#twin coves art | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aveegrex · 2 years

Text

MERMAN OSAMU X READER (PART 1)

PART 1 | PART 2 kinktober masterlist

pairing: merman! osamu x f! reader genre: fluff word count: 1,9k cw: alcohol consumption (mostly implied), brotherly banter, implied broken engagement, swimming at night

author's note: this piece would never happen without @flycloudddd 's amazing art. thank you again for being so precious and for blessing this site with your talent.

merman osamu who, unlike his flamboyant twin, popular amongst their kin, longs for the two-legged. he saw a two-legged once when his brother’s flock was traveling close to the shore: the child - he thinks so, otherwise it would be weird if all the two-legged were so small, - let out an excited cry when osamu’s pretty steel blue tail flapped over the water.

when his kin settled nearby a small island, osamu never skipped a chance to swim close to the coast. it was nighttime, mostly, and osamu learned that the two-legged usually preferred daylight. he watched those little who stayed after darkness, puzzled as to why after consuming something from elongated shells the younger two-legged were so giddy to go for a dip. they also were so slow in water, and osamu studied his tail after this discovery, learning that it probably had much more use than he initially thought.

he once took his reluctant brother to watch humans (osamu was surprised his brother had any sort of knowledge at all, and a little offended that such knowledge rested in his area of interest). atsumu called it quits and swayed his goldish tail twenty minutes in, calling osamu a “pervert” and leaving him to ogle at humans alone. he was about to head for a more populated part of the coast, the one with constant music and noise, but then a lonely frame caught his eye.

a lonely frame that was making a very strange sound. osamu never heard this sound before, but it made his heart squeeze with sorrow. he stayed, watching as this human dug her feet in cold sand, and carefully moved to the thickets of weeds shushing under the soft breeze.

the noise only grew with time, both shattering osamu’s heart and masking the smallest splashes of water as he swam closer, blue eyes never leaving the human. he watched, bewildered, as this human took something off her finger and threw it in water with a particularly loud scream.

his eyes darted to the splash, but then were back only to see the figure disappear into the adjusting woods. osamu waited for a while in case the figure would return soon, just like those with elongated shells did after leaving more than one empty. but as no one came back, he sighed, soft bubbles resurfacing with the movement of his gills, and dove in to the place where the trinket sank.

oh, this one osamu was familiar with. a ring. he knew those could be expensive, and this one sure was nothing short of precious, a fat diamond sitting atop. why would a human discard a fortune?

he decided to keep it. atsumu always made sure to flaunt the jewels he and his pals found in their dangerous scavenges of sunken ships, so it would only be fair to shove the find in his brother’s smug face. atsumu never found a diamond. now he can shut his trap about osamu being the useless twin.

but day after day the ring burned into osamu’s chest, the small chain it was put on itchy against his silverish scales. atsumu’s pout made him happy for exactly ten minutes, but then he wondered if that ring was cursed. why else would it only return his thoughts to the screaming human, so lonely on the dark seashore with her feet covered in damp sticky sand?

so osamu returned. again and again, he returned to the same shore, but he never saw the figure again. he traveled around the island multiple times, all in vain, every night ending with him returning to their underwater retreat devastated and puzzled.

he was about to leave this night too, ending his daily retour with the inspection of a secluded cove. osamu for some reason had a soft spot for it: the warm lights streaming from the house just mere feet from the water, the big rocks cuddled together right next to the pier, and a large shade tree that left the water cool enough for him to delay there for a bit at dawn.

osamu took what he thought would be the last glance at the cove, but then stilled. it was you, this figure from countless nights before, sitting on the pier with an elongated shell in your hands.

cautious of his own movements, osamu darted up to the roots of the tree clawed up above the waterline. holding on to the snag, he peeked from behind it, studying the lonely figure. why would you be here? last time he saw you, it was across the island, on the dark and lonely shore. and now you’re here, under the warm lights streaming from the windows, and you’re doing the thing that those younger humans were doing that made them act silly.

osamu huffed, and immediately reprimanded himself, as the cold water bubbled up around him. luckily, you seemed to pay it no mind, instead chatting feet in the water carelessly. you looked relaxed, even, like atsumu when he stole jellyfish potion from their mom’s cave when they were kids. yeah, exactly like that. but prettier.

osamu’s other hand clutched on the ring. should he return it now? would it be polite to just swim closer and put it by your side on the damp deck? or should he wait till you’re gone to just leave it on the pier?

“ya think too much, dumbsamu” he remembered his brother’s words as he failed to make a move at his cute mermaid classmate. osamu’s sight darted to the ocean, and he frowned. maybe, but any thinking at all would classify as too much in atsumu’s eyes.

osamu noticed how waves roll a bit higher, how the sound is harsher, louder than it’s supposed to be on a quiet night like this, and his scales shifted, notifying him of upcoming storm. now or never it was.

he looked back at you, seemingly unaware that the weather’s about to change. you should hide in the woods, probably. that’s where all humans go when the night comes, isn’t it? and he won’t reach you there.

the ring buzzed against his chest. suddenly, it felt too heavy, like an anchor pinning him to this swampy water under the stag. osamu clutched the chain, eyes trained on your idyllic pose, the elongated shell set aside and, as samu knowingly guessed, empty.

now or never.

he swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded to no one in particular.

the sky was so clear, devoid of clouds, all little sparkly crill that swim in it ablaze so brightly. the breeze, pleasant and unthreatening, the calm light pouring down your features from the house, the fireflies so carefree all around the cove - it was just perfect to return the ring now.

osamu clutched on the ring tighter, and yanked on the chain, leaving a tiny pressure mark on his nape. now or never.

“staring is rude, did you know?”

osamu’s eyes shot up, meeting your playful gaze.

“yes, you, silly” your voice so smooth, so pleasant, splashes of water by your feet barely covering the sounds samu didn’t really understand.

you saw him?

“i saw you”

he tilted his head to the side, a little too much to come off normal, and you giggled. oh, that was even prettier.

samu tilted his head to the other side, and you giggled again, louder, the little notes bouncing off the waves up to the starry crill, and osamu mirrored the sound, bubbly giggle awkward and skittish against your cheery and confident one.

somehow, it made him at ease, so he giggled again. and again, and again, and again, earning you more and more amusement, until suddenly you hopped into water and popped right before him.

“rude” you stuck your finger in his chest. “but cute” and his ears twitched, echoing your smile.

“rrrrooodd” he echoed, his free hand mirroring yours on his chest. “khj-uutt”. he shook his head, droplets of water flying everywhere, and a little pout came from within his puzzled face. “samu”

you just smiled, eyes drifting all over his mystic features. the silverish strands in his hair, his sprakly dragonfly ears, his gills, moving rhythmically just mere millimeters under the water, and rare scales that adorned his buff shoulders.

“samu” he repeated sternly, catching your attention, and it dawned on you.

“you don’t understand me, samu?” you cooed, hand failing to resist the urge to glide over his cheek.

“samu, mhm” he nodded strictly, eliciting a giggle out of you. “khj-utt”.

you just exhaled, not so out of defeat, but out of thrill, eyes fixated on his cerulean ones. he’s pretty, too pretty. a merman is always pretty, or at least your grandparents used to say so. you brushed it off before, but now, looking at the first ever merman you’ve witnessed, you saw where they were coming from.

his ethereal eyes, his plump lips, the scales that shone like platinum under the moonlight, and the childlike naivete he oozed - not just the merman, he was the prettiest man you’ve ever seen.

“samu!” his yelp broke you out of your thoughts, and your eyes darted down to the membraned palm, rising from the water. you gasped, seeing what’s inside.

“samu, samu!” he shoved his hand under too close, pleading eyes and panicky tone making you clutch on his shoulder.

“you’ve found it-YOU’VE SEEN ME?”

“s-samu?”

“samu, yes, i get it” you felt your anger pooling inside. he wasn’t just watching you minutes ago, but also all these weeks since your ex was chivalrous enough to fuck you over so pathetically. “were you watching me all this time, samu? stalking me?”

he flinched back, one sway of a tail to put him a foot further from you. osamu really didn’t understand your words, but the tone was enough. you were mad. angry. maybe he should have left the ring on the pier? but the storm…

he cringed slightly when your warm hands cupped his colder one. “you just wanted to give it back, didn’t you?” once more, your tone shifted, and samu tilted his head again, ears perking up in confusion. “oh, i’m so sorry, samu” you cooed, carefully swimming closer. “you just thought i lost it, and wanted to give it back?”

“lost it, mhm” he poked your chest with his hand, ears drooping down in relief. he heard that word before, atsumu took him to watch the fishmen retireving their nets from the water, emptied by atsumu and his flock for a bet. “lost it, you”

you shook your head, a huff of a chuckle warming up his chest as you embraced him, feet finding a reliable root underwater. “thank you, samu”

what use would it be to explain the intricacies of love now? the alcohol made you brave enough to engage in conversation with a merman, and it made you brave enough to let go of what your ex did, so there was no need to confuse this hunk with a tail any further.

“samu” he puffed his chest proudly, his senses telling him you must be pleased with what he did. “khj-utt”

you were about to agree, when your mother’s voice cut across the mood, calling you up to the house.

“coming!” you replied, eyes darting back to samu. he seemed startled, ears twitching to the sides in agitation.

“thank you, samu” a sweet whisper heated his cheek, and he felt your lips pressing up against it, adorning the second one with blush. “cute”

he just stayed there, dumbfounded, tail swaying frantically under the surface. his heart, loud and joyous in his chest deafened the sound of you swimming away, only for him to realise seconds later.

you didn’t take the ring.

MDNI, reblogs and comments are welcome, it's 'hello merman!' time of the year

taglist: @hoohoohope @justanothernpcartist @the-b-u-n-n-y to join the taglist, please leave a comment on my kinktober masterlist or dm me (remember u have to have ur age in bio)

270 notes · View notes

wynterlanding · 8 months

Text

Curious about aus that exist you may not have seen much of? Look no further than universes from the vault!

Vampire AU: Spooky Season unearths this rare gem from the treasure trove of verses yet to be added officially to the list. Landon is a gentleman of the Victorian era now living in the modern world who had the misfortune of dying and resurrecting as one of the undead in 1888. He had been visiting England at the time of a rather grim series of real life murders. Oh you know the ones. Now he runs a photography studio with an eye for art and the nearest neck.

Single Father AU: A request only type of world, Lan had a daughter with his ex Emeline while they were in high school. She stuck around a few years but couldn't handle being trapped with a baby or settling down. She flew the coop and left him to raise the child on his own. Fast forward to the present and he's contending with all the troubles a teenager brings.

Twin AU: The biggest alternate universe of all comes out of the woodwork with double. Landon was born with a twin brother in the New England town of Cove Valley. He left for the big city to pursue his journalism career. However his twin Lance still holds the old family house near the shore, when he isn't traveling all over the country and sometimes the world, working on massive projects. A famous architect, Lance is an oddity, an enigma who endured tragedy with the death of his fiancee. He is cool and hard to read. At times his obsession with the sea crops up in his work (monuments, restored landmarks and personal artwork) on a haunting level. The two brothers are not close any longer. No matter how much Landon tries there is something that always pulls Lance further out with the tide. This world requires more planning to interact in.

#verse villain era. verses #depraved stories from the underground! wishes

12 notes · View notes

voidsentprinces · 9 months

Text

Their steps struck at the sand and stone of the very bottom of the ocean floor. Unsettling the undisturbed soil untouched by mortality and only ever pushed hither and thither by ocean tides. Their steps coming to a precise and united haunt. Alisaie’s eyes grew large at the sight.

“By the gods,” She whispered, her eyes beholding an unfathomable sight. Joined she was by the other Scions, a sight of great magnificence. A landscape herefore unforeseen in their many ventures. For to describe it as simply a city or a settlement would do it little justice. It was, without hyperbole, a landscape. Where one would expect mountains, hills, or forest. Here rose from the great crevice of the ocean, towers of metal and glass. Piercing up into the dark canopy of the Tempest. In stark contrast to the Crystarium’s whose singular tower lanced at the light burdened sky.

Her other twin audibly swallowed as he took in the sight, a frog in his throat as he summoned up the words to form the sentence, “When, the Ondo spoke of city, I did not think they meant an actual city!” Alphinaud’s eyes trailing across the horizon, as the spires of iron and glass had curvatures wrapped around few and far between. Accenting them as if punctuating a sentence, as if stamping an envelope. In them they looked upon this sight as if it was a love letter.

While many could not deny when looking upon Ul’dah that blood and stone was poured into its construction, Gridania was made to be closer to its vaunted elements or Limsa Lominsa grew from many ships anchoring together. Here before these travelers of another star was granted perfection only able to be seen and crafted by a artiste. Even Ishgard’s many cathedrals built in devotion to the Holy See and the Fury paled in comparison to these simple constructions. Made out of furvor, longing, and somber reverence. Letters left on unmakered graved. The last tender kiss of a couple, now forever apart. Lingering affection left unfulfilled forevermore.

The sorceress ever witty and sharp to retort stood speechless, as she too struggled to find her own footing, “Then...” Her voice trailed off briefly before she found the resolve, “We are seeing the same view!” The milked over eyes of her blind eyes shimmer as if placed in front of a roaring blazing light, “The remnants in the Ondo settlement solid, material structures, but these...” She spoke in breathless wonder, “Everything here PULSES with aether. ‘Tis an enchantment on a monumental scale!” Y’shtola ever the master of magical arts, for the first time since they had met her in cove near Summerford Farms all those days ago. Sounded awestruck, in wonder and terror as one might hear from a tempered priest speaking of their Primal. This sight in both physical and aetherical sense was an understatement to even begin to consider.

Yet despite its majesty, it would behoove them to stand in wonder any longer. Somewhere within these spires stretching further than even their eyes could catch. Was the Crystal Exarch, long lost G’raha Tia and Emet-Selch, Ascian. Here in the darkness, where not even the light of sin could breach. He awaited them. Their body audibly cracking from the strain of light held abreast and so, one by one, they made their way towards the faux landscape to discover wherein the salvation of the First was held.

7 notes · View notes

peri-bug · 2 months

Text

Candle Cove art pieces I have drawn (my AU♡)

Character designs so far (Percy, Laz[OC], Skin-Taker, Burton[OC], Lillian, and Thade)

Thade / Skin-Taker drawings

Drawing of Schot, Percy, and Burton[OC] (Burton is Percy's twin in my au ♡)

That's all my friends 🤗🤗

#candle cove #oc #oc art #art #candlecoveoc #candle cove au #thade soben #skin taker #pirate percy

6 notes · View notes

simsycatx · 3 months

Text

Brewer Lovestory Lore

Harmony is the breadwinner in the Brewer household. Born to Robert & Mary Brewer (née Logan), Harmony is one of three children. Her Father was a Labourer and her Mother made extra money for the family as a seamstress. Money was tight however they pulled together what they could to nurture Harmony’s natural talent in music.

After flying through grade levels in multiple instruments, Harmony was able to get a music scholarship to attend Britecester University where she studied Fine Arts with a major in Music Theory. It was at Britecester where she met her wife, Dahlia.

Dahlia is the only daughter of Ashfaq (Ash) & Hasna Amer (née Said). Her Father was a Dentist and her Mother enjoyed life as a SAHM. As a child, Dahlia was spoilt and received almost everything she asked for without question. After high school, her parents insisted she go to university so Dahia opted for Art History at Britecester because she believed it would be an easy pass.

Harmony and Dahlia actually had two first-time meetings. The first was during Fresher's week, when they met at a nightclub, however, aside from finding a few selfies with each other on their phones the next morning, they don’t remember too much about the meeting.

The second meeting took place in the library. Harmony often spent her evenings in the library studying, mostly because her dorm room was too chaotic to concentrate. It was Dahlia’s first time visiting the library when she officially met Harmony. The two spent hours studying together with Harmony heavily assisting Dahlia who was VERY behind on her assignments.

From there, the two became close friends, and it was only with Harmony’s encouragement and help that Dahlia graduated. Despite sacrificing her time to help Dahlia, Harmony graduated with honours and the highest GPA in her year.

After university, they became roommates and lived in the Arts District of San Myshuno. For the next two years, they supported each other through several terrible relationships and breakups. It was on Harmony’s 24th birthday that Dahlia nervously came out and expressed the love she had for her.

“I know this might ruin our friendship but I can't keep it to myself anymore” - Dahlia

To Dahlia’s joy, Harmony was relieved because she felt the same way but was also too scared to make the leap. From then on their relationship blossomed from best friends into true love and were engaged to be married within the year.

Six months out from the wedding, Dahlia had a crisis of love and after a night out without Harmony made a regretful mistake. Tearful and with her heart broken she came clean to Harmony, the wedding was called off and Harmony returned home to her parents.

Two years later they bumped into each other during the Romance Festival, both seeking answers from the Romance guru. Realising how much they’d missed and loved one another they slowly, and with the help of some couples counseling, built their relationship back up.

The two were married in a small ceremony at Myshuno Meadows with only their parents and siblings in attendance.

Shortly after the wedding, the two moved to the Willow Creek suburbs where they reside at 426 Foundry Cove (formerly Crick Cabana).

By this point, Harmony was actively working within the music career, with aspirations to join the Willow Creek Orchestra as a Concert Virtuoso. Dahlia had been in and out of several careers and at the time of moving was working as a part-time Daycare Assistant.

Six months after moving they decided to expand their family and become Mothers. Dahlia was implanted with two fertilised eggs, one belonging to her and one belonging to Harmony with the hopes that one would take. To their surprise and luck, both eggs were successful and Dahlia gave birth to twins, Myla and Arabella.

Today, they share a mostly happy life together with their daughters. They might sometimes bump horns but ultimately they know they are truly soulmates.

Family tree & Photo dump below - I'll share their CC list shortly too 😺

#sims4cas #ts4 #ts4 family #sims 4 family #sims family #sims lore #sims storyline #sims story #showusyoursims #ts4 save file wip #ts4 family tree #sims family tree

2 notes · View notes

cydanite · 1 year

Note

Id like to know more cod father opinions do the empires have different widely excepted interpretations among the citizens what is the worst possible way they have told his story and what is the most generous conclusion some one has come to How are the other empires remembered what does jimmy think of the more sympathetic artist or writers Is Jimmy the only one to be seen as a villain or are there other cases of historical misinformation does Jimmy know how Joel died or did he leave before that

Also, in the comments of Part 8 on Ao3, Efield commented this:

"I would like to know more about depictions of the cod father do the different empires have different widely excepted interpretations among the citizens What is the worst possible way they have written his story and what is the most generous possible conclusion some one that didn’t meet him would come to with the knowledge available What do they think of Lizzie if they remember her well then would art of them would focus on the stereotype of good and evil twins or seablings How do they remember the other emperors what does jimmy think of them Would he find some funny I love works that shows how history remembers season 1 emperor’s Was jimmy the only one to be painted as a villain or where there other cases of historical misinformation Is Jimmy a good house guest to Joel does he get along with Hermes"

I have taken both of these as an excuse to write a lot, so here you go!

Now do keep in mind, I know very little about art history except what is taught in basic K-12 schooling. A lot of my theory probably doesn’t make much practical sense. But this is for fun so that’s okay!

In this au, the setting of Empires S2 is a different continent than Empires S1. After the Rapture, many people were killed or displaced from the S1 continent. 1,000 years later during the time of S2, the S1 continent has become habitable and is fully populated. A few S2 members are from the S1 continent, such as Shelby and Pix! All this to say, the historical opinion of the Codfather isn’t local to S2’s nations and probably has a pretty homogeneous perspective from those who live on the S1 continent (which I have been calling the Ruined/Old Continent.) That’s not to say there isn’t some variation that exists!

First of all, there is obviously the one explored in this fic. The general perspective of the Codfather seen by most is “Technically we can’t prove he caused the Rapture, but it’s definitely the most likely outcome so he might as well have done it.” Whatever S1 cultures survived the disaster and the 1,000 years of time probably have changed a lot. They have no connection to the Cod Empire anymore, no reference to its morals or reputation outside of historical accounts. Also, the inhabitants of the Cod and Ocean empires are literally fish and amphibians in this au, and their whole deal is that they only formed civilizations due to the influence of 2 demigods (kinda like in Hollow Knight if you know the lore behind that) so they’re not around to give their side of the story. The various ravines and craters dotting the Old Continent, reminding those who see them of its terrible past, probably doesn’t do much for the cultural conscious as well.

Another perspective is that of Pirate Cove, or more specifically by sailors! I talk about it in this post, but generally it focuses more on the seablings as ocean gods than as historical figures.

There are a few other ideas I have. Maybe Animalia has a different perspective on the Ocean Gods, revering them more as gods of Fish and Amphibians then of water? Also, the art museum referenced a few times: Azelo City is meant to be located in modern day Mezalea. A lot of fan interpretation pictures Mezalea as the arts capital of S1, mostly due to the bright colors and the idea of Joel sculpting clones. I think this culture would have withstood time, so that area might interact with the history of the Codfather more through art, prose, and philosophy more so than anything else.

Some of the above applies for Lizzie too, mostly the sailor lore. I think she is seen as the older and wiser of the two (Older? Yes. Wiser? …they’re both kinda silly lets be honest.) If the Codfather facing upwards represents youth and optimism, the Ocean Queen facing downwards represents wisdom and protection. She is said to be both terrifying and devoted. Maybe nowadays young lovers call their partner their “Ocean Queen” to show their love. It's a little ironic like someone calling you the Juliet to their Romeo, lol.

Jimmy, at this point of the au, probably doesn't agree with the more sympathetic interpretations of him. Even if The Rapture wasn't his fault, he doesn't have very high opinions of himself as a leader. So what does it matter that history sees him as a villain, it's probably deserved. I also don't think Jimmy knows how Joel died, he left before that. We also don't have a time frame for when Joel specifically died. I like the interpretation that he lived past the rapture for a few years before the grief finally caught up to him. (Ironically, by running away to the ocean depths, this is exactly what Jimmy was trying to avoid.)

Maybe I’ll get to some of the other S1 emperors and their legacies another time, as I don’t have many great ideas for most of them. Also most aren’t relevant to this au. Feel free to come to your own conclusions or suggest some!

Also, I have another ask about Hermes and already had sketches in the work before they were asked. The lad is of great importance to me too don’t worry :D

#swamp duo au #empires smp au #empires au #esmp au #empires jimmy #empires solidarity #jimmy solidarity #solidarity gaming #empires lizzie #empires ldshadowlady #ldshadowlady #mcyt #mcytblr #adina123 #efield #cydanasks #i just realized i havent tagged any of these as empires smp... did i do that on purpose? i dont remember

51 notes · View notes

justforbooks · 2 years

Photo

Although she was born in London, and retained a classic English poise all her life, Angela Lansbury, who has died aged 96, was a Hollywood and Broadway star for more than seven decades, and one who was completely unclassifiable. On her film debut, she played Ingrid Bergman’s cockney maid in George Cukor’s Gaslight (1944) and was promptly nominated for an Oscar, though she was never to win one. She graduated to play Laurence Harvey’s evil, possibly incestuous, mother – although she was only three years older than Harvey – in John Frankenheimer’s The Manchurian Candidate (1962), and then a dotty amateur witch in Disney’s follow-up to Mary Poppins, Bedknobs and Broomsticks (1971).

This versatility, allied to her natural grace, vitality and chastely appealing features – her eyes were full, blue and unblinking, her face almost perfectly round, her mouth a cupid’s bow from the studio era – propelled her to stage stardom in Jerry Herman’s Mame (1966) and, in London at the Piccadilly theatre in 1973, as the show-stopping Mama Rose in Gypsy, by Jule Styne, Stephen Sondheim and Arthur Laurents.

Lansbury had been initially reluctant to assume Ethel Merman’s mantle in Gypsy but, like Merman, she gave the performance of her life, full of steel and tenderness in equal measure. Her performance was more nuanced and needy than Merman’s; the critic Robert Cushman described “a slow steady build towards magnificence”.

But she became best known worldwide for Murder, She Wrote, an American television series running from 1984 to 1996, with four subsequent TV films. She played the incisive and level-headed Jessica Fletcher, a retired English teacher, mystery writer and amateur sleuth in the coastal town of Cabot Cove, Maine, a sleepy location with a criminal body count as delightfully high and unlikely as in Midsomer Murders.

“It really was a fluke success,” Lansbury said, “and came at a time when that kind of family entertainment seemed needed.” She added that, of all the characters she played, Fletcher was the one most like herself: intuitive and sensitive, a voice of calm and reason in a troubled time. She gradually assumed ownership of the CBS series. Peter Shaw, whom she had married in 1949, was joint director of the production company; her son, Anthony, and stepson, David, were executive producers, her brother Bruce was supervising producer.

Family was always of paramount importance to Lansbury. She came from strong, muscular stock: her father, Edgar Lansbury, was a lumber merchant and one-time member of the Communist party and mayor of Poplar (his father was George Lansbury, a reforming leader of the Labour party); her mother, Moyna MacGill, was an Irish actor who took Angela to the Old Vic theatre in London from an early age. One of her cousins was Oliver Postgate, the British animator best known for Bagpuss.

She was educated at South Hampstead high school for girls and trained at the Webber Douglas Academy of Dramatic Art. Her father died in 1934, and her mother merged her family – Angela and her younger twin brothers, Edgar and Bruce – with that of a former British Army colonel in India, Lecki Forbes, under one roof in Hampstead.

It was not a happy arrangement.

At the outbreak of war, Moyna decamped with her children to New York, and Angela continued her training for two more years at the Feagin school. While her mother toured Canada in a variety show for the troops, Angela did cabaret turns in Montreal. When Moyna’s agent sent her to Hollywood for an audition, she decided to move the children out there with her.

Nothing much happened at first, so mother and daughter took jobs as sales clerks at Bullocks Wilshire, the art deco department store in Los Angeles, while continuing to audition. Angela was still only 17 when she landed the role in Gaslight, and this set a pattern of playing older than her age. A notable exception was The Picture of Dorian Gray (1945), in which she played Sibyl Vane, the chirpy music-hall singer, a role that brought her second Oscar nomination; through her co-star, Hurd Hatfield, she met her future husband, Shaw. She had been married previously, for just nine months, to the actor Richard Cromwell, who was almost twice her age.

By this point a Hollywood fixture, Lansbury played Elizabeth Taylor’s older sister in National Velvet (1944), sang Jerome Kern’s How’d You Like to Spoon With Me? in Till the Clouds Roll By (1946), fooled with Danny Kaye in The Court Jester (1955), peaked in glory in The Manchurian Candidate, with her third and final Oscar nomination, and joined another great cast list in The Greatest Story Ever Told (1965), which David Lean took over as director from George Stevens.

Lansbury took American citizenship in 1951, and made her Broadway debut opposite Bert Lahr in Feydeau’s Hotel Paradiso in 1957, following with Helen in Shelagh Delaney’s A Taste of Honey in 1960 and, most significantly, Cora Hooper Hoover, the corrupt mayor in Sondheim and Laurents’s 1964 flop Anyone Can Whistle. The show, which has since become a concert favourite, closed in a week, but Lansbury came out of it with flying colours, commended by critics for her agility and engaging personality; she was even likened to a young Bette Davis.

This led to her Mame acclaim, and her first Tony award. Lansbury played Auntie Mame, a free-spirited woman who picks herself off the floor of the stock market crash to sing Bosom Buddies (Lansbury duetted with Bea Arthur) and who ultimately recoups her fortunes by marrying a southern aristocrat. She won a second Tony in Herman’s next show, Dear World (1969), a musical based on Jean Giraudoux’s The Madwoman of Chaillot, in which she appeared to be dressed in “a wedding cake made of cobwebs”, according to the critic Walter Kerr.

A belated London debut followed in 1972, when she joined the Royal Shakespeare Company at the Aldwych in Edward Albee’s All Over, playing the mistress of a dying man, locked in battle with Peggy Ashcroft as his wife. She took Gypsy back to Broadway in 1974 for a few months, winning her third Tony, then joined the National theatre at the Old Vic in 1975 to play a fairly youthful, glamorous Gertrude to Albert Finney’s thickset, plainspoken and powerful Hamlet, directed by Peter Hall; the production was part of the opening season in the National’s new home on the South Bank in 1976.

Back on Broadway, she hit another great milestone in Sondheim and Hugh Wheeler’s Sweeney Todd (1979), playing the gleefully cannibalistic, pie-making Nellie Lovett (and winning a fourth Tony) opposite Len Cariou’s demon barber in a dark and scintillating production by Hal Prince that played on Broadway for a year before touring the US for another 11 months.

Before Murder, She Wrote, a series of starry film roles included John Guillermin’s Death on the Nile (1978) with Peter Ustinov, David Niven, Bette Davis, Mia Farrow and Maggie Smith; Guy Hamilton’s The Mirror Crack’d (1980), in which she did some sleuthing stretches by playing Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple, with Elizabeth Taylor, Kim Novak, Tony Curtis and, in his penultimate movie, Rock Hudson; Wilford Leach’s rocked-up The Pirates of Penzance (1983), opposite Kevin Kline as the Pirate King; and Neil Jordan’s wonderfully weird The Company of Wolves (1984), in which she played yet another eccentric old granny figure.

She did voices for two animated movies – Beauty and the Beast (1991, for Disney) and Anastasia (1997, for 20th Century Fox) – but was not in a feature movie again until she played Great Aunt Adelaide in Kirk Jones’s Nanny McPhee (2005), starring and written by Emma Thompson. Subsequently, she was with Jim Carrey in Mr Popper’s Penguins (2011).

For many years, Lansbury kept a home in County Cork, Ireland, where she and Shaw would spend two months each year while maintaining their base in Brentwood, Los Angeles. She rented an apartment in New York in 2007 to return to Broadway in Terrence McNally’s Deuce, a specially crafted two-hander for her and Marian Seldes about former tennis partners reliving past glories while watching a match at Flushing Meadow, and switching their heads from side to side during the rallies.

The play was not a huge hit, but Lansbury was electrifying and was greatly moved by the affection with which audiences greeted her. She had not been on Broadway since a possibly ill-advised 1983 revival of Mame.

Regarded by now as a national treasure, in 2009 she won her fifth Tony as Madame Arcati in Noël Coward’s Blithe Spirit, wearing a bright red wig and “with a superfluity of bad jewellery, the gait of a gazelle and a repertory of poses that bring to mind Egyptian hieroglyphs”, wrote Ben Brantley of the New York Times.

At the end of the same year in New York, she appeared for six months as Madame Armfeldt in Trevor Nunn’s Menier Chocolate Factory revival of Sondheim and Wheeler’s A Little Night Music, winning plaudits for her nostalgic litany of fading qualities in Liaisons: “Where is style? Where is skill? Where is forethought? Where’s discretion of the heart? Where’s passion in the art? Where’s craft?”

The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences compensated for her lack of an Oscar with an award for “some of cinema’s most memorable characters” in 2013, and the following year she was made a dame, and took Madame Arcati to the Gielgud theatre in London. She was Aunt March in the BBC’s adaptation of Little Women (2017), and in 2018 she both appeared as a balloon-seller in Mary Poppins Returns, and joined up with another member of that cast, Dick Van Dyke, as guardian angels in the Christmas tale Buttons.

Shaw predeceased her in 2003, and she is survived by Anthony, David, her daughter, Deirdre, three grandchildren, five great-grandchildren and her brother Edgar.

🔔 Angela Brigid Lansbury, actor, born 16 October 1925; died 11 October 2022

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

#JUST FOR BOOKS #Angela Lansbury #in memoriam

24 notes · View notes

fanficwriter284 · 2 years

Text

Break In

"Ok, I think we got everything you two. Oh, wait I forgot the paint I'll be right back. Ok?"

"OK DAD!"

Chucky went to go grab the brushes from the closet and the twins waited for him holding their brushes ready to do some art with their dad, with Beau by their side. But in their father's absence, the front door swung open. A guy with a ski mask coving his face with a black sack in his hand and a knife in the other. The three just locked eyes having a stare down, Beau growling. The twins broke eye contact and looked at each other.

"BEAU! STRIKE!"

The family dog didn't hesitate and jumped the intruder and devoured his right arm causing him to drop the knife.

"DAD!!!"

Heard the kids yell for their father and made the man flee, managing to knock the heroic canine off him. Beau was by no means a small dog, he was assumed to be a German Shepherd and possibly half wolf judging how hyper and huge he was. They almost consider naming him Bear because of his size but found the name Beau more suitable for his spunky and joyful nature. However the man wasn't so lucky because Beau ran after him catching up to him in a matter of seconds tackling his to the floor.

"AHHHH"

Chucky came rushing towards the kids making sure they were ok and what the hell happened. They told him someone broke in and Beau went after him.

"GO GET BEAU!!! IT'S OK WE'LL BE FINE!"

"YEAH GO!!!"

Chucky took off in a sprint grabbing the knife. He found Beau shredding their intruders arm to bits.

"AHHH!!!! FUCKING DOG!!!"

The man pulled the dog's ear causing him to yelp in agony but not letting him go.

"BEAU"

Chucky grabbed the man by the collar and forced him to look him in the eyes.

"Beau Release"

Beau obeyed and let the man's arm go but no before giving it a final yank.

"Wow he really did a number on you"

"Please, man. I'm sorry. Please just let me go."

"After you just fucked with my dog, scared my kids, and broke into MY house! No fuckin way. And they said I was nuts"

Beau to watched circling, making sure nothing happened to Chucky.

"PLEASE"

"You know what, I'm feeling nice today"

Chucky let him go and backed off.

"Go on"

"Really?"

"Yes, just go"

The man ran off.

"Strike him"

Beau barked and went in for round two this time going for the neck.

"AHHHH"

Chucky caught up with the two and put an end to the man her broke into his house.

"Good Boy Beau, you've earned a yourself large steak" Chucky patted his pet's head and the two walked home, Beau waggling his tail the whole way home.

(Ok, I loved writing this fic! He really is a good boy! Let me know what you think! Let me know if I should write more stories with Beau!)

#Good Boy #chucky #childs play #charles lee ray #Chucky being a Dad #raysforever #chuckyxtiffany #glen and glenda #Glen and Glenda #chucky x tiffany #Glen Ray #Glenda Ray #chiffany #tiffany valentine

23 notes · View notes

twincovesgame · 10 months

Text

Morgan. And Morgan.

Posted this on yesterday’s KS update and a few weeks ago on Patreon, but it needed to be shared here too.

#twin coves #twin coves game #Morgan Cooper #art

289 notes · View notes

flowerfeast444 · 11 months

Text

you were a house on fire || h.s {pt 5}*

harry styles x oc

chapter summary: Harry and Roe can’t help but let their thoughts wander when they are alone, leading them to meet again. (god i love this chapter fr)

word count: 2.8k

series masterlist

Roe was ten years old the first time she stole. Granted, it was a set of watercolor paints and a single, ragged brush from her elementary school, but still, she saw herself as a first-time thief. Her class just finished their painting unit in their art class, and while everyone except Ethan, her best friend, had their attention elsewhere, she slipped the supplies into her backpack. That was two weeks after the twins were born. Lucas found her stolen goods, barely eight at the time, and tried convincing her to return them because everybody knows that people who steal go to jail, and he couldn't have his big sister go to jail.

Of course, Roe promised Lucas she was safe, and it was okay for her to keep her paints. That, however, didn't stop her from hiding them whenever Blue Uniforms searched through the house. They always came with loud shouts and left with one or both of her parents. No. Her paints were safe. There was a spot between her dresser and the wall where the case could sit without falling to the ground. You only saw it if you knew it was there.

Roe woke up that Tuesday with a picture of it in her mind, still behind the dresser, collecting dust. It had been there since she was fourteen, and the Blue Uniform left with her dad like they had many times before. But unlike those other times, he didn't come waltzing back through the front door weeks or months later with a smirk on his lips and shake of his bald head. She left the case there, told herself she would bring it out again when her father's boots clunked around their house. Day after day, her hope dwindled until she forgot of its existence entirely- until now.

With a lull in clients at Keystone and today as her day off at the diner, what harm could she do by pulling the old dried up pigments from their hiding place? River was her only company at home, but she put him down for a nap only moments ago. So, Roe set up her paper, watercolor, and brush, and water in a cracked plastic cup that read "Pirates Cove!" on the kitchen table in the sunlight of midday. It was all there- her supplies, time, quietness, ambition to create, yet she couldn't think of anything to paint. No subject. No muse. At least, not one she desired admitting to.

Roe slouched into her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. This was not how it was supposed to go. She wanted to paint a flower or some fruit. She wanted to be able to paint freely, without thoughts of a lingering lover plaguing her mind and ultimately restricting the feeling in her fingertips. It was as if she were actually there with her hands anchored around Roe's wrists.

Perhaps Roe was not meant to be an artist. She shook her head and blew a puff of air to send her bangs away from her eyes. She picked up her phone and dialed the only number she still knew by heart.

~~~

Harry's ringtone drew him from his warm afternoon nap. His body never knew which timezone to align itself with, and with no work for the unforeseen future, Harry found himself napping more than he did when he was a toddler. He wiped the crusted sleep out of the corners of his eyes and untangled his phone from the sheets near his left knee. "Niall Horan" lit up the screen in bold lettering under a picture of said man doing a handstand on top of one of their tour buses. Harry took that picture on their first tour and always admired it. By the time he was ready to answer the call, it was too late, sending Niall off.

Harry ran his hands over his face again. Certainly, Niall would have his ear for that one. Sure enough, seconds later, his phone rang again. "Hey," Harry answered, his voice heavy.

"Hey mate, you alright? You didn't answer, and you sound," he paused, "tired?"

"I'm fine. You woke me is all."

"Oh."

"Did you need something?" Harry loved talking with his best friend, but a much timider and hesitant voice had replaced the Irishman's typically quick and carefree one.

"No, no. Just checking in on you. Seeing how you're doing is all."

"I'm fine, Niall, really. Say what it is that you want to say, I know you have something," Harry huffed.

"I- all the boys, well really Liam and me, we want you to know that we're here for you and," he paused again. Harry thought he might've heard whispering on the other end, but perhaps he imagined it, "we know you're going through a tough time with everything- more than us for sure. Just- we're here if you want to talk."

Harry sighed as Niall continued his speech. Biding his time, he cast his gaze towards his window. A mourning dove landed on the fire escape and snatched a cockroach into his beak. The insect twisted its legs in an attempt to escape but soon gave up before the bird dove back down into the alley. Envy pinched his chest, but for which party, he did not know.

When Niall eventually stopped tripping over his words, Harry reassured him that he was fine and would call him in the case that he was not. They gave their goodbyes and hung up not long after. With no plans for the rest of the day, Harry allowed himself to fall back into slumber despite dinner hours approaching.

~~~

"I'm so glad you called, I needed this. And by the looks of it, you do too, babe," Sara shouted in Roe's ear over the thumping bass of a song she didn't recognize.

Roe tried her best to let everything go and allow the tequila to numb her throat. Secretly, she hoped it would numb everything above it as well, but so far the drink was failing on both fronts. She just went through the motions; take shots, dance, shout some song lyrics, repeat. These nights were rare, and they usually hit the reset button on her stress levels. It wasn't often she could let loose and not think about anything worrisome for a few hours.

But tonight, no matter what she did, she could only picture Ariel in the crowd next to her. Roe's heart twitched at every glimpse she caught of a brunette, and her chest burned because of it. She's not so sure she can blame it on the tequila.

Tequila, however, was to blame for her following actions. A simple 'hey' sat in the text box under Harry's contact for several moments, the blinking text cursor mocking her loneliness and indecision. She saved his number from work one night in case of emergency- whatever an emergency at an automobile shop would look like. She swore she wouldn't hit send, honestly, but a petite woman bumped into her shoulder and suddenly there's no way for it to be undone. She chewed her nails with a furrowed brow as the 'delivered' sign quickly turned into 'read' and three dots appeared underneath it before a reply came through.

'Who is this?' it read. Shit. This was a mistake.

'roe. sprry'

'Oh. Are you ok?' Roe looked up, sifting through her thoughts for a response.

A dancing couple caught her eye, distracting her from the task at hand. The woman nuzzled her nose in her partner's neck, swaying several beats too slowly for the song pumping through the speakers. The man didn't seem to mind, just swayed with her, arms resting naturally on her lower back. The rest of the dimly lit room meant nothing to them. The ceiling's strobe lights were shooting stars for all they cared.

Roe fleetingly wondered if she and Ariel ever looked like that. They never slow danced in the kitchen or stargazed together- "We're not a romcom, Roe," she would say. But, after long days of work and taking care of the kids, they laid atop each other on the scratchy living room couch, and Ariel hummed Something by The Beatles as she played with Roe's hair until they both drifted asleep.

Did it look like that? Natural?

The couple from before was now nowhere to be found and she worried about their mere existence at all. Rubbing a hand over her face, she responded to Harry, 'fine just drunk'. Before she could convince herself otherwise, she added, 'miss yu'.

This time, it took several minutes for a word back from Harry. Roe anxiously nursed a beer after deciding to take it easy on the tequila shots. The room spun, and she honestly needed to sit down, but she kept her eyes transfixed on her phone.

'Do you want to come over?'

With that, Roe made her way through the crowd towards Sara. It took a moment to locate her in the throng of bodies, but when she did, she made up an excuse of being tired and wanting to call it a night early. Sara understood because of course, she always does. Her kindness left Roe with a slight weightiness as she slipped her jean jacket on and stumbled to the train station a few blocks away.

Even in her state, Roe remembered the route to Harry's apartment. It wasn't a long journey from the bar, and soon enough, she knocked at his door. She barely had time to question her motives before it swung open to reveal Harry half-dressed. A pair of loose black sweatpants clung to his hips and a smug grin hung lazily from his lips. They spared but a moment as Roe stepped inside and dragged him closer by the drawstring of his pants, but despite their impatience, they first connected their lips leisurely.

"You taste like beer," he giggled.

"You," she traced her tongue down his neck and nipped at his collarbone, "smell like weed."

"Aren't we a pair?"

Roe kept her fingertips at his waistband, teasing gently as Harry guided them through the living room. Roe nearly pulled away, expecting to settle on the couch again, but Harry kept leading them down the hall. Every few steps, their footing fumbled, and they had to rely on the wall for stability. Harry's hand sank into her thigh at the bottom of her body-con skirt, and as the kiss grew heavier, the only thought running through Roe's mind was, take it off.

She would like to say they fell gracefully into the bed, but anyone in their right mind would know better. Roe's fingernails dug into the skin behind Harry's shoulder blade. She nearly apologized, but he let out a broken sigh and whispered, "again". Roe scratched again, this time dragging towards the sides of his ribs. They toyed like this for a few moments longer, reveling in each other's heat, rutting against each other. In the midst of this, her skirt had been pushed up to bunch around the thinner part of her waist, and Harry's sweatpants were nowhere to be found. Roe's jacket and tank top straps slipped from her shoulders, providing Harry the perfect opportunity to bite marks into her tanned skin. They rocked together, taking only what they needed from the other- perhaps an iota more. In the absence of speaking, their heavy breaths filled the room until Roe nearly felt the weight of it enclosing her every limb. By the time Harry's final moans subsided, Roe became hyperaware of the sweat beading on her forehead and the stickiness between her thighs. It made her nauseous.

They rolled away from each other slowly, disentangling limbs and the sheet that had become wedged between them. The bed had been slovenly before either of them fell into it; Roe could only imagine how badly the sheets needed to be washed now. She sighed and pushed herself from the bed, finding her clothes hurriedly. Harry stayed still and silent. Somehow after how close they had been only moments ago, they couldn't meet the gaze of the other. Roe wanted to ignore the panicked "shit" that fell from Harry's lips, but she couldn't. Weed paranoia would give a weak excuse for the tension in his face. Something was wrong.

"What is it?" A tall mirror rested against the wall beside Harry's dresser and Roe only took five seconds looking through it as she combed her bangs with her fingers to abandon it as a lost cause. She counted the lucky stars she hadn't worn makeup; if she had, there's no telling the kinds of looks she would get on the way home, and that's saying something. Here's to hoping the lame hour would allow her to stay somewhat anonymous. She gave herself one last once-over before casting her gaze to Harry, more than ready for his answer.

"Are you on the pill, by any chance?" he grimaced.

"Shit."

Roe allowed her face to fall into her hands for a moment. She quickly recovered, putting up a stone wall in her mind, and continued her mission of collecting her things. This time, her emotions were included.

"Where are you going?"

"Home," she replied sharper than she intended.

"I mean, all hope isn't lost, or whatever. I can give you money for a Plan-B or something. I very well can't go buy one, it'll end up in a magazine, and it'll probably be expensive for you." It sounded pretentious even before the sentence was fully formed. Even so, Roe merely shook her head and shoved her heels into her sneakers faster. "Fuck! I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean it like that."

"Doesn't matter if you meant it when we both know it's true."

"You could stay. We could figure something out?" It had been at least an hour since her last drink but she was still feeling the effects of it, and by the droop of his eyelids, Roe didn't trust Harry's sobriety either. The best thing for them was separating, Roe decided.

"Sorry. I just don't really do the whole morning thing. Plus, I've got to work tomorrow. Earn my own money."

"Ok," he clears his throat, "yeah, I get it. Sorry, again."

"It's fine," she demanded coolly.

Roe only looked back once as she left Harry's room. From their conversation, she half expected him to offer to walk her out. But, the telltale sound of a lighter clicking allowed her to take the final steps out the door with confidence. Her heart still beat quickly with adrenaline despite the quietness the Red Line provided her on her journey home. Winter showed no mercy, and by the time she stepped on the platform, her jean jacket barely provided any comfort. In some backward way, she was thankful for the sub-freezing temperatures. It kept her from overthinking the events of the night.

Roe unlocked her front door just shy of four in the morning. Despite her numb fingers and slight dizziness, she managed to go inside and kick off her sneakers without falling into a heap on the ground. Upon entering the living room, she noticed Lucas. He sat on the middle cushion of the couch, slouched so far down, she worried he would get a crick in his neck. A single lamp illuminated the left side of his face, but only just; they lost the original lampshade years ago and their mom replaced it with one from a thrift store that barely fit. So, the lamp now shone dimmer than ever, placed haphazardly on the floor in the far corner of the room (it was meant to be sitting on a table, but they never got around to buying one). All this to say, Roe could barely see Lucas, and yet, he looked worse than she felt.

"What are you doing up?" she asked.

"Could ask you the same thing. Aren't you supposed to be having a girl's night at Sarah's? You know you could've stayed over there, I've got the kids tomorrow."

"Yeah, no, I know"

"You look fucked up."

"Thanks." Roe smiled sarcastically.

"Did you ditch her?"

Roe busied herself by picking up the stray action figures littered on the ground near the stairs and shrugged; "Didn't feel like staying. Why does it matter?"

He shrugged and muttered, "Just kind of a shitty thing to do to a friend."

"Well, I guess it's a good thing that it's none of your business then."

Lucas threw up his hands in defense of her icy words, and watched her collect the remaining toys on the floor. When she finished, she dumped them in a bin next to the couch and finally retreated to her room. She debated peeling off all of her clothes and scrubbing the night off in a hot shower, but one glance at her bed convinced her otherwise. Without any further ceremony, Roe flicked off the lights and let herself fall into a dreamless sleep.

#harry styles #hs #harry styles x oc #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #the female experience of immediately getting icked out by a man after sex LMAO #or maybe i’m just gay #drunk texts

3 notes · View notes