#gotta suck being a defense attorney

[beardedmrbean]

NEW BOSTON, Texas (AP) — A Texas jury sentenced a woman to death Wednesday for killing a pregnant woman she knew to take her unborn daughter.

Jurors returned with the sentence for Taylor Parker, 29, after deliberating for just over an hour, the Texarkana Gazette reported. The same Bowie County jury convicted Parker on Oct. 3 of capital murder in the 2020 slaying of 21-year-old Reagan Simmons-Hancock, whose baby was cut from her womb and did not survive.

In a statement to the court, Simmons-Hancock’s mother addressed Parker as an “evil piece of flesh demon.”

“My baby was alive still fighting for her babies when you tore her open and ripped her baby from her stomach,” Jessica Brooks said.

Simmons-Hancock’s body was found Oct. 9, 2020, at her home in New Boston, a city of about 4,600 people that's 160 miles (258 kilometers) northeast of Dallas. Her 3-year-old daughter was at home when her mother was killed.

Later that morning, Parker claimed she’d just given birth after being pulled over by a state trooper for speeding and driving erratically. The baby, Braxlynn Sage Hancock, was taken to a hospital in Oklahoma, where she was pronounced dead.

Prosecutors have said that in an attempt to keep her boyfriend, Parker made herself look pregnant, faked ultrasounds and even had a gender-reveal party.

Homer Hancock, Simmons-Hancock’s husband, testified that Parker and his wife were “somewhat friends,” and that Parker had taken their engagement and wedding photos.

In closing statements, prosecutor Kelley Crisp showed jurors a crime scene photo of Simmons-Hancock soaked in blood on the floor. She told jurors that Parker needed to be sentenced to death because she's a danger. She said that in addition to having her baby ripped from her womb, Simmons-Hancock was “slashed” hundreds of times and beaten.

Parker's attorney, Jeff Harrelson, told jurors in closing statements that “words can be used to dehumanize," and said that there are “layers” and “shades of gray” to people’s lives.

“She is a human,” he said.

Harrelson also said Parker was let down by her friends and family, who didn't confront her about the fake pregnancy.

“There was no safety net when everyone saw the wheels were off," he said.

#nunyas news #gotta suck being a defense attorney #for something like this #wonder if they'll actually carry out the sentence

[thatesqcrush]

Retrouvaille

Rafael Barba x Reader. For @barbasimp - winner of Holiday Bingo. Prompt: Maybe a fic where Rafael and the reader were a thing before he left new york after the incident, but when he comes back he sees how close Carisi and the reader are and gets HELLA JEALOUS.

AN: This takes immediately during 22x04, “Sightless in a Savage Land.”  Script found here.  Coffee reference (above and in the fic - from 19x9, Gone Baby Gone.

AN2: Using “Sway” by The Kooks for VDay bingo. Lyrics denoted in bold.

AN3: Retrouvaille is a French word meaning rediscovery - the happiness of meeting or finding someone after a long separation. 

Warnings: language & smut (p in v sex, implied cunnilingus).  WC: 3.3K

****

To say you were anxious was an understatement; your leg bounced restlessly as you and your Captain sat in the diner. It had been unbearably cold and despite still wearing your parka and the hot cup of coffee in front of you, you could not warm up.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Olivia replied as she poured some milk into her coffee. She stirred the coffee with one hand and reached out to grab your hand from across with the other. “You don’t have to be here.”

“Nope, I am good.” You replied coolly, your lips emphasizing the ‘p’ sound. You looked out the window, watching the people mill about on the street. A blast of cold breezed through the diner. You looked past Olivia and you felt your stomach flop at the sight of the man approaching the booth. You stood and switched sides of your seat, choosing to sit next to Olivia.

The last time you saw Rafael Barba, he was worn and depressed, with tears lining his eyes as he stood in front of the courthouse. It was there he poured his love for you making your heart swell before he shattered it into a million pieces as he broke things off with you. You were a wreck after, to the point you needed to take time off to get your affairs back in order. The apartment you shared with him was no longer your safe space  and no longer inhabitable. Rafael told you to keep the engagement ring. You took it off that night and left it in a lock box at your bank. Photos of you and him during happier times were taken down from your locker and tossed in the trash. Plans for the future - for a shared life together were gone, like a sandcastle being washed away by the sea.

Now Rafael appeared just as handsome as he did all those years ago. His hair was a more pronounced shade of salt and pepper and instead of being clean shaven, a beard graced his face. The infamous camel pea coat was swapped out for a grey one. Instead of a three piece bespoke suit under it, he wore dark jeans and a blue and pink checkered shirt. He turned to the counter and requested a coffee before he sat down in front of you. 

“Barba.” You greeted, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Olivia!” Rafael replied brightly. He shrugged his coat off and looked at you. “Y/N, it’s good to see you again.”

You didn’t reply, instead choosing to sip your coffee once more. Rafael shifted in his seat and looked at Olivia. “So--”

“Liv’s said you’ve been busy.” You spoke, cutting him off. “What have you been up to?” 

You knew Rafael had kept in touch with Olivia. She had mentioned Rafael here and there in conversation with you and the squad.

You knew Mickey Davis deserved a good defense. You were, however, caught off guard when Olivia suggested that perhaps Rafael could help secure a deal. You didn’t even know he was back in New York.

“Consulting with the Innocence Project, defending voting rights on the ground. I've barely slept since the election ended.”

“Liv said once everything cleared up, you might consider doing defense work.” You continued. 

“Her case or Fin’s?” Barba asked. 

“The city settled one of Fin’s. Liv's still waiting on her day in the barrel, but that's not why we're here. 

“It should be -- sorry.” Rafael shrugged, looking at Olivia. 

Olivia gave Rafael a small smile. “Hypothetically, if we... arrested a defendant who was not innocent…”

“Decorated vet. Six tours in Afghanistan. Comes home to find his daughter raped by her foster father--” You interjected. 

“And he shoots the guy point-blank range three times?” Rafael questioned. Both you and Olivia give him a pointed look. “Hypothetically.”

“So you're all caught up.” Olivia replied, now picking up her own cup.

“All right, hold on.” Rafael shook his head. “Did Carisi ask you to intervene on Davis' behalf?”

“Well, actually, Carisi doesn't know that we're here.” You murmured.

Rafael laughed. “Of course not. Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“We wanted to see if you would feel him out. And see if he would cut Mickey a deal.” Olivia continued.

“With Carisi's stomach? He won't have the stomach to take this to trial.” Rafael rolled his eyes. “This case is a dog.”

“Really? Some mentor you are. Not even believing in your protege.” You sneered.

Rafael cocked a brow at you while Liv put a hand on your shoulder, in an attempt to comfort you. You jerked your shoulder away from her, and stood. You tossed some bills onto the table. 

“Sorry, Liv. I thought I could handle this. But I can’t. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You heard Liv call out your name as you stormed out of the diner, but not once did you look back.

Rafael looked at Liv, a frown on his face. “Honestly, I am surprised she didn’t leave sooner.” 

***

You and Phoebe were watching through the double-mirror in the squadroom as Kat and Rollins interrogated a suspect. Phoebe watched as Carisi approached you and she tapped your shoulder, nodding towards him. 

You looked over at Carisi and smiled. “How did voire dire go?”

Carisi sighed, crossing his arms. “It was the Rafael Barba show, charming and cherry-picking jurors for twelve straight hours.”

“He was always a dog with a bone.” You replied. “Walk with me to my desk. I am gonna order some Chinese.”

“I gotta know, Y/N. I saw Barba’s witness list, and he tracked down Ajay's other foster kids, ACS employees, VA shrinks. How big of a staff does he have?”

“I can’t say but know that I am not helping him out.” You hissed in a whisper.

Carisi huffed. “It's fine. Barba was here before me. He was your--”

You held up a hand. “No! That doesn't mean I'm more loyal to him than I am to you. You forget - he broke up with me. He wanted nothing to do with me. Why should I help him?”

Carisi’s ears turned pink and when saw the broken look on your face, he felt shitty. “Y/N, I am so sorry.”

You shook your head. “Dinners on you Mr. ADA and all will be forgiven.”

***

When Rafael entered the squadroom, it was late - he did not expect to see you. But there you were, Carisi perched on the corner of your desk, laughing. Seeing you and Carisi together like that - his jealousy flared and he wondered if there was something more than friendship going on. You plucked food out of the takeout container and offered Carisi a bite. You grabbed a napkin and reached up to Carisi’s face and you were about to say something when you spotted Rafael. Your laughter subsided and you smacked Carisi on the knee and pointed to Rafael. As he made way to your desk, you murmured something to Carisi and made a beeline to the locker room, dropping your food on your desk, causing it to spill a bit. The chopsticks fell to the ground with a clatter.

Rafael paused mid-stride and turned to follow, when Carisi approached him and blocked his path. “Barba, I don’t know why you’re here, but leave Y/N alone.”

“Is there a problem Carisi?”

Carisi jutted his jaw, clearly displeased. “Just leave Y/N alone - you hurt her. I know you never meant to. Don’t make it worse.”

“I came here to talk to her. That’s all.” Rafael huffed, before pushing past the young attorney to follow you, much to Carisi’s protests. 

**

You sat on the bench in front of your locker, crying. You dropped your head in your hands, your body shaking. You heard the sound of footsteps and you stood up, wiping your eyes. 

“Y/N.” Rafael’s voice was dark and deep, and hearing your name escape his lips sent shivers down your spine.

“Rafael! What are you doing here? Y’know you’re really not supposed to be back here!” You hissed, dabbing your eyes once more with your sleeves. 

“I wanted to check in with you.”

“Why? You’re not my boyfriend anymore.” You replied, as you grabbed your belongings. You slammed your locker shut, the metal clanging sound echoed. 

There was another sound of footsteps. Now it was Carisi who arrived. “Y/N, you okay?”

You looked at Carisi. ‘I’m fine. I’ll be out in just a bit.” Carisi nodded and made his way back out. 

You adjusted the strap of your bag. “Move.”

“No, I’m not your boyfriend anymore.” Rafael agreed, but not moving. You stepped to the side and Rafael followed your movement, blocking your way.

“Move.” You commanded. “Now.”

When he did not budge, you let out an exasperated sigh. “Say whatever you have to say. Get it out.”

“I just wanted to say I am sorry for everything. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Rafael replied.

“Suddenly you care? Please, I have plenty of people in my life who have taken an active role in that. I have gotten by just fine since you left.”

“Who? Carisi? Trading in one lawyer for another? You got a kink or something?" Rafael replied haughtily. 

You snorted in derision. “You know what, you can go fuck right off.” You pushed past him and Rafael grabbed your wrist and pulled you flush to him. Rafael met your eyes, they were puffy and red from you crying. 

“What are you--” You began, but Rafael crushed his lips against yours. You were initially stiff, but you relaxed into his embrace, allowing for the kiss to happen. You let out a soft moan and Rafael used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, by sliding his tongue into yours. Rafael wrapped his arms around your waist and you wrapped yours around his neck, dropping your purse to the ground.

“I love ya.” Rafael rumbled into your ear before dipping his head to your neckline, sucking a mark that you knew you would not be able to hide.

At his words, you pushed Rafael away. “What the fuck? You can’t just barge back into New York, into my life, say that you still love me and expect me to forgive you on the spot!” You were angry, there was a fire in your eyes that Rafael had been at the end of before, and he dropped his head, shamed. He took a seat on the bench and you followed suit, sitting next to him. “Me, the squad… that was always your M.O. - take whatever you want to take - to hurt the ones you love. You never thought about the consequences of your actions on others - nevermind baby Drew.”

“I know. I am an asshole.  I know this is the wrong time and the wrong place but I had to tell you. I love you. And I regret the way I left things with you. And if you tell me you don’t love me - that you still don’t feel the same way - I’ll leave. After the case - you’ll never hear from me or see me again.”

Deep down you knew you still loved Rafael. You had always loved him. You didn’t initially understand why he did what he did with baby Drew or why he left, but with therapy, time, and deep talks with Liv, you understood. It didn’t mean you weren’t angry - you were - but you could see why Rafael felt he had no choice but to leave.

“I need your heart. I need your soul. And getting over you was the hardest thing that I’ve ever had to do.” You replied, not answering his question. Your breath was still uneven from the tears you shed. You were worn and all you wanted to do was go home. You stood and slung your purse over your shoulder. “I am going home. Figure your shit out but don’t expect me to wait around.”

Carisi watched as you stormed away, with Rafael trailing behind you. He was going to say something but he noticed how Rafael allowed for the space between you and him to grow. 

***

The following morning you were getting ready for the day as usual. Coffee was brewing, music was blasting, you were digging around for some clean clothes. There was a staccato knock on the door. You ignored it and found a shirt from the pile of clothes and sniffed it.

There was a second knock, this time louder than first. “I am coming!” You shouted as you tugged your shirt on. You huffed as you marched to the door before tripping over a stack of books that you were planning on donating to your neighborhood library.

You swore loudly and hobbled over to the door. Swinging it open, you all but shouted, “What do you wa--”

On the other side was Rafael. Holding a tray of coffee and a paper bag, that you presumed were some kind of sweets. “I know I am the last person you want to see. I don’t know what to do. Um… do you want some coffee?”

You wrinkled your nose, but you took a step forward and plucked the pastry bag from his grasp. You opened it and inhaled the fresh pastries; your stomach rumbled in response. You reached in and grabbed a honeybun. 

“Come in.” You waved him in before taking a bite of the sticky pastry. Sorry it’s not more neat.”

Rafael made his way in. You entered your apartment, turning the lights on as you made your way in. 

“It’s fine.” Rafael replied as he took in your new-to-him space. There were elements that reminded him of your time together, but it was more uniquely you than anything else.

“You said something yesterday that has stayed in my mind all night long.” Rafael sat down on your couch. 

“Yeah? And what’s that?” You asked, taking a seat across from him. You reached over and plucked the two coffees from 

“I need your heart. I need your soul. All this time away from you has made me realize that. I am sorry for hurting you - for even breaking things off the way I did.” He confessed. “But then I realized, I couldn’t do it. All this time… I still love you.”

You didn’t respond and Rafael felt his heart sink. His stomach knotted and he thought he would throw up. 

You were quiet when you finally did speak. “I still love you too.”

Rafael looked at you, a huge grin on his face. He was overjoyed to hear your proclamation. “So now what?”

You furrowed your brows and an idea came to you, your face brightening. “I suppose we’re due for some makeup sex.”

Rafael blinked. “What?”

You stood up and tugged off your top. “Look, I don’t know about you - but it’s been awhile and I have needs. Are you complaining?”

Rafael stood, shrugging off his coat and also making quick removal of his clothes. “No, not at all. Just not what I expected to happen.”

You were down to your panties. “Just gotta make one call.” Rafael nodded, continuing to undress. You grabbed your phone and called Liv. “Hey, Liv - personal emergency, I won’t be able to make it - no everything will be fine - no you don’t need to come by. I’ll make it up. Thanks.”

You tossed your phone onto the couch and stretched out your hand. “Come on.”

**

Rafael groaned as he pounded into you with punctuated thrusts. You grabbed the sheets desperately as pleasure coursed your body. Being reunited with Rafael was almost too much - no one ever fucked you as well as he did - and no one ever made you feel complete as he did. Rafael pushed your knee higher, changing the angle. His cock hit you at a new angle and you cried out.

“Oh fuck, fuck, yes, just like that!” Your back arched slightly. He dropped his mouth to yours, swallowing your moans as he slid his tongue into yours. Rafael quickened his pace and you snaked your hand between your bodies to rub your clit. 

“Gonna… fuck… gonna come…” Rafael groaned. 

“Come for me, give it to me.” You panted. “Need it. Need you.”

Rafael stiffened, groaning your name as he came, filling the condom you insisted he wear for the time being. You continued to rub with one hand as your orgasm approached, you used your other hand to grip his arm tightly. You threw your head back as you cried out Rafael’s name as your orgasm peaked and washed over you. 

Rafael pressed a kiss to the top of your forehead as your body grew slack. He removed himself and rolled his body off yours. He removed the condom, tying it in a knot before disposing it into the trash bin at the foot of your bed. Rafael rejoined you in the bed and you curled into his embrace.

You stroked his chest softly, running the tips of your fingers through his chest hair. “We have a lot to work on.”

Rafael grabbed your hand and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “I know, hermosa.”

You looked up at him. “For us to work - it’s going to take time. We have a lot to work on - a lot to unpack.”

“As long as it takes. I don’t want to lose you again.”

You propped yourself up and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Well, since we have so much time ahead of us now… why don’t we make up for lost time?” 

Rafael arched his brow and you squealed as he pulled you up on top of him.He kissed you deeply and rolled you onto your back once more. He began to press kisses along your body, shimmying down. 

He got to the apex of your thighs and spread your legs. You met his eyes and he winked before dropping his mouth to you again.

FIN.

***

Tags: @mgarner1227   @madpanda75  @tropes-and-tales @dreamlover31 @beardedmccoy @youreverycolor @neely1177 @witches-unruly-heart @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @ottosuricato @sass-and-suspenders @mommakat32 @dreila03  @beccabarba @garturbo @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo @imjustreallynosy @sweetsummertime99 @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @annabelleb49 @scarletsoldierrr @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandplaid @redlipstickandblacktea @zoeykaytesmom @differentshadesofgray @misssirenlove @esparza-army @bananas-pajamas @mishaissocoolike @thefanficfaerie @theenchantedgalleryofstories @catnip987 @choppedgalaxynerd @pieceofshittytitty @ktiz90 @evee87 @itsjustmyfantasyroom @detective-giggles @rampantmuses @jazzyjoi @stormtrooperofficerbrowneyes @rachelxwayne @prurientpuddlejumper @lv7867 @permanentlydizzy @bisexual-dreamer02 @madamsnape921 @averyhotchner​ @teamsladsandgents @qvid-pro-qvo @alwaysachorusgirl @amelia-song-pond @wanniiieeee  @tintinxtintin @law-nerd105 

#rafael barba smut #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba and reader #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x you #thatesqcrushvdaybingo

[petri808]

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33-Epilogue

~~Day 2 of Lucy’s testimony

“Ms. Heartfilia, on the night of the kidnapping please start from the moment you got off the train and were walking back towards your apartment building.”

“O-Okay.” Lucy closed her eyes as she took a deep breath. ‘Just tell the truth, let the prosecutor direct her answers...’ She opened her eyes as she began. “We had a system in place, so whenever I was out alone, I would stay on the phone with someone. That night, Natsu was on the other end. He talked and kept me company. I was maybe halfway to the apartment building when I heard something behind me, but before I could turn to see what it was, I felt a hand wrap around my face and a cloth placed over my mouth. I-I screamed, and I heard Touka’s voice, and Natsu screaming over the phone but everything went black as I passed out. It happened really fast.”

“What was the next thing you remember?”

“I woke up in an apartment that I didn’t recognize. I remember being dizzy, my head hurt, and my eyes were all blurry. My... m-my hands and feet were tied up, and I was lying on my side on the floor.” Lucy stopped again to take another deep breath before continuing. “That’s when I heard noises like drawers opening and closing. I couldn’t see where it was coming from at first, but I guess my mind told me it must be Touka. So, my survival instincts kicked in at that moment. I stayed still, pretending to be asleep, but I cracked my eyes open to see what I could.”

“And what could you see?”

“I s-saw, like a couch, and a wall, and it was covered with photographs of Natsu— just completely covered. And I could see there was all kinds of them, close ups, far shots, old stuff, new ones, clippings... but they weren’t just Natsu. I could see a lot of me and our friends too, and that really creeped me out cause I knew she was watching us, but just, you know, to see it— that was really hard. I tried so hard to stay focused on what was happening. I just kept thinking, I’ve gotta find a way out of there.”

Lucy took the jury through that night, step, by step just as she’d been coached by the prosecutor. The closer she got to the main event, the slower she moved through each detail. They covered all the visuals she saw from her vantage point, inching their way to the moment Touka had begun her physical assault. Lucy’s hands sat in her lap, but they constantly opened and closed into fists to disburse the building anxieties in a physical way. It was a technique her therapist had shown her specifically to use during the trial. Thank goodness for all the preparations by her therapist, because recalling these memories were to re-live them and that was all extremely difficult.

“You testified that Ms. Shiromajyo did not know you were already awake. So, how did she wake you up?”

Lucy took a deep breath knowing this was the hardest part, but the prosecutor needed her to tell the tale. “She kicked me really hard in the back which made me roll over to try and defend, but before I could she stomped me in the stomach, and just kept kicking me over and over...” Lucy’s body trembled as she relieved the event in her mind. “I-I couldn’t do much because I was tied up tightly, so I kept rolling to the side and curling up in a ball. I didn’t wanna scream, because... b-because I thought that’s what she wanted to hear, and I wasn’t gonna give her that satisfaction. But I think it only made her angrier.”

“Was she saying anything through this attack?”

“Y-Yes...” Lucy’s voice cracked. “S-She was calling me a slut and a bitch and blamed me for the pain she was feeling. Said if only I’d walked away like she’d warned me to, I wouldn’t be in this situation. So, I snapped back that hurting me wouldn’t make Natsu love her. That killing me...” Lucy sucked in a breath, “wasn’t worth going to jail over. I thought— that maybe if I try to reason with her, get her to see this wouldn’t change anything, she’d stop, but— it didn’t faze her.” Lucy shivered at how cold Touka’s eyes had been at the moment. “She said, “if I can’t have him, neither will you.” That, “don’t you think I know that?” But she didn’t care. This woman was going to kill me, and she said it with a straight face. That’s when I knew she was serious, and I started preparing myself to die.”

Eventually, Lucy couldn’t even look in Natsu’s direction. She could see the utter turmoil on his face, and it only added to her anxiety. So, instead, she looked at the jury members themselves. That was another tactic the prosecutor instructed Lucy to do. ‘Talk to them,’ he’d explained. ‘Think of this as your opportunity to tell your story. Let them see all the emotions you were feeling then, or feeling now, because they need to know how much Touka’s actions have affected you.’ So, that’s what Lucy did her best to do, scanning just above their heads. She still couldn’t make eye contact because just like Natsu, listening to her story brought a lot of pain to many of their faces.

With tears trickling down, Lucy continued giving a blow by blow account leading up to Natsu’s arrival, and what happened before the authorities arrived. How she got the cut on her neck and other injuries, and how they were fighting against Touka as hard as they could. Tears trickled slowly down her cheeks as she spoke, but she didn’t stop talking. She told them how Natsu begged Touka to leave her alone, even willing to give up his life for it, but once Natsu admitted that he loved her, that really set Touka off. “That— T-That not how I wanted to find out he loved me!” Lucy screamed through the tears. “That’s not how anyone should find that out! And she took that beautiful thing away from me!” Lucy slumped in her chair, trying to stop the heavy sobs wracking her body. Saying it out loud, the anger was seething inside of her because she hadn’t expected to have this reaction. Maybe she’d buried it for far too long?

“Ms. Heartfilia, do you need a break?”

“N-No,” she wiped away the sloppy tears. “I can finish this. I-I need to keep going.”

“Take a moment to compose yourself,” the judge explained, “then continue.”

Lucy nodded to the judge in acknowledgment, then after a long deep exhale, continued to tell the jury how she’d watched as Natsu defended her and what was going through her mind as she saw him stabbed. “All the blood...” she whimpered, fighting the urge to bawl again. “There was so much blood from Natsu’s injuries. I started freaking out because I didn’t wanna die and I didn’t wanna watch my boyfriend killed! So, I-I grabbed the closest object which was a hardcover book— her school yearbook and just started swinging as hard as I could despite my wrists being tied. I was just running on adrenaline at the point knowing it had to be either her or us, and I’m sorry, but I did not want to die.”

At that stage of the testimony, Lucy took the jury through the police’s arrival from her perspective. What she’d observed, and how they finished subduing Touka. “Once they took her into custody, I think I was just in shock. Frankly, I don’t even know how I managed to stay focused through the whole ordeal, I just remember thinking if this woman was gonna kill me, I’d make it as difficult as possible.” Finally, Lucy covered the timeline for the jury between the scene and going to the hospital for treatment, including the panic attack and his she had to be sedated.

“And how has this affected you since the incident?”

“Objection! Leading! This has no relevance to the case!” The defense attorney argued to the judge. “The witnesses state of mind after the fact could be contributed to multiple factors and there’s no way to attribute it solely to my client or the events revolves around my client.”

The prosecutor countered, arguing that Lucy’s continued reactions to the events over the ensuing months was relevant to the case.

But the judge only ruled partially in the States favor. “Re-word you question counselor to the event itself.”

“Ms. Heartfilia, please provide any specific factors you’ve suffered relating to your experiences with Ms. Shiromajyo.”

“W-Well, my panic attacks and nightmares are because of what happened. I keep seeing and reliving things like a movie replaying in my mind. Especially the attack, I literally wake up screaming because of bloody dreams, and this causes me problems, like I don’t get enough sleep, I couldn’t focus on school. Just the fear of leaving my apartment has kept me from doing anything really for months. I’m scared of being kidnapped, even though logically I know Touka is in jail, it doesn’t just make those feelings go away. I wish it did— Heaven help me, I wish it would just go away, but it doesn’t.”

“So, you still fear Ms. Shiromajyo?”

Lucy stiffened and nodded her head vehemently as she shrunk down in the chair. “Yes.”

“Thank you, no further questions at this time. We reserve the right to recall the witness.”

“Cross?” The judge asked the defense, to which they also responded with reserve the right to recall. “Then Ms. Heartfilia, you may leave the stand, but be available in case of being recalled.”

Lucy nodded quietly at the judge, then slipped out of the courtroom. The bailiff lead her to a back room, along with her therapist so she couldn’t hear what was going on. Once in the safety of the room, she broke down. All the emotions she’d tampered down to get through the testimony, rushed out. She’d shed tears during her testimony, but now she was free to sob openly.

“You did great,” the therapist cooed, soothing the young woman. She tightened her hug, “that’s good, just let it all out.”

A knock at the door came, as Natsu and Levy were allowed inside. Natsu immediately went to his girlfriend and took over for the therapist. “Shh,” he spoke softly and smoothed his hand against her hair. “You did amazing babe!”

“Lu, you did great up there! We’re really proud of you!”

“Thanks, guys,” Lucy sniffled into Natsu’s chest. She was proud of getting through it without having a break down, but the nagging knowledge of this wasn’t over yet, still loomed large. The defense was surely going to recall her at some stage, and even if the attorney didn’t, the prosecutor could, plus just the waiting sucked! “Can we please go home? I-I just wanna go home.”

#nalu #nalu fan fic #nalu fanfiction #nalu au #Natsu dragneel #Lucy heartfilia #Natsu x lucy #angst #nalu fan fiction #strangers on a train #ch 29

[wherearemyglassesbro]

Your brain....fantastic 👀 @heyheyjay

The lawyers losing a trial they’re attached to

Prosecutor Bonnefoy: The first time he was trusted with a murder case, the prosecutors office had sent a ‘babysitter’ to go sit in the crowd to keep an eye on him. He did so good the entire time! He talked passionately, he was beyond prepared, he appealed to the jury....But the defense just did a better job. And he just couldn’t get over it. He couldn’t compute it. He did everything right? Why didn’t he win? Why was this murderer getting to walk away?? And before he could even object, his ‘babysitter’ aka Roderich, grabbed his arm and led him out of the courtroom “I don’t get it- I- I did everything- It isnt-“ “Breathe, Bonnefoy. It’s alright” “It is NOT-“ “Lower your voice. I understand that this is difficult for you but you must know that not every trial will end in your favor. You did everything you could but this was the outcome. It was a fair trial” Rod stayed with him until he composed himself and then excused him for the rest of the day. Fran is still not always trusted with murder cases just cause they’re so personal to him but he does get some on occasion. And if he loses them? You can just see him deflate and the mask of confidence fade away. He hates when the defense sees him like that so he just leaves the courtroom

Prosecutor Edelstein: Roderich does his best to stay emotionally detached as possible when he can. But when he first started out, he’d get involved with family issues very easily and allow himself to be sucked into it all which really came back to bite him in the ass later on. Trials with families on both sides (family member on family member crimes) still get to him even though he’s a senior prosecutor now and doesn’t take small cases anymore. His own family was technically perfect and rich but he is a very emotional guy behind his mask of professionalism. His heart aches for those broken families and to be honest, even if he wins he feels bad because no matter the outcome, the family is still broken. If he loses, he stays professional until he gets home. Then he can just curl up with his wife on the couch and have a pity party for himself. Then the next day, he picks himself back up, brushes those negative emotions off and bottles them up for later

Prosecutor Braginskya: Nat gets attached to cases where women are victims because she...just hurts for them. And if she loses the trial, whoever committed the crime against that woman is free to go and she feels like the biggest failure on the planet. She already cant handle losing cases to begin with but losing cases like these?? It hurts...a lot. She’ll go apologize to the victim and then go sit in the stairwell away from everyone for awhile :( then she’ll ask Ivan if she can come over cause he just...always knows what to say to make her feel better

Prosecutor Braginsky: Ivan is a huge softie for kids so when cases involve kids, he’ll become emotionally invested for sure. He’ll debate until he’s blue in the face if he has to, he wants that criminal in jail. Crimes against children are unforgivable. So if he loses a case like that??? It feels like he got kicked in the lungs. He stays in the courtroom until everyone is excused and apologizes to his client. He’ll take a shower when he gets home just to stand under the water and replay the trial over and over in his head, mentally kicking himself for making mistakes. The next day, he’ll stop by a store before work and pick out a stuffed animal for the kid and cookies or something to mail them

Defense attorney Kirkland: Arthur is another softie for kids so he gets very involved with casss that involve children. He’ll pull all nighters preparing for the trial and drink way too much tea just cause he keeps nervously brewing it like stop dude!! He always straightens up in court though and is super prepared! But if he loses he’ll start visibly stress sweating and feel a tad nauseous. He feels like a total idiot and just wants to go flush himself down the toilet to hide in the sewers. He hates that feeling more than anything....The feeling of letting down a child who needed him to defend their guardian. And he couldnt.

Defense attorney Jones: Alfred prefers taking on smaller cases because he can form connections with the community and have his name become a trusted one. When working with the community and average, every day people, he forms connections with them. He learns all about these people especially if he’s taking to old people! Old people love him! With small cases, he’s usually dealing with felonies, jail time, fines, maybe prison time, small stuff! But losing small trials makes him feel like a major idiot. Why couldn’t he win that? It was supposed to be an in-and-out kinda thing! He feels bad every time he loses...Especially when old folks are involved. It’s hard enough being old, now they gotta pay wrongful parking tickets or deal with purse robbers? Damn...

Defense attorney Hedervary: Eliza prefers taking on big cases rather than small ones. She no longer needs to get her name out there cause her name is on the building she works in but taking on big cases makes her feel like she’s really helping :) but with big cases comes a lot of pressure and preparation. She has to spend a lot of time with families and victims and even though her mentor always told her that she should never get TOO involved, she just can’t help it sometimes. So when she loses, it’s a huuuge blow. She’ll replay the whole trial in her head all day long. What could I have done better? Did I not present this well enough? Should I have objected more? Should I have talked less? She just wants to go home and collapse in her husbands arms :( he gives really good hugs. The next day she’ll write a super long apology to client. It isn’t necessary at all but she thinks it’s the right thing to do

#lawer au :) #hope it’s ok that I kinda put your tags on blast lol but Uh I love them very much #so 🥺👉👈 #aph #hetalia #ask away! #headcanons #hetalia headcanons #asks #always up for hc requests #aph france #aph england #aph america #aph russia #aph belarus #aph hungary #aph austria #long post

[buckyscrystalqueen]

The Unexpected Protector: Part 5

Pairings: Negan x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Abuse,  Domestic Violence. Angst

Word Count: 7,310

A/N: HEED THE WARNINGS!!!!!! DON’T COME CRYING IF YOU DON’T!

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had no idea how it was possible, but Negan had more patience than any person you had ever met before in your life. He rarely left your side in that first week you were home, and if he did, it was only during your bed bath time, where he simply headed up to the den to take care of the little work that his brother Joey, who you learned was the Mafia’s underboss, needed Negan’s approval on before following through with, so you had some privacy. He was attentive to every single need you had, usually before you even realized you needed them yourself. He made sure that Gretchen and two of her fellow hospital employees, Sam and Daisy, were on top of their game with changing bandages, and repositioning your legs on the pillows and your left arm on the pillow sling every four to six hours like they were supposed to. He had your recovery working like a well oiled machine. Which you grateful for, honestly. 

You found yourself playing Monopoly with the TV on in the background. You had just put a hotel not only on Boardwalk but beside your house on Park Place and you were starting to think that Negan was letting you win.

‘You’re cheating, aren’t you?’ You wrote as Negan took some of your money for the bank to pay for the hotel.

“Not cheating.” He chuckled. You made as close to a hum noise as you could and tapped the marker against the board to repeat your point. He swiped the dice off the board and jostled them in his left palm as he offered you a drink of water seconds before you were about to ask for it. 

“This is NBC News at six with James Riley and Maxine Smith. Our top story tonight. The body of police chief Christian Wilson was recovered from the Hudson River early this morning only hours after the security video of him assaulting his ex-wife surfaced on the internet. Police say…” You didn’t hear the rest of the story as your right hand flew out and grabbed Negan’s wrist as tight as you could.

“Easy, baby girl.” He said softly.

“Was this you?” You grit out as best as you could as your eyes filled with tears of mixed emotions. You ripped your eyes away from the TV to look at him as he very subtly shook his head. He picked up your white board off your leg and scooted so you could read what he wrote as he wrote and erased it at the same time.

‘Not that… but I may or may not have had a hand in finding the hacker that “broke in” to your security system before I had Big Sam fix the hole he hacked through.’ He looked up at you as he wiped the rest of his message away with his thumb and set the white board and the marker down on your lap. You started to choke on your sobs as you grabbed his shirt and frantically pulled him toward you.

“Thank you.” You sobbed as you wrapped your good arm around him and tangled your fingers in his hair.

“Of course, baby girl. But you gotta stop crying. Gretchie ain’t fucking here and I’m not doing the fucking snot sucker thing.” You huffed a laugh and nodded as he kissed your shoulder and pulled back to grab you a couple tissues. He leaned back to look at you and gently wiped your nose as you reached up to run your fingertips across his cheek. There was so much you wanted to say to him and your face fell the slightest bit since you weren’t able to.

“I love you, too.” He said as he looked up into your green eyes and let his hand fall to the bed. He smiled and chuckled as he tilted his head to the side to study your confused face. “I fucking know everything, baby girl. Don’t give me that look. And I may have overheard you and Jade talking about love and shit yesterday. Well… her half of the conversation at least.” You scowled and gently flicked his nose in response. 

“How about this. Until you can say it out loud, I won’t either. Sound good?” You nodded as you wiped a lone tear off your cheek with the tissues. “OK. By the way, it’s your fucking role, slacker.” You rolled your eyes and held your hand out for the dice as you flipped him off as best as you could with your braced left hand. “Just roll the fucking dice.”

——

“What does this mean?” You asked your new lawyer, James Preston, who was not only Negan’s lawyer, but the best lawyer in Manhattan, as you flipped through the subpoena that had been dropped off that morning. You looked up at him through finally unswollen eyes with your eyebrow raised as you flipped the pages closed on the hospital bed table Gretchen had stolen from work for you. James, understanding you perfectly since you could now actually move your lips and tongue to speak three weeks after the initial accident, crossed his legs on the chair beside your bed and leaned forward on them the slightest bit.

“Because of the video and the statement you gave the police, the state of New York is pressing charges on Nathan for being an accessory to attempted first degree murder, conspiracy to commit murder, reckless endangerment in the first, and assault in the second. Max sentence for all of them combined would be about twenty years, possibly life. He’s adamantly denying that he was involved despite your initial statement and cell phone records…”

“Even though he’s on video?” You interrupted as you looked up at your new attorney.

“Unfortunately, the video that was shown on the news doesn’t exactly show who was in the cab…”

“They have the wrong video, then.” You said as you hit Negan’s arm and pointed across your body for the house iPad. “Show him the thing.”

“I have had every fucking inch of this place monitored since the day she filed for divorce.” Negan said as he logged into your security system feature on the tablet that literally ran nearly every inch of your house from the pool pump down to the exact temperature of the large wine cooler in your cellar. “There’s four cameras on the fucking front door alone, including this one.” He hit the live view from the camera directly above your front door that showed the area from just in front of your door all the way out to the street. James got up to look at the feed as Negan hit back and pulled up the next live feed.

“This one, too.” You glanced over and looked at the video from the camera that was located on the corner of your house outside the second story window that showed nearly the entire front garden of your house, the stairs leading up to the sidewalk, the sidewalk itself, and half of the street. “I got one in the same spot on the other side of the second story and one on the wall facing the damn door. They all record, 24 fucking 7, and I can have a copy of the videos from that night made for you in fucking twenty minutes.”

“Do that.” James said as he pulled a yellow notepad from his briefcase and started feverishly writing notes. “I’ll need three copies of every angle you have. One for me, and one for each the prosecution and the defense. That’ll make this an open and shut thing.”

“Thank God.” You gasped as you leaned back against your pillows a little more to stop the ache in your hip before it got much worse.

“Has no one come to talk to you about these tapes?” He asked as he glanced up at you.

“Well, I’ve only been able to actually speak for like three days and I was kinda out of it for a while. But no, no one’s come to talk to me about anything other than the initial police report.”

“That’s… well that’s only partially surprising since the main culprit was the chief of police. Now, one final thing. The trial begins on Monday and you are the only person the state is calling that day. You absolutely cannot take any pain killers that day, no matter how much pain you’re in. It can taint your statement and the whole trial could get thrown out. They know you’re going to be in a wheelchair, they know about all broken ribs, and they know that your jaw is wired shut so if you get too upset, they will stop and let you take a break. But this is all stuff the prosecutor will go over with you tomorrow when you meet her at the court house to go over your testimony.” You nodded your head and looked over at Negan as he texted back and forth with Tank, who was getting the camera feeds copied onto discs upstairs in the den.

“This is gunna fucking suck.” He nodded in agreement as he put the iPad on your table and sat on his hip on the bed beside Chewie, who had taken up permanent sleeping residence next to your left hip.

“Two days, baby girl. Two fucking days and it’s done. We fucking got this.” You nodded your head and adjusted the strap of your left arm and shoulder sling.

“Alright. Let’s do this.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As you sat in your wheelchair in front of the witness stand, waiting patiently for the bailiff to adjust the microphone enough so that it would be able to record your testimony, you realized that you had never actually been on this side of the room before. Sure, you had done your duty as a juror when you were in your early twenties, and you had gone to court with Christian a time or two for moral support on big cases, but you had never been the person on trial or witnessing for one. This past year was full of firsts. You were shaken from your thoughts as the bailiff stood off to your side and put the Bible you needed to swear on as close to your left fingers as possible. You smiled at him and laid your fingers on the hardwood cover.

“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you, God?”

“I do.” You replied with a nod. Your eyes found the ADA, Jenna Prescott, who was an old acquaintance of yours, as she stood up from the table.

“How are you today, (Y/N)?” She asked with a smile as she stepped around the table to act as a focal point so you didn’t have to look at Nathan.

“Well, let’s just say I’ve been better.”

“Understandable.” She said with a nod of her head before launching right into her inquiry. “Now, (Y/N). Let’s start from the beginning. Can you tell us what happened first on the night of the incident?”

“I was watching a movie at around 12:30 at night, when I received a call from my lawyer Nathan Riggs, regarding my divorce papers.” You purposely didn’t continue answering the way Jenna had told you the day before.

“And what did he say when he called?”

“He told me that my ex-husband had finally signed the divorce papers I filed.” She nodded as she strolled slowly towards the full jurors box.

“Did he tell you why he called so late to tell you?”

“He told me that he planned on dropping them off in my mailbox, but I told him I didn’t mind coming upstairs from my basement to get them.”

“So you did just that; you went upstairs to get the papers?” You nodded and cleared your throat as you began to fiddle with the top spongey edge of the leg brace that ran from your hip to mid-calf on your left leg through the knee length dress Gretchen had helped you put on that morning.

“I met him at the curb where he was standing outside a cab. We talked about a case he had been late working on, and he told me that his assistant had filed the divorce papers that afternoon. We joked about my meticulous record keeping because I have kept receipts for every single thing I had purchased during my marriage.”

“And why is that?” Jenna prompted.

“Because when my ex-husband and I entered into our marriage, we were on two different financial levels. I was instructed by my financier at the time, who assisted myself, Christian, and Nathan in writing up my prenuptial agreement, that there was no harm in protecting myself because you never know what the future could look like.” She nodded her head as she searched your eyes, knowing that the next part was where things got difficult.

“Ms. (Y/L/N), what happened after Mr. Riggs gave you the divorce papers?”

“He…” You tried but your words lodged in your throat. You blinked back your tears and cleared your throat as you found Negan, who was standing toward the very back of the court room. He gave you a small nod and you looked back up at Jenna. “He got back into his cab and rolled down the window. He told me that he’d see me around… and that he was sorry for this.” She nodded her head as she walked over and grabbed a little remote.

“People’s exhibits one through four, your honor. Security footage of the night in question from the front of Ms. (Y/L/N)’s home. If it’s OK with the court, I’ll only play exhibit one through to the end so that Ms. (Y/L/N) doesn’t have to relive the night more than once.” The judge told her it was OK, and you forced yourself to look anywhere but at the TV that was being rolled closer to the jurors box. You were grateful that the security cameras didn’t have sound but you didn’t need it. From the moment Christian hit your leg with the baton and the jurors all gasped, you could see the entire night play out like a horrific nightmare in your head. 

Tears welled in your eyes and the pain that you had had since four in the morning thanks to your inability to take your pain mens seemed to increase ten-fold. Just as the video was coming to an end, you heard a quick, two tone whistle that Negan did almost subconsciously when he waited for something; the elevator, for dinner to cool, while he stood outside the bathroom door waiting to carry you back to bed. Your head whipped up to look at him and he smiled and mouthed for you to breathe.

“Now, Ms. (Y/L/N). Can you tell the court what your injuries were after that night?” You took a hissed breath through your teeth and took the box of tissues the bailiff was offering you.

“From my head down,” You started as you wiped your nose and the tears off your face. “I had a severe concussion, and he fractured my left cheek and my jaw. So I now have metal plate in my cheek and my jaw is wired shut. My left shoulder, forearm, wrist and hand were all shattered and replaced with pins, rods, screws, and my shoulder was replaced as well. I had seven total broken rips, a hole in my lung and my spleen that caused severe internal bleeding over the nearly four hours I was left to die. My left hip was shattered and had to be replaced, my left knee was also shattered and replaced and my right ankle was broken.” Negan nodded at you as Jenna started the slide show of photos that were taken of you at the hospital.

“People’s exhibits five through thirty.” She said softly.

“Alright, I cave.” Nathan said loudly as he jumped to his feet. “I’ll plead guilty to whatever you want, just please stop making her relive my mistake.” Jenna looked over between him and the judge as she temporarily turned off the TV.

“He pleads guilty to all charges.” Jenna said with a nod. “Minimum of twenty years and loss of his bar status.”

“That’s fine.” Nathan said with a nod. “Fine.”

“Works for me.” The judge said with a nod. “Final sentencing in two weeks. Thank you for your time, Ms. (Y/L/N).” You nodded as you set the tissues on your lap while the bailiff came over to push your wheelchair over to the partition so Negan could intercept your chair. You thanked Jenna on your way past as Nathan was put into hand cuffs on your right. You looked over at him with nearly dead eyes and he bowed his head in shame.

“I won’t say I’m sorry.” He said as he pulled the slightest bit against the officers. “Because I know it doesn’t mean shit. But I will say that I hope you don’t let this change you forever.” 

“Good luck, Nathan.” You responded as you took your purse from your boyfriend and looked away from him. “Can we go home?” Negan nodded as he grabbed the handles of your wheelchair and waited for Tank to clear a path in front of you so that no one could hit your leg.

“Abso-fucking-lutely, baby girl.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Negan…” You breathed as you looked at the two dresses he had picked out for you to wear to his mom’s family dinner. It was going to be the first family event you would be going to and you absolutely didn’t want to meet your boyfriend’s family with an unattractive brace on your knee or your left arm and hand in the most God awful cast in the world. You were grateful that you had the wires and arches taken out of your mouth the week before so eating was something that sort of happened now but this was still not how you wanted to meet them. 

“Sweetheart. We talked about this.” Negan said as he leaned against the dresser in your closet. “You have to go, you look fucking gorgeous, and they aren’t gunna give a shit that you need a cane to walk.”

“You’re not helping!” You said as you glared up at him.

“And you’re not getting dressed.” He retorted. “Baby, we’re gunna be late.” You sighed and reached out for his hand to stand up.

“I hate you right now.” You growled as you grabbed a thin strapped black and flower patterned dress that would hopefully distract from the still bright pink scar on your shoulder and cover most of your knee brace. “Just help me.”

“You’re too hard on yourself, baby.” He said as he took the dress from you and pulled it off the hanger. “You’re gorgeous.” 

“And you’re just trying to butter me up.” You snarked as you let him put the dress over your head.

“Is it working?” He chuckled as he pulled your left arm through the opening as slowly and as carefully as possible since your range of motion wasn’t top notch yet.

“No.” You turned with your back toward him so he could zip you up as you dropped a pair of simple black flats on the floor. He fixed your hair, which you had honestly just blowed dry after your shower, and kneeled down so that he could help you get your feet into the soft soled shoe.

“Alright, let’s go, princess.” You rolled your eyes and grabbed your cane.

“If your mother doesn’t love me, I’m punching you in the fucking throat.” He burst out laughing as you partially limped passed your sleeping pup and out of your closet.

“Will you fucking quit!” He laughed as he snagged your handbag off the bed and jogged to beat you to the elevator. “She’s gunna love you as much as I fucking do.” You grumbled under your breath at him as you rode the elevator downstairs and hobbled out to the waiting SUV. As the car pulled away from the curb to start the long trip to Staten Island to Negan’s childhood home, your boyfriend gently reached out to pull your legs onto his lap.

“Look, I fucking get it.” He said with a nod as he habitually readjusted the straps of your knee brace. “You’re scared. You haven’t left the fucking house in nearly three months, you have been avoiding most people like the fucking plague, and now I’m asking you to fucking have dinner with people you haven’t fucking met before. You have a right to be scared but you know what?” You cocked your eyebrow and looked up at him through your lashes as you fiddled with your cast in your lap. 

“I’m gunna be right fucking there the whole damn time. And Gretchie will be there, too. Yea, my family can be loud and it sure as fuck is giant… but they know what you’ve gone through. They know you’re recovering something traumatic. And I promise you that no one is going to judge you because of your scars or your cane. No one would fucking dare and if they do, they’ll fucking answer to me.” He fixed your dress across your lap and gently reached up to cup your jaw.

“Come back to me, baby girl. I miss my strong, independent, fearless woman. You’re letting that prick fucking tear you down again.  Don’t. You’re so much fucking stronger than that. Look at all you’ve accomplished in the past few months. You beat out what they said would be your recovery times and forced yourself to be able to walk faster than any doctor had said you would. You made yourself be independent at home. But now you gotta make yourself be independent out of your home again, too. And ma’s birthday is the safest place you can do that.” You nodded your head and took a slightly shaky deep breath as the car pulled up in front of Gretchen’s apartment.

“OK.” You said softly as you pushed your hair back over your shoulders. “Fine, you win.”

“I fucking always win, baby girl.” He chuckled as his baby sister, her husband, and her two boys came out of their apartment. You could hear Gretchen yelling at her sons as she pulled open the door in front of you to let the kids crawl into the back.

“And I swear to God, if you don’t shut your damn mouth about the fucking thing, I’ll throw every fucking toy you own out and you’ll never get another toy again!” 

“Damn, Gretchie.” Negan laughed as he moved your legs momentarily so they didn’t get bumped. “You sound like ma.”

“I feel like ma.” She said as she pushed back the middle seat and got in next to her brother as her husband, Franco, got into the front seat. “Hi (Y/N). Kids, say hi.” They two kids in the back seat said hello to you and their uncle Negan as Gretchen helped her brother rest your feet across both their laps. She smoothed out your dress with a smile and leaned against the door as her two kids started playing with their Nintendo’s. “I love this dress.”

“Negan picked it out.” You said as you brushed your hand across the fabric. 

“Wrong.” She said with a laugh. “I picked it out. I thought it would bring out the color of your eyes. Which it does.”

“Couldn’t let me have one fucking thing, could you?” Negan chuckled.

“Yea, ‘cause I’m letting you take credit for something I did.” She said as she looked over at him, incredulously. “Not a chance.” He rolled his eyes and rested his hands on your right thigh as the car left Manhattan for the night. The car fell into a comfortable silence until you finally pulled up to the restaurant that had been rented out for the night for the family event.

“Wait for Gretchie.” Negan said as he helped you spin on the seat since your healing hip was still a little sensitive. You nodded your head and tried not to psych yourself out as you pushed open the car door and leaned your cane on the side of the car.

“Is this the famous, (Y/N)?” A woman called out as Gretchen helped you out of the higher car onto the curb. You wanted to look up at her and introduce yourself but making sure you didn’t fall over was a little more pressing at the moment.

“Hey, ma.” Negan said behind you as he held onto your hips while you steadied your weight on your legs as evenly as you could. “This is my angel.” Once you took your first step away from the car, you looked up at the woman who absolutely did not look like she was turning seventy-six, with a smile. She immediately reached up to brush her fingers through your hair to fix it for you with a small smile. Her gorgeous brown eyes searched your face as she adjusted your hair over your shoulders so it sat in cute waves across your skin.

“She’s perfect.” She said as she took a step back with your casted hand held lightly in hers. “I approve of this one.” Your face flushed as Negan stepped up to your side and rested his hand on the small of your back.

“Thanks, ma. Happy birthday.” She nodded and kissed his cheek before turning toward Gretchen to say hi to her daughter. “Come on, baby girl. Let’s go inside.”

——

You didn’t know if you were reading to much into it because of your nerves but Negan definitely acted different toward you around his family. The overprotective, hyper-vigilance was abandoned after a few minutes as his attention was drawn to other members of his massive family. 

His mother, Maria, on the other hand, practically adopted you as her second daughter. She fawned over you every second of the night, from making sure you weren’t standing up too long, to making sure you weren’t in any pain at all. She made sure that the kitchen knew that your plate of lasagna needed cut in small enough pieces so that you didn’t worry about having to do it one handed and so that it would be easier for you to eat with your jaw still healing. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought you were a helpless child again at your uncle Bobby’s house. But surprisingly, it made you feel ten times more comfortable than you expected it to with the family. At least, most of them.

“Have you seen this new fling of his?” A thick accent asked over the sound of the restroom door opening as you were using the bathroom between dinner and dessert. “She’s just hanging all over mama…”

“And that dress.” Another woman said. “Did she miss the memo that wives wear black? It’s just disrespectful…”

“I don’t know.” A third voice said softly as the three women stopped in front of the handicapped stall to check their reflections in the mirror. “I talked to her for a couple minutes and she seems really really sweet. Gretchen says Negan adores her…”

“Yea, probably because of her fake tits.” The first woman laughed as she dug through her bag for something. You huffed to yourself and shook your head as you grabbed the handrail in the stall with your right hand and pulled yourself to your feet so you didn’t have to use your knee too much.

“The tits are real.” You called out as you pulled up your panties and fixed your dress. “And Negan and Gretchen picked out the dress.” With a shake of your head, you flushed, and limped out of the stall with the most fake smile you could muster. “And Mama Marie is being nice to his son’s new girlfriend. I’m not hanging all over her. May I wash my hands, please?” The three women moved from in front of the sink and you gave them a small nod and a soft thanks. The trio stood awkwardly around you and finished fixing their makeup as you dried your hand as best as you could so it wouldn’t slip on your cane.

“I will say though.” You said as you hesitated at the door.  The three women looked over their shoulders at you and you simply smiled. “Even if you think I’m being disrespectful, I appreciate you checking me out. Good self-esteem boost to hear my tits still look good.” You turned toward the door and nearly ran head first into Maria, who looked pissed beyond belief.

“What did you say to her?” She demanded as she gently moved you out the door.

“Mama, we didn’t…” The woman that belonged to the second voice you heard tried, only to be cut off when Maria put her hand up.

“Save your breath.” She growled. “You know better.” She followed after you back to the head table and your brow furrowed slightly.

“Am I supposed to be wearing all black?” You asked as you lowered yourself into your chair.

“Well…” She said as she sat down beside you in Negan’s chair. “Usually, yes. It’s a sign of respect for family members that are in jail or that pass away. But you technically aren’t fully family yet. Which is why Gretchie put you in black with a pop of color.” You nodded your head as she waved over Negan with a single drag of her finger. “Don’t worry, sweets. We’ll take care of ya and teach you the ways of the family.” You gave her a soft smile and nodded as she stood up to say something to Negan. You could only make out the words ‘horrendous’, ‘disrespectful’, and ‘breasts’ but by the look on your boyfriend’s face, he was as appalled as his mother was at the women’s actions.

“You OK, baby girl?” He asked as he leaned down to your eye level.

“I’m fine.” He nodded his head once and kissed your forehead.

“Stay with ma.” You nodded at his retreating back as he called out for ‘Paulie’ angrily.

“One thing you never do.” Maria said as she sat back down and reached for her wine glass from her spot on the other side of Negan’s chair. “Never disrespect another member of this family. I won’t stand for it. And my grand nieces should know that by now.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You said as you picked up your water and took a sip as Negan nearly threw the man you expected was Paulie toward the front door. 

“I need you to fucking explain to me…” You heard him roar as the door slowly closed behind him. “Why the fuck your fucking cunt wife is talking shit…” You didn’t realize you had started getting up from the table until Maria put her hand on your shoulder and pushed you back down gently.

“Stay put, baby. My Negan, he’s a good boy, but dealing with the family sometimes is a big job. Being his woman is not an easy task. Lucille tried, God bless her soul, but…”

“Who?” You asked as you looked away from your boyfriend and at his mother.

“Lucille. His ex-wife. Didn’t you know about Lucille?” You shook your head and looked back up at Negan.

“No…” You whispered. “No, I didn’t.”

——

“You’re awful fucking quiet tonight.” Negan said as you lay across the back seat of the SUV on your way home after dinner.

“Just tired.” You said as you played with the gold band Negan hand on his right ring finger like you usually did. You had no idea why it didn’t occur to you before but, now that you really looked at it, it was absolutely a wedding band. Negan hummed and slowly nodded his head as he searched your face.

“Sure you’re not fucking upset about what those bitches said?” You huffed and shook your head as you looked up to meet his eyes.

“No, baby. I’m fine.” He nodded again as the car pulled up to the curb in front of your house, and you could tell he wasn’t buying what you were selling. He helped you drop your legs to the ground and passed you your cane as Tank came around the car to help you out.

“The fuck did my ma say to you?” You hated that your slight hesitation gave you away but you still shook your head.

“Nothing worth while.” You could almost feel him fuming behind you for blatantly lying to you as you slowly made your way down the front stairs and into your house. But it wasn’t until you hit the elevator that he figured it out.

“Ah, fuck. She fucking told you about fucking Lucille.” You huffed a humorless laugh as you limped into the elevator and shook your head.

“The fact that she did and you didn’t in the six months we’ve been together is what is really fucking upsetting, Negan.” 

“Yea because you’re an open fucking book…”

“I am an open fucking book, Negan!” You shouted as the elevator stopped on your floor. “You know fucking everything about me down to my Goddamn deodorant and panty preference. What do I know about you? Fucking nothing. I don’t know the apparent rules about being your girlfriend, I don’t know the fucking fact that you were fucking married. I don’t know fucking shit! So don’t you dare get all self righteous on me.” You stepped out of your dress and threw your strapless bra across the bathroom before turning on the tub. “You have no fucking right.”

“I have no fucking right?” He asked as you snatched your plastic cast cover off the counter. “I have to… don’t you fucking get in that fucking tub!”

“Make me get out of it!” You shouted as you threw your knee brace at him and awkwardly maneuvered yourself into the bath.

“Well I’m not fucking getting you out of it.” He retorted. “And I got all the fucking right in the world to keep my fucking life private…”

“Not from me!” You screamed. “Not from me!” He angrily threw his hands up in the air and stormed out of the bathroom with a growled shout.

“Enjoy sleeping in the fucking bathtub!” You rolled your eyes and grabbed a lavender bath bomb from the basket hanging off the side of the bathtub.

“Don’t worry, I will.” You said you to yourself as you dropped the bomb in the hot water and turned off the faucet. You sighed and laid your head on the pillow you had attached to the tub to close your eyes for a few minutes and let the heat workout the stress knots and pain from your bones. Which is exactly where Negan found you three hours later.

“Goddamn it.” He growled as he pulled the chain for the stopper and let the water out as he rolled up his sleeves. He laid a towel down on the sheets and came back into the room while grumbling under his breath since he knew he was gunna have to do this. He gently pulled you out of the receding water with a shake of his head and carried you into the bedroom. “Fucking… fuck.” He said as he laid you down on your side of the bed and toweled you dry. “Why the fuck… just… fuck…” He threw the top towel and the cast cover into the bathroom and pulled the covers up over you. “Pain in my fucking ass.” He continued to swear as he stripped down to his boxers, got in on his side of the bed, and glanced over to make sure Chewie was in his bed.

“Your mommy is a fucking thorn in my side right fucking now.” He said as he flipped off the lights. “But she’s fucking right.”

——

You knew Negan had caved and carried you to bed when the towel underneath you scratched at your skin when you stretched under the sheets. You could hear him breathing beside you but you knew by the sound of it that he wasn’t asleep. You moved your left hand across the bed and he sighed as he moved his right hand out toward yours.

“I’d just turned fucking 20.” He grumbled softly. “Had no fucking business getting married. I was just a fucking kid and we were fucking high school sweethearts. Just Goddamn kids. She had no idea what she was fucking marrying into. She lasted about three years before she took off. Moved to fucking France on my dime. And I just fucking wrote her off. Told people she had fucking kicked it. Shut my fucking heart behind a mother fucking wall and didn’t dare think twice about letting that wall down. Not until last night.” You rolled your head on the pillow to look at him in the darkened bedroom as he carefully laced his fingers with yours.

“My ma is the only person that knew the fucking truth about that back stabbing cunt. And she would never, ever fucking bring her up unless she was fucking sure that that person was fucking serious about me. Her fucking telling you about Lucille is her subtle fucking way of telling me to get my fucking head out of my ass about you. You know, I laid here all fucking night asking myself why the fuck I wasn’t letting you in after everything we’ve fucking been through together so far. And I didn’t have a fucking answer. Not a single Goddamn word. So, starting today, I’ll let you in if you still fucking wanna be in.” The second you nodded your head, he let go of your hand, moved it to lay across your stomach, and scooted across the mattress to wrap his arms around you. You reached up with your good hand and tangled your fingers in his hair as you kissed his forehead.

“Old Spice.” He said after a few moments. “Original fucking Old Spice and Calvin Klein’s boxer briefs.” Your smile grew as you rested your cheek on his head.

“Thank you.” He nodded his head and kissed your scared shoulder with a smile.

“Of course, baby girl.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So what the fuck are you dragging me to again?” Negan called out from your bathroom that he had partially taken over as you tried on yet another dress; a cream colored dress with an intricate red pattern.

“It’s an art auction for St. Jude.” You called out as you walked over Chewie and his shoe shaped squeaky toy. “And I have had my eye on this painting of New York by a man named Van Tame for weeks to go in the library to replace that God awful one above the fire place. What about this one?” Negan looked at you through the mirror as he brushed his teeth and shook his head.

“Too naked. I like the white one.” You rolled your eyes as you looked at yourself in the mirror, only partially agreeing with the nearly naked aspect of it.

“What about that long green grey-ish one? I really like that one.”

“Fuckin’ green one would make it a little easier for you to walk, baby girl.” He said as you headed back into the closet to change once again. “And you could get away with fucking flats.” You nodded in agreement as you stepped over Chewie again and took off the naked dress. “What do you think the painting’s going for?”

“It’s estimated about twenty-five grand. But I know that bitch, Lady Ratchet cunt face is going to do everything she can to out bid me for it. She does it every fucking year.”

“So I’ll fucking kill her.” Negan said easily, causing you to laugh as you slipped the dress over your head, being mindful of of your already finished up-do.

“You’re not gunna kill her, baby.” You giggled as you lifted your dress and headed out of the closet so he could zip you up. “That mob shit doesn’t work on the Upper East.”

“Well it fucking could.” He chuckled as he zipped up the A-line, transparent lace dress.

“Not today.” You said in a sing song voice as you stepped into your black flats and turned to finish your makeup since you settled on your dress. “Today, you are an upstanding gentleman.”

“How fucking boring.” He joked as he grabbed his shirt and tie off the door knob. “Is this how it’s always gunna be?”

“Very much so.” You said as you held out your mascara for him to twist the top for you since your left hand wasn’t completely up to par but at least sans cast. “I miss my boring life, thank you. Getting your ass handed to you takes a lot outta a girl.”

“Yea, her fucking boyfriend, too.” He agreed with a smirk. “Carrying you around all the fucking time…” You scowled at him through the mirror as he slowly tied his tie in front of his chest.

“You’re an asshole.” He chuckled and finished his tie so he could close your mascara for you.

“You fucking love me all the same.” You threw on some red lipstick and smacked your lips together before turning to Negan with a smile. “Ready?”

“To be fucking tortured? No.”

——

“Lot number 119. ‘Street Scene on Fifth Avenue’ by Van Tame.”

“This one.” You said softly as you sat up a little straighter in your chair to see the painting you were there to purchase. You could see Ms. Bradbury sit up a little when you did out of the corner of your eye as the painting was set on the easel at the front of the room. “Fuck you, bitch. It’s mine.” You said under your breath as you picked up your paddle.

“Let me see it.” Negan said beside you as he took the paddle from your hand. “See if she’s willing to go fucking toe to toe with me.”

“Don’t go over two million.” You said softly as the starting bid was set at fifteen grand.

“I’ll go as high as she’ll fucking run it but I’m winning this damn painting for you.” He said as he raised your paddle for seventeen grand. You glanced over Mrs. Bradbury, who looked as confused as ever as she raised her paddle for seventeen seventy-five. A smug smile stretched across your face as you sat back in your chair while Negan placed the next bid at eighteen twenty-five.

“I think she’s scared of you.” You whispered as a woman a few rows in front of you placed the next bid only for her husband to scold her softly for doing so.

“She fucking better be.” He said as he placed nineteen thousand. Mrs. Bradbury went to lift her paddle in the air and Negan’s head whipped over in her direction. His eyes narrowed threateningly as she placed the nineteen twenty-five bid and she startled as she looked back over at you. He raised your paddle for the next twenty five hundred dollar jump and silently dared her to continue. You looked away from her with a smile that threatened to break your cheeks as the final call for bids was announced.

“Sold to the gentleman in the back of the room.”

“There you go, baby girl.” Negan said proudly as he handed you back your paddle.

“You are my painting savior.” You said as you grabbed your handbag from the chair beside you and tapped his side. “Come on. Let’s pay and go celebrate our victory.”

#Negan x Reader #The Unexpected Protector #Negan thirst squad #Negan's thirst squad

[canaryatlaw]

So today was good, despite the fact that I spent a fair amount of time outside and it was FUCKING FREEZING out today. Seriously, have I mentioned how much I hate cold? Cuz I really, really do. Sigh. Anyway. Alarm went off, got ready and ate breakfast then went off to school. While on the train I checked my email to find a last minute email from my prof of the class I was going to saying she had food poisoning and couldn't come to class, but rest assured another LARC professor will take over and we still have to hand in our assignments. Oh well. Got off the train and saw Anthony outside in his normal spot which made me happy. I saw him briefly yesterday but I didn't have my school bag with me so I didn't have his present, which I had today. So I ran over to him and gave him the watch, and he was so happy and just like "God is so good, I was literally just saying I could really use a watch" which made me oh so happy to hear because I didn't know what to get him but decided on a watch for no real logical reason, but it was the right present, which made me smile. And I made sure I got one that has a ten year battery so he wouldn't have to worry about replacing it or anything. So that was definitely a bright spot of my day. Went up to class, turned in our papers and class started with our sub. I didn't think LARC could get any more boring this year, but apparently I was wrong, because this class was mind-numbingly painful. It was bad. Apparently our prof left us some exercises to get through using the bluebook and some research options, but the directions really weren't clear at all and like I knew the sub was not interpreting them the right way because it literally made zero sense, but I just had to sit there and be bored to death. It helped that we got into groups because not everybody has their bluebook with them, so at least there were two other people there to commiserate with. But yeah, it was bad. I was very happy when that was over. Left school and ran down the block to catch a bus, then up to planet fitness to get some workout in. I'm still like exploring the place and I was doing the arm and leg machines for a while, but I hadn't found anything for like abs and such which I was kind of annoyed about, but I did find them today! One of them was mostly fine though I think it might have aggravated my back (not that that's terribly hard to do). The other ended up being interesting though. It was like a bench thing on a slant with handles parallel to where your head was with weight attached so you pulled up while making like a sit up motion, not hard. Well. Lol. At first I like, couldn't get it at all, even on the like 10 pound lightest setting. But once I sat up a bit I was able to make it work, but it was like super intense ab workout which was good and I was happy about it, but after when I was on the exercise bike and they were still hurting I realized I probably overdid it a bit there, being that that's more or less the same area that I injured at the gym over the summer (prior to injuring my wrist there) from overextending myself. Whoops. Thankfully it hasn't bother me since so it must not have been too bad. Left after like 30 minutes on the exercise bike, and caught an "express" bus that goes up the east coast of Chicago (bordering on Lake Michigan) with very few stops which is great, but also means that it was crowded as fuck of course, so it was a bit of a squeeze. It didn't get me all that close to home, but there was an option to take another bus, and I was checking its arrival times as I was almost off the first one but it was another like 9 minutes out and it was fucking cold out, so I was like eh fuck it I'll walk. It was a few blocks further than my normal train walk, though about two blocks further north than the normal street I take (I could walk up and take this one, but I like walking through main street in my neighborhood, so I usually walk up the two blocks there). It wasn't terrible distance wise, but by the time I got home I was so fucking cold it wasn't cool at all. Ugh. So I made hot cocoa while fixing dinner, so that helped. I watched some minority report, stopping at various points to do different things, like make vanilla pudding because I wanted some and I make damn good vanilla pudding okay? Even when it has to chill for like, 3 hours afterwards. I was also looking at the mock trial problem. I scrolled down to the top and I was like oh it's a criminal case, good I'm on the defense because I just think like a defense attorney in a criminal context (probably a side effect of being the daughter of a criminal defense attorney) so I prefer to be on that side. But here's the kicker, I scroll down more and guess what the fucking charges are? Fucking aggravated child abuse. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME???? Literally any other charge I would've been fine with, even murder, but fucking child abuse??? Fuck my life, man. So that's just another beautiful little irony of my life, lol. At another point, my dad called to tell me I got a federal jury summons after filling out the survey they asked me to, even though I included on there that I was living in Chicago (sigh)...but he's gonna take care of it because he knows everyone and can deal with stuff like that easily. He also told me he had spoken with the superintendent of my sister's school, who has apparently decided to continue being a fucking idiot and clearly doesn't know what on earth is good for him. Last we heard they said they were consulting a "title IX expert" which I immediately called bullshit on, because there's no way they would go to an actual title IX expert, they would go to some religious freedom person, and guess who was right?? They went to one of the Christian education legal organizations blah blah, and they apparently told them they're totally in the clear and they can do whatever they want which is also pure BULLSHIT, and I am so ready to destroy them at this point you have no fucking clue. They say the word, and I'll mobilize my forces and take them the fuck down, and I'll make sure everybody knows about it. I'm just so so so fed up with their elitist bullshit that is so ridiculously off base from anything Christianity could even claim to be. I've said it before, but if I wasn't 1000% sure God is real the actions of Christians definitely would've made me leave the church at this point. Thankfully I've been blessed by a wonderful physical church I can go to here and not have to worry about legalism and just bask in the love and glory of our God, but "the church" as a whole has been so incredibly discouraging to me. Don't even get me started on the whole refugee preference to Christians, I already went on a Facebook rant about it and I can probably go on for hours telling you everything that's wrong with it. I'm so fucking furious I can't even put it into words. Just....no. No. If you believe someone's life is worth more because they have the same belief system as you, I'm sorry but you are not following the same God as me. Not by a long shot. Like the bible is so explicitly clear about what our actions should be in these kinds of situations, and I'm just so, so grieved by everything that has transpired under the false banner of Christianity- false because while they may claim the name, they clearly know nothing of the gospel and it's many elements. Just....I could go on, but I think you get the point. Sigh. Anyway. I did also watch how to get away with murder, because apparently that came back yesterday, which I wasn't even aware of being I really don't give very many fucks about that show at this point. It was a decent enough episode, I've just never loved all of there drama as much as I loved the cases, mostly because there would be so much drama if they just STOPPED FUCKING KILLING PEOPLE but apparently that's asking too much. Poor Wes, you really did deserve better. It's obvious they're not gonna keep Annalise in prison for the rest of the season, so she'll probably be out soon. The rest was fine I guess, I was sad for Laurel to have to wake up to news like that after such an incredibly traumatic event, topped with the fact that she's pregnant with his baby....like, thats gotta suck. So it was okay I guess. I'm really over Frank as a character and all his shady shit. Anyway. I got through episode 9 of the minority report so there's only one episode left, and I feel like I'm not gonna get as satisfying an ending as I could've, like they were definitely setting up a plot that was supposed to take more than 10 episodes, but for whatever reason was limited to what they got. Oh well, it's been interesting enough for what it is, and Nick Zano is a hoot in it, his character is great. And yeah, that was my night and my eyes reallllly want to close now so I'm going to go do that. Goodnight friends. Happy weekend.

#daily journal #January 2017

[theliterateape]

Carrie

By Erik Lewin

I was in Las Vegas doing guest spots at a comedy club — I perform stand-up — and met this cute girl in the green room. She was a visiting comic, a thick-hipped thirtysomething with long brown hair from New York. Her name was Carrie, and we struck up a nice banter.

After the show, Carrie and I left together and parked ourselves at a blackjack table. I sipped a cocktail, she had soda, (she was a recovering addict), though this did not interfere with her pronouncement that earlier, she’d smoked some fabulous weed.

At the table she held a cigarette to my lips, like a mobster’s mole, and  gushed to the dealer how funny I was at the show, that he’d missed the time of his life. I pressed a hand on her knee, and when she didn’t flinch, I moved to her thigh.

She tucked her arm through mine and we strolled the casino floor to a nearby lounge. Her mascara had smeared a little, but her eyes still glowed. We kissed.  

I suggested we leave the lobby in search of a quieter place, like my room. Once inside we both played it cool, politely sitting on the bed. I soon felt with my hand at her hip and suddenly she took my body in one move, like a jiu-jitsu master, pinning me on my back.

“I’d like a shower,” she said, pulling off me.

I wriggled out of my jeans and joined her. It was a lovely way to get better acquainted.   

“Let’s dry off,” she said.

Once on the bed, the soapy foreplay gave way to sex, our rhythm already in tune, as if we hadn’t just met a couple hours ago.

Afterward, her head nestled on my chest, we spoke softly before drifting off to a peaceful slumber.  In the late morning she dressed to leave, but not before we kissed and she left her number, saying she had a great time and we should be in touch. I told her I felt the same. It had all the hope in the world.

Back in L.A. I went about my business, but Carrie was on my mind. I’d lay on the couch, sunlight streaming through the blinds, and look out into the distant sky thinking, she’s out there.

lI told her I wanted to come to New York to see her. She suggested I stay with her in Brooklyn. It was Chrismas time, and all this good fortune was enough to make me believe in an adult Santa. We discussed the details:

“I have a show when you land. Just come there straight from the airport.”

“I’ll have my luggage,” I protested. “Plus I’m gonna smell like an airplane.”

“Gotta run, I’ll text you later,” she said.

She sent a text an hour later:

I really don’t know why it’s such a big deal to come to my show, nobody’s gonna take your stuff, but whatever, you can pickup the key to my place at the laundromat next door. It’ll be under a brick in front.

It was a bizarre instruction, but I refused to let reason be a stumbling block. At this point, it would’ve taken a declaration of syphilis to derail me. As it happened, another troubling scenario materialized.

“Carrie.” I coughed into the phone. I was supposed to fly the next day when I caught this terrible bug. Damn it!

“Are you okay?”

“I’m a wreck. Can barely get outta bed.” Cough. “I don’t think I can make the trip.”

“That so sucks.” She paused for a long moment. “Tell you what - what if I came to you? I’d love to get out of the cold weather. I could even make you soup. What do you think?”

I almost felt cured.

“Are you kidding? I’d love that. As long as you don’t mind a convalescent patient.”

“Great! I’ll fly out in two days, on Christmas Day. There’s just one thing - cash is pretty tight - do you think you could cover my ticket to LA?”

“No problem. I’ll reimburse you when you get here.”

“Ok cool! I’ll text you my flight details. See you soon! I’m so excited.”

“Me too. Thanks for doing this.”

I clicked off, snotting into my pillow and dreaming of dancing bowls of chicken soup and naked boobs.

 On Christmas, I woke to the following text:

About to head to airport, but just so you know, I’m bringing my dog, Sugar. She’s a chihuaha and when she’s alone she gets anxiety and shits the floor. She’s super cute though, you’ll love her.

I’m sure she’s delightful, but I’m not allowed to have any pets in my — I’ll get kicked out.

Trust me, your landlord won’t even hear my little boo. Gotta run, my uber’s waiting.”

I’m at Bellevue. Against my will. You gotta get me outta here! This is a mistake! Come now!!

This dog thing was sprung on me last second, but so what, I liked dogs, and what were the chances I’d get busted? If her biggest flaw was caring about an animal’s welfare, then I was coming out way ahead.

After two hours, I got another text:

omg this uber guy took me to an empty parking lot and said I had to blow him. I screamed and Sugar barked so he did drive me to the airport but I got here too late so missed the flight. Promise to make next one in two hours, kissesJ

This was alarming for many reasons, but the flu overtook me before I could process it any further and I fell asleep. I still believed my Nightingale would be in the air, coming to my rescue. When I awoke, a new text from her:

Stuck In a bathroom stall at JFK. They threw me off the plane. Cops after me. Hiding. So scared. CALL ME!

I stared dumbly at the screen and finally texted:

VERY concerned that you’re not ok. . .  

The phone went quiet for an hour. Then, another text:

I’m at Bellevue. Against my will. You gotta get me outta here! This is a mistake! Come now!!

Bellevue was the psych ward in New York City. I’d represented clients there as a criminal defense attorney, those who needed immediate commitment on account of psychotic episodes. Now she was one of them! It was a little rushed — I liked to wait until the third date before Bellevue — but now I was thrilled she missed those planes!

I texted:

So sorry to hear that. I wish you well-being, and hope you’re well, but I’m inconveniently three thousand miles away.

She called me. “I did this for you, Erik — I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for you! And you promised to pay for my flight! I need you to pay for that!”

It was beyond shocking. “I was going to reimburse you once you landed in L.A. The last I checked, Bellevue wasn’t in Beverly Hills.”

“You liar! You said—“

The phone clicked dead. So did our relationship. I don’t know if the whole thing was a set-up, but I don’t think so — she texted two days later, once released from the psych ward — and she admitted to having taken a strong narcotic cocktail that morning, and didn’t remember much of what happened. Amazingly, she still demanded payment for the flight! The one she never took! In the end, I didn’t succumb to such a hollow plea.

It was almost impossible to comprehend that in a long line of crazy dating experiences, this was on a whole other level. It might be time to move to a monastery. I was ready to shave my head. I was terrified of single women, but at least they’d never find me in Tibet!

And yet, in spite of it all, I kept my hair, and prepared to try it all over again.  

Like what you just read? Check out Lewin’s novel, Son of Influence now available on Amazon.

#Bad Date #Memoir #Son of Influence

[justanoldsoutherngirl]

Insatiable...or as I like to call it “life in the south”

I watched the Netflix series Insatiable last week. And rewatched it again this week..Ok, maybe not watched...inhaled might be a better word. I have never had Netflix and decided that since my friend, Bill Alverson was the Producer and it had Alyssa Milano in it I really needed to see it. After all, I have always loved Bill’s wicked sense of humor and his flair for the dramatic; and Alyssa, well during my Charmed years I could relate to her, and her relationship with Cole (who hasn’t fallen in love with a very bad boy). And I watched it because there were critiques online saying it was fat shaming...so of course, being a chubby southern girl I decided to see what was up. 

  I started watching the first episode and immediately thought, this is what it would be like if Hairspray, and Pretty in Pink, met up with Desperate Housewives, and then they all meet up with Dark of the Moon, and they all join Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, in THE SOUTH! What’s not to love about it? First, Patty (Fatty Patty played by Debby Ryan, from THE SOUTH) gets in a fight with a drunk guy outside a convenience store after he insults her and tries to take her candy bar. OK...been there done that. Do not get in the way of me and my Peanut Butter Cups or Three Musketeers! I will hit you! And, of course, due to the fight, her jaw is wired shut and of course she loses weight, and of course becomes a hottie. Actually, yeah...this makes sense right? Girls disappear over the summer and sometimes all of a sudden become hotties, usually due to hormones and not having their jaw wired shut. Those of us who never managed to actually have this particularly special summer, well...we were super jealous of those that did! 

In comes Bob Armstrong, a lawyer who does pageant coaching on the side (or who used to. That is another whole story and I won’t ruin the series for you!). But clearly having grown up with Bill, Bob is Bill...and Dallas Roberts (another cast member from THE SOUTH) is PERFECT! You may remember Dallas from Walk the Line as Sam Phillips, or Dallas Buyers Club as David Wayne (as Ron Woodruff’s defense attorney), or in The Walking Dead as Milton Mamet. Frankly, in Insatiable, Dallas reminds me of Bill and a very young John Ritter (drool). 

Bob Armstrong is married to Coralee Huggens-Armstrong played by Alyssa Milano (who has too many films/shows to mention!) and while not from the south has a great southern accent (Brooklyn, the coastal south...not too far away really due to the drawl and the non-rhoticity!). Coralee is the epitome of the white-trash southern trailer park girl gone gorgeous/wealthy and trying to become a member of the Junior League. Growing up in the south there were quite a few of those. 

As a former member of a Junior League (yep...it is pretty funny to realize that I was in a Junior League and have the paper to prove it!), I will never forget a member insulting me and saying that I shouldn’t be in there (she was later charged with embezzlement). A dear friend told her, “well...you gotta remember her momma and her aunt were in it, and her aunt was the President. So she stays!” 

I digress...the fat shaming is at the very least, low on the priority list in Insatiable. The south has this very dichotomous relationship with food...we insist you eat, eat, eat...think Jewish mother stereotype, and then at the same time try to get you, especially as a female, to maintain your weight and appearance. I don’t feel like it is fat shaming, it is the south. Hell, we are brutal on people who are too skinny too! In other words, we can be equal opportunity offenders of pretty much anyone or anything. To me Insatiable actually brings all of these offenses out and puts them on display!

Such also is the whole religion crazy Miss Magic Jesus Pageant...reminiscent of a scene in Drop Dead Gorgeous with Denise Richards, dancing with a Jesus Crucifix statue singing, Can’t take my eyes off of you. Oh and let’s just say that DDG was highly acclaimed during its debut!

  Clearly some are getting that this is a pure campy fun time! Daniel Schroeder recently wrote a piece on Slate “What all the critics misunderstand about Netflix’s Insatiable.” [https://slate.com/human-interest/2018/08/insatiable-netflix-review-critics-are-missing-its-camp-sensibility.html]. Lea Palmieri (@littleleap) agrees that the series tells you they are upfront, in the first few minutes and you can decide whether to stream or skip (she suggest streaming!). But, it is also clear that some are stomping on the series without having even watched it. Melissa Barnhart of Christian Post writes, Patty is called into Pastor Mike’s office (Michael Ian Black) with her father…yeah, it is Bob Anderson not her “father,” and Ms. Barnhart also notes the sexual connotations of a song during the Magic Jesus Pageant. Honestly? How is this any different from a “father-daughter” dance or virginity pledge ceremony? Are these also a little too crazy as well? Moreover, as a college professor I would give Ms. Barnhart an “F” for critical analysis of the film simply for not following the story line and understanding the characters!

  And seriously people….for News Busters to comment on Bob’s effeminate behavior is pretty damming and shows their bias/discrimination toward gay men and toward effeminate heterosexual men as well! Bullying? Yeah. Many of us who grew up in the church in the Deep South know that our plays and musicals would totally suck if it weren’t for gay men in the church making sure that the sets were gorgeous, the costumes were appropriate, and the songs were perfected.

  From a sociological standpoint there are numerous other topics covered. Why is no one talking about Dixie (an adopted child)? How Patty manipulates her best friend? Suicide? Oh yes…so many people were so angry over 13 Reasons Why instead of actually having conversations about suicide prevention. Coming out? Another reason why this show is terrific! Characters are coming out and embracing who they are…Nonnie, Bob, and the other Bob. In a way, even Coralee comes out, as white-trash…hello? Yeah…someone will be pissed I used the term white-trash. Whatever! Bullying? Revenge? Absolutely! Who hasn’t wanted to get revenge on people who made our lives miserable? And, sometimes we actually have a chance and we don’t take it because of social norm expectations! But, sometimes we do, “Bless her heart.”

  This show is about life_ real life_ very messy, funny, crazy, presentation of life. I am also reminded of Goffman’s dramaturgical theory, of Berger & Luckmann’s Social Construction of Reality, as well as the Aristotelian mimesis of art imitates life, and Oscar Wilde’s anti-mimesis of “life imitating art more than art imitating life.” Insatiable does a much better job at real life than soap operas (like Luke and Laura were living a real existence?). 

You go Lauren Gussis for making the characters come to life...all of them. BULLYING HAS CONSEQUENCES and I truly believe this show brings that out in one of the funniest ways possible. Revenge is sweet...well sometimes it is sweet. And one friend told me “after I heard Patty say, ‘screw those bitches’ I was HOOKED!” Nice Deep South Southern Girl who goes to church agrees...and is hooked!

  Critique it if you must, but you are missing life_ real life_ in all of its messiness. As my friend Paul Odom and I agree, we saw a lot of real life intertwined within the series, and recognized storylines that could parallel within our own growing up in the Deep South in a small town in junior high and high school.

  #IheartInsatiable #reallifeismessy #growingupintheDeepSouth #highschoolangst #sociologythemesinNetflix #cantwaitforInsatiableSeason2