#also good on noreen for leaving him

[but-im-jess-saying]

So I watched season 1 of Sweet magnolias, and I have thoughts and feelings. So I immediately tried to spoil myself by googling the book series the show was based upon and found out that that event at the end of the season did not happen in the books at all. So I began to create my own theories as to what might happen next and also what I would like to see happen next. I thought about it a lot and I'm 100% sure certain they are going to use flashbacks in season 2 to show what happened between Kyle running out of the party and the car crash. Something had to have happened because we don't see anybody grabbing the car keys which means it was probably in Tyler's pocket, though why Jackson would have a ‘no phones’ policy at his parties but not a ‘no car keys’ policy too idk. So, either Kyle took them from him or Tyler gave them to Kyle, why would he do that? What would happen to get Tyler and Kyle in a situation where Kyle can grab the keys and get to the car before someone else can stop him?  I think that there has to be a couple scenes. They could have someone who was there just tell the parents about it but I think it would be more effective to show it directly. My thought as to who was in the passenger seat is probably Annie and I'm sad about it because I feel that it would be better if it was Tyler, like it would make more sense. But if Annie is injured then the show can use that for drama, with the burgeoning Annie/Tyler relationship and to further animosity between Annie and CC. In the book series Annie spent the second book in the hospital for a different reason and I think that the show might borrow a lot of that plot line for her recovering from a car accident, if they intend for Dana Sue to have the same plot line and HEA as in the books. I don't want them to though, but I think they are going to keep it because it's a romance series and when people watch movies based on romance books they expect the core couples to remain the same. But, with the cheating issue they are probably going to have to muddy the waters more to make it seem like Dana Sue overreacted, I don’t think they should though, I want Dana Sue to get together with Hot Farmer.  But lesigh, Dana Sue's probably going to get back together with the cheating ex and the show will likely have Annie in the hospital to give them time to bond and hold hands and whatever by her bedside. I hope they decide to change the details as to what Ronnie did to make Dana Sue leave him because like if it's straight up cheating I don't think i could support that because its like Bill cheated and he’s a selfish ass for that, should not be forgiven. Check, I agree on this point. Then you have Ronnie, who also cheated, but he’s not a selfish ass (because…?) and he should be forgiven… why? The show is going to go into why/how Ronnie is different from Bill and make a case for why he deserves forgiveness and show him earning it. I would rather see Dana Sue and Jeremy get together but probably it's going to be Dana Sue and Ronnie. 

I think that Tyler being the character who is in this passenger seat would make a more interesting situation because if he's in the accident and he's injured then it might foster a situation where CC and Annie have to work together to support him or whatever and they can get to know each other without the level of jealousy that we've seen between them previously. I also worry about the potential of a  ‘and reality ensues’ plotline of the situation with your kid illegally driving a car while emotionally disturbed and harming or nearly killing someone else’s kid.  In situations that like that people tend to look for people to blame and it would be rational for Dana Sue and Ronnie to blame Maddie and Bill for their daughter's injuries and  for that matter for any parent to feel that Maddie and Bill should be held responsible for their son's actions, but if it's Tyler then you know there's no one to be mad that isn’t already involved. it makes the situation more straightforward, or rather more simple to have only one family involved, I guess. And then there's no reality ensues plot and the town taking sides and gossip and legal actions between families for damages, or medical bills, and the Townsends lose their house and the friendships over because Annie was hurt so bad and blah blah blah and it's just not as interesting to me if you have something obvious like where there’s a forgone conclusion about what will eventually happen which is the destruction of the friendship, which is the best part of the show or you'd have to like blatantly ignore the natural reaction of a mom when her child’s been hurt, ‘no Dana's not going to blame her friend for this she's going to blame...someone else’, idk. It's just not rational or reasonable to me but if the only set of parents whose children were harmed is Bill and Maddie and it's clearly an accident Kyle did not mean for this then I feel like the show can be more interesting than just the breakdown of a friendship over a tragic accident. Though I do think that Maddie will one way or the other blame Bill for giving her kid that Goddamn car when she knew her child was not ready for that and if he had asked her she would have said no don't do that Tyler is struggling with rage issues He's going to drive while mad and wrap himself around a fucking pole and that's not exactly what happened but she was correct in principal.

Couples from the books I think the show might actually change is Annie and Tyler. A lot of people have said that Tyler seems like he might be gay or bi and I do think that they might change the core couples of the books for the purpose of adding more diversity to the show. I mean there are LGBTQ characters and there are characters of color but more is better in this case and Tyler would be a different type of gay character, or bisexual, depending on how they decide to play it and i think it would be really good to have more characters breaking stereotypes about gay people. One thing I definitely want to see is CC and Annie becoming friends. Like it doesn't have to happen right away like I'm not saying season two starts and suddenly they're braiding each other's hair and having sleepovers but I would really like them to bond and see them learn to appreciate each other. I’d like for CC and Annie to have to work together and they get to know each other without the level of jealousy that we've seen between them previously like CC totally thinks or perhaps knows depending on your theory about it that Tyler is into Annie and Annie definitely understands that Tyler's more comfortable expressing interest in CC and I think they both want to be what the other is, and I don't think either of them really has learned to appreciate themselves the way you do when you're older and I think that they could you know sort of give each other a crash course in self-esteem and be like ‘of course I want to be you you're fucking amazing’ ‘I’m not amazing, you’re a-fucking-mazing’ and you know that could sort of be the basis for a friendship between them.  Like, you know that idea of history repeating itself I'd like for all of the children characters to eventually go off to college and build life and then come back to Serenity and like you know could be a time skip sort of thing and Tyler's had a career in baseball and maybe he's had a career ending injury like in the books or otherwise had some sort of scandal. I sort of like the idea of borrowing the plot from the book where its a cheating scandal, but its CC and his relationship that ends and CC goes back to Serenity with his kid and Annie is there too, and Tyler is juggling trying to build or rebuild a relationship with his son and get visitation and everything, while also dealing with a renewed attraction to Annie, who in this version would be a lost love character. And Annie could be like, “No, we are not starting anything with each other you need to focus on you’re fucking kid, remember how you felt during the whole thing with Bill, that is exactly where your son is emotionally right now, so dont come to me for comfort, go to him and show him you care about him, you ass.” And CC could be bitter and angry, only to discover that Annie is on her side and Annie and CC could become friends through Annie helping CC get her life back on track, maybe Helen could take CC on in her law practice (I feel like CC would be a lawyer or something, but not a practicing one, like she has a law degree, but not an active law licence and she’s actually been a stay at home mom).

Or maybe Tyler's been outed as gay/bi... I don’t really like that but him being forced out of the closet but that could be a career ending scandal and Jackson could be a local business owner (or a teacher at the highschool, this idea just occurred to me) or Annie could have been a renowned photojournalist or just a well known photographer or something. Whoever they decide pair Tyler with I'd like for them to have separated and grown into adulthood separately so they can like meet back up in serenity and get to know each other as adults as Tyler is dealing with this upheaval in his life and his love interest could be the one giving him the tough love, advice and comfort he needs at that point. I think that would be a really good storyline there like he's had his dream come true dreams come true, but not been happy because somethings missing, or he’s keeping this huge secret, or whatever and when it all falls apart he goes home and meets this person from his past. 

But I do definitely want CC to come back into it in some way as well and maybe she's like been in serenity the entire time in some sort of analogous role to the role Helen plays in some of the storylines. Maybe she's got a successful practice, maybe it's a little bit bigger than Helen's is portrayed, maybe she travels instead but serenity is still her home base and she supports the community the same way Helen does.  I think Annie and CC could be really good friends. Maybe more than friends, if the show decides to go with the fandom preferred, everyone is gay strategy. 

Anyways thanks for reading my rant... Please come scream with me about this show.

#sweet magnolias #I don't know what couples i prefer #but I want the plots from the books to be heavily altered #and its kind of weird that i have no strong feelings about Cal #except that he is def better than bill #and bill should feel bad #also good on noreen for leaving him #insert good for her gif here #and jamie lynn spears is supposed to be back for season 2 #so yay for that #I hope she brings her brother too #i liked him #i want season 2 so bad

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Of something beautiful, but annihilating🚬4

Warnings: nonconsensual touching, fingering, deceptive behaviour, allusions to abuse.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Note: I haven’t updated in a minute but I got the yen to come back to Arvin so here we go! Also working away at my gif requests which are super fun :)

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

The fight echoed in your head as Arvin buttoned up the front of your dress, although a few were missing. He helped you to your feet and you leaned on him heavily, barely able to see ahead of you, let alone support yourself on your shaky legs. You climbed the stairs as your mind passed through a tunnel of shock. You didn’t realise you’d even left the living room until you were lowered onto the bed.

Arvin sat beside you, his hand on your shoulder as he spoke softly. You didn’t understand his words as you turned your face away and tears trickled down your tender cheek. You weren’t sad that Roy was gone, you were embarrassed that another had seen what you let him do to you, and terrified of the nice man with the pistol. 

Was he really so nice? You barely knew him at all and he’d had a gun under your roof. Sure, Roy had a rifle but that was for hunting. You couldn’t say or even try to imagine why Arvin had a handgun.

The lamp clicked off and the end of the chain clinked against the long stem. You laid in the dark, not daring to move, and after hours of dazed disbelief, you dozed off, your back wracked with pain from the tension and awkward position.

You woke with a stiff neck, a swollen face, and a weight in your chest. You sat up slowly and held your forehead as the bed shifted. Arvin dumped an armful of Roy's old flannels into the open suitcase at the foot of the mattress. You blinked and rubbed your eye as you leaned on one arm. You yawned and stretched your shoulders.

"What are you doing?" You asked.

"I'll see him today," he said as he pulled open the chest of drawers and grabbed the stained and torn denim from within, "make sure he stays away for good."

"What? Arvin," you bent your legs and crossed your arms over your knees, "he's my husband."

"He didn't act like one," he continued to toss Roy's clothes haphazardly into the bag, "he beat you!" He stopped and put his hands on his hips, "he never talked to you nice and…" he stopped and shook his head and closed the suitcase. He zipped it up with a sigh, "I heard him that first night. I figured, you weren't my wife, I could live with it. Well, I can't. You deserve better than him."

"It's not that easy. I can't just toss him out--"

"No, I did," Arvin insisted, "and I'll keep him out."

"You shouldn’t have done that. Last night. He'll be mad."

"So?" Arvin hauled the bag off the bed and dragged it to the door. The bottom of his shirt moved and revealed the butt of the gun sticking out of the top of his jeans.

"Are you gonna make sure with that?" You asked as you turned your legs over the side of the bed, "you can't just shoot him, you know that, don't you?"

"Of course, but he doesn't know I won't," Arvin looked back at you, "I'm gonna make breakfast then head out… how's your head?"

"Feels like there's a rock in my temple," you groaned and stood, "I don't want anyone to get hurt."

"No one but you, huh?" He challenged, "Look, I won't hurt him, I promise, but I also won't let him hurt you."

You neared him meekly as you hugged yourself, "why?"

"Because you do," he said, "because if you won't save yourself, I will. I have to," he looked down at his scuffed shoes, "I seen too many girls, too many women, hurt in my life. I ain't that old, you know? But I can't stand no more."

You watched him go and listened to him descend the old stairs. You frowned and flinched as you glanced around and caught a glimpse of yourself in the antique oval mirror your mother had left behind all those years ago. You looked as bad as you felt, worse; you couldn't help but be comforted by Arvin's concern, in fact, it felt good to have someone who cared about you.

🚬

It was hard to concentrate that day. Even a chore as simple as the dishes or sweeping the floors took twice as long as usual as your mind strayed to the night before and fears of what was to come.

You tried to convince Arvin to leave the bag there but he wasn’t folding, not like you. You admired him for that, but at the same time it made you squirm. Something had changed. He was no longer the sweet young man staying in your attic, he became the indomitable and angry man waving the gun around as he spoke about killing others without so much as flinching.

You remembered what he said. He’d killed a man before, or was it men? It wasn’t like you had anyone who could or would help you. You doubted Roy would come back even if you wanted him to, and on that front, you just couldn’t be sure. He was your husband and it was improper to put him out but let another man sleep under your roof.

The only woman in town who’d dared divorce her husband was Carmen Dolan and there was no where in town she went where people didn’t whisper about her; at the store, in church, and even on the sidewalks. It didn’t matter that her husband was sneaking around or that he was little better than Roy in his manners. It was a small place and people had too much time to talk.

Well, how many friends did you have there? Noreen couldn’t be called as much and all the girls you knew in school were married and too busy to keep up those old teenage ties. You could bide them at the sewing circles, they never were very nice, and you went to church out of obligation not out of a need for that ridiculous shallow socializing of housewives. Besides, you’d failed at all that, hadn’t you?

Then you began to worry. What if Roy flipped and hurt Arvin? Or Arvin hurt him? The suitcase would hardly be taken with a thanks. If Roy was ashamed enough he might just grumble and ignore the other man for the rest of the day, but if he wasn’t, he might just pick up where they left off last night.

You were hanging out the washing when a faded old Chevrolet drove up the dusty drive. You squinted past the stiff jeans as it steered closer and the engine stopped. Arvin climbed out and jingled the keys as he went around the other side. He took out a paper bag and crossed the yard.

“How was your day?” he asked with a smile.

You stared, dumbfounded. How could he act so… normal?

“Wh--what happened with…” your voice trailed out and you unclipped a pair of his jeans.

“Roy? Oh, he took his things and tucked tail after lunch,” he scoffed, “he didn’t look too good. Probably didn’t feel good neither.”

You nodded and dropped the jeans into the basket and tucked the pegs into your pocket. He crinkled the paper bag and stopped you from reaching to the next pair.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

You shook your head and stepped back so that his hand fell from your arm.

“I know last night was-- hard. I only did what I had to, not anything I wanted to,” his brows drew together, “here.”

He held out the paper bag and you eyed it warily. You chewed your lip and he stepped closer.

“Please, it’s, uh, I want you to have it,” he said, “you deserve it and maybe it is an apology. I went a little far but… I don’t regret it. Roy got what was coming.”

You took the bag and he tucked his hands in his pockets. “You didn’t have to get me nothing,” you said.

“Like I said, I wanted to. You do all the hard work here,” he replied, “and I’ll finish this up.”

He reached up and took down the next pair of pants and put them in the basket with the rest. He moved down the line as you watched him, the bag under your arm. You didn’t move, just watched. You looked over at the Chevrolet and frowned.

“Where’d you get the car?” you asked.

“Used,” he said as he folded a shirt in half and dropped it into the basket, “they had it down at the shop for a while now and I told the boss to take out installments from my next few checks. He didn’t mind much, he ain’t been able to get rid of it. Some work to be done but--” He lifted the basket and neared you, “you didn’t look yet?”

“Inside,” you said, “I didn’t wanna just leave you out here with all that.”

You nodded to the laundry and he pointed you toward the house. He followed you up onto the porch and through the screen door. He stopped to slip off his shoes and continued on after you into the living room. You put the bag down on the end table and uncurled the top.

You pulled out the large square and held up the record. The man who stared back at you had sparkling blue eyes and black hair. Elvis Presley smiled as if it was all a funny joke.

“There’s more,” he said.

You set down the record against the arm of the couch and reached into the brown bag again. You pulled out the fabric and a finely tailored pink dress in the latest style unfolded before you. You stared as he neared and he took the bag from the table. He revealed the last piece from the bag and set them down on the carpet, a pair of brand new heels.

“Why did you do all this?” you shoved the dress at him, “I can’t accept it.”

“You can,” he stepped back, “and just so you know, I’ll be paying my rent to you direct now.”

He sidled past you and took the album from the couch. He went to the record player and slid the vinyl from the sleeve. He carefully placed it on the player and lined up the pin. He turned back to you and crossed the room. He pulled the dress from your hands and let it slump over the couch cushion.

“Do you know the shimmy? I could show you? It’s the new thing,” he said as he took your hand, “you just move your hips, bend your legs a little, keep your arms out like this.” He moved slowly at first as he drew you into the middle of the room, “just with me, to the rhythm.”

“I can’t,” you protested, “really, I’m not a dancer.”

“Me neither, but it’s fun,” he tugged on your hand, “come on.”

He sang out of tune as he kept his hips moving. You watched him and tried to copy him, hoping to placate him long enough that you could escape to the kitchen. The dress, the album, the dancing, it all felt so wrong.

As the song ended, he brought you close and wrapped you up and slowed down. He swayed you with him as the record kept spinning. His eyes clung to yours.

“He didn’t know what he had,” he said.

“Arvin, I gotta start supper,” you whispered as you pushed on him, “please.”

“I got you the new dress so we could go to the drive-in,” he kept you against him, “Friday night. You like Audrey Hepburn?”

“I… haven’t seen much of her,” you confessed, “Arvin, really, the ham--”

“He’s not coming back,” he released you reluctantly, “I told you. I told him.”

“He’s still my husband,” you crossed your arms and looked down.

“Is he? He never treated you like his wife.”

“It’s the law--”

“Divorce him. You’ll keep the house, it’s yours. Your daddy left it to you.”

“And do what? I can’t afford it on my own--”

“You got me.”

“You won’t stay here forever,” you uttered.

He didn’t say anything and narrowed his eyes. He shrugged and turned away. “You have options and Roy is the wrong one,” he said, “you can’t hate yourself that much.”

You barely heard him and didn’t know how to respond. So you didn’t and left him to Elvis’ soft tones as you went to pull out the honey ham. You still had some of your sweet mustard left in that jar from last year or maybe the apple sauce. It was easier to focus on the food and not the madness of men.

🚬

The nights and days drifted by like sand in a glass. Whenever Arvin was there, even when he was in the attic and you were below, you were painfully aware that it was only the two of you in that big house. You weren’t afraid for yourself really, he hadn’t done anything to you. You should hate Roy for how he’d been to you all those years but you didn’t want to be the reason he got hurt.

But as the time went by, it was also harder to tell Arvin no. You never thought anyone could be overly helpful, especially after Roy’s indifference, but you were overwhelmed by his presence. He was always lurking around when you least expected, watching you, waiting. He always offered to finish the chore or kept you from doing it entirely. You should be thankful but it made you feel more guilty than anything.

When Friday came, you carried on your usual routine. You were mopping when the Chevrolet pulled up. He’d spent the night before with his head under the hood. He said it wasn’t too bad for the price and the repairs were minimal and none so urgent. 

The car door closed then his steps walked up onto the porch. As he entered the house, you hit the mop against the wall and kept your head down, swiping back and forth against the wood. He didn’t dare to step past the threshold and mess your clean floors.

“You should finish up and get ready,” he said.

You looked up at him and feigned ignorance. You hoped all day he would forget about the movie. You didn’t want to wear the dress, it made your wedding ring chafe just to think of it. You focused again on the mop and kept back stepping away from him. 

“Maybe not tonight, Arvin,” you said, “I’m tired.”

“You don’t have to work yourself sick,” he leaned against the doorframe, “really. You can always just take a day and… relax.”

You put the mop in the bucket and rested it against the wall. You took a deep breath but didn’t look at him.

“I don’t think we should go at all.”

He sighed and rubbed his cheek, “Really? Roy hasn’t even tried to come back. Hasn’t even tried to apologise. In all these years, did he ever once say sorry to you for anything?”

“Maybe not but I married him. I made that decision and I have to see it through.”

“Not like that,” he tutted, “besides, it’s just a movie…”

“Just a movie,” you repeated and walked over the drying floor, “alright then.”

He watched you and the thoughts wrinkled on his forehead. He let you go as you grabbed the railing and ascended the stairs. You felt his eyes on you, even after you turned down the hall, as if he could see you through the walls.

“We got time,” he called up, “no rush. It’s not even close to dark but I don’t want you to worry about… all this.”

You didn’t reply and closed the bedroom door. You sat on the end of your bed and clasped your hands. You still felt terribly trapped. You didn’t think so much of what Roy would say, he always said the worst. You thought about your father and how disappointed he would be. You knew he wouldn’t have let Roy treat you so bad if he was still alive, but he would still be sad if he knew how it all worked out.

🚬

You hadn’t been to the drive-in since you were going steady with Roy. It was a singular occasion and an unpleasant one. He got drunk and couldn’t drive home so you had to get behind the wheel and pray you didn’t crash. It wasn’t that you couldn’t drive, you just hated it. Thinking of it then, you should have expected all that came after.

Arvin pulled in as the sky dimmed slowly and he left you to go to concession and grab popcorn. When he returned, he handed you a box of chocolates as he cradled the large paper bag of kernels. You thanked him and opened the box, distracting yourself with the chewy caramels covered in milk chocolate. You offered him some as you looked around and waited for the screen to flash into motion.

There were a few families among the patrons but mostly teenagers, couples and groups, rowdy as they impatiently hollered for the film to roll. You hadn’t heard of this one, Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Arvin said he read about it in the paper and it was supposed to be a flick meant for ladies. He said he didn’t mind as he liked the actors.

When at last it was dark enough, the movie began and you set the box down on the seat and munched on a handful of popcorn out of courtesy. The credits began and you were quickly swept up into the life of Holly Golightly. You were almost agog to think that a woman could live like her. City life seemed so different, so free, so scary. And she didn’t let all those men rule her.

You felt Arvin slide closer to you and his arm snaked around your shoulders. You tensed as you focused on Hepburn’s waifish voice and offkey plucking of the ukulele. You tried to ignore him as you felt his warm breath and the kiss on your temple made you wince. Your eyes flicked over to the car on the other side of you, then the next. The audience was rapt.

His hand grazed along your skirt and he kissed your cheek. Your heart raced wildly. You wanted to stop him but didn’t know how. And he was so sweet and he did so much for you. He’d brought you all the way here and kept Roy from cracking your head open. Could you really say no?

“I know I said it already,” his hand lingered on the pink fabric, “but this looks wonderful on you.”

“Thank you,” you whispered as you kept your wide eyes on the screen.

“Really, you’re beautiful, honey,” he purred as he nuzzled your throat, “living so close… it’s hard…”

He pushed his hand under your skirt and up between your thighs. He wiggled until you parted your legs and grabbed your chin with his other. He turned you to face him and crushed his lips against yours. He leaned on you until you were flat against the seat and he brought your legs up onto the leather as he held himself over you.

He kissed you even deeper as his fingers tickled over the front of your panties and crawled up to the top. He slipped his hand down the front of your underwear and you whimpered. When he touched you, you were afraid but confused. It felt good, better than anything you’d ever done with Roy.

You gulped and turned your head as you gasped. You grabbed his shoulder and shuddered. His fingers delved between your folds and swirled. You murmured and squeezed his arm.

“Please, I’m-- I’m still married, we can’t--”

He nibbled at your neck and blindly reached up to grab your hand. He gripped the ring on your finger and forced it off and flicked it away. It rolled under the seat as he rasped against your throat.

“He’s gone,” his fingers danced around your clit eagerly, “don’t you understand? I’ll make sure he doesn’t come back, honey.”

“Arvin, I--” you squeaked as the waves swelled and flowed down your legs and you were caught in the tide, “please…”

You closed your eyes, your mind stormed with how wrong it was but your body pulsed with delight. He pushed his fingers further back and the heel of his hand pressed to your bud. He curled his fingers inside of your and you moaned as he rested the weight of his pelvis against his hand. He rocked his touch in time with his hips, as if he was fucking you, and kissed you on the mouth again, swallowing up your desperate cries.

Your legs wrapped around his as you came and you tilted your pelvis as you rode the high. He lifted his head to watch you orgasm and your lashes fluttered as you succumbed to the ecstasy. You squirmed as he slowed his fingers and stilled his hand entirely. You were out of breath as he stopped at last but kept his hand nestled between your legs.

You covered your face with your shaky hand and exhaled deeply. He pulled your hand down and rubbed the tip of his nose against yours.

“I’ll buy you a new ring,” he purred, “a nicer one.”

#Arvin Russell #dark arvin russell #dark!arvin russell #arvin russell x reader #the devil all the time #Of something beautiful but annihilating #series #fic #dark!fic #dark fic

[richincolor]

New Releases

A whole slew of books coming out this week, many we've been looking forward to for a while. I can't wait to add some of these to my TBR pile.

Perfectly Parvin (Perfectly Parvin #1) by Olivia Abtahi G.P. Putnam’s Sons Books for Young Readers

Parvin has just had her heart broken when she meets the cutest boy at her new high school, Matty Fumero–with an emphasis on fumero, because he might be the smoking hot cure to all of her boy troubles. If Parvin can get Matty to ask her to homecoming, she’s positive it will erase all the awful and embarrassing feelings He Who Will Not Be Named left her with after the summer. The only problem is Matty is definitely too cool for bassoon-playing, frizzy-haired, Cheeto-eating Parvin. Since being herself has not worked for her in the past (see aforementioned relationship), she decides that to be the girl who finally gets the guy, she should start acting like the women in her favorite rom-coms. Those girls aren’t loud, they certainly don’t cackle when they laugh, and they smile much more than they talk. Easy enough, right?

But as Parvin struggles through her parent-mandated Farsi lessons on the weekends, a budding friendship with a boy she can’t help but be her unfiltered self with, and dealing with the ramifications of the Muslim Ban on her family in Iran, she realizes that being herself might just be the perfect thing after all.

The Marvelous Mirza Girls by Sheba Karim Quill Tree Books

To cure her post–senior year slump, made worse by the loss of her aunt Sonia, Noreen is ready to follow her mom on a gap year trip to New Delhi, hoping India can lessen her grief and bring her voice back.

In the world’s most polluted city, Noreen soon meets kind, handsome Kabir, who introduces her to the wonders of this magical, complicated place. With Kabir’s help—plus Bollywood celebrities, fourteenth-century ruins, karaoke parties, and Sufi saints—Noreen begins to rediscover her joyful voice.

But when a family scandal erupts, Noreen and Kabir must face complicated questions in their own relationship: What does it mean to truly stand by someone—and what are the boundaries of love?

Check out Crystal's Review: The Marvelous Mirza Girls

Made in Korea by Sarah Suk Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers

There’s nothing Valerie Kwon loves more than making a good sale. Together with her cousin Charlie, they run V&C K-BEAUTY, their school’s most successful student-run enterprise. With each sale, Valerie gets closer to taking her beloved and adventurous halmeoni to her dream city, Paris.

Enter the new kid in class, Wes Jung, who is determined to pursue music after graduation despite his parents’ major disapproval. When his classmates clamor to buy the K-pop branded beauty products his mom gave him to “make new friends,” he sees an opportunity—one that may be the key to help him pay for the music school tuition he knows his parents won’t cover…

What he doesn’t realize, though, is that he is now V&C K-BEAUTY’s biggest competitor.

Stakes are high as Valerie and Wes try to outsell each other, make the most money, and take the throne for the best business in school—all while trying to resist the undeniable spark that’s crackling between them. From hiring spies to all-or-nothing bets, the competition is much more than either of them bargained for.

But one thing is clear: only one Korean business can come out on top.

Tokyo Ever After by Emiko Jean Flatiron Books

Izumi Tanaka has never really felt like she fit in—it isn’t easy being Japanese American in her small, mostly white, northern California town. Raised by a single mother, it’s always been Izumi—or Izzy, because “It’s easier this way”—and her mom against the world. But then Izzy discovers a clue to her previously unknown father’s identity…and he’s none other than the Crown Prince of Japan. Which means outspoken, irreverent Izzy is literally a princess.

In a whirlwind, Izzy travels to Japan to meet the father she never knew and discover the country she always dreamed of. But being a princess isn’t all ball gowns and tiaras. There are conniving cousins, a hungry press, a scowling but handsome bodyguard who just might be her soulmate, and thousands of years of tradition and customs to learn practically overnight.

Izzy soon finds herself caught between worlds, and between versions of herself—back home, she was never “American” enough, and in Japan, she must prove she’s “Japanese” enough. Will Izumi crumble under the weight of the crown, or will she live out her fairytale, happily ever after?

On the Hook by Francisco X. Stork Scholastic Press

Hector has always minded his own business, working hard to make his way to a better life someday. He’s the chess team champion, helps the family with his job at the grocery, and teaches his little sister to shoot hoops overhand.

Until Joey singles him out. Joey, whose older brother, Chavo, is head of the Discípulos gang, tells Hector that he’s going to kill him: maybe not today, or tomorrow, but someday. And Hector, frozen with fear, does nothing. From that day forward, Hector’s death is hanging over his head every time he leaves the house. He tries to fade into the shadows – to drop off Joey’s radar – to become no one.

But when a fight between Chavo and Hector’s brother Fili escalates, Hector is left with no choice but to take a stand.

The violent confrontation will take Hector places he never expected, including a reform school where he has to live side-by-side with his enemy, Joey. It’s up to Hector to choose whether he’s going to lose himself to revenge or get back to the hard work of living.

Enduring Freedom by Jawad Arash & Trent Reedy Algonquin Young Readers

On September 11, 2001, the lives of two boys on opposite sides of the world are changed in an instant.

Baheer, a studious Afghan teen, sees his family’s life turned upside down when they lose their livelihood as war rocks the country.

A world away, Joe, a young American army private, has to put aside his dreams of becoming a journalist when he’s shipped out to Afghanistan.

When Joe’s unit arrives in Baheer’s town, Baheer is wary of the Americans, but sees an opportunity: Not only can he practice his English with the soldiers, his family can make money delivering their supplies. At first, Joe doesn’t trust Baheer, or any of the locals, but Baheer keeps showing up. As Joe and Baheer get to know each other, to see each other as individuals, they realize they have a lot more in common than they ever could have realized. But can they get past the deep differences in their lives and beliefs to become true friends and allies?

Off the Record by Camryn Garrett Knopf Books for Young Readers

Ever since seventeen-year-old Josie Wright can remember, writing has been her identity, the thing that grounds her when everything else is a garbage fire. So when she wins a contest to write a celebrity profile for Deep Focus magazine, she’s equal parts excited and scared, but also ready. She’s got this.

Soon Josie is jetting off on a multi-city tour, rubbing elbows with sparkly celebrities, frenetic handlers, stone-faced producers, and eccentric stylists. She even finds herself catching feelings for the subject of her profile, dazzling young newcomer Marius Canet. Josie’s world is expanding so rapidly, she doesn’t know whether she’s flying or falling. But when a young actress lets her in on a terrible secret, the answer is clear: she’s in over her head.

One woman’s account leads to another and another. Josie wants to expose the man responsible, but she’s reluctant to speak up, unsure if this is her story to tell. What if she lets down the women who have entrusted her with their stories? What if this ends her writing career before it even begins? There are so many reasons not to go ahead, but if Josie doesn’t step up, who will?

#new releases #weneeddiversebooks

[shepaintsred]

Words for Bill

December 17, 2020

As I write these words down on this page, a flock of geese has gone over the house, voicing a baleful good-bye to autumn and a welcome to the dark winter months. For William Harvey Webb, W.H. Webb, Bill, the winter road was a significant metaphor. Through the years, if we stopped and looked at the details etched into those crisp winter tracks, we were to discover more than just snow; the light reflecting off of the raised edges and the shadows pouring into the deepest hollows of the tread marks, but also, we were to discover rich histories; family, friends, conversations, laughter and tears.

Welcome to those of you who have come to share in this tribute, today.  Let us, in our imaginations, include and leave some space for so many others who want to be here with us. Bill was so well-loved and there are so many that he loved in return

You can’t see him, but standing by my side, is one of Bill’s closest friends, Richard Dawson and over there, seated near his friends, Brock and Elaine, is his wife, Shirley. Richard brings to this gathering a lifetime of shared narratives and so, at times and with his permission, he will nudge me, and I will share the odd one.

My name is Kathleen Moors.  Bill called me Katie.  Bill and I have shared a magical friendship and this is an honour to be with the people who meant so much to him.

Bill was no stranger to loss in his life.  When son, Michael, died, Bill was devastated and felt helpless.  Perhaps now he can offer comfort to the son he loved so much.

To Bill’s family; Amanda and Wade, Gaylene, Andrew and family of Northern Ireland; brother, Bob and wife, Shirley as well as his five beautiful grandchildren; we offer our sadness, our support, and our love.

I will NOT soon forget how animated Bill became at the mention of time spent with his grandchildren, particularly when they were able to share dates out to live theater or musical performances.  Bill was a real gentleman and always dressed up for such occasions.  He saw events as spectacles.  

Bill was a romantic and a gentleman.  He grew houseplants.  He loved any animal that came his way.  He adored Ginger and Blackie…and Teva…and they loved him.  There was never a dinner prepared that did not involve a remarkable place setting and candles.  I remember Bill leading me to the outskirts of Edmonton after the celebratory festivities following the Alberta Centennial exhibit hosted by the West End Galleries. He did this so that there would be no chance that I would lose my way

Bill did not own a computer.  He was the most ‘unplugged’ person I know, relying on the library for the occasion of checking electronic mail.  He didn’t access television or cable, but did watch movies, his good friend, Brock, often sending them from Moose Jaw.  The sound of opera would often fill his nest with beautiful voices, something that he shared with good friend, John Oberg when John would slip over to Bill’s place or Bill would show up at John’s, the brushes cleaned up and put away for another night.

Bill was an educator.

Richard nudges… “when jobs were scarce in Oldham, England, Bill and his new family moved to Canada and a teaching job in Fort McMurray.  Then it was on to Castor where he was principal, then principal in Grand Cache, Alberta.  Next it was Superintendent of Schools in St. Paul and later Wainwright.”

While giving this all up, to Sheep Farm in Heath, Alberta, Bill never stopped being an educator.  He taught Sunday School for several years, creating dioramas and long rolls fed through makeshift television sets…he was an amazing orator, as well, feeling very comfortable speaking in front of any group.  He volunteered, teaching art at various grade levels and I’m certain that the children were, every time, excited to see him.

Bill was an amazing listener.  He was not one to busy his hands when you spoke to him.  He looked straight at you and gave you complete attention, asking the most interesting questions that, indeed, gave you every reason to believe that you mattered, you were his entire world at that very moment.  In the busyness of food preparation, I sometimes looked over my shoulder and saw Bill listening to one of my children and I wondered, “If only I could do that!”

Bill loved reading, especially history and non-fiction, but if you suggested a book, he would inevitably pick it up at the library or purchase the title so that he could give a ‘book report’ as he called them or he might even write out his book reports and post them in the mail.

Bill loved to dance. I never got to dance with Bill. This was a moment, lost.

Bill loved connection. He was a part of the Film Society whose members included Rick and Lyn, Mary-Lou, Carol and Noreen Getzlaf, Linda Wheaton and a long list of others.  Richard says that in the group, when the beverages came out, Richard was the only one not drinking….to this day, he ponders, now chuckles about whether they welcomed him to meetings for the rich variety of film OR because inevitably, he served as designated driver!

Bill spilled over with excitement about the Wine Club events, the garden parties and the brunches hosted at John Oberg’s.  I wasn’t ever a member of the Snake Trail Alpine Club, but that, too, grew a culture and history all its own. I went on numerous walks and hikes, with Bill and you probably did, as well. Bill had a marvelous connection with the landscape and conversations were had where all we did was analyze the sky, the shadows they cast on the land…observations that might seem unremarkable to most.

Bill loved all things related to trains and had huge dreams about drawing travelers into Forestburg by creating something very special around art, trains and community. He loved talking about the process of constructing all of the unique bits that went into building the landscape elements.  He was such a master at everything he took on!

Bill explained in his letters just how much he treasured it when someone was sitting back in his big comfy chair while he painted…I think we’ve all taken a place in that chair, but most treasured for their visits would be Rose and Virginia, I think.  Oh my. The stories Bill would share over the telephone about the encouragement that was given.

Bill enjoyed the company of so many.  The RB3 Richard Dawson, Bruce Beck, Brock Chrysler and Bill Webb!  He enjoyed seeing the guys whenever possible, but also really treasured their telephone conversations over so many years.

Bill was a health-conscious person.  He didn’t hesitate to share his journey as it related to the body or the emotions.

Richard Nudges…

Richard writes WW2 stories and he did an in-depth one on the Dam-Busters Raid, focusing on the 3 men from Moose Jaw and District who were on the Raid.

He completed it and the RCAF scheduled a little show and flag ceremony on the anniversary of the Western Development Museum. All systems were go.

Then Richard got a call from Bill. He was having knee replacement surgery and would Richard come to Forestburg and help out. So, Richard assigned his Dam-Buster Project to a most capable young man at the WDM and off he went.

Bill saw his recovery from the surgery as another competition and did all his exercise and activities. Before going to Forestburg Richard made clear that he would not be helping Bill with bathroom chores. If he needed to take a dump – he was on his own.  (Don’t forget…these are Richard’s words!  Lol I can just imagine these two guys laughing about this.)

He was an excellent patient. Richard cooked and they both put on a few pounds.

After five days he was able to get around just fine and Richard headed home to Moose Jaw.

On the second knee surgery he was able to stay with Amanda and Wade and they nursed him back to health.

Regarding his health, Bill consulted with the professionals with great enthusiasm and followed all directives when it came to achieving a healthy balance in his life.  He filled countless journals and developed the habit as a way of working through difficult times.  He was exceptional at keeping archives of events and didn’t miss a detail because…

Bill was a detail guy.

Bill’s approach to painting was incredible.  He set up his studio so that it was very spare.  He was not one for clutter or distraction when he needed to focus. He and I used to joke about blending our studios and agreed that it might never work because our spaces are so different from one another. He lovingly left voice messages, “This is Bill of the Northern Studio, checking in with Katie of the Southern Studio.

First steps to a painting involved airbrushing his sky.  From there, he delved into the world of darkest values and from the very onset, Bill used miniscule brushes.  He built incredible worlds as he came forward in space, with lighter and lighter values.  He was technical and deliberate.  His works are dreamscapes of places a lot of us know, but rarely analyze the way that Bill did.  Whether it was a huge vista of the Livingston Range or those ruts on a country road in winter, he paid the subject the same attention and care. He was prolific, painting right up until the last weeks before he died.  He felt responsible to his dealers and spoke often about his professional relationships with them. Over time, these people came to be very personal friends and extremely important to him.

Richard Nudges…

“One of Richard’s last official acts for Bill was attending the Memorial for William (Bill) Shurniak at the Shurniak Gallery in Assiniboia. Bill died August 8, 2020 and the memorial was open – at the Gallery and individual.

Bill and Richard visited the Shurniack Gallery many times and if Bill Shurniack was there, they visited him. He was still active on the Board of Husky Energy in Calgary and was still travelling regularly to Hong Kong.

As Richard sat in the Gallery, listening to the music, he could see a Group of Severn painting over his right shoulder. It is a painting of Cowley, Alberta, although, I think – called Pincher Creek Station.

When his meditation was complete, he signed the registry for himself and also signed Bill’s name. Richard called him from the car and he was very appreciative I had done that.”

Painting was such a great joy to Bill.  He and I spoke to one another endlessly about our work, supporting one another and challenging one another.  In his letters, he always began with what he was working on and ended with what he was going to go and work on next.  I am so proud of W.H.Webb, the painter.  He worked so hard.  The art community is going to miss such a gentleman as Bill, such a magnificent artist, driven with a passion for capturing the spectacular views that so many of us love.

Bill’s vision.

This eulogy has not written itself easily.  I was writing and writing and deleting and writing again, simply because I felt that if I stopped and the words wrapped up and came to an end, it would mean that my friend is truly gone.  I realize through much losing these last years, that if we truly love our family and our friends, they will remain.  I have to trust that this is the case here as well.

I wrote the final words on the page…Bill’s Vision.

What would Bill want you to know…or to realize…by his life and it being entwined with yours and I am left as I began, with the sound of the geese….and an image.  Consider these a gift today, that you loved this absolutely precious and beautiful soul.  And keep him with you.

 Wild Geese by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

[superthiccthighssavelives]

Give Me a Try Chapter 14

Surprise, surprise, Next chapter already! I made you all wait so long, I figured I would just post as I go along.instead of waiting at set times. Please enjoy.

@linseykalynn @alyss–in–wonderland @primaba11erina @autumnslovex

Chapter 14 - Excuses

I realize I was being irrational, crazy even. I mean, who has a fit over ice cream? I don’t know why he affects me so much, or why I keep running into him. It’s some weird, sick joke. Like I need another distraction, I need to focus. Yeah yeah yeah, I keep saying that don’t I?

I didn’t even look to see what I grabbed before I rushed off and threw my childish tantrum. Now I’m stuck with raspberry ripple, and goddamnit, I hate raspberry. I need to get this article finished, so I can get him off my mind, for good. And I did just that. The article, not the latter. Unfortunately.

I spent a few days busy at work, as usual, I asserted myself for once, and had a meeting with Noreen and Justin. I wanted them to know I appreciated everything they’ve done for me, and I am happy to continue, but I need to know that there’s room for me to grow. I ranted, raved, and pleaded my case for more meaty work. I knew being an intern, there wasn’t much of a guarantee in anything. They talked to Melanie, and she agreed to a meeting with me. Again, I went over everything, I practiced everything I wanted to say so many times in the mirror, I knew it by heart. 

Melanie seemed impressed, she deemed my article regarding the play, and the interview, worthy of being published, and assigned me a probationary column, about art, lifestyle, small events. I could not have been more excited. It not only gave me a chance to show off my writing, but to be able to get out more and enjoy the culture and happenings around my neighborhood. 

My weekends were finally a bit more relaxing. I took a walk down the street, to a cafe I’ve passed many times, it looked cozy enough to relax and get some work done, and scribble down some ideas and plan out some events to hit up. 

I was enjoying some music filling up my ears, eating a bagel, scouring facebook and the local lifestyle paper for goings-on, jotting them down in my calendar, when my eyes met with his. Seriously? Is he stalking me? I thought maybe he came to find me about the article, but that isn’t out until next month, closer to the opening of the play. 

I guess I should be glad he hasn’t come talk to me. I wonder why. I mean, I don’t know what I mean. His smile was distracting me, even if it wasn’t directed at me, but some fluttery girl babbling on to him. I got nosy, and had to take a pass by. She was asking him out. I tried to seem oblivious, still with my earbuds in, but the music had stopped. I felt a painful twist in my stomach hearing her speak and seeing the smile plastered on his face. I’m chalking it up to the cream cheese on the bagel. Or the coffee. Coffee never agreed with me. 

I felt strange. I just wanted to bolt. I couldn’t be there. I made a detour back to my table and escaped as fast as I could. I didn’t want to stick around for the outcome. 

My Saturday afternoon seemed a wash. I went home, and just sat on my futon staring at the wall. I don’t know why I feel like this. Yes I do. I just don’t want to admit it. I fought it with every single molecule inside me. I made excuses to myself, I’m probably going crazy. I needed some social interaction. I took a nap instead.

 I felt slightly better when I woke up, I made myself a real meal, I took a shower, and without even thinking I was getting dressed for a night out. My neglected eyeshadow palettes were put to use. I almost didn’t recognize myself, I don’t know if that was a good or bad thing. I remembered a band with a cult following was playing tonight a few blocks away, besides enjoying some music, I could collect some article info. A few drinks wouldn’t hurt either. 

The band was decent, typical alt-rock, nothing to write home about. I never considered myself a music snob, but I tended to sway toward the more obscure and unique. I threw back a couple drinks, jotted down my thoughts, and felt a strange loneliness. I looked at my phone, but realized I didn’t really have any friends here, or anywhere really. My friend in the states was so busy, we barely spoke. I don’t know if I could consider my work colleagues friends? Maybe. But I don’t think I could text them just to gossip. 

I did chat with a few of the band’s fans, getting their thoughts and what they liked so much about them. They were sweet, and after a few minutes, I decided I'd hit my threshold for the night and carried myself back home. 

I was hoping I’d be tired enough to sleep, but no dice. I picked up my abandoned sketch book and hoped for inspiration. The last thing I had attempted were hands. His hands. Sigh. 

I spent the rest of the weekend watching old black and white movies, and eating too many snacks. 

Having a column was pretty awesome, I’m not gonna lie, even if I haven’t had anything published yet. I was given enough freedom and time to get things together, so the lesser time making phone calls and yelling at people, the better.  But that also freed up time to think more. Not so sure that was a good idea. 

I ventured to a bookstore to see about finding some inspiration for my sketching. That would at least curb the thinking/feeling nonsense going on. All the books I needed were, of course, on the highest top shelf. I wasn’t tall by any means, and there was no ladder in sight, nor anyone to ask for help. I took it upon myself to do a little climbing, only the bottom shelf, standing on the very tips of my toes, my arm stretched as far as it would go, my short fingers trying to just reach a corner to pull it down. 

I felt my legs start to shake, I was extending myself too much, I tried to clutch onto anything in my grasp. Before I could hit the floor, something, or someone, had caught me. 

“Oh god, thank....” I shouldn’t be surprised, really. He must be stalking me.

“You.” 

“Me.”

“Are you stalking me?” 

He chuckled, shaking his head, obviously amused. 

“Sweetheart, don’t flatter yourself.”

“Funny, I see you everywhere I go.”

“How do I know you’re not stalking me?”

My eyes rolled involuntarily. His smile was starting to get on my nerves.

“Sure, I have absolutely nothing better to do than follow a…” I didn’t want to finish the sentence, because I really had nothing to say. My annoyance had no reason, not really. His presence just gets to me, and he totally knows it. He’s so, so, so...UGH!

His eyebrows were raised, an expectant look on his face, waiting. “A what?”

I shook my head. My mouth was closed, my eyes just boring into his. 

His gaze didn’t break either. It seemed like an eternity. The book I was so desperately reaching for was in his hands, tightly gripped.

“Can I please have that book?” I tried to use my most calm voice, even though inside I wanted to yet again, throw another tantrum.

“Only if you tell me what I apparently am, I am dying to know, come on then, out with it” He was definitely still entertained, his sly, irksome, stupid smile still spread across his face.

“Ugh! You’re so infuriating!” I couldn’t do this anymore, these feelings were getting stronger, and I wasn’t entirely sure if I wanted to choke him or throw myself at him. Maybe a little of both. The kiss flashed in my mind, and my eyes moved to his lips. I felt hot. I needed air. I couldn’t look away. My mouth watered. If I didn’t force myself out of here, this situation...I have to go.

I turned on my heel, attempting to just leave. I was caught by his hand gripping my arm. It set me on fire. Just that small touch. Fuck. 

I turned, facing him again, unsure of what was about to happen. 

He handed me the book, nodded and walked away.

Why did I feel so disappointed?

Chapter 1 - The London Underground

Chapter 2 - Theater

Chapter 3 - The Agenda

Chapter 4 - The Shoot

Chapter 5 - Back to Business

Chapter 5 ½ - Sketchy

Chapter 6 - Tired

Chapter 7 - Drinks

Chapter 8 - Temptation

Chapter 9 - Close®

Chapter 10 - The Interview

Chapter 11 - Strange Birds

Chapter 12 - Exhaustion

Chapter 13 - Mint Chocolate Chip

#Give me a try #taron egerton fic #taron x you #taron egerton imagine #taron egerton #taron egerton x reader #Self Insert #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

[deanmatthews]

DEAN COLTON MATHEWS

                     [ PINTEREST ]                                      [ QUESTIONNAIRE ]

@frostfordstart​

QUICK STATS:

hometown; frostford, al.

height; 6′0″. weight; 176 lbs.

hair color; blonde. eye color; hazel.

age; 32. birthday; 11/15/1987. zodiac; scorpio.

jobs; farmhand @ rollins family farm & bartender @ hogtied tavern.

FAMILY:

his parents are pretty average people, easy to forget but still kind southerners. his dad’s name is joseph mathews and his mom is noreen gibson-mathews. when joseph’s mom, catherine, met noreen, she claimed that the girl wasn’t good enough for her son and if  they married, she’d cut him out of the family. well, that didn’t stop joe and the two have built a happy life.

dean has a younger sister, isla may, she’s twenty five and open if anyone wants her but i won’t be submitting a wc for her (probably not at least) and the name is negotiable if you want her. the two were thick as thieves growing up and dean really cares about her. he loves their parents too, but he’ll tell you his sister is his favorite.

his mom’s parents moved to mobile a while back to be closer to their other children, all of which ended up leaving frostford for one reason or another. they see each other for major holidays though.

RANDOM FACTS / HISTORY / TRAITS:

he was never going anywhere in life and that was pretty clear early on. dean just didn’t have the drive or the grades. in fact, he was a great qb for the ff high football team until  his grades caused him to get benched.

works two jobs so he can afford the crapy one bedroom house he has on the outskirts of town, it’s older than him i swear.

he has a motorcycle that you’ll see him on the  most often but when weather doesn’t permit it is his dad’s old hand me down truck that is still running after decades.

he’s good with his hands and he WILL make that sexual, but really it just means he is a good worker, and also has his hands in a lot of skill cookie jars like being a farmhand, being a bartender, and minor handyman things or mechanic things.

let’s get this straight he a hoe. he a big hoe. chances are he has flirted with, slept with, been rejected by or slapped by almost every woman in town near his age. probably the 25+ age range, he isn’t really into girls younger than his sister. also is hetero.

so he’s a charmer, a flirt, thinks he’s smooth. arrogant, cocky, you name it, it him.

he doesn’t date much so any exes are more like ex flings, not ex serious relationships.

wanted connections for him would be broships (of any gender), ex flings / one night stands, any angsty past. maybe a girl he always flirts with and always tells him to fuck off. definitely women  who have slapped him for being an ass. maybe old family friends, friends of his sister, his sister if anyone wants her.

i suck at intros but basically, cocky asshole who secretly has a good heart but he’ll never let you see it bc he doesn’t want to. if he says something nice he’ll phrase it rudely.

#i couldn't pick so be blessed w all those gifs #frostfordintro #also questionnaire is pending

[ravenaboutfandom]

yes we CAN TALK ABOUT THE ENDING BECAUSE I AM ALSO EXTREMELY UPSET >:/ who?? was even in the car?? kyle?? tyler?? annie?? jackson's sister whose name i don't remember?? that cliffhanger should be ILLEGAL we'll have to wait so long before we find out what happens-- also!! how do you feel about dana sue's new Farmer Boyfriend jeremy? there is so much going on in that show but i love it so much

well kyle was mad at ty but maybe he got in at the last second?? annie might have caught up to him?? he might have brought jackson’s sister???? i don’t KNOW IT COULD EVERYONE

that show left me with SO MANY QUESTIONS and i don’t think jeremy’s that cute but dana sue deserves to be happy okay

it’s so good that noreen leaves ‘cause like?? that doesn’t normally happen??

good show, good show, but i’ve been left unsatisfied :(

also the representation is on point and i sympathized with literally everyone

[amorfatihq]

I spotted ARABELLA NOREEN FIGG in Diagon Alley early today. Have you heard the rumors? Supposedly the PUREBLOOD (SQUIB) is affiliated with THE ORDER. Born on OCTOBER / 14 / YEAR, they are THIRTY-THREE and identify as CIS FEMALE (she/her) and HOMOSEXUAL. They are UNEMPLOYED / an ORDER SAFEHOUSE OPERATOR; it makes sense, given they are CAUTIOUS & ALOOF but also INDEPENDENT & EMPATHETIC. When I think of them, I think of cat hair on clothing, blowing on a cup of lukewarm tea, and saccharine sarcasm.

When Arabella was born, her last name was not Figg. For the first decades of her life, her last name was not Figg – but she loathes to think of what it once was, to think of the people that still wear it proudly. They were (are) purebloods from New England, old money there and new money compared to the purebloods of the old world. But even if they’d only had the renown for a few centuries less, they wore it like a crown. They were the family of the Northeast. If you wanted anything, you wanted them on your side. And you definitely wanted their surname. Yet Arabella, born with it, took the first chance she had to rid herself of it.

See, being one of them was all fine and dandy as long as you had magic. But when no magical mishaps befell Arabella as she grew up, heirloom wands sat lifeless in her little hands, and an Ilvermorney letter didn’t come for her – there was no way to deny it. Her blood was pure but it held no magic. She was a squib. She was a shame upon their great name. They handled her like a pox, with gloved and distant hands. She was sequestered in her room at their annual dinner parties, her name spoken rarely and like a curse. The friends she had before she was confirmed as a squib turned their backs on her. Letters were never returned, gazes were never met. All she had when she had no Ilvermorney letter were the books in the study and the family kneazle.

When she was seventeen, so close to eighteen, her parents sat her down in the living room and informed her that she was to be married. It came as shock after having been treated like a ghost for so long. Her fiancé was to be a squib from another American pureblood family; they would be provided with an allowance and a home in Northern Vermont. Her heart sank. She knew exactly what this was. She – and the poor fellow she was to be married to – were being discarded, tossed somewhere no one would care to look. Their silence and good behavior would be bought by their allowance. The house would be just another cage. She returned to her room after the conversation, sitting on the bed and staring at the floor. Her mind raced long into the night – her thoughts reaching a crescendo until finally there was just one. She had to leave. Arabella packed a single suitcase (clothes and documents), coaxed her kneazle into a carrier, and was gone by morning. She reached the local wizarding bank just after they opened, withdrawing a few hundred dollars in muggle currency. Her future was unclear but she knew one thing: if she was starting over it would be somewhere they couldn’t reach her. She went to the airport, told the lady at the counter that she’d take the first flight to Europe – anywhere in Europe – and got her ticket. That was how she ended up in London half a day later.

Trying to live life as a muggle was difficult, to say the least. Her sheltered upbringing had left her naïve to the world outside, her only knowledge coming from the books she’d occupied her days with. But a kind apology and an American accent were enough to excuse most of her mistakes. She was also a quick learner, rarely making the same mistake twice. At last she had the freedom to discover the world and herself. She settled in, growing accustomed to life in London, her accent fading as her mistakes dwindled. During that time, she realized another reason that her broken engagement had appalled her – she wasn’t interested in men. Finding acceptance among muggles for that trait was difficult but she sought out communities and found people like her. In one of those communities, she met a woman that immediately had her heart fluttering. This woman was Miriam Figg. Their relationship was quick, Miriam moving in before long. A few months into their cohabitation, she realized Arabella’s cats were actually part-kneazle (the kittens of the cat she’d originally brought with her). Miriam revealed herself as a witch.

Arabella was reluctant to associate herself with the wizarding world again but she loved Miriam more than she was afraid of magic. They married in a small wizarding ceremony, only recognized by the magical world. Miriam got her another kneazle for the first anniversary of their marriage. The nerves she had about the magical world were beginning to settle until tragedy struck. Occasionally, Miriam would come home late – her job in the DMLE keeping her busy. But the hours ticked by, the clocking striking midnight and shouldering on. The sun cracked the horizon and Miriam was still not home. With dark circles beneath her eyes, Arabella sat on her couch, stroking her kneazle and nursing a cup of tea. Finally, someone knocked on the door. It wasn’t Miriam. “I’m so sorry to inform you,” the Ministry worker began. Miriam had died defending muggles from a Death Eater attack. When the Ministry worker was gone, Arabella turned on the TV and found herself watching a news story about the same attack.

The days following Miriam’s death were a blur. Funeral and burial arrangements had to be made but she could hardly remember them when they were all said and done. The funeral arrived; although surrounded by Miriam’s friends and family, she felt alone. An old man in a yellow suit and paisley tie sat beside her. “Lemon drop?” he offered with a soft smile. He introduced himself as Albus Dumbledore when the funeral was over and asked if they could meet at a later date. There was something he wanted to discuss regarding Miriam’s death. Arabella initially wanted to say no, too tired to even think about it, but he promised that she’d want to hear what he said. He was right. Sitting on the same couch she had waited for Miriam on, he told her about the war, about Voldemort, and about the Order. “You may not be able to cast curses,” he said, “But there is still much you can do to help.” She would do anything help the cause; when Dumbledore came back a few days later with an injured wizard, Arabella opened her home to him. 3 Wisteria Walk became a safehouse for the Order and Arabella was its host.

ARABELLA is played by Zero and portrayed by CRYSTAL REED.

#ch: arabella figg #bio #ootp

[delicatelyherdreams]

Deserving

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: After a bad blind date, you seek solace in your best friend and longtime crush Bucky.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 3094

The electronic sounds of music echoed against the cold tiles of the bathroom where you had gone to stay out of the crowds. The club had been too loud, too crowded, and all too lonely for you to stay out there.

Not that the bathroom was much better; not with its gratified walls and lipstick stained mirrors that seemed to rattle and shake with every beat of the bass outside. 

God, why did you think that this was a good idea in the first place? Why did you let your friend set you up on a blind date? That was just a stupid move on your part.

You hung your head over the sink as you exhaled sharply. You just wanted to go home and forget about this night.

Your date, some guy named Jim that your friend Becky just knew you’d love, had taken you out to a dance club on a group date with some of his friends and their girlfriends. You thought you were going to have a good time dancing with him...

Until he started to gravitate away from you in favor of the bar and his buddies. Not to mention that ginger who’d been making goo-goo-eyes at him since the moment she saw him. In doing so, he had, undoubtedly ditched you on your date.

Turning on the tap, you held your hand under the water until you had deemed it cold enough. You cupped your hands under the water, letting it pool in your palms before you lifted it up and doused your face. The cold was a welcomed change in the warm environment and you took a deep breath.

You looked up into the mirror and examined your appearance.

Your make up was smudged and the up-do you had so carefully put your hair in not even two hours ago was already starting to fall out. Your dress was askew and your necklace was also twisted with the clasp resting on your collarbone. You had to admit that you looked like a mess.

You sighed and pushed up off the counter to grab your phone from your purse. You were done with the failed date and, figuring it was unreasonable to ask Jim to take you home since he was having such a good time, you decided to call an Uber.

Tapping on the app, the bathroom door opened up and three women came in giggling and laughing and talking in hushed whispers. However, they halted when they saw you. 

The girl at the head of the pack looked you over once over before her smile turned sympathetic and pitying. “Aw, honey,” she cooed softly. “Bad date?”

You pursed your lips before nodding. It wouldn’t be any use to lie to them, even if they were strangers.

The one next to her joined in the sympathetic smiling. “Do you want to hang with us? We don’t mind.”

You bit your lip in a small smile. “Thank you, but no.” You held up your phone. “I’m tired, I’ve already called an Uber.” You smiled apologetically. “Thank you for the offer though. I really appreciate it.” Which was true. You did, but right then you just wanted to go home.

You walked passed the girls and left the bathroom back into the club. You wanted to at least tell Jim that you were leaving, not that you thought he’d care anyways.

You pushed your way through the sweaty mass of people as they jumped and pulsed around you. You squirmed in your boots, both figuratively and literally. It was so uncomfortable being in this crowded area with bodies hitting you as they danced. You couldn’t move an inch without coming into contact with a person and, in a way, it was suffocating.

You found Jim by the bar, a beer in hand, his buddies all around him, and the ginger attached at his hip.

You almost wanted to vomit at the sight of her all over him; not because you actually liked him like that, but because watching her press her front up against him in such a way that was practically grinding was absolutely repulsing.

But you couldn’t help the small stab of pain that ran through your heart. Even if you didn’t care for Jim in that way, it still hurt to know that he didn’t care about you enough to stay loyal for a single evening.

You steeled your nerves. You could do this, whatever this was. You were an Avenger, one of Earth’s mightiest heroes, you could tell your asshole date that you were leaving.

You took a deep breath before weaving your way into the circle of people, right next to Jim. You cleared your throat in order to get his attention. “Hey, Jim?”

He didn’t even look at you as he responded with, “Hmm?”

“I-I’m gonna go. I’m tired.” You half hoped he would say something to stop you, to ask you to stay, but there was no such luck.

“Mhmm... See you later, Noreen.”

You almost couldn’t believe him. He didn’t even remember your goddamn name. Well that obviously showed you enough about his character. 

You rolled your eyes as you turned away. “More like ‘See you never...’” you muttered as you began to walk towards the exit. About halfway to the doors your phone lit up signalling the arrival of your ride in a blue Honda Pilot. Sure enough, the car was parked on the side of the road right outside the club. You took a deep breath as you opened up the door and climbed into the back. 

“Where to, Miss?” asked the driver, an older man with a heavy Brooklyn accent, as he turned around to look at you.

You hesitated. You considered having him take you to your apartment in Manhattan that you had gotten whenever you had a date or wanted to get out of the Avengers’ compound for a bit, but then you thought better of it. All you really wanted was to go home to your friends. And so, you gave him the address to the compound in upstate New York.

He frowned. “That’s over an hour away, Miss. That’ll be an extra fee.” 

You groaned. “We can pay it. Just please take me there.”

He shrugged. “Well, okay. I’m not sure what you’re hoping to find up there. There’s hardly anything around.”

“Mhmm,” you responded absently. “Whatever.” You kicked off your heels onto the ground and fastened your seat belt and settled in for the ride. 

He was a nice driver. He tried to make conversation with you, but when he realized you weren’t really in a talking mood, he resolved to just turning up the radio which you appreciated. Occasionally he would make a comment about how nice the night was or how he hoped you were having a good ride, but he never expected you to respond. You’d be sure to give him a handsome tip once you got to the compound.

A little more than an hour later, he was pulling up to the compound’s driveway, his headlights the only apparent light for miles.

“Take this right,” you directed stoically. If you hadn’t chances were he was going to miss it. Most people did, but that was the idea.

He followed your directions and pulled in. But he was halted by the large electric gate that blocked the road. “What the...?”

But you were already unbuckling your belt. “FRIDAY won’t let you any further,” you said nonchalantly. You began to gather your things as you pulled out your wallet. Digging around in there, you pulled out two one-hundred dollar bills and offered them out to him. “Thanks for the ride. This should cover it and then some.”

He took the bills warily. “Who’s FRIDAY? That sounds like an Avengers thing. Y’know, one of Stark’s bots.”

You nodded. “Yeah... Avengers.” You shook your head dismissively. “Anyways, have a good night.” Without waiting for him to respond, you climbed out of the car and started walking towards the gate. You disregarded your shoes entirely, letting the hard gravel bite into your feet as you walked. 

The gate, upon your approach, opened just enough to let you in, and FRIDAY’s voice rang out over the speakers. “Welcome back, Miss (l/n). Shall I prepare a cup of tea for you for when you reach the compound.”

“That would be lovely, Fri,” you answered with a small smile. 

The walk up to the compound was long, or at least it felt long. It couldn’t have taken you more than five minutes at most, but by the time you had reached the compound, you were spent. 

As the large white building came into view, you breathed a sigh of relief. You were home and it was comforting, especially after the night you had had.

But as the building came into focus, you frowned. The lights on the second floor, right where the combined lounge and bar laid, were on and a singular shadow was moving about.

Your heart fluttered at the silhouette of a familiar head with long hair settled in the window. It could only be one person: the infamous Bucky Barnes, your closest friend and secret crush.

Your pace sped up a bit as your subconscious urged you forward to get to him quickly. 

You didn’t hesitate to enter the compound and board the elevator to reach the second floor.

“Your tea is waiting for you in the lounge,” FRIDAY announced as you entered the elevator.

You hid your smirk. She always knew somehow, that once you knew where Bucky was, you would want to go straight there. And she was right. “Thank you, FRIDAY,” you chirped as the elevator doors slid open. You discarded your shoes to the side and began to tread into the halls of the compound, taking the twists and turns until you came up to the lounge. You tried to not appear so eager as you practically ran to the room, the need to see Bucky becoming overpowering as each second passed. Finally, you arrived.

The lounge was cool and quiet, the only light coming from the overhead modernized chandeliers that cast a dim glow over the room. On the bar, the tea maker sat with a steaming mug in its grasp. Bucky sat on a bar stool near it, nursing a small glass filled with a clear liquid.

His head perked up slightly as your footsteps began to echo in the room, a small chuckle escaping from the back of his throat. “When FRIDAY started brewing a cup of your special tea, I should’ve known it was you who she was getting it ready for you.” At that moment he looked up at you and your breath hitched.

He was handsome as ever in his dark grey checkered pajama pants and white tank top that left his gleaming metal arm exposed. The golden veins in the vibranium shone in the light from the overhead lights. His long hair was pulled back into a loose bun on the back of his head and his blue eyes, though rimmed with dark circles, held life as they looked at you.

You chuckled as you strode deeper into the room towards him. Joining him at the bar, you took your steaming mug and stole a sip. “Yeah. She knows better than to let anyone else but me have it.” You smiled softly. “What are you still doing up, Buck?”

He swirled his drink around before taking a sip. “Couldn’t sleep. The nightmares got to be a bit much and you weren’t in your room for me to talk to so I figured that, instead of tossing and turning, I’d just stay up. Have a drink or two.” He shrugged. 

You winced. For the longest time, you and Bucky had come to the agreement that, if the nightmares got to be unbearable, you’d be his go to to wake up to talk with. You were totally okay with it. You could always catch up on sleep during pointless meetings and it was nice to know that you could help him. The fact that you were absent in his time of need made your heart clench.

Bucky took another drink. “What are you doing up and,” he did a once over on your body before cracking a small smile, “in a cocktail dress?”

You felt your face heat up as you laughed nervously. “I had a date,” you admitted averting your gaze.

His eyes hardened slightly at the claim, his lips turning down. “A date?”

You nodded nonchalantly. “Becky from the coffee shop thought it’d be a good idea to set me up on a blind date with a friend of hers. She was wrong.” You took a drink of your tea, the warm liquid cascading down your throat.

“Oh?” he asked, prompting you to continue.

You bit your lip as small darts of pain shot through your heart. What caused them, you weren’t sure. Maybe it was the pain of being rejected in such a blatant way or the pain of being ignored. You knew that the whole date shouldn’t have bothered you the way it did, but at the same time, you had no control over your emotions. “It’s nothing,” you said brushing it off.

“(y/n)...” He had set his drink down and turned to face you now. His eyes were filled with concern. “What happened?”

Your gaze turned downwards, dejected. “He took me out to dance but he hardly talked to me all night and practically ditched me for his friends and another woman. Hell, he didn’t even remember my name.” You breathed a bitter laugh and scrunched your nose. “My first date in forever and the guy is trash.”

Bucky looked like he honestly wanted to fight the guy—you could see it in his eyes—but he seemed to be reeling in the anger for your sake. Instead, his mouth opened and he said, “Then that guy doesn’t deserve to have a woman like you.” He shook his head. “He doesn’t deserve someone as understanding and kind like you. He doesn’t deserve someone who will support him unconditionally. He doesn’t deserve someone who will... who will actually stay up with him when he needs her. He doesn’t deserve a woman who doubles as a best friend and I...” he trailed off, his voice growing small.

You, however, were hanging onto his every word as he basically described your relationship with him. Someone who will stay up with him when he needs her: you and Bucky. A woman who doubles as a best friend: you were a best friend for Bucky. You couldn’t stop the smile from rising to your face.

Bucky shook his head. “No. He doesn’t deserve you. But enough about him and what he deserves. You deserve so much more. You deserve someone who will be there for you just as much as you are for them. But right now, above all, you deserve a better date.” He finished off his drink and stood. “Hey, FRIDAY? Can you play some dance music?” He was answered by a soft melody playing on the overhead speakers and he stood up. He offered you his hand.

You laughed. “Bucky! What are you doing?” You were skeptical, but nonetheless you took his hand and joined him in standing.

“Making up for your bad date. Come on, I’ll show you how real men dance.” He led you away from the bar to the center of the lounge without waiting for your answer.

You followed after him with little resistance, your feet carrying you to him. “Bucky, I—”

He shook his head to silence you. “Please. I think we both need to dance tonight.” His eyes sparked with longing as he gazed down at your face. “Just let me lead.” He settled his metal hand on your waist, the cool material chilling your skin through the fabric of your dress, and took your hand in his flesh one. 

You, in turn, gently squeezed his hand and rested your other hand on his shoulder, right above the spot where metal met the man.

He shuddered under your touch, the sensation making you jump. “Hey, don’t pull away,” he said. “It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

You nodded and set your hand back down on his shoulder as he began to guide you in dancing in small circles.

His feet glided across the wooden floors of the lounge, the footsteps echoing gently off the walls. He swept you off with him, taking you all around; slow enough that you could keep up but quick enough to keep you entertained. He stayed silent and, in a way, you were grateful for that.

It gave you time to think and reflect.

You knew why you had agreed to go out with Jim: you were lonely and tired of being alone. Pining after your best friend had proved to be fruitless and, in an attempt to fill the hole it left, you decided that going out with him wouldn’t be the worst thing to try. But you knew how that turned out and you ended up here, in the arms of the man you wished was yours.

Bucky tilted his head as he examined your expression. “What is it?”

You looked up at him. “You were talking about what we deserved earlier. What do I deserve?”

“You deserve the world, (y/n). You deserve someone who will give you the world. You deserve—”

“You?” you interrupted, your voice uncertain and timid.

He stopped. His eyes locked on yours, searching for your meaning. 

You feared you had overstepped. Despite you having feelings for Bucky, you weren’t sure that he felt the same way. 

Slowly, a soft smile broke across his face. “Yes, if you’d have me. I just don’t think I deserve you.”

“Oh, Bucky, of course you do. You deserve everything.” You smiled up at him. “And I’d be happy to have you. Just say the word.”

He smiled softly. “You don’t deserve me. You deserve someone better.”

You had to stop yourself from laughing. “No. No I don’t.” You took a step in closer to him and peered up at him. “I deserve you, Buck,” you whispered as you pushed up on your tiptoes and pressed a tender kiss to his lips.

He kissed you back without hesitation, his hand moving from your waist to the back of your neck as he deepened it.

You couldn’t help but smile.

This was right.

And you more than deserved each other.

Bucky Barnes Taglist: @cauraphernelia

Permanent Taglist: @dont-speak-just-read @becauseismellgood @impalaimages @breezy1415 @lou-la-lou @aestheticapricity @a-book-pressed-rose @watchoutforfrostbite @dragonborn791924 

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #james barnes #james Buchanan barnes #winter soldier #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #deserving #what you deserve #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes ones shot #bucky oneshot #bucky one shot #bucky story #bucky barnes story #x reader #delicatelyherdreams #bucky barnes

[mariocki]

RIP Shane Rimmer (28.5.1929 - 29.3.2019)

Like several of his fellow countrymen (Neil McCallum, Paul Maxwell, and Cec Linder among them) Shane Rimmer - who has died at the age of 89 - was a Canadian who made his home in Britain, playing Americans. In a career that lasted sixty years he provided stalwart support on television and in films, whilst becoming one of the go-to voice artists of his generation.

Born in 1929, Rimmer's background was international from the very beginning; his father, Thomas Rimmer, was an Irishman who moved to New York and married an English expat, Vera Franklin. The two relocated to Toronto and had two children, Shane and his sister Noreen. The young Rimmer was known for his voice from an early age, quickly establishing himself as a singer and DJ on Canadian radio. His first brush with television came in 1958, as he became the host of musical programme Come Fly With Me.

In 1959 he took his first trip to the UK, travelling the country as part of a singing trio. By 1962 he was touring the world, entertaining US troops stationed abroad. It was on one such trip that he met Sheila Logan, a dancer: the two were married in 1963, and were to remain together for the rest of his life. The couple settled in London, where Sheila gave up dancing to become Shane's agent. After a slow start, his acting career was beginning to take off.

His most notable early roles were in Stanley Kubrick's Dr Strangelove (1964), as Slim Pickens' co-pilot Captain 'Ace' Owens, and a recurring role in BBC soap opera Compact (1962 - 1965). This TV exposure led to a slew of guest spots: there was The Saint and Ghost Squad in 1964, the following year Danger Man, and a memorable turn in Doctor Who (3.7, The Gunfighters, 1966). In most of these appearances Rimmer played Americans; there was a limited number of American actors working in the UK at this time, but several Canadians had made their home here and found a niche playing their neighbours to the South on British TV. Some, like Donald Sutherland, would eventually move to the States, and bigger and better things; Shane was in London for the long haul, and so had a ready income of parts available.

In 1964, Gerry Anderson began production on what was to be his most successful and enduring series: Thunderbirds (ITC, 1965 - 1966). Like his financial backer, ITC's Lew Grade, Anderson always had an eye towards transatlantic sales - as such, he decided to make his heroes American and to cast actors who could convincingly perform American accents. As was typical at the time, the majority of the cast were in fact Australian and Canadian; Rimmer, who had been noticed by producers for his work on Compact, was given the role of eldest brother and pilot of Thunderbird 1 Scott Tracy. He may not have been seen on screen, but the role brought Shane genre immortality, as well as an enduring working relationship with Gerry and Sylvia Anderson. He went on to voice numerous minor characters, uncredited, in Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons (1967 - 1968), Joe 90 (1968 - 1969) and The Secret Service (1969), and contributed scripts to all three series. In front of the cameras, he continued to put in guest appearances in the likes of The Persuaders! (1971), The Protectors (1973), Hadleigh (1976) and, working for the Andersons again, episodes of UFO (1970 - 1971) and Space 1999 (1975 - 1976).

Having settled into the role of character actor, Shane spent the next few decades plugging away in both film and television. There were some big hitters; uncredited roles in Star Wars: A New Hope (1977), Superman (1978) and Gandhi (1983), as well as some meatier roles in Warlords Of The Deep (1978), The Hunger (1983) and a supporting role in The Spy Who Loved Me (1977), assisting Roger Moore's Bond in taking down the bad guys. On television there were notable roles in Oppenheimer (1980), A Very British Coup (1988) and Coronation Street (1988); an earlier appearance on the series had gained him notoriety, when he gunned down beloved character Stan Ogden.

Shane continued acting for the rest of his life, keeping especially busy in voice work; in recent years he worked on the Thunderbirds revival (2015) and had a recurring guest role on The Amazing World Of Gumball (2014 - 2017). He also found the time to write a novel, an autobiography and to record narration for the official Nasa guided tour at Cape Canaveral. A life-long friend of American expat Ed Bishop - himself a regular contributor to Gerry Anderson's shows - the two good humouredly dubbed themselves the 'Rent-a-Yanks' of British television. A popular guest at conventions and a tireless worker, Rimmer leaves an enviable filmography. He is survived by wife Sheila and their three sons.

#shane rimmer #death ment #obituary #rip #thunderbirds #captain scarlet #ufo #space 1999 #joe 90 #doctor who #coronation street #superman #star wars #james bond #for your eyes only #oppenheimer #ghost squad #danger man #the saint #gerry anderson #ed bishop #compact #dr strangelove #the amazing world of gumball #sorry for the long post #as always im a bit late because these take me so long to do #i don't know why but they really take it out of me #anyway rip shane

[siriusstarx]

Some Quintessence naughtiness!! Cardia Blackwell: D, T, V Sisi (THE GIRL NOT THE DOG... I think she might be my fave /)//v//(\ ) : E, F, G, W

Yay! With great pleasure! 

These asks are related to my Contemporary AU fic “Quintessence” which I still need to write a proper summary for and post publically. (It is available on request if you don’t mind a description instead of a truly elegant summary.) It follows the reborn soul of Cardia and the decendents of the Lupin Gang (along with the immortal and long lived members of the Gang.) Since only two people have read it so far, I’m putting this behind a cut. 

Cardia Blackwell: 

D: Dirty Secret. At first I was like ??? Cardia is very much a virgin. She has fiercely suppressed all desire for a lover, thinking such things forever impossible for her to have. But… when I did a little digging…

Cardia went to Egypt when she was 18 with her Advanced Ancient Studies group. While there, they visited a newly excavated cave dwelling that she heard of through her alchemy connections. The caves were empty except for three pieces of stone furniture, a workbench, a chair, and a raised bed, all clearly and beautifully carved with some of the most ancient symbols of alchemy known. Cardia was mesmerized by them, but was only able to do a few rubbings and take pictures to examine later before they had to leave. 

She was examining the photos late that night when she noticed a familiar symbol on the stone table— Hermes Trismegistus own ancient personal signature. 

It was one of Cardia’s most cherished desires to visit one of Hermes Trismegistus’s laboratories. Not stopping to think… Certainly not acting at all like the serious, mature teenager known by her teachers and classmates, she crept back to Hermes laboratory with her chemical kit. Her goal to find out when Hermes had lived there.

She finished her work, but couldn’t make herself leave. She could almost see a tall, beautiful man in robes working at the bench making medicinal elixirs. She could feel his presence in the cave. She wondered what it might be like to have lived there with him— the only man she had ever desired at that point. She laid down on Hermes‘ bed and, caught up in the enchantment of the moment, masturbated to a spectacular orgasm… and fell asleep. 

She dreamed (???) that she heard a deep sigh, “It has been much too long since these eyes and walls have seen such a sight.” she felt a big hand stroking her head and a soft touch on her lips, “It is all right. Be at peace, you precious soul.” 

She awoke from a very sweet dream two hours later and returned to her absolutely mortified senses. She pulled up her jeans, scrambled to pick up her chemical kit and bolted out the door, feeling a confusing mixture of elation and mortal embarrassment. 

The next day Cardia found a beautiful emerald cabochon finely etched with Hermes symbol in the pocket of her jeans that she DEFINITELY didn’t remember picking up. She was afraid to test its age and authenticity. She is still horribly ashamed for pleasuring herself in Hermes laboratory, but if she could ever admit it, it was the most daring and thrilling moment of her life before she met Saint. 

 I sometimes wonder if she might have crushed a little on Fran as a teen- a gentle alchemy  professor who she trusted completely… but I haven’t gotten that from her yet. It was only Hermes that she wanted! (Though in her imagination he sometimes looked more like Saint. Especially in her dreams.)

She still carries the emerald in her purse to the present day. I want Noreen to get the truth out of her someday!

T: Toys. Once she is with Saint, he will be all she needs. Saint doesn’t have much use for devices, but he sometimes enjoys using pieces of fruit or other edible things to stimulate her. She was horrified at first! She doesn’t want to admit that she especially likes the way melon pieces feel… 

Before Saint, she had a small vibrator that she received as a gag yankee swap gift at her bookstore. She told her coworkers she threw it away, but secretly she kept it… She probably even named it. I haven’t gotten the name out of her yet. I expect it to be pretentious and Latin, though. 

V: Vocal: Cardia is usually very quiet, making only soft gasps, sighs and quiet moans. She doesn’t speak much until she’s close to coming and then just repeats Saint’s name over and over, rarely anything else. Saint absolutely cherishes the sound of her voice when she whispers his name that way. She sometimes cries when they make love. Often they both do. 

Sisi Barbicane: 

E: Experience: Very little. None of it good. Being a vampire among humans is very hard for Sisi. Most humans are either afraid of vampires or fetishize them. Sisi has a warm heart and can be overly trusting, but she is pretty shy when it comes to romantic relationships. She was seduced by a teammate as a teenager, but it turned out he was dared by his buddies to find out if it was true that having sex with a vampire would give him special powers. He dumped her pretty fast when he found out she was just a physically strong, vulnerable girl with fangs. He spread rumors that she was a whore and a fake vampire. She was terribly hurt and hasn’t been involved with anyone since. 

(That teammate left the team soon after. He suddenly decided to become a missionary despite no previous religious or altruistic inclination… and disappeared soon after. He’s currently on the missing persons list. One REALLY does NOT fuck with the children of the Lupin Gang.) 

F: Position: She’d love to have a lover strong enough for the piston. She likes being picked up and cuddled in general. She would be happy to do the same for them. She’s definitely strong enough to hold her lover in position! She doesn’t have a speck of dark kink in her, but she’s flexible and athletic and would be up for trying different positions, even exotic ones. Her lover really likes the cowgirl or any position they can watch her. They love her long gorgeous red hair and the sight of her pretty face… when they get more experienced, they’ll also enjoy 69. 

G: Goofy: When she’s happy in love, she can definitely be silly, at least sometimes. Sisi’s lover adores to make her laugh, and doesn’t mind if it is at their own expense, They’ll just do whatever it takes to make her smile. Her lover doesn’t have much of a filter or a capacity for lying, so  they often just come out and say embarrassing, perfectly unadorned things in bed as if they were NBD. It always makes Sisi laugh. But if Sisi is feeling sad, they let her cry on their shoulder and show her how much they love her with all the serious skill they can muster. 

W: Wildcard: The best way to win Sisi’s heart is to be kind and honest. She wants to trust people, but she’s been hurt, so she’s scared. She has a vulnerable heart. 

Despite her extraordinary physical strength and skills, she would love to be romanced and cherished like a normal human girl. Flowers, chocolates, romantic walks in beautiful gardens, swimming in the ocean, romantic cafes… more flowers… all of that.  She’d also love to have a lover who could share her passion for flowers, playing sports and flying, too. It all seems like an impossible dream to Sisi to find someone like that who also doesn’t mind that she’s a vampire. 

Carlotta Van Helsing: 

Y: Yearning: Carlotta has a robust sex drive. She’s second of the younger generation in terms of experience, and enjoys a good fling with a spirited and, above all, INDEPENDENT lover now and then. She HATES clinginess. She’s fine going alone for extended periods of time and just taking care of things herself. It is less trouble than a bad relationship. She isn’t currently in a serious relationship, but she’s got her eye on someone special. 

Z: How fast she falls asleep: It depends. If she is with an experienced lover who hit all her buttons, she falls asleep pretty fast. If she’s with someone who is nervous or shy and who she needs to guide, she tries to make sure to make them feel safe and cared for. She does enjoy teaching lovers sometimes.

#code: realize #code realize #code:reaize #code realize headcanons #code realize asks #code realize fanfic #quintessence au

[duskaris]

Characters in BoT

Characters who are important to at least one plot

Aeryn’s Friend Group:

Aeryn - Commander of the Blades of Elkai. Not a very good fighter but makes up for it with high charisma, tactical smarts, and strong negotiating skills.

Sofra - Aeryn’s wife and emotional heart of the group. Very smart and skilled in her own right but often feels overshadowed by the others in her group.

Mikel - Transformational Magi between human and eagle. Quiet and reserved, a little flighty, but always willing to try to lend a hand or a wing.

Wren - One of the best archers in the blades. Mother of Ivy and like a mother to Jay. She’s always willing to do the right thing no matter the consequences. Bold and not afraid to speak her mind.

Clarissa - Has the rank of Captain. Snobby and arrogant but very good at her job. An excellent musician and composer. Sofra’s best friend since they were in diapers.

Jack - The loudest member of the group. Super outgoing and enjoys teasing and pranking the others, especially Rowan. Loves to defy gender norms by crossdressing. Very good with a sword but not very good at leadership so has never been promoted.

Rowan - The only non-combatant in the group. Works as a biologist studying magic imbued artifacts as well as leading Jay’s case. Seems quiet until comfortable around you and then he will info dump about all the latest studies. FTM transgender but nobody knows other than his parents and his doctor.

Other Blades:

Ivy - Wren’s daughter. Sweet little thing who eventually follows her mother’s footsteps as a talented archer. Calls Jay her big brother.

Jay - Aeryn’s bodyguard and transformational Magi who shares his form with an Obski. Many people fear and belittle him because of it. Only a handful of people don’t show disdain towards his existence. He’s stoic in public and only shows the hurt when he’s alone.

Madeline - Jay’s friend and eventual girlfriend. Survived extreme abuse but is very traumatized and touch averse. Despite what she went through she tries her best to be optimistic, kind, and open-minded to everyone she meets.

Jayme - Another captain. Eventually leaves the Blades to become the new captain of the royal guard.

Lyra - Aeryn’s classmate. She is one of the Blades who goes on the Navy ship with Aeryn.

Orsen - Transformation Magi between human and bear. Stoic and solitary but respects the Blades for what they do and will take orders from Aeryn without complaint. Somehow close to Zahavi.

Zahavi - Transformation Magi between human and cat. Tends to wander off and is bad at following orders due to distractibility. Also a chatterbox. Somehow close to Orsen.

Chloe - Transformation Magi between human and chipmunk. Super hyper and energetic. Always willing to help in whatever way she can.

Beatrice - Transformation Magi between human and crow. As a fellow bird she looks up to Mikel as a mentor. Wants to go out and do stuff but is way too young to be allowed.

Elkenian Royalty:

Lucille - Crown Prince of Elkai. Well spoken and passionate about doing good by his people. Hates his father for being selfish and only working to line the pockets of himself and his friends.

Kiran - The younger Prince of Elkai. Too young to really know about anything that’s going on politically. Looks up to his older brother.

Jethred - Current King of Elkai. Selfish, greedy, and entirely self-serving.

Noreen - The Queen of Elkai. Kind and soft, the polar opposite of her husband. Trying to raise her sons to be better than their father.

Theodosia - Duchess of Nehvoz. No husband but has adopted many children. Very dignified and elegant as well as very intelligent.

Other:

Jessa - Aeryn’s sister. Tough and not afraid to get her hands dirty. Has mellowed out a bit since her teens but can and will beat you in a fist fight if she feels threatened. Cannot cook to save her life

Henri - Aeryn’s brother-in-law. Tries to be a tough family man but is actually a bit of a wimp. Fragile masculinity but somehow more wholesome than toxic? The cook in the family.

Cora - Aeryn’s neice. Fairly stereotypical little girl. Likes wearing dresses and having tea parties with her dolls.

Fabian - One of three Wizards based in Elkai. Grouchy and cold, doesn’t like people. Gets along okay with Aeryn, as all of their correspondence is through very formal letters.

#blades of treason #BoT #oc

[papermoonloveslucy]

LUCKY PARTNERS

September 25, 1944

“Lucky Partners” was a presentation of Lux Radio Theatre, broadcast on CBS Radio on September 25, 1944. 

It is based on a 1940 RKO film of the same name directed by Lewis Milestone which in turn was based on the 1935 French film Good Luck. Lucky Partners the movie starred Ronald Colman and Ginger Rogers in their only film together. The radio script was adapted by John Van Druten from the screenplay by Allen Scott.  

This is the second radio adaptation of the film. In April 1941 The Screen Guild Theater broadcast a 30 minute radio adaptation with Ginger Rogers reprising her film role. In this adaptation, the role is played by Rogers’ friend Lucille Ball. 

Synopsis ~ A man and a woman go partners on a winning sweepstakes ticket. In return for partnering, the man insists they go on a platonic honeymoon,  despite the woman’s engagement to another man.  When things get more than platonic, the man’s past is exposed and everyone ends up in court. 

Lux Radio Theatre (1935-55) was a radio anthology series that adapted Broadway plays during its first two seasons before it began adapting films (”Lux Presents Hollywood”). These hour-long radio programs were performed live before studio audiences in Los Angeles. The series became the most popular dramatic anthology series on radio, broadcast for more than 20 years and continued on television as the Lux Video Theatre through most of the 1950s. The primary sponsor of the show was Unilever through its Lux Soap brand. 

CAST

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

Don Ameche (David Grant aka Paul Knight Somerset) began screen acting in 1935 and was immensely popular with audiences. He had a career resurgence in 1985 when he won an Oscar for Cocoon at age 77. Ameche was supposed to be featured in 1970′s “Lucy Competes With Carol Burnett” (HL S2;E24), but he withdrew and the script was rewritten for Dean Martin, who also withdrew. The role was eventually played by Robert Alda. Consequently, this radio production is the only time Don Ameche acts opposite Lucille Ball. In 1973′s “Lucy’s Tenant” (HL S6;E7) Mary Jane says she remembers seeing a movie starring Mary Astor, Jack Oakie, and Don Ameche but the three stars were never in the same film.  

Arthur Q. Bryan appeared with Lucille Ball in Look Who’s Laughing (1941). He is best remembered as the original voice of Elmer Fudd in the Warner Brothers cartoons.He also was an accomplished radio actor appearing for ten seasons as Doc Gamble on “Fibber McGee and Molly.”  In 1952′s “Ricky Loses His Voice” (ILL S2;E9) he played Mr. Chambers, new owner of the Tropicana, a former vaudevillian looking to return to the stage.  

Verna Felton (Aunt Lucy) made her professional stage debut at the age of 10 as ‘Little Verna Felton,’ working extensively on stage. Felton was one of the most successful performers in radio, and soon went on to television. She played the persistent Mrs. Day on “The Jack Benny Show” (1955). She memorably played Lucy Ricardo’s maid, Mrs. Porter, as well as making one other appearance on “I Love Lucy.” She received two Emmy nominations for her role in the Desilu series “December Bride,” playing Hilda Crocker from 1955 to 1959 opposite Spring Byington, who, coincidentally, was in the original film of Lucky Partners playing the role she assays here, Aunt Lucy!

Carlton Kadell (Frederick ‘Freddy’ Victor Harper III) starred as “Sky King” for ABC radio. He also was heard in the “Tarzan” serials.

Leo Cleary was primarily known as a radio performer, but did two films in 1940 with Lucille Ball: You Can’t Fool Your Wife and Dance, Girl, Dance.

Norman Field began screen acting in 1945, just a few months after this radio program first aired. On radio, he was heard in hundreds of programs, including “Chandu the Magician,” “Mystery is My Hobby” and many installments of “Lux Radio Theatre.”

Noreen Gammill was a radio performer who voiced Catty the Elephant in Walt  Disney’s Dumbo. She was later on screen as a background player in “The Andy Griffith Show,” filmed at Desilu Studios. 

Leona LeDoux was a radio actor in the 1940s, specializing in children's voices for such shows as, "One Man's Family," "Blondie," and "Baby Snooks." Here, she is part of a live commercial for Lux. 

Eddie Marr was born on Valentine’s Day 1900 in Jersey City, New Jersey. In 1938 he was seen with Lucille Ball in The Affairs of Annabel.  Along with Lucille Ball, he was in the 1966 TV special “Bob Hope: 15 of My Leading Ladies" playing Joan Caulfield’s chauffeur. He was also with Lucy in “The Bob Hope Show: Bringing Back Vaudeville” in November 1970.

Charles Seel was a former vaudevillian and radio actor who acted in early silent films. Regularly on screen after 1937, he usually played small roles such as clerks, bartenders, and shopkeepers. From 1961 to 1974 Seel was a recurring character on TV’s “Gunsmoke”.

Harry Tyler did four films with Lucille Ball from 1937 to 1950. He appeared in more episodes of “Alfred Hitchcock Presents” than any other actor. 

John M. Kennedy (announcer) 

ACT ONE

The episode is introduced by producer Cecil B. DeMille, who asks the audience to help pick the play and stars for the show’s tenth anniversary by submitting a postcard. He tells a story about Adolph Menjou in London that acts as a message about Lux Soap. 

Our story unfolds in the Greenwich Village neighborhood of New York City with the casual meeting of David, a care-free artist (Ameche) and a girl delivering books (Ball). He wishes her “good luck” and they go their separate ways. The girl, Jean, goes home to tell her Aunt Lucy (Verna Felton) that after a man wished her good luck - she was given an expensive dress that was headed for the trash after a marital squabble.

Jean spies David on the street and rushes out to offer him a business proposition. She asks him to meet her at Nick and Nick’s, a neighborhood bar and grill. 

David gets a visit from Wendell, his lawyer and friend who begs him to come back to Chicago, despite his checkered past there. 

At Nick and Nick’s Jean buys the last sweepstakes ticket. She is feeling lucky because of the dress and feels David may be her good luck charm. Jean is hoping to win enough money to marry her sweetheart, an insurance salesman named Freddy.  David will go in on the ticket with Jean under the proviso that she let him pay for their honeymoon, which he calls “our honeymoon.” 

Angry about the “our honeymoon” insult, Jean introduces David to hot-head Freddy, her future husband, who hauls David into the back alley, presumably to avenge his sweetheart’s honor. Instead, however, they return laughing instead of bruised. David has convinced Jean that they will honeymoon as brother and sister and offers that Freddy can tag along.  Freddy holds on to the sweepstakes ticket for safekeeping. They have to figure out whether to wager it all on a horse or play it safe for a smaller cut of the winnings. David and Jean listen for the results of the race on the radio.  They do not win. Freddy calls and it reveals that he sold her half of the ticket for $6,000 before the race!  But he only sold her half, not David’s, who has lost it all.  Jean gives David half anyway and David insists on the full terms of the agreement: to take her on a platonic honeymoon. Jean agrees to the ‘experiment’.  

End of Act One.

A live commercial for Lux Soap consists of a letter from a consumer, Mrs. Willett, presented by Sally and Mrs. Kennedy.  

ACT TWO

DeMille introduces the second act. 

Jean and David are off on their ‘experimental honeymoon’ in a car David bought in her name. Jean wants to stop at a Western Union office to send a wire to Aunt Lucy and Freddy.  

They arrive at a hotel in Niagara Falls, honeymoon capital of the world. Checking in as brother and sister, they go to their separate hotel rooms. They have breakfast together. David has sent Jean flowers. The hotel has taken it upon themselves to move them to adjoining rooms!  An angry Freddy arrives to check up on his future wife. After finding no hint of misconduct, Freddy agrees to leave but is still not satisfied that everything is on the up-and-up. He checks in at a nearby hotel, asking for a 2am wake-up call.   

In the evening, David calls Jean from his bedroom. He asks her to meet him in the hotel lobby and to wear her ‘lucky dress’.  An older couple unknown to them  asks them to join them on the terrace garden. They lead them to a bridge and the old man asks David to carry her over the bridge and to kiss her. The older couple performed the same ritual 50 years earlier and, thinking Jean and David are a romantic couple, want them to have the same happiness.  

Rather than risk any further romance, Jean decides to go to bed.  At 2am, Freddy loudly knocks on what he thinks is David’s door, but Jean answers it.  They have swapped again so that Jean can have the room with the fireplace. Freddy uses a fire axe to get into David’s room, but he’s nowhere to be found. Freddy calls the front desk and is told David has checked out, but left a note for Jean.  

Speeding away from Niagara Falls, a policeman pulls David over, who is driving the car he put in Jean’s name.  They go off to find Jean to explain. End of Act Two. 

Pause for station identification. During the break DeMille announces that the National Safety Council’s Colonel Stillwell (in New York) is presenting Lever Brothers and the show with an award. [Archival recordings do not present Stillwell’s remarks, just DeMille’s.]

ACT THREE

DeMille catches us up that Freddy, David, and Jean are facing a judge in a small town outside Niagara Falls. David reveals that he is really named Paul Knight Somerset. They are put in jail till the judge can make some sense of things. 

Next morning, the case is tried. David’s true identity has the town abuzz. David’s lawyer and friend, Wendell is there to represent him, but is dismissed so that David / Paul can represent herself.   Aunt Lucy testifies that David gave her an expensive dress and bought the ticket. The hotel clerk testifies that David wanted adjoining rooms for illicit purposes. Freddy testifies that David’s newfound celebrity has changed his view of David.  Jean takes the stand and explains the ‘experiment’. She is cross-examined by David, addressing himself as “my client”.  The judge asks some questions that make David look like a scandalous womanizer.  

David cross-examines himself to clarify his true intentions and feelings for Jean. It turns out that some paintings he published in a book got him sued for libel and was put in jail on principal. 

The judge convicts Freddy of being a dope and destroying a hotel door with a fire axe.  

The judge acquits Jean for being naïve and too trusting. 

The judge is not happy with David’s record and conduct in court.  Jean objects to the judge’s comments. The spectators cheer Jean’s defense of David. 

The judge makes Jean and David admit that they are in love and throws the case out of court.

David and Jean are driving back to New York.  He proposes a new ‘experiment’ involving a gold ring and a local justice of the peace.  They are not headed to New York City after all, but to Niagara Falls!  End of Play. 

CURTAIN CALL 

A live commercial for lux involves a little girl and mother hanging laundry on the line. 

DeMille returns to talk to Lucille Ball and Don Ameche.

Lucille reveals that Don Ameche is forming his own motion picture company and making the story of Doctor Wassell starring Gary Cooper and Laraine Day. This turns out to be a disguised promotion for the 1944 film The Story of Dr. Wassell, based on the life of real-life Navy Officer, Corydon M. Wassell, directed by DeMille himself. 

DeMille announces next week’s show will star Walter Brennan, Jeanne Crain, and Charlotte Greenwood recreating their original screen roles in Home in Indiana, a film released in July 1944. The studio audibly audience gasps! 

DEMILLE: “Goodnight to you, from Holly-wood!”

The announcer wraps up by asking consumers to save waste fats and greases to help fight the war. He reminds listeners to send in their postcards suggesting stories and stars for the tenth anniversary broadcast.  

"Lucky Partners" was produced through cooperation with RKO, producers of Bride by Mistake. 

Don Ameche is mentioned as appearing in Greenwich Village, a 20th Century Fox film.

Lucille Ball appeared courtesy of MGM, producers of the Technicolor picture Kismet. Interestingly, Lucille Ball is not promoted as being in the MGM film Meet The People, which had premiered in New York City two weeks earlier and was still in release as of this broadcast.

TRIVIA

The story opens in Greenwich Village, a bastion of bohemian artists and romantics that thrived in the 1940s. It was the setting for My Sister Eileen, a 1938 book that inspired a 1940 play and 1942 film. It also was the setting of Don Ameche’s 1944 film. The above pulp novel was published in 1943. 

Acting as his own lawyer, David cross-examines himself in court, something Lucy Carmichael later did in a 1964 episode of “The Lucy Show.” 

Honeymoons and Niagara Falls have gone together for nearly two centuries. In a 1964 episode of “The Lucy Show,” Lucy’s daughter wants her mother to think she’s eloping so she leaves out a travel brochure for Niagara Falls! 

Sweepstakes were the pre-cursor to public lotteries. In the 1950s newspapers offered Lucky Buck contests, asking readers to compare serial numbers published in the newspaper with their own bills. This was the subject of “Bonus Bucks” (ILL S3;E21) in 1954, where like David and Jean, the Ricardos and Mertzes split the winnings - if they can just claim them in time!

In 1949, Lucille Ball desperately wanted to do Cecil B. DeMille’s The Greatest Show on Earth, but when she asked Columbia’s Harry Cohn to loan her out to MGM, he sadistically cast her in The Magic Carpet, thinking that it was such an awful script that Ball would refuse to do it, then he could suspend her, and refuse to loan her out. Instead, Lucille called his bluff and cheerfully accepted the film, knowing that it was a quickie that would be wrapped by the time The Greatest Show on Earth started filming. Fate intervened and Lucille got pregnant with her daughter Lucie and never got to make the film. It was her husband Desi Arnaz who went into business mode and told Lucy to “grab her $85,000 fee and run.” DeMille is quoted as saying,

“Congratulations Mr. Arnaz, You are the only man to ever fuck his wife, Cecil B. DeMille, Paramount Pictures, and Harry Cohn, all at the same time.”

#Lucky Partners #Lucille Ball #Don Ameche #Lux Radio Theatre #1944 #cecil b. Demille #Verna Felton #Greenwich Village #Niagara Falls #Arthur Q. Bryan #Carlton Kadell

[o-antiva]

Charity

Greagoir let him out of the tower once. While the templars stripped him, searched him, and re-dressed him in robes they brought for him, so that he wouldn't hide a pick-- like he had done last time-- Greagoir circled him and told him in nasal tones how he squandered his gifts. A Spirit Healer possessed rare talents. The power of life. Yet Anders turned his back on the Maker with his disobedience. A lazy student. Selfish. Petulant.

Anders had stood there naked but for the ring in his ear. He'd just laughed, hands on his hips, daring and insolent. He said: "And do tell me, Knight-Commander, how is it that my talent is held back when you never let me leave here? Am I to lavish the Maker's blessings on every paper-cut in the archives? Someone stubbing his toe? A bit of bad elbow-- and rubbing a little raw?"

A templar threw balled-up robes at his chest, but he preferred to stand nude and smile.

Enchanter Wynne came into the chamber and frowned at him, deeply unimpressed. "There is a woman in the village who needs our care. I'll deliver the baby, and you will assist."

"Are my hands to be chained the entire time?" He'd asked. "That will surely put her to ease."

The templars rowed them across, Anders in hobbles, and Wynne staring out across the lake. Rumor said she'd had a child once, that she'd barely held it before they ripped it from her. Looking back, Anders wondered how she found the strength to go on, and even more, to help other women in that way. But at the time all he thought of were his own problems. Karl sounded strange in his last letter. Surana had made a friend of the handsome and innocent new templar. And there were hushed reports of strange creatures seen on the surface, dark things, things that bubbled up from the Deep Roads below...

A young woman and a goat awaited them in the village. She was astride a buckskin stallion that pitched back and forth, stamping its hoof. A beautiful woman, fierce, with a mass of impossibly curly gold ringlets. She was dressed like a farmhand, like a man. The goat was a long-eared brown-and-red type, and it munched a stand of weeds whilst eyeing them sidelong. A young man in the colors of the bann came riding up, then, on a flecked gray horse; he must have been one of the bann's sons, or in the retinue, a dark-skinned fellow of mixed Rivain and Fereldan heritage.

"Noreen's still holding on-- we see a foot," the woman called to them. "Mage! Can you ride?"

Anders found himself bundled up on the woman's horse, and she spurred the stallion through a breakneck gallop and jump through all Honnleath. Anders thought he would surely die. Wynne showed much more horsemanship with the young Barris and the gray mare. At the end of it, horrified, especially with his ankles chained together, he was brought before a thatch-roofed cottage where a number of villagers clustered about in a muddy courtyard.

The goat trotted up without a care.

Mia hauled him down and set him to rights. "Your life flash before your eyes?" she'd said to him, and he'd given a laugh of false bravado. For a moment he'd thought he'd seen her somewhere, but a woman's scream took his attention.

Noreen had been in labor since the night before. The babe hadn't flipped in the womb, and it wanted to come out sideways if at all. Wynne glided into the scene with wisdom and compassion, and she'd spread out her calfskin tool roll and the contents of her basket. She bade Anders to boil water, and she'd asked nearly all others present to leave the little cottage.

The reality of the situation hit him full, and he felt the woman's terror, her pain. He had learned all the technicalities of childbirth, the physical process, the remedies. The cramping. The tearing. The entire constellation of agonizing consequences. He'd seen a few pregnancies in the tower-- one he feared now and again he might be responsible for-- but this was the first time he'd assisted a birth, to be there, to help her.

The midwife sponged the woman's head, looked up, and asked, "You'll do it, then?" And also, "Must he be here?"

Wynne had answered, gently, "Yes, I've done it a dozen times before," and also, "Young Frederick is my apprentice. He can be naughty, as you see, but he has a good heart, and he is the most talented healer we've had in ages."

Anders nearly knocked his head on the beams as he came back in to hear that. He'd hardly recalled a word of praise, but he knew she meant it. Wynne frustrated him-- kindly but aloof, with a tragic past, who had every reason to resent the control of the tower but never seemed to want a change for the better. Anders hadn't wanted his gifts. He'd only wanted to go home.

The enchanter cued him with a nod, and he went to Noreen's side, shuffling that way as best he could. It was more awkward given his height, but he had no care of that now. As soon as he laid his hand upon her head, the pain came away, and Noreen gasped with relief. Anders felt the spirits hovering around them, unseen, whispering about just beyond the veil. Lake Calenhad and its environs were old places, holy places, sacred to the wild people and their gods. The spirits here took animal form, when they manifested at all, and Anders had the sense of female creatures pressing in around them.

He had the impression of a cow, broad-faced, wet-nosed, a kindly mother from the ginger cattle native to this land.

Please help her, Anders thought.

The child couldn't be pushed out now. The time for that had gone. Wynne knew a way to help, a method the Tevinters named for one of their archons. Wynne told the woman what she wanted to do, and how it would help, and Noreen nodded through tears. Just do it. Be done with it. There was only one way now to go.

Wynne took the knife from her tool roll and heated the blade in her hand. Anders brushed sweat-damp hair off Noreen's face, talked softly to her, and let his healing flow through.

In minutes, Noreen was delivered of a girl, a child with a full head of black hair, squalling at the top of her lungs.

Anders thought of the ginger cow, her long thick neck bended down, her flat muzzle snuffled to the woman's hair. Thank you, he thought, eyes shut. Thank you for helping her.

Wynne and Anders left the woman a scar. A slight scar. Just enough for her body to remember. In the thatched-roof cottage, in the room with the bloody bed, Anders felt peace, a new purpose, wanting to do this and nothing else. The hobbles weighed now more than ever. What if he promised to stay here in the village? What if he didn't go? What if people brought their sick here, their wounded? Sometimes they brought their casualties to Kinloch, when their need was great, but so many died in the crossing. What would it hurt if he stayed here or in some village?

Later, in the rowboat, Anders broke the silence. "I want to be a healer," he said. "I want to stay in a village."

Weary, Wynne had only looked at him and said, "Frederick... "

"I promise to stay there. They can rotate the templars. Fresh air-- a village." He reached across and laid a hand on her hand. "Wynne. There was a mage living in that village, Wilhelm. Why can he stay there, with his wife?"

"Wilhelm fought in the war with Orlais. He has a dispensation from the king."

"So he can tinker with his artifacts. Fuck about with his little projects. For what use? Wynne, I could heal those people! Anyone they brought. No cost. I felt the spirits there, wanting to help... "

Wynne only sighed, and Anders pressed, desperate now: "It's not fair he was favorite of the king. Is there a law, or isn't there? The Chantry tells us the Maker wants us shut up in our towers, but is the word of the king greater than that of God?"

When she said nothing in the few seconds he allotted her, Anders rushed out, "They even say there's a mage in Lothering, a healer, a runaway from the Marches. Not to mention what else they say of him! Is he above the law then also? Why?"

"I've heard of Malcolm," Wynne told him. "He has a Grey Warden dispensation, and the local templars watch him. I know that you're upset, but in time, you'll come to understand... "

He never would. He never would see her way. After everything had happened, he was told she was killed in the broken circle, throwing her body to shield the apprentices. But he'd seen her alive, somehow, in Amaranthine, a weird sheen to her eyes, but no other clue. She met him kindly, cordially, as he stood there in his new blue uniform. He healed the injured in Amaranthine then, tended their sick.

"Better than the Deep Roads," he'd told Justice, when they sat together under the spreading branches of an oak. "I don't know why we even bother. Blight's done with."

And Justice intoned, in that deep hollow voice from the chest, "It is your duty, so you must do it."

"It is your duty, so you must do it," Anders mocked in a tinny voice. A fly landed on Anders' forehead. He brushed it away with the hand that held the forceps. "Rubbish."

He was suturing Kristoff's arm back to Kristoff's shoulder. The meat was falling off the bone these days, so it fit wrong, ball-and-socket. "That's your problem, Justice," he said. "You've no imagination."

"The Wardens are sworn to defend against the Blight," the spirit told him in words that carried. They sounded made of bronze, deep, powerful. The eyes were glazed over, like three-day fish, but there was a light kindled beneath them, weird and unreal.

"The Blight which is over, you know, by the way." Anders made his stitches small and neat. His healing magic had no power over flesh that was dead, so he made do as he could, to keep his friend together. "There will always be more darkspawn."

Justice said nothing.

"Does this hurt you?" Anders peered over his shoulder.

No answer, and Anders told him, "I just want to help. I know-- I know I'm a shit, like Nathaniel says. But I just. Fuck. I'm always doing what other people want me to. Go here, do this. The tower, and now Tabris. I want to be my own man. No one telling me anything."

Justice moved the arm of the body he inhabited. There wasn't so great a range of motion. He was declining in every way. "This will do," he said.

Anders waved away the flies, and set aside his suture kit. Sighing, he laid a hand on the shoulder, felt the give beneath his hand. "If I ran way," he said quietly. "You'd say nothing, wouldn't you? I can twiddle my thumbs here.. or I could do real good elsewhere. I'd travel, heal people."

The gray head turned toward him, the eyes staring dully at him from their deep sockets, the flesh drawn tight around them. "This is your duty."

"It's what I was given to do," Anders replied.

After the longest time, staring at each other, the flies around them, Anders said, softly, "You could come with me."

#anders dragon age #teamblueandangry #anders week 2017

[thechasefiles]

The Chase Files Daily Newscap 5/13/2019

Good MORNING  #realdreamchasers! Here is The Chase Files Daily News Cap for Monday 13th May 2019. Remember you can read full articles for FREE via Barbados Today (BT) or Barbados Government Information Services (BGIS) OR by purchasing by purchasing a Daily Nation Newspaper (DN).

COUNTRY MOURNS GIANT OF A MAN – Nation builder and media titan Harold Fitzherbert Hoyte died yesterday morning, leaving the country – from the Prime Minister to regular Barbadians – mourning his passing. He was 77. Hoyte, the doyen of journalism in Barbados and across the region, and one of the founders of the Nation Publishing Co. Limited, died at 11:20 a.m. at his home in St Thomas, with his wife Noreen and sister Sheila Brewster at his side. He served as this newspaper’s first Editor-in-Chief and held various positions, including President and Editor Emeritus, the latter until his death. He was also chairman of the board of Nation Publishing and a director of One Caribbean Media (OCM), the parent company of The Nation Group. Hoyte had been ailing after suffering an aneurysm while on holiday in Florida at the end of 2017. Ten days ago, in honour of his sterling contribution to journalism in Barbados and the building of one of the most successful black companies in the country, Nation House on Fontabelle, St Michael – which officially opened on September 23, 1977 – was renamed the Harold Hoyte & Fred Gollop Media Complex. As news spread of Hoyte’s passing, tributes from across Barbados, the region and from the diaspora were pouring in, recognising his outstanding work in journalism. Media practitioners, former NATION staff, as well as members of the public also posted their own tributes to a “giant of a man”. (DN)

PM: I'VE LOST A DEAR A FRIEND – The following a statement from Prime Minister Mia Amor Mottley, QC, MP on the passing of Nation builder and founder, Harold Hoyte earlier today. Barbados has lost one of its great patriots and I have lost a dear friend.  It was with a most profound sense of personal sadness that I learnt today of the passing of my dear friend and a true builder of Barbados, Harold Fitzherbert Hoyte at the age of 78. While Harold had been ailing for some time and the nature and extent of his medical situation served as fair notice that his end might be near, that knowledge has not been nearly enough to blunt the impact of the news.  The country has lost a prized son who has contributed more than his fair share to the development of post-Independence Barbados. It would be impossible to separate the name Harold Hoyte from the path of journalism in Barbados and the Caribbean over the past 60 years.  Equally, it would be impossible to separate him for the story of success of the enterprise known as the Nation Newspaper.  There is no Barbadian who would fail to recognise the critical role that the Nation Newspaper has played in contribution to the safeguarding of Barbados' stability since Independence. In fact, the Nation Newspaper, and by extension the Nation Publishing Company, with Harold Hoyte as its leader, represents one of the most potent symbols and examples of business success by Barbadians in our post Independence history. Harold understood Barbados and Barbadians. We saw the evidence in his editorial judgments and his professional and indeed political commentary. It was clear to all that he never lost contact with the pulse of the people. That, throughout his career remained a defining feature of Harold Hoyte. He loved his country and was never afraid to speak truth to power in its fervent defence. I can tell you that politicians on all sides of the political divide would think twice before they dared to ignore him because they knew that if they did so it was at their own peril - for he was an astute judge of Barbadians, particular on those matters he so fondly referred to as “bread and butter issues”. In my eyes, Harold Hoyte was more than worthy to hold any and all offices in this land. He volunteered his time and intellect in ways too numerous to count, but for me one of his seminal contributions was his service on the Commission on Law and Order, established during my tenure as Attorney General. At a very personal level, my friendship with Harold became even closer in the last ten or so years where he was a pillar of strength for me and where I knew I could rely on both those virtues of which I just spoke, but also his utter discretion and wise counsel. I shall miss him as will many Barbadians for his political and editorial commentary. But above all, I shall miss him as a warm, generous and committed human being. To his wife Noreen, his children Tracy and Bobby and the rest of Harold's family I extend deepest sympathies and on behalf of a grateful nation and people I extend to them the offer of an official funeral as a small but initial token of appreciation for his immense contribution to this country.  (DN)

DLP: HOYTE CHANGED POLITICAL DISCOURSE IN BARBADOS - The Democratic Labour Party (DLP) joined with those remembering the late Harold Hoyte, Editor Emeritus of The Nation Publishing Co. Ltd. Hoyte passed away earlier today, and in a statement, the DLP said his commissioning of polls forever changed “the tenor of political discourse in Barbados”. The full statement follows: It is with profound sadness and deep regret that the Democratic Labour Party notes the passing of Harold Hoyte, co-founder and Editor Emeritus of the Nation Publishing Company Ltd. Even though we were aware that he was not in the best of health in recent times, his passing has still come as unwelcome news. Harold was an icon of Caribbean journalism, an entrepreneur who staked everything he owned on a fledgling tabloid that would become Barbados’ leading newspaper and later the precursor to the regional media giant known today as One Caribbean Ltd. His visionary leadership initiated the sponsorship and publication of political polls, something previously unheard of in Barbadian media, which in itself would forever change the tenor of political discourse in Barbados. Following his sojourn in journalism, he authored a series of books chronicling the life and times of scores of local politicians as well as reviews of the roles of others; texts that are being used and will continue to be reference points for local political scholars and the merely curious. His passing will unquestionably create a void in the regional journalism and political arena. His contribution cannot be duplicated. The Democratic Labour Party would like to take this opportunity to offer our sincerest condolences to his wife, his children, siblings and close friends. May his soul rest in peace. (DN)

BBA: HOYTE’S CONTRIBUTION TO JOURNALISM WAS WORLD CLASS – For a man who always had an interest in becoming the ultimate journalist, Harold Hoyte’s name will forever be etched indelibly on the pages of media history in Barbados. His vision for the Nation Newspaper is adequately chronicled and his first Editor Carl Moore reminds us of the precision and professionalism the profession demonstrated at the time it was established in 1973. Harold Hoyte was the archetypal journalist. He was curious about everything; astute in his observations as evidenced in his writings; amiable and affable in dealing with people, with the most infectious laugh that brought a smile to the most wooden of faces. His advice to young journalists remains as relevant today as it was when he first gave it: "If you do not bring a sense of social conscience to the job, then you’re not going to carry it out in the way that you should, because you will not be able to appreciate the role that the media has to play". Perhaps our best tribute to this eminent journalist, who often shared his political analysis in the broadcast media during elections, is to raise the bar in the quality of our local journalism. His death is a timely reminder of what world class journalism looks like. It behoves us all to revisit the tenets of the Fourth Estate and honour this noble profession. Let us all place less emphasis on being a star and more on the substance of the story; less on fake news and more on facts; less on personality and more on principle. Harold Hoyte was an exemplar for the media profession. We honour his work and salute his legacy. The Barbados Broadcasting Authority joins the media fraternity in sending condolences to his wife and children as well as his immediate family and extended media family. May he rest in peace. (DN)

ST. MARY’S RECTOR ‘WILL BE MISSED’ – While rector of St Mary’s Anglican Church Reverend Jilian Crawford is remaining mum on her imminent transfer, some of her parishioners are not. In fact, not only is Crawford going to be missed, one member of the congregation went as far as to say she was the best thing to have ever happened to that church. “She is friendly and hard-working; she has done work with the Sunday school no other priest here has ever done. I will miss her – this had me crying all the time. She is the best priest we ever had,” said Vernise Codrington. Crawford is scheduled to be reassigned after May 26 to St Peter Parish Church, where she will be assistant rector. Reports indicate Crawford agreed to move on although last year it was also reported there was tension between Crawford and the Church Council over her refusal to move into the vicarage in Rock Dundo, St Michael, after the church spent $50 000 in renovations and had been paying $2 300 a month on a rental house for her in the meantime. (DN)

MEDIATOR CALLED IN – Antigua’s labour commissioner has been asked to mediate the matter between sacked West Indies selectors Courtney Browne and Eldine Baptiste and their former employers. Browne and Baptiste are claiming damages from Cricket West Indies (CWI)  for unfair dismissal after being axed when the new Ricky Skerritt administration took office in March. Baptiste and Browne, the former chairman of selectors, were served termination letters on April 10. However, their attorneys Thomas, John & Co. sent correspondence to CWI chief executive officer Johnny Grave stating that their clients were unfairly dismissed and were demanding compensation for loss of earnings, future earnings and gratuity. However, CWI hasn’t responded favourably and subsequently, the attorneys have sent correspondence to Antigua’s labour commissioner to mediate in the matter. CWI matters of this nature fall under the labour code of Antigua and Barbuda. In a letter obtained by NATION SPORT, the legal representatives for Browne and Baptiste stated: “The said termination letters of April 10, 2019, make reference to a Task Force established to review the selection system at all levels and that this . . . committee will be chaired by vice president Dr Kishone Shallow and is expected to present recommendations to the board at its next meeting in June 2019.   (DN)

SPECIAL DAY FOR SPECIAL LADIES – Mothers were shown just how special they are yesterday. Many were treated like royalty by children and spouses at a number of dining spots across the island. At the Savannah Beach Hotel in Hastings, Christ Church, events manager Dionne Vaughan said they usually got a big turnout on Mother’s Day and yesterday was no different. “Today [yesterday] we booked 180 guests and it’s always a big celebration here on Mother’s Day,” she said. “It’s not only about biological mothers but people who also really play a big role in young people’s lives.” The buffet-styled luncheon also saw guests being entertained by saxophonist Mylon Clarke. At Ocean Two resort in St Lawrence Gap, also in Christ Church, mothers were greeted with freshly mixed cocktails before dining. Assistant front desk manager Katrina Cumberbatch explained that after lunch, the mums were treated to a tour of the resort that included a visit on the roof deck. The restaurant catered for 100 people, including in-house guests. Patrons also had the opportunity to win prizes, such as a day pass for two at the hotel and a day at the spa. Some of the highlights on the menu were the eight-hour, slow-baked pork leg with apple sauce, grilled Mahi with lemon caper butter sauce, and penne pasta. There was also a special Mother’s Day buffet breakfast at the hotel which catered for 60. A large Mother’s Day cake was shared among the ladies as well. Among those dining were the Inniss and Brathwaite families. Lois Inniss said her family had been celebrating Mother’s Day together for more than 20 years. She added they cherished special occasions to bond and catch up with each other. Members of her family included former deputy chief educational officer Thelma Brathwaite, former principal of Eden Lodge Primary School Samuel Brathwaite, past principal of Sharon Primary Ruth Trotman and retired journalist at the Barbados Advocate, Heather Greenidge.  (DN)

For daily or breaking news reports follow us on Instagram, Tumblr, Twitter & Facebook. That’s all for today folks. There are 232 days left in the year. Shalom! #thechasefilesdailynewscap #thechasefiles# dailynewscapsbythechasefiles

[purpleswans1]

Thoughts of a Concerned Stepfather

Here’s a self-indulgent character study I wrote for the ATLA fandom a couple of weeks ago to help me get back into the writing biz. Note: contains spoilers for “The Search”

See also on FF and AO3

Noreen thought he was dreaming when he saw Ursa on that stage. It was, after all, a scene straight from his dreams. The light of the rising sun highlighted her hair, her face was filled with the despair from the life she was forced into, and she was standing in the middle of the stage waiting for him.

It wasn't until she got up to leave that he realized it was real.

Upon realizing that yes, this was real, and yes, that was his Ursa crying on the stage, he did the only comforting thing a stranger could offer and bought her breakfast.

Speaking with her again after all these years was better than anything he could imagine. He was so happy when he was finally able to reveal himself to her, and the tears of relief she shed broke his heart. She told him why and how she came back, and he told her how she could be free, safe, and with him again.

But over a decade apart had taken their toll on her, and although she was still the headstrong actress he'd fallen for, she had other people she cared for now: her children.

While they stayed in Forgetful Valley, Ursa told Noreen all about the kids. Zuko, her pride and joy, a kind boy who never stopped trying even when it was hard and would feed the turtleducks whenever time allowed. Azula, a bright and talented perfectionist who loved to laugh and cartwheel with her friends.

A vicious, jealous part of Noreen wanted to hate the children. They had Ursa's love and adoration, and were the children of that tyrant Ozai. They were still part of Ursa though, and for that he knew he should try to understand.

When the Mother of Faces finally appeared, he could tell that Ursa was still on the fence about staying with him. When the spirit gave her an option that would free her from the guilt, Noreen was filled with relief. Now, he would be able to have Ursa all to himself, with no lingering connections to her life with Ozai.

It wasn't until much later, when he held his daughter Kiyi for the first time, that he realized just how cruel and selfish it was to interfere in the connection between a parent and child.

Two years after Noriko had come into existence, Noreen heard some interesting gossip from the capital.

Noreen was constantly on the lookout for news about the royal family. He had to be ready in case someone came asking about Ursa. Since Noriko had lost her memories she wouldn't pay attention or know to be concerned, and it fell on Noreen's shoulders to watch out for any dangers to their little paradise.

Although the news wasn't threatening, it was still worrying. Zuko - the little boy Ursa doted on - had refused to fight in an Agni Kai against his own father, and had been injured and banished as a result. The left side of his face was badly burnt; likely to result in a permanent scar. His only hope of returning home was to capture an old legend nobody had seen in a hundred years.

Watching Noriko nurse their newborn, Noreen was glad that she didn't remember her firstborn. It would break her heart.

Three years later, wanted posters for Prince Zuko were posted all around the Fire Nation. It was rumored that Princess Azula was personally leading the hunt for her brother.

Noreen caught Noriko looking at the poster once. She had that sad, far-off look in her eyes that she sometimes got. When he asked her about it, she said that she felt sorry for the Prince for some reason.

It seems the Mother of Faces couldn't completely sever her ties to her children.

A few months later, a talented little girl who liked to cartwheel conquered the city of Ba Sing Se and won the war against the Earth Kingdom. In addition, a kind boy who liked to feed turtleducks killed the Avatar and was being honored as the rightful crown prince of their nation.

Idly, Noreen wondered whether these kids had been destined to grow up and become that, or if being separated from their mother had changed them.

A couple of months passed, and news reached Hira'a that the Avatar was still alive and Prince Zuko had turned traitor. Noreen wasn't really sure what to make of this, and distracted himself with making sure this year's production of Love Among Dragons went off without a hitch. Well, at least as smoothly as any stage production could be.

Fire Lord Ozai had been deposed. He'd lost a battle with the Avatar and had lost his bending as a result. Noreen was secretly happy to hear this; that tyrant finally got what was coming to him.

Zuko had become the new Fire Lord and had decided to end the hundred years war. Noreen had to admit this was a good thing; the war had stolen almost all of the nation's resources and forced domestic concerns to fall to the wayside.

One of Fire Lord Zuko's first orders, though, was to send out search parties for his mother. Noreen had hoped that Ursa's children had forgotten about her or simply decided that they didn't care, but it seemed that it wasn't the case.

Noreen embraced his wife and child, and started counting down the days until it all fell apart.

A little over a year later, the troupe was putting on his favorite play again when he noticed some strangers in the audience. It wasn't uncommon for people outside the town to come in especially to see a play, but these strangers were particularly unusual.

The first one he noticed was the bald boy with a blue stripe on his head. He was wearing a headband, but Noreen had heard enough about Avatar Aang to guess that was to cover his Airbender tattoos. He was accompanied by a boy and a girl who, by their complexion, were clearly not Fire Nation natives. There was another girl with them whose attitude was worrying, but it was the other boy that Noreen really noticed.

One look at the scarred face of the Fire Lord, and Noreen knew that the day he'd always feared had come.

Noreen was a little nervous bringing the Fire Lord and his friends into his home, but it was the only polite way to get some privacy and give them enough information to leave. He must have hid his anxiety well though, since nobody picked up on it.

Watching Kiyi interact with her half-siblings was... interesting. She has always enjoyed getting to know new people, and these guests were no exemption. Azula didn't look like she had much experience with kids (or interacting nicely with people in general) but Zuko gave Kiyi his attention and acted as a buffer between the two girls.

It made Noreen feel a little guilty for not being totally honest.

Noreen had seen them go into Forgetful Valley, and with the Avatar he knew it was only a matter of time until they found the Mother of Faces. As such, he wasn't particularly surprised to see the Fire Lord at his doorstep again.

He knew that Zuko was probably here to break up his little family, but when he saw how happy Kiyi was Noreen invited him to dinner.

The questions the Fire Lord asked were a little concerning. Why was the idea of a family dinner every night so alien? He then asked Noriko if she was happy, and when he heard her answer, he smiled.

Then, the Fire Lord stood up to leave.

What? Why wasn't he trying to take Noriko away? Was he really content with the knowledge that his mother was happy?

He was Ozai's son. He was the most powerful man in the fire nation. He could easily burn down the entire town, and he had powerful friends who could do worse.

But...

But he was also Ursa's child. He was the boy who fed turtleducks and fought even when it was hard and was the apple of his Mother's eye.

Noreen thought back to everything he'd heard about Zuko over the years - how Ozai had always told him he was worthless, how Ursa had been required to sacrifice herself for his life, how his own father had scarred and banished him, how his own nation had seen his as a traitor - and realized that he had suffered just as much as Ursa had under Azulon and Ozai's cruelty.

Deep down, Fire Lord Zuko was just a kid who'd lost his mother and been through hell, and managed to overcome it all.

He deserved to have his mother back.

"Go ahead, young man. Do what you came to do. Tell her you haven't forgotten who you are."

#Avatar The Last Airbender #atla #zuko #ursa #azula #myfanfic