#are you pregnant shirley

[jimmyspades]

20 seconds of the Boston Legal cast hitting and kicking me

[emlos]

*typical blockbuster strip club scene with an live audience watching*

*sexy barely clad blonde's ass is on the screen, panning up to have her bra etc stuffed with cash. some rich lookin suit from the off slaps her on the ass and she giggles, as he throws money at her or whatever*

me in the audience: BOOOO UNFEMINIST!!!! ANOTHER BIG BUDGET PLAYING INTO SEXIST FANTASIES!!!! GET ME OUT OF HERE

*blonde from earlier strikes some sexy pose, the camera ogles her some more (all of the background extras are equally as stereotypically hot, with lots of douches in cheap suits stand around). closeup on anything but her face as she sits down as provocatively as skirting the PG-13 line allows

*pan right to reveal that the douche in question is a BUTCH douche. all of the other guys are also various shades of dyke*

me: OHHH MY GOD OHHHHHHHHHHJGGGG yeah cinema!!!!!! KINO!!!!

[midnightsnyx]

girl at home | mat barzal | part 10

pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of alcohol and vomit & fluff and not edited!! word count: 2.6k

a/n: so obviously this is fiction and we don't actually know what Mat or Liana or his parents personalities are actually like but I took some liberty with Liana's personality. see end for more notes cause I don't want to spoil anything :) also sorry this is so late!! i went back to work and then had trouble with this chapter. i hope you all enjoy! likes, reblogs and comments feed my writing soul so let me know what you think <3

masterlist masterpost ask box

Liana texts you the day after your meet-up with Mat at the park, apologizing for getting angry with you and asking to go out for drinks. You don’t have it in you to still be upset with her for yelling at you because she was always the little sister you never had and just because you and Mat are having problems, doesn’t mean it should affect your relationship with her. Sometimes you wonder if you’re too quick to forgive and forget but you know that this is an exception. 

“It’s just weird, y’know?” Liana mutters, laying her head on the dirty bar table. She’s on her third drink and you’re close to cutting her off. “I’m going to be an aunt again, but I have this odd feeling about Calista. Like she’s not telling the entire truth.” 

You startle when she suddenly bolts upright and looks at you with wide eyes. 

“What if Mat’s not the father? That would make so much sense!” 

“How so?” you ask carefully. So far, you have successfully kept the fact that Calista is not pregnant a secret. It’s a secret you will have to take to your grave because you can’t let Marlee get in trouble when all she was doing was trying to help you. The truth might come out some day, but it’s something you will deal with then. 

“Mat is just being weird about the whole thing, like he’s hiding something,” she says. “Well, besides the fact that he hasn’t told mom or dad… but there’s something else.” She picks up her glass and drinks the last of her martini before signinally the bartender for a refill. 

“I think it’s time we switch you to Shirley Temples,” you say gently, asking the bartender for a couple glasses of water. 

She tries to wave you off when you push the water towards her but you give her the all too familiar look that you used to give her when you were both younger. 

“Fine, but if I’m getting cut off, so–” she stops talking abruptly, suddenly focused on something across the room. You turn and see a familiar face that makes your heart drop into your stomach because there’s no way she’s that stupid and you’re about to say something but Liana hops off her barstool and before you can stop her, she’s marching across the room to where Calista is sitting. She’s surrounded by a few other people, one of them being a guy you can’t quite place but definitely isn’t Mat, but the real kicker is the drink in her hand. 

You’re not in the business of accusing people but the way she’s laughing loudly and swaying a little in her seat makes you think that it’s not a non-alcoholic drink. You stare a little too long because when you snap out of your stupor, it’s to a loud shriek and shouting. Nearly tripping over your own feet, you rush over to find both Calista and Liana being held back by people and shouting at each other. You manage to drag Liana out of the hands of the person holding her back but you can’t help but stare at Calista in shock. You know she’s not pregnant but you didn’t think she was stupid enough to test her luck by getting drunk at a bar and possibly being seen by people who think she is.  

“I knew something was off about you,” Liana shouts at Calista who only now seems to realize that you are also in the room. Her face, which was red, pales considerably and her eyes widen when she looks at you.

“You are pregnant!” Liana shrieks and when you hear people gasping and the whispers start, you know you need to get Liana out of here now. 

With strength you didn’t realize you have, you drag her outside. She shakes you off as soon as you’re out the doors and promptly throws up all over your shoes. You don’t give yourself time to be grossed out, pulling your phone out of your pocket and calling the first person you think of.

“Hello?” Jax mumbles and you’re panicking enough that you can’t feel sorry that you woke him up. 

“I need you to pick us up,” you gasp and suddenly you’re sixteen again, calling him to pick you up from a party that you snuck out to. 

Jax doesn’t hesitate before agreeing and asking where you are. You rattle off the name of the bar and he says he’ll be there in ten minutes even though you know his apartment is at least twenty minutes away. You’ve never been so grateful to have him as a friend. 

“You didn’t call Mat, right?” Liana asks quietly and you look to see her sitting on the curb, looking absolutely miserable. Her eyes are filled with unspilled tears and you can only imagine what’s going on in her head. 

“No,” you tell her, sitting down next to her and wrapping an arm around her. “I called Jax.”

She nods and leans her head on your shoulder. You sit in silence for a few minutes before she speaks and her voice is quiet and shaky. 

“She was never pregnant, was she?”

Maybe it’s the natural motherly instinct in you, but you realize you can’t lie to her when she’s so upset.

“No,” you tell her and then she’s crying. You know that she’s drunk which makes her more emotionally vulnerable but you also know how sensitive she’s always been and it’s not a weakness. She wears her emotions on her sleeve and it’s only ever made her kinder and wiser than she should be for her age. 

“I’m sorry,” she sobs. “I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you when Mat told me but I was so confused and upset that he was keeping it from us.” 

Then she’s crying even harder. “Oh god, what are we going to tell Mat?”

Truthfully, in the chaos of all this, you haven’t had the chance to think about what you’ll do about Mat. You know Liana won’t keep the truth from him and even if she did, word travels fast and he would eventually find out. You’re not certain he can mentally handle this, not with everything that’s going on between the two of you and his fragile relationship with Nora. He was just getting used to the fact that he has a daughter when Calista dropped the baby bomb on him and now to find out that it’s been a lie? You’ve no idea what he will do. 

“I don’t know,” you tell her honestly and sigh in relief when you see Jax’s car come into view. You stand up, helping her back to her feet just as Jax parks and gets out to help you. 

He looks worried but doesn’t say anything about yours or Liana’s appearance. Once you’re both settled in his car, he tells you he’s going to bring you both to his apartment for the night, obviously not feeling comfortable dropping you home when you’re upset and intoxicated. You know he’s right but all you want to do is curl up in your own bed. 

“Alright,” you agree eventually and he nods, starting the drive back to his place. You must nod off because the next thing you know, Jax is gently shaking your arm, waking you up. 

“I can’t carry you both in,” he jokes and you look back to see Liana completely knocked out. She grumbles when you wake her but she’s coherent enough to walk.

Jax’s boyfriend, Eli, already has their guestroom set up so you get Liana in the bed and then situate yourself on the air mattress. Jax leaves with a promise to check on you both throughout the night and if you weren’t so worried about Liana, you would tell him not to worry but you’re not taking any chances with her.

You lay awake for a while, not able to get the image of Calista drunk and with another guy out of your head. You don’t know how to tell Mat about it and Liana probably won’t either but eventually you drift off to sleep.

. . .

The next morning, you wake before Liana. Jax came in and checked on you both a few times before deciding that it was okay to leave you so you’re surprised to find him awake when you make your way out to the kitchen. It’s just past 8 o’clock but he’s cooking breakfast, singing off tune to Taylor Swift.

“Hey,” you say softly, sitting at the breakfast bar. You know he’s going to want an explanation because even though he let you off the hook last night, he’s going to want to know why Liana was crying and you had vomit on your shoes when he picked you up. 

“Morning,” he replies, placing a coffee in front of you and a piece of plain toast. You can feel his eyes watching you eat and once you’re done, he looks at you expectantly. 

“We saw Calista at the bar last night,” you explain. “Drunk and with some random guy.”

“Huh,” he says, so you look at him. His face is neutral, not showing if he’s surprised. 

“What does huh mean?”

“I mean, you did say something was off about her.” 

That was putting it lightly because although you couldn’t tell him the full story in fear that Marlee would lose her job, you did express your concerns about her without telling him that you knew she wasn’t pregnant. 

“Yeah,” you sigh. 

You hear shuffling from the guest room and look to see Liana walking into the kitchen. She plops down next to you and groans.

“I’m never drinking again,” she says and you can’t help but chuckle despite the circumstances. 

“Said every hungover person ever,” you say and a small smile crosses her face before she frowns, clearly remembering last night's events.

“I have to tell Mat,” she says. “It’s not fair to him that she lied.”

You sigh but nod in agreement. 

“I have to pick Nora up from my moms,” you tell her. “Are you okay to tell him yourself?” 

You really don’t want to be there when Mat finds out, not when you’re dealing with your own feelings towards him. 

“Yeah,” she says, eating the toast Jax offers her. 

You both finish your coffee and then Jax drives you to your apartment and you drop Liana home before picking Nora up. 

She’s ecstatic to see you, telling you everything she did with grandma from the moment you dropped her off until now picking her up. 

“And then, Millie hissed at me but Gizmo barked and scared her away,” she takes a deep breath before continuing her ramblings. “Can we get a kitten?” 

“You’re allergic, remember?” You remind her, and then a thought pops into your mind. Where did she see your mother’s neighbor's cat? “Where did you see Millie?” 

“Mrs. Turner invited us over for tea,” she tells you and then offhandedly adds: “she asked about you and Mat.” 

This doesn’t surprise you because Mrs. Edna Turner is quite the gossiper. You have trust in your mother that she didn’t tell Edna anything private but you’re still curious what exactly they talked about and you know that your child can be sneaky when she wants to be. 

“What did Mrs.Turner ask?” you ask, rolling your eyes when she sighs dramatically and puts her tablet away. 

“Well, first she asked if Mat was really my daddy and when Grandma said yes, she said ‘that poor child’,” she says, face scrunching up in confusion. “What does that mean?”

You make a mental note to talk to your mom about bringing Nora to any future tea parties at Mrs. Turner’s. 

“Nothing,” you assure her. “What else did she say?”

“She told grandma that if she were you, she wouldn’t move me to New York.” Her eyes narrow and she frowns. “I thought you said we weren’t moving to New York.”

“We’re not.”

“Then how come Mrs.Turner said that?” she demands.

“‘Cause Mrs. Turner doesn’t know how to mind her own business,” you mumble and then sigh, looking at Nora so she’s listening. “We’re not moving to New York, okay?” 

She nods and then smiles. “Can we go get ice cream?” 

“Yeah, we can go get ice cream,” you tell her even though it’s nearly dinner. 

Every once in awhile, ice cream for dinner is in order.

. . .

It’s past midnight when there’s a quiet knock on your door, and the only reason you’re awake to hear it is because Liana let you know she told Mat the truth about Calista. She told you that he had left the house as soon as she told him that morning and hadn’t returned home all day. You were expecting a text from him but your phone was silent and that worried you even more.

So, when you open the door to find Mat standing in front of you, red rimmed eyes and looking about two seconds away from crying, you don’t hesitate to let him inside. He slips past you and toes his shoes off before going straight for the couch and sitting down on it. You hesitate, but eventually settle down next to him. 

He’s resting his elbows on his knees, hiding his face in his hands and it takes you a minute to realize he’s crying silently. 

“Mat…” 

“I just - fuck, I thought that this was my second chance, you know? It wasn’t ideal but I would get to do all the things I missed with Nora,” he says, scrubbing his hands over his face. “I was such an idiot.”

It’s not a dig towards you but you still can’t shake the guilt you always feel when he talks about everything he didn’t get to see. Her first steps, first words, first day of kindergarten. All the things you can never get back. 

“It’s not your fault,” you say gently. “You couldn’t have known.”

“I should’ve,” he mumbles and before you can say anything, you hear soft footsteps coming down the hallway. You look to see Nora, rubbing her eyes sleepily and frowning when she sees Mat. 

When he realizes she’s there, he wipes his eyes hastily but it’s not fast enough because Nora walks over to him and deepens her frown.

“Are you okay?” she asks quietly, reaching out and touching his cheek that’s still damp. 

Mat looks like he’s going to say that he’s fine but seems to change his mind last minute. He smiles sadly and shakes his head.

“Not really, peanut,” he tells her and the frown on her face deepens even more than you thought possible. 

“Mama says hugs make things better when you’re sad,” she says, sounding much wiser than a six-year-old should sound. Then, without asking, she climbs up onto his lap and wraps her tiny arms around his neck and hugs him. You can see the moment Mat breaks, hugging her back gently and it’s like all the tension drains from his body. 

You call it the “Nora Effect”, because her little hugs always seem to make you feel better.

“I’m so sorry, Nora,” you hear Mat whisper and you know he’s going to beat himself up over everything that’s happened with Calista - and Nora deserves his apologies, but your kid is one of a kind and you know that she will forgive him.

With time, if he proves himself, he’ll have a place in her life and you can’t wait to see what the future holds for them. 

authors notes: so calista is goneeeee FINALLY. she wasn't supposed to be here as long as she was but I got too carried away with that storyline and i'm glad it's over lol also, I had mixed thoughts about having mama be the one who told Mat that Calista was lying but I just couldn't get it right so I figured next best thing would be Liana! ps: millie is named after my own cat who i will put a pic of in the comments below

tag list: @literatureluster @dasiysthings @diary-of-jj @heatherawoowoo @fallinallincurls @lovinbarzal @whatthepuckisgoingon @teapartydreams @alilstressyandlotdepressy @keiva1000 @hischiershoe @bellstwd

@alwaysclassyeagle @brrbrina @nonsensical-nonsence @love-like-woaah @swift-sos @barzygirl13 @ilyrafe

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[matan4il]

Daily update post:

A terrorist in the PIJ (Palestinian Islamic Jihad) has admitted in his interrogation that they practiced for the Oct 7 massacre on Iranian soil. This is important to remember, that it wasn't just Hamas that committed the vicious attack on Israelis during that day, that the Islamist regime in Iran's involvement was crucial to what happened, and that Gaza was NEVER "an open air prison" as the anti-Israel crowd claimed. The above link has the vid quoted here.

Yesterday, Golani infantry's division 36 has left a section in northern Gaza, as a part of lowering the intensity of the fighting there. A short while later, no less than 50 rockets were fired from exactly that area into southern Israel. Yoram Bitan's shop in the southern town of Netivot took a direct hit from a rocket while he and his son were still inside (pic is from this vid, where the start also shows the barrages of rockets over Netivot). They're both thankfully okay, the building absorbed most of the impact.

Just this morning, at least 25 more rockets were fired from that area of Gaza into Israel, before IDF soldiers managed to find and destroy some of the rocket launchers that were used in these attacks (see pic with just one barrage of intercepted rockets over Israel on the horizon, Hebrew source). If Israel can't lower the intensity of the fighting, that's absolutely also because of Hamas' continued choices. Israeli civilians from the south are currently protesting against the possibility that Israel will stop the war before the complete removal of the threat of rockets being fired from Gaza.

The IDF has confirmed yesterday that it has eliminated more than 150 Hezbollah squads since the start of the war.

I got to watch an interview with Shirley (not necessarily her real name), who was a prison guard where Palestinian terrorists were held. She was sexually harassed by a terrorist called Muhammad Atallah for 2 years. Towards the end of her service at this prison, he told her that her life is being threatened by Amjad Awad, a Palestinian terrorist, who murdered the Fogel family when he was 18 years old, together with his relative, 17 years old Hakim Awad. These are 35 years old Ruti, 36 years old Udi, 11 years old Yoav, 4 years old Elad and 3 months (!) old Hadas in Mar 2011. Amjad and Hakim were actually on their way out of the house, when they heard baby Hadas crying in her crib, returned and murdered her (Hebrew source).

You can hopefully understand why Shirley was terrified when she heard Awad wanted to kill her, and Atallah claimed he could keep her safe, using this to try and rape her in a spot between two gates in the prison where there are no cameras. She fought back and saved herself. Atallah, who is imprisoned for attempted murder and murder as part of his terrorist activity, was put on trial back in 2022 for sexual harassment of Shirley and attempted rape, as well as for raping another female prison guard.

But in the interview I listened to yesterday, Shirley talked about how horrified she is over the possibility that Awad and Atallah might be freed in a hostage deal, where Hamas will demand terrorists with "blood on their hands" be released.

Last night, the IDF presented the findings of an investigation into the cause of death of 3 hostages, whose bodies were retrieved from Gaza. The autopsy determined that they were NOT killed by direct IDF or terrorists fire, but the bodies are in such a state, that it's impossible to determine what did kill them.

These are Michal and her husband Alex Lubnov.

Alex worked as a bartender at the Nova music festival on Oct 7. He was kidnapped to Gaza. Michal is seven months pregnant. This week, she visited the site from which Alex was kidnapped for the first time. She's waiting for her husband to be freed, and be with her at the delivery room.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[bingsucks]

you know we never really hear about shirley's family. we see her in-laws in the thanksgiving episode, but other than her kids/Andre, we never see her parents. are they living? are they dead?

everyone in the study group has some kind of parental issues. addiction is a genetic trait, and it's possible her alcoholism was hereditary. maybe she had a faith crisis in her 20s. she wanted to be a business owner, but what did she want BEFORE that? obviously she loves her kids, but how would her life have gone if she never had them in the first place?

something that seems to come up a lot when episodes are more shirley-centric is shame, and she seems to ignore the things she finds shame in. she was ashamed to be pregnant with Ben, so she ignored the pregnancy test in her purse. she was ashamed that she (and why she) wanted to start a business in the first place, so she made an excuse. she was ashamed about how she acted as a child, so she supressed it.

but the shame had to come from somewhere.

it would be fun to explore shirley's relationship with religion under a more critical lens, because maybe she doesn't even want to think about it.

it's a sitcom, but I have so many questions and there's so much POTENTIAL

[dreamwatch]

STWG daily drabble - 19/09/23

Prompt: we’re not family

****

The ICU is at capacity. An earthquake, they’re saying. It’s been a week and they’re still sticking to that bullshit story.

Wayne’s not an idiot, and neither are these doctors. There are Feds here talking about dog bites and it’s written all over their faces, yeah pal, we don’t believe it either.

A nurse brought him a book a couple of days ago. “To keep your mind off things.” It’s hard to read when he’s listening for the whoosh clicks of the ventilator, the alarms, beeps and bells of machinery, all plugged in to his nephew, and knowing that these sounds mean Eddie’s alive. He doesn’t want to keep his mind off that.

Wayne hears a commotion in the hallway and he’s about to ignore it when he realises he recognises the voice.

He steps out of the room and is stunned to see his little brother arguing with two nurses. It’s like a slap in the face. Wayne didn’t even know he was out of jail.

“Christ, Wayne, will you tell these people we’re family?”

Wayne stares at him. At Albert Edward Munson, the baby brother who he wished for for so long. Who finally showed up a couple of months after Wayne’s tenth birthday and he’d thought it was the best possible birthday present anyone could have got him.

He used to take Al to school for his Ma when she was working, his small hand tucked safely in Wayne’s as they walked. That yardstick of growth, hand against hand, laughter and giggles as Al caught up to him, bigger and bigger each year.

He showed him how to slick his curls back with Sweet Georgia Brown before his first date. Told him he was still proud of him when he failed senior year. 

Hugged him tight when Al was drafted. Hugged him tighter when he came home.

He comforted him when he got Shirley-Anne pregnant, told him it would be okay. Gave him money, helped them get married. 

Cried with him when Eddie was born. Cried with him when Shirley-Ann died.

Bailed him out of jail when he went on a bender. Cleaned up the bottles and cans in the house so that Eddie wouldn’t cut himself on them. 

Argued with him when he saw the bruises on Eddie’s arms. Hit him when he saw the bruise on Eddie’s cheek.

Disowned him when he threw Eddie out.

He stares at his baby brother, and it fucking hurts because he sees so much of Eddie standing there. The big brown eyes, the dark curls. It fucking hurts because he loved this kid with all his heart and he did everything he could, he did, to steer him right, to keep him on a good path. All for nothing.

Wayne swallows thick and wet. “We ain’t family.”

“The fuck we’re not!” shouts Al. “You can’t keep me from my boy!”

Wayne is a patient man, but that there is his breaking point. He storms towards Al, grabs his shirt in one hand, points right in his face with the other.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he spits out, venom and anger and frustration, a pressure cooker twenty years in the making finally exploding. “On two counts. I will keep you away from him, and he ain’t your fucking boy no more!” Wayne shoves him away. “You lost the right to call him your boy the moment you beat the shit out of him.”

He catches sight of one of the Feds and well fuck let’s make them work for their money, he thinks as he waves him over.

“This man’s bothering the nurses.” He barely finishes the sentence before Al is being dragged out of the ICU, hollering and shouting the whole way.

The nurses are kind, they ask if he’s okay and he thanks them and apologises. For what happened, not for Al’s behaviour. Because he stopped being responsible for Al Munson a long time ago.

[zosa95]

Edith suggested they relocate to the bar where it was warmer. B’zad told Edith about his war injury and hospitalization. He spoke of falling in love with his nurse, a war widow with an infant son, during his long recovery.

B’zad: I’d given up on coming back here. I said I’d try, but I let you down.

Edith: It was beyond your control, no worries. So, you adopted your son? Did you ever have any biological children?

B'zad: No, Xyrena was unable to become pregnant again. But I had a wonderful family and life that I loved. I don’t regret a moment with them. Xyrena died fourteen years ago, and I’ve been alone since. Are you married, or do you have children?

Edith only hesitated for a few seconds before sharing her wild and crazy life, carefully omitting her pregnancy and subsequently giving up her and B’zad’s newborn son for adoption. She made it a point to emphasize her craziest moments. Maybe this was a test. Or just maybe she wanted to scare him off. But his smile never wavered. The disapproving frown and narrowed, judging eyes never appeared.

B'zad: It sounds like a marvelous and fulfilling life. Do you have any regrets?

Edith shrugged and stared into her lame Shirley Temple. If she came home drunk or high once more, she’d face eviction from the senior home. She was already on probation.

Edith: A few here and there. But that’s a well-lived life, isn’t it?

B’zad: Indeed.

Edith: (lowered voice) So you’re in disguise, huh?

B’zad: (quietly) Yeah. I’m wearing contacts. My identification says my name is Brad Taggart, and I was born in MyShuno. It’s easier to get “lost” in the city.

Edith: How long are you staying?

B’zad smiled at Edith, giving her butterflies. While Edith had an abundant sexual appetite, butterflies were a rare gift. It was disconcerting.

B'zad: As long as you like. I want to see you again.

[lisbeth-kk]

May Prompts (30) Journey

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 30)

Summary: Rosie struggles a bit during her pregnancy. Thinking about her own mother only makes her nauseous, and not because of morning sickness. A solution is found and nature does the rest.

Thirty Years Old

Of course, we were at Baker Street the first time the baby kicked. Not surprising since we lived there, it was the occasion rather, Timothy’s birthday.  Dad and Papa came up from Sussex to celebrate with us, and the moment I hugged Dad, a violent kick made me wince.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Dad asked worried.

“The baby,” I whispered. “It kicked. For the first time.”

Dad beamed at me, as if it was his presence that elicited this action. Papa looked proudly at him, and I just knew that this baby would be spoiled beyond belief. My parents were already besotted. Not that Marie and Daniel were less excited, but they’d been through this four times already.

***

The evidence of my pregnancy with my growing belly, didn’t stop me from marvelling in the craziness of it all. Every now and again the thought hit me: you’re having a baby!

Another thing that haunted me occasionally was the thought of my mother. How had she felt about being pregnant with a man that abandoned her? Not that I blamed Dad one bit. She had almost killed Papa, which still made me nauseous, and it stung my heart. Sometimes I was filled with rage aimed at the woman who I’d been inside for nine months. Other times, I pondered if she’d planned it all to end like it did. To save Papa’s life, sacrificing herself. The thoughts were fruitless of course, and for my own sanity, I managed to stop before I was overwhelmed with the need to know.

There was no secret that both my parents had gone to therapy before and after the Eurus business, and Dad suggested that I try it too, to get some tools to cope when the emotions got the better of me. I did, and it helped.

***

Nature is a wonderful thing. After months of discomfort and hours of agony in labour, all was forgotten once our little girl was laid on my chest. She was perfect, obviously. Brown strands of hair and dark eyes, the colour not yet established. The midwife took at photo of the three of us to send to our families in due course. 

“Best not wait too long, or Sherlock might talk Greg into giving him access, the hour be damned,” Timothy quipped.

I sighed and kissed the wonder who slept peacefully, wrapped in soft blankets.

Once the nurse had cleaned me up and I got a room, I fed my daughter, which was an overwhelming experience, and I cried through the whole event. Timothy was a calming presence and burped her when she made it clear that she was full, thank you very much.

“Call them,” Timothy urged.

***

I was anxiously waiting for my first visitors the next day. The day before, or night actually, Papa had insisted on asking uncle Myc to send a car down to Sussex to pick them up and bring them to London asap since the last train had departed hours earlier. Both me and Dad called him childish, and he finally settled on visiting after breakfast the following day.

Papa was almost lost for words when he realised that we’d named our daughter after them. It took Dad a bit longer to grasp it, and they were both teary-eyed and quite soppy when they greeted Joanna Shirley for the first time. She clearly had a thing for Papa’s voice, just like I’d always had, because when she started to wail, he talked her through it, and she looked up at him with wide eyes.

Seeing Dad holding my daughter, while Papa encircled Dad’s shoulders, made me tear up again. I was so happy for that little person who had such wonderful people in her life, to spoil her rotten, but also to teach her obscure things, comfort her and support her for as long as they could. It was like seeing my own childhood unfold in front of me. The first years I didn’t remember, and I couldn’t wait to experience that, not to mention adding my uncles into the equation. 

Speaking of…

***

The day I was released from the hospital, Timothy was oddly jittery when I asked if he’d made the last preparations for my return home with an infant.

“Of course,” he assured me.

He was a terrible liar, just like Dad.

It turned out that the forces of nature, which was The Fab Four, had taken matters into their own hands. Timothy had been in charge of making tea and ordering takeaway, while two men, I think you can guess who, did the physical work, while the brothers directed and supervised the remaking of my old room into an extraordinary nursery.

The white walls had been painted sunny yellow; the cot was the one we’d already received from my uncles, a pale green armchair stood in the corner, a bee plushie and Ted were placed on top of the duvet, and a white rug lay on the floor. Bee-patterned curtains, and my own bee-blanket, an oak bookshelf filled with my old books and some new ones, made the room feel welcoming.

“You’re all insane!” I scolded the proud foursome.

“Indeed,” uncle Myc agreed. “Nothing but the best is good enough for my grandniece.”

“And our granddaughter,” Dad and Papa said in unison.

Uncle Greg rolled his eyes at them, but he was unable to hide his pride and the love he felt for his abnormal family.

Also available on AO3

This whole chapter is a journey of its own, but also part of a bigger one, which has been a joy to share with you all.

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @raina-at @helloliriels

More tags in the replies

[transexualpirate]

shirley: ive barely seen you this week, abed! what have you been doing?

abed, got caught in a love triangle with a pregnant woman, ran away from a man across campus and then helped said woman give birth in the back of a van: not much

[jimmyspades]

"When did you have your last abortion? Until you know everything that goes with it, don't you dare lecture me or anybody about–" "I know what goes with it! Obviously I haven't experienced the physical part, but I know the overwhelming emotion that goes with it. I know the sense of loss, I know the doubt, the guilt, so please, don't–" BOSTON LEGAL 5.08 "Roe"

[goldenbloodytears]

Controversial Danny headcanon time: do you think he'd hurt children? I feel like as much of a monster as he might be, he would at least have some limits like no killing kids. Of course maybe that's just cus he's my skrunkly and I don't like the idea of him doing that but what do you think?

Oh boy I love controversial asks, I’m not kidding. Thanks for the ask, anon :)

Putting this under a cut due to the subject matter it entails, there’s also a mention of pregnancy.

TLDR; is no, he would not target kids specifically.

So, I think for starters it depends on how we define kid—do we mean anyone under the age of 18? Or a prepubescent child? Generally, I see him being open to killing teenagers… but I feel like he might not get much out of killing young children.

I can explain this here, it’s pretty simple. Children make good witnesses. An orphaned child also creates a sob story, and it creates a sense of anxiety in parents about the concept of their own mortality. You get continued publicity by way of continued community engagement about how this poor little murder orphan is doing.

Killing a kid gets fear and outrage… but it’s going to get lost pretty quickly among the rest of the murders, and at most it…what? Makes parents sequester their kids in their homes more?

I think his primary targets are always adults, whether they be young college students barely out of highschool or Grandma Shirley who lives down the block. I think teens would be a spur of the moment kill, something to keep engagement up, or otherwise collateral victims if they happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when he’s targeting their parent(s).

Teens, like adults, are also a little bit better at trying to fight back. There’s going to be a little bit more of a thrill element related to it… whereas a child tends to have a very basic series of responses, cry, bite, scream, etc. They can’t really fight back… I honestly think he would probably only kill a kid if they posed a risk to him, like if his mask came off or something.

I think it’s a bit of a power complex thing… but I genuinely think he wouldn’t feel a need to target a child when his first kill was his dad. Like… if you can take out a middle aged man in presumably his prime… why would you need to purposely target children?

That’s Coward behaviour.

I think he wouldn’t target babies for the same reason (straight up just the baby scene from Halloween 2018).

I could see him maybe killing a pregnant woman though? Not entirely sold on this one. Feels a little dark, so maybe it would be the same as kids or teens where he doesn’t target them specifically, but it’s fair game when all bets are off.

ADDENUM: now that it’s been brought to my attention, I realize I failed to make one part clear. I think if he came up with a story that involved a child/pregnant person/a senior/ any sort of category that one might consider “bad to kill”…. I think he would still do it.

I think the story ultimately takes the priority, but it depends on what story he’s trying to tell.

Similarly, because his job as a reporter and interviewing family and friends is more likely to bring him into contact with other adults (since most people try to shield their kids and teens from horrible events)… the result still ends up being where he is more likely to focus on adults.

But I don’t really think it’s a “moral” decision. It’s based entirely on what he gets out of it.

[posarmeklen]

A couple of days after Reuben gave birth to his offspring, Shirley and the kids came to visit their weary, recovering, yet relieved manager in the hospital. Apparently, there are two sides to every story.

Indeed, in actuality… Shirley was unexpectedly the one who had to step in and act as chauffeur – she was preparing for a concert alone at home with around a half-hour to spare (Keith drove the rest of the kids to the venue, and Shirley was meeting them, for a plot-irrelevant reason), when Reuben knocked on the door. She was surprised to see him – although he was the family’s good friend and therefore would never truly stay away, he had officially embarked on a leave of absence given by his agency for the last few weeks of pregnancy. (How are talent managers afforded parental leave? Asking for a friend.)

Shirley looked him up and down with a subtle mixture of amusement and empathy on her face. He was dressed casually, in a plain T-shirt, comfortable slacks, and sneakers, and looked bigger than even the last time she had seen him. It wasn’t long following greeting each other that Reuben hissed in pain and pressed his hand to his side. “Oh - what’s the matter?!” asked Shirley, an expression nearly matching his briefly contorting her features. Reuben explained that he had been in intermittent discomfort since last night. “Shirley, on my way here? I almost had to pull over,” he divulged grimly. “Oh?” But soon enough, Reuben radically switched gears to cheerfully inquiring if she was doing anything today. “Yes, we have a concert.” “Today?” “Today. It’s the last one you booked us for before you left.” “Oh, right. Well, you know how it is. One day blends into the next when you’re living on PLST.” “P.L.S.T.?” “Parental…leave…standard time. Heh…” “Well. I don’t seem to remember that term from my days as a new parent. It must be some new-fangled invention from you ‘younger’ set!” Shirley made a mock-grandiose gesture before playfully rubbing Reuben’s shoulder.

She invited him inside while she retrieved some paperwork, the true reason for his appearance (he was tying up loose ends before the baby was born and things would change again). But of course, they got to talking on the sofa, Shirley expressing happily that it wouldn’t be long at all before the birth and going on to ask if he had spoken to his doctor about his recent pain (the answer was no, not yet; this caused him to reveal that there was a “last time” that turned out to be a mere false alarm). Reuben lamented just “knowing” that the pregnancy would last ridiculously long (“pregnant forever” fare – to be clear, he was just a week or two away from his due date) and that the birth would be especially traumatic, perhaps including some element that he suddenly mentioned to be present in his own birth, like the use of forceps, which resulted in him having a mildly “cone-shaped” head in the weeks following the day he was born. Reuben shook his head in disgust, while Shirley grimaced kindly at the unprovoked level of detail. (How can we forget classics such as “my mind was opened when I was nine” from the tag of the sex education episode? “Did I ever tell you about Penny Wentworth?” “Happily, no. 😊” “Well, Penny Wentworth and I…” *saved by an approaching Laurie*)

However, all it took was the most surefire sign of labor (the rather abrupt appearance of a telltale liquid on the furniture…), and the declaration by Shirley that a hospital trip was in order, to cause Reuben’s rapid pivot to “Now, Shirley, let’s not rush into things…” Nonetheless, Shirley was forced to move quickly, trying to keep her wits about her. I think she would be good in a crisis, given her compassionate, understanding, level-headed nature, and she’s of course a mom (she’s been in the other role in this situation more than once) – but that doesn’t mean she’s immune to a panicky surge of adrenaline in the face of a dear friend (who she still didn’t know intimately like that) about to give birth! Plus, she didn’t want to get Reuben more nervous than he certainly was (even if he hadn’t been showing it, it was so natural that she could assume), so she (only semi-successfully) attempted to maintain a composed exterior.

By the way, can you say “Shirley is missing her concert today”? Because Shirley is missing her concert today. My current thought is that her absence would oh-so-coincidentally give a flavor-of-the-week guest star a la Dora Kelly or Lavonne Laverne – this particular one would’ve acted as substitute manager while Reuben was out of commission, only for Reuben to still turn up like a bad penny, providing total backseat driver guidance – or their significant other to live their dream of performing on stage as a replacement (well, the replacement part probably wasn’t included in the dream. I meant the performing on stage part). I’m still working out the kinks (or, should I say, the Kincaids). Of course, Shirley called her children somewhere in the middle of all this, informing them of her whereabouts and the circumstance. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. They expected those kids to perform? After Shirley dropped the dreaded “our manager’s water broke” bomb? Fastest way to get my tambourine to fall right out of my newly cold, clammy hands.

Anyway, back at the house, the phone rang in the quasi-commotion (Reuben managed to confirm with Shirley, “You got that?”, almost a dig at his own sort-of incapacitation), and it turned out to be Bonnie Kleinschmidt, sexy stewardess extraordinaire, Reuben’s four-episode lover, and other parent of his unborn child. After calling Reuben’s apartment twice and receiving no answer, she remembered that she had the Partridges’ number for one reason or another, so she figured she might as well give it a try and ask if his favorite clients had seen him. Bonnie had no idea how in luck she was! Shirley confirmed vaguely that Reuben was actually with her at the moment and swallowed hard when the young woman asked to speak to him. “Bonnie. I don’t want you to be nervous, but I’m going to drive Reuben to the hospital,” said Shirley, and she explained that he was in labor more than once, as the big news was apparently falling on deaf (shocked) ears. “Well, can I talk to him?” Bonnie finally repeated. Resignedly, Shirley outstretched her arm to Reuben, who seemingly appeared out of thin air behind her post-pacing-the-floor to snatch the phone from her hand.

“Bonnie? Yes, it’s me. Bonnie, I want you to know, if anything happens…” Reuben rubbed his temple. “My mother’s gonna haggle with you about the apartment, the car. Maybe even the card table. Well, you heard it here first. I give you carte blanche!” Bonnie nodded once, quickly. “Put Shirley back on,” came the clipped, resolute response. “I – uh, I don’t want a big service.” “Put Shirley back on.” “Enough to fill a small banquet hall would be fine…” The tall, blond man leaned onto the half-wall separating the Partridges’ kitchen and living room, his words mildly strangled. “Reuben, you’re going to be okay. I said to give the phone back to Shirley,” Bonnie said, voice more deliberate and warmer now.

She agreed to meet the pair at San Pueblo General Hospital, and off Reuben and Shirley went in the latter’s station wagon. Reuben sat uncomfortably slumped in the passenger seat, elbow on the armrest and legs stretched out as far as they could go. “Step on it, Shirley…!” he said, momentarily removing his palm from his face to wave his hand in a rushed circular motion. “I’m climbing the walls here.” Later, he had the half-crazed pained hunch that he knew another route that could get them to their destination faster, so he reached across Shirley and moved the steering wheel, just enough for the car to swerve partially into the next lane. “Reuben! You’re going to drive us right off the road!” exclaimed Shirley over the angry sound of a horn, regaining control of the car. “That seems preferable to the current situation,” Reuben grumbled, before Shirley made a poignant clarifying statement that he would drive “all three of them” off the road (not to guilt him, but hopefully to somewhat ground him).

At the hospital, Shirley didn’t stay in the room for the birth (it wasn’t her place 😤), but she was a supportive presence until Bonnie and the formidable Clara Kincaid (btw, in terms of the actors who portray them in the show, both Shirley and Reuben weirdly have Wizard of Oz parents?) arrived. Shirley reassured Reuben that she knew he could pull through, and acknowledged how difficult things were before suggesting it would make him feel better to try to breathe. A short discussion about how it was impossible that he forgot how to do so apparently took Reuben over the edge. “I see your mouth moving, but I don’t know what you’re saying!” he told Shirley.

FYI - Truth be told, in this scenario’s “infancy”, I planned to make Reuben’s birth experience unusually smooth, short, and easy (a sort of subversion of his canon bad luck and harassment – that too made sense somehow), but in the end, I failed to resist the temptation of seeing him freak out in labor… it’s just too good! (Put your worries to rest - the pregnancy is still being cut mildly shorter than expected, and things moved fairly quickly from the arrival at the hospital onward. 😉)

Anyway, Bonnie finally came in the main entrance of the hospital, looking mildly disheveled – she had on jeans and a short-sleeved sweater, curls pulled back in a loose ponytail and messy tendrils framing her face. Asking the receptionist where Reuben was gave her some pause – their relationship was always tempestuous, and due to a multitude of factors (personal differences, Reuben’s commitment to the “bachelor” life and seeming intimacy issues, you name it) they decided to co-parent as single people rather than live as a “traditional” family. (Miss Kleinschmidt actually moved to LA to be closer to Reuben and their child, however, even though she didn’t make an honest man out of him. Also, I can picture the two faced much teasing from the Partridges in the first year or two of the baby’s life, much to their chagrin – ex. “Just get married, already! You guys bicker like you’re approaching your fortieth anniversary” from Keith.) Should she call him her partner? Father of her child? Her ex-boyfriend? “My…Reuben,” she settled on brilliantly.

In the end, it wasn’t until the unmistakable gasping cry of a newborn pierced the air that the medical personnel announced, “It’s a girl!” And you know what? I did some research (because, let’s face it, me and realism… we’re *tightly crosses my fingers* likethis!), and the act of discovering a fetus’s sex through ultrasound was JUST being established in the 1970s, if that. This was 1974-1975, and I doubt Reuben would’ve been on his toes with obstetric advances, so waiting until birth it was. The baby was gently placed on his chest, eliciting an expression of overwhelm and disbelief from him, eyes darting around at first like he wanted to say something.

An interesting tidbit about this baby is that she was granted the surname “Kincaid-Kleinschmidt”. It rolls right off the tongue! Apparently, Reuben had grown enough through recent experience that he was able to forgo some male arrogance in order to concede something significant to someone he cared about (even when he was the one in worse physical shape at the moment, to say the least – this was decided during the pregnancy). “Well, we’re not married, and you’re the baby’s mother,” he had reasoned in conversation with Bonnie. His child’s full name is Cynthia Kincaid-Kleinschmidt. The very profound highly-anticipated reason behind “Cynthia” is that it was a common girls’ name in the 70s and Reuben would probably be conservative with first name choices. He and Bonnie just thought it sounded nice.

This brings us again to the Partridges coming to visit in the hospital. Reuben’s daughter cried in his arms, as babies do. “It’s ok,” Danny comforted her. “I cry too when I see Mr. Kincaid!” All Reuben could do was shoot him an exasperated look, a smile tugging at his mouth. Of course, someone ended up making a crack about the “soiled” couch at home, which Reuben then took as an opportunity to express a more genuine sentiment to the matriarch of the family. “I…I don’t know what to say, Shirley,” he told her. “I’m forever in your debt.” “Well, sure. I suppose I must’ve just not read the fine print about my side of the deal in our contract. Personal driver, midwife…” she rambled on cheekily, before breaking into a heartfelt grin. “It’s no problem, Reuben. I would do it a hundred times over if it meant you and little Cynthia would be alright.”

Reuben would remain in the hospital for around a week after the birth – apparently, in the Partridges’ day, it was customary for people who gave birth to stay for 5-10 days or so (or so I remember reading, as opposed to most cases now, where it’s a much shorter duration), while their rest and recuperation was prioritized and they cared for their baby only during allotted times (for the rest of the time, the staff looked after them). Huh! The more you know! When it came time, his mother drove the new parents and child home, Reuben and Bonnie sharing the backseat with Cynthia. Ahh, happy for those kids.

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Where do I begin ?

Songfic!

Alastor x Fem! Reader

Nav !

Note : For context, Alastor & the reader are the same age. Both born 1900. The last two digits of the year is basically their age.

Warnings: Mentions of Racism, Pinning ( mutual ), swearing, 1920’s - 1930’s, Warning: sexual assault, mentions of killing, cannibalism

tags: @littlebatsimagines

Song by : Shirley Bassey

━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━ ( scene changes )

Where do I begin

To tell the story of how great a love can be?

The sweet love story that is older than the sea

The simple truth about the love he brings to me

Where do I start?

1913 : 8th Grade Lunch Date

“ He definitely likes you Y/n.” My friend says as we sit at the table eating our lunch. On one side of the field, are tables for the white kids. On the other side, are little spots of cement where the colored kids sit. In the middle, is a lot of grass, where there’s a large tree in the middle. Under said tree, is Alastor, the schools outcast, but one of the smartest kids out there. Alastor stuck out like a sore thumb, poor thing was never dark enough to sit with the colored kids, but the white kids never wanted anything to do with him because he was mixed.

White father, black mother. It was the talk of the town when his momma was pregnant. When he was born, it was all anyone would do. As time went on, he joined the local school, and studied hard. He didn’t have many friends, and everyone always stood away from him. Regardless, he always wore that lovely smile that his teachers praised him for. He was a good kid, just not with the right crowd.

“ I don’t know. He doesn’t seem like he does.” I said, before my friend rolled her eyes, taking her lunch out of her bag.

“ Well even if he doesn’t, best not talk to ‘em again. Y’know your daddy will have you at it if he finds out you been talking to a colored boy.” My friend says, giving me that ‘ don’t do nothing stupid’ look. At that , I stare over at him, watching him eating his lunch. Around him is a small blanket, napkins and forks and knives being used ad he eats his lunch, and I smile to myself as he enjoys his meal.

“ I know I know. I’ll be fine, and he will too. We just don’t need to talk to each other.” I said, taking a bite of my sandwich.

“ Or you could give that fella a chance.” She said, before nodding her head over to one of the nearby tables.

Tommy, or also known as Thomas Vanguard. One of the richest white kids, despite our economy going down in flames.

“ Uh, I don’t really know.” I said, before she laughed.

“ Well too late, he’s already comin’ over.” She said, before my eyes widened. As I turned, I saw Tommy walking over. Oh please no. I was about to get up and walk away when I felt someone sit across from me on the bench. My friend and I turned in our seats to see who was there, it surely wasn’t Tommy.

Silence. The entire courtyard went silent.

Alastor was sitting at my table. Where all the white kids sat. Where colored kids couldn’t sit.

Until now.

“ AHH! Alastor sat at my table!” My lunch mate yelled, grabbing her lunch and running from our table. All the other kids gave the same reaction, running away to our fancy school building. I sat still, staring at him as everyone else ran away.

“ Hello.” I say, extending my hand out to shake. His eyes brightened, before he shook my hand eagerly. “ Momma says not to let people sit alone. “ I say, as I pick up my sandwich to continue eating.

“ Your momma sounds nice.” Alastor says, fixing his glasses. His skin is a caramel color, his brown hair swooped neatly to the sides and out of his face. His cheeks give a light blush, likely from the Louisiana heat.

“ I like to think she is. She can be mean sometimes though.” I say, chewing my food. Alastor smiles, before he continues his food as well. The lunch period goes smoothly from there out.

Even though the day after all the kids stood away from me because I was ‘dirty.’

Like a summer rain

That cools the pavement with a patent leather shine

He came into my life and made the living fine

And gave a meaning to this empty world of mine

He fills my heart

1915 : Highschool Newspaper

News: Black boys 12 and 13 lynched and hung at local park.

It’s all anyone’s talking about. Mainly because their brother’s been raging to the police since the whole thing happened. My best friend Mandy told me. Of course she would know, she’s his girlfriend. But no one knows.

It technically isn’t even allowed. A white girl with a black boy? It’s completely unheard of. But Mandy keeps it strictly secret. They’re never caught with one another, and even add extra arguments in public here and there to add some belief.

But I know it isn’t true. I also know that Alastor is gonna write an entire report down on it, and talk to me like if he’s one of those big fancy radio hosts I heart Tommy talk about during lunch.

“ My Daddy got my momma this cool radio, and it has this guy talking in it. It’s so cool, he sounds like a yankee.” Is usually what Tommy always says, and then he tells everyone what the radio guy says about the North.

━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━

“ Oh M’ so sorry miss.” I hear, as I bump into someone. I stumble back and blink, pulling myself out of my daze.

“ Oh no no it’s alright. I wasn’t really paying all that attention.” I say, bending down to grab my fallen books. The boy in front of me does the same, to help me.

“ Y/n?” I hear a few feet away from me. I turn my head to find my teacher.

“ Are my cheaters cheatin me or am I seeing a colored boy with one of my students?” She asked, clearly confused. I felt my blood race, before my books were shoved into my hands.

“ I was just going to the principals office miss. Please don’t mind me.” The boy said, before my teacher rolled her eyes at him.

“ If you people would’ve been raised better maybe I wouldn’t have a problem with you.” She said before pulling a cigarette out from her pocket and lighting it. The boy lowered his head before quickly squeezing between the two of us to get by.

“ M’ sorry Misses, really was my mistake.” He said quietly as he left. When he was gone, she blew out the smoke from her cigarette.

“ Now you listen to me girl, and you listen good.” She said, pointing at me. “ Stay away from those colored folk. You never gonna be on their level so don’t try to be. Now get to class.” She said.

Oh how my blood boiled.

He fills my heart with very special things

With angel's songs, with wild imaginings

He fills my soul with so much love

That anywhere I go, I'm never lonely

With him along who could be lonely?

I reach for his hand, it's always there

1917 : High school Dance

I don’t know if this is good enough. More importantly, I don’t know how I’m gonna be able to get into the dance without my parents finding out. Would they even let me into a colored folk dance? I don’t see why not.

“ Y/n are you ready to go?” Mandy asks me from my window. She’s hanging on for dear life while I scramble to find the lipstick I need. The lipstick he likes the most.

“ Yeah just a minute.” I said, going through my vanity as quietly as possible.

“ Aw, trynna get all dolled up for Al~?” She asked, wiggling her brows. I rolled my eyes and almost jumped out of my skin when I found the lipstick I needed.

“ Okay, let’s go.” I said, before she grinned. Off we were to the dance.

“ We made it!” Mandy said as she hugged her boyfriend, who despite having a rough year, was happy to be with her.

“ Thanks for comin’. Sure they won’t have a problem?” He asked Mandy, before she shook her head.

“ No they won’t. Right Y/n?” She asked, before I shrugged, looking around the courtyard for Alastor. The party for the colored kids had been in a more quiet side of town. But that didnt mean it was easy to find someone.

“ des fleurs pour la fille?” I heard, as flowers were placed in front of me. Red roses. Wrapped in a tight red ribbon, with white fabric holding it together.

“ I didn’t know you knew french.” I said, as my eyes widened, gently taking the flowers from his grasp. I was greeted with a kiss to my temple, and his hand resting on my lower back.

“ Of course. It’s in my mothers nature after all. I hope you do enjoy tonight.” Alastor said, before offering me his arm. I took hold of it and we began to walk to the party.

“ I love the flowers by the way, they’re beautifully wrapped.” I said, before he smiled.

“ Perfect. Saved up just enough." Alastor said with a wink.

" How much was it?" I asked, before Alastor laughed, pushing the door open to the run down barn, which was where the dance would be held.

" Oh don't worry about that dear, we're here to have fun not to worry about expenses." He said, before handing our tickets to a teacher, who eyed the both of us curiously.

" Honey you sure you in the right dance?" The woman asked, taking our tickets. I nodded with a smile, before Alastor led me to the dance floor.

It's two in the morning, and the street lights are dim. All the lights on the street are out, everyone's sleeping. The flowers are still in my hand, shoes in my other as Alastor and I walk down the street to my home, the dance ending after hours of fun.

" Did you enjoy yourself?" Alastor asks, before I nod, smiling wide.

" I've never had that much fun in my life. Thank you for letting me go." I say with a smile as we approach my front steps. I walk up the first few, as Alastor stands on the pavement. I turn, waiting for him to follow.

" Can I...?" He asks, gesturing to the steps. I nod, as he steps up to walk with me to my front door.

" I hate that things are like this." I say as we stop at my front door. Alastor smiles, a sad smile, as he fixes my hair.

" Things will get better. Promise." He said, before bending down to kiss my forehead. " I'll get a real fancy job, we'll get a nice house with a pretty little yard, and we can dance as much as you want." He said, smiling. I knew that smile, that smile that he gave when talking as if he was on the radio, or when he was talking about something good that had happened with his mother at work.

" You sure?" I ask, before he nods.

" Of course. We'll get away from here, far away. New Orleans, just us." He says, before he pulls me in for a hug. " Don't ever doubt it." Alastor says, before I hug him back, ignoring the teardrops that fall on my shoulder.

How long does it last? Can love be measured by the hours in a day? I have no answers now, but this much I can say I'm going to need him 'til the stars all burn away And he'll be there

1919: The first bite

Twelve stations. Twelve stations that said no to him. All giving the same answer.

" You think people gonna wanna hear a colored boy on the radio? You best be trynna trick me if you think for a second you comin' in here." Was what they would say, and every time Alastor would come home with that smile on his face, despite the break in his heart.

" Any luck?" I ask, as his mother sets his food on the table, which I hand him his glass of wine.

" No, not today." He says, before he cuts a piece of his steak. His mother and I share a look, pity of course, but she's also hurt.

" Baby those people don't know who they just said no too. You're a man full of talent." His mother says, reaching over to fix his hair. " Now you just keep trying, someone outta give you something." She said, before he just nodded, his smile faltering for a moment before he sighed.

" Thank you for the food.” He said, as he took his napkin and put it around his neck, tucking it into his shirt.

“ Of course honey.” His mother said, before she stood up. “ Oh I almost forgot.” She said, before walking out of the kitchen. I began to eat the food she made, while Alastor stared at the door in confusion.

“ How was work today dear?” Alastor asks, his usually smile appearing again. I smiled to him and took a sip of the wine.

“ It was alright, some people weren’t exactly happy with their food choices.” I said, as Alastor nodded.

“ I found it!” Alastor’s mother says as she comes back into the dining room. She smiles as she sets down a small box in front of Alastor.

“ You might wanna open it.” She said to Alastor, who stared at the box with a confused smile. He lifted the lid to the small box, before his eyes widened.

“ What’s this?” He asked, before she smiled and took her seat.

“ It was your grandmothers. I found it this morning.” She said, before he smiled. Alastor looked up at me, before turning the box to face me. Inside was a ring, a gold ring with a ruby in the middle, surrounded by little diamonds.

“ She took it from a family she was working for. Her contract was up but they hadn’t given her half of what they promised. So she took that as compensation. She really meant to sell it but she liked it so much she kept it.” His mother explained, before Alastor turned the box so he could look at it again. “ Well? What do you think?” His mother asks, before he turns to look at her. The two exchange a look I can’t quite place, but he shuts the box and puts it in his mothers hand.

“ It’s beautiful.” He said, before smiling to her, and then looking at me with a smile.

━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━

“ Y/n, someone’s here to see you.” Mandy called to me, before I took my apron off. Working at the towns diner was not an easy job. But I was finally on my break.

“ Comin’” I said, before I pushed the door that led from the kitchen to the restaurant, walking around tables and people. “ Someone needed me?” I asked, as I approached the front desk, before Mandy pointed to the door. I turned around to see Alastor, standing there with a bouquet of flowers.

“ Oh, Alastor these are beautiful.” I say, walking over to him as he smiled. When I do reach him, he bends down to give me a kiss, before handing me the flowers. There are all sorts of flowers in the bouqet, some Asters, Carnations, Roses of course, Camellia’s, a few Calla Lily’s.

“ I'm taking you out for lunch.” He said, tapping the edge of my nose. Quickly, he helped me put my jacket on, and off we were to have a lovely lunch together, where I later found out, he had finally gotten a shot to have his own radio studio.

1922: Consequences

It all happened so fast. There was nothing I could do to stop him, to stop it from happening. One moment I had been in the bathroom at work and the next I'm on the floor in tears trying to get Tommy off me. Yet nothing worked.

" Mandy I don't feel so good. I'm going home." I say, grabbing as Tommy grins at me from his table with his friends. Mandy looks at me concerned before she just nods silently.

" Feel better Y/n." Mandy says, but it's too late. I'm already pushing the glass doors and out I am onto the sidewalk of the busy street walking myself home as quickly as possible. My legs are shaky, and I can barely breathe as I open my front door, and shut it behind me. I couldn't stop thinking about it, about what he'd done to me. I kick my heels off, sobbing as I throw my jacket to the ground, letting my hair down and making my way towards my bedroom.

How dare he? How dare he do this to me? Why couldn't I stop him? Why didn't I do something? Why didn't I say something? I should've fought back harder, done something, been stronger. I turn and shut the door to my bedroom, before finding a corner near my window to curl up in, hugging my knees to my chest as I feel myself collapse on the ground, the only thing I can think of being Tommy's words.

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( Events before leaving )

" If you were with me, you wouldn't need to work in this shitty diner." Tommy said, before I hear a click. I look up, staring at Tommy in the mirror.

" I actually like working here thank you very much." I say, before I move to dry my hands with a towel from my apron. Quickly, his hand grabs my shoulder to turn me around, before his hand is cupping the bottom of my chin, squeezing the sides of my face. He's angry.

" Don't give me an attitude bitch. Word's been flying 'round you been with that mixed guy. How's he treatin' ya' huh? Bet he beats you,-" Tommy said, before shoving my face to the side so hard I fall to the ground, putting my hands out to support me. No lunch, my wrist breaks. I cry out in pain, before Tommy grabs my hair to pull be up just enough to see my face.

" What? Not used to it? Those colored folk's aint got nothing better to do than beat their women. You ain't nothing special." He said, before he slapped me. I pushed myself up with my other arm, trying to hit him back, before his knee came in contact with my stomach, airing me out. " Now you just sit there and look pretty while I show you how a real man feels. Maybe then you'll get your senses straight, 'stead of bein' dirty." And then it happened. Bottoms torn off my legs, no matter how hard I kicked or tried to hit him, nothing. I couldn't do a damn thing. All while he had his way with me. Stupid son of a bitch.

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( author's POV )

Alastor opens the front door, sighing as he takes a step into his home, finally done with the day he had at work. It only when he steps on Y/n's jacket, that he realizes something is wrong. He takes a moment to stop, staying quiet. He hears something, and when he finally realizes what it is.

He. Is. Livid.

Alastor sets his belongings down on a nearby table, before he makes his way upstairs, as calm as he can possibly be. The closer he gets, the louder Y/n's sobs are.

" Darling? Are you alright?" Alastor asks, approaching their bedroom door. No response. But the sobs don't stop. He frowns, his body beginning to shake, his nerves getting the best of him. " I'm going to open the door." Alastor says, waiting a moment for a response, before he turns the handle to the door. He looks around for a moment, before he spots her sitting near the window, on the floor in the corner. She's holding the curtain in her hand, her face stuffed into it as she sobs. Alastor begins slow, walking towards her, studying her frame. It's only when he notices the harsh color of her wrist that alarms begin to go off in his mind. He kneels down, now in front of Y/n, before he speaks again.

" Y/n?" He asks. No response, just sobs. " Dear what happened?" He asks. At that, Y/n lifts her head to stare at him. It's then Alastor realizes that whatever did happen, was very serious. Alastor doesn't speak as his hands reach for Y/n's arms, slowly pulling her as he stands, before he brings her in for a hug. " Whenever your ready, I'm here to listen." Alastor said, before he felt Y/n's hand hold onto his side.

" It was e-earlier." Y/n said between breaths, obviously struggling to speak. Alastor pulled back and stared down at her, before he saw how red her neck was. Not just red though, there were hickie's. All over her neck, and a large hand print in the middle. Like if she was being choked. The sides of her face were bruised, harsh black and blues appearing on her skin. As Alastor continued to take her state in, he saw bruises on her arms as well.

" Who did this to you?" He asked, stern. She stared, unsure of what to say. There was this look on his face she couldn't describe. His aura grew darker the longer she took to answer, as Alastor began to trace over the marks on her skin with his fingertips lightly. It had taken her a second to register what he was doing.

He was securing it. Like reassuring himself they were real, that this, what was happening, was real.

" Y/n, Dear, who did this to you?" He asked again, losing his patience. His mind was running through all sorts of things, his mind focused on the amount of rage he felt.

" ... Tommy."

That was it. Y/n stood, unsure of what to do as she watched Alastor frame shake, like a shiver. As if he was cold. He wasn't. His skin was burning hot, and as he pulled Y/n into a hug she could feel the anger seeping off of him as she cried into his chest.

" Alastor I'm so so so sorry. I tried to stop him, I really did." She said, before she pulled away from him as Alastor looked down at her, shaking his head.

" Don't be sorry. This isn't your fault. He is disgusting, and you are beautiful. He wanted to ruin you, and you didn't let him." Alastor said, wiping away the tears that continued to fall from her eyes. " How did this happen?" He asks, his tone softer now as he pulled Y/n to sit on the bed as he walked towards their bathroom. Her wrist was swollen, Alastor had pretty much guessed it was either sprained or broken. Either way, Tommy was definitely going to be his next victim.

" Your arm dear." Alastor said, as he sat back down next to Y/n, an ice pack in one hand while wrapping her wrist with the other. " Now, tell me how it started." Alastor said, before Y/n took a deep breath before she began explaining.

" I had went to the restroom at work, some customer had spilled water on me, it was an accident though. I was washing my hands, and when I looked up in the mirror I saw Tommy there. He locked the door to the bathroom and started talking. He said something about me being with him and if I was I wouldn't have to work in that diner." Y/n said, before Alastor let out a 'mhm', signaling her to continue.

" I told him I actually liked working there, and he grabbed my face and told me not to disrespect him. He called me a bitch." Y/n said, before Alastor looked at her, stopping his motions.

".. continue." He said, before moving to press the ice pack to her wrist.

" T-then, he said that word had been goin' 'round that I was with a, as he put it, 'mixed guy', and then asked how that was going for me. Then he said he bets you beat me, and then he pushed me to the floor. That's how I hurt my wrist." She explained, before Alastor nodded at her to continue, moving to check for any cuts he might need to treat on her. " After he did that he was all like, 'What? Not used to it?' and then he said colored folks don't have anything better to do than beat their women. Then he said I wasn't anything special, and he told me to sit there and just look pretty while he showed me what a feels like. He said maybe then I would get my senses straight and stop being dirty..." Y/n said, leaving out the portion of him airing her out, to not get Alastor upset.

Alastor was silent for a moment. His mind mulling over the information he had just been given. Y/n had assumed he'd been calm enough to receive the extra information.

" While I was on the ground, he also hit me, with his knee... in my stomach..." Y/n said, nervous of Alastor's reaction. He didn't say much. He was quiet.

" I'll have a talk with him tomorrow. Take the rest of this week off, I want you here, and if you go out I want you with someone so you aren't alone. You need medical help right now, I'll talk to my mother since she isn't far." Alastor said, as he stood up, quickly putting things away.

" W-wait, can't we talk about this first? I don't want him to get in trouble he might try to hurt you-"

" Y/n, I don't give a damn about what he wants to do to me! It's the fact he's gotten to you, he's hurt you, and I wasn't there to stop him. No one was!" Alastor said, stopping in front of the bed. He was upset, so much so that a tear fell from his eye, before he wiped it away. Y/n stood from the bed, but never moved to Alastor.

" I can heal from this, we can move on. I just don't want this to be a big thing." Y/n said, before Alastor stood quiet.

" It won't be. Just, let me deal with it. Stay here, relax." Alastor said walking over to Y/n to run his hands down the sides of her arms. " I promise I won't make this a big ordeal. My mother should be by shortly after I speak wit her. Until then, get yourself comfortable, be careful with your write, and wait for me to get back, alright?" Alastor asked, before Y/n nodded.

" Alright. I love you." Y/n said, looking up at Alastor, waiting for him to say it back.

" I love you too darling."

1923: Fresh Start in the French Quarter

Tommy had opened his big mouth to the entire town about Alastor and Y/n's relationship. The entire town had shunned the both of them for it, Y/n's parents officially cutting her off for good, their suspicions being correct. After that christmas, Alastor and Y/n had began to take trips to New Orleans regularly, looking for a house to by. Alastor had gotten a better job, with much higher pay. Alastor had let Y/n choose whatever house she wanted, and when she finally settled on one, he also made sure to higher movers, and of course there's the paint job and furniture.

Though the cost was something Alastor would never allow her to see, the house made her happy, and that was more than enough for him. As he had told her, " Whatever my love wants, my love gets."

The neighborhood was nice, a lot of land was also nice too, aside from the grass growing extremely fast, but the man who would mow the lawn every week was nice so there was a plus. Y/n didn't need to work anymore, since Alastor made enough for the both of them to live comfortably. The lifestyle the two had changed over too had went from simple and comfortable, just barely making it by, to lavish and extravagant.

Since moving to New Orleans people had been kinder to the two of you. As well as the two of you getting married. It was a small wedding, consisting of Alastor's mother, Mandy and her husband Clarence. A few coworkers, Alastor's uncle who was just happy to be there. The people from his mother's church who had a great time at the afterparty.

Alastor never did tell you what he did to Tommy, but that was alright. He wasn't your problem anymore.

He fills my heart with very special things With angels' songs, with wild imaginings He fills my soul with so much love That anywhere I go, I'm never lonely With him along, who could be lonely? I reach for his hand, it's always there

1925: the first letter

(Y/n's POV )

" Honey could you get the mail for me? Hand's are all covered in dirt." Alastor said, before I nodded. I had walked to the front of the lawn to open our mailbox, pulling the papers out.

"Hm. Bills, bills, more bills, bills, and, a letter?" I stop. It's addressed to me. But the address is unfamiliar. I take the mail inside and walk to the dining room to open the letter. Alastor is in the mud room, removing the gardening equipment and dirt. I open the letter, before taking the pages out from inside. There's three pages, but all are covered in black ink. Except for the second page, with the words in the middle of the page reading.

Your Husband murdered the love of my life.

Silence. I don't know who this person is. I don't know where this letter is from. I don't know who this letter is from. They must have the wrong house. My husband would never kill anyone. As upset as he gets, he wouldn't hurt a fly.

" I think we can start on dinner now." Alastor said, as I slipped the letter back into the envelope.

" What do you wanna make tonight?" I ask as we both walk into the kitchen. Alastor moves to the freezer to grab out meat while I go through our cabinets to see what we have.

" Hm, what about Chili? Never hurt anyone, haven't had any in a while." He said, before I sighed.

" Chili is the worst thing to make though." I whine, before Alastor chuckles and sets the mean down on the island in the middle of the kitchen.

" Why don't we go out then? I get my chili, you don't need to help make it. How does that sound?" Alastor asks, before I smile.

" We can go see the band right?" I ask, before Alastor nods.

" If that's what you wanna do." He said with a grin, before I smiled and kissed his cheek.

" Get your dancin' shoes. Date night!" I say as I practically sprint out of the kitchen as Alastor laughs from his place in the kitchen.

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2 weeks later : Letter two

This letter is different. The first two pages are covered in black ink, the third page being the only one that has writing. It reads.

" I know you got my last letter. Your husband is a killer. Don't deny the truth." Right in the center of the page. My hands shake as I read it, before I shut the front door, locking it tight. I begin to walk around our house, the house we bought together. The house that we danced in together, cooked together, had gatherings together. Everything.

I came across his study, where I never really entered much, since I allowed it to be just him, his personal space. Like my own study, which was really more like a library since we had shared books in there. I opened the door, but never stepped in, curious as to what he would have hidden away. The door opens fully to reveal a minimalistic room. There are papers on his desk, a desk lamp, newspapers on the side, file cabinets, a radio, a journal. Wait, a journal? I never knew he had a journal.

I step into the room, making my way over to his desk, and reaching for the journal. I flip through the pages, skimming over the words, before something catches my eye.

Tommys name.

I continue to read, reading the journal and the pages that follow up until the very latest entry. I learn all sorts of things after reading this journal, and when I place it back down on the desk I want to run out of his study. But I don't. I put it down, exactly where I found it, and exit the room. Shutting the door tightly, and leaving the house all together. Just to walk. To clear my mind. After reading his journal I learn a number of things.

First, that Tommy is dead. Alastor killed him after Tommy assaulted me at work, and took the liberty of dismembering him and even cooking some of his intestines. Second, the meat that is stored in our freezer, the meat I've been eating for years, is from actual people. Their dead, cut up bodies are the things I've been preparing every night like it's the best thanksgiving turkey anyone's ever gonna eat. Third, his mother has been getting a good portion of his check every month. There isn't a problem with that, she's a lovely woman.

But, it was the most recent entry that made my spine tingle the most.

Alastor and I had never been intimate with one another. We both had our reasons, I had been saving it till marriage, but after Tommy I hadn't been comfortable with anyone ever potentially seeing me like that again, and Alastor had never tried so it just mutually never happened. There wasn’t an easy way to put it really, in some pages of the journal he had stated he wanted to show me how to kill, to take me with him for these murders. That it would get him, excited, to think about.

I guess this is the part where I call the cops. Tell them my husband is a cruel heartless killer, that he stores remains of these dead bodies in our freezer for us to eat.

But I won’t. I can’t. Because despite knowing all this. I still love him.

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That night: Dinner

( Author’s POV )

“ Dinner is served.” Y/n says, placing Alastor’s plate of food in front of him. He smiles as she leans down to kiss him on the cheek, fixing his handkerchief around his neck. She moves to her seat, across from him, and situates herself. Immediately, he begins to dig in, cutting away at the meat with a bloodlust look in his eye she had never noticed up until now.

“ I hope you enjoy it. Took a long time to season it properly.” Y/n said, as she began to eat as well, never once touching the meat on her plate.

“ Really? Did we not have enough spices? I can run out tomorrow and get some more if you need some.” Alastor said, before taking another bite out of his food.

“ No, we had enough spices. I just wanted to season it enough so I’m not distracted by the fact it’s from a human.” Y/n says, before putting a spoonful of food in her mouth. Alastor stops, frozen as if she was crazy. He’s silent, they both are. Alastor sits there tense, expecting police officers to round the corner of his home, he thinks this is it for him.

“ What are you talking about?” Alastor asks, before Y/n looks up at him from her seat.

“ I found your journal.” Y/n says.

“ You went into my study?” Alastor asks, trying hard to mask the annoyance in his voice. He fails.

“ Yes. I’ll tell you why.” Y/n says, before she pulls out two envelopes from behind her, tossing it towards Alastor as it slides across the table to him. He stares at them curiously, before he reaches forward to open it.

“ When did you get these?” Alastor said, losing his usual smile.

“ I got the first letter maybe, two weeks ago.” Y/n says, before Alastor’s eyes flicker to her’s for a second, before back down to the letters. “ I got the second one today. I’m sure there’s going to be a third.” Y/n says, not failing to notice Alastor’s grip on his knife tighten.

“ Why didn’t you tell me about this?” He asks, sternly.

“ I didn’t believe them. There was no reason to tell you if I didn’t believe it.” Y/n said, standing from her seat.

“ Y/n, did you… tell anyone?” Alastor asks, his eyes pleading with her. As if he was sorry. She knew he wasn’t.

“ Don’t look at me like that .” Y/n said, the pain in her voice obvious.

“ Did you?” He asks.

“ No. I didn’t.”

Silence. Neither one of them say a thing. Alastor stands from his seat, putting his knife down.

“ Do you hate me?” Alastor asks, refusing to look at her now. No response.

Y/n isn’t sure what to do. She’d figured he’d kill her by now.

“ Do you still love me?” Alastor asked, and the crack in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. Y/n hadn’t even realized she had started crying, and he was too. No response.

Alastor didn’t say anything after that. He left the letters on the table, before he exited the dining room. Y/n sighed, letting the tears fall. Y/n also exited the dining room, not sure where he could have gone. The house was huge, big enough to get lost in. Room by room, Y/n checked for him, now desperately trying to fix her mistake.

When Y/n made it to their bedroom, she found money sitting on their bed, all of his belongings gone. Was he leaving? Now the panic had set in.

“ Alastor!” Y/n called, running through the halls, checking for him where ever she could. practically jumping down the stairs when she saw him at the front door.

“ Alastor where are you going?” Y/n asked, panting wildly. Alastor didn’t answer. “ Alastor please.” Y/n said, before Alastor took his coat off it’s hanger.

“Y/n please, stop.” He said, pinching the bridge of his nose, his glasses moving upwards slightly.

“ No. Don’t you dare tell me to stop.” Y/n said, before she began to walk down the stairs.

“ Yes dear.” Alastor said, allowing her to continue, because he knew she would.

“ I don’t want your money.” She said, putting it on one of his suitcases. “ I don’t care about that. For Christ’s sake I don’t care about our house, or our cars or anything!” Y/n said, crying again. Alastor frowned.

“ Then what do you care about?” Alastor asked.

“ You! I care about you Alastor! Not the stupid front you put up, no, I care about you! Even if you are a killer, so be it I don’t care!” Y/n said, before she moved closer to him before reaching into his pocket. She was right, there it was. The knife he wrote about. The one he always had with him. She also knew he had one strapped to him under his shirt, on his arm. “ If you think I don’t care then shut me up.” Y/n said, putting the knife between the two of them.

“ Are you asking me to kill you?” Alastor asked, confused.

“ No. I’m telling you if you don’t like what I’m saying, or don’t think it’s real. Shut. Me. Up.” She said, putting the knife to his chest.

“ I thought you didn’t love me anymore.” Alastor said, head hanging low.

“ I do. I do love you.” Y/n said, as the knife fell to the ground. Y/n hugged him, and he hugged her back with just as much force, if not more, than she did. “ I will always love you.” Y/n said, gently running her fingers down his back.

“ You wont tell anyone right?” Alastor asked, before Y/n shook her head.

“ No, not ever. I promise.” Y/n said. “ Thank you.” She told him.

“ For what?” Alastor asked, mind going blank for a moment.

“ Getting rid of Tommy.” She said.

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1932: ‘Till death do we part

She knew she could’ve told the police. She knew she should’ve. But she didn’t have the heart to tell.

Even as she watched every night, accompanied Alastor on his hunts, as he liked to call it, she still loved him.

Even when they were both all bloody, screams of a victim trying to get away, you could still feel the love between them. As odd as it may sound.

But neither one of them cared. Even when Alastor had gotten caught, when he died, she still loved him even in death. Everyone had assumed she’d taken her own life because she was devastes over him being a killer.

Oh no. They couldn’t be more wrong.

She died because she couldn’t live without him. Even in their final moments together, the only thing either cared about, was each other.

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1935: Caught

Despite them both being dead, it was only in 1935 that Y/n had finally been caught as his accomplice. Police had went through their entire house, searching through their personal items, bibles, food. Asking the help of their co-workers, house keepers, friends, family. Anyone, if they had any suspicions.

Now, they’re graves lay near one another, flowers being brought every few weeks by only Alastor’s mother, who still loved them both dearly.

“ I always knew he was a troubled child I just, thought it was because of the kids at school, and the stress of the finances.” Alastor’s mother told the police.

“ What about Y/n?” The officer asked, before his mother shook her head.

“ Oh no. She was always such a sweet girl. I never would’ve thought she would do something like that. I always knew she loved my son, but I never thought they would do that.” His mother confessed.

“ Do you have an idea as to why Alastor took the fall for the whole thing? I mean, he could’ve easily put it on Y/n when he found out the we would be searching for him.” The officer said before Alastor’s mother sighed.

“ Well, my son was in love with her, goodness. That boy would go on and on for hours about her if he could. He probably didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.” His mother said.

“ Do you think if he would have had too, he would’ve sacrificed himself for her?” The officer asked.

“ Oh yes. Of course. He would do anything he needed too to keep her safe. Why do you think he killed Tommy? He beat Y/n.” Alastor’s mother said, before the officer went silent.

“ So your saying, Alastor killed for her?” The officer asked.

“ Well, I don’t know if that’s exactly why. But I could assume so. She knew all the victims, and he’d tell me how much she’d dislike them. He was clearly trying to make her happy.” His mother said. The officer nodded, writing everything down. Now it all made sense.

How long does it last?

Can love be measured by the hours in a day?

I have no answers now, but this much I can say

I'm going to need him 'til the stars all burn away

And he'll be there

[peterpparkrr]

Hurry down the chimney tonight

peterpparkrr’s 12 days of holiday drabbles

6. Christmas party + Roy Kent

Summary: You’re the 2 sober people at the work Christmas party.

“You’re not drinking,” You comment as you wander over to where Roy Kent is leaning against the bar, his standard beer bottle noticeably absent from his hand, instead replaced by a water.

He grunts in response.

“Don’t tell me you’re pregnant,” You tease.

“You’re not drinking either,” Roy comments as he gestures down at the Ginger Ale in your own hand. “Something you want to tell me?”

You shrug as you smirk back at him.

“My niece tricked me into doing a dry December,” He tells you with a sigh.

“Isn’t it supposed to be dry January?” You ask as your brow furrows.

“Ask Pheobe,” Roy grumbles.

“I’ll have to.”

“You’re not actually pregnant are you?” Roy suddenly asks. 

“No,” You reply with a giggle. “I’m babysitting Keely and Rebecca. They just enable each other when they drink together so I'm trying to rein them in.”

“The owner and social media manager of the club being flight risks does not fill me with confidence about the organization,” Roy comment as he sees Rebecca and Keely shouting the words to “Santa Baby” at each other while laughing uncontrollably.

“But a coach who’s in the palm of his eight-year-old niece is normal?” You tease as you raise an eyebrow at him. While he just glares back at you you shake your head. “I’m kidding, I happen to think it’s adorable.”

“Team solicitor’s gotta watch out for liability,” You add. “And if I’m going to get messy I’ll do it when I’m not on the clock.”

“Good to know,” Roy replies.

“You know what?” You say. “I think Ted’s more than capable of making sure Rebecca and Keely get home safe, what do you say we go get a drink not in the same room as our bosses? I’ll even order you a Shirley Temple and pretend it’s for me.”

Roy glances at you but nods. “Sure.” 

“Can you get our coats? I’ll say our goodbyes and meet you at the door in 10,” You tell him as you glance around. “Ehh, fifteen since Ted’s had a few.”

Roy nodded again as you set off to say goodnight to your coworkers.

“Finally asked out the lovely lawyer did ya?” An unmistakable southern twang asks as Roy turns around to see Ted grinning at him.

“Ted,” Roy greets him.

“Beard’s gonna owe me five pounds, he didn’t think you’d do it before the holidays. Oh boy! I feel like the cat that’s caught the canary!” Ted hoots. 

“You bet a fiver on me asking her out?” Roy asks in disbelief.

“Hey! Don’t bite my head off. We’ve gotta do something to keep up staff morale,” Ted replies. “Will actually bet that she’d be the one to ask you out, feminism and all that,” He adds.

“She was the one who asked me,” Roy replies.

“Oh, rats!” 

“I don’t know that it’s a date, we’re just…”

“Two people, who are mutually attracted to each other, going to get a late night drink at a second, more private and romantic location even though neither of them are drinking tonight, right, right,” Ted rambles off.

“Ted,” Roy sighs.

“A lady asking you to get a drink is an invitation on a date,” Ted reiterates.

“Ted! Roy and I are about to head out, can you make sure Rebecca and Keely get home alright?”

“Of course! You two lovebirds have fun!” Ted replies before shooting off to find Coach Beard, leaving you and Roy standing there.

“Wow,” You mutter.

“Ted doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Roy grounds out as he turns to look at you.

“He doesn’t?” You ask in surprise. “Are we not… Isn’t getting a drink…?”

“Is it a date?” Roy asks.

“I was hoping it could be,” You admit with a half shrug of your shoulder. “Unless you’re not interested, then it can just be two friends. Or colleagues-”

“It’s a date,” Roy states as he places a hand on your back to lead you toward the door. “It’s definitely a date.”

[allhailthemightyquattro]

Got around to watching The Star Beast, so thoughts:

The good:

Donna Noble is back!

Murray Gold is back!

Love the opening credits. Best they've been since Matt Smith (Capaldi's credits weren't bad, but this sequence is better).

Beep is so cute! The special effects department/props department deserve all the praise.

Beep is so evil! Love to see my little war criminal embrace their megalomania.

Sylvia's reaction to hearing the Doctor's voice was priceless!

I love how they addressed trans issues. It didn't feel like a tv show telling us that they support trans people and that we should too. It felt like a tv show showing us trans issues. They had a trans character and their family facing problems that a trans person and their family could (and do) face in the real world, and they let the audience decide if they are okay with that happening or not. Showing people a particular side of an issue will always be more helpful than simply telling people that their side is wrong. The hardcore transphobes won't be swayed either way (and probably would only be watching to authenticate their hate) so addressing the issue with them in mind would have at best alienated the audience and at worst insulted them (looking at you last few minutes of Orphan 55).

I particularly liked that they included Sylvia's difficulty with knowing what to say to Rose. It's clear she loves her granddaughter exactly how she is (a great contrast between her treatment of Donna in series 4) but she doesn't know if she's doing things right. It's something that I don't often see addressed in internet fandom spaces, where every small slight is condemned as a terrible offense. Changing cultures is a learning curve.

I think they had a shot of Rose at Donna's wedding at the beginning, which helps (but doesn't really solve) the age issue. Donna started dating Shaun in 2009 and is not visibly pregnant at the end of that year, meaning 2010 is the earliest possible year Rose could have been born, making Rose 13 if this episode is set in 2023. Having the wedding scene from the End of Time be set after Rose was born helps with believing Donna could have been pregnant during that story.

The TARDIS looks pretty cool. I love the call back to the classic TARDISes.

The Doctor proudly proclaiming that Beep was defeated by the DoctorDonna as he holds Donna in his arms 🥹

Shirley Anne was awesome.

Donna's little speech about Wilf when convincing Sylvia to let her go, reminding us that Wilf also suffered a loss when Donna lost her memories.

The psychic paper not catching up and listing the Doctor as a "mistress".

Rose inheriting the metacrisis. There is a catch to this that will be explained in the next section, but by and large I loved the idea.

The not-as-good:

I was hoping for a few more non-RTD references considering it's the 60th anniversary. I know we still have two more specials to go, so I should be patient, but it's still a little disappointing.

I'd hoped they would do something a little different than the comic. The comic is great, so this isn't really a bad thing, I'd just hoped for something more.

Having the metacrisis be a reason for Rose's transness (is that a word?) wasn't great. Everything else about the reveal was great - the toys, the shed, her name - but her gender being part of that just cheapened the issue they were doing so well with. Just for the sake of being clever. I suppose you could say they were making a point about time lord gender, but that point has been made. It got made years ago. It wasn't needed.

For most of the episode, Finney being older than her character didn't bother me... except when they showed her friend, who was played by someone much closer her character's supposed age. The age difference was very hard to ignore in those scenes.

Beep mentioning "the boss". Very menacing and very foreboding... but the Most High does not have a boss. The Most High is the most high and death upon whoever says otherwise!

Donna and Rose just letting the metacrisis go kind of ruins her goodbye in Journey's End and is somehow both lazy and overthought. Sharing the metacrisis between two people would have been a convincing enough reason for it to not kill Donna. They had their fix it already. And it was a good one! They didn't need to add another, much worse one.

[saintgoths]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜʀɪᴛʏ-ꜰᴏᴜʀ

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR - VENUS.

WORDS - 3,177.

RATING - 18+. [mentions of murder and child abuse.}

SUMMARY - as Isabella tells Ellie what happened the day they arrived to Jackson, Kaylee finally explains why her and her brother, Adam tried to get her pregnant..

i cross-post on archive of our own and wattpad

previous chapter - chapter thirty-three

Ellie softly played with the string of her guitar while she lightly hummed along a tune she had practiced; Ivy had laid close to her, on her back as she trained her eyes on a novel from a book she had picked up recently, currently, the two had been in Joel’s garage, which had been Ellie’s cabin, in need for privacy, Ivy and Ellie temporarily stayed in the small home while the rest of them had been under Isabella’s roof.

As much as she had wanted to continue, Ellie’s play of tunes which had been ambience for Ivy had come to a halt, the stop of the motion had caused Ivy to look up from her book. Aware that the Williams girl had a troubled look on her face. Engaged, Ivy bookmarked the page she had been on before she slowly sat up. “What’s wrong?”

“Is it true your family is going to leave?” had asked and confused, Ivy had wondered where Ellie must’ve heard it, either from Joel and Isabella but Ivy had doubted that, since they were at Joel’s for some time, though, Ivy had wondered if Ellie had heard Venus and Robin about it to each other.

“No,” Ivy shook her head. “My mother promised us we will stay here forever,” she smiled as she moved closer to her red-haired girlfriend. “I’ll be here forever.”

Relieved, Ellie lightly tapped the wooden material of her instrument. “That’s good,” she said her voice more confident as she set down her guitar. The auburn-haired girl reached for Ivy’s wrist and pulled the Rosalind girl closer to her. “I really love you,” Ellie said and with a stretched smile, Ivy’s eyes narrowed in content.

“I love you too,” Ivy said before she pressed her lips against Ellie’s mouth, her mouth had been a bit rough and sometimes Ivy joked about it.

After she hastily traced Ivy’s jaw with the pad of her thumb, Ellie’s hazel eyes moved to the object Ivy had once held. “What book are you reading?”

“The Haunting of Hill House,” Ivy shrugged fore she picked up her book again, she had thought that the novel had captured the idea of grief perfectly, and Ivy had wondered if the anger, bargaining, denial, depression and acceptance were endless cycles her mother had to continuously go through as she lived. “It was written by Shirley Jackson.”

“I’ve always walked past it whenever I was in the library, never decided to pick it up,” Ellie said. “Is it good?”

It’s amazing,” Ivy smiled as she picked up the book again. “My favourite character is Eleanor Crain.”

As she leaned against her bed post, Ellie briefly raised her eyebrows once more. “Once you’re finished with the book, maybe I’ll start reading it.”

“I’d like that,” Ivy answered just as Ellie reached out for her.

“Now, give me another kiss,” Ellie dared and without second thought, Ivy moved herself to her lover once more.

❊❊❊

THE PAST

Kai had been away when their front door was knocked upon, Isabella had been in their living room, both hands on her belly as she gently caressed the swollen lump, unsure if today would bring her hell or heaven. Yet, with confidence, Isabella walked directly towards the sealed door and gently peeled it open to reveal Hana’s twin, Lana.

Lana who had appeared radiant, though Isabella had known there had been a fakeness to it, with the forced dimpled smile, Lana looked down at her friend before she placed a short kiss against Isabella’s cheek, Isabella who had been surprised by her arrival had taken a step back to allow Lana in. She had looked different, she wore white clothes and had cut her hair just above her shoulders, her appearance drastically different to Hana as they used to be identical.

Lana had appeared as if she had been the Sun itself. Though, if the Isabella had wanted to be truthful, Lana’s essence had been like a light from a flashlight.

“Lana, lovely to see you, what brings you here?” Isabella asked and as Lana closed the door behind her, Lana gently licked her lips as she studied what she was about to say.

She examined their home and took in a deep breath; Isabella had thought that Lana had looked like one of the girls in a perfume ad she’d used to see before the infection took over the world. “What a beautiful home, it always amazes me whenever I walk by,” Lana said, her voice lighter than before, strangely different to her usual tone which had made Isabella feel uncanny. “Kai informed me about the difficult pregnancy you’re having, and I hope you will be better---I know you will be better.”

“Thank you,” Isabella said, aware that Lana had took out something from her pockets. It had appeared like a potion. With its green liqueur, Isabella had speculated if she picked up grass and mixed and mushed it with water.

“Here you go, drink this, it can help the pregnancy,” Lana said and unsure, Isabella took the potion from Lana and quickly examined it before she set it away.

She thanked Lana as they made way to the living room, and while Isabella directed Lana to the living room she had felt like a prey, Lana the tigress and Isabella the lamb. “The Ophanim had told me how much our commune is going to prosper, he is a great man, I have my trust in him, how he’s going to rebuild America, and then rebuild the world.”

If Isabella hadn’t had her back faced towards Lana, she would’ve seen the way her had face twisted, but when Isabella turned around, she had looked up at Lana, Lana whose eyes were filled with hope and faith, it creeped out Isabella. “And what about the missing people? What is the Ophanim going to do about them?”

“Be aware,” Lana began, her face had then fell into a serious position, eyebrows dropped and furrowed, eyes still as she pointed her finger upwards. “Be aware that their disappearances were great sacr---deeds to the community,” Lana corrected with a sigh. “And a great deed for you to have a safe pregnancy,” Lana smiled as she returned both of her palms to pile on top of each other.

Confused, Isabella gently puckered her lip in thought but before she could speak again, her front door was pushed open and there walked in the Ophanim, surprised, Isabella’s eyes widened, he wore a red cloak to symbolise his cardinal superiority, and wore a golden necklace that was a symbol of an Oraphim Angel and its wings. The Ophanim had stood tall, intimidatingly tall and he had a cloak that shaded his face, but when he pulled it down Isabella took in his striking features, he was handsome, but there had been an essence of coldness and dominance that shone bright as stars in his eyes.

He had looked charismatic, so Isabella had comprehended a bit why people were easily taken by him. “Be not afraid of him,” Lana kindly reassured. “He is here to help, to pray,” and without allowing the pregnant woman to say another word, the man had placed his hand against her shoulder and closed his eyes.

“’O Oraphim, give thy power my lord, to heal this sacred woman and the baby she carries in her belly, ‘O Oraphim, come guide and protect this woman and her foetus,” he prayed and joined by Lana who had placed her palm against Isabella’s back, Isabella stood there awkward and disturbed by their words. “’O Oraphim, our greatest Lord our Guide, our Christ, our God, come down and heal the woman and the foetus that’s growing in her belly, Omen.”

Relieved that they had let go of her, the Ophanim had not said another word before he spun on the balls of his feet and directed himself out of the Rosalind home, though excited, Lana stood next to Isabella with a content expression.

“He’s such a man of words,” Lana sighed in approval before she walked towards the exit. Though, with her hand on the door frame, Lana twisted her figure to look back at Isabella who had protectively held her swollen stomach. “See you again, Isabella,” she bid and with a dramatic bow, Lana pounced off her feet fore she left the woman alone.

❊❊❊

THE PRESENT

It had been a couple of days after her interaction with Ivy, and Ellie found herself back under the Rosalind roof, there had been many things that had made Ellie continuously find herself there, and one of them had been Isabella’s cooking, Ivy had not lied when she said her mother was the greatest chef, and it made her envy Ivy on how she was able to grow up with such a mother.

Currently, she had been sprawled against the sofa, had turned one of her shows on while Isabella had been in her open kitchen. She could feel the way Isabella glanced at her every now and then, but she had hoped it would be Isabella to be the one to make conversation, Ivy had been at the Green House, Robin had joined Joel for patrol and Kaylee had been teaching Venus piano in another room on the first floor.

“Food smells nice,” Ellie then said and as Isabella thanked Ellie, she threw more food into the pot.

“I’ve been craving this,” Isabella muttered and as a joke, Ellie turned to look at her, had watched how Isabella easily moved around.

She had been so quick on her feet, had almost moved around the place as if she were ghost. “Time of the month?”

With a smile Isabella nodded in approval. “Venus has been better, more relaxed compared to how she was when she first came here,” and she had been correct, compared to all the Rosalinds, specifically the Rosalind siblings, Venus had found it hard to find proper place here, or to fit in, specifically due to her bite.

With an estranged look, Ellie stared at the woman, if she hadn’t been so beautiful, she would’ve been intimidating, though her striking but kind appearance had sometimes made the Williams girl anxious. “I heard that you were asking Venus what happened before we came to Jackson.”

Caught red-handed, Ellie sat up straight before she quickly atoned for how she snooped into their lives. “Venus told you?”

Isabella shook her head. “I heard when I was behind the door, good hearing,” Isabella answered and as she placed a cooking tool down, Ellie muttered another apology, afraid of how keen their mother had been. “It’s okay,” Isabella sighed. “Everyone is curious about what had happened the night we came to Jackson, but I advise you to not pester Venus about it all the time. It was traumatic for us all, but Venus was traumatised the most. It is what commenced her sleep-walking.”

“When Venus didn’t get infected, the people of the commune we used to belong in believed that Venus was a deity,” Isabella began and intrigued, Ellie set her entire attention towards the woman. “Thought she was a deity brought to Earth, so they worshipped her…exploited her.”

Before the woman continued, she hesitated at the memory that flashed in her mind, all the words she remembered the people they knew before uttered to her, but what she had remembered the most was her anger. “They believed that if Venus laid with them, she’d be able to produce immune children, and there was going to be a special night for it to happen.”

Shocked, Ellie’s eyes widened as the words hit her ears, she could see the way Isabella heavily breathed in, as if she finished climbing a hill. “So, I decided that it would be the day I was going to burn every man who wanted to take part in abusing Venus, and kill the women who enabled it.”

“So, I made them a feast,” Isabella said as she crossed her hands. “And they ate, and unfortunately, so did Robin and Ivy. The food was drugged, and it was hard for them to wake up and escape, so when the commune was burning and I was killing everyone, my other children were asleep, but when Venus and I were able to wake them up, all they saw was disaster, I feel remorse with what I put them through, but the lengths I’ll go to when it comes to protecting my children is unlimited.”

With a sour feeling, Isabella gripped the edge of the island behind her, she had understood why she always lashed out whenever she heard someone attempted to hurt her children or did so, it was younger Rosa feeling and younger Lilith grieving, for the child she once was, for the child that wanted protection, for the child that precisely needed it.

Before any tear could slip out, Isabella scrunched her nose with a sniff ere she turned her back to the Williams girl who couldn’t help but stare at the woman with admiration. “So…you’re like a moralistic slasher?” Ellie inquired, her adolescence in her question had brought a smile to Isabella’s face who couldn’t help but turn to look back at her.

“Exactly like that,” Isabella responded.

❊❊❊

Weeks have gone by and Isabella had invited Kaylee to her home, it had been moments since Kaylee said she’d explain herself to the Rosalind woman, to why her and her brother Adam had attempted to impregnate her, and as much as Isabella had thought of their idea to be not only exploitive, but foolish, though Isabella had time to be annoyed with what they had done, and had no energy to be angry, thus she passed a cup of coffee towards the other woman who had felt like she had slowly shrunk under Isabella’s watchful gaze.

Awkward, Kaylee took a sip of her drink while Isabella impatiently tapped her fingers against her thumb, she then spoke. “Hurry up before Joel comes back and overhears what you tried to do, and he would give the reaction I should’ve when I realised it.”

“It’s not like we randomly tried to get you pregnant the second we saw you,” Kaylee blurted out, her eyes wide with embarrassment, she had been grateful Isabella caught her at a time where no one else would’ve been home, she didn’t want to suffer the judgemental trait Venus had, the little girl was patronising enough. “It’s just that, when I heard you had sex with him, I was happy.”

Confused, Isabella gracelessly laughed. “That’s weird,” Isabella muttered and as Kaylee opened her mouth to speak, Isabella captured the sad glint that faintly sparkled in her eyes.

“I’m infertile,” Kaylee said.

“What does that got to do with me?” Isabella asked.

“Adam isn’t,” Kaylee continued, and with a brief shake, Kaylee put down her drink. “And you’re just so good with kids, and we want to have more family, Adam wants kids the most. I gave up on the idea.”

“I wouldn’t want Adam’s kid,” Isabella stated and with an embarrassed fluster Kaylee played with her fingers as she took a quick examination over Isabella.

As she took in the brief information with the quick scan, Kaylee hastily clenched her jaw. “’I understand,” she breathed, eyes low as she saw the way Isabella stopped tapping her fingers but moved to gently swing her left foot. “I just got excited and wanted to have my own niece and nephew, but I’m glad Toomy and Maria would be having one.”

Confused, Isabella pulled herself forward. “What do you mean?”

Just as perplexed, Kaylee leaned back on the single sofa Isabella had provided to her. “Glowing skin, slightly bigger nose, still beautiful---nothing wrong with having a big nose,” she said as a save, “But how did you not know?” Considering Isabella had more than two kids, Kaylee thought Isabella would be able to catch on when she was showing the symptoms.

With a dark look, Isabella’s eyes slowly fell down to the table. “I cannot be pregnant,” she anxiously laughed as she placed her left hand against her chest, it must’ve been the stress and what had been happening previously which had made Isabella not realise that a new human being was forming inside of her.

“Why not?” Kaylee asked as she moved forward. “You’re an amazing mother, you’ll do well with this one, like you’ve done the others.”

“I wish for you to not tell anyone,” Isabella requested, her wish almost a plead, a beg---and understanding, Kaylee sat up.

“I won’t,” she promised.

 ❊❊❊

“Feel better?” Joel questioned as he dug his fingers into Isabella’s back, carefully massaged the knots in Isabella’s body as she gently sighed in relief to his touch. Presently they had been in her room, everyone else had been asleep but the Miller man had noticed that there had been a stiffness to Isabella’s movements, hence the woman usually moved like a flow of spring water, it wasn’t hard to miss when she acted different.

He had asked her if anything had been wrong before they had begun the session, and Isabella had spent two minutes in attempt to make him understand that everything was alright. “It feels good,” Isabella sighed, she had wanted to lean on him, excessively but she had reminded herself to be patient.

As he softly pressed a kiss against her shoulder, Joel had then spoken. “You look beautiful today.”

With a smile, Isabella hastily bit her lip. “You always say that.”

“Gotta tell my woman it every day,” Joel sated and with a scrunch of her nose, Isabella rolled her eyes, amused.

“Your woman?” She repeated with a giggle, she had liked the sound of that, and had felt more satisfied when she had felt Joel massage the rest of her body. With a moan, Isabella tilted her head backwards, “I do like the sound of that,” she said, as she felt the texture of his fingers move against her skin, she had only worn her bra and panties, her bump hadn’t showed and Isabella had speculated how long she had been pregnant, Joel as keen as he was didn’t see the difference on her body, and if he did, he probably did not want to insult her by bringing up the shape of her figure.

As he had stroked her hair, he couldn’t help but move his hands to her breast. “They’re so full.”

“I’ve always had big boobs,” Isabella clarified and she turned to look at him the moment she felt him playing with them, she couldn’t help but laugh before she moved her mouth on top of his.

With his eyebrows furrowed, Joel pulled away. “Is there anything wrong?”

“Am I suddenly bad at kissing?” Isabella responded and with a short-humoured scoff, Joel helped Isabella put on her top, she had known that wasn’t what he had meant, whenever there had been something wrong with Isabella, Joel’s senses always seemed to activate. “You’re thinking too much,” she reassured. “Now let us go to sleep.”

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