#Beautiful Bostonian

[verypersonalscreencaps]

Top 5 First-Time Watches of March 2023 1. Triangle Of Sadness (2022, dir. Ruben Östlund) 2. Le Lycéen (2022, dir. Christophe Honoré) 3. All The Beauty and The Bloodshed (2022, dir. Laura Poitras) 4. Mon Crime (2023, dir. François Ozon) 5. The Bostonians (1984, dir. James Ivory) "You can't be rich, and expect the rest of the world to be poor. And while you're swimming in abundance, the rest of the world is drowning in misery. That's not the way it's meant to be."

[maybe-boys-do-love]

Only Friends: BL's Parliamentary Tragedy

Okay, but Jojo's take-down on twitter of the person criticizing Thai BLs' gay representation because of their inclusion of sexuality + the fact that it's Only Friends one year anniversary is getting to me! Because, for Jojo and his team, the issue of sexuality in BL is at the very Only Friends!!! That's what the antagonism between Mew and Boston is all about!!!

Mew at the start is the very SYMBOL of BL history and tropes that the twitter commenter is admiring. He's pure and chaste, and he has the glasses to prove it. He loves romance books because they're about love that's deeper than sex. He's in for the long game, and doesn't want to waste his virginity on anything less than lifelong perfection and the happiest ending.

Meanwhile, Boston is the paragon of queer media's history. Just pure 'no day but today' immediate sensual experience and satisfaction. To show off that he knows his queer history, he's got his film photography dark room to develop all his artistic nudes, a regular Robert Mapplethorpe. If that's not anti-establishment queer enough, anyone in a relationship inspires Boston's lustful antagonism because that would mean they think that life should be deeper than the surface, and that's a sin against Boston's aestheticism. Beauty for beauty's sake only; sex for sex's sake--nothing deeper nor longer-lasting. A love story is a worst-case scenario.

But then Top and Nick come along and mess up Boston and Mew's perfectly amiable division. We should've seen it coming. The very title of the show tells us this is a show about inclusion and exclusion, who's in and who's out--in coupling and in friend circles. There's that random crown in the title sequence; this is a show of parliamentary political jostling of parties to claim power. The little motif of Boeing and his plane trinket sprinkled across the entirety of the series before his introduction in the last two episodes, hints about the coup that finally comes to send someone out.

Boston's name should have given it away that he couldn't stay, but that name's also his saving grace, a sign that maybe that beautiful slut actually escaped the prison of Thai BL branded partnerships. Boston, after all, is the kind of marriage that lesbian women practiced prior to any licensed gay marriage. The Bostonians is also the name of the novel by Henry James, an author whose queerness is the type that historians find it hard to put a finger on, for which Boston marriages are named. And The Bostonians was adapted by the non-monogamous gay film-making couple Merchant & Ivory (the team that brought, among other acclaimed films, brought the queer story of Maurice to the screen, whose protagonist gets his happy-ending by running away).

Yes, Boston was slimy and slippery, but he had a need to escape definitions that Mew, who grew up inside his own BL bubble with his supportive lesbian moms, never had. Boston's dad was a politician who wanted improvement for his country, according to his campaign poster, and was someone the youth could be into, according to his son (and for all his faults, Boston was never much for lying). Although he didn't know about what happened regarding the gender of people deeper beneath Boston's sheets, this dad accepted his son for his promiscuity and passion for the arts, in other words, for who his son was. Still, the political aspect limited who Boston could document himself as in Thailand (and Boston's 1998 t-shirt when we first meet his father speaks to political connections about the complicated emergence of Thailand's democratic state and the first democratically elected prime minister to serve a full-term who similarly went into exile). So Boston focuses on the feelings and experiences of queerness he can garner because naming it isn't something that's promised or even preferable for him.

In someone with digital savvy like Nick, Boston discovers the potential for the appreciation of discretion, someone who can help him integrate his love for fleeting moments with more long-term connection. (You know, how the internet transformed photographs into tools for social connection rather than just for private albums or high art?) Yet even Nick's digital tastes, boundary-crossing as they might be, can't find comfort beyond monogamy. Boston can't find happiness for his boundless sexuality within the confines of the Thai BL's settings.

Mew, our sweet BL cinnamon bun, would've been Boston's complete opposite if he hadn't have been persuaded to have his visual and emotional impairment corrected by the realities of queerness Boston introduced him to (a fantastic subversion of the BL boy no longer needing their glasses). Instead, Mew has to contend with feelings for a real gay man who has a sexual past, lust, and fucked up habits from a life that hasn't been perfect. Even then, Top's still a pretty classic romantic alpha-male romcom interest. But Only Friends, having removed Mew's literal and figurative blinders, let's him process that as well as any real-life, self-righteous, purity-ring wearing princess would. Mew as Harley Quinn is just short of digging his keys into the side of his pretty little souped-up four wheel drive, and he is reveling in using his bff Ray's crush on him to get revenge. The fluffy BL castle on a cloud comes tumbling down when it encounters actual queerness.

But Only Friends lives in a BL world. The branded pairs must remain the branded pairs, and Boston, despite his conniving gaze, always seemed more confused by the politicking than everyone else at club YOLO, anyways. Every character and every actor has played their roles to their purpose, giving us three theories of love and their allowance within a BL. Topmew's tenuous romcom energy persists by force, Sandray's addictive and codependent romance with all its desperate struggles and tears will remain (though everyone's concerned its unhealthy), and Bostonnick's queer tendencies, with their carnal, discrete, and digital predilections, must be banished by the final scene. But they haunt the Only Friends hostel (or should we say hostile) even when they're not there. They're the people behind the lens and behind the screen that frame everything. They are the queer urges that both make possible and, as another man walks into the room--in that undeniably provocative form of Mix Sahaphap--threaten the gay happy ending.

When I say Only Friends is one of my favorite series, it's because I think this commentary of BL is the story it was telling from the beginning, and Jojo's twitter rant just affirmed that for me. I see Aof Noppharnach as the romantic optimist of Thai BL queer possibilities. He saw how they could be utilized to tell utopic queer stories. His friend and collaborator Jojo is not cynical but his works often serve to question and prod the genre about its extents and limits. Only Friends performs this prosecution through Shakespearean tragedy ala Julius Caesar, and the contentious reactions of fans stands as a testament to its interrogation about queer sexuality's acceptability within the BL realm.

------------------------

I promised I'd tag my fellow Boston apologist @waitmyturtles when I finally posted this. I have a draft of this started that's more academic and thorough, but this is the basic idea of it all.

[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want moodboard (jake seresin x plus size!reader)

"We've lived together for months, and I've been deep in it, beautiful." - Jake Seresin

I'm not the greatest at moodboards but I felt a need to try 😊

The One I Want tag list:

@elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @tgmavericklover @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @tngrace @emma8895eb @mamaskillerqueen @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @entertainmentalgal8 @hookslove1592 @whoeverineedtobe @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things @turtle-in-a-tornado @have-a-nice-day-k @inkandarsenic @kidd3ath @coldmuffinbanditshoe @rae-you-gotta-be-kidding-me @appledressing @jenniferpendragon @tempt-ress @swiftsgirlfriend @luxebeautystyle @yukosworld @ash5monster01 @mongoosesthings @whatislovevavy @missymisha @shellbilee @marantha @alexa4040 @apollos-arc @sarahwasfound @gg-trini @i-came-as-bostonian

[brnesblogposts]

lost dogs and chance meetings

pairing chris evans x reader

reblogs appreciated if you liked it :)

———————-

Your family had decided to take a trip to New York, you had been a few times before as your parents had friends there. At the time you were young and blissfully unaware of the celebrity world, it was different now, people were always running into celebrities on the streets in the US. New York is home to many, as well as a hotstpot for work in the industry. You didn’t luck out however, but your trip in the US wasn’t over just yet.

Your family had decided to take a trip up to Massachusetts, to stay in a log cabin for the weekend. Being the huge Chris Evans fan that you are you insisted they stop to look around Boston, not only because you loved visiting new places, but a small part of you hoped you’d run into the Bostonian man himself.

You stopped at a restaurant for some lunch after driving up to Boston, Not too long of a drive but enough to make you hungry, you felt a bit carsick after the journey so announced you were just popping out for some air, “Won’t be too long” you stated. you decided on a short walk to calm down the nausea you felt.

You stood there wide eyed, the hound was staring you down as you looked at him perplexed. Surely not. There’s no way Dodger Evans was standing on the pavement across from you. It looked like him, you decided to go up to him seeing as this possible Dodger lookalike seemed friendly, Dodger or not their owner must’ve been frantic about their puppy’s whereabouts. The tag read “Dodger” and your eyes shot up wide “OH MY GOD.” your inner voice spoke, you flipped the tag over and surely enough there was a phone number, Chris Evans’ phone number. You took out your phone with trembling hands.

Writing out the message, “Hello, is this Dodgers owner? I found him wondering by himself and I have a feeling he’s lost” you sent it.

“Could you send me a photo of him? possibly with you, so i know this isn’t a scam.”

An odd request, but considering his status a valid one.

you took a photo of Dodger, half your face in it, of course you wanted Chris to know he was safe. You sent it with a message reading “He looks completely fine! no sign of injury or anything, just missing his dad I think.“ you sent it not thinking and then it occurred to you “dad”, he’s going to know you know who he is.

His body relaxed. Chris had taken Dodger to the park and got too distracted in conversing with an old friend to notice Dodger had got out. As soon as he did though, his chest felt tight and breathing heavy. Who knows how long Dodger had been wondering for, or if he had been picked up. He began searching, texting Scott and his sisters, to let them know. Soon enough there was a search party for Dodger.

Chris’s phone pinged. The text read “Hello, is this Dodgers owner? I found him wondering by himself and I have a feeling he’s lost” his body instantly relaxed, until it didn’t. This could be a scam, someone has somehow found Dodger and known who he belonged to they’ve taken the number from the tag and continued on. “Could you send me a photo of him? possibly with you, so i know this isn’t a scam.” without hesitation he responded. He needed to know Dodger was okay and whoever this was had his best interest at heart. The person had responded within seconds.

A sigh of relief escaped his mouth, Dodger is okay. His rescuer was.. beautiful.

“Thank you, could you send me your location? want to reunite with my boy ASAP”

You sent your location and a message to put his mind at ease, “I’ve given him some water from my bottle, poor guy was thirsty, we’re in the shade waiting now”

That made him feel better, you obviously cared about animals, and definitely had Dodgers best interest at heart. You were only a few blocks from him so he jogged, within a few minutes he saw Dodger and you at the end of the street at a bus stop.

You tried your best to keep your cool. Yes you were a fan, but you found his dog. You saw him in the distance running down the street and anxiety struck you, you pushed it aside.

Dodger instantly recognised his dad and ran into his arms as Chris knelt down to greet him, “Hi bubba! don’t ever do that again.” your heart melted at the greeting, you know if it was your own dog back home you would be a complete mess. After a good long reunion Chris looked up at you.

“Hi, Thank you, Thank you. You wouldn’t believe how worried I was when I noticed he’d got out of the park” he spoke, out of breath, considering he had just run 5 blocks. You stood there for a second, trying to compose a calm and collected response so as to not freak him out. “Of course! I have a dog back home and would hope someone would do the same thing if he got out” He smiled at your sympathising.

————————————————————————-

[theetherealbloom]

UNEVEN ODDS — CH. 2

Chapter Two: Roll Up Your Sleeves

Summary: The Reader is dragged into the Last of Us universe and has no choice but to watch the events unfold or will she be able to change what was already written?

Paring: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Age-gap Romance, Violence, Angst, Fluff, Guns, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Swearing, Reader wants to sacrifice herself, Zombies, eventual SMUT, MY SCIENCE IS WONKY, probable plot holes, rusty writing

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: Holy shit there are so many of you sjdfhgsk AHHHH thank you so much for all the notes and comments, I appreciate it! Here’s a little bit of info for you to understand a little bit of my thought process. In my outline, the reader is an Enneagram Type 9: The Peacekeeper. (This helps me add a little bit of depth to you so I don’t feel entirely lost when writing) if she seems “passive” or “complacent” it’s cause she wants everything to go smoothly and be without conflict. I’d like to believe there’s a little part of us that prefer to avoid tension, due to the fear of loss and separation from the people or things you love. I’ll go a little bit more in-depth about this in the story as it progresses. Hope you enjoy!

Song: evermore (feat. bon iver) by Taylor Swift

Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

TLOU WORLD – 2023

BOSTON - NOON

You walk along the ruins of a long-abandoned Boston with an overpowering sense of dread. It feels like the build-up of a song in which you know the tune, the lyrics, and the beat. Strings of violins, drums, and bells ring and thump in your mind, unwanted and uncaring of how you feel. This curse of knowledge you never asked for but which you carry follows you as the four of you approach the Bostonian Museum. Creeper vines and Cordyceps grow on the sides of the building, marked by conspicuous veins and all-consuming every red brick of this once-beautiful structure.

The four of you stand outside the entrance of the museum. Cordyceps consume every part of the foundation, Ellie tilts her head to look up at it appalled, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You stand next to Joe, using your hand to rub your right eye, and mumble, “Shit.”

“Well, there’s a way across from the top floor,” Tess says while moving to place her hands in the pockets of her pants. Ellie sarcastically replies, “Well, then I guess it’s fine.” Tess reassures her by adding, “We use to take it all the time.”

Ellie answers, “Okay.” Joel leaves your side and approaches a dry vein of the Cordyceps, removing the rifle he stole from the FEDRA guard, he crouches and touches a part of it to check if it was still active. He swings downward, hits the vein with the butt of the gun, and a puff of dust releases from the dead fungi, he stands to walk over to Tess, “It’s bone dry. It could mean they’re all finally dead in there.”

Tess nods, then they both kneel to prepare their flashlights and weapons, just in case. You and Ellie watch them both rummage through their backpacks, “Oh, man,” the kid mutters.

Joel whips out a flashlight and waves it at Ellie, “Marlene pack you one of these or just sandwiches?” She removes her backpack, “Yeah,” and pulls out her flashlight. Joel looks to you, “Catch, hummin’ bird.” That was the only warning he gave you before tossing you the flashlight, “Luckily, I have a spare.”

You’re short of breath as you hear the nickname he gave you. Miraculously, caught it with both hands, and without even thinking you wink, “Thanks, cowboy.” Thankfully, no one says anything about your quip directed at him.

“Okay, so… more ground rules.” Tess announces and turns to Ellie,  “We’re gonna go slowly. If we come up against anything you get behind us and you stay there, okay?” The young girl nods and wears her backpack, “Yes.” Tess brings out her handgun and flashlight, positioning her hands in a way that she can use both. Ellie glances at the gun she’s holding, “I have a spare hand.”

Joel is unamused by what she is insinuating, dryly replies, “Congratulations.” He walks forward with determination, he pokes his head through the door to do an initial check before turning around to nod at the three of you to signal it’s clear. Reluctantly, you follow them inside, your mind has kicked into overdrive, trying to figure out a way to get past this with zero casualties. If you sacrifice yourself, would that change the ending? Would it buy Tess a little more time? This might be your grand attempt to do something right and kind without assurance, without the promise of an afterlife.

Flashlights dance and shine around the walls of the abandoned museum, you watch your step and try to calm the beating of your heart as you look at the artifacts left behind. You navigate through the hallways and come across a corpse of an infected deceased. Joel shines his flashlight on the fungi, “Yeah, cooked.” Tess exhales, “Finally, some fucking luck.” Ellie steps a little closer to investigate the remains of what was once human, Joel continues, “I guess we should’ve gone this way in the first place.”

You were so caught up in trying to ground yourself in the reality of all of this, that this is actually happening, that you forgot to at least warn them about the Clickers they were about to face in a couple of moments. Just as Ellie was about to turn a corner, you whisper loudly to her, “Ellie wait!”

Too fucking late. “Oh shit,” Ellie exclaims with wide eyes, and Joel makes a move to inspect what she found. A dead bruised, bloodied, young man slouched against the corner. Ellie’s eyes were full of shock, “What the fuck did that?”

Joel and Tess look at each other knowingly, and you finally decide to speak up, for her and theirs, “Whatever you’re about to say or hope for, don’t bother.” The three of them turn to look at you and you decide to continue in an audible whisper, “I wasn’t sure if I could or should warn you, but we need to stay quiet from now on.” You gather your courage to look directly at Joel with an unwavering stare, “It’s exactly what you suspect it is.”

“Are you saying an infected did that?” Ellie whispers to the three adults, and she resumes, “Because I’ve been attacked by one and it wasn’t like that.” Joel looks at you and he can see the way your face twists, your lips curled downwards, and your eyes show your remorse and guilt, he whispers to everyone, “Okay, from this point forward we are silent. Not quiet. Silent.” Ellie looks at him concerned and confused, “What?” But Joel shakes his head, “No. No questions. Just do it.”

This is it. You think to yourself as you will your feet to move, continuing, you follow Joel and Ellie up the stairs with Tess trailing behind. You remember when you could cover your eyes to the scary moments of the show, you could press pause, or fast forward, not needing to witness and feel the distress and panic.

The quiet creak of each floorboard of the steps as your boots land on the rotting wood, it groans all of your weight and dust falls from the ceiling. You all stop silently, waiting for any indication of an infected discovering that all of you were in the museum. After a moment, Joel looks back at you, a silent way of asking if it’s okay, you throw him a bone and give him a tiny spoiler, then you nod at him. And all four of you continue up the stairs.

As you make the first landing of the steps, you shine your flashlight to meet a horrifying view. Multiple corpses of people who were infected with Cordyceps lay on the wooden floors. It’s unspeakable and all-consuming, the silence overwhelms your system, there is a sudden tightness in your chest, and feel a part of your mask slip, your eyes shift and move to look at the pile of bodies. Organs and parts that were once human, were scooped out and transformed into fungi.

Your mouth opens silently, quivering as you do, and you lightly shake your head. Joel steps over the rotting fungi, just as you were about to grab Ellie and warn her about what she couldn’t see, you were too late. Again. A satisfying crunch could be heard throughout the building and you squeeze your eyes shut in fear for a moment then you reopen them. Joel whips around to look at Ellie with annoyance, the kid gives him an apologetic look.

Thankfully, you managed to make it up the steps with no more issues. Joel slowly opens the door to Independence Hall, and the wood gives a quiet creak. He quickly scans the area before deciding to nod at all of you, telling you it’s clear.

With your foresight and knowledge of events that had already happened in your time, you decide to act accordingly and give a hard shove to both Tess and Ellie inside the Hall and quickly follow after, gravity takes place and parts of the museum collapse, pieces of wood and cement block the doors. You were trapped.

Tess and Ellie push themselves off the ground, but you take a little longer to get up. You scraped your arms and hands, and the pain in your head came back. Joel quickly and quietly helps Ellie up then realizes you haven’t moved yet. He immediately makes his way to you, lightly shaking you to get up, you blink back the blurry black spots that are forming in your eyes and stand up with his help, both of his hands on the underside of your forearms.

You squint and slowly look up at him, and for what felt like a second, you see the worry that lines his face. Concern and need to protect you, even though you’re just a stranger. The moment doesn’t last long, you hear the familiar sound of screeching in the room adjacent to you. Flashlights shine in the direction of the noise and you hold your breath as all of you walk backward, keeping your eyes on the monster that emerges from the shadows. The twitchy movements are followed by the croaky noises of the infected, it tries to navigate, searching for its next prey. And on queue, the other Clicker screeches, indicating that there are two of them. This is no longer a museum, it’s a fucking horror house and all of you are in for the worst experience of your life.

You are now surrounded by predators, and prey, playing a twisted game of hide and seek. You press your back against the glass of the cabinet, Tess to your right, Ellie to your left, and Joel being the farthest left. He gestures to his eyes and ears, quietly mouthing, “They can’t see, but they can hear.”

The creature groans and croaks, clicking sounds from its throat. It’s right behind the glass, your eyes drift to the monster and see its jerky movements. You bring your eyes to look at Joel, he lifts his pointer finger to his lips, indicating to be incredibly still and silent. Fear is the darkness and the unknown, a hard-to-shake feeling, it overstays its welcome and leaves you panting.

Tess watches the monster make its way around the corner, limping and shaky. Ellie closes her eyes to try and control her breathing, and you get yourself ready for the fight you never wished for. ‘Why is it always so fucking dark?’ You wonder inside your head, The Clicker comes into view, and you hear an audible gasp come from Ellie. Shit.

The creature turns in your direction at full tilt, mouth wide open with its yellowing teeth, and gives the loudest high-pitch screech. Joel sprays bullets into the Clickers’ chest, but it fights back, he looks in your direction and yells out, “Run!”

The second clicker begins to sprint toward you and Tess shoots at it but the bullet misses. Tess grabs Ellie by the arm and drags her away, while you run with them. The four of you get separated, Tess trips and so do you and Ellie, she yells out to tell her, “Run… Run!”

Ellie crawls her under a table and finds her way out, while the Clicker runs after Tess. You are now at a crossroads, Joel is running at the other end of the exhibit while Tess heads in the opposite direction. You swiftly make a split-second decision and duck, right behind Ellie under the table, however, you do not crawl away, instead, you wait for the Clicker to run by you and quietly get up to follow after Tess. This is your chance to make things right, to ensure she doesn’t get bitten. Will this cost you your life?

You grab an ax hanging from the wall and run to the other side of the room, you hold it with both hands and feel the sweat coating your skin. You turn a corner and see Tess pinned up against the wall, the creature feasting on her neck, your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach, and you let out a scream, “No!”

The creature quickly turns and shrieks at you, angry for interrupting its meal, now it begins sprinting towards you, and the adrenaline pumps into your bloodstream and system. The anger starts to flare in your chest, the silence grows louder along with the ringing in your ears. You stand unwavering and with the courage that has been asleep for so long, it awakens at the right time.

Aiming directly at its head, you throw the axe with everything you have. It lands on a portion of its mushroom-infected face. Yet, it only slows the creature down a second, screaming and swinging its long mutated arms, and tries to locate you, but, it hears the commotion in the other room, loud pops of a revolver can be heard and you assume it’s Joel killing the other Clicker.

The abomination of what once was human turns and screeches at Joel and Ellie, it scampers towards them and you feel the pulse in your veins like a fighter, you fight the fear and let the rush take over, you sharply glance at the handgun Tess had dropped during the chaos and without hesitation, you pick it up and pray it still has some bullets in the chamber.

This was a skill you wished you never had to use. All those days in the range were just a precaution, the world is not kind to women, and you learned to protect yourself just in case. It meant only using a gun when you or the people you loved were in danger.

Using one hand, you swiftly remove the safety with your thumb, aim, and shoot at the head of the Clicker. With three loud pops and then a fourth one for good measure, the monster falls to its knees and on the ground.

Dead.

Blood oozes from the infected’s head, and you stand there watching the crimson splatter grow larger. Tess appears from the archway and takes in the vision before her. You turn to aim the gun at her, your fight instincts kick in, still high from the adrenaline, and you stand there breathing heavily.

Joel yells out your name. You blink once, then twice. A beat passes, and you don’t register Joel approaching you in a calm slow manner, his arm stretched out with his palm facing you, treating you as if you were a frightened animal, now he places his hand on top of yours, a touch so gentle you barely register it. Carefully and steadily he takes away the gun in your hand and turns the safety on before handing it to Tess, which she slowly takes, while you let it happen.

Your vision is blurry and tries to swallow away your guilt. You were too late. You couldn’t save her. Joel says your name again, he’s in front of you now, his frame covering and protecting Tess, but he has replaced the gun you once held, with his hand. Ellie watches the events unfold from the side, not wanting to create any more noise or movement. He squeezes your hand and whispers, “It’s okay… It’s okay.”

It’s not, but his voice brings you back anyway. You look to Tess, your eyes full of sorrow, and your voice quivers as you speak, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Tess nods knowingly, she swallows her pride and sadness to say, “It’s okay. You tried… um, thank you.”

Her words completely snap out of your trance, and you see the world a little clearer now. You nod back at her, then bring your eyes to Joel, who is still holding your hand. His eyes dance around, observing and taking note of every detail of your face. You’re the first to break the staring contest, realizing that Tess doesn’t have a lot of time. You step back away from him, dropping his hand, “We should get going.”

Joel turns to Tess, “You all right?” She nods, “Twisted ankle, but yeah.” She limps over to Ellie, ��You all right?”

“Well, I didn’t shit my pants, so…” Ellie says and pulls up the sleeve of her jacket to reveal a bite from the infected. “You fucking kidding me?” she exclaims and turns to look at Joel, “I mean if it was going to happen to one of us.”

Tess stays silent at that, glancing at you to keep your mouth shut. You give a discreet nod in response, Tess calls out to Joel, “Hey. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Joel pushes the window up and opens, stepping out onto the roof, Ellie follows and you do too, leaving Tess for last, who plops down to rest her ankle, “Fuck.”Joel kneels and opens his pack to give Ellie a bandage, “Put this around your arm.” She takes it and says, “Thanks.” You watch as Ellie makes her way to a wooden plank, makeshift bridge, “Over there?” Joel glances over while continuing to fuss over Tess, “Yeah, I know it looks scary.”

“That was scary. This is wood.” Ellie states and proceeds to walk across the wood plank to get to the other building’s roof. Joel watches in disbelief and hollers, “Just wait there. Give us a minute.” He turns to look at you, “Can you go make sure she’s…” You only nod, knowing that Joel and Tess need to talk, you look at the wood plank they call a bridge and mumble to yourself, “If the way I die is falling from a high place, so be it.” 

You walk across with no problem and catch up to Ellie, “Hey,” you say as you stand by her and take in the view. “What happened to you back there?” Ellie asks, the wind blowing strands of hair away from her face. You huff, “I don’t know. The adrenaline took over, I guess.”

You both stand in silence now, then you can hear the heavy footsteps of Joel walking up to the right of Ellie, she merely glances at him and then turns back to see the State House in the distance, glittering under the sunlight. “Is it everything you hoped for?” Joel asks her, Ellie blinks but answers him, “Jury’s still out. But, man you can’t deny that view.”

You hear Tess approaching from behind, eager to keep moving, “Come on, let’s get there before it’s dark.” She turns and then climbs a ladder down, letting out a groan of pain no one question or brings up. Joel nods at Ellie to follow Tess which he does, you look at Joel as Ellie climbs down. And you held his gaze for a moment, then look to his broken watch, before climbing down after the young kid.

Leaves crunch with every step you take, Tess lightly limping ahead, she turns to look at you, and you could only stare back. Tess looks straight ahead once more, and you can’t help but wonder about the violence of the dog days and what could get you through this. You see the State House from a distance, a hauntingly beautiful sight, creeper vines growing on the pillars and sides of the edifice.

The group decides to hide behind an abandoned car near the state house, and immediately could tell that something was very wrong, “Where the fuck are they?” Tess harshly states, Joel, shakes his head and decides to go check the truck parked outside by the steps of the ruined State House.

Joel walks over cautiously to the door of the truck, he swings it open to aim his rifle at it, only for the seats to be empty. Joel sees the blood splattered on the sides of the door, and turns to mouth at you all, “Stay back.” He rounds the side of the truck and notices a recently deceased, he continues to the back of the truck, swinging the giant blue metal doors, to confront no one.

You follow Ellie and Tess as she demands, “Joel, what the fuck is going on?” Joel shakes his head, “I don’t know.”

No longer wanting to play along, you look down to see a trail of blood up the steps and into the State House, you hear someone call your name, but say nothing as you walk up to the doors of the building. You push your way through, briskly walking to the center of the structure, and you take a good look at the multiple dead people scattered on the ground. You shake your head and close your eyes, “Fuck.”

You hear the three come in after you and they notice immediately what happened, Tess goes into a panic, “Okay. I mean there’s gotta be a fucking radio or something, right?” She proceeds to open the kit boxes that contain nothing but supplies, searching for anything that could help them win.

“Who killed them? FEDRA?” Ellie asks, and you reply, “No,” you nod to the man on the ground, Joel rolls him over with his boot and you continue, “One of them got bit. The healthy ones fought the sick ones. Everyone lost.”

Joel’s nostrils flared as he stared at you, “You knew? You knew and didn’t even bother to warn us that this was all for nothin’?” You raised your chin, “They were already dead hours before we got here.” His jaw clenched while you stood, fists clenched by your sides, and rolled your shoulders back, glaring at Joel.

Joel calls out to Tess, “Tess, what are you doing?” She ignores him and approaches Ellie, “Where did Marlene say that she was taking you?” Ellie responds unsure, “Uh, I don’t know. Just west.”

“Just west. Fuck. okay. Well, I mean, one of them’s gotta have a map on them, right?” Tess then goes to search one of the deceased Firefly’s pockets, “Joel, can you help me?”

“No.” He fumed, “Tess, it’s over. We are going home.”

“That’s not my fucking home!”

You let the exchange happen, while you move to one of the kits to retrieve a handgun, some ammo, and a small first-aid kit, and steal a backpack sitting on top of the chairs to shove all your supplies inside. Then, you hear Tess say the words you knew would happen, “I’m staying. I mean, our luck had to run out sooner or later.”

“Fuck.” Ellie whispers, “She’s infected.”

Tess sighs, and Joel’s eyes hardened and narrowed into slits, “Show me.” She takes a step forward and whispers his name, only for him to take a step back. Tess then steps back, anguish splashes across her face, then pulls the collar of her shirt and jacket, to reveal the growing infection on her neck, “Oops, right? And don’t bother taking it against her,” Tess gestures to you, “She did everything she could to save me, but I guess fate had already cut my string.”

Joel takes in a breath of disbelief while Tess looks to Ellie, “Take your bandage off.” Which she does to reveal no evidence of infection, just a new scar on her forearm to add to her collection. Tess makes her way to Ellie and holds her arm, “Look. Joel? This is real.” She drags Ellie closer to him, “Joel, she’s fucking real.” Her grip suddenly becomes twitchy and she wills her hand to stop shaking and hides it behind her back, she stares directly into the eyes of whom she once loved, “I need you to get her to Bill and Frank’s.”

Joel is shaking his head as he replies, “No.” But Tess continues to speak, “They’ll take her off your hands. They’ll handle it from here.”

“No… I can’t. They won’t take her. They’re not gonna take her.” He says and you watch each part you knew to unfold, Tess whispers to him, “They will because you’ll convince them. Yes, you will. I never ask you for anything. Not to feel the way I felt…”

“No.” He stubbornly states, but Tess lets the tears stream down her face and exclaims, “Now, you shut the fuck up because I don’t have time.”

He grants her request and listens, “This is your chance. You get her there. You keep her alive and you set everything right. All the shit we did.” Joel shakes his head as Tess begs, “Please say yes, Joel. Please.”

Despite the somber mood, a screech from one of the corpses has come to life and taken its revenge on the living, Ellie screams out, “Oh, fuck!” But your reaction time is faster this time, and you no longer hesitate as you walk towards the parasite, remove the safety of the gun and shoot it point blank in the head. Joel comes up behind you, and takes notice of what you’re staring at, the Cordyceps patch has awakened the rest of the infected and you hear the croaks and shrieks from outside of the State House.

Joel runs up to one of the doors to check how many are on the way, he shuts the door and locks it after making out the horde approaching. “How many?” Tess asks, Joel walks past her, “All of ‘em. Maybe a minute.”

Tess takes one of the rifles off of the floor and uses the butt of the gun to remove the lid on the fuel barrels. She pushes it to the floor, and the clear yellow liquid pours out of it and coats the floor. You help and do the same to the other barrel, knowing how this will end for Tess. “What are you doing?” Ellie asks, watching you and Tess scatter grenades on the ground, “Making sure they don’t follow you.”

Tess then approaches Joel, breathless and shaking, “Joel. Save who you can save.”

He clenches his jaw and his nostrils flared, angry, confused, upset, everyone he ever loved leaves or dies. He stares at her, soaking in her image as much as he can, and then he makes his decision. He quickly grabs Ellie by the arm and drags her away, her protests can be heard as it fades away around the corner, she punches his arm to try and break loose but he’s much stronger, “No! We’re not leaving her! Get off me, you fucker!”

Tess says your name and you turn to face her, “You weren’t lying? About the whole different universe thing?” You can only shake your head in response, hoping she can see your heart breaking into pieces.

Tess hums and gives you a small smile, “Take care of them for me, please? Especially Joel. Stubborn as a mule but you’ll learn to love him, just like I did.” You decide to grant the woman her dying wish, you nod and whisper, “Goodbye, Tess.”

You turn to run and didn’t look back, pushing out of the wooden doors, while tears stream down your face slightly obscuring your vision. But you manage to catch up with Joel and Ellie, as you did, the blast from the State House is sudden and loud. The smell of burning kerosine fills the air and you turn to look back at the raging fire, Joel turns and points his rifle at the area, ready to shoot just in case, only to hear screeching and the infected burning on the steps of the building.

You stare and one-half of your senses silently wish Tess would walk out, but you can no longer rewind, she’s gone. Ellie pants, trying to catch her breath, tears rimming her eyes and Joel lowers his rifle to turn away from the roaring flames. You and Ellie turn to watch his lone silhouette walk away from you both.

A/N: WELL that’s the end of Episode 2! Lowkey was fighting invisible demons to get this chapter edited and out bcs I wanted to improve on describing movement, anger, sorrow, etc. IT WAS EXTREMELY DIFFICULT T^T but I hope I didn’t disappoint ya’ll <3 ALSO YEP MHM TAGLIST! Send me an ask so I can add ya! It’ll stay open for a tiny period of time so send away :D

I’m proud of you for doing the right thing by trying to save Tess! Even though we all know you secretly admire Joel and would have chased after him to ensure his safety with Ellie. hehehehehe 

Yes, the reader only knows everything up to Episode 3, meaning she has no clue about the rest of the show! She knows (most) parts of the video game but alas we know Television series like to change things so she’s lowkey fucked lol

I LIVE FOR YOUR COMMENTS ya’ll crack me up and have the best reactions. Thank you for your support and love. I’ll try and get the next chapter out soon!

-Grace

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[meiliarotten]

Team Fortress 2 Kinktober Time Two: Electric Boogaloo

Day 17: Thigh Highs Save Lives (Stockings)

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Pairings: Medic x Fem!Reader

Summary: Medic finds himself quite enamored with a particular choice of clothing

Tags: Stockings, thigh highs, thigh jobs, oral, Medic is a thigh guy cause I said so

Word Count: 2.8k

The Masterlist

Medic hadn’t taken his eyes off of you from the moment you entered the bar. Everyone was out celebrating a rather large streak of victories. You had arrived a bit later than the rest of the team, as you wanted to change into something a bit nicer than your work uniform. This was one of the fancier bars in town, after all, but that wasn’t saying much. Still, you liked to feel pretty every now and then, even if it was a rather casual outfit. It wasn’t the outfit that caught Medic’s attention, but rather one specific article of clothing you had included.

Stockings. Thigh high socks, to be exact, worn with shorts. It was actually a rather practical way to guard your bare legs from the cold desert night while also not being too hot in the crowded environment of the bar. Well, maybe they kept you from feeling hot, but they were doing Medic no favors. He practically burned with envy whenever you laughed or danced with his drunken coworkers. You were simply having fun, but surely if he could see how beautiful you looked in those godforsaken things, they all could too.

The thought of them and the other patrons laying their lascivious gazes on you had him downing his beer in an attempt to cool his temper. It was uncharacteristic of him to get jealous so easily, but you had awakened something in him, something he wasn’t expecting at all. Medic shook his head, giving himself a quick reality check. His coworkers probably couldn’t care less about what you were wearing, most of them being far too intoxicated to even see you as more than a blurry figure leading them through the steps of some generic dance.

That thought calmed his nerves and he chuckled as he watched you struggle to keep Demoman from toppling over a bar stool. He was even more drunk than normal. It was a good sign in Medic’s opinion. If his coworkers were drunk enough once they returned to the base, he could easily explore his newfound affinity with you without the risk of anyone overhearing, and if they did, then they most likely wouldn’t remember. He couldn’t hold back a grin at the thought, now waiting eagerly for closing time while nursing a fresh beer.

—

By the time you arrived back at the base it was nearing midnight, and it felt like an eternity before Medic could finally return back to his own room. He would have been able to go there immediately if some of his less eloquent colleagues hadn’t decided to cause a massive bar fight within an hour of closing time. He hadn’t even figured out how the fight had started, but it led to his current task of picking beer bottle shards out of Scout’s arm, all to the tune of the Bostonian’s incessant complaining. Once he was certain there was no more glass protruding from Scout’s skin he bandaged the arm a bit more hastily than usual, eager to send his patient on his way and return to his room, and more importantly, to you.

He prayed the flush in his cheeks wasn’t noticeable in the relatively dim light of the infirmary as he ushered Scout away and quickly made a beeline for his private quarters. The click of his boots seemed louder than normal in the thankfully empty halls as he made his way to you, knowing you would be waiting for him. After all, he had asked you to, and you were always so obedient for him.

When he finally reached his room he opened the door to find you sitting at his desk. You were reading one of his books on human anatomy. While the material was a bit beyond you, you were fascinated by the diagrams as well as some of the photographs of real internal organs featured in the book. Medic was oddly disappointed, but he mentally shook himself- had he really expected you to be kneeling in nothing but your stockings, waiting for him? All he had asked of you was to wait in his room, and you had done just that. If he wanted more, he should have been more specific.

You looked up from the book and gave him a wide smile, one which seemed far too innocent. You really had no idea what those garments did to him. Everything from the way they clung to your legs to the way the flesh of your thighs naturally protruded ever so slightly over the hem was a source of erotic allure.

“Finally finished?” you asked, placing the book aside. You stood up, approaching him with that unwavering smile. “I swear, I could hear Scout complaining from here-”

You were cut off with a rough kiss. Medic grasped your upper arms, holding you still as he dominated your lips, stealing the breath from your lungs. You moaned against his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as you surrendered. His hands wandered low on your body, squeezing and caressing until you were quite aware of the subtle heat building between your legs. You clenched your thighs together with a muffled whine.

“I want you in my bed, now,” he growled, breathing hard when the two of you parted. Such a stern order coupled with the suddenness of everything made your head spin. Quickly, you made your way over to the bed with Medic trailing close behind. You sat down on the mattress, reaching down to undress, but your wrist was snatched in a death grip the moment your fingers touched the hem of the stockings. You winced, and Medic immediately released you.

“So sorry, meine liebe,” he said, giving you an apologetic look. “But please, allow me.”

With a nod from you, he proceeded to unbutton your shorts, pulling them down over your legs and removing them, taking care not to accidentally pull the thigh highs down as well. Your underwear followed soon after. You watched him with a confused tilt of your head, trying to figure out what he was doing. It was only when he began to absentmindedly stroke your thighs up and down that a lightbulb finally went off in your head.

“Medic,” you began, grabbing his attention. He glanced up at you, barely pausing as he felt the fabric beneath his fingertips. “Do you like the stockings?”

He paused, before letting out a short laugh. “Is it not obvious, meine liebe?”

His laughter was contagious, and you found yourself chuckling along with him. “It’s just interesting. I would have worn them sooner if I knew they got you this worked up. Maybe I’ll have to buy some more.”

“Gott, ja,” Medic gasped, the very thought of you purchasing more gorgeous, thigh hugging garments just for him making him breathless. “I would like that very much.”

You weren’t used to getting such strong reactions out of Medic, especially so soon. Perhaps that’s why you were so easily convinced by his next request. You could tell he had something on his mind, his brows knitted together and his mouth parting slightly as if he was trying to find the right words. You waited patiently for him to finally compose himself as he stroked your thighs, as if he was soothing himself with the texture of the fabric and the subtle give of your flesh under his grip.

“Liebchen, this may sound odd,” he began, his face going pink. You were suddenly very interested in what he had to say. Not much could make Medic blush. Furthermore, it was very difficult to find something the mad doctor would consider ‘odd.’ You gave a small nod, urging him to go on, which he did with a shaky inhale. “I want to feel your thighs around my cock.”

After a brief moment of confusion, you realized what he meant. Thigh fucking had never been something you would have considered yourself, but you certainly weren’t unwilling to try, especially if it meant getting more reactions out of Medic.

“I think I understand,” you said, sitting up and turning around so your back faced him. Medic began to unfasten his belt, almost frantic in his race to undress. His pace only slowed once his pants were off and he could press himself between your thighs

You heard him gasp and felt the rise of his chest against your back. He went still for a moment, and you felt him twitch between your legs which urged you to clench your thighs tighter. When he began to rock his hips you allowed yourself to lean back against him, letting yourself relax and simply enjoy the ride. You couldn’t help but watch with rapt attention at the way Medic’s cock speared between your thighs, already dripping precum onto the sheets. The only thing that could steal your attention away from that sight were the sounds he was making. With his head nestled against your shoulder, you could easily hear every enraptured noise, even those he tried to muffle with desperate bites to your neck and collar.

Medic fucked between your thighs desperately, his steady rhythm growing rougher and harder. His arms wrapped around you at one point to keep you from falling forward, keeping you pressed flush against his body. He didn’t seem to notice your needy whimpers as he pleasured himself, not until you managed to finally utter a coherent word.

“Medic!” you cried, and for a moment, he seemed to snap out of his pleasure fueled daze. It was then that it finally dawned on him that he had been focusing on his own desire for far too long. While he loathed the idea of withdrawing from the plush comfort of your thighs, Medic knew that better things awaited him. He pulled away with a soft noise, akin to a whine, and you quickly turned back to face him, pulling him into a kiss before he could say a word.

He leaned forward, deepening the kiss and pushing you back onto the bed. You let him push your thighs apart and tried to wrap your legs around his waist only for Medic to stop you, holding your legs still and pulling away from the kiss. You shivered in anticipation as you watched him descend down your body, trailing ghost-like kisses in his wake until he finally reached your cunt. With little warning, Medic delved his tongue into you, making you shout in delight. He held your thighs firmly enough that if the stockings weren’t there you would be able to see bruises blooming beneath his fingers. You rested your legs on his shoulders, sitting up slightly so that you could see him.

Medic’s eyes had drifted shut, brows knitted in concentration as he focused on your pleasure, tasting, teasing, and savoring every bit of you until he had his fill. Then he would begin focusing on your clit, making you squirm and whine, his grip tightening to keep you still. Right when you were at the brink he would stop, moving from your clit to kiss your inner thighs, paying no mind to your frustrated whimpering. He continued this pattern for a while, slowly working you up before denying you the release you craved again and again until you finally lost your patience, reaching down and taking a fistful of his hair.

His eyes snapped open as you pulled him off you. You were going to say something, to tell him to quit teasing you already, but the look in Medic’s gaze, almost animalistic in his expression, made your heart skip a beat and the words caught in your throat. Any complaints you may have had were forgotten as you tasted yourself on his lips and tongue. It was a passionate, desperate dance that only paused when one of you needed to part for air. Even so, you felt him shifting on top of you, fitting himself between your legs as he kissed you.

“Bitte, wrap your legs around me, liebchen,” he whispered between breaths. You did as you were told, pulling him close as he finally entered you. He shuddered, fixing you with a lustful gaze before starting a slow, but steady pace.

With an impatient whine, you used your legs to pull him deeper into you, bucking your hips until Medic finally picked up his pace, allowing you to simply sit back and enjoy the ride. He rutted into you desperately, spurred on by the way you began to moan and writhe beneath him. Even so, his movements were no less calculated than usual. They were quite rough however, and you whimpered when he delivered a particularly hard thrust to your core. He stuttered and slowed, and you felt his hand come up to cup your face. You opened your eyes, not even realizing until now that you had been squeezing them shut, and you were met with his gentle expression. His thumb gently brushed over your cheek and you leaned into his touch, cherishing a brief moment of calm.

“Am I being too rough?” It took you a moment to register what he said, but once you did you quickly shook your head.

“No, I’m alright,” you said. “I was just caught off guard, that’s all.”

Medic nodded and began moving again. This time you could tell he was trying to reign himself in, focusing on your pleasure. Eventually, he did start to increase his speed, but it was a slow buildup, giving your body plenty of time to adjust. All the while he continued to stroke your thighs, practically shivering at the sensation of those garments under his palms and wrapping tight around his waist. You meanwhile were content to lose yourself in bliss, so much so that you barely heard Medic ask you if you were enjoying yourself. You also failed to notice the devilish smirk he gave before slipping a finger beneath the hem of one of your stockings, pulling it, and letting it snap back against your skin. You gasped, the sting bringing you back to reality.

“I asked you a question, meine liebe,” Medic whispered, making it clear that he expected a verbal answer from you.

“Yes! Fuck,” you stammered through your words, desperately trying to string together a coherent sentence as you became aware of the pleasure building between your legs. “I’m so fucking close!”

Medic knew that he was nearing his limit too, no matter how much he didn’t want this to end. You shuddered as his hands trailed up from your thighs until they reached your hips. His fingers dug into your skin as his grip tightened and you gasped when he hoisted you up suddenly, making it far easier for him to hit that sweet, incredibly sensitive area inside you. You couldn’t keep yourself from trembling as he pounded into that spot repeatedly, and you knew you were moaning, even if you were too blissed out to hear yourself think, let alone speak. Whatever sounds you were making, Medic certainly seemed to enjoy them.

“Gott, I love hearing you scream like this, singing so nicely for me. Good girl.” His words came between strangled moans as he tried to stave off his own climax. It was no use, and before long he was coming undone, his movements becoming uneven and frantic.

You weren’t far behind, coming hard with a few more well placed thrusts, back arching and legs tightening around his waist, pulling him close against you as you cried out loud enough to risk being overheard. At the moment, you couldn’t care less who heard you. You were vaguely aware that you were calling for him, a soft mantra of ‘Medic,’ being repeated even as you came down from your high. It was akin to the calls he heard on the battlefield, although with the stark difference that those were usually cries of pain rather than pleasure.

“I’m here, liebchen, I have you.” His voice was as breathless as your own cries. He used the last bit of his strength to withdraw from you, pulling you into his embrace as he rolled to the side. The way your body trembled in his arms almost worried him, until he brushed a hand over your cheek and saw the soft smile that spread across your face. It was obvious that you had very much enjoyed yourself. It was a beautiful sight to see you so satisfied and relaxed.

Medic was quite the sight as well. He looked weary, eyes half lidded and breathing heavily. It was rare that he was equally, if not more exhausted than you were after activities such as this, and you took pride in the fact that you had managed to tire him out as well. You quite liked his contented expression, as well as the adorable struggle he put up against the beckoning of sleep. You loved it almost as much as you loved the ravenous way he had fucked you senseless.

You nestled against his chest, signaling that you were happy to fall asleep like this, limbs entangled with each other atop messy sheets. The stockings you wore were still on, and you probably wouldn’t find an opportunity to remove them until morning. Before finally letting yourself drift off, you made a mental note to wear them more often- and maybe even buy some more for special occasions.

[liaromancewriter]

Miracles

Premise: A chance encounter with Ethan brings an expected revelation for Cassie.

Fandom: Choices Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Words: 1,050

A/N: Submission for @choicesmaychallenge24 prompt "mood changed like the weather" and for @jerzwriter Mother's Day event.

Miracle of life, my ass!

It was a miracle the world’s population was edging toward eight billion, given the indignities that pregnancy wrought on women’s bodies.

Cassie Valentine barely controlled a grimace as her patient let out an inhumane scream and tried to push a watermelon-sized human being out of her hoo-ha. The mammoth pregnant belly heaved and metamorphized with each contraction, blood and fluids gushing out from between her thighs.

She was in week three of her intern year ambulatory electives block. She’d chosen Women’s Health, thinking learning more about her body would be cool. However, most of her rotation had been spent in labor and delivery since that team was short-staffed.

Apparently, this was a popular time for giving birth in Boston. What else could horny Bostonians do during the long, cold winter nights?

Contrary to popular belief, babies straight out of the womb were not cute, with their skin red and wrinkly and covered in amnio fluids. Witnessing a mid-morning birth was enough to put one off their lunch.

“You have a beautiful baby girl,” the third-year resident cooed, smiling widely as she laid the wriggling tiny human on the mother’s chest.

Cassie scrutinized the scrunched-up face peeking through the blanket and thought it looked more like a fish, but to each their own.

Leaving mother and child to bond, she followed the team out of the delivery room, discarding the protective sheath and cap in the bin outside, and shook loose her long blonde hair.

Checking her watch to make sure she wasn’t late for afternoon didactics, Cassie strode toward the nurses’ station, intent on completing the notes from this case while it was fresh in her mind.

She didn’t often think about motherhood. After an almost scare in college that had given her and Jackson several restless nights waiting for the results, she’d been diligent about preventing accidental pregnancies.

Still, given that she came from two prolific dynastic families, Cassie supposed it was inevitable she’d have kids one day. But everything she’d witnessed these few weeks hadn’t exactly endeared her to the idea of putting her body through all that!

Her mind came to a screeching halt, and her feet slowed at the sight of Dr. Ramsey leaning against a wall, arms folded, chatting with another attending.

Ethan looked out of place in the brightly painted maternity ward, decorated with colorful wall posters about the benefits of breastfeeding and glittery balloons bobbing in the air as eager parents took their babies home. His somber expression countered the excited hubbub in the busy hallway.

Now, that was a man who couldn’t see kids in his future. Cassie still remembered his ambivalence about family and children when they tested the fMRI machine. Given how his brain scan lit up, it was a sore subject.

Not that it’s any of my business, she thought, turning away. Still, she furtively sniffed her underarms (the delivery room had been hot and sweaty) and sighed in relief. All clear.

Cassie sat behind the desk at the nurses’ station, entering notes into the computer, when a shadow fell over her. She glanced up mid-sentence, instinctively knowing who it was.

“Be with you in a minute, Dr. Ramsey,” the charge nurse said from behind her.

Ethan towered above the station, but his eyes were locked on his phone so Cassie could observe without him being any wiser.

He looked tired, his jawline scruffy with overgrown stubble. His short, neatly styled dark brown hair was unusually tousled—as if he’d run his fingers through it.

Cassie’s hand itched to touch the small, subtle strand of hair that fell slightly forward. It gently curved towards his forehead, softening his otherwise polished (and somewhat austere) look.

She thought it added a bit of character, giving Ethan a relaxed and approachable appearance. Until his striking blue eyes caught you spying. Then, there was nothing casual about Ethan Ramsey.

“Rookie,” Ethan said neutrally, head cocked sideways, his gaze inscrutable.

“Dr. Ramsey,” Cassie acknowledged cooly with a slight nod. She wanted to be nonchalant, but curiosity won out. “What are you doing here?”

He quirked one eyebrow, his expression haughty, for lack of a better word.

“Sorry!” Cassie blurted out, feeling her cheeks flush. “I know it’s none of my business.”

“No, it’s not,” he said, hesitating. “But, since you knew Dolores…”

His Adam’s apple pulsed as he swallowed, emotions swimming in his eyes. He blinked them away, cleared his throat, and shut down any hint of vulnerability.

“Baby Hudson is being discharged from NICU this week. Dolores’ sister asked me to coordinate the transfer to his pediatrician in Minneapolis.”

“Oh. I didn’t know he was still here.”

Cassie realized she hadn’t given Dolores or her baby much thought in the last couple of months. She had moved on to other patients, trying to keep her head above water as the harsh realities of residency and competing in the fellowship competition beat down on her.

Of course, Ethan Hudson was still in the neonatal ICU, given his premature birth at twenty-six weeks. It was a miracle he’d survived the night. She felt terrible for her negligence, even though Dolores’ untimely death had devastated her at the time.

“Why would you?” Ethan commented impassively, drumming his fingers on the desk. “He was no longer under your care.”

“How is he?”

“He——” Ethan sighed, looking away from her briefly. “He’s hit all his developmental markers. Dr. Lozoya doesn’t expect any long-term complications. He has Dolores’ eyes.”

Her green eyes sharpened at the softly spoken words, the tenderness in his voice catching her off guard. From the sudden frown on his lips, Cassie suspected he hadn’t meant to make that admission, at least not to her.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, doctor,” the charge nurse interrupted.

The bubble surrounding them burst. Ethan straightened from the desk and nodded absently before accompanying the charge nurse down the hallway.

Cassie watched his retreating back with a considering look. In the short time she’d known him, his moods appeared to change like the weather.

The man was full of contradictions: arrogant one minute, compassionate another. Dismissive and rude at times, he was also wickedly sarcastic and funny on the most unexpected occasions.

Who, she wondered, was the real Ethan Ramsey?

---------------

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @jerzwriter @lady-calypso

@mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16

@justyourusualash @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate

[evita-shelby]

Hello Juli! Your turn to create something around Eva and Tina, I’m curious 🤭

this was very fun to write shark

cw: mentions of torture

The witch and the butcher

Tina Cacciatore has brought out a fear only seldom few had ever done to the Witch.

Cheerful and even bubbly, and yet her hands had more blood than Porfirio Diaz's most seasoned torturers.

“She really spooked you.” Jack finds himself at the end of her knife after he caught her unawares in her greenhouse. He had wanted to make use of the place now that he’d left work early knowing she’s on edge after their encounter with Luca and his pet murderer.

Luca will want to settle the score after Jack taught her how to wrap the piano wire around the man who bombed Wall Street to get rid of them. Celestina Cacciatore was who he needed for his revenge against them…against her.

“People that gleeful and bloody wouldn’t hesitate to torture a child.” Eva reminds him even if she knows his lack of worry is merely a façade.

“Spinetta doesn’t torture kids, goes against their honor code. No kids, no women.” Jack gently pries the knife from her hands and pretends he hadn’t increased the security around their family because of the butcher girl’s reputation.

“I don’t want to lose you, Jack.” The witch has not slept well, always fearing her husband wouldn’t come back one of these days.

“You won’t. You’ve said it yourself, Tommy Shelby will kill Luca in a few months. Butcher Girl will probably go to England to avenge him and will be their problem.” The Bostonian assures her as if he knew the future better than she did. “We’ll go back to Boston or your folks at Rockhall if you want, doll.”

“Can you stand being in my aunt’s company until Christmas?” the witch asks knowing it will be a trial but the Mafia can’t afford to trouble the crème of the crème no matter how high they climb.

Besides with the holidays coming up soon, it’s a good excuse to leave their home in Riverdale and seek safety in the country. They don’t need much to prepare, they only have four children and their suite has a nursery for baby Kathrine.

And yet, on the last day in the city Eva comes face to face with the yellow eyed fiend that haunts her nightmares.

“Hi.”She is bubbly and cheerful despite the unsettling mismatched eyes. Appearing friendly even if a bit too energetic despite the horrors she is capable of.

They were rumors of an exorcism done to see if it could fix her talent for cruelty, but it was no demon behind it, that was just who Celestina Cacciatore was.

“What do you want?” the witch steels herself and tries to remind herself the Black Hand was strict with it’s rules.

No women, no children, just buisness.

That the witch had humiliated Luca at a bath house after making him believe she’d fuck him was enough to make a man forget his own rules.

It had felt good, to corner Luca and get him to drop his guard long enough to get his cock in her hands and wrap the garrote around his balls.

He had been able to hold back his pain, the initial arousal making the experience quite unforgettable. Strega, he’d drawled as the pleasure turned into pain, you’ll pay for this.

Eva had laughed and tightened the wire as Jack helped her do it. They had thought themselves invincible, so untouchable  she and her husband had fucked as Luca laid there bloody and humiliated just across the room.

And now karma had come.

“Nothing, I just wanted to tell you how much I admire you.” The Butcher Girl had said as if she were a shy girl meeting her hero and not her enemy. “Just so fashionable and beautiful and they way no mob wife can even come close to you. Spinnetta's wife wishes she could have as much glamour as you do. And that’s not even talking about how your godfather is the Pope---”

Eva is not sure what to do about this.

Her reputation spoke for itself, she was the impossible ideal, the one and only Mrs. Nelson. That the girl who may one day torture and kill her and Jack was a fan, was the last thing she expected.

She could work this to their advantage.

[kthynes]

code red

18+

Lloyd learns about your menses.

word count: ~807

warnings: course language, mentions of period blood and menstruation. Husband for Hire AU (drabble).

This has not been beta’d- mistakes are my own

“God this is shit.” You sniff, curled up in bed for most of the day. Thankful for room service and the ample movie subscriptions that Lloyd had discourteously bought out. You were stuck watching the Dutch dubbing of Lost in Translation, not clued in at all.

So it turns out that your monthly menses came early and in a man's home you were unprepared for the worst.

“It’s OK mia.” Maria coddles you, grazing a hand on your shoulder. Like an unaware teenager, you woke up to a bloody mess. Stained bedsheets and embarrassment were coinciding detriments that you weren’t going to live down. “I’ll throw them in the wash and they’ll be good as new. Mr. Hansen won’t know.”

“What does Lloyd know?” You snap, tired of the fact that he’s never not been sensible, always fucking clueless.

“He’s… understanding.” She chooses her words carefully around you because you were special circumstances, his overall eyes and ears. His favourite. “He’ll know.” You scoff and she pushes a small smile, excusing herself from more small talk.

The pain welters in waves. You screw your face altogether, groaning and sifting in carnal discomfort. The channel flips, panning over to a man who’s trekking through an alpaca sanctuary. That’s when your heartstrings get pulled, sniffing through a random reunion. One sad thing tunneled into another sad life event: military homecomings.

Crying and wallowing, you manage to moan through another flash flood of pain, burying yourself in a swathe of sheets that cushion the blow.

Lloyd isn’t in any rush when he comes home. His days were unaccounted for. Business was surmountable. His men needed him at their beck and call until he felt the need to pull away. Tonight he wanted to sleep with both eyes closed.

“Good evening, Mr. Hansen.” Maria greets him at the door while carrying an armload of fresh linen.

“Is she alright?” He breathlessly asks about you. As always he’s expected to hear more about your antics. But instead Maria splays an apologetic smile as she watches him shed off his coat and shoes.

“She’s feeling a bit unwell, sir.” She finally answers. This grabs Lloyd’s attention in the momentum. He slows his undoing, mildly gaffed.

“What do you mean?” He’s dumb and quizzically concerned. The older woman releases a heavy sigh. “Was Angelo called?”

“No.”

“Why not?” His heavy Bostonian dialect picks up. “He’s on call for a reason.” He immediately whips out his phone and scrolls through his contacts.

“She’s not sick, sir.”

Lloyd looks up at her, struck with confusion. “What is it then?”

“Lady problems.” She purses her lips at the newfound commentary. Now it’s Lloyd’s turn to sigh, realization hitting him like a ton of bricks, muttering the Lord’s name in vain as he back pockets his phone.

“OK, got it.” He closes his eyes and nods. “Thank you, Maria.”

“Of course.” She murmurs while quietly turning away on her heels.

“Wait, um… do we… is there enough…” He struggles to say anything remotely helpful or comprehensive, pinching the bridge of his nose, engrossed with some dismay. “Do I…”

“Everything’s taken care of Mr. Hansen. Just be there for her.” She says in the sweetest way possible. Maria had an inkling for these things. Of course she’s a mother of 3 beautiful girls but being a woman herself, she nurtured the right approach when it came to Lloyd who was practically her son.

“Sure… yeah, I can do that.” He finally psyches himself up for the job not knowing how badly you needed the solace. Maybe not from him though.

While breathing through the cramps you don’t hear the room door open and shut.

“Go away.” You grumble, knowing his scent and call all too well.

“Sorry I’m late.” Lloyd bashfully announces himself and for that you groan.

“I didn’t ask for you.”

“I’m here now.” He urges, hitching his trouser before taking a seat next to your bed. “How’re we feeling?”

“Like kaka.” You whine, another cramp pulverizing in the pits of your uterus. Rarely is it this bad. With him around it got excruciatingly worse.

He laughs and tilts his head sideways, bearing the slightest dimple on his left cheek. “That’s one way to put it.”

“I’m bedridden, I can’t move my lower extremities. I’m moody, bloated and I could really make do with a cuddle buddy right about now.” You mumble the last bit. Lloyd hears your request loud and clear.

“OK, you got it. Scoot over.”

“What?” You panic, feeling slightly better already. “No, it’s fine. You don’t have to—“

“Relax.” That’s one way to assure someone. “Let me hold you.” That’s another way to fall in love.

You’re wordlessly stunned by his amiable approach, moving your body from one end of the bed to the other. Weak to start a fight and prideful enough to swallow your ego, you allow him to take care of you like this. It’s one of the many firsts that you reconcile with.

Lloyd slowly slides in next to you. With the covers slightly drawn back he can see that you were huddled in nothing but a pair of fleece shorts and an oversized T-shirt. He’s deft and takes position of the big spoon as you brace onto the warm heating pack, back turned towards him, heart hammering in your throat. For a second you don’t feel him move. But then soon after he wraps a strong arm around your torso and gently pulls you against him, softly grunting and nuzzling into hair. The awkwardness disappears, your muscles ease up. His form moulds against yours like two perfect puzzle pieces. You fall into his trust. There’s calmness and serenity. A preoccupying silence that looms in the moment, safeguarding you instantaneously. Lloyd’s eyes fall shut. He needed this just as much as you did. Though you’d never know that.

“Is this OK?” He quietly mumbles against you in half slumber. You nod, chest rising and falling with his.

“Thank you.” You felt protected. He did what he could. No questions asked. No objections.

You fell asleep easily that night and so did Lloyd.

[sardonic-the-writer]

tf2 artists will draw the most beautiful heart wrenching peice and then have a profile picture of a bostonian in amelia earhart's hot dog costume

[prettyboypistol]

Please i want more male reader x scout.

I wanna dom the lil boston man

ASK AND YE SHALL MOTHERFUCKING RECEIVE

Scout x Male Reader NSFT- Domming the Bostonian

[Dom!ReaderxSub!Scout][Brat!Scout][Dirty Talk][Orgasm Delay/Denial][2nd Person, Reader is referred to as "you"]

You push Jeremy down onto his bed, which was not much of a chore considering how frail the man was. He looked up with you with an expression of a beautiful dance of excitement and fear. He wasn't scared, though. Not in the slightest. You crawled on top of him, pinning his arms down with your own as you nestled between his legs. God, you could feel his dick twitch and throb from the slightest bit of friction.

"C'mon Jeremy, be a good boy." You murmured into his ear. You could tell that he hated the noise that his throat garbled out. The shiver that wracked down his spine made his hips push against your own, eliciting a groan from both of you.

Scout wrapped his hands around you before he dug his nails into your back. You heard a faint cocky chuckle.

"Make me, you son of a bitch."

You did. You did more than make him. You manhandled him onto his hands and knees and spanked him, you ate him out until he sobbed, you teased and tortured his cock with the promise of orgasm but faced with denial. His sporadic sexually frustrated tantrums broke down to crying and begging, desperate for you to just put it in already!

Kisses along his back and hickeys strung on his thighs drove Jeremy mad.

"Please! Fucking please! Please God, please just fucking fuck me-" Jeremy babbled. You couldn't help but look at the clock to see how long you teased your begging little boytoy. 9:19 PM, barely thirty minutes.

"Aww, alright sweetheart, if you promise to be a good boy for me."

"I will! Jesus Christ- please!"

You lined yourself up and painstakingly pushed inside, you didn't want to punish him any longer anyway. Jeremy's body went slack, falling onto the pillow underneath his hips from sheer exhaustion. All the way in, Jeremy whined and pushed his ass against you, desperate for more.

Jeremy let his hips be grabbed as you pulled out gently, then went right back in. Out. In. Out. In. All in a rhythmic pattern of lazy thrusts. Jeremy looked blissfully fulfilled, yet the furrowed brow of your baby was an obvious tell that he needed more.

So, you jackhammered him like the world would end tomorrow. Jeremy choked out a scream as loud moans were ripped from him.

"That's it baby, good boy." You sighed into his red-tinted ear. "You're so fucking great, Jeremy. That's my baby boy."

"Hey- I'm gonna-"

You tugged at his hair.

"Do it, bitch."

Jeremy's crescendo of scream-moans built quickly before he tightened around you with a keening sob. His body twitched and writhed as you continued to fuck him, not too close from your own orgasm as well. All it took was one more begging whine from Jeremy and it was over or you. Deep inside that lanky little fucker, you came.

Eventually, you pulled out and rearranged yourself and Jeremy until he was laid in your arms. He deserved a bit of nice after the hell you couldn't help yourself to give. You kissed his forehead and stroked his sweat-stricken back.

"Good boy."

[monstrousproductions]

Your American accent in the recent episode was so convincing that when I resumed halfway through the letter I was like “who’s this guest va hero brought on??”

Jesus, really?? That's amazing haha! I was in absolute agonies over it ngl - American accents are SO hard to do without lapsing into a silly caricature which is fine for some letters (looking at you, beautiful Bostonian trans lizard lady) but didn't really suit this one. I'm so relieved, I was really aiming at "not excruciating" so anything beyond that is a huge bonus 😂

[redd956]

Accents are beautiful!

I love accents. Accents of all types. Little dialects, and regional differences. I love broken English, Spanglish, Engrish, words from the English language that aren't spoken in my part of the world.

I love slang, I love non-English words that become part of English. I love accents among languages. I love the way the American accent is portrayed in European television. I love the way American inspired characters speak Japanese in anime. I love seeing British inspired characters in South American shows, I love seeing English accents in French cartoons. I love seeing the Russian accent portrayed in Spanish. I love seeing the German accent portrayed in Asian media.

People just be out there saying the same thing, but sounding completely different. Like an accent alone says so much about a person, about their family, about where they grew up. It's just another puzzle piece as to what makes people unique.

I love AAVE, I love cockney, I love brummie, I love bostonian, I love the subtle similarities between the French and Russian accents. I love the accents that derive from LGBT communities. I love that there are variants of it all over the world.

Some people have a buzz in their voice, some people speak lightly with their tongue higher up, some people speak deeper from their throat. I love nasally voices, and monotone voices, and silvery voices.

Rural accents, accents that derive from that countryside isolation, all of it is wonderful. The prolonged vowels of Slavic accents, the sort of hissing S of the central German, the difference in iambics from language to language.

It's all so beautiful, and yet, we barely notice from day to day.

[corvarrow]

NE Vacation lets gooo

So I'm still really worn out but less than I ended up being yesterday so HERE is a post about the trip I just went on! It's gonna get real big and have a couple photos so I'll just go ahead and cut it here lol

-We went to visit family in Rhode Island...I have been to NYC a couple times but not any further north than that so anything in New England was a brand new experience. I was not a fan of the humidity (pretty arid here at home lol) but I like ocean and forest so I thought it was super pretty! I could not believe all the flowers and blue/purple hydrangeas EVERYWHERE

-We did fly in and out of Providence airport...but since it is super tiny we had to do connecting flights both ways. Wednesday last week we had to get up at 3 AM (after I had a full work day the day before) to get to the first plane, and on this Tuesday the layover between flights was REAL tight so both travel days were kind of brutal.

-ANYway, we ended up going to the Brimfield Antique Show in Massachussetts for two days. I don't think we covered a quarter of the show, we didn't expect it to be as enormous as it was. I ended up getting an antique inkwell shaped like a shell (it rotates on its stand), a metal dog, some vintage postcards (I love old landscape photos and interesting buildings), an old fan with a beautiful mountain painting on the front and a funeral home ad on the back (wtf lol), and a vintage travel guide to Rome with a lot of pictures but everything in Italian.

-Some other family from New York ended up coming with us to the antique show, as my aunt had rented a Vrbo (first time I've been in one) and there was plenty of room. One of those days we got takeout from a local restaurant and there was a machine in there dispensing pokemon cards for 50 cents...I thought "Sure why not" and got one - it ended up being a Dark Energy card instead of actually anything so I thought that was extremely funny

-We also went to Boston for a day - very pretty as well! I liked it way more than NYC to be honest. I had NO IDEA there were so many tunnels! Rained on us a ton though it cleared up by the time we did a bus tour. I am a big fan of brutalist architecture so I thought the one government building (the bus tour guide called it the Hurley building, I think) was REALLY cool. Wish I had gotten a picture of it but I was on the wrong side of the bus. Also: Bostonians, I am very sorry but your green line subway train makes possibly one of the worst sounds I've ever heard.

I thought the top of this building, whatever it was, looked very neat. Very art deco.

And this one with the dark windows forming triangle shapes. Not super exciting but I like this kind of thing

Can't forget about the gothic cathedral

Also spotted this cool unicorn at one point

-Uhh, what else did we do....after that we did actually do stuff in RI. Went to Ft Adams, went to Blithewold Manor, did a scenic ocean drive...I love how none of those Beachfront Home buying shows actually show the wild amount of traffic caused by people trying to get to the beach - parking whereever and blocking lanes constantly. I'd never live that close to the water to begin with as I'd be too afraid of flooding or my house falling in, but I had no idea how bad the traffic situation actually was. 8'D

-We did get a milkshake from Newport Creamery! I'm not normally a milkshake person but we tried them anyway and it was soooo good. Really enjoyed all the local chains in general.

-On the last day we did a lighthouse tour on a large catamaran and that was super awesome, I think it was one of my favorite parts of the trip. There was a Karen on our boat throwing multiple tantrums as the tour did not start fast enough for her liking but that just ended up being also extremely funny. The guy actually doing the tour was great and I'm actually quite curious about the history of the area, as I had no idea there were so many pirates o_o

This one boat moored near Ft Adams was rad af

[unhingedicedlatte]

"Seasick" - Shipping Rizzles on a Lesbian Cruise

Title of Fic: "Seasick"

Author: Sybilia

Fandom/Pairing: "Rizzoli & Isles", Maura Isles and Jane Rizzoli ("Rizzles")

TW: /

Rating: M

Synopsis: Angela Rizzoli wins a 7-day-vacation on a cruise across the Caribbean and wants her daughter, detective Jane Rizzoli, to come with her. But shortly before the ship's departure, Angela suddenly declares that she is feeling unwell and can't come on the cruise. This leaves Jane with her best friend, brilliant and nerdy Medical Examiner Maura Isles, as the "plus-one".

But when her and Maura enter the ship, Jane quickly comes to the conclusion that something on the "Olivia" smells - well, fishy? (sorry for the double entendre, lol). Not only are there solely women on the ship - the women all seem to be very interested in the same sex. Jane is mortified, especially when Maura points out that as the winner of the cruise drive, Jane is legally obligated to stick to the release she signed, which inlcudes leading various group activitites, posing for pictures and the like.

Jane would rather just up and leave but lets herself be convinced into staying (does she even have a choice, for real?). So, our two favorite Bostonians find themselves in an extremely gay environment, surrounded by hundreds of lesbians, and have to pretend being a couple as soon as they leave their cabin on the ship to participate in the various activitites and competitions going on.

But Jane would not be Jane without her competitive streak and she soon finds herself wanting to be the "Queen of all Lesbians", as the winner of the games is called. This leads to some pretty hilarious events like her participating in a "Lick clean an ice-cream bowl"-contest or a "penetrate donuts with a dildo on a harness strapped to your waist"-competition.

It does not only sound funny and weird as heck, it is! The wonderful thing about this fic is that there are multiple wonderful things, to be honest. The plot is so clever and original that you don't want Rizzles to leave that lesbian cruise ship ever again. But then we also have the beautiful, very accurate depiction of Maura and Jane who are written in character so very well by this crazily talented writer. The descriptions, be it of the games or the ship or the tourist destinations, are done in great detail and serve to make this story even more outstanding. Aaand as the special cherry on top, we also get the authors's OCs and all of them are utterly PRICELESS! We have former Wimbledon Champion, the unapologetically gay and deliciously unhinged Millie-Joyce Ming, famous singer and surprisingly tame diva Beata Frankenmeier and "Big Carl" Carla Timmons, another police officer ready for a good time among fellow lesbians.

And in the middle of this spicily sapphic ship, we have Maura and Jane, both secretly already harboring more than just platonic feelings for one another... but will they finally be courageous enough to admit their blossoming love for each other and go from "fake girlfriends" to "real couple"?

I cannot stress this often enough: READ THIS MASTERPIECE!! It is so wholesome and brilliant and great fun and romantic and wild and creative and had me laugh out loud in public again and again because the humor is simply impeccable. Read it. You won't regret it.

Also, make sure to check out the writer's other two stories, "Constant Companion" and "Seasick"'s sequel, "Cherry Grove", they are equally awesome!!

[ltwilliammowett]

The Eliza Ann

The story of the Eliza Ann began two days after Christmas in 1833. On that day, a Bermudian fisherman found what appeared to be an abandoned schooner floating among the reefs near Ely's Harbour. Thinking of a possible salvage and the resulting profit for himself, he rowed out and saw that the bow of the wreck was partially submerged. As he came alongside, the would-be salvor's eagerness turned to horror as his eyes fell on the grotesque figures sprawled on the deck. He called out to them, but there was no reply. Climbing over the side of the wreck, he discovered a crew of skeletons! Full of panic, he jumped into his boat and rowed as fast as he could to Ely's Harbour. 

Shipwreck (not the Eliza Ann -  Wreck of the “Oregon” under Picklecombe Battery, Plymouth Sound. 1867. Source: Illustrated London News.)

News of his encounter with a "ship full of skeletons" spread quickly throughout the islands. It was not long before a dozen fishing boats set out for the wreck.  Eventually it was towed into the harbour and pulled onto the beach by the authorities for further investigation.  Any sailor could see that the wreck was once a beautiful ship. It must have drifted for many months, for its beams were worm-eaten and rotten. The paint that bore her name had faded.

And everyone wanted to know what had happened to her and her crew. The skeletonised remains were carefully brought ashore and examined for clues by the officials in charge. A chain with a silver medal was found around the neck of one of the victims. The inscription read, "Awarded by the School Board as a reward for services to Wm. Brown, the gift of Franklin".  Underneath were crossed pens over an open book. On one of the skeletons, the name J. Seaver was discovered sewn into the clothing, while another had the name N. Seaver. Investigators suspected that these poor souls must have been Americans, as they had a connection to Franklin.  The papers found in the cabin were damaged and illegible. The ship's cargo included rotten meat and fish as well as sperm candles, cider, brandy and lumber. The barrels containing the beef, pork and mackerel were marked "Boston, September, October and November 1832".

Reports of the discovery of the wreck were published in the local weekly newspaper, the Bermuda Royal Gazette, over the next month. At first, the paper stated succinctly that a wreck of unknown origin had been found on the bottom of the reefs and towed to Ely's Harbour. A week later, on 7 January 1834, the newspaper reported that the wreck had been righted and unloaded and that "some human bones were found in its cabin". On 21 January, the Gazette described the medal found on one of the victims on the wreck and the fact that the names Seaver and Brown were widely used in Massachusetts.  Eventually, news of the disaster reached the United States.

When Bostonians read the local Statesmen on Saturday morning, 8 February 1834, they were shocked by the description of the wreck in Bermuda and the grisly remains on board. The description of the schooner matched that of the Eliza Ann, which was captained by a Captain Brown.  The Eliza Ann belonged to James Brown, a well-known Boston merchant. On board was William Brown, one of the winners of the Boston Franklin Medal of 1829, who wore the silver medal on a chain around his neck. His brother James was also on board. The schooner's captain, Captain Brown, was a nephew of the shipowner, and among the passengers were Joshua Seaver and his brother, which might not have happened if they had travelled separately, which they should never do. Because what does superstition say ? Never serve with siblings on the same ship, it never ends well.

What we know is that the Eliza Ann had sailed from Boston on 11 December 1832 for Puerto Rico, but never arrived. So we know her sad fate, but not what happened on that last voyage, and no one knows to this day.