#margaret the long suffering

[terrence-silver]

Omg I saw, "20. trying to buy the moon for their S/O because everything else wouldn’t be enough.", and I just KNOW this is literally what Terry would do. My heart lol

---

-"Mr. Silver, I assure you, it is not legally enforceable to..."- He interrupts her, slurping his tea. Loudly. Obnoxiously so, maintaining eye contact with her, one finger raised as he sipped from his ceramic cup. Petulant. Challenging her.

Margaret shakes her head. This was quite a difficult morning.

More difficult than most other mornings tended to be, surely.

-"Don't yank my chain! With enough cash, everything is legally enforceable! And I've plenty of that! C'mon!"- Because there he was, in the bathtub, yelling, twirling his fingers at her, setting down the Fine China with a clink and trying to convince her, that this was in fact, yes, doable. A notion that could be logically and plausibly conceived of. An idea quite honestly more ludicrous than when he wanted to commission Whitney Houston to sing a pro-environmental jingle for a Dynatox fundraiser commercial back in 1981. This was, perhaps, slightly more ludicrous, that was a given. And she has heard her share of dastardly propositions while in this here employ. -"But, sir,"- Margaret utilizes patience, and tries. Oh, does she try hard to explain, as diplomatically and as professional as she possibly can without snapping and shooting back with a countering, curt: 'Listen here, you little Twat!’ no matter how much Terry Silver would've been amused by that. She has been trying to talk him out of this for the better half of the past two hours now. -"This is the moon we're talking about, all due respect."-

The moon.

The moon itself.

-"So!?"- With a pursed, irritated look, he tilts his head, taking a drag out of his cigar.

-"If the Emir of Qatar or wherever the fuck could buy himself a whole star..."- He rambles, sounding borderline angry and envious as he crushes the tobacco in a nearby crystal ashtray and Margaret raises an eyebrow. Terry Silver, really quite honestly, was a bit of an overgrown child. Resentful that someone did a thing and he didn't. -"The Emir of Qatar, sir, if I may correct, only bought the formal and strictly honorary right to name the star. He doesn't actually own it. And that was only due to his generous donation to the space program that made the discovery."- She articulates, slowly, and while the act of utilizing money to impart a name upon a heavenly body was already an eccentricity all by itself, someone owning the moon that orbits the Earth could've been an elaborate joke if Margaret Spencer didn't know Mr. Silver absolutely wasn't joking. No. He meant it. He really meant things like this. -"Bullshit! Sounds like a personal problem!"- He snorts, throwing his head back, unimpressed. -"Like someone didn't think big enough."-

Oh, big enough, Margaret ponders.

When is big big enough even?

Big enough, as in, half of the solar system? A Billionaire space race?

-"Language.”- She chides, like a mother chides a son spewing obscenities. -”And, sir, if I may,"- Letting her voice grow firmer, hiding exasperation as she pushes her spectacles up. -"While I do not pertain to get involved in the personal, I will still take the liberty to conclude this is on the basis of intimate attachments,"- Shoulders straight, she goes for it. Terry Silver wanted to buy you the moon ever since you came into his life. In fact, one of the many things on his elaborate to-do list of the things he should get you were sport cars, mansions, private islands, yachts and now, a satellite. Her job, among others, as his personal assistant and secretary was to make sure all these plans became reality. To a reasonable extent. Had to draw the line here. That's why she was so close to Terry Silver. Because she could call him out on things few of his employees would dare to. Never in a million years did she believe she would be giving amorous advices to a lovestruck man richer than Onassis. -"I am quite certain they don't really need the actual moon to be happy."- Margaret Spencer allows herself a moment of heartfelt sincerity and Terry looks at her from the tub, really looks at her, as if pondering those words, fingers playing with the residue ash in the tray. Like the idea of someone not needing the moon to be happy was, well, downright incomprehensible. Margaret gives him a moment. Terry Silver always needed a moment to process things. She was just as equally ready to suggest a choice of restaurants he can, instead of colonizing planets, arrange a date on. Far more achievable and withing Margaret Spencer's paygrade. Even though her paygrade was sinfully substantial enough to justify just about anything.

Tracing his lower lip with his thumb, Mr. Silver murmurs, to himself, seemingly.

-"Not need the moon, huh?"- Sounds like he was measuring that thought. Only to speak up again, with more tenacity. Oh, no. Goodness gracious. -"Right! Screw the moon! How about..."- His eyes light up in mirth, wheels working overtime in his mind and he nearly splashes the foam out of his tub as he jolts. -"A priceless moonstone!? One of those bullshit things that can be placed, into, I don't know, a crown!"-

A crown?

He seems so pleased with that one. She sighs, adhering to it, supposing his next idea could've bene even more explosive, making a note of it in her schedule book. Penning down their people at Cartier as one of the go-to's as he smiled at her, wide, toothy like the Cheshire cat that got the last of the cream. Margaret concluded d that was more achievable of a goal than something lightyears away in the space's atmosphere. And rare meteorites of all varieties weren't that impossible to come by. Negotiations concluded.

Mr. Silver was complicated when he was in love.

Not that she's ever seen him this taken.

He never did want to buy anyone the moon but you.

[hippielittlemetalhead]

So... I lied about getting a full fix-it to This → Part 1. Y'all get parts focusing on different characters for now as Hop traverses his guilt trip. I won't say it gets worse before it gets better but... kinda in places? I promise it's a happy ending though!!

What do you want from me I'm stressed and depressed and I like making my blorbos suffer (a.k.a projecting my trauma instead of doing the healthy shit my shrink tells me to)

You've been warned... But I do hope you like it.

So here we have Part 2 (Pride and Prejudices: Joyce Edition)

He goes to Joyce about it first. Thinks about her gentle herding of the trio that has become the Hopper-Byers brood. Thinks about how she put everything he was feeling about Mike and El and their giggling and the fucking door into words that kept him from looking like an imbecile (if he'd have ever used them instead of fucking it up 'winging it'). Thinks about the way her voice stays soft and kind of quiet even when she's spitting in his face about listening to her (and every time she's been right) and how that's translated to talking down government goons and wrangling the army of children that seems to get bigger each time they have to fight interdimensional terrors. So he goes to Joyce about what Murray said, the noise Steve made with That Look in his eyes and his bandages peeking out from under a shirt that looks like one of the Henleys he's been missing since coming 'back from the dead' and they dug out his clothes from storage. (El wouldn't let her throw anything out, not until she was ready to say goodbye. Thank whatever god[s] there may be she never needed to)

He doesn't expect Joyce to make a face like he suggested inviting Owens to family dinner. He doesn't expect the scoff and eye roll as her shoulders tense and her hands flex at her sides like she's about to let loose her (honestly really attractive) righteous fury. About the Harrington kid.

Maybe he should have asked when the kids weren't home. Before El quietly told them the bullying wasn't as bad as it was in California but some people still made fun of how she spoke and how all of her friends were boys (and just as quietly asked they not do anything. Asked that they let her and The Party handle it until they couldn't). Before Will came home sulking about something idiotic Mike said or did or something the kid missed (though lately the latest Wheeler mistake is followed by bashful mention of the Emerson kid doing something specifically to make Will feel better in the moment). Before Jonathan came home from 'job hunting' or 'volunteering at the school's relief center' reeking of weed and his long-haired friend in tow (less than usual but still enough to make Joyce feel guilty for missing it for so long, for making the boy grow up so fast that he spends his days out of his mind instead of the weekend bender like when they were kids). Before The Party had come by with what homework the school was still giving out and talking over each other about all the latest small-town gossip a teenager can get their hands on (Eddie's name has been cleared but he's still laid up at the hospital. Susan Mayfield has been noticeably absent according to every nosy housewife in Hawkins considering her daughter is in a coma. The Hagans, Carvers, Perkins and a handful of other 'well to do' families have skipped town taking most of the sports population with them. Steve has been letting people displaced by the damage crash at the Harrington mansion. Steve has kept up hours at Family Video somehow and is a regular volunteer at the various relief centers in town. Steve has been giving all of them rides and may have told Dustin he's thinking of trading in the Beemer for a bigger vehicle for all the kids and people he chauffeurs about. Steve keeps a room empty and waiting for when Max wakes up before her mother makes an appearance. Steve. Steve. Steve.)

He doesn't expect the way she spits his name like she's talking about Dick and Margaret under the bleachers over a smoke before the yard teacher catches them. The rant about bullies and broken cameras and trashed kitchens and dead monsters in her fridge. The crack in her voice when she crosses her arms to stop their shaking as she lays sin upon sin at this boy's feet.

And maybe before that would have been enough.

He doesn't expect the stone in his stomach or the burning in his chest as he looks the woman he loves in the eye and says "So I guess we should tell Nancy to break up with Jonathan before he pulls a Lonnie, huh?" It's a low blow. He knows from the hurt anger on her face and on the purse of her lips. He knows that's why he said it. "That kid is lucky to be alive let alone walking and have we ever even thanked him for keeping the fucking kids alive each time they pull their dumb shit when the world goes to hell? Does that sound like anything his folks would have ever done for us? Hell for their own fucking kid they practically signed over to ME of all people?"

He's shaking now too and Joyce has her hands fluttering between them like she wants to reach out. To touch, comfort. Pull him close and tell him to take a breath.

"He called me 'His Hop', Joyce" He barely has enough breath on him to squeeze the words past his tight throat. "Called me His Hop and watched Ellie and the kids when I just couldn't and you were at work. I don't think I've seen his folks in town since the mall was opened and all the donors had that big party. Don't think I've spoken to them since '83 and they made me the kid's guardian when they aren't around cause they didn't want to fly down for a government sized concussion."

By now he knows El and Will are peeking around the corner, their eyes wide and worried. Jonathan has his door cracked and Angus (is that the hippie's name? He can't remember) is whispering something about heavy auras. Joyce is staring somewhere off in the distance, wringing her hands and biting her lips like she's facing an interdimensional portal shaped problem.

"The kids are planning to have one of their games in a few days." Her voice is brittle in a way he's not used to anymore. Not since she pulled her youngest out of hell and faced down a demon clawing through her walls. "He always drives them over and- and disappears until they need to head home. I can make sure he stays for dinner. Like the rest of the kids. I know Claudia has been having him over so I- I can get some recipes from her that he likes."

Something in his shoulders shakes loose and he reaches out to pull her practically shaking from into his chest.

"I don't know what to say to him Hop. He's not Mike and he's not like either of my boys. In my head he's just always been..."

"Dick and Margaret's brat." He sighs out and rests his cheek on the top of her head as she nods and presses herself in closer.

He's aware of eyes on them. Confused and worried and judgemental and he'll pay that piper next. These kids taught him how to be a dad again once, they can do it again, right?

Part 3

@thelittleclare @jackiemonroe5512 @0body0disphoria0 @strangersteddierthings @lingeringmirth

If I missed you in the tag list I'm sorry I tried 🙃🫡 Tell me what you think? 🫣🥲

[holylulusworld]

Very tight places - Kinktober 3

Summary: You're stuck with a soulless Sam again.

Pairing: Soulless!Sam x fem!Reader

Square 8 filled for @anyfandomgoesbingo: Amnesia

Square 6 filled for @samwinchesterbingo: Dirty Talk

Warnings: soulless!Sam being his asshole self, cheating (kinda), smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, mentions of anal sex, creampie, claustrophilia, blasphemie

Rating: Explicit

Kink: Claustrophilia

Words:

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

Catch up here: Cramped (1) & Tight places (2)

Six months later you are still hunting with Dean and Sam. You didn’t want to leave the elder Winchester alone with his soulless brother. 

Who are you trying to kid? The ugly and embarrassing truth is, that you can’t stay away from Sam for too long.

He’s intoxicating. You’re high on him, and the way he fucks you. If you had an ounce of dignity left, you’d tell the bastard to fuck off. But you are too far gone to care.

Most nights, you let him do unspeakable things to you. Dean stumbled in on you and his brother, calling you sick more than once. He wrinkles his nose anytime Sam gropes you in front of his brother.

Sam has no filter. In any way. When it comes to sex, he doesn’t care if you are in the middle of a case, at a hospital, or buying groceries. Sam wants you, and he gets you.

Anytime. Anywhere.

“Sam, what are we doing here, dressed in the cheapest costumes we could find,” you grumble as Sam decides you must play nun and priest to solve your latest case. 

Dean is out and about to find Death. Not to die this time, but to convince Death himself to help him get Sam’s soul back. 

Sam is not amused. He wants to stay like this. New and improved. Deadly, focused, and with a sexual appetite making even Dean blush.

“I look ridiculous. They will not believe I’m a nun.” Glancing around the almost empty church you sigh. At least there are not many people around to witness your poor performance.

“Why?” Sam resists the urge to grope your ass. Seeing you in your nun costume got him rock-hard. If not for the case he wants to solve, he’d have you bent over the altar already. “We look just the same as the priest I knocked out to get his clothes.”

“You did what?” you stop in your tracks to gape at Sam. “Please tell me you didn’t knock a priest out, Samuel Winchester. I don’t want to go to hell only because you have no impulse control.”

Sam smirks darkly. “You are so cute when mad,” he dips his head to whisper, “not so cute while you writhe on my fat cock. You’re a whore, not a saint. I know how you like it. Dirty and rough.”

“Sam, can you for once not think about your dick?” You growl. “We still need to find the monster killing the people at the church. Sadly, the only witness still suffers from amnesia.”

“That’s where you come in,” Sam purrs. “I didn’t want you to wear this iconic tunic only for fun. You are the one taking Sister Margaret’s place. You’ll fit in just fine.”

“I don’t want to play the next victim for the monster. Which by the way, you still didn’t identify, Sam. Maybe you shouldn’t have spent the last night at the bar with that blonde,” you snap at the hunter. You don’t give a shit if your blow your cover. Sam won’t get away with treating you like a random bitch he can fuck and leave afterward.

“Y/N, be honest with me,” he chuckles at your angry expression, “are you jealous because you are in love with me?“

“You wish,” you walk away, too angry to be around Sam today. Are you jealous? Of course, you are. Sam and you spent the last months together. Most of the time in the sheets. But last night, he told you to leave and didn’t return until early in the morning.

“Don’t be like that, baby,” Sam mocks you. “I know you love me. You draw hearts and imagine walking down the aisle while I wait for you to give you the ring.”

“You’re such an asshole,” you turn back around to snap at Sam. “I can’t wait for Dean to get your soul back. The moment you have it back, I’m gone. Don’t believe I stuck around for you and your limp dick. I did it for Dean because he’s a good man. Always was.”

“You want my brother?” His features darken, and you can see the change in Sam’s eyes. You take a step back. You know the look in his eyes. It’s the same one you see when he’s about to attack a monster. “Well, too bad. He can’t have you.”

“He can have me if he wants me.” It’s your turn to pay Sam back for all the times you asked yourself if he’s with some other girl. “Just like you had that pretty little thing last night.”

Sam snorts. “She was boring and wanted to go on a date first.” He casually says. As if this excuses his behavior, and how he treated you last night. “Come. I show you something nice.”

“Sam, I’m not in the mood for one of your games. Let’s just solve this case and we can go our separate ways. I stuck around far longer than I intended to.” You huff as Sam once again, ignores your protests. He grabs you by your arm and drags you toward the confession booth.

“Sam! What are you doing?” 

“Shush now, I saw someone,” he pushes you inside the booth and closes the door behind him. You gulp. You’re stuck in a tight place with Sam again. “Do you have your gun?”

“What kind of question is that Winchester? I’m not an idiot!”

“Good. Stay in here and wait for me,” he turns around to look at you. Something flashes in his eyes before he turns around to leave the booth. Not without telling you to lock it, though…

You’re gnawing at your nails. Sam left you at the confession booth half an hour ago, and now you don’t know if you left the booth to help him or not. 

You press your ear to the door, listening to your breathing. There is not a sound, and you wonder if Sam messed with you and just left the church.

“Open the door,” Sam knocks at the door, “now.”

“Fuck, Winchester,” you curse, but unlock the door to drag Sam inside. He closes it behind him once again and releases an annoyed huff as you check him for injuries. 

“You can't wait to put your hands on me again, huh?” Sam turns around to look you up and down. “You know,” he licks his lips. His large hands shoot toward your face to cradle it for a moment, “I think you should confess your sins to me, my dear.”

“I said I’m not in the mood for one of your games,” you pout and cross your arms over your chest. “Why did you leave me in here, all alone? Did you find the monster?”

“I fucked the nuns and gave them a good spanking,” Sam deadpans. “What do you think I did? I kept you safe. The monster wasn’t here. We will find them, though.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“And you are still my whore. My brother can’t have you,” he moves his hand to your throat. “Say it.”

“Fuck you.”

“You wish I would,” he chuckles as you claw at the hand holding your throat in a tight grip. “OR maybe I should remind you of your worth. Turn around, lift your tunic, sister. I want to see your cunt.”

“No.”

“Do it or I swear I’ll drag you out of here and fuck you on the altar like I wanted to,” he warns. You know Sam is not joking. If you don’t do as he says, he’ll drag you out and have his way with you on the altar.

He drops his hand from your throat, smirking as you slowly turn around. You shove the black tunic up your body to reveal your ass to him. 

“I hate you so much.”

“No panties,” Sam moves his hand between your legs to find you dripping for him. “you’re such a whore for me. I can’t believe I found someone like you.”

You should knee his balls and just leave him there. Instead, you press your hands against the wooden wall and brace yourself for Sam’s massive cock. He’s not a fan of foreplay when he’s like that. 

“My whore.” He runs his large hand over your back, down to your ass. “Look at you, ready to have my cock. I think I’ll go for your ass today.”

You suck in a breath. It’s always a struggle to take him up your ass. Especially when he’s impatient. 

“Here?”

“Aw, my little cockslut loves having me up her ass, huh?” His pants drop to the ground before you can even choke out a moan. Sam is on you in a blink. One hand moves between your legs to slap your pussy. “Answer me!”

“YES!”

“Louder!”

“I love your cock up my ass,” he slaps your pussylips again, and again until your tender flesh throbs and you soak his hand. “I want to feel it all the time.”

“Beg me,” he slings his arm around your throat. “Y/N, I’m not asking,” Sam growls in your ear. “I want to hear you beg.”

“Please give me your cock, Father Winchester,” he bends your body to his will and rams himself inside of your leaking cunt.

“Fuck,” Sam is not gentle. All he gives you is his free hand between your legs to toy with your clit. He snaps his hips into your ass, making you cry out with every deep thrust. “I love it when cry a little.”

“Ass-hole,” you press your hands hard against the wooden wall. “I hate you so much.”

Sam doesn’t care about your words, or that you soak his cock only a few thrusts later. He batters your cunt, hoping to force another orgasm out of you to make you see that only he can fulfill your desires.

“You make the sweetest noises when I fuck you,” he nips at your earlobe, teeth sinking in your flesh to tug at it. You moan and push back onto him. Sam knows exactly which buttons he must push to get what he wants. “I’m going to fill this cunt up again.”

You hiss his name when your body sizes up. You tremble in his arms and close your eyes as your orgasm washes over you. When he fucks you like this, from behind you can pretend it’s the real Sam, not the broken version of the hunter.

“You’re such a good slut for me, Y/N. I’ll never let you go,” his words a more threat than a promise. His hips begin to stutter. “Open that pussy for me, take my cum…”

You don’t know how you made it out of the church without getting caught. Sam’s cum ran down your thighs as he dragged you out of the place you stained with your sins.

Back at the motel, you try to make him talk to you. Sam sits across you, just staring at you.

“Sam, we still need to find the monster.” You sigh as he ignores you. “SAM! The monster.”

“It was a hoax,” he shrugs and drops his eyes to your legs. “I wanted to fuck you at a church in a confession booth.”

“There is no monster?” Your jaw drops. “You drove to the middle of nowhere, and forced me to wear a nun costume only for sex.”

“Roleplay, kitten. It’s essential to keep my dick hard.” He watches you squirm on the bed. “Be good and spread your legs. Let me see your tainted cunt.”

“Sam…can you just not be so crass all the time?” 

“I said,” he gets up from his seat to stand in front of your bed, “spread your legs and show me your well-fucked and cum stained cunt.”

“Fine,” you fall back onto the bed and spread your legs. “Satisfied.”

“Hmm…I don’t know,” he unbuckles his belt with one hand and shoves his pants down his legs. “I think you need more cum in your pussy…”

“Please tell me you got him out,” Dean looks at Death. 

“I got his soul, and we should hurry but,” Death looks Dean straight in the eyes, “I must warn you. This soul got ripped apart, and there is not much left of the brother you knew…

[16bruises]

Parasocial

word count: 1.5k

purple is other miguel

important information for writers who use google docs

Our eyes met through a screen long before we did.

“Even an obvious fabrication is some comfort when you have few”

-Margaret Atwood

The everyday misery makes it so my nights and days blend too easily for me to keep any form of a normal or healthy life. I don’t want one without them anyway.

Them.

That beautiful family.

All I’ve ever wanted.

I could’ve had them… but it wasn't meant for me. Not the version of me that I have the misfortune of being. The version I am is only allowed to long for something I can’t have and suffer. But ever since I found them… I’ve suffered less and longed more.

I imagined them with me. I could’ve been so good at having a family if I was only given time. I won’t ever admit it, it would be bad for the morale of the spider society– but I hate being a spider person. I hate that it’s taken so much. I hate that I can watch a version of me through a screen have what I long for. I hate it.

I have so much love for them. The other Miguel’s family. Sometimes I feel so sure that I love them more than that.. alternate version of me that has them. But other times I feel like any version of me would love them more than anything.

But that can’t be true– I’ve suffered for so long alone. I’m the Miguel that suffers and loves them more than any other Miguel could.

The first moment I saw this version of me, he had everything already. He was happily married to her, (y/n). The way she looked at that Miguel made me so sure that she’d love me. She would love me even though I’m not her Miguel. I could be, I’d happily be her’s.

She was pregnant with their baby the first time I saw her.

That Miguel wanted the baby to be a girl. I would’ve told her that I just want the baby to be healthy and for the delivery to go smoothly. I would’ve made sure she knew I could care less about the sex of our baby and that I would love our baby no matter what.

I will admit, I was hoping for a baby girl. But, If the baby had been a boy I wouldn’t have cared. The baby was perfect because it was hers and looked like it could’ve been mine.

That version of me was late getting to the hospital and almost missed the birth. I wouldn’t have been late. I wouldn’t be away from her that close to the baby’s due date.

I cried tears of pure joy when Gabriella was born. I loved her the moment I saw her. She was such a tiny baby, such a beautiful baby.

Since the moment she was born, the longing got worse. It was harder to focus on my duties as Spiderman and as head of the Spider Society. But, I didn’t care. I loved her and Gabriella too much to care.

—-

Everything in that Miguel’s life was so perfect. I found myself resenting myself for not being that version of me.

I hated him. I started watching him, trying to find out what it is about him that made it so he wasn’t destined to suffer while I was. Why did he get to have such a beautiful life and I didn’t?

And I found the reason.

That Miguel was destined to die. That Miguel was destined to die and leave that beautiful family behind.

That Miguel wasn’t destined to suffer because he was destined to bring suffering and longing to them.

I couldn’t let them suffer as I have. I couldn’t let it happen. I had to save her and Gabriella from the painful feeling of mourning.

I didn’t hesitate to step out of my universe and into theirs.

I looked down at that universe’s Miguel, it felt strange. The feeling must be what it’s like to be a Peter Parker, constantly seeing yourself but… not quite.

I dragged that Miguel deeper into the alleyway, away from sight. Then walked home.

She was more than I dreamed of. She kissed me the moment I walked through the door. She was real. She was everything.

The baby. My baby– Gabriella. She wasn’t a newborn anymore, 5 months old now. But, still so tiny. She giggled when I held her.

I knew they could love me. I hadn’t noticed before, how heavy the suffering and longing felt until then. The heavy feelings were suddenly gone.

I held her closer than the other me had. I hugged her more.

I held Gabriella longer and gently rocked her cradle longer after putting her to bed.

Because I loved them more.

—-

My destiny was to suffer. Leaving the universe that demanded such of my life wouldn’t change that. I should’ve known.

Maybe I was too lovestruck by her. She was mine now, my (y/n).

Maybe I was too proud that Gabriella had slept through a full night.

Maybe I was just not thinking because I’d been too excited to be with them to notice the weak rise and fall of this universe’s Miguel’s chest when I arrived.

I should’ve made sure he was dead. It would’ve been easy.

But no, I had been sloppy and too eager to go to them.

I realized he wasn’t dead when I had gone back to my home universe, telling (y/n) that I had to spend a late night at work. I had to check on the spider society and make sure my home universe wasn’t falling apart. Everything seemed fine, a few minor things had happened in my absence but nothing I couldn’t fix.

I went to check on them and saw him. He was alive. He was in a hospital. He wanted to go home, to see his fiance, his baby girl. And he would be doing just that.

I panicked. I rushed back to them.

I was so sure that the next time I was gone, he would come back.

(y/n) would be so confused. I can’t let him come back. He’d explain where he’d been but (y/n) wouldn’t understand because I had been there.

—-

When I was attacked it felt like the end. I thought it was over. I thought about (y/n), our baby, our life together. We wanted to do so much. We were going to get married soon.

Then it felt quiet. Then loud, very very loud.

I could hardly open my eyes enough to make out my surroundings.

The image of (y/n) with baby Gabi, the first time we brought Gabi home, flashed through my mind.

I forced my eyes open.

I strained my arms to lift myself off the concrete.

I strained my voice calling for help.

I pushed and strained until any sign of help appeared.

Once it did, I let myself stop straining.

–

The next thing I can remember is opening my eyes, no force necessary this time.

The fluorescents looked so bright, and so did the pale walls. The sterile smell and people dressed in scrubs confirmed my suspicion that I was safe. I was safe, I felt better, and I knew where I was.

The hospital staff wanted me to stay for another week after I woke up but I just wanted to go home. I need to make sure (y/n) and Gabi are alright. I need to go home.

After much debate, the hospital agreed to discharge me as long as I agreed to come back within the next two days for a checkup.

And with that– I was on my way home.

–

It’s not something you’re ever prepared for. I think maybe only identical twins who were separated at birth could understand… the confused terror.

Whatever this thing was… it was expecting me. It was waiting for me.

What had it done to (y/n)?

Or our baby?

Were they ok? Were they even alive? Had this ?thing done something to them?

It was standing in front of the door. Watching me. Neither of us spoke.

It looked just like me. I’ve heard of body snatchers before but I never thought they could be real.

This can’t be real. I was sure I was hallucinating, some negative side effects of the medication I’d been given at the hospital.

It was real though.

It slammed me against the floor when I reached for the doorknob.

It wanted me dead, and with how aggressive and violent it was I knew it would get what it wanted.

—-

I loved them more.

I would do anything to keep them.

Nothing would take me away.

NOTHING.

I killed him. I had to.

After I did it I took a shower. Cleaned the last bits of him off of me.

I hid him better this time.

He was dead, in another universe. Far far away from here.

That night I held Gabriella longer than I had before.

I kissed (y/n) longer, I made love to (y/n), held her until she fell asleep.

I loved them more than any Miguel could.

Part 2

Part 3

[peacephotography]

Four Lessons for the Long Haul - What Long Covid has taught me on resilience

When the paramedics came for me in the sweltering days of May 2020 it didn’t feel real. I had just passed out in the heat and collapsed headfirst into a radiator. I’d seen paramedics attend to friends and relatives, but in my feverish state, it didn’t sink in that they would come for me. My youthful sense of invincibility quickly faded. I found myself unable to lift my limbs or produce full sentences, and interminable headaches left me in despair. The after-effects are still with me today, in the form of Long Covid.

Now that I have regained some energy, I would like to share some of the lessons that illness has taught me about enduring difficulty in the climate and ecological crisis.

Lesson One: We need courage, not hope

Let the pain be your fuel. Let your total rejection of the status quo give you the courage to transform your life, to stand out from the crowd, and demand transformative action.

Margaret Klein Salamon, Facing the Climate Emergency

For the first few months of my illness, I woke up every morning hoping that I would suddenly recover and have “my life back”. Rather than letting go of what I could no longer do, I kept trying to live as before. But this detachment from the reality of my situation only brought me more pain.

Once I had the courage to face the uncertainty of illness, I let go of anxiously awaiting a miraculous recovery, and relaxed into my situation. In facing my pain and isolation I was able to accept them. They are a state of exile and vulnerability that can be a source of strength for navigating our bittersweet world.

The same is true for facing the climate emergency. If we hope that technology will save us or that criminally negligent governments will suddenly act responsibly, we are recklessly gambling our future on very poor odds. This can only bring pain.  Once we start to tell ourselves the truth about the situation, we can find pride in our honesty and compassion in our grief.  It’s from here that the resolve to take action will emerge.

Lesson Two: Follow your bliss

Joseph Campbell’s saying, “Follow your bliss,” is not an irresponsible phrase that ignores the pain of life but a reminder to receive pleasure and contentment, even in the depths of suffering.

Toko-pa Turner, Belonging

In illness, every day feels like a struggle. When it shows no sign of improving, or worsens, I lose my morale to keep going. It's an exhausting and depressing limbo. In the darkest and weakest hours, I saw my life flash before my eyes and began to dream of people and places I hadn’t seen for a decade. I saw the highs and lows that had shaped me into the man I am today. This gave me some space and perspective to see things from a different angle. From each challenge, there was a learning on how to face hardship. From each joy, an inspiration to live to the full.

Holding on to these feelings helps bring balance to life. In activism, we follow a true passion and through it find our fullest potential. But even this has its limits. Every step along the way we need to find that balance of difficulty and joy for our own wellbeing. Our struggle for climate and ecological action brings many challenges that can lead us to despairing inertia. In my sickness, a joy was as simple as the view from my bedroom window: a falling blossom, a scudding cloud, a wandering snail.

Such joys became my music, my dance, my poetry, my comedy and my sport: ways to relax into whatever challenge chronic pain brought.

Everyday joys can give us the resilience to keep facing what we must face. So as we rebel with all our might against the existential threat posed by the climate and ecological emergency, let’s also cherish what makes our existence so precious. From that reflective space we can find the courage to keep going.

Lesson Three: Words Matter

“The merest schoolgirl, when she falls in love, has Shakespeare or Keats to speak her mind for her; but let a sufferer try to describe a pain in his head to a doctor and language at once runs dry.”

Virginia Woolfe, On Being Ill

As I slowly regained my speech, I struggled to find the words to describe what I was going through. It struck me that there is a serious lack of language on both chronic illness and climate chaos.  If you are unable to express a feeling, you are unlikely to find any solace for it.

For our society to be able to come to terms with the emergency we need a language to relate to in films, literature and TV.  Some of the best I think we have so far are Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler, a piercing portrayal of the rise of sexism and racism in an uninhabitable America; The Road by Cormac McCarthy, for its portrayal of the gritty end-point of mass extinction; and early Studio Ghibli films such as Princess Monoke/Nausicaa, whose heroines champion coexistence with the natural world.

However, the vast majority of current work focuses too much on apocalypse scenarios, produced to scare the shit out of us, instead of relatable everyday stories. How about a  climate drama set in water scarce Somalia? Or a northern woman’s heroic adventure to save her hometown from flooding? We need more romances that argue over whether having kids is responsible and comedies that mock the insanity of our toxic system like The Yes Men or Simon Amstell’s Carnage.

Stories are key for an emotional connection to the challenges humanity faces. Our stories of rebellion can be cathartic for climate anxiety and stir a generation of heroes ready to speak out for their futures. Let’s start writing them.

Lesson Four: Belonging

“By reviving a community, built around the places in which we live, and by anchoring ourselves, our politics and parts of our economy in the life of this community, we can recover the best aspects of humanity. We can mobilise our remarkable nature for our own good and the good of our neighbours.”

George Monbiot, Out of the Wreckage

Being housebound and unable to hold conversations without paralysing headaches is extremely isolating. Yet even in the depths of my pain I was able to appreciate the love of our community. Rebels gave me cards, voice-notes, medical advice, paintings and - best of all – cakes, cookies  and biscuits fresh from the oven. The feeling of belonging to and being supported by a community of kindhearted and extraordinary people gave me strength every step of the way.

Together we are building a community that can hold us through the dark days with pride, friendship and joy. We are showing not only the best aspects of humanity but also the solid foundations of a successful social movement. The climate and ecological emergency will shape the rest of our lives. So take every opportunity you can to nourish and prepare yourself for the long journey ahead. You’ll not only be more resilient, but you’ll find more joy.

-- Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed this or can think of someone who could benefit from these words please do share it. If you'd like to read more, subscribe to my blog :) Peace, Robin

Photograph: Franck Fife

[andreafmn]

12 Days of Ficmas ❅ Day 3

Word Count: 4.0K Paring:  Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader Prompt @12-days-of-ficmas: anonymous donor pays for the kids at your nonprofit to have a perfect Christmas. Wait, this handwriting looks familiar Warnings: mature language

Summary: For a little over half a decade, (Y/N) has run the Angel's Touch Foundation caring for children in need from all over Small Heath. But times are hard and money is tight, and all she wants is to give the children of her foundation the best Christmas. And an anonymous letter might just have all the answers she has been searching for.

A/N: goodness, I love angst a little too much. I think y'all might need to prepare for a christmas filled with just a tad of sad 🫣🫣

<- Previous | Next ->

Life in Small Heath had never been easy. Life in England had not been easy in general. At least not for the everyday man, much less for their children. 

(Y/N) had dedicated her life to making sure no child went hungry in her town. With what little money her family had left her, she had started a foundation in their name to do just that. For a little over half a decade, the woman had seen to it that no child went hungry or homeless, especially during the holidays.

It had been hard to keep Angel’s Touch afloat for years. Keeping the foundation running smoothly required more money than was flowing in most of the time, but she somehow always pulled it off. She didn’t care if she went hungry herself for a couple of days or if she lived in the smallest apartment she could afford. All she wanted was to make sure no child went through the hardships that had been bestowed upon them with no fault to them. As hard as it was. She pulled through every year, and she would continue to do so for as long as she could. 

That particular year had been particularly difficult, with their government funding being cut in almost half, a slow influx of donations, and the amounts of intakes growing (Y/N) didn’t know how they had even made it to December without more struggles. 

“I don’t know how we’re gonna give the kids a good Christmas celebration this year, Margaret,” she sighed as she sat on her desk chair. “We’re barely making it as it is, and I don’t even know where we’ll get the necessary funding for next year.” 

“Well, we could always ask…” 

“So help me, Margaret, if you say what I think you’re gonna say, I’ll fire you right now,” (Y/N) warned. “I don’t care that you’re my closest friend and one of the only reasons I’m still standing.” 

“I’m just saying, love. He could help,” Margaret shrugged as she placed a cup of tea before the woman. “But I understand why you don’t want to call him. We could try the church again. Grovel to the Father for some more donations. At least enough to give the kids a Christmas dinner.”

“Yeah,” she responded, ignoring the fact that her friend had tried to bring up the one man she had wanted nothing more than to forget. “I’ll try to call some family friends or try to kiss up to politicians and remind them or their re-elections. Maybe see if my brother has any money to spare. I just need to find someone with big and loose pockets for this month. Then, we can worry about next year.” 

“You’ll find a way,” Margaret said with a comforting smile. “Somehow, you always do.” 

“Just one year,” she begged. “All I want is for one year to go smoothly.” 

“Oh, darling, we didn’t get into this business because it was easy,” the woman reminded her. “We do it so the children don’t suffer under someone else.” 

“Right,” (Y/N) smiled. “For the children.” 

“We’ll make it through, darling. Don’t worry your pretty little face.” 

It was easier said than done, that much (Y/N) knew. She made more phone calls than she had ever done in her lifetime, trying her best to reach everyone and anyone who would listen. As Christmas day approached, she felt her time running short. Money poured in slowly, and it was spent twice as fast. At the rate they were going, it would have surprised her if all they could give the kids was a hot mutton stew. 

But what (Y/N) didn’t know was that a higher power was in play. Something and someone she had no control over. 

A week before Christmas, after receiving another shipment of donations of basic necessities, two of the children she housed ran after her down the halls. “Ms. (Y/N)!” they yelled as they ran. “Ms. (Y/N)!” 

“Woah, Helen, William, slow down,” she chuckled softly. “You know there’s no running in the halls.” 

“We’re sorry, Ms. (Y/N),” Helen smiled angelically. “But there was a postie outside. Left a package for you.” 

“Yeah, he said it was urgent.” 

The boy extended a pristine envelope sealed with the crest of England. “Alright, thank you, kids,” she smiled “Now, go on, darlings. Go get some lunch.”

Once the children were out of sight, (Y/N) hurried to her office. The envelope didn’t say who it was from, but her name was written on it in the most beautiful calligraphy she had ever seen. Inside the room, she put aside the box she was carrying and sat quickly by her desk to see what inside the letter was so urgent. 

“Slow down, woman,” Margaret chuckled as the woman pushed her aside. “What do you have there?” 

“I don’t know,” she said. “Helen and William gave it to me. Said a letter man had dropped it off, and it was urgent.”

“Looks quite official, doesn’t it? Does it say who it's from?”

“No. It only has my name.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Margaret smiled. “Open it already.”

“Alright, alright,” she chuckled as she pulled out her letter opener. The wax came off the paper easily and, inside, (Y/N) found two pieces of paper. But it was the one in front that caught her attention. “Oh, fuck.” 

“(Y/N), such foul language,” Margaret laughed. “What is it?” 

“Someone has donated sixty thousand pounds to the foundation,” she choked out. “Do you know what this means, Margaret?” 

“Oh, fuck.” 

“My sentiments exactly,” she laughed. “We are more than set for Christmas, Margaret. And not just the holidays. We’re set for next year!” 

“Happy fucking Christmas,” the woman exclaimed. “Does it say who it’s from? We need to do something to honor whoever it was that decided to answer our prayers.” 

“Uh,” she stammered as she looked for a name. “It doesn’t say.” 

“Anonymous donor? I mean, people do get rather generous during the holidays.” 

“Yeah, I just wish we could thank whoever it was,” (Y/N) said. “But, we have enough planning to do now. Christmas is in a week!” 

“Don’t you worry, darling,” Margaret smiled. “Everything will be perfect.”

As her friend set off to work, making phone calls and ensuring deliveries, (Y/N) looked over the second paper in the envelope. There wasn’t a name there either, but she recognized the lettering far too perfectly. In a handwriting that she wished she had forgotten the words: Happy Christmas to you and the children. 

At that moment, she wanted to break down. It had been years since she had spoken to him, much less heard a word from him. Yet, somehow, when she needed him most, he appeared like a knight in shining armor. In a simple cheque, he had been able to resolve her biggest worry. All it took was the stroke of a pen, and all her problems had disappeared. It was just so easy for him. 

But she couldn’t come undone. Not when there was so much to be done.

In the blink of an eye, seven days had passed, and the Angel’s Touch Foundation was preparing for a feast. Every single one of the kids had received their fair share of toys, clothes, and anything else they might have wanted. It was truly something out of a fairytale. 

Their entire home had been decorated from top to bottom for the holidays. It made the children very excited to see the place filled with Christmas lights and decorations, and many a kid stopped to gawk at the massive tree that had been propped up at the foundation’s lobby. Everything was beautiful and perfect. 

(Y/N)’s mind should have been focused on the kids and their happy faces. She should have been zoned into their reactions when they got to open presents that morning or their surprise when they were told what they’d be having for dinner. That’s what should have been running through her head. 

Yet, since she had received that letter, only one thing lived in her mind. His name and his face swirled around in her brain like it was the only thought that mattered. It consumed her every waking moment and filled her dreams with images of him. She had done so well to avoid him for years, and with just a few words, he was all she could think about. 

After dinner, while the kids all played and laughed a floor below, she found herself inspecting the piece of paper that had started her spiral. Maybe the longer she looked at it, something would happen. Maybe it would make him walk through the doors…

“Darling, you can’t spend the rest of the night locked up in here,” Margaret said as she walked in with two glasses of whiskey. “We’re supposed to be celebrating.” 

“I am,” she smiled softly. “I just… it’s this letter. I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

“There’s no point to dwell on it, dear. There’s no name.” 

“I know who sent it.”

“What?” Margaret gasped. “So, there was a name?” 

“No,” (Y/N) chuckled dryly. “I recognized the handwriting. Instantly, actually. And I haven’t been able to get it out of my head.” 

“It was him, wasn’t it?” the woman inquired. “It was Thomas.” 

“It was,” she sighed. “I just don't understand how he could have known. I haven’t seen him in years, and then he shows up out of the blue with this letter.” 

“Darling, Small Heath is big but not big enough,” her friend mused. “Why don’t you go see him? It’s been long enough, don’t you think?” 

“And say what, Margaret? That I ran away from our home, and he’s somehow still saving me? I… I can’t go see him.” 

“But you want to,” she said. “And you know where he lives. Everyone does. So, just go to him.” 

“He’ll turn me away.” 

“It’s Christmas,” Margaret smiled. “He won’t turn you away on Christmas. Now, there’s a car waiting for you downstairs. So, go, love. Stop waiting around.” 

(Y/N) didn’t know what had possessed her, but her legs moved faster than her brain could think. And before she knew it, she was in the black car headed toward Arrow House. She could have told the driver to turn back around at any second, proclaimed she had lost her mind, and the best thing she could do was sleep off the madness. But the car kept moving, and the distance became bigger. Then, the grandiose house was looking down on her, beaconing her closer and closer. Once she was out of the car, her decision was made for her. The only way was onward. 

She knocked on the front doors, thinking there couldn’t possibly be anyone up at that hour. One second more, and she would have walked herself back home. Yet, the door opened wide, and an older woman opened the door. “Hello,” she smiled. “May I help you, dear?” 

“Oh, um, perhaps you could,” (Y/N) stammered. “I was looking for Mr. Shelby.” 

“Of course,” the woman said. “Come in. He’s just in his study.” 

“This late into the night?” she questioned as she followed the woman inside. “I thought perhaps he would have already gone to bed.” 

“Mr. Shelby keeps odd hours,” she explained. “But I think you knew that if you yourself are coming at this hour.” 

“Right,” (Y/N) chuckled. “I guess if he had been asleep, I could have used that as an excuse to leave.” 

“He was expecting you earlier in the week, Ms. (Y/L/N). But I guess you were quite busy with Angel’s Touch.” 

The woman’s words stopped her in her tracks. “You know who I am?” she asked. “And you knew I’d be coming?” 

“Of course, I know who you are. It’s my job to know,” she smiled. “Well, we’re here.” She knocked on the door before them and opened it ever so softly. “Mr. Shelby?” 

“Yes, Frances?” 

“Ms. (Y/L/N) has arrived.” Frances beckoned the woman inside, and she did as told. “I’ll leave you to it, then.” 

(Y/N) heard his voice before she saw him, and she felt shivers running down her body. His head snapped toward her the second he heard her name, and the cigarette he had just lit threatened to fall out of his mouth as he stared. 

They stood there in silence for what felt like an eternity, wondering if the image before them was a hallucination like the ones they’d had before. Maybe they were scared. Maune they thought the second one of them moved, the other would disappear.

“(Y/N).” Tommy was the first to speak. But his voice was so low it was almost as though he hadn’t, almost like he had said it as a prayer. “You’re here.”  

“Yes,” she breathed, her heart fluttering against her chest and threatening to jump outside of her body. “I came to thank you for your very generous donation.”

“Ah, so Angel’s Touch is yours,” he said nonchalantly as his demeanor changed to the mask he always wore. “I was simply trying to do a good deed this Christmas. The name of the foundation sounded familiar, but I had no way of knowing you were the one running it.” 

“You don’t have to pretend, Tommy. You already knew it was,” (Y/N) commented as she took a tentative step toward him. “Why now? After all these years, why have you reached out now?” 

“I have no need to pretend,” he announced as he filled a glass with whiskey. “I was truly just doing a good thing.”

“Right,” she conceded. “Well, I’ll simply thank you then. And since you did not leave a return address I had to come personally to give my gratitude. Your donation has changed the lives of many children.”

“Good. That’s what I wanted.”

“Alright then. I guess I’ll see myself out. Since you were only doing a generous thing.” (Y/N) turned, fully determined to walk out the doors and leave him with the same indifference with which he was treating her. But she couldn’t walk away. Not again. “Oh, cut the fucking bullshit, Tommy, and give me a real answer. Why now? I can only assume you’ve always known where I was. So, why did you reach out now?”

Tommy’s eyes found hers, and she swore she could have died at that very moment. She was sure in the infinite blue of his eyes, she could see the love he used to have for her, the love that had died after he had come home from the war. “I reached out because I heard you were in need of donations. Truly,” he explained. “I was going to hand deliver the cheque myself. Even went by the building.”

“I didn’t see you.”

“But I saw you, (Y/N). And I realized there was still so much anger and resentment buried that I decided to send it through the post. Because regardless of how I feel, those children deserve a better life than they were given,” he said defeatedly. His shoulders had fallen and she was starting to see the broken man behind the mask. “Yet, I still wrote that note, and I knew it would bring you around sooner or later.”

“For what, Tommy? Why did you want me to come here?” 

“Because I need a fucking explanation!” the man exclaimed, slamming his hands on his desk. “You fucking disappeared as soon as I came home from the war. In the middle of the night. You took your things, and you fucking left. Like I meant nothing to you. And you have the gall to stay in Small Heath. Hidden, but still there. Why, (Y/N)? ‘Cause it wasn’t just me you left. You left the entire family.”

“You’re joking, right? You truly have no idea why I left?” As she was met with silence, (Y/N) couldn’t help but laugh. She crossed the room as she did, staring out the window because it was easier than looking him in the face. “You were a completely different man when you came home. At first, I told myself it was normal. That the things you had seen in the battlefield would have haunted you ‘til the day you died. But then, there were things that could not be attributed to the war. 

I know you used the opium to help with your Shell Shock, and I tried. I tried to be okay with it because I truly believed you needed it, Tommy. But you’d be worse after. The nightmares still overtook you and your behavior… well, long gone was the man that used to make me laugh,” she sighed, wrapping her arms across her chest. “And, up to that point, I would have put up with it all because I loved you more than I loved myself. But then, you brought women into our bed. Maybe you thought I hadn’t noticed, or you believed I would keep my mouth shut and let you do as you pleased. Maybe I did wrong by you for allowing things to get to that. Still, I had not expected you to ever raise your hand at me, Tommy.”

“(Y/N),” she heard him call. 

“I can understand that you were drunk. Pissed out of your mind with the whiskey and the drugs. But I had told you how my father had treated my mother, and you had promised that you would never stoop that low.” She could feel the tears start to form in the corners of her eyes, threatening to fall down her cheeks in ugly black streaks. “That was the night I decided I would leave because I could not live in a house with a man I was afraid of. I told Polly what my plans were, and she helped me. She gave me enough money to go back to my brother’s, and she promised to keep my secret. I don’t want to think of what would have happened if I had stayed.”

“You know I would have never hurt you, (Y/N).” She could tell his voice was closer but cautious. It was the first time they had spoken, the first time they had gotten answers, and he was not about to lose his chance to understand it all. “I must admit, the man that came back from the war was not the man that left for it. I don’t think such a man even exists. But I would have never hurt you.” 

“How can you be so sure, Tommy? You swore that you would have never raised your hand at me, and you did. How far could a strike be? Or perhaps a push or a shove? That’s how it starts,” she shrugged sadly. “If I had stayed… I couldn’t have stayed. It would have ruined us both. I mean, look how well you’ve done for yourself. This house, your business, I’d say everything worked out well for you.”

“It didn’t,” he sighed, stepping even closer. She could feel his presence behind her, looming over her. She could feel the warmth from his body even as the cold from the winter seeped in through the window. “There’s always been something missing.” 

“I heard you got married,” she said. “Even got a little boy. I’d say that’s more than enough.” 

“My wife is dead. And though, yes, I still have my child, you know what I’ve been missing.” 

“You loved her,” she continued. “If love was what you were missing, you had it.”

“That is not what I meant, and you know it, (Y/N).” 

“You gave your heart to another. That’s what I know.” 

“How could I ever give something that wasn’t there anymore? Something that was taken many years before.” Tommy’s chest was pressed against her back, rising and falling at a dangerous pace. His hands ran up her arms, his touch so soft she thought it was a ghost. But he was there. She could feel his breathing on her neck, feel his heartbeat through his chest. Tommy was there, and she could not deny it. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). The last thing I ever wanted was to lose you.” 

“I didn’t want to go, Tommy. You have to believe that,” she sighed as she leaned into his touch. “I didn’t want to, but I had to.” 

“I know, but you’re here now. You’ve come back to me,” he whispered in her ear. “Please tell me you’ve come back to me.” 

“I can’t go through that again, Tommy. The children at the foundation depend on me, the workers… I cannot go back to the woman I was. I lost myself in you, Thomas Shelby. And if I did that again, I don’t know how I could survive.” 

Tommy kissed her neck unexpectedly, savoring her skin as he had done many years before. He breathed her in and sank into the familiarity of her body. He remembered her softness and her warmth, he remembered every curve of her body and the way it would react. He remembered how it had felt to have her belong to him. 

But (Y/N) also remembered how lost she had been without him at the start. Being with him meant losing a part of herself. It meant she would no longer be (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She would be Tommy Shelby’s girl. And she didn’t know if she could go back to that. Not when she had done so much to be the woman she was. 

Yet, the feeling of his lips on her reminded her of the moments they had been happy. They had been young and in love, and even if they had less, they felt the richest they could have been. His hands reminded her of a time when she had not been afraid of him, when his touch was a welcomed solace and not a dark premonition. It all reminded her of the life they believed they could’ve had. 

“Tommy,” she whispered as his kisses became feverish. “Tommy, wait.” 

“What?” he groaned. “We’ve waited long enough.” 

“If we were to do this, if we were to be in each other’s lives, we need to take things slow,” she said. “I cannot jump into these waters headfirst. I need time.” 

“Time,” he chuckled softly. “Time is something we’ve had so much of.” 

“And I need more of, Tommy. Please.” 

“Alright,” Tommy conceded. And though he wanted to be more annoyed, all he could feel was compassion. “At least stay the night. It’s late, and it’s Christmas. You shouldn’t be out on the road.”

“If this is another ploy to get me into your bed, Mr. Shelby,” she chuckled, turning to look him in the eyes finally. Those icy blue eyes that had always haunted her. 

“It’s not,” he smiled. “I can have an entire room set up for you if that’s what you’d prefer.” 

“It takes trust, doesn’t it? And it’s already a cold night, I wouldn’t want to freeze until morning.”

With a warm smile on his face, one he hadn’t remembered he could muster, he took (Y/N) in his arms. “Happy Christmas, (Y/N),” he said. “I do hope it was a good one.” 

“Well, I certainly haven’t had better in a while,” she chuckled. “But I know it’s the best one Angel’s Touch has seen.” 

“The best one yet.” 

“Right,” (Y/N) said. “I guess all we needed was a true angel’s touch.” 

“I’m no angel, darling. I’m more of a god.” 

“I can see the sense of grandeur hasn’t died down,” she chuckled as she leaned into his touch. They walked through the quiet house in each other’s arms, forgetting the past years, forgetting their absence in each other’s lives. They were simply present at that moment, and that moment only. “But I don’t think there’s anything I could do to thank you for what you’ve done.” 

“Well, there are a few things I have in mind.” 

“Very cheeky, Mr. Shelby,” she grinned. “But that’s not happening any time soon.” 

“A man can only hope,” he laughed. “But I’ll take what I can get. As long as you promise you’ll still be here in the morning.” 

“I promise, Tommy. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Next ->

My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts  or buy me a coffee to support me and my love of writing If you’d like to be tagged in every 12DoF work, any fandom or story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post!

Taglist: @beckiej0073-blog @sl-ut @adaydreamaway08 @thatgirljayy @toomanythoughts33 @haroldpotterson @elijahssuit @shara-ne @nngkay @yuki254 @laylasbunbunny @ritzblitzz @cevans-winchester @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @bibella8swan @coquita @integalacticspacemonkey @euphoria1992-blog @kiroii-ntzl @fresita1218 @evattude @heartfilia01 @bookloverfilmoholic @jinxxangel13 @haikyuuswhore @arcaurix @pinkrockstar19 @venusesworld

[yomkippur]

it's funny. it's funny! you're gonna laugh at it later.

roman roy, my favorite guy with SO many issues

mary ruefle,"woodtangle"

trickstersaint, “apostate”

charles wright, "clear night"

sunflowerdigs

fatima aamer bilal, "i am tired of making a religion out of my suffering"

haruki murakami, norwegian wood

lucille clifton, "climbing"

mischievous.dog

jan matejko, stańczyk

fatima aamer bilal, "i mother it the absence of her, iii. i am not a person that can be loved for a very long time"

tullipsink, "desperation sits heavy on my tongue"

i can't find the source for this one oops

mitski, "i bet on losing dogs"

ojibwa

margaret atwood, "speeches for dr. frankenstein"

naomi shihab nye, "hidden"

mitski, "i don't smoke"

elena ferrante, those who leave and those who stay

chaosinline

kiki nicole, NOBODY'S DAUGHTER

micah nemerever, these violent delights

rainer maria rilke, rilke's book of hours: love poems to God

tory adkisson, anecdote of the pig

dhole b., "domestication syndrome"

gillian flynn, sharp objects

amatullah bourdon, "and my father's love was nothing next to God's will"

discountgospel

trista mateer, "ask again later"

the mountain goats, "hast thou considered the tetrapod"

[batmanego]

SO YOU'RE TIRED OF BATMAN: AN INTRODUCTORY GUIDE TO DC SUPERHEROES

one of the most common things i hear when trying to get people to read comics is that they're just not that into batman. which boggles my mind! not because i'm a huge batman fan -- which i am, but i can understand why people might not be interested in his comics -- but because it's insane to me that batman (or superman, or wonder woman, or any other dc superhero they've made a movie about) is people's default perception of dc superheroes.

there's a whole world out there! and if you're intimidated by the big superheroes, or uninterested in their stories, or even if you like them but you're looking for something different, this is the guide for you. without further ado, i present:

DC MINUS THE BIG THREE: A FIELD GUIDE FOR THE DISENCHANTED AND DISINTERESTED

DOOM PATROL (1987)

to nobody's surprise, doom patrol is first on my list of recommendations. it's a comic book about a group of disabled people who have been labeled freaks, weirdos, or otherwise undesirable by society, coming together to save a world that doesn't care about them because there has to be beauty in it somewhere.

good for: well, i'll let the introduction quote do the talking. “remember when all the other kids on the block had superman and batman as positive role modes? well, if you could only identify with a human brain in a metal body or a guy wrapped up in bandages, and if you grew up weird, welcome home. you’re among friends now.”

read doom patrol here. trigger warnings for: ableism, child sexual abuse, medical abuse, transphobia.

2. HELLBLAZER (1988) BUT ONLY THE FIRST 41 ISSUES OK?

hellblazer is a 300 issue long comic book, mostly comprised of dogshit stories by dogshit writers. i am recommending it because i genuinely think the first 41 issues are art. please do not do as i did and read all of hellblazer. you won't survive the experience. ok? ok.

hellblazer is a comic about aging punk magician/occultist john constantine trying desperately to sort out his life in late 80s london while constantly being beset by poor life choices, poverty, and also lots and lots and lots and lots of demons.

good for: punks, anarchists, fans of the occult, enemies of aleister crowley, anyone who has a personal vendetta against margaret thatcher.

read hellblazer here, BUT STOP READING AFTER THE FIRST 41 ISSUES OK? trigger warnings for: literally almost everything you can imagine, but specifically discussions of child sexual abuse are prominent in the original sins run. also, it was written by a white man in the 80s, so it suffers from "white man in the 80s" syndrome.

3. WILDCATS (1999)

"FERRIS", some of you comic book knowers cry, "WILDCATS IS WILDSTORM NOT DC". to that i say Shut the fuck up DC acquired the rights to the wildstorm universe it's close e-fucking-nough.

wildcats 1999 is about cole cash (a conman and ex-special ops man), hadrian 7 (an alien robot posing as a human named jack marlowe), and noir (a bisexual ex-arms dealer from france who talks in the third person) picking up the pieces of the OLD wildcats team after they all found out they were soldiers in a war that ended before most of them were born and nobody bothered to tell them, and trying to 1) run a company and 2) save the world.

good for: people who hate the military, tacky sci-fi fans, anyone who wishes guys would suck more, anyone interested in the horrors of war.

read wildcats 1999 here.

4. SLEEPER

"ferris i want to leave wildstorm" too fucking bad. we're talking about sleeper right now.

sleeper is about holden carver, an undercover agent in the world's largest underground crime organization/network, who gets stuck undercover when his handler (the only guy who knows he's undercover and not just a traitor) gets shot and put in a coma. it is about grappling with your own morality, losing faith in your ideals, and (like most wildstorm properties), how war is a pointless exercise in horror.

good for: fans of spy thrillers, evil women enjoyers, evil men enjoyers, anyone who has ever thought they could make someone worse, people who want bad things to happen to people in power.

read sleeper season 1 here, and then sleeper season 2 here. trigger warnings for pedophilia (the pedophile gets beat to death in issue 2), homophobia, and child abuse.

5. THE AUTHORITY (1999)

stop crying we're almost done with wildstorm. the authority is a comic book about 6 super-people (who are very loose parodies of the justice league) forming a self-described "anarchist cell" to operate against the wishes and outside the influence of earth's governments to defend the planet against extraterrestrial threats and handle human rights violations.

good for: political science fans, good sci-fi enjoyers, people who think batman and superman should have kissed instead of making a million movies, people in polyamorous six-ples.

read the authority here. trigger warning for "this writer probably shouldn't have written this asian nation like this", homophobia, sexual abuse.

6. SUICIDE SQUAD (1987)

hey, remember how i was talking about wildcats? imagine the same sort of themes of wildcats (the horrors of war, the effects of being in the military, american imperialism, what it means to be a hero or even a good person), and then apply them to the worst group of people you've ever had the displeasure of being in the same room as, and they all fucking hate each other. suicide squad is about a bunch of incarcerated villains being "recruited" (forced) into working hero-missions for the government, because nobody will miss them if they die.

good for: villain apologists, people who (in the immortal words of hack/slash) think "there just aren't enough big mean women in comics", and this guy:

[ID: a comment on read comics online by “the king of anime” reading, “I want to give this a try would it be worth it”. end ID.]

read suicide squad here. trigger warning for, again "white man in the 80s syndrome", along with... probably pretty much everything else imaginable (it's been a while since i read this!)

7. STARMAN (1994)

starman is a story told with the drama of a theater production about jack knight, a late-20s to early-30s punk antiques dealer who gets the mantle of starman (a well-known superhero from the golden age) thrust upon him suddenly. it is a story about legacy, family duties, identity, and most importantly about being kind of a loser who gets shot at all the fucking time.

good for: sci-fi fans who are too proud to admit they also like fantasy, rock opera listeners, family disappointments, single fathers.

read starman here. trigger warning for sexual assault.

8. ARKHAM CITY: THE ORDER OF THE WORLD (2021)

"ferris you said no batman" i did. i did not say no batman villains.

arkham city: the order of the world focuses on some of batman's lesser-known foes, and the fallout of arkham asylum collapsing. i can't really explain it more than that, but it is good and legitimately unnerving at times.

good for: horror fans, enemies of the psychiatric system, villain enjoyers, people who live in new york city.

read arkham city: the order of the world here.

9. THE SHADE (1997) and THE SHADE (2012)

hey, remember starman? want a series about the old immortal victorian man with an "ambiguous sexuality" from it? okay. the shade (1997) follows his origins: specifically, his long-standing beef with one specific family. the shade (2012) is a sort of cross-country whodunnit as the shade tries to track down who is trying (and failing) to murder him.

good for: bisexual enjoyers, dramatic theater kids, vampire fans, goths, people who would have fucked lord byron given the opportunity.

read the shade (1997) here, and the shade (2012) here.

10. METAL MEN (2007)

lastly (but not least), a comic featuring will magnus from doom patrol. metal men (2007) is... a complicated story. it's about robots? it's about being mentally ill. it's about a guy who is so divorced forever. it's about being a little loser guy. it's about time travel, and terrible relationships with your brother. it's hard to describe. but it's fun.

good for: bad sci-fi enjoyers, people who can understand the timeline of looper, robot fans, anyone who has ever been consumed by a desire to create.

read metal men (2007) here.

BONUS:

not included in this list because batman is there, i encourage everyone to have a look at the original justice league international series. it is a superhero comedy. it is silly and stupid and i love it.

OKAY, THAT'S ALL! THANKS FOR READING!

[lolasimms]

Hi, love your writing! I saw that ur requests are open, could you do one that reader and Ellie meet for the first time at a wedding, Ellie just being really interested and flirty and reader being initially shy but warms up to her, just them having laughs and just cutesy 😭

when you know, you know

Inspired by ‘Margaret’ by Lana Del Rey

Ellie wasn’t the type who enjoyed large scale social events, so weddings were out of the question for her. She was lucky enough to have Joel as a parent growing up, as he felt the exact same when it came to such events.

This however couldn’t be avoided, Maria’s younger sister was getting married, meaning the two of them had no way of rain-checking. Seeing as she’d made them RSVP and save the date months prior to the wedding.

Ellie honestly couldn’t fathom the thought of sitting through an entire wedding reception. She’d contemplated on lying to Maria, telling her she had a big exam coming up, was swamped with assignments, had a surprise test, but no. Joel refused to attend without her. If he had to suffer through it, she had to as well.

So here she was, dressed in an old tux she’d found in her friend Vic’s closet, a navy tie she’d nicked from Joel and a glass of water in hand. Because she knew if Maria spotted her drinking she’d be dead, Joel honestly didn’t care that much, as long as she paced herself.

Sober and Alone, she was at a table watching as guests danced obnoxiously on the main floor, the bride and groom waltzing away while looking disgustingly in love and Joel and Tommy standing by the bar, whiskeys in hand. She envied them, if she could at-least have a glass she’s sure this event would be somewhat tolerable.

Too bad for her, because she knew how Maria got about these things, she’d get her “first drink” in a year and a half. Having had enough of the overly sweet displays of affection on the dance floor Ellie made her way to the bathroom to kill time.

She made her way out of the bathroom, washing her hands with the lavender and honey soap from the dispenser when a girl a few inches shorter then her came up to the sink besides her. Ellie didn’t want to get caught staring so she took a peek through the mirror. Immediately her cheeks warmed up.

She wore a baby pink dress with floral details, glowy makeup and gave Ellie the sweetest fucking smile she’d ever seen. Immediately Ellie felt the swarm of butterflies twirl throughout her stomach. Who were you to make her feel so flustered? She knew she needed to take a shot with you, the worst you could say was no.

“Groom or Bride’s side?” She asked, as you took a tube of lipgloss out of your clutch and applied some to your lips, suddenly turning at her question.

-

You knew your god-brother was getting married this year but you weren’t entirely sure when. So when your parents had called you two weeks prior to the wedding you had scrambled to find an outfit and get your assignments done before the date.

You didn’t exactly enjoy being social but seeing your god-brother so in love with his bride, the two family’s coming together and the general bliss flowing through the room you knew it was worth it. What you didn’t expect to see was the girl from your media studies class.

You’d caught sight of her sitting with who you’d assumed was her father, she was glaring at nothing the entire time, making you laugh a little. She wore a black tux, filling it out nicely and to be honest you couldn’t stop staring at her.

Honestly you’d been crushing on her for a while now. You doubt she’d noticed you in class, seeing as she was almost always late and if not she was interrupting the professor with an odd or borderline mean comment.

Here you were in the stall of the bathroom, relieving yourself when you heard someone enter the stall next to yours. As you made your way out you were pleased to see just the person you had on your mind washing her hands at the sink by yours. You were even more pleased when she’d asked you a question.

-

“Uh, groom’s side. He’s my god-brother.” She placed the lipgloss back into her clutch and smiled at Ellie.

“Good, that’s good.”

“I just mean it’s good that you aren’t actually related to the groom, would make it weird for when we get married.” Ellie smirked as soon as she saw the shocked expression on your face, she found it so fucking cute.

“You’re funny Ellie.” You said shyly, and she was taken aback that you knew her name.

“Have you been stalking me or what?” She jokes, crossing her arms and tilting her head, though she’s genuinely curious as to how you knew her name.

“Um we’re in the same media studies class.” You shake your head, looking at your feet. She immediately stills, embarrassed that she hadn’t remembered you, let alone your name.

“I feel like an absolute douchebag right now, can I make it up to you?”

“How do you plan on doing that?”

-

“Where have you been?” Joel asks as Ellie approached the table, you trailing behind her.

“That’s my business dude.” She motions for you to sit and you take the seat next to hers.

“Joel this is Y/n, Y/n this is Joel.” Ellie waves her hands, introducing the two of you.

“Nice to meet you Joel.” You give an awkward smile and he nods in acknowledgment.

“Nice ta meet ya Y/n.” His accent is southern, and his hair salt and pepper. From the way he looked and Ellie calling him by his first name you started to think maybe she was adopted.

“So, how do you two know each other?” He shifts looking over to you and then Ellie.

“We don’t, but we’re in the same media studies class.” Ellie says.

“She as much of a handful at school as she is at home?” Joel smirks, tilting his head, Ellie simply huffs and rolls her eyes at him.

“She’s okay, she asks a lot of questions.” Ellie leans over whispers into your ear and immediately you tense up at her words. You turn to look at her and for a second the both of you are stuck in time.

Looking into each others eyes, though it had only been an hour you already felt a connection. Joel cleared his throat, uncomfortable by the display of affection and made his way across the room to his brother.

“You wanna get drunk?” Ellie asks as she strokes your cheek.

“I’d love to but we can’t.” You smile, knowing there was no way the bartenders would serve alcohol to you without ID.

“Just wait here and smile.” She pats your shoulder and shuffles to the bar.

-

“How did you manage to score these?” You quietly giggle, the two of you still sitting at her family’s table as you sipped on vodka raspberry’s.

“Told them my wife and I would like two vodka raspberry’s and they fell for it.” She smirks as she leans in closer to you and you immediately take another sip, afraid you’d embarrass yourself if she looked at you that way any longer.

“You’re using that marriage thing to your advantage, huh?” You smile, looking up at her with those cute siren eyes, making her blush.

“I sure am, just means I’ll have to make it happen one day in the future right?”

“Let’s make it past the first date before we start talking about marriage Williams.”

[demoniccomplex]

Happy Halloween.

Going off these from my goretober prompts i am using for this month -wc: 1581 -tws: yandere, reader in pain, tortured, toxic relationships, broken bones.

also this is my first time writing for Margaret ever since my friend gave me her for the original prompt (had to switch it to accident since i had no idea what to write for bones), so hopefully i did her justice!

-Stitches: Jouno -Nosebleed: Ranpo -Accident: Margaret 

Jouno:

Lets be real here, you’re either getting the most torture sessions from this man, or!, you’re getting locked in a room for several weeks. Overall you’re not gonna have the best time in his forced “care”. 

Would he care enough to stitch you up? Hmmm, well, it would depend on how far he overdid it, but I would give this question a yes. He would be slightly uncomfortable giving the stitches realizing how far he actually went to get to this point. If you’re somehow able to tease this man I would not suggest it unless you actually want to be left out to rot. 

-

The loud ringing in your ears is only a low comfort compared to the aching pain shriving up your body. You knew the tears wouldn't heal anything but they continued to swim down your face. Jouno hit a spot on your arm rather viciously, one that made him backpedal on the rest of his torture upon you. It was a rare sight to behold, you would have laughed in a pathetic victory if the pain didn't choke you. Jouno cursed under his breath at the accident he caused, hesitatingly getting up with a deeping frown on his face ever so present. He left the room without a word, leaving you to suffer with no one to watch. It didn't take too long for him to come back with medical stuff much to your pained surprise. Crouching down next to you, he placed the first aid down, Jouno proceeded to lift you up and slouch you against the wall. He sighed, shaking his head before speaking up. “Let's get this fixed up before it becomes a bigger problem.”

He gently lifted up your more wounded arm with care, he already had an anti-infection cleaning wipe. Calmly he put it on the affected area, the sting only worsened and you tensed up greatly even more than you already had. Jouno’s frown only deepened at this reaction, giving another sigh he didn't want to make a bigger mess by moving you into the bathroom. It was eventually time to get the stitching done, Jouno started telling you sweet nothings to calm you. Stating how proud he was of you for being able to withstand this type of pain and how you compared to no other. 

Jouno finally got to the needle was trying to insert into your skin without causing more damage. The pain was still rampant, nothing was making it better, not your tears, and not Jouno. Every sting of pain clouded your mind, you didn't know how long it had been since this whole thing started. Yet nothing calmed down in your pained breaths or aching body when Jouno Announced he was done stitching you. He took notice of your reaction and turned his head, he once again left. The door to the basement opened signaling that Jouno was back, he had a long fabric in his hand. 

He started to wrap you up in the towel he brought, not wanting to get anymore blood on him and the floor. After he successfully wrapped you in a blanket, Jouno simply placed you on his lap, hugging you and continued to praise you while saying his apologies. 

~

Ranpo:

I'm curious on how you would be able to have a nosebleed that is not caused by injury, maybe it's boiling in the house you're in, I don't know. This is the part where the author tells the audience that he has never had a nosebleed.  

Let's say for the sake of this, you accidentally hit your nose or the air is really dry for some reason in october. Ranpo would be freaking out while also childishly complaining about how he has to take care of you. It probably won't be that bad, just a lot of complaining.

-

You were trying to remain calm and attend to your unfortunate bleeding that came from your nose as it trickled down your face. You were already tired and yet this was topping off the night. Hoping you had enough time before Ranpo came to check on you would be a blessing, but tonight was just not your night. Footsteps were approaching the bathroom, you quickly tried to clean the ever growing blood pouring down in a panic. Yet, no matter how hard you tried to make the bleeding less bad you ended up smearing it on your hands and face. The slightly already opened bathroom door got pushed open to its fullest. 

Ranpo was standing there with a lollipop in his mouth while you stood there panicked. He took a few seconds before complaining about how careless you were being and how you weren't even taking care of yourself correctly. He’d continue to blabber about how he had everything for you, you sighed in defeat trying not to take in his words seriously. However, his degrading words about who you were just kept on going while he was taking over what you were trying to do. He got done with fixing up your bloodied nose pretty quickly, while over doing his complaints. You let out a few tears at his harsh attempt at teasing, the night getting worse and worse at everything unraveling. Ranpo immediately stopped his complaints and got closer to you, stuck in your mind completely you failed to notice him pout. Finally he gave you a hug.

You began to shed more tears, sobbing on how tired you were of his complaints and how you didnt feel good enough. Ranpo hugged you tighter, he made his silence last longer, once the final words of pain fell out of your mouth, he spoke up. “I was just joking.”

Choosing not to speak after what was just said, you finally hugged him back out of the need to be comforted. You both ignored the smeared blood on your hands that were probably getting on the back of Ranpo's clothing. Neither of you paid any mind just resting in the comfort of each other's warmth. While his was blissful, yours was in discomfort. He snuggled up in your chest giving soft nothing apologies. 

At the end of his little blabbering, he spoke something that stuck with you for the rest of the night, “I wish you would get nosebleeds more often so we can have moments like these.” your eyes widen in a pained realization of what he ment. It's fine after all, he loves you.

~

Margaret: 

Hoo boy, let's sum it down to you got injured on a mission, that injury could’ve been avoided but simply you were caught off guard, hypothetically. Let's also say, for the sake of this, you get a broken rib or hell just a broken arm.

You get to see that softer side of Margaret you rarely ever see. she stays with you awhile, scolding you for not being careful enough. Yet, for the “you almost got killed!” berating, she compliments you for being strong. 

-

You lay down in a bed, agony coming from your chest, the pain killers you got to help the pain had yet to process in your body. The most you got was ice around the area where it hurt the most, you tried your best not to move, fearing the pain you felt. The door to your room opens, it's Margaret. You don't speak but give a small nod at her presence to avoid accidentally hurting yourself. She looks uneasy but still continues her way to your bedside, looking over you to make sure you’re okay. After getting a chair and sitting down in it, she starts to talk to you, firstly asking if you’re okay then getting into mission details with you. Margaret states how you gave her a shock, how fearful she got after how hard you got hit leading to your fractured ribs. Yet among the words she spoke of the accident during the mission, her turn of phrase hid a slight counterfeit to them. You brushed it off, taking in her worries about your current health as being genuine yet, it still felt off. It hurt to speak but you tried to slowly communicate back about mission details. 

Trying to stir the conversation to what could’ve been avoided. Margaret didn't let you get another word in, she tried to get you to rest more and that she would get you anything after you woke up again. A blanket of uncomfortability laid across your core, everything about Margarets person wasnt sitting correctly with you, she wouldn't let what was considered an accident, happen on purpose, right? She wouldn't let you get harmed for no good reason, right? You trust her right? Margaret took notice of your sudden clouded mind, trying to assure you it was okay, that you’ll be just fine. Her little smile meant so much she had to be genuine after all. Yeah, Margaret was just looking after you, so far the first person to check if you’re okay. 

“I’ll be back in an hour to see if you’re still awake, please try and get some rest.” 

She finally got up from where she was sitting and walked towards the door, her hand placed gently on the knob. She gave a slight turn to your direction. “It could’ve been avoided but I was in awe of you.” Margaret swiftly left out the door.

[thecrownnetflixuk]

Fond Farewells Mark the End of an Era for The Crown.

Pt 2 of Season 6 Accedes to the Next Generation – But Reigns Most Triumphant Saluting Its Sovereign.

Review & gifs by L.L @The Crown TV

I wasn't sure what to expect from the final 6 preview episodes of The Crown. Part 1 gifted us with a season-defining performance from Elizabeth Debicki, but such intense focus on the tragedy of Diana and Dodi's deaths was heavy-going. How to move forward?

Not many TV shows stick the landing, but I believe The Crown does, mostly by putting Queen Elizabeth front and centre. In four different ways! But Part 2 takes a while to forge ahead and reign triumphant.

Ed McVey and Meg Bellamy make shy William and swotty Kate believable as a young couple who meet at university – or earlier, as per a flashback with (not Ghost!) Diana. I still found it hard to invest in their will-they-won't-they relationship (we already know they do.) 

Instead, it’s sisters Elizabeth and Margaret who have long been the emotional heart of this show; at every stage of their lives.

Former Oscar-nominee Lesley Manville (alongside Queen Imelda Staunton) is truly magnificent in Ep 8 as Princess Margaret, though it's painful watching this vibrant lady struggle as her health worsens.

Memories of the 1940's are a delight. However, I wish we'd seen more of wide-eyed teen Lilibet let loose (Viola Prettejohn) and carefree Marg (Beau Gadsdon) before older Margaret says her final goodbye.

Staunton saves her best for last, bringing dry humour, vulnerability as well as leadership to Ep 10. The 70+ min epic finale 'Sleep, Dearie Sleep' has its shaky moments, but beautifully completes Queen Elizabeth's story when it counts, bringing near-perfect closure. That alone elevates Season 6 beyond Season 5.

Warning - MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD. This is my final *EVER* review (might be extra long!)

S6 is NOW ON NETFLIX - WATCH THE EPISODES before reading.

Images: courtesy of Netflix

Starting with less good news; the first couple of episodes of Part 2 were my least favourite. Ep 5, 'Willsmania', feels transitional, and a little stuck in the past. Following his mother's death, Prince William (Ed McVey; taking over from younger actor Rufus Kampa) turns inward as he struggles to cope with public attention and grief.

It's an understandable reaction to losing a parent, but Part 1 already spent nearly half a season on Dodi and Diana. It felt like we grieved in real time. As a result, whenever the subject of Diana crops up again in Part 2, it tends to weigh down both pace and narrative.

Ep 6 brings a welcome change of topic. This being The Crown, I'm sure there are critics poised to be offended by Queen Elizabeth's nightmare about Prime Minister Tony Blair being crowned king, but to me, his 'coronation' was hilarious, as was the choir boy singing Blair's cheesy Labour pop anthem.

It felt like deliberate tongue-in-cheek humour, an absurd reminder why monarchy might still be better than populist elected leaders.

I really wanted this episode to work, but it didn't go anywhere, and themes like tradition-vs-modernity were covered more effectively in episodes such as 'Marionettes.' Bertie Carvel has Tony Blair's voice down but suffers from comparisons with Michael Sheen, who was uncanny as the Prime Minister in 3 earlier Peter Morgan projects.

^ PM Tony Blair. The Women's Institute weren't fans of his grandstanding.

The Crown: The Next Generation fully arrives during Ep's 7, 9 & 10. Some will love it. Those who prefer more historical episodes with broader scope may be disappointed, as the show follows William and Kate through University life in the early 2000's.

The newcomers do bring fresh energy to the show. It helps that they cast Ed McVey and Meg Bellamy, who make a sweet couple as Will and Kate, even if William sometimes comes across as petulant.

Unlike Ed McVey as William, Luther Ford doesn't bear much physical resemblance to Prince Harry, other than red hair. Ford does however put in a good performance as Harry becomes increasingly reckless.

The Crown doesn't hide either Harry or William's bad behaviour. The brothers seem to get on well at the start, but it later seems like they're more at odds. Underneath a lot – a LOT – of boozing, both boys appear quietly screwed-up over their mother's death. Neither of them seem to enjoy playing happy families with Charles, either.

The show mostly concentrates on William and Kate, but there aren't many episodes left to develop a genuine romance. They have potential, but it feels fairly surface level. Suddenly, they rush to move into a house share together when we've barely seen them kiss. They (and we) needed more screen time to really get to know each other.

There's a bigger issue here with Kate's mother, Carole Middleton (Eve Best.) Pushy parent Carole is keen to play matchmaker between her 'commoner' daughter and the young eligible Prince, keeping tabs on William. Carole isn't as conniving, but ... didn't we just watch a similar storyline with Mohamed Al-Fayed/Dodi/Diana in Part 1?

^ Kate 'n' Will. Her Mum would frame this picture.

Ep 8 'Ritz' plays like a standalone film. Margaret's final story is touching, but upsetting, at times; I was a fan of Diana, yet sobbed as much for Margaret as the credits rolled, even though her eventual death isn't shown. In fact, her final goodbye is sensitively done and stands as a fitting tribute to the princess, as well as to the Queen.

Lesley Manville makes Margaret's predicament so real as her health slowly breaks down. She bounces back from one stroke, then another hits. How awful too for Elizabeth to watch a much-loved sister deteriorate, though it was wonderful to see Lilibet read Margaret a bedtime story. It brought out the warmer side of Staunton's Queen.

The scene where Margaret scalds her feet in the bath is genuinely horrifying. I've suffered from ill health and loss of control myself and this was so much worse. I could feel her pain. That poor woman.

Human moments are where The Crown excels; through this episode, this working-class lass from a council house could somehow relate to a Princess in a palace. Peter Morgan has surely done more to humanise the royal family than any P.R team ever could.

^ Fans of Margaret (and Lesley Manville) prepare yourselves for her sad final journey.

Onto the big reveal: when I mentioned at the start there are FOUR ways Queen Elizabeth appears – this is what I meant:-

^ Newcomer Viola Prettejohn plays teenage Princess Elizabeth.

^ & there's Olivia Colman & Claire Foy alongside older Queen Imelda Staunton.

Satisfyingly, all 3 of The Crown's leading ladies return to close the show. Olivia Colman and Claire Foy each have an additional scene, too (I won't spoil the entire finale, as it covers a lot of ground in over 70 mins, but Olivia and Claire aren't back as 'ghosts.')

As we get older, the ghosts who speak loudest are our own; the former versions of us we berate ourselves with. Not everyone may warm to the Queen (sort of) talking to herself, but personally, I was thrilled to see these talented actors on screen together.

Foy's scene with Staunton is particularly effective, as the younger Queen gives her older self an old-fashioned dutiful talking to. It's somehow also credible that they're aspects of the same person.

It reminded me of Peter Morgan’s 2013 (extraordinary) play, ‘The Audience', which inspired this series, and included scenes where Helen Mirren shared the stage with young Elizabeth. That play is also why this theatre-fan started watching The Crown to begin with, and later went on to create this website.

When Ep 10 finished playing, my Netflix returned itself to Season 1. 60 episodes over 7 years! I will miss the grand scale of The Crown, but appreciate the legacy which remains. Now feels like the right time for this story to end. A full-circle moment in more ways than one.

**Majestic thanks for reading, and to every person who has liked, reblogged, messaged, supported The Crown TV for all these years.

💎♕You each deserve a Crown of your own!♕💎**

N.B: These are my humble opinions at this point in time. No offence is intended. Agreement = lovely; not compulsory. Disagreement = happens; kindly coexist. Ta!

[notafiredemon]

Y'know, after reading the story again, I think a lot of the dislike Near Light gets as an event is predicated on it being the endpoint of the Nearl's and Kazmierz's story, which it doesn't really seem to be.

There are still a lot of threads hanging: the nature of the corrupted Robin Hood figure who runs the Armorless Union, the disappearance of Maria and Margaret's parents, not to mention the continued unsettled politicking between the big factions there after the major (heh) shakeup.

As for being a character assassination of Margaret, I also don't truly think that's the case. Like I said, there was just a huge shake up in power there at the top, and even though she is communicating, and sometimes cooperating with the powers that be, she's really doing it in a way that is more asserting and leveraging her individual power to fight for the rights of the infected. Like, her profile also states as much that she is NEVER making deals with any of the factions, she is simply asserting her (considerable) presence to make life better for the infected right now.

Likewise, this is clearly not a state that is going to hold forever: Rather than the gradual change from within that some suspect she is compromising for, it seems more likely, and in line with her established character, that she has some actionable goals she wants to accomplish before leaving. And we know she DOES intend to leave and join back with the Followers in Victoria. Remember, this is not an event she planned for, it's been a reaction to her sister being in danger from the system, and the immediate follow-up to that.

As for the other major sticking point, Margaret not actually being infected, Hypergryph had planted the seeds for that from the beginning: her medical information has always been classified, unusual for Rhodes Island, and we knew already that her being forced out of the country was predicated on her being infected.

Why didn't she tell anyone? Why was it hidden? In the eyes of the wider world she WAS infected, despite any protest she might make; the state had declared it so, and infection itself is not always immediately, physically obvious. Any protests she personally made would be met with suspicion and derision of one trying to claw their way back into society. Certainly attempting to say as much herself during the major would quickly lead to accusations of lying or jockeying for advantage by the state. No, the only way it would be believable for Margaret Nearl to not be infected would be by the very people who declared it was so to suddenly declare it not.

As to the more personal reasons for being called infected... the Followers at least, knew Margaret wasn't infected after her long travels with them. So why hide it at Rhodes Island, why not declare her health, her innocence? It's because truly, being "infected" isn't a matter of health, it's one of class, of social difference. Oripathy, certainly, is a painful and life-shortening disease, one that Margaret doesn't actually have. "Infection" is a social malady, a declaration by the powers that be that you do not matter, that you are lesser, different, inhuman, despite any protest you might make, despite how human you feel. And Margaret certainly has suffered that malady.

So when the KGCC declared, as soon as she won, that no, actually, she is not One of You, she is One of Us, she is human, she is not your champion, and when Margaret walked arm in arm with the Blood Knight to the hall of champions despite this, mutely declaring them both the victor, what she is doing, what the story is doing is putting the truth to the lie of this social malady. There IS no real difference between the infected and the uninfected, the story declared. Infection is a whim of power, meant to conquer, meant to divide.

Solidarity among the people is possible, even when ideals clash.

In short: Kazmierz attempted to assassinate Nearl with the truth of the lie they themselves made, but there's no reason for us to believe them

[er1chartmann]

Heinrich Himmler's time line

This is Heinrich Himmler, the Head of the SS, timeline:

1900: He was born on 7th of October in Munich.

1905: His younger brother, Ernst Himmler, was born.

1913: he attended his father's school in Landshut, the town where the family had moved.

1919: From April 1919 Himmler joined various Freikorps, to "erase the shame of Versailles" and overthrow the "Marxist dictatorship". These enlistments were partly due to the guilt he had for not being able to fight in the Great War

1919: In August 1919 he was already working on a farm near Ingolstadt, but his work on the farm did not last long; On September 4 he fell ill. He had paratyphoid fever.

1919: On 18 October he was accepted as a student in agriculture at the University of Munich

1922: After completing his university studies in with a diploma in agriculture, he immediately found work at a fertilizer company, Stickstoff-Land

1923: He joined the Nazi Party in 1923, card N 156.

1923: He take part in the Failed Munich Putsch, but, while Ernst Röhm and Adolf Hitler were arrested, Himmler was considered an insignificant supporting actor and therefore did not suffer punishment.

1925: He was fired and, unemployed, decided to join Erich Ludendorff's new political formation, the National Socialist Liberation Movement.

1925: During that period he also met Gregor Strasser, of whom he soon became his personal secretary.

1925: An official of the Lower Bavarian Gau, based in Landshut, he took steps to revitalize the National Socialist sections in the area. He was promoted to vice-Gauleiter of Lower Bavaria-Upper Palatinate

1928: He married Margarete Boden

1929: He was appointed Reichsfuhrer SS by Hitler.

1929: His daughter, Gudrun Himmler, was born

1931: He commissioned Reinhard Heydrich to establish the SD.

1933: When the National Socialist Party took power in Bavaria on March 9, 1933, Himmler took control of the police.

1934: In May 1934, he had command of all police forces, with the exception of Prussia.

1934: He was one of the main organizers of the Night of the Long Knives

1934: As a reward for his role, Himmler gained control of the Gestapo, the secret political police.

1934: he gave the order to search the length and breadth of western Germany, until he found the ruins of the mountain fortress of Wewelsburg

1935: On December 10, 1935, "Lebensborn e.V." was founded in Berlin.

1936: Himmler was appointed Chef der Deutschen Polizei, or commander of the entire police, political and secret activity of the whole of Germany. In this new function, Himmler could participate in meetings of the Hitler government, since his position was equivalent to that of a minister.

1936: In the summer of 1936, he had the thousandth anniversary of the death of Henry I the Birdcatcher celebrated in Quedlinburg.

1936: Himmler issued a decree to proceed with the reorganization of the German police.

1937: At the end of the renovation works, Wewelsburg had transformed into a true shrine, with dozens of statues of Henry I the Birdcatcher, Frederick of Hohenstaufen and other German heroes.

1938: on 28 October 1938, Himmler had a note spread among all SS members, according to which it was a duty for every SS man to procreate at least four children to preserve his good blood before leaving for the front.

1939: The ''Operation Himmler'' begins the Second World War

1942: Reinhard Heydrich held the Wannsee Conference, where the so-called ''final solution'' was organized

1943: on October 4 and 6 he gave the Posen speeches.

1945: Himmler appeared for the last time at Hitler's Führerbunker in Berlin on 20 April 1945, on the occasion of the Führer's birthday

1945: A few days later, on April 23, Himmler met Count Folke Bernadotte, proposing German surrender on the Western Front but not on the Eastern Front; the Western Allies were careful not to take Himmler's peace proposal into consideration; however the offer made was spread through the press and, on 28 April, Radio London announced: "The Reichsführer of the SS claims that Hitler is dead and that he is his successor". In Berlin, a Hitler in the throes of an uncontrollable rage relieved him of all his political and military duties and ordered his arrest and shooting, orders which were not carried out due to the difficult stalemate in which they found themselves all departments of the army of the Third Reich.

1945: He killed himself on the 23 of May, 1945.

Sources:

Wikipedia: Heinrich Himmler

Heinrich Himmler: the sinister life of the Head of the SS by Heinrich Fraenkel and Roger Manvell

If you don't like it go with your life :))

Note: If I get new information from my research I will edit the post :))

I DON'T SUPPORT NAZISM, FASCISM OR ZIONISM IN ANY WAY THIS IS AN EDUCATIONAL POST

[chocolatepot]

"Women's historians, feminists, and others have worked hard to develop a nuanced picture of the way patriarchal structures and male supremacy worked in the past -and works in the present. A great deal of attention has been given to continuities, but also to women's resistance and to the way patriarchal systems change over time. However, the way patriarchy is understood by nonspecialists, including some people quite indifferent to the project of women's history, often works against such subtlety. Thus it is fairly common for people to assume that eighteenth century patriarchy was so extreme and so pervasive that it made women's lives into nothing but a litany of suffering. Women, so this argument goes, were faced with overwhelming cultural taboos against disobeying male authority, possessed no real alternatives to marriage, were psychologically incapable of mounting a sustained critique of male privilege (and lacked the educational sophistication even to start), and almost universally lived lives of sexual constraint followed by years of debilitating pregnancies. Early modern women, with the possible exception of a few aristocrats, appear colonized in mind and body, the gendered equivalent of natural slaves. They cease to be human enough to populate real history. Needless to say, this picture leaves few spaces for any resistance whatsoever, much less for lesbian sexuality. And it is a great boon to people who believe that studying women is pointless or worse."

From "English Lesbians in the Long Eighteenth Century" by Margaret R. Hunt in Singlewomen in the European Past, 1250-1800

[terrence-silver]

Does Terry Silver get nervous butterflies when in love? I like to think about his sensitive side, if such a thing exists.

---

Oh, it exists alright.

He's pacing up and down, trying on several different outfits, putting his stylists through hell because the impression he wants to leave matters more than anything else right now --- he's overthinking, he's overplanning, his mansion is practically under siege, the long-suffering Margaret is reminding Mr. Silver that he should please, most respectfully, calm down before he blows a fuse because here he is, practically vibrating with excitement and buying expensive gifts in advance...and then buying several additional ones while soaking in his jacuzzi because the first one seems somehow insufficient to what he desires (and he's imagined you'll desire). He's making call after call that is meant to ensure he's delivered every bit of information, intel, every purchase, every commission, that every order is put into motion, that every piece of the puzzle that'll ensure him, say, a perfect outcome to something he's envisioned or planned with his beloved is completed to his specific instructions; he's all movement, all enthusiasm, all euphoria, he's weaving schemes in advance like he just made the business deal of a lifetime. He's been at it since one in the morning. Now, it's two in the afternoon...the next day. Man hasn't slept in over twelve hours and nobody knows exactly where he seeps the energy or endurance from; but whatever the source, there seems to be an infinite abundance of it. He's all giddy, all smiles, all laughter and that's Terry Silver in love for you. The human incarnation of a happy pill.

Impossible to contain or calm down.

His butterflies are absolutely on steroids and hitting new highs, loudly flapping away hard enough to cause a windstorm in his gut that'll put a pep in his step like he's a child about to meet his most cherished playdate after being separated for merely a day for all we know, running on excess energy, forcing everyone around him to just try and keep up with his overall stamina and increasing demands --- and good luck with that one. Milos Dadok could be there, diligently almost running behind a long-legged Mr. Silver, carrying bouquets containing a hundred and one red roses because it's go big or go home at every hour of the day in this dojo, grimly and very seriously attempting to pace himself to his Boss' wide, eager strides as he hauls the flowers forward followed by a team of staff members marching where Terry wants and needs them to be. They're on a tight schedule here! They've an agenda! Man could be any age at any time and he'll behave like a school boy about to go a first dance.

So, not only can he be sensitive, he's...I mean, look at this beautiful face?

☝️I envision Terry Silver in love is like that 24 / 7.

It's everything or nothing with him.

Guy beams infectious, boyish, unspoiled happiness like a nuclear reactor and when he truly cares and it's written all over him, I feel. All over his body language. His face. His expression. His energy. His behavior. His deeds. All of it. There's no doubt in mind this guy's enamored because when he is, emotions are open and raw. Beloved walks into the room and he immediately has this triumphant, shit-eating full mega-watt smile with two rows of teeth entirely on display at the mere sight of them as he runs towards them and his whole face along with his eyes just laugh with him. He lights up. I wouldn't say it is nervousness in the classical sense because I don't feel he ascribes to feeling, cultivating or nurturing any emotion he might view as limiting to his ambitions (in this case, his ambitions being beloved's affection), but nonetheless, it is the type of love one cannot hide and definitely the manner of reaction everyone dreams and yearns to be greeted with. He's just overjoyed. If anything, Terry Silver's very courageous and even adorably overbearing with his butterflies.

He can be the sweetest person ever or a literal nightmare.

Best pray he doesn't see you as an enemy.

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Code Blue Ch. 39- Seeing the Light

Summary: Jo's anxiety takes it's toll on her as she and Lee converse over new upsetting information. EMERGENCY. A race against time takes place. Lee gets a clue. He also gets a huge wake up call and asks someone important a very serious question.

*Warnings* language, angst, anxiety, graphic depictions

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist

Chapter characters: Lee, Josie, Orlando, Britt, Angel, Margaret

Salem, Massachusetts

March 15, 2023

The smell of maple sausage and pancakes filled every crevice of the haunted house while a morning thunderstorm rumbled on. Lee was cooking Jacob's favorite breakfast food in hopes that it would draw him out again and it was a good way to try, for they say spirits are attracted to things that they loved and are familiar with, such as the house itself. It was the only home Jacob had ever known and you knew that was the reason Lee wanted to spend some time here, hoping to see him again.

You both spent the past two days once again being hermits, wanting to spend as much time as you could with each other before Lee went back to work at the start of next week because then, you wouldn't see as much of him and it was going to drive you bat shit crazy. You were going to have to learn all over again to readjust to the long hours of a doctor's schedule. Although Lee was happy to have his career back in full swing, he wasn't much for celebrating it after the incident with Mr. Carpenter. He truly did feel sorry for the grieving man considering he knew what is what like to lose a child but he certainly didn't feel bad for socking the mourning monster straight in the jaw for his uncalled perverted comment to you. For the time being, you and Lee both thought it best to remain desolate for awhile with so many crazy people on the loose and this time you chose to do so at the home he shared with Jacob...even still.

Lee had kept his promise to you and made sure Ethan couldn't contact him via phone by changing his numbers entirely, both mobile and landline and only those he trusted were permitted to have it. You didn't know what good it would really do though since Elizabeth and Cyrus both worked at the hospital and could easily access that information....and now Lee would have to deal with both of them almost on a daily basis. He had even contemplated changing hospitals but you convinced him to not let them run him out of a place he had invested so many years in and so much time to. Was that the right thing to do? You weren't sure anymore. Everything always seemed to be one step forward and two steps back.

You had spoken to Gerry. Victor was not improving and he feared the worst for the Greek tycoon. What would Gerry and his brother do with that big old mansion all to themselves? For they knew they would inherit it and all the forestry of acres that a small town could be built upon. Gerry didn't even live in the main house. He resided solo in the guest house on the lake that was damn near a fortress all in itself. Anywhere there was water, one would find Gerry for he was an avid surfer and damn good at it.

They certainly would never sell the place since it was a Kiriakis legacy dating back as far as a century or more and Vic would surely haunt them from the grave if they tried, or most likely hell considering his mile long list of sins. You certainly believed in the afterlife now because of Lee's experiences but it actually all started when you met Dave.

Dave was someone you considered quite special in that area. He had a secret that only you knew because he didn't exactly enjoy it, nor was it something easily believed or accepted, but he trusted you, knowing how open you were. Ever since he was a child, he could see spirits and even talk to them and it wasn't always a pleasant experience. It could be down right terrifying as he sometimes would suffer with sleep paralysis in his adolescent years. Dave would be the first to tell you that monsters were real. He never knew why it was happening to him and the older he got, the visits lessened which led him to believe it was just the typical phase of imaginary friends, but when it didn't cease in his adulthood years, he then knew he had a gift of clairvoyance, one he didn't ask for, nor want and working in a hospital where people died all the time didn't help the problem. He would never leave there though. He was too much like Lee, so compassionate and loving of what he did for others. Now, if you could only get him to talk with Lee about it and vice versa, but...it wasn't your place to tell either of their secrets. Except about Liz...if Dave didn't tell Britt, you would. It was for his own safety and Dave could be pissed at you all he wanted.

You had told Britt you wanted to speak to her soon after the whole Cyrus surprise, but now you were sort of avoiding it because after your almost slip up with Dave of mentioning Jason in the present tense, you feared you wouldn't be able to keep it from her of all people, the woman Jason loves and she does him. The more you thought about it all, the more pissed you became at your brother. Britt deserved to know he was alive. She was hurting so bad and you couldn't even imagine such a pain, for if something ever happened to Lee, it would tear your soul straight from your body. Hence, your dream. You couldn't shake it, the feeling of despair in the pit of your stomach. Ethan, Liz, Johnny, Cyrus, even Mr. Carpenter...they all walked about freely to do as they pleased. Sure, you had Jason, wherever the hell he was, and Gerry or Luke, even Craig to handle them if it came down to it but you didn't feel much relief in that because it wasn't like they were standing guard at your door 24/7. All these thoughts raced through your mind while Lee sat to read the morning paper.

"Lee...maybe...maybe Landy wouldn't mind if we stayed with him for awhile since Luke will be there until he finds his own place?" you asked as you both sat at the kitchen table eating a breakfast appetizer, consisting of Lee's favorite cereal...grape nuts.

His crunching stopped as he gave you a befuddled look.

"Ok? baby...why would you want to stay there?"

"I..I don't know. For some...extra security I suppose? I mean...Luke...he has a gun and..."

"Jo...sweetheart. What's going on? Why do you feel we need protection? Besides, Landy only has two bedrooms and...you don't like guns."

"I..I know I don't and with good reason but...I like you being alive more."

"My girl...Jo Jo...is this about your dream again?" he asked as he reached across the table and laid his hand upon yours.

"Some yes...and just everything else...everyONE else. Ethan is going to lose his shit when he realizes, if he hasn't already, that he can't contact you and that means he's going to start coming around. He tried to run us off the road for christ's sake. In broad daylight, so I can only imagine what he'll do now."

"Baby, you wanted me to do something and I did. What else can I do? A civil protection order? It's a piece of paper with NO protection and there's no proof of anything he did except make a few unwanted phone calls to even get one granted. Ethan lives to break the law. It won't stop him but I'll do it if it makes you feel better."

"Damn it!!!" you shouted and grabbed your coat as you went out to the porch swing with Lee immediately following.

"Babe, hey, hey. We'll figure this out. He hasn't even been around lately. Maybe he really likes your sister and will move on. I know, I know, that's far from comforting but as we know, stranger things have happened. You gotta admit, they're a match made in Hea...Hell." he snickered as he sat beside you and smiled.

And of course, Lee made you smile. He always could even when you didn't want to.

"Yeah...I suppose you're right and...I kind of feel Mr. Carpenter is going to be more trouble than Ethan. Gerry texted me this morning. I guess he went to the police station raising hell about what happened but Gerry said no worries, that he handled it and it just looks like it was a revenge tactic over losing the negligence claim. Gerry also did some digging on him. He's been arrested multiple times for domestic violence with the mother and alcohol was always a factor. And get this...his daughter, Henrietta, that he is so upset over...she was a victim of it as well, but would never "tell" on him?. He has a son too who's always in trouble."

"Wow...it...it almost makes me think...."

Lee stopped and stared at you in thought for a moment.

"Lee? What is it?"

"Well...it's just that...Henrietta had meningioma. It's the most common type of primary brain tumor. Most cases are benign, which hers was, but it grew quite large and became life threatening....but the thing is....there's some studies that link head trauma with this type of tumor."

"Oh my god...do you think that her own father...could have caused that?"

"I don't know Jo. I suppose it don't even matter now."

"Oh yes it does because now we know what he's capable of Lee. He's a control freak and when people like that don't have it, bad things happen. I know the kind. And...how did he know so much about all of us? A lot of what he said wasn't exactly public information."

"Yeah, you're right. My guess would be he hired a really good P.I....or....Liz?"

"I really wish I knew where Jason is right now. He could literally make it all go away. I can't believe I'm even talking like this but Mr. Carpenter's angry, he's violent, and he drinks. If he knows all of that, he knows where you live. I don't like this Lee. God, when...when Lee, will it ever end???"

Lee watched as you angrily wiped your tears away and then his eyes fell. It was killing him inside to see you so distraught. Things were supposed to better now, not worse. You were supposed to feel safe with him, not afraid. You were afraid, yes...but not for yourself.

"I'm so sorry Jo." he softly and solemnly whispered. "I should have never attacked him. I just made everything worse, but...I..I couldn't help it. I'm not a confrontational person, you know that but when he began to say things like that about you....I..I just snapped."

You brought your hand to his face which coaxed his shameful eyes up to yours.

"Hey...I'm not angry with you. You did nothing wrong baby. I wanted to do the same thing for the way he talked shit about you. He is so incredibly wrong...and I...I tried to let it go because he's grieving but you know what? Knowing what we know now, I honestly don't think it's all about that. I truly think the man is deranged and I don't think he's going to just walk away, especially now that the police won't do anything. I think he wanted you to go after him, to try and show his unwarranted claims about you. But this is not your fault Lee. I mean, you certainly didn't know Gerry was going to do what he did. Hell, neither did I. Normally, he would have jumped at the chance to arrest you because he is definitely a law abiding citizen and cop."

"I appreciate what Gerry did. I really do but Jo...I still shouldn't have hit Mr. Carpenter. I let him pull me down to his level and I think it's exactly what he wanted, just as you said. I don't know Jo, who am I to judge him? I did some pretty fucked up shit when I lost Jacob and I just continued to do it all these years later. Look what I did to you?"

"The ONLY thing you will ever have in common with that man is the loss of a child. Your pain is genuine. His is like some kind of vendetta. I could see it in his eyes. There's something severely off with him and I'm usually spot on about gut feelings with people. Even Ethan. He completely rubbed me the wrong way when we met until you....I...I don't even want to talk about him anymore."

"Until I stupidly defended him? Telling you he was a good guy when I knew damn well what he was like and I kept all of that from you and I damn near lost you over it...."

"Lee, please stop punishing yourself... what he did to you...I understand it all now and...and......."

A familiar feeling rushed over you. Lightheadedness and warmth.

"Jo...baby??? Your nose..." Lee frantically said as his arm reached around you, securing you in place.

"What? Oh...oh gosh..."

You brought your fingers to your nose, in shock to feel and see the hot red liquid seeping out of it.

"Let me get you something, don't move."

"No, no Lee. I have a tissue in my pocket. It's fine. Really."

"No, it's not fine Jo. You said this happened at your mom's too. Baby, what's going on?" he direly asked as you dabbed away at the annoying and embarrassing leak.

"Tell me Jo. How long has this been happening?"

"Lee...it's just a nose bleed. You don't need to go all 'who's the doctor mode' on me."

"Don't. Don't do that. I WILL play the doctor card because that's what I am and I happen to love you as well."

You squished the kleenex against your nose and began to sob.

"I know" you squeaked. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't do that either. Don't be sorry. Come here sweet girl."

Lee pulled you into his arms, kissing your head as you continued to cry. "Here...lean your head back on my arm. I've got you."

You gazed up at him as he cradled you like a child and took over the tissue dabbing. His lips softly smiled as his shining sapphires danced inside your sunsets with such love and then he kissed the tip of your nose.

"Let me take you to the hospital. Just to be checked out."

"Lee, no. I am fine right here with you. It's stopping. I'll be fine. I'm just stressed, which is when it seems to happen."

He sighed and closed his eyes. "Here's the deal. If it happens again, I'm throwing you over my shoulder like a caveman and you're going."

You couldn't help but to burst out in laughter.

"Well you could just do that anyways and take me upstairs instead." you said with a seductive grin.

"Ohhhh....so damn tempting...but no. Babe, I think you need some rest. Come on. I'll make some hot sleepy time tea and we can snuggle on the couch with a movie and our cold pancakes and sausage, yes?"

You giggled. "Cold is better than burnt. But, yes. That sounds good. The microwave will work. You do that and I'll do the tea. I haven't managed to burn water yet."

"Is that even possible?" Lee asked with a hearty laugh as he followed you to the kitchen, pulling a hoodie on over his shirt from being chilled by the outside rain.

"We're about to find out."

Lee let out a sigh and made the sign of the cross and then flinched with a chuckle as you playfully smacked his arm.

As the water came to a boil, you thought about how much you loved these sweet little moments with him and wished it could be like that forever. No more worries, just lost in each other like high school sweethearts. You used to think challenges made you stronger but that couldn't have been further from the truth now.

You poured two cups of the piping hot herbal liquid and took them to the table as Lee finished up plating the food. During the process, you felt something trickle down your neck and heard a clinking noise on the wooden floor at your now bare feet. It was your silver chained "forever" glass seashell necklace that Lee had given you and it was just enough to set your superstitions and stress levels into high gear.

"Noooooooo...no..no..." you squealed as you knelt down to pick it up.

"Babe?? What is it??"

Lee quickly set the plates on the table and rushed to your side.

In a soft, child like whimper, your voice stuttered out as your eyes gaped with oncoming tears.

"Your...my...neck...necklace...it...it...it's...it broke...it just...fell..."

"No, no baby, it's alright. Let me see it."

Your trembling hand allowed Lee to remove it and look it over as you stood anxiously biting your bottom lip.

"My girl, it's just the clasp. I can fix it baby, don't worry." he assured you in the kindest voice and stroked your hair.

"It's not the clasp! It's the small chain links beside it. They must have snagged on my sweater. It's broken Lee! It's some fucking omen and don't tell me I'm crazy after everything."

"Jo Jo, sweetheart, please calm down. I promise you I can fix it and..."

"That's not the point! It's a symbol of forever and now it's a sign that it's broken!!" you cried, now chewing at your nails as you stared at the jinxed jewelry.

"Josie, baby! Look honey, the glass didn't break. Forever is sealed safe and sound inside. Sit down and sip your tea. I'll go fix it right now alright?"

"O...ok..." you replied in a frightened whisper and did as he told you.

Lee had only been gone a few minutes but it seemed like hours. You swore you could hear the grandfather clock ticking from clear in the other room. What the hell was happening? You couldn't relax. The sound of your heartbeat was now becoming the prominent sound, thumping through your head. You picked up your ceramic mug with unsteady hands and without thinking, you took a gulp of the boiling brew. The scold to your tongue sent you flying out of the chair and the mug shattering on the floor.

"JO!!" Lee shouted and came dashing up the stairs from the basement to find you shaking and clinging to the kitchen counter with broken shards of the mug at your bare feet.

"Baby don't move!!"

You couldn't if you wanted to. You felt paralyzed as the pressure in your head pulsed like storm waves crashing on the beach. Suddenly, Lee was hoisting you up and moving you to a dry, hazard free zone when your nose began to bleed again and you fell limp in his arms.

"Jo baby!! Baby what's wrong???!!"

When you didn't and couldn't answer him as you stared blankly into his petrified eyes, he scooped you up and rushed you out to his car, placing you into the front seat and tilting it back, then he sped off.

"Baby, can you hear me??" Lee pleaded multiple times as your eyes fluttered to stay open. His voice echoed as if it were inside of a seashell and your hand was numb to the touch of his. You heard the train horn again and saw the bright light coming towards you and then...you saw Jacob again, smiling with his big blue eyes beaming up at you as he took your hand. Then the light went dark.

"JO!! Fuck...baby wake up!!" Lee frantically shouted as his fingers raced to your neck to feel for a pulse. It was there but faint.

"That's it baby doll, stay with me!! Don't you fucking leave me. Forever baby...forever. Do you hear me?? Breathe Jo....breathe."

Lee was now fighting his sobs as he struggled to drive but he knew he had to focus to get you to the hospital safely. He freed his android from his pocket and used the voice command to call Orlando.

"Ok google, call Orlando!"

"Showing results for Orlando, Florida."

"Not fucking Florida you stupid piece of shit!" Lee shouted and then swerved as he heard the loud bellow of a semi horn and looked up to find himself in the oncoming traffic lane.

Lee whipped back into line, trying to catch his breath as he just missed the truck by only a few feet.

"Shit...focus Lee!" he scolded himself and then remembered that he didn't even have Orlando listed under his given name.

"Ok google, call LANDY!!"

"Calling Landy."

"Come on, pick up, pick up Landy!!"

"Hey what's up Lee Lee the Bee Gee."

"Lando! Man, where are you?? The hospital??"

"Yeah, Lee? What's going on?? You sound..."

"It's Jo man...I'm on my way there. She...she just collapsed."

"Oh my god what?? I'm on my way down to the ER now. Where are you?? Is she breathing??"

"Yeah..yes....thank god. I'm about ten minutes away and....no. Fuck."

"Lee??!!"

"I gotta go man, there's a fucking train coming and I have to beat it."

"Jesus, Lee. You need to calm down and....L..Lee???"

Lee dropped his phone and put the pedal to the metal on his classic Dodge Dart as the gates were starting to come down.

"Not today train. You can't have her too!!"

Over the tracks he sped, luckily with no cars in his way as the gates missed his car by merely inches. He caught sight of the train in the distance, the large headlight blinding his widened eyes as it blared it's deafening ominous horn.

"WOOHOOO! We made it baby!" Lee reeled as an adrenaline rush flooded his body. "We're going to make it. You are going to make it. I love you, do you hear me???"

The tires slid as he whipped into the emergency room parking lot and then he came to a screeching halt at the doors, quickly abandoning his car as he carried you inside.

"HELP!! Help!" Lee called out to whomever would listen as he searched for Orlando.

"Lee!!" Orlando shouted as he came running out from a room he had being prepared for you. "Bring her in here!"

Britt rushed in as well as Lee gently laid you upon the bed, scared as hell to let go of you.

"It's ok baby. I'm right here Jo Jo...you keep breathing, do you hear me?"

"Lee, tell me what happened?" Britt asked as Landy began tending to you with another nurse.

"I...I...don't know. She...she had a nose bleed. She said...she said she had one before, about a week ago. I got it to stop and she swore she was fine and she seemed fine and then she just collapsed in my arms and..."

Lee bent over to lean on his knees as he himself was trying to breathe.

"Alright. Anything else you can think of? Did she mention any other symptoms? Did she take any medications?"

"No Britt. Nothing. She's...she's stressed out, that much I know. We found more things out, disturbing things about Mr. Carpenter and that's when she got the first nose bleed today and then...I don't fucking know. Her necklace broke and she became all anxious about it and the next thing I knew, this happened. She...she just stared at me. She couldn't speak. Britt, what if she had a stroke??"

"Ok..ok. Let's not think the worst. I'm going to order labs, a CT and start an I.V. and we'll go from there. Dr. Bloom, how's her vitals?"

"Her blood pressure is high. 175/80. Oxygen is normal. Pulse rate high, pupils constricting."

"Ok. Let's get her blood work and get her on some fluids, then take her down for the CT. Lee, I need you to wait in the waiting room please, while the nurse..."

"What?? NO! I'm not leaving her Britt! Let me help. I'm a fucking doctor for christ sake."

"You're not her doctor nor are you on duty and you're in no state of mind to assist. You're too close to this Lee and you need to give the nurse room to work without you hovering. You know the rules and how this works. She's in good hands. I'm sorry but you need to let us do our jobs and go collect yourself. You're no good to her like this."

"Fuck your rules Britt. She needs to hear my voice and know I'm here! You're too close to this too, so is Landy!"

"Look...Lee. I know how much you love her, I really do, which is why you can't be objective. I love her too and I promise you she will be taken care of and we will come get you as soon as we get her situated and know what's going on. Now please...go try and calm down, maybe call her mom."

"Lee. man. I swear it. I'll take good care of her. You know I will." Orlando assured him and gave his best friend a hug, which caused Lee to break down.

"I'm scared man. I'm scared to leave her. I've never been so scared of anything in my life. I can't lose her. I can't....just...just let me talk to her for one minute. Please."

Orlando smiled and nodded as he patted Lee on the shoulder. By this time, the nurse had the I.V. line all taped up to your wrist and was drawing your blood as he went and tenderly held your other hand.

"My beautiful sweet girl. If you can hear me, I need you to know that I will just be right down the hall. I swear I will never leave you. You're my entire world so you can't leave me either ok? I love you Miss Massachusetts, in ways you've never been loved, for reasons you've never been told, for longer than you think you deserved and with more than you will ever know existed inside me. It's always been you. And I'd choose you in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you all over again."

You heard him. Every word but you couldn't open your eyes or speak, but you did manage, with everything inside of you, to lightly squeeze his hand.

Lee cried and kissed your cheek over and over and then he placed one small soft kiss upon your lips as he whispered "forever" over them. He then reluctantly let go of your hand and sobbed all the way to the empty waiting room that he was very thankful for.

He paced about the large room, stared out the window for awhile and then he was startled awake by someone's touch.

"Hey. Lee."

"Jo??...Oh....sorry. Is she..."

"She's fine, awake and has been admitted for observation." Nurse Angel, his neighbor, told him.

Lee closed his eyes and sighed loudly in relief. "Angel...what...do they know what happened? Can I see her now?"

"In just a few minutes, I'll take you down. They're just settling her into a room. I'll let them tell you what they found. I just got on duty and heard what happened, so I came looking for you at Dr. Bloom's request. He said to tell you he had your car parked and he has your keys and he will be back to see you both when he finishes rounds."

"Oh...yeah...I..I forgot all about my car. God, I don't even remember falling asleep. What time is it??"

"It's 11 am."

"Jesus, it's been two hours?? You..you said she's awake. Did you see her at all? How did she seem?"

"Well...she was sitting up and definitely asking for you, so I'm guessing she is alright, nothing too serious. Hey, I heard all about your hearing the other day. Congratulations and welcome back. We've missed you something awful. It has definitely not been the same without you here. Don't let Mr. Carpenter get to you. He's just sad. That poor man. I guess that his marriage is on the fritz. He told me a lot about Henrietta and how close they were. I couldn't imagine losing a child. Dash means everything to me. Oh god...I...I'm sorry Lee, that was so insensitive of me to say to you."

"No. It's fine. So uh....Mr. Carpenter spoke to you about her...and..his marriage??"

"Oh...I...umm. No, no. He talked a lot to all the nurses. Trust me. I just overheard things. You know, the gossip and stuff. I just wish he wasn't hell bent on making you suffer. It's such a good thing you have Jolene to help you through it all."

"It's Josie...remember? and yeah...I'm pretty much his scapegoat it seems."

"Oh gosh, that's right. I always get her name screwed up. So, what do you mean by scapegoat? I thought they ruled out any wrong doings from the autopsy and that no one caused it?"

Lee gazed at her for a moment and something began to click regarding the conversation you and he had earlier about someone leaking personal information....and Angel knew more than she should because of Liz.

"Nah, it's nothing. I don't even want to talk about this really. Can I go see Jo now?"

"Well, if you ever want to talk about anything at all, I just live right next door. I miss seeing you. So does Dash. So, yeah, come on. I'll take you to her."

Angel then led Lee out of the waiting room and down the hall, lightly rubbing his back as she did so.

The minute the door opened, Lee's anxious eyes and yours immediately connected as he paused his steps, then he bolted right to your reached out arms, both of you crying as you held each other so tight for the longest time.

"My god, my girl." Lee gasped in and kissed you all over your head and cheeks as he held your face. "Are you ok??? Please tell me nothing is wrong. I've been out of my mind. They, they wouldn't let me stay with you and....god I love you so much, I...I don't ever want to feel that way again." Lee sobbed, his tears freely flowing.

"Heyy, shhhh. I'm here. You're here. All is right again." you whispered with compassion as you also held his face and then kissed his tears.

"I'm so sorry I scared you like that. I swear Lee, I felt ok and then all of a sudden, I didn't. I don't know what happened."

"Where's Britt? Did she tell you anything? Jo, I was so scared that you had a stroke. You couldn't speak to me. and you passed out and I drove like I never did before to get you here and..."

"Baby, try to calm down. I know what you did for me. Landy told me...and...I could still hear you Lee. Your voice is what I focused on. Britt was here yes. Obviously, it's no stroke, thank god. I'm getting my fluids with added electrolytes. I was moderately dehydrated and my blood work also showed that I have an iron deficiency."

"You're anemic? Makes sense Jo. Your diet has not been the greatest lately and then there's the blood loss from the nose bleeds. Is that....all...it is?"

"Well, of course it's my anxiety and stress too. Hence my blood pressure spike, but it's normal now. Good old Britt saying I need to reduce my stress levels and take my meds. Easier said than fucking done when she don't know how much worse they make me feel, nor does she live in my world of psychotic people. And to top that off, my mom is on the way and I'm stuck here for at least another day."

"Sorry baby. I called her earlier and left a message. I...I didn't know what was going to happ..."

"Lee, it's ok. I love you so much for taking care of me and everything else. You know you saved my life."

"If I had been alone...god, I don't even want to think about it....OR the train you tried to beat."

"Yeaaah uh that...well, I DID beat it. I had to try Jo. The rails were still lowering and I could see the train and..."

"Ok, ok, enough about trains...please. I get it though...I would have done the same for you. Love makes us crazy huh?"

"Mmmm yes it does. Come here."

Lee gave you a series of soft and short deep kisses and then moved up to sit beside you, placing his arm around you and pulling you to his chest as he kissed the top of your head.

"Welp...if you're a prisoner here for another day, so am I. You're stuck with me so don't even try to make me go, for it would be futile."

You peered up in his worrisome blues with a most critical look.

"I like being stuck with you. I don't want you to go. Ever."

"What if I have to go to the bathroom."

"You giggled and kissed him. "I guess I can allow that....and maybe to go sneak me some sugar."

"Nope. It's all liver and spinach dinners for you."

"BLECKKKK!!! Lee Pace, that's not even funny. They already brought me a tray of turkey, peas, peaches, wheat bread and...wait for it...prune juice that I haven't touched. Like...I'm pretty sure I'm not constipated....now that part IS funny."

"It was just a little bit funny to see you frown that cute ass frown that I thought I'd never see again. You know? Kind of like a prune." he chuckled. "I promise, I will make you better dinners when we blow this popsicle stand, but babes, you need to eat...for me please. Especially the juice."

"I just want to go now and lay in bed with you and eat your food. I already feel better and I have my own personal doctor...you."

"Yeah well that's the fluids giving you that boost. I don't want you here anymore than you want to be here, but I really feel it is best. I can lay in bed with you here. I'll probably take up the entire bed but you can lay on top of me."

Lee's grin was deviously adorable but quickly fell flat as your mother came bursting in with her anxiety and scarlet hair a fray.

"Josephine Leeann! What in the world happened sweetheart?? I didn't see Lee's message until in the middle of my hair appointment and I had to leave looking like this!"

"Mom...mom....calm down. I'm fine as you can see."

"You're not fine! You're in a hospital bed AGAIN! How can I calm down after what happened to Jay??"

Your heart sank. Damn your brother for doing this to all of you. DID he even know you were here? You just wanted to blurt it out that he was alive, but then she would just think that you were delusional and high on meds....and it would break her heart too. You decided that Jason would have to be the one to do that....once again.

"I know Momma. But I swear...ask Lee...I'm ok."

Lee took a moment and sat with your distraught mom, filling her in on everything, in which she then seemed to relax some after his gentle way of words. She liked Lee a lot and trusted him, especially knowing your dad had once been Lee's colleague and Jacob's pediatrician. You could see the respect in her eyes and that meant the world to you....because if Margaret March didn't like someone, they would know it.

"Thank you Lee. I tell you, my kids are going to be the death of me." she said, rolling her eyes with a soft sigh.

"MOM, don't talk like that."

"Well, YOU don't have to live with Megan anymore for one thing. All that damn smoking in the house that she thinks I don't know about and in and out at all hours of the day and night like a freaking cat. The girl can't even pick up a broom to earn her keep."

"She can sure ride one though." you snarked, making Lee lower his head to hide his smirk.

"Hilarious Joey Lee. You know, nothing's the same anymore. You're gone, Jay's gone, your dad's gone. Bo's gone and Megs only cares for number one. At least one of my sisters still comes around. Livvie was asking about you the other day. Oh, and Gerry called me about Victor too. He's not doing well. I...really want to see him...but...well anyways, I'm pretty much alone anymore."

Margaret paused. You knew she would feel guilty, like she was betraying your father all over again.

"I know Mom...but you're not alone. Our family is bigger than the state of Texas even though most are scattered all around. Olivia will always be there. I'll always be there. I'm sorry I haven't been lately though. I've just had a lot going on. I was at the house last week but you weren't home."

"Yes, I know. I found your note and your half eaten sandwich that Marmaduke was about to devour when I walked in. He needs a bath, which he hates by the way and I can't handle that big oaf. Smells like a horse's ass. What's with your car in the garage anyways?"

"Its... just temporary until..."

"Until I get my garage cleaned out and then she can store it there." Lee cut in with a hidden wink at you to save you from trying to think of something other than the truth.

"I'm so glad the two of you met Lee and that you're always there for my little girl, especially today and getting her here so quickly. It's such a bonus that you're a doctor too. Maybe you can get her to take her medicine for once so this don't happen again. Oh! I saw Amy on my way in. She says she'll be in to see you and Em is coming too. I suppose Gerry is around here somewhere. I don't know if I should go see Victor or not. I told Megan but, well you know how that went."

"I don't want her here anyways. I need to be stress free, remember?? Every time I see her face, all I want to do is..."

"Ok Josephine...don't remind me how my only daughters despise each other."

"Sorry mom. You should go see Vic. Maybe it would help him if he knows you're there? It's ok mom, to do that. I know what he means to you."

"Do...you really think it might help him? I..I mean, I really would like to go."

"Go mom. Don't put these things off. I have Lee here with me and it seems it will soon be grand central station here as well cause Britt and Orlando will be here too, so I'll be ok."

"Welllll....I....I suppose I could...just for a little bit...but I'll be back Joey. I love you." she said and came to kiss your cheek.

"Love you too Ma. If Vic is awake, tell him I hope he feels better soon and please don't tell him about me being here. He don't need to be worrying about anything."

"Come on Margaret, I'll walk you out and point you in the right direction. Be right back sweetheart." Lee sweetly smiled, then mouthed 'I love you' as he led your mom out in the hall. It made you so happy to see the growing bond they had because you knew how much he missed his own mother.

"Margaret...can I...talk to you for a moment?" Lee quietly said after he closed the door.

"Sure Lee. Is everything alright? Is there something you didn't tell me about Joey?"

"Oh no, all seems to be ok now...but...I...hmmm...I umm..."

"Lee? What is it? You seem awful nervous?"

"Whew." he softly sighed, then began. "Well, I'm sure you already know what Jo means to me. But I just wanted you to hear it from me. I love her...so very deeply and I...I had one hell of a wake up call today and it put some things into perspective. Like Jo said...don't put things off. I...I can't imagine a world without her in it, without her in mine. I just don't want to waste anymore time. But I do...want to waste it with her if that makes any sense. I guess...umm....what I am trying to say is..."

Margaret interrupted with a gasp. "Oh my...why Lee...are you....are you...asking for my daughter's hand in marriage??"

Lee stared at her blankly for a moment and then a huge smile formed on his lightly trembling lips.

"I....yes....yes I am."

@redeemer46