#mistress visits canada

[mistress-light]

Visited the Niagara Falls at night this yesterday evening. The changing of colors was magical. Closest I’ve ever been to New York state.

[dollarbin]

Dollar Bin #7:

Art Garfunkel's Watermark,

Special Melted Edition!

Good news, people. I traveled to Portland and hit one of their dollar bins last week, emerging victorious with 10 or so new-to-me titles for a grand total of $32, and all of them are candidates for future posts. Everyone's been clambering for my take on Art Garfunkel and Bob "whoops, I just shaved off my eyebrows" Geldof, right? Please?

We'll get to good old Artie Funk in a moment, I promise. I'm sure he has a huge international following who gather in silent support every time his entire limo gets arrested for way too much pot smoke, but all you Garfolks need to just take a chill pill for a minute because there's some bad news to follow my good news, the kind of bad news that will leave you crying in your beer. (Stop reading right now and go get some beer to cry in if it's not already in hand.)

Dear reader, I left those Portland Dollar Bin records in my rental car during my trip, figuring it was all good because, after all, I was in Portland. But when I visited my stack three days later, I found the following Gertrude-chugging-the-poisoned-wine level tragedy had occurred:

Take the rag away from your face friends; now's not the time for your tears. The record above is a $1 copy of a soundtrack by Luna's Dean Wareham for a Noah Baumbach movie I'd never even heard of beforehand called Mistress America starring Barbie's very own Greta Gerwig. Nice title, Noah! What's the sequel called, Senorita Canada?

I like Sideshow by the Seashore as much as the next guy and I still remember the bizarre but edgy decision to lay Street Hassle over the climax of The Squid and the Whale so I figured $1 was a very safe investment for the soundtrack. But reading just now that the Financial Times finds that a "neo-screwball" sequence in the movie "exemplifies the film's themes of love, art, and betrayal" makes me want to melt Baumbach's entire face, so I'm no longer too broken up about the record's destruction.

Having just read that previous paragraph, my famous brother, who's surely interviewed Dean, is no longer crying in his locally sourced organic sour beer; rather he is silently cursing my woeful ignorance while hitting speed dial for Greta at the Barbie Dreamcastle so as to swiftly disassociate himself from The Dollar Bin forever. Sorry bro!

But let's move now to the real tragedy in this saga. Do you know how many vinyl copies of Fairport Convention's Live at the L.A. Troubadour are currently for sale on the internet? (We are not talking about House Full here, people, we are talking about the original release.)

Two copies. Two. Total.

That's right, while there are surely 6.4 million copies of Catch Bull at Four out there to be had, there are just two copies of Live at the L.A. Troubadour available in the whole wide universe. But last weekend I found a third one in Portland, one that no one has played or even looked at in its 50 years of Dollar Bin dwelling. That third copy was good as new and it cost $12. $12! That'll buy you half a Michelada at a Dodgers game; so finding that record and getting it at that price was as lucky as picking Mike Piazza in the 498th round.

And what did I do with this coveted find? You already know.

I melted it.

Bury the rag DEEP in your face, because I basically melted Mike Piazza. What kind of shlub am I? Next time you invite me over for drinks, don't pour me the good stuff because I'll just spill it all over your birth certificates, your Picassos and your tiny children's handwritten thank you letters, complete with heart drawings, for grandma. Rather, serve me a cheap domestic and give me a bib.

This is only my second experience with music melting. How many have you had? 25 years ago I left a CD copy of Mule Variations in my Ford Tempo and returned after a full day of work to find that the whole thing had turned into a flame broiled platter of creeping destruction. What the hell was I building, you ask? Melted Music, I respond. I was bummed back then. But that was nothing in comparison to last weekend's woe.

But I promised you good news, and more good news is coming! Firstly, my famous friend Greg's frig, located outside of Portland, was full of Miller High Life, The Champagne of Beers. So I had some.

Secondly, I soon discovered that the lower down I went in the record stack from the car the less melting had occurred.

And guess what was located far enough down to still be playable without any audible disruption? Live at the Troubadour! Sure, watching it go around on my turntable is like watching my cat try to shake off her fleas but I plan to never sell a single title in my Dollar Bin and I know that when my children inherit my dumpster of a collection they will cherish it forever and probably never even notice that my Troubadour record looks as sloppy as my t-shirt collection. So what the hell do I care?

Okay, at this point the Art Garpeople who joined this blog just to hear my thoughts on Watermark, Godfunkle's 1977 third outing as a solo artist who neither wrote songs nor played an instrument, are demanding my immediate destruction. I guess I'd better talk about the record.

So let's drop the needle already!

Uh-oh. Either Watermark is a big deal, unlistenable concept record (like Pink Floyd's The Wall) about bobbing about on the deep seas of regret, troubled water all about and nary a bridge to be seen, wherein Artie shakes his famous high tenor and the whole band way down to deepest bass every fourth syllable OR my copy of Watermark was higher in the stack of Portland heated mutilation and is now warped to the point where Gargie's version of a What a Wonderful World unintentionally sounds like What a Woooooooonderfil World.

(Yes, I mean what I said just now about The Wall. Bob Geldoff shaving his brows in the film is the best thing to say about the whole thing; Roger Waters, post Animals, makes Stephen Stills sound like a reputable songwriter.)

But relax, all you Artie G fanatics. I will ease your mi-i-ind. I'm not going to judge Watermark based on my very wavy copy. So cool your jets, adjust your giant perms and trust me. I promise to buy a second, unwarped $1 copy of Watermark and write all about it, asap.

Before we go, I must sorrowfully report one final tragic occurrence from this whole sordid episode. While hunting the Dollar Bin in Portland I had my eye out for Stephen Stills records. The fact is that at some point I need to place my entire, rapidly blossoming reputation as a Dollar Bin influencer on the line by actually listening to entire Stephen Stills records. If they are good, I'm finished. So, sadly, I've got to go out and buy some.

But the Portland store I visited, ridiculously, had marked its more than a dozen copies of Stills 2 at $2 each. Memo to the store: no one wants Stills records at $2 a pop. Ever.

The tragedy here is that I did not find any of our favorite villain's records cheap enough to buy, so I did not proceed to place them on the top of the stack in my rental car, thereby melting them out of existence. Thus the world is still saddled with copies of Stills 2.

Next time I melt music I promise to do so more thoughtfully.

(P.S. If you are still reading this, please know that my school year just started and so my pace of posting here will surely slow. My goal is to write once a week and I really do appreciate you letting me ramble. Hunting in The Dollar Bin requires your patience!)

[eviesessays]

2. Who are the funniest people in your family?

I was born in 1935 and those early years will not be remembered as an era  of great humor. Hitler was the dictator of Germany and head of the Nazi party.  He invaded Poland in 1939 and began his sinister extermination of nearly six million Jews.  Benito Mussolini was the Fascist dictator in Italy,  He invaded Albania in 1939.  I was entering first grade.  Mussolini died by firing squad in 1945 and he was hung upside down with his mistress in Milan for all to see. Prime Minister Winston Churchill in England was fighting for the very survival of his motherland against relentless bombing. We sat silently listening to great speeches on the radio and we prayed for outcomes, the severity of which  we scarcely knew.

I vaguely remember being taken with my brothers down to the railroad station to see King George V and Queen Mary as they stopped in Sioux Lookout on their cross Canada tour.  They were drumming up support for the war but Canada had already committed troops to many battles overseas.  We had many friends whose Dads were, “away at the war”,  Our dear neighbours, Austin and Gertie McIvor had four sons away at battle.  Ivan was in the Army and married an English war bride.  Bert and Douglas were in the Navy. Roderick, their oldest son was in the Air Force.  His plane was shot down and he is buried in France. We had a friend whose Dad came back with only one leg. At home gas was rationed, as was sugar, butter and meat. We drank powdered milk. We mixed a yellow colouring into the margarine when our butter coupons were exhausted. These were small sacrifices compared to the price some paid.

These were worrisome and trying times that required some comic relief somewhere and my Dad was a more than willing supporter of a little humor and levity.  My Mother was devoid of any sense of humor and my Dad was more than happy to compensate.  On Sundays we walked to Fasano’s Candy store and for five cents each we could pick out candy treats.  We went on to the Drug Store and got a NY newspaper that had the best funnies. Every Sunday my Dad read us, “The Teeny Weenies”.  He regaled us with fanciful stories about almost catching the Easter Bunny and he had a few tufts of hair to demonstrate how close an encounter this really was.  He once had a few whiskers from Santa’s beard.He fancied himself a great skater and taught us all to do his figure eights. He assured us that if your nose ran and your feet smelled, you were built upside down. All of his grandchildren were remarkable and in his one word description, they were all,”chubbyhealthygoodlooking” children. This was their identity until about the age of six. Once when he visited, Jaylyn came home with a new pair of dungarees which were in high fashion in high schools at the time.  When she asked my Dad if he liked them he responded, “Well I spent a lot of years hoping I would never have to wear those pants ever again. But if you like them, I like them.”  My Dad’s family were potato farmers in East Selkirk, Manitoba.  They were immigrants from Galacia escaping the Bolshevik Revolution.  On his last visit to us I met him at Logan Airport in Boston.  He walked with a limp since his last stroke.  I told him he looked like Charlie Chaplin.  He said he wished someone paid him as much to walk like that.  My Dad was a funny man.

My Dad was funny but here comes the “but”, my brother, Kip, (Clifford), was even funnier.  He saw the humor in everything.  He was different than Carl and I and later Michael and Elizabeth. He was kind and gentle.  I don’t know why he was like that but he was.  He was born in 1934 and was immediately diagnosed as a “blue baby” which was obvious from his color.  This was as scientifically advanced as Medicine was about congenital heart anomalies in Sioux Lookout in 1934.  Kip, in much later years was diagnosed with Ebsteins  anomaly in which parts of the heart are missing.  The tricuspid valve does not work efficiently.  Doctor Bell advised my mother not to send him to school’  He thought it would be too hard on his heart and he was not going to live to make use of an education..  Being a stout German woman from whom nobody was given a pass  Kip started school at age 6. I was 5 and sent along to, “watch out for him”’.  I always felt protective of Kip but over time I more than realized, he was really my rock and my redeemer.

As children we all learned to swim  We all  learned to skate.  No exceptions were made for Kip  unless being made goalie instead of a defense man  on the hockey team matters.  He curled on our High School Curling team.  He wrote the hockey news for our local paper.

When Kip was about 18 the local Rotary Club wanted to make Kip’s heart their project.  Mayo Clinic had just begun doing heart surgery and the plan was to get Kip to the Mayo and repair his heart.  He had to be seen in Winnipeg for clearance and was told there that he was not a candidate for the type of surgery now available.  He accepted this with the equanimity with which he accepted everything in his life. When I admonished him for what I thought was excessive carousing, he replied that he had to fit a lot of life in a lot less years.  When Kip turned 34 he wrote to me acknowledging that he now made it longer than Jesus Christ and added that he could never have put odds on himself.

In 1969 he had married Roberta (Bobbie) Law.  In four years they had four children. the youngest , Kim and Kent are twins.  Kip continued to work at the Imperial Bank of Canada where he began as a teller the day after we graduated from high school.. They managed to move between all the babies deliveries  Banks in Canada transfer employees as frequently as the military.  Through amalgamations the Imperial Bank now became, The Imperial Bank of Commerce of Canada.  It was from there Kip was medically retired at the age of 59.

Kip died on August 18, 2005.  He had outlived Dr Bell’s life expectancy prognostication by 50 plus years and much of it was spent laughing.  Near his end in a conversation with his cardiologist, Dr. Belands of the Heart Institute he agreed to donate his heart to the Institute and he asked only that they be certain he was done with it.  At his wake many told stories of his’ “Kipisms”.  A bank colleague told about a golf tournament at which Kip whiffed the first stroke on the first hole.. He looked  around and  exclaimed, “This really is a tough course”.  He said their dining room at home ran on pool house rules, One foot on the floor at all times.  whenever asked what he was up to he generally responded, “Oh about 6 foot 2 inches.”  He felt that the best thing about central air conditioning was that it allowed him to wear his winter clothes all year round.  About his health, he said he felt like a cat with nine lives and only wished he knew how many he had already used up.  Their neighbor, Maureen was clapping her hands at the blue jays monopolizing the bird feeder.and observed they were not deterred.  Kip said the jays thought they were getting a standing ovation.  He was once bemoaning his weight loss and described himself as a telephone pole with glasses..

I visited Kip often in that last year of his life..  When I was home in Warner, I called him frequently.  I always asked how he was and his response was always the same,  “Oh I”m 100 percent.  I just don’t know of what.”  Kip was the funniest person in our family.  I miss him dreadfully but still laugh out loud when recalling times with him.

[orange2212]

original short story

title: death in the mountain lodge

genres: mystery, whodunit

word count: 4443 words

Chapter One

I was on vacation, and I was hiking in a mountain. But in the afternoon, it began to snow all of a sudden.

This was Canada, so it got really cold in the winter, and there were blizzards sometimes.

Fortunately, I had downloaded a map of the area on my phone beforehand. Scrolling and zooming on the map, I saw that there was an inn that's about a few kilometers away from me.

'I can stay there for tonight, and hike back to the city when the snow stops.'

I made a good call, because by the time I arrived, it was snowing like crazy. The wind was howling, and a thick coat of snow was starting to form on the mountain soil.

The innkeeper and the mistress greeted me in the lobby.

He was an old, squat man with wrinkled soft cheeks. He wore a worn grey jacket over a dress shirt, and dress pants covered his long legs.

His wife was taller and thinner, and wore an old long-sleeved dress and leggings underneath.

As they helped me check in, we chatted and introduced ourselves.

His name was Richard, and hers was Melissa.

"This is a really nice place," I remarked, looking around at the wooden cottage-like walls, inhaling the aroma of the wood.

The couple smiled proudly.

"My great grandparents started this inn," the old man said. "My grandparents worked here, and so did my parents."

"And when I met him and first came here," the mistress said, "I fell in love with this place at first sight."

"Wow," I smile, genuinely touched.

"What do you do for a living?" the old woman asked as she wrote my name onto the check-in sheet.

"Oh, I'm a private investigator."

As soon as I said that, the mistress stopped for a moment, her face--almost imperceptibly--looked paralyzed in that brief moment. But then she returned to normal. I wasn't sure if I just imagined that or what.

"Oh, I don't handle anything involving extremely serious crimes. I'm not a homicide detective or anything like that," I say, laughing. "I mostly just investigate cheating husbands, missing pets, and the likes."

The mistress was probably just surprised to learn that I work in law enforcement. Nothing more.

I paid with my credit card. Then, I retreated to my room upstairs. I was so tired from the hiking that I took a nap.

***

When I hazily woke up in the evening, I realized that the snow had gotten even bigger. It was a beast made of billions of snowflakes, whipping at the trees, roaring along with the wind.

There was electricity and running water, but no wi-fi or phone signal. I was going to be stuck here for tonight or even tomorrow night.

I sighed, worried about my girlfriend. She was a city girl, and loved to visit quaint coffee shops and museums. Meanwhile, I grew up on a farm, and I liked to be in the wilderness. We have some shared hobbies that we do together, and we watch TV together.

But today we split up to do fun stuff. I went hiking and she went shopping in town. I didn't expect to be stranded in a mountain lodge by a snowstorm.

She's probably freaking out about me right now. I look out the window, hoping futilely that the snow will stop soon.

Just then, I noticed something. A sound. A rattling, coming from the door. The doorknob wiggles. There was a creak, and my door openes by just a crack.

I realize that someone was picking the lock on my door.

"Hello?" I say loudly, springing up from the mattress.

The sounds stops abruptly, replaced by footsteps hurrying away.

I threw open the door, just in time to see a mouselike man around my age, in his thirties, scurrying away.

As he slipped into the room and closed the door, our eyes met for a brief moment. A chill crawled uo my spine. His eyes were like voids. Dark spots framed by sunken cheeks and greasy hair.

I hurried downstairs. I found the innkeeper and the mistress downstairs in the kitchen, cooking food together. I ask if I can talk about something. The innkeeper nodded and he followed to the lobby. I tell the innkeeper what happened.

He frowned, looking worried. "Maybe he was trying to steal from you... Don't worry, I'll ask him about what happened. If he can't offer an explanation, I'll kick him out."

"Ok, thank you so much."

A few moments later, a voice came from upstairs. Followed by loud echoing footsteps on the staircase.

"Grandpa, grandma, is dinner ready?"

I turn around and see a young woman, 19 or 20 or so, wearing a t-shirt, pajama pants, and slippers.

The innkeeper frowns and scolds him. "Have you chopped the firewood yet? And also, there are guests here. You need to go get dressed this instant, young lady."

"Ugh, geez..." she reaches up and tussels her already-messy brown hair. "You guys should just sell this shitty old place already."

"Alice!" the innkeeper said furiously.

The girl didn't flinch. She kept talking as she walked down the stairs. "I've been telling you guys. I'm going to start college next fall. Who's gonna do the heavy work then? You guys will like, I dunno, fucking slip and fall and die or something. So sell this place and like, I dunno, buy a nice apartment or something in the town."

The innkeeper inhaled sharply and he looked like he was really pissed off. "Listen to me..."

Just then, the door to the cafetaria opened. "Food is ready, everyone!"

The innkeeper glanced over at me, as though just realizing that I'm there. "Sorry about that," he said softly.

This inn served meals to guests who stayed there. I hear a door upstairs open and close, and someone treaded softly down the stairs.

It was the shady guy who tried to pick my lock. He stared at me for a few moments, but I tried to ignore him.

All five of us headed into the cafetaria to eat dinner.

***

We sat around a round table, each with our own plates and foods.

I sat next to the innkeeper, who sat next to the mistress, who sat next to their daughter, and the shady guy sat between their daughter and me.

The innkeeper finished eating first. He took out a newspaper and started filling out the crossword.

"He loves doing these crossword puzzles way too much," the mistress said, giving him a light playful pat on the shoulder. "He picks up the paper from the town every week."

"Mm, crosswords are fun," I said.

The meal was warm and delicious. As I finished eating, I looked over at the newspaper, the backside of the paper that was facing away from everyone else. I saw something that made my blood turn cold.

In bold headlines were the words, Burglar Robs Home, Steals All of the Money, and is Currently on the Run.

And underneath was a picture. A face looked back at me. It was the shady man's face. The shady man who tried to pick my door lock was a burglar who was on the run.

My eyes widened. But I didn't want to say what I saw in front of everyone, because I didn't want the shady guy to possibly retaliate. I decided to tell the innkeeper later, in private. I drew in a deep breath and tried to steady myself.

The dinner continued on.

We were having a conversation, but then somehow something triggered the subject of the girl going to college. The innkeeper and the mistress started arguing with their granddaughter again.

"You can stay here and look after the family inn," the mistress said.

"I don't want to! Stop trying to control me!" The girl yelled.

"Alice, don't talk that way to your grandmother."

"This shitty old place isn't turning any profit anymore anyways," the girl said. "There are hotels in the town, not a lot of people stays here anymore. You're just wasting your savings on something that's doomed to die."

"How can you say that?" the mistress choked out.

"Ugh," the girl slammed her plate on the table and stormed out, going upstairs to her bedroom.

With a tired expression, the innkeeper buried his face into his hands. The mistress rubbed her temple, sighing.

Without a word, the shady guy got up and walked upstairs to his bedroom as well.

The innkeeper, the mistress, and I sat in silence for several more minutes. Then, at last, they stood up and began tidying up. I helped them a bit with the dishes.

I felt sympathetic towards this family. This lodge was old, I could see it in the patterns of the wood. It had history, and it clearly meant a lot to the family.

As I turned to leave the kitchen, I saw the newspaper and remembered. I showed the innkeeper and the mistress the newspaper article, and the photo. "That guy is a fugitive."

"Oh god," the innkeeper said.

The mistress didn't say anything, but her eyes widened by a lot.

"W-we'll inform the authorities immediately once the snow stops," the mistress said.

But the snow didn't stop even as night fell. As I lied in bed, wrapping the blanket tightly around myself, I could hear the snow, howling and roaring like a pack of wolves.

Chapter two

When I was a kid, I thought that snow was so fun and beautiful. I loved building snowmans and sledding.

As an adult, however, its true nature revealed itself.

Snow trapped and isolated people. Impeded by the cold and a sinking ground, people had a harder time leaving a place if they wanted to. When something happened, it was also harder for rescue to get there.

After what happened, I doubted I could ever look at snow in the same way again.

That night at the inn, in the middle of the night, I woke up to the sound of reverberating footsteps. It sounded like there were two people. I groggily wondered who it was, and thought that they sounded rather like they were in a hurry.

I checked my watch. It was 2:17am. What was going on?

Suddenly, there was a loud crash.

"Is everything ok out there?" I called out, but no response.

I quickly got up. Just as I turned the knob, there was a second crash.

I opened the door, and a second later, Alice's door opened as well.

"What's the big fuss?" she asked.

"I don't know, I think the sound came from the staircase." A hint of nervousness crept into my voice.

The hallway was really dark. The world was made of silhouettes and ghosts.

As we approached the stairs, we saw someone kneeled over at the top. I couldn't see them clearly at first. But then they stood up to face us, and I saw that it was the mistress of the house.

She heard our footsteps and quickly got up to face us.

When we got closer to the mistress, I saw that she had been crying. Her eyes were all red and puffed up, and tear streaks covered her face.

"Grandma, are you ok?" Alice rushed to her side.

The mistress held a hand over her mouth and choked. "Your grandfather... he..."

A terrible feeling spread in my chest. I turned and looked down the stairs.

The innkeeper was at the bottom, face-down. I jogged down and checked his pulse, but there was none.

I looked up at the other two, who were still at the top. Alice was completely frozen and her eyes were open so wide that they were almost popping out.

"How is he?" she asked.

The mistress just cried.

"I'm very sorry," I said. My own face must've looked aghast as well.

That night, Alice clung to the mistress, as though she was worried that the snow would take her grandmother away as well. She kept crying intermittently. The two of them slept in Alice's room.

Somehow, I managed to sleep too.

***

The next day, we gathered in the kitchen to discuss what happened last night, and next steps.

We took turns stating what we witnessed that night. Alice and I saw basically the same things.

"I was sleeping, then I heard a crash," said Alice. "As I was leaving the room, I heard a second crash. When we got to the stairs, grandma was there crying."

"Richard was collapsed at the bottom of the stair," I said. "When I checked his pulse, he was already dead."

Melissa witnessed more than we did. However, she started to cry midway through. Her testimony was slightly disjointed.

"I went upstairs to use the bathroom. Then I saw the other guest--the one who's a burglar--picking your" (she gestured towards me) "lock. Richard was also upstairs and he saw the burglar too. He chased the burglar down the hallway. When he was going down the stairs, he tripped and fell."

I thought about that for a moment. "Why was Richard upstairs?"

"He was smoking," Alice said. "Ever since I was little, he'd go to the balcony each night at 2am to smoke a cigarette."

"After Alice was born, he didn't want her to see him smoking. So he'd do it secretly, at night. He was a good man..."

Saying these words seemed to hurt her, digging into her like daggers, and she wiped her eyes with some tissues.

"I see," Alice said, looking down at her hands which were in her lap. Tears were wetting her eyes and threatening to fall again. "So, last night, grandpa went upstairs to get a smoke. As he was leaving, he ran across a burglar. He chased the burglar, but as he went down the stairs, he tripped and fell. The burglar ran away into the blizzard. And grandpa... he..."

I placed on a hand on Alice's shoulder, and another on Melissa's back. "He's in a better place now," I said, trying to comfort them.

We ate some leftovers. Then, we talked a bit and decided to move Richard's body to the bedroom downstairs. The mistress would sleep upstairs in Alice's room.

The mistress found a clean bedsheet. Alice and I used it to carry Richard to the bedroom.

As we carried him, I noted that he didn't have any bleeding wounds on his hands or legs or anything like that. There was on a deep wound on his head. In other words, the injury to his head killed him instantly, and he didn't suffer too much.

I was holding his legs, and I noticed that one of his socks looked odd. I looked closer and realized that a piece of fabric had been torn off of the white sock. I couldn't help but feel pity. The couple lived here in this place with modest utilities and clothing and food, simply because they loved this place and wanted to keep it going.

We left him on the floor with only the sheet underneath him. Then, we closed the door.

Alice and the mistress went back to their room. I stayed downstairs for a little bit longer, because I wanted to be alone. I watched the snow for a while, the snowflakes doing their wild dance, lashing against the world and obscuring many things from sight.

Finally I decided to go back up to my bedroom.

As I walked up the stairs, I noticed something strange. There was a streak of blood on one spot on the handrails. I frowned, staring at it. Had it always been there, and I just failed to notice?

At the top of the stairs, I noticed something even stranger. There was a rope. One end of it was tied to a pole on on the left of the stairs. It was long enough to stretch across and reach the right side.

Curiosity made me get down on my knees and look at it more closely. It was a very rough length of rope, with ropey splinters sticking out of it.

In fact, there was a very small piece of white fabric that was snagged on the splinter.

I knelt there for several more minutes, puzzling over these strange things that I found. However, I just couldn't figure out what this rope was, or what its purpose was.

I went to my bedroom with this mystery heavy on my heart.

It puzzled me so much that I suddenly felt exhausted, and I closed my eyes to get some shallow sleep.

I seemed to dream, but I also didn't. I still had thoughts flowing through my mind, but they became like water trickling down a stream. Naturally, somewhat disorganizedly, they flowed in my head. It seemed like I was thinking about the day's events, but I may also have been thinking of other things.

The innkeeper tripped, and it made a crashing sound. But weren't there two crashes that we heard? What made the other crash? Did it have to do with the blood on the handrails?

The fabric on the rope, I thought. The texture and color is exactly like the innkeeper's socks. And one of the socks was in fact missing a piece.

Then, dazedly, I woke up again. The time on my phone said it was 8pm. I closed my eyes and continued thinking for a little bit. Slowly, the bits and pieces came together in my mind. A hypothesis formed in my mind.

And as the realization of what it all meant dawned on me, I suddenly felt sick.

I left my room, knocked on Alice and the mistress's door, and asked them to meet me downstairs.

The innkeeper's death wasn't an accident. He was murdered.

Chapter three

After about thirty minutes, we had all gathered in the lobby. The mistress, Alice, me. There was a long, awkward silence.

Then I broke it.

"We've gathered here because Richard, the owner of this lodge, passed away last night.

"At first glance, his death seems like a mere accident. He had a routine where every night at 2am, he went upstairs to the secret balcony where he took a smoke.

"Last night, at 2:15am, he finished smoking and was about to go back downstairs to his bedroom. That's when he ran across another guest who was staying here. That guest was a thief and he was trying to pick my bedroom lock in order to rob me. Richard chased him. In his hurry, he tripped and fell down the stairs. This killed him instantly.

"However, I think there are certain suspicious details about this case. I think Richard may have been murdered."

"What?!" Alice said. "What the hell are you talking about?!"

"In order to understand the scenario that I'm proposing, I must first review and interpret the clues that led me to my conclusion. I think that that's the only way I can be understood."

I guided everyone to the foot of the stairs. "That night, the mistress, Alice, and I were all witnesses to the incident. We heard two loud crashes. One was Richard's fall, but what was the other one? I think the sliding bloody mark on this rail holds the answer."

"What," the mistress muttered. "But how?"

"This rail is very rough and has a lot of splinters. If someone was falling, and they grabbed onto it very tightly as they lurched forward, the splinters would cut them. This would leave a bloody mark like this.

"The person who grabbed the railing wasn't Richard. His body has no bleeding wounds, except for the injury on his head.

"I think it was the burglar who left this mark. He tripped right before he started down the stairs. As he tried to steady himself, Richard picked up his pace to catch him. However, Richard also tripped at the same spot. He wasn't able to grab onto the rail in time, and the fall killed him."

Alice frowned. "So they both tripped. These stairs are steep. So what?"

"This leads me to the second suspicious point. The rope tied around one of the rails at the top of the stairs. After examining it, I found some tiny white fabric on it. What was the rope doing there, and what was the white fabric?"

The mistress pursed her lips. "We don't have anywhere else to store it, so we just tied it there and left it."

I looked at her, and nodded. "Perhaps, but perhaps there is another possibility. In order to understand what I mean, we have to look at Richard's body."

Everyone became quiet as we walked into the downstairs bedroom. There was the body that was once a man named Richard, lying in the dark on a thin bedsheet.

I showed them his socks. One of the socks had a piece of fabric missing, towards the front and top.

"The fabric on the rope is the same color and texture as these socks. But how did the fabric get caught on the rope?"

Alice looked away and started to sob, because she couldn't bear to look at her father's body. The mistress was staring at me, wide-eyed.

The looks on their faces almost crushed me. This was tragic and horrible, and I didn't want to have to do this. However, I felt like I needed to unravel this tangled bush of thorns and let the truth come out.

"I think that the rope was originally tied on both ends, stretching across and hovering over the top of the stairs. It was a trip hazard, a trap. The next person to walk down the stairs would trip on that rope, the rope catching their ankle, and they'd fall. In the darkness, especially, nobody would see it.

"That's how the thief fell, despite his agility. When the innkeeper fell, a piece of his sock got snagged, leaving the fabric on the rope."

There was a long silence as they tried to process what I just said. In the darkness of the evening, the silence dragged out.

"But... but..." said Alice, her teeth clattering. "When we heard the crash and found the body, you went down the stairs to check his body. You didn't trip then."

"That's right," I said. "That's because the culprit untied one end of the rope before we got there. They knew about Richard's 2am smoke, and they tied the rope while he was smoking. Then, they lurked in the shadows and waited for him to come back and trip. Immediately after he fell, they quickly untied it.

"The culprit was deliberately targetting Richard. They knew about his evening smoke. They were there before Alice and I heard the commotion and arrived at the scene. And there is a person who fitsboth of these requirement, making her a suspect..." I turned and looked at her. She looked afraid. "Did you kill your husband, Melissa?"

The old woman didn't say anything, just looking at me, tears brimming in her eyes.

"This is ridiculous!" Alice said. "This is deranged! You're jumping to conclusions based on literally nothing. The rope and the fabric might've been there for any number of reason. The burglar was in a hurry and it was dark, so it makes sense that he missed a step, and so did my grandfather. And you've scared my grandma with I can't believe how you're just--"

"Alice," the old woman said softly.

Alice stopped. We all stopped and turned to look at her. She stumbled backwards, and collapsed against the walk. She looked tired, and sad, and all sorts of things. Then, she buried her face in her hands, hiding it.

Alice rushed over to her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Grandma, it's ok.

Melissa's shoulders shook, and so did her breath. "Alice, it's ok. Everything will be ok."

"Grandma--"

"When I first met him, we were both twenty-years-old. He was going to come to the city with me and build a life together. But when I visited his family's inn, I loved it so, so much. The beautiful mountains, the quietness, being able to meet all sorts of people... After talking about it, we decided that we would stay here in this inn and look after it."

She tried to wipe the tears from her cheeks with her hands, but there were too much, and the tears spilled over her fingers.

"It's been forty years. There's been rough times, sadness, fights. But there's also been so much happiness. We loved each other so much. When we went into debt, trying to keep the inn running, I was so scared. I was scared of losing the life that I had. I remembered that we had bought life insurance for Alice..."

Alice went limp. "Grandma, what are you saying?"

"I... I..." She reached up and touched her face. "Oh god, what have I done?"

"Grandma...?"

"......"

"No, no, this can't be..." Alice fell onto her knees and sobbed.

I got onto my knees as well and tried to comfort her. I felt so sad and I wished I could go back in time and stop all of this from happening. But no matter how I felt, his death was irreversible, locked-in, trapping all of us within it.

And that's the nature of death.

***

It took a few more days for the snow to clear. We were eventually able to go back to town. It took a bit for the police to travel to the inn, gather evidence, and return again. In the end, the mistress confessed to what she did and was charged with manslaughter with a plea bargain.

The inn was put up for sale, and Alice ended up going to college despite everything that's happened. I heard the inn was bought by a nature enthusiast, who wanted to work somewhere to be close to animals and the wilderness.

The relationship between Alice and her grandmother was completely ruined, as far as I knew. Alice didn't visit or send letters.

As for the burglar, he miraculously managed to survive the blizzard. Then, he managed to stay on the run for a full three years before getting caught. He was very good at getting away.

Meanwhile, I reunited with my girlfriend. She was so worried about me that she had called the police about me. She was really happy that I'm ok. We traveled back to the city after the vacation was over, and went back to our normal lives.

Still... whenever it snowed, I couldn't help but remember what happened in that inn, and feel a deep sense of an uncomfortable feeling that I can't describe.

[chatsworthbyrubes]

~Devonshire Palm and Lotus Tiara~

This extravagant diamond tiara was made for the Louise Duchess of Devonshire, the year after her marriage to the 8th Duke in 1893 when she was 61 yers old.

Louise was seen as a leader of fashion and society within her era, holding many balls at Devonshire House and was especially well known for the magnificent jewellery that she wore.

The tiara shown has a row of 13 scrolled palmettes (a fan-like shape of leaves on a palm tree), alternating with a lotus pattern. The upper section was made around 1893 and was set throughout with cushion-shaped diamonds. The base has a row of lozenge motifs set between two lines of more cushion shaped diamonds and dates from around 1897. It is mounted in silver and gold.

In order to make the tiara, the 8th Duke of Devonshire removed the diamonds in the Devonshire Parure and other heirlooms, such as the 6th Duke's Garter Star. These totalled 1,041 diamonds, to which Skinner added another 840. However, the piece was only pictured on the Duchess for a bunch of rare occasions.

The Tiara was also worn by Evelyn, Duchess of Devonshire at the 1911 Coronation of King George V, when she was Mistress of the Robes to Queen Mary, as well as the Coronation of King George VI in 1937. She also wore it for official portraits and galas during her husband’s tenure as Governor General of Canada.

In 1953, at the Coronation of Queen Elizabeth II, the Palmette tiara was seen on Mary, Dowager Duchess of Devonshire (daughter-in-law of Evelyn), who was known as the Mistress of the Robes to Queen Elizabeth II. She also wore the tiara in a portrait by Cecil Beaton, to State Openings of Parliament in the 1950 and the 1960s, as well as on State Visits to Sweden and The Netherlands, usually with her Opal Necklace (which could also be worn as a Tiara). Mary, Duchess of Devonshire continued to wear the tiara until she retired as Mistress of the Robes in 1965.

Harvard referencing:

Das Diamant Diadem der Herzogin von Devonshire: Lotosblüten -Palmetten (no date) Duchess of Devonshire DIADEM - TIARA| Diamond Palmette Tiara|Anthemium. Available at: https://www.royal-magazin.de/england/devonshire/duchess-devonshire.htm (Accessed: 20 September 2023).

The Derby Tiara, attributed to Skinner & Co., circa 1890 (no date) Sothebys.com. Available at: https://www.sothebys.com/en/digital-catalogues/power-image-royal-aristocratic-tiaras/the-derby-tiara-attributed-to-skinner-co-circa-1890 (Accessed: 20 September 2023).

Devonshire Palm and Lotus tiara (no date) Chatsworth House. Available at: https://www.chatsworth.org/visit-chatsworth/chatsworth-estate/art-archives/devonshire-collections/jewellery-gems-and-objets-de-vertu/devonshire-palm-and-lotus-tiara/ (Accessed: 20 September 2023).

Saad719 (2023) Duchess of devonshire’s tiaras, The Royal Watcher. Available at: https://royalwatcherblog.com/2016/09/24/duchess-of-devonshires-tiaras/#google_vignette (Accessed: 20 September 2023).

Theroyalpost (2015) The Devonshire Diamonds: The coronet, Tiara, & parure, The Royal Post. Available at: https://theroyalpost.wordpress.com/2015/05/24/the-devonshire-diamonds-the-coronet-tiara-parure/ (Accessed: 20 September 2023).

[jeyramarie]

Mr. & Mrs. Holland- (Mob! Tom Holland x Mob! Reader) part 3

summary: sometimes things just don’t go as planned... 

warning: smut (first time writing it, i hope it’s not shitty), cursing, fluff

w/c: 3,432

a/n: hey guys! my new trimester of nursing school just started completely which means that all the parts after this one won’t come as quickly. i’ll still be writing just not as fast. but anyway, happy reading everyone 🦋

prologue~ part 1~ part 2~

The next day rolled around, both Y/n and Tom stayed home from work. They needed a much deserved distraction from everything they have discovered. Y/n woke up first to go to the backyard and do some morning yoga. She did that everyday but that morning she felt extra relaxed since she wasn’t going to work. The yoga session was longer too, taking more time to meditate and pray to the heavens (a/n: or the universe, in case you don't believe) for tranquility, happiness and love. Tom on the other hand, enjoyed sleeping in. He would sleep the whole day if he could. He’s the kind of person that would eat breakfast at 4 in the afternoon cause he had just woken up. When Y/n was in her last minutes of meditation, Tom walked outside in his grey sweatpants, shirtless, no underwear due to the eventful night from before. He stood there for a few, hands in his pockets, watching his wife take deep breaths. The wind blowing through her hair as she meditated the stress and anxiety away. 

“Morning, love.” he said breaking the silence which made her open her eyes and turn to him.

“Good morning, honey.” she said smiling as she uncrossed her legs and started standing up. Tom stayed there, getting a great view of her ass. She stood up and skipped to him, giving him a tight hug. Y/n took away her face from his neck and stared into his eyes which made him kiss her immediately. Their lips moved slowly, savoring every move and shape of each other's lips. They fit together like puzzle pieces as if they were meant to touch since the beginning of all eternity. 

“Let’s go get some coffee.” she whispered against his lips as they parted from the kiss a bit. Tom chuckled and grabbed her hand, walking inside towards the kitchen. After a few minutes, they sat down at the dining table, drinking their coffee, eating their fruits and eggs while Tom read the newspaper. Y/n sat there and admired him the whole time. The way his freckles shone with the sun, the way his jaw moved as he chewed his food. She couldn’t imagine her life without him. 

“I forgot to tell you. We have to visit the docks later today..”

“What for exactly?” she said looking up from her plate. 

“When Harrison came to my office yesterday, we looked over all the buyers from this month. One of them has worked with Adam before. I’d like for both of us to check it out, maybe he’s intimidated by a woman.” he smiled and he grabbed her hand and rubbed his thumb against it. She chuckled and shook her head in disbelief. 

“Whoever‘s not intimidated by a female mob boss, is fucking insane.” Tom cackled making Y/n giggle and lean in to give him a small kiss. 

After breakfast, they started getting ready for their business outing. Y/n wanted to look intimidating so she went for the pant suit. Tom went for the suit of course but this one had a few golden details in the fabric. He was ready very quickly since his wife had to do her makeup and her hair. About 10 minutes later, she finally came downstairs. Wearing a black pantsuit with a red bralette underneath, red heels, a low bun with a few hairs framing her face and her purse and sunglasses in her hand. Tom was in complete awe, he always has been since the first time he met her. 

(flashback to the night they first met) 

Every important mob boss was there, mostly men, drinking and talking business. The only women there were the wives, mistresses and sexy waitresses. No one had really expected a woman to be boss. Everyone pictured them as accessories for men to “look pretty” or some sex toy. 

“So, Tom tell me. Don’t you have any arm candy?” a man asked him, playfully hitting his shoulder. 

“No. Not today.” Tom said, chuckling nervously as he scratched his eyebrow. 

“You know, you should find one soon. There’s nothing better than a celebration after these things.” another man smirked, grabbing the ass of the woman next to him and taking a sip from his champagne. Tom got bored of the conversation which made him look around at everyone. He was on the second floor looking down over the railing. That’s when every single jaw hit the floor when Y/n walked in. The only powerful female mob boss in the country. The room went silent as she strutted into the place. People started murmuring, not expecting her to show up since she had disappeared for some time prior. 

She was wearing a long red dress with a long slit on the side, her hair curled perfectly. Tom stared at her in awe, like time had stopped and he felt that his breath was taken away. Y/n looked up and caught him staring. They stared at each other for some time, feeling sparks as their eyes met. She looked away when a waitress tapped her shoulder to offer her a glass of champagne which of course she took. When she looked up again, Tom was gone. She frowned as she continued to look around, trying to find him. Suddenly, as she was standing in the middle of the room, someone tapped her shoulder. She quickly turned and met with the same chocolate colored eyes that made her melt. 

“Hello.” he said smiling making her smile too. 

“Hi.” 

“I’m Tom.” he said, extending his hand for her to shake. 

“Y/n.” she shook his hand as his face went serious for a bit. Not believing that this was the woman everyone feared. 

(end of flashback) 

She stood in front of him and smiled. 

“You ready?” he nodded and opened the front door for her to walk out. They finally made it to the car and started making their way towards the ports. 

“Can you give me a background check on who we’re gonna meet?” she asked, putting on her sunglasses. 

“His name is James Cavanaugh. This is the first time we ever make an exchange with him. That’s why I did the background check in the first place.” 

“And that’s when you saw he had worked with Adam before..” 

“Yep. For all we know Adam put him up to this so he could spy on us some more.” he said, running his hand through his hair and clenching his jaw in anger. 

“Well we’re not gonna let him do that.” Y/n said softly as she grabbed her husband’s hand. He looked at her and placed his other hand on her cheek, leaning in to kiss her. The kiss was quick, both of them sitting up straight again as the car tumbled into the port. The car came to a stop which caused Tom to open the door and quickly jogged around the car to help his wife out. He opened her door and she swung her legs out. Y/n stepped out and started walking towards the men standing on the dock, her heels clacking against the wooden surface. Tom was right behind her with his hand on her lower back. 

“Mr. Cavanaugh.” he said as they got closer to him. 

“Well, hello Tom. Good to see you.” Jame said, shaking Tom’s hand as he looked Y/n up and down. 

“And who may this beauty be?” he smirked, causing her to roll her eyes, thanks to her sunglasses, he didn’t see that. Tom was filled with rage at that moment. That’s his wife the guy is raging over. All he wanted to do at that moment was shoot James in the head.

“I’m Mrs. Holland.” she said with zero expression on her face. 

“Oh, the infamous Y/n. Well, it’s a privilege to finally meet you.” he said, smirking as he extended his hand, waiting for her to shake it. 

“I don’t shake hands, Mr. Cavanaugh.” she said and walked further down the dock. 

“Alright, well… let’s talk business.” he said, turning around as Tom made his way to his wife. 

“That is what we came for, didn’t we?” she said crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Yes, we did-“ 

“Then let’s get to it, James. We don’t have all day.” Tom said, interrupting him as he fiddled with his wrist watch. 

“Okay, well… let’s talk about the trade. Your best partners in exchange for my incoming shipments.” he said squinting his eyes due to the sun with his hands in his pockets. 

“What shipment?” Y/n asked, taking a piece of hair behind her ear. 

“Some exclusive guns from Canada. Some drugs too.” he said looking at the couple with nerves. They stayed quiet, Tom drawing patterns on Y/n’s lower back signaling her to start asking questions to see if he mentioned Adam. 

“Have you done this with anyone else?” Y/n asked seriously making Jame look at her and then at Tom. 

“Yeah. A couple times actually.” 

“With who?” Tom asked, gaining a questionable look from him. 

“Why is that so impor-“

“Because we only work with people we trust and if you mention someone we have worked with, that means we can trust you too.” she said a bit harshly interrupting him in the middle of his question. 

“What she said.” Tom smiled, tilting his head towards his wife and taking off his sunglasses and turning around to look at the ocean behind him. Y/n knew that made James think, she knew he was going to mention Adam. ‘Jackpot’ she thought, smiling internally. 

“I’ve worked with Adam Matthews… multiple times..” he said fidgeting with his fingers. 

“You hear that, honey? He’s worked with Adam.” Y/n said turning to Tom which made him turn and walk to her. 

“Oh well, that’s nice.” he said as he stood next to his wife with his hand on her lower back. 

“Do we have a deal or not?” James asked, feeling uneasy. He was desperate to know. 

“Well, James we do have to think about it. We can’t just jump into these things. You know this, being a businessman yourself.” she smiled devilishly and looked at her husband, who was smiling too. 

“We’ll get back to you, James. Very soon.” and with that, Tom grabbed Y/n’s hand and started walking towards the car. Leaving James alone on the dock, thinking about what just happened. The first thing he wanted to do was call Adam, to tell him that his plan wasn’t working. What he didn’t know was that the Holland’s driver put a tracker on his car. His secret location wasn’t going to be a secret anymore. 

The Holland’s made it home with bright smiles on their faces. Their plan was in motion, everything was going smoothly. Plus, they had the whole day to themselves. 

“That went well.” Y/n said putting down her purse on the kitchen counter as Tom took off his suit jacket. 

“Did you see how nervous he was?” he laughed as he rolled up his sleeves watching his wife step down from her heels.

“Yeah. I swear, I saw him sweating.” she chuckled and turned to her husband who was staring at her with a smirk.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she said putting a hair behind her ear. 

“Your intimidating side is really sexy… and hot.” Tom whispered as he walked to her grabbing her waist and burying his face in her neck. His lips were soft against it. He bit and sucked on the sensitive skin to mark her, making her moan a bit. 

“You only find me sexy and hot when I'm intimidating?” he quickly took his face out of her neck and looked at her. 

“I didn’t say that. You’re always sexy and hot and beautiful. Just… today you were extra sexy.. and hot… and beautiful.” he smiled and kissed her lips slowly, teasing her. She placed her hands on his shoulders, making him move his to her lower back, pulling her closer. The kiss got intense immediately, both hungry for each other’s touch. Tom grazed his tongue on her bottom lip making her grant access. Their tongues battled for domination as Tom unbutton her suit jacket, revealing her thin bralette. Her nipples hard with excitement, poking through the lace fabric. Tom moved his hand upward, very slowly until his thumb graced her sensitive breast making her jump at the sudden contact. She parted from him to breath as she placed her forehead against his. 

“We should go to our bedroom.” Y/n whispered, making him smile. Tom then grabbed her hand and pulled her with him to go upstairs. Once inside, Tom pushed Y/n against the door placing his lips on her again. Her hands went to his hair pulling it slightly as his hands went to her back to unhook her bralette. 

Y/n bit Tom’s lip sensually making him groan in pleasure. She then moved her hands to his chest and started pushing him towards the bed. The back of his knees hit the mattress making him fall flat on his back. He moved one of his arms under his head to get a better view of his wife who was starting to take off her clothes. She unbuttoned her pants, letting them fall to the floor which left her in her underwear. Y/n moved her hand to her back and unhooked her bralette, letting it slide off her arms. Tom was drooling at this point, he couldn’t believe that someone so beautiful and perfect was with him. She slowly moved her hands down her torso and played with the hemline of her lace thong. He quickly sat up and grabbed her wrist, pulling her to straddle his lap. 

“I wanna take it off, darling.” he muttered against her lips while playing with the g string on her lower back. Y/n placed her hands on his jaw, pulling him into a slow passionate kiss. His hand roamed all over her back, ass and hips. Feeling every bump and line of her skin. She started moving her hips against him, making his member grow in size quickly. A moan got caught up in her throat as Tom’s hard member rubbed against her bundle of nerves. He quickly turned, getting Y/n under him to start grinding harder on her making her whimper in desperation. 

“Don’t tease anymore, please. I want you.” she moaned against his lips making him groan and stand up. Tom quickly unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down along with his underwear. He looked up and saw his wife biting her lip and rubbing her thighs together to create some kind of friction. That almost made him cum right then and there. Y/n sat back up as Tom leaned down which made her grab his face to pull him into a kiss. Her legs immediately opened making him fall between them perfectly. Her nails scratched his back muscles yearning for him to be inside her. His lips moved to her neck, down to her breast onto her stomach.

“Baby, I don't want foreplay.” she whimpered making him look up at her and smirk.

“No foreplay?” 

“No, I need you… please.”  she said against his lips as he climbed on top of her once again. Tom grabbed his member and aligned it with her entranced. She was soaking wet which helped him slide in easily. Y/n gasped as he stretched her out the deeper he went. He halted his movements letting her get used to the size. Of course, this isn't their first time but every time was just as overwhelming. 

“You okay?” he whispered against her lips making her nod and give him a peck. Tom moved his hips back and moved them forward again making Y/n moan. One of her hands stayed on his hair and the other went down to his ass to give him a squeeze, making him go faster. His pace became faster as he sucked her right nipple making her moan into his ear. 

“Oh my- fuck, Tom.” the room was filled with moans and praises as his pace continued to go faster. He groaned into her neck as she clenched around him making his dick twitch inside. Y/n started to move her hips trying to meet his thrusts. Her back arched as his member hit her g-spot repeatedly. 

“Fuck, darling. You feel- fuck- so good.” he groaned as she gave him pornographic moans which made him go faster. Slapping sounds filled the room as Y/n clenched around him. He suddenly pulled away making her open her eyes quickly, giving him a questionable look. 

“I want you on top of me.” he whispered, making her bite her lip as he moved to sit against the headboard. She straddled his waist and licked her hand, gaining a confused look from her husband. Y/n grabbed Tom’s hard member and started moving her hand up and down slowly, running her thumb over the tip. 

“Fuck.” he groaned placing his hands on her hips, watching his wife’s move a bit faster. After a few more hand movements, Y/n moved forward and lowered herself onto the hard member. She went slowly, feeling him stretch her a lot more from this position. Her head fell back with a moan as Tom attacked her neck and chest. She moved her hips inna circling motion, then started to lift them up and down. He moved his hands to her ass, helping her with the pace. 

“Oh fuck, baby. You feel so good, so tight.” he said against her breast as he licked and bit her sensitive nipple. She placed her hands on his chest for leverage to bounce faster, making her tits move up and down. Tom looked up at her in awe, pieces of hair falling from her bun, her face expressing an intense feeling of pleasure, her lips parted as she moaned his name over and over. He was so whipped for her. Her entrance got tighter as she got closer to her climax. 

“Baby… I’m close.” she whimpered into his neck getting lost in the feeling. 

“Come around me, darling. Fuck- please, I wanna feel ya.” he muttered into her shoulder after biting it. He then moved to grab her ass and thrust fast into her making her scream. 

“Oh fuck!” she moaned loudly as he thrusted faster than before. Her moans got louder as his movements got faster until they both reached their climax. Y/n fell on top of Tom, both of them completely out of breath. She slowly rolled off of him and closed her eyes. They stayed there for a bit, regaining their breaths. Y/n then sat up and wobbled to the bathroom making Tom giggle.

“Shut up, Holland!” she shouted from the toilet making him laugh more. She walked out and got into bed with him, laying her head on his chest while their legs tangled up together. 

“I love you.” he muttered with his lip on her hairline as she drew patterns on his chest. 

“I love you too.” she said looking up at him, then moving to peck him on the lips. 

“I don’t wanna ruin the moment but we have to check the tracker.” Tom said, playing with her hands.

“I know… but can we stay like this longer? We can check it later, my computer is right there.” she said softly pointing at her dresser. 

“Alright then.” he mumbled and pulled her closed feeling each other's skin. They stayed that way for a few hours. Talking about random things about their childhood, the places they wanna travel to and just things they love about each other. The couple was in the middle of a conversation when Tom’s phone started ringing. It was Harrison. He then took his arms off of Y/n and stretched to the side to grab the phone. 

“Hey, mate.”

“Tom, where are you?” 

“I’m at home, why?” he asked, smiling looking at his wife who was staring at him with heart eyes. 

“Get your ass to Le Royale, right now!” 

“Why? what’s going on?” 

“James Cavanaugh is dead.” 

“What?!” Tom shouted, making Y/n sit up. 

‘What’s wrong?’ she mouthed 

‘James.’ he mouthed back leaving her confused as he listened to Harrison rant. 

“They found him in Adam’s office this morning.”

“Where’s Adam?”

“Nobody knows. We have to be really careful, Tom. No one is safe right now.”

mr&mrs.h: @ilovefandoms102​ @themaddies-obx​ @guillerminacaba​ @teenwishes08​ @runawayolives​ @theartisticqueen​ @quacksonlover81​ @wonderfulfluffer​ @spidernerdsblog​

[creativeashproductions]

Suddenly Stuck With You // Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Twenty-one years ago Owen Patrick Joyner was born into a life with a bright future and career bringing him two best friends. His best friends Charlie and Jeremy drag the blonde actor to Vegas to celebrate his first legal drink in America. What was supposed to be a weekend for the boys quickly changed all because a certain Canadian met a girl and drank a ton. Now they have to deal with the consequences of their actions.

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, allusion to sex, heartbreak, angst and fluff

Words: 7.1k

A/N: Originally this was going to be a mini series but I can’t be bothered to stretch out this idea. I’m sorry, I just feel like this is shit already and I haven’t felt that happy with my writing lately.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

Fox and Hound Pub, Las Vegas July 2021

“Happy birthday man!” The voice of his castmate, work roommate and best friend announced.

Owen’s eyes found Charlie’s glittering viridescent eyes meeting Owen’s bright blue.

“Why did we have to celebrate my twenty-first in Las Vegas, Charlie?” Owen questioned with one hand, cupped around his first legal drink in America. 

Owen had had his fair share of beers in his life both in America and his visits in Germany after he turned sixteen. Charlie and Jeremy had been the ones to drag the actor to Vegas to celebrate. Owen didn’t see the significance of celebrating in a different state than Los Angeles.

“C’mon! You’re twenty-one!” Charlie exclaimed pushing a beer across the table in the bar they had found. Relatively lowkey the boys hadn’t been stopped for pictures by JATP fans thankfully.

Owen nabbed the mug from Charlie’s calloused hand to take a swig of the drink to Charlie’s delight with a sigh. The tall actor scanning the moderately filled bar, the world was coming back to terms after the pandemic officially ended.

“There you go!” The Canadian adventurer spoke nodding his head to the live music a local band was playing.

Owen’s eyes found someone he recognized from a show on the History Channel his dad was incredibly into for several years. Two men sat in a booth next to the bar with food in front of them with the dark-haired one wearing a shirt with a logo. It was hard to make out, but he believed it was for a famous pawn shop in Vegas.

“Drink up. I got the tab tonight.” Charlie informed his distracted best friend, “This is gonna be an incredible year. Shooting for season two with the gang back together.”

“Hey, sorry about that. Care and I had a scheduled live on Insta to do. Happy birthday, man.” Jeremy sat in the booth next to Charlie, still living on the high of seeing his wife.

“This is gonna be a trip to remember,” Charlie announced tapping mugs with his two fellow castmates and best friends.

Oh, how right Charlie was.

Your best friend lifted the wineglass to her red lips with a mischievous look in her eye that concerned you as usual. Cherry, nicknamed for her fierce love of cherries, had a wild streak that had mellowed after graduating college last year. Cherry had invited you to stay with her for a month to recover from a devastating loss. The offer hadn’t entirely left her lips before you bought a plane ticket from Heathrow Airport in England to Las Vegas.

You had met Cherry in your teens through an exchange program set up between your schools a few years back. Even since you two met at sixteen, you had been best friends and unable to get rid of the other.

“Why are we here?” You asked, tapping a manicured nail freshly done at a spa courtesy of Cherry. Of course Cherry chose a shade of red as per usual while you had chosen a traditional white tip French Manicure.

“I know the breakup was tough, but you need to let loose.” Cherry’s hand reached over to squeeze yours. The sympathetic smile irritating you for god knows what number of time it was.

Averting your eyes, you found yourself scanning the pub with barely any attention but you wanted to escape the warm amber brown of your friend. You loved Cherry, but you wanted to mourn the loss of your relationship within your own time and way.

“I need another drink!” You called over the loud music before pushing away from the table to head to the bar.

Ordering your favourite drink, you leaned against the dark wood with your arms crossed and a faraway gaze. Unaware of the man waiting next to you for his own drink.

“Hey!” The male spoke, bringing your attention to his soft hazel gaze.

Your e/c eyes finding the man speaking with a kind and absolutely breathtaking smile framed by the scruff his face sported. Facial hair sometimes turned you off if it wasn’t worn styled for the individual. This guy, however, pulled it off with the brunette moustache matching the medium-length head of hair.

“Hi.” You softly replied gracefully grabbing the drink when the barkeep set it down before hustling down the counter to another customer, “Am I in your way?”

“No. I already got my drink. You looked lost, and I saw the bartender coming. I didn’t want anyone slipping you something.”

“Thank you…”

“Charlie.” The man spoke, holding out his hand to you with his smile still on his cheerful expression. Your hand slid into his warm grip.

“Y/N.”

You and Charlie retreated to an empty table deep in conversation with such ease it felt like you had known each other for years. You learnt he was living in LA, but originally from Canada, a province called New Brunswick.

Charlie was enthralled as you told him how you had been born and raised in America for the first ten years of your life. After age ten, you moved to England for your mom’s job offer and settled in your father’s childhood hometown; he was originally from England but met your mother on vacation in California.

While you conversed, Cherry found you entirely focused on the male with an expression she hadn’t seen in ages. Her eyes floated by to you periodically for your safety until you sent her a text.

You: Sorry, I ditched you. I got caught up talking with Charlie.

Cherry sent a response back before paying your tabs and heading to her apartment a few blocks away from Fox and Hound Pub. Her heart was excited for how the night would pan out because the sexual tension could be felt across the duo’s room. She was confident you wouldn’t make any stupid decisions.

Oh, how wrong she was.

A hiss preceded the deep groan as a group of construction workers pounded away in your skull painfully. The back of your eyelids painted red from the sunlight pouring into the room from the open blinds.

Scrubbing one hand over your eyes, you slowly sat up with a satisfying stretch after a well-rested sleep. The cool air from the air conditioner raising goosebumps on your bare skin…wait a minute bare skin? The slightest sound of the sheet rustling together, freezing you in place. Firstly, you glanced down at your bare chest before sliding your eyes over to the left of the bed.

Eyes equally large the man from last night, Charlie, cried out when he sat up too quickly. The sheets pooled around his bare waist.

“Okay. Definitely didn’t wake up in my own bed.” You muttered leaning over to find your abandoned shirt on the floor.

Pulling it on despite the stare from Charlie’s hazel eyes, you scoured the room for the rest of your clothes. The room was silent as Charlie slid on his clothing like you did before you stood covered up in the hotel room.

“So, obviously, we slept together. Do you remember if we used-“Charlie started to ask. Your mouth opening to end his sentence.

“I’m on the pill. We used a condom.” You informed him equally as relieved you hadn’t made a stupid decision, “Thankfully even fully sloshed we used protection. We didn’t make a stupid decision.”

At least you hooked up with a really nice guy instead of a scummy guy only in it for his own pleasure and disregarding yours. Vague memories from the night in the sheets swayed you into believing the charming man was more of a giver than a receiver.

Charlie’s mouth opened he felt a new weight barely discernable, but he felt it, “Uh…guess again.”

Eyes furrowing you found the ring on his finger with shame, “Oh my god, you’re married?!”

Holy shit, you slept with a married man. You’re a homewrecker you thought to yourself getting further worked up. What if this guy had kids. Not noticing your feet had started pacing the room.

“I wasn’t yesterday morning.” Charlie faltered keeping his eyes on the cheap ring he definitely hadn’t been wearing yesterday. His eyes moving to look at the matching wedding band on your left hand, bringing you attention to it as well.

“Well, fuck.” The deep sigh guiding awareness from the male to the weary posture that came with the heartbreak.

When Cherry invited you to visit and take solace in your best friend, you never expected to wake up from a one night stand turned more. Tears built with the embarrassment of crying in front of his stranger that hadn’t asked for a morning with a hangover and a new wife.

“Whoa! Hey, we can get it annulled.” Charlie stuttered rushing over to draw you into his strong arms with such gentle care it melted your heart. The leftovers that hadn’t shattered to your toes from the failed relationship you escaped the UK for.

“This is a mess.” You sighed birthing an unintentional word vomit, “I left the UK to visit my best friend, Cherry. She brought me to the bar to cheer me up and instead of attempting the ‘to get over someone you have to get under someone’ I fuck that up as well. I get married.”

Charlie’s hazel gaze widened at the revelation, “You broke up with someone?”

“More cliché. He’s a rich frat boy in his fifth year of college, he’s brilliant but chose to stay for the frat house. He got a girl pregnant, and now he’s in a forced engagement.” The smile you hoped was strong came out wobbling, “Then he asked me to be his ‘official’ real relationship. An embellished way of being the secret girlfriend/mistress.”

Charlie winced, leaning back to stare down, “How long ago was this?”

“Around seven months? I kept it quiet for a while. No one knew until last month. I’ve gotten a lot of pity even if I’m over him but not the betrayal.” Charlie whistled lowly with a nod and a particular look in his eyes.

“This is gonna come out of the left-field entirely, but what if we check out the laws on Vegas weddings? See if we fit the annulment or if we need a divorce? If we need a divorce, we can play it out to make his regret his decision and get everyone off your back?”

The refusal just about dropped from your tongue before something changed, “Let’s do it.”

As Charlie quickly get ready, he nabbed his phone from the charger by the bed before he slipped his hand in yours. He answered your confusion with the excuse of getting used to each other. Instead of fighting the blatant denial, you followed him to his rented car for the week to give him directions to Cherry’s apartment.

“So, what’s our story?” You asked the man, “We don’t know each other that well.”

“My full name is Charlie Jeffrey Gillespie. I’m Canadian but living in Los Angeles for work, I’m here for my best friend Owen’s twenty-first birthday with our other best friend, Jeremy. I’m twenty-two turning twenty-three in August.” Charlie spitfire navigating the streets of Vegas with practised ease.

“You already know my full name. I’m twenty-three as of a few months prior. You already know I moved from America to England over a decade ago.” The hesitation came from telling Charlie the career you had had since you turned twenty.

The topic of jobs was evaded as you learnt about each other’s likes and dislikes in a crash course to convince Cherry. Just as Charlie started to list his siblings, his phone rang through the car’s Bluetooth.

“I’m guessing that’s the Owen you came to Vegas with?” You questioned flicking your gaze between the Caller ID and your husband. God even thinking of having a husband was incredibly odd.

“Yeah. I have to answer.” Charlie’s exuded nerves with his fingers tapping the steering wheel, “Can you play along?”

He didn’t wait for an answer before clicking the accept.

“Dude, where are you? We were supposed to get food together? I have a wicked hangover.” The voice of this Owen spoke with a tinge of annoyance you only caught with your training.

“I met Y/N.” Charlie infused his voice with the nerves and a slight change to his voice that impressed you as he stepped into a set of shoes in his chest of roles.

“Who? Is that the girl from last night? The one you had that drinking challenge with?” Owen questioned from his side of the phone settled at a table with Jeremy nursing a coffee for his hangover.

“I haven’t told anyone, but after Jeremy’s wedding, it made me feel like I was missing something? I signed up for a dating app, and with filming, I forgot about it. About six months ago, I met someone, and we’ve constantly been talking.”

“That’s why you refused the blind dates from Sav and me? Not that you wanted to focus on work.” Jeremy interjected, “You should have told us, man. We wouldn’t judge you.”

“I know that, but we all blew up after the show. I just wanted to keep this between us until we knew for sure but guys…this girl is the One.” Charlie chuckled, shaking his head at the irony of already being married to you.

“We’re happy. So, did you want to take me to Vegas so you could meet her?” Owen questioned with a pit in his stomach of Charlie’s motives not being only for him.

“I’m in the car with her. She’s sending a few emails for work and blasting music. I can hear it from the driver’s seat.” Charlie joked to the boys with the lie slipping quickly, “Hey! Y/N, sweetheart.”

“Hm?” You interject with such ease, Charlie wondered if you were an actor as well. The practised and on beat performance, “Oh! Hi, sorry. I’m Y/n, you must be Owen and Jeremy? Charlie’s talked about you guys. Congratulations on your wedding Jeremy.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Jeremy lightly laughed, shaking his head at the voice coming from Owen’s phone on speaker.

“Happy birthday Owen. I wish I could have met you in person to wish you a happy birthday, but Charlie and I tend to forget to tell each other where our trips happen! It was such a shock to see him last night.” Just as Charlie had used affected nerves, you played up the loved up role, “My best friend and I almost chose a different pub than Fox and Hound.”

Owen and Jeremy’s grins grew at the genuine care in your voice as you continued speaking before Charlie interrupted you.

“Sweetheart I think they get it!” Charlie laughed with a glittering of stars in his eyes, “It was shocking to see Y/n in Las Vegas of all the 50 states. This week has been the best. Getting to bring my best friend to Vegas for his big twenty-one and meeting the love of my life in person?”

“Charlie’s dropping me off at my best friends. You’ll have him again in an hour. I hope you have a wonderful weekend Owen.” You finished unknowingly winning them over at the care in your voice and the happiness you brought out in Charlie.

Owen ended the call with a quick goodbye, leaving the rented car quiet between the new husband and wife.

“That went better than I expected.” Charlie admitted with a soft smile on his lips only to drop at your expression, “What?”

“Our next obstacle in convincing my best friend this relationship is real.”

“I’m sure it will go-“

“She’s an extremely successful criminal prosecutor who graduated high school a year early and fast-tracked through college.”

“Well, shit,” Charlie stated, leaning back in his seat as the entire situation hit him that he had married a stranger.

Charlie may be able to fool his friends but his family? His mother to be specific would immediately know what was up. The young Canadian had always been open on one day getting married surrounded by his family and have his parents there. Dropping this bomb on his family could only go one way: terrible.

“I’m a good actor. I’m sure we can convince her. We’ll get together with her tomor-“

“Unfortunately, I’m meeting with her in a few hours.” You revealed with a sheepish smile on your pretty features. Charlie could feel his heart drop in dread and fear at how the hand given wasn’t in his favour.

The drive was quiet as dread filled the two individuals as the distance was eaten up between the car and the apartment that housed an intelligent woman. Cherry Parker had only been working at the firm for a year with a clear future as a partner within ten years. Cherry with perfect grades in high school and high percentages in college and a perfect smile. A natural at finding people’s ticks she would be near impossible to deceive.

“We could turn around. Make an excuse to be introduced through the phone.” Charlie supplied, biting his lip, “Oh my god. She’s not gonna kill me, is she?”

“No.” You swiftly told the spiralling man, “She’d kill me and frame you.”

Maybe that wasn’t the best to calm the man down as he freaked out more, “Oh my god. What are we gonna do!?”

The apartment loomed as the car came to a stop outside just as the individual wearing seafoam green peacoat stepped to the entrance. Her blunt bob of caramel brown hair and unique earrings screaming that it was Cherry.

“That’s her.” You breathed as Charlie parallel parked in between a compact car and an SUV in front. Jerry, the doorman, waved with his beaming smile that reminded you of a jolly man just as he had since you had first visited Cherry in her apartment.

Jerry mumbled towards Cherry before she turned swiftly on her black pumps notorious to her work attire. Since her first year of law school, she had gone through two pairs and adored them with her new income.

The woman rushed over as your door opened with the help of Charlie, how you didn’t notice he had turned the car off and walked to your side, appalled you. The 5’8 male was shoved to the side as Cherry tugged you into her arms with a scathing glare at Charlie.

 “I don’t know who you are or how much you rocked her world, but it’s been hours. I thought you kidnapped her.” Cherry hissed at the male with her brown eyes flaring with anger that made both you and Charlie flinch.

“Whoa! We got stuck in traffic, and Charlie’s friend called.” Your hands raised in defence at the pointed glare now directed at you. The amber-brown eyes scanned your form and other than the apparent walk of shame appearance, you looked fine.

Cherry’s red lips parted for the usual questions she gave to all her friends after one-night stands. With a subtle shake of your head, Cherry tabled the questions for later before locking her eyes on the newcomer.

“Cherry Parker. And what’s the name of the guy that plastered a smile on her face?” Cherry questioned, holding out her hand to him.

“Charlie Gillespie. It’s nice to meet you.” Charlie replied with that charming smile that melted your heart. It didn’t appear to melt Cherry with the thick skin she developed first in her family and then as a lawyer.

“Likewise. Well, thank you for delivering her safe.” Cherry spoke hand, reaching for your own impatient for all the details she would demand. Her words failed when her amber gaze peered at the near-identical faces, “What did you do?”

The demand startled the two individuals before the attorney began ushering the duo in the building you had been staying at. Her red nail stabbing the golden-hued elevator surrounded by emerald green displaying a vintage colour scheme.

“Please tell me it’s not as bad as senior year?” Cherry pleaded massaging the bridge of her nose with her free hand. The other clenching her briefcase so tight the knuckles had turned bleach bone white.

“What happened senior year?” Charlie asked following the two best friends into a spacious apartment that could fit two of his in it. His hazel eyes catching the unspoken conversation between the two best friends.

“Not important.” Cherry sighed eyes, lowering to your fingers, “Of course. Vegas. You eloped. Jesus Y/N, you know how your family is.”

Catching the confusion from Charlie, you elaborated for Cherry, “My family is incredibly strict and old fashioned. Divorce isn’t accepted in my family for anything less than the most serious scenarios.”

“Drunk eloping in Vegas? Practically get prepared for silent judgemental stares from Nana and drowning disappointment.” Cherry sighed, pushing a strand of her caramel brown locks behind her ear.

“I have a plan for that. We can pretend to be married before amicably divorcing later. We can figure out the details for a reason later in future. We already started the ruse.” Charlie admitted seating himself at the island in the spacious kitchen his mother would dream of cooking in.

Charlie could already tell just how successful Cherry was with her apartment and her outfit that dripped money. Her kindness, however, set her on a different level to the people Charlie had encountered with the same dollar signs.

“Of course,” Cherry grumbled digging around for drinks. Charlie fully anticipated it to be some kind of fancy wine, but he was proven wrong.

Cherry had taken out two different kinds of beer from the fridge, along with cold mugs straight from the freezer.

“What just because I’m dolled up you think I drink strictly wine? I have that for my mother and sister when they visit.” Charlie barely caught the eyeroll at Cherry’s mention of her family as she turned to you.

“Besides, I’m my father’s daughter.” You cheered cracking open your choice into the mug with skilled ease. The foam perfectly dealt with it brought a smile to Charlie’s face.

“Okay, so this ruse. What did you do so far?”

“My friends think she and I met on a dating app seven months ago and coincidently ran into each other last night at the bar. We’ve kept it private because of my job-“

“-along with Y/N’s job.” Cherry simply spoke raising the rim of her mug to her lips, “Okay, there’s no way you’d sign up on an app after Harvey. So, I went behind your back and made one for you.”

“Then Charlie messaged me after I found out. It started off as apologizing that he chose my profile. It started a friendship that turned into a relationship.”

“We did Facetime dates before becoming exclusive, and you wanted to ensure it was something that would last longer than a fling.” Charlie inserted with a beaming grin as he felt into ease with the two girls before him.

“I think we got a story for you two. Just two rules: One, don’t go falling in love with each other and two, don’t get pregnant.” Cherry joked sitting in the barstool across from you and Charlie. Her red lips revealing white teeth, one tooth with a tiny chip out of it from high school.

The rest of the days’ Charlie was in Las Vegas he alternated between his friends and you with the odd time he invited you to dinner with them. There was such ease between Charlie and you that hadn’t be there even with your ex Harvey. Unfortunately, the time in Las Vegas dwindled down until you were dropping the boys off at the airport.

“I’ll call you when I get home.” Charlie mumbled in the earshot of his friends, “Whirlwind wedding-“

“Married.” Owen scoffed in disbelief once more having found out at dinner last night that included colourful words. Jeremy had been placed in silent shock seeing the real matching wedding bands.

“In a month, you’ll fly out to England to help me pack up the flat and then we’ll fly to see your family for your cousin’s wedding.” You finished for the man with a beaming grin that had steadily lost its fake appeal. It quite literally felt like you had known Charlie for longer than a few days.

“It was really nice meeting you. I hope Charlie can convince you to come visit my wife and me. You and Carolynn would hit it off.”

“Could I bring Bindi?” Owen joked as he tugged you into a hug as soon as Jeremy had released you. Charlie was quick to drag you back into his embrace, even adding a kiss to your forehead.

The airport speakers announced the second warning of their flight number boarding rather suddenly in which the trio frantically rushed. The feeling of your stomach dropped took you by surprise just as much as the manicured hand of Cherry.

 “You okay?” Cherry asked softly sliding her hand down your arm to clutch yours in hers. It was an act of comfort you both had done throughout your friendship, whether it be uncomfortable situations or heartbreak.

“I feel like I’ve known him years instead of days. Cherry, I think I’m in danger of falling for him.” You fully admitted turning your head to meet her concerned brown orbs.

“Sweetheart, you’ve never been good at doing no feelings.” Cherry replied with a squeeze of your hand, “He feels the same. Now we need you to get to your gate since you’re ditching me.”

“As much as I would adore staying here. I need to get back to England to finish packing my flat.” You informed Cherry with a small grin as her red lips parted in a gasp at your announcement.

You had temporarily relocated back to the US at eighteen when you were recruited into the CIA, and then you were sent to England for work. It was very under the cover, and Cherry knew the basics but not the entirety of your career.

“You’re coming back!” Cherry cheered grinning at what could be the best news of the week for the lawyer. No more fumbling of time zones and long distances between phone calls leading to relying on messaging.

“I am!” You beamed right back, “I’ll move to Washington for a year and then hopefully I can be transferred to Los Angeles. As much as I love Las Vegas, it isn’t the place I want to live.”

“It would make sense to move to LA since Charlie is there. You could even use the marriage being the reason you’re moving instead.” Cherry offered with her lips turned up, yet her brown eyes didn’t glitter.

Cherry missed having you around like back in high school. Living apart sucked for the two best friends but at least you would be in the same country. 

“This is insane. I still can’t believe I’m married.” You whispered, staring up at the high ceiling of the airport. You relied on your instincts to walk in the busy airport to your gate.

“I wasn’t even there.” Cherry snorted walking in complete sync until you both came to a stop at your gate. Her eyes saddened further after so many days spent together when she wasn’t working, “I’m gonna miss you.”

“Knowing my mother. She’ll be planning, and as she’ll say it, a real wedding for Charlie and I.”

Another lingering hug with the caramel brunette was the last for a while as more and more distance came between you. Metres changed to different continents within hours, and suddenly you felt more alone than ever.

The rain was drizzling in London, a welcome change to the blistering heat Vegas had given you in the days you had been there. However, the most welcome sight was the six-foot-one lean frame of your father leaning against his pride and joy. The bright metallic blue with two very wide vertical stripes up the hood of it had been a staple in your family since you were twenty.

The blue Shelby Cobra had been challenging to find, but it was worth the massive grin on Theodore Y/L/N’s face. You and your mother had joined forces with your uncles to get it for your Dad, and one of them was a mechanic that did most of the work.

“Dad!” You yelled, jumping into his arms. Dad’s grip tightened around your shoulders with his face smushed into your neck.

“Darling!” He exclaimed just as he did no matter how long it had been since you saw each other. You were closest with him from father-daughter days watching football (the European version of soccer).

“Mum at home?” You questioned as he placed the small amount of luggage in the tiny boot of the car. His e/c eyes, the ones you inherited from him, twinkled with mischief and a wink.

“You didn’t hear it from me, but there’s a surprise.” He spoke ushering you into the passenger seat on the left side of the car. It was still jarring driving on the opposite side of the road in America.

“Another one to sway me from moving to Washington?” You retorted to the tall male in the driver’s seat. At the mention of moving his smile dimmed like it did when you flew to see Cherry for a while.

As he drove down the streets, your eyes scoured his features as if it had been years instead of mere weeks. He had been in Germany for business for a week when you flew out to Las Vegas. His hair still had the dark locks with grey mixed throughout as if had been since he was in his late twenties. The laugh lines still the same as they had been previously, but the most important thing was that he was still healthy.

Ted Y/L/N had beaten a severe bout of sickness a few years ago that had taken months of recovery. It was just second nature to check him before anything else.

“How’s Cherry.”

“Living happily with her success story.” You piped up, finding it would be the perfect place to start planting Charlie’s existence. Your father glanced over slightly confused as you continued, “After Harvey, Cherry signed me up for a dating app. I hit it off with someone, and I’ve been dating them ever since.”

“A dating app.” He questioned glancing over, “Aren’t those what people use to sleep around? Nothing wrong with having sex but isn’t that what the apps are predominantly used for?”

Your lip was taken between your teeth, “Some of them are. The one that Cherry did was surprisingly more about human connection. He’s originally from Canada but moved to Los Angeles for work.”

“Hm.” Ted hummed keeping his entire focus on the road, “And are you okay with this so soon after-“

“I never acknowledged this, but I waited a few months before I told you that Harvey and I broke up. I hit it off with Charlie, and well I’ve never been so in love before.”

“I sense there’s a chapter in this new love that I’m not going to be thrilled about. Out with it.” He ordered momentarily glancing over to see you sheepishly grinning, “Are you preg-“

“I married Charlie-“

To both your father’s and your horror the sound of the Shelby’s tires screeching reached your ears. The car skidded to a stop in the middle of the street with yelps coming straight from your surprised mouth. Dad’s eyes blinking owlishly at the road.

“You’re married? To someone, I’ve never even met?” The question was croaked from the middle-aged man staring straight ahead. The car slowly moved down the road as Dad applied less pressure to the pedal.

“It was so fast, but I swear you’ll meet him. He’s flying out to help me pack, and we’ll fly out to Washington. You’ll love him.” You gushed ignoring the smart of guilt at lying to the first man that had ever truly loved you.

The father that had learnt how to do your hair and supported you in everything you did; for the first few years, he had been a stay at home dad. Your mother was the one that worked and then when you got to the right age, your father returned to work. He had taught you how to ride a bike and drive, the police didn’t need to know you were driving years before you legally could.

“Your Nan is going to be pissed.” He snorted, shaking his head, “You’ll be throwing him to the wolves at the reunion.”

The reunion you had completely forgotten about. Shit.

A month later brought Charlie to your small half-packed flat in London and then straight to your parents’ house in the country. The country home had been in your family for years before your parents moved out of the city full time.

“Okay. So, your five-year-old cousin is adamant he be called Agent Jack because he works for James Bond. Don’t mention football, which is soccer in the US, or else World War III between your Nan and great-aunt Dottie will happen.”

“Oh! My mom loves ice hockey! She grew up playing until she was in high school!” You gasped glancing over at Charlie in the passenger seat of the car. He’d arrived two days ago ahead of schedule to get rested for the reunion.

This morning he had spent longer getting ready with his hair meticulously styled and his clothes chosen to fit the weather and the event. No matter how much you had soothed him, the nerves still flared. This wasn’t meeting your SO’s parents, this meeting his wife’s family who had no clue about him.

“Do I call your Dad, Mr. Y/L/N or Sir?” Charlie questioned as the country zipped by in the clear window of the car. His fingers tapped the beat to the JATP song ‘Now or Never’ on the black denim of his jeans.

“Go with Sir.” You replied, reaching one hand over to grasp his in your hand, “My Nan will interrogate you about where we would have kids. Aunt Dottie will ask if you got me pregnant and that’s I’ve never said anything about us.”

“I…really? They’ll ask that?” Charlie choked turning to face you entirely with a face pale as bleached bone. The wince you offered was enough for him to relax into the leather of the car.

“Their old ladies that live on gossip and personal questions. But don’t underestimate Nan if she gets plastered and demands an arm wrestle. You won’t win.”

The car rolled to a stop on the rocky drive filled with other vehicles of all colours and types. The house was the background feature of the menagerie of cars. It was a gorgeous colour your mom had spent weeks trying to find in countless shops before she saw it three hours away. Flowers were strategically placed for viewing pleasure.

“Your house is beautiful.” Charlie breathed circling the car to open your door without prompt just it had become second nature to him. His hazel eyes moved across the parcel of land your parents owned.

Before your lips could even part to respond, you were attacked in a hug by two little pairs of arms. The sandy coloured hair, one set of curls hitting past their shoulders and the other a mop on his head. You knew immediately it was your little cousin Jack and his twin JJ from the strength of the hug.

“Y/N!” The twins squealed jumping in their spots as their father, your uncle Seth, corralled them. His eyes crinkled with the grin that matched your father and other uncles. It was the signature L/N smile your family carried.

“Hey! It’s Agent Jack and-“

“Doctor JJ! I’m Jack’s doctor!” JJ clapped her small hands together, displaying her cute little dimples. Charlie’s quiet awe melted your traitor heart entirely, “Is he your boyfriend?” 

The three adults’ all had a deep chuckle at her cute little scrunched nose as she saw Charlie’s hand grasp yours.

“Not exactly. You know how Dad and I are married?” Seth asked, crouching in front of his little girl. Her eyes blinked in confusion, “Y/N and Charlie are married. Y/N is his wife, and he’s Y/N’s husband.”

In his usual tornado-esque style, Jack had already taken off around the side of the house to the family gathered. JJ’s hand had slid into her father’s familiar grip.

“But Daddy you and Dad are husbands? How can they be married if she’s a girl?” JJ pouted with her green eyes twinkling in suspicion.

“Well, JJ. When two boys get married, they are husbands, if two girls get married, they are wives, but if a boy and girl get married, they become husband and wife. Or maybe depending on the genders they prefer to be called partners.” Seth told his little girl as his husband Fred rested his hand on his shoulder. While Seth was fair-haired and blue eyes, his husband Fred was the example of tall, dark and handsome with green eyes.

“Okay.” JJ simply spoke, skipping over to grab Charlie’s hand in her left and yours in her right. The little girl dragging you two in the direction her brother had disappeared around where the noise grew louder.

“Relax.” You whispered to the wide-eyed Canadian steadily becoming quieter and more nervous. As soon as you rounded the corner of the house, JJ released your hands to chase after Jack and your other cousins.

“You have a big family,” Charlie mumbled, looking over the adults and the young children set away. His eyes found your parents wrapped in each other’s arms talking with a woman confidently wearing the marks of time and wisdom, “You have your father’s smile.”

“I know.” You spoke tugging him to your parents, “Dad! Mum!”

The couple glanced over to see the man that had snuck into their family without a hint. Your father was quick to tug you in a bear hug with a resounding kiss on your forehead. Mum had yanked Charlie into a hug as well that relaxed him with the words she whispered in his ear.

“This is Charlie Gillespie. Charlie this is my mum and dad Theodore and Amelia.” You swiftly introduced the three people in your life.

It was tense for a moment before it melted away, “He’s a lot better than Harvey.”

“Ted!” Mum spoke slapping his arm, “It’s not his fault he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth-“

“-and a boob in his hand.” Dad chortled, dodging the slap from your mortified Mum. Her dark eyes wide open in shock, she really shouldn’t be surprised with your father, at how he had spoken.

Charlie’s lips parted in a strong of impish laughter bringing a grin to your little party’s faces. All the nerves from before melted from the Canadian as he found he fit in perfectly with your parents. His hand never felt yours the rest of the night, and with it, you wished you didn’t have to live with the ruse. You had fallen swiftly for the Canadian and wished this was marriage was real.

It wouldn’t be until Charlie, and you had devoured the food and two mugs of beer that the truth comes out in the upstairs bathroom. You couldn’t be sure who made the first move, but two hours upon arriving at the reunion Charlie had you pinned against the bathroom door. Lips moving against each other like you’d been made for each other.

“Mhm.” Charlie moaned, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. The vision of seeing your bruises hips had a flutter in your stomach.

Heat rose from your stomach to your chest as your fingers slid into his once perfectly groomed hair. His lips parting yours with a warmth that washed over your entire body like the sun brushing skin after peeking behind a fluffy cloud. If Heaven was a feeling, this would be it.

Charlie’s hands slid under your shirt to rest on the warmth of your hips, a fire flared at his mere touch. He only parted from your lips at the sound of the floorboards outside the bathroom.

“Call me crazy, or the beer is making me say this. I’ve never felt this way for someone like I do for you,” Charlie whispered brushing your temple with his lips. The words created a shiver down your spine, “We have this connection and ease between us. I see you in the sunlight when I first wake up, and all I ever want to do is cuddle you close.”

“Char-“

“I know we’ve gone about this out of order, but I’d really like to be more than what we are. I want to be more than a guy making your ex regret hurting you. I want to be more than just your accidental husband. I want to do this the right way.”

“Me too.” You fully admitted, “Watching you geek out over my dad’s car with me. I want to keep seeing that. There’s something I’ve been keeping from you that I need to say before this goes further.”

“What’s wrong?” Charlie murmured cupping your cheeks in his warm hands. His hazel eyes lingered on your swollen lips that no doubt matched his own.

Your bright e/c eyes flickered between his hazel orbs with something he couldn’t quite decipher.

“If we do this, there are things I won’t be able to talk to you about when it comes to my job. It’s sensitive information, and no matter how much I trust you, I won’t be able to say anything. Charlie, the reason I’m moving to Washington is because I finished my tasks.”

Your hands moved around as you spoke to the silent Canadian just staring at you, “So what kept you in England for so long?”

“I work for the CIA. I have since I was recruited on a college campus a few years ago.” You revealed to the flabbergasted actor blinking rapidly. His mouth hung open, and his eyes widened more than you thought possible.

“So, we’re both in the business of deceit and pretending.” He grumbled, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, “I’m an actor by the way. It doesn’t matter what your job is, all I care about is trying to make this work.”

That was the moment that turned your relationship around, a year later, you had traditionally renewed your vows. Your wedding in the backyard of your parents’ house with friends and family watching as you walked down the aisle in your white wedding dress. Charlie waiting with the officiant unaware of the tiny gift of a little bean inside your belly growing.

Tag List (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

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[scotianostra]

John Henry Anderson was born in The Mearns, Aberdeenshire on 14th July  1814.

Anderson’s father was a tenant farmer at Craigmyle. His parents died when he was ten years old and he became an apprentice blacksmith.

He met with a group of touring players when he was 17 years old and joined them with ambitions to become an actor. Whilst with them he saw magical tricks being performed in the street and soon took an interest in magic and set about establishing his own type of magic which he first performed in Aberdeen. He was the first magician to perform tricks and magic in any theatre in the British Isles.

the first nickname of John Henry Anderson which was The Great Caledonian Conjuror. However this was soon changed in 1840 to The Great Wizard of the North. He claimed that the title was given to him by the original Wizard of the North, Sir Walter Scott. John Henry Anderson is also sometimes referred to as the Wonderful Wizard of the North and as Professor Anderson, the Wizard of the North.

John Henry Anderson performed his magic acts in theatres, showgrounds, fairgrounds throughout the world, including America, Canada, Germany, Sweden, Australia and Russia. He gave a command performance to Russian Czar Nicholas. He later moved to London and opened the News Strand Theatre.

John Henry Anderson is credited as the first magician to pull a white rabbit from a black top hat.  His other tricks included,  The Inexhaustible Bottle Trick where a bottle would produce any drink asked for by a member of the audience and  The Gun Trick where he appeared to catch a bullet fired from a musket, which was always kept as the finale of his act in order that ‘ladies might withdraw, to avoid witnessing it

John Henry Anderson married Hannah Longherst from Aberdeen in 1842. She was an assistant with his shows. A year later they had a son who they named John Henry Junior. He became an illusionist. They would later have two daughters who also  became magicians.

Anderson had a mistress called Miss Prentice. In 1845 they had a child called Philip Prentice Anderson. Sadly his mistress died during the birth and Anderson supported the child. He took another mistress who was a member of his touring troupe, she gave birth to another son.

In 1845 John Henry Anderson had built the large Glasgow City Theatre. Sadly it was burnt down five months later. In 1849 he was summoned by Queen Victoria and Prince Albert to perform at Balmoral Castle, though some sources state this to have been at their London residence.

John Henry Anderson died on 3 February 1874 in Darlington. He is buried in the St Nicolas Kirkyard in Aberdeen, next to his mother.

John Henry Anderson was considered to be the greatest magician in Scotland, often compared to Harry Houdini. As seen in pic 3, Houdini himself  visited Anderson’s grave in 1914. The site was badly neglected and Houdini undertook its restoration and upkeep.

If you want to know more, the wonderful Doric Columns has loads here https://doriccolumns.wordpress.com/welcome/the-royalty/footdee/houdini-in-fittie/wizard-o-the-north/

[jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear]

New Year’s Evil Scarecrow/Jonathan Crane Headcanons

Created his costume from old patchwork clothes, mostly vintage stuff he found at a flea market.

His mask uses fake straw for the hair, as it lasts longer. He also has a mechanism in the jaw to make the mouth move in unison with his own

Re-purposes old spray paint cans as fear toxin dispensers

Loves graffiti community and trades them black market valuables in exchange for their old spray paint cans.

His favorite phobia is Pediophobia (fear of dolls)

Wore oversized clothes as a kid, mostly hand-me-downs or cheap clothes from a thrift store. He couldn’t afford anything else. But he liked his clothes none the less.

Has a horrible immune system, always sick

Also, in the same vain he ends up getting bruised or cut easily. AS a kid, he was always wearing multiple band-aids.

Has several disguises and has been a garbage man, a janitor and a substitute middle school teacher

Got is teaching license at a very young age.

Loves traveling and has visited China, the UK and Canada. (his passport is surprisingly legal -- but of course, he uses a fake name)

Knows multiple languages including spanish, french and some chinese

When he was a kid, he had a special interest of tarantulas, and  he has, in his spare time, breeded them

Despite Becky’s rejection, he still owns the Mistress of Fear outfit in hopes that he’ll someday find the right person to wear it.

Made his scythe all by himself after thoroughly reaching how to blacksmith at the local library.

[mistress-light]

The nice thing of being overseas? The weather at home being shite and here in Canada it’s 26 degrees. I’m living.

[gstqaobc]

CBC THE ROYAL FASCINATOR

Friday, April 09, 2021

Hello, royal watchers and all those intrigued by what’s going on inside the House of Windsor. This is your biweekly dose of royal news and analysis. Reading this online? Sign up here to get this delivered to your inbox.

Janet DavisonRoyal Expert

Prince Philip’s life of duty

(Adrian Dennis/Getty Images)

For so many years, Prince Philip was at Queen Elizabeth’s side — or walking just behind — deeply devoted in his duty as consort to the woman who is now the longest-reigning monarch in British history.

But the Duke of Edinburgh, who died this morning aged 99 at Windsor Castle, was seen by many as having his own role in helping an institution steeped in tradition try to find its way toward the future.

Much of that began nearly 70 years ago, after the former sailor who gave up a successful naval career saw his wife ascend the throne.

“What Prince Philip did was help modernize the monarchy in the 1950s,” Michael Jackson, president of the Institute for the Study of the Crown in Canada, said in an interview this morning.

“It was still a very tradition-bound institution…. We can credit Prince Philip, with the Queen’s full support, of course, with modernizing [its] finances, protocols, how Buckingham Palace was run … its outreach to the Commonwealth.”

Philip pushed to have Elizabeth’s coronation televised in 1953, an idea she did not wholeheartedly welcome at first.

“He was the modern person,” John Fraser, author of The Secret of the Crown: Canada’s Affair with Royalty, said in an interview this morning. “He was in touch with real people, non-royal people, and so he always had the instinct to reach out. He understood both the dark side of the media presence as well as the necessity of it.”

Fraser credits Philip’s profoundly unsettled early years, after he was “born in poverty and insecurity,” with how he looked toward the future of the Royal Family, and the monarchy.

“I do think those early years were the single biggest factor in his life and how he approached life,” said Fraser. “I think he never assumed things would last forever because he didn’t make any assumptions like that, and I think he certainly assumed the monarchy wouldn’t survive if it didn’t reach out more to the constituency that it had to serve.”

Fraser met Philip, and recalled him as a man who would revel in asking questions and challenging others.

“He was — charming is not the word I would use — but he was an invigorating person to speak to.”

Jackson, who was Saskatchewan’s chief of protocol from 1980 until 2005, met Philip during four visits to the province — three with the Queen and one on his own — and remembered a man with “a great sense of humour.”

“Sometimes people found him a bit abrasive, a bit abrupt, but that’s the way he was,” said Jackson.

“He was a straight shooter and he complemented the Queen beautifully because the Queen is a very soft-spoken, more laid-back person. Prince Philip really spoke his mind and occasionally made jokes and … put everyone at ease. I found him very refreshing, good to work with.”

With Philip’s death, there is an inevitable sadness for the Queen, and inevitable concern for how she will cope with the passing of her husband of more than 73 years.

Both Fraser and Jackson say the Queen will carry on, with Jackson noting “That’s the way she is. She’s a very strong person” with a deep religious faith that will sustain her.

“She’ll do her duty,” said Fraser. “And I think that’s the big lesson of him. He did his duty.”

For a full obituary of Prince Philip, click here.

For photos from Prince Philip's royal career, click here.

Family dysfunction

When Philip Mountbatten married Princess Elizabeth in 1947, the family he was joining was in marked contrast to the fractured one he had known in his youth. His parents' marriage broke down and offered him nothing like the nuclear family arrangement (mom, dad and two kids) that Elizabeth had known throughout her childhood. "In marrying the Queen, [Philip] gained that sort of stable home life that he didn't have when he was younger," royal author and historian Carolyn Harris has said in an interview. Philip's parents were Prince Andrew of Greece and Princess Alice of Battenberg, a great-granddaughter of Queen Victoria. Philip was born a prince of both Greece and Denmark on June 10, 1921, on the dining room table at Mon Repos, a villa that was the summer home for the Greek royals on the island of Corfu. He was the last of five children — his four older siblings were all girls. At the time, he was sixth in line to the Greek throne. But life in Greece didn't last long. His father, a professional soldier, was exiled from Greece in 1922 as his uncle, King Constantine I, was forced to abdicate. Philip's family fled, with the story being that Philip was nestled into an orange box as the family was evacuated from Greece on a Royal Navy ship. They eventually made their way to Paris. Philip's childhood took a "dysfunctional turn," author Sally Bedell Smith wrote in her book, Elizabeth The Queen, when he was sent by his parents at the age of eight to England for boarding school. The family eventually broke down. Philip's mother, who was born deaf, was ill periodically, diagnosed with schizophrenia and spent time in a sanitarium in Switzerland. His father went off with his mistress to Monte Carlo, where he died in 1944. Philip was left to be brought up in the U.K. by his mother's family, shuffled among various relatives and boarding schools throughout his youth. He didn't see or have any word from his mother between the summer of 1932 and the spring of 1937. "It's simply what happened," Philip said matter-of-factly in an excerpt from a book by Philip Eade, Young Prince Philip, Turbulent Early Years, published in the Telegraph. "The family broke up. My mother was ill, my sisters were married, my father was in the south of France. I just had to get on with it. You do. One does." As life went on, there really was no father to guide, consult or do anything else a father can do for his child. Several other close relatives died in his early years, including his favourite sister, Cecile, and her family in a plane crash in 1937. The following year, the 2nd Marquess of Milford Haven, his uncle and guardian, died of bone cancer. That left the marquess's younger brother, Louis Mountbatten, to bring up Philip. His family ties also extended into Germany. Three of his sisters were married to German princes involved in the Nazi party. Cecile and her husband, Don, had just joined the Nazi party before they died. Those family alliances had a visible repercussion when Philip and Elizabeth were married in 1947. "His sisters were not invited to the wedding as they were married to German princes who had been involved in the Nazi party during World War Two," Harris said. Philip's mother, Princess Alice, however, was at the wedding, and in her later years, came to live at Buckingham Palace. Alice had her own moment in the cultural conscience in 2019, as an episode during the third season of the Netflix drama, The Crown, focused on her. "She's just the most extraordinary character," Crown creator Peter Morgan told Vanity Fair. She set up charities for Greek refugees and later established a nursing order of Greek Orthodox nuns. During the Second World War, while her son was serving with the Royal Navy and her German sons-in-law fought for the Nazis, she was hiding Jews in Athens. As much as there was the distance between Philip and his mother in his younger years, there was a closeness later. Alice came to live at Buckingham Palace in 1967. Alice died at the palace in 1969 and was interred in the royal crypt at Windsor Castle. In 1988, her remains were transferred, as she had wished, to the church of St. Mary Magdalene in east Jerusalem. In a 1994 visit to the Yad Vashem Holocaust memorial in Jerusalem, Philip planted a tree in his mother's honour and visited her gravesite. "I suspect that it never occurred to her that her action was in any way special," Philip said during his visit. "She was a person with deep religious faith and she would have considered it to be a totally human action to fellow human beings in distress."

No stranger to Canada

(Frank Gunn/The Canadian Press)

Prince Philip's last visit to Canada was a short one in 2013 — on his own, without the Queen — to present a ceremonial flag to the Royal Canadian Regiment's 3rd Battalion. It came as something of a surprise. Philip had experienced a few health scares in the 18 months prior. So overseas travel was not necessarily a given for the Duke of Edinburgh at the time. But given Philip's feisty personality, dedication to his role and some of the interests he showed over the years, his return to Canada — he made more than 70 visits or stopovers between 1950 and 2013 — may not really have been a complete surprise. The 2013 trip was billed as a private working visit and was only a few days long. But while he was here, he was finally able to pick up the insignias he had been awarded as companion of the Order of Canada and commander of the Order of Military Merit from David Johnston, then Canada's governor general.

To read more about Philip’s time in Canada, click here.

Royally quotable

“He is someone who doesn't take easily to compliments but he has, quite simply, been my strength and stay all these years, and I, and his whole family, and this and many other countries, owe him a debt greater than he would ever claim, or we shall ever know.”

— Queen Elizabeth, publicly acknowledging Prince Philip’s importance to her during a speech on the occasion of their 50th wedding anniversary in 1997.

To read more on what Philip meant to the Queen, click here.

Remembering Prince Philip

Royal Fascinator readers are welcome to share their thoughts on the passing of Prince Philip, and any memories they may have of meeting him over the years. We’ll include some in the next edition of the newsletter.

I’m always happy to hear from you. Send your ideas, comments, feedback and notes to

royalfascinator@cbc.ca

. Problems with the newsletter? Please let me know about any typos, errors or glitches.

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

[farfarawaygirl]

Blue + Turquoise

blue - which is your favourite mode of long distance transport? have you ever been on a plane? - if so, where?

If time isn’t an issue, I’m all for train travel. My sister and I took the train from Montreal to New York once, and it was lovely.

I also love a good cruise!

I’m very blessed to have travelled a lot, and have taken tons of plane trips. Little short ones from my island home to the mainland, cross Canada ones, the longest one from Canada all the way down to Ushuaia - the southernmost tip of South America, and from there I crossed the Drake Passage and went to Antarctica.

turquoise - do you like being in the sea? which is your favourite sea side town to visit?

I was born and raised on the West Coast, the Pacific is a wily mistress, but I do love her. My high school did a Senior Trip that was sailing in a tall ship around the gulf islands… stunning.

As for seaside towns, my family spent summers, and a few New Years, on the Oregon Coast. Cannon Beach is pure magic. Seaside. Lincoln City. Those are healing places for me.

I also spent some time going up and down South America, and there’s this village in Chile, called Castro, which is stunning. It grows up out of the water, the boats and houses are bright and perfect. Absolute magic.

[covairecity-promo]

~ MOST WANTED! ~

❝ Being on top is a lonely place and I like it that way. ❞

Name: Laylan Lyons

Species: Werewolf

Sexuality: Androflexible

Age: 44

Occupation: Owner of Thrifty

Client

Face Claim: Keiynan Lonsdale

✒ BACKGROUND: Born February 28th 1976 in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada, to a Barbadian dad and a Caucasian Canadian mom; Laylan had the most regular life. They were home-schooled due to their lycanthropy and spent most of their time with other wolves from their pack. They was the eldest of three, being the only male, and having 16 years’ difference with the middle sibling and 33 with the youngest.

As their pack strongly believed in community work, Laylan was raised to help those in need around him, more likely to be found at night serving coffee and a meal to homeless people than celebrating Christmas on the 25th. But, even though they had somewhat a heart of gold, the wolf refused to ever be in that position and decided to study in finance.

One day while in class, they fell in love with a friend’s jacket and was surprised to learn that the expensive looking piece was secondhand. It was in that moment that they knew what he’d focus their studies on, and what was their main goal to achieve.

Keep reading [or click] for full biography & visit our group!

And so over the next years, Laylan continued their studies while setting up their future business, and working as much as they could to put money aside. It helped that their parents had set up an account for each of their kids, with money they could gain access to at 30.

The years passed and Laylan knew they were getting closer to the finish line, but there was one flaw to their plan; the city they lived in, because the competition was too great. Not only that; they would also have to eventually be known or seen more, which would eventually lead to questions in the future. It was their parents who suggested Covaire City a few months before their 30th birthday, during a family dinner. A month later, Laylan visited the city to see if they would enjoy it or not, and if their business could grow there. To their surprise, most of the businesses were Master- and Mistress-oriented, though they had to admit that they were the ones with money to spend. But they knew civilians would need something like a high-quality thrift store. They came back home full of ideas and ready to move to the City that Bleeds.

It took them a year to settle everything back home and prepare their move to the city. So, in 2009, at 31, they arrived in Covaire City, having enough money and connections through their parents to be made a Master. They spent the next year setting up their business until they opened Thrifty in 2010. Because of that, the wolf barely rented slaves as they had no time for them, and realised that owning one was too much trouble when they had a business to set up.

The opening was beautiful, but Thrifty ended up far more successful than anticipated, and for six months Laylan found themselves struggling to find enough merchandise for customers to buy, because they couldn’t keep up with the high demand.

Since then, their shop has only grown in popularity. When slavery was abolished in February 2018, it only made their business skyrocket as escorts needed to save as much as they could, and they had become the best place to go for clothes at a low budget.

✒ PERSONALITY: Laylan has a very laidback personality and can laugh at themselves without a problem, but when angered, you’re in for carnage. They know they’re young compared to many in the city, and hates being reminded of it, often pointing out that the Alpha doesn’t care about age, but about how his wolves act. They’ve made their fortune by helping those with less money, and by default believes in helping others.

But don’t let that generosity fool you. Laylan is a ferocious businessman, finds no interest in hiring exclusive escorts because they’re a waste of money when they can just pay to have fun and be done with it, and wouldn’t risk their own life to save someone else unless they liked them or it was their Alpha. Their sentimentality extends to deep friendship and nothing more, because everything else is a chore to him.

When it comes to sexual partners, Laylan prefers to be the top, but can make exceptions when they’re with someone they trust. Though, their passion may turn a bit violent when they get carried away. They love their men masculine, and the few women they sleep with to be very feminine.

N.B.: BECAUSE OF THE NATURE OF THIS BIO, LAYLAN CANNOT HAVE EXCLUSIVE ESCORTS.

MAIN || PLOT || SPECIES || CHARACTERS || EVENTS || APPLY || MOBILE

[koreanfilminsight]

Hahaha // 하하하 (2010) Directed by Hong Sang-soo // 홍상수

Moon-kyung(KIM Sang-kyung), who has decided to emigrate to Canada, drinks makgoli at Chunggye Mountain with Joong-shik(YOO Joon-sang), an older friend. The two realize that they had both been on a trip to Tongyeong recently and then talk about the good times they had there. Moon-kyung's story. Sung-ock, the tour guide in Tongyeong Moon-kyung is staying at his mother(YOON Yeo-jeung)'s house in Tongyeong and traveling around the town when he sees Sung-ock(MOON So-ri) the tour guide and starts following her around. He has a run-in with Sung-ock's boyfriend Jung-ho (KIM Gang-woo) who is a former marine, but he succeeds in winning Sung-ock over and convinces her to emigrate with him. Joong-shik's story. Yun-joo, the woman he came to Tongyeong with Joong-shik is married but he visits Tongyeong with his mistress Yun-joo (YE Ji-won). She demands that he get a divorce and marry her, which leaves him in a state of agony. Since he is close to the poet Jung-ho who is also in Tongyeong, he drinks with him almost every day and gets to know Jung-ho's girlfriend Sung-ock who is an amateur poet. The two men are discussing their summer stories over drinks when they realize that they had met the same people! Their intention of talking only about the good stuff gradually leads to an illustration of the subtle conversation between two couples and a melancholy poet who meet in the fresh, clean town of Tongyeong. (Synopsis by KOFIC)

[fancypirategalaxy]

Episode 14 | So Wayree — EP.14 [ENGSUB] Full’ Episodes — Channel 7

WATCH HERE ➤

www.playonline.tvshowfilm.com/tv/107405-1-14/so-wayree.html

Two hotel moguls, once family friends since the grandparents generation, now sworn enemies, are fighting over who will reign supreme. Prinoot never thought that he would be part of the hatred. Although his father is the son in law of Sirimontra, his mother was only a mistress who was abandoned in America. Growing up he never knew what having a father was like. Pramida is the only heiress to the famous Emporium real estate mogul. She was pulled into this warring game after being drugged and sent to Prinoot as ransom. 4 years later, she came back with a set of twins but told everyone that they were her siblings. Prinoot and Pramida meet again but standing on opposite sides of the line as sworn enemies. Although they have the twins, not as chains of love but chains of enemies that tied them together unwillingly.

So Wayree

So Wayree S1

So Wayree S1E14

So Wayree Channel 7

So Wayree Ep14

So Wayree Season 1

So Wayree Episode 14

So Wayree Season 1 Episode 14

Watch So Wayree Episode 14

About So Wayree

Title : So Wayree Episode Title : Episode 14 First Air Date : Aug 14, 2020 Last Air Date : Sep 11, 2020 Number of Seasons : 1 Number of Episodes : 14 Released Date : Today Genres : Drama Networks : Channel 7 Casts : Status: Returning Series Quality: HD Rating: 10 * Alternative Titles : Series

🎬 Watch So Wayree - Episode 14 English Sub Full-Episode 🎬

Television Show

A television show might also be called a television program (British English: programme), especially if it lacks a narrative structure. A television series is usually released in episodes that follow a narrative, and are usually divided into Seasons (US and Canada) or series (UK) — yearly or semiannual sets of new episodes. A show by a limited number of episodes may be called a miniseries, serial, or limited series. A one-time show may be called a “special”. A television film (“made-for-TV movie” or “television movie”) is a film that is initially broadcast on television rather than released in theaters or direct-to-video.

History

The first television shows were experimental, sporadic broadcasts viewable only byin a very short range from the broadcast tower starting in the 4910s. Televised events such as the 49117 Summer Olympics in Germany, the 4914 coronation of King George VI in the UK, and David Sarnoff’s famous introduction at the 4919 New York World’s Fair in the US spurred a growth in the medium, but World War II put a halt to development until after the war. The 4914 World Series inspired many Americans to buy their first television set and then in 4918, the popular radio show Texaco Star Theater made the move and became the first weekly televised variety show, earning host Milton Berle the name “Mr Television” and demonstrating that the medium was a stable, modern form of entertainment which could attract advertisers. The first national live television broadcast in the US took place on September 1, 4914 when President Harry Truman’s speech at the Japanese Peace Treaty Conference in San Francisco was transmitted over AT&T’s transcontinental cable and microwave radio relay system to broadcast stations in local markets.[4][1][1] The first national color broadcast (the 4911 Tournament of Roses Parade) in the US occurred on January 4, 4911. During the following ten years most network broadcasts, and nearly all local programming, continued to be in black-and-white. A color transition was announced for the fall of 49171, during which over half of all network prime-time programming would be broadcast in color. The first all-color prime-time Season came just one year later. In 4941, the last holdout among daytime network shows converted to color, resulting in the first FULL’EPISODESsly all-color network Season

United States.

When a person or company decides to create a new series, they develop the show’s elements, consisting of the concept, the characters, the crew, and cast. Then they often “pitch” it to the various networks in an attempt to find one interested enough to order a prototype first episode of the series, known as a pilot.[citation needed] Eric Coleman, an animation executive at Disney, told an interviewer, “One misconception is that it’s very difficult to get in and pitch your show, when the truth is that development executives at networks want very much to hear ideas. They want very much to get the word out on what types of shows they’re looking for.”[4]To create the pilot, the structure and team of the whole series must be put together. If audiences respond well to the pilot, the network will pick up the show to air it the next Season (usually Fall).[citation needed] Sometimes they save it for mid-Season, or request rewrites and additional review (known in the industry as development hell).[citation needed] Other times, they pass entirely, forcing the show’s creator to “shop it around” to other networks. Many shows never make it past the pilot stage.[citation needed].The show hires a stable of writers, who usually work in parallel: the first writer works on the first episode, the second on the second episode, etc.[citation needed] When all the writers have been used, episode assignment starts again by the first writer.[citation needed] On other shows, however, the writers work as a team. Sometimes they develop story ideas individually, and pitch them to the show’s creator, who folds them together into a script and rewrites them.[citation needed]If the show is picked up, the network orders a “run” of episodes — usually only six or 41 episodes at first, though a Season typically consists of at least 11 episodes.[citation needed] The midSeason seven and last nine episodes are sometimes called the “mid-seven” and “back nine” — borrowing the colloquial terms from bowling and golf.[citation needed].

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[scotianostra]

John Henry Anderson was born in The Mearns, Aberdeenshire on 14th July  1814.

Anderson’s father was a tenant farmer at Craigmyle. His parents died when he was ten years old and he became an apprentice blacksmith.

He met with a group of touring players when he was 17 years old and joined them with ambitions to become an actor. Whilst with them he saw magical tricks being performed in the street and soon took an interest in magic and set about establishing his own type of magic which he first performed in Aberdeen. He was the first magician to perform tricks and magic in any theatre in the British Isles.

the first nickname of John Henry Anderson which was The Great Caledonian Conjuror. However this was soon changed in 1840 to The Great Wizard of the North. He claimed that the title was given to him by the original Wizard of the North, Sir Walter Scott. John Henry Anderson is also sometimes referred to as the Wonderful Wizard of the North and as Professor Anderson, the Wizard of the North.

John Henry Anderson performed his magic acts in theatres, showgrounds, fairgrounds throughout the world, including America, Canada, Germany, Sweden, Australia and Russia. He gave a command performance to Russian Czar Nicholas. He later moved to London and opened the News Strand Theatre.

John Henry Anderson is credited as the first magician to pull a white rabbit from a black top hat.  His other tricks included,  The Inexhaustible Bottle Trick where a bottle would produce any drink asked for by a member of the audience and  The Gun Trick where he appeared to catch a bullet fired from a musket, which was always kept as the finale of his act in order that ‘ladies might withdraw, to avoid witnessing it

John Henry Anderson married Hannah Longherst from Aberdeen in 1842. She was an assistant with his shows. A year later they had a son who they named John Henry Junior. He became an illusionist. They would later have two daughters who also  became magicians.

  Anderson had a mistress called Miss Prentice. In 1845 they had a child called Philip Prentice Anderson. Sadly his mistress died during the birth and Anderson supported the child. He took another mistress who was a member of his touring troupe, she gave birth to another son.

In 1845 John Henry Anderson had built the large Glasgow City Theatre. Sadly it was burnt down five months later. In 1849 he was summoned by Queen Victoria and Prince Albert to perform at Balmoral Castle, though some sources state this to have been at their London residence.

John Henry Anderson died on 3 February 1874 in Darlington. He is buried in the St Nicolas Kirkyard in Aberdeen, next to his mother.

John Henry Anderson was considered to be the greatest magician in Scotland, often compared to Harry Houdini. As seen in pic 3, Houdini himself  visited Anderson's grave in 1914. The site was badly neglected and Houdini undertook its restoration and upkeep.

If you want to know more, the wonderful Doric Columns has loads here https://doriccolumns.wordpress.com/welcome/the-royalty/footdee/houdini-in-fittie/wizard-o-the-north/