#”You do have a choice: scream or don’t” - Amanda Young when someone is in the rigged trap

[thee-radio-host-is-a-kookaburra]

low key kinda mad that Logan has some of literally the best lines in the franchise while being literally the most useless character

#saw #jigsaw 2017 #max squawks #sawposting #saw movies #saw franchise #esp bc i can think of other characters to give his lines to #”I speak for the dead” - Lawrence Gordon at the end of Saw 3D #”You do have a choice: scream or don’t” - Amanda Young when someone is in the rigged trap #“I am him” - Either Hoffman at the end of Saw 4 or Amanda at the end of Saw 2

[lady-divine-writes]

Good Omens - I Was Given Four Rules to Follow ... I Broke Every One: Chapter 1/3 (Rated PG13)

Summary: When Warlock Dowling is summoned to the old South Downs cottage of Aziraphale and Crowley to help clean out their attic, presumably after their deaths, he is given four rules to follow.

... He breaks every single one.

Notes: For @silver-colour

Written for the @tricketyboo2020 prompt "Creepypasta format story (like a found footage or witness statement kind of thing)" by silver-colour. It is a mild reworking of an older fanfic of mine, but that goes tongue in cheek with the ending of this story sort of. XD I would put this between Spooky Level 2 and 3, with 3 being "major and minor character death, disturbing images or concepts, major dark themes, major violence, etc." But there's only minor mentions of blood/body horror. But the whole undead thing is a trigger for some people and I lean into that imagery a bit. I wanted this to be a sort of leveled up Goosebumps tale. Tl;dr proceed with caution <3

Chapter 1

 I am going to die.

I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’m going to die.

I have to keep repeating it because I have to come to grips with it.

I am going to die.

Not in sixty years.

More like sixty minutes.

Oh, Amanda. I am sorry.

If you ever hear this … I never meant for this to happen.

My name is Warlock Dowling and I am 34 years-old. Devoted son and husband, I’ve spent over a decade working towards achieving my dream of following in my father’s footsteps and entering politics one day.

It’s a dream I don’t think I’ll be seeing through to the end.

I am telling you this because after reading what I’ve just read … and hearing what I’ve just heard … I am not certain I’m going to make it through the night.

I broke the rules.

There were four. Only four. And I broke them.

I didn’t break them by accident. I absolutely did it on purpose. I’m not suicidal or anything, but you only live once - am I right?

For the record, I don’t regret a single thing.

…

That’s not entirely true.

I’ll regret dying before morning if that’s the way things play out.

Today happens to be October 31st - Halloween night. I’d been tasked with clearing out the attic above a cottage in The South Downs which once belonged to a pair of old family friends. Technically, they were ex-employees of my parents from back when I was young, but I thought of them as surrogates. They practically raised me, educated me, taught me everything I know about coping in this cruel, pathetic world.

I held them in the highest regard.

They were the only people in my life who treated me as if I could become more than what I had been born into, that fate had something else in store for me. Because of them, I met the best friends a boy could ever have.

I will forever be grateful for that.

Cleaning out this attic was the least I could do to repay them, but to be honest, I don’t know who summoned me here. I assumed it was the executor of their estate, but now I’m not so sure. Looking over the letter in my hands, there is no legible signature. And the gold embossed emblem at the top that I took for granted as belonging to some upscale legal firm is, on closer inspection, gibberish - a mess of fleur-de-lis underscored by Latin words that roughly translate to “the cows shall rise”.

Ludicrous, right?

How did I miss that?

But more ludicrous - and confusing - are the rules.

I had been given rules about cleaning this attic.

The first rule on the list was to touch only what I could see. Under no circumstances was I to open any of the boxes or chests.

So, naturally, I opened every single one.

The second rule was not to put anything on. Fine by me. The only clothes up here are old lady outfits and a pair of white satin shoes.

But …

There was an awesome vintage leather jacket hanging on a dressmaker’s dummy in the corner and … well … it had my name written all over it! I had to try it on, see if it fit.

And it does.

Rule number three - keep to my torch. Don’t light any candles.

Nuh-uh! It’s Halloween! And torches are lame. So on the candles went. Jeez, there are a lot of them. Enough to burn down the whole place if I’m not careful. It actually seems like they’ve multiplied since I’ve been up here.

I won’t lie - it’s unsettling.

But according to the list, rule number four is the most important:

Don’t read any books I find. And definitely not out loud.

The first thing I saw when I entered the attic was a stack of leather-bound books. I scoffed at the sight of them, piled up to my chin, right inside the entryway. Isn’t that a bit like putting a huge bowl of candy front and center on your dining room table in the middle of dinner with a huge sign saying, “Do not eat?” If the most important rule about going into the attic is, “Don’t read anything!” why not put all the books on a high shelf?

Or the moon?

I’m not a book lover. I read hundreds of pages a day for work. I definitely don’t do it for fun. So this shouldn’t have been a hard one for me to follow.

But they looked like diaries.

And diaries hold secrets.

That made them a different matter all together.

I couldn’t resist.

But once I opened the top one, I knew I’d made a mistake.

These weren’t just any diaries.

They were the diaries of my two friends - Aziraphale and Crowley.

There had always been something odd about those two. I didn’t believe for a second that they were a proper nanny or gardener, not even when I was a young, impressionable child. But they were funny - a distraction from the dull as dishwater life of an attache’s son.

Yes, I was a spoiled little rich kid with everything I could ever ask for handed to me and, on top of that, diplomatic immunity.

Woe was me.

I realize how much of a douche whining about that makes me sound.

My life was still dull.

I was still lonely.

I never knew for sure what happened to them after they left us. I made assumptions - erroneous assumptions. I thought they lived happily ever after at least.

Now I know … that wasn’t the case.

I’m recording this in the hopes that someone will find it, so that you might know the true story of what happened to them …

… and why you might not be hearing from me again.

***

The Diary of Aziraphale Fell - Reluctant Widower

January 14th-

“Please, sir,” the decrepit woman hissed, but not unkindly. She came about her speech impediment by a mixture of symptoms - her thick accent coupled with her indeterminable old age caused her to talk that way. “Please, reconsider this decision.”

I glared at her regardless. I knew my eyes were bloodshot; my hair a mass of tangled, wayward strands; my lips quivered from constant, unrelenting crying.

“You said you had it!” I screamed, bypassing her arguments. “You said you would sell it to me! Wh---why else would I come here!?”

“You need to understand,” the woman implored, opening her hands in a pleading gesture. She fixed me with one clear blue eye, the other eye clouded – a useless, milky white lump of tissue bulging inside its socket, “what you ask for … it is unnatural.”

“But your granddaughter said it was a done deal!” I persisted, shooting a steely glare at the simpering young woman who ducked behind her grandmother to hide from my volatile stare. I wasn’t about to leave without the item I came for. At this point, I was willing to tear the place apart and everything inside - including the two of them - to get it.

They must have sensed that.

Even as the woman continued to defy me, she looked slightly more afraid than she had a minute ago.

“My granddaughter is foolish!” The woman directed the comment over her shoulder to the girl cowering there. “But she means well. We need the money. She was thinking with her head and not her heart.”

“I can pay you twice what you’re asking!” I reached into my back pocket for my wallet. “Three times! I’ll give you whatever you want!”

The girl, intrigued by my proposal, peeked over her grandmother’s shoulder, but the woman turned and barked sharply at her in a language I could not understand.

That was when I began to think I might be in danger.

I’d spent my entire life studying languages, so hearing one I didn’t comprehend, not even an inch, sent a shiver down my spine.

“Mr. Fell …” The old woman reached out, I presumed to comfort me, and took my shaking hand in hers “… your husband is dead. And I am more sorry than I can ever express at your loss. You carry your love for him like a beacon. I see it in your eyes. It shines from every part of you. With him gone, it is up to you to carry it. It will never fade as long as you remember him.”

Those were, without a doubt, the kindest words anyone had said to me since my husband passed. I crumbled, new tears falling hot down my cheeks. But regardless of her sympathy, sincere though it might be, I refused to relent.

I refused!

“I don’t want to remember him!” I whimpered, my anger renewed at the sound of my voice fracturing. “I want him here with me! I need you to help me bring him back!”

The woman sighed in pity but shook her head.

“The effects of life are varied, Mr. Fell. Our fate … it changes every day, with every choice that we make. But the effects of death should remain permanent.”

I flinched at that word as if she’d struck me across the face.

Permanent.

Crowley dead … my husband gone … and nothing for me to look forward to in life but emptiness. We’d had every moment of our lives planned together.

One arsehole drunk driver later and now I was alone.

I literally had no one.

I had lost contact with my mum early in life, never knew my father, didn’t have children of my own. My boss and mentor was an abusive prick who tormented me throughout the span of my career until I found a way out from under his thumb.

Until Crowley helped me discover a life where I didn’t need the man’s guidance or control.

But now I was going to lose him!? The only one who had stuck by me, who defended me, loved me through thick and thin!?

No! That was beyond cruel! And I wasn’t going to roll over and accept it!

I let the sorrow within me curdle, turn sour as I yanked my hand out of the old woman’s grasp.

“Your granddaughter said there are other methods of getting what I want!” I snarled. “Dangerous methods. Methods that might require payment in sacrifice … even blood. And not necessarily my blood. Innocent blood, if you catch my meaning.”

Both women gasped.

Despite the conversation at hand, I smiled.

Good, I thought. We were finally all on the same page.

Up until a few days ago, I never considered violence to be the answer to anything. But I had since come to a crossroads where an exception had made itself clear.

I was prepared to annihilate my humanity to get my husband back.

The old woman snapped her head over her shoulder, scolding her granddaughter in a harsh, guttural voice. The girl, who had started to brave coming out of hiding, shrank down once again.

“Be reasonable,” the woman begged, “please, and think about what you are saying. What you are willing to do.”

“No,” I said, my calm more potent than my anger … or so my husband used to say. “The time for me being reasonable is over. I will get what I want, no matter what the cost. The question is whether or not you will be the one to give it to me.”

The woman looked down at her gnarled hands and sighed a long, exhausted sigh. “Alright, Mr. Fell. I will sell the potion to you at the promised price.”

I stared at her for a moment in shock. I was relieved, of course. I hadn’t thought I would get this far. It frightened me how much I had begun looking forward to throttling her with my bare hands, imagined her neck snapping within my grasp, effortlessly like a twig.

That couldn’t be me though. I wasn’t that kind of person. It was this place - this shop and all of its trinkets, their age and professed magical abilities amplifying my grief, turning every rational thought I had into rage.

I had to get out of here and fast before I did something I might regret.

I opened my wallet with the onset of happier tears and thumbed through the bills, pulling out extra for the joy of getting what I wanted. I handed the money over, but the woman refused to touch it. She waved it away, her granddaughter popping up long enough to grab the money and then scurry off again. The woman reached into the folds of her skirts and retrieved a leather pouch that hung from a thin belt around her waist. From it she fished out a tiny blue bottle with a cork stopper sealing the mouth. She gave it a long, troubled look, then handed it to me.

For the first time, her hand trembled.

“Pour the contents of this bottle into your husband’s mouth, Mr. Fell,” she instructed, “and your husband will return.”

I held the bottle up to the dim candlelight of the musty Soho shop. The blue glass glimmered, a thick liquid inside swaying back and forth, shimmering like sun-tossed sparkles across a dark, foreboding sea.

“There are some rules that go along with that potion,” the woman said, her voice weeding into my head, summoning me back from my momentary trance, “and a few warnings you must heed as well.”

I sighed. I had hoped it would be a simple matter of giving my husband the liquid and living happily ever after, but I knew in my heart that nothing was ever that simple.

“Okay,” I said, slipping the bottle carefully into my pocket and patting over it twice to ensure its safety. “Tell me. What are the rules?”

“First of all, you will give that to your husband, but what will come back …” she paused, swallowed hard “… will not entirely be your husband.”

I nodded. I had expected her to say something along those lines, like a scene straight from an old time-y horror movie.

The woman locked both eyes, one clear and one clouded, on my face as I waited for her to finish her speech, eager to go back home and get on with my life. She realized, with regret, that I had every intention of going through with this, and took on the heavy burden of allowing this to continue.

“Be there to look into his eyes when he wakes,” she said.

I hadn’t dreamed of leaving his side, but since the woman made such a point of it, I asked, “Why?”

“He is being reborn, in a sense. And like other simple-minded creatures, he will imprint on the first person he sees.” She took my hands and squeezed them. “That person needs to be you!”

My gulp was audible, the weight of her words and of my plan suddenly settling within me. They pressed in on me, like that moment when the police came to my door. Their words – “Mr. Fell? I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but … it’s about your husband …” had turned me inside out, left my heart out in the cold.

I felt that cold now.

“Once the potion absorbs into his tissues, it will restart his heart,” she continued. “Then the potion will replicate. It will begin to take the place of his blood. It will make him calm, easier for you to control.”

I nodded again. I wanted to say something, assure the woman that I understood, but she didn’t pause long enough for me to speak. It wouldn’t have mattered. I saw the trepidation in her one, clear eye. I had no clue what to say to make this better.

“It will be a slow process, and you must learn to be a patient man!” She raised her voice, letting go of one hand to waggle an emphatic finger in front of my face. “You will be teaching him, raising him as you would a child. Remember, even if only a small portion of his soul returns, that soul belongs to your husband, and you must love him or this will not work!”

The woman stepped back, out of breath from her outburst, and her granddaughter (whom I had forgotten about) returned, pushing forward an ornate but dusty antique chair to catch her in. I held the woman’s arms gently and helped her into it, feeling strangely protective. The woman sat and waved us both off, not wanting us to make a fuss when she still had more to say.

“But most importantly,” she labored on, barely missing a beat in her speech, “do not let him taste blood.” I knelt down so that she didn’t feel the need to yell for her words to reach me. “He cannot eat meat, but most of all, don’t let him bite you or lick your wounds. Or anyone else’s – human or animal.”

“Will … will I become a zombie? If he does bite me?”

I’m not quite sure why the word ‘zombie’ leapt to my mind. In every interaction I had had with the woman’s granddaughter before tonight, she had been so careful not to use that term. She used other, more romantic euphemisms such as ‘bring back to the land of the living’, ‘re-associate with life’, and the most used - ‘rebirth’. But that’s what he would be, right? When we moved past the flowery vernacular and got right down to it? This potion I had pocketed would turn my husband into the walking dead, - a simple-minded creature that was once deposed from this Earth.

And that meant ‘zombie’.

As if I had nothing more pressing at hand, I suddenly recalled the Walking Dead marathon Crowley had convinced me to watch (against my better judgement). Crowley thought the show was hilarious, but I could barely make it to the middle of the first season. I had started watching with my hands over my eyes, then with my arm locked around Crowley’s, anxiously smacking his shoulder, and finally with most of my body lying over his lap and my face buried in his shirt.

It wasn’t just the gore in the show that skewered me, made me nauseous, unable to breathe. It was the fear and the pain those characters felt, being chased by a relentless enemy that needed no rest, constantly running into people they couldn’t trust, people who were so out for themselves they no longer believed in the sanctity of life, with nowhere to hide, nowhere safe at all, even behind thick, concrete and metal walls.

Watching your loved ones get turned into soulless monsters - still there, but everything about them that you had once loved out of reach.

And this ‘illness’ or whatever these people had - it spared no one. Even children had become zombies. And in the game that was survival for the remaining uninfected, children had become pawns.

Everything about it seemed so horrendous.

And while I suffered through my existential crisis, Crowley laughed at my antics.

I fought not to smile at the sound of his teasing voice.

“Uh … a little squeamish there, are you, angel?”

Angel.

From the first day we met, that’s what he called me.

Oh, what I wouldn’t give to hear him call me that again!

The old woman chuckled, bringing me reluctantly back from my daydream. “No. Not in this case. That’s not the nature of this spell. No, blood will give him back his memories.”

I looked at the woman, bug-eyed, and shook my head. “I … I don’t …”

“It will ignite his brain. He will begin to feel. In many ways, he will become more the man you married than in any other.”

“Wha---?“ I stuttered, baffled as to how that could be a bad thing. If drinking blood could make Crowley more Crowley, I’d set up an IV drip the minute I got home! I would serve him cups of blood with every meal! I’d make donating blood a requirement for entrance into my bookshop! (That one would definitely kill two birds with one stone. In fact, I might consider doing that anyhow.) “And why wouldn’t I want that again?” I asked, trying not to sound like turning my husband into a blood-sipping fiend was the greatest idea in known history.

The old woman smiled, but it wasn’t fond. It was shrewd, as if she could read every one of my thoughts.

And she didn’t approve.

“Once he has his memories back, he will start to crave it. Soon, drinking blood won’t be enough for him. It won’t work as well. It won’t keep the memories as fresh. He will have to go further, do more. He will become a killer.”

My face must have gone as green as I felt because the woman laughed again, this time with a touch of wickedness. A killer? My Crowley? My sweet, kind, compassionate Crowley?

Okay, maybe I was going too far with the endearments. He’d been a bit of a bastard, after all. Which was why I could picture Crowley becoming a full-fledged bad boy. With that leather jacket he wore like a second skin and his gleaming classic car, he’d been well on his way.

But a killer? No.

Then again, I was willing to become one myself a second ago, so maybe I wasn’t in the best position to judge.

“You are playing with the laws of nature, Mr. Fell,” she said, patting me on the cheek. “You are responsible not only for your own life, but for the lives of those around you.” The woman leaned in close, those eyes – one alive, one dead - more menacing than when I had walked into the shop; her face no longer that of a frail old woman but of a powerful witch.

This time, it was my turn to feel afraid.

“So don’t fuck it up.”

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #tricketyboo2020 #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #aziraphale #Crowley

[matchasprouts]

Listen Closer - Chapter 1

[ hi again besties i am so so gay ]

First || Next || Previous || Last

Garrett jolted awake in a stiff chair, immediately noticing two things: one, he was strapped to the chair with metal cuffs by his ankles and wrist and two, there was a big, heavy, metal collar around his neck.

He instantly started struggling, yanking his arms up and trying to pull them out with the full force of his body.

A voice made him stop.

“Hello Garrett. I want to play a game,” a TV had clicked on in front of him, revealing a large puppet with black hair, white skin, red eyes, and red spirals on his cheeks, “for years, you have written about the deaths of those around you. You alternate between slow deaths and ones you describe as reminiscent of a feral dog attack.”

That was true. Garrett had a lot of issues stemming from trauma, and it had made him violent. Writing was the best way for him to get it out without actually hurting anyone.

“Despite all that you write, you never do anything. You spend your life writing about the deaths of people you don’t like, allowing their transgressions to consume your life. Well, finally getting that release is what will save you today.”

Oh my god. Was he about to get to kill someone?

“Beside you is your former step-father. He is alive, but not fully aware of his surroundings because of the drug I gave him- however, this will not last forever, meaning you have a limited amount of time to do what is asked of you. Inside of his throat and one of his lungs are two keys. The keys to your collar. I have provided you with a knife strapped on the underside of your chair.”

Holy shit. He was being forced to kill his abuser in order to live. This was the best day of his fucking life.

“If you fail to kill him and retrieve both keys within one minute, the collar around your neck will activate, sending just enough of an electric shock through your body to paralyze you. The amperage will slowly rise, killing every cell in your body as slow as possible. You can either turn to the feral killings you love so much, or succumb to one of the slow deaths you write the most. Live or die, Garrett. Make your choice.”

The cuffs clicked open. Without hesitation, Garret leaned down for the knife, immediately lunging for the man that had ruined his life at such a young age. Matthew was beginning to stir, but he didn’t care. He’d spent years getting stronger, faster. He could take him.

“Shhh,” he shushed the man, pressing his index finger against his lips as a wide smile spread across his face. “I promise it’ll be over soon.” It wouldn’t. Garrett plunged the knife into Matthew’s chest and dragged down, ripping him over.

The scream was music to his ears. He kept going, ripping open his lung with his hand. It took a second of searching before he found the key, jamming it into one of the keyholes on his collar.

Now for the one in his throat. Matthew wasn’t dead yet, but it wouldn’t be much longer, so Garrett wasted no time in tossing the knife to the side and diving in, ripping into Matthew’s throat with his teeth.

He never even got the chance to scream, very much dead by the time Garrett ripped out a piece of his throat, spitting it out and leaning back in to keep going.

It only took a few more bites before his teeth hit the key. He scrambled to grab it and shove it in the other keyhole, suddenly wanting nothing more than to live. He wanted to live, to become something more than the life he’d been living since he was five. He turned the keys.

And the collar popped open.

He yanked it off, throwing it across the room, far away from himself.

After realizing what just happened, he let out a loud, hoarse scream. It wasn’t long before it became a near maniacal laugh, running his hands over the blood on his face. He never realized he loved the taste of blood, or maybe it was just the satisfaction of killing the man he loathed.

He head snapped to the side when heard the door open, and he lunged for the knife, scrambling to his feet so he could start fighting a lot easier. There was nothing for a second, before the puppet from the TV squeaked into the room on a shitty little tricycle.

Garrett lowered the knife.

“Congratulations. You survived. I hope you have learned how to appreciate your life, instead of living it focused on the people around you,” the puppet spoke, in the same voice as before.

Garrett tilted his head at it, before slowly making his way over to it. “I want to join you,” he said, loud enough for the security camera in the room to hear him. “I want… I want to stay better. I want to make sure that this- this clarity lasts. Please.”

There was silence, before he heard the sound of footsteps. The first thing he saw was the cloak, and then the rest of the man. He was taller than him, but only by a few inches. He removed the hood of the cloak, revealing a….

Old ass man. Jigsaw was a fucking grandpa. That’s fine, Garrett didn’t care as long as he could keep him busy.

“I believe you’re the first to approach me first with a desire to become an apprentice,” the man said to him, curious about what would drive him to this. “But a beggar cannot be a chooser. You’re resourceful, and you know your way around a machine. You can be useful.”

Of course he could. He wouldn’t have offered if he wasn’t useful. Jigsaw offered a hand for him to shake, and he grabbed it without a second thought.

---

That was months ago, and now he was doing some tweaks on his favourite trap of John’s yet- the Venus Flytrap. It was basically an iron maiden built specifically for the face, and he thought it was beautiful.

“Alright, try the timer again,” he said as he set the contraption on a mannequin head to test it on. They’d been having trouble with it going off when it was supposed to, so he’d taken it upon himself to fix it.

Amanda, the only other apprentice he knew off, started the timer on the trap, only setting it for a few seconds. When it went off, the Flytrap closed immediately, crushing the head inside.

Garrett let out a whoop, jumping up with an excited clap of his hands. “Let’s fuckin’ go!” He went for a high-five with Amanda, letting out a laugh when she followed through with it.

It was hard learning how to work with someone else, but Garrett considered Amanda a friend at this point. She was kind and driven, and supportive as hell. There was no concern that she would betray them, so he confided in her.

It had only been a few months, but he considered John and Amanda his new family, and he was glad for it.

God knows he needed it.

#story tag: listen closer #self ship fic #self shipping #self insert #scrap.writing #scrap.ships #romantic: ⛓🕵️‍♂️ #chapter 1 #s/i: garrett whitlock #mark hoffman

[tangled23works]

No Time To Die

My @olicitytropes story continues. Hope you guys enjoy this update and if you’re fic writers yourselves, they have some wonderful Halloween prompts on their account that you can check out.

Read on Ao3

Or keep reading here

“Do you see them?” Sin whispered close to his ear.

 Oliver didn’t pay much attention to her question but he noticed her tone. Sin was afraid and trying to hide it.

 He was lying down on a filthy roof stalking the man rumored to have created the new drug that plagued the Glades. Sin had provided the information and insisted on accompanying him. Ever since her friend Max had died, she had been determined to bring down the man responsible for the whole operation.

 Count Vertigo was what they called him. A ridiculous name if Oliver had ever heard one.

 “Is there a way in?” Sin asked.

 “There’s always a way,” he replied, thinking once more of the island and his mentor’s teachings.

 There was only one problem. The ‘way’ was a narrow entrance on the right side. There was no cover and if the police entered, the armed men the Count had inside could take them out easily, one by one. Like the Battle of Thermopylae. Of course, since Oliver planned to crash this place alone the point was moot.

 Sin had tried to persuade him to call someone for help but he had refused with a grunt and a shake of his head. Another thing he had learned on the island; fighting alone meant no one could fail you. Relying on yourself, being the weapon was the best option.

 Even if you were facing a crazy drug lord and his minions.

 “I counted five guards while I was waiting for you,” Sin said.

 “Six,” he corrected. “There’s one on the roof.”

 Sin stared at him with admiration. The night was pitch black and the guard was barely visible. “What are you gonna do, Boss?”

 “Don’t call me that. And don’t interfere. Just stay out of my way.” His gruff order sounded harsh but the young girl must have realized that he was worried about her.

 “Head on a swivel,” Sin promised.

 Oliver gave her a short nod and started running in a low crouch across the roof. He had no intention of entering the warehouse through the front door. Ancient Greeks were masters of military tactics but they knew nothing about modern architecture. Reaching the end of the roof, he leaped across the gap and landed on the other building silently. 

 He approached the guard with stealth and precision. Snapping his neck was not difficult; making sure that the other man didn’t make any noise was the challenge. When he was certain that the guy was dead, he laid him down carefully and located the hidden skylight.

 Oliver knew that the moment he broke the glass he would bring a lot of unwanted attention to himself. And possibly Sin. That would not do.

 Thank God for ARGUS and their little tricks. Taking things from them was fun and his way of saying a big ‘Fuck you’ to Amanda Waller who had stolen a year of his life and put him back on goddamn purgatory. He pulled the round, unassuming device from his inside pocket and placed it on the glass. A strong laser beam cut through a circle just wide enough for a grown man to enter. Once it was finished, the glass didn’t fall down and make a ruckus but remained stuck on the device. You just had to hold it carefully and avoid dropping it yourself.

 Removing the glass and securing the device, he was now ready to enter. He paused only for a moment to make sure that no one was standing beneath him and then jumped into the hole.

 He landed softly and pulled his bow in one move. Someone came rushing at him in the dark but Oliver was ready. He used his shoulder to deflect and then his right fist to punch the man. His opponent fell but didn’t stay down. 

 Oliver nocked an arrow and growled, “Where’s the Count?”

 “I’m more afraid of him, than I am of you!”

 “Wrong answer.”

 Without further discussion, he shot him through the heart and sidestepped the dead body.

 Another guard heard the commotion and ran towards him, ready to shoot. This time he didn’t stop for questions. He took care of the problem quickly and reached the corridor.

 These men obviously knew who he was. And they weren’t afraid of him. Which only meant one thing. The Count was more dangerous than he had thought.

 No matter. The Hood had survived a lot worse.

 There! A door at the far wall. 

 Well, no point in trying to conceal his presence anymore. Oliver kicked it hard and calmly walked through.

 The sight he encountered was straight out of a nightmare. People were naked, dressed only in medical robes and chained together, working on a substance that he identified as the green drug both junkies and cops called Vertigo.

 “The Starling City vigilante? In my home?” The man that spoke had the gaunt look and crazy eyes he had once seen on patients in Arkham Asylum. “You humble me with your presence, you mighty avenger. Please allow me to welcome you. No need for arrows. We fight on the same side.”

 “Your side is money. We are nothing alike.” He knew better than to respond. But just the idea that he had something in common with that lunatic made bile rise in his throat.

 “You care for the Glades. You want the best for its people. You hate the rich as much as we do. We are not that different you and I.”

 “I don’t poison this city,” Oliver growled.

 The Count laughed. “Oh, Green One, the poison is just the symptom. You have no idea about the disease that is slowly killing Starling. But you’ll soon learn. When he’s ready.”

 “When who’s ready?”

 But the discussion was apparently over because the Count fired three times. Oliver shot an arrow towards the chain holding people, breaking it and jumped behind a leather couch. The men and women didn’t try to escape but moved all together like headless chickens getting in the middle of the bullets and arrows with no care in the world.

 It was horrible and as the sound of sirens signaled the police’s arrival, it only got worse. Oliver’s final coherent thought was of Sin waiting alone on that rooftop. He hoped she stayed out of trouble. And then there was no more thinking.

 Only fighting and surviving.

Felicity was pretending to sleep when her phone started ringing. Ever since she had discovered that her best friend’s brother was this city’s guardian angel, sleep had become a rarity. Needless to say, her job and nonexistent social life were suffering. She sighed and decided to ignore the call. It would probably be her mother who had no concept of the time difference between Starling and Vegas.

 The annoying ringing stopped. Promising herself to call her mother tomorrow night, Felicity punched her pillow into submission and wondered what Oliver was doing at that moment. Probably having fun kicking bad guys, jumping from buildings and shooting arrows left and right. Growling in frustration she kicked the sheets away. Would this torment never end?

 The phone rang again. Felicity gave a small scream and reached for her glasses. It was too late in the evening (or too early in the morning to be exact) to deal with her Mom’s stories about rich customers and semi-famous celebrities or - she shuddered - questions about her dating life.

 Great, now she was rambling in her head.

 She picked up without looking at the screen. “Mom I love you but 4 o’clock is not the time to discuss potential boyfriends or-”

 “Felicity Smoak?” a deep, male voice asked.

 “Who’s this? How did you get this number?” She knew she sounded angry but if there was one thing that Felicity was paranoid about, was her identity. Very few people had her phone number and even fewer would dare to call her at this hour.

 “We have a mutual friend.”

 “Are you calling from SCPD? Because I thought that Roy’s thieving days were over. Oh Google, don’t tell me you’re calling from the hospital? Who’s dying? Is it my Mom? Thea? O-” She stopped herself before uttering that last name.

 The man on the other end of the line chuckled. “Sounds like our friend was right to ask me to contact you. You’re worried about him.”

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied, even though her nerves were shot and she was biting her lip hard enough to draw blood.

 “Do you know the Queen Steel Factory in the Glades?”

 “If it’s on a map, I can find it.”

 “Good. Come as fast as you can. Try the back entrance. The code is 1141.”

 “That’s a lousy password. I could break that in my sleep,” she said and realized that the man had already hung up.

 It took her brain a few moments to freak out about everything. Possible scenario number 1: he was injured, dying on a table, hidden in an old steel factory. The agony that pierced her heart was short but hurt like the devil. Possibility number 2: the man that called was an ally and Oliver had made him call her for help. But what kind of help was she? She was not a doctor and she was definitely not a fan of pointy things. The only skills she had were her smarts and her computer knowledge. What good would that do if he was dying, dammit? 

 She didn’t know but she got dressed as fast as possible. 

 Felicity didn’t have any trouble locating the old Queen steel factory. It was deep in the Glades, on the other side of her home which was located in the gentrified part of the neighborhood. She turned right and parked as close to the back entrance as possible. Taking out her pepper spray, just in case, she pushed the buttons and the heavy metallic door opened easily.

 “Hello?” Her voice echoed in an empty stairwell.

 Pepper spray in hand, she got down the stairs carefully. Somewhere in the back there was water dripping and some kind of machine making a beeping noise. If he was actually hurt, a hospital would be a much better choice than this damp, unsafe environment.

 “You must be Felicity,” a voice said as soon as she reached the bottom. Jumping a mile high, she nearly got scared out of her skin but she was proud that she managed to swallow her instinctive scream.

 The man, staring at her with open curiosity, was built like a mountain.

 “I’m John Diggle. You can call me Dig.”

 She nodded even though she didn’t care much for introductions at the moment. 

 “Where is he?”

 Dig pointed towards the middle of the room where a long, metal table was located. A young girl, no more than 25 years old was lying on it.

 Felicity tilted her head. She had no idea who the girl was but she appeared to be seriously injured.

 “That’s Sin,” Dig explained. “She was at the wrong place, at the wrong time.”

 Curiosity appeased for the moment, Felicity repeated her earlier question. “Where is he?” It was irrational but she wanted to see him with her own eyes. Only then she would be satisfied.

 Dig sighed and led her towards the back where a half-naked Oliver Queen was performing upside down crunches. His torso was glistening with sweat, his back muscles were straining but he didn’t stop. Not even for a second. 

 “She’s here,” Dig said but Felicity would bet her new TX processor that the warning was unnecessary. Oliver had a sixth sense where she was concerned. He had probably known she was there way before Dig did. He did a hundred more repetitions without pause before acknowledging her presence.

 “Why am I here, Oliver?” she asked, deliberately using his name.

 For the first time, since she had arrived at this lonely basement he turned and looked at her.

 “The police are on my tail. Constantly. I want to know why.”

 “Can you elaborate?”

 “Did you see any patrols when you drove here?”

 “Well yes, but Lance is obsessed with the Arrow and it’s not weird that-”

 “Arrow?” Dig asked, raising both eyebrows.

 “Not the time,” Oliver snarled and grabbed a towel. Rubbing his body, he focused on Felicity. “The night of the party…”

 A sudden roaring in her ears made her miss a little bit of his speech. That night was engraved onto her memory. It was both terrible and hauntingly beautiful.

 “...Lance always seems to know where I am. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to catch a break. If I lay low, he lays low. If I’m dressed in green, he’s always behind me, nipping at my heels.” He threw the towel on the ground, viciously. “Walter always said that you’re the best. That you could hack the FBI if you wanted to. I know I’m asking a lot but today they came this close to catching me and now, someone else is paying the price.”

 His voice had dropped several octaves as he looked at the sleeping girl. And Felicity saw clearly what he had been doing earlier, hanging from the ceiling like a bat. Not exercising or trying to calm down as she had originally thought but punishing himself.

 She put her bag down and turned towards the computers.

 “Hacking the SCPD is a serious waste of my talents, Oliver. I’m not thrilled. I don’t think Batman is asking Oracle to hack GCPD, is he? She’s probably looking into the freaking NSA while I’m here-”

 She stopped suddenly and whirled around to glare at him.

 “Oliver Queen what have you done to these poor babies? This system looks like it came from the 80’s! And not the good part of the 80’s like leg warmers and Madonna… No, it looks like-”

 Placing a hand on her shoulder, he cut her before she could continue. Felicity fixed her glasses. Her cheeks were burning with embarrassment. Why did she have to go on a tangent? She had been doing so great so far! Being invited into his secret lair in the middle of the night, she had one zillion questions about him and the young girl and Dig and she had managed to keep her mouth shut and not ask anything. Then, just a look at this horrible abuse of technology and she couldn’t help herself.

 “I’ll get on it,” she whispered and focused on the task ahead.

Thirty minutes later and after the men indulged in a sparring session that provided the background music to her work, she jumped and yelled, “Yes!” so loudly that both of them came running.

 “What did you find?”

 Oliver’s voice reached her first.

 “Lance has a spy.”

 He shook his head.

 “Not possible. No one knows about this.”

 Felicity scoffed. “Your friends know. I know.”

 “I don’t have friends.”

 She threw her hands in the air. What a stubborn, stubborn man! She justified using two ‘stubborns’ because one wasn’t enough to describe him.

 Dig didn’t comment but made a motion with his hands to show that she should ignore him.

 “You said that Lance’s pursuit became worse after the mansion, right?”

 “Yeah,” he confirmed.

 “Did you happen to have any run ins with the law before the party?”

 He narrowed his eyes. “As a matter of fact, I had one just before I arrived at the mansion.”

 “Show me what you were wearing.”

 Oliver cocked his head, clearly confused.

 “You want answers? Show me what you were wearing.”

 Oh, she was enjoying this so much! It was so much better than de-spamming email addresses and pretending she was a blonde bimbo so that her stupid boss wouldn’t be offended by her intelligence.

 Oliver brought his green suit and gave it to her, albeit a bit gingerly. She patted it down and discovered several hidden pockets that held all kinds of things but not the thing she was looking for.

 “Is that all?” she asked. Frustration colored her voice but she was sure her instincts were right. She just had to prove it.

 “What about the quiver?” Dig chimed. “Didn’t you have it with you?”

 “Quiver?” Excitement returned with a vengeance.

 Oliver turned towards a glass case. Felicity rolled her eyes and whispered to Dig, “Is the glass case really practical or is it a necessary accessory to the vigilante lifestyle?”

 Oliver didn’t respond but the slight upturn of his lips indicated that he had heard her. He gave her the quiver but removed the arrows explaining that some of them were so dangerous that they could set off a minor explosion and seriously injure her.

 Felicity nodded but didn’t pay much attention. Her hands patted down the leather and admired the practical design. Whoever had built that was obviously a master of his craft.

 “His name was Yao Fei.”

 “Who?”

 “You were mumbling about the man who made this. The quiver was his. So was the bow.”

 She was staring at him in complete surprise when Dig’s forced cough pulled her out of her reverie. Yao Fei? It was the first time she had ever heard of him. Could Oliver have met him on the island or in a totally different place? And what possessed Oliver to actually tell her about him?

 Obviously, she was not the only one surprised. Dig was looking at his friend as if he had never seen him before.

 “Yes!” she shouted and pumped her fist in the air.

 While her brain had been focusing on the riddle that was Oliver Queen, her hands had found what she had been looking for.

 “You don’t happen to have a Faraday cage in this establishment, do you?”

 “A what?” Dig asked.

 “It’s a literal cage that can block electromagnetic fields,” Oliver answered before she could. “Which means that… You found a bug?”

 The last word was said so calmly that it scared her. Growly Oliver was a sight to behold but it didn’t faze her. Calm Oliver was terrifying.

 “They must have planted it on you during the fight.”

 Dig crossed his arms and looked skeptical. “If that thing is a bug then why hasn’t Lance swarmed this place?”

 Felicity examined the small device. It gleamed in her hand.

 “This is the Sniffer 2000. It’s an old version of a very dangerous tracker that the military uses often. This baby shows a general location but not exactly where you are so after a while it became obsolete. Of course, the Starling police department is so underfunded that there’s no way Lance could get something more expensive. Or reliable. That’s probably the only reason why you aren’t wearing cuffs now.”

 “Okay,” Dig said. “I’ve heard enough. Let me get the hammer and-”

 “No. Give it to me.”

 Felicity closed her hand. “Listen, Oliver. If you’re going to do something stupid then we should discuss it first, don’t you think? The three of us might come up with a better plan.”

 He took a step forward.

 “There’s no ‘three of us’. I work alone. And my plans are never stupid.”

 Dig fake-coughed to show his disagreement.

 “Fe-li-ci-ty. Give me the bug.” 

 He was still speaking in the same self-possessed tone that was freaking her out. They were standing too close, almost touching and she could feel him. A serene front but underneath there was anger. The Hood was fighting the city’s worst criminals while the police were chasing their tails. A young girl had gotten hurt because of a man’s personal vendetta. A girl under Oliver’s watch. No. Anger was too small a word. 

 Rage fit better.

 “Promise me,” she said before she could stop herself.

 He narrowed his eyes.

 “Promise me you’ll come back.”

 Before she could berate herself for the utter stupidity of trying to exact this type of promise from him, he nodded slightly and took her hand. His gloved fingers caressed her skin, pushing her fingers open, making the hair on her arms stand up. His movements were so gentle that she felt like crying. Again.

 Watching him take the bug, put on the suit, place the arrows back in the quiver and grab his bow without speaking was one of the hardest things she had ever done.

 He walked towards the metal staircase but turned back at the last minute.

 “Dig. Take care of her.”

 Dig didn’t argue and took a step towards Felicity.

 They watched him leave, both standing in an uncomfortable silence full of tension that Felicity would have normally tried to break with a thousand-word babble. 

 Turning towards Dig, she clutched his arm harder than she meant to.

 “He’s gonna do something stupid, isn’t he?”

#olicity fic #olicitytropes #my fic updates #no time to die

[alj4890]

And Then I Met You

What happens when the one you thought you were meant for turns out to be meant for someone else?

A\N Choices Fan Fiction with characters from The Royal Romance, Red Carpet Diaries, and Perfect Match

@lxaah11​   @alleksa16​   @penguininapinktuxedo​   @blackcoffee85​   @stopforamoment​     @hopelessromantic1352​     @krsnlove     @annekebbphotography        @hopelessromantic1352   . @sunflowergirl05   @desireepow-1986  @greywitchyshots   @lilyofchoices @moodyvalentinestories  @emceesynonymroll   @my-heart-beats-for-ya @aworldoffandoms   @ab1901     @lolablackwrites     @flyawayboo   @i-bloody-love-drake-walker   . @trappedinfandoms   @kate-mckenzie

A/N This is the final chapter for this storyline. Thank you so much for reading this and enjoying it with me. I will still offer shorts and requests for this pair in this storyline. My next series for Thomas and Amanda will be the, “what if” she never told him about being part of the selection for Liam’s bride. The trip to Lake Tahoe will not result in their hasty marriage. No Lauren. None of what has happened here. If you would like to be tagged in this, please let me know in the comments. The new series will be called, And Then I Left You. Cheesy right? LOL!

Masterlist

Part 27 

Lord Thurston Vancouer’s study, Cormery Isle, Cordonia...

Lauren stilled at Tariq's words.

"You," her eyes narrowed, "you are ending our engagement?!"

"Yes." He clasped his hands behind his back. "I have already sent in my statement to the press and--"

"You did what?" She screeched. "How dare you! I should have been the one to do that." She stepped forward and slapped him. "Do you have any idea what this will do to my reputation?"

Tariq's jaw spasmed from the impact. He calmly turned his head back toward her.

Her temper flared even more at his silence. “I gave up my career for you, you bastard!” She raised her hand to slap him again.

His hand shot up, grasping her wrist. “I think this is for the best.”

“You think so?” Her lips curled in a snarl. “You will regret this.”

His expression hardened. “I think I will regret it more if I don’t end things now.”

Lauren yanked her hand away.  “You weren’t the only man who wanted me to marry him.” Her chin lifted as she tried her best to look down her nose at him. “I was told by your friend to dump your sorry ass and choose him.” 

Tariq merely shrugged causing her vengeful temper to burst. 

“It’s Blair isn’t it?” She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t think I’ve been oblivious to the extra time you have been spending with her.”

“She is in a sense a reason behind my decision.” He responded. “But mostly, she opened my eyes to your true nature.”

“You haven’t even begun to see my true nature.” She warned. “But you will. You will see all that I am as I destroy every single thing you love.” 

Her smile sent chills down Tariq’s back as did the words that followed.

“I think I will start with Arabella. That will punish not only Neville for what he did to me, but will also hurt your precious Blair. Then I’ll--” 

“I don’t think you will have the chance to do anything to my daughters or son.” Lord Thurston’s hard tone cut through her tirade.

Lauren paled when she saw members of the King’s Guard fan out around the study behind Lord Thurston. 

“Your time in Cordonia has come to an end.” Thurston told her. “In fact, I believe you will never have an opportunity to hurt anyone ever again.”

Lauren screamed out her denial when the the guards moved to take her into custody.

“You can’t do this! I--” she was silenced by the guards forcing her to the ground to handcuff her.

An Interpol agent stood by, watching it all unfold while reading out the crimes she was accused of.

Arabella and Blair stood silently with Neville in the hallway as Lauren was dragged out, screaming and crying.

“We must inform Lady Olivia and Lady Amanda that it is done.” Thurston said once the front door closed behind the guards..

“I’ll call Olivia.” Arabella ran off, excited to not only see Lauren taken away, but at also recording the whole incident. She knew a few popular reporters in Cordonia who would appreciate this video.

“I’ll make certain that Lady Amanda is told.” Blair went to Tariq and gently squeezed his hand. Her eyes met his. “Are you alright?”

He nodded, a gentle smile formed over her concern for him. “I am now.”

With a whispered promise to talk to him soon, she left the three men alone.

Thurston cleared his throat to break the tense silence and waved toward his study. “I believe we need to clear the air between you two.”

“There is no need.” Tariq replied. He averted his eyes from the two. “It will take time, but I refuse to let what happened ruin my relationship with the Vancouer’s.”

Neville lowered his head. “I don’t know what possessed me to do that to you.” He lifted remorseful eyes to his old friend. “I humbly ask your forgiveness.”

Thurston wisely remained silent as he watched his son and the man he considered a second son. He knew that this was something that only they could resolve.

Tariq shifted from foot to foot. “I won’t insult you by lying that I understand why you did it or that it didn’t hurt to hear that you--” he shook his head. “I consider you and your family as my own. And if things go as I think, then we will be brothers in truth one day.” His shoulders straightened. “You will have my forgiveness, but it will take a long time for you to regain my trust.”

Thurston looked on in approval as the two shook hands, his son expressing once more his sorrow for his actions.

Time would heal these wounds.

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

The night before in Monterisso, Queen Amalas's private quarters...

"Enough haggling." Olivia grumbled. "I've offered my services the next time you need them." She folded her arms, leveling her basilisk gaze upon the Queen of Spies. "What have you found out about Lauren Benefield?"

Amalas poured them each a glass of wine. "Have a seat."

Olivia eyed the crystal goblet.

"Please." Amalas rolled her eyes. "Why would I make deals if I planned on poisoning you?"

Olivia set the glass down. "I know you didn't poison it. I am here on business, not some social call."

The queen's expression held hints of approval. "And this is why I offered my services to you." She pulled out a small flash drive and tossed it to her. "That, your grace, holds everything."

Olivia quirked an eyebrow. "I assume you kept a copy for yourself."

Amalas silently raised her glass in a toast. "Wouldn't you?"

Olivia's lips twitched into a brief smile. "Naturally."

The Queen pressed a button under her desk. The wall to the left opened, revealing a series of monitors.

Amalas took her own copy of the flash drive and began to pull up all she had discovered on Lauren Benefield.

"It is a good thing you managed to have Lauren quit Lord Hunt's picture.” She began, “ Here's a brief synopsis of what I discovered about her and her associate, Viktor Montmarte.

Olivia pulled up a chair and began reading. Her complexion paled due to some of what she read.

"Kidnapping. Drugs. Sex trafficking. Rape. Extortion." She clicked and saw the small island in the south Pacific that Viktor owned.

"Lauren was not only partaking of these activities." Amalas explained. "She was handpicking underage girls and having them sent to his island," her voice hardened in anger, "under the guise that this was their big break into Hollywood."

Olivia's eyes widened at the satellite images of what was happening around Viktor's estate. "Dear God."

"Interpol along with the FBI are thrilled that I was able to get some concrete evidence." Amalas explained. "I've been working with them the past few months." Her voice turned cold. “Montmarte has friends in very high places that have been helping him stay just under the radar.” Her eyes narrowed. “I knew he couldn’t be doing all this on his own.”

"And when you saw what Lauren was doing to Thomas and Amanda, you were able to get the final piece to the puzzle?" Olivia murmured.

"I didn't know if she was a victim or a partner of Viktor's. Once I tapped into their conversations while she was at Lythikos, I was able to see how deeply involved she was." Amalas enlarged a photo of Lauren smiling as she disembarked off a plane with two teenage girls. "Without her help, Viktor wouldn't have gotten half of the girls he and his friends preferred."

Olivia clicked on another image of Lauren and Viktor at a pool party. The actress was laughing while holding down a young woman in tears so that the producer could forcefully fondle her.

Amalas clicked back to her notes. "I discovered this too." She pulled up a recorded conversation between Viktor and Lauren from when she first began working with Thomas. "Lauren records everything in case she needs to blackmail Viktor and vice versa."

Viktor: How's your seduction going?

Lauren: *laughter* Slow. I have to handle Thomas with kid gloves.

Viktor: If anyone can do it, it's you.

Lauren: I know. *more laughter* Don't worry. I won't forget about you. Once Mr. Hunt is mine, I will give you his grieving wife.

Viktor: *chuckle* I have plans for the duchess.

Lauren: I bet you do.

Viktor: I haven't ever had a noble before. *sinister chuckle* Perhaps I should use the gold rope when I tie her up.

Lauren: Promise me that I get to watch. I can't wait to see her content, happy face devastated.

Viktor: I promise it will be all that you desire, my dear.

Lauren: Maybe we should first force her to watch what I do with Thomas. That will really get her.

Viktor: The more broken they are the more turned on I get. We'll use the rooms with the two-way mirrors. I’ll start by--

Olivia turned it off. Her rage exploded as she stood abruptly from her chair.

"I--" tears sparked her green eyes. "I can't believe--" words failed her as she thought of her closest friend encountering such evil. That she actually had this person in her home as a guest.

Amalas placed a comforting hand on Olivia's shoulder. "Don't worry." She closed the files. "Once America and Europe are finished, these two will be permanently placed in a dank cell."

“They don’t deserve that consideration.” Olivia snapped. “To think of all the lives they have ruined.”

Later that night, Olivia called Liam and Bastien. She explained all that she had discovered, urging them to alert Lord Thurston to guard Arabella and Blair.

Plans were made to have the actress apprehended and held for extradition. Liam promised to call Tariq to go ahead an issue a statement that his engagement was over before the scandal struck.

After talking to them, Olivia called Amanda.

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

St Orella, Cordonia, the next day...

Thomas was in no state to continue filming. Last night's discovery had nearly broke him. Knowing he would have been the one that brought about harm to Amanda and their life together had devastated him.

He had briefly explained to Holly to have the crew take a few days off while he came to terms with everything.

He then spent the morning on the balcony, staring off at the waves, crashing against the rocky shore.

"How long have you been out here?" Amanda asked once she found him.

"Sunrise." He replied, unable to look directly at her.

She came over and sat next to him. Her hand slipped into his as she turned her attention to the beauty before them.

Thomas couldn't take the simple kindness. He rose abruptly and went to stand over at the balustrade.

"Thomas?" Amanda followed him and wrapped her arms around him from behind. "What's--"

He jerked out of her grasp. "I need to be alone."

Her eyes searched his, causing him to avert his gaze.

"Why?" She asked.

Thomas ran his hands over his face. "You know why."

She leaned against the balustrade, silently observing her husband’s odd behavior.

He couldn't take it. He left her without a word and went directly to their closet.

Amanda followed him, watching as he began to pack.

"What are you doing?" She asked. "We don't leave for the capital until Thursday."

He tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat. "I'm not going to the capital."

"What? Why?" Amanda couldn't take him avoiding her and blocked his path. "We must attend Liam's coronation!"

Thomas stilled when she took his hands. His head dropped, wishing she would order him to leave and never return. He didn’t deserve her. 

"Are you angry with me?" She asked.

His head jerked up. "What would I have to be angry with you for?" His expression hardened. "Were you the one to insist on having an actress be around the one you vowed to protect? Were you the one who dismissed all the concerns voiced by those you trust?" His voice cracked. "Did you leave the one you love more than anything alone with such a person nearby to film on location?"

Amanda stepped closer, winding her arms around him. "You didn't know Lauren was that evil. You thought she was a flirt. A woman who got off on destroying people's lives with affairs."

"I should have put two and two together." He snapped, completely disgusted at himself. "I suspected Viktor of predatory behavior with young actresses. I should have seen that his closeness to Lauren meant that they were of like mind."

His temper broke as he thought over all his decisions concerning the actress. “AND I’M THE FOOL WHO BROUGHT THEM INTO OUR HOME!”

His voice echoed in their bedroom. A nervous Hudson knocked on the door, forcing Thomas to quickly apologize for his outburst.

Amanda shushed him, pulling him closer to her. The morning's news had shown the actress being extradited from Cordonia while Viktor was simultaneously being dragged from his Hollywood mansion in the middle of the night. Some other famous people and those in the business and diplomatic world were being held for questioning and arrested.

"It's over." She said softly. "Neither Viktor nor Lauren will ever have a chance to hurt someone again." She pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. "And thankfully, they did not have a chance to hurt us as they had planned."

"If they had, I--" he swallowed at the lump in his throat. "I could have lost you."

Amanda shook her head. "You wouldn't have lost me." 

She tried to kiss him. Prove to him that all was as it should be.

He broke away. "I would have. If Lauren had succeeded in making you believe I was having an affair. If Viktor had succeeded in--" his fist clinched, wishing he had them wrapped around the man's throat. "I would have lost you."

She tried to say he wouldn't, yet, she knew deep down that he very well might have. As she imagined how she would be after going through something like that, she realized what would have happened if they had divorced.

"We would have found our way back to each other."

Thomas raised his heartbroken eyes back to hers. "You sound so certain."

"Not only do I love you, I need you." She admitted. "You give me comfort." She tugged on his arms to hold her. "You listen to me, try to help me...I would have needed all that if they had succeeded." She nestled her head in the crook of his neck and shoulder. "Your touch alone helps ease any worry or pain I have."

He clutched her tight, words failing at how she did the same for him. He pressed his lips to her forehead, letting them remain there as he allowed her to ease the tension within him.

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

Fives Months Later, Hollywood...

Thomas tugged at his bowtie while he waited downstairs. He reviewed the speech he had written for tonight’s premiere of The Earl’s Undoing.

“You’re going to ruin that if you keep pulling at it.” 

He looked up and smiled at his wife coming downstairs. Slipping the notecards in his breast pocket, he met her at the bottom step.

“I must admit that I feel those same butterflies that I had the night you took me to the AFI’s awards.” She tilted her head when he kissed her cheek. “Are you sure this is what I should wear tonight?”

Thomas took her hand and twirled her. The rich royal blue gown sparkled in the lamp light. “You look beautiful.” 

She pressed a tender kiss to his lips, smiling as he held her close. “You look very handsome.”

“I notice you say that whenever I wear a tuxedo.” He teased. “That is the only reason I keep wearing them to events.”

She laughed, slipping her arm in the bend of his. “We better go. Liam sent a text saying that they would be leaving the hotel in an hour.”

The two made their way to the theater. Cameras flashed as their limo pulled up.

“Ready?” Thomas asked.

“I think so.” She gripped his hand. 

“Normally, I would say we forget about it and go straight home.” He stepped out of the car and helped her out. As cameras flashed and cheers were yelled, he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “But I want everyone to see how proud I am that you let me direct your story.”

Cameras once again captured the moment the two looked at one another. The tender smile and obvious love was seen by all along with the sweet kiss the duchess gave her director.

That night, Thomas did not remain dismissive of any question posed about the film. With Amanda by his side, he remained for the most part, almost pleasant with the invasive inquiries of their life together and whether or not they would work on any more projects as they had with The Earl’s Undoing.

Finally making it inside the theater, they joined their friends who each had a hand in helping the couple get here together.

Once they all found their seats, Thomas whispered that he would be right back.

He made his way to the front of the packed auditorium and raised his hand for silence.

“Good evening.” He began. “I want to thank each person who made this movie possible. My gratitude to our friends from Cordonia who traveled here specifically to support us. And how grateful I am for those of you who came out tonight.” 

He cleared his throat and waited for the applause to die down. “Let me begin by saying what many directors that have come before me have said. This was a labor of love.” His eyes met Amanda’s. “But unlike the love we feel for our craft, mine was truly one of deep, heartfelt emotion. Without this story, I would have never met the author who ended up becoming the very love of my life.”

Amanda blinked back tears as he gave a brief story of how he had fallen in love with her while working towards making a movie. Beside her, Nadia, Riley, and Addison were sniffing and wiping their own tears. Even Olivia and Holly were slightly affected, both attempting to pretend they weren’t.

“What you will see on the screen is a love letter to my wife, Amanda.” He explained. “Every shot. Every line said in a particular way. Every bit of costume and scenery...it is all from my heart.” He once again met his wife’s unwavering gaze. “For the rest of my life, this movie will be my favorite of all time and all because I met you.”

#Thomas Hunt #choices red carpet diaries #choices thomas hunt #thomas hunt x oc #thomas hunt x amanda #and then I met you

[didierleclair]

Beautiful poetry is not always rebellious

She was beautiful, the poet who delivered her words during the inauguration of the new president of America, Joe Biden. I have no intention to denigrate the literary qualities of Amanda Gorman’s poetry. But what should we say after that? Maybe that the value of youth should not bother with the wait of maturity. But sometimes, it should.

Poetry, when respected, gives you back the same respect you gave to it. I remember Maya Angelou’s reading during Bill Clinton inauguration, January 20th, 1993. Her poem was called On the pulse of morning. In this enticing text, Angelou says “I am the tree planted by the river/which will not be moved”. It is an homage to Langston Hughes (I’ve known rivers) and to James Baldwin (The Fire, next time).

I won’t attempt to compare the work of Maya Angelou to the poetry of Amanda Gorman. I’d rather speak of her experience. Maya Angelou walked beside Martin Luther King Jr., she knew Malcolm X. This woman was shoved around, brutalized, insulted during the worse period of the Civil Rights Movement in the sixties. When Angelou recites her poetry, in her imposing voice, and she mentions Ashanti people, it is because she knew them when she lived in Ghana.

How a poet born in 1998, like Amanda Gorman, could ever encapsulate the same experience? As brilliant as she may be, there are literary prerequisite forged in people’s wound. I don’t blame the young poet who was asked for the impossible. I denounce politicians and their entourage. Joe Biden himself, if he had a real respect for literature, would have known that next to him, it should have been, the voice of the oppressed, the scream of marginalized and the soul of the trampled on.

Poetry is a serious business, and each word has its golden value. There are many poets in the tranches carrying the scars of their battle who would have given every word, the truthful sound of poetry. Poets like Sonia Sanchez, Jessica Care Moore have books describing the feeling of being Black in America. Quincy Troupe, Ishmael Reed and the list is endless.

Yet, that was not the choice. Some decision makers decided to pick someone whose bibliography does not exceed three lines. What we can conclude from this choice is that youth is used as some kind of serum to heel all wounds. The media influencers attempted to bandage society’s deep racism, misogyny with the innocent voice of a young poet.

These media gurus are doing it on purpose. One would never find such youth represented in governments, in multinational round tables or at the head of boards of directors. Inside the powerful corridors, you’d find only old white men, no women or maybe a few and not a single young minority representative.

Let’s talk about Greta Thunberg, the teenager from Sweden who appeared a few years back as the face of the environmentalist activists. This was a new face who had the task of convincing politicians like Vladimir Poutine of the necessity of fighting global warming. Let me reiterate that I don’t doubt Greta Thunberg’s struggle for environmental causes. But who could convince me that she can put her point across and get Vladimir Poutine on board? Better than Al Gore, David Suzuki or Vandana Shiva who wrote books on the subject? I doubt it vehemently.  

Western society is stuck in an illusion of progress and whenever youth is involved, it accentuates the fantasy of turning a new leaf. Under the pretext of giving a chance to a new batch of young people, we end up with new faces and extraordinarily little content.

The excitement for youth is concentrated in the art industry. Take a look at who are on our billboards. Many of these new kids on the block have one album, two books or four paintings. The importance is no more in the body of work but in the badly written book called “Fifty shades of Gray” or something to that effect.

The literary propaganda infected places of power and during the inauguration, we were entertained with what we must admire with no questions asked. This attempt to dictate our literary aesthetics is present in our TV and radio shows, driven by the need of being controversial, not relevant. The consequence of this manipulation is a considerable number of artists turned into lapdogs who would never dare to bark.

Didier Leclair, writer.

#didierleclair #didier leclair #poetry #sonia sanchez #jessica care moore #literature #politics #inauguration

[kaserl]

a general terror playlist, adapted from my even longer personal one! this is a mess of genres musically, but it is in chronological order! tracklist and associated scenes/lyrics below the cut (some songs fit completely, for others only the lyrics I listed are really relevant). thanks to @dedraconesilet for helping me place some of these and screaming with me about the terror! Restless- Cold War Kids (Discovery Service|now you’re wired and you’re tired/there is never a break/you only come alive at the thrill of the chase/no, we can’t help it/we’re always restless/we already know the ending) Ends of the Earth-Lord Huron (leaving Greenhithe|out there’s a land that time don’t command/wanna be the first to arrive//to the ends of the earth would you follow me?/there’s a world that was meant for our eyes to see//maybe I’m headin’ to die but I’m still gonna try/I guess I’m goin’ alone) Into the Wild- Lewis Watson (last sighting in Baffin Bay|and we take another step into the truly unknown/don’t know why but it’s somewhere that we have to go/and it’s dangerously wonderful/so come on, come on, come on, come on/step out into the wild) Boat Song- Woodkid (sailing through Peel Sound|can we keep our bearing straight/or will we be blown off course/are we instruments of fate?/do we really have a choice?) Jesus Christ- Brand New (“will I fly? up to God?”|and I will die all alone/and when I arrive I won’t know anyone/well, Jesus Christ, I’m not scared to die/I’m a little bit scared of what comes after) We Are- Peter Bradley Adams (parties set out to look for leads|we wait for our luck to change/and hope to come//we just watch the seasons change/and wait for the storm to break/and the land to come) North- Sleeping At Last (“the western team must be nearly home now”|we will call this place our home//let the years we’re here be kind, be kind/let our hearts, like doors, open wide, open wide) Make a Shadow- Meg Myers (“funny to think of this place as home, isn’t it?”|don’t tell me this is home) Waves- Dean Lewis (the reindeer|I watched my wild youth disappear in front of my eyes/moments of magic and wonder/it seems so hard to find/is it ever coming back again//take me back to the feeling when/everything was left to find) Can’t Stop Time- Goodnight Neverland (“we’ve seen worse than this, you and me”|you can’t stop time/we’re getting older so you close your eyes/regretting everything you left behind) Spirit Cold- Tall Heights (Crozier standing alone between Terror and Erebus|how do I wake my spirit cold?/we always say when our history’s told/if only we knew the things we know/there’s a question ages old) I Of the Storm- Of Monsters and Men (“there’s a spare captain on Erebus”|are you really going to need me/when I’m gone/I fear you won’t/I fear you don’t) Hate on Fire- Ben Hazelwood (Gibson ends things with Hickey|I won’t follow you down this road/yeah, we both know just where it goes) Heavy Hangs the Crown- Samantha Farrell (“I’ve never wanted anything as little as I want this now”|you don’t know a thing/about the trouble that I’m in/fall without a sound/heavy hangs the crown) Holocene- Bon Iver (“do you not feel what has happened?”|and at once I knew I was not magnificent/strayed above the highway aisle/(jagged vacance, thick with ice)/I could see for miles, miles, miles) The Breaking Light- Vienna Teng (Ross in the admiralty scene|let your lion heart cleave the waves/brother you will return//so listen to the darkness, listen to the patterns/listen to the breathing sea/listen to the colors, carry them inside you/they will bring you back to me) Storm Song- PHILDEL (Lady Jane organizing her own rescue|even though the landscape stretches like a hard day/even though the old man says I have a fool’s plan/oh, despite the distance, you will see my footprints/I will raise my flagpole, I will turn these tables ‘round/I’ll send a storm to capture your heart and bring you home) Metal & Dust- London Grammar (“Miss Cracroft, who rejected you?”|and so, you built a life on trust/though it starts, with love and lust/and when your house, begins to rust/oh, it’s just, metal and dust/we argue, we don’t fight) Lover/Soldier- Washington (“I have no intention of becoming a captain’s wife”|lover, you’re a soldier, you’re a long, long way from home/a long way from your mother, and you do it on our own/I don’t belong to you, and you don’t belong to me/I don’t think we need to, ‘cause it’s just so easy) That’s Okay- The Hush Sound (“with me you’ve never hesitated to be plain”|you are broken and callow/cautious and safe/you are boundless and beauty/with fright in your face/until someone loves you/I’ll keep you safe/but like them, I will give you away) I Am Not Yours- Z. Randall Stroope (Crozier pining over Sophia|I am not yours, not lost in you/although I long to be//you love me, and I find you still/a spirit beautiful and bright) Hide and Seek - Imogen Heap (“much to do on Terror is all, sir”|where are we? what the hell is going on?/the dust has only just begun to fall/crop circles in the carpet, sinking, feeling/spin me ‘round again and rub my eyes/this can’t be happening) The Hunger in Your Haunt- Crywolf (Hickey gives Gibson Young’s ring|where are all the things that you have toiled all your life for?/was it me you wanted when you said you/wanted something more than what you knew?) I’ll Be Good- Jaymes Young (Crozier decides to stop drinking|my past has tasted bitter for years now/so I wield an iron fist/grace is just weakness/or so I’ve been told/I’ve been cold, I’ve been merciless/but the blood on my hands scares me to death/maybe I’m waking up today) I Will Try-Deaf Havana (Crozier’s intervention|and I will try my best to find a smile/and I will close my eyes and say I’m not afraid/and it’s time that I was clear of all the negativity that I hold so dear/I lost my sight for far too long to take my mind off all my fears/but I found my way again) Look After You- The Fray (“you needn’t worry for a thing, sir”|I’ll look after you/it’s always have and never hold/you’ve begun to feel like home) Trout Heart Replica- Amanda Palmer (Goodsir feeding Jacko from the tins|and killing things is not so hard/it’s hurting that’s the hardest part/and when the wizard gets to me/I’m asking for a smaller heart/and if he tells me “no”/I’ll hold my breath until I hit the floor/eventually I know I’m doomed to get what I am asking for) Give Me A Sign-Breaking Benjamin (Crozier in withdrawal|I’ll keep you alive/if you show me the way/forever–and ever/the scars will remain/I’m falling apart/leave me here forever in the dark/God help me I’ve come undone/out of the light of the sun) Keep Breathing- Ingrid Michaelson (Crozier on the upswing|but all that I know is I’m breathing/all I can do is keep breathing/all we can do is keep breathing now) Organs- Of Monsters and Men (Silna trying to take her father’s place|I should not care but I don’t know how/so I take off my face/because it reminds me how it all went wrong/and I pull out my tongue/because it reminds me how it all went wrong) Bleachless- Elizabeth Grace (Goodsir looking at Jacko’s body|‘cause when your life’s on the table/then there’s not much left to hide/begging for contagion/these hospitals won’t save us/and when these toxins leave us/it’s sad when we’ll be bleachless/'cause all you have to say/is that it’s gonna get better/it’s gonna get better/but it never does) Comes and Goes (In Waves)- Greg Laswell (Crozier’s speech at Carnivale|this one’s for the lonely, the ones that seek and find/only to be let down time after time/this one’s for the torn down, the experts at the fall/come on friends, get up now, you’re not alone at all) Runaway- The National (Stanley’s suicide|there’s no saving anything/how we swallow the sun/but I won’t be no runaway/'cause I won’t run//we got another thing coming undone/and it’s taking us over/ we don’t bleed when we don’t fight) Forest Fire- Brighton (fire|I keep imagining those flames that did rise/and blackened up the sky/the light that showed you barefoot in the snow/and then the fire started building up inside/exploding blinding lights/now I’m the one left screaming through the night//I’m gonna carry your bones/I’m gonna carry them all/I’m gonna carry you home) Stay Alive- José González (the dawn after Carnivale|I will stay with you tonight/hold you close 'til the morning light/in the morning watch a new day rise/we’ll do whatever just to stay alive) We Are Broken- Paramore (“these men need names yet”|'cause we are broken/what must we do to restore/our innocence/and oh, the promise we adored/give us life again/'cause we just wanna be whole) The Ice Is Getting Thinner- Death Cab for Cutie (abandoning ship|we’re not the same, dear, as we used to be/the seasons have changed and so have we/there was little we could say, and even less that we could do/to stop the ice from getting thinner under me and you) Sleeping Sickness- City And Colour (“horrible from supper”|someone come and, someone come and save my life/maybe I’ll sleep when I am dead/but now it’s like the night is taking sides/with all the worries that occupy the back of my mind/could it be this misery will suffice?) Disarm- The Civil Wars (Hickey realizes something’s wrong with the tinned food|the killer in me is the killer in you/send this smile over to you) Follow You- Bring Me the Horizon (Crozier helping Fitzjames up the ice|my head is haunting me and my heart feels like a ghost/I need to feel something, cause I’m still so far from home//so you can drag me through Hell/if it meant I could hold your hand) People Help the People- Birdy (more hand-holding|people help the people/and if you’re homesick/give me your hand and I’ll hold it) Medicine- Daughter (Morfin’s death|pick it up, pick it all up/and start again/you’ve got a second chance/you could go home/escape it all/it’s just irrelevant/it’s just medicine) This Woman’s Work- Greg Laswell (Goodsir’s panic attack|I know you have a little life in you yet/I know you have a lot of strength left/I should be crying, but I just can’t let it show/I should be hoping but I can’t stop thinking) Calm My Soul- Paper Route (Irving’s death|I’ve seen too much this year/I long for it to pass/the type of memories/that turn our heart to glass//in dust my ribs were formed/and I’ll return again/calm my soul) Helplessness Blues- Fleet Foxes (“do you know how I was appointed to this expedition?”|what’s my name, what’s my station, oh, just tell me what I should do/I don’t need to be kind to the armies of night that would do such injustice to you/or bow down and be grateful and say “sure, take all that you see”/to the men who move only in dimly-lit halls and determine my future for me) Dance to Another Tune- First Aid Kit (“I’m a fake, brother”|will you look at me?/take a good look at me and tell me who/it is that I am//everything is tiresome, everything grows old/with each secret revealed, there’s another to be told) We Don’t Eat- James Vincent McMorrow (“my father was a ridiculous man”|me, I was holding all of my secrets soft and hid/pages were folded, then there was nothing at all/so if in the future I might need myself a savior/I’ll remember what was written on that wall/that we don’t eat until your father’s at the table) Surrender the Night- My Chemical Romance (I didn’t know any of that|you surrender your heart/I surrender every dream/every weapon you’ve got/every secret that I keep) See Through- Pentatonix (“I’ve never said it out loud before now”|all of me uncharted/begs to be explored//I am see through, baby/and I don’t wanna hide/for the very first time) Unclear- Kodaline (“I always felt I deserved more”|when the future’s so unsure/when the future’s so unclear/so you swallow your heart and you swallow your pride/you gotta be tough if you wanna survive/they’ll chew you up and they’ll eat you alive/you shouldn’t give up on the dreams in your mind) Neptune- Sleeping At Last (“are we brothers, Francis?”|a strong wind at my back/so I lift up the only sail that I have/this tired white flag//I’m only honest when it rains/an open book with a torn out page/and my ink’s run out/I want to love you but I don’t know how) Brothers on a Hotel Bed- Death Cab for Cutie (Fitzjames looking at his bullet wounds|you may tire of me as our December sun is setting because I’m not who I used to be/no longer easy on the eyes but these wrinkles masterfully disguise/the youthful boy below who turned your way and saw/something he was not looking for: both a beginning and an end/but now he lives inside someone he does not recognize/when he catches his reflection on accident) human-Christina Perri (“worst kind of sorry”|I’m only human/and I crash and I break down/your words in my head, knives in my heart/you build me up and then I fall apart) Paint Me Black- Ben Hazelwood (“every man lies”|changing, rearranging/under your call, we all fall/just know that I won’t follow you further/I’m taking over, I’m now the leader) I’ll Follow You- Shinedown (“more than God loves them”|the first step is the one you believe in/the second one might be profound/I’ll follow you down through the eye of the storm/don’t worry I’ll keep you warm) All Fall Down- OneRepublic (walking out|yeah God love your soul and your aching bones/take a breath, take a step, meet me down below/everyone’s the same/our fingers to our toes/we just can’t get it right/but we’re on the road) Stay Gold- First Aid Kit (walking out|what if to love and be loved’s not enough?/what if I fall and can’t bear to get up?/oh, I wish, for once, we could stay gold) Soldier On- The Temper Trap (walking out|all that is gold is rusting/no one will know/when seasons cease to change and:/how far we’ve gone/how far we’re going/it’s the here and the now/and the love for the sound/of the moments that keep us moving) Chin Up- Copeland (Fitzjames collapses|back to where we started/losing who we were/everybody knows that/you’d break your neck to keep your chin up) Old Wounds- PVRIS (“there is time”|they say don’t open old wounds/but this is still brand new/and I’ve got nothing left to lose besides you/and I’ve already lost you once) Landfill- Daughter (Hickey killing Gibson|leave me in the rain/wait until my clothes cling to my frame/wipe away your tear stains/thought you said you didn’t feel pain/well this is torturous electricity/between both of us and this is/dangerous, 'cause I want you so much/but I hate your guts) Save Yourself- Birdy (“my body… use it”|heaven knows, heaven knows/there’s no way to save us/look at what we have become/empty hearts that spare no one/save yourself my darling/just be gone by morning) You’re Not Alone- Saosin (“God wants you to live”|you’re not alone/there is more to this, I know/you can make it out/you will live to tell) The Way It Ends- Landon Pigg (“help me out of it”|this is the way it ends/don’t tell me it’s meaningless//you held me and taught me how/I think I am ready now/if this is the way it ends/this is the way it’s meant to be) Goner- Twenty One Pilots (eye contact|I’m a goner, somebody catch my breath/I wanna be known by you) Carry You Home- James Blunt (Fitzjames dies|as strong as you were, tender you go/I’m watching you breathing for the last time/a song for your heart, but when it is quiet/I know what it means and I’ll carry you home) Corpse Roads- Keaton Henson [not on spotify] (“we both know what’s coming for me”|and don’t lie, don’t lie/don’t lie, I know we’re fixing to die/and I’ll be like this 'til the long sleeper cry/and I won’t give in, we’ll be dead in the eyes/and I’ll see the dark things that you all try to hide/and I won’t be the damnedest bit fucking surprised The Light Behind Your Eyes- My Chemical Romance (“at least love me enough to admit it”|never let them take the light behind your eyes/I’ll fail and lose this fight/never fade in the dark/just remember you will always burn as bright//when I’m here, no longer/you must be stronger) No Sound But the Wind- Editors (Peglar collapses|if I say shut your eyes/if I say look away/bury your face in my shoulder/think of a birthday/the things you put in your head/they will stay here forever/our blood is cold/and we’re alone, love/but I’m alone with you) Be Still- The Killers (“give me forty minutes”|be still/close your eyes/soon enough you’ll be on your own/steady and straight/and if they drag you through the mud/it doesn’t change what’s in your blood/(over rock, over chain, over trap, over plain)/when they knock you down/don’t break character) Cemetery- Say Anything (Hickey eating Gibson|you’re in my body/that’s where I think about you) White Foxes- Susanne Sundfør (“I’m hungry and I want to live”|hunger, hunger, is the purest sin/it is an empty church in a crowded bin) Sword and the Pen- Regina Spektor (“I love the C”|for those who still can recall/the desperate colors of fall/the sweet caresses of May/only in poems remain/no one recites them these days/for the shame/so what if nothing is safe/so what if no one is saved/no matter how sweet/no matter how brave/what if each to his own lonely grave/I don’t want to live without you) One Last Time- Jaymes Young (Bridgens holding Peglar’s hand|could I feel your skin on mine/before I have to say goodbye/could I breathe, please, one last time/you’re in my lungs before I curl up/and die) Fires- Allman Brown (Bridgens walks away to die|in a torch there’s a thousand years unknown/voices tell me a truth I nearly know/this will all soon be memory/I was made in the fires/of your care for me//and I will find you in the next life) Be Still- The Fray (“you can lie there, not feeling well, while I try and cheer you up”|be still and know that I’m with you/be still and know that I am here) Come Back When You Can- Barcelona (Sophia in the snow|come back when you can/let go, you’ll understand/you’ve done nothing at all to make me love you less/so come back when you can) Saturn- Sleeping At Last (“this place is beautiful to me even now”|with shortness of breath, I’ll explain the infinite/how rare and beautiful it truly is that we exist) If I Be Wrong- Wolf Larsen (Little and Le Vesconte go south|and what if I can’t, what if I can/what if I’m just an ordinary man/if there is a will, there is a way/I will escape for sure, I am David Blaine//and I have been wrong, I have been right/I have been both these things all in the same night) Tether- CHVRCHES (Jopson’s death|where’d you go, you were there by my side/keep believing it’s my turn to hide/in a place where we don’t have a prayer/there’s a tether that’s keeping me there) Two Evils- Bastille (“I didn’t have anywhere near an equal on this expedition, but you”|there are two ways to skin tonight/let’s see whose road gets there faster/this is a game, no wrongs, no right/only a winner and a loser/you and I, oh you and I/we’re not that different, you and I) Jupiter- Sleeping At Last (Goodsir’s suicide|I don’t know who I am, but now I know who I’m now//make my messes matter/make this chaos count/let every little fracture in me/shatter out loud) Bleeding Out- Imagine Dragons (Goodsir’s suicide|I’m bleeding out/so if the last thing that I do/is bring you down/I’ll bleed out for you/so I bare my skin/and I count my sins/and I close my eyes/and I take it in) Somebody to Die For- Hurts (“give me your gun, I’m the best shot here”|and I will let the devil know that/I was brave enough to die/and there’s no hell that he can show me/that’s deeper than my pride) The Keeper- Kina Grannis (Crozier muttering the names of his men|sand and stone, struggles to claim and own/(take my burden, I can’t bear the weight)/wars lost won, promises come undone/(I’ve been fighting, trying not to break)/nobody has to know//I will be your keeper) How’m I Supposed to Die- Civil Twilight (the last men falling|and the flesh that used to tingle/has turned a marble blue?/and you tell me that/we can never go back/what am I to say to that?//there’s only one thing left to do) Everything That Dies- Matthew and the Atlas (Crozier finding the last camps|you said everyone you know one day will surely die/but everything that dies in some way returns) Voices Off Camera- Rise Against (”close?”|we either choose to follow or be left on our own/so we’re leaving here on a less-travelled road/as desperate cries grow louder, I know we’re getting close, getting close) Friends Are Dead- Dresses (Crozier walking away with Silna|I’m wandering saintless debris/'cause the saints they arose/heaven took them home/and now I am lonely/this is how it ends, all my friends are dead/I know that I fucked up, the life of a cultural/how can I pretend that everything’s alright/when no one can find me alone in this wasteland?) Lovely- Billie Eilish (“decide in the spring”|isn’t it lovely? all alone/heart made of glass, my mind of stone/tear me to pieces, skin to bone/hello, welcome home/walking out of time/looking for a better place) I Am Only One- We Are the Fallen (Silna leaves|I’m on my own here/and no one’s left to be the hero of/this fairy tale gone wrong/as night will fall, my heart will die alone/ever after never came/and I’m still waiting for my heart to beat again/and all the dreams I’ve laid to rest/are ghosts that keep me/after all that I’ve become/I am only one) Ghost Towns- Radical Face (Crozier in the Arctic|'cause all my life is wrapped up in today/no past or future here/if I find my name’s no good/I just fall out of line/but I miss you/but there’s no comin’ home/there’s no comin’ home/with a name like mine) Exile- Show of Hands (Crozier in the Arctic|I can dream before the break of day/that I’m back with you again/then the morning blows it all away/and leaves an echo of your name/still a thousand miles lie between us/where we’re waking up alone/and what if I could cross a thousand borders/there’s no going home) Until the End- Breaking Benjamin (Crozier chooses to stay|why give up, why give in?/it’s not enough, it never is/so I will go on until the end/we’ve become desolate/it’s not enough, it never is/but I will go on until the end) Hurt- Johnny Cash (“we are gone”|what have I become/my sweetest friend/everyone I know goes away/in the end/and you could have it all/my empire of dirt/I will let you down/I will make you hurt) Bring Me Home-Fahrenhaidt (Crozier walks away|will you find, will you find, will you find me alone?/when you’re far out over the water I’ll be there too/will you find, will you find, will you find me and bring me home?/are you lost/are you chasing hollow dreams/are you lost/was it worth forsaking me?) The Ocean- The Bravery (Crozier and Ross|I climbed up a mountain, and looked off the edge/at all of the lives that I never have led/there’s one where I stayed with you across the sea/I wonder do you still think of me/I carry your image always in my head/folded and yellowed and torn at the edge/and I’ve looked upon it for so many years/slowly I am losing your face) In the Wind- Lord Huron (Robert Goodsir aboard Felix|you’ve been gone for a long long time/you’ve been in the wind, you’ve been on my mind/you are the purest soul I’ve ever known in my life//when you left I was far too young/to know you’re worth more than the moon and the sun/you are still alive when I look to the sky in the night) Frozen Oceans- Shiny Toy Guns (those left behind|ten thousand miles apart/a frozen ocean joins our hearts/I can’t wait to meet you when/the frozen waves meet ocean floors/you’ll be standing on the shore/I can’t wait to meet you then) Come Home- OneRepublic (those left behind|come home, come home/'cause I’ve been waiting for you/for so long, so long) Fields of Gold- Celtic Woman (nostalgia|you’ll remember me when the west wind moves/among the fields of barely/you can tell the sun in his jealous sky/when we walked in fields of gold) Arctic- Sleeping At Last (the last shot of Crozier)

#the terror #the terror amc #amc the terror #terrorposting #fanmix #playlist #I finished the monster playlist!!! less canon-compliant/possibly more musically coherent playlists to come #someday #music #playlists #the read more and spacing between songs aren’t showing up for me on the app I am very sorry if that’s the case for anyone else

[a-swines-baptism]

🎂 [hewo I'm coming with either Samuel or Bass, whoever you prefer :3]

If we’re mutuals, send 🎂 and I’ll make you a treat!

{For this treat, @the-bastard-entity, I’m going to give us a look at one of many possible futures. Nothing nsfw, but cut for length.}

Amanda was a terribly good killer when she wanted to be. Some killers take too long to get to the kill, some play with their food, and some take the time to try and fraternize with their prey-- though a correction is always quick to follow those contemptible few. But the Pig, she’s industrious. Head down, methodical, ruthless. Even when she toys with the Survivors, placing those brutal deathtraps on their head, it’s always efficient. Not unlike a butcher, just another day at the slaughterhouse. Frankly, it’s for this reason that the upstart Entity usually doesn’t pay all that much attention to her trials. They just aren’t nearly as entertaining as they could be-- and they could be amazing. Her mind is built for cruelty in such a unique and special capacity. But with the attitude she carries out her games with, even watching the timer on a trapped mask go off and rip someone’s jaws apart can get old. The only exceptions seem to be when Jude’s involved. Seeing the way they have to dance around conflict with each other, it’s very dramatic. Pulls at the heartstrings, and when they’re placed on opposite sides like this there’s at least a chance for a trial worth watching. Otherwise, it’s just... old hat.

Anyways, his angel’s not there now. In the trial, that is. There’s no reason for the Entity to be watching Amanda go through the motions again, beyond the slight sliver of awareness he holds across the entire Fog. Or at least, that’s how it seems at first. The only thing that keys him off to any difference is a faint pulse of displeasure, coming from one of their fellow Entities... whichever one of their kin the Pig happens to be feeding this time, no one they’re familiar with. It’s a simple task to shift his awareness away from his personal realm, like looking over one’s shoulder-- and he’s greeted with a grisly spectacle as the pig-headed killer punches her knife through the hand of a screaming survivor, nailing it to their throat and twisting the blade for good measure. A memento mori... from her of all people? Now this is unusual.

As he watches, the Pig stands from her kill and starts to chase after the next one... and kills him the same way. And then the third meets the same fate. The Entity can feel frustration pouring off his brethren, denied food like this, but his interest is too piqued to do anything but watch as she runs down the last victim. What is she doing, what would possess her to break from her habits so hard...? The Pig’s cornered the last survivor now, and this time she pauses before doing anything. Looks around, locks eyes with the nearby crow that the Entity is currently watching through. And then she places a bear trap over their head, sets the timer, and with a deft stroke draws her blade deep across both their wrists.

Now he gets it. Somewhat.

Curiosity piqued, the Entity lets himself draw inwards, appearing out of the fog as the trial evaporates and standing behind Amanda. “That was quite the show,” he remarks, a smug grin pulling across his face as she turns to face him. “I’m sure you’ll be paying for it later. But I’ll admit I’m a little curious, what’s got you trying to attract my attention like this, little piggy?” He half-expects her to bull rush him any moment, not that it would end well for her. The killer is nothing if not headstrong, after all, especially when it comes to what she hates. But the attack doesn’t come; instead, there’s a moment of silence. “Go on, say your piece,” he prompts after a moment of staring down her pale blue eyes through her mask, his own golden eyes narrowed in a mixture of curiosity and amusement. “You went through all this trouble to get me here, there’s no point in wasting each other’s time like this.”

There’s another beat of silence, shorter this time, before she speaks. “Do you like Jude?” There’s a hesitance in her voice, blunting the usual aggression (although it’s certainly still there). “--Not as a plaything, either, you know what I mean.” He raises an eyebrow at the question, the faintest hint of laughter behind his words. “Amanda, dear, I know you hate me, but you can’t possibly be getting jealous, can y--” “Answer the fucking question.” She cuts him off, actually taking the young god aback the slightest bit. Not because of her nerve, but because of the odd lack of malice in her voice. “--Please. I know you’re gonna fuck with me, I know that’s what you do, but I’m asking for a reason. Tell me.” That’s all. No insults, no smartass comments, she’s actually minding herself for once. It’s odd, just adding to the pile of oddness that this entire encounter is. And the Entity finds himself pausing, actually considering her question— purely out of curiosity, mind. He wants to know where she’s going with this.

“Jude is many things... beautiful. Fiery. So very sweet, I’m sure you’d agree with all that,” he responds, tapping his chin idly in mock thoughtfulness. “He is many wonderful things, and these things outweigh his annoyances. So I would say I am fond of him. Does that satisfy you?” He grins a smug, condescending grin as he regards the curious killer. “I’m an Entity, piggy. Caring about his kind is like asking you to care for an ant. But I am fond of him, sure.” Amanda seems to process this for a second, before she sighs and shakes her head. “Fine, then are you ever going to punish him again?” Her tone is still as unusually controlled, but the Entity can hear loathing pulse under the skin of her words. Again, a strange question, doesn’t she understand what he is? Granted... well, surely Jude’s learned by now. “...Not unless it was required.” Hardly a guarantee, hardly safe. But as good as one could expect from such a god. “Now it’s your turn to answer a question, though. Why does anything I say about it matter? Sure, you’re scared for Jude, but your mind’s already made up on me, isn’t it? Tell me, Amanda, what warrants all this?” He gestures again to the trialground, to the bodies.

There’s a very long pause before she speaks. “Yeah, my mind’s made up on you. Kind of hard to feel anything besides hate after you did... what you did, to both of us. To him.” She stops, hesitating. “--But for some reason, whatever you did to him... he can’t feel the same way. I see that, and... I don’t fucking know, maybe this is me feeling like I can keep him safe? Or make things easier... I don’t know. But the fucking tension here is gonna get him hurt one way or another, so... I have to do this.” She seems to direct the last bit at herself, before raising her hands and clenching them nervously. Snap, out comes the blade, and the Entity just watches, bemused. A long claw spiders quietly out of the ground behind her, tensing to strike--

And then she relaxes her hands, and the knife withdraws. And she’s left with her hands up, a gesture of surrender. And it’s just enough of a surprise to cause the readied talon to pause. “--I want to be your killer. If he’s going to go with you... I’m not letting him go alone.” The fog is quiet. And the Entity has a choice.

#[the pig speaks] #[meat to slaughter] #the-bastard-entity #{gods I hope that's an okay ending my brain has been burnt the *fuck* out} #{but if jude accepts bass' offer then} #{well}

[everythingirl44]

23 + 7 + 40 for Staticquake?

23 = Performer AU, 7 = Florist AU,  40 = Almost Kiss 

I saw this and thought of the movie Forever My Girl, so I took some inspiration from it. Side note, I recommend the movie. It's cute, fluffy, and made me cry. Okay back to the mashup, hope you enjoy it!

Lincoln Campbell was a famous singer-songwriter from a small town. He left when he was nineteen, leaving behind his mom and sister. That was almost five years ago now, he hasn’t seen or heard from his family since he left. He was currently finishing a concert in LA, intending to leave the next morning to go to Arizona for the last show. That all changed when he got a very unexpected call from his sister. According to her, their mom had been sick for the past three years. The doctors weren’t sure how long she had left. Amanda was begging him to come home before it was too late. Five years ago Lincoln would have told her to leave him alone, that he was happy with his life. He couldn’t say no to her, this was his mother. He was backstage with his manager and producer. Bobbi and Hunter took a chance on a young kid and it paid off. 

“Look mate I’m sympathetic really, but this is the last show before your European tour.” Lincoln explained that he had to go home, his mom was sick. Bobbi and Hunter cared, but Lincoln had been falling off the rails lately. He wasn’t writing as many songs, he was drinking more, and ditching his bodyguard Mack. 

“Maybe we can rearrange a few things. You can play the show once you're back from Europe. It will be fine Hunter. Lincoln, take the next few weeks off and go home.” Lincoln didn’t have to be told twice, the next morning he was on the next plane home. He had to rent a car and drive almost an hour from the city to get home. He wasn’t sure where to stop first. He was driving through the town when he saw his mom's florist was still open. Guess that was his first stop, maybe Amanda was working? He pulled over in front of the store. It looked exactly the same. Lincoln used to sit behind the counter doing homework while his mom arranged flowers. 

“Hey! Amanda are you there!” He shouted leaning over the counter, looking into the back room. He heard someone curse as something hit the ground. Footsteps started approaching, he backed away from the counter in shock of who was there. 

“No, she’s at home-” Daisy stopped halfway through her sentence when she saw him. Daisy was Amanda's best friend, they were both two years younger than Lincoln. Back in high school, he had a small thing with Daisy. She was always at their house or Amanda was always at her house. He left her that day too. 

“Daisy, what are you doing here?” It was barely a mumble, his eyes downcasted. He didn’t know how to look her in the eyes. He left everyone without saying goodbye except her. The same morning he left, he went to her house to break up with her. 

“I work here after your mom got sick Amanda took over. I started helping out and you know I always loved flowers.” She said shrugging her shoulders, bringing her arms around herself. Lincoln bought a bouquet to bring home, Daisy watched him leave. Trying to blink back the tears that were blooming in her eyes. She mustered up the courage to call Amanda and thoroughly inform her about how mad she was. It totally slipped her mind that maybe Daisy wouldn’t want to see Lincoln after what happened. Lincoln spent the next two weeks with his family. That included trying to fix the mess he made with Daisy. His mom started getting better, he was able to stay with her and take her to doctor appointments. Some more time passed and he decided it was time to go fix things with Daisy. He showed up to the shop knowing she was working because Amanda was home. She looked up from helping the customer giving him a small glare. He wasn’t doing his best with trying to fix their relationship. He looked around seeing a bouquet of daisies. Smiling to himself he picked it up and waited for her to finish with the customer. The lady left and she stepped forward smiling at her. 

“That will be seventeen fifty-nine.” She said typing on the register. He took out his credit card and signed for the flowers. Lincoln continued to stand there eyeing her carefully. 

“Anything else Lincoln?” Daisy let out an aggravated sigh. He held the flowers out to her and asked if she would consider going out with him. That was something she really wasn’t expecting. No matter how angry she was at him, she still loved him. Daisy took the flowers and agreed to go to dinner Saturday night. Daisy’s parents weren’t exactly happy about her going out with Lincoln again. Especially after they found her crying on the porch at seven in the morning. The minute that doorbell rang she went running down the stairs seeing Lincoln and behind him a limo. They drove into the city, Lincoln asked Hunter to pull a few strings to get them a table at a restaurant. No one knew they were there except Hunter and Bobbi, who told the tabloids he was in New York. So the paparazzi were running around New York trying to find him. 

“Lincoln this is amazing.” Daisy’s smile was wide as they sat down in the quiet restaurant. She never left town before, she had no reason too. The city was beautiful and the restaurant was amazing. By the time dessert came around, they became those cheesy couples that fed each other cake. Lincoln suggested they walk in the park, at first Daisy thought it was a bad idea. He convinced her it would be fine because it was dark outside, no one would spot them. Right? The two walked across the street, Daisy’s arm linked around his. They stopped by the fountain in the center of the park. There were few people walking through. Some walking their dogs or walking with partners and friends. 

“Thank you, Lincoln. This has been amazing.” He didn’t realize how much he missed her smile. He moved to tuck a loose strand behind her ear, dragging his hand down her jaw. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes then looked down at his lips. Their noses brushed and what was supposed to be a kiss turned into a photoshoot. The paparazzi started swarming them, then came along the screaming fans. Lincoln quickly pushed Daisy behind him, trying to hide her from the flashing lights. He tried pushing through the crowd, but there was no luck. 

“Hey out of the way!” The familiar yell of his bodyguard could be heard somewhere in the crowd. Pushing their way through was Mack, Bobbi, Hunter, and the security team. Bobbi got around to Daisy helping her through the crowd. Hunter grabbed Lincoln's arm and dragged him out. They got them into a car, Lincoln could see Hunter was furious with him. Daisy seemed pretty freaked out about what just happened and Bobbi was doing her best to calm her down. 

“How could you be so stupid Lincoln!” Hunter wasn’t usually the serious one, but he did have to shoot through some hoops to get that reservation. 

“I told you, not once but twice. You go to the restaurant then you go home. Someone tipped off that you were in town having dinner with some girl.�� He continued to shout at Lincoln. He couldn’t even reply to Hunter. Looking at Daisy, she looked a little out of it. He was used to the lights, the screaming, and the questions. Bobbi asked if she was doing okay. Daisy nodded and continued sipping on the water. Lincoln turned his attention back to Hunter, who was still a shade of red. 

“Now her face is going to be plastered on every magazine. What are you gonna tell people Lincoln? I went home to visit my sick mother and walked out with a girlfriend?” He said sarcastically. Bobbi glared at Hunter for what he said. 

“Say I was some groupie, I’ll go home and you don’t even have to see me again.” Daisy suggested, the three of them looked over at her confused. 

“What? No, we’re not saying that.” Lincoln said quickly, trying to shut down that idea. 

“Why not? I'm just going to make your life more complicated. You love being a musician, that's why you left.” The mood in the car changed after that. Bobbi wished they could give the two some privacy, but they were in a moving car. 

“Because Daisy saying goodbye to you was the hardest thing I had to do! I knew you wouldn’t want this life, so I tried to keep you out of it!” He yelled back at her. Daisy being the stubborn person she was shouted back. 

“You left two days after my graduation! You came knocking on my door at seven in the morning and broke up with me! Then you left, for five years without a call or text. How do you think that feels, Lincoln! Someone you love and thought loved you back just leaves!” Bobbi and Hunter tried to redirect their attention to the windows. Lincoln and Daisy were arguing as if they weren’t even there. 

“I do love you Daisy and that's why I said goodbye. I couldn’t just leave you without some explanation.” That sent Daisy over the edge. She forced them to stop the car and got out. Lincoln quickly got out after her, he kept trying to reason with her and she kept walking. He grabbed her arm and begged her to stop.

“I haven’t made the best choices in life, Daisy. Leave you and my family was one of them, but I want to make up for it now. So I’m not letting you go, not again.” He said softer. Daisy whipped a tear away and tried to give him a smile. 

“Promise?” She asked quietly. Lincoln gave a small nod leaning down in hopes to finish what they started. Once again their noses brushed and once again they were interrupted by the media. This time they didn’t run or except Hunter and Bobbi to save them. 

“Lincoln! Lincoln, is this your girlfriend!” A reporter yelled from somewhere in the crowd. Lincoln glanced down at Daisy who smiled up at him. He looked back at the reporters leaning forward into a microphone. 

“Yes, yes she is.” He said before they pushed their way through the crowd back to the car. Once inside Daisy rested her head on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her. He was finally home.

#staticquake #tropes mashup #almost kiss #florist au #preformer au

[taeguboi]

BTS as... ‘ordinary’ employees

Okay so when I say ‘ordinary’ I mean as in not famous basically. This is more what I just have personally imagined them doing and I think I’ve lost that somewhat ‘realistic’ touch I used to have a few years back when I was more of an avid writer for this blog and could have an idea of their actual personalities, current likes, etc. This is also in no way a reflection of what I think they are and aren’t capable of so please don’t scream at me if your bias has a ‘lower’ role than you might have expected.

Sorry I do like to blabber on before these things, don’t I? 

I hope everybody is staying safe anyways and happy imagining!

BTS as... Masterlist here

RM

Pawn Shop Sales Assistant

learning everything about every thing

if you have an object to sell for cash

he probably knows everything about it

or at least like a lot about it

his career is in early days right now

because it’s a family trade

but he learns from the best

but asks not to be favourited over other staff just because he’s the manager’s son

like you know he wants someone to tell him if they think he didn’t get a good deal for that ring

no special treatment please

sometimes uses a bit of the old charm to get a good deal

many girls like that

some of the guys not so much

especially the boyfriends

whoops

meets his wife there

she’s a fairly regular customer

buying good finds from charity shops

or finding stuff in the house

and taking them to the pawn shop to get by and save up a little

they really click

after like the 11th visit he finally plucks up the courage to ask her out

“so, uh... I clock off soon and I was wondering if....

uh....”

and he gets quite flustered because he really likes her

“... would you like to maybe grab a coffee with me?”

and she sort of teases him to fluster him

“I don’t like coffee”

“Oh erm....”

“Just kidding”

and inside he’s like “don’t DO that to me!”

fast forward a few years and he’s got a kid with her

but anyway back to joon as an employee

has many many friends in and around the industry

just people over the years who he’s needed to contact to double check some stuff about an item

sometimes there’s the odd nutter who comes into the shop

like any shop really let’s be honest

but oddly enough, Namjoon has a calming effect on them

maybe he’s just really patient

maybe he has great negotiating skills

but if someone kicks off at one of his colleagues

it’s resolved in under ten - fifteen minutes

he reasons with people who are shocked to find out that their gold isn’t actually real gold

or negotiates with those who thought they had something worth more

or sometimes just has to outright sass back at the aggressive ones

but most people find him to be an agreeable guy

banter with his dad / manage

rand although he gets on with everyone there

there’s that one colleague that just becomes his best mate

and this mate is also in on the banter

but again, there’s no staff feeling left out or not getting the same treatment

it’s a family business

and anyone that helps them along the way is family too

Jin

Sales Assistant

in a big supermarket

stacking shelves

helps customers that can’t reach the higher shelves

such a gentleman

lovely customer service

some wish they could give him a tip

but he wouldn’t take it most of the time even if it was allowed

he doesn’t need to be paid to show basic kindness

it’s just manners really

but he doesn’t fully realise how much he goes above and beyond

very patient at explaining stuff to people

he’ll repeat directions 10 times if he has to

and he helps the elderly make smarter shopping choices

not that his manager knows that though

because he’s supposed to focus on building up bigger transactions

but what can he say

he’s just a people person

empathy and understanding levels are like 1000/10

a good bean

wish you could be served by him all the time

people purposely queue up at his lane when he’s on tills

because he just provides a friendly smile 

and pleasant conversation

“how was your day?”

and he’s not saying it because he has to

he’s genuinely interested in what everybody has to say

takes forever but becomes a supervisor

some of his workers often mistake his kindness for dumbness

is that a word, ‘dumb...ness’?

but actually he more than knows what he’s doing

cashes up faster than anyone else ever

has solid ideas to help both business and customer

and whilst it’s a bit difficult getting them out there to higher people

they go for it

from ideas about what customers have previously asked for that the store doesn’t - didn’t - have

to community projects courtesy of tokens from shoppers

even a park that gets set up nearby is named after him

he may seem like just a sales guy to an outsider

but really he’s the heart of the local community

Suga

Tech Support

the funniest you could come across

you know, if you were listening in to the way he deals with some

just pay attention and there won’t be any problems

sometimes he’ll have those days where he’s like

*sigh*

“Have you tried turning it off and on again?”

totally not an IT Crowd reference oops

but seriously that can work like half the time

used to work in some dull office

but took his work to his house

he can basically work wherever and whenever he wants now

as long as he’s got a laptop and a connection

that is the one change he made in his life that made him a lot happier

because although some might turn their noses up to a job like this

it suits him down to the bone

and he doesn’t really care to change career paths any time soon

is up to date with all the tech trends

owns one of everything

well most things

he even has like a drawer of many phones

it’s like a museum of the company he works for lmao

has this spare room that he turned into an office

which definitely could be mistaken for a man cave

the ultimate problem solver

in work and in life

like he can get a phone call about a super complex problem 

and he knows what to do just like that

or a mate has a problem with some relationship

and the reply he gives them is just wow

and he’ll have just made their problem sound a lot less stressful or problematic

loves to help people in and out of work

he understands that the people he is helping might be at their worst moment in their work

or it’s an older person desperately wanting to contact family

he doesn’t just solve the technological problems

he calms you at the beginning of the call

he motivates you at the end and wishes you luck

he talks you through the technology in layman’s terms so you can understand what it is you’re doing

and that attitude continues in his social life

he’s the sober friend when you’re crying in the club toilet drunk

he’s the friend that comes knocking on your door because he hasn’t heard from you in a while and he wants to check everything is okay

he will drop you a phone call the day after to see how you’re hanging

or just because

just because he’s an absolute sweetheart

J-Hope

College Tutor

the type that is fairly laid back

but won’t take any shit 

so go through your assignment at your own pace

just don’t take the mickey

like he will understand that you might have some personal shit going on

and he’ll extend a deadline under special circumstances

but don’t push your luck by lying to him

happy to have banter with the students

makes lessons fun

but also productive

actually the most productive class(es) of anyone’s day

he’s just one of those tutors you’d love 

because he’s engaging

and there’s that one other tutor that no one really likes

because this other guy is boring, dull, basically almost jealous of the students and their ambitions

and although Hoseok won’t say a bad word about his colleague

he can teach you more in half an hour than the other guy does in the entire year

and when you pass the unit he won’t even take credit for the significant part he played

really fucking modest

but he really is one of those teachers that builds lives

keeps quite to himself generally though

has just a small group of friends outside of the college

it’s important to him to keep professional and personal life different

just an overall cool guy

very fair

some say a bit boring

but he’s just sensible really

no one from colleges knows he has a wife

some girls swoon over him and speculate he could be single

and usually he’s oblivious to / ignores any flirting

he’s just here to do his job

he’s here to educate

and he’s here to help you

and he’s happy to help you

Jimin

Dance Instructor

yes, it’s a bit of a typical idea, sorry

but come on

dishy dance teacher whilst you try to learn a style of dance

some students may or may not purposely so bits wrong

because they know Jimin can sometimes be quite physical in his teaching

“Okay, no worries, let’s go back to that bit... It goes like...”

and he’s just behind you to guide you

nice

has his own dance school

holds sessions in the local community centre every weekday night

Monday: contemporary

Tuesday: Street Dance

Wednesday: Musical Theatre

Thursday: Tap

Friday: Ballet

the little un’s are in from 4pm - 5pm

preteens 5pm -6pm

teens / young adults 6pm - 7pm

and finally the adults at 8pm

it sounds like hard work

but dance is all Jimin knows

he’s more than used to is

his stamina is so good

and once his business as a teacher gets up and running

he can afford to put on shows 

to showcase all the hard work his students have done

every year, some time in spring

the nearest theatre in town

it’s not as successful as, say, the pantomimes at xmas

but there are plenty of family and friends of the students interested

parents come to watch their kids

adults come to watch their friends

and so on

He has so much faith in everyone

and is proud of every little achievement 

at kid’s tap class he’ll be like “wow Sally! that’s amazing! you did a pick up!”

or “keep it going Amanda, you can do it!” at adult ballet

but it’s not just dance achievements he’s interested about

the things you do in your life matter too

sometimes he can be like a therapist

pulls you aside after class if he doesn’t think you were quite as on it as usual today

“are you okay today? you seemed distracted”

yes by your beautiful presence

just kidding

kinda

and you can just tell him

he’s always there to listen if you need to talk about something that you don’t want to tell friends or family

he’s there for anything really

like maybe a teen is struggling with exams 

and his encouragement really contributes to them pulling through

“you passed maths! I’m so proud! I knew you could do it!”

and there’s always the big squeezy hug that follows

he loves everyone

everyone loves him

no one can say a bad word about him

like seriously, no one can

V

Vintage store owner

Tae always wanted to own a shop

ever since he was a kid

he didn’t quite know what it was that appealed to him

but just the idea of running a store that’s your own

that’s the dream he worked towards

ever since school

weekend jobs

errands for neighbours

he saved every penny

and invested it on the cute little building 

on the block before the high street

Not like a charity shop

well some of the stock is second hand

but that’s because it’s real vintage

actually not just vintage, further back than that

like some of his stock can be referred to as ‘antique’

anything that has history

everything in his little shop has a story

the decorative chandelier that belonged to a middle class family in the early 1900′s

a vase made in Japan that someone brought back from touring the country years ago

velvet upholstery that could have been part of a noble household in Europe

glassware from the 70′s with intricate design

just cool stuff

you could spend hours in his shop

knows a lot about antiques, collectables, etc

blink and you’ll miss if you want something there

if you see it and you love it the first time you go in

you better buy it

because it’ll be gone even by this evening

his knowledge makes him a brilliant sales person

because the way he delivers the information about an object

just makes you want to buy it

so as you can imagine, sales are always good

everyone within a couple miles radius probably has something in their home bought from Tae’s store

Jungkook

Firefighter

because phwoar

lmao sorry

wait, no I’m not

can’t you just imagine it though

the uniform

the muscles

okay sorry not sorry

a true hero 

like sure, all of his colleagues are too, of course

but he goes that little bit extra

takes more risks

he doesn’t let much scare him

passionate about what he does

can mean he gets a bit extra in other aspects of his life

because he knows the dangers of literally anything

like you leave the hairdryer plugged in a few minutes after using it and he’s like

“NOOO!”

*dramatically, almost full takes a leaping dive to get there, unplugs it*

adrenaline rushes

he lives for those

a very can do attitude

feels amazing after rescuing anyone from anything

it could be a cat in a tree, evacuating people in a flood, or a person from a house fire

if he has helped them, it’s all rewarding

just good at everything

the job of course prepared him for lots 

but he’s just like REALLY good at everything

first aid pro

ultimate calming skills

navigation and driving - smooth

excellent judgement

even the science behind it all, he knows more than enough

all that jazz

he often gives lessons to younger people

because it’s important that incidents can be prevented

he’s very popular when he makes appearances in schools

because all the girls fancy him

obvs

some guys too hahaha

and I don’t just mean the ones that are quite sure they might be gay

anyways

pretty close to being a real life super hero

like he has to work at unsociable hours

but everyone in the area knows him

there’s hardly a street he walks down without someone saying hello

and even when they’re experiencing some of the worst possible situations

he just brings smiles to people’s faces 

#bts #bts as things #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fiction #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #rm #bts rm #namjoon #kim namjoon #jin #bts jikook #seokjin #kim seokjin #suga #bts suga #yoongi #min yoongi #jhope #bts jhope #hoseok #jung hoseok #jimin #bts jimin #park jimin #v #bts v

[squirrel-moose-winchester]

Another One

Title: Another One

Characters: Dean x Reader, Johnny (OMC), and Sam

Word Count: 1067

Summary: Once upon a time there was a Prince, a Princess, and a brave Knight. But the Prince turned into a monster, and so the Knight put on his armor in his quest to protect the princess.

Warnings: None

A/N: This was written for my dear friend’s ( @amanda-teaches​ ) CLUE Supernatural Writing Challenge. My prompts were: Castle, Blowgun, and Werewolf. And let me tell you, this was definitely a challenge! How is one supposed to challenge a werewolf with a blowgun?! LOL. Anyways, I found a way to make it work, and this is the result! Hope you enjoy it!! Xx

In the expanse of a well placed forest, stood a castle you’ve never seen before. It was unique in it’s own way, the architect ahead of his time! A visionary! And not to mention the colors! The colors were amazing – Immaculate even! You were in awe. You were sure there was nothing like it, and nothing that will ever be like it… ever. It would forever be a one of a kind.

Suddenly, you hear screaming paired with deep growling. Something, or someone, was heading your way. As you whipped around, your eyes widened. The young Knight appeared into the clearing, and not long after, you saw that he brought along company. A monster running behind him. A Werewolf with sharp teeth and hunger in his eyes.

They were approaching quickly, heading in your direction. “Princess!” The incredibly cute Knight shouted as he came running towards you, his green eyes bright, filled with fear and excitement at the same time. He was wearing armor over his chest and back, and had a shield on one arm while his other held his weapon of choice – a blowgun.

Behind him was a beast in the shape of a man that almost shared the same face, but definitely shared the same emerald eyes. And although he was a monster, his mossy orbs held amusement and adoration, despite having his teeth on display as he growled like a hungry beast.

“My brave Knight!” You screamed, opening up your arms as the young Knight came stumbling into them, giving you a tight squeeze before releasing you and turning around in order to defend you.

“Don’t worry, Princess Mommy, I will protect you for Werewolf Daddy!” Your three-year old told you with seriousness. Holding up his shield made out of cardboard. You had to hold back your laugh. He looked absolutely adorable in his makeshift armor, cardboard head to toe.

He pulled out the torn paper napkin from his pocket and bit a piece off, chewing it in his mouth before bringing the straw up to his lips. He took a deep breath and blew into the straw, which acted as his weapon of choice: a blowgun.

It hit Dean on the chin, the saliva shaped ball stuck to his chin as he crumbled to the floor, howling as if he was in pain and defeat. “My brave Knight! You did it!” you praised, hugging him into your arms and kissing his cheeks one peck after the other nonstop, which made him laugh.

“Princess Mommy, he’s not dead. You need to cure him,” Johnny, your three-year old, told you.

“Cure him? How am I supposed to cure him?” You asked, genuinely confused. Before you started this game, Johnny gave you and Dean the basic information of how to play. You were the Princess, he was the Knight (the hero), and Dean was supposed to be the Prince who was actually a Werewolf that wanted to eat the Princess’s heart.

“You need to give him a true love’s kiss!” He told you as if it was common sense.

“Oh, I do?” You smirked, looking over to your husband, and the father of your beloved son. The man was laying on the floor with a small smirk playing on his lips. That sly guy. He must have planned this while the two of them ran around the bunker.

“C’mon, Princess Mommy, you need to go and cure him. The true love’s kiss will turn him back to the Prince, and then you can get married and have another baby!” Johnny chirped, hope glittering in his eyes.

It was that moment, that things started to come together. “Another baby, huh? So if I kiss him and cure him, then we can have another baby?” You questioned your only son.

“Yup! I want a sister!” He blurted, making Dean laugh in his spot on the floor.

You walked over to Dean, getting on your knees before leaning over and kissing him on the lips, making sure to linger a little longer. When you pulled away, keeping your face in close proximity, you smiled, watching his beautiful eyes flutter open.

“Hey there, Prince,” you smiled. “Okay, let’s try for baby number two.”

His eyes widened at your words. Dean had mentioned it to you before, hinted at you more times than you can count, and with him and Sam out of the hunting life, a family was attainable.

“Seriously?” He breathed, unable to believe that you had just agreed.

“Yeah,” you giggled, wishing you had a camera on you so that you could capture the look on his face.

Johnny appeared beside you, squatting down to your level. “Are we having a baby?” He whispered, looking at both of his parents, optimism in his voice and expression.

“We’re gonna try,” you smiled at your son.

“Yay!” he jumped suddenly, running around in a circle like a lunatic.

“Dean… just so you know, he pulled more from your side,” you teased.

“Shut up,” he laughed, chest rumbling under your delicate hands.

“I’m gonna go tell uncle Sammy!” Johnny shouted before running out of the room and into the halls, his voice echoing. “Uncle Sammy!” You heard him shouting in the distance. “We’re going to have another baby!”

You and Dean chuckled at your crazy son, when heavy footsteps could be heard rapidly approaching. “Dean, Y/N! Are you guys… Y/N, are you… are you pregnant?!” Sam huffed, excitement written all over him.

You and Dean laughed again. “No. But we’re gonna try for another one,” Dean assured.

“That’s great news!” Sam chirped. “I’m gonna get out all the baby stuff so we can get started on building and decorating!”

“Whoa, whoa, there cowboy. Hold your horses,” Dean stopped his younger brother in his haste, while sitting up. “Why don’t we wait until Y/N is actually pregnant before we bring out all that stuff?”

A blush spread across Sam’s face. “Uh, yeah. You’re right,” he chuckled, a little embarrassed.

Sam was going to open his mouth again to speak when a tiny spit ball hit him on his temple. “I gotcha!” Johnny screamed, his pretend blowgun in his hand.

The room quickly filled with screams when Sam went running after your offspring. “So, you’re telling me, you want another one of those?” You asked Dean, referring to your bundle of joy.

“Hell yes,” Dean grinned, pulling you down for another kiss.

-- 

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Say Something Nice Here!

#CLUE SPN Writing Challenge #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #writing challenge #dean winchester #reader insert #dean oneshot #dean winchester one shot #dean fanfic #dean winchester fanfic #dean fan fiction #dean winchester fan fiction #spn #supernatural #spn dean #supernatural dean #spn dean winchester #supernatural dean winchester #another one #squirrel-moose-winchester

[imnotdoneyet-forreal]

Deals with the Devil- 12

Author: Amanda Preston

Summary: A need to fill a void and an encounter to start something new, Elijah and Katya never knew that a simple one night stand would wind up into a love affair filled with family drama and side deals gone wrong.

Deals with the Devil Masterlist  

        Josh Rosza nervously tapped against the leather portfolio on his lap. It held his school transcript, a copy of his resume, and a few samples of his work. Davina had come by twice now to offer him something to drink and a few encouraging words but neither the cool water nor the encouragement helped calm the anxiety he held for the interview.

        He adjusted his tie once more and glanced at his watch when he heard the clicking of heels once more. 

        “Davina, I’m…” 

        Josh stops as he notices the woman in front of him was not Davina but someone else entirely.

        “Joshua?” 

        “That’s me,” he answers casually, quickly regretting the choice of words. “I mean, yes that’s…uh me.” 

        Her smile softens at his response and she nods. 

        “Hi, it’s nice to finally meet you,” she greets. “I’m Katya Fontaine. Follow me to the conference room.” 

        Josh is quick on his feet and follows a few steps behind her. Katya deliberately slowed her pace so she could walk beside him. 

        “You’re early,” she comments. “Which I like in a potential employee.” 

        “Thanks, I tried.” 

        “Is it ok to call you, Joshua?” she asks him. “Or would you prefer something more professional like Mr. Rosza?” 

        “Actually Josh is fine,” he answers. 

        “Ok, well I looked through the resume you sent me earlier,” Katya comments. “A lot of good stuff there. I’m impressed.” 

        “Thank you.” 

        The nerves he held before easing at the casual conversation. His hand moved to adjust his tie again but he stops himself from doing so as they reach the conference room. 

        “Ok, Josh,” she states as she offers him to take the opposite seat from her. “Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself? Something your resume didn’t cover.” 

        Josh knew that this was a typical interview question but he couldn’t help but still feel stressed in answering it. He opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted as another person steps into the room. 

        “Sorry, I’m late…” 

        “Marcel,” Katya states out of surprise. “What are you doing here?” 

        He shrugs casually as he takes the seat next to her. 

        “Thought I’ll sit in on Davina’s mystery man,” he answers, adjusting his suit and staring at the nervous man in front of him. 

        Katya should have known Marcel’s overprotectiveness over Davina would drive him here. She wanted to kick him out of the private interview but knew better than to do that in front of Josh. 

        Realizing that he was staying, Joshua went ahead and slid his print copy of his resume towards the man. He reads over it briefly and hums pensively. 

        “We’re talking about this later,” Katya mutters, not falling for his act. She then turns her smile towards Josh trying to make up for the intrusion. “Where were we?” 

        “Oh about me,” Josh nervously answers. “I guess… I uh… I moved to New Orleans for school a couple of years ago. I came with a friend but she left for reasons unknown and so I was left on my own. I got through school fairly well and then I uh… well, I’m going to be honest and say that I was asked to leave after what they label an incident.” 

        “And what would you prefer to call it?” Katya asks. 

        “A statement,” Josh answers. “The school was refusing to change so I forced them to see their mistake. I hacked into their system and changed a student’s gender label into the one they identified as. The school was not upset about the change, but the way I went to implement it. Hence, my departure.” 

        There was a silence that followed his explanation as Katya and Marcel shared a look. Josh swallowed nervously wondering if he had said too much of the incident. He wanted to be honest but it may have cost him a great opportunity. 

        “You’re honest,” Marcel responds. “I like that.” 

        “Thank you, Josh,” Katya follows up. “I know how hard it is to speak of something like this and I appreciate the honesty. It’s none of our business what you did in the past. What I’m concerned about is what you’re willing to do in the future.” 

        “I want to do what I love,” Josh answers. 

        “Which is?” 

        “This,” he states, pulling out the designs in his portfolio. “I’ve worked on websites before. I’ve designed, I’ve coded, I’ve formatted… whatever you need, I can do it.” 

        “And your degree?” Katya asks. 

        “I uh… I don’t know if I have the option of finishing that anymore.” 

        “I’m sure Marcel and I can figure something out about that,” Katya answers as she shared a look with Marcel once more. “It’s the least he could do for barging in today.” 

        Marcel simply chuckles and shrugs. 

        “I can look into it.” 

        Josh was confused as to what was going on. He expected this to be an interview not some kind of free aid. 

        “I’m sorry,” Josh interrupts. “Not that I wouldn’t mind going back to school but why would you go through all the effort of getting me back in?” 

        Katya couldn’t help but smile at him. 

        “I want you to achieve your future, Josh,” she answers. “You’ve got what it takes and then some. That passion of yours will take you far so how about it?” 

        Josh was still in the dark. 

        “How about what?” 

        Katya’s smile only grew bigger at the question. 

        “Come work for me,” she responds. “We’ll take it slow, like a trial run. I want to see if you really are prepared for the work ahead. In the meantime, Marcel will talk to your school and see if they can wipe that incident off your record and get you back in.” 

        Josh was in shock with everything she was telling him. Katya knew it was a lot but the young man in front of her didn’t deserve the harsh punishment for helping out a friend. 

        “You deserve to accomplish your dreams, Josh.” 

        He didn’t know what to say. He in fact did, but he wanted to scream it from the top of his lungs which would be widely inappropriate. 

        “Yes,” he answers with a smile. “Yes, I would love to come and work for you, Ms. Fontaine. Thank you.” 

        Katya offers her hand for him to shake which he eagerly does. Marcel was quick to intercept the joyous occasion by a fake cough. 

        “Excuse me,” he states. “I had a few lingering questions of my own.” 

        Katya rolls her eyes at him. 

        “Need I remind you that the questions you want to ask are widely inappropriate and illegal to ask.” 

        Marcel just shrugs and Katya rolls her eyes. She turns to Josh and just chuckles. 

        “Josh, for the sake of this being over, would you mind clearing up a simple misunderstanding?” 

        Josh frowns confused but nods, “Yes, of course.” 

        “What is your relationship with Davina Claire?” Marcel asks. “There’s a policy here at MoonStone revolving romantic…” 

        “Oh, no, no,” Josh chuckles out. “Davina and I… we’re just friends. We will only be friends.” 

        “But she…” 

        “Marcel,” Katya calls out to him. “Potential lawsuit.” 

        Marcel didn’t need to be reminded but he couldn’t let the issue go. Katya lets out a sigh while Josh felt amused at the situation overall. 

        “Mr. Marcel, sir,” Josh speaks up. “Davina and I are simply friends. I could never… date her.” 

        Josh tries to imply but Marcel was not having it. 

        “What?” 

        Josh turns to Katya who seems ready to bury herself alive. 

        “I’m not ashamed to say it,” Josh assures Katya. “Can I just speak freely?” 

        “Sure, I guess…” 

        Marcel looked between them wondering what they could possibly be speaking about. 

        “I’m gay,” Josh states. “Not happy gay, but attracted to men gay.”

        Marcel leans back into his chair at the announcement. 

        “Did that clear things up?” Josh asks. 

        Katya couldn’t help but laugh at this point causing Josh to ease up too. He smiled in amusement while Marcel couldn’t help but join in on the fun. 

        “I am so sorry,” Marcel apologizes. “I can be so dense when it comes to D.” 

        “You’re dense in other things too,” Katya jokes. 

        Marcel rolls his eyes but shakes off the comment. 

        “Alright, now that that’s over,” Katya sighs out. “Marcel, would you be a dear and pull up a contract for Josh?” 

        Marcel nods and Katya turns to Josh and can’t help but smile at him. 

        “Come by tomorrow to get the paperwork done,” Katya instructs him. “I’ll explain the role you’ll be filling and we’ll find you a space to work in. I’ll have Davina give you the grand tour and explain the employment policy to you.”

        She stands up from her seat prompting the end of the interview. 

        “Welcome to MoonStone Publishing, Josh.”

#elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson fanfic #elijah mikaelson fic #elijah mikaelson x oc #elijah mikaelson x ofc #the originals au #the vampire diaries au #tvd au #to au #elijah mikaelson x you #fluff #angst #tvd #the originals #deals with the devil masterlist #deals with the devil part 12

[viscountessevie]

Someone Else’s [Valentine’s Day Fic 2019]

A/N: @thinkingabouttyrus My Dearest Cait, tis I, your Valentine! Hi there, I’m Sky. Nice to formally meet you as myself. I’m superrr excited for us to be proper friends now!! So you stated you like Tyrus and angsty fics with fluffy/happy ending and well I delivered! I really hope you like it and please do come scream me about the ending.

Honourable mention to my child Pippi aka @watching-the-chocolate I decided I’ve adopted now because they founded the Vait Fan Club. I appreciate you my child.  @swingsetboys This also dedicated to you Amanda, you are wonderful person for creating such a lovely exchange to spread love and make new friends! ENJOY!

****

Someone Else’s 

[Based off Baby by Clean Bandit Feat. Marina & Luis Fonsi]

Standing here in an empty room

I saw you there and my blood ran cold

Take me back to that long September

Don't know how I ever let you go

It was hours before the ceremony and Cyrus had to do one last check. He walked out to the garden where they had set up the chuppah. He stopped short as he walked down the aisle. Everyone knew how he gets when everything isn't in place. So did TJ. Who was standing by the altar, admiring the beauty of the chuppah. Cyrus couldn’t help but admire the moss green suit he donned - his first love always did have the best taste in clothes. The older man heard the light footsteps of his former lover. TJ turned around and gave Cyrus a lazy smile. He could definitely appreciate seeing Cyrus in a suit that was an upgrade to his Bar Mitzvah suit from years ago. Upon seeing those familiar green eyes, Cyrus' blood ran cold.

Instantly, his mind was snapped back to the cold September many years ago. The day he let TJ go. In that moment, looking at his old boyfriend, Cyrus couldn't remember why they broke up. He looked the same even though it had been years. His hair - gosh its been 10 years why hasn’t he changed his hair. His face, his nose and his lips. Most importantly, his eyes. They say you should fall in love with the eyes because they never change. Whoever said that was right. Cyrus fell for TJ’s eyes. It was hard not to fall for them, precious as emeralds with secrets hidden behind them. Those very eyes had once broken his heart too.

TJ turned away from the altar and walked toward the shorter man. Even after all these years, TJ towered over Cyrus. Cyrus on the other hand, was rooted to the ground.

I was young, didn't know 'bout love

You were wild, couldn't get enough

Gave my heart to another lover

Don't know how I ever let you go

Cyrus wasn't the only one doing some reminiscing. With every step TJ took, he remembered every pivotal moment in their relationship. From the first time they met and TJ taught Cyrus to stand up to himself, to the swings to the incident with Reed. Cyrus could still hear TJ’s rough voice from back then. He’s with me. In hindsight, it seemed like a self-fulfilling prophecy. Ah, the swings - their favourite spot. The very place Chocolate Chocolate Muffin and Not So Scary Basketball Guy started an unlikely friendship. Who knew they would come this far?

They were so so young. TJ was initially everything that Cyrus had been warned against. Yet with him, TJ was nothing short of wonderful. They grew together. They made each other happy. Yet they had to walk away from each other. Now here they were, Cyrus having given his heart to another.

Sweet, sweet Jonah. Cyrus' first love. It's funny how things worked out. Cyrus was very much in love with Jonah. TJ knew that. He also couldn't ignore the invisible rope pulling him towards his Underdog. He, too had forgotten why they had broken up. Next thing they both knew, TJ was standing in front of Cyrus. He smiled down at him.

"Hey Underdog." TJ gave him his usual wide grin. It took all of Cyrus' willpower not to pull TJ into his embrace. He stepped back, keeping a slight distance. "TJ." Cyrus settled. He didn't trust himself to say anything more. TJ took a step forward and tapped Cyrus' forearm.

"Aw come on, Cy. It's just me, relax."

Cyrus instantly felt himself breathing easily. Oh how he loved the effect TJ had on him. It was just so easy to be around TJ. Nowadays, he was the one being the calm for Jonah. As helpful as he was, Cyrus had to admit that it was tiring always being the fixer in their relationship.

Find me, in another place and time

If only, if only you were mine

But I'm already someone else's baby

TJ held out his hand. Cyrus looked at it blankly, What on Earth did he have planned now? TJ just gives him a look, “Don’t you trust me, Underdog?”

“Of course I do Teej but -” “But nothing, Cyrus, just take my hand.” As soon as Cyrus slipped his hand into TJ’s, the latter took Cyrus into his arms.  TJ started to spin the groom to be around the room. "Teej! You know I can't dance!" "Lalala I can't hear you over the memories of your Bar Mitzvah and our Prom, Underdog."

Cyrus couldn't contain the laughter bubbling inside of him. TJ spun him out and then pulled him back in as Cyrus gently bumped into his chest. He forgot how chiseled his old boyfriend was. Perks of dating an athlete.

"Oh shut up." He mumbled against the taller man's chest. As they continued to dance across the garden, they both closed their eyes. Pretending that the last few years never even happened. With each twirl and spin, everything disappeared. They pretended that TJ’s basketball career didn’t rip them apart. That the distance didn’t kill them. They pretended that they weren’t too young and unprepared to deal with a long term relationship.

Most of all, they pretended they were in another place and time, where everything had worked out in their favour. That this was their wedding instead. Not solely Cyrus’ but theirs.

Guess I had my last chance

And now this is our last dance

You fell through the cracks in my hands

Hard to say it's over

TJ knew he had to let Cyrus go at some point. He didn’t want to. Having Cyrus in his arms was a feeling that couldn’t be compared to anything else. It was like happiness encapsulated into a simple embrace. If he let go, he would just be admitting that he lost the best person to ever enter his life. That was a world TJ didn’t want to live in. A world where Cyrus Goodman was someone else’s. This really was their last chance, last dance to be together. TJ sure as hell wasn’t going to waste it.

Cyrus, on the other hand, didn’t know how to feel. A big part of him will always love TJ. He was his first boyfriend after all. But Jonah was the one who started it all. It made sense to get his happily ever after with Jonah. TJ was the one who fell through the cracks. Jonah was there to pick up the pieces. No matter how much fun they had dancing, Cyrus had to admit the hard truth to himself. It was over.

I'm already someone else's

All caught up in the way we were

I feel your hands getting close to mine

Don't say the words that I love to hear

The beat goes on and I close my eyes

They stopped under the chuppah. Cyrus’ arms were draped around TJ's neck. He played with the hair at the nape of his neck. They breathed hard. They had been so caught in up in each other, they didn't even notice someone had entered the garden.  

“Cyrus, I -” TJ started and Cyrus squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for their three favourite words. He wanted to hear them so badly. Even though he knew nothing would change even if he said it. The choice was made for him when someone cleared their throat.

“Ahem.”

Instantly the spell was broken. They jumped away from each other. TJ and Cyrus guiltily looked away from the other. Cyrus turned to find his groom to be standing there. TJ kept his eyes on the ground.

“Hi TJ!” Jonah said cherrily. The two of them snapped up at to look at Jonah, confused. Even after all these years, some things really do not change. They examined him before resuming a natural stance. “Hey man.” TJ nodded him. Cyrus simply burned beside the two of them. How did he always manage to get himself into situations like this?

“Congratulations!” TJ said awkwardly, not knowing what else to say. Cyrus wanted the Earth to swallow him whole. Jonah, on the other hand, grinned widely at TJ and thanked him. While Jonah had definitely grown over the years, sometimes he could be as oblivious as he was back in high school. He then turned to his fiancé.

“Cy, your mom is asking for you. We need to get ready for the ceremony.” Jonah slipped his hand into Cyrus’ and pulled him away from TJ. “See you later, TJ!” Jonah chirped as he tugged at Cyrus’ hand. Both TJ and Cyrus mustered a small wave.

I was young, didn't know 'bout love

You were wild, couldn't get enough

Let's leave things the way they were

You'll stay with me like a lullaby

As Cyrus walked through the doors of his home, TJ replayed their last fight in his head. They were so so young. He was wild - maybe that was a part of his appeal to Cyrus. He shook his head, remembering how he had left things. When he should have stayed with him, promising to fix whatever was wrong. The fight played in his head like an old lullaby that he couldn’t quite get out of his head.

“You are never around, TJ!” “It's called having a successful career, Cyrus.”

Cyrus balled up his fists. This was so unlike them. The one time Cyrus wanted to be angry and TJ was being the calm, nonchalant. He always did during their fights - he always made Cyrus feel like the unreasonable one..

He just stood there, shaking with his fists clenched by his side. TJ realised he was being a dick and walked over to his boyfriend.

“Cy, I didn't mean -” He put an arm around Cyrus when he pushed him off.

“Don't touch me. I know exactly what you meant.” Cyrus was on the verge on tears. He knew he didn't have the most stable of careers. He kept jumping from one interest to the next. TJ knew how sensitive he was about this. Yet he used it as his weapon against Cyrus in this fight.

It seemed like all they did was fight lately. When they weren't fighting, it was because TJ was across the country. Sometimes Cyrus would fly over to be with him but at the end of the day, someone had to hold down the fort.

TJ backed off and sat on the couch. “Cyrus, I really am sorry.” “I know you are. You always are.” “What does that mean?” TJ's voice gained an edge to it.

“... I want to break up.”

TJ instantly shot up from his seat. His heart broke watching Cyrus cry. How could he be so cruel to do this to his love? He ran to Cyrus’ side, gripping his arm tightly. Almost desperately.

“Cyrus, don't do this. Please...I love you.”

“We can't keep doing this, TJ! Constantly fighting in circles. It's the same fight every time. And neither of us is willing to change or compromise. What's the point?” Cyrus burst out. He retreated to their room.

A few days later, TJ had to travel for another game. He had taken all of his things with him. And he never came back.

***

Guess I had my last chance

And now this is our last dance

You fell through the cracks in my hands

Tell myself be stronger

A sliver of cold air passed through the both of them as they were separated. TJ was almost tempted to follow the longing look Cyrus had given him as he was brought back to the house. That was their last chance and well, last dance too. 

TJ lamented ever letting Cyrus slip through his fingers. He sighed to himself, walking away from the chuppah. He told himself to be stronger. They were better off without each other. As long as Cyrus was happy…  TJ couldn’t care less what happened to himself.

My heart's like a rubber band

And it's such a shame

You'll always be the one who got away

We both know that deep down you feel the same

Cyrus felt dizzy the moment he walked into his home. He knew he loved Jonah and definitely wanted to marry him. However, there was a however. Or in this case, a What If? and it came in the form of TJ. What was that Katy Perry song again? Ah yes, The One That Got Away. Never did Cyrus ever think he would compare his love life to a Katy Perry song. If the look TJ had given him when they parted ways was any clue, Cyrus knew he felt the same. Of course he did. What they had - however many years ago - it was real and genuine and full of love. No one could deny that.

He knew he couldn’t have his cake and eat it too. Yet his elastic heart was making it rather difficult to concentrate on what is to be the happiest day of his life. Suddenly it was starting to feel like the most confusing time of his life. He couldn’t decide if this or coming to terms with his sexuality was more confusing.

As his mom briefed Jonah and him on what was to happen next, Cyrus found himself looking out the window where the chuppah stood. He didn’t know if he was disappointed because he looked or because TJ was no longer there.

Hard to say it's over

But I'm already someone else's (C'mon)

I’m with Jonah, I’m with Jonah, I’m with Jonah. He told himself mentally. He was trying to convince himself that he was happy. He was happy. If he lied to himself long enough, maybe one day he could be happy. He barely paying attention to anything his mom was saying. He already knew this. Jonah was the one who needed the briefing.

Finally, everything was in place and the grooms were set to go. It all blurred together for Cyrus. All the relatives and the guests were reduced to a myriad of colours. Not even seeing Buffy and Andi could ground him. It just felt like he was going through the motions and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He gave into it, letting everyone else pull him along. Next thing he knew, he was standing at the altar. Jonah beamed opposite him. His groom took Cyrus’ hand in his. Cyrus looked down at it absentmindedly before looking out to the crowd. A pit formed at the bottom of his stomach. His heart fell into it. TJ wasn't there.

The rabbi started to speak and the ceremony began. Cyrus tuned him out as his mind wandered.

Wish I met you at another place and time

If only, if only you were mine

This love story ends for you and I

'Cause I'm already someone else's

His mind made up an imaginary TJ standing before him. This could have been them. Cyrus closed his eyes and took a moment to himself. He saw what could have been.

“Cyrus, don't do this. Please...I love you.”

“We can't keep doing this, TJ! Constantly fighting in circles. It's the same fight every time. And neither of us is willing to change or compromise. What's the point?” Cyrus burst out.

He retreated to their room. TJ rushed into the room right behind him. He wrapped his arms around the shorter man.

“The point is, we love each other and we can work through this.” He leaned down to whisper in his ear. TJ rubbed his calloused hands against Cyrus’ forearms. Cyrus leaned into his touch. Relishing it. He loved that even TJ said it, he didn't need to. He knew TJ loved him. Cyrus turned himself around to face his boyfriend. He gave him a small smile.

“...I'd like to try.”

“I'd love that.” TJ took his hand in his and guided him to their bed.

Flashes of their life together went by. TJ winning all the championships and Cyrus cheering him from the box seats. Cyrus finally putting himself through film school. Getting his first feature film. TJ accompanying him to the premier.

“That's my husband's movie!” TJ announces to everyone they meet. Cyrus just blinks at him. They weren't even married yet. He goes along with it anyway.

Them building a life together. Moving out of the small apartment to a proper house. Proposing at the same time.

Now they were here. In place of Jonah, it was TJ. Cyrus has no doubts this time. They tie the knot. Mr. and Mr. Kippen-Goodman. Down the line, they visit a foster home. They adopt a beautiful baby girl. She grows up wonderfully. They see her through her stages of her own life. Soon enough, they are old. Old but happy. They've lived a good and long life -

“WAIT!”

Cyrus knew that voice and his eyes snapped open instantly. TJ.

#Andi Mack Valentine's Day Tag #Andi Mack #Tyrus #Tyrus angst #TJ Kippen #Cyrus Goodman #Josh Rush #Luke Mullen #Cait #I love you Cait #This one is for you #I hope you come and scream at me about the ending #Original Fic #Thinkingabouttyrus

[1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt]

Me: I’m just going to do a really quick, shitty AU Captain Spock (green wrap edition) and First Officer Kirk sketch. 

Also me: 

Captain Spock and First Officer Kirk head canons:

A young science officer Kirk was so frustratingly good at chess that he was known to intentionally lose an occasional chess game to his brother George just so that he would at the very least have someone -- anyone -- to play with him. (It was lonely for a nerd in Iowa.) 

Pubescent Captain Spock was a confirmed nightmare. There was a legitimate emo “I hate my dad” phase. In an act of defiance he once tested out a risque human gesture which involved making the hand into a fist and then raising the middle finger, resulting in the longest grounding of Spock’s childhood. Amanda was inconsolably amused. Sarek was not.

Cadet Kirk nearly fell out of his chair when Commander Spock walked into his chess club, sat down, and just silently started a game with him. He resisted the urge to geek out hard because he knew exactly too much about the commander: his innumerable accolades and accomplishments, what it meant to Starfleet to have him, the only Vulcan known to turn down a position at the Vulcan Science Academy -- the sheer intelligence, the strength of will, the raw talent it took for him to earn the reputation he had -- 

“Cadet Kirk. There is a notable tremor in your hand. Are you quite alright?” Jim made some strangled noise around the lump in his throat that sounded something like consent and nodded just in case his awkward attempt at communication had failed him.

Spock was walking away after personally asking Jim if he felt ready and capable of supporting him by filling both Science and First Officer positions on his newly appointed ship. It was a tall and ambitious order, but Spock made a point of informing Kirk that he felt confident in Jim’s abilities -- so much so that Kirk was his first choice without hesitation. Jim was so utterly grateful that the Vulcan had turned and walked away when he did, because Jim’s knees were weak. He was so shocked that for a moment his head swam, he felt tingles in his extremities -- Oh God don’t faint here! He stumbled sidelong against the wall and shimmied around the corner before letting himself slide down the wall, cradling his head in his hands with his knees drawn up under his chin. He was certain he was having a panic attack right now, his chest was so full of joy and other wild and flailing emotions that he thought his ribs might crack from the pressure of holding it in. He wanted to dance, scream, and cry his tired eyes out. The most promising and anticipated individual to be promoted to Captain in the fleet would command the Enterprise; people were clamoring to showcase what they had to offer in the hopes of being aboard the first and only ship with a Vulcan captain, who also happened to hold the current highest aptitude in the history of the fleet. People were giving their all just to get to set foot on that ship as a crew member. Oh God. Oh God. I’m going to be second in command. Oh God! He had never wanted anything else so badly in the entirety of his life. On shaky legs he worked his way back up to his feet, taking massive gulps of air. He fled to his dorm on legs he still did not quite trust and swore to himself he would not. Cry. Out of every single qualified candidate in Starfleet, Spock went out of his way to personally approach me -- to ask me to be his First Officer. ME!!! He threw himself into the room and slammed the door, collapsing onto his bed and no, he didn’t cry. What he did was more akin to silently sobbing.

My Original Captain Spock & First Officer Kirk art/meta More Captain Spock and First Officer Kirk art

#spirk #ocspirk #octrekmeta #octrekart #fan art #fanfic #star trek #tos #star trek au #captain spock #first officer kirk #kirk #spock

[alj4890]

And Then I Met You

What happens when the one you thought you were meant for turns out to be meant for someone else?

A\N Choices Fan Fiction with characters from The Royal Romance, Red Carpet Diaries, and Perfect Match

@lxaah11​ ​   @alleksa16​ ​   @penguininapinktuxedo​ ​   @blackcoffee85​ ​   @stopforamoment​ ​     @hopefulmoonobject​ ​     @krsnlove​ ​     @annekebbphotography​ ​        @hopelessromantic1352​ ​   . @sunflowergirl05​ ​   @desireepow-1986​ ​  @greywitchyshots​ ​   @lilyofchoices​  @moodyvalentinestories​ ​  @emceesynonymroll​ ​   @my-heart-beats-for-ya​ @aworldoffandoms​   @ab1901​     @lolablackwrites​     @flyawayboo​   @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​   . @trappedinfandoms​   @kate-mckenzie​

Masterlist

Part 25

Novosel, Cordonia, seven hours southeast of St Orella...

Thomas turned the lamp off and attempted to go to sleep. He tossed and turned a few times and ended up staring up at the ceiling.

The hotel suite he had been residing for a little over a week was comfortable. He couldn't find anything to complain about the room itself. The staff were friendly and competent.

The first week of filming had gone better than he could have hoped for. Jessica had taken the role of Elizabeth and added a layer of innocent sweetness that Lauren had never quite mastered. The on screen chemistry between Jessica, Ryan, and Chris practically sparked in every scene they shared.

Having the talent and the highly capable film crew made his job as director easier.

He should be able to sleep. 

He turned his head toward the empty spot Amanda would have taken if she were here with him. Thomas was amazed that he actually was sleeping on the side of the bed he usually took when with her. Marriage had changed him in ways that were surprising him with this separation.

His day had been spent with multiple calls and trying not to be caught smiling too often when she sent a text message. He had known beforehand how much he loved her. He just hadn't expected this deep of an effect she had on him.

He rubbed his hands over his face and reached for the phone. He had called her earlier that evening, intending that to be the last he talked to her for the day.

He hesistated and called her once more.

After two rings he heard her voice.

"I almost called you." Amanda admitted with a laugh. "Something about trying to fall asleep makes me miss you even more."

He felt his body relax hearing her voice. "I'm experiencing the very same problem. One more week to get through before you are able to join me."

Amanda pulled the covers up around her. Her smile deepened with the thought of seeing him again. "About that,"

"Amanda," his voice held a hint of warning. "You are still coming in a week, aren't you?"

"I am." She quickly replied. She debated on telling him she could come tomorrow for a few days more or to simply surprise him.

With the king and queen expressing a need to return to the palace to begin preparations for the coronation before traveling to Ramsford, many of the guests were returning to their estates for a short break or traveling on to visit others. The last of her guests that were still at St Orella were those closest to her.

"We'll leave in the morning and help Bertrand prepare for the ball." Maxwell explained with a grin over dinner. "I know you're going to join Thomas, just be sure to be at Ramsford the night of the ball."

She decided she couldn't keep it to herself. "I'll be able to come tomorrow."

Thomas sat up in bed. "You will?" He looked around, thinking of all he wanted to do before she arrived. "That's wonderful. I thought the court was remaining at St Orella until the next event."

Her cheeks hurt from smiling at how happy he sounded. "The king had to cut his visit short. Once he and Regina left, everyone else was free to do what they wanted."

"I don't think I've ever been more happy to have a schedule being changed." He smiled at her laughter. "When do you think you'll be here?"

"Hopefully by late afternoon." She checked the time. "I should probably let you go. We both have an early morning tomorrow."

After telling her how much he loved her and hearing her say the same, he relaxed in his bed. Knowing she was coming made him more excited about tomorrow's scenes. He couldn't wait to show her how her story was coming along.

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

Cormery Isle, Cordonia...

Lord Thurston Vancoeur strode down the halls his ancestors had proudly once walked. His typical disapproving expression had hardened. The sounds of tinkling laughter could be heard coming from the back courtyard.

His son, Neville, had invited Tariq and that actress he was with for a visit.

Thurston knew why his son persisted in allowing such a low creature into his home. Neville hoped he would give in to the absurd idea that Lauren Benefield could one day be the Countess of Cormery Isle.

Thurston knew his precious wife, the Marquis of Niort's only daughter, would roll over in her grave if their only son tied his life to someone so beneath him.

He couldn't allow it to happen.

As he directed his steps toward the jovial group, his younger daughter intercepted his path.

"Good afternoon Father." Blair greeted warmly. Her smile turned to a sneer as she glanced at the courtyard doors open. "I know as the lady of our house that I should be out there playing the hostess." Her hands firmed into fists. "But I refuse to associate with that woman."

Thurston took her hand between his and gently patted it. "I understand, my dear. A lady should never have to demean herself to such a task."

Blair lifted her chin. "I knew you would understand. Neville was demanding that I retrieve Arabella and visit with Lord Tariq and his harlot." Her eyes flashed with anger. "As if I would expose our little sister to such a person!"

Thurston felt his own temper simmer past boiling. "Quite right. You and Arabella do not have to join them for anything other than dinner."

Blair pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you." Her bottom lip quivered as she glanced back at the viscount who she secretly hoped would choose her to marry. With her father deciding she was too young at nineteen to be in the running as a suitor for Liam, she had been able to keep her dream of marrying Tariq. But now..."If you will excuse me, I will speak to the cook about tonight's menu."

"Of course." Thurston watched with pride as his daughter left with her head held high. Both his daughters were the image of his late wife and just as mannerly as she had been.

His son had once been a source of pride. Thurston could only come to the conclusion that this fascination he had developed for an actress had to be some form of temporary madness. An illness.

And he was determined to cure his son of such.

"Father." Neville greeted with a smile. "I was just sharing with Ms. Benefield about our extensive wine cellar. She expressed an interest in seeing it. Perhaps you would be open to giving her a tour."

Thurston poured himself a cup of tea and sat down at the head of the table. "A proper lady wouldn't be interested in such." He leveled a steely glare on the young woman. "Unless she suffers with the effects of drunkenness."

Lauren narrowed her eyes. She managed to keep her voice sweet while dealing with the man that stood in her way in possibly gaining a higher titled husband. "In America, proper ladies tour such to admire one's cultured knowledge."

Thurston hmphed. "There doesn't exist such a woman in America."

"Father," Neville tried to laugh off the insults as a joke. "You shouldn't tease Ms. Benefield so. Whatever will she think of Cormery Isle's hospitality?"

"I don't care what she thinks." Thurston forcibly set his teacup down and stood up. "When have Vancoeur's ever worried what those of lesser standing thought?" He stormed back into the house.

Neville chased after him.

Lauren hit Tariq's arm. He jumped and stared at her in question.

"Why didn't you tell that old man off?" She screeched. "He insults me every time he sees me!"

"Lord Thurston has been a second father to me since I was a child." Tariq explained. "I'm not going to tell him how to act in his own home."

Lauren fought against screaming at him. She needed to string him along until Neville made her a definite offer of marriage. She refused to leave Cordonia without a noble title.

Seeing how well Thomas had done for himself by marrying a rich duchess and how well his new film was going, she could not return to Hollywood as the one who not only walked away from what was sure to be the most critically acclaimed film of the year but also to have lost out on two noblemen.

She had already irritated Viktor by not immediately returning to Hollywood. He would find a way to punish her for deciding to remain for another man. He probably would keep the best parts from going to her until he believed she had learned her lesson. She couldn't lose Tariq now. He was her only chance if everything else fell apart.

"I'm sorry darling." She cooed, kissing his cheek. "I didn't sleep well last night and I am taking it out on you." She fluttered her eyelashes. "Can you ever forgive me?"

"I always do." He mumbled. Tariq couldn't help but think of how often he was having to either beg for forgiveness or accept her apology.

"I think I will retire to my chambers for a nap." Lauren said in a practiced cultured tone. She squeezed his hand and left him alone.

Tariq let out a deep sigh. He reached for the teapot and let it clatter back on the sterling silver tray when Blair appeared.

"Mind if I join you?" She asked with a shy smile.

He stood up and pulled a chair out for her. His smile appeared when she fixed him a fresh cup and offered him some of the tiny cakes she knew he loved.

"It's wonderful to have you back with us." Blair told him. "I've missed seeing you each evening. No man dresses as well as you."

He puffed up a bit at her compliment. "I've missed being here with you as well. No place holds such a special place in my heart like Cormery Isle."

She reached for his hand. "You've always belonged with us."

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

"Father!" Neville said harshly once the study door was closed. "How dare you speak to Lauren like that?"

"Watch your tone!" Thurston snapped. "You forget who you are addressing."

Neville bowed his head in repentance. "Forgive me." He cleared his throat once again. He adored his father and had always had his approval on any endeavor he set out for. He didn't understand why this was not going as all the others had.

Thurston's anger eased somewhat at his son standing before him, properly chastised. "My boy, you will one day inherit my title and all that entails. You and your sisters are what Cormery Isle is. You must always represent it in the best possible fashion."

"That is what I am trying to do." Neville sat down when his father motioned toward the leather chairs by the fireplace. He looked up at his sire. "Lauren has learned how to conduct herself in our social circles."

"Conduct herself." Thurston snorted in derision. "Neville, she is an actress. Her entire life is nothing but a lie. Vancoeur's never shy from the truth no matter how much it might hurt another. That woman might have her hooks in Tariq, much to my dismay, but she will not get them in you."

Neville dropped his head in his hands. "Father, I want her."

Thurston didn't attempt to comfort him. He needed to make him understand. "Then have her."

Neville's head jerked up with hope. "Father! You mean--"

"I mean that if you want her so badly that you are willing to turn your back on your heritage, your family, and your duty; then by all means go to her. Marry her. Have a number of children." His eyes narrowed as his tone turned to one of ice. "But you will never be welcomed to Cormery Isle again. I will make certain you never inherit anything that was once rightfully yours."

Neville mouth hung open in disbelief. "Father, surely--"

"That woman will never hold the title your dear mother once had. I would never insult my beloved’s memory in such a manner." He roared. "And for my son to even contemplate such makes me wonder where I have failed as your father."

Neville stared at him as the weight of his words broke his will. "I--I didn't think of it in that light. I beg your forgiveness."

Thurston refused to be swayed until he heard his son say the words.

Neville stood up and looked his father in the eye. "I will never marry Lauren Benefield."

Thurston eased his stance and pulled his son into a brief hug. "Good lad. I knew you were a reasonable and honorable man." He clapped him on the back. "Once Liam chooses his queen, there will be a number of ladies that we will choose amongst to be the next Countess."

Neville nodded. "I've already been considering some that Liam doesn't spend anytime with."

Thurston beamed at him. "Well done, my boy. Let's make a list and see which lady could bring the most to Cormery Isle."

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

Novosel, Cordonia...

Amanda stepped out of her car and looked around at the number of cameras and film crew rushing about. Jessica and Ryan were in their period costumes, practicing lines while eating. Holly was speaking to a few of the cameramen and Addison was stitching a rip in one of Ryan's jackets.

She searched the crowd for Thomas as she walked closer.

"Hold it right there." A man blocked her path. "This is a closed set." His eyes widened when he realized who she was. “Sorry Mrs. Hunt! I didn’t recognize you at first.”

“That’s alright, Mr.--” she said.

“Just Toby.” He replied with a relieved smile.

“Nice to meet you Toby.” She searched around him. “Any chance you know where my husband is?”

“I saw him go into his trailer.” he told her. Toby pointed toward one set away from the others.

“Thank you so much for your help, Toby.” She smiled at him and hurried off.

She nodded toward some of the crew that called out greetings and then knocked on Thomas’s door. When she heard him call out to come in, she opened it and stepped inside.

“Have you by chance seen a handsome director roaming about?” Amanda asked.

Thomas turned around and swept her into his arms. “Hello.”

“Please sir,” she teased, sliding her arms up his chest. “I must find my husband. I don’t have time for flirtations.” 

He chuckled while kissing her. “I’ve missed you and, surprisingly, your sense of humor.”

“I knew you loved me.” She kissed him once more. “It’s so nice to be back in your arms.”

He softly groaned. “As much as I want to keep you to myself, I also want you to see how the film is going.” He gave her one more tender kiss then took her back outside. 

Thomas gave her a tour around the set, explaining the different scenes they had filmed amongst the rolling countryside. He paused near one of the viewing areas and showed her the dailies from the previous days. 

"Amanda!" Addison hopped up and ran over to hug her. "How did it go after we left? Lauren didn't try anything did she?"

"Not at all. She has been on her best behavior." Amanda explained. She smiled when Thomas pulled her back against his side. "How's filming going?"

"Great." Holly hugged her. "We're working on the scene where Arthur has to tell Elizabeth that he has to leave Cordonia."

"We're taking a break." Addison added. "Thomas wants to film it as the sun sets."

Amanda smiled up at him. "To represent the end of their romance."

"Exactly." He said with a soft smile.

He guided her back toward his trailer. "I just recalled that there are a few pieces of dialogue I want to have you look over."

Amanda stepped inside and let out a laugh when he pulled her into a heated kiss.

"I thought you needed me to look at something." She teased.

Thomas chuckled against her lips. "You're looking at what I need you to."

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

The next few days seemed to go by quickly, too quickly in the pair’s opinion. Thomas and Amanda worked in the evenings on the occasional rewrites while enjoying being near one another once more.

On their last evening together before he moved the filming to St Orella and she was to journey on to Ramsford, he ended the day's filming early and refused to look at the script anymore. He explained to her that he only wanted them to concentrate on each other. 

The couple decided to spend what time they had left together doing what they enjoyed most. They ordered room service and cuddled up in bed together, watching old movies.

"Another week." Thomas muttered, kissing her neck. "Then the week of the coronation."

"And then I can be with you the rest of the time." Amanda added while turning to meet his lips. "I can't wait until we have nothing to worry about except completing the movie."

"I think you and I should lock ourselves in one of our homes after the premiere for at least three months." He sank into her embrace when she kissed him. "Get away from everyone and everything."

Amanda nodded while unbuttoning his shirt. "Like Olivia's cabin but with no work looming over us and no problems left to resolve."

"And no drug induced kidnapping or inescapable wilderness." He teased while pulling her shirt off.

Her laughter was smothered by his thought stealing kiss. "I wish you could go to Ramsford with me."

"I do too." He murmered as he kissed down her neck. "The only reason I’m not is because I want to finish the ballroom scenes before I return to the palace with you."

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

Cormery Isle, Cordonia...

Lauren sneaked through the dark and softly knocked on Neville's door. A slight frown formed at the silence she heard when she pressed her ear to the wood.

"What are you doing?"

Lauren spun around while clutching her silk robe closed. "You startled me!"

Arabella narrowed her eyes at her. The teenager had a way of making others feel incredibly uncomfortable under her suspicious gaze. "Must I repeat myself? What are you doing at my brother's door?"

Lauren narrowed her own eyes. "Aren't you a little young to be up, wandering the halls?" She tried her best to fluster the girl by talking down to her.

Arabella rolled her eyes. "I'm fifteen, not an infant. Plus I don't wander the halls of my own home. I go specifically from one room to the next for a purpose." She held up a leatherbound book. "The library was tonight's reason."

Lauren glanced at Neville's door. "I am in need of something to drink and hoped your brother was awake and could assist me."

Arabella quirked an eyebrow. "Really? That's the excuse you're going to use?"

"Excuse me?" The actress snapped. "I don't really see where it is any business of yours if--"

"Oh but it is." Arabella replied calmly. "You're in my home. Bothering my brother late at night." She stepped forward and gripped Lauren's arm, yanking her away from Neville's room. "Allow me to not only help you find a drink but also put you where you belong." Her eyes cut to the one who had stolen Tariq from her beloved sister. "I suppose I can't stick you where you truly belong. It wouldn't be fair to our dogs."

Lauren bristled when the insult registered. She shook off the younger woman's hand and stormed back to her room. She slammed the door shut and locked her door.

She couldn't wait to let Lord Neville know that if he wanted her then he would have to do something about his horrid family.

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

St Orella, Cordonia...

Amanda finished packing her things as Thomas unpacked his in their bedroom. He paused to watch her as she searched through her ballgowns. Each one she pulled out, she decided against.

He quietly came up behind her and pressed his lips to the back of her neck.

She turned her head and kissed him. "I need to hurry." She murmered half heartedly when he pulled her toward their bed.

"I know." He whispered against her lips.

"You're horrible." She teased, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I need to already be on the road to Ramsford."

"Maxwell and Nadia will understand if you're late." His lips skimmed her ear. "Or don't show up at all."

She bit her lip. "I'll need an excuse."

He smiled against her neck. "You didn't feel well enough to make the long drive out there."

Amanda shivered when he bit down on her earlobe.

"Chill bumps and flushed skin." He murmered while his fingers lightly brushed her heated skin. "Flu symptoms if ever I saw any." He smiled a touch wickedly at her. "I would be a terrible husband to allow my wife to risk her health and those attending the ball by allowing her to leave the house, much less the bed."

She pressed her lips to his. "I guess you better make the call." Her teasing smile flashed. "You do have more theatrical experience than I do."

He took her phone and gently nudged her back on the bed. "My pleasure."

#thomas hunt x amanda #rcd thomas hunt #thomas hunt #and then i met you

[crispychrissy]

Define Justice - Chapter 5

Chapter Summary: Dean discusses his past with Agent Novak; the trio deal with the memories that started everything. Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader x Ruby, Dean Smith, Agent Novak, Agent Gabriel Word Count: 2483 Warnings: Angst, language, allusions to assault and violence, sexuality (no smut) Author’s Note: Sorry this chapter took so long to post, had a few fics I wanted to get out first. As always, thank you to @saxxxology for betaing and being my muse. Tags are still open, so please send me an ask if you would like to be tagged.

Series Masterlist — Complete Masterlist

After a long day of searching the motel room that the two women were in, the team came up with pretty much nothing useful; even the sketch of the two women the officer provided didn’t give more than a general description. Dean had been surprised at how clean the motel room was, and it seemed like the occupants had a lot of experience cleaning in a hurry. Any hairs that were in the shower drain were covered in bleach and were probably not going to be viable for DNA, but the local crime scene techs bagged it anyways. They left the motel room with no leads, and Dean could already feel himself getting frustrated. He was supposed to be spotting evidence the others couldn’t, and today he was doing a shit job of it.

“You alright back there, Smith?” Novak asked from the driver’s seat on their way back to the hotel. “You’re very quiet.”

“Yeah, fine,” Dean swept his palm over his cheek, “just annoyed that we got so close and they slipped through our fingers,” Dean said, running a hand down his face.

“We’re closer than we’ve ever been, it’s only a matter of time until we catch up to them. They can’t run forever. We’ve got their scent now,” Novak said, earning a chuckle from Gabriel. “What?”

“I just imagined you running around and aggressively sniffing everything,” Gabriel laughed.

Novak laughed and then eyed Dean in the rear view mirror. “Smith, you and I are going to the hotel bar and having a chat when we get back. Sound good?”

“Yes, sir,” Dean smiled. “Is Agent Gabriel going to be joining us?”

Gabriel groaned and shook his head. “After last night, I’m never drinking again. You two kiddos have fun.”

The rest of the ride passed in relative silence and once they arrived back at the hotel, Novak took Dean with him to the bar while Gabriel went up to his room. They sat down at a table in the restaurant part of the bar and began browsing the menu. Novak raised a hand and ordered two bottles of beer for them, much to Dean’s delight.

“So, Dean,” Novak began, “I was pretty impressed with your intuition at the crime scenes today.”

Dean smiled. “Thank you, sir. Crime scene analysis has been a passion of mine since I was really young. I apologize for not getting anything viable, though.”

“Call me Cas, Dean,” Novak said before taking a swig of his beer, “we’re having dinner, not in a meeting. First name basis is perfectly fine.”

“Cas?” Dean raised his eyebrows. “That’s an odd name. Is it short for something? I don’t remember seeing your first name on any internal documents.”

“It’s short for Castiel. My dad was a very religious man and kind of named me after the Angel of Thursday, the day I was born on.” Novak shrugged. “I shorten it to Cas so it doesn’t sound as… frilly. I request that the Bureau not put my full first name on anything if they can help it.”

“Tough break. You ever thought of changing it?” Dean asked right as the waitress approached the table.

“What can I get you boys?” She asked looking at Dean as she slid a pen out from behind her ear and pressed it to the notepad in her hand.

“I’ll get a bacon cheeseburger, medium rare, with grilled onions and a side of fries, thanks,” Dean said, handing his menu back.

“I’ll take the same, minus the grilled onions, please,” Novak said, also handing in his menu. “And no, I never wanted to change it. Changing your name is a pain in the ass, and I really don’t know what I would change it to.”

“Yeah, I get that. Whenever people hear my name is Agent Smith, they usually start quoting The Matrix,” Dean chuckled and took a long drink from his beer.

Novak smiled, then cleared his throat. “So, Dean. I wanted to ask you something. Feel free to decline if I’m crossing the line, okay?”

Dean raised an eyebrow and nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“The observations you made today at the crime scene… they were extremely advanced for someone of your paygrade. If I was any other person at the Bureau, I would have assumed you were a senior agent with hundreds of cases under his belt.” Novak pointed the beer bottle in his hand toward Dean. “Care to explain how you knew so much about crime scene analysis? And don’t tell me it was a hobby, because what I observed was way too advanced for hobby level.”

Dean sighed and took a sip of his beer. He knew it was only a matter of time before the senior agents began to ask questions, and Novak seemed to be genuine in his request for an explanation. Dean took a deep breath and leaned forward in his chair. “It was my father, honestly.”

“Your father? He was an agent?”

Dean shook his head. “Police officer. My life was pretty normal when I was growing up… until my mom died. You remember those rash of murders in Kansas like twenty years ago?”

Novak narrowed his eyes in thought. “I think so. Ten victims over six months, right? All still unsolved?”

Dean nodded. “That’s the one. My mom was, uh… she was victim number three.”

Novak frowned. “Oh, shit, Dean. I’m so sorry. I know what that man did to his victims… that’s horrible.”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded. “It tore my father apart. He became obsessed with the crime scene and her murder. He studied every detail, every photograph, and it eventually became his obsession. His obsession slowly became my burden, and I had no choice but to study with him. He nearly lost his job and without me taking over and helping, he would have.”

Novak offered a sympathetic smile. “So you researched criminology and crime scene analysis to help solve your mother’s case. That’s a huge weight to put on a kid, I can’t imagine how difficult your upbringing was.”

“It was hard, but it made me what I am today,” Dean shrugged, “even after my father died, I continued studying and went to college for criminology and behavioral science. Even though my mom’s case is still open, I never want to let what happened to my father happen to anyone else. The obsession ate at him until there was nothing left.”

“I’m sorry, kid. I’m sorry it happened like that… but I will say that you’re one hell of an investigator. You’ll go far at the bureau, I can tell.” Novak smiled as the waitress returned with their food.

“Two more brews, gentlemen?” She asked, setting down their food and throwing a wink at Dean.

“Please, sweetheart,” Dean said with a small smile.

The waitress nodded and left the table, adding an extra swing in her hips as she walked away.

Novak shook his head and finished off his beer. “Ahh, to be young again.”

Dean smiled and shook his head. “Oh come on, you’re barely older than I am.”

“Maybe so, but sometimes I feel like I’m a couple millennia old. It took me months to learn how to use a smartphone,” Novak laughed.

“Hey, better late than never,” Dean mumbled with a mouth full of food.

The waitress brought back two bottles of beer and left a folded up napkin on the table next to Dean. She winked again and sashayed away before Dean unfolded the napkin. He smirked and laughed, holding it up to Novak.

I get off at 9. Meet me in the lobby if you’re interested. -Amanda

Novak shook his head and laughed. “Hot damn. You going to take her up on the offer?”

“Maybe. I’ll just have to see where the evening leads me.” Dean laughed, tucking the napkin into his jacket pocket.

“Amen to that,” Novak raised his bottle in a toast. Dean smiled and raised his, clinking glasses before they both took a sip.

Sam was roused out of his sleep by soft mumbling and a warm body twitching against his side. They had found an old SUV a few blocks down from the motel and immediately began driving west to get as far away from the police as possible. After twelve hours of driving, however, they had to stop and catch some sleep, finding a twenty-dollar-a-night motel and booking the only room with one bed.

He blinked his eyes open and shifted to his right to check the time. He sighed when he saw it was just past four in the morning. He looked down at Ruby’s face, and began to shake her awake when she saw the furrowed scowl on her face as her mumbling began to get louder.

“Ruby, babe, wake up,” Sam whispered, planting a soft kiss on the top of Ruby’s head.

Ruby growled out a “no, stop,” which caused Y/N to open her eyes and snuggle closer to get a better view.

“Is she okay?” She asked.

“Another nightmare, I’m guessing,” Sam sighed. “Ruby, come on, sweetheart. Wake up.”

Y/N reached over and ran her fingers through Ruby’s hair and caressed her cheek. When the woman failed to wake up and instead whimpered in fear, she shifted and leaned across Sam, planting a soft kiss to Ruby’s lips. Ruby groaned into the kiss as she woke, and swiped her tongue over Y/N’s lower lip, begging for entry.

“Hey now, what am I, chopped liver?” Sam protested as both ladies smiled and leaned back from their kiss.

Ruby planted a soft kiss to Sam’s lips, then Y/N leaned up to do the same. Sam threaded his hand through Ruby’s hair, running his fingernails over her scalp. Any time Ruby had a nightmare, she would only calm down by having her head scratched, and Sam was more than happy to comply.

“Another nightmare?” Y/N sat up and crossed her legs.

“Yeah.” Ruby took a shaky breath and Sam tightened his arm around her. “He had me backed in the corner… he had a knife this time. The screaming… I couldn’t get away.”

“I know, sweetheart. But it’s okay. We took care of them. Both of them,” he soothed. “Do you want to go through it again? I know how it helps.”

Ruby nodded, leaning back to allow Sam to sit up and pull her into his lap. “We were all so close. When me and Y/N saw the bruises and broken bones compounding every day, we had to do something.”

Y/N nodded. “We were - are - the Three Musketeers. Between my abusive ex and Sam’s shitty foster parents, we leaned on each other. Killing your parents is what started this, Ruby. And we’ve only grown from there.”

Sam smiled and ran his fingers through Ruby’s hair again. “We broke into the house once they were passed out from the heroin. I killed your dad and Y/N killed your mom. We saved you.”

“You saved me from them, and you saved me from a life of following in their footsteps,” Ruby said, nuzzling into Sam’s chest. “I think we saved each other from horrible lives. We’re so much better together. I feel like the hole in my heart has been filled completely and I haven’t been happier. I love you both so much.”

“And we love you too, sweetie,” Y/N said, tucking a strand of dark hair behind Ruby’s ear.

Sam smiled a mischievous smile and began to relentlessly tickle Ruby’s sides, making her squirm and giggle in his lap. Y/N smiled and leaned over, joining Sam in his tickling. Ruby bucked in Sam’s lap, pressing at his hands.

“I give! I give!” She finally gasped. Sam smiled and gave Ruby a tight hug, kiss lips pressed under her jaw as he rocked her back and forth.

“Now that we’re all awake, what do you say we find a new case?” Y/N said as she slid out of bed and bounced over to the table.

“Sounds good. You think there’s anyone we can kill in this shitty town?” Ruby rolled her eyes. “New London, Ohio. What kind of lazy ass just takes the name of an existing place and just slaps the word ‘new’ in front of it?”

Sam smiled. “I don’t know. Maybe you could ask someone in New York. Or New Jersey. Or New Mexico. Or-”

“Alright, I get it. I get it,” Ruby shook her head and smiled, sliding off of Sam’s lap and standing up. “I’m gonna take a shower. You two don’t start anything without me, comprende?”

“Sí, señorita!” Y/N called after Ruby shut the door to the bathroom.

Sam stood up from the bed and walked over to where Y/N was sitting, still nude from her sleep. He took a seat across from her at the table and stared at her. Y/N raised an eyebrow and looked up at him from her laptop screen.

“Take a picture and jerk off to it later.” Y/N sassed.

Sam smiled and leaned forward, resting his chin on his knuckle. “I don’t need to jerk off, I get the real thing.”

Y/N laughed and went back to typing on the laptop. “So what’s on your mind then?”

“Two years without a nightmare and then all of a sudden she’s begging in her sleep and thrashing around?” He shifted his weight and straightened up to fold his arms. “Do you think there’s something up with her?”

Y/N shrugged. “I’m guessing it’s stress. We almost got pinched, Sam. That’s the closest we’ve come in a long time. I’ll find us a new case and we’ll move on. It’ll help her forget about the close call.”

“I guess. I’m just worried about her, you know? What she went through when she was growing up and what we do... I just don’t want her to self-destruct.” Sam said, running a hand down his face.

“Then why are you talking to me, dumbass?” Y/N said. “Go talk to her. You smell, anyways.”

Sam smiled and rolled his eyes. “You know, you can join us too. I’m not saying you stink, just that Ruby loves you just as much as I do.”

“I know that, Sam. I just think she needs someone to take control of what she’s feeling, and you know how to do that. You’ve always known how to do that. You were the first man I slept with after… after what he did to me. You made me feel safe again, and that’s what Ruby needs.”

Sam nodded and leaned down, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s lips. “I’ll take care of you before we head out in the morning, okay?” He waited for her to nip gently at his lower lip before turning and walking toward the bathroom, shedding clothes as he walked.

Forever Tags: @katymacsupernatural @queen-of-deans-booty @your-modern-shakespeare @wh1sp3r1ng-impala @wheresthekillswitch @holyfuckloueh @just-another-busy-fangirl @growningupgeek @ididntasktogetmadedidi @trashimaginezblog @jensen-gal @spnbaby-67 @feelmyroarrrr @donnaintx @potterhead1265 @mizzezm @there-must-be-a-lock

Define Justice Tags: @winchesterprincessbride @manawhaat @httpslouisoh @mereka18 @thelittleredwhocould @fallingoutthetardis @introverted-book-lion @unicorndreamer1622 @mishamigosassbuttedmoose @deans--chevy--baby @dean-winchesters-babydoll @dizzy-sunshine @ryantherandomhero @frickfracklesackles

#define justice #reader insert #sam x reader x ruby #serial killer AU #chapter 5 #supernatural AU #spnfanfic #dean smith #fbi agent #novak #gabriel #angst #sexuality