#twice spent comet

[ziggyschutz]

The fall from hopeful revolutionary to prison labourer is a hard one. Fer's world has shrunk from the whole damn universe to this anonymous asteroid and the four other convicts who share it with them. It's a fitting end, for someone who used to wish on stars but now can only seem to collect endings.

My first novella, TWICE SPENT COMET, is coming out December 3rd of 2024!

If you like space mermaids and found families, you might want to check this one out~

(and if you read an older version of this story, it is now about twice as long and so much better. reworking this was a lesson in healing, for me. i'm so excited and also so nervous for it to enter the world... i cannot wait to hear what you all think)

Goodreads || From the Publisher || Preorder the Ebook Paperback preorders are coming soon!

[shycroissanti]

IRINA'S PAST💙

Based on the drawings I posted earlier, now I'm going to talk a little about Irina's past and her family.

Irina was always cheerful, but much calmer before the comet incident. She lived with her mother - Yuliya, her father - Masato and her sister - Liliya.

Yuliya was part of the demon corps, she was always very kind and the most important thing for her was to protect her two daughters, she had the dream of defeating all the demons and making the world a safe place for everyone, especially for her family.

Masato is an architect (I think, that was the first idea that came to my mind) he didn't really like his wife being involved with the work of killing demons, and Irina wanting to be a hashira was a big disappointment for him.

Irina and Liliya always followed Yuliya everywhere when she wasn't on missions. Until one cold night, it was snowing a lot, Yuliya left for her last mission... She said goodbye to her husband and her daughters. Irina and Liliya said goodbye as always, they just didn't know that their mother wouldn't return from this mission alive.

A few years passed, Liliya spent more time with Masato as she liked to be safe, meanwhile, Irina was always out of the house, spending time with Kishin or training with Kyojuro.

(At that time, Liliya already knew that her mother had died, but Irina still believed that she would return, it was just taking time because it was a long mission... but that's a detail for the future🤫)

Now, after the comet incident, Irina was even more impulsive and noisy, until her father got tired and in a moment of anger went to Irina and told her to leave the house.

When Irina questioned why, he said it was part of hashira training and for her to return only when Yuliya returned home (yes, he is a horrible father😭)

Irina left without thinking twice, and on that exact day Kishin and Yuina became demons. Since Irina couldn't return home and Kishin and Yuina couldn't stay at the orphanage as demons, the three went together to the forest, where they eventually found their home.

As soon as Liliya discovered her father's cruelty, she soon ran away from home, but as she didn't see where Irina went, she ended up getting lost, so it took a long time for her to find Irina again, she only found her after a year or two🥺

(Yuina belongs to @larz-barz :3 💖)

(Forgive me for any writing errors and thank you very much for reading❤️)

[mysticstarlightduck]

Out of Context Line Snippet Tag!

Thanks for the tag, @the-golden-comet (here)! Not really an out of context line tag but rather using this as a Writing Share Tag for a snippet I really liked to write, but here we go!

Let's go with another excerpt from Scrapyard Boys, shall we? (:

There was the sound of a door slamming, followed by the shuffle of a backpack being dropped and a few unintelligible mumbles, as the lilac-haired young adult trudged into the apartment, turning on the light.

Rhys peeked around the corner of the cramped lobby, "Uh. Hi, Adrien!" He said, a bit louder than he intended to, but that on its own didn't really matter, because as soon as he opened his mouth, the other had scrambled away so fast it looked he'd practically somersaulted back towards the door will a yelp.

Rhys' mouth turned to a thin line, still smiling by the way, as he remained planted in the entrance of the room. Meanwhile, Adrien pressed himself against the farthest corner of the room, grasping at his own shirt like an old woman clutching her peals.

After a moment of awkward, wide-eyed silence, Adrien finally spoke, panting for air, "Ok, firstly-" He looked at Rhys, then at the other twin sitting on his couch like this was just another Tuesday, and brows furrowing as he tried to grasp what was going on, "What. The. Fuck?!!"

Rhys opened his mouth to reply, but behind him, Gwyn spoke up first, "Told you that we should've turned on the light." She said, nonchalantly.

The male twin whirled around, "But if we had turned on the light he wouldn't have even walked in! Then all this trip would be for nothing, wouldn't it -" As they began to bicker, the young adult cleared his throat.

"Um. Hold on." He speaks up like an awkward student about to ask the teacher a question, "Lights aside, are none of you going to address the fact that you literally broke into my apartment. On the third floor. And didn't you guys live half a country away, at that old fucker's house? How the fuck did you even find me?"

Rhys spoke up, "That's kind of a long story," He cringed, running a hand through his tousled hair, "And in short: you left the window open so we just made a little ice stair and climbed up to here; no, because Grandma-Dearest pawned us off to a lab where we spent out past three years, and Gwyn" She waved giddily at Adrien after the mention of her name, "- May or may not have found your address after hacking into your social media account." He said it all in one breath.

Adrien blinked once, then twice. On the third time, he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighed, and shouldered past the teen standing in the lobby, "I am far too fucking sober for this shit but a'right." He sighs again, "Whatever."

Noticing that the twins seemed to still be expecting some sort of confirmation, "Yes, that means you can stay." He said, with an exasperated roll of his eyes, lighting a cigarette, "There's pizza on the fridge. I think."

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart, @ray-writes-n-shit

@writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams and OPEN TAG

[lil-oreo-crumbles]

Hey, got any thoughts about Seth?

Oh, do I ever!!

Seth is an incredibly fascinating, dominant, and looming presence in the Magic Book of Spells with the potential to be one of the most intriguing characters in the entirely of SVTFOE… that was tragically underutilized, slapped in the face, and is who I believe to be the source of the biggest missed potential in the entirety of canon.

But I do not trust the writers at all to have handled him in the show proper.

The Septarians are notoriously treated like absolute dirt. Any and all of the Septarians we meet have either been humiliated, turned into a joke, villainized beyond any humanity, and overall treated awfully. They’re portrayed as this unfeeling, violent, monster species with no (biological? cultural?) ability to forgive or forget the countless atrocities the Mewmans committed against innocent people. GEEZ, It’s not like the Septarians have enhanced longevity and experience time differently than almost EVERY OTHER SPECIES ON MEWNI with most of them FIRST HAND experiencing the atrocities other species of monsters and ESPECIALLY Mewmans see as “bygone eras of the past!!”

And even with the book alone, Seth is also lumped into this stereotype, and may be one of the worst offenders. Globgor can’t stand him and has intense bias against him (I know he talked about “Septarians” but my god we all know he means Seth to some degree. Seth is very clearly a prominent figure if not the leader of the Septarians and he’s pictured/alluded to twice in Eclipsa’s chapter), bitch Crescenta smeared his name into the DIRT in a rigged election campaign and destroyed his reputation, and Comet refused to take him seriously whatsoever (but then again it’s Comet so what are we really expecting??). He was even on the Magic High Commission’s radar, labeled as an “extremist” (which just about anything is labeled “extreme” in the MHC’s eyes so they’re not reliable narrators). He’s spat upon and repeatedly villainized. He gets no breaks or even a glimpse of humanity and everyone in the fandom after the book came out was hyping him up as this huge villain.

So, yeah, I don’t think the show would have bothered to give him any humanity or depth if he was introduced in the show proper and would have made egregiously worse the show’s already bad problem of making monsters, the historically marginalized and colonized group of people, the bad guys. (Seriously, Meteora wasn’t a “real” threat until she was revealed to be half monster. That makes me frustrated.)

I love Seth. I think he would’ve had amazing potential if put in the right hands. There’s so much to do with him and I’m mostly glad he’s been left alone so fans can interpret him in any way they want.

Now… what are my opinions and headcanons about him? What’s the story I’ve concocted?

Thankfully Seth is a character I can talk about without worrying about AU spoilers… mostly (thank god).

In my mind, Seth is someone who actually didn’t see the Great Monster Massacre first hand, hatching about 200 years afterwards (due to my timeline and how I’ve designed Septarian aging). But that doesn’t mean whatsoever that he hasn’t seen the atrocities of Mewmans. In fact, he’s been put in several situations where— while not Moe levels of genocide— he has seen the cruelest and most inhumane levels of Mewman aggression against monsters. He’s a victim of it first hand and spent 80+ years through torture after being ripped away from his homeland before finally uprising against it with his sister (oh yeah he has a sister in my AU)

He is someone who wholeheartedly earned the respect and adoration of his people. He was a leader that they wanted, not because of blood or any ties to the throne he had. (He’s by blood the Prince of Septarsis, but by the time he came back to Septarsis not many people remembered him since he had changed so much). He completely changed the governmental system and put Septarsis into its golden age.

Now this is what may get me in trouble, but stick with me… I don’t think the reputation he’s acquired is completely unfounded. YES the Mewmans and MHC are incredibly biased and we can’t take what they say at face value, but some stereotypes have some truth to them. It’s way overexaggerated, but Seth is someone who I see as extremely trigger happy in his youth.

While a great leader and delegate, he can be incredibly rash and actively seeks violence against Mewmankind. Never Solaria or Moe levels of genocide… but if Mewmans happened to disappear one day he’d be over the moon. This makes him a fun foil for Toffee’s mother in my AU, Mylanie, who’s someone who strives to end the conflict and seek lasting peace.

In the early days he was active in battle and loved fighting against his adversaries. In fact, I find the idea of Seth being the one to kill Solaria— specifically beheading her with his own hands— fascinating and I LOVE IT. He’s not afraid to get messy when protecting monsters or his homeland, and the stories about his violence is NOT unfounded. If anyone is perpetuating ideas about Septarian stereotypes, it’s our buddy Seth.

But here’s the important distinction, he is not going out of his way hurting innocent people. He’s not this bloodthirsty monster who’s trying to commit genocide, he’s not Solaria, he’s just someone who sees violence as the answer and thinks peace is a waste of time.

It wasn’t until the election that his priorities changed and he actually calmed down.

The smear campaign was a huge blow. It really got him to think and consider how his actions were affecting monsters as a whole but especially his own people. He knows how much influence he has over how his people are perceived… and that’s when he pulled back. He was still active, don’t get me wrong, and got along diplomatically with the few surviving monster civilizations, but he took a lot less of a role than he used to. He started thinking critically and cleverly instead of resorting to violence first and foremost. Peace with Mewmans was still firmly off the table though and is still that way to this day.

When Comet sent the invitation, he genuinely planned to ignore it. He had no intention of going to the banquet— as last time he played along with Mewman rules he got screwed— but did allow Toffee to be a representative after Toffee offered to go in his place.

Under one condition: No harm was to come to the Queen

And we see how that went…

I’d gladly go into his relationship/dynamic with Toffee but this post is long enough :). Maybe in another post!!

His “death” was a stunt to fully get him out of any Mewman drama, and he was especially glad he perpetuated that lie because of how pissed he was at Toffee after Comet’s death. He’s alive and well and still in charge of Septarsis, he’s just out of the public eye because everyone thinks he’s dead (except close allies).

Overall I see him as someone who was essentially what his reputation said he was until he got a huge ego blow and actually matured enough to stop being so trigger happy. He was always a great leader over Septarsis and did whatever it took to protect his people, but he had some growing up to do as well.

And this is just the tip of the iceberg. My AU goes into him a lot deeper and really fleshes him out. He’s a four dimensional character with layers and depth to him. While he seems like a Mewman hating “radical” on the surface, he’s humanized and he has layers and reasonings for his beliefs and actions.

I just love Seth. A lot. He’s so silly. He’s so fascinating and I love that everyone has a different perspective of him.

Also he is Rasticore’s dad you can’t change my mind !!

Dude I could literally make a whole other post on him I love this character so much—

Anyways here’s Seth and his little sister Zarina I love them to bits <3

[paeliae-occasionally]

OC questionnaire.

Thanks @honeybewrites for the tag.

I will be answering for Kell, Paeliae and Zahra

Cake or ice cream?

Kell: Hmm. I have never had ice cream. It would melt before it got to Daliva. I could never afford cake, but the tavern sometimes has spare food that we can eat, and once they bought a cake. It was delicious. I love cake.

Paeliae: An important question. I have to go with ice cream. It gets quite warm in Laith’Emeris and that makes cold food lovely in the summer.

Zahra: Cake. It’s more substantial. Ice cream is mainly water and it melts quickly, whereas cake you can savour and eat slowly. It is also more solid and filling than ice cream.

If you were given the choice to read minds, but you could never lie again, would you?

Kell: No. I lie a lot. It is a good skill to have. Also I wouldn’t want to see inside people’s heads. If it is important they can say it to me.

Paeliae: Yes. I think so. I can deceive in other ways than lying, besides I am mainly truthful, but seeing into someone’s mind, their intentions, loyalties. That could be invaluable for politics.

Zahra: That feels a bit invasive. I think I would still take it though, but I would ask before using it on anyone I care about.

You’re given immortality, but if anyone finds out you die. How are you keeping it a secret?

Kell: I don’t think anyone would notice. Maybe I seem to have a stronger constitution than others, so what. The only person who would question would be Xaeren, but he hasn’t known me that long. I am sure I could convince him it was normal for me.

Paeliae: If I had a choice I would never take this power. I have spent the last few years of my life arguing against immortality, the hypocrisy would not escape me. I would just live out my normal days and then tell Ander or someone, so that I may die on time.

Zahra: I would travel. Make sure no one knows me twice in their lifetime by constantly moving around the continent. They would not realise that I am the same person who came through 100 years ago.

Your Questions:

When were you most tired?

what would it take for you to give up on your goal?

What is a flaw that you have?

Tagging @saturnine-saturneight, @aintgonnatakethis, @fortunatetragedy, @fourwingedwriter and @the-golden-comet

[scrumptiouslytooarcade-blog]

{NEVER ENOUGH}

— USELESS...YOU'RE JUST USELESS!! — That imposing figure said while hitting the table violently, making that defenseless cookie tremble, he tried to hold back his tears but it was useless...

— I-I'm sorry...I-I did my best to take care of her...I-I swore...B-But she just...j-just... — That cookie had in his hands small remains of star dust, a star had just died...due to his lack of attention...A star died because of his incompetence...AGAIN.

— IT'S THE FOURTH STAR THAT DIES IN YOUR HANDS!! I CREATED YOU SO THAT YOU WOULD BE ABLE TO UNDERSTAND THEM, TO UNDERSTAND THEM, TO TAKE CARE OF THEM!! AND LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE!! — That wizard hit the table again, very close to that cookie, who simply broke into tears begging for mercy.

Moonlight Cookie and the other wizards simply watched that heartbreaking scene, Moonlight Cookie wanted them to do something, but the wizards simply refused to intervene... It was none of their business... And certainly... They also agreed that Space Comet... WAS INCOMPETENT... Which tore Moonlight apart... How could his creators be so cruel to him?

— Listen to me well, useless cookie... If another star dies again... I WILL CRUMB YOU... — Said that wizard with a terrifying tone... Walking away with the other wizards, leaving Moonlight and the cookie already known as Space Comet alone.

— Space Comet-... — Moonlight tried to give her friend a hand, but he flatly refused to accept her help... He didn't deserve it... Not at all...He just run away from her...ignoring her calling...

Moonlight was just perfect... She was everything the wizards wanted... He couldn't do his job as well as she did... At this point he should be discarded... Erased...

It didn't matter what he did... It didn't matter if he spent days without sleeping or eating taking care that those delicate stars didn't perish in his care... He did the best he could... Those stars were like his children... And if seeing them die was devastating... Being scolded and blamed for it was twice as horrible... It was as if he had let his children die...

And even with all that sacrifice... With all that pain... IT WAS NEVER...NEVER ENOUGH...

Nothing he did seemed to satisfy the wizards... his creators... unlike everyone else...

HE WAS NEVER ENOUGH...

(Space Comet is Wish Comet deadname, he just suffer so much abuse and was very insecure in the past...And even when he became Wish Comet Cookie...Bad things keep happening to him)

[lboogie1906]

Gale Eugene Sayers (May 30, 1943 - September 23, 2020) was a former football player who earned acclaim both as a halfback and return specialist in the NFL. He spent seven seasons with the Chicago Bears, though multiple injuries effectively limited him to five seasons of play. He was known for his elusiveness and agility and was regarded by his peers as one of the most difficult players to tackle.

Nicknamed the “Kansas Comet”, he played college football for the Kansas Jayhawks, where he compiled 4,020 all-purpose yards over three seasons and was twice recognized as a consensus All-American. He set a league record by scoring 22 touchdowns, including a record-tying six in one game, and gained 2,272 all-purpose yards en route to being named the NFL’s Rookie of the Year. He continued this production through his first five seasons, earning four Pro Bowl appearances and five first-team All-Pro selections. A right knee injury forced him to miss the final five games, but he returned to lead the NFL in rushing yards and be named the NFL Comeback Player of the Year. An injury to his left knee, as well as subsequent injuries, kept him sidelined for most of his final two seasons.

His friendship with Bears teammate Brian Piccolo inspired him to write his autobiography, I Am Third, which in turn was the basis for the movie Brian’s Song. He was inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame and remains the youngest person to receive the honor. He was named to the NFL’s 75th Anniversary Team as a halfback and kick returner, the only player to occupy two positions on the team. He was inducted into the College Football Hall of Fame the same year. His jersey number (40/48, respectively) is retired by both the Bears and the University of Kansas. He began a career in sports administration and business and served as the athletic director of Southern Illinois University. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence #kappaalphapsi

[scotianostra]

June 12th 1843 saw the birth of David Gill, the Scottish astronomer.

David Gill was born at 48 Skene Terrace in Aberdeen the son of David Gill, watchmaker and his wife Margaret Mitchell. He was educated first at Bellevue Academy in Aberdeen then at Dollar Academy, he spent two years at the University of Aberdeen where amongst his tutors was the great James Clerk Maxwell. After his education he joined the family business, but his heart was elsewhere and he later sold it to take up astronomy more professionally. Gill was one of the great astronomers of the late 19th century, and was universally recognised as such.

He made significant contributions to many areas of astronomy, including the measurement of the sun’s distance and the completion of a successful photographic survey of stars in the southern hemisphere, known as the Cape Photographic Durchmusterung. Gill is credited, along with fellow Scot, George Washington Wilson with being the first person to take a photograph of the moon in 1868 and the first photo of the Great Comet of 1882 from Cape Town as seen in the pics.

David Gill appears to be the only Scot to have been awarded the Bruce Medal for lifetime achievement in astronomy; the only Scot to have been awarded the Watson medal for outstanding astronomy by the US National Academy of Sciences; and the only Scot to have been awarded the Gold Medal of the Royal Astronomical Society twice.

Unusually though Gill was never astronomers royal for Scotland, indeed of the 10 appointed to this post only three were Scots, quite an alarming statistic seeing as we had so many eminent men hailing from our shores.

Back to David Gill, His meticulous observation coupled with precision instrument design was Gill’s forte, in what nowadays would be known as astrometry. Gill provided a number of definitive astronomical constants used to create nautical almanacs throughout the world, constants such as the mass of the moon, the scale of the solar system, the wobble of the Earth’s axis. This led to better almanacs, helping to make navigation at sea more accurate.

In particular he spent years working out the average distance from the Earth to the sun, which is vital for calculating the scale of the solar system. This distance is the yardstick used to measure all stellar distances. He took it from having an accuracy of +/- 4% at the start of his career to within 0.1% of modern values. There is no point n just throwing numbers up there that most of us wont understand, but if I tell you that he predetermined the distance to the sun with such precision that his value was used for almanacs until 1968 I think it will put it more into perspective.

He may never have been our Astronomer Royal, David Gill did however hold the post of President in the Royal Astronomical Society, President from 1909-11. Gill passed away in 1914 aged 70 and was buried in the grounds of St Machar’s Cathedral, Aberdeen.

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - Best Fic of 2022

It’s the last day of 2022! We made it, friends, and so it’s time for my annual list of my favorite reads from the year. All of these are amazing, and I spent hours on this list because I kept stopping to reread favorite bits. Check ‘em out. And feel free to send me your favorite reads of 2022! 

~*~ 

Think of This as Solving Problems (That Should Never Have Occurred) by Sineala

No one knows Tony is Iron Man. Then Tony gets amnesia, and literally no one knows Tony is Iron Man.

Sine is always a real treat to read, and I had somehow managed to miss reading this in the past, so I got to enjoy it this year and it was just--lovely. No one does identity porn the way Sine does. 

Some Kind of Personal War by sara_holmes 

And Tony realizes that working out who the Winter Soldier used to be and who he is now are two entirely different things.

The rest of this series is also amazing, but the first part is Bucky/Nat--it’s only part two and three that introduces Stevetony. The entire series is well worth reading, though. 

Teenage Dream by Etharei

"That," says Tony, tone unmistakably smug despite his split lip, "is Captain America. Who, by the way, happens to be my godfather."

I am a sucker for age difference, and also for Steve being utterly protective and besotted, and I loved this verse so much I think I read it twice in December alone. 

Magnetic North by msermesth

Tony joins Steve on his post-Secret Empire road-trip-slash-pity-party.

Turns out the road home is paved with a lot of arguments and sex.

I dug into comics this year, but I still haven’t gotten to Secret Empire, but I really enjoyed this--I had enough working knowledge of the story that it enhanced my reading, but I didn’t feel like it was necessary to enjoy the slow progression Steve and Tony had to each other. 

Like a Comet Streaming On by Sineala

Tony escapes Afghanistan with a functioning Iron Man suit and a perfectly normal heart. He even manages to bring Ho Yinsen home safely at his side. But he may as well have lost everything... because his wolfbrother is dead. Six months later, the Avengers find Captain America, frozen in ice, miraculously alive. Everything and everyone Steve has ever known is gone -- except his wolfsister, the recipient of the lupine version of the super-soldier serum, who was frozen in his arms. Tony has everything but his wolf. Steve has only his wolf. This is how their lives fit together.

I love the worldbuilding in this, and the grief that Tony goes through, the slow bonding between Tony and Steve (and Libby) is just--perfection. 

Mr. July by jibrailis

Tony is the only one who can defend Steve's virtue. Tony hates his life.

It’s just fun. That’s all it is. Just pure fun. 

One-Man Army by Captain_Panda

Takes place immediately after the Chitauri attack in Avengers 1.

Steve is running himself into the ground. Tony notices.

Then Steve gets knocked down hard. And Tony intervenes.

This is absurdly long, and had been unfinished for a while--when it was finished earlier this year, I put it on my list to read and it was even better than I expected--despite the length, it’s exquisitely plotted and perfectly written, and held my attention throughout, something that’s rare during a fic that long. It’s well worth the read. 

For the Love of a Dragon by Captain_Panda

When Steve went down with the Valkyrie, he thought his days with dragons were over.

Then he meets Tony Stark, who inherited Howard Stark's dragon.

As the kids say: "It's complicated."

This entire series is perfect--the world building of dragons in a modern, canon compliant world is just--flawless. I adored the dragons, I adored how different they were and how well they interacted with the people they chose made complete sense and just--I adored it. 

Dangerous Kitchen Tools by ladyshadowdrake

Engineering prodigy, billionaire, and heir to the Stark Industries empire, Tony Stark turned the business world on its head by opening a restuarant and burying himself in the kitchen. Years later, he covers an informal evening cooking class for his friend and fellow molecular gastronomist, Bruce Banner, where he meets famously camera-shy comic artist Steve Rogers.

I really love chef AU’s and this was just so lovely, soft and sweet and perfect. I loved it. 

all in by spqr

What matters is that Steve only hates him 99% of the time now, and the other 1% of the time they laugh together and fight side by side and they’re friends.

Tony’s used to having to wring little bits of love out of people.

He can do it.

I really love SPQR (which is why they’re on this list twice) and this is a flawless little CW AU. 

Patriarch by spqr 

Steve ducks into the hall and comes back with a warm, freshly-laundered towel, which feels so good when he wraps it around Tony’s shoulders that he almost lets out a moan. “There we go,” Steve says. “Don’t want you to catch cold.”

“Thanks, daddy,” Tony quips, because he’s an idiot.

Except Steve’s close enough, his hands wrapped around Tony’s biceps through the towel, that Tony can feel his full-body shudder.

Here we have my most read fic of the year. I think I read this once or twice a month since it was published in March. It’s all my favorite things--mafia, age gap, daddy kink, dangerously possessive Steve. It’s amazing and perfect and I’m gonna go read it again. 

angels who sin by meidui

Summer air is thick and sweet, like Tony's voice pouring honey into Steve's throat, telling Steve more than he needs to know. He's here with his parents for the summer, he just finished his first year at college, he doesn't believe in God but his parents make him come to church.

"They said you can help me find faith," Tony says, as mischievous as he is innocent, and Steve is as good as gone.

Priest Steve, Twink Tony and meidui’s gorgeous prose? That’s it, that’s everything. 

seven years in heaven by meidui

Tony gave Steve everything in the divorce. Their beautiful Brooklyn brownstone and everything in it, Tony's beloved Audi, their private garden upstate. Tony even offered him the lakehouse, but Steve had looked up at him with red eyes and begged softly for him to stop.

Tony gave Steve everything, every last piece of himself. He didn't take much with him when he flew out to his mansion in Malibu, but he took every last piece of Steve, too.

This ached and hurt me in the best ways and then it put me back together. 

you great unfinished symphony (you sent for me) by ketchupcrisp

The last thing Steve Rogers ever expected to see on a Wednesday afternoon was his (their) dead submissive tumbling out of a portal and practically into Phil’s lap, very much alive and frantic about Soul Stones and timelines and some other version of the team.

This is technically poly, but the heavy focus is on Stevetony, and the world-building is just…very very well done. Excellently done. 

Forty-Seven Flat by geekymoviemom

Steve Rogers was on the top of the world. He was one of the top students in his class, a world-class athlete, and had a man who loved him. Winning an Olympic Gold Medal seemed like the perfect addition to his picture-perfect life.

But only four years later, Steve’s entire world has come crashing down around him, leaving defending his Olympic title the only thing lying between him and utter ruin.

And then, the unthinkable happens.

I’m a huge fan of superfamily, and sports AU, and this one is so well done--it’s a little unrealistic but fun and made me cry so, winner winner. 

Without Irony by tsukinofaerii

Open file TS_762-b.ims... Sometimes, when a drive is completely broken, the only thing to do is wipe it clean and start over. When he wakes up, Tony has no idea who he is, or what he did to end up where he is. Depending on who he talks to, he was a villain or a hero, a genius or a degenerate. What he is now is still up for debate, but it doesn't look like he's going to have much time to figure it out. With a computer in his head screwing up and a country falling to pieces, options are getting limited. Steve The world needs Iron Man a lot more than it needs Tony Stark.

I’m a huge fan of fic that covers Tony’s mind wipe and this one did such a great job of that. And then it follows up with part two (below). I looove this little series so much. 

Per Expectations by tsukinofaerii

After the events of Without Irony, Tony wakes up with a freshly rebooted memory and nearly all of his memories from before the deletion and none after. Nearly all isn't nearly enough, and what's missing just might be the most important thing he's ever forgotten. Tony's not sure he wants to remember, but if he doesn't it's going to be the death of him.

Tabula Rasa by Sineala 

Sometimes superheroes save the world. And sometimes they're too late.

Captain America's longtime villain Superia had a plan for revenge. She stopped the Avengers from ever finding Steve in the ice, tore the Avengers apart, and turned the world into her own personal authoritarian dystopia. A team made up of Captains America from across the multiverse came to set things right: they united all the remaining superheroes, took down Superia, and made sure the world would find Steve again.

Tony spent Superia's hellish reign as her prisoner, a suicidally-depressed disembodied brain trapped in a jar for years on end, begging the Avengers to kill him and put him out of his misery. The Captain America Corps instead gives him his freedom, a brand-new body, and even the Avengers -- including his very own Captain America. But Tony's not entirely sure he wants to be here. He's walking wounded, and he thinks some wounds are too deep to heal. He thinks there's no chance the Avengers will ever be what they could have been. He thinks there's no way Steve will ever be the friend and partner he could have been on so many other worlds.

Luckily for Tony, Steve happens to disagree with that.

I really loved this. It was sad, and it hurt to read because of how Tony was depicted, but it was just--perfectly done. 

The Last Love Song of Anthony E. Stark by jibrailis

After contracting an Asgardian virus, Tony starts forgetting things. And people. And Steve.

This is a fandom classic, and I finally got around to reading it and I was absurdly pleased with it--like it was so much better than I even hoped it’d be. 

Relativistic Heat Conduction by BlossomsintheMist

Age of Ultron-based, but not entirely canon compliant. Written for the 2013 Cap-Iron Man Reverse Big Bang. Ultron has attacked, obliterating most of the world's superheroes and resistance in a matter of hours. The remaining heroes band together and share what strength they have to get through it, to survive, and defeat Ultron once and for all. Steve Rogers grieves in the wake of the disaster and the heroes' defeat, and no one knows if he will be able to provide the leadership they need--but Tony Stark isn't about to let him slip away that easily.

This is extremely sad. It was a dark sad read that I loved so much. I especially loved the end--it shouldn’t have been possible to pull off a happy ending, but somehow, it worked, and it was sooooo good. 

[iamthecomet]

Comet, when you've got the time/chance to get around to this ask, I must know how the concert was!!! I need all the details, spill the tea, please? I couldn't make it to the Milwaukee ritual so I'm living through a ritual through others and dying to know!

SCOUT. Scout, I'm so sorry you didn't get to go to Milwaukee. But, since you asked, both of my rituals were fucking incredible. I've made a couple posts about it already. But long story short. Amon Amarth is amazing (they were the first death metal band I ever REALLY liked). Ghost ruined my life (positive) twice over. Getting barrier in CT was otherworldly and I will never go back to just GA pit, or seats, again (sorry to my cousin who hates the pit, he'll be sitting alone). Not just because of my interaction with Dew, or the pick I got. The people around us were so fucking happy to be there, and we were so happy to be there, it was like being part of a big party. Could not have been better. We were off to the side so we had room and weren't crammed together, and just got to rock out with each other and with Ghost and Amon Amarth. Dew was extra bendy, extra gremliny, and extra sweet for both shows. Made eye contact with Papa a couple times which is WILD. Had a great view of Mountain for the first show--which was really sick. Got to meet a handful of tumblr friends, and also trade bracelets/other stuff with a LOT of very sweet people. Just all in all it was basically perfect. It was so good that my partner and I spent half of yesterday trying to talk ourselves in and also out of going to another one (there was serious consideration about flying to LA). It was so fucking good, and I will never recover from it and I really don't want to. ♥

[killjoyhistory]

Official Danger Days Press Release from Warner Bros. Records

Sometimes, in order to grow, you need to tear down everything that came before. And, if you’re My Chemical Romance, sometimes you have to do it twice.

The Jersey band had conquered the globe with their platinum-selling third album, the bombastic and bleak The Black Parade, but two years of touring took their toll.

Every night the band strapped on their monochromatic uniforms, show after show frontman Gerard Way inhabited the skin of the album’s protagonist, the sickly, spiteful “Patient.” In every country visited, thousands of fans flocked to stadiums but with them came disturbing stories of violent confrontations on the city streets, of persecution based solely on their choice of clothes and professed passion for My Chemical Romance.

By the time the band reached its professional peak – headlining Madison Square Garden in the spring of 2008 – they were personally exhausted. “We saw the world and the world saw us,” says guitarist Frank Iero. “It was fun but it was grueling. That was a dark record to relive every night.”

At the end, “it was acrimonious, it was empty,” explains Gerard. “The album had become so misconstrued I felt like all I was doing was defending or apologizing for things. Speaking for kids who were victims of hate crimes. None of it had to do with music.”

And outside of the arenas, the band was changing too. The four core members – Gerard, his brother, bassist Mikey Way, and guitarists Iero and Ray Toro – were approaching 30 and all had either gotten married or were about to. The Black Parade – its darkness, its pomp and circumstance – was a triumphant struggle but the internally the group was ready for a different sort of battle.

“I wasn’t that person anymore,” Gerard says. “I don’t think anyone in the band was that person anymore. We looked like a bunch of guys in black. A bunch of really tired guys in black.”

And so The Black Parade was laid to rest. But not with a Busby Berkeley-esque funeral, like the one seen in MCR’s breakthrough video for “Helena” a few years back. No, it died suddenly and without ceremony.

Gerard decamped to Los Angeles with his wife, Lindsey, and their baby daughter Bandit. There he threw himself into Hollywood, working on translating his successful comic-book The Umbrella Academy for the screen. “Everybody needed to normalize and be a human being,” says Mikey, who spent time addressing the well-publicized anxiety issues that had plagued him during the Black Parade tour. “We all learned that it’s ok to enjoy things. You can smile. You can have fun and not be such a defeatist.”

But in 2009, when it became apparent that it was time to make music again, the old stresses quickly returned. Gerard set down a reactionary mandate: no concepts, no costumes. “It was going to be quick, stripped down, and raw,” Mikey explains. “A punch in the face without allegories or stories. Just a comet, a real fast hit.” Gerard and Ray traded inspirational mixtapes featuring the raw power rock of Iggy and the Stooges, lyrics were written about cars and kung-fu. “The sound was in opposition to what we had done on Black Parade,” Ray says. “But we had put all these walls up: what we could do, what it should sound like. It really limited what the band is capable of doing. We were going through the motions.” And yet, slowly, an album was made and mixed with producer Brendan O’Brien at the helm.

It was only then, at the 11th hour, that the frustrations and doubt that had lived beneath the recording process like an unwelcome squatter, began to squawk. “We kept saying ‘we’re going to have fun,’” Mikey says. “But we didn’t realize that it hadn’t been any fun.”

Gerard is more blunt: “If you’re guarded when writing music then the music’s not very good. That first attempt at an album was the sound of someone who didn’t want to open their mouth.” Disillusioned and depressed, he and his wife took their first vacation in years, decamping to the desert that surrounded their new hometown. And it was there, amidst the red rocks and cacti, the strange and primal nature that lurks and threatens just outside the man-made metropolis of Los Angeles, that Lindsey let her husband have it.

“She said, ‘look, you’re an artist and you’re trying not to be an artist,’” Gerard remembers. “I had started the band after 9/11 when I hated art. Black Parade had been about hiding and punishment. I couldn’t tell the truth so I’d talk about cancer instead. I had to put on a mask to show people who I really was. But now it was time to own it. To be who I was before this band started. And I had something in my back pocket: this song, ‘Na Na Na.’”

Back in Los Angeles in January of this year, the band regrouped at the home studio of Black Parade producer Rob Cavallo. “’Na Na Na’ really opened our eyes,” remembers Ray. “We’re all creative guys and Gerard is about ten times more creative than everyone else in the band. His brain is always firing. To limit that had been the worst thing we could do. It’s like clipping the bird’s wings.” The song is, in Gerard’s words, a “nail bomb”: an utterly outrageous explosion of every quirk, kick and punch the band had been holding in for years. Gone was the dark poetry, the gloom and doom.

In its place was unadulterated exuberance: Batman is namechecked, jazz hands are celebrated. Those who have spent time with Gerard know he has a wicked sense of humor and an innate love of showmanship. “Na Na Na” blasted through the frustration of the past year like a circus stuntman out of a cannon.

From there, it was off to the races. “We worked for two or three weeks undefined,” Gerard says. “We didn’t know if we were making a new album. Rob was working for free. He just knew there was magic happening and he kept capturing it.”

Among the rules that fell by the wayside was the band’s self-imposed strategy to work with a new producer everytime out. Though they had enjoyed their time with O’Brien, returning to Cavallo was, in Mikey’s words, “that clichéd thing where the beam shoots from the sky and the clouds open up. It was like going to war and coming home. It became this huge art project and we were all involved.”

“The one thing we kept saying is: we’ve got to bring the color back,” Frank says. “It’s hard to wear black all the fucking time. You want moments on your record where the brightness can shine through.” And if “Na Na Na” opened the door then it was the creation of “Planetary (GO!)” (“you keep eternity / give us the radio”) that knocked down the walls completely, letting all the wonderful Technicolor weirdness in for good. A four-on-the-floor glam-disco stomper, the song was a victory for recovering Britpopper Mikey.

“Being able to write a song like that for MCR was so liberating,” he says. “We realized we really can do anything. The rules were gone and anything could be on this album.” By the time they’d cracked the slow-burning, inspirational “Sing,” – another left-field improvision cultivated at Chez Cavallo – the band knew they were starting over. Gerard turned to Mikey with a smile and, almost by accident, named the new album: “Danger Days, here we come again!”

“The thing about the first try is that it was a perfectly normal rock record,” Gerard explains. “We looked normal. Short black hair. No more makeup. Perfectly tailored suits and leather jackets, perfectly made for the red states. And then we destroyed it. The question we faced was: would you destroy something perfect to make it beautiful? And that’s exactly what we did.” A straightforward song from the early sessions called “Trans Am” was ripped apart then tied to a rocket, re-emerging from the sci-fi ether as the worldbeating “Bulletproof Heart.” Motor City rave-ups like “Party Poison” were re-recorded and re-energized by the new direction while late-night experiments took on lives of their own.

The epic “S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W” (Frank: “that’s a weird one, man”) started as a chorus and then a song was built around it out of original loops, a haunting fortress constructed, brick-by-brick from sonic scraps. “A friend of mine told me that when Scorsese finishes a film the first thing he does is locate his best scene in the raw footage and cut it,” Gerard says. “We couldn’t fuck around with the past. We had to keep going.”

Out of the album’s chaotic creation, a concept came together, one loosely inspired by a comic-book project that dated back to the band’s earliest days criss-crossing the country in a beat-up van. “Sonically, we were trying to make stuff from the future,” Mikey says. “We imagined California in this post-apocolyptic 2019. These were all songs that would fit into that world.”

Bit by bit, pieces were added to the puzzle: the new songs were being broadcast by a pirate radio DJ, Dr. Death Defying, whose transmissions were a lifeline for the Fabulous Killjoys, a gang of dystopian rebel-kids attempting to survive a bleak maybe-future where art and color were illegal. But that’s as specific as the guys want to get. “A Killjoy is everybody,” Gerard explains. “It’s the band, the kids, the artists. Where I went wrong on Black Parade was trying to dicate the outcome. I can’t do that. The world is big, metal and chaotic and we’re just fragile little insects – one wrong move and you could get crushed. This is just a big pop art project.”

“If you want to know what a Killjoy looks like then go into a costume shop and put it together yourself,” Ray says. “On The Black Parade things got misconstrued. There is no enemy this time. Be creative. Use your voice, your community. Art is the only weapon.” With a familiar swagger returning to his voice, Gerard adds: “Rock and roll is old as hell and I’m not saying we’re gonna save it. We’re not trying to. We just want to make it beautiful.”

No song sums up the gleefully creative explosion that is Danger Days as well as “The Kids From Yesterday.” Recorded in May at the very end of the process, after Frank had already flown back to New Jersey to be with his expecting wife (they welcomed twin girls in July), the track is fresh yet immediately familiar, a bracing blast of invented nostalgia and misremembered memories.

It’s already the band’s favorite song on the album and, perhaps, in the entire My Chemical Romance catalogue. “Lyrically, I felt I had to write that song to be complete with the album,” Gerard says. “What it means to me is: I’m a grown-up now – we all are – and that’s cool. We’re a generation of wild artists, free thinkers, crazy people. We’re not going to lay down and have a boring life because we’re supposed to. ‘The Kids From Yesterday’ are the the adults, the ones who never forgot the feeling of holding onto a chain link fence yelling at the top of their lungs.”

The song completes the circuit from the last album’s fearful, freaky “Teenagers.” Gone is that song’s paranoia and fear of the future. In its place is hope. “Part of accepting being a grown-up is trusting the kids, our fans,” Gerard says. “My band is not leading you. Anything can be art. Anything can be self-expression. Now you take the weapon and run with it. Don’t be an easy target. You don’t always have to wear black. I feel like by adding color we’re handing off the keys to the fucking rocket!”

Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys is the album My Chemical Romance have been building towards their entire, nearly decade long career.

From soaring sentiment (“The Only Hope for Me is You”) to bare-knuckled brawling in the streets (“DESTROYA”) it defies lazy labels and demolishes expectations. Beholden to no scene, credo or code it’s a rock’n’roll album from the future aimed directly at the dead-hearted present.

“Next year it’ll be ten years since we’ve been together,” Frank says, “that’s a long time to stay in one shade. And I think if you’ve been a fan of our band for a long time then you need these different feelings in your life, these different emotions to come through. And I know that because it’s what we need right now.”

“Black Parade was asking for a lot of misery and punishment. Danger Days is asking for a big hyperspace adventure,” Gerard explains, finally, with a wink. “We’re not saying we deserve it. We’re just asking.”

(Source: 1)

[shycroissanti]

GOOD TAKAHIRO AU🌌

I was here thinking about a cute AU, where Takahiro is good!! Like, Irina would have been hit by the comet and her father abandoned her, Kishin would be a demon. But the moment the two flee through the forests, instead of surviving alone, Irina and Kishin would find Takahiro. He is a good and very humble man, he lives with his wife in a comfortable house on a mountain. Takahiro is an astronomer and he spent a lot of time observing the stars, until he sadly went blind.

Takahiro would help Irina and Kishin without thinking twice and they would be great friends. He knows a lot about astronomy and so he would help Irina understand her powers. On the other hand, Irina would help him with observation and notes about the stars.

I think this is cute🥺

Very random, but cute XD

[pathstread]

we know that the mages of valyria were experimenting in the creation of half human and half beast creatures, creatures who were born terrible and twisted. ailsa is not quite the result of such experiments, though from something similar. by sorcery, she was bound to the being of a seal. she was never meant to live as long as she has, but not long after she first learned to swim in her seal skin (before she’d even learned to walk), the doom of valyria fell. ailsa was in the sea nearby, and though she does not remember much of those days, she remembers great pain before she could finally swim deep enough and far enough to escape it. little did she know that it was an outburst of magic, one last chaotic thrill of it. it bound her life to the sea and her existence to magic. she would age incredibly slowly, and may (in fact) never die at all.

while she could always walk upon the shore at will due to her spellbound seal-skin, shedding it and re-donning it took great amounts of energy - - - more and more as magic faded from the realms. eventually she found herself so tired of the doings of mankind, so exhausted from the effort of becoming human, that she took to the sea in years-long chunks, slowly forgetting what it was like to be a human in between. she makes her way over the years to the north, and finds she likes the waters there the most. she comes to shore once or twice, sometimes with the wildlings and sometimes the northmen, but she rarely stays on shore more than a small handful of years.

and so it went until the passing of the comet and the birth of dany’s dragons (events she is, usually, unaware of), when - - for the first time in so many years - - changing from one form to the other did not require so much strength.

she’s very hard to kill, but it’s not impossible. this does not mean she’s immune to injury. “normal” injuries that would kill others WILL wound and weaken her. she bears a number of scars from such injuries in the past. she has survived them all. more on all of this (and her weak points in general) later!

even in her human form, you definitely can’t drown her. she’ll just hold her breath, swim deep under the water, and swim away. 

she’s basically immune to cold? even in her human form when there’s no reason for it to not bother her so much, it just doesn’t. when she’s fresh out of the water, this can often mean she forgets that, to look normal, she should be wearing shoes/heavy clothing/cloaks/gloves etc. she’ll often wander around barefoot in the ice. 

connected to some sort of magical sensitivity to other forms of magic, ailsa can sense certain abilities without knowing what they are. when it comes to the starks and any affiliated warging abilities, she can smell “wolf” on them. this doesn’t mean she knows anything about them other than that they don’t quite smell human. this same sort of sense holds true to other shape-shifting types as well, and would also apply to anyone connected with dragons. (she’d smell the hint of dragonfire on dany, for example, while melisandre would smell more like some kind of woodsmoke.)

her first language was not the common tongue of westeros. and while she has picked up quite a few languages over her hundreds of years of existence, her time spent in the sea without human language often confuses her. this means that she often hast to sort through several languages to find the right word, and she doesn’t always succeed. (it’s usually at least close enough to make sense.) she’s more comfortable with valyrian than anything else, though even that was not actually her mother tongue. 

[cilldaracailin]

You’re My Best Friend

Hello My Tumblr Lovelys!

And here it is. The newest story in the Robyn and Taron series. Just to say, this story gets a mature warning for some parts so I am giving everyone the heads up now.

And enough chit chat.

Please read and enjoy their next adventure together.

Love Suze xx

1

“You are damaged and broken and unhinged. But so are shooting stars and comets.”

It had been in total a week and two days since Robyn had left the hospital: a week since Taron had left her and two days since her check-up with Doctor Kay. The doctor had been very pleased with her test results and sent her back home with a grin and a smile.

“You have been listening.” He said to her as he read through her blood results. “Doing what you are told?”

“Always.” Robyn replied, though the doctor asked her about the glint in her eye before he went onto to explain about cutting her medication down.

Her iron levels were holding strong and her body was adapting to her new medication and now she barely felt sick any more after taking the tablets. The doctor had given her to go ahead to change her medication from three tablets to two tablets a day, one in the morning and one in the evening. As her symptoms had been so severe in the end and she had collapsed, the doctor wanted to ensure that she was still getting enough iron and she had appointment in four weeks for another blood test and assessment, to chat about getting her down to one tablet but Doctor Kay was extremely pleased with how much she had improved since he had last seen her, even more delighted to hear she had been following all the instructions she left the hospital with, adding more green food into her meals, and taking it easy in her recovery.

Robyn was still on leave from work, taking the second week off for further rest which she would never admit to anyone but she was so glad of. After Taron had left her on Wednesday the previous week, she spent the next few days sleeping and only moving around to get food, shower and stretch her legs around her home. Before he left to head back to London, Taron had given her strict written instructions to follow and he had stuck post it notes everywhere in her home, the same words written down on each page.

“Sleep, sleep, eat and more sleep.”

She was once again puzzled at how he had managed to stick them places without her knowing and had spent a few minutes taking them all down after he left, apart from the one on her TV in her bedroom, because she still felt like she needed that one to look at every day to help remind her to slow down. Only because on the Thursday after the Welshman left, she had found herself slipping back into her old ways and mid clean of her home, had to stop to sit on the couch to catch her breath, abandoning her clean to go and lay down as the room spun and she felt a headache coming on strong. She hadn’t attempted to do more than make her bed every day after that.

Taron was constantly on her back about resting and relaxing and after three days of twice daily phone calls and texts on every break he had on set, she softened to his concerned tone knowing he was worried about her. Also, he still threatened to take cwtch from her if she didn’t follow through with his words, saying he could easily organise for someone to come and take cwtch which she knew was very possible as he knew where she hid her spare key. He had stared down at her with deep green eyes before he left, using cwtch as a bargaining tool as he stood with his case at her breakfast bar.

“And I mean it Robyn.” He had said to her firmly as he held the blue dinosaur above his head so she couldn’t reach him. “You are to rest and sleep and relax and watch all the shows I popped into your favourites. I will be giving you a quiz.”

So far, he had not followed through on coming to take cwtch from her but Robyn had carried the dinosaur everywhere with her for the first few days before she had decided Taron really wouldn’t come and take her precious dinosaur. She very much appreciated his thoughtfulness of filling her hours with a variety of TV programmes while she sat at home resting as her days were spent lying in bed, sleeping and slowly recuperating after her hospital stay in the very beginning. While getting used to her medication, she needed something to distract herself with and Taron had picked some good shows for her to binge with.

Every day it got a little easier and she could feel her strength returning bit by bit and once she made sure she ate with every tablet, her body was healing with the medicine she had been prescribed. She had been initially worried about changing her medication to two tablets as she was afraid she would start feeling ill again but now two days in on two tablets a day, she didn’t notice any difference, her energy building back up each day, her tiredness fading and she thanked her lucky stars that her headaches never came back and her dizziness was a thing of the past. The bruising on her left shoulder had faded and the little cut on her forehead didn’t need a plaster any more, the tiny little wound healing fast. She felt how much stronger she was getting, how like her old self she was and when she walked to the piano earlier that Wednesday morning to play, she sat for nearly two hours before she realised how much time had passed by. It made her feel wonderful when she was finished, sending Taron a number of voice notes and a quick little video too, Taron replying back with a tonne of love hearts. It was the first time she really and truly felt better, and stood up with a genuine smile on her face, going back to her bed to finish watching one of the shows Taron had suggested for her.

With only a few days of her two weeks left, she was making the most of her days off before returning to work and fully intended on passing Taron’s TV quiz, the Welshman already testing her over a phone call for a show she watched in a day, the two chatting quite late, Robyn giggling as Taron fell asleep twice on the end of the line, eventually telling him to go to sleep. Their quiz continued through text, though Taron was sure Robyn cheated many times, telling her to stop goggling the answers. In saying that though, even without the quiz Robyn enjoyed Taron’s broad range of tastes and he definitely introduced her to some new and interesting programmes, widening her choice quite a lot and she was really taking advantage of her time off to work to properly rest up. Emma had told her not to return until she was ready, taking the time she needed to recuperate but Robyn had given Monday, two weeks and two days after her fall as her day to go back, even agreeing to work a half day to ensure her body agreed with her decision. She was enjoying her time off though as it had been a long time since she had two weeks off in a row with no plans, nowhere to go and no rushing around and she had really followed through with everyone’s instructions to take care of herself.

Along with his organisation of her TV to keep her occupied, Taron had also sent her another bunch of flowers which arrived on Thursday, the day after he had left her. Friday, she had another bunch from Taron’s mam and then as soon as she had just got those flowers into water, her doorbell rang again with another flower delivery from Richard. She was in the middle of texting Richard to thank him for the flowers and her doorbell rang again. She accepted the very large but light box from the delivery driver with a smile, signing the tablet with her signature to say she took the package in. She had to place it on the floor in her kitchen as her breakfast bar was currently full of flowers but also the box was quite large and it was too big to place on her counter top. There was nothing to say who the box was from and she pulled the tape off the top, opening the box and once she had folded back the four sides, balloons floated up, giving her a slight fright as they nearly hit her ceiling. She pulled on the purple ribbon bringing the balloons down to her eye line and started to laugh. Two balloons were get well soon balloons with a pun for each one, the ‘get whale soon’ and ‘bee well soon’ writing making her giggle. The blue foil dolphin made her smile and as she pulled down the yellow chicken and space rocket, she didn’t even have to guess who her massive box of balloons was from. The red love heart in the middle of them, made her heart thump a little faster and she let go of the ribbons again, the balloons floating back up to her ceiling. She lifted them out of the box, carefully placed the weight on the floor. She tilted the box towards her and at the bottom was a card.

“I thought three bunches of flowers would be too much and balloons are fun.”

The note was in Taron’s own handwriting and she went back to the box to look for a sender address but there was nothing. Looking to the balloons she grinned, turning back to her collections of flowers. She had moved the ones Taron had gotten her in the hospital into her bedroom, placing them on her make up table. She had placed the other bunch he had sent her on her piano and had found homes for her two new bouquets in her kitchen. Her balloons found their way to her bedroom and stood beside her make up table, and every time she looked at the them, she grinned, loving how her corner was decorated with beautiful and thoughtful gifts from Taron.

Along with Taron’s constant communication through phone calls, text messages, flowers and balloons, she had daily visits from her parents and her friends had organised a sleep over on Saturday night, teasing her mercilessly at how Taron had personalised her Netflix account for her and sent her flowers and balloons. Shane and Claire had cooked dinner and they ate, laughed and then crawled into Robyn’s bed afterwards, to watch one of Taron’s picks.

“So you really always share this bed together?” Shane asked her as they ate popcorn under her duvet, Robyn in the middle of them.

“Yes Shane.” She replied to her keeping her eye roll to herself.

“And like how does it work?” Shane saw her look. “I mean come on, you share a bed with him and I need details.”

“Do I ask how you and Daragh share a bed?” She looked to Claire. “And you and Nick?”

“But Claire is in a relationship.” Shane said to her. “And I am married man. You and Taron are… bleh.”

“Bleh?” Robyn asked throwing some popcorn at her friend. “We are not bleh.”

“Then what are you?” Claire asked.

“We are just us.” Robyn looked to the TV where Taron had stuck his written instructions for her. “We are just us.” She said again.

“Us who share a bed.”

This time Robyn did roll her eyes at her friend. “Yeah and you are on his side.”

“His side?” Shane looked. “He has his own side? And I am on it?”

Claire and Shane continued to tease Robyn for another little while but when Robyn had thrown all of the popcorn at her friends and they had to clean up the mess and make some more before they settled down, actually watching the TV. They stayed with her for most of Sunday before they left her alone and Robyn climbed back into bed to sleep some more.

Now mid-way through her second week off, it was the middle of the night on Wednesday and Robyn’s sleep was being disturbed which was why her mind had been thinking about her last few days. She could hear the wind and lashing rain as it beat hard against her windows. It was one of the downsides of having floor to ceiling windows, especially when the rain was falling sideways and it was disrupting her sleep. The weather hadn’t been too bad at all, nice July sunshine shining through clear blue skies and Robyn had been enjoying the lovely weather as she rested up but the higher heat of the day had resulted in a summer storm and the wind howled outside with the heavy rain that fell. Robyn buried herself deeper under her duvet, curling up, her eyes still closed as she listened to the horrible weather outside. She snuggled into cwtch, thinking about putting on her piano playlist to help her sleep but it would actually mean coming out of her warm cocoon to get to her phone and open her Spotify to then play it on her Alexa and she was too comfortable to move.

The wind battered against the windows and Robyn groaned. She had been listening to it for about half an hour now and opening one eye, lifted her head enough to peak at her clock, groaning as it only twenty past three. It was the wind that had woken her initially and then the rain started. She hit the pillow a few times with her hand, trying to find her cosy head position again. She had been sleeping the nights right through and the bad weather was keeping her awake now. It just came out of nowhere and it had been heavy and loud but suddenly seemed to have stopped as soon as it started, the torrential downpour becoming a lighter shower. She could still hear the wind though and she was so glad to be wrapped up tight in her bed.

Her head lifted when she heard a noise, putting it down to something in her garden falling over due to the wind, laying back on the pillow, pulling cwtch tight into her. A second noise which sounded very like a knock made her lift her head once more. Opening her eyes as she heard what was definitely a knock, she leant up on one elbow, a third knock making her sit up, holding cwtch against her. She reached over to turn on the bedside light, sitting still when she heard two more knocks.

Her house alarm was set but she could feel her heart racing, another knock coming, this time a louder one. She threw back the duvet and sheet, shivering a little as the slight cold of the room met her skin. It had been warm enough when she went to bed so had dressed in one of her shorts and tank top pyjama sets but her room was colder now as the weather changed during the night. On her feet, she opened the bedroom door, the rest of her home in darkness, the only light coming from the lamp in her bedroom. The knock came again and this time Robyn was sure it was unquestionably a knock.

She looked back into her bedroom, contemplating giving her dad a call to ask him to come and see who was knocking on her door but figured if someone was trying to break into her house they wouldn’t be knocking on the door and she really didn’t want to wake and worry her parents so early in the morning, especially after the scare they got with her trip to the hospital last week. She took some small and quiet steps to the front door, stalling when there was another knock followed by a voice.

“Robyn?”

Her head lifted when she heard the voice, recognising it immediately.

“Robyn?” The voice called again along with another knock.

Robyn walked closer to her door. “Taron?”

“Yeah it’s me.”

It took her three steps to get to the alarm panel and turn off the alarm, less than two seconds to turn on the light in her living room, unlock the door and open it to see Taron standing on her doorstep, dripping wet.

“Taron!?” Robyn exclaimed, beyond shocked to see her friend standing outside, his clothes stuck to him, water droplets falling from his hat and his whole face very sad and upset. “What on earth?” She reached forward to take his hand, his skin cold to touch, giving it pull. “Come inside. You will catch your death out there.”

His steps were uncertain but Robyn gave his hand a second pull, getting him in through the front door so she could then close it behind him. After she locked it again and set the alarm, she turned to Taron who stood as she had left him. Over his shoulders, he carried a backpack but it seemed to be pretty empty. She saw his body give a shiver and while she still held his left hand, felt his hand shake with the cold, also feeling the wetness on his skin from the rain that had been falling outside. Always feeling a warmth to his skin when she held his hand, she hated to feel him cold. He hadn’t spoken a word since he called her name and she lifted her left hand to cup his cheek, though it was a little hard as his face was looking down and just like his hand, his cheek was wet and cold. She lightly stroked his face with her thumb, thinking it might get some sort of a reaction from him but he didn’t move. She dropped her hand from his face and let go his hand and reaching over his shoulders, she went to take his bag off him but she felt him flinch, taking the smallest of steps backwards.

“Taron, it’s just me.” She said softly to him, placing her hands on his shoulders. “I am going to take off your bag. Is that ok?” She asked him. His nod was once and barely a nod but she took it as permission for her to go ahead. Walking behind him, she took the straps of his bag in her hands and slipped the black fabric over his shoulders and down his arms, leaving it on the floor beside the front door. She then walked around to face him. “Taron?” She asked, but his eyes were still to the ground. Her surprise at seeing him on her door step at such an hour had quickly turned to worry and concern as he wasn’t speaking to her or making any movements at all, frozen to the spot he stood on. “Taron?” She tilted her head to try and see him under his hat but his eyes were still focused on his shoes. From what she could see of his face apart from the sadness in his features, he wasn’t clean shaven and looked wrecked, dark purple shadows under his eyes. She had been talking to him on the phone just after eight that evening and he seemed in good form, chatty and laughing but now over seven hours later he was so unhappy and glum, his face so incredibly hard to read with whatever he was feeling. She was desperate to hug him but having already felt his reaction from when she went to touch him to take his bag off, didn’t want to take the chance in giving him another fright, reading enough of his rigid body language to know that he was very troubled and upset over something.

Seeing the water dripping from him onto her hardwood floors, she reached for his hand again, not feeling him close his fingers around hers as he always would. Instead, she gave his hand a tiny squeeze. “I am going to get you a towel.” Walking away from him, she grabbed a towel from her laundry room and when she was back beside him, he hadn’t moved. “I just wanna take your hat off, ok?” She asked him. When he didn’t respond, she took it off anyway, throwing it onto the breakfast bar. His hair had grown a lot and was just a little longer than the way he had his hair for when he filmed as Eggsy and while it was normally styled and gelled back, now it was messy, flattened against his forehead. She reached up to brush the longer damp strands away and Taron would usually move his head closer to her hand when she went for his hair but he stood still, not even reacting when she used her fingers to brush his hair right back from his face, smoothing it away from his eyes.

Wanting to continue to play with his hair, to see if would gage any reaction from him, she could feel him shaking with the cold he was feeling, so fluffed the towel out and draped it over his shoulders, giving his body a light rub. Even with his hat off, his eyes were still looking at the floor and his hands hung loosely by his side, the man in front of her just so miserable. “Rocketman?” She said gently to him, hoping his nickname would get a reaction but nothing. “Taron…” Her voice was quiet, a clear hint of desperation as she spoke to him. “Please tell me you are not hurt.”

His head moved a little and he looked to her. His licked his lips and gave her a single nod. “I am not hurt.” He answered her in a whisper.

“Are you ok?” Robyn asked him taking his right hand in her two as she stood at his side.

His head shook from side to side this time. “I just need…” He caught her eyes and swallowed, blinking a few times. “Just stay with me.” He said in a murmur, his eyes quickly going back to his sodden shoes.

“I am not going anywhere.” Robyn said firmly to him, lifting her hand to his cheek and cupping his face more forcefully than she meant to but she felt him finally lean into her hand. “I am right here for you, always.” She took her hand from his face and as he let his head fall to his chest again, Robyn started to rub the towel over his shoulders and back. While her blue fluffy towel was a quick fix to soak up some of the water from the rain he had been drenched in, it would not be enough to get him dry and his wet jumper was probably soaked through to whatever top he had on underneath. “Taron, can I take off your hoodie?” She asked him, seeing him nod. She took the towel off him and flung it onto the breakfast bar. Stepping around to stand in front of him, she zipped open his hoodie, sliding it off him and again throwing it onto her breakfast bar. Once she had rid him of his hoodie, she grabbed the towel and wrapped it around him. His t-shirt was wet but not as wet as his hoodie had been but looking to his trousers, she knew he needed a full change of clothes, a dry towel around his body was not going to be enough to get him warmed up. She slipped her hands under the towel and started to rub up and down his bare arms, hoping to create some heat for him. He had yet to object to anything she was doing for him and she kept rubbing his arms. “Taron?” She asked. “What happened?” She moved her hands down his wrists to take his hands. “Why and how are you here?”

Taron heard her questions but was concentrating on the warmth he felt from her hands in his and lifting his head, caught her eyes for a moment. “Just not…” His words came out slightly choked and he started again. “Not now. Please.”

“Ok, ok.” Robyn let go his hands and lifted her hands to his face again. “Ok. That’s ok. We don’t have to talk about it.” She stood up on her toes and gave his nose a light kiss, then stood a little taller to kiss his forehead too. “When you can.” She saw him try to smile but it was the most unconvincing once she had seen from him. “You are frozen through Taron. You need to get out of this clothes rocketman. You will get sick if you don’t change.” She didn’t get an answer from him so took his hand and started to walk, feeling him following her without question.

Taron was numb from the cold but also how he was feeling and felt himself being led by Robyn through her laundry room and into the bathroom, his eyes hurting as she turned on the light. He was left alone for a brief moment when Robyn went to get his bag and she came back with it in her hands. He nodded his permission when she asked if she could look through it and watched her pull out the few bits he had packed.

Robyn looked through his things trying to find something for him to change into but wasn’t having much luck. She had set aside a t-shirt and some boxers both a little damp from the rain, taking out his wash bag and placing it to the side of her sink but as she emptied the last bits from his bag all that was left was a protein bar and his phone charger. “Just a short stay then?” She asked with a light chuckle but Taron didn’t even move at her joke, the towel that was around his shoulders, now half falling off.

She dug again in his bag to make sure she had fully emptied it and at the very bottom she found two pieces of paper. “What’s this?” She asked him, seeing him look away when he heard the crumble of paper. She opened one up, her writing and the words “Time for a Robyn cuddle” staring back at her, the second page reading “Run a bath”. Robyn looked to Taron who was once again staring at his shoes. Two pages from the voucher book she had given him as a Christmas present were torn out and shoved into his bag along with the bare minimum he needed for a visit.

She left the pages on his wash bag and walked back over to him and stood in front of him. “Taron?” She placed her hands on his cheeks and made him lift his head and he finally properly met her eyes. His eyes clearly were so sad, beautiful green orbs heartbroken over something. She could always read him, always had been able to and now found it so hard to not know what he was thinking, why he was upset, why he was in her home.

She lightly rubbed his cheeks and then took her hands from his face and not being able to stop herself from offering him some sort of comfort, wrapped her arms around his shoulders, the towel finally falling to the tiled bathroom floor and stepped into him to give him a hug. She immediately shivered herself when his cold body pressed against her warm one and it took him a good thirty seconds before he lifted his arms to return the hug, immediately squeezing himself tight against her and he lifted her from her feet for a moment before setting her down and gripping her right into him.

Robyn was always warm to Taron. Since he had met her, she was warm and comforting and knew the right way to rub the back of his neck, to bring him down from whatever emotional high he was feeling and right now she was doing everything he needed her to do, everything he knew she would do for him and that was why he had come to her. Because he knew she would know how to give him the comfort he needed with hesitation or judgement. He didn’t have to say a word to her but assure her he wasn’t hurt, which he wasn’t and answer her question when she asked if he was ok, which he also wasn’t right at that moment but Robyn didn’t push him any further to talk and now as she held him in her arms, he felt safe and loved. It did take him a little while to actually return the hug but once he did, he curled his arms right around her, resting his cheek on her bare shoulder, the warmth on her skin soaking into his immediately, his eyes focusing on the freckles on the back of her shoulder before he closed his tired eyes and nuzzled his nose into her skin.

When the arrangement was made to reshoot the underwater scenes the previous week, Taron naturally felt a little tense, but the whole way back to Belfast very early that morning for the re-shoots, he had been a nervous wreck. It was only going to be about a twelve hour shoot as Matthew assured his crew and the cast that he had most of what he needed except for some nitty gritty bits which they never got to film the last time but that information hadn’t made the journey any easier on Taron. The plan had been to get a quick flight from London to Belfast early-morning, straight to set, film and then a flight back the following morning and it was a solid plan. It was the reason why he had packed so little in his backpack. A clean t-shirt and pair of boxers, his wash bag and phone charger. All he needed for a flying visit back to the leisure centre and the swimming pool but even with the short time he was needed for filming, he really had not been looking forward to it at all.

There was one other thing that was making his return visit to Belfast that bit harder and that was the fact that Robyn had asked him not to tell her when he was re-shooting his underwater scenes and he had kept her promise to her. She had been adamant she didn’t want to know, the accident under the water enough for her to never want to know about any stunt he had to take part in again and that included even the simple hand to hand combat he could do with his eyes closed. But he was so used to Robyn knowing his filming schedule, having that extra bit of support there if he needed to rant or a chat that not having her help talk him down was hard to get used to when she had become such an important friend to him over the last year. He had called his mam and she was amazing as always but he had missed the ease Robyn put him at just by simply chatting with her about the stupidest of things and walking onto the set without her knowing he was only two hours away from her was difficult. When he had called her from his trailer to check up on how she was, he acted his arse off to be happy and upbeat for her, pretending everyone was just fine in London but it had been so hard. Usually he would talk to Robyn about a tricky scene coming up, or any nerves he was feeling but this time he couldn’t say a word to her because he knew she would worry something shocking about him after what happened last time.

When he travelled for his re-shoots that morning, he was doing his best to think of what Robyn would say to him about how he was feeling. He knew she would tell him he wasn’t being stupid and his emotions were not to be thrown to the side, his concerns very valid, to talk to Matthew. He had done all those things but still felt sick to his stomach as the car dropped him off at his trailer just before lunch. He hated lying to Robyn but after her tough few days, he was already worried about her and didn’t want her to be worrying about him, sending her recovery backwards and she had been doing so well, and during every phone call they had she sounded more like herself and he loved hearing her play piano in the videos she had sent him as he sat in the airport that morning. They had helped distract him for a moment as did her phone call in-between scenes but they hadn’t been enough to take his mind from the water work which he hadn’t even started yet. While he had told everyone around him, he was ready to get back into the water, he had horrible nightmares for two nights before he flew to Belfast and his mam had talked him out of a slight anxiety attack in his trailer about an hour before he had to leave for set and he knew he was actually probably nowhere near ready to go back to film but he didn’t want to let anyone down. It was twelve hours on set and he could get through twelve hours.

Keeping how he felt from Robyn from her made him feel guilty but he promised and even though he had naturally called her with his daily check-up, as he had been doing over the last few days, he never told her how close he was to her, what he was doing. He wouldn’t do that to her after he promised.

When he arrived on the very familiar set just before lunch time, a lunch which he avoided in the catering tent, he had tried to shake the nerves off, focusing on some scenes on the side of the pool Matthew wanted to re-shoot outside of the pool. Then after dinner, not that he ate anything and again stayed clear of the catering tent, Matthew gave him as much time as he could in his trailer to compose himself. He had changed into his wetsuit and suit, minus a belt thanks to Stephanie, who also walked him to the pool, keeping their arms linked the whole way. He had sat on the edge of the pool with his legs in the water for a long time, taking deep breathes, mentally prepping himself before he fully submerged himself, reaching for the regulator and oxygen immediately from the diver. He was a bag of nerves during the whole filming process, swimming up himself at one point before Matthew had called for the end of the scene, holding onto the edge of the pool in a slight panic.

After a half an hour break, he had assured Matthew he was ok to keep going but as the scene became more intense and Gabriel had him pushed up against the broken set at the bottom of the pool, memories of getting caught on it flashed through his mind and panic once again set in and he was helped by the divers to the surface, coughing and spluttering, gasping for breath, dragged from the pool by the crew and given a paper bag to breathe into until he had managed to calm himself down, Lucy sitting in front of him with her hands on her knees, gently talking to him the whole time, while Stephanie wrapped him up in a towel.

“We are done.” Matthew called out around the dark set, pushing Taron back into a sitting position when he went to stand up in protest. “Done. I got enough.”

“We never finished the scene.” Taron objected as he took the bag away from his mouth and nose.

“Believe me I got enough.” Matthew said again. “We are finished here.” He crouched down to Taron and placed his hands on his shoulders. “We have a few days to spare. Go and see Robyn.”

Taron had tried to challenge his director but Matthew insisted and organised the lift for him to get to Robyn’s home, even giving Lyndsey a call to ask her to change his flight for Monday, instead of a few hours so he could just get away from the set, from filming and be with someone Matthew knew he needed to be with right then. After Taron had changed out of the wetsuit and clothes from the scene, had a quick check over by Lucy, Matthew had shoved him into the car when he tried to tell his director he was ok, the older man was having none of it.

“Get in the car now before I actually force you in.” Matthew growled at him. “You are going to go and see Robyn and you are going to talk to her about whatever it is you need to talk about and I will be calling herself myself to talk to her to double check you have spoken to her.”

It was the threat of Matthew calling Robyn that had Taron in the car in seconds, slightly rolling his eyes as Matthew threw his bag at him, ordering him to go and see Robyn again, making sure he kept the paper bag with him just in case he needed it. Taron tried to get out of the car once more but Matthew slammed the door hard.

“You are going to see her.” He said firmly through the driver’s window into the back of the car. “We have some time and it will do everyone good to have a few days break. Come back to set on Tuesday and we will keep going. I will email you through my plans for the last few weeks.”

Taron had no choice but to stay in the car as it drove off, holding his bag to his chest. It took him about fifteen minutes before he moved to put his seat belt on and then pulled his phone out to check the time. It was just coming up to two in the morning. It felt like he had been on set for days never mind hours and leaning his head against the window, he closed his eyes but opened them again very quickly as all he could see was water and bubbles, feeling his heart racing, his body starting to shake.

He thought he was going to be ok. He had had accidents on set before, big and small incidents and he got straight back into it. Hell, he had technically died on the floor of the 7/11 and managed to move on but this time, everything just hurt and stung and it was horrible. He couldn’t shake off the feeling of like he was underwater. His head was fuzzy, he had a dull headache behind his eyes and his hands wouldn’t stop shaking. He was trying to think positive, to focus on that he was ok, the scene was done and there would be no more water work but he was still left with this deepening sense of fear, of frightening imagines every time he closed his eyes, feeling his chest tighten with each deep breath he took. He found himself reaching for the brown paper bag to breathe into, seeing the driver look at him as he tried to calm himself down. When the bag ripped, he bent over, placing his head on his knees, digging his nails into the palm of his hands, concentrating on the sting on his hands, finally feeling his breathing relax after a constant round of breathing in through his nose and out of his mouth.

When he sat up, he started to sing through a number of Bowie songs to keep his mind distracted but as he was brought to Kilcreen, Taron’s legs hadn’t stopped shaking, his mind over thinking more than usual and now that he was on his way to Robyn, he desperately needed a hug and a chat, a cuddle and someone just holding him telling him he was going to be ok. As he came into the town, he recognised the canal thanks to the street lights and he had asked the driver to stop at the bus stop by the canal, insisting on getting out of the car, telling the driver he would be absolutely fine with walking the rest of the way even though it was the middle of the night.

“Matthew told me to drop you at Robyn’s house Taron.”

“Matthew doesn’t need to know a thing.” Taron called back as he walked, keeping his head down as he swung his bag over his shoulders, pulling his hat onto his head. He needed the walk to try and clear his head before he got to Robyn’s, trying to think of what he was going to say to her, how he definitely needed to apologise for not telling her he was in Belfast though he was following her specific instructions. He wanted to have some sort of speech prepared for her, to try to explain to her what he was feeling, how chaotic his mind was, how he was suddenly terrified of going near a swimming pool again. It was as he watched the black car drive away and over the bridge that the rain started and he had wrapped his arms around himself but he was quickly soaked through by heavy rainfall, the wind blowing sideways around him. He walked as fast as he could towards Robyn’s home, towards his second place of sanctuary after Aberystwyth. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket of his jeans as he felt the rain ease and routing through the mix of currency he had, he found two pages from the voucher book Robyn had given him for Christmas. He always kept some of his vouchers in his wallet just in case and as he shoved them deep into his bag, knew they were there if he needed them. They were two he absolutely wanted to take advantage of while he was with Robyn and she had told him he could use his vouchers whenever he wanted so hoped she would let him use them both.

It when he reached Robyn’s front door, he wished he hadn’t gotten out of the car and had it drive him the whole way to her home. The walk had done nothing to think through his thoughts, the torrential rain shower soaking him through and as he stood in front of her door, swallowed back some tears and the lump in his throat, thinking what a waste the walk had been when he was still as upset and confused as when he left set. Only now he was also worried that he was going to scare Robyn with knocking on her door. While he knew where the key was and what the code was, he wouldn’t do that to her, just letting himself in so took to knocking, hoping she heard it and she did.

And as always, Robyn took him in and didn’t question him except to make sure he wasn’t hurt and now as he stood in her arms, he felt safe and little more calm and hugged her hard against him, his face slipping deeper into her neck. He had felt her rubbing his arms, talking to him so softly, running her fingers through his hair and taking care of him just as she always did after he walked in the door and while he was sure the cold from his body was causing her to shiver, her grip on him was so tight and when usually she would always rub his back and his neck, now she was just holding him and it was what he had needed all day.

“Shh Taron, it’s ok.” Robyn softly cooed into his ear. When Taron had eventually lifted to fit his arms around her, it felt like he was holding onto her for dear life, like if he let her go, he would crumble to the floor so Robyn wrapped her arms around his back as tightly as she could, not caring that she was getting wet from him. “Whatever it is, it will be ok. It always is.”

When her hand slipped into the hair at the back of his neck, Taron sighed into her shoulder. “Thank you.” He whispered through another sigh.

Robyn didn’t reply to him but started to slowly scratch his head. In the same way that he knew how to calm her down, how to help her when she was feeling at her lowest, she hoped she was helping him and as she stood hugging him, she could slowly feel his racing heart beating in time with hers, his breathing evening out and his rigid body relax. She couldn’t say how long it would take, how long they would have to stand in the bathroom but she wasn’t going to move until she felt he was read

[sad-writers]

glancing up, reaching down

my mother is angry at the traffic jam on the street- its a homeless man who got hit while trying to cross the road. The person who hit him had just glanced over him like he was already gone. Tonight, his candlelight vigil is comprised of blinking red tail lights and his gospel song a wailing siren. sometimes a person's whole life is worth fifteen minutes of delay and someone who will throw their hands up in exasperation and ask, “What is it this time?” 

Yes, up is the direction we all tend to glance. Maybe someone looks skyward and sees god but I spent my whole life in city and I can’t see the heavens through all the smog. the only figures i know capable of causing world ending floods and life saving miracles are the ones who hold conference meetings at the top of the buildings i drive past on the way to school. After all, they offer the same promise: a splendid routine. Predictability, efficiency, calculability, control. “God” is at the top of a building reassuring you. Don’t worry, there is a place for you, preternaturally assigned based upon your actions, your worthiness. Oh, sorry, worth. A dead man in the road is just an obstacle on the stairway to heaven

The billionaires will chase comet tails but I know the divinity I'm looking for is in the ground. Two months ago I held Lucy’s plastic skull in my hands and stared her in her empty eyes and saw the cosmic dust that sparked the long line of coincidences and butterfly wing flaps that became our reality. Did you know that we left africa twice? The first time we failed and yet the second time we lived. history likes to tell a linear story (a winners story), like the hominins all got in lanes divided by broken white lines and coasted. In that tale, no one crosses the road when they aren’t supposed to and we proceed cleanly to our great modern society. 

And yet Lucy left africa, even though she was never meant to and the best part is that she went home too. She went home but by sheer love and adoration, her head was in my hands, and the plastic was warm because someone else had held her just before. She wasn’t one of us but she is loved all the same.

My roommate whispers to me in the lecture hall, “I'm not supposed to be here,” and yet here you are! You ought to thank Lucy! She is winking at you- her other name has stretched its hand across the binding ties of time to place itself on your shoulder to give you her own promise: “you are marvelous!” the bones in the earth love you more than the buildings ever will

Maybe god is in the sky but everything we love we eventually put in the ground.

[theultimatefan]

American Association Hires Chris Browne As Vice President-Sponsorships

The American Association of Professional Baseball has named Chris Browne as, Vice President of Sponsorships.  Browne brings more than 30 years of experience in professional sports, including 23 years as an executive in baseball.  

In his role, Browne will handle sponsorship services for the league, coordinate sponsor related jewel events including the All-Star Game, the Miles Wolff Cup, and Baseball Champions League in addition to other leaguewide initiatives.  

“Chris Browne brings to the American Association a long history in sports business.  Specifically, his ideas around activation and relationship building will provide the American Association with an accretive element beneficial to our sponsors,” said Joshua Schaub, American Association Commissioner.

Browne previously spent twelve years as Vice President and General Manager of the Kansas City Monarchs predecessor brand, the Kansas City T-Bones, during 2008-2020.  Under his leadership, the club was twice named Organization of the Year and appeared in two league championship series, winning the Miles Wolff Cup in 2018.  Browne was also recognized by the Kansas City Kansas Convention and Visitors Bureau with the 2011 Excellence in Hospitality Award and named Tourism Advocate of the Year in 2015.  

In 2019, Browne was named as the Kansas City Sports Executive of the Year by the Kansas City Sports Commission.  The prestigious award had previously been given to Kansas City Chiefs CEO/Owner Clark Hunt and Kansas City Royals VP/GM Dayton Moore.  

Most recently, Browne led Perfect Game USA’s Midwest operation in Kansas City.  

“I am thrilled to join the American Association office and their dynamic leadership team led by Commissioner Josh Schaub and Deputy Commissioner, Josh Buchholz.  I look forward to working with our staff, partners, and member clubs,” said Chris Browne.

A native of Kansas City, Browne started his career working as a Clubhouse Attendant and Bat Boy for seven years for the Kansas City Royals, including the 1985 World Champion season.  After completing his degree with an emphasis in Sports Management from the University of Missouri, Browne worked as an executive for the Class AA Jacksonville Suns (now Jumbo Shrimp) and was Assistant General Manager for Major Arena Soccer League’s Kansas City Comets.  

Browne resides in Lenexa, KS with his wife Becky, son Brett and daughter (Pee Wee) Reese.