#royal pains week 2024 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

reilemon · 28 days ago

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♥︎Amore Immortale♥︎ Ch. 1

♡︎ synopsis: A simple foraging trip takes an unexpected turn when you wake up in a mansion hidden deep in the forest. Now four captivating men are nursing you back to health, but their intentions—and identities—are a mystery.

♡︎ pairing: vampire!Xavier, vampire!Zayne, vampire!Rafayel, vampire!Sylus x fem!reader (separately and together)

♡︎ cw: depictions of head injury and fever

♡︎ tags: vampire au, slow burn (-ish), eventual romance, eventual smut, eventual polyamory

♡︎ word count: 4.3k

♡︎ a/n: the first chapter of the sixth and final story for kinktober 2024. I wanted to finish off kinktober with a gang bang, but I got carried away and now this is going to be a multi chapter story. I hope you'll like this one.

♡︎ Thanks to my dearest friend and beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for helping.

divider by @cafekitsune

"Poor little bunny." The blue eyed man coos as he find the source of the sudden loud noise - you. The clumsy human probably slipped and fell when the sky opened and heavy rainfall started. He carefully scoops you in his arms, with your head resting on his shoulder.

A small whine barely hits his ears and he catches the moment you briefly gain consciousness. He softly chuckles when he hears your silly question before passing out again. He ignores how a little of your blood is mixing with the rain on the fabric of his coat and starts walking away.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

Your eyes flutter open, heavy and bleary. You adjust slowly to the dimness around you, the fireplace in front of your bed the only source of light. The ceiling looms high - a ceiling you don’t recognize. The walls are covered in wallpaper, worn and peeling in places. You don’t recognize that wallpaper either. The royal purple catches the dim firelight, a color you could never possibly afford.

You shift against the bed beneath you, the silk sheets cool and smooth against your skin. Over you is a heavy wool blanket, its weight like a comforting presence. A low groan escapes your lips as you rise and rest on your elbow. The room is beautiful, with expensive furniture, but there is this dormant energy to it.

You glance at the thick velvet curtains covering the window. The sliver peeking in the corner shows you a glimpse of the outside world. It’s nighttime, the downpour relentless, drops thrumming against the glass.

‘The rain!’

You sit up abruptly, a sharp pang of pain zapping through your skull, making you wince and press your fingers to your temple. Your fingers try to rub the pain away as you lean on your other arm to rest. Right, the rain. After closing up the bookstore, you've gone to the forest to search for some mushrooms and sweet chestnuts. A hearty dinner and sweet dessert would be a great start of your two week long vacation. The last visitor commented how their elbow hurt which meant a thunderstorm is coming. You politely smiled and packed up their books. You should've listened to their elbow.

Now, staring around this unfamiliar room, unease twists in your stomach.

‘Where the hell am I?’

Right on cue, the door creaks open, and a tall, raven haired man steps into the room. He pauses in the doorway as his eyes meet yours.

“Hello,” he says, his voice smooth and deep. “How are you feeling?”

You swallow, his presence suddenly making you aware of the mess you must look. Embarrassment prickles your skin, and you rub your temple, trying to compose yourself, only to see his brows knit with concern.

“Um, I’ve been better,” you manage, forcing a chuckle. The grogginess in your voice doesn’t help the embarrassment. You smooth a hand over the blanket, feeling a little exposed. “Why am I here?”

“My friend found you,” he explains, “Out in the forest, just before the storm. You most likely slipped on the mud and hit your head.”

He nods towards your forehead, then reaches for a small, gold hand-mirror resting on the bedside table. The antique metal glints softly as he holds it, and you take it with a hesitant hand. As you lift it to inspect your reflection, you catch a small bruise just above your brow, the skin tender and slightly swollen. Considering the circumstances, you think, it could’ve been much worse.

The man, whose name you still haven’t learned, clears his throat. “I was the one who changed you into dry clothes,” he shifts in his seat, averting his gaze briefly before meeting your eyes again. “For that, I apologize. I wouldn’t have done it if there were any other choice.”

You shake your head with a small, reassuring smile. “It’s fine, really. If you hadn’t, I’d probably be shivering with pneumonia right now.”

His expression softens with relief. “I’m glad you understand. I would still like to listen to your lungs, Would you be comfortable with me examining you?” then he adds, “I’ve been in the medical field for quite some time, I assure you.”

Something about his demeanor, calm and controlled, makes him look trustworthy. And considering how thoroughly he must have tended to you—removing every speck of mud, leaving you dry and warm in a comfortable bed—it’s clear he has your wellbeing in mind. You nod. “Of course.”

He gives a curt nod and shifts closer to the bed. “You don’t need to do much, just sit as comfortably as you can,” he murmurs, the calm, low timbre of his voice steadies you. The shirt you wear—a loose button-up clearly meant for a man—hangs loosely over your shoulders, open at the collar. Suddenly, you feel the pulse of your own heartbeat, wondering if he might hear it already. His hand moves lightly over the fabric, as he leans closer, and then he places his ear gently against your chest, just above your heart.

The moment feels both entirely professional and so intimate. You tell yourself that this is completely normal, this is the usual routine. But he is not your doctor, and you can’t shun the butterflies you feel from having a handsome stranger resting his head on your chest. His hair, thick and dark, grazes your collarbone as he listens, his breath warm against your skin. Your heartbeat, which you’re certain must be thudding wildly beneath his ear, betrays you, a deep flush creeping up your cheeks as you try to steady yourself.

“Breathe in deeply for me,” his voice a soft murmur, his cheek brushing against you.

You comply, feeling his presence with every rise and fall of your chest. When he shifts, his head moves closer to your collarbone, the tickling brush of his hair sending a wave of goosebumps along your chest. You’re conscious of every small movement, every slight intake of his breath.

He shifts back a little, his hand grazing your shoulder as he adjusts to press his ear against your back. “One more time,” his tone is still composed, though you’re unsure if you catch a hint of restraint.

You breathe in, slowly, deeply, feeling the warmth of his palm on your shoulder. He holds still for a moment longer, listening intently. Then, he slowly pulls back, settling into his seat with a neutral expression.

“You do have a small fever,” he calmly states. “Although, there are no signs of anything serious.” He offers a faint, almost apologetic smile. “You should lie back down and rest.”

Your cheeks are warm, and not just from the fever. You nod and do as you’re told, sinking under the comforting weight of the blanket. The man briefly explains that you were unconscious for around two hours, and that your clothes are being washed.

You nod again, processing the details. “Thank you… that’s all very considerate of you.”

He offers you a faint smile. “It’s the least we could do.”

He rises from his seat and steps toward the door, his hand resting on the brass knob. “I need to check on my friend in the kitchen. There may be a fire to manage. And I’ll bring you some herbal tea.”

You chuckle. “Well, thank you, Dr…?”

A flicker of amusement lights his eyes as he opens the door, pausing for a moment. “Just call me Zayne.”

You tell him your name in return, and with that, he’s gone with the soft click of the door.

After Zayne leaves, the room slips into an almost eerie quiet. You prop yourself up against the plush pillows, trying to get comfortable despite the persistent ache in your muscles and the dull throb in your head. The room feels larger now that you’re alone. Every detail catches your attention—the thick velvet drapes, the intricate patterns on the worn wallpaper, the faint smell of stale air. You’d get up to investigate the room or try to figure out more about where exactly you are, but your body protests with every small movement. So you have to settle for gazing around the space instead, picking out details you hadn’t noticed before. The furniture is old but well-kept, the kind that belongs in a property far grander than any home you’ve ever been in. This place—it’s not like the humble cottages back in your village. No, this is different. Larger. More isolated. Somewhere far from the familiar streets you walk every day.

A shiver crawls down your spine at the thought of how far away you could be from your home. You’ve never ventured beyond the edge of the forest. You’ve heard stories about the other side. It was always whispered between older folk who’d lived through enough strange events to keep their superstitions alive. Vampires, werewolves, creatures of the night. They’d mention them, always in passing, as though acknowledging them would draw something out of the shadows.

At first, you’d dismissed it. What else could it be but old folklore? Some scary tales to spice up their lives, stories passed down from generation to generation. Something for them to talk about when the nights grew long and dark, to keep the children from misbehaving. Those creatures don’t exist. You were certain of that.

Or, at least, you had been.

You replay the events in your mind, trying to make sense of it all. Zayne said that his friend found you unconscious in the woods. They’d brought you here, tended to your injuries, and kept you warm. His behavior had been nothing but kind, gentlemanly even.

But then, why does your skin prickle as you think of him?

What if he is one of them? The pale complexion, the unnerving quiet, the way he’d moved with such elegant grace. And those eyes... there was something about the way he looked at you. Your pulse quickens. You try to reason with yourself—if this man, Zayne, were a vampire, wouldn’t he have done something by now? You were unconscious and vulnerable. He could have easily taken advantage of that moment, but he hadn’t. He’d taken care of you.

But what if... what if this is all part of some darker plan? You swallow hard, trying to silence the growing paranoia. What if they want to keep you here? What if, right now, they’re simply playing a long game, to coax you to be their little blood doll—

‘Stop.’ You force yourself to take a deep breath, trying to calm your spiraling thoughts. There’s no proof, no reason to believe that Zayne—or anyone else—is anything other than a human.

You glance toward the window. Your body feels like lead at the moment, but tomorrow you will probably be well enough to leave. The storm can’t go on forever.

A sharp knock on the door pulls you from your thoughts.

"Come in," you manage, your voice wavering just a little.

Zayne steps in, balancing a tray of a delicate ceramic tea set. The gentle clink of porcelain against porcelain brings comfort to your senses. Behind him, another figure slips into the room—a man with handsome, soft features. His tousled, blonde-gray hair looks like it would be soft to the touch. And his eyes, though shadowed by the dim lighting, have a dreamy quality, like someone lost in thought.

A faint smell of something burnt drifts into the room, cutting through the soothing scent of the herbal tea. You can’t help but frown a bit at the scent, but neither man acknowledges it. Zayne places the tray on the small bedside table, the teapot steaming. The air feels warmer now, not just from the tea.

The second man steps forward, offering you a polite nod, “Hello.” he says, his voice silky and mellow. “I’m Xavier, the one who found you.”

His soft smile makes your heart stir. It takes you a beat to find your voice to introduce yourself.

“Thank you… for, well, rescuing me,” you say with a shy smile.

Xavier gives a gentle shake of his head, his smile widening. “Why were you so deep into the forest with a storm on the way?” he asks, his tone feels almost like teasing.

You chuckle nervously as you feel the faintest flush of embarrassment creep up your cheeks. “I – Well, I wanted to gather some things for dinner,” you admit. “It’s my first real break from work, and I may have gotten a little too excited.”

His gaze lingers on you for a moment, as if he’s trying to fully take you in.

“You’re lucky he was done fishing at the time.” Zayne adds as he hands you a cup of tea. His fingers brush lightly against yours as you accept it, deepening the flush on your cheeks. You are lucky to be here. Even though you’re sitting in a room with two men who are strangers, they still have cared for you with such tenderness. You could feel their warmth in every gesture, in every word. It’s hard to hold onto fear when faced with such care. Even now, you can feel yourself relaxing, the tension in your shoulders unwinding.

You take a sip of tea slowly, trying to mask the strange tide of emotions flooding through you. You had been so afraid, so convinced of something dark lurking beneath the surface. But now, in this quiet moment, with the warm tea in your hands and their watchful eyes on you, you feel strangely safe.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

The clock on the mantel ticks softly, the brass hands showing it’s almost 1 a.m. The fire burns low, casting a warm, flickering glow over the room. Your eyelids feel heavy now, the weight of exhaustion settling deep in your bones. You turn onto your side, pulling the duvet tighter, forming a cocoon around you. The warmth, the softness—everything lulls you closer to sleep. But your mind drifts, recalling the conversation with Xavier after he’d brought you dinner.

He’d placed the bed tray gently over your lap, making sure everything was within reach. Before he turned to leave, the sound of your voice stopped him.

“Did you manage to catch anything?” you asked, your voice quiet but curious.

Xavier had looked confused for a moment, then his face lit up with a soft smile. “I did. Fried a few, but Zayne didn’t let me serve it to you.” He chuckled. “Said he didn’t want you choking on a bone.”

You laughed too, the sound easing the leftover tension you’ve been holding. That explained the faint burnt smell that had lingered earlier, and why Zayne had to rush to the kitchen.

“And don’t worry,” he added. “I brought back your basket too. Everything’s intact.”

You were about to thank him, but then an image flashed in your mind—a fleeting memory of him, his hair wet and clinging to his face. The moment felt so vivid, so real, that it stopped you mid-thought. You stared at him, squinting slightly.

“What’s wrong?” His voice softened with concern, his brows furrowing.

You shook your head quickly, flustered for being caught staring. “Nothing… it’s just—did I say something to you? When you found me?”

Xavier hesitated, his lips twitching as though trying to suppress a grin. He glanced to the side, his hand coming up to cover his mouth, but his eyes gave him away. “Oh no…” you said, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks. “Was it something embarrassing?”

“No,” he replied, though the gleam in his eye said otherwise. “It was cute.” He paused, then looked back to you, “You opened your eyes for a moment, and asked me, ‘Are you my prince?’ Then you passed out again.”

Your heart practically leapt into your throat, your face instantly flushing. “Oh, that’s definitely embarrassing,” you groaned.

Xavier laughed then, his voice soothing. “Don’t worry, I’ve been called worse.”

And just as you wished for the shadows to come alive and swallow you, Zayne entered, saving you from further humiliation. He brought you a bowl filled with ice and a cloth. You thanked both of them, adding that you planned to leave in the morning.

Their faces changed for a heartbeat when you said that, though you didn’t miss it. It wasn’t worry exactly, more like hesitation, as though they weren’t entirely convinced you would be gone by morning. Or perhaps… that they didn’t want you to be.

That thought lingered now, swirling in your mind as your body sank deeper into the mattress. Their kindness, their calmness—they made you feel safe, soothed the fears that had gripped you earlier. Yet, there was something unspoken between the three of you.

A sigh escapes your lips. You can feel sleep creeping over you, warm and heavy, pulling you under. The memory of Xavier’s reassuring smile and Zayne’s attentive gaze lingers in your mind, their faces blurring at the edges as your thoughts dissolve into a haze.

They are both so kind. And so handsome.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

A low whine escapes your lips before you even open your eyes. The ache in your body is heavy and relentless. Every muscle protests as you shift, but you force your eyelids open. The room is warm, the fire crackling faintly in the hearth. Someone must’ve light it while you were still asleep.

‘I said I’d leave in the morning.’ You glance over at the clock—it’s 11 a.m. That’s not really morning, but it is time for you to leave. If only you felt better.

You wince as you slowly, painfully, push yourself out of bed. Your legs feel weak, your body sluggish, like you’re moving through water. Every movement sends a wave of soreness through your bones, but you grit your teeth and push through. You don’t want to linger here any longer than you have to.

Grumbling under your breath, you stagger toward the door, your feet barely shuffling across the hardwood. You’re still dressed in the warm clothes Zayne gave you, though they feel a little too big now. You’ll just ask for your things and be on your way. You’ll return their clothes once you fully recover.

Goosebumps spread all over your skin as you open the door, the chill air of the hallway shocking your senses. It is completely quiet, only the soft creak of the floorboards under your slippers breaking the silence. More doors sit along the hallway, likely bedrooms as well. You glance at them briefly, but you step towards the staircase ahead. The polished mahogany wood gleams faintly, and you internally groan at the thought of making it down the steps in your current state.

You’re about to take your first step when—

“Hey!”

The voice comes out of nowhere, stopping you in your tracks. You freeze, your heart jumping in your chest as footsteps echo from above, growing louder as they approach. Turning, you find yourself face-to-face with a man descending the stairs. He’s tall and moves with an almost feline grace. His hair is gorgeous - messy curls of muted violet and his eyes, an unusual blend of blue and pink, are sharp and full of curiosity. His plump lips are pulled in an amused smirk.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice is teasing, though there’s a touch of disapproval in it. His arms cross over his chest, as he takes in your disheveled state.

You blink at him, still trying to shake off the fog in your head. “I - I need to leave.”

He narrows his eyes, looking you up and down. “You should stay in bed,” he says firmly, stepping closer. “You look like you’re about to collapse.”

He is right, you do feel like you’re about to collapse, yet you can’t help but notice how striking he is. His hair, his eyes, even the way he moves—it’s all captivating. But you force those thoughts away, shaking your head slightly. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

He uncrosses his arms, offering a small smile that’s both charming and a little smug. “Oh, right. I’m Rafayel.” His voice dips slightly, your name falling from his lips. “I’m staying here too. Zayne told me what happened.”

You blink again, taken aback by how easily he says your name. You hadn’t expected to meet another guest in the house. “Rafayel,” you repeat.

He nods, brushing a hand through his unruly curls. “Yeah. I took care of your clothes. They’re drying in my room,” he adds. “It’s still raining, though, so they might take a while.”

At his words, you pause and listen. Sure enough, you hear the soft, steady patter of rain against the windows. You’d been so focused on leaving that you hadn’t even thought to check the weather. ‘Of course it’s still raining.’ You sigh inwardly, frustration and weariness settling in your chest.

“What about Zayne and Xavier?” you ask, hoping to at least get some help from them.

Rafayel smirks, shaking his head. “They’re sleeping.”

You frown. “Sleeping?”

“Yup,” he says with a shrug, almost dismissive.

Your mind races. You know why you are up so late, but why are they still sleeping. Your mind is about to wander to that corner again, but you stop yourself. ‘They must’ve been exhausted from taking care of an injured stranger.’

Still, the unease lingers. Rafayel’s gaze flickers over you, his eyes softening slightly as if sensing your discomfort. “Look,” he says, his voice gentler now, “you really don’t look like you’re in any shape to leave. Why don’t you rest a bit longer?”

You hesitate, your body aching with every breath, the fatigue weighing you down with each second. He’s right. You’re not ready to leave yet.

Rafayel’s eyes hold yours for a moment. “You’re safe here,” he adds softly.

Just as Rafayel is about to steer you back toward the bedroom, another voice cuts through the air, deep and teasing, with a velvety edge that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Is that the lost kitten?”

You look down the stairs, and there he is. The man who appears next makes the very air around you seem heavier. He’s taller than the other men, with strikingly sharp features. His white hair is tousled yet elegant, and his eyes - a deep, mesmerizing wine-red, lock onto yours with an intensity that makes your stomach flutter.

Before you can even react, the man is standing right in front of you, his height towering over you. You can’t help but gawk, unable to stop yourself from tracing every detail of his sharp jawline, the way his lower lip looks so plump and soft.

Rafayel’s voice, sharp with annoyance, snaps you out of the trance. “You know her name, Sylus.”

But Sylus just smirks. He takes your hand, his fingers long and strong, enveloping yours completely. Your breath catches in your throat as the warmth from his touch sends heat rippling through your body. His hand is so much larger than yours, making you feel almost fragile in his grip.

“My name is Sylus. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Your name drips from his lips, and he bends forward and presses a tender kiss to the back of your hand. The sensation of his cool lips against your flushed skin sends tingles across your arm. You can’t help but blush under the attention.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Rafayel roll his eyes, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips. “You’re shameless.” he mutters, though there’s a playful lilt to his voice.

Sylus simply laughs, a low, rich sound, before releasing your hand. With a light touch on your back, Rafayel guides you back toward the bedroom, his hand steady and firm against you. Sylus trails behind, watching with an amused expression.

When you’re back in the bedroom, Rafayel’s hands gently but insistently push you down by the shoulders, guiding you to sit back on the edge of the bed. “Seriously,” you protest, exasperated, “I feel better already! I don’t want to be a burden.”

Sylus leans lazily against the doorframe, his arms crossed, a smirk dancing on his lips as he watches the scene unfold. "You look much too cute to be any kind of burden, kitten," he says, his eyes fixed on you.

Before you can say anything else, Rafayel presses you back into the blankets, his firm but gentle insistence impossible to resist. As you sink back into the bed, Sylus pushes off from the door and approaches with an almost predatory grace. The teasing glint in his eyes fades slightly as he crouches beside the bed, his expression softening as his hand reaches out to press against your forehead. His touch is cool—no wonder, since the rest of the mansion is freezing—and the sensation sends a refreshing chill through your heated skin.

“You still have a fever.” he murmurs, his thumb brushing lightly against your temple.

Rafayel shakes his head, giving you a disapproving look. “See? You’re in no condition to leave. I’ll prepare you tea and breakfast.”

Your protests die on your lips as Sylus pulls away, his touch lingering on your skin. Both men turn around and leave before you can say anything else.

The door shuts softly behind them, leaving you alone once again. You sink deeper into the bed, your body heavy with exhaustion. Your thoughts swirl, still caught in the lingering effect of their presence. You turn on your side, facing the window, staring at the thick velvet curtains that block out the view of raindrops racing down the tall windows. As much as you want to leave, as much as you should leave, you know your body isn’t ready. The fever might not be severe, but it’s enough to weaken you. Slipping away now—especially into the woods with no clear path—feels like a death wish.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips. For now, the best option is to rest and regain your strength. You can’t deny how safe their presence makes you feel, even if you don’t fully understand why. Something about them pulls you in, something more than just their looks.

You close your eyes, letting the exhaustion pull you under.

#love and deepspace #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #zayne love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #xavier smut #zayne smut #sylus smut #rafayel smut #love and deepspace smut #lads smut #sylus x reader #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #rafayel x reader

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jbaileyfansite · 3 months ago

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Ariana Grande interviews Jonathan Bailey for VMan Magazine (2024)

Jonathan Bailey’s acting career began at the age of eight when the prestigious Royal Shakespeare Company cast him in a role coveted by all little boys who like musicals: Gavroche in Les Miserables. Since then, he’s starred in contemporary plays, refined his iambic pentameter flow via several Shakespearian productions, and, in 2019, won the Laurence Olivier Award for Best Actor in a Supporting Role for his work in the gender-swapped revival of Company. In other words, Bailey is a theater nerd.

This made his upcoming role as Fiyero Tigelaar in the movie adaptation of the Broadway hit, Wicked, all the more unbelievable to him. Over Zoom, with co-star Ariana Grande, Bailey admits that he’s only recently had the space to fangirl over the reality that he’s playing the lead in a musical that rocked his world when he first saw it at the age of 15. Tuning in from Thailand, he and Grande chat about his upcoming project, another adaptation, Jurassic Park, and the memories of Oz that he (reportedly) carries in his pocket.

Ariana Grande: Hi, good morning. What time is it for you?

Jonathan Bailey: It’s 8am. Feeling pretty fresh.

AG: You look beautifully fresh. Just for context, for people reading, Johnny, you’re currently in Thailand. What are you up to over there?

JB: I’m on a really long holiday in the jungle, pretending to run away from fake dinosaurs… Um, no, I’m filming Jurassic Park. And there are massive links between it and Wicked because it’s got so many of the same crew.

AG: Yes!

JB: The bereavement of leaving Wicked behind has been sort of solved by the fact that so many of them are still here. So, I’m keeping the Wicked dream alive, but with dinosaurs.

AG: That’s so beautiful. You’re so lucky to have a little piece of Oz with you still every day.

JB: I carry Oz in my pocket.

AG: Yes. How is it going?

JB: I am loving it. We’re doing a whole new version of the Jurassic Park franchise.

AG: What can you say about your character, about this new franchise?

JB: I can say that it’s written by David Koepp, who wrote the original. It feels like it’s in ultimate hands to bring it back to what the original achieved. (Jurassic Park) was the first film I went to see with my whole family, and I was way too young, I was terrified. There is a similarity between doing this and Wicked, I also saw the original run of Wicked in London.

AG: I would love to touch on Fellow Travelers, which was such an emotional and expansive project. What was the process of taking on a character like Tim, whose story is told over several decades?

JB: Fellow Travelers will always be something that I’m incredibly proud of. For me it [was] the most fulfilling creative, emotional, and spiritual thing I’ve done. Tim and Hawke (leads in Fellow Travelers) are allegories. So many men that lost their lives. It’s never lost on me, all the other actors that couldn’t come out or were vilified for being caught having sex in toilets. All the horrific ways in which a pure thing like man-on-man love has been misconstrued.

AG: It was absolutely palpable.

JB: I had this amazing weekend in Bangkok and I met this group of Malaysian dudes who were just so brilliant. They were doctors and they were really bright, intelligent, kind, sweet men who were having such a brilliant time. We ended up having dinner and, after a few drinks, they were telling me that they come over from Malaysia to Bangkok because they can’t be out to their families.

AG: My God.

JB: It’s so painful.

AG: I was gonna say, this leads us beautifully into The Shameless Fund, your foundation that you launched actually this week, congratulations. How does it feel that it’s finally out there in the world?

JB: It’s been a labor of love for about two years. When the second series of Bridgerton came out, I was suddenly aware of an increased platform, especially the fact Bridgerton is viewed in multiple territories where being gay is different. So, I just sort of fused the two together—

AG: It’s a beautiful way of making sense of it all.

JB: Thank you for being an icon and an ambassador for the Shameless Fund.

AG: I’m so proud of you and I love you and your heart so much. Okay, moving on. I was wondering what things have helped you recharge your human battery?

JB: I’ve adapted my life slightly. I don’t live in a city anymore, I do a lot of swimming and gymnastics, which is something that I’ve done [since] I was younger. I [also] think it’s friends, which I know is such a sort ofeye roll [answer]. I’ve got amazing friends, they’ve always been there and I’ve been friends with them for so long.

AG: And me, for 2 years.

JB: I’ve spiritually known you for 20 years.

AG: Yeah, 100. Let’s move on to Wicked. How did you prepare for the role of Fiyero?

JB: I mean, it’s a complete dream come true. The preparation started when I listened to the soundtrack when I was like 15. And I remember viscerally; it sent ripples through culture. Also, I remember hearing the orchestration. I hadn’t really heard the synth-meets-full-orchestra-meets-syncopation.

Something about it just completely grabbed me. My best friend from school, me and him went to go and see it together—we were soulmates through school. And it was so funny that, like, two lads just went with it. I think the themes of Wicked have probably expanded, and that’s what I’m really excited about with the film.

AG: Yeah, it feels like it needs to be now more than ever before, perhaps.

JB: I went to go meet Jon (Chu, director). We chatted for about two and a half hours and it was really emotional. The one thing that we talked about with Fiyero: everything is so easy to him. How do you tell the story of someone who seemingly doesn’t care? What’s he frustrated by? We discussed it and found quite a human thing, I think. And, obviously, with our film, it represents extreme privilege and it’s about his bubble needing to pop.

AG: I think our characters share that in a big way, Elphaba comes along and pops both of our bubbles. Perhaps for the first time we both are able to look at things differently. And it’s not that we’re not loving, heartful people. It’s just that we’ve never had to look outside of what affects us until we meet her.

JB: Exactly. And anyway, it was Jon. Basically, the answer to every question about Wicked is Jon Chu. Don’t you think?

AG: Yeah, I do. I think we were very spoiled to have done this with him. It felt like a teeny, little secret student thing—its intimacy. It felt so small and private until all of a sudden, we were outside, and the Daily Mail was hand gliding over our set—oh, he should play the pterodactyl in your film.

JB: I think he’s actually hovering over right now.

AG: Can you explain what this was, please?

JB: It was a man on a massive kite, floating around with his legs hanging down.

AG: I couldn’t believe my eyes. Well, firstly because I don’t have the best eyes. But secondly, because there’s no way. There’s no way! I was like, ah, guy on a hand glider.

JB: With a GoPro. With a GoPro on his toes.

AG: With a GoPro on his toes. Was your experience filming Wicked at all what you expected it to be?

JB: There were certain elements of it that I was incredibly impressed by and I think that is because of the love and care of Mark Platt and Jon Chu. Obviously we’ve grown up loving theater and musical theater, I always felt attached to that wonderment. I think my expectation might have been that somehow in the making of something, you lose that. But we were on those incredible sets.

AG: Oh my gosh. Best in the world.

JB: I think I was in Wicked fan survival mode for the last 18 months. I’m starting to really get excited about it.

AG: It takes a certain amount of time to grieve something like that. I mean you’re already in Thailand and a whole different person, but it’s interesting how it takes a while and then it hits you.

Source

#jonathan bailey #ariana grande #wicked #wicked movie #fellow travelers #jurassic world rebirth #jurassic park #interviews #interviews:2024 #vman magazine interview 2024 #vman magazine #NEW!

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failing-to-write-again · 29 days ago

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Bloody Gift Exchange 2024

Hi @cakeemoji I hope you like the fic. I chose Shu from your list of liked characters as I felt I could do my best with him. I tried to blend some of the trends of the audio cds and games when Shu has his softer moments.

Thanks to @diabolik-lovers-weekly for organising the exchange. It feels good for the fandom to come together for things like this.

The autumnal chill in the air had me adjusting the sleeves of my jumper, the carriage constantly jostling slightly from the bumps and dips in the road ahead. Crowds were gathered on either side of the winding streets en route to the Chateau de Vampire King. Pulling the curtains shut I sunk back against the plush seating, pushing myself as far into the corner as possible. What on Earth had I gotten myself into, agreeing to come was a complete mistake as far as I was concerned. The events from three months ago replayed in my mind like a mocking joke.

“What clothes do you want packed for a week? Tell the familiars by tomorrow”

“What?”

Shu had sighed, as if the mere act of explaining was the most unbearable chore in existence. He had dropped next to me on the bed, holding his head up as his earphones dangled around his neck.

“I have a festival to attend for the October full moon, meaning you have to attend as well. So, choose what you want packed, and tomorrow you have to meet the tailor to be measured. This whole thing is such a pain.”

A silence stretched between us as I sat agape across from him, eyebrows knotted in complete disbelief. The blank stare returned to me did little to ease the confusion. Shu sighed again, reaching his free hand out to tap the necklace he had put around my neck almost a year ago.

“This means you signed up for it. You don’t get to take it back now, you’re mine, woman. So don’t be so much of a pain as to make me go a week while desperate debutantes throw themselves at me.”

My cheeks warmed, the sincere look in his eyes never failing to catch me off guard. I let my hand weave its way into his, squeezing it slightly.

“But we can’t even spend time together at those balls, I just have to watch you dance.”

Shu didn’t have much to say to that, his eyes focused on some far off spot. I had learnt some time ago that when Shu looked like he wasn’t listening it was when he was listening the most. He loosened his hand from mine, wrapping it around my waist and pulling me close.

“You should come to this one anyway. It’s like I said you have to be there if I have to.”

That had been that and now the very same necklace was being spun between my fingers, sat alone in this carriage, trapped by the crowds unaware of your existence while Shu was somewhere in the same procession. No doubt the crowds were full of hopeful nobles with single daughters. Ridiculous protocols demanded the heir had to travel alone, unless married, and the lack of his brothers meant nobody was around to share the space with you. Karl Heinz was likely either in a carriage along the same road or already at the castle. The risk of having multiple important members of the royal line in one place probably meant he was already waiting in his study for our arrival. While I was still an Eve and therefore a completely acceptable choice in his eyes, the man still gave me the creeps. Stories of his treatment of the Sakamakis and his mysterious behaviour made it clear the man was not to be trusted.

The noise outside was slowly dimming, until a loud gate groaned and screeched slowly then a moment later slammed shut. This cycle repeated twice more before I felt the carriage shake as the sounds of cobblestone shifted to a smoother ride along the flatter road of the castle courtyard. The final slam sealing of my fate for the next week.

================================================

I would be lying if I said the castle wasn’t impressive, but its oppressive atmosphere and the constant feeling that someone is watching you was definitely a deal breaker. However, my original plan of hiding away in my room until Shu appeared was beginning to feel impossible with the blonde haired vampire not appearing at his usual nap time. Leaving me to wander the halls in search of him. Looming portraits and lifeless familiars had the hairs on the back of my neck standing up and goosebumps littering my arms uncaring of the thick cardigan wrapped around me. Shu’s cardigan to be specific, borrowed without permission from his room the morning of our departure, the worn but soft material was coated in the scent of his cologne and the toasty undertone that could only be described as... well Shu. The last visit to the castle had been so very different, I had just been marked as an ‘Eve’ with my link to Shu newly forming. Shu had been near stuck to me when we weren’t around vampires, paired with the amount of vampires present had made the more eerie parts of the castle less noticeable.

Nearing the door, I recognised as Shu’s general room of choice, I gently knocked waiting for his quiet beckoning to enter. Yet it never came, the room was completely stark, without any sign of his bags or him. I was left back where I began once more. Venturing through the curving halls and winding staircases of the castle was daunting but the idea of returning to my room felt worse.

After an hour of wandering and an embarrassing number of unread texts I was close to giving up. He must have been pulled to some prince linked task, or had fallen asleep somewhere I couldn’t find. I had explored so absent mindedly I completely missed I had taken myself right to his father’s study, the large mahogany doors threatening to swing open and leave me alone with a man that even made Shu nervous. Turning I start briskly walking away, aiming to avoid any potential vampires waiting to meet with the man and go to my room to lick my wounds. Yet whatever power may be decided that was the perfect time for the doors to creak open behind me. Bracing myself to curtsey and keep my mouth as shut as possible to hopefully avoid any confrontation I turn. My head quickly bowed as taught by Reiji, I dropped my knee as practiced.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t realise I had walked all the way here. I’ll be out of your way now.”

“That desperate to stay away? What a bothersome woman.” My head flew up, greeted with blue rather than golden eyes. Shu’s teasing smirk lifting the stress from my shoulders. I rose quickly, wringing my hands together.

“I was looking for you, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were the one trying to stay away from me.” He chuckled at that, reaching out a hand to brush against mine.

“But you do know better apparently?” He teased, leaning down and speaking in a voice so soft as if he was sharing a secret.

“You missed your nap.” I whispered back slipping my hand properly into his. Suddenly returned to my room. Shu slowly shuffled back, keeping me close until he was laid back in bed with me hovering over him. He pulled me close, a hand wrapping around the back of my head to hold me close to his chest, his other arm wrapping around my back. The bed was warm, and the gentle rise and fall of Shu’s chest was already lulling me to sleep.

“My pillow knows me well I see. Well, since I’m feeling nice I’ll take my nap now or else you’ll be bothersome and cranky,” an earphone hung by my ear, the distant sound of Chopin covering the drafty whispers of the castle halls.

“Hey...Shu?”

“mhm”

“Why were you in your father’s study?” I felt Shu’s sigh before I heard it, his face hidden from view as he held me to his chest.

“Don’t concern yourself with silly things woman, just go to sleep.”

================================================

I woke to a cold side of the bed and the ringing of a bell just outside. Scanning the room, it was clear Shu had vanished some time ago, the ringing continuing incessantly. Calling out, I’m greeted by the voice of a woman.

“Excuse me ma’am, may we enter? We have your breakfast and instruction to prepare you for the ball.” Swinging my legs off the bed and opening the door I welcome the maids inside. A tray is placed atop the ornate vanity sitting in the moonlight streaming through the tall, ornate windows. The concoction somewhat resembling toast and oatmeal wasn’t the worst food I’d eaten but it was glaringly clear the chefs had no idea what foods from the demon realm were safe for me to eat. Around me the maids were setting up a range of tools and products, garment bags hung from a set of hooks nearby, and jewellery boxes were neatly stacked on a table. I could hear water being ran in the connected ensuite, filling the claw foot tub. It was raining outside, the subtle patter against the windowpanes a shallow comfort, my mind swinging between Shu’s distant behaviour and the ball ahead. The ball was surely going to be a trial; barely concealed distain from the vampires in attendance, dances so stiff and strictly rehearsed with a misstep being a point of mockery, and the fact I’ll be put in a plainer uncomfortable dress and told to stay to myself and far away from Shu. The same Shu who was here one minute and gone the next, he hadn’t been like this since solidifying your relationship and especially not before a ball he was going to have to spend apart from me.

“Ma’am we’re ready for you.”

Snapped out of my thoughts, the tap no longer running and the scent of roses wafting through the air. Thus, began over an hour of scrubbing and styling, a long bath where every inch of me was cleaned thoroughly. My skincare and other routines followed and improved upon by a team of servants. Leading to now, as I stood in front of a mirror as a sparkling blue gown was tightened and adjusted. It was beautiful, royal blue cascading down, flattering me perfectly. Sleeves of blue lace with golden flowers, and a neckline coming together with a brooch of the Sakamaki crest. It was unlike anything I had ever been dressed in before.

“Are...are you sure this is meant to be mine? I don’t normally get put in this stuff...” my voice was quiet almost scared to acknowledge the image in front of me. As if another person seeing me would wake me up to some plain black dress like I expected.

“Of course, ma’am, the Crown Prince himself requested it. The tailor was thrilled to be able to design it for you.” The woman barely looked up, opening boxes and laying them out. She held up a sapphire necklace, laying it against me.

“This was the late Queen’s ma’am; do you think it suits the dress-”

“No!” I blurt out without thinking. “I mean, I think Shu would prefer something different. He probably has seen it plenty.” The woman has a knowing look in her eye, nodding ever so slightly and quickly moving away a number of boxes. A silver moon caught my eye, a small crescent with a sapphire pendant hanging in its open space. Lifting it from the box I let it hang in the light.

“A wonderful choice ma’am, it’s part of a matching set. Shall I fetch the matching earrings and tiara?”

“Tiara?” My questioning tone goes unanswered, as the woman collects two more boxes clasping the necklace and slipping on the earrings. Finally, a sparkling tiara is placed on my head, each silver peak flanked by phases of the moon.

“I really think this might be a mistake; I’m meant to blend in...I’m definitely not meant to be wearing a tiara.” The maid looked at me confused. But before she could speak a knock on the door interrupted. Slowly opening, Shu stepped inside. He was dressed in a blue suit, the golden tassels of his epaulettes further broadening his shoulders. A crown sat on his head, golden and proud. Reaching up with sharp, ray like peaks resembling sunbeams. His normal white gloves missing and in its place a signet ring matching the crest currently sat at my bust. He stood still as the servants bowed and made their exit, once gone he nodded to someone outside before closing the door. Walking toward me, I wrung my hands together anxiety gnawing at my stomach.

“Shu, what’s happening.” My concern evident as the absurdity of the situation settled on me further and further. However, he didn’t respond instead lifting my hand in his. He gestured for me to step down from the tailor’s step riser used to make final adjustments to the gown. Walking me over to the windows he pulled open the curtain ever so slightly, peaking out before prompting me to follow. Outside guests were streaming into the atrium across the courtyard, however a group of people dressed in suits with notepads and cameras stood gathered on the courtside nearest to the window. Journalists? Most likely trying to get pictures of Shu, but this side of the castle is for guests not family. A man pointed suddenly, shouting something while raising a camera before a barrage of flashes assaulted my eyes. Pulling away the curtains sway shut once more, doing little to dim the shouting. Shu chuckled, moving his hand to settle on my waist.

“You’re not doing a good job being discrete, as should be expected though. If you were subtle, I would be listening to Bach instead of stuck here about to be forced through a ball.” His comment had me pouting, and increasingly irked by the lack of answers to the situation unfolding.

“Shu, you’d still be here I didn’t force you to go I don’t exactly enjoy these either. More importantly why are they outside my room and why am I dressed like this.” My finger poked his chest in punctuation, exasperation filled me. Only to once again be greeted with Shu’s laughter as his hand wrapped around my wrist to pull me even closer still. Leaning down he whispered.

“We’re only here because of you, the October full moon festival is a glorified carnival I’m meant to sit and watch later this week. This ball is for you and me alone. A fact you made abundantly clear by wearing that,” he taps the centre moon on the tiara, pulling back to look me in the eye as he continues, “A tiara made to match my crown. I have to say I expected you to be less bold, generally our wedding would be where you debut yourself in the future Queen’s set.” A blush rose to my cheeks, hands quickly raising to lift the suddenly heavy metal off my head. Shu’s hands reached up to stop me.

“Shu! I didn’t know, they tried to put me in your mother’s stuff. I’ll take it off nobody told me.” My whispers sounding far shriller than I would prefer.

“Nobody told you because it was part of the collection put together of options for you, by me. I had a feeling it would catch your eye; I didn’t think they would have put it on you without reason. But the only reason you’re wearing it is because you don’t want to wear her things, not because you like it?” He teased, his thumbs rubbing soft circles into my wrist flustering me further.

“I mean of course I like it, it’s pretty...but I don’t want to wear her things. It feels like a bad luck charm to wear that. Why is the ball for us though? Why did you choose my dress and jewellery, this all feels like a lot more effort than you’re known for.” Staring up at him, I see his gaze soften as his eyes slowly move taking in my appearance.

“You have had to watch irritating dull women attempt to steal me away countless times, and have never gotten to dance or wear something that actually suits you. So, I’m fixing it, it’s a bother... but it’s one I’m ok with this once. You’re going to enter with me, announced as my choice. This ball is to celebrate me choosing a future Queen.” His pointer finger and thumb play with the tiara, adjusting it slightly.

“I feel a bit like I’m way too dressed up, I don’t know if it suits me, I look like a princess from some fairytale.” Looking down at the dress in disbelief.

“You are a princess.”

“What.” The face I pulled was evidently the most hilarious thing Shu had seen, he actually laughed at last. He mocked a bow with his head, lifting his hand held out to me palm up.

“We are about to enter the ballroom, after him, announced together, and you will be anointed a princess. Then we’ll be stuck there for hours receiving congratulations and presents. Probably will be stuck dancing. Really, we should just leave now avoid the bother all together.” Shu said all of this so nonchalantly, and you didn’t doubt he would have you both leaving as soon as possible.

“No, I think we can manage. Just stay close, ok?” His hand wrapped back around my waist, turning us away from the windows and starting towards the door.

“I’ll be with you the entire night; it would be a pain to have to deal with someone stealing you away.”

I didn’t notice how the curtains had been pulled apart as he turned. To focused on my prince to see the photos being taken of the two of you walking away beginning your walk to the Royal balcony.

================================================

The night so far had mostly been a blur. From the second the doors opened everything felt as if it was in slow motion and being fast forwarded at the same time. It began with our entry with every vampire family of note watching the two of us descend the stairs of the royal entrance. There were certainly some glares as we were announced, which only worsened when Shu’s father approached happily asking for a dance later in the night. However, with Shu virtually glued to my side and no clear reason for him to leave there wasn’t room for it to go further. Up until this point we had mostly been greeting guests and sampling food, but the music had begun picking up and Karl Heinz was approaching.

“I think it is time we have our dance, no?” His smile elusive as always, the man was unsettling there was no way around it. Shu’s hand didn’t move from my waist, if anything it tightened.

“I’m pretty sure the first dance is meant to be mine.” The man only chuckled in response, lifting his hand up making it obvious that unless Shu was about to make a scene there was no avoiding this. Reluctantly taking his hand we moved towards the centre of the room as the space cleared. A basic waltz began as we stayed silent. Nobody else was dancing either, so I had been left with someone I had only ever been told was incredibly dangerous. While desperately avoiding eye contact, I hear him start to speak.

“I won’t take too much of your time, your first dance is important after all.” He spins me out gently before continuing, “however, I feel I must thank you.”

“Thank...me?” I replied incredulously, he chuckled at that, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He was looking at me like I knew something, as though I was a valuable ally or enemy.

“The boy is now becoming a man, something I have failed at while you succeeded Miss Eve. I do hope your relationship is long and prosperous, Eden needs a strong successor.” He stopped suddenly, bowing to kiss my hand. “I hope you can appreciate your role in this.” He straightened and turned towards an approaching Shu, passing my hand to his. Sharing tense pleasantries before he walked away, likely to mingle with his advisors. Shu took his place in front of me, the music changing to something more melodic and slower.

“What did he say to you?” Pulling me closer as we gently fell into step. The lights around us dimming.

“He thanked me.” I couldn’t help but think how undeserving of thanks I was, Shu was bound to behave when he found someone he wanted to behave for. The fact that was me wasn’t special, and I didn’t tell him to do any of this. Yet here I stood in a dress fit for a princess, which I now apparently am. Surrounded by noble vampires while being the same species they prey upon, dancing with one of the strongest vampires who was also a prince and also somehow mine. Moonlight was streaming down from above, bathing us as those around us faded into shadows. The jewels in his crown sparkled, mine likely matching. His eyes focused on mine as we turn, spin, and dip through the steps taught to me months ago.

“So, the old man messed with the planned dance just to thank you and steal the spotlight, typical.” He rolled his eyes, hidden somewhat by his curls. Reaching up I brush them away, slowing, his eyes locked on mine. The light around beginning to change, a subtle reddish pink replacing the silvery beams. Whispers began but I could barely hear them while in the moment.

“You don’t know about this moon, do you? I don’t know why I would expect any different you are a simple woman,” he spoke to himself as the light slowly intensifies as the music grows gentler. “When an heir finds a match, there’s a special moon which has a much stronger effect on them. If they’re in Eden they’re bathed in red light, some people say its to show support for the match, that’s a ridiculous wife tale, however. The truth is that it makes the bond between them stronger physically.” His fingers lace with mine before he continued quietly. His voice a melodic hum able to sooth my soul in a way that is equal parts scary and comforting.

“I feel your presence, your scent, you blood more than before. You must as well, even if you aren’t able to pinpoint it like I can. I won’t let you escape from now on, and nothing will take you from me.” The sentiment fills me with a warmth, and I can’t seem to wipe the grin off my face.

“Good, you’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.” Smiling back at me, the only thing in his eyes I can see is me, in full radiant focus.

#diabolik lovers #shu sakamaki #shu sakamaki x reader #bloody gift exchange #diabolik boys

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thepastisalreadywritten · 8 months ago

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The day Princess Anne was almost kidnapped on The Mall — 50 years on

On this day 50 years ago, 23-year-old Princess Anne found herself fighting off a gunman as her bodyguard and driver lay wounded beside her. Emma Loffhagen takes a deep dive into the disturbing day one of the most senior royals was almost kidnapped.

By Emma Loffhagen

20 March 2024

“Your daughter has been kidnapped. The following are conditions to be fulfilled for release.”

In March 1974, Ian Ball used a rented typewriter to haphazardly type a letter intended for the then-head of state, Queen Elizabeth II.

Ball, 26, a funeral home worker, demanded £3 million — to be paid in £5 notes — in exchange for the return of the Queen’s daughter, Princess Anne.

After becoming fixated with the 23-year-old princess, he spent two years hatching an elaborate plan to kidnap her.

Today, March 20, marks the 50th anniversary of Ball’s kidnap attempt — one of the most bizarre and disturbing episodes in British royal history.

A “loner,” Ball had been inspired to hatch his elaborate kidnap plot by the novel Day of the Jackal.

He wanted to follow in the footsteps of the book’s hero, the contracted assassin the Jackal.

“He was a very strange man,” Ball’s neighbour later said. “The only time he ever went out was when he went down to the launderette or went out for some food.”

It was thought that he had developed a “fixation” on the royal, whipped up by the widespread and lavish coverage of her wedding to Captain Mark Phillips the previous year.

As part of his plan, Ball had moved from his run-down flat in Bayswater to a lush rented house in Fleet, Hampshire.

It was only a few miles from Sandhurst, where Anne lived with her then-husband Phillips.

After a quick phone call to the Buckingham Palace press office, Ball knew which engagements and events Anne attended each week.

He rented a car under the alias John Williams, stocking the boot with Valium tranquilisers and two pairs of handcuffs.

On the evening of 20 March 1974, Anne was travelling back to Buckingham Palace in an Austin Princess limousine.

She had attended a screening of Riding Towards Freedom, a documentary by the charity Riding for the Disabled.

Captain Phillips, her bodyguard James Beaton, and her lady-in-waiting Rowena Jane Brassey, were also in the car driven by royal chauffeur Alexander Callender.

At around 8pm, as the group drove up The Mall, a white Ford Escort swerved in front of the limousine, forcing Callender to stop.

Then a 31-year-old inspector, Beaton, who had been Anne’s bodyguard for a year, got out to investigate.

“I thought it was somebody who wanted to be a pain in the neck,” he later said. “There was no hint of what was to happen.”

Suddenly, a bearded man with light red hair jumped out of the vehicle and pulled out two handguns, smashing the passenger window with the butt of one.

Beaton had not even had the chance to pull out his weapon when he was shot in the shoulder.

He then attempted to fire back at Ball — but missed. Upon a second attempt, his gun — a Walther PPK — jammed.

Ball turned to the passenger door behind the driver’s seat and started shaking it. Anne was sat on the other side. “Open, or I’ll shoot!” he shouted.

As the princess and Captain Phillips desperately tried to hold the door closed, Anne’s lady-in-waiting crawled out of the door on the passenger side.

Beaton got back in the car, placing himself between the couple and their assailant.

Ball shot into the car, and Beaton’s hand deflected the bullet.

He shot the bodyguard a third time, hitting Beaton in the abdomen and causing him to fall from the vehicle.

“I felt tired and very drunk, although I hadn’t been drinking,” Beaton later told police. “I just wanted to lie down.”

Callender stepped out to confront the gunman, but Ball shot him in the chest and he fell back into the car.

Pulling the door open, Ball grabbed Anne’s forearm as her husband held on to her waist.

“Please, come out,” Ball reportedly told the princess. “You’ve got to come.”

As the pair struggled over Anne, her dress ripped, splitting down the back, which she later recalled prompted her to “lose her rag.”

But, rather than panic, she had what she described as a “very irritating conversation” with her potential kidnapper.

Unbelievably calm despite the commotion, Anne famously replied: “Not bloody likely!”

In an interview with the late television presenter Michael Parkinson, she recalled:

“He [the gunman] opened the door and we had a discussion about where — or where not — we were going to go.

“I said I didn’t think I wanted to go. I was scrupulously polite because I thought it would be silly to be too rude at that stage.”

A nearby tabloid journalist, Brian McConnell, arrived on the scene.

Recognising the limo’s insignia, he realised the commotion must have involved a royal family member.

“Don’t be silly, old boy,” he told Ball. “Put the gun down.”

Ball responded by shooting him too and McConnell collapsed bleeding onto the road.

A man named Ronnie Russell drove past at this point.

He was on his way home to Strood, Kent, from working as an area manager for a cleaning company in London.

In a stroke of incredible luck, Russell happened to be a former boxer. He had cut his cloth at the Repton Club in east London, an infamous venue sponsored by the notorious Kray twins.

Jumping out of the car, Russell punched Ball twice in the head before leading Anne and her lady-in-waiting away from the attacker.

He later explained that he “did not like bullies,” which prompted his decision to intervene.

Despite being injured, Ball still shot the first police officer to arrive on the scene, Constable Michael Hills, 22, before running off.

Detective Constable Peter Edmonds, who answered Constable Hills’ radio request for backup, chased Ball down The Mall and through St James’s Park before tackling him on the ground.

At Ball’s Old Bailey trial in May 1974, more details came to light about the plot.

Ball kept his head lowered for most of the proceedings, only uttering the word “guilty” to confirm the charges of attempted murder and kidnapping.

In his pocket, detectives had discovered the kidnap note addressed to the Queen, which demanded the £3 million ransom (the equivalent of £26 million today), a free pardon, and a plane to fly him to Switzerland.

He had planned to take the princess to a central London property he had rented under an alias.

In a police interview, Ball also said he believed Anne would be an easy target after ascertaining her whereabouts by phoning the Buckingham Palace press office.

“I had thought about it for years,” he said. “She would have been the easiest. I have seen her riding with her husband.”

Ball also showed no remorse for having shot three men on the night of the attempted kidnap.

“They were getting in my way so I had to shoot them,” he said. “Well, the police, that's their job. They expect to be shot. I took a chance of getting shot so why shouldn't they?”

He added: “I suppose I’ll be locked up for the rest of my life. I am only sorry I frightened Princess Anne. There is one good thing coming out of this: you will have to improve on her protection.”

Ball was diagnosed with schizophrenia following the trial and sentenced to a mental health facility under the Mental Health Act, “without limit or time."

He remains in the Broadmoor Hospital in Berkshire to this day.

The facility has been home to a series of notorious criminals, including serial killer Peter Sutcliffe and London gangster Ronnie Kray.

Immediately after the attack, the royals ceased having only one protection officer.

When Anne visited Beaton in hospital, “she turned up with two policemen,” her bodyguard said. “From then on, that’s what it was.”

“I had nothing…There was no back-up vehicle,” Beaton told The Times separately.

“The training was non-existent; but then again, [we thought] nothing was going to happen. They are highly specialised now, highly trained.”

Beaton continued to work for Anne for another five years — before the Queen employed him.

After Beaton’s weapon jammed, the type of guns used by bodyguards were also changed: “The Walthers were got rid of overnight.”

Beaton was honoured for his bravery, receiving the George Cross — the UK’s highest civilian honour for gallantry.

Russell also received the honour. In a 2006 interview, Russell recalled what Queen Elizabeth said as she presented his George Medal:

“The medal is from the Queen of England, the thank you is from Anne’s mother.”

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katedrakeohd · 7 days ago

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Heartstopper (part2)

@kingliamappreciationweek

@tessa-liam @lizzybeth1986 @sazanes

@kingliam2019

King Liam Appreciation Week 2024

Read part 1 here

Rating: Mature themes (angst, swearing, alcohol use, car accident, bodily harm, character death, betrayal, all the drama)

Cast: TRR - King Nicholas, Drake Walker, Kate Darling (MC), other characters.

-_-_-👑-_-_-

King Nicholas sat at the desk in his bedroom. It had been an hour since he'd seen Kate get slapped by one of his security guards and then get shoved into one of his own royal SUVs. He had sent Drake after her. But he hadn't heard anything from either of them since. He had called Drake several times and gotten no response. A bottle of whiskey sat open on the desk and the glass in his hand had already been refilled many times.

It was his Coronation night, and it should have been a joyous and monumental occasion. So far it hadn't been much of a celebration at all. He was forced by his own family to choose Madeleine Amaranth of Fydelia as his Queen. It was Kate Darling who had won his heart, and her unfortunate violent kidnapping had him feeling totally crushed and betrayed.

The phone on the desk started ringing and he coughed into his fist to clear his throat before picking up the receiver. He licked his lips and then answered, "Hello?"

"Your Majesty, Bastien here. The SUV carrying Kate Darling didn't reach the airport. Conner and Jax were supposed to meet Mark and Derek at the airport to ensure her deportation was successful. The flight to New York already left."

To Nicholas the only name he was familiar with in that explanation was Kate. And it infuriated him that the words 'deportation' and 'Kate' should ever be linked together.

"I see." Was the only response he could put together.

"Drake hasn't returned with the Ambassador's car yet either."

"Please extend my sincerest apologies to the Moroccan Ambassador and his driver. I authorized Drake to engage in risky behavior and I shouldn't have given him so much liberty to do so. If the vehicle comes back damaged in any way I promise to replace it."

"I'll inform you immediately of any new developments as they come to my attention."

"Thank-you, Bastien."

Nicholas hung up the phone and swallowed the remains of his drink in one gulp. It hit his gut with a scorching fire and the resulting cough burned his nostrils. He welcomed the pain of it, because the deep worry over Kate's disappearance had shifted toward one of dread. Where was she? And where was Drake?

The large puddles of water on the highway became spraying fountains as the silver Audi slashed through them. Drake was dangerously pushing the limits of its tires to keep traction. The other drivers had slowed down for safety and Drake hastily wove his silver dart around them. Come on people it's just a little rain.

But of all the vehicles he had passed, none seemed to be the black SUV that he was looking for. With a frustrated sigh he was forced to slow down as the vehicles became more erratically placed in his way. Are the other drivers moving at all?

When he took the car in the first place he had left the window open. He enjoyed the reckless freedom of hearing the engine growl as it accelerated. But once the rain began he had to close the window to spare the leather interior. Unfortunately ever since the window had closed he'd been struggling to modulate the car's internal temperature to keep his windows clear. He rarely drove anything other than the fleet vehicles, and driving in the rain at night wasn't helping either. The unfamiliar atmospheric controls and placement of the vents had him turning the fan up higher to compensate for the humidity.

The staccato rhythm of a random car horn forced him to look up at the road. Were they warning him of something? It was then that he smelled the smoke. It was the unmistakable oily smell of a car fire. Sweet Jesus, No.

The flashing hazard lights of the parked cars ahead were the next clue. He crept past them and then looked to his right. In the darkness, the flames and smoke boiling out from under the hood of the crumpled SUV didn't seem real. But the model of it couldn't have been more real to Drake. He quickly swerved to park his vehicle on the shoulder. The tires had barely imbedded themselves in the gravel before he threw his door open to exit the car. He ducked back in to jab at the trunk release. Hopefully there was something in there he could use.

Other drivers were standing by their cars and shouting at him to wait for the emergency crews. Help was on its way.

But Drake couldn't afford to wait. There was someone he cared about in that burning vehicle. As he threw the trunk lid open he felt a measure of relief at the bag of golf clubs that he saw. There was also an emergency tool kit and a first-aid kit. He dumped out the golf clubs and chose a nine iron. He bashed up his knuckles rifling through the emergency kit and found the tiny jack handle/pry bar. These would have to do.

In the garish flash of the hazard lights and the blinding headlamps of the other cars, he saw the path of destruction that the tumbling SUV had torn in the grassy hillside. He cursed the slick soles of his dress shoes as he slid and skidded his way down through the fresh mud. Having miss-matched metal tools in each hand added to the clumsiness of his endeavor; but who ever said playing the hero was pretty. It was still raining and that made everything that much worse. He quickly became soaked to the skin.

As he approached the wreckage he threw down his tools and tried to open the back door of the car first. The rollover had crushed the door frame and the hinges were jammed. Fuck.

The smoke burned at his eyes and nostrils and he covered his nose with his elbow as he assessed the condition of the window glass next. The fleet vehicles had tinted, reinforced window glass, but he hoped it wasn't shatterproof. The windows in the front were not tinted as darkly and he saw the crumpled bloodied remains of the driver and his seat belted passenger. In the dark backseat he couldn't see if Kate was moving.

"Hold on Darling, I'm coming for ya." He shouted as he bent down to get the golf club. He swung the club like a baseball bat and it harmlessly bounced off the glass. No damage to the glass, but it bent the shaft of the club and loosened the head. He swung it against the fender to break it off. Changing his grip on the slippery club he stabbed at the glass like an ice pick. Finally the surface began to chip. He jabbed at the edge of the window by the frame and punched a hole. Working the shaft around in the hole he tried to make it bigger. Smoke leaked out through the hole, but he still wasn't any closer to seeing the inside of the car. Fuck!

He dropped the club and picked up the crowbar. The wet dirty metal slid around greasily in his hands and his skin burned from trying to get a grip. He jammed the crowbar into the crack of the doorframe where the latch would be. He kicked at it as hard as he could, cursing his stupid shoes as the pain shot up into his ankle. He needed boots, heavy boots.

He could hear sirens approaching.

Come ..on! .He kicked harder in desperation and the latch popped. Smoke billowed out from the crack and he could hear coughing. She's still alive. Grabbing the bar in both hands he wrenched at the door and worked enough gap to get his fingers around the top edge of the door frame. He pulled with all his might and yelled out. "Kate?! Kate! Can you hear me?"

He heard her cough again, "Drake?"

"Are you injured? Help is coming. But damn it if I'm not going to try to get you out of there myself." He growled in desperation through clenched teeth as his hands slipped and slid along the edge of the door. His fingers were bleeding, but his pumping adrenaline masked any pain.

He jammed the bar into the top of the doorframe and levered with as much force as his tiring arms could manage. He coughed against the hot smoke that filled his lungs.

A loud voice boomed at him from behind. "Sir! Step away from the vehicle!"

He squinted over his shoulder at the bright flashlights of the approaching firefighters, " 'Bout time you guys showed up. Help me get her out!"

Strong hands pulled him out of the way, and he watched another firefighter jam a large pry bar into the edge of the door and wrench it open wider.

"Wish I'd had one of those.."

He looked down at the tiny bar he held in his hand and then dropped it.

Someone dropped a warm blanket around his shoulders and he held it closed like a robe. They tried to lead him away, but he resisted.

"No, not yet. I need to see if she's ok."

He watched them spray some sort of foamy stuff on the engine compartment and the fire went out. The hot metal sizzled and hissed as the rain pattered down. Two men pulled the backdoor open and then one climbed inside to check on Kate. He could hear the quiet assurances from the firefighter and Kate's sobs of relief and gratitude. Then she was lifted out in his arms.

Drake's heart sank when he saw the state that she was in. Her skin and dress were blackened from smoke. Kate's beautiful face was bloodied and bruised, and her delicate hands and fingers were scraped raw and bleeding. She was missing a shoe, and her shins and ankles were scraped up badly as well. They laid her down carefully on a stretcher and covered her with a blanket. She turned her head and looked at Drake as they carried her past him, and her terrified expression made him want to throw up.

Drake was led back to his car and sat down on the passenger front seat. A paramedic treated the scrapes on his hands while another one offered him an oxygen mask from a portable tank. He accepted the mask and took the deepest breath his sore lungs would allow. He coughed and then brushed the mask aside, shaking his head. His voice was hoarse, "I'll be fine. I was a smoker for years, this is nothing. Go look after her."

A police officer came over to ask him questions.

"Your name, Sir?"

He coughed, "Drake Walker."

"Did you witness the accident?" The officer scribbled on his notepad.

Drake shook his head, "No."

"What prompted you to attempt such a rescue? To risk your own safety instead of calling for help?"

Drake coughed into his fist, "I was ordered to follow them. Her safety is my job."

The officer frowned, "But you didn't see how the accident happened."

Drake shook his head again, turning in his seat to watch Kate being put into the back of an ambulance.

"I was several kilometers behind. I'm her bodyguard, and was giving chase to catch up."

The officer narrowed his eyes and looked him up and down, suspiciously. "You were chasing them? Did they know they were being followed? If you're her bodyguard then why weren't you in the vehicle in the first place?"

Drake pointed at the crumpled SUV angrily, "Because the bastards separated us and then forced her into it. They took her against her will. And if you're implying that I chased them off the road and caused the accident... That's fucking insane."

The officer scribbled details down on his notepad, and then repeated his question, "Why didn't you call for help when you came upon the crash?"

Drake's angry outburst had scraped his throat raw. He coughed painfully and then leaned over to spit black soot on the ground. He wiped his mouth on the blanket. "I am the help. Now if you don't mind I need to follow her to the hospital."

He got out of the car and gave the blanket back to the paramedic, "Thanks for helping me warm up and dry out."

He pushed past the officer, "And Fuck You very much and get the hell out of my way."

He sprinted back around the front of the car to get back in the driver's seat. He reached over and retrieved his phone from the floor and saw all of the missed calls from Nicholas. Untangling his suit jacket, he put it back on and then jabbed at his phone screen to call him back.

He switched the call to speaker and then restarted the car, honking his horn to scatter the people standing in the way. Nicholas's voice was frantic as he picked up the call.

"Drake?! .. what's all the honking for...Drake?"

He pulled out onto the road to follow the ambulance that had already left.

"Sorry, I had to clear the people out of my way."

"Where are you? What's going on?" Nicholas asked.

Drake took a moment to cough, his throat was still raw as he choked out a response. "There's been an accident, and I'm on the way to the hospital."

"You sound terrible, don't tell me you crashed the Ambassador's car."

Drake looked at his raw knuckles as they gripped the steering wheel. "Don't worry about me. No, the SUV was in an accident. Kate's in rough shape."

There was a long pause on the other end and Drake wondered if Nicholas was ok.

"Are you still th-.."

"Did you run them off the road?" Nicholas interrupted.

"Jesus Christ, No! You're the second person in the last five minutes to ask me that. And it's really starting to piss me off."

Drake coughed again, the painful force of it causing him to swerve and then correct his steering. He smacked the steering wheel in frustration, his heart racing. He'd never catch up at this rate. A sense of panic twisted his gut at the thought of Kate slipping further and further away. He suddenly felt overwhelmingly nauseous.

He opened his window and gulped at the fresh air, his skin felt clammy as he wiped the sweat from his face.

"Drake? Are you sure you're ok?"

Forcing the bile back down his throat burned his chest like acid. His eyes watered. No, he was definitely not ok.

"I'm ok," he lied. Sucking in more of the cool night air.

Nicholas' voice wavered with concern, "Can you tell me more about the accident?"

"I don't know how it happened... Just that the driver is going to be leaving the scene in a body bag, and the other guy with him didn't look much better. Dear God, Nicholas..." Drake's voice broke, and he coughed to cover it up. He couldn't stop the tears as they trickled down his face. "I tried so hard to get her out of there, the car was on fire and there was so much smoke. I..I don't know how she survived."

"Drake, maybe you should pull over."

Drake sniffed and then coughed again, wiping his nose on his sleeve. He made a black smear on the grey material. "No, I can't stop. I don't know where they're taking her."

"Probably Capital General. Thank goodness she survived..was she conscious? How bad did she look?"

Drake scrubbed his hand through his wet hair, "From what I saw, her outside injuries seemed to be superficial. But being trapped in the car with all that smoke and heat must have done a number on her lungs. I was outside the car and it fucked me up pretty bad."

"But She.. she's alive..." Nicholas's voice trailed off.

"I didn't really get the chance to talk to her before she was loaded in the ambulance, but yes she was conscious. And very alive."

"Thank-you Drake. If she pulls through you'll definitely be rewarded for your bravery. ..And if she doesn't, well..I.."

Drake shook his head, wiping the tears from his face this time. "I don't want to think about that scenario either."

There was a pause and then Nicholas continued, "Get yourself checked out at the hospital, and try to keep tabs on her the best you can. Don't leave her side if you can help it."

"I won't."

Drake heard Nicholas sigh on the other end of the phone call, he could tell their call was coming to an end. It was as if his sorrow had totally depleted him.

"I'll be in touch to discuss our next steps. Wait for me to contact you. Other than you, I don't know who else I can trust right now."

Drake could hear the nervousness in his voice, and he didn't like it.

"Understood," he replied and hung up.

#kingliam #drake walker #choices #klaw #theroyalromance

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princessanneftw · 1 month ago

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Patron of the Royal College of Emergency Medicine (RCEM), Her Royal Highness The Princess Royal addressed more than 300 delegates at RCEM’s Annual Scientific Conference in Gateshead last week (10 October 2024).

Her Royal Highness praised the dedication of Emergency Medicine professionals and highlighted the work of the NHS workforce, in particular Emergency Departments, with the Covid outbreak and high workloads.

The Princess Royal was greeted at the conference venue by Dr Adrian Boyle, President of the Royal College of Emergency Medicine and Catherine Feast, RCEM’s Director of Engagement and External Affairs.

Her Royal Highness viewed the winning submissions from the poster competition and met the designers, and then went on to meet the abstract authors, discussing their studies which focused on key issues facing Emergency Medicine.

The Princess Royal further engaged with speakers and delegates before listening to Professor Richard Body from the University of Manchester and Manchester University NHS Foundation Trust, who delivered his presentation on how to optimise shared decision making for patients with chest pain.

Dr Adrian Boyle, President of the Royal College of Emergency Medicine said: “It was a great honour to welcome Her Royal Highness to our conference.

“Once again, she showed her understanding of the specialty, her interest in the people who work in it, and her awareness of the challenges it faces.

“We are so lucky to have such an engaged and passionate patron, and I know it means so much for those members who were able to meet and chat with her about their work.”

Catherine Feast, Director of Engagement and External Affairs at the Royal College of Emergency Medicine said: “Her Royal Highness’s presence at our Annual Scientific Conference marks the second event The Princess Royal has attended this year and we are so grateful she gives us so much of her time.

“As ever, our delegates were delighted to have her here and to hear her support for the specialty.

“She is a fabulous royal patron, and we are honoured to have had her visit us last week.”

The Princess, who has been royal patron of the Royal College of Emergency Medicine since 2008, previously attended RCEM’s trainee conference, which was also held in Gateshead in February 2024.

#can we hear her speech now @ rcem #princess anne #princess royal #anne does stuff #workanne 9 to 5 #british royal family #brf

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saynomorefic · 4 months ago

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For Simon Month 2024 Day 22: Labor Day

Sara goes into labor, naturally, on Labor Day. Simon is about to be an uncle, and Wilhelm is Sara's distracting pediatric nurse.

Thanks to @youngroyals-events as always for hosting <3

Read on ao3 or below the cut

Sara looked pale when Simon rushed into the hospital room. He hastily threw his backpack on the nearest chair and went right to her side.

“I’m sorry it took me so long, the bus was delayed because of the parade,” he panted. “How are you?”

“I need to get this fucking baby out of me, is how I am,” she exhaled sharply, wincing as another contraction hit. Simon squeezed her hand and circled the bed to hug Linda.

“She’s certainly been a trooper. She even took the train from work to the hospital! Can you imagine?” Linda looked at her daughter with awe in her eyes.

“I’m guessing Lukas is on his way?” Simon asked.

“No, Simon, Lukas is not coming to witness the birth of his first child.” Simon rolled his eyes internally, but he was happy to bear the brunt of Sara’s pain if it meant getting them all through this.

He had just been at the Labor Day parade with Ayub when he got the call. They had been getting signatures for a petition to increase the budget for Swedish language tutors in public schools, and things had been going really well. The moment he got the news, he rushed to the nearest bus stop and high-tailed it to the hospital. It wasn’t Sara’s first choice, or even second choice; she had a doula and a whole plan, but apparently when your water breaks over a week early, the best laid plans go flying out the window.

There were three sharp knocks on the door, and two people dressed in blue scrubs walked in. “Sara Eriksson?” A middle aged woman greeted, walking over to the hospital bed. “My name is Katya, and this is Wilhelm. I’m your nurse midwife, and I'll be delivering your baby. Wilhelm here is your assigned pediatric nurse. His job is to monitor your and the baby’s vitals, and make sure everyone is healthy. Things are looking great so far,” she smiled. Sara looked skeptical, but nevertheless she nodded at them in greeting.

The male nurse paced right towards Simon. “Sorry, if you don’t mind, I have to be here next to the screen.” He half-smiled at Simon, and he thought Wilhelm had quite a nice face. He wondered how common it was for male nurses to work in labor and delivery, and immediately chastised himself. Of course there were male nurses in every specialty.

Brushing past Simon, Wilhelm looked down at his jean jacket. “I like your pins.” He smiled again, and for the briefest moment Simon swore he saw something flash in his eyes. Wilhelm was looking right at his enamel pride flag. One of Simon’s students had given it to him his first year teaching, and to this day it was one of his most prized possessions.

“Thanks. Labor Day, you know.” Simon turned to show Wille his panel of other buttons.

“Nice,” Wille nodded. “I’ve always wanted to go.”

“You’ve never been? Is the medical profession void of any social causes to fight for?” He questioned teasingly.

“The medical profession doesn’t get national holidays. Babies get born every day of the year, you know.” He looked at Simon with matched sarcasm, and Simon’s stomach flipped instantly. Wilhelm turned towards the screen and started typing. Simon thought to himself on a scale of one to an extremely bad person, how awful it was to flirt with his sister’s nurse while she was actively having her baby. He landed somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. Someone had to keep the group spirits up.

Sara’s contractions were getting more and more intense, and the midwife informed Simon and Linda she should only have one person with her. Simon was more than relieved to be dismissed. He grabbed onto Sara’s hand and squeezed it. “You’re going to do great,” he reassured her. It wasn’t often she welcomed his physical comfort, but she had a vice grip on his hand and stared at him wide-eyed.

“You’re not really leaving, are you?” She asked.

“I’ll be right outside.” He squeezed her hand again. Wille turned and smiled as Simon left.

–

It was one of the hardest things Simon had ever not-witnessed. Sara was grunting and crying, obviously distressed, and he knew there wasn’t anything he could do to help. It didn’t get much better when Lukas got there, panting and sweaty and on the verge of the rest of his life. Simon had heard horror stories of parents being in labor for an entire day. His Mamá never let him forget that for his own birth, she didn’t have enough time to get an epidural and just had to grit her teeth and bear it.

He felt selfish, but Simon’s mind kept wandering to Wille. As his palms sweat against his jeans, Simon kept thinking about how this man did this every day. He witnessed people endure the worst pain in their lives, had probably dealt with all kinds of situations and worst case scenarios, and did it all with a smile on his face and a sense of humor. And people said that teaching was a difficult job.

Before long, Simon heard some of the worst crying subside, only to be replaced by a new kind of crying. It was high pitched, and much louder, and holy shit holy shit holy shit, he realized that was the moment. He was an uncle. Tears sprang to his eyes. It still felt surreal that Sara was starting a family of her own, and for the rest of his life he’d have her kids to take to Rosh’s games, or on playdates with Ayub’s two menaces, or even to take to Labor Day parades.

All of a sudden the door slammed open and Wilhelm was standing in front of him purposefully. “You want to meet them?” He asked, beckoning his head back into the room.

“Holy shit, yes,” Simon said, nearly tripping over his own feet.

Sara held the baby on her chest, a sated and peaceful expression on her face. Lukas stood next to her, caressing the top of her head and cooing at the bundle in his wife's arms. Sara looked up at Simon and smiled, ever so slightly tilting the newborn in his direction.

“Alma, meet Uncle Simon,” she breathed.

“Hi, little Alma,” Simon said. She was covered in all kinds of fluids, her eyes screwed shut, but she was undeniably precious. He could see the beginnings of both of her parents features on her face. Sara’s mouth, Lukas’s nose, Linda’s hair. She was spectacular.

He stepped back to let his Mamá come closer, coincidentally moving towards the nurse’s station. “She’s so calm,” Simon murmured to no one in particular.

“It's the oxytocin. Some powerful stuff,” Wilhelm commented. He looked at Simon, eyes smiling. “This is always the best part. Right after, I mean.”

“It’s pretty amazing,” Simon laughed wetly. He couldn’t be bothered to hide his tears.

“Are you excited to be an uncle?” Wilhelm asked.

“It's crazy. My friends keep saying I'll be the cool Guncle.” Simon joked offhandedly.

Wilhelm beamed back at him. “It is pretty cool, not going to lie.” Simon looked at him with a start. “My older brother has two kids. Also takes the responsibility off of us. Unless, of course, that’s something you want,” he finished. This was turning more personal than Simon suspected most of Wilhelm’s interactions with patients’ families went, but he couldn’t be bothered.

Simon didn’t know what to say. He’d thought about kids, but it seemed so complicated. Surrogacy was banned in Sweden, and sure you could go abroad, but that was complicated, expensive, and potentially ethically unsound. Simon had thought about adoption, but it was just that. He figured once he met the right person, they would have that conversation, but until then it had only been a passing thought. It all seemed so real, with Sara cradling Alma in her arms, and Linda standing over them proudly.

“At least ask me on a date before we start having the kids conversation,” Simon finally joked. Wilhelm startled, looking at him with wide eyes before bursting into laughter.

“Is that a request?” He said quietly, glancing around the room. “I’m a professional.”

They left the hospital early the next morning. Sara insisted on bringing the blanket they wrapped around Alma postpartum, the sheet of paper that had her heart signals and time of birth printed on it, and the basin they had washed her in. Simon, too, left with his own souvenir: a new contact and number in his phone, and a promise of a date.

#my fic #labor of love #simonmonth2024 #wilmon fanfic #saynomorefic

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 7 months ago

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WIP Weekend

Weekly WIP update

I've mainly been focussing on my Steddie Big Bang fic this week, wrapping up chapter 2 and re-reading what I have so far. I've been suffering from bitchy brain syndrome all week with regard to this project, thinking everything I wrote was crap, but I guess that's mainly due to being unable to share my ideas. Revising what I've already written has actually helped a little, because I do quite like how it's coming together. I'll prepare my summary and excerpt next, then go back to working on chapter 3 of The King's Gift.

8 out of 29 prompts from my 1k follower celebration are filled, with a new one hopefully dropping over the weekend.

Send me an emoji and I'll write and share three sentences from that project. (Steddie Big Bang snippets will be blurred, as I'm not allowed to disclose anything yet.)

🏰The King's Gift

❓Steddie Big Bang fic 2024

🥳1k follower celebration ficlets

Snippet from 🥳

(CW nudity, explicit sexual content)

Eddie thought he knew what pain was.

He was chomped on by a flock of feral demon bats while fully conscious. He wouldn’t wish that experience on his worst enemy, and trust him, he has a lot of enemies, what with half the town still convinced he’s a devil-worshiping, cheerleader-murdering psychopath.

Eddie also thought he knew humiliation.

Hell, he needed help peeing in those first few weeks in the hospital. His dick has been touched by more people than he is comfortable admitting - and isn’t that something for a chronically bitchless, triple-senior D&D nerd?

Point is, if anyone had asked before today, Eddie would’ve boldly claimed there was nothing in the pain and humiliation department strong enough to make him even bat an eyelash.

Turns out he was wrong.

“Fuuuck,” he whines, hands white-knuckling the bedsheets. His head, heavy from craning his neck, thuds back into the pillow. “What the hell is taking so long? Take it off, take it off, take it-”

“I’m trying, okay?” Steve snaps. He has stopped laughing, which … okay, Eddie appreciates he’s taking this seriously, but he absolutely does not like that brow furrow. That's Steve Harrington's trademark ‘we're royally fucked but I'm gonna keep it together to not freak anyone out’ brow furrow. “The damn knot won't come loose.”

He tugs at said knot as if to demonstrate, and Eddie almost jerks off the bed as a jolt of pain zaps from the base of his cock all the way up his spine.

“Jesus fuck, be careful!” he barks, but Steve stays unimpressed.

“Hold still,” he scolds, voice deep and stern. One large hand grips Eddie’s knee and pushes his thighs further apart. It's very close to how Eddie envisioned this going, and his cock gives a treacherous little twitch. “Don't know why you thought this was a good idea.”

“I told you,” Eddie hisses through another bout of pain. “It was supposed to be a surprise. I wanted to do something special for our anniversary.”

Steve gives him a look.

“So you put a bow around your dick.”

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #wip ask game #wip weekend

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steddieholidaydrabbles · 11 months ago

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Week 4 Masterlist

It's the end of the challenge! See below for all of the last week's posts from some very talented writers.

Thank you to everyone who participated by writing or creating art, for those who followed along and reblogged to support these writers and artists, and everyone who cheered me on during the chaos of still handling life and this blog every single day!

Keep your eyes peeled throughout 2024 for some pop-up challenges!

DAY 22 - SPORTS AU

deep penetration up the field by @steddieas-shegoes | Rated E | no cw | tags: secret relationship, football player steve, musician eddie, dirty talk, phone sex, masturbation

I wanna dance with somebody by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation with art by @house-of-the-moving-image | Rated T | cw: some vague mention of eddie's boner | tags: no UD au, meet cute, good neighbor eddie munson, dancer steve harrington

Go For Gold by @thisapplepielife | Rated T | no cw | tags: swimming au, olympic trials, racing, rivalry, a dash of secret relationship, eddie & gareth are bffs

Freestyle love by @katyawriteswhump | Rated T | no cw | tags: enemies to lovers, whump, university/college au

She shoots, she scores by @atimeofyourlife | Rated T | no cw | tags: lesbian steddie au, genderswap steddie, soccer au

The New Highs and Lows of a Ball Boy by @klausinamarink | Rated G | cw: ankle injury | tags: volleyball, pre-relationship, jeff is eddie's best friend, sweetheart steve, secret shakespeare fan steve, post s1

winter games by @cranberrymoons | Rated T | no cw | tags: basketball, fluff, eddie enduring jock stobin

DAY 23 - UNCLE WAYNE ADOPTS STEVE

wayne's got him by steddieas-shegoes | Rated G | cw: migraines | tags: hurt/comfort, established relationship, fluff

Eddie Munson's family dinner by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated M | cw: nudity | tags: modern au, rockstar eddie, royal steve, established relationship

Beautiful Boys by @thisapplepielife | Rated T | cw: lingering injuries/trauma | tags: post s4, eddie munson lives, good uncle wayne munson, wayne & steve, wayne pov

breaking frozen ground by @cranberrymoons | Rated T | no cw | tags: fluff, gardening, appalachian wayne

Time after time by @alingeringmirth | Rated T | cw: reference to abuse, reference of canon fake suicide | tags: steve harrington has bad parents, steve harrington needs a hug

DAY 24 - BIRTHDAY

The king's gift by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated T | cw: very light dubcon if you squint, mild blood and violence | tags: time travel, magic au, fantasy au, royal eddie, time traveler steve

birthday mess by steddieas-shegoes | Rated E | no cw | tags: frosting in places frosting shouldn't be, slight body worship, edging, blowjob, light dom/sub, dom eddie, sub steve

Dirty Thirty by @thisapplepielife | Rated T | cw: childhood trauma, language | tags: established relationship, future fic, steve & gareth, eddie turns 30, birthday blues, hurt/comfort, steve pov

holly jolly birthday by @cranberrymoons | Rated E | no cw | tags: fluff, teasing, light bondage

The day before Christmas, a day to forget by @atimeofyourlife | Rated T | cw: reference to neglectful parenting | tags: steve harrington has bad parents, surprise party

DAY 25 - CHRISTMAS

light of my life, pain in my ass by steddieas-shegoes | Rated E | cw: interrupted sex, mention of dom drop | tags: established relationship, mishap with christmas lights, dom/sub, dom eddie, sub steve, hurt/comfort, they take care of each other

words that are hard to swallow by @starryeyedjanai | Rated T | no cw | tags: modern au, christmas gifts, birthday gifts, accidental come ons

Merry whatever by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated G | no cw | tags: fluff, getting together, first kiss

art by @house-of-the-moving-image

Sophie Munson's Best Christmas Gift Ever by @klausinamarink | Rated G | no cw | tags: domestic fluff, transmasc eddie, steddie dads, side buckingham, modern au

his heart's fondest wish by @lingeringmirth | Rated T | cw: mentioned canon character death, grief, unhealthy coping mechanism, self-destructive behavior | tags: mourning, hurt steve harrington, dead eddie munson, open ended, unreliable narrator

Five Christmases by @thisapplepielife | Rated T | cw: language | tags: established relationship, future fic, christmas day, full schedule, family & friends, mostly fluff, a little obligation, steve pov

one christmas morning by @cranberrymoons | Rated M | no cw | tags: fluff, future fic, married life

Oh ho the mistletoe by @atimeofyourlife | Rated G | no cw | tags: pre-steddie, getting together, mistletoe

DAY 26 - "WHO DID THIS TO YOU?"

nowhere else he wants to be by @lingeringmirth | Rated G | cw: mention of violence, mention of homophobia | tags: established steddie, eddie lives, hurt/comfort, hurt steve, post-vecna, steve has at least one bad parent

i'm stayin' by steddieas-shegoes | Rated M | cw: off-screen violence, mentioned childhood abuse (not in detail) | tags: steve harrington has bad parents, established relationship, secret relationship, pre-season 4, hurt/comfort, asthmatic steve

A Cat-tivating Distraction by @paperbackribs | Rated T | no cw | tags: established relationship, modern au

In too deep by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated M | cw: blood and injury, mild gore, monsters, tentacles, horror, light mind control, referenced murder, billy hargrove (not in this but guess "who did this?") | tags: eddie munson whump, billy hargrove being an asshole, lake monster steve harrington, dark steve harrington, possessive behavior

Kiss me better by @katyawriteswhump | Rated M | cw: sex, possible temporary character death | tags: whump, magic au, incubus!eddie, hurt steve, fluff

Hell to Pay by @thisapplepielife | Rated M | cw: aftermath of off-screen violence, injuries | tags: post s4, eddie munson lives, but hawkins is shitty to him, established relationship, uncle wayne & steve, hurt/comfort, steve pov

I'll help your pain by @atimeofyourlife | Rated T | cw: canonical injuries, recovering from head injury, mention of neglectful parenting & medical neglect | tags: concussed steve, steve has head trauma, pre-steddie

I'm Still Here, Boys by @klausinamarink | Rated T | cw: offscreen physical assault | tags: wound care, hurt/comfort, post s4, steve lives with the munsons, wayne being the best uncle

First Responder by @steddie-island | Rated T | cw: blood, off-screen violence, possessive tommy hagan (off-screen)

DAY 27 - COFFEE SHOP / BOOKSHOP / TATTOO AU

fairy porn crisis by steddieas-shegoes | Rated M | cw: dirty talk, implied sexual content | tags: bookshop owner eddie, steve is having a sexuality crisis but subtly, flirting, getting together, modern au

Crumb Together by @thisapplepielife | Rated T | cw: language | tags: modern au, meet cute, platonic stobin, coffee shop/bakery au, fluff, steve pov

Baby, it's cold outside by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated M | cw: alcohol, implied sex | tags: coffee shop owner steve, tattoo studio owner eddie, christmas fluff, flirting, sexual tension, getting together

A coffee delivery by @atimeofyourlife | Rated T | no cw | tags: coffee shop au, tattoo au, tattoo artist eddie munson, barista steve harrington, pre-steddie

DAY 28 - PROPOSAL

more than everything else by steddieas-shegoes | Rated M | cw: suggestive language | tags: domestic fluff, sappy and romantic

Twenty-Eight Across by @thisapplepielife | Rated M | cw: heavy petting, fade to black sex, afterglow | tags: established relationship, future fic, long-term love, fluff, softness, proposal, eddie pov

Eddie's Proposal by @paperbackribs | Rated T | no cw | tags: eddie and chrissy are besties, pre-steddie, buckingham, no upside down au

Exactly what it's meant to say by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated G | no cw | tags: established relationship, moving in together, fluff, marriage proposal

i was supposed to ask you! by lingeringmirth | Rated M | no cw | tags: established relationship, fluff & angst, banter, some shenanigans, brief chief hopper cameo

I love you though you hurt me so (i'm gonna pack my things and go) by @atimeofyourlife | Rated T | cw: hurt/no comfort | tags: failed proposal, break-up, angst

DAY 29 - SPICY CONTENT (MATURE OR EXPLICIT)

safe and warm by steddieas-shegoes | Rated E | cw: dom/sub | tags: soft dom eddie munson, sub steve harrington, service mouth steve harrington, cockwarming, overuse of terms of endearment, subspace, coming untouched, aftercare

Art by @house-of-the-moving-image

Rainbow in the Dark by @thisapplepielife | Rated E | cw: sexual content, 18+, mentions of recreational weed use | tags: post s4, eddie munson lives, first time, fooling around in the van, inexperience, grinding, bisexual steve harrington, bisexual eddie munson, eddie pov

A well-rounded meal by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated E | cw: sexually explicit content, d/s dynamic, cockwarming, humiliation kink, praise kink, subspace | tags: dom steve, sub eddie

naturally induced by @lingeringmirth | Rated E | cw: intersex omega eddie, vaginal knotting | tags: omegaverse, omega eddie munson, alpha steve harrington, pregnant eddie, inducing labor through sex, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, knotting, bit of a breeding kink, sappily in love steve, all the banter

Size doesn't matter. by a timeofyourlife | Rated M | no cw | tags: established relationship, steve has a small dick

Call Me by @wormdebut | Rated E | no cw | tags: phone sex, football player steve, rockstar eddie, slutty dudes, masturbation

DAY 30/31 - NEW YEAR'S EVE / RESOLUTIONS

new year, new me by steddieas-shegoes | Rated E | cw: semi-public sex, unsafe sex, under-negotiated kink | tags: strangers to lovers, meet-horny, rock star eddie munson, actor steve harrington, modern au, dirty talk, light dom/sub, anal fingering, anal sex

We'll give it a shot by just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated G | cw: aftermath of injury, aftermath of trauma | tags: established relationship, recovery, fluff

Go With This by @thisapplepielife | Rated M | cw: underage drinking, weed, off-screen sex while under the influence | tags: post s4, eddie munson lives, new year's eve party, all the teens, kissing at midnight, getting together, morning after, eddie pov

Happy New Year by @atimeofyourlife | Rated G | no cw | tags: minor steddie

364 days later by @katyawriteswhump | Rated T | cw: off-screen/pre-fic violence including domestic violence | tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, established steddie

being brave by lingeringmirth | Rated G | no cw | tags: new year's eve, first kiss, fluff

Last Few Minutes For Another Lifetime by @klausinamarink | Rated G | no cw | tags: modern au, post-breakup, getting back together, hopeful ending

Don't cha wanna dance? by just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated T | cw: vague boner references | tags: no UD au, dancer steve harrington, good neighbor eddie munson, flirting, sexual tension

Doomsday clock by @hellfireloserclub | Rated T | no cw | tags: fluff, PTSD, apocalypse

A kiss for the New Year by atimeofyourlife | Rated T | no cw | tags: past stommy, past stancy, steddie dads

New by @vecnuthy | Rated G | no cw | tags: pre-steddie

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddieholidaydrabbles #stranger things #masterlist

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