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boxofbonesfic · 2 months

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Title: Return to Sender [5 of 7]

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Dark! Andy Barber x Reader, Ari Levinson x Reader

Summary: Andy Barber promised he would never let you go, and come hell or high water, he's going to keep that promise.

Warnings: Dubcon/Noncon, Kidnapping, Minor Violence, Gaslighting, Basement Wife Trope, Manipulation, Stalking, Obsessive behavior, Possessive behavior, Smut, MORE TAGS TO BE ADDED

A/N: 👀 is… is anyone still there? i promised i’d update this this weekend, and i delivered. an hour before midnight, but i delivered. 😅 i know it’s been a while for this fic, but it hasn’t been forgotten about. i really hope you all enjoy this latest installment, and please don’t hesitate to let me know what you think! as always, comments are great, reblogs are golden. thank you for reading, and mind the warnings. ❤️ divider by @firefly-graphics

Where am I?

You stare blearily at the distant ceiling, dull and rusting metal beams criss-crossing over exposed brick. You reach out for Dove, and when your fingers meet empty air, your throat tightens as you remember.

Pronge walking away with your baby, and Ari—

You sit up, your fingers knotted in the thin blanket. The repurposed garage office is still and silent, the springs creaking quietly underneath you. The air smells like old motor oil, singed rubber and citrus-scented antiseptic, and it burns your nostrils. You’re almost afraid to shatter the fragile silence with the sound of your movement, but it can’t be helped as you shove your feet back into your sneakers. The office is long abandoned, the desks all pushed up against the sides of the room to make space for the bed.

The hallway is slightly better, boxes of papers and car parts lining both sides, lit by old yellow florescent bulbs that give off less light than they should. There’s a dusty, unlit neon sign that reads Gary’s Auto-body, leaning against the wall. Down the hall, you can see that the light is on in the garage proper, this one bright and brilliant white. You squint as you pass through the doorway, spots dancing in front of your eyes as they slowly adjust to the light.

In its previous life, this place had been a car mechanic’s garage, but now it serves as something like a speak-easy operating room. The car lifts have been mostly dismantled, and sitting on the concrete in the rusted outline of where they used to be are two operating tables. Ari is on one of them, speaking quietly to the man winding a length of beige bandaging around his right shoulder.

Zemo. Ari called him Zemo.

“Mouse, you’re up.” You cover your mouth with both hands to stop the surprised squeak from reaching him. Guiltily, you peer around the door frame, waiting for a reprimand that doesn’t come. The “doctor” regards you with cold, calculating eyes.

“So this is the young woman Mr. Barber is tearing the city apart to find,” he says. “How nice to finally meet you.” Andy’s name sends a cold shiver down your spine, and you clutch yourself. Zemo’s welcome feels less like kindness and more like tolerance. It makes you wonder how long you’ll be staying here.

“You know Andy?” You ask, careful to keep your face as neutral as you can manage.

Zemo scowls. “Well enough to know we do not get along.” He shakes his head, before regarding you with a cold smile. “Your husband has just as many enemies as he does friends.” Beside him, Ari sits up on the table with a pained grunt, swinging his legs over the side.

“We can trust him, Mouse.” Ari offers you a watery smile. Nervously, you step closer, skirting around the now defunct counter as you attempt to give Zemo as wide a berth as you can manage. He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, cleaning his tools with a cloth before dropping them with a loud, metallic pap into the metal tray next to the table.

“Are you okay?” You ask him in a quiet voice as you approach, fingers dancing nervously around the gauze. You shake your head, closing your eyes as you blow out an exasperated breath. “I mean, I know you’re not okay, but—” Ari places a warm hand over your own, a quiet laugh rumbling in his chest.

“I’m okay.”

“Lucky for you Pronge is a terrible shot.” Zemo quips. “He missed bone.”

“See?” Ari says, squeezing your hand tight before letting go. “I’m just fine.”

“You’re not fine. You have a six millimeter hole in you.”

“Semantics.”

“Keep activity to a minimum. I shouldn’t have to tell you this,” Zemo replies dryly. “And keep it clean, I’m not going to do it for you. This isn’t a hospital.” You watch him pack up his tools, ferrying them over to the deep sink on the other side of the room. Ari slides off of the table with a grunt, and you watch him press his lips together as he stands upright, gritting his teeth against the pain.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” Ari mutters, cutting his eyes at Zemo over his shoulder. “Six millimeters.” The doctor tosses him a worn looking cloth sling. Ari tries to fit it over his shoulder, and you rush to help him. “Thanks, Mouse.” Your cheeks warm with an uncomfortable heat. “I could have done it myself.”

“This is all my fault,” you mumble angrily, shaking your head. “I have to do something.” You step back from him, tucking your chin. He rests a warm, comforting hand on your shoulder.

“No it’s not.”

“If I—If I hadn’t—” Guilt is an achingly heavy cowl about your sagging shoulders.

“Mouse, what good is this going to do you?” The gentleness in his touch makes you flinch.

“As much as I am enjoying this conversation,” Zemo clears his throat. “I have my own wife and son to be getting back to.” You watch as he places his cleaned tools back into his bag. “Do remember what I said about your… hole.” He gestures to Ari’s injured arm with a grimace. “I’m rather keen on not amputating.”

“You and me both.” Ari says. The two of you watch as he makes his way over to the front of the shop, pulling the metal garage door up enough to slip underneath it. “What time tomorrow?”

“Noon.”

The garage door slams down hard onto the concrete, and then there is silence. You stand there awkwardly, twisting your t-shirt in your restless hands. They’re so used to holding the baby, without her sure weight in them they feel… useless.

You feel useless. Adrift.

And it isn’t just Dove—it’s everything. Despite what Ari says, you know this is your fault. He’d never have been hurt if you hadn’t been so fucking helpless. And it’s your own fault, you’d let your guard down, let Andy back inside, let him make a home inside your head, and it was your fault.

“What are you thinkin’ there, Mouse?” Ari’s voice interrupts the self-depreciating internal monologue running rampant in your head. “I hope it’s about getting some sleep, you need it.” Again, his earnestness puts you on edge. You don’t know what to do with it—it feels alien to you now, almost like you’d prefer Andy’s smug cruelty—at least then you know what to expect.

You don’t want to admit that you’re blaming yourself, thinking about all the ways you could have prevented this exact course of events just by being better.

“Yeah,” you lie. “I’m exhausted.” If anything, you’re too awake, recalling last night’s events with perfect clarity. You can’t even look at Ari as the two of you silently make your way back to the repurposed offices, shuffling along beside him as your insides squirm. You feel too much to go to sleep, so many warring desires it feels like you’re being torn apart from the inside out.

You suppose that’s one thing you sort of miss about Andy—you didn’t have to think, didn’t have to feel. He did it all for you. You arrive back at your “room”, fidgeting nervously before you cross the threshold. You don’t think you can sleep in here now, now that the adrenaline has worn off. Now that the terror has been waylaid by your other earthly concerns.

Ari notes your hesitation.

“I can stay with you util you fall asleep, if you don’t think you can.”

You duck your head, shaking it emphatically. “I should be looking after you,” you reply, shooting him a look over your shoulder. “You should, um, rest.” Ari looks around, raising an eyebrow. Oh. There’s only one other bed—and it’s current occupant is currently snoring so loud you can hear it in here.

“You sleep here, and I’ll—” You look around. “I’ll sleep in one of the rolly-chairs or something.” He laughs softly at your sudden determination.

“You know I’m not letting you sleep on chairs, Mouse.” Ari rests a hand on your shoulder. “You take the bed.”

“You got shot, Ari!” You hiss. “I-I-I can’t—”

He holds up his hands placatingly, like he can see you working yourself up. Hell, he probably can.

“Okay.” He threads the fingers of his good hand through his blond hair. “I’ll sleep on one side, you on the other. Fair?”

“Y-yes. Fair.” Your words shock the both of you, and you feel your face heat as he regards you with a look of pleasant surprise before you look down at your feet.

“You don’t have to agree if you aren’t comfortable, Mouse. You know that. I wouldn’t—”

“I know.” You grip your own forearms tightly as you speak, like you’re afraid saying the words out loud will make them untrue—like speaking the name of your demon will bring him down upon you. “You’re not Andy.”

Ari takes the left side of the bed, and the springs creak under his weight. You crawl in beside him, holding yourself as stiff as you possibly can to avoid even brushing him by accident. The truth is, you are scared—but not of Ari.

And that frightens you, too.

He’s a man, a stranger, wearing a face too similar to the one you’re running from. Now, though, when you’re brave enough to peek at him, you see Ari—not Andy. And the longer you’re here, the clearer you see him.

You lie there in the dark, your arms held painfully stiff over your chest as you search the dark with wide, glassy eyes. The ceiling is far enough above you that your brain begins to construct patterns and shapes on it’s popcorn-textured surface. Grinning faces, tall, shadowy figures—

“Mouse, are you sleeping?”

You hesitate. “…No.”

“Go to sleep.” You swallow against the thick lump in your throat, blinking back hot tears.

“It’s… It’s hard without Dove.” It’s so silent without the baby, the darkness uncomfortably quiet without the sound of her sleepy burble. She’s probably awake right now, wailing for you. You press the heels of your palms against your eyes like you’re trying to hold the tears in.

“I know.” The mattress creaks, and you feel Ari’s weight shift. The weight of your loss settles in on you, then, the crushing vacuum of your daughter’s absence sucking the air out of your lungs as you gasp for it. You can’t keep quiet anymore, your hiccoughing breaths rising in pitch until you’re sobbing, hot tears streaming down your cheeks to soak your hair and the thin pillow beneath.

“Hey, hey, come here.” Ari’s touch is hesitant. He lets his fingers linger on your shoulders before he hugs you, like he’s waiting for you to rebuke him. You don’t. Instead, you curl into his chest, your wails muffled by his body as you tangle your fingers in his over-shirt. You cry so hard it hurts, your throat raw and aching.

Ari’s hands don’t stray. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t murmur false platitudes or make promises he knows he won’t be able to keep. He just…holds you, his breath steady and heartbeat slow and even under your ear.

And then, finally, you fall asleep.

—

In the light of day, Irene looks terrible. Her left eye is swollen black and purple, a patchwork of burst blood-vessels and yellow bruises spread out over cheek. The other side of her face is not much better, the other eye open but blood red, and her nose swollen. It’s obvious she took a beating, a bad one. Still, she seems to be in higher spirits than last night as she shovels the last of her cereal into her mouth. You’re doing the same thing, hungrily crunching down the contents of your own bowl.

“We need to talk about next steps.” Irene draws the back of her hand across her mouth, her one good eye focused on you. “We need to move.”

“I’m not going anywhere without Dove.”

“That isn’t an option anymore.”

You clench your hands into fists on the table. “I’m. Not. Leaving.”

“We will figure out a way to get her back, but right now? You cannot go back to Boston, he is never going to let you go, do you understand that?” It’s like you’re speaking two different languages, talking around one another in dizzying circles. You shove yourself away from the foldout table, knocking over your plastic chair.

“I’m not fucking leaving without my daughter!” You haven’t felt like this in months, and something about it feels freeing as the hot rage pools in your chest. No, it isn’t that you haven’t felt it, you haven’t let yourself feel it. Anger was hopeless with Andy, firm and stone faced in the hurricane of your rage until you exhausted yourself, your freedom, your life still frustratingly far out of your reach.

You storm away from the table, kicking aside one of Zemo’s silver trays, and his tools skitter across the concrete. Behind you is the sound of Ari’s voice.

“I’ll talk to her.”

You don’t know where you’re going, but you know you need to be away from them. Alone. The bathroom is on the far side of the garage bay, and you slam the door behind you, your chest heaving. You can’t leave without Dove, you won’t.

You won’t abandon her.

You grip the porcelain edges of the sink hard as you blink back fresh tears. You turn on the water with a fierce jerk of the knob, and begin to rinse last night’s tears from your face. This is the cleanest room in the building, fresh towels stacked on on the shelves, and medical supplies arranged neatly in the glass cases across from the standing shower.

It’s probably the only room Zemo actually uses.

As you’re drying your face, a knock sounds at the door, and you glare at it as you huff.

“What?”

“It’s me. Can I come in?” You chew your lip.

“Fine.”

You unlatch the lock, and fold your arms across your chest as it opens. Ari peers around the door.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” You repeat, and he chuckles, stepping fully inside as the door swings shut behind him. “I’m not leaving without Dove.” You say it firmly, watching his shoulders sag with his deep sigh. “It’s not happening.”

“Mouse. Look at me.” Reluctantly, you drag your gaze from the air over his shoulder. “Your husband—”

“We’re not married.” You spit, and Ari rolls his eyes at the technicality.

“He’s dangerous, Mouse. You know that.” Ari places gentle hands on your shoulders. “You know that as soon as you step foot back in that house that he will never, ever let you go again.” Your stomach twists at his words.

“I can get out again.”

“Will you want to?” His bluntness feels like a slap across the face, and though Ari hadn’t struck you—would never—your cheeks smart anyway. You know what he’s implying—Andy scrambled your head all up inside, and half the time now you don’t know up from fucking down.

But it still hurts to know he knows. Knows how changed you are, even though he never got to see the before, just the after.

“Fuck you!” You snarl. “I am not leaving her! And if you won’t help me get her back, then I’ll—I’ll go back my fucking self!” For the first time since you’d met him, Ari actually looks angry at this, his eyes darkening beneath his furrowed brows. “If you don’t care about her—”

“I let Leah go back.” It takes you a moment to realize who he’s talking about, what he means. “I let Leah go back, and then I had to bury them both.” Ari’s hand is a pale, trembling fist on the bathroom sink. His next words are hoarse. “I didn’t know they made coffins so small.”

“Ari…”

“I care about Dove.” The words are heavy, and you hate that you know he means them. “We are going to get her back.” His eyes are shiny, but he doesn’t cry. “I fucking swear we will get her back, but you are not going to do that. Okay? You’re not.”

“You promise?” Your mouth trembles.

“I promise.” Ari wraps his pinky around yours, holding your entwined fingers up at eye level. “And you aren’t going back.”

“I-I won’t.”

“Promise.” His dark eyes burn so fiercely you want to look away. “Promise.” He repeats it firmly.

“I promise.”

And then he’s kissing you, cupping your chin with his good hand as he presses his lips desperately against your own. Your heart pounds in your ears as you go stiff in his arms. Ari breaks away, releasing you with a soft curse.

“Fuck. I’m sorry, Mouse, I—I didn’t mean to do that, I just—” For once, he’s flustered, his cheeks ruddy beneath the shadow of his beard. Ari cards his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry.”

The moment hangs between you in the air, held like a breath.

Your body stays tensed, like you’re ready to fight, or run, like it remembers Andy’s strict instructions. Except… Andy isn’t here to deliver them himself.

“It’s…” You don’t know what to say, hell, you don’t even know what you’re feeling. Everything is all mixed up, the emotions all biting the tails of the ones they’re chasing—you’re terrified, you’re exhilarated, you’re nauseous and scared and happy and—

“I’ll go. I should go.” Ari mutters the words more to himself than to you. You’re moving before you really mean to, leaning up on the tips of your toes to press a clumsy kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“I—I don’t want you to go.” With a sigh, Ari melts against you, resting his forehead against yours. You know you have done this before—many times, even just with Andy—but somehow there is a marked uncertainty as you lift your own hand to Ari’s face, stroking your thumb along his stubbled jawline. He hums, turning his face into your palm, and you feel the press of his lips.

Ari wraps his good arm around your waist, his fingers pressing into the meat of your hip through your pajama pants. His right arm flexes, his fist clenching and unclenches in the sling like he wants to move it, but he knows better. Instead, he buries his nose in your hair, the tips of his fingers creeping up beneath your t-shirt to stroke at your belly. You tense at his touch and then relax again, shivering.

“You tell me to go, I go.” Ari repeats softly, nosing down the side of your jaw. “I won’t be angry.” You look for the pool of cold dread that usually sits in your belly whenever Andy touches you, the reluctant fear that you stamp down to please him but find it entirely absent.

“You don’t have to make me happy, you don’t have to do what I want because I want it.” You have to stand on the tips of your toes to wrap your arms around Ari’s broad shoulders. There is undeniable excitement uncurling in your belly, warmth skipping under your skin at his touch. You want Ari to touch you.

“What if… it would make me happy?”

Ari huffs out a breathy laugh, his lips curving against your own. “That’s all I seem to want to do.” He takes your mouth again with a fervor that leaves you pleasantly breathless. Ari tangles his fingers in the curls at the nape of your neck, holding you still. His teeth tug at the weight of your lower lip and you gasp, opening for him. Ari tastes faintly of cinnamon sugar and something distinctly him that makes you shiver.

“Been wanting to do that for a goddamn week.” He sighs the words against your mouth. He smooths his hand down the back of your neck, tracing a gentle finger along the length of your spine. You don’t know you’re holding your breath until you release is as his palm skirts over the curve of your ass. He chuckles. “Is this okay?”

“Y-yes.” Ari palms your ass in response and you gasp, tangling your fingers in his over-shirt. It feels strange to be asked what you want, to even consider your own feelings as worth listening to. Andy tells you what to want, what to think, how to feel—Ari simply…allows you to be. Just as you are.

“I wanna touch you, Mouse,” he breathes. The admission sends a sharp bolt of electricity straight down your spine. “Can I?” You can’t avoid his eyes anymore, reluctantly meeting his gaze with your own. The words stick in your throat.

“You have to tell me, Mouse.” He strokes your trembling chin with the pad of his thumb. “I’m not him.”Andy always played at giving you choice, but you know Ari isn’t. That if you tell him to, he’ll walk away, and he won’t punish you for it.

You close your eyes hard, pressing the lids shut till they hurt. You don’t want to think about Andy right now, don’t want to think about Dove without you—you just want this. It feels like you have to reach down your own throat to find it, pulling your own voice up and out through your mouth with force.

“Please?”

Ari groans, plunging his hand into your loose sleep-pants to wrap around your thighs. He’s strong enough to lift you one-armed as you adjust. You wrap your legs around his waist as a reflex and he hums approvingly, his fingers sinking into the meat of your hips.

The hard planes of his body press against yours, and your face heats as you think of the new weight that has settled around your hips and belly, but Ari does not seem to notice its presence, his fingers skimming appreciatively along your skin. You can feel the bulge of his cock pressing against your core, and the breathy, surprised noise you make in the back of your throat at the feel of it prompts a chuckle.

Ari grips your hip hard as he takes a few long strides backwards until you feel cool tile beneath your back. He holds you there, pinned comfortably between his body and the wall as he grinds into you. He ruts against you with a groan. The thin, stretchy fabric between you offers little protection, considering, you can practically feel him throbbing through his zipper.

“See, Mouse?” He says lowly. “All for you.” Ari releases you, and your feet have barely touched down on the tile before he’s pulling at the hem of your t-shirt.

“Let’s take this off.” You nod, tugging it up over your head breathlessly, unaware of where it lands after Ari tugs it from your fingers. He drops to his knees, hooking a finger under the elastic band holding up your pajamas. You tense, remembering the last person who had been between your legs, but Ari grounds you, his lips brushing over the curve of your hip.

“Don’t.” His mouth moves softly against your skin. “Stay here. With me, right now. Don’t go anywhere else.” Ari peels the layers of clothing back from your skin, his hands roaming hungrily over each newly revealed inch. You step out of them and then quickly scoot off your socks. Ari looks up at you from between your thighs, making hard, heavy eye contact as he places a hand beneath your knee.

“Can I do this for you, Sweetheart? Can I make you feel good?” God, you want to let him. Everything’s out of you control—Andy, Dove, your whole life, but this? This is yours. This, you get to choose.

“Yes.” Even the act of consent feels unfamiliar. “I—I want to.” You don’t know how to describe the way you see the relief leave his body, his broad shoulders relaxing as he widens your stance, pushing your thighs apart till he can kneel between them properly. He squeezes the back of your thigh reassuringly before slowly lifting it to rest on his good shoulder. Ari holds your gaze as he leans forward to place a kiss on the chubby curve of your vulva through your cotton panties.

His mouth is warm and soft—reverent as he mouths at your swelling lips through the fabric. Ari strokes your hip as he catches the fabric with his teeth, before pulling it aside to marvel at your bare pussy. You want to look away but you don’t, your mouth dropping open as he delivers a sloppy kiss against your slick folds.

“O-oh,” the sound falls from your lips unbidden, and you feel his mouth curve against you. He pauses briefly to shrug out of his flannel, and dimly you are aware of the sound of his zipper before he’s back, his face thrust hard into the soaking place between your thighs. You mumble his name.

“Ari, Ari, Ari—”

He rolls the pearl of your clit against the roof of his mouth, circling your entrance with one finger. You press your head back against the tile, staring unseeingly at the ceiling. You do not remember threading your fingers through his hair, but as you tighten them, tugging, he moans, throaty and low. When you chance a look down, Ari is staring at you with lidded eyes. He flicks your clit sharply with the tip of his tongue, humming appreciatively as you jackknife.

“Go ahead and cum, Mouse,” he murmurs the words against your slick, twitching skin. “It’s okay, Sweetheart, I know you need it.” One hand remains buried in Ari’s hair, tugging on it helplessly as the other scrabbles for purchase against the tile, looking for something—anything—to hold onto. You push against the hot water knob, and the pipes rattle as water rockets through them. You are tangentially aware of the spray of warm water from the shower head—but only barely. You whine helplessly, hips rolling against Ari’s face as you cum.

He presses the tip of his finger into your cunt, groaning at the feel of you, wet and swollen and sucking at him. He gently lowers your leg, and your trembling knees nearly buckle. You watch as Ari wraps his fist around his cock, pumping it slowly as he stares at the sticky, messy spot at the apex of your thighs. It’s thick, veiny like his forearms. He sweeps his thumb across the tip, spreading the dewy drop of precum gathered there.

Ari stands, fishing his wallet out of his back pocket. From inside, he produces a wrinkled—but sealed—condom. He tears into the packet with his teeth before discarding it. He fumbles with one hand, nearly dropping it, but you help, gingerly pulling the condom from his fingers. Ari stands stock still as you roll it slowly down to the base before he grasps your chin, his mouth crashing against yours. You can taste yourself on his tongue.

This time when he lifts you, he uses the wall to leverage your weight, sinking you down slow as you lock your ankles behind his waist. Ari’s head lolls, his lips parting in a silent “o” as he draws his hips back, and then fully sheathes himself inside. The air in your lungs escapes in a sharp, needy whine.

“F-full.” You don’t even realize you’ve said it until Ari hums in agreement.

“Feels good, doesn’t it Mouse?” He breathes. “Shit, you’re squeezing me so nice,” he breathes, drawing back until your cunt is sicking at the tip of him before driving all the way back inside. You manage a nod, your hips rolling greedily into his.

“I-I—fuck—again—” The words don’t want to leave your tongue in any sort of sensible manner, but Ari understands them, grinning hungrily as he picks up the pace. He skims your clit with his thumb, and you can feel the sparks skittering up your spine and you gasp as he does it again and again—

“Come on, Sweetheart, you’ve got one more in there for me, don’t you?” He mutters, angling his hips up into yours as you writhe against him. “Wanna feel it on my cock—mmm, fuck—” You do, leaning forward to bury your face against his chest as you wail, your cunt clamping down around him like a fist. Ari curls his massive body over yours as he empties into you, his hips pressing softly against yours. He holds you there, his cock jerking and throbbing inside of you as he mumbles soft ‘mm’’s and ‘yeah, fuck yeah’’s into your hair until he’s done.

You stay like that, your body buzzing as the warm water streaming down over you. Eventually, when you can no longer feel the hammer of his heart against your cheek, he pulls out, and you press your lips together in embarrassed amusement at the crinkle of latex. He knots it off before tossing it into the trash bin. Your cheeks burn as Ari cleans between your legs, cupping your swollen cunt with an appreciative hum. He slides his fingers through the folds of your sticky sex, and your breath hitches.

“I’m just cleaning you up, Mouse, I promise.” He’s true to his word, there’s hungry, lustful intensity in his touches, only care. You str heady yourself against his shoulder, and your heart drops at the sight of his bandages. The center is tinged with a pink circle, and as you stare at it, it darkens a little.

“You’re bleeding.” Ari looks down at his shoulder and grimaces.

“Occupational hazard, Mouse. I’ll be fine.” He attempts to reassure you with a smile, but it doesn’t completely do away with the cold feeling in your belly.

“We’re going to need to change these, at least,” you say, fingering the edge of his wet bandage. “I think Zemo will be mad if we don’t.”

“He’s always mad.” Ari replies, and you laugh. “But yes. We’ll change them”

It somehow feels more intimate to stand there in the shower with Ari, slowly washing off the events of the last day and a half. He shampoos your hair, rubbing it in gently at the roots with the tips of his fingers. When you’re finally done, he helps you towel off, before producing a generic grey sweatshirt and pants from one of the cupboards after a bit of rummaging.

When the two of you return to the garage, dewy cheeked and differently clothed, Irene snorts.

“Had a good time, did you?”

—

Dove won’t stop crying.

Andy isn’t a bad father, he knows he’s not, but for some reason, he can’t get her calmed down. Her little fists are clenched tight, beating the air above her head with a frustration Andy as her father, cannot seem to quell. He bounces his daughter tiredly as he paces around the nursery, mumbling soothing baby speak as he rubs circles on her back.

She’s been wailing practically nonstop since Pronge had delivered her, his expression grim as he’d handed her over.

I couldn’t get your wife.

Andy had wanted to rage, then, and he almost had, itching to slam the whiskey glass in his hand into Robert’s face for the trouble—but Dove’s fussing had provided a sufficient reminder that it might not be appropriate to do so. She cries herself to sleep, hiccoughing in his arms until her breathing evens. Andy carefully lays her down in the crib, stroking his hand over the curve of her cheek. He closes the door to the nursery, and to his disgust, Robert Pronge stands in the hallway, the decanter of whiskey from his office held in his hand. He takes a swig from it.

“Who else was with her?”

Pronge grimaces. “Irene. And her new assistant. Fucker’s as big as a goddamn house. Name’s Ari Levinson, he owns some shithole bar.” Andy’s eyes narrow.

“Get out.” He shoulders past the killer in his hallway, not bothering to take back the bottle.

“And do what, exactly?” He sneers.

“Finish your goddamn job, and find my wife.” Andy waits to hear the sound of the front door before returning to his office. He’d had you—and you’d slipped right through his fingers again. You wouldn’t want to be apart from Dove, at least, that much he could be sure of. You’re a good mother, regardless of the doubts he knows he’ll have to plant in your beautiful head to get you to stay.

Ari Levinson.

The name is unfamiliar, and a search through both Massachusetts and New York state databases return no results. He does, however, get pings on basic search engines.

Ari Levinson. Dishonorable discharge, tried for murder, dismissed as self defense.

Now that is interesting.

It’s after midnight when he finally decides to turn in for the night, and as he closes his office door, he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He reaches for it, frowning at the unfamiliar number—but then his eyes widen at the caller I.D.

Albany.

“Hello?” At first, there’s only grainy silence on the other end, until finally, you speak.

“I’m ready to talk, Andy.”

He smiles. “Oh, Honey. I knew you would be.”

to be continued…

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Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

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basqueneskak · 3 months

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+400 celebrities have signed that sh*t of an open letter to keep Israel in the Eurovision Song Contest 2024 using Zionist arguments and not a single mention to Gazan people.

Some of the most well-known signers are: Helen Mirren (Actress) Liev Schreiber (Actor) Boy George (Artist) Gene Simmons (Artist/Co-founder KISS & multi-hyphenate businessman) Mayim Bialik (Actress) Julianna Margulies (Actor/Producer/Author) Emmy Rossum (Actress) Debra Messing (Actress) Ginnifer Goodwin (Actress) Scooter Braun (Founder/CEO, Hybe America) Selma Blair (Actress) Gregg Sulkin (Actor) Skylar Astin (Actor) Julie Greenwald (Chairperson & CEO, Atlantic Records Group) Jody Gerson (Chairperson and CEO, Universal Music Publishing Group) Aaron Bay-Schuck (CEO/Co-Chairman Warner Records) Dan Rosen (President, Warner Music Australasia); Joshua Malina (Actor) Patricia Heaton (Actress and Producer) Jennifer Jason Leigh (Actress) Tom Arnold (Actor) Tracy-Ann Oberman (Actress) Sharon Osbourne (Manager, TV Personality) Tom Rothman (Chairman, Columbia Pictures) Diane Warren (Songwriter) Ynon Kreiz (Chairman and CEO, Mattel, Inc.) Gary Barber (Chairman and CEO, Spyglass Media Group) Jacqueline Saturn (President, Virgin Music) Emmanuelle Chriqui (Actress) Samantha Ronson (Artist) Odeya Rush (Actress)

Do what you will with this info.

#signal boost #free palestine #anti zionisim #esc 2024 #boycott israel #and its zionist supporters #reblog to spread awareness

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rebelrayne · 11 months

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he's back......

what my husband thinks of the season six male islanders with little to no information

aka he based it on their profile in the game. under the cut because it's long.

jamal

black tony hawk. he looks like he's cooking up some drama. obviously hasn't learned to button up his shirt. i don't see how he would have had a threesome cause he doesn't even look like he could have a twosome. small bulge. he has glossy lips. i'm done with him, he's kind of boring.

lewie

his combover looks stupid. did he paint on his five o'clock shadow? semi-pro? what's that mean? he's a fucking weekend warrior? "golden retriever energy" aka he has bad hips. his body just looks gross. it's all elongated and shit... his ears don't match his fucking face. he's got chicken ass legs to be playing football (soccer). he probably cries when he has sex. who the fuck names their kid lewie? he's the kmart version of gary. he looks like he's poor. probably gets drunk off two white claws. his mouth fucking irritates me. it's like he has an asshole for a mouth. show me his picture again - ugh just look at how fucking ugly he is. his personality probably matches his looks.

also was told to attach this meme curtesy of my husband's mind:

ozzy

what the fuck does he tell his barber? like 'keep it long in the front but cut everything else i want no hair on any other parts of my body'. at least he's proportional (unlike lewie). seems like the kind of guy that would invite a girl over to hang out then breaks out a fucking bong. and then gets stoned off his ass. i've never seen that color nipple before. his jaw is the shape of a rhombus. his puppy dog eyes don't work on me. what kind of dancer is he (🤨)? because if he's an erotic dancer, he only works day shift because he's not good enough for night shift.

roberto

he actually looks kind of cool. i don't like the way he holds himself though. he looks like he could be a pirate - he looks like johnny depp. does he have to take his watch everywhere? like that citizen watch doesn't mean you have money, bro.

ryan

he looks like frodo baggins. "we have to save the shire!" probably has some hairy ass feet. he's literally trapped in the body of a 12-year-old and looks like he's 4'10". he's a singer? what's he sing? hobbit songs? where did he buy his shorts? the fucking youth section? (tries to zoom in, gets annoyed he can't). is definitely the one that is going to try to talk mc and amelia into having a threesome - then makes them compete for who's better.

#litg double trouble #litg dt #litg jamal #litg lewie #litg roberto #litg ryan #litg ozzy #he hates lewie #gary mf wannabe

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intersectionalpraxis · 3 months

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The current CEO of Mattel has said he is proud of his "Israeli heritage." This was from an article I posted a while ago, and I just saw that someone had re-blogged my post with their commentary -about how it is borderline antisemitic to call someone a zionist because they are proud of their Jewish identity... which, I am incredibly confused by because the post said NOTHING about his religion, and was more of a call out of the fact that he takes PRIDE in having grown up in a space where the IOF has and continues to systematically oppress Palestinian people -and for the past few months have massively accelerated a genocide, while continuing to commit heinous war crimes (like bombing hospitals and murdering journalists and their families), and regularly/routinely dehumanizing and torturing Palestinian people for simply existing and resisting the occupation.

I need some of these people to get a grip, because there are many anti-zionist Jewish people all around the world saying the occupation must end and that Palestine must be free -there are even a few who have revoked their 'Israeli' citizenship because they know that the entire state has been built through systematic violence. Being critical of anyone 'proud' to be from a settler country that has and continues to commit genocide against an Indigenous population should be something we're ALWAYS calling out.

Someone also posted this in a huge thread of information -where the CEO of Mattel, Ynon Kreiz co-signed this statement, so THERE you go:

"Spyglass Media Group founder Gary Barber, Mattel CEO Ynon Kreiz and a group of other leaders in the entertainment industry denounced the “brutal attacks” by Hamas in Israel in a joint statement Thursday received exclusively by TheWrap." “We denounce the brutal attacks by Hamas in Israel. These atrocities will have a devastating impact on future generations,” the statement read. “We unequivocally stand in solidarity with Israel in the global fight against terrorism. Am Yisrael Chai.”

#social justice #free palestine #palestine #freepalastine🇵🇸#settler violence #settler colonialism #the zionist entity #zionism #zionist occupation #end the genocide #end the occupation #ceasefire now #barbie #mattel

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myveryownfanfiction · 7 months

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18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

chapter 1

tags: @itzjustalexxx, @illiana-mystery, @onedirectionlovers2014, @eclecticwildflowers

warnings: swearing, drinking, era accurate sexism and misogyny

Ace had wanted to know what was in my camping gear but I had managed to distract him enough by saying it was just a tent and stuff for a fire. He had wanted to sell it, get me a little bit more money but after I had nearly screamed at him he backed off. I had to tell him that it had sentimental family value. He clearly didn’t buy it but he let it go. After he helped me move in, I didn’t see much of him outside of his weekly trips to the auto store and in passing when I was at the apartment.

“you have the money for rent?” Ace asked one night as I was coming back in from work. I nodded and followed him to the office.

“can I give you money for next month too?” I asked as I dug the money out from my bag.

“sure.” Ace shrugged. “What for?” I ran my fingers through the back of my hair and frowned at him. “Oh. Right. Uh billy can do it for free. If you want. He does all ours.”

“I appreciate it ace but…” ace smirked at me. “What?”

“do you have any idea what to ask for when you go to a barber? Or what you’re going to do when they question the lack of five o’clock shadow?” Ace asked, leaning back in his chair. I tensed up slightly and frowned. “That’s what I thought. Billy won’t ask questions. Talk to him.” I nodded and handed over the money. “Still paying for two months?”

“yeah. Figure I can get some more clothes while I’m at it.” Ace frowned and scanned my attire. “I’ve worn through the knees of three fucking pairs of pants ace. And don’t you dare make the damn joke.” I pointed a finger at him when ace started to smile. He held his hands up in defense. “Figure I can either buy a couple more expensive pairs that will last longer or I could buy a few more.” Ace pulled out a pen and paper before scribbling something down.

“they got the pants you need.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “I shop there. And you see what we do all day.” Ace waved a hand out to the main floor of the shop. I nodded and took the paper. “You know what size you need?” I nodded again.

“one of the few things I get.” I responded as I stuck the paper in my back-pocket.

“anything else you need?” Ace asked. I shook my head.

“I think I’m good. Thanks ace.” I said as I waved before leaving the office. After dropping my stuff off at the apartment, I went over to the shop ace had recommended. Shopping there was easy and the older man behind the counter ensured that they would last longer than the stuff I was currently buying. Going back to work, I greatly appreciated the new pants as they were a lot easier on my knees while I was stocking.

“looks like you have some admirers.” Gary snickered a few days later. I turned to look at him with furrowed eyebrows. He pointed towards the front of the store where a group of girls were standing and whispering amongst themselves. I raised an eyebrow and shook my head.

“what would they want to admire me for?” I mumbled as I went back to the task at hand. Gary laughed and patted me on the shoulder as he went into his office in the back. I kept sneaking glances at the main girl who was staring at me. Every time I caught her, she started giggling and looked away. I bit my lip and flushed as I tried to focus again. “alright. Alright. Move along girls. He’s not interested in high schoolers.” Ace said, his voice oddly breathy. When the girls didn’t move, he pushed open the door and called in. “Hey (Y/B/N) want to go grab a drink when you get off work? At the rock?” The girls groaned and dispersed. Everyone in town knew you could go to irbys for underage drinking. If you went to the rock, it was strictly for adults. I looked over at ace with a grateful smile that quickly fell when I noticed he was trying incredibly hard not to laugh.

“oh laugh it up asshole.” I said, throwing some box packing in his general direction. Ace finally let himself laugh as he walked through the store.

“Honestly though. Do you want to grab a drink?” Ace asked as he shopped. “I got a few things I wanna ask you.”

“Sure. I get off in two hours.” I said as I stood up with a groan. Aces head poked out from the end of the aisle I was working next to. I laughed at his expression and gently shoved his shoulder. “Shut up. I’m not as young as I used to be.” Ace laughed and walked out to stand next to me.

“don’t I know it.” He agreed. “How old are you anyway?” I smirked and walked over to the counter.

“Trying to get me to buy the round?” I asked with a laugh. Ace shrugged with a smile. “I’m twenty.” Ace nodded.

“me too.” He smirked at me as he leaned on the counter. “Looks like we’re going to irbys then.” I nodded. “I need to place three orders for paint. And uh,” ace looked over his shoulder at the stock. “I also need a new dipstick, two cases of oil and a case of washer fluid.” I nodded and pulled out the paint orders. “Actually make that three cases of oil.”

“paint or goods first?” I asked. Ace drummed his fingers.

“paint. Might take you a bit to grab the cases.” I rolled my eyes and leaned closer to him.

“look just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean…” ace smiled at me.

“I never said you couldn’t. I just said it might take a minute.” Ace tapped my hand and raised his eyebrows. “And tell Gary you’re helping me take it over to the shop. Eyeball called in sick and we’re a little overrun right now. Charlie and billy are having a hard time keeping focus.” I laughed and filled out the paint request forms.

“sounds like you get some pretty nice cars in your shop.” I mentioned as I grabbed a rolling cart and pushed it into the back. Ace nodded as I started to load up the cart with the four cases he needed. Wheeling it out front, I saw ace had grabbed a dipstick from the store.

“sometimes.” Ace agreed. “Mostly we get the beat up hunks of crap that no one cares about. Things is in this town, no one takes care of their shit. Everything’s run down. From the shops to the houses to the cars.” I rang ace up with a nod.

“I understand that.” I sighed. “Right let me go talk to Gary quick.” Running into the back, I knocked on Gary’s office door. “Sir? Ace Merrill is in and he needs some help taking his purchases back to the garage. Asked me if I could spare a minute to do it.” Gary waved his hand at me.

“whatever makes that little shit happy.” Gary said. “When you get back, see me for your paycheck and clock out. No need to keep you round today.” I nodded and left the office.

“I’m all yours.” I said. “Just need to grab my paycheck when we’re done and I’m free for whatever.” Ace has already balanced two boxes in his arms and nodded at me over top of them.

“here.” He said as he handed them off to me. “Easier to do that than pick them up.” Ace did just that with a grunt and started walking out the door. I followed him and over to the garage next door. “Office.” Ace groaned as billy and Charlie ran over to grab the boxes from us. I leaned back with my hands pressed against my spine once Charlie ran off with my set of boxes. “Meet you back here in five?” I nodded and headed back to the auto store. Gary paid me and I grabbed my stuff before walking back over. Ace was waiting out front while Charlie locked up. Billy was no where to be seen.

“see ya Monday ace.” Charlie called as he took off down the road. Ace raised a hand in parting before turning to me.

“you know how to drive?” Ace asked. I nodded. “Good. Get us there.” He tossed his car keys at me and walked around the back of the building. I looked at the keys in my hand before running to catch up with him. I took one look at the car and started panicking. Ace gave me a look before I slid into the drivers seat.

“Uh ace?” I said softly, staring at the steering wheel. He grunted in response and I bit my lip. “It’s been a while. And I…” ace raised an eyebrow.

“like riding a bike. Let’s go.” I shook my head. He sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Alright. Fine. I’ll drive. Get out.” I got out and swapped seats with him before we took off down the street. I tried to pay attention to what he was doing so if he asked me again, I’d know what to do. Ace parked behind irbys and got out. He was almost through the back door by the time that I was out of the car. “You buy the first round.”

“only if you rake ‘em up.” I said as I spotted an open pool table. Ace agreed and I went up to the bar to place our order.

#ace merrill fanfiction #ace merrill fanfic #ace merrill imagine #ace merrill x reader #ace merrill #kiefer sutherland fan fiction #kiefer sutherland #kiefer sutherland fanfiction #kiefer sutherland fanfic #kiefer sutherland x reader #ace of hearts #ace of hearts series

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holylulusworld · 1 year

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His mistake

Summary: Jealousy doesn’t suit him.

Pairing: Ex!Andy Barber x Ex!wife Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of a divorce/breakup, jealous Andy, strong-headed reader, fighting, bad behaviour in front of kids, daddy Andy

Divider by @firefly-graphics

The room is filled with music, happy voices, and the laughter of children. Still, Andy cannot smile or be happy. Not even at his twin’s birthday.

He’s looking your way, inhaling sharply as a man tries to chat you up. Andy knows he’s got no right to be jealous. It was him telling you things won’t work out, and that he wants to try getting back with his ex to raise their son together.

That was, of course, before he got to know that you are having his baby. Andy believed you are not ready to have a family with him. Now he knows better.

After he realized his mistake, and things didn’t work out with Laurie, he tried to win you over again. But stubborn as you are, he didn’t get a second chance. You won’t let him fool you again.

Now, three years later he can only stand on the sideline while you chuckle at something the man said. You smile softly and offer a slice of cake to one of the single dads at the birthday party of your children.

“This is a birthday party for kids,” Andy mutters under his breath. He looks your way again, sighs, and looks away.

Andy closes his eyes for a moment to get the images of you with some other guy out of his head, but the anger won’t fade. No. There is this angry little man in his head telling him to go over there and get you back.

Your voice, so soft, fills his ears as you talk to the man. Andy cannot help it. He watches you and that stranger talk. He clenches his jaw and swallows thickly as you finally look his way.

“You okay over there?” one of your neighbors asks Andy. “You look like you are about to rip someone’s head off.” He chuckles. “Ah, I see. You finally know what I’m talking about when I see my ex with her new boy toy. Now that the twins are getting older, your wife will go back to dating.”

“Not now, Gary,” Andy grits out. You turned around to talk to another man, and now, his blood is boiling. If Andy doesn’t watch out, he’ll break the phone in his hands into two halves.

“I’m telling you, man, it’s hard. Imagine she fucks one of those suburban dads,” Gary shudders. “Your ex is a beautiful and sexy woman. No wonder all of them are lusting over here. Everyone but me. I respect you too much, Andy.”

“Thanks, I guess,” your ex-husband huffs. It’s worse enough he must watch random guys hit on you. Now your neighbor wants to give him advice on coping with the unavoidable.

“Daddy!!! DADDY!” your twins run toward their father. He chuckles and picks them up, still, his eyes are glued to you and the next father chatting you up. You look like a queen bee surrounded by drones wanting to impress you. “We want cake! We want cake!”

“How about we go over there and ask your mom for some cake?” Andy smirks. He knows you won’t ignore your children.

“Mommy!” Andy Jacob calls for you. He whines as you take too long for his liking. “Mommy,” your daughter joins her brother. She’s calling for you, holding out one chubby hand.

“Aw, my babies,” you leave the man’s side, promising to talk to them later. “Look at you two.” You coo. “You have grown so much.”

“Mommy, we want cake,” your son sniffles. “Can we eat cake with daddy and you? Please. I wanna have some cake.”

“You’ll get some cake, Babyboy,” you gently run one hand over your son’s head. “If your daddy wants to join us, he’s welcome to sit at our special table.”

“The birthday table,” your daughter happily babbles. She cups Andy’s face and looks up at him with doe eyes. “Daddy, will you make us pancakes in the morning? Please?”

“Your dad needs to work tomorrow,” you softly say. “He doesn’t have the time to make us breakfast. Your daddy has a lot on his plate.”

“My family is more important than work,” Andy grumbles as you walk toward the table. “I told you so more than once.”

“Says the man who never makes it to a doctor’s appointment or a play date with their friends. It’s a wonder you came in time to celebrate their third birthday. Work always comes first to you.”

You help your twin sit on the chairs before you pull your ex-husband aside. You don’t want your children to hear their parents fight.

“It’s all I got left,” he doesn’t want to argue today. It’s partially true. After Laurie and he didn’t work out, and you refused to take him back, all he got left was his career. “I only get to see them when it’s my weekend. You won’t let me…”

“Do you really want to fight right now, Andy?” you give him a warning glare. “If I may remind you, this is all your fault. You left me for your ex and filed for divorce. I wanted nothing more than having a family with you.”

“Every time we fight you bring Laurie up again,” Andy grits out. “I tried anything to make you see that I only love you, and the kids. It was a stupid mistake. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but don’t act like you only think about our children while you shamelessly flirt with all the dads at our babies' birthday party.”

“How dare you!” you wrap your hand around Andy’s wrist to drag him out of the living room. “I was simply talking to our guests. And yes, they were all men. I’m sorry if you feel threatened by men being nice to me.”

“You almost pounced on one of them,” he bites back. All damns break and Andy can’t stop the words before he spats them at you.

“I’m a woman and didn’t have sex for the better of three years as I was busy raising our children alone,” you yell. “Excuse me if I have needs too. Maybe I want to feel desired after giving birth to our twins.”

“I told you that I want to do more. You won’t let me,” he argues. “I’m telling you all the time that you look beautiful, and that you are the only woman I want.”

“Why did you leave me for your ex then?” you cock your head. “Huh? Cat got your tongue Mr. Super-lawyer.”

“Y/N, can we just not fight right now?”

“You started this,” you talk about. You sigh and cover your eyes with one hand.

“Listen…I’m sorry. Can we go out there, eat cake and act like you don’t hate me?” Andy asks. “Please.”

“Give me a minute,” you sniff.

Andy reluctantly leaves you alone as you take a few deep breaths. You will go back to the birthday party, make your kids happy, and pretend he didn’t just hurt you all over again…

Tags in reblog.

#andy barber #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy x reader #defending jacob #His mistake

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dickfuckk · 1 year

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A list of season 2 cast and crew members, confirmed and speculated

I will try and keep this updated

Not counting the obvious ones

Please note that this is a list of both cast and crew members, so PAs and such are also included and not just actors

Also if you're interested: on my bts instagram I only follow people who have worked on season 1, and people I suspect worked on season 2. So feel free to go through the list of people I follow if you're into that

Aaron Morton (Camera) - he’s listed on the very last picture as the camera-man

Adam Stein(Writer)

Alan F. (English solider)

Alexandria S.

Alison Telford (Casting)

Alistair Gregory - from this tweet so uncertain, but followed me back on my bts instagram account so seems to have some interest in ofmd

Amy Barber (Sound department)

Amy Tunnicliffe

Amanda Grace Leo

Amanda M. (Wedding guest)

Andrea Basile (Costume)

Andres Gomez Zamora (Visual effects)

Andrew DeYoung (Director) - I don’t remember if there was any other reason than the fact that he was in Aotearoa during filming

Andy McLaren (senior art director)

Andy Rydzewksi (Cinematographer)

Angelina Faulkner (Sound department)

Blair Nicholson (Camera)

Blair Teesdale (Camera)

Brad Coleman (Visual effects)

Brad McLeod (Special effects)

Brian Badie (Hairstylist)

Bronson Pinchot (“Torturer”)

Bryn Seager - I don’t remember why but I follow him

Bryony Matthew (Food stylist)

Caleb Staines (Camera)

Chantel Partamian (Visual effects)

Colin Elms (Art department)

Colin Rogers (Sound department)

Cora Montalban (Makeup and/or hairstylist) - I believe she was tagged in an instagram story once, and she’s followed by a ton of cast and crew members

Corrin Ellingford (Sound department)

Corey Moana (Camera)

Corry Greig (Art department)

Coti Herrera (Prosthetics/Makeup)

Damian Del Borrello (Sound department)

Daniel Fernandez (Spanish priest)

Danica Duan (Assistan accountant)

David Boden (production manager)

David G. (Stand in)

David Rowell (Financial controller)

David Van Dyke (Visual effects)

Dennis Bailey (Hairstylist)- Leslie revealed that he’s there.

Dion Anderson (Rescue diver)

Don A. (Swampy Town folk)

Donna Pearman (Assistant accountant)

Donna Marinkovich (set decorator)

Doug McFarlene (Pirate)

Duncan Nairn (Visual effects)

Eliza Cossio (Writer)

Erroll Shand (Prince Ricky)

Esther Mitchell (Camera)

Fernando Frias (Director)

Gareth Van Niekerk (Sound department)

Gary Archer (dental prosthetics)

Gemma Campbell (Visual effects)

Grant Lobban

Greg Sager (Safety manager)

Gregor Harris (Camera)

Gregory J. Pawlik Jr. (AD)

Gypsy Taylor (Costume designer)

Haroun Barazanchi (Set designer)

Harry Ashby (AD)

Helene Wong (Voice work)

I-J

Jacob Tomuri (Stunts)

Jaden McLeod

James Crosthwaite (Set decorator)

Jamie Couper (Camera)

Jason Samoa, possibly spotted on location

Jemaine Clement, pretty sure this is only based on his friendship with Rhys and Taika tbh

Jes Tom (Writer)

Jessica Lee Hunt (Makeup artist) - followed by a ton of crew and cast members and I believe she’s been tagged in instagram stories and such

John Mahone (Writer)

Jonathan Bruce (Sound department)

Jono Capel-Baker (Groom)

Jonno Roberts didn’t get the role from his audition, but could still have gotten a different role - hung out with Ruibo

Judah Getz (Sound department)

Julia Huberman (Sound department)

Julia Thompson (Costume)

Justin Benn (Republic of Pirates Town)

Karl L. (Action extra)

Kate Fu

Kate Leonard (Casting)

Kathleen Zyka Smith (“Red Flag”)

Kosuke Iijima (Fabricator/Sculptor?) - due to interaction on this post

Kris Gillan (Fabricator/Sculptor)

Kura Forrester - followed by quite a few cast and crew members, but I don’t remember if there was anything else to it

Laura Stables (SFX makeup artist)

Leanne Evans (Art department)

Lee Tuson

Leslie Jones (Spanish Jackie) - she’s spoiled this so many times, but gjfhdks

Leyla - followed by a lot of cast and crew members, don’t remember if there was more to it than that

Lindsey Cantrell (Set decorator)

Louis Flavell Birch (Blue coat)

Luke V. (Stand in)

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd 2 #ofmd speculation #ofmd spoilers

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abbatoirablaze · 7 months

Text

Ex Wive's Club, Chapter 26

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: angst, mentions of abuse.

“She’s an unfit mother, your honor,” Andy growled as he glared at his soon to be ex-wife, “she has postpartum and hasn’t been taking any medication for it since the birth of our second child. She had abandoned our first child for the first few years of his life and put our second child through dozens of needless and invasive tests!”

“Do you have proof of this, Mr. Barber?”

Andy frowned, unhappy that the judge wasn’t just taking his side, “Gary, you know-“

“Mr. Barber, I took the case because numerous other judges recused themselves on personal grounds. A lot of us know you and your wife, but I’m going to remind you that this is an impartial case where accusations have to have foundations,” the judge reminded him, “you as well as anyone should know that wild accusations only hurt those involved. So unless you have physical proof-“

“After she gave birth to our son, she moved to Massachusetts to go to MIT!”

“Your evidence is that your wife went to school?”

Andy’s frown deepened, “Gary-“

“Mr. Barber…I will not remind you again.”

He huffed before standing beside his desk, “your honor. My wife and I were engaged when my son was born. She returned the ring to me and left. I then proceeded to see someone else. Someone who I was engaged to after her, who was going to legally adopt my son as Sasha was in the process of giving up all parental rights for him.”

“And was this process ever completed?” the judge asked, “Was the paperwork ever filed with the courts?”

Andy’s jaw twitched, and he shook his head, “no your honor.”

“Then where is your proof that she abandoned your son?” he asked, “because to me, it’s a mother who wanted to further her education. The two of you ended her relationship, but it just sounds like an undocumented agreement where you had sole custody of your son during that time.”

“She’s been diagnosed with postpartum. She was on medication after our son was born.”

“As many women are.”

Andy was quickly losing his patience with the judge.

He’d half expected the judge to make a personal decision and give Andy the sole custody of the kids.

And while his more logical side had known that wasn’t going to happen, it was a hope that he’d kept in the back of his mind, nonetheless.

“Mrs. Barber?”

Sasha stood nervously at her lawyer’s insistence, “Yes your honor?”

“Do you have any reason to think why your husband is making these accusations of you abandoning your children and putting them through needless medical procedures?”

“He believes I was cheating on him, your honor,” she admitted softly, “he kicked me out of our shared home, and-“

“He kicked you out?” he asked, brow raised as he looked at Andy. Judge Gary Tellman had known Andy for most of his career. So much so that Andy had considered him a friend before their court date began. He knew that Sasha didn’t have a job, as Andy had insisted she be a stay at home mother. And as the proceedings continued, Andy had begun to feel that maybe that was the issue. Maybe the fact that his friend knew their marital life, and wasn’t instantly siding with him, it was an issue.

“Your honor, she was cheating on me.”

“I was attending a support group for parents coping with their feelings,” she argued, glaring at her husband, “you had someone follow me and-“

“AND HE KISSED YOU!”

“I PUSHED HIM AWAY!”

“IS THAT WHY HE’S HERE NOW?” Andy screamed at his wife, “is that why the man you’re fucking is sitting behind th-“

“ORDER!” the judge commanded, banging his gavel, “I will have order in my courtroom!”

Both Andy and Sasha quieted themselves and sat down while the judge tried to get the situation back on track.

“I want the two of you to listen and listen right now. Whatever is going on is between you two. I understand that divorces and custody hearings are difficult, but this is what happens. You will not scream at each other in my court room. Is that understood?”

“Yes your honor.”

“Yes.”

“Now…Mrs. Barber. Is the man that your husband is referring to in this room?”

“He is, your honor?”

“And why is he here?”

“Because when Andy threw my stuff out, he was the one that picked me up,” she informed him, “Curtis was the one that let me stay with him. I babysat his daughter in exchange for the roof over my head.”

“And you didn’t have anyone else you could stay with?”

“My father is going through some of his own issues at the current point in time with his own wife,” she admitted, “he had some other things to deal with. And as he reminded me. I am an adult, and I needed to forge my own path.”

“And these needless medical procedures you put your children through?”

“They weren’t needless,” she said with a shake of her head, “Ashley has a heart defect. An arrhythmia. I thought she stopped breathing one night, and I brought her to the doctors. Clearly, they agreed with me, as they believed something serious could be wrong. She was born with it. Through the tests we found out that she can’t be treated like other children. No contact sports. No harsh physical activities…because that can cause the arrhythmia. Which can cause her heart to stop.”

“So they were necessary.”

“Yes your honor!”

“Very well…”

“Your honor…I’d like to address Mr. Barber’s own parental history as part of the record,” Sasha’s lawyer began, standing up, “it is of my knowledge that Mr. Barber had an incident on father’s day with his children where authorities were involved. I believe that we need to examine that.”

“What?” Sasha asked, her own eyes wide at what she’d heard, “Wh-what are you talking about?”

“You weren’t aware of the incident at your home with your husband and children, Mrs. Barber?”

“No….a-are they okay?” she asked quickly, “What happened? Andy?”

“It’s none of your business, Sasha!”

“They’re my children!”

“Mr. Barber, you had another pull custody from your wife last year,” the judge said firmly, “am I to believe that your wife had no knowledge of what happened on father’s day a few months ago?”

Andy’s jaw tightened, “she’s not part of it, your honor!”

He looked to Sasha and her lawyer, “Proceed with your evidence.”

“On father’s day, Mr. Barber had an altercation with his then 11 year old son and 6 year old daughter where they discussed Mrs. Barber’s living arrangements. The children were upset after not having seen their mother for a matter of months. After the six year old spilled her juice, Mr. Barber struck his son. There are bruises from abuse that the doctors at the hospital can place as early as two months after she was removed from the home. The eleven year old spun into the table and landed in the broken glass. The six year old called the police and retrieved the gun from Mr. Barber’s gun safe, believing that her brother was going to be harmed. When police showed up, Mr. Barber was arrested. The children were taken to a hospital where they were examined. The eleven year old suffered internal trauma and had bleeding which had to be repaired surgically. The six year old would have suffered a heart attack had the pace maker not shocked her heart back into a sinus rhythm thanks to the previous mentions to necessary medical care provided by the mother in the past.”

Sasha’s throat went dry as she listened to what her lawyer had just said.

She hadn’t been aware of anything going on.

She’d been so lost in her little life with Curtis that she tried to p ush the fact that she was without her children to the back of her mind.

“Andy?”

He only glared at his wife, “they’re exaggerating. Little brats learned it from you!”

Her stomach sank as the tears rolled down her cheeks.

She had abandoned her babies.

She’d left them with someone who she thought they would be safe with only for him to turn out to be a monster.

“My-my children?” she asked, on the brink of sobbing, “wh-where are my children?”

“They’ve been under the care of a Jake and Maddison Jenson since the time of the incident,” her lawyer said firmly, reading from the file, “in that time, Mr. Barber hasn’t been allowed visitation as suggested from the original hearing.”

“Why wasn’t Mrs. Barber contacted?” the judge asked.

“It looked like Mr. Barber used his connections to ensure that the children would go to a family friend instead of foster care, and the case is sealed under Judge DiMattio!” her lawyer answered, “I had to fight with the courthouse to get these documents and statements alone, but Mr. Jensen has been extremely helpful in the case. The Jensen family attempted to contact Mrs. Barber, but her phone had been turned off months prior by Mr. Barber. She was unreachable. The Jensens are outside the court room, sitting with a bailiff and the children.”

The judge shook his head, the disgust in his face obvious, “I think I’ve heard all that I needed to hear. I’m going to make my decision.”

“Your honor-“

“I have decided in favor of Mrs. Barber,” the judge answered shortly, “Mr. Barber has provided no proof of wrong-doing when it comes to the parental rights of Mrs. Barber, and while he, himself has utilized the system to favor him, I believe that was a gross instance of misconduct, which I plan on bringing up and filing a complaint. Mr. Barber. I’m going to let you know right now, you are on thin ice, which is about to break. You’re going to be brought into police custody for the misuse of power and what seems like a partial decision and treatment based on your friendship with certain people.”

“This is lud-“

“Ballif, take Mr. Barber away!” the judge ordered as he banged his gavel, “Mrs. Barber…your children are outside this room…they are now in your sole custody, with no visitation rights for Mr. Barber. I’m sorry that justice has taken you this long to acquire!”

Chapter 27

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