#gangster x lawyer husband | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

borathae · 2 years ago

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↳ Index [Day 14 - Kniveplay]

Pairing: gangster!Yoongi x f.Reader

Kinks: dom!Yoongi, sub!Reader, knives, rope bondage, blindfold, tears, choking & breathplay, praise, good girl kink, dirty talk, slight possessiveness but in a sexy way, body worship, strength kink, oral (f.&m.receiving), edging, vaginal penetrative sex, squirting, face fucking, cumming on face, sweet aftercare

Wordcount: 7.4k

a/n: i am 👁👄👁💧 i’m not saying that this is the hottest fucking shit ever but i am exactly saying that *yells*

Jungkook texted you. Told you that the boss refuses to talk to anyone and that you should come home. You arrive twenty minutes later.

The air is tense the moment you step into the mansion. Jungkook, right hand man and skilled with his fists, is sitting with the others. Taehyung, driver and skilled with the machete, is sitting next to him. Jimin, your best dealer and skilled with the gun, is currently being taken care of by Seokjin. He was your lawyer on most days, but serves as a doctor tonight. Hoseok, bodyguard of Jimin during the deals, is bleeding from his eyebrow, right eye bruised to the point of no recognition.

“Well fuck. You guys look fucked”, you say, calling their attention, “how are you?”

“Could be better”, Jimin says and hisses in discomfort as Seokjin once again drills the needle through his skin to close up the deep cut on his back.

“Sorry man, we’re almost done”, Seokjin mumbles, brows furrowed in concentration.

“What happened?” you ask.

“There was an ambush. The whole deal was a fucking trap. We lost five men, the twins barely escaped and the rest of us is fucked up”, Hoseok answer you, pointing at his bruised eye.

“Fuck. Where is he?” you ask them.

“Your bedroom. I wouldn’t go in there, he’s murderous”, Namjoon, financier and consultant, answers you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine”, you assure him, abandoning them in the sitting room to hurry upstairs.

They exchange a look of worry with each other.

“Think she’ll be fine?” Taehyung asks.

“I hope so”, Jungkook says, rocking back and forth nervously. He’ll never forgive himself if you get hurt just because he texted you.

“Boss. You’re back. Welcome home, boss”, the guards outside your bedroom doors greet you, bowing their heads at you.

"Is my husband in there?"

"Yes, boss."

“Good. Leave”, you order them, flicking your wrist dismissively.

“Boss”, they say, nodding their heads in understanding. They leave you afterwards, finding their new post downstairs.

You knock on his door three times, waiting for an answer. It doesn’t come, obviously.

“Honey, it’s me”, you try, knocking twice.

“Come in”, his voice sounds poisonous even from behind closed doors.

You turn the doorknob and push, slipping inside your bedroom. The door closes quietly. The lock falls into place.

The lights safe for your bedside lamp are turned off, the curtains are drawn closed. The room smells like a mixture of blood, disinfectant and whiskey. The blood-soaked pieces of cotton wool scattered all over your leather couch give you an idea of what causes the stench. The open bottles of whiskey and disinfectant on the floor answer the rest.

Your eyes flit to your husband. He is sitting on the bed with a glass of whiskey tangling between his fingers and his hair a dishevelled mess.

Shadows surround him, claiming his black hair as theirs and dragging their spindly fingers over his face as well. He is still in his suit. Jacket discarded on the couch and tie thrown on the floor. His shirt is open, soaked in blood at some parts and revealing the huge cut on his left pec now hidden behind bandages.

“Holy shit, honey. What happened? Who did this to you?” you gasp.

Yoongi clenches his jaw, guiding the glass of whiskey to his lips. He drinks it without any kind of reaction, setting it down on the floor afterwards.

“What do you want?” he hisses.

“They told me what happened. Who the fuck dared to ambush you?”

“Tzt”, Yoongi looks to the side, “who the fuck you think? The fucking Dragons.”

“Fucking bastards, fuck”, you say, hurrying to your husband’s side. You cup his face and turn his head so he was looking up at you, “I’m happy you’re still here though”, you say, smoothing over his tightened brows, “does the cut hurt a lot? Should I look at it?”

“No”, he answers you dryly, trying to turn his head away but you force it to fall against your stomach. He is tense and silent, face contorted in anger you know not to be afraid of. Not you, because you know how to handle him when he wants to kill the entire world.

“It’s gonna be alright, love”, you whisper, running your fingers through his dishevelled hair, “you’re gonna kill those fucking bastards, I’m sure of it. It’s what you do best.”

Yoongi exhales loudly and closes his arms around your waist, turning his head so his nose was buried in the softness of your tummy and he was drowning in your scent.

If any other person in this fucking organisation tried to force him into this kind of hug, they’d have already lost their arms. But not you. You’re his fucking treasure, his light, his better half and you can break every single brick of those walls around his heart with just one touch.

He inhales deeply, twisting the fabric of your shirt desperately.

“It’s alright, love. I’m here now”, you assure him, kissing the crown of his head.

Yoongi lifts his head because of that, nose brushing against yours and half-lidded eyes glued to your lips. He even flutters his lashes, parting his lips slowly. You feel the tension instantly. This addicting kind of tension which, years ago, made you fall so goddamn deep for him. Tension filled with dangerous attraction, leaving you craving more and more with each passing second.

Yoongi reaches up and takes your chin between two of his fingers. His eyes lower even more, his head tilts back further. With a gentle tug, he makes you move, claiming your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. He tastes like whiskey and anger, feeding it to you with hungry lips and an eager tongue. You squeeze his cheeks softly, kissing him back happily.

You know that your husband is the best in the business. He isn’t the boss for no reason. But still, you can’t help but be worried for him each time he leaves for a mission. And now that he is back, almost unharmed, you want to never ever let him go again.

He breaks the kiss a second later, gazing at your lips as he squeezes your chin gently.

“I need you”, he rasps.

“I’m here now. Just tell me what you need”, you whisper.

“Wanna fuck you.”

“Okay”, you rasp, feeling heat tingle in your stomach. You were hoping for that.

“Wanna tie you up for it”, he whispers, pulling you down until your lips are brushing against his.

“I’m okay with that.”

“Wanna blindfold you.”

“Yeah?” you press your legs together, “with your tie?”

“No. The real shit. Need you unable to peek.”

“I’m fine with that.”

“Fuck. Baby”, Yoongi gets out breathily and pulls you back into a kiss.

You moan desperately, feeling dizzy from just how hungrily he kisses you. Held willing hostage with your chin between his fingers and your head dizzy from anticipation.

Yoongi breaks the kiss with a throaty growl, letting the strings of saliva break between your lips before he tilts his head back, dragging his lips up your nose in the process. His eyes are closed, his brows are relaxed, letting you know that your presence is already helping with relaxing him.

“You’re the living fucking proof that god is a woman, baby”, he rasps, turning your limbs into complete mush.

“Yoongi”, you moan, letting yourself fall on top of his lap, “I need you so bad.”

“Same”, he says and then picks you up just to lie you down on the bed, “you know what to do”, he adds and turns his back to you. He slips his shirt off as he does, dropping it on the floor. Like this his sculpted back is exposed to you. It is covered in a few new scratches but looks healthy otherwise. The faint shine of the bedside lamp is casting big shadows on it, making his muscles look even bigger.

You watch him strut to your dresser where your toys are stored. You take on your favourite position in the meantime, taking off your clothes until nothing but your lingerie is keeping you humble. Then you rest back, head sinking into the soft pillows and skin getting caressed by your silken sheets.

Yoongi turns, black bondage ropes in one hand and a silk blindfold in the other. He studies you from head to toe, rolling his shoulders as a sign that the view is affecting him. Good. You’re wearing one of the sets he bought for you. Black lace from the highest quality and fitted right to your body. You know for a fact that the way the lamp is shining on your body and hiding parts of it in shadows is affecting him deeply.

“You look so fucking sexy”, he says, strutting to the bed in heavy steps and his head tilted to the side just slightly.

“It’s the set you got me for Christmas”, you say, writhing on the sheets just for his viewing pleasure.

“I know. I never forget a set”, he answers you, dropping the ropes on the bed to open them, “especially not one like that. You wore it on Bali.”

“Yes and in Osaka.”

The right corner of his lips curl into a small smirk. He hums and nods his head, opening his hand for you, “hand”, he orders.

You place your hand in his palm, tingling when he closes his fingers around it and caresses your skin gently. You watch with sparkly eyes as Yoongi tightens the rope around you in a beautiful braided cuff tie. He finishes the tie by tugging on the rope and forcing your arm into its supposed position.

“Good?” he asks.

“Yeah, good”, you whisper, feeling hot all over.

He nods his head, tightening the rope on the sturdy ring on your bed’s headboard. Afterwards he rounds the bed, repeating what he did on your other hand. He didn’t even have to ask for your hand and you were already presenting it to him, oh so eager to get tied up by him. He asks you for your comfort to which you say that it felt so nice and then he tightened the rope on the ring. He rounds the bed again afterwards, stopping by the foot end. You wait with bated breath for what he will do. His fingers close around your ankles and then he tugs, making you squeak in surprise. Strong and aggressive until your arms are stretched widely and the rope is taut. Like this your head is resting on the mattress.

"That was fun", you giggle, making Yoongi show a small toothless smile.

"Mhm."

Yoongi wraps the rope around your leg right above your ankle, tightening it after making sure two of his fingers are fitting in between the rope and your body. With one tug to the side and your left leg opens widely, now getting tied into the position on the bondage ring.

You feel so out of breath because of it, trying your hardest not to squirm.

Yoongi repeats the tie on your other leg, fixating it into position with expert knots. Like this your legs are opened far, unable to close on him.

“Done. Are you comfortable?” he says, running his hands up and down your legs.

“Yeah, so comfortable”, you answer him, sounding just slightly out of breath.

“Good. Say the words when it starts to hurt.”

“I will”, you promise him, not getting any answer from him. You wanted to lift your head to check on him, but decide against it when you feel his lips on your body, kissing their way up your inner thigh and stealing your breath in the process.

You moan, enjoying the sensation with closed eyes. His lips are so soft and warm, worshipping your skin with so much tenderness. Truly, Yoongi can be the cruelest man on the job, but not once did he bring any of it into your bedroom. You feel like a queen when he is with you.

He leaves out your pussy purposefully, kissing your lower tummy right along the hem of your panties. Maybe he is still a little torturous but you love that kind of torture. His hands run up and down your sides in the process, sending electric tingles over your skin. He is still not fully on the bed, one knee between your legs and slacks stretching around his thighs. For just one more second because then he kisses too far up your body, forcing his other leg to lift from the floor to instead rest on the mattress as well, knee digging into the sheets right next to your leg.

Yoongi hums in approval as he dances his lips over your clothed breasts, cupping them with his big hands as he does. His warmth seeps right through the material, making you ache for the unfaltered sensation.

One flick of his fingers and he manages to tug the material down far enough to expose your nipples to him. He grunts in approval, lowering his lips to them to suck them until they are swollen.

"Oh god so good", you moan, feeling short of breath. Yoongi just knows how to really get you going, giving you the sensation long enough to rile you up but not long enough to fully satisfy. He's an expert in that kind of torture. Damn.

“So fucking sexy”, he murmurs raspily, abandoning your tits in sake of marking your collarbones with hungry hickeys. He sucks on your skin until it stings and you arch your back for him, moving on to the next spot to repeat the sweet torture. When Yoongi is finally happy with the results, he managed to reduce you to the point where just his breath against your neck makes you want to pray to his name. Luckily for you or perhaps sadly for you, Yoongi never lowers his lips, lifting his head before he does to instead look down at you with half-lidded eyes. His knees are on each side of your armpits, his clothed bulge looks so huge from your point of view. Yoongi grips your cheeks with soft fingers and squishes your face to the point where your lips pout involuntarily. He turns your head from left to right, letting his eyes race over your features obsessively.

“You’ve got the prettiest fucking face”, he says, loosening his tight grip to instead run the back of his hand down your face. He places his pointer finger under your chin, caressing your skin with his thumb, “gonna fuck it later.”

You gulp, ogling his cock.

"Want that, baby?" he asks

You nod your head, painting a proud smirk on his face.

"That's my girl", he rasps.

You feel your cheeks heat up under his praise, eyes lighting up in happiness.

“Close your eyes for me”, he orders.

You follow happily.

“Keep them closed”, he orders next and then you feel the softness of the blindfold on your eyes. He lifts your head for you, tightening the blindfold with a comfortable knot, “is it tight?”

“No, it’s good”, you sigh, sighing again when he places your head back down. Darkness surrounds you. Darkness and the uncertainty of what happens next. Your skin is prickling because of it, becoming so sensitive that even the air in the room feels like too much.

His fingers walking down the sides of your neck remind you that there is something even more unbearable than mere air. His touch. Oh it is so unbearably good when you don’t know where he will place it next.

His touch leaves you again, the bed dents as if he was climbing off of it. His steps on the wooden floor let you know that you were right.

“Honey? Where are you going?” you ask panickedly.

“Relax. I’m not leaving”, he assures you, steps very clearly moving away from you.

Silence. The sound of a drawer opening. Fumbling with something. The drawer closes again. Steps. They come closer and closer again. The sheets ruffle, the mattress shakes. Your breathing speeds up.

You turn your head to where you think your husband is sitting, waiting with a racing heart for the moment he touches you again.

The silence is unbearable. There is this rhythmic clicking sound of something opening and closing and you can’t for the world of you figure out what it was. It continues. Yoongi’s presence is unbearable when he doesn’t act.

“Yoongi?” you ask quietly.

“Yes, love?” he answers you.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking at you.”

“What are you holding?”

“My knife”, he answers you, sending bolts of pleasure through your body without even touching you. He watches in delight as you squirm and tug on the ropes just slightly. He knew that this would affect you.

“W-what knife?” you stutter.

Click. Yoongi most definitely opened it.

Cold metal touches your stomach. The area of touch is small, letting you know that he is pressing the tip of it into your skin. You feel dizzy in an instant.

“Guess”, he says, voice heavy in arousal. He dances the knife up and down your tummy, making sure to never cut but to still apply enough pressure to leave goosebumps behind.

Your husband owns many knives. Next to buying you the finest clothes, collecting knives is his favourite hobby. Trying to guess which one of his huge collection he decided to use on you tonight is almost impossible. Especially when he traces your torso so incredibly good.

“I, I don’t know”, you stutter breathlessly.

“Try harder”, Yoongi orders, flipping the knife so the flat of the blade was between your tits. He makes sure to press the dull site into your flesh while letting the sharp side barely miss your soft skin. The shaky breath you take, makes his stomach twist in arousal.

He knows that you won’t be able to guess. He only used that knife on you once, it would be a surprise if you guessed right. He still loves the game, playing it like an addict.

“T-the silver one?”

“Silver one? Which one? Be more specific”, he says, slipping the knife from your sternum to instead dance the tip over your left breast. He holds it in place for it, making sure the flesh was gathered enough that he can trace every inch of it.

“The, the one with the red handle?” you try, feeling shivers run down your spine constantly. The skin on your tits is so sensitive and now Yoongi is using the knife on it. You want to twist the sheets because of it, but have to twist the ropes instead.

“Wrong”, he says and with just enough pressure makes sure to leave a tiny mark. It doesn’t bleed, stinging for just a second before a deep burn digs into your fibres.

You whimper for him, chasing it with a soft arch of your back

“Two more guesses", he says, soothing the spot with his thumb.

“Two, two more?” you stutter, panting heavily.

“Mhm.”

“What happens then?”

He moves closer, making the mattress creak.

“I’ll cut you”, he rasps, breath swirling against your lips and fingers closing around your throat softly.

“Yoongi”, you mewl, chasing him and gulping under his fingers. Oh how you wish for him to press down on your veins and steal just a little bit more of your sanity.

“Continue, baby. Keep guessing”, he says, keeping his hand around your throat as he swirls the tip of the knife over your face.

Your entire body feels charged. You aren’t scared. Not even a little bit. You know that Yoongi would rather ram that knife into his own thigh before accidentally hurting you. You know that he would never cut you, not unless you beg for it. So you trust him with the sharp blade on your face, but you still can’t help but feel charged to the point where you are shaking. To have his big hand wrapped around your throat as the knife is against your skin as you have no way to escape, fills you with aching pleasure.

You try to concentrate. He took that knife from a drawer, which means it must be one of the knives he keeps in his nightstand. You have one in yours as well, but that doesn’t open and close.

Yoongi slides his hand from your throat to the back of your neck, lifting your head like this. It tilts back, revealing your vulnerable throat to the blade. Yoongi flips it and presses the sharp side of it against your skin, making you gasp in surprise.

“Guess. Now”, he orders, voice dark and dangerous. You feel your pussy throb because of it.

“I, I don’t know. The silver one from the nightstand?” you stutter.

“No. Wrong again”, he says and punishes you by dropping your head and replacing the blade with his hand, cutting off just enough of your airflow to turn your body limp in surprised bliss. Your head starts pounding, you feel like moaning out a gag. The knife rests on your tummy as he caresses your skin and basks in the quick movements you do from all the gasping he forces you to do.

“I’m gonna count to five and then let go of your throat and I want your answer by then”, he rasps, lips ghosting over your cheek, “can you do that for me, baby?”

“Yeah”, you croak, brain working overtime to guess right.

“Trust me, it’s gonna be worth it to get it right, so think hard. One….two…” he starts counting, making you tremble in charged desperation.

Yoongi has four knives in his nightstand. One kukri knife with a brown handle, which doesn’t open and close. His cousin gave it to him during one of their missions as teens. A small bowie knife you gave him for his birthday, it opens but was your second guess so you know it to be wrong. One of his customised daggers which opens with a press of a button and doesn’t sound that sharp. That leaves…

“…four and…five”, Yoongi finishes counting and releases your throat.

You gasp for air, arching your back from the rush of blood going back to your head. Yoongi caresses your sides until you calm down enough to talk.

“The black steel one. The s-spanto blade”, you croak.

“Good job, you guessed right”, he says, carrying a smile in his voice.

You bask in the praise with a fluttering heart, grinning proudly.

“It wasn’t even that hard”, you say, making him chuckle.

“Of course not”, he says, caressing your tummy. He moves down your body, dancing his hands down as well until he has your soft thighs under his fingertips. He kneads them, sitting right between your open legs.

You have already figured out by now what reward he was talking about, barely handling the anticipation.

“Fuck baby”, just the tone of his voice makes your pussy throb in desperation, “you’re fucking soaked”, he says and laughs lazily, eyes glued to your wet panties.

“What are you gonna do with me?” you ask him.

“Whatever the fuck I wanna do”, he answers you, hooking his fingers in the fabric just to tug it away from your body and use the blade to cut through it. He rips it off your other leg, throwing it behind himself without looking.

“Yoongi, I loved those panties”, you whine and whimper, chasing something. You have no idea what you were chasing. Maybe his hand, maybe the cold air on your pussy, maybe your lost panties. You just know that all you want to be is to be touched.

“I’ll buy you new ones, just want that pussy”, he dismisses you, lowering himself to you without warning.

You yelp up, almost smothering him if he wasn’t pinning down your hips, growling against your pussy as his lips are wrapped around your clit.

You hadn’t expected that. You expected him to play with you with his fingers, but not for him to bury his tongue between your folds.

“Holy fuck”, you croak out, tugging at the ropes with all you got, “fuck, holy fuck.”

Yoongi growls deeply, looking up at you with furrowed brows and his arms tensed from pinning you down. The rings are making such nice noises as you fight against them, your tits looks so pretty now that you are gasping for air. He knows that your eyes are squeezed shut behind that pretty blindfold, you always do that when he eats you out.

Yoongi is right. All you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and gasp for air. Having him worship your body with his blade left you so riled up. You didn’t even realise just how turned on he got you until he wrapped his lips around your clit. Hot and wet he sucks on the sensitive bundle of nerves until it is throbbing for a break. Yoongi gives it to you in the form of fast licks, the kind which shoots involuntary shakes through your thighs and which make those ropes around your ankles feel like torture. You want to close your legs, throw them over his shoulders, bend them by their knees. Anything other than forcing them to lie and shake without having any kind of control over them.

Yoongi tries to soothe some of that shaking with his hands running down your thighs, using his nails when he dances them back up again. It doesn’t help. It just makes it worse.

“Fuck, you’re so sensitive”, he growls, breaking away from your pussy. He lets the drool drop from his lips, covering your dripping pussy with it, “you’re shaking like crazy.”

You make an embarrassed sound, tugging at the ropes around your legs and failing to move. Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief.

“That was adorable”, he taunts, sticking out his tongue to drag the flat of it through your folds. He starts at your soaked entrance and ends it at your swollen clit. He uses his entire head for it, repeating the movements while his hands pin down your hips again.

“Yoongi please”, you cry out, feeling chills all over your body. You arch your back as best as the ropes allow you to, soaking the blindfold with pearls of your tears.

“Cute” he moans, basking in the aggressive clench your pussy does. He knows that he’s got you close. He knows you. Knows every change your body does when he’s got his hands on it. He knows that a blade against your skin turns you on like nothing else and that he can get you there instantly when he decides to use his tongue on you. He’s a little disappointed that he already has to stop, lifting his head despite his tongue begging for another taste.

You writhe, fighting the ropes. Only now he sees the tears seeping through the blindfold, smiling darkly because of it.

“Please”, you beg, fighting the strong hold he has on your hips.

“What’s wrong?” he asks nonchalantly despite his own shaky breathing. He feels so fucking good when he gets you so riled up. It’s the only rush of power he truly needs.

“Something, g-give me something please.”

“Hm”, he hums and then his hands leave your body.

You listen with a dizzy head. He climbs down from the bed. What you hadn’t expected however, was Yoongi untying the knots on the leg hooks. You wiggle in the newfound freedom, gasping when this earns you his strong grip around your thighs.

“Stay still”, he hisses.

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure you don’t close your legs”, he says and forces your left leg to bend. He holds it into position by your shin, wrapping the rope around it and therefore securing the position.

You moan in excitement, bending your other leg already for him. You love this position so much.

“Good girl”, Yoongi praises, working diligently to make sure you are comfortable but also tied up right. He rounds the bed afterwards, loosening the tautness of your arm ties and grabbing a pillow. He returns to the foot end of the bed, pulling your body right to the end of it until the arm rings hook back into place.

You laugh out a moan, enjoying the manhandling with all your being.

“Hm”, Yoongi chuckles softly, lifting your butt just to place the pillow underneath it. Like this your hips are tilted just right to give him the best view of your pussy.

He drags his palm down your inner thigh, resting it over your pussy. His pointer finger he flicks over your entrance, playing with your juices mindlessly. The desperation in your moans seem to leave him cold.

"You've got the prettiest pussy, baby", he rasps, dancing his finger to your clit to trace her slowly, "I thought of you today. You and your pretty pussy got me faded, baby."

"Yoongi please fuck me", you beg, feeling close to crying in desperation.

"I will", he says and pulls his hand away.

You are back to listening again.

His belt opens. His zipper gets pulled down. Then the distinct sound of slacks being pulled down and hitting the floor. You can barely breathe in excitement. Finally. Fucking finally you’ll get his cock. It’s all you want. Nobody fucks like Yoongi does. You need it so bad.

He steps closer, lying his cock down over your pussy. He slaps it against your clit a few times, making you keen and writhe.

"I can't wait to fill you up", he speaks slowly, letting you know with it that he is suffering from just as much desperation as you do.

He spanks your clit one last time, dragging his cock down your pussy afterwards. One circle over your weeping entrance then he finally pushes inside, letting out a desperate grunt as he does.

You whimper loudly, feeling your toes curl in pleasure. Yoongi fits like no other. The stretch is hot as fire, leaving you lightheaded and addicted to it.

"Almost there baby, your pussy's taking me so well", he lulls, watching with blown-out pupils as his swollen cock sinks into you. You fit so perfectly around him, as if you were made for him. Just for him.

He bottoms out, furrowing his brows as he does. Wet, hot, tight.

"Fuck I'm in", he presses out, "are you-'

"Good", you interrupt him, "Yoongi", you moan your best moan, tugging at the ropes.

"Shit you’re so fucking sexy", he presses out and grips your hips to finally begin moving. He goes slow and makes sure to really draw out the movements, slipping out of you to the very tip of his cock until slipping back inside to the very base. He needs to make sure your pussy remembers the shape of him, while remembering the sensation of your wet walls himself.

Your moans are like music to his ears. He answers them with whispered curses and throaty grunts, staying quieter for the sake of hearing you. Your sounds seriously get him off so good.

He looks at his cock. It glistens in your pussy juices, veins swollen and skin dark from all the blood rushing through him. You are so fucking wet that you managed to dirty his pubes by now too. Good. He wants to be marked by you just as much as he wants to mark you.

Yoongi spits on your clit, eliciting a gasp from you. You giggle his name, making him smile his distinct lazy smirk.

"Keep moaning for me, baby. Wanna hear how good I fuck you", he orders, picking up his spit with his thumb to use it on you. He rubs your clit slowly, timing the movements with his deep thrusts.

"Fuck! Ah, Yoongi!" you moan loudly, arching your back as best as possible. It is a little difficult when your legs are tied and your arms are unable to move. But you still try because all you want to do is writhe.

"Keep going baby. Moan my fucking name", he rasps, speeding up his hips in desperation.

"Yoongi", you moan, "Yoongi, ah Yoongi!"

He's got you trembling and clenching. Your pussy's so sensitive, his cock feels so huge because of it. His thumb is callused and the roughness of it almost feels too much. In the best way possible. His movements remind you just who gets you into such a state. He does. Only he can. Only Yoongi.

"So pretty. You sound so fucking pretty", he growls, "louder baby, louder. Let those bastards downstairs know who fucks you that well."

You totally forgot about everyone else. The moment you set foot in the bedroom, the rest of the organisation was gone from your mind. And now that he reminded you, all you want to do is tell the whole world who owes you to the core.

"Yoongi", you wail, "Yoongi! You fuck me so well. Yoongi!"

"Fuck", he growls and grunts, fighting the urge to close his eyes, "good girl. Such a good fucking girl. You’re my best girl with the best fucking pussy."

He drills his cock into you, keeping you from slipping back with his strong hand twisted in your leg tie. You need the support, he makes sure of that by keeping up the rough rhythm. Like this his balls slap against your ass each time he is deep inside you. Like this you squeak like the prettiest little toy and your pussy sounds so goddamn wet that Yoongi has to look down at her again.

It runs out of you and soaks the pillow, droplets of it are sticking to his dark pubes, his cock's tripping each time he pulls out. He can also feel it cover his balls, chasing the sensation with a circle of his hips each time he is buried to the base inside your wet, tight cunt.

"Take me, fucking take me", Yoongi growls angrily, slamming into you with madness in his movements.

"Yoongi please don’t stop" you beg him, voice contorted in pleasure. The blindfold is so soaked from your tears, your head is pounding unbearably.

"No. I won’t. You belong to me. You should remember that", he spits, writing his name right against your g spot. He pulls out afterwards just to slam into you roughly, pulling you on his cock at the same time and making it feel twice as deep, "you're my pretty girl. Mine", he rasps, "wanna keep fucking your pretty, little pussy."

You are barely human at this point, praying for any kind of strength to keep you alive. Yoongi fucks like a madman tonight. Normally the job drains him way too much for fast fucks. On normal days you get slow and deep fucks or if you want to you can ride him stupid. So to have Yoongi rut into you like a crazy animal steals your sanity from you. Because Yoongi’s a goddamn natural in rough fucks. He just needs to be pissed enough for them, fueled by anger at the world and with boiling rage in his stomach. Only then Yoongi fucks fast and rough, using your pussy to punish his demons and wind down in the process.

You won’t ever complain. You love being his stress ball. That shit feels so fucking good to be.

So good in fact that Yoongi’s next flick of his thumb forces a surprise high out.

"Yoongiii", you scream up, dragging out his last syllable as you shake out of control.

"Shit! Fuck!" Yoongi gasps loudly, hips stuttering in surprise, "shit baby, urgh fuck", he throws his head back, "so fucking tight."

"Yoongi oh god, Yoongi please", you keen. You swear that a part of you dies in that high. And resurrects again a second later when Yoongi slips out of you solely to give your cunt the freedom to squirt all over the pillow. It seeps out of your well-fucked hole, soaking the fabric and own skin.

"Good girl, that’s it. Squirt for me", he rasps, rubbing your overstimulated clit to force even the last drop out of you.

"Yoongi please", you sob, crying the hottest tears. The ropes are way too strong, you can't fight them. Holy shit you are victim to his maddened touch if you wanted to or not, "please honey please ah.."

"It's okay baby, almost there. Almost there", Yoongi soothes you. He circles his thumb and forces those last two convulses out of you. They were terribly stubborn, almost making him believe that they would never want to come out.

You wail and fight the ropes. Yoongi almost feels pity for you, but doesn’t. Not when your pussy looks so happy squirting for him. He is so obsessed with it. It’s the visual proof that only he can fuck you that well, that all those years with you made him an expert in your body. Yoongi feels invincible in those moments.

"Please", you barely get it out, trying to close your legs as best as possible.

"It's okay love. You’re already done", he says softly, abandoning your clit to caress your tummy instead, "see? It wasn’t that bad, was it?"

"Yes it was", you whine, sobbing softly, "I'm, I’m so w-weak now."

Yoongi chuckles, "adorable", he rasps, jerking off his cock lazily.

"Don't laugh at me", you whine, "it's your fault."

"I know, I take the blame completely", he says, bending down just to kiss your tummy, "good job, baby. You’ve done so well", he whispers against your skin.

The praise makes you feel so fuzzy and happy. You did a good job. You were his best girl.

"Can I be rewarded?" you ask shyly.

"Rewarded?" Yoongi lifts his head to look at you.

You open your mouth and stick your tongue out.

"Fuck yes", Yoongi full on moans, squeezing around the base of his cock, "I'm the luckiest fucking bastard, baby. You’re so goddamn perfect."

He climbs on the bed behind your head, hovering his cock over your face. You can smell him so well like this. Sweet like your pussy and addicting like his cock.

You tilt your head back, sticking your tongue out further.

Yoongi curses and cups your cheek just to move your head into his prefered position. Seconds later you feel his cock glide into your mouth. He tastes like you and his own pleasure. Sweet and a little salty. It’s a nice combination because it tastes like a good and satisfying fuck.

"That's it", he rasps and sucks in air through his teeth, "fuck", he releases it again.

Yoongi keeps holding your face, using his other hand to support his cock. He rocks back and forth slowly, watching in delight as your lips move around his girth.

"Good girl, the best girl", he rasps and scrunches his nose in bliss, "fuck baby."

You moan around his cock, basking in the sensations like a hungry animal. You love getting your face fucked by your husband. His cock tastes so goddamn good.

He laughs lazily and rolls his hips deeper, hitting the back of your throat repeatedly. You whimper happily, welcoming him with a tingling stomach.

"So good, that’s so good", he lulls with a dizzy head.

His fingers slip from your face to trace your throat instead. He feels it bulge each time he bottoms out, basking in the sensation of your gag and the happy moan that follows. He can feel his balls rub against your face, cursing them for being so goddamn heavy and sensitive. If they weren’t, he wouldn't have to shiver each time he feels your nose against them or the softness of the blindfold.

You moan around him again, throat tight and wet and oh so warm.

"Seriously", he hisses, eyes falling closed, "I'm close baby", he croaks out and finally moans. He doesn’t care that he overshadows your sounds. He feels them around his cock nonetheless and he needs to let those sounds out before he goes insane. Holding back as he fucked your pussy was bearable but not this. Not fucking your face. It feels like fucking paradise and Yoongi needs to moan.

Somehow you seem to begin meeting his movements because of his moans, sucking on his cock as if your life depended on it. Your husband has the sexiest voice, crafted especially for moans. You love when he lets go and lets them out.

"I'm really fucking close", he croaks, breath trembling and throat rattling in a deep moan. He is throbbing inside you, dripping down your throat. Every movement feels like sweet torture, his balls are so fucking tight that he could explode.

You encourage him with a sweet moan, sending the vibrations of it all through his body. You need his cum so bad.

"Baby", Yoongi growls loudly and pulls out just to fucking abuse his cockhead with rapid jerks of his hand, "baby now", he moans deliciously, thrusting his hips against nothing as his cock squirts all over your face. He is shaking like crazy, head thrown back and cock fucking his own hand.

You love this so much, welcoming the warm facial with your tongue sticking out and your eyes producing happy tears.

Yoongi comes down with a graphic curse, slacking and falling on his butt right behind you.

"Holy shit", he croaks, panting heavily.

You mewl and tilt your head back. With one lick your lips are cleaned. You swallow happily, making Yoongi purr deeply.

"You're so sexy", he rasps, "fuck baby, give me a moment. I'll free you."

Yoongi opens your hand ties first, soothing your wrists with soft kisses.

"Good girl", he praises, “does anything hurt, baby?”

“No, it’s just a little sore, but it’s not bad.”

“Okay. I’ll massage them for you later, promise”, he says, kissing each of your wrists once more before moving on to your legs.

He cuts through the ropes. That's what he does. He uses the knife to cut the ropes and it is glorious.

"Really? Again?" you laugh, "we lost so much rope already because of you.”

"I'm too lazy. I can’t be bothered", he says in a chuckle, helping you move your legs to stretch them out and get them relaxed again.

"Mhhm honey, that’s nice", you sigh.

"That's good. You did really well with the ties", he praises, setting your legs down so they were tangling over the edge of the bed.

He pulls the ruined pillow from under you, throwing it on the ground.

"That one's ruined", he says.

"It's your fault", you throw back, making him chuckle.

"I know, I don’t feel guilty", he says, pulling you into a sitting position to take off your blindfold.

You have to blink a few times to get used to the new freedom. When his face finally appears out of the blurriness, he is smiling. He cups your cheeks, wiping your tears away.

"You cried."

"It felt so good", you answer him, making his eyes soften.

"My pretty girl", he whispers, tilting your head up for a sweet kiss.

You feel so giddy, melting in his hands like a chocolate drop in the sun.

Yoongi breaks the kiss just to continue gazing at you.

"Thank you", he whispers.

"For what?" you whisper back, holding his waist.

"For taking my mind off of today. I seriously wanted to set the whole world on fire."

"Don't. You know I’m always here when you need me", you say, making his eyes sparkle in adoration.

"And I'm here whenever you need me, baby. You can count on me. You know that, don’t you?" he whispers, resting his forehead against yours.

"I know", you promise him, reaching up to twist his hair just to make sure he doesn’t leave, "I know baby, I know."

Yoongi nods his head and caresses your temples, letting you know that he is so, so grateful for everything you do but most of all for your existence.

"Fuck", he exhales deeply, "now all I gotta do is go down and face them. Shit, I don’t wanna. I don’t know what to tell them."

"Then don’t. Take a bath with me, let me take a look at the cuts and forget about them for tonight. Sleep. Rest. I promise you'll think of something. There's still tomorrow."

"I guess you’re right."

"I'm always right", you say, making him chuckle and peck your forehead.

"You're lucky I love you", he whispers with a smile.

"I love you too", you say with a grin, standing up just to pull him into a kiss as you guide him to the ensuite bathroom.

And Yoongi follows gladly, forgetting all about the messy future waiting for him tomorrow.

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thereaderstea · 3 years ago

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mafia bts week

This week, The Reader’s Tea celebrates the autumnal equinox! A time of equilibrium and second harvest. This is a time to reap the fruits of our labor, cleanse out the corrupt systems, weed out the spies. This is a time to activate our new cycle of growth and bring a new era to the Underground. The nights grow longer, and as we descend into the darkness of the night, we must face our inner darkness—we must learn to balance our image and shadow.

Today, the night and day, the light and dark, the inner and outer are in balance. Tomorrow, the darkness prevails.

Monday, the Day of the Moon

things have never been easy for you but you never expected it’d be them that would make things easier

Tuesday, the Day of War

you’ve tried to separate yourself from your infamous crime family, but a new case has your carefully-constructed world crashing down around you. now you have to figure out how to heal old wounds and handle the new man who enters your orbit.

Wednesday, the Day of Knowledge

as the man at the top, kim namjoon has almost everything he wants. almost. could a familiar face from the past change his future?

Thursday, the Day of Thunder and Lightning

being a loner has never bothered yoongi until now. until you.

Friday, the Day of Love

hoseok comes home in the middle of the night and it doesn’t take long for you to realize something is wrong. very, very wrong.

when a noise wakes you in the middle of the night, you find your husband in a bad way.

Saturday, the Day of Rest and Renewal

you tried so hard to be enough

Sunday, the Day of the Sun

Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of them through recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.

They left you without a goodbye, they broke your heart. You didn’t get your happily ever after. But now they’re back and they’re searching for you to make things right. Could you take them back into your life and let them back into your heart?

#mlist #bts fluff #bts angst #mafia bts #bts fanfic rec #fanfic rec #mafia bts week #september 2021 weeklong special #weeklong special

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nineteenninety-six · 5 years ago

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Escapism

REQUEST: hi! could i please request tommy x reader, where reader is married to a very wealthy man in a position of power, and they both know there will be disastrous consequences should anyone find out about the affair?

So I feel like this will might need a second part since I barely even touched the request but hey tell me what you think.

I also saw 1917 on Saturday and it’s an amazing film, I definitely recommend you to go see it

Trigger warning; mentions of abuse, orgy, drugs & drinking.

WORD COUNT : 2260

[PART TWO] [PART THREE] [PART FOUR]

They shouldn’t be doing this, (Y/N) knew that, but she couldn’t find it in herself to stop the affair between her and Tommy.

(Y/N) was married to Stewart Langley, a rich and powerful man from high society who got anything he wanted simply because he had money. That was also the reason why he got (Y/N), despite the fact he was over thirty years her senior. It was no secret amongst the elite in London that Stewart had practically bought her. Her own family didn’t come from the same society and class as Stewart but they were still very rich since her father was a lawyer.

It was a charity dinner where (Y/N)’s father had introduced his family to Stewart Langley, who he had worked with a few times and it was not long after that night did (Y/N)’s life become a nightmare. (Y/N) had lost track of the number of times she prayed and wished to go back in time to before that blasted dinner before her life was ruined due to the greed and ego of men.

When her parents told her that they set up an arranged marriage between her and Stewart, she didn’t know whether to cry or laugh. She didn’t believe them at first, she had just entered her twenties and Stewart was the same age as her parents but she quickly realised that they were serious. (Y/N) was by herself, she didn’t know who to turn to for help and she was also an only child so she had no-one to stand up for her or for her to confide in. She was utterly helpless and alone, her own parents had thrown her away.

Two weeks after they told her, (Y/N) was standing in a church, trying her hardest to keep her tears at bay and her voice steady as she stood opposite Stewart reciting her vows. She never thought that her wedding day, a day that she had been dreaming about since she was a little girl, would be the worst day of her life and that she would be crying all day.

At first, she couldn’t understand why her parents had set up the marriage but after the wedding when she saw them attend gatherings and social events that they would never have been invited to beforehand, along with rumours that they had bought a new bigger house, it dawned on her that she was bought by her husband.

(Y/N) lived a luxurious life with her husband but that didn’t make it a good or nice marriage. Stewart was a verbally abusive man, he also became physically abusive on the occasion when he drank too much or had taken drugs, for the most part, she was able to lock herself in her room but it took a bad interaction with Stewart for her to realise that it was better for her to hide away in her room rather than to try and help him but the silver lining of the whole situation was that Stewart didn’t force himself on her, he told her that he was too old to have children so the only reason he got her, was to essentially show her off and besides, whenever he did want to sleep with someone, he would visit the brothel in town.

Stewart threw a first-anniversary party to celebrate their first year of marriage, though it was more like a business function where Stewart invited all his friends, co-workers and business associates and spent all night speaking with them, while (Y/N) was tucked into a small corner of the room nursing a glass of wine and occasionally talking to a wife of one of the many businessmen that flooded the room.

The party is where she first met Thomas Shelby. She had heard whispers about the newly elected MP and the rumours that surrounded him about how he was a gangster or at least involved with gangs back in Birmingham. It didn’t surprise (Y/N) that Stewart had invited him, he had been trying to get involved in politics for a while now and so it didn’t matter that Thomas Shelby was a Labour MP as Stewart thought he would be able to bribe him to change parties and join the conservatives.

“Congratulations.” A voice she never heard before brought her out of her people watching.

“Sorry?” (Y/N) cleared her throat and turn to face where the voice came from.

The man in front of her was handsome, with his dark hair that was shaved on the sides and his bright yet icy blue eyes.

“On your anniversary. Congratulations.” The man’s eyes bore into her, it was slightly unnerving.

(Y/N)’s lips twisted into a bitter smile, “Thank you….”

“Tommy. Tommy Shelby.” The man answered her unspoken question.

“Thank you, Mr Shelby.”

Tommy opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Stewart shouting out (Y/N)’s from across the room, motioning for her to join his side. Tommy could see (Y/N)’s shoulders droop at the command and he frowned at the sight.

“I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening Mr Shelby.” (Y/N) gave him a small smile before walking over to her husband.

Tommy swiped himself another drink before tucking himself into the corner that (Y/N) just vacated and kept eyes on the couple, thoughts and speculations about them whirring around in his head.

The next time they met, it was at a fundraiser but unfortunately (Y/N) couldn’t run away and hide this time, Stewart’s arm was either tightly wrapped around her waist or tightly gripped around her wrist, so tight that she had no doubt that it would leave a bruise.

“Mr Shelby!” Stewart approached Tommy with a wide smile, a smile that meant that he wanted something and that he wasn’t opposed to bully or bribe his way to ger it.

“Mr Langley...Mrs Langley” Tommy shook Stewart’s hand with a tight smile and tipped his head at (Y/N).

Stewart opened his mouth but paused, glancing at (Y/N) “Darling, I’m sure I saw Mary-Anne around here somewhere, why don’t you go over to her whilst I talk to Thomas here”

“Of course.” (Y/N) nodded, she nodded at Tommy before she left them.

Mary-Anne was the wife of one of Stewart’s friends and was the only person that (Y/N) could tolerate even a little bit. It wasn’t like they were friends or anything but (Y/N) could spend time with her without having the urge to throw herself out of the nearest window but even so, she needed a drink or two get through an interaction with her which is exactly what she did. After quickly downing the glass of wine in her hand, (Y/N) picked up another before making her way over to Mary-Anne and the rest of the wives.

“(Y/N)! Oh there you are, I wondered if I would get the chance to see you today” Mary-Anne giggled as she spotted (Y/N) making her way over.

“I’m sorry, Stewart just wouldn’t let me leave his side” (Y/N) falsely giggled, acting as if Stewart and her were deeply in love. The rest of the women in the group laughed and giggled as well, falling for her lie.

(Y/N) spent the rest of the evening with the women, a headache slowly forming as time went on.

When the live band stopped and was replaced with soft music coming from the phonograph and the many tables of food were taken away and replaced with more alcohol, (Y/N)’s stomach twisted and she began to feel sick. She knew what was coming and she was desperately looking for a way out.

This happened every time these type of people met up, they spent a few hours getting drunk under the guise of a fundraiser or any other type of meeting before it became dark which is where the prostitutes were invited in along with drugs and more alcohol. For the most part, when this happened in the past, she was able to hide in an alcove somewhere and become invisible amongst the activities that were occurring in the room, though she really didn’t feel like hiding in the same room tonight.

She found a way to escape when the prostitutes both male and female were brought in along with the drugs and everyone was distracted. She quickly walked through the many halls of the mansion they were in, she didn’t want to run through them and catch unwanted attention, so she took her time. Once she found a door that led out to the back garden, she stepped through and took a deep breath of the cool fresh air. She tried her hardest to calm herself but she couldn’t stop the shaking of her hands or the tears that spilled over, she told herself that she shouldn’t be upset, she was living a better life than most people in the country and had more wealth than she needed but she would trade all of it to live a humble life with a man she chose herself and loved wholeheartedly.

Trapped in her thoughts, she didn’t hear the footsteps behind her until the person spoke.

“I’m guessing you’re not fond of the activities that are occurring inside either eh?”

(Y/N) whipped around the sound of the Brummie accent and stared in shock at the man who stood opposite her.

“Mr Shelby! I didn’t expect anyone else to be out here, I apologize.” (Y/N) quickly brushed away her tears as she spoke to the man.

“No need to apologize, I’m the one who interrupted you.” Tommy’s gaze was strong and piercing but (Y/N) didn’t feel uncomfortable.

“You’re not inside with your husband and the others?” Tommy spoke again, his eyebrow raising.

(Y/N) scoffed and let out a strained laugh, “No, not my type of scene. You?”

“Can’t say it’s my type of thing either.” The corner of Tommy’s lips quirked up as he made his way over to where she was standing.

“I don’t know much about you Mr Shelby but I feel like none of this is your scene. You know the fundraisers and charity balls with the upper class, no offence.”

“Please, call me Tommy but you’re right, none of this is me. Am I that obvious?”

“Probably not to the average person but I like people watching.” (Y/N) threw a small smile at Tommy who grinned back. There were a few moments of silence before Tommy spoke again,

“Your husband...how’d you meet?”

“You don’t know?” (Y/N) quirked an eyebrow.

“No, should I?”

(Y/N) smiled again, she felt comfortable around Tommy, “It was an arranged marriage but it’s a known secret that he pretty much paid for me. You know, as if I was some object.” “What do you mean he paid for you?” Tommy looked mildly disturbed, something that (Y/N) thought was something that didn’t happen often.

“He worked with my father a few times and at some charity ball my father introduced him to me and my mother and the next week I’m being told I’m getting married and before I know it, two weeks after that I’m in a church marrying a man who’ve I only met once. Then I start hearing whispers that my parents bought a brand new house along with the fact that they’ve attending private clubs, the types that charge you an exorbitant amount.”

Tommy let out a low whistle.

“I know right.” (Y/N) let out a small laugh, “I do wonder how much I cost him though. Not that it would have made an impact on his wealth, he’s still as rich as ever.”

“Hmm, I guess that makes sense, he does look much older than you.”

(Y/N) laughed again, “He is much older than me. He’s over thirty years older than me, around the same age as my parents.”

“How old are you?” Tommy asked

“Twenty-four”

Tommy let out a scoff of disbelief, she was only a few years older than his youngest sibling Finn. He’s never met her parents but he felt anger at them on her behalf.

“Do you still speak to your parents?”

“No, I was absolutely furious at them and refused to talk to them. They said that I was overreacting and that they were still my parents but...parents don’t sell their child off do they? But anyway, after a few weeks of weak attempts to reconcile they finally stopped.”

“You were not overreacting, you had every right to be angry.” Tommy consoled her.

“Do you have any children Tommy?” (Y/N) asked.

“I do. I have a son, Charlie.” Tommy smiled as he thought of his son.

“You’re married?” (Y/N) glanced at his hands, looking for a ring.

“No...Charlie’s mother died when he was young.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for your loss.” (Y/N) gave Tommy a sympathetic smile. “How old is Charlie?” “He’s seven, getting big now.”

“Mr Shelby!” A shout caught their attention, it was Tommy’s driver “The party is over now sir.”

(Y/N) turned to face Tommy and held her hand out for him to shake it, “I should leave now before Stewart gets impatient for waiting too long or becomes suspicious but it was nice meeting you and I thank you for your company.”

“Pleasure’s mine, goodbye Mrs Langley” Tommy shook her hand and watched as she walked away.

#peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinder imagine #imagines #fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #x reader #Peaky Blinders

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themarvellouswriter · 4 years ago

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MOB! SEBASTIAN x TALL! READER

PART V OF THE MASTERPIECE SERIES

Warnings: Nothing, slight swearing (and family drama?) Word Count: 1.9k Genres: Angst and light fluff. Family drama Notes: We meet the famous Winchesters and the Halins. And like, TJ Hammond is so cute? Like baby? Protect? Yes sir. Yum sir. Also, I’ve made a VERY subtle SPN reference, so if you find it, do share and I’ll give you a shout out!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up with a smile. Despite not having known Sebastian very long, you were completely enamored by him and his charming personality. You felt him shift beside you. He’d insisted on keeping you company in your room till he’d eventually drifted off and you didn’t have the heart to wake him. You watch his chest rise and fall with each breath. You push his soft hair away from his face. “You should take a picture if you like my face so much,” he said, opening an eye to look at you. You gave him a sly smile. “Maybe I would’ve if someone hadn’t lost my phone.” Sebastian’s face turned pink as he bit his lip. You cooed at him, pushing him out of bed. “We have a meeting with my family. We need to prepare,” you said, getting out of bed. He pouts but then it melts into a coy smile. “Meeting the parents so fast? Someone is eager.” You roll your eyes good - naturedly. “When you get kidnapped and have a bounty on your head, things do move along rather quickly, don’t they?” He stands up and stretches, revealing a very nice expanse of his abs. Your gaze flickers down, he notices and smirks. “Like what you see?” “Oh yeah, definitely. I could stare at you all day but,” you say with a shrug. “Family matters. Pun intended.” He gives your cheek a chaste kiss which leaves your knees weak and face hot. Simple gestures of affection were much more exhilarating than passionate ones in the heat of the moment. He’s gone by the time you recover and you mentally chide yourself for being so vulnerable around him all the time. You get ready for the day and go downstairs to wait for Sebastian.

You’re dressed in a pair of jeans and an oversized sweater with your favourite heeled boots. Sebastian comes down a few moments later wearing a maroon Henley that makes you sob inwardly at how good he looks. His hair are slightly damp and curling at the ends. He sees you waiting for him and gives you the softest smile that’s ever been directed towards you. [A/N: You know what I’m talking about.] ‘He is about as dangerous as a newborn kitten.’ Suddenly you realise that you’re towering over him and you inwardly kick yourself for wearing heels. ‘Stupid Y/N, you’re supposed to look small and cute, not like an obnoxious noodle.’ Sebastian is quick to notice the quick shift in your mood. “What’s wrong?” You sigh and say, “It’s the stupid heels I’m wearing. I hate towering over people. Especially people that I like.” He grins. “I like that you’re taller than me. Its incredibly sexy.” He moves closer and closer with each word. “Very, very hot.” He tilts his head to kiss you, catching you by surprise.

“Do you actually like it? Or are you just saying that to pacify me? It wouldn’t be the first time, you know. It’s happened before.” You’re pouting now but you also want to know if your height is a turn on for him. “Trust me. I like you just the way you are. Heels and all,” he whispers, kissing your nose. You scrunch up your face at his actions. “Sap.” “Call me what you want but I never lie.” Despite his reassurances, you’re still slightly self conscious. Noticing your hesitation, he sighs and pulls you in for a bruising kiss that leaves you gasping for air. His hands are tightly gripping your hips, pressing you against him. His tongue is in your mouth and you swoon. He’s an amazing kisser, and seeing him being so passionate about ridding you of your insecurities makes you feel special. One of his hands moves lower to grip your bum and the sudden squeeze has you yelping in his arms. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, embarrassed. He laughs softly and rubs the nape of your neck. “Convinced?” He asks. You let out a muffled ‘yes’ and pull away.

Your face feels warm as you follow him outside and leave his place for the second time in two days. “Am I still kidnapped now that you know who my parents are?” “Only if you want to be,” he grins. “You’re such a courteous kidnapper. Imagine not being kidnapped and going on dates. Magic,” your tone is teasing and his smile widens. “Oh?” “Oh yeah, first date. You torturing a guy and me finding out that I’m on someone’s hit list. Second date in the middle of the night finding out that my entire family is made up of gangsters. Third date, confronting said family about keeping secrets about being gangsters. Isn’t this fun?” “You’re taking this surprisingly well. How?” You shrug. “I honestly have no clue. I’m just trying to survive one day after the other. No point in worrying about something you have no control over.” He looks at you. “What?” “You’re amazing. You’re the most interesting woman I’ve ever met. You’re something different, special. Really special.”

You shyly look away as your house comes into view. You see Sofia leaning against her car parked outside. You get out as Sebastian parks into the driveway. “Hey, Sofia. What’re you doing here?” She looks up and waves as you walk towards her. “Your mum called. She told me to get ready for a family dinner? I mean, we already have the rehearsal dinner tomorrow. Why can’t this wait till then?” You purse your lips. “I found out something about them and now I wanna have nice chat with them. That’s it.” She shrugs. “She wanted me to be with you, so here I am.” She looks over your shoulder. “And you’re with him. Pretty boy Sebastian.” You roll your eyes. “If you’re here. You might as well help prepare for dinner!” Sebastian walks up and greets Sofia, cordially. The three of you go inside and begin preparations.

By the time five o’clock rolls around, everything is ready and Sebastian has changed into a formal suit. This one is steel grey, perfectly complimenting his eyes and you can’t stop staring, as he finishes laying the table. Watching his muscles flex and the cloth stretch along his back. Sofia notices and forces you into wearing a dress. You pout but go along with it, especially when Sofia whispers how Sebastian is unable to keep his eyes off of you. As soon as the clock strikes five, the doorbell rings. You suck in a breath and open the door. You meet the rest of your family’s eyes and quietly let them. You dad enters first followed by your mother, then your oldest brother Dean and his husband Castiel. Sam’s eyes are large and pleading as his fiancée Jessica drags him inside. She shoots you a sad smile and takes her place at the table. There is an older, sharply dressed woman behind them. Sebastian gasps as he sees her. “Mother?” She gives him a frosty smile as she walks past you and settles down next to your father. “When I said family meeting, I kind of meant my family. No offence,” you murmur against Sebastian’s ear. “None taken. I’m as surprised to see her here as you are,” he whispers back and you both exchange a look. Everyone is settled at the table. You father at the head, with Mrs. Stan and you mother at his sides. Sebastian next to his mother and you next to him and Sofia next to you. Next to your mother is Dean who gives you a subtle reassuring wink, Castiel who looks more interested in the food than the people around him. Sam and Jessica at the end with the latter right next to Sofia. In the back of your mind you vaguely realised that this was the first time your dining table had been properly used.

You swallow and start to speak but your father beats you to it. “Y/N. Be a dear, let’s eat first and then talk.” You nod and begin serving. The meal is tense and it feels like everyone is on edge. Except Castiel who looks virtually unbothered by what’s happening around him. When everyone is nearly finished, your father looks at you. “That was lovely. Thank you.” The rest of the table mutters their agreement. “Now, to more pressing matters.” You feel Sebastian envelope your hand in his and give it a squeeze under the table. You felt warmth flood through you and you met your father’s eyes. “Yes, it is true that we’re the Winchester crime family. And yes, Sam and Dean knew. And all of us decided to keep it from you so that you could you do whatever you want without being associated with us. And this is why Georgeta is here.” He shoots his wife a look. “Look Y/N. Just because we didn’t tell you about this, doesn’t mean that we love you any less. Sam and Dean put up quite a fight when we told them of our decision to not include you. But we all decided it was for the best. To keep you safe and out of trouble.” You bit your lower lip, chewing it between your teeth. “So, everything was a lie? Like you own a pharmaceutical company? And that Dean and Cass are involved with supplying the government with arms? And that Sam is a professor?” “Not everything. The best lies are based on truths,” interjected Dean. “Cass and I supply arms to everyone with the means to pay for them. Sam’s our bookie. Jess is the best defence lawyer in the country. Mum owns many, many pharmaceuticals and dad manages everything.” He looks at you sympathetically. “We just want you safe. Getting involved in this is rough. And none of us want that for you. Plausible deniability in case things ever go sideways.” You swallow and sit up straighter. “If I hadn’t found out, would you ever have told me?” “No.” Its Sam who answers. “Absolutely not. Its too dangerous.” You grit your teeth. “Just for me? Nobody else? Nobody else is prone to doing crazy shit? Nobody else is in danger? How do you think I would feel if something happened to anyone of you? Would I not be devastated?” Your voice is shrill and you feel angry tears prickling your eyes. “You think by keeping me out of the loop you’re keeping me safe but you’re doing the exact opposite! I would never be on my guard because I would never know who my enemies are! I can protect myself, I don’t need any babysitter to keep me safe.” A tear makes its way down your cheek and you feel slightly smug as you notice your family’s rueful expressions.

“Well, this was a lovely meal. But I think we have other things to talk about,” came a heavily accented yet light voice from Sebastian’s mother. “Mama,” mutters Sebastian warningly. “Oh hush Sebastian. We know that little Y/N here more upset by the fact that this was kept a secret rather than the secret itself.” She looks at you, her mouth curling up into a smile. “Isn’t that right, little one?” You slowly clench and unclench your hands. “Yes it is. I had a right to know.” “And I agree! Secrets between families can tear it apart. This is why I have a proposal for you all. I say that Sebastian and Y/N get married.” The table then exploded into a cacophony indignant noises.

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boogiewrites · 6 years ago

Text

Choking On Sapphires 62

Title & Song: This Feeling

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Word Count: 6000+

Summary: Genevieve takes Alfie to meet her infamous uncle, Altar. With heavy subjects on their mind and Altar's wisdom, both find themselves more certain of their feelings for each other than ever before.

Warnings/Tags: Language. FLUFF. Meeting Gen’s true father. Deep thoughts on why they feel the way they do. Altar coming in with some HOT tea. Final build up to the big i love you’s.Yiddish and Hebrew.

**Chapter song is This Feeling by Alabama Shakes.**

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

In the early afternoon, you and Alfie make your way up to your apartment. The windows were now just cracked, the fireplaces roaring and the smell of bread being baked coming from the tall, light-colored open space. You tell Alfie to get some tea, giving him a kiss to his cheek before patting his bum and sending him into the kitchen before you trotted up the stairs with the purpose to call your uncle.

You perch by the window, the sun warming you as you laid back into a plush chair in a beam of light like a cat.

"Lafitte." you hear a familiar old voice, one of your uncle's closest business mates.

"Bonjour Reuben, it's Genevieve, is Altar available?"

"He's in his last meeting of the day, dear, is it urgent?"

"Oh, no I just needed to ask him a question."

"May I be of assistance?"

"I was curious if he had a free evening? I'm in Paris with a friend and would like to see him."

"Oh, he'll be thrilled. There's nothing in the diary, so no business."

"He has cut back hasn't he?"

"He's trying." he chuckles.

"Will he be long I'd like to speak with him?"

"The men are leaving..." you hear a mumble voices.

"I'll have him on in just a moment."

You hear a scuffle and watch the skyline as your feet tap to nothing in particular as your legs hang off the arm of the chair.

"Is it true? Am I really going to see my lovely princess again so soon?" you hear in his warm, loud voice and you smile.

"If you have the evening free yes."

"For you, yes. You're much preferred to the company I was going to keep." he muses.

"Don't let me keep you from anything, I'll be in Paris for a few more days."

"No, no, come, please child. It was only a forced social call, you're doing me a favor by getting me out of it."

"Happy to help. I have someone I want to bring with me, if that's okay."

"Oh goodness."

"Don't."

"Oh, Lilly..." you hear the teasing in his voice.

"Uncle..." you draw out in a 'please don't' tone.

"I know who you're here with!" he says in a playful way. "Last you were crying over him if I recall. First sad tears then happy. I'm assuming the tears have stopped or at the least remained happy."

"No tears as of late, and if they are they are from happiness yes." you smile. "We're here together, we've been together in an official capacity for a little while now."

"I know. You think I don't keep tabs on you?" he laughs. "You and a fellow Jewish gangster? Of course, I'm going to keep my ear to the ground on that. What could be more interesting?"

"Your own business?" you snark.

"HA!" you can picture his head thrown back in laughter. "I do hope he treasures that wit and humor of yours."

"He does. Which is one reason I'd like you to meet him. I know he'd love to meet you. In a personal and not business capacity this time. Plenty of time to talk business later, but tonight I'd just like my uncle to meet my potential future husband." it rolls off the tongue far more easily than you'd imagined it would.

"Oh my." he pauses. "You are serious, little one?"

"Very much so. We've had time alone here on holiday and it's only led to deeper conversations about our future as a team."

"A team? He must be as clever as I've heard he is to know he should think himself an equal to a woman like you." he says with a content tone.

"If he did not you know I wouldn't have given him the time of day." you laugh.

"You are brilliant as always, Lilly. Would you like to come to my place? I can have dinner for us all. Would be no trouble at all."

"That sounds lovely, which place would you like to meet?"

"I've been staying at my country estate. Perhaps the scenery might be a source of romantic ambiance for you two." he chuckles.

"Perhaps." you sigh. "I'll have Benji bring us over near dusk. Don't embarrass me too much, please. I rather like this one."

"I'd never." he scoffs.

"You can be as stern as you'd like but play nice. Don't put him in a bad mood and ruin my evening." you laugh.

"Only a few stories from your childhood then."

"Don't make me regret this." you giggle. ----------

You see Alfie's hand clutching and regripping on the top of his cane so you know he's in thought and nervous.

"It'll be fine darling," you say, leaning in with a smile and taking his fidgeting arm into your grasp. "He'll love you I'm sure of it."

"Sorry, love. It innit really that I'm worried about," he says with a low brow. "Me brain is tellin' me I'm meetin' a powerful man for business, yeah? But I'm tryin' to tell it I'm not, then I think it's 'bout the equivalent of meetin' your father or somethin' of that nature, and I feel unprepared and me leg starts twitchin'."

"Perhaps all the walking today has your back acting up?" you offer with a chastizing smile he can't see as you rest your cheek on his arm. Even if he wouldn't admit he was nervous, you would've totally understood if he was. It wasn't only him meeting someone he respected, and those people were few and far between, it was him meeting your family. In your faith, these sorts of things weren't taken lightly and with the discussions of marriage earlier in the day you know he had to have it on his mind. Altar was a parent to you in your heart. He'd taken you in when no one else would and helped build and mend the damage George had caused. So Alfie was essentially meeting your family, and you felt far less nervous than you expected.

Parents typically were more involved in unions, as was tradition, but what you two had was far from textbook within the Jewish faith. Still, the involvement of others in your relationship, and one of such significance for you couldn't go overlooked by him. He had visions of discussing terms and conditions, lawyers and Rabbi's huddled over a ketubah and his intimidating, stand-in father-in-law supervising it all. Your sweet words of distraction calmed his worry and his overactive imagination. You cooed and told him how you thought Altar would like him as you took his fidgeting hand into yours and stroked his blemished skin to soothe him. He could take anything another man could throw at him, he figures. And he could take even more than that if it was for you.

You feel the fluttering in your stomach, a happy nervousness you hadn't felt since you were a child as you stood in the foyer of Altar's country estate. Outside the city on a lovely green piece of land, a place you'd been so many times you couldn't count, sat a stone home covered in vines and surrounded by flowers and shrubbery. Alfie could see it's influence on you in the lavender in the garden and the fabulously ornate mezuzah by the door.

Alfie is caught off guard by the informal and affectionate greeting you receive from two elderly house workers. Coos and kisses, squeezing you with closed eyes and smiles on their faces as they call you by your Hebrew name given to you by your mother. This is the first Alfie has heard of this name and is touched by your mother's will to have you named in such a way despite your father's clear refusal of expressing your heritage.

"Chanah?" he whispers as you walk together down the cozy halls of dark wood floors and stucco walls.

"Yes?" you ask, turning your face his way, the happiness from the reunion of childhood caretakers still on your face.

"Which name is this now?" he asks with wandering eyes about the space.

"My middle name my mother gave me. They called me that here as a child when I was alone without my siblings, they never missed an opportunity to remind me of where I came from once they found out I'd learned of my mother's secret."

"These people are lovely," he says with a warm and even tone. "So is the name Chanah, my love." you give him a soft smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek when you were left alone as they checked to make sure Altar was ready to receive you. His sweet little Chanah, he thought, feeling his heart stutter at the thought you having a Hebrew name to call you by. You were shaping up to be the perfect woman, the perfect wife for a man like him. His beloved as strong as her namesake, he muses. He's still looking at the beaming but reserved joy exuding from your face as heavy footsteps meet the other side of large white double doors. He feels you squeeze his hand and his gaze is torn from you from the loud and loving voice of your uncle.

He could tell by the way he held himself that in his youth he must've been a true force to be reckoned with. Alfie figures he must've been near sixty years of age, the grey scattered about his hair starting to overtake the darkness of his youth. Much like Alfie, his presence filled a room and burst it at the seems with charisma and demanding energy. He wore a black kippah, covering greying hair that was otherwise as dark as yours. You had the same dark eyes, deeper set and intense under full brows with skin the same lovely tan, olive tone. He really could have passed for your father. His features were markedly more masculine of course, a strong nose over smiling lips, a thick beard covering a clear squared and strong jaw. He wore clothes very similar to Alfie's although he was in a much more casual form of dress with a simple white shirt and trousers as opposed to Alfie's layers of vests and jacket.

"My perfect bubbeleh (little doll)! Shyane Maidel (pretty maiden, a term of endearment usually used by older family members)! My darling niece, how are you?" he says with a strain to his voice as he holds you tight and groans as he lifts your feet off the floor. Alfie can't help but smile, seeing that contrary to the dim portrait you'd painted of life with your biological father, that you had known love from this man and your mother's family clearly and he found himself wanting to thank Altar for giving you the love you deserved.

"Oh Uncle, you mensch (man, one who represents the finest qualities of humanity), you flatter me." she says, kissing his cheek and holding his face with both hands. "I am splendid." you say, patting his cheek.

"And would you like to introduce me to your zeeskeit (sweetie/honey)?" he grins, eyebrows wiggling as he grins and nods his head in Alfie's direction. He was relieved to hear he seemed to be treating him as a friend and not a fellow criminal.

"This is, of course, my darling, Alfie Solomons of Camden Town." you coo, walking back over and taking his arm as the older man take steps towards him with a large, outstretched hand and Alfie faces him with a mirrored stick straight posture and raised chin. "Alfie this is my incorrigible Uncle, Altar Lafitte." you grin and chuckle.

"Shalom, Mr. Alfie Solomons." Altar says with a warm and friendly lilt that makes you breath out a sigh of relief.

"Aleichem Shalom, Mr. Lafitte. Please, call me Alfie."

"And call me Altar." he says with a grin. "I would say my little Lilly here introduced me to you, but it would be daft of us to pretend we didn't know who the other was, wouldn't it?" he chuckles.

"I'm inclined to agree." he nods and glances over to you. "If it would be alright to speak in an informal sense? I don't mean to show offense to the family of my beloved here."

"Of course, I insist. Damned with formalities, tonight. We aren't businessmen here now are we? We're just two men who happen to love this brilliant woman." he says, leaning forward towards you as you smile sheepishly. "I do have to admit, I was rather surprised to hear she was with someone."

"I was as surprised as anyone else." Alfie jokes with that charming grin you loved to see when he was being social.

Altar laughs and nods your way. "She will keep you guessing and on your toes, won't she?" he chuckles.

"That she does."

"I am elated to hear she has chosen to be with someone in our line of work. And the more I learned about you, the more impressed I was with her decision making. Not that I ever doubted it." he says with a comforting glance. "But you, Alfie, you are a real tzutzik (ambitious person) and mighty clever if the stories I have heard are indeed true."

"I will gladly agree if given the chance." he grins.

"HA!" Altar says, reaching over and patting Alfie's arm. "I see why you like this one," he says in a sneaky tone, leaning your way but his words were clearly not meant to be a secret. "Come! Let's eat and talk and rejoice in this joyous occasion!" he begins, turning to move down the corridor. "It's not every day our precocious Lily brings someone home to us." he begins. "In fact, she has never brought anyone home to us." he chuckles. "So we must break out the good celebratory wine tonight!" he declares loudly to no one in particular.

You squeeze Alfie's arms and wrinkle your nose at him to let him know everything was going swimmingly. He gives you a cock of his head and a shrug and a hopeful glance that things would continue down such a path. ---------------

The damage to your ego from Altar's stories is nominal. He sticks to tales from your childhood and you're grateful. Tellings of your free and naive escapades amuse Alfie more than he could've imagined, the tales giving way to the birth of your nickname, Lily. It was given after Lillith of course, and only in a heartfelt way as your uncle sang the praises of your wildness as a child. Always rough and mischievous, fighting with the boys and never turning down a dare when you stayed with him. He speaks of the almost altar ego of yourself when you were with your father's family, your prim and proper, clean and soft-spoken nature he'd forced you into. It upset Altar to see you forced into a role you didn't naturally come into and he made it a point to never stifle your chaotic energy. Thus, under his guidance after being exiled from your family's home, you embraced your true nature and became a thief, and Lily Lafitte was born.

Alfie spoke of his own gangster birth lightly. He glanced over how the war and its violence changed him, finding his knack for it in the trenches. His formal education served him well, being promoted up to Captain as more and more men fell, leaving a scrubby boy from London with a smart mouth and quick wit fit for such a position despite his lack of upper class raising as was usual for someone in the position. His knowledge of the common man and his struggles made it easy to form a sense of solidarity among the Jews in Camden and with his men in the field, finding the lack of young men in the area after the war a space that needed filling and he took control over his slice of London piece by piece with the cooperation of fellow schoolmates from before the war and the common thread of heritage and religion that bound together his people and community. Altar nodded and listened, fully invested in learning more about his possible future nephew in law. He sees he was smart, successful and had a brutal hand as was needed in their sort of life. He believes him to be suited for you, as he wanted someone to be able to look after you after he was gone. And this Alfie Solomons seemed a man fit to take on the task, he had the money and the power and those two things when used well could take the both of you far together. He could see the glances, the small, polite but meaningful touches and how he said your name when he told stories of your jobs together. Altar could very clearly see you loved each other, despite your attempts at hiding it for the sake of manners. Your nonverbal and ease of communication was clear to him, finishing each other's thoughts and interjecting on stories without so much as an overstepping of the pace of conversation.

"As much as I have enjoyed your company tonight, the night is dragging on and I don't want to keep you two too terribly long...would you be so kind as to give me some time alone with my Lily? I have some things to speak to her about that require discretion." Altar says with a kind nod.

"Oh, no, of course." Alfie says pushing back his chair.

"Have Rada show you the library, darling, you'll adore it." you say with a soft smile his way.

He leans in to kiss your cheek. "Come find me when you need me, eh?" he says with a gentle caress of your upper back. "Altar, may I speak with you again before we depart?"

"Yes! Certainly." he says with a warm smile.

"I will see you shortly then." he says with a slight bow as he leaves the room.

You move to the seat closest to your Uncle and scoot it even closer.

"Oh, my little one..." he says with a broad grin, shaking his head. "Are you sure you have not come to tell me you've secretly married? Or perhaps you are with child?" he suggests with a deep chuckle.

"Neither," you respond back with a bashful smile. "What did you think of him, Uncle?" you ask in a whispered voice, eyelashes batting in anticipation.

"Well he certainly is very in love with you isn't he?" he says in a teasing tone. "I won't pry too much into your personal affairs, but would you grant an old man his wishes of knowing when you knew?"

"Knew what precisely?"

"Don't be silly, my sweet, when he told you he loved you." he chuckles

The flush comes across your face. "Oh." your lashes flutter. "Well we haven't'... exactly don't that." you say with a low brow.

"You are joking." he insists. "There is no way you haven't, surely. A blind man could see with the way you look at each other."

"I'm not joking." you shake your head and purse your lips. "I know I should. I've just been intimidated to do so to be perfectly honest."

"Things that you fear are usually things worth doing and conquering. It's what makes the struggle worth it."

"I believe him to be withheld due to my previous lack of enthusiasm about such things. I do not still hold those beliefs but I think he's only trying to be gentle."

"I won't fault him for handling you with care. But you two do not act like people who haven't shared confessions of love, dearest. You act like two very, very old friends who know each other most intimately."

"We have been through more than most that have been married for longer than we've been alive." you chuckle. "We've only been together some short months, but we've been close for a year now."

"That is not what I meant," he says simply. "I believe you to be old souls. I suspect this isn't your first go-round together."

"This really the time to be taking a piss, Uncle?" you say with a scolding glance.

"I'm serious." he says with high brows.

How was Altar, the man who would tease you when he'd find your nose buried in your bubbies old books, full of recipes with no explanation as to how to they worked, but they always did? He would be sure to reign in only your tendency to be very whimsical, telling you, you were acting like your grandfather, who was known to live in the clouds and not among the rest of men, making poor heartfelt decisions that ultimately lead to his demise. How was he suggesting such a blush-inducing idea as to you having such a connection to Alfie?

He leans in closer, elbow resting on the table as he speaks quietly. "You are in love with the man aren't you?"

You take a deep breath and nod. "Yes."

"Terribly so?"

"Disorientingly so." you chuckle and sigh.

"But you say your fear of expressing such things is in the past? And yet you do not tell him? Despite speaking of marriage?"

"He has taken the fear from me when it comes to such things. It was as if I had no choice," you speak softly and he sees your eyes far away in thought and it warms his heart. "He not only says the sweetest words, but he also follows them with actions that reflect the same."

"And did you leave him with any choice in falling for you?" he grins.

You think about how you'd gotten to this point. How despite his best efforts he couldn't bring himself to live without you. He'd told you he needed you. And a man like Alfie Solomons didn't need anything. He was a singular force that was self-sufficient. But there you were, bringing the titan to his knees and unintentionally so. But perhaps the same could be said for you of him. You loved him and you acted on it so naturally, you didn't even think twice about it. You did it without thinking despite what you'd told yourself for years of being bad at loving people in a romantic way. Your paths crossed by fate, and with extraordinary circumstances, you'd found yourselves forced together. By simply being around each other you had fallen in love. There was no trying to it, it happened and you certainly hadn't meant for it to. Perhaps Altar was right. You try to open your heart to the whimsical notion. Your lives couldn't be whole without the other now, left with no choice but an empty life and broken hearts if you fought against the natural magnetizing you had to each other.

"He told me I did not." you lower your head and look away, a slow realization coming across your face.

"Then what other conclusion is there my sweet child?"

You gulp and look back to him, a veil of tears over your eyes. "I am so dangerously in love with him, Uncle." you rasp out so you don't start crying.

"And you have been given a gift. So few know this." he touches your chest. "So few feel something like this, ever," he whispers back, wiping away a tear that escapes. "And he loves you. I can read men, my dearest and that man is yours as much as he is his own."

You nod and take his hand and kiss it, placing it in your lap. "I'll tell him." You nod and sniffle. "I'll tell him tonight," you say with more conviction. "I don't need to fear something that feels so right. I see that now. I thought for so long it didn't exist I..." you shake your head. "I'd given up."

"And that was when he came into your life, yes?"

You nod and smile.

"And isn't that how it is foretold?"

You nod more enthusiastically and he leans in and kisses your forehead.

"That's my girl," he says patting your cheek. "You tell him tonight." he taps the bulb of your nose. "You tell him and revel in his reciprocation and wake up two souls in love. A rare, rare blessing. One I would venture to guess is a personal gift from God to you both. I've never seen you look so happy, bubbelah."

"I've never been so happy." you wipe your tears and he leans back in his chair. "Hopefully I am capable of learning my lesson and it won't be another year before we get married." you laugh and Altar lets out a comforting rumble of a noise.

"With the I love you's said I doubt you'll be able to wait that long." he pats your knee. "Once you find that someone it is hard to want to wait to have them all to yourself."

"And you do like him? You approve?"

"You have my complete support. I dare say he reminds me of a younger me. Perhaps more violent, but the world today calls for such things for people like us. He doesn't keep his life secret from you as I can see, and with you being just as ruthless I see no reason you couldn't make this work. With your sharp minds and fierce fists, you would make some fearsome children." he chuckles.

"Oh my, they would be hellions." you laugh.

"And you would deserve every bit of the pain and joy that is raising a child for what I put up with, with you." he teases.

"I hate to say that I entirely agree." ---------------------------

Alfie is alone in the library, looking through old religious texts, thoroughly impressed with the collection Altar kept in the room of ceiling-high bookshelves. He places the book back and walks over the large window in the light colored room. The sun has set and left lovely deep tones across the sky. He thinks about you and what it is you two are talking about in the other room. His natural curiosity wants to try to eavesdrop but he won't be disrespectful in the house of a Lafitte. Although he had checked all the drawers in the room and found them to be locked. Old habits die hard.

It dawns on him, the magnitude of the situation he finds himself in. In the house of Altar Lafitte for starters is not something he ever thought he'd say. He wasn't in his office in the city where he conducted business, he was in his country home, unattended in his library. What a strange place to be, he muses. And even stranger beyond that was his reason for being there. Unknowingly to him, he had somehow managed to meet, befriend, seduce and fall for the niece of a crime kingpin. Altar was a big name in the French Mafia, any Jew in the crime world knew the name, he ran the biggest city in France. He realizes with your level of skill and clear knowledgeable training that he should've assumed you had some sort of background such as this. But the blood of a Lafitte in your veins, a name feared and respected through Europe...he hadn't expected that.

He thumbs his nose, eyes unfocused and posture slack as he gets lost in his thoughts. He's mulling over how confusingly perfect you are for him. Neither of you was without your faults, and he didn't have the illusion that you were indeed without any flaws, same as him. But the way your paths aligned, the roads that led you both to the point where they intersected seemed to be rather fateful. He looks up at the moon, his lips in a tight line, wondering if anyone could hear his musing of cosmic interference in his life. He wasn't entirely unimportant, but he was just a man, after all. Why would he be given a blessing like you? A fucking sodomite and murderer given the chance to know love like this. You were the only wholesome and pure thing in his life, and every time he thought about it he felt fearful of losing you. A beautiful flower had no business rooting and blooming in the bog that was his life. His chest aches at the thought of losing you, it throbs with how much love it holds for you. He felt so full it traveled up to his brain and made me feel rather thick at times. As if you'd grown like a fungus and overtaken his common sense. What else would explain his musings of you being his b'sheret?

He lets out a heavy sigh. His sweet Chanah. His crime heiress, self-made woman, gangster queen. He was hopeless, wasn't he? And how could he not be for a woman that felt tailor-made for him. You cracked him open and left him raw in a way he hadn't felt since the war. Before it was the only thing that had scared him, but now a man, certain in himself and his life, he felt fear again and you were the source. Before you he was a singular person, he had only to worry about himself ultimately, but now he was given a whole other human to take into consideration. Someone just as complex as he. He found himself more worried about losing you than losing himself now, and that honestly put a bit of fear into him as it was the first time in his life he'd felt such a strong urge, a pull to rely on another person in such a way. You made him feel like a child, like he wasn't in control of himself or what he did, following your skirt because he loved you and for no other reason. And if there were, no other reasons mattered. He plans to tell you these things, and soon. He notices the stars clear and bright, twinkling with enthusiasm for the full moon in the sky. Perhaps tonight, he thinks, his bottom lip pushed up in consideration under his mustache. He was certain he loved you, and such feelings deserved to be acted upon and shared when they involved someone else. You certainly deserved the honesty from him. If you spoke of weddings and babies with boldness, there was no need to fear saying the words that should've come first the whole time. It was time to finally brush away that last bit of you that held on in fear of love. He wanted to prove to you and himself that there was no reason for you to be afraid if you were both in this together.

He hears the door crack open, your wide blinking eyes meeting his as your head peeps into the room. "He's finished interrogating me." you giggle. "You wanted to speak with him, darling?" you ask with such a warm smile he practically floats to it to simply be in its presence.

"I did." he says with a nod, pulling you into the room by the wrist. "Are you ready to leave? Or would you like to stay?" he asks quietly, hand brushing your hair out of your face.

"I'd love to go back to the apartment and spend the night with my handsome man." you coo with a playful smile.

"Just so happens I would love nothing more than to accommodate that wish." he chuckles, leaning in to give you a brief kiss. "Is he in the dining room still?"

"No, his study, it's two doors past the dining room. He's in there waiting."

"Let's not keep the legend waiting then, eh?" he smiles.

"Would you like me to accompany you?"

"No, thank you love, I wanted to conclude the visit with an invitation for business in the future, you go ready that young pup to take us back, eh?"

"I'll tell him, I'll wait in the parlour." you say sweetly, holding his hand until the distance growing between the two of you separates you as he walks down the hall.

"'Ello." Alfie says, entering the room and clearing his throat.

"Bonjour." Altar says happily. "You did say you wanted to speak again, yes? Or is my mind farther gone than I know?" he chuckles.

"Absolutely not, steel trap that, mate." he grins.

"And what can I help you with Alfie?" he says, hands coming together in front of him in the large chair by the fire.

Alfie sits next to him on a matching chair, angled towards each other and Altar hears him swallow and holds back a smile.

"I was wondering if you had a moment to talk about Genevieve?" he forces the words out.

"Always. Anything for my Lily. Is something the matter?"

"Oh no, no." he shakes his head. "For once, the opposite." he gives a closed mouth smile.

"Lovely then." Altar sits back and waits, giving the man a minute. He wasn't into betting but at that moment he would have on what words would come out of his niece's love's mouth next.

"I wanted to speak with you about...making Genevieve my wife." ----------------------------- You stroll happily to the phone room, having told Benji to ready the car already. You call up your apartment and are met with a cheerful voice.

"Bonjour!"

"Bonjour, Yoni. It's Genevieve of course, Alfie and I are to be leaving Altar's country estate soon and I had a few requests. Should have time to accommodate them before we get there."

"Yes, madam, how may I help?"

"I'd like you to make a few...romantic adjustments to the apartment please."

"Romantic?" she giggles.

"I figure why let the boys do all the romancing, I want to make a statement tonight." you say with your back straight and a hopeful smile on your face.

---------

You anxiously await Alfie by the front door, your hands clasped and picking at your nails as you stare up into the night sky and fantasize about what you might do or say. Everything felt rather jumbled in your head but, you hoped your heart would help you make sense of it when the time came. You're in the middle of pondering playing him something, as you hadn't before and thought perhaps showing him a bit of yourself he hadn't seen yet might be a good gesture of romance. Then he appears from the hallway, your Uncle surprisingly behind him, a hand on his back.

"Did we play well boys?" you ask with a bright smile.

"Certainly did." Altar answers with a smile that looks similar to yours. "Good man you've chosen here, my sweet bubbeleh."

"I like to think so." you chuckle as he walks towards you and takes your hand and raises it to his lips.

"If it weren't for your influence on her, I wouldn't have such a Aishet Chayil (woman of valor) to call my own."

"Alfie." you say blushing, and wrinkling your nose.

"It is only the truth, my oytser (love of my life)." he coos at you and you feel the heat flush your chest as you let out a small giggle of surprise at the affection in front of your uncle.

You bat your eyes in surprise and look away as his lips press against your knuckles. "Who do I thank for this doting man you've sent back to me, Uncle?" you chuckle.

"Only yourself, Lily." he says as watches the look on your eyes as Alfie leans in to gently kiss your cheek. Altar can not only see the love on your face for this man, but he can feel it as he hears sighs and giggles he's never heard before from you in all your years of life. He felt confident in his discussion with Solomons that the feelings of adoration between the two of you were mutual. He was looking forward to having a firm grip on London after the two of you were married. It would, of course, be his little Lily that brings his personal life such joy now, and bringing together both opening and closing to a chapter in his business life with a new alliance in London with his future nephew-in-law.

@fangirlfreakingout @jaegeeeeer @cosettewinchester @lookuptheskyisfalling-blog @brianaisasongbird @cry5t4l-w4rri0r @iliveonchocolateandnetflix @jess2464 @hardygal69 @thegarrisonpublichouse @a-flock-of-angry-pigeons @pootle @negansdirtygirl22 @musingsby-night @wtf-is-wrong-with-this @shine-dont-shadow @inkinterrupted @vale0413 @lafayettes-baguettes-1 @sxlomons @aphnxrising @emerald-bijou @elaenom @give-jack-a-lightsaber @anrm1 @ultrablackwidower @tinastarkandco @arrowswithwifi

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whileiamdying · 2 years ago

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“A Man of Integrity,” Reviewed: A Dire Diagnosis for Iranian Society

Mohammad Rasoulof finds a furious style for his bravely confrontational drama of pervasive corruption.

By Richard Brody June 14, 2022

Reza Akhlaghirad in a scene from “A Man of Integrity,” directed by Mohammad Rasoulof.Photograph from Lifestyle Pictures / Alamy

In the middle of the Iranian director Mohammad Rasoulof’s drama “A Man of Integrity” (completed in 2017, opening here this Friday), the title character meets a friend in Tehran, a woman whose work as a translator faces severe government restrictions. Her husband, a teacher and writer, is a political prisoner who’s at risk of a six-year sentence for his writings. The couple is oppressed in ways that evoke Rasoulof’s situation: since 2010, he has repeatedly been arrested, and endures the ongoing threat of prison sentences for his work and an official ban on making films. Denunciation of an oppressive regime is a virtue but not an intrinsically artistic one; Rasoulof creates a form—nearly an anti-style—of stark confrontation that gives an aesthetic identity to his righteous and dangerous candor.

Rasoulof’s 2020 film “There Is No Evil” exposed the horror of capital punishment in Iran as a moral crisis at the personal level. “A Man of Integrity” is a drama of kleptocratic corruption, and it depicts Iran as a virtual gangster state in which the impunity that starts at the top pervades the entire establishment of business, religion, and government. This corruption damages personal relationships and distorts the world view and the inner identities of the country’s citizens. The palm grease and petty trafficking of daily life in Iran is thrust into the foreground, as if in an X-ray of the innards of society—a cold, curt, and clinical manner in which Rasoulof contains and conveys his rage.

This protagonist, Reza (Reza Akhlaghirad), is about thirty. He had been expelled from college, then imprisoned for a comedically minor and private workplace protest; then he fled to a small town, where he now owns a fish farm. His wife, Hadis (Soudabeh Beizaee), is the principal of a girls’ school, and they have a young son, Sahand, who’s bright and spunky. The farm is heavily mortgaged, and the business is unsteady. A friend at the local bank suggests himself as the middleman for a scheme in which Reza could bribe the management to get his late-payment penalties reduced. Reza wants nothing to do with such sleazy business, although he is no dogmatic law-abider but simply follows his conscience; he secretly produces homemade liqueur, alcohol being illegal in Iran. When two officers of the so-called religious police enter and scour his home for alcohol, their presence strikes a paranoid tone in which the intrusive norms of law enforcement overlap with the menaces of surveillance, denunciation, and harassment.

The town is dominated by a tentacular organization, ominously called only the Company, that wants to take over Reza’s land. To do so, one of its agents shuts off the water, threatening Reza’s fish. When Reza turns the water back on, he’s beaten by an agent named Abbas. When Reza fights back, he’s arrested on false charges of breaking Abbas’s arm—a police doctor is bribed to corroborate the injury. For Reza to get his case heard requires a bribe, too; then, his water is poisoned and his fish are killed, but the insurance company dictates a scheme of bribes for Reza to file a claim. When he tries to file a complaint with the local government, it refuses to challenge the Company. A lawyer won’t file a suit on his behalf. Even Reza’s efforts to sell his land to the Company in order to pay his debts collapse in the face of official corruption. Meanwhile, the family suffers grievously. Sahand confronts false accusations at school. Reza is threatened with violence from the Company’s henchmen. Hadis attempts to take matters into her own hands, with disastrous results, as she uncovers monstrous secrets. The couple’s relationship begins to fray. Facing a Kafkaesque nightmare of closed doors, dead ends, and looming menace, Reza commits himself to a ruthless plan that launches the movie into the hectic extremes of a thriller.

The plot of “A Man of Integrity” reflects elements of “Chinatown” and Heinrich von Kleist’s 1810 novella “Michael Kohlhaas”: the former’s private and public manipulation of water resources for corrupt ends, both works’ view of grotesque patriarchal crimes committed by the protected class of oppressors, and of crime itself as the sole recourse in a hermetic system of self-dealing rule. Rasoulof is a blankly diagnostic realist whose furious vision coaxes natural symbols from the action, as in the existential blankness of the fat white envelopes slid across tabletops as the markers of power, or in the ubiquity of water itself, as a source of life and a livelihood, as a desperate aspiration to cleanse body and soul of filthy civic dealings—or as a fetid swamp of death and decay. Even a hot spring in a cave, Reza’s nearly metaphysical hideaway for consolation and contemplation, must become a hideout for concocting cold-blooded machinations. (Akhlaghirad’s performance catches Reza’s deepening despair as the actor’s gaze freezes and his dark eyes seem to sink into their sockets.)

In Rasoulof’s film, the mercenary corruption that despoils intimate life and social relations finds its core in religious authority, in which a student can be expelled from school or a corpse expelled from a cemetery for not being of the right religion, and political rule cloaks itself in an indisputable higher law. Rasoulof’s realism is radical in the literal sense: he exposes the root of Iranian society and reveals its founding premise to be the all-pervasive source of injustice and corruption. “A Man of Integrity” is both a work of political defiance and of artistic audacity. The movie’s extreme contrast between the bland surfaces of daily life and the maddening pressures of ambient power looming beneath them turns its starkly realistic images into calmly furious denunciations, journalistic revelations, and even wildly disorienting hallucinations. ♦

#The New Yorker #Richard Brody #Iran #Cinema #Reza Akhlaghirad #A Man of Integrity #Mohammad Rasoulof #لِرد

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wazafam · 4 years ago

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It’s now been close to eight years since the internet blew up after the finale of Breaking Bad, and in that time there has been a spin-off and even a follow-up Netflix original movie. The writers have gotten tons of mileage out of these characters, and rightly so, as they all have so much depth.

RELATED: Breaking Bad: 10 Times Someone Was Killed In Broad Daylight

Even the characters who have only appeared in a couple of episodes are memorable, and that’s in part thanks to the actors who portray them. However, just as the show would look a lot different if it was made in the UK, a Hollywood movie of the award-winning TV show could be just as exciting as the series.

10 Gomez - Michael Peña

It’d be easy to mistake Michael Peña for being a comedy actor because he's most famous for his hilarious performance as Luis in the Ant-Man. However, that’s just a bonus, as his performances in the Academy Award-winning Crash and the cop drama End of Watch have shown how capable he is as a dramatic actor. The role of Gomez (Steven Michael Quezada), Hank’s partner, would be perfect for Peña, as Gomez perfectly strikes that balance between dramatic and comedic.

9 Mike - Robert De Niro

Robert De Niro has played a mobster countless times. In fact, his character in The Irishman, a former hitman who regretfully looks back on the mistakes of his life now he’s lost his entire family, has a very similar arc to Mike. And though the roles are so similar, as Mike is one of the most loyal characters of the series, just like Frank Sheeran is to Jimmy Hoffa. De Niro could make the role his own more than anybody.

8 Saul Goodman - Eddie Murphy

What Bob Odenkirk did with Saul Goodman was unbelievable, as he became the MVP of the whole show and even stole the scene from Bryan Cranston at some points. A character that seemed more from the world of Malcolm in the Middle when he first appeared evolved into the most three-dimensional character in the series.

RELATED: 10 Questionable Parenting Choices In Breaking Bad

And there are few actors who can blur the lines between outright comedy and drama, but given his triumphant return in Dolemite Is My Name, Eddie Murphy would give an incredible portrayal of the criminal lawyer. And though Breaking Bad had the perfect ending, it was followed by Better Call Saul, and if that was a movie, Murphy would kill it.

7 Marie - Stephanie Kurtzuba

Being another star of The Irishman, Stephanie Kurtzuba has had a lot of success with Martin Scorsese, as she also starred in The Wolf of Wall Street as Kimmie Belzer. And everything the actress has been in between those two movies has proven how much of a slept-on actress she is in Hollywood.

Kurtzuba has shown that she has the emotional chops, and given how hilarious Marie (Betsy Brandt) can be in the show, whether it’s being overprotective of Hank or criticizing him for collecting minerals, Kurtzuba can capture that perfectly.

6 Todd - Ansel Elgort

Despite being a star and having leading roles in movies like Baby Driver, Divergent, and The Fault in Our Stars, audiences still haven’t seen too much of a range from Ansel Elgort.

However, his past roles have been largely subdued, as the characters he plays don’t generally like to show their emotions, which is similar to the psychopath Todd (Jesse Plemons.) And given that Elgort is leading the Steven Spielberg remake of West Side Story, a movie where the failure or success is based almost purely on the performances, it’s likely that the young actor can pull anything off.

5 Gustavo Fring - Don Cheadle

Being the owner of Los Pollos Hermanos, the fast-food joint fronting for a crystal meth empire, Gustavo Fring was brought to terrifying life by Giancarlo Esposito. Esposito is a hugely influential presence in everything he's in, though Fring is arguably his best character.

Don Cheadle could make the character just as iconic on the big screen, and though he doesn’t generally get much screentime as War Machine in the MCU, he is an Academy Award-nominated actor for his role in Hotel Rwanda. Cheadle finally gets to be a bad guy in the upcoming Space Jam sequel, but as of now, audiences haven't seen him in a truly antagonistic role.

4 Hank - Laurence Fishburne

Laurance Fishburne can play absolutely anybody. He has gone from playing a child in the Vietnam War in Apocalypse Now, an evil gangster in King of New York, and the leader of an uprising against machines in The Matrix.

RELATED: Breaking Bad: The 10 Most Tragic Things About Jesse Pinkman

And though the talented actor settled into his role of Dr. Raymond Langston in CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, he has never fully fleshed out a detective-type role on the big screen. And considering how Hank (Dean Norris) has the most intense scenes in the show, Fishburne would ace it, as he has such a commanding presence, just like Norris.

3 Skyler - Amy Adams

Skyler (Anna Gunn) got a bad rep among fans of the show, despite her husband committing much more heinous actions than she could even dream of.

But if there’s any actress who could win fans over to her side, it’s Amy Adams. Whether it’s in The Master or American Hustle, Adams has some kind of gravitational pull when it comes to the audience. And even in her movies that aren’t as beloved, such as Man of Steel, she's always a strength.

2 Jesse - Evan Peters

Whether or not audiences will ever see Evan Peters as Quicksilver again is up in the air, and though the actor’s filmography would be a little light if it wasn’t for the X-Men movies and American Horror Story, the actor has shown how much fun he can have in character.

Aaron Paul pulled off Jesse so well by giving off that charming, comic relief vibe, as he put so much effort into every variation of yelling “b**ch.” Peters could capture that same energy that Paul perfected in the series.

1 Walter - Brad Pitt

On the face of it, it might be a little jarring to imagine Brad Pitt as a struggling high-school teacher, but he has actually played average joes before, most recently in The Big Short and Moneyball. And though even to this day he’s in great shape, it’s easy to forget how old the actor is. He could master the role of a down-on-his-luck teacher turning 50. And at the same time, Pitt can play an evil, demanding, selfish antagonist too, just like Heisenberg.

NEXT: Breaking Bad: 10 Scenes That Live Rent-Free In Every Fan's Head

Casting Breaking Bad If It Was A Hollywood Movie Today from https://ift.tt/3t7QJYZ

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tilbageidanmark · 2 years ago

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Movies I watched this Week - #84

Huell Babineaux X 2:

🍿“Many people are saying” that Better Call Saul is a better show than “Breaking Bad’. I loved BB, which I saw 2-3 times already, and I waited until Saul is done to start watching it. So this week I started bingeing, and in one swoop go, watched the first 4 seasons (40 out of 64 episodes).

Maybe because it’s too much for one seating, I did not find it as compelling as advertised. Jimmy’s arc from a fast-talking conman to a sleazy corner-cutting ‘criminal’ lawyer was uninteresting, and his relationships to his brother Chuck and to his lover Kim Wexler felt flat for me. At his core all he was was a bullshit artist salesman. Walter White, the cancer-stricken chemistry teacher who was looking for a way to pay his medical bills was much more real. But like the name of S3E3, I had already committed significant ‘Sunk Costs’ so I kept on going on.

There were many good moments there, f. ex. the opening scene of “Fifi” (S2 E8) done in a single shot.

I may come back to seasons 5 and 6 soon or later. (Photo Above).

🍿 Comedy for 13-year-olds Mike and Dave Need Wedding Dates, only because of my crush on Anna Kendrick. But it also had Huell, the TSA agent from ‘We’re The Millers’ and naked Kumail Nanjiani as a tantric masseur with a foot-long ponytail.

🍿

The Housemaid (2010), a ‘sexy’ Korean soap opera about a live-in maid who gets impregnated by the very upper-class master of the household. A subtle critique of extreme wealth that doesn’t really work. With Youn Yuh-jung, the grandma from ‘Minari’. 4/10.

🍿

“Make America Great Again”: A Night in the Garden is a bone-chilling short documentary from 2017 about the Nazi rally in New York’s Madison Square Garden.

More than 20,000 people attended the proudly-fascist, pro-"Americanism" rally on February 20, 1939. Swastikas, pro-Hitler demagoguery, the savage beating of a protester and defiant anti-Jewish creed in broad daylight. Just like today.

🍿

Zelig, Woody Allen’s 1983 masterful mockumentary about a “human chameleon”, an ego-less man who needs to be liked so much, that he transforms his physical appearance to conform with his surroundings. A seamless blending of genuine 1920′s newsreel footage with vintage look love story. Fantastic cinematography by Gordon Willis. With terrific cameos by Susan Sontag, Saul Bellow, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and other intellectuals of the time. Re-watch. 9/10 🍿

Another completely random pick that I never heard of beforehand, and for which I’m happy for: The Girl By The Lake (2007). Starring the always excellent Toni Servillo, and based on a Norwegian crime mystery by Karin Fossum. It’s about a stoic police inspector who is called to investigate the disappearance of a little girl in a small but beautiful Alpine town.

Directorial debut of a Andrea Molaioli, it was the Italian movie awarded with the highest number of David di Donatello (10 out of 15 nominations). Molaioli’s framing and edit of soundtrack was fresh and unusual, and the score which seemed arbitrary, added tremendous meaning to the moody images.

Best discovery of the week.

🍿

I also never heard of Jim Abraham’s Jane Austen's Mafia! (1998) before. A light spoof of ‘The Godfather’ (as well as ‘Casino’ and other Scorsese’s gangster sagas), in the exact style of all the other Zucker, Abrahams and Zucker’s slapstick comedies. Lloyd Bridges’s last role in a Leslie Nielsen-type Brando parody. Not 'Airplane!’ level, but with some gags and jokes that work. 4/10.

🍿

Sylvia Sidney X 2:

🍿Sabotage, a 1936 Hitchcock spy story about a woman whose husband is a terrorist. Includes a long, suspenseful plot of a boy carrying a bomb on a public bus and the fact that the innocent boy, Sidney’s brother, dies on the bus explosion together with all the other passengers. Also, she kills her husband and gets away with it. It also includes (and credits) an early Disney Silly Symphony cartoon as part of the story.

🍿“Welcome to Earth..” Her last role in Tim Burton’s bizarre Mars Attack. Also with Tom Jones, Jack Black and Pam Grier. First watch. 3/10. “Ack ack! Ack! Ack ack ack!...”

🍿

George Clooney’s political thriller The Ides of March, with a screenplay by Beau Willimon just before he made 'House of cards’. It's similar to other “Election Campaign Race” for The Nomination, ‘The Candidate’ and ‘Primary colors’, etc. (And it’s always the Democratic nomination, right?), and it’s fast, and well-built. Everybody in the whole film whispers all their lines. Just 10 years later, it seems anachronistic. 7/10.

🍿

RIP, Olivia Newton-John / RIP, Anne Heche -

🍿First watch: High-school musical for high-schoolers Grease. Horny teenagers played by 24-years-old Scientologist John Travolta, 30-year-old Olivia Newton-John, and 33-year-old Stockard Channing as Rizzo. 50's fantasy of white nostalgia, also with Sid Caesar and Frankie Avalon. The dancing numbers were great though, especially ‘You're the One That I Want’.

🍿Birth, my second by Jonathan Glazer (after ‘Under the skin’), and co-written by Jean-Claude Carrière. A one trick, inexplicable and nearly-good story about eternal love. Elegant widow Nicole Kidman is convinced that a 10-year-old neighbor boy is her dead husband. It has 2 beautiful scenes: A concert shot (at 26:00) that holds its gaze on her face for 4 minutes, and the final, sad scene on the beach. Lauren Bacall and Ann Heche play small roles. 4/10.

🍿

Geri's Game, the first Pixar film to feature a human being as its main character, about an old man who competes with himself in a game of chess. Winner of the 1998 Oscar for Best Short.

- - - - -

Throw-back to the art project:

Adora with Huell Babineaux Laying On Top Of $80M Stash.

Mars Attack Adora.

- - - - -

(My complete movie list is here)

#movies

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gywair · 6 years ago

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Hey! I got the honor of being on Historical Hotties. It’s a podcast about researching hot historical figures and ranking them. I was on the episode about crime fighters. Below are my notes and references about Mabel Walker Willebrandt.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mabel_Walker_Willebrandt

http://www.pbs.org/kenburns/prohibition/media_detail/2082505810-willebrandt/

https://themobmuseum.org/notable_names/mabel-willebrandt/

https://www.encyclopedia.com/women/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/willebrandt-mabel-walker-1889-1963

https://www.loc.gov/item/mm82059618/

https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-2000-jul-02-me-47028-story.html

http://www.anb.org/view/10.1093/anb/9780198606697.001.0001/anb-9780198606697-e-0600712

https://books.google.com/books?id=CfGHM9KU7aEC&pg=PA736&lpg=PA736&dq=dorothy+rae+willebrandt&source=bl&ots=Ot1Hr5r5jy&sig=ACfU3U1zTmlS6XVkw1QFXoWtYaMSk5dOWA&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwia_-fX5KLhAhUELa0KHdrfC3gQ6AEwDXoECAkQAQ#v=onepage&q=dorothy%20rae%20willebrandt&f=false

https://themobmuseum.org/blog/mabel-willebrandt-prolific-prosecutor-of-prohibition-laws/

http://articles.latimes.com/2000/jul/02/local/me-47028

https://sallyjling.org/2011/07/16/mabel-walker-willebrant-fascinating-women-of-prohibition/

https://www.britannica.com/biography/Mabel-Walker-Willebrandt

https://books.google.com/books?id=55ctM_Uy6KgC&printsec=frontcover#v=onepage&q&f=false

Mabel Walker Willebrandt

Born May 23rd, 1889

Died April 6th, 1963 at age 73

She was born in Woodsdale, Kansas as Mabel Elizabeth Walker.

Her family were farmers

She spent her early years traveling between prairie towns from Oklahoma to Missouri

Her father David was a local newspaper editor

She used to help him set the type for print

She was expelled from Park College in Parksville (a Presbyterian college), Missouri for being outspoken

She questioned the validity of a “virgin birth”

Reportedly she won the debate

In 1906 she began teaching in Buckley, Michigan

During this time she

Was almost lost in a blizzard

Trapped by a forest fire

Was threatened by a student with a knife

In 1910 she married Arthur Willebrandt, the principal

Together they moved to Phoenix, Arizona while Arthur recovered from tuberculosis

Mabel graduated from Arizona State University in 1911

Around this time she became severely hearing impaired and wore a hearing aid in each ear

She supposedly fixed her hair to hide them.

In 1912, they moved to Los Angeles where Mabel taught school during the day and took law classes at night

In 1916, she graduated from the University of Southern California with a masters in law

While completing her degree, Mabel began pro bono work in local police courts for mostly prostitution cases

She argued 2,000 cases as the city’s first female public defender

Her efforts led to courts permitting testimony from both women and men in these cases

This meant the male clients had to appear in court (in front of the press) as well as the female defenders

She successfully campaigned for the enactment of a revised community property statue at the state level (which involves property rights in marriages)

She was instrumental in getting the police to stop nickelodeon owners from preying on young girls during the “Rosebud Baby Case”

Apparently, the men were taking advantage of young girls during the movies

After graduation, she opened her own practice in downtown Los Angeles with Fred Horowitz (he built the famous hotel Chateau Marmont)

During World War I, she served as head of the Legal Advisory Board for draft cases

John Shepherd, perhaps the only man she really loved, who was killed in World War I.

In 1920, she moved her folks out west to be closer to her

In 1921, at 32, she was recommended by Frank Doherty (her old law professor), Senator Hiram Johnson, and all the judges in Southern California for the position of Assistant Attorney General under President Harding

Making her the highest-ranking women in the US federal government at the time and the first woman to head the Tax Division.

However, part of the issue is that no one wanted the job

It had no political advantage

It was a position that had to enforce unpopular laws

Her duties included overseeing federal taxation, federal prisons, and matters relating to the Volstead Act (the Prohibition Act)

She established the first female federal prison, Alderson federal prison in West Virginia

At the time, female prisons were too full to hold all inmates

If there was not enough space they would be housed with male inmates or otherwise alternatively punished

Sexual exploitation of women in the prison system was very high at the time

The prison was modeled as a boarding school offering classes for work-oriented fields

It had no armed guards or fences

Weirdly, still segregated

Things weren’t all great, however

In her 1929 book, The Inside of Prohibition, she described her problems

The law was too weak to do the job

The man in charge was not up to the task

She was only given volunteers to help make arrests

Things were so bad, one of her early arrests was a group that actually fielded a baseball team called the BOOTLEGGERS

She helped convinced the state department to give her boats and crews to apprehend alcohol coming into the country by boat

Reportedly, she met with the Treasury’s Prohibition unit, the US Coast Guard, and the Customs Service once and weeks later Congress okayed $11 million dollars for speed boats and equipment

She might have been the only person working to enforce prohibition

She said, “At one time it was quite apparent that no real effort was being made to put an end to such open defiance of our laws. Liquor runners operated off Florida practically in the open, in broad daylight, with little or no interference. There for years the prosecuting office and the prohibition agents engaged equally in the game of evasion of responsibility.”

In 1923, she successfully brought down the ‘Big Four of Savannah’

Reportedly the largest bootlegging ring in the US

She brought in George Remus, nicknamed ‘King of the Bootleggers’ and supposedly the inspiration for Jay Gatsby

Mabel came under a lot of trouble at one point for arresting Helen Morgan, a popular singer who had been reportedly duped into running a speakeasy

She regularly made the society magazines as a bit of a villain

She also argued to reform prisons for young offenders

She is credited with starting the prison work programs for male prisons

She started the first record keeping system for federal inmate populations

In 1924, Mabel and her husband Arthur got divorced

They were separated in 1916

Her mother-in-law moved in with Mabel and Arthur but Mabel financially supported the whole family

Reportedly because after putting Arthur through law school, he was unwilling to pay his share of expenses

In 1925, she adopted a two-year-old daughter named Dorothy Rae

Whom she raised with her friends

Feminism, Sexuality, and Politics by Estella B. Freedman

The book mentions that this was a more common practice at the time for career women that wanted a family.

Her parents took over when she was in Washington

Back in Prohibition, however, Mabel prosecuted 48,734 cases between 1924 and 1925, of which resulted in 39,072 convictions

278 cases went to the Supreme Court

She argued 40 of those cases

In 1927, she devised the plan to catch gangsters with tax evasion and in 1931 successfully prosecuted Al Capone

She recommended J. Edgar Hoover to head the FBI

In 1928, she campaigned for Republican candidate Herbert Hoover

To do this, she would address Methodist ministers and slam Hoover’s Democrat opponent, Al Smith as a ‘wet’ candidate

She began timing speakeasy raids to coincide with the Democratic convention

She was recognized as a major force behind getting Hoover elected

She took political help anywhere she could get it including the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union and the Ku Klux Klan saying, “I have no objection to people dressing up in sheets if they enjoy that sort of thing.”

For her service, she expected to be appointed Attorney General but was snubbed

In 1928, she resigned her post and returned to private practice

Mabel’s first case outside of the government was for California Fruit Industries that made wine and went on to serve as a lobbyist for the industry

CFI’s first big product push with her was Vine-Glo

Which was a concentrate that if added to water and sugar and left alone for two months made wine at home

Her casework set the foundation for the basic interpretations of the 16th and 18th amendments

In 1930, Mabel successfully argued for Frederick Albert Cook’s release from prison

He had been falsely imprisoned when several of his business partners committed fraud

Because his lawyer, Joseph Weldon Bailey, had a personal problem with the judge, he lost the case

Mabel managed to get him off his 14-year sentence in 7

Cook claimed to be the first explorer to reach the North Pole

In 1950, she served as counsel to the Screen Directors Guild

She defended the studios during the “Red Scare” and Joe McCarthy

She represented Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer and Aviation Corp. of America

Her famous clients include

Louis B. Mayer

Jean Harlow

Clark Gable

Jeanette MacDonald

She also began defending bootleggers she had helped put away

She went on to pioneer the fields of aviation and radio law

She was the first woman to chair a committee for the American Bar Association for aeronautical law

She got her pilot’s license and promoted air travel with Amelia Earhart and Jacqueline Cochoran (created the Women’s Auxillary Army Corps and Women Airforce Service Pilot organizations and was the first woman to break the sound barrier)

She received an Honorary Doctorate from the Aeronautical Chamber of Commerce

Due to intense criticism of her role in Al Smith losing the presidency, as her rhetoric was seen as anti-Catholic, she converted to Catholicism

Later in life, she worked to destroy many of her personal records (especially from when she was Attorney General)

She, in fact, was overlooked by several early women’s history studies as she purposely erased many of her personal histories

Which is why much of what we know comes from her legal work

Mabel Walker Willebrandt died of lung cancer in Riverside, California

She was survived by her adopted daughter, Dorothy Rae (Van Dyke)

Her lifelong friend, Judge John J. Sirica, was quoted as saying, “If Mabel had worn trousers, she could have been president.”

Nicknames

“First Legal Lady of the Land”

“Prohibition Portia” (which is a joke from Julius Caesar–it’s Brutus’s wife)

“Deborah of the Drys”

“Mrs. Firebrand.”

Fun facts

She owned a farm in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania

Once advised a prostitute she worked for on “going straight”

Mabel looked over her books and said to keep working six more months

Then ended up footing the rest of the bill herself to get the woman and her sons into a nice home

Quotes

“Give me the authority and let me have my pick of 300 men and I’ll make this country as dry as it is humanly possible. There’s one way it can be done – get at the source of supply. I know them and I know how they could be cut off. I have no patience with this policy of going after the hip-pocket and speakeasy cases. That’s like trying to dry up the Atlantic Ocean with a blotter.”

In reference to herself “an instrument of God”

Physical Hawtness: 2/5

Described as Comely

Sort of an Elisabeth Moss

More of the way she carries herself than her looks (substance over style)

Mental Hawtness: 5/5

She started school at age 13

was teaching at age 17

a principal at 22

Assistant Attorney General at 32

Social Impact: 3/5

For her time, she made a huge splash

Lots of firsts

Set a tone for the whole decade of the ‘20s

Je Ne Sais Quoi: 2/5

Problematic

Reformed?

Sounds too unbelievable for a movie

Historical Hotties – Mabel Walker Willebrandt Hey! I got the honor of being on Historical Hotties. It's a podcast about researching hot historical figures and ranking them.

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caveartfair · 7 years ago

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Missing Monet Discovered in Louvre Storage Space—and the 9 Other Biggest News Stories This Week

01 A Claude Monet painting lost during World War II was discovered rolled up in a Louvre storage space.

(via artnet News)

The National Museum of Western Art in Tokyo announced on Monday that Water Lilies: Reflection of Willows (1916) will go on view at the institution after undergoing major conservation efforts. The painting was discovered by a French researcher in 2016; it was heavily damaged after spending six decades in storage at the Louvre, artnet News reported. Japanese collector Kojiro Matsukata had purchased the piece in the 1920s, one of roughly 25 Monet paintings owned by the businessman who had hopes of opening a museum of Western art in Japan. That dream was dashed by a series of catastrophes, including a London fire that destroyed 400 works owned by Matsuka and stored in the city. His collection in Paris, however, remained under the care of an art advisor until being “sequestered” by the French government during World War II, artnet News wrote, and while much of it was returned to Japan in 1959, Water Lilies: Reflection of Willows had been missing for nearly six decades.

02 A £112.7 Million Picasso spending spree buoyed big sales at Christie’s and Sotheby’s in London.

(Artsy)

The 2018 auction season season appeared to begin with a bang as the Impressionist and Modern evening sales at Christie’s came squarely within its estimate and Sotheby’s surpassed its high estimate, thanks to sales of work by that longtime industry stalwart, Pablo Picasso. A portrait of his mistress Marie-Thérèse Walter sold for £49.8 million ($69.2 million) at Sotheby’s on Wednesday, making it the most expensive painting and the second-most expensive artwork ever sold in Europe. The 1937 painting Femme au béret et à la robe quadrillée (Marie-Thérèse Walter) was purchased by a client on the phone with Lord Mark Poltimore, deputy chairman of Europe for Sotheby’s. According to industry newsletter the Baer Faxt and Bloomberg, the client on the phone was the London advisory outfit Gurr Johns, whose executive chairman Harry Smith had already calmly snapped up nine Picassos at Christie’s on Tuesday and finished Wednesday with three more on top of the portrait of Marie-Thérèse, a total of 13 works in two days for a combined £112.7 million ($155.2 million). It is unclear why the advisor was snapping up so many canvases by Picasso—Gurr Johns did not respond to emails and calls—but Smith was bidding on every single one. There was more good news for Sotheby’s this week when the auction house reported better-than-expected earnings in the fourth quarter and strong full-year profits thanks to higher auction sales, robust private dealmaking, and a growing presence in Asia.

03 The Richard Avedon Foundation claims an unauthorized biography of the photographer includes hundreds of factual errors.

(via The Art Newspaper)

On Wednesday, a banner appeared at the top of the Richard Avedon Foundation’s website: “Foundation pushes Spiegel and Grau to immediately cease publication and correct the record; publisher says facts don’t matter.” The text refers to Something Personal, an unauthorized biography published by a Penguin Random House imprint, Spiegel and Grau, last year. The account of Avedon’s life—described as “part memoir, part biography and part oral history” by the book’s dust jacket—was penned by the photographer’s former studio director Norma Stevens and long-term book publisher and editor, Steven M. L. Aronson. But the Foundation is arguing that, despite Stevens’s close relationship with the artist, just one-third of the account contains about 200 factual errors. Some major points of contention are whether or not Avedon shared an intimate relationship with Marilyn Monroe, and if Avedon himself made an unsolicited call to the Smithsonian museum to offer a donation of his prints and negatives. While the Foundation’s list of errors is likely to grow with the help of an online correction submission system built into the site, the publisher’s lawyer, Matthew Martin, recently told The Art Newspaper that disagreements have emerged due to Avedon being “well known for embellishing stories or simply fabricating,” and that the Foundation has “no evidence” to back their accusations.

04 A mobster suspected of having ties to the notorious Gardner heist will serve 11 months on gun charges.

(via The Hartford Courant)

Robert “The Cook” Gentile, an 81-year-old Mafia gangster, was sentenced Tuesday to a 54-month sentence for gun charges, of which he has already served around 35 months while awaiting sentencing. Since 2010, Gentile has been suspected of involvement with the 1990 heist in which two thieves, disguised as police officers, made off with 13 paintings from the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston. According to the Courant, “When the FBI searched Gentile’s house in 2012—the first of four searches—agents found police hats, badges, $20,000 in cash stuffed in a grandfather clock, what a judge called ‘a veritable arsenal’ of weaponry and, significantly, a list of the stolen Gardner pieces accompanied by possible black market prices.” Two years prior, the widow of one of his mob partners had told FBI agents she witnessed her husband give Gentile two of the stolen paintings roughly a decade prior. Gentile told the Courant he did not have any art, “but probably obtained the list in connection with a plan to swindle someone who was trying to buy it.”

05 Malaysian artist Fahmi Reza was sentenced to one month in prison for his political cartoons of the country’s prime minister.

(via Artforum)

41-year-old Fahmi, a political cartoonist, is known for portraying Malaysian prime minister Najib Razak as a ghostly clown with arched eyebrows and scarlet lips. Najib, who faces a general election this summer, remains tainted by a 2015 scandal over siphoning millions from Malaysian investment funds. This week, a court in the northern city of Ipoh sentenced Fahmi to one month in prison and demanded $7,700 in fines for his cartoons of the embattled prime minister, who is still expected to win the upcoming election. On Twitter, the artist wrote that his portraits are an “act of protest against this corrupt government that uses the Sedition Act and other draconian laws to silence dissenting voices.” The Sedition Act, a law enacted in Malaysia by British colonial administrators in 1948, prohibits any publication, action, or language displaying disapproval of the government. While Fahmi was able to raise funds to cover the entire amount of his fine, the artist’s lawyer, Syahredzan Johan, says they plan to appeal.

06 The 2017 NBA champions, the Golden State Warriors, toured the National Museum of African American History and Culture on their trip to Washington, D.C.

(via The Washington Post)

The Warriors had been disinvited by U.S. President Donald Trump from visiting the White House, a customary honor for a championship team, after their star Stephen Curry said he wasn’t interested in going. Instead, the team went to the city’s National Museum of African American History and Culture, part of the Smithsonian Institution, with a group of kids from Prince George’s County, where fellow Warriors star Kevin Durant grew up. Durant told the Washington Post he was thrilled to be able to provide the opportunity for those young people to hang out with him and his teammates. “To be able to provide them that type of experience, it’s going to do a lot for those kids,” Durant said, crediting his teammates and the team’s general manager for having the idea. Durant said he found inspiration in the museum’s displays, and is looking forward to returning on his own. “It was just impactful. There was so much that you hear and I learned in elementary school, and through school, but just some of the photos…my mom, my parents, they wouldn’t let me see as a kid,” he said. “Some of the stuff you probably had to wait until you were older to see. It was good to get that history.”

07 The Mauritshuis Royal Picture Gallery in The Hague is using advanced new technology to uncover the secrets of Vermeer’s Girl With a Pearl Earring.

(via The New York Times)

Johannes Vermeer’s 1665 painting, which has been on view at the museum since 1881, will come off the wall and out of its frame for the first time in decades, as a team of researchers from conservation institutes and universities use advanced X-ray and optics technology to analyze the masterpiece down to each coat of paint. Experts will create computer visualizations and dive deep into the pigments’ minerals to better understand how Vermeer created the glowing hues of the woman in a turban, without having to physically touch the work. To appease the tens of thousands of visitors who come to the museum to see Vermeer’s painting, the project will take place not in a restoration studio but in the museum, where attendees can see it being studied through a glass partition. And the whole thing will wrap-up quickly to get the famous work back on the wall; as paintings conservator Abbie Vandivere told the New York Times, “We’ll see how much information we can gain with the technology at our disposal in a very short period of time—two weeks, working 24 hours a day, day and night.”

08 The National Gallery of Victoria has terminated its relationship with Wilson Security following criticism of the security contractor.

(via The Guardian)

Wilson Security has come under fire for allegations that its employees repeatedly breached ethical standards at several Australian offshore detention facilities where the firm operates, including those located on Manus Island in Papua New Guinea and Nauru. Following public reports that guards subjected asylum seekers and detainees to sexual, physical, and mental violence, a group of artists formed The Artists’ Committee to protest the National Gallery of Victoria (NGV)’s employment of Wilson Security. The Artists’ Committee’s actions have ranged from placing a veil branded with Wilson’s logo over Pablo Picasso’s Weeping Woman (1937), which is held at the museum, to dyeing the gallery’s moat and “water wall” blood red. Last August, 1,500 people from the arts community signed an open letter calling for the gallery to cease its contract with Wilson Security. On Wednesday, the NGV released a statement with no mention of the protests or petition. However, it stated that Wilson Security was “the NGV’s interim security service provider while we were in a Victorian government procurement process to secure a long-term security services provider,” and that “we have commenced the short transition to our new provider.” The NGV’s new contractor has not been publicly announced.

09 A New York judge appointed a new executor for the estate of Chinese artist and collector C.C. Wang.

(via ARTnews)

The new executor will be the artist’s daughter Yien-Koo Wang King, who succeeds the artist’s grandson Andrew Wang. Andrew stands accused of stealing over 20 paintings and has been linked to the “suspicious dealings in the sale of nearly 100 works,” ARTnews reported on Tuesday. An earlier trial had found that Andrew had manipulated C.C., who suffered dementia towards the end of his life, into making Andrew and his father the executors of an estate once valued at $60 million before C.C.’s death in 2003. C.C. was a collector of Chinese art as well as an artist, and ARTnews reported that “The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York acquired various works from Wang over the years and went on to stage a 1999 exhibition of objects from his collection.” The judgment from the Manhattan Surrogate Court came earlier this month.

10 A member of the mafia has claimed that a stolen Caravaggio painting was sent to Switzerland.

(via The Art Newspaper)

While testifying to the Italian parliament’s standing commission on organized crime, mafia member Gaetano Grado claimed that a missing Caravaggio painting, Nativity with St. Francis and St. Lawrence (1600), was handed off to a Swiss art dealer after it was stolen in 1969. The theft of the painting from a Baroque chapel in Palermo, Sicily, has remained on the FBI’s list of top 10 art crimes. Grado said that the original thieves were petty criminals, but after the uproar following its disappearance, the mafia realized the painting’s worth, and it was handed over to the head of the Sicilian Mafia Commission, Gaetano Badalamenti. Badalamenti sold the work to an art dealer from Switzerland and, Grado claims, decided to cut the painting into pieces in order to transport it. This is not the first time a wild claim has been made about what the mafia did with the painting––according to TheArt Newspaper, previous mafia members have alleged that the painting was “stored in a stable and eaten by mice,” and even “used as a bedside carpet by a mafia boss.” The name of the Swiss dealer has not been released, but the head of the government commission on organized crime, Rosy Bindi, is following the lead and hoping for international cooperation.

from Artsy News

#Artsy News

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