#Legacy Stanfield

[igrofox]

[previous_next]

После пьяного приключения жизнь Брэдли более-менее вернулась на круги своя.  Пока родители и сестра заняты своими делами, Брэдли и Лидия проводили время с детьми за телевизором. Играя с мальчиками в приставку, мужчина с улыбкой наблюдал как Лия сплетничает с Лидией.

-Пап, а можно Дэн останется у нас на ночь? –лучезарно улыбаясь, Лия была рада что в этом году к их празднику присоединиться Даниель.

-Нет, звёздочка. –в очередной раз давая одному из сыновей выиграть, Брэди наиграно грустно вздохнул дабы не выдать себя. –Дэн побудет у нас некоторое время, но новый год будет встречать дома с сестрой. -Все трое детей синхронно разочаро��анно застонали –Так а ну хватит давить на жалость. У меня уже чувство, что вы Дэну рады больше чем мне.

Пока дети начали ластиться дабы показать что предположение отца ошибочно, Лидия пошла открывать дверь такому ожидаемому гостю.

Обняв давнего друга, девушка нежно улыбнулась –Рада снова тебя видеть. Дети ждут не дождутся тебя.

-Рад это слышать.

На обнимавшись с детьми, Дэн присоединился к играм и семейным посиделкам за ужином. В общем и целым всё шло хорошо, пока к 8 часам в дом Стэнфилдов снова не постучали.  Брэдли с Лией бросились открывать с надеждой увидеть Фелицию, но открыв дверь их ждал неприятный сюрприз в виде Виолетты и Винтер Увайт. Замерев в дверном проеме, Брэдли не думал что когда-то снова в живую увидит бывшую с дочерью. Не поняв резкую тишину, остальное семейство вышло к коридору.

-Привет, Демон. –Неловко улыбнувшись, Вио так же кивнула остальным членам семьи.

-Вио? –Всё ещё не веря своим глазам, Брэд перевел взгляд на девочку. –И…

Поняв что это первая встреча дочери с отцом, Виолетта поспешила представить их друг другу –Винтер. –Присев на уровень роста дочери, девушка продолжала неловко улыбаться –Вини, это твой папа – Брэдли.

[igrofox]

[previous_next]

Сан-Мишуно – квартира Коула Монро – 4 часа до свадьбы

Было около десяти часов утра, когда Коул Монро проснулся из-за успевшего позабыться чувства похмельного обезвоживания.

Медленно приподнявшись на левом локте, мужчина с нескрываемым наслаждением осмотрел девушку, безмятежно спящую рядом с ним. Её длинные рыжие волосы разметались по подушке, а чувственные губы с еще видневшимся остатками вчерашней алой помады были слегка приоткрыты. Столь нежная и в то же время манящая аура девушки, казалась ему чем-то сокровенным и особенным. Он привык к её роковому, яркому и даже провокационному образу. И честно признавался, именно он кружил ему голову, выделяя девушку из тысячи других. Однако, было в этом облаке дурмана и то, о чем он боялся даже ненароком задуматься… Не могло же так случиться, что Фелиция Стэнфилд – была и будет всему вопреки его единственной любовью в жизни.

Осторожно коснувшись женской щеки, усыпанной множеством крохотных веснушек, Монро нежно улыбнулся. А девушка же, вздрогнув от этого невинного жеста, открыла небесно-голубые глаза.

- Доброе утро – сонно пробурчала она, прижимаясь к мускулистой, татуированной груди мужчины.

- Доброе… - хрипло ответил Коул, играя с рыжими пядями волос.

Вздрогнув от прохлады коснувшейся её груди, девушка играючи провела ногтями по спины любовника – Могу я одолжить что ни будь в гардеробе твоей благоверной? Обещаю вернуть в целости и сохранности…

В мгновение ока сказка развеялась, и неприглядная реальность обрушилась на голову мужчины.

От одной только мысли о Фелиции в одежде своей будущей жены что-то внутри него треснуло. – Меня тоже «вернешь в целости и сохранности»?  – Порывисто поднявшись, Монро на ходу надев белье, подошел к стеллажу выбирая что бы предложить девушке из собственной одежды. – Надеюсь, ты не против моих вещей? Раньше они тебе нравились…

- Конечно не против…– Сделав вид, что не заметила перемены в поведении любовника, Фелиция, подтянув покрывало к оголенной груди, поднялась с постели. - Твой вкус мне всегда нравился.

-Да уж, этого у меня не отнять - заправил вьющийся локон за ухо девушки, он, сглотнув ком не высказанных амбиций, предложил – Может примешь ванную, а я пока устрою себе перекур…

Хитро улыбнувшись, Стэнфилд обвила руками его торс –Мы можем вдвоем сделать и то и другое…или ты так намекаешь, что от меня воняет?

-Боже… - хрипло рассмеявшись в ответ, Коул аккуратно приподнял её лицо за подбородок – Ты изумительно пахнешь, но проблема в том, что прямо сейчас ты пахнешь мной…Не думаю, что твой муж это оценит.

-Умеешь же ты испортить момент... – Недовольно цокнув, девушка, забрав из рук блондина футболку удалилась в ванную комнату.

Оставшись в одиночестве, молодой человек достал из заначки, не открытую пачку крепких сигарет. Пока сотни голосов в его голове повторяли из раза в раз один и тот же вопрос – «Ты уверен, что сможешь?». И теперь он точно знал ответ, который всем был очевиден с самого начала.

-*Сука! Накануне собственной свадьбы…Ну что я за дебил?!* - Выйдя за пределы «супружеской» спальни, Коул невольно зацепился взглядом за ряд фоторамок на книжной полке. – Блядь – Достав парочку сигарет, он заложил одну из них за ухо, а другую быстро подкурив, выдохнул небольшое облако табачного дыма, оставляя начатую пачку перед фотографией обнимающихся Моники и Элли.

Его разъедало, от того столько раз он прилюдно бил себя в грудь, уверяя всех и каждого, что остепенился, нагулялся и нашел ту самую. Только вот окружение почему-то не верило…Оказывается всё это время, обманывался лишь он сам.

-�� возьму крабик для волос? – от куда-то из спальни доносился голос Фелиции.

-Бери – прикрыв глаза, он снова глубоко затянулся и устало выдохнул. Мысли путались, перескакивая от настоящего, в прошлое и к смутным планам на будущее.

-Киндер, а ты в хорошей форме, неужели для свадебных фотографий старался? – собирая свои влажные волосы на затылке, Фелиция в просторной мужской футболке скрывающей изгибы точеной фигуры, оставляя на паркете мокрые следы, неспешно подошла к скрючившемуся над периллой хозяину квартиры. 

-Мне запрещено курить, пить, заниматься сексом так часто как я этого хочу, поэтому приходиться много времени проводить в спорт зале… – Стряхнув пепел на опорную балку, Коул повернул голову в сторону своей гостьи – Фел, ты любишь своего мужа?

Услышав подобный вопрос от любовника, Фелиция смутилась, не зная, как правильней ей будет ответить – Не знаю…скорее нет, чем да...Но откуда такие вопросы?

Растоптав недокуренную сигарету о ту же балку, Монро выпрямился во весь свой сто восьмидесятисантиметровый рост – Тогда, зачем вообще весь этот «брак» нужен? Тебе, да и всем вокруг…Чёрт…я в любом случае буду последней сволочью…

-Эй, ну о чём ты? И почему тебя стал так волновать мой, далеко не идеальный брак? М? –  Стэнфилд же будучи невероятно тактильной личностью, устроившись рядом, приобняла блондина едва доставая макушкой до уровня его плеча. – Я всё-таки мысли читать не умею…Давай спустимся, поговорим, выпьем кофе…м?

Ведомый, растерянный и пассивный, Коул молча следуя за Фелицией всё в том же полуголом виде спустился на первый этаж.

-Как я буду ей в глаза смотреть? – опускаясь на диван, тихо спросил он.

-Коул, прекрати казнить себя, не ты первый и не ты последний… - Нежно, стараясь не давить, Фел продолжала свою мысль - Мальчишник для этого и придуман был. Насладиться последним глотком свободы и без сожалений войти в новую, степенную, лишённую подобных радостей - семейную жизнь с партнером в котором ты уверен.

Последние слова об «уверенности в партнере» больно кольнули самолюб��е блондин. По всей видимости, Фелиция в своё время была не уверена в нем и предпочла другого, а теперь уже он и сам сомневался в себе, своих словах и действиях. Сможет ли он прилюдно поклясться в верности и любви своей беременной невесте, не вызывая сомнений и подозрений?

-Не могу…Черт, я не смогу этого сделать…Они все знали на что я способен…Кресс…Кресс и Леон они точно всё поймут…Я не смогу там появиться и убеждать всех в том, во что сам не верю! – Его мысли путались, а слова срывались с губ не связным потоком. Это было похоже на начинающуюся истерику.

Таким разбитым и потерянным, Фелиция не видела Коула никогда. Испугавшись за его стремительно ухудшающееся психическое состояние, Фел, аккуратно прижала его к своей груди, едва заметно раскачиваясь, будто убаюкивая ребенка – Милый…пожалуйста соберись, давай выпьем кофе, ты сходишь в душ, остынешь и увидишь, что мир совсем не изменился…

-Свадьбы не будет – хрипло, практически шёпотом отозвался блондин, не поднимая глаз.  

[cowplantrelish]

On her first day of work, Betony met a cute scientist called Eris. He was a little shy and awkward at first, but they found common ground theorizing about aliens. Betony loves nerdy boys, and he definitely left an impression.

[trentonsimblr]

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featuring sims by: @ardeney-sims @crownsofesha @whitmoreroyals @bridgeportbritt @housekonig @funkyllama

Post 1 of 2 for today!!

[heartblobs]

Late November, 1893

𝐷𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝐸𝑣𝑎,

My nephew grows older by the day, it sounds. I will come to visit him in the summer when my classes are over and spoil him rotten; you have been warned.

Classes seem to fly by me. I have learned so much yet so little in my time at Foxbury. With the addition of a few friends I have made, the year goes by even faster. In no time I will have graduated and be at the beginning of my career! Well, at least until Father retires, which I do not see happening in the near future.

Speaking of our father, he has seen better days. I am sure you heard of the market crash earlier this year. It appears that it hit Father pretty hard, as he lost millions in the banks. He is still more wealthy than most, and continues to pay my tuition for college, but I fear another hit like that and he could lose it all. Perhaps then it would be time for my time to come, to lead his company into a new century.

I hope you and Walter are well, and of course Salvatore. I send my warmest wishes to them all. Have a happy Winterfest.

𝑆𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑦,

𝐼𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑓𝑖𝑒𝑙𝑑

🕰️ / 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 / 𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑡

[plumbob-sim]

Why are they so ugly?

why so ugly????? they look more elderly than elders.

[singeratlarge]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to Casey Affleck, swamp pop singer Rod Bernard, Sid Bernstein, Joe Besser, Cantinflas, John Cazale, Kid Creole, Del The Funky Homosapien,  Cecil B. DeMille, Leslie Duncan, George Hamilton, Roy Hay, Heintje, Mark Knopfler, Greg Langston (The Next, No Alternative), Ron Mael, Tiny McCloud, Pat Metheny, Sir Mix-a-Lot, Alexei Nikolaevich, Peter Ostroushko, Buck Owens, Marjorie Reynolds, Theodore Scaife, Erwin Alexander Schrödinger, Lakeith Stanfield, Matt Thiessen (Reliant K), Stefanos Tsitsipas, Mladen Vukic, Porter Wagoner, Deborah Walley, Wednesday 13, Jane Wyatt, and recording artist, singer-songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist Derrek Van Eaton. 

Classic rock-philes and deep Beatles fans will recognize him from the brother band Lon & Derrek Van Eaton. Prior to their association with Apple Records (the record label created by The Beatles), they were part of the eccentric New York-based folk rock band Jacob’s Creek. They shared a studio with Simon & Garfunkel and released one album on Columbia in 1969. Two years later, John Lennon and George Harrison “discovered” them as a brother-act duo and signed them to Apple. The Van Eaton’s music blended urban folk and dreamy rock with a blues-gospel undercurrent, which perfectly coincided with the sounds of Badfinger and latter-day Beatles. The Van Eaton’s excellent BROTHER album was co-produced by George with Klaus Voorman. The Van Eatons toured the USA to promote BROTHER. Their 1972 tour brought them to where I was living in Huntingdon PA, where they played Ellis Hall at Juniata College (I stood listening from outside, a lad with no ticket money).  

The BROTHER album launched a long association with George, Ringo Starr, Harry Nilsson, and other travelers in the Apple/Beatle legacy that unfolded in the 1970s. Then the Van Eatons became studio session players favored by producer Richard Perry, who hired them for recordings with Art Garfunkel, Martha Reeves, and Carly Simon. Perry also produced the Van Eaton’s 1975 WHO DO YOU OUT DO album. Following that era, the brothers created a non-profit film and music company called Imagine a Better World. 

The Van Eaton brothers since have released sporadic works (duo and solo), notably their acclaimed 1996 cover of “Apple of my Eye” on the COME & GET IT Badfinger tribute album. In 2013 they issued a career-spanning anthology with new recordings with contributions from Ringo Starr, Jim Keltner, Klaus Voormann, and Gary Wright, and the Van Eatons are still active in musical and spiritual pursuits. 

Some years ago I met Derrek some years ago at church we were both attending in Pennsylvania (where I picked his brains about that 1972 concert I heard but couldn’t see), and the last time we crossed paths was at a Monkees concert in Denver in 2011. Even in passive meet-ups I can see the creative spark in Derrek’s eyes. Here’s one of my favorite Van Eaton cuts “Sun Song” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T5VSJmb2VI0...Meanwhile, HB DVE and thank you for your years of remarkable creativity and soul.

#derrekvaneaton #lonanderrekvaneaton #brother #applerecords #birthday #georgeharrison #ringostarr #klausvoorman #richardperry #peteham #badfinger

[tendrflesh]

*     ◟    :    〔   lakeith stanfield  ,      cismale    +   he/him    〕      donald fitz ,      some say you’re a  thirty-one  lost soul among the neon lights.      known for being both  resourceful  and  melodramatic,  one can’t help but think of  charcoal baby  by   blood orange  when you walk by.    are you still a    the sandman (chemist)  /   pharmacist   at    the terrors   /   manhattan general hospital,     even with your reputation as the sandman?     i think we’ll be seeing more of you and   mindlessly tapping your fingers against a wooden table,  low jazz music playing in the background, the librarian shushing you even when you weren't talking.  although we can’t help but think of morpheus (the sandman), bruce banner (marvel), toby ziegler (the west wing)   whenever we see you down these rainy streets.   

BASICS

NAME: donald christopher fitz NICKNAMES: fitz JOB: pharmacist at manhattan general hospital, chemist for the terrors BIRTHDAY: december 12 ZODIAC: sagittarius sun SEXUALITY: pansexual  GENDER: cismale, he/him RELIGION: none THREE POSITIVE TRAITS: resourceful, meticulous THREE NEGATIVE TRAITS: melodramatic ENNEAGRAM: 6w5 MYERS-BRIGGS: istj AESTHETIC:   mindlessly tapping your fingers against a wooden table,  low jazz music playing in the background, the librarian shushing you even when you weren't talking. CHARACTER INSPO:  morpheus (the sandman), bruce banner (marvel), toby ziegler (the west wing) LIKES: DISLIKES:

pinterest | playlist

FAST FACTS

grew up in philly and moved to nyc for school

very nerdy

doesn't like to be disturbed when working

highly intelligent and was looking for opportunity to work on experiments without...legality

worked for anunnaki pharmaceuticals after graduating with his phd and then stoneage

left stoneage for the hospital to 'do more good' but it was more of a front and to get away from the watchful eyes

does try to use his job to keep and eye on things and do what's needed for the terrors, but also serves as repentance for his crimes

joined the terrors because of the freedom they could offer for his mind and experiments

doesn't care too much about the state of his soul - more worried about the legacy of his work

[wickedsrest-rp]

Name: Jazmine "Jazz" Markham Species: Human (Non-powered) Occupation: Scribe Age: 29 Years Old Played By: Meek Face Claim: LaKeith Stanfield

"No, I don't take this seriously at all. What’s your point?."

TW: Racism

“Jazz” was born in a small Texas town in the early 90’s to a prizefighter for a father and an accountant for a Mother. His parents divorced as he was still breastfeeding and he lived with his mother. He never knew any different so not having his father around didn’t bother him much.   He is the great-grandson of comedian “Pigmeat” Markham. The legacy of Pigmeat was… “controversial” to say the least. It was a legacy that Jazz wished he could forget about. But how he felt about his great-grandfather wasn’t important to his parents and from an early age it was stressed to him that he ought to be a comedian. He didn’t care too much for being funny and inevitably being compared to his Great-Grandfather. He would rather follow in his father's prizefighting footsteps. His father also had quite the reputation of being a “Ladies man”. “Socializing” with so many women, just like his father, became his main focus; second only to boxing. His main goals in life became as toxic as his father and great-grandfather before him. Dating as many women as possible without regard to their emotions or humanity; and knocking out anyone who stood in his way. It was apparent from an early age that he wasn’t going down the path of a good person. While most kids were playing with trading cards he was doing his best to convince a girl to be his girlfriend. And if she said she had a boyfriend he’d find him and mash his face into the dirt.  As he grew older his toxicity grew with him. His ego grew as big as a mountain. After graduating high school with an undefeated amateur boxing record he decided to forgo the Olympic trials and become a professional fighter. He figured it would be the easiest way to continue meeting more women to date. The money he earned hardly concerned him beyond using it to woo another woman every week. After a string of 1st round KO wins he made the ill-advised decision to accept a fight against an opponent that was far too experienced and more than a couple weight classes above him. He left the ring battered, humiliated, and unconscious on a stretcher. He vowed to fight again however, before he could step into the ring again the news of a broken hand suffered in his last fight not healing properly stopped his career in its tracks.  After a bit of therapy he discovered his knack for being incredibly funny. He had made people laugh before but now it felt different. He began going to open mics and finding spots in vaudeville shows to practice. He was so heavily consumed by comedy that his goals of becoming a prolific ladies man faded into the background. He accepted what he saw as fate and began a career as a comedian and comedy writer. Before long he grew weary of the confines of his home and decided to head out on a road trip to find a new place to call home. He drove all over the country but eventually settled on the town of Wicked’s Rest. A town he had never heard of but the suspiciously low rent of a cottage near some quiet woods made him decide to give it a try. Besides, he figured the place could use a laugh or two and the road trip had very nearly depleted his funds.  The town was a bit eerie and whispers of fairies and monsters made him chuckle. He met a sexy, spooky local at a coffee shop for what he assumed would be a date. They talked to Jazz non-stop about magical creatures and in an attempt to relate Jazz pulled what knowledge he had about fae out of his butt. He was convincing enough that after a few days he was contacted by someone who called themselves a “Scribe”. They wanted Jazz to be a Scribe as well but he wasn’t interested. At least he wasn’t until they told him the salary and benefits. Writing about Halloween monsters as if they were real? Sounded like an easy enough gig he thought. But everyone talking about these creatures as if they were real was a bit off-putting. But hey, it would pay the rent right? He’d lied to get jobs before but being an expert on “pixies” may have been a step too far.

Character Facts:

Personality: Playful, dishonest, insensitive, flirtatious, dysphoric, loquacious, non-committal, lazy

An accomplished amateur boxer but a broken hand derailed his career shortly after turning professional.

Great-Grandson of late comedian "Pigmeat" Markham.

Would rather make someone laugh than have a fight.

Very tough and physically strong (still very much a non-powered human).

[luriddaze]

CLOSED for @rxnatx // based on dopleganger by joshua bassett

muse: damien jackson, bisexual, lakeith stanfield fc.

made using beta! let me know if i should remake with legacy <3 !

"I guess i'm not as over you as i thought i was."

[scotianostra]

September 9th 1758 saw the birth of Alexander Nasmyth, the Scottish painter and architect. Born in Edinburgh, Nasmyth studied at the Royal High School and the Trustees’ Academy under Alexander Runciman, and, having been apprenticed as an heraldic painter to a coachbuilder at the age of sixteen he attracted the attention of Allan Ramsay, who took the young man with him to London, and employed him upon the subordinate portions of his works. Nasmyth returned to Edinburgh in 1778, and was soon largely patronized as a portrait painter. He also assisted Patrick Miller of Dalswinton, as draughtsman, in his mechanical researches and experiments; and, this gentleman having generously offered the painter a loan to enable him to pursue his studies abroad, he left in 1782 for Italy, where he spent two years. Back in Scotland he spent more time on Landscapes, eventually abandoning portrait work in 1792, but not before he completed a portrait of his good friend Robert Burns, the poet, which in now on view in the Scottish National Gallery. His landscapes are all of actual places, and usually contain an architectural feature often seen across water, the distance bathed in mist, for example ‘Lugar Water’ and ‘Loch Tay with Kenmore Bridge’. A fine foreign view is the ‘Ponte Molle on the Sylvan Side of Rome’. In the 1820s he turned his attention to Edinburgh street scenes, which are some of my favourite works, recording fashions, daily activity and architecture, such as ‘Princes Street, with the Royal Institution Building under Construction’, ‘Edinburgh with the High Street and Lawnmarket’ and its companion ‘Shipping at Leith’. His painting of Calton Gaol and the famous view beyond is stunning. Some works were painted to illustrate the effects that new buildings would have on an area, such as ‘Inverary from the Sea’, painted for the Duke of Argyll to show the setting a proposed lighthouse. In his landscapes he blended classical elements with naturalistic observation and became the founder of the Scottish landscape tradition, influencing many younger painters. He established a landscape school at his home at 47 York Place in Edinburgh. As a teacher he was highly innovative in insisting his pupils draw from real scenes in the open air, rather than simply reproduce existing drawings or paintings. His pupils included David Wilkie, David Roberts and Clarkson Stanfield. He also developed a sideline in architecture, being responsible for the Dean Bridge in Edinburgh and the temple-like structure atop St Bernard’s Well in Stockbridge. When Alexander Nasmyth died, at home, in Edinburgh in 1840, he left a significant legacy in the form of his portraits and landscapes, and in the careers of those he had taught.

Pics are of the artist and some of his work, a view of Edinburgh from the West, Tantallon Castle, A scenne fro Heart of Midlothian, and ofcourse, hisportrait of the poet Robert Burns.

[igrofox]

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Припарковавшись, Брэдли с глубокой печалью смотрел на их семейный дом.

-Если хочешь можем еще посидеть и настроиться на разговор...- Лидия понимала что им нужно сразу подобрать нужные слова, чтобы рассказать все детям.

-Лиди, выходи за меня. -слова сами сорвались с губ Демона. -хочу: чтобы ты всегда была рядом, просыпаться вместе, гулять с детьми... Дэн вместе с нами, он готов быть вторым мужем, -взяв хрупкие ладони девушки, Брэдли серьезно посмотрел в ее лиловые глаза -но если ты против, он не против быть просто другом семьи...

-Брэдли, это все как-то...

-я не прошу дать ответ прямо сейчас, буду ждать пока не будешь готова -вздохнув дабы перевести дух, Брэдли снова посмотрел на девушку -я боюсь прийти домой и уложив детей, почувствовав себя одиноким...

-Милый, страх одиночество это не причина для брака...Пойми, я очень тебя люблю, но представь, пройдет лет десять и ты устанешь, захочешь наконец побыть один или встретишь того кого полюбишь...И что? Будем разводиться? Наносить ещё одну травму детям? Думаю если уж и заключать брак, то только с уверенностью, что это до конца жизни...А не из-за необходимости и страхов...

-это не толка из-за страха... -брэдли смущенно почесал затылок, стараясь собрать все мысли в воедино. -Я уже как-то говорил о бодобном, что мне хотелось бы всегда оставаться рядом с тобой и Дэном... Тогда я выпалил это из-за обиды и боли, но не смог выкинуть эту мысль из головы и постоянно обдумывал почему так сказал. В конце концов я просто осознал что люблю вас обоих и честно признаюсь меня до сих пор очень тянет к тебе, так же как 11 лет назад в первую нашу встречу. -от признания ушки Брэдли покраснели- даже если мы будем идти на перекор нормаль��ости и люди будут смотреть на нас страным взглядом -плевать, я точно хочу быть рядом с вами до конца и делать вас счастливыми. Я обещаю что ни ты, ни дети, ни тем более Дэн не разачаруетесь в нашей будущей семье.

-Это уже больше похоже на предложение. - умиляясь румянцу на щеках тридцатилетнего мужчины, девушка робко приблизившись, поцеловала его - На такое будущее я согласна.

[igrofox]

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Фелиция (1\3) - Сан-Мишуно – за 20 часов до свадьбы

- Может все-таки оставишь Монс со мной? Девичник в компании детей, звучит не очень… - Провожая невесту с дочерью на руках до ожидающего такси, Коул в очередной раз пытался убедить девушку провести свой последний «холостяцкий» вечер веселясь и развлекаясь, оставив все заботы о малышке на него. 

Однако, ощущая очередной приступ подступающей тошноты, Фрэлей лишь отмахнувшись в ответ.

- Какая же ты всё-таки упертая, веселиться совсем не умеешь - намеренно громко возмущался мужчина, поглаживая спину дочери. - Надеюсь, ребенок таким не будет…  

-Конечно нет – усмехнувшись, девушка, поёжилась из-за налетевшего порыва холодного ветра и натянула рукава кардигана до самых кончиков пальцев – ты сам научишь его всему…

К этому моменту они преодолели уже большую часть делового района – Из меня тот еще у… - запнувшись на полуслове, блондин остановился и как заворожённый смотрел на миниатюрную, рыжеволосую девушку, будто поджидавшую их. 

- Так-так-так, неуловимый Коул Монро все же жениться – хитро улыбаясь, незнакомка заговорила мелодичным, с едва уловимой хрипотцой голосом, подходя всё ближе. – Ни за что бы не поверила, не увидев собственными глазами…

Растерявшись из-за неожиданного появления столь яркой и провокационной особы, будущая миссис Монро невольно отступила назад.

Заметив это движение, Коул быстро опомнился и сказал – Фел, знакомься моя дочь – Монс и пока еще мисс Фрэлей и по совместительству моя невеста – Элли. Элс… - неловкое сокращение и без того коротко женского имени, машинально слетело с его губ из-за чего блондин, залившись румянцем, нервно улыбнулся – позволь представить, моя давняя подруга Фелиция…

-Приятно познакомиться – Ощущая пристальный, изучающий взгляд ярко-голубых глаз, Фрэлей пригладила собранные в высокий пучок волосы.

-Это взаимно, Элс – подражая манере с которой сам Коул произнес имя избранницы, Фел как будто пробовала его на вкус. – Поздравляю со скорым замужеством.

Напряжение что буквально-таки витало до этого в воздухе, моментально улетучилось и будущая миссис Монро, лучезарно улыбнулась в ответ – Спасибо, надеюсь завтра увидеть вас на торжестве. Коул много сил вложил в организацию.

-Увы, завтра присутствовать я не смогу – неуверенно поджав свои пухлые губы, рыжеволосая девушка, поспешно добавила – поэтому, пришла поздравить заранее…

Вспомнив о все это время ожидающем её такси, в совокупности с общей атмосферой встречи старых друзей, Элли быстро сориентировалась и потянулась к Монике, что внимательно рассматривала незнакомку.

-Иди ко мне малышка – забирая девочку себе, девушка игриво ущипнула её за пухленькую детскую щечку – Красивая тетя?

-Очень красивая… – тихо, так чтобы никто кроме мачехи её не услышал, прошептала маленькая копия Коула Монро.

По-доброму рассмеявшись в ответ, Фрэлей улыбаясь сказала - Мы уже опаздываем на наш «девичник», так что оставим вас. Вы же, явно давно не виделись, наверняка есть что обсудить… Поэтому, Монику я все же заберу с собой.

Стушевавшись из-за слов избранницы своего друга, Фелиция ощущала неловкость, казалось, что все её слова и действия могли быть истолкованы неверно. - Эм…а…я…я не хотела нарушать ваши планы.

Пока Коул растерянно молчал, будущая миссис Монро поспешила успокоить взволнованную девушку, заверив что такими и был их изначальные планы. Ну а столь удачное появление девушку в нужный момент, было как никогда кстати.  

После чего окончательно распрощавшись с женихом и его подругой, Фрэлей оставив после себя исключительно положительные впечатления, с ребенком на руках всё же удалилась.

@igrofox

[vecnasrevengerp]

welcome home AKEEM BELL (lakeith stanfield fc)

hope you brought your tissues with you! be sure to check in at home or to your hotel and don’t forget to always look over your shoulder. this is hawkins, after all.

[LAKEITH STANFIELD, CISMALE, HE/HIM] When’s the last time anyone heard anything about [AKEEM BELL]? Old friends remember them as [RIDE-OR-DIE  and REAL ASF] but also [DENSE and ERRATIC], no wonder they’re still known as [THE SMOOTH CRIMINAL] around town. Today, in 2006, they are [36] and some people say they remind them of [joyrides down highway one, brotherhood over blood, never really knowing what’s going on, staying strapped and building stacks, getting high for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, refusing to take anything seriously]. [nikki, 25, she/her, ctz].

Life has a beginning, a middle, and an end. After that, it’s rebirth and repeat. Everything is cyclical, at least as much as Akeem can tell. Akeem’s life began the same way he figures it’ll end: a knock at Martin Bell’s door, him in a wooden box. He wasn’t so lucky at birth– his biological parents were addicts– but as far as he’s concerned, they made up for his shitty genetics and abandoning him by giving him to Martin. They hadn’t even bothered to name him first, so Martin did the honors: Akeem Ture Bell. 

Martin Bell, Jack Taylor, and Reggie Greene were giants in the Compton community. They came up there, they loved Compton, and they dedicated their lives to giving back. Martin through teaching, Jack through community work, and Reggie through his legacy. Compton in the 70s was overpoliced and underresourced, but it was home. In a lot of ways, Akeem feels like Compton itself birthed him, raised him, would one day kill him. It was clear at an early age that he wasn’t any good at school. Despite Martin’s best efforts, Akeem was too energetic, too easily distracted, and too mouthy to glean much from school. 

The first time Akeem remembers fighting in school was kindergarten orientation. The kid looked at him crazy for kicking his seat, what was he supposed to do but kick him in the shins? Martin was even on his side, defending him to the principal and the other parent! But his victory was short-lived. Once they crossed the threshold, Martin gave him what would become the first of many ‘you can’t act a fool in public because you’re not like the other kids’ talks. He did his best to make Martin happy, to make him proud, but it was like he didn’t have a choice sometimes– his body sprung into action before he could breathe, count to three, ask himself what MLK would do. 

He got kicked to the alternative school a handful of times in middle school– for fighting, for smoking pot in the bathroom, for selling outside the cafeteria. It was a social thing at first; In his predominately white school, Akeem hung around a group of older boys from his neighborhood. They smoked, so he smoked. Hell, he knew Martin and Jack smoked, too, so what was the big deal? And was it really that bad if he sold a dime bag or two for his friends? Akeem thought everybody was overreacting, and it was true that he had a target on his back already. Something about his father figure being a Panther didn’t sit right with the white teachers and administration. Go figure.

Martin’s plan to keep Akeem out of trouble was to get him a job. He wasn’t any good at food handling (too relaxed about the health code) and he was even worse at waiting tables (too mouthy), so he got his first official job working for Mr. Carlton at the corner store. Carlton was a neighborhood staple, the stereotypical Oldhead who’s been around forever and knows everybody’s mama. Well, except Akeem’s. Martin figured he’d be a good influence, somebody else to lecture at him. The first time somebody rolled through looking for a hit, Akeem was just trying to be helpful by connecting him with his boys. The second time, then the third, solidified his status as a go-between. Hell, it was more exciting than selling hot chips to eleven-year-olds.

Shit turned around for Akeem when Max Mayfield moved back to Compton. They knew each other as kids– weekends Max was with her Uncle Jack always meant Martin and Akeem weren’t too far away, and Akeem always liked her. She was different, kind of… intimidating in a way that excited him. When she came back with Jack in ‘86, though, Max was in a wheelchair and didn’t want anything to do with anybody. Including Akeem. But he was persistent, kept coming around, until finally she agreed to smoke with him. No exaggeration, that joint changed Akeem’s life. More than being attractive and funny, Max was wicked smart. She understood Akeem– usually more than he understood himself– and gave him the language to make sense of some shit he never could before.

Akeem’s attendance was at an all-time high when Max started coming to school, and his grades improved, too… because he cheated off of her, but still! It’s the thought that counts! It didn’t take long for Max to decide to shake shit up, and Akeem was happy to be her foot in the door. Akeem’s boys agreed to let Max sell for them on a trial basis on Akeem’s recommendation, but by the end of the first week? Max Mayfield was all but a household name. Max’s trick was infiltrating the white community, upcharging the stupid suburban kids and splitting the difference. Once they started, they couldn’t stop– Akeem and Max graduated from weed to shrooms to coke, the occasional armed robbery when the mood struck. 

They got picked up a few times; they weren’t dumb enough to get got for anything serious, but a few nights in jail, a few more stints at the alternative school. But it didn’t matter that it was low-stakes shit to Martin and Jack. Shit, it didn’t even matter that they had some of the same stuff on their records– they were united in their no-tolerance front. Akeem was terrified of Jack, and was the unwilling recipient of several ‘stay-away-from-my-niece’ talks, but more than he was afraid, he was sure that Max was someone he needed in his life. Besides, it’s not like anybody could make that decision for her, and if she wanted to keep hanging around with Akeem, then she would. That was that. When Akeem was seventeen, he got picked up for aggravated assault (he didn’t start it, for the record), and Martin had enough. Akeem didn’t seem like he wanted to change, so Martin kicked him out.

It’s not like Jack’s place was an option, and Carlton was still pissed that Akeem had brought drugs through his shop, so Akeem shacked up with his boys. In the span of two months, he’d officially dropped out of school and started selling full-time. It was more money in that business than Martin’s teaching or Jack’s construction work, anyway, so Akeem pretty much figured that the ‘graduate from school, go to college or trade school’ line was bullshit. He decided this was his life now, he’d be a gangbanger like his friends until he was old enough to ship off to the army, or something. Akeem’s bubble was quickly burst when he learned that his rap sheet made him an unattractive candidate for good ole Uncle Sam. That, and Max gave him a long-winded lecture on why the army is predatory and it’s just an extension of the police and he’d be going into other countries killing people like them.

So, drugs and guns it was. After a while, Martin got over it. He never liked it, but he accepted it, tried to create new ground rules for Akeem to live an ethical, safe life of crime. Akeem didn’t follow them, but if it made Martin feel better to lecture about it, then so be it. What really brought them back together, though, were the LA riots– Rodney King. Not even a month before, Akeem and Max’s good friend, essentially their older brother, was killed in a police raid. The community was angry and grieving, and Rodney King was the final straw. Weirdly, the riots are one of Akeem’s favorite memories to this day– because it was him and Max and Martin and Jack, completely opposite sides of the community, joining arms to fight together. It was good to remember what really matters, instead of petty fights about whether it’s better to be an activist or a drug dealer, whether Akeem should finish school or not. None of that shit mattered.

Akeem’s second favorite memory was Max’s graduation from Stanford. They stayed in touch while she was in college, and Akeem probably visited once every couple months to move some product on campus, but he never stopped talking about how his girl was at Stanford, and she was gonna be a lawyer. It didn’t matter that school had never been his thing, it mattered that she was a certifiable genius. Akeem will never forget sitting in that stuffy auditorium in between Martin and Jack with his airhorn; the ugly looks he got from all the white families around them. It didn’t even bother him that some white lady had called the security officer on them– he only cared that Max graduated from goddamn Stanford. 

He still likes to say that she went into law to help him out, and while that may not be the actual reason, help him she did. Even though he and his friends had money and connections, Akeem certainly needed Max to get him out of some significant scrapes– or to at least slash his jail time as much as possible. She always did right by him, and he’s sure that one day, 5-0 will stop trying to lock him up ‘cuz his lawyer will just get him out in a year. They haven’t stopped yet, but, any day now!

Akeem doesn’t take shit too serious, but honestly, he didn’t expect to live past twenty-five. Then thirty. Then thirty-five. He’s not particularly religious, but the fact that he’s still kickin’ it after the shit he’s gotten into feels divine, like there’s something he hasn’t done yet that he’s supposed to, so he’s on the lookout. (Maybe it’s his up-and-coming rap career-- look him up, recording name AK-47!!) 

He would’ve been happy to stay in Compton forever, with his brothers and sisters, at least until Max went AWOL. Her partner at the law firm, Cole Montgomery, took over her cases, and Akeem is staring down a court date for selling to minors soon (he didn’t know they were minors!). He doesn’t trust this guy, so he’s taken it upon himself to rescue Max from the clutches of the Midwest and return her to West Coast best coast.  

https://www.pinterest.com/godstruckkkk/ak47/

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7qCMxRzqH9MUP5MAIb7bTK?si=6ff67ef7f6a542b6&pt=f241c6f1444366933d3b1aa0a8fa2b7d 

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Featuring sims from: @ardeney-sims @funkyllama @bridgeportbritt @crownsofesha @housekonig

AN: This day is going to be 7-9 posts, the brunch alone will be 3 of them. 😵‍💫 There will be 4 posts this week (M-Th) and 3 next week (Tu-Th). If I’m needed I’ll post one Friday next week. Also, after the NYE party posts, there will probably be a short break. That’s where I was initially planning to pause before my computer decided to die. It all depends on how productive my brain decides it’s going to be.

[heartblobs]

April, 1892

Evaline wrote back to her brother almost immediately, despite what her husband had thought. Walter voiced that her family shouldn’t even be considered given what happened surrounding their marriage. However, Evaline couldn’t deny her brother, who didn’t have much of a choice under her father’s authoritarian rule. Besides, he was not the one to forgo speaking to her.

Irving arrived early in the day so Walter would not know of his visit. Upon seeing her brother for the first time in years, Evaline threw her arms around him and sobbed into his shoulder. She loved her dear brother so deeply, and she was happy that he was finally meeting Salvatore.

The babe was hesitant at first upon meeting a new person, as overly cautious as he was, but Salvatore soon warmed up to his uncle. Before long he was smiling and cooing at Irving, whose heart simply melted at the sight. Evaline could tell that Irving would be a terrific uncle. 

After the excitement settled down, the two siblings began to speak of the current news. Their Father was traveling to expand his railroad business further up north, and hoped his son would join him after college. Irving wasn’t interested in taking over the family business but found no other reason not to, especially after what happened to Evaline.

Irving’s visit was short but sweet. He made promises to try and visit more in the future, to be more involved in his sister’s life now that he was a young man. Though Evaline didn’t want to hold him to any promises, she secretly wished he would keep it.

🕰️ / 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 / 𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑡