#dick king-smith
Text
A list of books I have read this year. Will reblog everytime I update as I read more. Doing this a a bit of fun and to hopefully motive myself to read a bit more like I used to.
(I would like to state that I do not share/approve of the views or opinions of a certain author on this list. I just enjoy the books and won't let some poor excuse of a human being ruin them for me.)
First time reading | Reread
Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone - J.K.Rowling
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets- J.K.Rowling
The Sheep-Pig - Dick King-Smith
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban - J.K.Rowling
Cirque Du Freak - Darren Shan
The Vampire's Assistant - Darren Shan
Tunnels of Blood - Darren Shan
The Tale of Peter Rabbit - Beatrix Potter
The Tale of Squirrel Nutkin - Beatrix Potter
The Tailor of Gloucester - Beatrix Potter
The Tale of Benjamin Bunny - Beatrix Potter
The Tale of Two Bad Mice - Beatrix Potter
The Tale of Mrs Tiggy-Winkle - Beatrix Potter
The Tale of The Pie and The Patty-Pan - Beatrix Potter
The Tale of Mr. Jeremy Fisher - Beatrix Potter
The Story of a Fierce Bad Rabbit - Beatrix Potter
The Story of Miss Moppet - Beatrix Potter
The Tale of Tom Kitten - Beatrix Potter
The Tale of Jemima Puddle Duck - Beatrix Potter
The Tale of Samuel Whiskers or the Roly-Poly Pudding - Beatrix Potter
The Tale of The Flopsy Bunnies - Beatrix Potter
The Tale of Ginger and Pickles - Beatrix Potter
The Tale of Mrs Tittlemouse - Beatrix Potter
The Tale of Timmy Tiptoes - Beatrix Potter
The Tale of Mr. Tod - Beatrix Potter
The Tale of Pigling Bland - Beatrix Potter
The Tale of Johnny Town-Mouse - Beatrix Potter
The Tale of Little Pig Robinson - Beatrix Potter
Appley Dapply's Nursery Rhymes - Beatrix Potter
Celily Parsley's Nursery Rhymes - Beatrix Potter
Winnie-the-Pooh and some Bees - A.A.Milne
Pooh Goes Visiting & Pooh and Piglet nearly catch a Woozle - A.A.Milne
Owl becomes and author - A.A.Milne
Eeyore has a birthday - A.A.Milne
Kanga and Baby Roo Come to the Forest - A.A.Milne
An Expotition to the North Pole - A.A.Milne
Piglet is entirely surrounded by water - A.A.Milne
Christopher Robin gives a Party - A.A.Milne
Eeyore loses a tail - A.A.Milne
A House is Built at Pooh Corner - A.A.Milne
Tigger comes to the Forest - A.A.Milne
A Search is organdized - A.A.Milne
Tiggers don't climb trees - A.A.Milne
Rabbit has a busy day - A.A.Milne
Pooh invents a new game - A.A.Milne
Tigger is unbounced - A.A.Milne
Piglet does a very grand thing - A.A.Milne
Eeyore finds the Wolery - A.A.Milne
Christopher Robin and Pooh come to an enchanted place - A.A.Milne
Pooh's Poems - A.A.Milne
Christopher Robin returns to the Forest - David Benedictus
The Spelling Bee - David Benedictus
Rabbit organises almost everything - David Benedictus
It Stops raining for ever - David Benedictus
Pooh goes in search of honey - David Benedictus
Owl becomes an author - David Benedictusk
Everybody learns something - David Benedictus
The Game of Cricket - David Benedictus
Tigger Dreams of Africa - David Benedictus
The Harvest Festival - David Benedictus
Yellow Submarine - The Beatles
The Answer - Rebecca Sugar
Guide to the Crystal Gems - Rebecca Sugar
Keep Beach City Weird - Matt Burnett and Ben Levin
Young Zaphod Plays It Safe - Douglas Adams
Vampire Mountain - Darren Shan
Trials of Death - Darren Shan
The Vampire Prince - Darren Shan
Coraline - Neil Gaiman
Cycle of the Werewolf - Stephen King
#mysteryofarkhamasylum#books#reading#cirque du freak#the saga of darren shan#darren shan#the world of beatrix potter#beatrix potter#winnie-the-pooh#a.a. milne#david benedictus#harry potter#j.k. rowling#yellow submarine#the beatles#the answer#rebecca sugar#guide to the crystal gems#keep beach city weird#matt burnett and ben levin#young zaphod plays it safe#douglas adams#the sheep-pig#dick king-smith#coraline#neil gaiman#cycle of the werewolf#stephen king
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
Books On Books Collection - Catherine Macorol
A is for Axolotl (2022)
A is for Axolotl: An Unusual Animal ABC (2022) Catherine Macorol Casebound laminated cover with dustjacket. H230 x W290 mm. 32 pages. Acquired from Saint Bookstore, 28 May 2023. Photos: Books On Books Collection.
Unfortunately climate change makes possible a sub-collection of abecedaries on the subject of endangered animals. Since Dick King-Smith and Quentin Blake’s…
View On WordPress
0 notes
Text
Cover illustration by: Diane Voyajolu
This artist clearly wasn't briefed on the story beyond the title and "kid has a parrot", but damn if it isn't evocative. Paperback artists should get their names on the cover, not hidden down by the ISBN. No kid would have shelled out for this at the book fair if it weren't for this leering little creep getting weird with his bird.
🦜 ♟️ 👁️ 👄 👁️ 🤦♀️
#a dell yearling book#ya fiction#classic ya#80s#paperback covers#pure madness#harry#misleading titles#book fair#book sale#scholastic#scholastic book fair#chess with a parrot is the true psychopathy test#vintage paperbacks#vintage childrens books#babe pig in the city#dick king-smith#i wonder how he's doing#also wrote babe#probably living well#high on the hog
0 notes
Text
Some more children’s books my mum got yesterday!
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Who else thinks Fly forgave her mate WAY too quickly, for physically attacking her? And it’s not like he attacked her in self defense.
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
robert era westeros dashboard simulation
🫁 maidenless
JON ARRYN DEAD 🦀🦀🦀
🐉 rhaegarsvalyria—deactivated
imagine you are lost targaryen princess danaerys marrying your dear brother, prince viserys targaryen 🤍👰🏼♀️
📜 citadelscribe
deactivated… king robert got them
🐺 starkupdates
if you don’t speak politics ned’s basically saying ‘not this time, cunt - papa wolf ned isn’t letting you fuck with his pack. while we’re at it, you’re a terrible jouster, bitch!’ to jaime lannister. who else is doing it like him!!
🥘 bowlofbrown
crying at this they’re both lords they DO NOT care if you live or die. what’s wrong with you people
🌞 bowedbentbroken
aren’t their families literally intermarrying
🪵 riverlandspussy
serfs would stan a dog if it was landed
🐊 lizardlion
bracken dick would be good if they didn’t talk about how much better they fuck than the blackwoods the entire time
🌳 oldegodluvrr
why house blackwood stays 🔛🔝
🗝 livesbythefingers
i have terrible news about what blackwoods also talk about during sex
🔥 melisandre
the red represents projected support for STANNIS BARATHEON - king robert’s once and future HEIR
🦑 saltmalewife
shitting myself at this
🐦 muttonmouthed
stannis there’s doubts near the bloody gate watch out !!
💘 luckylikestcriston
🎭 silkyourstreet
every so often someone accidentally reinvents the fourth council of baelor
🦀 celtigwhore
how is crone not sweeping do you people hate women
🫁 maidenless
JON ARRYN STILL DEAD 🦀🦀��
🐴 littlestfrey
why are we celebrating? what did he do? /gen
📜 citadelscribe
known cuckold
🌞 bowedbentbroken
do you think littlefinger and varys ever no i shan’t say
🪸 patchpatchpatchface
on earth, the lords eat roast, and the peasants gruel !! in hell, the lords eat gruel, and the peasants roast !!
🪨 dragonstoner
another patchface banger
🦑 saltmalewife
the man cannot miss
#asoiaf#a song of ice and fire#robert baratheon#stannis baratheon#melisandre#ned stark#jaime lannister#patchface
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Take Me Home - Part 1
Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader
Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from.
AN: Welcome to my first ever Big Sky series! I’ve been wanting to get to this for a while now. I’m so glad I finally get to start sharing this with you! I truly hope you enjoy the ride. (Note: This is set towards the beginning of season 3.)
Song Inspo: “Fly Away” by John Denver. And remember, you can listen to the full Take Me Home Playlist ⬅️ here.
Word Count: 4,400
Tags/Warnings: A bit of angst, a bit of setup, “Glamper Girl,” and a side helping of cops enjoying baked goods…
❤️ Series Masterlist
Part 1: All of Her Days
“This really feels like cheating,” you mused.
Yet again, you surveyed the sheer size and luxury of this tent you were supposed to be “camping” in.
Between the giant king-sized bed with crème and burgundy comforters, a two-seater dining table, a dresser (with a vanity), and even a small bookshelf, it looked like the Taj Mahal of glamping.
“Can’t you just enjoy it?” your best friend replied, poking a teasing finger into your side. She smirked when you flinched and gave her some playful side-eye. “My parents are the ones footing the bill, anyway.”
“Of which, I intend to pay them back for my half,” you said. Mary just rolled her eyes and waved you off. Her parents’ money was something she’d never had a problem spending.
“Come on, they’re getting ready to go on the hike without us,” she said, tossing her little purse over her shoulder. You were a bit more practical with your backpack, filled with a bottle of water, a couple snacks, bug spray, and your sketch pad.
Mary bumped your shoulder with hers as you two walked out of the tent, and you gave her a smile. You were glad she insisted on this little week-long excursion. It gave you exactly five more days to enjoy the fresh air of no responsibilities, before you returned to reality.
“So where are you guys from?” you asked a couple of walking companions on the early-morning hike.
The woods of Helena, Montana were vast and deep, and you found them a bit intimidating. You were a city girl, through and through, but you were learning to appreciate the mountains and the steep trails flanked by dense trees. You were also grateful that you weren’t alone.
Emily seemed to be a nice girl around sixteen, while her stepfather Avery was a lightly graying man in his 40s. You pegged his accent as English, the “casual posh” kind. On a scale from Dame Maggie Smith to Dick Van Dyke's attempt at cockney, you’d put Avery on a Benedict Cumberbatch level.
“Well, I met her mother in Houston,” Avery replied, nodding at the girl beside you. “She and Emily joined me here in Helena after we were married this past spring.”
Emily confirmed with a nod. “Yep, starting school here in a few months.”
At that, you could smile. “Me too, actually.”
Emily gave you a confused look while she fiddled with an app on her phone.
“What? You’re still in school?” she asked.
“No,” you laughed. “I’m—”
“She’s a college professor,” Mary tacked on. “AKA: a giant nerd.”
Emily tried not to smile at your expense. You just shook your head at your friend.
“Thanks,” you said wryly, despite your amusement. “We can’t all be personal trainers. One can only take so much Spandex.”
Mary rolled her eyes and prepared to fire back a retort, but your attention shifted back to Emily, who seemed to be debating whether to press a red button on her phone. You thought it looked like a voice recording app.
You followed her line of vision and saw Paige and Luke up ahead—a young “happy couple” here at Sunny Day Excursions. They were whisper-yelling at each other, sniping something about Luke’s birthday. Apparently, he had a problem with getting another year older.
Don’t we all, you thought, with no small amount of sarcasm. The guy had been a sour apple since the start of this trip, and to be honest, he was starting to get on your damn nerves.
“This is like, prime time stuff for my podcast,” Emily whispered.
You looked over at her. “Oh yeah? What’s your podcast about?”
“Relationships, lies, that sort of thing,” she replied.
You almost grimaced. Good luck finding willing subjects for that one.
Mary snickered on your other side. She leaned close to your ear so only you would hear.
“God, Paige’s voice is so effing annoying. Like a chipmunk on helium,” she said. “I feel sorry for him.”
You shot her a dry look. “He’s the one asking for it, if you ask me. But they’ve been going at it the whole time. Makes me feel sorry for both of them.”
You shook your head and kept walking on the trail. Mary sobered as she stared back at you. She was reminded of why you two were really here, and what you’d been through this past year…
What you all had been through.
You and Mary fell behind Avery and Emily on the trail, giving Mary the opportunity to touch your arm and stop you in the middle of the trail.
“Do you really plan to stay here?” she asked. “In dusty-ass Montana? With the snakes and the bears and the old hicks?”
“Well, I got the key to my apartment before we got here,” you said. And she knew that. “My aunt is letting me crash with her until the rest of my things ship over in a couple of weeks, and I start a new job in the fall. So yeah, I’m staying.”
Mary’s lips pursed. She gave you a long look, but you held your ground. You even popped your Airpods in for good measure. You were done with this conversation.
She huffed and kept walking.
You watched your friend go in annoyance. You knew she would try to talk you out of your decision at some point on this trip, but you hadn’t expected it to be so soon.
Heaving a sigh, you looked up at the clear sky above you, filtered through the tall trees. You took a moment to collect yourself in this great big no man’s land, where you could finally let yourself slow down for a minute, and breathe.
You raised the volume in your Airpods when a particular song came through.
“All of her days have gone soft and cloudy. All of her dreams have gone dry,” crooned the soft melody. You nodded to the rhythm of the mellow notes, but all the while, you tried to blink through the sting of tears.
“All of her nights have gone sad and shady. She's getting ready to fly…”
You rubbed your left hand, where you still had the tan line of the ring you used to wear.
“It’s really okay, sweetie,” Mary tried to console you, rubbing her hand between your shoulders.
After the hike, you all had returned to camp and sat down to brunch. It was an amazing spread, with waffles and muffins and Danishes, eggs done three different ways, toast with jam, assorted sandwiches, coffee and orange juice (and sparkling wine for the adults).
But even with a huge plate of appetizing food in front of you, you were sulking a bit. You had your face covered by your hands as you rested your elbows on the table.
“One of my only goals on this trip was to ride a damn horse, and I couldn’t even do that,” you said.
Sunny Barnes and her husband Buck were the heads and hosts of this whole trip. And after the hike, their son, Cormack, had tried to help you onto the nice chestnut mare the handler had brought out of the stable for you. But your entire body had locked up in fear at the prospect of being vaulted onto the horse.
In fairness, she was huge. And you were both afraid of heights, and animals that could buck you off its back and trample you.
You hadn’t been able to speak. You just shook your head vigorously every time Cormack asked you if you were okay.
So he’d graciously patted your back and gave the mare to Emily instead.
“I’ve never been able to ride a horse either,” Avery offered in commiseration. You lowered your hands and gave him a wan smile.
Emily was carving an apple with an impressive (and somewhat scary) looking pocketknife. She shrugged.
“It’s not so hard,” she said. But, perhaps realizing how she sounded, she looked up and gave you an apologetic look. “Sorry. I mean, I’m sure you’ll get it! It’s hard in the beginning, but once you get used to it, it’s like riding a bike.”
Right. A bike with hooves, you thought, ripping a piece of bread from your egg and cheese sandwich.
Mary bumped your shoulder with a teasing smile. “You just got showed up by a high schooler. Again.”
You pursed your lips in amusement. You tossed the piece of bread. It hit her dead between the eyes. You giggled at the way she jumped with a start.
“Real mature,” she shot back.
“Yeah,” you replied, taking a giant bite of your sandwich for good measure. “I learned from you.”
Even Emily snickered, making Mary roll her eyes in amusement.
Shortly after, Avery and his stepdaughter were finished with brunch and got up to get back to their tents.
You glanced over and noticed that Emily had left her knife on the table, now closed in its sheath.
Sheriff Beau Arlen may have still been relatively new in town, but he considered himself a consummate professional.
He’d agreed to accompany Cassie, the local private investigator (and his friend), up to this mountain pass to look for a missing backpacker. Questioning Buck and Sunny Barnes and their crew was just good old-fashioned, thorough police work.
But if it also gave Beau a chance to check on his daughter up here “glamping” with her half-baked stepfather, then he couldn’t pass up on that opportunity, now could he?
After talking to Buck and Sunny, who hadn’t seen hide or hair of the backpacker, Beau let Cassie take care of questioning Cormack Barnes while Beau found his daughter outside her tent. After giving her a big hug and inspecting her “tent” (Really? he thought. Looks more like a hotel room than a tent.), he asked her how her trip was going so far.
“Good, Dad. But you really didn’t have to come all the way out here just to check up on me,” Emily said. She was amused, but no longer surprised to see him.
“No, no, no. I didn’t, okay?” Beau refuted. Though at the look on her face, he knew he wasn’t fooling her. She was a sharp kid. “All right, maybe not the only reason. We had to talk to Sunny about a missing backpacker. It’s something Cassie’s investigating.”
Emily’s amusement faded into surprise, and then concern.
“Wait, what?” she said.
“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing. Just, you know…parents probably didn’t get the memo that ‘off-the-grid’ was part of the deal,” he said, giving her a meaningful raise of his brows. Maybe his daughter didn’t have to screen so many of his calls while she was on this trip.
“Overprotective parents, huh?” Emily dryly remarked.
“The worst,” Beau agreed, shaking his head.
But he smiled. Just seeing her made his whole week better…and it alleviated some of the hurt in his heart. Not getting to be with her on a trip like this stung. And knowing Avery was the one who got to be there for her grated on him.
Beau was already missing too much of his daughter’s life, and he still wasn’t too sure on how to deal with that.
Speak of the devil, he thought. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Avery approaching. Beau forced himself to look as close to pleasant as he could get around his ex-wife’s husband.
While Mary went back to the tent to freshen up, you grabbed Emily’s pocketknife and went to look for her so you could return it. It had a wood-carved hilt and had her initials, E. A., engraved on the side. The knife looked special, not the kind of thing you wanted to lose.
You found her outside her tent with her stepfather, and a man you didn’t know. He had broad shoulders and short brown hair that swept above his brow. When he turned to look at you, the first thing you noticed was the cut of his bearded chin, and then the green of his eyes.
You didn’t realize it, but your insides stilled, just for a moment. Then you remembered to smile.
Avery looked a bit tense, as did the newcomer. You sensed you were interrupting a tete-a-tete.
“Uh, hi. I’m sorry,” you said, and extended the sheathed knife toward Emily. “Just wanted to get this back to you. You left it at the table.”
“Oh! Thanks,” Emily said gratefully.
“Well, hi there,” said the new guy. He was tall, you noted, wearing a beige jacket over a buttoned-down shirt, some jeans, and boots. It was a casual look, but all worked very well for him…in a rugged cowboy sense.
“This is my dad,” Emily supplied.
“Sheriff Beau Arlen, ma’am,” he said, giving you a more friendly smile that you matched in kind when you shook his hand. You also gave him your name to go along with it.
“You here for a little belated vacation, Sheriff?” you added.
“No. Matter of fact, I’m here on police business,” he replied. That concerned you, but he was quick to wave a dismissive hand. “Everything’s okay here. Just checking on a missing backpacker. But it looks like we’ll have to continue our search for him elsewhere.”
You hummed at that in concern. “Well, I hope you find him.”
“I do too,” he agreed with a nod.
Then, Emily took the slight pause in the conversation as her chance to escape.
“Okay, Dad, well, we’re gonna go hike down to the lake,” she said, gesturing at Avery. “But as you can see, I’m fine. We’re fine.”
Beau’s smile became a bit tight, but he nodded in understanding. He gave her a big hug, and you could see he was reluctant to let her go. Avery stood behind them. He held tension in his shoulders. You felt a bit awkward yourself, being in the midst of what was clearly an uneasy family dynamic.
Beau released his daughter. After she took off with Avery following close behind, Beau turned to you next. You tried not to blush at the sight of his handsome face.
“Sorry, again,” you said, raising a placating hand. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”
His lips twitched upward, and he shook his head. “You’re fine. Though you don’t look like a local. You from outta town?”
I could say the same thing about you, cowboy, you thought. There was a slight southern drawl in his voice that sounded like Alabama. Maybe Texas?
“You got me,” you nodded. “I’m from Chicago originally, but…I’ve actually just moved here to Helena.”
“Ahh, a city girl,” he remarked. “Small world. I just got here a few months ago myself. Houston, Texas.”
Your smile brightened. Right on the money.
“Yeah, I figured,” you couldn’t help teasing him a little. His grin kicked up in the corner.
“How’re the mountains and fresh air treating you then?” he asked. “Better than that blanket a’ smog in Chicago.”
“We do not have smog…or, well, not that much,” you laughed, “but yes, I’m actually really liking it here so far. I mean, I just got here about a week ago. I’m still learning. Though Emily actually tried to help me ride a horse today.”
“Yeah?” His brows raised. “How’d that go?”
You had to laugh. A kind of self-deprecating laugh that had you half-covering your face to stem off your blush.
“Not well,” you admitted.
Beau ducked his head with a smile. He met your eyes in amusement, but not without kindness.
“Well, here’s a tip for ya,” he said. He planted his feet, held his hands up into lightly clenched fists. “The trick is in the legs. Grip tight, but not too tight. He’ll think you’re rarin’ to go.”
You blinked a bit wider. Was that just honest advice…or was he sort of flirting with you?
It made you blush in earnest.
“Ah. Good to know,” you said with a laugh. He treated you with a tip of his imaginary hat.
“Hey,” someone called out.
Both of your heads turned to a tall black woman with long curly hair. She gave you a polite smile before she nodded up at Beau.
“You ready to go?” she asked.
“Ah, yep,” Beau nodded. He gave you an apologetic look. “Sorry, gotta get back to the station.”
“Oh, of course,” you said. But you held up a finger. “Wait, just a sec.”
You hastened back over to the table of confections from brunch and offered them a chocolate chip muffin each for the road. Cassie politely declined, but Beau gladly took his.
“Although, are you trying to stereotype me or somethin’?” he teased.
Your brows furrowed in confusion, but after a moment, it hit you. You’d just given a cop a baked good.
“At least it wasn’t a donut,” you quipped, despite your embarrassment. Beau still looked bemused, but he let you off the hook.
“That’s okay. I’ve never been known to turn down free food,” he assured.
“He really doesn’t,” Cassie confirmed. You noticed how she was waiting, arms crossed.
“Well, there you go! Sorry for keeping you,” you said.
“Not at all, darlin’,” said Beau. His smile had a charming gleam. “Nice to meet you.”
You quirked a smile back. “Wow, you are from Texas.”
You didn’t think you’d ever been called darlin’ in your life.
Beau’s good humor shifted into slight embarrassment himself.
“Sorry. I’ve been told to stop doing that,” he said. When he chuckled, you did along with him. You weren’t offended by it, just surprised by the old-fashioned endearment.
“It’s okay,” you said. “Nice to meet you too, Sheriff.”
You raised a hand in goodbye, and Beau returned it, watching you go. Meanwhile, Cassie watched him with a small smirk. He stepped down from the short platform in front of Emily’s tent to meet her.
“Were you just checking out Glamper Girl? In front of your daughter, no less,” Cassie remarked.
Beau shot her a look of denial. “I did no such thing. I’m a professional. And a gentleman, mind you.”
Cassie rose a brow at him. It stirred up a bit of his defensiveness.
“But, I’ll have you know that Em had already moved on when I had a friendly conversation with the glamper,” he said.
Cassie rolled her eyes. Right.
That afternoon, you decided to bring your sketchpad and your modest collection of paints to the lake. You sat on the bank and tried to paint, while Mary joined the others in swimming.
“That looks nice,” Emily’s voice startled you from behind.
You twisted to look at her, and she gave you an apologetic look. She was dressed to go for a swim in a one-piece bathing suit and some shorts. She seemed more of a conservative dresser than typical high school girls her age. Maybe that had something to do with a policeman being her father, or maybe that was just her personality.
“Sorry,” she said, raising her hands.
“It’s okay.” You waved it off and gestured for her to sit beside you if she wanted. She did so, admiring your work over your shoulder. You felt a little embarrassed by it, but you didn’t mind her watching you try to paint ripples of light on the water.
“Are you an artist?” she asked.
You shot her a smile. “You’re very sweet, but no. I just started this year.”
You’d just Googled some therapeutic techniques instead of, you know, going to therapy. You just knew that if you did, your aunt would probably tell your parents, who would never let you hear the end of it. Specifically, why it was a waste of time. Your father especially would have something to say.
But one of the sources you found suggested trying out some creative outlets to calm the mind and think productively, but not create more stress for yourself. You’d tried a few different things, but landed on painting. It was working for you so far, even if you didn’t think you were that good.
“How do you like Montana so far?” you asked your companion. “Your dad told me you guys just moved here too, a few months ago.”
“Yeah, when my mom got remarried, my dad moved to stay close to me,” Emily explained.
Your brows raised. Your painting hand paused with the brush near the page.
“Well, that’s a good father,” you said. You smiled at the thought of Beau Arlen. The way he hugged his daughter before, like she was his entire world, and the fact that he’d moved entire states just to stay with her, told you a great deal about the town’s new sheriff.
Emily nodded, but her lips were pressed. “He’s a bit overprotective.”
“Well, he is a cop,” You said, smiling. “I assume that’s just part of the package.”
“I get that,” she said. “It’s just…a bit much sometimes.”
You gave her a sympathetic look. “I understand. My dad can be like that too. He’s got his soft moments, but he can be a real tough nut too… He’s a retired fireman.”
“Wow, that’s cool,” Emily said. She looked impressed. “Did you ever want to be a firefighter?”
You chuckled. “No, and he never wanted me to. It just wasn’t my beat, anyway.”
In the many years before your father had risen in the ranks to firehouse chief, your mother had often worried about him when he was on shift. Being a firefighter in inner-city Chicago had brought some hard and dangerous calls.
But you had always been more bookish, and both your parents were grateful for that.
You sighed. Your paintbrush made a stroke of deep green on the page, creating darker shades in the bottom of the lake.
“I did end up dating one though. Almost married him too,” you muttered, before you could stop yourself. You forgot you were talking to an insatiably curious girl.
“Really? What happened?” she asked. You looked over at her, and she was staring at you with her full attention. You remembered then that her podcast was supposed to be about relationships, but you had no desire to be a subject.
“It didn’t work out,” you said at last, and with difficulty.
“Why?” Emily asked.
Your internal struggle kept you quiet. It gave time for Emily to really see the withdrawn, almost pained look on your face, the slight hunch of your shoulders. She deflated guiltily.
“Uh, sorry,” she said.
You offered a small smile. “It’s okay, honey.”
“I’ll uh, just let you get back to painting,” she said. You waved her goodbye after she got up and left, giving you one last look before she joined her stepfather in the lake.
You let out a deep breath. The teen was tenacious, and naturally curious. That in itself wasn’t such a bad thing. But as you watched her splash at Avery, laughing that weightless laugh that kids got to have, you realized how much you missed being that young and free in your heart.
Again, out of habit, you set down your brush and rubbed at your empty left ring finger.
Mary finally joined you back in your shared tent after a long night of socializing by the fire. You had kept to the tent, reading Much Ado About Nothing for one of your classes that would start in the fall. It wasn’t your first time reading the Shakespeare play, by any means, but you did want to brush up on it.
“You know, you’re actually supposed to be vacationing on this vacation,” Mary pointed out. She started changing into her pajamas for bed. You were already cozy in one of your old college hoodies and some shorts, not to mention snuggled under the warm blankets.
“I am,” you said defensively. “I hiked, I painted, I ate no less than one burger, a basket of fries, and three smores, and now I’m reading.”
“Yeah, for school,” she pointed out. “I may not be as smart as you, but I know homework when I see it.”
You shot her a smile. “You’re plenty smart, M.”
She snorted and slipped into bed beside you. It felt like the sleepovers you two used to have in college, years ago, when she’d come to crash in your dorm, or you in hers. She’d been a philosophy major (despite not giving two shits about Socrates), forced to attend college by her parents. You were an English major, working three part-time jobs just to get you through until graduation.
“Hey,” she said, laying a hand on your shoulder. You turned to her in question. She seemed more serious than usual.
“I’m worried about you,” she said. “And I’m not the only one.”
You sighed. Lowering your book, you leaned back against your pillows and stared up at the tent’s fairy lights.
“I know,” you replied. “But you don’t need to be.”
“Yeah you keep saying that, but you know the real reason I’m here, right?” Mary asked. Her insistent hand on your arm made you meet her eyes.
“You don’t have to do this," she said. "You don’t have to move out here and leave everything behind. You should just come home with me. Your parents, our friends—everyone wants to be there for you, like we have all year.”
Your lips pursed, and you shook your head.
“I’m not going to change my mind. So if that’s really why you’re here, and not to just spend some time with me, as my friend, then you should just go home,” you said. “I’ll leave here and go to my aunt’s house. I’m sure your parents can negotiate some kind of refund.”
Mary got angry and huffy, just like you thought she would. You weren’t playing around though. This was your life, and your decision.
If your friends and your family couldn’t be happy for you, or at least understanding, then they could at least respect you. You just weren’t sure when they’d get the hint that this was real.
You were moving to Montana, permanently.
On the drive back into town from the camping site, Beau ate his chocolate chip muffin and tried his best to listen to Cassie—to her theories on where the backpacker might’ve gone, and how best to tell the parents to keep her on this investigation.
A good part of him was still thinking about his daughter, wishing he could be there with her right now.
And maybe, his mind occasionally wandered…thinking about the pretty shade of your eyes when you smiled at him.
AN: And there we have it, Part 1 of a new series! If you liked it, please let me know! 🥰
And a special Happy Birthday to @jackles010378! 💖 I was going to say we're both Aries (mine is next month) but forgot Pisces comes first lol. ♓
Next Time:
The trees were tall and dark now. The moon was filtering through them like the sun had during other day hikes, but it was much more ominous at night.
“Shit,” you muttered. You gripped your flashlight in worry as panic started to well up in your chest.
Now you were lost.
You jumped with a start when the hoot of a bird passed by overhead.
Shiiiit. This was very bad.
You kept moving forward on what you thought was the trail. That was all you could do, keep moving forward. You made a few turns around some trees, occasionally calling out for Sunny, or Mary, or anyone to hear you.
▶️ Keep Reading: Part 2
Ko-Fi Me ☕
Series Masterlist
Big Sky Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List:
@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @globetrotter28 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @ades106
@charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @deans-baby-momma @tabsluvsu @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons
@antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @deans-daydream @deans-spinster-witch @agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @iprobablyshipit91 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @lostin-jensenseyes @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester
#All of Her Days#Take Me Home#Part 1#Beau Arlen series#big sky#beau arlen#beau arlen x reader#beau arlen x female reader#Emily Arlen#cassie dewell#beau arlen x you#Beau Arlen smut#Jensen Ackles characters#big sky season 3#zepskies writes
304 notes
·
View notes
Text
“The old curiosity shop” by Dick King-Smith
#cottagecore#cats#animals#japanese aesthetic#korean aesthetic#light academia aesthetic#cute#photography
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Based on a twitter thread the lovely @nburkhardt shared in the Discord chat and I just took the idea that Gareth is both Chrissy AND Steve's cousin and ran with it.
"Harrington, think fast!" Gareth is already lobbing the cream soda at Steve's head before he's even fully looked up but the asshole snatches it out of the air no problem. It barely even fizzes when he cracks the can open. The bastard.
"And for you, Chrysanthemum," Gareth hands off her cream soda gently, because she's his favorite cousin. She laughs at him but takes the soda. She doesn't open it right away, instead opting to set it beside her in the shade of the shed they've taken residency of. Out of sight of the rest of their family and their thousand and one questions.
"You know nicknames are supposed to be shorter than the original name, right?" Steve says, then burps because he chugged half the soda in one swallow.
"Gross," Chrissy says at the same time as Gareth's, "noice."
Steve grins, pleased with himself.
"Hey, so. I wanted to talk to you guys about something," Gareth says after a moment of quiet has fallen over them. He's plopped down in the front of them instead of resuming his spot beside Chrissy, leaning against the shed in the shade. It puts him in the sun but he wants to look at them both as they talk.
"Anything, Garebearringham," Chrissy says to annoy Steve with a lengthened nickanme.
"So, I'll be a freshman this year. And, I love you guys, you know I do, but, uh, I don't want to be seen associating with you. Publically."
There's a beat of silence where Steve and Chrissy just stare back, Chrissy looking hurt and Steve looking offended.
"What I mean is that you're both already, like, known. You know? And I don't want to just be… the cool kids' younger cousin. I want to be uncool on my own."
Chrissy says, "Oh. Yeah, I get that."
Steve says, "You want to be uncool?"
Gareth gestures to all of himself. "I am not aiming to win the popularity contest. I want to join the Hellfire club." He points an accusing finger at Steve. "You told me yourself that the club leader climbs on tables and rants about jocks-"
"Yeah, as a warning to not join Hellfire. How did you read that wrong?"
"-so I can't be seen associating with a cheerleader and the king of jocks. That'll ruin my, like, cred or whatever!"
Chrissy is nodding along solemnly. She's always been understand and sympathetic to Gareth, especially when it comes to being himself. In quiet alone times, she's confessed to being jealous of how easily being himself came to him and she wished she was as brave. Steve, however, was a conformist through and through and while Gareth could understand the why (his uncle and aunt are not the best of people) he's never going to try and fit in just because it makes like easier.
"Your cred," Steve says monotone, his bitch face out in full force.
"Yeah! My street cred!"
Chrissy and Steve share a look. Steve raises and eyebrow and Chrissy shrugs before they look back to Gareth.
"Alright. You're secret is safe with us, Garrington," Chrissy teases.
"Do not!"
"You think people aren't going to put together that you and Chrissy have the same last name?" Steve says, because he's a shithead.
"So? There like 4 Smiths, and none of them are related. It'll be fine."
"True. No one will believe the amazing Chrissy Cunningham is related to the absolute loser Gareth Cunningham."
"Absolute loser! You're a dick, Steve Harrington."
"Yeah, but you know I got your back even if you're a loser."
Gareth doesn't answer. He opens his own soda then, chugging enough to let out his own gross burp for Chrissy to scold him about and Steve to laugh.
It's the summer of 1983 and things can only go up for them all now that they're all in high school together.
659 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Knight’s Tale Griddlehark AU where Gideon is a commoner squire whose knight, Aiglamene, has been rendered unable to compete (leg incident) and decides in a moment of desperation to take her place in the lists. After meeting with unexpected success, she and her compatriots (Isaac and Jeannemarie as her fellow squires; Palamedes as their herald) begin to make their way through the tournament circuit, hoping to escape desperate poverty, find glory and riches, and change their fates.
Along the way they meet Harrowhark, Lady of the Ninth, unwillingly attending the jousts at the behest of her parents in hopes of finding someone who will rescue her dying House (by marriage if her parents have their way; by funding Harrow’s experiments if she has hers). She gets into an argument with an idiot of a red-haired knight who follows her into a church, of all places, just so they can keep fighting. Despite sending her packing with her sharp-edged tongue, Harrow can’t seem to forget Sir Griddle (which is all she managed to choke out for a name before she got unceremoniously thrown out of the building).
While being courted at the lists by Princess Ianthe of the Third (whom she finds personally repellant, but her fortune is exactly what is needed to restore the Ninth), Harrow is brought face to face with Sir Griddle yet again. This time, it’s a three-way verbal sparring match, and Harrow is left unable to decide which one she hates most. But as the tournament progresses, she is forced grudgingly to admit that Sir Griddle is “something else with that lance.” (Let alone the sword, which our Gideon wins handily, but chooses (like a true idiot) to focus on the joust, which decides the winner of the tournament.)
She is narrowly defeated by Count Ianthe, whose technique is far better than her own (having had years of training to Gideon’s, what, three months?). Griddle is about to slink off in fury but then Harrow’s ancient seneschal shows up, demanding to know the color of Griddle’s tunic for the dance that evening (Harrow having decided that the one person she despises more than Griddle is Ianthe, and the best way to annoy her will be to show up dressed in matching courtly wear).
Gideon, annoyed that Harrow is putting her on the spot, decides to attend despite not knowing how to dance. As luck would have it, Palamedes has met up with his cousin, who’s been working as a blacksmith; Cam shows them the basics, then goes off with Pal in a huddle to design next-gen armor that will fit Gideon much better than Aiglamene’s cast-offs. Harrow and Gideon share a surprisingly sexy dance, pissing Ianthe off to no end and leaving each other in a furious state of “oh no, she’s hot.”
Due to Gideon’s determination, Cam’s genius at smithing (and as Gideon’s new training partner, who regularly kicks her ass), and Palamedes’s over-the-top heraldic intros, Gideon begins to make a name for herself, winning tournaments all over the country. She even decides to joust against a mystery knight, even after discovering that she’s the Crown Princess of the Third in disguise, winning herself Coronabeth’s respect.
Just as she’s about to face Ianthe in the finals, the Princess of Ida is called back to her homeland to fight in their war. Discontented with her default victory, Gideon has a nasty fight with Harrow, who tells her to fuck off. Gideon decides to return to her own home country in search of a championship there, and also to find the annoyingly hot noblewoman who won’t stop needling her (and haunting her increasingly sweaty dreams).
Etc. etc.
Additional details include:
Gideon can’t stop laughing at her own lance-related dick jokes.
When Ianthe thinks she’s got Gideon disqualified from the championships by exposing her for being a commoner, Harrow’s been cooking up some genealogical research and it turns out that Gideon is…actually the child of King John of Gaius, and heir to the throne! So suck my royal dick, Tridentarius.
Harrow’s research concerns, among many other things, the use of bone meal as crop fertilizer/pest repellent to lift the famine that has decimated the Ninth House. Because the Ninth House has more corpses than any other sort of natural resource, she’s got a lot of material to work with.
Ianthe’s herald is Babs.
Aiglamene is back home nursing her lack of leg, but she is fully aware of the nonsense her squires are getting up to (despite their utterly ham-fisted attempts to keep it from her). She figures that holding her tongue won’t hurt, but Harrow will send a very resentful Crux to fetch her to the capitol so she can watch Gideon win the championship.
In the original Knight’s Tale, Jocelyn (female love interest) has a very lovely and smart handmaiden to advise her and act as a go-between.
Harrow’s handmaiden is Crux.
#griddlehark#a knight’s tale#tlt#tlt au#gideon nav#harrowhark nonagesimus#camilla hect#palamedes sextus#ianthe tridentarius
237 notes
·
View notes
Text
Books On Books Collection - David McLimans
Gone Wild (2016)
Gone Wild: An Endangered Animal Alphabet (2016)David McLimansCasebound, illustrated paper over boards, illustrated doublures, sewn book block. Illustrated, debossed glossy paper dustjacket. H255 x W285 mm. 36 unnumbered pages. Acquired from Gargoyle Books, 25 August 2022.Photos: Books On Books Collection.
In the history of children’s books, the alphabet looms large, and among…
View On WordPress
#Alan Robinson#Anne Smith#Bert Kitchen#David McLimans#Dick King-Smith#Don Robb#E.N. Ellis#James Rumford#Jerry Pallotta#John Candell#John Hart#Quentin Blake#Ralph Masiello#Suzanne Moore
0 notes
Text
I’m trying to start a collection of every xenofiction book from a cats POV that I can find!! this is my criteria list:
older middle-grade and up fiction stories (maybe some exceptions for children's books if I really like them)
Mostly or only cat POV, not stories about people with cat sidekicks
about actual cats, not a human that shapeshifts into a cat, nor cat-like two-legged humanoids
Focusing on domestic cats and maybe small wild cats, not big cats
It doesn’t have to be a traditionally published book, but it does have to be something completed that I can buy a copy of
Graphic novels count!
These are the ones I know so far, please let me know if you have any more that I can add! (not listing every book’s sequels, series are presumed to be lumped together)
(also note: I have not read most of these books yet, so I can’t say what kind of graphic/sensitive content they may or may not have. I'm just trying to make as complete a list as I can for personal reference)
Warrior Cats (obviously, this one is a free space)
Varjak Paw -- S.F Said
Tailchaser’s Song -- Tad Williams
The Wild Road -- Gabriel King
Catwings -- Ursula K. Le Guin
Stray -- A.N Wilson
The Book of Night with Moon -- Diane Duane
The Wildings -- Nilanjana Roy
The Tygrine Cat -- Inbali Iserles
The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents -- Terry Pratchett
The Familiars -- Adam Jay Epstein
In the Long Dark -- Brian Carter
Felidae -- Akif Pirinçci. Unfortunately! but I don’t want to talk about him and no one should buy his work. just adding so people know i’m aware of this book already
The Cats of Roxville Station -- Jean Craighead George
The Traveling Cat Chronicles -- Hiro Arikawa
Blitzcat -- Robert Westall
Cat House -- Michael Peak
Cats in the City of Plague -- A.L Marlow
Guardian Cats and the Lost Books of Alexandria -- Rahma Krambo
Cat on the Edge -- Shirley Rousseau Murphy
I Am a Cat -- Natsume Sōseki
The Alchemist’s Cat -- Robin Jarvis
The Stink Files -- Jennifer L. Holm & Jonathan Hamel
I, Scheherazade: Memoirs of a Siamese Cat -- Douglass Parkhirst
The Mouse Butcher -- Dick King-Smith
Heroes Rising: Book One of Catmage: Genesis -- Meryl Yourish
#theres gotta be more so send me suggestions plz#yarrow speaks#yarrow reads other books#xenofiction#reblogs to spread this are appreciated#warrior cats#when I have time i will come back and organize them by middle grade-YA-or adult#maybe include upper middle grade for things like warrior cats itself where many people cant agree whether its really middle grade or YA#middle grade books have a hell of a range in tone...i would be guessing with a lot of them#frankly im not sure how to draw a clear line between YA and adult either but well cross that bridge when we come to it
233 notes
·
View notes
Text
1980s/90s editions of children's books by Dick King-Smith
#books#children's books#nostalgia#nostalgic#retro#childhood#1980s#babe#the sheep-pig#reading#eighties#80s kid#80's#kidcore#vintage books#my childhood#kids books
108 notes
·
View notes
Text
in lieu of valentine's day, have you considered recognising...
the death of cyril, a christian missionary who helped inspire the cyrillic alphabet?
the defrocking of archbishop thomas cranmer?
the murder of james cook?
alexander graham bell applying for a patent of the telephone?
the decimalisation of australian currency?
the birth and death of lydia hamilton smith, an african-american abolitionist?
the death of this one king whose name no historian can spell consistently?
the birth of a footballer genuinely called dick richards?
and more!
38 notes
·
View notes
Text
list of guys in the autism bracket: this will be updated as we get more dudes. submissions are here for ease of access
pierre bezukhov, war and peace
natasha rostova, war and peace
tanya larina, eugene onegin
ishmael, moby dick
lancelot, arthurian literature
javert, les miserables
myshkin, the idiot
sherlock holmes, sherlock holmes
fitzwilliam darcy, pride and prejudice
gregor samsa, the metamorphosis
edmond dantes, the count of monte cristo
newland archer, the age of innocence
winston smith, 1984
victor frankenstein, frankenstein
malvolio, twelfth night
oblomov, oblomov
fanny price, mansfield park
inspector goole, an inspector calls
holden caulfield, the catcher in the rye
clarisse mcclellan, fahrenheit 451
mina murray harker, dracula
fezzik, the princess bride
anne shirley cuthbert, anne of green gables
nick carraway, the great gatsby
boo radley, to kill a mockingbird
enjolras, les miserables
phileas fogg, around the world in 80 days
the following don't have (sufficient) propaganda and are likely to be kicked out of the tournament:
inigo montoya, the princess bride
the scarecrow, the wizard of oz
ulysses/odysseus, the odyssey
hercule poirot, agatha christie's books
laura, carmilla
the little prince, the little prince
king louis xiii, the three musketeers
65 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
aayumu27
Oresama Arki
sancharles
San Charles
bilightningwhumper
Where The Writing Things Go
tyhoonka
Без названия
jaynabbhamp
icelilacglxi