#Mercy Denton

[best-fictional-band-poll]

The top FOUR bands from this poll will go through! Good luck!

[asterekmess]

I want, do you  think of  Denton do think good or bad I find him very shady 

I think you're talking about Deaton, but excuse me if I'm mistaken. I have complicated feelings about Deaton, but in general...I hate his guts. \o/ Like, it's unfortunate that they really really leaned into the "Mysterious Cryptic Black Mentor" stereotype for him, and he didn't get nearly as much depth as they tried to IMPLY that he had? They just kept insinuating that he had this really fascinating and complex background and then refused to actually tell anyone what it was.

Based purely on what I've seen of deaton, versus what the creators might've intended for him, Deaton's a fucking asshole.

This man was fully aware that Scott had been bitten and become a werewolf, and played stupid about it for literal months. He knew how to help literally everyone in town and refused to do so on the basis of 'maintaining the balance' and not wanting to 'get involved'.

He had a way to contain werewolves, and yet let Scott run around town with zero control for two months. Leaving Stiles no choice but to handcuff his best friend and fear for the lives of his friends and family and scott himself. Leaving SCOTT to fear for the life of his girlfriend and DEREK to fear for the safety of his entire species because Scott was constantly in danger of exposing them. Speaking of Derek, he KNEW who derek was. He knew exactly what Derek was asking him about. He swore to protect and help Derek's family and derek himself, and then when faced with a kid who just lost his big sister and was going to the only person he thought might have answers, Deaton pretended he had no idea what the fuck derek was talking about and just hung him out to dry. THEN he shamed him for not trusting people! After LYING TO HIM

They could've stopped Peter so easily. Could've given Scott peace of mind while he learned to control his abilities. Deaton could've helped them understand what was going on and filled in the gaps in Derek's information. Could've played mediator with the hunters to protect Scott and Derek. Could've done his goddamn job. According to deaton himself, he was never retired. He was just refusing to participate until Scott "inspired" him. NEvermind that he left Scott at Peter and the hunters' mercy for months before that. And don't forget that he helped Scott plot out someone's murder and poisoned someone by replacing their cancer medication. Like. o.O Are you fuckin joking? And that's just the early seasons. Deaton's just. A dick. A self-righteous asshole who holds vital information over people's heads until he gets bored enough to involve himself in the world of those SO Far BElow HiM. He's an exposition distributor that tosses information like bread crumbs to the main characters, only when the writers want people to finally find things out. But instead of even having him LEARN things and then share them, he admits to having KNOWN IT ALL ALONG and just refusing to share. He's just as bad, if not worse, than people generally consider Peter to be. His character is just a jerk, my dude. Maybe he was done dirty by the writers, or hell maybe it was intentional. Maybe they meant for him to be a dickhead.

In short; Deaton bad.

[noxexistant]

Hi i momentarily fell into a deep slumber only to be broken by true loves kiss (which apparently includes my dogs slobber)

Developing on the Medda adoption:

There’s a reason she can’t have all these boys at once. She would love to have all of them, to see the same fierce protection that Oscar has for Morris encompass little Jack Kelly as well. But, they’re too distrusting. Of her. Of him. Of everyone but each other.

The first time they pick a fight with him, Jack’s only six. He comes to Medda in full blown sobs, rapidly trying to explain that he’d been trying to play with Morris and Morris got upset and Oscar just hit him to get him to back off. And he’s got a black eye and a bloody nose.

Medda worriedly reprimands them. If she gives them up, they’re left at the mercy of the system, where broken is a kind word for something far messier.

The second time, Jack is only seven. It had only been a few months since the last one, but Jack once again burst into Medda’s room in tears, running and burying himself in her arms, babbling about how he wished Oscar and Morris loved him like he loved them (he’s seven, he gets attached very easily, doesn’t understand why they’re so distant when all he wants-all he’s ever wanted-is brothers) and it isn’t fair that they get to be brothers and not him.

He tells her it was Oscar that hit him, even though it was Morris who had bruised him this time. The older Delancey had told him that he’d better tell Medda it was him-or else. Told her he’d been messing with them instead of just touching Morris’s favorite blanket. He’s just wanted to feel it, honest. He wanted to know what made it so special.

Medda can’t keep letting one of her kids get hurt.

But what to do?

She calls up their social worker-Denton, she remembers- and asks his opinion. He tells her that she’s got to either give up the two brothers, or she’s got to give up Jack. She can’t have both under her roof, not while they pose a threat to each other.

She’s never had to make a harder decision in her life.

And she hopes Oscar and Morris don’t despise her for it.

dog slobber absolutely falls under the umbrella of true love’s kiss. my puppy is currently snoring in his bed across the room - deceptively loud for something so little - and it’s my own personal lullaby.

also, [even more utterly feral screaming]

god, this is so good, it’s like you read my mind.

poor little jack just utterly cannot wrap his head around oscar and morris’ dynamic - not for what it is. how could he? he just sees their closeness and love for each other and wants in. he wants to be a part of it so badly, wants to be their brother, without understanding that their bond was built as a survival mechanism. that it was a lifetime of trauma in their short lives so far that made them so desperately close and so dependent on each other - and it was the same which also made them so quick to violence, so distrusting of anyone who comes close, so quick to lie even when medda promises them it’s safe to tell the truth.

morris’ blanket had been his only possession beyond the clothes on his back when he’d been introduced to medda’s care. oscar’s closest thing to a possession had been his grip on his brother’s hand, and he hadn’t let go for a single second for days, especially not in front of medda - he’d glared relentlessly at her, wouldn’t take his eyes off her, wouldn’t let her anywhere near morris. jack has a bag of things when he comes to medda’s - old clothes that don’t really fit him anymore, but they’d been the last ones his dad had bought for him; a couple books; a few toys - and he doesn’t have the years of abuse the brothers have, but he of course still has plenty of trauma. jack’s mom had been loving until she’d been dead, and his dad had been good too until he’d fallen apart, and he’s just got all these memories of the good times and what could’ve been. all these wants for what could be now, and he wants so badly to be part of a family again, even if he doesn’t really understand the dynamic at medda’s, he knows it’s his new family.

he’s so excited to have brothers. and he really does love them, wants to love them, wants to be their brother. even though he doesn’t understand why morris is so scared of harmless innocuous stuff like the kitchen, and covers his ears when men are talking - even on tv - and sometimes screams when jack is just trying to play with him. he doesn’t understand why oscar won’t play, and glares at medda even when she’s being nice, and has these big outbursts where he throws and breaks things and then hides like he’s terrified and has to be coaxed out by medda promising gently over and over that he’s safe here. there’s nightlights all over the house and there’s nothing glass and there’s silent alarms on the front and back doors if anyone opens them. jack’s not allowed to go anywhere near oscar and morris’ bedroom at night - even if he can hear one of them having a nightmare or medda talking to them - because morris starts screaming if he does, and then he can’t be calmed down, even by oscar.

and that’s another thing - jack doesn’t understand why neither oscar or morris run to medda when they’re upset, like jack does. they cling to each other, and they hide. they don’t tell medda if jack’s bugging them, they just hit him. they don’t tell medda anything, even important things or things they need help with. like when morris wets the bed - oscar just tries to change the sheets by himself, and starts beating on jack when he trails oscar into the laundry room to tell him medda says they’re not allowed to go in there. and medda tries to explain it to jack, sits him down and tells him gently and slowly that awful things happened to oscar and morris and that they’re not like this on purpose, they just need extra patience and looking after and accommodations made for them so that they can get better - just like someone with a physical injury would - but jack’s a kid, and he can’t help from growing to think that the delanceys are just cruel and strange.

which is why it feels like such an inevitability when medda - looking utterly grief-stricken, which jack hates - says as gently as she possibly can that oscar and morris are going to move on to somewhere new. she says it’ll be somewhere better for them, with this look on her face like she’s trying to believe it. and jack’s kind of sad too, an odd loneliness filling him at the thought of not having his brothers anymore, even if they’d never liked him back - maybe they could, if he kept trying - but he’s maybe glad too. he’ll have all of medda’s attention, even though he’d always had most of it because oscar and morris never wanted to join in. she’d still always been worrying about them. and she looks worried now, maybe more worried than ever, because she and jack both had been expecting some sort of outburst from the brothers at this news - oscar hitting and kicking and destroying, morris screaming and wailing. but instead oscar just looks cold, looks detached as he glares at medda and curls himself around morris, who’s crying quietly, and his understanding is clear.

they’re being abandoned again. they’re not loved, again. they don’t fit in here. they’re not wanted here. he was right to not trust medda, and he was right to keep morris close and protect him too. because everybody’s the same, and all the brothers will ever have is each other.

medda hates the system and hates the situation and hates herself for having to make this choice, because she knows the damage she’s just inflicted on these already brutalised boys is permanent now. and she wants so badly to keep them, but she can’t. she had considered just keeping morris, the quieter and less rough of the two boys who has never hurt jack (as far as she knows), but then she’d thought about oscar and morris being forcefully separated - thought about those tiny, tiny boys who’d first come to her and been unable to let go of each other - and almost made herself sick. it’s her only comfort, really - that they’ll have each other, still, no matter what happens.

jack continues to grow up under medda’s care, and he gets plenty of siblings over the years - who are kinder to him, and stay his siblings even after they leave medda’s care. antonio and sean and patrick and plenty of others. medda becomes mama somewhere along the line. jack goes to school, where he does his best and does okay, and he makes friends, and he visits his parents’ graves when he can, and he starts drawing and painting and flirting. he builds a life. he largely forgets about oscar and morris.

oscar and morris are sent to “the refuge” - a notorious low-rated care facility for at-risk and troubled youth in new york. wards of the state. they don’t go to school, and they fight everyone but each other, and they’re punished constantly and drilled into submission and stripped of everything they never even got to be. they’re taught they’re not worth anything, not anyone’s time or effort and certainly not their love. they’re all they’ve both got in the world and that’s the only thing they can both trust. oscar ages out age eighteen and pulls morris out with him, they move in with some estranged uncle who never wanted them and hardly wants them now, and they don’t build a life so much as they survive. same as they always have. and they never forget jack kelly.

[lecameleontv]

Captures de l'Ep. 1.02 : Chaque Tableau a son Histoire / Every Picture Tells a Story (1996) de la série Le Caméléon (V.O. : The Pretender).

Distribution : - William Sanderson, qui retrouvera Jon Gries dans l'Ep. 5.10 de la série LOST (2004) - Jacob Vargas, qui avait déjà rencontré Jon Gries dans le film Get Shorty (1995), et retrouvera Patrick Bauchau dans l'Ep. 1.06 de la série Les Experts : Manhattan; - Dennis Cokrum, qui retrouvera James Denton dans l'Ep. 6.05 de la série Desperate Housewives; - Michael Wyle, qui reviendra dans l'Ep. 4.20 de la série Le Caméléon (V.O. : The Pretender). - Elizabeth Heflin, qui avait déjà rencontré Jason Brooks dans l'Ep. 1.7871 (1996) du feuilleton Des jours et des Vies; - Stephanie Sawyer, qui avait déjà croisé Andrea Parker dans l'Ep. 2.07 (1995) de la série Urgences; ...

Jarod : "Salut, je m'appelle Jarod... ça va aller maintenant."

Mlle Parker : "Ce sont des esprits supérieurs mais tôt ou tard ils font des erreurs bêtes."

Sydney : "Inutile d'utiliser l'ascenseur. Trois étages à monter ce n'est pas la mort..."

Mlle Parker : "Cessez de me materner Sydney. Ca remonte à 20 ans, aujourd'hui je n'ai plus de problème avec cet ascenseur, c'est de l'histoire ancienne."

Mlle Parker : "Une seule chose reste incompréhensible pour moi ... pourquoi est-elle allée dans un ascenseur ... ? Un ascenseur, ça monte, ça descend... Mais ça ne va nulle part... C'est très petit une balle de 9mm mais celle-là a changé ma vie."

Sydney : "Je pourrais vous aider à tout oublier."

Mlle Parker : "... mhm... Très gentil mais dites-moi, ma mère avant de mourir, ma mère ne sortait-elle pas d'une séance de psychanalyse avec vous pour soigner sa dépression ? ... Non merci.... Je réussirai à oublier seule."

Jarod : "J'ai besoin de savoir si Jarod est mon véritable nom."

Sydney : "Je crois que oui. En tout cas, c'est ce qu'on m'a toujours dit."

Jarod : "..... Merci Sydney."

Sydney : "Ne raccroche pas ! ... Je m'inquiète pour toi."

Jarod : "Si vous êtes si préoccupé, pourquoi ne pas alerter les autorités ?"

Jarod : "C'est très intéressant ... Alors finalement il y a une usine qui fabrique jour après jour des étrons en plastique ?"

vendeur (blasé) : "Ouais. Mais eux ils appellent ça des crottes en plastique parce que crotte en plastique ça parle plus."

Jarod : "Ahen... Ce que je voudrai savoir c'est pourquoi on vous en achète, est-ce que vous le savez ?"

vendeur (blasé) : "Parce que c'est marrant ?"

Jarod : "Ahen..."

 Jarod : Est-ce que vous connaissez Mozart M. Abott ? ... La flûte enchantée ? [...] Quand j'étais petit j'ai eu l'autorisation d'écouter La Flûte Enchantée... Je fermais les yeux et ... j'étais vraiment aux anges... J'avais l'impression de ... d'être libéré de mes chaînes... Tout était agréable... Tout était possible... Avec Mozart on voit la vie différemment."

L'Ep. 2.17 poursuit la thématique de cet épisode, d'un autre point de vue...

source : imdb

Saison 1 : Épisodes 01 - 02 - 03 - 04 - 05 - 07 - 08 - 09  - 11 - 12 - 13 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 22. 

[nancypullen]

Don't Look For My Obituary

I'm not dead, I've just been consumed with making inventory for the upcoming artisan's market. Why did I decide to do this with so little time to prepare? And how do other women make a living at this? Who does their laundry, shops for groceries, cooks the meals, and cleans their homes? Every time I get into a creative groove and have my little system down, I have to drop everything for a domestic chore. I guess what I should be doing is daytime chores and nightly art making. I tend to shut it all down after cleaning up after dinner. By 7pm I don't want to do anything else. Anyyyyyway, that was my bonkers way of saying that I've been AWOL from the ol' blog because I've been in panic mode while cranking out earrings and cards. The earrings are so time consuming. I actually plan to prep some clay this afternoon for a pattern I really like - it involves a solid color of clay, acrylic paint, and some gold flake. Once it's blended and rolled into a log for slicing, it has to sit overnight. If I try to work with it without giving the paint time to completely dry it smears and ruins the whole batch (speaking from experience). Once it's dry I can slice it and roll it into a sheet for cutting. Then it has to be baked, drilled, topped with acrylic, and finally pieced together. The end result is worth it, but it's kind of a pain. BUT....with the exception of that little batch (that I don't really have to do), I'm just making a few extra cards. The cards are really fun for me. No mess, no big time commitment, and they make me giggle.

The glue is currently drying on those buttons , then I'll tidy up any extra ribbon or lace - snip, snip! I've done about fifteen different cards, with duplicates of each. Honestly, I may be wasting my time - does anyone buy cards anymore? I don't even know what to charge. Three dollars? Two? Here's a dry run with our booth colors, we'll have a second shorter table to make an L shape.

And I even have a Facebook page! I've only told a handful of people about this page, so here goes nothing!

So, there it is, the reason I have been incommunicado. I'm doing my best to do something I've never done before. I'm not sure I'm good at this. I'm not great at promoting myself and I really don't want to stand at a booth and watch my creations get rejected again and again. I'd much rather some wonderful boutique owner stop and say, "I love it all! I want it for my shop!" and I could just supply my silly goods to local businesses. I probably have a better chance of winning the lottery, so I'll be at my pink and orange booth on Saturday pretending that I'm fiiiiine with no one liking my items.

I should probably bring some emotional support brownies. I'm heading to my desk to make more cards, so if I owe you an email or a phone call, you have my most sincere and heartfelt apology. I swear I'll be back to (ab)normal after Saturday. Until then, please rub some beads, light a candle, ask the goddesses to show mercy on my crazy soul. I need all the help I can get. Sending out loads of love. Stay safe, stay well. XOXO, Nancy

[nimbasa-librarian]

A Pretty Good Birthday

This was her first birthday in Unova

And it would be the first one she’d ever spent by herself. 

Okay, not entirely by herself. Drew and Daniel had been up and about and trilling happily at her, affectionately bopping her on the head as if to wish her a very happy 29th birthday. 

“Thank ya, thank ya” she pushed them off with a smile, carefully getting ready for the day.

Her birthday wasn’t public information - she’d made sure to keep those records private when she took her new job - so thankfully, there wouldn’t be any celebration waiting for her at work.

She hated that stuff, the anxiety killed her. 

Putting on her long coat, she checked her Xtrans briefly. No messages.

It was still night in Galar. She was sure she’d at least hear from her mother and father. Maybe Denton if he wasn’t busy, perhaps even Milo. 

She didn’t linger on Piers for longer than she must. 

Ready for her day, she motioned her Yamasks behind her, and she was off. 

She was waiting in the station near Ingo when her Xtrans went off, the soft jingle indicating that her mother and father were reaching out 

Wasn’t it like, 5 AM over here? 

She lifted the Xtrans, answering the call, and was greeted with - 

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!” 

The poor woman nearly jumped out of her skin 

“Oh, Sweet and Merciful Yvetal-” 

“Happy birthday, Anya!” 

She huffed “Thank you, Ma. That was spirited of you” 

“I wanted to make sure I caught you before work and woke your father up at the same time - win-win!” 

“Sure” her father grumbled in the background “Happy birthday, Annie” 

“Thank’s Pa” 

Ingo tilted his head at the conversation, but said nothing. Anya was too focused on the call, trading pleasantries with her parents. Though Drew did notice him, and almost seemed to motion for Ingo to also say happy birthday. 

He was alarmingly cognizant, even for a Yamask. 

The call ended with Anya shutting her extrans with one of those exasperated sighs that you only give with family. 

Ingo cleared his throat. 

“Hm?” 

“It is your birthday today?” 

“Oh” She looked a bit sheepish “Uh, yeah’ She nodded, adjusting her bag “Ma an’ Pa wanted to say it before I went to work. I should be hearin’ from my brother soon too. Maybe a few friends” 

Milo. It was just going to be Milo. 

Ingo took a second, before tipping his hat to her “Well, A very happy birthday to you, friend. May you receive no challengers today” 

The slightly delighted surprise in her eyes was enough of a thank you, but she verbalized it “Ah, thank ya, Ingo.” 

The train pulled into the stated, Ingo returning into “work mode” “STAY BEHIND THE YELLOW LINE! STAND CLEAR OF THE CLOSING DOORS, PLEASE!” 

“Have a good day, Ingo!” She rushed out before running to get on the train before it got too full. 

The day had been relatively lax, with her work taking her to a very, very delicate rebinding of a 400 year old novel about Lugia. 

It was written in an ancient dialect of Kantonian - a part of her wished she could read it. 

Her lunch occurred, and - for her birthday - she decided to take herself out to a little cafe that made a mean cup of Galarian coffee. It was a treat! 

What she was not expecting was Elesa to already be there, holding up a cup. She was dressed to the nines, as always, and waved Anya down perhaps too excitedly

“A little Ingo told me it was your birthday!” She grinned as Anya approached “I know we just met a few weeks ago, but I was gonna drop this off at the library for you as a little present - win-win!” 

“Ah… oh uh, thank ye, Elesa. Tha’ was unexpected” 

“I was in the area, and I think Ingo said this is your first birthday in Unova, so it felt apt to reach out” Elesa shrugged it off “Oh uh, also, I don’t think that Emmet is going to try anything, but just be prepared. You might get an Xtran message asking if you have plans after work” 

Anya blinked. Her expression clearly showed she hadn’t been expecting that. 

“... You okay?” 

“Uh…. a little overwhelmed, if I’m honest. I was expectin’ t’just… have a normal day” She admitted, Drew seemed to scowl, and let out an annoyed noise “Don’ give me tha’!” 

Elesa chuckled “Well, you’re the one that befriended the subway bosses. Can’t have a boring birthday with them. Trust me. I know” 

“Yama!” Daniel floated over to Elesa, giving her a little bop on the head. 

“He’s sayin’ thanks f’r the coffee on mah behalf. He does tha’ sometimes” 

“Awww, you’re so sweet” 

Daniel beamed at the praise. Drew did not seem impressed

“Well” Elesa checked her Xtrans “I have to go, but I’m glad I was able to get that. Ingo says you like Glarian Coffee with cream, not milk, right? That’s what I got” 

“Ah… yes.. Thank you again, Elesa. I appreciate this” 

“Don’t even mention it. And Happy Birthday!” 

Elesa waved, and left Anya there with her coffee

Huh.

She did, in fact, get a message from Emmet - a voice one

“HELLO ANYA! Ingo has informed me that today is your birthday?? That is verrrrrry wonderful! Happy birthday!! Please let me know if you have plans for your evening! Please be advised that I am on the clock, and will respond to any of your messages when I have a free moment between passing trains!” 

Anya nervously huffed “... d’ya think I should accept what’ever they offer?” 

Both of her Yamasks - in a rare moment of absolute agreement - nodded and nuzzled her head in tandem 

“Ah- ah! Y’two always muss up m’hair!” She playfully chuckled, pushing them away. 

The pokemon just smiled and appreciated her affection 

“Y’r right… can’t make good friends if ye don’ let them give ya kindness, hm?” 

Drew nodded sagely

Anya sighed, and raised the Xtrans to her face “Hello Emmet. I don’ have any plans after work t’night.” She sent the message “Alrightie, le’s ge’ back t’the Lugia text. We’re barely halfway through the bind scrapin. We gotta get workin!” 

“Yama!” 

“Yama!” 

The rest of the day was rather calm as she worked. 

When on a break, she checked her phone, seeing a message from Ingo

“Emmet wishes to invite you to dinner for your birthday. There is an all-you-can-eat place by the ferris wheel that offers free specialty desserts for birthdays. Would you be interested? It would be our treat” 

Oh

Anya’s smile looked almost, sad 

“Heh, Drew.. Remember for my twenty-fifth, when Piers an’ I did tha’ all you can eat karaoke place?” She recalled, distantly “Bastard got us kicked out… I’d never had so much fun” 

No, don’t - don’t think about it. He was the one that pushed you away, you didn’t do anything

Drew seemed to sense her distress, and let out an indignant “Yama!” Before “bonk”-ing her in the head with his stone as lightly as he could, snapping her out of it. 

“Right, right, can’t linger on all that.” she huffed “Okay, alright, I’m gonna say yes” 

“Ya!” Daniel cheered.

Drew nodded in approval, and Anya chuckled with a shake of her head 

“You two, honestly” 

She messages Ingo back promptly, and returns to work. 

By the time the day was over, she had in fact heard from Milo, who sent her a lovely video message with a happy birthday from his pokemon team - a kind gesture, along with a promise that, in a few months time, he’d be making the trek to Unova, and that he’d be delighted to play catch up, and perhaps even try out her challenge. 

She’d been filled with such a fuzzy feeling in her chest at that message. He’d always been an attentive friend. 

But the surprise message was from… Marnie. 

How has the girl gotten her Xtrans number? Had Milo given it to her? Denton perhaps? He has messaged her a happy birthday, and told her to expect more messages. 

But there it was, a brief voice message, addressed to her from a communicator in Spikemuth with the subject line “From Marnie” 

She stood at the door of the archive, having just locked it, and opened the message

“Hi Anya. Long time no talk.. I’ll keep this brief, uh, happy birthday? Milo messaged Piers but Piers is out, so I thought you should at least hear from me” The girl's teenage nonchalance was evident. “I hope you’re enjoying Unova. You’re a battle boss there, right? Uh, congrats, by the way” 

Anya felt like she was going to choke 

“Just.. have a happy birthday, okay? I miss you” 

And it ended. 

Anya stared at her Xtrans for a moment, not moving as she stared at the now listened to message, the little bar glowing in completion 

She was jostled from her stare by Drew, who whined  as loudly as he could manage to get her attention 

“Oh-! Oh..” She rubbed her face “Sorry - sorry Drew. Thank ye” Daniel also whined, bumping into her arm 

“Right, right. I should… respond. Yes” 

Anya took a moment, before pressing the record button 

“Hello Marnie. I’s good t’hear from ya. Y’sound like y’r doin’ well. I am having’ a good birthday, thank ye f’r messagin’ me. I appreciate it… Tell y’r brother I said hi. Chat with ya again soon, ‘m sure” 

She sent it before she could delete it, and took a deep breath. 

“Okay… okay” She shut her eyes, taking a deep breath “Time for dinner. Le’s go meet wit’ the subway twins. Huh?” 

Drew nodded almost sagely, and Daniel went so far as to wrap his arms around one of hers, and pulled her towards the stairs and the exit. 

She let herself get dragged up the stairs, and as she looked outside, she saw Ingo and Emmet standing at the bottom of the library stairs, Ingo giving her a polite wave. Emmet caught the action and turned around, giving her a bright, bright smile 

“Hello Anya! Are you ready to have a verrrrrry happy birthday?” 

Her expression broke into a smile that seemed almost relieved. 

“Certainly” She nodded, making her way down the stairs “Let’s get goin’”

-

After Dinner

Commissioned art by @nartothelar​

[bitletsanddrabbles]

WIP What Do You Mean It’s Not Wednesday?

Right. So. This week has been Some Sort of Screwed Up between my Covid 19 booster last Friday taking me out for three blessed days, my writer’s group....not going well, and now being sent home two days in a row because S.L.O.W. which was relaxing (it wasn’t mandatory or anything, they just ask and I didn’t want to be there after everything else) but not as productive as I’d like.

And I can’t remember the last time I finished something and by God I want to finish something, but that’s not going to happen without going through the usual steps, so completely ignoring the fact it’s Friday which mean’s it’s not even the middle of my work week, I’m tossing up a brief snip from the second scene of the Thomas/Chris/Richard/Guy thing I shared last time. I’ve been working on it and it’s going well, I can just also feel myself starting to lose focus on it and....well.

I can, so there.

Have Thomas and Richard discussing what Guy is up to and why Thomas is on Richard’s sofa instead of a tropical beach right now.

“They have at least a couple more weeks, maybe longer. Depends on how things go. But I won’t be going at all this time, actually. Weissman’s producer, and that means Denton.” Without opening his eyes, he pulled a face. He could think of a thesaurus worth of words for Morris Weissman’s boy toy, but none of them were nice. Hell, even though everyone agreed he himself had no gaydar, he was willing to lay money that Henry Denton was actually straight and just stuck with Weissman because it got him roles. “Guy says he doesn’t want me on any island smaller than England with that man…preferably nothing smaller than Australia.”

“How big is Saipan?”

“A lot smaller than that. Although,” Thomas suddenly opened his eyes and squirmed far enough out of Richard’s arms to reach for his phone, “I have to show you the coconut crab he had for dinner last night.” He scrolled quickly through his messages and enlarged the attached picture. “You’re not going to believe this thing.”

Richard gave him a bemused look. “Tasty looking? I’ve never been a huge fan of coconut, but I can see it going well with dear merciful Christ what is that?”

[sleepy--siren]

Here are two pictures that look essentially the same. Had a job interview today I don’t know why the hell people are still having interviews during this crisis 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

[icedcortado]

i really truly did not think anything would top the mountain goats shows i went to in boston and austin in ‘15 but sunday night’s show in new york was the best one i’ve been to hands down and i’m going to be thinking about it for ages

[harrisonarchive]

George Harrison and Ringo Starr, Baltimore Civic Center, 13 September 1964. Photo: Morton Tadder Collection, Maryland Historical Society Library.

One of the myths surrounding The Beatles’ 1964 North American tour is an alleged visit by George Harrison to a typical American school. An investigation...

“BALTIMORE (AP) - It’s incredible, but a Beatle visited a school for girls and not a soul swooned. Sister Mary Michelle, principal of Mercy High School, said it was because the girls just couldn’t believe it was George Harrison. ‘They probably thought he was just another visitor,’ said the nun. 'He was sort of out of context to them.’ Harrison visited the school Monday [September 14] before the Beatles flew off to Pittsburgh after being 'in context’ at the Civic Center Sunday [September 13].” - The News, p 12, September 16, 1964

According to The Baltimore Sun’s discussion, one girl managed to sneak an autograph (so, if the story is true, not all girls couldn’t believe it was George):

“Phyllis Herz Procheska’s '65 account of former Beatle George Harrison’s visit to Mercy is featured in the book First & Forever: The Archdiocese of Baltimore - A People’s History

“George’s passing was announced over the PA during morning announcements on 30 November 2001, with a comment on the fact that George is considered the 'Mercy Beatle’ because of his visit… ”[W]e even have a little plaque over one of the water fountains that reads 'George Harrison drank from this water fountain when he visited Mercy High School.’“ - BeatleLinks Forum, 30 November 2001

Apparently George also visited Baltimore’s Leith Walk Elementary School:

“When the Beatles visited Baltimore as part of their 1964 tour, guitarist George Harrison wanted to visit an American school and was taken to Leith Walk. 'She [Ruth B. Miller, principal] refused to shake his hand and with that long hair, thought he was low-class,’ said Monroe Denton, a nephew and Brooklyn, N.Y., resident, laughing. 'Not long ago, she said, "You know, I wish I had shaken his hand. I regret that. He really was very nice.”’" - Baltimore Sun, 3 July 2002 (x)

"Harrison visited the school the day after his performance at the Civic Center. The founding principal of Mercy High, Sister Michelle Carroll, took him on a 30-minute tour. It marked the only known visit to an American high school by a member of the Beatles at the height of Beatlemania. 'My family and I have told the story many times of how my father met George Harrison, gave him a ride in our Chevy Covair, and brought him to Mercy High School,' said Daniel Wildberger, who is also an architect and a principal at Edge Architecture LLC. 'Everyone loved the Beatles. So, George’s visit to our Baltimore community meant everything to us.'" - CBS Baltimore, 15 September 2021

[findinghea]

Hello September!

  Ah, the heatscape of the summer is nearly behind us and if you’re celebrating back to school, I hope it goes smoothly for you and Happy Tuesday to the rest of us. This month I am going to do everything I can to get Josie and Ares off to beta readers and if the timing is on my side, maybe a Bandit Brothers surprise. I want to get back to Mercy’s Domme book so badly that it’s acting like my…

[eadun-duke]

[DENTON]: ❝ Is this a gift for me ? ❞ | ❝ You were my first kiss. ❞ | ❝ Nothing is stopping us from being together except you. ❞

❝ Is this a gift for me ? ❞  (denton)

Un bref sourire vient déformer le masque impassible d’Eden tandis que les mots de son fidèle serviteur lui parviennent. Il le connaît si bien. Le vampire laisse son regard se balader sur les liens qui entourent les poignets de leur prisonnier, empêchant toute tentative de fuite de sa part. Un vif sentiment de satisfaction gagne Eden alors que l’homme lui lance un regard implorant. Il souhaiterait surement pouvoir attirer sa clémence, sa compassion. Mais ce ne sont pas des choses que le vampire connaît encore. Ses yeux remplies de peur ne provoquent plutôt que le contraire chez lui. Il ne saurait pas exactement décrire le sentiment qui le traverse en voyant le désespoir de l’humain face à lui, mais il sait que c’est une vision agréable. Comme si l’ordre naturel de choses était respecté - maintenant que cet être misérable est à sa merci. Il s’agenouille à hauteur de son visage, du mépris imprimé dans ses prunelles claires. “Il est regrettable que nous n’ayons pas réussi à trouver un accord satisfaisant.” Déclare-t-il simplement, et sans plus d’égard pour lui Eden se tourne vers Denton à quelques mètres de lui. Il fait quelques pas en sa direction. Le sourire qu’il lui adresse est des plus charmeurs alors qu’il caresse doucement sa joue. “Il est tout à toi.” Les deux hommes n’ont pas besoin de se dire plus, ils savent tous les deux leurs rôles. Après tout, c’est une pièce qu’ils jouent et rejouent depuis plusieurs siècles. Le vampire s’éloigne finalement de la scène pour rejoindre sa voiture garé un peu plus loin. Il n’est pas dans son habitude de s’attarder lorsqu’une affaire tombe à l’eau. Il fait confiance à Denton pour règler le problème. “Ne sois pas en retard pour le diner.” Il déclare finalement alors qu’il entend le craquement des os de l’humain sous les coups de Denton. Quelques secondes s’écoulent alors qu’il prend finalement un temps pour l’observer avant de quitter la scène. La violence lui va à ravir. C’est de cette manière qu’il l’aime ; Brutal et guidé par les désirs de son maitre.

❝ You were my first kiss. ❞  (denton)

Le regard d'Eden reste vissé au loin pendant de longues minutes, presque dissocié du monde qui gravite autour de lui. La voix de Denton vient construire une passerelle fragile entre lui et le reste de son environnement. Pas assez pour lui permettre de s'ancrer réellement dans le moment, mais suffisante pour le maintenir à flot comme à chaque fois que sa mélancolie le plonge dans les ombres. Comme aujourd’hui, où il se laisse une nouvelle fois séduire par les abymes. Cela fait déjà des années que le temps qui passe n'a plus d'importance pour lui. Qu'il traverse les époques sans réellement se soucier des rencontres qu'il y fait ou des activités qu'il mène. Tout semble avoir la même saveur de vide. Sans s'arracher à sa torpeur, il glisse un regard à celui qui l'accompagne depuis tant d'années. Il a conscience que lui aussi a perdu le goût des émotions. Dans le fond, Eden s'en fiche pas mal – tant qu'il conserve sa dévotion dévorante pour lui. Aussi il se retourne pour lui faire face, caressant doucement son visage de ses mains. Geste qui aurait pu témoigner d'une certaine tendresse, s'il n'était pas baigné dans la froideur habituelle du vampire. « Je sais. » Répond il d'un ton neutre. Leur premier baiser lui semble si lointain. Il n'en ressent plus la chaleur et l'innocence qu'il représentait. Il n'en retire que ce besoin de s'assurer qu'il a toujours la même importance pour le démon. Qu'il est toujours au centre de son monde et que personne ne vient le concurrencer, de près ou de loin. Le vampire ne supporte pas ces moments de doute où il craint de le voir lui glisser entre les doigts. « C'est pour cela que tu m'appartiens. » Rajoute-t-il finalement alors que ses doigts viennent se crocheter à son cou. Ses lèvres s'écrasent brutalement sur celles du brun, dans un baiser essentiellement nourri par son envie de domination et du désespoir qu'elle permet de cacher. Rapprochant encore un peu plus leur deux corps, il resserre par la même occasion son emprise sur le brun. Denton est probablement la seule chose qu'il lui reste. Il n'acceptera pas qu'il se mette à vivre autrement que par lui.

❝ Nothing is stopping us from being together except you. ❞  (denton)

Le reproche à peine dissimulé de son ami arrache un sourire attendri au jeune Eadun. Loin de s'en offusquer, il continue plutôt son chemin dans les jardins du manoir, profitant de la caresse du soleil sur son visage. A quelques mètres, un banc en pierre se dessine à l'abri des regards, caché par les arbres et les fleurs. Le jeune duc s'y installe sans se départir de son enthousiasme. « Qu’est-ce-que tu es dramatique, Deandre. » Finit-il par répondre avec un léger rire taquin. Un léger mouvement de tête invite son compagnon à le rejoindre et ce dernier prend place à ses côtés. Eadun reprend d’un air faussement vexé. « Me servir au quotidien ne te suffit pas ? » Ses propos n'ont pas l'air de satisfaire le jeune homme qui détourne le regard. Il secoue faiblement la tête. « Ce n’est pas ce que j’ai dit, Eadun. » Son regard ne revient pas le chercher, martellant une douleur sourde dans la poitrine d’Eadun. Il ne sait pas bien s’y faire avec les sentiments. Il lui est déjà difficile de reconnaitre les siens sans qu’il ait à gérer ceux des autres. Le brun établit une distance entre eux dont il n’a que peu l’habitude. Les deux jeunes hommes ont toujours été très fusionnels, peut être même trop. Mais Eadun est plutôt du genre à préférer en avoir de trop que pas assez. Les centimètres grandissant entre son corps et celui de son valet commence à lui être insupportable. Il glisse sa main jusqu’à celle de Deandre, ses iris clairs scrutant la moindre réaction à ce geste. Son cerveau peine à trouver les bons mots pour apaiser son ami. Il manque de pratique dans ce domaine, surement parce qu’en général ses seuls intérêts l’importent. Mais c’est un peu différent aujourd’hui. Il ne s’agit pas de n’importe qui. Ces pensées se bousculent encore dans son esprit quand Deandre prend à nouveau la parole. « Oublie ça. Qu’est-ce-que tu souhaiterais faire aujourd’hui? » Un sourire s’installe sur les douces lèvres du brun, accompagnant sa question d’un vent de fraicheur. Eadun a pour autant conscience que le problème n’est pas résolu. Seulement il n’a aucune idée de comment résoudre ce genre de problème. Il ne peut pas demander à un serviteur de le faire pour lui. Il reste simplement reconnaissant à Deandre de mettre de côté le sujet pour l’instant. Il lui vole finalement un baiser, retrouvant sa fougue initiale. « Allons nous promener. »

[zorilleerrant]

Okay, I think I’ve got my list of characters for the Batfam Beyond AU!

Arguably canon characters:

John Grayson

Kent Wayne | Superboy

Martha Wayne | Batgirl

Tyler Zdarsky | Blue Hood

Holly Isley | White Mercy

Helena Kyle | Echo

Definitely OC’s:

Robynn Bennett | Discowing

Kitty Kane | Batwoman

William Grayson

Bruce Grayson

Esmerelda Riley-Wayne | Cassowary

Antonio Denton-Wayne | Nightjar

Summer Ambrose-Wayne | Shrike

Edison Hillary-Wayne | Cormorant

Violetta Whitney-Wayne | Egret

Hazel Carlton-Wayne | Warbler

Stephanie Dowd-Wayne | Green Robin

Wendy Dowd-Wayne | Yellow Robin

Henry Clover III | Kid Gotham

Harper Clover | Purple Bat

River Sun | Jade Rabbit

Heather Sun

Willow Sun

Devon Perez-Thomas | Lycan

Leslie Zdarsky

How am I going to keep track of all these people, you ask? It’s simple! I won’t! I am definitely going to forget about at least half of them! Anyway feel free to guess about their parentage and origin stories I’m excited about this AU.

[certusbiscuit]

Benjamin denton and mr jelly

Benjamin Denton

Not My Type | Alright | Cute | Adorable | Pretty | Gorgeous | LORD MERCY

Look I'm sorry, I love Benjamin sm.

Mr Jelly

Not My Type | Alright | Cute | Adorable | Pretty | Gorgeous | LORD MERCY

Look Mr Jelly is great and I love him but clowns mak me v. uncomfortable XD

[lecameleontv]

Captures de l'émission du 12 avril 2024 - Episode n°8 de l'émission Danse Avec les Stars, dernière avec l'acteur James Denton.

N° 8 ? ....

L'acteur a dansé un tango, sur une musique de cinéma qui lui rappelle des souvenirs avec son propre père, et a ainsi interprété le personnage James … Bond ! … comme un certain …. George Lazenby … et … Patrick Bauchau !!

Candice Pascale : "On dit toujours que James Bond est un héros mais pour moi, le vrai héros ici c'est toi. Tu t'es blessé au tout début de la compétition mais tu t'es accroché, tu n'as jamais abandonné, tu ne m'as jamais laissé tomber.' [...] Au cours des 13 dernières saisons, je n'ai jamais vu ça. Il ne s'arrête jamais, il est résilient, il y va, il ne lâche rien. Il danse chez lui, il s'entraîne chez lui, il m'envoie des vidéos".

James Denton :  "La dernière fois je répétais dans mon salon et j'ai vu par la fenêtre mon voisin qui était en train de me fixer en rigolant. Du coup, je me suis dit : 'Bon d'accord, il faut que je ferme les rideaux.'"

Les notes données ont nécessité le vote des téléspectateurs après avoir dû danser une seconde fois en face-à-face ...

... mais cela n'a pas suffit et a été éliminé de l'émission de danse à l'étape des quart de finale...

... ce qui va lui permettre de faire à plein temps le touriste en famille ^^ puisque ses enfants sont en vacances :)

Bilan de l'acteur à sa participation : "Oui, ravi, c’était vraiment une dose d’humilité, tout le monde était formidable avec moi. C’était très fun. (…) Je ne voulais pas partir, bien évidemment, mais je suis ravi pour tous ceux qui sont encore là. Merci pour tout, vraiment…"[...] "Je ne sais pas si mon corps aurait pu supporter une semaine de plus…". [...] "Vraiment, je ne peux pas partir sans remercier Candice. Chaque routine, elle l’a créée autour de mes infirmités, de mes blessures… C’était vraiment formidable de travailler avec elle, j’ai adoré toutes les chorégraphies. Je tiens à remercier tous les danseurs. Tout le monde a été vraiment très très gentil, tout le monde m’a beaucoup soutenu".

Réponse de sa danseuse professionnelle Candice Pascal : "Tu vois, James, c’est pour ça que je fais cette émission depuis treize ans maintenant. C’est pour des rencontres humaines comme toi. Merci encore, je veux te garder au plus profond de mon cœur ! Love you, la suite au prochain épisode".

Message de l'acteur à l'aéroport le 14 avril 2024 (ce qui ne signifie pas qu'il prend l'avion... il peut venir chercher qqn à ...^^) : "Je crois que c’est une bonne opportunité pour remercier tout le monde pour son soutien lors de cette folle aventure. J’espère que c’était aussi amusant à suivre que c’était amusant à faire ! Un grand merci à tout le monde dans l’émission et à vous tous qui l’avez suivie. Encore une fois, merci et à bientôt !".

Natasha St Pierre : "On sera tous là pour le prime 10." -> ???????? C'est à dire ???????

sources : @fabien_fichaux, @jmgenereux, programme-tv.net, snartsphotography, tvmag.lefigaro.fr, voici.fr et @DALS_TF1

Alias Mr Lyle dans la série Le Caméléon

[not-your-house-keeper-221b]

Because I'm evil: Harvey Denton. Geoff Tipps. Dean Tavoularis.

That is truly evil wow

Harvey denton- Not My Type | Alright | Cute | Adorable | Pretty | Gorgeous | LORD MERCY

I think its the ears and the way he acts like hes sweet but the obsession of his rules doesn’t work with me but he seems really chill to get on with

Geoff Tipps- Not My Type | Alright | Cute | Adorable | Pretty | Gorgeous | LORD MERCY

Deadass looks like a gremlin and that he smells i think iv seen a photo where reece didnt have the cheek padders in and it was a lil improvement

Dean Tavoularis - Not My Type | Alright | Cute | Adorable | Pretty | Gorgeous | LORD MERCY

So on the show its more just alright hes be good looking if it wasnt for the spots and the glasses so on stage when they do him live hes better but still not like popping but again he just seems so sweet

Thanks for asking ❤️