#to be clear I still need him as Colin. He just needs a second job

[doomed2repeat]

I need Luke Newton to get a project away from Bridgerton and the Bridgerton fandom because they really don’t deserve him.

[babytarttdoodoo]

hi! i love your writing! i have a prompt for colin and isaac (platonic) please! could you write something where colin gets hurt- maybe one of the more serious injuries he's had while playing, and isaac is beside himself with worry and being a protective bestie the whole time, maybe with a hug and isaac managing to throw in a stilted 'i love you' to colin after colin's all patched up?

What a delight to write these two! Thank you for the prompt!

---

“You did that on fucking purpose, you smarmy arsehole!”

Typical, really, that Jamie’s screeching voice was the first to cut through the white haze of pain that had enveloped Colin’s senses. The man spoke at a pitch that really carried.

He still sounded distant, though, which was a good indicator the outrage wasn’t directed at Colin himself. In fact, now more of the outside world was filtering in, he could hear a lot of yelling that was happening above and around him.

Oh, and a whistle. That was loud.

He must have groaned or given some other kind of indication he was awake and aware since firm hands planted themselves on his shoulder and head.

“Don’t move, yet, Hughes. They’re bringing out a stretcher for you.”

“What happened?” Colin asked, though it came out as a mushy mumble of nonsense, rather than actual words. He tried to open his eyes, not managing more than a pained squint in the face of the harsh light that punished him for the effort.

“Is he awake? Let me through!” That was definitely Isaac, a realisation that made Colin relax. It was fine if he didn’t know what was going on - his captain was looking out for him.

“Calm down, McAdoo, let us do our jobs. We need to get him off the pitch.”

A whistle sounded again and Colin flinched when it seared through his head. “Fucking hell.”

The nameless figure holding him down gave an amused huff. “See? He’s fine. Now clear a path.”

Seconds, minutes, maybe hours passed Colin by in a blur of more hands and lights and voices. Sense crept back in gradually, impeded by dips in and out of consciousness and the heady pull of medication that worked to force the pain beneath a wash of numbness.

Eventually, though, he came back to himself. Sore, nauseated and confused above all else.

It wasn’t grass under his hands anymore. Instead, his fingers dug into soft sheets as he struggled towards wakefulness. The shouting and whistles and chaos had been replaced by a soft, rhythmic beeping.

Colin opened his eyes. “Am I in hospital?”

“Jesus!” Someone startled to his right and it took more effort than was really fair to turn his head. Isaac was poised half-out of a chair at Colin’s bedside, staring at him like he’d just seen a ghost. “You’re awake,” he stated.

“Yeah, thanks for that, mate.” Colin made a valiant attempt at sitting up and was immediately halted by a spike of pain through his skull. “Ahhhh no, not doing that, fuck…”

“Shit. Here, let me…” Isaac scrambled for what looked like a bulky old tv remote and held down a button. The bed rose steadily under Colin’s back and left him in a gently reclined position with much less fuss. “Better?”

“Yeah, yeah, loads. Thanks.” Colin cleared his throat, looking around at the small, quiet room. The only things of note were the machines and equipment currently hooked up to him in one way or another. “Why am I in the hospital?”

“You don’t remember?” Isaac frowned. “You got kicked in the fucking head, bruv.”

Colin blinked. That explained the headache, then. “Oh. How’d that happen?”

Isaac sank back into his chair and dragged his hands over his face. He was still in his Richmond trackies.

“You got tackled in the first half. Went down hard.” Colin remembered that bit, vaguely. Another player’s foot had clattered against his shins before his momentum sent him to the ground. “Colbridge ran right over your skull. Said it was an accident.”

Colin winced, reaching up to check that his head was, in fact, all in one piece. He could feel a patch of gauze taped in place above his left temple. “Was it?” he croaked.

Something dark passed over Isaac’s expression. “Dunno. Jamie didn’t think so. He got sent off for taking a swing.”

“What?!” Colin gaped at Isaac’s unaffected shrug. “What happened with the match? Did we win?”

“Two all. It don’t matter.”

“Of course it does, mate! We needed the points!” Colin groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. “Roy’s going to be so mad.”

“Yeah, well, he went in front of the cameras and demanded a League investigation so he’s probably going to be pissed off for a bit anyway. I should text him, actually, he wanted to know when you were awake…”

“Investigation?” Colin repeated faintly. “That not a bit much, mate?”

Isaac fell quiet and Colin chanced another look at him. His face was set in deep, solemn lines, eyes flitting over Colin’s frame every so often, as if checking he was still as intact as at the last glance.

“You didn’t see yourself,” he said finally, quiet. “Blood all over you. You wouldn’t wake up properly, couldn’t answer any of the medics’ questions. Beard went with you in the ambulance and we all had to just… keep playing. It was bad.”

He leaned back in his chair, taking a deep, shaky breath.

“Then we got off the pitch and couldn’t come see you right away. The fucking press kept showing the footage over and over, and Jamie was getting questioned about what he did, and Roy was storming around yelling at everyone…” Isaac shook his head. “We were really worried, mate. I didn’t know if…”

“Oh.” Colin said again, not sure what else he could add to all that. The thought of his unconscious, bleeding face being broadcast across the country was more than a little disconcerting. “Did... Has anyone phoned my mum?”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck, sorry,” Isaac nodded quickly. “Nate called her while Roy dealt with the press stuff. Told her you were gonna be alright as soon as we got the okay from the doctors. And I got a hold of Michael. Rebecca’s sent a car to drive him up from London.”

Colin blinked. That was nice. “How long have I been out?”

Isaac checked his phone for the time before opening up a chat window. “Match ended about four hours ago. He should be here soon, actually.”

He typed out a few rapid messages while Colin digested all that information. Head wounds bleed a lot, he knew. It wasn’t surprising that he’d made a scary picture. It still seemed like Isaac was on edge, though, considering he’d apparently been given the all clear.

“Surprised Jamie was the one who got a red card,” he ventured eventually. Isaac snorted.

“Yeah, well, the rest of us were holding back Richard and forgot to keep him in check too.”

“Why did he think it wasn’t an accident?”

Isaac’s thumbs paused over his screen. He didn’t meet Colin’s eyes. “... he got to you first. Head Colbridge say some shit. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“Isaac.” He smiled a little when his friend reluctantly raised his head. “I can handle it, boyo.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” Isaac objected immediately. He huffed. “He was being a homophobic piece of shit and it’s not your problem, alright? Like I said, Jamie smacked him and Roy’s taking care of the official stuff. It’s being sorted.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Colin sighed, looking down at his hands. “I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s not your fault,” Isaac cut him off firmly. “It’s him, and the League, and every other fucker who thinks they’ve got any right to...”

He quietened down again, all the fight seeping out of his broad frame with another look at his friend laid up in a hospital bed.

“This doesn’t get to happen again.”

Colin swallowed against the swell of emotion in his throat and closed his eyes again when his vision blurred. He did his best to ignore the streak of tears he felt run down his cheek and trusted Isaac to do the same. “Yeah, alright. Whatever you say, captain.”

The careful arms around his shoulders were a surprise.

Isaac didn’t squeeze tight or pull him closer, just held him against his solid, warm weight. It was unbearably comforting and Colin tentatively put his arms around him in kind, mindful of the wires and tubes connected to his hands.

“I’ll be alright, y’know,” he told him gently. Isaac made a soft, wet sound.

“I love you too, bruv. Should have said it before." Now he squeezed, seemingly taking strength from it. "This doesn’t happen again.”

[maximumgreenbeans]

Alright, so I have big feelings and thoughts about Ted Lasso! Todays episode was major. 

Big old feelings about it under the cut + spoilers 

I know a lot of us are very used to queer plot lines that focus on the trauma and suffering and they are important stories to tell but they’re not the only ones, there’s the joy that comes with it as well. What we got with this episode was the perfect mix of both. Because of toxic locker room and football culture it was impossible for Colin’s arc to not involve any level of pain or suffering, the important thing is that the resolution to the episode was acceptance and love. 

I know there are people who aren’t super pumped about the fact that we didn’t actually see Colin come out to the team on camera and that’s super understandable, I think it would’ve been a really nice moment to see. And in any other circumstances I’d probably be pretty miffed that the focus was on the reaction of the straight people (well predominantly straight people) in the room but in this case I think that was the right move. From what we’ve learnt about him and his sexuality Colin doesn’t appear to be ashamed of his identity, the reason he isn’t out is because of how football, historically, is bigoted and full of hatred, especially for queer people (I’ve been doing research as I’m writing a play about the impact homophobia in football has on queer fans and the feedback is dire). Colin is in the closet for his own safely and to protect his career, he’s closeted because he doesn’t know how his teammates will react, and as nice as these guys are it’s not guaranteed they’ll react with kindness. So seeing the reaction is vital, we as the audience need to know that Colin is safe and supported, which we do see, he is met with love and acceptance, he gets his second best case scenario. And there’s something gorgeous about how it’s been treated by the writers and the cast. 

I’m also in love with Colin and Issacs ending, Billy and Kola do such a phenomenal job with it, I’ve been obsessively watching it and analysing the acting (my actor brain very rarely switched off), and the way they’ve approached the text and the situation is stunning, they knew what they were doing and they delivered. With them it’s in the little things, and it reads so clearly. 

I just feel like the way the show approached this storyline was wonderful, there are so many ways they could have gone about this and we also got the second best option (I stand with Colin on what the best case scenario is). This obviously won’t be the end of this arc, but we’ve hit such a nice place with it. I do have a feeling it’s going to go down hill for Colin (I could be completely wrong but given we’ve still got a few episodes to go I think we’re going to get a bigger resolution which means we need a bigger fall first, but that’s just me speculating, only time will tell if I’m on to something) but he’s now got the whole team behind him, he’s not going through it alone. At the end of the day this is a show about found family and community more than it is football and that was made abundantly clear at the end of today’s episode. 

Just as a queer footy fan who’s had to deal with homophobia at matches this episode felt extremely poignant and necessary. 

[forensicated]

Smiffina Episodes - Episode 287

Again, not a Smiffina episode but something huge that affects both of them is about to happen very soon so they still need covering as it contains background info.

Neil can't believe what Andrea has told him. He claims that he's fallen for someone who doesn't exist and that he's about to be the next headline because of it, with Andrea claiming she'd never do that to him. He asks her if she's ever used any of the information that he'd given her - she can't answer him. He can't trust her, despite his feelings. Andrea tells him that he has a story that will benefit Sun Hill and that in doing so the paper won't run the story about her undercover identity so she an leave without anyone knowing the truth. "Except I do." Neil swallowed, saying the next move is damage limitation... they tell Adam. Andrea claims there's another way, that keeps them together too. Neil refuses and Andrea tells him to do what he thinks he has to, leaving his office. Andrea is horrified to see him go through to Adam's office.

Colin lingers in Custody, watching Tony and Reg dealing with a rough arrest. He smirks and watches everything, with Smithy reminding him he's only a PCSO and not 'a proper copper' and sends him home.

A nervous Andrea arrives the next day, unsure if she still has a job. She's confused when Adam calls her 'PC Dunbar'. June finds her and tells her that DI Manson has asked for her to be seconded to CID for the day. She's surprised, but happy - and hurries upstairs. Neil is in robot mode, telling her to and in her notice at the end o the day. He refuses to allow her exposure to derail the serial rapist case and has invented some work for her to do in BIU so she isn't involved in 'proper police work'. Andrea begs him to reconsider, telling him they can still be together without it ruining his career. He won't listen and storms out the station to head to court.

On her way to BIU, Smithy is accosted by Andrea who tells him that they have a new area of investigation now they know that he is June's son. Smithy tells her to drop it as it risks his and Gina's job. She tells him she'll be careful and that she's going to dig into the Kent family who adopted him. "I told you yesterday that this is getting way out of hand. Why are you behaving like this?" Smithy asks. "Because too much depends on it!"

Colin is first on the scene just before Gabriel and Reg to a call at a garage where Colin used to work and where his friend is racially abusing an Asian customer. It's clear Colin is amused by the chaos and that he agrees with what his friend is saying. He's not impressed when his friend is arrested for damaging the customers car and the racial abuse. Reg reports this to Smithy and tells him it wasn't Colin who called it in but the gentleman being abused. He also tells him that the gentleman told him that Colin displayed a racist attitude - that Reg says he didn't see - but he did see Colin amused by it all.

Smithy finds Andrea digging into the Kent family. What a surprise, Gabriel's brother (or rather, Gabriel himself, but Smithy nor Andrea know this yet) has a full article where the headline mentions 'adopted son Gabriel Kent'. Quite impressive considering that Andrea's search term is just 'Gabriel Kent' with no keywords or narrowing down. She tells Smithy that Gabriel's brother (aka: Gabriel himself) was in the navy and he served in the Gulf. Jason Hardy - aka the sniper - also spent time in the Gulf with the special boat service.

She suggests that Gabriel knew the sniper through his brothers link. Smithy says it's no proof and MIT wouldn't be interested. He tells her to let it go. Instead she rings Bruce and asks him to look into it. Bruce gives her the number of a contact, claiming that if he can't help her, noone can. He tells her that her expose is ready - she hasn't got long for her big 'splash'.

In interview, Reg tells the man that Colin has it recorded in his record book that it was him who started being racist. He refutes it and claims that Colin laughed at him and didn't stop the abuse or help him. In another interview room, Smithy is interviewing the man arrested. He lets on the he knows Colin - he's even one of his referees on his PCSO form. Neither June nor Smithy believe Colin's claim that it was the customer who started it all. June says the garage owner could have leant on him and that he could still be worth keeping. Smithy disagrees, thinking he's inherently racist.

Bruce's contact is definitely no Bruce fan, Andrea reassures him that the story is her own and that it's her ticket away from Bruce's paper. She tries to sweet talk him and ask him and asks for his help and she claims that it's public interest for the story to get out. She admits she has her own reasons, but it's a story that needs to be told so the man can be locked up before he does anymore harm. The contact goes to make a telephone call and tells Andrea she's struck Gold. Kent and Hardy did a tour of the Gulf at the same time. There was an incident where innocents were targeted and the two were not happy with how it was handled officially so they dished out their own justice. There's apparently a photograph that backs it up...

Smithy questions Colin about what really happened, telling him they know that he's a friend of the garage manager AND that he was called personally on his mobile rather than it being an official call until the customer rang it in. Colin tells Smithy he thought he could handle it and that was why he didn't ring it in. He also claims that the racism was both ways and the customer started it. He tells Colin that it doesn't matter if it's his grandma, he is to be neutral at all times and that if he catches even a sniff of anything racist coming from him, he is out of the station. He walks off before he can answer Smithy. Luckily for him Andrea is in the doorway waiting for Smithy so Smithy cannot continue the matter with him.

Andrea tells him she's done it - she's found the link and will have evidence by lunchtime the next day and that Gabriel will not wriggle out of it this time. She goes to see Neil straight after, she tells him that she's nailed a much bigger story and that it's going to be the front page - she just needs 24 more hours. She claims they're off the hook as long as he can give her it and that they can be together. "By lunchtime tomorrow, all our worries will be over."

Neil doesn't know what to believe but he softens and allows her the 24 hours. She tells him she's booked a hotel - and he agrees to go with her. Unfortunately Bruce has jumped the shark and gives Jack and Adam a copy of the next days headline...

...after telling them that Andrea was called to give evidence in the Alan Kennedy trial.

[ithebookhoarder]

I'm so glad someone else loves Colin Bridgerton as much as I do. your relationship head canons had me squealing 🥰🤯 I just love imagining him as a dad, as he'd be the best ever. Like. He'd be so happy ❤️❤️‍🔥

Weak In The Knees (Colin Bridgerton x F!Reader)

A/N: Oh my god. I know! Colin has such a special place in my heart, both from the show and especially from the books. He is a sweetheart and a gem - and you're right. He'd be a ball of sunshine if he found out he was going to be a father... so, here's a hasty one shot that seemed to write itself 😅

Bridgerton Masterlist

You’d stood up too quickly.

You knew it the moment you rose from the settee. It was the same quick rush of blood that you’d felt more and more frequently the past few weeks, ever since your husband had left to visit his sister up in Scotland.

Originally, you’d planned on going along with him, but your uneasy stomach had prevented you. You’d been feeling all too sick to even entertain the long carriage ride up north, but you’d insisted Colin still go and visit his sister, Francesca. After all, it had been long enough and you knew he’d missed her dearly.

You’d insisted you were fine to stay home and rest… and rest you had, knowing your condition would only continue to persist for some time yet, if the doctor was to be believed. Yet, you couldn’t help it.

As soon as you heard the sound of the door opening, you turned, leapt to your feet, and beamed at your husband waltzing in to the room with his oh-so-charming grin - you couldn’t help but be excited to see him. You’d practically been counting down the hours until he returned.

“Y/n-”

“Colin-”

You had merely stated his name, and then you felt your knees go.

Before you can so much as make a noise of warning, you felt your knees buckle and the room start to spin all around you.

A pair of arms wrapped themselves around you and you collided with another body just before consciousness abandoned you entirely.

When you awoke a minute or two later, you found yourself lying on the settee you’d just vacated, your feet propped up on a spare cushion, and a concerned looking husband staring down at you.

His fingers were warm as he pressed a hand against your cheek, brushing your hair from your face as he often did when you woke in the mornings. For a second, you almost forgot you were in your living room instead.

“Welcome back, sweetheart,” Colin chuckled weakly. HIs smile did a remarkable job of masking his concern, but you could see the panic in his eyes as clear as day. It was the same look he had when Gregory fell and scraped his knee, or when Eloise had spent the night before her debut lamenting that she would be an utter failure; it was his protectiveness seeping through. “How’re you feeling?”

“Fine,” you sigh. “No worse for wear. I must have stood up too quickly, is all.”

You blinked your eyes open slowly, glancing around the room, relieved to find it empty - at least he hadn’t summoned every servant in the house in his panic. As much as your staff were aware of your condition, you still didn’t feel like brushing off a stream of concerned enquiries as to your welfare.

If only Colin could be so easily swayed.

His concerned face swam into view as your vision cleared and you shook your head, dislodging his hand in the process.

“Well, you gave me a right scare. You seem lucid, and you didn’t hit your head, which is good,” he commented, as if he had somehow visited a medical academy on one of his many expeditions. “I’d still like to call for Doctor Ffoulkes to come and take a look at you, just to make sure you’re alright - especially as I thought you said you were feeling better, else I’d never have left. However, I know you’re not an enthusiast for him or doctors in general - ”

“Correct,” you say firmly, but not unkindly.

After all, you knew what was the cause of this swooning fit and you didn’t need another doctor to tell you that. You were more concerned with the fact that your traitorous body seemed to wish to tell Colin exactly what was happening, before you could get the chance to do so yourself.

It didn’t seem to matter that you’d spent the last few days going over what you were going to say and when. Perhaps Kate and Daphne had been right when they’d said the best way to address these sorts of things was to just come out and say them.

Unless your body beat you to it.

“If you’re a good husband, Colin, and don’t call for the doctor I’ll let you take me upstairs to lie down. And if you’re really good, I won’t even put up a fuss… I might even let you lie down with me.”

Colin chuckled under his breath and rolled his eyes; he was more than familiar with your attempts at bribery by this point in your marriage.

Yet, he knew a victory when he was offered one, so quickly held out a hand to help you up.

“So be it, but perhaps joining you wouldn’t be the most intelligent decision right now, sweetheart. After all, I don’t know if you could handle my presence,” Colin teased playfully. “You did just swoon at the mere sight of me.”

“You flatter yourself, sir.”

“Says the woman that did a faint worthy of the theatre.”

You swatted at him in lieu of a response, choosing instead to swing your legs over the edge of the couch. However, a lifetime of avoiding similar attacks from his siblings ensured Colin had lightening quick reflexes and he was easily able to black your arm before you could make contact.

“Colin,” you whined.

“Y/N.”

“Oh, you’re annoying.”

“And yet, you love me and go weak in the knees around me.”

Somehow, you knew you’d be hearing about this incident for some time - particularly if his family found out. Lord help you if your brothers in law, or even Eloise, heard how you’d fainted in your husband’s presence. It would be a joke until your hairs turned grey.

Still, it was a little hard to be embarrassed when your husband was smiling down at you as only he could. His smile was nothing short of infectious, even as his hand slid along your forearm and came to rest at your wrist.

You can feel the lingering undercurrent of his worry by the way he allowed himself to feel the steady fluttering of your heartbeat, as if taking it as confirmation you were indeed recovered for now.

“I’m going to be fine, Colin,” you whispered softly.

Colin nodded, pressing a kiss to your lips in a gesture meant to reassure the both of you.

“Yes, you are,” he affirmed, his tone leaving it impossible not to feel well cared for. The poor man sounded as if it was now his life’s mission to nurse you back to health, no matter what it cost. “I’m home now and I’ll take care of you.”

“You mean, take care of us.”

“Us?” Colin repeated. “What do you mean? Is someone else ill?”

“No, not exactly.”

You let your words hang between you for a moment before you took his hand once more and guided it to rest against your stomach. It still took Colin a moment longer of staring at you before he finally seemed to realise what it was you were saying.

You knew the moment the proverbial penny dropped.

It was as if someone had lit a match and set light to a hundred fireworks the way Colin erupted. He was on his feet instantly, hauling you into his arms and twirling you about as he began to cheer.

“We’re having a baby?”

He said it over and over again, as if he was still trying to believe it. Lord only knows what the poor staff out in the hallway were thinking, given how loud he was whooping and hollering as if he had just discovered the key to eternal life.

Then again, he had been granted something just as precious. The tears pouring from his eyes only confirmed it.

No wonder you also started crying - though you could reasonably blame your condition. You were allowed to be a little more emotional than usual.

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner but I didn’t know until you’d left and by then it didn’t feel right to tell you by letter - especially as it would have reached you as you were coming home anyway -“

Colin silenced your ramble with a kiss that took more than just your words away.

His face softened as he held you against him in his arms. He murmured your name, tenderly taking your face in his hands.

"I love you," he said, his voice low and fervent. "I love you with everything I am, everything I've been, and everything I hope to be."

He bent forward and kissed you, once more, softly, on the lips.

“And I love this child and the years we'll have together… we’ll be a family… a happy, loving, family of our own - our greatest adventure yet.”

You couldn’t agree more.

Masterlist

[hacash]

What do you think about the whole "Colin will score a winning goal against West Ham to prove Nate wrong" thing, because it strikes me as such a fascinating case of how wildly different readings of the core themes can be. Like, as I see it, this story isn't about Nate being humiliated or needing to be put into his place or anything, because he already has those serious self esteem issues. And so how I interpret his need to get past this reliance on external validation is that he has to win but find that isn't actually giving him what he wants. Which leaves me struggling to understand the thematic value of the alternative that is the Colin-scoring-Nate-being-proven-wrong thing. I'm not sure how much of that is just my instinctive recoiling at what feels like potential development for a quite minor character at the expense of the show's most important character of colour. So I'd be curious to know your thoughts!

-

Thanks for your question, nonnie! So I’ve seen these predictions and like you, I’m not a big fan. I don’t think Nate needs to be ‘punished’ by anyone, particularly not Colin (because that’s just not the sort of show Ted Lasso is) for various reasons.

- The idea that Nate needs to be punished/humiliated/’taken down a peg’. I don’t see the fandom obsession over this, because as the show has already made it perfectly clear, Nate’s self-esteem is already wholly fucked. There’s literally no narrative value in rubbing it in further. So much of Nate’s arc has been showing his situation to be more complicated than just ‘villain who needs to be taken down’, and it’s wild how many viewers don’t see that.

- On the subject of punishment: it’s interesting that even for truly villainous characters with no redeeming features whatsoever on this show, humiliation and punishment comes as a result of their own actions, it’s not ‘dealt out’ to them. James Tartt is flung out of his ass from the locker room as a result of him abusing his son; Rupert gets humiliated in the darts match as a result of grandstanding against Ted. Now, I know a lot of fandom is typifying West Ham as the stand-in ‘villain team’ who are ‘bad’ just for having the temerity to play against Richmond, but in-universe it’s just another football team trying to win the Premier League. Moreover there’s nothing actually villainous about Nate moving to a new team and trying to get them to win the League, people move to new jobs and try to get their new organisations to succeed all the time. And so I can’t see him getting ‘punished’ for that specific action.

- The idea of Colin scoring a winning goal against West Ham to prove Nate wrong is a very triumphant story arc, if you only focus on half the story. ‘Colin scores a goal to prove his former bully wrong’ is great; ‘Colin harassed and bullied Nate for God-knows how long and then scores a goal against Nate’s new team’ is just an arc with a bit of nothing in it, to be honest. A lot of fandom tends to forget just how much Colin bullied Nate originally – now, obviously this doesn’t justify Nate’s own dickishness, but by presenting the relationship as totally one-sided, fandom deliberately ignores a lot of what actually went down. If Colin gets to 'triumph' over Nate for what Nate said to him, what does Nate get to do to 'triumph' over Colin and Isaac and Jamie for all the crap they put him through?

- I know that fandom likes to infantilise Colin as a hopeless Welsh baby who was suffering for weeks and weeks after Nate insulted him, but there is zero evidence for that anywhere on screen. We see Colin get hurt by Nate’s words and looking still hurt when Nate steps up the following morning, but literally the second Nate apologises he’s all smiles and immediate forgiveness, willingly giving Nate a hug and joining in with presenting Nate with the jersey at the end of the day. So if there’s no lingering bad blood (on Colin’s side at least – I’m convinced Nate still holds some ill-feelings for the whole ‘bullying the kitman’ thing), what’s the narrative pay-off in Colin ‘triumphing’ over West Ham in season 3?

- As you said, the idea of massive development for a minor white character at the expense of the most major character of colour in the show (who has been shown time again to be vulnerable and struggling ffs) leaves a very sour taste to the mouth. Colin’s one of my favourite characters on the show, but he is a minor character. Not only would an arc like that leave a bad taste in the mouth, but it makes very little narrative sense – we’ve only had a couple of scenes with Nate and Colin together, there’s not enough audience buy-in for a scene like this to have much significance.

- Finally, the writers have publicly said that the one thing they weren't expecting from s2 was such extreme and unjustified backlash against Nate, and they don't want him typified as a villain in s3. So yeah, I'm not sure a big 'Colin triumphant over Nate' scene is in the cards.

All this being said, I love Nate’s relationship with the Himbos and with Colin in particular, so I’m sure that something interesting could be made of the West Ham match and I'm really looking forward to seeing what goes down there! I just don't think it'll be the straight up, rubbing-Nate's-nose-in-it 'success story' some folks seem to be expecting.

[arrowflier]

Fic prompt: How do people who tangentially know Ian react when Gay Jesus goes viral? Do they reach out to Ian/the Gallaghers? Lip's college friends, Milkovich cousins, ROTC classmates, Kash and Linda ... Is Gus Pfender telling someone Gay Jesus was his brother-in-law for 4 seconds? :D

I Heard it Through the Grapevine

“This is a pretty new one,” Gus Pfender said into the mic, sitting onstage at a little bar on the outskirts of New York City. “About a girl I knew a while back. A girl that was totally crazy, you all know the type.” He paused and waited for the knowing laughter to die down.

“No, but really though, she was!” he continued, idly tapping on the neck of his guitar as he talked. “She got me to marry her and everything, then slept with her ex, then tried to marry some other guy before we were even separated! Can you believe that?”

The laughter was more awkward that time, but he didn’t notice.

“Anyway, turns out she came by crazy honestly, runs in the family or something.” Even his band mates were starting to get a little antsy behind him, but he wasn’t quite done throwing his ex under the metaphorical bus.

“Yeah, get this—her little brother started a cult, called himself Gay Jesus or somethin’. Just saw him on the news—he blew up a van!” Gus laughed so hard he almost fell off his stool, but the audience was quiet.

The drummer cleared his throat behind him, and Gus finally got with the program, righting himself and coughing into the mic before saying, “Anyway, here it is; sing along loud if you know it, maybe she’ll hear us all the way back in Chicago.”

And he launched into the opening chords of “Fuck You Fiona”.

In the audience, Mandy Milkovich straightened up at the first round of Fiona’s name echoing around the dimly lit room. Her date—well, her client—touched her arm, and she jerked away before she could remember herself. Remember that she was supposed to like being touched, now.

“Sorry,” she simpered at the short older man, putting her hand on his when he let it fall to the table between them. “You just surprised me, hun.”

She smiled at him sweetly, pressing her tongue to the back of her teeth until it hurt. “Be right back,” she promised him quickly, before standing and grabbing her purse from the back of her chair. “Just need to go freshen up for you.”

She cringed as she said it, but it had the desired effect, the man just waving her away as he turned his attention back to the stage just in time for the rousing chorus of “fuck you”.

As soon as the bathroom door slammed shut behind her, Mandy was leaning over the sink, breathing heavily. Chicago. Fiona. Crazy family. Little brother.

Ian.

She fumbled in her purse for her phone, a sleek black thing that one of her more dedicated clients had bought for her. She swiped past the homescreen that he had set to a picture of the two of them, and opened up her browser.

Ian Gallagher she typed in, holding her breath as the results of the search loaded.

It came out in a single whoosh when she saw it, leaving her limp against the dirty porcelain.

Chicago’s Ian ‘Gay Jesus’ Gallagher Charged with Arson and Destruction of Property read the very top headline. Mandy skimmed the rest through the tears that filled her eyes, not daring to let them fall.

Ian Gallagher, middle child of six, pled guilty by reason of insanity at his trial last week, claiming his unmedicated bipolar disorder was the reason for his irrational behavior.

Oh god, Ian.

Last time she saw him, Ian had his shit together. He had a job, and a boyfriend, and he was taking his meds, and he kept her calm and helped her deal with a fucking body and gave her a place to stay for the night. What had happened since then? How had things gone so wrong for him again?

She didn’t know. She needed to know. She needed to know that he was okay.

Mandy bit her lip, mind racing as she considered her options. None of them were good. Mickey was gone. She didn’t speak to the rest of her family. She could call Iggy, or Colin she supposed, but she wasn’t even sure they weren’t in jail themselves. Besides, if they weren’t, she didn’t want Terry overhearing.

With shaking hands, she dialed a number she had been pretending she didn’t know, instead. A number that she had been trying her best to forget.

Phillip Gallagher picked up on the very first ring.

“Yeah, alright. No, I know, Mandy. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you posted.”

Lip sighed as he pressed the end call button, rubbing a hand over his face. Joaquin, sitting next to him, blew a stream of smoke in Lip’s face until he straightened again, coughing.

“The hell was that for, asshole?” he asked, waving the smoke away. “You know how much shit I’m gonna get if Tami smells that on me?”

Joaquin snorted. “Still can’t believe you shacked up with your baby-mamma, man,” he teased. “You have a kid now, what the fuck?”

“Yeah, well,” Lip muttered, reaching over to steal the joint right out of his hand despite his warnings about the smell. “A lot of things have changed since the last time I saw you.”

No shit. The last time Joaquin had seen Lip Gallagher, he’d been helping him steal money from the high-end startup Lip was working for. Then he’d just disappeared, only to wander into the little cafe where Joaquin liked to take lunch just a few days ago. They’d been catching up a little bit each day since, but Joaquin’s head was still spinning trying to equate this short-haired, run-down family man with the brilliant guy he knew back in the day.

“So, who was that?” Joaquin pried. “Who’s Mandy? You two-timing your girl already, Gallagher?”

“Fuck no,” Lip exclaimed, nearly spitting out the joint. Joaquin snatched it back immediately—the Gallagher he knew never would have risked the good stuff like that.

“No,” Lip repeated more calmly. “I uh, used to date her,” he revealed. “Before I knew you. But that was a long time ago.”

Joaquin nodded. “So what’s she callin’ you for then?”

Lip rubbed at his lip—Joaquin giggled in his head at that thought—and went quiet for a long moment. Joaquin just sat by him and smoked, content to wait it out.

“She was asking about my brother,” Lip answered finally. “They were friends.”

“Which brother?” Joaquin questioned. “The janitor, or the crazy one?”

Lip eyed him oddly. “The janitor is the crazy one,” he said, but Joaquin shook his head.

“No, no,” he rambled, “the little guy, the one you thought was dealin’.”

“Carl?” Lip clarified, and laughed, fingers picking idly at the knee of his jeans. “Nah, Carl’s actually doin’ alright now, I think. It’s Ian. The one you met.”

“What’s goin’ on with him?”

Lip hesitated, and then, “You heard about Gay Jesus?” he asked, and Joaquin felt his eyes go wide. He almost dropped the joint himself this time.

“No way,” he breathed out. “That was him?” He gestured wildly. “With the kids, and the cult, and the van?”

“That was him,” Lip confirmed grimly. “Off his meds, we think. That’s what he says, at least.”

Joaquin whistled, and handed the joint back. “Think you need this more than me right now,” he said.

Lip didn’t disagree when he took it.

Linda looked up when a stranger entered her store, then promptly rolled her eyes and went back to her magazine. The kids were with the sitter and the store was practically empty, so there was no reason not to take some time for herself for once. A single stoner wandering around the aisles wasn’t that much of a concern.

Still, she kept an eye on him as he poked through what they had to offer. He wasn’t bad looking, despite his floppy hair and red-rimmed eyes—reminded her a little bit of a young Kash, even.

She promptly hated herself for thinking of her absent, no-good husband, and hated the stranger in the store for making her do it.

So when he finally came to the counter, holding two bags of chips and a Red Bull, she might have been just a tad ruder than normal.

“Put it on the counter,” she ordered gruffly when he just stood there, staring into space.

“Whoa, yeah, sorry, sorry,” he rambled, doing as he was bid. “Just came from visiting a buddy, guess I left my mind behind a bit, huh?” He giggled. A grown man just giggled in her store.

“Maybe you know them, the Gallaghers?” He continued while she rang him up. Her hands barely paused when she heard the name. That was a long time ago, and they didn’t come here anymore.

The stoner was still talking, though. “Man they’ve had some bad luck, you know?” He shook his head. “First with Lip’s stuff, now his brother again?”

Linda stilled, bag of chips still in hand.

“Which brother?” she asked despite herself. She shouldn’t care, but somehow she still did. That little shit had stolen her husband, got his boyfriend shot in her store, and bailed on her with no warning, but when he had been there, he had been good to her. Helped her run the store, even helped her with the kids if she begged. She’d been sad to hear it when he went off the rails, but the rumor around town was that he was doing better, now.

“The crazy red-haired one,” the stoner answered, and she guessed a rumor was all it had been. “They call him Gay Jesus now, he blew up a van and everything.”

“Ten seventy-five,” she told him, not commenting any more on the topic. It wasn’t her business.

But as the stranger walked out the door, leaving her to her magazine again, she considered sending some sort of basket to the Gallagher house. For old time’s sake.

She was so caught up in her thoughts, she didn’t even notice the bell over the door ring a second time as someone else hurried out.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Iggy Milkovich muttered to himself as he rushed off down the street away from the Kash’N’Grab, forgetting to even steal anything in his hurry.

Ian fucking Gallagher. Gay fucking Jesus. How had nobody around him seen that coming?

Iggy remembered when Ian was living with them, before he went crazy the first time. Or while he went crazy the first time? Who fucking knew, that kid was always off the rails if he thought taking up with Iggy’s kid brother right under Terry’s nose was a good fucking idea.

But there was that one time, when things were mostly still going good, when he remembered hearing Mickey talk to his boy about crashing some funeral. A funeral for a fairy soldier that Ian knew when he was going by his brother’s name out at bootcamp. They’d come home from that thing with Ian practically vibrating, bouncing off the walls with fury at the protest they had wandered into, and he had seen the way it made Mickey freak out.

Mickey was in Mexico now. Iggy knew that. Everybody fucking knew that, even if they pretended they didn’t. And it was a bad fucking idea for him to find out about this, for so many reasons.

But Iggy couldn’t do that to his brother. He couldn’t hide something like this. And if Mickey found out some other way, from someone else…well. There was no saying what stupid shit that fucker might do.

So when he got home, he hit the bong to calm his racing heart. Then he picked up the phone, and dialed a number he wasn’t supposed to know.

“Yeah, thanks Ig,” Mickey said into his burner phone. “I already knew.”

His partner for the day, some new cartel wannabe that got paired up with the Gringo to see how he managed the streets, gave him a weird look as he shoved the phone into the pocket of his jeans.

“Who was that?” the burly man asked, voice rough, and Mickey rolled his eyes.

“Your girlfriend,” he answered dryly. “Wanted to know if I had dropped your ass in the grave yet so we can go fuck in peace.”

The idiot looked like he actually believed it, and Mickey snorted.

“A fuckin’ contact, okay?” he revealed. “And none of your fuckin’ business ‘til you manage to climb the ladder past ‘basic bitch errand boy’, so get the shit and let’s get movin’.”

At least the moron followed instructions.

Mickey wiped a hand over his face while the other man’s back was turned, gathering himself. It was confirmed, then. First by those weird-ass rainbow shirts, and now by Iggy, who wouldn’t lie to him about something like that. Ian Gallagher had gotten himself in trouble, and Mickey wasn’t there to save him this time.

He sighed as his partner came back with the rest of the goods, and they set off to a new position on the next corner.

One way or another, it looked like Mickey Milkovich was going back to Chicago.

[milkiane]

lost time

pairings: colin zabel x reader

warnings: mentions of food, awkward mare lol

word count: 1834

note: because colin is alive and well, watching marvel movies with you and reggie <3

a soft graze upon your forehead caused you to stir a bit from the slumber you were in. eyes blurred and mind still disoriented, you let out a puzzled hum.

colin sighed, his hopes of not waking you up went down low as you rubbed the somnolence away with your hand.

“go back to sleep, sweetheart,” he whispered, caressing your hair.

“work?” you mumbled, forcing back a yawn.

colin hummed, making you frown. as much as you loved seeing your husband at the peak of his career, all of his hard work finally paying off- making him one of the infamous detectives in pennsylvania, it didn’t mean you never longed to have his presence around more.

“can’t you have a day off? just f’today?” you asked, words slurring with sleep, “reggie and i missed you, colin.”

colin’s heart sank. he knew he was spending too much time at work again, only seeing you and his son whenever he comes home late from work, reggie asleep in his bed and you passed out on the living room from waiting up for him, or in the early morning before he goes to work.

“i’ll see what i can do, alright? mare and i have had plenty of information now and we’re so close to solving this case,” colin said, he paused for a bit to think, “but hey, i promise i’ll be home early today for some dinner date with you and reggie, maybe watch some movies if we have some time, is that fine?”

you mustered up a small smile, “sounds perfect, detective,” you leaned up to kiss him on the lips, “now go to work, we’ll see you later.”

with one last kiss on the forehead, colin brought the blankets up to your shoulders and left the room, going into the next one to take a peek at his son.

“mumma, where’s dad?” reggie, your three-year-old son, asked for the umpteenth time. dinner was ready; table mats and plates arranged, the cooked food you spent hours upon making served in your delicate chinawares, and chosen movies fiddled in the hands of your son.

before you could even answer him, the front door jingled, alongside the voice of your husband. you grinned at reggie and exclaimed, “oh- hey, see, daddy’s home!”

you turned back around to make sure everything was in order as your son waddled across the room and into the arms of his father, “hi there, li’l buddy!”

although when you pivoted around, the sudden arrival of another guest surprised you to the limit. mare sheehan, colin’s partner, was standing beside him, taking in the sight of your humble abode.

“oh,”

colin turned his gaze away from his son and to you. usually, the sight of you in his clothes, dinner ready, and soft music playing would have made him more laid back than he was at work, but seeing your hurt expression, dinner ready, and his son still awake, he knew he messed up.

he carefully placed his son back down, letting him shuffle back towards you, “y/n, i- work just caught up, and chief- chief said we have to- and we needed to talk- talk about the case, and i forg-”

pushing aside his stuttering excuse, you forced out a smile and looked at mare, who was just standing there awkwardly, “mare, hey,”

“hey, y/n,” she sent you a tight-lipped smile.

you grabbed reggie and placed him up in his high chair, “c’mon, dinner.”

colin stepped forward and tried to make you look at him, “y/n, i-”

you looked at him with a blank face and replied sternly, “sit down and eat, zabel,”

dinner was awkward and tense, to say the least. colin and mare were exchanging information and questions about the case whilst you were glaring at your husband every once in a while, feeding your son amidst the clattering of utensils and chatter.

there was a moment where silence filled up the room, the discussion of the case long over.

“delicious dinner you made, y/n,” mare cleared her throat, trying to diminish the awkward silence.

“yeah, dinner’s amazing, sweetheart.” colin agreed, trying to get to your best side by complimenting your cooking skills. he wasn’t lying though, it did taste immaculate.

“thanks, mare,” you replied, looking up for a second to acknowledge her, and only giving colin a side-eye.

you were still upset.

“auntie mare, you have cool nerf guns at work?” reggie asked, shaping his mashed potato into a small mountain.

mare blinked, looking between your son and you, “uh, yeah.”

“that’s cool!” reggie’s eyes widened in stupefaction, “you catch bad people like dad, too, auntie?”

mare hummed, sipping on the half-empty beer in her hand.

he whispered a small wow, before talking once more, doing an excellent job of clearing the aura of the room, “like spiderman? spiderman catch bad people, too, auntie! like a superhero,”

“mommy doesn’t catch bad people but she’s my fav’rite superhero.” reggie bragged, beaming at you as you wiped the potato off the corner of his mouth.

as your look softened, you kissed the nose of your son, “thanks, baby. that’s very sweet of you,”

colin smiled, slightly feeling bad for spending less time with his family. he knew that the case they’re working on is important, but he vowed that family always goes first and disregarded that- resulting in you and reggie missing him and colin forgetting that he has a family that he goes back home to.

smiling once more, you stood up, “c’mon, now, say goodnight to auntie mare, alright? we’ll get ready for bed and i’ll read you your favorite bedtime story, ‘kay?”

“but you said we’ll watch spiderman with daddy tonight,” he pouted, arms crossing as he slouched back on his chair.

you sighed, “i know i did, reggie, but daddy has some work to do. he needs to talk about catching the bad guys with auntie mare.”

“okay…” he frowned, raising his arms so that you could get him out of his chair, “good night, auntie mare and daddy.” you nodded politely to mare as you prepared your son for bed.

once he and mare finished off their deliberation on the case, colin got ready for bed and walked into your shared bedroom. seeing you curled up on your side, and asleep, colin sighed.

he never liked sleeping when he knows that you’re both going to bed with a heavy heart. the both of you always fixed things through before heading to bed. ending the night with soft kisses and cuddles.

but that wasn’t the case this time, so he got in under the comforters and turned off the lamp, debating whether or not he should wrap his arm around you.

deciding against it, he kissed your forehead instead and turned to face the other side.

reggie’s eyes slowly fluttered open, it was still dark outside. you promised that the three of you will be spending time together to watch spiderman once his dad got home, but reggie was too avid.

rubbing his eyes, he grabbed his plushie and opened the door of his bedroom, slowly waddling his way to your bedroom, whispering to himself to be careful not to hit anything.

a careful shake on colin’s arm woke him up, he let out a confused groan before begrudgingly opening his eyes.

“reggie? what’cha doin’ up, buddy?” he croaked out, rubbing his face in disarray. his gaze fell onto the clock, 02:34 am.

reggie slowly climbed onto the bed and colin opened his arms to bring him in, “just missed you so much, dad,”

colin’s heart ached. he carefully brought his son in the middle of the bed and let him cuddle further into his hug.

“mommy and i watch superhero movies, but i miss when you copy them in silly voices,” reggie mumbled, slowly feeling the sleepiness take over once more.

“‘m sorry, reggie, i’ll make it up to you and mommy tomorrow, okay?” said colin, he kissed his forehead and rubbed soothing caresses on his head to lull him back to sleep.

the chirping of the birds and the blinding light of the sun seeping through the window served as your wake-up call.

slightly turning around in bed, you sighed as you didn’t see colin in bed anymore. you didn’t know what to expect, of course he’d go back to work.

when you fully turned, you were confused to see reggie sleeping peacefully beside you, arms securely wrapped around his spiderman plushie.

you were about to stand up and make some breakfast when the door suddenly opened. the sight you’re suddenly seeing made you double-take, making sure that you weren’t dreaming.

colin carefully kicked the door a little wider, trying to balance the tray in his hands. when he looked up, he saw that you’ve already woken up, a dazed look on your face.

he smiled, “hey, you’re up. just in time for some breakfast in bed,”

“i thought you were at work,” you sat up, leaning against the headboard.

“made some calls with the chief a while ago, gave me the rest of the week off,” he said, he lowered the food tray on the bedside table and made his way towards reggie.

“reggie?” colin whispered, shaking the little boy a bit to wake him up, “reggie, wake up, buddy,”

he stirred a bit, whining at the sudden disturbance of his sleep.

“reggie, wakey-wakey,” he cooed, running a hand through his son’s hair, “hey, look. i made breakfast, we can watch a movie while eating like i promised, remember?”

“daddy?” he whispered, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to wake up.

“yeah, c’mon, sit up,” colin raised him slowly, resting him beside your arms, “there we go, now…”

“for breakfast,” he grinned, grabbing the tray and placing it on your lap. he grabbed reggie’s sippy cup, containing his favorite hot chocolate.

“choc’late?” reggie beamed, placing a hold on the bottle to warm his hands up.

“yeah! now, scootch over, we’ll eat together.”

glancing over your husband, a ghost of a smile appeared on your lips. you watched as your two favorite boys interacted, making up for lost time.

as reggie munched on his pancakes, a marvel movie playing on the television, colin sipped on his coffee and turned to look at you.

feeling the weight of his stare, you shifted your gaze away from the movie and stared right back, “what is it?”

he sighed, running a hand through his messy hair, “it’s just- i’m sorry, y/n. i know i haven’t been around much, spending too much time at work and little time with you guys. i just wanted to make it up to both of you.”

you smiled softly, placing your cup down, and leaned a bit to kiss his cheek, “s’alright, colin. you’re here now, and that’s what matters.”

grinning widely, the both of you turned your attention back to your son who’s babbling about how pepper potts and tony stark are like his parents.

add yourself to my taglist!

general taglist: @daltonacademia @inks-and-jinx @silencioe @oldschoolkiddo @midnightgremlin @inglourious-imagines @peterssweetpea @iwritesiriusly @fives-cup-of-coffee @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @band--psycho @marswilson24 @miraclesoflove @chokemepansy @spideyspixies @lolooo22 @justfangirlthingies @mypainistemporary @remugoodgirl @tatestripedsweater @gryffindorgirl @hellounicorn @l0vely-lupin @undeadcortez @thatspookyagent @evanmybeloved

colin zabel taglist: @xmaximoffic @raincoffeeandfandoms @tatesrubbersuit

[spookymultimedia]

Hopeless Romantic

Nadja confronts Lazlo when she believes he's in love with Colin Robinson

CW: spoilers for episode 3.10 of WWDITS

            It was noticeable. Nadja could see it as clearly as a moon against a cloudless sky. It was just obvious. Laszlo had caught feelings for someone. Not a passing fancy or something like an affair but genuine feelings. She dared to say her dear Laszlo was falling in love with Colin Robinson of all people. If she went back in time and told herself this she would have scoffed and told herself she is speaking nonsense but it was true. Lazlo didn't treat just anyone like that. She remembered when he looked at her with the same gentleness and adoration. What she couldn't understand is why he was still so aloof with him. Was he so coy because of her? She needed to have a word with him. Maybe he could assure him that it would be an arrangement she would not mind.

       That evening when they were alone in their bed chamber she brought it up. 

  "You and Colin seem rather close lately."

  "I haven't the foggiest idea what you mean, my beauty." He said while undressing from his clothes, facing away from her. 

        "I know what's going on." She smiled and softly poked his arm. "I can see it in your eyes."

       He remained silent for a moment and signed. 

  "Please, I can't stand him." He said softly, trying to keep the mood light but unfortunately his wife could read him like a book. She scoffed, offended at his denial. 

                      "Can't stand him!? Can't stand him!? Ha! If that is the case you are doing a terrible job of avoiding him." She marched in front of him and looked him in the eye.

       "Laszlo, baby, I've seen the way you look at other people. I look at other people, I've looked at Gregor, yes. But you don't just look at Colin you clearly see something in him that I can't see. Not to judge but I- I don't know how-," She thought for a moment and cleared her throat, getting back on topic, "Laszlo I think you're in love with him. . .and I think it's a beautiful thing."

          Laszlo tensed at her statement and widened his eyes like some kind of wild animal in a trap. His eyebrows raised up, tense against his forehead.

       "Why are you looking at me like that?" She laughed, "I know you." 

            "It's hopeless." He shook his head.

"No it's not, I bet he likes you too. You should tell him how you feel." She held his hands and looked into his eyes. He smiled coyly for a second before it washed away back into a frown. "It just wouldn't work out."

                               "You don't know that." She lowered her brows at him. 

  "Yes I do know that!" He withdrew his hands. She blinked at him and shrank. 

He put a gentle arm around her, "I'm sorry love. It's just-." He pursed his lips and took a shuttered breath. 

        "Lazlo, baby, what is wrong with you? You look terrible, like, you're haunted or something." She touched his face, she could feel his sadness. She looked at her eyes.

          "I . .I do believe I've fallen in love with Colin. But-"

                   "Yes?" 

   "I still love you too my dear, just as much," He smiled a moment, "and well,"He let out a heavy sigh. He walked over to his dresser and pulled out a coat, he took out the wrinkled page from a pocket and handed it to her.  "I just found this yesterday, it was in the big library in a book I found about energy vampires." 

           "Okay. . ." She looked up at him confused but read the paper, holding it up and smoothing out the wrinkles. Her jaw dropped as she read and reread the page. She covered her mouth and dropped the paper horrified. "Oh Laszlo. He's-" She could bear to finish.

    "Yes, he's dying I'm afraid." Tears tipped his eyes. She stood up and held him, unable to bear seeing him like that.

                 "Lazlo if you don't say anything to him you're going to resent yourself for it for the rest of your life and it will just hurt you even more. It will haunt you for eternity. Embrace him while you have the chance please. It's better than not doing anything about it at all." She pleaded. 

          "Okay."He muttered, unable to speak well through his tears.

       "Shhh," She rubbed his back and kissed his forehead.

[cherryflavoredfang]

my fav episodes in order

s1e1 pilot - literally what’s not to love

s1e6 baron’s night out - the entire thing is amazing

s2e10 nouveau théâtre des vampires - the entire episode is just great, i mean, “my name is guillermo de la cruz”. the whole theater. but my favorite thing is still the first few scenes, with them stumbling on the corpses they left around the house and not knowing how to do laundry and just being fucking toddlers

s1e5 animal control - the blood dripping from nadja’s lips there in the beginning. laszlo’s whole plotline is also hilarious. and i’m obsessed with nadja and gregor/jeff’s flirting and how much she fucking groans at him

s2e4 the curse - i’m literally nandor trying to use any android device, technology hates me, i’m computer illiterate. i felt represented. nadja types faster than me tho. but anyway the whole episode is just overall hilarious to me

s3e2 the cloak of duplication - the heart ripping scene and the heart ripping scene only

s3e4 the casino - i love seeing them suffer

s2e9 witches - “nandor has long dark hair and an accent, have you slept with him?” is literally so fucking good, and the witches are so sexy, and the fact that nadja and lilith were ‘really fast friends’ turned to enemies gives me so much food for thought. and nadja just standing there like “look. it’s me. and then it’s a completely different woman.” and laszlo’s like 😐. it’s so fucking funny

s3e1 the prisoner - overall great, highlights include the guide making it clear she thinks they’re too incompetent for the job but well its “above her paygrade”, and laszlo’s “i became a vampire to suck blood and fuck forever” “but you have to admit its quite an honor-“ “i don’t give a fuck”. also guillermo and nadja’s 2 second interaction when she throws raw chicken at him

s1e3 werewolf feud - nadja showing around hers and laszlo’s crypt is just so great. it’s so funny and the place is so beautiful. “i hate this goat” then why tf did u put it there girl. and how she raises both her hands to use telekinesis to open the door like it literally would’ve been easier to use the knob

s1e8 citizenship - i love to see jenna’s transformation, wwdits vampire lore yk. also nadja hypnotizing that boy

s1e7 the trial - it’s great. “she speaks the bullshit.” the council is so good and feeds my hyperfixated needs (gives me more lore to think ab). AND TRUE BLOOD’S VAMPIRE QUEEN!!! also i get to see babyboy viago.

s1e2 city council - i like jenna

s1e10 ancestry - “100% white” is so fucking funny. i love gregor and the grip nadja has on him. i love the crying blood

s2e5 colin’s promotion - i literally just love seeing them suffer. ALSO nadja being mad and murderous is so sexy

s2e3 brain scramblies - HIGHEST point for me is when guillermo googles “virgins in my area” and then hes like “ugh stupid idk why i always do that” like that is EXACTLY what would happen to me every fucking time fr. anyway cool episode

s2e2 ghosts - i like seeing them how they were before being vampires

s3e9 a farewell - i love seeing nadja thriving, and the imminent death reveal was fun. the super slumber thing is a downer, but i think unless i’m already having a rly bad day it’s not enough to depress me

s3e10 the portrait - the separation makes me sad, but it’s okay cause it’s such a funny and cute episode

s3e6 the escape - it’s fun. guillermo bossing everyone around is funny and i like it, but if it were me in the room i’d kill him

s1e9 the orgy - really good episode, really funny jokes, but the second hand embarrassment i get from laszlo’s speech is too strong me to rly enjoy the second half of the episode. nadja’s SO pretty in it though

s2e6 on the run - i think it’s an objectively very good episode but it’s just not self indulgent enough for me so it gets boring. highest points of the episode to me are when nadja is cheering for laszlo during the duel and she says “scare him with your circles”, it always gets a laugh out of me; and also by the end of the episode when laszlo’s bickering with nandor and nadja just fucking licks his fingers like they’re the only ones in the room (cause i’m a whore)

s3e7 the siren - i like nadja doll :) but that’s ab it

s3e5 the chamber of judgement - seeing nandor and nadja bullshitting their jobs so hard is fun, and nadja letting drunk laszlo win a case was cute, but i get so mad at that new vampire boy for being insolent it genuinely drains me

s2e7 the return - the hat jokes are funny and i like carol but its kinda like whatever yk

s1e4 manhattan night club - the hat jokes are so funny. simon’s club is annoying. but to see simon getting fucked by the end is satisfying

s3e8 the wellness center - an objectively amazing episode, but it makes me depressed so i kinda avoid it ngl

s3e3 gail - i find gail kinda annoying, so it’s just a little eh. i did like her sardine comparison, it makes so much sense to me

s2e1 resurrection - i hate topher he just gets on my nervers so the episode gets annoying. i do love the first 3 min of the episode before he shows up

s2e8 collaboration - by my third rewatch i started to either skip this one or not pay much attention to it cause the second hand embarrassment from nadja and laszlo’s performance is too strong for comfort and the benjy(/familiars in general) plot makes me sad

[rushingheadlong]

POP IN THE SUPERMARKET

Conveyer rock - is it all a hype? Colin Irwin looks at pre-packed pop and talks to the men behind new bands Queen (left) and Merlin

Hype. An ugly, unpleasant word frequently recurring in rock circles. 

Up in the boardroom of a vast record company the fat cigar brigade are scratching heads. Binn and Batman have come up with another surefire hit and they want somebody fresh to market it. They ponder a few names and finally decide on one with slight but clear sexual connotations - suggestively camp. 

Name settled, they work on the people who will be in this new band. They might be able to find a ready-made group to fit the bill but better to mould their own. There's a singer who has been around for a few years. 

He's not great but he knows how to throw himself around a stage, has a hairy chest and can hit the high notes. Give him a new name and he'll do. Somebody knows a lead guitarist who can play a bit and looks good. They can advertise for the others. 

They'll work out a sensational stage act, rig them up in some flash gear, buy them the best equipment and arrange a string of appearances in some influential venues. Plunge a few thousand quid in launching them with advertising and posters and "They'll be the biggest thing since sliced bread," chief fat cigar tells his underlings. 

Session musicians are employed to record the single and being a Binn and Batman special the radio stations label it "chart bound" and play it twenty five times a day. Seeing the glossy photos in the bop mags the kids gather up their pennies and buy it. 

VOILA, stars are born - or manufactured. An extreme form of hype. 

There's also a cliché commonly used in the business about people who have been around for many years and finally make it. It's called talent-will-out. An idealist phrase but there is still a popular belief that if a band is truly talented enough it will win through in the end. 

Yet even the greatest band in the world need a bit of pushing in the first place. When a record becomes a hit it's not always that easy to distinguish between hype and talent-will-out.

If a record company spends astronomical sums of money promoting a band, is it hype? Or is it a legitimate and necessary weapon in the music business? The argument is that the BBC's ever-tightening playlist and the effects on the industry of the three-day week have made it harder than ever for a new group to make it - talent or no. Without a big money machine behind it there isn't a hope. 

The situation is illustrated by two energetic new bands, who both look like breaking. 

Big money has been spent on Queen and Merlin, who have had new singles released during the last month. 

Queen's record, "Seven Seas Of Rhye," is already moving swiftly up the chart, while Merlin's "Let Me Put My Spell On You," is doing well enough to suggest it might follow suit. 

There is no suggestion that either band is a manufactured or manipulated product in the sense of the Monkees. They play the music on their own records entirely themselves and they are both hard at work on the road. 

Yet the question arises as to whether they would be doing quite so well without the resources of big companies behind them. 

In the case of Queen it's Trident Audio Productions and EMI and for Merlin it's Cookaway Productions and CBS.

The one common factor is that money and backing has been provided because the companies have a solid, unshakeable belief in the artists they are promoting. They are indignant about any suggestion of a put-on or that there has been any attempt to con the public. 

Listen to Merlin's producer Roger Greenaway for half-an-hour and there is no doubting his faith in their ability. "They are going to break, I know they are. I'm convinced the record will be a hit."

Nobody's saying exactly how much it has cost to launch either band. "Over a period of months between £5,000 and £10,000" has been spent on marketing Queen by EMI while the figure for Merlin is even vaguer. "A bit, but not a vast amount. Not a fortune by any means."

"Seven Seas Of Rhye" is Queen's second single and was recorded as part of the album "Queen 2" which has just been released. Things started to move for them about a year ago when they recorded their first album for Trident, who have a distribution contract with EMI. 

An advance was paid to them to help with the immediate costs of putting them on the road. 

Review copies of the album - about 400 of them - were sent out to everyone who might conceivably have any influence on the record buying public, from discos to the national press. Copies were personally distributed to radio and TV producers and extensive advertising space was bought in the trade papers. 

The launch for Queen was more concentrated than most artist are entitled to expect. 

Trident were completely behind them from the start and found them their American producer Jack Nelson. EMI promotions men Ronnie Fowler and John Bagnall decided they had a product with an exceptional chance of success and they went all out to exploit it to the full. 

Says Fowler: "Every record we release we work to a pattern of promotion. When I went round with the album it was normal procedure. It becomes un-normal when people start phoning you - that's when you put more effort into it."

Bagnall adds: "It became obvious after a week or so that it wasn't standard promotion that was necessary. We did a more complete promotion job than usual on Queen because we thought they were going to make it.

"They're all good-looking guys and I did a round of teeny papers and all the girls in the office swooned over them. Brian, the lead guitarist, had made his own guitar and a couple of the nationals picked up on that. It was good, gossipy stuff."

Queen's publicity machine was working from all angles because they were also getting external promotion from Tony Brainsby's promotion office. 

He had been involved with them from the time they had been trying to get record producers interested. The intensity of it all paid off when they were invited to do a spot on the Old Grey Whistle Test. Radio Luxembourg latched upon the single "Keep Yourself Alive" and played it regularly. 

Their first tour, supporting Mott the Hoople, got the full works. Local press was saturated with releases about this new band which was shortly coming to their town, elaborate displays were arranged at the front of the house on the night of the concert, local disc-jockeys were informed, and window displays were made in about 200 local record shops. 

"Trident and EMI committed themselves right from the start to this band, to make sure they had a PA which was better than other bands had and to make sure they had the right clothes. Some of their outfits cost £150 each," said Bagnall. "Spending money on a band isn't hype. It wasn't being flash or extravagant for the sake of building an image. It was making sure that everything else was as good as their music."

Not so far removed from the attitude towards Merlin, although it has been on a smaller scale in this case. 

The first Merlin tour, still underway, is rigorous. They are playing ballrooms and colleges all over the country on a lengthy round. 

An ambitious project for a new, unknown band, but it has already been successful in that it has launched them as a name people now know. A full-page advertisement was bought in the MM. That's the sort of treatment you might get if you're Bowie, or Ferry, or even Mick Ronson. But Merlin?

They have only been in existence in their present form since last May. 

They emerged as a result of discussions between Alan Love and Derek Chick about the possibility of forming a band with definite commercial appeal and a glamorous stage act. The idea reached fruition via a band called Madrigal, who had for some time been working the same circuit as Mud before "Crazy" broke for them. 

Madrigal disbanded but reformed with the same drummer and bass player, and Love as singer and Chick as manager. A couple more young musicians were found to join them and Chick started the usual hustling to get them going. 

In due course they came to the attention of Cookaway, and Roger Greenaway was hastily summoned to take a look at them. He had already seen Madrigal and when he saw the new model he immediately saw a big future for them. 

Greenaway says: "I'd been looking for a group of this type for three years - a young under-20s group who can present a good act. There's a lot more showmanship attached to bands now. I wanted an act with a slightly different approach. I was in New York producing the Drifters and I came back especially to hear them."

He quickly took them into a studio to see how they reacted there and among the tracks they recorded was "Let Me Put My Spell On You" which had been written by Greenaway in collaboration with Tony Macaulay. Like Queen, the best equipment and some fancy costumes were bought for them and the launching process was put into operation. 

My own experience of the Merlin project was a couple of weeks ago at Reading Top Rank - a bizarre mixture of precocious boppers, ageing teds, and stern-looking heavies. 

Posters and pictures of the group were plastered all over the place and by the time they eventually appeared late in the evening you had been informed quite thoroughly that Merlin had made a record called "Let Me Put My Spell On You."

Greenaway says of Love: "He's got star quality and he's a great charmer. The guitar player Jamie Moses has got a terrific potential too. I've worked with Jimmy Page and John Paul Jones but for me this guy at 18 is a better player than Jimmy Page was at the same age. He's the sort of player guys can follow - like Jet Harris - he had an incredible following with the guys."

He likens the Merlin launch to a military operation. The career of the group has been minutely planned since October. Accepting that it is almost impossible to get airplay for a new band on the BBC they decided the best way to break them was through a solid mass of live dates. 

The dates were booked, once again the best equipment, including a light show, was bought for them, and distinctive stage costumes especially designed. 

"By the time the tour has ended they will be a really tight band. We are getting support in the regions and you can break a record if you can get regional radio stations and disco plays. I believe this record is a hit and the signs are there. This is a ten-year job as far as I'm concerned."

Not that big money backing is any guarantee of success. 

One of the biggest projects of this type was the launching of young Darren Burn as Britain's answer to Donny Osmond. To their eternal credit the record-buying public didn't apparently want an answer to Mr Osmond and the campaign failed. 

The pop supermarket is not a new trend. The attractively packaged mass-produced record has been a part of the industry for a long time. The early releases of Love Affair, White Plains and Edison Lighthouse for example spring to mind. 

The whole thing is justified for the makers by the fact that they still become hits, thus proving there is a demand for made-to-order records. If the public is willing - or gullible enough - to pay 50p for music created in the boardroom. Well it must be OK.

The Merlin single is blatantly, unashamedly aimed at being a big hit - that seems to have been the one criterion in making it. It has all the ingredients and as the whole thing has been done with concentrated professionalism it will probably be a hit. 

Back to Roger Greenaway: "I don't want to present this as a Monkees type of image. It's not a manufactured group in any way - these guys have all been in other bands. 

"What Merlin are about is success - reaching people. It's so wrong for opposing people to criticise. If Chinn and Chapman go out to reach a particular market at the thing they do best, and they reach them, then they're doing their job. They've filled a gap.

"When this record happens it'll be called hype but we haven't hyped anybody. Not a vast amount of money has been spent on them. It would be silly to have a tour like this without some sort of advertising. All the money that has been spent on them so far has been towards getting them on the road. 

"It's expensive but it's minimal if you think of it as a along term thing."

It may be unfair to associate Queen with the pop supermarket. The group themselves were apprehensive about appearing on Top Of The Pops and the prospect of a hit record. 

They have always regarded themselves as an album band and were concerned about being connected with the chart groups. The fact remains that they have been on the receiving end of a giant campaign to create a best-selling single and album. 

The first album had sold far better than they had anticipated and there was great excitement around Trident and EMI as the second one was being made. Manager Jack Nelson came in virtually every day to play new tracks as they were completed and many discussions followed on which one should be released as a single. 

A special meeting was held between Bagnall, Fowler, marketing manager Paul Watts and a few others to discuss the approach to the release of "Queen 2."

"We talked about the possibility of boxing the album, and other various publicity and posters needed to produce an album we were convinced was going to be one of the biggest of the year. We set a high target for it. 'Seven Seas' isn't a housewives' record so with the daily shows like Edmonds, Blackburn and Hamilton, there's no chance of getting it played, we knew that from the start. But the weekend shows - Rosko, Henry, and D.L.T. - they all flipped over it. I took the records round personally because I felt so strongly about it."

The prime plug, however, is Top Of The Pops. If a record gets exposure on that there is a more than even chance that it will become a hit. He played it to the show's Robin Nash and a couple of days later Nash phoned him and asked him where Queen were. Later he rang back and invited Queen to do a session. 

The band weren't too sure whether they wanted to do it but eventually agreed although even then they didn't know until the last minute whether it would be used because they were half expecting a David Bowie film to arrive and take it's place. But in the end Queen were shown and "Seven Seas Of Rhye" moved dramatically from there. 

"A lot of people have invested an awful lot of time and money in this band but not as a hype," says Bagnall. "The only truth in the music business is that if a band isn't good, no amount of money will get them to make it."

Greenaway may be right that Merlin are one of the most exciting bands to merge since the Beatles. Fowler might be right that Queen are one of the best since the Who. But big business still remains one of the sadder aspects of the music industry today. 

----------

Huge thanks to the anon who brought this to my attention, since I’ve been looking for a copy of this article for ages now! 

Credit for the original scans goes to @Chrised90751298 over on twitter, though I stitched it back together into a single image for ease of posting over there. Open the image in a new tab to see the full-size version!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

One Night🌙2

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (to be warned later in series); consensual sex (one night stand, dirty bathroom sex)

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: One night changes your entire life.

for @kittykatlow​‘s 200 Follower Celebration

Note: Here’s another taste of Andy as I wrestle with Omerta.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You didn’t expect to spend your morning in the maternity ward. A last minute appointment just before your closing shift at the cafe. You had your uniform in your bag and a granola bar burning a hole in your stomach.

You also didn’t expect to feel this… overwhelmed. Stepping out of the doctor’s office, you fell into one of the pleather chairs in the waiting room. You just needed to breathe. Needed to keep that bunch of oats from coming up.

You went over everything Dr. Xui had told you. First, the three trimesters and upon prompting, an in-depth discussion of abortive measures. You’d thought you were ready for the latter but that had turn to a torturous uncertainty. 

It would be easier in the long run but it was also terrifying. Yes, it was a mistake but you weren’t sure if you could just erase this one so easily. Not without leaving a mark.

So she sent you away with a card for an agency which could help place the child, if that was what you decided on. You bent the card between your fingers and felt the raised font on its face. You weren’t ready for a child. Old enough, sure, probably more than, but this wasn’t the life to bring another into.

You stood and swallowed the acid in your throat. You smiled at the receptionist as you passed and went to the elevator. You hit the button and thought back to that night. 

He’d bought you a drink, a second, then a third. You danced, not well, and then…

The doors opened and shook you from your reverie. You stepped inside and turned as the metal slid back into place with a ding. You slid the card in the front pocket of your bag and hugged the worn leather against you. 

You’d called the agency before work, or on your break. You only had enough time to get there and get changed. The doors opened again and two passengers left. You sensed movement as more got on and a body sidled closer to yours.

“Hey,” The voice sank deep into your chest like a knife. “Ah, this might be out on a limb, but you remember me?”

You glanced over. It was him. You sucked your bottom lip under your teeth and blinked. You shook your head and steadied yourself as you looked past the woman in front of you to the columns of buttons.

“Shit,” You muttered.

“That sounds like a yes,” He chuckled. “Look, I don’t wanna make this awkward. Just… you visiting someone?”

“Hmm?” You turned to him again, stunned.

“A new niece or nephew?” He wondered. “You, uh, got on at the maternity floor so I…”

“Oh… no,” You said dumbly. “No, I just had…” You looked up as the L flashed above. Great. “An appointment.” The doors opened smoothly. “Look, I gotta run. I got work in an hour and barely that to get across town.”

“Wait,” He followed you out. “Wait, you had an appointment?”

You rushed towards the revolving doors at the front of the hospital. You pushed through and he hit the heavy plastic as he barely squeezed in before he was crushed. You came out the other side and clamoured down the three steps to even ground.

“Hey, hey,” He grabbed your elbow and turned you back. 

You looked around at the people around you. No one seemed to notice your distress or that this man was holding onto you.

“I can’t talk,” You tried to pull away.

“There someone else? A boyfriend? You just planning?” He asked. “Just tell me it’s not--” His brows lifted and his mouth hung open.

You gulped and let out a shaky breath. You looked over your shoulder as the hissing city bus approached.

“Shoot, that’s my ride,” You wriggled free of him and darted into the parking lot. 

A car honked at you as your bag bounced against your hip and you waved at the bus as it came to the stop. You were out of breath when you reached it and the driver gave you an impatient look. The door unfolded behind you as you flashed your pass and made your way past the front seats.

As the bus pulled away, you saw him as he came to a stop beside the domed shelter. His hands went to his hips as he watched you shuttled off and you clung to a bar as you steadied yourself. 

You had the worst fucking timing.

🌙

When you got to work, you offered to take over the midday bake for Colin. He took the till and you kept in the back. Your head was spinning from all that had come to light in the last few days. Pregnancy, appointments, that man. You couldn’t even think his name. He was still a stranger to you.

You were left for the last two hours to close. Traffic slowed then and you didn’t mind the lull. You cleaned out the machines and slowly shut them down as customers trickled out. Fifteen minutes until you could lock up and started mopping.

The door rang as you cleared a table of square plates and coffee-tinged mugs. 

You called over your shoulder. “Just a moment, please.” 

You finished up and turned with your tray of dishes. It bobbled in your grasp and you struggled to keep hold of it as the man stood expectantly facing you. He caught the edge and saved a spoon from falling.

“Here, let me help,” He wrestled you for the tray and you let go, afraid that it would all go flying. “You shouldn’t be carrying so much.”

Andy Barber turned and walked to the counter and set the tray on the end where drinks were placed for waiting customers. You went around the other side to the till.

“Our espresso machine in off for the night but I still have medium roast.” You offered.

He approached slowly and rested a hand on the glass display for the desserts. He leaned on it, his other hand on his hip as he looked at you. Sober and staunch.

“I’m not here for coffee,” He said.

You looked around the empty cafe.

“So I can cash out? We’re about to close.”

“You can’t just not talk to me,” He said. “You have to tell me if that’s my baby.”

You cleared your throat and opened your till with a loud clang. You took out the drawer and closed it. You turned and began to balance your cash.

“How did you even find me?” You asked.

The small door swung as he stepped around the counter and came to stand beside you.

“I have friends at city hall and down at the station,” He said. “I did check the diner first and they told me you had a second job.”

“Well, I’m working,” You filled out the cash sheet and placed it on the drawer. “I gotta go put this in the safe.”

He was quiet as you went to the back and into the small office that hid the safe. You shoved the drawer inside for the opener and closed it. You returned to the front as Andy fingered the metal logo on the latte machine.

“You gonna tell me?” He said. “Is it mine? Is there someone else?”

“Not anyone who could be the father,” You sighed. “Look, I’m not keeping it.”

“What?” He breathed. “You’re--”

“I haven’t decided. I was talking about my options and I think I prefer adoption over the alternative.”

“Adoption? Don’t I get a say in my child’s life?”

“I don’t know you. You don’t know me. This is easier.” You began to wipe down the counter.

“It’s not.” He said. “You don’t know what it’s like to lose a child.”

“Andy,” You said his name and it felt strange on your tongue. “That’s why. I know about your family. About your wife.” You glanced down at the ring on his finger. “It was one night. It’s not the rest of our lives.”

“I don’t want you to get rid of it,” He pulled his hand from the counter and tucked it in his pocket. “And you can’t without my say.”

“Maybe you can adopt it? You, and when your wife wakes up…”

“She’s not going to wake up,” He said softly. 

“Then you can--”

“I don’t need to adopt my child,” He sneered. “I’m a lawyer. I know my rights, do you?”

Your throat constricted and you wrung the rag in your hands.

“I have to activate the security system. You need to leave. We’re closed.” You said.

“You can’t run from me. Or our baby.” He frowned. “I’m trying to help you.”

“I’m on the clock. I have work to do.” 

“So, when can we talk?” His voice was brittle, though whether it was out of anger or desperation, you couldn’t tell.

“I don’t have a lot of time, okay? I work two jobs. I don’t have days off. Do you understand why that might be a problem here.” You gestured to your stomach, hidden beneath your apron. Not very noticeable yet, but it would be soon enough.

“Which is why we need to talk,” He stated. “Tomorrow?”

“I open at the diner and I close here. Again.” You said. 

“The next day?” He asked.

“Fine. I finish work at five. Diner.” You took the dishes from the tray and dumped them into the sink. 

“I’ll drive you home then,” He said.

“Alright.” You accepted as you turned away from the sink. “I’ll show you out.”

🌙

It was the day. You hadn’t stopped thinking of it, dreading it, since that night in the cafe. It felt like the walls were falling down, like your entire being was folding in on itself.

You were almost done work. Estelle let you cash out your tips as she made her rounds with the evening servers. As you looked up, she was pouring coffee for a man at a table for two. You hadn’t seen him come in. You gathered up your tips and untied your apron.

You folded it up in your bag, it needed a wash, and unclipped your name tag as you approached the table.

“How long have you been here?” You asked. Andy stirred cream into his coffee as he glanced up at you.

“Ten minutes,” He waved to the other chair. “Food any good here?”

“Eh, this isn’t really high dining,” You stayed standing. “Coffee’s burnt.”

He took a gulp and nodded. “It is.”

“You said you’d drive me home,” You crossed your arms. “And I’m not very hungry.”

“We can go somewhere else,” He offered as he stood and flipped a few bills onto the table.

“I have food at home.” You insisted. 

“Alright,” He shrugged and gestured you along. 

He followed you and reached past you to open the door. He came up beside you on the sidewalk and directed you along to his car. He opened that door two and you reluctantly climbed in. He closed it and rounded the car to the driver’s side. He settled in and slid his phone into the holder clipped to the vent. 

“Address?” He asked. You told him and he typed it in. 

He sat back and turned the engine.

It was silent as he pulled out. You didn’t know what to say and you expected he had a lot to say. Maybe he didn’t know how.

“I could sign away my parental rights,” You said quietly. “I was reading about it online. If you want the kid…”

“You don’t want it? At all?” He gripped the wheel. “Have you even thought about it? Or did you just refuse to. Do you believe all these excuses you spit out?”

“You don’t understand--”

“What is it? Two jobs? Too expensive?” He scoffed. “You know, legally I’d have to provide support. And you’d get maternity leave.”

“A whole four weeks,” You shook your head. “There’s a lot more than just that, okay?”

“How old are you?” He asked sharply. “You look more than old enough to handle it.”

You recoiled at the accusation. You weren’t quite his age but you were still young enough to wait a little longer.

“Don’t act like you know me or my life, Mister District Attorney,” You spat. 

“Assistant--”

“It doesn’t matter.” You huffed. “I don’t understand what you want from me. I offered to give you the child, to sign over my rights. I have offered my body, to carry your child to term, because of your rights.”

“I’m trying to help you.” He said. “Maybe you should start helping yourself.”

“Help myself? I was doing just that until you came along.” 

He was quiet. His GPS led him onto your street and he pulled up in front of your parents’ driveway.

“Don’t you think about that night? Was it so bad?” He shifted into park.

“I can barely remember that night,” You grasped the door handle. “If it wasn’t for this baby, I’d happily forget it completely.”

He looked at you, his thick brows drew together and he stretched his arm between your seats.

“Really?” He asked. You shrugged and looked out the window to your parents’ house. “I never stopped thinking about it. Or you.”

“You don’t know me. We were drunk. Stupid.” You said.

“I wasn’t that drunk,” He countered.

“Well, I was.” You opened the door an inch and he grabbed your arm.

“I had a family. Fourteen years. And now they’re just gone.” He clung to you and you let the door close. “But this could be a new start. Something I’d never thought I’d get.”

“Andy, I’m sorry. About your family, about not telling you, but this isn’t a family situation. This is fucked up.” You wriggled against his grip. “We fucked beside a toilet. That’s hardly romance. This isn’t fate, this is just stupidity.”

He squeezed and you gasped at his sheer strength. His face darkened and you pressed yourself to the door.

“I won’t have another child taken from me and I won’t have another fractured family.” He snarled. 

“No…”

“You try to give this kid away and I will keep you in court until it’s here. If you can even afford the retainer fee. This isn’t your child, it’s ours.” He pulled you away from the door, his nose almost touched yours as he leaned into you. “I can give you everything or I can take everything from you.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Tell me you didn’t enjoy yourself?”

“It was one night!” You hissed.

“And this,” His other hand touched your stomach. “That’s the rest of our lives.”

“Let me go.” You struggled against him.

“So what? So you can go and flush it out?”

“I just want to go home, Andy,” You trembled. “Please, I already told you I’m having the baby but I just can’t… keep it.”

“You will keep it,” He grabbed your other arm and jolted you. “You understand me.”

“Andy--”

He let go of you and sat back. He hit the locks before you could open the door. He looked past you and you followed his gaze to your father as he lifted the garage door.

“That your dad?” He asked.

You nodded.

“You live with your parents?”

Another nod.

“They know?”

“Not yet.” You answered grimly.

“And if they did?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, should I come in and tell them the good news or--”

“Or what?”

“Or are you going to be a good mother and call the doctor to schedule your next check-up?”

You looked to your lap. You shoved your hand into your bag and pulled out your phone. You unlocked it and hit nine then one and he slapped it out of your hand.

“I told you, I got friends down there, everywhere in this town.” He growled. “And I will make sure everyone knows what you did and what you do from here.”

“I’m just a waitress--”

“At a locally owned diner that can’t afford a bad reputation,” He said. “I know Saul. He had a lawsuit about a year back against a former employee. Small time but he won. You might remember. He’s not the type of guy who likes to lose money. Business over people.”

“You can’t--”

“Look, I don’t want to, I really don’t. What I want is to drive you to your appointments, get everything we need for the baby, and keep you comfortable. That doesn’t sound so terrible to me.” 

He dropped his arm and unlocked the doors. 

“Speaking of, you should go get some rest. Take some time to think. I’ll see you tomorrow when you’ve decided.” He slung his hand over the wheel. 

“Decided?” You uttered.

“How you wanna do this;” He smiled at his reflection in the rear view, “The easy way or the hard way.”

[keanureevesisbae]

Mister Cavill, your dog is kinda fat - Chapter 13

Summary: Veterinarian Olivia Tran has zero time for bullshit. After becoming a mom at age twenty three, the one thing she wants is a good life for her daughter Vanessa. Her ex didn’t want anything to do with her nor the baby and she decided that man are officially banned out of her life. But then she meets Henry Cavill at her clinic and her ban slowly starts to crumble apart. Henry on the other hand is looking for one thing: a family. And when he meets Olivia Tran, he finds just that.

Henry Cavill x Olivia Tran (ofc)

Warnings: Some smutty thoughts of Olivia, but that’s about it.

Wordcount: 5k 

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter 

I think I should thank the universe that my daughter is here, because otherwise I would’ve murdered Wesley right now, after throwing my hot chocolate in his face. After seven plus years of not seeing him and resisting the urge of not going online to check what he is up to nowadays, looking at him in real life sure brings back a whole lot of emotions. He is basically the same, only he lost a bit of weight, especially around his face.

I don’t think he looks necessarily good and maybe it’s his conscious eating him alive inside.

Just as he deserves. Motherfucker.

I see him looking at my daughter and Vanessa has no problem staring back at him. She has a frown between her brows and I know she is thinking about all the questions she can ask the man that left her before she was even born. The man that didn’t want her, before he even got to know her.

I stand up from the table and grab his arm, dragging him away from the table. Dragging him away from my family. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

‘She looks an awful lot like you,’ he notes. ‘What’s her name?’

‘What the fuck is that suppose to mean?’ I ask him. He wants to look over his shoulder again, right at my daughter but my mom reflexes and mom voice are no joke. ‘Wesley, don’t you dare look at her. Look at me.’

He does what I ask him to do. ‘Who is that man?’

It’s beyond me where Wesley has got the nerves to answer my questions with his own questions, but after having Vanessa, I’m able to play along just fine. ‘What are you doing here?’ I ask him. ‘Why do you all of the sudden care about her? You certainly didn’t give a shit when I was pregnant with her.’

‘I’m a changed man, Livi.’

That nickname brings me back to a time where I was so in love with him. A time where I knew I would marry this man, but after spending a few months with Henry, I realized that it was a blessing that he broke up with me. He treated me okay, but never in the way Henry does.

‘It’s Olivia for you,’ I tell him, ‘and you honestly want me to believe that you are a changed man?’ I can’t help but laugh out of pity. ‘Well, you are quite something, Wesley, I have to give you that.’

‘I’m serious,’ he says and he actually looks like he means it. He gestures to his right, my left and when I follow where he is pointing towards, I see a woman sitting, who stares at me with daggers. She places her hand protectively on her pregnant belly and right next to her, I see a young boy sitting, who actually looks pretty cute. ‘That’s Ria,’ he says, ‘and our son Kevin.’

Our son Kevin? I don’t see Wesley for the type of saint that would adopt someone else’s kid (I mean, he is no Henry and no matter what kind of changed man he is, he’ll never reach that level of maturity), so I clear my throat, before I ask: ‘How old is Kevin?’

‘He is six.’

Wesley could’ve stabbed me in my stomach and that wouldn’t have hurt or shocked me, as I am now. ‘He is six?’ I ask him, trying so hard not to raise my voice. ‘You knocked someone up right after you left me?’

Wesley doesn’t say a word.

‘Oh my God,’ I say in utter disbelieve, running my fingers through my hair. ‘You are un-fucking-believable. You left me, let me figure this whole parenting thing out all on my own, while you start a family? Wesley, what the fuck is wrong with you? I can’t believe this. You leave me, my whole family leaves me, because I got pregnant. Have you any idea in what kind of fucking situation you put me through?’

‘I want to get to know her.’

It’s admirable that Wesley has some guts, I have to give him that. ‘No,’ I chuckle. ‘You fucking can’t. You walked out of both of our lives when I gave you the chance to be a dad. You can’t just barge in, because you saw us sitting there. You and your precious new family stay out of our lives and I’ll gladly stay out of yours.’

I want to walk past him, right back to my table, but he grabs my arm. ‘Wait,’ he says and for some weird reason I do wait. ‘Here is my number.’ He hands me a card and I can’t help but stare at this.

‘Since when are you the type of person that has a card?’ I ask, grabbing it out of his hand. ‘Oh look at that. You somehow finished college and you’re a real estate agent now. I’ll be damned.’ I almost want to rip the card apart, but I know that my daughter is looking at me, so I can’t act stupid now.

‘Please, if you change your mind, let me know. I want to make up for the years I wasn’t there for you two.’

I don’t even look at him, I can’t even look at him, so I walk back to my table. ‘We’re leaving,’ I say to Vanessa and Henry. Vanessa wants to look at Wesley, but I block her view. ‘Don’t look at him,’ I tell her and nearly drag her with me outside. Vanessa doesn’t say anything, nor does Henry.

I help her in her carseat and the first five minutes of our drive go by in complete silence. ‘Mommy,’ Vanessa finally says and I admire her for having the balls to open her mouth. ‘Was that my real dad?’

‘He is your biological dad, yes.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘When two people make a baby, you have a bit of both in you. So, Henry and all his brothers have a bit of both Marianne and Colin in them.’

Vanessa mhms. ‘Why were you mad at him?’

‘Because he wants to be part of your life.’

‘Oh.’

It’s quiet for a few seconds, before I finally snap again. ‘That idiot honestly thought that he could just barge right back into my life, after everything he didn’t do for me?’ I ask myself out loud. ‘That bastard had the guts, the guts, to hand me over his card, so I could call him if we change our minds about it. Did you know he has a new lady, who is pregnant and already gave birth to a kid of him? That kid is six. Six! While I’m struggling with my job, with my new baby all by myself, he is out there, impregnating this other woman…’

‘Mommy, what is impregnating?’

‘… having kids with her and being a loyal loving family man. What the hell is wrong with him? Now I finally,  finally have the life that I wanted for both myself and Vanessa and he has the nerves to just walk into my life again? Thinking he can do that? Why are men such big fat pigs? Who has the audacity to look around in a restaurant, see his ex girlfriend with her daughter and obviously her new boyfriend and just walk up to them to ask: ‘Is this her?’. Like he knows Vanessa. Like he was there for her when she was just born!’

I let out a frustrated breath, as I cross my arms and stare out of the window. Henry gently places his hand on my thigh and lean my head back against the head rest of the seat.

‘Mommy, his new kid,’ Vanessa says, ‘does he have a part of that man in him?’

‘Yes, he does, so technically he is your half brother and the child inside the belly of the other woman is your half sister or another half brother.’ I look at Henry and say softly: ‘If that woman didn’t stray of course.’

Henry doesn’t say anything and the rest of the car ride continues in silence. This is crazy, I think to myself. That Wesley left my subconscious a long time ago and now he is all my entire family can think about.

When we’re back inside our house, I keep pacing around the living room, while Henry and Vanessa plop on the couch, carefully watching my moves.

‘Mom, can I meet him?’

I nearly collapse. ‘Excuse me, what?’ I ask, in a lot harsher tone than I usually talk to her, even when I’m angry with her. ‘Why on earth would you want to meet him?’

‘Olivia,’ Henry says, shaking his head, telling me non verbally that I need to tone it down a notch.

‘Because… I want to get to know him.’

I sigh deeply. ‘Sweetheart, he left you, before you were born. I think that is all you need to know about him. Besides, you have a great dad now.’

She nods. ‘I know, but I want to ask him something.’

‘What do you wanna ask him?’

‘Why he left.’

Oh my God, I’m going to cry and never stop. She wants to ask him that question, that is too pure and too sweet and it makes me want to kill Wesley even more. She looks so vulnerable.

‘Oh,’ I say. Who am I to stop her from doing this? Whether I like it or not, that man, that lousy piece of shit, is still her biological father. If she wants to see him, to get to know him, why should I stop her? Simply because I have personal vendetta against him, hate his guts and wouldn’t cry a single moment if he accidentally got under a bus? ‘On one condition,’ I tell her. ‘I am there every single second.’

Vanessa nods. ‘I want Henry there too.’ She looks up at him and says: ‘But only if you want to, of course.’

My daughter is so considerate and I love her for that. God, I did such a good job with raising her by myself. Where is the standing ovation I deserve?

‘I want to,’ Henry says. ‘For you I’d do anything. Maybe you should hug your mom. She looks like she needs it.’

Vanessa jumps off the couch and walks up to me. ‘I love you, mommy,’ she says.

‘Oh, sweetheart, I love you too. I’m sorry I was so hard on you.’

She shakes her head. ‘I get it, you are really angry. You really don’t like what he did, because you never got this mad at me.’

I chuckle. ‘No, that’s true. I’ll send him a text.’

≫≫≪≪

So tomorrow we are going to meet up with Wesley at a cafe. I chose a public place, because otherwise I’m tempted to kill him if we are somewhere more private. After I called Belle and vented for a good half an hour before I let her speak, she told me I was doing the right and mature thing. She also told me that after we met up, we should hang out, so we can talk about this, because it would probably be better for my blood pressure to immediately talk about the meeting.

And all of the sudden I’m in desperate need for some motherly advice, but counting on my own mother is out of the window. So with Vanessa and Henry we go to the Cavill residence and thankfully Charlie is there, so he and Colin can take Vanessa with them, to play some stupid games, walk around the house, while I can have a heart to heart talk with Marianne, Henry close by.

I haven’t spoken to him really since Vanessa asked me to see her biological father. The only thing he did was giving me tight hugs so I would stop pacing, give me a kiss every now and then and simply whisper that I was doing the right thing.

Sitting at the kitchen table, Henry right next to me and Marianne across from me, is weirdly calming. ‘You are doing the right thing,’ Marianne also says. ‘So, your friend Belle and Henry are right.’

I place my elbows on the hard surface, before I bury my face in my hands. ‘It was my grand idea to have some hot chocolate afterwards,’ I mumble. ‘Hadn’t I done that, we wouldn’t have run into him.’

‘Maybe we were suppose to run into him,’ Henry says, placing his arm around my shoulders. ‘Sweetheart, whether you like it or not, he is Vanessa’s real dad. She deserves to get to know him.’

‘But what if she likes him more?’ I ask and I realize that was my fear all along. ‘I tried so hard for her and what if she meets him and thinks: oh, that man, I like him a lot more than I like my mom and the entire family she gave me.’

‘No, no, no,’ Henry says, ‘you know that is not going to happen. Because of your honesty to her all these previous years, she is well aware of what he did to both you and her. It’s always her biggest fear that I’m leaving after she did something that she shouldn’t do. I think she just wants some answers, so she can think about it.’

‘You raised a smart and intelligent girl, Olivia,’ Marianne says. ‘So I have an idea. Tomorrow the three of you go straight to us, you bring your friend Belle along too and we can have a nice long talk, to process this. It’s scary, my dear, I know that, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. You are a whole lot tougher than you think you are.’

I let out a sigh. ‘Yeah, you are right.’

Marianne asks me if I want some more tea and I think I want to. While she walks off to the kitchen, Henry presses a kiss on my temple. ‘How are you, love?’ he asks.

‘When we’re home, I think I’m going to take a long hot shower. You mind?’

‘Of course not,’ he says. ‘Vanessa and I can start on dinner, how about that?’ Henry has a smile on his face when he sees me nod. ‘I am proud of you.’ He leans in and gives me a long kiss. ‘I’m so happy that I can get to call you my girlfriend.’

‘You’re not scared?’

He nods. ‘I am, very much so, but I also have a lot of faith in your daughter.’

‘Our daughter,’ I correct him.

Henry blushes a bit and I pull him into a hug. I bury my face in his neck and let out a content sigh, for the first time in a few hours. ‘I love you,’ he whispers.

‘I love you too, Henry,’ I say. ‘And I trust our daughter too. Just promise me that if I have to go to the clinic, or to the bathroom, you keep an eye on them. Don’t leave him with her for a single second, okay?’

‘I was going to ask you the same thing too,’ he chuckles. ‘We’ll be alright, darling. I guarantee.’

≫≫≪≪

I’m surprised Wesley is early. He was always late when we dated. Maybe he did change, a little bit. Before we walk into the cafe, I stop Vanessa in her tracks and I say: ‘You can ask him anything you want. If there is something he says that you don’t like, you can tell him that. If you want to leave, you can just ask me or Henry and we’ll leave right away. Remember, you don’t owe him anything.’

Vanessa nods. ‘I know, mommy, you told five times already this morning.’

‘Don’t be a smart ass now,’ I say to her.

Henry places his heavy hands on her shoulders and says: ‘You have to cut your mom some slack, she doesn’t mean it like that. She is just still a bit mad.’

Vanessa chuckles. ‘I know. Mommy, it will all be fine. You are here, daddy is here.’

‘I’m sorry, you’re right.’ I give her a big kiss and say: ‘You are a good kid.’

The three of us walk into the cafe and Wesley stands up from his spot. Vanessa walks over to him and holds out her hand. ‘Hello,’ she says, ‘my name is Vanessa.’

Wesley takes her hand in his, while he keeps standing up. I don’t want to compare (but I’m still gonna), but all the insanely tall Cavills crouch down when they talk to her. ‘Hi Vanessa, I’m Wesley.’

‘I know who you are, my mommy told me all about you.’

You go, girl. I’m so proud of her already and I can’t believe that my daughter is handling this situation a whole lot better than I am.

Wesley nods and looks at Henry. ‘Aren’t you the actor?’ he asks. ‘Henry Cavill?’

‘I certainly am,’ Henry says, shaking my ex boyfriends hand.

We all sit down, order something to drink. While I am in the desperate mood for some vodka, I decide to go with a cappuccino, just to be safe. I ordered Henry not to break the silence, because Wesley wanted to meet Vanessa so badly, so he should keep up the conversation.

Vanessa takes a sip of her apple juice and looks at Wesley. ‘Can I ask you a question?’

I think Wesley is grateful that she decided to break the silence, because he nods. ‘Of course.’

‘Why did you leave my mommy?’

‘Because I was scared,’ he says. ‘I thought I wasn’t ready to be a dad yet.’

There is so much I want to say to him. You think I was ready to become a mother? You think I wasn’t scared?

Vanessa sighs and I see her bottom lip tremble. God, this is too much for me to handle and I want to jump up, hoist her up in my arms and while I walk out of this cafe, punch Wesley right in the nose. ‘Why didn’t you want to love me?’

I look at Henry, who places a comforting hand on my leg. It might be uncomfortable now, but I know that this will be good for Vanessa and for me for that matter.

Wesley doesn’t know what to say.

‘Am I that unloveable?’ she continues to ask.

Now I can’t keep my mouth shut, because now she is doubting herself and as a mother I can’t let that happen. ‘No,’ I say to her. ‘You are not unloveable, don’t you ever think like that again.’

Vanessa frowns. ‘But he didn’t love me.’

‘He didn’t even want to love you. He didn’t even try,’ I say, not caring he is there and can totally hear this. ‘Remember sweetheart, he walked out on you and me, not the other way around.’

‘I was scared,’ Wesley tells me.

‘Don’t you think I was?’ I ask him, absolutely dumbfounded. I turn to Vanessa again and ask her: ‘Remember what I always tell you? About fear?’

She nods. ‘That you are allowed to be scared, but that it should never stop you in life.’

‘That’s right. But sweetheart, you were talking to Wesley, I’m sorry I interrupted.’

Vanessa shakes her head. ‘That’s okay, mommy. You can always interrupt me.’

Suck that up, Wesley, I think to myself. My daughter is fucking polite and I did that all by myself.

‘You know,’ Vanessa continues, ‘I always wondered why I didn’t have a dad. Kids in my class have one and I wanted one too.’

‘I understand,’ Wesley says, though he grows more uncomfortable with the second. I bet he underestimated my daughter and her communication skills and now he should deal with the consequences of that easy thinking of his.

‘And then my mommy met Henry,’ she says with a beaming smile. ‘He is a real daddy, you know. He bought me my first bike, my first Christmas tree and he took my out on a Valentines date two days ago.’

Yes, honey, please rub it in.

Wesley takes a sip of his coffee and he actually is trying to leave, I can totally see it in his body language. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ Henry asks, picking up on those signs as well. ‘You sit down now. Vanessa is talking to you and you better listen to it.’

This isn’t the moment to think about hot and passionate sex with Henry, but tomorrow I’m off work a little bit earlier than usual and you bet your ass I’m going to spoil him in a whole lot of nasty ways before we have to pick Vanessa up.

‘Please, Vanessa, continue,’ Henry says to her with a loving smile.

Vanessa nods. ‘He is going to adopt me soon,’ she continues, eyes shining bright with excitement. ‘And then we are officially a family.’

‘Right.’

‘My mommy cried a lot because of you. She didn’t know I saw her, but usually at night she would cry on the couch. I heard her talking to my auntie Belle about you and that I don’t have a daddy. That’s your fault.’

Henry and I exchange glances and he seems to be impressed by our daughter.

‘Vanessa,’ Wesley says, ‘I don’t want to have this conversation with you.’

She seems a bit shocked. ‘Why not?’ she asks.

‘Yeah, Wesley, why not?’ I ask him, crossing my arms in front of my chest. ‘Tell her why not.’

‘This is a grown up conversation.’

‘No, it’s not,’ I retort. ‘It’s about her, so she should have a conversation with you and if you are intimidated by a seven year old, then you are really even less of a man than I figured you were.’

Henry clears his throat. ‘You keep your ass on that chair and if you don’t do that, I have no problems at all forcing you onto that seat. You listen to Vanessa and you have a conversation with her. Right here and right now.’

Wesley is getting more and more frustrated right now, but I’m not cutting him slack. No, he wanted this. He ruined my perfect day by forcing himself basically into our lives.

‘So, you have a son and almost a new baby, right?’ Vanessa asks.

‘Mhm.’

‘Do you love them?’

‘I do,’ Wesley says.

She thinks about her next move long and hard. ‘Cool.’ Vanessa simply stares at him and even tilts her head. ‘I don’t like you.’

My mouth falls open and I can’t help but feel so proud of her.

‘Excuse me, what?’ Wesley asks.

‘I don’t like you,’ she repeats, rolling her eyes and I can almost hear her thinking: Are you deaf? ‘You made me sad, because you walked out before I was born. You made my mommy sad and very angry yesterday and I don’t like it when that happens. I am happy that I saw you, because now I know that you… Mommy, can I say this?’

‘Go for it.’

‘Now I know that you really are an idiot.’ She looks at Henry. ‘Right, daddy?’

Henry nods. ‘You’re totally right, sunshine.’

‘You allow this?’ Wesley asks me. ‘You allow this kind of talk?’

‘I didn’t know you had the right to give an opinion about my parenting skills,’ I say to him.

‘I wanted a second chance, but with what you are telling her about me…’

‘Is the truth, buddy,’ Henry says. ‘What did you think would happen? That they waited seven years for you to come back? Of course not. You left them and Olivia made the brave choice of raising her daughter with the upmost honesty and respect, something that you obviously lack.’

‘And you think you can just barge into their lives and be the savior?’ Wesley retorts.

‘Excuse me?’ Henry asks. ‘I’ve been acting more like a dad to Vanessa in one day than you have been your entire life. I think you should be grateful that I swooped in and give her the dad she deserves to have.’

‘Wesley,’ Vanessa says and he looks at her. ‘I hope you love your new kids, because they deserve a dad.’

That’s more maturity than I could ever have. Did I raise this girl?

‘I have to go,’ Wesley says.

‘No, you’re not. I didn’t hear Vanessa was finished,’ Henry says, clearly getting more and more frustrated with Wesley. ‘Sunshine, you finished?’

‘Almost.’

‘Listen to the young lady,’ Henry says, his eyes not leaving Wesley once.

Vanessa clears her throat and says: ‘I don’t want to see you ever again.’

‘Well, make two of that, sweetheart,’ I say.

‘Three,’ Henry mumbles.

‘Now you can go. I finished my apple juice.’

Wesley looks at me, jaw clenched and ready to murder me. Honestly, I don’t even blame him. If I were a coward and in his shoes, I’d kill me too.

‘You know, sweetheart, we’ll go instead,’ I say to her. I get up from the chair and say to Wesley: ‘I bet you wished you didn’t walk up to us now, didn’t you?’

I grab Vanessa’s hand and with Henry we walk outside of the cafe. The second we are outside, I lift her up in my arms. ‘I am so proud of you, baby.’ I press tons of kisses on her faces, causing her to squeal. ‘You are the biggest bad ass I’ve ever met in my entire life!’

Vanessa hugs me tightly. ‘I’m happy he left you, mommy.’

‘That was the biggest blessing ever.’

Henry gives Vanessa a kiss on her cheek and says: ‘I’m so proud of you, sunshine. He is indeed a big idiot.’

The door of the cafe opens. ‘What the fuck was that?’ Wesley fumes.

‘Language,’ I tell him sternly, like it’s going to work. The word ‘fuck’ slipped my lips multiple times and thankfully Vanessa understands she can never repeat that word.

For now, at least. When she is a teenager, I sure hope she starts to use it then.

‘You totally set this kid up,’ he continues. ‘Talking bad about me behind my back.’

‘Well, I would’ve talked bad about you right in your face, but you walked out of my life, remember?’

I feel like Wesley is about to attack me, but Henry steps in between us. ‘I would suggest you leave. Vanessa told you she doesn’t want to see you anymore and I think you should respect that. We have your number and will call you if she changes her mind.’

‘And you,’ he spits, ‘you honestly think you can waltz into their lives?’

‘I do, actually and I did waltz into their lives. Turned out to be amazing. Honestly, Wesley, you don’t know what you’re missing. Vanessa is such a bright and intelligent and well spoken girl and Olivia is fascinating on her own and an amazing mother.’

Wesley doesn’t have any control over himself anymore, because he launches forward, planning on hitting Henry, who doesn’t seem impressed one single second. Henry grabs my lousy ex boyfriend by his collar and pushes him against the wall. ‘What was that?’ he asks unbothered.

God, he is sexy and this is totally doing things to my panties right now.

‘Let go of me.’

‘Only if you promise us you stay out of our lives and we never see you again, unless we had some sort of aneurism and weirdly enough want to see you.’

‘Fuck you.’

‘Language,’ Vanessa and I yell at the same time.

Henry chuckles. ‘It’s very simple. Just say you promise and I’ll let you go.’

Wesley clenches his jaw. ‘I promise.’

‘Easy, wasn’t it?’ I could’ve known that Henry wasn’t going to just let him go. He throws Wesley to the ground and says: ‘You big piece of shit.’

‘Mister Cavill,’ I say with a smile when he walks up to us again. ‘That was quite something.’

He gives me a long kiss and despite the desperation I can feel, he is holding himself in not to slip his tongue inside my mouth. ‘I love you, darling,’ he mumbles against my mouth. ‘And I sure hope that we never see this idiot ever again.’

‘I think you took care of that.’ I look at Wesley, who pushes himself up and walks away, without looking over his shoulder once.

‘You are truly Superman, daddy,’ Vanessa says with a smile. ‘We are really tough, aren’t we?’

‘We are, sunshine.’ He presses a kiss on her cheek. ‘We promised grandma Marianne we would go to her after meeting Wesley. How about we bring something sweet to her place?’

‘Like what?’ Vanessa asks.

‘I was thinking some cake, you agree?’

‘Yes, I agree!’

≫≫≪≪

The Cavill and Tran family groupchat

Piers: I already told you guys, but I am proud that you told that idiot off and please tell me what Vanessa wants. I want to buy her a present for being such a total bad ass.

Charlie: I swear, if I ever run into him, I’m going to throw him accidentally in front of the bus. What a fucking idiot.

Mom: Charlie!

Charlie: What? You said the exact same thing!

Mom: But with you, I never know if you mean it. I don’t want any of my kids in jail, even if I agree with your actions.

Dad: I’ll do it then. I’m old anyways. I have nothing to lose.

Mom: Colin!

Niki: Yeah, you go dad. You go throw that fucking moron in front of the bus.

Henry: I support you, dad.

Olivia: Not to be that kind of person, but I’d rather you spend time with Vanessa than in jail. Please leave the idiot alone.

Mom: Finally some common sense in this group chat. I’m glad we added you, Olivia, because it can be hard being a woman alone with these guys.

Dad: So I can’t throw him in front of the bus?

Olivia: No, I’m sorry. I can tell you this though: resisting the urge to kill him, will get easier over time.

Henry: I hope you are right, love.

Simon: Not to be that guy, but Olivia, can you give me Belle’s number?

[moss-lyman]

I absolutely adore your writing. Because I'm a masochist, can I ask for “I’m leaving.” “Of course you are, that’s all you know how to do"...but maybe with a less-angsty finish 🥺

I am a big masochist, so this was right up my alley ;)

set post-series.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m tired, Josh, and this conversation is going nowhere, so I’m leaving.”

“Of course you are,” he says, fire in his eyes. “That’s all you know how to do.”

She rounds on him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve left me twice already, Donna. Both without so much as a goodbye. I guess I should be grateful you’re giving me a heads up this time.”

“That’s not fair. This is different and you know it.”

“I think it is fair,” he argues. “Because I’m right here.” He spreads his arms wide. “I’m not running, I’m not avoiding you, and I have never left you.” She rolls her eyes and it spurs him on further. “I was there, committing fucking perjury for you and saving not only your job, but keeping you out of jail. I was there after that bullshit with Jack or- or when you found out your granddad died.” He brings his hand up to tick off his fingers. “I was there at 4 in the morning when those creepy neighbor guys wouldn’t leave you alone. I was there in Germany without a second thought, Donna. I was there! You keep leaving. Not me.”

She stands frozen by his front door, both of their breathing coming out a little heavier as they stare at each other. She watches as he unclenches his fist and roughly runs his fingers through his hair, spinning around so he isn’t facing her anymore.

“If you leave,” he murmurs, still not looking at her. “That’s it. I can’t keep going in circles, Donna. Either you want this or you don’t.”

Her mouth quirks at that. They really have switched places with him giving her an ultimatum. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and slowly walks over to him. He doesn’t react when she grabs his hand, so she walks around so they’re face to face.

“I don’t want to leave,” she says quietly. “But I need for you to hear me.”

“Donna, I hear you loud and clear, alright?”

“No, you don’t. You’re listening, but you’re not hearing me.” She challenges him with her body language, but he doesn’t move, just holds her hand tighter. “You’re right. At least on part of it,” she starts. “And I’ll give you the first time, but if you think it was easy for me to leave you last year, you’re wrong. That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, Josh, and that includes Gaza.”

Josh grips her hand tighter and steps back to sit them down on the couch, not letting her go.

“You weren’t hearing me back then either and I felt like my only option was to leave and it killed me. You have no idea how many times I picked up the phone to call you and beg for my job back, but I couldn’t.”

“Why not?” he asks softly.

“My whole life revolved around you. Everything I did, everything, was tied to you in some way. I thought I was getting away with it, but when CJ called me out—“

“Hold on,” he interrupts. “What do you mean CJ called you out?”

“Before Gaza,” she murmurs, rubbing his knuckles with her thumb. “During the lockdown, she basically said you were underutilizing me and I let you because... it’s you. I was staying in an unsatisfactory job because it meant I still got to be with you and hearing someone else say it was one of the most humiliating moments of my life and then Gaza happened and you came to me.” She smiles softly at him and rubs his forearm as his brow creases in concern. “And I thought we had a moment, but I got back and it was like nothing had changed, we were still doing the same song and dance we’d been doing, and it pissed me off.”

“We did have a moment,” he assures.

“I know we did, but I felt like I butchered it with Colin - who, by the way, was just a reaction to what CJ said - and when I got back to work, it was just made more and more clear that I wasn’t going to get what I wanted from you. With my job or otherwise.”

“I should’ve made the time,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry.”

“I was mad at you for a long time, but I still missed you like crazy. It was very confusing.”

He grins. “I know what that’s like.”

“And I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I’m glad I left. It made me stand on my own two legs and do something on my own, with no ulterior motives behind it. It was mine even if my candidate lost to yours, I at least knew I was capable and didn’t need you professionally to be successful.”

Josh sits quietly for a moment, looking at their interlocked hands as she continues to run her thumb over his knuckles. He takes a deep breath. “Where does that leave us now?”

She smiles. “Well, that depends.”

“On what?”

She searches his gaze and squeezes his hand. “On how sure you are.”

“About what?”

“About this,” she clarifies. “Me. Us.”

“I already told you—“

“I know you’re not leaving. I mean about the living situation. It’s a big - massive - step and I don’t want to just dive right in if we’re not ready because I’ve waited so long for this, Josh,” she says, pleading with him. “I don’t want anything to mess it up. This is too important. So, if me keeping my apartment - just for now,” she amends when he opens his mouth to protest, “will help, then I’ll do it. Transition is insane even if it’s two Democrat administrations, so I would completely understand if—“

“I want you here,” he says firmly, looking right at her. “I want you right here. Not across town. Here. With me.”

“You’re sure?”

He groans and tilts his head back dramatically before looking back at her. “I need for you to hear me now, alright?” he says and he grabs her face with both of his hands. “You are my girlfriend and I am your boyfriend, and as your boyfriend, I am asking you to please, for the love of God, move in with me.”

Her smile grows. “Well, since you asked nicely.” She laughs when he tackles her back onto the couch and she brings his face to hers, kissing him chastely. “I’ll move in,” she murmurs.

“Permanently,” he mumbles, his lips dragging down her throat. “Tell your landlord your stuff will be out by next week.”

“Permanently.” She wraps her leg over his to widen her hips, letting him lay more comfortably over her. “No more leaving. I promise.”

Josh pulls back and brings a hand up, his pinky out. “Pinky swear?”

Donna wraps her own pinky with his. “Pinky swear.”

He grins, satisfied, and moves her hand to wrap around his neck. “Since we’re officially live-in lovers, we have to consummate it,” he says, his dimples deepening when she pinches the back of his neck. “In every room. It’s the rules.”

She smirks and runs her fingers into his hair. “Oh, is it?”

He nods again. “Yep.”

Donna wraps her other leg around his waist. “Well, since it’s the rules...”

And she draws him down again.

[unfortunate-arrow]

Colin and hyacinth + mischief, I loved when Penelope talked about them being so similar in RMB :)

There may have been approximately twelve years between Colin and Hyacinth Bridgerton, but that hadn’t stopped the sixteen-year-old from enlisting his five-year-old sister into his plot. He was crouched at a corner, behind the wall. Hyacinth was pressed against him, her small frame fitting perfectly in his grasp.

“Know what to do, Hy?” Colin whispered, his mouth next to his little sister’s ear.

“Huh-uh,” Hyacinth said, nodding vigorously.

“What are you going to do?”

“Make sure Anthony and Benny don’t come!”

“Right.”

Colin stuck his head out into the adjacent hallway and made sure that the coast was clear. With a smirk, the two siblings crept quietly through the hall towards their older brothers’ bedchambers. Anthony’s was closest and Colin gently twisted the door open. It was still light out so the two siblings didn’t need to light anything.

“Do you have the pebbles?” Colin asked, crouching down to Hyacinth’s level.

She pulled a small velvet bag out of her dress and deposited into Colin’s hand.

“Colly, can I do it too?” Hyacinth asked, looking at him with big blue eyes.

“Of course, just make sure that Anthony isn’t coming,” he replied.

He watched his little sister creep to the door and peek out. He pulled the bed sheets back from Anthony’s bed, and opened the bag of pebbles, a smirk forming across his lips. There was a reason that he was letting Hyacinth do the honors of infesting their brother’s bed with pebbles.

“Here you are, your highness,” Colin said, lifting Hyacinth into his arms after handing her the bag.

He grinned as she unceremoniously dumped the bag onto Anthony’s bed. He helped her spread the pebbles out and then remade the bed. Hopefully none of the servants would mess with it.

“Benny’s turn!” Hyacinth exclaimed, wriggling out of Colin’s grip. He blinked, startled. Huh, maybe his baby sister was part cat.

“Yep. Now we gotta be quiet, remember? We don’t want Mother or anyone else catching us,” Colin said.

“Okay!”

The two siblings crept out of Anthony’s bedchamber and down the hall to Benedict’s. Gently opening the door to their brother’s room, Colin and Hyacinth slipped in. The room was slightly darker than Anthony’s and was a tad messier.

“So what are we doing to Benedict? The bed? Boots?” Colin asked, crouching again to Hyacinth’s level.

“Boots! We did bed for Anthony!” Hyacinth exclaimed.

“Alright.”

Colin grinned, opening the door of Benedict’s wardrobe. He pulled out a second bag of pebbles and handed them to Hyacinth. She took the bag and dumped them into three different boots.

“Good job, Hy. Let’s go. We need to be far away from here when Anthony and Benedict get back from their ride,” he said.

[invisibleinorange]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Bridgerton Rating: T Warnings: Presumed Character Death Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington,  Eloise Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington(besties),  Bridgerton Family Dynamics, Simon Hastings/Daphne Bridgerton Characters: Colin Bridgerton,  Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton, Anthony Featherington,  Benedict Bridgerton,  Daphne Featherington, Simon Hastings, Portia Featherington Additional Tags:  Bridgerton, Polin Summary:  Unexpected bad news arrives for the Bridgerton Family (and friends) regarding Colin's travels. This will be a series that is set after "The Duke and I" or season one of the show. It is a companion piece to "Goodbyes". (#I’mHereToKillYouAllWithFeels)

While Anthony was absorbed in ensuring the women in their family were saw after, he’d asked Benedict to see to it that Penelope Featherington was returned safely home.

Penelope could scarcely speak much less utter how absolutely wrecked she was about the loss of their brother when she was left at her door step.  If they had allowed her, she probably wouldn’t have left. She was far better off useless there than alone with her own thoughts.

Her mother was waiting like the viper she was. Penelope wasn’t certain she had the strength to fight her off either.

“Since when do you get escorted home by Bridgertons?” her mother asked. There was something implied there like it would have been perfectly acceptable had it been one of her sisters.  “You could at least attempt to look happy about it.”

“Their brother just died,” Penelope found herself snapping.

“Not Anthony!  He would have been perfect for your sister,”  Portia dared to say, which only served to magnify the hurt and anger building up in Penelope. Penelope was used to bottling things up, taking everything on the chin but tonight wasn’t the night.

“No,” she argued, biting her lip enough to where it was close to drawing blood.  She didn’t want to be insolent but this was hardly a time to care about the next social season or making matches in the time between.

“Oh thank Heavens,” Portia said clearly not picking up on the fact that Penelope was actually quite distressed.

“It was Colin,” she said, voice shaking with force at the words.  She was one mere seconds from collapsing in on herself.

“Oh the one you have that silly little crush on. The fool who almost married Miss Thompson,” Portia said as if the first part was public information.  Penelope was in such shock that her mother had even  noticed such a thing that mouth hung open slightly.  She wasn’t prepared for the hurtful words that would come next. “You need not worry, Penelope darling.   He would have never married you anyways. Those books really have rotted your mind.”

It was an absolute slap in the face.  Her veins filled with ice and the slight from her own family. She was painfully aware that she wasn’t as pretty as the other eligible women of the Ton.  It was one thing to know and another to have it spelled out in front of her quite so ineloquently.  The fact that her mother could see her heart breaking and not even try to offer some sympathy was unacceptable.  She was almost grateful for the fact she’d never marry or have children, just so she didn’t have to worry about being as unfeeling as her own mother.

“You need not worry,” she uttered, storming away.

--

There was one thing that Benedict and Anthony agreed upon: the letter could never see the light of day. They couldn’t bring themselves to destroy it though so it was hide it away in a desk with other important paperwork.

The only real question that kept them up in the night was what they were to do about the problem reading it presented.

Colin was young and perhaps not as direct with his wishes as he might have been had he been a few years older but they could read between the lines.  The very wishes Colin expressed toward Penelope would never come to pass unless they saw it fit to carry them out.

They could not agree upon who would be the one to take it upon themselves to ensure she was protected, loved.  Neither fully desired to marry and certainly not a Featherington.  Neither particularly saw the things that their brother did in the girl but there was no denying she had a good heart.  As often as she had been at their home through the years, she might as well have been their sister.

When Daphne and Simon forced their way into the drawing room, the brothers were still arguing amongst themselves over who must do it when the proper mourning period was over.

“What exactly are you not going to allow him to do?” she couldn’t help but ask as she approached, her pregnant belly scarcely hidden by her dress.  She looked well even if it was clear that she hadn’t slept in order to hasten the journey home.  From the look on the Duke’s face, he hadn’t been on board but had been forced.

“Nothing,” the two brothers said almost in unison, greeting their sister with hugs.

“I don’t buy that.”

“You shouldn’t be out of bed,” Anthony said, protective act in full force as he gazed over her before looking at the Duke as if to accuse him of not having a better grip on his own wife.

“Don’t look at me. You know Daphne is of her own mind,” he said with a shrug.

“I only obey when the order makes sense and I’m pregnant not an invalid. I insisted we come as soon as we received word.”

She seemed to have it together far better than anyone else in the family which was almost remarkable, considering she and Colin were close in age and had always been the best of friends.

Perhaps it was all an act though because the Duke had threatened to lock her up should even the slightest hint of distress appear after a lengthy meltdown demanding he order up the carriages ended in his compliance.

“We’re grateful to have you closer to home,” Anthony finally said. “I’m not sure that mother will be able to properly handle planning his rites. I contacted Francesca and she should be home soon as well. ”

There was not body to properly put on display but a coffin would be order and filled to brim with flowers.  It would sit in the drawing room where they might welcome mourners. Someone must be with it day and night though and that was a job fit for a woman.

With their mother crushed and Daphne’s delicate condition, it was likely Eloise and Francesca would be left with most of the watch. She knew there would be no stopping Daphne from taking up the watch some of the time though or helping to ensure Colin had a fitting wake.  Then there was the small matter of tokens for funeral goers.  All would have be completed.

There would be an actual funeral but it wouldn’t be acceptable for any of the women to attend.  That would fall on Anthony, Benedict and Gregory.  They would get through it though somehow.

“I’ll make a list,”  Daphne uttered, throwing herself head first into the work of it.  This was how she was going to survive this moment. She moved toward the desk, going into find unused parchment.  Without sleep Anthony wasn’t thinking properly enough to know that was where they’d hidden the ghastly letter.

It was only once she was in there and Benedict elbowed him hard that he saw fit to remember and he knew it was too late.

“What’s this?” she asked as she spotted the handwriting under the blank paper pulling it up.  Her brown eyes narrowed as she began to read it. She gazed up from the words, feeling she’d violated her deceased brother’s privacy for having even read them. She wanted to ask if the others had seen it but one look told her that she had two brothers who knew full well about this.  

The last time she’d spoken one on one with her brother, he’d been so besotted by Marina Thompson that she wasn’t sure that he would ever get over her betrayal.  Clearly, she had not known her brother as well as she thought that she had.  The words on the paper broke her heart.  Her brother had died not fully knowing just how deserving of love he was.

“What did they do?” the Duke couldn’t help but ask, reaching to grab the paper from his wife and glancing it over.   He could pick up on the distress on his wife’s face and he was fully prepared to give Anthony a black eye over it.  This was already an unacceptable situation but if they’d done anything to add to the situation, he was going to be furious. At the moment, he wasn’t quite connecting the dots though.

“How could you?” their sister berated. It was clear the distress they’d hoped to avoid had arrived.  “I sincerely hope that I am wrong about the fact you have hidden this letter from its intended recipient.”

“It would crush her,” Benedict argued.

“It’s not your place,” Daphne argued right back.

“It is our place. Her well-being is our problem now and we won’t have this on our conscious. What good would it do her?” Anthony argued right on back, knowing full-well Daphne would win this argument. She always did.

“She deserves to know,” she told them, fury clearly written on her face.

The Duke was pretty clear from looking at her that he wouldn’t have to be the one throwing the punches. Daphne would be the one doing it, if he didn’t stop her.  He moved a little closer just in case he had needed to hold her back.

“Tell who, what?” a voice asked from the door.

All eyes turned to the tired, somber face of Eloise who had heard the arguing and decided to see what exactly was going on.

Anthony and Benedict gave pleading looks to Daphne to not tell their younger sister.  They might be able to bury this letter with her knowing but not Eloise.

Daphne clearly didn’t heed the warning. She narrowed their eyes at them before grabbing the letter back from her husband, crossing the room and extending it to her younger sister.

“I’ll leave the massacre of our idiotic brothers to you,” Daphne uttered before moving out of the room just as quickly as she’d arrived.  The Duke offered a sympathetic look to Anthony and Benedict before following after his wife.