#Gregory W. Hall

[wutbju]

Gregory W. Patton, age 47, went to be with his Savior on July 18, 2022. A beloved husband, father, and friend, Greg lived in Pitman for the past 13 years and enjoyed being an active participant in his church and surrounding community. He received his Bachelor's degree from Bob Jones University and his Master's degree from Clemson University. Greg began his career as a CPA in South Carolina. He then worked for Wilmington Trust and Fox Rothschild and most recently worked for Ernst & Young in Philadelphia as a CPA. A devoted husband who was always there for reassurance, encouragement, and support, Greg's family was his world. His kids adored him and looked up to him as their hero. Greg loved to spend time with his kids- teaching them to ride bikes, taking them to play tennis, putting together wooden models, playing games, and assembling puzzles. Greg shared his enthusiasm for life with his children and took the time to teach them important skills- everything from mowing the lawn to fixing plumbing. Greg had an incredible sense of humor with which he could make everyone around him laugh. He was caring and compassionate, stepping in to help others whenever an opportunity arose. A volunteer with Samaritan's Purse, he was always ready to lend a hand to those in need. He loved sports including biking and ice hockey and was an avid Philadelphia Flyers fan. Greg was always ready for the next adventure, whether that was an evening around the firepit in the backyard or a weekend family getaway. He is survived by his wife Lani (Russell) Patton, children Elyse, Garrett, and Norah, parents Carolyn (Sickler) and Ned Patton, sisters Elizabeth (Bradley) Howe, Lori (Jeryl) Bier, and many nieces and nephews. Friends may greet the family from 9:00-10:30am on Tuesday, July 26th at Joy Fellowship Community Church, 309 Florence Ave, Pitman, NJ 08071. Funeral service will be at 11am, private interment to follow. Those desiring may make a monetary contribution to Samaritan's Purse at samaritanspurse.org.

[tommydarlings]

obsession at first sight | c.l

pairing: dark!stalker!perv!charles x reader

warnings: dark, stalking, obsessive behaviour, possessive behaviour, extremely perverse!charles???, borderline psychotic and mentally sick!charles, male masturbation, drugging, throwing up, gagging (in a non-sexual way!), mention of a panic attack, manipulation, stockholm-syndrome

w/c: 5.8k

summary: Since your school ordered you to do an internship somewhere you’d like to work at in the future, you decided to do one at the formula one Ferrari company, it was almost like a dream come true seeing everything in real life… little did you know, that from that point on, you’re life would turn into nothing more than a sick and twisted nightmare. (based off of this request)

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It was love at first sight.

Or to describe it better, it was obsession at first sight. Because the second Charles laid his eyes upon your almost angelic and way to innocent looking figure, he knew he had to have you, one way or another, no matter the consequences, no matter the risks.

You were mindlessly wandering around the Ferrari garage while one of the not oh so important engineers explained some car related stuff to you, showing you around and simply introducing you to Ferrari.

Charles was seeing red as he watched with dark eyes how the engineer that he didn’t even bother knowing the name of showed you around and had the opportunity to talk and look at you.

And even touch you. Charles would have done absolutely anything to place his big hands onto your waist or back, feeling your delicate skin under his rough hands.

While nick — the engineer — happily explained various stuff about Ferrari to you, you caught Charles staring at you multiple times already, looking at your face, looking at your thighs covered in the black pair of leggings or starring right at your cleavage, biting his inner cheek each time you took a deep breath which made your breasts appear even bigger.

You thought it was weird since the two of you didn’t even exchange a single word yet and also probably won’t in the future but you didn’t mention it to anyone, not thinking to much about it and focusing more on the work related stuff nick was explaining to you.

Most probably, you were simply delusional. But you could sworn upon your life that you caught Charles taking a picture, or maybe even multiple picture of you, some even from different angles.

But you were probably just seeing things, so you decided to ignore it and shake it off, not thinking nor talking about it as you shook your head and removed your gaze from the weirdly–behaving monaguesque, smiling at nick again.

And oh did Charles hate the fact that you flashed this basically no-name engineer your pretty little smile that he wished to draw on your face each time you look at him from across the garage, but he could only dream.

At least for now.

“Charles! You’re needed!” One of the managers yelled at the young driver, making Charles still not remove his eyes from you.

A little smirk creeped up on his face as he watched your figure walking around next to the engineer, “coming,” he mumbled more to himself before he put his phone that contained multiple pictures of you from various angles back into his pocket, quickly walking away from you, leaving you even more confused.

—

“Don’t forget to hand in your assignments that are due until tomorrow, guys!” Your professor, Mr. Gregory, yelled through the big hall that’s filled with loud students chatting about their internships.

You smiled to yourself since you already finished it and don’t have anything to do today, so you happily left the building with your books in your hands.

Your intuition was telling you that something was off as soon as you made your way to the bus stop, multiple times checking your surroundings to see if anything seemed foul, but there was nothing.

At least that’s what you thought.

Charles — who was closely watching you the entire day already, could only chuckled as he watched you shaking your head to yourself and walk towards the bus stop you walk to every Friday at exactly 2:20 p.m with the exact same three books in your arms.

Science, literature and mathematics. Charles knew it all, he would be stupid if he wouldn’t since he’s been studying you since you left Ferrari.

The day you left Ferrari, December the 11th at around 3 p.m, Charles felt uneasy. He felt like they wickedly ripped you away from him and told you not to think to much about him.

Even though he wanted to be the only thing on your pretty little mind, just like you were the only thing on his mind.

He noticed how your feet carried your breakable, little body faster than the usual pace towards the familiar bus stop, making Charles furrow his brows.

'Why was she walking so fast?' He thought to himself before he quickly crossed the street and followed you, eyes not being able to rip themselves away from your bouncing skirt and pretty legs as he walked closer and closer to your rushing figure.

While walking behind you, Charles quickly grabbed his camera and snapped a couple of pictures of you. Some of your silky smooth hair, some of your soft legs, but most of your bottom which was covered by your white, bouncy skirt.

He bit his lips as he zoomed even further in, focusing on taking a picture in the perfect moment where the slight breeze of the wind would blow your thin skirt to the side and expose the bottom line of your panties a bit, forcing Charles to readjust his jeans.

“Fucking hell, angel,” he mumbled deeply to himself before he took a brief look at the photos he just took, “please never stop wearing that goddamn skirt, y/n baby.”

While Charles was rubbing himself over his jeans with one of his hands while the other hand held his thousand dollar camera, you were busy with your phone as you waited for the bus to come, releasing a breath of relief as he finally came.

But right when you wanted to step forward, one of your heavy books slipped out of your hand and landed onto the dirty, hard concrete floor, making you whine since you really didn’t wanted to bend down with the other heavy books in your arms.

“Wait! Here, I’ll help you,” you heard somebody yelling as a man ran towards you, taking you by surprise as you realised who it was.

“Charles Leclerc?” You laughed, not expecting to see him here… with an expansive looking camera in his hand?

Charles briefly smiled at you as he heard you saying his name, quickly trying to push the camera a bit out of your view before he bend down and picked your book back up,

“The one and only,” he joked with a kind smile, making you giggle as he handed you your science book.

Charles quickly cleared his throat as he glanced at the upcoming bus who was coming closer and closer to the bus stop the two of you were currently standing at, “You enjoyed your time at Ferrari? Did nick treat you well?” He asked with furrowed brows.

You were suprised that he even remembered you, nodding at his question, “Yep! I really liked it and nick was a great teacher, yeah!” You answered with a gentle smile.

Charles nodded even though his blood was boiling at the mention of another man’s name coming out of your pretty little but sadly empty mouth.

He shook his head with a smile as he thought about how much of his cock he could effortlessly be able to shove into your mouth before he would hear the fist gagging sound, before he would see the first tears welling up in your eyes and before he would have to wipe the first tears away from your hallowed cheeks.

“Thank you,” you quietly told him before you stepped into your bus and took off, leaving Charles at the bus stop with a growing boner and the most sinful fantasies in his head.

All of them obviously including you.

—

Charles bit his lip with a sinister smile on his face as he put some tape onto the last picture that he just printed out and sticked it to the other 49 pictures on his wall, admiring the big wall that he just proudly filled with dozens of pictures from different days and different angles.

After a few seconds of simply starring at the with pictures filled wall, he sat down onto the bed across from the covered wall and swiftly opened his pants, eagerly pulling his cock out before he slowly stared pumping his length, groaning and throwing his head back as he did so.

“Fucking shit, mon amour,” he furrowed his brows in pleasure before he groaned again,

“You make me go crazy,” the monaguesque gulped, eyes focused on the multiple pictures sticking to the wall across from his sitting figure,

“Tellement fou, tu n'en as aucune idée,” so fucking crazy, you have no idea, Charles harshly gripped the sheets with his other hand as his eyes tried to focus on one picture, but it was impossible, his gaze locked onto almost all of them, forcing more groans and moans out of him.

His knuckles were already turning red from how rough he was fisting the sheets next to his hips as his other hand got quicker, wet and slick sounds filling the hot air while Charles's eyes slightly watered from the immense pleasure he currently felt just by looking at the picture across from him.

“Oh god, oh god!” His head fell forward this time, hand that he was jerking himself off with trembling now, “I’m gonna cum for you, y/n!” He gasped loudly, deep moans and groans turning into whines, “Tu vas me faire jouir, oh mon dieu!” You’re gonna make me cum, oh my god!

Only a couple seconds later Charles was painting the various pictures with his load, eyes squeezed shut and deep, heavy breaths filling the air as his hand and legs slightly trembled from all the pleasure.

As Charles opened his eyes again and looked up at his well decorated wall, he was only able to smile at the sight on front of him.

His cum was perfectly covering a picture that he took of you yesterday. It was a bright picture that was showing your smiley face, a smiley face that was now covered in Charles's cum.

The Ferrari driver licked his lips before he buttoned his jeans back up again and laughed at the pictures.

Another one right in front of him was showing you laying on your bed in just a short top and your pink panties, some of his fresh cum now also covering your peachy ass that was facing Charles's camera since you were laying on your stomach.

Then his eyes caught a picture of you in college, nicely sitting like a good and smart girl in one of your lectures during what he guessed was German class.

He followed you everywhere. There was no place where you could possibly escape him, he knew all of your lectures and friends. When you have science or math class, when lunch break begins and ends, when you have your next German or history exam, and when you meet up after school with your friend Katie.

He knew it all. He studied it all. To the brim.

Charles slowly stood up and walked over to one of the pictures that he first sticked onto the wall since it was one of his favourite pictures — not like he got a specific favourite one since he loves every single one of them — but this one had a special place in his heart.

It was the picture of you waiting for your bus a few days ago, three books in your hands and a pretty white bow in your hair while the wind helped Charles this day and lifted your skirt up a bit, exposing the bottom of your ass cheeks to his camera.

Charles was sure that he could cum again just by looking at the picture and rubbing his fingertips over it, especially over your ass.

“Oh mon petit lapin, les choses que j'aurais pu te faire ce jour-là, mais je me suis retenu parce que je suis un bon homme, tu devrais me remercier bébé, ouais... tu devrais me remercier petit lapin,” Oh my little bunny, the things I could have done to you that day, but I held myself back because I’m a good man, you should thank me baby, yeah… you should thank me little bunny.

Then he leaned forward and gave the picture a kiss, placing his lips right there where your white skirt barely covered your bum.

Charles smiled at the picture, hand already rubbing himself through his jeans again… your body always gave him a boner.

“Hop as far away from me as you can, little bunny,” he tilted his head to the side with a tiny smile, “I will always catch you.” His smile fell before he opened his jeans back up again, urge just simple to big to resist.

—

“hurry up, little bunny,” Charles mumbled to himself before he went back to watching you through his binoculars again, “Your literature lesson begins in 20 minutes and we don’t want you to be late, now do we?”

The monaguesque watched closely from one of the windows with his black pair of binoculars as you hurried through your apartment, heavy bag strapped to your well dressed body.

But when were you not well dressed? Looking all pretty and sweet, obviously only for Charles. Exactly. Never.

“You’ve got 15 minutes left y/n, goddamnit hurry up or I drag you personally to your lesson, baby,” Charles hissed to himself before a notification on his phone caught his attention.

'Dear students of class 11B, since your literature teacher, Mr. Woolword, called in sick today… you won’t be having literature in your first period, instead you’ll be lucky and have a free period.'

And as soon as Charles read that — since he’s logged into your school schedule app with your account — he jumped up and sprinted towards one of the windows in the very back of your apartment, quietly entering your home for the hundredth time already.

“Oh god, I need to leave, shit my literature books!” You mumbled to yourself but Charles heard it, swiftly making his way to your room and taking the heavy books with him, hiding in the meantime in your closet, leaving the door a tiny bit open to get a good peek at you.

Charles caught how you cutely furrowed your brows and turned into every direction to find your literature books, but it was no use, you couldn’t find them and you were already running way to late.

The Ferrari driver who was carefully watching you with your books in his arms, grinned and bit his lip, holding the books in one arm before he grabbed his camera and quietly laid down onto the floor.

Oh you made a great choice by wearing a dress today.

With a wicked grin, Charles focused himself on being quiet but still catching the perfect moments to take a picture of your panties peeking through the bottom of the dress, smile widening each time he got the perfect picture of your bottom.

“Oh mon Dieu,” oh god, Charles groaned quietly in a raspy tone before he started rubbing his crotch against the hard floor, biting his lip and groaning and moaning in very quiet and soft tones to not catch your attention before he snapped a couple more pictures.

“Ugh, fuck it, I am already so late,” you angrily muttered to yourself before you stormed out of the room and put your shoes on, swiftly running to the bus stop… without your literature books that you — unbeknown to you — wouldn’t even need today anyway.

—

“Seriously, I’m so happy that we have a free period!” Your friend, Lydia, said with a bright smile, making you smile as well.

“Me too,” you nodded as you entered the small café that’s only a few feet away from your school. Quickly sitting down onto one of the wooden chairs in the corner of the café.

After ordering, the two of you just talked about all sorts of stuff. At first you talked about typical class drama, then you started talking about your upcoming exams and even gossiped about some of your teachers, very common stuff to talk about with your friends.

Suddenly, you heard a camera clicking. At first, you ignored it and just continued listening to Lydia explain something about the upcoming English exam to you, but when you heard the same camera click for a second time, you swiftly turned around and scanned the shop, making Lydia stop mid-sentence.

Lydia tapped your arm, “Y/n? You okay? What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, still nervously looking around the small café with wide eyes, “I-I just thought t-that I heard something… just forget it,” you mumbled more to yourself than to your worried friend.

“Heard something? What do you mean, y/n? You’re scaring me…” she trailed off, looking deeply into your eyes.

“I just thought t-that I heard a-a camera clicking… like,” you gulped, hoping that you didn’t sound to crazy, “like somebody t-taking a picture of me.”

Lydia nodded before she gulped as well and quietly stood up,

“We’re leaving, c'mon,” she took you by your hand, “I honestly can’t see anything or anyone but if you don’t feel safe or comfortable then we’ll leave,” she leaded you towards the exit while you still continued scanning the café, eyes suddenly catching very briefly another pair of eyes that way intensely looking at you.

You’ve seen that pair of eyes before, but you couldn’t put your finger on it…

Shortly after making eye contact with that familiar looking man, your friend drags you out of the café without another word.

—

You felt paranoid as you entered your apartment, Lydia closing the door behind you with a thud as she cautiously watched your pacing figure.

“What happened back there with you, y/n? You seemed so nervous and scared… did something in the past happen that you didn’t tell me?” Lydia asked you while you removed your shoes and jacket, quietly turning around.

You sighed, “I might be crazy Lydia, but… I feel like somebody has been watching me for a while now,” you whispered the last part, still nervously scanning the apartment.

Lydia gasped, walking over to you, “Why didn’t you tell me! We could have called the police by now! We'll do it now!” She said in a loud tone before she grabbed her phone but you stopped her.

“No!” You said in a louder tone, “Don’t do that, the person might be watching us now and I for sure don’t want you involved in all of this mess, okay?”

Lydia sighed before she slowly nodded, “o-okay, but please! If you notice anything shady looking again, you immediately call me, alright!” She pointed her finger at you before she made her way towards the door, slowly leaving you alone.

You gave her a tight lipped smile, “I will, I promise,” you closed the door behind her, taking a deep breath before you went upstairs.

You just really needed to lay down right now and let that all sink in, you needed to calm down for a bit.

Knock. Knock.

With a groan, you left your comfortable bed, lazily walking towards the front door again,

“Lydia!” You rolled your eyes with a tired sigh, “it’s fine! I can look out for myself, I swear-!”

But it wasn’t your friend Lydia who stood infront of your front door as you opened the it, it was formula one driver Charles Leclerc, the one you saw numerous times when you made your internship at Ferrari not to long ago.

“Oh, uhm, hey!” You smiled at him kindly, making Charles lick his lips before you spoke up again,

“What are you doing here if I may ask, mr. Leclerc?” You stopped to the side, silently welcoming him into your apartment. You couldn’t deny that he was quite good looking and charming, probably no women could deny that.

You noticed how Charles gulped and briefly smirked in a sinister way as you said mr. Leclerc instead of just Charles, but quickly replacing the smirk with a charming grin again, “I was just coincidentally in the neighbourhood for some work related stuff and thought that I personally ask you if you enjoyed it at Ferrari and if you would actually consider working there after you’re done with school!”

He told you in a happy tone, forcing you to raise your brows in utter suprise since you really didn’t expect him to ask you such question. After a few seconds, you confusingly nodded,

“Uhm, yeah! I really enjoyed it and I actually do consider working there, yep! Really loved it, was a lot of fun but also super educational which I thought was just great!” You explained to him after he entered your house, closing the door behind him,

“You want something to drink? Tea? Coffee?” You asked him, slowly walking towards the kitchen while he scanned your house… unbeknownst to you for the hundredth time already.

Charles shook his head, “just a glass of water, please,” he flashed you a bright smile before he watched you disappear into the kitchen.

While you were grabbing a glass of water for the young Ferrari driver in your living room, Charles quickly pulled his phone out of his pants and opened his notes app, proudly crossing one of the tasks on his little 'To-do List' off.

Get her to invite you into her house and make her feel comfortable around your presence.

Charles could only smile and cheekily bite his lip before he was forced to quietly throw his phone onto the small table infront of him since he already heard you coming and just a few seconds later you handed him the small glass with that infamous smile of yours.

Oh how he wanted wipe that smile off of your beautiful face and replace it with a pathetic pout while you’re desperately begging for his cock.

After taking a few sips of the cold water, Charles spoke up,

“Where’s your bathroom if I may ask?” He turned towards your smaller frame, looking down at you with soft eyes.

“Just right around the corner over there!“ you pointed towards the small hallway. Charles quietly thanked you before he left you alone in your living room.

You kindly smiled again before you noticed his slightly cracked phone laying on your small table. You know that you usually shouldn’t do that, especially not with the phone of a celebrity but your curiosity got the best out of you, so you carefully picked his phone up and ran your fingers over the cracks on the back of it, wondering why he is just not buying himself a new phone… isn’t that man like a millionaire?

But as you turned the phone around, you were suprised to see that Charles didn’t lock it, almost as if he was in a hurry and just quickly tossed in onto your living room table.

But what was even more surprising to you was the fact that his phone brightly showed a note in his notes app, a very distrusting note.

Get her to invite you into her house and make her feel comfortable around your presence.

Which is crossed out.

You furrowed your brows before you swiped further down and gulped as you read the next couple of words on his disturbing 'To-do' list,

Carefully gain her trust and use your charm on her.

Which is also crossed out.

With wide eyes, you nervously bit your lip before you glanced towards the hallway, checking if he’s not hiding behind the wall or something.

Luckily, he didn’t caught you…yet.

After taking a deep breath, you scrolled again,

Ask her if you can use your bathroom.

Crossed off as well.

Your bottom lip was already trembling in pure terror as you dared to scroll further, swallowing tears down as your eyes scanned the next terrifying words,

Force her into unconsciousness after coming back from the bathroom by standing behind her trembling figure while she’s going through your notes ;).

Before you were even able to gasp, a big wet cloth covered your mouth from behind, giving you as good as no time to fight before you heard his voice in your ear from behind,

“Shh, go to sleep, little angel… I’ll wake you up again when I need you, okay?” Gently kissing your temple before you feel not only into unconsciousness, but also into Charles arms.

He chuckled, “knew you’d be a curious little bunny, going through the phone of other people… that’s not something a typical good and smart girl like you should be doing, hmm? Guess I need to teach you better then.”

—

Slowly, you felt yourself waking up, rising from the bed that you were laying on with a groan as you tried to come to your senses again.

Your shaking hands went up to your head, checking if you’re bleeding or hurt in any kind of way.

Nothing.

You sighed in relief, but that relief was quickly replaced by pure shook and fear as you realised what the room that Charles put you in looked like, eyes widening and suddenly getting automatically filled with tears.

Pictures. Pictures of you. Pictures of you in any possible size, captured from every possible angle.

You gasped, hand immediately covering your mouth as you started helplessly crying, shaking your head as you turned your head and scanned the other pictures on the other side of the room with wide eyes, legs quickly leaving the bed that you guessed was his.

This… was his bedroom.

The walls in his bedroom were filled to the absolute brim with pictures of you. Pictures where you were walking to school, coming home from school, pictures from the small window that perfectly showed your living room, pictures that showed you taking a shower or that showed you sleeping in your bedroom.

You walked through his bedroom, eyes scarily scanning every single picture with a poor, blurry vision as your hand couldn’t stop shaking.

Pictures from inside the house. Pictures visibly taken from your closet, from a disgusting angle that perfectly showed your ass and panties. Pictures taken of you as you changed in your bedroom, showing you completed naked or pictures that showed you masturbating.

He caught every single moment, every single activity of yours, it was perfectly visible on the walls of his bedroom.

You never felt so sick before, you swiftly covered your mouth with your hand but it was already too late, quickly, you went to a corner of his bedroom and loudly threw up, emptying your stomach as your sobs only got more violent.

Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder and another hand holding your hair back, helping you as you continued throwing up in disgust.

You shook your head and groaned, tears staining your red cheeks, “L-Let go of me! Now!” You tried to run away from him but Charles quietly put one of his arms around your waist and pressed you against him, other hand still holding your hair in a makeshift ponytail so that they wouldn’t be hanging in your face.

“Shhh,” he mumbled in your ear from behind, almost as if he was trying to sound comforting as the thumb of his other hand stroked your hip, “It’s okay, you can let it all out,” Charles told you quietly, “I’m here.”

You bend forward again and threw up another load as you felt him touching you and stroking your hip in a reassuring manner, making your head spin even more before you shook your head again,

“N-No!” You took a deep breath as you placed your palms on his biceps, “you’re a-” you gulped and took a deep breath, “you’re a monster! L-Let me go, p-please!” You pleaded with teary eyes and a sore throat.

Charles furrowed his brows behind you and shook his head with a giggle, “what? No! I’m helping you, can’t you see?” His voice got a bit louder, “I’ve never done anything bad to you, angel!” The Ferrari driver stated, almost sounding proud to be able to say that.

It sickened you even more.

“You’re sick!” You spat at him, gagging again as he pressed himself closer to you, your mind not being able to forget the awful pictures that are surrounding the two of you at the moment.

Your hand squeezed his biceps as you softly cried, “C-Charles, please!” You begged, “Let me o-out of here, I’m begging you. I need t-to get out of t-this room, please,” voice quiet but rough as you leaned forward and squeezed your eyes shut, trying your best to avoid looking at all of those pictures.

“You want to get out of this beautiful room, mon amour, why?” He chuckled into your ear from behind whilst he squeezed your hip with his palm, lips still running along your temple, cheek and neck. You felt it all.

He chuckled again, “I decorated it all so beautifully for you and me, do you even know how much time that took? And now you wanna leave? You’re such an ungrateful little bitch, do you know that?” The driver spat at you from behind in a harsh tone as you felt like you would choke to death on your tears any second, you never cried that much before.

You repeatedly shook your head but slowly tried to give up, letting your head hang low with a tired sigh as you tried your best to calm yourself down since you felt like you were on the verge of a panic attack.

Charles somehow took notice of that, slowly letting his grip fall around your hips but still pressing himself against you from behind, standing up straight to peck the top of your head, “you're finally coming to your senses and calming down, huh? Good girl.”

Your bottom lip trembled as you couldn’t stop to sniffle and whine, big, teary eyes scanning the pictures on the walls as if they were the scariest things you’ve ever seen.

And honestly, they were the scariest things you’ve ever laid your eyes on. No doubt.

“Yeah,” Charles whispered from behind your trembling figure as he scanned the room as well, “take a look around, my angel,” he smiled at the various pictures, “they’re so pretty, aren’t they? I’m quite proud of myself to be honest,” he admitted with an evil grin as he proudly stared at his walls.

You took deep breaths and still shook your head as you also dared yourself to look around his room, finger still unintentionally squeezing his big and muscular arms that wouldn’t let your waist go, “h-how long did a-all of that take you?” You don’t even why you asked that question, apparently you were simply curious.

Charles thought about it for a few seconds as his eyes didn’t leave 'his work'.

“Well, including the taking the pictures, printing them out, perfectly cutting them to the right size and sticking them all into a specific order onto the wall… about three months, why are you asking, sweet girl?”

You gasped before you let your head hung low again, watching how the tears started to stain his floor. Pathetically, you only whined.

Charles furrowed his brows, “what’s wrong, my angel? You don’t like it?” He asked carefully as if he would really care right now, but you only whined and cried, whined and cried and whined and cried even more, so much that you’re entire body already started to feel the pain that was consuming your mind.

You felt like you could scream. like you could cry nonstop, until you have not a single drop of a tear left anymore, like you could breakdown and pass out and wish that you’ll never wake up again. you felt so inhuman… so disconnected from yourself as you sobbed.

And then it happened, you quickly turned your body to the right side and broke down, knees and palms hitting the floor with a tiny thud as you felt like you’re breaking into a million pieces, all created because of him.

Charles immediately went down with you, arms now removing themselves from your waist before he positioned his body in front of you and picked you up, cradling you reassuringly in his embrace before he set you down onto his lap, leaning against the wall with your small, shaking figure.

“Shh,” he whispered as his back touched multiple pictures of you, “I am sorry, my sweet angel, I’m sorry,” he mumbled into your ear as you only squeezed your eyes shut and let the tears stain his shirt.

Was he actually apologising? Wow, but why now?

Your hands slowly left the floor and placed themselves on his broad shoulder, trembling fingers fisting his t-shirt as he went on in a hush tone,

“I‘m sorry that you don’t seem to like the pictures, I have six envelopes each filled with one hundred-fifty-five other pictures of you, my love… I can replace them if you’d like,” he shrugged as he kissed your temple, right hand caressing your head while the other hand went up and down your back.

You were done. You were so tired, confused and disturbed. Sadly, you let your head drop into the crook of his neck, purely out of humongous weakness, shedding those immense amounts of tears really does take a toll on the human body.

Charles sighed, “believe it or not, sweet little thing, you’re the absolute safest… only in my arms, and nowhere else, you understand that, right?” Hands suddenly trembling ever more as you heard his words being whispered directly into your ear.

After you didn’t answer for a few seconds, Charles got impatient, “right?” He spat in a rather harsh tone at you, hand now pulling your head by your hair out of the crook of his neck and forcing you to look at him with your teary eyes.

You immediately nodded, sniffling after you whined at his rough grip on your hair, “r-right, yes C-Charles,” you could have puked again the second you mumbled his name, it all made you sick. His touch. His name. His voice. His words.

He made you sick. Letting your body feel sick, but also your mind.

“Good,” he leaned forwards and kissed your wet and red cheeks, gently kissing your tears away while his hand let go of your hair and softly massaged your scalp now, “That’s the good girl I like, don’t disobey me, okay? It will only force me to hurt that pretty little body of yours and I don’t want that, alright? You’re way to pure and beautiful for that, my angel,” he mumbled.

Your hands shook unstoppably on his broad shoulders, so hard that even Charles noticed.

The formula one driver briefly looked at your soft hands shaking on his shoulder before he looked back at you,

“Oh no, you’re all shaky, sweet girl,” he looked worried, “c‘mere,” Charles told you in a soft tone before he grabbed both of your hands and raised them up to his lips, gently giving each of your palm a lightweight kiss, lips only briefly grazing your skin as he kept his eyes on you.

“It’s okay, just calm down for me, you’ll feel better then, I promise,” he whispered, thumb caressing your palms before he intertwined your hands with his, lightly squeezing them.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

4 w/anthony bridgerton

Prompts: An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose.

Warnings: Covert smooches; friends-to-lovers; Anthony Bridgerton's Infamous Competitive Streak

Being old friends of the Bridgertons meant that you and your family were often being invited to spend time at Aubrey Hall, and this weekend was no different. When you'd awoken on Saturday to pouring rain, you'd assumed that any and all frivolity would be foregone, but Gregory had proposed a game of hide and seek. With his pleading smile, you and his siblings had been powerless to say no. You'd gone to a spare bedroom, getting into a large, deep armoire and tucking yourself in among the spare dresses and coats.

You shifted slightly, already growing warm among the fabrics, your heart roaring in your ears as you fought to hold still. You peered through the crack in the wardrobe doors, leaning away as you spotted movement outside. He couldn't have found you already—

You yelped as the wardrobe door was flung open, then groaned as Anthony came into focus.

"Do you mind?" You hissed.

"Not at all. You're in my spot."

"If this was your spot, you would've been here when I chose it."

"I always hide here when we play hide and seek."

"Doesn't that defeat the purpose?"

"They always assume I'll move, and I do not. Now, if you would please find somewhere else."

"I will not! I got here first!"

"READY OR NOT, HERE I COME!"

The two of you balked at Gregory's excited yell. Anthony turned, nudging you back and shushing you as you began to argue again.

"If you do not keep quiet, you'll ruin both our chances," Anthony whispered. You pushed an irritated huff out through your nose, but made no other argument. The two of you fell into testy silence, listening for Gregory's footsteps. Your stomach flipped as Anthony shifted slightly, his chest and knuckles brushing against yours. You'd never been so close to him, or to any man, unless you were dancing.

You glanced nervously toward Anthony, then away as you found his gaze searching your face. You hurriedly turned your head again, looking through the door's crack to spot what you could of the room.

"...Anything?" Anthony murmured.

"I can't tell."

"Let me see."

Anthony moved in before you could lean away, his nose lightly bumping yours. His breath, then his lips brushed yours. The two of you froze, falling silent enough to hear a pin drop. You took in his face, thrilling as you found his gaze heavy on your lips. You swept your tongue across your lower lip, chest fluttering as you saw Anthony swallow thickly. You tipped your chin up, swaying into him. Your lips pressed gently against his for a few moments, stomach a flurry of nerves, then excitement as he raised his hand to cup your cheek. You tipped your head to the side, lips parting just enough for your tongue to tease against his.

The sudden thudding of approaching feet made the two of you break your kiss. Anthony gripped your hand, gently nudging you through the clothing and pressing you against the back of the armoire. He raised his finger to his lips, signalling for you to stay quiet before he turned away again. You shifted to the side, ducking your head as you saw light flood the armoire.

"I found you!" Gregory crowed.

"Indeed you did," Anthony chuckles. "Who else have you found?"

"No one, yet."

"Off you go, then."

You heard Gregory scamper off, calling, "I found Anthony!" As he went. You sucked in a soft gasp as the armoire was plunged into darkness again, then watched Anthony shove the clothing aside. He crowded close to you without hesitation, pressing his body against yours.

"What if he comes back?" You breathed, eyes sliding closed as he trailed his nose gently along your cheekbone.

"He won't," He reassured, "Not for quite a while."

You smiled, raising your hands and curling them in his collar.

"Then we ought to enjoy what time we do have."

[chimneyz]

here is a scene for the bucktommy post break up fix it fic i've been working on:

Forty years he’s been alive, forty years today has Tommy been stumbling through life, and what does he have to show for it? Sure he has a house, hobbies, and a very select few friends but not much to show for these forty years. He’s lived longer than he expected, that could possibly be a bonus. But Tommy was lonely, this was even more evident as he sits alone in his dark house at night on his birthday with a pint of ice cream in hand. He hasn’t been able to bring himself to eat any real food, mostly sweets and the occasional bag of chips. Sleep didn’t really exist in this new chapter of Tommy Kinard. He tugs the old LAFD hoodie closer, inhaling its scent, Ev- Buck’s scent.

God he’s gotta stop doing that. It’s Buck now, just Buck.

What a birthday this turned out to be. Tommy’s mind wandered to his mother a lot today, he officially outlived her today. His mother never had the fortune of living to the age of 40, he didn’t know how to feel about it to be perfectly honest. His mind spinned from the memory of that day, the day he lost her.

Picking up the remote, Tommy raises the volume of the tv hoping the voices of Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck push away the memories of his past, recent and decades old that haunt every fiber of his being. Tommy slumps down further onto the couch as the two old Hollywood stars toured the ever so beautiful Rome. For decades Roman Holiday was his go to comfort movie, that was until he stumbled upon Love, Actually. His father called him a pussy for it but it was his mother’s favorite. He didn’t watch it much after his mother passed but on nights when his father went on another drinking bender Tommy would search the channels for this old romantic comedy, every so often luck would be on his side with it airing on one of the channels. He probably should have known he was gay a lot sooner with how mesmerized he was with the effortlessly handsome Gregory Peck.

Knock knock knock.

Startled, Tommy snapped back to the present, a pit forming in his stomach. Why does he feel nauseous? He shouldn’t feel nauseous. God he hopes it isn’t Ev-

Knock knock knock!

God the knocking isn’t stopping, whom ever it is better have a good fucking reason to bother Tommy this late into the night. Tommy slams the pint of ice cream down onto the coffee table and walks down the hall to the front door, his feet pounding on the antique hardwood floors. Tommy grabs the doorknob to swing open the front door.

“Oh my fucking God will you please sto-... Howie?”

On his porch stood Howie Han, his hand raised from the knocking, the other holding a mysterious white box that Tommy’s eyes immediately landed on.

“Oh good you're awake,” Howie says with a stern look on his face.

W-what are you-”

And more importantly what is inside that box?

Before he could finish what he was saying, Howie brushes past him with the box, knocking against Tommy’s shoulder.

“Man you really screwed the pooch didn’t you?” Howie asked.

Tommy follows him down to the kitchen and watches as Howie places the box on the island, Howie looks at him, his eyebrows knitted with concern.

What is inside that box? It takes everything to not immediately grab it to see what it holds.

“Tommy what happened? I mean Buck hasn’t said all that much, which is unusual for him, but this… it all seems out of nowhere.”

Tommy’s mouth goes dry, his mind trying to spin the right words to say. Howie’s eyes gleamed at him with genuine worry. He can’t take it, darting his eyes away from Howie.

“There is not much to talk about, it’s over.”

“Are you sure it’s over? It doesn’t seem over-over Tommy, not with you wearing that, don’t think I didn’t notice that.”

Fuck! Tommy completely forgot about the hoodie with big large red letters spelling out the name Buckley right in his back. He really should give it back. Is his stuff in that box? No, no, too small.

“It’s none of your concern Howie,” Tommy snaps.

“It kind of is since ya know… he’s my brother in law.”

Tommy presses his lips together.

“What’s in that?” Tommy points to the white box near Howie.

He looks down nearly forgetting it was there to begin with, “Oh right, here. Happy Birthday” Howie slides the box down the countertop to Tommy.

Tommy lifts up the lid to reveal a homemade coconut cream cake resting inside, the sweet aromas bringing Tommy to the verge of tears. His favorite, the one his mother would make for him on his birthday. He remembered telling Buck about the cake his mother used to make when Buck started up baking shortly after they started dating. Buck was always a chef but baking was a bit more, newer.

“Buck made this?”

“Yeah he did - God he was right when he said you saying Buck was weird - he told me to give it to you tonight.”

Tommy stares down at the cake, a wave of emotions overwhelming him. Buck made this for him? On his birthday? What was Buck playing at? He didn’t deserve this, not after everything…

“You have time to fix this Tommy,” Howie says “He misses you, a-and I know he would take you back if you would just-”

“It is over Howie!” Tommy has had enough, “It’s over, it’s done, there is no going back!”

Tears start to spill down his cheeks.

“Tommy…”

He bangs his fist onto the counter startling Howie.

“P-Please just leave.”

Howie nods slowly leaving the kitchen, he stops short not looking back at Tommy. “I will be back, I am not letting you build up those walls again, Kinard, not on my watch.”

Tommy listens as Howie’s footsteps walk further down the hall and the click of the door closes behind. A stifled sob echoes through the house as Tommy buries his face in his hands.

Happy fucking Birthday indeed.

[gimmiesophiebaek]

VBPS (Colin’s Wedding)

Rated: G Staring: All of the Bridgertons + partners (Daphne’s married)

Party #3: Colin and Penelope’s Wedding (2017)

Eloise groaned, turning over in her bed as she heard the unmistakable sound of Hyacinth’s excited footsteps barreling toward her door. Before she had time to react, her younger sister burst into the room, face flushed with glee.

"Eloise! It's today! Colin and Penelope's wedding! Can you believe it?" Hyacinth practically shouted, bouncing on the edge of the bed.

"Yes, Hyacinth,” Eloise blinked against the sunlight streaming through the windows, shielding her eyes with a pillow. “I can believe it, considering you've reminded me approximately a thousand times," she muttered.

"But aren’t you excited? Your best friend is marrying our brother! It’s so romantic!" Hyacinth twirled around the room, while Eloise stared up at the ceiling, attempting to muster the enthusiasm she knew she should feel. She was happy for Colin and Penelope, thrilled even—but part of her couldn’t shake the bittersweet feeling of things changing, of her life shifting in ways she wasn’t ready for.

"I’ll be excited once I’ve had some coffee," Eloise grumbled, dragging herself out of bed. At least she had the luxury of her own room at Bridgerton House again. Francesca had moved across the hall to Daphne's old room, which now doubled as a nursery for Daphne’s children. The sound of giggling toddlers and cooing babies was constant, making Eloise grateful for her current solitude, though she still missed the privacy of her flat outside of London.

The thought of the podcast she and Penelope shared crossed her mind as she yawned. Will we even have time for it anymore? she wondered. They'd built something special with their show, Whistledown Pookies, and Eloise had pictured them spending more time ranting about society and ridiculous customs in the 21st century. Now, with Penelope marrying her brother, Eloise feared everything would change.

Hyacinth, oblivious to Eloise’s brooding, skipped out of the room, leaving her to get dressed and prepare. Eloise sighed, eyeing the clock. She had to get across the square and help Penelope with the final touches before the ceremony. If anything went wrong today, she knew Penelope’s mother, Portia Featherington, would make a grand spectacle of it.

In another part of Bridgerton House, Violet wandered the halls, searching for Gregory. She had a distinct feeling her eldest son, Anthony, was once again mysteriously absent. Of course, Anthony had a knack for disappearing when he was needed most, but at least, for once, it wasn’t because of his former entanglement with Sienna. That tumultuous affair had ended months after Daphne’s wedding, much to Violet's relief.

"Gregory!" she called, finally finding him lingering by the grand staircase. "Do you know where your brothers are?"

"Colin’s taking a shower," Gregory said, straightening his jacket. "Benedict’s on his way with the limos. But Anthony…" Gregory trailed off, giving Violet a knowing look.

"Anthony is…missing," Violet said, raising her brow.

"Exactly."

Violet sighed. She knew her eldest had a tendency to either bury himself in work or indulge in too many drinks at White’s. Both scenarios were equally likely this morning. 

"Let’s hope he isn’t too drunk for his own brother’s wedding."

"Well, at least Colin has me as his best man.” Gregory chuckled. “So, crisis averted."

Violet smiled softly, grateful for Gregory's reliability. While she felt some anxiety about Anthony’s whereabouts, she was relieved she hadn’t had to manage too many of the wedding details. Penelope’s mother, Portia, had taken over the planning with fervor. Let’s just hope she’s kept things elegant, Violet thought, shuddering at the memory of Philippa’s butterfly-themed wedding and Prudence’s baffling purple-and-green color scheme.

"Well, Gregory," Violet said, patting his arm, "you’re in charge of keeping everything on track until Anthony shows up. Keep your brother in line, will you?"

"You can count on me." Gregory grinned, giving his mother a wink. 

As Violet left to attend to her own duties, Eloise rushed out of her room, hastily buttoning up her gown as she made her way toward Penelope’s side. Today wasn’t just any day—it was the start of a new chapter, not just for Colin and Penelope, but for her too.

And despite her grumbling, deep down, Eloise was excited to see where that chapter would take them all.

Continue this two-parter on AO3

[555sage]

COMPANY w. gregory eddie

SUMMARY — in need of company after dealing with a breakup, she could only think of one person to call.

“Why won’t—this..ugh.” She struggled trying to get her tv to work after it randomly shut off. Usually she would be able to have it done, but for the moment she wasn’t exactly in her element. Breaking up would do that to you. Have you losing your mind, questioning what you did wrong, or what you could’ve done better.

“Fuck this.” Walking to the island counter where a half glass of wine stood next to the opened bottle of Stella Rose. She really wanted Hennessy, but she was in no mood to deal with the consequences in the morning. Finishing off what was left in the wine glass, she decided to just drink from the bottle instead.

“Alexa, play Go There With You by Victoria Monét.”

“Now playing Go There With You by Victoria Monét”

Humming along to the song while she took sips from the wine bottle, she was lost in her mind thinking of what could’ve been. Grabbing her phone off the coffee table, she got underneath the plush throw on the couch taking one last sip from the bottle before setting it down on the ground.

Going through her gallery she selected and deleted photos of them together—or anything even remotely related to his bitch ass. Liability by Drake plays softly in the back, tears spills from her eyes. Emotions running high she scrolled up and down deleting any and everything, she didn’t care.

Reaching for more wine she shakes the empty bottle frustratedly. “I do not need this right now.” Sighing she leans back on the couch to continue her deleting spree. As she scrolls she stumbles on a photo of all the teachers on their first day back. A smile creeps up on her face as she looks at the familiar faces. Looking at herself in the picture she looks at Gregory who had his arms placed around her shoulders.

All she could think about was how nervous she felt around him. When taking the picture she felt so small next to him. But, truthfully that was any and everyday with him. Just tall, smart, handsome—without a second to think she had her phone against her ear as the line rang.

“Hello?” A confused Gregory answered groggily, this made her look at the clock on her wall. 2:40am.

“I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to wake you. You know what it’s fine never mind.” She stammered. Her hand comes up to her face with a slap stupid hoe, she thought to herself.

“No no no, you’re good. I’m still up going through some lesson plans.” He reassured her. Even over the phone miles away he still made her feel a way. “Why are you still up if you don’t mind me asking?”

A heavy sigh came out from her two toned lips as she tried to come up with a lie. “Just can’t sleep.” She said softly running her hands over the soft throw blanket.

By her tone he could tell she was lying. It’s one of the many things he’s picked up on. How she bites her lips when she’s trying to concentrate on something, how her legs shake when she’s antsy, and how her smile makes him smile. He wasn’t going to deny his feelings for her, but the little devil on his shoulder would remind how it wouldn’t work between him. “You sure?” He questioned in a low tone.

Chewing on her bottom lip she held back the tears threatening to spill out. “It’s just I-I need some company.” She lets out the breath she didn’t even know she was holding.

“Talk to me Desiree, what’s wrong?”

“Can you come over?” Nervousness ran up and down her body. Not hearing anything from him she began to panic. “You don’t have to..I don’t even know why I asked—”

He cuts her rambling off, “Desiree it’s fine, just send me your address and I’ll be on my way.” With a smile on her face she sends him her address and the gate code.

“See you soon.”

Desiree launches her phone next to her and rushes off the couch to tidy up. Grabbing the empty wine bottle and wine glass, trashing the bottle and rinsing the glass. She lights the candle she had on her island counter. Passing the mirror in the hall she touched her bonnet covered head and adjusted her reading glasses—maybe she should get herself together?

But why? She questioned the inner her. Your man is coming over silly!

“Not my man, but okay.” She shrugged off the entire conversation she just had with herself and grabbed something more comfortable and respectful for her incoming company. A simple black two piece consisting of a tank top and biker shorts was more put together than just a large black tee and baby yoda slippers.

A knock at the door made her jump in her space, slipping her feet into her baby yoda’s she nervously walked to the front door. Taking her left eye and peeping out the peephole she could see Gregory standing there running his hand over his black durag.

“You came..” She said in a voice of shock.

His tongue swipes across his lips as he looks down at her, “You called.”

She opens the door widely for Gregory, stepping into her home the smell of fresh linen clouds him. “I just wanna say thank you, honestly Gregor—”

“It’s nothing.” He cuts her off as he strolls behind her, watching her as she walks—his eyes trailing up and down her body. His lips curls up into a smile when he notices her slippers.

“Do you want anything to.. drink?” She asks awkwardly catching him staring at her with a smile on his face. Beginning to become self conscious she’s moves herself more behind the island counter.

“Huh–oh no, I’m good thanks.” Snapping out of his trance.

To distract herself from the tension she got herself a bottle of water and instantly chugs it.

“Wanna talk about why you called?”

His question causes her to choke on the water, catching her breath she sets the bottle down.

To be honest, she really didn’t know why she called. “I- I honestly don’t know.” She shrugged.

“Lying doesn’t look good on you.” Gregory shook his head. “Come on talk to me.”

Making eye contact with him from where she stood was still intense even though the two were many inches apart. Now seated on the couch with Gregory next to her— he listened as she spoke about her recent failed relationship.

“You know.. I just pour my all into things and in the end I get burned.” She explained as tears threatened to spill out her eyes. His large hand ran up and down her back to soothe her. Looking him in the eye not saying a word, her eyes told him a lot more than her mouth could.

Unknowingly, they both leaned forward still looking into each other’s eyes. Their lips collide softly, Gregory pulls her closer with his hand under her chin with his other arm extended behind her. Their moment was short lived as she pulled away with quickness.

“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to..” She looked away feeling embarrassed with herself.

Gregory drops his head as he licks lips tasting a hint of her fruity lip balm on his tongue. He peeked up to see her with her hands over her face. “Desiree.”

“Hmm?” She answered with her face still covered.

“Look at me please.”

His sweet yet authoritative tone made Desiree look up at him. “I’m not going to do anything you don’t want to do. You called, so I’m here. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.”

“Positive?”

“I need you Gregory.” The words slipped from her pink lips like butter.

His eyes softened, “In what way?”

“In every single way.”

That was enough for her legs to be busted open—knees up against her chest as he stroked passionately into her. The warmth and wetness had him completely enamored with Desiree, maybe it was just for the moment but one thing for sure he wouldn’t and couldn’t let this be the last time to be in this position.

His both his large hands roam under her tank top and grip and knead her tits. “So fucking good..” She moans as he slides in and out of her.

“You gonna cum for me?” He grips her jaw and pushes his index finger in her warm mouth. She swirls her tongue around his finger and sucks it.

“I’m almost there Gre—

Her moans start to interrupt her from answering, the way he was up in her she found it hard to speak. Close to her third orgasm she tightened around him. “I feel you baby, I got what you want.”

He dips down to roughly kiss her, slipping his tongue in. “Shit Des..”

Pulling away, he slips out of her and busts on her exposed stomach and some drips down her pussy lips. Barely catching her breath Desiree was dazed from the dick he dropped in her.

He laughs quietly, “You good?”

“You slipped my wig back a bit, think I need moment.” She held up her manicured french tipped finger up at him. “Sorry for pulling up your durag too.”

“Let me get you cleaned up.” He shook his head with a grin on his face.

“I’m just gonna.. lay here.”

Gregory chuckled lowly as he got up to freshen both himself and Desiree. He damn sure is glad he answered that phone call.

[averys-super-silly-blog]

‼️ALL ABOUT ME :3‼️

Name: Avery/Ave

Sexuality: Bisexual

Pronouns: he/him they/them

INTRESTS!! :3

BIGGEST INTERESTS RIGHT NOW: TALLY HALL!!! ^w^

Tally Hall, South Park, Hellpark, The Bow tie Cult (sp au), Bugbo, Hazbin Hotel, Helluva boss, Stranger Things, Scott Pilgrim Takes off/Vs the world, One Wheat Mark, Love of the S*n Object show, and Sanrio!!

SOUTH PARK:

Favorite Characters: Kyle, Pip, Tweek, Damien, Stan, Craig, and Leslie.

Ships: Style, Creek, Bunny, Rebstella, and Dip.

HELLPARK:

Favorite Characters: Thomas, Leslie, Estella, Gregory, Pip, and Damien.

Ships: Stangory, Dip, Rebstella, Twole, and Craig x Thomas (I forgot the ship name).

TBC (THE BOWTIE CULT)

Favorite Characters: Kyle, Tweek, Damien, Wendyl, and Leo (Butters)

Ships: Twutters (Tweek x Butters) and Wendyl x Heidi (I forgot the ship name again lol).

BUGBO:

Favorite characters: Bugbo, Gradeint Joe, and Thomas flyswatter.

Ships: I don’t ship any Bugbo characters :P

(I’m not typing all that for the rest)

MUSIC ARTISTS/BANDS I LISTEN TOO: Tally Hall, Tv Girl, Alex g, and Lemon Demon!!

NOW ITS TIME FOR A BUNCH OF BLINKIES!!! X3

aaannd that’s all :3

[novocaineheart]

Fronnie Week 2024 Day 1 - Space Heroes

Captain Freddy And The Attack of The Mutant Space Rabbit!

Captain Freddy faces off against a monsterous mutant space rabbit to save the sole survivor of a party cruise spaceship! Sort of...

Rating: General Fandom: Five Nights At Freddy's Security Breach Pairing: Glamrock Freddy/Glamrock Bonnie Characters: Glamrock Freddy, Glamrock Bonnie, Gregory Universe: Alternate Universe, Furry AU, Anthropomorphic

The ship was completely compromised and all the crew and guests were dead. The only survivor was a young boy who’d managed to hole up on the bridge and send out a distress signal from the space cruiser. From what Freddy could make out from the garbled message and the boy’s pleads a monster had snuck on board and attacked everyone in sight save for him. Freddy found himself running as stealthily as he could through the once bustling party cruise ship halls with his blasters in hand hoping the boy was still alive. He’d avoided the monster entirely but heard it lurking around as he made his final dash to the bridge where to his relief he found the boy safe and very eager to get off the doomed vessel.

They were on the home stretch now back to his own ship but had still yet to encounter the creature, which was quite horrifying from the boy’s, Gregory’s, description.  Freddy peaked around the open elevator door down the dark hallway to the stairs they needed to go down into the cargo bay where his ship was docked. He motioned the boy to follow him, creeping down the hall with his blasters held high and primed to shoot. He cleared each room they passed with the blaster lights, checking the shadows of each murky room for the monster. He still didn’t find it but had a bad feeling it was waiting for them in the docking bay and it would not let them leave alive.  They crept down the stairs, Freddy sweeping the bay with his lights over the many cargo crates and machinery that moved them around. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, it was here, hiding, waiting to attack, they had no choice but to press forward if they were to escape.

They were almost at the docking door when it finally revealed itself, leaping out between them and their exit growling. It was as horrific as the boy had said, a giant mutated rabbit with elongated limbs that would twist and twitch. It snarled though its jagged teeth and foaming mouth, glowing red eyes pierced the dark and it raised its wicked claws to attack as it stalked towards them. Freddy opened fire on the creature but it was quick to dodge his shots; hiding behind anything it could while inching closer to them, herding them to the stairs to force them back into the ship. He was able to get a few hits on it but they proved ineffective, only making the monster angrier. Full of fury it leapt at him, grabbing his blasters to throw them away. He resorted to his laser sword at his hip; it hummed as he swung its red blade at the beast but it was nimble and dodged each strike, eventually knocking it from his grasp as well to land near the frightened boy.

The boy called to him, the monster using the moment of distraction to whack Freddy to the floor and begin raking its claws over his chest, through his armor. Of all the monsters he’d fought this was the worst and he feared he wouldn’t make it this time. He looked back to the boy who yelled for him again, telling him to run and save himself but with a determined face he screamed back ‘NO’,  grabbed the sword and sliced it across the monsters chest. It screamed and stumbled back to clutch it’s bleeding chest, the boy using the opportunity to attack other parts of it. It swung at him wildly but he was able to duck from each swing. In a final move he aimed the blade high to its chest and stabbed the monster through its heart. It screeched and flailed before collapsing, a final gurgle came from its maw and its slimy tongue lolled out of its mouth. It was dead, its victims were avenged.

The boy went to Freddy to help him up who kept a hand to his chest to cover his wounds, putting his arm over his shoulder to try and help his much bigger rescuer back to his ship, sitting him down on a seat inside.

“Thank you Gregory. I had thought I would be coming to your rescue but in the end you came to mine, you have my deepest gratitude and I shall be forever in you dept.” He bowed his head to the boy.

“I was just doing what you told me to do when you found me, to be brave oh look the lights are back on.”

Freddy looked up from the pool chair he was sitting on to their house now lit up again after the black out.

“Dad come on we can finish the movie now!”

He followed his son back inside, watching him sidestep the Nerf guns and darts littering the floor before jumping over the mutant space rabbit still playing dead on the floor.

“Dad get up!”

“Can’t, you killed me.” Bonnie rasped around his still out tongue.

Gregory pulled the foam sword out of Bonnie’s armpit where he ‘stabbed’ him and started hitting him with it to get him up only making Bonnie laugh before yelling ‘it’s still alive!’ and grabbing the brown bear boy to mercilessly tickle him in penance for his attack. He wasn’t related to them by blood but he was just as ticklish as Freddy. He managed to wriggle out of Bonnie’s hold giggling while he ran to turn the TV back on.

“Can we have ice-cream?” Gregory asked Freddy who’d watched the whole scene amused.

“Sure, pick whatever flavor you want.”

Gregory scrambled over to the kitchen while Freddy came to stand next to his husband who was still lying on the ground.

“Are you going to get up?”

“Can’t, I’m dead.”

Freddy huffed but reached down for Bonnie to grab his offered hand and pull him up.

“Did you use whipped cream to make it look like you were foaming at the mouth?”

“Yep, did it work? Did I look like a terrifying mutant space rabbit?”

“Oh yes it was very terrifying, I thought you’d truly gone rabid.”

Bonnie scoffed and was pulled closer to Freddy by the arm around his waist.

“You do still have some cream on your lip though…”

Freddy leant down to kiss Bonnie which only led to more kissing then an exaggerated ‘eww’ from their young son in the kitchen who thought it was gross watching his dads kiss, so they did it more until he told them he wouldn’t let them have any ice-cream if they kept doing it which just made them laugh more, they’d never want to miss out on that.

[windermeresimblr]

The Bachelor Beaumaris, 8.1

Afterwards, the group moves to the salon, where they watch the flowers drying on the mantelpiece.

Vivian: I've heard that roses are quite tasty in cooking.

Amalie approves of this topic.

Gregory: But that can't be a very strong flavor.

Gregory: I suppose if you had a lot of rose petals, it might be enhanced.

Mathilde: I enjoy walking in the halls on rainy days, but I sometimes miss having more new things to see.

Gregory: At Ha--w--k Hall, I've heard their long gallery is almost entirely glazed over. Perhaps that would solve both problems?

[according2thelore]

nine people you want to get to know better

tagged by @ihatedean! thank you so much for tagging us!

Charlotte:

Last Song: Gemini Moon by Reneé Rapp (i love that lesbian so much)

Favorite Color: purple <3

Last Movie/TV Show: After Everything w the gworls (it was horrendous, i am afraid of men, particularly hardin) (why did they name him that? it sounds like hard on), last TV show was Percy Jackson and the Olympians (lizzy and i agreed that we liked it but it was at times disappointing)

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: sweet, which is a problem because i discovered a hack for infinite peanut m&ms, don't ask any questions, lizzy is screaming, crying, and throwing up

Relationship Status: single (sadly)

Last Thing I Googled: hair mask for bleached hair (redundant but ok)

Current Obsession: the game I Want Watermelon, i feel like a little ipad baby every time i'm on the train playing it on the way to my big girl 9-to-5

Last Book: A Shot in the Dark by Victoria Lee, it was good but it was really sad. it was a book about addiction with a queer romance mixed in.

Looking Forward To: moving! i finally found roommates (rip lizzy)

Lizzy:

Last Song: Big Black Car by Gregory Alan Isakov

Favorite Color: red and yellow!

Last Movie/TV Show: currently watching S5 of The Crown, and last movie i watched was After Everything w/ charlotte and our other friends (so fucking bad, i had a great time, we made bingo cards)

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: sweet! i have such a demonic sweet tooth that i actually have to get a cavity filled today :(

Relationship Status: single

Last Thing I Googled: crystal palace match schedule

Current Obsession: supernatural, but merlin is always lurking around every corner

Last Book: admittedly (like most authors i've chatted with) i read like an absolute fiend at a dastardly pace, currently reading Poppy Jenkins by Clare Ashton, but last finished book was Mortal Follies by Alexis Hall, which was massively disappointing :( i was really hoping it would be so good!

Looking Forward To: i'm going abroad in a month, which is exciting!

thank you so much again, this was fun! we're tagging: @pookeenpie  @paellegere @boywifesammy @weirdbrosinc @weirdbrothers @jellybracelet @babybrothershaped @digitalmeowmix @fictionallemons

[sea-owl]

In your twilight au do they all have different ways of coping w their newfound frenzy for their mates? Like in twilight doesn’t Edward fuck off for a good few weeks? Maybe that’s why Colin gets to traveling: so he doesn’t accidentally eat pen.

Anthony and Benedict turn into fuck boys, like they already were at Aubrey Hall but it's just made worse now that they have easy access to brothels.

Kate drives Anthony up a wall, and he sadly can't push her against a wall and take her like he wants. He has to properly court her. Kate just makes it so hard though with her constantly fighting him! Thank god she hasn't tried to bite him yet.

Benedict also dives into his painting so he doesn't dive underneath Sophie's skirts. He paints her in all different poses and clothes. Some are more risqué then others.

Colin wants to scream because the one who drives him insane is only 17. Technically, yes, she could get married, but most agree, that's too young for the marriage mart. He has to run off every few weeks to clear his head so he doesn't do anything dumb. Colin has to remind himself to take it slow with Penelope.

Daphne would be an interesting one because I can see her doing a few different things. I see her getting all this extra energy due to her being around her mate and not being able to do something about it. So I can see her throwing herself into the season full force so she has a way to distract herself and get some of that energy out. Or I can see her taking a lot more hunting trips, not always animals depending on how much time she has, but she only eats the animals. She just has to get the energy out, the one time she let it sit too long she got into fist fight with her brothers.

The letters they send home to their siblings has them on the edge of their seats. Eloise, Francesca, Gregory, and Hyacinth have bets going of who's gonna crack first and which of their new in-laws is gonna get turned first.

Edmund and Violet are wondering if they should've sent one of them with the kids. Nah it will be okay.

[townsenddecades]

1308 – Day 2

It’s the summer harvest!

With Benedict, Bejamin and the girls helping out, it is still hard work, but doesn’t take as long as it would have done if father and son would have had to manage on their own. Only Gregory, Simon and Anne don’t take part, the former two because they are still too young, the latter because she is busy enough with her housework as it is. She does make sure they have plenty to eat and drink, however.

And what a crop it is! It is even better than in the previous summer and leaves their stores and their purse both full. Ample reason to celebrate, as far as the people of Tovar are concerned.

(The Watcher asks you to kindly ignore Anne’s suspiciously modern-looking cleaning-implement.)

When the harvest is done, Anne takes the walk over to Tovar, to sell their produce, accompanied by Edith, who wants to look in at the Watmore’s house, to see how their harvest has gone. They are surprised and rather happy to meet Robert at the market place, who is on a patrol trip around the countryside with Sir Silas. They use the time to catch up and make sure that Robert is well-cared for in his new home.

He assures them that while he misses them all dreadfully, he is learning a lot and that Sir Silas and his men are treating him kindly. While Anne doesn’t know if she believes him wholly, it is a comfort to see her son.

Afterwards, Edith makes good on visiting the Watmore’s cottage, where she meets not only Mrs. Watmore and her twin daughters, but William, who had made himself rather scarce during her previous visits. Truthfully, he had been working in remote parts of the parish, part of his duties as a serf, and hadn’t been home much himself.

Now, however, his eyes gleam when he spots her. “Edie! It’s so good to see you again.”

They get to reminiscing about simpler childhood days and are soon comfortably talking as the sun goes down outside. After not seeing him for so long, Edith had almost forgotten how much she enjoys spending time in William’s company. Her father eventually comes in as well, and with William’s parents, siblings and her own Da filling the small cottage, Edith doesn’t hesitate when William asks her to slip outside to stargaze.

Back inside, Benedict is deep in conversation as well, though not with the same youthful exuberance as the two youths outside. He is talking about the harvest and their families’ wellbeing with Elsie Watmore, besides exchanging news about the parish.

“Have you heard that the Baroness has died?”, she asks, with a look towards Elbenhawke Hall on its hill.

“Of course I have. Dreadful business. Apparently, she was heartbroken by losing her daughter.”

“And her son.” Elsie shuddered. “I can’t even imagine. Although there are joyous things, as well. William and Edith seem to get along rather well, don’t they?” She glances outside their window, where the two young people’s laughter can be clearly heard. Benjamin can’t help but smile.

“Don’t play coy, Elsie, I know what you’re hinting at. They have always gotten along well. We’ll see what develops out of it.”

“But you wouldn’t be opposed? I know Edith could do better than to marry a serf.”

“She could”, he agrees. “But Anna marrying the Crawley boy will be costly. I don’t know if we could afford another such marriage in the next few years, and a suitor might not like to wait that long. Besides, I know your family would treat her well.”

Elsie laughs. “Why, I don’t know whether to be offended or touched. But I’m grateful all the same.”

They don’t have to wait long to see which way the wind is blowing. In fact, William Watmore makes his decision while he and Edith are still joking about what they see in the constellations and the passing clouds. So when she gets up to go inside, he instead pulls her away from the house, so he can have at least a little chance of not being overheard.

“I was really happy to see you again, Edie. I didn’t know how much I had missed you until we met this afternoon.”

She smiles. “The feeling’s mutual, Will. You aren’t even half as annoying as you were when we were children.”

That startles a laugh out of him. “I’m glad, because I really enjoy your company. And, if I may say so, you look lovelier than even when we last saw each other.” He gets a little closer to her, taking her hand. It’s as if sparks are going out from that contact, but instead of flinching back, Edith just grips his hand tighter. Her heart is pounding, but not in an uncomfortable way. She feels drawn to him in a way she can’t quite explain.

It isn’t entirely unexpected when he kisses her, but she still gasps. He pulls back.

“I’m sorry, Edie. It was too soon, wasn’t it?”

“No.” And she grabs him by the collar and pulls him towards her again. “But not nearly enough.”

This time, neither of them flinches back when they kiss.

He rests his forehead against hers when they part. “I’ve wanted to do that since I saw you this afternoon.”

She lets out a startled laugh. “You could have said something sooner. We could have spend the evening very enjoyably. Not that talking to you wasn’t nice.”

“I’m glad you enjoy both. Because I…I want you to marry me, Edie. I like having you around, and my mother adores you. I’m sure we could make a good family together.”

This time, she does pull back, if only to stare at him incredulously. “Is this a proposal?”

“Er…yes. I know your sister has this entire fancy courtship, but I felt I would go mad if I didn’t ask you already. I’m sorry if it wasn’t very…what you wanted.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I was just surprised, is all. I didn’t exactly expect a marriage proposal when I walked here. This has all gone rather quickly.” She takes a deep breath. “But I think I know my answer.”

She does love his family. She doesn’t know if she loves him exactly, at least in the way a woman is supposed to love her husband, but she loves spending time in his company, and he makes her feel alive in a way she can’t describe. She is still tingly all over from their heated kiss. Of course she knows she will be taking on hardships she wouldn’t if she married a freed man, and that they will have to get the Earl’s permission, but in that moment, she is sure it will be worth it.

So she quickly reassures him that of course, her answer is “Yes.”

To say that Benedict is surprised when William and Edith walk in hand in hand to announce their intent to marry and ask for his blessing is an understatement, but true to his word, he gives his consent readily – after making sure this is what his daughter really wants. The already joyful mood becomes celebratory after that, with the entire Watmore family congratulating the young couple, and Benedict can’t help smiling at Ediths dreamy expression when they walk home through the moonlit fields.

Prev: 1308, Day 1 <--> Next: 1308, Day 3

[1016anon]

Title: Tainted Love Author: 1016anon Fandom: Bridgerton Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sharma

A/N -- Murder, mayhem, horror, graphic descriptions of bloody stuff, supernatural weirdness. Spot the (not so subtle) reference to Hadestown!

-6-

Hyacinth made her way through the dark halls, trying to get to her rooms when she saw a figure sneaking down the hall, going towards the stairs to the kitchen.  She carefully shielded the light of her candle with her hand; she didn't want the person-- whoever it was-- to know she was following them.

She tailed the person down the stairs but hid by the entrance to the kitchen.  Peering around the corner, she saw a familiar figure open the drawer to the dull knives and gasped.  The noise alerted the person, who whirled around, but Hyacinth had stepped into the kitchen with her candle anyway.

"Gregory!?!?!" she whisper-yelled.  "What are you doing?"

"Hyacinth-- what are you-- were you following me?" he asked, caught out, nervous, fearful, and angry.

"I saw you-- I saw you put the knife back in the drawer!"

"Shh!!  Be quiet!  And it's not what it looks like."

Gregory tried to walk out of the kitchen, but Hyacinth blocked his way.

"Really?"

"Yes, really!" he hissed as he pushed past her.

She hurried to follow him and managed to grab his arm, trying to pull him back and make him face her.

"Because it looks like you had the murder weapon in your hand and you were trying to sneak it back!"

"No, it's not the murder weapon-- let go!" Gregory tried to twist away and free himself.  "That one was a different knife--"

"How do you know it's a different knife if you aren't the one who tried to kill Benedict!"

"Keep your voice down!  Everyone can hear!"

"Tell me!"

"Hyacinth, get off of me!"

"Not until you tell me--"

"I can explain everything, but let's just get out of here first!"

"Why should I believe you?" she demanded.

"I didn't do it, Hy!  I didn't do anything, I can prove it to you--"

Gregory tried to drag himself and his sister up the stairs.  Furious whispering followed, voices overlapping and increasingly urgent.

"If you have nothing to hide, you should be able to tell me anywhere in front of anyone!"

"I'm not hiding anything!"

"You're not acting like someone who's innocent, so if you don't tell me right now what you were doing with the knife, I'm going to--"

"Is that a threat?!"

"Does it have to be?"

"You've got it all wrong!  Don't talk about things you don't understand!"

They both froze.

There were voices.  Two voices getting closer to the stairs.  Gregory tried to take advantage of the distraction and make a run for it, but Hyacinth caught him in her grip like a vise.

At that moment, a crack of thunder shook the foundations of the house; four voices screamed in bloody terror as everything plunged into complete darkness.  The thunder continued--

bang!

crash!

crack!

After a moment of silence in the pitch black, the two maids heard frantic footsteps scrambling up the stairs-- they squeaked again in surprise.

But that was nothing compared to the sight which greeted them when they managed to light their candles again:

Miss Hyacinth sprawled at the foot of the stairs to the kitchen, dead.  Her neck was at an unnatural angle and her eyes wide in shock, as though she hadn't seen death coming for her.

The maids screamed and screamed and screamed.

They ran for the doors to get out of the house but--

It was locked.

Everyone was trapped inside.

--

When Angus told Luke he had an "easy job" to oversee the transfer of a kidnapped lady (i.e. make sure she doesn't escape while they made the journey from Kent to London), this was not what Luke had imagined: wearing borrowed livery, trying to navigate the enormous maze of a very creepy manor.  He'd gotten turned around at least four times now and considered it a miracle he hadn't been thrown out.

Why can't we wait until they come back to London?

Are you telling me how to do my job, boy?

No, sir, Mr. Angus, sir, but it seems like it would be simpler to wait.

It would be simpler, Angus had growled, but the damned ship to India sets sail in two days, and there ain't another one for another four months.

Why does it have to be India, sir?  Why not some other foreign parts?  The Continent?

Devil if I know, but this is the job.  And unless we deliver on the job, we won't get paid.  It's what the lady wanted, and it ain't our business to ask why.

How'm I to get to Kent, sir?

Sam sent this-- says he's reserved a spot on a coach for you.  And he'll have a carriage at the house waiting for the lady, so you don't need to worry about that.

Now here he was, sneaking about the rooms of Aubrey Hall, searching for,

A lady-- Lady Violet told him.  She's tall with dark hair and dark skin.  She's from India herself.

Yes ma'am.

You'll probably find her in the library-- that's her favorite room.

Yes ma'am.

The lady turned away, very obviously dismissing him.  Luke fidgeted.  He wasn't used to being in the presence of highborn ladies.

However, there had clearly been some sort of breakdown in communication along the way.  Luke had been told very clearly that he was only guarding the lady.  From Kent, to London.  Normally, Luke might have some objections on taking a lady from her home against her will, but this lady was the wife of the Blind Man.  Luke was fine with that.

But it was with the understanding that she would already be kidnapped.  He had not been hired to conduct the kidnapping.  He did not want to try to kidnap her.  Kidnapping was not in his skill set.  He guarded things.  He was good at guarding things.  Give him a box and a stick and he would guard the box very well with his stick.

Luke was not sure at all how to proceed.  Angus took care of this kind of thing.  He brokered the deals.  And Luke had expected to meet Sam, not a Lady.  Instead, Sam hurried him into a room where the lady sat with her needle and cloth (was this what noble ladies did all day?) and she told him the Lady Kate was tall, had black hair and dark skin.

He didn't know how to tell her that kidnapping was not part of the deal.  Or rather, he was trying to right now.  Only she was looking at him with great suspicion and Luke felt like he was five seconds away from being scolded by Granny Jenkins.

Did you need something?

No ma'am, that is, ma'am, um--

Luke fidgeted, then figured how hard could it be?  He was strong.  Kidnapping was probably no different from stealing a thing and then guarding it, right?  Right.

Where's the library?  Ma'am?

Through the hall, take a left, then a right when you get to the Green Parlor, and then straight down the hall to the end.

Well, here he was, having taken a left, then a right (he didn't know which room was the Green Parlor, but Luke figured it was the room which had the most green in it.  Difficult, since none of the rooms were green), but when he got to the hall, it was very short with no room at the end of it, only a table with a vase.  He would have liked to steal the vase-- he would have liked to steal a great many things.  Maybe he could, in the time between knocking the lady out and waiting for the promised carriage.

When he found the library, no one was there.

By then, Luke had had enough roaming about the eerily bleak halls, dodging the noise of footsteps or voices which seemed to echo from every which way.  The house was giving him the willies, enough so that he was seriously contemplating abandoning the job.  Angus would tear stripes off him, but kidnapping had never been part of the deal anyway.  Luke would just tell Angus that Sam never delivered the kidnapped dark-haired, dark-skinned lady.

He was about to leave when-- just his luck-- a lady walked through the door.  Luke scrambled back, grabbing the closest object he could find: a candlestick.

This lady, however, didn't seem to see or hear anything.  She immediately went to the shelves to find a book, talking to herself sarcastically.  Definitely didn't have dark skin.  She had dark hair, but she looked 100% English and when someone outside the library called Eloise, where are you?, the lady had rolled her eyes and hollered back, I'm in the library! in a truly unladylike fashion.  Luke began to sweat, he was so nervous.

The lady would not leave.  She simply stood there, nose buried in the book, huffing and laughing to herself until another lady, who definitely did not have dark skin or dark hair, walked through.  She was also quite small, shorter than the Eloise lady.

He had been doing his best to hold back a sneeze and was on the verge of losing the battle when the two women finally left the library.

Then, of course, all the candle lights went out even though there wasn't another soul in the room with him.

He'd had enough.  Nothing was worth coming face to face with a ghost-- Luke wasn't going to sit around imperiling his immortal soul just to say he got a glimpse of the devil.  Like any other dock worker worth his salt, Luke was superstitious, and he'd heard enough stories about the Blind Ghost.

Angus would understand.  Angus was Catholic, and they were even more superstitious than sailors.  The Ghost was welcome to her; job wasn't worth the money anyway.

Luke was making his way out of his hiding spot when he came face to face with a woman.

Before he knew what was happening, she screamed that terrifying high pitched sound and then at that moment, a crack of thunder shook the foundations of the house; two voices screamed in bloody terror as everything plunged into complete darkness.  The thunder continued--

bang!

crash!

crack!

After a moment of silence in the pitch black, certain he'd aged ten years, Luke tried to make his way to the door.

He stumbled over a body instead.

But he didn't give it any thought, just intent on getting out of the madhouse.  Then,

A shimmering grey figure appeared in front of him and next to that figure, illuminated by her husband's soft light, was a tall woman with dark hair and dark eyes.

--

He would always claim that he'd asked her to marry him seven days after they'd met, when what he'd really said that first day, fuck-drunk and smiling, was:

come home with me

who are you?

She figured she wanted to know the name of the man who'd made her come just by fucking her-- it was a rare skill and worthy of a memory.  But she had no intention of making early morning trysts with handsome strangers a habit.

the man who's going to marry you--   Anthony, the Viscount Bridgerton

She'd laughed; it was so typical of the men she'd bedded to promise her something so patently ridiculous just because she'd made them come their brains out.  Truly, she could have vanquished empires with the power of her cunt.

Lord Bridgerton.  Are you always like this?

Yes

Well, I'm not

I think you will be

Staring down at her, his kill-callused hands gentle in her hair, palms holding her like something precious because it would have been so easy to break her neck.

Kathani

your scent is like a memory

He inhaled and it was one of the most obscene sounds she'd ever heard-- even the sound of him practically slurping her up couldn't compare.

a rake, is that not what you are?  

I also speak Greek

is this an interview?

no.  come home with me

But Kate pushed him off her and went about straightening her riding habit as best as she could, letting her hair out of her braid to do it again.  Anthony had watched, hypnotized by the sight, entranced by the length, wondering how it would feel to wrap it lovingly around her neck and choke her.

When she finally said yes, they'd gotten married on an ordinary license, with the entire idiocy of the banns, balls, bouquets, banquets.

And it was only after he'd tied her to him in body, law, and soul, that he took her to watch her first fatal show. 

--

"Oh Fran," Kate sighed, bending over to check the girl's pulse.

Nothing, just as she'd suspected.  Francesca's head had a wide gash in it-- deeper than it appeared, Kate guessed.  It was difficult to tell in the low light and Francesca's hair fanned out in a pool of blood.  A pool of blood which was getting larger by the second.

"Kate," Anthony said sharply.

The man-- the bumbling incompetent his mother had hired-- had regained some of his equilibrium, such as it was.  An ordinary man would have reacted purely on panic, but given what appeared to be this man's background as hired muscle, he had no problem raising his arm, heavy candlestick in hand, to club Kate over the head.

Anthony smiled lazily, a feeling of deep, eternal satisfaction sating his basest instincts to see his wife pull the stiletto knife out of her hair to stab the man's eyes.

He'd watched her do this so many times-- simply walk up to someone and with lightning speed rob them of sight.

Like so many wonderful things in life, the first time had been an accident.

She hadn't made her own kill yet.  Anthony had held her hands as they both push a knife through a man's heart, or slit someone's throat, or suffocated them, but she had yet to kill someone without him helping her.

That night, they'd been taken by surprise.  A second and third person-- twin brothers of what was apparently the triplet corpse-- came at them, one charging Anthony and the other attacking Kate.  She fought well, but one of the brothers still managed to disarm her, her favorite knife clattering to the floor and kicked to the corner, out of her reach.  Anthony had dispatched one twin, but he was still too far away to help her.

There would be other nights, but that night was the closest he came to real terror; he'd been almost certain he was going to lose her.  Time slowed.  He saw his wife look to one side, then another, still searching for a weapon, coming up with nothing.  Anthony honestly thought his life had flashed before his eyes.

Then, miraculously, his beautiful, clever, wonderful, ingenious wife pulled one of the long pins from her hair and quick as a snake, stabbed her attacker's eyes.

Anthony watched, awed, as the twin crumpled and Kate stood over the man, panting harshly and victorious, circling like a predator around her wounded prey.  Then Anthony saw a change come over his wife.

She stopped behind the twin and grabbed the man's hair, pulled his head back until his neck was exposed.  With her other hand, she took out a second pin and stabbed it right where Anthony had shown her: the pulsepoint.

The moment hung in the air for a second before she ripped the pin out, probably slicing through the artery.

Blood sprayed forward everywhere, but Anthony could only see Kate, haloed in gold like a goddess.

That night, the sex had been more intense than ever before-- which was saying something, since they already had very intense sex.  And when Kate wore that particular set of pins, the ones she used for her first murder, it was guaranteed to make him hard.  No matter the time, place, or how many times he'd already had her.  It wasn't even a choice-- his body simply reacted and she simply took.

Kate only wore them for very special occasions, like his birthday, or to celebrate his 100th murder.  Anthony knew without question that those were the pins she would be wearing when they began trying for a child.

After that night, she always blinded her quarry.  She enjoyed it, but it was also practical:  It drastically tipped the odds in her favor.  No matter how big, strong, or capable the person might be, Kate was always able to overpower them once they were blind.

Anthony took great pleasure in commissioning special stiletto knives for her, all of them designed to hold her hair in her favorite (his favorite) coiffure and all of them deadly weapons.  There was a trick to it, to make sure she didn't stab herself in her own scalp or end up cutting off all her hair.  Anthony didn't know how to put her hair up, but he always knew how to pull it down-- watching her long, dark curls fall down in a cascade was one of the most simple and sublime pleasures in his life.

He never got tired of the sight.

So of course, since he was greedy, before they went back into Aubrey Hall, he watched her reassemble her coiffure, two stiletto knives in place.  Just so he could witness her pulling them out again.

Which brought them to: The wailing man falling to his knees and dropping his candlestick.

Most women had similar high pitched screams.  Men, however, differed.  This one in particular was more on the switching between wails of agony and moans of pain side of the spectrum.

"He'd make a better ghost than me."

Kate, however, was staring at Anthony, holding the candlestick.

"I dreamed of you," she said.

"I know.  I was there," he said fondly, putting one cold hand to cup her face.  "You were having a great deal of fun without me." 

"You said you could only hold physical objects for a short period of time."

"Did I?"

His wife narrowed her eyes.

"You lied."

"I lied," he said unrepentantly.  "Forgive me?"

The man was trying to crawl away.

Kate took her stiletto knife slammed it in the man's calf, straight through bone and into the wooden floor below.  She took the other stiletto knife out of her hair and did the same with the other leg.

"Then-- that night, you were the one who threw the glass at me."

"I was trying to get your attention, to tell you I was in Kent."

"Then why didn't you stay?" she asked, hurt but trying not to show it.

"Darling, I would have," he replied softly, sincerely.  "I would have stayed if I could, but that stunt set me back in my progress quite a bit.  I wasn't lying about how difficult it was to approach Aubrey Hall-- I think it has something to do with the proximity of my grave."

"I thought ghosts were supposed to haunt their burial grounds," she teased.

"That would be true if that was really me in that urn.  I know you switched my ashes out, darling."

"I won't apologize for doing it."

"I would never ask you to."

The moaning of the man they'd essentially forgotten had turned into begging.  Evidently he'd tried to pull the knives out of his legs and found he could not.  The effort had made him nearly pass out in pain.

"I suppose he's figured out now that he killed the wrong Bridgerton."

"I don't think he was meant to kill me at all," Kate replied, delicately tapping the end of each blade with one of Anthony's paperweights.

The faint harmonic vibration echoed in the shattered bone, like a saw with very fine teeth was cutting through the wreckage.

"Should I be suspicious that no one has heard us?  Or him?"

"Now, whyever would you suspect your loving husband of taking advantage of his supernatural powers?"

"Perhaps because my loving husband has proven himself to be a liar."

"Only out of the greatest love for you, my lovely Wife.  I told you I was coming for you."

"Is that so," she said flatly, but her eyes were glittering with amusement.

"Come here," he beckoned, even though she was already right at his side.

Anthony wrapped his arms around her.

"Do you want to see something interesting?"

"Is it cruel or gruesome?"

"Both."

"You always say that and you're always wrong."

"I tend to find most cruel things to be gruesome, and most gruesome things to be cruel," he shrugged.  "Now even moreso, as a ghost."

"All right," she sighed, but leaned into his cold body.  "What is this thing you want to show me?"

"Here," he pointed to Francesca's corpse.  "Watch."

At first, it was difficult to see-- the room was only illuminated by Anthony's light.  But it became clear that Francesca's hair was growing longer.  Pieces of hair-- some of soaked in blood, some of the not-- moved slowly but surely to the man pinned to the ground.

The man startled when he felt the hair wrap around his ankles, then screamed when the startle only exacerbated his pain.  But the hair didn't stop.  It wrapped around and around his ankles and dragged him towards the corpse; Anthony swiftly rescued Kate's knives before they were swallowed up entirely by Francesca's ever-growing hair.

Francesca's hair grew so long that it crashed over the man in a wave-- he shrieks were muffled by the sudden movement of different strands twining around his entire body, squeezing and constricting like it was testing its own strength.  Meanwhile, Francesca's corpse grew thinner and thinner, skin going grey and gaunt, nearly skeletal by the time the man was completely covered in a thousand ropes of hair, all of different thicknesses and lengths.

Kate could hear the sound of breaking bones and joints popping.  However, the screams were completely blocked by all the hair stuffed in the man's mouth, hair going up his nostrils, hair in his ears, hair poking into the hollows of his eyes.

There were sounds of choking, weak struggling, things continuing to crack and pop very softly until there was nothing but a vague person-shaped thing mummified in hair, every orifice in its face stuffed full to bursting.

Then the hair did something completely unexpected-- it moved the corpse so that it lay next to Francesca, side by side like two statues resting on top of tombs.  Francesca looked like Rapunzel had eaten her prince but decided to save the body to use as enormous hair curlers.

"You're right," Kate said.  "That is cruel and gruesome."

Anthony simply kissed her:  He loved his wife so much.

"I knew you'd agree with me."

Right on cue, the door opened.

"Hello, Mother," he smiled, a shark in bloody water. "We've been expecting you."

--

"I should tell her."

Daphne paced in small circles in one of the many parlors in Aubrey Hall.  This particular room happened to be in a more remote corner of the house-- less of a chance that one of their siblings, or their mother, might walk in.

"Yes, I'm sure that will go very well," Eloise snorted.  "Kate, you need to turn yourself in to the constable's office and confess that you attempted to murder our brother."

"Then must you agree she's guilty in all of this."

Mulish silence.

"Eloise, we did the right thing, turning Anthony in."

"I didn't turn him in-- you took what I told you in confidence and did whatever you liked because the Duchess of Hastings couldn't be associated with such a scandal."

"Then why did you follow him in the first place?"

"I didn't think I would see--"

"But you did, Eloise, you saw our brother killing those defenseless children--"

"I thought I saw him stab a person, but I told you I wasn't certain--"

"What else was I to do with that knowledge?  It's an unforgivable crime and he needed to be held to account.  Those people deserve justice."

"Justice," she sneered.  "I see.  And the fact that you had an enormous argument with him two days prior had nothing to do with it."

"I can separate my personal feelings from what's right and wrong.  And it was the right thing to do," Daphne stopped pacing and sat next to her sister.  "I'm sorry I had to distance myself from the family during the trial, but I'm here now."

"You're here because you and Simon haven't spoken to each other for months and you can't stand being alone at Clyvedon."

"You know nothing of my marriage, Eloise, and you know nothing of marriage," Daphne snapped.  "Anthony saw to that."

"Yes, and now it's Benedict who blocks me at every turn.  Don't pretend you did anything for my sake-- you merely replaced one intolerable brother with the only brother I actually liked, but who's becoming more intolerable every day."

"That's not fair to Benedict, Eloise."

"It's true!  I don't understand why he insists on defending her.  Mama was right-- Anthony changed after he married Kate."

"I suppose it's because Benedict was close to Anthony, and he feels a sense of obligation to look after her."

"What does it matter.  Liam's engaged now, to Miss Pepperman," Eloise made a face, then frowned.  "This plan of yours, why not just turn Kate in?"

"I didn't say we should turn her in, I said we should confront her."

"But if we know she tried to kill Benedict, wouldn't it be better not to warn her?  Unless," Eloise looked at her sister speculatively.  "What was that unforgivable act you committed against Simon?"

"Nothing," Daphne replied too quickly.  "Simon lied to me first, and even if it was so terrible, he forgave me."

"If he's still not speaking to you--"

"Don't try to lecture me about something you could never understand."

"The lady doth protest too much, methinks," she said in a sing-song voice, gleeful to needle her perfect sister's not-so-perfect life.

"Why should Anthony get away with literal murder!  Why should men be allowed to lie and commit crimes and carry on having affairs while women must adhere to another standard?"

Daphne and Eloise screamed when thunder suddenly ripped through their eardrums and lightning nearly blinded them as it flashed to reveal two figures but only one shadow.  A freezing wind rushed through the room and slammed the parlor doors.

"Why indeed," Kate said mildly.

Anthony stood behind her, hands possessive on her waist and grinning like Christmas come early.

"Quite, dear Sister."

And, just because he could, he pulled Kate impossibly closer to him, one hand anchoring her in place and the other gently moving his wife's face to his-- he kissed her; he devoured her; he showed her and everyone in the room exactly how much he loved her and the lengths he would go to keep her.

"That was cruel," Kate whispered to him.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw his sisters pale with supernatural fear.  They probably thought he and Kate were plotting something dastardly for their demise.  Or maybe it was just the expression on his face-- Kate always said he looked like murder when he was hungry for her.

"I like to take every opportunity I can get."

He kissed her again before she could say something smart.

In the background, Daphne and Eloise were pounding at the closed doors, screaming for help.

"We have a job to do, Anthony," Kate sighed into his mouth.

"I missed you," he replied.

Anthony and Kate stood in the middle of the storm, furniture flying around them, glass and vases shattering with the shards flying every which-way-- some must have sliced through Daphne and Eloise, if the shrill crying meant anything.  Cracks appeared in the walls, dripping with the ooze of burst eyeballs.

Then the screaming took on a new quality-- Anthony looked at the ceiling to see fat, slimy chains of intestines dropping out like the sausages hanging in the butcher's shop.  Bags of stomachs and necrosed livers lined with fat dangled like puppets while septic blood mixed with the slop of busted colon shit, bile and stomach acid rained down, dissolving the carpeting, eating holes in the polished wooden surfaces.

Daphne and Eloise were covered in the black tar of a smoker's lungs, hair dripping with what could only be the unraveled noodles of a human brain.  The acid left burns on their skin and he was mildly surprised, but not totally stunned, to see their eyes had been melted out of their skulls.

Kate made a noise of exasperation.

"Did you really have to do that?  I was looking forward to popping their eyes out," she made an expression Anthony dared not call a pout.  "You've spoiled the best part."

"I'm sorry darling," he said, and kissed her again.  "I'll leave the eyes for you next time."

"That wasn't a request, my Lord," she said haughtily, then turned her attention away from him.  "You were lamenting the double standards that society has for men and women, Duchess.  A favorite topic of yours also, is it not, Eloise?"

Anthony very reluctantly let her leave the circle of his arms.  He was fascinated to see that the intestines which were flopping all over the floor suddenly began wiggling-- moving like inchworms-- towards the two crawling figures who kept falling into wandering piles of eyeballs which squished and burst into jelly.

You should both know that half of Anthony's kills were mine."

"All the eyeballs were hers too," he grumbled.  "Do you know I had to start popping eyes just because she took such a liking to it?  I didn't even want the moniker 'Blind Man.'"

"You didn't have to do it," his wife said.

"As though I was going to risk letting all of London know there were two of us.  They could have at least given us a better name."

"Such as?"

Anthony thought for a moment.

When Daphne and Eloise felt the writhing intestinal worms, they slipped and screamed in hysteria.  He rather thought he'd been merciful, to be honest, that they weren't able to see the room around them.  Then again, given their states of panic, perhaps human imagination had conjured something worse.

He waited for the noise to recede (saying die down seemed in rather poor taste) to tell Kate:

"Cupid."

"Cupid," she said, unimpressed.

"Yes.  Love is blind, and all."

"But that would mean you murdered for love, which isn't true."

"I did murder for love!"

Kate raised her eyebrow.

The intestines shyly wrapped themselves around Daphne and Eloise's necks, pausing every so often as though asking Kate for permission.  Of course, this brought on more screaming, quickly cut off when the organs tied themselves into a knot.

"Some of them," he paused.  "A few of them."

His wife continued to stare.

"You can't deny that all my recent kills have been for love of you."

"You see, Daphne--"

"I don't think she can, darling."

Daphne and Eloise coughed and gasped for breath, hands scrabbling at the bloody guts choking them.

Kate glared at him.

"That joke never gets old for you, does it."

"Death has changed very little of who I am," he conceded, cheeky.

She rolled her eyes, stole a kiss, and looked down at the two women covered in viscera.  The organs loosened their grip before Daphne and Eloise passed out.  It was as delightful as it was uncanny.  For a moment, the room was silent save the sound of their wheezing.

"I pity them, in truth," Kate said suddenly, toeing one of the slithering organs.

"Oh?" Anthony tilted his head.  "Aside from the obvious fact they'll soon be dead?"

"We never took from each other."

"Mm, I think I took you a fair number of times.  Quite a lot, if I recall."

"You never tried to force a child from me, not the way your sister did from Simon."

One night-- the anniversary of his father's death, in fact-- Simon had gotten very, very drunk at Mondrich's club.  Drunk enough that he began screaming things at Anthony that his normally reserved, extremely controlled friend would never say.  Things about never having wanted to get married, wishing Anthony had shot him, never having wanted children, wishing he'd never come back to England, Daphne pressuring him for more children when he was happy with the two.

Fear that she'd get children out of him whether he wanted it or not.

Mondrich had allowed Anthony-- with great reluctance and promises of vengeance-- to take Simon back to Bridgerton House to let him sleep it off.  The next morning, Simon and Anthony spoke of the incident once, and only once-- he didn't need to tell Kate because she already knew.  She and Simon had been close.

That conversation marked the beginning of the end of Daphne's marriage.  Anthony could not say he was surprised when his sister came to him, asking for him to "talk some sense" into his best friend.  He supposed she must have thought him responsible in some way.  Though, the thought that she might hold Kate responsible made him growl-- the sound shook the house.

Kate looked at him, at once concerned and amused.

"To be fair, my darling," he smiled, dark thoughts vanished, "if you didn't respond well to the first murder, I might have been forced to kill you."

"Only if I didn't kill you first," she said primly.

Anthony shook his head and laughed.  His wife's response had been more than he'd ever imagined and far better than anything he'd ever dreamed.

"This is why she's perfect for me, Daph.  She and I want the same things-- we've always wanted the same things."

Because Kate had watched him with lidded eyes, desire a physical force between them, offering him her fingers to suck and lick and lave with his tongue while the man under his hands kicked weakly, body seizing in its death throes.  She stood by him, before him, in front of him, and then let him take her, let him taste how wet she'd gotten with her want for him-- how much she hungered for Anthony, her husband who had just choked the life out of the corpse cooling not ten feet from where he was fucking her.

That was the first night he watched her let go, so beautiful as she screamed for him, biting and clawing like the vicious creature he knew she'd kept caged inside too long.

When he'd set that monster free, there was no going back for either of them.

"You're both monsters," Eloise managed to say, voice whispery and hoarse.

The room's temperature plummeted.

"You should know, Eloise," Anthony's voice was a distant roll of thunder, "that I know you lied to Mother.  Imagine my surprise when I found it was your dear, loyal footman Sam who gave Mother the names of all those hired hands."

"I didn't know--"

"There's only so many times you can feign ignorance before people think you're stupid.  Who would have thought you held dear Mother's opinion in such high regard, that you would tell her Kate broke off your engagement to Lenny."

"Liam," Kate corrected.

"Darling, do I look like I care?  After all these years and all those political rallies, she's still a little girl, rattling around big words like responsibility but never owning the consequences of her actions."

This time, when the bloody, bulging worms tightened, they didn't stop.

"She understands what everyone else is responsible for.  Isn't that enough?" Kate smirked.

Anthony grabbed her waist and pulled her crushingly close.  He tangled one hand through her long, beautiful hair and forced her to look into his eyes.  If life were fair, his gaze should have blinded her the same way her smile had decimated his on that fateful morning.

"No it's not."

Over the roar of the shrieking wind and the shrieking screams of his sisters, Anthony only heard Kate's fluttering heartbeat.

The silhouettes revealed by flashes of lightning showed two necks pinched to a point, throats tied off and windpipes narrowed to the width of a needle.

"It's never enough," he breathed before kissing her breathless again.

Behind them, two heads toppled off bodies covered in eyeball-fat.

The blind and gaping faces rolled through the open door.

[letterful]

here be two decidedly incomprehensive lists based on highly arbitrary criteria — off the top of my head and in no particular order:

rattling like a bag of bones:

"gretel, from a sudden clearing" & "the promise" & "what the silence says" & "calvary" by marie howe,

"i watched you disappear” by anya krugovoy silver,

"song of the hen's head" & "a sad child" & "the saints" by margaret atwood,

"bruise ghazal" & "i go back to may 1937" by sharon olds,

"harold's leap" & "do take muriel out" & "the orphan reformed" & "not waving but drowning" by stevie smith,

"we who are your closest friends" by phillip lopate,

"the loft" by richard jones,

"eating together" & "death poem" & "party" & "the numbers" by kim addonizio,

"thanks" by w. s. merwin,

"the bee meeting" & "lady lazarus" & "daddy" & "sheep in fog" & "fever 103" by sylvia plath,

"yesterday he still looked in my eyes" by marina tsvetaeva,

"we don't know how to say goodbye" & "the last toast" by anna akhmatova,

"unknown girl in the maternity ward" & "lessons in hunger" & "the truth the dead know" by anne sexton,

"anne sexton’s last letter to god" by tracey herd,

"aubade" & "the mower" by philip larkin,

"the blue bowl" by jane kenyon,

"her long illness" by donald hall,

"myth" by natasha trethewey,

"in bertram's garden" by donald justice,

"the drowned girl" & "the leavetaking" by bertolt brecht,

"ovid in the third reich" by geoffrey hill,

"musee des beaux arts" by w. h. auden,

"report from a besieged city" by zbigniew herbert,

"napoleon" by miroslav holub,

"to a poor old woman" by william carlos williams,

"the emperor of ice-cream" by wallace stevens,

"me up at does" by e.e. cummings,

"snow line" by john berryman,

"the hollow men" by t. s. eliot,

"dedication" & "in warsaw" & "a song on the end of the world" by czesław miłosz—

resonating like a bright bell:

"what the living do" & "my dead friends" & "magdalene, afterwards" by marie howe,

"funny" & "a prayer that will be answered" by anna kamieńska,

"woman unborn & "i'll open the window" & "i am panting" & “tomorrow they’ll cut me open” by anna świrszczyńska,

"the book of hours" by b. h. fairchild,

"there is a gold light in certain old paintings" by donald justice,

"when eurydice saw him..." (an excerpt) by gregory orr,

"sometimes, when the light" & "the blind leading the blind" & "there are mornings" & "monet refuses the operation" by lisel mueller,

"try to praise the mutilated world" by adam zagajewski,

"the end and the beginning" & "the tower of babel" & "discovery" & "thank-you note" by wisława szymborska,

"while eating a pear" & "the dead" by billy collins,

"never again would the birds' song be the same" by robert frost,

"a meeting" by wendell berry,

"death at daybreak" by anne reeve aldrich,

"next time" by joyce sutphen,

"the god abandons antony" by c. p. cavafy,

"goodtime jesus" by james tate,

"lana turner has collapsed" by frank o'hara,

"all my friends are finding new beliefs" by christian wiman,

"angels" by maurya simon,

"dirge without music" by edna st. vincent millay,

"i’m glad your sickness" by marina tsvetaeva,

"you will hear thunder" by anna akhmatova,

"do not go gentle into that good night" & "and death shall have no dominion" by dylan thomas,

"an arundel tomb" & "love, we must part now" & "high windows" by philip larkin,

"please read" by mary ruefle,

"men made out of words" by wallace stevens,

"ash wednesday" by t. s. eliot,

"on angels" & "this world" & "if there is no god" & "encounter" by czesław miłosz.

i do love listmaking…

[lboogie1906]

Dr. Roscoe E. Lewis (December 3, 1904 - 1961) was a chemistry professor at Hampton University and a scholar who led efforts to document and publish an account of African American experiences in Virginia. He was a fellow of the Rosenwald Foundation.

He was born in DC’s Anacostia neighborhood. He led the African American unit of the Virginia Writers’ Project.

He wrote about his work to W. E. B. Du Bois before a conference they were attending at Atlanta University.

For his Writers’ Project work, he produced films and audiotapes. Officials censored discussions of cruel punishments, forced marriages, family separations, ridicule of whites, and praise of Union soldiers from the interviews. Publication of Writers’ Project research from Black researchers was generally obstructed.

He was recruited by his Howard University colleague Sterling Brown to lead an all-Black unit of the Federal Writers’ Project in Virginia, focused on Black history.

He and Brown and their staff across Virginia, including Susie R.C. Byrd and other interviewers, faced strong resistance from the white public, skeptics in Congress, and J. Edgar Hoover’s F.B.I. Hoover himself saw Black intellectuals — historians, poets, scientists —as dangerous radicals.

The Negro in Virginia, the first in a series planned on Black history nationwide, was published in 1940. He published more interviews over the next twenty years.

His 1943 essay, “The Role of Pressure Groups,” notes America’s hypocrisy of having Black Americans fighting for freedom abroad while refusing to pass any “anti-lynching law with teeth in it.” Across the South, attacks on Black soldiers “point to a rapidly-approaching collapse of law and order in America,” he wrote.

He married Lena Gregory Hall. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence #alphaphialpha

[ulkaralakbarova]

For decades, next-door neighbors and former friends John and Max have feuded, trading insults and wicked pranks. When an attractive widow moves in nearby, their bad blood erupts into a high-stakes rivalry full of naughty jokes and adolescent hijinks. Credits: TheMovieDb. Film Cast: John Gustafson: Jack Lemmon Max Goldman: Walter Matthau Ariel Truax: Ann-Margret Grandpa Gustafson: Burgess Meredith Melanie: Daryl Hannah Jacob Goldman: Kevin Pollak Chuck: Ossie Davis Snyder: Buck Henry Mike: Christopher McDonald Moving Man: John Carroll Lynch Weatherman: Steve Cochran Pharmacist: Joe Howard Nurse: Isabell O’Connor Fisherman: Charles Brin Fisherman: Oliver Osterberg Film Crew: Director: Donald Petrie Original Music Composer: Alan Silvestri Producer: Richard C. Berman Editor: Bonnie Koehler Director of Photography: Johnny E. Jensen Art Direction: Mark Haack Special Effects Coordinator: Peter Albiez Chief Lighting Technician: Patrick Marshall Key Costumer: Trina Mrnak Location Manager: Cat Thompson Sound Re-Recording Mixer: Rick Hart Foley: Ellen Heuer Dialogue Editor: Vic Radulich Special Effects Supervisor: Greg C. Jensen Musician: Tom Boyd Associate Producer: Kathy Sarreal Casting: Sharon Howard-Field Second Assistant Director: Molly Muir Leadman: Chris Gibbin Boom Operator: Mark Steinbeck Dialogue Editor: Mike Szakmeister Stunts: Bill McIntosh First Assistant Camera: Jimmy E. Jensen Costume Supervisor: Keith G. Lewis Music Editor: Andrew Silver Production Accountant: Kim Bodner Administration: Peter L. Mullin Costume Design: Lisa Jensen Dialogue Editor: Christopher Assells ADR Editor: Linda Folk Additional Sound Re-Recording Mixer: Kim Waugh Stunts: Spiro Razatos Title Designer: Wayne Fitzgerald First Assistant Director: Douglas E. Wise Sound Re-Recording Mixer: Tom E. Dahl Second Unit: Rosalie Seifert Orchestrator: William Ross Administration: Gregory J. Niska Set Decoration: Clay A. Griffith Makeup Artist: Linda Melazzo First Assistant Director: Randy Suhr Foley: Kevin Bartnof ADR Supervisor: Jessica Gallavan Foley Editor: Eric Gotthelf Sound Recordist: David Behle Best Boy Electrician: Hugh Langtry Assistant Editor: Trudy Yee Construction Foreman: Blaine Marcou Special Effects: Shelly Hawkos Administration: Tom Sann Hairstylist: Linda Rizzuto Key Makeup Artist: Rick Sharp Assistant Property Master: Jerry Swift Sound Re-Recording Mixer: Robert J. Litt Stunt Coordinator: Ernie F. Orsatti Chief Lighting Technician: Pat Blymyer Scoring Mixer: Dennis S. Sands Production Accountant: Susan Montgomery Executive Producer: Dan Kolsrud Property Master: Jim Zemansky Stunts: Ray Lykins First Assistant Camera: Christopher M. Fisher Unit Publicist: Michael Singer Associate Producer: Darlene K. Chan Researcher: Aryn Chapman Sound Effects Editor: Randy Kelley Supervising Sound Effects Editor: Mark P. Stoeckinger Still Photographer: Ron Phillips Construction Coordinator: Douglas Dick Sound Re-Recording Mixer: Wayne Heitman Foley Editor: Patrick N. Sellers First Assistant Editor: Adam C. Frank Color Timer: Dale E. Grahn Supervising Music Editor: Kenneth Karman Dialogue Editor: Chris Hogan Camera Operator: Dick Colean Assistant Costume Designer: Elizabeth Shelton Location Manager: Dave Halls ADR & Dubbing: Thomas J. O’Connell Key Grip: Richard Moran Key Costumer: Hala Bahmet Administration: Lisa D. Menke Hairstylist: Linda De Andrea Assistant Art Director: Jack E. Pelissier Jr. Assistant Sound Editor: Cybele O’Brien Sound Re-Recording Mixer: Elliot Tyson Assistant Sound Editor: Victor Ray Ennis Production Sound Mixer: Russell C. Fager Rigging Gaffer: Tim Marshall Negative Cutter: Donah Bassett Script Supervisor: Susan Bierbaum ADR & Dubbing: Rick Canelli Special Effects: Keane Bonath Associate Editor: Steve Schoenberg Production Design: David Chapman Producer: John Davis Writer: Mark Steven Johnson Movie Reviews: John Chard: Do me a favour. Put your lip over your head… and swallow. Grumpy Old Men is directed by Donald Petrie and written by Mark Steven Johnson. It stars Walter Matthau, Jack Lemmon, Ann-Margret, Kevin Polla...