#Sackson forever!

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A brand new Ripper Street Comic of the week - S8E25 - … because there’s never enough Sackson

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Aww… Sackson forever!

Vintage Sackson Saturday

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* PRIVATE REHOMING ASSISTANCE * Gorgeous Sackson is a purebred Sphynx cat in need of a loving forever home. He is desexed and microchipped, harness/lead trained, and has been raised in a loving family environment. Sackson is currently located in Sydney but is available for interstate adoption for the right home. If you'd like to know more about Sackson, please get in touch with Alexis at @biglovelittlelegs https://instagram.com/biglovelittlelegs #sphynx #sphynxcat #sphynxcatsofinstagram #sydney #nsw #brisbane #ipswich #goldcoast #sunshinecoast #toowoomba #qld #queensland #catsofbrisbane #catsofinstagram (at Sydney, Australia) https://www.instagram.com/p/B0Kbdl7pfer/?igshid=1korf0ubsy7iw

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Sackson forever!!! 💞💕❤️‍🔥

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Sorry! Again some sweet, sweet Sackson fluff ... because ... It must out off my mind, it’s Sackson and I need it!

Chicago, autumn 1900

Leaves were falling, were blown away by the wind; and the sun gave the last power for this beautiful autumn day.

Connor Judge walked up and down, stopped from time to time, frowned and shook his head.

This was the adequate behaviour for one who was impatiently waiting.

He knew that from his father. He had done the same at the time when the baby was delivered.

Connor also knew that one must rush into the room of happening at a certain point, but he had no idea when it was the right time to do this.

He sighed and glanced to his mother. "Mama, this waiting makes me weak. I need another biscuit to strengthen me", he said in a serious tone.

Susan, sitting on a bench, the second child on her lap, nodded as permission for her son.

Connor didn't hesitate. He went to the carriage beside the bench, rummage in the bag that was mounted on and finally found a biscuit. It was the last one. He put it out of the bag in the most discrete way, but he wasn't lucky. The toddler realised the treasure of her brother and started grabbing after it.

Connor turned around. "It's mine!" he said. "It's not for babies." The girl turned up her mouth, the eyed filled with tears and she began to cry.

Susan sighed. “Share it!”

“No!”

“Connor!”

His mother’s voice clearly insisted and did not condone any resistance. So, the boy broke the sweet in two pieces and handed grimly one of it to his sister who immediately was calm again. Then, he sat down beside is mother.

Susan wiped the tears and the snot off her daughter's face.

For a short moment, she had a fresh looking child, before new snot ran out of the nose and slobber, mixed with biscuit crumbles, came out of the mouth.

Then, she looked down to Connor. The boy held the biscuit piece between his dirty little fingers, chewed silently. Crumbles spread on his plaid cotton shirt around the chocolate speck that remembered on the ice cream he had a few minutes ago.

‘It's amazing! You can’t keep them clean and full. There’s always space for specks and food’, thought Susan, smiled and was thankful for the minute of distraction.

The door of the building on the opposite side of the street was still closed, silence, no movement, nobody around.

He had told them the approximate time when they should come to collect him, but this was over since nearly half an hour.  

Susan was nervous, even more when she saw somebody leaving the building.  

It was him.

He doesn’t look good.

Jackson’s head and shoulders hung down. He trotted slowly down the stairs, seemed to be exhausted.  

“Oh no”, whispered Susan. “He didn’t make it.”

Connor sprung off the bench, run to his father and took him by his hand. “Never mind, daddy’ he said comfortingly and guided him to the rest of the waiting family.

When he was close enough, Susan stroked his cheeks.  “Next time,” she said in the most optimistic way she could, but Jackson shook his head.

“No darlin’. It’s over.”

He didn’t look up, avoided to face her gaze.

“All these men in there … much younger than me … more educated … more intelligent.”

“Sush!” interrupted his wife. “I don’t want to hear that. You’re clever and smart and have more experience than all of these greenhorns. … If it shouldn't be this time then it will be next time. … Furthermore, it is just a stupid piece of paper. It tells nothing about your abilities.”

Jackson declined.

"No. No. You must resign yourself. From now on, you ..." - he lifted up his head that she could see his wide grin - "... will sleep with an examined doctor of medicine."

Susan widened her eyes. “You mean …”

“Yes! I made it.” He laid his free arm around her waist.

“You tricked me”, said Susan in fake anger, but she was filled with happiness and pride. “Well then, Doctor Matthew Judge, let’s see if it is better to kiss a doctor than a quack.”

Connor rolled his eyes and groaned. He knew that hours and hours could pass by if his parents kissed each other … Boring! On the other hand … now, it was the best time to get away with favourable requests and inevitable confessions. So, he said:

“We must urgently buy biscuits and ice cream  … and the vase in the living room is broken.”

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Yes!!!!

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Today, I'll open my personal treasure chest and give you another one of my favourites. I've kept it secret for a long time. Yes, it's another Sackson fluff, but I think it fits perfect in this week of summer heat. I love these two crazy sweethearts!

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Petticoat Lane

YES, I am early. YES, I am an awful swot!

... and YES, I become boring, because YES, it’s another Sackson family story! I hope you’ll like it anyway.

NOTE: I used ‘A man reborn’ by @omg-okimhere a bit as basement with the addition: Jackson and his family moved closer to Drake that he has contact to Connor and can see him grow up. Furthermore, I used an important element of @soot-and-snide  Mimimund ficlets and it is influenced by the last Sackson family idea of @ladyofdragonflies.

Words: 960

Captain Jackson eyed the paper wrapped package in front of him. He shook his head, emptied his glass and poured in another drink, right in the moment when Inspector Reid entered the pub.

Reid walked straight through the room directly towards Jackson. With a bright grin in his face, he sat down and said proudly “I got it.”

He put his parcel on the table, fiddled on the cord to open the knot and unfolded the brown paper. His face softened. “Isn’t it the cutest little helmet you’ve ever seen?”  

Reid turned the undersized policeman’s hat, gazed it with wet eyes and said sentimentally “one day, it will be no costume anymore. The son follows his father on the hard way of law and order.”

“Or he follows his mother on the colourful way of make-up and costumes” surmised Jackson bitterly.

Reid put the helmet down. “What’s that supposed to mean?”  

The Captain moved his package over the table to Reid and gestured him to open it. Then, he emptied his glass again. The Inspector followed the prompt. A moment later, he was confronted with a voluminous pink tulle petticoat.

“Connor’s costume” explained Jackson. He let his head bang on the table a few times.  When he has stopped, he looked desperately up to his friend. “I’ve made four girls in the last eight years and now it seems that my only son becomes number five and my house turns into a doll house.”

“Well, back to the roots, right?” laughed Reid, but Jackson didn’t find it amusing and grunted contemptuously.

Reid moved his chair closer to Jackson. He laid him his arm around the shoulder and said “don’t take it so hard. Maybe it’s just a phase. Look, my Walter James also insisted of some glitter on his uniform.“

“Yes, but he doesn’t want to be a pink fairy in a tutu.” Jackson pressed his face on Reid’s chest.

Reid patted his back. “What does Susan think?” he asked.

“She takes it practically” sobbed the Captain. “She says one of his younger sisters can wear the skirt when he’s grown out of it. “

Reid nodded. “What will you do now?”

“I'll go and buy him the matching pink shoes” said Jackson and got up. “I love my boy, whatever he wants to be.” He wiped his face dry, said goodbye to Reid and left the pub to go on with his further errands.

After Jackson has finished, he returned home.

***

A few days later, it was Halloween. Captain Jackson sat chained in colourful hair ribbons in the living room. Three of his daughters – all dressed as princesses – swarmed around him, decorated him – the monster dragon – with clasps,  false jewellery and more ribbons, because he – the monster dragon – had turned into a good one a few minutes ago. Susan took care about the youngest girl who couldn't walk yet but was indeed able to wear a tiara too and his son – the pink fairy – was outside with his friends to perform the usual ‘Trick or Treat’ procedure with the neighbours.

It was around 6 o’clock when the door suddenly opened and closed again with a loud bang. A pink flash rushed in and disappeared in the upper floor.

A second later, somebody knocked on the door.

Susan opened it. “Mr. Drake” she said. “What a lovely surprise. Please come in. How fare you and Francine? We didn't meet for a long time.”

“Thanks. We’re fine” responded Drake shortly and asked “Is Connor at home?”

Jackson freed himself off his prisoner’s situation - to the immense displeasure of his girls who immediately started to clamour – and went also to the door.  There, he yelled for his son who appeared a moment later at the stairs. He had undressed his fairy costume and looked now like an ordinary boy.

As Connor saw the former Inspector, he put on his most innocent face and said with a bright welcoming smile “Hello Uncle Ben!”

Now, it was not difficult to guess that there was something rotten.

Drake indicated the boy to come closer. Connor followed obediently.

As he stood in front of the adults, Jackson asked him “what have you done?”

Connor widened his eyes as much as possible to emphasize his puppy look from which he knew that it worked for his Uncle Ben and answered “Nothing.”

This time, Drake wasn’t satisfied with it. He said seriously “Don't lie!” He took the boy’s head, turned it that his neck became visible – and the many red spots too. As well as Drake, Susan and Jackson were familiar with this kind of skin marks but wanted to know anyway “what’s that?”

The lad smirked. “It’s not my fault when all girls want to play with the sweet pink fairy?”

“But it’s your fault if you rob their sweets while they are distracted with you” answered Drake. “Don't try to deny it, lil’ crook. I saw you in action.”

Susan shook her head. “I can’t believe that my boy is a lousy thief who fools girls to get more sweets” she said sadly. “Go upstairs, take your swag and make amends. Immediately!”

Connor rolled his eyes and groaned. But nothing was as bad as disappointing the own mother and so he turned around, ran up the stairs to fetch the scammed sweets. When he came back, Drake agreed to escort the robber on his way of excuse and both left the house.

***

Jackson, back in monster dragon position pampered by the princesses, breathed relieved.

Of course it was wrong, but one must confess, it was a really cunning trick that proved: His son remained his son and Jackson retained his male support in the petticoat lane of the other Judges.

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Philosophical Sackson… Not funny, but true 😢!

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@homerjacksons

Sackson Noir … my latest digital drawing crime to celebrate the Sackson Saturday!

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RS Writing Club - 1st story

The ice house in the summer’s heat

Some Sackson fluff. - What else?

Word count: 905

Today, every movement was a movement too much. That’s why Matthew Judge preferred laying in the grass under the shadow of a big tree and watching others working.  Poor devils which must buzz around to ensure their master’s well-being and poor devils which needed to protect the spoiled princess in this damned heat. Actually, it was the job he was paid for, but luckily he had won a day off with gambling yesterday.

Judge sucked on his cigarette, inhaled and blew some happy smoking rings in the air before he saw the old bugger entering the garden. It wasn’t wise to be seen by his boss in this lazy condition and so, he decided to get up and hide somewhere in wide backyard of the property.

After he was out of Swift’s sight, Judge strolled slowly around between the lush trees and bushes until he found a small solid building hidden in the full green.  Curious as he was, he took a closer look.

The door was slightly open. Refreshing cool air streamed from the inside.

*****

The door cracked lightly when Judge pushed it more open. He stepped through.

Darkness. Cold.

He stepped further and somebody screamed “Don’t!”

In the same moment, the door behind Judge closed with a bang and was locked. He turned around and tried to open it again.

“It isn’t worth the effort” he heard an annoyed female voice out of the darkness commenting his effort. “It only can be opened from outside. That’s why it was open. Bravo! Mr. Pinkerton, you trapped us.”

Judge looked around. As his eyes got used to the poor lightening conditions, he recognised a huge amount of covered ice blocks, different kind of food and a familiar silhouette sitting next to the only light source, a tiny barred window.

“Ms. Swift, what are you doing here?”

Judge set a grin on his face and went closer to the young women in the light silky summer dress with the scarf around her bare shoulders.

“That’s none of your business” she replied snappishly. “The question is why aren’t you with the other fools who are waiting in front of my bedroom protecting me?”

“Obviously, because I’m smarter and realised that you’re not in.”

He leaned again the wall and eyed her unashamedly.

“So, this is an ice house. Eh!”

Caitlin Swift rolled her eyes.

“Really? Indeed! I didn't get it. Thank you, clever man, for explaining the obvious to a stupid woman.” Her eyes glistened belligerently. “Maybe, you’ve a cunning idea to free us?”

Judge shrugged his shoulders.

“Depends on you and your will to sacrifice one of your hairpins!”    

Caitlin Swift fiddled in her hairdo. A golden curled hair strand fell when she pulled out one of the bended wires which she handed over to Mr. Judge.

Judge went back to the entrance door and groped for the keyhole.

No keyhole.  Not even a door handle; but a mischievous giggle in the background.

He took a deep breath and said “Seems that we must wait until somebody comes.”

He sat on a barrel beside the door, glanced in the room searching the lady. She still sat on the stockpile box next to the window.  

Judge didn’t know what he should say or do, felt foolish.

For a long while, they just sat on their places. Judge twisted the useless hairpin between his fingers and Caitlin Swift, lost in thoughts, looked through the dirty glass.  

Finally, it was the cold and a strange noise that waked the man out of the silence.

“Can you hear that?” he asked.  

No answer.

He got up. He walked towards his fellow inmate. The noise became louder.

“It’s your teeth. You’re cold.”

“Nonsense” she replied. “I’m fine.”

As Judge stood in front of Caitlin Swift, he could see her blue lips and shaking body.  He didn’t hesitate for a moment, took off his jacket and laid it around her shoulders. Then, he sat next to her.

“Don’t dare to touch me” she hissed, but he just replied “Shut up!”

He winded his arm around her, pulled her close to his body and started to rub her back.  

It felt warm and good and she must admit that she liked it.  

“Won’t you tell me why you’re in the ice house?”

She didn’t look up to him, but whispered “cold places for cold people.”

Judge put his pointer finger under her chin to lift up her head, stroke her cheek with his thumb, smiled warmly and said “Darlin’, you’re everything else but not cold. Let me prove it to you.”  

His lips came closer to hers, had almost reached the goal when suddenly the door jumped open.

*****

After the liberation from the ice house, outside, the summer’s heat struck back with all its power and let Caitlin Swift suffer the next days from a terrible cold. It kept her imprisoned in her fuggy bedroom, tortured her with fever, heavy cough and sniff, but gave her also the time to think about the ice house.

All of her life, it was the place where she went to escape her useless existence for a moment; and on hot days it was a welcomed refreshment.

From now on, it will be the place where somebody has made her feel alive for the first time and has left her with the need to finish something in the right way that has just begun.    

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RS Writing Club - 2nd story

Nature vs. Nurture

More Sackson fluff!

I personaly love this story. Although it is one of the later chapters in my Sackson saga (what’s definitively the real end for me!!!) I don’t want to deprive it to you. Spontaneous decision. That’s why it isn’t reviewed yet! But it suits so well to this prompt.

word count: 1077

„Connor!“

The child interrupted his play and followed the call of his mother.  A moment later, he stands in front of her.

Susan pointed to the heap of clothes on the floor between her and her son. The boy followed her glance.

„What‘s that?“ she asked and Connor answered “my socks, my shirt and my underpants.”

“Why it lays on the floor?”

Connor looked up to his mother and said “because I dropped it there.”

“I can see that. Why?”

The child rolled annoyed his eyes. Then, he explained “because it’s dirty.”

Susan put the hands on her hips. “What do we do with dirty clothes?”

“We put them in the laundry bag” answered her son correctly.

“Well then, lift them up and bring them there!”

Connor looked from his mother to the mess and back to his mother. “No! You must do that.”

Susan widened her eyes as visible reaction of upcoming anger regarding to this obvious resistance against her order. She remained calm, but her voice became forcefully.

“They aren’t mine. For the last time, Connor, lift them up and bring them to the laundry bag.”

The boy shook his head. “No”, he said again. “You must do it. I must play.” Without further explanations, he turned around and returned to his toys.

Susan, willy-nilly left, wavering between amazement and anger, pursed her lips. She wasn’t sure what she should do now. Making a fuss with everything that goes along with it? Or Discuss? Insist that the child follows the rules? Or cave in? She knew her son. He had his own ideas and could be obstinate as a mule. Useless to interact; but on the other hand, the boy needed to learn responsibility of his belongings.

A clever solution was needed.  

For the moment, Susan decided to retain everything like it was, also if it means to overcome her sense of order.  

*****

The next who stumbled on the scattered clobber was Jackson.

“Argh! … Damned it, Connor” he barked. “Put your stuff away!”

The child remained unimpressed, pretended not to hear and went on playing.

Jackson was stunned. In his helplessness he pointed at Susan and said “your son!”

“And yours!” she countered. “Sit down. It’s Afternoon Tea. … Connor!”

No reaction.

“I should put the little rogue over my knees and beat the disobedience out of his bones!”

Susan scowled at her husband. Her eyes flashed. “If you ever put your hands at him I’ll kill you.”

“Yeah, I know you would, as well as you know that I would never harm him.”

The Captain patted his wife tenderly on her shoulder. Then, he went to the seat under the porthole, sat down behind the table and sighed “but what can we do? It’s like talking to a wall.”

“What did you expect? You know his parents.”

Susan poured tea in the two cups on the table. “Time will tell.” She sat down next to Jackson, put the right amount of sugar in his drink and stirred the fluid afterwards. “In any case, we’ll not beat him. We must nurture him with love and patience and we must never forget that we are the adults.”

Jackson took his cup and groaned in an annoyed manner. To change the subject he asked “no biscuits to tea today!”

He didn’t know from where she had taken it but in the next moment, a fresh box of biscuits stood on the table. Jackson grinned satisfied, took one and ate it in one piece. The crunch, the sweetness, the delicious taste of vanilla with the hint of cinnamon made him smile, improved his mood, let him take another one.

The fine pastry worked wonders for the man, but it also aroused the attention of the boy who came immediately to get his part of the sweets.

He grasped blatantly at the biscuit box, but his mother put it out of his reach.

“Have you brought your stuff in the laundry bag?”  

Connor smiled innocently and nodded with gleaming eyes. But Susan saw through the angel face.

“Are you lying to me?”

The nod became a shake of the head.

She stood up and made a step forward.

The child suspected what his mother wanted to do now, and braced himself with all his power against her legs to prevent it.

“I did it” he assured. “Now, I want a biscuit.”  

Susan moved. Connor increased his resistance.

“You needn’t to have a look” he said and demanded “give me a biscuit.”

Susan shook her head. “As long as you don’t tidy up your things you’ll get no biscuit.”

Connor made a face. He turned around, went to his father and threw himself into his arms. Big tears rolled on command over the boy’s face. He sobbed. “Mama is so evil.”

“Why?” asked Jackson hardly able to hold back laughter.

“She doesn’t give me a biscuit.”

“Why?”

“Because I should put my dirty clothes in the laundry bag.”

“Then do it!”

“No!” Connor looked pleadingly in his father’s eyes. “You must give me a biscuit, daddy.”

While shaking his head, Jackson repeated the words of his wife. “As long as you don’t tidy up your things you’ll get no biscuit.”

Highly indignant broke Connor off the embracement, made his eyes half close and hissed “Evil mama! Evil daddy!” Then, he turned, went back to his playground and was stubborn.

*****

A little time later, Jackson and Susan noticed some activity under the table and could observe a tiny thievish hand groping over the table plate, searching unobtrusively for the biscuit box.

They smirked and let it happen, but each time when the success seemed to be close, Jackson moved the carton a few inches further away.  

After the hand appeared the half arm, then the whole arm and, finally, the child’s head.

Connor was discovered.

He screamed, threw himself on the floor, cried; but all this had no effect on his parents.

At the end, he gave up and disappeared again in his corner.

*****

Half an hour later, a happy child came, as if nothing happened, back to the tea table and proclaimed proudly “I brought my clothes in the laundry bag.”

He took his mother’s hand, urged her to get up and convince herself.

After they returned, Susan sat back and Connor climbed on her lap.

Both smiled.

“Now, you can have a biscuit” said Susan and let the boy take one out of the box.  

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This is another digital Sackson drawing. I just used the ink and the wipe tools here. A huge advantage of digital tools are the copy and the layer technologies. So you can experiment without spoiling or losing the original drawing. I really like the black and white version, which I made first, but then I thought I should try colours too. So I've also made a coloured version.

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SACKSOOOON FOREVER!

I want a Ripper Street spam! Even more … a Sackson Saturday spam!!!! … it’s really hard to compete with all the Witcher MyAnna‘s these days … but I want Susan MyAnna plus Jackson!!! … and I do!

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Finally it’s finished!  ... and it’s absolutely fascinating in my eyes. It’s a digital painting, pastel but it also took  4 days to make it. Very time consuming with uncountable undos and much uncertainty. This time I only used the pastels brush/tool of my drawing app (I use Procreate). First, I wanted to make it more opaque but then I didn’t because of the pastel tool structure which is great. At the beginning, I wasn’t sure if it will ever be something decent because I didn’t trust the colours, but I followed straight what I saw. Very difficult were the overlays which also made me unsure about the result. 

My picture was made according to a collage which @sempiternal-flow made last year. I saved it on May 6th 2017 for my personal pleasure. @sempiternal-flow allowed me to publish it again that you can compare the artwork above with the original source that was below made by her. Thank you!

Here’s the source, made by @sempiternal-flow , May 2017

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Who can't wait for the Sackson Saturday? ... Me! Me! Me!