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dreamsister81 · 1 year

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An account by fan Albert Jagger (friend of photographer Gavin Woods) on seeing Jeff over three momentous days via FB, March 18, 2020:

I think that the Bunjies gig has already been well documented, but from a personal point of view the place was already packed out when I got there. The place was a Turkish (I think) coffee & cake cafe in a basement, it had two rooms (one for the cafe and one for the performance space, both about the size of a double bedroom), people were crammed into both rooms and the stairs leading down from the street were also full with people trying to crane the necks just to get a glimpse inside the performance room through the single doorway. There was a great air of expectation.

Jeff walked through the crowd giving out single flowers from a big bunch on his way to the performance room, stopping to say hello to a few folk on his way to the "stage" (just a small area in the corner). Despite it being busy and not too loud, everyone fell silent as soon as Jeff started and were polite enough to watch a couple of songs and shuffle around so others could also see. I managed to glimpse a few songs towards the end of the set through the head filled doorway.

The set itself was very similar to the expanded Sin'e album, a few from Grace / some songs in development / random covers.

After the gig I took the poster from the street outside and chatted to a few people. There was a rumour of another show the same night around the corner at Andy's guitar shop. I figured it was worth a try and made my way there as the Bunjies crowd dispersed into the streets.

The Forge was a tiny venue space attached to the guitar shop, with a stage about 1m square. When I got there a father and son were playing some blues to a handfull of people.

When people from the Bunjies gig started to drift in they must have thought they'd hit the big time! It wasn't too long before Jeff and his small entourage arrived. This gig seemed a lot more relaxed than Bunjies as it was now getting late (me and a friend had already resigned ourselves to getting a night bus home) and many people had got the tube home.

There was a bit more chatting to the small crowd between songs (Jeff asked if anyone had anything to smoke, as I'd just come back from Amsterdam I rolled him a joint while he did the next song). After the gig Jeff signed my Bunjies poster.

On the way out I was told that he was playing another show the next day (Saturday 19th) at Rough Trade record shop in Covent Garden at midday to launch the Sin'e EP. The Rough Trade set was quite short and more of an in-store signing session (they had a box of Sin'e EPs for sale, but I don't think it was released until the following week).

The things that stick out for me at this gig (apart from Jeff writing a message on my EP cover) are Jeff signing the ceiling (it was a low basement shop, I have been back since but it had become a trainer shop with the ceiling now painted over) and bizarrely Jeff saying that Kurt Cobain needed to be very careful, he seemed genuinely worried about Kurt's welfare. I went home and played the Sin'e CD on repeat.

On the Sunday morning (20th) I remembered meeting a lady at Bunjies who told me that Jeff was playing her youth club on Sunday night in Stevenage. I drove to Stevenage on Sunday afternoon with only the name of the club in my head (Bowes Lyon youth club), it is amazing how anything got arranged in those days with no internet and basic mobile phones!

After stopping a few times to ask directions I found the club (attached to a pub, The Red Lion?) when I walked in there were young teens who had turned up to see their grunge / punky mates band running around along with family of the band.

I couldnt see anyone from the previous 2 days and was starting to think i was in the wrong place until I saw Jeffs face popping out from under a pile of coats on a sofa, catching a nap before the show.

As often happens at small gigs, once the young band had played there crowd and family seemed to drift away, so it was quite empty by the time Jeff played, with maybe 30 people there.

Looking back this seemed to be the last of this period for Jeff without the band, he was goofing around more tonight - stopping to run through a series of "modelling poses" when he saw a camera and giving verbal production notes in between lyrics "and this is where the drums kick in, etc...".

I had a long drive back home so didn't stick around after the gig.

The next time I saw him play was with the band at The Garage, showcasing much of the Grace album in a much more streamlined show. (📷 Kevin Westernberg)

#jeff buckley #fan story #mylove #supremebeing #favorite #music

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whatisreggieshortfor · 2 years

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Domesticity

For @callmebeem

Bobby x MC, Lucas & Bobby & Chelsea & MC, Lucas x Chelsea

When Leila and Bobby got their place together, they didn’t expect two house guests. But after two weeks of this new dynamic? They wouldn’t change it for anything.

Chelsea had announced a visit one day, out of the blue, merely stating the fact that she missed her bra and who was essentially her new brother in law too much. So she showed up at their doorstep the same afternoon, in her normal fanfare of excited squeals and pink.

Due to being concerned about his girlfriend’s lack of responses to his texts, Lucas showed up not too long after to check if they’d heard from her or seen her, just to find her in the kitchen baking with Bobby. Leila giggled when he tried to keep up his frustration in the face of Chelsea’s apologetic pout, and failed.

Thus started their unusual living situation. Chelsea had planned to stay the weekend, but come Sunday she still didn’t want to leave Leila. Lucas had sighed, agreeing to stay another night when their friends said it was okay. But that one night led to another. And another. And another. Eventually the place Leila and Bobby had found for themselves showed signs of being all of their home. Bobby’s baking supplies and punny clothes. Leila’s uni books mixing with her instruments. Chelsea’s throw pillows with their little phrases stitched in all over but her all pink wardrobe safely tucked into the guest room closet. Lucas’s medical bag and higher end clothes neatly set away.

Within the first week the couple had gone from calling their friends ‘house guests’ and started calling them ‘roommates’. Lucas argued against it, stating that they each had a place, but by the end of the second week he had sat down with Leila- as much as they loved Bobby he wasn’t always the most serious- and the two of them agreed that officially letting them move in made the most sense. They all knew Chelsea, she wouldn’t leave her best friend unless she was forced to, so they made it easier.

Leila asked Bobby to bake a cake to break the news, and he agreed with the circumstance that his wife helped him in the kitchen.

Lucas came home to find the kitchen covered in flour and a very giggling pair playing a game of tag around the room. He couldn’t get away before Bobby smacked a nice, white handprint on the chest of his black dress shirt before speeding away with a cackle. Lucas had no choice but to drop his bag, take the flour from Leila, and give chase.

Chelsea finished her meeting with a client to the three of them scrubbing down the kitchen, confused expression as she slid her finger through the dusty layer of white that covered the counter. “Everything okay?”

Leila giggled, hopping up from scrubbing the floor and wrapping the blonde in a tight hug, bits of white streaked through her red locks, “Everything’s great, babes!”

After everyone showered, Lucas and Bobby presented the cake to her as Leila prepared dinner. The redhead heard the squeal of excitement for a few seconds before she felt the arms thrown around her shoulders.

Movie nights, at Bobby’s insistence, were held weekly on Saturdays. They would take turns picking the films.

Chelsea organized double dates- and solo dates. She would excitedly tell Leila specific details about location and time, but keep the event she planned a surprise. Sometimes Bobby or Leila would get anxious about the activity itself- like when Chelsea planned a parachuting date and Bobby was adamant about not setting foot in the plane- but Chelsea always made sure they knew they could leave without hurting her feelings.

Lucas practically lived like their on call nurse. When Bobby would cut himself in the kitchen, or Leila would overwork herself to the point where she was teetering on the edge of exhaustion, Lucas was there to reel them in and fix them back up.

Leila was practically the mother hen. She made sure everyone had their lunches when they’d be working through the day, even made a chore chart that Chelsea followed religiously.

Other Islanders would visit, happily basking in the domestic bliss the four of them had built together. Gary often joked about moving in, too, and Leila wasn’t sure if it was a joke when Bobby told him he’d be welcome, too, but she would’ve been more than happy to find a place big enough for all of their friends to join them again. She figured maybe group dinners would just be a bit more frequent instead, but they all loved the idea of a potluck as long as Hope wasn’t cooking for her and Noah’s dish.

The four of them made jokes, that minus the recouplings and communal bedroom it was like living in the Villa together again. And honestly? They hadn’t been happier.

Masterlist

@justtuesdays @sunshinejihyun

#litg #litg season 2 #litg bobby x mc #litg bobby #litg lucas #litg chelsea #roommates #post villa #litg Chelsea x Lucas #s2litgexchange

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gracefulsunflower · 2 years

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CONTRARY - FINN SHELBY X READER; PART 33

PUBLISHED: 05/07/2022

Part 1

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST

READER'S POV

Saoirse trotted downstairs, and came to a stop in front of the roaring fireplace, between Finn and I in our armchairs. She shifted restlessly from foot to foot. Finn Junior came up and rubbed against her legs.

"What's up?" Finn asked her tenderly, setting down his newspaper and watching as she fiddled with the hem of her dress.

"Well — I've been to sleepovers at all of my friends houses, but none of them have been to a sleepover here. Can I have one here, for my birthday next week?" Saoirse asked, swaying from side to side.

Birthday. She was turning eight. My little sister, the one who's nappies I used to change, was turning eight. Part of me refused to believe it.

"Sure." I replied unsurely, side-eyeing Finn, hoping he would catch the hesitation in my tone.

"I can't see why not." He added, which made Saoirse grin and run back upstairs.

"Finn you bastard, you should've said no!" I hissed quietly as I went and sat on the arm of his chair so I could speak softly, without fear of Saoirse hearing me.

"Why? Surely kids'll be able to come." He reasoned, placing his free hand on the small of my back, making me sigh.

"Finn, you're the brother of the most feared men in Birmingham. And I'm your wife." I said matter-of-factly, "Surely you see why people would be hesitant to let their kids come here, especially overnight."

"I know they'd be hesitant. We'd be able to get some of her friends to come here somehow." Finn replied, taking a sip of his whiskey.

"How? Rocking up at their houses and saying 'Your child is coming to Saoirse's sleepover by order of the Peaky fucking Blinders!'" I snapped, and Finn made a face that told me he agreed entirely with my stupid suggestion.

"No, Finn, we're not going to order kids to come have a sleepover! Use your common sense!" I barked then pinched his ear, making him yelp.

Serves him right for being an idiot.

"Well what about Lynn and the rest of the girls? They can put in good words for us, can't they?" He pointed out, and I suddenly felt bad for thinking of him as an idiot.

"Let's have a piss up with them and their blokes, at the Garrison or somewhere else, and everyone can see it. They'll ask about us, and they'll tell them good things. Hopefully." Finn said, and I nodded.

"Hilda can probably put in good word too, she has influence. I'll ask if I can help her with a bake sale, sell some of my stuff at her stall." I added, knowing the power her baking skills held over the women of Small Heath.

Along with having bake sales every Thursday afternoon, she also ran a book club which met every Tuesday afternoon, and went to Church every Sunday, as well as playing netball every Saturday and attending netball practice on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons. How she found the time to do all that with her job at the factory and with her rambunctious daughter, I'd never know.

•••

I put the finishing touches on the icing on top of Saoirse's cake as Finn finished organising the last lolly platter. Today was the day. My baby sister turned eight.

We woke her up with breakfast in bed, and a decorated house. We put streamers damn near everywhere, balloons everywhere, and a banner along the wall of the living room that said 'Happy Birthday Saoirse'. She loved it all, nearly too excited to open her presents.

Saoirse's big present from us was in the back yard, meaning that we had to keep her towards the front of the house so she didn't see it.

Her little presents we allowed her to open. I had gotten her netball shoes (she played in the junior games, alongside Daisy, who she had become fast friends with), new clothes and hair ribbons, and new books. Finn had also gotten her new clothes (we went shopping together so we weren't doubling up on anything), a new bracelet, a pair of (faux) pearl earrings because she was forever asking to wear mine, and some new toys. Together, along with her big gift, we got her a new silver heart locket with a picture of our Shelby-Gold-Jesus family on one side, and her mother on the other.

Other people had been dropping off their presents for her all throughout the day.

We weren't going to have a party, decided by Saoirse, only a dinner with family and friends, then a sleepover. Rose made a tradition that started with Ezzie and kept it going with the rest of us that we never entertained other people on our birthday, only having parties and sleepovers and other things if we wanted to. Our birthdays were our days, no one else's. We could do whatever we wanted, on our birthdays.

I loved that rule, because Marian had always forced me to have a party every year that I lived with her. I hated every single one of them.

I was slightly happy that Saoirse didn't want a party, because there would be a lot of people there. My family always had a lot of people at the birthday parties, and that amount would only grow with the gaggle of friends Saoirse had made.

If Saoirse was going to be like the rest of us, she would only have an eighteenth. I was yet to have mine. Ezzie had an eighteenth, but she was asleep by midnight, everyone else still partying on. Bonnie's eighteenth carried on for a week, and it was only at the end of that week long bender that we were all sober enough to realise that Bonnie was MIA. It turns out that he ended up halfway across the country with a few mates.

I snorted at the memory, making Finn look at me in confusion, momentarily stopping his walk over to the table with the lollies.

I waved for him to keep going, then placed the cake in the fridge.

The dogs started barking, making me look out of the kitchen window. Ada and Karl had just arrived in Ada's car. The first of Saoirse's guests for the sleepover. She only had Daisy left to come, but her and Hilda lived only a five minute drive up the road, it wasn't like they were going to be late.

"It's Ada," I announced, heading out of the kitchen, through the living room and mudroom, opening the front door.

"Aunt (Y/N)!" Karl said happily, racing up the path to meet me, hugging me.

I returned the hug, then he wiggled out of my grip and ran to Finn, then inside to Saoirse, who was doing a puzzle on the floor in front of the bay window.

Ada came up the walkway, a present under each arm.

"The boy's bag is in the backseat of the car, I'll grab it after Saoirse opens our presents," Ada said, making me nod.

"I'll grab it," Finn offered, passing her on the stairs and jogging down to the car.

"One present from each of us," She told me, adjusting them under her arms as we headed inside, Daisy, Duke, and Tuck following us.

I heard Finn come back inside, the door shutting behind him. He went and placed Karl's bag on the couch, then came back over to me, standing behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist, laying his cheek on top of my head. My hands came up and rested on top of his.

"Happy birthday, little miss!" Ada greeted Saoirse, and Karl hopped up, coming over to grab his present from under his mum's right arm, then turned and faced Saoirse.

"From me," He declared as she came over and grabbed the present, which was a long, rectangular shaped box.

I could hear something rattle softly when she took the present from Karl. She looked at me, and I nodded, then she gently undid the white bow, then carefully stripped the box of the blue wrapping paper. She was one of those people who hated ripping wrapping paper, because people took so long and put so much care into wrapping stuff, a trait she got from Dad. Under the wrapping paper was a cardboard box. She took the lid off to reveal a sky blue soprano ukulele with a black outline of a butterfly on the front, under the bridge and to the right.

"Oh, thank you!" She squealed, putting the box on the floor then pulling Karl into a tight hug.

The boy hugged her back, laughing. My heart melted at the pair.

"Look on the back of it," Ada advised, and Saoirse quickly stepped away from Karl and grabbed her ukulele by the neck, gently lifting it out of the box.

She flipped it so the back was facing up, and ran her finger along it. I could see some gold wording glint under the light.

"To my best friend Saoirse, from Karl, with love," She read, and looked at Karl.

"Thank you. Truly," She said softly, and you could tell she meant it.

Karl just replied with 'S'Alright'.

"Aren't they the cutest," I mused, and Ada nodded, Finn humming in agreement.

"They make me want to have another one," Ada admitted, watching as Saoirse tuned her ukulele.

"One couldn't hurt us, aye (Y/N)?" Finn asked, making Ada look at us in surprise.

I knew he was joking. We didn't feel ready for a baby yet, although I doubt we ever would. No one truly feels ready for a baby.

"You have one before you turn eighteen and I'll strangle you and my brother with the umbilical cord," Ada threatened, but there was no malice behind her words, just worry.

"I don't plan on having one anytime soon," I reassured her, and she relaxed her posture, nodding.

"Here, Sersh, come look at what Ada's got for you," I called out, and Saoirse bounded over, handing her ukulele Karl to hold.

She took the very medium sized box from Ada, and her eyebrows scrunched together.

"It's — heavy," Saoirse said, sounding surprised.

Karl bounced on his heels, waiting for her to open it.

Saoirse painstakingly unwrapped this present, and gasped. It was a light blue jewellery box, painted to look like a cloudy blue sky, a butterfly on the top of the lid. She opens it, and it immediately started chiming, playing a tinkly tune.

"Oh, it has a butterfly and it spins!" Saoirse gasped, flipping the box around to show us.

"Finn told me that he was going to get you jewellery, so I decided to get you something to put it in," Ada explained, and Karl tapped the back of it.

Saoirse tilted the box so she could see what he was tapping it for.

"To darling Saoirse. The sky is the limit. From Ada dearest," Saoirse recited the words on the back, and grinned at Ada.

"Thanks, A," Saoirse said, then started fiddling around with the key on the back as the song stopped.

"Why don't you go put your jewellery box upstairs, then we can go and look at your new present in the backyard?" Finn suggested as he stepped away from me, and Saoirse nodded, running upstairs.

"Don't run on those stairs!" I hollered after them, even though it would have fallen on deaf ears.

"Have you made dinner yet?" Ada asked as I lead her and Finn outside.

"No, starting it as soon as Saoirse sees her present," Finn replied, then turned back down the hallway, "Karl, you cover her eyes, this is going to be a great fucking surprise!"

"Stop swearing at the kids," I chastised Finn, swatting him on the arm.

He just chuckled in response as the kids came down the hallway, Karl obeying Finn's orders, his hands securely over Saoirse's eyes, the pair giggling as they walked.

Karl's jaw dropped as he saw Saoirse's present.

"She can look now," Finn told his nephew, and he quickly let his arms hang by his side, uncovering Saoirse's eyes.

Her brown eyes went wide with shock as she laid her gaze on her new, baby blue playhouse, and play equipment. The playhouse itself was two story, with a cute little picket fence front yard, with a toy kitchen and dining room down the bottom, and a bedroom up the top. The bedroom itself held a daybed with a metal frame that made it look like a couch, a privacy screen, a full body mirror, and a trunk full of dress up clothes.

The play equipment was brown, the wood unpainted, but the accessories were dark blue. On the left side of the sky loft was monkey bars, which connected up with the sky loft, so you could land on the floor of the loft. The sky fort had a bench underneath, and a patch of grass next to it. The sky loft itself was empty. A set of steep stairs was connected to the back of it, with blue railings to help climb up it. At the front of the sky loft, connected to it, was a climbing wall and a slide. Then, to the right of the sky loft was a lookout (which was accessible from the inside of the loft). The bottom of the lookout was attached to the beam that held the swings. We had two slings swings, one horse gilder swing, and one nest swing. The beam holding up the swings was metal, painted to look like wood, so I didn't have to worry about the beam collapsing.

We decided to get her play equipment because she only had 'inside ' stuff, no outside stuff. The house was big enough for her to have play dates inside but it got stale eventually.

"That's the best present a big brother and a big sister could ever give!" Saoirse screeched, coming over and hugging Finn and I quickly.

"I love it! Karl, come down the slide with me!" Saoirse demanded, grabbing the boys hand and leading him to the play equipment, making us laugh.

I heard a sniffle to my left, and looked over at Finn, who was rubbing his eyes.

"You okay, darling?" I asked, feeling concerned for my husband.

"She called me her brother," Finn mumbled, cheeks going red, and I gave him a soft smile, reaching up and brushing away a stray tear on his cheek.

"She loves you, you know," I replied softly, turning back to the kids and placing my head on his shoulder.

"We both do," I added, moving my head to look up at him, just in time to catch the ends of his lips quirk up.

•••

THIRD PERSON'S POV

The Golds (bar you and Saoirse), the Shelbys (bar Finn and Karl), The Jesuses, Johnny Doggs and his brood, Charlie Strong, Curly, and Hilda had not long ago finished dinner, then the rest of the guests went back to their houses, having spent the afternoon with Saoirse.

You sat in Finn's rocking chair, watching as Daisy, Karl, and Saoirse played with Saoirse's new toys, now dressed up with outfits from the dress up chest. They had dressed up the cat and the dogs too. You had also been roped into dressing up, putting your wedding dress on, as well as a pair of wings from Saoirse's dress up chest, borrowing a stick from the garden outside and wrapping some streamers around it. You made a damn good faerie if you did say so yourself.

Finn was currently in the office, doing something for Tommy, which annoyed you slightly. Tommy couldn't even respect the fact that it was Saoirse's birthday.

"Faerie godmother (Y/N)! Make Finn come out here and play dress up with us," Saoirse demanded, making you snort.

"Oh, my dearest goddaughter, princess Saoirse, I don't believe I'll be able to pull the noble Mr Shelby from his work," You sighed theatrically, throwing the back of your palm onto your forehead to add a dramatic effect.

The children giggled at your antics.

"Well, if you can't pull him away from work, maybe we should," Daisy suggested, fiddling with the tail on the dinosaur one piece she was wearing, making the rest of the kids cheer.

"Chivalrous knight Karl, lead us on this journey!" Saoirse commanded, and Karl hopped up from his spot on the floor, then helped the girls up, leading them to the office.

You followed them, intrigued about what was going to happen.

Karl knocked on the door, and Finn called out 'come in'. Karl swung the door open, and the trio entered the office. You came to stand in the doorway, leaning against the door jamb with your arms crossed.

"Finn, you've got to come play dress up with us." Saoirse ordered, looking at the man sat at the table.

Finn sighed, rubbing his temples. You frowned at the sight of your obviously stressed husband.

"Sersh, he's busy, come on," You said, getting ready to usher the kids from the room.

"No, no. I'll come out and play, just give me a few seconds to pack up," Finn reassured your sister, finally looking up from the papers that littered his desk.

He walked around his desk, and rubbed his knuckles against her cheek affectionately.

The children cheered and ran past you, back down the hall to the living room. Your husband came over to you, leaning down and planting a kiss on your lips.

"You sure you're okay to play dress ups? There's cupcakes in the oven, I'll remind them of those, they'll forget all about it," You told your husband, who shook his head, walking back over to his desk.

"I'll be fine," He replied, gathering all of the papers and putting them into the file they belonged in, then placing that file into the bottom drawer and locking the drawer.

He looked back over at you, taking in the sight of you in your wedding dress, hair loose and over your shoulder. You looked gorgeous. An absolute vision.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," You teased your husband, gave a boyish grin in reply.

"A picture wouldn't be able to hold a candle to the real deal," Finn said cheekily, making your cheeks flush.

"Finn! Hurry up!" Saoirse commanded from the living room, and you and your husband headed down the hallway to them.

"I'm here," Finn announced as he stepped through the doorway, and immediately got a clown costume thrown his way.

"Go put that on, then we're going to paint nails," Saoirse informed him.

"Yes boss," Finn replied with a grin, then headed back down the hallway to the bathroom.

"(Y/N), come sit. Karl's got to do your nails, then you do Daisy's, then she does Finn's, and Finn does mine. I've already done Karl's nails," Saoirse explained, and Karl showed you his orange nails.

"They look very nice," You complimented as you went and sat in front of Karl, who was already opening a yellow bottle of nail polish.

Smart boy.

Finn entered the living room, his curly hair ruffled by the clothes he had taken off and the costume he had put on. You bit back a laugh as you looked at your husband.

Saoirse explained the nail polish order to him, and he sat in front of Daisy, who gave him a set of immaculately painted hot pink nails.

As Finn blew on his nails to dry them quicker, you couldn't resist a laugh at your husband. Daisy then scolded you for not paying attention to her nails, and you hurriedly went back to painting her nails red. Once you had finished her nails, you got up to check on the cupcakes.

As soon as you walked through the doorway to the kitchen you heard the timer you set go off with a 'ding!'

You got the cupcakes out of the oven, and placed them onto a cooling rack. You placed three cupcakes onto a tea towel, then hid the bundle in the pantry, and headed back to the living room, cooling rack in your hands.

"Alright, you lot, let's head up to Saoirse's room and settle down. We can eat the cupcakes once they've cooled down." You announced, and the kids started to move upstairs.

You noticed how sluggish they seemed, but you knew they'd get second wind once they ate the cupcakes.

"I'll start popping balloons," Finn told you, and you nodded, then headed upstairs, being careful not to drop any cupcakes.

"Hey, (Y/N), can you braid our hair?" Saoirse asked as you sat the cupcakes on the foot end of her bed.

You heard Finn popping a balloon already.

"Yeah, I can," You answered, kicking a balloon out of your way.

Daisy and Duke didn't seem bothered by the balloons, to your surprise.

"Want Finn to pop these balloons or leave them?" You questioned, gathering all of the balloons on her floor near the door.

"Pop those ones," Saoirse decided, and you kicked them out into the hallway and shut the door.

Karl handed you the brush, comb, and hair ribbons. You thanked the boy, and started with Saoirse's hair first, doing twin French braids.

"Want the same ones as her?" You asked Daisy, and she shrugged.

You decided to go the same as Saoirse's. Once she was done, you told the kids they could have their cupcakes. They all got three each. They ate their cupcakes in silence as they struggled to stay sitting upright. You chuckled at the trio. Once they were done, you tucked them into Saoirse's bed, then turned on her nightlight, and left the room, cooling rack in hand.

You shuffled along the hall, kicking all of the balloons in the upstairs hall down the stairs, where your husband was having a spot of fun stabbing them to pop them. You grabbed all of the streamers that were in the upstairs hallway, and ambled downstairs and into the kitchen, washing everything up, then sitting them on the drying rack. By the time you were done, Finn had started pulling the streamers down. You pulled down the ones in the kitchen and the downstairs hallway, then placed them on your armchair, Finn doing the same. Once you were done the streamers, you pulled down the banner, carefully folding it up.

Finn felt slightly disappointed that there were no more cupcakes left, but no matter. Saoirse had a good day and that was all that mattered.

"We've three cupcakes to share," You informed your husband, making him grin as you lead him into the kitchen and into the pantry.

You grabbed the tea towel and unfolded it, giving your husband a cupcake and devouring your own. Finn wasted no time eating his. When you reached for the last one, you heard the kitchen door swung open, making you freeze.

"I'm not sharing a cupcake with a child half my size," Your husband whispered as you stood up, handing him the tea towel and cupcake.

"Shut up," You hissed, but he words held no malice.

You exited the pantry, and found Daisy there, looking very tired.

"Thirsty," She mumbled, and you got her a bottle of milk from the fridge, telling her to take it up to Saoirse's room so none of them had to come back downstairs.

She did what you asked, and you headed back into the pantry, where Finn was in the process of splitting the cupcake in half.

"You can have the big half if you give me a kiss," Finn offered with a smirked.

You rolled your eyes, smiling softly, and placed a chaste kiss on your husband's lips.

"I would have kissed you anyway," You told your husband, who grinned.

"I would have given you the big half anyway," He replied, making you smile at him.

"To a successful sleepover!" You declared quietly, holding your cupcake half in the air.

Finn did the same, and you started giggling again.

As you sat in the pantry in your wedding dress, your husband in a clown outfit, the pair of you giggling into the night you decided that life, as this very moment, was good.

§§§

Not proofread because I am tired Oof

Also you guys aren't ready for chapter 43; I've got the biggest surprise AHHH

Also sometimes the published date can be earlier than the date I published it here because I use the date that I published the chapter on Wattpad :))

Love y'all ❤️

- Sunflower x

TAGLIST

@meadownicolee

@toothlessmcleod

@im-your-possession

@bethabear12

@paisley-37

@shelundeadxxxx

@bluehairdie

@krillfromsky

@cucumberfingefsandwiches

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Part 34

#finn shelby #finn shelby x reader #finn shelby x y/n #finn shelby x you #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders #x reader #arthur shelby #finn shelby fanfic #tommy shelby

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40sandfabulousaf · 7 days

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大家好! I've had naengmyeon (Korean cold noodles) before, but not dong bei leng mian (cold noodles from Northeastern China). On a very hot afternoon this week, I finally tried it. Both taste similar - tart from vinegar - except the Chinese version was slightly sweet and had more veggies. Mine came with cucumber and ginger strips, diced tomato, pickled cabbage, hardboiled egg and the bounciest noodles ever. I wouldn't call them QQ, they were doinkdoink! Between this and tomato egg noodles, I prefer the latter, but on a hot day, this was pleasant.

It was my first time catching up with LL at the swimming club. She enjoyed our lunch of laksa, oyster egg and seafood assam pedas (a Muslim seafood stew believed to have originated from Indonesia). Besides sharing the 3 dishes, we ended our meal with lava cake and vanilla ice cream. LL liked the relaxed ambience of the swimming club and the lack of crowds because going anywhere on weekends, including tourist favourite, Orchard Road, is a nightmare if you don't enjoy squeezing with throngs of people. For a change, I made a video of the premises and food because there's a restriction of 10 photos per post. So... enjoy!

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Besides collecting the 3 tubs of Legend Age moisturisers I'd ordered from LL, I also tried a new product - their eye cream. After dotting eyes with cream, the top of the tube doubles up as a massager. Like their moisturiser, this is quickly absorbed into the skin, leaving it supple, smooth and velvety. There's no need to use a lot of it, which saves money, a godsend during these inflationary times. It's very relaxing to have an eye massage at the end of a long work day! I passed a tube to Mummy and she was equally impressed after trying it.

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Meanwhile, over 34,000 Palestinians have been killed by Israeli attacks in Gaza. Famine is still setting in, especially in the north. Israel claims to have let in more aid trucks and there were reports of 3 bakeries resuming operations, but bread alone won't eradicate malnutrition that now plagues many adults and children alike. Nourishing foods like meat and vegetables, if they can be found, are prohibitively expensive to most. New mothers aren't producing enough milk to feed their infants; even if these babies survive, who knows what damage is done to their health and internal organs, and how this will affect their futures.

A child born into a family is usually a joyous affair but there's no joy for Palestinians as Israel continues to rain attacks on Gaza. What little joy there is, is short-lived. Many of these little ones are either killed or die from hunger. The immense pain and suffering continues until a ceasefire finally happens, if it happens at all. It looks unlikely as long as certain countries keep arming Israel, enabling it to act with impunity and total disrespect for the rest of the world. I can only pray these evil parties will be punished and punished severely for their wickedness. 下次见!

#Youtube

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moodswingsabz · 8 months

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It’s been an eventful few days for Aberdeen and the fan base, punctuated by a pair of 2-2 draws that could hardly be any further apart in how they’re being viewed. Firstly came the long awaited first European night of a season in which at least eight are guaranteed, away to BK Hacken in Gothenburg, which offered the chance for something of a pilgrimage for Dons fans and a first look at Aberdeen on the European stage this year. Even the most optimistic of Aberdeen fans didn’t seem to be taking the challenge of Hacken and Europa league qualification lightly and as the match, which was played at a rip-roaring pace swayed in the favour of the home side, who took a 2-0 lead, the challenge looked even greater. Then came that final 20 minutes. The travelling support and RedTV or dodgy stick faithful were given their first look in red of James McGarry and Jamie McGrath, who both impressed in their respective Dons debuts. As Aberdeen piled the pressure on the hosts, Miovski did what Miovski does and finished brilliantly with his left foot to haul the Dons back into the tie and then Nicky Devlin, finally unleashed in his favoured position of right wing back, did what none of us expected Nicky Devlin to do and latched onto a Miovski ball to dink over an onrushing keeper. The game was level, mayhem ensued in Gothenburg and living rooms and pubs back in the North East and with some top level shithousery from half the Aberdeen team as the icing on the cake, the tie was turned around with it now coming back to Pittodrie finely poised and with a dose of confidence injected firmly into it.

The next couple of days were hugely positive, with social media buzzing over the fight back from the Aberdeen team, plaudits given to Barry Robson for finally utilising his bench, the home leg at Pittodrie swiftly becoming a sell out and the Aberdeen support largely glued to their phones, watching and rewatching the clip of aforementioned shithousery in the wake of Devlin’s equaliser. Excitement levels were building for this coming Thursday but there was unfortunately a trip to perhaps one of the least exciting places possible, Paisley, to come before the Hacken home leg.

Again, not many predicted an easy afternoon for Aberdeen on Sunday, with the home team in good form with two wins in the league and impressive performances noted as they continue to build under Stephen Robinson. It was hoped that with a good performance that the dandies could overcome the spirited home side and build on the excellent momentum from midweek. This was not what followed.

After grabbing an undeserved lead through a Jonny Hayes cross, it seemed that if Aberdeen could be revitalised at half time and replicate the level set in the second half performance in Gothenburg, they might just get out of Paisley with three points. Whilst the second half mirrored the one against Hacken in terms of controversy, the quality was severely lacking and the substitutions this time failed to make the same impact, instead looking like what they were, players which had very recently been added to the squad. In the 99th minute, Aberdeen were presented with the opportunity to rescue, or perhaps, rob a point from the game when a second hand ball incident, this time committed by the hosts, led to a penalty. Even in the closing moments, as Miovski fired home from the spot, the drama wasn’t over as the ominous letters of VAR flashed up on the screen and we were presented with the Scottish football equivalent of the white and gold or blue and black dress conundrum from a few years ago, as the penalty was checked for a double touch. The goal, rightly in my opinion, stood and Aberdeen escaped with a point that they possibly didn’t deserve and which at times looked highly unlikely but which they will very much take.

After a series of tricky matches on the road, we now have two huge games to look forward to at home. Pittodrie has always been absolutely brilliant on big European nights and given how the atmosphere has been ramping up in recent times, I expect Thursday night to be something truly special. The mood around the game seems to one of optimism and enthusiasm and we can only hope this carries on into the game itself, in both the crowd and with the players on the pitch. Come Friday morning, we’ll know where our European futures lie for this season and whichever league we find ourselves anxiously awaiting the draw for, I hope that we’re left feeling proud, of the performance on the pitch and of Pittodrie on what is set to be our biggest game in many years!

#aberdeen #scotland #aberdeenfc #aberdeenfootballclub #afc #scottish football #spfl #europa #europa league

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driftwork · 2 years

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the joy of the cat (third draft) part 6 of the serial...

and so lets go back to our beginning, not quite the beginning but near enough, so here we have an engineer, a systems analyst called Jean Grenier, me, simply me. (Obviously that isn't my real name, all the names of living people are fictional, only the dead have their real names) Tall thin, unmuscled, weak. poor eyesight, good hearing, flat feet, stiff... doesn't exercise, never runs, reads a lot, likes cinema, likes looking at art. Speaks and reads english, french, german, dislikes most mass culture, has weak family ties, hates opera. Not very friendly, anti-social, except I must confess to her, neither of us understand this. I am, he is, in short, the complete opposite to the man who was the father of the child at the beginning of this in a state of suspended animation in her womb…

On the roof of the building, after seeing Feramontov she knew she had to stop. I think she had told her about to ex-boyfriend and her boss at K that they had to break up in the morning. It was Sunday afternoon and she came back home and met me (Jean) in the lift, i smell of coffee. I've just been to the roasters and bought back some loose tea and coffee beans, I told her. My warehouse apartment was next door to hers, I had the front front front half of this floor, with my entrance to the right of the corridor, facing the street, three or four rooms, there is a double set of fire doors between our apartments, on the back wall of my kitchen and living room, a narrow corridor between the fire doors. Her apartment was behind the fire doors, on the inside of the building facing the lightwell, it has two floors, the first floor containing a large open space, a kitchen and library/office at one end, a second floor containing the three bedrooms, an unused open space that spreads across the front of the building above my apartment, a bathroom and stairs at the top of which, a door opening out onto the walled roof garden. I'll open the fire doors whilst you make the coffee, she said. She likes my coffee machine.

We drank water, espresso and flat white coffee, and ate some pastries that I had brought back, sitting outside, on the bench on the platform at the top of the fire escape that ran in a zigzag pattern down to ground level in the lightwell. The door was open and Henry the cat was coming up the fire escape stairs from the garden below in the lightwell. I've broken up with Franz, she told me. Is that a good thing? I asked her. Yes, I think so, though I feel miserable. I never liked the guy much, I said to her. I was probably the only man she knew who said such things to her. I know, I did though, he made me feel happy and i felt safe, she said. Why did it end then? I asked her. I was wrong. His mother, sister and niece came over and he prefers his mother and family to me. Not separated from his parents which is never a good thing. I said. Probably needs years of psychotherapy. She looked bleakly at me, it's complicated she said hesitantly, Nice coffee this. She was looking at me. <…> It's always is complicated still its an absolute given that the man you are going out with should prefer you to his mother... And vice versa? Looking at me with a peculiar expression. Would you say that I should prefer you to my father or brother? Yes, otherwise why would we be sitting here drinking coffee and eating cakes. I should have said more because it didn't translate as well as it might have. Later after she went home. sorry, I went home. I was distracted and went to the local repertory cinema to watch a 1960s Italian movie, I can’t remember the title, it’s the one with the flying crucifix being helicoptered across Rome.

On Monday morning, the door bell rang and I opened the door and found her standing there. She looked unusually uncertain. I realized that she wanted something from me and wasn't sure if she should ask. Over the years since then I have often thought how different things might have been if I'd said “no” at this point. Though actually things were already way past the point when I could have said no to her. Mostly I recognize that I made the right choices, except of course for that occasion years later when I was attacked and left to die in the ha-ha on the estate, and she helped me up, leaving bodies behind her. I suppose the other thing that happened was that my relationships with people at K and H subtly changed. I didn’t notice it happening but i moved from software to security. Hello, I said, can I help? I wanted to wince at my all too middle english language pronunciation, she, in her Japanese or Korean way didn't notice, or didn't care. I think that because everything we said to one another in those days was a translation between our respective languages, between our differences, is why we liked one another. I have a favour to ask and was hoping you could... She began to ask. I gestured at her, to come in. come in. Would you like some tea? I have just made some, interrupting her. I offered, reaching for an extra cup. I have a favour to ask. I am going away and was hoping you could look after Henry the cat for me. She sipped some tea and looked at me over the rim of her cup. How long will you be away? I have to go to Africa, for work. OK you'll...? (Did she know the answer to her request already? Probably) I will need some instructions as I have only fed the cat occasionally. I'll leave some instructions, the vet etc details. When do you leave? She ignored me and said, Since I will be away we should leave the fire doors open, you know the pin numbers, here are some keys in case. Ok, roof Ok? fire escape? Yes, please look after them. Use the space, no sub-rentals! Erro of course I'll look after your cat, because it's your cat, I said (thinking what am I saying to her) I wouldn't dream of subletting, besides Henry would eat them, are you pretending he is a domesticated cat? and well I'm pretty anti-social. Well no, but... She stopped and I realized that we probably knew more about one another than she and I thought or perhaps that she knew me better than she had imagined What is it? I asked. Nothing I was just a little surprised. How long will you be away? Probably a month, perhaps a little longer, I suppose. What about the utilities? Water, council tax, electricity, network... Do I need to switch them to my accounts to pay them? Can you afford to do that? I think so. Use the money in the account first. She picked the keys off the table, unlocked and opened the fire door. I didn't know you could do that. I changed the locks whilst you were away last year. This is the master key, she smiled, now with its master. Handing me the key. She propped the doors open. She turned on the led lights in the service corridor that ran between the apartments to the fire escape, some were broken. She waved me into her loft. All the details are in the files here. She said opening the filing cabinet drawer. You’ll have to open my mail and email. When do you leave? On Wednesday. The cat came and sat next to me on the sofa. It looked at me and I wondered again how much English it understood. Passwords? Passwords and accounts are on the roladex... I didn't go to work, we spent the morning talking about my looking after Henry, the flat and some other things that shouldn't be documented. In the end we spent the days before she left, chatting, collecting information, shopping and getting to know one another. At some point during the three days, perhaps whilst we were talking as I watched her pack, I thought I'll miss her. But neither of us said anything that might suggest such things. It was only later that I realized how much I was pretending we were friends.

The night before she left I said to her: This is a dead drop address for you. You can use any of these peer to peer signalling systems and message me using this address. It's secure, encrypted and untraceable. Use this identity and address as yours, my address is... If you need to speak to me, use that address. I smiled at her. How secure, how untraceable? She asks looking at the two cards. Better than anything that K or Hat has, it's non-geographical and your end will always be untraceable. I will not know where you are unless you tell me. Any messages to this address can only be decrypted here. In the equipment in my office. As she looked at the cards for a fleeting moment she regretted leaving before she could work out if she liked him or not. She wondered if he liked her. <do we like him?> <probably. He doesn't know what that means to us. > If she wasn't going away, I thought, I would have a problem this strange schizophrenic woman... As I said to her later in an exchange of messages, whilst she was sitting on the dock looking out over the Indian Ocean; normal people would have had sex and slept together. Why didn't we? Don't answer that. She typed. But neither of the two bodies and the three personalities looking at the cards and regretting her leaving were normal. And that was it. The doors between the loft apartments were wedged open with plastic wedges that didn't move for years. Secrets and trust entered their lives at that point. Or perhaps I should say they entered his life because as you may not have realized until this moment he was someone whose entire working life was based on the precept "people always lie"... (She didn't know this about him until much later in their relationship, when he told her he loved her and he asked her whether, if she ever needed to run again, could he go with her.) But you are not really interested in this clash of ideologies and desire or even the assemblage they are, at that moment unconsciously constructing. In the morning I helped carry her luggage to the taxi waiting in front of the building, she is about to get in the taxi, before she turns and puts her arms around me. Thanks for being so nice. She must feel my hands and arms around her body and tell her I'm sorry she is going, she already knows this and turns and leaves. Photos were taken of us standing there, placed on the desk in front of her boss at K, with knowing looks.

I went back to work after she left in the morning, I think it was Wednesday, it may have been Thursday. They ask where I had been. I said that I had a nice few days with an Italian woman who flew back to New York. There was a progress meeting about the Hat integration, during which i drank a double espresso and ate some fruit jellies, i didn’t offer any to the IS director because he was being idiotic. I told him that we could not and would not do real-time billing for his virtual role playing game. It was pretty clear he didn’t understand what real-time means. I offered fruit jellies to Nomiko and Nancy her PA. They were giving me their usual peculiar looks. Afterwards on the way to Erro's desk I followed Nomiko and Nancy to the security floor. They were both looking at me with inquisitorial stare. I have to collect something from Erro's desk, I said waving her desk keys at them. There is an envelope of passwords and bank details. Come and see me afterwards, Nomiko said [...]

I sat at her desk in the corner of the floor, and unlocked the desk drawer. Ley was standing beside the adjacent desk talking to someone. I was opening the draw and put the gun on desk, she stepped towards me. Do you want this ? I asked her. Gesturing at Erro's gun on the desk. At the bottom of the draw beneath the file I was looking for, a pile of reports, she had photographs of me. She had photographs of me, I said, even I could hear the surprise in my voice, looking up at Ley who had taken the gun. What are you doing Jean? I am looking after her cat and need to take her passwords and other details, so I can pay any bills. I remember looking up at her, her slightly startled expression. I thought you knew we live next door to one another. I do, i met you there. I looked through the other files, don't think there is anything else i'll need. I think this is all work stuff[...]

They were waiting in Nomiko's office. She was already looking at some photographs on her desk when I knocked on the door. What do you want? She asked me. Covering the photographs with an envelope. Hello, sorry can I have a word? Yes, sit down, Nancy you should stay. i thought you’d like to know Erro’s gone. Where to, did she say? No, any destinations she has mentioned, well, i think its unlikely she’s gone there. How do you know this? I’m looking after her cat and her loft apartment. She said I should tell you as soon as I was back in the office. Do you know what she does for K? No, I said, we’ve talked about it, she says she is a surveillance expert, but neither of us really understands what the other does. Tell them what you do with her. Ley said from behind me. I looked round at her , eh? She was still holding the gun, and looked round again, Us? mostly we drink tea and coffee, go to the cinema, occasionally shopping and stuff and talk and talk. We are both pretty anti-social so we are pretty surprised that we are. Nomiko has picked up the photographs and is looking at me. Interesting, thanks. We’ll put her things in storage. She handed the photograph of her holding me before she boarded the taxi. What did she say to you? Thanks for being so nice, I said you know that guy you were going out with, he’s an idiot. The same as last time. She said. Come back tomorrow after we've seen if there is anything more you should take. Thank you. She has handing the photographs to Nancy. I went back to my desk to write up my meeting notes. When I looked back at them after calling the lift, I could see they were still looking at me. My relationship with K and Hat changed at that moment, I stopped being one of the technical people necessary to keep the organization going, and instead became one of the reasons it existed. I moved departments without without even noticing, taking my people with me.

A few weeks later the pandemic arrived in full force and they had to restrict going into the office. Whilst I was working on the final requirements document for Hat, i received a message from her - "arrived" a picture of the sea, large waves running into the beach. "any problems?" I sent back a picture of Henry curled up asleep on my sofa... Everything's fine. Wish I was there with Henry. "It's nicer here than I ever imagined... feel like Lawrence Durrell." Spacetime slipped away, it ages in a hurry. I experimented with different routes to the office, short and direct, south and north being more meandering. I think I always entered the building through the front door, but its impossible to remember for sure. In June the summer heatwave began, the streets were empty. I started watering the plants on the rooftop garden. A patch of green, visible from the helicopters that flew over everyday. I left the rooftop door open for Henry and the fire escape down into the light well. I painted the fire escape corridor white, changed the lighting, and added some radiators.

After a month I began to receive occasional visits from the people looking for her, checking that she was still away. The caller asks to speak to her. I tell him she is away. Our meeting is innocuous, he leaves an obscure message which only understandably by her. She refuses it. A secret network reaching out to find her across the diffuse mesh network of the criminal world. I repeat that she has left the country by now we are two or three metres in the apartment from the door. He looks around the room. A few more meaningless sentences and he leaves... Every month someone would arrive to check... I have to decide whether to save someone. Her text said. Does it put you at risk ? I responded. No, I don't think so,. She responded. If it doesn't make things more dangerous for you, then save them and see what happens. I paused and then said. Come back soon. We communicated with short, each other in highly coded short phrases what we were doing. Over the year we began to understand how the other thought and felt. I have no idea when she told me about Fern, was it before or after she was born? I am pretty sure it was after I couriered some iron tablets, calcium and multivitamin supplements and some technical kit. The year passed slowly...

#everyday practices #london story #fiction #erro

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incorrectbatfam · 3 years

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Stepmom!Selina?

She sees what she's getting into from a mile away, but she welcomes it because Bruce's kids are a part of him, and she loves all of Bruce.

The kids all see it coming too, and while some (Damian) take longer to warm up to her, she's welcomed into the fold with open arms.

Selina's got a heart as big as her partner and while she's not always perfect, you can see how much she cares.

As a former foster child herself, Selina understands Duke's unique experiences and traumas from the foster care system, so whenever he needs to talk, she's the first one he goes to. Sometimes he doesn't want to (or need to) talk, so they'll watch boxing matches or she'll teach him little bits of Mandarin. If the kitchen isn't busy, they'll try their hand at new TikTok recipes, and film themselves either succeeding or debunking the original poster.

Being raised in isolation to be a human weapon meant Cass missed out on a lot of the things daughters typically learn as children/teens. The evening of Cass's first gala, she didn't know the first thing about doing her own hair and makeup. She's braved assassin armies, but her self-made disaster of bobby pins and eyeshadow nearly drives her to tears. Selina swoops in, wipes Cass's face with gentle reassurances, and walks her through step-by-step.

Selina considers it a privilege to have watched Dick grow from the spunky little Robin to the man he is today. Even though he's taller than her, she still ruffled his hair when he does a good job. She also keeps the first ever birthday card he gave her, which includes a pop-up bat signal and scented stickers, and remembers all of his favorite radio stations. Also, when Bruce does something, Dick goes tattling to Selina.

For a while, Carrie mooched off of her siblings' Netflix profiles, but everyone got tired of her messing up their algorithm and she was forced to make her own. She soon realized how much freedom she had because no one could see what she was watching. Selina caught on to the power trip and started researching and watching snippets whenever a new show comes out. That's how she stopped a bunch of preteen girls from watching Squid Game.

Tim often gets overlooked as not just the middle child, but the child who appears put-together and regularly takes on adult responsibilities. Selina, however, remembers that he's still a teenager. She regularly checks in and gradually teaches him that it's okay to let go and act his age. Selina encourages him to call his Young Justice friends outside of missions and take small acts of rebellion against Bruce. When Tim and his boyfriend snuck out to a famous lover's lookout, Selina gave them the car keys and covered for them.

She noticed that Jason really enjoys hanging out with Harley Quinn, bonding over not just Joker trauma but other shared interests like music taste. After Harley turns to the antihero side, Selina discusses with Bruce and they start inviting Aunt Harley and Aunt Ivy to dinner. The first time they do that, Harley is so excited that she baked a three-layer cake just for Jason. Literally, in strawberry frosting, it said, "THIS CAKE IS FOR JASON ONLY." Finding someone that Jason can relate to remains one of Selina's proudest accomplishments.

She's trying her best, but she makes mistakes too. For instance, although Wayne Manor has plenty of kitchen space, Selina does her cooking at Harley and Ivy's because Ivy can offer her fresh plant-based ingredients that suited Damian's needs. When Alfred's not available, she sends Damian to school with healthy, flavorful vegan lunches shaped into Cheese Viking characters. One time, she was tasked with bringing brownies to a PTA meeting. Incidentally, Harley was simultaneously baking a... different kind of brownie for a block party (you can see where this is heading). When an angry superintendent demanded to know who was responsible, Selina wisely kept her mouth shut and thankfully, so did Damian.

Cullen loves concerts, but he's a huge introvert who gets anxiety when he's left alone in a crowd. Selina becomes his concert buddy, and she'll go as all-out as he does. Sometimes that's showing up to a garage band dressed-down in hoodies and sunglasses. Other times it's painting their faces and looking like they just came out of a Hot Topic blowout sale. She even listens to the discography beforehand so she can blend in. Selina learns a lot about Cullen through this, because nothing says more about a person than the music they listen to.

Harper, though looking rough around the edges, turns into a giddy little kid at interactive science museums. During one of these trips, Harper got distracted by the giant Newton's Cradle so she didn't notice a fourth grade field trip sweeping up Selina. When they reunited at the gift shop, a chaperone had given Selina a school t-shirt and she was put in charge of grading ten kids' assignments. Harper laughed so hard that she spewed lemonade on the museum owner. Neither of them will let the other live that day down.

Selina and Barbara openly talk about guy stuff, and Selina is more than happy to offer advice in times of need. They're both pretty liberal talking about that stuff, and one time they did a tier ranking of all the Gotham Rogues based on how effective their gimmick is (Joker was the only S-tier). They then proceeded to get into a debate on whether or not Man-Bat and Killer Croc should qualify for the list, which led to them staring each other down at dinner while the other family members sat around them confused.

Steph's school offered a Mother's Day breakfast. Although Crystal Brown was doing her best and wanted to make it, she was scheduled a double-shift that the breakfast fell right in the middle of. Selina reached out to Crystal and with permission, went in her place. Afraid that Steph would publicly reject her, Selina sat in the parking lot for ten minutes as Bruce amped her up over the phone. Steph, thinking that no one would no up, was ecstatic and said that she couldn't have thought of anyone better. They enjoyed stacking up waffles and making the girls who bully Steph envious.

Long before she and Bruce got married, Selina made it clear that she would not be relegated to the gender-typical role of a homemaker, and Bruce happily concurred because it's 2021. They knew that to give Alfred a break, they'd have to take on some chores themselves. Instead of dividing up a boring old chore chart, they find ways to make cleaning fun and collaborative. They'll dance around the halls in mop slippers, play "guess the stain", and race their roombas. The kids see this and start modeling the behavior in their own ways—Dick swings from high places to dust them, Damian trains his pets to pick up garbage, and Cass and Duke compete to see who can clean the most bathtubs.

Some parts of the Manor are due for redecorating, so Selina and Alfred make a day trip out of interior design sketches, flipping through furniture catalogues, and looking at paint swatches. It sounds boring at first, but the menial tasks meant they had plenty of time for conversation, and she finally understood why everyone respects him. They also made room in the afternoon for a stroll through the park and afternoon tea, where he told her and her only the secret to a perfect scone.

The other Justice League partners welcome her into the group too. Whenever Selina's in Metropolis, she joins Lois and Ma and Pa for Sunday brunch where they share what their kids have been up to. Iris shows her life hacks to cooking large batches of food in a short time. Selina and Dinah discover an online store dedicated to selling vigilante gear and go on a Cyber Monday spree for their whole families. Steve Trevor, Diana's partner, teaches Selina how to fly with the invisible jet so she can surprise Bruce with the batplane.

After overcoming their initial conflicts, Selina and Talia hold a high amount of respect for each other. Talia sees Selina as not just a capable combatant, but a worthy partner to her former beloved and stepmother to her son. Selina, after spending all that time with the kids, understands the motherly love that Talia holds for Damian and makes it abundantly clear that she would never try to replace Talia in the boy's life. Regardless, looking after all those kids is hard, so they are very much open to the idea of co-parenting.

(Selina doesn't know it, but all this makes Bruce fall in love with her all over again.)

#ask #anonymous #selina kyle #catwoman #gotham city sirens #gotham rogues #batfamily #batfam #batkids #batsibings #batclan #batman family #dc comics #headcanon #tw food mention #tw mental health mention #tw drug mention

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scintillasofbeomgyu · 3 years

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➷ binibini | c.yj

coming home after a long time away

pairing: choi yeonjun x reader. genre: fluff. wc: ±1k. warnings: mentions of thunder. requested: yes. an: this sucks so much and i feel like i completely missed the plot, but oh well ㅜㅜ also, happy belated birthday yj~

the little weathered wooden fence creaks with age as yeonjun steps into the driveway. the howling wind makes it rattle against it’s hinges and it’s almost taken away by a particularly violent gust, but yeonjun is in too much of a hurry to pay it any mind. rain drums against the roofs, patters against windows, clinks off puddles and soaks into his clothes as he fumbles with the house key.

when he finally makes his way inside your quaint living space, it is dark and quiet. he drops his bags at the door and peels off his drenched coat, setting it on the hook, leaving water pooling on the floor. you’d probably give him an earful for this later. he gives the scuffed-up pine door an extra shove and the lock clicks into place, muffling the sound of the pouring rain outside.

treading across the ice cold floor in his socks, he passes the kitchen silently and squints through the darkness as he wonders where you are. he’d been away for a little over a month — travelling from location to location for shoots, doing interviews and attending events at lavish, five-star hotels and infamous nightclubs — and he did love his job, he was chasing his dream after all. but at the end of the day, when all the bright flashing lights had dimmed down, he always found himself longing for the quiet neighbourhood, your quaint house on the outskirts that desperately needed renovating, the smell of lavender that always seemed to linger in the air and the feel of you in his arms as you napped on the sofa in the livingroom on late sunday afternoons, when the warm golden light kissed your skin in a way that was his envy.

the thought makes his heart ache with renewed urgency, but his journey down the hall is one taken with care. piles of old books, rolled up parchment, wooden planks, crusty palettes, baskets of wool and other remnants of your varied hobbies — his peculiar little flower you were — line the path to the living room like an obstacle course, making a few feet seem like ten.

he arrives in the doorway after stumbling over a crate of puzzles, and after making rather unexpected acquaintence with a set of beady-eyed string puppets he’d never seen before, he reaches for the light switch. after a few unsuccessful attempts, he fishes his phone from his pocket and turns on the flashlight.

confetti and rose petals are scattered across the floor, encompassing the table in the centre of the room (which is really just a glass panel atop this huge antique chest you decided you just had to have) where heaps of his favourite snacks and a massive cake he presumed you had home-made, frighteningly, were situated. his lips curl at the sight of the messy pipe-work that was supposed be happy birthday yeonjun! in magenta icing, and he wonders if even that would edible.

as he comes closer to the lumpy double sofa ahead of the table, he almost weeps at the sight before him. you limbs are splayed across the furniture in the most undignified manner, the band of the kiddies party hat you’re wearing is squeezing your face together, and his hoodie rides up your hips as you snore softly. he renders your magnificance unparalleled, you who his heart yearns for you even when you’re right in front of him.

leaning over, he carefully removes the hat, trying his utmost not to disturb you, but you stir and his lip juts in a slight pout. with a yawn, you stretch upward before your eyes slowly flutter open.

“yeonjun?” he hums in response, setting the hat behind him before pressing a kiss to your forehead. despite being half asleep, you smile, lifting your arms around his neck. “you’re home. and you’re wet.”

he hovers over you and chuckles as you run your fingers through his hair — and then he pauses. time feels as if it has stopped completely as he observes you, every single feature, as if he is seeing it for the very first time. the weight of his eyes is heavy when you find them and you shift, heat rushing to your cheeks.

“sorry i’m late baby, the roads are horrific,” he says between the kisses he leaves on your forehead, the tip of your nose, your cheeks, your chin and the corner of your lips.

you huff at his teasing, giving his chest a shove “i would have forgiven you if you didn’t do that.”

“hmm? i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he jokes with eyebrows feigning confusion. you shoot him a glare and he smirks, “you want a kiss?”

“well now i don’t”

light flashes into the room and you jump into his arms as the thunder roars. your eyes are squeezed shut in fear as yeonjun quickly lifts you into his lap, and he closes his hands over your ears before beginning to rock you slowly back and forth.

“shh, it’s okay my love. i’m here”

another clap of thunder comes and you flinch, gripping onto his shirt. he spots your earphones on the cabinet next to the sofa and makes a stretch for it before connecting it to his phone. he puts the buds in your ears, and his in his, then turns on the music.

he sets you on the floor and you stare at him in confusion. taking your hand in his and fixing an arm around your waist, he brings your closer.

“it’s a song i chanced upon in this souvenir shop that reminded me of you. i thought you might like it.”

you rest your head on his shoulder with a smile as yeonjun sways with you to the music in the darkness.

“i’ve missed you.”

“me too, angel.”

Oh, darling, dance with me now

Under the rain, under the dark gray clouds

If this my last day on Earth, then love me now

Baby, I'll do everything to make you smile

I know you love me like, I love you now

taglist: @oifelixcmerebrou @00-baejin-05 @iminchaosnow @luvrjn (send an ask to be added!)

#txt imagines #txt scenarios #moacabin #kpc.creators #hybenet #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun scenarios #txt fluff #yeonjun fluff #txt x reader

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sandsorghum · 2 years

Text

2021 X'MAS X'CHANGE EVENT - WEEK 3

About the Event

Christmas is a time all about Giving & Receiving, so I figured, What better way to celebrate the season than to write about the Love Languages of some of our favourite Jujutsu Kaisen guys?

What's their default way of demonstrating love, and how do they want it reciprocated? In this series published over the next few Tuesdays, I'll be posting analyses + headcanons/mini drabbles of these four characters:

Week One - Gojo Satoru Week Two - Geto Suguru Week Three - Nanami Kento Week Four - Choso Kamo

And now for the man who turns my irises heartshaped

N A N A M I K E N T O

Both Giving and Receiving: Quality Time

What else would you expect from the sorcerer with an obsession about Overtime? Especially when you’ve become the reason he’s obsessed.

Nanami gets even stricter about knocking off the clock promptly, and has even less patience for Gojo's frivolous antics. Ironically, he's surprisingly lax if that time is spent with you; think lingering in bed for a few extra minutes in the morning, even if that means risking being late for work, or having to skip breakfast in order to be punctual.

Initially, he makes it a habit to see you at least once a week, no matter how busy he gets. Nothing agitates him more than having his plans to spend a whole Saturday or Sunday with you get interrupted, even if it's only by a phone call (if he sees the caller ID is Gojo he won't even bother picking up until the third time he rings, and if it's not an emergency the conversation rarely lasts longer than 10 seconds).

When you two become stable you'd think he'd be okay going a little while without contact, but nope, if anything his desire to meet up only doubles - and if he can't visit you in person, then expects lots of FaceTime (he's not much of a texter, but likes to hear your voice so you can ramble on about anything). He really detests long-distance missions now, and in his case the "Absence makes the heart grow fonder" epithet is 101% true.

For him, there's something sacred about your time together, and Kento favours activities where he has an "excuse" to extend the duration you're together; it starts with something simple like wanting to test out a complicated cake recipe that takes a few hours to make, (you're keeping an eye on the oven but he's happy just watching you).

Or think half-day craft workshops, wine tasting events or taking long drives to scenic destinations where there isn't anything to distract him from just being in your presence.

Nanami would cherish and closely guard the comfortable stages of your relationship. He's more than happy to simply spend an afternoon reading on the couch, with you nestled in his arms while you binge watch a series or pretend to listen to a podcast. Heck, he'd be delighted even if you just fell asleep against him, with nothing more than shared silence, the occasional flick of a page and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat surrounding you.

And because I am absolute S I M P for this man, I've written an entire drabble of how that Quality Time looks in a domestic setting below:

Nanami counts down the hours till he reunites with you, the moment he steps past the threshold, every minute melts together, slow and syrupy with the scent and feel of you. You’ve gotten good at giving barely apologetic “welcome back” pecks, because if you linger in his embrace longer than ten seconds, dinner will burn on the stove. He has a way of forcing you to focus on the fire in his eyes instead, and the gentle, roiling boil in your belly.

But he lets you get on with the meal, he understands sating this one type of hunger serves as an appetizer for another. He knows it won’t be long before you’re whet and wet… (I make no apologies)

You consider yourself quite a competent cook, and you tend to be pretty proud of and pleased by what you plate up, until of course, Nanami emerges, merely towel-clad from his shower; steaming, smelling and making your mouth water more than anything you’ve spent the past two hours preparing.

Who - I mean what’s the main course again?

This time, you want to avoid the embarrassment of him having to ask twice as you’re staring at his lips, the way they twitch up, amused and perplexed that he has to prompt you more than once for such a simple question. (Back then he definitely noticed your distraction, and thought it was adorable but he’ll never tell you that or how it made another part of him twitch)

You do a quick Google to remind yourself what the menu you’ve been fussing over for the past couple of hours is, before Nanami pulls up a chair - disappointingly, decently dressed.

You fell in love with a foodie, and the way he eats is so appreciative, it’s one of the first things (of the innumerable) that attracted you to him. He’s entirely engaged with the meal, analyzing aromas, asking about recipes, how you adapted it with your limited (yet steadily growing) arsenal of equipment, commenting about the freshness of the ingredients and inquiring which market or supplier you sourced them from. One of the hallmarks of your relationship is that he’s become more honest with his feedback, instead of being blithely complimentary about your culinary standards (which have improved since you started cooking together. He’s a little too exact, you were more "Just go with your gut and if it stays in the stomach, it’s good!")

You’d never taken him as someone effusive with his praise, even when warranted, so it’s a nice surprise to find out how unsparing he can be with his attention and passion. When he’s truly enjoying something though, he sits in complete silence, eyes involuntarily shut, fork or chopsticks poised between his lips - and you’ve never felt so goddamed envious of a bit of cutlery before. He lets out a low little hum you’re certain even he isn’t aware of, and your own reaction is Pavlovian, you can’t resist smiling at that sound. He’s caught it a few times when his eyes fly open, gaze swiftly searching for yours, eager to let you know how much he loves what you’ve done, even without words.

You’re the chef, but you feel so full, so well-fed when you see that expression. He’s nourishing, and ravishing all at once. The look he gives you promises to make good on the latter later tonight. Such in-depth conversations and moments extend the dinner hour, or hours occasionally, longer than they strictly need to be, but Nanami wouldn’t have it any other way, he wants all the time in the world at this table. But there are dishes to be done and pots to be scrubbed and matching aprons to put on.

You remember the first and so far only association between the word bashful and Nanami Kento, when he originally presented them to you It was also the first time you swore in front of him, which caught him completely by surprise. But you intended the expletive only to emphasize how endearing he was.

“Nanami, you’re so fucking cute sometimes, I -”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before you broke into more laughter as he shrugged and started to wear the apron, ribbons and all, accessorised with his gruff and reticent charm.

"Is it ok to use steelwool on this?”

~~~

Long nights with Nanami aren’t always due to the conduit of food as foreplay did someone suggest swapping out the third course for intercourse? He once pitted his stubbornness against an old scorch stain on the bottom of your Dutch oven, you begged him to just leave it to soak overnight babe isn’t there another oven you might want to put a bun in but he didn’t join you in bed till late, and then only smelling of lemons and white wine vinegar. Ordinarily you’d consider the combination of those ingredients potentially delicious, potent even, a citrus twist mingling with your man’s musk - but you’re restless and annoyed, that he’d busied his hands at the sink instead of beneath your sheets and now he’s tired. Peevishly you mused that he’d happily acquiesce if you asked, even directly, but you’re no longer in the mood now to appear alluring.

Plus, as you glance over at him reaching for his earphones on his nightstand, it seemed he had other plans. You contain your sigh and turn the page of your novel. You both had your own wind-down routines before you met, and they would rarely intersect. You usually tried to finish up a few chapters, he’d be listening to a podcast. Stock market forecasts or some other obscure series that fit under the financial advice category, you assumed.

Silence settled like a duvet over the two of you, each immersed in your respective stories.

You don’t mind this at all, you realize, comfortably nestled against Nanami’s chest, his arm draped around your shoulder. His hand encapsulates yours, rubbing small circles against your thumb. You really, really like this little habit of his.You realise you’re paying more attention to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat than the progress of the plot, it would be easier to doze off to…You feel something warm brush against the shell of your ear, something so familiar.

“You asleep?”

“No, not really, though asking that question is kinda counterintuitive if I was trying to.”

Nanami makes a sound in his throat that’s not quite a chuckle, it’s lost in the ruffle of his shirt as he pulls you closer against him.

“There’s something I want to share with you.”

There’s a rustle against your ears and this time it’s a slightly more foreign sensation, plastic and pliable and the voice of someone far more predisposed to suspense than Nanami.

“Oh, this is an audiobook?”

“Sort of a radio play. It’s a different story by the same author of this.”

Nanami taps the cover of the book that he had distracted you from, first unwittingly by his heartbeat and second, intentionally, with this recommendation. You’re only a few minutes in, but this narrative already sounds way more interesting. Well, that’s an understatement, you and Nanami end up binge-listening well past 2am and developing theories. You only stop because the subsequent episodes aren’t published yet. The next update will come in the following month. You declare the anticipation is agony, collapsing against the pillows, actually tired now. Nanami smiles, amused by your insomnia-induced melodrama and abrupt tailspin into exhaustion.

He leans over, pulling the blankets over you both and giving you a good night kiss on the cheek (or is it morning, by this point?). Before you drift off, you hear him murmur, “It’ll be worth the wait. I’m happy, just sharing this story with you.”

There’s something that sounds unusually sincere about his tone, something in between the lines of Nanami's simple statement, but you can’t quite be bothered to place it as sleep claims you. It matters little; there are many more mornings, afternoons and evenings where Nanami will reveal what he means, and how much you mean to him, in his own quiet, lingering ways.

#nanami kento hcs #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #nanami x y/n #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami headcanons #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x you #sandsorghum #jjk

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