#martha war over i'm so tired
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aq2003 · 1 year ago
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that fucking anon sent me another ask but i deleted it because it was so stupid and made my brain leak outta my ears. love and light
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kitausuret · 1 month ago
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Potential spoilers for All New Venom
But let's be real I'm just wildly speculating on one of the 4 candidates
I'm probably wrong, but the funniest possible thing Al Ewing could do is make Robbie Robertson the next Venom. It would actually kind of make sense, though:
- Especially when Peter was younger, teens and early twenties, Robbie was the closest thing Peter had to a father figure after losing Uncle Ben. The Symbiote has been agonizing over how poor of a parent it - and Eddie, too - has been in all the issues leading up to Venom War.
And it would've been able to glean from Peter that Robbie is a good dad. He's not perfect, but he loves Randy and wants what's best for him. Symby probably thinks it could learn a thing or two from him.
- Robbie is intelligent, resourceful, and street-smart as well as business smart. He was always the one who kept JJJ's moral compass more or less in line. He's not as.. shall we say, volatile as most previous hosts. And that might be a nice change of pace. He has insight into a lot of NYC society in general which is helpful when most of your hosts are just kind of... winging it.
- He's probably well into his 50s by now, but considering the Symbiote was able to cart around Eddie when he aged like fifty years, I'm sure Robbie would be no trouble. He also seems to be in pretty good health.
- He's loyal to those around him and is famously one of the most stable characters in the Spider-Man cast. And that's difficult to maintain.
But like, also, Robbie is the only one of the four that has any meaningful pre-existing connection to Spider-Man (and therefore to Venom). Maybe in the wake of his son's disastrous non-wedding and Gang War, Robbie is tired of being on the sidelines. So if he was approached by a certain alien after years of not being able to fight back... why not give it a go for a little while?
My only concern, I suppose, is if he would have to keep his new friend a secret from Martha. 🤔
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ashoss · 8 months ago
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Hii!! This is waterunderthebridge12, I just stumbled across your art of The Robin Declaration and it made my entire week <3333. I love Duke so much and I'm so glad there are others who love him too!!! I would love if you dropped your Duke-centric fic recs, I've only read a few good ones (that aren't just him being an outsider) so any recs are appreciated!
oh my god! hii! im so glad u liked the silly little doodle lol i would love to do an actual drawing for either The Robin Generation or the Robin Declaration !! they were such fun reads and i absolutely adored the way you portrayed all of them <33
unfortunately i dont really have a lot of duke-centric fics but i have a couple!
WHEN EARTH FINDS STARS. by orpheusaki
duke & jason, pre-WAR and signal
15.8k words, 4 chapters (unfinished)
"Let it be known that I completely detest the implications of what this situation is mirroring," Red Hood grumbles to himself and it's the longest string of words Duke has heard from any so-called Gotham vigilante, let alone the one who's known for shooting more than he is talking. "The fuck?" Duke mutters, because if he's already going to die, he might as well try and make sense of it. "I'm not going to care about whatever sob story you have," is what Red Hood replies with instead of explaining, "Where are your parents?" "Gone," is all Duke says, because it's really none of this guy's business. It's also the truth. Somehow, Red Hood sounds even more anguished about this information than Duke is, "Ah shit." (Duke steals the tires off Red Hood's bike and somehow gains a family.)
YOU HEAR ITS SONG FROM THE MORNING BIRDS. (series) by orpheusaki
duke & bruce, duke & batfam
9k words, 3 words (unfinished)
A series of Duke Thomas centric works, mostly featuring his growing relationship with his new kind-of-dad-boss-friend, Bruce Wayne.
Keep Your Head, Your Backbone, and Your Heart by MrMich
duke & tim, alfred, bruce
54k words, 6 chapters
The last thing that Duke expected on what was supposed to be just a regular patrol was being suddenly thrown five years into the past, coming face to face with a darker, more violent Batman than the one he knew, a broken family, and a Tim who was a foot shorter than Duke, and not even Robin yet.
A silent shadow flitted past him, just barely visible on the cave walls. He went rigid, tracking the shadow in the corner of his vision. And then he dropped to the floor, just in time, as a familiar black gloved fist passed overhead. He just barely missed being hit by the punishing blow that would have landed right on his temple for a sure concussion if he hadn’t dodged. “Batman?” Duke yelled. He somersaulted forward, just barely avoiding another strike. “B, what are you doing?!” “Who are you,” came the growled response. A shiver crawled down Duke’s spine at the grim hostility in Batman’s voice that promised violence, and something tightened in the back of his throat.
Family-- by incorrectbatfam
duke & batfam
3.3k words, 1 chapter
“Your assignment over the weekend is to write a poem about your family.”
Strange Bedfellows by snackbaskets
duke & steph & jason
2.7k words, 1 chapter
Little known fact about bats: they're AWFUL at sleeping alone. At least, the ones in the Manor seem to be, if the half-conscious kind-of-maybe siblings using Duke as a body pillow are any indication. When did he sign up for this?
Ghosts Of The Past by PlatitudinalTeen
duke & martha, thomas, duke & bruce
7.2k words, 1 chapter
Shortly after moving into Wayne manor, Duke discovers he can commune with the dead when his grandparents, Thomas and Martha Wayne begin to accidentally haunt him. ------- "No powers?" Duke repeated, even more confused as he tried to recall everything he had ever heard about Ghosts. "So, you can't possess anyone or make the lights flicker? What about telekinesis and all the other scary stuff from the books and movies?" "Those things can only be achieved by malicious spirits, dear," Martha told him. "We may be ghosts, but we aren't vengeful." They had made peace with their deaths, and even if they were still tied to the manor, it was exactly where they wanted to be. Thomas chuckled. "Yes, that's more of our son's department," he quipped, using his fingers to mimic Batman's ears. "Vengeance is a young man's game, really."
Starshine by zodarii_dae
duke & bruce, reverse robins
3.6k words, 1 chapter
Duke Thomas is a Gothamite, through and through. There’s not a lot he knows for certain, but he knows that the bagels are great, that Bruce Wayne is stupid rich, and that Batman will always protect him. That’s just how it is. So when Batman promises to bring him to his family, he believes him. Neither of them expected it to happen quite the way it did, but it all works out for the best. Or How Duke loses his parents, gains a new family, and becomes a vigilante- in that order, with some stuff in between.
necessary reminders by Quillium
duke & batfam
5.2k words, 1 chapter
Duke, as Signal becomes known and as Duke becomes part of the Wayne family.
*ao3 acc needed
hope you enjoy !!!
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phantomchick · 7 months ago
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✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩
Been a while since I did one of these but eh.
Skulduggery Pleasant
And The Darkness Rained Upon Them by MaidOfDarkness
It's a Skulduggery Pleasant time travel fix it. There are Skulduggery Pleasant fanfics? You may well ask. There are. Congratulations. This one's particularly good and I love time travel fix its so it really hits all my buttons at once.
You'll take care of it, alright? by JinxAnn
Valkyrie (13) got sick during a mission with Skulduggery, so he drops her off at his place. Leaving it to his friends to look after her, while he's working and probably just avoiding a situation he's not comfortable with. Meanwhile each of the dead men adds to the chaos, until one of them decides to save them all.
BNHA
The Democratic Republic of One for All by featherlessquill (CinnamonScribbles)
It's decided then, says First. I'm transferring the quirk. For the record, this is a terrible idea. Third slumps back in his seat. There's an abrupt shift in perspective, and now they're back on the rooftop with the kid. I hate democracy. This from Eigth's shadow. Or. The vestiges democratically elect the next One for All user. They do not inform All Might of their decision.
Star Wars
Biting His Own Tale by ADragonsFriend
Darth Vader time travel fix it to his prequel era body. I love how it handles the symptoms of his trauma from outsider perspectives. I love how redemptive it is, like it satisfies all those cravings for Darth Vader to put in the work to earn his redemption, earn peace for the galaxy he helped oppress. In the movies it makes sense that it's Luke who puts in the work because his father's already so lost in the darkness, but here we see an Anakin whose found his way back to the light thanks to Luke getting through to him (so that effort wasn't for nothing) while also getting Darth Vader vs The War That Ruined His Life/The World.
Not a Karking Jedi by 786
" You killed Jedi ! " " They tried to take my baby daughter " " Great power in the Force, you and your children have " " And they will not join your order of slavers, they will not have their freedom to feel emotion and have families stripped " " We do not enslave !. Your children will make great additions to the Order " " Do I get to be in their lives ? " " Attachment is forbidden ! " " And your presence is forbidden near MY children
DC Comics
dead man's party by TheResurrectionist
This fics a long time fave. Jason can see ghosts, a typical trope but taken to the fantastic extreme with how it handles Martha his jewish grandmother haunting him and explicates on all the ways that could effect him and his life. I especially loved the moments when mannerisms he's absorbed from being around her give Bruce and Alfred the grief/nostalgia. The latest update was hilarious.
Naruto
The New Recruit by butter_peanut
He looked like a particularly stupid civilian. He looked like a sharp burst of wind would blow him over. He looked like he’d answered their advertisement thinking the Akatsuki was a cat appreciation society. “Are you kidding?” said Hidan, voicing what everyone was thinking. “This guy is supposed to replace Sasori and Deidara?” “Sukea is qualified,” Pein said in a tone that brooked no arguments. “And will be paired with Tobi.”
Kagura by lulu_lisbon
It's a naruto self-insert but the mc is legitimately such a freak. And not in a crack way. Compelling. Wish there were 20 more chapters so I could more fully hurl myself into the abyss of her personality.
The Sage Who Leapt Through Time by SarthakBikramPanta
Naruto time travel fix it with spirit world/youkai content for flavour. I don't dig the main ship but the plot itself is fantastic and I really like the writing.
tired to his very bones by cheshire_carroll
“You killed Izuna!” Madara snarls, as if Izuna’s death is a heinous, unspeakable crime, instead of just another one of the countless casualties of war. Usually, Tobirama would remain icily silent on this matter– he may be an “ice-cold bastard” at the best of times, but he does possess enough heart to be kind, even to his once-enemies. Usually, he is functioning on more sleep.
Understanding Does Not Presage Peace by Karmic Acumen (Karmic_Acumen)
One of my current favourite reads. Follows the story of a self-insert who's reincarnated as a normal Konoha civilian whose family was killed by the kyuubi. Lore! Fantasy Science! Entertaining dialogue! A banger of a title that gets more apt the farther you are into the fic. Definitely recommend.
Hear the Silence by EmptySurface
I went from being someone who never read self-inserts and assumed they were all badly written/written for the author not the audience as a rule, to someone who reads my fair share of them and this fic is definitely a significant reason why. Kyo is an assassin with a poison specialty and she's a great character in her own right, seeing her live and grow is so fun and interesting. Really well written. I love reading this fic.
Death Note
Back Again by Brenna1918
Time travel fix it with L/Light as the ship. On the one level this fic sucks because Kira keeps being justified in-fic and I absolutely do not believe in the death penalty, whether as a cautionary thing to make people 'too afraid' to commit serious crimes or as a punishment, especially to the level it's used in Japan. The justice system will invariably punish those from impoverished or under-privileged backgrounds more often and more severely than the reverse, similarly Kira's justice fails to take into account societal pressures that underpin high crime rates; and dismisses the value and necessity of reformative justice despite the fact light himself is reforming himself somewhat from what he was. On the other hand this fic is so fun! It's well written, it's silly, it brings back the vibes of the original death note and respects the side characters while not being afraid to deviate drastically. Also the L/Light ship writing is A++++ content, it's so funny and lovely. This is a fantastic romance centred time travel fix it so far. Very entertaining read.
Avatar: The Last Airbender
i'll come crashing by ohmygodwhy
A:TLA au. Zuko and his boyfriend Jet (derogatory) spend 45k doing a mating dance around each other's identities and psychological issues. I am obsessed with this fic but in like, an unhealthy way, I shouldn't be reading this. But I'm gonna. Summary: Li's scar is suddenly all Jet can think about. The scar, the scar, the old man’s hot hands warming his tea like he thought he could get away with firebending in the middle of a crowd. or: After getting to know Li on the ferry, Jet sees Mushi heat his tea. Instead of assuming Li is also a firebender, Jet assess the situation and comes to a rather different conclusion.
One Piece
see hope rise with the tide by Origamidragons
“If you’re looking for Arlong, he’s inside,” she says, pointing at the monstrous building. Jinbe doesn’t look away from her, from the bruise over her eye. She can’t be older than thirteen or fourteen. Her fingers are worn red and raw. As he watches, a drop of blood drips to the ground. A girl, with reddish hair and exhausted eyes and a ragged, forced smile, and it’s Koala but it’s not. (Jinbe goes to check in on his brother, and finds some things that need to be set right.)
This Bites! by Xomniac
One piece self insert. I was giving this a reread. It's a bit too punch and judy in the humour sometimes for my tastes but this is a fantastic and very creative fic. I love how it explores how different things could've gone for certain crew-mates with the right encouragement and I love how it handles Cross (the mc)'s knowledge of the future and how he can use it to benefit the crew without spoiling the sense of adventure. It's a very epic read and lots of cool events happen. Plot-driven with a lot of respect for Oda's world-building. The way it handles the female characters (with the exception of granny kokoro who absolutely did not deserve to be body-shamed no matter her age and whose treatment upset me a lot actually) is also nice if not perfect, they all get stronger in a believable way and don't get perved on as much. Their character growth is really great. And I also like how it handles fight scenes, which are very easy to imagine clearly based on the descriptions. A very cool fic. I crave the sequel.
MARVEL
Choking on Sunlight by issuedSideways
Tony Stark centric. Platonic Hanahaki. Hanahaki Disease was distinctive enough that even Tony could recognize it. He’d heard of it, he just hadn’t ever thought it could happen to him. It was the sort of thing he associated with lovesick melodrama, more fitting for a cheesy telenovela plot than real life. At sixteen, he felt far too old for that sort of thing. And more importantly, he wasn’t in love with anyone.
tempo(ral) by dakhtar
Tony Stark's last memory is of the sceptre touching his chest, the alien metal clinking delicately against the glass surface of his arc reactor, and Loki's triumphant face. His next memory is waking up in Siberia, bruised and confused, with FRIDAY apparently his AI and Rhodey - Rhodey! - in a wheelchair. (The sceptre does nothing. Except it does everything. Tony Stark's eyes turn blue, but only until he flies a nuke through a portal. And then--)
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dcfanficrealtime · 1 year ago
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1914: A Gift
The year is 1914. The year gods started to walk the Earth.
In Kansas, USA there lies a small town in the direct center of the state. A town that once wanted to grow bigger but due to economic changes and with the dawn of a new century, this town's growth was stunted. But in hindsight, the people of this town had no idea why they even tried so out of irony, they decided to name the town Smallville.
But enough about the history of Smallville. On December 2nd, 1914 a young married couple find themselves on the way back home from buying a new automobile from Wichita. The husband, named Jonathan (27), is excited about his new purchase. "Well this will make it a hell of a lot easier to get around town. At least we won't have to keep bumming rides from the Langs. Isn't this exciting dear?" But his wife, Martha (25) gives a quiet "Yes, that's great honey." Jon can hear the sadness in Martha's voice. "Listen, I know this has been a hard time with losing the baby in the... accident. I know it's tough. But maybe this can be a new start for us. Maybe God is testing us right now and maybe... maybe it's just not our time." Martha lets out a hefty sigh and continues to stare out the window.
On their drive home, a storm begins to brew. "Uh oh, here comes that good ol' Kansas weather," Jonathan says under his breath. Not even a few minutes go by and they're in the middle of a blizzard. "Maybe we should stop and wait for it to blow over!" yells Martha. "No, we can make it! We're only a few miles away!" It gets harder and harder to see and the wind keeps gushing by growing louder and louder. "Jonathan, stop!" Martha screams. "We can make it!" Jonathan screams back and as he says this a blast of light rushes past them and Jonathan swerves onto the side of the road, one of the tires popping right off! They're stopped. Jonathan looks over at Martha asking, "Are you alright?" "I'm fine honey. Are you?" "I'm ok. What the hell was that???" "I don't know, but whatever it was it looked like it stopped over there!" They see a big, glowing fire in the distance. Both wanting to see it out of curiosity, they both start to grab their heavier winter gear. But Jonathan stops and says, "Wait. What if it was trying to attack us? I mean look what it did to the car? There's no way it's safe." "What if it is?", Martha replies. "If it was after us it would've come for us already. We need to find out what it is." She explodes out of the car and starts her trek across the field. Jonathan sighs and goes after her.
After a few minutes of trekking through the snow, they see the glow start to simmer down and slowly disappear. They both start jogging toward it until... they see it. An aircraft of some sorts. Nothing they've ever seen before, something too far advanced than the technology they have now. "What the hell is this, Jonathan?" "It looks like a space craft out of one of those H.G. Wells books. But... no, it can't be. It has to be foreign. From the war. Russian? German? Chinese? And look at the markings on it. " They see painted on the vessel a crest of some sorts. A shield like shape with a big red S in the middle. "Let's go Martha, I don't like this." They turn to head back but right before they start on their way back to the automobile, Martha hears it. "Wait, Jonathan. Do you hear that?" "I don't hear anything," Jon replies. Martha runs back to the space craft. She tries to open it but immediately gets burned by the pod despite her gloves. A slight hiss could be heard from the space craft as the main cockpit opens up. Jonathan finally joins and sees what Martha heard. "Oh my god," Jonathan whispers. A baby, screaming and crying. Luckily, there's not a scratch on it. Martha darts towards it, picks it up and urges Jonathan to come back to the automobile. They get inside and both are starstruck. They grab one of the spare quilts they have in the back seat and wraps the baby in it. Both Jon and Martha hold each other close with the baby in Martha's arms. The baby starts to quiet down as well.
After an hour the storm comes to a halt and the sun gleams through the clouds. Jonathan repairs the tire on the automobile and they start back on their way to Smallville.
They stop by the local orphanage and explain to the dean that they found the baby in a... basket of sorts on the side of the road.
They head home and for a week straight, this baby is all Martha can think about.
Martha sits by the window in their bedroom and Jonathan stares at her longingly. "Still thinking about the baby?" Jonathan asks. Martha turns to look at him and nods. "It's all alone now," says Martha. "It has no family. We can't just let it grow up and let it wonder who their true family is, we can't let it feel abandoned." Jonathan replies, "We don't where it came from. Why was it there? What if it's... a weapon? What if it's from the war and whoever put that baby in there belongs to some foreign government?" Martha replies, "You said 'God was testing us'. What if... this is a gift? A message from Him? An answer to our prayers... You remember when I told you I was adopted?" Jonathan nods in response. "You know how I felt in that orphanage. I was alone for 14 years until finally my parents adopted me. I was so alone. It can't feel the same way. I won't let it. It's just a baby." Jonathan sighs, "When are we headed over?"
Paper work is signed and the young baby boy is handed to them wrapped in a bright blue blanket. The baby reaches out to Martha's face. The dean says, "I now pronounce you mother and father. Congratulations!" Jonathan and Martha smile from ear to ear. "What do you want to name him?" Jonathan asks. "There's no way we're naming him Jonathan Junior." "Dammit..." Jonathan whispers. "Wait, what was the name of your grandpa?" "It was Clark. Huh... I like that. Clark Kent. It has a ring to it." "Alright then," Jonathan says. "Clark Kent it is."
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justabigassnerd · 3 years ago
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Invisible string
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Pairing - Tommy Shelby x sister!reader
Word count - 2,759
Warnings - mentions of war, angst, mentions of death, swearing
Summary - the night before heading off to war, Tommy promises his youngest sister that they'll always be connected no matter the distance
A/N - coming at you with another Tommy Shelby x sister!reader fic! The inspiration for this came from a book I read to a kid I was babysitting during the summer and I immediately jotted down this idea the second the kid was in bed. I felt like pre-war Tommy needed some love so yeah. I still got a couple more Peaky Blinders fics to write which I'm so sorry for but I love the ideas I have and I want to share them with y'all. As per y'all please send in requests and enjoy the fic!
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One night. That’s all the time the three eldest Shelby brothers had to spend with their two younger sisters, younger brother, and aunt. After all the time away fucking training and preparing for this war, getting told they’re to be tunnellers for the Royal Engineers, they only got one night to say goodbye. It wasn’t fair. John had spent a majority of the evening with his brothers, sisters and aunt but ultimately went home to spend his last night before leaving with Martha and the kids. Tommy and Arthur remained in Watery Lane, wanting to spend their last hours in England with their siblings. Arthur had spent more time playing with you and Finn than he usually did. He wanted to remember the laughs the two of you let out when he gently tossed you onto the sofa before you ran into his arms once for him to throw you again. When you grew tired of the game, Tommy picked you up and held you close as he watched Arthur continuing to roughhouse with Finn under Polly’s watchful eye. Tommy was treasuring every second you were in his sight. It was no secret that you were his favourite sibling, and he was yours, he was the one who looked after you alongside Polly when your mother died, and your father took off. Truth be told, Tommy was terrified of going to fight this war, but he had to, he knew he had to in order to keep you and the rest of his family safe. The posters and world leaders had promised a victory before Christmas, they’d be back within five months if everything went according to plan. Tommy was holding onto hope that the talk of a quick win was true, and he and his brothers would be back with their family before they knew it.
“You alright sweetheart?” Tommy questions gently, feeling your grip on him tighten ever so slightly.
“Tired.” You manage to mumble which causes Tommy to cast a glance over at the clock on the mantlepiece, a frown appearing on his face at the time the clock was displaying. He couldn’t believe it was just past your bedtime. He turned to Polly who could see the hesitance and sadness on his face, he didn’t want to put you to bed because he knew it would be his last time doing so until he returned, if he returned at all. Polly knew Tommy was scared about going away, John and Arthur were too but neither were as worried as Tommy was. Tommy wasn’t overly violent in nature so Polly was nervous about what could happen to him out there. He could either die or come back a different man completely, and she didn’t know which was worse. With silent encouragement, Polly urged Tommy to take you up to bed and that she and Arthur would deal with Finn. Tommy turns and carries you up to your room, pressing soft kisses to your temple as he goes.
When he reaches your room, he pushes the door open with his shoulder carefully and heads inside. When he goes to put you down on the bed, you cling tighter, whining in protest.
“What’s wrong, eh?” Tommy asks gently, ceasing his actions and leaning away slightly so he could see your face. He was heartbroken to see unfallen tears in your eyes.
“I don’t want you to go, Tom. Why are you leaving?” You cry, tears spilling down your cheeks as Tommy pulls you in for a hug, running a hand up and down your back as he shushes you gently. It was no secret to you that your older brothers were leaving, you had seen Arthur trying to sneak downstairs with a bag he had packed ready to take to France with him. He tried to avoid the question you had asked about why he had a bag which led to you asking Polly who in turn told Tommy and said that it would be best for him to tell you the news himself. Tears were shed when he told you, he couldn’t tell you why he, John, and Arthur were going away, he wasn’t going to try to explain war to you, you were too little, and he wanted you to keep your childhood innocence. All you knew is that your brothers were going away, and you didn’t know how long for, and you hated it. Tommy held you as you cried, occasionally shushing you gently or whispering words of reassurance until your tears started to stop. When Tommy heard your sobs become quieter, he pulls away from the hug, pulling his sleeve over his hand slightly and wiping your tears away with the sleeve before pulling you back in for another quick hug.
“Do you want me to tell you something?” Tommy asks, causing you to pull away quickly, bringing a smile to his face when you nod your head vigorously.
“Alright, get into bed and I’ll tell you.” Tommy says, going to put you down once more and this time you squirm out his arms and clamber up on the bed, burying yourself under your duvet and grabbing your rabbit soft toy and cuddling it close to your chest.
“What Tommy?” You question, looking up at him with wide curious eyes as he sits beside you on the bed, his back resting against your headboard as you cuddle into his side.
“Did you know, that even though I’m going away, we’re still connected by an invisible string?” He starts.
“What kind of string?” You ask instantly, intrigued by what Tommy is saying instantly.
“A magic one, it’s made of love, and it means you’re always connected to people you love. You might not be able to see the string, but you can feel it in your heart.” Tommy explains, looking down at you as you look up at him, absorbing every word that comes out of his mouth and taking it as gospel.
“So even though me, John, and Arthur are going away for a while, we’ll still be connected no matter what.” Tommy continues, pulling you closer to his side.
“Will the string reach you while you’re gone?” You question worriedly, not knowing if the magic string your brother is telling you about has a limit on how far it can reach.
“Of course it will. I could be on the other side of the world, and it would still reach me there.” Tommy assures with a smile as you cuddle your rabbit closer to you as you look up at your brother in awe. You had no idea how big the world was but anything outside of Small Heath was miles away to you and the thought of being on the other side of the world to your brother and still be connected through this magical string was mind-blowing to you.
“You’re not actually going to the other side of the world, are you?” Worry seeps back into your voice as you think about your brothers’ words.
“No, no I’m not. You don’t need to worry about where I am. Just know I’ll always be with you no matter what.” Tommy says, squeezing you slightly.
“Because of the string?” You mumble, tiredness obvious in your voice as you rest your head on Tommy’s chest.
“Because of the string.” Tommy affirms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before he noticed your breathing had become deeper, a tell-tale sign that you had fallen asleep. Not being able to bring himself to move and risk waking you, Tommy stayed put, running a gentle hand up and down your back. After a few minutes of Tommy lying beside you, he feels his own eyelids growing heavy and he doesn’t fight them, allowing himself to fall into a peaceful and dreamless sleep.
“Tom, wake up.” Tommy opens his eyes slowly and looks up to see Arthur and John stood in your room, donning their pristine army uniform, and looking from Tommy to you still curled up in his arms. Tommy rubs some sleep from his eyes before turning his gaze down to you, like his brothers but unlike them, Tommy is fighting back tears. He gently worms his way out from underneath you, being careful not to disturb you as you sleep. Once he’s stood up, he makes sure you’re covered by your duvet with your rabbit toy tucked safely under your arm, he knew you’d seek comfort in the toy the second you woke up and found that Tommy, John, and Arthur are gone.
Once Tommy was satisfied you would be comfortable for the rest of your sleep, he followed his brothers out into the corridor.
“Go wait downstairs, I won’t be long.” Tommy says, watching as John and Arthur nod before sneaking downstairs as quietly as they can, avoiding the creaky planks as they go. Tommy heads into his room, grabbing his uniform off its hanger and changing into it. Now changed, Tommy grabs his bag off his bedroom floor and slings it over his shoulder, heading back out into the corridor and as he heads towards the stairs, stopping outside your room and sticking his head in for one final check that you were still asleep and that you were okay. After the final check, Tommy heads downstairs to where his brothers are waiting, and to his shock, Polly is down there too, wiping tears away before turning to address the three brothers.
“You best fucking come back you three. I want each one of you back home when this is over.” Polly instructs in a firm whisper, not wanting to risk waking you, Finn, or Ada. The three men nod, feeling as if they were being scolded for doing something wrong, not being told to come back alive from this war they were being shipped off to. With one final hug from their aunt, Tommy, John, and Arthur leave Watery Lane and head to the train station with the hundreds of other soldiers waiting anxiously to board the train. While most of the soldiers were worrying about their girlfriends or wives and whether they’d be okay without them to protect them. Tommy was worrying about you, he was hoping and praying the story he told you about the string that connected you to everyone you loved would be enough to get you through his departure. He had promised himself he’d write letters to his family as often as he could, but he also vowed to write letters to you and you alone, so you knew he was okay and thinking of you.
As the men all board the train to Dover, Tommy takes a seat by the window, John opposite him and Arthur beside him. Tommy gazes out of the window as the train leaves the station, hoping and praying he’d be back home with his brothers by Christmas.
It would be four years before you saw Tommy, John, and Arthur again but every day while they were gone you held onto the story Tommy told you before he left. You believed the magic string he told you about was keeping you connected to your older brothers while they were away, and you hoped they could feel all the love you were sending their way every day. Even on the hard days when kids at school would call you stupid for believing in such a thing you refused to stop believing, maybe it was silly, but it was the only thing you had to hold onto to stop you from assuming your brothers were dead after you found out that your brothers had gone to war.
The day your brothers came back, there were tears, happy ones of course. John and Arthur had come through the door first, scooping you up and hugging you tight and peppering your face with kisses as you laughed, hugging them back with the same fierceness they were hugging you. The second you saw Tommy, Arthur had to put you down quickly because there was a chance you could’ve injured yourself at the speed of which you hurled yourself at him. Tommy of course showed no hesitation in bringing you in for a hug. The war had changed him massively, he had seen and done things he didn’t want you to ever find out about, so he was determined to at least try to act like the Tommy who left you all those years ago.
“I missed you so much.” You cried into his shoulder, happy tears rolling down your cheeks as you cling to him.
“I missed you too sweetheart.” Tommy whispers in response, allowing a couple of tears to roll down his cheeks as he relishes the feeling of your arms wrapped around his neck. He stands up to his full height with you sitting on his hip before crossing to the sofa, sitting down on it, and smiling slightly when you curl into his side happily. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence, filled only by your sniffles as you try to stop your tears.
“People kept trying to tell me you were dead. I knew they were lying.” You mumbled after you had recovered enough to speak. You hear Tommy hum in acknowledgment but not respond verbally, prompting you to continue speaking.
“I kept thinking about the invisible string you told me about before you left. It’s silly that I still believed in it, but it helped me.” You admit, embarrassed, looking down at the floor. In the four years, the war had lasted you had grown up a lot more than Tommy cared to admit, and you were embarrassed to tell your older brother that you still believed in the story he told you all those years ago. Children had all told you that Tommy’s story was all fake and gave you a harsh reality check regarding where your brothers actually were.
“It’s not silly. When I got homesick, I thought of it too.” Tommy says, he wasn’t telling the whole truth, but he didn’t want you feeling like it was wrong to believe in something to help you through the years he was away. Tommy didn’t think of the invisible string while he was away and found himself homesick. He thought of you and how he needed to be there to look after you when the war was over. He couldn’t die when you were so dependent on him coming back from France. He told you the story of the invisible string to make sure you knew that he’d never be truly gone, alive or dead. Now he was back in Small Heath with you snuggled against his side with his arm wrapped protectively around you. He wasn’t the same person who left Small Heath four years ago, he knew it, John and Arthur knew it, hell, even Polly knew it and he’d only been home about five minutes. Despite all that he knew the one thing that hadn’t changed was the overwhelming love he felt for you.
From the doorway, Polly was watching as Tommy tugged you closer to his side, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he fights to convince himself that he was back home and not in the tunnels in France. Polly smiled softly as she watched the interaction, she knew that adjusting to life after being at war would be no easy feat for any of the men who returned and she found herself grateful that you were there for your brothers, whether you knew it or not, you were a ray of sunshine in their lives and you helped brighten every bad day. She eventually left the two of you in peace, returning to the kitchen to where John, Arthur, Ada, Finn, and John’s kids were.
As Polly left you started to fall asleep, overwhelmed and exhausted by the rush of emotions you had felt seeing your brothers walking through the door, you felt safe and secure in your brother's hold, falling asleep in an instant. Tommy noticed you had fallen asleep and couldn’t stop the small smile appearing on his face at the sight, the memory of you being fast asleep in his arms the night before he left for France flooding back, fighting against the memories of what he went through while he was away. He rests his cheek against the top of your head, staring at the fire as it crackles and spits and for the first time in four years, Tommy feels safe.
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coolcattime · 2 years ago
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I can't quite express the kinda angst I'm in the mood for right now. Like someone who goes away to war and just one day after fighting and surviving again and again just decides to leave. They drop their dog tags and just wander away. No one really knows what happened and they are reported dead. Years later they go back home the war ended and the long age of conflict has changed everyone.
One day they show back up at their home and instead of happiness and relief that they are still alive, they get anger and bitterness. "I mourned for you, i begged for you back every night, and just when i was starting to get over missing you... you just show up here pretending like you didnt leave me here to suffer."
That good selfish anger and angst
So this has very big "Prosecutor Edgeworth chooses death" vibes, which has already put very good angsty vibes in my head.
What you've put down really speaks to tireness as a movition, which is something I don't see often but really really love when it's used, especially when it's done in a situation where it's inhertiatly selfish to do so. ((I would love to tell you my favourite example of this in media, but I refuse to risk spoilers for that game, so I'm just gonna say that this trope can work SO SO well in death game/horror media)).
For this particular prompt, I can very much see this being a Jordan thing, just leaving because he can't do this anymore and needs time anyway from being anyone, though you can probably make the argument with anyone in Mianite. Like there's a real reason Jordan would want to leave, with the amount of pressure and how much that would were a person down, but then there's the people he left behind.
With Jordan gone, there's both the grief and mourning everyone would go through, as well as the fact that he's left a gap in a role that other people need to fill. So when he comes back alive and well, well people aren't exactly greeting him with open arms. The actual line given I'd probably give it to Tom? He definitely would be the one most emotionally effected by Jordan's death (expect Ianite, though I wonder if she would know that he wasn't gone, which would add to the angst that she never told anyone). I think everyone's reaction would be slightly different, with Tom being the most about emotional loss, and probably Capsize being the more pragmantic side of the responsibility that everyone else needed to take on, while they were also mourning (this could probably also be Sonja or Martha, the main reason I say Capsize is that she is kind of unique that I think she's one of the only Mianite characters that liked Jordan the less of any of the champions, and therefore in this kind of situation I think would be the most likely to talk reasonability rather than though anger, if that makes sense).
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let-it-raines · 4 years ago
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I Hope We Never See October (3/?)
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When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.
Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.
Rating: Mature
a/n: Not gonna lie, I forget I'm writing this story, remember, and then the moment I sit down to write, I get called away. But here's part three!
AO3: Beginning | Current
Tumblr: One | Two | Three
-/-
His head is pounding. It’s been awhile since it has pounded like this. Usually, it’s from a lack of sleep from the nightmares or the stress. This morning, he knows it’s from the rum. He did everything he could to cancel it out – coffee, water, food, medicine – but his head is still pounding. He is a bloody lightweight now.
Huh.
Killian is making it sound like that’s a bad thing, when really, it’s good. A week ago he was standing with a beer bottle in his hand early in the morning tempted to drown his entire day away. Last night, he made it the entire day without wanting to get pissed and only had two small drinks to toast his friends goodbye.
That’s progress.
This hangover, though, damn. It’s a sign he’s making progress, but damn.
Or he’s simply getting old, which is something else he doesn’t want to think about.
“Fuck,” Killian moans, pressing his fingers against his temples as he opens his eyes. His neck is also killing him, probably from how he slept on this damn couch all night. He should have driven home, but he didn’t trust himself to. Besides, Ariel had offered the couch before she went to bed.
Emma had too.
He’d nearly left after she offered. She was likely only doing it because she assumed Ariel or Eric already offered. He gets the feeling the woman doesn’t like him, which usually isn’t something that happens with him, and that intrigues him. It also makes him realize how much of an asshole he is.
How has he gotten to a point in his life where he expects women to always fancy his company?
Killian sits up, his muscles aching, and slowly, he rises from the couch. The lights in the house are all off, and he knows he can leave now with no one knowing the wiser that he slept over, that he felt bad enough to not be able to drive home. Or maybe that he didn’t want to spend another night in that giant house by himself.
The floor creaks beneath him with each step he takes, but no one seems to stir. Killian finds a notepad and pen in the kitchen and quickly scribbles a note to Ariel and Eric. He said his goodbyes to them last night, and he’ll talk to them on the phone at some point today. He doesn’t need to stick around to say another goodbye this morning. It’s still early enough that the sun hasn’t risen, and they won’t be up for hours. Killian finishes his note, grabs his wallet and keys from the counter, and heads out the front door to his car. It takes him a moment to find his car, to remember what said of the road they drive on over here, but he eventually spots it across the street under a large tree when a light from the house turns on.
Killian turns to see it’s coming from an upstairs window, and Emma Swan is standing between the curtains. He nods, and he swears he sees the slightest nod in return before the curtains rustle and she turns off the light.
She didn’t get in until two this morning, and she’s up at six. How the hell is she functioning?
Then again, how is he functioning?
Killian’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and after he gets in his Jeep, he checks the message.
Elsa Jones: The girls say thank you for their new Leggo set. My bare feet do not.
Killian laughs and puts his phone back in his pocket. That’s how he’s functioning. He may have flown across an ocean, but he’d never leave Ally and Sophia. They’ve already lost enough, and Liam will have his head, someway and somehow, if he doesn’t do everything he can to make sure all his girls are happy.
To make sure Killian is happy too.
“Bloody hell,” Killian whispers to himself as he cranks the engine, “it’s too early to be thinking like this.”
He should be able to have at least a little reprieve from the voices in his head.
-/-
Killian doesn’t leave the house much over the next few days. He doesn’t have reason to. He’s got everything he could possibly need in the house, including his own private stretch of beach that he walks along a few times a day, but the repetition of nothing begins to drive him mad. He trains in almost the same way as he did when he was playing, and while that takes up a good portion of his day, it’s not enough to keep him occupied. He reads the books that the owners of the house left behind but finds it’s mostly romance novels he can’t stomach. For a day or two, he binges Netflix, leaving a permanent imprint of his ass in the couch cushions, but there’s only so much time he can spend staring at screens.
Elsa and the girls call more than once a day with them being on summer holidays, and he gets a call or two from Scarlet, who finally had the bullocks to ask Belle out to dinner. That was good to hear since Killian has been giving Will shit about doing that for years now, and it’s good to see that people are moving on with their lives.
He’s not, not really, but he’s not trying to move on so much as he’s trying to not be a total disaster every day.
Sitting in this house alone all day every day isn’t helping. Why did anyone think sending him to be alone would be a good idea in the wake of his brother’s death? He knows it’s more so the scum English tabloids would leave him alone and he could fix his public image so he doesn’t go broke before he’s forty from loss of sponsorships and possible opportunities to get involved in the league, but damn, this was a bad idea.
At least he’s not drinking himself to sleep anymore.
Or drinking himself awake. He thinks that feat is slightly more impressive.
Killian puts his bottle of water down and opens the door that leads to the deck. It’s cool out today, the sun hidden behind the clouds, and since he cannot stay here anymore, he decides he’ll go for a run. It’s been years since he ran outside and not on a pitch or a treadmill, but maybe it’ll be a good distraction. He’s noticed more people filling into the houses around him, the summer tourists showing up in large droves now, so at the very least he can pass time watching people while hoping no one watches him.
It takes him little time to get dressed, lace up his trainers, and pop headphones in his ears before he’s out the door. The roads aren’t flat around his house, so he drives the Jeep a few miles until he finds smoother, less crowded ground. Maybe it’s a way to keep him from running that little bit longer, but mostly he knows his knees need the flat surfaces right now.
He really has gotten old, hasn’t he?
Eventually, he finds what looks like a good path behind a long stretch of beach, finds a place to park, and then he starts running.
It’s horrible, which was expected, but he does it anyway. There are families lining the beaches, music playing from speakers and phones, and he watches as boats skip out on the water. Maybe he should rent a boat for a weekend and take it out. It’d be nice to be out on the water again. He hasn’t been since Liam’s death, the fear of something similar happening to him despite the unlikeliness, but maybe one day while he’s here. It’s not as if he has anything better to do.
Killian runs until the endorphins kick in and then again until his legs get tired. He’s an idiot, however, because he doesn’t think to turn around to his Jeep.
Bloody hell.
He stops and reaches his hands over his head, stretching out his shoulders, and looks to see what’s around him. It’s mostly beach, but there are several restaurants and shops a few blocks down. He notices the familiar Blue Dog Tavern sign and the long deck filled with their outside seating. That means he’s minutes away from a populated area of shops and restaurants where he could cool down and catch his breath, but he still walks toward the Blue Dog. There’s another diner around here he went to that was horrible, and he doesn’t feel like taking the chance again. He’s still over his phase of twenty-four-hour diners. He doesn’t think he can handle more sticky tables.
Killian cools down on the walk to the restaurant, taking in the people walking along the sidewalk, and he dodges them until he’s inside and the cool air is hitting against his skin. It’s past the prime of the lunch rush, so the place is mostly empty. He thinks of going to the bar again, but as he wants to stay as out of the way as possible, he asks the hostess to seat him at a booth in the corner.
“Is someone coming to meet you?” she asks, smacking her gum as she hands him a menu.
“I’m afraid not. Just me today.”
She smiles, popping her gum again, and leans forward, casually popping a button on her shirt. Killian tries not to snicker at the obvious attempt, mostly because she is attractive, but the last thing he needs is to burn more bridges at one of the few places in towns he likes. “Well, if you want company, all you have to do is come find me. I’m Marina.”
He raises his brow. “Seems like you were born to work by the ocean then.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because your name is Marina.”
She cocks her head to the side and laughs. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing, love.” Killian smiles and nods toward the front. “I believe you’re needed.”
She jumps and walks away, obviously putting a little sway in her hips when she moves, and in another life, he’d ask her to join him for lunch and meet her after her shift. He nearly does it now, but the man he’s been and the man he’s trying to be war with each other in his mind.
No burning bridges, he reminds himself. He’s done enough of that in his lifetime.
He orders water and coffee and avoids eye contact with Marina as much as possible, especially when she keeps finding ways to come by his table despite there being no other customers in his section. He texts Will and Rob, sends Elsa some pictures of the beach to show the girls, responds to Ariel about him doing another video conference with a hospital back home, and then he puts his phone away and tries to focus on his meal.
Unsurprisingly, it does not take a hell of a lot of focus to eat a sandwich and chips.
The music coming over the intercoms keeps him occupied for awhile, so does the television hanging over the bar until someone changes it to ESPN, and eventually Killian starts fidgeting for headphones and something to do while he waits for his meal to settle and drinks another cup of coffee. He needs to start the trek back to his Jeep, but that’s the last thing he wants to do.
“Heather, I get that you don’t want to be here, but your uncle and your parents want you here. And you either need to take it up with them or start doing some actual work.”
Killian recognizes that voice, and he sinks in his booth. He was hoping to get away with not running into her here today, if only to save himself the headache. He doesn’t have any paper money on hand, so he can’t pay and leave, and he imagines there’s very little chance he’ll avoid her when she’s walking right toward him with Heather, his server from last week.
She’s in those bloody jean shorts again. They barely cover anything and hug her ass to show it off, and the blouse she’s wearing is fitted to her skin. Her hair is down, hitting past midway on her back, and she looks just as gorgeous as she has every other time he’s seen her…which is exactly why he needs her to not notice him.
So, of course, she does.
Right after she teaches Heather how to clean the tables, she looks up and over at Killian, raises both brows, and walks toward him with her arms crossed beneath her chest. “Anything I can help you with today?”
“The check may be nice, Swan. Lovely to see you again.”
“Uh-huh.” She looks over her shoulder, holds up a signal toward Killian’s server, and he hustles to the back, presumably to get the check. “I can recommend other restaurants in the area. This place is great, but I promise there are better ones.”
He shrugs. “I like the food and how calm it is during off hours. Are you enjoying your house with no Fishers in it?”
“I don’t mind when they come to stay.”
It’s a lie if he’s ever heard one. Killian points to his temple and taps. “I know this may surprise you, but I’m actually quite perceptive.”
Her smile is tight, and she tucks her hair behind her ears. “The Fishers are great landlords, and I can’t complain.”
“I’m not going to tell them what you’re saying, love.”
She smiles again, and he can tell she’s still faking it for him. “All I can say is I’m glad not to have strange men scaring me in my kitchen at two in the morning. Now they simply show up at my work.”
He lifts his glass. “It’s good food, and you’re right, I don’t know of many other reliable eateries around here. Some of them seem a little too…made for tourists.”
“And the Blue Dog Tavern doesn’t? I mean, come on. We have a giant blue animated dog cutout outside. We’re on all those lists of ‘Places in Martha’s Vineyard you have to visit.’ We’re made for tourists like you.”
“I am not a tourist.”
“Says the man who is renting one of the big houses out in Edgartown and staying here for the summer. I’m guessing you go to the beach and lounge around the pool and go through way too many of the bad books the owners of the house have on their shelves.”
Killian huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back in the booth. That was a little too spot on. “How do you know where I’m staying? Wait, no. Ariel, right?”
“Yeah,” Emma smiles, and God, it feels like a hell of an accomplishment to get her to smile. “She went on and on about the great Killian Jones.”
“Ah, so you know who I am then?” He leans forward and waggles his brows, flashing his brightest smile.
“Yeah, a rich British tourist who is friends with my landlords.” Someone calls her name from across the restaurant, and Emma holds one finger up. “Your check will be with you soon. I’ll ask Marina to give you some other restaurant recommendations on your way out. You’ll get sick of this place soon enough.”
“I’m perfectly happy with it, Swan.”
She shrugs and walks away, and Killian chuckles to himself. He doesn’t understand this woman at all, but she intrigues him.
He knows that’s a dangerous game to play.
Killian gets the check, pays it, and before he can escape, Marina corners him to give him more recommendations. She ends up veering into bars and clubs on the island and the surrounding towns, asking him if he wants her to show him around, but he declines and takes the list of places. Maybe he’ll check them out, but the last thing he needs is to go to a club. A bar, maybe, but not a club. He’s learned that there’s a hell of a difference.
He’s also learned that he’s bored to tears in this place, and no amount of calls to Ariel and Elsa can solve that boredom. He finds himself googling pre-season training information, checking up on mates and rivals, and while that’s a bit of a slip-up, he does manage to still stay away from looking himself up. He never used to have the urge to google himself or to read any of the tabloids, but ever since his retirement, he’s been curious. Were people sad? Happy? Did he leave any kind of lasting impact? Or did they all just see him as the drunk, washed up old man with a dirtied past?
That is a path he absolutely cannot go down, and since he’s already run a half marathon today, he decides to shower and get dressed to go to one of the places Marina recommended. If his time alone doesn’t start to get less depressing, he thinks he’s going to have to fly back to London and bother Elsa and the girls until they kick him out. He’ll pay for the remaining time on the house, but he won’t be staying there.
While the sun sets, Killian drives down new roads on the island, going to different towns and neighborhoods to see what others are doing, before ending up at a bar near his house. Marina said it was a spot for locals with good food and a quiet energy, so he doubts Marina has ever stepped foot into it. Killian pushes open the old oak door, and the lights inside are dimmed, the music quiet. There’s a guy playing guitar in the corner hidden between two pillars, and Killian finds himself sitting at the opposite end of the bar on a stool that’s cushion squeaks when he sits down.
Charming.
“You eating, drinking, or both?” The bartender asks, wiping his hands off with a cloth.
“Eating. Have any recommendations?”
“You have an objection to seafood?” the old man asks.
“Not a one.”
“Good. I’ll fix you up with the daily catch.”
Killian nods as the man makes his way through a door behind the bar, and then Killian swivels on his stool, looking around the place. He doesn’t know about the food yet, but Marina was right. It definitely has a quiet energy to it. There are people in nearly every booth and at every table, but there’s a hushed tone except for a laugh in the booth nearest him. His eyes are drawn there, and to both his surprise and horror, he finds Emma Swan with her head tilted back with laughter.
Fuck.
She’s definitely going to think he’s stalking her, and as hungry and bored as he is, he’s still tempted to leave. So of course, that’s when Emma stops laughing and looks directly at him.
Bollocks. Utter bollocks.
She blinks and stares at him a little longer, her brows raising before falling, and then she turns back to whoever is sitting in the booth with her. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see her arms moving, but he turns on the stool until he can see her no longer, wishing at the very least he had a water to nurse.
“Hiya. Come sit in our booth with us.”
Killian twists and looks at the brunette who’s now sitting next to him. “Pardon?”
She sticks out her hand, and he takes it, shaking it. “Ruby Lucas. You’re Killian Jones, the – ”
“There’s no need to – ”
“ – the guy who scared Emma half to death at her house in the middle of the night,” Ruby completes, grinning like the cat who ate the canary. “And I must say, you are much more attractive than she described.”
“So she talked about me then?”
“In her own special Emma way.” Ruby tilts her head back toward their booth. “And in my own special Ruby way, I’m inviting you to eat dinner with us. It’s me, Emma, and this super wholesome woman named Mary Margaret who will take you home and bake you cookies while asking you about your childhood because she had a good one of those.”
Killian chuckles, cheeks still flushed from him thinking Ruby knew who he was earlier – he is a pompous, entitled ass obviously – and from being invited to their table. “I couldn’t intrude.”
“I insist that you do.”
He likes her, he decides. She’s stunning and funny with no filter, but she reminds him too much of a dirtier version of Anna. It’s a rather peculiar comparison, but it’s true. It’s also half the reason he agrees to switch tables, rising from his stool and walking toward the booth. The other half a reason is the blonde woman with her face pressed into her forearms against the table top.
She looks beyond thrilled for him to be joining them.
“Oh, Emma, you were right, he is handsome!”
Emma bangs her head into the table as who he presumes is Mary Margaret smiles at him from across the booth. Killian slides onto the seat and elbows Emma’s side before patting her shoulder. “It’s alright, darling. I told all my mates you were beautiful, so we’re even.”
“Go to hell.”
He laughs, grinning at her, and slowly, she peels herself off the table. “Just so you know, I’m only here because Marina recommended it.”
“Remind me to fire her in the morning.”
“So,” Mary Margaret interrupts, tucking her short hair behind her ear, “tell us about yourself, Killian. Where are you from? What do you do for work? How long are you planning on being here?”
“Good God, Marg,” Emma sighs, slumping down, “give the man some room to breathe.”
“What? I’m curious.”
“You’re nosy is what you are,” Emma corrects.
“Aren’t we all?” Killian shuffles in his seat, hoping they move on to another subject, but when Mary Margaret turns to him, he knows she isn’t one to forget. “So, how long are you staying?”
“I have the keys to the house I’m renting until the first of October, but I imagine I’ll leave sooner.”
“And why’s that?” she asks.
Killian shrugs as the man behind the bar drops off a glass of water at the table and tells Killian his food will be ready in ten minutes. “I’m afraid no matter how nice it is here, I don’t know many people. I miss the people I’m closest to. A man can only spend so much time alone.”
“Then why’d you book a house for so long?”
“I needed to get away.”
“Yeah, but – ”
“Marg,” Emma interrupts, placing her hand over her friend’s, “please. You don’t have to know everything about him. Not everyone wants to reveal their entire life to complete strangers.”
She’s right. He doesn’t. But for some inane reason, he doesn’t think he’d mind revealing most of his life to her.
He has obviously lost his damn mind.
But it’s nice to spend a night with other people, to be included in the conversation, and while Mary Margaret and Ruby are delightful, he finds Emma captures his attention, not that this surprises him.
What does surprise him, however, is how much friendlier she is in this environment. He knows it’s her friends and not him, and maybe the glass of wine she had with dinner, but it’s nice to see her laugh freely and blush when Ruby tells stories of Emma he cannot imagine knowing otherwise. He can’t imagine Emma ever scaling a building to break into an ex’s apartment to get her favorite sweater back, but then again, that seems exactly like something she would do if she wanted it badly enough.
He fancies her.
He has no business fancying her, none at all, but when he ends up driving all three women to their homes because Ruby and Mary Margaret had too much to drink and Emma can’t drive the stick shift in Ruby’s car, he accepts Emma’s invitation inside for a cup of coffee.
He also accepts her invitation upstairs into her bed.
To hell with the consequences and burning bridges. He’ll deal with those in the morning when he isn’t so enticed by the trail of freckles running down Emma’s bare stomach.
-/-
-/-
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binch-i-might-be · 3 years ago
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IM GONNA CRY I TYPED AN ENTIRE ASK ABOUT THIS BEFORE AND TUMBLR FUCKED UP YOU PIECE OF SHIT MY BRAIN IS A FUCKING WAR ZONE RIGHT NOW WITH NEURONS SCREAMING AND WHIZZING YOU THINK I CAN ARTICULATE MY MIND ENOUGH TO DO THIS AGAIN???
No but I will ❤️
Okay so I've been thinking™ about the reincarnation au particularly about the one where gwash kills John (fun I know). My brain has been hyperfixating and I've been crying. Serotonin who? Haven't seen that bitch in a month 🥰🥰
So I do need time to properly articulate my thoughts but here's some shit I have so far
Alex practically lives with John for a while after finding him because he needs time to process all this and figure out how to face everything at home
John calling Alex "darling" softly while absolutely clinging to him and Alex almost sobbing and saying "do that again. Call me darling again"
They're all over each other's social medias (also applies for normal reincarnation au. I have some specific posts in mind but will need time to properly think about them and explore them)
God the dynamic between Alex and Gwash is so fucking complicated and so interesting and something I want to explore when my head isn't fucking pounding.
Alex has a Tumblr (fight me on this) and Patsy and Jacky absolutely hunt it down because he's been posting about John and following each and every update and they're just happy for him while they also miss him. They keep Martha and George updated on him from time to time too because they are worried. Not a lot, just that he's alive and fine.
Alex has Trauma from all that and like eventually he's not like in the same place as John for the night (I don't know how to phrase this arghhhh. Does he go back? Where is he? No clue) and he has a nightmare about losing John all over again and straight up panicking. The nightmares aren't unusual ofc it's just they were there for each other during the others. Now Alex is like panic™ and he calls John in the middle of the night and they both fall asleep on the call
John cannot be in the same room as Gwash without sort of freaking out at first.
Okay good night I'm very tired ❤️ (so sorry for this oof)
OH NO 😭 HELLSITE OUR BELOATHED
what a wonderful thing to fixate on /j but yeah I get that! we are nearing the anniversary of me writing bud bloom wither and I mean I was basically fixating on an au about a dead baby for a month straight lmao
ok ok hrhskdhfjf let's go gays
yeah absolutely. he can't be home right now, and he ESPECIALLY can't be away from John right now
OUCH. ALSO YES
yeah!!!! they're annoyingly in love and both of them will just post random pics of the other because like. look??? at their boyfriend??? look how pretty?? b o y f r i e n d (omg feel free to share once you're ready!!)
hhhh yeah it's. fucked. it's fucked! because that's his dad and he loves his dad but 200 years ago he took the most important thing in Alex's life from him. he thinks he can understand why he did it; he wanted to protect him, he always just wanted to protect him, but this is unforgivable. they aren't the same people as they were back then, but still. how is he supposed to move past this. he can't force his boyfriend to make nice with the man who murdered him. he won't.
no you're correct, of course he does! I think Patsy probably already follows him, but she won't give Jack the url until she's entirely certain he's on their side. they're just looking at his incoherent shitposting broken up by rants about how much he loves his boyfriend and going "yeah he's definitely alive" to their parents lmao
awww baby :( baby boy :( maybe they go on facetime and John looks all soft and sleepy and it calms Alex down immediately. meanwhile John wishes he could reach out and wipe Alex's tears :((
understandable! he probably tries to be chill because on some level he doesn't want to admit that he's affected by this, but. no no he cannot be in a room with gwash, he can't.
ahhh get well soon!!!! <33
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terribletoonietuesday · 2 years ago
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Pink Rabbit (2022) Here at Terriblefest and Riot at the movies we have met some very interesting and dare I say strange German filmmakers. None strange in the stereotypical way North Americans would assume either. Which makes them very interesting. Zetkin Yikilmis, who asked me to review her recent self produced film, proves that even more. Pink Rabbit is a very strange film indeed. Zetkin directed and wrote the movie while also starring in it , she even appears as more than one character. That's what you gotta do when you're a self produced film. Though for being such a budget film the lighting, camera work and set design are very good, professional, artistic and consistent. As will come as little surprise a movie called Pink Rabbit is in its most simplistic form a nightmare take on Alice in Wonderland but after that it becomes very unpredictable. The lead character is Marsha who is overworked at her office wanting to get home to see her husband and son but is over tired and over stressed. This is a simple scene but already starts to feel surreal but I am not sure if that's on purpose or not. Marthas boss appears on screen but with no face and his voice seems to come from the sky. Marsha talks to her son on the phone and her son is over-dubbed and says some very odd things, for a child anyways. Again I'm not sure if this is on purpose or not. Everyone in this film is German but they are speaking English.Maybe they should have just spoken German but the odd cadence of speech in this movie was hypnotising to me even if it did make the pace feel very odd. Regardless, the plot only starts to get weird after she leaves her office. That's when she is haunted by the Pink Rabbit. Appearing as a nightmare child and later as a large menacing man. The pink rabbit takes Martha on a nightmare trip into several difference scenarios and worlds all while acting like a large demented magical jester. The Pink Rabbit feels very similar to the clown Stitches (if you know you know) Things get extra weird when Marsha is kidnapped by civil war cannibals (yes you heard that right). One of them is directly referencing the idiot that called himself the Shaman, who raided the White house in that stupid momment in recent history. Seeing that that guy is even known by Europeans should be very embarrassing to Americans. But this is only one of the strange characters Martha would meet. The pink rabbit is basically putting Martha through a game with levels. Seemingly to inspire her and make her stronger but instead just seems to be driving her into damn madness. There are several cute animals in this film but because this movie is so dark deep down while still being silly and funny, be prepared to see awful things happen to stuffed animals when the cute real animals move off screen. Each scene gets weirder than the last and as soon as you think you're getting used to the movie it goes in another direction just to mess with your head. The other thing to take from this is that basically the maker of this film Zetkin wrote this movie to basically beat the living shit out of herself. Each scene in the film has terrible things happen to Martha. By the end she is battered , bloody and bruised. Pink Rabbit is actual art and may suffer from a bit too much deep talking as we witness Martha's suffering but this movie was wild, creative and weird with a title "creature" that is funny as he is scary and weird that I would be interested to see more of.
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serenagaywaterford · 6 years ago
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1) Okay, I'm late (bc rl sucks), but I'm back and I'll gradually address everything. "Also do not feel any pressure to respond to my multiple essays! I understand completely!"The same goes to you, bc I feel like I'm bothering you too much. That being said, I truly enjoy talking to you. Not only you offer fresh/perceptive insights into the characters' minds (which made me a. reconsider scenes and motives, b. wanna rewatch S1 --some scenes you're commenting on are SO fuzzy in my head-- mind you,
2) 2) I’m already rereading the book), but you also provide such hilarious, sarcastic lines (some of them are absolute killers).
3) personalities” I know you have an inkling of who’s who. :D But damn, that ‘lesbianing’ bit had me giggling. Kudos, fellow anon. Since we’re on the subject, I have another question about your fic (if you don’t mind): is it post s2 or s1/s2 canon divergent? b) “Add horrid fangirls to that and it’s a big ass no lol.” Ugh. Fandom smh manages to sour my opinion of characters/ships/series I personally like. Especially when fans start pestering the creators to cater to their whims or harass actors
4) or start ship wars. Double ugh. c) “So, that’s the Mass Effect connection!” Two more similarities: i. Mass Effect’s Miranda Lawson got a lot of fandom hate back then (even though she was a famous character), just like Serena. ii. She has a back-and-forth, bickering (hateful but not THAT complex) relationship with another female character. d) “I have seen Westworld! Well, okay, just the first season. I got too tired/confused to get past the 2nd season premiere.” Oh, sorry. I shouldn’t have
5) assumed. Believe me when I say it’s a good thing you stopped watching when you did. The overall quality of the series remained pretty much the same (e.g. acting, cinematography, direction), but, oh boy, some new plot twists (which I usually like) are SO OVER THE TOP in order to impress (?) the audience. It’s reached a point where some characters are unrecognizable, bc they’re servants to the plot. Maeve has a lot bigger arc in S2 and Newton is thriving (imo, S2!Maeve >> S1!Maeve), but so is
6) Strahovski/Serena. :D e) “don’t go around bitching at people who say shitty things or stuff I don’t agree with, or blocking anybody who doesn’t like her."Ah, another thing we have in common. There were times I’ve been blocked by fandom people (with beautiful edits) that I NEVER interacted with (except for maybe reblogging from each other). That’s not me complaining. Like I said, each to their own.I just find this phenomenon funny at times. Story time. Once, an out of nowhere anon (whose msg I
7) didn’t publish, bc drama is SO not my thing) said they’d block me, bc of an uploaded gifset for a canon pairing (which wasn’t to their taste apparently) that was tagged as #[series]edit (although the ship!portmanteau was right there, too, so that people could easily block it). I remember being like: "Okay. Good for you, anon!” LOL. f) “I dunno if you see spoilers but there’s one about them.) She needs therapy so much more than a cutesy feelgood storyline.” I did NOT actually, but feel free to8) enlighten me.
——–
I am sort of back! (RL does get in the way of incredibly lengthy essays about fictional TV shows!) NO APOLOGIES NECESSARY!! I am just so happy I get to read all these excellent thoughts, analyses, and feelings you have! (and that we clearly share lol, including the sheer amusement of your writing!). I really want to write more at the mo but my hands are doing that weird old lady thing where you can see the veins popping out and it makes me v uncomfortable to look at. Especially since I have little baby hands. I hate it.
Ok, I’m now kneeling on the floor and the computer is on the kitchen island. This is better. I cannot see the top of my hands. 
SO. Where was I? OW. my kneeeessss. This is a bad idea.
I’m so lost. Fic question. right. It’s post-S2. Like… quite post-S2. I didn’t even deal with HOW or WHY June is back in the Waterford’s house tbh cos I can’t be bothered to sort that out. (Thanks, show.) So, it just assumes that for some reason, she’s back. Which, if the BTS pics/video is to be believed, that’s the case anyway. 
Fangirls (and boys ofc) ruin so much for me. Even if I like the same thing initially. Ugh. Then sometimes they’ll annoy me so much that I end up liking the complete opposite of what they like. Dunno why.
No worries about Westworld! It’s a reasonable assumption! Please don’t apologise, my friend. I do agree that Thandie was very good in S1. IIRC, her character was my fav (other than Clementine lol). Yvonne S2 was just next level shit to me. Like, what you’re saying makes me wanna give S2 WW another shot but when shows get overcomplicated, they’re not much fun anymore when I’m like “BUT WHAT IS HAPPENING LOL”. 
>> “There were times I’ve been blocked by fandom people (with beautiful edits) that I NEVER interacted with (except for maybe reblogging from each other)”
EXACT SAME. It was actually in THT fandom most recently lol. Like, I reblogged one of their pretty edits once. Ever. I didn’t even say anything snarky or bitchy or rude in tags. I don’t think I added any commentary at all. Next thing I know? BLOCKED. Never interacted with them in any way whatsoever. (Typical N/J fangirl lol.) It’s the strangest behaviour and it’s that kind of thing that sours me towards sects of fangirls, and sometimes even the characters they like. Maybe that’s just petty but I think it actually just reinforces pre-existing feelings I had towards the character or pairing.) The only blogs I block are ones that are gross, RP, or spam. (RP blogs is a long history of them stealing and spamming and adding awful commentary to my posts way back in the day, so I just… block em. lol.)
>> “they’d block me, bc of an uploaded gifset for a canon pairing (which wasn’t to their taste apparently) that was tagged as #[series]edit (although the ship!portmanteau was right there, too, so that people could easily block it). I remember being like: “Okay. Good for you, anon!” LOL.”
Oh. My… WHAT. There’s a very odd sense of entitlement here that seems so peculiar to me. Like, that’s what the blacklisting feature is for? I’ve put every version of my most despised pairings, characters, etc. and it works? Very rarely does it miss on. I guess we’re just dramaphobic, mature old fandom farts. Like, “Kids, let me sit you down and tell you about this site before you could block things. Before even XKit was invented…” Not to mention every other website ever lol.
HOLY GROSS… I just got up and a centipede fell off me!! WHYYYYYY. THIS IS WHY I DON’T SIT ON THE FLOOR. (we live near the beach/woods so we get lots of bugs no matter how clean we are…) no more painful kneeling for me i guess…
OKAY. Spoilers. It’s not much but other than the June in Martha costume (which was shown in the teaser Superbowl trailer anyway by now)… there were set pics of Emily, Sylvia, Nicole, and Luke all happy and smiling. IIRC. I can’t find the post anymore. So it may not have been in character. But I dunno… it all seems… too easy? Like, I’m glad Emily is safe but omg. She’d better not be all hunky dory “I stabbed a lady and threw her down the stairs, murdered another, and ran a dude over with a stolen car, but now I’m Canada, I’m all healed!” (Not including the heart attack/crotch kicking here cos that was fair play to Emily. She deserved that.) Like, honestly, as much part of me was like YESSSS at all of those, still… that’s grievous bodily harm with intent to kill, flat out murder, and vehicular manslaughter. For Emily to do those things, you don’t do those crimes without being really broken and damaged. And… yeah. That doesn’t magically disappear when you hop over a border.
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