#calhoun burns

[nerds-yearbook]

The last episode of the Mask cartoon aired on November 26, 1986. The series ran for 2 seasons and 75 episodes. ("Cliff Hanger", Mask, TV Event)

[eatgecom]

A cool double-sided design of the 1985 animated television series - M.A.S.K.(Mobile Armored Strike Kommand).

[adrian-sheppy]

for star trek au. want to make more . we wll see. . info dump under cut. its a bit disjointed

this whole au endevour has had me reading all the wikis for andorians. like “transgender” on andoria would be a blanket term because of the four named “canon” sexes (and the unnamed sexes that would fall “between” these!. and who knows how many genders.) i'm not gonna get into it here . there's a lot to say .

andorians are militant and family oriented. child rearing is very important. they suffer near constant population issues; one cause is that they need four people to have one kid. andorians are traditionally polyamorous and pansexual but they wouldnt use these terms . barney cant cut it in an andorian polycule so barney dating one guy (WHO IS VULCAN!!!) and neither of them wanting kids = traditional andorians instantly dislike him. guy with the biggest target on his back. joined star fleet so people back home would stop eviscerating him. like now when barney loses an antenna he is treated nicely instead of being roasted until it grows back! so cool . andorians in star fleet would be more accepting of untraditional andorian relationships . i.e jennifer lower decks . but gordons a vulcan so thats gonna cause some issues also...

...dont get me started on gordon's relationship with Vulcans and how they would treat him... like NO ONE talks about sybok outside of final frontier (i think he was mentioned in snw ?) not even in DISCO where the s'chn t'gai family is a FUCKING FOCAL POINT. they pretend he doens't exist because vulcans put things into boxes and rationalize them away . and when they cant? dont acknowledge it. call it irrational and move on... and then in comes gordon (number one hater of the vulcan science academy btw) and he cant regulate his emotions like the majority of vulcans can. he makes many vulcans uncomfortable by just EXISTING. its like the prejudice spock has to deal with but times 100x because he CANT keep his cool. it's used to discredit him and to question his vulcan heritage . and its called a “defect” primarily by vulcan doctors. his brain is just more similar to a humans than a vulcans. its a congenital disorder by vulcan standards.

they were both dealt shit cards and born into a culture that doesn't work for them (or gordon finds out later about said culture and see it has no room for him), so waht do? escape to the stars. misfits congregate in star fleet. and barney runs hot like the vulcan deserts and gordon runs cold like the ice moon of andoria and in eachothers arms they are at home and accepted for being the outcasted assholes that they are . . . . . ... and gordon is a chocoholic. love wins.

[sacreblugh]

im on the pot 🤑🤑

[jackbugz]

I'm 16 now (I drew this on my phone)

[formulaheart]

Somebody HAS to let me tell them about how Noah Calhoun and Jay Gatsby are the same but different and how The Notebook and The Great Gatsby are the same but different

[macroy64]

A Collage

This is a big collage of Characters, Celebrities and my friends.

[badmovieihave]

Bad movie I have Wagon Train: The Complete Season Five 1961-1962

[comicgeekscomicgeek]

She dialed that phone just like Rory Calhoun.

top tier simpsons bit tbh

[mrsmeowsblog]

Here is a small sneak peek to Chapter 6. It ain't done yet, but I am proud of this scene.

“My apologies that Heidi wasn't feeling well, Bill,” Edward said, holding his gaze longer than necessary, the unspoken judgment hanging thick between them. “But there are talks, cuz,” 

“What kind o’ talks?” Bill asked, shifting his weight.

Edward leaned forward, his lips upturning into a slight smile. “Secession was all the talk in the parish today. You missed it, cuz.” 

Bill's nostrils flared, fighting back the urge to ball his fist. “That so,” he said, leaning against the back of the couch. “What’s your stance on secession, cuz?”

Edward drummed his fingers against his legs. “States rights, the federal government has no right to abolish slavery in individual states,” Edward explained, his eyes never leaving his nails as he examined them. “Not only that, but it would harm the plantation I inherited after Ma passed. I make a profit from slave labor. It’s the way things are, Bill. You can’t change what’s in motion.” His voice hardened, as though this point alone should end the conversation.

Bill’s tongue clicked against his teeth in disapproval. What happened to Edward? He used to follow him wherever he went and even showed kindness towards Black folks. But now, Edward was cold and unloving towards those he sees as inferior.

“I disagree, Edward. The federal government is a tool to protect the helpless! Not the wealthy plantation owner or the rich factory man up north,” Bill explained, “A true follower o’ Christ’d see that plain as day.” 

The shadows danced around the two men as Edward stood, keeping his distance. “You’ve always been an idealist, Bill. The federal government won’t do anything against their self-interest. Look at the three-fifths compromise, the Fugitive Slave Act, the Missouri Compromise, the Compromise of 1850, the Kansas-Nebraska Act, and Dred Scott v. Sandford!”

Bill stood up and faced his cousin. A log collapsed, intensifying the gentle roar of the fire. The shadows stretched out, touching Edward as the light from the candles and fireplace cast a golden hue onto Bill’s pale skin.

“Three-fifths compromise is the problem! It ain't right that the government counts ‘em as part of a person like they’re less than whole. When they are ever’ a bit like you and me!” Bill yelled, squaring his shoulders and glaring daggers at Edward. “All’s because it’s law don’t mean it’s right!”

“Folks?” Edward asked, his face contorting in disgust. “Tools Bill! Ain’t no government… ain’t no high and mighty church gon’ change that!” 

Bill’s anger boiled over as he aggressively jabbed his finger at the door. “Out! GO ON, GET!” 

Edward's eyes widened, frozen in shock at Bill's outburst, but quickly recovered, adjusting his suit with stiff fingers. His hazel eyes were cold. 

“You're a naive fool, Bill,” Edward said as he stomped towards the rack to snatch his top hat and coat. 

Edward yanked open the door and slammed it shut, causing a sharp crack reverberating through the room on his way out. A framed painting rattled off the wall, crashing to the floor. Bill stood there, fists clenched, jaw locked so tight it ached. Edward had always known how to strike the rawest nerve. 

Bill's shoulders slumped as his anger faded. Deep down, Bill knew that war was on the horizon. Several states had already seceded from the union. It was only a matter of time before the powder keg exploded. 

He had already chosen a side, even if it meant causing an uproar in his family. He and Edward had been walking different paths for a long time. Bill wondered if they would ever cross again.

[getoutofthisplace]

Dear Gus & Magnus,

Soccer game after school/work today. Gus is still getting a foot on the ball, but not aggressive enough to really make an impact, and at one point someone flying a kite in an adjacent field proved too much of a distraction, but he had fun, which makes me and Mom happy. Game ended in a tie 3-3. The boys are referring to themselves as "The Ice Skulls," which I originally interpreted as "The Icicles." Season record: 1-0-1.

Dad.

Little Rock, Arkansas. 4.11.2024 - 5.33pm.

[storiesofsvu]

Rituals

Rita Calhoun x fem!reader Warnings: language, minor angst/hurt-comfort. Anxiety, general like, sadness I guess? This is a post-SSS update. There will likely be more in the future as I cannot leave this world alone and it all fits so well together and I love it so freaking much. 4.2k

Rita was always anxious on the days you were scheduled to come home from an undercover operation, never knowing what the actual outcome was going to be. She hated the days that all she got was a quick phone call, an update that the op was extending and she wouldn’t be seeing you for another month. Worse were the days you’d come home with lingering bruises marking your skin, or the one time she had to meet you at the hospital, your Captain forcing you for a full work up and observation after a concussion and other injuries. But today was different.

Today she woke up feeling jittery, the usual excitement about getting to see you vacant from her body, nerves tingling through her instead. She felt so off she even refrained from coffee until nearly noon, managing her first cup alongside delivered lunch as she took a break from laundry. Rita always wanted the house to be clean when you got home, fresh sheets on the bed, things tidy and neat, a hinting smell of cleaning supplies lingering through the kitchen and a nice candle or two burning in the living room. It was something she started doing for you not long after the two of you moved in together, prior to that she didn’t really notice or realize just how much of an impact going undercover had on you. Having to be on and ready to go twenty-four hours a day, sometimes stashed in crappy little apartments with barely any fresh air in the same clothes for a week on end. Sometimes you were thrown in so quick you didn’t have time to do more than prep for the case, coming home to rotting vegetables and no clean laundry. Those days you started going straight to Rita’s place, your body aching to relax, finally able to let go of all the tension you’d been holding for however long. It didn’t take her long to figure out what you needed and how to combat any lingering stress and anxiety, how to welcome you back into your real world. Now it had become part of her routine, a ritual to make sure things were as perfect as they could be for the person she loved the most.

Rita stabbed her fork into her salmon salad, forcing herself to chew another bite at the island as her eyes searched through the living room. It wasn’t too bad, a blanket bunched up on the couch, a personal development book her therapist recommended left abandoned beside it, the novel she’d picked up instead tucked in the cushion. There were a few case files and obviously a collection of coffee mugs scattered across the coffee table, a handful of dishes in the sink. She doubted it would take her that long to finish everything so she took the opportunity to open her phone and place a grocery order while she battled her anxiety and attempted to finish her lunch. She was adamantly trying to shake out of it, continually telling herself that she was being ridiculous, that she had no reason to be this stressed about seeing her literal wife again. It wasn’t some weird gut feeling that something was wrong, it was her apprehension about a few changes she had made while you were gone, the worry about how you would react to them, the fear churning in her gut that you were going to hate them or not understand.

As she finished stashing the cordless vacuum in the hall closet she let out a sigh of relief, pushing her hair back with her hand, still finding it jolting when her hand was free so much faster than it had been a week prior. She found herself fiddling with the ends of the bob as she wandered the apartment, making sure everything was ready for your arrival before she finally headed to the shower. Warm water cascading across her body mixed with the lavender soap seemed to be helping calm her down, her eyes softly shutting when she washed her hair and her heart didn’t seem to be pounding so hard in her chest. Wrapped in a towel she blow dried her hair, taking the time to style it a little bit, putting on just the bare minimum of make up to feel a little more pretty before slipping into cozy clothes. She had a text from Olivia on her phone, saying you had offered to run the last of the paperwork over to Carisi on the way home, but she’d officially kicked you out of the precinct.

Rita took a breath, taking one last look in the mirror to survey herself, her hands smoothing down her shirt before she tugged on a cardigan, scooping up her phone and grabbing her glasses before wandering out to the living room. She tucked herself into the corner of the couch, eyes flitting between her book options until her pulse kicked up again and she opted for the self care one, tossing the blanket over her legs. She got halfway through her chapter by the time she heard someone in the outside hallway, her ears pricking up at the sound. She knew it could be a neighbour, but the book gently lay open in her lap as she looked over the back of the couch toward the door, hope surging through her that it would actually be you.

A tinkling sound echoed through the wood, the lock moving a second later and she couldn’t help the warmth bursting in her chest as you half toppled through the door. Your hands were full, a large Tupperware in one, go bag tossed over your elbow with a plastic bag in the other. You’d obviously changed out of whatever your UC look had been in, leggings and an NYPD tee clinging to your frame, your work issued windbreaker draping from your shoulders.

“Hey, sorry I’m so late.” You started, while kicking off your shoes, crossing to place the items in your hands down on the island, “got caught up at Carisi’s with the girls and ‘Manda. But he did send me on my way with homemade chicken piccata and a bottle of pinot so neither of us can really be mad.”

“It’s alright.” She laughed softly, slipping off the couch to properly greet you.

“I’m just happy Liv wasn’t a drill sergeant about finishing paperwork, I—” You stalled suddenly when you actually looked up at her. Rita felt her heart leap into her throat at the way your eyes widened and for a moment she was scared until a smile burst onto your face, “oh my god, you’re blonde!” Three very quick steps later and you were directly in front of her, your hands combing through her hair as you admired her new look.

“I take it that reaction means you don’t hate it?” She asked timidly and you laughed, your hand cupping her cheek.

“Are you kidding me? You look absolutely gorgeous baby.” Still caressing her face you leant in, pressing a tender kiss to her lips. One that Rita utterly relaxed into, all the jitters in her body melting away at the feeling of your embrace, both incredibly happy to have you home and the relief she hadn’t done something drastic that you despised. You took a moment to hold her close, letting out a soft sigh as you nuzzled your nose against hers before kissing her again. “I missed you.”

“I missed you more, believe me.” She huffed gently, her hands raising to cup your cheeks before they slid down your neck, squeezing at your shoulders.

“I’m sorry I had to go; I know the timing was shit. Last thing I wanted was to leave you on your own.” Your thumb brushed across her cheek and she leaned into the embrace before shaking her head, fingers wrapping around your wrist and turning your hand so she could leave a kiss on your palm.

“You have an important job, I understand. Just the way you do about mine.”

“Mmhm.” You nodded, a soft smile on your cheeks before your hand raised again, continuing to comb through her hair, playing with the ends. “I never thought I’d see you with hair this short. It’s kind of a drastic change.”

Rita chuckled softly, “Liv and I got to talking, she said a drastic change really helped her after everything.” Her gaze drifted to the kitchen island behind you, “that it took some of her control back. She couldn’t change what happened, the things she experienced, but she could control what happened going forward. She mentioned how we’re the ones who make decisions about our bodies, appearances, that we can alter them whenever we want and that can remind us of who’s in charge.”

Your fingers twirled a strand of her hair before trailing down her cheek and curling under her chin, redirecting her gaze to you, “I love that.” You pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, “I didn’t realize you and Liv were hanging out.”

“Darling, Liv and I have been hanging out far longer than you have been a part of her squad.” She teased and you laughed, squeezing at her hand.

“I’m sure.” You reluctantly slipped out of her grasp, “I need to change. I showered at the precinct but I’d much prefer my own clothes.”

“Please tell me you weren’t covered in blood this time.”

“Would it help if I said it wasn’t mine?” You suggested and Rita grimaced, her nose crinkling in the way you adored so much. “If you haven’t eaten, the food should still be hot, if you don’t mind plating it up, cracking that bottle?” You raised an eyebrow toward the island and Rita nodded, a smile on her cheeks as you disappeared down the hallway.

You made it back relatively quick; face now bare of any remaining makeup, Rita’s Harvard shirt and a pair of pyjama shorts covering your body as you returned to the couch. You’d chosen to curl up in her corner, snagging the blanket and picking up her non-fiction, fingering through a few pages before placing it down on the table when she approached.

“Thank you.” You smiled as she passed you a plate of food along with a glass of wine.

“I believe all thanks go to Carisi.” She shot back and you laughed.

The television had some soft jazz playing, the soundtrack Rita preferred when she was reading or working, something comfortable to occupy the space without being overbearing. It was perfect as the accompaniment to your dinner, something calming as you readjusted to real life and Rita welcomed you back into your shared home. She was only slightly worried with how you scarfed down your dinner, her mind wandering, thinking about when your last actual meal had been before she reminded herself that you’d gotten very good at taking care of yourself on these operations over the years. The lectures from your mother were one thing, but when they started coming from your wife it turned out you actually listened.

You placed your now empty plate down on the coffee table, a gentle sigh leaving your lips as you picked up the wine glass, taking a large sip. Resting back into the corner of the couch, your arm laid across the back of it and you looked over at your wife, a small smile on your cheeks.

“What?” She finally asked, finishing her last bite of chicken.

“Nothing.” You shrugged, “just appears your hair wasn’t the only change you made.”

“What do you mean?” Her eyes darted around the living room, thinking she had left something embarrassing out.

“Looks like you hit up a mall or two, the closet is practically all new clothing.”

“Oh..” she chuckled awkwardly, “I guess it is.”

“A lot more neutral colours…” You left the sentence hanging, surveying her for a moment, “cute stuff though. Some of them almost political looking, you change you mind about that?”

“God no.” This time she did let out a laugh, swapping her plate for her wine glass.

“Well they look nice. I’m sure you and Raf had a great time picking them out.”

This time she ducked her gaze, a little huff blowing out of her nose as Rita felt a sense of melancholy sweep through her, “I actually went with Sam.” She glanced up to see your head tilt, your brow furrow.

“Sam?”

“Maroun. Manhattan ADA.”

“Oh! I think I’ve seen her around, works with Price, right?”

Rita nodded, “she’s nice, has a fire to her that reminds me of myself at that age, honestly I think her and Casey would get along wonderfully. But most importantly her fashion sense is fantastic.”

“I’ve heard good things.” You took a sip of wine, “I guess I just never thought you’d find a better shopping partner than Barba.” This time Rita nearly tensed on the couch beside you and your brow furrowed again, “what?”

“About that…”

“Rita… what?”

She sighed heavily, taking a gulp of her drink, “we… aren’t really talking anymore.”

“What?” You felt a little ridiculous repeating yourself again without meaning too, shaking your head as you tried to refocus, “sorry…I just… you guys are best friends, you’ve been through it all.”

“We had a falling out.” She shrugged, “I guess we’re just both too stubborn to see two points of view and that was the demise.”

“Clarify, please?” You raised a brow in her direction, giving her a minute to gather her thoughts. You frowned at the sight of tears building in her eyes, this was clearly more than just a stupid argument or something they both fought on.

“Do you remember the case Ed came to me about? Back in twenty eighteen?”

“Yeah, Ana. She was being charged with some terrorism bullshit despite the fact she was being manipulated into everything and never actually made a shot.”

“Rafael never understood that one. He thought I was being ridiculous, that I must have fucked something up royally and desperately be in need of money.”

“She was a rape victim.”

“I tried to tell him, over and over again. That it didn’t matter she didn’t speak up right away, I didn’t need it on the record. I told him he could at least give me the grace to look me in the eye and agree, that sure, his bosses would tell him to bury it, but we could pretend. I thought it wouldn’t matter because deep down we would both know the truth; Ana wasn’t evil she was a victim.” She took a shuddering breath, “all he said was that he would ‘do his best.’” She scoffed, “all I could think was that he was rolling his eyes over someone who had done something to escape, who only wanted to be free. He didn’t see her, didn’t understand her position, he didn’t want to help her at all. She was a victim… and he didn’t give a shit.”

“Rita…” your hand reached out, squeezing softly at her ankle.

“I wish it ended there, honestly I do. If it was just me being a stubborn bitch we could probably repair things, but it wasn’t.” She sighed, “every time we saw each other that case was just hanging over our heads, we fought instead of just playful bickering. He kept bringing Ana up, how dare I defend someone like her, what good could I possibly have gotten from standing up for her. When he found out I was visiting her regularly, making sure her commissary card was full, he absolutely lost it.”

“And you saw yourself in Ana.” You stated, your hand finding hers along the back of the couch. Rita let out a long breath, nodding.

“I want to say that case was the beginning of the end but I’m sure it started with Abbey’s.”

“Did you ever tell Rafael about what happened to you?”

She groaned, “there were a few offhand comments here and there. Things I hoped he would pick up on, I mean he was the sex crimes ADA for six years for Christ’s sake.” She let out a watery laugh, “Olivia picked up on it, he never did.” Tears began to cloud her eyes once again and for some reason she felt shame burning through her body, “I just wanted him to understand. And before I could, he disappeared. If we’d still been talking I would have been the one to represent him in court, things would have gone magnificently better and maybe he wouldn’t have had to run off to another state to find himself. We iced each other out and honestly it might be for the better, every time we pass each other in the firm hallways he has that look in his eye whenever he sees me. It’s like he can’t decide whether he still hates me or whether to treat me like I’m broken.”

“Rita, I’m so sorry.” You squeezed at her hand, “I had no idea. I wouldn’t have kept inviting him around, I just assumed.”

“It’s okay.” She wiped at her eyes, “it’s probably good we’ve been forced to cohabitate, maybe one day we’ll actually figure things out again.” She let out a long blow of air, focusing on her breathing in order to not let another tear spill over this, she didn’t want to spend much longer thinking about how she’d lost her best friend, how so much had happened that she was sure their relationship would never be the same.

“I hope so.” Your fingers traced across the lines of her palm, “anything else you want to talk about?”

Rita’s eyes flicked up to yours, a nervous look on her face and your head tilted, a small smile on your cheeks, “I’m honestly not sure if you’re going to like it.”

“I’m in support of anything as long as long as it involves us being together.” You replied and she chuckled, taking another deep breath before she spoke, her gaze drifting out the window.

“I.. I think I want to take some time off.”

“Babe, you know I’ve been in support of that. You need to take the time, probably longer than either of us realize, you deserve it after all of this. I mean, what does your therapist say?”

“They agree. But what I’m worried about is that we don’t have the same idea.” She looked up at you and your stomach nearly plummeted,

“Rita…”

“No! No, nothing like that.” She took a heavy breath, “I need to step back from criminal defence. Maybe permanently. I need to refocus on cases that actually mean something, where I know what I’m doing is right, where my client is someone who needs the help, especially if they can’t afford it. I want to work closer with Casey and Alex, do more of what they do.”

“I think that’s fantastic!” You squeezed her hand again, “I mean, you’re going to be amazing wherever you are but you’ll kill it at that.”

Rita smiled softly, “and…if there’s more?”

“What? Did you resign from mom’s firm?”

She sighed, taking another swig of her wine, “no, but I did put in a leave of absence.”

“Oh?” You raised a brow, watching as your wife took a breath, sinking into the couch behind her.

“I didn’t want to. But it was Casey who convinced me into it. Said she had her own issues in the past that she didn’t take the proper time to recover from and it ended up affecting her entire career.”

“Nearly got her disbarred, yeah.” You looked across at her, “so what are you thinking? Remodel the bedroom? Consume yourself with reality tv? Take up CrossFit?”

Rita laughed, though this one was not like any before, it was almost a sad one, her chest tightening as she looked across at you. “Well.. I was thinking…” she started, her heart throbbing in her chest, “that maybe I would check out that new resort in the Alps.”

“Babe,” you chuckled warmly, “I can’t. I used my vacation time already; Benson won’t let me.”

“That’s… why I was thinking about going alone.”

Rita’s words hung heavy in the apartment, the realization washing over both of you. A sense of relief flooding through her veins as she finally let all her thoughts out. Her heart pounded in her throat as she watched your reaction, the slight widening of your eyes before they softened, a small smile on your lips.

“Are you sure?” You asked.

“Unfortunately yes.” She let out a sigh, “darling, believe me I would love nothing better than a couple’s retreat but—”

“You need time alone.” Your hand raised, stopping her, “especially right now. I get it.” Leaning in you kissed her cheek. “You take all the time you need. You’re the love of my life and I would do anything for you, especially if it helps you heal.” You grasped her hand in yours.

“Thank you.”

“Rita… you mean the world to me; I’m not going to be upset if you need time to cope with shit. You’ve had so much happen and I had to disappear right after it was all getting exposed. I didn’t want to take this gig but—”

“You needed to.” She shut you off with a squeeze to your hand, “we both know how our jobs work, that’s part of the deal.”

“Exactly.” Smiling, you leant forward, kissing her softly, “so how about I take you to bed and remind you just how much I love you? Then whenever you’re ready I’ll take you to whatever airport you need to rejuvenate.”

“You would do that for me?” Rita asked, pulling away only an inch and you smiled.

“My love, I would do anything for you.” You shifted on the couch, wrapping your arm around her shoulders and tugging her to you, letting her relax into your side. “Rita, I’ve been head over heels in love with you for eleven years and that’s not changing anytime soon. I made a promise to be there for you no matter what, through thick and thin, for whatever you needed. I’ll miss you like hell, but if what you need is room to breathe and it so happens to be the air of a different continent, then so be it.” You placed a kiss on the top of her head, “I want you to be happy, healthy… at peace. So yes, I’d do that for you, because I know that you would do the same for me.”

“A hiatus is exactly what I need.” She murmured, nuzzling deeper into your embrace.

“I think after all these years you definitely deserve a break from the courtroom. It’ll be really, really good for you.” Your hand came up, toying with her hair, “Alex and Casey both took substantial ones… voluntary or not.” You both laughed, “and they both said they helped a lot. I was with Case for part of hers.”

“I remember. Your mother wouldn’t stop complaining.” She taunted and you rolled your eyes.

“It was crucial for her, especially after everything else she had been through that had bottled up inside, shoved deep down into a box to be ignored. She said she finally felt free again.”

“That’s all I want.” She murmured and you felt a twinge of sadness move through you at the tremor in her voice.

Rita felt trapped; she was trapped even after the verdict coming back in her favour. The darkness of what happened still hanging over her as she tried to move on surrounded by the places and people that held the memories of trauma. A weekend in the Hampton’s had lifted it a little bit but she’d returned to the city and thrown herself directly back into work, burying herself in it like she usually did to avoid dealing with things. Only this time, it wasn’t working. She needed to take a break from the courtroom, have a month or more of not dealing with other lawyers, no more motions or subpoenas, no more spending hours at night going over closing arguments. It was more than just a hair cut and new clothes, it was about reinventing herself, rediscovering how to maneuver through this world. She was more than well aware what her new wardrobe represented, what she wanted to present herself as when she made a return. She was still Rita Calhoun, she would forever be a shark in the courtroom and would always make the best fight for her clients, get them what they deserved. But she didn’t want to pull the amount of attention that she used to, wanted to be able to drift through courthouse halls without all the head turning and whispers. She had a new lease on life and she was planning on taking full advantage of it, not letting another second go by wasted or clinging onto the past.

Which is why two weeks later you were walking her up to security at JFK, a slightly tearful see you soon, but one that you were nudging her in the right direction. After all, you would be right there to greet her the moment she got back and you were there every single moment onward. You were each other’s rocks, bound together by the love and life you had created, as you were meant to be. You knew that no matter what, you could get through anything life through at you, because you had each other.

___________

If you dont interact with the fic you will be taken off the taglist.

___________

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[inkzectz]

THE SIBLINGS EVER

Use your head. But don’t be afraid to believe in things either.

[fridgrave2-0]

turbo made himself a hero's duty sona to have an opportunity to kill some cybugs (he's not laughing like a maniac while burning them with a flamethrower)

in HD he took a role of a shop keeper for players to buy or update their weapons and ammo (and he makes a presentation of every weapon you buy by killing cybugs with it)

and since calhoun guides the player to the tower she's always in the shop with the player so turbo can have a little chat with her hehe

[jackbugz]

a look into my evil and twisted mind

[100gayicons]

UPDATED:

Roy Scherer, Jr. and Andrew (Kelm) Gelien had a lot in common. They had abusive fathers; their parents’ marriages ended in divorce; and they spent their formative years living with their mothers. After serving time in the military (Roy in the Navy, Andrew in the Coast Guard), they found their way to Hollywood. Roy became Rock Hudson, a star at Universal, and Andrew became Tab Hunter, a star at Warner Bros.

Rock and Tab both had a secret that could destroy their careers - they were homosexuals.

Tab was working at a Southern California horse stable when a crew arrived to take photos of actress Ann Blythe. Actor (later agent) Dick Clayton was on hand and noticed young Andrew and asked him if he ever considered being an actor. (Boy, that sounds like a pickup line!) A few years later, after Tab’s stint with the Coast Guard, Tab met Clayton again, and Clayton began introducing him to people in show business.

That eventually led to a meeting with Henry Willson, an agent with a reputation for making good-looking young men into movie stars, always giving them more masculine stage names. Willson was known for cultivating unexperienced, handsome young men and turning them into stars. Rumors persisted even then that some of those men paid Willson with something more than the usual 10%.

Years later, Ann Doran, one of Willson’s few female clients, shared her opinion:

“If a young, handsome actor had Henry Willson as an agent, it was almost assumed he was gay, like it was written across his forehead.”

Tab was dissatisfied with his first few films.

“Whatever strides I’d made as an actor were lost in the stink of this fiasco.”

After “Return to Treasure Island” (1954), he decided to find a new agent. But dropping Willson as his agent would have consequences.

Agent Henry Willson had another major problem on his hands. Confidential, a scandal magazine, threatened to publish a story revealing that his star client was a homosexual— Rock Hudson. Willson made a deal with the magazine— he would give them dirt on two other clients in exchange for burning the Hudson story. The first sacrificial lamb was Rory Calhoun, who had an arrest record and spent time in a juvenile prison.

With Tab Hunter now a former client, it was easy to throw him under the bus. In 1950, Hunter had attended a “limp-wristed pajama party” that was raided by the police. Hunter was arrested (along with 20 other young men) and briefly detained. The article was published in the magazine’s September 1955 issue.

“When the Confidential article came out, I thought my career was over.”

While this could have ended Hunter’s budding career, he was spared. In fact, only a few months later, he was named a promising young newcomer in a national poll.

"Six feet of rugged manhood to stir the heart of every woman."

Dates with young starlets arranged by Warner Brothers helped to distract the Hollywood press— with Natalie Wood, Debbie Reynolds, Tuesday Weld, and French ingenue Étchika Choureau.

Hunter’s roles improved, and after two hit movies co-starring Natalie Wood, Warner Brothers signed Tab to a seven-year contract. During this time, Hunter experimented with singing and had a #1 record with “Young Love” in 1957. Based on its success, Warner Brothers created a new division (Warner Bros. Records) for him to release more albums. They even bought the rights to the Broadway musical “Damn Yankee” for him to star in the film version (1958).

Hunter was still feeling unfulfilled with the roles the studio offered him. In 1959, he bought out his contract with Warner Brothers. (The studio already had a replacement under contract— Troy Donahue.)

But what of Tab Hunter’s real love life?

In the early 1950s, Hunter met Olympic figure skater Ronnie Robertson, and they started a long-term relationship. Hunter, who always loved skating, sponsored Roberts’ training (athletes then performed under strict amateur guidelines).

They spent as much time as possible together— once driving cross-country so Robbie could attend training in Lake Placid, NY. Hunter even became friends with Roberts’ family. By 1956, the duo eventually parted but remained friends.

“I was infatuated with Ronnie.... To most folks, Ronnie and I were good buddies, sharing the ice. Few people considered what else we were sharing.”

Hunter’s next serious relationship was with fellow actor Anthony Perkins, whom he met at the pool at the Chateau Marmont in 1956. Hunter was immediately attracted to Perkins. The two went on double dates, but it’s clear the boys paid more attention to each other than the girls.

“He wanted to be a movie star more than anything. I wanted that too, but not with the same kind of drive he had. We were such opposites - but then maybe that was the attraction."

Venetia Stevenson, a young actress that the studio assigned as Hunter’s beard (fake girlfriend), thought Tab was more in love with Tony than Tony was with Tab.

“You never really knew Tony 100 percent. There was always a secret side, and he was a bit of a game-player with people’s minds… (it) was difficult for me, because I was living two lives at that time. A private life of my own, which I never discussed, never talked about to anyone. And then my Hollywood life, which was just trying to learn my craft. There was a lot written about my sexuality, and the press was pretty cruel.”

It may have just been a coincidence, but around the time Tony and Tab broke up in 1960, they each bought themselves out of their contracts with their respective studios. Perkins headed to Europe, but Hunter stuck in the US.

The consequences of going out on his own were that Hunter didn’t have the power of the studio promoting him. The quality of his films diminished during the 1960s and 1970s. He even did a couple “beach party” movies targeted at teens.

In 1989, Tab Hunter had an unexpected career resurgence. Alt-director John Waters asked him to star in “Polyester” opposite the ultimate drag queen - Divine. Waters could only afford Hunter for one week. He explained:

“I’m sure it was the least Tab Hunter had ever earned for a film, and it was the most I ever paid an actor.”

Hunter’s agent tried to convince him not to take the role, but he decided, “What have I got to lose?”

“Polyester” was a hit, reviving Hunter’s film career. Hunter decided to produce another film costarring Divine. That decision would have a bigger impact on his life.

While meeting with studios to raise money for what would eventually be called “Lust in the Dust”, Hunter met Allan Glaser, a young executive at Fox. Sparks flew, and they developed a personal relationship. Glaser also took on the role of producer of the film.

Hunter and Glaser settled on a ranch in Southern California where Tab regularly enjoyed horseback riding. Although out to friends, Tab was a private man. So, he didn’t come out to the public until 2005 when he published his memoir. “Tab Hunter Confidential”, a documentary based on the memoir, was released in 2015. It includes on-camera interviews with Tab, discussing his career and his life.

Tab Hunter and Allan Glaser married in 2013. The two were together for 35 years until Tab’s death in 2018.

If you’re interested in reading the full article Confirntisl magazine publish to out Tab Hunter, it’s at this link: