#(tom voice) i am at tumblr and am very concerned

[fishexmachina]

EVERYONE AT TOMBLR DO YOU THINK THE GREAT TWITTER TO TUMBLR MIGRATION WILL INVOLVE TOM

DO YOU THINK WE WILL BE FOUND OUT FOR OUR CRIMES

[adultswim2021]

The Boondocks #25: “Home Alone” | December 17, 2007 - 11:30PM | S02E10

This is another fun, pretty typical sitcom style episode. In this one, Tom convinces Granddad to go on a sex-having vacation to escape the stress of having to rear his two awful boys.

This will require hiring a sitter. Huey and Riley have a storied past when it comes to being sat. They are on a “do not sit” list, just like Bart Simpson before them. Eventually Granddad settles on Uncle Ruckus for sitter, but even he can’t stand up to their terror. He eventually flees, leaving the kids to their own devices.

Riley takes the stash of money Granddad has tucked away and buys some fancy clothes. Huey, pragmatically concerned with their newfound inability to buy food for themselves, grounds Riley and eventually becomes a fascist, treating Huey like a literal prisoner. Meanwhile Tom feels ditched by Granddad who feigned interest in bringing Tom with him, and Granddad fails to come anywhere close to achieving his dreams of having women do kisses on him while smiling big. 

This one is all about character-driven gags. It’s also all about the boys calling each other a word that rhymes with gag. Well, it rhymes with gaggy, specifically. I am sorry, everyone, I enjoy hearing mean words on comedy programs. Even that one word that the characters on the show are allowed to say and I am not.

There’s a number of cultural references, such as the then-current discussion of Jay-Z calling for a boycott on Cristal. The guy under fire, managing director Frédéric Rouzaud, was asked if he felt that Cristal’s association with rap could hurt the brand. All he had to do was say “no, of course not” but instead he said this: “that’s a good question, but what can we do? We can’t forbid people from buying it. I’m sure Dom Pérignon or Krug would be delighted to have their business.” Not great, but it’s a far cry from what Uncle Ruckus claims he said. Uncle Ruckus’ false recollection of the quote is insanely funny and very rude. 

Other bits worth mentioning: Granddad’s frustration with post-9/11 airport security. This scene is very funny, and includes some great lines on the overhead address system. There’s also a moment during Riley’s grounding where they use the music from Platoon. I have only seen Platoon once and I didn’t really like it all that much, but I have heard this music in about a billion different comedies and always have to rack my brain to remember what it was from. I think they used it in Salute Your Shorts once. Okay, that’s how we’re ending this post, sorry.

MAIL BAG

Programming note: probably not gonna post on Tuesday for purely tactical reasons. Please update your expectations accordingly.

Do you make up these mailbags as little jokes to yourself or are people actually sending them in?

That’s an amazing question. The truth is I do all the voices of the people who call in. No, just kidding. I would say the make-up is this: 40% a guy I know. 30% another guy I know. 20% another guy I know. 7% a few guys I know. 3% actual people who happened to find this blog on tumblr and care enough about it to write in and ask stuff. 0% girls :(

My favorite shot in the Petite Feet sketch is the one of Tim leaning on the dartboard that someone is actively playing on. Very lame in a Huey Lewis - Sports kind of way. I love it.

The staging in this sketch is unreal. The boys look great. The song sounds great. What more could you ask for?

[itsallyscorner]

Play Me A Song

Paring: Tom Holland x fem!reader

Summary: This is based off the video of Tom playing guitar that he posted on Instagram:) Tom facetimes you to help brighten up your day.

Warnings: none

A/n: Not me using fan fiction as a coping mechanism for my stress, yet ONCE AGAIN.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

✧───── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *. ☽.* :★. ─────✧

“Hellooo, gorgeous girl!” Tom cooed as his face popped up onto your phone screen.

You let out a nasally giggle, the side of your face snuggling deeper into the pillow Tom would use when he was over at your house.

Tom tilts his head at the phone, a hint of a smile on his blush colored lips. The action caused his mop of chocolate brown curls to slightly bounce, catching your attention. You longed for the feeling of running your hands through his soft hair. You missed the way it felt between your fingers and how it would make Tom nuzzle closer to you.

“How was your day? You sounded a bit upset on the phone.” He checked in, voice soft and sweet, yet full of concern. His brows furrowed, causing a wrinkle to form between his brows.

You breath in, smelling the hints of him on your pillow. He was miles away, FaceTime allowed you to see and talk to him, though it wasn’t the same as him being beside you. If you were together right now, he would probably envelop you with his protective arms, pull you into his warm chest, and press kisses all over any bit of your exposed skin. His curls would tickle against your neck while he buried his head into the small space between your neck and shoulders—though you wouldn’t mind the tickle because it would remind you that he was there with you.

You sighed, “Today was a rough day. My professors have been piling work on us and I got called into work on my day off. I haven’t even gotten to start that research paper for class—I’m just so burnt out. I’m tired of trying, Tommy.”

Tom pouted, bringing the camera near his face to feel closer to you. He only felt the heat of his phone screen against his face, but he could still feel the light vibrations of your voice through the phone’s speakers. He placed the speaker of his phone slightly atop his chest, so he could feel the rhythm of your words against him. It reminded him of the days you two would cuddle after the both of you had long days at work. You would tell each other about your days and bask in the feeling of being in each other’s arms. He missed the feeling of being close to you.

“I know you have a lot of work to do, but you need to give yourself breaks, darling. And don’t tell me that you don’t need a break, you’re human (y/n), there’s only so much you can do in a day.” He began. Tom knew how you could get when college got overwhelming. Sometimes there were weeks where you would throw yourself into work, with no sleep, minimal food, and too many cups of coffee. He adored the diligence you had for your education, he wished he could’ve had that when he was still in school, but he wanted to make sure that you were taking care of yourself.

“Listen, you got this, I know you do. You’re the most intelligent and hard working woman I have ever met in my life. There’s nothing you can’t do, because I know, one way or another, you’re gonna find a way to do it. You always do. I just don’t want you to forget to take care of yourself. I know your education is important, but so are you.” He finished, a small smile forming on his lips. You hum in response, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of myself Tommy.”

What you say seems to reassure him, his shoulders visibly loosened up and the smile on his face grows a bit wider. Your own lips turn up on their own, reciprocating his smile.

“How about you, how was your day?” You ask him. Tom sits up and leans against his headboard.

“Well they’re still renovating the house, so Harry and I decided to rent out a place not too far from mum and dad’s. We actually had lunch with them, I got to see Tessa—gosh, I wish you were here right now. Tess was bouncing all over the place and giving everyone kisses, you would’ve loved it. And Paddy! He’s gotten so much taller since I’ve last seen him, and his voice keeps getting deeper, it’s actually embarrassing for me to be beside him because I’m older and I sound like I’m the one going through puberty.” He rambled, one of his hands making gestures and his face making expressions as he spoke. You loved the way he could just go on about a certain topic, especially when it came to his family. As sad as it was to see him leave for the UK, you were also happy because you knew he’d get to see his family.

He continued to talk about his day until his leg bumped into something, causing a hollow thump to emit from the object.

“What was that?” He leaned forward, the sound of his sheets rustling as he moved to grab the object filling your speakers.

“My guitar.” He grunted, holding the instrument up. “Remember, you got this for me for my birthday!” He proudly reminded you. You had gotten him the Ed Sheeran edition Martin Guitar after he had been going on and on about wanting to learn how to properly play the instrument. At the same time, he had a little obsession with Ed Sheeran and his music, so when you saw the guitar in the shop, you thought why not? You knew he would love it.

You fondly chuckled at him, “Yeah I do! You even promised to write me a song one day after you opened it.”

The last part of your sentence caught his attention, “I will write you a song one day, I’m very serious about that promise, love.” He pointed at you.

“Oh, are you?” You tease him.

“Yes, I am. In fact, ever since I’ve gotten back home, I’ve been practicing again and I’m doing much better.” He confidently told you.

“Can you play me a song?” You softly ask him.

“I can play you ‘Grow as we Go’ by Ben Platt. It’s the song I’ve been practicing.” He placed his phone against a pillow, using it as a stand. He placed the guitar in his lap, positioning his fingers on the frets and strings of the guitar.

“Yeah, play anything. I just wanna hear you play.” You mumble, your voice coming out in a muffle against Tom’s pillow.

“Just a warning, it’s probably not that good.” He mentions, shooting you a playful look.

“I don’t care.” You smile. He starts to softly strum the opening of the Ben Platt song and you couldn’t help but smile. He looked away from the camera, trying to focus on the notes and giving you a good look at the side of his face. The light shines part of his face, leaving the features you can see dark in the shadow, though it didn’t stop you from making out his gorgeous brown eyes. His long fingers move fluidly along the strings, creating a sweet melody on the guitar.

He stumbles a bit, making him whisper “Bollocks.” The little hiccup didn’t stop him from playing and so he continued to strum the guitar. You decided to stay quiet, letting him be in the zone. He messes up again, this time saying “bollocks” louder than the first time. You see him slightly shake his head as he regains his focus and places his fingers on the proper strings again.

You fondly watch him as he play, admiring the man you call your boyfriend. His fingers twitch on the string causing him to pause. He sucks his teeth, a bit of a frustrated grin on his face.

“Mmm.” He looks at you before turning away, “Okay.” He plays again, brows furrowed together in concentration as he tries to play the part of the song his keeps messing up on. You couldn’t contain the giggle that came out of you when he cringed at the sound the guitar made when he tried to play past the note. He pauses looking at the ceiling and tries to figure out the next notes.

“Alright, last time.”

“You’ve got it.” You encourage him. Your words give him some confidence and he shoots you a sweet smile. He readjusts the guitar in his lap, this time keeping his eyes on the strings as he plays. He strums the song again, starting off slow then slowly getting faster. Though his pacing was off by a bit, the song still sounded great nonetheless. You were thoroughly impressed.

He stops playing sitting back against the headboard, “I don’t know why I speed up though. I don’t know why I decide to do it so quickly.” He says into the camera.

You laugh, “It still sounds great though, I really enjoyed it.”

Tom tilts his head at you, teasingly squinting at the camera, “Even with the amount of times I kept stopping?”

“Yes, even with the amount of times you kept stopping.” You laugh, adjusting your phone. Tom puts the guitar aside and grabs his phone. He lays back on his bed, his head resting on his pillow and his curls sprawling out on the cushiony white surface. One of his hands rest behind his head as he stares at you.

“I’m gonna keep practicing. So the next time I see your beautiful face I can serenade you with a song and my guitar.” He muses, a lazy grin on his features.

“That sounds like something out of a chick flick.” You snort. He shoots you a playful glare, “Shut up, you love it.”

Tom knew you were a sucker for chick flick gestures. Kissing in the rain, watching the sunset, you name it.

You sigh, scrunching up your nose, “Yeah, I do.”

“But only from you.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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[tomhiddlestonfanfic]

When I Need You the Most

CHAPTER NUMBER/ONE SHOT: One shot WHICH TOM CHARACTER: Actor Tom PAIRING: Tom/Reader   GENRE: Hurt/Comfort, Angst WARNINGS: Depression, Suicide Attempt TAGLIST: @waddlenut​

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This story contains a depiction of a serious suicide attempt. If you think you in any way might be triggered by this kind of content I’m asking you, please, don’t read it. I have a lot of other stories that you can read instead. I write a lot about mental health problems and I care deeply about my readers. Please, if you’re struggling try to open up to someone about it. If you don’t have anyone, feel free to contact me here on my tumblr if you need someone to talk to. Take care. Love, F.

When I Need You the Most

You watched intently as the raindrops hit the window pane, the water distorting your view of the world outside. The cold, cruel world in which you never quite belonged to begin with. You felt numb by the time you swallowed down the last of the pills you had popped out of the pill charts. This was it. The time had finally come for you to leave this world behind.

Your phone rang and you instinctively thought of ignoring the call when you saw his name on the caller ID. Tom. Sweet, caring Tom who always managed to put you in a better mood whenever you felt down. As you picked up the phone, you thought briefly that if you were going to leave this world behind, you may as well do it in a better mood than you had been in up until that moment.

“He-hello?” You produced a hiccup as you tentatively answered the phone. You felt yourself blush and proceeded to fill the glass in front of you with some more whiskey. “Damn it,” you cursed yourself as you managed to get most of the alcoholic beverage outside the glass and onto the table. You got up on unsteady legs and went to the kitchen sink to get a rag. 

“Hi, [your name]. It’s Tom.” You smiled at his habit of introducing himself as though you would not remember who he was otherwise. As if you could ever forget. You had been seeing each other on and off for a few months now. It could pass a week or so where you would not hear from each other. That was the nature of your relationship - casual. Though lately Tom had been contacting you more frequently, asking you about things going on in your life.

“Yeah, I know. Hi Tom,” you said and smiled as you realised that you didn’t have to worry about cleaning up after yourself seeing as you were going to die soon anyway. Your life was messy, so why not let it show for once? You were so tired of keeping up the act of pretending to be alright when you were in fact in agony. Life just hurt so badly that you could not stand it any longer.

“Are you alright? I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Tom asked and you laughed. His sense of timing was perfect. You had just finished your very last task and all you had to do now was waiting for death to arrive. Sweet eternal sleep.

“No, you’re not interrupting me at all,” you assured him as you sat down on the kitchen floor to avoid falling as a result of your poor balance. You felt dizzy and your sight began to blur. This was it, you thought and decided to ramble on. “Actually, I was thinking of something. About a quote! I think you’re the perfect person to ask about this. How was the quote now again? To die, to sleep…”

“To die, to sleep - to sleep, perchance to dream,” Tom said and made a brief pause before continuing. “Ay, there’s the rub, for in this sleep of death what dreams may come. When we have shuffled off this mortal coil. Must give us pause; there’s the respect that...” You cried heedlessly as you listened to Tom’s wonderful voice. He stopped talking for a brief moment. “[Your name], are you alright?” he asked with concern in his voice. 

“No,” you answered truthfully. "I'm not alright. I feel so lost, Tom. And I'm scared. I don't think I want to die, but I think I might because I took all of my meds with alcohol."

"You did what?!" Tom sounded alarmed. You didn't answer. You could hear Tom talking to someone else, asking them to call an ambulance. “[Your name], darling. Where are you? Are you at home?”

“Ye-yes, I’m home,” you replied and did your best to remain calm instead of panicking. What the hell had you just done? You didn’t want to die. Not really. You just needed things in your life to change in some ways. You struggled to fight back the growing fear.

“Good. It’s good that you’re home, sweetheart,” Tom told you, before he said your address to someone in the background. “What kinds of pills did you take and when did you take them?”

“I’ll check,” you replied, suddenly unable to remember the names of the medications you had just swallowed down with whiskey. You crawled up to the kitchen table where you had spilled some whiskey and tried to stand up, but you got too dizzy. So you settled with sitting on the floor beneath the table and pulled down the empty medicine boxes and pill charts on the floor. You read the names of the medications and estimated how many pills you had taken of each of them. You listened as Tom forwarded the information to the person from the emergency service. You began to feel really tired and drowsy as you sat there on the floor.

“The ambulance is on the way,” Tom said in a calm voice.”How are you feeling?”

“I’m tired, Tom,” you said truthfully. “I’m really, really tired.”

“Okay. You’re tired and probably want to sleep, but whatever you do, don’t fall asleep. Try staying awake until the ambulance gets there. Can you do that for me, love?” Tom asked and you began to cry.

“I’m scared, Tom,” you said sadly as you realised that this might be the very last conversation you had. “And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Tom. Please tell my parents I’m sorry. If I don’t make it, let them know that it was not their fault. I didn’t mean to hurt them like this.”

“Sweetheart, listen to me. You’re not going to die. You can’t. I can’t accept that. I need you to stay alive, because I love you so much and I don’t want to live my life without you,” Tom told you seriously.

“I love you too, Tom,” you sobbed into the receiver and realised that it was true. You did love him.

“I’m so glad to hear that, darling. I need you to stay awake for me. Can you do that? Could you drink some coffee?” Tom asked you.

You couldn’t walk, much less prepare a coffee for yourself.

“I can’t stand up,” you told him.

“Okay. That’s okay, darling. Can you crawl?” Tom asked and kept his voice calm.

“Yes,” you replied.

“Can you crawl to your door and unlock it so they don’t have to break it down when they get there?” Tom asked you.

“I can try,” you replied and began to crawl from the kitchen to the entrance hall with your phone on speaker in your hand.

“How are you doing?” Tom asked.

“Almost there,” you replied and made an effort to reach for the lock. You managed to twist it until the door was successfully unlocked. “I did it,” you said as you sat back down on the floor with your back against the door.

“Darling, that’s great,” Tom told you. “Well done. Now you sit there and wait for the ambulance to arrive. Don’t fall asleep. I’m right here with you. Keep talking to me so I know you’re awake.”

“What should I talk about?” you asked and stifled a big yawn.

“Anything. It doesn’t matter what. Just keep talking,” Tom told you. You sighed heavily.

“I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry for putting you through this,” you told him regretfully. “I don’t know what I was thinking when I took all those pills.”

“I’m proud of you for picking up the phone when I called and for telling me what happened. Let’s focus on that right now,” Tom suggested.

“Okay,” you replied.

“I’m right here with you, darling,” Tom said in a soothing voice. You frowned slightly. Why wasn’t he upset with you? He had every right to be. “I know you’re probably scared right now. I would be too if I was in your situation. But help is on the way. They’re headed there right now.”

"Thank you," you said sadly.

"For what?" Tom wondered.

"For not being upset with me," you told him. "You have every right to be."

"I am upset, darling. But me getting angry with you right now is the last thing you need," he told you. 

"You're right," you agreed. "I'm sorry for upsetting you."

"It's okay, darling. I'm really glad you were honest with me. It means a lot to me," Tom replied. "I love you so much and I can't stand the thought of losing you."

"I love you too," you said with tears in your eyes. You could hear rushed footsteps outside your door followed by the sound of your doorbell ringing. “They’re here now,” you told him as you reached up to open the door. You moved to the side to let the ambulance workers in.

“Good,” Tom said. “I’ll call you later then.”

“Okay,” you replied and hung up the phone before looking up at the people sent there to help you.

“Hey, are you [your name and last name]?” the female ambulance worker asked and you nodded. “Is there somewhere we can sit down to talk?” she asked and you nodded.

“The living room is right there,” you said, nodding your head in the right direction.

“Okay, can you stand up?” she asked and you attempted to get back up on your feet, but your head was spinning too much and you felt a wave of nausea wash over you. You stood on all fours and threw up on the floor, not once but three times before you could speak again. Your hands were trembling as you sat back up in a kneeling position.

“I’m sorry,” you uttered and this time your head wouldn’t stop spinning. “Help me,” you pleaded as you shut your eyes tightly and fell back against the wall.

“[Your name], we’re here to help you. But I need you to stay awake,” was the last thing you heard before you went unconscious.

You woke up in a hospital bed with an oxygen tube in your nose, an IV in your arm and an oximeter on your index finger. You felt drowsy as you looked around you in the hospital room you were sharing with three elderly men.

“She’s awake,” one of the men exclaimed. A nurse went up to you and looked at you with sympathetic brown eyes.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, placing a hand on your shoulder to support you as you tried to sit up in the bed. She reached out and pulled a handle on the bed to adjust it so you could sit up more comfortably.

“I’m okay,” you said and bowed your head in shame as you thought about what you had done in order to get there.

“Good. Your vital values look good,” she informed you and you nodded.

“Good,” you replied.

“Your boyfriend Tom called and told me to ask you to call him back when you were awake,” she said and handed you your phone.

“Thank you,” you said and bit your lip to suppress a smile at the fact that she had just referred to Tom as your boyfriend. You pushed the call button and he answered right away, almost as if he had held the phone in his hand waiting for you to call.

“[Your name]. I’m so glad to hear your voice. How are you?” Tom asked.

“I’m a bit tired, but other than that I’m fine,” you replied.

“I see. They said you would need a lot of rest, but also that you’ll make a full recovery from your intoxication,” Tom informed you.

“That’s good,” you said.

“Is it alright if I come visit tomorrow?” Tom asked.

“Of course you can,” you replied with a smile.

You ended the call when a doctor came in to talk to you about what happened. He decided that you would be transferred to the psychiatric ward. Even though you were cooperative he decided to put you there on psychiatric hold due to your serious suicide attempt.

“You could have died,” the doctor told you seriously. “The psychiatric hold will prevent you from going back home before a psychiatrist decides that you’re ready. It’s for your own good.”

You got transferred to the psychiatric ward in the evening and immediately went to bed. You were exhausted. Then the following day, Tom made you a visit. Since you were sharing a room with three other patients, you and Tom sat down in one of the meeting rooms to talk in private. Tom smiled at you as he handed you a box of chocolate and a small teddy bear.

“They said I couldn’t bring any flowers in case someone would be allergic,” he explained as you looked at your gifts.

“Thank you,” you told him and felt your eyes fill up with tears. You hugged him and cried into his chest. You felt so guilty for having tried to end your life. The fact that he was so compassionate and understanding towards you really meant a lot to you. You had expected everyone to be angry with you, so when you were met by compassion instead you felt as though you hadn’t earned it. “I feel so guilty and ashamed,” you admitted as you looked up at him. “I feel like I haven’t earned this. Why aren’t you angry with me?”

“What you did really upset me, but I think the last thing you need right now is for me to lecture you about what you did to yourself,” Tom told you and looked at you thoughtfully. “I think you’re already beating yourself up over what happened. I don’t see any reason why I would try to make you feel even more guilty. What I want for you is to feel happy again. I want to remind you of how wonderful life can be so you won’t feel like ending it anymore.”

“Thank you,” you said and smiled with eyes full of tears. Tom mirrored your smile and you saw a single tear run down his face as he looked at you.

“I love you,” he told you in a soft whisper.

“I love you too,” you replied and hugged him hard. “Please, don’t leave me.”

“I won’t leave you,” he promised. “I’m here for you. You just have to let me in so I can help you.”

“Okay,” you said and smiled weakly as you found the courage to open up your heart to him. You told him about the sadness and fatigue, your insecurities and loneliness, and the darkness that seemed to swallow you whole. You told him about everything that had been bothering you so much for the last couple of months and you felt so relieved when he listened attentively to what you had to say. He made you feel less alone when he opened up about his own experiences of being depressed. You hadn’t expected that of him since he seemed so well-aware of how to stay healthy. He seemed so flawless and perfect, so it surprised you to learn about his insecurities. After your long talk, you felt closer to Tom than you ever had before. He was right there by your side and you didn’t doubt for a second that he would help you get through this. He was there when you needed him the most and you loved him for it.

[thenightling]

My opinion on some of the Netflix Sandman rumors

We fans don’t have much in the way of substantial news about The Sandman Netflix series.  All we have are rumors and gossip.   I have compiled some of the rumors here along with my opinions on those rumors.  Consider this a disclaimer.  I am only a fan.  I do not have any inside info.   All the rumors here are ones that can easily be found on various sites online.   Now to begin...

Rumor: Morpheus will be captured in 1916 but will not escape until present day.  

This rumor has been confirmed true by Neil Gaiman on his Tumblr account and other Social media websites.  In my opinion this was wise because it enables Morpheus’ capture to continue to overlap with the real-world sleeping sickness outbreak of Encephalitis Lethargica.  

Rumor:  Michael Sheen is playing Lucifer.

This rumor was debunked months ago by Neil Gaiman but I surmised that the one who started the rumor had found out he was playing Lucifer for The Sandman audio drama and had gotten confused.  I was right.   I DO however suspect Michael Sheen and possibly David Tennant will have roles in The Sandman Netflix series, just not the same role Michael Sheen had in the audio drama.

My Opinion: I’m all for Michael Sheen having a role in The Sandman Netflix series.  Him and David Tennant.  

Rumor: Doug Jones is going to be in The Sandman as a supporting character.

This rumor comes from two clues.  The first being that Neil Gaiman has spoken about his like of Doug Jones and Guillermo Del Toro almost did a Sandman adaptation with Doug as Morpheus.  Doug Jones even brought this up recently, which suggests that the subject might be on mind.   

My opinion:  Doug is an excellent character actor and I want this to be true.  He should be in Sandman.  I love Doug. And there are plenty of characters he could play.  Lucien, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Doctor Destiny, various nightmares.   

Rumor:  Liam Hemsworth or Dacre Montgomery will play The Corinthian.

Opinion: I like Liam Hemsworth.  He deserves a shot but Dacre is also good.

Rumor:  Tom Sturridge is playing Morpheus.

Opinion:  I am 90% sure this rumor is true. There are a number of sources claiming the same thing.  Also just google how the man looks.  I think he’ll do a fine job.  I thought Oliver Farnworth would have been excellent too but I’m sure Tom Sturridge would be fine. 

Rumor:  The Netflix Sandman series will see Dream take many forms including a female form.

Opinion:  This isn’t really new.  We saw Dream’s feminine side in Overture.  If it bothers you to see Morpheus might have a feminine side, you probably shouldn’t be watching something like Sandman anyway.

Rumor:  Death will be played by a black woman.

The source of this rumor comes from Neil Gaiman saying something about loving the actress chosen for Death but feeling some people will complain.

Opinion:   ...So?   She’s an Endless.  She can look any way she wants.  I would have liked to have seen Jamie Chung in the role though.  She voiced her for the Death short that accompanied the Wonder Woman: Bloodlines Blu Ray.

Rumor:  Morpheus’ extended capture will effect his reunion with Hob.

My opinion:  Uhhhh Duh.

Honestly though this makes me VERY curious as to how their reunion will play out. I hope it is just as sweet as the comic. 

Rumor:  The Corinthian will appear fairly early in the series and even advise Roderick Burgess how best to contain Morpheus.

Opinion: Well, according to the leaked Corinthian audition this is true.  I don’t mind it at all.  It makes sense. It fits.

Rumor:  Alexander Burgess’ story is now more sympathetic and he as well as his father will age slower because of Morpheus’ capture.

Opinion:  This seems likely based on certain leaks.  And I kind of hope this means Morpheus will be able to punish Roderick and not Alex.

Rumor:  Alex will now have an older brother who died during World War 1, a brother that Roderick preferred, and he takes out his grief on Alex in abusive ways. it also gives Roderick a new motivation for wanting to capture Death.

Opinion: This is likely true based on certain leaks from last February.  I have mixed feelings about this because sometimes parents are just assholes.  They don’t need a tragic loss to set off their abusive behavior.  It also made Roderick worse (in the comics) that he treated his only (known) son the way he did. It’s been recently established in the comics that John Dee was actually Alex’s half-brother.  I guess it all depends on how this is done. 

I also don’t think Roderick needs to be grief stricken in order to want to control Death.   This is a cliché, a cliché we saw in Disney’s Gargoyles and even in Hercules and Xena.  Someone loses someone they love and tries to capture Death in order to bring them back.  Roderick doesn’t need this trope.  He was an occultist who wanted to be a big shot in the world of early twentieth century magick users. In my opinion that should be enough but I’ll keep an open mind. 

Rumor:   They were supposed to start filming in May but it was delayed to late October because of Covid.  

This one is true.

Opinion:  Hurry up!

Rumor:   Roderick Burgess has no real magick in the show.

Opinion: Sadly this is likely true based on a character description leak from the casting call.  I shall miss seeing Sykes’ head explode...  Honestly I kind of hope this is wrong.  I’m tired of magick being diminished in comic book TV and film.   

Rumor:  The first season of Sandman will combine Preludes and Nocturnes with The Doll’s House.

Opinion:  This is likely true.  I’m fine with it.  It might flow better for TV this way.

Rumor:   The “A game of you” storyline will have trans people writing.

Opinion:  This makes sense  And this is pretty much already confirmed true.

Rumor:  The Netflix show will have the same cast as the audio drama.

Opinion: Though I would not mind this, I know it is not true. This is likely the result of an IMDB listing for the audio drama mistakenly calling it a show and some fans mistaking that IMDB page as being the one for the Netflix series.

Rumor: The Netflix Sandman series is canceled and the audio drama is all we’re getting.

This rumor is absolutely false!    It’s a stupid rumor made by those who had no idea the audio drama was happening before the pandemic even hit.   The audio drama is not compensation because there will not be a Netflix show.  Both will exist.

Opinion:  Shame on those leaping to this conclusion and spreading it as fact. 

Rumor: A character named “Ann” is being cast and she’ll be a major recurring character. 

Opinion:  I’ve seen this sort of thing before.  It’s how you hide what character they are trying to cast.  Clearly this is a major female character for the show and probably was a name used as a place holder for Death of The Endless or even Rose Walker.  I’m not too concerned about this.  Some fans are upset and already raging that they’re making up a new character just for the show, ala Chloe Decker in Lucifer.  I don’t think there’s anything to worry about here.

Rumor:   Tom Ellis will not be playing Lucifer.

Opinion:  Tom Ellis has wanted to move on from Lucifer for a while.  He wants season six of Lucifer to be its last.   Let him move on. Neil Gaiman also wants his Lucifer to be different from the Lucifer TV show version.  The Lucifer TV series deviated heavily from the comics and it might confuse people with the big differences in lore.  It is probably for the best that Tom Ellis not play Lucifer.

Rumor:  The Sandman is why Lucifer is being canceled.

Opinion: No.  Lucifer has been canceled three times now. In fact the first time it was canceled The Sandman TV series had not been picked up by Netflix yet.  Lucifer has had six seasons.  For a paranormal police procedural that’s a good, long, run.  Not everything can be Supernatural.   Forever Knight (and most shows of that type) only had three seasons.  Lucifer out lived the norm for its type of show and survived two cancelations.   Let it go.   Do not blame Sandman.  The Sandman is what gave us Lucifer, not took it away.  The Sandman is where the story of Lucifer quitting, opening Lux, and taking up piano came from. 

Rumor:  The Sandman is the most expensive show DC has ever made.

According to Variety this is true.

Opinion:  It probably has to be expensive.  Look at all the stuff they need to show us, the sets and special effects needed.

Rumor:  Lucien might be played by a woman.

Apparently this rumor started because some of the Morpheus auditioners let slip that they auditioned with a woman as Lucien.   

Opinion: I’m not sure how I feel about this.  I love the character of Lucien.  A a woman version might take a little getting used to. I don’t hate the idea, I just prefer how he appears in canon.   Further note, I kind of hope he has a full head of hair like he does in the recent comics.  There is a very high chance she was just reading his lines since at the time the role being cast was Morpheus, not Lucien.

Rumor:  The Sandman could air as early as Summer of 2021.

Opinion:  *Insert bitter laugh here.* I wish...

Rumor:   Alexander Burgess is gay.

Opinion: And in other news water is wet!

Rumor: Desire will be played by someone who identifies as Genderfluid or nonbinary.

Opinion: This is very likely true.

[corolune]

Breathing Underwater / Chapter One — Zephyr

AO3 / Tumblr Alex had always known he wasn’t like other children. They didn't hear the song of the ocean in their ears, or feel the thrumming rhythm of the waves in their hearts like he did. Then he finds a silvery coat made of seal fur, glistening and calling him to slip it on — and everything he thought he knew about himself washes away like foam on the sea. Alex Rider is a selkie, and this is the story of how a seal becomes a spy. Prologue 〰 Chapter 1: Zephyr 〰 Chapter 2: Nimbus

zeph·yr — a light wind from the west.

Alex Rider was seven years old when he learned that none of the other children heard the ocean’s song in their ears. A half-formed rhythm that beat in time with his breath, the way the Thames rushed in tune with the hustle and bustle of London.

Mrs. Smith held her finger to her lips, quieting the loud chatter of the class, and beckoned Katie to continue her show and tell.

“And this one,” Katie held up a large, spiralling shell in her hands, “is called a conch shell. When you hold it up to your ear, it sounds like you’re at the beach! It has ocean sounds in it and it’s really really cool. Miss, can I pass it around, for everyone to hear?”

“Yes, you may, but we’ll have to be quiet so we can hear the ocean waves, right class?”

As the shell made its way around the circle of children, Alex leaned into Tom and whispered, “Why would you need a shell to hear the ocean? I can hear it just fine wherever I am!”

Tom shot him a curious look from under his curly, dark fringe. “Yeah, you can imagine how it sounds, but with the shell you can really hear it!”

Alex furrowed his brow, shaking his head, but decided to wait and see what exactly this ocean sound was. The others oohed and ahhed excitedly, holding the conch up to their ears, and soon enough it was his turn.

Tom bounced in place, eyes going wide as he handed the shell over to him with a grin. Cupping it gently to his ear, he listened and waited, but there was nothing other than the sound of air rushing through the twists and turns in the spirally shell. Squeezing his eyes shut and clapping his hand over his other ear, he strained his hearing, but it still sounded nothing like the ocean.

When he blinked his eyes open, it was to Tom’s concerned look, and his neighbour poking his arm.

“Come on Alex, it’s my turn!” James whined, as Alex continued to stare at the shell in his hands. He passed it over to him, leaning over to Tom.

“That didn’t sound anything like the ocean.”

“What are you talking about, mate? That totally sounded like waves on a beach!”

“Waves? But the ocean sounds like a song Tom, and there’s just air in that shell!”

Mrs. Smith cleared her throat, and Alex realized that his whisper was perhaps not much of a whisper after all. “Would you boys like to share what’s going on?”

“Sorry Miss,” Alex mumbled, as Tom continued to glare righteously at him.

“Tom? Is something the matter?” Mrs. Smith raised her eyebrow pointedly.

“Sorry Miss, it’s just that Alex said the shell doesn’t sound like the ocean at all!” At this, the rest of his classmates' voices rose into a rumble and Alex’s cheeks grew pinker by the second.

“It sounds like waves, I suppose, but not like the ocean,” he tried to explain.

“But waves are the ocean!” James exclaimed, while Crystal gasped at him. “If it sounds like waves, it sounds like the ocean,” she said.

Alex sunk deeper into his seat and vowed to never bring up this topic again. Never ever. Especially the bit about the ocean song, which Tom teased him about for weeks afterward.

〰〰

Alex spent his days doing schoolwork, playing football, and sneaking onto the tube with Tom to go to the shops downtown. He learned to avoid other topics, too, like how Ian left him alone at home, or in a hotel when they were on holiday. Or how sometimes, Ian would come home from work trips covered in bruises and scrapes. He made friends easily enough, and then Ian hired Jack to keep him company. It helped him forget that feeling of loneliness that hovered over him like a rain cloud, as if there was something he was missing, like the melody of a song he couldn’t quite remember.

Sometimes, when he was alone at night, he stared up at the stars from his little window and wondered what his parents were like. He barely remembered much of when he was little. Sometimes he thought of the light on the surface of the sea, reflecting into the water below where kelp waved in giant fronds. He remembered cold air on his face and the smell of salt. His parents must have loved the sea, to have taken him to the beach as a baby.

The months passed by, and he got a new bicycle, learned Jack was terrible at cooking, and finally watched the X-Men films Tom had been gushing about. Soon enough, his tenth birthday had come and gone, and summer was upon them.

When the high tides came, at his uncle’s lake cottage in the country, Alex’s blood thrummed hard in his ears. The dark night blanketed the small hamlet, an inky sky bleeding into the city lights that he could see far into the distance. A little lake, too big to be a pond, rippled in the balmy breeze as he lay propped up on his elbows in the grass nearby. If he closed his eyes he could hear the water’s shush-shush-shush in time with his heartbeat.

He was a city boy, but something about the vast, empty lake called to him. He supposed other ten year olds would feel a bit frightened, left alone in the wilderness for hours, where the nearest city was a half hour’s drive away. He never liked the country very much, not when he and Ian went into the woods or hiked up a mountain. But here, there was something that quelled the itchy feeling that had him feeling lost, like he was holding a puzzle piece that wouldn’t fit.

When he heard the car rumbling on the dusty path, he rolled onto his knees and peered over the cattails in the moor. Ian was back from his trip into the little town, and maybe now he would finally stop being so mysterious and tell him the real reason they were here.

“Alex! Come and help me with these,” Ian called, opening up the boot of the car.

Scrambling down the grassy knoll, Alex reached him to see old crates and crumbling piles of paper amongst the grocery bags.

“What’s all this? Where’d you get all this old stuff?”

Ian smiled crookedly. “Help me haul it inside and I’ll tell you!”

The crates were splintered and creaky, rocking with every step on the uneven cobblestone of the driveway. The papers were bundled into musty files, but between the two of them it was short work to gather everything into the foyer of the little cottage.

“So did you drive us up here to go to an estate sale or something without me? Bet I could have found something a lot cooler than some old paperwork.” Alex grinned as he put down the last box.

Ian chuckled, shaking his head. “I didn’t buy any of this. Lucky for me no one had come across it yet.”

He pried one of the crates open. Inside, there were soft cotton dresses, yellowed with age, in floral prints and geometric lines in vibrant colours.

“These things, they’re your mother’s.”

He blinked, looking up sharply.

“My mum’s? But...I thought there wasn’t...” Alex stumbled over his words, confused and hopeful all at once. “I thought there wasn’t anything left of hers,” he finished in a soft, timid voice, feeling something pull at his chest. He ran his fingers over the soft fabric, trying to remember his mum’s face. The smell of sea salt wafted up from where he shook out the folds. A large seashell, curved into a spiral, fell out as he lifted it away, clattering onto the wooden floor, and he reached after it. In his hands, the shell was smooth.

“I didn’t think so either,” Ian said. “But last time I came up here, remember I had to check on some things for our holiday?”

Alex nodded, the sound of his blood rushing in his ears like the thrum of the ocean.

“Helen—your mum—she had a safe in the little bank in town. Just by chance that the man there recognized the name Rider, good thing we weren’t playing disguises, eh?”

Alex had moved onto untying the twine from the bundles of files. The folders were dry, caked with dust, and brittle. The papers inside were less dusty but equally crisp with age. Inside they held an eclectic mix of newspaper clippings and postcards, photographs of people he didn’t recognize, and pressed flowers. Little mementos of a life lived, a life that Alex had had little chance to wonder about.

His parents had died in an accident. But in him now, seeing these objects that his—mum—had once lovingly saved, a spark flared into a hopeful warmth. He read and read his mother’s journal until his eyes slid shut, and he felt Ian lift him up and tuck him into bed. He dreamt of Venice and Prague, of coffee shops and delicate flowers blooming under gentle care. His dreams were full of strange people and stranger plots surrounding both his mum and his dad.

〰〰

The next morning when he woke, he could feel the ocean’s rhythm in his ears, louder than it had ever been before. He stumbled out of bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, to see Ian already awake and halfway through his toast.

“Morning sleepyhead,” Ian said around a mouthful of crunchy bread.

Plopping into a chair, Alex stole some from the pile for himself, spreading a very generous amount of jam onto his piece.

“Hmmm,” he hummed. The jam was really very good. Actually, now that he thought about it, he felt very good too, light and happy for the first time in, well, a long time. If he concentrated hard enough, he could even make out words in the usually jumbled melody in his ears.

Come...sea...little...

He chewed over this development as he finished breakfast, glancing at the crates and papers still piled up in the foyer from the night before. There was just one box he hadn’t gotten to before falling asleep — it was sealed shut so tightly that he hadn’t been able to pry it open by himself.

Ian noticed his gaze. “We can bring those with us for you to keep, when we drive back home.”

“Yes, I’d like that,” Alex nodded. “But I didn’t get a chance to look inside that one, can you help me get it open?”

Without noticing it, he found himself in front of the small box and running his fingers over the little notches in the wood, as if he’d been pulled towards it. A dull rhythm echoed in his ears like a siren song.

Armed with a sharp knife, his uncle pried open the lid. Whatever was inside was wrapped in packing paper and plastic, and an unassuming beige envelope rested on top. “For Alex R.,” it read in curly script, and the back of it was sealed shut with a sticker in the shape of a round, pink heart.

Ian leaned over his shoulder, humming with interest at this new mystery. “I’d reckon your mum left you this, Alex. Strange that I never came across any of this when you were younger.”

“You mean this is all a lucky accident? If we hadn’t come here...if you hadn’t gone to that bank, I wouldn’t have ever gotten any of this?” It wasn’t the first time Alex had had this thought since Ian first told him what he’d brought, and it seemed a little too much like coincidence.

“Perhaps, but then again, maybe she’d assumed you’d go looking for her things one day or another. Either way, it doesn’t matter — go on, open that envelope, I’m dying to see what’s inside just as much as you are!” Ian grinned, and Alex could feel the excitement rolling off of his uncle, who was always thrilled to play detective. Truth be told, he was excited too — it wasn’t everyday that he discovered an old family treasure.

The sticker peeled open easily, its stickiness long since disappeared. Inside, there was thick, creamy stationery paper, folded into thirds, and something shifted inside with a dull clinking sound. A golden chain slid out, flowing into his palm like liquid metal. Tiny shells dotted the chain and a small seashell hung from the middle.

“I remember that necklace,” Ian said thoughtfully. “I only met your mother a few times, but I can remember her wearing it — the seashell opens like a locket, I think, though I can’t recall what was inside it.”

Alex was more interested in the letter than a piece of glittering, girly jewelry, and he was happy to hand it off to Ian to inspect. Unfolding the elegant paper, he shouldn’t have been surprised to see his name on it, but he still couldn’t hold back a small gasp. The curly letters were undoubtedly his mother’s.

Dearest Alex,

In this box is something that has been yours since the day you were born. I’ve kept it safe and hidden, and hopefully you will find it one day when you need it. I wish that I was able to share this with you, face to face.

You must know by now, that you are different from other children; I am sure you never had to be taught to swim, and that the waves call to you in a way unlike anything else. You make friends easily, and others are charmed by you when you smile. You get those traits from me.

There is something else you get from me, too. Like me, you are a selkie, and your life is equally in the sea as it is on land. The sealskin in this box — this is yours. Wear the coat and you will swim as a seal, slip it off and you will walk once more.

Make sure to never lose your skin, always keep it safe and hidden, always keep it a secret. If you lose your skin, you must find it before someone else takes it and holds power over you.

My mother gave me this necklace, and now I’m giving it to you—a rare shell that will be a compass to your coat should you ever lose it. I hope that one day, you will find someone you trust with your life, someone you can share your secret with.

I love you with all my heart, my darling son.

Your Mum,

Helen R.

With slightly watery eyes, he looked up to see Ian nonchalantly trying to read the letter from where he sat next to him. Nothing in the letter made any sense to him—he’d heard of selkies of course, but the idea that his long lost mother was a seal was so weird that it passed right over his head. Distantly he noticed Ian taking the letter from him to read properly, but Alex was too much in the midst of an identity crisis to notice.

The soft, crinkling sounds of paper roused him from his circling thoughts. He turned to see Ian crumpling up the packing paper and tearing open the thin plastic that covered the contents of the box, tipping it over.

Soft, white fur with patches of grey unfurled onto the floor, somehow familiar, beckoning Alex. Something in his chest unfurled along with it, and for the first time that feeling of something missing, that yearning for something more, dissolved like foam on the sea. He ran his hands through the short, white fur, and knew that this was what he’d lost, and now found.

“This is yours,” Ian said.

That night, as Ian sat at the dock and Alex, clad in the silvery fur, dove into the cold lake water shimmering with moonlight, everything he thought he knew about himself washed away.

← Previous Chapter | Next Chapter →

[nonsensicalobsessions]

A Ruff Day

Author’s Note:

@catsladen wrote: Congrats my dear on your followers! That is amazing and so well deserved! Here’s a conversation prompt I found that I think you can do magic with: Person A: Why are you doing that? Person B: Doing what? Person A:Treating me like a person I picture either Tom or Loki, but I leave that up to you 😊 No smut necessary. Some fluff/angst mixture would be nice (Fangst? Anuff?) Thank you lovely!

After I wrote about having my lovely followers, Life came around and bit me, in the ass, hard. I was left with a large set of dentition marks and a massive infection known as “depression” in its wake. I say this because I know I’ve pretty much fallen off the face of Tumblr, and I am still clawing my way back. I do not have it nearly as bad as some, but I have it bad enough, and I will leave it at that.

When the events that I write about next happened in real life, I could not stop thinking about them, having worked in a veterinary hospital for three memorable years, and I ran the events through my head, over and over. I could see the events as they could have played out...might have played out...most probably played out in some aspects...and then this plot took root, and would not let go.

So, I apologize, @catsladen, for this is not the most original piece that I have ever come up with...in fact, it is derivative, and some may see it as a cheap rip off on a very real event. Still, it will not let me go, and as such, here it is. I present to you, A Ruff Day.

Working on federal holiday weekends in an emergency vet hospital always either dragged, or were so busy I could neither eat nor pee. Today seemed to be the former, and I was grateful for it. The techs were scattered around doing their busy work, while I closed myself in my office, tossing an oversized tennis ball in the air and catching it as I balanced on the back legs of a chair. I’ve done all my charting, there are no patients for me to check on. The last one through the door was a bulldog that came too close to a honeybee, and his already bulbous face swelled grotesquely. A shot of antihistamine, a script of Benadryl, then he and owner went off, right as rain. The airway was never compromised, all’s well that ends well...except for the bee, of course.

Kellie Ashe, one of the techs, came racing into the office without knocking, breathless. “You will no ever guess what is going on at intake!”

I jumped up, grabbing my stethoscope and mask (Thank you COVID) as I glared at her, “What is it and where is your mask?” The laws were quite clear, and stringent on this, and she had no mask on...and what was that twit doing? Brushing her hair and putting on eye makeup, what...? “Kellie! Focus! What is happening? Is it a hit and run, a delivery presenting badly...dog or cat...” I swear this girl has the brain of a flea...

“Tom Hiddleston is here with his dog!”

I look at her blankly. Nothing registered with me except one word—dog. “Kellie, what is wrong with the animal?” I asked, rushing to turn on the lights in the OR, making sure the X-ray machines were on and warmed up, the ultrasound is also on, and proceeding to the exam rooms, turning the lights on in one.

“It’s my turn to be the assisting tech so I ran back here to make sure you knew, it’s my turn not Claire’s, so I get to be the one in the room with you and Tom...”

I stop and freeze her with a glare. “Kellie, I don’t know what in the hell you’re blabbering about, but so far you have given me no information that has been useful to me. Therefore, there is no reason for you to be anywhere around me, the patient, or the owner. You can wait in the back.”

“What? But no...! I’m the one that ran back to tell you, I’m the one that should get to be in the....”

“If you were concerned with the animal you’d be there right now, but no, you were more interested in putting on mascara for chrissakes...get in the treatment room, I don’t even want to see you right now!”

I came to the front area to see a tall man, obviously the owner, who was obviously in a great deal of distress. “I don’t know how many he had..maybe one? It could have been two? And I don’t know if he chewed them, or swallowed them whole...” His voice was muffled by the mask we kept on hand to give to owners as they came in without masks, as they usually did, upset and stressed. Bright flowers covered the lower half of his face, but as I looked at his bright blue eyes, I finally understood what got Kellie in such a tizzy, and why there was an element of suppressed excitement that our usual emergency walk ins did not produce.

Next to him was a calmer woman, who was filling out some of the paperwork, and occasionally passing it to him to sign or for more information. “Tom, I really think it was only the one, and this is a bit over the top. One raisin isn’t worth all this...”

“A raisin, did you say?” My attention was now completely trained on the sad eyed chocolate spaniel at the feet of Claire Peyton, one of the calmest and best techs we had. She had already gotten a temperature and a weight from the little fellow, and was gently guiding the dog and owner into an exam room, while Liz, the receptionist, was explaining to the woman with the clipboard she could not follow us in because of the current COVID restrictions we were under. Only the owner was allowed in the exam room, because of the laws about remaining so many feet apart...and the worst part was, we couldn’t even allow her to wait in the interior waiting room, but she was welcome to stay on the screened porch we were using at the moment. She wasn’t thrilled, but she was accepting.

I quietly introduced myself. “Hi, I’m Dr. Diana Harris, and I’ll be helping...” “Bobby,” the man said quietly. “This is my...Bobby.”

“Okay Bobby, come here and let me look at you, you scoundrel...stealing raisins, are we? When did this happen, Dad?”

“Tom,” he said, distracted. “About ten minutes ago...maybe twenty. I saw that he was snuffling around the plate, and all the biscuits were gone...so were the little cheese squares...and there had been five raisins before, I am sure of it, and when I picked everything up, I only saw four...”

“Very precise,” I noted mildly as I listened to Bobby’s heart and lungs, which were both within normal limits, and made a hand motion for Claire to make a note of it.

“What’s that, that hand signal, what did that mean?” Oh, wow. Tom is very, very upset.

“It’s a signal I’ve developed with my techs to let them know that the patient’s heart and lungs are fine without having to take the time to say it, Tom,” I reply, keeping my life low and mild. The owner’s agitation is passing along to the little spaniel, who is looking around and panting.

“He keeps doing that, he’s panting and looking upset, is he in pain?”

“Claire, liquid charcoal according to weight please,” I murmur, and she promptly replied, “On it,” and she excused herself to open the door...only to find Kellie standing there, clearly eavesdropping. The look I gave Kellie had her scampering...but oh, it will not be far enough. Luckily, Tom did not notice.

“Okay, Tom, here’s how it stands.” I leaned against the exam table, Bobby quivering in Tom’s arms. “You did exactly the right thing bringing Bobby here, and so quickly. Raisins are extremely toxic to dogs, and the fact you got him here so fast really speaks to how much you care about this little guy...so give yourself some credit...”

“I told her...I told her I didn’t want them around where he could get to them...the Bobster is a bit of a food thief,” he muttered.

“Ok, so you’re telling me he’s a dog,” I drily replied. “Anyway, we’re going to take care of this issue right now. I’m going to take Bobby to the back and...”

“Oh no, can’t I go with him?”

Somehow, I saw this being his response. “Tom, we are going to give him some liquid charcoal. It looks like black sludge and it tastes like garbage. He isn’t going to want to take it so we are going to administer it in a way that he will have no choice but to swallow it, but there will most likely be some spluttering. This stuff is a bear and a half to get out of clothes so you do not want to be within spitting radius...and then this little charmkins, after he gives us a horrible stink eye, is going to proceed to vomit, probably in the messiest manner possible, just for spite and revenge, and I don’t blame him one bit. Again, you do not want to be in range! Then depending on what he gives me back, we can go from there. So no, I think it best you stay here...you can wait with your girlfriend, if you want, and I will be right back when I have something to tell you. I promise we aren’t going to hurt him, but we have to get this out, right away.”

“Right, right...don’t waste time talking to me...I’ll just...sit here, if that’s okay.” 

“As you wish, Tom.”

I took the leash from his hand gently. His hands were so cold, I felt pity for him. “I’ll take good care of him, I promise,” I said, and left him standing there, bereft.

Bobby walked with me well enough, and I took him to the treatment area to find Claire had already drawn up the appropriate amount. She quickly got the dog in the appropriate position, and I propped his mouth open carefully and quickly administer the liquid yuck and then closed my hand over his muzzle, blowing softly to stimulate the swallowing reflex. His eyes bulged at the foul concoction, and I tenderly explained,”Ah, such are the wages of sin, my dear thief...and it tastes like ass. Down the hatch...” He swallowed, and I gave Claire the unspoken head nod to release him and step back, which she did...as did I...and Bobby, outraged at this poor treatment, proceeded to sputter and spit like a world champion. Black froth went everywhere, and I couldn’t help but laugh at his outraged expression. “Yes Bobby, that’s right. But I’m sorry, it’s going to get much worse before it gets better...”

After a few minutes, he aggrieved expression turned into the anxious canine smile that presaged a good vomiting session, which was exactly what we wanted. I let him pace about in a small area, until finally he let nature take its course and released the contents of his stomach. Ah, joy, what every veterinarian struggled and sweat blood for, the contents of a dog’s stomach...or a cat, we’re not picky...and hey, I’ll take that over shit, any day...

“Good boy, there’s a good boy,” I soothed him as he retched. He was as miserable as you’d expect, and I kept smoothing my hand over his heaving flanks. I didn’t care about my shoes, they were already black, and just for this reason. Soon I saw a lone offender, and I called for a pair of tweezers to pluck it from the mess and place it on a paper towel. Claire was also consoling the sad little fellow, who was, I hope, reconsidering his evil ways, as I then took a tongue depressor and poked through everything he so woefully bestowed upon us. Yep, cheese...chewed up crackers...mmm, that sausage looked like it was probably expensive...but no other raisins. Just the one. Plus, it hadn’t been chewed, either, excellent! Best of all, it was caught up in all this other stuff. Perfect. Couldn’t ask for better, really.

“Kellie!” I called out. When she didn’t appear right away, my heart sank and my anxiety rose. She wasn’t...she didn’t...

“Hold the leash,” I barked and walked swiftly back to the exam room, and sure enough, I heard her syrupy tones inside...I saw red.

I opened the door carefully, to find her talking to Tom who was standing in almost a corner while she was yapping away. I must have had a look on my face like an avenging goddess, because she immediately began stammering, “I just thought...I could stay and keep Tom company...while you were working with Bobby...”

“Stop thinking, Kellie, it only gets you into more trouble, and it probably strains the gerbils,” I replied softly. “I have a job for you. In the back treatment area. Where I told you to be. Go there. Now.”

She turned towards Tom and said, “So, um...”

“NOW.”

She jumped and scuttled away like a crab facing a boiling pot. Oh, sister...

Tom was blushing and looking at his feet. “It happens all the time. Please don’t be too angry with her...how is Bobby?”

“Bobby is doing excellently and is a trooper. I will be back with you in just a moment. Just...give me a second.”

I flew to the back to find Kellie cowering in a corner. I took a deep breath, and spoke very, very quietly. “You are on such thin ice with me that if you so much as open your mouth, the displaced oxygen pressure will crack the ice and you. Will. Drown. Now. You are going to clean up all of this lovely mess to a surgical grade sterility. I will want to perform open heart surgery on this floor when you are finished. Are we quite clear? Nod if you understand me, Kellie, because you are on such. Thin. Ice.”

Kellie looked around here with dismay. It really was a disgusting mess, and she knew I was going to get down on my hands and knees and inspect the wretched baseboards before all was said and done. I was that pissed.

Claire asked quietly as we walked away, “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t think he absorbed anything. Tom acted too fast, the raisin wasn’t in any way chewed or showing signs of digestion, and it was mixed up with everything else. But pull blood for a CBC-SMAC so we can have a baseline for his kidney values just in case. Better safe than sorry. And then clean up this sad little urchin. I hope you understand now, young man, that crime does not pay...” He looked positively desolate, with his muzzle coated in the foul substance he had to drink and then give back. Activated charcoal really is the worst.

“I’ll make him presentable again. Back in a few.”

I took a deep breath and went to apologize to Tom. Oh, this was going to be fun...

I found him pacing the tiny room, looking at the posters instructing about heartworm prevention and feline leukemia vaccines. “Tom, I really must apologize...”

“No, you don’t. She’s young. It happens all the time,” he tried to brush it off.

“Not when I’m in this hospital, it doesn’t. I’d already given her explicit instructions because she was star-struck, and I will not have it. When someone comes in our door, I don’t care who is on the end of the leash, or holding the carrier. It is irrelevant. What matters is the animal. I give the same treatment and quality of care to the cat from the post office as...well...”

“The dog of some poncy actor,” he concluded wryly.

“Hey, I kinda like some of that poncy actor’s work, so less of that,” I griped, as I blushed and rubbed my forehead, mainly to hide my embarrassment. “Bobby came through wonderfully, and you were right, it was only one raisin...and some crackers, cheese, and what looked like some tasty cold cuts as well. What is great is the raisin wasn’t bitten into or showing any signs of digestion, and as it was caught up in his other ill gotten gains, I think it is safe to say he really got lucky...that, and the fact you acted so quickly. Normally, we’d be talking about having to administer fluids, and have him stay at least overnight to make sure his kidneys were not showing any adverse effects...yes, it is that serious. Especially for a little fellow of Bobby’s size. But he should be fine. I want you to make sure he has access to lots of water. I am having a full blood panel pulled to get a baseline of his kidney values now but that is really just a precaution for when you bring him back to his regular veterinarian...”

“You can’t see him again? He hasn’t needed a vet since we’ve arrived, and I never anticipated having to stay as long as we have...but what if he gets sick, or needs his vaccines updated, can’t we come back here...?”

“Tom, this is an emergency vet hospital, I’m only here on the off hours. My clinic is...well, not here,” I floundered.

“May I have your card, then? I’d really like for you to keep overseeing him...continuity of care, you know,” he trailed off.

“Uh, sure...” I fished one out of my lab coat pocket and gave him one. He looked at it and said, “What should I be looking for, what if he starts getting ill again?”

“Tom, I really don’t think...”

“I can bring him back here, I suppose, I just want to know what symptoms...you said kidney damage...”

“Tom, kidney damage isn’t something you can readily observe...”

“But what if he starts getting that look again, and starts pacing, maybe he’s in pain and can’t tell me...”

“Tom.” He stopped rambling and I held my hand out for my card. Like a child, he held it to his chest. “No, please, I’ll stop...”

“Just give me the damn card, will ya?” I all but yanked it out of his hand, and wrote something on the back. “That is my private cell number. Do not call it, ever! I hate phone calls! Text me. I promise I will lose the cell number you send it from. If you have any questions you can send me video or photos or whatever. Text me...whenever. But keep in mind he picks up on your cues and if you are nervous, he gets nervous. If you are excited, he gets excited.”

He looked at it incredulously, and before he could protest, I waved it off. “Just don’t...I did the same thing for Mr. Puddles.”

“Mr. Puddles,” he repeated dumbly.

“The post office cat...urinary tract infection...anyway.”

Those bright blue eyes stopped staring at the floor impaled me, and said abruptly, “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Treating me like a person.”

I looked at him steadily and replied, “Because to me, that’s what you are...you’re Bobby’s person. And...well, I know you probably weren’t supposed to stay here this long. You most likely want to go home, be with your family, what is familiar, and god knows what you are living in, some hotel or something suitably sterile...Right now, we all want to hold onto our loved ones a little bit tighter, a little bit closer. I can tell that for you, that’s Bobby. You love him a lot, and take great care of him, even to taking him to an emergency vet on a holiday weekend when the weather is gorgeous and your girlfriend says maybe you could just stay home.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Huh?” Such was my elegant reply.

“No, she’s wonderful, and we’re very close, but it’s not...we’re not...”

I hold my hands up in the air. “It’s okay, you don’t have to explain anything to me...”

 “No I just, erm...”

We spent time admiring the floor when Claire came back, with Bobby cleaned and even faintly smelling of grooming spray, as well as being freshly brushed. 

“Bobby!” Tom cried out, and even though I could not see his smile, I could hear it in the real joy in his voice. Bobby wriggled his behind and danced as he all but leapt into his master’s...excuse me, person’s arms.

“Well, that should settle everything,” I smiled.

“Just a moment.”

I looked up at Tom, confused. He sounded almost stern.

“I think Bobby and I could use some photographs to commemorate the great care that he received here...for our scrapbook.”

“Scrapbook? Really, Tom?”

“Instagram,” he immediately amended.

The buzz that went through the building, I swear was palpable. Of course, I even allowed Kellie to get in the photo, because I am not that bad...and if her scrubs were stained with dog vomit, well, you couldn’t really see. Much. And of course we all had to keep our masks on, so I personally thought it was the dumbest idea I’d heard in a long time, but I wasn’t going to go against the idea. I might have found three of my tires slashed and my favorite coffee mug broken, if I had...and I really like that mug, plus tires are not cheap.

Everyone took their photos, hugged Bobby, gave Tom an elbow bump, and he, Bobby and Not-Girlfriend went on their way...then I went back to my office, made sure everything was documented, and went back to my oversized tennis ball.

I thought everything was over. I could not help was smiling, despite myself. Not too shabby of a way to spend a holiday weekend, making a movie star dog’s throw up...this is why I went through all those years of school, I laughed at myself as I sat down with my frozen pizza and lemonade. I even made a bag of popcorn.

Then, at about ten o’clock, my phone buzzed. I picked it up, expecting it to be my mother, who sometimes forgot about this thing called “time zones” since she moved to Arizona...

Instead, there was a photo of a happy, smiling man, without a mask, and his happy, smiling dog. A text read, “To my favorite doc: Thanks again for helping me. Telling dad all about how the wages of sin taste like ass.”

I winced. I had no idea he’d overheard that.

So I sent a photo back of me. Without my mask, or makeup, or getting a hairdo, because in front of me was the best makeup job ever—my Corgi, Cheeks.

The attached text said, “Stop licking it then...and she says you are very welcome. I don’t know what you did, bro...but check your balls.”

The phone buzzed yet again, this time without a photo, “Thanks a LOT. Now I’m really in trouble...! TH”

“Sorry. Cheeks is still sore over that one. It happened about two months ago and he is still telling the world what a horrible human I am. DH”

“Bobby wants to know...perhaps Cheeks would like to get acquainted and play sometime soon? The dog park close to your clinic looks promising.”

“Cheeks thinks that would be amazing. He is still very much a puppy and has a lot of energy to burn. He’d love a friend to tear around with instead of trying to wrap his leash around my ankles.”

“Maybe...we could have some coffee while they wear each other out?”

“That sounds like a fantastic plan.”

“Could we say...9:00 Wednesday morning?”

“Yes, I’d like that. I’ll be the half asleep one with the hyperactive pooch, I won’t have hours until one o’clock that afternoon.”

“I’ll be the tall one...wearing a mask that is not covered with flowers.”

I laughed out loud.

“I think we will find each other well enough.”

There was a brief pause, and then, “Yes, I think we have. Goodnight, Cheeks, and Diana.” 

“Goodnight, Bobby and Tom...it’s been a ruff day.”

“...I can’t believe you said that.” 

“XD woof.”

Tagging all my littermates: @catsladen, @villainousshakespeare, @winterisakiller, @vodka-and-some-sass, @yespolkadotkitty, @just-the-hiddles, @hopelessromanticspoonie, @theheartofpenelope, @sabine-leo, @wegingerangelica, @ciaodarknessmyheart, @wrathkitty, @rhemasky, @sourpatchkidsandacokecan, @redfoxwritesstuff, @the-insomniac-cat2, @alexakeyloveloki, @myoxisbroken​, @toomanystoriessolittletime​, @ladyfluff, @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi​

[boogiewrites]

A Shelby in Margate

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Shelby Sister (OFC), Tommy Shelby

Summary: Penny Shelby has only wanted one thing, to not be a Shelby.  Perhaps the man she’s loved from afar can help her with that.

Warnings/Tags: Angst and Fluff. CONTAINS SEASON 5 SPOILERS.

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

A Shelby sister is something no one asks to be, and certainly something no one really wants. Especially when the relationship to a very bold and brash man named Tommy Shelby causes such grief in your life that you give up on finding a happiness that most women expect out of life and you move forward with the form of Scarlet Letter on your face that being Shelby lends.

Penelope or Penny Shelby was as crude and difficult as the rest of her siblings. Born after Tommy and before Ada, her darling sass of a little sister that she took great pride in helping raise. With the Romani blood running fiercely in her veins just like her Aunt Polly, before Tommy was a household name in Birmingham she could’ve gotten away with saying she wasn’t a Shelby at all due to the dark complexion she held. Olive skin set her apart and caused her enough trouble from the prejudice of the travelers and Irish alike she came from. She held that same icy blue eyes of her older brother, and hair as black as the coal from the fires they grew up with. A smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks like her mother and a glare that could cause a grown man to tremble like her closest Aunt Polly.

Despite her strong exterior, the pain and turmoil of her life, mostly derived from her older brothers had left her soft and weary on the inside. She drank to cope, as did they all. She didn’t turn to the drugs, as if Tommy would’ve ever let her hear the end of it. She had been stronger, both inside and out only a few years prior. The final blow leaving her gaunt and haunted was the loss of a man she had thought of as her own, even if he never had been in any formal sense. Oh, how she’d loved him. His ability to outsmart her seemingly unstoppable brother, his smart mouth and intimidating physique. He was unlike anything she’d ever experienced and found herself enamored with the only slightly older man who she saw as her escape from forever being known as a Shelby.

There were few names as infamous as Solomons, and she knew that name would be her ticket out of the shadow of her brother. Unfortunately, Alfie was a bit more hesitant than she. Not that she wasn’t a lovely little bird, reminding him of some forest nymph from a fairy tale his mother would’ve told him as child with her haunting eyes and a smile so out of place with its genuine affection for him among a clan of troublesome Shelby’s it made his chest stir in a way he feared. She had proven herself loyal to him, little hints she knew he was clever enough to catch in the fleeting moments alone they shared. He knew she fancied him, lingering touches of her hand to his as she spoke softly and quietly. Eye contact that never wavered and that bloody smile she only had for him. It wasn’t until an encounter that her brother didn’t know about to this day, that he finally knew her intention.

“Penny, love? What are you doing here?”

“Saving your stubborn arse.” she chokes out, hands shaking with the heavy pistol between them, still smoking from the bullet just gone through the Italians head that was about the draw on him.

“Does your brother know you-”

“Fuck Tommy!” the tears finally break in her eyes and begin their descent down her cheeks. She lowers the gun and lays it on a crate beside her, slumping onto a hip height box with the exhaustion shown on her face. “He’s the reason John’s dead. The reason why these fucking wops are after us. And now YOU. I can’t lose anyone else.”

“There there, pet.” he says pushing the gun away and not knowing what to do except take her hand.

“I came to tell you they were coming for you. I overheard it. I couldn’t let them kill you, Alfie, I can’t lose you too.” she begins to sob, something he never thought a Shebly was capable of at that point. Grabbing his shirt she pushes herself into his arms.

“Lose me?”

“Alfie you’re too clever to not know how I feel about you.” she shakes her head and doesn’t meet his eyes.

“I had…suspected.” he pauses, his gut hurting for the poor lass. “But your brother.”

“I said FUCK TOMMY SHELBY! I never asked for this! I don’t want to BE a Shelby! I’m done. Finished. I can’t take life in his shadow.”

“Penny…love…” he says softly, “I”m leavin’ ya know. Retirin’. I’m finished with this life, I know they’re comin’ for us all. And I’m takin’ my gains and I’m gone.”

“Where?”

“That’s no concern for you. The less you know the better.”

“Take me with you.”

“That would be the end of me.” he lets out an amusing sound, almost a laugh.

“Alfie. I’ve admired you from afar for so long. It feels almost childish to think of you as my own when we’ve never even discussed it. We’ve barely been allowed time alone. But I feel something so strongly for you. It must be love.”

“You are not a child at all. And I’ve known by the way that bloody smile takes me out at my knees like a steel pipe that there was somethin’ there.” He sees the hope flicker in her eyes and his heartbreaks. “But we can’t. I’m not the man for you. As much as I’d like to be. It ain’t me love.”

She leaves with gunpowder on her hands and tears staining her dress that night. The news he was dead found her not too long after that. And now she stood mere yards away, unknowingly, from the man she’d loved from afar that she had mourned and still thought was dead.

—–

“What fuckin’ else can I do for ya Tom? From the way that hats being wrung I know that ain’t all ya want of me.” Alfie gruffs, reclined in his velvet chair that faces that balcony of his mansion in MArgate where he hides.

“There is one more person… that I want to know you’re alive.” his voice is as flat and dead as his face lends you to believe he is.

“Not asking for much, eh?” Alfie raises a brow. “Who?”

“Someone that deserves to know.” the way his shoulders slouched told Alfie everything he needed to know. Guilt that sat heavy on Tommy’s shoulders for what he’d almost done. And not for Alfie’s sake, but for Penny’s.

“Mmmph.” he nods. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Best she thinks I”m dead. What use as I to her now?”

“I knew she loved you.” he states plainly.

A fact that Alfie actually hadn’t known. “Did you?”

“You think I don’t know me own baby sister?” he asks with a slight twist of anger.

“Said no such thing.”

“You’ll want to thank her for Cyril being taken such good care of. She’s treated that dog as if it were her own son.” a ghost of a smile crosses his lips. “That is after she cried for a month after she heard you were dead.” he pauses. “You know she cried more over you than her own husband?”

Alfie only nods. Knowing like most women her age her first husband died in the war. He realizes she had truly meant what she said. “We never…” Alfie clears his throat. “Y’know.” his attempts at being respectful amuse Tommy deeply.

“I knew that too.” he nods.

“Why do you want to hurt the poor girl again?”

“She visits your grave, Alfie. Just the other day she was telling Cyril stories of his papa.”

Alfie’s stomach turns. Had he made a mistake? Had he been too selfish.

“I take it by you being here she doesn’t know you’re the one what done it.”

“She does not.”

“Mmm. And how are you going to work around that?”

“Once she knows you are not dead I won’t have to.”

“I know you’re gambling man Tommy but those are steep odds. Against you, I might add.”

“I know her. She’ll forgive me.”

“That's’ what you bank on every time innit?”

Tommy glares at him. A silence falls between them as Alfie looks out to the sea from the open set of doors on the balcony.

“Alright.” Alfie grunts and sits up, taking a deep breath. “Since she’s taken care of my dog. ‘Spose she deserves to know.” he nods, taking a heavy sigh. “But I might frighten her now. She won’t be seein’ who I was.”

“I’ve heard her prayers, Alfie. When she thinks no one, not even God is listenin’ to her anymore. She won’t be frightened.”

A grunt is all he can say to such a thing.

“I’ll go fetch her.” Tommy says as he groans and stands.

“Ya fuckin’ what? Now?”

“She’s just outside.”

“What the fuckin’ hell Tom?” he gruffs out angrily. “Ya can’t just appear to a man in such a way and demand things of him in a state like I am!”

“She deserves to know,” he states plainly again. “I brought her because I didn’t want you going back on your word after you had time to think about it.”

Alfie gives his signature frown. A bottom lip jutted over his mustache in frustration. “Fuckin’ ‘ell. Not even had time to think ‘bout it!���

“That’s the purpose this serves. She deserves to have a real reaction. Not your carefully crafted answers.”

“What do you want of me Tom?” he asks plainly. “You surely don’t want her to be with me? Especially not NOW.” he juts the scarred side of his face forward.

“It’s no issue to me how you look. That’d be up to her, wouldn’t it? But have you known Penny to be shallow?”

Alfie sits back in his chair, elbows on his knees and looks at the dusty rug beneath his boots. “Lass is as deep as the ocean.” he mutters. She’d told him everything he as to her, a body was nothing but a vessel for his soul she said. Something he’d thought a bit naive back then, but upon reflection he found it taking a new meaning to him. Maybe a Shelby was right about something stranger things had happened.

“Then I’ll fetch her. I suggest you figure out which side of yourself you’re going to be honest with.”

—–

Penny in her summer dress wanders the garden as she was instructed, feeling the kiss of a sea salt breeze against her face. She loved the sea, and so rarely had seen it, felt it against her skin. The open expanse of it, the infinite mystery and possibility it held fascinated her. Tommy’s voice breaks her from her reflection, leaning against a stone wall and looking out at the waves crashing into the daunting cliffs.

“Come now Penny, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

She nods and fusses with her windblown hair. “This house is lovely.” she almost coos as she crosses the threshold.

Alfie hears her voice. What sort of man had he been to hurt her how he did. To prolong it in such a way. She was a rose among the thorns of her family, the women the only ones worth a damn out of them. She’d saved his life, took in a painful reminder of him and cared for Cyril after he was gone, kept his memory alive and he’d abandoned her. If she shot him where he stood he’d deserve it.

“Look at all this.” he can feel the genuine lilt like a songbird to her voice. “Who lives here? This place is fantastic. Look at all these interesting and eclectic things. You could spend hours and never see the end of it.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Tommy says standing in the archway into the room where Alfie stood. “Here’s the owner. You can discuss it all with him.” What a loaded statement and delivered so cooly.

Penny walks slowly, taking in her surroundings with great interest before her head turned and saw the man silhouetted in the light of the sun, framed by two open patio doors with that same sea breeze fluttering the long curtains that hung. She freezes, eyes fluttering in confusion. That posture, that build. The vest and the white billowy sleeves. A glint of light of the rings that adorned his overworked hands. It was him.

“Wh-I- H-how?” she whispers out, not even loud enough for Alfie to hear, but Tommy heard every beat of her heart as he watched the realization come over her face.

“‘Ello, love.” that warm, liquor voice that burned and soothed hit her like a hammer, taking her knees out from under her as Tommy caught her.

She squeaks and tears appear hot and plentiful in her eyes. “You can’t…you…” her breathing wheezes and she holds onto Tommy for support, her body failing her out of shock.

He turns his good side first, seeing her just as lovely as she ever had been. Sun-kissed skin from the season spent in the north in the caravans, that long wavy hair that framed her shocked face, touseled perfectly by the winds of MArgate. Despite the posh sort of dress Tommy was now known for, she was still in simple cotton. Her boots tight around her ankles and shiny, dirt under her nails from the garden. A salt of the earth woman that was wrongfully placed in the shit hole of Birmingham away from nature where she belonged.

“Alfie.” she finally forces out.

“Yeah, love. I’m afraid it’s me.” he says with a pain in his voice, one of fear of rejection as he lets the light show his true side as he called it. The side of him that showed what a monster he had been, the monster he was.

Her face remains unchanged. “Alfie you…” she wheezes and gasps, he takes a step towards her and she pushes out of her brother’s arms. Stumbling with the numbness in her limbs as she finds herself once again sobbing into the shirt of the man she still loved. No matter how hard she’d tried not to over these last years.

“There, there, pet.” he says just as he had the last time she’d heard it, but this time it is accompanied by the wrapping of warm and affectionate arms around her. He shushes her as she cries, soaking his shirt and hiccuping, a hand stroking her hair, the other rubbing her back. All things she’d dreamed of so often she’d lost track of if they’d ever happened or not.

“Is this real? Or did I jump off the cliffs outside and now I’ve somehow found myself not in hell?” she manages to get out with her forehead pressed to his chest.

“You’d most certainly go to heaven. And since I am here with you, I’m afraid that means we’re both very much still alive.”

“HOW? I heard you were shot!” her voice break as she looks up from his chest to meet his face. Seeing nothing but the man she’d longed for. She’d told God she didn’t care what state he was in, just give him back to her. Her last chance at happiness, her last shot to have someone who truly could understand her and her life.

“I was. As you can tell.” he shrugs his shoulder on the marked side of his face. Just as Tommy as said, and Alfie is fully frustrated he was correct, she reaches up to touch his face without even an inkling of regret or fear o disgust.

“Are you still hurt?” is her concern and he takes a long, deep breath to compose himself. He didn’t deserve her. Maybe he’d known all along and that was why he’d told her now. Because deep down, who gave a fuck what Tommy Shelby thought.

“It does sometimes, yeah.” he nods, speaking softly as her fingertips move over the raised scar on his cheek, looking over the milky eye that was blinded by the same bullet that made the disfigurement she was touching as if was perfect skin. “Certainly doesn’t right now though.” his voice is quiet, looking into her bright eyes full of tears for him.

One dark eye under the same heavy brow and a fuller beard now that hid those full lips, unphased by the shot, beaming down at her with what she could’ve sworn was affection. “How?”

“Man that shot me can’t shoot worth a damn is how.”

He sees storm clouds darken her eyes in a more clear moment of recognition. “Who?”

“That’s a question for your brother.” he leans in close, almost touching his forehead to hers.

She spins out of his arms, suddenly full of vengeance and steady. “Who?” she demands.

Tommy takes his stand. “I did.”

“YOU BASTARD!” she lunges at him and is whisked off her feet by Alfie.

“Can’t argue with that.” Tommy mumbles.

“YOU KNEW! YOU FUCKING KNEW HOW I FELT ABOUT HIM AND YOU TRIED TO KILL HIM? YOU FUCKING WANK STAIN! YOU ABSOLUTE MAD BASTARD!” she screams and fights against Alfie’s arms to maim her brother. He would’ve laughed if he hadn’t been so focused on keeping her from hurting herself.

“I asked him to!” Alfie shouts and he feels her little legs stop kicking.

Her head shakes in confusion. It was a lot on the poor lass to take in all at once. “Wha-What?” she squeaks and keeps her eyes on Tommy as Alfie sits her feet back to the floor.

Tommy stands with a confident nod. Not sure if he was proud that Alfie took credit for what had happened, because he had all but pulled the trigger.

“I asked him to, Penny.”

“Why?!” she screeches with a hand to her chest as she faces him, back humped over and heart feeling as if it might give out.

“The doctor. Wrongfully so told me I had cancer love.”

Once again her knees fail her as he scoops her up into his arms, seeing her head wobble and eyes lose focus.

“Poor things gonna faint.” he mutters, sitting in his chair and pulling her into his lap.

“She’ll be fine. Give her a moment.” Tommy says with complete faith. He was asking a lot of her, but he knew she could take it. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have gone through with it. As hard as he was, as much as he’d agree he was a mad bastard, he didn’t want to purposely hurt his sisters. It just so happened they got in the way of his plans at times and Penny found herself right in the middle of them currently.

“C-cancer?” she asks with a gasp of air, fighting to stabilize herself. She felt light-headed, but the arms around her helped, the beat of the heart under her palm helped the most.

“Yeah. Told me I was gonna die. I didn’t wanna waste away y’know? Not any sort of death for a man to face.” she shook his head. “Your brother and I. Had a…sort of agreement. To kill one another if it came down to it, yeah?”

“What in the fuck are you talking about?”

Her brash tone makes him chuckle. “The correct response, yes love. “ he nods. “I was told I was dyin’. Had Tommy meet me on that beach out there to kill me. And he thought he did. But add it to the long list of things your brother innit good at.”

His brows shift and rise and fall across her face, eyes wide and questioning. “You thought you were going to die. So you wanted ti over with.”

“I told you she’d understand.” Tommy adds from across the room, staying silent and still.

“Of course my friend’s mum… it would’ve been a kindness to end it for her.” she reflects. “So… you knew?” she asks with hands no longer shaking. “When I… told you about…how I…:

“I did.” he nods. “I wasn’t gonna put you through that. That’s not…that ain’t me, love.”

“I would have.” she states with conviction and his shoulders falter at the hurt in her eyes. “I mourned you. I cried until nothing came out any longer. I drank, I took pills, tonics, hoping to wake up wherever you were. I would’ve still…It wouldn’t have stopped me.”

“You don’t mean that…”

“Don’t tell me what I fucking mean Alfie!”

Tommy smiles from across the room.

“Right, right, sorry mate.” he sputters out with true surprise in his raised brow. Something about this little lady cut him down from newly adorned god status to a man stuttering in apology. Tommy knew at that moment he’d made the right decision.

Her breathing heavy and fast, she glares at him. “My head is spinning, my heart is on fire and my stomach feels like it’s gonna fall out my arse and I don’t know if want to kill you myself or .or,..” her bottom lip gives her away, a hand to his cheek as she shakes her head and groans.

“…love me?” he asks with a raise of the brow he could. It was a gamble to ask. But with her heart racing like a hummingbird, he could feel against his own chest where she sat.

“How dare you,” she whispers back. But her face isn’t offended, a thumb drifting softly over his blind eye and to his temple. “I can kill you and still love you.” she offers with a smile finally gracing her lips. “I have…I mean, I do. Still. Even now.”

“With me lookin’ like this.”

“Like what? Like a strong man who defied death? Don’t be daft Alfie. I wanted you back no matter what. And I meant it. I meant despite you hiding, letting me think you were dead. Oh, letting poor Cyril think you were dead.” her brows furrow and his heart warms like it hadn’t in decades.

He gives her a smile she finds most peculiar. She’d never seen it before on his face.

“What?” she whispers.

“You, love.”

“What about me?”

The smile remains, followed by a sigh as he looks over her face. Hurt, but holding no hate for him. He puts his hand to her cheek to mirror her own delicate actions. “Why me Penny, eh? Surely other men deserve a woman like you more than me.”

“No other man can handle me. And you know this.”

Another, wider grin from him.

“If I could choose who I love, and I can’t, I’d choose someone else because I know you would be nothing but a pain in the arse but….goddammit Alfie I do.” she gives his face a little shake and presses her forehead to his.

“I don’t deserve a woman like you. You know that right?”

“No one deserves anything, Alfie. You know this. Things just happen.”

“Fuck me, I really don’t deserve ya.” he groans and kisses her forehead.

“But do you want me? Did you ever?”

“You should know I did. I only wanted to protect you.”

“What about now?” she asks with brave eyes that pierce into his, not allow him to look away. “There’s nothing to hide behind now. No protecting me. Just… end it now or let this be the beginning.”

“Fuckin’ ‘ell…” he sighs. “How are you a Shelby with a mind that says things like that?” A slow sweep of his thumb over her lips makes her eyes shut and held her breath for an answer. A man like him couldn’t touch a woman like this without something in his heart for her, could he? “I… did and I…do. A man like me… he’s not so good at matters of the heart. The mind is where my talents lie.”

“Then let this be your first lesson.” she kisses the tip of his thumb. “Tell me you love me.”

“Penny I-”

“Thomas, leave.” she interrupts, both hands on Alfie’s face, that smile he’d missed and dreamed of from time to time back and in full force, assaulting his sensibility.

“Already got my hat on. You know my number.” he says and saunters away, content by the way things had played out.

“Now tell me Alfie, love. Let me hear it.” she whispers, nuzzling her nose against his.

“I love you Penny.” he manages with closed eyes. “You’re strong and brilliant. Not suited for the name of Shelby at all.”

She smiles against his lips, feeling the words warm over her skin like honey tea. “Perhaps you could come up with a way to change that?” she grins and he’s blessed with her soft laugh once again.

“I do believe I could.” he coos and finally gives her the soft kiss that she’d been dreaming of. A promise she’d get what she always wanted, to not be called Shelby.

[p-artsypants]

Longest Night (38) Disobeying

So, I mentioned this on my Tumblr, but I guess some people didn’t see it, and left some pretty rude comments on the last chapter. While the world is in quarantine, that doesn’t mean I have tons of free time. I am working full-time remotely, and even more hours than normal. So don’t demand more of me because ‘I have nothing better to do’. Trust me, I’d love to write more.

For those of you who are always very patient and kind: Thank you, my little angels. I write for you and you only.

Ao3 | FF.net

—

“How are you today, Adrien?” Dr. Boucher asked.

‘Much better!’ Past Adrien would have said, considering he was off the ventilator. But today’s Adrien was much less enthused. He just laid there, staring at the doctor, before flicking his gaze to stare at the wall.

“The good news is, you can drink as much water as you’d like. We’d actually prefer if you drink as much as you can.” The doctor set the styrofoam cup down on the side table.

To Gabriel’s dismay, this also didn’t get a response from the boy. Adrien was listless, hollow, and a dull husk of his old vibrant self.

“So, since we’ve got you off the ventilator, I’m going to check something. We’ll sit you up, and then we’re going to perform a Laryngoscopy on you.”

Adrien at least looked at the doctor at this point.

“It’s a pretty painless procedure. From what I observed from the stream, I believe you may have developed vocal nodules. They’re little calluses that form on the vocal cords and cause the voice to became horse and raspy, as well as neck pain and exhaustion. Though I’m sure you’re exhausted for other reasons too.” He grinned. “So what we’ll do is, we’re going to fish a small camera in your nose down the back of your throat to look at the vocal cords. We’ll keep you awake for it. If you do have vocal nodules, we can perform surgery on them, depending on how big they are. Does that sound okay?”

Adrien didn’t answer. They were going to do whatever to him anyway, why would he have to consent to anything?

“Let’s just take a look first and see what we can do.”

Adrien really was a model patient. He did exactly as he was told during the exam, and even made some noise to move his vocal cords.

“Yep,” said the doctor. “He’s got a pair of matching ones. Big. These will have to be removed before he’s able to talk normally again.”

“Is that why he’s not talking now?”

“Could be. They are painful. But it can also be a psychological problem. Only Adrien has the answer. I’m sure he’ll communicate eventually, though patience is the best medicine for him right now.”

Adrien rolled his eyes at the conversation. Gabriel was never known for his patience before, especially when it came to him. Why would he start now?

Dr. Boucher fished the endoscope out, and let Adrien relax. “Great job, Adrien. That didn’t hurt too bad, did it?”

He shook his head.

“That’s a good boy.” He rubbed his hair.

The rest of the day passed slowly and in boredom. There was no TV in his room, and Gabriel hadn’t let him have a phone or tablet to look online. So he spent his time passing in and out of restless sleep.

The clock on the wall showed it to be around seven when Gabriel stood and stretched. “Son,” he stated, waking him a little more. “I’m going to go home tonight. I’m really happy with the progress you’re making, and I’m confident enough I can leave you in the doctors care until I return in the morning.”

He could have just left. Either way, Adrien didn’t really care.

Gabriel held the ring up in front of him, pinching it between his fingers. “Now, I’m going to leave this with you. Because it rightfully belongs to you. But you have to promise me you won’t use it.”

Adrien reached for it.

But Gabriel pulled it away. “Promise me.”

With a sigh, Adrien nodded, and held out his hand patiently.

Considering it good enough, Gabriel dropped the ring back into his hand.

“Ahhhhhhh!” Plagg stretched from where he had been sleeping on Adrien’s stomach. “It’s good to be back where I belong!”

“You can feel through the ring?” Gabriel asked, astonished.

“It’s a spiritual thing,” the cat drawled, nuzzling against Adrien’s hand. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “No, I suppose not. Adrien, I’ll bring you some pajamas in the morning so you can change out of the gown.”

Adrien didn’t bother responding. Instead, he slid the ring on his finger, watching as it shrank to adapt to the weight loss.

He hadn’t noticed how naked he felt without the ring on. But having it back felt like a piece of him was falling back into place.

Just right.

Gently, he rubbed his thumb over the band and just savored the feeling of having control back in his hands. He closed his eyes, and just reveled.

Plagg watched this with concern and a touch of curiosity as the hours passed. Adrien’s eyes twitched, and his brow creased in concentration. He remained this way long after the nurse came and turned off the light to sleep.

He wasn’t just admiring the feeling of the ring, he was thinking.

But the moment Plagg realized what he was thinking about, by then it was too late.

“Kid, you prom—!” Was all he could say before being sucked into the ring.

Like a drug addict finally getting a fix after being sober for days on end, the power rushed over Adrien and filled him with strength and adrenaline. The pain waned, and his focus sharped razor sharp. All his cords and tubes became disconnected and alarms started blaring.

He flung the sheets off of him, and rolled onto the floor, lacking the finesse to slide and stand. The police standing guard were already coming in the room, begging him to drop his transformation.

But Chat Noir refused, withdrawing his baton from behind his back. He let the staff do the work, extending it to hit one man in the balls, and the other in the jaw. Then, with a little work, he was up on his feet and staggering passed the guards.

Though gifted with superhuman strength, his body wasn’t used to moving. He shuffled and wobbled down the hall, frustrated with his own body for not working properly.

“Chat Noir?” A nurse asked in horror.

He hissed at her.

“Chat Noir!” She shrieked. “Wait!” Then she bit her tongue as she remembered training. She held her hands out at her sides, palm up. “Hey, it’s okay. Relax. What do you need? What can I do to help you?”

He shrieked at her, his voice cracking painfully.

“My name is Sam, okay Adrien?” She took a careful step forward as several staff members approached quietly from behind, intent on subduing him. “Do you want to see Ladybug? We can make that happen, okay? Let’s just get you a wheelchair, and you can transform—“

He shook his head violently. He was done waiting. ‘Oh you’ll see her soon’ they said ‘just wait a little longer’ they said. Well, he waited. And no one was letting him see her. He was sick of it. He extended the baton to knock her in the stomach.

“Move!” Someone shouted from behind, before a pair of arms hooked under his arms and pulled backwards. He was pulled off balance, but managed to stomp the person’s toes to let him go.

“Someone prepare 2 mg of lorazepam, we’re going to need to administer it the second we subdue him!”

But Chat wasn’t about to let that happen. He broke into a run, the best he could, and took off down the hall.

He had no idea where he was going, but looked into every room he passed, catching the attention of a lot of staff members.

It became a hospital wide game of tag.

Chat really didn’t want to hurt anyone, but if they were standing in his way, he was using force. At one point, he had gotten pinned by two robust men while a female nurse prepared to administer the sedative. He thrashed wildly, getting one arm free to scratch the woman in the face. One of the men attempted to recover the dropped syringe, only to loosen his hold on Chat, who then wriggled himself free and threw the other man off of him.

“Someone get John! He plays flag football on the weekends!”

“John’s off today!”

“Son of a bitch!”

As the chase went on, Chat grew more and more frantic and feral. He hissed at patients and staff alike, his eyes darting out and around, trying desperately to find a clue to his lady.

Then a little mousey nurse stood in front of him at the end of the hall. She looked shocked to see him barreling towards her, and froze like a deer in the headlights.

If Chat had to run her over, so be it. He wasn’t stopping.

Coming out of her shock, the little nurse held up her hands and shouted at him. “Third floor, room 308!”

As he came upon her, he grasped her by the shoulders and spun her out of the way, unharmed.

Just beyond her were the elevators, and he sprinted in one as the door was closing.

Inside, there was already a passenger, an old man with a bouquet of flowers. “Would you mind hitting the button for the fifth floor? My eyes aren’t what they used to be.”

As Chat heaved a breath from his sprint, he looked curiously at the man, and then hit the button as the man asked, as well as his own.

At the third floor, he was off in a sprint again. Counting down the room numbers until he reached the end of the hall. The police officers standing guard should have been a clear sign.

“Chat Noir, we can’t let you in.” One said firmly.

He hissed in response.

“Did you say Chat Noir?” Marinette’s sweet voice called from inside the room.

His ears dropped and his eyes dilated. Chat trembled and walked forward, ignoring the protests of the officers. Vaguely, he heard Tom talking to them, reasoning with them to leave him be.

But none of that mattered now, because she was here. His lady.

Like seeing the sun finally rise, or taking the first breath of clean air, Chat felt goosebumps settle down his spine as his body relaxed. A hand settled on his back to keep him steady, but his legs still wobbled.

She was so beautiful. Unbathed, bruised, and crusty, but still so beautiful. Those bluebell eyes that remained unchanged, and bored into him with a passion. It set the tips of his fingers tingling with the ache to have her, to touch her.

It was only a second as Marinette digested what she was seeing as real, before she flung her sheets off and hurried to him.

Her steps were weak and wobbly, and she almost fell. But she reached him, just as he started to slide to the floor. Her arms hooked under his and they dropped to the ground.

“Kitty…” she breathed.

In a voice so quiet it was barely audible, Adrien released his transformation. Once the strength was gone, he hissed in pain, and curled closer to her.

“Rebuke him,” Plagg huffed. “He promised he wouldn’t transform, and the second he was clear, he went ahead and did it.”

Marinette raised a hand to his head and brushed back his bangs back to kiss him. “My sweet, reckless kitty.”

He closed his eyes, exhausted from his excursion. But now he could rest, because he was with her.  

Marinette leaned her forehead against his, soaking in his warmth. Oh how she missed him. His touch filled her soul with a quiet calmness she hadn’t felt since that final night in the catacombs. Back then, she was holding him as he was dying, but now?

Now he was living. And it felt so right.

There was a clamor at the door as several staff members finally caught up to him.

“He just wants to be with Marinette,” Tom explained. “We can’t separate them.”

“Did someone tell Dr. Boucher Adrien escaped?”

“He went home for the night, but I’ll call him.”

Now that no one was trying to tackle him and tranquilize him, Adrien actually allowed a smile to grace his face.

“That can’t be comfortable down there,” said Tom, knelling. “Let’s get you kiddos on the bed, hm?”

Adrien didn’t fight the man. He was right, it was extremely uncomfortable on the floor.

Tom and another nurse helped them stand, and then sit on the bed, only for Adrien to lean on Marinette. In turn, she raked her nails over his scalp, eliciting a purr from his chest.

The doctor who had left to make the call to Dr. Boucher returned. “Dr. Boucher will be back in a little bit. But he said it’s best if we move Adrien’s bed up here.”

“Is he stable enough for that?”

“Doesn’t matter if he’s going to run away every chance he gets. Dr.  Boucher says it’ll be alright since he’s off of a ventilator now. He and Marinette have a team assigned to them specifically anyways.” The doctor came to Adrien and touched his knee. “Alright, you got what you wanted. You get to stay with Ladybug. But please, on behalf of the staff here, Don’t. Do that. Again.”

He rolled his eyes, but understood.

“Seriously Mr. Agreste,” The doctor continued. “Protocol demands that if patients show excessive violence towards staff, we are to put them in seclusion. I don’t want to do that to you. Especially after everything you’ve been through. So this is the only warning I’m giving you.”

Oh, seclusion didn’t sound fun. So he nodded in agreement.

“Good. I have to get back to my patients, but your team will be bringing the bed and equipment up soon. Please try not to move.” He sighed, and left the room.

Tom rubbed Adrien’s head. “You crazy kid.” There was no rebuking, no scolding or judgement, though he deserved it. Tom just didn’t see the point in it.

Before too long, a pair of nurses moved his bed into the room, moving Marinette over to make room. Then they moved Adrien into bed. “Don’t get too comfortable,” said one. “Dr. Boucher is going to need to examine you, and you’ll probably have your drains and catheter replaced.”

Adrien grunted in protest.

They had him lean on his side to check his stitches all the way down his back to his calves. “Despite your little stunt, your sutures look to be in good shape. I don’t see any pulls or tears.”

Finally, Dr. Boucher arrived, dressed in casual clothes. “Adrien, you teleported!”

Adrien hunched his shoulders slightly in shame.

“Dr. Kranken told me he gave you a thorough scolding, so I’ll skip that part. Instead, I’ll just check your wounds and make sure you didn’t add any time to your recovery.”

“His stitches look good,” said a nurse.

“Good, good. That’s the thing we are most concerned about.” He studied the labyrinth of stitches that made up Adrien’s back, prodding and poking as he went. “Sorry, I know this is so uncomfortable. But loose stitches can mean infection and infection with a skin graft like this can lead to necrosis or MRSA.”

“What’s that?” Asked Marinette.

“Necrosis is dead flesh. When the graft has poor blood supply, the skin will turn black and fall off. MRSA is a flesh eating bacteria, which can then lead to necrosis. So it’s very very important that you both follow our instructions.” Then he said a little quieter. “And stop freaking transforming into superheroes.”

Okay, the threat of turning into a zombie with flesh eating bacteria was a little more persuading than just “it’s not good for you.”

“Let’s see here...when you transformed, you forced your drains out, so that has to all be redone. And...” he held his arm out, inspecting the inside of his elbow. “And removing the IV the way you did blew out the vein. So we’ll have to wait until it heals before we can insert another one in this arm.” He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration and a little in exhaustion. “Alright, we’re going to get you settled in here. Please promise me you’re not going to pull anymore stunts, huh? At least not tonight. My wife and son had to pause the movie.”

Adrien looked over to Marinette meaningfully, and then back to the doctor.

“I’ll make sure everyone knows not to move you from this room.” Then he looked at Marinette. “How are you feeling, darling? Anything new? Any symptoms that we talked about?”

“I have another headache. It’s not that bad though.”

“The nurse gave her some ibuprofen at 6:00.” Sabine added.

Dr. Boucher checked his watch. “I’ll let them know you can have some more in an hour. Think you can last that long?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Good,” he breathed. “Then Adrien, let’s get you some tubes.”

Adrien growled.

—

In the morning, Gabriel Agreste arrived at the hospital with a duffel bag over his arm. As he went on his way to ICU, he was stopped by a receptionist.

“Oh, Mr. Agreste?”

He halted, “yes?”

“Adrien was moved to Marinette’s room last night.”

“Last night? I thought he was still a few days away from being moved?”

“He was, but there was...an incident last night.”

Gabriel heaved a disappointed sigh, knowing exactly what happened. “Thank you,” he muttered out as he passed.

Upstairs, Gabriel stormed into the room, to find his son half awake, and looking at Marinette.

Then his gaze shifted to his father.

He had the gaul to look sheepish.

“I’m disappointed in you.” Gabriel shook his head. “You promised me.”

Adrien looked away, towards Marinette. Perhaps for reassurance.

“How am I suppose to trust you, if the first thing you do is disobey me?”

“Gabriel,” Sabine snapped. “He’s already been chastised. He knows what he did was wrong.”

“Does he? Does he know that he was being selfish and stupid?”

“You can’t get mad at him for being irrational.” Sabine stated, calm as she could.

“Irrational? My son doesn’t do irrational! Dramatic, yes. Emotional, yes. But not irrational. He knows better. And he knows how his behavior reflects on me.”

Sabine balled up a fist. “Have you ever seen Bambi?”

“What? What does that have to do with this?”

“Have you seen it?” Her voice took an edge.

“Yes?”

“Do you remember the little bunny? Thumper?”

“What about him?”

“He has this line: ‘If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.’”

He huffed. “Excuse me? Are you trying to use the philosophy of a child’s movie on me?”

“If you insist on acting like a child, then yes. I will.”

Adrien and Marinette watched with concern as the argument escalated, the insults being tossed back and forth like a volley at a tennis match.

“Childish? Trying to raise my child is childish?! Sabine, he’s dangerous! To himself and other people!”

“That’s a real joke coming from you.”

“As if I had anything to do with this!”

“Keep running your mouth, and I’ll tell them what you did!” Her voice escalated. “And trust!? Really?! You can’t trust him, but you expect him to trust you!?”

He sneered at her. “Sabine, I didn’t say a word when your child recklessly transformed. I’m not trying to tell you how to raise your child, so don’t try to tell me how to raise mine!”

Tom stood from where he was sitting. Not a man to be prone to a temper unless it had to do with his daughter, he had let his wife duke it out with Gabriel. But this left him alone to notice the first of the tears.

He hurried over to Adrien, and very carefully embraced him into a hug.

“What are you doing?! Don’t touch him!”

Tom ignored him and petted the top of Adrien’s head. “Hey son, it’s okay. It’s okay, he’s just scared. It’s okay.”

Son.

Adrien relaxed into Tom’s hold, feeling safe and secure.

“Don’t coddle him! This behavior is appalling!”

“That’s enough.” Plagg’s voice boomed, shaking the room with a slight tremor. Everyone went silent as the kwami approached Gabriel. “You took five steps forward and six steps back, you low life.”

“Now you’re going to lecture me too?”

“No, Gabriel. I don’t lecture. I threaten. I will constantly give you second chances, only for Adrien’s benefit. But if you keep treating him like this, getting rid of you will be to his benefit. Do I make myself clear?”

Gabriel breathed slowly. “I understand.”

“Gabriel,” Sabine spoke firmly, but more gentle than she just had. “Don’t you remember what Dr. Boucher said? We won’t recognize our children. Maybe irrational is what Adrien is now. You need to learn that, and accept it. The sooner you do, the sooner that will stop.”

“Salo talked to him like that,” Marinette spoke. Her hands fisted the blankets. “She belittled us. Told us we were a disappointment. That we were wrong. We were bad.”

She swallowed harshly, tears pricking at her eyes. “If…if the first decisions we were able to make for ourselves were bad…maybe she was right.”

“Oh honey no…” Sabine breathed.

“Gabriel, you shit-stain, you tell them right this instant that didn’t mean it!” Plagg yowled.

Gabriel shook his head and came to stand between the two beds. He reached out both hands to touch them. “I’m sorry.”

Plagg was kind of speechless. He didn’t think that would actually work.

“I gave Adrien his ring back. I knew he wouldn’t be able to handle the temptation…I’m more disappointed in myself for being optimistic.”

Marinette snapped her hand away from him. “Only you could make an apology sound so condescending.”

He pinched his nose. “You know what? I think I’m just going to leave. I’ll listen to that rabbit and keep my mouth shut. Apparently, I’m the bad guy here.”

“You are.” Sabine reminded. “So get it together.”

Gabriel dropped the duffle bag onto a chair and left, taking the coldness of the room with him.    

[loki-the-trikster-god]

lovely...friend...*dies* ur so nice ahhhh

asdfhjk in case u couldn’t tell, it’s clyde hehe

oh right caliban is the one that always lived on the island right? that makes more sense nowwwwwww. that... would be so cool to see. i’m looking forward to potentially seeing ur performance even more now (no pressure seriously i’m sure it’ll be amazing)

haha i like it when ppl are nerds with me i’m so sick of being the only nerd (other than one of my friends whose even more of a theatre nerd than i am, i’d introduce u but she doesn’t have a tumblr unfortunately, u guys would really get along)

haha sleep is overrated anyways. yes i love the fantastic beasts movies. apparently the fandom doesn’t really like them that much idk why newt is like the biggest cinnamon roll of all time and i love him so much

i also googled jude law and... let’s say ur attraction is definitely justified

special...clyde...thing...*melts into a puddle* honestly i love that so much.

i definitely feel the warmth, i love nicknames sadly my actual name is drastically unoriginal so nobody really nicknames me.

haha good hospitals bad although i’ve never really been in one since my sister was born (like nine years ago so i don’t remember that). haha yeah i rock climb (but i literally struggle with doing a push up soooo) and my mom says i’m good at swimming but i don’t drown so i guess i’m decent at it lol.

hehe hopefully u get better amigo :)

ooh yay i would love to read ur writing

i write too, but it’s not that good and i am very unmotivated so i have a lot of unfinished projects hehe.

i will become a famous author someday... someday

sigh

YES i love letters tbh it’s like a little piece of someone you can re read and it’ll have the same energy each time.

i’m glad u like it, i love loki he’s like one of my favourite marvel characters ever. and totally there with u on the tom hiddleston gender envy thing. he’s pretty

yeahhhhhh i’ve gotten crap for being clingy. thankfully i don’t like people enough to be clingy with people that wouldn’t like it. my friends find it endearing thankfully :)

ahhhhh yeah. only seven people in the play? cool. did you know the percy jackson musical had like only 10 people (or less) in the original cast? there were a lot of multiple roles, and extreme voice flexibility it’s so cool

not to mention it’s freaking hilarious

ah not liking infinity war and endgame is understandable, it’s a lot of action. i liked infinity war even though it made me cry (twice). it was rather intense tbh. not as intense as civil war though. i kept defending bucky throughout that, which irritated my dad a lot. endgame was good, aside from the fact that the ruined everyone’s hair! the hair is sometime i’m always sensitive about for some reason idk why. it just bothers me. probably why i relate to keefe so much. nice movie choices. i like... idk they are all pretty good tbh. i like doctor strange, but mostly because he’s benedict cumberbatch and sherlock is my favourite ever.

haha ur not thattttt judgy i think just very vocal about ur opinions unlike most people.

gasp i’m glad my ramble shelf is so pretty. sometimes i refer to my brain as a black hole, nothing can escape it except for u know the most useful information that i might actually need to use sigh. but seashells are so pretty yay.

friendly neighborhood dumpster fire lol. we laugh but it’s an accurate description of tumblr. like have u seen the grishaverse fandom? and their horse clown freddy carter it’s hilarious but also makes me concerned about all of our mental states.

neighbour is one of those weird words hehe

cursing? doesn’t really bother me. u do u amigo.

now for the question: do you like musicals? or just plays? or both?

thank you friend, i really enjoy talking to u :)

until next time friend :)

also side note: ur bio said u were a demiboy right, he/they pronouns? so i guess u could be a...

non-BOY-nary

i know i’m hilarious, right

it’s not that funny it’s actually like so bad but i made myself laugh randomly when i thought of this sooooo plz don’t hate me hehe

Morning, Clyde!! Always a pleasure :)

Yeah, caliban’s the one who’s mother is a witch and stays on the island. He’s actually a really sad character cause he has to stay on the island alone, and he doesn’t get forgiven and everyone’s just abusive towards him but he’s not allowed to do anything about it. It’s very intense to act, and it’s especially weird if your costars aren’t giving you much *glares at prospero* (I hate that actor rip.) anyways. You’ll see for yourself, anyhow, because if I get a chance I’ll post the full show. It should be done mid-May?

But yeah my god I’m SUCH a nerd and people that talk in-depth about their interests to me are absolutely just 🥰🥰. Aww I wish I could meet ur friend maybe some day I’ll be able to!

The fantastic beast movies are actually so good!! They’re really creative and they’re a part of thst world that the original books didn’t have at all, which is fascinating. Newt is adorable all the girls kick ass, it’s just Hecking good.

*siiigh* jude law,,,,,,

Aww everyone deserves nicknames!!!!! Special little personal nicknames my beloved,,,, they’re literally the purest form of friendship in my humble opinion 😌

Fun fact: I am incapable of swimming. I cannot put my head underwater. I’ve never been able to and I don’t think I ever will. I love the ocean but I hate pools, because there’s nothing to do if you are a coward like me and can’t swim lmao.

Rock climbing is crazy fun though, I went with my friends on a big trip two years ago and got to feel strong for a bit lmaooo

Oh god I can Never finish a wip. I don’t tend to stress over it, since the more I do the less I write, but mannnn,,,,, anyways I’ll find something I want you to read and send it soon!

You WILL be a famous author, and I will be like I KNOW HIM!!!!! And be so proud :)

Loki is immensely relatable. Cause problems on purpose king. I cannot wait to pirate watch the new loki show!!!!!!!!

I find you endearing, I think you’re super sweet!!!!

That’s very cool,,,, I’ve heard a lot of good things abt the Percy Jackson musical I’ll have to get on watching it lol

God I had SUCH a Sherlock phase it was my LIFE. It’s still a phenomenal show no matter what people say (yes the vibes are v different from the original but they’re different stories and that’s ok)

And I also liked doctor strange and Spider-Man homecoming. I knew I had forgotten some when I was making the list last time.

As for infinity war and endgame, once again it’s a personal taste thing. I’m very particular about how I like a story’s plot, so it bothered me that infinity war was essentially three hours of the first third of a movie. Don’t get me wrong, I cried, and then got irritated when I criticized it and all my friends went awww ur just mad that it got u like no that isn’t it I just wish I felt like my crying was justified. Like it was this really weird feeling cause for the character moments I was all in and then the action was kinda boring and because I can’t focus to save my life I was sorta snapping in and out and it made me ucomfy. But anyways. Good moments in both movies. I also just wasnt like,,,, a huge marvel fan before I watched them and you kind of need to be in love with the story to watch *that* much of it.

It’s true I’m Very loud about my Ideas™️ and I am glad it doesn’t bother you. :))))))

That’s so relatable I can never remember anything it’s so annoying. I’m trying really hard it just goes scHWOOP and it’s gone. Rip me. That being said, if I ever forget something abt u and say smthn dumb, please don’t think it’s for lack of attention. I’m listening and trying brain just doesn’t like me.

I do,,,,, not know what the grishaverse is. I don’t know most of the main tumblr things, which is honestly how I survive tbh. It sounds ridiculous, though. I also never watched supernatural, although I know a lot of the basic stuff abt it.

Neighbor is weird and I also just can’t spell. Neighbour? It looks cooler that way but I know it’s wrong. If I didn’t have autocorrect on I’d be unintelligible lmaooo.

Also I’m glad my cursing doesn’t bother you. I use it mostly for humor but frankly, nothing captures the energy that “bitch.” Does.

I like musicals a lot, I had a very large musical phase and now I have every musical ever memorized lol. I like plays but only good plays, so a lot of them are too boring for me. I was forced to read Our Town and Three Sisters and I just about lost it. As you know I’m obsessed with shakespeare and I like comedies a lot. But yes musicals are also a big vibe. Get me going on Andrew Lloyd Webber, I dare you. /j

NON-BOY-NARY!!!! I’m changing my bio. This is important.

Oh, friend, you made me laugh.

Until next time, bro!

[katahnisharma]

the press tour [11 pt. 1] | t.h.

Word Count: 1.9 K 

Warnings: Because Claire @neverlandparker​ is a cutie and gave me the idea of splitting up chapter 11 into two parts, the second part will be out Tuesday!

Summary: You’re a new, inexperienced actress plucked from the obscurity of everyday life to play the lead in the reboot of a famous British Jane Austen novel, and Tom Holland just so happens to be playing your love interest.

A/N: This is a little shorter but I wanted to get into Tom’s head a little and have you guys understand him a bit :) I’m a little down so if you could just tell my if you liked this or legit even hated it I’d love the feedback! Also Tumblr apparently won’t let me link things so if you’re looking for my masterlist, playlist, taglist, or writing challenge it’s in my bio ♡

“Haz, I would come to the pub quiz, but we just went on a double date and I don’t really want to spend anymore time with him. It bothers Adrian.” You were on the phone with Harrison the Saturday after the date, which had ended as awkwardly as it began. After Tom and Adrian came back from the bathroom, you could tell they had fought over something. Tom wouldn’t look at you the rest of the time, and he barely said two words. Adrian kept a possessive hand on your thigh, which only made you uneasy. Zendaya, though she gave it her best effort, couldn’t salvage the night.

You were so relieved when it was over.

“Ah yes, the dinner date from hell. How was it? Tom wouldn’t say much about it.” Harrison laughed, shooing Monty away from his feet. You were in LA and he was in London, but he’d been trying to get you to visit for weeks now. You knew you couldn’t keep putting it off.

“It was terrible, the whole thing was so awkward. Poor Z tried to make it work, but Tom wasn’t having it. He and Adrian were in the bathroom together for a while so I know something went down, but Adrian won’t tell me anything. Of course, it’s obvious he has a problem with Tom and I just can’t handle the stress.” You whined, collapsing on your couch and avoiding Bailey’s piles of paper everywhere. She’d been in the process of a massive reorganization and your house looked like a bomb had gone off.

“See, this is why you need to get away. Just come over for the weekend, let Adrian sort himself out. It’ll be fun, I promise. And Charlotte misses you, she says you’re more fun than Tom and I.” Harrison pleaded, his voice dropping a bit when Tom came into the room. He raised an eyebrow at Harrison and mouthed Who’s that?.

“You know, I’m going to regret this. But fine, I’ll come this weekend. I need a vacation, even if staying with you is more like being your maid.” You sighed, getting up to go pack. Tom sat next to Harrison and pretended like he was on his phone, but he was really trying to listen in on the conversation. The voice on the other end sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

“Great, everyone will be so happy! Monty is excited, I can already tell. Fly out tonight and I’ll come pick you up at the airport. And don’t worry, I’ll leave you-know-who behind.”  whispered, shoving Tom away who was trying to listen in. You chuckled and found your suitcase behind your closet, taking it out and checking to make sure it was big enough.

“Thanks Haz, I’ll see you soon.” You hung up and started folding clothes to take, texting Bailey to let her know you’d be leaving and to tell Adrian. It had been weird between you two after the date, and you knew it should have been you telling him but you didn’t want to deal with the fallout. Bailey would be able to talk him down.

“Who was that?” Tom asked, trying to be nonchalant about it. Harrison rolled his eyes, knowing that he was secretly curious, but he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to tell him about you. Tom would definitely not be calm about it.

But then again, you were going to be here in a couple of hours.

“Um, it was Y/N. She’s coming here for the weekend.” Harrison said, ignoring Tom’s open mouth. Tom felt his heart drop and race simultaneously, not sure how he was going to handle seeing you. What was he going to do, just avoid you the entire time to ignore his feelings? Tom hadn’t spoken to Zendaya in days, and even she knew the reason why.

“Oh, um, that’s cool. Cool, yeah, you know….Y/N’s cool. Great, I’m gonna go shower. Maybe...uh...I can come with you to the airport?” Tom stuttered, trying to hide his nerves. Harrison wanted to laugh, but restrained himself.

“If you want? I mean, just don’t do anything stupid please.” Harrison said, getting up to change. Tom nodded silently, his mind racing with all the things he had to do to get ready. He’d need to shave, change his clothes, appear like he wasn’t a nervous wreck. Appear like he was over you, when he’d fallen deeper. It was like fighting his heart, and Tom was losing

Shit, why did you have to come and make everything difficult?

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“This has to be the stupidest thing you’ve done in a while” Bailey was quick to give you her opinion while you were packing, and part of you knew she was right.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

“Okay, thank you. Love that you’re so concerned, but I’ll be fine. If Tom is there, I’m just gonna ignore him.” You said, zipping up your bag. There wasn’t much to take for the weekend, and you never packed much to begin with. Bailey opened her mouth to say something, but changed her mind at the last minute.

“Alright, everything’s done. My flight is in an hour and a half, so I’m gonna head out now. You’ll be okay alone, right?” You teased, watching her roll her eyes with a smile.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m a big girl, I think I can take care of myself. Keep me updated, okay? And if it gets too weird, just come home. Harrison will just have to deal with Tom on his own.” Bailey replied, helping you carry your purse downstairs.

“Seriously, what’s the worst that can happen? He tries to kiss me or something, which we both know will NEVER happen. We both don’t like each other, Tom will stay away from me I can guarantee it.” You said, waving to the driver outside and giving Bailey a quick hug. She squeezed you a little, watching you get into the car.

“Did you tell Adrian?” She called from the door, and you froze for a minute. You had not, in fact, told your boyfriend you were leaving for the weekend. To spend it in London with a friend that wasn’t a girl and his apparent enemy. You hadn’t even told him you were free for the weekend.

Well, too late now.

“Yeah, of course.” You lied, watching her relax a little. She waved from the door as the car pulled away, and you sat back in your seat as the driver kept his eyes on the road.

You really should have told Adrian.

“Mate, you didn’t need to get all dressed up for her. She’s got a boyfriend.” Harrison sniggered when Tom came out looking very dressed up. It was something he’d worn to Jimmy Kimmel once, and Harrison could see Tom’s face burn at his words.

“Shut up, it’s not that fancy. I know she’s got a boyfriend, he threatened me in the bathroom last week.” Tom grumbled, taking his phone from the table. Harrison quirked an eyebrow, but he didn’t push it. This was the first he was hearing about an actual confrontation from Tom, but he wouldn’t have put it past Adrian. He didn’t much like your boyfriend either.

“Can I ask you something?” Harrison ventured, testing the waters a little. Tom rolled his eyes, putting on his shoes by the door.

“Can I even stop you?” He groaned, standing up and crossing his arms. Harrison got his keys from the couch and moved closer, studying Tom’s face.

It was nervous, he knew what Harrison was going to ask.

“Are you in love with her?”

Tom’s eyes widened a little, but not enough to indicate he was surprised by the question. He had to have known it was coming. He looked down quickly, but Harrison caught the sight of his eyes watering a little. For a moment it was radio silence, and Harrison thought he wouldn’t answer. The tears spilled out of Tom’s eyes.

“What does it matter if I am?” Tom’s voice was quiet, like he was struggling to get it out. He knew that once he said those words, he was truly fucked. Harrison knew that too, which was why he wasn’t prepared for what Tom said next.

“I love her, Haz. And I don’t know how to stop.” Tom wiped his eyes, feeling his resolve crumble. All the days he spent telling himself to get over you, because he was the one who ruined everything. Tom had only half believed the lie, and now that the words had materialized in front of him it washed over him like a wave. The pain, the heartbreak, the intense pining and longing for someone he couldn’t have.

Because you weren’t his to want. You wanted nothing to do with him.

“I don’t think love works like that. You just have to let it go, Tom.” Harrison was startled when Tom hugged him, feeling him shudder a little. He’d known all along, that you had taken a part of him. It was so easy to see, the way you made him feel. Harrison remembered how excited Tom had been when you said yes to the date, the way he talked about you and how his eyes lit up.

Where had it all gone wrong?

“If I see her, I might lose my mind. I’ve been beating myself up over what happened, and it hurts even thinking about it. I thought if I stayed away, remembered what that prick told me, it would go away. Why does it hurt so much?” Tom cried, wetting Harrison’s shirt slightly. Harrison let him cry for a few minutes, knowing Tom would feel better after. He didn’t know what to say or do, he had yet to be in love. But this wasn’t like anything Harrison had seen before, Tom had never been this way.

What he felt was real, it was vulnerable and raw. And you meant more to him than he’d thought.

“Tom? I’m going to say something and I want you to listen.” Harrison said, and Tom broke away rubbing at his eyes.

“You need to tell her how you feel, before it’s too late. Tell her everything, or you’re gonna lose her forever.” Harrison put a hand on Tom’s shoulder, passing him to get to the door. Tom stood still, staring ahead at the wall.

“What if she still hates me? Or she’s in love with Adrian?” Tom’s voice cracked, not wanting to turn around and face his best friend. Because he knew what Harrison would say, and it frightened him.

“You have to make up your mind, Tom. Either you want her or you don’t. But you’re gonna have to fight for Y/N, she deserves a lot. And if you really love her, then you’ll sober up and join the battle. It’s your call.” Harrison sighed, opening the door and leaving Tom alone in the living room. Tom took a deep breath and closed his eyes, your face being the first thing he saw. It had been the only thing he’d seen for weeks at night.

Tom knew what he had to do. He was scared, but it was clear to him.

He had to win you back before it was too late.

TAGLIST (let me know if you want to be taken off!): @tommyparkerr @grandmascottlang @toms-order @darling-parker @spiderboythomas @cutiehollands @peeterparkr @jupiterparker @inlovewithmob-tom @veronicas-littleworld @da5haexowin @sergeantbxrnxs @hazsterfield @itsholyholland @underoosstark @stormyholland @let-me-luve-you @smexylemony @roses-and-sweaters @musicgirl234 @its-livelovelife @steve-thotgers @tiny-friggin-human @lovelyh0lland @blueberry-butterscotch @keylla-dunspeh @lucille-lovely @yeahbutmarvel @lokiislowkeyhot @spideymood @yoharryyouawizard @tomhollanders2013 @celestialparker @letthembehappymcu @jnej @spiderman-n @positiveparker @winterssoldierrs @heycreehere @galaxy-parker @sdrecsfics @doimakeitthroughthenight @wronglanemendes @brokensimpson @naikia @spnsoap @ninetypoundsofasthma @quitetommy @voltronshepard @marvelismylife @iluvemesomemarvelndc @annathesillyfriend @tiredfeels @scarlet-spiderr @hedwigthelegend @renesniajazza @bibliophile-grasshopp @tomhollandswhore @yeeterbenjaminparker @juliabuenooo @paradoxparker @pokeloisfk @machomango13 @nobledoritoman @cosmicdaya @hey-its-grey @toms-gf @cutesparker @whypeterparkerwhy @sunshinehollandd @sunshineandparker @starksparker @hollandroos @blissfulparker @xxtomxo @pastelpeter @nnatasha @parkerpuff @hollandsosterfield @hauntedhillsnholland @hopespym @peterstrainingwheels @stuckonspidey @jacobsbatalon @prkerspeter @spideypeach @spxderbarnes @stealth-spiderr @uglypastels @darlingtholland @spideyflicker @thollandss @marvelous-maddi @trustfundparker @clockblobber @asmilinghopelessromantic @i-dont-wanna-go-mr-stark @marvel-language @zaynjawy @sholla4-314 @lemondropirwin @angelbabymed @in-the-corner-coffee-please @peterbparkcr @william-stanley @greenarrowhead @squishyhyunjin @starz-23 @spoopy-spooderman @whatevsholland @aestheticstom @tomzfrog @bebegomie @tyemmamarvel @embrace-themagic @v-valz-n @peterparkersspookyguard @strangertingle @dancingoncrackedhearts @imspiderparker96 @mlt2000 @cordiebirdy @headsup-itsmostlypeter @sspideytom @yellow-inlove @kisses-holland @hardestbattles-strongestsoldiers @infamousmany @omgbstudies @theefactorygirl @aelinashryvver @sarah-moss2015 @honeybucks @fandomdarlings @yourwonderbelle @rexorangecouny @deni-gonzalez @mylifeasafangirlforever @random-writer06 @stretchkingblog97 @sweetlyth @notethereal @pachuh @fandoms-stuff @petesrparker @yavinmoon @sweet-baby-cakes @noswagswag @l-melancholy-breeze-l @peteunderoos @jubaydahk @jackiehollanderr @yadekms @starkslovebot @practicallylivesonline @i-tried21 @stasye @unorganizedasf @1-800-back-off @tomshufflepuff @beequeen8020 @mejustbeingme @fanboy-tom @mimaligrl @theimpossiblehologramtree @diamonddia-mond @qrangr @parkeroffline @peterpumpkinparker @rosieredcheeks @delicately-important-trash @zabdisamor @peterbrokenparker @the-lost-fairy-tale @everestluke @gigilame @youllbemineandillbeyours @cherryblossomcharlotte @paintingbellarke @teawithbucky @miraclesoflove @tomhaz @multi-worlds @clara-licht @ppkrtingle @laurxn-robinson @a-court-of-dreams-and-hopes @theirmidgardian @screamsbytom @lulueliott24 @lostinspidey @starlightparker @screamstillscreaming @ddaeing @ineedalittlehappiness @briiiiseyda @sincerelymlg @officiallygeek @maybemona​ @learning-howto-be-myselfx3​ @lowkey-holland​ @particularsof​ @saturn-aka-six​ @elysianparker​ @i-love-peter-paker-3000 @fangirlingisajob​ @hypnotized-so-mesmerized​ @parker-peter​ @deathofthethrones​ @th0ttie4tommy​ @orowit​ @lauras-collection​ @itseightbeats @thomasholyholland​ @h-oneyholland​ @softboyparkerr​ @definitely-not-black-cat​ @spdys​ @wazzupmrstark​ @angelsparkers​ @farfromhaz​ @pastelpeter​ @plushparker​ @princepeteys​ @afterglowparker​ @screamholland​ @autumnlyholland​

The Press Tour Taglist: @notes-from-my-journal @mcuspidey @musicandbokkslovingweirdo @kaylzjordan @puffedgill @loki-in-hogwarts @mutuallynotmutual @psycho-mocha @evolutionofkatep @ciannemar83 @eridanuswave @sltwins @grandfunnyemopainter @kidensdouble88 @bonitajuanita @kthemarsian @ollieologys @avngrsinitiative @hannah-olivia @dans2k19 @saysomethingspiderman @strang-ersclub @ad-iuficium @fairytaleparker @neverlandparker @shawnssongs @xoluvx @violet-lilyy @itsjstz @dickgraysonnsworld @a-phan-of-youtube @webshoot3r @ihopeyousteponarosepetal @martinafigoli @ketchuplukehemmo @storiesnroses @the-royal-brown-barbie @babebenhardy @teasemeimeasy @janieavalos @maybeonedayican @peruvian-bae @kathillyard @lost-in-translating @lawstudentbydayfangirlbynight @ballyhoobarnes @gabiatthedisco @one-big-fan-girl @rosebeegraham @shirukitsune @florencxs @mmyepic​ @baby-unidorn​ @imahoefortomholland​ @spidxrparkxr​ @brown-eyed-brunettes​ @secretlittlewonders​ @peterporkpie​ @notevenlxvely​ @i-love-peter-b-parker-3000 

[sserpente]

It had been two months now since Loki had randomly crashed into your garden and into your life. The God of Mischief had landed right on top of your now destroyed salad plants. You would have been upset if, and now that was the odd part, you didn’t know that Loki wasn’t but most importantly one thing: namely fictional.

A/N: So many of you wanted Loki to end up with the Reader after he escapes with the Tesseract. Well, I decided to spice things up a bit. Besides, I got very inspired at the Prater in Vienna two weeks ago.

Words: 1946 Warnings: fluff, AVENGERS ENDGAME SPOILERS

“Tell me again why we are doing this in the singeing heat?” Loki remarked sarcastically when you entered the amusement park. You let out a relieved breath, stepping into the shadow of the nearby information counter and pulled out two full water bottles from your rucksack, one of which you handed to Loki. He took it greedily, drinking up almost half of it right away.

You blinked, paralysed for a moment as you watched his thin lips closing around it. He was gulping so thirstily you could see his Adam’s apple bop with very sip. He really was outrageously handsome.

It had been two months now since Loki had randomly crashed into your garden and into your life. The God of Mischief had landed right on top of your now destroyed salad plants. You would have been upset if, and now that was the odd part, you didn’t know that Loki wasn’t but most importantly one thing: namely fictional.

It all made sense though, no? You had seen Avengers Endgame. Loki had snuffled the Tesseract and disappeared into a different dimension. And this dimension just so happened to be yours, in which the MCU was no more but a collection of fictional stories.

Naturally, the look on Loki’s face had been priceless when you told him things about his life not even Frigga knew… but eventually, he built something like trust. You were not quite sure whether it was the fact you had a Loki pillow you slept on every night or simply that you had told him that he was your favourite character and that you understood him in a way Thor never would. The latter you had said not only because it was the truth but also because he had intimidated and scared you a little when he first entered your house.

Then… you had ended up befriending him, a fictional character that happened to be not so fictional after all; and even… even beginning to fall in love with him. That was the confusing bit. Was he really? Real? What if you woke up one day and he had simply disappeared? While he had confirmed to you almost insulted he was indeed very real, another concern remained. What about Tom Hiddleston? They were technically the same person. Loki sure looked like him and he had been pretty amazed when you had told him about his actor’s existence.

Now here you were, introducing Loki to Midgardian life and fun activities so he could take his mind off things and until he had figured out what he’d do next. You dreaded the day he would leave you again, for you doubted he would consider taking you with him—so you enjoyed and cherished it for as long as it was going to last.

“We can go swimming after. But this is the last day the amusement park is in town. It’s fun, you’ll love it.”

“That is what you said when you made me try raw fish wrapped in dry seaweed.” He complained.

“Sushi. It’s called sushi. Come on, let’s go and do a rollercoaster first!” Excitedly, you pointed at one of the metal constructions. Loki slowly shook his head when he spotted it, watching one of the carriages go by with people inside screaming.

“Absolutely not. You go, I shall hold your bag for you.”

 -

But you tried. You really tried. Every ride you got on, you attempted to convince him to join you but Loki was stubborn. At some point, you even wondered if maybe he was afraid of heights but that he had almost rudely dismissed.

You were about to give up when you spotted the ghost train on the right hand side—eerie skeletons hanging out of broken windows and a pair of yellow glowing eyes looking through an open door leading to a pitch-black cabin… and a terrifying laughter coming from inside the haunted house.

Confidently, you reached for his hand and dragged him towards it. But Loki would not move an inch. Instead, his blue eyes were fixed on something else entirely. Confused, he tilted his head. There was a girl queuing up for one of those scary sling shot rides—nothing special about her, really. But one thing caught his attention. She was carrying a Loki backpack.

You doubted it would be a good idea for him to simply walk over and say hello—and even though you felt rather proud your words proved to be true and Loki indeed had an army in this dimension, you somehow wanted to have the God of Mischief all to yourself.

“A most peculiar piece of luggage.” Loki noted, studying the golden horns attached to the green backpack. “I rather like it. Not as much as your collection of ‘t-shirts’ but it pleases me. Just how…” He trailed off, making you frown.

“How what?”

Loki smirked. A bitter smirk, failing to hide the pain burning in his heart. “It still feels much unusual to have… genuine supporters.”

That it did and it broke your heart he felt such incredulity about it.

“You have no idea, Trickster. I’m gonna have to introduce you to Tumblr sometime…” You mumbled.

“Whatever that is…” He replied, turning back to you as if he wanted to forget his thoughts and concerns. “What next?”

“Will you at least do the ghost train with me?” You asked, pointing at the haunted house.

“Define that.”

“You sit in a carriage that’s slowly moving in the dark and there’s creepy things installed jumping out to scare you.”

“That sounds absurd.”

“Pretty please? We can get some candy after.” You tempted him. Loki raised his brows. Now you had him. He really was a sweet tooth, this much you had found out already. His favourite was chocolate of course—all kinds of it, really. But you were dying to introduce him to candy floss. Besides, if you got him to join you on the ghost train, you had a legal excuse to cuddle up against him and hide your face in his chest.

Loki sighed. “Very well. But if I am going to regret this, you will pay the price, little mortal.” You knew he was joking. The playful tone in his voice made your heart jump and your knickers grow wet. Swallowing thickly, you approached the counter of the ghost train and purchased two tickets.

Only a few moments later you were both sat in one of the carriages. You jumped when it started to move inside the haunted house with a loud rumbling—and it was then you wrapped your arms around Loki’s middle already.

It was the first time he allowed this much body contact. Loki craved the attention, yet still acted very restrained around you. He chuckled when the first ‘monster’ jumped out from the dark and made you squeal.

“They are puppets.” He stated after two more jumpscares he was seemingly very unimpressed with. “Harmless puppets, darling.” Darling. That nickname alone had been worth it to persuade Loki to do this with you. And then, suddenly… you felt his arm around you, pulling even closer. Never before had you felt this protected and safe.

You were almost disappointed when the ride was over and you both had to climb out of the carriage again once you returned to proper daylight.

“If you are so scared of ghost trains, then why do you pay money for them?”

You shrugged. “That’s the point, really. It’s funny to get scared because you know it’s not real and then you laugh after. It’s fun.”

“Strange little mortal.” He teased playfully. “Now… as for my candy?”

You grinned. “Have you ever heard of candy floss?” Loki shook his head slowly. “It’s… well, you’ll see.”

Excited, you returned to the market stands, one of which also sold candy floss. His eyes soon widened when he spotted the fluffy clouds on sticks displayed in different colours of the rainbow.

“Which colour?”

“Green.”

“I thought so. The flavour will be green apple, is that alright?”

He nodded. Fascinated, he watched how the lady behind the counter made a fresh one for him after you paid her and finally, handed it to him. Greedily, he took it and dug his fingers into the soft sugar mixture. Only the blinking of an eye later, he had already shoved some of it into his mouth.

“So?” You asked with a smirk, reaching for the candy floss to taste it yourself.

“It melts on the tongue… delicious.” And he ate the whole thing in almost no time, throwing the wooden stick into a nearby bin. Well… he was a God. You chuckled.

“I’m glad you liked it.” You only wished he would look at you this longingly.

Maybe one more ride now and then you would take him swimming… it was still boiling hot and you feared you’d come down with a sunburn if you didn’t take a break soon to apply some sunscreen.

“Is that…” Once again, Loki stopped. This time, in front of another stand. A colourful one, with a striped roof reminding you of the circus. Inside, there countless plush toys waiting to be won. Your gaze followed his, causing you to gasp.

“Plush toys! Yes! Of the Avengers! Oh my God… look, they’re so cute! And so big! I want one!”

Loki rolled his eyes playfully. “Well, go and get one then.”

“You can’t buy them, you have to win them by playing the game. I’ll ask if he has a Loki plush toy, too, though.”

“Please…” Loki couldn’t quite decide if he should chuckle or roll his eyes again. He settled for both when you approached the owner of the stand.

“Oh yes!” He heard him say. “You’re lucky. There’s only one left, the Loki ones sell out quickly. But it’s one of the big prizes. You’d have to hit all of the targets to get it.”

Amused, Loki eyed the stand. That was all? Hitting five targets with soft balls? He could do that blindfolded.

“We shall try our luck then,” He tossed in, earning him a bewildered glare from the stand owner. With a little luck he would only think Loki was a really accurate cosplayer. Or he simply didn’t care. Or he hadn’t seen the Marvel movies himself.

Smirking, Loki handed him a fiver from the stack of ‘Midgardian money’, as he called it, and which he seemed to keep in his magical pockets you did not understand the concept of, and confidently reached for the balls in the bowl on the counter. Then, he aimed.

You watched, flabbergasted, amused by his sudden change of heart and somewhat turned on at the very same time as he took no more than forty seconds to get the job done, his muscles flexing in the process. Was it weird you wanted to lick that pale neck? Probably. But probably not.

“Now. The prize?” He mused proudly. You grinned. You doubted that the stand owner had any idea of what had just happened. Grumpily, he hand you the Loki push toy, mumbling something that did not at all sound like “congrats” but more like “fuckers”. You simply ignored him and instead stood on your toes to press a gentle kiss on Loki’s cheek before you took the plush toy with a happy squeal, pressing it to your chest firmly.

“Thank you, Trickster.” Loki smirked in response and winked cheekily.

“You know, as much as I enjoy it, I don’t think I shall ever get used to Midgardians losing their minds over my… what did you call it? ‘Fanmerch’. So… are we going swimming now?”

You giggled, leaning into him. “You really earned it.”

-

A/N: What do you think of this concept, guys? Of Loki being in ‘our’ dimension? Likey? I honestly think I could have a lot of fun with that in the future.

If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! kofi.com/sserpente ♥

[bazz-b]

THE MEGA RP PLOTTING SHEET / MEME.

First and foremost, recall that no one is perfect, we all had witnessed some plotting once which did not went too well, be it because of us or our partner. So here have this, which may help for future plotting. It’s a lot! Yes, but perhaps give your partners some insight? Anyway BOLD what fully applies, italicize if only somewhat.

MUN NAME: Thomas/Tom     AGE: +25       CONTACT: IM, Ask, Discord

CHARACTER(S): Bazz-B, King Baraggan Louisenbairn, Kurosaki Ichigo, Ichibei Hyosube

CURRENT FANDOM(S): Bleach

BLEACH FANDOM(S) YOU HAVE AN AU FOR:  I have an ATLA and LOK AU for Bazz-B, but no Bleach AUs for external muses

MY LANGUAGE(S): Passable Japanese, Survivable Italian, Fluent English

THEMES I’M INTERESTED IN FOR RP: FANTASY / Science fiction / Horror / WESTERN / ROMANCE / Thriller / MYSTERY / DYSTOPIA / ADVENTURE / MODERN / Erotic / Crime / MYTHOLOGY / Classic / HISTORY / RENAISSANCE / MEDIEVAL / Ancient / WAR / FAMILY / POLITICS / RELIGION / SCHOOL / ADULTHOOD / CHILDHOOD / APOCALYPTIC / GODS / Sport / MUSIC / Science / FIGHTS / ANGST / Smut / DRAMA / etc. (what Bazz-B wants is reflected in italics)

PREFERRED THREAD LENGTH: one-liner / 1 para / 2 PARA / 3+ / NOVELLA.

ASKS CAN BE SEND BY: MUTUALS / NON-MUTUALS / PERSONALS / ANONS.

CAN ASKS BE CONTINUED?:   YES / NO    only by Mutuals?:  YES / NO.

PREFERRED THREAD TYPE: CRACK / casual nothing too deep / SERIOUS / DEEP AS HECK.

IS REALISM / RESEARCH IMPORTANT FOR YOU IN CERTAIN THEMES?:   YES / NO.

ARE YOU ATM OPEN FOR NEW PLOTS?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS.

DO YOU HANDLE YOUR DRAFT / ASK - COUNT WELL?:  YES / NO / SOMEWHAT. (usually but I need to catch up at the moment)

HOW LONG DO YOU USUALLY TAKE TO REPLY?: 24H / 1 WEEK / 2 WEEKS / 3+ / months / years. /DEPENDS ON MOOD AND INSPIRATION, AND IF I’M BUSY I

I’M OKAY WITH INTERACTING: ORIGINAL CHARACTERS / a relative of my character (an oc) / duplicates / MY FANDOM / CROSSOVERS / MULTI-MUSES / self-inserts / people with no AU verse for my fandom / CANON-DIVERGENT PORTRAYALS / AU-VERSIONS.

DO YOU POST MORE IC OR OOC?: IC / OOC.

ARE YOU SELECTIVE WITH FOLLOWING OTHERS?: YES / NO / DEPENDS.  

BEST WAYS TO APPROACH YOU FOR RP/PLOTTING:  You can IM me or send an ask, but the tumblr messaging systems SUCK so I encourage y’all to add me on discord and then just go ham. I’ll only turn down a plot if it’s OOC for Bazz-B, but otherwise I’ll usually try anything. If it’s not working out I’ll typically let you know, but I’m game for most things.

WHAT EXPECTATIONS DO YOU HOLD TOWARDS YOUR PLOTTING PARTNER:  Honestly, not a lot. You can be as invested or as chaotic as works for you. You get the urge to suddenly write a specific theme? Hit me with it. The urge goes and you lose interest, that’s fine. Four weeks later and the muse hits you again LETS DO THIS.

WHEN YOU NOTICE THE PLOTTING IS RATHER ONE-SIDED, WHAT DO YOU DO?:  I don’t typically struggle with this issue. If anything, I’m the lackluster end of the plotting side. I typically run things through Bazz-B as their happening, rarely looking forward. Unless there’s an overarching story we’re specifically working towards I’m pretty weak sauce. Sorry people!

HOW DO YOU USUALLY PLOT WITH OTHERS, DO YOU GIVE INPUT OR LEAVE MOST WORK TOWARDS YOUR PARTNER?:  I’ll typically propose an idea and then see where our muses take us. If my partner needs a rough road map, I’m happy to negotiate what we’d each like to see happen. Generally speaking I let Bazz-B take the wheel.

WHEN A PARTNER DROPS THE THREAD, DO YOU WISH TO KNOW?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS. - And why?: If you want to drop a thread, I’m completely fine with it. The only reason I’d want to know is so I don’t start panicking and think that I forgot to reply you your latest response to it.

WHAT COULD POSSIBLY LEAD YOU TO DROP A THREAD?:  If I lose the thread, or if I think it’s reach a natural conclusion. I don’t typically abandon one in the middle on purpose.

- WILL YOU TELL YOUR PARTNER?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS.

IS COMMUNICATION IN THE RPC IMPORTANT TO YOU? YES / NO.

- AND WHY?: I don’t require a constant, nor deep level of communication, but it’s important to voice concerns. People tend to internalize problems until they become these big ordeals. A friendly message every now and again can save everyone a lot of drama later.

ARE YOU OKAY WITH ABSOLUTE HONESTY, EVEN IF IT MAY MEANS HEARING SOMETHING NEGATIVE ABOUT YOU AND/OR PORTRAYAL?: I BEG for negative feedback. Even if you feel like your nitpicking, it’s the number one thing I crave from writing partners. Tell me what you dislike and I can work on it.

DO YOU THINK YOU CAN HANDLE SUCH SITUATION IN A MATURE WAY? YES / NO.

WHY DO YOU RP AGAIN, IS THERE A GOAL?: To tell a story. Bazz-B is my primary muse, and his entire tale is so interesting to me. The foundations of his identity are flawed and I want to explore that as much a I can, throw him into as many situations as possible and watch him evolve.

WISHLIST, BE IT PLOTS OR SCENARIOS:  My left arm for an entire roster of Sternritter, of course. Bazz-B and Liltotto surviving after the war. A reality where Bazz-B finds happiness and acceptance in himself. A healthy bond with a Shinigami. 

THEMES I WON’T EVER RP / EXPLORE:   I’ll not write rape, it’s understandably triggering for a lot of people and writing it glorifies it, I think. Also racism in a real world setting? I’ve come to terms with it in regards to Shinigami and Arrancar, but they’re fictional groups. I wont engage with it outside of that. Finally, trans-phobia. If a guy like Bazz-B doesn’t engage with that sort of vile nonsense, none of you should either.

WHAT TYPE OF STARTERS DO YOU PREFER / DISLIKE, CAN’T WORK WITH?: Starters that provide a setting and a purpose are great. The sort of starter that turns it back at the recipient with something akin to “Why are you here” are confining. Also, if in the starter your muse is already pushing away mine.. Bazz-B might just nope outta there.

WHAT TYPE OF CHARACTERS CATCH YOUR INTEREST THE MOST?:  Despite my main muse being Bazz-B (or perhaps in favour of it) I typically write as old men cemented deeply in their ways. Yamamoto Genryuusai Shigekuni, King Baraggan Louisenbairn and Ichibei Hyosube are just some examples. Bazz-B kinda fits the bill too.. I GUESS.

WHAT TYPE OF CHARACTERS CATCH YOUR INTEREST THE LEAST?:  Cold, distant, dispassionate sorts. I could never write as the likes of Ishida, Ulquiorra, Haschwalth, etc. They’re all very nuanced characters, they just don’t mesh well with me. 

WHAT ARE YOUR STRONG ASPECTS AS RP PARTNER?: I typically respond lightning fast, my last two weeks or so a poor example of that. I’m passionate, you’ll not find another person so desperately in love with Bazz-B as this fool. I’m easy-going, you can take as long as you want and I’ll still be ready to rumble.

WHAT ARE YOUR WEAK ASPECTS AS RP PARTNER?: Tumblr confuses the hell out of me, I don’t understand a lot of lingo and the big CARDINAL LAWS of writing. I struggle with scene transitioning and limb placement, and my tags are a mess.

DO YOU RP SMUT?:  YES / NO/ DEPENDS.

DO YOU PREFER TO GO INTO DETAIL?: YES / NO / DEPENDS.

ARE YOU OKAY WITH BLACK CURTAIN?: YES / NO.

- WHEN DO YOU RP SMUT? MORE OUT OF FUN OR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT?:  What I want and what Bazz-B want are wildly different things. This man is planting a flag in the middle of bonezone whether I agree or not. I commonly write smut because it’s what Bazz-B wants, but I prefer to do it for development.

- ANYTHING YOU WOULD NOT WANT TO RP THERE?:  I am personally the most vanilla dude you’ll meet. I can google things but it might not translate very well.

ARE SHIPS IMPORTANT TO YOU?:   YES / NO A characters growth should never be locked to a specific person, but exploring a character in isolation can only get you so far. As people, we grow from one another. Romance is a key factor in formulating a person’s ideals, but that’s no the only form of ship. The eventual friendship between Bazz-B and Liltotto and Giselle is one of the most interesting things to me. A romance surviving Silbern is incredibly powerful in my opinion. The bond of a teacher and a student. There are so many situations that force a character to change how they would typically react.

WOULD YOU SAY YOUR BLOG IS SHIP-FOCUSED?:  YES / NO. More and more I’ve been thinking that I’ve been writing Bazz-B in more ships, but that is not the blog’s focus. Ultimately I’m exploring the character of Bazz-B, and that just happens to be inclusive of ships. Some of my most active writing partners also happen to be muses that Bazz-B has excitedly/begrudgingly/unexpectedly fallen for.

DO YOU USE READ MORE?:  YES / NO / SOMETIMES WHEN I WRITE LONG STUFF.

ARE YOU:  MULTI-SHIP / Single-Ship / Dual-Ship  —  MULTIVERSE / Singleverse.

 - WHAT DO YOU LOVE TO EXPLORE THE MOST IN YOUR SHIPS?: Individuals who challenge Bazz-B, who force him to rise above what he is, what he thinks he should be. Who tear down complacency and demand better of him in all ways. Whether overtly, intentionally, whatever! 

ARE YOU OKAY WITH PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIPS?: YES / NO. - If you come to me and sell me a story, I’m in. I’m easily swayed by visual art, written lyrics (my ears don’t work so good with music for some reason) and themes.

► SECTION ABOUT YOUR MUSE.

- WHAT COULD POSSIBLY MAKE YOUR MUSE INTERESTING TOWARDS OTHERS, WHY SHOULD THEY RP WITH THIS PARTICULAR CHARACTER OF YOURS NOW, WHAT POSSIBLE PLOTS DO THEY OFFER?: Bazz-B is a fun guy to taunt, and to cause havoc with. But he’s more than just a hothead, you can read any one of my many rants if you wanna find out about that. With a plot to kill God spanning 1000 years, a burning fury and misguided ideals dragged through the mud of “the lesser of two evils”, he’s a real party trick.

- WITH WHAT TYPE OF MUSES DO YOU USUALLY STRUGGLE TO RP WITH?:  Muses who, from the start, wish to disengage with Bazz-B. I understand it might be in character, but both Bazz-B and I are gonna struggle to engage if there’s not some allowances made.

- WHAT DO THEY DESIRE, IS THEIR GOAL?:  His ultimate goal is the death of Yhwach. In a perfect world that would coexist with a Quincy victory over the Shinigami, vengeance for genocide. But he’ll take the former over the latter.

- WHAT CATCHES THEIR INTEREST FIRST WHEN MEETING SOMEONE NEW?:  Style, first and foremost. If a Quincy had modified their Wandenreich uniform he’s gonna take notice and make some judgement calls. The rest comes after.

- WHAT DO THEY VALUE IN A PERSON?:  Honesty to themselves, and a drive to survive. Not to be buried by what’s expected of them, or what they should do. Free will is one of the fundamental truths of the world.

- WHAT THEMES DO THEY LIKE TALKING ABOUT?:  Motorbikes, Pop-culture, Fashion, Movies, Himself.

- WHICH THEMES BORE THEM?:  History, loyalty beyond all else, the importance of leadership and hierarchy, lectures of all kinds.

- DID THEY EVER WENT THROUGH SOMETHING TRAUMATIC?:  His family was burned alive by the man who claimed to be their God. Entering a war on the losing side, his kind facing extinction. Hiding in the shadows, surrounded by a extremist military cult.

- WHAT COULD LEAD TO AN INSTANT KILL?:  After a certain point in his life, it’s really only Hollows that should fear indiscriminate murder. Unless you threaten his fragile peace, or claim Yhwach was just.

- IS THERE SOMEONE /-THING THEY HATE?:  Bazz-B hates Hollows, and any Quincy loyalists that stand by Yhwach post-Aushwalen. Anyone who saw the true colors of their progenitor and still deluded themselves into thinking him right.. it’s disgusting.

IS YOUR MUSE EASY TO APPROACH?: YES / NO. - Best ways to approach them?:  Stoke his ego and you’re usually set for a good few hours.

SOMETHING YOU MAY STILL WANT TO POINT OUT ABOUT YOUR MUSE?: Nothing you cant already find on one of my many ramblings about that greatest Quincy that every lived, Bazzard ‘Bazz-B’ Black!

CONGRATS!!! You managed it, now tag your mutuals! ♥

Tagged by:  @equipollency (I got a phantom notification so I rolled with it)

Tagging: @diepower + @zombiequincy + @verzinken + @cheonsaaui + @bleachsthetic + @senboago + any other quincy reading this

[unusual-ly]

Year-Round Christmas Angel

Since Last Christmas doesn’t have a category on FFN, I’m posting a fic directly to Tumblr for once! A fluffy little Kate/Tom one-shot, Merry Christmas everyone~!

[Wattpad]

@the-duke-remus

Kate assumed Tom would pass on and vanish, for good this time, once she got her life sorted out. Just because he can pass on, though, doesn't mean he has to. Or wants to.​

Christmas Eve. The show at the homeless shelter had probably been Kate’s greatest achievement, all things considered, but now she was exhausted (and surprisingly sober, for her) and ready to go home. She was untangling the lights she had wrapped around herself the second she walked through the front door, after proudly strutting from her dad’s cab to the house with the colours glowing bright. She quickly said goodnight to her family (and Alba, who was spending the night) and headed right to her room.

“Last Christmas, I gave you my heart, but the dah-dah-dah dah...” she closed the door behind her with a quick hip-check while her hands were busy untying the bow around her neck, “Hmm-hmm-mm-mm...”

She was still facing the door as she tossed her tinsel crown aside and was just starting to unbutton the dress so she could finally crawl into bed and get some sleep when-

“This year, to save me from tears...”

Kate stopped short at the second button; another voice had joined her. A male voice. One that she would recognise anywhere, but thought for sure she wouldn’t ever hear again.

He couldn’t be, could he? Surely not.

With a small frown, Kate slowly turned around and as soon as she did, she screamed.

Then immediately clamped her hands over her mouth.

“To-” she realised she was shouting and cut herself off.

Her mother’s concerned voice came from down the hall, “Katarina?”

For a second, Kate wasn’t sure what to do. Because there was Tom, dressed as he always was, looking as relaxed and sure of himself as he always did, just... sitting there. On her bed. As if it was totally normal for him to be there. She stared wide-eyed at him while he shrugged and pulled a face that said ‘Well, I came all this way. I couldn’t possibly leave now’. Kate, at a complete loss for words, hissed under her breath, “Tom...!”

But before she could figure out what to say, her mum appeared at the door.

“Katarina? Are you alright? I heard scream, is something-”

“Nope! No! Everything’s fine!” Kate plastered on a way-too-cheerful smile. The one she had often worn at work.

“If everything is fine, why the screaming?”

“You do realise she can’t see me, don’t you?” Tom piped up from the bed and Kate realised she was trying to block her mum’s view of the room and she quickly straightened up, forcing herself not to glance back at the man – the ghost – who was casually leaning back against the headboard.

“The scream. Right. Um...” Kate cleared her throat in an attempt to stall for time. She glanced down at the single undone button on her dress, “I... M-my hair, it got caught on the button, so...”

“On the button?” her mum echoed and Kate nodded, “But your hair is so short now, it does not reach the button-”

“And it got caught anyway!” Kate said, throwing her arms up in an exaggerated shrug. She heard Tom snort and laugh, assumedly behind his hand, and resisted the urge to roll her eyes, “Thanks for the concern, Mum, but I am absolutely fine, you go head off to bed. I’m sure you’re tired after the show and all that, and it is Christmas tomorrow, so goodnight!”

She didn’t let her get so much as one word in as she gently coaxed (or more like shoved) her mother out the door then closed it and turned back to Tom. By now, he was sitting up, his feet flat on the floor, leaning slightly forward with his elbows propped up on his knees and his chin rested on his clasped hands. And he was grinning at her with that same old sparkle in his eye.

“I quite like your Mum,” he stated in the most matter-of-fact way, emphasising it with a short nod and a satisfied smile, “Can’t wait to hear the lullabies.”

Kate couldn’t do much but nod back awkwardly at first, but after a moment, she found her voice.

“How did you even find me?”

“Easy. Followed my heart.”

She sucked in a breath and looked down, but there was no hiding the smile that was tugging on her lips, “Very funny.”

“I thought so.”

“Did you?” Kate jeered, then went quiet, cocking her head to one side, “What are you still doing here? I got the closure I needed, my life’s getting better, I’m... I’m looking after your heart. Haven’t you, you know, fulfilled your purpose? Shouldn’t you be gone?”

“Apparently not,” Tom shook his head, “Still a ghost. Still in your head. Still Tom, last I checked.”

“But aren’t ghosts supposed to, like,” she gestured vaguely, “Pass on or something?”

“I mean, I could. But that doesn’t stop me from visiting,” he pointed out as she sat down beside him, “I’m quite literally a part of you, remember? Besides, I can’t exactly just let you run wild with my heart.”

“Maybe this time you could actually keep in touch, though, yeah?”

He sighed, leaning back again and letting her lean against him, “Still no phone, remember?”

Kate hummed in response, only to suddenly sit up a moment later, startling Tom, “Oh! That reminds me,” she slid off the bed again and over to her dresser, “I found it. They were selling your flat and I went looking for you and the guy obviously thought I was there looking to buy. But anyway, I found your phone in the cupboard,” she opened a drawer and started rummaging around, “Not there,” she shut it and opened another, “Nope. Hold on...” her face lit up when she opened the last drawer, “Ah! Got it!” She joined him back on the bed, old iPhone in hand, “I charged it up for you. Can’t unlock it though.”

She held it out to him, but he just shrugged.

“I can’t do anything with it now.”

Kate dropped her eyes to the screen and she ran her thumbs down the edges. Of course he couldn’t. He was a ghost. He couldn��t truly interact with the living world. Apart from her, at least. She leaned on his shoulder and tipped her head back, “Can you remember the passcode? Then I could open it. Unless you’ve got some kind of secret hidden in it?” she smirked, raising an eyebrow.

“Is there a reason you want to get in there?” Tom raised an eyebrow back.

She shrugged, avoiding eye contact now, “Oh, you know, just to have something of yours I can hold on to. And... learn a little bit about your what your life was like,” she finally looked back at him, her expression somewhat sombre, “You can learn a lot about someone from what’s on their phone.”

He did remember it. Roughly. It took a couple of incorrect inputs but they got in on the third try, and once they did, it didn’t take long for them to lose track of time as Kate scrolled through photos and contacts and saved dates. Tom didn’t seem to have many secrets, and what use was there in keeping the ones he used to have now that he was dead?

Soon, the two of them had sunk a little lower onto the bed, Tom still partially propped up while Kate lay nestled in the crook of his neck. They had been silent for some time now, relaxing in each other’s company. The phone was still in her hand, but she wasn’t paying much attention to it anymore.

The man lying beside her was dead. And he was the reason she was alive. The invitations to go on walks, the concern over her unhealthy eating habits, the way he always encouraged her to slow down, observe her surroundings, avoid stress... at first, it had all just been to make sure his heart was taken care of but somewhere along the way, it turned into caring for her. Maybe even loving her. Of course, a normal relationship wasn’t exactly an option under the circumstances they found themselves in. But Tom was still there. She knew now she really didn’t have to depend on him. That she shouldn’t. But having him around, having someone she could open up to, was just what she needed. Her guardian angel. Her very own, year-round, Christmas angel.

She put the phone aside and hesitantly tilted her head to look up at him.

“... Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“... I can’t feel your heartbeat.”

Their eyes met for a short moment and Tom smiled sadly at her. He then took her hand in his and guided it to her own chest.

“There. That’s our heartbeat.”

Her eyes scanned his face. He stared back at her.

Kate cracked in a matter of seconds, struggling to muffle her laughter.

“Is it possible for you to go five minutes without sounding so poetic?”

“Absolutely not.”

[inkdrinkershadowsinger]

Thoughts/Background Prisoner of Azkaban

First all, let me state that without Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban that we would not have had a franchise. We would have had three movies then done. One hundred percent. This movie changed everything from the sharpness that was lacking in the first two, to the creative that stayed pretty true throughout the rest of the series. This made it less wholesome and sweet like One and Two, and channeled just everything into a solid direction that was edgy and new.

No magic outside of school. No wonder the ministry is watching his ass.

I’ve heard that this scene is supposed to represent Harry masturbating, and if that is true, then we sure have gone in a new direction.

No wonder he can’t sleep Vernon, you keep busting into his room every night.

The first two movies, I felt like Harry was rather young looking, but in this one, Harry and all of the others really grow up, and may I say, “Glowed up” as well.

Just look at the sharpness and clarity in this movie. It was filmed wwith a different camera entirely.

Marge is a bitch. I hate her guts. Umbridge is the number one villain, then her, then Voldemort.

Harry thinks he wins, and then he can spell some shit about to pop off.

And since Harry is a Gryffindor, he cannot keep his mouth shut when this horrible woman is insulting his parents.

And Harry has probably heard even at school that his mother just because of her blood wasn’t as good as anyone else, and to have that compounded when this horrible turnip comes to stay was probably way too much for him.

Dudley couldn’t care less. Petunia is very concerned that this is going to ruin her dinner.

See how Harry runs!!! He’s like, “Time to go.”

I love that we get this shot of Lily and James dancing in nearly every movie.

Try me, bitch.

Marge is floating away into the night sky. I would hate to be the person who had to fly up and get her down to be obliviated.

It looks like he is near a park, is the park that is adjacent to the one that Harry is in at the beginning of Ootp?

SIRIUS!!!!!!

Stan is amazing. He just states the obvious in the funniest of ways. If there wasn’t such an age difference with the suspected death eater activity, him and Luna would have been cute.

What does that red sign say above Stan’s head on the bus? It looks like it says, Black Pepper Impi???? I’m sure about the Black Pepper, but I’m not sure about the last or the first word.

Stan says the most iconic thing her, “Don’t you tell me that you’ve never been hearin’ of Sirius Black.” Stan’s incredulity is amazing here because every knows about Sirius. And everyone should, dang beautiful man.

Tom sure transformed for this movie.

I love that he would have a car out front. You could activate the alarm to keep Muggles who got to close to run off.

It looks like that quill is dictating what the minister is saying. He is most likely making a formal decree as he is telling Harry that everything is all well and good and he is getting off with a little slap on the wrist.

Sirius Black. This is one of the best names in literature. It is just perfect. It could be corny and ordinary but it is perfect.

I love that from the windows of the Leaky you can see both Diagon and also the Muggle world. It is a nice meeting point.

You know the shopkeeper was selling what, a hundred of these monster books, and no one thought to tell any of them how to open them without getting ripped up?

I love all the details in this movie. The guy stirring his drink with his hand, the maid here. I love it all. This movie is very detailed oriented.

The only known shot of who is probably the hottest Weasley brother, if not figuratively then definitely literally.

There is art on the walls of the Leaky, but none of them seem to be moving.

The person in the background is carring like 70 plates as they wobble above their head.

The tea is pouring itself.

Let me just tell you that perhaps you may actually get murdered this year, but no big deal, just keep your nose down. This seems to be such a British sort of thing, like keep your head down, and nothing bad will happen.

I hate those wanted posters because they look like they were taken upon intake, and Sirius has just lost everything, and the loss and angry and desperation portrayed here really messes me up. Like I know that they aren’t real people, but dang, those emotions are real.

Percy in the background here. I never noticed him before.

They all look so grown up. My gosh.

Lupin!

You can always count on Ron to tell the truth.

That bottle of water right there by Lupin’s head. I take it two ways. One, that’s legit all Lupin could probably afford on this trip. And two, it would be a good way for him to keep his face hidden, but see inside of it to see whose reflections are present so he can know who took the compartment with him. I also headcanon, that this is after a full moon night which is why he is a bit lethargic.

The reason that Harry passed out, and no others did was because the dementors were feeding off of him. They took at least three pulls from Harry, but not anyone else.

If you have any questions about whether Hogwarts curriculum is up to snuff just look at any movie. These kids should get a crash course in all the crap that could kill them immediately so that they are aware. I wonder what the accidental death rate is at Hogwarts?

The chorus!!! I know that this was an add in from the director, but I love it, and it should remain canon. I also like they copied it, though with a more nefarious sound during Half Blood Prince.

“Something wicked this way comes!”

Snape claps like three times.

Why would they seat him next to Snape in the first place? Dumbledore is a shit stirrer, and completely planned that.

Draco is a punk bitch. But at this point, you can just see that it is teasing more than anything nefarious. He’s a little bully.

Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if only one remembers to turn on the light. This is one of the most iconic quotes of the series.

Everyone is watching the Fat Lady perform. I love that they brought her to life more, but kept that sassy attitude.

This scene is pure gold. It brought a lot of needed MAGIC to this movie about magic.

I love that Hogwarts is this super prestigious campus with bridges and fountains.

The way that the Womping Wilow is used to portray time is amazing.

She has all of the tea cups stacked behind her. Are those from an earlier class that need to be washed?

This whole film was shot using VIVID from Iphone.

Everyone behind her just leans into see what new stuff Harry Potter is going to get up to this year.

Ron, get some glasses, that clearly looks like a fucking dog. Dang.

Ron is keeping track of his girl. It took them too long to get together.

I don’t care what anyone says about Hagrid as a teacher this lesson was amazing.

Some things are just so second nature to Hagrid. It is proof that different types of intelligence are ral.

When your friends are that choreographed to mock your enemies, like that is some commitment. I stan the Slytherins a bit for this.

In the books, Harry actually steps up for Hagrid instead of being volunteered by everyone else.

Drapple, part one.

That girl behind Ron and Hermione looks to be about twenty seven years old. Someone got into Hogwarts from this reality, and I am pissed that it wasn’t me.

Just the scope and grandeur of Hogwarts, and the grounds really just gets me.

Malfoy is such a whiner. But I assume that he isn’t quite used to pain, any pain really.

The ghosts, also, in this movie are way more dynamic then the ghosts in the previous films.

You really get a sense, a subtle one, of blossoming emotions between members of the opposite sex.

I never noticed that there are hands holding Sirius for this mug shot. It looks to be at least two people that are physically restraining him for this shot.

Lupin calls on Neville of all people, and I am obsessed with him forever because of this. It is popular fanon that the Marauders knew Frank and Alice. It would make sense that Lupin had heard something about Neville from the rest of the teachers, and decided to help bolster this child of his friends.

That image is seared into Neville’s mind.

Can a boggart touch people? I made a headcanon about that, but it would be nice to see what you all think.

I would have really liked to have sseen Hermione’s boggart. I know that the boggart scene in Fantastic Beasts left a few people underwhelmed, but I wonder if Hermione’s would have been just as tame.

McGonagall is authoritative. The perfect teacher balance.

I wonder how hard it was for Remus to stand on this bridge with Harry. I wonder what instance he is talking about here. Lily was there for him when no one else was? When? What instance? This is why we need more information about the Marauders era, and why I did a thing. If you want the thing, message me.

Is it weird that I’m a bit thirsty for head boy Percy’s voice?

She said the same thing to Sirius when he was a student. “Eyes like the devil.” But she probably didn’t mind as much then. We all know Sirius is smoking hot. Have you seen that Tumblr posts where Harry Potter series is ranked based on how attractive Sirius is described?

This might be the most beautiful that the ceiling of the Great Hall gets.

Snape knows how to assert dominance even as a substitute.

That projector is amazing looking.

I love that their school books in DADA are separated by creatures who sleep at night verses the day.

Malfoy isn’t even using that sling.

Hogwart’s professors do not give extra time on assignments okay, unless you are litearlly dead. If Harry had rolled up in there as a ghost, Snape would still be like, “Where is my essay?”

Is that supposed to be Cedric?

Why is Harry actually seeing the Grim though? Who is sending him these signs? How? Why?

That was a long way to fall.

We only see Dumbledore use his wand on a handful of occasions. Harry, the boy who will save them all, is literally falling out of the sky, and he still doesn’t use it.

You can see the Hufflepuffs in the background. I wonder who they were visiting. Madam Pomfrey probably can’t go one match without having a room full of patients afterward.

Fred Weasley looking fine.

The music here is amazing and soothing.

I imagine that kids swim out to that little island all the time during the warmer months.

Another reason Harry is not in Ravenclaw: It took him at least three Hogsmeade weekends to figure out that he could use his cloak to get there unseen.

Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs = My boys

I love when Fred and George speak in unison.

It looks like they make their own candy at the bottom of the shop.

Harry just took Neville’s lollipop though he can’t eat it as he walks down the street because it is on the outside of the cloak.

Hermione who grew up in the Muggle world instantly knows that it is Harry. Ron, who grew up in the wizarding world legit thought that it could have been ghosts from the Shrieking Shack.

Harry is someone who values loyalty above all else. It is why he eventually stands up for Neville and Luna because they were there for him at one point in time. To know that Sirius, the person who was his father’s best friend betrayed him is something that would have made Harry feel physically ill. It would be something that he wouldn’t entirely be able to process, and as a teenage boy, his feelings resulted in this show of anger and frustration.

Everything in this movie is visually stunning, and really sets the tone for the other films.

I wonder what Remus is thinking about in this situation. Is he wondering just why Harry doesn’t have many memories that he can draw on? Is he wondering what his life has been like? What his life would have been like if Lily and James had lived and thinking that he would have had all the happy memories in the world if they had?

You can see the instruments tracking the heavenly patterns.

So, does a Boggart take on all of the traits that the creature it is mimicking? If it takes the shape of a lethifold can it kill you? If it takes the shape of a dementor can it suck out your soul for real? What are the limitations?

And a train set? Does Remus have a thing for trains?

I wish that we would have got some more emotion here from Remus. Harry is giving all of himself here, and Remus is just quietly taking it all in.

Crookshanks in the house.

I love Hagrid’s outfit here.

Best Ron/Harry interaction. You kick those tape dance wearing spiders arses, Ronald Weasley.

In the previous two films we have those lights that blaze with fire like motion activated flames, but this hallway is dark and dank for dramatic effect.

At this point, Harry doesn’t believe in the maps infallibility so it would make sense that he doesn’t really go to anyone and explain what he say on the map. Also, how would he know that someone wouldn’t take it from him? He would have seen this as his only way to get to Hogsmeade with his friends, and he wouldn’t have wanted to give that up for anything.

The Marauders were some of the most intelligent students that have ever walked the halls of Hogwarts. They charmed this piece of parchment in what fifth year? They mapped almost the entire school, found several secret passageways, and helped out their friend in one of the most epic ways possible. I love them. (Peter found most of the passageways in his animagus form)

Read: Charming James Potter was one charming mother f-er. BET.

One of the only times Harry was pleased to read in front of a teacher.

Lupin to the rescue.

Snape is not subtle. It’s no wonder Hermione figured it out. Legit half of the Slytherins know, but they are so tired of having subpar defense teachers that they just go on with their business as usual.

I really wanted to see some more emotion on Lupin’s face. I want to see some subtly in the way that he looks at Harry or the way that he plays a scene. I want to see some longing for his lost friends or his friends son. I wanted to see more. I love this character, but I think it could have had more nuance.

Even the amazement at hearing Peter’s name is sort of dulled here. Idk.

Hermione is one hundred percent the person who cheats at board games, and who wrecked the board when she lost as a little girl. Only child syndrome.

This is the most visually pleasing classroom. You can see Sirius’ face in the crystal ball.

And does Harry tell anyone about this prophecy? Nope. No. Not anyone important.

Draco is instantly afraid because he knows that Hermione is a bad bitch. Also, he might be terrified because he knows how easy it is for people to lose control of their wands.

The Stonehenge like structures here are so interesting to me. They reach to the Heavens, they are in a circular pattern. If you’ll notice in movie 5, the chamber that the trial is in looks like it was built on top of an older chamber. It just makes everything feel as if the new is breeding from these old ancestral power lines or something of that nature, and I just love that idea.

Hagrid is the most responsible adult in this movie. Dumbledore and McGonagall are like, “Yeah, go ahead and meddle with time, no worries.” Hagrid is like, “Don’t worry about me and my feelings about Buckbeak, just get out of here, and be safe heading back to the castle.”

You have to think that even though Sirius spent 12 years in Azkaban that Peter’s time as a rat was never really all that perfect either. Being covered in bugs, constantly on the floor, people don’t really care for you, people who forget to feed you, 7 children all wanting your attention and pulling at you being the only pet that can’t fly in a house full of kids.

I always thought that was a very distinctive stone for Hermione to find and throw.

The time loop here always confused me.

The most awkward hug ever captured on film…no, wait....lol

When you are as blind as Harry James and I, losing your glasses means that you can’t see shit. You can’t see anything but swatches of color.

The Womping Willow has not forgotten that Harry and Ron threw a car into her. And she ain’t going to forget anytime soon.

“If you want to kill Harry, you’ll have to kill us too.” Loyalty, my friends. Absolutely crazy, we’re going to get sliced up by an escaped criminal loyalty, but loyalty none the less.

Sirius has spent twelve years in Azkaban, but is still a ten. I just read that Buzzfeed list about which HP characters had the most BDE, and I was not surprised to see Sirius Black on the list. Also, Professor McGonagall, who honestly should have held the top spot.

Lupin flirting from the word, “Go.”

Lupin has dealt with manic Sirius before. Several times.

“I did my waiting twelve years of it… in Azkaban!!!” Is one of the most iconic lines ever.

I had not yet read the books when this movie came out, and I remember be literally so surprised. “The rat is a man?? WTF?”

Snape, here, believes up to this point that Sirius is the reason that Voldemort was able to find Lily in the first place. He believes that Sirius is the reason that the only person Snape ever really cared about is dead. If Snape was a Gryffindor he would have went for the immediate gratification of AK’ing Sirius, but instead, Snape is a true Slytherin and that means that he is vicious, he wants to make sure the revenge is as bad as it can be. In that vein, he wants to let the dementors suck out Sirius’ soul. He wants Sirius to feel like he has felt all the years, like a body with no soul. Lifeless. Death, Snape would think, would be too easy for someone who had taken so much away from him.

Remus is like, “Okay, no, no negotiating or touching Severus at all, gotcha.”

Sirius is goading Snape even at wand point. You want to think that this is the Black family madness or Azkaban insanity, but it is just Sirius being a cocky bastard, overestimating himself and underestimating his opponents.

Sirius and Remus argued like this all the time. Snape gets the old married couple vibe, and honestly, me too.

This is how the Marauders argued. All standing, pacing the room is various shades of annoyance with one another, wishing the other would shut up, shouting “reason”, casting spells, Peter crawling under furniture to avoid said spells, aggressive politeness, “We do not say, “Shut up!””

I would kill Pettigrew for the insipid voice of his.

Why would Dumbledore put a piano in the shrieking shack in the first place.

This is one place where Remus shows some nuance. He wants to kill Peter, intensely. He only stalls and reluctantly at that, because Harry says something.

Sirius looking at the castle and saying that one day he wishes that one day he could walk inside as a free man fucks me up. Hogwarts to Sirius must represent the reverse of everything that Azkaban did. The two places that Sirius spent most of his life. The happiest and the unhappiest memories that he has. The place where he had his friends and then the place where he only had their memories.

I hate this. They all just gradually glance at the moon like something has gone wrong. Like they are calling attention to some fun little oddity.

I wonder how many times Sirius tried to talk to Remus in the form of a wolf. Did he really think that it was possible to call back Remus from the wolf? Had they tried that before? Did it work?

Snape still tries to protect the kids even after they stunned him. Snape has a pathological fear of werewolves, and yet, he stands in its way.

I feel like if Remus was honest with everyone, Dumbledore and Harry that he could have told Harry that meeting up with Sirius and James and Peter in their animagus form while he was the wolf and that they kept him from hurting people would have given Harry more confidence in Sirius’ ability to handle Remus and he wouldn’t have run off with him in the first place. Sirius might never have gotten caught. They all might have made it back to the castle. I don’t know. Honesty is the best policy.

What is that little ball of light that floats out and then in of Harry’s mouth? What is that? Is that supposed to represent his soul? Because Sirius’s soul would be blazing red, yellow, and orange.

The way Dumbledore says, “Scabbers”, like he legit thinks that Ron’s rat could have had a hand in the trouble.

Me and Ron are the same. Dumbledore is just so cheery about the prospect of these two kids going back in time to SAVE LIVES. They aren’t going to the store to get milk, Dumbledore, this is serious business.

Buckbeak is living his best life.

Harry really wants to believe that his dad conjured this Patronus. He has just seen Sirius who isn’t a mass murderer at all, but someone who loves him intensely. He thinks that he is going to get away from the Dursleys. He just blasted the teacher that he hates. He has literally just gone back in time to help save his friends and catch the real bad guy. I mean, why wouldn’t he even consider the possibility that his dad could have somehow cast the Patronus? For Harry, it would seem at least possible if not probable.

I hate when Harry says, “He will come.” Harry is someone who has always only been able to depend upon himself, but in this moment, he thinks that he can depend on someone else to come to his rescue. I know that he finds his own empowerment here, and is able to cast a super strong charm to help get himself and Sirius out of trouble, but he, once again, had to stand up and take care of things himself.

The explanation that he gives on how he casts the patronus doesn’t make sense to me either, Hermione, don’t worry. Time loops are tricky business.

Sirius is down for this ride. Don’t tell me he never played Quidditch. I will fight you. He mocked James for it at first, but then was just as fanatical.

The way that Sirius holds Harry’s face just messes me up. It is like he is trying to memorize every detail in his face.

Remus moved so many small personal objects into this office. It gives you the feel that he really thought that he might be able to stay, and I hate that he was forced out. He is using a cane the night after the full because it was so rough.

The twins are beautiful mischief makers and I love them. I wish we had more of them in these films, but they are sprinkled in wonderfully.

Even Percy has to see this broom in action.

This was the best end for this film because while Harry didn’t get freedom from the Dursley’s he did get some fun which is what godfather’s are for, right?

The art for this film is out of its mind. It is creative and wonderful, and really takes you inside of the theme for this movie. I love it, and even the credits draw you further in to this universe. This is one film that makes all the others better just because it exists.

[phonaesthemes]

a list of asks

@padawanyugi tagged me in this, but Tumblr decided to eat any notification that I got tagged, so I’m glad I saw it on my dash because I like filling these things out. Thanks for tagging me! I may have typed A Lot.

Favorites: What types of books do you enjoy? Tell about what you’ve read recently (Or maybe about a book you hated recently!)I like spec-fic and sci-fi, although less “hard” science fiction, and I also enjoy fantasy. I read a lot of YA even though I’m in my 30s just because it seems easy to find a story I want to read and I’m not usually in the mood for dense prose.

I’ve been rereading the Wheel of Time series since it’s getting an Amazon TV show; it was my first non-LOTR fantasy series and I love it to death, warts and all, although I love joking about the weak points with other people who’ve read it. I think the last other thing I read was A Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue, which was a queer YA historical fiction, and it was a lot of fun. I wish I’d had access to all these queer stories when I was an actual teenager, but better late than never.

What types of music do you like to listen to? Share five songs from your music library. I really do like a bit of everything, although I gravitate towards certain genres more often depending on the season or time of day, so I’m going to cheat and pick 5 per season. Summer for me is lots of peppy pop (pride playlists!), punk and rock and punk-adjacent stuff, just upbeat stuff in general. -Weekender, by The Royal They -Break My Heart, by Dua Lipa -Toutes les femmes savent danser, by Loud -Ruby Soho, by Rancid -Womanarchist, by Bad Cop, Bad Cop

In the fall, my inner goth kid craves darkwave, goth rock, dramatic folk, roots rock, and also anything that reminds me of Halloween. -Iuka, by the Secret Sisters -Bela Lugosi’s Dead, by Bauhaus -How’s It Gonna End, by Tom Waits -Under the Milky Way, by The Church -I Put a Spell on You, by Screamin’ Jay Hawkins I could go on about the Christmas music I like at length (Boney M’s Christmas album slaps, ngl) but I’ll just skip that and say that I listen to more classical and piano pieces in the winter. I’m terrible at remembering names, so artists only: -Ludovico Einaudi -Chopin -Debussy -Saint-Saëns -Dvořák And in spring I’m usually just depressed af and listen to whatever. -FML, by K.Flay -Weird Part of the Night, by Louis Cole -Juodaan Viinaa, by Korpiklaani -P.O.H.U.I., by Carla’s Dreams -Marryuna, by Baker Boy

Do you have a show or movie that you can just put on anytime and it’s your comfort? Definitely Star Trek. I’ve rewatched the various iterations (except TOS) so many times. Also Mean Girls and Bring It On, idk why.

Do you have a favorite dessert? Tiramisu or creme brulée! Or macarons. I don’t eat dessert really unless I’m at a restaurant.

Do you have a favorite cold drink? Sparkling water, hands down.

Do you have a favorite game? The hours I have put into the SIms in my lifetime is probably shameful, although I haven’t played in a while. Don’t Starve is another contender for hours played, but I am also really fond everything by Amanita Design

Do you have a favorite part of your self care/beauty/health routine? I haven’t been doing it much lately since I’ve been dealing with some uncertain health issues with my joints (actually have a rheumatologist appointment later today), but savasana after a long yoga workout is borderline ecstasy.

Do you have a favorite type of take-out food? Indian for sure.

What’s your favorite type of exercise/physical activity? I have a love-hate relationship with running. I don’t actually love it but I love how I feel after. I really enjoy yoga. I love playing in the water at the beach, bodyboarding and swimming.

Pick between: (you choose the context)

Cook or bake? (I love cooking A Lot)

Space or ocean? (Hard to pick, but I grew up by the ocean and it’s 100% my happy place)

Chocolate or vanilla?

City or suburb or rural? (I grew up in an isolated rural village and I miss the quiet and the slower pace of life, but I do not miss the lack of amenities and opportunities, or the smalltown gossip. I also don’t drive bc of epilepsy, so I’m fucked as far as transport in rural settings.)

Past or future?

Shower in the morning or evening?

Mac/Apple or PC/Android? (Linux in general!)

Sing or dance?  (I don’t have an amazing voice but I can carry a tune without it being painful, and I love singing along with songs.)

Get up early or sleep in? (I actually love sleeping in but with two kids, early morning is my only time to myself, so I wake up before 6 most days AGGH.)

Shoes, socks, or bare feet? (Hate socks. I’m barefoot at home all year round.)

Marker, crayon, or pencil? Pen!

Tea, coffee, or hot chocolate? (Coffee in the morning, tea later on.)

Random questions:

Have you ever had any pets? (Had dogs and a cat as a kid, and as an adult I’ve had betta fish and cats, and I have a cat currently.)

What is your academic background/job field? I did my undergrad in linguistics, and I am currently a stay-at-home dad lol. I do freelance editing and transcription on the side. I don’t think I’ll ever work in my field bc I really don’t have the energy to go to grad school.

What’s something random that you’re into (even if you aren’t good at it)? I signed up for a Cape Breton step dancing class in university and I loved it.

Are you good at putting away your clean laundry right away? It depends on the day, but generally yes. Mine and everyone else’s. When I lived alone? Absolutely not.

What’s one of your pet peeves? Someone trying to have a conversation with me when they have the radio or TV on. I can’t follow what you’re saying if someone else is speaking! I hate having that stuff on as background noise in general.

What’s something you’re pretty good at? I’m a great cook.

What’s the most recent nice thing you bought for yourself? A new conditioner ig? lol

Can you sew? I can mend a small tear or sew on a button, but it’s been years since I did more than that.

What’s a chore you hate (or a chore you enjoy)? I hate vacuuming so much. So much. Maybe if I had a better vaccuum cleaner I wouldn’t mind it, but I just feel like I’m fighting with the stupid thing, getting caught up on its own cords, caught on furniture, can’t quiiiite reach a spot... HATE IT. I like shoveling snow sometimes, though.

Tell us a fun fact about yourself. I am 20 years older than my youngest sibling, and five minutes younger than my “oldest” sibling.

Never have I ever... Gone fishing, even though I’m from a fishing community.

What extracurriculars did/do you do in school? In high school, I played trumpet in band until the band got dissolved from lack of funding. I played soccer one year, was in a play another year. We had an art club for like a semester that I was in. In university the first time round, I did step dancing and intramural hide and seek  Second time around, I was in the linguistics club to help with assignments. (We were very much encouraged to work in pairs or groups for a lot of different classes. The only thing was that you did need to list your group members on the assignment so the prof knew who you worked with. My first morphology class in particular, we had a whole homework club where a huge portion of the class got together to work through assignments and help each other understand, and the prof would quite often show up. </tangent>

Deeper questions:

How’s your quarantine/last few months been? The cabin fever was really bad before the weather warmed up. I struggle with seasonal depression every spring, and it’s gotten much worse since we moved to Edmonton because of how long the winters are. (Snow from September to May/June? Fucccck.) It’s frankly horrifying to look at what’s going on in the US, but even though we have far fewer cases here, I’m really anxious that we’ll see another wave soon. Otherwise, I think I’ve adjusted. Home-schooling, hand-sanitizing, social distancing, masks...All feels kind of normal now, which should maybe concern me.

What do you think of human nature/society/etc.? I am like the least philosophical person you will meet so I don’t think I really have many thoughts.

What’s something you are insecure about? Writing my L2 if a native speaker is gonna read it.

What do you think is the meaning of life/reason that humans exist in the universe? I don’t think there is one, and that doesn’t bother me.

Do you think you’re better (whatever that means to you) than you used to be? Definitely. My adolescence and early adulthood was rough. I was dealing with a lot of trauma, untreated bipolar disorder, and I self-harmed for a very long time. I could not imagine making it to 30, let alone being stable and happy. I actively avoided thinking about the future because it made me spiral. But I was lucky enough to get help, consistent help from a doctor I clicked with, and it made a world of difference. I think younger me would be disappointed at how mundane my life is, but I’m thrilled to be boring because boring means no life-upending mood episodes. I have a happy partnership and two delightful kids and I couldn’t ask for more.

What are your thoughts on religion? I’m not religious and my own experience being raised in the Catholic church was frankly traumatic, but I know that it’s a source of comfort and community for many others and I think that’s awesome for them.

Do you think that there are aliens out there? I think so, although I think that we may not even know what other kinds of life to look for and may not recognize it even if we find it.

What’s something that’s been on your mind recently? We’re moving cross-country in less than a month (driving, no less, nearly 5000 km) and I still have so much to do to get ready aosjdoajdoasijdoaijsd