#what else should I tag this with? I know Swift's life could be triggering

[bonefall]

So I decided to read through Bramblestar's leader ceremony from the original Ultimate Guide today- and I had a thought: have you chosen what cats give him his lives in Better Bones already? Granted, I'm sure you'll gut some of the canon placements for not knowing him in life (Lionheart) or being alive by the time he becomes leader (Goldenflower, Ferncloud, Mousefur) but Bluestar imparting clear judgement is a fun virtue considering his actions are anything but. Plus, Jayfeather could always gripe about it when he argues with Bramblestar. 'Wow Bramblestar, you sure displayed clear judgement when you asked me to let Sunrise BLEED OUT IN CAMP!'

I hadn't picked yet actually! I also haven't read his leader ceremony in aaaages. I never really liked it, felt full of TPB fanservice and didn't really say a lot about Bramblestar as a leader.

(But tbf that is probably because the writers have no idea what they're doing with him. He's generically noble and they have a double standard against female characters, so they just use his man pain to make the girls in his life feel wretched without examining WHY having defiant women in his life bruises his ego so easily)

But anyway, I don't have a FINALIZED thing yet, but here's a rough draft. It's a total overhaul. A big difference in BB and Canon is that Bramblestar is leader BEFORE the reveal, and long before the Battle of the True Eclipse. So all of these picks have to be from Po3 and before.

(BB context: Firestar was killed offscreen during the Fire Scene in an assassination, Ashfur took advantage of the situation to attack the Three. It was an arson set by Whiskernose and carried out by Thornclaw, Breezepelt, and possibly Harespring. Ashfur is still on the run, suspected of killing Firestar to hurt Squilf because he failed to hurt her kits)

(also if you want FULL full context go look at BB!Hollyleaf's character summary)

Gorseclaw -- Righteousness. His progenitor ancestor who set history into motion by betraying his siblings during Ripplestar's Rot, and whose curse continues down through the generations. He tells him he's proud. He SEES how much he's struggled. He's had to make hard choices that everyone else thought would be easy, and he understands. But he's done the right thing... and he tells him to keep doing it. Bramble briefly feels hot with shame-- did he really have so many ancestors in the Dark Forest that he had to hear from someone so ancient? Tigerstar, Pinestar, Oakstar... this life unsettles him and sets the tone for the rest of the ceremony

Snowcarve (Snowkit) -- Opportunity. The last time Brambleclaw saw his little uncle, he was carried off by a hawk after shoving one of them out of the way. He stands as a proud, starry adult before him: the age he would have been. He "speaks" through unfamiliar glyphs that form beside his head, and Brambleclaw knows somehow that this is the writing that he had been working on before his death. Snowcarve commands that he watch for that which he would have missed, to listen to those who are different and have new ideas, for opportunity is silent and tender. If your mind and heart are closed to what could have been, you will miss your chance and never know what you could have had. Brambleclaw tries to bring up that he's sorry he didn't save him-- Snowcarve taps his ear and shakes his head, giving him a stern glare. The words say, "you did not need forgiveness. It was my choice and I have never regretted it." In fact, he can wave his tail and welcome the next life;

Yellowfang -- Judgement. She asks him, "Would you ever blame a kitten for what someone else did?" Bramble is confused, "Of course not?" "Then stop blaming yourself for what others have done for you. I ran back into that fire to save my herbs and leeches. I put myself there, and Firestar knew that. Stop confusing blame for experience, guilt is not wisdom, pain is not good judgement."

Feathertail -- Kindness. A little bit of understanding goes a long way. When you get wrapped up in your anger, or your fear, slow down and consider the feelings and intentions of others. You'll find that most people are good. (He accepts the life but stops himself from arguing with her-- ok, sure, but what about everyone who isn't? He has a bit of a thought spiral wondering if the wise cat he'd travelled with had changed or if she was ever wise at all)

(Idk which elder is dying in Po3 yet, if it's Frostfur or Mousefur, but one of them gives a life) -- Confidence. There was a time where their own judgement lapsed, and they pinned their anger on him. They apologize for it, and tell him that this life is for living in spite of that. The strength to mind that you can't control what other people think of you, and the firmness to commit to what he believes is right.

Brackenfur -- Negotiation. To remember that every action sends a message, to understand that you must remain calm and make the right concessions to accomplish greater things. Don't let emotions like anger, offense, and spite cause you to ruin something you may have worked hard to build. (Brambleclaw is by the halfway point totally missing the point that these cats are trying to teach him nuance and mindfulness, and mostly feels betrayed and confused. He knows most of these things... and did the elder not just tell him to have confidence in himself in spite of people who hate him?)

Speckletail -- Courage. When everyone runs away, you run TOWARDS. People will rely on you now, and StarClan will give you the power to protect them. No storm, no beast, and no tyrant will find its way through you. When he takes the life he feels the rage and FEAR she did when she ran towards the bulldozer, the pride in her power as she attacked the human, and learns that Thornclaw was wrong when he told them she looked satisfied on the way down. After kicking him out she was terrified, but overwhelmed by relief and LOVE that her grandson was safe. It makes him collapse, and as he gets back up he's in tears, asking "i thought this was a life for courage, you were afraid!!" And Speckletail puffs her chest up proudly, "Courage is being terrified and doing it anyway."

Swiftpaw -- Acceptance. He has no warrior name. He has no adult form. When Brambleclaw asks him for his title, he simply says, "I give you this life to know when to accept what you cannot change, and the wisdom to see what you can't control." Brambleclaw can't help himself, this ceremony has been a horrible experience, "what a terrible life!" Swiftpaw dips his head solemnly, "yet without it, what a terrible death." But Swiftpaw also reminds him, this is not a part of his life that he cannot change. He can move on with only eight lives, and he will understand. But Brambleclaw says no, "I have a clan to protect. This is one of the things I can't control." He is surprised by how soothing the life is when he gets it though. He doesn't feel any of Swiftpaw's pain as he died. It's not about that. It's the quiet embrace of the void, the shouting as the patrol finds him and Brightpaw, falling away into silence, accepting that he is dying, and that it's okay to let go.

Firestar -- Trust. It HAS to come at the end.

Firestar opens up by asking Brambleclaw what's wrong, seeing how exhausted he is. He responds, his voice trembling, "I hoped it would be reassuring, but I feel more lost and powerless than ever. How can I be responsible for so many people? How will I protect them all? I will be blamed for everything that goes wrong and never know if I made the right choice!" Firestar goes hm, genuinely and sympthetically, "Those are very heavy and legitimate doubts for a new leader to have. I felt the same things when I was in your paws. He waves his tail, "So, I will give you the value that it took me many years to learn, something you were not given and so feel you cannot give. With this life I give you TRUST. You will face many trials in the near future, Brambleclaw. Your truth will crumble. Secrets will be revealed, friends will turn out to be foes, those you think are enemies may be allies, but you must not lose the ability to find the good in all of them. Remember that trust is a choice and an honor. Apply it wisely, but bestow it generously."

Bitterly, but with what dignity he can have in this situation, Bramblestar murmurs sadly, "So there will be betrayal, but I must still trust? I had hoped that you, of all ancestors, would not speak in riddles"

Though the world is blurring and the spirits of StarClan are fading away, he catches something pained and complex in Firestar's expression. Like he has so much to say, doesn't have the exact words to express it, and he's running out of time to find them.

"There were no riddles," he shouts already sounding far away, "Listen to what we have told you and you will find the way!"

(Basically he's shouting "WE WERE VERY STRAIGHTFORWARD ACTUALLY!!!")

We wouldn't get to see this happen in Cruel Season though, since it would be offscreen and not important to the plot of that book. I'd rather get it into Bramblestar's Thorns, which is about Alderheart, Sparkpelt, and the ways that they've been impacted by him as a toxic father.

The ceremony is written to highlight his major flaws. Especially the way that he's bursting with doubt, pain, and immediately tends to make things about himself without realizing. Bramblestar is a very unhappy person, and he often extends that misery to other people.

he's a tragedy to me, man. All these people turning out to tell him that love and faith exists for him and he can't even see it.

Anyway, bonus, some other thoughts for possible lives; (still possible some of these guys get swapped out)

Lionheart, his uncle, who died before he was born. He'd give a good life for wisdom but I think these others are a lot stronger.

Birchface, one of his Tigerkin ancestors in StarClan. Decided against him in favor of Gorseclaw; I think Gorse's both more interesting AND his distance is a good point of doubt for Bramble. They had to go back 4 generations to find a direct ancestor who isn't damned to hell. Birch would have just waffled about admitting mistakes anyway, still too fearful to admit that he is responsible for getting Frecklewish and Oakstar damned.

Bluestar, a leader who contributed to the death of his brother and mistrusted him when he was young... but honestly I feel she is kinda irrelevant. He didn't know her well.

Elderberry, one of his apprenticehood friends and the twin of Ferncloud/older sister of Ashfur. It could be cool for her to give a life of mercy and ask him to be rational about Ashfur's crimes (starclan won't say outright that Ashfur didn't do it because they're not entirely sure he was uninvolved until after his death in a few chapters, Dark Forest influence hiding the assassins), but it's actually a lot more important that StarClan is trying to warn him about the LEADER he will be and fatal flaws he will display for arcs and arcs, not waste a life on teasing the plot of a single book.

Cinderpelt, his cousin who died tragically. There's no reincarnation thing so she could be here to give a life, but I think the current list is a lot stronger.

Lynxkit, his oldest sister. Strongly considered her for acceptance but I think Swiftpaw's WAAAY stronger and I don't need both of them.

[jbbarnesnnoble]

JBBarnesNNoble's 2nd Annual Mental Health Awareness Month Challenge 2021

Hello lovely people! And welcome to the 2nd Annual Mental Health Awareness Month Writing Challenge. The aim of this challenge is to shine a light on mental health, medical conditions, and the things that can have impacts on us. This started out initially being a PCOS Awareness challenge last year but through conversations with other writers over Discord, it evolved into a Mental Health Awareness Month Writing Challenge last year. I’m reusing some of the unused prompts from last year’s challenge and adding in some new ones!

May is Mental Health Awareness Month. The goal of this challenge is to lift each other up, and show that it’s okay not to be okay. Spread some love and light during a challenging time in the world to those who struggle with chronic illness, depression, anxiety, self-esteem issues, grief, PCOS, acceptance from their families and communities for being LGBT+, and anyone struggling with insecurity.

This challenge will run through July 31st, 2021. It will run through Mental Health Awareness Month, Pride Month, and the month of July to give people time to write. You can submit it at any time. I probably have too many prompts, but I wanted to ensure that there was a wide array to choose from. Please don’t hesitate to message me if I haven’t interacted with your fic after a few days! Sometimes the tag system doesn’t work and I miss things!

The Rules:

1. Utilize resources available online if you’re dealing with subject matter you’re not that familiar with. I’m not going to go all “cite sources” on y’all, but please do make sure to do your research. Writing about some of these issues can be hard if you don’t have first hand knowledge of how it can affect you. The goal of this challenge is to write about topics that we tend to shy away from, that many of us struggle with, from mental health struggles to chronic illnesses to low-self esteem. A gentle reminder that if you think writing about a subject will be triggering for you, please look after yourself first.

2. Use #JBBNNMHAM21 to tag your fic

3. Dark!Fic- Due to the subject matter involved in this challenge, please don’t submit dark!fic. I enjoy dark fics, but this challenge isn’t the place for them.

4. Smut- Smut is welcome! Make sure you tag it appropriately.

5. No inc*st, dubcon/noncon, underage, etc

6. Ships- I prefer reader inserts, but show me what ya got.

7. NO JOHN WALKER FICS. Please. Please no. I beg of you.

8. Selecting Prompts: Just let me know which one you want to do! 2 people per prompt! The song prompts have a line from them under it. You DO NOT need to use the line in your submission! It’s mostly to help you decide if you’re interested in a song before you take a listen to it.

You also can alter the sentence and dialogue prompts as needed for grammar, be it altering the pronouns used or changing the pluralization of a word.

9. Trigger Warnings: Use warnings as needed. Fics dealing with depression, anxiety, eating disorders, or other mental health issues should be tagged appropriately to ensure that readers that may be triggered by the subject matter can avoid the fic. Trigger warnings are non-negotiable

The prompts are under the cut!

Prompts:

Dialogue Prompts:

“I feel like if I let go, if I move on, I’ll only be proving them right.”

“I don’t know. Am I? Because from where I’m standing it’s pretty damn clear that’s how you see me.”

“You don’t believe that do you? Tell me you don’t. Please.”

“It’d probably be easier if you left”

“Please leave me alone”

“Everyone’s got broken pieces. Some have more, some have less. It doesn’t make you less of a person to have those broken pieces.” @nekoannie-chan

“If it’s okay with you, I’ll take that shake now.”

“What’s the point if I’m going to end up breaking that promise too?”

“You sure about that, moonman?”

“It made you smile though. And that will always be a win in my book.”

“That’s not true. And I will tell you that every day of your life until you believe me.”

Sentence Prompts:

Feel free to adjust the pronouns as needed

It was a day. It was the only way it could be described.

Summer had a smell that reminded her of innocence and a time long since past.

In that moment, the world stopped spinning on its axis as it all shattered down around her.

Some things, there would never be a way to understand. @justrunamok

Like shattered glass, in that moment the illusion was broken.

Forever was a lie, just like everything else.

If you had another condescending doctor tell you your problem wasn’t a problem you were going to scream.

They’d say it was easy, like riding a bike. Except, you never learned how to ride a bike in the first place.

Today was going to be good. It had to be.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that this was going south.

AU and Trope Prompts:

Soulmate @samsgoddess

College

Childhood Friends @tellmealovestory

Friends to Lovers

Enemies to Lovers

Musicians

Writer

Professional Athlete

Teacher

Coffee Shop

Fake Dating

Accidental Marriage

Royal

Librarian

Doctor

Song Prompts:

1. Nobody Ever Told You - Carrie Underwood

Lyric Snippet: “Wish you could see yourself the way I do. Nobody ever told you, nobody ever told you. Shine like a diamond, glitter like gold, and you need to know what nobody ever told you”

2. Missing You - All Time Low

Lyric Snippet: “And if you need a friend, I’ll help you stitch up your wounds. I heard that you’ve been, having some trouble finding your place in the world. I know how much that hurts. But if you need a friend, then please just say the word.”

3. Barefoot and Bruised - Jamestown Story

Lyric Snippet: “Maybe when your sky comes crashing down, I can be your angel on the ground. If you get tired and can’t go on, I will carry you along, when the rocks below your feet wear out your shoes, when you’re barefoot and bruised”

4. Hold On Till May- Pierce the Veil

Lyric Snippet: “If were you, I’d put that away. See you’re just wasted and thinking about the past again. Darling, you’ll be okay.”

5. If I Surrender - Citizen Soldier

Lyric Snippet: “If I surrender, surrender, to the monsters in me, will it set me free?”

6. Home - Machine Gun Kelly, X Ambassadors, Beba Rexha

Lyric Snippet: “All these miles, feet, inches, they can’t add up to the distance that I have been through just to get to a place where even if there’s no closure I’m still safe. I still ache from trying to keep pace. Somebody give me a sign, I’m starting to lose faith”

7. Broken Arrows - Daughtry

Lyric Snippet: “The best of intentions I lay at your feet. And I need you to see past the worst part of me.”

8. Used - Serious Matters

Lyric Snippet: “The wounds are gone and the pain still lingers. But this time I won’t stand by, I don’t need you in my life”

9. According to You - Orianthi

Lyric Snippet: “According to you, I’m stupid, I’m useless, I can’t do anything right”

10. Let It Land - Tonight Alive

Lyric Snippet: “And everything we hate is something we just bought along the line”

11. Cold As You - Taylor Swift

Lyric Snippet: “You put up walls and paint them all a shade of grey. And I stood there loving you and wished them all away. And you come away with a great little story, of a mess of a dreamer with the nerve to adore you”

12. Tied Together with a Smile - Taylor Swift

Lyric Snippet: “Hold on, baby you’re losing it. The water’s high, you’re jumping into it, and letting go, and no one knows. That you cry but you don’t tell anyone that you might not be the golden one. And you’re tied together with a smile, but you’re coming undone.”

13. Human Interaction - Tonight Alive

Lyric Snippet: “I don’t know love. I don’t know hate. I am numb. Wish I could find the words to say. Asking please, as colors fade. I need to breathe. Before I turn the world to grey.”

14. Therapy - All Time Low

Lyric Snippet: “Give me therapy, I’m a walking travesty, but I’m smiling at everything. Therapy you were never a friend to me, and you can keep all your misery”

15. Scars - Alison Iraheta

Lyric Snippet: “Do you know how hard I’ve tried to become what you want me to be. Take me, this is all that I’ve got, this is all that I’m not, all that I’ll ever be. I got flaws, I got faults, keep searching for your perfect heart. It doesn’t matter who you are, we’ve all got our scars”

16. Hurts to Know - 1551

Lyric Snippet: “I can’t remember what I did to earn you by my side. I can’t surrender. I’ll fight as long as you’re in my life”

17. Spinning Bottles - Carrie Underwood

Lyric Snippet: “He’s in a hotel room, with the tv on. Getting lost in the static with the curtains drawn, knowing this could be the time that gets her gone for good, he’d quit if he could. But one down, two down, three down, four, can’t even recognize the man in the mirror anymore”

18. Praying - Kesha

Lyric Snippet: “Well you were wrong and now the best is yet to come. ‘Cause I can make it on my own. And I don’t need you, I found a strength I’ve never known.”

19. Jersey On the Wall (I’m Just Asking) - Tenille Townes

Lyric Snippet: “If I ever get to heaven, you know I got a long list of questions. Like how do you make a snowflake, are you angry when the earth quakes? How does the sky change in a minutes, how do you keep this big rock spinning? Why can’t you stop a car from crashing? Forgive me, I’m just asking”

20. Five More Minutes - Scotty McCreery

Lyric Snippet: “Time rolls by, the clock don’t stop. I wish I had a few more drops of the good stuff, the good times. Oh, but they just keep on flying right on by like it ain’t nothing, wish I had me a, a pause button. Moments like those, Lord knows I’d hit it. Give myself five more minutes”

21. Dad’s Old Number - Cole Swindell

Lyric Snippet: “Sometimes I forget, these ten digits ain’t my lifeline anymore. Every now and then I dial them up when life gets tough or when the Braves score. Sorry about the one ring hang ups, early morning and late night wake ups. It was just me. In case you wondered, you’ve got dad’s old number.”

22. The Other Side - Lauren Alaina

Lyric Snippet: “There’s gonna be a lot of sadness on a lot of happy days, I’ll try to think of this moment, this place”

23. I Was Here - Beyonce

Lyric Snippet: “So they won’t forget I was here. I lived. I loved. I was here. I did, I’ve done, everything that I wanted and it was more than I thought it would be. I will leave my mark so everyone will know I was here.”

24. Gone Too Soon - Simple Plan

Lyric Snippet: “Like a shooting star, flying across the room. So fast, so far, you were gone too soon. You’re a part of me. And I’ll never be the same here without you. You were gone too soon.”

25. Amelia - Tonight Alive

Lyric Snippet: “And you will always be perfect, you’ll always be beautiful, our hearts, will never forget you. You didn’t belong here, and it’s become so clear why heaven called your name.”

26. Heaven Right Now - Thomas Rhett

Lyric Snippet: “When the whole crew gets together, memory lane goes on forever. We twist a top and pour a little Jack D out.”

[demivampirew]

Keep Calm and Go to London chapter 24

Synopsis: This is the story of (y/n), a successful actress,   musician, musical producer and songwriter. After battling depression and  breaking up a long relationship, she seeks for a change of air,   escaping LA for a while going to visit some friends in London and there   she meets Henry. -Disclaimer: some chapters are mostly smut.

Previous Chapters in the masterlist

Triggers: talking about sex (daddy kink) (NOT SMUT😁🤣) - I think that’s the only trigger- I think.

Tag list:  Here’s the incredible people who showed me support (thank  you    so  much for that) and people who asked  me to tag them too  ☺️   (I    think  I will write a few chapters of  this story, if you want me to  tag     you, tell me ☺️   ) @cavillanche @mary-ann84 @henry-owns-these-tatas @yespolkadotkitty @dancingwendigo   constip8merm8      penwieldingdreamer iloveyouyen  littlefreya  wondersofdreaming     alyxkbrl solariumss  sweetybuzz25 @thethirstyarchive @agniavateira   @honeyloverogers @hell1129-blog   @lunedelorient​  @michelle-1185​  @madbaddic7ed​     @summersong69​

Good morning, daddy! - you said entering the kitchen, in a sexy tone.- What an amazing night. - you added as you approached him and kissed him. He became red as a tomato and his eyes were wide open. You looked at him confused and then you heard someone cough and laugh. You turned your head to the side and saw that in the kitchen island was the laptop open in the zoom app and there was Charlie, Henry's younger brother, with whom your boyfriend was chatting before you appear. You blushed as well and laughed. - Oh, hi Charlie! - you greeted - I would say good morning, but it's more than clear that it is, in fact, a good morning for you! - he joked. Oh, the audacity. - Would it help to clarify that I only call him daddy as a joke because his fans call him daddy all the time on Instagram? - Sure.- he laughed even harder. - It's true. I'm not really into the daddy kink... I'm more into him being the naughty boy I have to punish. - you said, grinning and winking at your lover's brother. Henry became red as a lobster. Poor shy boy. - Too much information. I'm sure the rest will love to hear that, specially Simon.- Charlie pointed out. - Charlie, I love you, but if you say a word of this to the others, I'll Superman your ass out of this planet. - Henry warned him. You looked at him confused by the threat and Henry explained that was a joke related to a sketch he made for Jimmy Kimmel Live a few years ago. You chuckled. - Don't worry. I won't say a word. I promise. - Charlie assured him. - Even if he says something you shouldn't worry babe, you were amazing, it's not something you should be embarrassed about, you should be proud of your awsomeness.- you said and winked. - Ok, TMI, baby, TMI. - he said grinning. - Alright. I'll shut up. - you promised. Then, you grabbed the avocado toast your boyfriend made you and some tea and went into the living room to take your breakfast and leave him so space to talk to his brother in peace. You picked up your laptop and checked for mails and to see if your band members had finished recording their parts for the new song you were working on, so you could put it all together. You checked your social network as well, and people were still going crazy about the news of your relationship. You curiously entered your name's hashtag and it was full of news about you and Henry and the paparazzi pictures from the day before and everyone sharing their opinions. You were surprised by how many people like the idea of you two being together. Some fans were angry but less than you expected. Other were rather worry than mad. You saw an account share a piece of video from an interview in which Henry said that his biggest dream in life was to start a family and with that video, she shared other in which you said to Ellen Degeneres that you didn't want to have kids and how angry it made you that when you said that you did not want kids, people would ignore your opinion and just comment "You're young, you'll change your mind". You sighed. You couldn't blame them for being worried. They just wanted him to be happy and starting a family being his biggest dream were words that came from his mouth. You wanted to tell them that they shouldn't worry. You wanted to let everyone know that you'd let him be if you couldn't give him what he wanted so badly, but at the same time, you knew it was better to say nothing. You didn't own anyone any explanation. It was something between you and Henry. It was nobody else's business. You needed to learn to respect yourself better. A little after that, Henry called you from the kitchen and you went there. He wanted to ask you what you wanted for lunch. You indicated that you were ok with anything he wanted to prepare and apologized if he was uncomfortable with the things you said to his brother before and he smirked and kissed you, assuring you he found that amusing and he and Charlie had a good laugh about it. - People are going insane on the internet about us. - you commented - I know, I saw it myself.- he admitted - Your fans are worried because I said in the past that I didn't want kids. - you sighed. - Don't let it bother you. This is something that only should concern the two of us and nobody else. I'm a big man, I know what is best for me.- he told you and then kissed you. - So you are still ok with people knowing about us? - you questioned - Are you kidding? I'm a legend. Superman got the Hollywood Superwoman! - he exclaimed.- Everyone is wondering how the hell I managed to get you to date me.- he said proudly - Haha, very funny! I'm the lucky one, sir! Look at you, Greek God, you're a piece of art. How could anyone be surprised I'd lost my mind over you.- you replied, grabbing his waist and kissing him. He smiled and pressed his forehead against yours. - So you asked me if I was ok, what about you? Is ok with you that people know about us? - he wondered. - Absolutely. I like being the bitch everyone envy because the hottest and sweetest guy in Hollywood and the world is dating her. I love the fact that people know your heart is mine and mine is yours.- you affirmed and he smirked while stroking your face. - So, you think we should make it official? - you asked - Is it official already? - he questioned confused. - Not technically; not until one of us confirmed it.- you pointed out and he put his best "Well, would you look at that" face. -Sure, how you want to do it? - I have an idea on the mind- you replied smirking devilishly. So you went into the living room and put on Taylor Swift's "London Boy" to play aloud and started to record yourself lip-syncing some parts of the song.

(...) But something happened, I heard him laughing I saw the dimples first and then I heard the accent They say home is where the heart is But that's not where mine lives

You know I love a London boy I enjoy walking Camden Market in the afternoon He likes my American smile Like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you Took me back to Highgate, met all of his best mates So I guess all the rumours are true You know I love a London boy Boy, I fancy you (ooh)

And now I love high tea, stories from uni, and the West End You can find me in the pub, we are watching rugby with his school friends Show me a grey sky, a rainy cab ride Babe, don't threaten me with a good time They say home is where the heart is But God, I love the English

That last line earned a huge smile on your part.

You know I love a London boy I enjoy nights in Brixton, Shoreditch in the afternoon He likes my American smile Like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you Took me back to Highgate, met all of his best mates So I guess all the rumours are true You know I love a London boy Boy, I fancy you.

You posted the video on your Instagram feed and added some highlighted lines from the lyrics. "So I guess all the rumours are true You know I love a London boy Boy, I fancy you."

People went crazy with your post. Your friend Taylor left many hearts on the comments. But the comment that stood out was Henry's: " 😳🤯😍 🥰❤️❤️❤️ 🇬🇧 ". That made you feel incredible. The fact that he did not care about people's opinions and would proudly show affection to you in front of the world made you incredibly happy. For the first time, you experienced what being loved unconditionally felt like.

[claudiafekete]

This is another ordinary story of “how xxx fandoms changed my life” -

- or maybe not. you decide. I want to write it down.  trigger warning for politics, discussion of sexual violence, mild gender dysphoria It’s also horribly long. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. 

When I first came to tumblr, I had just graduated from APH. Short for Axis Power Hetalia. I learned about it in the form of manga. For years it was my everything - I learned what fanfic or fanart meant and I learned the basic online etiquette. As I grew in years, it accompanied me.

Until it didn’t.

Shortly after I fell into solangelo.

It’s a fun story, how I picked up PJO years after years of absence. My brother was whining about something written in Magnus Chase. “What do you think the Norse Gods were going to do to Percy that Annabeth was crying?” He demanded. I expressed my confusion. He kept on with his different theories and I made the decision to look it up online later.

My online search of Percy Jackson’s fate soon revealed something unknown to me before: solangelo. The first canon gay ship I ever knew. Therefore, at the ripe old age of 19, I threw myself into this endless hole called “tumblr” for the first time.

It was the most LGBTQ+ friendly place I had ever been. I joke you not. It was also the place where I was taught not only how a healthy relationship should look like, but also how sex should or could be like.  You don’t learn anything healthy about sex in Chinese or Mandarin using fandom, at least during the years I was in them. There were rigid 攻/受(roughly translated as top/bottom) stereotypes that everyone rushed to squeezed their characters into them. A lot of time though both person might ship A with B, they wouldn’t interact because one thought A should top and another thought B should top. Their different topping designation resulted in depictions of the characters’ personalities so dramatically differed that you couldn’t recognize them as the same characters.  Other than the refreshing relationship dynamics, Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard offered me a chance to take a look at my gender identity. I had known that theoretically non-binary people existed outside of binary gender, but I hadn’t known how one might live as one or describe themselves as one. I’m not trying to claim that Alex Fierro’s story is the only story of non-binary people. I’m trying to say that it was the starting point for me to make exploration and find the label  “agender” for myself.

I stayed in APH for 6 years. I had expected to stay in solangelo for longer.

Entered June 2019 with its whispers and anxious demonstrations. Entered folks pouring into streets in Hong Kong. Entered tear gas and facemasks and sticks and a bullet scarcely missing the heart and journalists beaten by police. Entered young students not of age disappearing mysteriously. Entered people dressed in white attacking citizens and not arrested by police. Entered dead bodies that were probably “被自殺 (being suicided)”.

Entered a city falling into the hands of tyrants next to your door, and you didn’t know how to help. You didn’t know what to do with yourself with your clean and spare hands. You were so far away from the frontline, you were angry and helpless and hopeless for that.

It was the first time I witnessed, first-hand, how the Chinese government directed the discussion online, so that it seemed as if there were random mobs who were disturbing the peace of Hong Kong and possibly taking money or being trained by US.  “Bullshit. Would there still be so many kids hurt on street if we have received any kinds of training for this?“  Of course, the majority of Chinese people inland wouldn’t hear that. Hong Kong is a former colony. Any calls of outrage toward the present government must be made by disillusioned young people who were unaware of colonization and imperialism. 

That was why I took refugee in Good Omens. I needed to run some where to stop myself from scratching myself to blood. I needed to some works for these clean and spare hands to do so that they wouldn’t pick up something destructive, such as a knife.

If the PJOverse fandom had felt the best place on earth, well, the Good Omens fandom lifted me into paradise. 

I’ve never seen so much kindness being showed under one tag. The creators and actors were all kind and interacted with the fans in their own ways. We were encouraged to do everything, anything, to build art with it however we liked. We as fans were recognized. We were seen. We were ... cared for. It was overwhelming, in a good way.  For that, I would be forever thankful to Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett and Michael Sheen and so many others in the production. I would be forever thankful to artists who liberated body types and freed the ties between gender expression and genitals. I would be forever thankful for the fantastic creators out there.

Would it seem as if I’ve only cherished the mutuals I met in Good Omens fandom? It wasn’t my intention. There are friends I keep in touch long after I fell out of love with APH. There are mutuals I got to know through solangelo and I feel, I hope that we are friends. Everyone who has chat with me I do my best to remember. (Though I do left conversation in weird places, become so ashamed of my incompetency that I do not continue them.)

What I’m trying to say is, as good as the solangelo fandom was, I still ran into biphobic posts here and there. It was only once or twice – but it was a constant reminder that being bisexual didn’t seem “valid” to some of the other LGBTQ+ members out there. Who cares what cis-gendered, heteronormative people said? Bullets that shot from friendly fire hurt the worst.

Besides, with a large and vibrant fandom like Good Omens, it’s easier to feel less alone and more… seen.

Damn right. Even after writing more that 5000 words in English it is still so easy to fall back into the comfortable nest of mother tongue. I can read simplified Chinese characters as well as the traditional Chinese characters I grow up using. There probably will never be getting the accent right but soundlessly devouring words in front of a screen? I excel at that.

That was what’s happening when the days rolled into January, 2020. I flew to US as an exchange student and exchanged long letters with a young Chinese woman I met in Good Omens fandom. I’ve never felt so alone in life. English as in creative writing has never come more naturally for me. The words burst in my head and arranged themselves freely on screen or on papers. I’ve never felt more hopeful about my writing ability.

The days rolled into March, 2020.

The first time my mom told me to come home over home, I laughed. The second time, I frowned. Before she pleaded me for the third time, I had grabbed a ticket.

I hadn’t imagined the disease plaguing China and its neighboring countries would affect the whole world.

You lived the rest of the story. I fled back to Taiwan.

 That was where Doctor Who came in. Or David Tennant. Such a strange time. For fourteen days I was the only living human in the house. I watched Casanova – or was it later? Hamlet definitely came before that. Then I could live with my family again. I handed in my homework and wrote in a different language than the people around me were speaking. My parents were working. My little brother was in school. When there was no one to talk to me I either read or watch Doctor Who to pass the time. I fell for Thirteen. I fell for twissy. Falling fast and hard and completely won over by their glamour.

I started internship. There were some small breaks where I could catch an episode or half, but never as much time as before. I dipped into fandom wiki and found that no matter how much research I did, there would always be details I overlooked simply because I could not afford hours watching all the episodes. No matter how hard I squeezed my schedule for time, no matter how much I devoted myself to the series, it would never be enough.

So I gave up, and let it go. For the first time in quite a while, I willingly gave up something for the simple reason of “I want to live a more comfortable life”.

 Came summer. Damp air combined with biting heat and piles after piles of biochemical terms made life agonizing. An ordinary kind of pre-pandemic “agonizing” which felt like a luxury in a world that was ending.

Hong Kong fell.

It was bound to happen. Once I heard protestors fought their way into the legislature I knew, for almost an year I knew, nothing good would come out of this. CCP would never allow its subjects acting out of hand. With such open despise to the authority, CCP would take nothing but a full conquest at the end of it.

See where we are now. As long as you’re “interfering” the political climate “inside” China, it doesn't matter which nationality you hold or where you were or how long it has been since you made the statement. “According to the law”, China can come for you. No, better, it can tell your country to hand you over. What a clever empire. What a graceful empire.

What a horrifying empire.

With the news I spiraled down fast. I kept away from the young Chinese woman I was exchanging letters with, I kept away from any kinds of Chinese social media, and the worst of all, I kept away from Good Omens, for it was sweet and kind and hopeful, for it reminded me of a time where fighting seemed to make a difference. I was empty and exhausted and a husk. Something must come out to fill the void. Someone needed to paint me in colors so that the world wouldn’t notice I was fading away.

I was surprised at who took the brush.

 After ten years, the first man I ever have a crush on strolled back into my life.

He was over thirty, but I always pictured him in his early twenties. Dark hair, eyes of grey or silvery blue. Loud laughter that sounded like a bark. Swift and elegant. Intelligent. Prideful. Stubborn. I embraced him as I’ve done ten years ago as a little child.

When I looked past him, I saw someone else.

Worn, weathered, with wry humor. Attentive and considerate. Tortured by the world yet never stop giving out kindness. Countless scars. Grey hair unfitting to his age. I didn’t pay him much attention ten years ago. This time, I looked.

Let me introduce you Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, my very first crush and the man who is too much like my last crush.

 2020, a month before Fall semester started, I trekked cautiously, timidly back into Harry Potter fandom.

The fandom of August 2020 was very different from fandom of 2010. The lack of author, for one – it became mandatory to denounce the author’s transphobic statement and other bigotry setting. I’m glad that everyone is doing their best to make it a friendly place for minority groups. Though I’m afraid, by making it a white or black situation with short statements and no discussion, it wouldn’t really help people understand why she is wrong in this. However irrefutable the author’s guilt seems to us, it is not something obvious to those who are unfamiliar with the subjects.

But it does feel good to see blogs and fics with the introduction such as “If you support the author’s transphobic bullshit this place does not welcome you”. It feels reliving.

The second was, I found the type of work I’m actively pursuing changed.

Back when I was young – when I was so little I didn’t even know what the word “fandom” meant – I read Character x OFC and some M x M. During the APH period I read an alarming amount of M x M and countless historical AU. When digging through solangelo, beside the canon divergence stories, simple AU like coffee shop grabbed my attention. Coming out stories were my comforts. The best of Good Omens fics were either in canon verse discussing desires, bravery, humanity and mortality, or setting in an AU with the promise of sweet, fluffy endings. Doctor Who almost always focused on Time and Space. Love was twisted and so often tainted by anger. Monster and god were very alike.

I came a full circle back to the Marauder era, and found myself not looking for heroes, but for young fighters struggling desperately in a seemingly hopeless war. I looked for people who were frightened but never, never ever going down without a fight.

I used to find characters and events unfolding in foreign places, now I want  characters who are close to what I am or what I want to be.

---

So, that’s it, my grand journey through multiple fandoms and basically a journey of self-discovery. It’s messy, sometimes painful, but always with so much joy blooming along the way.

Something doesn’t change. I’m still obsessed with words. I’m still a sucker for happy ending. I’m still wishing someone will come and love me the way I need to be loved.

Something does. I stop imagining that some magical power will come into my life and solve everything. I stop looking for others to save me from myself. I start believing that though wounds hurt, some of them do teach us to be a better person.

Long ago, I saw my friends and I as rabbits, without proper weapons to defend ourselves. That wouldn’t do. I thought. For my friends I’ll grow into a snake with fangs to protect them. Maybe I have grown into a snake. Maybe I haven’t. But I do hope I won’t stop fighting for those I love, with those I love.

I hope I won’t give up.

[chappedandfadedvds]

Dec 30th, Wednesday 19:59

Goliath&In Your Likeness - Woodkid

Two first songs of Woodkid’s newest album, played back to back

No strong triggers apply in this one, I think. Nonetheless, the cancer is mentioned and it is still full of angst. So if you wish to skip at any point, the summary is at the end of this post.

__ __ __

„I didn’t mean to worry you.“

He had found his voice after minutes spent staring at the wooden surface of the table he sat at. There was a hot steaming cup of tea patiently waiting to be tasted. A kind gesture that fell flat against the sheer pain he felt, when he had no injury to show for. No one else had dared to speak as they all took their respectively seats around the table dressed in nothing but low burned candles. And his tea. The room was dim from the little lights reminding of christmas spend in laughter. Jens was thankful to be able to hide in the half-litted dark as his eyes flew across his friends’s faces.

„You don’t have to apologise.“ Senne had raised his voice first, before other’s were quick to follow. All of them reassuring, even if they couldn’t fathom why he had run out into the freezing cold. Jens wasn’t even sure on his reasons either. It all became a blur.

„It was a panic attack, not your fault.“ Of course Sander would know. Jens was sure, after Lucas, he probably was the best to understand him, given their late night conversation only two days ago.

„We were just really scared for you.“ Zoe said it like he hadn’t been scared for himself as well. 

„What happened?“ The one question that weighed the heaviest on him, and perhaps was the most honest of them all, as eyes watched him carefully from all sides. He stiffened. Involuntary, but he couldn’t help himself, as Lucas began to gently brush his fingers up and down his back, while he edged his chair closer towards Jens. So close that the wooden frames clashed soundly against each other. Luca who had been so brave to ask in the first place, quickly backtracked. „If you don’t mind me asking. Sorry.“

His throat was incredibly sore. Perhaps from the crying, maybe from the gasping, definitely from the coughing on his way in. He wetted his dry lips, in an attempt to stop biting them til they bled. He shook his head, his gaze dropping back down towards the table.

„I should have told you a while ago.“

Jens really should have. Regret lingered in his heart, when he thought that this would have been easier, had they known month ago. But they would have treated him differently, right? They had to. If not, if his belief had been wrong, he had made himself suffer for nothing, right? All he wanted was a bit more time to be the Jens that his friends knew him to be.

Everyone watched him as he pondered on what to say. Nothing would be good enough to explain his lies and secrecy. He didn’t minded so much about others, but entirely about Robbe. His best friend, who knew his mother for a decade. Who should have known. Who should had have the opportunity to come to terms with it at his own pace. 

Jens looked back up, his eyes searching for Robbe’s, while a treacherous new sob dared to take over, but he tried to surpress it to manage the little words he could muster.

„Robbe...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tell you like this. I should have month ago. I should have back in the car. I’m so sorry. You are my best friend and I. I just. I didn’t.“ His messed up voice was tripping over itself, stuttering at all the wrong places, when he apparently handled to say more as he had expected of himself a second ago. 

„It’s okay. Really. Nothing to be sorry for. We are just really worried. And we love you. You can just talk when you are comfortable, okay?“ Robbe interrupted him promptly, his tone full of sympathy. And pity, if one would have asked Jens.

He had to say something. He couldn’t take all of this into the new year. Not when his mom would disappear from his side too soon, and Lotte would replace all of his concious attention, always lingering in his perception. Lotte. He hadn’t even thought about her yet. He’d have to take her home to a house that no longer hold their mother. How was he supposed to do this? How was he supposed to explain it to her?

How, when he couldn’t even begin to let his closest friends know.

„I recieved a call.“ He dully stated, his eyes darting towards nothingness in their group’s centre. Unfocused as his hands desperately grasped onto Lucas’s in his lap, who surely must had felt pained from the tight clasp of fingers. Yet his boyfriend remained stubbornly calm, when he only went to rest his head on Jens’s shoulder.

He should just give them the reason for his distraught reaction, caught in a panic. Out there it couldn’t hurt him as much as from within, he believed.

„My mom has cancer. She is dying.“ He tilted his head for a second of quiet contemplation. Jens spoke more to himself, to the air between them, than to any person unfortunate enough to have to listen to his whisper. „No, that’s not quite right, is it? She is already dead. Just breathing for a while longer, I think. But her doctor wants her in the hospital.That’s why she had called. To tell me that we’ve reached the end.“ He drew in a sharp breath, bruning his lungs. „We just lost.“

His voice died down, when it shouldn’t even had been considered a sound, so low, to only be audible as no one had moved nor spoken. There they were again, the familiar tears. How was it still possible to cry after all that? Wasn’t he dried up yet? He certainly felt the part, when his confession had reached it’s conclusion.

He also realised that he had just ruined their trip.

„Oh Jens.“ Jana breathed out before anyone else, her voice broken in a reflection of his own sorrow. Robbe swift to push himself up to his feet and rush to hug Jens tightly from Lucas’s opposite side. His boyfriend softly gasping, who hadn’t known about the call yet, but only clung to him stronger in return as the realisation settled. His arm who had only loosely covered his back, now wrapped around his middle.

„Since when?“ Yasmina asked. A steady voice of reason, now heavy from her own sadness. She still managed to possess the strenght in her words to reach him from the other end of the table.

„Since march.“ It barely came over his lips. How was it only nine month? It felt like an eternity. A life worth of lies to cover the inevitable. Another apology stuck on his tounge. He hadn’t had any excuses left.

„Fuck.“ Aaron cursed into the silence that settled between them, each one of them dwelled upon their own thoughts, remembering back towards the summer and fall, in which it hadn’t felt as dire as now in december.

„She recieved treatments and surgery, but...“ The failure to help his mom’s battle stood unspoken. Not needed when it was clearly written all over his surrendered expression.

„Dude. I’m so fucking sorry, for all the times I got mad at you for ghosting us. I. Shit.“ Moyo rambled rueful from his seat, swallowing down more words, that weren’t important enough to say out loud.

„Why didn’t you tell anyone?“ Aaron asked absentmindedly, Amber tearing up silently next to him, as he rubbed her arm.

„Lucas knew.“ Jens felt like the worst friend on this forsaken planet, for having confided in his boyfriend first. Lucas, who he knew for a fraction of the time he knew his friends. Did he betray their trust? Even if he made himself remember Robbe’s words from their kitchen talk weeks back, did it still feel terribly wrong at times. Just like it did now. He had kept such an immense part of his life deliberatly away from the people closest to him. He was a horrible person, an even worse friend.

„So what does that mean for you? I mean, are you going to move to your older sister or your father or something else? I have so many questions. Sorry.“ Milan’s questions tumbled from his lips unhindered. Jens knew he didn’t mean harm in asking, but it was such a grand subject, he unfortunately, or in actuality fortunately, already knew most answers to, he immediately felt exhausted.

„No, uhm, everythings settled. I own it all. I’ve made up my mind. And I’m going to raise Lotte myself.“

His friends were all stunned in a thick layer of complete silence, as their eyes were frozen solely on him.

He fidget restless on his chair, uncomfortable to be the single source of everyone’s unabated focus. Lucas lifted his head in order to face Jens for the first time since they had taken their seats. A worn out expression and a silent plea in the older boy’s eyes, enough for his boyfriend to understand.

„I think we are going to head to bed. We all can talk another time about this, right?“

Lucas undoubtedly was the best thing that had happened to him at the worst and most unlucky time in his still young life. Jens once more let himself be helped up to his feet and steadied by the younger boy’s arms. As he didn’t trusted his knees to not give in outright. They took the stairs, still without any kind of reaction of their friends left behind to their stupor. Only eyes watching on in silent contemplation. If they had stayed to discuss the bit of truth Jens had unveiled, he hadn’t heard it.

It was the first night without him being told a good night. Quite obvious that he wouldn’t have one. 

He doubted his friends would find a restful sleep either.

And it was all his fault.

__ __ __ tagged: @odi-et-amo85, @tayspots summary:

Everyone gathers around the dining table. Jens finally confides in his friends and tells them that his mother is dying of cancer, as well as Lotte being left in his care. It is all very brief and undetailed. But the group is clearly taken aback and feels sorry for their friend. Lucas and him leave to go to bed, needing to be up early for their drive home. Jens feels guilty for ruining their trip.

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 159

Chapter Summary - Tom and Danielle tell Luke their news before it is declared to the world.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

Copyright for the photo is the owners, not mine. All image rights belong to their owners

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1 @black-ninja-blade

Luke stretched his neck and cursed falling asleep sitting up the night before. Tabloids had caught wind of Tom being at Wimbledon and every last one to see it made note that Danielle was not there with him and assumed they had been the first to realise that she had left him or him her without any shred of proof or indication of such. It was hardly the most taxing or bothersome of stories but it covered more of the internet than Tom's recent outings so he had to keep an eye on it all the same. He found himself rolling his eyes at the analysis of some people declaring that Tom was depressed looking, or elated to be rid of Danielle, depending on their own personal thoughts of her. To be honest, Luke could never understand what would make a woman willing to endure the sheer madness of Tom's life outside of genuine love of him.

He looked at his watch and noted that Tom would be arriving at his office supposedly in the next fifteen minutes. He shook his head. Tom tried to be punctual, he really did, but he would get caught talking to someone or get overly interested in a book and genuinely be too polite to excuse himself or forget the time before being delayed and turning up late and apologising profusely. He was unsure why Tom asked to see him with no situation that he could think of to warrant an official enough meeting between them. He knew of Tom and Danielle's trip to the seaside with his family, he worried that perhaps something had gone awry there and the pair had seen fit to part ways, but his tone on the phone was pleasant, something he knew with confidence that Tom would not be inclined to be should his friend and his partner had broken up.

Only five minutes later, he received a call from his secretary informing him that his clients were waiting outside. He chuckled and he gave his assistant the go-ahead to let them in before waiting to see what it was he was dealing with, the plural giving him an indication it was not an impending breakup.

Tom and Danielle came in smiling, Tom embracing his friend and Danielle giving him a small peck on the cheek as they entered. “Hello, I was worried about this meeting at first, I see that was a terrible assumption on my behalf.” He indicated for them to sit across from him at his desk. “I assume that this is an official visit?” Tom smirked and handed a sheet of paper to his friend. Luke looked at him sceptically before taking the piece of paper and opening it. For a moment, he looked at the paper before looking up at the pair across from him. “Really?”

Tom smirk turned and lifted Danielle's hand, showing her ring to him. “Mum is having it put in tomorrow's paper because Danielle is working in London for a fortnight and she will be spotted wearing it, so we thought it best to inform you so to prepare for whatever madness arises.”

Luke reread the piece again before smiling brightly. “Well, after the claims from yesterday, this will be hilarious, congratulations to you both,” he looked at Danielle's hand. “Antique and classy, as though I could expect anything else.”

“What's this of yesterday's claims?” Tom asked worriedly.

“You, going to the tennis final by yourself is somehow a declaration that you two have gone your separate ways.” Luke informed them. “Danielle’s absence is nothing short of a formal break up announcement in their opinion.”

'Wow, this will be awkward for them,” Danielle scoffed. “Are we allowed any time apart? I dare say it is tiring being attached to one's significant other all the time. I was too busy stealing our niece for a few hours to boil myself in the unusually warm weather.”

“Yes, I cannot believe it had lasted this long.” Luke looked to the air conditioning vent in his office. “If that fails, I will be relocating to a freezer.” Tom and Danielle gave a laugh. “So, this is official? When are you thinking about a wedding? There's nothing rushing this is there?”

“No, nothing of the sort, we are talking about next summer, most likely. Nothing is planned yet, though Mum very much has plans to change that soon for fear we delay.” Tom informed him.

“Well, I appreciate the consideration. We can ensure everything is covered on this side of things,” Luke smiled before chuckling. “For a time, I genuinely never thought I'd see the day. You finding someone and settling down. Danielle, you made him see sense.”

“And this is my penance apparently,” she joked in return. “I’m sorry for the bother that this will cause you.”

Luke shook his head slightly. “Please, this is what I do as my living, I am just grateful that this is a good and pleasant situation to be overseeing as opposed to what others have to deal with. I will have this place ready for it, all I can say is like with the announcement that you two are together, there will be positive and negative reactions.”

“We know.” Tom gently rubbed Danielle's hand. “As Elle said, you will have to bear the brunt of this, so long as Elle stays offline,” he gave her a small pleading look.

“What, some people are ridiculous and hilarious?” She shrugged.

“And cruel and spiteful and some outright sick in the head,” Luke added, which Tom nodded to.

“They're the minority and the immature. People with odd notions of somehow finding Prince Charming and him ignoring obvious issues such as age, geography and other aspects and running away with them to live happily ever after into the sunset together. And I will admit, I enjoy their tantrums when I'm in the right mood.”

Tom shook his head and sighed. “You are mad.”

“You knew this anyway.” She laughed with a slight shrug as they all rose from their chairs.

“Elle, I need to speak to Tom for a moment, if that's alright?” Luke requested.

Danielle did not even blink before smiling brightly. “Of course.” She stepped out of the room and went to sit on one of the comfortable chairs outside Luke's office.

“A little warning?” Luke chuckled. “I know you said soon but you never mentioned it being this swift.”

“The last time I tried to plan around her, she overheard part of the conversation and thought there was something to worry about. I hadn't a time and place planned, I just went with what felt right and thankfully, she said yes.”

“Against her better judgement, no doubt.” Luke joked. “I am thrilled for you, Tom, I really am. How was your family's reaction?”

“You need to ask?” Tom beamed. “Mum is anxious to start planning.”

“So, it really is going to be a long engagement, as they do?”

“I don't think you could force her forward. Apparently, her cousin is getting married in the Spring of next year, which is already being noted as being too soon and to go ahead of that is a social faux-pas like nothing before by Irish standards.”

“I'll take your word for it. But being honest Tom, I am not sure Elle should allow herself read what some people are going to say, this will get a vitriolic reaction from some, in the same way Ben Cumberbatch and his wife suffered. I am not joking when I say that there may be reason to alert the authorities should they threaten her physically.”

Tom's eyes widened slightly. “They are just vocal online because of anonymity, they surely wouldn't….”

“They don't tend to, no but considering the abuse I physically witnessed her receive the time it was revealed she and Emma were friends before you began seeing one another, people seem to forget that they cannot say and do what they like without consequence. You too have noted how things have changed, Elle's safety from fanatics, and indeed yours is paramount. I think some may not take this well and get angered at you also.”

Tom studied Luke's expression. “What do you not tell me about what you see online with regards me and Elle?”

“You would lose sleep if I told you everything,” Luke confessed. “But with even YouTube stars being shot dead by supposed fans these days, no PR person can take any threat too lightly.”

“Alright, we'll be smart,” Tom swore, not certain as to whether or not he would say too much to Danielle for fear of scaring her when it was more than likely not necessary.

Luke made towards the door and opened it. When they stepped out, Danielle was looking astutely at her phone. She did not notice the two men standing beside her as she focused on the work plan in front of her.

“More changes?” Tom asked, knowing that she had been given two altered sets already.

She looked up at them and put her phone on standby. “No, just studying the street plan to see where are dangerous positions for large machinery.” She explained as she sighed. “I really should do more on my laptop or invest in a tablet, I am going bleary-eyed from looking at a small screen.”

“Business expenses, it's a great excuse,” Luke suggested with a grin. “I will alert everyone here to the imminent news so don't worry about that. You two have a pleasant day before your faces hit every celebrity news site and no doubt a tonne of papers and don't allow it to bother you.” He shook Tom's hand but Tom pulled him in for a hug. “You did better than you should have.” Luke jested.

“There's no need to tell me I am punching above my weight.” Tom acknowledged.

“Elle, congratulations, or commiserations, I'm not sure which is more suitable, it's debatable.” He moved forward and embraced her.

Danielle laughed at his words. “Well, you've had to endure him for enough of a period of time to know the truth in that.” She gave him a peck on the cheek. “Thank you for this and I really am sorry for any bother this creates for you.”

“If I did not wish to deal with public relations, I think it is safe to say I am in the wrong job.” He laughed as they walked to the office door. “I will be contactable if either or both of you want me and of course, I will be keeping you both posted on everything here.” After giving their thanks, Tom and Danielle left. Luke smiled at his friend's news and happiness as they did so before looking to the piece of paper in his hand and turning to his secretary. “Could you call everyone to my office please?” He requested, causing his secretary to go and do as requested. “We're in for a busy day tomorrow.”

*

The engagement is announced between Tom, only son of Dr James Hiddleston, of Oxford and Mrs Diana Hiddleston, of Aldeburgh and Danielle, the only child of the late Dr Matthew Hughes and the late Mrs Bridget Hughes, of Connemara, Co. Galway, Ireland.

The next morning, The Telegraph declared to the world in its engagement section that Tom and Elle were engaged. To them, bar the texts of congratulations from those they had not told by text themselves, nothing was any different. Tom kept Danielle offline by strategically requesting that she assist him with a long overdue clearing of his wardrobe, as it was becoming cluttered. Before he said anything, she had a black bag readied, her sleeves rolled up, and a terrifying look of determination on her face, Tom felt allowing her online would be less painful at that moment.

“I don't want to dump anything.”

“There are clothes here with holes that are not supposed to have holes,” she pointed specifically to a pair of socks that Tom was certain he wore training for the London marathon over a decade previous with large holes in any seam it had. “Do you need these?”

“No.” A moment later, they were in the bag. She then held up a t-shirt with a hole in the armpit. “No, not that,” he pleaded.

“Have you worn it in the last year?”

“I haven't worn it in over a decade.”

“Then why keep it?”

“It means a lot to me, I have a lot of fond memories in this.” He smiled at the t-shirt before taking it from her. “In RADA, I always wore this before a performance that mattered, for grades and such.” He watched as she took it from him and folded it neatly and placed it on the bed with a loving smile before holding up something else. “Don't bother dumping that, burn it,” he declared, physically wincing at the shirt she was holding up. “What the fuck was I thinking?”

Danielle assessed the shirt and shook her head. “I think it's safe to say you weren't thinking. I take it you bought this when you were shitfaced someday and thought it a good idea?”

“No.” Tom growled before looking at her sheepishly. “I was hungover and my shirt was covered in...well not pleasant things and my lift back from Cambridge was due and there was no way I would be allowed in the car otherwise and it was the best of a bad lot.” Danielle laughed. “So burn it.”

She glanced over the shirt. “It hasn't been worn since has it?”

Tom shook his head. “I'm still trying to figure out how it got here, I'm fairly sure I dumped it years ago before moving here.” He watched as Danielle placed it in a smaller empty bag she took out. “What are you doing?”

“Donating it. That could be something someone else needs.” She smiled.

Tom could only smile at her, elated at the knowledge that the world would now know she saw him as worthy of something she held in such high regard like marriage.

[ultyutae]

Hi can I request a Lucas x reader where she’s pregnant and about to tell him but find out tat he’s been cheating on her so they broke up then meet again a few years later and find about about his son/daughter?

Lucas x (fem)Reader

Word Count: 1400+

Tags: Pregnant reader, angst(?), comfort(?)

Trigger Warnings: infedelity, light swearing

A/N: sorry this took so long :( I know it’s been a month since you asked this but I’ve just been so busy to write anything good, thank you for your patience though, and once again I’m sorry!

[17:47] Your hands trembled as you sat in the bathroom stall, slowly bringing up the pregnancy test you held upto the light to check it one more time, just to make sure there really was two red lines that appeared. After checking over and over again, your heart started to race as realization overcame you: you were pregnant with Lucas's child. In such a case you should have probably been happy, but instead fear and anxiety washed over you, as you realized you had no idea how Lucas would respond to such a thing, especially considering the two of you weren't even married yet. Letting out a deep sigh, you pulled out your phone and texted Lucas, telling him that you had to tell him something important to tonight. Once you finished sending the message, you headed back to your car, tightly clutching the small bag that contained your pregnancy test in it.

On your drive back, you decided to stop by a cafe and get some coffee, since there was still a good thirty minutes till you got home and you didn’t want to risk falling asleep at the wheel given how tired you were. As you entered the cafe, you scanned the area just to see how packed it was. While you were looking around, your eyes fell upon a familiar looking figure sitting at one of the tables near the back. As you took a few steps closer to get a better look, you let out a gasp as you realized it was Lucas. You decided to brush it off and approach him after you buy your coffee, but your attention was quickly grabbed as you watched a pretty woman sit down in front of him, and started to talk in what seemed to be an intimate manner. Okay, maybe I’m overreacting. She’s probably some friend I don’t know about, you reassured yourself. You didn’t want to get jealous, as you found trust to be important in your relationship. But you could feel your trust start to crumble quickly as you watched the pretty woman trace her fingertips up Lucas’s arm, while Lucas made no motion to stop her, and instead grabbed her other hand and intertwined it with his own. That was it. You could feel rage and frustration bubbling inside you, and before you knew it you were striding over to Lucas.

“Hello Lucas, babe, fancy meeting you here,” you said loudly. Lucas jumped out of his seat and the woman across from his gasped, and let out a small “shit!” upon seeing you. You paid little attention to her, and instead decided to interrogate Lucas. “So, care to introduce me to your friend here? I don’t believe we’ve met yet,” you said still in a loud voice, flashing a smile at the woman. The woman nervously smiled back, but only for a few seconds before she looked away.

“She’s just uh... a friend,” Lucas mumbled, taking a sip from his cup.

“No name? Just ‘friend’? Hello ‘friend’, I’m Lucas’s girlfriend,” you said, snatching the cup from Lucas’s hand. Within one swift motion you took off the lid and poured the entire drink on Lucas’s head.

“What the hell was that for?” Lucas snapped.

“You know damn well what that was for,” you said, glaring daggers as he gave you an annoyed look, also taking napkins to dry himself. “So, are you gonna say something about or will I have to force it out of you?” You asked, crossing your arms. Lucas groaned, and took a deep breath.

“Fine, you caught me. I’ve been hooking up with Yuqi for a while now,” he said, glancing back and forth between you and the woman you assumed to be Yuqi.

“I see. Well, I hope you have a nice life then.”

“What?”

“I’m breaking up with you, dumbass. You think I can forgive cheating?” You said, your voice now starting to tremble as your eyes slowly welled up. Before letting him get another word in, you quickly exited the cafe, not wanting to see his face anymore. You put a hand to your stomach, silently apologizing to your unborn child that they would probably be growing up with only one parent. As you got into your car, instead of putting in the address for your and Lucas’s shared apartment, you input the address for your best friend Doyoung’s place instead. The drive there was in complete silence, you couldn’t bring yourself to even listen to music throughout the whole ride. Upon getting to Doyoung’s house, you finally let go of all your emotions when he opened the door and pulled you into a hug, letting you collapse in his arms.

Time skip: 3 years ahead

Your three year old daughter held onto your hand as the two of you were taking a walk to the local cafe to meet with Doyoung, who had been given some free time and wasn’t busy practicing most of the day as usual. As your daughter happily skipped towards Doyoung, who was waiting at the front of the cafe, you noticed someone exiting the cafe, coming from behind him. Your eyes widened as you let out a gasp, realizing it was Lucas. You haven’t seen him since the day you broke up with him. Lucas looked up to see you staring right at him, and you quickly looked away, trying to avoid anymore eye contact.

“Hey,” he said, walking up to you. Now Doyoung’s and your daughter’s eyes were both on you. You took a deep breath, gathering your courage to speak.

“Hi,” you mumbled, looking down.

“It’s been a while, how ha- ow!” Lucas yelped, rubbing his back. As he turned around to see what jabbed at him, his gaze fell downwards as he stared at the small pebble that was thrown at thin. His eyes trailed towards where the pebble came from, leading him to fix his eyes on Doyoung.

“The hell was that for?” Lucas asked.

“Watch your language, there’s a child here,” Doyoung warned.

“To be specific, our child is here,” you said quietly, but loud enough for Lucas to hear you. Lucas gazed down at the little girl standing next to Doyoung, then back at you.

“This is your guys’ daughter? Con-“

“No, she’s yours and mine,” you blurted, cutting him off. Lucas’s eyes widened, as he took another look at the little girl. Her eyes were just as big and wide as his, he realized. The more he looked at her, it was like a wave of nostalgia had come crashing down on him. There was no doubt, this was his daughter.

“But... how? I never got you pregnant!” Lucas asked.

“You remember the day I left? It was the same day I found out. I was on my way to tell you, but then...”

“...then you caught me with someone else,” he finished, letting out a sigh. “I’m really sorry. I was so dumb and immature back then, I didn’t really think twice about anything I would do.” You simply shook your head and let out an exasperated laugh.

“You know apologizing after years won’t do much, will it? What’s happened has happened, all we can do is move on,” you said quietly. Lucas nodded, and slowly made his way over to your daughter. He bent down, so he was at eye level with the small child.

“Hi there, I’m Lucas. What’s your name?” He asked softly. Your daughter looked back and forth between you and Doyoung, not answering before she got a reassuring nod from you. Your daughter shyly introduced herself, and Lucas reached out his hand for her to shake. Your daughter took his hand immediately and shook it, and that’s when Lucas started to sniffle. He quickly got up and turned around, only letting you see his already teary eyes.

“Well, it was nice running into you guys,” Lucas said, clearing his throat. As he started to walk in the opposite direction, you found yourself calling his name.

“Lucas!” he turned around, as if startled at hearing you speak. “You’re welcome to come by and visit us at anytime. Don’t think I’ve forgiven you for cheating on me, but it’s not right... you should be able to see her grow up too,” you sighed, not sure if you were doing the right thing. Lucas simply smiled and you could tell he was going to take you up on your offer.

“Thanks, but I’ll keep my distance. After all, she won’t ever find out who I really am.”

[banashee]

Part 7 of my @badthingshappenbingo​

Square: Forcibly stripped

Please see more detailed warnings on the bottom!

Blindsided

 When he walks down the hallway, handcuffed and flanked by two security guards, Clint wonders if this whole thing really is supposed to be an undercover mission or just a clever ploy to get rid of him. On the outside, he remains calm, but on the inside, he is torn between laughing hysterically at how dramatic that sounds, and being utterly terrified because as ridiculous as it seems, it might be a very real possibility.

 His first mission in ages that doesn’t involve Agent Coulson, and look where it gets him - a prison with windowless cells and a brain full of triggers that are just waiting to be set off.

 *+~

     “What the hell do you mean I will go undercover? None of this was discussed beforehand. None of this was prepared for, I didn’t sign any related paperwork or agree to any of those things in any way shape or form.”  

     Clint is glaring at the senior agent in front of him. This comes as a complete surprise to him - and they’re already on the quinjet. Agent Taylor decides that now is the perfect time to drop that bomb, after hours of preparation for a mission plan that apparently won’t happen that way. Taylor shrugs it off.  

     “Plans change. You should get used to that, Agent Barton. It’s easy. You get in, listen around and then report back. We’ll get you out when the time comes.”  

     “‘When the time comes’ I will kick your ass to Director Fury’s office. Sir.” he bites out, not even bothering to keep the venom out of his voice, not even bothering to try and make the ‘Sir’ sound like anything less than an insult - it may be unprofessional, but even more so is blindsiding and agent like that. It endangers lives and entire operations.  

     “You do that. Until then, follow your orders, Agent.” Taylor says, then turns on his heel.  

     It’s not like Clint has got a choice at this point.  

 *+~

 Cold dread runs down his spine when Clint realizes that this fucking  idiot has given them his real name. No fake identity, no nothing. It doesn’t help his suspicions that all of it was intentional on Taylors part at all.

 Did Fury approve of this? Does he know? Did he plan this? Questions run wild in his head, but Clint manages to keep his facial expression neutral. It looks like he will be on his own for this. Not for one second does he believe that they will move a single finger to get him out “when the time comes”.

 God, he hates this choice of words.

 The room around him is cold and sterile. There are four people besides him - all guards, tall and strong looking. If he wasn’t handcuffed, Clint could easily take on two of them, possibly even three, but as it is, his hands are bound and he doesn’t have any time to move and get himself in a position that’ll favor him. If he had time, he might have been able to attempt an attack - but it won’t help.

 Besides, he is supposed to go in and get the intel - not escape. He needs to remind himself of it, even when every single one of his instincts scream for him to make a move, do anything to stop this.

 Then he’s shoved against a wall.

 “Hands on the wall in front of you. Don’t move.”

 Clint doesn’t obey - a pathetic attempt to resist, even though he knows it won’t be of any use. Seconds later, he regrets it, when his entire body cramps under the sudden hit of electricity - one of the guards tased him.

 The pain hits him, and it feels much longer than it takes in reality - it always does.

 “Hands in front of you. Now.”

 The man who talks sounds bored, and there is not a hint of emotion in his voice. This is just another part of the job for him.

 Clint doesn’t want to, but he still does as he is told - he will have to get in, eventually, and he can��t afford any unnecessary injuries.

 ‘In case they won’t come get you’ he very carefully doesn’t think, but he works with that assumption. It’s better than depending on people who will happily sell him out like that.

 Clint would love to have Phil’s voice in his ear - he’s the only person he knows for certain he can trust, has proven it over and over again over the course of the 5 years that Clint has worked with him, almost exclusively.

 But as it is, Phil is on a deep cover mission of his own - which is why Clint was sent out into the field with Agent Taylor in the first place. He didn’t particularly like or trust the man from the start, which isn’t surprising to him at all. He’s still weary, unsure who he can really trust in this shady organisation of spies.

 Agent Coulson, he knows, is a rare and wonderful exception in this place filled with cold and calculated people - he cares, on a human and personal level. Coulson never lets his Agents down, and he certainly would never blindside them like Taylor just blindsided Clint.

 Phil Coulson would never in his life send an Agent into a mission that involves one of the very few things that they requested not having to do.

 It just so happens, that Clint has a past that is both dark and messed up in many ways. He’s made mistakes, some of which still haunt him. He’s been on the wrong side of the law, simply in order to survive.

 This isn’t the first time he’s been sent to a prison, either - 6 years ago, he’d assumed he’d either rot there or die an early death, before he was even old enough to legally drink.

 Back then though, he was told there was a visitor, and that fateful day was the first time he’s ever shook Phil Coulson’s hand and his life has changed for the better.

 He’d gotten a job, a home, and a new squeaky clean criminal record.

 Clint had actually been stupid enough to think it would last.

 But now, he’s back into one of those godforsaken sterile rooms, knowing exactly how this is going to go. His brain screams panic and he has to use all the self control and training he can find in himself as rough and uncaring hands remove his clothes, one after one in a swift and efficient motion.

 The cold air hits his skin, and then the same rough hands, covered in rubber gloves, start searching him for any hidden weapons. They search him thoroughly, so much so that he suspects they take their time in doing so on purpose, just because they can.

 This entire process is painfully humiliating, but the worst part is the complete loss of control. Clint is familiar with that, too, and he does his best to retreat back into the back corner of his head - the safe space where he can go when everything else just hurts and hits all the wrong buttons in his brain.

 Strange and unwanted hands all over him have been part of his life for too long - drunk foster parents, or even worse, the countless “customers” that visited the circus late at night, for something entirely different than a show in the big tent - Clint has learned early on to shove all emotions aside, deal with them later on,

 If and when he will be able to deal with all of this now, he doesn’t know. He still won’t allow himself to let any of it show -       they     will always come up with something worse if they notice that they actually get to him.

 Clint knows that, too.

 Then, he’s hit with the cold spray of disinfectant and can’t suppress a flinch at the sensation.

 “Get dressed.”

 Someone shoves a pair of pants and a shirt at him. Even though he longs for a bit of fabric shielding him from view and hands, the process of getting it on feels just as humiliating as being forcibly stripped.

 ‘Loss of control’ a voice in the back of his head supplies, and it is just that.

 When they walk him into the cell, Clint moves mechanically, not registering anything around him.

 ‘Focus’ he tells himself in the privacy of his mind, ‘Don’t forget your mission!’ but as it is, he is busy trying to not fall apart. ‘Keep it together’ the voice instructs, and he gives his best effort to do just that.

 He only looks up when the handcuffs are removed, and the door slams shut behind him. Several locks click into place.

 Clint expected a cold room in isolation, but as it is, there is another person already there, lazily sprawled on one of the thin cots.

 The man looks up, scruffy and unwashed, and there is a dark look in his eyes. When recognition hits him, the smile turns downright predatory, revealing brown and yellow teeth, and quite a few missing.

 Clint steps further into the room, and cold dread hits him once again, because he, too, recognizes the man in this cell. He keeps his face carefully closed off, but the alarm bells in his head are deafening.

 This is going to go badly - he just knows it.

 *+~

     Bingo Square: Forcibly Stripped  

*+~

Trigger warnings:

- violence - power imbalance - being forced into a triggering situation - references to childhood sexual abuse - references to forced prostitution - Trust issues - PTSD references - please let me know if you would like me to tag anything else

[jbbarnesnnoble]

Hello lovely people! And welcome to my first writting challenge. The aim of this challenge is to shine a light on mental health, medical conditions, and the things that can have impacts on us. This started out initially being a PCOS Awareness challenge but through conversations on the TCC discord, it’s become a challenge surrounding mental health in general. 

May is Mental Health Awareness Month. The goal of this challenge is to lift each other up, and show that it’s okay not to be okay. Spread some love and light during a challenging time in the world to those who struggle with chronic illness, depression, anxiety, self-esteem issues, grief, PCOS, acceptance from their families and communities for being LGBT+, and anyone struggling with insecurity. 

This challenge will run through September 15th, 2020. It will run through part of Mental Health Awareness Month, through Pride Month, and through part of PCOS Awareness Month. I probably have too many prompts, but I wanted to ensure that there was a wide array to choose from. 

The Rules:

1. Utilize resources available online if you’re dealing with subject matter you’re not that familiar with. I’m not going to go all “cite sources” on y’all, but please do make sure to do your research. Writing about some of these issues can be hard if you don’t have first hand knowledge of how it can affect you. The goal of this challenge is to write about topics that we tend to shy away from, that many of us struggle with, from mental health struggles to chronic illnesses to low-self esteem. A gentle reminder that if you think writing about a subject will be triggering for you, please look after yourself first. 

2. Use #JBBNNMHAMChallenge to tag your fic

3. Dark!Fic- I was up in the air on allowing dark!fic in the challenge. Due to the subject matter involved in this challenge, please don’t submit dark!fic. I enjoy dark fics, but this challenge isn’t the place for them.

4. Smut- Smut is welcome! Make sure you tag it appropriately. 

5. No inc*st, dubcon/noncon, underage, etc 

6. Ships- I prefer reader inserts, but show me what ya got 

7. Selecting Prompts: Just let me know which one you want to do! 2 people per prompt! The song prompts have a line from them under it. You DO NOT need to use the line in your submission! It’s mostly to help you decide if you’re interested in a song before you take a listen to it. The song prompts are broken down into ‘support’, ‘general’, and ‘grief’ but feel free to use them as you see fit. I categorized them mostly for organization 

8. Trigger Warnings: Use warnings as needed. Fics dealing with depression, anxiety, eating disorders, or other mental health issues should be tagged appropriately to ensure that readers that may be triggered by the subject matter can avoid the fic. Trigger warnings are non-negotiable

The prompts are under the cut! 

Prompts:

Dialogue Prompts:

“You never have to ask, you know that right? Say the word, and I’ll do it.” ( @whistlingwillows​ )

“Would you believe me if I said it’s because I love you? I’d give you the world if you asked.” ( @jbbuckybarnes )

“I promise you. One day, it will get easier. Those feelings might never fully go away, but it will get easier.” ( @imnotasuperhero​ )

“You ever feel like you can’t breathe? Like the whole world is collapsing in on itself and no one notices? No one cares? Like you can’t escape it?” ( @nekoannie-chan )

“It’d probably be easier if you left”

“Please leave me alone”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it. What part of that is hard for you to understand?” ( @sweetwritesx​ )

“I wish I could believe you when you said that.” ( @evansweaters ) 

“How do you even begin to move on?” ( @blackwidowballet )

“You sure about that, moonman?” 

“I don’t know. All I do know is I don’t belong here” (@buckybarnesplumwhore​)

“That’s not true. And I will tell you that every day of your life until you believe me.” 

Sentence Prompts:

Feel free to adjust the pronouns as needed 

It was a day. It was the only way it could be described.

The feeling stuck like super glue, unable to be shaken away with a few whispered words and comforting hugs. ( @buckybarney ) 

You never knew something could hurt like this, that emotional pain could resonate so strongly through every atom of your body. (@buckybarnesplumwhore​)

That smile. He/she missed that smile. ( @bethycupcake )

It was progress. Baby steps forward. Maybe it wouldn’t all be okay today, but someday? It would be. ( @trillian-anders ) 

The list of medications that had been tried seemed like it was a mile long. ( @buckyreaderrecs)  

If you had another condescending doctor tell you your problem wasn’t a problem you were going to scream. 

The warmth of the sun fell over you like a blanket in the middle of winter. ( @avintagekiss24 ) 

Today was going to be good. 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that this was going south. 

AU and Trope Prompts: 

Soulmate 

College

Childhood Friends

Friends to Lovers

Enemies to Lovers 

Musicians

Writer

Professional Athlete 

Teacher

Coffee Shop

Fake Dating

Accidental Marriage

Royal

Librarian 

Neighbors ( @shakespeareanqueer​ )

Song Prompts:

Support: 

1. Nobody Ever Told You - Carrie Underwood

Lyric Snippet: “Wish you could see yourself the way I do. Nobody ever told you, nobody ever told you. Shine like a diamond, glitter like gold, and you need to know what nobody ever told you” 

2. Missing You - All Time Low

Lyric Snippet: “And if you need a friend, I’ll help you stitch up your wounds. I heard that you’ve been, having some trouble finding your place in the world. I know how much that hurts. But if you need a friend, then please just say the word.” 

3. Barefoot and Bruise - Jamestown Story Lyric Snippet: “Maybe when your sky comes crashing down, I can be your angel on the ground. If you get tired and can’t go on, I will carry you along, when the rocks below your feet wear out your shoes, when you’re barefoot and bruised” 

4. Hold On Till May- Pierce the Veil Lyric Snippet: “If were you, I’d put that away. See you’re just wasted and thinking about the past again. Darling, you’ll be okay.” 

5. This Song Saved My Life - Simple Plan Lyric Snippet: “You let me know like no one else that it’s okay to be myself” ( @captain-kelli​ ) 

General: 1. It Feels Like - 1551 Lyric Snippet: “No I’m not fine, every second is a record of why, I live my life never doing things right” 

2. Sunrise - 1551 Lyric Snippet: “Nightmare that’s not gonna stop, it’s darkness you’re not gonna stop” 

3. Home - Machine Gun Kelly, X Ambassadors, Beba Rexha Lyric Snippet: “All these miles, feet, inches, they can’t add up to the distance that I have been through just to get to a place where even if there’s no closure I’m still safe. I still ache from trying to keep pace. Somebody give me a sign, I’m starting to lose faith”

4. Broken Arrows - Daughtry  Lyric Snippet: “The best of intentions I lay at your feet. And I need you to see past the worst part of me.”

5. Used - Serious Matters  Lyric Snippet: “The wounds are gone and the pain still lingers. But this time I won’t stand by, I don’t need you in my life”

6. Unsteady - X Ambassadors  Lyric Snippet: “Hold on to me, ‘cause I’m a little unsteady, a little unsteady” ( @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​ )

7. Let It Land - Tonight Alive Lyric Snippet: “And everything we hate is something we just bought along the line” 

8. Cold As You - Taylor Swift Lyric Snippet: “You put up walls and paint them all a shade of grey. And I stood there loving you and wished them all away. And you come away with a great little story, of a mess of a dreamer with the nerve to adore you” 

9. Tied Together with a Smile - Taylor Swift Lyric Snippet: “Hold on, baby you’re losing it. The water’s high, you’re jumping into it, and letting go, and no one knows. That you cry but you don’t tell anyone that you might not be the golden one. And you’re tied together with a smile, but you’re coming undone.” 

10. Human Interaction - Tonight Alive Lyric Snippet: “I don’t know love. I don’t know hate. I am numb. Wish I could find the words to say. Asking please, as colors fade. I need to breathe. Before I turn the world to grey.” 

Grief: 

1. Jersey On the Wall (I’m Just Asking) - Tenille Townes 

Lyric Snippet: “If I ever get to heaven, you know I got a long list of questions. Like how do you make a snowflake, are you angry when the earth quakes? How does the sky change in a minutes, how do you keep this big rock spinning? Why can’t you stop a car from crashing? Forgive me, I’m just asking” 

2. Five More Minutes - Scotty McCreery

Lyric Snippet: “Time rolls by, the clock don’t stop. I wish I had a few more drops of the good stuff, the good times. Oh, but they just keep on flying right on by like it ain’t nothing, wish I had me a, a pause button. Moments like those, Lord knows I’d hit it. Give myself five more minutes” 

3. Dad’s Old Number - Cole Swindell

Lyric Snippet: “Sometimes I forget, these ten digits ain’t my lifeline anymore. Every now and then I dial them up when life gets tough or when the Braves score. Sorry about the one ring hang ups, early morning and late night wake ups. It was just me. In case you wondered, you’ve got dad’s old number.” 

4. The Other Side - Lauren Alaina

Lyric Snippet: “There’s gonna be a lot of sadness on a lot of happy days, I’ll try to think of this moment, this place” 

5. I Was Here - Beyonce

Lyric Snippet: “So they won’t forget I was here. I lived. I loved. I was here. I did, I’ve done, everything that I wanted and it was more than I thought it would be. I will leave my mark so everyone will know I was here.” 

6. Gone Too Soon - Simple Plan

Lyric Snippet: “Like a shooting star, flying across the room. So fast, so far, you were gone too soon. You’re a part of me. And I’ll never be the same here without you. You were gone too soon.” 

7. Amelia - Tonight Alive

Lyric Snippet: “And you will always be perfect, you’ll always be beautiful, our hearts, will never forget you. You didn’t belong here, and it’s become so clear why heaven called your name.” 

[dominic-cruz]

paging dr. pearce-cruz.

TAGGING: @dominic-cruz & @ajpearce

LOCATION: The Hospital.

TIME FRAME: Late July 16th into July 17th. 

NOTES: After Dominic gets mugged, he finds out that he and AJ are still married. 

TRIGGERS: Mentions of: stabbing, blood loss, surgery, etc. Nothing’s descriptive, but there are slight mentions. 

AJ PEARCE 

It was a boring day at the hospital for AJ. She was just lamenting about how she hated doing charts when her Emergency attending comes walking by. Since it was such a slow day in cardio, Emerg asked for her services and so suddenly a boring day turned into yet another hellish day on Earth. She was so glad to be done with Emerge, but now here she is. Trying to fix people up without throttling them. Things were relatively normal until a new call came in, a stab victim, multiple wounds, apparently lost a lot of blood. Well, if she had any plans of going over to Ben's she's going to have to delay them by god knows how long.

DOMINIC CRUZ 

It had been a long day at work and Dominic was ready to go home and sleep until noon, preferably, but he'd stayed at the restaurant longer than he needed to just to help clean up. It was just who he was; he hated leaving extra work for others when he could easily help out. When they were done, he bid them a good night and made his way to his car. Perhaps he would've seen the two men had he not been so tired, but one thing led to the next and suddenly he was on the ground, losing blood along with his wallet. When they were gone, even though he was bleeding, he unlocked his car and pressed the emergency button on his dashboard. Someone would get there eventually, right? Things like this didn't happen in Sander's, and as he sat there against his car, making sure to nurse his wound in a way he'd learned from AJ, he couldn't help but think of her. He was always gonna think of her.

AJ PEARCE 

As the ambulance rolled in, AJ stood out by the bay waiting with her interns and her fellow residents. This was about as exciting as it gets in this town. Rarely anybody gets stabbed, compared to the gruesome things she got to see back in Columbia, this was easy peasy. When the ambulance finally stopped and the paramedics (she noted one of the brunette that kept flirting with her was on duty, Andrea, she thinks that's her name) rolled the gurney out and she rushed forward. As Andrea started on the info spill, she finally took a good look at the person lying on the gurney. 

Well shit. This cannot be happening. Of all the people in this shit hole that gets stabbed, it had to be Dominic. Pushing away the immediate wave of panic and worry and annoyance, she helped pushed the gurney into the ER bay and quickly secured first aid and asked a nurse to book an OR. When the attending came around and asked her to scrub in, for the first time in history, she had to say no. Of fucking course, Dominic had to ruin her chance of scrubbing into a surgery. "I can't. I can't operate on him." When her attending frowned and gave her a slight annoyed look, she sighed and bit out. "He's my husband." Nodding in understanding, her attending named another resident and off they went. AJ looked down at her bloodied hands and just stared. How did this day get so fucked up?

DOMINIC CRUZ 

Dominic didn't remember much as he slowly woke up, groaning as he tried to sit up and immediately realizing he wasn't in his own bed and that he was, in fact, in a hospital bed. He closed his eyes, trying to think back on what happened the night before. He'd been at work, yes, and then he'd helped out after closing... right? Or had that been another day? Whatever had happened to him couldn't have happened at work, though. He was in pain, his abdomen was killing him, and even though he'd had some small accidents at work, he'd never ended up at the hospital. The last time he was at the hospital, he'd... Fuck. In a fresh rush of panic, he looked down at his leg, which seemed... perfectly fine. Or as fine as it would ever be. 

And then he saw a figure next to him. There was no way he wouldn't know who that was. Or perhaps he was just seeing things he wanted to see, especially since he knew she worked there. It was just the pain meds or whatever they'd injected him with that was playing mind tricks. It wasn't her. Hell, AJ probably didn't even know or care if he was in the hospital. It wasn't her. It couldn't be her. It was just a trick. She didn't care about him. 

"What happened?" Dominic asked, his voice foreign to his own ears as he spoke to the nurse who'd just walked in. "How'd I get here?"

AJ PEARCE 

After Dominic was sent into surgery, AJ left to go fill out paperworks for him. She didn't know if he had insurance, but given how he's legally still her husband, hers should cover him. If not, she'll just get him to pay her back when he's awake. She kept herself busy while Dominic is in the OR, she ran between gurneys and finished so much paper work that if she wasn't so stupidly worried, she would've been impressed with herself. When Dominic finally got out of surgery and was moved to a room, she stayed even though her shift was over and she was supposed to be meeting Ben like four hours ago. Fuck, remembering that she was supposed to meet Ben, she quickly fired off a few texts to him and Marissa, claiming that there's an emergency at the hospital and she won't be home. 

Watching Dominic sleep was weird. It's been so long since she's done it, but the more she looks at him, the more he looks like the same man she fell in love with all those years ago. Maybe he didn't really change all that much. Knowing he won't be waking up anytime soon, she brought some charts into the room and settled in the uncomfortable chair next to Dominic's bed. 

Unbeknownst to her, AJ had fallen asleep on the side of the bed sometime last night. When Dominic woke up, he woke up to the sight of AJ slumped over the edge of the bed, resting her head on her folded arms and an older nurse coming in to change his dressing. "Well, good morning to you, mister Cruz." The nurse said with a warm smile. "How are you feeling?"

DOMINIC CRUZ 

"Like shit." Dominic answered the nurse and though he tried to smile, all he managed was a grimace and a weak groan. He placed his right hand on his abdomen, still unsure as to what had happened and how he'd ended up in the hospital. Dominic looked over at the sleeping figure next to him. She looked uncomfortable, slumped over and... he shook his head, glancing over at the nurse. He wanted to ask if he was just imagining things, but he figured he'd sound like a dumbass if he did. "Last time I felt like this I'd been tackled by 300 pound men. Feels different, though. Feels worse. And I'm high as fuck or else I wouldn't be seeing who I think I'm seeing sleeping over there." 

The nurse smiled at him, it seemed genuine to Dominic, so he figured he wasn't seeing things and she was actually there. "Your wife hasn't left your side since you came in." 

"Ex wife." He corrected her, though the nurse shook her head, still smiling at him. Not only was he seeing things, he was hearing things now too. The drugs they'd given him here were apparently stronger than the ones they gave him in DC. "Excuse me? She's my what now?"

AJ PEARCE 

"Dr. Pearce is your wife, no? She's been sitting there since you got out of surgery." The nurse tilted her head in confusion. Out of all the residents, the one with the least amount gossip was AJ Pearce, nobody knew much about her other than that she was from New York. "If you two were divorced, she didn't mention it at all. If anything, she was very insistent on not assisting on your surgery due to the fact that you two were married." The older nurse said as she went about freshening up Dominic. "And I'm very sure you're not high since you're feeling the pain." She chuckled. 

The sound of the nurse's chuckle was what woke AJ up. Snapping up from her slumped position, she looked around in alert. Her eyes snapped right to Dominic to make sure he wasn't dying, and when she saw him staring at her, she narrowed her eyes at him. "What? How much pain are you in right now? 1 to 10, 10 being completely incapable of moving."

DOMINIC CRUZ 

"I mean, she..." Dominic stopped before he even started saying anything, the nurse's words becoming too much as he furrowed his brows. She signed the papers, right? This was just some ploy so she wouldn't assist on the surgery because... she... but it didn't make any sense. She didn't care, so there wouldn't be conflict of interest if she helped out during his surgery. He'd be just another patient. "We..." he started talking again, but his mind was playing tricks on him or something. "I... don't know if she ever signed the papers." Dominic slowly realized, since he'd told his lawyer he didn't want to know anything about the divorce anymore; he'd told his lawyer to take care of everything. He figured since his lawyer hadn't said anything, everything had gone smoothly. Maybe his lawyer hadn't said anything because the divorce had never become official. "We're still married?"

When AJ spoke, all he could do was look at her. He ignored her question, although his pain was probably an 8 at the moment, coughing a few times as the words got caught in his throat. "Are we still married?"

AJ PEARCE 

AJ had no idea what Dominic and the nurse was talking about before she woke up, but judging from Dominic's question and the swift departure of that nosy nurse, it had to do with her marital status. She's kept this secret for so long, well, she's forgotten about being married for a good few years. She was perfectly fine with Dominic thinking they were already divorced, it made life simpler. She was free to do whatever she wanted without worrying about Dominic's feelings -- not that she worries, because she clearly doesn't. 

Staring wordlessly at Dominic, AJ took a deep breath after a few minutes before looking away. "....Yes, we are. Legally anyways."

DOMINIC CRUZ 

This was too much. Not only was he in excruciating pain and still confused as to how he ended up in the hospital, but he was being told that he and AJ were still married. They were still husband and wife. "We're still... we're still married?" It wasn't a bad thing, not at all, it was just surprising. She'd been adamant about the fact that they were nothing to each other, so he figured it was because they were nothing. That wasn't the case, though. In the eyes of God and the law, they were still married. "Holy shit..." Dominic let out a deep breath, sitting back down against the pillow and closing his eyes as he tried to calm down. He was in pain, sure, but this was too much to handle right now. "We're still married." Dominic repeated, jaw clenching, angry that he didn't know until now but simultaneously relieved that they were. "Hold on. Can we talk about it when I'm not... here. Why am I here?" He paused, eyes closed though a smile pulled at his lips. "You were worried about me."

AJ PEARCE 

AJ cleared her throat and ignored the giant elephant in the room. "You were attacked last night, the police will here to get your statement later. Do you remember anything at all?" She stood up from her seated position next to the bed and walked over the end of the bed. "You were stabbed, idiot. I think anyone would worry about their ex-husband if they were stabbed." Frowning at his idiocy, of course he would be cracking jokes when the timing is wrong. He's one of the dumbest people she happens to know after all.

DOMINIC CRUZ 

Dominic furrowed his brows, trying to think of what had happened last night, but everything seemed like a blur. "Not really. Guess I was attacked after work or something. I don't remember anything after I got outta work." And it was true. Though he wanted to know how he'd ended up in the hospital - stabbed, apparently - he couldn't, for the life of him, remember a damn thing. "Husband." Dominic corrected her, similarly to how he'd corrected the nurse earlier. "You were worried about me." he repeated, the smile growing. Dominic turned to look at her, "thank you. Means a lot that you stayed. So... thank you."

AJ PEARCE 

AJ felt like a blush creeping onto her cheeks but she bit down hard on her teeth. So maybe she did worry about Dominic and stayed up all night making sure he was still breathing but that doesn't mean anything. It doesn't. "You should let your friends know that you're in the hospital. I should get back to work anyways." She said in a rush.

DOMINIC CRUZ

"Why don't you stay a little bit?" Dominic said quietly, a soft suggestion that showed where his head was at and how he hoped she would stay. They didn't need to talk, they didn't need to do anything, but having her there would help him feel better after everything. "If the cops are gonna come, you should stay." He was so transparent, anything but subtle. "If they question me a little too much, you could tell them to fuck off or somethin'. No one's gonna fuck with you. We both know that." He paused for a second, thinking back on the conversation they'd had a couple of days ago while he was drunk. That seemed like so long ago, given the circumstances. "Stay."

AJ PEARCE 

AJ really really shouldn't stay. She's got no reason to stay. He's awake now and there are other medical staff who can take care of him just as well. He doesn't need her there -- not really anyways. But to hear him say 'stay' tugged at her heart string. It would be poetic justice if she walked out right now considering how he didn't stay for her. But she couldn't bring herself to really leave him, not when he's looking all pale and broken on the bed. "...Fine." She said reluctantly, slowly walking over back to the chair where she spent the night on. "You'll be fine, you know that right? It's just a flesh wound, you might get a cool scar later to show off but that's about it. You're fine."

DOMINIC CRUZ 

Although he could tell she was fighting some internal battle over this, AJ reluctantly agreed to stay. Dominic immediately smiled at her as she walked back to the chair where she'd stayed the night, making himself comfortable even though the pain in his abdomen made the simple task increasingly difficult. "It's all about the battle scars, right?" Slowly, he reached for her hand, expecting for her to pull away but when she didn't, he smiled to himself. He'd take it. It was a small victory, and he was sure she was staying mostly out of pity and not because she actually cared all that much, but he'd take it.

AJ PEARCE 

She had forgotten how often she would feel the need to roll her eyes around Dominic. Maybe he really didn't change all that much. AJ closed her eyes and tried very hard not to smile, because god, this ridiculous man is still so cute. "Some chicks dig it, some just thinks it's a shoddy job on the doctor's side, so guess you can take your chances." She said, letting her lips curl up into a smile. Looking down at their joint hands, her first instinct was to hold tight instead of pulling away, if Marissa learned about this, she would kill her. "Rest, you'll be doing it for the next week or so, so you might as well learn how to do it now." She said softly while looking into Dominic's eyes. "I'll be here."

DOMINIC CRUZ

Dominic allowed himself to look at her and smile to himself as he noticed every time she tried not to smile. He'd memorized her features long ago, all the tell tale signs of happiness or sadness, but especially the signs of when she thought he was somewhat amusing but didn't want to let him know. This was one of those times. He didn't say anything though, but he refused to look anywhere else but at her. Nothing mattered to him except for this. Though he had other things to worry about, like the fact that he'd been attacked last night, everything took a backseat to the fact that he and AJ were still married. "Thank you" he repeated again, though he wasn't sure what he was thanking her for anymore - for staying? For not signing the divorce papers? Whatever it was, all he could say was thank you.

[thecloserkin]

fic rec: there Minos stands, hideous and growling, examining the sins of each newcomer by houselannister

fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones

pairing: Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister

word count: 6k

Is it canon: yes

Is it explicit: yes

Is it endgame: yes

Is it shippable: yes

Bottom line: choo choo all aboard the pain train to Valonqar City

Cersei Lannister was born to be a Hollywood icon. Film is the family business, but there has never been any doubt which is the goose that lays the golden egg:

The woman is the money. Not Tywin Lannister, safe behind his big mahogany desk. Not Jaime Lannister, safe behind his heavy camera. Not Tyrion Lannister, safely hidden behind his books and papers and pretty words.

Can you imagine Cersei’s sheer star power? The sun is setting on the golden age of Hollywood, and here stands Cersei in all her raw uncompromising glory. The thing I love about this line, The woman is the money, is how it DIRECTLY contradicts this assessment of her from Littlefinger in canon:

“Her strength rests on her beauty, birth, and riches. Only the first of those is truly her own, and it will soon desert her.” (Sansa VI, ASOS)

Obviously we all stan Cersei Lannister as a character, but as far as her actual social position in Westeros? Littlefinger ain’t wrong. She has no independent source of power; the only way for her to wield power is through men. Now if there is one thing we learned from #MeToo it’s that people in front of the camera have a whole lot less power than the people behind the camera, and the people in C-suites wield more power still—nonetheless I think it’s clear that Cersei has a lot more leverage with Tywin & Lannister Studios than most workers do with their employers. It’s like how Taylor Swift can demand the rights to her backlist, or pull all her songs from Spotify—moves that artists with 1/100 of her cachet could never dream of pulling off. I just love that Cersei is the one breaking box office records, Cersei is the source of the family’s wealth and prestige. Without her Tywin’s whole business would be worthless.

We all know what happens to these kinds of stars, they go supernova and they fade fast. A downward spiral of drugs and alcohol. Cersei’s is triggered by the casting of Margaery Tyrell as Cleopatra in a new production—because brunettes are in vogue? Because Tywin owes Mace a favor? Doesn’t matter, Cersei flips the fuck out. But here unlike in canon her paranoia is not entirely unjustified; it’s not even misplaced. There really is a dearth of roles in Hollywood for women over a certain age. Cersei to Jaime upon hearing about the Cleopatra casting decision: I WANT THAT TWINK OBLITERATED.

The fic is Jaime POV (other than the prologue, which does that omniscient-Victorian-narrator trick of setting the mood and does it gloriously) and the main thing to understand about Jaime the Academy-Award-winning filmmaker is that his skillset puts him firmly under his father’s thumb. There’s no option to join Aerys’s Kingsguard. Lannister Studios is the only game in town. There is no out for Jaime at all.

Cersei doesn’t like Tyrion, and Tyrion certainly doesn’t like Cersei, and there he is, between a rock and a hard place. The words are on the tip of his tongue, I just need her to be me again

THERE HE IS BETWEEN A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE aka my boy Jaime the only member of House Lannister who loves all the other members of House Lannister?? Oof. I JUST NEED HER TO BE ME AGAIN??? Double oof. Tyrion appears for like 5 seconds but this fic fucking nailed the Jaime-Tyrion dynamic, which is so underrated & important. Tyrion appears mainly in order to deliver the iconic “she's been fucking Lancel and Osmund Kettleblack and probably Moon Boy for all I know” line, and the revelation plays on loop in Jaime’s brain for the next however many days:

He doesn’t want Cersei, not tonight. She’s been fucking Osney Kettleblack. However, he wants no one but her for the rest of his life, and therein lies his problem.

Love is not a victory march and nobody messes with Jaime’s head the way Cersei does.

If he doesn’t see her ever again, he will be able to remember her golden, bathing in the pale moonlight. She will be a marble statue in the temple of his mind, an idol for prayer. She will be bright and beautiful and untainted.

Well GOODBYE WORLD. I love how this fic exploits the gap between who we are and who we try to be, between aspiration and effect, intention and performance. Jaime and Cersei are after all artists employed in an industry whose job is to make art and yet. Jaime suffers from the worst case of imposter syndrome I’ve ever seen, he’s literally walking around with an armful of Oscars and he’s like is any of this real?? Am I actually any good at my job??

Ok so when @azdaema recc’d me this fic using her very own proprietary Lannicest Taxonomy (“do you want ‘morning all golden and hopeful’ or ‘sunset all crimson and bloody’?”) I asked for the latter. And the tags for this fic literally read #VALONQAR UP IN DIS CLUB so I was duly warned. But I saved it to read later and I have a memory like a sieve and so when this happened I was genuinely wrecked:

In depriving her of oxygen, he feels, perversely, as if he’s claiming the very air for his own. He feels the life, her life, in him, because it’s his, his, and she never should have given it to anyone else.

i’m totally fine nobody touch me

[bittysvalentines]

Three Times Jack Zimmermann Saw Eric Bittle Without Meeting Him (Plus One Time Jack Didn't See Him but They Met Anyway)

From: @missweber

To: @n3rdyl4cy

Pairing: Eric Bittle/Jack Zimmermann

Tags: eventual meet cute, slow burn before ever meeting, implied homophobia, references to unsupportive parents, coming out, cameo appearance by Zdeno Chara, AU because real life NCAA rules apply, Jack didn't go to college, Bitty gets scouted by the Falconers

Summary: Jack saw Eric Bittle for the first time over a year before they actually met, but it was still as if someone had set a match to a fuse that would burn slowly but inevitably until it reached its end.

The first time Jack saw Eric Bittle was the February of his third year with the Falconers. It wasn't in person, but it was enough for Jack to have a flash of he's cute that was harder to shove back down than it should have been, especially since the photo Tater texted him was kind of hilarious.

Tater was at the Beanpot tournament with Thirdy and some pals from the Bruins and kept texting Jack updates and photos of the game.

Jack could have asked him to stop, but that would involve explaining why thinking about college hockey inevitably set him off balance and got him lost in a world of what ifs.

But then a photo came through that triggered three reactions in swift succession:

What the hell?

Ha ha, that's pretty funny.

Huh. He's cute.

The picture was of two people. One was a Samwell player, flushed and grinning even though his team had just lost the championship round to Boston College in overtime. The other was Zdeno Chara.

The Samwell player barely came up to Chara's shoulder even though he was on skates and Chara wasn't. According to Tater, the player (#15, Eric Bittle, Junior) was only five foot six to Chara's six foot nine and was 'quick like bunny!'

Jack tried to focus on what kind of speed a player like that would have to have play Division I hockey and not end as a smear against the boards, but he kept getting drawn to the sunny smile and the dark eyes that were unusually striking paired with honey blond hair.

Cute. And he kind of looked like Kenny.

But Kenny had never smiled like that.

An ex-girlfriend used to send him borderline explicit selfies when he was on the road. Those pictures had made him smile, but Jack had never found himself staring at them like this.

Jack put the phone down and forced himself to count breaths until he stopped shaking.

Once he could trust himself, he responded to Tater with a haha.

Then he deleted the photo and the entire text thread along with it.

* * *

The second time Jack saw Eric Bittle was a little over half a year later, right in the middle of training camp. Like before, it was a photograph. This time, though, it came via his news feed.

Samwell University Selects First Openly Gay NCAA Division I Team Captain

The photo was obviously a headshot from the team's site, but the brilliant smile and warm brown eyes were as lively as if it had been a candid shot.

Jack didn't get to the article itself for ten minutes.

When he did, it wasn't what he was expecting. It was as bland and banal and calculated as any item that came from a team's PR shop. Generic sounding quotes, no sign of anything resembling a controversial opinion (other than the fact that a gay player merely existing was controversial in and of itself), no personality, no depth.

There were only two startling revelations in the article, neither of which was more than a mention with no further explanation.

One was that Bittle came from Georgia. That was definitely unusual, and Jack wondered how someone who was not only short and gay but Southern ever managed to get into hockey in the first place.

The other was that Bittle's team knew he was gay before they had voted him captain and had voted him in unanimously - which was the only time that had ever happened in the history of the team.

Jack figured the article was only the opening salvo. There would be follow-up interviews, no doubt. You Can Play would be all over it, and so would Sports Illustrated and ESPN.

All that happened though, as training camp ended and pre-season began, was that several opinion pieces came out and Jack added more names to his list of which reporters could and could not be trusted.

(The one article that went viral did so for the wrong reasons: it was a passionate, pompous, and self-important screed about gay rights in international sports that might have had more impact and less unintentional hilarity if the author had not been operating under the assumption that Bittle was from Georgia-the-country and not Georgia-the-state.)

Also, Kent texted Jack.

did u see the news?

Jack didn't reply and didn't read the other texts that followed. But he did tell George he needed to talk with her. Alone.

"I'm still not planning on coming out," he informed her right out of the gate.

"This is about the Samwell thing, isn't it?"

He nodded. He wished she hadn't put it quite that way. If NCAA hockey had been an option for him, Samwell would have been his top choice.

In retrospect, going to the Q had been a mistake in more ways than one. Thank God the Falconers had been willing to take a chance on him after rehab.

"Jack, I'm glad you trusted me all those years ago, but it honestly doesn't matter to me one way or the other if you come out now, or later, or never."

"I just..." He kept his eyes focused on the corner of her desk. "There are" - he circled his hand - "rumors."

Rumors. Gossip. A few photos he wished he could wipe from existence. Fanfic.

"You know I don't care about that, Jack."

He nodded, eyes still cut down and away. By never denying the rumors about him and Kent, he'd confirmed them for her, and he didn't know what to do about that. At least she was willing to maintain the polite fiction that she had no idea who Jack had dated back in the Q.

"Just... If You Can Play comes around and wants me to do another clip..." He blinked away the stinging in his eyes and why was this rattling him so much? "I don't feel like I can say no."

But what would he say if he said 'yes?' He couldn't offer other queer athletes any kind of advice that wasn't about hockey. But just existing would say so much in and of itself...

"I'm not ready but I should be ready, shouldn't I? Especially now."

"Jack. There's no should about it."

"But somehow this kid can be brave enough to come out, while I - "

George held up a hand to cut him off. She shook her head sadly. "I don't think he had a choice. This," she said, pointing to a copy of the article on her monitor, "is a pre-emptive strike. From what Martin Hall tells me, Bittle was out to his classmates and before he was on anyone's radar as a top prospect. And apparently, his online presence wasn't at all discreet and he has a sizable following. Hall said Bittle decided it was better to get the story out on his own terms before someone put two and two together and made a call to Deadspin or worse."

Jack understood. It would only take one picture from 2009, one recollection from a team-mate, to get the story out of his hands or Kent's. He should think about getting ahead of things, but...

... he wasn't ready. He wasn't sure he ever would be.

* * *

The only reason Jack didn't see Bittle again until March was because he had his own hockey to focus on. Then finally, the annual nightmare of the trade deadline finally passed and speculation started churning about what might happen after the playoffs.

Free agent frenzy technically didn't start until July, but there was a lot of early buzz about the young men who would be coming out of the NCAA and where in the NHL they might go.

One of these young men was Eric Bittle. There was more talk about whether Bittle was too small for the NHL than whether he was too gay for the NHL, but Jack still avoided watching the video clips Tater kept trying to show him.

(He couldn't explain why he avoided watching them any more than he could explain why he only sometimes responded to Kent's texts, but he suspected it came from the same dark place in his mind.)

And then Samwell made it to the Frozen Four. Jack didn't watch, but he felt a thrill of vindication when he heard that the Wellies (and Bittle) won.

Maybe Bittle would sign with an NHL team or maybe he wouldn't, but the short, gay, Southern kid had scored the game-winning goal in the NCAA championships, and it felt like something in the world had shifted and wasn't going to shift back.

Jack was still mulling it over when he arrived at the practice facility that morning, and George had to shout at him twice to get his attention.

"Jack, can you come in here a moment?"

The request brought the usual spike of anxiety even though he knew nothing awful was likely to happen. He followed George into her office.

"I thought you would want to hear this from me before you heard it from anyone else."

Jack's breath froze halfway up his throat. He had no idea what his face must have looked like, but George patted the air in front of her as if the soothing motion would reach him. "It's okay, it's okay, it's nothing bad, but I didn't want you caught unprepared. Did you watch the NCAA finals yesterday?"

Jack shook his head. George didn't seem surprised, and he wondered what she'd put together about him when he started looking into online degrees.

"I want you to take a look at this." She turned her monitor so he could see it. A video clip played. In it, a small player with the number 15 on his back zipped between opposing players like a destroyer through a fleet of battleships.

The third time Jack saw Eric Bittle was the first time he actually saw him play hockey.

"Play it again," he rasped once the clip was done. This time, he watched while knowing what to watch for. The way Bittle read the ice. The way he sent the puck unerringly not to where his liney was but to where his liney would be. The way he was obviously reluctant to take a hit, but had turned that avoidance into a weapon, with one feint in particular sending one Denver player crashing into the boards and his teammate plowing into him a half-second later.

The soft hands. Eyes that were as full of determination as they were of fear.

"He might need a year in the AHL first - trust me, you'll plotz when you hear how much hockey he didn't play before college - but can you imagine having that on your line?"

He could. Very much so. "And you're telling me first because..."

She sighed. "Because you're my friend as much as you are one of my players, and I keep thinking about that first conversation we had about Bittle, and about what it would mean to come out. When or if you decide to be out is one hundred percent up to you. I know you're out to a few people on the team, but I wanted to make damned sure you know that if we sign Bittle, it does not mean I'm expecting anything from you except to play damned good hockey and live the best life you know how to live. Got it?"

Jack nodded, swallowing hard and blinking the brightness from his eyes.

"Good. And if we sign Bittle and that brings any attention back to you that you don't want, we'll deal with it, okay?"

"Okay." His attention went back to the monitor, which was frozen on the moment when Bittle was hoisted into the air by two D-men who were each half again as big as he was. His expression was caught somewhere between joy, indignation, surprise, and... sadness?

He looked more closely. There were lots of other people on the ice. Parents, siblings. The goalie was openly sobbing on an older woman's shoulder. One of the two D-men holding Bittle had a woman in a hijab smiling up at him. The other had a gaggle of redheads crowding in around him.

It took him a moment, but he finally registered what he wasn't seeing. He thought about the 'pre-emptive strike' article, and how there had been so little press and no interviews or profile pieces that he could recall.

Jack may have had any number of issues with his own parents over the years, but they had always, always, always been there for him.

And in many ways, they had been there for Kent as well, even during the dark times when he and Kent hadn't been talking at all.

"George?"

"Hm?"

"There's something I want to do, when you go meet with Bittle."

* * *

The first time Jack actually met Eric Bittle was at Samwell.

Maman and Papa would meet him at dinner, after Jack and George had finished talking business. Meanwhile, they were taking a nostalgia tour of campus.

"We're meeting Bittle at the hockey team's house," George explained. "I'm also hoping to talk to a couple of his teammates." She must have studied a map before they arrived because she set off like she knew exactly where she was going.

They crossed a quad that was bordered on one side by a pond. Jack wondered if it ever froze over hard enough to skate on. Knots of students were scattered on the grass, some studying, some napping. A lively pickup game of soccer ended abruptly when someone kicked the ball into the pond.

Jack could imagine himself in a place like this, but the imagining didn't hurt as much he expected.

Maybe it was because he had figured out somewhere along the line that not being able to play college hockey didn't mean he couldn't go to college one day.

Or maybe it was because something about this place, even though he had never been here before, felt like home.

George turned right just past the quad, but Jack missed it because he was watching the soccer players trying to retrieve their ball without getting in the pond.

And, of course, he plowed right into someone.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"

A slender (but still solid - Jack felt like he'd been checked) young man had landed on his ass. He had a phone in one hand, and a miraculously unspilled latte in the other.

The man tucked his phone into the back of some (very short) red shorts and reached out to take the hand Jack offered.

"I'm sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going - I've got this meeting I've got to get to and then I got a text so I thought..."

The honey-smooth drawl trailed off as the young man looked up to see who had knocked him over.

"Jack Zimmermann??"

Jack could feel the flush rise to his cheeks and was glad he couldn't see how red he must have been turning.

"Haha. Yeah. And you're Eric Bittle, eh?"

He was even cuter in person.

"Um..." Bittle seemed reluctant to let go of his hand. Jack could sympathize.

"Hello, Eric. I'm Georgia Martin - it's nice to finally meet you in person." George must have realized that Jack wasn't right behind her. "I hope you don't mind I brought company along. Did you still want to meet back at your house?"

"Oh! Yes!" Bittle reclaimed his hand, and headed off the same direction George had been going. "I made a pie for you - there should be enough for us all, even if Chowder - that's our goalie - comes home early."

George nodded in approval. If Chowder was Chris Chow, Jack knew she was hoping to speak with him, too.

"Pie, huh?" Jack asked.

Bittle nodded emphatically. "Yes, sir! I hope y'all like pecan pie," he said, pronouncing 'pecan' completely incorrectly.

Jack couldn't help teasing. "Bittle. You need to eat more protein if you're going to be in the NHL."

Bittle gasped in exaggerated shock. "You did not just say that to my face!"

"I said it to all of you," Jack deadpanned. "Not that there's a lot to say it to, eh?"

Bittle's eyes narrowed, but the corner of his mouth twitched. "Why do I get the idea that you're going to be a whole lot of trouble, Mr. Zimmermann?"

"If you want trouble, wait until you meet my parents. They're joining us for dinner tonight."

It wasn't often that he started this kind of back-and-forth with someone so quickly. But something about it didn't feel quick.

It felt like a long, slow burning fuse that was first lit back when Tater sent that ridiculous picture had finally reached its end.

Meanwhile, Bittle started rambling on about how he really should make a second pie if he was going to meet someone's parents.

Jack fought back a smile. Tater was going to be so pissed he wasn't invited along.

"Sorry I'm babbling on like this, but this is one of the most exciting things that has ever happened to me!"

"I know what you mean, um, I mean, I remember what it was like when George came and talked to me."

George was a few feet ahead of them, but he could hear her roll her eyes.

"I don't know if you ever heard the story of how I joined the Falconers, but... well, I was in a rough spot. And I knew I would be safe with them. That I would feel safe with them."

"I'd love to hear that story sometime," Bittle said gently, reaching out to touch Jack's arm, then jerking his hand away quickly.

"I'd love to tell it to you." He didn't quite reach out to Bittle, but it was easy enough to let the back of his hand knock against Bittle's as they walked along.

It would have been nice to do more, to promise more, or just say more, but he wasn't ready for that.

"I wasn't expecting to meet you today, but I'm sure glad I did." Bittle smiled let his hand brush tentatively against Jack's in return.

Some other time, Jack might have said out loud what he was thinking, that it felt like he knew Bittle, like he knew this place, knew what it was like to walk side by side with him. Like part of him already knew what it was like not to walk hand in hand, but half embracing as they walked back to Bittle's house.

No, he wasn't ready for anything like that, not yet, but for the first time it was easy to imagine a time when he would be.

[calleo-bricriu]

I mean, inevitably, you’ll catch me.

(( Cleaned up set of threads with @absintheabsence ; minor edits for spelling/clarity. This is definitely one of those stories Calleo should not tell @lamentedhope because that poor man is stressed enough as it is.

This would have been mid August, 1990. ))

“Hold still, I’m nearly finished-“ he murmurs it almost crossly, slightly muffled- his fingers twist again twice or so before he is satisfied enough to take the twine from his teeth, and he ties the braid in place with a complex series of knots. “There, now.” He gives the tail of it a gentle tug, before bending his silvered head to kiss the bottom most curl, just once. “Pretty as a rosebud.”

“If I’m any more still, I’ll have to stop breathing and even then parts of me are still going to move.” That was probably a lie but, if nothing else was clear at the moment, it was that Calleo seemed to never really be entirely still.

Something was always moving, at least a little bit.  He did, however, stop talking for a few seconds as that, at least, was likely to keep his head still for the moment.

When there was implicit permission to move again, Calleo turned around and canted his head, “If you somehow weren’t already aware, the only time I tie it back is if I’m expecting a duel.”

“That,” a stupidly playful grin that most definitely reached his voice left no question as to what he was skirting around directly asking, “is something you can interpret as you wish but, for the record: Nothing lethal within twelve hours of a hit, nothing permanently disfiguring, nothing permanently debilitating, anything else I can patch up myself.”

“Don’t humour me, and don’t patronise me, just fuck me up. I want to see how long it takes.”

It begins in a white-hot flash of teeth and anticipation before Calleo hits the floor for the first time, coming down hard on cracked stone. Grindelwald was on his feet faster than he ought to be given his age and the condition Calleo found him in, but then again, he’d been eating better these days.

The cherry wand moved in that gnarled old hand like a whip- of course, of course he would lead with the Cruciatus. Test the defenses with a brutal series of hooks and barbs that fall into a rhythm- short, short, long, short, long, short-

The younger man’s skin is steaming as though he’d been hit by lightning when he hears the Dark wizard speak, his voice barely more than a breath.

“Pretty little bird- I will do more than that. I am going to tear you apart.”

The first moment Calleo could do anything besides remembering to breathe, he laughed; a breathy, ragged laugh, but still a laugh.

“Do that again, only this time, at the end, turn the hooks around opposite, interlock them, then,” he gestured upward with a slightly shaky hand, “up, and apart. It’s much worse that way.”

He didn’t wait for a second hit, despite knowing it’d be an inevitability. The warding in the rooms may have prevented apparating out of the building (or even the room) but it didn’t stop it from within the room and that was the quickest way to get into a less direct position.

Behind would have been too obvious, and off to either side? Likely expected as well. Instead, he disappeared from the floor in a whirl of black, reappearing instantly directly in front of the older Wizard, “Don’t tell me, show me.”

A quick, vivid flash of red that seemed to be a strangely modified version of a blasting curse came off more as a distraction than an attempt at a point blank hit. Considering the first dumb thing that came out of his mouth, Calleo at least realised he probably ought to–for now–remain defensive, or at least try to dodge by keeping it easy to break line of sight.

Not that it’d do any good.

The wards covering the inside of the room did not seem the least bit pleased at the interaction; several had sprung to life, coiled and waiting to be allowed at what they were guarding, and were…immediately disarmed by Calleo with one gesture, the second wave of his wand killed all of the lighting, including any that might have dared to leak in from one of the windows, leaving the room unnaturally dark. One of Braxford’s spells.

The next cast was aimed partially on sound, partially on memory as to where Gellert had been standing prior, though Calleo didn’t intend to actually hit him, assuming he’d have moved by now. It did, however, tear a path through the stone floor, acting more as magical scattershot.

Grindelwald ducked down with the burst of red heat that flew past, shredding fingernails in its wake, singing hair; it’s knocked aside a split second later, but his knuckles are already smeared and burning. Back in the day, he’d dropped men that stood against him by the dozen without taking a scratch, but who’s to say what he’ll allow now when he needn’t fear shedding a little blood?

A heartbeat passes, words moving through the space between them, and the cell is drained of every last drop of light. The two might as well have been at the bottom of the ocean, might as well have been six feet underground. He can taste the drop in pressure as the warding designed to quell prisoner uprising is snapped apart, can feel it crackling in his ears, the air stinging his insides as he pulls in breath after shuddering, joyful breath.

Then comes the current through the floor like a small earthquake; in the next blink of an eye (unseen, of course) he’s atop the rickety desk, and the hiss of a thought from him is enough to stop it creaking under his weight.

The fellow knows what he’s doing, he’ll give him that much.

Grindelwald is more than disposed to take the clever thing’s advice- he’s a glutton for punishment, naturally, but it’s more than that, he knows, oh yes, does he ever know- but not right away.

(And it’s more than advice, he knows that too; candidly telling a body the things you want, the things you need in these intimate kinds of situations, especially with someone new, is something the importance of which just cannot be overstated.)

Delayed gratification is always the most delicious kind.

A vicious, swift movement of his wand hand like the serrated edge of a knife brings phantom teeth clamping down on the softest parts of the body, the most vulnerable, targeted even as they still lay trembling after the latest Unforgivable- the backs of the knees, the tender points behind the ears, the webbing of the fingers and toes.

-and there, right on the heels of it, right there is something new, something invasive and wrong, slipping in under the skin through the smallest of lacerations and beginning to move.

The desk gave away the other occupant’s position fairly easily, though Calleo knew he wasn’t bound to stay there for long.

Before he had a chance to take another shot–things–began biting at him. A sharp intake of breath was the best Grindelwald was going to get out of him for that. Calleo was rarely loud in any regard, after all.

While one part of him quickly ran through potential counters to whatever magic was biting and clawing at him, Calleo reoriented himself in an attempt to keep tags on where the spells were coming from.

Even spells that didn’t leave a direct trail of light to follow had a direction based on how and where they hit.

The movement under the areas that spell had been chewing, Calleo had to admit, was highly startling. He was also well trained enough not so much in dueling but in fighting to know that if he let it keep him still he was only making himself a bigger target. The things moving, to him, felt more unpleasant and terribly, terribly wrong than they did painful and it took a good amount of mental wherewithal to work on stopping (or worse, removing) whatever was happening while still paying majority attention to the actual duel at hand.

Calleo hadn’t heard any other movement and assumed Grindelwald hadn’t moved from the desk, but he wasn’t about to take that risk. Instead of adding light–and making himself an easier target–to the room, he re-activated and triggered one of the prison’s locating wards and had it do exactly what it was meant to do: Find its prisoner.

The next spell lit the room yellow for the split-second it took it to reach Grindelwald. As it passed the other Wizard, missing only by a fraction of an inch, the locating ward went dead, and the wall behind him simply was gone.

Not quietly, not disappeared, the explosion rocked the entire foundation of the tower and the curse itself didn’t just detonate an explosion, it continued chewing its way through the walls, causing the ceiling and roof they held up to waver and collapse not to rubble, but to a fine dust that laid dead where it fell; not even movement stirred it as it would regular dust, and, seconds later ate its way down to the floor.

The warding it chewed up in its path flared once the curse came close, then were torn apart as it passed.

Interestingly, it didn’t seem to be mindless destruction as the warding that was left dimly lit and crossed the empty air where its walls and floors used to be, filling them back in so escape from the prison still remained an annoying impossibility. Still, the specific negating and defensive warding had been left disarmed. Present, but off for the moment.

When it coiled back around toward Grindelwald, the colour gradually faded from yellow to a red that manifested itself as less a colour and more of a feeling; a vicious, burning cold, in spite of the color. It detonated near him at an angle Calleo was decent enough to make sure would knock him back toward the parts of the room that still had a functioning floor.

In its wake, the curse left a seething, grasping cold that did not dissipate the magic did. Anyone that crossed the path it had taken would be aware of the lingering presence.

Now, Calleo needed some time to put some distance between them and see if he could figure out if there were actual creatures ‘crawling’ in him or if it was an unsettling spell that wasn’t really causing any lasting damage.

The room, despite the violent removal of three walls, most of the roof, and half of the floor, remained dark.

That spell neither of them had moved out of the way. Yet.

Calleo knew full well how to end Braxford’s spell, but there was little fun in that. Instead, a swirling movement from his wand produced what would have been a spectacular Fiendfyre–if either of them could have seen it in the darkness. Being what it was, it was a certainty that they could both feel it, however.

Calleo didn’t stick around after the remainder of the room had been turned into a wall of black, magical flame, and disapparated, still running through anything he might know to counter what was, to him, unknown magic. If it weren’t so unsettling, he’d be impressed, but there would be time for being impressed by it later and after it wasn’t doing–whatever it was doing to him.

The door to the cell had, of course, been left opened and disarmed.

Blinded for that fraction of an instant, the old tyrant had fallen through to the stairway below, his shoulder and his hip coming down hard on merciless corners of stone; he bites back a swear now, and, as always, gets right back up again. Reactions not quite what they used to be, but that’s only to be expected.

The tower is broken, the walls are gone-

Not in decades has he breathed the night air without gasping out through the bars on a window narrower than the span of his hand like a man drowning.

They are gone-

Since he has known the bitter tang of this kind of cold, however, this particular taste of red that is more visceral than any mere word could ever tell you- that has been even longer still. The ringing absence that Excidium left in its wake, breathless and profound, was always something that could be felt in the teeth.

He never could have walked out that door of his own free will. Perhaps his new companion knew this. But either way, the choice has been made for him. The Blutmondhaarig have always been deliverers of fortune, good and ill; Grindelwald was all but ravenous with the thought of where this one might lead him, this one who bursts open the world when every way has been shut already.

His own curse is a lingering thing, line of sight or no; he can feel it as it does its good work. In former days, he had used it on hunts, and really this isn’t quite so different. It surges, carrying the sensation of strong fingers with their nails out sliding through muscle, through and through and all the way down to the bones, pressing deep and shoving apart. As it is, it makes movement difficult, but if he breathed another word it would have the power to render the clever Calleo Bricriu into something ready for a spit and a slow…

The Fiendfyre erupted spectacularly over his head, snatching the moisture from the air, from his mouth, from his eyes- but Grindelwald does not turn his face away, does not try to protect those parts of him that have grown so soft and brittle; he instead sets his teeth, seething through the broken gaps.

Lashing the wand whose old master’s handiwork this is, he captured the tail of the crackling, roaring beast, and draws it in. This he forges into coils of scorching rope, lurid and bright. His bony chest is heaving.

“Find him,” he tells it in a low hiss, and sends it firing off in the wake of an arrow that Bricriu ought to consider something of an old friend, if his writings are anything to go by.

The Skincrawl grows greedier, crueler, inner parts twisting and tugging and bleeding- until it finds its mark. Hungry tendrils snap tight around and bind him, ankle to ankle, wrist to waist, and the man is dragged down, down into the dark where Grindelwald stands waiting.

The chance that that fiery curse would harmlessly pass over him if he was dragged to the ground was…about at zero. There was a chaser on it, it would follow until it hit and a hit would be unpleasantly lethal.

Calleo had a split second to decide if he could maybe figure out a quick way out of whatever the unfamiliar spell trying to bind and drag him was or, while he could still move, at last knock the Sagitta Debilitatem off of the Fiendfyre; at that point, it might continue on it the direction it was going–and there was no guarantee he’d get that charm off of it before it had aimed itself properly at him.

Not really a tough decision, all things considered. He couldn’t fully move, but he could move enough to get that charm off the front of the curse and let himself fall to the stone floor as gracefully as possible–which really wasn’t very graceful at all, considering how little he could move.

The Fiendfyre itself hit and spread along one of the walls, burning through the warding and part of the alarm structure there. Wonderful! Except–not particularly.

Leaving that unchecked would be a problem, and was already causing the wards that hadn’t been burned out to regroup and rearm, again, focusing their aim on the prisoner they were designed to subdue.

He still had some movement in his hands, which he probably should have used to try and break himself free but, instead, he aimed it at those stupid wards that kept threatening to end the game as they weren’t quite smart enough to know that it was a game. They were reacting as they were designed, and as they were designed was inconvenient, Calleo shut them off.

They’d have to deal with the fire later as, now. Calleo couldn’t move at all, unless continued questionable decision making landed either of them on the idea of, “Hey, Ashwinders!”

Calleo had figured out, the moment whatever this was started doing what it was doing, that struggling against it would probably make it worse; no reason to think that beyond that was how these sorts of spells generally worked.

Most of them were a lot less unpleasant if you didn’t struggle.

So, he didn’t.

He let himself be dragged back to Grindelwald and, not wanting to let the other Wizard even get the slightest of ideas that this was over, “Too old to chase me, hm? I can slow down, if you’d like.”

Calleo knew damn well that was a stupid thing to say, which is entirely why he said it. He was more than aware that whatever was about to hit him would now likely be even worse than if he’d kept his mouth shut. For as much as the unpleasant spell binding him would let him, he relaxed; these things were always worse if one was tense, after all.

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 34

Chapter Summary -   Taylor's new song causes Danielle to wish she was a more physically aggressive person, but she keeps herself calm.

When Luke turns up on set, slightly miffed, his annoyance is quickly diverted from Danielle and Tom's relationship to Taylor, leading to him getting to know Danielle even better, what does he think of Tom's new flame?

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog  @jessibelle-nerdy-mum@nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

It took every fibre of restraint in Danielle’s being to not want to go over and slap that smarmy tart across the face as she gave the Safety Officer a sickeningly sweet false smile on her entered the set for everything she had said of Danielle and of Tom. Danielle remained right next to the head of the studio, who of course, would not miss the opportunity to suck up to the famous pop star. It was her best defence, knowing from Taylor’s demeanour that she would relish in getting Danielle fired.

“Well then, Ms Hughes, this is the placements for everyone, is there any issue?” the producer and choreographers asked.

Scanning the plans, her eyes widened. “You can’t do this.”

“And why not?” Taylor demanded, “Just because it hasn’t been done before doesn’t mean it can’t. That is the difference between an artist and some set worker, you lack the vision to do something like this.”

“Actually, I am sorry to inform you, Ms Swift, this is not a revolutionary idea, it has, in fact, been done ad nauseum. The issue here is not the inability to do it, but the safety factors involved. That.” she pointed to a nearby pillar, “Is purely for decoration, it not for function. It is only plasterboard and other cheap, breakable materials, and is not attached to the ceiling, or indeed the floor. Your dancers are very much at risk if you have them dance too close to it, it could very easily fall over, and though it is not functional, it is close to half a tonne in weight, not something I could ever possibly sign off on as being safe.” She explained logically, loving the fact that every word she spoke drove Taylor more and more to the brink of a tantrum, knowing that she could not argue Danielle’s point without others thinking her as being nothing more than petulant. “I can suggest other safer areas if you’d like.” She offered the producer.

The rest of the shoot went as well as it could in Danielle’s opinion, considering the main person dictating the shoot was the narcissistic ex-girlfriend of her boyfriend who seemed hell-bent on getting a reaction from Danielle. The song, as Danielle had gathered, was not only slating Tom as a user, a manipulator and a cheat, but also ensured to hint that Danielle, or the ‘The Heeler’ the title of the song referenced to, was the reason for the protagonist’s pain and hurt. She just bit her lips together and made comments to the producer where necessary to ensure the safety of everyone on set; though were Taylor to be hit across the head by a low beam, she would not have been entirely heartbroken.

“Thank you for all your hard work, Taylor was right to specifically ask for you.” The producer smiled politely.

Danielle mulled over those words for a moment when something came to her. “I have never worked with Ms Swift before, how did she even hear of me?” she asked, playing innocent.

“Well, I assume it has something to do with your work on other music video’s.” the producer dismissed, thinking nothing of it.

“I have never done a music video.” Danielle countered.

The producer frowned, “Did you work stateside?”

“I have never been to the States. This is my fourth ever gig. Sherlock, a soap opera, Game of Thrones, Beauty and the Beast.” She listed off.

“Odd, she knows no one really on those; your reputation obviously precedes you, because she was adamant about having you here.” He shrugged and walked off, leaving Danielle very concerned as to how Swift knew her career change.

“She’s over there, black jacket saying S.O. on it.” She heard a guy instruct.

Terrified as to who it was, she turned, shocked to see Luke Windsor coming towards her, grimacing internally at the annoyed look on his face “Mr Windsor.”

“Ms Hughes.” He replied curtly.

“You do not look best pleased.” She commented.

“Perhaps that is because I am not.”

“Is it anything to do with my relationship with one of your clients?” she gambled.

“That is exactly what it is.”

“Have we been spotted?” She knew it was only a matter of time before they were, but she had hoped to have spoken with Sophie before being thrown to the wolves or crazy fangirls as the case may be.

“No, there is no hint of anything.”

She frowned. “Then I don’t understand.”

“Would you like to know how I found out my biggest actor is seeing a set safety officer?”

“Tom sending a drunken text?” she guessed.

“No, that would actually have been better.” He growled. “I found out when I was speaking with Emma, Watson that is, and she made mention that she has seen Tom quite frequently of late, and how she was delighted he found a, and I quote ‘great, down to earth and decent’ girlfriend.” He explained.

“I know you’re mad Tom didn’t tell you that your conversation with me fixed our little miscommunication issue, but I am just going to bask in the knowledge that the Emma Watson called me those things.”

“You were just as capable of telling me.”

“I am not your client, though. I can’t imagine your secretary putting through my calls.”

Luke made a face that told her he could not argue that. “Well, a warning from either of you would have been nice, I need to make sure that when this does become public, that I actually know what is going on, as it stood, I thought there was nothing between you.”

“Shh!” Danielle looked around to see if anyone was close by. Luke looked around confused. “I…Do not bring that up here, please.”

“Why not?”

“Well, one; I don’t want anyone thinking I got where I am by sleeping with an actor, and two; of all the days for that to be made public here, today is not the day.”

“Why not?”

“You have no idea who’s here, do you?” he shook his head. “Your favourite pop princess.”

Luke’s face fell, his pallor changing. “What?”

“People were wondering why she was in London; she is here to shoot her new video, in this studio, today, and guess who the song is about?”

“I am going to kill him. I warned him.”

“I know, but there is nothing we can do about it.” She soothed.

“How bad is it?”

“He manipulated and used her, and I made him cheat on her with me.” She explained.

“Fuck,” he shook his head.

“You need to go,” Danielle stated. Luke looked at her almost indignantly. “If she sees you here, she will make a big deal of this, you are Tom’s publicist so she will know we’re together. She already knows I’m working here. That’s already too much.”

“Well, if you knew she was going to be here, why did you take this job, are you actively looking for trouble?” he growled.

“I was told, under no uncertain terms, that should I leave set today, after my actual job, I would be blacklisted. She demanded me specifically.” She informed him. “How she even knew I was working here, or indeed that I changed careers, I don’t know.”

Luke’s brows furrowed. “She wouldn’t have known?”

“They were broken up when I moved into it, and Tom didn’t find out until a month ago. There’s no way she should know.”

“Unless she has been keeping tabs on you.” Danielle cocked her head slightly, “Why come to London to shoot a video, the company she is using,” he looked at the emblem on the side of a soundboard case. “That’s an American company, she flew it all here.”

“She wouldn’t have done it specifically for me.” Danielle dismissed.

“Wouldn’t she?” Luke challenged. “I went snooping on PR Barbie when she and Tom were linked. I cannot believe these words are coming out of my mouth, but I agree with Kim Kardashian, she is a snake.”

“Hey, we don’t even know that woman, don’t judge her.”

“She got famous for nothing.”

“Actually, she got famous for something; something I don’t think many people would be willing to do, but to say she maintained fame shows she is not an absolute airhead, she’s worth more than you and I are.”

“You don’t strike me as a trash television fan.” Luke eyed her up and down.

“Never saw her show, not overly bothered by her existence, I just don’t know her, and as a fellow woman, I commend her for doing well with her life.” She shrugged.

Luke was about to say something else to her, but his eyes flickered over her shoulder and his jaw clenched. He made a slight movement of his eyes to Danielle to inform her who was coming towards them.

Taking a deep breath, Danielle composed herself and turned around. “Is there anything more you need Ms Swift?” she asked, though keeping the words polite was difficult.

“So you were only after him in the end, that’s a surprise.” She snarked, looking between the pair. “I was right all along.”

“I do not know what you are talking about.” Danielle feigned ignorance. “Mr Windsor and I are merely discussing his client and a future lunch between themselves and myself.”

“He seems to have only one client, and he follows him everywhere like a faithful puppy.”

Luke’s brows rose at Taylor’s comments. Danielle only laughed. “It wouldn’t be a successful PR firm if he had only one client. He has others, one of whom I happen to be a huge fan of, and whom I am working with at present, so with her being on this set, but having to leave early today to facilitate you, and him stuck in a meeting dealing with the premieres for this movie, he is merely relaying her message to me while here.”

Luke stared at Danielle, impressed with how she had concocted a story from thin air and had stated it with such conviction, he had to remind himself for a moment with was fabricated.

Taylor glared at her, “So you expect me to believe you aren’t sniffing around my scraps?”

“I couldn’t give a rat’s ass what you believe or not, it is no concern of mine. My only concern here was that nothing happens anyone on set when shooting, I have done my job, so I am getting ready to go home for the evening, perhaps get some room service, and see what’s on TV.”

“God, you’re boring.”

“Perhaps to you, but I’m happy, and that’s all that I am concerned with.” Danielle smiled, seeing the head of the studio coming, she decided to finish the conversation, even if Taylor didn’t want to. “Have a safe flight to your next destination Ms Swift, and thank you so much for asking for me today.”

Taylor’s nostrils flared at her manner. “What?”

“Well, I thought you would like to know that the money you’ve paid me for this shoot means I can take a month’s break after these few reshoots and spend it with those I love and get a new car, so thank you.” She beamed as the singer stared at her blankly. “You’ve paid for my Christmas and car.” She almost burst out laughing, loving how Taylor seemed to only then realise it was entirely true. “Thank you and safe journeys.” With that, she gave a wave goodbye to her superiors and walked off.

“You lie with too much ease,” Luke commented, having followed her out of earshot.

“I am dating an actor, I work with actors, all I see day and night are lies, people pretending to be people they’re not, people pretending to believe everything they say, you pick it up easy enough.” She commented, going for the exit.

When they came to Luke’s car, he stopped, looking at her for a moment. “I didn’t think I would be saying this, but you may actually be able to survive the gauntlet that being with Tom requires.”

“I hope so, but I’m not always sure. I am so scared of when we are found out.”

“Don’t you want to be with him?” Luke asked, confused.

“Yes, God yes. But it’s not really him and me in this relationship, though, is it? It’s us and every fangirl, gossip rag, and ex-pop girlfriend’s, that’s the worry.”

“If he wasn’t famous, would this be a concern to you? Would you be so sceptical?”

“If Tom worked as, I dunno, what would Tom be if he wasn’t an actor? I suppose something in literature, isn’t that what everyone thinks; then I would actually be happier, and probably not have spent five years of trying to convince myself I wasn’t completely in love with his dorky nutty ass.” She laughed.

“But he is an actor,” Luke commented.

“Yes, and a brilliant one.” Danielle concurred. “But it means we are not allowed be normal, are we? I mean, even you have an internet following, just because of him being him. I am just trying to get used to it Luke, I am doing everything I can to. I love him, I love everything from the fact he seems morbidly afraid of learning how to work a washing machine to the fact that his greatest brag in life is he can cook a breakfast, to even that weird attempt he does at dancing.”

“That fucking dancing.” Luke shook his head, causing Danielle to laugh. “What about the fact he is being seen as getting older now, getting…well, thinner haired.”

“If he heard you.” She scolded. “I guess he is going to get a few more ‘Dad’ roles in the near future, and yes, his hairline is receding a little, but if he turns out as bald as a coot, why would I care, he would still be the same dork that tripped over his own gangly limbs the first day I met him, the same guy that seemed to think it appropriate to make a sex noise because I made his tea right on the first go in my new kitchen, and the same guy who acted as though I gave him the moon when I got him a joke present of Baloo in the Disney store.”

“You really do love him, Tom the person, not the actor.”

“I met Thomas first, Tom came along after, and to be honest, being in the spotlight caused him to become colder, more clammed up in public, which startled me really, but when he is away from that, when he is behind closed doors, he is still the same happy sweet guy, thankfully. I was so scared she had destroyed that, it scared me so much; I wanted to save that part of him. When I fought with him during that relationship, I would have had it that he hate me for eternity than him risking becoming a cold person.” She explained. “Have a good evening Mr Windsor, and I’m truly sorry for any trouble today may cause for you.” She opened her car door and got in, leaving Luke slightly flabbergasted for a moment, before getting into his own car, mulling over her words, knowing that of any attempt Tom had at a relationship in the time they were working together, Danielle was there for the right reasons, and he found himself hoping she would be the one to stick.

[searchingwardrobes]

Desdichado: 12/19

As I read over this fic (since it had been so long since I updated it), I saw that at one point I promised to update this every Friday. Yeah, sorry about that! Life just got in the way. But, even though I can’t promise updates every Friday, I can promise that I will be updating this more regularly from now on.

Oh, the research we have to do as fanfic writers . . . I have been studying Julian Morris’s face (such a burden, I tell you) so I could do a better job at describing him because, honestly, I’ve never paid much attention to Phillip on Once. The Once wiki fan page says he has hazel eyes, which I mentioned in a previous chapter. However, after much (purely scientific) research, I beg to differ. Those eyes look brown to me, people. And can I just say that the casting director’s for Once have a very good track record for hunting down attractive men? Sorry Julian that I did not appreciate that pretty face more when watching the show. You were just one of so many!

But don’t worry, this chapter isn’t all Philip and Aurora. There’s also Outlaw Queen. Oh, and CS. There’s a little of that too . . . Let’s just say things are heating up all over the place in this chapter 😉

Summary: My CS Ivanhoe AU because I never liked how Ivanhoe ended. There’s chivalry and jousting and all that good stuff. But best of all, Killian is a knight. Oh, was that all I had to say?

Rating: T for men treating women like it’s the 12th century (except for our heroes, of course)

Trigger Warning: Starts out Sleeping Captain, but CS is endgame. Also positive spin on Regina with Outlaw Queen.

Words: Close to 3,000 in this chapter

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells (who has helped me with this fic!) @whimsicallyenchantedrose @wellhellotragic @mythologicalmango @thislassishooked @kmomof4 @snidgetsafan @kday426 @teamhook @bethacaciakay @jennjenn615 @delirious-latenight-laughs @winterbaby89 @let-it-raines (If anyone else wants to be tagged, please let me know!)

When the warmth of the sunrise hit Aurora’s face, she groaned at the stiffness in her neck. At some point, she had simply slumped against the tree behind her and promptly fallen asleep. Phillip’s head still rested in her lap, yet before she could wriggle free of the inappropriate situation, his eyes blinked open, their warm brown irises seeming to almost melt in the early rays of the sun. Her hand drifted to his jaw without conscious thought, and she trailed her fingertips lightly along his thickening beard. He smiled at her, a dimple forming in his right cheek.

“Am I dreaming?” he whispered.

Low as his voice was, it startled Aurora, and she snatched her hand away from his face. He frowned and stood up as quickly as he could. When she tripped over her skirts in her own haste to stand, he clasped her elbow and assisted her. His palm against her skin sent a tingle down her arm. When had she started feeling this way around him? Flustered and overly aware of each and every feature of his handsome face?

“You . . . had a nightmare,” she mumbled, pulling her cloak tighter around herself.

His gentle brown eyes regarded her tenderly. “I appreciate your kindness, m’lady. We’ll speak of it no more.”

And with that, he bent to scatter the ashes of their fire, chattering to her about the warm milk his mother used to bring him as a child whenever he had bad dreams. Aurora knelt nearby, relieved to put her trembling hands to a task as she packed their meager provisions back into Sir Phillip’s satchel.

“Mothers are naturals at soothing nightmares I suppose,” Aurora put in, feeling more at ease the higher the sun rose in the sky, “my mother would comb her fingers through my hair and sing me a lullaby as I drifted back to sleep.”

“You miss her terribly, don’t you?”

“Aye, more than I can say.” She handed the satchel to Phillip and tried to ignore the heat that flared when his fingers brushed against hers.

They headed through the trees, still staying off the path lest they run into bandits or scouts of Prince James. Phillip offered her his hand whenever the terrain got rough, and each and every time, the urge to feel his arms around her swelled within her. And on the heels of such thoughts, came swift guilt at the way her heart was betraying her precious Killian, her childhood sweetheart. Yet every time she tried to pull Killian’s roguish smile to her mind, her eyes were pulled to Phillips’s easy grin. And every time she attempted to conjure memories of Killian’s sparkling blue eyes, she found her mind drawn instead to the depth and warmth of a pair of brown ones instead.

“Lady Aurora, why are you trembling?”

She blinked to see Phillip standing there, concern etched upon his brow as he held her gloved hand in both of his.

“I . . . “

But before Aurora could give an answer, Phillip’s gaze snapped to the tree line, and he pressed a finger to his lips to warn her to be silent. Without thinking, she pressed herself closer to his side as she saw a figure through the trees. Phillip pulled her behind a large tree, pressing her back against the trunk. Her heart pounded in her chest at how close the knight was, though his gaze was fixed beyond the trees and not at her.

“Phillip,” she whispered. Was that flutter in her heart from fear, or something else?

“Sh,” he warned, but when his eyes captured hers, he forgot about whatever threat was beyond their hiding place. Instead, his eyes darted from her eyes to her lips and back again, his body inching just a bit closer to press against hers. Their breathing seemed to match, both quickening. He bent his head, his lips hovering close, and she felt her eyes falling shut without a thought.

“Who’s there!”

The shout from beyond the edge of the woods caused both of them to jump, and Phillip immediately put distance between them, a blush creeping up his neck visible even under his beard. Aurora bit down on her lip to prevent a chuckle from slipping forth.

“Poaching on Misthaven land is punishable by death!” the voice shouted once again. “Show thyself!”

Aurora gasped and rounded the tree as she recognized it. She had clearly flustered Sir Phillip, because he wasn’t quick enough to grasp her arm as he called out a warning. The knight found himself trailing behind her as she lifted her skirts and ran towards the familiar voice.

“Graham!” she exclaimed as she ran.

The knight, whom she had known since she was a small child, grinned in relief as he lowered his bow. “Aurora? Is that you?” He put his arrow back in his quiver and slung his bow upon his back just in time to catch her as she leapt into his arms. They both laughed as they embraced, but when Graham saw Philip trailing behind her, he stepped in front of her defensively.

“Stand down, Graham,” she laughed, pushing him aside, “this is Sir Phillip, my rescuer.”

“Rescuer?” Graham asked, suspicion coloring his words. “What’s happened? We’ve been worried sick. Uncle Stefan and the rest of your party were supposed to arrive days ago.”

“Uncle Stefan?” Phillip asked.

“Yes,” Aurora explained as she clasped Phillip by the elbow, “Sir Phillip, I would like you to meet Sir Graham Humbert, my cousin on my mother’s side.”

Phillip nodded as he took in the family crest of a wolf and a deer on the shield that hung on the man’s horse behind him. He reached out and took the man’s offered hand.

“And this is Sir Phillip, knight of the Templar.”

“A Norman?” Graham almost spat.

“None of that,” Aurora sighed with a roll of her eyes, “did you miss the part where I said he was my rescuer?”

“I did take note of that, cousin, and what exactly did he rescue you from? And where is the rest of your father’s house?”

“That is a long story,” Phillip told him, eyeing the woods behind them carefully, “and one better told within the walls of Misthaven. Do you have a good company of knights to sufficiently guard the castle?”

“We do,” Graham nodded firmly.

“Good. Take the Lady Aurora and make haste to the keep. I’ll follow.”

“But Phillip!” Aurora bit her lip as grasped his hands in hers. “Dear brave sir, I can surely walk the remainder of the way. You are in just as much danger as I for betraying your company.”

“And that was the choice I made,” he replied firmly, “you, however, have been a victim in all of this, and I have vowed to ensure your safety.”

“And you are my family,” Graham added, unceremoniously scooping her up and placing her upon his horse.

She wanted to argue further, to reprimand Graham for flinging her around like a rag doll, but the look of intensity in both men’s eyes stopped her. Phillip stepped forward and grasped her hands once again. “Prince James is involved, remember? This is no trifling matter.”

“I’ll keep her safe,” Graham promised.

Phillip nodded and squeezed her hands. “I’ll be right behind you on foot.”

All Aurora had time to do was smile at the handsome brown-eyed knight as Graham shot forward on his steed towards Misthaven castle.

*****************************************************

The Merry Men led Lord Stefan, Regina, and Violet stealthily through the woods towards the castle where the captives were being held. Suddenly, Robin Hood stopped and lifted his hand and their company immediately stopped, the Merry Men dropping to crouch amidst the brush. Robin made his way back to the Lord and the two ladies by his side.

“Wait here,” Robin instructed. “My men and I will draw closer to the castle in order to set the fires. Are your men ready, Lord Stefan?”

He nodded. “I really feel as if I should be with them.”

“No my Lord,” Robin argued firmly with a brisk shake of his head, “neither the Templars nor Prince James’s knights will hesitate to shoot down the most landed Lord of the Saxons. And with you gone, what will become of your daughter?”

Stefan sighed, yet nodded in agreement. He turned to Violet who was trembling and patted her hand. Speaking softly to the girl, he led her to a fallen long so she could sit. Regina watched the child with sympathy; it wasn’t fair that she had been drawn into such intrigue.

“They’ll be fine,” Robin assured at her elbow, “and so will your Emma. We’ll get her out safely, I promise.”

Regina nodded, folding her trembling arms across her chest. She wanted to believe him, yet she knew there were so many things that could go wrong in battle. Seeming to sense her distress, Robin reached out and clasped her arms gently.

“They’ll be drawn out by the fire. We don’t have time – Emma doesn’t have time – for a long siege.”

“I know.”

Regina took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Robin reached out tenderly and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I have to go.”

He turned, and the thought that something could happen to him strangled Regina’s heart. She grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him back to her, then yanked him down by the edge of his cloak to crash her lips into his. It was quick, and Robin blinked at her in shock.

“For luck,” she muttered, giving him a little shove as red flooded her cheeks.

He grinned broadly, then swiftly took her face in his hands. He bent then and kissed her properly, his lips sliding over hers, his tongue gently parting her mouth so he could drink her in. When it ended, Regina felt herself sway as spots danced before her eyes.

“For the pleasure of it,” he told her with a wink, then he was jogging off to join his men.

Regina rolled her eyes at his cockiness, yet she had to press her hands to her cheeks in order to cool them.

******************************************************

Killian watched Emma intently as she bent over him, her slender fingers roaming over his neck as she studied the cut there. He could no longer deny the heat that filled him at her touch, and it made dread settle in the pit of his stomach. He had made a vow to Lady Aurora. No matter what attraction he felt to Emma Swan, he could never break it. And he did still love Aurora; they had a long history together, and she was a tender part of his best childhood memories.

And yet, as he gazed into Emma’s face, he couldn’t help being drawn to her full, pink lips. He ached to gather her in his arms and press his lips to hers. He thought of waking up and finding her beside him, that drowsy smile upon those lips. He couldn’t help the traitorous wonderings in his mind – what would it be like to wake up to her smile every morning?

Those lips smiled as she ran her fingertips one more time down his neck and to his collarbone. He shifted in the bed, his face reddening to try and cover his body’s reaction.

“Well,” she told him joyously, “your neck wound is healing so nicely, it no longer needs a bandage.”

Her eyes met his, and her expression changed. Could she see his desire written all over his face? Her fingers drifted to his jaw, and he swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat. He reached up to touch her hair as he had longed to do, relishing the silky feel of it between his fingers.

“You are an exquisitely beautiful woman,” he told her softly.

“You only say that because I saved your life.”

“No, I say it because it’s true.”

His hand left her hair to cup her face. That too was just as soft as he had imagined. Emma took her hand in both of hers, her eyes falling shut as she held it pressed to her face. Then she gave his palm a slow, lingering kiss. The feel of her lips sent a jolt through him and it took every ounce of his chivalry not to pull her down to the bed for a passionate embrace.

She opened her eyes, and he was startled to see tears in them. “You are not mine to have, Sir Killian.”

Then she dropped his hand and rose quickly, turning her back to him. She hastened to the kettle at the fire.

“Forgive me, Lady Emma,” Killian choked, feeling like an utter cad, “I didn’t mean -”

“It’s okay,” she cut him off. “Let’s just . . . forget it happened, shall we?”

Killian struggled to sit up in the bed, and Emma turned suddenly with an alarmed expression. She ran to his side and gently pushed him back down against the pillows.

“Just because your neck wound is healed doesn’t mean the rest of you is,” she admonished like a mother hen.

He groaned as he felt the jabbing pain in his ribs and the flame of fire shooting from the wound in his side. “I realize that now that I’ve attempted to move,” he chuckled. His gaze found Emma’s as she fussed with the blankets. “Forgive my forwardness, I beg of you m’lady.”

She gave him a smile tinged with sadness. “Of course I forgive you.”

She turned back to the kettle which was now singing over the fire, and he sagged against the headboard. No matter what his future held, of this he was certain – Emma Swan would always haunt his thoughts.

The spell that seemed to hang between them was shattered when they heard screams, shouts, and crashes from the corridor. Emma gasped, nearly dropping the kettle, and then raced to the door. Ever since they sent Violet for help, they had been alone in the chambers. He prayed no one ever learned of it; he would never forgive himself if he harmed Lady Emma’s reputation.

When Emma reached the door, she yanked it open and immediately began to cough as thick smoke billowed into the room. Another scream rent the air along with the sound of shattered glass, and Emma tumbled back into the room as flames licked at the stone outside of their chamber.

“Emma!” Killian shouted, pushing up from the bed despite his pain.

She ran to him, catching him as he attempted to rise from the bed. She lowered him back to the mattress, clinging to his shoulders, her cheeks streaked with tears.

“You can barely walk! What are we going to do?”

She choked on a sob, and he drew her close, even as he winced at the pain in his ribs. He had never felt so helpless in his life.

“You must leave me,” he whispered into her hair.

“What? No!” She grabbed desperately at his shoulders.

“Emma!” A voice shouted from the doorway. They both turned to see Sir Baelfire standing there, outfitted in chain mail as if ready for battle. “The castle is on fire, you must come with me!”

“No!” Emma shouted, clinging to Killian more desperately.

“Well, you don’t really have a say in the matter,” Baelfire grumbled, yanking Emma up.

“Don’t touch me!” she screamed, pummeling the knight with her fists. But Sir Baelfire had combat training and was clad in chain mail, so he easily stopped her attack, pinning her arms to her side.

“Let go of her!” Killian yelled, pushing himself off the bed. He attempted to stand, but his injuries, his weakness from his days of fever, and the smoke quickly filling the room were too much, and he sagged quickly to the floor.

Emma continued to fight her “rescuer,” kicking him in the shins and elbowing him in the stomach. The latter caused him to grunt and let go of her, but her instinct to rush to Killian’s side was her undoing. Sir Baelfire leveled a blow to her head that sent her crumpling to the floor, unconscious.

Killian struggled to his knees, swaying as the smoke thickened and flames swelled in the corridor. He choked, unable to cry out, helpless to rescue the woman who had so bravely fought and cared for him. Through the billowing smoke, he could just make out her arm dangling at her side, her hair a golden waterfall tumbling over the villainous knight’s arm as he carried her away.

“Emma,” he choked, a tear slipping down his cheek as they disappeared into the smoky haze.

As he slipped into oblivion, his last image was most likely a hallucination. He could have sworn he saw a Black Knight silhouetted in the flames.

[wrckhvck]

         In PORTLAND, ME I found JAX COYNE, a child with the ability of BLOOD MANIPULATION. At first HE came off as IMPETUOUS but they also seemed GREGARIOUS. I was unable to procure the child, as an adult, they should resemble GRANT GUSTIN.  ( c, she/her )

hey hi hello everyone!  i thought my rping days were behind me but i loved TUA and decided to give this a go.  we’ll see how it works out shshshss.  i love yelling about riverdale ( so bad its kinda good ), shadowhunters, broadway, and love cats more than people and i’m super hyped to be here.  for a little more about jax, you can keep reading ~   also this is important !!! there are a lot of trigger warnings re: his past / life so i’m going to list them all here instead of in the tags at the bottom. you have been warned.   

           trigger warnings:  minor child abuse, child abandonment, domestic violence, negative self-talk, lack of self-esteem, suicidal ideation, self harm, self mutilation in the name of science, lack of self-worth, lack of self-preservation, unintentional suicide attempts, warped self image, bloodplay(ish), mentions of violence / self-violence.

        TLDR:  jax has a fucked up sense of self and likes to experiment on himself. proceed with caution i guess ???  

&. basics

full name: jackson ‘jax’ edward coyne

nicknames: jax, jaxxy, jack

age: 29

sexuality: pansexual

relationship status: single

date of birth: october 1

place of birth:  portland, me

gender & species: cismale, enhanced humanoid(?)

current location: unknown.

&. more basic info

languages: english, spanish, french. 

religion: n/a - he’s an atheist. 

education: BS degree in human biology concentration from the university of southern maine & MD from uConn school of medicine. 3 years studying to be a forensic scientist and now completing a one year residency/fellowship before getting board certified. 

occupation: forensic pathologist

drinks, smokes, & drugs: yes, no, yes.

&. personality

zodiac sign: ( references: one, two ) libra

mbti: ( reference link ) istj

likes:  emo music, pasta dishes, cats, supernatural (tv), black nail polish, coffee, true crime podcasts, greek yoghurt. 

dislikes:  socialization, herbal tea, vaping, people who don’t use their turn signals when driving, one way streets, mustard, taylor swift music, and reality tv.  

bad habits: bites his nails, picks scabs when you’re not supposed to, obsesses over getting song lyrics right, poor posture, obsessing over things that can’t be changed. 

secret talent: tattooing. he’s not licensed to do any work on anyone else, but he’s done a lot of the work on his sleeves himself.  he had his in love and death tattoo done when he was 16 and he’s been addicted ever since.  he was too broke to be able to afford constant work so he had to learn how to do it himself with a lot of trial and error.  

hobbies: listening to true crime podcasts, research, drawing/sketching, watching wrestling, boxing, studying, etc.  

fears: isolation, decision making, the future, responsibility, the truth about his origins. 

five positive traits: determined, altruistic, loyal, competitive & vulnerable

five negative traits: impetuous, cowardly, stubborn, blunt, & prone to self-harm in the name of science. 

other mentionable details:   jax has done some Questionable Shit TM in the name of science.  as he can control / manipulate blood, he’s frequently injured himself to test the extent of his abilities.  he’s also caused some health issues by increasing his blood pressure / fucking with the way blood is supposed to work that has landed him in the hospital a few times.  he’s also tried playing operation with himself and has been studying his genetics obsessively to try to figure what the hell is he / who he is.  he grew up thinking he was a monster (bc thats what they told him he was) so he sometimes considers himself more of a science experiment than a person.  

&. appearance

tattoos: he has full sleeves up and down his arms.  i can’t really find anything that suits it but i think the left side would be venom / symbiotes and  maybe some nightmare before christmas elements??? idk.  the other one would be like a graveyard kind of theme with like tombstones, skulls, some wild looking shapes and black roses..  he also has the album artwork from in love and death by the used on the side of his ribcage (x)   he also has the tattoo from supernatural (x) bc he’s a fucking dork and its his favorite show. 

piercings: nipple, septum, tongue. 

faceclaim: grant gustin.

&. family information

parent names:  helen & n/a. 

parent relationship:  he doesn’t have a relationship with his parents.  his mother gave birth to him at 17 - after having  not been pregnant until she went into labor - and always considered him an abomination. helen’s boyfriend broke up with her thinking she’d been unfaithful and wouldn’t believe that she hadn’t broken their agreement. they’d been saving themselves for marriage and were planning to get married the summer after they graduated.  betrayed by her love and judged by her extremely conservative, religious, family, helen found herself looking for love in all of the wrong places.  this love was never shared with her son.  when she abandoned him at a local orphanage, he was only 5 years old.  he never saw her again. 

sibling names:  n/a.  he doesn’t consider himself having any siblings. he bounced out of foster home after foster home and never made any lasting connections. 

sibling relationship: n/a

other relevant relative: none. he had a maternal uncle but he passed away when he was a baby. he never knew him. 

children: n/a

significant other / spouse: n/a

pets: he has a pet snaked named anguis. it means snake in latin. he thinks he’s clever. he’s not. sdkjgsds. 

&. biography

        it was a blustery october day when helen coyne doubled over in the park across the street from her house. she was meeting her boyfriend, edward lovington, and they had plans to get milkshakes and go to the movies.  instead she was rushed to the hospital under suspicion of a burst appendix, only to give birth to a healthy baby boy some minutes later.   this phenomenon would later be known to be the moment that 43 women around the world delivered babies without ever having been pregnant.  each child would have abilities beyond comprehension and some would go on to become students at the umbrella academy.  jax would not enjoy such a fate. 

      helen’s parents were extremely religious.  she and her boyfriend had pledged their chastity under the belief that they would be married come the summer and he believed her to have broken that vow.  he ended things with her and her family turned their backs on her.  only her brother kept in contact, allowing her and the baby to move into his guest house until they could get back onto their feet.  he was named jackson edward, after his maternal grandfather and his mother’s former love.  jax never met either man but had heard the story from his mother as he grew up.  to this day he doesn’t know why helen decided to keep him; why he wasn’t given up for adoption as a baby, or abandoned at the hospital on the day he was born. 

     desperate for love and looking in the wrong places, helen suffered a string of abusive and controlling men.  it was a circle of abuse that she seemed caught in, believing to her core that she deserved it because god had punished her.  this continued until jax was five, when her latest boyfriend scratched her face.  the cuts welled up - the first time a boyfriend had drawn blood in jax’s presence - but to everyone’s dismay, the wound coagulated and the blood disappeared, back where it came from.  her boyfriend would have killed them both - afraid of what he’d seen when jax yelled at him to stop - but his eyes ran red as the blood inside his body boiled and cooked him from the inside out.  the sound of his body hitting the floor was drowned out by helen’s screams.  jax was abandoned at a local orphanage days later, his mother unable to look at him as she believed he was a monster.  

        maine isn’t a big city.  the area they were in was extremely small, so whispers of what had happened to helen’s boyfriend ran rampant.  jax was branded a freak, kept in isolation at the orphanage in fear of what he’d do to the other children.  he didn’t understand his powers yet and believed what his mother said was true; that he was a monster and that he deserved whatever happened to him as a consequence of it.  he withdrew into himself and was selectively mute until his teen years, bouncing from foster home to foster home as he grew.   it was only when he was 13, now exploring his powers with a morbid curiosity he would later attribute to scientific hypothesis, that he started speaking again.  

     jax grew up very isolated and socially awkward.  he doesn’t always know how to talk to people or how to appropriately react in certain situations.  he’s very morbid, has a dark sense of humor, and has a lot of questionable interests.  his music taste is skewed towards screamo / emo music and heavy metal.  he prefers horror movies to essentially every other genre and spends hours listening to true crime podcasts and lives on CSI / Criminal Minds / SVU etc.  his favorite bands are my chemical romance, the used, saosin, underoath, black veil  brides, and disturbed. 

       academically, jax is kind of a genius.  he didn’t really have friends so he spent a lot of time studying.  he finds biology interesting because his own biology fascinates him.  he can control blood; can make it coagulate, raise his own blood pressure, and even create it from his own cells.  it doesn’t make sense.  it doesn’t fit into what he knows about the human condition and that fascinates him.  experimenting on himself has become second nature and he covered up the majority of the scarring with tattoos.  the only friend he ever had showed him how to do some of it himself as a teenager and he’s kept up with the hobby - buying cheap supplies online or cutting corners to keep up with the artwork decorating his body. 

     with two degrees under his bet, jax is swimming in debt.  honestly his checking account is a terrifying place to live.  he’s been low-key indulging in credit card scams for years to keep his head above water.  he has a ledger where he’s written down every card, every loan, and every payment he needs to pay back. it’s locked in a safe so no one can ever find it.  as a forensic pathologist he’ll make good money and hopefully be able to pay it all back before the cops come knocking down his door.