#Someone get Zac to tell us how old Colin is so I can make this joke less awkwardly.

[captainofthetidesbreath]

Karna slapping Deli across the face, then Colin also slapping Deli across the face: "My (26M) skalds (21F, late 30s-40s?M) have unionized"

[albionscastle]

First Impressions 7 - New Friends and Old Enemies

I’m writing slowly but I am writing!!!! I’m working two jobs right now so updates will be slow, but still coming.

There brief mentions of domestic violence, past, in this chapter.

Disclaimer: I actually really like Zac Efron but I thought he had the perfect look to be a Wickham character so there we go. 

FIC MASTERLIST

FIRST IMPRESSIONS 7

NEW FRIENDS AND OLD ENEMIES

LIZZIE

Colin Ryan being back in town was an unexpected and decidedly unpleasant turn of events. It had been 3 years since she’d last seen him, hightailing it out of town after she’d threatened to expose his true nature. She still shivered in fear when she thought about that last day with him, how she’d finally gathered the courage to leave, the bruises on his ribs a stark reminder of his temper. Oh, he’d slapped her, pulled her hair, screamed in her face, but for the first time she’d felt strong, strong enough to get out. With all the proof she’d gathered there was nothing that he could do except let her go and get out of town.

She’d dealt with the fallout for a year, the gossip and the finger pointing, the bill that Colin’s parents had stuck her with for the wedding, not to mention the constant lamenting of her mother. The only person to ever know what had really happened was Maya, and as far as anyone else was concerned, well it was none of their fucking business.

Though now she knew for a fact that Lydia had known about it all along and after the incident with Colin the day before she was pretty sure that Jack and Tom had cottoned on to it too. She had shrunk, all her strength had gone until the moment Jack had taken her hand. Disgusted with herself and stunned at his thoughtfulness, Lizzie had spent the whole night tossing and turning, unable to quiet her thoughts, even with her medication.

Tiptoeing into the kitchen, she passed Maya and Lydia sound asleep on the couches. For all the issues Lyds had, she was staunchly loyal to her sisters and had been able to make her laugh. Waking her before 9am however merely guaranteed you a slew of obscenities and a bitchy mood for the rest of the day, didn’t matter who you were. Maya, though, woke to the smell of the coffee maker, shuffling into the kitchen quietly.

“How are you doing, Lizzie?”

Lizzie shrugged, taking another sip of her Death Wish under her sister’s disapproving eye.

“I didn’t sleep much.”

“Drinking that crap won’t help. Did you take your meds?”

“Yes, mom, I did.” Lizzie rolled her eyes and kept sipping her coffee.

Maya was definitely the only one, other than her doctor, who knew about that. Lizzie even went so far as to have her prescription filled at the next town over, just so no one could add to the gossip. There was still so much stigma attached to her condition and the cause of it that it was best just to stay quiet.

“I’m sure he won’t be here long.”

“I don’t understand why he’s here at all. His parents moved away, retired to Aspen or some such shit. There’s absolutely no reason for him to be here.”

Maya nodded sympathetically, getting up to raid the fridge.

“Knowing that jerk I’m sure we’ll know sooner rather than later. But we aren’t going to let him get to us, right Liz?”

“Don’t worry about me, Maya. It was a shock seeing him yesterday, but now I know he’s here I can handle it. I won’t let him get to me again.”

“I’ll fucking kick him in the nuts if he ever comes near you again.” Lydia muttered, dragging herself  over to the coffee machine.

“Language Lydia!”

“Bite me Maya.”

“Stop it you two.” Lizzie muttered.

After breakfast, which was more pleasant than expected with Lydia full of caffeine, they finished a rough draft of her paper and attempted to talk some sense into her about her wardrobe. As always it was a waste of time, but Lizzie would never stop trying.

They were meeting mary and Kate for lunch at the park, the first time all the sisters had been together since Kate’s birthday party. Mary’s job and the band meant she rarely left the city and kate had been kept fairly cloistered since she entered the convent, only able to communicate through letters. Lizzie missed them both terribly and unashamedly cried when she hugged Kate, looking both like a child and a grown up in her brown habit, her eyes as big and serious as ever.

“You look happy Katie.” Lizzie whispered, not willing to let her sister go.

“I am happy, Lizzie. The convent is so peaceful and we do so much outreach. It’s perfect for me.”

Kate, or Sister Mary Kate as she would soon be known, was the center of attention. From the city Mary was in contact almost daily, especially with Maya who went to class close to where she worked. Seeing her was a happy extension of the texts and calls that were normal. Her girlfriend was a little hesitant at first, but Kate was ecstatic to meet her and quickly erased her fears of being accepted. It was just perfect, sitting on their blankets, eating and talking, just the 6 of them. Any residual ill feeling that Lizzie had about Colin was swept away in the balm of her sisters.

A soccer ball suddenly flew towards them, expertly caught by kate before it could destroy their picnic. Hot on it’s heels was a man, shirtless and so well built that even katie was gawking open mouthed.

“Sorry ladies, it just got away from me.” His perfect white smile spread across his face as he took in each of the girls in turn.

For her part, Lizzie had never seen a more gorgeous man her whole life. He turned that megawatt smile onto her and she couldn’t help but respond in kind, her cheeks flushing as he looked her up and down before holding out his hand.

“Hi, name’s Brad, Grad Wick.”

JACK

Jack couldn’t sleep, he was still wide awake at 2am, his brain refusing to shut off. He tossed and turned, kicking the blankets off then pulling them up again. He warmed milk in the tiny suite microwave and even counted sheep, but nothing worked. Every time he closed his eyes all he could see was Elizabeth cowering in front of Colin Ryan.

It pissed him off.

If there was one thing he hated it was men who abused women. It didn’t matter which woman, he abhorred it. Had Caro come to him saying she’d been hit he would have felt the same way, despite how much he disliked her. There was no excuse for violence in a relationship and least of all against someone as small as Elizabeth Bennet. He didn’t even want to imagine the extent of the abused, but his mind of course had other ideas. Instead of sleeping he’d been he’d been laying there while increasingly worse scenarios had flashed in his head.

With a 5 am call time he decided there was no use in trying to sleep any longer. He stumbled out to the bathroom, hanging his head under the cold shower spray to try and clear the cobwebs. What the fuck was wrong with him lately? Honestly this shoot couldn’t be over quickly enough in his opinion, he needed to get home, walk the glenns and get his shit together. He was a grown man, successful, in demand and yet this one bloody woman had managed to derail his peace of mind. It didn’t matter how pretty, smart or nice she was, they were from two different worlds. When he left Indiana in November he would never see her again.

The twinge he felt in his chest at that thought was something he was going to ignore.

She’d hugged him though, held his hand.

He tried to tell himself it was just the situation, that she would have done the same with Tom. The part of him that he wanted to shut up disagreed, that traitorous voice was telling him that Elizabeth might actually like him. They were both adults and maybe her prickliness was just a product of her former relationship. He just had to be….less aggressive, more….

“Don be an eejit.” he muttered as he dressed. “The last thing ye need is a fuckin woman complicatin the shite outa things.”

Lizzie wasn’t a roll in the hay type of woman and that’s all he wanted. One and done, no complications, no emotions, no phone calls, no nothing. He’d vowed he’d never let another woman close after Lisa and he needed to keep to that. No distracting redheads. He would be polite and nothing more.

If he ended each day imagining how good she might feel beneath him, or astride him, her hair falling around them both, then so be it. Taking himself in hand was infinitely preferable to the fallout that would come from being intimately involved with a Bennet.

Determined, and his mind made up, Jack was feeling a lot better when he arrived on set. Even Caro had backed off enough that he didn't dread being at work anymore, all he had to do was get through the next six weeks and he’d be home. There were any number of discrete, gorgeous women he could entice to bed if he wanted. By Christmas all this bullshit would be in the past.

“Jack!” Tom was trotting to catch up with him as he left the set for the day. “Do you want to do for a run?”

Jack was pretty sure that Tom’s new love of running was based more on necessity than a desire to exercise. With the lovely Maya no longer sharing his bed every night, the lad needed to run off all that sexual frustration.

And so did he if he was completely honest.

The late September weather was a welcome relief from the sweltering heat of July and August in Indiana and Jack barely broke a sweat as they jogged around the lakefront park. His endorphins had him feeling much better and the physical exercise would certainly ensure a good night’s sleep.

“Hold up mate!” Tom panted, bending over to catch his breath.

“Ye ain’t givin up already are ye lad?”

“Just give me a second old man.” Tom groaned. “Not all of us have your stamina.”

“Hence why ye still have the body of a teenage boy.”

“Shut it Angel Face.”

Jack winced slightly, apparently some fans had likened his unshaven face to something like a cherub and Tom hadn’t let it go since. His aversion to the comparison was a constant source of delight to Tom, who seemed to love nothing more than getting under his skin.

Snarky cunt.

He pushed Tom a little further before taking pity on him and slowing to a walk. The park was full of people, families picnicking and using the playgrounds, couples walking hand in hand. If he felt a twinge of envy, he quickly shoved it down deep. Alone was better, alone was safe.

“Tom! Jack!” Lydia’s loud call couldn’t be ignored and he groaned inwardly as Tom trotted off in the direction of the Bennet sisters.

All five of them were there, but Jack saw only one. Elizabeth sat, leaning on her elbows and laughing at the man who sat with them. He had never seen her smile like that at him, in fact he was pretty sure this was the first time he’d ever seen her really laugh.

His gut twisted.

Tom was already sitting down, an arm around Maya, commenting on Mary’s tattoo. Kate, the novice nun, smiled warmly at him and he moved closer. The memory of Elizabeth’s hand in his bolstered him, even though she was no longer laughing. He raised a hand in greeting, getting a curt nod in response.

“How are ye all doin?” Jack was about to sit down when the breath was knocked out of him in shock.

The man beside Elizabeth turned and Jack felt himself freeze, anger and disgust rolling through him.

What the fuck was that piece of shit doing there?

He looked at Elizabeth who seemed confused, then at Bradley Wick who sat there smirking, daring him to say something.

That would have been a mistake.

Instead he turned, without saying a word, and walked away.

LIZZIE

He really was a rude bastard. She watched as Jack walked away, a stunned looking Tom hot on his heels. Just when she thought there was a slight that she might have misjudged him, he had just merely reinforced her dislike of him.

Arrogant, uptight assclown.

“Nice to see some things never change.” Brad remarked wryly from beside her.

“You know Jack?”

“Shit, I’ve known him since drama school. He was just as big a cock back then.”

Lizzie’s eyes narrowed, something in Jack’s eyes had seemed deeply shocked when he’d seen Brad. there was definitely more to this story.

“Bastard never liked me. Too full of himself to pay attention to lowly nobodies like me.” Brad laughed quietly.

“Seems like there might be some history there.” Lizzie cautiously, curious despite herself.

“You noticed that did you?”

“Kinda hard not to.”

Brad’s handsome face looked sad as he took a deep breath. Lizzie instantly felt sorry for him, having a feeling that what he was about to say hurt him.

“Jack was a year behind me at drama school, we met when we were both going out for a play. He seemed like a great guy, until I got the part instead of him. Then he found out that I’d grown up in an orphanage in Leeds. After that he did everything he could to ruin me. He’s talented, don’t get me wrong, I would have been more than happy to share roles, but no. It escalated in his second year, he was cast as my understudy in a play. It just got worse until eventually he got me fired, he stashed coke in my dressing room. I had a record from when I was a teen so when he told the director, well I was done. I got booted out of school for that too. Jack ended up with an agent and a slew of offers.”

“That’s awful.” Lizzie admitted.

She honestly hadn’t imagined that Jack was that much of a prick.

“I made do.” Brad shrugged. “He was young, insecure, and a lot of people do worse in our line of work.”

“That doesn’t make it right!” Lizzie sputtered. “Was that the last time you had contact?”

“I wish.” Brad murmured, looking at the ground. “I ran into him again last year on set. He didn’t recognize me at first, not for a few weeks. The girl he was with, Lisa, sweet girl. He treated her like shit, I found her crying one day and sat with her, he saw me with her and dragged her off. Next day I saw her getting in the cab to leave, her lip was all busted. I was fired the same day.”

Lizzie felt sick to her stomach, her head spinning. It was worse than she’d ever imagined, she never would have thought that he was violent. A vision of him standing beside her the day before, facing off Colin, came unbidden. The fucking nerve of him! To act like that when he’d done the exact same thing himself!

Her stomach protested for the rest of the afternoon as she fought to engage with her family. Brad had left soon after Jack, apologetic and charming. He’d offered to take her to dinner, something she’d rain-checked. What she wanted to do was to talk to Maya, to try and process what she’d just heard.

After they’d visited their parents and Lizzie had been forced to listen to her mother informing her that she’d run into ‘dear Colin’ at the store, she finally managed to take Maya aside, imparting everything she’d learned from Brad. She’d been as shocked as expected, her eyes wide as Lizzie spoke.

“I always thought he was just prickly.” Maya gasped. “Figured he would warm up eventually.”

“As if, he’s been a dick since the day we met him.”

Maya looked thoughtful as Lizzie paced back and forth in a tizzy.

“I can’t believe the fucking nerve of him. Where does he get off acting like he’s so much better than everyone else? It makes me sick Maya.”

“Maybe Brad was mistaken?”

“I doubt it Maya.” Lizzie snapped. “The guy was practically in tears when he was done. What possible reason could he have to lie?”

“I didn’t say lie, Lizzie, but maybe Jack wasn’t responsible for all his bad luck.”

Lizzie leveled her sister with a hard glare, she really was naive at times.

“You can’t talk him out of this one Mai, you just can’t. He hit his girlfriend!”

“Yeah, I guess you really can’t argue with that. But what about Tom? Why would he be his friend?”

“I’ll bet any amount of money that Tom has no idea. Jack’s an actor, he can make himself into anyone he wants.”

“What do we do?”

“Nothing. He’ll be gone in a few weeks. Just don’t expect me to have anything to do with the asshole. I love Tom to death, but not even for you will I associate with an abuser.

“I understand. I’m just so sorry this happened.”

“I’m not, because now we know the truth of what he is.”

Even Maya couldn’t see the good in him now, and she was the one who liked everyone. By the time Lizzie got back to the apartment she’d apologized several times in text for sticking up for him. It didn’t matter, she thought sourly as she sat in her living room window, she never had to see him again unless she chose to. She was just grateful she’d found out now, instead of after she’d invited him to lunch to say thank you. He didn’t deserve a thank you, he deserved to be outed. Why Brad never had she understood, Lisa was an actress and he’d wanted to spare her the scandal. Besides Jack probably wouldn’t hesitate to ruin them both if the truth was even so much as hinted at. As much as Lizzie wanted everyone to know what a creep he was, she wouldn’t do that to Brad.

“How did everything get so fucked up?” she sighed, realising for the first time how utterly unsatisfied she was with everything.

Her life had been in a holding pattern since she’d called off the wedding and if Brad could overcome what he had then there was nothing to stop her.

It was time to stop being afraid to live.

JACK

Bradley Wick! Just when he thought he’d seen the last of the cunt here he was, as always, just in the shadows of his life. Everywhere he’d stepped in the last decade Wick was there, at least in his mind. The bastard haunted him, the mistake of attempting to be the man’s friend and co-worker was something he lived with everyday.

Seeing him with Elizabeth made his blood boil, it was as if the man knew exactly who would hurt him the most and that’s who he targeted. The only reason he’d walked away was so the ladies didn’t have to witness him pounding Wick into a pulp. That and the assault charge stemming from that would ruin his career. Brad would of course come out smelling like roses, just like he always did.

“Jack, mate. Are you going to tell me what that was about?”

“Nope.” he took a shot of whiskey, weighing up the pros and cons of just drinking from the bottle.

“Seriously man, I’m worried. I’ve not seen you like this before.”

“I’m fine Tom.” another shot. “I have history with Bradley Wick, thas all. None of it good.”

“That’s all I’m going to get?”

“Yup.” If he played his cards right he could be blind drunk before it even got dark.

“I don’t like this Jack. This isn’t like you.”

“Too bad, is me now. Take me or leave me, I donna care.”

Tom just shook his head, disappearing out the door, no doubt to see Maya.

It bothered him.

The fact that he liked Elizabeth Bennet bothered him.

He was jealous of Tom, who could give himself so easily.

The fact that he couldn’t read Lizzie bothered him, her elusiveness both enticing and infuriating.

Bradley Wick suddenly being in town enraged him.

Everything had gone to shit.

Himself included.

He couldn't wait to leave this shithole, not that he had much to look forward to in London, but it was better to miserable in familiar surroundings. As far away as he could get from Elizabeth, Brad, all of them. Callum would knock some sense into him over Christmas he was sure, his little brother never failed to be the logical one. Had he listened to Callum in the first place, the two years he'd wasted with Lisa would never have happened. None of his family had ever really liked her and made no secret of their feelings, Jack had just been too stubborn to listen.

Look where that had landed him.

He didn't have the stomach to finish the whiskey, drinking the night away had gotten old in his early twenties. Losing his head was also most certainly not the way to deal with the situation?

Should he warn the Bennets?

They wouldn't believe him, no one ever did. Wick had this fucking gift of charming his way out of every situation and he already had door in the door. Nothing Jack could say now would hold any sway, plus he would have to admit his own guilt and shame in past events. He wasn't ready for that, for the disappointment and the accusation, he got enough of that from his own mind.

He found himself wandering, the sun dipping below the horizon, the breeze from the lake chilly. Jack told himself he was just going to get dinner at the only good restaurant in town and that it had nothing to do with the place being directly across from Elizabeth's movie theatre apartment.

He kept telling himself that as he sat alone in the window with his food, watching her shadow as she read a book behind the curtains. He watched her lights go out at 8:30, tipped his waitress well and shuffled back to the hotel, ready to fall into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.  

Hoping to escape from himself for just a little while.

[fashiontrendin-blog]

7 Celebrity Grooming Tips Every Man Should Know

http://fashion-trendin.com/7-celebrity-grooming-tips-every-man-should-know/

7 Celebrity Grooming Tips Every Man Should Know

Hollywood’s squeaky clean image has been tarnished of late, and rightly so. But the squeaky clean red carpet looks are as pristine as ever, and we’re not just talking about the wardrobe department.

Strutting into the limelight with nary a whisker out of place, it’s easy to think celebrities wake up looking Photoshopped. They don’t. Behind every red carpet Blue Steel, there’s a small army of hairstylists, tanning experts and other grooms-men and women whose job it is to make their charges look like leading men.

Of course, most of us don’t have access to a team of barbers, stylists and professional arse wipers, but the most successful moves don’t require an expert on speed dial. You just need their advice. So we made the call for you, enlisting the A-list’s top grooming experts to reveal their best tips. Notebooks – not cheque books – at the ready.

The Headmaster

Let’s start from the top down. After all, while a haircut can be the crowning glory of a look, one wrong hair can mean a royal muck-up.

Consider, then, Errol Douglas to be your kingmaker. Not only has the British-Guyanese stylist earned an MBE for follicular services to the realm, he’s also chopped the locks of Brad Pitt, Lenny Kravitz and Forest Whitaker.

First rule of chop club: always enlist “a hairstyle that suits your head or face shape,” says Douglas. “For example, if you’re more oval or rounded, avoid anything too short. The opposite rule applies if you have a square face.”

Take the aforementioned Mr Pitt. With an angular, oblong-shaped head (and a sickeningly handsome one at that), the War Machine star does well to heed Douglas’s advice, keeping his cut cropped and tight to frame what his momma gave him.

Don’t trust any old barber with your mop, either. “The best advice I ever received was from John Freida,” says Douglas. “Before you commit to something big, like a new style, trial the stylist with a simple trim to see how they handle your hair.”

Hopefully, it’ll be the start of a beautiful friendship.

The Face Maker

When there’s 600 photographers blinding you on the red carpet, it pays to make sure your face looks its best. Forget Hollywood plastic surgeons. You should start by looking after your peepers, says Sara Clark, a grooming expert that’s served the likes of Dominic Cooper, Lewis Hamilton and Christian Slater.

“Pop in a couple of drops of Optrex Dazzling Blue Eyedrops. This product counteracts redness and leaves your eyes sparkling for any big event,” says Clark. And if you don’t have a wedding in the diary, it’ll also work on a Monday morning when evidence of the weekend is still written on your face.

If that isn’t enough to remedy your Saturday night fever, Clark recommends Kiehl’s Facial Fuel Scrub for some daily upkeep. This morning wash contains lashings of Vitamin E via natural apricot kernel oil – an important nutrient to rehydrate the skin and increase its natural radiance. In other words, you’re ready for your close-up.

The Maker-Upper

Shocking Hollywood revelation: men wear make-up. Always on film and often in glossy magazine photoshoots, too. Clark has worked with the likes of Tom Hiddleston and Simon Pegg before they go in front of camera and she believes some subtle cosmetic camo can work for any man.

Before you recoil in horror – or, more likely, hit that big X in the corner of your browser – hear her out. A minimal amount can be a man’s best friend.

“In the winter months, skin has a tendency to look a little a dull,” says Clark. “So, if you do want a natural glow, something like Tom Ford’s Bronzing Gel is ideal. It’s lightweight, easy-to-apply, and you only need a tiny amount.”

Eye bags are another common problem, and even regular Californian sunshine can’t prevent those. Take cover, Clark says. “A lightweight and long-lasting concealer can be applied to the eyes, and YSL’s Touche Eclat is great for the morning after. It won’t fix your hangover, but it will make you look fresher.”

The Motherplucker

Power-brows are a thing. So much so, that Leonardo DiCaprio once flew a certain someone 7,500 miles to prepare his slugs ahead of the Oscars.

Meet Sharon Lee Hamilton: said eyebrow lady, master motherplucker and preener to the Kardashian clan as well as DiCaprio. She says me shouldn’t be afraid to shape their brows, but nor should they be cavalier about it.

“Most men should only tweeze above and between the brows. Go lower, and you risk looking overdone,” says Hamilton. “A light slick of clear hair product will help hold them in place, and add minimal gloss. Then, brush them over and never trim with scissors.”

Hamilton also knows the styles to avoid. “The definitive arch – most often created by overplucking – is the worst,” she says. “Waxing can look unnatural, too. So simply maintain your bulk and you’ll have tidy but bold brows like Liam Hemsworth.” Who, along with Zac Efron, is seen as a major power-brow player by Hamilton’s team.

The Scentsationalist

Science says our scent is just as important as our outfit when it comes to making an impression, but you don’t have to tell Roja Dove that. The master nose behind Roja Parfums brews bespoke fragrances for exceptional clients. And by exceptional, we mean loaded.

You don’t need your name on the bottle to find a signature scent though. “Before heading out to the shops, do some research online,” says Dove. “Descriptions for each fragrance are important as they tell you which ingredients dominate, and which ones you may like.”

Knowing your stuff will also help you avoid the glitzy marketing spiel. “Most people don’t really smell perfumes, we smell marketing – and that’s why so many are unfaithful to fragrances. You’re buying into something you don’t necessarily want.”

To be sure, leave a sample on your skin for at least an hour before you hand over you money. Smell it again after you’ve walked around and naturally perspired a little. Only then will you know if you’ve found your star.

The Beardist

The hair on your head isn’t the only kind that needs a little topiary. Yes, your nether regions deserve some TLC, but in this instance, we mean the stuff on your face.

Jamie Stevens, an award-winning stylist that’s worked on A-listers like Colin Farrell, knows how to make your fuzz fine. “Always trim facial hair regularly, and ensure edges stay sharp.” To do this, shave halfway down your cheeks and the entirety of your neck area with a good quality razor. That’ll keep your lines on point.

“If you prefer the more natural look though, invest in a pro clipper,” says Stevens. “This will keep your beard in check without losing length or appearing overly preened.”

Add to a twice-daily moisturising routine, and Stevens insists that even the roughest beard will be red carpet ready.

The Man With A Tan

Believe it or not, spray tans aren’t confined to woodstained reality TV stars. Far more natural versions can be found if you know where to look for them and two men who do are menswear’s own Oliver Cheshire and David Gandy.

Both visit tanning expert James Harknett, who says that when it’s done well, the effects of a tan go way beyond just looking bronzed. “It can improve the skin’s appearance by reducing the giveaway redness of spots, make a patchy beard look fuller, and even create the illusion of a more defined body,” he says.

All of which we thoroughly approve of. Just realise that you’ll need more than a simple mit-and-go for an Adonis finish. “One of the biggest problems guys have when tanning at home is the product getting caught in their beards,” says Harknett.

“This doesn’t happen with a professional spray tan because the mist is fine enough to penetrate the hair. So the option is either to look for a spray-application tan to replicate that, or use a beard brush to remove any residue.”

Harknett also recommends deep exfoliation prior to a tan, with focus given to dry areas like wrists and knees. Ignore this, and the resulting tell-tale patches will take you on a one-way train to Geordie Shore.