packed to the rafter

“The woodshed is packed to the rafters again…of course these little sticky beaks just had to check out what all the commotion was about! Hope your weekend is going well!


48 hours in Greater Fort Lauderdale

Fort Lauderdale is famed for its retro chic vibe and laid-back beach living, but many miss a trick by only exploring its best-known attractions. Greater Fort Lauderdale, nicknamed the Venice of America is home to 300 miles of inland waterways, plus 23 miles of Blue Wave certified beaches. Get the inside track with our 48-hour guide…

Day one

Settle in

With four flights a week between London Gatwick and Fort Lauderdale, whatever time you touch down, you’ll find something to do in the city. Drop your bags off at the sumptuous Diplomat Resort and Spa in the cool Hollywood Beach neighbourhood. If you fancy a quick sand fix, pop on your flip flops and head to pretty Dania Beach which is just 15 minutes’ drive from the airport. Afterwards head to Jimbo’s Sand Bar island-style tiki bar overlooking the intracoastal for their signature “redneck cuisine” and fresh seafood.

Day two

09.00 – Market vibes

Vintage cars on display, antiques and curio piled high, ripe for the haggling-on; the Florida Swap Shop sprawls over 88 acres and offers an indoor/outdoor mix of farmers’ and flea markets, bargain booths and traditional fairground attractions. Funky food trucks offer an assortment of cuisine spanning Thai to Puerto Rican, and the doors stay open until 5pm daily.

11.30 – Shore thing

Photo by webtop1 on Pixabay

While Hollywood beach is the Fort Lauderdale you see in the movies (such as Marley & Me) if less of a party beach appeals head for quiet, scenic Dr. Von D. Mizell-Eula Johnson state park beach, one of Greater Fort Lauderdale’s hidden secrets. Take the nature trail and look for adorable manatees in the canals. Snorkellers can explore shallow, vibrant coral reefs just offshore, or go hunting for an underwater geo-cache.

14.00 – Step back in time

See a slice of Old Florida at the 35-acre Bonnet House Museum and Gardens. The estate gives a fascinating glimpse of the Florida of the roaring twenties, when rich Chicagoans and New Yorkers first realised they could escape the brutal winter nor’easter winds and started a gold rush to south Florida. This eclectically-furnished Mediterranean revival house was the home of artist and art collector Frederic Clay Bartlett whose works, and that of his artist wife Evelyn Fortune Bartlett, are on display among pieces by Gauguin and Picasso.

17.00 – Arty Downtown

Photo by davyart on Pixabay

Banksy eat your heart out. As part of a revitalization project, Downtown Fort Lauderdale now boasts more than 20 curated murals from a wealth of artists including The London Police, Evoca1 and Logan Hicks, whose piece is a mind-blowing work of photo realism. On the third Saturday of each month, the Mural Project also offers free ArtWalk tours beginning at 18.00.

20.00 – Feast on this

Broward County is home to over 3,000 eateries meaning you’ll never go hungry. For fine waterfront dining, try Sardelli Italian Steakhouse set in a beautiful Italian country house-style building. Don’t miss the butternut squash mezzaluna pasta with sage, brown butter, and amaretti crumble. For a more casual bite grab hamburgers and a slice of Key Lime Pie at Le Tub Saloon – Oprah Winfrey is a fan.

Day three

08.00 – See you later Alligator 

Photo by patrick_worldwide on Pixabay

Florida wildlife abounds in the swampy Everglades, where native alligators mingle with escaped pet pythons. Just a 45-minute drive inland, Everglades Swamp Tours offers tours in airboats that float over the shallow reeds and picturesque marshland. The more adventurous can also explore by kayak.

14.00 – Retail therapy

Sawgrass Mills shopping centre, North America’s largest outlet mall, is packed to the rafters with chic. It’s the place to pick up designer shoes and handbags at a snip, with discount prices at the likes of Nordstrom and Bloomingdales. Head to the outside Oasis area for Cuban-inspired refreshments at mojitobar once you’re shopped out.

18.30 – All aboard

Photo by MemoryCatcher on Pixabay

An all-day pass on Fort Lauderdale’s water taxi system costs $26, but if you purchase a “moonlight madness” pass after 17.00, it’s just $16. Hop on and off along trendy Las Olas Boulevard and browse clothes, contemporary art and one-off pieces of jewellery, with prices geared to the owners of the smart canal-front mansions nearby.

Book flights to Fort Lauderdale 

Words by Ann Ridley and Ianthe Butt

Header Photo by Lance Asper on Unsplash


Originally posted by sevixxteen


Warnings: Mentions of blood and violence.

The small gym is packed to the rafters. Large men with shifty eyes and one hand firmly tucked inside their pockets, women with anxious eyes and one hand placed firmly over their hearts, meek men with bruised skin and one hand clutching a betting slip because their lives depend on it; they’re all together, they’re all waiting. And you’re sitting there among them, one hand gripping the silver chain around your neck and the other clutching the edge of your seat.

The copper tang of blood fills the air and mixes with the musk of men from fights past. You’re almost certain there’s a noxious cloud floating above the crowd from the cigarettes and the bottles scattered around the room. It’s a cesspool, filthy and disgusting, but you don’t dare move a muscle.

Members of the crowd are watching the entrances, waiting for the prize fighters to enter. The main event is all that’s left, all of the other men have bloodied their fists and earned their week’s salary. But your eyes are glued to the small blue stool in one corner of the ring.

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Misunderstandings - Kyle X Reader

****************************************************************************************************Requested by @wholockedcumberwumberCan you do an imagine in which reader is Kyle’s girlfriend and he only talks to Zoe at the party because he got into a fight with reader and she sees him talking to Zoe when she goes to try to apologize and since the party is so loud she doesn’t hear him telling Zoe how much he cares.


I honestly didn’t even want to go to the party. After just having the worst fight in the history of my relationship with Kyle, the last thing I wanted to do was wear some tight outfit and dance with a bunch of people I didn’t know and would probably never see again.

Still, my sorority friends insisted that I went with them to the point where it was easier to agree and go than to resist them and have to hear their complaints for the next week if I didn’t.

So I reluctantly got dressed in my favourite party outfit, a short maroon dress that flowed from the waist down and lacked sleeves back had a thick strap of fabric that wrapped the end of the throat. I paired it with white heels and a white purse, tied my hair up in a loose bun and I was finally ready to go.

“See? You look gorgeous,” my friend exclaims as I make my way into our communal area, “We are going to have so much fun!”

By the time we reach the party Kyle is barely a small thought in the back of my mind. We immediately make our way to the kitchen where we know, based on the sorority house we’re at, that there will be plenty of pizza available.


If it hadn’t been for my frat brothers I would never have gone out partying tonight. Y/N and I had been dating for a year and after the fight we had yesterday I really don’t know where we stand as a couple anymore. My frat brothers had noticed how sad I’d been and decided that a few drinks, ironic since I never drink when I’m out with them, was the best option to cheer me up.

I slowly peel off the shirt I’m wearing and replace it with my frat shirt, secretly hoping that if I move slowly enough, they will leave without me. But, much to my dismay, when I walk down the stairs to meet them, every single one of them is sat there waiting patiently for me so we can take the bus and leave.

When we arrive at the party, the house is already packed to the rafters, people standing in every available area of floor space as we squeeze our way through the packed hallway and I make an effort to immediately separate myself from my friends. I manage to push my way to a table, seating a massive ice sculpture and I find myself fixated on a face, standing on the other side of the table. Slowly she walks until we stand face to face.

“I’m Kyle.” I shout over the noise around us.

“I’m Zoe.” She shouts back, smiling flirtatiously.

An hour passes as we become completely absorbed in our conversation.

“You’re a really good guy Kyle.” Zoe starts, suddenly becoming sad in her eyes, “But I don’t think this is going to work out.”

“Oh no… I-I wasn’t looking for a relationship I have a girlfriend.” I blurt out, nervously attempting to find the right words to not humiliate her.

“Then why are you here alone?” she snaps, “And why are you talking to me?”


After a few hours, sitting in the kitchen turns to being a bore so I gather all of the energy I have left in me and find my way back into the main area of the house. Slowly I make my way to the stairs, desperate to find a place to sit until another loner walks over to start a conversation. But halfway there I stop dead in my tracks as I notice a familiar face. Kyle, smiling and quite obviously flirting with a tiny blonde girl who I had never seen before. Before I can turn he looks over and his face falls as he recognizes me and as he starts to walk over I turn and push my way out of the house and run to my car. Driving off before he can get close enough to open the door.

When I get home I immediately rush to the drawer where Kyle’s belongings that he left in my room and start throwing it into a duffle bag, ready to throw at him when I drive around to tell him we’re over. As I’m searching through his stuff I find a framed picture of us from our first date and burst into tears as I struggle to believe that he would actually cheat on me. As I’m huddled in my own tears, I hear the door open and footsteps creaking on the wood that lies underneath the carpeted floors.

“I knew I would regret giving you a key.” I snap, trying to disguise my voice to hide the sadness that runs through my tone.

“You don’t mean that.” Kyle whispers, almost as if he’s scared that speaking in a regular tone would break me into a million pieces, which in that moment was a possibility, “Can we just talk about this?”

“I thought we decided not to talk about things. Isn’t that why we fought in the first place?” I reply sullenly, turning to face him, “I knew we weren’t having the best of times together but how could you cheat on me so blatantly?”

“I wasn’t cheating on you,” he says, his eyes flickering to the ground, unable to meet mine, “I was just talking to a girl.”

“A girl who was practically salivating over you,” I say and he sighs, “I saw the way she looked at you, it was the way I looked at you when we met.”

“Will you just listen to me for a minute?” he almost shouts, attempting to control his temper. When I don’t respond he moves to sit on the bed, directly next to where I’m sitting but I move across slightly as to still keep my distance, “I didn’t cheat on you, and deep down I think you know that. We’ve been together for a long time and I’ve never lied to you or done anything to hurt your feelings… just tell me you believe me.”

“Then what would you call what the two of you were doing?” I ask, completely ignoring the last part of his sentence.

“Actually the exact moment you saw me was when I was telling her about how much I love you,” he answers and I flash him a look of disbelief, “No I’m being serious, she asked me why I was talking to her if I had a girlfriend and I told her all about you, about how much I love every little thing you do, about how I’m nothing without you.”

“I believe you.” I whisper and he smiles through a nervous laugh, taking my head in his hands and leaning forward until our foreheads touch.

“Thank you, let’s move past this, I love you so much.”  He mumbles so quickly I barely catch his words and for the first time in what feels like forever, I smile as I nod and our lips collide.

“Stay here tonight.” I whisper and he nods, smiling. I slide backwards and lay down and Kyle moves to do the same and lies down beside me, moving a strand of hair from my face before moving his arm to protectively lace around my waist. I smile, closing my eyes as I feel his lips touch my nose before he too closes his eyes and as the both of us fall asleep I can’t help but feel as if just this once, everything was going to turn out the way it should be and I fall into a deep sleep, my thoughts are filled with the our picture perfect happy ending.

Jacob Frye x Reader - No Longer Yours

A/N: I blame @mother-dove for the thought of this angsty piece. A small scene where Jacob Frye encounters his former (and formerly pregnant) wife, who became a Templar. {I guess this is sort of an alternate world in a sense, as Jacob is in his late 20s or so and Starrick is still alive}. Art piece is mine.

Rating: SFW {no warnings unless you count angst as one.}

Your name: submit What is this?

Jacob prayed he wouldn’t encounter her…the woman he loved and the woman who was pregnant with his child…

She had turned to the Templars—the very Crawford Starrick—to find reprieve from the Assassins she once had been apart of and fled from under Jacob’s tutelage for some years now.

All those years felt like they amounted to nothing…that their love was a lie. Yes, Jacob felt he was to blame for her losing the child she had from a prior tryst in her life, but did he deserve this? Did he deserve to, not only feel heavily to blame for the loss of an innocent boy, but lose the woman and the baby she carried that was to be a symbol of their love? Now, she was the enemy, and by order of the Council, she was to be eliminated on sight if she wasn’t expecting.

It had been months since he had seen her, and Jacob wasn’t sure what to think. Did she die giving birth? Did the child die, and (Y/N) was in grieving? Did they both die…? All of the negative thoughts that could weigh upon him heavily attempted to swamp him and cripple his aching heart all the more as Jacob remained in wait within the nearby factory Starrick had taken over again with a Blighter group.

Focus, Jacob, he thought to himself, trying to push the anxious feelings to the side at what had become of the woman he loved and the child he may never get to see or hold.

He had been asked to liberate the children there, but seeing those children merely prompted more painful thoughts about his own. His eyes narrowing, he saw a small pack of Blighters heading to where Jacob was roosting upon the rafters within the shadows, and now was a perfect time compared to any to let off some steam.

The three didn’t suspect it—Jacob falling from above as he unleashed his hidden blade upon the back of one and swiftly removed it to cut at the throat of another and then viciously slice the one remaining. Blood marring the floor and his features, Jacob moved the back of his hand to his face to remove it only to duck quickly when he heard a gunshot ring out in his direction.

Jacob wasn’t surprised. Blighters could have heard that noise as he was hardly discrete given how his mind and heart were elsewhere. Ducking out of sight of the gunshot, he hid behind one of the many pieces of machinery and fished for his own revolver, checking the bullets to notice he had enough before keeping it at the ready.

The footsteps were quiet—calm almost—as they got closer and closer to where he was. Jacob breathed quietly to himself, listening with caution beyond the bellows of the surrounding devices that nearly made it difficult to do so. Jacob knew if he waited for too long, this Blighter would get the drop on him, and so it was there he turned with his gun aimed and ready to fire only to stop and feel all color leave his face and the breath knocked from him at the sight of his enemy.

“(Y/N)…!” Jacob gasped, unable to believe what he saw before him.

Her face was cold, and she looked upon him as though he truly were the enemy that had come upon her territory. She wore the Templar badge with honor, it seemed by this point, and her stomach…was flat.

“This is what you’ve become?” Jacob asked, criticizing her choices as he kept the gun readied in case (God forbid) he had to use it. “I thought you aided the children of London, and now you’re their mistress in terms of slavery!” His hand shook angrily at the complete change that had overcome the woman he loved.

“Quiet,” she ordered, those eyes of hers becoming fiercer and firmer by the minute as she kept her stance, unwavering. “According to Master Starrick, we give these children a place to rest their weary heads for a moment, apposed to the cold and rainy weather that London has to offer—we give them money to—!”

“You’re killing them slowly!” Jacob interrupted irately, furious that she would dare talk of Starrick in such a way. The anger of such a thing turned into jealousy, and it was there his hand shook all the more, the Assassin motioning his gun off to the side with his features wrinkled in displeasure. “And how is ‘Master’ Starrick?” Jacob hissed the title as it was nothing but bile in his throat. “Leaning on him lately for the losses I’ve incurred upon you?”

“Stop it, Jacob!” (Y/N) demanded, her finger nearly threatening to pull the trigger on her gun in attempts to halt him from trying to bring up memories past.

“Where is our child, (Y/N)!” Jacob roared, his words vibrating about the metal work and overpowering the groaning of the machines.

She breathed in a slow and shaky breath, her stance changing into that of a near killer who wouldn’t care if she shot her former lover and watched him bleed out over the floor. “That is no longer your concern,” she whispered cruelly.

His heart began to race. Did she even have the child? Did the child actually die as he originally feared? The anxiousness swelling in his heart made Jacob threaten to shoot her in return as his face began to ache from the anger mixed with sadness that it expressed clearly there in the foggy and horribly lit factory. “Where is it, (Y/N)!” Jacob demanded to know once more, but as he continued to have this stare off with his former beloved, he saw something amiss on her that was his only clue:

She wasn’t wearing the shilling necklace he gave her anymore like she used to, even when she switched sides. But as he let his guard down at that realization, (Y/N) saw her chance and fired.

Jacob was able to react in time, but as he did so, the bullet grazed his right cheek, slicing the skin with a horrible burn and causing the blood to bubble forth and drip down his cheek and pool upon his chin. He moved against the machine his back was against to avoid the attack, urging himself quickly to escape to a nearby window (the one he used earlier to get in through) as he had lost his desire to kill the woman he loved as he loved her still.

When she fired again, Jacob nearly lost his composure in trying to do his leap of faith into the nearby haystack below. Falling completely off center, he did indeed hit the hay, but at a weird angle to which he felt his right shoulder take a pretty bad strike upon the wood of the cart.

Jacob remained out of sight in the hay, hoping (Y/N) wouldn’t continue her witch hunt. He saw her look out the window and down at where she knew he was hiding, and much to the Assassin’s relief, she only closed and locked the window to be sure to keep him out.

Jumping out of the hay and picking it out of his clothes and hair, Jacob breathed steadily as he rested his hand upon his badly bruised shoulder. “Bloody hell,” he grumbled, feeling the moisture in the air thicken till the rain began to fall heavily, dampening his clothing and making his stride even more difficult to make given the aching heaviness in his heart.

“That baby is somewhere…and I will find it…” Jacob murmured, determination prompting him to move onward and away from that fight for now. He would have to free the orphans later, but right now…he had a more important child to hunt for and free.



(Y/N) had desired to snuff out his name, but not all traces of him. This was why her removing the shilling necklace was shocking to Jacob. Even during her times with the Templars and being cradled by that bastard, Starrick, not once did (Y/N) remove it till lately.

Jacob had stayed in her shadows, followed her back to the throne of which Crawford Starrick himself sat proudly to oversee London and the many factories he had put into effect with his label on them. The mere thought of that man and the ideas that Starrick was wooing his beloved to comfort and brainwash her made Jacob furious. If his shoulder wasn’t bruised up and damn painful to move, he would try to assassinate the Master Templar again, but Jacob had to find his child first…if his assumptions were indeed true.

He stayed to the outside of the building, finding an open window of which to crawl through and sneakily make his way undetected through the decorative halls. Blighters were the least of his problems here…Templars were everywhere to be seen upon nearly every turn made. Jacob found relief in the fact it was night and raining, or else he would be in for a difficult time just trying to get through the window.

All the same, he had to be quiet. If he alerted just one Templar, Jacob would probably find himself at Starrick’s mercy. Even just murdering one would cause a problem unless he managed to find a good place to stash the body (and most of the rooms were locked and there were no places to do so in terms of hallway furniture), so the Assassin did his best to use his Eagle Vision to search the rooms within the main bedroom hall he found himself within.

Staying low to the ground and letting the thunder drown out any noise he could make with the added thunderous tapping of the rain on the building, Jacob found a room within the center of the west wing that appeared to have a newborn within it from what he could see with his vision. His heart beating wildly at the hopes it was his, he dug for his lock picks and upon unearthing them, began to pick the lock swiftly to get inside of the room. When he heard the satisfying click that he was in, Jacob pocketed them once more before urging himself within the bedroom, closing the door inaudibly behind him.

It was dark and only the lightning would grant him some form of sight within the bedroom that had a single bed in the center with a crib at the foot of it to which the child was resting peacefully as it were; regardless of the sounds coming from outside. Jacob took to his feet and hurried over to the baby’s bed, pulling his soaked hood from his face to not frighten the child and see if it was indeed his.

It was a baby, like any other, but what stood out to him was the necklace it wore—it was Jacob’s old possession he had given to (Y/N) to suffice as a wedding ring when he hadn’t the money to give her a proper one. A small gasp of a laugh escaped him in the quiet room—one of happiness and relief—as he bent down to pick up his child and notice, from the color choice, that it was a little boy.

The child was only two weeks old, and it showed alone in how he didn’t even move when touched upon by his father. Jacob hadn’t even a moment to realize he was putting himself in danger (or notice the sound of the door opening quietly), too engrossed in having a chance to hold his son for the first time. Cradling his son to his chest, Jacob smiled and kissed him upon his forehead. “Hey there, lad,” the Assassin whispered, “I’m your father.”

The sound of a gun clicking caught Jacob by surprised as did the voice of Crawford Starrick. “He was your son, Mr. Frye,” said the Master Templar calmly as he felt he had the upper hand in this situation. Regardless of Jacob fishing out his own revolver and threatening to fire in return, Starrick didn’t flinch. “Now, he is mine.”

Jacob growled, his hold upon his son tightening protectively, the lightning illuminating his aggressive expression. “Over my dead body,” he hissed through his clenched teeth.

“It will be,” responded Starrick rather kindly at the thought, most of his own form obscured by darkness to the common eye. The Master Templar’s face wrinkled curiously at Jacob’s bold actions. “You have nothing left. Mr. Frye. I have your former wife, and I have your son. Not only has your wife found reprieve within my embrace, but soon—your very son—will only see me as his father and will be hunting his actual father unknowingly in the years to come as the next Master Templar.”

That thought was the final straw to Jacob, and in that thunderous night, Jacob rang out multiple shots at Starrick angrily, tears blinding his vision as he yelled and alerted his presence foolishly to others nearby…

…and Starrick seemed to answer—with three or so of his own against the mentally wounded Assassin in hopes to end him.

Something Borrowed | HANSOL

Genre: library/college!au | i’ll drown you in fluff

Member: Hansol / Reader

Word Count: 2,600+

Warnings: mild language

Note: this is the product of me procrastinating my study and spending too much time in libraries. it’s short and sub-par, but i thought i’d post it to break the dry spell. i also have run out of hansol gifs he needs to comeback so there are more

Originally posted by yutsol

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Better late then never, here’s a little something for @rego-mem who requested number 43. “You did what?!” from the prompt list I posted about a thousand years ago… Hope you like it, lovely! (SFW, the break is only there because it’s pretty long.)

The Normandy was quiet, calm, peaceful.  Most of the crew were on the Citadel enjoying some shore leave, and all but three of those left on board had gone to bed.  Cortez was still up, working on some upgrades down in the shuttle bay, and Kaidan and Traynor were in the CIC going over some data she’d been compiling to present to Shepard. 

“This is excellent work, Traynor,” Kaidan smiled. “Neat, logical, efficient…Shepard will be impressed.”

“Oh…well, thank you,” Traynor said with a pleased, flushed smile.  “I hope so, I’d hate to waste his time.”

“This is anything but a waste of time,” Kaidan said, gesturing to her meticulous notes.  “Believe me, this is very impressive stuff.”

Traynor smiled and opened her mouth to speak, but at that momen Kaidan’s omnitool began to flash.

“It’s an incoming transmission from Garrus,” he frowned, glancing at Traynor as he began to back away.  “Please, excuse me.”

“Oh yes, of course,” Traynor called after him.

Kaidan walked into the elevator for some privacy before accepting the transmission.  “Garrus?  Is something wrong?  Is Shepard okay?”

“Peachy,” Garrus replied drily; Kaidan heard a burst of raucous laughter and shouting in the background.  “He, Vega and Donnelly have had far too much to drink but I expected that before we even started.”

“So what’s the problem?” Kaidan asked.

“Shepard says he won’t leave and go to bed unless you come to tuck him in.”

There was another eruption of laughter in the background and Kaidan heard Shepard’s voice distantly call, “Come get me, Alenko!”

“Really, Garrus?” Kaidan asked, half-smiling but also annoyed.  “All you had to do was stick with them, make sure they kept out of trouble.”

“And they’re not in any trouble,” Garrus replied, “but they will be soon if you don’t get down here.”

Kaidan sighed.  “If I leave the ship, Cortez will be the highest-ranking officer. What if there’s a galactic emergency?”

“If you don’t hurry up and get here so I can get some sleep,” Garrus said with exaggerated patience, “I’m going to murder Commander Shepard in cold blood.  How’s that for a galactic emergency?”

And so, twenty minutes later, having briefed Cortez and alerted EDI, Kaidan found himself striding through the Wards to a small, seedy club he’d never even known existed.  The bouncer eyed his Alliance uniform, his stony expression, and nodded him straight in.

The club was packed to the rafters, noisy and smoky, dark and humid, lights flashing and shadows whirling.  Kaidan could feel the bass of the music vibrating through his bones as he pushed through the crowd, heading to the lounge on the upper level where Garrus had said they were waiting; he already couldn’t wait to leave. When he got to the top of the stairs, a rising roar of laughter greeted him and he saw Garrus striding across, looking stern  but also a little relieved.

“Took you long enough – he’s all yours,” Garrus said, gesturing to where Shepard, Vega and Donnelly were propping each other up, laughing so hard Vega’s face was going purple.  “I’ll get the Doofus Twins back to the quarterhouse, but Shepard insists on sleeping in his own bed tonight.  Apparently he can’t sleep without watching the fish for a while.”

“Yeah, he does like to do that,” Kaidan said fondly, watching Shepard try and fail to zip up his hoodie three times in a row.  “Thanks for not abandoning him, Garrus.”

“I’d say it was my pleasure but I only lie when there’s no chance of being caught out,” Garrus said.  

Kaidan headed over to the others; he was a few paces away when Shepard spotted him, and the love and happiness that spread over his face made Kaidan’s chest tighten.  

“It’s you!” Shepard said, pointing to Kaidan.  Then he turned to the others, with only a slight sway in his step, and said, “Hey guys, it’s Kaidan!”

The others roared their approval and James shouted, “Shots to celebrate!”

“Ah, no – no more shots,” Kaidan said.  “Time for bed.”

“Aye, aye, Major,” Shepard said, attempting a seductive wink, and Kaidan had to laugh.

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anonymous asked:

i come with a scenario i came up with while half-asleep- jk overhearing jm singing 'my favorite things' from the sound of music (screw time periods) and fOR sOMe reASon thinks these are actually his favorite things. imagine jk in his tiny apartment tryna make apple strudel. imagine jk leaving massive copper kettles laying around the dressing room. imagine jk releasing a pack of geese into bangtan sound. imagine jk hanging from the rafters sprinkling white paper over jm's nose and eyelashes.

!! THIS IS SO CUTE OMG;;; Jungkook being an absolute sweetheart is my fave :’-(

anonymous asked:

Hi! I was wondering if you could write a fanfic about Barba and his teenage daughter, where she is the lead role in her school's musical, and she is nervous if Barba will be there ?

Originally posted by theatregeekly

“Look I know you’re really busy, but this is really important to me, I never thought I’d get to be the lead in this and having you here would-“

“Lucky, por favor, mi vida, I’ll be there. Just tell me when. What’s the musical?“

“Legally Blonde,“ she said with a deep breath.

Rafael couldn’t help but smirk as his daughter. “Gonna be playing a lawyer, hmm?”

“Yes, a very skilled lawyer. I should probably shadow a good lawyer for a few days to be safe. Can you call Rita?”

Rafael glared, “not funny.”

Lucy snickered as she walked over to him and hugged him. “I want you to see this musical, I’m gonna make you proud papi.”

“I’m always proud of you mijita, never forget that.“


Opening night was packed to the rafters. For a high school production of a musical, the turnout was unheard of. 

Rafael took a seat front row, smiling as he glanced politely in either direction to see if he recognized any parents. He didn’t. Most of them brought video cameras. Should he have done that? It was too late to cry over spilt milk now as the curtains opened and the show began.

Lucy shined like a star. He never doubted for a moment that she would. His sweet girl had the voice of an angel because she was an angel. His little angel. 

By the time the show ends hes standing up, clapping louder than any parent. Cheering as he watches her take a bow.

“The girl playing Elle Woods was quite the singer,“ he heard a voice from behind him say. He couldn’t help but turn around with a grin. 

“That’s my daughter,“ he said, chest swelling with pride. 

Macbeth draws Hollywood star Jai Courtney back to Australia

Simon Plant, Herald Sun

June 2, 2017 4:00pm

He has gone ballistic with Arnold Schwarzenegger, traded punches with Tom Cruise and played 
a comic book villain in Suicide Squad.

All good opportunities, says Jai Courtney. But the muscular Australian actor, who lives in Los Angeles, where “99 per cent’’ of his work is “centred around film stuff’’, was willing to drop everything when the Melbourne Theatre Company invited him to star in Shakespeare’s Macbeth. On stage. In Melbourne.

“I wasn’t prepared for the call,’’ Courtney says, between rehearsals in Southbank, “but I’m so glad I got asked. Doing this role, Macbeth, is demanding more of me than anything I’ve ever prepared for, film or otherwise.’’

The clincher for Courtney was director Simon Phillips, renowned for earlier award-winning MTC productions of Richard III and Hamlet.

“Simon is such a visual guy while understanding text so well,’’ he says. “I couldn’t wait to embark on the journey with him.’’

The casting feels right. Like Macbeth, Courtney has the air of a warrior. Even seated, the sleeves of his jumper rolled to reveal discreet tattoos, this former rugby player has a strong alpha male presence eminently suited to action hero roles.

“My sword skills? Yeah, I always keep ’em pretty sharp,’’ he says. But while “brave’’ Macbeth can “unseam’’ antagonists “from the nave to th’ chops’’, this decorated Scottish soldier is tormented as well — unhinged by “horrible imaginings’’ and destined to self-destruct.

Courtney — sporting stubble for the role — has relished plumbing those supernatural depths.

“Basically, his mind unravels,’’ he says. “He gives into the idea of chaos and is ultimately so steeped in the horrors of his own actions, the only way is to keep going — into the darkness.’’

In LA, home base for the past five years, Courtney is accustomed to playing scenes out of sequence. Has it been hard adapting to hard and fast run-throughs of Macbeth?

“No, mate. It’s been totally refreshing,” Courtney, 31, says.

“Your days are long (in Hollywood) but time on your feet is not always extensive. Whereas something like this, time just flies because of the relentless nature of the piece.

“Aside from anything, I’m stoked to be back on stage where I had my beginnings.’’

Raised on Sydney’s outskirts, young Jai was hellbent on sport — athletics, swimming, football — but this “rough and tumble’’ teen showed an aptitude for acting as well.

“When I got into drama school (in Perth), my ambition was just to be in the theatre. 
I didn’t really know much about TV or film at all but growing up, and getting comfortable with my identity, I was prepared to dig in and do that. Fortunately I got some traction.’’

Bit parts in local TV drama (All Saints, Packed to the Rafters) paved the way for a role 
in US cable series Spartacus: Blood and Sand.

Hollywood beckoned, so Courtney crossed the Pacific and muscled up for a string of macho movies: Jack Reacher (2012), A Good Day to Die Hard (2013) and Terminator Genisys (2015).

In between, there was an Australian film — Russell Crowe’s The Water Diviner (2014), where Courtney played an Anzac officer.

“I’ve had moments in my short career where it’s felt like you need to ride the momentum of something,’’ he says. “There have been other times when I’ve been exhausted by the industry. That’s when you take a deep breath and recharge. You’re not going to make better work by burning yourself out.’’

Does he have a five-year plan?

“Not at all. Never have. Sometimes you finish a job and are left scratching your head. Other times you’re in the fortunate position of knowing what’s next.’’

Next up for Courtney is Storm Boy, a retelling of the classic 1976 film where his
co-star will be Geoffrey Rush.

“The script has all the heart and soul of the film we know,’’ he says, “but re-imagines it in 
a beautiful way.’’

Courtney’s role of a grieving father, guarding his son on a remote coastline, may be worlds away from Macbeth’s blasted heath, but he says, “I don’t think any actor serves himself 
well by putting on too many limitations.’’

“To me, its always about growing and playing in a space that’s unfamiliar. When things get too familiar, they get comfortable and when you’re comfortable you’re not learning any more.’’

Would he do a West End farce?

“If the script was good, yeah.’’

Animation voicework?

“That’s come along. I’m going to be doing that.’’

Surely Courtney keeps a list of preferred film directors in his back pocket …

“Nah. But, you know what? If Martin Scorsese called, I reckon he’d be able to twist my arm.’’

Macbeth directed by Scorsese … that’s a thought?

“Yeah. Outrageous. No doubt

A tiny SVTHSA drabble in which Bram explores the idea of people being like houses.

It is a scary thing to open the door to your very soul, to let someone peer into all the rooms that make you who you are—even the one packed to the rafters with secrets that you carefully covered with white sheets at some point in your life. But scary as it is, Simon Spier and his beaming smile make Bram want to do it over and over again. If you look to your left, you’ll see my childhood dreams and a list of all the superpowers I wish I had. Excuse the mess, I spilled some of my fears on the carpet last night. Oh, there’s a big, big room with your name carved on the door, and it hasn’t always been here, but it has become one of my favorites.

Somewhere in a chamber close to Bram’s heart there is a pile of late-night thoughts, and somewhere in that pile there is a poetry book he has yet to write about how easy it was for him to fall in love with Simon, a jumble of verses about his moon-grey eyes and the way his face lights up every time he learns something new about Bram and the fact that he always happens to laugh a little louder at Bram’s favorite parts of whatever funny story Bram may be telling him. Someday he will give Simon the keys to that corner of his soul, too, and he will try not to stumble over his words when he reads the dedication page of his own book out loud.

To Simon. Thank you for always being so careful with the most fragile parts of me.


“I did a couple of soaps in Australia and there was definitely a difference between doing a soap and doing something like The Secret Circle. I guess just in terms of differences, it’s really like how many more cooks are there in the kitchen. Like in Australia you have your director, your producer, and maybe some of the investors who have a say in everything. Whereas on this show there’s a lot of people that have a say in things like what our characters wear, how they speak. I think that’s the biggest difference.”