cpcoulter-official

[cpcoulter-official]

Happy Mothers Day!

For mothers day, do you have any questions for/about the Dalton moms? :D I'd try to answer them if I can.

[cpcoulter-official]

So happy to see you back posting on tumblr 🤍 and after all this lovely Stuart trio content I’m definitely not okay lol

OMG XD I ❤️ u very much and I am happy to see you too~ ❤️   I will get you guys more content asap  ❤️

[cpcoulter-official]

#AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

BB R U OK XDDDDD

Power Struggle

(I wanna say for the record I didn't wanna post this initially here because of all the -bad words- in it, but apparently it's quite popular among Stuart Trio stans. XD)

“No.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed. And while that was usually something that warned everyone that the territory is getting dangerous, Julian remained unmoved. “No?” Logan repeated.

“No,” Julian replied, flipping the page of the script. “You and Derek can go have dinner. I’m staying here. Slackers don’t get Oscars.”

The laugh that burst out of Logan was one of disbelief. “Staying in here. Again. Julian—” he spread his arms to the bomb site of a room covered in coffee cups and papers that were a quarter academic, a quarter full of fan mail and presents, and an entire half of scripts. “You haven’t left this room since you arrived here!”

Logan and Derek had decided to stage an intervention. Julian had been back at school all of five days and spent four of it holed up in his room alternating between memorizing scripts, drinking frankly illegal amounts of coffee, doing about six video auditions a day, yelling at his people over the phone, answering fan mail, and then the immense schoolwork. They weren’t sure when he actually slept when he ever left the room, and it was getting ridiculous, even for them.

“That’s not true,” Julian replied breezily. “I went out to get coffee, I go to class.”

“And you go right back in here, and you bitch, and you have your theatrics—”

“You are the last person I want to hear about theatrics from.”

Derek responded this time. “And you stress. You’re sitting there stressing about your next movie, your next award show—”

“It’s awards season!” Julian widened his eyes at them like this wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world. “You guys know that, the nominations from SAG, Golden Globes, Oscars—”

“You say Oscar one more time, I’m going to explode,” Logan rubbed his temples and pushed a stack of papers off a chair so he could sit. “It’s ceased to become a word.”

“Don’t touch that, that’s for a superhero movie!” Julian screeched, diving for it. “I’ve had everything here stacked according to priority, okay?”

“And chair means what?” Derek asked incredulously.

“The ones on the chair are “Definitely Consider”,” Julian replied as he cheerfully dusted off the superhero script, looking at it as though it were a baby, “the ones next to you are, “You’re an Idiot if You Don’t Take It”.”

Logan eyed him distrustfully and picked up the top one off the stack next to Derek. It had confidential watermarked all over it. He flipped through it. “...oh geez, is this a Tarantino?”

“Well…” Julian awkwardly shifted back to his spot on the bay window.

“You’re going to take a Tarantino?” Derek burst out, aghast. “Do you know what he does to his actors?!”

“Do you know how many Oscars—”

“That’s it!” Logan exploded, getting up, storming straight up to Julian, who flattened like a cat against the windowpane.

“What, I—LOGAN!!” Julian screamed when the prefect bodily picked him up.

“I’m pulling rank! I’m the prefect and you’re going to get out of this room like a real person and eat some fucking dinner!” Logan retorted, slinging Julian over his shoulder like a hunter carrying a dead deer.

“Logan what the hell?!” Julian kicked and shoved at him even as Logan now strode across the room with him. “Put me down!! Put me down right now, you ass—”

By this time, Stuarts were poking their heads out of their rooms to wonder what the screaming was all about and they watched in wonder as their prefect literally carried the school movie star out of his room, Derek trailing and looking vastly amused.

“Logan!!” Julian yelled, punching his shoulder and nothing was working. “Logan, you can’t just carry me off like I’m some stupid princess—”

“You are a fucking princess and you know it!” Logan shot back, heading for the stairs.

“PUT ME DOWN!!”

“NO.”

“You’re also not taking the Tarantino,” Derek replied calmly, following and gesturing for the others to move along.

“You can’t tell me what to—” Julian yelled upstairs, “Nobody is allowed into my room, all of you leave my fanmail alone!!” He resumed punching Logan.

“Going out?” Bailey asked, part baffled, partly amused, as he held open the front door.

“We’re going to make a real boy out of Pinnochio over here,” Logan grumbled, carrying a still yelling Julian out of the house. “Derek, get the car!!”

“By all means, Your Highness,” Derek rolled his eyes but pulled his keys out.

Panting, Julian glared at Logan, “I will get you for this, Logan, I have an audition in an hour and a half, I better be back by then—LOGAN!” He tried to grab back the phone that the prefect fished out of his pocket with his free hand.

“Thad, catch!”

Thaddeus barely managed it, the phone bouncing like a hot potato in his hands. “What?!”

“If that phone so much as comes within six feet of him, I’m holding you personally responsible,” Logan warned.

“Thad,” Julian warned with the promise of death in his tone, “If you don’t put that phone in my room right now…!”

“I can’t carry this level of responsibility!!” Thad yelled in panic.

The car pulled up while Julian was trying to strangle Logan with his school tie and failing. Logan stuffed the diva into the backseat and slammed the door shut, Derek locking it. “Shut up and be good.”

“I hate you two so much,” Julian grumbled mutinously from the back as Logan climbed shotgun.

“Yes, and you’ll be livid by night's end,” Derek replied cheerfully, eyeing him from the rearview.

Logan turned around and smirked at him in triumph as they pulled away from Stuart. “Mexican?”

Julian glared balefully at him, arms crossed. “...Chinese.”

“Chinese it is.”

:)

[cpcoulter-official]

God I’ve missed you CP 😭🙌💙

Hi, I love and missed you too! <3 <3 <3 

[cpcoulter-official]

Power Struggle

(I wanna say for the record I didn't wanna post this initially here because of all the -bad words- in it, but apparently it's quite popular among Stuart Trio stans. XD)

“No.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed. And while that was usually something that warned everyone that the territory is getting dangerous, Julian remained unmoved. “No?” Logan repeated.

“No,” Julian replied, flipping the page of the script. “You and Derek can go have dinner. I’m staying here. Slackers don’t get Oscars.”

The laugh that burst out of Logan was one of disbelief. “Staying in here. Again. Julian—” he spread his arms to the bomb site of a room covered in coffee cups and papers that were a quarter academic, a quarter full of fan mail and presents, and an entire half of scripts. “You haven’t left this room since you arrived here!”

Logan and Derek had decided to stage an intervention. Julian had been back at school all of five days and spent four of it holed up in his room alternating between memorizing scripts, drinking frankly illegal amounts of coffee, doing about six video auditions a day, yelling at his people over the phone, answering fan mail, and then the immense schoolwork. They weren’t sure when he actually slept when he ever left the room, and it was getting ridiculous, even for them.

“That’s not true,” Julian replied breezily. “I went out to get coffee, I go to class.”

“And you go right back in here, and you bitch, and you have your theatrics—”

“You are the last person I want to hear about theatrics from.”

Derek responded this time. “And you stress. You’re sitting there stressing about your next movie, your next award show—”

“It’s awards season!” Julian widened his eyes at them like this wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world. “You guys know that, the nominations from SAG, Golden Globes, Oscars—”

“You say Oscar one more time, I’m going to explode,” Logan rubbed his temples and pushed a stack of papers off a chair so he could sit. “It’s ceased to become a word.”

“Don’t touch that, that’s for a superhero movie!” Julian screeched, diving for it. “I’ve had everything here stacked according to priority, okay?”

“And chair means what?” Derek asked incredulously.

“The ones on the chair are “Definitely Consider”,” Julian replied as he cheerfully dusted off the superhero script, looking at it as though it were a baby, “the ones next to you are, “You’re an Idiot if You Don’t Take It”.”

Logan eyed him distrustfully and picked up the top one off the stack next to Derek. It had confidential watermarked all over it. He flipped through it. “...oh geez, is this a Tarantino?”

“Well…” Julian awkwardly shifted back to his spot on the bay window.

“You’re going to take a Tarantino?” Derek burst out, aghast. “Do you know what he does to his actors?!”

“Do you know how many Oscars—”

“That’s it!” Logan exploded, getting up, storming straight up to Julian, who flattened like a cat against the windowpane.

“What, I—LOGAN!!” Julian screamed when the prefect bodily picked him up.

“I’m pulling rank! I’m the prefect and you’re going to get out of this room like a real person and eat some fucking dinner!” Logan retorted, slinging Julian over his shoulder like a hunter carrying a dead deer.

“Logan what the hell?!” Julian kicked and shoved at him even as Logan now strode across the room with him. “Put me down!! Put me down right now, you ass—”

By this time, Stuarts were poking their heads out of their rooms to wonder what the screaming was all about and they watched in wonder as their prefect literally carried the school movie star out of his room, Derek trailing and looking vastly amused.

“Logan!!” Julian yelled, punching his shoulder and nothing was working. “Logan, you can’t just carry me off like I’m some stupid princess—”

“You are a fucking princess and you know it!” Logan shot back, heading for the stairs.

“PUT ME DOWN!!”

“NO.”

“You’re also not taking the Tarantino,” Derek replied calmly, following and gesturing for the others to move along.

“You can’t tell me what to—” Julian yelled upstairs, “Nobody is allowed into my room, all of you leave my fanmail alone!!” He resumed punching Logan.

“Going out?” Bailey asked, part baffled, partly amused, as he held open the front door.

“We’re going to make a real boy out of Pinnochio over here,” Logan grumbled, carrying a still yelling Julian out of the house. “Derek, get the car!!”

“By all means, Your Highness,” Derek rolled his eyes but pulled his keys out.

Panting, Julian glared at Logan, “I will get you for this, Logan, I have an audition in an hour and a half, I better be back by then—LOGAN!” He tried to grab back the phone that the prefect fished out of his pocket with his free hand.

“Thad, catch!”

Thaddeus barely managed it, the phone bouncing like a hot potato in his hands. “What?!”

“If that phone so much as comes within six feet of him, I’m holding you personally responsible,” Logan warned.

“Thad,” Julian warned with the promise of death in his tone, “If you don’t put that phone in my room right now…!”

“I can’t carry this level of responsibility!!” Thad yelled in panic.

The car pulled up while Julian was trying to strangle Logan with his school tie and failing. Logan stuffed the diva into the backseat and slammed the door shut, Derek locking it. “Shut up and be good.”

“I hate you two so much,” Julian grumbled mutinously from the back as Logan climbed shotgun.

“Yes, and you’ll be livid by night's end,” Derek replied cheerfully, eyeing him from the rearview.

Logan turned around and smirked at him in triumph as they pulled away from Stuart. “Mexican?”

Julian glared balefully at him, arms crossed. “...Chinese.”

“Chinese it is.”

:)

[cpcoulter-official]

Is Promanade the last ep of Dlaton? When can we expect it to be released?

Nope, not the last ep. :) There’ll be more. But sadly, that means I don’t have a specific time of release.

[cpcoulter-official]

Breathing

It was something about water.

It was something about the sting of chlorine in his nostrils, his lungs burning with the need to breathe, the strain on the muscles as you propelled yourself through matter thicker than air. It was diving into liquid that, if not speared properly, would feel solid upon impact, beating your skin red, flushing air from your chest, white bubbles spiraling to the surface.

Human beings are on average fifty-seven percent water. It differed depending on how old you were. But for most of his life, Danny felt as though he was more than that. Like he was made of so much water that one day he might open his eyes and find that he’d never come up for air.

At the bottom of the pool, you could hear nothing but moving water. Everything was clear and hazy at the same time. A fog of blue, the white floor dappled by the light hitting the surface, which, from down there, looked like a great silvery portal to somewhere else. Someplace Danny would like to not be in every now and again.

A bubble issued from his lips and floated its way up to the silvery world and Danny closed his eyes.

Weightless. Everything felt weightless here.

Danny?

And cool...and soft…

Danny?

He opened his eyes a fraction. Looking into the mirror world over him, he saw a distorted shape, peering into his blue world. It didn’t look familiar to him, and it did at the same time. Maybe it was him getting lightheaded from being underwater so long.

After all, no matter how many stars he wished on when he was little, he never actually did grow gills.

Danny, you okay…?

A hand pushed from the mirror and towards him. He smiled at it, because this, at least, he recognized.

Rope. Lifeline. Tied to a mast, out at sea.

He reached up with his own hand, the dark ink of the word “Courage” so striking against the light, and clasped it. The hand gripped him firmly and pulled him through the looking-glass and back into the light.

Breathing in deep, his lungs eased open to receive the air. The burning in his chest stopped and he blinked into the harsh sunlight, struggling to see through the chlorinated water drops that still clung onto his eyelashes.

There was a familiar laugh from the warm hand that held his wrist. “Hey.”

Danny blinked through the liquid and coughed out a laugh, grinning. Now the voice that had penetrated the water was clearer. And he recognized it easily. “Hey yourself, Wes.”

Wes was crouched at the edge of the school pool, fully clothed in his uniform still, but with the one sleeve rolled up. His tanned hand still curled protectively around his wrist, tight as a rope to the mast. “Up for a really early dinner or a really late lunch? Been awhile. They opened a new sandwich place.”

“You eat common sandwiches now?” Danny smirked, knowing fully well that he did.

“Excuse me, I love sandwiches,” Wes replied, stating facts they both knew. “If done right. And no panini, god help me, but no.”

Danny laughed, shaking his head. “So you came down here, pulled me out of the water for sandwiches?”

“Well…” Wes dragged the syllable out in a lighthearted tone, but Danny saw the slight, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it falter in his smile, “figured you were down there a while enough.”

Danny smiled down at the hand over his wrist. “I like water.”

--

“Danny?! Danny!!”

Frantic hands hauled him out of the claw-foot tub, and he was coughing into the air, alarmed. Hands gripped both his arms and when the fright cleared from his eyes, he saw Wes staring at him, young, wild-eyed, face white as a sheet. Danny stared back at him. “What? What?!”

Wes took several breaths, staring at him, before letting it all out in a breath. “I thought—” he choked. “Sorry, I…”

Danny was momentarily confused, and it wasn’t until Wes released his arms, leaving fingermarks over his shoulders, that he realized why Wes was frightened. He had forgotten himself again, buried deep in the water of the tub, losing the world, so desperate to forget phone calls and divorce talk. Lost in the weightless world, he didn’t need air.

“Sorry—” Wes was still saying, seemingly fighting to get the words out, like he was drowning. “I thought you— I kinda just— I didn’t mean to assume—”

Danny smiled at him, squeezing his hand reassuringly. He didn’t realize what it was like to have someone care when he vanished from the world. “I’m okay,” he told him, hoping he’d understand. “I like water.”

Wes had stared at him, but nodded, the held breath flooding out. “Yeah...yeah, you do, of course… Sorry.”

--

“Sorry,” Wes said, staring at him when he’d gone silent. “I was interrupting you? I can wait while you swim some more if you wanna stay in.”

“Stop saying sorry to me,” Danny rolled his eyes. He pulled himself out of the water and sat on the edge next to him. It didn’t seem to bother Wes that Danny just got some very expensive shoes wet. Danny took a deep breath. “Was in there long enough anyway.”

“You sure…?” Wes looked doubtful. “How do you stay down there so long, anyway? D’you finally learn to breathe underwater?”

Danny laughed. “Nah...if I could, d’you think I’d ever get out again?”

Wes smiled but was unsure. “...would you…?”

The pool water’s surface looked blue, and silver, and gold. Below his knees, the water felt like a different world, his legs still through a mirror that led to a place of safety. A place to get lost in and vanish every once in a while. He couldn’t recognize his reflection on the surface.

He looked at Wes, who had hauled him out every time. Lungs not burning. Not weightless, but lighter. The world in the air was harsher than the haze of the water, too stark, too hot, too bright. But he could breathe.

He nudged him with an elbow, leaving a damp patch on the rolled-up sleeve. ‘Courage’, said the letters on his wrist.

“It’s easier to breathe here.”

[cpcoulter-official]

For people who have no concept of how "expensive" anything is, you sure are taking ages deliberating over that plane ticket purchase.

[cpcoulter-official]

So according to the stats of the recent batch of side-stories... The two most popular or the ones that elicit the most reaction (and yelling 😂) are:

Pluviophile

This is Me Trying

😃 Also, congrats to Ben and Annika who figured out the distances that the title of 150 vs 3,609 refers to! ;)

[cpcoulter-official]

yeah yeah yeah mortifying ordeal of being known and all that but sometimes a friend mentions something about you that you didn’t think was noticeable and it feels like your heart is being cradled in their hands

[cpcoulter-official]

Spoiler warning. Good luck, Windsor.

"Look, people are gonna shoot you down if you ask them to prom, it happens."

"...I just don't get it!"

"...you're not used to being told 'no', are you guys?"

"Plenty of people tell us no."

"Yeah, Charlie tells us that five times a week!"

[cpcoulter-official]

For those who might be unaware:

The said cat that Dolce got for her son is a munchkin cat named Sneakers (because she's got white paws like she's wearing sneakers).

Julian named her, take it up with him.

[cpcoulter-official]

#is John Sr nice to Logan to spite Johnny or?

There is that definite possibility. But as Logan mentions in TPoB, he's...well, he's an investment. A family investment. So he thinks grandpa is fond of him for those reasons.

But there is still that suspicion that maybe grandpa is just being a grandpa and thinks his 'troubled' young grandson is...amusing. XD

re: TPoB and that recent followup snippet...

I just wanted to elaborate a little bit; it would seem that John Wright Sr. isn't quite as rigid as Johnny Jr. :D Popular suspicion is that he may have seen his share of shenanigans in that school during his time... XD

And he seems quite fond of his grandson. :)

[cpcoulter-official]

re: TPoB and that recent followup snippet...

I just wanted to elaborate a little bit; it would seem that John Wright Sr. isn't quite as rigid as Johnny Jr. :D Popular suspicion is that he may have seen his share of shenanigans in that school during his time... XD

And he seems quite fond of his grandson. :)

[cpcoulter-official]

Prom Spoiler Warning

"I don't know, I just..." Reed lowered his eyes, a little embarrassed. "...I wish I could...move like you, you know?"

Shane stared at him, a little startled, and a little warmed. He smiled. "Who says you can't?" he asked, reaching for his hands, and drawing them close to him, as the music began.

[cpcoulter-official]

Hey so, if you read The Politics of Birthdays, this will make sense.

"...sir?" There was some rustling; it sounded like someone trying to make sure the phone was working right, and the old man's voice came back on. "I asked...are you alright?" "Oh." Baffled, Logan had to take a moment. "Yes, I am."

The old man cleared his throat, sounding hoarse as though he had only recently been awakened from slumber. "Johnny said they were, uh...shutting down the school?" "That's--" "Johnny said that he wanted to have that...blasted school shut down." "...yes, sir." There was a pause. "Did you tell him no?" Logan definitely had to look at the caller ID to make sure he was talking to who he thought he was talking to. "Did I what?" "Did you tell him no." He wasn't sure where all this was coming from, and felt vaguely as though he was in danger. Was his grandfather about to disown him for what they had done at the barricade? It made Logan pause, wondering if this level of insubordination was the one that got him deported to another country, but he knew that there was really no point in lying about anything like that; not if the Senator had already spoken to him. "Yes, I...I told him no." Logan braced himself. "I told him I wasn't going to let him or the others shut down the school. We did. All of us." Another brief moment of consideration. "...did you tell him to go to hell?" "What?! No!" Logan nearly yelled, aghast. "I didn't--" A derisive laugh. "Shame. You should've." "...excuse me?" "Good for you. Put your father on the phone."

[cpcoulter-official]

Hey, you guys wanna see a voicemail sent to someone who doesn't answer texts? :D

"Yeah, it's... me again. Uh, honestly I don't...know why I keep leaving you these things it's not like you have any plans to answer. ...I get it, look--I get it, I do. But... even if you don't...feel like answering any of these, just... It'd be good to know how you're doing. ...listen, I... You don't owe me any...closure or whatever that word is supposed to mean. Honestly I...I don't think I want one. I'm not... Well, you know the kind of person I am. ...I'm not good with...finishing things. And...all I'm saying is... I'm not good at letting go. You know that, I know that, and I'm not saying it's a good thing either just... ...I just... I hope you're...still there."