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williowdrake · 1 year

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March 5 2018

Curse of Oak Island

“There is an island off the coast of Nova Scotia, Canada where Marty and Rick Lagina and the rest of the Oak Island team (attempt to an undertake a three hundred year old mystery). Oak Island is said to be the hiding place of a mysterious buried treasure. An ominous legend says that seven people must die in pursuit of the treasure before Oak Island will reveal her secrets. So far, (the official) the body count stands at six. (History Channel, 2018)” Among these deaths is a lasting mystery that brings families closer together, that shares theories and information in unlikely forms, which creates a tight knit community of believers and adventurers that spreads worldwide pulling at our heartstrings every step of the way.

To begin, one must understand the backstory of this little wooded island starting back from 1795. In 1795, a teenage boy was wandering around on Oak Island when he suddenly stood in front of an oak tree. Below the tree was a natural depression, to which he believed was made to be a pulley system. His name was Daniel McGinnis. Several days later Daniel, John Smith, and Anthony Vaughan, -all friends at the time-, began to dig. At ten, twenty, thirty, and every ten foot intervals all they found were logs. Knowing that they could not continue digging they returned home, pledging to return to the site. They did return after several years, back in 1803 with the help of the Onslow Company (who were made of three people whose main reason was to find the mystery). The party began to dig, at forty feet charcoal was discovered, at fifty feet a layer of putty, and at sixty feet a layer of coconut fiber was found. At ninety feet, a stone slab was found which had strange markings engraved on it. They continued digging at which time water began to fill the pit, by the next day the pit had filled with water up to the thirty-three foot line. Trying to remove the water did not help fore the water keep coming into the pit. The next year another hole was dug adjacent to the Money Pit, which went down to one hundred feet until it too began to fill with water.

The mystery was abandoned for forty-five years, until another company began the search. That company was the Truro. The Company dug until eighty-six feet at which time they began to be flooded. They decided to try another approach; that approach was to use drilling core samples. At ninety- eight feet, the Company went through a spruce platform, then four inches of oak and twenty- two inches of “metal in pieces”. They later went through eight inches of oak, another twenty-two inches of metal, four layers of oak, a layer of spruce, and what looked like to be coconut husk. There was one account that claimed that there were three gold chain links but have since disappeared. In 1850, the Truro Company discovered that the beach was man-made because they had dug a hole and tried to prevent it from flooding, to which lead to the discovery that the water was coming from the beach.

In 1861, another attempt of uncovering this mystery began with the Oak Island Association where they cleared the money pit to eighty-eight feet where they made a new hole to about one hundred twenty feet where it was later abandoned. A second shaft was made down to one hundred and eighteen feet but this was also overflowed with water. There were people in the shaft that were trying to figure out why the shafts were filling with water, they managed to get out before the shaft collapsed. The money pit dropped fifteen feet and anything that was in the money pit has become more difficult to get it. When the floor of the money pit collapsed the men were able to find the “bottom of a yellow dish, a piece of Juniper worked at either end of the wood, an oak timber, and a spruce slab scarred by the hole left by a drilling auger.” In Fall of that year, while trying to drain the tunnel a boiler exploded killing one person and harming several others.

In 1893, Frederick Blair and S.C. Frasier incorporated the Oak Island Treasure Company in the State of Maine, under a thirty thousand dollar lease that allowed them to dig on Oak Island for three years. In March 26 1897, tragedy once again struck on Oak Island when the Oak Island Treasure Company was pulling up a man named Maynard Kaiser from the money pit shaft when the rope from slipped and he fell to his death. In 1897, a parchment was found with scrawled letters either being “VI” or “WI”.

On July 16 1965, Robert Restall begins a new shaft but on August 17 of that year he dies when he falls into the shaft from looking above. His son, Bobby Restall tries to aid him but he too dies. Karl Graeser and Cyril Hiltz others workers also tries to aid in the help but loses consciousness and falls. Leonard Kaizer falls in as well but is saved by a visiting firefighter Captain Edward White. The reason why they lost consciousness is either because of the vile odor from the water or carbon monoxide from the gas pump. On October 16 1965, the causeway is made allowing people to move freely to and from the island. The causeway also allows heavier and bigger equipment to get on the island. In 1971, Borehole 10X was widened to twenty-seven inch in diameter casing recovering pieces of chain, metal fragments, cement chucks, and pieces of wire.

In 1981, Fred Nolan finds boulders that make a latin cross and “[a]t the intersection of the lines of the cross is an unusual stone resembling a human head.” In August 1995, “...a memorial service is held in honor of the men who died on the island. A monument and bronze plaque are unveiled.” Several items have been brought to life, some found and others shared from families. Several coins have been found, two different types of human bone, ship spikes, a hinge from a chest, metal, and a skeleton key. They were show a cross from the Mcginnis sisters who were related to Daniel Mcginnis, chest and a key from a relative from a pirate, and several maps of contradictory information.

There have been several people who have died trying to solve the mystery. Most of them are heartbreaking. The producer died under unusual circumstances, on November 19 2014 and he was thirty-one. Fred Nolan died on June 4 2016, due to a short illness and he was eighty-eight. Drake Tester died at the age of sixteen on March 26 2017 from a seizure disorder. One of the Mcginnis sisters, Joyce Mcginnis dies of cancer. Each death reminds us that at the end of the day it is not what they find but that whatever they find (or what they do not find) that they find it together,- as a family.

Works Cited

http://www.activemind.com/Mysterious/topics/oakisland/story.html

https://www.oakislandmoneypit.com/#story

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oak_Island

https://www.oakislandcompendium.ca/blockhouse-blog/gold-legends-and-old-maps-the-story-of-an-oak-island-familys-treasure

https://www.mysteriesofcanada.com/nova-scotia/the-curse-of-oak-island-season-4-finale-blood-is-thicker/

http://www.criticalenquiry.org/oakisland/OI_chapter3.shtml

http://worldtimeline.info/oakisland/

http://www.eternallifestyle.com/living/two-brothers-cracked-220-year-old-oak-island-mystery/

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archiethinking · 1 year

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nobody told me theres four (4!!!) entire oak island shows

curse of oak island

beyond oak island (but still kinda oak island)

drilling down (behind the scenes)

digging deeper (extended cuts)

...

why

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mega-aulover · 3 years

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Bobby Dazzler

only reblog if you know what this is

#oak island #curse of oak island #drilling down #Bobby Dazzler #love this

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blissfulparker · 3 years

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Pointing The Gun→ Bodyguard!Tom

Pairings: bodyguard!tom x royal!reader

Warnings; mentions of guns, mentions of being shot, isolation, smut

Summary; the daughter of one of London’s most royal families always has a gun pointed at her, Freedom restricted and never having one true friend or love in her life. Although one bodyguard, one safehouse makes everything change.

Wc: 6kish??

A/n; This has been sitting in my drafts for months but and I had a hard time wrapping it up but I finally figured it out(somewhat) Anyways, bodyguard!Tom is one of my fav AUs so I hope you guys enjoy

Staring out the window of the large office you had sat in waited in was an all too familiar feeling.

The tea served in front of you grew cold as it had now been an hour since you received it from the front desk assistant. You envied her, The women who only worked in the front of the building, an assistant probably not even earning more than 15 an hour, you envied.

She didn’t have to worry about her life on the line every second of the day. She didn’t have to worry about if her family was dead or alive. There wasn’t a red dot pointed at her chest nearly every second as a price tag held the hunt for her high.

Even if it wasn’t the most perfect life the front desk office assistant lived, the idea of going home to an animal or a lover, heating up leftovers and going to sleep peacefully was an action you wished you had.

The two men talked outside. One being your father, the other being a new possible bodyguard for you. The last one wasn’t the best, he didn’t get To know you that well and he was more of a robot than a human as he stood tall by your side, talked when needed but shut up the other half.

He quit to go work for some celebrity who’s name you never got. You only hoped she would hear him speak more than two words as you’re almost positive that the only words he ever spoke to you were ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ as he left.

Your heart didn’t break though over that bodyguard that left you. your heart broke as your youth was stolen from you and in the next 48 hours you will be sent off on a private jet to a safehouse. A safehouse with some random new bodyguard promising to keep you safe until whatever threat was on you this time was cleared.

“She will be ecstatic to work with you.” You hear your fathers voice on the other side of the wall. Working was a poor term, ecstatic was even poorer.

“Thank you.” And there you listened as the poor boy signed away his life as he didn’t know what he was getting himself into. Thinking he’s only shaking hands with one of London’s most important family heirs to royalty and thinking he gets to have a getaway with the princess, he'll be lucky to even be alive in the next two weeks.

“(Y/n),” your father opened the door. Besides him stood a broad frame, a boy who looked to be around your age, you prayed for him even more.

A frown forms on your face when you realize his blood will be on your hands. His family will hate you and blame you for the loss of their boy.

He wore a tight black shirt that showed how strong he was, probably to show off that he is capable of helping the damsel in distress. Wears an expensive watch around his wrist, an older one, looks to be a family heirloom. Along with a ring on his finger, his fingers and hands look as if they’ve been broken before. You can tell he’s been in a position of a bodyguard before, the way he stands and holds himself. You could see him with a A-list celebrity but none that can harm him. Maybe a famous model who thinks she needs protection but she only needs to be protected from how many shots at the club she takes. Or maybe he’s worked for some actress who thinks she’s worthy but it’s just average. All of those things were Making his past jobs easy.

He thinks he knows what he’s doing, you tell yourself, what an idiot.

“Meet your new bodyguard, Mr. Thomas Holland.” Your father introduced and you only let your tired eyes glance over to the innocent man.

“You don’t have to call me that, Tom is alright.” He doesn’t reach out his hand. You mentally furrow your brows as the man always reaches out his hand to kiss yours as if this was the 17th century and princesses were the most respected people in the world. You could go as far to say that the office assistant was more respected than you.

You don’t say anything, you only look at him when he walked in but then turn your attention back to the city that rushed outside. Wishing you were one of the people running down the street late to work. Wishing you were normal.

“She’s a little distressed.” He mumbled words to Tom and then went into explaining the next 48 hours. The next 48 hours where you would be away from London and most likely on a remote island with only a radio to call back to land.

You knew the long painful drill all too easily. A new safehouse, a new start, a new everything you keep you safe.

Before you knew it the two of you were being walked out of the room. Pushed into a car and driven to a nearby airport where the two of you would start a new life for two weeks.

A new life where Tom would get himself killed.

The first night spent together was long, the two of you found yourself on an island, there were people, locals that didn’t speak English but you would most likely never see them again.

Tom led you into the house. You had to admit, maybe if you weren’t so caught up with the pain of thinking of the way you could die or the way your new and shiny bodyguard could possibly die, you thought he was attractive. He had a large frame, clearly fit. He had a sharpen jaw and deep brown eyes, curly chocolate hair and when his skin brushed against you it was soft, soft and he smelt of cedarwood and oak. A deep forest scent and soft skin, his teeth were white and straight and his lips...his lips you already knew tasted of the mint chapstick he had applied numerous times during the plane.

He held your bags for you even though you tried to hold them yourself. Even at one point protesting that if anything did happen, his hands were full.

He was a gentleman through and through as he helped you with most things already. He was more of a comfort than a bodyguard. He made dinner for you and reminded you that he was just down the hall. The thing you liked was that he cared and didn’t push. He didn’t try and push you into confessing things or sharing your life story—as some bodyguards did.

He also wasn’t too quiet, he offered you his care beyond just his strength and guns. He reminded you he was here, asked if you needed anything wherever you guys were, and had a small spark in his eyes that showed he cared.

“Good morning.” His words are sweet. You felt awful as he was kind to you and you were cold to him. “I made some coffee already.” He told you and you smiled at him.

“Thank you.” You mumbled. If he was going to be your bodyguard, alone in your safehouse for the next two weeks, you needed to get to know him. You knew the cold distant thing didn’t work, for it never did.

“I’m sorry.” You mentally cursed yourself as those were the first words that came out of your mouth. You hadn’t said much but the first thing that did come out was that.

“Why would you be sorry?” He looks over. On the couch, he has the news playing. Local news in a different language, they talk about farmers markets, local crimes, sob stories that you hate hearing about because it makes you sound spoiled.

“You’re getting yourself killed.” You told him and he got up from the couch, his coffee cup empty and he places it in the dishwasher.

“Oh yeah?” A stupid smirk formed on his face, it didn’t take a poet to read his face for every time that smirk appeared he was ready to tell a bad joke at an even badder time. “I don’t see you pointing the gun.” His arms fold.

A stupid smirk as if this was all a game. But This is the closest he’s been and the most he’s talked to you as a conversation.

“Still.” You walk past him and before you could go far he catches your arm. His smile slowly dropped as he sees nothing works with you. No amount of space or time would you seem to open up to him. Even if it’s only been a few days, he knew the longer he stayed quiet the longer you did too.

“I’m here to help you.” He promised. You never heard it from someone’s mouth. He was here to help you, didn’t mean he wanted to help you. He was being paid to keep you alive. You had to remember that.

“I know.” And you slipped away from his grasp and walked out of the room. “But you’re going to die trying.”

Leaving him alone, frustrated, and able to check off a few more things from the list of things you were said to be: Stubborn.

Tom knew exactly what he was getting into when he was asked to work for you. The daughter of a wealthy family with a dark past. Your father was a successful politician and businessman, your eldest brother becoming the CEO of a company he started, then there was you. The heir to everything they owned. If both your father and brother were to die, you would be the richest women in London, possibly even the world.

So people wanted you dead for a good reason, money. With the money you were the heir to, you could do anything in the world with.

There were companies out to kill you, people who were promised half the money if they were to kill you. Kill you like they did your mother, they killed your mother in hoping to get your father and brother and take over but it was too quick, they only killed her.

The man who murdered your mother was never found. He was rumored to be seen, rumored it was a family member, rumored to be many things but all Tom knew was that at eight years old, you were in the house with her and were the one to find the body. Now you were destined to have the same faith.

So when Tom stepped into that interview with your father, he knew he was signing his life away. He knew everything there was to know about you but he also thinks deep down there was a girl who needed help, that to keep her alive he had to listen to her.

Tom had found comfort in the large safehouse, it felt like more of a mansion than a safe house, he spent half his day in the gym, another half he found himself finally having time to read as this was his first bodyguard job where he wasn’t constantly on his feet. All in between he checked in on you, you who only came out of your room to get water, food, or any other thing you might need but you didn’t talk to him. You also were the first person he thinks he’s ever protected that he didn’t hear talk.

Once he protected a D list celebrity who was so far in her head all she talked about was herself so he guessed that being with you was a change of pace. But he wanted to know. He wanted to know what there was beyond what the media had presented of you.

The smell of spices and the heat that filled the house drew you out of your room that night. Tom, Tom wearing another tight shirt and sweatpants, cooked in the kitchen. He wore glasses, you didn’t think he wore glasses. You looked at his file, of course you did, he didn’t have any eyesight problems. He was allergic to daisy’s though, that made you laugh. Such a tough guy allergic to such a dainty flower.

“Do you need help?” You say as you lean against the kitchen door. He jerks his head up, shocked that you came out of your room as the past few nights have been dinner with himself.

“I-Uh-yeah,” he clears his throat. Step 1 of being a bodyguard, never let your client get you flustered. He just broke step one. “Can you cut the chicken?”

You nod, taking the knife from him and going over to the cutting board. Cutting the raw chicken into smaller chunks while he worked on peppers, adding them into the pan before taking the cut chicken from you and throwing it in there as

“Do you miss home yet?” You start a conversation, you were willing to get to know him. But not fall in love with him like he had maybe hoped you would. You would break his heart—quite literally as he would die.

“No,” he states. “My family knows I’m safe wherever I am, my best friend and brother is taking care of my house and my Tessa.” He comments.

My tessa, you think. Of course he has a girlfriend at home, someone as charming and attractive as him, he had a girl.

“Tessa?” You repeated and he nodded as he stirred what was in the pan.

“She’s beautiful, found her when I was around 14–“ found was an interesting way to say you got a girlfriend. Slightly disrespectful even. “She’s always excited to see me and is so spoiled, I mean she takes up half the bed and—“

“Tessa is a…”

He lets out a soft chuckle, turning to see your worried and confused face.

“A dog, darling. Tessa is a dog.” Your heart starts to beat normally again and you let out a soft breath. You shouldn’t even care if he had someone at home or not. If he was talking to someone or if he was more of a hookup man than relationship or relationship more than hookup. None of that should’ve mattered as you remind yourself he is only your bodyguard, you could control your hormones and control everything for however long you stayed here as you’ve done it before.

“She sounds lovely.” You say. “I’ve never had a dog.” You admitted. It was true, no dog, no cat, not even a fish as you were always gone, never around to take care of it.

“Really?” He has a higher pitch to his voice.

“No, we always moved around so much that I guess I never really got to settle down to have one.” You shrug and he leans against the counter. For a moment he takes in your beauty, something he didn’t even get the chance to do as he first met you. And you were gorgeous, he knew that from the pictures but seeing you in real life was different. Even if you just wore an older tee shirt and sweats, you had eye bags as he assumed you weren’t getting the best sleep. You were scared, he knew that.

“Maybe when this is all over I can introduce you to mine.” He offers before turning around and continuing to stir the meat.

“I hope you like burnt tacos.” He jokes and for the first time he sees a small smile and the small sound of a laugh leave your lips. If only he knew he was the first one to make a laugh leave your lips in a long time.

Tom was a funny man. Over dinner he told you joke stories about past bodyguard jobs he had. He told you about his childhood and he made you feel normal. Even though you knew it was wrong, you saw him as a friend. He made you feel normal, his cooking could use some work but it was the thought that counted—you had bodyguards cook for you before and it was way better but Tom allowed you into the kitchen letting you hold a knife without thinking you’re going to accidentally stab yourself.

“I feel so safe under the arms of a criminal.” You laugh as he finished telling you the story of when he was a kid he would steal candy from cinemas and small shops when he didn’t have any money.

“I was 11 and I know the wrongs now.” He laughs as he swallows the last bit of food before coming over and touching the small crumb that managed to get on your cheek.

For a moment, his touch was so soft and so settle you almost forgot what the feeling of butterflies felt like in your stomach. For the feeling of butterflies were forgien to you since relationships were mostly restricted. You’ve snuck away a few times as a teen, just to feel an act of rebellion but nothing romantic. Romance was almost laughable to you as something so sweet and so nice could never truly last like it did in the books and movies.

He clears his throat realizing he was too close, he leans back and looks down at his plate that was nearly empty but he didn’t want to stop talking to you. He liked hearing your voice and he knew in this moment, he was seeing the true you.

“So what about you? What crimes have you committed.” He teases and you let out a soft laugh.

“Not really able to commit crimes when you can never leave the house or never go anywhere. I guess my worse crime would be sneaking out.” You joke and he makes a small face.

“I guess that is rebellious.” He laughs and you do too. He feels bad for you, you had never had the normal childhood everyone else did. He told his whole story and he could see a small light in your eyes like you’d hoped for that too.

“Sorry I was...distant for a few days.” You don’t make eye contact with him. “My dad is super protective of me and I guess it just gets exhausting knowing there is a threat but always hiding, always being away, you never get a night out you know? I don’t think I’ve ever had a night where I’ve gone to a pub or even just a day where I’ve casually walked through town. I want that, you know?”

He doesn’t nod because he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what it’s like to always have a red dot pointed at his chest, well, he does but not the target they truly want.

“Yeah.” He moves his legs and offers to take your plate. You hand it to him with a thank you before getting up to help him with the dishes.

“You can go get some rest, I’ve got this.” You only stayed silent because you didn’t want to argue with him. You also didnt want to push your limits.

He was a bodyguard. Not a friend, not a lover.

Two weeks pass and you and Tom learn to know each other more and more. In the mornings you two have coffee, the afternoon you have lunch and go for a small run in the forest—you wear a hat and sunglasses for protection. Evening you two make dinner together and late at night you both find yourself reading in the living room—two nights ago you fell asleep and tom carried you to bed.

Tom was the kindest person you had ever met and you had met a lot of people. Not only was he kind but he was selfless, he put every need of yours in front of his even if it wasn’t apart of the job. He was the most of a friend you had ever had and quickly became your best bodyguard.

What worried you about Tom is how when you got back home, when the threat was cleared, he was most likely to leave as your father wasn’t fond of the idea of you having a bodyguard for too long. Your father claimed it was so you were better protected, that if they were a mole they couldn’t figure out that much.

So two weeks into living with him felt like the longest bodyguard you had. A bodyguard who actually said goodnight was nice as he helped you to bed when you were too drunk or tired.

“Careful Tom!” You had started using his name with less spite and more care. You two loved to find youselves in the kitchen seeing just who could fuck up dinner more.

“I'm not even doing anything!” He holds his hands up, maybe it was all the hormones but you dreamt about gripping on his muscles while holds you—

“You’re stirring too quickly.” You quickly snap yourself out of whatever thoughts would make you awkward for the rest of the night. “You'll burn it.” You come behind him and take the spoon. His eyes slightly red as he had already drank a little bit too much tonight. You found that your Tom drunk was giggly, playful, and teasing.

“I don’t think one could stir too quickly, Princess.” There were plenty of pet names. Princess, darling, Angel, peaches, he had an array of names. He seemed to love the one Princess.

“I think you are.” You take a sip of your wine and he turns down the temperature of the stove before grabbing plates.

Assembling two plates of food for the two of you. As you go to grab silverware, you stumble over the tile and Tom is quick to catch you.

You hiccup as maybe you’ve had enough for the night but still wanted to drink some more. Toms hands around your lower back is a forgien feeling. For the last time you think a man had touched you was when you lost your virginity at 17. Toms hands were large, rough, but at the same time so soft.

“I got you.” He says and you look down at his arms, the small space between your chests and then his lips but finally you make it up to look at his eyes. His eyes where he even the tiny of red, the glossy finish over them as you knew he was tipsy. You could tell something deep in his eyes saw something as well. He saw hope with you, hope that he knew he shouldn’t have.

“Think that’s enough drinking for you.” He takes your wine glass and takes a sip from it. You huff as he was much stronger so when you tried to grab the cup, all he did was put his hand out and stopped you.

Dinner was sweet as usual, you two talked and laughed. Having dinner with Tom at the small wooden table was the first time you had a home cooked meal at a dinner table since your mom died. Since you were eight years old. It was strange to laugh like this, you feel bubbly as you never expressed yourself like this to anyone else before and all it took was a few weeks, bottles of wine and many failed dishes.

“I think your cooking skills have improved.” You teased and he swallowed his bite before cocking his eyebrow.

“Darling, I am a good cook, I just...am rusty.” He jokes and you smirk at him.

“Sure…” you tease and he scoffs.

“Give me time I swear!” His words were harmless but you hated time. Time was limited. Tom was limited.

I’ll give you all the time I have, you think. If you could you would. You would give him all your time.

As you tried to get up from the table you nearly trip over your feet once again, catching yourself on the table but Tom is quick to come to your side and help you.

“Okay,” his laugh was so soft yet deep, you could fall asleep to the sound of his laugh. “Now we know for sure you’ve had enough to drink. Maybe we should get you to your room.” He teases and you roll your eyes.

Even though you’re completely capable of walking yourself, Tom walks you down the long empty hall to the bedroom with the slight crack to the door.

“I can walk myself.” You joke and he lets out a soft laugh.

“Yeah, you tripped twice tonight.” He teases and as you got to the door you stood in front of him. He wasn’t towering over you like other bodyguards you’ve had in the past, he was just the perfect height. Being this close you could see everything better, even if the hall was dim and only lit with the moon that was full and bright.

He had soft pink lips, a freckle on his lower lip and though they were thin they were a slight shade of red from the wine and the faint smell of mint came from the chapstick he wore.

You don’t even know you’re doing it, your hand subconsciously goes up to brush the soft scare in between his eyebrow. It splits the hair and creates a soft dent.

Your thumb brushes over it and tom doesn’t move, he only watches your face as you become amused by it. He becomes amused by every part of you.

“You have a scar.” You comment the most obvious and he takes a soft hold of your wrist.

“I hit my eye on the monkey bars, had to get stitches.” He told you and you move your hand down from his brow but he still holds your wrist. He doesn’t even realize that your hand now rests on his cheek.

You hold his gaze, the two of you were completely frozen. He can’t kiss you, he knows this. He was your bodyguard and nothing more, he was here to protect you and that was it. When he gets back to London, you and him will be parted and the only memories he can hold onto are the ones from the magazines.

“Tom.” Your voice comes out as a faint whisper. Almost as a squeak.

“I-I can’t.” He blinks away. He lets go of your wrists and turns around as if he were to walk away from you. He was so close and now he was walking away from you.

“Please.” You reached out for him and he clenched his jaw.

He didn’t know how long you two would be here, he also started to see you as something more. Morning runs filled with laughs, your afternoon reading sessions filled with blanket sharing and often times you falling asleep on his shoulder. Dinner was always the best, dancing and laughing over most of the time half burnt food.

“Your dad will kill me.” He comes back to being face to face with you. He was right, yes, but that was the last thing you wanted to think about.

“He’s not here, is he?” Your hands rest on his shoulder and he swallows hard. Hard enough you see his Adam’s Apple go up and down and his eyes find yours.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” He says. If only he knew his words were quite literally. You may one day be the death of him, and that was why you knew you shouldn’t do this.

“I’m not pointing the gun.” You use his own words back at him and before you can say anything else, he presses his lips against yours. His hands come around your lower back to press you against his body. You are already pulling at the lower ends of his hair, tugging at the nape of his hair as he’s pushed you up against the hallway wall.

He’s quick to take you into the bedroom and have you in your own bed, quivering under his touch as the moment he removes your shirt he is met with no bra, this entire time you have been walking around this house braless and that drove him crazy.

“So fucking soft,” he touches up your stomach and takes each nipple into his hand before taking attention to each one.

As he kisses down your body, he kisses over a faint scar, a scar that resembles one of a wound, a bullet wound. He looks up at your face and he sees how your eyes are screwed shut so he doesn’t take anytime ro question it. For maybe it was something better left alone.

To think that this entire time you were living with a sex god made you mentally slap yourself. He was selfless in every way as he paid all his attention to you.

“Shit darling, fuck you’re tight.” He comes down to plant a kiss on your lips.

“P-Please Tom, f-faster.” You cried and your wish was his command as he buried his face into your neck and your nails dragged down his back.

“I want to hear you,” his breath isn't even shaky as he pounds into you. “Let me hear who’s making you feel this good.” He told you and you didn’t hold back.

For nothing was around except trees and nearby lakes, although even the trees whisper, the trees head everything but the two of you don’t know that.

First it was one, then two, then three orgasms until you begged him to stop. Everything felt so good but so much, it amazed you how long he could go.

Moments after you two lay in pure silence, he cleans you up and makes sure you’re alright, you had never had someone take so much care after you two were together, but Tom took all the time with you.

“Was I too rough?” He asks and you shake your head. Your head rests against his chest and you trace soft circles over his chest.

The soft moonlight falls into the room, your bodies sweaty and intertwined with each other and for a moment you forget where you are. You forget that you are hiding in a safehouse and that Tom was your bodyguard and that when you got back to London he would be nothing but your protector. The closest he would come to touching you would be his hand pulling you out of danger.

“Do you want me to stay?” he looks at you, his hand comes to brush your face and for the first time you look at a bodyguard, look at him with such passion and answer,

“Stay.” With your sweet words and his soft touches, for once you feel a sort of calm. For once you don’t have to feel like you’re dying.

The next two weeks you spend with Tom in pure bliss. Feeling each other’s love everyday, each day was filled with more and more excitement.

You hadn’t had much updates on your threat, not much at all as the only messages Tom received were ones telling you guys to stay safe.

But everything had been too quiet. as you felt safe, Tom hated himself for not telling you the nights he woke up in a sweat with you by his side, swearing someone was watching you. Swearing someone watches as you slept. He neglected telling you that after you fell asleep, he looked around the house as something was off.

He no longer left his gun in one room as he always had it on him. You thought he was being over dramatic but he told you it was to keep you safe.

“Your hair is so soft.” You kisses along his neck as your hands are tangled in his hair. As he loves the feeling of your lips against his neck, he feels something is different. Someone was watching the two of you.

The feeling he felt as you woke up, restricting you from your morning jogs. The feeling he felt causing him to keep the blinds closed a little bit longer.

As he tries to keep his attention on you he fails. His grip tightens on you but even you know it’s not in a good way.

“What’s wrong?” You look up and his eyes are locked at the back door. Your eyes look over and you see nothing. you always could tell when a bodyguard sensed something. You knew when Tom woke up, pulled you closer and in the morning blamed nightmares, you knew where all the guns were even if they were ‘hidden’. The way you felt him tense like there was someone else in the room.

“Tom, you’re scaring me.” You move closer towards him and he snaps his attention back to you.

“Someone's here.” He says and gets up from the couch quickly and his hands were wrapped around you still. He had one hand on your lower back and his other hand reached into the couch and pulled out a gun.

“Go in the bedroom.” He ordered and you looked at him ready to protest. “This isn’t a argument Princess, go.” He nearly barks at you and you do as you’re told. You run to the bedroom and get the phone, the only phone that you’ve been able to have signal with and you make the call.

For years, you never cared about your life being on the line. Knowing your faith would go out the same way your mother did, you only hoped you hadn’t a child to watch you die. Now, you knew toms life was on the line and for the man who made you feel something for the first time in years. You couldn’t let him go. Your life had been filled with death and tom was the last person you wanted to see go.

The door opens and your head snaps up and you point a gun. Tom holds his hands up, he holds back a smile as he taught you well. Taught you better. How in the middle of the day he would teach you how to point a gun, how to shoot in case he failed you.

“You won’t fail me.” You remember saying. “You’ll never fail me. Although I might fail you.”

“We’re clear, for now.” He came to you. Helping you to your feet as you huddled in the bedroom corner. “You’re okay.” He promised. He was the first bodyguard to pull you into a hug, kiss the top of your forehead and make you feel safe. You swear, under the muffled sound of his lips pressed to the top of your head you heard him say, were okay. You wanted him to say it louder but this would do for now.

“Don’t go dying on me.” You held him tighter. “Please.” His heart broke at your words.

He didn’t know if it was right, he certainly knew that his job wouldn’t allow it but deep down he knows if you allow him, more than sex, he’ll love you. He can love you.

“You’re not getting rid of me that fast.” For maybe his jokes in serious times weren’t the funniest but he was here.

He can’t hear it, maybe it was his mind playing tricks on him but he swore he heard the soft I love you from your lips. Nuzzled into his shoulder tears fall and he holds you close.

He wouldn’t die on you, not unless you were the one pointing the gun. With him you were safe and for once, with you he was safe.

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#bodyguard!tom #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland au #tom holland angst #imagine tom holland #tom holland x you #Tom Holland fic #tom holland x y/n

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lazyartisticeye · 4 years

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Oak Island Is A Drinking Game

Oak Island is a History Channel reality show about the treasure hunting Lagina brothers (Rick and Marty.) Oddly enough, even though it’s a show about mystery and loot, what I really find interesting about it has nothing to do with X marking a spot. There are two things that give this show a special quality, at least to me. 1. I don’t believe I have ever heard a ‘bleep’ in all the many years it has been on. Oh, I think an occasional ‘damn!’ has been uttered.. but not ‘god damn. In fact, unlike just about every other reality show on the face of the earth, Oak Islands’ principals are a couple of soft spoken, seemingly intelligent men. 2. On the other hand, and in contrast to the above, I am amazed at how often I do hear the words ‘wood’ and ‘shaft.’ Of course, the fact that they never curse on The Curse of Oak Island makes the constant usage of ‘wood’ and ‘shaft’ that much more amusing to me. So amusing, that I decided to make a game outa it called Drink Is The Curse of Oak Island. Rules: It’s a 2 player (or two team) drinking game. Team one: The Ricks, Team 2: the Martys. The game pieces consist of a shot glass for each player and a decent bottle of sipping alcohol (in this case Johnnie Walker Black.) The game starts with a coin flip, the winner choosing either ‘*wood’ or ‘*shaft’ as their word. (Ideally, there will also be a nondrinking nonplayer to serve as an overseer. The overseer’s main purpose is to keep the events of the game historically correct, but an inventive overseer can also enrich everyone’s experience by throwing in little mind fuck games... especially in the later stages of play.) The players then sit down and watch an episode of The Curse of Oak Island. Depending upon which team you’re on, every time someone on the program says ‘wood’ or ‘shaft’ the corresponding person/team throws back a shot. Example: One of the diggers is heard to say. “I think we’ve hit wood.” At that point, the person (or team) that has ‘wood’ as their word immediately throws one back. (You must swallow the whole shot or be disqualified. Spilling a drink or throwing-up anytime during the game will also result in disqualification.) Whoever is still conscious by the end of the program will be declared winner by someone.. presumably, the overseer. If both players are still conscious by the end of the program, the player who consumed the most shots will be declared winner. And that’s pretty much it.

*no variation of these words are allowed. Example: you may not use ‘wooden’ or ‘woods’ or ‘shafted’ or ‘shafts.’ Only ‘wood’ and only ‘shaft’ are permitted. Let’s Play Earlier this week, Lazy Eye and Artistic Eye decided to play a round. (I was overseer.) Lazy Eye was team Marty and had ‘shaft’ as their word. That left Artistic Eye (team Rick) with ‘wood’ as their word. The ‘map’ they played was Season 7, Episode 9. 32 minutes in... Lazy Eye said. “Thirsteen shafts! Fucking thirsteen shafts and with half a fucking shit show to go. Gotta get schwifty.. shitty... shafts..” “They say ‘drill’ alot, too, ya know.” Artistic Eye added. “Just once, I’d like to see Marty open his mouth and have a string of bleeps come out.” I confessed. Curse of the End Game I woke up, alone, on the couch at around 11:30pm... just in time to see the end credits to Rick and Morty... which, btw, is another good drinking game show.. or maybe it was the same drinking game show?.. hmmm.. Shit, I think I drooled, a little. Anyway.. So, did I mention that the overseer probably shouldn’t drink?.. And, if anyone doesn’t know it, here’s the Oak Island backstory.

#curse of oak island #wood #shaft #schwifty #rick and marty #rick and morty #games #drinking #drinking games #get schwifty #history channel #adult swim #overseer #underseer #tv

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tabloidtoc · 4 years

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TV Guide, February 17-March 1

Cover: Laurie Metcalfe, John Goodman and Sara Gilbert of The Conners

Page 1: Contents

Page 2: Ask Matt -- Warrior, Chicago Med, New Amsterdam, Grey’s Anatomy, Plus Your Feedback, Coming Next Issue -- Spring Preview with Supernatural

Page 4: Upfront -- How television honored Kobe Bryant

Page 5: Executives at History are excited to honor their 25th Anniversary with the President’s Day weekend premiere of Washington, Tribute: Fred Silverman, America’s Most Watched 25 Top Shows

Page 6: Tech -- Better ways to watch

Page 8: The Roush Review -- Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist

Page 9: Visible: Out on Television, Year of the Rabbit, Interrogation

Page 10: Cover Story -- The Conners continues to forge a funny path forward while still honoring Roseanne

Page 12: Spring Fever -- here’s fresh scoop on what the season has to offer -- Indebted, Cherish the Day, The Good Fight

Page 13: Outlander, Awkwafina is Nora from Queens, Coyote, Prodigal Son, Fargo

Page 14: Carson Daly -- longtime host of The Voice -- on the new season and rookie coach NIck Jonas

Page 15: A hostage extraction takes a bloody turn as the soldiers of SEAL Team face their most challenging assignment yet

Page 16: What’s Worth Watching -- Week 1 -- NCIS: Los Angeles

Page 17: Monday, February 17 -- America’s Got Talent: The Champions, The Neighbors, The Green River Killer: Mind of a Monster, Hallmark Channel’s Tails of Joy

Page 18: Tuesday, February 18 -- We Are the Dream: The Kids of the Oakland MLK Oratorical Fest, NCIS, This Is Us, Chopped, New Amsterdam, Wednesday, February 19 -- Bluebird, Party of Five, Criminal Minds

Page 19: Thursday, February 20 -- Edie Falco on Tommy, Superstore, Outmatched, Carol’s Second Act

Page 20: Friday, February 21 -- Fresh Off the Boat, Gold Rush: Dave Turin’s Lost Mine, Haunting in the Heartland, This Week at the Comedy Cellar

Page 21: Saturday, February 22 -- Rocketman, American Ninja Warrior Junior, Sunday, February 23 -- Better Call Saul season premiere

Page 22: Sunday, February 23 -- The Walking Dead, When Calls the Heart, Forensic Files II, The Rookie, NHL Hockey, NASCAR

Page 38: Streaming Guide -- Netflix -- Jeopardy!, The Last Thing He Wanted, Queen Sono

Page 39: Prime Video -- Grantchester, Hunter, Facebook Watch -- Sacred Lies: The Singing Bones

Page 40: New Movie Releases

Page 41: Series, Specials and Documentaries

Page 42: What’s Worth Watching -- Week 2 -- Sam Keeley of 68 Whiskey

Page 43: Monday, February 24 -- Black in Space: Breaking the Color Barrier, The Kelly Clarkson Show with Wilson Phillips and Pentatonix, The Voice, The Good Doctor

Page 44: Tuesday, February 25 -- William Shatner on The Curse of Oak Island: Drilling Down, Miles Davis: Birth of Cool, black-ish, Miracle on Ice: 40th Anniversary, NBA Anniversary

Page 45: Wednesday, February 26 -- Brian Geraghty on Chicago P.D. and Chicago Fire, The Goldbergs, It’s Personal With Amy Hoggart

Page 46: Thursday, February 27 -- Joel McHale on Will & Grace, Ghost Adventures, The Sinner, Law & Order: SVU, Friday: February 28 -- Shark Tank, RuPaul’s Drag Race, The Kingmaker

Page 47: Saturday, February 29 -- Dying to Be You, AEW: Revolution, The Sonny and Cher Show, Seven Worlds, One Planet series finale

Page 48: Sunday, March 1 --Jason Segel on Dispatches From Elsewhere, Outlander, Secrets of the Zoo: Down Under, Avenue 5, NASCAR

Page 70: Horoscope

Page 72: Cheers & Jeers -- Cheers to The Good Place, Arrow, Grey’s Anatomy and Station 19, Next in Fashion, Jeers to Emergence, Love Is Blind, messy Megxit strategies

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laresearchette · 1 year

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Sunday, March 26, 2023 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)

WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES?: RABBIT HOLE (Paramount+) 24TH MARK TWAIN PRIZE FOR AMERICAN HUMOR (CNN) 8:00pm RIDE (CTV Drama) 9:00pm SUCCESSION (HBO Canada) 9:00pm YELLOWJACKETS (Crave) 9:00pm SEEKING BROTHER HUSBAND (TLC Canada) 10:00pm EVA LONGORIA: SEARCHING FOR MEXICO (CNN) 10:00pm LOWNDES COUNTY AND THE ROAD TO BLACK POWER (MSNBC) 10:00pm

WHAT IS NOT PREMIERING IN CANADA TONIGHT?: HOUSEBROKEN (FOX Feed) GREAT EXPECTATIONS (TBD - Disney + Star)

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:

CRAVE TV SUCCESSION (Season 4)

LGT WORLD WOMEN’S CURLING CHAMPIONSHIP (TSN/TSN3) 4:00am: Bronze Medal Game (TSN/TSN3/TSN5) 9:00am: Final

MLB BASEBALL (SN) 1:00pm: Jays vs. Yankees

NHL HOCKEY (SN360/SNEast/SNWest) 5:00pm: Bruins vs. Hurricanes (SNOntario) 6:00pm: Leafs vs. Predators (SNPacific) 6:00pm: Canucks vs. Chicago

NBA BASKETBALL (SN1) 1:00pm: Mavericks vs. Hornets (SN1) 6:00pm: Wizards vs. Raptors (SN1/SNEast/SNWest) 8:30pm: Timberwolves vs. Warriors

NCAA WOMEN’S BASKETBALL (TSN4) 7:00pm: March Madness: Elite Eight (TSN/TSN4) 9:00pm: March Madness: Elite Eight

BEST IN MINIATURE (CBC) 7:00pm: The celebration hits an all-time high as the artists make tiny decorations and create a party atmosphere in their dining rooms.

SULLIVAN'S CROSSING (CTV) 7:00pm: Maggie sees Cal in a new light after they help an injured resident and spend time together at karaoke.

A YEAR ON PLANET EARTH (CBC) 8:00pm: The North faces the sun’s rays, the great melt begins bringing new life. For animal families in the South, conditions are worsening as days shorten.

ISOBEL CUP: MINNESOTA WHITECAPS VS. TORONTO SIX (TSN3/TSN5) 9:00pm

ESSEX COUNTY (CBC) 9:00pm: Ken doubts his ability to care for Lester, while Lester develops a new bond with Jimmy. Lou resents his loss of independence and against Anne’s wishes, ventures into town with disastrous consequences.

NITRAM (Super Channel Fuse) 9:00pm: Living a life of isolation and frustration, a young man develops an unexpected friendship with a reclusive heiress. When that relationship meets its tragic end, his loneliness and anger culminates into the most nihilistic and heinous of acts.

RENOVATION RESORT (HGTV Canada) 10:00pm: In the fourth cabin challenge, Scott and Bryan serve up a kitchen; Savannah and Kyle get things cooking while Rotem and Troy have a crisis over storage space; Jena and Sean bring the outdoors in and April and Arnold keep things dark and moody.

PORTRAIT ARTIST OF THE YEAR (Makeful) 10:00pm: Bruno Tonioli, Yolanda Brown, Helen Sharman

NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC INVESTIGATES - LEGAL MARIJUANA IN AMERICA (Nat Geo Canada) 10:00pm: The U.S. war on pot is not over, as penalties and jail time are still a threat.

THE CURSE OF OAK ISLAND: DRILLING DOWN (History Canada) 10:00pm: Matty Blake joins the Laginas and their team to get an exclusive behind the scenes look at a day of film production for "The Curse of Oak Island."

#cdntv #cancon #canadian tv #canadian tv listings #best in miniature #sullivan's crossing #a year on planet earth #essex county #renovation resort #portrait artist of the year #the curse of oak island: drilling down #curling #mlb baseball #nhl hockey #nba basketball #ncaa basketball #isobel cup

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tessatechaitea · 4 years

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Review of The Twilight Zone, Season 1, Episode 17: "The Curse of Oak Island"

I fell behind on watching The Twilight Zone episodes because I noticed that the new season of The Curse of Oak Island was available on Hulu. When I first noticed the show, The Curse of Oak Island, on Hulu, something nagged at the back of my mind. I started watching it and when they mentioned The Money Pit, a long lost memory of reading about The Money Pit hiding treasure on Oak Island while in Junior High came flooding back to me. I was hooked. Not long into the first season, I knew they were never going to find anything. But that made watching it even more enjoyable. Some people can't look away when they see a train wreck. I can't look away when I see people desperately waiting to see a train wreck that's never going to happen. These idiots have now spent millions and millions of dollars over six years (televised! They've been searching for the treasure even longer than that!) to find a few coins, two Bobby Dazzlers (Australian for jewelry, I guess?), a lead cross, and some pottery. But they still believe they're going to eventually find "the one thing" which will assure them the treasure is real and they haven't been wasting their time. Although I don't know what would be different if they found "the one thing." Because without finding "the one thing," they continue to go back to the island every year and throw millions of dollars into the money pit. The only people getting rich off of this treasure hunt are the people they hire to drill into the island. Coincidentally enough, the latest episode of The Twilight Zone was also about some jerk who threw away all of his money in search of a fortune. The episode, called "Fever," iss about a righteous Midwestern man who winds up in Las Vegas with his wife on a free vacation. He's against gambling but that's only because he's never felt the thrill of it! As soon as he puts one dollar into a slot machine, he's hooked. He's got the fever, baby! And he just knows the island is going to eventually pay out! I meant the slot machine. If he just puts enough money into it, he'll win the ten thousand dollar jackpot. He stays up all night losing money until the machine takes his last dollar and breaks down. Upset not over his foolishness but over the machine cheating him out of one dollar, the man smashes it to the ground and is hauled off by security. He hasn't slept for over 24 hours which, in The Twilight Zone, means you have to throw yourself out of a window. Unless that means you're supposed to die of heart failure on the bed while dreaming you threw yourself out of a window. I think they're basically the same thing, at least for the person who dies. The story seems to be a morality tale warning against the dangers of gambling. Unless it's warning against the dangers of strict adherence to moral platitudes. Because it's always the people who absolutely abstain from a thing who wind up diving dangerously into that thing when they finally submit to the temptation. I bet that's the real moral. Self-righteous people are just ticking time bombs! Anyway, that's what the story seems to be. But I think the story is really just the tale of a mentally ill man succumbing to his schizophrenia. He begins hearing voices and he thinks the slot machine is calling to him. He is stricken with insomnia and unable to get any rest. He begins hallucinating that the slot machine is after him. He is convinced that he will win the jackpot if he just keeps playing long enough. He acts erratically, screaming at his wife and vandalizing the casino. Ultimately, unable to live in the world he thinks is real, he throws himself out of the hotel window and bleeds out on the streets of Las Vegas. Rod Serling says he took a detour through The Twilight Zone but really he was just suffering from abnormal brain chemistry. The poor guy. I don't think people knew that much about schizophrenia in 1959 so the guys that run the casino just take it in stride. "This kind of greed fever happens all the time," they say. "Just not to that extent!" "Greed Fever" was probably part of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders up until the 80s when it just became Trickle Down Economics. "What's wrong with wanting more money at the expense of the middle class's comfort? Why shouldn't we change tax rates so that CEOs and upper management can make more money rather than putting it back into the company to provide health insurance, pensions, and cost of living wage increases to avoid paying 90% taxes on the income? That's not greed fever! That's just the common sense that comes with tying huge tax breaks to the same political ideology that believes in more access to guns and less access to abortions!" Too bad Rod Serling wasn't around to write scathing morality tales about Reagan-era greed! Just imagine all of the episodes he could have ended with people throwing themselves out of windows! My favorite part of The Curse of Oak Island is when they find something and somebody, say Gary the Metal Detector Guy, says something like, "It's a hook!" And then the narrator, needing to make the show interesting and having graduated from Keith Morrison's Dramatic School of Narrating, says, "A hook? On Oak Island? Perhaps used for hauling treasure chests? Could it be a sign that the treasure is finally within reach? Is it possible that aliens made the hook and sold it to the druids who wrote a manifesto predicting the coming of the Templar Knights? For the Lagina brothers, it's a sure sign that they're closer than ever to discovering the secret of Oak Island." Man, that's good stuff! My favorite part of Fever was when the wife screamed after her husband fell out of the window. She probably screamed because she was so surprised that the window broke so easily when he merely backed slowly up against it and then somehow flung himself out and over the sill. Maybe schizophrenics are more nimble than average people. I bet the next day, she sued the hotel for such shoddily built and unsafe windows and won way more than ten thousand dollars. Then she probably fucked a young Wayne Newton. Maybe I'll start writing a The Twilight Zone fan-fiction series entitled "The Next Day" so I can continue the stories of all the people in the episodes. Like that guy who was fucking the robot on an asteroid and he had to watch as the rocket ship pilot casually shot her in the face because she was too heavy to take back to Earth. That guy probably murdered everybody in the rocket on the journey back home.

#The Twilight Zone #Rod Serling #Fever #The Curse of Oak Island

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