#beau hutchings

[dance-world]

Jakob Karr  with Adam Perry, Beau Hutchings, Ryan Worsing, and Sam Hay

[kashmiresims]

Engaged Couples of Kashmire: Calvin Miller & Randi Hutch

Calvin is a sweet, somewhat sheltered sort of boy that grew up on a farm, and had his world broken open when he attended community college. Not that community college is a hog wild time but with Randi Hutch living on the campus, she proved to be a major distraction. Not just her, but her whole family.

Randi is a lascivious sort, proven by at least five active beaus. Calvin is allowed to feel smug that he was the one to put a ring on it but will that stop Randi’s lustful nature? It’s like feeling smug for taking care of a stray cat that’s only using you for temporary food and shelter. 

What can be said is that Randi is very fond of Calvin and his attentions toward her but how will she deal with it when she has their child, and he starts running the farm? His attention can’t be on her 24/7. Randi is someone who will find attention elsewhere if she doesn’t feel satisfied, and I don’t believe Calvin has the slightest idea of how hard he is going to have to work on his relationship to keep it from imploding.

[reportwire]

RHOBH's Lisa Rinna Reveals What Was Cut From Her Confrontation With Kathy Hilton, Claims Kathy "Lied"

RHOBH’s Lisa Rinna Reveals What Was Cut From Her Confrontation With Kathy Hilton, Claims Kathy “Lied”

Credit: Xavier Collin/Image Press Agency/MEGA, Shutterstock/KathyHutchins Lisa Rinna isn’t done talking about her drama with Kathy Hilton. Months after coming forward with claims that Kathy had a shocking and threatening meltdown against sister Kyle Richards in Aspen on The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, Lisa took to the comments section of Beau Hutchings‘ reenactment of the moment in which…

[dbssh]

🖊

hutch grew up the second oldest of five kids, and the only daughter. their relationship with their parents and siblings was... strained to say the least, but they loved their mama and their brothers to death.

both their parents died for various reasons (their mama of illness and their human dad of old age), and at this point them and their older brother are the only two kids that are still alive.

[cowboyjen68]

Rotten Apples & Frontier Justice

 Rotten Apples and Frontier Justice

By CowboyJen

My best friend Kendra had a small overbite that she grew into but there were a few boys who liked to tease her about it. One very hot summer day we were riding our horses in the old apple orchard down in what was soon to become a rural suburban development dubbed Woodland Estates. The two brick walls with cement lions on them already graced the entryway of our riding trail. 

I was around 11 and she was 10. A few of the boys were riding their bikes up and down the paved road which had been a dirt path a few weeks prior and the novelty of having blacktop was too much to resist. They basically rode up and down back and forth and the speed bumps were great to “get air”.

We ignored them, they ignored us, the way it was meant to be. One boy, and we will never know why, and perhaps he didn’t know either, suddenly  felt pretty brave and breached the unspoken boy/girl wall.  Maybe having his friends nearby to back him up or maybe to prove he was “a man” or If you believed my mom, it was “his way of showing us he had a crush”. No matter his reasons. He waited until we had dismounted to feed green apples to the horses Beau and Gypsy and veered off the smooth black top.  He stood on his pedals to gain speed as he approached and  he was bent forward over that K Mart bike’s handlebars as he got closer and closer. We saw him coming and sort of just watched the on coming flurry of feathered hair and Starsky and Hutch T shirt. 

This boy, thinking to spook the horses and cause us trouble passed us as close as he could and yelled “Bucky the Buck toothed Beaver!” 

Kendra was unphased and so were our seasoned mounts. She took the apple that was meant for Gypsy and hit the boy right in the back of the head from about a 12 foot range. The rotten part splatted in his dirty blonde hair but the solid part made an audible “thud” as it connected to his thick skull. He screamed in pain “shit.. ouch!” and slid his bike sideways in the grass, staining his Sears Husky jeans no doubt.  He paused a second on the ground, probably debating if pretending to be really hurt might save him or hoping  his friends were on the way.  No luck either way so he stood  up, picked up his bike and faced us with green grass stains and what was likely sweat, apple juice and tears on his face. 

Before he could turn to mount his bike I took my shot. Wham, right in the knee, not as accurate as Kendra but it got his attention. The look in his face was that of a man who suddenly realized he had severely underestimated the enemies he decided to create. Kendra already had two apples in hand and I reloaded while she fired off another shot. One missed, hitting his bike as it dropped to the ground. The other caused him to holler out “stop!” when it hit him in the stomach. 

Two tween girls, who both had their own baseball gloves and killed long summer days throwing rocks at trees and golf balls at tin cans are formidable foes. Poor kid realized the error of his ways too late. There was no time for him to formulate a plan. The onslaught of rotten green apples put him squarely in survival mode and he ran to the nearest dwarf apple tree. He hid behind it and tried bargaining. “Stop it you guys!”  One, two, three apples whizzed by him and one hit the tree causing a satisfying splatter pattern. “Come on guys.. stop!”.  A few more hits and we began to flank him. Our horses calmly grazed the shaded grass and we loaded our arms and moved to flush him from his barrier. 

In a moment of what I am sure he thought was brilliance, he grabbed a low branch and swung up, taking a hit to the seat of his pants and one to the back. A hard, well aimed hit in the soft part of the small of his back. I heard it and Kendra said “ooo  nailed him”.

Like a squirrel in Traxx Tennis shoes he moved around the tree and climbed up to a more covered branch forcing us to back away to see him better. Kendra seemed satisfied that he was out of range and I followed her lead to walk backwards to the horses. She started to pile up apples and he yelled down “Knock it off you Ass holes, i need to go home”.   We bit into and chewed the bitter green apples while sitting on the ground next to our ammunition pile. The other boys had dropped their bikes by the Lion topped brick walls and were sitting on it, watching. The trapped boy noticed them and pleaded “Guys.. come help”.  They only responded with “they are just girls” but none of them jumped down to aid him. 

It was getting to be suppertime and he decided we had grown tired of watching him. He slowly descended but as he hit the last branch before the ground we pelted him with the squishiest apples we could pick up. The splatter was satisfying but watching him scramble back to his perch was even more so.

We ate snacks from our saddle bags and waited. He tried a few times to make an escape.  Once even jumping to the ground and trying to make a run for it. He was not fast enough nor tolerant of pain enough to get more than one step before  swiveling and scratching his way back to his previous perch.  The funniest attempt was when he tried something he had seen in the movies. “I will come down with my hands up” and as much as we wanted to see that Kendra and I bombarded the tree trunk.  Every time he would try the pain of the projectile apples kept him in his place.  

In the final stages before the street lamp came on (we had one now) he begged “I’m supposed to be home now. Mom is going to be really mad”.  We sympathized slightly, knowing the mom wrath of those kids late for supper or not home right after the darkness triggered the light to come on. But I guess he shouldn’t have hurled that insult. . 

The other boys had left, we were bored and. in desperation, and wishing he would not have hogged so much Kool Aid he yelled. “I gotta pee really bad guys.. come ON!”.  He had two choices, unzip and pee from the tree, which would expose him just enough that we would have future ammo about “what we saw” or well, not unzip. His body made the decision for him. Enough was enough and we rode past him with a final  apple lobbed over his head. We never spoke of that again. Not to him, not to each other, no one. He had done his time. Frontier justice had been served. Lesson learned. 

Lessons: Don’t be a bully. If you drink too much Kool Aid and decide to take on two tween girls, it  is  best to have an exit strategy. Girls can’t always throw as hard as boys their age but their accuracy can be scary good. Girls have more stamina and patience in a stand off than you want to test. Straight girls can and will take it to the next level. 

[sporcafaccenda]

44 MAGNUM

Créé par Donald P. Bellisario et Glen A. Larson en 1980, le personnage du feuilleton télévisé Magnum P.I. - transmis en Italie de mars 1983 à septembre 1990 - rencontra un énorme succès tout au long des huit saisons diffusées. Après avoir déjà publiées ses versions hard de Kojak et de Starsky & Hutch, Barbieri ne pouvait pas s'empêcher de créer aussi une imitation de cette série TV. Ainsi naquit 44 MAGNUM, une nouvelle série de bande dessinée qui, en plus de reprendre le processus narratif du feuilleton, dote clairement son protagoniste des traits de l'interprète principal, l'acteur Tom Selleck.

44 Magnum, ce sont les aventures de Jody John Baldwin, alias "Quarantequattro", ex-agent de la CIA devenu enquêteur privé, siégeant à Miami, Floride. Reprenant le style et la philosophie "existentielle" (si j'ose dire) de son alter-ego télévisuel, notre ami 44 conduit une sportive de grosse cylindrée (une Porsche 928s remplace la Ferrari Testarossa des films) et vit dans un luxueux cottage qui donne sur une plage enchanteresse. Sont de la partie, son garde du corps et factotum, Puertorico, un sud-américain très habile avec les armes blanches, qui le suit comme son ombre sans perdre l'occasion de l'espionner à chacune de ses nombreuses rencontres galantes, ainsi que sa secrétaire Luna, nymphomane et ex-prostituée, avec laquelle le beau détective moustachu mène une relation très "ouverte"…

Ecrit par Renzo Barbieri et dessiné par Germano Bonazzi. Couvertures d'Emanuele Taglietti.

10 numéros + un "supplemento" sont parus entre janvier et octobre 1984.

Traduit en français par Georges Bielec et publié dans sa série "Télé-Pirate" (EF)

Editeur: Edifumetto Via F. Redi 22 - Milano Directeur de la Publication: Renzo Barbieri

#44Magnum #Renzo Barbieri #Magnum

#illustration #Germano Bonazzi #fumetti

#comics #Emanuele Taglietti

[beast-of-shattered-hopes]

I’ll see if I can bother Arthur into letting me take Beau from his hutch.

Little brother. Would you like to talk now?

-@beast-of-shattered-hopes

No.

nuh uh. No talking.

[ofmymuses]

꒰♡꒱ —  PET NAMES MASTERLIST .

under the cut, you’ll find a total of 578 name ideas for furry friends sorted in alphabetical order!!   if you find this post useful, please consider giving it a like / reblog so i know ♡♡

abby, ace, angel, annie, allie, angus, apollo, aries, athena, autumn, avery, alvin, amour, aspen, archie, artie, ava, alice, alpha, aslan, almond, alfie, axel, appricot

baby, bailey, basil, bella, bean, bandit, betty, birdie, betsy, bear, beau, bonnie, blossom, biscuit, blue, bo, boomer, brownie, bingo, bambi, bacon, billie, bubbles, bitsy, boots, bb, buddy, buster, bowser, barbie

candy, callie, chanel, chloe, cinnamon, cleo, coco, cricket, captain, cash, champ, chunky, chancey, charlie, chester, chico, chief, cooper, chipper, cookie, campbell, clove/r, coffee, coconut

daisy, dakota, delia, diamond, dixie, dolly, duchess, dane, dexter, diego, diesel, dodge/r, duke, dexter, darcey, dawn, dainty, dora, dizzy, decker, dallas, dagwood, dew, drusilla

eden, ella, ellie, emmy, eddie, elmer, eli, emmett, echo, elvis, eva, enid, eiffel, easter, elfa, edsel, evita, elzie

fiona, foxy, fern, fanny, finn, flash, frankie, fritz, fairy, fang, fancy, ferris, fey, flo, fluffy, fly, fudge, fuzzball, finch, foster, figo, fidget, frodo, flick, frieza

gaia, gumball, gumdrop, goldie, griffin, gus, georgie, gordon, garfield, glitter, gollum, goose, grover, gremlin, gem, gidget, goober, grumpy, gulliver

ham, harry, hope, hickory, harley, henry, hazel, holly, happy, hunter, hopscotch, hershey, harvey, honey, honeybee, hilda, hutch, hyde, hugo, hiccup, hawthorne, hades

icy, indie, itchy, isla, itsy bitsy, izzy, ivory, indigo, iggy, izzy, ike, ima, inigo, ira, isabella, iman

jabba, jade, jax, jj, jiffy, joey, july, juniper, june, juno, jackson, jagger, jasmine, jedi, jellybean, jack jack, jubilee, jonesy, jimbo, jock, jenkins, jinkies, jazz, janie, jaws, jennie, jiggly puff, jiggles, jodie

king, kai, kaijo, kermit, karma, krabby, kraken, kylo, koko, kali, kash, kane, kenny, kiddo, kimmy, kip, kisses, kit kat, kitty, kiwi, klaus, kleo, koda, kona, kylie, kooper, kimbo

luna, lola, lily, lady, lucky, lovey, loki, linus, lilo, lightning, leapfrog, lemon, lemondrop, lacy, luigi, lavender, lilac, leia, levi, lenny, lewis, libby, little, link, little foot, leftie, lulu, lurk, lydia, lynx, lars, lovebug

m&m, mabel, macaroni, macy, mae, midge, milo, midnight, marshmallow, maisie, mischief, mocha, monster, monty, munchkin, muppet, magenta, magoo, magic, maggie, malibu, maxwell, maximus, max, meeko, melody, mellow, mickey, millie, mimi, minnie, mint, missy, moon, moxie, muffy, muffin, mystic

nana, nanette, nanny, nani, newbury, natwick, nico, noah, nixon, nymph, nyx, nacho, nacia, nibbles, niche, noisy, nessie, nugget, napoleon, nanook, nutella, nellie, neon, neptune, nightmare

oatmeal, ozzy, octavia, october, oddball, olive, oreo, oscar, odie, olaf, oasis, oceana, o’hara, oakley, odessa, odin, ollie, olympia, omega, onyx, otis

panda, pumpkin, pops, popcorn, patches, prince, princess, precious, pepper, paige, pongo, poppy, penny, prudence, polly, priscilla, prancer, paris, pooh, peanut, potato, piggy, peppermint, pancake

ralph, ribbit, riley, rio, raphael, rebel, rex, roo, river, rocket, rosie, ruby, rey, ranger, raven, razzle, red, reese, retro, rhino, rigsby, ringo, rizzo, rocky, rogue, rolo, romeo, ross, roxie, ruckus

spencer, spyro, sadie, sage, sabrina, sugar, scout, sass, sky, sunny, sally, storm, stevie, sammie, scarlet, snickers, sweetie, snow/y, snoop/y, suzy, sookie, sapphire, sushi, sedona, skittles, sparkle/s, sweetpea, skipper, spot, sterling, sox, scar, scottie, scooby, sprocket

tinkerbell, tank, tango, tigger, teddy, taz, turner, toto, tess, topaz, tulip, tomika, tycoon, toki, trinket, tootsie, tarzan, trouble, twiggy, tetra, tia, thunder, thor, thumper, titan, toby, twinkle, twizzler

ursula, unit, urian, ulana, unix, utopia, urmina, unique, ultra, ufo

vesper, velvet, vanilla, valentine, vito, victory, voodoo, vallisa, vallie, valino, vanessa, vandooh, van goh, vega, vee, varro

wolfe, wolfie, wagner, whiskers, wendy, willie, worm, winnie, waldo, woody, warlock, wildfire

x-tray, xandor, xampus, xandrana, xandy, xanta, xara, xena, xera, xisco, xylo

yzma, yoda, yaki, yahoo, yogi, yeti, yenga, yumi, yello, yamana, yeska

zeus, zombie, zara, zoe/y, ziggy, zeke, zelda, zero, zola, zane, zorro, zia, zazu, zip/per, zella, zsa zsa, zadie, zoro, zorra, zephyr

[georgiapeach30513]

take my everything, ma’am 💳💵🏦 but please i need more poppers drabbles with everyone 😭 she’s stinking cute i can’t move 😭

Is she not the sweetest babe?? Ugh, I love her. She's so much like her mama Iris, but instead of gymnastics (which she can actually do) her thing is bunnies. Her loves her bunnies so much, and she has a bit of a crush on her now brother-in-law, Jackie 🥺

She is another one that easily gets overwhelmed with the Drysdale's. She doesn't like being with everyone, unless she's in her daddy's lap. She'll run off and play with some of her cousins, or go to her Biscoff's bunny hutch, and Papa got Uncle Beau to build her one for outside for the little bunnies. Poppy keeps telling Papa that Biscoff needs a giant friend......

But that's why we don't see her with the big group. She's off somewhere else, but lets get her, and James against Ransom 😂😂

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Bagels and Barley

Summary:  Poppy wants more bunnies

Pairings:  James/Poppy X Ransom

Rating:  🐰🐰

Warnings: Poppy’s cutness, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  500

Desperate Lives AU Masterlist

Papa & Mimi's Grandbabies Masterlist

James peeks around the corner at his Poppers, as she ties a ribbon around her newest little bunny’s ears.  He gives her a quick smile, remembering the Easter pictures that changed their home forever.  Bunnies was Poppy’s spirit animals, her babies.  “Daddy quit staring.  You’re gonna make Bagel feel funny.”

With a playful roll of his eyes, he sits down beside Poppy and Bagel bunny.  Biscoff playing in his hutch all alone while Biscuit, Bailey, and EB hop around together.  “Biscoff is lonely.”

“That’s what I’ve tried to tell you.  Nobody listens to me.  Look at him.  He doesn’t play well with the little bunnies, so they have to be separate,” she takes a deep breath, sighing dramatically.  Not often does the Drysdale come out in her.  It does when she wants something extra for her bunnies.  “I just don’t know daddy.”

James leans over on her, and lets Bagel sniff around his finger a bit.  “Don’t forget all your bunnies, and we can go butter up, Papa.”

________________________________________________________________

“But you have a giant bunny,” Ransom answers, looking for at James rather than Poppy.  Her Iris looking eyes get to him.

“But you love Biscoff.”

“But he’s not my bunny.  Who takes him on walks,” Poppy whispers out a you.  “Who makes sure he’s fed when you’re not here?  Or made sure that he has an indoor hutch for the winter, even had a room built onto the estate just for Biscoff?  Taught him how to use a liter box?”

“Papa?” Ransom finally looks at Poppy who gives a little giggle to him, “I didn’t ask you to build him a room.”

“Where else was he going to go?  Do you really think I wanted that giant thing outside all alone in the snow?”

“But he’s alone now.  He’s kind of a bully to my baby bunnies.  And you let him be all alone,” her green blue eyes pout up at him, and he’s reminded of Iris whenever she tried to play him to get her way.

“You stop that,” Ransom mocks a bit of an irritated voice at her, and even James has to look away, trying not to show her he’s laughing.  “You want to use your sweet face, and sweet voice, and try to make me feel guilty so I let you get another giant rabbit.”

“Ransom?” those dark blue eyes narrow looking over at James.  “Biscoff has a bed in your office.  You fenced in the backyard to where he can wander around freely, and not get out.  Are you sure this isn’t about Biscoff spending less time with you if he has a friend.”

“No.”

“I’ll come by everyday and spend time with you and the giant bunnies.”

Ransom sighs, “James take Poppy to go get another giant bunny,” her little hands clap as she listens, but then she pouts.  “What?  I’m letting you get a giant bunny.”

“I wanted you to pick him out with me.”

“James, I’m taking Poppy to get her a giant bunny.  Bring Biscoff in and make sure he gets some fruit salad, and do not judge me,” and that is how Poppy got her second giant rabbit, Barley bunny.

Ransom was glad to see that Barley was easy to train, and he actually liked Ransom more than Biscoff.  He got his own special harness for walks, and he loves cuddling up to Sprinkles.  Biscoff opting to be with Latte or Mocha.  

Masterlist

[thepropertylovers]

As We Head Into the Weekend

I woke up this morning still feeling pretty under the weather. I haven’t mentioned on here yet, but ever since school started, there’s at least one of us consistently sick in the house.

Mine has lasted almost a week now. I remember the exact same thing happened last year when the boys started school, though last year it was covid which was much, much worse. Luckily, our tests came back negative when we took them a few days ago.

Nothing like a little back to school sickness to get the ball rolling on a new season!

In the last few days, we’ve gotten the itch to switch things up in our home a little. We’ve been here for five years, and while we change rooms around and do things here and there all the time, we’ve never changed the art above our fireplace. We’ve always loved it, but when we spotted this piece of art at Habitat for Humanity for a great price, we knew we had to have it (just didn’t know where it would live yet).

Turns out it fits perfectly above the fireplace! We decorated for fall this month, because it’s never too early (don’t say a word) in our house, and we feel like the new piece just feels more fall-ish and cozy right now. No word if it’ll stay year-round or just be seasonal, but so far we’re loving it.

Also, I brought an old dresser that used to live in our room up to the kids’ bathroom yesterday and quickly hung a gallery wall over it. We really need a large, tall hutch in there to fill that enormous wall, but for now I like the feel of the art and dresser and lamp together. And of course, it’s really just for me anyway, as the kids could care less about what any room in the house looks like.

Meanwhile, Matt and Beau are heading back to New Orleans this weekend and we’re both feeling really sad about it. Yesterday at their house, PJ started to make plans with them to hang out this weekend and then suddenly realized they won’t be here for said plans. The reality of them not being in Tennessee is sinking in and to be honest, it’s a sinking feeling.

We’ve lived here our entire lives with no real sense of community, no sense of exact sameness with anyone because there aren’t many gay people in our town, and especially none that we connect with as well as Matt and Beau (same profession, same interests, etc.).

They’re our best friends and watching our friendship start little by little and then grow over the last five years has been such a fun, wonderful, interesting adventure. We’ve all come a long way, both professionally and personally, and I feel like we’ve finally found our little friend group to do life and experience milestones and new, fun, exciting things with.

And of course, the not so exciting and fun things, too, because isn’t that what friends are all about? Being there with you through the good and the bad, the ugly and the polished? The times you never want to forget and the times you wish you could?

And of course there will be bumps along the way in any type of relationship; things you wish you could take back or hurtful words you wish you never said. But I believe true friendship can withstand anything and forgiveness (and the willingness to forgive) goes a long way when it comes to the longevity of a relationship.

We’re so grateful for their friendship and the community they give us and, hopefully, the sense of community we give them. We’re getting together tonight for one last dinner before they pack up and head back home for a few weeks. By the time they get back, hopefully the air will be cooler and fall will start to tiptoe into Tennessee to welcome them back to the mountains.

Have a lovely weekend, friends!

[ocw-archive]

'STARSKY' PREMIERE GETS PEOPLE TALKING ABOUT OWEN WILSON'S 'SINGING' (2004)

LOS ANGELES — So how does Owen Wilson's take on "Don't Give Up on Us Baby," a hit for original "Hutch" David Soul, compare to the '70s original?

"There's no comparison," his "Starsky & Hutch" co-star Ben Stiller reported at the movie's premiere Thursday, "because Owen Wilson, first of all, just to get his voice even close to on key, they had to put him through one of those computers and he broke two of them."

"David Soul has a great voice, and I have a terrible voice," Owen admitted. "I mean, you can't even call it a 'terrible voice,' because it's just incredibly tuneless."

"And then, of course, when he sings the song, there's almost a soullessness in his eyes," Stiller added, speaking specifically of the scene in the movie where Wilson picks up a guitar and belts out the sappy tune. "It's almost as if 'The Manchurian Candidate' was singing to you. He's just not really a very charismatic singer and he doesn't really sing in tune, either, so the whole thing is sort of a disaster."

Nevertheless, the tune will find its way onto the soundtrack for the movie, a comedy take on the classic 1970s cop show, written and directed by "Old School" mastermind Todd Phillips (see "Big Collars And Even Bigger Pimpin' On The Set Of 'Starsky & Hutch'").

"I almost got more excited about [being on the soundtrack] than my salary," Wilson joked. "I was like, 'I'm gonna get residuals? Whoa, how much can I get?!' That's the thing I've latched onto the most."

Snoop Dogg, who provided one of his own cars to the filmmakers in order to bring that "extra flavor" to street informant Huggy Bear (see "Snoop Plans To Outdo Michael Jackson's 'Thriller' Video"), isn't sweating having competition with the film's music. "It's sharp, it's slick, you know what I'm saying? I can dig that," he said of the track. "There ain't no limit to what he can do. Owen is the man. I've liked him in everything he's done."

"Snoop was great to work with," Wilson reciprocated. "I became good friends with Snoop and especially good friends with his spiritual advisor, Don 'Magic' Juan. In fact, he gave me a big gold diamond chalice for champagne that has my name in diamonds or rhinestones on the side."

Another person at the premiere in a unique position to judge Wilson's musical abilities (or apparent lack thereof) was Carmen Electra, who has a small part in the movie. After all, she is married to a rock star. "Owen Wilson was so adorable, he worked so hard on that song," she said. "Just to watch him actually sing it, and he played guitar, sort of, it was sweet. It was cute."

"I plan to burn CDs of it and put it out on my own label," joked her beau, Dave Navarro. "It's phenomenal."

Wilson admitted he was nervous to have the original Hutch hear his take on "Don't Give Up on Us Baby," or for that matter, see him reprising the role he loved as a kid on television.

"It's like him playing Abraham Lincoln or something," joked his brother, Luke. "It's pretty cool. [David Soul]'s definitely a guy we grew up watching. It's pretty funny to see Owen playing Hutch."

Stiller was visibly nervous standing next to both of the show's original actors, who he had just learned hadn't yet seen the movie. "I was wondering why they were so friendly when I first saw them," he laughed as he made his way down a red carpet that also welcomed Vince Vaughn, Juliette Lewis, Jon Favreau and Rachel Bilson of "The O.C."

"The humor in the movie comes out in Owen and I attempting to be as cool as they originally were in the show," Stiller pointed out. "Hopefully they'll see that and understand that we couldn't be who they are, because they just have a natural thing. And we did our natural thing."

"Starsky & Hutch" hits theaters March 5.

[dragonheadskilax]

YT link, and lyrics:

She's my most intimate friend. And naturally, I shan't say a word. It doesn't make a bit difference to me what the papers have printed and what anyone's heard. I like her. Of course I don't entirely approve of her killing her husband, but never-the-less, he was the logical person for her to kill. And she did do it nicely, we all must confess. She's never been mentally sound, you know. As a child she had a murderous trend. I was with her when she- when her brother fell in the well. Of course, I'd never admit it, she's my most intimate friend. Her mother was that sexy Amy Tittlemouse. You remember we all found her rather queer; And her father is a manic depressive. Why, haven't you heard? He's been in San Quentin for over a year. So she comes by it naturally. She's such a pretty girl too. I thought it was disgusting of that physician to feel compelled to tell every one in the court about her incurable poisonous ivy condition. She had so many beaus; I think he did it for an ad A wretched trick to further his own end; he got every man in town for a patient Of course, I knew it was true, she's my most intimate friend. And after all I did try to defend her. I said she was drunk when she shot him. Why, she'd been drinking like crazy for days, she was blind. It's miraculous really that she got him. And dope. Lord, she has stuck herself with that needle. So many holes front and back, if she had any inner radiance she'd be a living tower of jewels. It's a shame for the tourists that her soul is so black. I like her. There isn't anybody in the world that could get me to say one thing about her. She's what she is and, of course, she'll never mend. She's an intro-ultra-extravert, but so what? She's my most intimate friend. I know she's diseased. I know she's insane. I know she can only be appeased with a lash and champagne. I know Wellesley fired her for her actions with the girls; and I know what inspired her to poison her mother- she wanted the pearls. I know all about the battalion that she left too weak to walk; and I know about the stallion but that was only talk. I know they call her house "the hutch" and compare her to the rabbit; and I know exactly just how much black magic she does on the sabbath. In fact, I know a lot of things I could tell if I would, but a gossip I never will end. Wild horses couldn’t drag one word from my mouth. After all, she's my most intimate friend.

[sizhuibattleguqin]

❝ explaining is an admission of failure ❞⠀»⠀A-Ling ♡ @indulgentia

The small fluffy bunny looked at the bunny hutch or what was supposed to be a bunny hutch and than looked back at Jin Ling. The werewolf had worked so hard to make this perfect, and he bounced forward to sniff at it. Than looked back at the Silver Fang violet eyes were the only sign that he was anything but an actual bunny. He was rarely picky and even rarer did he turn down a gift from his beau. He loved this were-wolf and a little huff escaped him. He hadn't exactly made it right and waiting for an explanation was met with a not telling him what it was.

How did he explain he did not want to sleep in a hutch to Jin Ling. He wanted the bed. With the plush fluffy pillow, the heavy but softly divine blankets. The warm body that was scented nicely. The safety of having a predator to protect him. He huffed again and bounced away from it uninterested. He peeked back over his shoulder with a little wiggle.

He bounced off of the hutch and into the frame of Ling in mid bounce he shifted until he was a man. "So explaining how I do this is an admission of failure, and never have to ?" he asked in the musical tones of the fey. Purple eyes twinkled merrily and looked up at the werewolf. "So I will explain it to you." he said his tone ever cheerful dark hair falling over the other man as he sat sprawled across his lap like he might as a bunny.

Elegant fingers pointed to the Hutch. "This is not a bed." an elegant swish of his index finger pointing to the expensive bed with all it glorious pillows and blankets. "That, is a bed..."  he turned large purple eyes on Jin Ling and the boy wiggled much like the bunny. "Your not going to exile me to this thing are you ?"

[hallmark-movie-fanatics]

New in October - Hallmark Movies Now

October

HMN Exclusive: Good Witch Halloween (2015)

Starring Catherine Bell, Bailee Madison, James Denton, Catherine Disher, Peter MacNeil, Kylee Evans, Sarah Powers, Rhys Matthew Bond, Dan Jeannotte, and Jocelyn Hudon

Hallmark Channel

HMN Exclusive: Good Witch: Secrets of Grey House (2016)

Starring Catherine Bell, Bailee Madison, James Denton, Catherine Disher, Sarah Power, Kylee Evans, Peter MacNeil, Rhys Matthew Bond, Teryl Rothery, and Christopher Russell

Hallmark Channel / Fall Harvest

HMN Exclusive: Good Witch Spellbound (2017)

Starring Catherine Bell, Bailee Madison, James Denton, Catherine Disher, Sarah Power, Kylee Evans, Peter MacNeil, Rhys Matthew Bond, Jake Epstein, and Brittany Bristow

Hallmark Channel / Fall Harvest

HMN Exclusive: Good Witch: Tale of Two Hearts (2018)

Starring Catherine Bell, Bailee Madison, James Denton, Catherine Disher, Sarah Power, Kylee Evans, Peter MacNeil, Rhys Matthew Bond, and Steve Byers

Hallmark Channel / Fall Harvest

HMN Exclusive: Good Witch: Curse From a Rose (2019)

Starring Catherine Bell, James Denton, Catherine Disher, Sarah Power, Kylee Evans, Peter MacNeil, Rhys Matthew Bond, Marc Bendavid, Scott Cavalheiro, and Lolita Davidovich

Hallmark Channel / Fall Harvest

HMN Exclusive: Chesapeake Shores Season 5 (2021) New episodes every Thursday.

Starring Meghan Try, Barbara Niven, Treat Williams, Laci J Mailey, Emilie Ullerup, Brendan Penny, Andrew Francis, Diane Ladd, Jessica Sipos, Carlo Marks, Gregory Harrison, Stephen Huszar, Robert Buckley, Matthew Kevin Anderson, Greyston Holt, and Jesse Metcalfe

Hallmark Channel

Harvest Moon (2015)

Starring Jessy Schram, Jesse Hutch, and Willie Anderson

Hallmark Channel / Fall Harvest

October Kiss (2015)

Starring Ashley Williams, Sam Jaegar, Laura Mitchell, and Miranda Frigon

Hallmark Channel / Fall Harvest

HMN Exclusive: Flower Shop Mystery: Snipped In The Bud (2016)

Starring Brooke Shields, Brennan Elliott, Kate Drummond, and Beau Bridges

Hallmark Movies & Mysteries / #2 movie in series

HMN Exclusive: Flower Shop Mystery: Dearly Depotted (2016)

Starring Brooke Shields, Brennan Elliott, Beau Bridges, Kate Drummond, and chad Connell

Hallmark Movies & Mysteries / #3 movie in the series

Love on the Sidelines (2016)

Starring Emily Kinney and John Reardon

Hallmark Channel / Winterfest

HMN Exclusive: Emma Fielding Mysteries: More Bitter Than Death (2019)

Starring Courtney Thorne-Smith, James Tupper, Mark Valley, and Geoff Gustafson

Hallmark Movies & Mysteries / #3 movie in the series

What I Did For Love (2006)

Starring Jeremy London and Dorie Barton

Hallmark Channel

HMN Exclusive: Karen Kingsbury's A Time To Dance (2016)

Starring Jennie Garth , Dan Payne, and Corbin Bernsen

Hallmark Movies & Mysteries

Falling For Vermont (2017)

Starring Julie Gonzalo, Benjamin Ayres, and Peter Benson

Hallmark Channel / Fall Harvest

Love Unleashed (2019)

Starring Jen Lilley, Christopher Russell, and Donna Benedicto

Hallmark Channel

Frozen in Love (2018)

Starring Rachael Leigh Cook, Niall Matter, Tammy gillis, and Susan Hogan

Hallmark Channel / Winterfest

Catch A Christmas Star (2013)

Starring Shannon Elizabeth and Steve Byers

Hallmark Channel / Countdown to Christmas

October 1

HMN Exclusive: Good Witch Season 1 through 7 (2015 - 2021)

Starring Catherine Bell, Bailee Madison, James Denton, Catherine Disher, Sarah Power, Kylee Evans, Peter MacNeil, Rhys Matthew Bond, Marc Bendavid, Scott Cavalheiro, Katherine Barrell, Kyana Teresa, Dan Payne, Gianpaolo Venuta, Dan Jeannotte, and Chad Connell

Hallmark Channel

(Side note here, all seasons, including season 7 plus the Halloween movies, are on Netflix as we speak. I'm not sure what's so exclusive to HMN. Maybe it'll leave the streamer sometime in October but the new season was just added there.)

October 4

HMN Exclusive: Ruby Herring Mysteries: Silent Witness (2019)

Starring Taylor Cole, Stephen Huszar, Shawn Christian, Alyson Walker, Karen Holness, and Matthew Kevin Anderson

Hallmark Movies & Mysteries / #1 movie in series

HMN Exclusive: Truly, Madly, Sweetly (2018)

Starring Nikki Deloach, Dylan Neal, and Karen Holness

Hallmark Channel / Fall Harvest

October 11

HMN Exclusive: Pumpkin Pie Wars (2016)

Starring Julie Gonzalo and Rico Aragon

Hallmark Channel / Fall Harvest

October 22

HMN Exclusive: Christmas Everlasting (2018)

Starring Tatyana Ali, Dondré Whitfield, Dennis Haysbert, and Patti LaBelle

Hallmark Channel / Hallmark Hall of Fame / Countdown to Christmas

[howardhawkshollywoodannex]

Beau Bridges and Marki Bey in an original publicity still for The Landlord (1970). Marki was born in Philadlephia and has 12 acting credits, from this, her debut, to a 1979 episode of Trapper John MD. Her other notable credits include an episode of Charley's Angels and six episodes of Starsky and Hutch.

[gingerteaonthetardis]

Another Prompt for you friend: Forest Nymph Rose Tyler, in her floral house meeting a poor lost adventurer Doctor of your choosing (bonus points for including a reference to other companions as her 'sisters' because they're also nymphs just of different kinds)

hey, thinky, i LOVED writing this. that’s really the only excuse for it being over three thousand words long. also, i went with the ninth doctor, because… well, you know why. hopefully you enjoy this fevered, unedited little daydream.

-

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕘𝕒𝕣𝕕𝕖𝕟 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕓𝕖𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕓𝕖

-

The hour was late when he stumbled through her gate.

He should not have been able. He should not have been close enough to throw stones, let alone to wander in with his hulking human footsteps, leaving muddy tracks through her garden. But it little mattered what should and should not have been; the fact remained that he came in the night.

She had duties to attend to before bed. Small things. Strengthening the stems of her night-bloomers. Wishing a good evening to her moonflowers and rain lilies. Reminding the lilacs to save some sweetness for the morning. In a garden this size, one could spend all night wandering and only return to the house come dawn. But it was late, and Rose was tired.

(She could be forgiven, then, for her reaction.)

She gave a final adieu to the evening primroses.

(If he had only called out—)

(But he did not. He caught her by surprise. And so she was most ungracious.)

He came into the little clearing. The space between her home and her garden, filled with tidy grass and a hutch, where she kept her cow, Beau. She was just wishing her bovine companion good night when the man appeared. He came out of the mist, and through her garden—one moment shrouded and silent, and the next with all the rumpus of those who walk heavy on the earth.

He was large. Tall. Towering. It made her feel afraid.

“Who are you?” Rose demanded, trying not to sound fearful. But her body betrayed her, as did her power. He was so close to her plants, to her friends. He stepped toward her, arms outstretched—no doubt, he meant to tread carefully—but the vines went to him before her sense did, tangling around his dirty boots. Holding him fast. She was stronger than she knew. The vines hurried upward in a tangled bramble, shapely and spiked. “Don’t move another step.” Her voice shook.

The man spoke. “I couldn’t even if I wished to.”

He had a very human voice. Some call their sounds rough, or harsh. Unnatural.

But Rose could not bring herself to think so.

His voice was earthy—it reminded her of sweet, loamy soil, overturned and exposed. And yes, he was gruff. He sounded unused to speaking.

“Who are you?”

“A tired traveler, too long on the road.” It didn’t sound like a lie.

She approached, her footsteps soft and even and right on the ground. How humans got around in such hard-soled bodies was beyond her. But then, much of their world was hard.

She stopped at the border where garden met grass, her body between him and the cottage.

“Why are you in my garden?”

The traveler did not answer immediately. 

(And so, perhaps, she can be forgiven for this, too.)

Her vines reared back, as if in threat. Or, not as if—they were impossible to mistake. Thorns have a purpose in a garden, and so did they in her power. The spikes sharpened, lengthened into spears, and they pressed against his chest. Against where, she had heard, the human heart lay.

“Tell me,” she pressed. Her thorns pressed. Her fear pressed.

“Because I am lost, lady, and your flowers bloomed so brightly.”

She looked over his shoulder, at his path. The bootprints were easy to spot. And admittedly, he had not crushed anything. 

Unconscious of doing so, she smiled at her flowering friends. At the trembling-overflowing-with-life-vernal-softness of it all. Even in the dark, the garden did emit its own sort of light. He had seen it as a beacon? A guide, perhaps, to light his way on this moonless night.

It should not have been possible.

(But it was.)

Her vines began to loosen. She watched as the man shifted his weight, clearly uncomfortable. “You can come,” she said. “You can stay. For one night, only.” She held up one finger.

In the darkness, he smiled and his teeth gleamed lily-white.

“To whom do I owe my thanks?”

Her head tilted. “To me.”

The man laughed, and it was a good sound. Like something shooting up out of the ground, though perhaps out of season.

“And what am I to call you, lady?”

Rose turned on her heel, and with a delicate flick of her fingers, the vines gave way. They reshaped, rounded into a bush. And from it, blooms. Pink and sweet. 

Roses.

-

The man slept late. At least, later than she, for morning was her busiest time. She needed to oversee the distribution of dew drops, and bid good morning to everything in the garden. Everything that needed her attention, that is. Many of her green-growing friends were better off left alone.

Some beings were like that.

But dawn was just coming to greet her when she remembered—

She had forgotten to ask his name.

-

He met her in the garden, and it was under the bright sunlight that she finally got a good look at him. She could see well enough in the dark, but human faces were harder to make out. Muddy, somehow. There was no glow. In the sun, she could see the real shape of things.

She was pleased to see he’d shed his shoes. He walked like her now, in looks if not in lightness. And she was equally gratified with his appreciation of her garden. There was nothing false in him, it seemed. He was what he was, and he seemed to look at the world the same way.

She imagined that might be hard for him. As a human.

He complimented her cornflowers. He bid good morning to her bluebells, and said hello to the honeysuckles. And when he made it to the heart of her garden, where her prized flowers grew, he kept a respectful distance. He watched her tend them with a careful eye, and did not speak. The last to receive her morning attention was a very large, sweet bud in the very center of her garden’s heart. 

“She is rare,” she explained to him. “And a gift from a sister. I care for her as I would any of my sisters.” She stroked one of the plant’s sparse leaves with the tip of her finger, and watched it darken. “Soon, she will bloom, I think. It will be very exciting, as it’s a rather infrequent and lovely occurrence. And my sisters will come.”

The man’s face furrowed, an expression of concern. It made the places where dust had gathered on him stand out—the creases and folds. Around his eyes were feathers of age and exhaustion. He needed a wash, she decided. She would take him to the stream—

“Do they often come?”

Rose did not have an answer.

He pressed. Like fingers into earth, he pressed. “Are you often alone?”

She turned back to her princess of the night, and wondered if the plant might like to be seen blooming by human eyes. 

If he might, perhaps, stay one more night.

Feeding him would be a bit of trouble, of course. But then, surely some of the vegetables in the garden were ready. Perhaps even some of the grown-up plants could be persuaded to give up their leaves. The fruit trees could be asked for offerings. And she could slow his hunger. 

But she wondered how long it would be, before he needed more. Before he had no appetite for the things she could give him.

“Not tonight,” she answered, flippant. “Come inside.”

-

After a wash in the cold stream and what was probably, for him, a very light supper, the traveler settled down to sleep on her little pallet. His body was too long for it, so he curled himself tight as a fiddlehead fern. Even his fingers clenched in sleep. The new moon slipped through the window and stroked his cheeks. It could almost pass for glowing; she could make out the shapes and hollows well enough.

Or perhaps it was just familiarity.

Still, she slipped outside to sleep in the garden again.

She was on the cusp of unconsciousness when the thought returned—she still did not know his name.

-

The next morning, her sisters began arriving to prepare for the night blooming. 

The traveler had woken earlier than the previous morning and trailed her out to the garden, asking if he could be of service. She eyed his large hands and long legs and thought that—maybe, perhaps—he could reach some of the apples in the orchard.

She was right.

Though he could reach many apples, the traveler only took what was clearly offered. In a show of good manners, he picked only the ripest fruits, heavy enough nearly to break their own stems and fall. When he had gathered as much as she bid, he ate happily from the fallen fruits on the ground, even the ones split and dripping. Though he did not take what was already claimed by the bees.

Good manners, indeed.

Rose watched him lick his fingers and settle happily on the ground, his back against the bark. She cautiously sat beside him, and when she looked out of the corner of her eye, she knew he was watching her.

She turned to face him. “Why do you look that way?” Like a cat in the sun. 

His gaze did not waver. “Your garden is the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen.” But he had no eyes for her garden. The traveler looked only at her.

Rose blushed a pretty pink.

That was how her sisters found them.

-

“But where is he from?” asked Belladonna, her face suspicious and tight. “How did he make it past your wards? A traveler, indeed! There are no roads nearby!" 

"Donna,” Martha chided, “do not pester her.” Rose looked to her sister with gratitude, but she was occupied with picking herbs. Rose grew the best healing plants, they always said, but only Martha knew how to use them. She was perhaps the most well-versed in human ways, and therefore the least frightened by Rose’s traveler. Martha had greeted him kindly before begging his pardon and making for the garden, all her sisters in tow.

Donna’s expression was practically withering, obviously displeased. But sweet, gentle Astrid sought to calm their sister’s temper. “Perhaps he was lost in the woods,” she offered, “and perhaps the mothers showed him the way. It has been known to happen.” She turned on Rose with vivid cheeks and a keen interest. “Your very own traveler! What is he called?”

Rose bit her lip. “I have not asked.”

At that, her sisters looked up in shock; even Martha was surprised.

“I keep forgetting,” she admitted. “It does not seem so important.”

“Not important? But you—" 

A sharp look from Martha quieted Donna’s protestations.

"Rose,” Martha began gently, “there is a reason why we ask for names. For humans, all things come as an exchange. Power for protection, for safety. What you are doing is unbalanced.” She plucked a sprig of lavender and placed it in her basket, pursing her lips before continuing. “He has been invited, so your power cannot touch him and now you are the one left unprotected.”

“But I do not need protecting!” Rose cried. “He has done me no harm. He likes my garden!”

Her sisters exchanged glances. Only Astrid smiled with her usual temperate innocence. “I’m sure he does,” she said kindly. “It is very beautiful.”

“And yet,” Donna said, eyeing a divot in the earth. Bean-shaped and about Rose’s size, a remnant of her slumbering body. Two nights of burrowing. “You will not sleep under the same roof.”

Rose felt something flare in her chest. “I will tonight. I know I am safe.” She nodded, and a pulse flowed out from her like a strong wind. The leaves on the nearby trees shuddered. “You will see.”

-

They did not see. Not that night.

That night, they waited under the moon while the princess of the night opened her petals, gently coaxed by Rose’s soft words and brushes of magic. It was the work of mere moments. And to her pleasure, her sisters were kinder to the traveler once Rose had made her declaration. They made a space for him, so he could see the flower bloom. He was so tall—towering over the gathered women, and over the blossom.

His eye was easy to catch.

And then he did not look away. Not even when the moonlight poured over the pearl-white petals, the center glowing like a starburst in miniature. Not even when the fairies came fluttering from their burrows, drawn to the gentle incandescence of this rare blossom. His eyes held hers. Like they had under the tree, when he had run his tongue over his bottom lip.

Rose found herself wondering if he would taste like fruit.

The night began its descent toward dawn, and her sisters paid their respects to the night queen and made for their own homes, offering only final, curious looks at Rose’s traveler. They parted, each going her way: north, east, and south. The traveler too turned his back, and walked toward her home—north. The midnight flowers climbing her cottage walls stretched their faces toward him, blush and yellow and violet and white. They wore their interest plainly. 

Rose was more coy. 

She waited a few moments; she watched the night queen bloom persistently, though nobody was watching. Nobody but Rose.

The fragrant blossom would be gone by morning. She would droop and dry without witness. Such was her way, and though Rose could make her do otherwise, she would not. For the bloom had basked in her blessed moments, watched by the sisters, and by the traveler, and by the fairies, and by the moon. But she was weary now, and she seemed all too eager for Rose to go, so she might rest in peace. 

“Goodnight, sister,” Rose whispered. And the petals stretched in answer, like dismissive fingers. She smiled as she left the night queen behind and made for her little cottage. 

-

The traveler was not lying on the pallet, but standing at the window, looking out—but not at her garden. He looked beyond it, into the dark woodline beyond. Perhaps even farther than that. His face was furrowed again. He looked tired, like he had that first night.

He did not hear her footsteps. She had to touch his shoulder before he turned, ripping his gaze from the black line of trees. He looked down at her. He smiled. “Rose,” he said softly.

“I offered you one night,” she began carefully. “But you are still here.”

“Do you wish me to leave?”

“No!” The answer was hurried and sharp, striking the rafters. “You are welcome to stay… as long as you would wish.” Her eyes searched his. She knew her words were a risk. She was offering something without asking for something in return—bad form with humans. But what else was there? He liked her garden. Rose liked him. He could stay, if he wanted.

But did he want?

“Rose,” he spoke again, and she felt a pulling, stretching feeling deep in her body. He said her name in a way her sisters did not—as if he had planted the word inside himself. It sounded almost torn from him. Reluctant to leave. “Why do you not ask my name? Is that not the normal way, with your kind?”

She paused. “Do you want to tell me?”

“You answer a question with another question.”

She had no answer to that. Nothing clever. Her footsteps took her away, toward the kitchen window. The soft scent of jasmine trailed in through the cracked glass. “You have only taken what was offered,” she said. “I will do the same. I need no power over you; you are in your own power.” Rose had no energy for speeches, but she tried all the same.

Her back remained to him as he approached, his footsteps lighter than before. But she could still make out each step. She smiled at his hesitation. He had learned to tread carefully.

“And if I…” He paused. “I can think of worse things than to be under your power. To be kept here.”

But Rose spun, eyes flashing. “I would never keep you! Nor any living thing that wanted to leave!” Her hand formed a fist on her hip. “Even Beau can come and go when he pleases. I think—” and she turned furiously for something to do, to vent out her anger. The leftover sage from dinner withered where it lay, shriveled, grey, and frost-tipped against the dark wood. “I think it is cruel to use power that way. That is a word I have learned from humans. But my world is growth; it is change. I wouldn’t—”

“Rose,” he said again, stepping closer. His hands dropped to her shoulders. And she stilled. “You misunderstand me.” He looked down at her with his deep blue eyes. “My name is John.”

She felt that same tug beneath her ribcage. Her whole being, reaching for him.

“John,” she repeated.

He shuddered. “Tell me to stay.” His hands slid down her arms until his fingers brushed hers. They were rougher than hers, but impossibly soft. The caress. The intent behind it. All soft.

She shook her head. “I will not.”

“Please.” He spoke seriously. But how could he want to be bound to her, to her little home and field and garden? How could a traveler—how could John—be content to make his world so small?

She’d heard so many stories of humans. They were greedy. Hungry. Searching. They had eyes that shone, reflecting gold and diamonds and precious things. They would burn any forest, uproot every garden, if it meant they would have their way. They tread heavily, without respect. Their lives were short and burning. Like kindling.

But her traveler was none of those things.

“John,” she said softly, “I command only this: That you stay as long as you wish.” The words fell heavy from her mouth, weighed down with the power she had been given. That he had restored to her. “That you take from this place what you need. That you ask of me what you desire. And that the burdens that brought you here slide from your back, never to return.” As she spoke, she twined her fingers with his, letting the calluses brush her soft skin. “That is what I command.”

His hand tightened around hers, and it was hot. Human. But it did not burn her.

She stepped closer until the scent of him—of earth and clear water—overpowered the jasmine. Until she could hear his heartbeat. And then she was pulled to him in her entirety. Flush. His arms had wrapped around her, and he buried his face in her hair. He pressed. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Rose… Rose.” When his racing heart slowed, he lifted his head again and looked down into her eyes. His own were damp; he had watered his tears into her hair.

She smiled up at her traveler—her John. And when he bowed his head to place a kiss on her petal-soft lips, he did indeed taste like fruit. Like fresh apples. Like something grown in her very own garden.