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justforbooks · 3 years ago

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Summer reading: from missing lighthouse keepers to the healing power of trees...

50 new fiction and nonfiction books to enjoy. Plus recent paperbacks to pack and the best children’s stories!

No One Is Talking About This by Patricia Lockwood

What is the internet doing to our minds and hearts? The American comic memoirist’s first novel, shortlisted for the Women’s prize, begins as a savagely witty deep dive into the black hole of social media, then confronts real-life tragedy and transcendence.

Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro

Klara, the “artificial friend” to sickly teenager Josie, is our naive guide through Ishiguro’s uneasy near-future, in which AI and genetic enhancement threaten to create a human underclass. Klara’s quest to understand the people and systems around her, and to protect Josie at all costs, illuminates what it means to love, to care – to be human.

Luster by Raven Leilani

This Dylan Thomas prize winner introduces a brilliant new voice. Edie is a young black woman in New York who starts a relationship with an older white man, and gets complicatedly close to his wife and adopted black daughter. The sentences crackle in a virtuosic skewering of race, precarious modern living and the generation gap.

That Old Country Music by Kevin Barry

The third short-story collection from a stylist to savour brings more exhilarating, darkly witty tales of oddballs yearning after love and enchantment in the wild west of Ireland.

The Lamplighters by Emma Stonex

Based on a real-life mystery, this stylishly written debut interweaves a range of voices to explore the disappearance of three Cornish lighthouse keepers in 1972. Both a slow-growing, atmospheric portrait of claustrophobic relationships and a relentless page-turner, this is a hugely satisfying read and a passionate love letter to the sea.

The Great Mistake by Jonathan Lee

A deeply enjoyable panoramic novel about gilded age New York, which explores the transformation of the city through the life and sudden death of the man who built Central Park.

Sorrow and Bliss by Meg Mason

This account of a life derailed by mental illness is both darkly funny and deeply touching. Martha looks back on her failed marriage to Patrick, a family friend, but the real love story in this novel, billed as “Fleabag meets Patrick Melrose”, is with her wry sister, Ingrid.

How to Kidnap the Rich by Rahul Raina

Written with enormous verve and energy, this crime caper satirising aspiration, inequality and corruption in India centres on an “examinations consultant” who fraudulently acquires qualifications for the children of the wealthy. Fast, furious and lots of fun.

Second Place by Rachel Cusk

A stranger comes to stay in this fascinating, uncomfortable exploration of creativity, the male gaze and the gendered experience of freedom. Cusk’s story of a female writer’s power struggle with a male artist is one of the first novels to take inspiration from lockdown.

Open Water by Caleb Azumah Nelson

A young author’s tender debut about a contemporary London love affair explores race, sex and masculinity, as well as being a joyous hymn to black art and culture.

A Net for Small Fishes by Lucy Jago

Described as “the Thelma and Louise of the 17th century” and based on a real-life scandal at the court of James VI and I, this irresistibly immersive novel follows a friendship between two women that leads to Tyburn and the Tower.

Civilisations by Laurent Binet, translated by Sam Taylor

In this hugely entertaining counterfactual history of the making of the modern world, it’s the Incas who invade Europe. Binet has riotous, brainy fun in a rollicking story of the urge to power, which delights in turning received ideas upside down.

Girl A by Abigail Dean

The premise of this thriller debut – that “Girl A” is the sibling who escaped incarceration by abusive parents in a “house of horrors” – may sound overly grim, but this is a carefully judged and propulsive story of survival and redemption, as Lex comes to terms with her past.

The Other Black Girl by Zakiya Dalila Harris

“Get Out meets The Devil Wears Prada”: in this buzzy, up-to-the-minute debut, twentysomething Nella is pleased to no longer be the only black employee in her New York publishing company when new recruit Hazel joins her desk. But then things get sinister … A twisty, darkly comic satire of office culture, identity politics and white expectations.

Light Perpetual by Francis Spufford

Spufford follows his 18th-century romp Golden Hill with a brilliantly achieved interweaving of working-class lives in postwar south London. The book’s metaphysical conceit – that the children whose stories he spins, from the blitz into the 21st century, died when a German bomb dropped on Woolworths – infuses this tale of the miracle of everyday existence with an elegiac profundity.

The Absolute Book by Elizabeth Knox

A magical book; doors between worlds; talking birds, vicious fairies and a trip to Purgatory ... Stuffed with literary allusion and mythic echoes from the Norse legends to Alan Garner, straddling dimensions and hopping genres with ease, this is a capacious, one-of-a-kind fantasy novel that’s worth getting lost in.

My Phantoms by Gwendoline Riley

A short, sharp shock of a novel that anatomises a toxic relationship between mother and daughter. Riley’s icy style and uncanny ear for dialogue create unflinching prose that is funny and devastating by turns.

Daughters of Night by Laura Shepherd-Robinson

This intricately written and absorbing historical crime thriller spans all levels of Georgian London, as a woman with her own secrets investigates a murder in Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens.

Transcendent Kingdom by Yaa Gyasi

Shortlisted for the Women’s prize, this follow-up to Homegoing confirms Gyasi’s blazing talent. Focusing on a family who emigrate from Ghana to the deep south in the US, it’s an investigation of science and faith, addiction and ambition, and the way trauma is passed down the generations.

In. by Will McPhail

The debut graphic novel from the New Yorker cartoonist is a beautiful, bittersweet portrait of modern life, with black and white panels bursting into sublime colour when isolated hipster Nick makes a genuine connection with others. McPhail is very funny on urban coffee-shop existence – “croissants aren’t making me happy any more” – but his tragicomedy will also make the heart swell.

Luckenbooth by Jenni Fagan

An Edinburgh tenement building is haunted by tall stories and unnerving strangers, from William Burroughs to the devil’s daughter, in this weird and wonderful gothic confection.

The Manningtree Witches by AK Blakemore

Based on documents from the time, a striking debut about the women victimised in the 17th-century Essex witch trials that is both an amazingly fresh historical novel and a timeless meditation on the male abuse of power.

A River Called Time by Courttia Newland

A speculative epic of parallel Londons, set in a world where colonialism and slavery never happened, enables a superhero story that’s thought-provoking as well as action-packed.

The Rules of Revelation by Lisa McInerney

The rollercoaster conclusion to the Women’s prize-winning “unholy trinity” of big-hearted, sharp-mouthed novels set amid Cork’s seamy underbelly. A sideways look at modern Ireland, and a comic treat.

The Passenger by Ulrich Alexander Boschwitz, translated by Philip Boehm

This year’s essential literary rediscovery was written as darkness descended in Nazi Germany. With the nightmarish absurdism of Kafka and the pace of a thriller, it follows a German-Jewish businessman’s attempts to flee the country: tense, terrifying and still horribly relevant today.

This One Sky Day by Leone Ross

Gloriously inventive magic realism set over a single day on a fictional Caribbean archipelago, where every inhabitant has a touch of supernatural power. Whimsy, romance, erotica and adventure collide in a literary feast for the senses.

Great Circle by Maggie Shipstead

A soaring epic of female adventure and wanderlust that ranges across decades and continents, from the early 20th century to the 21st, as a Hollywood star investigates the mysterious disappearance of an early aviator.

Slough House by Mick Herron

Spymaster Jackson Lamb may be getting a little cartoonish in this latest outing for the screwups and rejects of MI5, but Herron’s bone-dry farce of corruption and intrigue remains as delicious as ever.

Animal by Lisa Taddeo

Taddeo follows a nonfiction investigation of female desire, Three Women, with an excoriating debut novel that puts female rage in the spotlight. Her transgressive antiheroine, making a US road trip of revenge and self-discovery, is a wisecracking voice to relish (out on 24 June).

The Startup Wife by Tahmima Anam

In this sparky satire of startup culture and the modern search for meaning, a computer scientist who launches a social media app with her husband has to find her own voice, both in the boardroom and her marriage. Smart and funny on culture clashes, male-female dynamics and the cult of wellness.

A Swim in a Pond in the Rain by George Saunders

Why is fiction important and what makes a great story? The Booker winner teaches Russian literature at Syracuse University in the US and this enjoyable collection of essays channels that expertise, diving into classic short stories by Chekhov, Tolstoy and Gogol. A masterclass from a warm and engagingly enthusiastic companion.

Real Estate by Deborah Levy

The concluding book in Levy’s “living autobiography” trilogy sees her travelling between London, New York, Mumbai and Paris reflecting on creativity, security and what makes a home as she approaches her 60th birthday. Witty, honest and hypnotically allusive, this brilliantly crafted memoir interrogates women’s quest for artistic and emotional freedom.

Rememberings by Sinéad O’Connor

From childhood thieving to publicly ripping up a picture of the Pope, O’Connor is known for sticking two fingers up at authority. This unapologetic account of her rollercoaster life and career is full of heart, humour and cameos from figures such as Prince, or as she calls him “ol fluffy cuffs”.

Empireland: How Imperialism Has Shaped Modern Britain by Sathnam Sanghera

A concise, well researched and accessible primer to a history too often whitewashed or overlooked, Empireland shows how the legacy of our colonial past saturates so much of the “Britishness” that we take for granted today.

Breathtaking: Inside the NHS in a Time of Pandemic by Rachel Clarke

Written from the frontline of history – at nights, on a palliative care ward – this is a book filled with rage and compassion that should become required reading for anyone considering a career in medicine or politics.

Fall: The Mystery of Robert Maxwell by John Preston

In an entertaining account of the life and death of Robert Maxwell, the author of A Very English Scandal charts the press baron’s vast appetites, ambition and feud with Rupert Murdoch. It ends with the man Private Eye nicknamed “the bouncing Czech” emptying the Mirror pension fund before disappearing from his yacht, the Lady Ghislaine – named after the now equally infamous youngest of his nine children.

The Secret to Superhuman Strength by Alison Bechdel

If you’ve never read a deeply personal, stomach-shakingly funny, existential graphic memoir about exercise, mortality and self-improvement, start with this one by the talented artist behind Fun Home.

In the Thick of It: The Private Diaries of a Minister by Alan Duncan

Some politicians’ diaries disappoint by pulling their punches and offering little in the way of political gossip. This isn’t one of them. Duncan describes Gavin Williamson as a “venomous self-seeking little shit”, Priti Patel a “brassy monster”, and Michael Gove an “unctuous freak”. And that’s to say nothing of Boris Johnson and Brexit …

The Hard Crowd: Essays 2000-2020 by Rachel Kushner

In a collection spanning 20 years, Kushner is as sharp writing about partying as politics, cultural history or motorbike racing. To a great writer, everything is copy, and Kushner has a more interesting life to draw on than most.

The Heartbeat of Trees: Embracing Our Ancient Bond with Forests and Nature by Peter Wohlleben

A simultaneously stimulating and soothing blend of nature writing and science, this detailed examination of the consciousness of trees may disappoint readers who want to commune with the forest, but strongly encourages tree hugging for our own, human sake.

I Belong Here: A Journey Along the Backbone of Britain by Anita Sethi

After she was subjected to a racist attack on a train, Mancunian writer Sethi was left anxious, claustrophobic and longing for open spaces. This account of her pilgrimage across the Pennines explores ideas of estrangement, home and belonging.

Many Different Kinds of Love by Michael Rosen

In the darkest days of the pandemic last year came news that the former children’s laureate was seriously ill with Covid. This affecting anthology is his attempt to piece together the 47 days he spent in intensive care. Darkly funny poems sit alongside messages from his wife, Emma, and extracts from his “patient’s diary” recorded by the nurses and care workers who saved his life.

Ancestors: A Prehistory of Britain in Seven Burials by Alice Roberts

A winning combination of groundbreaking genetic science and real, human empathy, this exploration of seven burial sites explains who we are and how we came to be here.

One of Them: An Eton College Memoir by Musa Okwonga

An elegantly crafted memoir that weaves together the two strands of Okwonga’s early life takes in the rise of the far right in his mostly white, working-class hometown and his time at Eton. The result is a unique insight into race and class in Britain today.

The Sleeping Beauties: And Other Stories of the Social Life of Illness by Suzanne O’Sullivan

Some people call it mass hysteria; some grisi siknis (crazy sickness) or “mass psychogenic illness”. What neurologist O’Sullivan makes clear, in this fascinating and compassionate account, is that these illnesses are real, that they sometimes allow voiceless people to make themselves heard and that, with the right support, those people can be helped.

From Spare Oom to War Drobe: Travels in Narnia with My Nine-Year-Old Self by Katherine Langrish

A wonderful companion to CS Lewis’s Narnia novels, which captures the magic of books as a doorway into other worlds while also thoughtfully exploring Lewis’s religious didacticism.

How to Make the World Add Up: Ten Rules for Thinking Differently About Numbers by Tim Harford

As presenter of Radio 4’s More or Less, Harford is a calm voice in the often confusing and clamorous world of statistics. With its 10 simple rules for understanding numbers, this book demystifies maths and gives its power back to the people, taking away the advantage from those who would use statistics to bamboozle us.

Stronger: Changing Everything I Knew About Women’s Strength by Poorna Bell

Bell took up powerlifting after the death of her husband and can now lift more than twice her own body weight. In this defiant and reflective memoir she examines ideas around women and strength, resulting in a challenging, positive and powerful call to arms. Muscled arms.

Helgoland by Carlo Rovelli, translated by Erica Segre and Simon Carnell

Travelogue meets biography meets a masterful explanation of quantum theory in this warm and fascinating account of what happened when young Werner Heisenberg went to Helgoland in 1925.

All the Young Men: A Memoir of Love, Aids and Chosen Family in the American South by Ruth Coker Burks

A perfect real-life counterpoint to Russell T Davies’s It’s a Sin, All the Young Men recalls how Burks held hands, cooked meals and fought for care for hundreds of men stigmatised and abandoned as they died of Aids. It’s a tender and bracing reminder of all-too-recent history.

Pandora’s Jar: Women in the Greek Myths by Natalie Haynes

Pandora didn’t have a box – and that’s just one of the things you’ll learn from this funny, geeky guide to Greek myth by the standup classicist.

Explaining Humans: What Science Can Teach Us about Life, Love and Relationships by Camilla Pang

A writer with autism spectrum disorder uses scientific concepts to help her understand human behaviour – and other humans have a lot to learn from her about both.

Agent Sonya by Ben Macintyre

The stranger-than-fiction story of Ursula Kuczynski, a 20th-century secret agent whose remarkable work changed the course of history.

Thinking Again by Jan Morris

A collection of diary entries, this last book by the celebrated travel writer shows a remarkable mind, a generous spirit and an imagination undimmed.

Bessie Smith by Jackie Kay

Originally published in 1997, this richly inventive biography details the Scottish poet’s lifelong love affair with a “libidinous, raunchy, fearless blueswoman”.

The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett

This family saga about black twins in the US, one of whom takes on a white identity, has been a critical and commercial smash.

Summer by Ali Smith

The triumphant conclusion to Smith’s seasonal quartet explores the biggest themes – war, love, family, climate, art – with wit and heart.

Shuggie Bain by Douglas Stuart

Soaked in love, agony and booze, the Booker-winning tale of a young boy and his alcoholic mother in 1980s Glasgow.

The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman

The Pointless host’s all-conquering crime debut is a cosy caper in an upmarket retirement village.

The Dangers of Smoking in Bed by Mariana Enríquez, translated by Megan McDowell

Shortlisted for the International Booker, unsettling ghost stories from the Argentinian author.

Small Pleasures by Clare Chambers

A virgin birth in postwar south London? This wry, witty tale of a stifled journalist finding new horizons as she investigates an unlikely claim is a bittersweet treat.

The Gospel of the Eels: A Father, a Son and the World’s Most Enigmatic Fish by Patrik Svensson

A gorgeously evocative blend of science, nature writing and family memoir that explores a father-son relationship – and eels.

Wild Child: A Journey Through Nature by Dara McAnulty, illustrated by Barry Falls

From the prize-winning young naturalist, this is a dreamy dive into the natural world to thrill wildlife fans of six-plus.

Good News: Why the World Is Not as Bad as You Think by Rashmi Sirdeshpande, illustrated by Adam Hayes

Learn to spot fake news and celebrate the best of humanity in this mood-lifting global overview for readers of seven and up.

Noah’s Gold by Frank Cottrell-Boyce, illustrated by Steven Lenton

What happens when a school trip leaves six kids stranded on an island – and the entire internet is turned off? A gently funny story for eight-plus, with a warm, classic feel.

The House of Serendipity by Lucy Ivison, illustrated by Catharine Collingridge

Scandalous secrets meet riotous hilarity in this glorious 1920s-set romp starring a young dressmaking duo, perfect for readers of nine to 12.

Starboard by Nicola Skinner, illustrated by Flavia Sorrentino

An escaped steamship, estranged best friends, a talking map and a fabulous voyage add up to a thrillingly original story for 10-plus.

Something I Said by Ben Bailey Smith

Smart young comedian Carmichael Taylor is on a journey of self-discovery – from trouble at school to American TV star (maybe). Witty and touching, this book is ideal for 10-plus readers who love wordplay and wild, looping tangents.

You’re the One That I Want by Simon James Green

Shy, ordinary Freddie is terrified of auditioning for Grease, but gorgeous newcomer Zach seems determined to seduce him in the props cupboard. A hilariously rude, sweetly addictive YA romance.

Ace of Spades by Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé

Only two black students attend an exclusive US high school – and now an anonymous texter is trying to destroy their reputations in this tense, compelling YA thriller that will appeal to fans of Karen McManus.

House of Hollow by Krystal Sutherland

Three sisters vanished as children and came back strangely changed. Now Grey, the eldest, has vanished again. Can she be saved once more? A gorgeous, grisly modern fairytale for 14-plus.

Bad Habits by Flynn Meaney

When rebel girl Alex sets out to stage The Vagina Monologues at her Catholic boarding school, she’s hoping to be expelled – but things don’t go according to plan. A frank, feminist and outrageously funny YA novel.

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tardis-stowaway · 4 years ago

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hi! I really like your taste in media, and I'm looking for new summer reading - if it's not too much trouble to share, do you have any like, top 5 book recommendations? or maybe some books you've read recently that you enjoy? any genre is fine, including nonfiction. thank you!

Hi anon! This was a really nice message to get, so thank you!!! :D Lately, I haven’t been reading as much as I usually like due to a combination of grad school and pandemic brain, but here is a list of five books I adore that I’ve discovered in the past several years, plus a bonus older series that I wish got more attention. I tried to give some variety of different sorts of books. This got a bit long. I have a lot to say about the books I love!

-The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison: this is a wonderful comfort-read fantasy with a main character who I love and would protect with my life. The worldbuilding is rich (there’s formal and informal pronouns!) with some fascinating touches. It’s the story of the half-goblin youngest son of an elven emperor, raised away from court and out of favor, who unexpectedly gets the throne when his father and older brothers are killed in an airship crash. Can this shy, anxious young man solve the mystery of his father's death and hold onto his throne without losing his gentle, empathetic nature?

-The Murderbot Diaries series by Martha Wells, beginning with All Systems Red: super fun science fiction with a page-turning plot and an oh-so relatable, snarky narrator. Murderbot is a security construct who has hacked itself and just wants to use its new freedom of mind to watch media in peace, but the pesky humans around it keep needing rescuing, and there’s some evil corporate shenanigans going on. This is a series of several novellas and one full-length novel.

-The Invisible Library series by Genevieve Cogman, beginning with the book of the same name: these books are romps packed full of things that I love. Librarians wielding language as magic! Witty banter! Dragons! The Fae! Parallel worlds! A Sherlock Holmes-esque detective! Heists! Steampunk! Intrigue! A creepy villain! Likable characters at the center hold everything together.

-The Refrigerator Monologues by Catherynne Valente: you know the “women in refrigerators” trope folks complain about from comics and other dude-centered media? The premise of this book is that a group of women who were connected in some way to superheroes (sometimes they’re the un-powered girlfriends, sometimes they’re superpowered themselves) getting together in the afterlife to tell the stories of their own lives, how they are complex people who are more than how they suffered for some man’s journey. This book is angry and sorrowful, but also engaging, motivating and even funny in parts. Catherynne Valente’s prose is always astounding. If superheroes aren’t your jam, try her wise and whimsical middle-grade portal fantasy The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making or her “Eurovision in space to save the world” Douglas Adams-esque novel Space Opera.

—The Calculating Stars by Mary Robinette Kowal: alt-history sci-fi with an intersectional social justice lens. An asteroid strike in the early 1950s prompts an international effort to radically accelerate the space program. The protagonist is a woman pilot trying to become an astronaut. The author has done a TON of research into the actual history of space travel and it shows. This is sort of what you’d get if you crossed The Martian with Hidden Figures and threw in a major natural disaster. Note that this is part of trilogy. I’ve only read the first two, but I’ve heard only good things about the third.

-Bonus old favorite: The Blood and Smoke series by Tanya Huff: urban fantasy that will appeal to fans of Buffy, among other things. The Blood books center on Vicky Nelson, a tough and stubborn PI who gets drawn in to dealing with the supernatural when she meets vampire Henry Fitzroy (bastard son of Henry VIII, short, charismatic, bisexual vampire…I love Henry so much). The Smoke books, which I love even more, center on Tony, a minor character in the Blood books who has moved on to get a job on the crew of a vampire detective TV show. These books are creepy, exciting, snarky, and have pretty good queer rep. (Henry’s bi, Tony’s gay and has a super cute canon romantic plotline in the Smoke books). They’re a bit dated, especially the earlier Blood books from the early 90s, but considering their age their take on a lot of the urban fantasy tropes feels quite fresh. More people need to read these and then post Tony/Lee fics on AO3 for me to enjoy. You can start with either Blood Ties, the first overall, or skip to the Smoke series with Smoke and Shadows.

The long list of books I also considered including: Gideon the Ninth by Tamsin Muir, the October Daye series by Seanan McGuire (really, almost anything by Seanan), The Collapsing Empire by John Scalzi, A Natural History of Dragons by Marie Brennan, Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik, and All the Birds in the Sky by Charlie Jane Anders.

Happy reading, anon! I'm happy to talk about books (almost) any time.

#books #asks #hope you find something you like here!#recs

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nishatee · 2 months ago

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princelymlm · 6 years ago

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Gotta Be LGBT+

This is a list of just some of the LGBT+ content out there. Anything on this list was contains LGBT+ characters or was made by LGBT+ creators. All entries on this list were sent in by followers and have not been confirmed by the mod. (Entries with ‘rep not given’ next to them mean that the suggestion did not include what kind of representation is in the content)

Put everything under the cut since this list started getting really long

Books/Comics

They Both Die At The End - Adam Silvera (mlm)

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe - Benjamin Alire-Saénz (mlm)

Symptoms of Being Human (genderfluid)

Lily and Dunkin - Donna Gephart (trans/trans woman)

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo - Taylor Jenkins Reid (wlw/bi)

The Gentleman’s Guide To Vice and Virtue - Mackenzie Lee (mlm/gay/bi)

Been Here All Along - Sandy Hall (gay/bi)

History Is All You Left Me - Adam Silvera (mlm/gay)

Blue Is The Warmest Color - Julie Maroh (wlw/bi/lesbian)

Mask of Shadows - Linsey Miller (bi/genderfluid)

Once and Future - Cori McCarthy (wlw/mlm/gay/bi/nonbinary)

Simon vs the Homosapiens Agenda - Beck Albertalli (mlm/gay)

Leah on the Offbeat - Becky Albertalli (wlw/bi)

Grasshopper Jungle - Andrew Smith (questioning/mlm)

The Rest of Us Just Live Here - Patrick Ness (mlm/gay)

Flying Tips For Flightless Birds - Kelly McCaughrain (mlm/gay)

I’ll Give You The Sun - Jandy Nelson (mlm)

Point Pleasant - Jen Archer Wood (mlm)

True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - Gerard Way (mlm/wlw)

The Wayfarers Series - Becky Chambers (wlw/aro/trans man/nonbinary/genderfluid)

Vesuvius Club - Mark Gatiss (bi)

The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller (mlm)

Radio Silence - Alice Oseman (bi/mlm/demi/gay/pan/wlw/lesbian)

Of Fire and Stars - Audrey Coulthurst (wlw/lesbian)

Magnus Chase Series - Rick Riordan (genderfluid)

Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan (gay)

This Is Kind of An Epic Love Story - Kheyrn Callender (mlm/wlw)

Gracefully Grayson - Ami Polonsky (trans woman)

If I Was Your Girl - Meredith Russon (trans woman)

Call Me By Your Name - Andre Aciman (mlm)

Red, White, and Royal Blue - Casey McQuinston (mlm)

I Wish You All The Best - Mason Deaver (nonbinary)

Dreadnaught + Sovereign - April Daniels (wlw/trans woman)

The Art of Being Normal - Lisa Williamson (trans)

The Gone Series - Michael Grant (mlm/wlw)

One Of Us Is Lying - Karen McManus (mlm)

Six Of Crows - Leigh Bardugo (mlm)

Crooked Kingdom - Leigh Bardugo (rep not given)

The Last Sun - Author Not Provided (rep not given)

Romeo and/or Juliet - Ryan North (rep not given)

American Gods - Neil Gaiman (mlm/gay/bi)

The Mage Wars Series - Mercedes Lackey (gay)

Scott Pilgrim vs The World - Bryan Lee O’Malley (mlm/gay/wlw)

Boyfriends With Girlfriends - Alex Sánchez (mlm/wlw/bi/gay)

Will Grayson, Will Grayson - David Levithan & John Green (mlm)

This Is Where It Ends -Marieke Nijkamp (lesbian/wlw)

Carry On - Rainbow Rowell (mlm)

Stranger Than Fanfiction - Chris Colfer (mlm/trans man/gay)

The Reader Trilogy (The Reader, The Speaker, The Storyteller) - Traci Chee (mlm/wlw/nonbinary)

I Was Born For This - Alice Oseman (trans)

Heartstopper - Alice Oseman (mlm)

The Broken Earth Trilogy - MK Jemisin (trans woman/poly/pan/mlm

A Boy Worth Knowing - Jennifer Cosgrove (mlm/bi/gay)

The Rifter - Author Not Provided (mlm)

Snapdragon - Author Not Provided (wlw/ trans woman)

The Priory of the Orange Tree - Samantha Shannon (wlw/lesbian/mlm/gay)

Tipping the Velvet - Sarah Waters (wlw/lesbian)

Fingersmith - Sarah Waters (wlw/lesbian)

The Paying Guests - Sarah Waters (wlw/lesbian)

I Am J - Cris Beam (trans man)

Little And Lion - Brandy Colbert (bi)

Autoboyography - Christina Lauren (bi)

Felix Ever After - Kacen Callender (trans)

Birthday - Meredith Russo (trans)

Stay Gold - Tobly McSmith (trans)

You Should See Me In A Crown - Leah Johnson (lesbian)

Girls of Paper and Fire - Natasha Ngan (lesbian)

The Henna Wars - Adiba Jaigirdar (lesbian)

Let's Talk About Love - Claire Kann (ace)

The Lady's Guide To Petticoats and Piracy - Mackenzi Lee (ace/aro)

The Vanishers' Place - Aliette De Bodard (wlw)

Ash - Malinda Lo (wlw/bi)

The Little Homo Sapiens Scientist - S. L. Huang (wlw)

Everfair - Nisi Shawl (wlw)

Dread Nation: Risse Up - Justina Ireland (wlw/bi/ace)

The Gilda Stories - Jewelle Gomez (wlw/lesbian)

The True Queen - Zen Cho (wlw)

The Devourers - Indra Das (genderfluid/bi)

We Set The Dark On Fire - Tehlor Kay Mejia (wlw)

Smoketown - Tenea D. Johnson (wlw/lesbian)

Falling In Love With Hominids - Nalo Hopkinson (wlw)

The Fox’s Tower and Other Tales - Yoon Ha Lee (nonbinary)

Her Body and Other Parties - Carmen Maria Machado (wlw)

Beneath the Citadel - Destiny Soria (mlm/gay/bi/ace)

Witchmark - C.L Polk (mlm/gay)

The Prey of Gods - Nicky Drayden (trans/bi)

An Unkindness of Ghosts - Rivers Solomon (wlw/trans/nonbinary/intersex)

The Root - Na’amen Gobert Tilahun (mlm/gay)

Gods & Monsters: Snake Eyes - Hillary Monohan (wlw)

Labyrinth Lost - Zoraida Cordova (wlw/bi)

The Winged Histories - Sofia Samatar (wlw)

The Weight of Stars - K. Ancrum (wlw)

Huntress - Malinda Lo (wlw)

Will Do Magic For Small Change - Andrea Hairston (bi/pan/nonbinary)

The Last Chronomancer - Reilyn J Hardy (aro/ace/genderfluid/lesbian)

A Taste of Honey - Kai Ashante Wilson (mlm/bi)

Deadline - Stephanie Ahn (wlw/lesbian)

The Read Threads of Fortune - JY Yang (wlw/bi)

Not Your Sidekick - C.B. Lee (wlw/bi)

Timekeeper - Tara Sim (mlm)

Ascension - Jacqueline Koyangi (wlw)

When The Moon Was Ours - Anna-Marie McLemore (trans)

Amberlough - Lara Elena Donnelly (mlm/gay)

The Perfect Assassin - K.A Doore (gay/ace/mlm)

Afterparty - Daryl Gregory (wlw/lesbian)

Borderline - Mishell Baker (wlw/bi)

The Cloud Roads - Martha Wells (bi)

An Accident of Stars - Foz Meadows (wlw/bi/aro/trans)

The Last 8 - Laura Pohl (aro/bi)

Failure to Communicate - Kaia Sonderby (wlw/bi)

The Luminous Dead - Caitlin Starling (wlw)

The Wrong Stars - Tim Pratt (wlw)

Full Fathom Five - Max Gladstone (trans)

A Memory Called Empire - Arkady Martine (wlw)

Silver In the Wood - Emily Tesh (mlm)

The Raven Tower - Ann Leckie (mlm/bi/trans)

Ariah - B.R. Sanders (mlm/bi/nonbinary)

The Raven and the Reindeer - T. Kingfisher (wlw)

Planetfall - Emma Newman (bi)

Black Wings Beating - Alex London (ace/gay/mlm)

The Scorpion Rule - Erin Bow (bi)

Inkmistress - Audrey Coulthurst (bi)

Into the Drowning Deep - Mira Grant (wlw/bi/lesbian)

Vengeful - V.E Schwab (ace)

Blackfish City - Sam J Miller (nonbinary)

Daughter of Mystery - Heather Rose Jones (wlw/lesbian)

Stranger Grace - Tessa Gratton (bi/pan)

The Brilliant Death - Amy Rose Capetta (nonbinary)

Chameleon Moon - RoAnna Sylver (wlw/trans/ace)

19 Love Stories - David Levithan (trans/queer)

It’s Not Like It’s A Secret - Author Not Given (wlw)

Picture Us In The Light - Author Not Given (mlm)

Two Can Keep A Secret - Author Not Given (mlm/bi)

Death Sets Sail - Author Not Given (wlw)

Becoming Dinah - Author Not Given (rep not provided)

Witch Wolf series - Winter Pennington (wlw, lesbian, bisexual)

Underrealm series - Garrett Robinson (wlw, mlm, nonbinary, trans man trans woman, trans, pansexual, bisexual)

A Cloak of Red - Brenna Gawain (wlw, lesbian)

Blood Canticles - Naomi Clark (wlw)

Podcasts

Welcome to Night Vale (mlm/gay/wlw/nonbinary)

Dreamboy (mlm/gay)

Alice Isn’t Dead (wlw/lesbian)

The Penumbra Podcast (mlm/bi/genderfluid/nonbinary)

My Favorite Podcast (trans men)

Within the Wires (wlw)

The Adventure Zone (mlm/wlw/trans/gnc/nonbinary)

Limetown (wlw/lesbian)

Getting Curious With Jonathan Van Ness (nblm/nonbinary)

Friends at the Table (mlm/wlw/nonbinary)

LezHangOut (wlw)

Bright Sessions (mlm/demi/ace)

Queer As Fact (historical lgbt)

History Is Gay (historical lgbt)

Always Here (historical lgbt)

And That’s Why We Drink (nonbinary)

Magnus Archives (mlm/ace)

The Two Princes (mlm/gay/bi)

Girl-ish (trans women)

The Bright Sessions (gay/ace)

TV Shows/Movies/ETC

One Day At A Time (Remake) (wlw/lesbian/nonbinary)

Love, Simon (mlm/gay)

A Single Man (mlm/gay)

Brokeback Mountain (mlm/gay)

In The Flesh (mlm/gay)

Weekend (mlm)

RWBY (wlw/trans)

Jessica Jones (wlw/lesbian)

Critical Role (mlm/gay/bi/wlw/lesbian/nonbinary/genderfluid)

Pose (trans women/gay)

Schitt’s Creek (pan/mlm)

White Collar (wlw)

Lucifer (bi)

Umbrella Academy (mlm/wlw)

Call Me By Your Name (mlm)

Brooklyn Nine Nine (mlm/gay/bi)

Steven Universe (nonbinary)

Sailor Moon (wlw)

Buffy the Vampire Slayer (wlw)

Sense8 (mlm/gay/wlw/lesbian/trans woman)

Doom Patrol (?/rep not given)

Good Omens (nonbinary)

Gentleman Jack (wlw)

American Gods (mlm/gay/bi/two-spirit)

Orange Is The New Black (wlw/trans)

Blue Is The Warmest Color (wlw)

Shameless (mlm/trans)

Euphoria (wlw/trans woman)

Modern Family (mlm/gay)

Daisy Brown ARG (wlw/lesbian)

Deadpool (pan)

Deadpool 2 (pan/wlw)

Alex Strangelove (mlm/gay)

Wynonna Earp (lesbian/gay/wlw)

She-Ra (wlw/mlm/gay/bi/lesbian/nonbinary/trans man)

SKAM (rep not provided)

Gotham (bi)

The Haunting of Hill House (wlw)

The Haunting of Bly Manor (wlw)

Kipo and the Wonderbeasts (mlm/gay/nonbinary)

Billie and Emma (wlw)

Carmen & Lola (wlw)

Carol (wlw)

Disobedience (wlw)

Elisa & Marcela (wlw)

Good Manners (wlw)

The Handmaiden (wlw)

Heart Beat Loud (wlw)

Portrait of a Lady on Fire (wlw)

Rafiki (wlw)

Stranger Things (wlw)

Handsome Devil (mlm)

Pride (wlw/mlm)

Musicals

The Prom (wlw/lesbian)

Be More Chill (mlm/bi)

Fun Home (wlw)

Spring Awakening (mlm)

A New Brain (mlm)

Falsettos (mlm/wlw)

Rent (mlm/wlw)

Firebringer (wlw/bi)

A Very Potter Musical (mlm/gay)

The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals (wlw)

Bare: A Pop Opera (mlm)

Everybody’s Talking About Jaime (mlm/gay)

Yank! The Musical (mlm)

Octet (wlw)

Ghost Quartet (wlw)

Spies Are Forever (mlm/gay)

Willow: A New Musical (wlw)

Over And Out: A New Musical (nblw/nonbinary)

Video Games

Fallout: New Vegas (mlm/gay/wlw/lesbian)

When The Night Comes (mlm/nonbinary)

The Arcana (nonbinary)

Dream Daddy (mlm/gay/bi/pan/trans)

Dragon Age (mlm/wlw/gay/lesbian/trans/pan/bi)

Smile For Me (wlw)

Undertale (trans/nonbinary/wlw/mlm)

Monster Prom (nonbinary)

Cookie Run (nonbinary/mlm/wlw/bi/pan)

The Missing (wlw/trans woman)

Fable 2 & 3 (wlw/mlm)

Borderlands 2 (mlm/wlw/bi/gay/lesbian)

Gone Home (wlw)

Prey (wlw)

Dishonored 2 (nonbinary/wlw)

Deus Ex Mankind Divided System Rift (rep not given)

Assassins Creed Series (mlm/wlw/gay/lesbian/trans)

The Last of Us (wlw/lesbian)

Mass Effect Series (mlm/wlw/gay/lesbian/bi)

Life Is Strange (wlw)

Overwatch (mlm/gay/wlw/lesbian)

Animal Crossing (pan)

Night In The Woods (pan/mlm/trans woman)

The Elder Scrolls (trans/wlw/lesbian)

Dreamfall Chapters (mlm/gay)

Dishonored: Death of the Outsider (wlw)

In the Outer Worlds (wlw/ace)

Elder Scrolls: Skyrim (mlm/wlw)

Fallout 4 (wlw/mlm)

Hades (mlm/bi)

Obviously this list is far from complete so feel free to add to it or let me know of anything else and I’ll edit the post to add it as long as you include the category it belongs to! Be sure to include what representation it has though otherwise I can’t add it!

#lgbt #mlm #wlw #bi #gay #lesbian #trans #nb #nblm #nblnb #nblw #lgbt recs

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lilaccatholic · 4 years ago

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Ugh, this article from Vanity Fair (copied below the cut for those of you who have run out of free articles for the month) about how many old Hollywood stars were forced into abortions to keep up their “images”—with some of them being absolutely destroyed by the procedure—is absolutely horrifying. How anyone can look at this and not see how these poor women were abused and manipulated is beyond me.

Abortions were our birth control,” an anonymous actress once said about the common procedure’s place in Hollywood from the 1920s through the 1950s. While patriarchal political powers connive to block women’s legal access to abortion in 21st century America, in Old Hollywood, abortions were far more standard and far more accessible than they often are today—more like aspirin, or appendectomies. How and why did a procedure that was taboo and illegal at the time become so ordinary—at least, among a certain set?

Much like today, in Old Hollywood, the decisions being made about women’s bodies were made in the interests of men—the powerful heads of motion pictures studios MGM, Paramount Pictures, Warner Bros., and RKO. As Aubrey Malone writes in Hollywood's Second Sex: The Treatment of Women in the Film Industry, 1900-1999, “If you want to play in this business, you play like a man or you’re out. And if you happen to be a woman, better not mention it to anybody.”

From the very infancy of America’s film industry, abortions were necessary body maintenance for women in the spotlight. Birth control, including prophylactics, were about as new as “stars” themselves—movie performers who went overnight from being “Little Mary” or “The Vitagraph Girl” to “America’s Sweetheart” or “Sex Goddess.”

“These newly wealthy men and women didn’t know how to control their money, their bodies, or their lives, spending, cavorting, and reveling in excess,” writes Anne Helen Petersen in Scandals of Classic Hollywood. In the working environment of the Hollywood studio system, society’s 19th-century sexual segregation had fallen away. Women—flappers, It girls, sirens and seductresses—were spared their destiny in the kitchen, and for the first time, they earned large incomes they could spend on whatever and whomever they wished. Many believed the publicity they read about their own erotic powers, and they went toe-to-toe professionally with men. Sparks were bound to fly.

And so it became necessary for the studios to implement reformatory measures to prevent stars from destroying their value through scandal. In 1922, Will H. Hays Hays collaborated with studios to introduce mandatory “morality clauses” into stars’ contracts. Consequently an unintended pregnancy would not only bring shame to these top box-office earners—it would violate studio policy. “[I]t was a common assumption that glamorous stars would not be popular if they had children,” writes Cari Beauchamp in her book on powerful women in Old Hollywood, Without Lying Down.

These clauses may have extended to an actress’s right to marry. According to Petersen, rumor had it that “Blonde Bombshell” Jean Harlow couldn’t wed William Powell because “MGM had written a clause into her contract forbidding her to marry”—a wife couldn’t be a “bombshell,” after all. When Harlow became pregnant from the affair, she called MGM head of publicity Howard Strickling in a panic. Shortly thereafter, according to E.J. Fleming in The Fixers: Eddie Mannix, Howard Strickling and the MGM Publicity Machine, “Mrs. Jean Carpenter” entered Good Shepherd Hospital “to get some rest.” She was seen only by her private doctors and nurses in room 826, the same room she had occupied the year before for an “appendectomy.”

In the 1930s, vamp and man-eating thespian Tallulah Bankhead got “abortions like other women got permanent waves,” biographer Lee Israel quips in Miss Tallulah Bankhead. When virtuous singing sensation Jeanette McDonald found herself pregnant in 1935, MGM studio boss Louis B. Mayer told Strickling to “get rid of the problem.” McDonald soon checked into a hospital with an “ear infection,” according to Fleming’s The Fixers.

Many of these Silent Sex Goddesses either fell victim to their own hedonism, fell out of favor, or burned out, such as Theda Bara and Clara Bow. Others, like Joan Crawford, kept going. Kenneth Anger writes that Crawford was a “gutsy jazz baby” who marched through the “twin holocaust of the Talkies/Crash unscathed” to escape her dirt-poor origins. “Joan knew where she came from,” he continues, “and did not want to go back there.”

Get 1 year for $15.Join Now In 1931 Joan Crawford, estranged from her husband Douglas Fairbanks Jr., became pregnant with what she believed was Clark Gable’s child and Strickling arranged for an abortion. Rather than reveal the truth, Crawford told Fairbanks that during the filming of Rain on Catalina Island, she slipped on the deck of a ship and lost the baby.

Crawford’s rival Bette Davis also willingly chose to have abortions for the sake of her career. Davis was the breadwinner for her entire family—her mother and sister, and her husband, Harmon Nelson, whom she married in 1932. If she’d had a child in 1934, she told her biographer Charlotte Chandler in The Girl Who Walked Home Alone, she would’ve “missed the biggest role in her life thus far”—that of Mildred in Of Human Bondage, which earned Davis her first Oscar nomination. Other great parts—“Jezebel, Judith, Elizabeth, Charlotte, and Margo Channing”—may not have followed, either. “But I didn’t miss any of these roles, and I didn’t miss having a family,” she said. Later in life, Davis had three children.

Her first child, Barbara Davis Sherry—known as B.D.—was born when Davis was 39. As biographer Whitney Stine notes in I’d Love to Kiss You: Conversations with Bette Davis, “she was proud of the fact that, after her abortions, she could have a baby at last and a career, because her mother had always insisted that she couldn’t have both. She never tired of reminding [her mother] that she could be a mother and an actress.”

“A child could wait; her career could not.” That’s the reasoning Jean Harlow’s mother gave about her daughter’s own abortion at age 18. Ava Gardner, too, expressed a similar sentiment when discussing her abortion, which she had when married to Frank Sinatra—unbeknownst to him. “‘MGM had all sorts of penalty clauses about their stars having babies,’” Jane Ellen Wayne quotes Gardner saying in The Golden Girls of MGM. “‘If I had one, my salary would be cut off. So how could I make a living? Frank was broke and my future movies were going to take me all over the world. I couldn’t have a baby with that sort of thing going on. MGM made all the arrangements for me to fly to London. Someone from the studio was with me all the time. The abortion was hush hush . . . very discreet.’”

But things didn’t work out quite so well for Judy Garland. Famous primarily for playing Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz and struggling to maintain both her weight and her image as an ingenue, Garland was never free to make her own choices.

“Married or not, the MGM girls maintained their virginal image,” Wayne observes, and this was especially true of Garland. In 1941, at age 19, she married the bandleader David Rose without the approval of MGM, and within 24 hours was ordered back by to work. When she became pregnant by Rose, her mother, Ethel, in cahoots with the studio, arranged for Garland to have an abortion. Audiences loved her as a child—not as a mother. In 1943, Garland became pregnant from her affair with Tyrone Power, according to Petersen. Strickling arranged for her to have an abortion. Arguably, these incidents affected Garland psychologically; eventually she became the first public victim of stardom.

Tyrone Power also got Lana Turner pregnant. Again, Strickling arranged for an abortion. Power was one of a constellation of male stars—such as Errol Flynn, Clark Gable, and Charlie Chaplin—whose unbridled dalliances left women paying the price, according to The Fixers. (The phrase “In like Flynn” alludes to Errol’s ease at bedding women—and his good fortune at being acquitted of statutory rape of two teenage girls.)

Strickling, who was by now referred to as a “fixer,” had his hands full with Turner. The “Sweater Girl” allegedly found herself pregnant by bandleader Artie Shaw in 1941, and Strickling arranged an abortion during her publicity tour of Hawaii. The procedure took place without anesthesia, on her hotel bed. Turner’s mother covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her daughter’s cries. A studio doctor, paid $500 that was then deducted from Turner’s paycheck, performed the procedure. A week later, she was back on set filming Ziegfeld Girl, according to The Fixers.

Some actresses struggled with whether or not to keep their child. Mexican screen siren Lupe Velez committed suicide in 1944 because she was pregnant by her lover Harald Ramond, who wouldn’t marry her. A devout Catholic, she declined to call “Doctor Killkare” (“the joke name for Tinseltown’s leading abortionist,” according to Kenneth Anger in Hollywood Babylon), and downed 75 Seconal instead, according to Hollywood Babylon.

The decision was equally tragic for Dorothy Dandridge. Otto Preminger had directed her in Carmen Jones and made her a star. When she became pregnant by him in 1955, he refused to divorce his wife and marry her. Dandridge was forced to have an abortion; the studio demanded it, according to Scandals of Classic Hollywood, not only because a child would compromise her image as the sexy Carmen Jones, but also because Preminger was a white man. And, while miscegenation laws were repealed in California in 1948, nationwide they were still very much in place.

Ironically, the rebel of her day was Loretta Young—not because she had an abortion, but because she refused to have one. A devout Catholic, Young journeyed abroad in 1935 to recuperate from a ‘mystery illness,’ after she found herself with child by Clark Gable under shady circumstances—and avoided the press. She gave birth to her daughter at home in Los Angeles. Young initially gave the child up for adoption—and then, a few months later, officially adopted her, according to The Fixers.

In the heyday of the Hollywood studio system, women were at their most desirable and their most powerful—but it still didn’t afford them the right to choose when it came to governing their bodies. Hollywood’s production codes extended to women’s reproduction. In the hundred years or so that have passed since the birth of American cinema, everything has changed—though, then again, perhaps nothing has.

#tw abortion

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isthsnametakenyet · 5 years ago

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Favourite book?

What do I have here? An excuse to rant and rave (and fangirl a little) about books I love, for an unprecedented amount of time? Sign me up lads.

First thing’s first – I am physically incapable of choosing one favourite book. Rather, I will list several favourites, along with the pile of books on my TBR, categorising by genre (because I am a nerd). Lets do this!

Young Adult Contemporary Fiction

- Looking For Alibrandi, by Melina Marchetta: (A YA Contemporary written by the Aussie queen herself, Melina Marchetta. Following Italian-Australian Josie’s coming of age story as she grapples with family, identity, and home, this novel will forever be a favourite.)

- Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe, by Benjamin Alire Saenz: (This is Ari and Dante’s beautiful, lyrically written story of love, family and identity. It is one that I have found myself rereading time and time again.)

- I’ll Give You The Sun, by Jandy Nelson: (We follow the perspectives of twins Noah and Jude over two different timelines. It is not only about their journeys of self-discovery, but also about the family tragedy that tore them apart.)

Young Adult/New Adult/Adult Fantasy

- The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue, by Mackenzi Lee: (A YA Fantasy Historical Fiction full of romance, magic, adventure, pirates, witty banter, near death situations and 18th Century fabulousness!)

- Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom (duology), by Leigh Bardugo: (All I can say is that in my eyes, this duology is the epitome of top-notch YA Fantasy. If I continue to write about these books I will go on for pages … So, enough said – read it!)

- The Raven Cycle series, by Maggie Stiefvater: (I devoured this four-book series in three days, and here’s why: magic, psychic powers, ancient Welsh kings, curses, ghosts, demons, nearly-dying, actually dying, Wealthy Private School Boys, Not-So-Wealthy Private School Boys, A Badass Not-Psychic Girl Who Dislikes Private School Boys But Who Ends Up Becoming Besties With Said Private School Boys.)

- The Diviners, by Libba Bray: (A ghost murder mystery following a cast of psychic characters set in 1920s New York City … it is a big yes from me.)

Adult Fiction

- Pachinko, by Min Jin Lee: (A historical family saga through four generations of a Korean family who seek a better home, watch the home they left become divided and unrecognisable, live through the struggle of war and the political turmoil of Japanese colonisation. This novel is both a fictional and true story. It was fascinating and heart wrenching and powerful – definitely one that stands out as a favourite.)

- The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, by Annie Barrows and Mary Ann Shaffer: (Exploring both the hardships of war and the power of literature, this novel follows an English author as she finds herself post WW2 on the Guernsey Channel Islands amidst the one-of-a-kind Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society – aka the coolest book club in town.)

- The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, by Taylor Jenkins Reid: (An intricate, enthralling, eye-opening novel with constant cliff-hangers that led to me sacrificing many hours of sleep for answers.)

Children and Middle Grade Fiction

- The Magic Faraway Tree series, by Enid Blyton

- The Naughtiest Girl series, by Enid Blyton

- The Geronimo Stilton series!, by “Geronimo Stilton”

- The Spiderwick Chronicles, by Holly Black

- The Percy Jackson series, by Rick Riordan

- The Harry Potter series, by J K Rowling

+ every Judy Blume book under the sun

Non-Fiction + Classics

- Educated , by Tara Westover (Memoir)

- Dubliners, by James Joyce (Classic, collection of short stories)

- The Bloody Chamber, by Angela Carter (Classic, collection of short stories)

Books on my (ever-growing) TBR [My To Be Read list]

- Girls of Paper and Fire, by Natasha Ngan (Fantasy)

- The Ten Thousand Doors of January, by Alix E Harrow (Fantasy)

- Vicious, by V E Schwab (Fantasy)

- The Night Circus, by Erin Morgenstern (Fantasy)

- Ninth House, by Leigh Bardugo (Fantasy)

- Where the Crawdads Sing, by Delia Owens (Fiction)

- The Place on Dalhousie, by Melina Marchetta (Fiction)

- Circe, by Madeline Miller (Historical Fantasy Fiction)

- Midnight’s Children, by Salman Rushdie (Historical Magical Realism Fiction)

- Year of Wonders, by Geraldine Brooks (Historical Fiction)

- All the Light We Cannot See, by Anthony Doerr (Historical Fiction)

- The Map of Salt and Stars, by Zeyn Joukhadar (Historical Fiction)

- The Lost Girls of Paris, by Pam Jenoff (Historical Fiction)

- Low Life: Lures and Snares of Old New York, by Luc Sante (Historical Non-Fiction)

- Franklin and Eleanor, by Hazel Rowley (Historical Non-Fiction)

- Emergency S*x and Other Desperate Measures: True Stories from a War Zone, by Heidi Postlewait, Kenneth Cain, Andrew Thomson (Non-Fiction)

- Our Man: Richard Holbrooke and the End of the American Century, by George Packer (Non-Fiction)

- The Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho (Classic)

I hope some of you find this helpful or interesting! Be sure to share your own favourite reads / any book recommendations as well! If you want to keep up to date with what I’m reading, follow me here:

Insta @ isthisnametakenyet

Goodreads @ isthisnametakenyet

(Thank you for the ask and the chance to go on about my fav books @jessicarevises !)

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keanuvibe · 5 years ago

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Noses in Roses (John Wick x Reader)

A/N: Hi! this is the teacher!reader x John fic I’ve been working on since literally December 21st. It’s taken me so long, and you’ll see why in the word count. This aint even all of it. I decided I’m going to post this in two parts, as there is so much I want to add to this little world. Anyways; enjoy <3

Words: 12.7k

Warnings: swears, pregnancy, mentions of deceased ex-spouse

Summary: You are an elementary school teacher, first grade to be exact. One afternoon your student, James’s nanny is late to pick him up. You then meet his father, John Wick.

October 9th

“Okay kids, go to your cubbies and grab your art folders!” You smiled at the children sitting throughout your classroom. The children immediately got up, rushing over to grab their things. A gentle sigh escaped your lips as you sat down in your desk chair, hand resting on your pregnant belly. The sun shone into the classroom, casting a golden glow throughout the space. Your eyes watched as the kids eagerly began to make art, chatting amongst the others at their tables.

You are an elementary school teacher, first grade to be exact. You've been teaching for nearly seven years now, starting back when you were twenty-five. You jumped around from grade to grade for about three years before settling into teaching first graders. You've been doing that for three years now, and couldn't be happier. You are also pregnant, six months and three days; expecting a little girl. You were very excited, however things hadn't turned out to how you planned.

You used to be married, in fact you were married for six years. Unfortunately, your husband passed away over five months ago. An unknown brain tumor, you found out a few days after. You were devastated and fell into a deep depression. The only thing that helped was your little baby. When she began to move around at four months, it gave you a renewed sense of purpose. From then on you decided to seek help, and now you are doing better. Sure, there were still the bad days, but they were few and far between. Work helped, not being so lonely all the time. Your coworkers were a big help, always offering to be there for you. Miss Dalton, a fellow first grade teacher, had become a close friend of yours over the past three years. She helped you through your husband's death, and still does. There are days where you’ve cried in her class during lunch.

“Miss (Y/L/N)?” A quiet voice asked. You turned your attention to James, one of the boys in your class. He stood next to your desk, arms holding a paper behind his back.

“Yes, honey?” You responded, looking into the boys dark brown eyes. He shyly held up a piece of paper containing a watercolor painting of a tree. The background had been hastily painted blue, and the bottom green. There was a little sun on the top corner of the sheet as well. Typical kid art.

“I made this for you.” He spoke quietly. You smiled wide, grabbing the paper from his grasp.

“Oh, James, it's beautiful!” You cooed the boy, setting the artwork on your desk. James is a bright young boy, and quite adorable. He was one of your favorites, though teachers don't have favorites. You've never met his parents, as his Nanny tends to pick him up. She also attends his parent teacher conferences. You were curious though; you’ve always wanted to meet the mysterious Wicks.

“Thank you.” He said, cheeks turning pink. You smiled at him and gently pat his shoulder before he returned to his seat.

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

Class ended at the usual time, 3:15. You watched as the children scattered, gathering their backpacks and jackets before exiting. From your classroom windows, you watched students load onto buses and cars before taking a seat at your desk, letting out a sigh. You started grading papers, humming quietly before a small knock sounded at your door. Furrowing your brows, you padded over to the entryway and swung open the door. You met the sight of your supervisor, Nancy, and little James standing in front of her.

“What’s up?” You asked, allowing the two of them to enter the room.

“His ride is late, he came to the office unsure what to do.” Mrs. Nelson spoke, sitting James down at one of the tables and handing him a little package of Animal Crackers from her pocket.

“Oh, I’ll handle it from here Nancy, thank you for collecting him.” You spoke to the woman. With a nod, she exited the room.

“I’m going to call Miss Lee, okay?” You spoke to James. Miss Lee is the boys nanny. You’ve gotten relatively close with her, as she’s quite active in Jame’s school career. The boy nodded with a content look, enjoying the crackers in front of his person. You sat back down at your desk, opening a drawer and gathering the kids personnel files. You located his Nanny’s phone number before dialing. There was no answer, even after you've called twice. You took a deep breath, quietly hanging up the phone and looking at the young boy who was sitting at a desk quietly, having finished the crackers. You opened his file once more, noticing another number that'd been scribbled below his Nanny’s. You made out the numbers as best you could and bit your lip before dialing.

“This is Wick.” The phone rang twice before a deep voice answered.

“H-Hi, Mr. Wick. I’m your son's teacher, Miss (Y/L/N). It’s nearly four now, and I noticed James’ Nanny hasn't picked him up.” You stuttered, feeling intimidated by the deep voice. You haven't even seen his face before. Maybe he’s a little dorky but has an attractive voice? Whoa. You've haven't been this flustered over a man since you and your husband started dating.

“She hasn't?” He asked, frustration lacing his tone.

“Um, yes.” You answered, looking at James take a sip from his water bottle.

“I’ll be there in ten.” The line went dead. You nodded and hung up, pursing your lips. So, today was the day you're going to meet Mr. Wick. You were a little nervous, to be honest. James looked in your direction and gave you a warm smile, causing you to feel your heart swell at his cuteness.

“Your father is on his way, James.” You gave him a gentle grin and he nodded in return.

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

Mr. Wick did arrive exactly when he said, ten minutes nearly on the dot. You could hear his shoes echoing down the carpeted hallway of the school, he walked that loud and determined.

“Miss (Y/L/N). Nice to meet you.” You turned your attention from James to the figure that had entered your classroom. Your breath caught in your throat upon seeing the man. He was gorgeous. Sharp features accommodating dark brown eyes; tall, larger than six foot no doubt. His hair was long, but cut at his shoulders and gelled behind his ears. He donned a three piece black suit, and sleek shoes to match.

“Mr. Wick.” You swallowed and stood from your seat, hand smoothing your shirt over your pregnant belly. Mr. Wick caught the movement, and you swear you saw his eyes soften at the sight of your bump.

“Please, call me John.” He spoke gently, holding out his hand for you to shake it. His large grasp engulfed your own, the two of you shaking your arms in unison. You broke the handshake, feeling your fingers tingle from his touch and stepped back.

“James is a wonderful boy, he’s quite smart.” You changed the subject, beckoning the boy to come over. You witnessed him blush slightly, jogging over to his father and hiding behind his leg.

“Well, he wouldn't be this way without a wonderful teacher.” John replied, a smile crossing his features. You felt your heart race and shyly straightened your shirt across your belly.

“Thank you.” You responded, trying to hide the hotness of your cheeks. The man nodded, making sure James had gathered all of his things. John was so gentle with his son it made your heart ache. The way he spoke to him was so caring, and the tender touches. You caught yourself staring while rubbing your own bump and quickly blinked, clearing your throat. John’s hands placed themselves on his son's shoulders. You took note that there wasn't a ring donning his left hand. So, there isn't a Mrs. Wick? Interesting.

“Thank you, Miss (Y/L/N).” James spoke, gleaming up at you. You smiled, pinching his little cheek gently.

“Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow, honey.” You spoke, then looked up to John. He nodded at you, and began leading James out of the classroom. You padded back to your desk, taking a seat as the two men exited. However, footsteps once again approached your door and John poked his head back into your classroom.

“When is the next parent teacher conference?” He asked. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to repress the butterflies that's erupted in your tummy.

“October twenty-fourth, first come first serve at four in the afternoon.” You responded, blinking at the attractive man. He nodded, making a mental note before disappearing behind the door once more.

————————————————————————

October 14th - 11:45am

Your students had just been excused to lunch when your door opened. You set down the sandwich in your hand and looked up, eyes greeting Mr. Wick. He donned a suit, like the last meeting you'd had. He must've come from work. You stood from your seat, brushing off any bread crumbs that'd been trapped on your belly.

“Mr. Wick, what do I owe the pleasure?” You asked softly. Johns eyes smiled as he walked over, towering your shorter frame.

“James forgot his lunch this morning.” John spoke, holding out his sons lunch box. You felt your heart swell at the deed, and grabbed it from his grasp. Your fingers brushed as you passed the container, causing your cheeks to gather a little heat.

“I will make sure he gets this.” You said softly, setting the box on your desk. John still stood, his eyes looking around your classroom. You took the moment to study his face, really gathering in his features. He was older you could tell, as he had a few wrinkles by his eyes And his beard contained little gray specks. His hair was gelled back like before as well. You noticed a small cut along his cheekbone, and furrowed your brow. Possibly a shaving nick?

“Oh, are these their solar system projects?” The man asked, pointing to a display table that contained little clay displays of the planets. You nodded, and walked over to them prompting John to follow.

“Yes. Aren't they cute?” You asked with a soft giggle, picking up one of the displays and showing it closer to John. “I picked colored dough out of the carpet for at least three days after school. I didn't want the custodians to be mad at me.”

John admired your face while you fiddled with the displays. He took in how adorable you were when it came to the kids, always cheerful and loving towards them. At least, from what he's witnessed with James. John hasn't felt much over his life span. Growing up for him wasn't exactly easy, when he discovered he had a son, he promised to be a family-- one he's never had. James’ mother only stayed for a few months of his life before she bailed. She left a nearly folded note on the pillow next to Johns explaining that she didn't want to be a mother anymore. John was left to raise James all by himself, with the help of Nannies over the years. He hadn't tried dating again, maybe a few flings while he was away on work. However after meeting you; he was reconsidering.

He’s also noticed how you don't wear a ring on your finger. Were you single? A part of him hoped you are. Plus, he doesn't even care you're obviously pregnant. In fact, he thought it was cute. You were indeed a cute pregnant lady, wearing dresses with matching cardigans. He wanted to know more about you.

“Anyways, I should run this to the lunchroom so James gets food.” You spoke, setting down the display in your grasp and stepping back to your desk. John nodded, and made his way towards the door.

“I should get back to work.” He murmured, looking back towards you. You grabbed the boys lunchbox and made your way towards the door, meeting John there as well.

“I’ll see you later, Mr. Wick.” You spoke, looking up at the tall man. He smiled at you, nodding in response before flipping on his heel and walking towards the school lobby.

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

“James, here's your lunch honey.” You spoke, walking up to your students designated table. James turned to you from hearing his name and he furrowed his brow. You took note of the school look in front of his person and then furrowed your own brow in confusion.

“I always get school food Miss (Y/L/N). That's not mine.” James spoke, pointing at the box. You nodded and clicked your tongue, a little smile crossing your face.

“Right, I must have you confused.” You replied before turning around. Did John lie about his sons lunch just to see you?

————————————————————————

October 24th - 4:07pm

You currently sat at one of the tables in your classroom, three chairs set up across from you. Today was parent teacher conferences, the day you'd secretly been looking forward to. Ever since you met John, you honestly couldn't get him out of your mind. There was something so interesting about him. He was mysterious, broody, and quite handsome. You haven't seen him since your previous encounter regarding James’s lunch box. It still gave you butterflies, but you didn't mind.

You quietly flipped through your students folders when a knock sounded at the door. You looked up, your eyes greeting the sight of John and James. The man was dressed casual today; worn jeans, a white top, and his hair was loose. You resisted the urge to bite your lip and stood up to greet them.

“Mr. Wick, James,” You smiled between the two boys, “It’s wonderful to see you again.” You reached out your hand for John to shake, his large hand once again engulfing your own.

“The pleasure is mine.” John spoke, a little smile donning his cheeks. You felt slightly dazed by his charm, quickly rubbing your hand over your belly and gesturing to the table for them to sit.

“Please, take a seat and a cookie. I baked them myself. ” You smiled, taking a seat for yourself. James eagerly grabbed a cookie, but looked up at his father for permission. John nodded, causing the boy to start eating the frosting-covered treat. You giggled at the interaction before grabbing James’ folder from the pile.

“I must say, he’s smart for his age.” You began, opening the folder and showing John the statistic covered paper, grading his son. You talked him through each basic genre, telling him what James was strong in and what he needed to practice. The two men sat quietly, listening as you explained what you needed to. John even ate a cookie at one point, filling you with butterflies as he enjoyed the sugary delight.

“Thank you, Miss (Y/L/N).” John spoke, standing up. You and James mimicked his movement, and you straightened your shirt over your belly. Johns eyes cast down, softening at the sight of your bump.

“Please, it’s nothing. I love teaching James.” You smiled. “Speaking of; James, how about you take some of your artwork home, hmm?” The young boy nodded, a smile crossing his cheeks as he darted across the room to his cubby.

“How far along are you?” John’s deep voice took you by surprise. You blushed, fidgeting with your shirt before answering.

“Six and a half months.” A little gleam overtook your eyes as you looked down to your belly. Your thumb carefully traced the design on your shirt before you looked back up to John.

“I assume you and your husband are excited?” The man then asked. You let out a nervous laugh, followed by feeling your heart ache. Your husband. You two were very excited.

“Um, actually-” You paused, looking up to John, “M-My husband passed six months ago.” You nodded, pursing your lips.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” John spoke softly, one of his hands coming up and placing itself on the side of your arm, as though he was comforting you. You subconsciously leaned into the touch, enjoying the warmth his hand provided.

“Thank you.” You responded, your voice barely above a whisper. Just then, James returned with some of his art, ready to show his dad. The boy eagerly held up every piece and John commented on each one, praising his son. You smiled at the interaction, once again feeling the warmth cover your nerves. John is a good father. For a long time, you assumed ill of the Wicks; as you'd only ever met the Nanny. It seemed like they were absent parents. Now having met John twice, you felt different. And James seemed to love his father, which helped convince you more.

“You and his mother must be very proud.” You commented as James rushed back to his cubby to grab some more.

“His mother- She’s not… in the picture.” John stated, voice getting quieter with each word. You nodded, your heart cramping at the thought of James not having a mother.

“Oh... That’s unfortunate.” You murmured, looking over to your student. He finished grabbing all the artwork he was content with and returned to you and John.

“Ready?” John asked and James nodded eagerly. You let out a soft giggle at the boys reaction.

“I’ll hopefully see you soon, Mr. Wick.” You commented as the two boys began to exit the room. John nodded in agreement, leading James out by his shoulders. You let out a quiet sigh, sitting down into your seat, resting a hand on your belly. You felt her kick, her little foot pushing the roundness of your belly slightly out of proportion.

“Miss (Y/L/N)?” Your eyes shot up, jumping at the voice that filled the room. John?

“Call me (Y/N).” You responded, standing back up. John walked over to you, his cheeks slightly more pink that before.

“Okay, (Y/N). Would you like to go on a date?” Johns words rocked you to your core as nerve endings suddenly felt like live wires.

“Y-Yes.”

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

November 2nd - Saturday - 7:29 pm

Your heart pounded as the clock turned 7:30. John would be knocking at your door any minute. It was weird to think you are dating one of your students parents; was it against the rules? I guess, to you, It was more shocking he even asked. John seemed to have his shit together. You’re a single mother with a low-paying job. It was a mystery how this man was so allured by you.

You studied your figure in the closet door mirrors, your signature date dress donning your body. It’s long, hugs your figure in the perfect spots, and not to forget it nicely shows your cleavage; now that you’re a few cup sizes larger. You slipped on a pair of flat shoes, no longer caring for heels. A little anxious sigh left your lips as the doorbell ring startled you. You made your way to the door, looking through the peephole. Seeing Johns figure, you pulled the door open. The man stood, hands tucked behind his back. He turned his head, a grin growing across his lips as you two made eye contact. He wore a fancier, nicer, suit from the previous ones you've seen him in. His hair hadn't been gelled back and remained loose and untamed, falling above his shoulders. The man held out a bouquet of pink roses in one hand, pushing them towards your figure.

“I got these for you.” He murmured, a pink blush crossing his cheeks. You took them from his grasp, a giggle escaping your lips.

“Oh, John, they're wonderful.” You smiled, smelling the roses. “Please, come in. I’m almost ready.” You spoke up, quickly jogging to the kitchen and placing the flowers into a vase. You heard the door close, assuming John was the cause, then padded back out to the living area.

“You have a beautiful home.” He spoke, taking a seat onto the couch.

“It’s not much. I had to move somewhere smaller after my husband… I couldn't afford the mortgage on my own,” You sighed, “Plus, with a baby on the way it's more cost friendly.” You shrugged. “God, I'm over sharing.” You blushed, quickly walking back to you room to finish getting dressed.

John chuckled as you exit and stood up, walking to the picture collection you had on the mantle. He saw one containing an ultrasound picture, smiling softly at the ‘4 months!’ that was scribbled under. He then saw another photo slightly hiding behind it, a photo of you and your ex-husband. You were kissing the cheek of the man, arms draped over his shoulders. He must've taken the photo, as he was smiling at the lens. John set the photo back down, straightening his suit jacket as he heard your footsteps trailing towards him.

“I’m ready.” You smiled. John took in your full appearance now, lavishing over how nicely your dress clung to your frame. He bit the inside of his cheek as his eyes glazed over your cleavage, feeling his mouth water slightly at the delicious sight. You always dressed quite modest at work; which were the only times he’d seen you.

“You look beautiful.” He smiled, holding his arm out for you to wrap your own around. You graciously accepted, and the two of you exited your apartment.

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

John took you to a fancy restaurant downtown. You couldn't even pronounce the name, it was that gaudy. Tables were dressed with white cloths and centerpieces with candles, chandeliers littered the ceiling, expensive curtains donned the windows, and there was even a string quartet playing in the corner of the space. The host seated you at a table near the window, providing a vast view of the city. You two ordered your food and drinks. Of course, you got the cheapest thing on the menu.

“What made you want to be a teacher?” John asked, watching you twirl some spaghetti onto your fork.

“I’ve always enjoyed kids,” You responded, a little smile overtaking your cheeks, “I'm the favorite Aunt to my nieces and nephews.”

“How long have you been in the profession?” He then asked, quietly sipping on a glass of water. John hadn't ordered any alcohol which was surprising to you. He merely requested a pitcher of water for the table.

“Seven years.” You answered, looking up to meet his gaze. The man's features were softened by the candlelight that danced between your figures. You found yourself getting lost in his eyes before clearing your throat and blushing while looking away.

“And you've strictly taught elementary, or…?” He trailed off, a little smile resting on his lips. You were enamored over the fact he was so interested. It felt flattering.

“My first year I was a sixth grade teacher.” You recalled, resting your napkin over your bump. “It was awful. I only stayed one year before I moved down to fourth grade. Ever since then I've jumped lower and lower.” John watched as you spoke, adoring the gleam in your eye as you blabbered on about your career. He felt the urge to hold your hand gently creep up his finger tips, and he took advantage of the moment, grasping your fingers that were resting on the table. You stuttered over your words, feeling a blush crawl it's way up. John’s hand nearly drowned your own, but it was comforting.

“You know,” You began, changing the subject, “You've never told me about your job. In fact, you're a mystery to me, Mr. Wick.” His fingers tightened around your own at your comment. He also just really enjoyed how you still refer to him as Mr. Wick on occasion.

“Well, I bind books.” He stated simply. You furrowed your brow, his personality not matching his career in your head. Your eyes even drifted down to glance at his expensive suit and quickly back up to his face.

“Really?” You managed to ask, surprise lacing your tone. John chuckled at the comment. His fingers removed from your own as he gently pushed some of his hair behind his ear.

“Yes. There is a market for it.” He followed, taking a sip from his drink, feeling relief cross his nerves. Of course John couldn't tell you his actual job. You'd never see him the same.

“Well, if it pays the bills…” You trailed off with an amused shrug.

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

The ride home from dinner was lovely. Johns stunning car hummed as he drove, a quiet classic rock station playing over the radio. John’s right hand was intertwined with your left, while your other hand rest on your belly. You felt the baby moving and smiled, placing your fingers where her small foot pushed your skin. Johns hand subconsciously squeezed your fingers at the sound of your giggling.

“What’s funny?” He asked, glancing over while stopped at a light.

“Sometimes when she moves, I get to touch her feet or hands.” You commented, looking over to John. The adoration across his face made you blush. The car began to move again and the man focused back onto the road. The city passed by as you two may way back to your apartment. You watched as the night life roared around, many people donning their tight cocktail dresses and sparkly high heels. Neon lights from the businesses cast hues of blue and red across the streets.

“John, can I ask you a question?” You asked after the two of you had gotten quiet. Your right hand rest on your bump comfortably, thumb grazing softly.

“Yes.” He responded, his hand squeezing your own.

“Why're you not… scared… that I’m pregnant?” You blurted, feeling a sheer shade of pink coat your cheeks. It’d been on your mind for a while now; since John had begun showing interest. The man was silent for a couple minutes before answering.

“I’ve let myself remain unhappy for a long time... And with James… I need to be at my best. After I met you, I- I felt myself falling. I don’t care that you’re my son’s teacher. Infact, it makes it easier to see you.” The man paused, “I’m not scared because I care about you. Deeply.” John's words caused furious butterflies to scatter throughout your stomach. You bit your lip, holding back both excitement and a smile.

“It doesn't bother you that i'm almost seven months along? ” You asked, rubbing your hand down your belly.

“I don't mind that you're pregnant. It’s kind of exciting.” He spoke softly, his right hand squeezing your left firmly. Your heart felt full at his comment. You didn't respond, only basked in the happy glow surrounding your figures. John turned up the radio a little bit, and the two of you spent the rest of the car ride in a comfortable silence.

————————————————————————

November 8th

Rain pattered down onto the classroom windows as your students sat quietly, taking a vocabulary test. It was the end of the day, and Friday, however you didn't have any plans. John has been out of town due to his job for nearly 5 days now. You didn't know book binding could be such… meticulous work. You tried to coo it out of James as to where his father had jetted off to, but the little boy didn't have a clue. A little sigh passed your lips as you felt some sadness wash over you. You missed John. As weird as that felt; you've only been on one date. You've been texting, and he’ll call you in the evenings, but you wished he was standing right here.

A couple of your students stood from their desks and placed the tests onto your desk. You gave each of them a little smile as they returned to their seats. James came up next, placing his paper onto the stack of the others. He looked up towards you, a little melancholy across his face. You furrowed your brow, and made a mental note to speak with him after class.

The last fifteen minutes of class flew by, and before you knew it the bell rang dismissing the kids. You greeted each of them at the door, making sure they were bundled up from the cool fall rain outside, before sending them on their way. James was the last, you made sure. Just as he was placing a little beanie atop his head, you spoke up.

“James, how are you?” You kept your tone caring.

“I miss my dad.” He spoke, looking down at his feet. You frowned and walked over to comfort the boy. You kneeled, as best you could, at the side of his desk and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I understand why,” You responded, wishing you could've said ‘Me too’. “Shall we give him a call?” You then asked, the idea popping into your head. James looked up at you and a little smile crossed his cheeks.

“Okay,” His voice was soft, but eager. You stood back up, and trailed over to your desk retrieving your cell phone. James stood close to your person as you dialed and put the phone onto speaker. It took three rings before John answered.

“Hello.” His voice was rough, as though he was out of breath.

“Hi, Mr. Wick. It’s um, Miss (Y/L/N). I have James here with me, and he-”

“Hi daddy!” James exclaimed, excited to hear his father's voice.

“Is everything okay?” John asked. There were a few muffled grunts coming from the other line and you furrowed your brows. What could he be doing at the moment? Binding books too aggressively?

“Yeah, we’re fine... Are you?” You asked him, looking up at James.

“When are you coming home?” James interrupted any answer John couldve given with an innocent smile. You could hear John speaking a few muffled words.

“I’ll be home tonight.” The man's voice was rough. It honestly gave you flushed cheeks. Well, to be fair, your hormones right now are out of control; being this pregnant. John made you feel like a fifteen year old, not being able to control yourself.

“Oh, wonderful.” You managed, a smile crossing your cheeks.

“(Y/N), I’m going to pick you up, we’ll have dinner with James at my home.” John’s voice floated out of the phone and butterflies erupted in your tummy.

“That sounds lovely.” Was all you managed.

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

John arrived to your apartment around six-thirty that evening. His vintage car roaring outside was the tel he’d arrived. You carefully trotted down your apartment’s stairs before climbing into the man's car. He greeted you with a kiss on the cheek, as you haven’t actually kissed yet. No, he was too much of a gentleman on the first date. You wanted to feel what those lips had to offer though. God. Your hormones.

You hadn’t been to John’s home yet, and when he pulled through the gate, your eyes bugged. His home was nice, large, and private; emphasis on large. John pulled into the garage, exiting the car first and opening the passenger door for you. You thanked him as he grabbed ahold of your hand to steady your frame from falling. He then escorted you inside. Your eyes met the sight of a lavish kitchen, covered in white cabinets and light wood floors. It’d been used, as there was a pile of dirty dishes in the sink and little food remnants on the countertops. Did John cook dinner? After being gone on a business trip for five days? The man continued through the house, towards-- you assumed-- the living room. You could hear James’ laughter coming from the area, and the sounds of a TV.

“James?” John called as you two entered the room. It was spacious, donned with a fireplace and a TV above it. The little boy turned his head, facing you and his father. A smile crossed his face upon seeing you and jogged over to where you two stood.

“Miss (Y/L/N)!” He exclaimed. You let out a little chuckle to his enthusiasm.

“James, you can call me (Y/N) when were not in class, how does that sound?” You spoke softly, placing a hand onto the boy’s shoulder. He nodded, still remaining cheerful. John’s hand found its way to the small of your back and rest there. You felt a blush cross your cheeks and glanced back at the man who donned a loving gleam in his eye. Upon further study, you noted another cut on his cheek, this time higher on the bone. This was the second time you've seen the man with some type of injury. John could sense you’d noticed the abrasion to his face, and cleared his throat, gearing to speak.

“I made dinner, shall we eat?” He’d already begun leading you and James towards the dining room. The table had already been set, and the food sat scattered across the surface in serving dishes. John pulled out your chair and you graciously thanked him as you sat. James eagerly climbed into the chair across from yours, and John sat at the head of the table. He wasn’t wearing a suit, surprisingly. He donned dark jeans with a white shirt and jacket atop. It was almost more sexy to see him dressed down.

“You made all this?’ You asked to confirm.

“I don’t mind cooking.” The man answered, tying his hair back into a bun to avoid getting it into his food. You bit your lip seeing his exposed neck and shook your head, clearing away the thoughts. John served the two of you, filling your plates full of food. You felt your baby kick excitedly and softly chuckled placing your hand over your belly. John’s free hand grabbed your own at the sound, his eyes fixated lovingly on you.

The three of you ate dinner comfortably chatting about school, John’s job, random things James would babble on about. It was lovely to feel apart of a family again. You’ve been so lonely since your husband’s passing, and John brought so much of that familiarity back. You haven’t even kissed yet. You didn't care though, opportunities take time.

After dinner, you and James settled on the living room couch as John put on a movie. You watched as the man pulled it from the shelf, and noting how it was a VHS tape.

“John, is that a VHS...?” You trailed off, feeling laughter bubble up as the man held it up for you to see. The object looked worn, lovingly though. That tape alone is probably thirty years old.

“Yes, it is.” He spoke, raising his brows at your amusement.

“I haven’t seen one of those since 1997.” You giggled, biting your lip at him. He smiled and shook his head, sliding the tape into the player. He clicked the rewind button causing the machine to begin a loud whirr sound. While John was fiddling with the VHS, James politely asked if you could get a cup of juice for him. You nodded, standing up with a little extra effort, and padded towards the kitchen. Your eyes searched the cupboards, curious as to which one actually held the cups. Goodness, Johns home was elaborate. All of this from a book binding job. You never would've thought. It seemed somewhat suspicious, however. Of course if the relationship persisted, you'd really need to find out what was going on. The mans mysterious wounds didn't help the fact.

“Third to the left.” John’s voice caused you to jump, and turn to face him. He stood in the entryway, leaning against the doorframe. His arms were folded, causing his biceps to be more defined. You caught yourself staring at his muscular arms and blushed, quickly gathering a cup from the instructions he’d given you.

“You scared me,” You hummed, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of orange juice. You heard his footsteps get closer to your figure, followed by his hands wrapping themselves around your waist from behind. John’s full body was pressed against your back. Butterflies soared through your tummy and goosebumps formed where he touched you.

“I didn’t mean to.” His voice was low, near your right ear. He kissed the top of your head and you set the juice down, turning to face him. Your belly pushed the two of you apart slightly, causing both of you to chuckle, as you quietly apologized. John put his hands onto your waist, pulling you as close as you could manage. You looked up, forgetting how tall he was compared to you, and met his eyes staring back with adoration plastered across his face.

“I guess I can forgive you.” You smirked, placing your hands atop your bump. You and John kept eye contact before he broke it, glancing down to your lips. You felt yourself slowly standing on your tippy-toes and your hands moved up to rest on his chest. John’s lips connected with your own, and you inhaled softly at the sensation.

“Wow.” You murmured, breaking apart. John smiled softly, his hand creeping up to the side of your cheek and pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. His other hand creeped and rest on the side of your belly. You felt as the baby kicked in the spot John rest his hand.

“Did… Move?” He asked, not forming a full sentence with his eyes widening. You nodded, adjusting his hand to where she was really active. You watched the emotions range across his face, a little smile crossing yours. Had John not experienced James’ mother's pregnancy? It hurt your heart to consider his past: what type of woman abandons her son? You love James, and honestly have since before meeting John; the man was just an added bonus. The thought of him not growing up with a mother caused a tightness to form within your chest.

“Can I ask you something?” You murmured, hearing the movie roar to life in the living room. That meant James wouldn't cause a distraction; though you still needed to give him his juice. John nodded, quietly removing his hands from your belly.

“How old was James when you two met?” Your voice was soft as you spoke.

“A couple weeks, why?” He responded.

“You've… you've just seemed so enamored with my pregnancy and… not that there's anything wrong with that- in fact, I’m kind of enjoying it too.” You trailed on, before shaking your head to gather your thoughts correctly. “I guess it just makes me sad you didn't get to experience the whole… waiting period. The doctors appointments, clothes shopping, putting the nursery together...”

“What are you trying to say?” John asked softly, stepping closer to your figure.

“I have a doctors appointment on the Eleventh, just a 7 month check-up,” You grabbed John’s hand, intertwining your fingers, “Would you like to come?” The man went silent for a moment, and you began to regret the question. Was it too soon? Did you overstep the boundaries? Maybe he doesn't really want the responsibility.

“I’d love to. I’ll just have to arrange my schedule.” John's voice was gentle. The anxiety that had claimed your veins vanished and you stood on your tippy-toes initiating a kiss. His large hands wrapped around your figure, as best they could.

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

November 11th

Your hands rest on your pregnant belly as you sat in the waiting room. Some random song from the 2000’s played over the speaker system as quiet murmurs from the people around you filled the spare silence. You didn't like hospitals, and had good reason not too. That was part of the reason you invited John to tag along. He hadn't arrived yet-- as you agreed to drive separate due to work conflicts-- but you at least expected him to be somewhat early.

A quiet sigh escaped your lips as the doors opened, however another couple walked in. Couples. That's all who was surrounding you currently. Your eyes glanced around the room, quietly observing the life around. There was a man and woman one seat to your left, giggling over something on a phone. Across the room sat two women lovingly holding hands and rubbing the pregnant belly of the other. Next to them were another man and woman, however she looked not as far along. There were a few others, but you didn't bother looking at them. Seeing them all so gleeful made you realize how lonely you must look, sitting by yourself. Granted, you've been to all your appointments alone, however now that you've got John it almost hurts more. Where is he?

The room smelt like a sterilized hospital. You weren't fond of the aroma that coated medical centers. Your history with hospitals hasn't always been great; your husband's passing is a cruel reminder of that. The scent triggered memories you didn't like to recall.

-- 6 and a half months earlier --

You pushed the heavy emergency room doors open, breathing rapidly. The beat of your heart was hard and unregulated as you ran to the receptionist. Time seemed slowed as the woman calmly directed you towards your destination. You pushed passed groups of people in the lobby, making your way to the floor and room the receptionist had given.

You shoved the door open before entering the hospital room. A doctor stood over the figure lying on the bed, clipboard in hand. Your eyes filled with tears as you approached the bed, your lifeless husband under the sheet.

“It was unexpected, Mrs. Austin. He collapsed at work, there was nothing anyone could've done.” The doctor's voice was trying to show remorse, but you know the woman didn't actually care.

“Miss (Y/L/N), we’re ready for you.” A small woman dressed in scrubs caught your attention, breaking you away from the memory. Right. You nearly forgot you’d changed your last name after his passing. It hurt too much, so your therapist recommended you change back to your maiden name. You nodded towards the nurse and used the chairs armrests to help you stand.

“How're you today, hun?” She asked, throwing a smile in your direction while opening a door to the exam rooms. She donned colorful scrubs, the top being some type of pink and purple design while the bottoms were a solid baby pink.

“I've been better.” You answered, following the short woman into one of the rooms. She gestured for you to sit onto the exam table before quickly washing her hands in the rooms sink.

“What’s got you down?” She asked, drying her hands and sliding on a pair of latex gloves. You climbed onto the table, looking around the bleak, cheaply decorated room.

“Oh- it’s- it’s stupid really.” You stuttered, waving your hand in dismissal, but the nurse gave you a raised brow look. She grabbed a blood pressure arm wrap off the wall and paced over to you.

“If it’s stupid, you wouldn't have reacted like that.” She murmured, wrapping the device around your arm.

“Okay, well my-” What the hell do you call John? “My boyfriend is supposed to be here, but he’s obviously late.” John's most definitely not your significant other-- at least you haven't had the conversation yet. You've only been on one date and a handful of hangouts. He felt like your boyfriend, you weren't gonna lie, but he isn't.

“Men.” The nurse scoffed, rolling her eyes. You chuckled at her comment. The two of you fell into silence as she took your blood pressure. You studied her face, noting the age added to it; guessing she was in her late fifties. She wore her hair back in a messy low bun and had a few grays scattered throughout.

“Sorry, I just realized I didn't catch your name.” You spoke up as she was getting ready to take your temperature.

“It’s Connie.” She smiled warmly.

“How long have you been a nurse?” You then asked as Connie had you stand up to gather your weight. She led you over to the scale, having you take off your shoes first.

“Thirty- three years. Everyday I experience something new.” The woman answered, writing down your weight and guiding you back to the exam table. She then used her stethoscope to gather the rhythm of your heartbeat. You two fell back into silence as she finished taking your vitals. You didn't know what it was, but she made you feel a little better. Sure, John didn't show, but there was nothing you could do. You still had the ultrasound anyways, maybe he’ll arrive then.

“Alright honey, you are healthy. We’ll get you over to the ultrasound room in just a couple minutes.” Connie spoke, wrapping her stethoscope back around her neck. You thanked her softly and she gave you a reassuring smile as she exited the room. A quiet sigh left your lips as you rubbed your belly, feeling the baby kick.

“Just you and me, kid.” You murmured as the sensation of her foot hitting your hand occurred.

You only waited for about two minutes before a knock sounded at the door and a figure walked in. Your eyes looked up to greet those of John. He looked a little rough around the edges. His usually gelled hair was out of place, his suit seemed disheveled and there was an obvious cut across the bridge of his nose.

“Hi,” He murmured, quietly closing the door.

“Are you okay? What the hell happened?” You immediately asked, sliding off the exam table and waddling over to his person. You reached your hands up, moving his face via his chin and assessing the gash across his nose.

“I’m fine.” The man responded, dismissing your question. “I’m sorry I’m late.” Your eyes studied his own with doubt sprinkled into the mix, but you shook your head, turning back around and sitting onto the exam table.

“It’s okay. I haven't gotten the ultrasound yet.” You responded, sitting down with a sigh. John nodded, sitting in the guest chair. His long body was slightly too large, having to stretch his legs. Even though you were upset, you couldn't stay mad for too long. Whatever the reason he was late must've been serious, and you honestly didn't feel like getting into it. You just wanted to go to the ultrasound and see the baby. John’s chair was close enough to the exam table that he placed his hand on your knee, thumb rubbing the area. You placed your hand over his own, causing the man to look up at you.

“I-I’m not mad.” You spoke, voice soft. “It’s just slightly alarming when you're late and arrive with wounds. How do you get so many? This isn't the first time I've seen your face cut, John. It’s worrying me.” You didn't mean for it to sound like such a lecture, as though you were scolding a student, but it did. John even slunk into his chair, the feeling of shame floating through his veins. The man didn't speak for a few moments, contemplating in his head whether to tell the truth or not.

John’s career isn't exactly conventional, he’s never told anyone about it before; save for James’ mother, who also was in the profession. He wanted to tell you, so badly. Lying to your face about most of his life always stung. He wishes he could tell you about the fact he’s an extremely skilled assassin with a large reputation under his belt. He wishes he could explain the cuts and bruises that litter his body on occasion, and why he has to leave for days at a time. But he can't. He doesn't have the courage to tell you and lose you.

Another knock interrupted the silence that had taken over the room as Connie walked in.

“Miss (Y/L/N), Mr. (Y/L/N). We’re ready for you in the ultrasound room.” The woman greeted, a smile across her cheeks. You looked over to John, quizzical as to why she referred to him with your last name, a question you’ll need to find the answer to later. John helped you stand up from the exam table, keeping his hand on your back as you began your walk to the other room. Connie opened a door to a darkened room and gestured for you to enter. You thanked her, walking into the space. You climbed onto the chair while John stood by, helping you sit comfortably.

“How are you today Miss (Y/L/N)? I’m Nora, i'll be doing your ultrasound today.” The doctor walked into the room, a wide smile on her face. She was younger than Connie, probably late thirties.

“I’m good, thanks.” You responded, gearing to pull your shirt up. Nora gathered a small tray of items, then rolled it over to the chair she was going to sit in. John’s hand wrapped around your own, giving it a gentle squeeze. You looked up at him, feeling bad for lashing out earlier. His eyes were filled with adoration, a small grin across his face. You'd nearly forgotten this was his first ultrasound.

“Alright, lift your shirt slightly higher, the gel is going to be cold.” The woman spoke, pulling on a pair of gloves. She switched on the machine, grabbing the gel from her tray. Her hand hovered over your bare belly and you flinched as soon as she poured the goo.

“Never get used to that.” You chuckled, watching as she used the machine to find the baby. John’s hand squeezed tighter as the heartbeat sounded over the little speaker.

“There's her heartbeat.” Nora murmured, finding the spot on your belly where you could make out her body and head. “And here is her head, her arm is poking here, and there's a leg and foot.”

“She's getting so big.” You spoke, sadness lacing your tone. John leaned down, kissing your forehead. He felt his heart swell at the sound echoing in the room.

“Yes, but she is healthy and happy. Has she been active?” The doctor asked, moving so you could see a different angle.

“God, yes. She’s always moving.” You answered with a laugh, glancing up to John whose eyes were fixed on the screen. His hand was still laced with your own, holding it tightly.

“Would you like pictures?” Nora then asked, removing the device she held from your belly and placing it onto the tray. You nodded as a response and the doctor was quick to type a few things into the machine before giving you a roll of paper towels to clean your tummy off. She then exit the room to go grab the printout of the ultrasound.

“Hey, why did she call you by my last name?” You asked John, throwing away the dirty paper towels and pulling your shirt down.

“I had to lie about us being married so they'd let me back.” John responded, watching as your cheeks tinted pink and a silent ‘Oh.’ left your lips. He padded towards you and pulled you into his chest as close as he could, due to the bump.

“I'm sorry I was late.” The man spoke softly. He gently kissed your forehead afterwords.

“It’s okay. You made it to the important part.” You responded, looking up at him. The cut across the bridge of nose still stood out, and you also noticed a little bruise on his cheekbone. You didn't see that when you first saw him. John leaned down, catching your lips against his own. You sighed dreamily into the kiss, running your hands up his chest and to the nape of his neck. He smiled into the kiss, however the moment was lost when Nora knocked on the door and stepped in.

“Here are the photos,” She began, handing you over an envelope, “And we’ll see you next time Miss (Y/L/N).”

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

You shivered when the cool autumn air hit as soon as you stepped out of the hospital. John’s hand found its way to your lower back as he began to follow you towards your car. His large figure towered over your own as you waddled beside him, hand resting firmly on your bump. You approached the vehicle and unlocked it, John standing closely behind you. Before you climbed in you grabbed the envelope from your purse, gently sliding out one of the ultrasound pictures and placing it into John’s hand.

“Thank you for coming.” You spoke softly. John held the photo up so he could see, a smile growing across his face.

“I should be thanking you for allowing me to.” He responded, opening his wallet and sliding the picture in, followed by kissing your forehead. You let out a soft giggle, one of your hands gently grasping his chin. You guided his head to greet yours, lips touching ever so gracefully. His free hand placed itself on your waist, fingers gripping onto your shirt.

“I’ll be leaving again.” John whispered softly, breaking the kiss. You felt your heart squeeze at his comment.

“How long?” You asked, trying not to let the sadness of your person be evident. The man still caught onto your shift in tone, a slight frown covering his features.

“Four days. I’ll be home early Saturday morning.” He responded, voice soft. You nodded, looking down at your belly. The silence that covered the air caused a chill to run up your spine, knowing the man was staring down at you. You quietly let out a breath, rubbing the top of your bump.

“Okay, well, we’ll be waiting patiently for your return.” You then spoke, looking back up. His eyes softened, realizing you were talking about the baby too. He gave you one more, heavenly kiss. His hand gripped your waist tightly, the other at the nape of your neck. His lips dominated your own in such a pleasing way, you'd need to take a cold shower later. The man ended up breaking the kiss. His eyes scanned you over; causing you to drown in his brown eyed haze. You bit your lip feeling a shyness wash over your person, and you swiftly turned to get into your car.

“(Y/N)?” The man asked, his hand wrapped around your arm to stop you.

“Yes?” You answered, turning back around.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” His voice was deep, and so softly spoken; you could listen to him speak for hours.

“I thought you'd never ask.” A smile overtook your cheeks as you squeaked from joy. John wrapped you in his arms, bringing you in for another kiss.

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

November 16th

Sirens echoed throughout the silenced streets. You groaned, adjusting your pregnancy pillow after being awoken by the noise and peeled your eyes open. Save for the city lights that shone in, the room was room was mostly pitch black. A sigh escaped your lips as you searched for your phone amongst the sheets. Your hand wrapped around the device, and you pulled it from under the blankets, your eyes greeting the screen. Blinking, you adjusted to the brightness and looked at the time. 5:32 AM.

“Great.” You huffed, laying the phone back down. Looks like you weren’t getting much sleep tonight. It’d already taken you two hours to fall asleep, and that was only three hours ago, 2AM. You looked at your phone again, unlocking it and opening up messages. You met the conversation you had with John earlier; he was at an airport\, while you were trying to go to bed. He’d left on another work trip on Tuesday; now it’s Saturday. Luckily, he was coming home today, but not for another hour.

John - 2:17AM: Shouldn’t you be asleep, little one?

You - 2:18AM: I can't sleep :(

John - 2:20AM: Why is that?

You - 2:23AM: Baby is sitting on an organ. And I miss you.

John - 2:24AM: I miss you too. Only 4 hours and I’ll be home.

You - 2:27AM: James can't contain his excitement for your arrival. He’s been counting down the days.

John - 2:28AM: I want to see you before we go to see James. It’ll be in four hours.

You - 2:30AM: That’s okay. I’m excited. I’ll probably be awake, but if not, the spare is under the rug.

John hadn’t replied after that, only leaving you to assume he’d boarded the flight. You fell asleep shortly after you’d sent the last text anyways.

Another siren roaring down the street caught your focus and you sighed, climbing out of bed. The cool air of the apartment caused a shiver to crawl down your spine and you swiftly grabbed a robe you’d tossed over the hamper. You then exited the bedroom, making way to the kitchen. You flipped on the light, grabbing decaf from the cupboard and beginning a brew. As the aroma of coffee filled your little apartment, you walked to the windows, opening the curtains to the still dark morning sky.

A sigh fell past your lips as you cast your eyes to the framed photo of your ex-husband. You subconsciously rubbed the side of you belly while picking it up, feeling the baby kick. The smile on his face caused an ache to form deep in your chest, and you furrowed your brows from the pain. Maybe you weren’t as moved on as you thought. It was difficult, however much you tried. His family, the Austin’s, still wanted to meet their newest family member. Your ex-mother-in-law demanded you give the baby the Austin last name, but you protested. To be honest, you wanted to move on from that part of your life, and she was always mean to you anyways. Not that that was the main reason, no, it was simply too painful to be keeping the memory of him around. You couldn’t even speak his name.

Swiftly placing the photo back, face down, you made your way to the kitchen. The coffee maker steamed and hissed, filling the pot as best it could. You grabbed a mug, followed by pouring just enough creamer to satisfy before taking the pot from it’s dock and pouring the fresh coffee. You glanced at the clock, reading 6:03.

The jingle of a key caught your attention, causing you to flip around and witness as John entered your apartment, spare in hand.

“John!” You exclaimed from excitement, making your way over to him. He dropped his bags, bringing you into a tight embrace. Your belly bumped his person, but he didn't mind, he was content having you back into his arms.

“I've missed you.” The man spoke, voice low. He used his fingers to pull your chin so your faces aligned and kissed you with such hunger; his beard scratched slightly. A deep sigh of content left your lips as the kiss broke and a lazy smile crossed your face.

“I missed you too.” You spoke softly, running your fingers through his raven locks; tucking what you could behind his ear. His dark eyes searched your own and you felt a blush crawl up your cheek. He leaned down kissing you once again, before breaking away and gathering his bags. You went back into the kitchen, quickly fixing John a new pot of coffee. As you poured in fresh water, his arms wrapped around you from behind, and his head rest against your own. You could tell he was exhausted, probably from the long flight. There wasn’t enough time to go back to sleep before he promised the Nanny he’d return and release her from work.

“Would you like some coffee?” You murmured softly, watching the machine pour the liquid into the pot. The man nodded, too lazy to verbally respond. You directed him towards the couch, sitting his figure down and placing a pillow into his lap. You then grabbed his suitcases, rolling them over by the couch.

“Do you want to change from that suit?” You murmured. John made eye contact, a lazy nod as his answer. You gave him a short nod before returning to the kitchen. Though you were in a separate room, there was still a view from the kitchen into the living room. Meaning, you could see as John began to change. The room was still dim as the sun hasn't risen yet, but your lamps illuminated just enough so your eyes could make out Johns figure as he stripped down to his boxers. You studied his torso, eyes widening at the bruises that covered his flesh. You also met the sight of his tattoos just before he slipped a white t-shirt over the exposed skin. Blinking, a blush crawled your cheeks and you turned around, pouring John’s coffee into a mug to avoid staring.

You thought back to the bruises, concern coursing through your veins. How could a book binder have such painful bruises? And leave on trips one to three times in a month? You didn't want to admit it, but a suspicion that John was lying about a large aspect of his career was starting to feel true.

Without another thought, you brought him the mug, placing it on the side table next to the couch. He thanked you, taking a sip of the hot liquid.

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

November 28th - Thanksgiving

The radio played a holiday tune while you worked on basting the turkey. James sat quietly across the bar from you, coloring in a ‘First Thanksgiving’ drawing you’d printed out for him. John wasn’t currently home, as he was out on a mission to purchase pie filling before the stores closed. It was Thanksgiving today, the first one you didn’t dread attending, as it was going to be only you, James and John. John brought up the idea a few weeks ago, mentioning how he’d like to have a real family dinner, for James. It made your heart swell, the man mentioning it as family dinner.

So, here you were making dinner for the three of you. Your family was upset that you had decided not to go home, but you claimed you didn’t want to fly at nearly eight months pregnant. You hadn’t told your family about John yet. Your parents loved your ex-husband, and the thought of you moving on already would make them throw a hissy fit.

“(Y/N)? Can you get me juice?” James’ sweet voice broke you from your thoughts and you nodded at the boy.

“Sure, honey.” You smiled, setting down the basting tool, and opening up the fridge. The absence of the juice became evident and you sighed, turning around to deliver the bad news.

“It looks like we’re out.” You spoke, closing the fridge. James furrowed his brows before perking up again, an eager smile crossing his cheeks.

“Dad has the old fridge downstairs! He keeps more juice down there.” The boy spoke eagerly. You chuckled at his enthusiasm and nodded, shucking off the apron you’d put on before you began cooking. The size of your bump has started to get in the way, causing many spills to happen. So, you purchased the apron to save your clothing.

“Okay, sweetie. I’ll be right back.” You answered, ruffling the boys hair. You exited the kitchen, making your way to the closed door that led to the basement. You felt slightly nervous, as John seemed quite private regarding the basement. In fact, you remember an instance where James wanted some type of drink and John refused to let you go downstairs to get it. His reasoning was the fact you’re heavily pregnant, but your suspicion of John’s lies provided there was another reason.

Twisting the handle you opened the door to a dark staircase, leading to a blackened room. You swallowed, flipping on the lightswitch and grabbing the banister as you made your way down. The first item you saw was a desk covered in tools used for book binding, you assumed at least. The desk was neatly organized, not even dust was out of place. Yours eyes scanned the space, seeing an old armoire next to the desk. You slowly opened one of the cabinet drawers, eyes greeting the sight of three black suits hanging neatly. Furrowing your brows, you snooped more, opening a few other compartments of the wardrobe.

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes greeting the sight of three pistols laid out neatly within a drawer. Your mind raced to the image of John’s bruised body, and the numerous cuts you’ve seen litter his face. There were few other things littered within the drawer, besides the guns. One was a photo. You picked it up first, examining the item. It appeared to be a photo of John and another woman. You felt your heart pull at the sight, but you kept studying the image. He was kissing her cheek as she smiled gleefully towards the camera. The physical condition of the photo wasn’t great, it was worn on the corners and had a few fold creases. There was even a few small stains that resembled brown dots scattered across it. Was that dried blood? You shook your head, placing the photo back into the drawer before grabbing another item.

The heaviness of the necklace you grabbed next took you by surprise. A beaded chain with a large cross at the bottom was all the jewelry had to offer. You studied the cross, noting how it lacked actual gems in the design, though there were holes for small stones. It was worn, like the photo, but remained intact. Why would John have this? He’s made no mention of religion before, nor even implied he was active in a church. It wasn’t anything special, but it must be related to the other items in the drawer.

You placed it back down, grabbing the last remaining thing from the drawer. It resembles that of a watch, a pocket watch; the one’s where you pressed a button and the cover opened to reveal the clock. You studied the outside of it, noting how it had a foreign language across the edge and an intricate design. It was a faded golden color, a few dirt stains covering the metal. You bit your lip, pressing the little button. The small device popped open, and you gasped as it took you by surprise. Inside, there wasn’t a watch, but a bloody thumbprint. Your eyes widened, and you swallowed heavily. Who are you, John Wick?

Suddenly the garage door sounded overhead. Heart racing, you quickly shoved all the compartments closed, slipping the small fake-watch into your pocket. You then waddled over to the fridge in the corner, opening it and spotting an extra jug of apple juice. Grabbing it, you hustled up the stairs, hoping to beat John into the kitchen.

“...Where is (Y/N)?” You heard John speak just as you opened the basement door. His eyes caught the movement and you blushed sheepishly, closing the door with the apple juice in hand. You could feel John’s stares coating your person as you waddled over to the two of them.

“James wanted juice.” You spoke softly, eyes glancing between the boy and John. You placed the jug onto the countertop and James’ eager self grabbed his empty cup shoving it in the direction of his father, silently asking him to pour the juice. John removed his eyes from you and opened the juice for his son, filling the cup with it. You placed your hand into your pocket, feeling the cool metal of the… thing. You weren’t quite sure what it is, and as to why there's a bloody thumbprint inside of it. It was scary. You thought you knew your boyfriend, but this? This was curious.

You watched John put away some of the groceries he’d gotten while you put your apron back on. His handsome figure caused an ache to form in your lower abdomen, but you didn’t have time to be horny. You needed to know who this man is. Was he some type of mafia boss? You know those guys are prevalent in New York. Oh my god, (Y/N). You’re dating a mafia boss. Wait. No. That’s dumb. Was he a dirty businessman? Does he do shady shit? You shook your head, letting out a huff of amusement from your stupid thoughts. You stepped in front of the turkey, continuing on with basting.

“Can I go watch cartoons?” James asked, setting down some crayons in his grasp. You looked at his drawing and noticed how he’d finished coloring it in. Sure, the people were colored variants of blue and green, but he completed it.

“Sure, baby.” You answered without thought. After the boy had scurried off, only you and John remained in the kitchen. It was silent, save for the radio that still played Christmas music. You could feel John was a little tense, and it was probably due to you going to the basement.

“You know how I feel about you going down there.” John spoke up after a few moments. He’d begun to gather the items needed to begin the mashed potatoes.

“Your son wanted a drink.” You merely answered, however the guilt of taking the device was beginning to eat at you. You subconsciously placed your hand over your pocket, and John’s eyes caught the movement.

“What’s in your pocket?” His voice was low, causing your heart rate to pick up speed. You grasped the item in your hand tightly, anxiety coursing its way through your veins. You swallowed thickly, looking at John. His stare was heavy, eyes dark. It caused a slight stir in your abdomen from the tension. You bit your lip, keeping eye contact before pulling the item from your pocket. You twirled it in your hand before you held the metal piece up so that the man could see it.

“Who are you.” Your voice was low, asking the question in the form of a statement. John grabbed the device from your hand, slowly, as though he didn’t want to scare you. You studied his face as he stared down, avoiding eye contact. A quiet sigh escaped his lips as he looked back up at you, sadness evident. You felt your heart soften at his expression, your guard lowering slightly.

“I didn’t want for you to find out this way.” He murmured, staying quiet as to not alarm James. Your heart felt pained and you took a deep breath.

“Who are you, John?” You repeated, voice softer. The man sighed, placing the item down onto the counter and gestured for you to sit onto one of the barstools. You quietly thanked him, sitting on the chair. You watched as his eyes stared at your belly while you rubbed it. Over the time you’ve dated, he’s become really fond of your daughter. He loves to feel her kick, or any movements she does really. He’s also kept her ultrasound picture in his wallet ever since you gave it to him. When he goes out of town, he uses that photo as a way to calm down. That and alcohol.

“I’m an assassin. I receive contracts to kill people, bad people only.” John spoke so quietly, you barely heard. You know he’s trying to remain quiet incase James could hear. You felt your heart rate pick up, the dots beginning to connect. The cuts, the bruises, the occasional small blood splatter across his collar. The guns in the drawer downstairs, the mysterious items as well. John is an assassin; a man who is paid to kill people. You studied his figure; his strong muscles capable of inflicting pain, large callused hands which have been covered with human blood many times, strong, intimidating face with dark eyes. A chill ran down your spine as you made eye contact.

“Does James know?” You then asked, not allowing his stare to intimidate. John shuffled on his feet, almost as though he was a scolded schoolboy.

“No. He doesn't, and I'd prefer to keep it that way. At least until he's older.” He answered after a few moments. You nodded, respecting his wishes. Besides, telling James, whose six years old, that his father kills people will definitely scar the boy.

“What is that thing?” You then questioned, gesturing towards the fake watch in John's hand. He looked down at it, a deep sigh escaping his throat.

“It’s called a Marker. It’s a ‘You owe me, no questions asked’ sealed with their blood..” He answered, popping the device open. He held it so you could see the thumbprint once again.

“And the woman in the photo, who is she?” You spoke up, mind replaying the image of the mysterious lady. John seemed genuinely happy in the image, it almost hurt that it wasn't you being the reason behind his joy. A little off your rocker, sure; However, you're almost eight months pregnant and can blame everything on your hormones. The man shut the marker, sliding it into his pocket. He glanced at the walkway that connected the living room to the kitchen, knowing his son was close to earshot. You gestured for you to stand, and you obeyed, sliding off the bar stool and regaining balance using the counter top.

John grabbed your hand, snagging a cardigan you’d left on a table chair, before leading you towards the sliding doors that led to the patio. He quickly slid them open, tugging you outside before closing them again. You shivered, instantly triggering John to hand you the article. Thanking him softly, you slid the warmth over your chilly arms before looking up again. You found the man staring out into the yard, a lost look donning his face. You followed his gaze, not meeting the sight of anything but the hedges that sculpted the backyard..

“Baby?” You questioned, softening your guard and touching your cold hand to his bicep. He blinked at the sensation, pulling him out of his trance.

“Her name was Helen. She is-” He paused, looking down at you,”She was James’ mother.” A quiet ‘Oh.’ Left your lips and you wrapped your arms around his strong one, attempting to comfort him. You gently rubbed his lower back, a trick you used to use with your ex-husband to ease his anxiety.

“Why do you say ‘was’?” You spoke after a few moments. Was she deceased now? John scoffed, shaking his head. Genuine emotion gathered in the creases of his eyes as he looked down at his feet.

“She gave birth to him in a hotel room in France, not bothering to go to a hospital. He didn't have a birth certificate or social security number. When she showed up with him, she hadn't even given him a name.” He paused with a sigh, “After she left, I finally took him and got him recognized as a citizen. That makes me his sole guardian.”

“How did you not know she was… expecting?” Curiosity filled your veins. You’ve been dating for a few months, you barely knew John. It felt good, minus the circumstances of the conversation, to really see him feel.

“We had a fight about… the business; our careers. She stormed out and never returned- Until James.” He spoke lowly. You wrapped your arms around his core, pulling him in for the tightest hug you could manage. He slowly mimicked your actions, too wrapping his arms around your body. You two hugged in the cold for a few more seconds before you shivered.

“I know this is cheesy of me to say, but... You have me now. I’m not going to abandon you. You’re stuck with me, bub.” You said lightly, slowly inching towards the sliding door. John broke and chuckled from your comment, shaking his head. You smiled, opening the door and entering back into the warm house. Shivers ran down your spine as you pulled the cardigan tighter around your figure. John closed the door and came up behind you, kissing the top of your head.

“Thank you, (Y/N).” He spoke, gaining your attention and leaned down to kiss you. You accepted, enjoying the minor beard burn that came when kissing him. He broke the kiss with a smile, and stepped back.

“You’re welcome, baby. Now I need your strong muscles to lift this fat turkey into the oven.” You spoke, handing John a pair of minnie mouse themed oven mitts.

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papermoonloveslucy · 4 years ago

Text

SPEECH FOR CIVIC ORGANIZATION

February 4, 1949

“Speech for Civic Organization” (aka “Liz Debates Alaska in Town Forum”) is episode #29 of the radio series MY FAVORITE HUSBAND broadcast on February 4, 1949 on the CBS radio network.

Synopsis ~ Liz, anxious to win the approval of an important dinner guest, simply agrees with everything he says. The guest is so impressed with her intelligence that he invites her to be a speaker at his next civic forum.

“My Favorite Husband” was based on the novels Mr. and Mrs. Cugat, the Record of a Happy Marriage (1940) and Outside Eden (1945) by Isabel Scott Rorick, which had previously been adapted into the film Are Husbands Necessary? (1942). “My Favorite Husband” was first broadcast as a one-time special on July 5, 1948. Lucille Ball and Lee Bowman played the characters of Liz and George Cugat, and a positive response to this broadcast convinced CBS to launch “My Favorite Husband” as a series. Bowman was not available Richard Denning was cast as George. On January 7, 1949, confusion with bandleader Xavier Cugat prompted a name change to Cooper. On this same episode Jell-O became its sponsor. A total of 124 episodes of the program aired from July 23, 1948 through March 31, 1951. After about ten episodes had been written, writers Fox and Davenport departed and three new writers took over – Bob Carroll, Jr., Madelyn Pugh, and head writer/producer Jess Oppenheimer. In March 1949 Gale Gordon took over the existing role of George’s boss, Rudolph Atterbury, and Bea Benadaret was added as his wife, Iris. CBS brought “My Favorite Husband” to television in 1953, starring Joan Caulfield and Barry Nelson as Liz and George Cooper. The television version ran two-and-a-half seasons, from September 1953 through December 1955, running concurrently with “I Love Lucy.” It was produced live at CBS Television City for most of its run, until switching to film for a truncated third season filmed (ironically) at Desilu and recasting Liz Cooper with Vanessa Brown.

REGULAR CAST

Lucille Ball (Liz Cooper) was born on August 6, 1911 in Jamestown, New York. She began her screen career in 1933 and was known in Hollywood as ‘Queen of the B’s’ due to her many appearances in ‘B’ movies. With Richard Denning, she starred in a radio program titled “My Favorite Husband” which eventually led to the creation of “I Love Lucy,” a television situation comedy in which she co-starred with her real-life husband, Latin bandleader Desi Arnaz. The program was phenomenally successful, allowing the couple to purchase what was once RKO Studios, re-naming it Desilu. When the show ended in 1960 (in an hour-long format known as “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour”) so did Lucy and Desi’s marriage. In 1962, hoping to keep Desilu financially solvent, Lucy returned to the sitcom format with “The Lucy Show,” which lasted six seasons. She followed that with a similar sitcom “Here’s Lucy” co-starring with her real-life children, Lucie and Desi Jr., as well as Gale Gordon, who had joined the cast of “The Lucy Show” during season two. Before her death in 1989, Lucy made one more attempt at a sitcom with “Life With Lucy,” also with Gordon.

Richard Denning (George Cooper) was born as Louis Albert Heindrich Denninger Jr., in Poughkeepsie, New York. When he was 18 months old, his family moved to Los Angeles. Plans called for him to take over his father’s garment manufacturing business, but he developed an interest in acting. Denning enlisted in the US Navy during World War II. He is best known for his roles in various science fiction and horror films of the 1950s. Although he teamed with Lucille Ball on radio in “My Favorite Husband,” the two never acted together on screen. While “I Love Lucy” was on the air, he was seen on another CBS TV series, “Mr. & Mrs. North.” From 1968 to 1980 he played the Governor on “Hawaii 5-0″, his final role. He died in 1998 at age 84.

Ruth Perrott (Katie, the Maid) was also later seen on “I Love Lucy.” She first played Mrs. Pomerantz (above right), a member of the surprise investigating committee for the Society Matrons League in “Pioneer Women” (ILL S1;E25), as one of the member of the Wednesday Afternoon Fine Arts League in “Lucy and Ethel Buy the Same Dress” (ILL S3;E3), and also played a nurse when “Lucy Goes to the Hospital” (ILL S2;E16). She died in 1996 at the age of 96.

Bob LeMond (Announcer) also served as the announcer for the pilot episode of “I Love Lucy”. When the long-lost pilot was finally discovered in 1990, a few moments of the opening narration were damaged and lost, so LeMond – fifty years later – recreated the narration for the CBS special and subsequent DVD release.

Gale Gordon (Rudolph Atterbury) and Bea Benadaret (Iris Atterbury) had not yet joined the cast as regular characters.

GUEST CAST

Frank Nelson (Mr. Barton) was born on May 6, 1911 (three months before Lucille Ball) in Colorado Springs, Colorado. He started working as a radio announcer at the age of 15. He later appeared on such popular radio shows as “The Great Gildersleeve,” “Burns and Allen,” and “Fibber McGee & Molly”. This is one of his 11 performances on “My Favorite Husband.” On “I Love Lucy” he holds the distinction of being the only actor to play two recurring roles: Freddie Fillmore and Ralph Ramsey, as well as six one-off characters, including the frazzled train conductor in “The Great Train Robbery” (ILL S5;E5), a character he repeated on “The Lucy Show.” Aside from Lucille Ball, Nelson is perhaps most associated with Jack Benny and was a fifteen-year regular on his radio and television programs.

Steve Allen (Scott Campbell, Expert on Alaska) was a talk show and variety host as well as a published composer. Although he was seen with Lucille Ball on awards and quiz shows, their first time acting together on screen didn’t come until 1978′s “Lucy Calls The President”. In 1980, Ball appeared on the premiere of “The Steve Allen Comedy Hour”. He died in 2000 at age 78.

TRIVIA: Madelyn Pugh and Bob Carroll Jr. were writers for the Steve Allen radio show and left that job to write for “My Favorite Husband.” They paid Allen to write his own show one week so they could focus on creating a script submission for “My Favorite Husband.”

EPISODE

ANNOUNCER: “As we look in on the Coopers tonight, they’ve settled down for a quiet evening at home. Liz has discovered an intelligence quiz in a magazine, but she’s having George’s attention, because he is lost in a gripping, blood-curdling murder mystery.”

George is reading “The Mummy’s Tummy” but Liz spoils the ending to get his attention. George can’t seem to answer any of the IQ questions correctly.

Q: “What is the name for the chemical formula H2S04?”

A: Sulfuric Acid

Q: “What does it say on the lid of a United States mailbox?”

A: Pull Down

Q: “For what was Ma Ferguson noted?”

A: The first woman Governor of Texas

George decides to quiz Liz, asking her a few questions.

Q: “What is the poop deck of the ship?”

Liz’s Answer: “The deck where the sailor’s rest when they’re pooped.”

Real Answer: “A raised portion of the rear deck.”

Q: “Does sound travel faster or slower in water than it does in air?”

Liz’s Answer: “Next question.”

Q: “Chicle is the main ingredient in chewing gum. Where is the largest deposit found?”

Liz’s Answer: “Under theatre seats.”

Liz realizes that they aren’t very smart and should probably do something about it. Dr. Guilfoyle, author of the quiz, suggests that a score under 50 needs to be addressed.

Liz is going to send for his book “How To Improve Yourself.”

LIZ: “Look at the people who recommend this book: Truman and Goldwyn.” GEORGE: “Harry Truman and Sam Goldwyn?” LIZ: “No, Sam Truman and Harry Goldwyn!”

Harry Truman (1884-1972) was the 33rd president of the United States from 1945 to 1953, succeeding Franklin D. Roosevelt after his death. He implemented the Marshall Plan to rebuild the economy of Western Europe, and established the Truman Doctrine and NATO. Sam Goldwyn (1879 -1974) was a film producer best known as the founder of several motion picture studios in Hollywood.

A few days later, the book has arrived and Katie the Maid notices Liz is engrossed in it. Liz states that the Doctor has three rules to impress people:

Learn Ten New Words a Day

Be a Good Listener

Have One Subject Down Cold So You Can Steer The Conversation Around To It

Liz’s has already got her ten new words and has put them in a sentence.

LIZ: “By assiduous application, I have promulgated a plethora of altruistic ubiquity and lugubrious perspicacity.”

The telephone rings, it is George telling Liz he is bringing home an important person named Mr. Barton, to dinner.

LIZ: “How important is he, George? Sirloin, T-bone, meatloaf, or hash?” GEORGE: “Strictly sirloin.”

George explains that Mr. Barton is the one who picks the speakers for the open forums in town. George wants to get picked to be one of the first speakers so he can impress his boss, Mr. Atterbury, and possibly land a raise. George warns Liz to be herself and not try to impress him.

Liz decides to enact rule #3 and cracks open an encyclopedia to pick the subject. Much to her surprise, the subject she randomly picks is bees! Walking up to the house that evening, Mr. Barton (Frank Nelson) confides in George that he is looking forward to meeting a simple housewife, since in his line of work the women are always trying too hard to impress him with their intellect. George introduces Liz to Mr. Barton, who immediately notices that her vocabulary is amped up. Unfortunately, Liz is using the wrong words most of the time, saying ‘plethora’ for ‘pleasure’ and ‘diversify yourself’ for ‘divert yourself.’

George assures a nervous Mr. Barton that Liz is ‘just an old fashioned girl’.

MR. BARTON: “Sounds like she’s had too many Old- Fashioneds!”

An Old Fashioned is a cocktail made by mixing sugar with bitters and water, adding whiskey or brandy, and garnishing with orange zest and a cocktail cherry. It is traditionally served in a special glass called an Old Fashioned glass. A variation on this wordplay was used on “I Love Lucy” in “Million Dollar Idea” (ILL S3;E13) in 1954 when Lucy (disguised as an average housewife selected at random) describes the taste of Aunt Martha’s Old Fashioned Salad Dressing to deliberately encourage buyers to cancel.

LUCY: “Looks like Aunt Martha had too many Old-Fashioneds!”

In the kitchen, George tells Liz to stop using fancy words, so Liz moves on to rule #3 - her special subject: bees! She no sooner starts buzzing about bees when she is chided by George.

GEORGE (sternly aside): “Liz! Haven’t you forgotten? Mr. Barton’s forum!” LIZ: “Well, I’m for ‘em, too!”

Coincidentally, Lucille Ball was one of several actors known as ‘Queen of the ‘B’s’ - which referred to ‘B’ pictures - films that were done quickly, on a budget, with lesser-known actors. In 1963′s “Lucy’s Barbershop Quartet” (TLS S1;E19) Lucy suggests they sing about bees!

Mr. Barton tells George he is going to sponsor a Shakespearean Company, if they can convince the City Council to fund them.

LIZ: “To bee or not to bee!”

"To be, or not to be" is the opening of a soliloquy by Prince Hamlet in William Shakespeare's play Hamlet, Act 3, Scene 1. In the speech, Hamlet contemplates death and suicide. It is one of the most quoted phrases in all of literature. To Be or Not to Be is a also the title of a 1942 film starring Lucille Ball’s good friend Carole Lombard and Jack Benny, who later became her next door neighbor. The plot concerns a troupe of actors in Nazi-occupied Poland. The film was released one month after Lombard was killed in an airplane crash.

George drags Liz into the hall again, warning her to stop talking about bees! After telling him to “mind his own beeswax”, Liz reluctantly agrees just to listen attentively and agree with everything Mr. Barton says. This works so well, that Mr. Barton barely acknowledges George, but only talks to Liz! He is so impressed by Liz, he offers to have her on the panel of their very first forum on Saturday night! She instantly agrees!

Two days later she learns that the forum’s topic is “the effect of jet propulsion and supersonic flight on the future of aviation.” But Liz is un-phased. She has been preparing by buying a new dress, which she tells George has ‘a dive bomb neckline.’

George and Liz role play to prepare for the forum. Against George’s advice, Liz intends to talk about the Wright Brothers!

Orville and Wilbur Wright were inventors and pioneers of aviation. In 1903 the Wright brothers achieved the first powered, sustained and controlled airplane flight; they surpassed their own milestone two years later when they built and flew the first fully practical airplane.

At the meeting that night, Mr. Barton announces to the assembled crowd that their aviation expert, Colonel Davis, could not make it.

MR. BARTON: “He started her from Los Angeles, but he got slightly mixed up in a snowstorm and has just cabled us from Bombay, India.”

Bombay, India is the capital city of the Indian state of Maharashtra. It was formerly renamed Mumbai in 1995 to better reflect the city’s roots and cut ties with its British origins. Coincidentally, a few months after this broadcast, the 1942 film Bombay Clipper was re-released. Although the Lucy gang never traveled to Bombay, it was mentioned in 1955′s “The Hedda Hopper Story” (ILL S4;E21) when everyone was looking for Mrs. McGillicuddy.

RICKY (Into phone): “Do you have any flights numbered 930? You do? Where's it coming in from? Bombay?” LUCY: “Bombay?” RICKY: “Well knowing your mother... No, even she wouldn't fly from New York to Los Angeles by way of India.”

Instead, Mr. Barton announces that the guest speaker is a famous authority on Alaska, Mr. Scott Campbell (Steve Allen). Unfortunately, Liz knows nothing about Alaska - so she starts to talk about the Wright Brothers instead!

In 1949 Alaska was not yet one of the United States, but was a US territory. The statehood movement gained its first real momentum in 1946 and Alaska was officially proclaimed a state on January 3, 1959. To mark this event, Desilu created a special episode of “The Westinghouse Desilu Playhouse” in which the Ricardos and Mertzes travel to Nome to cash in on a land deal, although no actual filming was done in the 49th state.

In 1952’s “Lucy Gets Ricky on the Radio” (ILL S1;E32) Lucy presciently (but incorrectly) answers the question “What was the last state to be admitted to the union?” by saying Alaska. At the time, the correct answer to the question was Arizona, admitted on Valentine’s Day 1912.

MR. BARTON: “No! When are you going to get to Alaska?” LIZ: “Let me get the plane invented and I’ll fly up there!”

With nothing else to talk about, Liz starts to talk about bees, but Mr. Barton quickly cuts her off and turns the podium over to Mr. Campbell, who launches into a serious speech about the welfare of the children of Alaska. He suddenly turns to Liz and asks “Who is responsible for these children, Mrs. Cooper?”

LIZ: “You really want me to answer that? Wilbur and Orville Wright!”

In the bedtime tag, it is 4 o’clock in the morning and Liz is eating crackers in bed. Wrestling them away from her, George gets cracker crumbs all over the bed. A few seconds later, Liz is eating an apple! George takes it from her. He hears her eating a third time and goes to grab whatever it is away from her.

GEORGE: “Whoah! What was that!” LIZ: “A glass of cold milk. Goodnight, George.”

End of Episode

Bob LeMond reminds listeners that Lucille Ball will soon be seen in the Paramount Picture Sorrowful Jones.

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