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deepperplexity · 4 months

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Prompt: 11. Imperfect Holiday [D1]

Pairing: Gruber x Fem!OC

POV: First, OC

Setting: Train heading north through the English countryside

Continuation of: RICKMAS2022 Prompts 14. Icy Roads & 15. Frosty Glass

A/N: It’s been a year! Well, three days short of a year but still a year! And I’ve had so many messages, lots of asking about Hans and Anna-Louise — how it turns out, if she finds out who he really is, how she reacts to it if so, and everything else. I’m honestly so thrilled this story caught so many darlings’ attention and I’m more than happy to continue this story. As I write this it’s 16.09 the 10th of December and I’ve yet to actually start writing - the past few days have been hectic and my little one has been sick so there’s been need of extra cuddles which hasn’t allowed me to write until now. But I’m excited! (Continuing this note after I’ve written the fic…)

Okay, so, this turned out to be bloody long - again, why do I do this to myself? Especially on days I have so little time 😅👍 I’m very happy with the continuation of this story though, and in true Hans x Anna-Louise spirit, there will be one more part this RICKMAS - two parts, just like last year, and I’ll probably make it tomorrows prompt actually - why not? It matches up well and I’m sure to have a bloody war with the keyboard yesterday as well given I tend to make these fics longer. WORTH IT THOUGH! 🙈👏

Tags/TW’s: Different Lifestyles, Running Away (technically), Self Doubt, Forehead Kisses, Kissing, Caring, Hand Holding, Being Spoiled A Little, Falling In Love, Unmarked One Bed Trope, Motion Sickness, H/C, Patient MMC/Anxious FMC, Following One’s Heart, Secret Identity

Recap of last year’s fics: Anna-Louise (Lulu/Schnuki) Humphrey met Hans Gruber a snowy evening when he pushed her out of the way of an oncoming car while she were slipping around on an icy road in the middle of her run-down hometown. He captivated her with his handsome features and eyes that seemed to truly see her, and he was in turn captivated by her, seeing much potential and sweetness.

When they met again at the little café where Martha (the old lady with a fat dog and a cane she liked to swat at peoples legs) exclaimed him to be a handsome gentleman while Anna-Louise did all she could not to die of embarrassment at the old lady’s choices of conversation they ended up talking about her coming with him. Anna-Louise told Hans that was how to get kidnapped one-o-one but Hans pointed out he felt they were far more than mere strangers.

All her life she had been treated like a nuisance, a person not even worth mentioning by her full name — sometimes just as blabber missy even — and she had longed for years to leave. But she’d been frightened, fearing she’d end up a lonely puddle of anxiety more than anything. Yet, Anna-Louise ended up running to the train station at nine in the evening, hoping he would be there, and of course, he was. They left the poor little town together on the train heading north after sharing a toe-curling embrace where Hans kissed her forehead while calling her Schnuki and his sweet treat…

Word Count: 4.9k+

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

The train lurched into action and my stomach dropped. I was a silly-nilly, a delulu Lulu truly. It’s all gone pear-shaped now, hasn’t it? Dad won’t make it without me, sis will be a furious mess for him to deal with when Ferdinand’s litter box needs cleaning and when he needs his weekly bath with the oils and nobody will do the laundry, and the bins, it’ll pile over and— But my eyes went to Hans at that moment — sitting opposite me in a private cabin with red chequered seating and walnut furnish — and my rampant thoughts calmed down.

He watched me, his undivided attention fully on me. I wanted to squirm under his clear eyes yet I remained still, feeling wholly seen and wanted by that mere look of his. “Is my mind in a hoax with my eyes?” he asked, making me scrunch my brows. “I can’t believe you are actually sitting there, here, with me.” My cheeks burned at his words, spoken in that German accent of his. “I can’t believe it myself to be honest. I feel… Stupid.” “Stupid?” he asked, his eyes widening while his brows shot up. “This is a thing of romance movies and hostage situations, perhaps a police chase movie with bombs and exploding train tracks that’ll force the passengers to jump into the snow at break-neck speeds and run for their lives or—” I clamped my mouth shut. “Sorry, rambling again…”

Hans tilted his head, one leg crossed over the other with his coat only resting atop his shoulders, watching me with a small smirk. He was too bloody handsome. My very bones felt warmed by that daftly charming smirk. It wasn’t as devastatingly chaos-wrecking as his smile though. I liked both equally either way.

“You are worried, no?” he asked. “Worried?” “Well, you said it yourself, we are strangers and it is kidnapping one-o-one for a woman not to go anywhere with a stranger, especially a man. Yet,” he held out his hands, “here you are. Having boarded a train taking you anywhere.” The fact he remembered exactly what I’d said had my heart performing a stutter before my mind kicked into gear. “Not anywhere, last station is Durham, I’ve wanted to take this train many times. Not that I ever thought I would, I kept track, pun not intended mind you, but I never thought I’d actually get on, you know? Where would I go? I have nowhere to go, never had anywhere to go, and why would I leave when my family needs me,” I rambled on, my nerves getting the better of me again. Stop, stop, just, stop, or he’ll kick you off the train before you can say you’re a blabber missy. God, I’m so annoying.

“Well, you are correct, schnuki. The last station is Durham. The rest of your words, I can’t deem as right.” “What? Why?” “You have everywhere to go, many things to see and experience. Your family treats you poorly and I, for one, do not accept someone as bright and sweet as you to be kept bound to such a terrible fate. Cat claws and mints, doing other people’s bidding at all times.” He watched me most intently as he spoke, goosebumps travelled down my spine when he spoke of doing other people’s bidding, the words felt two-fold for some reason I couldn’t wrap my thought-riddled head around.

“You’re rather blunt, you know.” I thought that from the very start so maybe it’s a trait of his? Or a German thing? Martha would have a field day if he were to join for crisply burnt biscuits and cold tea next Thurs— Ah, right… “Schnuki?” I shook my head to focus on the man and not my bloody overwhelming thoughts. “Are you well?” he continued. “S-sorry, just, lots of thoughts.” “Speak them,” he said, leaning back and getting comfortable (at least it looked like it).

I blinked at him for a moment, my hand squeezing the edge of my duffel bag beside me while I did all I could not to weep at those words. He probably thought little of them, but they had me gobsmacked. “Speak them?” “Yes, you know, say them out loud. Is that not the term in England? Works fine in America.” I chuckled while my entire face heated. “Yeah, sure, it’s right but… I talk enough as it is.” “I doubt you could ever talk enough, schnuki,” he said with a deep chuckle.

My face sank, my shoulders slouched and I felt a million utterances of blabber missy and shut it, Lulu attack me from within. From the past. The very, very recent past. But Hans wasn’t like that, he wasn’t some prick spilling poppycock into my ear or forcing me to do something I didn’t want to do. No, he made me do something I’d dreamt myself blue about.

The plush bench beneath me sank on my left side, Hans sat right next to me and I hadn’t even noticed he’d moved. His hand enveloped mine, my eyes turned wide while he squeezed my still-scratched-up skin — Ferdinand was probably at the top of the tree now, swatting at tinsel and knocking off the star at the top while I was nowhere in sight and I wasn’t sure how it made me feel knowing the feral kitty wouldn’t be fully cared for. Would he end up on the street or could I at least count on sis keeping him, and feeding him?

“You are brave, my sweet treat,” Hans said. “I will not allow you to squander your life away any longer, understand me?” he continued and I gulped down a breath before nodding, my constant stream of words quiet for the moment. My insides were in shambles over the sudden close contact though, he was so warm, and he smelt like mint— No, not mint, menthol. Menthol and ginger, and something… something else I’ve never smelt before. “Speak those thoughts,” Hans said beside me. “You smell good,” I blurted out without thinking first.

My ears were given a cacophony of his laugh, deep and rumblingly loud — it was perfect. “You smell like a treat,” Hans said and smiled at me after he’d stopped laughing. “A sweet treat.” “Oh, it’s my shower gel, it’s scented like gingerbread cookies.” “Ah, yes, that’s the smell, partly at least. There’s more to it though.” “More?” “Yes, something incredibly sweet,” Hans continued and we fell silent as our eyes locked. His were so clear, so open, and endlessly bright with sprinkles of grey within the blue I hadn’t noticed before. Blimey, you’re perfection… “I’d say that’s you,” he said softly and I blinked. “Did-, did I say that aloud?” He chuckled and leaned in, kissing my temple, while he rumbled a deep “yes”.

My cheeks burned, feeling bloody mortified and flustered. “Oh,” I managed and he squeezed my hand. “You have the brightest of voices, schnuki. Speak as much as you need,” he assured and what on earth was I supposed to think of that? Nobody had ever said such a thing before, my voice was annoying and far too shrill, and used too often too — ask anyone, I’m a blabbering nuisance.

We fell into a stiff silence, but he never let go of my hand and the train chugged onward toward the north with the winter wonderland hidden in darkness outside the window only reflecting the inside of the space we sat in. Hans urged me to get some sleep, we were apparently a few hours away from our stop, but how could I possibly sleep with adrenaline and nerves turning me into a mess? I felt a sandwich short of a picnic, as if I’d gone completely bonkers — the entire situation was madness, and what if it all went to pot? Dad and sis would take the Mickey out of me if I returned home after a few days, they’d know I tried to get away and have a laugh at my uselessness…

Hans had already drifted off to sleep beside me, his hand softly clasped around my smaller one while my entire body gravitated toward his. He was warm, sturdy, and I couldn’t help but lean against him while my eyelids drooped. It was close to midnight I think when I finally dozed off, my head still spinning with questions and worries of all kinds.

***

Hans called my name just as I chased Ferdinand through the house to snag him up in a towel after his weekly bath. He hissed and roared in a manner no kitty was ever supposed to, I clamped down on him, rubbing with the towel when Hans called my name again. My home evaporated and I found myself back on the train, clamping down on Hans’ hand too harshly. I let go and scooted to the side a bit.

“Dreams?” “Just, yeah, Ferdinand needed a bath and I had to dry him and rub him with a— Oh, you don’t need to know that, sorry,” I said while my voice went from hoarse to its usual state. “The cat?” “Yeah, right, sis’ cat. He’s a feral thing, he’s sweet, but he’s… Sorry…” He nodded and reached out to grab my hand anew, little indents from my nails littered his skin, just beneath his knuckles. “I’m sorry, I-, I didn’t mean to scratch you.” “This?” he asked, holding our joined hands up. “It’s nothing, don’t fret over it, sweet treat,” he continued and kissed my fingers one at a time — I was sent into a burning heaven of warmth by the action.

The train came to a halt and my sluggish brain went into overdrive again as Hans let go of me and stood. “This is us,” he said and the speakers sparked to life with a woman saying “Darlington Station” and then repeated it once more. “We’re off here?” I asked and he nodded while grabbing my bag for me. He had no luggage at all it seemed.

My nose wrinkled at the sight, he walked ahead of me as the doors were too narrow for us both to go through and the lane just as tight. My bag looked beyond cheap when slung over his shoulder dressed with a seemingly incredibly expensive coat, and the Oxfords on his feet paired with the grey linen trousers matched so perfectly that my bag stood out like a ragged reindeer among Arabian horses.

He took my hand the moment we stepped off the train, the station lay nearly deserted so there was no need to stick close yet he kept me right by his side. “I can carry that myself, you know,” I said and he nearly glared at me. “No.” “I’m perfectly capable—” “I’m aware, but just because a lady is capable doesn’t mean she should. You should know how to change a tire, but you shouldn’t have to do it. You are perfectly capable of carrying your bag, but I will not allow it when I can do such a thing for you, schnuki.” “O-oh…” I whispered, my cheeks once more burning hot while he smirked at me and squeezed my hand.

We moved across the street to a car park with snow crunching beneath our feet. Hans released my hand and bent down by a gorgeous car — it was sleek and maroon blue with an air of richness to it. It looked like it hadn’t been parked there for very long though. He dragged his hand by the wheel and produced a set of keys.

“This is yours?” “Rental,” he said. “Allow me.” He opened the passenger door like a gentleman and I slunk inside, keeping my feet outside the door to dunk them against each other not to drag in more snow than needed. The creamy leather smelled divine even if it were terribly cold, my old jeans did little to keep the chill of the seat from crawling into my skin and up my spine while Hans dropped my bag in the trunk and slid into the driver’s side.

The engine purred to life and I buckled up. “Good girl,” he said and gave the strap over my upper body a tug, cinching it across my middle at the same time. “There, perfectly strapped,” he continued with a cheeky grin and began backing out of the lot while I gaped at him.

Hans drove with skill and ease, weaving through the streets, taking several turns along smaller ones with tightly packed buildings dressed in Christmas lights standing on each side before the open road lay before us and my eyes remained fixed on the road ahead. Should have grabbed my motion sickness patches, I thought while my stomach protested and the back of my mouth filled with saliva I struggled to swallow.

“Are we driving far?” I asked, my voice quieter than usual as I gripped the car door to make my body feel a bit more stable, it usually helped the motion sickness a wee bit at least. “Twenty minutes, given the roads are clear. Why?” Hans glanced toward me and his eyes widened. I was probably a bit pale. “Motion sickness,” I said, slightly shamed by being a nuisance once more. “I’ll drive as steadily as I can. Is it speed, turns or the motion in general?” he asked and I gaped at him, feeling like my jaw got too much exercise since I met him. The care and interest he showed in everything regarding me was insane. “Acceleration and unsteadiness,” I confirmed to be the worst parts for me. “But you drive really well.” “I’ll do my best to keep steady, schnuki.”

Hans eventually slowed down when we entered a narrower street lined by giant trees void of greenery. It was still pretty though. “Here we are,” he said and steadily slowed down before making a smooth turn into a giant estate with several brick buildings. It was absolutely beautiful but truth be told I just wanted out of the car to breathe some fresh are and stave off the motion sickness. The red sign at the end of the driveway dressed with garlands and twinkling lights said Headlam Hall, Rural Resort & Spa in golden letters.

I was out the door as soon as the car stood still. Hans came around and stroked my back a few seconds later while I breathed deeply to take away the worst illness. The fresh air was wonderfully clean and crisp. A faint scent of cinnamon and hay lingered within it and I honestly couldn’t say I disliked that particular smell. Smelled like Christmas on the countryside.

“Are you alright?” he asked gently, his care beyond sweet. “Yeah, just need some air, it’ll pass in a few minutes. Sorry for being such a nuisance, Hans.” “Don’t say such a thing.” He looked almost offended at the words. “What thing?” “You are in no way a nuisance. Had I known I would have procured some pills for you.” “That’s my responsibility, I have patches at home, crazy how well they work for me without side effects. Should have grabbed them, but I packed so fast. Martha got them for me, some Chinese shop had them when she was in London visiting her sister. They’re bloody brilliant really, the pills always make me drowsy for over a day, and I— Oh, sorry, rambling,” I said and stopped myself from spewing more unnecessary words by taking a deep breath. “Stop gifting me words in your sweet voice only to apologize for it,” Hans said gently and kissed my temple. I shivered in my thin, tattered jacket and he fetched my bag while I tried to steady my legs — if it were his sweetness or the motion sickness making me wobbly I couldn’t really tell.

I was in some form of an awed daze while Hans led me inside the three-story brick building covered in vines that still held their leaves even in winter. The building was beautifully decorated with fairy lights around windows and the roof, with a blanket of snow all around it looked like it was taken out of one of those Christmas rom-coms where they needed to save the inn only to end up falling in love and living happily ever after (after some sappy words or cringe-worthy kissing scene).

The reception area was spotless, a beautiful mix of modern and classic English style that made me feel completely misplaced. It was rich, luxurious, and far beyond anything I’d ever dreamt of experiencing up close. Unlike the little café in my hometown with its tacky santas, plastic garlands, and altogether jumbled decorations this place was stunningly decorated in red and gold with real trees and boughs. I felt truly out of my depth. But Hans, well, he moved with an air of belonging to him, his strides confident and his whole look made it feel as if it were an obvious thing he belonged in such surroundings.

I kept looking around, nearly twisting my neck off to see without moving my legs, and Hans got our room sorted and declined any attempts of the receptionist to ring for someone to show him to it. He ended up leading us through the building, past a modern bar with a burning fireplace and sitting area next to it, through a big room with several seating areas, up some stairs, and through some hallways. It was as if he knew where he was going, as if he’d been there before. I merely followed like a lost puppy.

The room was stunning. Absolutely gorgeous with hints of tweed fabric, deeply rich wooden furnishing, and pale beige and white fabrics that soften it all. Tasteful Christmas decorations were placed in perfect spots and there was even a little hearth in the room, with two winged-backed chairs and a little table in front of it as well as two stockings hanging from the mantel. The giant four-poster bed screamed for me to lay down but the bathroom off to the side called for me even more.

Hans came up behind me, setting my bag on the floor before wrapping me in his arms, holding my back toward his front while my heart hammered as if I were some silly little schoolgirl with an irrevocable crush and filled with unruly hormones. “How about a bath before bed?” he rumbled by my ear and I nodded, lost for words by how closely he held me. “I’ll sort the room and you go relax, schnuki. Take a bath, and then we’ll turn in for the night.” “Sounds good,” I managed to say while he kissed my temple quickly before letting me go.

I ended up taking a long shower rather than a bath. I was too tired to wait for the tub to fill and it felt like a waste when I hadn’t the energy to really enjoy a long soaking. Hans didn’t bother me, even if I had left the door unlocked. As I dried my hair, while wrapped in the lushest of white robes, my tired body began to tremble. My hands worst of all while my legs felt like overcooked spaghetti strings beneath me.

I sank down on the chair by the claw-footed tub, squeezing the towel in my hands to try and stop the shaking. I left. I really left. And I’m in a spa resort, with a German bloke I don’t know. I’m a bloody moron for all of this. Am I completely daft? I’m usually not some muppet, but this is beyond stupid. I can’t even get home if I want to, not that I want to. I don’t want to, why don’t I want to go home? Shouldn’t I want to be with my family and all that good old hometown fluffing people always talk about? Especially during Christmas no matter that I know it would be a more than imperfect holiday, a disaster as usual, with things for all others and none for me but those from Santa that really are just from me to me. I'd probably end up wailing in bed with my face pressed into the damn pillow, just like every year...

A knock at the door interrupted my, rambling, pittyfull thoughts. “Yeah?” “Are you dressed?” he asked. “I’m in a robe.” The door opened the next second and I did all I bloody could to stop my hands from shaking and my face from betraying my anxious state. “Schnuki, my sweet treat, are you alright?” Hans asked while he stepped up to me, sinking to one knee while wrapping up my hands, still holding the wet towel, in his. “I’m— Well— I am, I am but, I’m not. I should be, and I am, but not really no.” I made no sense.

“Let’s get you to bed, you need sleep. Did you eat before meeting me?” “No, no Dad had his pals for poker and sis had me running to the shop for a new lipstick and then I packed, and I tried to make sure Ferdinand would have enough food and I did his litter box, cleaned it fully and put new sand and everything and I took out the trash and started a load of laundry and then I packed, and I cleaned my room and stripped the bed so—” “Schnuki, my sweet treat, calm down for me,” he said and cupped my face with his hands, his eyes holding mine steadily while I stopped rambling; in a rush to explain myself to the best of my capabilities so he would understand why I hadn’t eaten.

“There’s a silk pyjama on the bed for you,” he said, talking softly as if I were some delicate thing needing gentle care. “I’ll order some room service and you’ll eat before we sleep. Eggs and bacon, sound good?” “Y-yeah,” I exhaled, feeling all degrees of spoiled and pampered, cared for, and baffled by the warmth it filled my stupidly thundering heart with. I’m such a silly-nilly… I couldn’t help but wonder if I had been right two days ago, about Christmas being the time for kindness and care, perhaps this Christmas would be one like that for me?

“Alright then. I need to make a call, I’ll be on the balcony.” “There’s a balcony?” I asked, my eyes widening, and he smirked with a cheeky look. “We’ll have breakfast with blankets out there tomorrow, sound good? The view is fantastic you see.” “Oh, oh yeah, sounds brilliant,” I replied and he kissed my forehead most softly before leaving me to dry off my hair completely. That I wished to know what those lips felt like against my own was a thought I couldn’t quite get to pipe down. I bet he’s brilliant at kissing, nothing like Bobby Parker… I shuddered at the memory of my first kiss, and soon enough my mind ping-ponged like a rabbit between holes in the ground with memories of the kisses I’d had in life.

Bloody hell, I’ve had terrible luck in the love department… Well, the kissing department, I’ve never fallen in love with anyone. Maybe it’s all the blokes unable to kiss making me unable to fall in love. But I knew it was a place thing, rather than anything else. Living in a tiny town had few options lining themselves up, and with my sis being the pretty and popular one I stood even less of a chance. Every bloke I’d ever kissed she’d already been pawing in one way or another only to lose interest.

I hung the towel to dry and left the bathroom only to see the lilac-coloured pyjama set of silk on the giant bed. It looked like pure luxury. I’m supposed to wear that? I couldn’t do it, so I rummaged around in my bag for my old flannel pyjama bottoms and my old Bowie tee washed out completely and worn at the seams with a little hole right where I always fiddled with the hem. I glanced at the lilac silk once more before scurrying back into the bathroom and changing.

I walked over to the balcony door, finding Hans pacing on the other side of the glass in just his linen trousers and white shirt, his red tie still firmly secured too. He looked good enough to eat whole. Don’t be daft, Lulu…

As he paced back and forth I could hear a muffled snippet of his conversation every time he was close to the door. Words of stocks and vaults, then words of exits and insurances. Perhaps he worked on the stock market? Or a bank? He looked the part, like one of those Wall Street blokes you’d see on TV from time to time. Just, less dishevelled and without the crazed look of rapid exchanges needing one’s full attention.

“We will be in and out in four minutes,” he said while stopping with his back toward the door. I saw him fully through the sheer curtains but he hadn’t taken any notice of me. “Alex can crack it, Henry will be in the car and it’ll be smooth sailing. I’m close to Newcastle, picked up a little something special on the way so I’m a day late and will be two days late getting there. Can I trust you to handle getting the team set up and ready to go in four days? Friday’s are checking days, it’ll be stocked.” I wasn’t sure what the bloody hell I was hearing but it sounded important. His voice was so much harder than when he spoke to me, and clipped in a different way entirely. The sweetness and care had vanished, leaving only a decisive deep voice behind. A commanding one at that.

He ended the call and I scurried back to my bag, rummaging through it, pretending to search for something when the door opened and closed behind me. For some daft reason, I wasn’t scared despite the red flag of him being so different on the phone. Nothing about Hans scared me, not even being in the dark about who he was. He was Hans, he cared and he listened. He tended to me and took me away from the place I’d been dreaming of escaping for years but never dared to leave. He saved my life the very first time we met. I don’t know anyone who’d put themselves in harm’s way for others… Especially not any stranger in the middle of the road.

“Schnuki, what’s this?” he asked and I half turned my head, still kneeling on the floor by the foot of the bed with my hands in my bags. “Do you not like my present for you?” he asked with a glance toward the pyjama set. “You bought them?” I asked while straightening, abandoning my pretend hunt. “Yes.” When? “I love them,” I confessed. “But I can’t wear that.” “ That ? Something wrong with them?” “No, no! They’re perfect and pretty and super soft and a beautiful colour and everything,” I rushed out. “They’re just… expensive looking. I don’t wanna ruin them, you know?” “Ruin them? By wearing them as intended?” Sure, when you say it like that it sounds as silly as a goose having shoes and a bonnet.

Hans stepped closer, his eyes roaming over my form hidden beneath the loose, tattered fabric I wore. He tugged me into his arms and I gasped at the sudden closeness. He was still so warm, despite having been out in the cold English winter for several minutes. “Anna-Louise,” he said gently, “you ought to get accustomed to wearing fancy things, and eating good food, being in luxurious surroundings. I won’t have you in anything less than that.” “Hans… What-, what do you mean? I’m perfectly fine with way less, I don’t need all that fancy stuff. I’m used to—” “You’ll get used to better things quickly enough, schnuki,” he interrupted. “Hans, we barely know each other, you can’t lavish me with things like that.” “Don’t say such a thing.” “That I don’t want to be lavished upon like some fancy old lady sitting in parlours sipping tea in expensive silk while waiting for her dear husband to return home from some overseas journey?” I joked while giggling, but he didn’t laugh. “Hans?” “I do a lot of business overseas, would it be terrible of me to wish to come home to you, waiting in pretty silk, after each trip?”

He took a step back while I tried to take in what he’d said. Our eyes locked together and I damn near couldn’t breathe as he looked at me with such longing. “In pretty silk?” I whispered, wholly overwhelmed and wondering what kind of rich man I’d stumbled upon. “All finery imaginable,” he said with a nod. “Why would you want me?” I asked, for the first time posing the question which had been bugging me for a long time without me realising it. “Why would I not want you?” he asked, but before I could ramble a number of reasons, he kissed me.

I melted. He kissed me softly but with urgency, his thin lips perfect against mine. He kissed me so well my foot came off the bloody floor like in a sappy romance movie, I couldn’t help it. Fireworks exploded in my veins, my mind turned utterly quiet and nothing in the world mattered but him holding me close, kissing me with passion and longing leaking out of him with a dark hum while his arms tightened around me.

…To Be Continued…

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: Oh boy... this really did turn out to be quite long but gosh I love these two so much I can't help but wanting to write for them - and it's just too much fun too 😂👏 I hope you enjoyed the continuation of this story from last year and as I said above there will be one more part to this story tomorrow! Hope you're excited for even more of these two and the secrets they carry along with the love that's flourishing between them 🥰❤

Q: Would you rather spend Christmas at a big resort, with all amenities, or a small town in a picturesque cottage? 🎄 A: I'll take the cottage - I do love those cosy vibes and I don't mind having to stoke a fire and wear an extra jumper and socks 🥰

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[Dec:2023]

#rickmas2023 #rickmas 2023 #rickmas #hans gruber #hans gruber x oc #hans gruber fic #christmas fic #alan rickman #rickmaniac

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frithwontdie · 1 year

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Do white Americans owe reperations to blacks? NO!

In America, Reparations have already been paid. To the point that it’s beyond ridiculous. Whites have gone out of their way to artificially boost Nonwhites at every turn. Trillions of tax dollars and donations have been spent over decades trying to boost non-white achievements and social status. Also dept relief, Crt, affirmative action, first step act, donations for past wrong doings, school degrees, food stamps, welfare programs, etc.

Alot of whites and some jews through out American history tried to help blacks become a separate & self-reliant people (the pursuit of Booker T. Washington) through education.

The Freedman's Bureau (1865 to 1872) :

The Freedman’s Bureau (officially known as ‘The Bureau of Refugees, Freedmen, and Abandoned Lands’) was created by Americans to feed and provide other life necessities to the Negro population of the South after the Civil War ended in 1865. However, well before the end of the Civil War, Americans organized all over the North various organizations to feed, clothe, educate and provide other needed necessities for the newly freed Negro people Note: according to W.E.B Du Bios, more than 50 organizations were active in relief capacity for the southern Negro by 1866.

"The First white people in America, certainly the first in the South to exhibit their interest in the reaching of the Negro and saving his soul through the medium of the Sunday-school were Robert E. Lee and 'Stonewall Jackson'. ...Where Robert E. Lee and 'Stonewall' Jackson have led in the redemption of the Negro through the Sunday-school, the rest of us can afford to follow. " - Booker T. Washington 1910

The Tuskegee Institute:

This icon of Black education was founded by the great Booker T Washington and was also the brainchild of an Alabama prominent banker by the name of George W. Campbell (White man). Another White man, an Alabama state senator named W.F. Foster, spearheaded the necessary funding for the Institute through the state legislature. The result was a yearly appropriation of $2000.

The following white Americans, all self-made millionaires, gave small fortunes - their own hard earned money - to this Negro self-sufficiency school over their lifetime:

--Andrew Carnegie

--John D. Rockefeller

--Henry Rodgers

--Collis Huntington

And,

--Julius Rosenwald*

--Anna T. Jeanes*

* Julius Rosenwald was an immigrant Jew and self-made millionaire.

* Anna T. Jeanes, a white woman, was not a self-made millionaire, but inherited her money from her husband.

Howard University

Howard University was chartered in 1867. It was championed by an American Civil War General, Oliver Otis Howard (November 8, 1830 – October 26, 1909), and the school hence bears his name. Howard University is also the ONLY higher education school ever to be directly funded by the US taxpayers (it still is).

Lincoln University

Lincoln University (Pennsylvania) was an exclusive college for Negroes and was created in 1854 by a white man named John Miller Dickey, who also became its first president. Lincoln University was originally named Ashmun Institute. The first Black president of the university was not elected until 1945.

Fisk University

Fisk University was an all-Negro college that was established by three whites, Erastus Milo Cravath, John Ogden and Edward Parmelee Smith in Nashville, Tennessee, in 1866.

Wilberforce University

Wilberforce University, located near Xenia, in Ohio, was an all-Negro college created by whites from the Methodist Episcopal Church in 1856. It was named after a white man, William Wilberforce, who was an 18th century abolitionist.

Cheyney University of Pennsylvania

Cheyney University of Pennsylvania was an all-Negro school established in 1837. A white man named Richard Humphreys had bequeathed $10,000 in his will (10% of his estate) in 1832 for the sole purpose of creating a place of education for the Negro race.

Atlanta University

Atlanta University was founded by whites associated with the American Missionary Association, in 1865. Around 1866, its survival then shifted to, and depended upon, the Americans associated with the Freedman’s Bureau.

In 1922, the Carnegie Corporation and the Rockefeller Memorial gave $25,000 each to create the Journal Of Negro History.

In 1924, George Eastman (Kodack Co.) gave Tuskegee Institute $1 million dollars.

John D. Rockefeller

Mr. Rockefeller donated almost $180 million dollars to the General Education Board, which was chartered by Act of Congress in 1903. Much of this money was spent supplying educational aid to the Negro people, specifically in the southern states (Mr. Rockefeller‘s $180 million translates to almost 2 billion dollars in today's dollars!)

George Peabody Education Fund for poor Southerners

George Peabody Education Fund was established by a white man named George Peabody, and was designed to help Negro colleges in the South at the turn of the century.

The Slater Fund

The Slater Fund was established by white, James Fox Slater, in 1882. Its primary purpose was to support southern Negro schools. Around 1915, this fund was worth about $1.75 million.

The Jeanes Fund (Jeanes Foundation)

A white woman named Miss Anna T. Jeanes, a Quaker, created 'The Fund for Rudimentary Schools for Southern Negroes’ in 1907 from the monies left to her by her late husband. The purpose of the fund was to help Negroes create teachers for their people. It was endowed at one million dollars (a staggering sum at the time).

The Southern Education Board: In or around 1900, whites created the The Southern Education Board. It's funding was initially provided by the Slater Fund and the Jeans Funds. Americans, trained in the area of farming, would go to rural farms (Negro and American) and educate them on better farming techniques. The Southern Education Board was also very concerned with the high southern Negro illiteracy, which was, in 1900, almost 50% (for southern Americans, around 11%).

Phelps-Stokes Fund

Established in 1911, a white philanthropist and self-made millionaire Anson Phelps Stokes created this fund for the purpose of improving Negro life through education. Its endowment was approximately $900,000.

Minor Fund

This fund was established by a white female, Miss Myrtilla Minor, in 1851. Its purpose was to provide aid to schools who would teach Negro girls to be teachers for their people.

In 1910, according to the US census, 50% of Negroes (about 4.8 million) lived in urban centers (all created by white males). That means there would be approximately 2.4 million Negro males living in the urban centers of America. About 1/3rd would be too young to work, so that means there were about 1.6 million Negro males of working age living in American-built cities in 1910. Of those 1.8 million Negro males, 350,000 (almost 20%!) worked in a factory job (all factory jobs for the Negro were supplied by White men i.e. not ONE factory job in America was created by a Negro male --so, concomitantly, no white man was employed by a Negro male in a factory job. Note: At this time in American history, you worked or you starved. (source: Chronological History of The Negro pg. 358)

Naturally, with whites, being so generous supplying jobs to black men, naturally, more black men were encouraged to come to the American-built urban areas.

Julius Rosenwald

Without question one of the most generous of the Euro race toward the black people was Julius Rosenwald (Jewish). Most of his charity was gifted through the Rosenwald Fund (depleted in 1948)

Cushing Fund

A white woman, Miss Emeline Cushing, established this fund in 1895 for the purpose of financially assisting colored schools.

Whites Create Special School - In Mississippi. - For Negro Boys To Own Land

Daniel Hand Fund

A white self-made millionaire, Daniel Hand, established the Daniel Hand Fund in 1888. It was endowed at $1 million dollars (two-thirds of Mr. Hand’s entire personal wealth!). Mr. Hand stipulated that all of the Fund would be directed toward Negro education in the former slave states. When Mr. Hand died in 1893, he bequeathed the rest of his remaining wealth to this fund.

Andrew Carnegie

Mr. Carnegie, when he retired, was considered the richest man in the world. He also became the biggest philanthropist in America and gave generously to Negro educational causes, which included giving $600,000 to the Tuskegee Institute in 1903.

Harmon Foundation

The New York City Harmon Foundation was established in 1922 by an white man named William Harmon (1862-1928). Its purpose was to aid and assist Negro art, artists, businesses, education for Negroes, farming needs, music, and other causes for the Negro.

Garland Fund

This White-male-established fund was used to help the NAACP through the Great Depression.

John D. Rockefeller Jr.

Mr. Rockefeller, Jr. built the Dunbar Apartments in New York City, a mammoth complex consisting of six buildings - 511 apartments - specifically to house low-income Negroes in Harlem. He also built and funded a bank in NYC solely for Negroes.

Katharine Drexel

Katherine Drexel was born November 26, 1858 and died March 3, 1955. She was an American female, a nun, philanthropist, educator and later canonized as a Roman Catholic saint.

"She became a nun, and took the name Sister Katharine, dedicating herself and her inheritance to the needs of [non-occupational ranking] Native Americans and African-Americans in the western and southwestern United States, and was a vocal advocate of racial tolerance. She established a religious order, the Sisters of the Blessed Sacrament for Indians and Colored People. She also financed more than 60 missions and schools around the United States, and founded Xavier University of Louisiana[1] - the only historically Black, Roman Catholic university in the United States to date."

The United Negro College Fund

In 1944 the United Negro College Fund was created. Almost all of the funding for its initial operation was provided by the General Education Fund and the Rosenwald Fund.

Mr. William Trent, a black man, in the course of his 20-year tenure as its first executive director, raised over $78 million for this fund, almost all of it coming from generous white liberal Americans (Senator John F. Kennedy gave all of the profits from his book ‘Profiles in Courage' to this fund).

Also American Jews also gave money to black people. Before 1950, it was mostly coming from the Rosenwald fund.

Minority scholarships:

Low income:

It’s open to illegal immigrants, too, but white people? Forget it. And when we learn that “800 Compton residents to get guaranteed income in two-year pilot program,” since Compton is only 2 percent white – yes, just 2 percent – white people won’t get that money.

Having to change the requirements of mental retardation, because too many blacks IQ's were that low.

https://mn.gov/mnddc/parallels2/pdf/90s/99/99-MRI-MLW.pdf

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chezzabellesworld · 25 days

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Virgo or 6 th house films 🤯🦆🌳🪡♟️💡🔑♍️

Lolita he's a very very film is going from deloreth to Lolita and Humphrey Humphrey he's a writer, he is also a twisted paedophile who falls in love with 14 year old Dolores which blows the lines Virgo also rules grooming so many virgos can be in relationships from a very young age with older men I ever know it's up in a lot but it's really good film to show this and it's been really over abuse of the coquette look and style of he hides himself in Plain Sight by dating the mother and then letting her down and destroying their world around them and not being attracted to her because he's attracted to young children. Think of Evan Rachel Wood With Marilyn Manson massive age gap and she was under age when they got together and he had her wearing the heart-shaped sunglasses she is also a Virgo. The Devil Wears Prada I think is a perfect Virgo film it talks about all the facts of fashion and magazines and articles but also the stone coldness of Meryl streep's character who is meant to be like Anna Winter it's a perfect Virgo funny film it's also like the mind over Virgo or heavy Virgo placements in fact each of the main women in the film embody Virgo tendencies all differently Emily Blunt's character by restricting herself and not allowed and herself to have any fun Andy and halfways character by the final loving side of ago which is really mutable as it's energy and modality and light-heartedness of go camping she is the light side well wall Emily is the darker side and then the main character the boss is the knit picky side of Virgo and the precise decisive analytical critical. Find Lily I picked oranges and new black as the TV show it's a great drama about wheat females in prison and they're different it is everything you could want from a TV show lives and how they all they all fall under hard times there's prison riots there's mental illness there's power control there is reverse psychology there's misogyny that are same-sex relationships it's a hard-hitting drama and I know anyone with Virgo or 6th house placements.will love any of these. will love this show

#astro observations #astro placements #astro community #astrology #astrology observations #astro notes #astroblr #fypage #virgo placements #virgo #6th house #tv shows #films #orange is the new black #devil wears prada #lolitia

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mamomare · 8 months

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* TW: This post contains mention of characters who died during pregnancy/childbirth and suicide.

The dawn of a new century brought with it the winds of change. Alfred and his new bride, Anna, forsook the silk trade to move to Henford-on-Bagley to pursue nectar making. The move did not bring the family luck and on her 20th birthday, Anna lost the battle to typhoid and passed. Alone, and on an abandoned farm with almost no funds, Alfred had to work hard to rebuild his home and his family. Eventually, he met the humble Celestina, who was able to give him two heirs before, in 1409, he too was taken from this life. Going into the 1410s, our two main households - the Brookers and the Cliffords- must fight to keep their legacy alive, as there are very few eligble heirs remaining to pass on the family name. Meanwhile, the new families of Shaw and Bigod are blessed with a number of children to carry on the family name. Come 1420, will we still be able to call this the Brooker legacy?

Marriages [4] 1401 - Alfred and Celestina Brooker 1405 - Walter and Colette Clifford 1406 - Philip and Mary Brooker 1409 - Humphrey and Eva Beaufort

Births [10] 1401 - Adelaide Bigod 1403 - Petra Shaw, Leif Brooker 1406 - Adrian Bennet, Jeremiah Bigod, Dorothy Shaw, Marigold Brooker, Wymand Clifford 1407 - Sigrid Clifford 1408 - Wilkin Shaw Deaths [15] 1400 - Edmund Brooker (Dysentery), Fulke Brooker (Influenza), Anne Brooker (Typhoid) 1401 - Emil Bennet (Pneumonia), Solomon Bigod (Dysentery) 1404 - Theobald Brooker (Malaria) 1406 - Fray Bennet (Typhoid), Ricard Shaw (Hypothermia) 1407 - Walter Clifford (Stroke), Marion Brooker (Drowned), Malota Bennet (Diptheria) 1408 - Malyna Clifford (Heart attack), Philip Brooker (Suicide), Mary Brooker (Childbirth) 1409 - Alfred Brooker (Horse injury) * Babies that never were [9]: Aline Brooker, Erika Bennet, Florian Bennet, Edme Bigod, Osric Shaw, Pascal Shaw, Euphemia Brooker, Lothar Brooker, Orvin Brooker Family Tree at 1410

Gameplay

The Brooker Estate (1410)

(Still a work in progress!)

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brokehorrorfan · 6 months

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Broke Horror Fan presents Creepshow: Animated Special & Holiday Special on limited edition, fully functional VHS! Our latest tape is on sale now at Witter Entertainment.

A Creepshow Animated Special features segments based on short stories by Stephen King and Joe Hill. It’s directed by Greg Nicotero (The Walking Dead) and stars Kiefer Sutherland (The Lost Boys) and Joey King (The Conjuring).

A Creepshow Holiday Special is written and directed by Greg Nicotero. Adam Pally (Happy Endings) and Anna Camp (True Blood) star, with a special appearance by Lil Yachty.

The two episodes arrive on VHS together with two variants: a standard slipcase and a book box edition with a flip-open cover and a yellow tape (limited to 100).

Both versions feature artwork by Graham Humphreys and Devon Whitehead. Each tape includes an exclusive introduction by director of photography Robert Draper.

For optimal VHS viewing, the episodes have been cropped from their original aspect ratio to 4:3 full frame. It is officially licensed from RLJE Films and Shudder.

#creepshow #stephen king #lil yachty #kiefer sutherland #joey king #anna camp #vhs #broke horror fan #dvd #gift #joe hill #greg nicotero #graham humphreys #devon whitehead #horror

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blogger360ncislarules · 2 months

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Beyond Paradise season two has an official release date – and it's soon.

The Death in Paradise spin-off will return to BBC One and BBC iPlayer for a second instalment on March 22, with six new episodes dropping weekly on Fridays at 8pm.

In addition to the release date news, the BBC shared first-look photos of the returning cast, plus details of the guest stars appearing in season two.

Kris Marshall will reprise his role as DI Humphrey Goodman with actress Sally Bretton returning as his fiancee Martha Lloyd and Zahra Ahmadi as Goodman's sidekick DS Esther Williams. Derry Girls' Dylan Llewellyn is also back as PC Kelby Hartford alongside Barbara Flynn (Anne Lloyd) and Felicity Montagu (Margo Martins).

Special guest stars set to appear in Shipton Abbott include All Creatures Great and Small star Peter Davison, Holby City actor Paul Bradley and Abi Clarke of The Emily Atack Show fame.

Bradley and Clarke are pictured in their roles alongside fellow guest star Ted Lasso's Peter Landi, Death in Paradise alumni Anna Crilly and Kris Marshall in a train carriage in one new teaser photo.

"Shipton Abbott continues to keep DI Humphrey Goodman and his team busy, with a baffling new crime each episode," reads the official season two synopsis. "From a death on a steam train to a missing teacher, the team have their work cut out. Even more so with Police HQ's threat of the local station house closure hanging over them – the pressure is on to get results.

"Meanwhile, Humphrey and Martha's journey to find their own version of a family continues as they explore the possibility of fostering. Martha's mother Anne throws herself into the world of online dating, and a well-meant gesture from Esther's daughter Zoe threatens to uncover a long-held secret."

Supporting cast members Jade Harison (CS Charlie Woods), Melina Sinadinou (Zoe), Eva Feiler (Lucy), Isaac Vincent-Norgate (Ryan) and Amalia Vitale (Hannah) are back – with Selwyn the Duck also confirmed for a screen return.

Beyond Paradise season 2 airs March 22 on BBC One and BBC iPlayer at 8pm.

#beyond paradise #death in paradise

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homomenhommes · 6 months

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THIS DAY IN GAY HISTORY

based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more …

1871 – Stephen Crane (d.1900) was an American author. Prolific throughout his short life, he wrote notable works in the Realist tradition as well as early examples of American Naturalism and Impressionism. He is recognized by modern critics as one of the most innovative writers of his generation.

The eighth surviving child of Methodist Protestant parents, Crane began writing at the age of four and had published several articles by the age of 16. Having little interest in university studies, he left school in 1891 to work as a reporter and writer. Crane's first novel was the 1893 Bowery tale Maggie: A Girl of the Streets, generally considered by critics to be the first work of American literary Naturalism. He won international acclaim in 1895 for his Civil War novel The Red Badge of Courage, which he wrote without any battle experience.

In 1896, Crane endured a highly publicized scandal after appearing as a witness in the trial of a suspected prostitute, an acquaintance named Dora Clark. Late that year he accepted an offer to travel to Cuba as a war correspondent. As he waited in Jacksonville, Florida, for passage, he met Cora Taylor, the madam of a brothel, with whom he began a lasting relationship. En route to Cuba, Crane's ship sank off the coast of Florida, leaving him and others adrift for several days in a dinghy. Crane described the ordeal in "The Open Boat". During the final years of his life, he covered conflicts in Greece and lived in England with Cora, where he befriended writers such as Joseph Conrad and H. G. Wells. Plagued by financial difficulties and ill health, Crane died of tuberculosis in a Black Forest sanatorium at the age of 28.

Obsessed with urban street life, Crane left behind an unpublished novel, Flowers of Asphalt, a realistic portrayal of a Gay male prostitute at the turn of the century. No one knows what became of the manuscript or who destroyed it. The reason why it disappeared is much more certain. The trial of Oscar Wilde, only five years before Crane's untimely death, drove the subject underground for more than a generation.

A 1951 film by the same name is seen as an allegory for a young Gay man's coming out, with the handsome (and usually shirtless) son getting ready to leave the house, despite the disapproving gaze of his mother and father. The film's title is taken from the name of a legendary lost manuscript by Crane, which dealt with the then-taboo subject of boy prostitution.

In 2007 Edmund White published the novel Hotel de Dream, based on the 40-page novella fragment about a boy prostitute as recalled in the memoirs of a Crane friend, James Gibbons Huneker.

1896 – Captain Napier Sturt, 3rd Baron Alington was a British peer, the son of Humphrey Sturt, 2nd Baron Alington.

He was born in November 1896 in St. Marylebone district of London. He succeeded to the Barony on 30 July 1919 on the death of his father. He owned the Crichel House estate in Dorset.

He married Lady Mary Sibell Ashley-Cooper, daughter of Anthony Ashley-Cooper, 9th Earl of Shaftesbury, on 27 November 1928. They had one child: Hon. Mary Anna Sibell Elizabeth Sturt who later fought the Government and won, leading to the resignation of a Minister, in the Crichel Down Affair.

Alington may well be most notable for having dated Tallulah Bankhead in the 1920s. Alington was described as "well cultivated, bisexual, with sensuous, meaty lips, a distant, antic charm, a history of mysterious disappearances, and a streak of cruelty." His bisexuality was well known. He was a friend of the Polish composer Karol Szymanowski who dedicated his highly sensuous Songs of an infatuated Muezzin Op.42 to the handsome young Englishman, on their publication in 1922.

He had no male heir upon his death, so the title became extinct. The Crichel estate passed to his 11-year-old daughter Mary, who later married Commander (George) Toby Marten.

In the First World War, he was a Captain in the Royal Air Force. In the Second World War, he was commissioned on 2 July 1940 as an officer of the Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve in the Administrative and Special Duties Branch and was posted to Cairo, possibly serving as a staff officer at HQ Middle East. He died on 16 September 1940 aged 43 in Cairo on active service of a short illness after pneumonia, and is buried in the New British Protestant Cemetery, Cairo, Egypt.

1937 – Dr. Tom Waddell (d.1987) was the gay American sportsman who founded the international sporting event called the Gay Games, which was named such after the United States Olympic Committee (USOC) sued Dr. Waddell for using the word "Olympic" in the original name "Gay Olympics". The Gay Games are held every four years. The first was in San Francisco in 1982.

Waddell was born Thomas Flubacher on November 1, 1937 in Paterson, New Jersey to a Catholic family. Aware of his homosexual feelings in high school, he excelled in athletics as a means to compensate for them. His parents separated while he was in his teens, and at the age of fifteen he went to live with Gene and Hazel Waddell, for whom he did chores; they adopted him six years later. The Waddells were former vaudeville acrobats and encouraged Tom to take up gymnastics.

In the summer of 1959, he worked at a children's camp in western Massachusetts, where he met his first lover, socialist Enge Menaker, then a 63-year-old man. The men remained close for the rest of Menaker's life, which ended in 1985 when he was ninety years old.

Tom was a football player and gymnast when he was in college at Springfield College, Massachusetts. He served as a military doctor afterward. He represented USA in decathlon at the 1968 Summer Olympics, in which he placed sixth.

In his medical career, he received his MD from Stanford University Medical School. During his life, Waddell had done research on viruses, as well as served the Saudi Royal family. This was followed by moving back to San Francisco where he established his private practice on 18th Street in the Castro neighborhood. He later was employed at a city clinic in the Civic Center area of San Francisco which to this day carries his name.

Waddell happened to attend a Bay Area gay bowling competition, which inspired him to consider organizing a gay sports event modeled on the Olympics. He took up the cause of the "Gay Olympics" by traveling across the country to drum up support. The first Gay Olympics was to take place in San Francisco in 1982 in the form of a sports competition and arts festival, but the U.S. Olympic Committee (U.S.O.C.) sued Waddell's organization over its use of the word "Olympic." Despite the fact that the U.S.O.C. had not previously protested when other groups had used the name, they alleged that allowing a "Gay Olympics" would injure them. They succeeded in securing an injunction just nineteen days before the first games were to begin. Nevertheless, the games, now re-christened the Gay Games, went forward and were a great success, perhaps because they emphasized sportsmanship, personal achievement, and inclusiveness to a far greater degree than the Olympics.

Waddell had a daughter in 1983, Jessica Waddell Lewinstein, with lesbian activist Sara Lewinstein, whom he had met while founding The Games. He died from AIDS in 1987. His battle against HIV/AIDS is one of the subjects of the award-winning documentary Common Threads: Stories from the Quilt.

Waddell wrote an autobiography titled Gay Olympian with sports writer Dick Schaap.

1960 – Tim Cook is an entrepreneur and the CEO of Apple, one of the world's most valuable companies. In 2011, Steve Jobs handpicked Cook as his successor.

Cook was born in Robertsdale, Alabama.

Before joining Apple, Cook managed manufacturing and distribution as director of North American fulfillment for IBM. He also served as chief operating officer at Intelligent Electronics and as as vice president of corporate materials at the Compaq Computer Corporation.

In 1997, Apple reported a loss of a billion dollars and was expected to declare bankruptcy. In 1998, Steve Jobs convinced Cook to accept the position of chief operating officer, despite Cook's reservations. Within a year, Apple reported a profit.

In 2011, Cook became Apple's CEO and a member of the board of directors. He is one of the highest-paid CEOs. He ranked No. 1 on Out magazine's "Power 50" list of the most influential LGBT people in the United States. Forbes magazine named him one of the "World's Most Powerful People."

Cook has kept his personal life private, but has appeared at the top of Out Magazines Power 50 List for 3 years in a row. The closest he had come to publicly acknowledging his homosexuality was in a 2014 speech:

"Since these early days, I have seen and have experienced many types of discrimination and all of them were rooted in the fear of people that were different than the majority."

But on October 30th 2014, two days before his 54th birthday, Cook announced in a interview with Bloomberg Businessweek:

"While I have never denied my sexuality, I haven’t publicly acknowledged it either, until now. So let me be clear: I’m proud to be gay, and I consider being gay among the greatest gifts God has given me."

He also challenged his home state of Alabama to ensure the rights of gay and transgender people.

1971 – The Body Politic begins publishing. The Body Politic was a Canadian monthly magazine, which was published from 1971 to 1987. It was one of Canada's first significant gay publications, and played a prominent role in the development of the LGBT community in Canada.

The magazine was first published on November 1, 1971 by an informal collective, operating out of the home of Glad Day Bookshop owner Jearld Moldenhauer. The collective was incorporated as Pink Triangle Press in 1975.

Writers associated with the magazine included Gerald Hannon, Stan Persky, John Greyson, David Rayside, Sue Golding, Richard Summerbell and Gary Kinsman.

The Body Politic was twice charged with publishing obscene material, in 1977 for Hannon's article "Men Loving Boys Loving Men", and in 1982 for "Lust with a Very Proper Stranger", an article on fisting. The magazine was acquitted in both trials. Materials seized by police in the Hannon trial were not returned to the magazine until 1985.

The magazine ceased publication in 1987, following PTP's launch of the tabloid Xtra! in 1984. In 2008, it was ranked as the 17th most influential magazine in Canadian publishing history by Masthead, the trade magazine of the Canadian magazine publishing industry.

The magazine also created the Canadian Lesbian and Gay Archives in 1973.

1981 – Pierre Fitch, né Viverais, born in Cornwall, Ontario, is a Canadian gay pornography actor, formerly exclusive to Falcon Studios. Although Christian name is Pierre, he admitted that he loved the fashion line Abercrombie & Fitch and so took the surname. He is also an entrepreneur, who now works for himself as an actor and producer of video productions. He is currently performing as a DJ, presenting his own mixes through a number of night clubs in Canada, The United States and Latin America.

His online presence includes his private membership site that includes his almost daily updated blog. He has numerous fan-sites such as the 2008 launched Pierre Fitch Galleries.

Fitch was nominated for the 2006 Best Actor GayVN Award and, with Tom Judson (credited as Gus Mattox), for Best Sex Scene (Duo). He did not win either award, being beaten twice by Johnny Hazzard. Fitch has tattoos all over his body including his neck, chest, stomach, arms and legs.

Fitch is considered "versatile," though more often than not he is seen as the "bottom" (receiver) in scenes featuring anal intercourse. Fitch started off in the industry as a "twink" (younger looking boy), but has now fully grown into a more jock look.

He was previously in a relationship with Ralph Woods. They were reputedly married. In the fall of 2008, Fitch revealed that his marriage to Ralph Woods was never official or legal, but it was a marketing strategy.

2008 – Pin-Ups, by Maurice Vellekoop, a coffee table book of gay erotic cartoon art, is first published.

Maurice Vellekoop (born 1964) is a Canadian artist and illustrator. His work has appeared in publications such as Drawn & Quarterly, Time, GQ, Vogue, Cosmopolitan and Wallpaper, as well as in the books ABC Book: A Homoerotic Primer, Sex Tips from a Dominatrix, Mensroom Reader and Vellevision.

Vellekoop attended the Ontario College of Art and Design from 1982 to 1986. He is openly gay.

His autobiographical I’m So Glad We Had This Time Together is a comic and compassionate late-bloomer’s coming-of-age story that deals with his fraught relationship with his staunchly Calvinist Dutch immigrant parents.

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