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dudethatsmyundeaduncle · 5 months

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Tim Drake's Mom is actually Lara Croft! AU

After getting pregnant Lara Croft disappears off the face of the earth, takes up a shell company in Gotham left to her by her father, and assumes the identity Janet Drake.

(DC made Timmy's parents archeologists! so Sis it was between Indiana Jones or the Tomb Raider and well here we are!)

___________________________________________________________

Lara Croft has a daring archeological adventure/world saving mission with a dashing man she only knows as N. Drake (if u know u know) and finds out she's pregnant weeks after.

Lara Croft did not expect to be Pregnant. Lara knows that she shouldn't have a baby. She knows this intellectually and emotionally, she doesn't have any family left and after nearly 10 years of traveling the globe and putting herself in life or death situations she knows her life can't accommodate children. Lara knows the responsible thing to do, she makes an appointment with NHS/MSI and focuses on her next project. (TW: Discussion of Abortion)

Lara never gets her appointment. She misses her abortion date in London when she gets caught up in another mad expedition that takes her half way across the world.

On this mission she nearly looses everything, her friends, her own life, what's left of her father's legacy, all for a semi cursed magical artifact that nearly blows up the South American Coast.

Lara's tired, scared, she's been running from Trinity (evil org) for nearly a decade now . She's 29, she's 5 months pregnant, and she's stuck floating on her back in the middle of the South Atlantic sea watching the sky burn.

Lara's rich she could always get the abortion, legally or otherwise, her father left her a billionaire and the souvenirs she'd collected from her travels do nothing but add to that wealth.

Trinity wants Lara Croft dead, they'll never stop chasing, and Lara just wants respite. She wants her quaint childhood in the English countryside with her father, she wants to curl up and sleep for a thousand years. She wants to be someone else, just for a moment.

Her heart beats wildly in her chest and she can almost feel another heart beating alongside it.

Lara Croft makes a decision. She sinks into the sea and doesn't come back up for air even when it burns.

On the shore a nameless woman washes up, water logged and looking for passage to America.

The Croft's have had shell companies for years, one can't be a billionaire these days without at least a few, Medi-industries is an unassuming medical supplier located in Gotham, New Jersey the crime capital of North America. It's the perfect place to disappear.

Janet Drake Lands in Gotham on a gloomy morning in March, she's got enough money to throw around that people forget to ask what family she's from, this is Gotham new money is nearly unheard of.

By mid April Janet has reestablished control of Medi-Industries, Now Drake Industries, and purchased an old English style mansion in Bristol, which the real-estate agent has assured her is a great neighborhood.

Timothy Jackson Drake is born July 19th at nearly 3 in the morning squalling high into the night like a banshee. He is perfectly healthy and perfectly safe in Janet's arms.

It is only in the safety of their home, in the house Janet picked, because it was high on a hill for tactical advantage and had bullet proof glass nestled between quaint wood paneled windows, It is only in the heart of Drake Manor that Lara dares to Whisper her son's name

"Timothy Jackson Croft"

-------------------------

AU ALSO INCLUDES!

Badass Lara Croft being the cool mom TM

A family portrait of the Drakes, Including Janet, baby Tim, and a mysterious Jack Drake (who was a very discreet and well paid member of Gotham's theatre society, and who was also more then happy to pose as a rich ladies dead husband for a day)

A Socttish Nanny/Housekeeper with a very keen eye and discreet mouth who will not tell a soul that she is fairly sure she's employed by Lord Richard Croft's, eccentric billionares, missing daughter.

precocious and slightly British accented baby Tim who gets to have his Mom with him for 10 whole years! before she inevitably runs back off to save the world

Tim being unaware of his mother's past life beyond her name until the age of 13 when he becomes Robin and is able to actually find out what his mom's been protecting him from his whole life.

I imagine in this AU that eventually Trinity finally catches wind of where Lara is hiding and she has a big confrontation with them in New Jersey. It's way too close to Gotham and Tim for her comfort, she knows this is the only chance she'll get to control the chaos.

So she packs Tim up to move him into the dorms at Gotham Academy and promises she'll write and be home for his birthday in the summer. After she's finished her "company" business first of course.

Tim's confused but he trusts his mom, he gets unsigned postcards from all over the world and pins them above his bed in the dorm and goes to sleep trying to guess what country she's in every night.

The move to the dorm is kind of cool to Tim as well because it means he can start his plan to follow Batman and Robin in the city! (in this AU there's no way Lara wouldn't have noticed him sneaking out at 9, but Gotham academy security? totally oblivious)

Tim celebrates his 10th birthday with his mom at home, he has so many freaking questions about where she was! and she tells him outlandish stories about daring fights and cursed artifacts that he rolls his eyes at but enjoys none the less.

it isn't till he's 15 that his Robin work and his mom's adventures cross paths.

After so many years of close calls, of hiding bruises from his mom with same concealer she uses to hide her own wounds, of wondering if it was selfish to wish his Mom cared a little bit less about the world and would stay with him for more then a few weeks at a time. Finally it all comes to a head in the worst way. Lara Croft's latest adventure puts her right in the middle of a Bat Level investigation. It has Tim near loosing his mind with worry hoping his mom is alive and Lara having the worst freakout/Blow up of her life realizing her son has been putting himself in Danger every night she thought he was safe.

The Drake/Crofts are messy! Bad at communicating! And unfortunately the exact same kind of reckless and self sacrificing!

Fun food for thought:

Lara canonically is a killer, if you've played any of the reboot Tomb Raider series she can be pretty gruesome and efficient! Very cool! Jason would stan! Tim is kind of appalled! Lara is glad Tim's never killed, that he's never had to.

Lara still dies in this AU but it's in a big Trinity X Obeah Man X Captain Boomerang Cluster fuck where Lara finishes off Trinity and Obeah Man for good but looses her own life in the process. Tim is devastated, he feels like they were just starting to really be 100% transparent with each other before her death. Que Tim's not good very bad year!

if you've made it this far in my rambles here's a treat! I actually wrote a lil fuckin blurb for this!

preface: This the first time Robin and Lara Croft have ever met/are on the same mission.

___________

" mom!" Tim shouts, running before Bruce can even properly land the BatJet.

The old temple is ablaze, the ancient structure already half crumbled in on itself with what's left of it is spewing out clouds of jet black smoke.

Tim's mother limps out what was once the front entrance clutching at her ribs.

She's filthy, covered in a thick layer of dirt and grime. but she's got on a triumphant smile like the cat who got the cream.

" Mom!" Tim yells again watching as she does a double take at his choice of moniker.

Her mouth twists in a grimace as she stumbles and Tim dives under her arm quickly moving to support her left side.

Lara Croft meets the white lenses of Red Robin's eyes in confusion

" What'd you call me?" She slurs trying to blink away the smoke inhalation that makes it hard to focus and leaves her lightheaded.

Lara's right ankle which took the brunt of a very nasty dive from a very high perch, not 20 minutes earlier as she raced out of the Dead Kings Tomb, finally gives up the ghost and she pitches forward taking Red Robin with her.

He's young, she thinks, he's very young.

Before either of them can hit the ground Batman intercepts their fall hefting Lara into a secure hold.

Red Robin catches himself and latches onto Lara's hand.

He yanks off one of his gloves and tries to wipe some of the grime out of her eyes.

" Mum" he croaks this time, voice breaking nearly in half on the last syllable.

Lara furrows her brow, the cowl covers so much of this young man's face, from his nose too his brow bone, but his chin is startlingly familiar as is his absolutely atrocious British accent.

He reminds her terribly of Timothy.

" Tim" she says deliriously, Lara tries to smile but her eyes start to droop and her head lolls slack against Bruce's arm. She's clean out.

Tim makes an odd lunge and jerk movement pressing his fingers into her carotid artery to feel her pulse.

He's shaking, more wrong footed and anxious then Bruce has ever seen him.

Batman is extremely grateful when Nightwing comes up behind him and gently pulls his younger brother's hands away from his mother's comatose body.

" She's fine Red. We need to get her on board so we can get her some oxygen though, the smoke inhalation is getting to her. "

" Right" Tim says, still frozen in place. He shakes it off quickly " Right." he repeats pivoting in place and leading their small party through the remains of the ruins and back to the jet.

" I'll prep the med bay."

--------

pics or it didn't happen! (ps, if u wanna write, draw, or HC anything for this AU feel free my lads)

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thelivebookproject · 9 months

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Reading Wrap Up | October - December 2023 + 2023 Recap

One more year has gone by, I almost can't believe it and yet it's already time to review how the year was.

[Jan-March] [April-June] [July-Sept]

Code: books read in English are in black, books read in Spanish in red, books read in French in blue & books read in Portuguese in purple.

OCTOBER (3)

West With the Night - Beryl Markham -> 4/5

Desencajada - Margaryta Yakovenko -> 3/5

Death and the Penguin - Andrey Kurkov, trad. George Bird -> 2.5/5

My favourite was definitely Markham's: as a British woman in colonised Kenya, I was wary of starting her memoir, but it actually was a really pleasant surprise. Her love for the country where she grew up in was palpable with each description of the land and the sky, and her life as a rancher, horse trainer, and chartered pilot was fascinating and full of adventures. Desencajada was a good insight into the life of a second-generation immigrant, but it was too similar to Supersaurio (by Maryam El Mehdati), which I read earlier in the year, to offer anything different. Kurkov's book was curious, but not enough for me to really recommend it.

NOVEMBER (4)

O Alquimista - Paulo Coelho -> 2/5

The Intimacy Experiment (The Shameless Series #2) - Rosie Danan -> 4/5

Greek Mythology: The Gods, Goddesses, and Heroes Handbook: From Aphrodite to Zeus, a Profile of Who's Who in Greek Mythology - Liv Albert (ilustrado por Sara Richard) -> 3/5

The Housekeeper and the Professor - Yoko Ogawa, trad. Stephen Synder -> 3/5

Coelho's was for a book club and it was as simple and as bland as I expected, but it was my first ever book read in Portuguese so yay for a landmark! Rosie Danan's was great, and I actually added her new book to my TBR because in just two books she's become a trusted author for romance.

DICIEMBRE (7)

A Viagem do Elefante - José Saramago -> 3.5/5

Infocracy: Digitalisation and the Crisis of Democracy - Byung-Chul Han, trad. Daniel Steuer -> 4/5

My Roommate is a Vampire - Jenna Levine -> 2.5/5

Demigods & Magicians (Percy Jackson + The Kane Chronicles) - Rick Riordan -> 3/5

In Bed with the Stablemaster (The Rogue Files #6.5) - Sophie Jordan -> 2.5/5

¿Para qué sirve realmente la ética? - Adela Cortina -> 2/5

Le Testament Français - Andreï Makine -> 2/5

December was very good in terms of numbers but not in terms of quality. Infocracy was super interesting and I do really recommend it as a good intro treatise on contemporary debates about democracy and information. Saramago's was also fun if a little overlong, and as usual Riordan is a good comfort read. But the rest of them? I've already forgot what they were about, definitely meh.

As usual, if you want to have a chat about anything I read just send me a message!

Yearly Recap

[Hello 2023 post]

Reading (at least) 55 books [59/55]

12 books in French [4/12]

12 books in Spanish [12/12] [Plus several books translated into Spanish!]

12 non-fiction books [11/12] [So close and yet so far...]

12 LGBTQ+ books [3/12]

12 books by European writers (excluding British ones) [10/12]

12 books by African/Afro-Caribbean writers [1/12]

12 books by Asian writers [3/12]

4 books by writers from Oceania (Australia, New Zealand, etc.) [1/4]

4 books by Latin American writers [4/4]

Okay, so I didn't do THAT great in my goals, actually. A couple of them were reeeeeally close, but some others were so far away it's actually a little embarrassing. But oh well, we live and we learn, and we try again...

I'm actually fairly happy with how my reading year went, even if I didn't manage to read one single 5-star book in the whole year (something to improve for next year for sure!). I think that after a couple of years of stallment and block, I'm really getting my groove back and I'm really excited for what the new year will bring! I have also been curating my TBR this past month to make sure everything on it brings me joy, and now all of my picks excite me. I can't wait to get to them in 2024; you can follow my reading adventures over in GoodReads if you want to take a look at my shelves :)

I hope you all close out 2023 in style and have a wonderful start to 2024. May it bring happy adventures and many good books!

#thelivebookproject #2023 #anual recap #booklr

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tilbageidanmark · 2 years

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Movies I watched this Week #107 (Year 3 / Week 3):

It looked like Cataz was disappearing from the internet’s faceless face, so I started using Squeezebox, a new scraper as a replacement. So far it looks clean.

🍿

Maggie Cheung in 1996 X 2:

🍿 Comrades, Almost a love story, a magical, under-rated romantic story about yearning from Hong Kong with Maggie Cheung. Before she became magnificently glamorous, she was so peachy, seeing her makes me cry. So sweet that I wanted to watch it very slowly and took frequent stops all evening to savor it longer. The first half of two people trying not to fall in love was comparable to ‘In the mood for love’ which came four years later, but unfortunately Leon Lai was no match to the iconic Tony Leung and the story got sappier during the second half. 7/10.

Now I’m listening to Teresa Young singing Tian Mi Mi...

🍿 Irma Vep, my 5th by Olivier Assayas, from the short period when Maggie Cheung was his wife, the lucky bastard. She plays a fictional version of herself, as “Maggie Cheung, a Chinese actress” who’s acting in a French movie in Paris. It’s a blatant showcase of her radiant cat-woman face, but the story is impressionistic, unfocused and confused ‘Filming of a film’ process, reminiscent of Truffault’s much better ‘Day for night’, down to the casting of Jean-Pierre Léaud. 4/10.

With my favorite Ali Farka Touré’s Soukora on the soundtrack!

🍿

I loved Cristin Milioti as Sarah Wilder in ‘Palm Spring’ so much that I saw it about 10 times. So as soon as I heard that she stars in The Resort, a new TV-series, created by Andy Siara who was the writer for ‘Palm Spring’, I dropped everything to binge on its 8 episodes.

It started unexpectedly well with a couple who arrive at a Yucatan resort to celebrate their 10th anniversary. But the wife is obviously unhappy, and their relationship is missing something serious. Then she finds an old phone in the jungle, and unspools a mystery of two teens who disappeared there 15 years before. The couple start detectiving, but are soon being pulled into a complex metaphysical plot of ‘Time Portals’ and ‘Suspended conscientious’ and ‘Memory Leakage’ and what have you.

I wanted to like it, but every episode became stupider and more outrageous than the previous one. I did love though the many times when Cristin Milioti repeats the exact same speech intonations and voice mannerism from ‘Palm Spring’. 5/10.

🍿

3 Polish masterpieces, 2 with the extraordinary Joanna Kulig:

🍿 “..[My father] mistook me for my mother, so I used a knife to show him the difference...”

It’s been a year and a half since I discovered Cold war, Paweł Pawlikowski’s devastating masterpiece, and this is the first time that I’ve watched it since. I’m surprised to realize that it’s so much shorter (88 minutes), simpler and straight-forward. I remembered it as intricate, over-layered and complex. But the tragically-restrained love story is still sublime, breathtakingly melancholic and epic, one of the most lyrical romances I’ve ever seen.

How Zula sings ‘Two hearts, four eyes’ differently each time. 10/10.

🍿 In the controversial Clegy, Joanna Kulig plays a completely different character, that of a pregnant housekeeper with no agency. The story is about the utter debasement of the Catholic church, as exemplified by three priest friends. God’s servants are sinners and criminals, hypocritical, potty-mouth, abusive, transgressive alcoholics. And this is before they get into the systematic child-abuse story that engulfs all ranks, from the cynically corrupt Bishop to the local country priest. Shocking, angry, and unforgiving. 9/10. 🍿 Jerzy Skolimowski’s latest, EO, the story of a lowly donkey’s dreams and adventures. Not as spiritual as Bresson’s ‘Au Hasard Balthazar’, it’s still deeply humane. Films about sufferings, whether people or animals, whether abused or just neglected, are tough to sit through. But not this one: It’s simple but not obvious, full of surprises and heart. The protagonist was played by 6 different real-life donkeys.

These 3 were my best film events of the week!

🍿

Jonathan Mehring’s short Walls Cannot Keep Us From Flying follows two young Palestinians who have found freedom in skateboarding while surrounded by walls & barbed wire and facing harassment from the fascist Israeli occupation as well as their own communities. Please don’t get me started...

🍿

Bad words, Jason Bateman’s politically-incorrect directorial debut. A black comedy about a 40-year-old unsympathetic asshole with photographic memory who discovers a legal loophole in the rules of the National Spelling Bee, so they have no choice but allowing him to participate in it. 4/10.

🍿

7 more marijuana films (none of which I saw before):

🍿 It started innocently enough with a random pick, Tim Blake Nelson’s dark & funny Leaves of grass (one of the four feature films he had written and directed). Ivy League professor Edward Norton gets tricked into going back to Tulsa, Oklahoma by his twin brother the pot farmer, and gets tangled in his brother’s scheme to take down a Jewish drug lord. It starts with a fake lecture about the philosophy of Socrates and, like a Coen Brother plot, changes its tone to black comedy, to deadly action, to dreamy romance and other surprises. Susan Sarandon plays again the estranged pothead mom (like she did in ‘Ride the eagle’). 6/10.

🍿 Reefer Madness (Originally called ‘Tell your children’) the maniacal cult classic, a piece of anti-marihuana propaganda of North Korean magnitude. “Women cry for it - Man die for it!”. The beginning of the century-long racist “War on drugs”. What a horrible, destructive misdirection that cost so much since. Psychedelically-colorized.

🍿 Ice Cube’s hood masterpiece, Friday about two friends sitting on the front porch in South Central, getting stoned and talking shit. Unabashedly funny. “Bye, Felicia”. 7/10.

🍿 “That is where corn chips come from!”

Smiley Face, my first by Gregg Araki. An unusual stoner comedy, because it’s about a spaced out female pothead. She is such an uninhibited toker, that the story turns unbearably paranoiac, as she stumbles from one train rack to another, until the hilarious last 10 minutes. 4/10.

🍿 The X-rated Paddington, Seth MacFarlane’s directional debut Ted. A cute and often funny fairy tale about a friendship between two lazy slackers, one a grown up slacker and one a party-hardy, raunchy pothead/alcoholic teddy bear. Not exactly Disney stuff. With Norah Jones as the bear’s old lover, and Giovanni Ribisi in his scariest role. (Photo Above). 7/10.

🍿 Amy Heckerling’s Fast Times at Ridgemont High, the ‘classic’ coming of age in Southern California mall life. I always thought it was a about the always-stoned Jeff Spicoli surfer dude, but actually it was about high-school kids searching for love and sex. Many early roles for young actors who later went to bigger (and better) things, Nicolas Cage, Eric Stoltz, Forest Whitaker, Sean Penn, Jennifer Jason Leigh. 3/10.

🍿 And finally, not a movie, but the full recording of The Marijuana-logues (sound only) from their 2004 show. I saw Doug Benson and friends performing it life at a comedy club in Rancho Cucamonga, and loved it.

High-ku’s like: “My girlfriend thinks that I smoke too much pot. I, on the other hand, don’t think I smoke enough pot, because if I did, I’d be finished. And I’m not. Look, we all have our vices: I like to smoke a little weed; she likes to feed the baby. Different strokes for different folks”...

🍿

Ahmad rolled us a really strong joint, then he rolled his first sushi ever, and then we stone-watched the epic Goodfellas again. Deservedly and still one of the finest American movies of all time, and the most recent of the BBC top 20. It’s a rich, frenzy saga, with exhilarating direction, editing, cinematography, soundtrack and depth.

Also a terrific cast that includes bits by Billy Batts’ Frank Vincent, Samuel L. Jackson as Stacks Edwards, Michael Imperioli as ‘Spider’, Mike Starr, Illeana Douglas, Isiah Whitlock Jr., Kevin Corrigan, Etc. Also, Scorsese’s real dad & mom (and her famous painting of John Weaving and his two river dogs). 9/10

.🍿

Un-related, Jefferson Airplane’s Triad from their ‘Crown of Creation’, an old favorite. I just learned that David Crosby “gave it to them”. RIP, David Crosby.

🍿

Throw-back to the art project:

Jefferson Airplane Adora.

🍿

(My complete movie list is here)

#movies

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hiddenpxpercuts · 1 year

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Is that [SIMU LIU]? Oh no no, that was just [WILLIAM TRUMAN], a [CANON CHARACTER] from [WILL AND GRACE]. They are [31] years old, use [HE/HIM], and [ARE] aware that they are not actually from Washington DC. Too bad they can’t stray from this city for long.

Will has been in town for about a year now, working as a lawyer.

Will often recalls his rather unhappy childhood, growing up in the closet in a conservative WASP family. His mother has implied that she suffered postpartum depression after giving birth to Will that she would not pick him up for a year. He was mainly taken care of by their Irish housekeeper Fiona.[1] As a boy, Will performed plays during family events but his mother would discourage him, retrospectively admitting she was not prepared to raise a gay son.[2]

Grace says his brothers used to dress him up in his mother's clothes. On his 8th birthday, Will wanted a cowboy-themed party but his mom gave him a clown party instead and he had to fake smile his way through it. Since then, Will has always had aversion to birthdays.[3] He also recalls almost drowning in the neighbor's pool when his mother failed to save him because she just got her hair done. Will was traumatized by this that he never learned to swim until Jack taught him[4]. In any case, his siblings knew that Will is their mother's favorite.[5]

When Will was 9, he and his brothers chipped in to buy their parents a garden gnome for their anniversary which they named Squatsy.[6]

Will has also been described as an insecure, chubby and shiny kid who "was friends with the lunch lady and a girl with a small leg".[7] During elementary, a bully named Kevin Wolchek terrorized him that he ate lunch every day with the janitor and drank kahlua.[8] He mentions kissing a poster of the football team and being caught by the football team.[9]

In 1994, after his brother Sam's engagement to Ginny, Will told him that he should not get married because she is "morose and controlling and icy." This led to the estrangement of the two brothers, and Sam cutting of Will out of his life, splitting the family. Sam and Ginny would later divorce and Will and his brother would resolve their issues after Grace intervenes.[10]

During his high school years, he was best friends with Claire, whom he also used to date. She recalls that while driving at the beach after senior prom, she made her move on him and he panicked, crashing the car into a Dodge Dart. Although he seems to have shown hints of his sexuality early on, Will says that he was confused until his sophomore year in high school when during a game of basketball, he and Jay Barr touched stomachs, and he truly realized he's gay.[11] For his sweet sixteen party, he turned the basement into a roller disco.

Will occasionally mentions his interest in becoming a playwright even before he became a lawyer. Before he came out, he wrote a play entitled "Bye-Bisexual" about his conflicting feelings about being in the closet. It is implied that his playwrighting professor took advantage of him by pretending to take interest in his play.[18] Jack also mentions the play Will wrote entitled "If Gay Means Happy, Why Am I So Sad?" inspired by bad date.[19]

Fresh out of law school, Will worked at Getman & Denofreyo, before starting his own practice after two years[20]. However he closes down after his biggest client, Harlin Polk fires him[21] and he begins working for Doucette & Stein after Ben Doucette offers him a contract.[22] During his time there, Will manages to get Stanley Walker of Walker, Inc. as one of the firm's biggest clients.

Will is characterized as the most mature and reasonable character, with a penchant for crafts and good housekeeping. Although he occasionally seems distant and aloof, there have been many times when Will has shown his sensitive side, often going to great lengths to help his friends. In one particular instance, Will was willing to throw away his chances of becoming a senior partner at his law firm in order to take care of his emotionally devastated boyfriend.[24] It is mentioned in various occasions that Will supports Jack who is a struggling actor.[5]

Will's controlling and perfectionist personality also frequently becomes an issue with his friends and they often point it out to be the problem in his romantic relationships.[32]

Being a good lawyer, his friends and family usually comes to him for legal assistance. Will is also portrayed as a person with integrity when he decided to work for the Coalition of Justice.

" You Should Know Better. In This House. A Queen Beats A Straight Every time.": William Truman

#hw: intro #“ You Should Know Better. In This House. A Queen Beats A Straight Every time.”: William Truman #homohobia tw #depression tw

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paandaan · 2 years

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She saw that in the next picture his hand had finally left her shoulder. Priscilla McGuire was now held down by the child on her lap. She was again seated in the wing chair and had positioned the infant to face the camera, her hands gently supporting the arms as its spine rested under her bosom. Her shoulders and chin were bent down in a protective curve that demanded the lens capture her pride in this new extension of her flesh. With its dark oversized head, huge eyes, clenched fists, and bowlegs, only the veiled anxiety and awe in her eyes proclaimed her as the mother; but even the blindest fool could see that the man standing beside them was the father. His hand was resting contentedly on the back of the chair. And for the first time, he smiled. Lilac-colored ink had marked the bottom—Luther: 1 month.

Luther: 1 year. The child could now sit upright in Priscilla McGuire’s lap, so her long pale fingers were only clasped around its middle. The next five photographs were exactly alike except that her hands kept getting farther and farther apart as the child’s body widened and grew. At Luther: 6 years, the child stood up, at the other side of the chair. Priscilla McGuire’s hands were now free to be placed wherever she wanted them, but they were folded completely still in her lap—as if she’d grown accustomed to them being there. She was a striking contrast to the dark figures on each side of her, the son a miniature of the man, in almost identical poses with their matching tweed suits and vests. As the years went by, they could have been three wax figures but for the determined animation in the arch of her brows and her insistence on changing the way she held her head: a little to the left, a quarter turn to the right. No one called this woman just Mrs. Nedeed; they sent cards to Priscilla. Rang up and heard a clear, bell-like voice announce that name. She decided which parties to attend, who bored or amused her, and whom she would have in that house. She was already telling the photographer that she had her own way of thinking and acting, her own definition of important or trivial, right or wrong. Twenty minutes of instruction to the housekeeper and she was off. Those rigid rooms upstairs couldn’t contain her, and it was hard to imagine that she would have come back. But obviously she did each day because it was so important to sit each year and mark the progress of her child with lilac-colored ink.

There was no change—the same den, the same wing chair and the assorted beige dresses of which she seemed so fond. And the same dark fire in those eyes, matching the dark figures on each side of her. The first at the polls for the national elections in 1920. And she voted the Socialist ticket. She believed that Darwin was a fool and that Ida B. Wells should be canonized. She ran for president of the local Association of Colored Women three years in a row—and won. She urged her friends to get tickets for A Doll’s House, and later would think Lady Chatterley’s Lover the most important book of the decade. Luther: 8. Luther: 9. Luther: 10. But she cried at the club ceremony that made her Mother of the Year.

Ten years passed before she noticed the shadow. As the child grew, the height of his shoulder cast a faint shade across Priscilla McGuire’s body. It had started at her lap and then slowly crawled up across her stomach, chest, and neck. What began as a slight, gray film was now deepening into a veil. She squinted in the light. It was just another illusion; the woman wasn’t fading in the photographs. It was so easy for the eye to follow the dark lines from the son, across her body to the identical dark lines of the father. Her light skin, beige dresses, and prematurely graying hair could be easily dismissed if you didn’t stop to catch the flashing highlights in those eyes. Why didn’t she sit up in these pictures? She was leaning too closely toward the son, causing herself to be lost in his shadow.

A tight knot gripped her middle. The veil was now over her chin, drawing closer toward her mouth. The woman was not disappearing. She turned much more quickly now, forcing herself to stare only into Priscilla McGuire’s eyes and fix her on that page. She knew she was losing her mind. They were nothing but family portraits taken at a time when photography wasn’t sophisticated about angles and lighting. These were probably only the rejects that she kept for herself, placing them here as some sort of joke: the wedding portrait with the crooked finger, the bouquet flung into the wind. This woman loved to laugh: Look at her now, sitting there obviously amused by her position between the two grown men. Priscilla McGuire was staring straight ahead, surely laughing inside at something. But there was nothing in front of her except a round camera lens with her aging reflection caught permanently in a staid leather chair. Luther: 20 years. He had gotten no taller, so why was the veil now across her bottom lip? And in the next, it had finally crept up to cover her mouth. She had to know what was happening. Luther: 21 years. She was no longer recording the growth of a child; the only thing growing in these pictures was her absence. In the next, she would finally stand up. She would be out in the garden or strolling on the beach. She kept turning the years over and hoping.

[...]

Her face was gone. The photo album trembled in her cold hands as she realized there was no mistaking what she now saw: Priscilla McGuire ended at the neck—and without her features, she was only a flattened outline pressed beneath cellophane. The narrow chin, upturned nose, and deep fiery eyes were a beige blur between the shadows cast by the two grown men on each side of her. The entire face, the size of a large thumbprint, had been removed. This had been done on purpose. There was no way this wasn’t done on purpose. Cleaning fluid. Bleach. A drop of hot grease. Over and over, page after page, the smeared hole gaped out into the dim light. The sight of it sickened her as she kept slamming through the album, feeling her empty stomach heave. She had been tricked into this … I knew you would come, and I’m so pleased … into another twisted life. What other kind of woman would have kept something like this? A healthy mind would have never … She came to the last photograph. And scrawled across the empty hole in lilac-colored ink was the word me.

Linden Hills, Gloria Naylor

#linden hills #gloria naylor #tune.txt #readings.archive

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definitelyseven · 3 years

Text

hurts so good | twelve (final)

summary: growing up with Park Jinyoung was never easy and things are about to get worse when you’ve been asked to marry him

You sat down quietly across from him and next to your attorney. It had been three weeks since you last saw Jinyoung, three weeks since he agreed to the divorce. You only heard from him when he asked to meet to sign the papers.

“Thank you Mrs. Park for coming to meet us. My client said the both of you mutually agreed to sign today’s papers. Is that correct?”

“Yes that’s correct,” you responded as Jinyoung’s lawyer slid over some papers. Your lawyer intercepts the papers and begins scanning the document.

“My client is generously offering $20,000 a month for the next 40 years or a one time check of $10 million,” he revealed. You stared at Jinyoung in shock.

“No,” you denied. “No, I don’t want your money.”

“Mrs. Park, I urge you to reconsider this. It’s his responsibility to take care of you,” your lawyer reminded you.

“It’s Y/N and I can take care of myself,” you argued.

“How?” Jinyoung finally said. “You have no job, no house. Your father still gambles,” he exposed.

“That is none of your concern. I will figure it out. I will find a job. I don’t want your money. I don’t want to owe you anything,” you continued to explain.

“Just take the fucking money, Y/N! Don’t be so stubborn,” he exclaimed. You glared at him. “I’m sorry,” he sighed, knowing he’s going to lose this battle against you.

“Moving on to the next thing-,” his lawyer began to speak before you interrupted him.

“I don’t want a single thing from him. I’m not interested in what else is on that list.”

His lawyer looked over a Jinyoung, who had his arms crossed against his chest. He sighed again, nodding in agreement. He leans over to the table, “I want to talk to you alone.”

“No. My client will not be speaking with anyone without me present,” your lawyer declined.

“Don’t worry, we won’t be negotiating anything. My lawyer will leave to fix these papers, won’t you?” he instructed.

“Yes, that’s right. Mr. Lee, please follow me.”

“It’s alright. I’ll be okay,” you assured your lawyer. He nods leaving you alone with Jinyoung as he helps prepare the divorce papers. He stares at you in silence as you avoid his gaze.

“You wanted to talk?” you asked him.

He sighed lightly before leaning forwards once again. “This may be the last time we ever speak to each other like this - face to face.”

You gave him a subtle smile, nodding in agreement. “I will always be thankful for you and your family. You saved us and that will never change, no matter what happens between us.”

“I appreciate that,” he said. “Father loved you, no matter how harsh he was.”

You smiled weakly, “He loved you too.”

There was another long silence between the both of you. Now that you think of it, you and Jinyoung never had a peaceful conversation before. If he wasn’t being mean to you, he was yelling at you.

“I know Jisoo came to see you. I know she told you some stuff,” he said softly. “I should’ve been the one who told you and I’m sorry I never did. I’m sorry I never showed you.”

You held your breath. Never in a million years did you expect him to apologize.

“I hope the next person you love, you’ll be better to her than you were to me.”

His eyes began to swell, slightly turning pinkish. “She told me you thought I always loved her.” You looked down at your lap because you knew it was true even if they denied it. “Do you still believe that?”

“Look at where we’re at, Jinyoung. It doesn’t matter what I believe.”

“It does! It does matter. I may have never showed or told you that I loved you but I never loved anyone else. Not once,” he confessed.

“Every time we fought, you always ran to her. You always picked her, sided with her and I was the one in the way. What else was I supposed to think?” you questioned.

Jinyoung sighed. “February 14, 2013.”

“W-what?,” you stuttered with tears in your eyes.

“It was our senior year of high school.”

You remembered now. You had finally mustered enough courage to confess to Jinyoung. You hand-made heart shaped chocolates for him but he rejected you brutally even front of all your classmates.

“The night before - Jaebum stayed up all night making you chocolates. I overheard him confessing to the housekeeper that he was going to ask you to be his girlfriend. What gave him the right?” he asked, rhetorically.

“He never told me about this. I never received his chocolates,” you said, confused.

“I was so angry at him. He took my father away from me and now he wanted you! He wanted to take everything...everyone away from me!” he shouted. “I knew I couldn’t let him have you so I had to beat him to it. I had to tell you I liked you before he did.”

“Then why did you reject me?” you asked.

“I had this elaborate plan - to make you fall in love with me, to be together until Jaebum couldn’t handle it anymore and leave. But the moment I looked into your eyes that day, I didn’t have the guts to do it. I couldn’t confess to liking you out of spite,” he revealed. “But what I didn’t expect was for you to confess first.”

“You broke my heart then too.”

“I didn’t know if I liked you because I actually liked you or if I liked you to get back at Jaebum. You would’ve never forgiven me if you found out I confessed out of spite,” he said almost in tears. “I tried so hard to differentiate the two but I couldn’t, no matter how hard I tried. I didn’t know what to do and it drove me nuts. A couple of days later, it finally came to me. I thought if I was meaner to you, maybe...just maybe I would stop having those feelings for you. Maybe I could finally stop thinking about you.”

You stared at him quietly, taking in every word he said. Tears rolled down your face as the droplets of tears landed on the table.

“It worked,” he chuckled, bitterly. “The meaner I was to you, the easier it was to forget you. And every time I did something nice for you, I had to do something ten times worse the next time. Seeing how much pain you were in...it broke me but it always reminded me that my intentions were never pure to begin with. That’s why I always went to Jisoo. I confided in her.”

“Why did you ask me to marry you then?”

“He had already beat me at marriage - marrying the girl Father chose. Nothing would hurt him more than knowing I had you and he could never. I admit I ended up using you,” he revealed as tears fall from the corner of his eyes. You lifted your head up, staring at the ceiling as tears continued to fall down the side of your cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” he apologized.

“H-how can you say you love me when you used me?!” you sobbed.

“I knew it was wrong! I regretted it instantly but it was too late. You needed the money...” he whimpered. “If I could go back and change it I would. I would’ve loved you properly, cherished you..” he begged.

“God!” you whimpered to yourself. “Why did you do this to me?! I was happy! I had a boyfriend!” you cried, angrily.

“I know. I know. I’m so sorry,” he continued to apologize.

“I’m not some fucking reward you can claim when you feel like it! I loved you! I thought if I worked harder, tried harder, that you would start to love me! I was praying you’d change for me!” you continued to shout. “Are you that damaged that you had to break someone else to make yourself feel better?”

“I was 16! I never felt the way I felt for you with anyone in my life! How was I supposed to react? Tell me! What was I supposed to do?!” he shouted back.

You sobbed into your hand.

“I know this doesn’t justify all the shitty things I’ve done to you. You endured things no one should have to experience,” he explained.

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“Y/N, I’m telling you not because I want you to forgive me! I’m going to sign the papers regardless. All I wanted was to be honest about my feelings for once in my goddamn life,” he said.

You blinked slowly, letting the remaining tears in your eyes fall. You took a deep breath in. “When were you able to tell?”

“Our wedding night,” he answered. “Watching you walk down the aisle in that white dress. You took my breath away and in that moment I knew. I knew I loved you this whole time. It was never about competing with Jaebum. I was just afraid to let myself fall in love.”

“If you loved me so much, why did you sleep with other women? Why did you cheat?”

“Because with them, I never had to worry about falling in love. They mean nothing to me,” he explained.

“But they don’t know that! They think you like them that’s why they sleep with you, Jinyoung.”

“They know I’m married.”

“To someone you don’t love. They think they can Mrs. Park one day,” you sighed. “Stop playing with people’s feelings. Don’t hurt anyone else,” you asked, nicely. You paused, “If there’s one last thing you can do for me is learn to let go. What your Father did to your Mother was unfair and cruel but you don’t have to repeat the pattern. Learn to love the people you’re supposed to love. You’ll find that you have more people on your side than you know.”

“Will you be?”

“Oh Jinyoung…” you called out as you reached for his hand. You gripped it tightly. “I will always be on your side even if I’m not physically there with you.”

There was a light knock on the door. You let go of Jinyoung’s hand and wiped the leftover tears on your cheeks away.

“Come in,” he called.

“The papers are finalized. All that’s left is your signature.” The lawyers handed you each a pen. You scanned through the document until you reached the bottom of the page.

“I know you don’t want money but it will always be here if you need it. You just call me, okay?” Jinyoung asked, softly. You nodded but you knew you would never be calling him.

You uncapped the pen and began signing with Jinyoung following suite until you reached the final page.

This was it. No more Jinyoung.

“If we can do this over again, would you?” Jinyoung asked, spontaneously. “If you knew what you know now, would you still have said yes to me?”

You looked up from the papers and stared at him - taking in all his features one the last time. “Yes.” You scribbled your signature on the last page before standing up. “Goodbye Jinyoung. Take care.”

Four months. Four months of no pain, no tears, no Jinyoung. You moved away from the city to get away from the fast pace lifestyle, the busy streets and the people. You were content here. You spent your days helping an old couple sell fruit and pies in a small shop by a rest stop. The pay wasn’t nearly as much as a corporation but it didn’t matter to you. You could finally be yourself. You didn’t have to worry about being the perfect wife or worry if your husband loved you enough to come home that night. All that seemed trivial here.

“How much are the apple pies?” you hear someone asked. You scurried out to the front to greet the customer.

“They’re $5-” you began to respond before coming to a stop as you laid eyes on the man in front of you. “I- how did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t,” he responded. “I was taking your advice and finally letting go. I gave up my position at the company and decided to move here to live a more simple life.”

“Why here?”

“I-I don’t know...this was the first place I thought of,” he mumbled. “I guess I remembered you saying how much you wanted to move here when it was time to retire.”

“You remembered that?”

“Of course I do. I remember everything you told me even if it seemed like I wasn’t listening,” he explained. “So how much are the pies?”

“$5 each,” you said hesitantly as you handed him a pie.

“I honestly didn’t come here to purposely look for you. I know the last thing you wanted was to see me. I can leave if it bothers you,” he offered.

“No...who am I to not allow you to be here.”

“Okay then. I’ll see you around then,” he smiled before waving goodbye.

You returned the smile and watched him drive away. You thought you would be angry seeing him; maybe even feel hurt. But nothing. You didn’t feel any of those things. In fact, your heart raced at the sight of him.

Maybe this was fate. Maybe it was God’s way of telling you this is your second chance.

Whatever it was, no matter how it ends this time, you knew it wasn’t going to hurt as much as the first.

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highwaytothedangerzone502 · 2 years

Text

India Lima Yankee - Chapter 13

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 3343

Warnings: A little fluff, but mostly a lot of angst and heartbreak :(

Summary: Juliette Kazansky discovers Maverick is back in town for a special training detachment, but she's more than a little blindsided when her Rooster arrives too. Having not spoken to him for almost ten years after their less than amicable break-up, Juliette can only imagine how the next few weeks are going to play out when she remains head over heels in love with him while he wants nothing to do with Juliette other than to forget her.

Or so she thinks.

Notes: Chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: No One Haunted You Could Be Happy

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22 Chp 23

Juliette

'Danger Zone' blared on the radio while Bradley drove down the road. Juliette belted out to the song from the passenger seat, enjoying the breeze on her face from the open window and the warmth of Bradley's hand resting on her bare thigh. They were heading back to her apartment after breakfast. He was only in town for a short time before being shipped off for his first deployment. Juliette dreaded seeing him go for such a long time without the option of visiting him like she could when they were in college, but the Navy was Bradley's dream, and Juliette wouldn't stand in his way. Not again, at least.

They'd spent every waking moment together since he arrived, getting their fill of one another before his departure. They couldn't keep their hands off each other because neither of them was sure on the date Bradley would return. Juliette wanted nothing more than to grab her boyfriend by his hand and take him to bed, to have him leave marks of love all over her body. However, Bradley had to run some errands before his deployment, and Juliette needed to do some basic housekeeping because she couldn't stand a dirty apartment.

Bradley pulled up to her building and parked his truck out front. Juliette leaned over and kissed him, savoring every moment she could. Bradley cupped her face and gave her a peculiar succession of kisses to the point it made her ask, "Did you just spell out what I think you did in morse code in kisses?"

Bradley brushed his thumb over her cheekbones. "Yes, I did."

"I love you too." Juliette absent-mindedly reached for her locket, the very one Bradley had given her as a sixteenth birthday present when they first started dating. Inside resided a photo of Bradley on one side and a picture of her dad and Maverick on the other. "I'm looking forward to dinner tonight."

"Me too. Now go before I park this car and take your breath away in the backseat."

"Scandalous," Juliette laughed. Unable to help giving him one more peck on the lips, she jumped out of the car before she let him follow through with his 'threat.' She took the steps to her apartment two at a time, excited for the day and anxious for dinner. Bradley told her to dress up, so Juliette bought a whole new outfit for the occasion, which she planned on surprising him with.

Entering her apartment, she put in her headphones and set to vacuuming, jamming out to Taylor Swift, Katy Perry, and One Direction. The music drowned out all sound, save for the distant roaring of the vacuum, until she'd finished with that and moved onto the Swiffer. Juliette was halfway through the task when the front door slammed shut. Thinking Bradley's trip had been strangely short considering everything he had to, she took out her headphones and peered into the hallway. Sure enough, her boyfriend stood in front of the door, his complexion wan and expression haunted. Leaning the Swiffer against the wall and placing her iPod and headphones on the arm of the couch, Juliette made her way over to Bradley. "Hey, honey, what's-"

He held up a hand, halting both her question and her walk. In a deathly quiet voice, he asked, "How long have you known?"

Juliette's heart raced at the question. He couldn't... how did... there was no way he knew... she had to play it cool in case it wasn't what she dreaded it was. "How long have I known what?"

"That Maverick pulled my papers."

Juliette felt the color drain out of her face; her legs threatened to give out beneath her. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be what happened before he deployed.

"Juliette," Bradley said her name in such a clipped tone that she knew no matter what she said, no matter what she did, it wouldn't do anything to alleviate his anger. "Did you know?!"

Juliette's voice sounded so childlike to her as she managed to say, "Yes. For eight years. Since the day he made the decision..."

Betrayal barely covered the expression that settled onto Bradley's face at her words: the despair, the disbelief, the rage. So much rage. He strode past her with his hands clasped behind his head, hands white-knuckling his hair. Juliette followed a conservative distance behind him, recognizing he needed space from her right now. She stopped in the middle of the living room, standing awkwardly in the disconcerting quiet, hugging herself while Bradley silently paced and fumed.

"I'm sorry," Juliette finally whispered. "I'm so so-"

"For what, exactly?" Bradley snapped, coming to a stop and facing her. "For helping Maverick set me back four years? For helping him crush my dreams?"

"Everything. I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. I'm sorry for setting you back, but-"

"Then why?" he demanded, pointing an accusatory finger at her. "Why did you stand in my way?!"

"I was sixteen when I made that decision. You can't hold that against me," she argued weakly, her voice hitching. "I was scared and upset-"

"About what? What could you possibly have been scared and upset over when you had the perfect life?"

"The perfect..." Juliette trailed off, shaking her head, confused. "I didn't have a perfect life, Bradley. No one does. Others may have it better, but no one's life is perfect."

"Then you came pretty damn close to one."

"Maybe I did, but that doesn't mean I was happy all the time. To be honest, I was scared a lot of the time the first couple of years of high school."

"What were you scared of?"

"You."

"Me? You were scared of me?"

"Not of you. For you," Juliette snapped back, her own anger suddenly rearing its head. "You were reckless and stupid, and I was petrified your temper would get to you while you were flying and that it'd get you killed. I was sixteen, Bradley. I was used to patching you up, and we were losing your mom, and-"

"No, I lost my mom," he interrupted sharply. "There's no 'we' in that. She wasn't yours."

"Your mom was like a second mother to be. I practically grew up with her too, and it devastated me to lose her. I was close to her. The number of conversations we had over you, discussing our fears... I wasn't the only one afraid of you flying."

"My mom had a reason to be afraid of losing me! You didn't! You've never lost a damn person in your life!"

"Just because I haven't lost direct family doesn't mean I haven't lost people!" Juliette was crying now, a mixture of hurt and frustration. "I lost my grandparents, I damn-near lost a brother, I've attended more military funerals than any kid should! I am so sorry for setting you back, but I'm not going to apologize for not wanting the next funeral I attended to be yours!"

"Is that how you think of my flying? You think I'm that shit of a pilot?"

"No! I think you're a phenomenal pilot, but you're shit at controlling your temper! You get reckless and stupid when someone or something gets under your skin. You're going to get yourself killed with the way you behave!"

"That's bullshit!" Bradley retorted, taking a step towards her. "Four years at the academy, and I did nothing that made you think to call this out on me sooner? This so-called 'recklessness' of mine?"

"No, you didn't. Nothing ever set you off during your time at the academy that made me feel the need to tell you."

"I find that hard to believe," Bradley scoffed, shaking his head at her. "Of all people, you and Maverick were the last ones I'd expect to stab me in the back."

"We were trying to protect yo-"

"That wasn't your fucking call to make! I get to make the decisions about my life, and if those decisions get me killed, then so be it, but at least I made them!" Bradley stormed past her, and Juliette chased after him. She grabbed his arm, but he yanked it harshly out of her grip. "Don't touch me!"

"Where are you going?" Juliette asked tearfully, watching him grab his keys and jacket, desperately wanting to hold onto him but refraining, knowing it'd only anger her further.

"Away from you," he shot back, not bothering to turn around and say it to her face. Juliette flinched when the door slammed behind him. She stood rooted to the spot, staring at the place Bradley had just been as she processed what had happened. The words were never spoken, but Juliette held no doubt that hers and Bradley's eight-year relationship and even longer friendship had ended. Just like that. In the blink of an eye. A decision she'd made as a terrified, emotional sixteen-year-old came to haunt her with mind-numbing effects.

Juliette wasn't sure how long it was before she stumbled away from her spot and to the living room, where she sank onto the couch and pulled her knees up to her chest. Juliette waited in total silence for Bradley to return from wherever he'd gone to cool off, but as the hours ticked by- first one, then two, then four, then six- a cold and ominous foreboding settled into her bones.

Bradley wasn't coming back.

Juliette, fully aware he wouldn't pick up if she called, still dialed his number. It rang and rang and predictably went to voicemail. She listened to his familiar voice, her heart wrenching at the idea of never hearing it again. When the beep sounded, Juliette took a deep breath and, with more tears in her voice than she wanted, said, "I know you don't want to talk to me right now, and I know you're angry at me, but please take care of yourself. Please... please don't let me right about what I said earlier, okay? Please just come back in one piece. I love you."

Juliette hung up with shaking hands and set it down on the couch beside her, only to pick it up again at an incoming text a few seconds later. Simultaneously elated and anxious for his response, Juliette opened the message. Her heart, already cracked and fragile from their earlier argument, shattered into a million pieces at his words: "I'm not coming back."

***

Juliette barely moved from the couch, only getting up to use the bathroom and reach for tissues. She hadn't slept, she hadn't eaten, she couldn't do anything but replay the argument over and over in her head, nor could Juliette stop seeing Bradley's final text to her, the words burned permanently into her mind.

Juliette hoped she'd have the strength to go to work after having time to recover from the tumultuous weekend, but that didn't happen. Instead, her condition only worsened, and the guilt and heartbreak made her physically sick. More than once, Juliette found herself hurling the near-empty contents of her stomach into the toilet when it all became too much. Her boss, thinking she was ill with the stomach flu, sent Juliette home halfway through Monday. A day later, her parents discovered the breakup. They'd already been concerned when they hadn't heard from Juliette or Bradley in more than seventy-two hours. Their daughter broke down while explaining what happened, hiccupping and sobbing her way through the story. Tom and Sarah Kazansky held their daughter in comforting embraces, but for once, it did nothing to help. Juliette wanted two people right now, Maverick or Bradley, neither of whom were around. Maverick was still deployed in some far corner of the earth for the next two weeks, and Bradley wanted nothing to do with his ex.

"What can we do to help?" her mom asked, cradling her daughter on the couch as they watched TV the fourth night after the breakup.

"I don't know. I don't think there's anything I can do. He's not coming back, mom," Juliette whispered, her voice hoarse from all the crying. "The last time I saw him that outraged was when he discovered Maverick pulled his papers, and we both know how that ended up between them."

"Have you told Maverick?"

"No. Not yet..."

"He'd want to know."

"I know, but he's still on deployment, and we both know he'd defy orders to get back here early, and I don't want him getting into any more trouble than he already has. I don't want dad to have to use one of his favors to get Mav out of the situation. I'm not worth that."

"You are to your dad and Maverick."

Juliette appreciated the kind words, but she didn't believe them. How could she be worth getting in trouble for? It's not like she'd ever be able to return the favor to them for sticking their neck out for her. Juliette didn't hold the power her father did.

The following day, Sarah and Tom Kazansky reluctantly departed their daughter's apartment at Juliette's request. She told them that yes, she was upset and hurt and struggling, but that she would be okay. Besides, her parents still had responsibilities back home, and Juliette wouldn't hold them back any longer. There was nothing they could do to help anyway. Juliette brought this upon herself, and she would suffer the consequences alone without burdening anyone else. She would tell Maverick when he got back, but she would only tell him once. He had his own shit with Bradley to deal with and didn't need to add her issues with him to the list.

For the next few days, Juliette forced herself to endure work. It surprisingly provided a great distraction, almost too much. Her boss made her go home when he found she was still working madly away at eight p.m. Juliette unwillingly acquiesced, not wanting to be in the silence and solitude of her apartment but having no other choice.

On Saturday, she woke up to a bright and sunny day, too cheerful for her still somber mood. Juliette rolled out of bed and shuffled around her apartment, methodically going through each room and gathering Bradley's belongings. She went through her jewelry box, too, collecting every necklace, ring, and bracelet he'd ever given her. Juliette wouldn't be able to wear them without thinking of him, and she couldn't do that to herself. Her chest tightened at the idea of parting with the gifts because in doing so, it would be like getting rid of Bradley, the little bit she had left of him, but she had to do it. If Juliette was going to move on, the only things that could remain of Bradley were the memories.

A knock sounded on her door. Juliette dared not hope it was her ex returning to make amends between them. That only happened in romance novels, and her life wasn't one. Most likely, it was her parents coming to check on her like they said they would.

Juliette opened the door and froze. The only other person besides Bradley who could've shocked her with their presence stood before her, eyes wide with concern.

"Maverick!" Juliette breathed.

"Hey, Jules," her uncle replied, his voice too soft and understanding for him not to know what had happened. Juliette, having thought she had cried all her tears, broke down as she threw her arms around Maverick's neck, pulling him into a deathly tight hug. He returned it willingly. "What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be back for another week."

"Your dad called," Maverick answered simply. Juliette pulled away to wipe the tears rolling down her face. "Why didn't you call me when it happened?"

"Because I knew you'd come and break orders to do so, and I didn't want you pissing off any more admirals," she joked lightly, switching to using her sleeves to wipe away the tears when her hands weren't sufficing. "I'm not worth one of dad's favors."

Maverick grasped her shoulders firmly. "Juliette Sarah Kazansky, you listen to me: you are worth everything to your parents and to me, and your dad would cash in every favor he had to make sure you were okay."

Juliette nodded, afraid if she spoke, the knot in her throat would burst, and she was exhausted from crying. She just wanted it to stop.

Maverick stepped inside and shut the door. The two of them went into the living room, where Juliette had piled all of Bradley's belongings. It would all fit in one big box, but she'd yet to muster the energy to start packing it.

Maverick took a seat on the couch next to her and said, "Talk to me, Princess. What happened?"

Juliette took a deep, steadying breath before diving into the story. She'd repeated it so many times to so many different people- her mom, her dad, Firefly, her brothers Jack and Joey, and her boss- that she no longer cried when she spoke of it. However, the pain in her heart and the tightness in her chest remained ever-present. Those, she had no doubt, would take forever to go away.

"I don't even know how he found out," Juliette finished, slowly folding his Hawaiian shirts and tees. "I didn't think to ask him."

"You were concerned with other things at the time. And you haven't spoken to him since?" Maverick queried, reaching over and picking up a wallet-sized photo of Bradley and Juliette at a recent friend's wedding. They beamed not at the camera but at each other, happy and as in love as could be. It'd been taken only three weeks ago.

"No. Not since the text he sent me that he wasn't coming back," Juliette responded, taking the picture from Maverick when he handed it to her. She barely glanced at it, not wanting to see everything she'd lost, and placed it atop the neatly stacked clothes inside the box. "Bradley made his decision, and nothing I can say or do will make him change his mind. I made my own decision back then, and I can't change it now. I have to bear the consequences of that."

"You were sixteen, Jules. You were scared for him. We both were."

"I know, but that doesn't seem to matter to him." Juliette frowned, a burst of anger rising in her chest. "The dumbass told me he wasn't reckless, but you want to know what he did? Damn-near crashed his fucking plane into his instructors in a mock dogfight the day after we broke up!"

"Is he okay?!"

"Yeah, he's fine," Juliette mumbled, swiftly reverting back to her resigned melancholy. "He ships off in a week, and I need to make sure this all gets back to him. He can decide what he wants to do with all the jewelry and photos, but I don't want them. I can't..."

Maverick reached up and squeezed Juliette's hand when her voice trailed off, the tears threatening to overwhelm her again. "I know. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Drive me to the post office so I can ship this?" she asked semi-hopefully. She didn't want to make the trek alone.

"Of course. Let me go organize my car. I kind of threw everything inside and came straight here."

Juliette smiled at Maverick, love and appreciation flooding through her. Her uncle excused himself and exited her apartment. Juliette finished putting in the remaining belongings and was in the process of closing the box when she remembered one more thing.

The locket.

Juliette's hand instinctively went up to the piece of jewelry dangling around her neck. The idea of parting with it forever killed her, but she had to do it. It was a piece of Bradley that she had to get rid of. With trembling fingers, she slipped the locket over her head and slipped it into an envelope for protection. On top, she wrote a short message, tears dropping onto the paper: "I'm so sorry. I hope one day you can forgive me. India Lima Yankee."

***

Tags: @lgg5989@shanimallina87@polikszena@summ3rlotus@souslesyeuxde@gleasonmalfoy@icemansgirl1999@supernaturaldawning@thedarkinmansfield@lyannaforpresident@lapilark@getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth@simpofthecentury @blueeyes-blueskye @gleasonmalfoy @armyx78

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purplehanfu · 3 years

Text

Fall in Love: Episode 1

notes: Spoilers!; thanks @dangermousie and @tomorrowsdrama for getting this on my radar.

It’s the mid-1920′s and we’re on an ocean liner headed for Shanghai. First the bad news: we're apparently on the ship from the Philadelphia Experiment because we've become unstuck in time- every character is dressed from a different decade. Now the good news: all the characters are hot, so we don't care.

1940's schoolgirl Mu Wan Qing sits in her cabin helpfully documenting exposition in her diary.

She's been away from Shanghai for 10 years. Dad has been made the President of the Chinese General Chamber of Commerce. Previous mom- deceased. New mom- a beeyotch. She puts her diary in her Newt Scamander suitcase and heads topside for breakfast.

Up on deck we meet 1950's teddy boy Tan Xuan Lin who is drinking wine at 9am with his girl pal 1930's Betty Boop.

Boop excuses herself with a tummy ache and heads backs to their cabin. Unbeknownst to her, Tan Xuan Lin follows. Now the fun begins.

Boop is in their cabin trying to pick the lock of Tan Xuan Lin's suitcase (which incidentally looks exactly like Mu Wan Qing's- will we get a classic switch-a-roo? Here's hoping). Tan Xuan Lin catches her and she gives us some character background on him- he’s the mastermind behind a coup plot, but she wants to stop him and have his hotness all for herself. Unimpressed and undeterred, Tan Xuan Lin slashes her throat(!) with what looks like an army medal(!!). Wow, this drama is going hard right out of the gate- I love it.

boop-oop-a-doop you're dead

Mu Wan Qing finds herself in a hostage situation when she accidentally walks in on Tan Xuan Lin stuffing Boop's body under the bed. She calls for help and they narrowly avoid getting caught/rescued by the 1980's OL housekeeper.

“sorry, I thought this was the Shomuni set”

Tan Xuan Lin assumes Mu Wan Qing is Japanese and only speaks English to her (I have no idea what that’s about). The ship docks, they disembark and go their separate ways- almost.

Tan Xuan Lin's ride gives us his entire backstory before they even get into the car. The short version? Wu Xiang Ying and Tan Xuan Lin are ride or die military bros.

I too run through the history of my friendship with whomever I'm picking up at the airport

Tan Xuan Lin suddenly realizes Mu Wan Qing understood Chinese so he re-kidnaps her, then looks through her suitcase.

“wow, you crossed the ocean with just a single outfit, a fountain pen, a diary, eight tubes of lipstick and your mom’s ashes”

They then check into a hotel as husband and wife.

We meet our second male lead, the very junior marshal from the Governor's House, Xu Guang Yao.

no matter what decade you're from, boy band bangs are always appropriate

In the elevator, he notices that Tan Xuan Lin and Mu Wan Qing are handcuffed together. Tan Xuan Lin plays it off:

In his room, Junior Marshal Provincial Military Governor Xu Guang Yao is congratulated on his impending engagement to Mu Wan Ting (Mu Wan Qing's step or half-sister, not sure which). But in a plot twist we could all see coming:

“no I just have resting emotional void face”

Mu Wan Qing has been handcuffed to the bed but manages to escape. Gasp! She picks up the wrong suitcase and runs out of the room, down the hall and directly into Tan Xuan Lin.

“oh what a coincidence, are you staying here too?”

The chase is on for approximately one hallway and one flight of stairs. Mu Wan Qing runs into Xu Guang Yao (literally) and shoves him into the nearest open door.

Cue my very least favorite drama trope- they knew each other as children. I'm skipping this whole hazy, over-romanticized flashback. Suffice it to say they recognize each other.

We find out what exactly was in Tan Xuan Lin's suitcase- a deployment map for the coup d’etat. Now TXL thinks that Mu Wan Qing is in league with the Governor's House. Tan Xuan Lin argues with Wu Xiang Ying- should they move up the timeline for the mutiny or try to get the map back.

Xu Guang Yao drops Mu Wan Qing off at her house. We meet evil stepmom and Mu Wan Ting, neither of whom are happy to see her.

Xu Guang Yao realizes that the suitcases have been switched and goes in the mansion with Mu Wan Qing to investigate.

They realize the suitcase has a false bottom- but before they can open it, they are interrupted by Mu Wan Ting who shoos Xu Guang Yao away. The episode ends with Xu Guang Yao stating the obvious:

geez guy, control your emotions

Bonus:

It was super nice of the Couple of Mirrors girls to let Mu Wan Qing and Xu Guang Yao use their room.

#chen xingxu #evan lin #zhang yingli #zhang jingyi #fall in love #just the first episode

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sunnysviolin · 4 years

Note

Sometimes, when sunny visits kels house for a sleepover, (or just anyones house except for basils) the host would always wake up to:

A missing sunny (who is most likely in some weird ass place like the roof)

A sunny that it staring at you from the foot of the bed or beside it

A sunny that stares from the doorway (he stares alot)

A sunny that is playing bo en my time at an unreasonable hour but at a reasonable volume (or vise versa)

Alright so a different nonnie also sent me “How many times do you think sunny scares people by staring at them from the foot of the bed / beside them when they wake up?” So I’m....combining these two XD Also if you guys like....resend things can you say they’re a resend LOL bc if I have another Cho double take situation I’m going to backflip into the sun. Also don’t resend more than twice (i’m gonna be putting that in my bio bc....yeah don’t do it makes me anxious D:)

Okay mini housekeeping thing aside! This got long it’s under a read more because it’s long, but it’s full of shenanigans, sleepovers, and our local fave cryptid Sunny

I’m going to focus this in on post-canon, because I think that Sunny’s ultimate cryptid energy flows forth in his teen years. Also I really want to include the hooligans in on this (I’m...love them)

So pre-canon Sunny and Mari’s house was the go to location for their group of six. They were almost always there, but there was some unspoken rules.

You called before you came over (Only Kel didn’t follow this rule, but he always knocked and waited patiently at the door) and you had to be invited to stay for dinner. If not you went home when Sunny’s mom called a fifteen minute warning before dinner. There was also no arguing within the house. If there was an issue that needed to be addressed, Mari and Sunny’s parents would immediately send everyone home.

Post-canon Mari is gone and the house has been sold. Hero and Kel’s house becomes the go to hang out house after that. Their house is nearly night and day to Mari and Sunny’s

Mari and Sunny’s house was always neat and tidy and very quiet. Their parents generally left the TV off and didn’t use the radio, so unless one of the two children were making noise, everything would be silent. Kel and Hero’s house is in constant motion and activity. Sally is usually either babbling or screaming, music is always playing on the radio, and their main form of communication is friendly yelling at one another. Kel and Hero’s house also has an open door policy- anyone can walk in at anytime and they all know where the spare keys are hidden.

Post-canon I see a quick friendship building between Aubrey’s gang and Basil Sunny and Kel. Hero enjoys them all, but it’s not really his scene now that he’s spent a year or so at college. He will get brought along for some adventures, and he’s always up for hanging around the house with them, but when it gets to be a bigger group he prefers to just let them have fun.

When it’s just his four kids, Hero is always a part of the group though.

OKAY ALL OF THAT BUILDUP ASIDE LETS GET TO THE ACTUAL POINT OF THIS ASK

So this is when school is in session and Hero is back at college. Kel tells Aubrey that Sunny is coming up for the long weekend, and they should all do a sleepover at his house like old times. She agrees and they arrange it with Basil. Kim overhears their plans and she has FOMO so she arranges herself to be there when they tell Basil

Normally Kel makes it a point to try and include Aubrey’s friends (who are slowly just becoming friends) but this time he just pretends she isn’t there and tells Basil to come right after school and they can drive together to get Sunny.

Kim weedles it out of Aubrey later that day when they’re alone in gym class. The reason that they didn’t immediately invite her and the others? Sunny is apparently weird at night

Kim fires back that Sunny is always a little weird, but Aubrey is being fully serious. Unfortunately all that does is make Kim more curious. She goes to find Kel afterward and half asks/half demands an invitation to the sleepover. Kel seems a little awkward about her involving herself, but he agrees that she and the others can join in if they like.

Aubrey and the others arrive

Kim soon finds out that Aubrey was 100% right. Sunny is...weird at night.

At around 10:00 pm, Sunny disappears. Basila nd Aubrey went into the kitchen to make popcorn, and Kel was busy fiddling with the TV to get the movie to start. When he turns back to the couch, he asks where Sunny is. They realize Sunny has vanished.

Aubrey and Basil come in with the bowls of snacks, and Kel asks them if they’ve seen Sunny. Basil says to check the roof.

The roof. The hooligans all laugh (Basil is a sweet kid when you get to know him, but his nerves make even his jokes strange) The other three don’t laugh. In fact Kel gets up and goes to the door.

The hooligans follow out bewildered, and Sunny is o n t h e r o o f. CASUALLY. JUST THERE PETTING AN ORANGE CAT WHO IS LOUNGING PURRING NEXT TO HIM. AND KEL AND AUBREY AND BASIL DONT REACT??? Kel just waves?? and Sunny waves back???

“We’re gonna watch Insidious now, I know you haven’t seen that one before. Wanna come in?” “Kay” “Do you want to bring your cat in with you? I’ll put Hector on his leash” “Yes please”

Then the three just walk back and tell the hooligans to follow them in. Sunny got himself up so Sunny can get himself down.

It’s only the beginning of the madness. Sunny walks in holding the still purring orange cat and settles himself down in his specific corner of the couch (They were prewarned not to sit in Sunny’s spot) Aubrey cuts Kim off before she can ask about the roof, and starts the movie. Kim looks over at the cat, and it locks eyes on her, hissing.

The movie begins and Sunny will randomly speak but only to say when a character is going to die/be scared. Right before it happens. Every single time. Didn’t Kel say before that he hadn’t seen this movie?? It doesn’t matter Sunny keeps going

A ghost. A ghost. Lost in an alternate dimension by shamanic journey. It’s bizarre. The cat continues to purr a rusty old engine noise in Sunny’s lap, periodically looking at one of the hooligans and hissing, choosing a different one every time. Who’s cat is that????

They finish the movie and start to play board games. They pick monopoly and decide to divvy up into teams. Kim immediately claims Aubrey, Vance decides to go with Kel and Kel grabs Mikhael to create a trio. Charlie and Sunny silently sit beside each other, and everyone assumes that makes them a team. Angel pulls Basil to his side and they’re prepped to play the game.

Kim likes to consider herself a pretty good monopoly player, and Aubrey is a whiz with money and numbers, so she assumes they have this in the bag.

She did not account for the Sunny factor.

Sunny stares her down through the entire time. Kim is sure he doesn’t blink. She forgets to bid on auctions for properties and gives him extra rent money. They go bankrupt first, and Sunny turns his eye onto Kel who just laughs and gives Sunny finger guns. Sunny finger guns back (his face still a blank slate) and proceeds to also take all of Kel’s money.

They go to bed shortly after, and Kim is relieved. Nothing also weird can happen. Now she just has to sleep.

She wakes up in the middle of the night and adjust her position, turning over to face the other side of teh room. Four shining eyes stare back at her, catching the dim light from the kitchen. Kim shakily grabs her phone and turns on the flashlight, whirling around to see Sunny staring at her, his orange cat on top of his head.

She wakes all the rest of them with her shriek of terror. The group of four quickly settle to sleep once more, even Sunny crashing down next to Aubrey and Basil. hissing cat caught firmly in his arms.

She and the other hooligans stay up for a bit, frantically whispering about the oddness of the situation. They resolve to leave early in the morning, and to distance themselves as much as they can from...whatever Sunny is. They’re certainly glad he doesn’t go to their school anymore.

The next morning, the group of four wake up before the hooligans and cook a big breakfast. They put the phone on speaker and chat with Hero as they do so, catching up on his latest college stories. Bo en is playing from the cd player in the corner of the kitchen, kept low so as not to wake the others.

The hooligans creep downstairs and peer inside. The scene is shockingly...normal.

Sunny is still carrying his cat, but now Kel is feeding it tiny bits of bacon and it is stretching out of Sunny’s arms to reach the next delicious morsel. He’s chatting with Hero over the phone, speaking in full long sentences which is a rarity for Sunny. He even laughs quietly at a joke Hero tells.

Kim tries to translate the horror she felt last night into this morning, but it’s not there. Sunny doesn’t seem like an eldritch horror during the day. Just another teenager happy to be with people he enjoys.

Hero hangs up shortly after, and the group of four settle back into a placid silence. Aubrey breaks it by turning to the others

“I know it was weird, but I’m glad that they came for last night.” the three boys agree, and Sunny leans against the counter near Aubrey so she can scratch one hand under his cat’s neck while still flipping pancakes. When he speaks, his voice is near silent, but they all hear it anyway.

“They’re nice. They didn’t treat me different.”

The hooligans share a look and simultaneously agree to stay for breakfast.

#omori #omori headcanons #omori headcanon #omori sunny #omori basil #omori kel #omori aubrey #omori hero #mentioned lol #omori kim #omori scooter gang #hooligans #omori hooligans #cryptid sunny

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princessphilly · 3 years

Text

Word count: 5627

Tag list: @ohpuckyeah, @joelsfarabee, @besthockeyfics. @dreamer1430 @Defiant-Mouse @miracleonice87 @lovethepreds @linkingdolans @chicagostylehockey @heatherlcrosby87 @hockeywocs @shortstacks-blog @heatherawoowoo @newlibrary @markymarkstrom @iangiemae @puckbitchesgetmoney @missymore @himbos-on-ice @fiveholegoal @no-pucks-given @pagirl6866 @willieshakesqueer @nazdaddy @whatishockey @alphalib22 @romanseggy @laurenairay @texanstarslove @konecny-s @cutiesara23 @myhockeyworld87 @extratragic @squidlywiddly87 @stuff4me2do @allinangel93 @mydarkestsecretlol

CW: angst, meeting the family, references to the n-word, people sucking

I decided to go ahead and finish it when I got a sudden burst of creativity when I came home.

Nina snuggled in bed, a happy little sigh leaving her lips. Sidney looked at her, a fond smile on his face. It had been a month since they were back together and life was almost perfect. Well, they were 6-3-2, 14 points earned which was okay but not where Sidney wanted the team to be. It was still early in the season, it was mid-November so there was plenty of time to right the ship. He and the boys would fix it. Sidney sighed before attempting to try to go back to sleep. However, he heard the sound of a door opening and he sat up, pushing the covers down inadvertently.

Sidney racked his brain. It was Sunday, Marta, his housekeeper’s day off. Mario or Nathalie would have called before coming over. He had no idea who the hell it could be. “Fuck,” Sidney breathed. There were only two people who would do a surprise visit and one of them was a week earlier for the Moms trip.

Lightly brushing his fingers over Nina’s side, Sidney urged, “Pretty girl, wake up.”

It was roughly 8am so it wasn’t hard to get Nina, an early riser by nature to wake up. “Urgh, mawning,” Nina mumbled as she cracked open her eyes. Sidney looked anxious and agitated which made Nina focus.

Sidney opened his mouth, then closed it. If he was right, he was fucked and his pretty girl was probably going to run away screaming. He finally said, “Um, someone just opened the door and there are exactly five people other than me who have a key. There are two who’d do a surprise visit.”

Looking down, Nina was thankful that she had on one of Sidney’s shirts and shorts while sleeping. “Well, fuck, at least I’m not naked,” she said pointedly. Sidney had the grace to blush as Nina continued, “If it’s what you think it is, you need to get that under control,” pointing at his rather obvious morning wood. Sidney pulled the covers back over himself and Nina

Then a voice called out, “Morming, Sid!”

Sidney sighed in relief. It was Taylor, not his mom. Nina noticed it and arched an eyebrow. “Eh, it’s my sister, pretty girl.”

“Shit,” Nina fretted. This was going to be awkward, she didn’t even know if she wanted to meet his family but now, she was going to,have to. At least it was a sister.

The door creaked open and a blonde-haired head peeked in. “Boo,” Taylor said. Then her eyes perked when she saw who Sidney was with.

Nina groaned. Her hair was in a scarf, it was obvious she slept over and fuck, fuck, fuck. A devious smile spread on Taylor’s face. “Nice to see that you finally let a girlfriend sleep in your room, Sidney.”

“Shut the fuck up, Taylor,” Sidney yelled as his little sister giggled before closing the door.

Nina facepalmed. “That was fun. Fun fun fun.”

Rolling onto her front, Nina mumbled, “I’m not ready to meet your family.”

“I’ve already met yours,” Sidney reasoned.

“That was because Yanni was part of your Lil Penguins program. That was work related for you, doesn’t count.”

Trailing his fingers down Nina’s back, Sidney replied, “True but, it still counts. What are you doing next weekend?”

“I’m going to be in Philly for a wedding.”

Nina turned onto her left side, facing Sidney. Sidney sucked his bottom lip into his mouth before letting it go. “Don’t get any ideas.”

She slipped off the bed, pulling the scarf off her braids, letting them fall down her back. Rummaging through her clothes on the floor, Nina pulled out her bra. Pulling her shirt off, she put it on to the sound of Sidney’s groans. Nina rolled her eyes. “I’m stuck having to meet your sister because she decided to give you a surprise visit. I’m not meeting her without wearing a bra.”

“But you look so amazing without one,” Sidney replied.

Nina shook her head before leaving his bedroom. Making her way to the kitchen, Nina literally bumped into Taylor. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Nina gasped.

“I’m okay,” Taylor reassured Nina, taking the moment to check out this girl that Sidney was now seeing. She wasn’t exactly what Taylor was expecting but one thing that Taylor liked about Nina was that she had kind eyes. Taylor had heard about her over the years, especially that Nina had kept rejecting Sidney. Her brother rarely heard the word no so that made Nina intriguing to her.

Taylor offered, “Have you had breakfast yet?”

“No, and I’m hungry.”

Opening the fridge, Taylor took out the ingredients to make omelets. Nina sat at the island, a pensive look on her face. “You know, I totally didn’t expect to meet you this way. This is awkward as fuck.”

“Eh, don’t feel bad, I should have given Sid a heads up,” Taylor replied. “Plus, I’ve heard about you over the years.”

“Oh really?”

Taylor laughed as she cracked eggs. “Sidney couldn’t shut up about you. First it was he met this nice girl at work. Then, it was that you kept telling him no and he was confused. Later, he was beating himself up because he managed to fuck up before he could even ask you out. I really enjoyed that, I liked that you kept not only telling him no but when he pissed you off, you didn’t forgive him right away. I love my brother but his ego needs to get cut down sometimes.”

“True, he has a huge ego. He needs to take himself less seriously,” Nina concurred. “But it’s probably impossible to get him to do that.”

Taylor shrugged, pursing her lips. “At least he means well,” Nina added.

Nodding, Taylor replied, “He does mean well, most of the time.”

“Already ganging up on me?”

They both laughed as Sidney entered the kitchen. “Why are you here, Taylor?”

“I went on a camping trip and I decided to be nosy and visit my big brother before heading home,” Taylor chirped. “The look on your face was worth it.”

“Hahaha. Should’ve called,” Sidney grumbled.

Taylor quipped, “Oh, did I ruin your morning sex plans? I’m so sorry.”

Nina snorted as she laughed. Sidney gave her hurt eyes and Nina blew him a kiss.

“Don’t worry Sid, I’m not staying long. Just enough to rest and then get back on the road,” Taylor said.

“You drove,” Nina asked. Sidney was now standing right behind her and she could feel his hands massaging her shoulders.

Taylor nodded as she flipped the first omelet. “You’re not what I expected, Nina. You’re way too pretty for a hockey player like my brother.”

Sidney wanted to kill his little sister as she continued to chirp him. Well, not only chirp him but ruin his planned lazy morning sex. But as he watched his sister and Nina interact playfully, Sidney could admit there was a slight good point. Taylor and Nina were hitting it off and Sidney knew that Nina would meet his family soon. This was a good sign.

However, after practice four days later, Sidney was wishing his sister had never stopped by. Nina had been incredibly busy all week and Sidney knew he wouldn’t see her until next week due to her trip out of town. He was feeling extra irritable and hearing his name over the tv didn’t help.

“So, two weeks ago, Sidney Crosby admitted that he was having relationship issues that were affecting him on the ice.”

Tanger went to change the channel on the tv in the lounge, muttering, “Fucking ESPN.”

“Shh, keep it on,” Sidney urged, crossing his arms over his chest. He wanted to see what kind of bullshit ESPN was saying now.

A couple of the guys stopped to check out the TV. Kevin Neghandi laughed as he responded, “Yeah, he admitted that after breaking a slump. Ever since, he’s been on a 2 point-per-game streak. But this really isn’t about him.”

“Huh,” said Geno, scratching his head.

Buccigross continued, “There was a picture of Crosby and his girlfriend posted on the internet, a nice picture. Someone posted it and made a derogatory statement about his girlfriend, Nina Jackson. This player is a player for Clemson.”

Neghandi laughed again. “Ms. Jackson has a younger brother named Jason Jackson. He was also the number 20 prospect, number 1, 5 star tight end. He also now plays for UNC.”

Sidney chuckled as he realized exactly where this was going. The guy on the tv continued, “Clemson and UNC had the rare Thursday night game last night. #1 Clemson went to the Tar Heels, ranked #22 and got spanked, 56-30. Jason Jackson had 10 catches, 200 yards receiving, and 3 TDs. His response in the postgame.”

The tv showed a clip of Jason talking to the media. A reporter asked, “What inspired you to have such a big game tonight.”

“Lowell decided he needed to talk about my sister on the gram so I had to put him in his place,” Jason drawled.

Sidney’s phone buzzed and it was a message from Nina. my brother is so dramatic 🙄

Nice to know he’ll always have your back, Sidney sent Nina.

Nina smiled happily as she looked at the Thai food on plate. She was so hungry and excited to see Jamila face to face in person for lunch. Her friend looked more vibrant than usual, as life was treating her good. They made small talk until Jamila said, “I heard something about you, that you aren’t single for the first time in forever.”

“Oh really?”

Jamila looked at her best friend. “You’re dating Mayo boy.”

“What?!?” Perplexed, Nina stared at Jamila while Jamila rolled her eyes.

“Sidney Crosby is like Mayo. Super white. Damn, my dating habits really did rub off on you. Welcome to being a basic bitch like me.”

It was Nina’s turn to roll her eyes. “Stop being so fucking dramatic, Jamila Brown.”

“I was an actress, I’m supposed to be dramatic. Tell Mayo boy if he ever breaks your heart, I’ll kill and cremate whatever’s left of him after your father and brother are finished with him.”

“Are you really gonna nickname him that?”

Jamila smirked at Nina and Nina sighed. Shrugging elegantly, Jamila replied, “I’m a part of Philly sports Twitter. I got lots of other names I could call him.

“Be a bigger bitch, Mila.”

“He gets a better nickname when he lets you fully run his pockets. And don’t give me that look, don’t be afraid of being called a gold digger. They are probably calling you worse names. Make Mayo boy run that card up when he takes you on baecation. Once that happens, I’ll upgrade his nickname.”

Nina sighed as she looked at the menu. Jamila reached out and put her hand out, covering Nina’s menu. “You know I’m just playing, right?”

“I don’t want to talk about it now, let’s talk about Toyin’s wedding instead,” Nina murmured.

It was Jamila’s turn to sigh. “I’m sorry, Nina. I’m sorry for being a bitch. I shouldn’t be taking out my bad mood on you. I hate men.”

“Not forgiven yet,” Nina snarked.

Jamila looked pensive as she said, “I like this guy but I don’t want to admit I like him. He’s like too perfect, too nice, well not that nice. He actually gives a fuck.”

“Let me guess, you’re scared and about to do something super stupid,” Nina dryly replied.

Jamila gave Nina a shocked look before she slumped in her chair. “I don’t want to,” she pouted.

Nina reasoned, “Then don’t. Just ride it out for once.”

“Easy for you to say,” Jamila replied.

Nina shrugged as her phone buzzed. It was a message from Sid, well really just a picture of him sweaty post-practice. Nina left him on read, she would get him back later for that. “Stop being stupid, and stop self-sabotaging.”

Jamila rolled her eyes as she ate her food. After swallowing, she arched an eyebrow. “Mayo boy sent you a message?”

“Yeah, but I’m focusing on you. I’ll see him next week… and his parents.”

“This is going fast,” Jamila commented.

Nina bit her lip before saying, “I guess he had to wait eighty-four years, I mean five years, so he’s going to take advantage while they are in town.”

“Interesting.”

Nina pointed out, “At least I’m giving my relationships a chance, unlike you.”

“Fuck you.”

Jamila gave Nina an exaggerated nasty look as Nina quipped, “I’m strictly dickly, bitch.”

The conversation switched to safer topics. However, throughout the wedding weekend, Nina had the thought in the back of her mind that maybe things were going a bit too fast.

“Well, Taylor says she likes her. I checked out her instagram account and she doesn’t even mention you. Lots of nice vacation pictures though.”

Sidney looked at his mom from across the table. Trina had a pensive look on her face. Troy raised his eyebrows before leaning back in his chair.

Sidney reasoned, “I want you two to meet her. Give her a chance. Nina is amazing, I’m lucky that she even likes me.”

“Why wouldn’t she like you, you’re Sidney Crosby,” Trina scoffed.

Sidney shrugged. “Nina’s a PhD student and everything. It hasn’t been easy for her either.”

“Interesting,” Trina said.

Nina herself was feeling extra nervous. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to meet Sidney’s parents, especially after having to turn in a huge paper and part of her thesis to her advisor. But, as she shook her head and smoothed down her shirt, they were in town and she was going to try to make her best impression.

Midway through dinner, Nina began to wish she was somewhere else on this Friday night. While Troy, Sidney’s dad, seemed nice, it felt like Trina was judging every single thing she did. Every reply Trina made to Nina’s questions was in a dry voice, as if it was boring her. Nina felt a bit discouraged. Sidney obviously loved his parents but it felt like his mother didn’t like her.

On the other hand, Trina felt like Nina was looking down on them. It seemed like she was mentioning her PhD program, her thesis, like she was too smart for them and her boy. Trina sipped her water as there was a pause. She didn’t know about this girl but at least, every time she looked at Sidney, Trina could see the stars and hearts in her eyes.

Nina looked at Sidney, her palms sweating. She didn’t know what to say as she looked down at her plate. Her appetite was gone. Sidney, himself, didn’t really notice anything as he answered his father’s questions about the beginning of the season. Then Troy turned to Nina.

“So what do you plan to do now that you’re with Sidney,” Troy casually asked.

Nina replied, “I have about two more years left before I finish earning my PhD. I plan to continue to work and I may teach a class or two.”

“You still plan to work,” Trina asked.

Nina nodded. “Yes. I love what I do and I’m not wasting my degrees.”

“Why do you want to work?”

Nina could tell that Trina intended that question to be light but Nina could still feel the claws. She was tired of this passive-aggressive bullshit and ready to curse her out. But Nina couldn’t so she measured her words carefully. “I did four years of undergrad, three years of school for my doctors in physical therapy, and I will do four more years for my doctorate. Why would I stop working after earning my degrees?”

Trina paused; she had expected some trite, suck-up answer. But it seemed like Nina was serious. “I would think that if you were with my son, you’d rather not work.”

“I’m not built to be a housewife.” Nina laughed. “I love what I do and if I’m expected to stop for Sidney, then maybe I need to reevaluate some things.”

Trina felt like she lost control of this conversation. All she wanted was to see what kind of user her boy’s dream girl was. Now, she had the feeling that her son was going to get dumped and it was going to be her fault.

Sidney laughed. “I don’t expect you to be a housewife. You would be so bored if you were.”

Nina flashed Sidney a quick grin before adding, “Nathalie has let me know the responsibilities though. I’ve done lots of volunteer and charity work over the years so that isn’t new at all. I’m excited about the toy drive, I remember when my parents just got out of the army and cash was tight. I got my favorite doll as a kid from a toy drive.”

“That’s nice,” Trina said. Maybe this Nina girl wasn’t completely stuck up, she thought as the night continued. After a couple of hours, Nina said her goodbyes. It was getting late and she was spending the morning taking her little sister to volleyball practice. After she left, Trina let out a sigh as Sidney turned to her.

“You have to lay off on Nina, Mom.”

Trina turned to look at her son. Sidney was giving her his most serious look and she sighed.

“I like her but I don’t know if she’s the one for you, Sid. It seems like she’s one step from leaving you,” Trina said. “I don’t see her sticking with you if things go bad.”

“Just because she plans to work?”

Sidney gave his mother an assessing look. He knew she meant well but this wasn’t for her to decide. “This isn’t your problem.”

“Fine, I like that she has her own life. She’s not obsessed with you and she plans to be her own person,” Trina conceded. “But she’s different.”

He knew this was going to be hard, asking his mom to back off but Sidney knew he had to do it. Nina hadn’t said anything last night but Sidney could sense that she was tired of how his mother was acting. Sidney also knew that if Nina decided to cut ties, it would be completely over. Sidney started, “Compared to Nina, I’m a dumb hockey player. But what I have with her, I’ve never found with anyone else. If you have a problem with that, that’s you. But be civil to Nina.”

“Really, Sidney Patrick Crosby,” Trina said, incredulous. But the look on her son’s face was something she had never seen before. Even though she didn’t believe her son would really pick any woman over her, a voice at the back of her mind told her that if Sidney ever did, this would be the woman he’d pick over her.

It was Saturday night and Nina pasted another smile on her face. If Trina got snide again, Nina didn’t know if she could be nice about it. But at least they were in public. As they sat down for dinner, a couple of guys came up. Sidney and his family had perfect PR smiles but the guys stopped in front of Nina.

“Hey, aren’t you Jason Jackson’s sister?”

Nina grinned. “Yes.”

“Why did he have to have such a great game against Pitt today? He killed them,” one of the guys said.

Nina shrugged. “Pitt should play better defense.”

After the guys left, Troy asked, “your brother plays college football?”

“Yup. He was the top prospect in Pennsylvania last season. Games on tv and everything.”

“I didn’t know that,” Sidney murmured.

Nina giggled as she replied, “All you do is eat, sleep, and breathe hockey.”

Sidney blushed as everyone laughed at that statement. However, through the night, more people came by the table to give Nina props for her brother’s monster game than to try to get a glimpse of Sidney. Jason had 184 yards receiving and 2 TDs for UNC today and there was already buzz about Jason being on the fast track to the NFL. During a lull, Trina stated, “You must get asked about your brother a lot.”

“I’m used to it. Once ESPN comes to your brother’s games when he was a sophomore in high school, you have to get used to it,” Nina said with a shrug. “I’m old enough that it really doesn’t bother me.”

“How does your brother deal with it,” Sidney asked, curious as he remembered some of his early experiences with fame.

Nina replied, “College football is a different beast than the pros. So, he’s on scholarship and his days are pretty much regimented with meetings, practice, classes, more meetings, video study. I ran track when I was in undergrad so my experience was slightly similar. Main difference is that Jase gets paid for his likeness in video games now and a percentage of any jersey sales with his name and number.”

“You ran track,” Troy asked. Unlike his wife, he felt a bit more open towards Nina. It was obvious that she didn’t need Sidney for anything and Troy could see that his son was able to relax in a way with Nina that he hadn’t been able to relax with a woman before.

“I had a partial scholarship. I ran the 4x100 relay and the 100 meters. I didn’t have the athletic ability to race for a living but I did decent,” Nina stated, feeling a bit shy. It had been a long time since she even talked about her track career. “I was state champ my senior year and my team won silver at the Penn Relays my sophomore and junior years of college. Now, I just run to stay in shape.”

“Wow,” Sidney said, impressed. “Sounds like you loved it though.”

Nina flashed Sidney a grin. “I did, I love running. What most people forget is that you can’t just run for health, you have to run and do strength training and yoga or Pilates.”

“Have you been to any of your brother’s games,” Troy asked. “Seems like they are doing well.”

Nina replied, “We went to the season opener. I will never go to North Carolina in August ever again if I can help it. I’m going to their game next weekend at Virginia Tech. We’ll probably go to the bowl game since my little sister will be off school that week.”

“Seems like you stay busy,” Trina mused.

Nina couldn’t help a little glare as she managed to say without malice, “I plan my calendar in advance.”

Trina said, “That sounds good. You have a life outside of everything.”

“And I will continue to have a life outside of everything,” Nina said with a syrup-sweet smile.

Nina quietly washed her hands, glancing up to the mirror. Trina was looking down on her hands as she washed hers. Tentatively, Nina asked, “Are you having a good time on this trip?”

“I enjoyed the Moms’ trip,” Trina replied.

Nina looked down at her hands as she dried them. This was so awkward and she wanted to cry.

“Sidney Crosby is here, and so are his parents,” somebody exclaimed just outside the ladies bathroom. Trina and Nina both shared a look until another person said, “And his n-word girlfriend is here with them too.”

Nina opened her mouth but Trina put up a finger. The second person continued, “His mom doesn't look too happy with that black girl. Maybe you could get a chance, finally.”

The door opener and the two women came in, laughing. The laughter stopped when those women saw Nina and Trina.

“You don’t have to worry about getting a chance with my son because there’s no way I’d let him be with someone like you when he’s with a lady like Nina,” Trina stated.

The two women shared a look but Trina stared them down until they left. Nina let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “No wonder my son is always saying that it hasn’t been easy for you,” Trina offered. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they get kicked out.”

Nina sniffled as she said, “That’s the first time I’ve heard it in person. It’s usually nasty messages online. I really, really hate it. But I guess I’m going to be stuck with this for the rest of my life.”

Impulsively, Trina reached out and grabbed Nina’s hand. “From the way that my son looks at you, nasty women like those will just have to be angry forever.”

Nina giggled as they shared a look. It felt like there was a truce and she was going to take it. After Trina talked to the manager and got those women booted, Nina definitely felt like there was definitely a truce.

“Don’t take anything seriously. If they don’t like you, they’ll say absolutely nothing to you. If they make jokes, they like you.”

Two weeks after meeting Sid’s family, it was his turn to meet Nina’s family. The team was home for American Thanksgiving and they didn’t have a game until Friday evening this year. So Sidney was going with Nina to meet her extended family. He was feeling extra nervous and desperate to make a good impression.

Sidney grimaced as Nina giggled. “Plus, it’s Aryanna’s birthday so they won’t be too mean. I think.”

“Anything else I need to worry about,” Sidney asked.

Nina reached out over the console and touched Sidney’s hand. “Relax, it’s not a game. You can’t lose.”

“But, I want them-”

Cutting Sidney off, Nina said, “I know, you want them to like you. So be the dork that you are instead of faking like you aren’t a dork.”

Sidney felt a bit insulted but Nina gave him a dazzling smile. “I like it when you’re being dorky, anyway.”

Sidney tried hard to follow Nina’s advice. There were so many people that he couldn’t keep them all straight so he focused on making sure he remembered the names of the older people in Nina’s family. There was Mawmaw, the family matriarch, Tracey and Vernon, Nina’s parents, Aunt Tasha who baked the sweet potato pie that he was having his third slice of, Aunt Dee, Uncle Tony, and Uncle Bashir. All of the cousins kinda blurred together but Sidney figured he’d learn their names quickly.

Overall, he felt like everything was going well. Sidney answered everyone’s questions and he guessed his answers were good since one of Nina’s older cousins told him his new nickname was White Boy. Nina had snickered while some of the younger ones giggled. Right now, Sidney was talking to Aunt Tasha. “What would it take to get you to bake me a pie of my own,” Sidney asked.

Tasha laughed while Tracey smirked. Tracey interjected, “Oh no, Tasha gonna be bragging about this forever. ‘Guess who came to Thanksgiving and loved my sweet potato pie? Sidney Crosby loved my sweet potato pie.’ She will never shut up!”

“Don’t be mad that you can’t bake a pie as good as me, Tracey,” Tasha chided, laughing. “Nina makes a better pie than both of us but that girl don’t wanna cook.”

Tracey smirked when she saw the look on Sidney’s face. “Oh no, Tash, now this boy gonna be begging my daughter to make him a pie.”

Everyone laughed as Nina was in a different room. Mawmaw chided, “I’m happy that one of my family don’t got to be in the kitchen like that. I wish I could’ve been the same at her age.”

Sidney decided to scroll his phone as the older women began to argue. Then he felt someone tap his shoulder.

“White boy, you wanna play spades?”

Sidney looked at this cousin of Nina. He was sitting at a table with Vernon, one of her aunts, and another cousin. “No,” he replied, shaking his head.

The cousin got a devious grin on his face. “It’s easy, you should play for Shantara, she can’t play for shit.”

Sidney’s competitive instinct told him it was a bad idea. And from the way Vernon was eyeing him, Sidney knew he was right for shaking his head. “Nope. I’ll learn by watching.”

“Nina’s white boy smart,” Aunt Tasha hollered. “You play spades and renege, boy, someone about to go for those knees.”

“Stop torturing, Sid, Deonte,” Nina scolded as she sat in Sidney’s lap. “At least wait til the second visit before hazing him over spades.”

“I like this boy, Nini. Keep him, he’s betta than that last boy you brought here, bless his heart. Didn’t know how to talk to people,” Mawmaw advised.

Nina wanted to die as the rest of her family snickered. Holidays: the time of the year where your greatest fuckups get rehashed for shits and giggles.

Nafis snorted. “What’s his name... it wasn’t that Ron boy, was it? Naw, it was James’s old friend, Jordan. We all knew he wasn’t shit, I mean, nothing, when he made Tommy mad.”

Nina winced as remembered that. Tommy was one of the sweetest guys and hard to rile up, but anyone who could make cousin Tommy mad was a douchebag.

“Her pets like him. Tess curls in his lap and Steely lets him pet him,” Vernon said.

Everyone stared at Sidney, eyes wide. Stuttering, Aunt Tasha said, “T-t-that cat and d-dog hate every damn body other than Nini and her family. I be damned.”

Mawmaw laughed.

The rest of the dinner went without incident. But at a quiet moment, Vernon pulled Sidney from the group to a quiet spot in the yard. It was late November in Western Pennsylvania so no one else was there.

Vernon Jackson had seen more of his fair share of crap in his life. Growing up in Ward 8 of D.C., Vernon had dodged dealers, hustlers, stick-up kids, etc. to survive. His grades weren’t great so Vernon went into the army to ensure that he escaped. Through being deployed in the Gulf War then to Mogadishu, Vernon had done his best to make sure that all his children had more than he did growing up.

Now, his sweettart, his eldest, his sweet girl, Nina was grown. She had done more than he and Tracey combined. But looking at the man he was sure his daughter was in love with, Vernon began to wonder if he made a mistake.

Oh, it was obvious that Sidney Crosby was in love with his daughter. But the feelings of love could fade and given his history, Vernon couldn’t trust that Crosby would do the right thing.

So as a loving father, Vernon pulled Sidney to the side. “I just wanted to ask you something important before I give my blessing to this.”

“Yes, sir,” Sidney responded.

“You know your children will be considered Black?”

Vernon watched Sidney’s face after asking that question. Lust and infatuation was nice but this was his little girl. The last thing he wanted was his daughter hurt because she fell for someone not just clueless but maliciously clueless about race.

Sidney quietly replied, “I know. People will see them as Black and will think the worst of them first.”

Not bad, Vernon thought. He expected a colorblind response.

Then he heard Nina call out, “Dad? Sid? We are about to cut the cake!”

Vernon and Sid both grimaced but for different reasons. Vernon because he couldn’t really have cake because of his diabetes, Sid because cake wasn’t on his meal plan. Vernon told Sidney, “before you start making plans for rings, you need to start thinking about how you are going to start speaking up about race. Think about that.”

Sidney kept Vernon’s words in his mind through the week. Trina had told him what happened in the bathroom that night but Nina told him that his mom had handled it for her. But as he waited for Nina to open her door, Sidney couldn’t help but think what he could do to avoid situations like that from happening for Nina. But words failed as Nina opened the door and gave him a shy smile.

“Hi pretty girl,” Sidney drawled as he walked in, closing the door. He hung up his coat on her coat rack before sitting on Nina’s couch.

“I missed you daddy”

“Missed you, pretty girl. Did you have fun?”

Nina straddled Sid’s thigh and replied, “it was a good time even though UNC lost. The VT campus is beautiful. How was the road trip?”

Sid laughed as Nina played with his hair. “It went well but Geno got hurt. He’ll be out for two weeks.”

“That sucks.”

Sidney hummed his assent as he wrapped an arm around Nina’s waist. He missed his pretty girl and it seemed like she missed him too. They sat there together for several quiet moments before Nina whispered, “I really missed you, daddy. It’s been too long.”

Sidney gave Nina a slow smile as she began to grind on his thigh. He felt the same way as he kissed Nina, soft and slow. Then as they broke apart, the sensual haze on Nina’s face turned into horror. “God damn it,” she muttered.

Sidney frantically asked, “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I just felt my period show up, three days early,” Nina said, rubbing her temples. Her period was cock-blocking her after a couple weeks of no dick and she wanted to die. “I just felt cramps and as much as I’d like to slide to my knees and suck you off, it won’t happen tonight.”

Nina groaned as she closed her eyes, head down. Sidney just started to laugh.

“Cmon, pretty girl. Let’s just watch movies tonight.”

“Movies sound good,” Nina replied, “I just refuse to watch Friends, ever.”

Sidney giggle-honked as Nina moved from straddling his thigh to curling into his lap.

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale

An Advent Calendar of 24 Normal Human Tasks As Performed By A Huge Man Baby.

Day 1: The Case Of The Mysterious Shrinking Sweater.

Warnings: Bad Language words

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: So this all came about as myself, @sweater-daddiesdumbdork and @jennmurawski13 saw a post about Ransom doing everyday things…and yeah, it kinda spiralled. The series will consists of one-shots and drabbles, all light hearted…and the occasional little bit of smut thrown in for your pleasure and we hope a nice countdown to Christmas after what has been an utter shit-show of a year.

We will be taking it in turns to alternate posting so keep your eyes peeled for the next instalments as they arrive. I’ll be re-blogging and tagging my list.

Series Masterlist.

People say that being pregnant was an enjoyable experience, that you glowed and bloomed. But right now the only thing blooming was the feeling of nausea in the pit of your stomach. You lay still, hoping that it would go away, but as usual it didn’t. Swinging your legs off the side of your huge bed, you hurried barefoot over the plush carpet of the bedroom you shared with your husband before dropping with a thud to the floor of the en-suite, emptying the contents of your stomach into the porcelain bowl of the toilet. You repeated the motion again and again until you were retching dry air, your eyes watering, throat stinging and you let out a little sob.

At almost 22 weeks pregnant, this was ridiculous. The whole morning sickness was supposed to have eased off by now, but not for you. Oh no. Mind you, what else were you to expect given that you were expecting his baby.

The spawn of Satan…

“Y/N?” your husband’s deep baritone hit your ears and you turned to look up at him as he stood in the doorway, clad only in his boxers. Strong thighs gave way to a tapered waist, a flat yet slightly soft stomach ran into the hard planes of chest muscle and sculpted arms from years of playing polo (God forbid the asshole do any other form of manual exercise, well apart from the obvious one that got you into this mess in the first place that is). Broad shoulders stretched either side of a strong neck which supported that damningly handsome face with the jawline that could cut glass and those deep blue eyes that had ruined your panties the first time you’d seen them.

Hugh Ransom Drysdale was a beautiful bastard. And he knew it.

“You ok?” he asked. You narrowed your eyes before a fresh wave of nausea hit you and you retched once more.

“Do I look ok?” you shot back, sinking back onto your heels, wiping at your face. You felt Ransom move from the doorway and then heard the tap running.

“Here.” One hand settled between your shoulder-blades, the other handed you a glass of water as Ransom knelt besides you, his blue eyes bearing the warmth that he reserved only for you. You took the drink without a thanks, the usual sarcasm he would display at such an action remained unsaid as you drained the glass and passed it back. “Can I do anything else?”

“Fast forward to January next year so the baby’s here?” you grumbled “I can’t take another damned 4 months or whatever of this, Ransom!”

“Sorry Princess.” He chuckled, “I can’t help you there.” “I hate you.”

“So you keep saying.” He shrugged “But the fact you’re pregnant with my son…kinda proves that you don’t.”

“We were drunk. Besides, hate fucking is a thing.”

“Is hate marrying?”

“Yup.” You nodded. “I only married you so I could divorce you for your money.”

“Well that was almost 2 years ago so why you still here?” he drawled back and you looked at him, snorting as a smirk spread across his face before he tossed his head slightly to throw back the strands of his hair that had fallen forward over his forehead “Thought so.”

“Asshole.”

With a roll of his eyes Ransom helped you to your feet, glancing down at your chest, your swollen breasts visible down the front of your camisole top. His eyebrow arched a little as he raised his head to meet your eyes and you snorted.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Oh come on baby!” he whined, his hands falling to your hips, pushing up the silk of the top you were wearing, his thumbs skating over the curve of your bump “You know what seeing you like this does to me.”

“Seeing me like what? Red faced with puke in my hair?”

“Yeah the puke not so much.” He wrinkled his face, “But I can think of an arrangement here that could potentially eliminate that particular issue.”

“You’re not fucking me in the shower.” You shook your head.

“But…”

“No buts Ransom.” You looked at him as he glared back, his face now wearing the usual petulant expression he bore when he didn’t get his own way “Stop being a brat. I’m up now and I got stuff to do.”

“Yeah? Like what?” he folded his arms. You gave a groan of exasperation.

“I have a conference call with my boss at midday…”

“It’s a Saturday.”

“I know that, but we have a big case…”

“You don’t need to work, tell him to fuck off.”

As usual you ignored Ransom’s dig about your job. He could never understand why you insisted on keeping your role as a Legal Secretary, but then again what was to be expected from the trust fund Man-Baby who had never worked a day in his life. “And there’s a pile of laundry to do.”

“I don’t know why you won’t let me hire a maid….”

“I don’t WANT A FUCKING MAID!” you exploded. Ransom’s eyebrows shooting upwards slightly was the only reaction to your shouting that he gave. “This is our home...”

“Well with the baby on the way, maybe you might want to reconsider that stance.”

“Or maybe you could start pulling your weight.” You jabbed him in his chest. He glanced down at your finger, his eyebrow arched as he looked back at you.

“Pulling my weight?”

“Yes.”

“Exactly how?”

“I dunno…how about you start performing those little real life tasks that normal people do Ransom? You know, the laundry, cleaning the bathroom, loading the dishwasher, making the bed, cooking breakfast or dinner…”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He scoffed and you groaned “You know I can’t cook.”

“How do you think I learned?” you shook your head, before rubbing at your temple. “I practiced.”

“Yeah, not gonna happen Princess.”

“What a surprise” you shrugged “God forbid Hugh Ransom Drysdale get his hands dirty.”

“Don’t fucking call me that.” He snapped and you snorted. Of all the names you called him, it was his actual name that riled him so much. It was ridiculous, but also too good an opportunity to pass up. He was an asshole at times, and you took none of his shit. You never had done, not since that fateful day you met in that lecture hall at Harvard some 10 years or so ago. Truth be told, he’d often admitted it was the fact you gave him nothing but shit, called him out and basically ignored him for 6 months, despite the fact that you desperately wanted him to do very rude things to you. Your ambivalence provided him with a challenge and he pursued you with a dogged determination which you eventually gave in to towards the end of your first year of Study.

“Why not?” you shrugged, deciding to poke the bear a little more because, well, you could…that and you kind of enjoyed watching that vein pop in his neck when he was pissed “Isn’t that what the help call you? I mean I might as well be your help all things considered.”

“You’re my fucking wife.” Ransom spoke through grit teeth, his jaw set, neck strained (ah, there was that vein!)

“Well here’s a novel idea.” You smiled up at him “Why don’t you start acting like I am instead of some glorified housekeeper that you fuck and keep in your bed.”

“Ok, I’m gonna let that slide due to hormones.” Ransom’s hands fell to his hips.

“You’re gonna let it slide?” you scoffed

“Yes.”

“Whatever.” You took a deep breath “Now get out I need a shower.”

“So….just so we’re on the same page, you don’t want me to-“

“NO RANSOM!” you growled, shoving his chest. He sniggered, stepped back with his hands up, palms open as he backed out of the door, closing it behind him.

*****

Ransom could hear Y/N’s voice as it drifted softly through the closed door of the study into the hallway and he rolled his eyes. Her boss was a jerk, making her call in at midday on a fucking weekend, all because he was too incompetent to cope himself. She should be curled up on the sofa, watching junk, eating crap, wearing nothing but one of his sweaters. She’d been looking for her favourite one before, cursing when she’d realised it was in the laundry hamper and mumbling about how she’d pop it into the machine later.

“How about you start performing those little real life tasks that normal people do Ransom? You know, do the laundry…”

Ransom paused by the stairs, before he smirked a little. “Oh you’re gonna eat your words, Princess.” He mumbled, before he bolted upstairs and into their bedroom, through to the en-suite. Tipping the hamper up on its side he looked down at the pile of clothes and frowned. Y/N normally sorted them into separate piles, but he wasn’t sure how…or why now he thought about it.

Fuck it, there was nothing google couldn’t solve.

He soon found out, thank you Housewives Online, that they needed to be sorted according to colours. Whites, brights and darks. So, as his sweater was blue it could go in the colours pile. He nudged the other two piles to the side of the room with his foot before he gathered the one he wanted in his arms, wrinkling his nose at the fact he actually had dirty clothes in his hands and made his way downstairs. He wandered through the kitchen and into the utility room at the back, before he stuffed the items into the machine and then looked around for the detergent. He found it on a shelf over the back of the room along with the fabric softener. Grabbing them both he then paused as he realised he didn’t actually know where it went.

Okay, so this had to be a process of elimination. He pulled open the little drawer on the front and smirked as he noticed the sections were labelled.

“Piece of cake.” He poured in what he deemed enough of each and then shut it, before he looked at the digital dials on the front.

“For fucks sake…” he grumbled, punching a few buttons. Eventually the display kicked in, offering him a one hour-thirty hot wash.

“Well, who washes clothes in cold water?” he shrugged, pressing the green button. As he stood back the machine kicked into life and Ransom nodded, congratulating himself, before he decided he’d earned himself a beer.

****

“Son of a…” you heard the curse as you opened the door to the study and frowned. Whilst your call had lasted a little longer than it should have, surely Ransom couldn’t have gotten himself into that much trouble in the space of two hours. You followed his string of expletives down the hall, through the kitchen and into the laundry room to find Ransom holding what looked like a smaller version of his sweater in his hands.

“What are you doing?” you frowned.

“Singing a duet with Beyonce, what does it look like I’m doing?” he snapped.

“It looks like you’re doing laundry.” You ignored his shitty comment and arched an eyebrow, one hand falling to your small bump.

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“Where did you get that little…” you trailed off as you realised that it wasn’t a smaller version of his gorgeous navy blue, soft woolly number in his hands, it WAS his gorgeous navy blue, soft woolly number “You shrunk your sweater?” He glared at you as you started to laugh “Oh my god, you dumbass!”

“It wasn’t me it was that fucking shitty machine.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the machine.”

“Well why did it shrink then?”

“What programme did you put it on?”

“Programme?” he frowned “I just turned it on.”

With a sigh you rubbed at your temple “There are different settings depending on what you’re washing.” You stated “That’s wool. It should have been on a cool cycle.”

Ransom looked at the item in his hand and you watched as his shoulders sagged a little. “I wanted it to be nice and clean for you to wear later.” He sighed as he peeked up at you, a strand of hair falling over to his brow. Your heart instantly melted, little gestures like this from him meant the world as it was his way of showing he cared. He could buy you all the expensive shit in the world but these were the little things you craved.

“Oh baby!” you chuckled as you stepped forward, leaning up to kiss his cheeks. “It was a nice thought…” you took the sweater off him and looked at it “But even I don’t think I’ll fit into that. It’s tiny.”

Ransom looked at it before his face suddenly curled into a smile “Baby boy tiny?”

You let out a laugh “Maybe not baby boy tiny, but little child boy tiny, sure.”

“We’ll save it for him then.” He said, tossing it down into the basket of wet items that needed to be dried. “His first hand-me-down.”

You smiled as his hands dropped to your hips and pulled you closer. “You’re a big softy really, aint you?” you reached up to brush that stubborn strand of hair back of his forehead and he shrugged before he grinned, rocking his pelvis forward.

“I won’t be soft for long.” His head dropped and he nipped at your ear “Let me show you what Husband chore I’m actually good at.”

#real life tasks with ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale fic

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rachelkaser · 2 years

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Masonry Monday: The Case of the Sulky Girl

A headstrong young woman wants her trust fund released from her controlling uncle. When the uncle turns up dead, her boyfriend is the prime suspect.

Who’s Who

Perry Mason’s client: Rodney Gleason, the beau of a young heiress being controlled by her misanthropic uncle

The victim: Edward Norton, the heiress’s uncle, who believes she’s not ‘emotionally stable’ enough to handle her own affairs

Suspects: Fran Celane, the aforementioned headstrong heiress, who wants to get married against her uncle’s wishes Clara Mayfield, the housekeeper, who helped raise Fran and who is distraught to see her battling with her uncle Donald Graves, Norton’s personal secretary, who bears the brunt of his bad temper after fights with his niece Arthur Crinston, Norton’s lawyer, who is forced to bow to his demanding behavior but who sympathizes with Fran Judge Brian C. Purley, a friend of Crinston’s who is caught up in the case despite just wanting to listen to the fights

The Setup

In a large estate house, the groundskeeper hears a loud argument through an open window. It’s Fran Celane, a young heiress, arguing with her uncle Edward Norton. Their fight is vicious as they insult each other, with Fran finally running out of his office in a fury. The maid, Clara, chases after her to calm her down. A lawyer named Crinston arrives and meets with Norton’s secretary, Graves, who says Norton will be very perturbed after the fight.

In Fran’s room, she’s packing her purse in a hurry. Clara tries to tell her to just bear her uncle’s tyranny a while longer, but Fran won’t be condescended to either. She storms out of the house -- even Crinston tries to calm her, but she isn’t having it. She almost drives over the groundskeeper on the way out. Graves informs Crinston that Norton can’t see him now and to come back later that night. Crinston has an appointment with a Judge at 10, so he’ll be there at 11.

Fran arrives at Perry’s office and barges right past Gertie, the receptionist. She surprises Perry and Della, who are in the middle of researching for a case, and says she needs help immediately. Perry sits her down and tells her to describe the situation. She says her late father created a spendthrift trust for her, naming her uncle as absolute trustee. He has control over her money for the rest of her life, and she wants to break it as she feels he’s being unreasonable.

There’s another wrinkle: Fran wants to get married, but her uncle won’t allow it until she’s 25. She’s 23 now, and Perry asks why she can’t wait. Fran doesn’t answer, and Perry and Della exchange a significant look. Perry says he’ll take a day to check on things and get back to her. On her way out, she apologizes to them both for her attitude and says she’s just upset. After she goes, Perry notes to Della that Fran’s sulkiness is a mask for her fear.

DELLA: *coming from the law library carrying several heavy books* This is all I could find, chief. PERRY: Well if it isn’t in those, Della, we’d better drop it. *Della drops the books loudly onto the desk*

Back at the estate, Norton chastises Clara for undermining him to Fran, just as she did to Fran’s father when he hired her 10 years ago. Clara protests that someone had to take care of Fran when she was a little girl, but Norton says that anymore encouragement to Fran, and Clara is gone. Clara says that she loves Fran and she doesn’t want to leave. Perry meets up with Paul, who gives the information he found on Fran: Besides the fact her mother died when she was 12, she hasn’t got the cleanest record.

Five years previous, when Fran was 18, she disappeared for a week and turned up in Florida, in the company of an anonymous bellhop. Paul says she’s recently been seen hanging out with an artist named Rodney Gleason. The next visit is to Rod’s studio. Mason probes him for information on Fran, who Rodney says he’s only known for a short time. Mason spots a painting of Florida and asks Rod when he was there. Rod says five years ago, while working his way through art school -- as a bellhop.

That’s when Mason says he has a hunch about something: He thinks Rod and Fran got married during that week when she was 18, and her father created the trust to try and separate them. Rod tries to usher Mason out, but Fran emerges from the backroom. She apologizes for holding out on Mason, and confirms that she and Rod have been married for five years. Mason also had a second hunch about why she’s so desperate to break the trust now and not wait until she’s 25. Smiling, he says he hopes it’s a boy.

Later, Mason meets with Norton at the estate. Mason tries to make Norton see he’s being unreasonable, and 25 is no more wise or ready for marriage than 23, especially if Fran continues in the circumstances she’s living in. Norton, however, will not budge and tells Mason to leave. On the way out, Perry tells Fran what happened, making her scream in frustration and hatred. Later, Paul reports to Perry that Norton may be an asshole, but he’s squeaky clean.

The Murder

Sometime in the night, Rod arrives at the estate and leaves his car outside the gate. He sneaks onto the property, narrowly missing Judge Purley’s car when he arrives with Crinston. The latter leaves Purley listening to the fights on the car radio while he goes to see to Norton. Graves is upset and notes that Crinston’s slight tardiness has made Norton irritated. Rod disappears into the house.

Around that time, the local police precinct gets a call. A deputy picks it up, and Norton demands help. The deputy warily tells the sergeant who’s calling and hands the phone over. The sergeant hears that Fran has threatened Norton, and the voice demands protection. Back at the house, Crinston emerges from the house and rejoins Judge Purley in the car just as the fight is wrapping up. Suddenly a voice calls out from the house to Crinston, and Crinston asks the Judge to turn the radio down.

The voice demands that Crinston take Graves to pick up some papers, despite the late hour. Crinston wearily asks the Judge if he’ll drive them, and the Judge agrees. Graves exits the house and piles into the car with the other two men, who bemoan the demands of Norton. Halfway down the driveway, Graves offers to put Crinston’s briefcase in the backseat. As he turns, he suddenly shouts that he saw a man in Norton’s office sneak up behind him and hit him on the head.

In Perry’s office, it’s midnight, and he shakes awake a snoozing Della. She tells him that he’s going above and beyond for a case that’s out of his usual purview, which is murder. Fran dramatically arrives and says that it’s a murder case now. Back at the estate, Tragg is supervising the crime scene investigation. Graves recounts how he saw someone come up behind Norton, and Judge Purley corroborates the exact timing. Mason wonders aloud to Fran if Graves will be able to identify the person he saw.

In private, Fran protests that Rod did not kill her uncle, but she’s afraid Mason won’t defend him if she tells him the full details. He urges her to tell him. Rod was at the estate to help her move her things to his apartment. But he insisted on having it out with her uncle before he left. Perry tells her to rest, then goes to question Rod. He says that he heard voices in the office, so waited in the garden for a few minutes. When he entered the study, Norton was already dead, and he ran. Mason says Burger’s going to have a field day with this case.

Sometime later, Burger is at the estate with Graves. They’re running an exact conditions test to see how well he could have witnessed events from so far away. Burger has him identify three police officers who are in the study, in the exact same position as the man he allegedly saw. Graves is able to successfully identify the correct officer three times from 147 feet away at night. Burger is confident he’s a solid eyewitness, and tells Tragg to keep the test quiet. Paul, meanwhile, watches from his car, hidden in the bushes.

Paul reports the results of the test to Perry, who says that now he can’t impugn Graves’ testimony now. Sometime later, Paul arrives at Tragg’s office. Tragg invites him to flick rubberbands at a tiny Perry Mason figure, which Paul does with enthusiasm. While they’re playing, Tragg says he saw Paul’s car at the estate, and he insinuates Paul could lose his license. But Burger’s thought of a better use for him: Paul will testify to the veracity of Graves’ exact conditions test, as no one could ever accuse him of being in the DA’s pocket.

The Trial

Rod is bound over for trial, his preliminary hearing having apparently not gone well. Paul says the case looks bad, and he hasn’t been able to produce anything helpful. Perry does urge him to look into Norton’s financial. At the trial proper, Burger gives his opening statement to the jury while Mason waives their opening statement. Burger calls Judge Purley to the stand, who gives very precise testimony Perry does pull one important fact from him: The Judge never spoke to or saw Norton while the latter was alive.

Burger then calls Sergeant Wilbur of the Laurelwood police to the stand, who testifies to what he heard on the phone call they received from the Norton estate. Mason quickly points out a flaw in his testimony: He didn’t actually pick up the phone or hear Norton’s first words, but the other officer did. Mason moves that Wilbur’s testimony be stricken as Burger has not laid a proper foundation for it. Burger summons the detective and calls Crinston to the stand.

Crinston testifies to his movements on the night. Mason asks why he was at the house, and Crinston says it was to advise Norton on his financial matters. Mason suspends his testimony and asks Della for Paul’s report on Norton’s finances. Burger calls Graves to the stand for his eyewitness testimony, and Mason doesn’t cross-examine at the moment, saying he might wish to recall him later.

Officer Frank Delaney is called to the stand to lay the proper foundation for Sergeant Wilbur’s testimony. The officer testifies what he heard Norton say when he first answered the phone, including the phrase, “This is Edward Norton.” On cross-examination, Mason points out that the only reason Wilbur thought he was speaking to Norton was because Delaney told him that’s who it was, not because he recognized the voice. He nevertheless allows Wilbur’s testimony to stay on the record.

Next on the stand is Clara, who testifies that she saw Crinston and Graves leave the study and Rod go in. Mason asks her why she didn’t stay to keep an eye on the situation, as Clara knew that Rod might argue with Norton. She says it was in divine hands at that point, and Perry quickly gets frustrated as she keeps bringing up her religion on the stand. He also asks her about an important number while looking out into the audience: 67,585.

At this point, Mason decides to raise a new point in court: The prosecution is preoccupied with what everyone saw the night of the murder, but the more important thing is what they heard...

In Summation

First, a bit of housekeeping: I was originally going to use a five-point scale to rate this series, but after some reflection I think a four-point scale should work better. I have a very particular reason for using a five-point scale in my Stay Golden Sunday posts, which I’ll talk about in a few weeks. But that’s not the case with Masonry Monday, so from now on things will be done on a four-scale system.

Whoo boy, this episode is a tough one. I don’t necessarily dislike anything in this episode, but I don’t think it hangs together well, either from a legal standpoint or a storytelling one. Even the title is a little off: Fran is the “sulky girl” of the title, but “sulky” means “moodily silent.” Fran is anything but silent -- the very first thing we see her do is yell. This kind of sets the tone of the episode, which has an interesting story hook but fails to deliver on it, at least in my opinion.

Let’s start with the victim and his niece. We’re never given an explanation for just why Norton is such an asshole to Fran, or why he repeatedly insists that a 23-year-old woman needs “discipline,” except . . . well, that he’s an asshole. He’s not our most complex victim, for sure. But part of me wonders if he’s right. Fran’s got secretly married at 18 after running away from home (winding up in a Walter Winchell column, no less) and now her plan for getting her money from her uncle is to scream at him until he gives in?

Both Perry and Clara urge her to be reasonable, which in this case means waiting to turn 25 and her uncle will be more amenable to turning the estate over to her. Given that she’s pregnant, that won’t work, but my alternative is: Why not just tell her uncle everything? He can’t hold marriage in front of her as a carrot if she’s already married, and he can hardly ignore or dismiss a baby. Maybe her uncle has a point about her not being quite grown up enough to handle these things.

Onto the case: I can’t help but find this whole thing a bit absurd. I’m going to skirt very close to spoiler territory here, but this murder involves no small amount of subterfuge and bamboozling innocent witnesses. It’s never made clear if it was all planned or if the murderer made things up on the fly, but either way, I’m not buying this one.

For one thing, the prosecution’s case depends entirely on an eyewitness account that could never hold up in a real court. A man claims to be able to accurately identify someone from over 60 yards away, through a shaded window, while the person is facing away from him? Yeah, I don’t buy it, and I don’t see why Burger does either. The scene with the exact conditions test just feels like a lot of hooey.

Also, I don’t see why Burger would subpoena Paul to be a witness to the test, given that Paul was too far away to be able to accurately recount everything that happened. We do get to see Paul driving his slick Thunderbird, and also he’s got a cool Dick Tracy caricature on his desk, autographed by Tracy’s creator, Chester Gould (your eyes have to be sharp, but it’s there). It’s fun to see him have a moment of camaraderie with Tragg, of all people, but I wish Tragg weren’t threatening him: Paul didn’t break any laws or do anything that would get his license taken away.

On a better note, we get the first appearance of Connie Cezon as Gertie, Perry Mason’s receptionist. She made several brief appearances in the series, and her character is basically what you see in this episode: She’s a foil to Della, a bit nervy and fluttery while Della is calm and collected. While pleasant, she’s clearly not equipped to deal with Mason’s more headstrong clients, ineffectually chasing Fran when she barges in. It’s okay, though: It takes all sorts, and there can only be one Della Street.

The Verdict

Judgement: ⚖️ (one scale out of four) Perry handles himself well, casting doubt on the witness testimony. It’s the prosecution who fumbles this week, as it never should have been put forth in court in the first place.

#masonry monday #perry mason #paramount plus #della street #the case of the sulky girl #paul drake #s01e05

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babylooneytoonz · 4 years

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Sweet Temptations - Tommy Shelby x Fem! Reader

A/N- So I really hadn't expected to get this one done so early. But here we go, I am done and I'm not sure if it's any good.

Summary- (Y/N) is a married woman, stuck in a loveless, unhappy marriage with one of Thomas Shelby's rivals who mistreats her and abuses her. She embarks on this forbidden affair with him.

Read part-2 here.

Warnings- MAJOR SMUT MAYBE? Porn without plot? Read it at your own risk.

Requested by- @peakyfooky

Thank you to the creators for their lovely GIFs. These aren't mine. One of them was found on the internet so if it's yours, let me know and I'll credit you❤️

"Mrs. Button?" Your housekeeper stepped into the library of your mansion, her eyes trained on you. You were perched on an armchair, a book spread out on your lap, your finger holding a lit cigarette as you brought it up to your lip, the dried gash on your bottom lip burning slightly every time you tried to speak, so you just motioned to her to come in.

"Mr. Button requests your presence in his study."

You nodded, shutting the book and standing up, stubbing the cigarette into the ashtray and placing the book back on the rack from where you had pulled it out. You wondered what that vile, evil man who your parents had married you off to, for money, was upto now.

You were twenty four, married to this man for two years and still childless, because he was more into filthy street whores than he was into you. But you were okay with it. You would have felt worse if he had wanted your body.

Wrapping your arms around your body and rubbing the sides of your arms, you walked down the well lit hallway, towards the mahogany door that smelt like cigarettes and booze from a distance. You placed yourself by the door and knocked, hearing a grunt from inside. You stepped in, your eyes falling on the vile creature that sat lounged over the desk, his feet sprawled up on the desk, his baloon belly evident from underneath the layer of rich fabric that made up his shirt.

"Where were you last night eh? The maids fucking tell me you went out."

You bit the insides of your cheeks– there was nothing you wanted to do more than to slap the smug look from his face but the fresh gash from two days back still reminded you of what kind of a sick, twisted fuck he was.

"We were out of bread so I– "

"So I what? When I've given you twelve fucking maids to do these things for you, why do you insist on still going out? To whore yourself to men? Why?"

"Seriously, Michael– "

Before you could even reply, he had grabbed the nearest object on his desk, a tiny round decorative item that he had brought from his trip to America and thrown it towards you. Maybe they were your reflexes, but you found yourself ducking at the right time, the tiny object slamming into the wall behind you and breaking into many tiny pieces.

"You fucking bitch." He hissed,licking over his malignant, yellow teeth when there was a knock on the door.

"What the fuck do you want eh?" He yelled, his eyes not moving from yours as now you stood in a corner, your hands curled into fists, kneading into the fabric of your dress as anger coursed through you like lava.

The door opened and one of your husband's henchmen stepped in.

"Boss, Thomas Shelby's here."

Thomas Shelby– the striking blue eyed devil– the only one that managed to irk your husband beyond capacity, that one reason you were thankful to him for. Your husband was so busy planning and plotting to get this Thomas Shelby out of the picture, he didn't focus that much on you, for which you were grateful for.

"Bring the bastard in, of course." Your husband pursed his lips, his eyes flying to you. "Get us a drink now."

"I thought you had twelve fuckin' maids to do this for you." You spat angrily, moving to the liquor cabinet when the door finally opened and the atmosphere in the room changed and the wafting fragrance of a man's eu de cologne spread through your nostrils, a warm welcoming fragrance, that reminded you of anything but your husband's sweaty stink. The man that walked in was a handsome one, a cap placed over his side shaven head, his long coat flowing in after him. He had a cigarette in his grip. If you didn't know better, you wouldn't think this man was dangerous.

"Mr. Button, I see you accepted to meet me at such a short notice eh."

"Sit down, Mr. Shelby. I hear you have a proposition for me."

It was as though you were invisible in a corner but it was your husband's words that pulled you put of your concentrated stare on the man that had just walked in.

"What you fuckin' doing there eh? Can we bloody have our drinks?"

Mr. Button's directed gaze towards you caused the handsome stranger's head to snap towards you and that's when your eyes met his icy, blue ones, and unknowingly, you parted your lips, letting your tongue slide out and moisten your lower lip. There was something electrifying about the eyes; an imaginary pull that seemed to be binding you to him.

Quietly, you walked up to the men, placing your drinks on the desk for either of them and looked up at your husband.

"Can I do anything else for you, dear husband?" You said, sarcastically.

"Yes, just fuck off."

"Gladly." You muttered under your breath, taking a step away to turn towards the door, but not without sharing one last lingering glance with Thomas Fuckin' Shelby.

• ───━━━━─ ● ─━━━━─── •

You could hear the men screaming from your bedroom but you couldn't care. In fact, a part of you found thrill in an imagination that maybe, a bad scuffle will take place and somehow, your husband will be killed in action. You had just stepped out of the shower, wearing nothing but an almost sheer negligee, a towel wrapped around your head and a loose fitting robe that hadn't been knotted up in the center. You could hear the sound of the motorcar from your window so out of curiousity, you walked up to the window and fixed yourself to it.

You could see the leader of the Peaky Blinders get into his motorcar with the men that had accompanied him, the car slowly pulling off the driveway. You bit your lip, too hard, drawing out blood, the metallic taste spreading in your mouth. You wanted him to look up at the window once and as if he had read your thoughts, his eyes flew up to the window, catching you staring at him. You didn't realize why, but a smile broke out against your lip, your palm latching to the glass pane of the window, as you watched him drive away.

It was almost two minutes later when you heard the sound of the motorcar again, and this time when you looked, relief spread through you when you saw your husband and a few of his men leave in their cars. At least now you had the house to yourself, atleast for a few hours. Usually when he left around midnight, he wasn't back until 9 or 10 the next morning.

You took off the towel, drying off your wet hair that were now clinging to your body, droplets of water running down your neck. You wrapped the robe around your frame, pulling out a cigarette from the box and lighting it as you stepped out of your room and walked down the hallway to the library on the ground floor– the only room in this godforsaken mansion that didn't feel alien to you– the only room that you found yourself spending most of your time in.

The minute you stepped into the hallway, a shiver ran down your spine as the chilly wind hit you, causing you to realize that the connecting door to the garden from the library was wide open.

"Hello? Janice? Is that you?" You called out, hoping to find your housekeeper trot inside, with a broom in her hand but no one answered. So, shrugging your shoulders in an incoherent manner, you walked up to the glass door, bolting it shut from the inside when you heard it, the unmistakable sound of a footstep creaking against the wooden floorboards somewhere, in the library, with you.

A sudden fear gripped you, you knew your husband had many, many enemies and it wouldn't be unusual for one of the crazy ones to have sneaked into your home and was now hiding in the library, somewhere, alone with you. You quickly grabbed a candlestick, curling your fingers tighter against the iron, taking a small, yet cautious step towards the library. Your eyes scanned the book racks, trying to spot anyone hiding in between them, your mind alert when suddenly, you saw him.

He was just a shadow, lurking in a dark corner at the back of your library, shielded by the last book rack, but you could see that he was facing you.

"I can see you, you know." You murmured in your husky voice, ready to strike him with the candlestick when he finally stepped out from the dark, into the light, your eyes now adjusting to see who he was.

"You." Was all you could manage to say, your heart suddenly palpitating, your knees already feeling like jelly. There stood the man you had secretly been sharing glances with all day, right in front of you, within your arms reach.

"My husband's not here, Mr. Shelby, this visit of yours is very inappropriate." You commented, half heartedly, meaning no word of it.

"Yet you made no fuss, Mrs. Button. When you could have screamed and alerted everyone in your home." Thomas Shelby's lips held the slightest of smirks against its corners, but his eyes were emotionless and bland.

You didn't loosen your grip over the candlestick, your eyes following every movement that the man made, as you saw him pull out his box of cigarettes and nip one between his teeth. His other hand moved to the pocket of his coat, pulling out a box of matches but somehow, it fell from his hand and fell to the floor, settling right in between you and him.

You took a step closer, your eyes still on him as you bent and grabbed the box, before he could. You then pulled out a match, lighting it and stepped closer towards him to help him light the end of his stick, his features appearing even more glorious under the pale flickering light of the match.

"I saw you leave in your car."

"You should be more careful with that door." He pointed towards the back entrance of your library that led to the garden. "Any lad can get in through the back and not all of them will be here for– "

"For what, Mr. Shelby?" You cut him off abruptly.

You could feel a weird, tingly sensation in your fingers. You wanted to reach out and hook your fingers on the fabric of his coat, take it off. So you did. His eyebrow shot up in surprise for he hadn't expected you to be so forward. You tugged slightly on his coat and smiled, "We have a fireplace in here that should be warm enough, Mr. Shelby, I don't think you'll need your coat. May I?"

You helped him slide out of his coat first before holding it in your hands and making your way to the coat hanger and hanging it over. Your eyes fell on the library door and like a stealthy cat, you quickly swiped the door shut, trying to hide this little whatever this was from the employees of your house.

"Care for a drink Mr. Shelby?"

He hummed in response, his eyes fixed on you, moving slightly lower and then back up again. It was funny how this one act of vulgarity didn't seem to phase you, and in fact you even liked it. You slowly turned away from him, walking up to the other side of the room, your bare feet grazing against the carpeted floor on this side. You pushed yourself up on your toes, trying to pull out the bottle of whiskey from the cabinet, making sure to give him a good view of you from behind. Your fingers clasped against the neck of the bottle as you pulled it down from the top rack and poured it carefully into two glasses, taking them back to him.

He gladly accepted the drink, his fingers almost brushing with yours when he took the glass, causing shivers to run down your spine. You knew it– the game that he was playing – intentionally touching you so very subtly, knowing how you were actually enjoying the flirting.

"What's a woman of your likes doing with a man like him?"

You could sense the distaste behind his words so you just parted your lips and let out a weak sigh before taking a sip of your whiskey.

"Call it a punishment for being born into a greedy family. Sold me off to the monster for some good pounds like I was a mare." You commented.

"Why didn't you run away? You could have gone to London, or even to America."

"It's not that easy, not when you're married to a gangster. You out of all men should understand that." You said, relishing the bitter yet sweet taste of the whiskey on your taste buds.

"Mr. Shelby, enough about me. I wanted to know the reason for your visit. I know you're not here to meet Michael." You slurred.

You saw the man's eyebrow twitch but you couldn't determine if it was out of amusement or something else. After a lingering minute of silence, you watched as he downed the whiskey in one go, almost slamming the glass back against one of the racks.

"Can we skip past the formalities now, Mrs. Button? I think you know why I am here."

You couldn't deny it. You and this man had a sizzling chemistry. There was a raw desire spurting inside you, that wanted nothing more to be satiated. You could feel it– the sexual tension, the need to touch each other, the need to feel him touch you at places you had forgotten how a man's touch felt like.

You nodded.

Thomas Shelby's hands grabbed you, his hands locking around your waist as he pulled you into his embrace and slowly turned around, so you were now pinned against the rack, his front pressing into you. You could feel his slow, ready grinding against your core, causing your body to erupt into a sensation of desires, like small electric short circuits everywhere. You parted your lips and let out a low moan, only to be shut up when his lips slammed against yours in a needy way. You were a believer, a devout Christian by faith, you knew the temptations the Devil was capable of and you knew that Thomas Shelby was nothing more than the devil in disguise. But this didn't deter you from wanting to taste into the fruit of sin.

Your hands curled around his head, your fingers latching into the back of his head, tugging at his hair, your mouth struggling to keep pace with the sweet assault on them. His pupils dilated due to his lust for you, he kissed you, ravaging your lips, biting and tugging at them in the most animalistic way.

"Fuckin' hell." You cursed as his teeth almost bit into the gash on your lip, the one where your husband had mercilessly beat you a few nights before, the taste of your own metallic blood in your mouth. Maybe Tommy tasted it too, for he immediately pulled away, his hands still holding you in place.

"Did he do this to you?"

You nodded.

"Come with me then. Leave that man." Those were the words he said to you as he grabbed you by your hand and dragged you to the desk in the corner.

"And go where? He'll find me. You know I can't fucking do that." For once, you could feel yourself weaken, the sudden realization of it all seeping through you, that you were trapped in a life full of torture and abuse and there was nothing you could do about it.

"I'll think of something, until then –" he brought his palm up to your cheek, his thumb brushing over the gash on your lip that was bleeding now.

"Thomas– " You moaned.

Maybe the way his name rolled out of your lips was too much for him to bear, he literally started ripping your robe off in an attempt to free you of it while you hands fervently ran against the buttons of his shirt to get it off. Clothes were ripped off and the library floor was stocked with piles of discarded clothes, both of you naked and beautiful under each other's eyes, by the desk by the fireplace.

Tommy's hands grabbed your bare arse, kneading it lightly until he barked at you to turn over and you complied. You felt vulnerable, bent on your own desk with nothing to cover your modesty, his eyes snaking over your back, your arse but you liked it. So much so that you were horrified if someone was to hear you, not because of what your husband would do to you, but because of how you would have to part with this man right now when you wanted nothing more than to feel him inside you.

"For fucks sake, Thomas, I need you now. I don't want anyone to– "

"Your wish is my fuckin' command." Was all he said. That was all the warning you received.

And then you screamed in a sweet, pleasurable pain when he thrust his hard cock into you, making you grab the edge of the table while his nails dug into your hips. A series of curses followed and soon, you found yourself enjoying the way his cock was ravaging your core. His pace inside you was relentless, his hits merciless, hitting you at just the right spot every time, causing you to just sneak closer to your edge with every hit.

"Fuck," Tommy grunted in a low voice, sliding in and out of you, the sound of your skin slapping against his echoing through the library.

"Fucking hell, Thomas– " You seethed, holding on to the desk as you felt your eyes roll at the back of your head, pleasure bursting inside you with every movement of his.

"You feel so good." He slurred, his voice thick with lust and desire. It was like music to your ears, a music you didn't want to stop listening to. But you also knew that all good things often come to an end. "Come for me now, love. Come on." His voice commanded you, making you tip over your edge.

And the command was all it took for you to come crashing down, your body trembling as your pussy clenched around his cock, shooting sparks all over your body. And after a few unsteady, light thrusts, you felt him twitch inside you as a final signal that he was there too, his warm seed spilling into you as he moaned something incoherent that you couldn't make out.

He stayed like that for a few silent seconds, both of yous erratic breathing empowering each others until you finally felt him slide out of you. You stood up, leaving a trail of his cum rolling down your thigh as you struggled to put your underwear on and then grabbed your robe silently while Tommy pulled his pants up and started rummaging for his torn shirt that had almost been ripped apart by you.

You bit your lip awkwardly now; a sudden void filling up your heart.

Thomas Shelby had gotten what he wanted, and maybe he would never look your way again.

Of course, this couldn't mean more than a one time thing to him, could it?

Suddenly, the sound of a match lighting brought you back into reality but you were startled to find him standing inches apart from you, his palm on your cheek, his index finger rubbing gently over your gash.

"You alright love?"

You gave him a weak smile and nodded.

You parted your lips to reply but a loud bang on the door caused you and Thomas to turn towards the door.

"Mrs. Button, is everything alright in there?" Janice called out.

"It-It is, Janice, is there anything you want?"

"Just wanted to let you know your husband's home."

"Fucking hell, looks like our time is up, Mr. Shelby," Your eyes flew to Tommy, as the curse escaped your mouth. He looked unbothered."I'll join him in a minute." You called out to Janice.

Tommy didn't say anything else. As quietly as he had come in, you saw him walk towards the door that led to your garden and you followed him. It was only when he reached the door and you unbolted it for him, did he turn and look into your eyes and speak.

"Until next time, Mrs. Button."

"Call me (Y/N). I don't want to be linked with that man. At least not with you around."

"Let me rephrase it then, until next time, (Y/N), who knows it might even be at your dear husband's funeral."

That was the last words that he spoke to you that night before you saw him sneak out through your garden until he wasn't in sight anymore and you stood there by that door, smirking inwardly at his words.

(What do you guys feel about a second part to this? Let me know?)

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