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my-deer-history · 2 years ago

Note

Can you tell me about Louis de Vegobre and his possible relationship with Laurens and Kinloch?

Sure! Others will certainly know more, but here’s a little of what I’ve pulled together about these three.

Louis Manoel de Vegobre was a Swiss lawyer and intellectual who befriended Laurens during his time as a student in Geneva. He tutored Laurens in mathematics, and in return Laurens taught de Vegobre English. Kinloch arrived Geneva in May 1774, and although they only spent a few months together there (Laurens left in July 1774), they quickly formed a close-knit circle, studying and socialising together, and mingling with other English students and eminent Genevan scholars and scientists.

There is little written correspondence from that time, as there was no need to write letters to those who lived so close. But it is evident from Laurens’ letters after his departure that he loved his time in Geneva, in large part because of the relationships he had built there - he writes to Kinloch on 23 August 1774 that “I dont know when I shall get into such a valuable Set of Acquaintance as I have left”.

Whether all of this remained purely platonic, in the style of romantic friendship, or extended into homoerotic or even homosexual realms, is impossible to prove definitively - but there is a good deal of evidence that the three of them were more than “just friends”.

For one, they mingled with figures who were known to have homosexual inclinations. Among these was Swiss historian Johannes von Müller (himself at the centre of a web of queer figures, including Swiss writer Karl Viktor von Bonstetten), who was known for his homoerotic love letters and, per Rictor Norton, “always travelled with young male companions, and even set up house together in the Alps with the American Francis Kinlock [sic]”. They stayed together in Chambésy in 1775, which presumably is what Laurens is referring to, with evident longing, in his letter to Kinloch on 10 March 1775:

Mr. Boon has communicated your plan of spending the summer with Vegobre in some convenient retreat in Switzerland, a plan which I should of all things like myself, and which I dare to say you will find great benefit from.

What three young men of a certain persuasion might get up to in the privacy and safety of an alpine retreat I will leave to your imagination.

Side note on Müller and Kinloch - in 1802/3, Müller was involved in a homosexual scandal, after a former pupil faked love letters to him from a made-up admirer, to which Müller responded with equal (and damning) fervour. The ensuing scandal cost Müller his fortune. He writes a letter to Kinloch on 12 May 1803, explaining his dire situation, to which Kinloch responds:

L'idée de ce qui aurait pu arriver à cette extreme nocturne me fait frémir - Vous souvient il, cher ami, du commencement do notre liaison à Geneve? My transcription: The idea of what could have happened at this nocturnal extreme makes me shudder - Does it remind you, dear friend, of the beginning of our affair in Geneva?

Clearly, the mention of the scandal was a reminder to Kinloch of whatever they may have gotten up to twenty years prior.

In Laurens’ absence from Geneva, Kinloch and de Vegobre remained close, and all three of them wrote to and about each other using expressions of deep love and affection, expressing a desire for contact and closeness - which, to me, often veers into the romantic.

Here are some examples, in chronological order:

My beloved, my dearest friend is Kinloch […] Let me say again: Kinloch is my beloved, my dearest friend. […] You have began to make me feeling how hard it is to see the departure of a man to whom one’s heart is addicted

Louis de Vegobre to John Laurens, 24 December 1774

I would be wrong to hide from you that I was upset at you [but now I want to] occupy myself only with the pleasure I had upon seeing that your heart is without fault, and that you have maintained the same sentiments towards me that you expressed to me when you left Geneva. […] Permit me to remark to you that [a time of adversity] is where we know our friends, and that it is here (I dare say) that you will see that the attachments of my heart are not a light bond formed by pleasure which does not last beyond it. […] You congratulate me on my friendship with Kinloch, oh how right you are to congratulate me! What an excellent man! What a friend I have in him! […] I repeat that I am entirely at your service & that I responded very sincerely and very deeply to the feelings that you have expressed for me.

Louis de Vegobre to John Laurens, 18 October 1775

You and I may differ my Dear Kinloch in our political Sentiments but I shall always love you from the Knowledge I have of your Heart.

John Laurens to Francis Kinloch, 12 April 1776

we hold too fast by one anothers hearts, my dear Laurens, to be afraid of exposing our several opinions to each other […] Be certain that I never shall forget you

Francis Kinloch to John Laurens, 28 April 1776

that Letter & the pretty gift that you attached are very agreeable marks of your friendship […] I learnt that I was loved & esteemed by you as much as I could have desired […] I am much persuaded, my Dear, that if we could live together our mutual happiness would be augmented; especially when I think of the calamities that surround you, I would desire to be close to you, to witness your fortitude and to offer you the relief of my friendship […] I saw this morning our friend Kinloch: what shall I tell you of him which you don’t already know? […] I regard it is as one of the joys of my life to have become his friend.

Louis de Vegobre to John Laurens, 7 June 1776

And after Laurens’ blistering letter to Kinloch about their differing political views, Kinloch seemingly responds with hurt and offence, which Laurens tries to smooth over with a reaffirmation of his feelings:

I have no Copies of what I write, and therefore can’t be exactly sure of all the Expressions which I used in my Letter, this I am persuaded of that there was nothing in it that could be construed to throw any Imputation upon the Qualities of your Heart on account of the side you took in our political Dispute […] It was from the great Opinion I had of your Heart that I first wish’d to form a Friendship with you, it is from the great Opinion that I still have of it, that I am exceedingly desirous of cultivating and improving that Friendship […] I still think your political principles wrong, the Sentiments which you have adopted with respect to your own Country strike me with horrour, and I hope you’ll change them_ but I am persuaded you think they are right and your Heart with me is unimpeached_

John Laurens to Francis Kinloch, 30 September 1776

(Extracts above from de Vegobre’s letters of 18 October 1775 and 7 June 1776 are taken from my translations of the original French.)

#historical john laurens #john laurens #francis kinloch #louis de vegobre #johannes von muller #queer history #18th century history

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wouldntyou-liketoknow · 1 year ago

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K.O. [Kaiser Oasis]

(I’ve already made an information post like this, but said post is pretty long; in fact, it’ll just get longer and more expansive as I develop new characters and stories for [The Future Mob Project]. And I’m worried that the sheer length will make readers lose interest when they click on a link to look for a specific character. So, I’ll be making separate information pages for each character while still maintaining the all-inclusive post. Got it? Good.)

Who He’s Based Off Of: Ethan Nestor (CrankGamePlays)

His Method of Work: Whether he’s in the arena, defending himself and his peers, or extracting information from enemies, K.O. packs a major wallop. Not only that, but his stamina is roughly on-par with that of a mongoose fueled by a few too many Pixie Sticks. . . He was discovered by The Pentas Family shortly after The Boss decided to branch out into the underground fighting business.

Red Attire: Jeans and boxing shorts (Amaranth)

Notes:

Despite being a mobster, he’s a surprisingly courteous fighter. Yeah, he pummels his opponents, but that’s literally what career-fighting is all about. Now, on the other hand: if you’ve personally wronged him or someone he cares about, or if he catches wind that you’re going to try and cheat your way through a match with him…well, I wouldn’t count on him having too much self-restraint.

Ironically, K.O. also serves as a medic for The Pentas Family. It took some time and practice, of course, but he’s gotten pretty damn good at patching up stab/bullet wounds and resetting broken bones. (It’s not uncommon to get bumps and bruises in the underground business, and going to a normal hospital is typically a big no-no, since the staff there would likely ask too many questions about certain injuries.)

While he only wraps his hands for his fighting matches, he’s still not above occasionally using brass knuckles—which he has affectionately named Francis and J.P.—for interrogation or message-sending assignments.

Though he’ll sometimes travel for certain assignments, K.O. usually represents The Pentas Family at a place called The WormRoll: roller skating rink by day, hidden-in-plain-sight fighting arena by night. The building is connected to the abandoned subway tunnels, and K.O. has made his personal platform-office-den into a training room.

Before and after his matches, he wears a black robe with a picture of a peacock mantis shrimp embroidered on the back. (When K.O. first joined The Pentas Family, Murdock commissioned a sewing artist to make said robe as a welcoming gift for him. Yes, Francis and J.P. were included in that gift.)

He’s multilingual; he can speak English, French, Portuguese, and Italian on a conversational level. This obviously means a lot of foreign swearing when he’s frustrated/angry. He has no trace of an accent from any of those languages, and none of his peers know why or how he picked them up in the first place. K.O., being the gremlin he is, doesn’t plan to explain anytime soon. (Plus, he can’t not be a little smug about being the only Italian-speaking member of a mob. Just like how he can’t not use that to tease Murdock.)

Y’know creepy-crawly lollipops? Yes, the ones that have a cricket or some other insect frozen inside. Those are K.O.’s favorite candy. Unless he’s in the ring, he’s almost always got one in his pocket. (On a slightly more humorous note: sometimes he’ll make a small show of pretending that the lollipop sticks are cigarettes.)

Current Stories: (Goretober 2023) Day 3: Broken Bones, (Goretober 2023) Day 7: Needles, Bloody Tricks and Even Bloodier Treats, (Goretober 2024) Day 2: Operation

@sammys-magical-au

#my writing #K.O.#K.O./kaiser oasis #ethan nestor #crankgameplays #crankegos #fanmade egos #my characters #my fan egos #the pentas family #[the future mob project]

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turtlethon · 2 years ago

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“Shredder’s New Sword”

Season 7, Episode 8 First US Airdate: October 9, 1993

Shredder captures the mystical sword Excalibur and threatens to destroy the fabric of time.

“Shredder’s New Sword” is the eighth episode of the “Vacation in Europe” side-season of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Series regulars Francis Moss and Ted Pedersen are the credited writers for this adventure.

Today the Turtles are in London, England, and make an overnight visit along with Splinter to the British Museum. Leonardo views a painting of King Arthur wielding the sword Excalibur, alongside Queen Guinevere and the Knights of the Round Table. Raphael and Michaelangelo join Leo in being mesmerised by the artwork, until Donatello steps in to point out that this legend is a work of fiction.

In the Technodrome, Krang fiddles with a detector machine that can track any element on Earth. A rare one, Diridium, has turned up in England, the supplies of which would be enough to allow him to power up his fortress. Zooming in on an old castle, he views a pair of tombs, one of which contains King Arthur and Excalibur. Determining that the sword itself must be the source of the Diridium, Shredder sets off with Bebop and Rocksteady to claim the sword.

Back in London, we join the Turtles in the sewers, as Michaelangelo has sourced some punk rocker costumes for the team that surely would have looked dated in 1980, and downright bizarre by the time the events of this episode were taking place in the early nineties. Splinter declines to try on his disguise, opting to stay behind as the London sewers are “full of history”. (From here it just looks like they’re full of trash.)

You know how this works by now: wherever the Turtles travel in Europe, April is never far behind. Today she wanders with Irma through the streets of London, complete with a red phone box and a single dowdy old car that both look about as current as Mikey’s punk outfits. April immediately spots the Turtles, doing an inexplicable finger-wagging animation before noting rockers with green skin tend to stand out. It probably helps that they’re the only other people wandering around in a city which then had a population of 6.75 million.

Irma explains that Burne sent her with April to cover the upcoming benefit event for the Prince’s Trust, which will be held at the Royal Albert Hall. The Crown Jewels will be on display there, and April invites the Turtles to join them in attending, on the condition that they get some better costumes.

Shredder is accompanied by Rocksteady and Bebop as he makes his way into the castle identified by Krang, claiming Excalibur for himself. Declaring himself “King Shredder the First”, he uses the sword’s magical powers to shatter a boulder before making his henchmen knights under the titles of “Sir Bebop” and “Sir Rocksteady”.

The Turtles arrive at the charity event in their trench-coat disguises, but some unexpected attendees gatecrash the event: King Shredder and his knights, driving a car up the steps and through the doors of the Royal Albert Hall. Shreds claims a crown on display for himself as Rocksteady and Bebop restrain a group of London “bobbies” by dropping a chandelier on them.

The Turtles step in, but are easily defeated by the power of Excalibur. Clearing out the remaining crown jewels, the three villains escape in their car. Our heroes give chase, with Leonardo hurling his katanas to puncture the car’s tyres. Shredder and his men are forced to escape on foot, fleeing to a park where Excalibur brings a pair of stone lions to life. The cats corner the green teens as the first act reaches its conclusion.

Act two opens with the Turtles in peril until a bearded wizard brandishing a magic wand intervenes, using his powers to shatter both lions. Before the team can process what just happened, the wizard vanishes again. With no clue as to what’s going on, the Turtles decide to return to the museum to engage in further research. While there, they spot a painting of the same individual they encountered, said to be Merlin, who stuns the team by coming to life in front of them. After having the situation explained to him, the doddering magician agrees to help the Turtles return Excalibur to its rightful place.

Merlin is perplexed as he wanders through the streets of London with the Turtles – now minus their disguises. The familiar sight of a group of TVs in a store window, all of them displaying the same pre-recorded news report by April, are staggering to the wizard, and his confusion is even greater when the real April appears in front of him. The group then watch a further news broadcast, in which an English announcer covers both the theft of the Crown Jewels and the appearances of historical figures around the city - “it’s as if the past were intruding itself upon the present!” - before moving on to cover the cricket results. Donatello speculates that the use of Excalibur is causing a time shift that will worsen if it continues, until the entire world ends up being pulled into a temporal black hole.

Irma arrives on a horse-drawn carriage, explaining that it was a sports car when the rental company supplied it, but transformed midway through the journey. Prior to this change, she learned on the car radio that Shredder is in the process of robbing the Bank of England. Advising the ladies to return to their hotel, the Turtles and Merlin head off to intervene.

Shredder and The Boys are seen emerging from the “Bank of London” rather than the Bank of England on cool motorbikes that look more like something from Skeleton Warriors than what we typically see in TMNT. Determining that the final thing he needs to be a king is a queen, Shreds happens to ride past the horse carriage containing the only two women in town and grabs April, electing her to rule alongside him. The Turtles and Merlin witness this, and conclude Shredder is likely to head to the Tower of London next, given that the King of England used to reside there.

At the tower, Shredder has April and Irma tied up and crows to Rocksteady and Bebop about his newfound power, dismissing Krang as now being insignificant compared to him. He demonstrates this by generating a pair of giant knights, who he sends after the Turtles when they arrive to confront him. Merlin attempts to counter-attack but his powers can only generate a small pet cat due to his rustiness; as a result both he and the Turtles soon find themselves tied up, boulders affixed to them as Bebop and Rocksteady shove them into what I assume is supposed to be the Thames River.

As the third act opens, Leonardo spots a sunken ship at the bottom of the river, and floats near it to snap his ropes before freeing the others. After the group swim to safety, Merlin suggests that they may be able to find a way to strike back in Camelot, where his book of spells is kept, but they’ll need to act quickly: if Shredder retains Excalibur for an entire day and night, nothing will be able to stop him.

The Turtles and Merlin travel to Camelot, watching as the castle begins to rebuild itself. Shredder is one step ahead, now wearing the crown stolen earlier and clutching the spellbook in addition to Excalibur. The masked villain appears to be unstoppable until King Arthur appears, accompanied by Guinevere. Declaring that Shredder is an illegitimate king, he requests the assistance of a “champion”, leading Michaelangelo to nominate himself along with the other Turtles: “I’m a champion surfer, Leonardo here’s a champion ninja, Donatello’s a champion brain, and Raphael’s a champion... wise guy!”

A contest soon unfolds, with Arthur selecting Donatello and Michaelangelo to battle on his behalf. Shredder is keen to put forward his giant black knights, but Arthur insists that Rocksteady and Bebop compete instead. In the first contest, Bebop clashes with Donatello atop a log over one the castle’s moat, with an alligator swimming around beneath them. In a confusing bit of animation, Donnie appears to strike the log beneath them, knocking both into the water; after he ejects the gator into the air using the log, it lands on top of an escaping Bebop, chasing him away. Arthur goes on to declare Donnie the winner of the first duel.

For the second round, Rocksteady – instructed by Shredder in advance to cheat – engages in a jousting/surfing contest against Mikey. The mutant rhino is quick to pull a laser blaster on his opponent, but his opponent uses his spear to flip his opponent’s platform into the air. “Sir Michaelangelo” is deemed the winner of round two by Arthur.

All of this turns out to have been a huge waste of time as, despite having decisively lost both rounds, Shredder’s response to being asked to hand over the sword is effectively “nuh-uh”. He goes on to engage in a brief swordfight with Leonardo, in which the Turtle’s blade is almost immediately destroyed by Excalibur. Raphael intervenes, knocking the weapon out of Shredder’s hand and allowing Arthur to reclaim it. Reunited with Rocksteady and Bebop, Shreds begs Krang to open a portal and allow them to retreat, promising to do anything – from cleaning the alien brain’s quarters, to giving both of their mutant henchmen a bath. Having sufficiently twisted the knife, Krang provides the trio with the ability to return to the Technodrome.

King Arthur knights the Turtles, declaring that they will always serve as members of his Round Table. He disappears into the mist, along with Guinevere, Merlin and the reconstructed Camelot. With the normal flow of time restored, it appears as if all of this was a dream, though a bandage on Raphael’s arm confirms that these events really did happen. A tuckered-out Michaelangelo has managed to doze off after all of today’s excitement.

“Shredder’s New Sword” is an inconsistent offering, with multiple themes and concepts jammed into its twenty-two-minutes, none of them being pulled off entirely successfully. The show has always struggled to make its depictions of New York (later just “The City”) feel authentic, as we’ve seen in so many episodes where the Turtle Van will be driving around barren, deserted versions of locales like Times Square, and much the same is true here in the depiction of London. Some of the backgrounds and locales feel surprisingly authentic in terms of detail, yet the sense remains that time and budget requirements are robbing us of the chance to really see the Turtles interacting with the sights and people of the modern London of the 1990s; at some points it feels more like they’re wandering around some lifeless husk of a little English town in the seventies during the dead of night. We saw much the same when the Turtles visited Paris and Dublin, the emphasis on the historical significance of these locales overshadowing the fact that these are nevertheless modern cities: it comes off as almost condescending, honestly.

The potential for the Turtles to spend more time exploring London is scuppered further by the arrival of Merlin, and the third act in particular takes place almost entirely outside Camelot instead. We can take some solace in the fact that the team will return for the concluding episode of this arc, “Elementary, My Dear Turtle”, so there’s still time to make up for this; before then we still have a few episodes left to cover, as next time the Turtles will arrive in Greece to encounter “The Lost Queen of Atlantis”.

#Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles #TMNT #TMNT 1987 #Ninja Turtles #Turtlethon #Shredder's New Sword #1992 #1993 #Vacation in Europe

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eyesoverinfinity · 2 years ago

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Episode 5: Something isn't ripe

The intro plays, it is a Introduction to all 8 of the hosts of this show: Zoey, Louis, Francis, Bill, Ellis, Nick, Rochelle and Coach.

Then the logo appears:

The logo dissipates to revel the camera zooming in on the hosts, as pre-recorded clapping plays.

Louis steps forward

Louis: Welcome to 8 in the kitchen! The show were we make food and may regret it later!

Louis: Today Coach has the chief's hat, so he is the head chief! Coach, what are we making today?

Coach: Well, remember how I went on a holiday to the amazon?

The camera rolls a clip of an amazon store.

Coach: No not that amazon, The rainforest that they are destroying for capitalism!

The camera rolls a clip of the rainforest.

Coach: Yes that one. Anyway, I was on holidays in the amazon and a bunch of stuff happened that I can't cover because it'd take too long.

The camera show pictures of Coach traveling the amazon, Falling down a cavern, fighting cannibals, being saved by Amazonian warriors and having lunch with them.

Coach: What's relevant here, is that I found a new kind of fruit!

The camera shows a picture of Coach picking a fruit from a tree in front of the cannibals cave. A cannibal is a blur as they pounce on him.

Coach: it got me in a lot of trouble, but boy it was worth it!

Nick: Are we going to gloss over the fact you fought cannibals?

Zoey: And that you met a lost civilisation?

Coach: They weren't 'lost', but for the sake of time, yes. But it will be on my Tumblr. @chesseburgerapocalypse.

(Warning from the writer, as far as I know this is a not real Tumblr. If it is I am happy to take this name down and replace it.)

Coach: Today, we are going to make EVERY FRUIT BASED DESSERT EVER! With this new fruit.

Coach drops a basket of the fruit. It is blue at the base, transitioning to purple at the middle, turning red at the bottom. Each are the size of an apple.

Ellis: Wow, how'd you grow so much so quickly?

Coach: It just did that.

Ellis: Isn't that a bit worrying?

Coach: Don't worry, the Amazonians are basically a real life Wakanda. If something turns up then we'll be told. Lets go to the game plan.

A sheet of blueprint paper rolls over the camera to show the transit to the ‘game plan’ screen.

Coach: OK, we have the fruit, which is the main ingredient for all the recipes, but we only have this basket for today. So here are the recipes we'll be doing:

A picture of a pie is drawn

Coach: We, unfortunately, don't have time to do every fruit dessert ever like I said.

Booing is heard.

Coach: But we will be doing one recipe each.

A picture of a cheesecake, tart, crumble, cobbler, ice lolly, clafoutis and trifle are drawn. The pictures almost goes off screen.

Coach: So that will hopefully be enough.

Louis: how many of each will we be making?

Coach: We'll make one of each recipe, this isn't Nick's giant pizza, we're not trying to make more then we can eat. Each of us will draw a piece of paper out of this top hat that has defiantly been here this whole time.

The camera pans to the animated top hat that defiantly wasn't there the whole time. Each of the chibi's took a piece of paper from the hat. Coach: now we've chosen the recipes, lets go back to the kitchen.

The camera cuts back to the kitchen. The hosts are looking confused as to the paper in their hands, as if the chibi's caused them to appear. They notice the camera is back on them and go back to hosting.

Coach: Alright, Now that we have the recipes... some how... We'll each do them separately and you'll be shown the best bits!

A time-lapse appears, each of the hosts are on their own table and are making a different recipe. The camera stops to show Rochelle explaining what she's making.

Rochelle: I got the crumble, which means I'm currently mixing the sugar and oats while the fruit is stewing. Which is taking... a lot longer than expected. Wait, What did Coach call the fruit?

Rochelle yells to coach.

Rochelle: Hey Coach! What did you call the fruit?

Coach: Don't know yet, I haven't thought of a name!

Rochelle: Coach that holiday was three weeks ago!

Coach: Coach is good at many things girl, but naming isn't one of them.

Francis: Can I name it?

Coach: Boy, you're worse at it then me!

Francis: Maybe. But it won't take me three weeks to do it!

The time-lapse continues, each of the hosts are on their own table and are making a different recipe. The camera stops to show Louis explaining what he's making.

Louis: I'm making the cheesecake!

He is yelling over the sound of a food processor.

Louis: I'm mixing the fruit with the cream cheese and other ingredients, but the fruit seems to be fixing itself in the processor?

Rochelle: Yeah! I've been stewing this fruit for 30 minutes now and the 2 fruits I cut up seems to have fused into one big fruit!

Louis: I know that it's our job, but I think making these desserts is a bad idea!

Rochelle: I'll tell Coach, Hey Coach!-

As the blender stops the camera pans to Coach, who got the trifle recipe, staring at disbelief at a small sapling coming out of his dessert.

Coach: I put this in the oven for 45 minutes, what in the lords name is this thing?

Ellis: Um, guys?

The camera pans to Ellis, who has a few saplings growing from each of his tarts. It looks more like a small forest then a tray of tarts

Ellis: I don't think we should keep doing this. I haven't been able to stop it from growing!

Zoey: Yours are growing?

The camera pans to Zoey, who got the ice lollies recipe and isn't having a problem.

Ellis: Ok that's just unfair.

Zoey: Maybe you just added something to yours? I haven't heard Nick complain.

The camera pans to Nick. He is on the floor, beating the saplings in his dessert with a rolling pin. They are much bigger then the others.

Nick: They won't stop growing. WHY WON'T YOU STOP GROWING!?

Nick looks to be on the verge of tears.

Zoey: Yeah ok, these things need to go.

The camera has a new transition. The show's logo appears, the green fire blazing and the lid red hot, the lid is removed to reveal a kitchen knife and a pistol crossed together. Big words, lit with the green fire, slam onto the plate holding the items. They say:

FOOD FIGHT

Each host takes their kitchen appliance and real weapon of choice and prepares to attack.

Ellis takes a G26 pistol and begins to shoot his tarts. While Nick throws his overgrown treats into an fridge and throws a timed pipe bomb in with it. Coach is seen with a chainsaw but ensuing mess covers the camera looking at him. Rochelle shoves the semi-stewed fruit into a plastic bag and starts beating it with a baseball bat.

Louis takes a pump shot gun and unloads it into his half made cheese cake. Bill covers his dessert, the pie, in alcohol and lights it with his cigarette. Francis takes a submachine gun, but is stopped by Ellis to give him another one to duel wield before he shoots his plant infested clafoutis. Zoey picks up her ice lolly and drops it in the bin.

Ellis: "IS THIS WORKING?"

Ellis yells out over the gunfire. The saplings are seen being torn to pieces, but still trying to grow. Each induvial piece that gets broken off grows back as fast as they shoot it, the pace of the growing seem to have accelerated with the attacks.

Francis: "I THINK WE'RE MAKING IT WORSE!"

Nick: "WELL WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO THEN?!"

A bang is hear from inside the fridge Nick is holding shut, he waits a few seconds and opens it to reveal that the plant has been turned to sludge thanks to the cold. Zoey looks at this scene and her dessert and comes to a realisation.

Zoey: "THE COLD, IT'S WEAK TO THE COLD! THAT WHY I WAS FINE WITH THE ICE LOLLIES!"

Bill: "EVERY ONE, GRAB THE PLANTS AND PUT THEN IN THE DEEP FREEZE ROOM!"

The hosts pick the the varying desserts and remaining fruit and throw them in the freezer room. They then barricade the door with one of their desks. As they stop to catch their breath, Coach's phone rings.

Coach: "Hello, Coach speaking. Hey Janaína... Yeah we found that- What? No one has eaten- Calm down! No one has eaten it yet."

The hosts turn to Coach, listening in on the conversation.

Coach: "What happened? You were testing the fruit..... someone ate it, and... excuse me, what?"

There a pause, the hosts look nervous.

Coach: "Does that that the cannibals were...? Oh God."

The hosts look frightened now.

Coach: "Nah, we didn't know shit! We found out that they grow crazy fast and are weak to the cold."

Zoey: "It may of been the heat. The fruit grew quick, but not that quick till we started to cook and attack it."

Coach: "That was Zoey she's... You put your samples in a furnace? You may want too... Hello?"

Coach shakes his phone a bit.

Coach: "It's cut out."

There is an other pause.

Louis: "Well, that's all we have for this episode! We are going to find a way to depose of this... dark fruit."

Coach: "That's a much better name then I thought of! Lets call it that!"

Louis: "We'll see you next time!"

Everyone: "Bye!"

The hosts go back to talking.

Ellis: "Should we go help them?"

Coach: "We'd need cold guns, a helicopter and a willingness to likely break multiple laws."

Louis: "You had me at heliccopter!"

Rochelle: "You had me at cold guns."

Nick: "You had me at breaking the law!"

Off screen voice: "Guys, guys we're still rolling."

Coach: "what do you mean we're-"

The theme song plays and the credits roll. There is no post credit scene.

#l4d louis #l4d2 ellis #l4d2 rochelle #left 4 dead 2 #left 4 dead #l4d bill #coach l4d2 #l4d2 #l4d francis #l4d2 au #l4d au #l4d2 nick #l4d zoey #8 in the kitchen au #cooking show au

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pamphletstoinspire · 1 year ago

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Meditations of St. Padre Pio – Part 2 B

Padre Pio was at the height of his priestly apostolate with multitudes of pilgrims visiting him, for his Mass, to confess to him, and to ask him for prayers and counsel. He was a master of souls; he directed everyone with penetrating words full of deep meaning. His series of "Meditations" was the first complete text of Padre Pio's thoughts. These texts consists of Padre Pio's meditations upon the fundamental dogmas of the Catholic faith. The Immaculate Conception and the Incarnation of Jesus. He then relives Jesus' agony in the garden of olives. Next he reflects on the human condition, and on our need to turn to God in the passing of our days. These are not conventional texts; they are reflections derived from the contemplation of the absolute Truth. “Mary Immaculate” is a more theological text. The others are more human and simple.

Padre Pio, in the first years of his residence in San Giovanni Rotondo (1918 – 1920), when he was freer from the care of souls, wrote a few meditations for his novices and his spiritual daughters of the Franciscan Third Order. They were the text of his lectures or instructions that he gave weekly as their Spiritual Director. After that, between the years 1925 – 1928, Padre Pio compiled other meditations. Fr. Agostino of San Marco in Lamis affirms it in his "Diary:" The Provincial, Fr. Bernardo of Alpicella, once suggested to Padre Pio to “compile a few meditations for the principal feasts of the year for our seminarians.” When Padre Pio was shown the possibility of publishing these meditations, he said: "I have written these things for myself." But, when it was explained to him that "they would do a lot of good to our souls" he smilingly said: "if it is as you say, bonum est diffu sivum sui (good, by its nature, is destined to be spread).

First Meditation - Christmas Season - Part 2

J. M. J. – D. F. C. Note: The initials J. M. J. – D. F. C. Stands for Jesus, Mary, Joseph – Dominic, Francis, Catherine

O Divine Spirit, move my heart to adore and to love: enlighten my intellect that it may contemplate the sublimity of the great mystery of love, of a God who has become a little Child; inflame my will that I may use it to warm the One who for my sake lies shivering on the straw. O Mary, my Mother, lead me to the cave of Bethlehem and let me plunge into contemplation of the great and sublime event that is about to take place in the silence of this greatest and most beautiful night the world has ever known.

O my soul, look upon your heavenly Mother who with Joseph her husband obeys the decree of Augustus and simultaneously God's command, in order that the prophecies may be fulfilled. In the depths of winter she travels from Nazareth to Bethlehem, regardless of her dignity as the Mother of God. Without hesitation she obeys a creature of this earth who unknown to himself contributes by a decree to the accomplishment of the divine plan. By the enrollment of the holy pair their descent from the Royal stock of David is recognized, along with the One who is to be the Savior of the world, the King of all hearts. His coming is imminent, the hour is about to strike. The earth will receive its Savior but the world will not recognize him.

Bethlehem refuses its God a place in which to open his eyes to the light. It refuses shelter to the Mother and her Spouse. Oh, how embarrassed I feel as I consider that on innumerable occasions I have closed the door of my heart to divine inspirations. How many times have I refused admittance to the One who knocked on the door of my heart to reign there as King of love, while I gave way to the most despicable passions. O my soul, what confusion. O Jesus, always abundantly merciful, forgive me. Come and be born again in my soul and remain there forever. If the door resist you, force it open and reign in me for all time. You know the will that wants to possess you absolutely, to love you and be subject to your divine laws. Bring into my cold heart the most ardent love. Set alight in it that fire which you came to spread on earth, so that consumed by it, I may be immolated on the altar of your love, as a Holocaust of love, so that you may reign in my heart and in the hearts of all men and that from all men everywhere may rise up a hymn of praise and blessing and Thanksgiving to you for the love you have shown us in this mystery of Divine tenderness.

O my soul, see the holy pair driven away by all because there is no room, nor any pity for them, no consideration for the state of that gentle Virgin of Nazareth who is about to bring forth the Son of God, the Virgin full of grace who attracts God to her bosom. See how the hearts of creatures remain unmoved as they drive them away. The humble Virgin recognizes the divine plan in all this. She understands and prays for that people which ignobly rejects its God, its Savior. The holy pair leave the town and their eyes fall on a lowly and cold refuge, the only place worthy to receive the One who by the lowliness of his birth wants to show us an example and reveal to us his infinite love for us. He comes down from the heights of heaven to the lowliest place on earth, to a poor stable in the midst of animals. The divine Mother enters into that place adoring the divine plan and with Joseph, her Spouse, she retires to a corner, immersed in deep prayer, in highest contemplation. Her love for the One she bears in her womb inflames her desire to see him, to clasp him in her arms and hold him to her heart. The hour draws near. And you, O celestial inhabitants of heaven, come and receive on earth the One who makes you blessed in paradise. Come and offer him the adoration you pay to him in heaven. Come and gladden the earth what your heavenly songs. Come and illumine with your light the darkness of this holy night. Come and manifest to our souls the love of a God Incarnate. Come, O heavenly court, to render homage to your King, hidden under the semblance of a lowly human being. And you, O earth, rejoice that although your inhabitants reject him, he comes just the same. Impelled by love he hastens his gigantic steps and eats up the path by the ardor of his divine Heart. Love forgets all, forgives all, gives all without reserve, and behold he hastens his coming with the sole desire to suffer and to enrich us with his gifts, with the desire to offer worthy adoration and abundant satisfaction to his heavenly Father, to bring Redemption to mankind and to merit men's sanctification.

He comes forth from his Mother's womb like a ray of light which comes through crystal without marring its splendor and the Angels are there to place him in his Mother's arms. O Mary, tell us what poured from your heart at that moment. Who could penetrate into that furnace of fire? She presses him to her heart, and adores in him her God, her Creator, her All. Love overcomes respect. She sees in him God clothed in flesh because of his love. She beholds him powerless and in need of her support and she adores him as the Omnipotent. She sees him tiny and adores him in his infinite greatness which has abased itself. She sees him poor and adores him as infinitely rich. She contemplates him in his lowliness and recognizes him as sublime and divine. She sees him clothed in mortal flesh and adores him as immortal for all eternity. She sees him born and acknowledges him as the uncreated One of the eternal years, generated from all eternity in the splendor of holiness in the bosom of the Father. On our behalf she adores and loves the One who for love has become a day-old Infant, capable of suffering and dying. The heavenly Child cries and suffers, and perfectly aware of everything, offers to the eternal justice his tears and his adoration. The Godhead receives from earth through the action of the Creator-Creature all the love and glory which made owe to him.

The Word united to humanity adores the Father in spirit and truth. Divine Wisdom with a full appreciation of his meditation, small in exterior form, gives back for us to the Father at that moment all that the creature owes to its Creator.

O God, what a debt of gratitude we owe you. With what great love should our hearts burn for you. With this fire of love we ought to warm those tiny trembling limbs of yours. Your tenderness conquers my heart and I am overcome by your love, O heavenly Child. Let contact with your fire consume me, burn me, reduce me to ashes here at your feet. May I be dissolved by love and extol your goodness and charity.

#padre pio

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jessicafurseth · 1 year ago

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Reading List, Midsummer edition.

"The great revelation perhaps never did come. Instead there were little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark." - Virginia Woolf

There's No Such Thing as Getting Ahead [Rainesford Stauffer, Time]

The sharp scrutiny of midsummer [Katherine May]

On travelling through Tokyo with a 20 year old guidebook [Tom Downey, The New York Times]

Strap in for Rachel Syme's New Yorker profile of Sarah Jessica Parker, the self-proclaimed bitter-ender.

"Most of all, Sex and the City made me want to fuck my way to enlightenment—and I imagine I’m not alone here. The series made casual, spontaneous, often absurd sex with a rotating cast of relative strangers seem glamorous and empowering. I’d watch the show and think: 'Can I really consider myself a modern woman if I haven’t banged a sociopathic investment banker in the bathroom of the hottest restaurant in the Meatpacking District? 'I’d say not. Revisiting the series 25 years on, I couldn’t help but wonder…did Sex and the City' change the way we have sex?" Sex and the City is 25 [Karley Sciortino, Vogue]

"After we break up, I go alone for a weekend to somewhere with autumn sun and a straight ladder from the rocks into the ocean. Because I am without him, I don’t have to arrange my body at flattering angles or consider which foods not to order at dinner if I hope to have sex. There is nothing to try my best for any more." [Emma Forrest, The Guardian]

Bad waitress [Becca Schuh, Dirt]

Meet the influencers going civilian [Sara Ashley O'Brien, Wall Street Journal]

A survey of aspirational vegans found that patience (easing into it rather than going cold turkey) and flexibility (continuing to eat a small amount of animal products when it makes sense) were key to making less-meat diets work. [Ali Francis, Bon Appetit]

"There is resistance to the idea that a pandemic will produce a similar response to other historical disasters, Easthope explains, “but we know it has the same effect. We were in a heightened state of cortisol and adrenaline long-term, checking the news to see what we could do, checking how many in our community had died. Already, we are seeing typical after-effects: increase of respiratory issues, fatigue, exhaustion, depression, rashes, gastric effects.” These are all delayed responses to disaster, she says. Her estimate is that populations begin to recover from major disasters around the 30-year point." ... But: “There is an absence of consensus about what the experience was and what it meant. That, in itself, is almost a reason to argue to just forget about it. There’s certainly a lot of anger and suspicion, and that has really divided people." "My anecdotal research suggests that it’s no longer fun or sexy to mention the pandemic in social situations." [Viv Groskop, The Guardian]

"As far as my playthrough Link is concerned, he’s a foraging chef whom people keep mistaking for some legendary hero. Instead of accepting their challenge to save Hyrule, I humored their delusion that Link has anything to do with their problems in exchange for an upgraded Sheikah Slate and the ability to geolocate beehives." In praise of playing 'The Legend of Zelda' wrong [Alexis Nedd, Mashable]

Parker Posey! [Choire Sicha, Vulture]

Jaya Saxena learns to be a Benihana chef [Eater]

The most important thing I learned from Richard Simmons is you can be ridiculous and significant, silly and a spiritual guide. In search of aerobics guru Richard Simmons [Emma Forrest, The Guardian]

California man finds $10,000 worth of pennies, and now needs to work out what to do with them [Lauren McCarthy, The New York Times]

Never drink red wine with fish, and other food rules you can ignore [Felicity Cloake, The Guardian]

Stitches, the ComiCon for knitting, disappears mysteriously after 30 years [Jonathan Randles, Bloomberg]

Wilder, the podcast reckoning with the legacy of Laura Ingalls Wilder, by Glynnis MacNichol and Emily Marinoff.

#reading list

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summeroffice · 2 years ago

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youtube

00:52 How many interviews have you managed to give this year? What an unexpected question! You know that I love mathematics very much. I'm not calculating how many interviews. How many will be needed until the end of the war, that many I will give. It's important to talk about what is happening, what we are experiencing, what emotions we are experiencing. People should see emotions in the interview. It seems to me that in any interview it's important to clearly show what about you want to speak, that is show facts and materials and then give emotion so that a person would feel what you feel. And third, draw conclusions that must be present in the information space.

2:00 Tell me honestly, are you not tired? (Sighs.) It's a difficult question. I always think that my fatigue compared to what is happening on the frontline, compared to what people who have lost their homes are experiencing, displaced people, 14 million… My fatigue can be compared to the fatigue of a child who has lost their pink elephant somewhere, or a pink plush toy and never sees it. You see, a child who has lost everything, his family, his environment, where he lived, he left for somewhere, he has to start over from scratch, make friends, but parents have lost their jobs, and he doesn't cry.

4:42 What helps you do your work further?

8:09 You spoke about heroes in books, at what moment the hero starts, has it always been there or did this feeling came to you on February 24? You are born with it. It's just a question whether you will have the opportunity to manifest it. I remember the first day of the war, first, second, third. I called many people then, some had their phones turned off, some hid, but there were people who picked up the phone and took on themselves a lot more functions than they had to.

12:22 Where were you on the 24th of February? Well, at home, at 4:30. I live a little outside of the city, and it was difficult to get here because people travelled out of the city in a westerly direction. By 7:30 I was already in the office.

19:07 references 'the legendary book' by Francis Fukuyama, might be "The End of History and the Last Man": It would probably be interesting for him now to write a book "The Return of History".

25:11 What is your role within this historical process? Moderation. My role in this regard is just to explain the war, explain why this war must develop correctly, why we still have to go through each stage despite the heavy price we pay, what needs to be done at this stage of war in order to get positive further bonuses that will allow us to properly finalize the war. Besides that, my task is still try to unanimously lead the needs of Ukraine in the external market, in the domestic market, try to answer difficult questions, try to understand these questions in advance and accordingly, help the president of the country to understand and lead the discussion on different panels. Because during the information era, if you are silent, you have lost. If you are silent and do not explain the motives of your actions, you have lost.

28:28 If we return to those people who turned off their phones on February 24, how did you decide that you would be in your place until the end? I have no choice. I have a memory of my parents, I have a family, I have an understanding that children cannot look at their last name if dad refused to take responsibility at a difficult moment. I think that the word is good but if you say the words, you must act accordingly. If you want your child who is looking at you to believe that you are what you tell him, you have to be like this.

From the first hour I called many people and many on the very first day decided to take up arms and go fight. If you are not ready to take responsibility, it means that you are not ready to be responsible for your family, your home, your country. That is, you will always be a fugitive, a cowardly fugitive who will say, there's nothing that I could have done. You have to live in a way that after you are gone your children would understand who you were. He wipes his cheek; I can't tell if he's crying.

32:29 He asks for permission to interrupt: Classical Russian culture is in the past. It is not used in Russia right now. Russia voluntarily abandoned Shostakovich, Prokofiev, Chekhov because they don't understand it, they didn't consume it. Because if they had consumed it, like a person who comes to the theatre, reads a book, listens to music, Russia would be different.

35:38 Mykhailo, it is obvious from your rhetoric that you're a statesman. But if you look at your biography it says that you were a journalist for a long time who worked in opposition publications. How did you make this decision for yourself? Why did you decide to go where you are now? Professional journalism involves deep understanding of topic, understanding of what and how it works, why it should work this way and what mistakes can be corrected if you clearly state them, if you clearly draw attention to them. Professional journalism allows the system to mature, the state to become more objective, more transparent, more effective. And it was very important for me that, I explain how I ended up in this place, the formation of another type of state began in Ukraine. Ukraine, unfortunately, for a long time did not believe that it was absolutely and fundamentally different from Russia.

So when the frame of another type of state started to form I also wanted to take a part in the moderation of these processes of creating a transparent state. The motive is simple, very simple. I want my family to live in a country that is comfortable for maximum living, that guarantees security, guarantees the possibility of career growth, guarantees the possibility of obtaining a quality education, guarantees fair relations in all areas of social, economic, political life, that is integrated into a common European space that allows you to travel to other countries and so on. There is no point in thinking about money or career if you build it strategically wrong.

So you came to change the system from inside? Who changes systems? Who makes them the way they are? Specific people do it. There's a legendary phrase with which you need to fall asleep and wake up, Не боги горшки обжигают (it is not gods who make pots). Take it and do it. That is, everything is actually much simpler than we imagine, take it, come and do it. You can do it, just do it, only understand what you're doing, and do not love yourself in the process.

I came here not to be public. It's the war that makes you public, because sometimes you need to take on other functions that you would not want to perform in peacetime. And I'm not the only one who took these functions upon myself. Systems will be arranged differently because you specifically came to make a specific mechanism within this system, or a part of the mechanism. You can correct it. It does not mean specifically me, any person if he understands his role, function and place can do it.

42:58 I can't help but ask you about your friendship, if you can call it friendship, with Oleksiy Arestovych, does it interfere with work and how you divide the workspace and the space of human communication? Interesting question. In general, I have a detached attitude towards personal relations. I believe that there are personal relationships, they are important, they are important to me but there are functional relationships that are a priority in terms of the situation that we are in. For me there is a rule, that is, a person should be effective in his place, especially if he's public, he has to be twice as effective, and accordingly there are big requirements for what and how you do in this or that place.

And here friendship is absolutely not a mark for me to criticise harshly enough often. It will of course not happen in public. Because you understand, we all are not ideal, we make mistakes, we may not understand certain processes to the end or deeply understand. It is necessary to correct it, to discuss it. So for me there is no concept, friend or not, if we are discussing functional things, then I am absolutely neutral towards anyone with whom I work because I believe that it does not matter who and what and how in personal relationships. What matters is the fact that the state must obtain competence from you specifically at your workplace and these are completely different processes.

If I need to discuss something with someone in a friendly way, it will be outside of work as such. But if you are at work performing certain functions, please correct mistakes in time, constantly improve your apparatus of thinking from the point of view of understanding the depth of one or other problem, don't love yourself. I always come back to this because people who are really passionate, charismatic, know how to speak well, they at some moment start to love themselves.

I constantly say, look, there is no I, there is us, there is the state. If there is I, then these are separate private projects, go on, you can sell yourself and so on and so forth. But the state needs not 'Oh how cool I am' but it needs you to wake up every morning and do routine work. In the state there is routine. No publicity, no activity, but routine, that is, operational routine. You have to do it because questions always come back in a circle and you have to decide these questions again all the time. It does not happen that you already learned to solve these problems so they should be solved by somebody else.

46:28 A question about your workplace, if you allow. Please excuse me if this is a question that's too personal (he smiles), you often go on air from this office, and you have a lot of books around. Can you tell what kind of books you have and what your workspace is like? Well, here I have a round table at which important discussions are held, here I have a fairly large amount of papers, after all, we have not yet digitalised everything, certain things come that need to be studied, discussed by people in different ministries, departments, they come so that I understand how much we are in one information space, how much we understand issues the same way. The office of the president is a moderation centre first after all, we must understand how the state institutions are really synchronised in terms of understanding a particular task, how they need to be solved.

Of course I have books, the last one on the desk is a multi-volume book about Hryhorii Skovoroda. I periodically have to read important texts, fundamental texts after all, but as a rule I have been using books for a long time in digital form which I buy and use on my iPad because it is much more convenient to just walk around with one little book and be able to read the creative thoughts of the whole world.

Yes, we are here almost all the time, I mean that there are a lot of meetings, interviews to give. Well, I have already somehow used to this, I think it's an important place.

48:07 Is this the amount of information with which you work every day? There is more information every day, not everything is on paper, not everything comes in on one day, because a lot of it comes in digital form right now. My favourite ministry, I can even say directly that it is the ministry of digitalisation, one of the most successful in my opinion and meeting the needs of modern ministers is Mr Федоров, a unique manager on a global level, a person who will draw Ukraine into digital era much faster than other countries, who will make it as comfortable as possible for the exchange of documents and information. So Федоров, in my opinion, believe me, is a person who is a perfectionist in terms of performing his functions. He is not only a man in his right place, he's twice of that and I am very glad that in addition to President Zelenskyy we also have ministers who are unique and with great potential. Федоров is one of them.

49:12 I have a simple question, how do you manage all this? Do you have days off, free time, how much you sleep in a day if it's not a secret. Days off and holidays in principle you can't have. Sometimes I make a pause for an hour or two to read a book. It allows you to switch, by the way, not only some kind of book needed for work but also creative, I mean fictional books, or listen music. Sleep? I have always preferred to sleep very little, 3-5 hours, not more. I do not really need it in terms of rest.

The president is at the workplace all the time, he is constantly in the working mode. He may always require this or that answer to a question, require information, require discussion since he needs to make a decision very quickly. And there are a lot of those. He's an operational president, you know, he not only determines the strategy, he's also an operator who often tries to deeply understand problems. So one needs to be here all the time, update the information in order to be useful as much as possible at your workplace.

51:37 Do you have plans for after the war? What would you like to do when Ukraine wins and when you have the first day off? It's a difficult question. It seems to me that no one can have plans for after the war, but after the war we will have to go through a great internal tragedy, realising how many cool guys paid the highest price for this war. We will have to go to their families, meet them, talk to the children of the dead heroes.

You think about how to conduct effective negotiations. How to effectively explain why Ukraine needs this or that in terms of weapons. Support your people. There's one plan that's very important, Ukraine has to win, Ukraine must endure it, then we will simply walk the streets, meet relatives, meet relatives of those who died, pity each other, cry with each other, talk to each other.

#mykhailo podolyak #nino rosebashvili #Youtube #interview

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zukkaoru · 2 years ago

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Hi Grace!! I saw you rb the post about asking about your OCs and I’ve been curious about them for a while! What is your OCs’ world like (or is it our world)? What are their personalities like? What do they do in their world/story? I’ll probably think of better questions later but I’m curious about whatever you want to share about them!

HI ELI okay okay so this world has been like. in the making since 2017 so there is. a lot of lore skdhsjjk

so basically they live in our world and the central setting for the story is the area i grew up in, except i changed all the names of the towns and stuff. roseglen is literally my hometown but with a different name not all of the characters actually live in roseglen bc it's small and there are several slightly bigger towns surrounding it but roseglen is like. where the heart of the story takes place because that's where roseglen grace brethren church (rgbc) is, which is Very important to the story.

basically, the main four characters (Thia, Iz, Logan, and Max) grew up going to rgbc and when they were young, they always sort of believed the church was haunted. as they grow up, they start to drift apart - Iz's family moves to California, Max's family moves to Willow Lake (about an hour away), and after rgbc gets a completely new building and pastor, Thia's family ultimately starts going to a different church. but then, winter break of their junior year of high school, all four of them end up running into each other at the rgbc christmas eve service and there's this Moment. where they're all out in the lobby for various reasons as the service is still going on in the sanctuary. and as soon as they recognize each other, they have this like. flashback where for a second, it looks as if they're standing in the old rgbc building.

and then the moment breaks when two other characters (Joy, Logan's gf at the time, and Francis, one of Logan's friends) come out into the lobby and are like. hm we're interrupting something. aren't we? and then i think Iz and Logan end up getting into a fight bc Iz was very protective of Thia and made Logan promise to like. look after her. and Logan absolutely did not do that 👍

(continued under the cut)

so anyway, Iz, Thia, and Max start to reconnect and Francis ends up joining them bc he's also friends with Max. and they start talking about how that flash to the old building during the christmas eve service wasn't the first time most of them have experienced something like that - it's happened to Iz and Max a few other times and Thia's been like. actively encouraging it and just spending some time (presumably in her mind) in the old building. it's actually Logan who figures out that this isn't like. imaginary in their mind stuff; their souls are actually travelling back in time to the old building.

remember how they thought rgbc was haunted?

the ghosts weren't true ghosts. the ghosts were them.

so then they have to figure out how to replicate all of the hauntings of their childhood and they meet Time, who explains why this is happening and offers to help (..sort of. Time is an interesting character) and so they have like. less than two weeks (until winter break ends and Iz and Max have to go back home) to fulfill Time's desires in order to restore their memories so they can make sure the past happens as they remember it and nothing changes. Iz's ex-girlfriend also makes an appearance at one point, flying from California to Indiana just to bring Iz something they need (and the two of them end up getting back together at some point as well,,)

As for the characters:

Thia Wells is generally perceived as very nice and quiet and on the shy side. she mostly keeps to herself and her friends from church. in her last months at rgbc, everyone sort of just. stopped caring about her and she always felt left out at youth group and stuff despite having been going to rgbc since she was born and knowing everyone in the youth group for quite some time. she likes tea, baking cookies, reading, and she's also very stuck in the past.

Logan Murphy is your typical white cishet high school student. he plays basketball, he's the only one of the main four who still goes to rgbc, he's just trying to make it through school and probably has minor depression but thinks everyone is just Like That. he has to get some sense knocked into him by the others and Joy actually ends up breaking up with him bc he's homophobic towards Iz but he gets better!! he doesn't get back with Joy but that's bc they were never going to last anyways

Iz Groves moved to Los Angeles with their parents when they were in middle school. they're in marching band and they have quite a few friends - both through band and because they're a sociable person. they're also hard of hearing. i don't actually remember the backstory i decided on but i think they were just born with a lower level of hearing and it's slowly deteriorated as time goes on - they'll probably end up being completely Deaf at some point in their adult life. they have hearing aids but don't always wear them bc they are. uncomfortable. they're fluent in ASL and their closest friends know enough to hold basic conversations. Thia was close to being fluent but lost some of it when Iz moved bc she had no reason to practice anymore. Kelly is pretty close to fluent as well.

Max Newman moved to Willow Lake with his family about a year and half after Iz moved. he's suffering from pretty major depression, but at the beginning of the story, his parents don't really believe him. most of his friends are online friends, but he works with sound/lights for the theatre program at his high school, so he has a couple friends there. he's also very very in the closet at the beginning bc his dad is. pretty homophobic lol. and he was also made fun of for seeming gay in elementary school so there's this sort of idea of "i can't be that" that also stops him from accepting himself. he has an older sister who goes to college in New York so being alone after she left also has a pretty major impact on him

Joy Summers appears to be a stereotypical popular girl that all the boys want. she's blonde, she's pretty, she's a cheerleader. Thia hates her at first because she seems like she's literally Perfect. (like. teruhashicore tbh) at the beginning of the story, she is also having struggles with her sexuality AND she's a prophet. so she keeps having scarily realistic dreams of things that actually end up happening! and she has no idea what to do bc like.. who would even believe her? she dates Logan for a bit and then they break up bc they realize they felt like they were Supposed to date but really they're better off being friends

Francis Brooks is probably one of the most popular kids in the entire school. not because he tries to be, but because he's very very sociable and extroverted so he's just. friends with almost everyone. Logan is his closest friend and i had a revelation in the middle of the night back in 2017 at some point that this is because Francis has a crush on him. Francis is gay and he knows this and he also plans on telling absolutely no one until after he's graduated high school and maybe college as well. he's also on the basketball team, and he's friends with Joy. Joy likes him (as a friend) because he's one of the few boys who doesn't seem to be wanting to get close to her just for a shot at dating her.

Kelly Reyes is Iz's ex, though she ends up getting back together with them. She's lived in LA her whole life and she likes to make people think she's very put together when she's. really not. she's really good at math, not so much at english, and she has a lot of acquaintances but very few true friends. her mom is an english teacher so she kinda feels like she's disappointing her mom with her english grades even though her mom really just wants kelly to be trying her best. she's a very loyal person if she's close to you (see: flying to Indiana from LA in the middle of winter to hand deliver something so it doesn't get lost in the mail)

hm anyway this got very long and there is SO much more i could say but these are the basics so i will stop here skdhsjgk thank you very much for the ask eli this was very fun and i love these kids so so much <3

#there are a lot more minor characters i could ramble about too.. max's sister. thia's friends. francis' siblings. joy's brothers.#this universe is very involved. which makes sense given that it's been rotating in my mind for 5+ years now #anyway thank you so much for the ask!!#eli tag #asks #haunted #gonna rb this to roseglenverse as soon as i go remind myself of my tagging system over there lol

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nomadicpuppeteer · 5 months ago

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Some of my Creative Roots

On June 9, 1924, a kind, multi-talented, selfless, handsome, mild-mannered, compassionate, loving man by the name of George Francis Montgomery Matthew, was born in the Parish of Saint John on the charming Island of Antigua in the British West Indies. George Matthew was a self-taught radio operator, skilled dental technician, inventive jeweler, loyal husband, loving father, reliable brother, genuine friend, and my maternal grandfather. He passed away in Antigua when I was a child, leaving me with vague but heartfelt memories of his presence.

Over the course of time, I've become increasingly curious about my ancestry. Ancestry.com has provided me with valuable insight into my ethnic roots, but I am equally as curious about my creative roots. My mom's side of the family consists of visual artists, musicians, craftsmen, and performers. I would love to trace my family's creative roots as far back as possible but, for now, I am content with knowing about my grandfather's many talents.

My grandfather was one of very few people who knew morse code on the island of Antigua. Self-taught, he worked at the airport as a radio operator. He was also a master typist. I guess this explains where I get my 77 word per minute typing ability. He initially learned how to be a skilled dental technician via a distance learning course in England. After his studies, he got further training from some of the top dentists on the island.

He owned his own dental technician lab called Matthew's Dental Lab in Saint John's. He was a master at crafting dentures, selflessly passing his skill on to one of his sons, a nephew, and a friend. To this day, people travel from all ends of the island for dental services at Matthew's Dental Lab.

One of my favorite pieces of jewelry as a child was a bracelet my grandfather made for me. He created beautiful jewelry for family and friends to cherish as we do his memory. George Francis Montgomery Matthew was indeed a multi-talented man, and most importantly, he left a legacy of compassion and creative inspiration for generations to come.

#artist #jeweler #family #ancestry

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wantsusdead · 8 months ago

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It took two days until the redhead received a reply to his Brighton letter; by now he was feeling as though his body was starting to thaw as a result of being able to fully relax in what must have been months if not years. It was as if his whole figure had been frozen on the arctic ice itself and it was only now that he was back in England that his body began to defrost.

His muscles ached all over and after the first night of sleeping like a dead man, he found he was suffering from insomnia; unable to sleep more than an hour or two before waking again. James (Ross) had insisted on Francis seeing his physician, one of the best in London no doubt. He had given the captain a thorough physical examination, pointing out the damage that Francis was already fully aware of; the effects of lead poisoning, starvation, frost bite, missing teeth, among other minor cuts, bruises, and neglect. Some of these would heal in time, others would have a lasting affect for the rest of his life.

Still, it was the mental toll that the redhead knew would always be the biggest scar he would wear. Thankfully, the doctor was able to prescribe something to help him sleep; the redhead was cautious to use the first drug offered as he had heard many horror stories of men becoming addicted to such substances. After his own experience with alcohol, he was sceptical taking something that could lead to further reliance. Instead, he asked for something milder; this the doctor prescribed without further argument and Francis returned to the house to the letter waiting for him.

He all but ran to his room, trying not to draw the attention of the passing servants as he went. Shutting the door, he opened the envelope eagerly and read it as he sat at his desk. Blue eyes looked up from the page as he considered in the first paragraph. He couldn’t help a small smile forming on his lips. I cannot be at peace without you. Francis felt the same. He was glad his friend’s feelings mirrored his own. Reading on he was delighted to find that there was a room waiting for him in William Coningham’s household and he didn’t take a moment before he was writing his reply.

Dear James,

It is with great pleasure that I accept the offer of a room, though I do not wish to impose on your brother’s kindness for too long. I have explained to my hosts my intentions to travel to Brighton on Thursday morning and should arrive by nightfall. Ross has proposed that he accompany me but I insisted that the journey would do me good. I have not travelled by train in I don’t know how long, having travelling to Buckinghamshire via carriage, which I do not recommend.

I have seen a physician who told me what I already know about my ailments; though they are not as severe as your own. I have been given a tonic to help me sleep. I do hope you have been seen to, though I realise you are already painfully aware of your maladies. I hope they can give you more relief than me and the good doctor were able to.

I shall count the hours, Francis. He thought of the line in James’s letter.

As I write, it will be five days and eight hours until we are reunited. By the time you receive this letter it will be four days etc. I await your reply to confirm Thursday as the date and look forward to making my way to Brighton soon.

Your Francis.

Yours,

Francis.

with his family in town for the day, james is able to sleep in—past breakfast, nearly through to lunch—and wander the house without dressing. he might even have fooled himself into thinking this a presentable state, in years past: a handsome silk robe and house shoes in a matching pattern, his hair unfixed, his face not yet tight with alertness. now he passes mirrors without a swell of pride, but the thought that he looks terribly old.

choosing not to call upon the house’s help to fetch anything for him, james starts tea and enjoys his solitude, picking bites from the unfinished meal at william’s place at the table. eventually, he drags himself to the front of the house to collect the post, then angles himself prematurely toward the den to deposit the lot of it on his brother’s desk.

‘francis,’ he sees then, and the kettle screams.

in a flurry of inelegant movement, james makes it back to the kitchen for his tea, turns for the den a second time, and sits heavily at william’s desk, breathless and mildly burnt. he plucks the letters from his robe pocket and separates his one from his brother’s few, slicing through the seal without a second wasted.

he reads the signature no fewer than six times, wondering if he’s seen it before in correspondence with friends. mockingly, perhaps, from dundy. ‘always yours.’ had william mentioned this in his unsent letters, referencing something lovely elizabeth had said? is it an innocent phrase—common but forgotten—which james alone wishes to take as a promise?

dear francis,

come now. don’t delay. i cannot bear another minute apart from y—

james crumples and tosses this attempt in the direction of the dying fire, both as a reminder to himself to stoke it and to burn the sorry evidence. he dips his pen and starts again.

dear francis,

my greatest relief was in seeing you returned, whole and healthy, so you must forgive me for the contradiction. surely this will not afflict me for the rest of my days, but i find i cannot be at peace without you unless i am certain that you are as well.

once more, forgive me—i know it uncouth to leave any topic of your letter unanswered, however, i should like to discuss james clark ross and lady jane franklin face-to-face, if you can bear to wait.

across the hall from mine, there is a vacant bedroom. with the window open, one can hear and smell the sea, which i cannot by my lonesome stomach. perhaps you will fare better.

i shall count the hours, francis.

yours, james

#gildedlife #i will skip to him arriving next

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queenshelby · 3 years ago

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The Policeman’s Daughter – Part Three

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warning: Mention of Assault and Sexual Abuse, Mention of Suicide, Murder, Fluff, Slow Burn Smut, Drugs

Words: 5,245

Please comment, like, engage if you like it xo 😘

Shelby Company Limited, Birmingham, 17 September 1924

At around 10 o’clock that day, Tommy had a meeting with Moss, Michael and Arthur at his office in order to ensure that the plan he had hatched in the previous two days came to fruition.

‘So, we are all good for the rallies this evening?’ Tommy asked as Moss, Michael and Arthur sat down with him in the conference room.

‘All this for a fucking woman, eh?’ Arthur asked, causing Tommy to chuckle. Of course, he had more than one motive for organising extensive rallies across Birmingham. Sure, he wanted to see you but he also needed to get a shipment of cocaine out of the city unnoticed.

‘The rallies are going ahead as planned. All but three policemen will be dispatched and busy breaking up the fights’ Moss explained before handing Tommy a list of names of policemen who had recently joined the force.

‘All but three, eh?’ Tommy asked surprised, causing Moss to nod. ‘Are you sure that this list complete?’ Tommy then went on to ask, noticing that none of the men on the list carried the same surname as you.

Moss nodded again before breaking some more news to Tommy.

‘Three of the men have been called into London, investigating a few killings. You may have heard in the news this morning that a High Court Judge had been killed last night’ Moss explained.

‘I’ve heard’ Tommy said before taking a short pause while reading over the list again. ‘Can you tell me who the three men are’ Tommy then went on to say while pointing at the list. In his mind, it was unusual for local coppers to be called to a different district and the killing of the judge was going to be a high-profile case, unsuitable for most small-town policemen to investigate.

Moss was quick to highlight the three names for Tommy before taking his payment and leaving the office just as requested by Tommy.

‘I need you to find out about these three men. Where they have transferred from and why they are here. Get me their addresses and see if they have any skeletons in their closet, eh’ Tommy said, handing the list to Michael.

‘Why?’ Michael asked, unsure about Tommy’s motives.

‘If these men investigate a murder of a judge in London, they aren’t just coppers’ Tommy explained before confirming with Arthur that he has dealt with the security guards at your property.

‘Blackmailed them and paid them Tommy. Just as you ordered’ Arthur confirmed and it was at this point that Tommy called the end of the meeting, allowing Michael and Arthur to get on with their business.

Just as Arthur and Michael left the office, Tommy’s secretary Lizzie walked inside, asking Tommy to sign off on some of the paperwork she had prepared for Shelby Company Limited.

Without acknowledging her, Tommy read the paperwork and signed it. As usual, his thoughts were elsewhere and it wasn’t until Lizzie asked him about his plans for the evening that he acknowledged her.

‘Would you like me to stay back this evening Tommy?’ Lizzie asked while she seductively ran her hand over one of his upper thighs all the way towards his crotch.

‘I’ve got plans this evening Lizzie’ Tommy quickly responded, removing her hand from his thigh while signing the last piece of paper she had given him.

‘It’s been a while since we’ve fucked’ Lizzie then said, looking at Tommy with her dark eyes.

‘It has’ was all he responded with before clearing his throat and getting on with business matters.

Your Residence, Birmingham, 17 September 1924

Meanwhile, earlier that day, your father had told you that he had business to attend to in London. As usual, he didn’t tell you what this business was about but you expected that it had to do with the killing of the high court judge and the three men who, several years ago, caused you so much pain and suffering.

Your father seemed pleased about their killing when he called in at 10 o’clock that morning, asking you whether you had read the paper. Nonetheless, there would be an investigation and, knowing your father, you knew that he was desperate to know as to who did the killing and, more importantly, why.

When you asked him when he would return, he advised you that he wouldn’t be back until Sunday afternoon and you couldn’t help but chuckle before wishing him safe travels.

At around 7 o’clock that evening, you had a quick bath before picking out your clothes for the evening. You were excited to see Tommy again. But you were also slightly nervous, knowing that you might be spending the night with him.

You had only ever been with one man who was nothing but cruel to you in the end. Intimacy didn’t come naturally to you ever since the night you were hurt and abused.

But you knew that you had to get over all this eventually and, for some reason, you desired Tommy like you never desired any man before. There was something about him that not only made you feel at ease but also attractive and worthy.

He had an aura about him which no one had ever matched and, deep down inside, you knew that you both shared struggles no one else could comprehend.

When you told him about the night your life changed for the worse and your thoughts about ending your own suffering many times in the past, he told you that he understood how you felt.

He told you about France, he told you about the death of his wife and how, on many occasions, he didn’t think it was worth it to carry on like this.

But, he had a son he loved and cared for and assured you that, one day, you would have someone who makes life worth living for.

Of course, you wanted him to be right and, until then, you were determined to try and enjoy life and indulge on what was at offer.

‘Fear nothing Love. Everything after is extra’ was what Tommy had said to you when you told him that you had nearly died that night. And he was right, everything after was extra.

With these thoughts running through your mind, you slipped on some nice lingerie, a nice dress and applied a generous amount of make-up.

At exactly 8 o’clock, you heard a car pull up in front of the property and you looked around for the guards who, miraculously, had disappeared.

You quickly put on your coat, grabbed your handbag and walked outside into the cold autumn air. Without second thoughts, you walked to Tommy’s car and, as soon as you opened the door and sat down in the passenger seat, he pulled you close for a kiss. You didn’t even get a chance to greet him before his lips were firmly connected to yours.

His lips were warm and soft, just as you remembered and you immediately parted your lips, allowing his tongue to enter and explore. His hands were caressing your face as he kissed you for what felt like an eternity.

‘You look beautiful’ he eventually said, quickly gazing over you after your lips drifted apart before putting the car into gear and driving off.

‘How did you know that my father would be going to London?’ you then asked without worrying about where Tommy was taking you.

Without answering your question immediately, Tommy swallowed harshly, realising that your father must be one of the men he asked Michael to research which, yet again, would pose another hurdle for him and you.

‘I didn’t know that he was going to London but I did know about some rallies in Birmingham tonight, keeping all the coppers busy. I was certain that he would have to work’ Tommy explained before asking you for your father’s name.

‘It’s James and he will be in London all weekend’ you smirked, causing Tommy chuckle.

‘All weekend, eh?’ Tommy said while realising that none of the three men on Moss’s list who were travelling to London were named James.

‘Are you alright Tommy?’ you then went on to ask as you became to notice how quiet Tommy had gotten after you told him about your father.

‘Yes Love, there is just some business on my mind’ Tommy explained before changing the topic.

‘Since your father is gone for a while longer than I had expected, how would you like to spend the weekend with me at my house?’ Tommy then went on to ask before realising that this might make you uncomfortable after what you had told him the last time you saw each other and, before you could answer, he qualified his proposal. ‘Separate bedrooms of course and you are free to leave whenever you choose’ he added quickly, taking your hand and running over it gently while trying to concentrate on the road.

‘I would love that Tommy’ you answered equally quick while your hand searched for his thigh.

Tommy’s Residence, Birmingham, 17 September 1924

After a thirty-minute drive filled with interesting conversations, you finally arrived at Tommy’s house and, when he pulled up in the driveway, you were speechless.

‘How many people do live here exactly?’ you asked while looking at the large mansion.

‘Just me, my son Charles and some maids’ Tommy said as he parked the car and before walking around it, opening the door for you like a gentleman.

‘Right’ you said, clearly lost for words.

‘Common. It’s warmer inside’ Tommy said with a warm smile as he reached for your hand.

As soon as you walked into the door, you were greeted by one of the maids who took your coat and provided Tommy with a list of messages received via phone during the day.

Tommy quickly skimmed over the list and decided that he had to make a quick phone call before he would join you in the reading room.

You were impressed by the decoration in the house, looking around and into each and every direction while Tommy’s maid Francis walked you to the reading room.

‘Miss, would you like a glass of wine, or champaign perhaps?’ Francis then asked and you quickly shook your head, thanking her for her offer.

From the reading room, you could hear Tommy talking to someone in quite a firm tone and you began to wonder how he came into possession of such wealth and position of power as a gypsy.

While you waited for Tommy to return, you walked around the reading room, looking at the books and artwork and, just as you did, a young boy walked inside wearing pyjamas.

‘Hey, you must be Charles’ you said with a friendly voice and the boy nodded shyly.

‘Are you one of the new maids?’ Charlie asked and you quickly shook your head just as Francis walked in behind him.

‘No running away, remember’ Francis said and, just as she did, Tommy finished his phone call and quickly gave Charlie a hug before telling him that it was time to go to bed.

You said goodbye to Charlie and couldn’t help but marvel about the fact that he looked just like Tommy.

‘You are very lucky. He is a beautiful young boy’ you said just after Francis carried Charlie to bed.

‘I am sure you will be just as lucky one day, eh’ Tommy said before pouring you glass of whiskey which you chose to decline.

‘I cannot have children’ you explained, holding your stomach momentarily and, immediately, Tommy sat down next to you and took you into his arms.

‘I am sorry’ he said quietly as you leaned against his shoulder.

‘It’s alright. I made peace with it a long time ago’ you said, still glancing around to take in the artwork and décor.

‘Now, tell me, what is it that you do’ you said, looking into his deep blue eyes.

‘Lots of things’ Tommy responded before pressing his lips onto yours.

‘Lots of things? Right’ you giggled before asking Tommy how he managed to get the security guards your father had employed to turn a blind eye on you leaving that evening and not returning to your home until Sunday.

‘I paid them a substantial amount of money’ Tommy said bluntly.

‘You paid them?’ you asked with surprise and Tommy nodded. ‘Yes, I paid them. Like most things these days, their loyalty was for sale’ Tommy said with a cheeky smile.

‘You know, it seems to me that everyone does what you tell them to do’ you then said, biting your lip as you did.

‘Perhaps’ Tommy then said with a chuckle before causing you to lean against him.

As you did, you could his heart pound and smell the scent of his aftershave. It was divine and you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around him tightly.

As you held each other close, Tommy gently kissed the top of your head causing you to feel relaxed a little more.

‘Did you want to get some rest? I had Francis prepare one of the guest rooms for you’ Tommy said as he noticed how quiet you had gotten. But the truth was, you simply enjoyed his closeness, his smell and listening to the sound of his beating heart.

‘No Tommy. I also don’t want to stay in the guestroom’ you said shyly but with a slight smirk on your face as you looked up into his deep blue eyes.

‘Where do you want to stay then, eh?’ Tommy smirked, his voice low and gentle, as his hand was slowly feeling down your side, causing your heart to skip a beat when his fingertips brushed against the side of your breast.

‘I thought I could stay in your bedroom…with you’ you said shyly as your eyes met again and he smiled warmly at you, as if he was assuring you that he wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want him to do.

‘I think that could be arranged’ Tommy said before kissing you gently as his fingers continued to traverse your body, slowly walking onto your thigh.

You watched his hand intently after you lips parted from his, feeling frozen like a doe in the headlights but still safe and secure somehow.

You knew that he would stop if you asked him to, so there was no harm in enjoying the pleasant sensations.

You scooted a little closer to him, looking into his eyes with your head on his shoulder and smiling up at him. He had such amazing eyes. And hands. One of which slowly smoothed down your thigh ever so gently.

Your breath caught in your throat as those fingers delicately brushed up your inner thigh and you lifted your head to say something, but you didn’t know what. Your body begged him continue but your mind fought it.

He whispered softly, his lips brushing against your ear and his warm breath causing little goose bumps on your neck. ‘If you would like me to stop, let me know’ he said and your lips quivered as you tried to make a decision.

Logic was fighting a losing battle against libido. You had never been touched this way, not even by yourself and the man you had been with in the past was far from being gentle.

Your internal monologue was shattered when he finally reached beneath your skirt slowly and gently. You leaned into him and buried your face in his neck to stifle a whimper as two more fingers joined the first, casually stroking your through your panties. He smelled wonderful too.

Your body moved seemly with a mind of its own as your hips rising gently with each soft caress of those wonderful fingers. His other hand joined in, his fingertips caressing your cheek and playing across your neck. You couldn’t focus on anything more complicated than that thanks to the stimulation down below and the warmth of his fingers moving along the V of your blouse.

You quivered with desire from his manipulation, one hand now running over your breast and the other dipping his fingers just feeling along the edge of your panties. You looked up at him as he leaned towards you, his lips slowly moving towards yours but teasingly sliding along your cheek instead to whisper in your ear again.

‘Would you like to continue this in my bedroom?’ Tommy asked and you mumbled something in the affirmative.

Tommy smiled at your shyness and took your hand and helped you to your feet. You held onto him for support, your legs still shaky from the experience. He gallantly gave you his arm and you held onto it as you left the reading room and made your way upstairs to Tommy’s bedroom.

When you arrived in his bedroom, Tommy guided you all the way to the front of his large bed which is where he stood before you, reaching out to gently caress your cheek.

You smiled softly and looked at him through half-closed eyes, leaning your face against his hand slightly.

‘I am nervous Tommy’ you shuddered.

‘We don’t have to do anything Y/N’ Tommy said reassuringly.

‘I want to. I just don’t know if I am ready to go all the way…you know’ you said nervously, biting your lip again as you did.

‘We won’t. Just let me make you feel good, eh’ Tommy said gently as he winked at you and you literally had no idea what he meant by that, but nodded anyway.

Tommy then trailed his fingertips down your arm before he kissed you again gently. But this time, his lips moved from yours to your shoulder and neck in no time. You felt yourself start to tremble again. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t move. You could barely breathe. All your being was focused on Tommy and you wanted him so badly.

He looked into your eyes with his piercing gaze, placing his hands on your shoulders, whispering softly with his lips almost touching yours.

‘Turn around’ he said and you complied with his request. His hands moved your hair out of the way gently before his lips started to kiss the back of your neck all while his hands started to unzip your dress.

Your dress fell to the floor almost instantly and you stepped out of it slowly before turning around to face Tommy.

You covered your stomach with your hands, covering up your scar as you stood in front of Tommy nervously. Tommy smiled at the sight before him, drawing another blush from you as he traced his finger down the strap and along the edge of the material of your bra, gliding lightly over the gentle swell of your breast.

You stiffened again at feeling a warm gentle touch where you hadn’t let anyone touch you for a long time, but forced yourself to relax and enjoy it.

Tommy then moved your hands away from your stomach gently. ‘Don’t hide it. You are beautiful and I want to see all of you’ Tommy whispered as he traced his finger up your cleavage slowly, drawing a line up along your neck and across your jaw to your chin, tipping your face up to meet his gaze.

He then leaned down and made your head spin by flicking the tip of his tongue along your cleavage. You shuddered and moaned softly, holding onto his shoulders as your knees wobbled under you. You tangled your fingers in his hair as his lips and tongue teased your skin, eventually wrapping around one strap and slowly pulling it down your shoulder, then doing the same to the other. Unsure of how to react but filled with desire, you kissed and nibbled at his neck as he had done with you. He tasted good too. His fingers flicked briefly behind your back and you felt your bra clasp fall open. You let the bra fall and felt your cheeks flush slightly as your breasts were revealed, almost covering them with your hands before remembering what Tommy had told you.

‘Lie down Love’ he then instructed while he took off his vest and shirt, leaving him wearing nothing but his black suit pants.

After he got partially undressed, he joined you on the large bed and, yet again, guided your hands away from covering yourself up and kissed you passionately. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your nervous giggle turned into an elated sigh as he pulled away and, almost suddenly began to trail kisses down your chest and breasts. Your sigh then turned into a moan when his tongue slowly flicked your nipple before mimicked the circular motions of his fingers with his tongue. Your fingers tangled in his hair, your head fell back, your eyes fluttered as he made you feel alive.

You whimpered softly as his lips wrapped around your nipple, tenderly sucking on it and lashing at it with his tongue, fondling your other breast with one hand as the other smoothed down your belly. Following his lead, you felt down his body to find his belt buckle, keeping one arm wrapped around him for fear that you might faint. But, his hand covered yours quickly and placed it back on his shoulder, causing you to eye him curiously.

‘Tonight is about you Love’ Tommy said with a grin and you gasped as he caressed his way down to your hips, softly kissing down your belly. Was he going to kiss you there too you wondered as you watched his progression intently.

You arched your body against his lips as they softly pressed against your belly button and Tommy shifted his hands to brush against your inner thighs, smiling up at you as your body reacted to his touch. He then slipped his fingers under the edge of your panties and pulled them down slowly, letting his touch linger on your long legs. She blushed profusely as you lay there beneath him completely naked, the night air teasing all your sensitive spots.

His hands slowly moved up your legs, gently caressing your thighs before parting them gently.

He traversed your body with agonizing slowness and you tensed as he kissed the inside of your thighs.

He wasn’t really going to kiss you there, was he? You blushed even more and whimpered softly with desire as Tommy traced little circles with his tongue slowly towards your centre until, finally, his face hovered between your legs, pausing to enjoy your arousal.

‘Is it alright if I kiss you there?’ Tommy asked, looking up at you as you twitched at the feather light touch of his lips followed by the hot air of his breath.

‘Are you serious?’ you forced out with a moan.

‘Yeah’ Tommy said with a low voice and you shyly nodded, thinking it was a strange request until, suddenly, his lips touched your wet mound.

‘Oh Jesus’ you moaned at the sensation as he placed gently small kisses over your mound but your moan soon turned into scream of pleasure when, suddenly, Tommy darted his tongue and licked through your slit.

His teasing had already brought you to the brink and you felt like you would explode. What was this feeling, you wondered? It was new and unfamiliar to you.

You inhaled sharply at the pleasure coursing through you as Tommy’s warm tongue traced slowly up your slit and then slowly back down. Your fingers tangled in his hair and you pressed his face between your legs, your whole body seemingly on fire as he licked up and down, moving a little deeper inside you with each pass. He used his soft lips to tenderly nibble on your folds, triggering another incoherent outburst of encouragement. Then he ever so gently pressed his lips to your clit.

Your entire body writhed with pleasure from his touch, fireworks going off in your mind. Slowly Tommy smoothed his tongue over your clit, back and forth, up and down. You moaned loudly, all thoughts gone from your mind save for his tongue. He then caressed your thigh briefly and brought his hand to your slit, where he began to gently glide his finger in and out of you. By this point you let go of his hair and dug your nails into the sheets, shuddering as his finger moved within you. Then he added a second finger and your moans became even louder as he stroked a special spot on each pass, lighting up all of your senses.

‘Oh my god Tommy’ you moaned loudly as, finally, you began to experience your first orgasm, convulsing as the pleasure washed through your like a wildfire.

You were a shaking mess after as little as ten minutes of Tommy pleasuring you with his tongue and finger, crying and whimpering for him. Screaming his name for all the maids in the house to hear.

After you finally came down from your high, Tommy gently withdrew his tongue and fingers from you and rose, kissing his way back up your body gently.

You wrapped your arms tight around him, nuzzling his neck as your body quivered from your experience.

‘You taste fucking amazing Love’ he then grinned, clearly satisfied by what he had just achieved.

‘Really?’ you chuckled, still surprised by his actions. You didn’t realise that anyone does things like that, kissing and licking intimate places like this.

‘Yeah, really’ Tommy smirked before he kissed you again, gently but yet passionately and, as he did, you could taste your juices on his tongue and on his lips.

‘See’ Tommy smirked after your lips had parted and you couldn’t help but giggle.

‘Now can I taste you?’ you asked as you slipped your hand over his crotch, feeling how hard he was, straining against his pants.

‘There is no need Love. I can wait’ Tommy said reassuringly, not wanting to push you farther than you were really prepared to go. It was also obvious to him that you had never done this before.

‘Please’ you then said shyly, raising up over him slightly and he nodded, giving you permission to proceed with whatever you are comfortable with.

You began to place little sucking kisses on his neck, then on his shoulders. Then you began to kiss down his chest, occasionally adding a little lick here and there just as he had done with you. Tommy smiled down at you as your fingers and tongue slowly walked down his body.

Your hands were trembling with anticipation as you unbuckled and unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Then you pulled his pants down along with his briefs and freed his cock. His erection stood proud before you, begging to be touched.

Tommy let out a quiet moan as you reached out and gingerly brushed your fingertip along the head, feeling it respond to your touch. You then began to gently stroke up and down his shaft, watching his expressions to try to find what he liked best. You slipped your finger between your lips briefly to wet it, then drew circles around the head before bringing your mouth down towards his hard member.

Experimentally you extended your tongue and brushed it against the tip, smiling as Tommy let out a sexy growl of approval. You began to circle the head with your tongue, smiling up at him each time you made him twitch or moan. Then you closed your lips around the head of his shaft, hungrily lapping and sucking.

‘That’s it Love, fuck’ Tommy moaned while brushing his hands gently through your hair. He seemed to like this best of all, judging by his growls.

You soon began to taste small amounts of precum which had escaped from his shaft and you were savouring the taste and texture and the pleasure you were giving him.

‘Come up here Love. I am close’ Tommy barely managed to force out after you bobbed your head up and down his shaft for the past ten minutes, your lips closing and sucking around him firmly while your tongue explored every inch of his hardness.

‘Cum in my mouth Tommy’ you demanded while disconnecting your lips briefly, causing Tommy to growl even louder.

‘Fuck’ Tommy growled within seconds, causing you to smile all while you could feel his shaft pulsate inside your mouth.

Then, another few seconds later, he bucked his hips slightly and involuntarily, while, with one loud groan, he began to fill your mouth with his sweet and warm cum.

Another curse word soon escaped him as he let rope after rope of his warm seed flow into you and you were quite surprised by how much there was of it.

After you collected at all in your mouth and Tommy slowly began to come down from his high, you looked up at him with your eyes full of questions.

Unsure about what to do, you swallowed, causing Tommy to groan again briefly as he watched. Quite obviously, it turned him and you were quite satisfied being able to pleasure him the same way he pleasured you.

‘Come here, eh’ Tommy then ordered with a gentle voice and crawled back up on his body and leaned your head against his chest, listening to his still somewhat racing heart.

‘So, people do that kind of stuff’ you huffed out with shy but cute giggle.

‘Yeah’ Tommy chuckled, adoring your shyness in sweetness.

Tommy’s Residence, Birmingham, 18 September 1924

After having explored your sexual desires with Tommy and some more gentle intimacy and pillow talk, you eventually managed to fall asleep at around 11 o’clock with your body pressed firmly against Tommy’s.

Together, you only needed about half the bed as your bodies were intermingled with each other and you loved feeling his closeness.

But, unfortunately for you, it was around 4 o’clock in the morning that yet another one of your nightmares ripped through you, causing you to kick and scream in your sleep.

Your nightmares always felt real, causing you to wake in a state of panic and anxiety.

Just as your dream was worsening and you let out a loud cry, you could hear Tommy’s voice, calm and deep.

‘Y/N, shhh, it’s alright’ you heard Tommy say gently, his hands running through your hair as he held you close just as you woke from your nightmare.

‘It’s just a dream. You are safe, eh’ he said as he held onto you, realising that you were close to having a panic attack.

‘Tommy’ you said with a small cry as your breathing was easing almost immediately.

‘I am here. It was just a dream’ he said again calmly and reassuring before kissing your forehead.

‘I am sorry Tommy. I must have woken you’ you said, looking at him through the dim light of the small lamp which Tommy had left on upon your request.

‘No Love, I have trouble sleeping and I get those too, the nightmares’ Tommy then said as you rested back against him but this time with your eyes wide open.

‘Do you want to go for a walk?’ you then went to ask after a few minutes of silence.

‘Yeah, common. I know just the place, eh’ Tommy suggested with a warm smile and off you went into the cold spring night.

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #Tommy Shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby smut #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #arthur shelby #tommy shelby imagine #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy imagine #michael grey

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watching-pictures-move · 2 years ago

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Movie Review | Emmanuelle: The Joys of a Woman (Giacobetti, 1975)

She’s back, and up to her old tricks! We meet up again with our super sexy swingin’ heroine Emmanuelle, played by the super sexy swingin’ Sylvia Kristel, as she boards a ship to travel to Hong Kong to meet her husband. Only problem is, the ship people fucked up and instead of giving her a first class cabin like she’d bought a ticket for, she’s stuck in the crappy part of the ship (the shithole? my nautical knowledge is nonexistent, I don’t know what the correct name for this is) with all the other poor suckers who got the same deal. Luckily for her (and for us), it’s full of super hot women, who sleep mostly nude and posed seductively in their hammocks, like a ship-themed Playboy photoshoot. Emmanuelle’s neighbour is a glasses-wearing blonde who tells her a story of being raped by three women to explain her attraction to other women. Naturally, this arouses Emmanuelle, who pictures the events described in an almost monochrome scene, and what follows is the first true coupling in the movie. Now, what I’ve described is not, ahem, politically correct, and a lot of this movie will not reconcile to modern politically correct notions, but I do think it’s interesting how it frames the proceedings. All our heroine knows is sex, and everything she does is in the service of sexual desire, so naturally she processes everything in these terms. And because we see the world mostly through her eyes, this sexual aura exists almost as an atmosphere that hangs over the proceedings.

Compared to the first movie, which had as its overall arc Emmanuelle’s discovery of her sexual agency, this one is more episodic, a series of sexy scenes. To the extent that any character has an arc, its the relatively virginal blonde girl who befriends Emmanuelle and her husband, similarly discovering her sexual agency as the story moves to Bali in the last ten minutes. Other than that, we get a male pilot, a friend of the husband, crashing with them for the bulk of the movie. This guy refrains from making it with Emmanuelle, and also sleeps with a propeller in his bed. Now, I know what you’re thinking. There’s a hole in the middle of the propeller that could be used for less than wholesome purposes. But the real reason that he doesn’t sleep with Emmanuelle is because he’s into Asian women, and spends his nights visiting a brothel. When Emmanuelle finally drops by, she’s disguised with a black wig as a Chinese woman. Yes, there’s some weird racial shit in this, which I guess is a natural extension of the racial dynamics in the first movie (based on a book by a Thai woman, yet fetishizing its Thai characters relentlessly). Again, a lot of this is not going to reconcile into modern politically correct notions. What I will say is that the trip to the brothel provides the movie’s best shot, a top-down view of a multiple couplings somewhat reminiscent of a certain sequence in Brian De Palma’s Snake Eyes.

That leads to the best thing about this movie, the visual style. The previous film had an appealing gauzy look that nicely complemented the fantasy angle. This one widens the aspect ratio and renders the colours richer, inkier, so that the atmosphere is decadent, maybe a little drugged out, although nobody partakes in any particularly unusual substances during the movie. When it switches colours, during a number of mostly monochrome sequences, like the aforementioned rape, a fantasy during an acupuncture session (I assume the needles stuck in her breasts did the trick) and the most tenderly shot gangbang I’ve ever seen, the erotic charge is palpable. And both Hong Kong and Bali are captured with a nice travelogue quality. You also get a nice lush, wistful score by Francis Lai, which adds class and style to even the sillier sequences in the movie (like when Emmanuelle watches a smutty cartoon while getting felt up).

I think this movie is also better than the first in terms of the male actors. Unlike Daniel Sarky in the first movie, Umberto Orsini as the husband and Frederic Lagache as the pilot friend are charismatic, good looking dudes who have actual sex appeal. Even though this is obviously intended as erotic fantasy, Kristel and Orsini give their relationship a certain lived in chemistry and make it feel convincing in this setting. And like the first movie, Kristel is an immensely appealing, but this time around she’s more assertive, which is not an unwelcome development. It’s also worth noting that Laura Gemser, who also played Emmanuelle in a bunch of movies, makes a cameo here in a scene where Emmanuelle, her husband and the blonde go to a bathhouse to get massages. Gemser does not make it with Kristel, for the very important reason that if the two Emmanuelles make physical contact, it could mean the end of life as we know it. I’m pretty sure that’s science.

I’m not saying I wasn’t put off by some of what went down in this movie, but I like hanging out with Kristel and spending time in this atmosphere enough that I had a good time with this.

#film #movie review #emmanuelle 2 #emmanuelle: the joys of a woman #francis giacobetti

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melancholycatastrophe · 3 years ago

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fundywastaken royalty au. infodump about it

gladly.

Their Families:

i refuse to use the name "l'manberg" so i made up all the kingdom names. i actually created a map of the Southern Esempi, which is the region where the two kingdoms are found. They're seperated by the Striat di Aria, which connects two oceans and is important for trade routes. The two kingdoms, Thessary and Paeris, have been fighting over control of the Striat di Aria for centuries and only recently signed a treaty to stop conflict along the borders and hopefully become allies.

So Fundy is the crown prince of Thessary and because of his status and his father's over protectiveness, he isn't allowed to leave the castle walls without dozens of guards and he's not allowed to leave the capital city, Alium, at all. The last time he left, he was 12 and it was when the entire royal family left to visit Paeris to sign the treaty. That was when Fundy first met Dream, but thats not important right now.

Philza, Fundy's grandfather, just recently abdicated the throne, so Wilbur, the eldest, is now king. In terms of lines of succession, that means Fundy is first in line, Techno, Philza's second eldest and general of the army, is second in line, and Tommy, Phil's youngest, is third in line. I am not immune to sbi family dynamic in aus. If Fundy was to have a child, they would be next in line after Fundy.

Wilbur doesn't want Fundy to court or even think about marrying anyone yet, not wanting to lose Fundy the way he lost Sally, his wife. But although he's overprotective, Wilbur doesn't pay much attention to Fundy because he has to figure out how he wants to rule Thessary. Suprising no one, Fundy had daddy issues. He finds it unfair that his uncle Tommy gets to do whatever he wants and go wherever he wants and be friends with whoever he wants and Fundy can't. He doesn't really have that strong of a relationship with anyone except Niki, a family friend, and his grandfather.

Dream lives in Iora, the capital city of Paeris, but he's not originally from there. His family has moved around his entire life because they're traveling performers. They stopped at Iora to perform on the day the treaty between the two kingdoms were signed and the royal families saw their perfomances. This is where Dream not only met Fundy, but George, the crowned prince of Paeris, as well. George took an immediate liking to Dream and convinced his father to have Dream train to be his personal knight. This somewhat forces Dream's family to settle in Paeris for the time being.

Dream's family is just the entire Wastaken clan. The eldest and head of the business is Exdee (Dream XD), 2nd eldest and lead performer is Luce (Mamacita), 3rd eldest and in charge of designing props and costumes is Francis, Dream is the 4th eldest, Tom (Notdream123) is the 5th eldest and a gymnast, and Drista is the youngest. They're not exactly human and have connections to a land no one knows exist yet, but this is part of a destiny Dream isn't supposed to know about until much later. Dream has a close relationship with all his family members even tho he doesn't see them often due to living in the castle and having to be around George 24/7 to protect them. He's closest to Exdee mostly because Dream is the next person in the family to be shown his destiny (this will be explained later) and Exdee is protective over them.

Fundy gets to meet Dream's family but Dream never gets the chance to meet Fundy's for...reasons.

#fwt tag #i have a exam in five minutes so i speedran writing this #fwt royals au #fundywastaken

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kikis-writing-world · 3 years ago

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Whiskey Straight - The Spy (6)

Jack Daniels x F!Reader

Something has changed, and Jack can’t quite place what it is. He thinks you’re still upset about the cancelled weekend plans but the more he tries, the more he uncovers. The more he uncovers, the less he likes what he finds. (Jack’s POV)

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Francis/Phil is just the worst (derogatory, myogenetic terms, feelings and conversation about women that we do not support here on this blog) Swearing. Mentions/fantasies of canon-typical violence. Lack of proper editing because I really just wanted to get it out to you guys because you’ve been so wonderful and patient with me!!!! If I missed anything, please let me know!

A/N: Huge, major apologies for this taking so long! On top of hitting a writing funk, I grossly underestimated how long this chapter would be! Because of that, I’ve split it into two chapters. This means Chapter 7 will also be Jack’s POV. Also, this jumps around quite a bit so I hope it’s easy to follow! Divider graphics by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist - Prologue - One - Two - Three - Four - Five - Six - Seven

Tequila pulled the car to a gentle stop outside the house. The lights were off, which wasn’t surprising given the late hour - or was it early? Jack wasn’t sure, the jet lag screwing with his sense of time. All that he knew is he was looking forward to catching a few hours of sleep in his own damn bed.

“Alright big guy,” Colt opened the storage compartment between the two of them, pulling out a stack of papers, handing them to Jack.

“Receipts from your stay in Georgia, including the hotel check-out. You had room service breakfast every morning, but supper only once. Tickets from your flights. A rather large bill when you treated some of the other execs to drinks-”

“Hurry it up, would’ya?” Jack huffed, aching to get out of the car.

Colt rolled his eyes and handed Jack the whole stack, no longer explaining each document. “Fine, take ‘em, but look ‘em over at some point so you know where you were supposed to be the last few days.” He gave in, just as tired as Jack.

“I know where I was supposed to be, but I also know where I wanna be right now.” Jack grumbled as he opened the car door.

“Yeah, where were you then?” Colt challenged.

“Not in Sweden.” Jack shot back with a grin. Tequila glared at him until he gave a better answer. “Work trip in Georgia. I’ll get the particulars later, okay?” He promised as he climbed out of the car with a quiet groan. His muscles were stiff from travel, despite flying over the Atlantic in a private jet.

“You know if you fuck up your cover story, Champ’ll have my ass, not yours, right?” Tequila complained.

“I know.” Jack smirked, closing the door. He opened the backseat, yanking his suitcase out. “See you at debrief.”

Jack closed the car door and started up the walk because Tequila called his name through the open passenger window. He turned around, looking at the younger man in annoyance.

“Forgetting something?” Colt teased, holding up the gold ring that was missing from Jack’s left hand.

“Shit,” Jack cursed, leaving his suitcase on the ground as he jogged back to the car. “Alright, I owe ya more credit than I give.”

“Damn right you do,” Colt laughed, watching as Jack slid the wedding band into place. “Sometimes I feel like I do more to keep your marriage together than you do.”

“Yeah, I’m sure The Missus would agree with you right about now.” Jack huffed, knowing he had to make-up for the cancelled weekend plans.

“You’ll figure somethin’ out.” Colt offered, half-sympathetically. The man was not one for commitment, and he made that known despite his hand in helping to keep Jack in your good graces.

“Hope so.” Jack agreed. “Never get married.” He warned the younger man jokingly.

“Don’t plan on it.” Colt grinned as he put the car back in drive. Jack stood upright, giving the man a wave as the car took off down the street.

He turned towards the house with a sigh. He was dead tired and just wanted to crawl into bed with his wife. Feel you next to him as he slept for a few hours before he was expected at HQ. Even with the bitter taste left in his mouth from the jokes he’d cracked with Tequila about how hard it was to stay married in their line of work, nothing beat the comfort of coming home to find his loving wife, safe and peaceful, waiting for him.

He was quiet as he entered the house. Locking the door behind him, he pushed the past few days from his mind. He let his guard truly down for the first time since he boarded the flight to Stockholm. He did his best to leave Agent Whiskey at the door, slipping back into the role of Statesman Distillery Executive, loving husband and normal, everyday man Jack Daniels.

Things just hadn’t been the same at home since Jack had returned from Stockholm. You had been acting strange and he had blamed it on the cancelled weekend plans. He knew it had bothered you, but he had no idea how much it must have. You were restless as you slept, tossing and turning all night, working late and spending more time out of the house than usual. He asked Tequila for advice to fix it, but his partner just laughed at him.

“I don’t do strings for a reason, Jack.” Colt laughed as the two walked through security one morning. “They get too clingy, too moody, too “you never have time for me anymore,”” he mocked in a high pitch voice. “I cut and run.”

“I think I'm in a little too deep for a cut and run.” Jack deadpanned, not that he considered that an option. “I’ve gotta fix this, but I know I can’t promise a make-up weekend until we wrap up this case.”

“Still in the doghouse, Whiskey?” One of the few female agents, Ginger, asked as she met them outside the elevator to the lower levels.

“Doghouse? Try the pound.” Tequila teased, making Jack frown. “He didn’t notice her new haircut last night.”

Ginger winced, a pained sigh slipping through her lips as she shook her head at Jack.

“I know, I know.” Jack grumbled, holding the door for Ginger to step ahead of him as the elevator doors slid open for them.

“How are you such a good agent in the field but completely oblivious at home?” Ginger asked, making Tequila snicker.

“What do I do here, Ging?” Jack asked. “I’m up the creek without a paddle.”

Ginger sighed, eyes trained on the illuminated numbers as they descended together. “You need to treat her. Surprise her. Show her you’re thinking of her when she’s not expecting you to.”

Jack nodded his head politely at the receptionist as he stepped off the elevator. Charlotte? Charlie? Candy? He could never remember her name. She greeted him with a wave, occupied with a phone call as he passed her by. He passed through the rows of tall cubicle walls, weaving through the paths they created on his way to your desk. He glanced at the large clock hanging on the wall, knowing it was at least 20 minutes before you typically took your lunch. He would surprise you, take you out to lunch, give you the flowers he had waiting in the car. If he was lucky, he could convince you to take the afternoon off with him. It wasn’t anything extravagant, but it was a start in making things up to you. If it worked, he’d definitely be going to Ginger for advice from now on rather than Tequila.

He heard your voice as he approached the last corner separating him from your workspace. The jilted, one-sided conversation led him to believe you were on the phone with someone. Not wanting to interrupt, he leant against the column around the corner, listening for you to be done with your call.

He waited for you to say some kind of salutation, but instead of a good-bye he heard you call over to Sandy, the coworker you knew she worked across from.

“Can you cover for me if I take an early lunch?” You asked quickly, your voice reading excitement. His eyebrows shooting up as he wondered if you’d seen him from his hiding spot.

“Going to meet this mystery man you won’t tell me about?” Sandy asked with a teasing gloat.

Mystery man? Jack thought to himself, frowning deeply and he inched closer to listen.

“I told you, there’s no mystery man.” Your counter had him breathe a sigh of relief. Of course there wasn’t.

“Mmhmm. You’re chipper, you’re glowing, you got your hair done.” Jack winced at the reminder of his latest in the long line of missteps. “There’s a mystery man.”

“I’m happily married, I don’t need another man in my life.”

“You’re married, alright.”

Jack heard the unspoken words Sandy had purposefully left out. He’d gotten along fine with Sandy in their limited interactions, but apparently she wasn’t a fan of his. He didn’t blame her with how awful he’d been recently but… was she right? Was there a mystery man? If anyone would know, he supposed it would be Sandy. She saw you daily, he was sure you aired your grievances to her when you needed to clear your mind about anything bothering you. She was picking up on a happiness within you that Jack had obviously not been the cause of.

Jack left the office before you spotted him, walking numbly back to his bronco. A cyclist shouted at him as he walked blindly in front of him, nearly causing them to collide. He paid the man no attention, too busy trying to convince himself that you weren’t having an affair. He had to know for sure.

Once inside the vehicle, he pressed a series of buttons on the radio, waiting for the line to connect. It only took a moment before the familiar buzz took over the speakers, following Tequila’s voice asking what he needed.

“I need you to pull up The Ring tracker.” Jack explained, voice dull.

“The Ring? Is everything okay?” Tequila asked and Jack could hear him typing away.

“I think… I think my wife might be having an affair.” Jack told him numbly, breaking protocol by bringing you up over the coms.

He heard something clatter on the other end of the line, like Tequila had dropped something at Jack’s admission. It took a moment before he was back on the line. “Are you sure?”

“No. That’s why I need to…” Jack stopped himself from admitting out loud what he was about to do. The tracker he’d placed in your wedding ring was supposed to be for emergencies, for your safety. It was never supposed to be used to follow you, to accuse you of being unfaithful and lying. He felt sick to his stomach, but he wasn’t sure if it was his actions or yours causing it.

“She’s on the move. Heading East on 14th.” Tequila narrated the information from the tracker.

Jack nodded, even though Tequila couldn’t see him, and pulled out of his parking space. He drove, following the directions Tequila was giving him as you travelled the streets. When you finally stopped moving, Tequila was able to give him the exact coordinates.

“What’s there?” He asked, pulling down the street and looking for a parking spot.

“It’s a cafe. It could just be a friend she’s meeting.” Tequila tried to calm Jack’s worries.

“Yeah. It could be.” Jack agreed, although the pit in his stomach was growing.

He could see into the front window of the cafe from his spot, but he couldn’t see you or anyone else familiar. He tapped on the edges of his Statesman issued glasses, zooming in and changing colours until he could see the patrons inside more clearly.

You sat across from a man he’d never seen before. The two of you leaned close to each other as you spoke, clearly speaking privately among the din inside the busy cafe.

“Well? What do you see?” Tequila asked, but Jack ignored him as he focussed on the scene inside. He was trying to come up with all the logical explanations that didn’t lead to you having an affair with the man sitting across from you, but there weren’t many coming to mind.

He watched the blonde man reach for your hand and he expected to watch you pull away, bat him off of you… something. You didn’t.

“Do you think she’d cheat on me, Tequila?” Jack asked, voice pained with the thought.

“Hell yeah.” Tequila answered, making the final glimmer of hope in Jack’s heart shred to pieces. “You’re never home, you're not very attentive to her, plus there’s the whole thing where your entire job is a secret to her-”

Jack reached over and closed the connection before Tequila could say any more. He rubbed his forehead, biting his lip as he tried to keep his composure. He couldn’t be sure how long he sat there, trying to make sense of everything. He thought of the past week, month, year, wondering how long this could have been going on that he hadn’t noticed.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat in his self-pity, wondering what he could have done to change the past, when his radio buzzed at him. He hit the buttons on auto-pilot, receiving the message that there was a breakthrough in the case and he’d be wheels up by midnight. Perfect...

Jack was exhausted, even more so than he usually was after a mission. He never should have gone and he was sure he was going to get his ass handed to him by Champ at debriefing. He had been distracted the whole time, thinking about the mess his marriage had fallen into and how to fix it. He shouldn’t have gone at all, he should be at home with you-

“Hey, Jack-”

“Not now, Tequila.” Jack grumbled, cutting off the younger agent. He pulled his hat down over his eyes, hoping he could get some rest before they landed. He knew it wasn’t likely, but at least he’d be left alone.

“Look, it was a shit show, we both know that.” Tequila continued, making Jack sigh. “I had some of the boys back home look into something while we were gone though. Didn’t wanna bring it up til the mission was done-”

“Get to it.” Jack demanded.. A pile of papers fell onto Jack’s lap and he begrudgingly lifted his hat to see what they were.

“Francis Steinruck. Owner of Queens and Kings Auto Sales in Queens. He’s your guy.”

It took Jack a moment to remember the man’s face, where he knew it from, but as soon as he recognized the man you had been sitting with inside the cafe, he sat right up.

“Took the footage from your glasses, blew it up and got it to tech. They ran him through the databases and found him.”

“A used car salesman?” Jack questioned aloud as he leafed through the file.

“Right?” Tequila laughed. A hard glare from Jack had him quickly trying to cover his barks with loud coughs. “Anyway, it’s probably nothing. Maybe she was looking to upgrade the wagon or something.”

“Y’ello?”

“Gonna be late to debrief.” Jack told Tequila, not bothering to explain why.

“Jack,” Tequila groaned. “You’re killing me here.”

“I’ll deal with Champ when I’m in.”

“He’s already gonna tear us several new asses. Each. What the fuck is more-” He stopped short. “No.”

Jack didn’t answer, just gripped the steering wheel tighter.

“Jack, no. Don’t make me regret giving you that intel. We’ll go scope this guy out later. I’ll come with you-”

“I don’t need back-up.” Jack dismissed.

“I’m not there to back you up, I’m there to keep you out of jail. Do you know what would happen to your career- to my career - if you-”

Jack closed the line, not wanting to hear his partner’s complaining anymore. His career wasn’t even on his mind as he peeled through the streets. Nor were most traffic laws, leaving drivers honking angrily behind him as he went.

He pulled into the lot at Queens and Kings Auto Sales, parking quickly in front of the building. He stepped out of the Bronco and started looking up and down the rows of cars for sale. Most of them were old, drab, beat-up lemons. None of them were anything he could imagine you driving, although the cherry red convertible at the top of the lot caught his eye. Not your style, nor was it his, but it stood out like a sore thumb among the other wrecks.

“She’s a real gem, isn’t she?” His thoughts were interrupted by a male voice over his shoulder. He turned, seeing the man you had been having lunch with. He leered at Jack with a typical skeezy, “used car salesman” smile.

“She’s flashy, for sure.” Jack grumbled, looking the man up and down.

“You in the market, or did she catch your eye while you were driving?” He asked, pawing at the gleaming hood. “She has that effect on men. And women.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Not that a good lookin’ guy like you needs any help, I’m sure.” He laughed.

Jack faked one single huff of a laugh as the man tried to work his salesman charm.

“Francis.” The man introduced himself, holding his hand out to Jack.

“Jack.” He introduced himself in return, taking Francis’ hand in his and squeezing it harder than necessary.

“Yowch! Quite the grip you got there, pal!” Francis laughed as he fought to get his hand back. Jack barely concealed his grin at the small amount of pain he was able to inflict on this man. Maybe it was petty, but maybe he’d learn to keep his hands to himself and off of his wife.

“Well Jack, what do I gotta do to talk you into this beauty, huh? How ‘bout we take it for a little spin? You can really get the feel for how she purrs.” He suggested, opening the passenger seat for Jack.

“Sure.” Jack agreed, sliding into the car. He kept his eyes forward, seeing Francis through the rearview mirror as he jogged around the back of the car. He made no move to hide his excitement over a potential sale until he was back in view, climbing into the driver’s seat. He turned over the engine, grinning at Jack as the car roared to life.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Francis bragged as he started backing out of the parking spot.

Jack was silent as Francis maneuvered out of the lot, taking the car onto the street. His mind was occupied with the cleanest way to take this guy out and make it look like an accident.

“Look Jack,” Francis sighed after a few minutes of driving, leading them into the suburbs. “I can tell you’re not in love with the car. To tell you the truth, there’s better cars out there. She doesn’t even handle all that well. We both know what this car is about.”

A silence passed between them as Francis glanced back and forth between Jack and the road ahead of them. “It’s about pussy, man. This car sells the dream. Take a look around, my friend.”

Jack grit his teeth together, noticing as all the suburban housewives seemed to stop what they were doing to watch the car pass. Francis waved charmingly at a few of them, making them fluster.

“Let’s face it Jack. The ‘vette gets ‘em wet.” Francis laughed obnoxiously. Jack couldn’t believe this guy had even made it into your orbit, let alone charmed you.

Jack nodded, forcing out a laugh to make Francis think he was buying into everything he was saying. “It’s that easy, is it? Just use the car?” Francis didn’t seem to notice how low and monotone Jack’s voice had dropped as the man’s self control dangled from a thread.

“She gets you in the door, but to really seal the deal, get some of this sweet suburban pussy, you gotta have an angle.” Francis grinned.

Jack clenched and unclenched his hands, wanting to punch the man just for the way he was talking about women, let alone the role his own wife was playing in this man’s life. “I suppose you have an angle?” He asked, needing to know what Francis had done to catch your attention.

“Oh, it’s fuckin’ killer man.” Francis chuckled. “See, a guy like me, I know I’m not much to look at. No, no, I know it’s true.” He rushed, almost like he was expecting Jack to placate him about his appearance. Jack definitely had no plans to make such a move. “But I’ve got the perfect angle, has them lining up for a piece of ol’ Francis. Not just the skanks either.”

“Well?” Jack prompted, trying to get him to continue talking.

“Oh, no, no, no. I can’t go giving out my angle. Next thing I know, every man on Manhattan is using it.” Francis laughed, shaking his finger at Jack. “You sly dog. Besides, a good lookin’ guy like you? In a car like this? You wouldn’t need it.”

Jack was growing tired of the man, of the false flattery as he pushed the sale. Although, to know exactly what this man had been feeding you, he knew he had to continue to play along.

“There’s enough Pussy in the city for both of us, man.” Jack teased with a sly grin.

“A damn buffet, am I right?” Francis cackled obnoxiously, punching Jack in the shoulder in some show of brotherhood.

“Exactly!” Jack agreed, his grin growing a little too much as he returned the punch with a bit more force than necessary.

Francis flinched, but didn’t say anything about the hit. “Alright, alright. I’ll let you in on it.” Francis caved as they rolled to a stop at a crossing. A young mother pushed her stroller across the street, watching the shining convertible as she went. Francis waved at her, shooting her a smile. Jack couldn’t believe the way she flushed as she turned back to the path ahead of her. If only these women knew what slime he was.

“Okay, just ask yourself. What do women really want? You take these bored housewives, married to the same guy for years. Stuck in a rut. They need some release. The promise of adventure. A hint of danger. I create that for them.”

“You lie to them.” Jack clarified, fighting the urge to growl.

“What are you, a boy scout?” Francis laughs. “Think of it as role playing. I’m just… playing the role of the man they wish they had instead of the dodo they married. I take them out of the suburban grind for a few hours, let them live a little.”

“And their husbands?” Jack asked, staring at the side of Francis’ face. “Don’t you feel bad for them?”

“No.” Francis shook his head with yet another laugh. “Those dickless twerps? Let’s face it, if they took care of business, I’d be out of business if you know what I mean.”

Jack forced himself to laugh along with Francis, though he was glad the man had to keep his eyes on the road. He wouldn’t be able to see the absolute rage flaring in his eyes. The hatred he held for this man. He played about 10 different scenarios in his head of just how easily he could end his life before he knew what hit him.

“Idiots.” Jack grit.

“Absolute idiots.” Francis agreed.

“Say, how about you let me get behind the wheel?” Jack asked. “Let me get a few minutes in the spotlight.”

Francis smiled at him before slowing the car, pulling to the side of the road. “Great idea! Now you’ll really feel the heat of their eyes on you! Who wants the co-pilot when they can have the Captain, am I right?”

Jack opened the door, stepping onto the sidewalk before coming around the front of the car. “Is that the game you play with them? Pilot?”

Francis came around the front, clapping Jack on the bicep as he passed him. “No. Get this, I convince them I’m a spy!”

Jack faltered in his steps, playing it off like he stepped in an uneven spot in the road. He didn’t say anything as he took over the driver’s seat. He barely took a moment to familiarize himself with the configuration before he pulled out of the parking spot, tires screeching behind him.

“Woah, buddy. Take her easy.” Francis cautioned, still laughing although it held a touch of nervousness.

Jack didn’t pay him any mind as he sped forward, using all of his training to push the car to its limits. Francis sat beside him, trying to make jokes about slowing down, never once betraying the air of comradery they’d fallen into.

“So, who are you working on right now?” Jack asked through clenched jaw.

“Always got a few on the line.” Francis gloated. “But I’ve got this one woman,” he breathed out a whoop. “I’ve got her panting like a dog!”

“What does she do?”

“Some boring office job. Married to some dickless swine. Poor sucker doesn’t even see what he’s got, you know? She could be so hot.”

Jack tightened his grip on the steering wheel, hearing the leather cracking under his hands. It reminded him of his favorite whip and how much he’d love to use it right now to make this guy shut up.

Francis didn’t pick up on his unease, not only continuing to talk about you but even turning in his seat to face Jack. “She’s so uptight, always wearing conservative shit to work, but I see the potential under there. You should see her ass in these skirts, man. Make a grown man weep.”

Jack’s eye twitched and he glanced down at the speedometer, watching it eke up over 80mph.

“She’s like all these babes though. She’s a dying plant, just needs a bit of water. Get ‘em going and they could suck-start a leaf blower.”

Jack’s mouth was dry, eyes narrowing on the road ahead as he fought his urge to beat the man to a pulp. To aim the car at a wall and dive out before it exploded, taking this sorry waste of oxygen with it.

“She must be real good in bed, huh?” Jack asked, unable to look at the man beside him.

“Woah, you’re gonna miss the turn-” Francis started to point out, but Jack made the turn into the car lot at the last minute. Francis flailed in the seat next to him, not prepared for the sharp turn. Francis started screaming as Jack pulled the car into a drift, spinning it backwards and slipping it seamlessly into the spot it had been before. Jack had the car in park and exited before the dust had settled, leaving Francis glancing around in wonder of what had just happened.

It took a minute before Francis climbed out, scurrying after Jack. “See? You and this car were made for eachother? You’ve got her in your veins now!”

Jack ignored him, stomping towards his Bronco, which Tequila was currently leaning against waiting for him with a look of what did you do?

“I’ve got a couple other buyers on the line, but I like your style Jack. What do you say?”

Jack stopped walking, making Francis nearly bump into him. “I’ll think about it. Hold it a day for me.”

He didn’t wait for Francis to answer, continuing his trek to his own car.

“The hell are you doing?!” Tequila hissed.

Jack ignored his partner, pulling open the door and sliding inside.

“Don’t you blow me off, Jack! Is that him? Did you poison him or something? I know you didn’t just walk away from him.” Tequila carried on, trying to stop Jack from leaving. He briefly thought about standing in front of the Bronco but he knew that Jack had a plan in his head and he wasn’t about to be the one who dies trying to stop it.

Jack read through the transcripts in front of him. Was there a pang of guilt, knowing he’d bugged his own telephone line? Absolutely. Did that stop him? No. He needed to know what was going on between you and this clown. He felt like a masochist, peeling back every layer of information knowing it would hurt him more and more to find out.

Francis hadn’t called the house since Jack had met him. He hadn’t called since Jack had planted the bug before leaving for Morocco. Part of him was relieved, if he was being honest with himself. He could almost fool himself into believing that you really were just looking to trade in the station wagon-

Jack’s absent train of thought halted as he squinted down at the page in front of him. He flipped back and forth, making sure that he hadn’t just lost track of what he was doing… but no. There was a page missing.

“Colt.” He called quietly, calmly, to his partner.

The younger man barely looked up from his desk in response.

“There’s a page missing.”

“What?” Colt frowned, looking over at the pages on the desk. “There shouldn’t be. It’s probably just a typo-”

“Where is it?” Jack asked, having had enough preamble.

“It’s just a typo-”

“Give me the page, now.” He demanded, his calm facade starting to slip. His anger was just below the surface. He was ready to snap, and he wasn’t sure if it would be the lamp on his desk or his partner’s face that would bear the brunt of it.

“Okay, okay.” Colt surrendered, holding his hands up in defense before opening his drawer. He rifled through some files until handing him the paper - slightly crumpled from being hidden. “I was trying to help.”

Incoming Call, 18:36 “Hello?” “Is it safe to talk?” “Yes.” “Good. Have you had a chance-” “Yes… You can take me-” “I’m so glad. I need you.” “I know.” “I need to see you.” “When?” “Friday.” “I’ll make it work.” “Don’t tell anyone.” “That would defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it?” “Smart and beautiful.” “Stop it.” “I have to go. I’ll meet you under the bridge on Friday.” “Okay. Bye.” End of call

Jack’s hands were shaking, he could barely finish reading the end of the conversation. He squeezed his eyes shut, crumpling the paper in his hands.

Tagging: @wickedfrsgrl @din-damn-djarin @seasonschange-butpeopledont @kesskirata @phoenixhalliwell @vonschweetz @insideafictionaluniverse @driedgreentomatoes @computeringturtle @spideysimpossiblegirl @thottiewinemom @sheerfreesia007 @and-claudia @weirdowithnobeardo @massivecolorspygiant @mrstaekim @chibi-liz05 @adrieunor @ilikechocolatemilkh @thirstworldproblemss @dynishot @diamond-doritos @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @eli-the-thinker @justanotherblonde23 @bbuckysbeardd @generalfoolish @reader-s-cantina @littlemissoblivious @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @maghellah

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#Agent Whiskey #Agent Whiskey x Reader #agent whiskey x f!reader #Agent Whiskey fanfic #agent whiskey imagine #Agent Jack Daniels #Pedro Pascal Character Fanfiction #WookieTales #AU: Whiskey Straight

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