#Coop Bolton

[eatgecom]

A cool design of the retro cartoon TV series - Street Sharks, which was aired from 1994 to 1997.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

One Eyed Beauties 🗡 | Beric Dondarrion blurb

Game of Thrones Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Beric Dondarrion x reader (romantic)

Content warnings: profanity, fluff, mentions of war and injury, implied suggestive content | female!reader (no use of Y/n, she/her pronouns) | wc: 600

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Premise: Beric Dondarrion was a man of many talents, including coming back from the dead. After years of being with the Brotherhodo without Banners, the once famed knight of Westeros met his match with a lady who bore quite the similarities to himself.

——————

*Clink* *clink*

A grunt followed by a chuckle rang out in the open, Beric sitting up after his back met the hard grass. “Well done, my Lady.”

The lady in question makes a *humph* sound, the crunch of the dirt beneath her boots echoing as she repositions her stance. “Getting slow, Ser Beric? Wouldn’t have thought you to be so easily distracted.”

Beric playfully rolls his eye, “And I wouldn't have thought you to play unfair.”

“Unfair?” She scoffs, watching him stand up. Her one eye meets his own, “I only did what you would’ve done.” The sun hits her face from within the tree line, illuminating the color of her only visible eye while highlighting the color of her red eyepatch covering her lost one.

God she was beautiful.

Strong, intelligent, not afraid to speak her mind and a leader among people. A woman who stepped up despite all against her and fight for what was right. Loyal beyond most men.

How ironic for the Lord of Blackhaven to have met his second half bearing similar resemblance to his own. A one-eyed beauty herself, the former Lady of the Last Hearth was a dear friend to Ned Stark and a vessel house to Lords of Winterfell. During Robert’s Rebellion she fought with the North against the Mad King where she lost her left eye in combat.

Following the death of her father and older brother in the war and with no husband or heir besides herself, she took claim as the Lady of the last Hearth. Peace followed the end of the Targaryen dynasty until fourteen years after the rebellion when Robert died and the line of his succession was challenged prompting the execution of Ned Stark.

As bannerman for the North, she supported Rob Stark’s during the War of the Five Kings, narrowly escaping the Red Wedding resulting in the slaughter of her men. Going into hiding, she remained alone for nearly a year until she was discovered by the Brotherhood without Banners. Of course she knew who they were. After all, she was there when Ned Stark had created the group. Only there were more members and they followed the Lord of Light instead of the Old Gods of the Forest or Faith of the Seven.

Beric instantly took a liking to her. With her sharp tongue, hatred for Lannisters and thirst for revenge against the Freys and Boltons, Beric felt a connection to her. Plus they both shared the trait of having one eye and a talent with a sword.

They argued and bickered. Sometimes getting into duels for the mere boredom being cooped up in the woods—which was entertaining for the rest of the Brothers. Beric liked to get under her skin and she would joke, “better watch yourself, Ser Beric. One of these days I might kill you and Thoros won’t be there to resurrect your stubborn ass.”

Falling in love was bound to happen between the two. Well, everyone else expected it. Hell even the Hound got to the point he couldn’t deal with the sexual tension and called them out for it, “will you two just fuck already? Watching you two dance around each other like we’re at a fuckin’ ball is becoming suffocating.”

Clegane would come to regret saying that. Because the two made it a point to be obvious with their nightly activities. Purposely being loud to annoy the man and openly flirting any given chance they got. “Fuck me.”

At her assumption, the knight chuckles under his breath, “I guess you are right to think such. A clever move on your part.”

“Oh darling, you should know by now I’m the clever one between us.” Raising her sword, the woman tilts her head, “Are you ready?” Beric positions himself directly in front of her but gives some distance. Raising his own sword, a smirk paints his mouth.

“Come at me with your best, love,”

[thevoyageurmoteplass-writing]

‘I could’ve sworn,’ came Gemima’s voice, making Claudine stiffen ever so slightly, ‘many moons ago, you told me you were quitting.’

Claudine exhaled slowly, letting the smoke linger in the air before offering her a dismissive shrug.

Habit, however, still had him tentatively offer her the cigarette.

‘Pregnancy actually helped curb that particular addiction,’ she said, stepping up beside him.

While London was never exactly quiet, there was something about ten past three in the morning that seemed to mean it was as close to it as possible. Though, that might also have been because it was a Tuesday.

‘You raised a good one there, Gem,’ he said, before taking another long drag of the cigarette.

‘Generally, or for the fight against demon kind?’

Claudine spluttered on his exhale, and Gemima whacked him on the back with a practiced hand.

‘You could’ve just hit me outright,’ he complained, stubbing the cigarette out. He hadn’t really needed it, just needed a reason not to be cooped up in the guest room he didn’t deserve. Least of all if it might ruffle Rufus’s feathers. Though, he doubted it would. That man was as close to saintly as a human could get.

‘No fun in that,’ she teased.

Claudine scoffed, shook his head and glanced back out across the park. Green space in London was a luxury, and Gemima Bolton had carved that life out for herself and Alia long before Rufus Underwood arrived in the picture.

‘Generally,’ he told her, finding the admittance far easier when not looking at her. ‘No one’s good for that.’

‘‘Cept you?’

Claudine closed his eyes, took a breath. He’d spent his whole life on that fight, and what had he really achieved?

He felt a careful hand on his back, and instinctively stiffened. Where some people might have moved, Gem didn’t. She stood firm.

‘You are good at it, Rich,’ she offered softly. ‘Just don’t forget to live for you too, right?’ ‘Right,’ he breathed, knowing she wouldn’t leave until he did. But also really hoping part of him could believe her words. If not immediately, then certainly one day.

[faithhearted]

Despite the time apart being significantly shorter this time around, Moira had been all the more anxious. She was excited that her Benjamin would be close by amid the imperative espionage, it soothed her, in part, but at the same time, she was concerned that he would be lingering inside the lion’s den. Was it possible this was more dangerous for him than the battlefield? Truly, she didn’t like thinking about that either. 

She didn’t know how, but Moira knew Benjamin was there before one of the British sentries had come storming into the house, finding her at the base of the staircase and seizing her arm to drag her outside. 

Dear God. Had they been found out already? 

Though her heart raced with fear, Moira forced herself to remain composed as she silently jerked free of the soldier's grasp (only after he'd relented), straightening as one hand instinctively slid protectively over her belly. It was still early, but in the last few weeks, should one care to observe closely enough, a noticeable swell indicating her delicate condition could be made out through the fabric of her clothing. 

"Name, status, and reason for employment," the other soldier commanded her. "And better yet, do you know this man?" 

Name: Moira Tallmadge. 

“Moira Bolton.”

Status: Livid. 

“Employed as a maid for General Clinton.”

Reason for employment: to spy on him and unravel the plans of the British Army.

“To better serve the crown.” 

Finally, her eyes softening, she glanced at Benjamin, “This is my husband, John Bolton. He wrote to me a fortnight back and said he’d be enlisting and joining me in New York and had news he could share with no one but the general himself.” 

Neither soldier, despite being convinced, looked pleased, instead sneering at the couple before the one on the right spoke up again, this time through a grumble, “Escort them both inside and fetch the general from upstairs.” Here he turned to Benjamin, jabbing the bayonet in his direction in final opposition, “And whatever you have to say, it’d better be worth his time.” 

Finally, finally, after being escorted into the living room, they were left alone, even if it were only for a fraction of a moment, They’d both been ordered to sit, side by side, and unable to contain her relief that he was there with her, Moira reached for his hand and offered an ardent squeeze, though she kept her gaze forward. 

“Don’t be nervous,” she softly said, almost as if speaking to herself, “I’m certain Clinton will be grateful for your help.”

On cue, the general and the second sentry officer came tromping down the stairs, the general adjusting his lapel and clearing his throat, having been cooped up in his office quietly for the better half of the day. 

“This must be our newest recruit then,” he sputtered, sizing Benjamin up before flashing a rather pleased looking smile, “Well, you seem young and healthy enough. On behalf of our good King, we welcome your support, lad. I also hear you’re my comely little maid’s husband? Congratulations – hopefully soon, the two of you will be able to begin your married lives in peace, yet again.” 

Once the obligatory pleasantries were out of the way, the general adopted a more serious look, his militant demeanor returning. He nodded to the sentry to return to his post and gave Moira a stern glance that meant for her to return to her work, which she did promptly, sparing Benjamin a glance over her shoulder before departing from the room. 

“Now what’s this about imperative news you have to share, son?”

------

With the plan set into motion, Benjamin was helpless but to follow the ongoing trajectory. He mailed the letter announcing his intentions -- My poor, sick uncle is no more; I intend to return to you and fulfill my duty to the Crown -- and after allowing another week or so to pass, he scaled the steps to where Moira informed him that both she and Clinton presently lived.

Naturally, the outside was heavily guarded. Two redcoats with bayonets immediately surged forward.

"Halt!" the one on his left commanded. "Who goes there?"

"My name is John Bolton, husband to General Clinton's house staff, Moira O'Shea...or Moira Bolton now. I've come seeking an audience with the general. Now that I have enlisted, I believe I have valuable information to spare."

The redcoat on the right spared his partner a skeptical glance. Clearly, Benjamin looked the part since he was also dressed in His Majesty's fine raiment, but it was quite easier to don the clothes of a soldier than it was to be one.

"Go inside and fetch the girl," the soldier on the right commanded to his friend. "Bring her out here, and see what she says."

The soldier on the left nodded, then disappeared indoors. While they waited, Benjamin was kept company by the bayonet's fierce point. After what felt like an eternity, the soldier from earlier returned with Moira in tow, his hand gripping her elbow in a tight, controlling hold that Benjamin immediately disliked. He tried his best not to scowl as they approached.

"Name, status, and reason for employment," the soldier on the right commanded Moira. "And better yet, do you know this man?" Here, he gestured sharply at their guest with his bayonet.

Benjamin kept his palms uplifted, his expression deceptively calm despite the underlying thrum-thrum-thrum of his pulse.

[giorgiogostblr]

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[torchwood-99]

Arya's political education.

She is learning to read people, to see through their lies, and create characters and lies for herself. Pretty incredibly useful skills for any politician. Skills that can take her to any court in the world and help her play the game. 

She attended Roose Bolton during meetings, acting as his cup bearer, which is the exact same thing heirs and young nobles do when they are having their political training. (she was also smart enough to guess that Roose; despite being Robb’s bannerman, was not to be trusted with her identity.)

And most crucially, she is having an intense political education by experiencing the brutality inflicted on the small folk as a result of the political dealings and fall outs of the nobles. The worst aspect of Westeros is the cruelty the small-folk face, and how their work is the backbone of the nation and yet they reap precious few rewards from it. 

Poverty, oppression, indentured servitude and exploitation are all political issues, and they desperately need addressing. They are quite probably the most important issue politics need to solve.

It is so easy for nobles who have been cooped up in court, playing games with each other and catching only glimpses of the suffering their choices have on the population. And a large part of the fandom evidently feel the same way. But Arya isn’t going to forget any time soon. And she knows what makes small folk vulnerable and how that vulnerability is exploited by the nobility.  

Sigils, dancing, pretty manners. That is all just a facade, something that Arya can study and learn. Just like she is learning to take on multiple different characters. They are all just masks. Arya doesn’t need to be a ‘gracious lady’, she just needs to be able to pretend. And she is currently having a master class in pretending. 

But a true and unvarnished look at the lies of the vast majority of Westeros is crucial information for anyone who wants to enter into politics with a desire to do good. 

[hookedonapirate]

Sneak Peek—Lady Cassidy's Lover

This is a sneak peek of the Lady Chatterley's Lover AU I'm working on.

Note: Lady Cassidy's Lover is a working title and may change. Despite Emma's last name and marriage to him, this is not a swanfire fic and is ant-Neal.

Sneak peek is rated M for detailed nudity.

Every day, Emma goes through the motions, brutally aware that among all the nothingness is this empty treadmill of what Neal refers to as the integrated life—the extended period of two individuals cohabiting the same home. 

That is how he defined their marriage! 

And he wonders why she had fallen ill. The stark realization that her husband is merely a shell of the man she once knew—or maybe he never truly was who she thought he was—the realization that he will never show her the love and affection she so badly craves is enough to make any wife sick to her stomach.

Mrs. Bolton had prescribed rest and fresh air, and now that Emma doesn’t have to take care of Neal every second of the day, it feels as though a huge weight has been lifted from her shoulders. She feels a sense of freedom she hasn’t felt in a long while. And now she is using that freedom to go for a walk by herself. Not that Neal could go, even if he wanted to.

It had rained, the grass blades glistening with droplets, and the paths are too sodden for his wheelchair, but now that he has a caregiver to tend to him, he has no reason to keep Emma cooped up inside all the time. So she goes out alone when she can, walking or riding her bicycle, visiting the creek and reading her books on a tree stump.

Today, however, Neal wants her to stop by the gamekeeper's cottage to see when the baby pheasants will hatch.

Butterflies form in her stomach in anticipation of seeing him again. 

As she emerges from the forest on the north side and sees the keeper’s cottage in the distance, it appears to be uninhabited from afar. But as she makes her way toward it, smoke is rising from the chimney and she can spot a well-kept garden of flowers in front of the house.

The backyard is enclosed by a low stone wall, but before she reaches the gate, she spots the gamekeeper undressing, unaware of her presence just beyond the wall. 

Her breath catches, and she stands frozen, her feed seeming to be nailed to the ground. 

The keeper's velveteen breeches slip down his legs, and once he pulls them off, this beautiful man is standing there naked, his perfectly round butt on full display. Emma is finally able to move her feet enough to dart behind a tree so he won’t catch her staring at him, and she peaks around the tree trunk, her heartbeat spiking in her chest as she watches him.

He turns to fill a bucket with water, his flaccid penis swaying softly as he drags a wet rag over his face. He scrubs the cloth over his broad, muscular shoulders and arms, through his chest hair and down his hard stomach where a dark, thin trail leads her eyes below his waist. 

She grabs onto a twig to keep herself steady as he scrubs at his manhood and the dark curls there. She bites her bottom lip, her heart pounding, cheeks hot. Tossing the rag into the bucket, he uses his hands to lather his heavenly body with soap, making sure not to miss any inch of skin. Not that she blames him.

She had no idea what a god he was underneath all those fabrics.

When she’d last seen him, he was fully dressed, wearing trousers and a jacket, not allowing her to see much skin, but now it’s all there in front of her.

There’s usually nothing out of the ordinary about a man washing himself. She had witnessed Neal clean himself several times after she helped him into the bath, so why did the vision before her make her weak in the knees? Why do her hands itch to replace his own, itch to feel every inch of rough skin and the hard muscle underneath.

It's improper to watch him like this. Very improper. She is a married woman and he is her husband's servant, for heaven's sake! But it's been a while since seeing a naked man has made her feel flustered, and she can't seem to peel her eyes away. Honestly, she's not sure she has ever felt this flustered over seeing a naked man.

He lifts his leg onto a low stool and runs his hands over his thick, muscular legs and firm butt before switching to the other leg and repeating the process. Her breathing picks up sharply, her center swarming with heat as he wraps his soapy fingers around his shaft, stroking his hand up and down, his cock sliding through his fist.

The twig snaps when she grips it a little too tightly, and realizing he had heard the sound, she throws herself completely behind the tree before he looks her way. When she dares to sneak another peek, she's relieved to see she has not been caught. He continues where he’d left off, lathering his balls and caressing them softly, making sure they are thoroughly cleaned.

She has to turn around briefly, lest her legs decide to give out on her, breathing coming quick and shallow. A few moments later, he is rinsing off and wrapping a towel around his waist.

She waits while he goes inside and gets dressed (and while she regains her bearings so she won’t be so flustered) before she goes over and knocks on the door of his cottage to...

What exactly was she sent here for?

[stxrfclls]

eyes  narrow  at  the  retort  ,  myranda  simmering  from  what  was  playful  to  now  annoyance.  while  he  may  have  a  valid  point  ,  the  youngest  bolton  would  refuse  to  admit  it.  she  was  raised  to  look  up  to  her  siblings  and  look  up  to  them  she  did  ,  but  the  days  of  being  babied  were  long  over.  even  then  ,  myr  liked  to  play  as  if  they  were  not  ,  seeing  if  she  could  invoke  actual  guilt  on  her  siblings.  it  rarely  worked.  "  i  expect  you  to  not  let  me  waste  my  time  attempting  to  visit  you  by  informing  me  you  are  no  longer  in  spear  tower.  "  she  shares  instead  ,  rolling  her  eyes  at  how  stupid  it  sounded.  "  the  guards  said  you  were  released  days  ago  ,  i  need  to  know  if  this  is  true  or  if  i  get  to  poison  their  tea.  "  she  wouldn't  kill  them  while  they  were  all  cooped  up  ,  but  perhaps  something  to  cause  a  great  sickness  would  be  fun.

        if  they  hailed  from a  family  that had raised them differently, instilled different ( weaker ) values into them, then concern might color his expression. they were not, however. instead, he crossed his arms. he wasn't obtuse nor was she that subtle, not to kieran who knew his sisters. but he also wasn't going to feed into her wounded feelings when he'd done nothing wrong. if he hadn't wanted to see her then he wouldn't be standing here now. if she wanted to be a brat about the timing, despite doing nothing herself to alter it, then that was her decision.        ❝ and yet expect me to come looking for you like one. ❞

[feuillemorts]

𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨  ﹔  astris saltcliffe， @stxrfclls． 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯  ﹔  a tavern， sunspear．

unwilling to sit cooped up in the bolton suite, agnar had made his way into the city in search of something to occupy himself with, be it a drink or a fight. this was not the first tavern he had tried, but as he was about to leave, his gaze caught on a familiar figure who he then made his way towards　—　perhaps he might be able to fulfill both wishes tonight, after all.  　“ well, look who it is,”　 a flat glare and tilt of his head was enough to get the poor excuse for an ironborn out of the seat next to astris, which agnar then occupied, throwing an arm over the back of her chair. 　“ my bitch of a little sister, all grown up and out drinking with strange men. whatever would our mother say. ”

[cherrycheridarling]

girl crush | t.h.

tom holland x singer!reader

(read pt two: track number seven after)

warnings: swearing and sadness

summary: tom's new love interest has you writing a new song.

{listen to girl crush by little big town (if you want) i put the link to harry styles' version}

a/n: can you tell i'm a harry stan?

wc: 1.4k

Ring! Ring! Ring!

"Hello?" you picked up your phone without looking at the caller ID.

"Y/N!" Zendaya's voice filled your ears.

You smiled and set down your guitar, "Hi, Daya. What's up? You're still in London?"

"Yeah, for a few more weeks. You haven't been on social media, have you?" she asked, ignoring your greeting.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "No, I've been writing all day. Why?"

She let out a long sigh, "Um, I'll send you the link to the article. I'm coming over with ice cream and vodka. See you soon. Love you." she ended the call quickly, leaving you confused.

Within seconds, a notification popped up on the top of your screen.

dumbass daya

https://www.google.ca/amp/s/www.seventeen.com/celebrity/celebrity-couples/amp28447310/tom-holland-mystery-girlfriend-olivia-bolton/

Oh.

You knew that clicking on the link would only cause pain. You knew that most of these articles were utter bullshit that companies created to get views and clicks. But something about her name rang a bell in your mind.

Olivia Bolton.

She'd been a family friend of Tom's for a while. She works in digital production and recently graduated. Tom tried to drag you to her graduation, but you barely knew the girl and found it odd to go to her graduation ceremony.

You'd met her once or twice when you went to the pub with Tom and the boys and she happened to be there. She was kind to you. Asking about your life, saying she was a huge fan of your songs.

You usually knew all about Tom's love life. He'd come over and update you about new girls he thought were fit or a pretty woman that sat on the train next to him. But you were so focused on finishing your album that you barely had any time to talk to Tom. You were continuously writing song after song.

Tom knew that your career always came first, so when you stopped showing up at his house and your contact didn't come up on his screen, he knew you were deep into your work. And he respected that. You were his best friend after all.

And being his best friend was amazing, but it came with its challenges. Unspoken feelings. Your crush on Tom was known to everyone except Tom. You made it your mission to keep it secret. You valued your friendship with Tom too much to let silly feelings ruin your bond.

You were definitely regretting that decision right now. As you read the article, your heart seemed to fold into itself, a pathetic attempt to save itself from breaking.

"Tom is happy he was able to finally tell the world about her."

Could've given you a heads up.

"It's the real deal. Olivia and Tom have the blessing of their families, according to the source."

Fuck their blessings.

""All their friends and family think they make a lovely couple," they said. "He is totally smitten""

Not all of them.

As you dived further into the internet, trying to find out more about Olivia, you stumbled upon a series of pictures. Them at a bar? A party? Summer Time Hyde Park Festival.

You were supposed to go, but ultimately your guitar and piano kept you cooped up at home. You didn't know if you were glad that you didn't show up or if you wished you had thrown away the instruments and went to the festival.

Her arms were wrapped around his back. Touching him. Caressing him. Laughing with him. Holding his hand. Doing everything you wished you could.

You were so engrossed in the article, no noise could be heard in your home other than your heavy breathing and sniffles. You didn't know when the tears started, but you knew they weren't stopping anytime soon.

'I hate her' you thought to yourself. But you didn't. You couldn't. She hadn't done any wrong unto you. She was living the life you dreamed of. Holding the man you dreamed of.

With a final sniffle and huff, you threw your phone on your couch. Anger getting the best of you as you grabbed your guitar and sat up. Nothing makes for better songs than a broken heart.

You quickly pressed record on your abused phone before setting it down again. Mindlessly strumming the strings. Tears fogging your vision. Falling onto your lap and staining your grey joggers.

"Stop fucking crying, Y/N. God." you spoke to yourself.

You took a deep breath. In through your nose, out through your mouth.

"I got a girl crush. I hate to admit it, but I got a heart rush. It ain't slowing down. I got it real bad. Want everything she has. That smile and that midnight laugh, she's giving you now." you sang so softly, you didn't even know if your phone could pick it up.

He's probably kissed her and held her and cuddled with her. Ran his hands through her hair. Whispered cheeky comments in her ear to make her blush. You knew your own thoughts were sabotaging you, but they were true.

"I want to taste her lips. Yeah, 'cause they taste like you. I want to drown myself in a bottle of her perfume. I want her long blonde hair."

Her stupid blonde hair.

"I want her magic touch. Yeah, 'cause maybe then you'd want me just as much. And I've got a girl crush. I've got a girl crush."

Maybe it was your mind's sad effort at denying your feelings for Tom. You didn't have a crush on him, you had a crush on her. She was what you wanted. You wanted her.

No, you wanted to be her.

"I don't get no sleep."

Not after this.

"I don't get no peace. Thinking about her under your bedsheets. The way that she's whispering. The way that she's pulling you in. Lord knows I've tried, can't get her off of my mind."

You sang through the chorus again. Tears cascading down your cheeks. If someone were to walk in, they'd definitely think you were mentally unstable. And maybe you were.

You knew that as long as they were together, you wouldn't be able to rest. Your head would create scenarios of them. Egging you on. Testing you. Pushing you to your limit.

You finished the song and faded out the guitar. Carelessly tossing it to the side and ending the voice note. Burying your head in your hands and letting your sobs ring out around the house. Your throat hurt from all the pressure being put on it, but you couldn't care less. Any makeup you had on, washed away with you tears. Discarded on your floor.

You knew this day would come. The day where Tom found someone. His person. His source of happiness that wasn't you. You prepared yourself for this day, but not to this extent. You couldn't have prepared yourself for the bombarding of photographs on your screen or the articles that romanticized their night out. Almost shoving it in your face that you weren't the one with him.

You weren't the one getting drinks with him. Holding hands with him. Laughing about his stupid jokes. That wasn't your job anymore. It wasn't your place. And it was a hard pill to swallow, but Zendaya knew the remedy.

"Y/N?" she let herself in with her spare key.

A bottle of vodka and tubs of ice cream in her hands, as promised. She set the contents down on your kitchen island before making her way over to you. Your cries hadn't subsided. Still vibrating through your body. Ripping open your throat. Abusing your vocal chords, stinging your eyes.

She didn't say anything for a while, she just held you because that's what you needed. A shoulder to cry on, a friend to rant to. Tom couldn't be that person anymore. Her hands rubbed up and down your back, painfully bringing your mind back to the pictures of them.

After what seemed like hours, your sobs grew quieter. Tears still fell, but no noise left your mouth. You harshly wiped at your eyes and threw yourself back on the couch. Hiccups escaping your lips.

Zendaya sent you a sad smile, "Vodka or ice cream?" she passed you a tissue.

You let out a pitiful attempt at a laugh before grabbing the offering, "Vodka and ice cream, please."

[tory-ben-hi-shelton]

my favourite quotes from exposure

Multiple sets of handcuffs appeared and were applied. Bailiffs began peeling off the dog-pile like layers of an onion. And there, at the bottom of the scrum, was Kit. He was panting like a marathoner, arms still wrapping the Gamemaster's legs in a death grip. He'd clearly been the first to react.

"Oh, man!" Shelton had both hands on his dome. He seemed winded, despite not having moved during the attack. "Things just got real in here."

"Sorry I froze in there, Tor." Shelton frowned as he shirt wiped his glasses. "Not exactly my 'One Shining Moment', huh?" I waved off his apology. I knew Shelton hated how skittish he could be.

I try to hide the eruptions, but the guys can always tell. They do their best to support me even though it makes them uncomfortable. It's very sweet, but teenage boys make lousy grief counsellors.

The previous semester, Ben had been in half our classes, too, despite being a junior. Obviously, he was no longer around. Sometimes it felt like a limb was missing.

"Jason might be there," Courtney chirped. "He likes you."

"Oh." Not a brilliant response. "Yeah, maybe. I might have a thing, though."

Wonderful. Good job, good effort, Tory.

Behind me, I heard Hi fake coughing to cover his snickers

"I should be a secret agent." Hi blew on his fingernails, then buffed them on his lapel. "Or a magician. Maybe both. Someone write that down."

My hands shot for the Ray-Bans, but Ben caught my fingers mid-flight.

"It's not nice to grab," he said calmly.

"I can't handle all this tension," Shelton moaned. "Too much fighting."

Hi nodded, watching Ben dissapear down a side street. "We need to work on our conflict management. Maybe attend a seminar."

"Make your own?" Hi shifted to look at my face. "Victoria Grace, have you been holding out on me?"

"Tell me everything."

"You're not gonna be happy," Hi warned. "Don't kill the messenger."

"Or his good-looking buddy," Shelton added.

"On Saturday Ben and I drove to John's Islands to see Skyfall."

"You did?" Hi said sharply. "Thanks for the invite, jerks."

Shelton raised his palms. "You were at temple. We're suppose to wait around? Plus, you've seen that movie like five times."

"You still could've asked," Hi grumbled. "I don't—"

"Guys!" I clapped my hands once. "The story, please."

"So many gentleman admirers," Hi mused. "Must be tough, being a heartbreaker."

"Zip it. Unless you wanna see a leg-breaker too."

Ella adopted a mock serious tone. "Will you bodyguards consent?"

I giggled. "If Shelton and Hi are my bodyguards, I don't like my chances. And yes."

"See this?" Ben glanced at the mirror and pointed to his chin. "This is my 'couldn't care less' face."

"Boys?" I stood and faced them. "Something to share?"

"It was a secret." Hi aimed a kick at Shelton, who dodged easily. "Ben made us swear not to tell."

I crossed my arms. Waited.

"Tell Kit we're cutting a music video," Hi suggested as we walked. "Something real gangster, so we need to smash-cut our dance routines. Lay down some visuals. We could offer to let him freestyle rap over the second verse."

"Come on, Sambo!" Hi winked. "Live a little. What are we going to do, rob the place?"

The guard crossed his arms. "Wink at me again, Hiram, and I'll throw you to the wolfpack."

"Did I not mention that?" My brain was truly deep fried. "We went together."

"Oh." Hi and Shelton at once. Ben looked away.

"Hey, wait." I leaned closer to the screen. "You guys wouldn't have wanted to go. I took Ella so I wouldn't be paraded around like Whitney's toy poodle." No one spoke. Nonplussed, I decided to change the subject.

I glowered at Ben from the backseat. I'd given Hi shotgun, having sensed this argument was inevitable. I didn't want to be close. The urge to slap might become overpowering.

"Why don't we use our friendly words?" Hi suggested. "Let's take five, and everyone can say something we like about each other. I'll start. Shelton you're super at—"

"Shut up, Hi!" Ben and I shouted, the first thing we'd agreed upon all morning.

"Must be hell to keep the pH balance correct. I know how it is. I owned a goldfish once."

"Once?" Shelton asked.

"It died. Almost immediately."

"Nice work."

"It's a cultural thing," Hi was saying. "I think you're being insensitive."

Hines snorted. "Do you want me to cuff you?"

"Kinda."

"A minute alone, Tory. I'd like a quick chat."

Ben shot forward. "You can stick chat right up—"

Hi waved at me from across the yard, waiting for his mother to arrive. Apparently he'd body-blocked the first cops to chase me through the house. The police were none too pleased. I owe you one, Hi. You bought me enough time.

Entering the Virals chat room, I found all three boys present.

Uh oh.

They'd met there ahead of time, before alerting me. To discuss me.

I glanced up to see Shelton holding latex gloves. Hi had the ziplocks. Ben handed me a cotton swab and stopper. "Anything else?"

Despite the circumstances, I smiled.

Ruth popped her son on the back of the head. "Mind your manners, Hiram."

"Why does everyone do that?" Hi muttered. "And that was child abuse. In front of the police, I might add."

He looked away. The harbour breeze ruffled his silky black hair. My hand found his, almost by its own volition.

I couldn't be mad at Ben anymore. It was like being mad at my left arm. And right then, I needed my arm back.

A smile quirked on my father's lips. "And you, Mr. Blue? Ready for a good ol'-fashioned backyard barbecue? My daughter will be there."

Ben's uneasy smile was his only response.

Ben reached up from where he was lying with his eyes closed. Smacked Hi's dome.

Hi rubbed his head. "I'm getting pretty tired of that move."

"Then quit being a dope." Ben's lids remained shut.

"Hey, sure. No problem. I just need to—"

Hi lunged for Ben, intending a flying body slam. Ben caught Hi in midair and tossed him downhill in one quick motion. Hi tumbled, rolled, and dropped over the berm of the sand.

"That was dumb." Hi informed the blue sky.

Ben started talking about Wando High. I countered with news of Bolton. Before long, we'd exchanged stories, catching up on the last five months of each other's lives. I hadn't realized how much I missed Ben. How badly I wanted him back at Bolton.

He was right, of course. I was keeping several secrets from Ben. Like how comfortable it felt to be alone with him. How much I'd missed his reassuring presence. His quiet strength.

Ben removed his shoes, plunged both feet into the lapping salt waters Then he leaned back against a post, sighing contently. The little-boy maneuver brought a smile to my face.

"You're staying out here?" Shelton asked. "Alone?"

"No big deal. I don't want Kit to see what I'm up to."

"I don't like it," Ben said. Behind him, Hi looked uneasy.

"No one knows this place exists." I pointed to the other room. "And there's an 85 pound predator in there that loves me. I'll be fine."

...

"Text me when you get home." Ben requested. "Please don't forget."

I hid a smile. "Will do. Bye, guys."

I sat forward at the table. "Okay, so ... like, don't freak out."

That got their attention.

"About?" Ben took the seat across from me, next to Hiram.

"There was an incident last night." Oh so calm. "I'm perfectly okay, but on the way hone someone attacked me on the beach."

"What?!" Three stunned voices.

"That's why you didn't text," Ben muttered.

Ben shook his head in wonderment. "Incredible. It's nice having a genius around."

"It's only genius if it works." But I flushed at the compliment.

I squeezed Ben's shoulder. "Who's the genius now?"

He snorted, looked away.

"You let her go alone?" Ben scolded, slowly working his way down to where Hi was beached. "That defeats the whole purpose!"

"I'm aware of that, Benjamin." Hi tried slinging a leg onto the riverbank, but it flopped back into the rolling current. "But she'd figured out you sent her away from the mine on purpose. You try telling Tory what to do when she's pissed."

"I'll pass."

"How's the leg, detective? Or did my wolfdog bite you in the ass, instead?"

"Hey, at least it's not your birthday. Worst one ever, by the way."

His fist came up. I dapped it with mine.

"For Tory," Shelton said.

"For Tory." All jokes shelved.

Coop was rolling in the leaves, pinning someone beneath his massive bulk.

Ben dove on the tangle with a voice-cracking whoop.

I was no longer alone. The Virals had found me. Ben was beaming, unable to hide his relief. He turned quickly, wiping his glowing eyes. Shelton darted forward and crushed me with a hug. Coop was dancing and bucking, his tail wagging so hard he had trouble keeping balance. My boys. My heroes.

"Do you confronted the twins alone, without waiting for us?" Ben couldn't keep the anger from his voice. "After making us promise not to do anything like that?"

"We can discuss my impulsiveness another time—"

"Oh, we will." Ben assured me.

I ejected the spent clip from the HK45, slammed the new one into place, then worked the slide to chamber a round. Then I held the weapon loosely at my side, barrel pointed toward the ground.

"I'm terrified of you right now," Hi said wide-eyed. "And in love. Take me shooting with your aunt Tempe next time."

"Take the SUV and go. I'll stay with Ella and handle the fallout."

"Out of your mind." Ben said immediately.

"We could drive away without anybody knowing."

"I'm not leaving Tory to face this alone," Ben insisted. "Get serious!"

I spoke softly. "The cops will eat you alive, Benjamin Blue. You have to go."

Ben tensed, ready to argue.

"Detective Hawfield died. This is going to get serious. It's way too much heat for you. Please be sensible."

Ben hesitated. Then his shoulders slumped.

"Maybe you're right." Deep breath. "But you're taking away the other possibility, too."

"I don't understand." I glanced over my shoulder at the approaching vehicle. "What other possibility?"

He smiled wanly. "Ben Blue, The Hero. That kinda would've been nice."

I paused, at a loss for words. My heart broke for him.

"But that's okay." Ben dug keys from his pocket. "After all, we're Virals, not heroes. And that's fine. Plus, I'm not really the hero type."

He turned to leave.

Impulsively, I grabbed Ben's arm. Pulled him close. Smashed my lips against his. The kiss only lasted a second, but also an eternity. Then I stepped back an shoved Ben towards the Explorer.

"Of course you're the type." I was grateful the darkness hid my blushes. "Now go."

Ben stared, stricken, thunderstruck. Hi and Shelton watched, wide-eyed with shock.

"Weirdest birthday ever," Hi whispered.

"Corcoran will survive," Ben commented sourly. "He always does. We crack the case, he gets to be the hero."

My head whipped to Ben. Was that bitterness?

I saw no trace. Ben was smiling, relaxed for the first time in days. Maybe months.

As my father strode away, Shelton and Hi both unleashed dramatic yawns.

"Welp." Hi stretch his arms over his head. "I'd better go check on various things that aren't right here. You coming, Shelton?"

"Oh you know it." Hiding a smile. "Stuff to do. No time to waste."

I descended two steps.

Stopped.

Shot back up.

Wrapped Ben in a bone-crushing hug.

Startled, it took him a moment before he hugged me back.

"He didn't say anything to me," Hi repeated. "And if Shelton were sick, I'd be the first to hear about it. At length."

"So what's the plan?" Ben asked.

"Go inside. Look around. Improvise."

"Brilliant." Hi stroked his chin. "Quick question: Is having no plan the same as having a terrible plan, or are those different categories?"

[papermoonloveslucy]

VACATION TIME

April 29, 1949

“Vacation Time” (aka “Trailer Vacation to Goosegrease Lake”) is episode #41 of the radio series MY FAVORITE HUSBAND broadcast on April 29, 1949 on the CBS radio network.

Synopsis ~ It's vacation time, and Liz and George have decidedly different plans. He wants to go camping with a trailer he borrowed from a friend, while she's set on a glamorous vacation at Moosehead Lodge.

This episode later partly inspired the premise of “Liz Learns To Swim” aired on June 11, 1950. 

“My Favorite Husband” was based on the novels Mr. and Mrs. Cugat, the Record of a Happy Marriage (1940) and Outside Eden (1945) by Isabel Scott Rorick, which had previously been adapted into the film Are Husbands Necessary? (1942). “My Favorite Husband” was first broadcast as a one-time special on July 5, 1948. Lucille Ball and Lee Bowman played the characters of Liz and George Cugat, and a positive response to this broadcast convinced CBS to launch “My Favorite Husband” as a series. Bowman was not available Richard Denning was cast as George. On January 7, 1949, confusion with bandleader Xavier Cugat prompted a name change to Cooper. On this same episode Jell-O became its sponsor. A total of 124 episodes of the program aired from July 23, 1948 through March 31, 1951. After about ten episodes had been written, writers Fox and Davenport departed and three new writers took over – Bob Carroll, Jr., Madelyn Pugh, and head writer/producer Jess Oppenheimer. In March 1949 Gale Gordon took over the existing role of George’s boss, Rudolph Atterbury, and Bea Benaderet was added as his wife, Iris. CBS brought “My Favorite Husband” to television in 1953, starring Joan Caulfield and Barry Nelson as Liz and George Cooper. The television version ran two-and-a-half seasons, from September 1953 through December 1955, running concurrently with “I Love Lucy.” It was produced live at CBS Television City for most of its run, until switching to film for a truncated third season filmed (ironically) at Desilu and recasting Liz Cooper with Vanessa Brown.

MAIN CAST

Lucille Ball (Liz Cooper) was born on August 6, 1911 in Jamestown, New York. She began her screen career in 1933 and was known in Hollywood as ‘Queen of the B’s’ due to her many appearances in ‘B’ movies. With Richard Denning, she starred in a radio program titled “My Favorite Husband” which eventually led to the creation of “I Love Lucy,” a television situation comedy in which she co-starred with her real-life husband, Latin bandleader Desi Arnaz. The program was phenomenally successful, allowing the couple to purchase what was once RKO Studios, re-naming it Desilu. When the show ended in 1960 (in an hour-long format known as “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour”) so did Lucy and Desi’s marriage. In 1962, hoping to keep Desilu financially solvent, Lucy returned to the sitcom format with “The Lucy Show,” which lasted six seasons. She followed that with a similar sitcom “Here’s Lucy” co-starring with her real-life children, Lucie and Desi Jr., as well as Gale Gordon, who had joined the cast of “The Lucy Show” during season two. Before her death in 1989, Lucy made one more attempt at a sitcom with “Life With Lucy,” also with Gordon.

Richard Denning (George Cooper) was born Louis Albert Heindrich Denninger Jr., in Poughkeepsie, New York. When he was 18 months old, his family moved to Los Angeles. Plans called for him to take over his father’s garment manufacturing business, but he developed an interest in acting. Denning enlisted in the US Navy during World War II. He is best known for his  roles in various science fiction and horror films of the 1950s. Although he teamed with Lucille Ball on radio in “My Favorite Husband,” the two never acted together on screen. While “I Love Lucy” was on the air, he was seen on another CBS TV series, “Mr. & Mrs. North.” From 1968 to 1980 he played the Governor on “Hawaii 5-0″, his final role. He died in 1998 at age 84.

Bea Benadaret (Iris Atterbury) and Gale Gordon (Rudolph Atterbury) do not appear in this episode. 

Ruth Perrott (Katie, the Maid) was also later seen on “I Love Lucy.” She first played Mrs. Pomerantz (above right), a member of the surprise investigating committee for the Society Matrons League in “Pioneer Women” (ILL S1;E25), as one of the member of the Wednesday Afternoon Fine Arts League in “Lucy and Ethel Buy the Same Dress” (ILL S3;E3), and also played a nurse when “Lucy Goes to the Hospital” (ILL S2;E16). She died in 1996 at the age of 96.

Bob LeMond (Announcer) also served as the announcer for the pilot episode of “I Love Lucy”. When the long-lost pilot was finally discovered in 1990, a few moments of the opening narration were damaged and lost, so LeMond – fifty years later – recreated the narration for the CBS special and subsequent DVD release.

GUEST CAST

Frank Nelson (Policeman) was born on May 6, 1911 (three months before Lucille Ball) in Colorado Springs, Colorado. He started working as a radio announcer at the age of 15. He later appeared on such popular radio shows as “The Great Gildersleeve,” “Burns and Allen,” and “Fibber McGee & Molly”. This is one of his 11 performances on “My Favorite Husband.”  On “I Love Lucy” he holds the distinction of being the only actor to play two recurring roles: Freddie Fillmore and Ralph Ramsey, as well as six one-off characters, including the frazzled train conductor in “The Great Train Robbery” (ILL S5;E5), a character he repeated on “The Lucy Show.”  Aside from Lucille Ball, Nelson is perhaps most associated with Jack Benny and was a fifteen-year regular on his radio and television programs.  

Wally Maher (Joe Risley) was born on August 4, 1908 in Cincinnati, Ohio. He was known for Mystery Street (1950), The Reformer and the Redhead (1950) and Hollywood Hotel (1937). He was heard with Lucille Ball in the Lux Radio Theatre version of “The Dark Corner” (1947), taking the role originated on film by William Bendix. He died on December 27, 1951.

Milton Stark (Filling Station Attendant) was a theatre actor and director, who also appeared on radio and television, although usually in supporting roles.  He also worked as a dialogue coach and acting teacher. At UCLA a scholarship was established in his name. He lived to the age of 103. 

EPISODE

ANNOUNCER: “As we look in on the Coopers, it is a cold rainy afternoon, but Liz is in her bedroom standing in front of the mirror wearing a back-less, strapless sun dress.” 

Liz calls Katie in to show off her sun dress, but Katie is disapproving that is so revealing.  Liz has shopped for summer vacation clothes.  Liz’s bathing suit cost’s forty dollars. 

KATIE: “That’s a lot of money for two doilies and a diaper.” 

Liz says that husbands only approve of scanty swimsuits when they are on any woman but their wives. 

LIZ: “I want to look good for George. He’s going to see a lot of me this summer.” KATIE: “He’s not the only one!”  

The topic of revealing bathing suits was later also mined for comedy on “I Love Lucy.”  In “Off To Florida” (ILL S6;E6) Ricky thinks Lucy’s new skimpy new swimsuit is for Little Ricky!  Lucy also buys a swimsuit that Ricky feels is too skimpy when shopping for their California trip in “Getting Ready” (ILL S4;E11)

Liz says they are going to Moosehead Lodge on Lake Okeechobee. Liz calls it a real swanky place.  Katie reminds Liz that George prefers more rugged vacations.  Liz says she will suggest it to George at dinner. 

Lake Okeechobee is a real place, located in central Florida, although it is far more conducive to George’s type of vacation than Liz’s, highlighting nature through fishing and nature.  

Although there are places called Moosehead Lodge in America, it unlikely that a moose would be associated with central Florida and that it would be an upscale resort of the type Liz is describing. 

At the bank, George talks to his co-worker Joe about scheduling vacations.  Joe says that his ideal vacation is in a trailer.  If George likes the idea, he will lend the Coopers his trailer.  George will suggest it to Liz at dinner. 

After dinner, both Liz and George get cozy with the idea of easing the other into going on their dream destination.  Liz ‘just happened’ to hear about a place that she vaguely remembers. 

LIZ: “I did hear of some place called Moosehead Lodge. It’s probably situated in groves of stately pines, on the shores of an emerald green lake, its rustic beauty enhanced by lawns and flower beds. Each luxurious room is furnished with clean, comfortable box spring beds, modern bathroom and shower. Ten dollars a day, American plan. Oh, George, let’s go there. We can relax and enjoy a continual round of  glorious entertainment, sports, good food, and true fellowship, see your travel agent for details.”

George realizes that Liz has been plotting a vacation.  George says he has a better idea - two weeks in a trailer.  Liz is less than keen. George says that they can borrow Joe Risley’s trailer!

LIZ: “Keen with mud on it.”

Liz is worried that nobody will see her new vacation wardrobe if they are cooped up in a trailer.  They are at an impasse.  Liz suggests they go on separate vacations.  When George reluctantly agrees, she breaks down in tears.  

Liz moans to Katie that she already misses George, and the vacation doesn’t begin for two months.  George phones from work to talk to Liz.  George offers a compromise.  They will take a trial weekend trip in the trailer, and if she doesn’t like it, he will go to Moosehead Lodge!

Vacationing in a trailer was explored by Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz in their 1953 comedy MGM’s The Long Long Trailer.  The film mines a lot of physical comedy from the trailer’s unwieldy movement and how Lucy’s character Tacy Bolton copes with it. 

ANNOUNCER: “George is just driving up with the trailer hooked up to the back of the car.”

Liz remarks how small the trailer is.  

GEORGE: “Keep an open mind.” LIZ: “I’ll have to close it or it won’t fit in that trailer.” 

They tour the inside, which is smaller than Liz thought.  Just then, a knock at the trailer door and there’s a policeman (Frank Nelson) issuing them a parking ticket! Forty bucks for parking illegally!

The next morning George and Liz get an early start on their trial trailer trip.  Liz has brought along a little light reading for the trip: “Inside Moosehead Lodge” by Liz Gunther. 

Motoring along the highway, George is enjoying the drive. 

LIZ: “Travel is great. I wouldn’t go anywhere without it.”

George says it is so smooth, you wouldn’t even know the trailer is back there.  Liz notices that it isn’t!  George forgot to hook it on!   Finally, they are off (again) to Goosegrease Lake. Liz reads one of those sequential signs along the roadside: “If Your Whiskers...  Won’t Behave... Take a Tip Use....”  Liz goes silent. 

GEORGE: “Use what?”  LIZ: “The last sign’s torn down. Now we’ll never know.” 

Almost everyone in the audience knew it was Burma-Shave.  From 1926 until 1963 the ‘brushless’ shaving cream company dotted the American highways with small red signs, each containing a line of a short rhyme that the driver could read without slowing down as they drove by.  At one time, there were over 600 different rhymes on signs!  

The idea was given a nod on a 1955 “I Love Lucy” episode “First Stop” (ILL S4;E14) with the roadside signs for Aunt Polly’s Pecan Pralines. 

LUCY: Fifty miles to Aunt Sally’s Pecan Pralines. later... LUCY: 300 yards to Aunt Sally’s! ETHEL: 200 yards! FRED: 100 yards! RICKY: Just around the bend! LUCY: You have just passed Aunt Sally’s. 

Liz is quite sure that George’s shortcut has gotten them lost. They stop to ask directions from a laid back filling station attendant (Milton Stark) who tells them they don’t want to go to Goosegrease Lake.  He suggests they go to the hot springs, instead. 

Oops! Milton Stark has trouble pronouncing ‘Goosegrease’ and  the audience is aware of his flub. When he asks Lucille Ball “What ya gonna do there?” She deliberately says “We’re gonna goose a grease”, instead of “grease a goose”, which causes more giggles from the cast and gales of laughter from the audience. 

FILLING STATION ATTENDANT: “You can’t get there from here!”

Next morning Liz wakes up and looks around.  She sees beautiful green grass and a little flag with the number 18 on it!  A golf ball comes crashing through the window. The policeman from who ticketed them earlier knocks on the trailer door. They have illegally camped out on the 18th green of the municipal golf course - only two miles from home!  Liz said they didn’t know where they were going. 

POLICEMAN: “Do you know where you’re going now?” LIZ: “Yes!  To Moosehead Lodge!” POLICEMAN: “No, to the city jail! Come on!”

End of Episode

[mermaiddragon]

Hey if you’re stuck inside and going stir crazy but not to the point that you can’t focus on written text... Could I interest you in some fanfiction I wrote ?

Draco Malfoy and the Golden Boy, where Harry has been raised by his very alive parents and Draco has been raised by Andromeda Tonks. The boys become friends on their 1st day at Hogwarts and... is that a crush in the horizon ? Draco is a snarky baby drama queen, Harry has a sibling and is a sweet potato, Sirius and Remus have a daughter, there’s sign language used to communicate with mermaids... It’s everybody lives and it’s a retelling of the first harry potter book

Draco Malfoy and the Slytherins follows the squad through their second year, shenanigans happen. Sadly it’s incomplete but still fun to read ! I haven’t given up the hope that i might one day finish it and at this point i don’t know if i’m fooling myself or not.

They were going to be okay, a jily oneshot i wrote based on a dream I had. Where Lily and a friend of hers flee in fear of a death eater attack and end up at James’ house, woops. Also, James and Lily share a love of opera.

A Coop in Twin Peaks. Look I just wanted Dale Cooper to get some rest in the arms of Albert, ok ? This takes place after season 3 of Twin Peaks and it’s supposed to be sweet domesticity but they’re all hurt inside...

Back to Winterfell. That’s my Game of Thrones modern au. Way less murder and violence. The Starks own a winter resort that was “stolen” by Ramsay Bolton but Sansa kicked him out and now she’s trying to build it back up. Also she fell in love with a girl she met on internet. Also they participate in westerovision, which is eurovision but in westeros. It’s a fun and wholesome story.

Of fights and love, a sweet oneshot where Ginny Weasley reflects on her love for Luna Lovegood and on their feminist activism

When my heart finds Christmas. Do you like fluff ? Christmas fluffy fics ? Roommates falling in love and caring for each other ? Go read this advent drarry fic, you’ll love it. Draco wants to make christmas last for as long as possible and he wants to make it super special for Harry, so he makes him a magical advent calendar. Also, someone at some point gets a dog.

Skywalker drama with a side of Kenobi. Star wars modern au, baby !!! When the fic starts, Rey meets Finn, boyfriend of Poe Dameron, adopted son of Han & Leia. Also, Anakin just got released from jail where he was thrown thanks to Padmé’s efforts (oh yeah, she’s alive and awesome). Kylo has a cult to his grandfather, which enrages him. Han is the director of an helicopter school and his friend Chewie is more or less always around. Trust me, it’s more fun than TROS.

Age of Proposals and Babies (as Tony Stark would later dictate to his diary). I got angry at Age of Ultron and this was the result. Steve tries to propose to Tony but they're both idiots and Steve’s plans keep failing. Meanwhile, Bruce and Thor are having a baby because Thor is a trans man, didnt you know ? There’s no evil lurking in the shadows, no bad guy, no threat. Just friends being a found family and supporting each other. Oh also, Steve and Tony are this close to adopting Pietro and Wanda.

The most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. Black sails modern au !!! Where John Silver instantly falls for a man he sees talking with Jack Rackham. The next day, there’s a garden party at the Rangers’ house and Jack and Vane are plotting the best way to get Silver with the man he saw... Also, in a note that might be related to this plot, Flint is in a polyam relationship with both Miranda and Thomas, and his heart is still growing and open to new encounters... It’s just fun ! Indulging in modern au and pining, as one does.

[splat-dragon]

I know every mile would be worth my while ~Go the Distance, Michael Bolton

Charles had taken to looking for the fox.

 He hadn’t realized it at first, it had been a subconscious thing, entirely his wolf.

 And then one day, while waiting for the butcher to wrap his purchase,She didn’t, though, and he was well stuck so, though his clothes were stashed at the Scarlett Horse Shop and he’d have to walk several miles naked (shifting was exhausting, if he tried to shift so soon after going human he’d collapse into a dead sleep), he began to slip into his human skin, praying that she was long gone. he’d realized that he was scanning the people walking by, looking at every flash of red but, no, that wasn’t right, not red enough, not bright enough, wasn't tinted orange. That was a dress, a shirt, not hair. His wolf had laughed at him, ‘took you long enough!’ and he’d scowled. The butcher had asked if something was wrong, but he’d just shaken his head.

Every fight, he looked for her, half-hoped to see that flash of red in the crowd, half-hoped she’d be his opponent. But she was never there, his opponent always a man. And his wolf whined every time, disappointed and hurt. And why it hurt so badly, he didn’t know. He’d met her for not even five minutes, been beaten into the ground (quite literally!), but he’d never met another shifter before, even in the hodge-podge mix of Dutch’s gang, so perhaps he was just latching onto that?

 As it was, he’d found himself sniffing around as he walked through Saint Denis, but as always the human-scents, perfumes and cologne and horse-shit, pollution and oils and all sorts of things clogged his sensitive nose, and even if she were there he’d never be able to find her scent, be able to pick it out beneath the tangle of Saint Denis.

So, on a day when he had no fights, he took out his frustrations on some poor, innocent deer. Slipped skins in Scarlett Meadows, stared at the horses penned by the stables that screamed and scattered despite the many times they’d seen him and never been harmed, and for a moment he missed his Taima though he’d left her with the Wapiti so many years ago, she’d happily trotted along at his side no matter what skin he was in, Falmouth was a good horse but still shied away no matter how much work he put into him.

 He’d never figured out how to keep himself clean while hunting or eating—it didn’t seem possible in this form, with his shearing teeth and long muzzle, having to bury his face deep into the deer, covering himself in its blood and gristle and other-such-things, so he finished his meal before making his way to his favorite lake, rich with fish and cool despite Lemoyne’s thick heat, waded in deep and watched as the fish scattered from him. Charles basked for a time, allowed the water to clean his fur, enjoying the peace and simplicity that came with slipping into his wolf’s skin; its mind was so much calmer than his, wasn’t haunted by the blood that stained his hands, by those he’d failed to save, wasn’t haunted by the memories of the rotting corpses he’d buried back in Beaver’s Hollow.

Charles had learned very young that he was a rarity no matter where he went. Though he’d decided that he was a timber wolf, or close to one, he’d never found a timber wolf that looked like him. His fur was too rich, too brown, and even when he was a pup in his shift, when he was too young for anything but the most unscrupulous trophy hunters to shoot, people had wanted him as a rug, as a mount, as a skin on their floor or their wall.

 So when he felt a pair of eyes burn into his back, he whirled about, collected his paws beneath him and prepared to run, before being frozen in place by a pair of too-green eyes glinting at him from the trees.

A fox—the Fox—sat on a stump, bushy black tail wrapped around her paws. Her jaw hung open in a canine grin, flashing sharp white teeth, and black rimmed ears pointed towards him. When she realized she’d caught his attention, she yipped a laugh, flicking her tail away to reveal his feather, pinned by the quill with her paw, before grabbing it with her teeth and bounding off the stump and into the trees in a blur of orange-red. He stared, startled, before shaking himself and barreling after, not willing to lose her after only just finding her again (though it had been she that found him), scrambling out of the lake in a flurry of scattered rocks and startled fish.

  “Wait!” he barked, and she didn’t respond in words, instead yipping loudly, pausing to look back over her shoulder, his feather dangling tantalizingly out of her mouth, and the image of her raiding a henhouse, shrieking biddies racing around their pen, pin-feathers covering her face and that grin sharp on her face. The image was broken, though, when he didn’t manage to get within five feet of her before she was off with a laughing bark, and he felt suddenly as the hound trying to keep her from the coop, snapping at her heels but never quite making it.

 The Wolf had to dig in his paws to keep from crashing into a fallen tree that she’d slipped under, scrabbling at the opening before jumping up and bounding over it, catching her eyes looking back at him before she darted through a bramble brush that he was careful to swerve around, he’d gotten stuck in one once and never again, and as he bounded after her he couldn’t help but to laugh, baying loudly, this was the most fun he’d had in years! The Fox barked wordlessly in return even as she dove under another fallen tree, the hole small enough that she wedged at her hips and had to scratch with her paws to force herself through, only barely managing to slip under it before he caught up, his breath ghosting against her tail as it vanished. Charles stuck his muzzle under the log, snorted as he heard her laugh, and pulled his head back, leaped over the tree—or, at least, tried to.

 His front half made it over, but he caught at his hips, momentum swinging his barrel into the tree hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs with a yelp, and all he could do was whine breathlessly as he watched her vanish, hip a flash of white going further and further away.

  “Damn!” he groaned, and began to scramble with his hindpaws, dull claws scrabbling, gouging and knocking away dead tree bark, only for a sudden nip to his sensitive nose to startle him enough that he let out a high pitched yelping noise that he’d never admit to making.

 The Fox yipped in his face, eyes laughing, and dropped his feather in front of him, still pristine as he kept it, whirled about quick enough to smack him in the face with her bottlebrush black-orange tail, vanishing into the trees without a care even as he called after her “No!” to “Wait!”

 She didn’t, though, and he was well stuck so, though his clothes were stashed at the Scarlett Horse Shop and he’d have to walk several miles naked (shifting was exhausting, if he tried to shift so soon after slipping human he’d sleep for a day and miss his fights, and he couldn’t afford to do so), he began to slip into his human skin, praying that she was long gone.

[askenygma]

Arkham must be shit then. Being all cooped up like that.

Edward basically shutters

EN: Oh you have no idea.

EN: Being trapped in that god forsaken room with a man or a gal who does nothing but ramble or scream non-coherent words day and night?

EN: And they don’t even give me my puzzles anymore because of my “behavior"! My behavior only gets worse when you don’t give me what I need.

EN: You don’t want to hand over the rubix cube? Fine. I’ll break out of my cell steal 3 cubes, a paperclip, and maybe even a taser! Then we’ll see who’s laughing!

EN: Ugh. I hate Arkham with a passion. They never know how to treat their patients. And don’t even get me started on the men like Bolton.

[tackrusso]

my 42 favorite quotes from code bc i’m avoiding homework again

“‘I re-jiggered the settings to ignore trash metal. No more false alarms.’ ‘No more anything. It just beeps.’” (12)

“‘This game is popular?’ Ben was sitting on his tackle box in the shade of a large elm. ‘Sounds pretty nerdtastic to me.’ ‘We can’t all practice birdscalls like you.’” (18)

“‘This watch is low-rent. Plus, I’m getting a new one for my birthday. But you owe me, Stolowitski.’ ‘Owe you what?’ Hi said. ‘Who wears a wristwatch anymore? Cavemen?’” (22)

“‘Coop really doesn’t like that box.’ I knelt and rubbed the edgy wolfdog’s snout. ‘It better not be stuffed with dead squirrels or something.’ … ‘It’s not a rodent coffin!’ Hi huffed. ‘This cache is legit. You’ll see.’” (22-23)

“‘Don’t use up too much drive space,’ I warned, watching the screen from over his shoulder. ‘We bought this stuff to research parvovirus, not so you can watch “Boom Goes the Dynamite” twenty times a day.’” (53)

“Frustrated, Hi rose and wandered to the computer. ‘I’m going to check my email.’ ‘I’m going to kill myself,’ Ben muttered. Shelton ignored them.” (56)

“Soooo many dorks,’ Ben muttered, his coal-black eyebrows forming a steep V. ‘A giant nerd army, digging up plastic boxes they hide for each other.’ ‘Like everything you do is cool,’ Hi snorted. ‘Still have that ninja costume you wore to my twelfth birthday party?’” (62)

“‘Wait.’ Ben glanced from face to face. ‘We’re actually going to pursue this nonsense? We suddenly care what this fruitcake hid in a box somewhere?’” (65)

“‘We’ve got over an hour before dark.’ I yanked my hair into a ponytail. ‘Let’s show Mr. Gamemaster how quickly Virals solve puzzles.’ … ‘We’ve got to work on our decision-making process.’ Shelton was shaking his head. ‘Right now, we just follow Tory over every cliff.’” (74)

“Hi called into the black. ‘Your cache is mine, clown! I’m coming to getcha! Uncle Hiram’s got the scent!’ His words echoed in the darkness as he scrambled through the opening. ‘Zip it!’ Shelton hiss-whispered. ‘This building is struggling to hold your buck-sixty. Don’t yodel the roof down on our heads.’” (82-83)

“‘This is stupid.’ Shelton started toward the doorway. ‘Let’s bounce. We can toss that iPad in the freaking harbor.’” (90)

“‘Watch where you’re going,’ Ben snapped. ‘I am,’ Jason said dryly. ‘I’m going to chat with Tory.’” (100)

“‘Hey, check this weirdo out.’ Hi was inspecting a bust on the mantel. ‘This face is ninety percent eyebrow. What do you wanna bet he owned slaves?’ Scowling to match the carving’s expression, Hi spoke in a gravelly voice. ‘In my day, we ate the poor people. We had a giant outdoor grill, and cooked up peasant steaks every Sunday.’” (106-107)

“‘State your business.’ ‘To see my father.’ A beat. ‘That’s usually going to be my business, FYI.’” (112)

“Hudson’s eyes narrowed. ‘Dodgeball?’ ‘District champs.’ Hi pounded his chest. ‘I’m a gunner. The key is to reach the balls first, and then throw with a little touch of spin, so that—’” (113)

“Jason had attended debutante balls. Knew the drill. My crew would have to conduct research on YouTube. Jason was popular on the cotillion scene. My guys weren’t even on the radar. Asking Jason would get Whitney off my back. Inviting only Morris Island boys might plummet her into a depression.” (132)

“I wore a white tank and jeans, shooting for ‘sexy-casual.’ Hoping it wasn’t ‘left farmhouse, got lost.’” (170)

“‘It has to mean something!’ Hi slapped a knee in frustration. Shelton glanced up from his iPhone, but when Hi didn’t elaborate he resumed surfing. … ‘Care to elaborate?’ I was sitting between Hi and Shelton in the stern. ‘Or was that a yoga move I don’t know?’” (233)

“Hi looked at me strangely. ‘We’re a little busy Friday night.’ ‘Busy? Doing what?’ The boys exchanged a look. Hi snorted. ‘I don’t know about you,’ Shelton said, ‘but I’m escorting my friend Victoria to her debutante ball.’” (235)

“‘Your advice, remember? No fear?’ Instantly regretted. I didn’t want Chance thinking about last summer. ‘Oh, I recall.’ Chance smiled thinly. ‘I haven’t crashed on your floor so many times that I’d forget.’” (240)

“‘I found something interesting,’ Marchant continued. ‘Are you free to meet? I’m headed out for a caffeine fix in thirty minutes.’ Um, what? Did this guy not understand I was fourteen? Bolton wasn’t big on students popping out for midday lattes.” (245)

“‘Ben, stop the boat.’ He looked at me funny. ‘We’re in the middle of the ocean, Victoria.’ ‘Stop the damn boat!’ Ben rolled eyes, but eased off the throttle. Sewee decelerated until we just bobbed along with the current. ‘Did you want to jump in?’ Ben asked dryly. ‘Water’s pretty cold in October.’” (251-252)

“‘Okay, people.’ Ben crossed his arms. ‘Care to share?’ ‘No big deal.’ Shelton’s tone was nonchalant. ‘Just a quick stop at Mepkin Abbey to get a new headshot of Mr. Dead Guy.’” (260)

“‘Options?’ Ben asked as he pulled out onto the highway. ‘I think some charitable work might be in order,’ Hi said. ‘I’m not a Jesus man, but I’m pretty sure getting ripped a new one by a monk is bad karma in any religion.’” (264)

“‘Oh man, she really did it this time!’ ‘Should we call the nurse?’ Panicky. ‘An ambulance?’ ‘And say what, exactly?’ hissed a third. ‘That our friend passed out after some bad telepathy?’” (271)

“‘She’s coming around!’ The roundest shape coalesced into Hi. ‘Tor? You okay? If you’ve gone vegetable, blink at me.’” (271)

“My splitting headache had proved the experiment had been dangerous. Had I learned my lesson? Probably not.” (273)

“Hi, naturally, had opted for flair. His tux was crushed purple velvet with tails, accented by all white silk—tie, vest, gloves, and suspenders. He completed the outfit with a freaking top hat and cane. Whitney had nearly fainted on seeing him.” (279)

“‘Those who enlist complete a rigorous program combining academics, physical fitness, and military discipline.’ … ‘So—book learning, push-ups, and war games.’ Hi ticked off fingers as he spoke. ‘Check, check, and check. Plus gray is my sexy color.’” (279)

“‘Paging Miss Brennan.’ Chance waved a hand before my eyes. ‘You okay?’ No. ‘Yes. I’m just…surprised I’ll be first.’ ‘I’m sure you’ll dazzle. Until then.’” (286)

“‘Gamemaster?’ Jason looked confused. ‘Search the basement? What are you talking about?’ ‘Oh, we’re, um, playing a pretty fierce game of Dungeons and Dragons,’ Hi stammered. ‘I’m, like, the head…unicorn master, and Tory has to find my magic…beans. Seeds.’” (299)

“‘Always trapped!’ Shelton actually stamped a foot. ‘Always underground! If we get out of here, I’m moving to a high-rise on a mountain-top. Penthouse! And y’all ain’t invited!’” (304)

“‘I assume there’s no antique cash register in need of special oil?’ Jason said. No one bothered to answer.” (331)

“He launched into an improvised tale of woe and misfortune. We’d found ourselves in the dark. Flustered and disoriented, we’d blundered through an emergency exit. Then we’d tumbled down a staircase in a complicated domino sequence that incorporated each one of us. The story was bizarre, confusing, and wildly improbable. They’d bought it without hesitation.” (333)

“‘Yet you four ripped the grate from its tracks. Then you ripped the tracks from the wall, bending the metal bars like they were drinking straws. How? How is that possible?’ ‘I read once where this guy in Ulan Bator powerlifted a Chinese tank after—’ ‘Can it, Stolowitski. Let Tory explain.’” (335)

“‘You look ready to chew nails.’ Shelton grinned at me from his own stoop. ‘There’s a certain murderer I’d like to chat with.’” (340)

“‘You okay, Tor?’ Shelton had a sandbag on one shoulder, hauled up from the beach. ‘We don’t have time for an ER run.’ ‘We could amputate,’ Hi suggested. ‘Shelton, get the whiskey.’” (342)

“‘I called Marchant’s office and left a message. Less than a minute later, my cell rang and March—’ I gritted my teeth, ‘—the Gamemaster asked me to meet him at City Lights Coffee. So I did.’ ‘So dumb,’ Hi muttered. ‘And it really was a murderer.’” (350)

“‘And you know this how?’ … ‘I dreamed it.’ ‘Aha! You dreamed it.’ Hi yawned and rubbed his eyes. ‘I think it’s time we get you medicated.’” (352)

“I turned on Ben and Hi. ‘What about you two? Ready to bail? There’s a deranged psycho out there who knows what your mothers eat for breakfast. That cool with you?’” (353)

“‘Any plan for that bit?’ Shelton asked dully. ‘You keep glossing over how we’re actually gonna make the citizen’s arrest.’ ‘Of course.’ I chucked his shoulder. ‘We’ll improvise.’ ‘Great. Well thought out.’” (362)

“‘You’re a hot, steaming ball of crazy,’ Hi said. ‘You know that, right? Freaking Looney Tunes.’” (373)