#janemund

[scribbledbyhand]

S7E14

@corpyburd @shutterbug-12

[scribbledbyhand]

A little motivating Janemund edit by me for @shutterbug-12

( I was experimenting with filters ... It’s not bad also if Edmund looks very serious ... maybe he is worried about Jane‘s reputation or he‘s not happy about Jane‘s idea to shafe his chest hair ... She definitely has fun. 😁)

[scribbledbyhand]

Who needs a bit Ripper Street fanart? ... This time - unusual for me - Jane and Edmund ... digital pencil ...

I tried this pictures several times with less success. I found the results always not very satisfying. The source picture is dark and the lighting not good to see exact details. But this time it’s OK, I think.

[jazyjazban]

Ripper Street | A Short Story

Wrote this a few nights past, not sure about it really - just a Janemund fanatic 3/4/15 Edmund Reid and Jane Cobden: A Winter Tryst Detective Inspector Edmund Reid sprinted up the Obsidian Estates furnished, oak wooden stairs with speed and grace as usual. It was past eight in the evening, and a slippery sheet of soft white snow masked the filthy streets of Whitechapel. It was Christmas season so you were highly likely to see your typical man and woman strolling arm in arm, giggling and tumbling all over the place - imprinting the snow with their heeled shoes and once sparkling leather boots. For many, Christmas was the time for gifting those you love and spending time with those you love. Unfortunately the common persona belonging to these statements were drink or prostitutes, there seemed to be a pub and Brothel on every corner of the ever-narrowing town. Despite Whitechapel’s many downfalls, it’s 1892 and Edmund Reid, the famous Inspector of Leman Street was content and always looked forward to this particular time of year. As he calmly approached the door of Councillor Jane Cobden’s office he swiftly adjusted his attire, the simple but effective dark green shaded suit, a similar waistcoat, a buttoned white shirt, shined black leather shoes and a matching neck tie tucked neatly into the top of his waistcoat. Along with the finishing touch of a mini Metropolitan Police badge pinned onto the centre of his tie. Presentable, on time and feeling wholesome he finally raised his right hand and knocked gently on the door he had stood in front of for the past five minutes (at least). Seconds later a tender voice answered with the words “Enter.” Edmund opened the door and immediately his senses were embraced with the sweet smell of vanilla, an extremely rare fragrance for his nose to remember as it was not yet available commercially in England, or Europe for that matter. Jane was, as always, sitting at her desk surrounded by paperwork, its as if she produced it herself as more appeared every time. Nevertheless, she raised her head and smiled humbly at Edmund, who seemed to be admiring her and her amalgamation of books that seemed so eager to be read. “I see your work keeps you busy as ever.” Edmund smiled faintly and leisurely wandered to get a closer look at the immense amount of work Jane was completing. He was invariably delighted almost when Jane had new work, just one of the many things why he enjoyed spending time with her when he could - in very plain speak they were both serious workaholics and this made them an expert match. Edmund now stood beside Jane, who was still sorting and shuffling sheets of paper all about the place. Only then did he notice the red rawness of her hands and the strain of little sleep in her previously tranquil, autumn iris’s, even her breathing seemed slightly tormented by her lack of rest. At once Edmund placed his hand over hers, stopping her ability to ink another word onto the page or the page after that. “You have done a sufficient amount Jane, have you not?” The words seemed to hang in the air before lowering to the correct level for a reply. Jane gave off a minor sigh “Every page I seem to sign off, three more appear in its place. As if my work is not adequate enough!” Her voice seemed to crack and snap a little more then usual “I have worked at a constant rate since the night before this one and still I am neither finished nor near finished. I fear I will deteriorate first before this work overcomes me Edmund.” Then she lifted her head, almost a challenge in itself, her eyes full of distress and yearning for some sort of escape - if one at all. Be as that may, Edmunds handsome and gradually maturing face creased mildly, he said nothing for his expressions so kindly did that for him. Jane’s eyebrows curved into the peculiar shape of confusion. “Do you not speak? Do you not say a word? Edmund, as much as I enjoy your company please do not tease me with child games. If you have something to say, please by all means, speak of it.” Her voice spoke with exhaustion, yet a hint of happiness, a hint of relief that she may have an appropriate distraction from her endless work. However instead of offering Jane even the slightest amount of condolence, Edmund lent down and kissed her compassionately. Just then silence seemed to hold the room and for a moment, there was peace inside the Obsidian Estate establishment. As his hand caressed her delicate face Jane finally rose from her seat on which she was sitting on for what must have felt like a century, her arms now round his neck, his on her waist. They rarely kissed so passionately, in fact, they barely kissed at all. It seemed for when their lips touched everything became motionless, the world around them seemed to freeze into an image instead of a movie and their minds forgot about troubles and work most especially. After they managed to remove each of themselves from one another Jane spoke “Detective Inspector you must give me some warning in the future, for I worry I may swoon into a sleep if you catch me this spent!” She chuckled, almost embarrassed, her hands now rest on his shoulders but she remained close to his chest, Edmund always felt so warm and pleasant - you certainly feel blessed when he is holding you this close. Edmund raised one eyebrow “Miss Cobden, you may not see as I do, it seems as long as you have such beauty it will be difficult for any man - most definitely myself - to not want to do the same forever more.” The serenity in his voice was soothing and his expressions were the same, compared to the flustered Miss Cobden to say such a kiss was spontaneous would be a mistake. Edmund then laughed, fulfilled, he raised his hand once more to touch Jane’s cheek - a movement and feeling only a lover could describe. The truth was they had never been so excessively at ease when the other was within reach. They appeared to gaze earnestly at each other for hours. The window at the other end of the room gave view to the frosty, wintery flurry of snow that sat so elegantly upon any object. The night was perfect. Nothing could disturb them, nothing could get to them, they were alone but far from lonely. Whereupon Jane uttered the words she spoke after their first embrace. “Shall we?” Her eyes fluttered like the wings of a butterfly and she took Edmunds hand into hers. He looked at her with such a huge beam of affection it lit up the room, as well as almost magically making the strain in Jane’s eyes disappear, the un-rest that had first smothered the room was anew with the familiar aroma of vanilla. It was Christmas and this year, not everyone wasted money and time on drink and women. This time it was cherished with the ones closest to our hearts. Lastly Edmund carefully put aside a small frizz of hair that was waving in front of Jane’s face, she was a beautiful women he thought. They clasped hands tightly and the night met its fate. The snow fell and new beginnings had arisen, for once there was a droplet of hope in the treacherous streets of Whitechapel. Merry Christmas everyone. Original: 3/4/15