#that were taken are all paid crisis actors working on behalf of the state of Israel and faking thwor own

[gingerswagfreckles]

After 16 months I just had a conversation with a gentile who expressed support/sympathy for Hamas just immediately changed their mind after being informed that their stated goal is the murder/ethnic cleansing of Jews from the Levant and that they committed the Oct 7th terrorist attacks. Miracles do happen.

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Chapter Summary -  Tom finally speaks with Danielle properly for the first time in months, but it does not end how he expected when she verbally castrates him.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

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

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

Mac Tíre is pronounced Mac tier, it is the Irish for wolf and means son of the earth.

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

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog  @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions

“Mum.” He called after her, but the older woman did not respond. It was then he noticed Mac Tíre, Elle’s German Sheppard cross dog looking at him from across the garden. “Hey, Mac.” He smiled. It was actually him who had got her the dog, it was a scraggly stray pup that had shown up at a set he was working on that was in bad shape, and since Elle’s dad had been a veterinarian, he thought she could help it. Mac was a bit weedy looking still, not as well built as other German Sheppard’s, but he had a good sheen to his coat and was as fit as a fiddle, joining Elle when she went jogging or cycling in the woods nearby.

Mac eyed him for a moment; usually the dog would make straight for him when he acknowledged the canine, seemingly remembering who had helped save him, but as though knowing what the women had been talking about, Mac rose to his feet and trotted to the house, scratching once at the door before it was opened to let him in.

“Even the bloody dog hates me,” Tom mumbled walking to the door, knowing it was better to deal with everything now. “Mum.” He looked into Elle’s kitchen. He could hear the shower on upstairs. “Mum, I’m sorry.” Diana gave an ‘hmm’ in response. “I’m jetlagged and hungry, and to be honest, jealous, that you have spent the day here and not with me.”

“And I am hurt that you thought going to the beach and making a holy show of yourself rather than spending time with your family was a better use of your time Thomas. I am tired of having people ask me are you having some sort of early midlife crisis to say you are going to teenager concerts looking like a chaperone rather than a partner of someone there, and I am embarrassed at how you have treated someone this family holds dear in the manner you have of late.”

“Wait, what, who?”

“Who do you think?”

“Mum, I don’t…”

“What is the real reason you did not have Danielle collect you today, as she has done for four and a half years, and why have you not spoken to her once since Christmas, not once. What did she do to deserve that?”

“Wait, I have…”

“When? Today perhaps.” Tom did not respond, he had not realised it was true. He used tag funny pictures to Elle on his private Facebook, or send her some training tips he got from some trainer if he thought they were beneficial to her, but of late, he had not even looked at her page, he had no idea what was going on in her life. “I really do not know what to say to you Thomas, is all of this worth it, to gain fame and perhaps notoriety, is it worth it when you cost yourself people who care about you as a person?”

“I have to take the next step, get as big as I can.”

“Well, when Hollywood bores of you, I hope those who care about you that are not family are still there my boy because there will be someone new, someone fresh; we all age, and there are always people ready to take our place. Elle cares for you; she is willing to put herself out selflessly for you. She brought food to your home so that you could come home from a shoot, or a long flight and have something ready that is good and filling, she got everything you wanted from London so you could rest tomorrow, and she did not care if you even knew about it being her that did it, after eight months of no contact, she still did it.” Diana’s anger seemed to have dissipated, but in its wake, was a sadness and cold truth that terrified Tom, eating at the insecurities he had that he had not voiced himself. Diana placed the containers of food she had organised for Elle on the counter and walked out of the house, leaving Tom to stew on her words.

When Elle came downstairs, she was tying her hair back so that she could be ready for work. She paused when she saw Tom in her kitchen looking at her, looking then to the containers and back to him.

“Mum sorted them.” He pointed to the food.

Elle gave a forced smile and nodded slightly before noticing the dog. “Mac Tíre, get your hairy ass outside now, you know you can’t stay in when I’m working.” She scolded. Mac did not move. She opened the back door. “Out.” Mac rose to his feet and eyed her for a moment, then Tom, then back at her. “It’s only Tom, come on, out you go.” Mac gave the actor one last apprehensive look and trotted out the door. “Diana will feed you at eight.” She stated, closing the door. There was a moment of her and Tom looking at one another after she locked it.

“You know he can’t understand you right?”

“He seems to get the hint, which is more than can be said for many humans.” She responded.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I have clearly offended you in some manner.” Elle cocked her brow and pursed her lips. “I am sorry I have not spoken to you in a long time or bothered to contact you and check on you, but in my defence, you weren’t exactly running to contact me either.”

Danielle started counting on fingers. “Your birthday, I sent you a ridiculous picture and a big not with it, Patrick’s day I sent a funny picture, April Fools, I sent a funny joke, St George’s Day I sent a mocking text, the day of the Presidential dinner, the MET Gala, the Emmy nomination, all top of my head examples, need I continue?”

“I didn’t get half of them.”

“I bet you didn’t, and by half, I bet you mean everything since the day before the MET, right?”

“You don’t get to say anything, you don’t even know her.”

“You’re right, I don’t, because when she was here, I was not worthy of introductions, was I?”

“You could have come over.”

“I could, but the glut of paps and the security got in the way, I was told I was not allowed, that it was private property, in fact, my favourite part was when they called the police, but thankfully it was Joanne and Mike that got called out, who know I actually live next door.”

“You never said…”

“But I did, but you clearly you didn’t get the message, I wonder why. Tell me, does she scan all your texts, or is it just me she blocked.”

“What, that ridiculous.”

Danielle took out her phone and brought up his number before pressing the call button.

“We’re sorry, but you are not able to be connected to this number, please hang up and try again.” The monotone recording played.

“So can I ask, is it just me out of your female friends that you have not heard from of late?”

“She hasn’t been alone with my…”

“Have you gone to the bathroom, the shower, the gym, even left your computer on?” She challenged, Tom bit his lips together. “I guess you know the answer to that too. Have a nice day Tom; I am off to actually do something other than open your eyes for you. Get some rest for yourself before you go back to the circus.”

“Circus?”

“GQ, Esquire, Time Magazine, Forbes, they are where you want to get a front page, they are prestigious, but you, you have been plastered on the front of the National Enquirer Tom, as the bit on the side to the arm candy, that’s hardly a prestigious publication.”

“You always mock tabloids and magazines, and here you are reading them.”

“They are in front of me, plastering every shelf when I enter Tesco’s and Sainsbury’s Tom, I don’t need to read them, I can see headline after headline, picture after mortifying picture; speaking of which, please tell me that Fourth of July t-shirt was you taking the piss out of yourself, or a dare, or a bet you lost, please tell me you did not do that willingly of sound mind.”

“You wouldn’t…”

“Jesus, it wasn’t. That is so embarrassing, I am actually so mortified on your behalf, before I was cringing, but that, that actually made my insides hurt, I didn’t know should I laugh or cry for you, and to be honest, thinking back, I still don’t.”

“It’s not your place…”

“But you made it my place, me and every last person you whored yourself on the cover of those publications to. Those weren’t pictures taken without consent Tom; they are proper staged photo’s; that is the notable thing here.”

“Whored?”

“Well, that may be a bit harsh, whores tend to realise they are getting fucked and get paid for their work, I hope she gives you a hefty allowance of her earnings.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He snarled viciously.

“Don’t you think it is weird, you used get spotted by fans wherever you went, but it was always fairly anonymous, here, LA, New York, everywhere you went; but now, everywhere you go, everywhere you are, there are paps, and a tonne of them.”

“That’s the business, you wouldn’t understand.”

“But they were not at your mothers before, they were not hounding your sisters, your niece, that one gets me the worst, she is five years old Tom, she is not famous, she does not want that, but then again, I doubt you or ‘fame hungry Barbie’ checked with that.”

“Sarah did not say anything.”

“Like she had a fucking choice, you didn’t warn her in advance, did you?” She challenged, her voice raised.

“You’re just fucking jealous, that’s all that’s wrong with you, jealous that for once, you were not the centre of my family’s life.” He bellowed back.

Danielle had a few different laughs, her snigger when she knew she shouldn’t, her snide one, for when she and Emma would bitch whatever co-star Emma had that was only on a production for reasons other than her acting ability, her one for when she wanted to laugh more, but she was embarrassed to do so in front of those she didn’t really know, and the one she had when she found something so hilarious, propriety be damned, she would erupt into laughter. Tom’s statement was met with the last one. Danielle erupted in laughter so strong; she went red in the face. “That…jealous…” She took a deep breath before standing straight again. “I do not envy you, Thomas, I pity you, so fucking much it actually is beyond words. I mean, what do you two even talk about, does she know anything about Yeats, Shakespeare, Wilde, hell even Tolkien? She will get her next album material or her next piece of boy meat, and you will be a pariah, to both decent women and good productions, and if you don’t believe me, look at her previous conquests, the guy from One Direction, where is he now, trying to get an album together apparently, Gyllenhaal, he practically has to freeze his ass off for a role and his depiction was seen as mediocre, and that guy from Twilight, is he even making movies now? And as for her bickering, let me just say this Tom, I’ve read that West and Kardashian are not supposed to be the greatest people alive, or Perry, or Bieber, or whoever else she is pissed off with this week to sell music, but no one who is nice has that many people arguing with them. She is accomplished, no one can take that from her, but you are going to be left in her wake, another ‘boyfriend of Taylor Swift’ and not your own man, and you will have that tattooed on your resume for as long as you act, are you really okay with that? Become the Tom I know, would not have been.”

“You mean the Tom you knew.” Tom glared at her, hating her for voicing what Benedict, Chris and Luke had clearly been hinting when they were introduced to Taylor.

Danielle let his words linger for a moment, kissing her lips and nodding. “You’re right.” She conceded. “I don’t know this shitbag in front of me, and to be honest, I don’t fucking want to.” She shrugged. “Get out of my house, and when this shit fest hits the fan, if the real Tom Hiddleston is in there, let him know I will probably still be here, and I will accept his apology, but not yours, you are nothing more than some ‘Taylor-trash’.” She turned and left, not waiting for him to say anymore.