shiftingmuse

[shiftingmuse]

🔹 Someone else’s fiction cannot cause you physical harm.

🔹If someone else’s fiction is causing you emotional or psychological harm, or distress, you can put it down and not read/watch it.

🔹Your emotional well-being is not the responsibility of fiction writers.

🔹Someone else’s fiction is not about your personal trauma.

🔹When reading or watching fiction, you always have the power. You can always stop. You are never reading fiction without your own consent.

🔹Fiction writers are not responsible for other people’s mental health.

🔹The content of a piece of fiction does not reflect on the morality of its author.

🔹Just because someone writes about bad things happening, doesn’t mean they want those things to happen.

🔹Don’t like? Don’t read.

[shiftingmuse]

[shiftingmuse]

Rumford scowled, watching the woman leave the room. He should have just taken one of the pain pills. Now he felt like a poor excuse for a future husband. If Belle thought she needed to care for him any time his old wounds acted up. He sat there on the couch feeling like an involent. Reaching into his pocket, he decided he would at least do something rather than nothing. "I'm going to order out for us tonight, since I can't cook… Is there anything in particular you want?" Gold calls out loud enough he believes the young woman might hear him.

continuation of x

Gold's hand came up in defense as the woman came near. He didn't want her to get too close and something to happen. "I-I'm fine; g-go back to whatever you were doing." He tells her, trying to straighten himself on the couch. "Good days and bad days. I think I explained all this to you." Though he wouldn't be one to let her take care of him. "I-I'll just have to stay off it for a bit, maybe give it a day or so." It wasn't like anyone would really miss him if he needed to close up shop.

[shiftingmuse]

"Oh well, that's not exactly any of your concern." The imp tells her as he is watching her pick up the pieces. "I let you wander to town, and this is the state I find you in." He tisked like a schoolteacher as he shook his finger at the woman. "Perhaps I should just take away such privileges and lock you back up in the dungeon." Of course he was simply scolding to be cruel, but he was also worried she might be a problem considering her lack of care for timing.

"You realize you're late for several things back at the castle. What am I to do when you put us behind schedule?"

@bluebellestorybrooke

The faint crunching of wood came before a man stood at the end of a trail. He'd been watching the woman moving through the forest when he finally revealed himself. A proper grin to him as he saw the way she seemed to react to the strange creature, as some might call the sight of him.

"Don't worry, dearie, I was only checking up. You're taking a lot longer than usual to fetch that hay. I was just making sure you didn't get lost on the road."

[shiftingmuse]

Lachlan actually teared up because it felt as if the situation he was in was a joke to her. "I-I'm being deported, and you're behaving like this is just another day?" Maybe that should have comforted him, but in that moment it didn't. "Thank you, but it's for nothing, you know. I-I don't have many days left here."

look,  i dunno if i’m the kind of person you need or even want right now.  but i’m looking around and i’m the only one who’s here.  ❞

( @bluebellestorybrooke , Lacey to your choice)

Lachlan came out of the police station, seeing the woman standing there. Emma had let him go because he hadn't really done anything wrong, but someone had to sign off. "It was you?" When Lacey spoke, he frowned as if what she said made this any better.

"I'm being sent back to a place I know less about since I've been here, and what, you think you'll help me?" He was angry at the world, at the country, and at himself.

"Lacey, no one else is here because I'm a lost fucking cause!"

[shiftingmuse]

Begbie jumped slightly at the thought of anyone robbing him. "Nae fuck…" He murmurs and begins to go into his pocket, trying to make sure he has what he had on him at the start. "Why did ye bring me tae th' park?" Who took a rando to a park and stayed with them? A fuckin' weirdo was all Franco could think of; his mates would have left him on the curb, and he would have been fine with it.

For the first time, Ives scowled. Should he take him to a hospital? Should he wander around shouting June and hoping someone answered? Obviously, she wasn't here, because she was probably at home with Franco's umpteen children.

Annoyed, Ives stuffed three more cigars into his cigarette pack and tucked it back into his pocket, then scooped him back up and headed out to find ice. He supposed he wouldn't just leave him there on the bench for anyone to find. No friends had left the pub to check on him, nor a girlfriend. If Ives left him, someone with less scruples--ha--might come by.

That decided it. Once he found ice for his head, he would bring Franco somewhere he could lay him down where Ives could either people watch or read. Hopefully, no other bleeding strays would test him. He had self control, but only to a point.

[shiftingmuse]

“He’s been in prison for 20 years. He gets out. The first thing he wants to do is kill Renton. He’s a different guy, he’s 20 years older. So, he’s changed a lot. You see the old and the new Begbie all in one. There’s still a lot of fun about the character, there’s more despair as well. I knew this guy so well, he’s become like a friend really. Everywhere I go, every country I go to, people know this character. He’s psychotic, but they kind of love him in a strange kind of way” [x]

[shiftingmuse]

Franco tried to look at the person at the end of the bench and groaned. His eyes went crossed, and his vision was too blurry… But he recognized the voice as his head fell back. So he knew well enough what had happened to him, but not where he was with the stranger.

"Francis…" He remembered the other man's name because it was his own. Hard to forget someone who looked like you and had the same name. "Th' fuck ur we?"

For the first time, Ives scowled. Should he take him to a hospital? Should he wander around shouting June and hoping someone answered? Obviously, she wasn't here, because she was probably at home with Franco's umpteen children.

Annoyed, Ives stuffed three more cigars into his cigarette pack and tucked it back into his pocket, then scooped him back up and headed out to find ice. He supposed he wouldn't just leave him there on the bench for anyone to find. No friends had left the pub to check on him, nor a girlfriend. If Ives left him, someone with less scruples--ha--might come by.

That decided it. Once he found ice for his head, he would bring Franco somewhere he could lay him down where Ives could either people watch or read. Hopefully, no other bleeding strays would test him. He had self control, but only to a point.

[shiftingmuse]

Begbie's eyes felt heavy, his mouth was dry, and his head still felt like it was on fire. He was fatigued and completely worse for wear, to the point he thought he might have been in jail. Only the lighting wasn't so harsh as a jail cell first thing in the morning. "Mah heed." He spoke and still felt nauseous as well from the pain and the lack of a proper meal he missed that day.

For the first time, Ives scowled. Should he take him to a hospital? Should he wander around shouting June and hoping someone answered? Obviously, she wasn't here, because she was probably at home with Franco's umpteen children.

Annoyed, Ives stuffed three more cigars into his cigarette pack and tucked it back into his pocket, then scooped him back up and headed out to find ice. He supposed he wouldn't just leave him there on the bench for anyone to find. No friends had left the pub to check on him, nor a girlfriend. If Ives left him, someone with less scruples--ha--might come by.

That decided it. Once he found ice for his head, he would bring Franco somewhere he could lay him down where Ives could either people watch or read. Hopefully, no other bleeding strays would test him. He had self control, but only to a point.

[shiftingmuse]

Reblog to let your mutuals know. . .

that they are appreciated. that they are important. that they are amazing. that they are creative. that they are loved.

No matter how long you take to reply, what mood you are in, how insecure you are feeling about your writing, or how active you are — your presence is still very much enjoyed. You never have to apologize or feel bad for taking a while with a reply, or not answering an ask right away. Life can get busy, energy can fluctuate, interest can shift, and emotions can change. You are human and these things do not make you a bad person/partner.

We write together because it is fun and enjoyable, not because it is expected of you to answer every little thing at the snap of fingers.

[shiftingmuse]

Begbie didn't have much in his pockets: the cig pack, the cheap lighter, and a few quid for drinks. He had no identification on him; what did he need it for? Most people in the area knew him well enough that they wouldn't dare try to bother him with that kind of information. Franco was oblivious, though, to the man rifling in his pockets. As if he ever had much on him worth stealing—he was the one usually doing the stealing.

Well, that was enough for Ives. Without waiting for further ire or babbling, he knocked his legs out from under him and scooped him up like a bride. "Where to?"

[shiftingmuse]

Before Franco could correct himself, he felt his legs give out from under him. That wouldn't have been difficult to deal with if he were an able-bodied man… But in that moment he was gone. As soon as his head went back, his body went limp. The head rush of it all caused the younger man to pass out; he went limp in Ives's arms. Just like a child if their father picked them up out of the backseat of a long car ride.

Well, that was enough for Ives. Without waiting for further ire or babbling, he knocked his legs out from under him and scooped him up like a bride. "Where to?"

[shiftingmuse]

The pain in his head was blinding, so much so he actually whispered soft curses into the man's shoulder. He wasn't sure what really had happened; he just knew he was still standing. "Feet?" Franco asked but oddly enough opened his eyes to look between the two of them. "Four?" He had four feet? That wasn't right; he was counting Ives along with his.

"A mule?" Ives wrinkled his nose, hands hovering in case he needed to stabilize his new friend. "I suppose I've been called worse, although I prefer a stronger, more majestic beast. Like an elk." He glanced down at poor, swaying Franco. "And you're, what, a fierce jungle cat?"

[shiftingmuse]

He wanted to snap back at the other man, but something snapped in him. The pain, the nausea—it was clear he wasn't going to be stable for long. In fact, Franco went forward and practically fell into Ives. His head falling on his shoulder as he kept a firm grip on the man's jacket.

"A mule?" Ives wrinkled his nose, hands hovering in case he needed to stabilize his new friend. "I suppose I've been called worse, although I prefer a stronger, more majestic beast. Like an elk." He glanced down at poor, swaying Franco. "And you're, what, a fierce jungle cat?"

[shiftingmuse]

Begbie--do you ever just lay down and chill? just listen to music and vibe?

This sounded like some question a lass would ask him...

'Dae ye vibe? Dae ye listen tae The Smiths? or some shite?'

He shook his head, and he'd be wrong to say he didn't put on a record when necessary. "We aw like a guid band? Guid music? Eh'd rather listen in th' club or pub…shite is better than naethin'." Only he'd have times he listened to stuff at home; he'd put on a record and sit with a fag and music. That wasn't vibing, though; Franco didn't know what to call it… contemplation? Preparation? He smirks before he runs a finger over his bottom lip.

"Ah ain a few records, naethin' worth much tae anyone… But ah only pull them out when ah can. When ah don't hae anyone aroond fur a moment." Was that considered vibing? Begbie thought about the last time, about sitting up on the couch on his own. He had the radio on because the TV was out, from his own doing.

"Ah once hud a bender wi' a few mates, an' ah fuckin' wanted tae shink Tommy, th' cunt kept playin' 'at 'Keep Oan Lovin' Yoo!' after he an' Lizzy broke up while ah was fuckin' lyin' piss oan th' floor…fuckin' cunt!"

Didn't help that he ended up home with the radio a few nights later with the song blaring because of his own inner turmoil.

[shiftingmuse]

[shiftingmuse]

Franco hit Ives as hard as he could with both hands, hitting the man's chest. He'd bypassed his arm sticking out and just went over it. Even he knew this wasn't a fight he could win; the impact made him feel nauseous. "Fuck!" He shouted as his hands went from trying to push the other man to gripping his coat.

"Ye ur a fuckin' mule!" He knew he was weaker than normal in that moment, but Begbie couldn't believe the man didn't budge an inch.

Ives watched him, one eyebrow raised in amusement, arm still out. "Well, well. Aren't we confident. Go on, shove me away."