#i want Lorne to take care of Tommy

[peppermintquartz]

Just-out-of-army Tommy is on his way home going down a street on Halloween when he sees a bunch of people in monster makeup going into a bar named Caritas.

He ventures down a flight of steps to get inside and wow, that's a lot of people in full monster makeup but there are regular people too, there's karaoke and right now there's someone who is green with red horns singing beautifully on stage.

He can feel the voice from the top of his skull right down to his toes.

The singer finishes and bows to the applause, saying, "Alrighty, mic is all warmed up, please come up for a song and then pop by the bar if you wanna chat."

As the singer walks over, he spies Tommy lurking near the entryway. "Well hello, tall dark and handsome. Come over. First timer gets a discount at the bar."

"Oh, uh, how didja know I'm new?"

The singer raises an eyebrow. "Timo, peach Bellini."

"Oh, no, thanks, I'm more of a beer guy."

"That's for me, sugar crumb. We have a nice selection of craft beers. Light, dark?"

"Oh, thank you. Light, please." Tommy peers closely. "Wow, your makeup person is amazing. The prosthetics and the body paint must take hours. And do those contact lenses hurt?"

The singer grins, showing very white teeth. "Not as much as you might think."

"Here, boss. And this is yours, pretty boy."

"Timo, be nice," the singer chides. "Oh, right. I forgot to introduce myself. My name's Lorne and I'm the owner of this joint. Come by anytime to sing, cupcake, and bare your soul. I do psychic readings also. Very accurate, if I do say so myself."

Lorne's attention is pulled away by someone wearing dark brown feathery wings. Left to his own devices, Tommy takes a seat at the bar and people watch, occasionally humming a line or two.

He's singing under his breath to Jolene when Lorne returns to him after doing a circuit around the room, Bellini already half empty.

"Sing for me again, mon crème brulée."

A little embarrassed, Tommy sings the few lines.

Lorne sighs and pats Tommy's arm. And then he seems to get a bit distracted, squeezing the muscle slightly. "Ooh, big and strong. I am weak for your type. Not hitting on you, by the way. I just enjoy the general vibe of beefy guys."

"Uh... thanks?"

"Being a firefighter is a good choice, but be aware that you have some moral choices to make in difficult situations," Lorne says, leaning against the bar. "However, it will be worth it. You're not a man meant for the shadows, Tommy."

Tommy feels like shrinking into himself. "I... I don't know about that."

"Now now, none of that." Lorne pats Tommy's cheek. He sighs and raises his eyebrows. "Poor kid. I know it's not easy to be yourself. And it will take a lot of courage and self-acceptance before you stop flinching from the light. I can't give you any of that. But if you ever feel like you can't bear it anymore, come here. I guaran-damn-tee you that you can be a hundred percent who you are here." He winks at Tommy. "Because I'll know."

"Um, thanks?" Tommy wishes he is half as confident as Lorne seems to be, but he doesn't know how to even start. "I... I'd probably need a lot of help."

"That's true. For you, however, drop by anytime. I live above the bar and I will always make time for a classic Hollywood hunk of handsome." Lorne finishes his Bellini and presses a kiss to Tommy's cheek. "Alright. Let's get ready for Uncle Lorne's second set."

[nellie-elizabeth]

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend: I'm Making Up for Lost Time (4x04)

This is probably the weakest installment of the season so far, but with Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, even the lesser episodes are still miles ahead of most of what you see on network TV. Let's dive in!

Cons:

I found Nathaniel's attempts to get Rebecca back to be kind of lackluster and stupid. He steals Rebecca's diary and makes a grand speech that he steals from it, and Rebecca is understandably unimpressed. I think one of the things this season is going to focus on, when it comes to Nathaniel, is that he has some personal growth he needs to take care of as well. I get that, and yet at the same time I'm feeling myself less than interested in watching him mess stuff up so badly. I guess I'm just wishing for more with him. I want him and Rebecca to be together, selfishly, but more than that, I just want them both to be okay, as separate human beings.

I feel a little cheated in the song department, because little Tucker is the only one who gets a song. The second "song" of the episode is a reprise of "One Indescribable Instant," which is well performed, again by Tucker, but not a fun new number to bop along with. Hopefully there are two full numbers in next week's installment!

Pros:

Okay. Tucker is great. And he's great because he's so much like Rebecca. The two spend most of the episode finding all of these things they have in common, but then it turns out that this was all just stuff that Tucker stole from Rebecca's diary. The twist of the situation, however, is that this just means they really do have a lot in common. Namely, Tucker shows up to manipulate and lie to Rebecca to get what he secretly wants. In a way, this reminds me of Trent - another character shows up and does horrible things, and this helps Rebecca, and the audience, realize that Rebecca's own past behavior has been pretty awful.

But the difference is... Tucker is a kid. He manipulates Rebecca, and when he gets caught in the end he berates himself for being such a stupid, dumb, fat loser. Rebecca at first things Tucker is just copying her diary again, but then realizes that this is really how Tucker feels. The similarities are uncanny, but this time around, Rebecca is an adult with a good(ish) head on her shoulders, and she has some power to help Tucker. By the episode's end, she's gotten his mother to agree to send him to a therapist, and her father to agree to send him to theatre camp instead of making him work construction during the summer. Rebecca doesn't resent that she didn't have these things, but she wants to help out a kid who is going through the same kind of rough stuff that she remembers from her own childhood. Talk about progress!

The kid playing Tucker was absolutely great. His vocals were on point, and his manipulations of Rebecca were just the right mix of sinister and sympathetic. Obviously his behavior is inexcusable, just like Rebecca's has been at so often in the past. But at the same time, when the episode ends and Tucker breaks down, I believe in his pain and his confusion and his fear. It's heartbreaking to see so many of the traits Rebecca exhibited as a child and as an adult, present in someone else. But if it's not too late for Rebecca to make a change, then it's definitely not too late for Tucker either.

On the Nathaniel front, while I was annoyed at his meddling in this episode, I do want to say that performance-wise, his poor, sad, love-lorn eyes are really tearing me up inside. He's so in love with Rebecca that it hurts. I hope that even if they don't find their way back to each other, Nathaniel finds peace and happiness!

In subplot news, Paula does an escape room with her two sons, and learns that they're actually in to Renaissance Faires and aren't totally stupid, pointless lumps. Paula realizes that her kids are strangers to her, but by the end of the episode, they've all had fun in the escape room together!

In a normal sitcom, I feel like this would be a one-episode thing. Paula realizes something bad, and then by the end of the episode the problem is solved. But we've seen hints of this in the past, of Paula's son's being ignored by their mother, of Paula realizing that she's actually not a very good mom. This episode brought that to the forefront in a very real way, and I'll bet we're going to see how this plays out in the coming weeks. I've always thought Brandon and Tommy were pretty funny, so I'm glad to see them here. Although I still miss their dad! Looks like we might see him next week.

Okay. That's what I've got for this one. I thought this was a great episode for many reasons, but ultimately the final product was just slightly underwhelming. I mean, in comparison to most episodes of this show. But with an eighteen-episode order for this final season, I think it's okay if the pace is a little slow at some points, and I have every faith that this season has some really great stuff in store for us!

8/10

[whitebread-brownbread]

Dolus Specialis [Michael Gray]

Word Meaning: Special Intent

Summary: How do you know if you’re in love?

Words: 2,909

Warning: Mention of sex, abortion and drug use.

Michael Gray had first appeared in your life the day he rolled into Birmingham from the posh little village he had been raised in. Granted, you knew that he had gotten his life's start in Birmingham, but still, he hadn’t grown up in the same environment as you, and therefore he was privileged.

You were waiting for a train to go and visit your cousin up in Tamworth, and sat on the bench and attempted to read, all the while trying to ignore the hubbub of the train station - which was hard to do, even on a day unlike the one they had. Granted, Birmingham weather rarely saw any blue skies, an attribute to the factories poised on every street corner.

You stood when the call for the next train came in and reached to pull out your ticket when it was nearly knocked straight out of your gloved hand by a heavyweight.

“Oi! Watch what you’re doin’ posh twat!” The person that couldn’t have been any younger than you tugged off his cap and pushed his hair back as if he didn’t care that he had almost cost you your ticket any more than his hair.

“I’m sorry, miss.”

“What?” Usually, no one in Birmingham apologised for anything, and it threw you off guard. You didn’t like that.

“Do people not apologise here? I was wondering if you could tell me where to find Elizabeth Gray?” The boy had quite a plummy voice, and your earlier assumption of him being posh seemed to be true, at least in your eyes.

“Who’s askin’?”

“She’s an old friend.”

“Go to Watery Lane, she should be ‘round there.” You were sceptical of the stranger, but you didn’t want to anger the people he possibly had business with. You were a cautious person after all and didn’t need undesirables knocking on your door (you liked being alive).

The next time you bothered to look twice at Michael Gray was when he turned up with a young Blinder at the Marquis of Lorne where you and your friends were drinking at for the night.

As it turned out, you had helped him find the location of his birth mother, and the boy had to most appearances fit the mould of a Peaky Blinder - although his clothes were a little stiff - you thought.

To you, fighting was something schoolboys did over a football match, not grown men. But then again, when alcohol was involved it gave men and women a false sense of bravado that was spurred on by the alcohol they seemed to consume by the bucket-full.

You scoffed and turned away when a fight broke out amongst Polly Gray’s son and other men but, like an accident, you couldn’t help but turn and look at the wreck before you.

“Who is he?”

“Who’s ‘who’?” You glanced at your friend that pointed a wobbly finger towards Michael and his company you knew to be the preacher's son.

“That brown haired boy you can’t take your eyes off.”

“Him? No one special, he just barrelled into me at the train station.”

“Oh? And when was that?”

“A month ago.”

“A month ago, and you’re still holding a grudge?” She took a sip of her drink, “you must really like him then.”

You enjoyed a structured life. Everything you did had a purpose and was planned to the nth degree, and rarely deviated from the straight line you walked upon.

But, Michael Gray blurred that line for you and made you think about toeing the edges of it, tipping off of one side into his tangled web of life.

A new bed partner for you was something rare, much like a miracle. To share yourself with someone, you wanted to know them, especially if you were both going to be at each other’s mercy in your most vulnerable state.

You had taken yourself to the doctors the day after the incident had occurred, you were sure you were sick, but alas, you were perfectly healthy. Of course, you demanded that the doctor give you a referral to a clinic in London but he claimed there was no need of one.

“What’re you doing later on?” That was the way he liked to start his sentences when he wanted something from you. He knew that when he asked that question you dropped everything at a moments notice. How he was so enigmatic wasn’t lost on you, he was making a fine businessman so far, but the fact that you liked his charm irked you.

He knew that you liked his charm, and would turn it on and off whenever it suited him best.

Then it was two years later and you were still none-the-wiser to what this man could do to your heart.

You and Michael had agreed to keep things casual. The moments you shared together were exactly that, moments. They were fleeting, sweaty touches, salty taste, and scratch marks. You weren’t daft, you knew Michael had begun to see another woman, you even talked about her sometimes, whether you both had the same colour hair, did things the same, even whether you tasted the same when you kissed.

You weren’t invited to the wedding, but you had bought a dress on the off chance Michael would think to invite you, as he often showed up sporadically. The dress was returned the day of Tommy Shelby’s wedding.

Your friend managed to be Isaiah’s date and told you of Michael and the good girl from the good family he took into a spare room. It didn’t bother you, at least you told yourself so when you were alone, but the knot that made a home in your stomach would argue otherwise.

Once Michael became entangled with this girl the pair of you dwindled in contact, in fact, he only ever came over when he had heard from Finn that you’d made a fresh batch of biscuits. Those visits weren’t lust-filled as usual, but were sort of melancholic, as if you were stuck in a perpetual romance novel of doomed lovers.

“She’s pregnant.”

You nearly dropped the bundle of biscuits from your shaking hands.

“Congratulations. When’s the wedding?”

“She doesn’t want to keep it.” You continued to stare out of your window at the bleak brick wall view you could barely afford, even when Michael stood next to you and took the biscuits.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because we are friends.”

“Michael,” you scoffed, “I think we are the furthest thing from it.”

“I need to find someone to do the abortion, surely you must-”

“Surely I what?” You interrupted.

“Surely you must know someone who does those things.”

“And why would I know that?” Your fist slammed against the table as your eyes squinted at him. It wasn’t hard to understand what he was implying.

“I thought you would’ve had some experience with it. We’ve been doing this for two years now.”

The slap you left on his face created a welt immediately.

“Get out.”

Michael stood like a steel rod in front of you. You had never seen him look as dishevelled as he did at that moment, pupils dilated to the point you thought the black was going to bleed into the whites of his eyes.

“Michael?”

“Can I come in?” He coughed around a blood-soaked cigarette.

You were still disappointed and angry at him but he looked like he was in extreme distress, and who were you, if not a saint?

“Of course.” You shut the door behind him and followed him into the living room where he made himself comfortable.

The pair of you sat in silence before the ash slowly dropping from the cigarette onto your lounge caused you to grab it and stub it out.

“What’s wrong, Michael? Usually, you’d be tryin’ to get in my skirts by now.”

“I killed someone.” The casual way he said it made you break out in a barking laugh.

“What?”

“I killed a priest.”

“Why?” The shock of the situation was wiped away as you realised he wasn’t having you on.

“Did I ever tell you where I was before I was adopted?”

You shook your head.

“I went to the parish, and was under the care of that priest,” he paused and heaved a breath, “he had certain punishments that only seemed to be given out to the youngest boys.”

“Michael,” you gripped his tense forearm and moved closer to him.

“I was one of the youngest.”

“Michael, please, stop.”

“What, you don’t want to hear about how the priest liked me the best? How I was always the one given the other kid’s punishments on top of my own?” He let out an uncontrollable sob as his hand wiped at his glassy stare.

“Michael, you’re crying,” you wiped away his tears, “just stop, I can piece together the rest.”

“I always knew you were smart.”

“I never claimed not to be.” He wiped away the last of his tears with his suit sleeve and lit up another cigarette.

“I don’t think I would have killed the person that took Charlie had it not been him.”

“They took Tommy’s son?”

“You see why I had to do it?”

“Yes. Come on, you look dead on your feet, you can stay here.” You weren’t alright with Michael murdering someone, and he knew it too if the way you kept right against the wall was any indication. You tried not to turn back and face him but your feelings for the shell of a man whose shoulders still shook won out.

That night you wrapped him in your embrace, his back against your front, arms and legs intertwined with each other as you placed kisses across the galaxy of freckles that loitered on his back.

It was not long after that Michael was gone again, not because he got someone pregnant, but because his cousin made a deal at the expense of his families freedom.

“Could I stay here?”

“What about your mum?” You stroked Michael’s hair where it rested against your naked chest.

“Mum told me to leave.”

“She did?”

“Yeah,” he sighed.

“Well, you’ve all changed. Three years is a long time to be away from your loved ones.”

“Three years is a long time to be locked up without any visitors.” You felt him tense above you as he glanced up at you, dilated pupils from his high caused you to worry about his mental state, despite claiming he was fine.

You had never seen him use Tokyo before, he claimed he wanted to represent the ‘legal’ side of the business and if he used the party-drug he wouldn’t make himself a good name. You knew that the drugs in his system kept him awake, and would long after you were asleep, but you fought the temptation sleep afforded you. If Michael didn’t want to sleep, then neither would you.

“They wouldn’t let me visit. I tried Michael, every time there was a visiting day. Honest.”

“Tommy visited every so often. When I somehow needed someone to talk to, he knew.”

“I’m not Thomas Shelby.”

It didn’t take a man like Freud to work out that everytime Michael would sleep he dreamt of his stay in prison. He never spoke of it out loud, but you knew he would be haunted by his experience, how could he not? He was only human in spite of everything. Despite that, humans were resilient creatures, and you were sure that Michael would eventually regain some of his old self, however much would be left in this shell of a new person you were unsure.

You could feel a hand stroke your hair behind your ear. Your own hand clasped the knife in your pocket before you realised just who those nimble fingers belonged to.

“Michael?”

“Mum tells me that you refused to move from my bedside since you heard the news.”

“Didn’t know if it was the last time I’d see you, s’all.” You pressed your palm against your forehead, trying to prevent a headache forming even though you’d just woken up.

“For someone that profusely claims to not be in love with me, you sure act the part. You should think about going into film.”

“You can’t be too hard up, your sarcasm is back in fine form.” The hand that pressed against your hair drew its fingertips across your lips, and you chased them with chaste kisses, barely gracing them with your lips touch.

“It never left.”

“Good.”

The silence between the pair of you was heavy with words unsaid, and you ached with a burning longing to tell him all the things you had wanted to say.

“Michael-”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“Yes.”

“Know what, exactly?” You squirmed in the chair that may have permanently rendered you with stooped shoulders.

“That I have feelings for you, and vice versa.”

“You do? Because if you’re just looking for a nurse after you get out of hospital…” You trailed off and tried not to look him in the eyes, too embarrassed if he wasn’t serious.

“I’m not.”

“Okay.” The sigh you released was full of pleasure, and you brought Michael’s hand to your lips, finally pressing kisses to his fingers.

“Alright? You and me, yeah?”

“If you’ll have me.” You beamed.

“Wouldn’t want anyone else.”

“How do you know if you’re in love?”

“We just got married, I think we’re in love.” You raised your eyebrow at Michael, hoping he hadn’t suddenly changed his mind after your vows.

“We hardly say it though.”

“We don’t need a few words to prove to us that we’re in love.” You grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter that seemed to glide across the floor of the ballroom, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Hey, no champagne!” Michael screeched and grabbed the flute from your hands.

Michaels screech alerted Ada who stood closest to you.

“Are you pregnant?” Her smile spread from ear to ear as she looked your body up and down, trying to gauge how far along you were.

“Michael,” you hurried to quieten your now-husband before he alerted his mother, who became a bloodhound whenever a pregnancy was brought up.

“Polly, come here! Y/N and Michael have something to tell you,” Arthur called, having heard Ada’s rapid speech.

Your shoulders sagged, and you chewed your lower lip incessantly, trying to plan your escape in your mind before Polly caught up with you.

“Are you really pregnant?” Polly’s eyes shined with a lightness you hadn’t seen in a long time, and you tried not to meet her eyes when you swallowed around your answer of ‘yes’.

“This,” she placed her hand on the unnoticeable bump, “is a great blessing. My first grandchild.”

Michael stood slack-jawed, unable to move as he watched Polly lavish your stomach with attention. You had both thought - with a certain shame - that Polly would have been irate at the idea of you being pregnant. You had only found out a few days before the wedding that you were with child and wanted to keep it close to your hearts until you began to show.

“I think I might be more in love with you now than the day you called me a ‘posh twat’,” Michael bragged as he looked down at the small bundle in your arms.

You had not yet taken your eyes off the boy in your arms, who also stared up at you wide-eyed, not yet sleepy.

“You think?”

“I know so.” Since you had become pregnant, Michael had begun to notice the smallest details in life. He would notice the way you became more reliant on physical contact when you were excited about something, and how you often tapped your fingers unconsciously against the swelling baby bump. These things made him appreciate you all the more, and finally understood what you meant when you said he ‘wiggled his eyebrows’ when he desired you.

“Do you reckon he’ll look more like me or you when he’s older?”

“I hope he’ll look like you.”

“Me? I hope he looks like a combination of the both of us, your eyes, my hair maybe?”

“He’ll be a little heartbreaker, that’s for sure.”

“If he’s anything like his father he will be a gentleman,” you added as an afterthought, “once he’s grown up, that is.”

“I was very much a man grown when we met, actually.”

“Your teenage cousin was more mature than you.” The baby adjusted himself against your breast, burrowing himself in, much like Polly said he would because of being able to smell your milk.

“Are we really arguing over our newborn son?”

“This is just repartee. We haven’t begun to argue yet.” You settled yourself against the headboard of the bed, smelling the fresh linen the maids had fixed for you whilst the midwife helped you clean yourself.

“Repartee aside, have we decided on a name before our family makes their presence known?”

“You liked the name Theodore, yes? Theo for short?” You glanced up at Michael who had yet to take his eyes off his progeny.

“I thought you hated it?”

“I think it’s grown on me.” Your fingers were gripped by your son’s tiny hand in his sleep, and subconsciously you thought that he was giving you his seal of approval.

“Theodore Gray. You’re going to be wonderful, little guy.”

[imagines-hoarder]

I’ll Always Save You- John Shelby

Request// A john Shelby imagine where you (his wife, pregnant or not your choice) get kidnapped and he has to get the entire family together to get you back.. Pleaseeee

*I love y’all for all the positive feedback you’ve been giving me! Thank you guys so much and I’m going to try and post a couple new prompts this week. xoxox*

Masterlist

“Tommy,” John yelled out in the empty betting house. “Tommy!”

“What the hell is it, Johnny Boy?” Tommy and Pol made themselves known by exiting the office to find a hysterical John pacing across the wooden floorboards.

“They’ve got her, they took Y/N.” He made little since out of context, but the fear Thomas heard as your name fell from his throat had him on high alert. You and John had been married for over three years and he had never seemed as happy as he was after meeting you. It was almost as if the war never happened, and John was once again the boyishly charming lad that everyone once knew.

“What? Who took her?”

“Fuckin’ Sabini’s men. They came to the house and ripped her from our bed while I was out.” John’s breathing became heavy, every word whispered making the situation more real.

Now, Tommy paced as well. Tonight had been a low point for the Shelbys. Arthur had been arrested for the murder Billy Kitchen while Michael had been thrown behind bars by Officer Campbell for the burning of the Marquis of Lorne. The pile was just adding up.

“John, aye...we’ll find her.”

“Do you remember what his men did for us just causing trouble at the Eden Club?” It was as if John hadn’t even heard Tommy’s remark. Thomas had tried to erase the memory of Sabine's thugs slicing his tongue and wasn’t fond of its resurrection by his brother. “Y/N may not be so lucky to keep her tongue.” John had never looked so lost, and it only displayed a fraction of what we truly felt. Polly moved to rub her nephews back sympathetically. “Tommy...she’s pregnant. She just told me yesterday. Aven’t got the chance to tell no one yet.”

“I’ll get some of our men on the lookout now. Let’s go,” Tommy declared as he passed his brother and aunt, moving quickly to the door. He didn’t know what would happen if John were to lose you, especially now with his child involved. He didn’t want to see his younger brother to fall into the dark and lonely abyss that had built up since before their return from France. The guilt and the recollection would surely drive him into madness without you.

“You know, if that husband of yours doesn’t come get you soon, we’ll have to make our own use of you,” the thug charged to watch over you taunted, laughing down to your shivering figure.

It had been two days since you’d been thrown into that cold wet room. 48 hours in retrospect wasn’t that long, but every minute lasted the entire 60 seconds when Sabini’s men were threatening you and your family. You never showed fear. You couldn’t. You were raised to be one of the strong Birmingham girls that could take care of herself and marrying John- a man who always offered you the world- hadn’t changed that. “How about you fuck off?” You spit up at the man, which was an impulse decision you still hadn’t learned from.

Your head snapped swiftly to the side and your cheek burned from his slap. “What did I say about that mouth of yours, whore? Dirty things should be going in, not coming out of it.” He bent down to level with you, your head still turned. “If you can’t stop with the remarks, maybe I’ll have to cut off those pretty pink lips of yours.” He ran his rough, dirty fingers across your lips, and it took everything within your power to not vomit. Maybe it was the morning sickness finally kicking in, but you prayed that the thugs didn’t find out that you were carrying a Shelby baby. “And why stop there? Maybe I could cut off your eyelids so you see every second of us torturing your husband. We’ll keep the ears though, make sure you hear him scream.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry. The thought of John in pain had put you in distraught. You had been in love with the man before he even left for the war. Though you would never admit it at the time, he had been married. Though being a family friend of Polly’s, you helped take care of the kids and the business after Martha’s death. When the boy’s came back, it was as if you were already part of the family, but John had made it official soon after.

You turned back to look him straight in the eyes, partially challenging him. “When John finds me, he’s gonna put a bullet right between your eyes. Or maybe I’ll have the pleasure of hearing your screams instead.”

His wicked grin returned larger than before, and you felt your blood run cold as his grip tightened on both sides of your face. Before he could punish you, gunshots rung outside the door across the room. The thugs smile quickly disappeared as he pulled you up and made you face the door, wrapping you tightly in his hostile grip.

As soon as Tommy and John burst through the door with their pistols held high, you heard the thug turn the safety off his own gun and raise it to your head. “You know, I thought you Shelbys were supposed to work fast. It’s been over two days now.”

“Hand over my wife before I blow your fuckin’ brains out!” The sentence became more of a roar with every word John let out. He had a wild look in his eyes that you’d never seen before. You could only pray that your husband didn’t make a reckless decision that would cost one of your lives.

“You pull that trigger and the bitch will have a bullet in her brain before you can hit me,” he spoke with menacing tone, but you could feel him shaking against you. Fear and adrenaline were rushing through his veins. You quickly made eye contact with John and Tommy nodding your head subtly to be prepared for you to take action.

Quickly you raised your leg and kicked backwards with the force of a horse against his kneecap. The thug doubled over in pain and his grip loosened enough for you to slip out of his reach. You fell forward towards John and Tommy took the chance to shoot the man. He was dead before he could hit the floor and John caught you, pulling you tightly against him. You hadn’t felt any peace in the past several days like the tranquility John’s touch offered. “You saved me,” you whispered into his chest, trying to keep tears from falling down your pale, cold cheeks.

“I’ll always save you, Y/N.” He pulled you back to look you over for injuries. He touched your bruised skin with a gentleness no other Blinder possessed. “The baby?”

“They’re fine. I don’t think Sabini’s men even knew.” You tensed once again as you looked over to Tommy, realizing he didn’t know yet.

“Congratulations, Y/N,” he said smoothly with a small nod. “You’ll no doubt make a fine mother.”

You gave him a mirrored nod in gratitude before falling back in your husband’s touch. “Let’s go home, I can’t stand to be in this room for another minute.”

[officialotakudome]

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New Post has been published on http://otakudome.com/comedy-central-announces-new-upfront-shows/

Comedy Central Announces New Upfront Shows

Comedy Central has announced its 2017-2018 slate:

NEW YORK, April 18, 2017 — Comedy Central today released its 2017-2018 development slate, including three series pick-ups and nine pilot orders. The slate is headlined by series orders for scripted series Corporate; stand-up and music hybrid variety series The New Negroes; and Taskmaster, a game show format imported from the U.K. which will be hosted by Reggie Watts. The 2017-2018 slate was announced by Kent Alterman, President, Comedy Central.

“There is more high-level talent in this announcement than I could ever hope to convey in a corporate quote,” said Alterman.

Following the recent additions to its storied late night line-up, including the upcoming premiere of The President Show on April 27, a Jim Jefferies weekly late night series debuting this summer, and the addition of Jordan Klepper’s Daily Show persona to its late-night line-up weeknights, beginning in the fall, Comedy Central’s current development slate continues to open the aperture with a focus on creator-driven projects helmed by burgeoning talent who write, produce and star in their own projects including: Awkwfina, Neal Brennan, Arturo Castro, Chris Kelly and Sarah Schneider, Jak Knight, Franchesca Ramsey, Baron Vaughn and Open Mike Eagle and Flint Wainess and Noël Wells, among others.

Information on the slate follows:

2017-2018 CONTENT DEVELOPMENT SLATE

SERIES GREENLIGHTS

Corporate – From Pat Bishop, Matt Ingebretson, and Jake Weisman comes a dark, edgy look at life as a Junior-Executive-in-Training at your average, soulless multi-national corporation. Matt and Jake (Ingebretson and Weisman) are at the mercy of a tyrannical CEO Christian DeVille (Lance Reddick) and his top lieutenants, sycophants John and Kate (Adam Lustick and Anne Dudek). As Matt and Jake navigate an ever-revolving series of disasters their only ally is Hampton Deville Human Resources rep Grace (Aparna Nancherla). Executive produced by Ingebretson, Weisman, Bishop, who will also direct and Jake Fogelnest. Adam Londy and Ian Friedman are the Executives in Charge of Production for Comedy Central.

Taskmaster – Produced by Avalon Television, Taskmaster is based on the BAFTA and Royal Television Society award-nominated, internationally popular UK format. Reggie Watts will star as the Taskmaster who, with series creator Alex Horne as his loyal assistant, will judge five unwitting comedians as they compete against each other with creativity, cunning and genius in a series of stupefying tasks. Executive produced by Watts, Horne, Richard Allen-Turner, Rob Aslett, David Martin, James Taylor, Jon Thoday, Kara Baker and Andy Devonshire, who will also direct. Kellyn Parker, Adam Londy and Jordan Ellner are the Executives in Charge of Production for Comedy Central.

The New Negroes – Described by The New York Times as a show that “wants to do more than simply provoke laughter…Baron Vaughn and Open Mike Eagle want to challenge ideas about what constitutes black entertainment and expand the discussion about black life in America,” The New Negroes is a socially aware stand-up and musical series showcasing a collection of new and established comedians. Created, executive produced and co-hosted by Baron Vaughn, executive produced and co-hosted by Open Mike Eagle and executive produced by Betsy Koch, Funny Or Die, and Lance Bangs, who will direct. JoAnn Grigioni, Anne Harris and Kellyn Parker are the Executives in Charge of Production for Comedy Central.

PILOT DEVELOPMENT

(all titles listed are working titles)

Alternatino – based on the Comedy Central digital series, a half-hour sketch show hosted and performed by Arturo Castro (“Broad City”) as he attempts to navigate life as a modern Latino millennial – whatever that means. Executive Produced by Castro and Avalon’s David Martin, Jon Thoday, Richard Allen-Turner and Sam Saifer.

Delco Proper – based on the Comedy Central digital series, centers around a group of buddies from Delaware County, PA, who’ve worked together in the same lumberyard for years. In that time, they’ve learned one thing for sure: It’s hard to change in a town that doesn’t. Written by John McKeever and Tommy Pope, with McKeever set to direct. Executive Produced by McKeever, Pope, Eric Abrams, and Sam Saifer of Avalon.

Home for the Weekend – created, executive produced and hosted by comedian Neal Brennan, this mockumentary-style half-hour follows Neal and a celebrity guest as they take a weekend trip back to the guest’s hometown. In each episode, things veer off the rails and pleasant strolls down memory lane take unexpected turns which reveal surprising backstories and hidden details about high-profile stars. Executive produced by Brennan, Party Over Here’s Andy Samberg, Akiva Schaffer and Jorma Taccone, along with Lindsay Hannon.

Power Couple – created, written and executive produced by Noël Wells (who is attached to star) and Flint Wainess, Power Couple is the story of Flint and Noel, a neurotic 20-something couple in Austin, Texas navigating the existential horrors of the Internet age while constantly clashing with friends, neighbors, and the absurdity of the world around them.

Untitled Awkwafina Project – written by Nora Lum and Teresa Hsiao, executive produced by Itay Reiss of Principato-Young Entertainment and Lum and co-executive produced by Hsiao, this half-hour scripted narrative focuses on a heightened version of Nora Lum, better known as rapper Awkwafina, as she navigates the underground hip hop community in Queens.

Untitled Chris Kelly And Sarah Schneider Project – written by Chris Kelly and Sarah Schneider, features two struggling siblings who are forced to reevaluate their lives when their much younger 12-year-old brother becomes instantly famous without trying. Chris Kelly (Other People) is set to direct. Executive produced by Kelly, Schneider, Lorne Michaels and Andrew Singer of Broadway Video.

Untitled Franchesca Ramsey Project – led by Franchesca Ramsey, the most diverse set of comedians on TV will heal America through brutal comedy, surprising guests, and breakdowns of the most pressing cultural issues you never knew you cared about. Who knew the awful truth was so hilarious? Executive produced by Ramsey, Eric Brown and Andrew Kornhaber and Kara Welker of Generate.

Untitled Jak Knight Stand-Up Project – Jak Knight hosts an underground stand-up show featuring three comedians from different genres and a unique performance from an emerging musical artist. Produced by Den of Thieves, executive produced by Knight, Molly Mandel, Lisa Mierke, Jared Morell, Jordan Barrow, Evan Prager, and Jesse Ignjatovic and directed by Chris Storer.

Untitled South Side Project – Written by Bashir Salahuddin, Diallo Riddle and Sultan Salahuddin, this workplace comedy is set in and around a rent-to-own business on the South Side of Chicago (where the Salahuddins grew up). All three writers will have roles on the show. The show will be executive produced by Bashir Salahuddin and Riddle as well as executive produced and directed by Michael Blieden.