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emjayewrites · 4 months ago

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Sakura Dreams 🌸 🇯🇵 🗼Jules Kounde (1/6)

SYNOPSIS: It was supposed to be a guys trip to Japan after a disappointing ending to Euros, however, fate had another thing in mind.

PAIRINGS: Jules Koundé x fem!blackOC (Ayo Pratt) (faceclaim joie.ade)

WARNINGS: cursing, poor google translations, football b.s & drama, flirty!jules, eventual smut. MINORS DNI!!!

TAGLIST: @hopefulromantic1 @lettersofgold @sinflowersugar @mauvecherie-writes @queenshikongo3 @perfecttrashface @alika-4466 @cocobutterqwueen @peyiswriting @that-90s-girllll @leilaxaliel @serpenttines-library @certifiedlesbianbaddie @niahxo @julescpu @jack0357 @chaoticcoffeequeen @greedyjudge2 @yeea-nah @saturnville @taytropicana @trentswrld @cranberryjulce @vile-harlot @2serenity0

A/N: Jules is in Japan, so of course I had to make a short series about it. Also, if you're a Jules girl, please let me know and I'll tag you in more chapters.

Read Part 2

The humid air of Tokyo hit Jules like a wall as he stepped off the plane, his muscles aching from the 13-hour flight. Narita International Airport buzzed with activity, a cacophony of announcements in Japanese and English filling the air. Jules popped a cherry dum dum in his mouth, the sweet flavor a small comfort as he trudged alongside his friends Wilhelm, AK, and his half-brother Nicholas towards baggage claim, navigating through the sea of travelers.

"Yo, ce décalage horaire n'est pas une blague (Yo, this jet lag is no joke)," Nicholas grumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"C’est vrai (Facts)," Wilhelm agreed, stifling a yawn.

As they collected their luggage and made their way to the hotel shuttle, Jules couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement beneath the exhaustion. This trip was meant to be a distraction, a way to shake off the disappointment of the Euros and clear his head before the upcoming season with FC Barcelona.

The thought of training camp loomed in the back of his mind. Jules silently prayed for an injury-free season, where he could continue to prove himself and silence the doubters. But for now, he pushed those worries aside. It was time to live in the moment.

The shuttle wound its way through Tokyo's neon-lit streets, skyscrapers towering above them. Jules pressed his forehead against the cool window, watching as businessmen in crisp suits hurried past izakayas and pachinko parlors. The city was a mesmerizing blend of tradition and modernity, and Jules found himself eager to explore.

"Tu penses qu'on aura le temps de visiter les temples? (Do you think we'll have time to visit the temples?)," AK asked, his eyes wide as he took in the city.

"Bien sûr (Of course)," Jules replied. "Nous avons deux semaines (We have two weeks)."

Their hotel, a gleaming high-rise in the trendy Shibuya district, loomed before them. The lobby was a vision of minimalist luxury, all sleek lines and soft lighting. As they approached the check-in counter, dragging their suitcases behind them, Jules's attention was immediately captured by a group of women ahead of them in line.

"Merde (Fuck)," he muttered under his breath, the dum dum stick moving to the corner of his mouth.

There were four of them, all stunning in their own right. But one, in particular, caught his eye. She was fine as hell, with curves that reminded him of Pam Grier in her prime, and her skin was a deep, rich cocoa. Jules's eyes traveled up to her full, pouty lips, currently curved in laughter at something her friend had said. She wore her natural hair in two perfect puffs, giving her this effortless 90s vibe that he found irresistible.

Once the girls finished checking in, Jules couldn't help but notice the others as well. One rocked long braids that cascaded down her back, another sported a short curly style with faded sides that highlighted her cheekbones, and the third had a blonde weave that caught the light as she moved.

"Ce sont tous fraîches (They're all baddies)," AK whispered, nudging Jules.

Jules nodded, his eyes still fixed on the girl with the puffs. There was something about her, an energy that drew him in. As the group of women headed towards the elevators, she turned, and their eyes met. She flashed him a bright smile that made his heart skip a beat, just as the elevator doors closed.

"Jules!" Wilhelm's voice snapped him out of his trance.

"Hein? Quoi? (Huh? What?)"

Wilhelm rolled his eyes. "Ton passeport, mec. La réceptionniste en a besoin (Your passport, man. The receptionist needs it)."

"Ah, oui, bien sûr (Oh, yeah, of course)." Jules fumbled for his passport, his mind still on the mystery girl's smile.

They checked in, and Jules couldn't shake the feeling that this trip might turn out to be more interesting than he'd anticipated.

"On est à quel étage? (What floor are we on?)" Wilhelm asked as they headed to the elevators.

"Le quinzième (Fifteenth)," Nicholas replied, studying the key cards.

As the elevator doors closed, Jules found himself hoping he'd run into the girl with the puffs again. Tokyo was a big city, but stranger things had happened. With a grin, he chewed on the dum dum in his mouth. This vacation was already looking up.

Ayo stepped into the luxurious suite, her eyes widening as she took in the panoramic view of Tokyo's skyline through floor-to-ceiling windows. The city sprawled before them, a mesmerizing tapestry of lights against the darkening sky.

"Damn, this is bougie as hell!" Nikki exclaimed, her long braids swinging as she spun around the spacious living area.

Gigi ran her hand through her blonde weave as she glanced at the sleek furniture. "One Management really hooked us up."

"They better have," Nikki chimed in. "Our girl's about to take over the modeling world."

Ayo smiled modestly, still processing the whirlwind of the past few months. She had recently signed with One Management, a top-tier agency with offices across Europe, Asia, and the US. This trip to Tokyo was a gift from her friends and newest management team, a last hurrah before she moved from New York to London to further her blossoming career.

Symone, sporting a chic short hairstyle with faded sides, squeezed her shoulder. "After that Savage X Fenty show? Girl, the world is your oyster."

Ayo's recent success modeling for Rihanna's lingerie line had catapulted her into a new echelon of the fashion world. It was surreal, exciting, and more than a little terrifying.

"This trip is exactly what I needed before the big move," Ayo said, gratitude welling up in her chest as she looked at her friends. "Thank you guys, seriously."

Symone then made a beeline for the mini-bar. "Girls, we need to celebrate! Shots?"

Ayo chuckled, shaking her head. "Sy, it's barely 6 PM, and we're exhausted from the flight."

"Come on, just one!" Symone pleaded, already pulling out a bottle of Johnny Walker.

Gigi yawned dramatically. "Count me out. I need a nap before dinner."

"Same here," Nikki agreed. "What's the plan for food anyway?"

They quickly decided to eat at the hotel restaurant for their first night, too tired to venture out into the city just yet.

As Gigi and Nikki retreated to their rooms, Ayo found herself drawn back to the window. Her mind wandered to the cute guy with dreads she'd spotted in the lobby. There was something about him…

"Earth to Ayo!" Symone's voice snapped her out of her reverie. "Shot time, bitch!"

Ayo laughed, accepting the glass. "That's my girl," Symone grinned, sticking out her tongue.

They clinked glasses and downed the whiskey, the burn a welcome distraction from Ayo's jet lag. As they settled onto the plush couch, Symone's eyes welled up unexpectedly.

"Who would've thought four girls from Jersey would end up in Tokyo?" she mused, her voice thick with emotion.

Ayo nudged her playfully. "You say that every trip, SySy."

"Because it's true!" Symone insisted, pouring another round. "I'm just… I'm gonna miss you, you know?"

"Oh, SySy," Ayo crooned, wrapping her friend in a tight hug. "I'm gonna miss you too."

Symone sniffled, trying to lighten the mood. "You just had to go to boring-ass London, huh? Old 'God save the King' ass…"

Ayo rolled her eyes affectionately, well-versed in Symone's habit of using humor to deflect her true feelings. They chatted for a while longer, reminiscing about their journey from New Jersey to this moment.

Eventually, Symone yawned. "Alright, I need a power nap before dinner. Don't let me sleep too long!"

As Symone disappeared into her room, Ayo's phone buzzed. She sighed heavily when she saw the name: Jamaal. Her ex, who never seemed to get the hint. Without reading it, she deleted the text.

"Leave the past in the past," she murmured, taking one last shot. It was time to focus on her future – London, One Management, and all the possibilities that lay ahead.

With that thought, Ayo made her way to her bedroom. She barely registered the decor before collapsing face-first onto the plush bed, letting the exhaustion of travel and the warmth of whiskey lull her into a much-needed nap.

A couple of hours later, the girls emerged from their rooms, dressed for dinner at the hotel's restaurant. Ayo wore a sleek black slip dress that hugged her curves, paired with strappy heels. Symone rocked a vibrant yellow pantsuit that complemented her short, faded hairstyle. Gigi opted for a flowy floral maxi dress, her blonde weave styled in loose waves. Nikki chose a chic off-shoulder jumpsuit, her braids swept into an elegant updo.

As they approached the restaurant, they paused to admire its exterior. The design seamlessly blended modern aesthetics with traditional Japanese elements, creating an inviting atmosphere.

"We need a group selfie!" Symone declared excitedly.

Being the tallest, Ayo extended her arm to take the photos. They huddled together, striking poses and laughing. After a few attempts, they scrutinized the results, each finding something to critique.

"Let's try one more," Gigi suggested.

As Ayo prepared to take another shot, a slightly deep voice with a heavy accent called out, "Would you like me to take the photo instead?"

The girls turned towards the voice, and Ayo's breath caught in her throat. It was the guy from the lobby earlier. He was even more striking up close. His dreads were neatly styled, and he wore a Versace button-down with a few buttons undone, revealing a glimpse of his chest and a gold Cuban link chain. His feet were adorned with stylish huaraches. The scent of his cologne wafted over, a intoxicating mix of citrus and wood.

"Damn, he fine as fuck," Symone muttered, not quite under her breath.

The corners of his mouth quirked up, clearly having heard Symone's not-so-discreet comment.

"Sure," Ayo said softly, handing him her phone.

He instructed the girls on how to pose, squatting down to capture different angles. Ayo couldn't help but notice his friends behind him - all different shades of brown, with fresh haircuts and equally stylish outfits.

After taking several photos, he handed the phone back to Ayo with a smile. The girls crowded around, nodding in approval at the results.

"Are they good?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you," Ayo replied, trying to keep her voice steady.

He nodded and rejoined his friends, heading into the restaurant.

"Ooh! He was feeling you," Gigi drawled, fanning herself. "That is a man, Savannah!"

The others laughed in agreement.

"Girl, you neva lied!" Symone concurred. "He a sexy little croissant, huh?" she teased in a fake French accent.

Ayo shook her head, laughing despite herself.

"And he had them eyes for you, Ayo," Nikki added.

"What? No, he didn't," Ayo protested.

"Yes, he did," her friends chorused as they entered the restaurant.

They spotted the guys waiting on a bench as Ayo approached the maître d' to check in.

"Good evening, how many in your party?" the maître d' asked politely.

"Four, please," Ayo replied.

The maître d' checked the reservation list and frowned slightly. "I'm afraid there's a bit of a wait. We have a group of four ahead of you, and it will be about an hour and a half before we can seat you."

Ayo's eyes widened in shock. "An hour and a half?" she repeated, her voice rising slightly.

She turned back to her friends, who were waiting expectantly.

"Girls, we've got a problem," Ayo said, rejoining the group. "They're saying it's going to be a 90-minute wait."

"What?" Symone exclaimed. "Are you serious?"

Gigi groaned. "I'm starving already. I can't wait that long."

Nikki shook her head in disbelief. "There's got to be another option, right?"

One of the guys from the other group - dark-skinned with a faded low cut caesar and also sporting a French accent - approached them. "Would you like to get a table together?" he offered.

"Sure!" Symone replied, perhaps too eagerly.

The guy then went over to the maître d'. "Excuse me, do you have a table for eight available?"

The maître d' checked his list and nodded. "Yes, we do. Would you like to be seated now?"

"Oui," he replied with a smile.

The maître d' gathered menus and gestured for the group to follow. "Right this way, please."

As they walked, one of the guys – the one with dreads who had taken their photo – motioned to the girls. "After you, madames," he said with a slight bow and a charming smile.

The girls exchanged excited glances as they followed the maître d', with the guys trailing behind.

"Here we are," the maître d' announced, stopping at a large, circular table. "Your server will be with you shortly. Enjoy your meal."

As they settled into their seats, Ayo found herself next to the dreaded Adonis. Her heart skipped a beat as she caught another whiff of his intoxicating cologne.

"I hope you don't mind us crashing your dinner," he said softly, his accent making the words sound like music.

Ayo smiled, trying to keep her composure. "Not at all. Thanks for the save."

As the rest of the group got comfortable, Ayo silently prayed that her friends – especially Symone – wouldn't embarrass her too much during dinner. But judging by the mischievous glint in Symone's eye from across the table, Ayo knew she was in for an interesting evening.

The group settled in, perusing their menus in comfortable silence. After a few moments, the guy with the faded low cut caesar, spoke up.

"Maybe we should introduce ourselves properly. I'm AK," he said with a warm smile.

The tawny-toned guy with the tapered 'fro nodded. "Wilhelm."

"Nicholas," added the dark-skinned guy with the lowcut fade.

"And I'm Jules," said the cutie with the dreads next to Ayo.

The girls followed suit, each introducing themselves in turn.

As they finished, a waiter approached. "Good evening. May I take your drink order?"

Symone piped up immediately. "We'll have sake for the table, please!"

Half the girls groaned in unison. Nikki shot Symone a look. "Girl, are you trying to get us all fucked up?"

Symone pointed to herself innocently, while Gigi gave her a knowing look. The guys chuckled, exchanging comments in French.

Nikki glanced at each of them. "Hey, hey, none of that oui oui stuff, alright? English only."

Nicholas put up his hands in mock defense. "Damn, baby girl, we don't want no smoke."

Nikki gave him a flirtatious smile in response, and Ayo stared at Gigi in a silent plea to watch her cousin. Nikki was known for being a bit... frisky. If Symone was the loudmouth of the group, Nikki was the self-proclaimed "hoe" - and they meant that with all due respect.

The waiter continued taking orders. Jules requested a rum and coke, his accent making Ayo shiver slightly. She ordered a vodka, lime, and soda water.

Ayo felt Jules' arm rest at the back of her seat, his fingers lightly touching the exposed skin of her neck. "Is this okay?" he asked softly.

"Y-yeah, sure," she managed to reply.

As they waited for their drinks, the conversation flowed. The guys asked what brought the girls to Tokyo, and they explained Ayo's modeling career and celebrating her recent signing to a new management agency.

"Savage X Fenty? That's impressive," Wilhelm said. "Did you meet Rihanna?"

Ayo nodded. "Yeah, I met the whole fam, including A$AP Rocky and their two little ones. The kids are adorable, and Rihanna's really nice."

Nikki chimed in, "Rihanna even follows Ayo on Insta."

The guys' eyebrows raised in admiration.

Symone turned the question back on them. "What about you guys? What brings you to Tokyo?"

The men exchanged glances before AK answered, "It's a guys' trip before work makes us all busy again." They seemed reluctant to elaborate, and the girls didn't push further.

The waiter returned with their drinks, including a large bottle of sake. With practiced precision, he began the traditional sake pouring ceremony. He held the tokkuri (sake bottle) with both hands, turning it slightly as he poured into each person's ochoko (small sake cup). The liquid flowed smoothly, filling each cup precisely to the brim without spilling a drop.

As the waiter finished pouring, he took their food orders. They chose a mix of family-style dishes to share and individual entrees. Ayo ordered the miso-glazed black cod, while Jules opted for the wagyu beef teppanyaki. The table also agreed on an assortment of sushi rolls, tempura, and a large bowl of ramen to share.

Jules' arm tightened around the back of Ayo's seat, and he leaned closer to her. Symone caught Ayo's eye from across the table, mouthing "Get it!" with a suggestive waggle of her eyebrows. Ayo immediately shook her head, inwardly reminding herself that the last thing she needed was to end up with a guy on this trip. That was more Nikki's style, and besides, even though they were sharing a meal, these guys were still strangers.

The waiter approached their table once more, arms laden with steaming dishes. "Pardon me, your meals are ready."

He began setting down the plates, announcing each dish as he placed them on the table. "Miso-glazed black cod for the lady, wagyu beef teppanyaki for the gentleman. And here are your shared dishes: assorted sushi rolls, tempura, and a large bowl of ramen."

The group's eyes widened at the sight and aroma of the food. "This looks amazing," Ayo breathed, picking up her chopsticks.

They began to dig in and the conversation turned to their plans for the next couple of weeks.

Nicholas swallowed a bite of sushi before speaking. "So, what's on your itinerary while you're here?"

Symone counted off on her fingers. "Well, we're doing Tokyo for a few days, then Kyoto, and finishing up in Osaka."

"No way," Nicholas replied, his eyebrows raised. "That's pretty much exactly what we're doing too."

Gigi's eyes lit up. "We should totally link up again! Since we're headed to the same places and all."

Wilhelm nodded enthusiastically, pausing from his tempura. "That's not a bad idea at all. What do you guys think?"

"I'm down," AK chimed in. "It'd be cool to explore with some new friends."

Jules smiled, his eyes lingering on Ayo. "Sounds good to me. I'd like to get to know you all a bit better." As he spoke, his tongue darted out to lick his top lip seductively.

Ayo felt her cheeks warm, and she quickly took a sip of her drink to hide her reaction. "Yeah, that could be fun," she managed to say, trying to keep her voice steady.

Suddenly, a buzz in Ayo's lap made her jump slightly. She glanced down at her phone to see a text in their group chat from Symone: "BIIIIIITTTTTTTCCCCCCCCHHHHHH!"

Another message quickly followed from Nikki: "Jules wants to eat you up like a creme brulee. Give that nigga a bite, sis! 😉"

Ayo shook her head, choosing not to reply to the thread. Her mind was racing. She knew she shouldn't do anything with Jules, but the way he occasionally caressed her skin, his intense stares, and those full lips he kept licking were seriously testing her resolve. She reminded herself that the least of her worries should be surrounding men; she needed to focus on her move to London and securing her bag.

As they continued eating, the conversation flowed easily, punctuated by laughter and casual flirtation. Jules and Ayo found themselves engrossed in their own private conversation.

"So, London, huh?" Jules murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "That's quite a change from New York."

Ayo nodded, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down her spine. "Yeah, it's a big move. But it's an amazing opportunity for my career."

"I'm sure you'll take London by storm," he said, his fingers tracing light patterns on her shoulder. "They won't know what hit them."

Ayo laughed softly, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks. "We'll see about that. What about you? What do you do?"

Jules hesitated for a moment before answering. "I'm in sports."

"Oh?" Ayo raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What kind?"

A small smile played on his lips. "Football."

Ayo's eyes widened slightly. She might not follow European football closely, but even she knew that was a big deal. "Wow, that's impressive."

There was still a bit of mystery beyond his answer, but Ayo still found herself increasingly drawn to Jules. His charm was undeniable, and the way he looked at her made her feel like the only person in the room, but a small voice in the back of her mind kept reminding her of her goals, her impending move, and the complications that could arise from a vacation fling. However, she couldn't help but wonder what might happen if she allowed herself to give in to the temptation sitting right next to her. Jesus knows that it's been too long since she was physical with a man, and her rose toy needed a break.

Fuck me.

This was going to be a long ass two weeks.

After dinner, Jules settled the bill and the group hailed a taxi to head to a nearby club. This wasn't just any taxi—it was one of those karaoke taxis, complete with neon lights and a vibrant interior. The seats were plush, covered in shiny, colorful fabric that reflected the pulsating lights. Microphones hung from the ceiling, ready for an impromptu performance, and small screens displayed lyrics. Jules and Ayo squeezed into the very back seat, their bodies pressed close in the tight space.

Gigi and Symone began belting out Muni Long's "Made for Me," their off-key voices filling the cab.

"Twin… where have you been? Nobody loves me like you do…"

Nikki groaned, "I didn't come to Tokyo for this sad shit. Driver, can you play something else?"

The driver responded in broken English, "You like Megan Thee Stallion?"

A chorus of enthusiastic "Hell yes!" and "Yeah!" erupted from the girls. The driver grinned and switched the music, blasting Megan Thee Stallion's latest hits. Symone and Gigi immediately started twerking, teasing the guys to turn up. The guys laughed, hyping them up and taking their phones out to record the antics. Jules shook his head in mock disappointment, but his eyes were full of amusement.

When they finally made it to the club, AK tipped the driver generously before Jules covered their entrance fee. Inside, pulsing lights and thumping bass greeted them. They secured a small booth, and a server quickly approached to take their drink orders. Jules ordered a round for the table.

Jules found himself having a great time, but his attention kept drifting to Ayo. He loved the way her name felt on his tongue, and he couldn't help but admire how stunning she looked. The flirting at dinner had left him wanting more, her scent and their brief touches lingering in his mind.

Taking a big swig of his drink, Jules leaned closer to Ayo. "Are you having fun?" he asked.

She nodded with a smile. "Yeah, I am."

"You seem like the quieter one in your group. Am I right?"Ayo nodded again, and Jules chuckled. "Same here with my friends. Don't worry, I'll do the talking for both of us."

Ayo giggled at that, and Jules felt a warmth spread through his chest at the sound. He winked at her, enjoying their growing connection and the easy rapport between them.

The music shifted from the heavy bass of a hip-hop song to the smooth, infectious rhythm of Afrobeats. Jules inclined his head towards the semi-filled dance floor. "Do you want to dance with me?"

"Huh?" Ayo said, surprised.

"Dance? With me?" Jules repeated.

Ayo hesitated. "No."

"Please?" he pleaded, giving her a puppy dog look. "Here, take a shot to take the edge off," he said, pouring her a shot.

Ayo accepted the shot tentatively, then shrugged and downed it quickly. She grimaced as the alcohol burned its way down, and Jules chuckled lightly. "C'mon, ma belle," he coaxed, leading her to the dance floor.

"C'est parti, Jules! (Here we go, Jules!)" Nicholas commented, patting Jules on the back as he led Ayo to the middle of the dance floor. Jules gestured with his finger for her to turn around. Ayo did as instructed, feeling Jules's front flush against her back, his hips moving into a slow wine, tempting her to do the same with her hips.

"Fuck," he murmured in her ear, his whiskey-scented breath teasing her and making her arousal grow. "You're so sexy, Ayo."

Ayo smiled as his hands on her waist tightened and his hips ground harder against her, allowing her to feel his hardened dick at the crack of her ass. Jules inwardly hissed at the friction, taking a deep inhale of her scent as they moved to the beat.

He was hard beyond measure, his length straining against the confines and his pant's zipper and all he yearned for was to be buried to the hilt inside of her. After tonight, Jules knew it would be hard not to want her. He affirmed to himself that a little vacation fling was exactly what he needed before the season started.

TO BE CONTINUED...

#jules kounde fanfic #jules kounde #jules kounde x black reader #jules kounde x black oc #sakura dreams #footballer x black reader #football x reader #football fanfic #fcbarcelona fanfic #emjayewrites #jules in japan

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e-dubbc11 · 1 year ago

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Under the Pale Moonlight

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Supporting characters: Frank Castle, James Wesley, and Wilson Fisk

Warnings: Swearing, violence, guns, knives, and fluff.

Word Count: 4.2k-ish

Summary: Billy is unhinged, you’ve been taken and being held for ransom. He will not rest until you are found and he can bring you home safe, and you feel sorry for anyone who gets in his way

A/N: Based off of a little conversation between @qu1etwolf and myself. She said she would like to see me try and write something with Billy and his violent like tendencies but I still wanted fluffy elements to it. It’s a bit dramatic but I’m pretty pleased with what I did here and I hope you enjoy it!

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

That night was cloudless and quiet at first.

The sky was so clear, you could see just about every crater of the moon and the stars that were sprinkled behind it sparkled like diamonds under fluorescent lights. From far away, you could hear the occasional dog barking that cut through the silence and you could see the dark shadows of the autumn foliage swaying in the gentle winds.

The musky sweet fragrance of fallen leaves danced across your nose while the cool breeze enveloped you as you walked down the street…alone.

He told you he hated when you walked alone…anywhere…any time of day. Billy didn’t like it if you went anywhere by yourself.

“You worry too much, baby. I’ll be fine.” You had said with a warm smile.

Famous last words.

When you came to, your head hurt and your body was resting on a metal floor, the empty space was completely dark, without windows, and every noise you made echoed throughout the room. It sounded like you were inside of a shipping container.

You weren’t bound or restrained in any way but you were scared and convinced that this had something to do with a deal that your father didn’t want to make involving the company he worked for.

Pratt and Whitney built aircraft engines and while your father didn’t own the company, he was responsible for bringing deals to the table. They build engines for civil aviation and military aviation and when your father declined a business offer, it was for a good reason.

Not too long ago, he had told you about a man coming to see him that wanted to do business and would not take no for an answer and you were convinced that it was someone involved with this man that was holding you captive.

But you didn’t know how far they were willing to go, to get what they wanted.

**********

He let out a yell that could probably be heard by people outside the building on the streets below.

His office was completely destroyed.

Fragments of shattered glass decorated the floor, his laptop landed upside down in the corner of the room, the cracked mirror and the broken picture frames were also casualties of the war zone inside Billy’s office. With his gun in one hand and your picture in the other, he stared down at your smiling face trying to figure out what his next move was going to be.

He needed to find you and was ready to burn the world down if it meant he could find you faster. Billy finally found love, someone who loved him but didn’t put up with his shit, someone that put him in his place when it was necessary, and someone that told him it was ok to let go. You said you would never leave, never abandon him, and he trusted you.

But you were gone, taken someplace that he had no idea where. He wasn’t going to rest until you were found, until HE found you. Billy needed you to be safe in his arms where you belonged and he wasn’t going to let anyone take you away from him.

Still holding the frame with your picture in it, he smashed the glass and removed it to put in his jacket pocket. Billy holstered his weapon and headed for the office door where he was cut off on the other side by Frank.

“Outta my way, Frankie. Now.” He said, rage dripping from his lips.

Frank held up a hand to try and stop him from leaving.

“She’s high profile, Bill. The FBI said they were handling it.” Frank said.

“Oh come on, Frankie! Those corrupt assholes couldn’t find their way out of a wet paper bag let alone find her! I should have been more insistent that she not walk alone and I’m gonna kill every single one of them, Frank. Every…single…one.” Said Billy.

The icy tone to his voice and his mouth twisted with threat let Frank know that Billy was serious. He didn’t care who he had to kill, he was going to find you and leave a trail of bodies behind him while he did it.

“I can’t stop you, can I Bill.” Frank said.

Billy’s eyes darkened and his lips curled back to reveal clenched teeth.

“You know me, Frankie. You think anyone’s gonna be able to stop me? Especially when it comes to her?” Growled Billy.

Frank looked into Billy’s eyes, they shined with unshed tears as he grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Well let’s go get her then, yeah?” Frank said with one side of his mouth curled up into a half smile. “You have a place to start?”

“Her father had a business card from the guy that came to his office wanting to make a deal, willing to pay cash, classic red flag. The card had an address on it. He said it sounded like the same guy demanding the engines in exchange for y/n.” Billy said.

Frank scoffed. “Pfft, not too bright is he. Well I think Lieberman can get her last known location before her phone went dead, so I’ll go to David’s and you go to that address, yeah?”

“Yeah, lemme know what you find out.” Billy said.

**********

They finally had enough of listening to you bang on the walls and call out for help. It took awhile but the doors opened, the early morning sun peeked through the crack in the door, they came inside and tied your arms and legs. They put a piece of tape over your mouth as well so they wouldn’t have to listen to you anymore.

The harder your struggled to free yourself, the tighter the ropes had become and you didn’t want to expel all of your energy. What did they want?

And why did they want aircraft engines? While he had more than enough money for the engines, he was a civilian and civilians don’t require large engines like that and your father could see right through that so he told them no.

They had also taken your watch.

It was completely dark inside the shipping container so you wouldn’t be able to see the time no matter how hard you tried but they took it from you anyway. It was the watch Billy had given you for Christmas last year, the one that he had engraved “Until the end of time. Love, Billy.”

You managed a slight smile with the tape over your mouth thinking about what he said when he gave it to you. When you looked at the engraving, he said, “It was between this and ‘nice butt’,” which caused you to burst out laughing.

You loved him so much.

There weren’t many things in this world that frightened you but you were very scared that you would never get to see Billy’s face again. It terrified you to think you would never get to look into his endless brown eyes again, lovingly scrape your nails against his scalp, or tell him that you loved him and to hear him say it back.

You needed to be in his arms again, to have his body be a warm cradle for yours, and for his soft lips to kiss you goodnight before you fall asleep.

You wanted it all back, you wanted him…forever. And he needed to know that.

**********

When he wanted to be, Billy could be very quiet. He was so light on his feet, sometimes you had no idea he was even in the same room until you turned around to see his handsome face smiling at you, then laughing because he scared you.

That skill came in handy when it was needed. When he arrived at the address on the business card, he didn’t know what to expect so he drew his weapon and went inside the building.

Slinking down hallways and creeping around corners, he checked the building from top to bottom and found everything he expected to find…which was nothing.

The building was empty.

At some point it had been occupied but looking around him, there hasn’t been any activity inside of the building in a long time. It was just an address. But who owned the building?

He needed to get back, tell Frank what he found, and to see if David had any luck finding the last location of your phone.

**********

You heard men arguing outside but you could only make out bits and pieces of the conversation.

“He said he wanted her moved.” One of them said.

Then you heard a different voice. “Well where are we going to move her?”

You heard the first voice again. “He doesn’t care where, just move her. She probably has to go to the bathroom anyway.”

That voice sounded familiar…”He doesn’t care where…”

It was killing you not knowing who “HE” was. Who could it be? And that voice, where have you heard that voice before?

Also, how considerate of them, you thought sarcastically to yourself…you hadn’t had anything to drink in hours so you didn’t really have to go. You didn’t even know how long you had been locked inside.

More talking…

“I cannot believe you didn’t get rid of her phone until you brought her here. Her boyfriend owns the best private security company in the city. You better hope they don’t track her phone or I’ll kill you myself.”

Before they tied you up, you had removed your jacket and tossed it into the corner. If they planned on moving you, hopefully they would be dumb enough to leave your jacket where it is so Billy could find it.

You felt it in your heart that he was out looking for you and when he does find you, he was never going to let you walk alone again.

**********

“The name, Bill. What was the name on the business card?” Frank asked.

Billy pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, concentrating really hard trying to remember the name your father told him was on the card.

“Wesley…James Wesley.” Said Billy. “Y/n’s father also said that they don’t want money, they want those engines. And why does that name sound so familiar, Frankie?”

Frank pressed his lips together in a straight line then hung his head before glancing at Billy again.

“Because he works for HIM, Bill. He works for Wilson Fisk…Kingpin.” Frank said softly.

Billy ran his long fingers through his ebony colored hair, hell burned behind his dark doll like eyes, and he had the acid burn of bitterness in his throat as he said, “Well then he’ll be the final body on top of the pile. She has nothing to do with this and he took her from me, Frankie and he’s gonna pay for it. They’re all gonna pay, so please tell me David found where her phone was last.”

He stared at Frank while putting his gear on and removed the picture of you from his suit jacket pocket to stash it behind his vest. Billy was ready to take out anyone who got in his way including the authorities.

“He did…down by the water where the cargo ships come in. Might be holding her in one of those shipping containers…told ya they’re not too bright. And you know I’m comin’ with you, yeah?” Said Frank.

Billy shook his head furiously.

“No, no, no, I can’t ask you to do that. You have a family, Frankie. I can’t let you risk yourself for me.” Billy said.

“And you’re part of that family, Bill so you’re not goin’ by yourself. Gimme some of that untraceable Russian ammo that I know you have and let’s go bring her home.” Frank said with a slight smirk.

“I love her, Frankie.” Billy said with a slight hitch in his voice.

“Well, let’s go so you can tell her instead of me.”

**********

They arrived at the pier under the cover of the clouded night sky. The ethereal glow of the moon peeked out briefly from behind the clouds before completely disappearing on the other side of the fluffy clouds.

The steady wind picked up a little faster down by the water as they stealthily moved through the cargo yard when they came upon a chair that had been turned over and the rocks underneath their feet had been disturbed. It looked like someone had been dragged from one of the containers, close to where the chairs were turned over.

“The door’s open, Bill…go check inside.” Frank whispered.

With his flashlight on, Billy stepped inside. You weren’t there but in the back corner, he saw some kind of black fabric rolled into a ball. It looked like it was hastily thrown there. When he picked it up, it unfolded and he recognized it immediately. Smiling slightly to himself, Billy knew you had left it for him to find.

“I’m coming, sweet girl.” He whispered to himself.

Frank stuck his head inside. “Russo, you find anything?” He asked.

Billy held out your jacket so Frank could see it. “She left it for me, Frankie.”

“The drag marks go that way.” Frank pointed in the direction they were already headed toward. “They probably didn’t move her too far…maybe in one of those buildings across the way.”

They suddenly heard some rocks shuffle along the ground, Billy and Frank turned and fired in the direction of the noises hitting two men right between the eyes. Billy didn’t even blink, he just continued walking, not bothered at all, and was careful not to leave any evidence behind.

Carnage was the only thing Billy left behind and Fisk was smart enough to scatter his men throughout the shipyard so Billy and Frank would have to check every building.

He prowled like a jungle cat, slitting their throats with his hidden blade, one right after the other, not looking back and moving on even before the body hit the ground.

Billy’s expression was blank, completely zoned out and he would not come back to reality until you were safe. Even Frank had a hard time getting through to him.

As he got closer to another building, Billy heard voices. He heard a woman’s voice, your voice. He listened intently as you spoke.

“What do you want the engines for, Mr. Wesley? You know my father is only responsible for bringing deals to the table and he’s not in charge of making deals himself, right?” You said with a sinister smile stretched across your lips.

“My employer knows that yes, Ms. Y/l/n. But we’ve tied his hands and yours.” He said with an evil smirk. “The man I work for wants to build his own planes for his spice import/export business.”

“Well if that doesn’t sound shady as fuck, I don’t know what does. You are even dumber than you look, Mr. Wesley.” You said. “Pratt and Whitney isn’t going to sell engines like that to a civilian. My father doesn’t care how much money you throw at them.”

The door opened and you heard a deep shaky voice coming from around the corner. “I think your father will do whatever it takes to get you back.”

Wilson Fisk came into view. He walked around the table and stood next to Wesley who was sitting across from you at a long table.

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Fisk but I know my father isn’t going to give you what you want and I know that you’re not going to kill me because if I’m dead, you have no other bargaining chips.” You said.

Fisk gave you an evil smile. “You know who I am.”

“Of course I know who you are.”

**********

Outside were a couple of large SUV’s and they had some of Fisk’s men inside which Billy and Frank took care of, almost a little too easily. But Fisk didn’t know what kind of marines he was dealing with. They were trained to be silent, anticipate moves by the enemy, and to kill with zero hesitation.

Billy was covered in blood, his black clothing had a bright red sheen to it when the dim lights from overhead shined down on to it, and the front of his vest was slick with all of their blood. He acted like it wasn’t even there, like it was just a part of his gear, and if Billy had the time, he would have tortured and tormented all of them.

He would have done it slowly and with precision, to make them feel as much pain as possible for what they had done. They were just doing what they were ordered to do but that didn’t matter to Billy.

You always have a choice in life and they chose to do this, they chose to work for HIM. They took you away from him and now they had paid the price…all of them.

Frank and Billy left no survivors, they didn’t let any of them go, not even one to warn Fisk they were coming for him. They were left to bleed out on to the gravel beneath them, the tiny pebbles were painted red with their blood as it pooled under their throats where they fell.

Billy would make sure the last two would never leave the shipyard alive.

**********

“That’s it. Keep them talkin’, sweet girl.” Billy said in barely more than a whisper.

Close to Billy’s ear, Frank said, “She has a smart mouth, Bill. I can see why you love her so much.”

Fisk started to speak again.

“You think your boyfriend is out looking for you? Hmmm?” He said.

You touched your tongue to your teeth and gave him a sinister grin. “I know what you want me to say, Mr. Fisk. But you’re not gonna get it. What I am gonna tell you is that my guess is you kidnapping me is high profile to the FBI and as soon as they find their way out of that wet paper bag they seem to be stuck in, they’ll be searching for me. Sending Mr. Wesley in to talk to my father was just dumb on your part. You didn’t even try to make it sound legit.” You said with a laugh.

Frank chuckled. “You two really are made for each other.”

You could tell Wilson Fisk was starting to get angry.

“I have people all over this shipyard! I doubt they can’t handle ONE marine!” He yelled across the table.

“I’m sure Billy is waiting patiently for that phone call to come in to tell him that I have been found unharmed.” You said in a sarcastic and teasing tone. “He would never EVER get in the way of authority figures.”

Fisk made a motion like he was going to walk over and strike you when a figure dressed in all black shattered the flimsy glass by diving through the window.

Before Wesley could pull out his gun, the figure moved in front of you and pushed you away from the table when two shots came from the window. One bullet went into Wesley’s head, the other into Fisk’s chest and he collapsed onto the ground.

Clutching his chest, Fisk looked up at the figure who just shot him and they pulled the hood up away from their face.

It was Billy.

“I wanted you to see my face as I watch the life drain from yours.” Billy growled.

Coughing up blood, Fisk managed to ask, “H-how?”

Billy flashed that perfect smile of his but he had an evil twist behind it. He ejected the blade from his wrist and inched closer to Fisk’s face before opening his throat and twisting the blade so the wound wouldn’t close.

“How?” Billy asked. “You took what is most precious to me in this world, you took what was MINE. And you fucked with the wrong marines.” He hissed.

Billy removed the blade from Fisk’s neck and watched as his blood pooled on the floor underneath him and the light faded from his eyes.

Frank lifted his mask.

“You ok, sweetheart?” He asked, trying to catch his breath.

“You came for me too, Frank?” You asked.

“Of course I did. I wasn’t gonna let Bill do this by himself.” He said, cutting your hands loose. “I tell ya what, kid. I’m surprised he didn’t try and hit you before I jumped through the window, you have a mouth on you.” He said with a smirk.

Billy rushed to your side and fell to his knees. “You alright, sweet girl?!” He pulled you into a tight embrace, so tight that it made it hard to breathe and kissed the top of your head.

“I’m ok, Billy. Really, I am. Only slightly traumatized, I think.” You said with a warm smile.

Billy’s lips collided with yours, his long slender fingers tangled in your hair as he planted kisses all over your forehead and your cheeks before wrapping his fingers around your throat like a necklace and softly kissing your lips again.

“I love you…so much.” He said, his onyx colored eyes gazed at you like he hasn’t seen you in a week.

Tears pricked the back of your eyes and one streaked down your cheek before he brushed it away with his thumb. “I love you too, Billy.”

“I hate to break this up, but we gotta get outta here.” Said Frank.

On the way back, Frank and Billy told you exactly what to say when you walk into the police station. Billy held you close in the back seat while Frank drove, his heart was racing, and you felt the gentle rise and fall of his chest against the side of your face.

He came for you and killed everyone that got in his way, including the Kingpin of New York City. The rage in his eyes died down and the tension in his body relaxed as soon as he held you in his arms again. You were back with him, where you belonged, and if he had to, he would do it all again without hesitation.

Billy valued your life more than he valued his own, he loved you more than anything, and he would take on the entire city if it meant you would stay safe.

He flashed that perfect smile at you after he kissed you goodbye. You weren’t even gone for very long but you missed that smile and wondered if you were ever going to see it again.

“I’ll be back to get you and you’re never walking by yourself ever again.” He said with a wink.

No one has ever shown you the kind of love Billy has and he’s never known love by anyone which is why you always made it a point to tell him every day how much you loved him, how you felt safe with him, and how you would never abandon him like so many others had done before.

His chin rested on top of your head in the back of the car, as his fingers danced up and down your arm, soothing you and telling you he’d never let anyone hurt you again.

You didn’t want to but you had to tell him.

“Billy?”

“Yeah baby?” He answered.

“They took my watch…the one you gave me for Christmas.” You had said.

Billy kissed the top of your head. “I’ll get you a new one, my love.”

You leaned back to look up at him through your long dark lashes and pulled him in close to your face and gently kissed him.

“Until the end of time, Billy?” You whispered.

He just smiled his million dollar smile at you and replied, “Until the end of time, sweet girl.”

Before going inside the station, you paused on the sidewalk and looked up at the sky, painted black and navy with the moon cast behind the clouds. Tears welled up in your eyes because just a few hours ago, you weren’t certain you would ever see the sky again and you were incredibly thankful to be alive.

You weren’t sure the sun would ever kiss the high points of your face again or see the person you loved most that would rather watch the world burn than live without you in it.

Under the pale moonlight, you closed your eyes, and inhaled sharply. The lingering smell of salt from the shipyard still fresh as you took a deep breath in through your nose and then exhaling, watching your warm breath meet the crisp autumn air outside.

You took in the familiar city scents that you never wanted to take for granted again, fresh coffee, warm toasted almonds, and pizza slices hot from the oven. The sounds of broken bottles hitting the sidewalk, car alarms, and ambulance sirens were all music to your ears.

You were alive because he fought for you…and won.

Stepping inside the police station, you saw uniforms everywhere, they were carrying papers, rushing past you, and not giving you a second look before one stopped, looked at your disheveled appearance, and asked, “Are you alright miss?”

You stood up straight, nodded, and replied.

“Yes…I’d like to report a kidnapping. And a bunch of dead bodies.”

Tag List: @mindidjarin @saintmurd0ck @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @xdervyxccgh @mattmurdocksscars @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialams @idek-what-to-put @anastasianeedstoread @ratsys @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @russosafehaven @mrsbillyrusso @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #billy russo x female reader #frank castle

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newhologram · 2 years ago

Text

“I write this eulogy while looking across one of the ten-lane freeways P-22 somehow miraculously crossed in 2012, gazing at a view of his new home, Griffith Park. Burbank Peak and the other hills that mark the terminus of the Santa Monica Mountains emerge from this urban island like sentinels making a last stand against the second largest city in the country. The traffic noise never ceases. Helicopters fly overhead. The lights of the city give the sky no peace.

“Yet a mountain lion lived here, right here in Los Angeles.

“I can’t finish this sentence without crying because of the past tense. It’s hard to imagine I will be writing about P-22 in the past tense now.

"Biologists and veterinarians with the California Department of Fish and Wildlife announced today they have made the difficult decision to end P-22’s suffering and help him transition peacefully to the next place. I hope his future is filled with endless forests without a car or road in sight and where deer are plentiful, and I hope he finally finds the mate that his island existence denied him his entire life.

“I am so grateful I was given the opportunity to say goodbye to P-22. Although I have advocated for his protection for a decade, we had never met before. I sat near him, looking into his eyes for a few minutes, and told him he was a good boy. I told him how much I loved him. How much the world loved him. And I told him I was so sorry that we did not make the world a safer place for him. I apologized that despite all I and others who cared for him did, we failed him.

“I don’t have any illusion that my presence or words comforted him. And I left with a great sadness I will carry for the rest of my days.

“Before I said goodbye, I sat in a conference room with team members from the California Department of Fish and Wildlife, and the team of doctors at the San Diego Zoo Safari Park. The showed me a video of P-22’s CT scan, images of the results, and my despair grew as they outlined the list of serious health issues they had uncovered from all their testing: stage two kidney failure, a weight of 90 pounds (he normally weighs about 125), head and eye trauma, a hernia causing abdominal organs to fill his chest cavity, an extensive case of demodex gatoi (a parasitic skin infection likely transmitted from domestic cats), heart disease, and more. The most severe injuries resulted from him being hit by a car last week, and I thought of how terrible it was that this cat, who had managed to evade cars for a decade, in his weakened and desperate condition could not avoid the vehicle strike that sealed his fate.

“As the agency folks and veterinarians relayed these sobering facts to me, tissue boxes were passed around the table and there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. This team cares just as much for this cat as we all do. They did everything they could for P-22 and deserve our gratitude.

“Although I wished so desperately he could be returned to the wild, or live out his days in a sanctuary, the decision to euthanize our beloved P-22 is the right one. With these health issues, there could be no peaceful retirement, only some managed care existence where we prolonged his suffering — not for his benefit, but for ours.

“Those of us who have pets know how it feels when we receive news from the veterinarian that we don’t want to hear. As a lifelong dog and cat owner, I have been in this dreadful position too many times. The decision to let them go is never easy, but we as humans have the ability, the responsibility, and the selflessness to show mercy to end the suffering for these beloved family members, a compassionate choice we scarcely have for ourselves.

“I look at Griffith Park through the window again and feel the loss so deeply. Whenever I hiked to the Hollywood sign, or strolled down a street in Beachwood Canyon to pick up a sandwich at The Oaks, or walked to my car after a concert at the Greek Theater, the wondrous knowledge that I could encounter P-22 always propelled me into a joyous kind of awe. And I am not alone — his legion of stans hoped for a sight of Hollywood’s most beloved celebrity, the Brad Pitt of the cougar world, on their walks or on their Ring cams, and when he made an appearance, the videos usually went viral. In perhaps the most Hollywood of P-22’s moments, human celebrity Alan Ruck, star of Succession, once reported seeing P-22 from his deck, and shouting at him like a devoted fan would.

“We will all be grappling with the loss of P-22 for some time, trying to make sense of a Los Angeles without this magnificent wild creature. I loved P-22 and hold a deep respect for his intrepid spirit, charm, and just plain chutzpah. We may never see another mountain lion stroll down Sunset Boulevard or surprise customers outside the Los Feliz Trader Joe’s. But perhaps that doesn’t matter — what matters is P-22 showed us it’s possible.

“He changed us. He changed the way we look at LA. And his influencer status extended around the world, as he inspired millions of people to see wildlife as their neighbors. He made us more human, made us connect more to that wild place in ourselves. We are part of nature and he reminded us of that. Even in the city that gave us Carmeggedon, where we thought wildness had been banished a long time ago, P-22 reminded us it’s still here.

“His legacy to us, and to his kind will never fade. He ensured a future for the entire population of mountain lions in the Santa Monica Mountains by inspiring us to build the Wallis Annenberg Wildlife Crossing, which broke ground this spring.

“P-22 never fully got to be a mountain lion. His whole life, he suffered the consequences of trying to survive in unconnected space, right to the end when being hit by a car led to his tragic end. He showed people around the world that we need to ensure our roads, highways, and communities are better and safer when people and wildlife can freely travel to find food, shelter, and families. The Wallis Annenberg Wildlife Crossing would not have been possible without P-22, but the most fitting memorial to P-22 will be how we carry his story forward in the work ahead. One crossing is not enough — we must build more, and we must continue to invest in proactive efforts to protect and conserve wildlife and the habitats they depend on — even in urban areas.

“P-22’s journey to and life in Griffith Park was a miracle. It’s my hope that future mountain lions will be able to walk in the steps of P-22 without risking their lives on California’s highways and streets. We owe it to P-22 to build more crossings and connect the habitats where we live now.

“Thank you for the gift of knowing you, P-22. I’ll miss you forever. But I will never stop working to honor your legacy, and although we failed you, we can at least partly atone by making the world safer for your kind.”

#p22 #rip #los angeles #animal death

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derelictlovefool · 4 months ago

Text

❝🇬🇺🇮🇩🇪🇱🇮🇳🇪🇸❝

Author: Achilles, he/him & they/them pronouns

Status: Hobbyist, low writing activity

Writing: OC x Canon, Reader Insert, Original Fiction

Requests/Suggestions: Open

note: i'm a full time student so any requests I get will be done when and if I have time and they spark my interest!

Active in regards to fandoms & characters simply means most enthused about and interested in writing, inactive means least interested in writing but still willing if the idea sparks my creativity.

❝🇫🇦🇳🇩🇴🇲🇸❝

active | inactive | semi active

❝🇨🇭🇦🇷🇦🇨🇹🇪🇷🇸❝

active | inactive | semi active

Dean Winchester | Sam Winchester | Castiel | Charlie Bradbury ||| Joel | Tess ||| Wade Wilson | Tony Stark | Pepper Potts | Bucky Barnes | Steve Rodgers | Thor Odinson | Bruce Banner | Natasha Romanoff | Clint Barton ||| Harley Quinn

The Doctor (4, 9-15) | Jack Harkness | Rose Tyler | Donna Noble ||| Sweeney Todd | Mrs Lovett ||| Geralt of Rivera | Jaskier/Dandelion | Yennefer of Vennenberg ||| Hakon | Aiden | Lawan | Frank ||| Alvin Murphy | Roberta Warren | Addison Carver | Cassandra | Sarge | George St Claire

Mo | Dustfinger ||| Penelope Featherington | Benedict Bridgerton | Anthony Bridgerton | Colin Bridgerton | Eloise Bridgerton | Violet Bridgerton | Kate Sharma | Edwina Sharma ||| Jason Voorhees | Michael Myers | Bubba Sawyer | Brahms Heelshire | Thomas Hewitt

Eddie Gluskin ||| Ethan Winters | Karl Heisenberg | Alcina Dimitrescu | Donna Benniviento | Slavator Monreau | Mia Winters | Chris Redfield | Leon Kennedy | Ada Wong | Claire Redfield

Jack Morrison | Gabriel Reyes | Cole Cassidy | Genji Shimada | Hanzo Shimada | Mei ||| Sans | Papyrus | Asgore | Undyne | Mettaton | Queen ||| Gary ||| Calax Gothard | Domino Swift | Lola Del Carmen | Sonoya Vernilion ||| Asra | Nadia | Dorian | Portia | Muriel ||| Merlin/Hamish Mycroft

OC's: David Thorn (Slasher), Z (God Symbiote), Xander (Robot)

❝🇹🇷🇴🇵🇪🇸❝

Tropes I enjoy writing:

❝🇼🇮🇱🇱 🇩🇴❝

— male/trans/enby/gn!reader (I'm here for the guys and gays)

— oc x canon, oc x oc, canon x canon, reader x canon, reader x oc

— sfw & nsfw

— platonic, queer-platonic, romantic, familial, etc.

— headcannons, one-shots, multi-parts

— AU's, crossovers

— gore, violence, toxic relationships, death/angst

❝🇼🇴🇳❜🇹 🇩🇴❝

— fem!reader (There's thousands out there already y'know)

— genderbends

— pregnancy related topics

— self harm topics

— incest, paedophilia, zoophilia, necrophilia and any of that nasty crap

— non-con

— infidelity

— Characters I really don't know or care about </3

#Request Guidelines #mobile guidelines bc I like to format things now and having everything accessible via mobile is nice for me personally lol

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dearestgojo · 2 years ago

Text

Odyssey by Julia Pratt for @omiyours

Nanami x Reader

Warnings: 18+. Angst. Character Death.

Wc: 829 | JJK Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The ceiling above turns into clouds floating across the blue sky, warmth spreading on the side of his body, and the ringing in his ears slowly fades into the chirps of birds, your laugh echoing before your face comes into view. He no longer feels the searing pain on the side of his body, but the warmth of your palms pressed on his chest, your hair cascading over him.

Nanami remembers this day, this was your first anniversary, the one where he’d accidentally let slip that he loved you for the first time. He still remembers the way your eyes widened, surprise written all over your body language when you looked down to the ground flustered, awkwardly repeating the words back. He’s a bit confused as to why he’s suddenly remembering this, why he’s recalling a moment that was left in the past.

It’s not until he sees his hand reaching up to cup your cheeks that he realizes he’s missed you. His eyes scan your face, thumb coming down to rubbing your bottom lip.

The moment is interrupted when he grimaces in pain, burning hot sensations traveling up his body. Your smile flatters when he does it, light fading from your eyes the wind picking up. You lift yourself off of him, placing one arm on the other side of him.

“I’m not here you know,” you say, the corners of your eyes starting to prick with tears.

He gives you a saddened smile, his hand dropping down to the soft and cool grass beneath him, “I know.”

“If you know, why am I here? Why are you thinking of me when you're dying?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing.

Nanami feels his heart clench, a knot forming in his throat as he watches you start to tear up even more, “That’s exactly why, because I’m dying. I guess I just wanted to see you one last time to see you. I wanted a chance to say, 'sorry for last time.’”

You eyebrows furrow further, a scowl forming on your face, “You could have come and seen me…apologized in person instead of,” you gesture around to the calm scenery around you, “Instead of doing it inside of your head while agonizing on your deathbed.”

Nanami’s eyes focus on a cloud behind you, trying to swallow the lump that’s growing tighter in his throat. You’re right, he could have apologized in person for breaking your heart. He could have come to the apartment to see you at least one and asked you to forgive him for not staying.

But he also knows he did the right thing by not dragging you into this world. Into the world he sadly belonged to. He let you have a normal life by leaving, and that’s something he can’t bring himself to truly regret. It was the right decision even if it made his heart ache

So he looks up at the image of you his brain could form, and takes you in for the last time. “I couldn’t have handled it. Seeing the heartbroken look you would have given me the moment you opened that door, so I did the only thing I could and stayed away. You deserved so much more than this, y/n. More than seeing me die like this.”

“I’ll see it on the news.”

“It won’t hurt as much now, it’s been five years, I doubt you even remember me.”

“How would you know? You’d always hide when you’d see me on the street, so how would you know if I remember you or not?” You scoff, burning your face in his chest.

He stares up at the fluffy white clouds, you’re sniffling reaching his ears, and takes one long deep sigh, “I’m sorry, y/n. I’m sorry for leaving you without giving you a good enough reason. I’m sorry I broke your heart. I’m sorry for not giving you closure. I’m sorry for not saying hi on the streets. I’m sorry for everything.”

You stop sniffling for a moment, huffing out a breath of air, and raise your head to look him in the eyes. “It doesn’t matter anymore, whether you apologize to this version of me or the real me, cause tomorrow you’ll still be dead, and I’ll still be living my life long after wondering if I could have down anything to change where your life went.You didn’t have to go through this alone.”

Nanami smiles once more at you, knowing that you, the real you that wasn’t made up by his brain on the last moments of breath, would have said the same thing. And even then he would have made the same decision to choose to walk the path he chose alone, Because as he feels his brain start to get muggier, the scene around him warping back to the cold and cruel reality of what was happening, he knows that the longest path we have to travel we always do it alone.

Part of my Two Year Event: Open

#🌷. two years here

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fuckyeahmarxismleninism · 2 years ago

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Baltimore Solidarity with Railroad Workers

Wednesday, December 7 - 4:30 pm

McKeldin Square, Light & Pratt Streets, downtown Baltimore

Hosted by Unemployed Workers Union and Peoples Power Assembly

Railroad workers fight for dignity and sick leave.

Stop government strike breaking!

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rockislandadultreads · 1 year ago

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Libby Spotlight: History eAudiobooks

Graveyard of the Pacific by Randall Sullivan (read by Lynch Travis)

Off the coast of Oregon, the Columbia River flows into the Pacific Ocean and forms the Columbia River Bar: a watery collision so turbulent and deadly that it's nicknamed the Graveyard of the Pacific. Two thousand ships have been wrecked on the bar since the first European ship dared to try to cross it. Since then, the commercial importance of the Columbia River has only grown, but despite the construction of jetties on either side, the bar remains treacherous.

When Randall Sullivan and a friend set out to cross the bar in a two-man kayak, they're met with skepticism and concern. But on a clear day in July 2021, when the tides and weather seem right, they embark. As they plunge through the currents that have taken so many lives, Randall commemorates the brave sailors that made the crossing before him—including his own abusive father, a sailor himself who also once dared to cross the bar—and reflects on toxic masculinity, fatherhood, and what drives men to extremes.

Rich with exhaustive research and propulsive narrative, Graveyard of the Pacific follows historical shipwrecks through the moment-by-moment details that often determined whether sailors would live or die, exposing the ways in which boats, sailors, and navigation have changed over the decades.

King by Jonathan Eig (read by Dion Graham)

Vividly written and exhaustively researched, Jonathan Eig's King: A Life is the first major biography in decades of the civil rights icon Martin Luther King Jr.—and the first to include recently declassified FBI files.

In this revelatory new portrait of the preacher and activist who shook the world, the bestselling biographer gives us an intimate view of the courageous and often emotionally troubled human being who demanded peaceful protest for his movement but was rarely at peace with himself. He casts fresh light on the King family's origins as well as MLK's complex relationships with his wife, father, and fellow activists. King reveals a minister wrestling with his own human frailties and dark moods, a citizen hunted by his own government, and a man determined to fight for justice even if it proved to be a fight to the death. As he follows MLK from the classroom to the pulpit to the streets of Birmingham, Selma, and Memphis, Eig dramatically re-creates the journey of a man who recast American race relations and became our only modern-day founding father—as well as the nation's most mourned martyr.

Koresh by Stephan Talty (read by Sean Pratt)

No other event in the last fifty years is shrouded in myth like the 1993 siege of the Branch Davidians in Waco, Texas. Today, we remember this moment for the 76 people, including 20 children, who died in the fire; for its inspiration of the Oklahoma City bombing; and for the wave of anti-government militarism that followed. What we understand far less is what motivated the Davidians' enigmatic leader, David Koresh.

Drawing on first-time, exclusive interviews with Koresh's family and survivors of the siege, bestselling author Stephan Talty paints a psychological portrait of this infamous icon of the 1990s. Born Vernon Howell into the hyper-masculine world of central Texas in the 1960s, Koresh experienced a childhood riven with abuse and isolation. He found a new version of himself in the halls of his local church, and love in the fundamentalist sect of the Branch Davidians. Later, with a new name and professed prophetic powers, Koresh ushered in a new era for the Davidians that prized his own sexual conquest as much as his followers' faith. As one survivor has said, "What better way for a worthless child to feel worth than to become God?"

In his signature immersive storytelling, Talty reveals how Koresh's fixation on holy war, which would deliver the Davidians to their reward and confirm himself as Christ, collided with his paranoid obsession with firearms to destructive effect. Their deadly, 51-day standoff with the embattled FBI and ATF, he shows, embodied an anti-government ethic that continues to resonate today.

The Windsors at War by Alexander Larman (read by Sophie Roberts)

At the beginning of 1937, the British monarchy was in a state of turmoil. The previous king, Edward VIII, had abdicated the throne, leaving his unprepared and terrified brother Bertie to become George VI, surrounded by a gaggle of courtiers and politicians who barely thought him up to the job. Meanwhile, as the now-Duke of Windsor awaited the decree that would allow him to marry his mistress Wallis Simpson, he took an increased interest in the expansionist plans of Adolf Hitler. He may even have gone so far as to betray his country in the process. And as double agents and Nazi spies thronged the corridors of Buckingham Palace, the only man the King could trust was his Prime Minister, Winston Churchill. But they faced a formidable, even unbeatable, adversary: his own brother.

The Windsors at War tells the never-before-told story of World War Two in Britain and America with a fresh focus on the royal family, their conflicted relationships, and the events that rocked the international press. How did this squabbling, dysfunctional family manage to put their differences aside and unite to help win the greatest conflict of their lifetimes? Alexander Larman, author of The Crown in Crisis, now chronicles the Windsor family at war with Germany—and each other.

#history #nonfiction #nonfiction books #nonfiction reads #audiobooks #libby #library books #reading recommendations #reading recs #book recommendations #book recs #tbr #tbrpile #to read #booklr #book tumblr #book blog #library blog

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treuallahtreuvulieou · 2 years ago

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Raw Business pages

The early Friday morning, Friday March thirty first ...

A fair Thursday, TBH Thursday along with A special Thursday surprise.... Friday The Art of War and the year 2012 none of the Above motion picture theatrical titles

Case load : Motion picture fiction and nonfiction orders imaginiction.. cross reference.

Business Founder legal Acquistioner by day and Super hero by night.. seems to right

War wrong and right , who wants to be Wrong.

Being Grown should show character growth

Business seems to be rather lonely A Super man counter without super friends ..

Justice League...

League of Justice Could use some one like me , my self reflecting super hero!

Time gone by after time came and went and G Letter 7 before one ... It's one twice A day accurately..

Ante meridiem?

Post and Past Meridiem

Same difference ..... Noted

A letter one and O letter fifteen

One plus five equals Six.. not Female sex ..

Oh with Business comes the gender bender , all Employees are A sex of gender among two .

31CA California Abbreviation.

Another Harbor Place Blue Water Water Blue Night into A 10 to 5 Enoch Pratt Free library above Pratt and Liberty.

In A City where pronunciation has been A problem my Entirety among some people speaking words and spelling Words and Sword can be rather hard to tolerate from others ...

Did sounds like dead !

Pizza is Pissa ...

A IZZ is A 988 Porsche.

An ISS is International space services , Special services and International Space Station.

Well an ISS could be an Emergency Policia call code if not it had to be A Porsche 911

An Enoch Pratt Free day directly below Hooters and Early morning just A few feet South at Divider line Between China Town Little Aikami and Little Italy at Bubba Gump shrimp company Business at Conway below between International Way

Supanos marks the Little Italy Spot , past the grape vine ....

So not interested in Alcoholics!

Water street Light Mercer and Grant .

Warren Association Terrorism Emergency Response, The Intelligence Business..

Maybe I should Request A Intelligence Quotient on my every quotation...!

Intelligent Quotes Become Famous in short time ! So famous some one should name them ..... One thing for sure Name or Fame A quotation could not spell it's own name and blessed it be with an Amen and value of mean .

Sitting 10:44 A little later looking at my designated location, J:DD or J:XXXXIV secured.. Roman X I and V Pythagorean 10 9 and 22 ...

Self to self, tubeyou communication YouTube...

Google Business.....!

In A Stare and an uneasy state of being, sitting at 311 Cathedral just below Mulberry, Basilica Just outside of sight .

My left the Archdiocese..

To my field of view Family Business.

In my Northern West general position legal Responsibility Enoch Pratt Free library

General Legal Part time hours say wait A short I am rather Early, Besides it's Friday Closing time is A 5 pm

Weirdly more than enough time not to blow off A Community and International Support Group meeting, Just be in Attendance if even for occupational professional reasons or an Alibi.

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kawaiiinla · 2 years ago

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Rest in Peace P-22

A Eulogy for P-22, A Mountain Lion Who Changed the World

• Beth Pratt

• Dec 17, 2022

‘It’s My Hope that Future Mountain Lions Will Be Able to Walk in the Steps of P-22 Without Risking Their Lives on California’s Highways, Streets’

“Yet a mountain lion lived here, right here in Los Angeles.

“I can’t finish this sentence without crying because of the past tense. It’s hard to imagine I will be writing about P-22 in the past tense now.

“I don’t have any illusion that my presence or words comforted him. And I left with a great sadness I will carry for the rest of my days.

#not me crying on my couch #animal rights now #Los Angeles mountain lion #land bridges everywhere #p 22

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paulrennie · 3 months ago

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Unpacking my Library • Corto Maltese • Hugo Pratt • c2000s

The Italian illustrator, Hugo Pratt, created the comic-book character, Corto Maltese at the end of the 1960s. He is an adventurer, in the grand manner, whose exploits play out against the backdrop of early 20C conflicts. A figure deriving from the great-game, Conrad, Buchan and with a bit of OO7 thrown-in....Hardboiled, but with a romantic soft-centre. The big theme is one of liberty, personal independence and autonomy deriving from PJ Proudhon and Samuel Smiles...it's definitely a dynamic form of liberty, absolutely aligned with the late 1960s.

Pratt's drawing style is a ligne-clair with a fat marker-pen style nib, and with the exaggerated contrasts associated with the pin-sharp lighting of cinema and fashion-shoot by Bailey. It's no accident that these comic-book story-boards are laid ot in the style of spaghetti western editing. The fourth-wall is broken by the dynamic POV and close-ups across the page-spreads. This style of art-direction later inspired Frank Miller.

Pratt combined the precision and accuracy of Herge's Tintin drawings; but added the visual excitement of New Wave cinema and a sort of street-style fashion energy. It's a kind of steam-punk before steam-punk, and with accurate military and mechanical detail.

Not surprisingly for this kind of figure, Corto, has a whole series of romantic female companions, who are each drawn in 1960s film-star style; shades of Dina Rigg as Emma Peel, Joanna Lumley as Purdey and Françoise Hardy etc etc.

In its original form Corto was syndicated and published across various European newsprint publications. These more-recent books present whole adventures in a coherent and high-quality format, and with some explanatory text. They bring a bit of added-value to the design, presentation and packaging.

From our 21C perspective, the great-game so described has an evident subtext of colonial imperialism and the exoticising male-gaze deriving from the prevailing cinema codes.

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andynortonuk · 8 months ago

Video

vimeo

ALAN THE INFINITE from Parabella on Vimeo.

Alan’s excited! It’s his first day at Lamin’8– a stale, grey, humdrum lamination company. Oh boy! If he buckles up, stays focused and impresses Gary, his unhinged boss, this might just be a job for life. But all is not quite as it seems, and when Alan accidentally unleashes cosmic, supernatural forces into the office, he realises that fitting in at Lamin’8 is going to be infinitely more tricky than he ever could have dreamed.

CREDITS Written & Directed by - Mikey Please & Dan Ojari Produced by - Mikey Please, Dan Ojari, Alex Holberton & Kev Harwood Executive Producers - Mikey Please & Dan Ojari, James Stevenson Bretton, Tom Stuart & Bart Yates Music by - Ben Please & Beth Porter @ The Bookshop band

CAST ALAN - Dan Ojari GARY - Baker Terry PREA - Theodora van Der Beek SUSAN - Jessica Rayner NEIL - Rob Carter SCIENTIST - Elliot Dear

Sound Design - Adam Janota Bzowski, Ben Please & Dan Ojari Sound Mastering - Simon Harris @ Offset

DOP - Simon Paul Camera Assistant. - Giles Warner Additional lighting - Mikey Please, Dan Ojari, Peter Elmore & Max Halstead

Lead Animators - Andy Biddle, Dan Gill, Steve Warne, Anthony Farquhar Smith, Mikey Please & Dan Ojari Animators - James Carlisle, Luke George, Rachael Olga, Nick Black & Angie Palethorpe

Puppet Design - Mikey Please Puppet Fabrication - Mikey Please, Adeena Grub, Rosie Tonkin & Thomas O’Meara Rigging - Robin Jackson Crowd Puppets design and fabrication - Adeena Grub and Natasha Wigoder

Set Design - Dan Ojari Art Direction - Dan Ojari, Emma Rose & Kat Simpson

Modelmakers - Katy Haggerty-Marks, Becky Weston, Rachael Olga, Nick Black, Luke George, Campbell Hartley, Emily Suvanvej, Millie Tennant, Adeena Grubb, Antonia Trister, Jack Pratt, Rebecca Howell, Steph Marshall, Natasha Wigoder, Beatriz Dominguez, Sofia Rodriguez Serrano, Maria Crus, Mireia Mendez & Brin Frost

2D facial Animation - Mikey Please Additional 2D - Mathias Sgard & Elliot Dear

Lead Compositor - Mikey Please Additional compositing - Mathias Sgard, Dan Ojari, Simone Ghilardoti & Tom Fisher Grade - Elroy Gaskin-Payne @ Onsight

Post Production Supervisor - Benjamin Lole Post Production Manager - Mira Valcheva Post Production Creative Supervisor - Quentin Vien 3D Modelling - Lisa George-Gilroy Rig Removal & 3D facial tracking - Elipse FX Production Support - Ali Albion

Recording Engineer - Robert Frank Hunter

Behind The Scenes Film - Joseph Eckworth

THANK YOU - Charlie Perkins, Matt Day, David Cann, David Lupsein, David Rodger, Katie-Mae Griffith, Lydia Larson, Cross Street Studios, Clapham Road Studios

A Parabella Studios & Blink Industries Film

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kartikdutt · 9 months ago

Video

vimeo

ALAN THE INFINITE from Parabella on Vimeo.

CAST ALAN - Dan Ojari GARY - Baker Terry PREA - Theodora van Der Beek SUSAN - Jessica Rayner NEIL - Rob Carter SCIENTIST - Elliot Dear

Sound Design - Adam Janota Bzowski, Ben Please & Dan Ojari Sound Mastering - Simon Harris @ Offset

DOP - Simon Paul Camera Assistant. - Giles Warner Additional lighting - Mikey Please, Dan Ojari, Peter Elmore & Max Halstead

Lead Animators - Andy Biddle, Dan Gill, Steve Warne, Anthony Farquhar Smith, Mikey Please & Dan Ojari Animators - James Carlisle, Luke George, Rachael Olga, Nick Black & Angie Palethorpe

Set Design - Dan Ojari Art Direction - Dan Ojari, Emma Rose & Kat Simpson

2D facial Animation - Mikey Please Additional 2D - Mathias Sgard & Elliot Dear

Lead Compositor - Mikey Please Additional compositing - Mathias Sgard, Dan Ojari, Simone Ghilardoti & Tom Fisher Grade - Elroy Gaskin-Payne @ Onsight

Recording Engineer - Robert Frank Hunter

Behind The Scenes Film - Joseph Eckworth

THANK YOU - Charlie Perkins, Matt Day, David Cann, David Lupsein, David Rodger, Katie-Mae Griffith, Lydia Larson, Cross Street Studios, Clapham Road Studios

A Parabella Studios & Blink Industries Film

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hitchell-mope · 11 months ago

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Hypothetical titles for season 21 of 88.

Born under Venus. Season premiere. Part one. Drummond and Odessa face a pregnancy scare which leads Findlay to getting a diagnosis of her own. First appearances of Wyatt Oleff and Sacha Carlson as Barnaby and Jonah Sullivan.

Something you should know. Season premiere. Part two. Not wanting to cause a fuss, Findlay tries to keep her menopause under wraps. But a new revelation from Drummond’s threatens to derail her best intentions.

As seen on tv. Maybelle, Aida and Jacob take three cases with parameters that are incredibly similar to tv shows like Party Of Five, Malcolm In The Middle and Full House.

Red light. Join Caine Christensen for a night on the town and a murder mystery involving hookers in New York City’s Red Light District.

Category four blonde moment. Findlay and Delaney team up with Skipper and Oswald to get the chairman of a prestigious school admittance board fired for not putting Theo on the waitlist because he’s got two white fathers even though they could’ve asked Lucia to put him on the waitlist for The Cabal Academy. Guest starring Sterling K Brown as Chairman Mitchell Kelvin.

Going in blind. Drummond sets up Jonah on a blind date with the great grandson of an old associate of his. There’s just one problem. Jonah’s exclusively interested in older men. And the blind date is his age.

Stupid o’clock in the morning. Between the hours of 1-4 am. The heads of The Five Families hold a meeting to decide how to proceed with the Winchester situation.

The vamp from Savannah. Thornton accompanies Lucia to a gallery opening held by one of her old friends. Guest starring Marisa Tomei as Kelsey Crewe

Run and repeat. The entire state of New York goes on Red Alert when Theo is kidnapped. Features the one episode return of Bette Midler as Mutter Alptraum.

The debate. Knowing that Jonah’s feeling left out. Barnaby tries to get Findlay and Sidney to lift the dating restrictions.

Traverse the psychology of the neurone flow. Solaris and Gideon band together when they get trapped inside Jones’s brain.

The NYPD choir. Midseason finale. Part one. The return of an old friend gets Findlay to rethink the “no dating” rule she gave to Jonah. Meanwhile. Thornton runs into trouble when he wants to revive the eponymous singing group for a charity gala. Guest starring Kumail Nanjiani as Vikram Claus.

Fairytale of New York. Midseason premiere. Part two. Thornton and Jacob try to think of a way to allow them to use the choir how they want. Meanwhile. Findlay and Sidney sit down with Jonah for an important conversation.

Church vs state. Findlay horrifies Jones, Jacob and Deucalion when she orders taxes on every religious place of worship in New York State.

A face to the name. Thornton is stabbed in the street. But Drummond knows exactly who did it. Guest starring Elliot Page as Morgan Ambrose, Hannah Waddingham as his wife Fairfax and Chris Pratt as Emerson Davenport.

The royal family. Tina’s brother Jasper (returning guest star Jack Whitehall) visits with the unfortunate message that Rani (Rhianne Barreto) and Aimee (Auli’i Cravalho) have run away from Balmoral Castle with their newborn son. Also guest starring Jane Horrocks as Nanny Manx.

Mutually beneficial. Jonah has gotten his first boyfriend. A middle aged, incredibly down on his luck Hugh Jackman impersonator that he met at a Dear Evan Hansen audition. Guest starring Hugh Jackman as Jack Hughes

Mother bears intuition. Delaney, Sonya and Kimberly try to get Findlay to calm down about Jonah’s new relationship. With very little success

Kiss me I’m Irish. Due to being physically attractive middle aged parents. Findlay and Sidney are chosen to go undercover in a swingers group. Guest starring Robert Sheehan and Tom Hopper as the Pike cousins.

Protection. Barnaby approaches Dr Corsica with an entrepreneurial idea that would benefit everyone with his lifestyle. Guest Jaeden Martell as Beckett Palmer.

Decisions, decisions. Barnaby and Jonah disagree on how to plan their 20th birthday party so much so that Findlay lets Drummond plan it instead.

Standards and practices. Findlay, Sidney and Drummond giving opposing, extremely contradictory and highly confusing safe sex talks to Barnaby and Jonah.

Nonniversary. Season finale. Part one. Sidney and Findlay prepare to celebrate their 20th wedding anniversary. But a visit from Tina’s father, who by some insane coincidence was also their wedding planner, brings an unwelcome revelation about their marriage. Guest starring Tom Ellis as Lord Aled Bevan Carew-Downey.

I do over. Season finale. Part two. In the 500th episode. The Five Families go all out to give Sidney and Findlay the wedding they should have had 20 years ago.

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theadmiringbog · 1 year ago

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What was football but barely legalized fighting?

It was Pratt’s duty to carry out policy, no matter what he thought of it. Ultimately, there was no question in his mind that American civilization was the superior one. The Army was on the frontier to clear the way so that the West could become a place where, as General Sherman put it, things could reassuringly “be counted, taxed and governed.”29 For Pratt to question that mission would have meant rounding a psychological bend, rejecting all of his schoolbook values, hymnal Christianity, and presumptions of American destiny. Pratt simply wasn’t prepared to do that.

She wept to see something so familiar again, but she also wept because soon other houses would be built next to the small homestead. Then there would be another settlement, and the country would be ruined.

the students only knew that a piece of their Indian selves had been taken away, one more profound than their clothes or braids. With their names went entire histories and inheritances.

November 6, 1869, is officially identified as the date of the first formal intercollegiate game, between Princeton and Rutgers, but it was just an unruly brawl between men who removed their velvet-collared coats to play “kill the ballcarrier.”

From the beginning, the American game differed from its British public school antecedent, rugby, in three major ways: its creativity, its violence, and its total lack of principle.

won. Scholar Frederick Jackson Turner would identify 1890 as the year in which America became fully colonized—if a frontier was defined as “the existence of an area of free land,” he argued, then it had vanished, replaced by settlements. Technology was fast outstripping the human body, and men no longer relied for their livelihoods on their ability to conquer the land. In the streets, mechanized vehicles vied with horse-drawn ones—sometimes with catastrophic results, as horses stampeded and trains ran off rails. Electrical and gas-powered apparatus gave off great bursts of light that illuminated fast-growing cities.29 But with urbanity came anxiety. When electricity was installed in the White House in 1889, President Benjamin Harrison and his wife were so afraid of the light switches that they refused to touch them. They left the lights burning all night, until an orderly arrived in the morning to douse them.30 America experienced a collective fear that mechanization could result in male atrophy and even effeminacy. Increasingly, Gilded Age young men turned to sport as an antidote for pervasive cultural weakening. If football was a game of excesses, its enthusiasts considered it well worth it.

Yellow highlight | Page: 109

It was the perfect contest for young men of a newly industrialized society. Camp rationalized that it was less a game than a “science” requiring intelligence, execution, strategy, timing, and collaboration, as well as strength. The football player was uniquely positioned to straddle the old and new worlds: he employed his body and yet he was able to intellectually grasp and employ new mechanics, methods, and industries. The game was therefore the ultimate teaching tool for a new kind of robust managerial executive. As historian David Wallace Adams puts it, football was “an ideal forum for creating the new American man—half Boone, half Rockefeller.”

In 1880, just seven thousand whites lived in the region. By the turn of the century, more than one million would occupy it.

When a land commissioner tried to argue a Shoshone chief named Washakie into farming his 160-acre plot, Washakie shouted back in frustration, “God damn a potato!”9

as school book say, genius capacity for taking infinite pain.

any student crossing the quadrangle who looked tall enough or wide enough was hustled to the field “to see if there is any football in him, or not,”

#books #the real all americans

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the-most-golden-year · 2 years ago

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Entry No. 10

You're in the backseat. There are waves hitting you, back and forth, back and forth. You remember this old tape that you borrowed from the local library. It was one of those old National Geographic VHS tapes about ocean life. That used to be your drug as a kid, as you would sit on this old white table with blue legs, a plastic yellow chair to cover your backside. And you would sit in front of the TV with plastic animals, all lined up like the flood was happening right in the living room of your one-floor house.

You always loved the orcas, how they jumped out of the water and went back in so gracefully, and yet they were the size of giants described in fairytales that you would hear as lullabies.

That's what the fireball is doing to you right now. You're a dancer putting on the best performance of your life. One move to the next. It all flows together. Living life in 60 frames.

Something's missing. Words.

"Let me hold you," you mumble to Jesse.

"What?"

"Like, I mean, you know what I mean?"

"I don't think so, no."

You both kinda nervously laugh like two criminals barely getting away from the scene of action.

"Are we almost there yet?"

"We haven't even left my driveway. What did you take?"

"I don't have to tell you. I don't have to tell you shit."

Jesse turns on the radio. It's some folk punk band that she likes that you fucking hate.

"Turn this shit off, yo."

"No," she says with a sigh, "I don't think I will."

As she pulls out of the driveway, she scrapes the dumpster, and the wheels clack out of the gates and into the street. You look at all of these lights. They're the only things you can see. What are they? Are you on a different planet? You always wanted to be a spaceman, until you saw that fucking horrible Chris Pratt and Jennifer Lawrence movie. Now you don't wanna be stuck in space and slutted out among the stars.

"Why can't you just sing a song, Jesse?"

"I can't sing."

"You can sing."

"No, I can't sing."

"Everybody can sing. Everybody has a voice, everybody can sing."

"Why don't you sing?"

"I can't sing."

Jesse sighs, turns the music up a little bit louder. She makes it to the end of the street, by the comic book shop and the law firm, both places where you've been stoned before. She turns left, starts driving at a faster pace, past all of these banks that you've never been inside of. On the left, there's a space where a school used to be. Where did it go? Did it get abducted by aliens who are curious about American history? You sure hope they like Schoolhouse Rock.

"I'm hungry," you proclaim.

"Just be patient, we'll be home before you know it."

"No, like I'm hungry now. I want food."

"There's nothing around that's open."

"There's a Speedway right up there. Let's get some taquitos. I'd fucking run over a family of squirrels right now for some fucking taquitos."

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islahvnt · 2 years ago

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At first, a look of horror crosses her face - did he just.. It curled something of fleeting irritation in the tips of her fingers. Those still clinging to the bottle in her hand tightened just slightly before she forced the feeling away, "Maid? Do I look like I should be someone's maid?" The ways in which his features shifted with the smirk playing at his lips were, admittedly, enough to keep her from lashing out. The near-immediate desire to rip his tongue out no longer slammed against the forefront of her mind. "Does that mouth of yours get you into trouble often? I'll bet it does. If you haven't been slapped already tonight, you just might soon enough." Still, the telltale hint of humor dances within the tone of her voice, and oddly enough, she can't find enough of a reason to be angry with any minor hint of sexist inclinations. "I'm happy to take one for the team." The slight bump he pressed in against her was enough to topple her gently to one side. One foot stammering over the other to keep her footing as she swore beneath her breath. Cocky pratt. "It says that you're either a complete fucking moron or a serial killer. The jury's still out on which, but I've got an entire arsenal of knowledge from crime podcasts, don't think I'm not entirely onto you, sir." Not to mention an extracurricular of committing brutal and gruesome murders herself. This - this was what freedom felt like. When it couldn't be bottled in anger, blood, and bone; she remembered the feeling well. Blooming in the breadth of her chest as he stopped and turned to her. "A recycling bin? How generous of you." She spoke, almost snorting out her response as if she might have truly felt a hint of offense. "Is that what you think? That I'd just.. let you kill me? Jesus man, give a girl a fighting chance at least." It was an honest question - the vanity within her was always interested to hear how little of a threat people made her out to be, this, apparently, was no different. "Shouldn't I be the judge of whether you're a threat to me or not?" Spoken as she moved towards him, her words perforated by a slight, near-gentle jab of her finger to his chest as she moved beyond him and further into the street. "A shark doesn't openly claim to be a threat before taking a bite." And, as if to further punctuate as much, her teeth chomp together loudly. She could just as surely swim dangerous waters without taking a breath. Beneath the surface, the jagged edge of the teeth she carried around with her was just as deadly as the last. Surely, by now, she might have been able to swallow the idea that this man held about as much of a filter within the palms of his hands as she did - and yet, her eyes widened at the mention of his blue balls, the cigarette tucked between her lips the only reason the sound of her laugh didn't amplify within the street they walked. "Ohh, so you weren't kidding when you said women didn't ask, so you didn't bother." He made a point though, she had approached him - a cunning wolf in sheeps clothing - or next to no clothing, when one considered her choice of clothing, "Any sane man would run at the predicament of a woman alone in an alley, but since the number of cigarettes I could have tonight are on the line and your degree of sanity are indeed questionable... We'll agree to disagree."

It would have been easy to miss, had she not been paying close attention to his features beneath the street lights. The slight shift that might otherwise have been invisible didn't surpass her notice. It wasn't something that she'd press further - they all had their demons, and her own was what kept her from being afraid - from falling asleep. He could keep his; she had no interest in breaking the illusion just yet. "Yeah, you never asked." Though neither had she and though she hadn't realized it before now, part of her didn't feel the need to know. Something about continuing on as if names and all else didn't matter... Hues narrowed slightly as she once again cast hues in his direction - was she so willing? "You're clearly not a frequent visitor at the Venue," she murmured beneath something of another laugh, "We have over-attentive frat boys, pigs with money to spend, and a lot of aging white men that think they're gods gift." And yet, she still pandered to each and every one of them to get whatever information she could - for now. "It's strictly working, this is just.. an in-between gig for me. Nothing permanent." If she had her own way, she'd be back out spilling blood for the Rutherfords as she was meant to be. "Isla, by the way." The blonde added soon after, offering up a slice of truth in the web of lies created to maintain the order of her life "My name., I mean. It's Isla, and you? Personally, I happen to like big bird, but for the same of civility.."

Doe hues caught his own a handful of times, stolen glances as they crossed over into even deeper uncertainty than before. Let him look, she thought, for once not feeling the need to shirk away at the dirty barrage of wandering hands and filthy thoughts left behind within the nightclub. "And you've still managed to make it through the day looking like that? How awfully fucking tragic for you. Honestly, it must be difficult." Sarcasm was rife within the tone of her voice, each word as sharp as a blade as she rolled hues into the back of her head, "And what is that exactly? Your job?" A place right around the corner. Inevitably, he could have meant a great many places and her mind seemed to whirl with what exactly it was he had in mind. "I don't need a reason to kick your ass, but thanks for the formally accepted permission. It's the perfect gift a stranger can give honestly." "Where exactly are we going?" Two footsteps of her own kept her close enough in pace to him that she could, in return bump into his side, "Some place quieter and darker than the last? Should I be concerned?" The humor in her tone was a quiet admittance that she wasn't worried - rather curious at what exactly this burly man had planned.

asislahvnt:

Lips pursed, Isla considered what he was saying with little thought and far more animation than necessary, eying him over as he lay claim to what the world seemingly was. “Are you kidding?” It sounds something of a scoff as she casts an offhanded wave of her hand in his direction, “You lot are still pounding your chests and searching for dominance, you’re just sleeping in carefully curated homes instead of the dirt - and we’re still cleaning up after you.” Truly, she couldn’t trace back the steps to figure out how the conversation had landed here, but neither was she mad that the words, “you, me” and, “my place”, hadn’t yet converged.

The grin that bloomed on his features caught her attention. Part of him glistened a little differently with it - as if somewhere in his mind he’d rewound the time and landed himself somewhere else, somewhere altogether better than a dirty, dimly lit alley in London. “I don’t even know you, you could tell me anything and claim you were being honest.” Which, was true for either of them, but that certainly didn’t stop her from calling him out on what she figured might be bullshit. “And what about your balls?” Spoken deadpanned and without a moments hesitation as she took another long drag on her cigarette, “They must be rather small for you to corner a lone woman in an alley like this.” The corner of her mouth switches just slightly. Not exactly how things truly were playing out but had anyone else stumbled upon them now, there was no reason for anyone to think anything beyond just that was happening. “Men don’t scare me.” Truth. You don’t scare me, she wonders if he’s realised that yet.

A lot of things had scared her in the past - but people? People were easy. They broke, bled - died. And while she was no different, Isla was just as capable of inflicting pain upon another as she could suffer. Perhaps that was what made the idea of coming up to a man she barely knew little more than a passing thought.

“And I see that’s going well for you,” doe hues peered beyond him to the empty alley and street beyond, still - the only two people outside of the club at the moment. “Are you always so successful on a night out? Or is this just an off night for you?”

She didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered, and unlike some, she neither shied away nor lent into it. Attention wasn’t something new to her; if anything, she’d spent most of her life using it to her advantage and now.. Now the Rutherford’s wanted her to use it too. “I was on break,” and now, with present company, she wasn’t certain she intended on going back for the night. “I bartend.” It was enough information for him to run with, even more for him to draw conclusions if he should so wish.

The bottle in her hand hung loosely within her fingertips, knocking gently against her bare thigh as he lent inward and offered up something she didn’t expect to hear from him. Her laugh sounded loudly, blond locks thrown back as her head tilted she found it impossible to see beyond that feeling in her stomach. “So what you’re telling me is that you’re an absolute catch, huh? Do you at least separate whites from darks?”

Too high of an expectation, she imagined. Smaller - think much smaller.

And then he spoke again and caught her mildly off guard; she knew it had to be in there somewhere. Neither naive nor a narcissist, she’d felt the weight of his gaze as it scoured her body in the dim, harsh lighting, “What about yours? You’re not worried about that pretty face?:

Teeth score over her lesser lip, pulling it backwards as she sighed loudly, almost incessantly so. Isla wasn’t certain that charmed would be the word she’d used - but he didn’t make her want to claw her own eyes out - or his for that matter, that had to count for something? However, he finishes his own train of thought and she offers up nothing to suggest differently despite being presented the opportunity to verbally rip him to pieces. “Maybe, indeed.”

For a moment, she simply watches, dragging the beer bottle up from her side to finish off. A moment longer to contemplate whether she finds any real reason to head back inside; tethered and cooped up by the Rutherford’s order to lay low - or follow the stranger into the dark of the night. But she’s her father’s daughter; and no amount of dangling the unknown right in front of her would ever truly keep her at bay, “This truly is an inconvenience you know?” Unlike so many of her coworkers, Isla is smarter than to wear heels, the scuff of her tennis shoes against gravel carrying her an iota quicker than the torture devices women claimed as shoes - which, admittedly, wasn’t very quickly. If anything, she meandered behind

“Okay, Big Bird but I’m warning you, any funny business and I’m not completely against tearing out those pretty blue eyes of yours.”

‘‘Hey — if you’re still cleaning up after men, you’re looking in the wrong places. But, just for reference, if you’re looking for a job as a maid, I’d hire you…just to help out and all.’‘ Even saying those words, there was a smirk tugging at the corner of his bearded mouth, eyes alight with something new and at ease. It’d been a long time, as he’d previously mentioned, since he’d been able to just feel at ease, letting conversation flow from his mouth without fear of judgement.

However, there was still time for him to fuck up. And from the looks of things she was one hundred and ten percent the kind of girl to give him a beating if he did anything out of line. He’d known a few women like that in his time, had been lucky enough to fight and work alongside some of the best of them.

Olivier Fontaine couldn’t help but smile down upon the petite blonde.

Stepping forward he used his shoulder to bump hers, and began on his walk.

However, catching her looking at him, had him gulp.

‘‘I don’t know you, and yet, I’m inviting you with me. What does that say?’’ He sighed, coming to a stop for a moment, taking just a second to look at her, features soft. Yet, the words that left his mouth could have been taken one way or another. ‘’Look — if I wanted to kill you I’d have done it already. In the alley away from people, cameras, roads…there was a recycling bin back there that would have been just fine.’‘ He jutted his thumb over his shoulder back in the direction. ‘’The point I’m trying to make is, we don’t know each other. But I’m no threat.’’

Not to you, anyway.

Of course, he didn’t say that out loud. However, the second she mentioned his balls he was chucking his head back to laugh. ‘‘My balls are blue, but if you’re asking…’‘ He trailed off, obvious he was kidding as he literally giggled lightly under his breath, shoving hands into pockets, a quick side-eye to Isla. ‘’However, you might want to rephrase that. You approached me in the alley — lighter, and all. That’s if you want to keep smoking this evening.’’

He was teasing, and Olivier was loving it. There was this big fuck-off grin plastered across his face as the darkness of the alley way began to seep into the back, the noise of cars and people chattering began to close in on them, and the quietness, even if only for a moment, was missed.

Where did they go from here?

Something caught him off guard however; the comment that men didn’t scare her. So with pursed lips, dropping his gaze to the gravel beneath his feet, he whispered. ‘’They scare me.’’ And there wasn’t a lie there, he’d seen just what men could do. Had been a witness to their brutality. Maybe she had, and she had toughened up because the world had left her no choice.

But being scared? It was the best possible way to be. He’d explained and had this conversation with Emine just day’s prior, and he wasn’t about to have it again. So he smiled and nodded. And just hoped that one day, she’d realise fear wasn’t all that bad.

It meant you were alive.

‘‘What’s your name? — Honestly, I can’t believe I’m only just asking.’’ Olivier admitted. ‘’If we’re spending time with each other it’d be nice to refer to you as…’‘ He trailed off ‘‘Unless you want me to just keep referring to you as Smurf’‘

Olivier snapped his head to her.

‘‘Me? Successful? You gotta’ be kidding right? I’m usually the joke of the group slinking home with my tail between my legs — ‘‘ He wouldn’t mention that the place they all usually congregated was French-owned establishments, or the Vixen. Although classy, it wasn’t really the image he was trying to portray to his new friend tonight. ‘‘What about you? Off getting lucky being a bar tender, or is it strictly work and being professional?’‘

It seemed like they fell into easy flows of conversation, like they could banter for hours without taking any real offence. He wasn’t sure how to explain it, he was usually a lot more closed off on initial meetings because of his job role. Being a bodyguard meant preparing for every eventuality, yet, tonight? He just felt like enjoying himself.

Being spontaneous.

‘‘Separating? Isn’t that colour catchers are for? Get with the times, Smurf.’‘

He didn’t even continue on the matter, every few moments taking a glance that even he couldn’t deny his wandering eye fell to the figure. He was a man, what did they expect? He liked to look and he wasn’t ashamed of it, especially when they looked like she did. Delectable. ‘’My face has been rearranged enough times to know it can’t get any better.’’ A play on words, reaching up to run a hand along his bearded cheek, he was of course playing, shrugging his shoulder.

‘‘If someone did, they do? Like, I don’t fear a fight, it comes with my own job description.’‘

The second she bit her lip, however, he lingered just for a moment. God damn. He was a man, she’d said as much, and right now he was unfortunately proving her right. However, instead he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and continued in their direction. ‘’There’s a place just around the corner, nice, quiet.’’

It was enough said.

‘‘If I get you into any trouble, I give you a free pass to kick my ass, Smurf. How about that?’‘

#* olivier

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