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#kate looks like the penny just dropped
yawnderu · 5 months
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Cowgirl - Simon ''Ghost'' Riley/TF141 x Reader | Act I
Bang.
The deafening sound rings in her ears, numbing everything else around her until another body hits the floor with a loud thud, the lifeless eyes of her former teammate staring right into her soul. That's three of them.
The warm muzzle of the gun pressing against the back of her head does nothing other than make an amused huff of air escape her nose, gaze drifting around the shallow grave where her team laid rest. She looks over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow to the executioner.
''So?'' The muzzle presses harder against her head, yet the feeling is not uncomfortable.
''Huh?'' The man taunts, lips tugging up into an amused smirk as he stares down at her, trigger finger still itchy as he focuses on the last survivor.
''Saved the best for last?'' Her cocky tone makes him scoff, face now lighting up into something more honest, a real smile decorating his features in what feels like forever.
''We're getting a pretty penny for you, Sunshine.'' Now it's her turn to scoff at the callsign, fully turning her body to look up at him now that the gun is back in its holster.
''You're not killing me?'' She gives him an exasperated expression, pointer finger jabbing his chest multiple times as he backs out, hands raised in mock defense as the younger girl goes on and on.
''You killed all my friends, you... weirdo.'' She spits out the first insult she can think of, still jabbing away at his chest despite the amused expression decorating his attractive features.
''It's only fair you kill me too.'' His hand grabs her wrist gently, keeping her reddening finger away from his chest until she begins to jab away with her free hand... now he has two puny wrists in his hand, and a very energetic firebrand with itchy fingers staring up at him.
''Sunny, Sunshine, light of my life... fire of my loins—'' He dodges the kick thrown to his groin, smile growing wider as he looks down at her.
''I'm not killing you. We're... relocating you.'' He sees the lack of amusement in her face and his expression softens.
''Right. Who... bought me?'' The word feels almost filthy to say, yet she's calling it for what it is— he's giving her away for money, to another team that isn't even her own, right after killing her teammates in front of her. He knows how bad it is, but at the end of the day, it's business.
''Kate Laswell, for some Task Force in the SAS.'' She sighs in exasperation, yet she's not struggling in his hold anymore. His free hand drops to her waist, squeezing softly to get her attention.
''For what it's worth, I'm sorry. You know how things work around here.'' The hand holding her wrists now goes up to her cheek, cupping it just to see the ugly scowl adorning her expression.
''Fuck you. Fuck you and everyone around this shitty place.'' She pushes him away, stomping the other way and making sure to step on any cracks she can find on the ground in childish hopes his back will break. She'll definitely be missed by her captors.
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''Behave.'' He gave her ass a soft pat, barely managing to dodge the punch thrown his way before he's pushing her to the group of men, all of them wearing SAS patches, along with the British flag decorating their gear. It was awkward, to say the least, but he left as soon as he came. Her eyes drift towards him, almost pleading. Almost, because she'd never beg him for anything.
''Right.'' A deep voice interrupts the silence, one of his hands planted firmly on her shoulder as he offers her a warm smile, bucket hat adding more friendliness his face. She seems unsure at first before nodding her head, offering his arm a very awkward pat that drags a laugh out of him, simply opting for a handshake.
''Captain John Price.'' He introduces himself, hand still firmly on her shoulder as he moves out of the way, the other three members of his team now visible.
''Sergeant John MacTavish, goes by Soap.'' He pointed towards the burly man with the mohawk, his hand extended to her and a small smile on his scarred face.
''Sunshine. Please give me a new callsign.'' She shakes his hand, a small grimace on her face at the embarrassment of having to use her callsign. The men laugh— all but one, the brooding man with the skull mask.
''Sergeant Kyle Garrick, goes by Gaz.'' She shakes his hand as well, admiring the man for a few seconds before letting go, managing to offer him a small smile that is quickly returned.
''And there he is— Simon Riley, goes by Ghost.'' He stares at her extended hand for a second before shaking it, his hold firm but managing to still be gentle. Her head tilts slightly as she looks up at him after they both let go, eyes narrowing for a second as she focuses on the dead brown eyes staring back.
''You remind me of someone. You're so serious, though.'' To her surprise, his eyes flicker with amusement as he lets out a soft chuckle, unsure on what to add to her comment. Price takes her away before he can even think, giving her a basic introduction to the team and what everyone's role is in the team— and what her role will be.
His brown eyes stay focused on her figure as she walks away with Price, curious as to why a soldier from another task force was added out of nowhere with no warnings.
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its-the-pilot · 6 months
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Halloween | Drabble
A little Halloween drabble for you! Enjoy!
Summary: You convince Bradley to dress up for a Halloween party with you. (Mav's niece!reader)
Warnings: swearing, mentions of teen drug/alcohol use
Length: 1k words
Pairing: teen!Bradley Bradshaw x teen!Female Reader
| Waves Masterlist | Masterlist |
Message or comment to join the taglist!
Bradley sat on the couch next to your Uncle Pete, both of them engrossed in Game One of the World Series when you stepped in front of the TV, dressed as Penny Lane. You had dyed your hair to match Kate Hudson’s, styling it in loose curls, and you were wearing a pair of low rise jeans with a cropped camisole and a suede jacket with fur trim. 
“Time to get dressed for the party,” you smirked, noting how his eyes moved appreciatively over your form, earning him a smack on the back of the head from Maverick. 
“Keep your hands to yourself, Bradshaw,” Mav warned, standing to kiss your temple on his way to the kitchen. He was still adjusting to your relationship with Bradley, though it didn't surprise him that you ended up together. He simply didn't want either of you getting hurt. “You look nice, Squirt. Have fun tonight.”
“Thanks, Uncle Pete,” you replied, turning your attention back to Bradley as you held up a vintage ‘70s button down shirt you had picked up at a thrift store for his costume. 
He sighed and let his head fall back against the couch at the sight of the shirt. “You were serious about me doing Almost Famous too?”
“C’mon, Brad! This costume is so low effort, and you promised if I agreed to go to the party you would dress up with me,” you reminded him, stepping closer to drop the shirt on his lap. 
You typically weren't a party-goer, and since you started dating your best friend a month earlier, he had encouraged you to become more social. This particular party was being thrown by a couple of his baseball teammates at the beach, and it was expected that most of the school would be there. 
He lifted the shirt to inspect it and then looked back up to you. “I promised?” he asked, reaching with his free hand to pull you down so you were sitting on his lap. “Doesn’t sound like something I’d promise.”
“You did,” you nodded, poking his nose with your finger. “Now, come on. We’re gonna be late.”
Bradley kissed you before standing with the shirt in hand, gently placing you in the spot on the couch he’d just vacated. “Just the shirt. I’ll be right back.”
You laughed as he headed off to his room to change, grumbling about your choice in costumes. When he returned a few minutes later, the bright smile on your face made him regret all of his previous complaints. 
“How does it look?” he asked, chuckling as you bounced on your toes happily. 
“You’re the perfect Russell Hammond. One last touch,” you moved toward him, tousling his hair before sticking a fake mustache on his upper lip and kissing him when he tried to protest. “You want me to go, right?”
He shook his head with a smirk. “Okay, but you owe me,” he teased, grabbing the keys for his Bronco off the table. “We’re leaving!” he called out to Maverick, ushering you out the door. 
The drive to the beach was peaceful, the radio playing oldies that you both had grown up on and enjoyed. You were nervous though, and Bradley sensed it. His hand reached over to squeeze yours when he finally parked the car.
“It’ll be fun, you’ll see. You know Josh and Mike,” he reassured you. “And if you wanna go home, just let me know.”
You nodded and climbed out of the truck with him, letting his large hand take yours as you headed for the bonfire. The sun had just set, the last streaks of purple and pink in the sky as night took over, and the large fire illuminated everything around it. People in all kinds of costumes were dancing to the loud music playing on a boom box, having a good time. 
Several people approached to greet Bradley, complimenting your costumes when he introduced you as his girlfriend. Eventually you found his teammates hanging out around a keg, and Bradley reached for the cups, intent on pouring some of the amber liquid for both of you, but you protested, placing a hand on his.
"I'd rather we didn't," you began, concern in your voice.
He kissed you gently. "Okay, that's fine," he replied, putting the cups back without hesitation. You had been vocal about wanting him to stop drinking, and he respected your wishes. "Wanna dance?"
Your unease lifted, replaced by a smile as you nodded. "I'd love to," you said, grateful for his understanding and the dance that awaited you in the flickering light of the bonfire. The energy of the party was addictive, and you found yourself enjoying it more than you thought you would. 
As the night progressed, you and Bradley danced together in perfect harmony, swaying to the music under the enchanting glow of the bonfire. The surrounding whispers of conversations, the crackling of the embers, and the distant sound of the ocean waves created a soothing backdrop.
The party had calmed down, and it felt like time had slowed, allowing you to cherish this intimate moment. In Bradley's embrace, you found both comfort and excitement. His large hands guided you with a gentle rhythm, speaking to your deep connection. You tilted your head back, your eyes meeting his, and for a moment, everything else faded into the background.
A soft breeze swept through, tugging at your costumes and causing you both to shiver. Bradley tightened his hold around you, making sure you were warm and secure. His lips met yours once more, a declaration of the affection he had for you.
"I don't want this night to end," you whispered against his lips.
Bradley smiled and held you closer. "Me neither," he replied, his voice filled with warmth and longing. "But don't worry, we’ll have more nights like this."
As the night wound down, you and Bradley held each other close, savoring the warmth of the dying bonfire and the love that had filled your hearts throughout the Halloween night. The memories of laughter, dances, and shared moments would remain, a testament to the magic you had experienced.
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pettyrevenge-base · 9 months
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I spent $5,000+ to inconvenience and embarrass a competitor who treated me like crap. It was worth it.
So I used to run a small business (wedding space), and I was very successful in a very short period of time. To the point that I was getting all expense paid invites to industry conferences less than 6 months after I opened. Needless to say, this ruffled feathers.  
Enter Kate. Kate is a chief Karen who competes in the same space and has been nothing but awful to me from the moment she became aware that I wasn't just competition, I was doing better business than her. She would complain that I had gotten expenses paid, implied that it was because I was pretty, said that she felt people who had been in the space longer deserved it more, and a vaguely racist statement about how my outfit colors  "don't look good" on dark skinned people. She also reported my booth for accidentally being less than 3 inches outside our 10x10 slot, and has tried on more than one occasion to have my competing products removed from vendors halls. Needless to say, I despise this woman.
Now fast forward a little bit into the pandemic. I see major issues on the horizon for my business, and so I decide to step out and sell for a pretty penny. Bought a condo. Took a job at a non-profit and moved along with my life. But some of my friends still in the industry would give me updates or vent, and I was absolutely right to sell- most everyone doing what I do has already closed including the person I sold to. Kate, however, was still going strong, though I noticed her prices were really really aggressive. My friend then showed me SS that Kate had bragged privately about claiming to be unemployed/disabled by using her long time partner as a cover for her business, then dropping prices below what other sellers could do because she was double dipping.  
This really really really made me angry. I have a mobility disability, and I felt horrible for the people she was running out of business by pricing so low. So I of course reported her, but nothing seemed to come of that. Then one of the biggest conferences of our local industry came up on my calendar. This conference costs 8-10k to vend at, and many vendors make 50%+ of their yearly income from this one event.  
My friend runs the vending hall, so I asked her to place me right next to Kate. Now when I left the industry, I still had great contacts on the manufacturing side because I speak Chinese fairly well. I found the manufacturer for Kates top selling items, and ordered a sizeable inventory to take with me to the conference. I priced them at cost and made ginormous signs about inventory liquidation, and created these super aggressive bundle deals that made it nearly impossible for her to do any business being right next to me.  
I could see her over there fuming, and she did try to come over and complain, but our booth was too busy to even entertain her obnoxious huffing and puffing. She closed her shop last week. I lost about $5,000 doing this, but I got a lot of people deals on packages/items that they never thought they could afford for their special day, and it was honestly fun to help people out, especially at her expense.
Source: reddit.com/r/pettyrevenge
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41319kbex · 2 months
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Hell Hath No Fury (6/?)
Thank you to all who made it through the most case-heavy chapter I think I’ve ever written! But as so many of you have been kind enough to point out, it was necessary to get to this point in the story…which I hope you will all enjoy, and maybe see as a bit of a payoff for sticking around past the last chapter!
Thank you for all the reviews and kind words, and especially to those who reviewed as a guest that I wasn’t able to thank personally.
Unfortunately, I still don’t own Castle…
xxxxx
Stepping out of her car in the driveway of a huge house, Beckett only had a second to take in the view before a sharp pain shot through her side. Nearly 3 hours in a car with 2 badly broken and 1 slightly fractured rib had not been the best choice; then again, she realized as far as bad choices go, she’d made a lot worse recently. She leaned forward with her forearms bracing herself against the car and had to take a few moments to breathe and try to stretch out just a little before she could stand completely upright again and shut the door.
As she slowly walked around to the trunk of her car, she had time to finally really take in the full view of his house. Damn, Castle…you rich or something? Of course, she’d known he was well-off…the way he dropped money so freely, had so easily dropped 100 grand at the shot to catch her mother’s killer like it was not much more than a penny to him. But seeing this house that was borderline mansion territory really kind of smacked her in the face with his wealth.
She grabbed her bag with her left hand out of habit and instantly dropped it, wincing in pain and grabbing at her ribs. Right side, Kate…you can only lift with your right side. Granted, she’d been told she wasn’t supposed to lift anything at all, but she wasn’t about to not carry her own bag inside. She’d honestly fought with herself over whether to leave her bag in the car, just in case she decided she didn’t want to stay; she’d decided instead to go ahead and carry it inside. She could leave it at the door and make it clear to him she wasn’t agreeing to stay yet; she just didn’t want to have to go back out to her car to get the bag if her decision was yes.
She waited another moment for the pain to subside a little before grabbing her bag with her right hand this time. It was still painful, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t manage as she made her way to the door and knocked. When the door opened and she saw Castle standing there, the pain in her side was momentarily forgotten…because he looked better than he had in the hospital; he looked almost, almost like himself again. And she’d missed him. “Hi…” was all she could think of to say in the moment, and she realized that was definitely not her finest hour.
“Hi,” he returned, offering her a small smile before stepping back so that she could come inside. “So you’re staying?” he nodded toward the bag in her hand.
“Uh…you did offer,” she pointed out, though it wasn’t an answer. She set the bag down beside the door as she stepped inside, her eyes widening as she looked around. She felt like she was so far out of her league here, that it wasn’t funny.
“Right, I did…I do…I just thought…” Castle was stumbling over his words.
“That I wouldn’t say yes?” she finished his thought for him as he closed the door.
“Yeah,” he admitted, studying her for a moment. She had a scabbed-over cut on her lower lip and looked like she had a few scrapes on her like she’d been in some kind of fight. That wasn’t like her; she was too good of a cop, too good at defending herself to get scraped up by an average suspect. He was curious, but he wasn’t sure asking her about it was the best way to start the afternoon.
She saw him looking, and knew he was going to wonder. “I’m fine, Castle. Just a few scrapes.” And broken ribs. She downplayed her injuries, seeing no need to elaborate on how hurt she was just yet. “Where’s Martha and Alexis?” she changed the topic.
“They left about an hour ago to go back to the city. Alexis has school for another couple of weeks, so they come out Friday afternoon and go back Sunday morning,” he answered.
So they were alone. Nothing and no one to interrupt them. No case for her to be able to bury herself in and hide behind. If they really wanted to sort through everything unspoken between them and deal with the fall out of…well, everything…it seemed like it was now or never. “So…just us…” she breathed deeply, her eyes searching him.
“Just us,” he nodded, his eyes meeting hers and holding her gaze for a few moments. “I’m sorry I haven’t called you…” he added quietly.
“I understand why you didn’t,” she offered a small smile of understanding. Because she did understand why he’d been upset; this case, her mother’s case…the way she acted when she investigated it, the things it did to her…add to that the fact the shooter had been after her and shot him instead; she hadn’t been lying to him when she told him she couldn’t pick it up for the same reason a recovering alcoholic didn’t pick up a drink. “I didn’t exactly call you either.”
He was quiet for another few moments, just watching her. “I should show you to a guest room,” he realized, finally tearing his eyes away from her.
“Right.” Even though she hadn’t completely, officially agreed to stay. She was careful when she knelt down to pick up her bag, making sure she used her right hand. She was also careful to mask any pain she felt, in no hurry to reveal her medical status to him just yet. She wasn’t going to lie to him about her injuries, but she also wasn’t going to just volunteer the information either.
She figured it would come up when she told him about the shooter anyway, and she would tell him about the shooter.
The way she was moving was not lost on him, but he didn’t comment on it yet. He’d ask her later. He led her upstairs, not moving very quickly at all. He was still supposed to be taking it easy, and stairs weren’t exactly his friend at the moment.
“If you tell me which room it is, I’m sure I can manage to get there on my own. You don’t have to come up the stairs,” she told him, noticing the difficulty he was having. Of course, the stairs weren’t necessarily her best friend with broken ribs at the moment either. They really were quite a pair, weren’t they? In another scenario, this would have been laughable.
He shook his head. “I’m good. The stairs are good for me,” he insisted stubbornly.
She eyed him for another moment. “Ok, but if you fall on your ass, I’m saying ‘I told you so.’ And I’m taking a video.”
“That’s fair,” he agreed. He continued up the stairs slowly, careful to keep his breathing and heart rate slow. Once they finally made it to the top, he took another moment before walking down the hallway and giving her an abbreviated tour and finally stopping in front of one of the bedrooms. “You can have this room. There’s a bathroom inside…and a view of the ocean. You’ve got complete privacy.”
She stepped inside and moved to place her bag on the bed. It was a beautiful room, but the view she saw from the window was the most spectacular thing about it. “Castle…” she breathed.
“It’s extraordinary isn’t it?” he said softly from his spot in the doorway. He hadn’t entered the room, not wanting to intrude on her space. “It’s the perfect room for you.” Because he thought she was extraordinary; In spite of everything they had said to each other, everything they had been through, every way she frustrated him or pissed him off, he still thought she was the most extraordinary person he’d ever met.
Meeting his eyes when she turned back, she blushed slightly at his words coupled with the way he was looking at her. “Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?” she raised an eyebrow.
“I’m still medicated,” he shrugged with a smile. “I’m going to let you get settled. I’ll be downstairs if you want to talk before dinner.”
She returned his smile with one of her own. “We probably should, don’t you think? We have a lot to talk about.”
He nodded. “I’ll make us some coffee,” he agreed, turning to head downstairs and leaving her to
her own thoughts until she was ready to join him.
xxxxx
She took some time to try to prepare herself for the several discussions they needed to have, figuring they should start with what she’d been doing the last two weeks. After what she figured was enough time for him to have coffee made, she started down the stairs, following the smell to find the kitchen since she hadn’t had a tour of the lower level yet.
“Why don’t we take our coffee outside?” he suggested, handing her a cup made just the way he knew she liked it.
She brought the mug to her lips and inhaled the aroma deeply before taking a sip, savoring it. No one could make coffee taste the way he could; she didn’t know what he did that was so special, but even fancy coffee from coffee shops didn’t taste as good as his. And she had missed it recently. “Sure,” she agreed to his suggestion.
He led her outside to the back porch, gesturing for her to pick her seat before he sat down in a seat opposite her. “I need to talk to you about your mom’s case,” he started.
Taking a deep breath, she released it slowly. “Actually, can you let me go first?” she asked him. Seeing him nod, she took another deep breath. “The shooter's dead.” Seeing his eyes widen slightly, she continued. “I didn’t do it,” she told him. “I wanted to…I almost did. But I didn’t.”
“Then how?” he asked, not following.
“Another sniper took him out.”
“Another sniper? You’ve got another sniper after you?” he asked.
“No…I don’t think so. I think the sniper was just after Maddox. He screwed up by shooting you instead of me. I think the other sniper was cleaning up his mess so that the case could be buried again.”
Castle was quiet for a moment, digesting the information she’d shared with him. “Could be. Maybe not,” he told her. Seeing her questioning look, he took a deep breath. “I got a phone call yesterday from a man claiming to be a friend of Montgomery’s,” he started. “The man told me Montgomery sent him a file before he died…a file that had all the names, all the proof someone would need to bring down the man behind your mother’s murder. The file is supposed to be used to keep you safe,” he continued, watching her, trying to judge her reaction.
“Well it didn’t work since Maddox tried to kill me more than once,” she murmured.
Castle took note of her words to ask her about them later. He needed to finish with his explanation before he lost his nerve. “He told me he didn’t get the file until after the shooting. But now that he has it, he struck a deal. If they come after you, he uses the information in the file to expose the person behind your mother’s murder. But you can’t go digging into your mother’s case anymore. If you do, they will come for you.” He gave her a minute to digest the words. “He said he’s already taken measures to make sure you’re safe,” he added. “So, maybe it was him who took out the shooter…Maddox, did you say his name was?”
She stood and began pacing with her coffee cup as she digested the information Castle had just given her. She supposed it was possible this man who had called Castle had been the one to take care of Maddox and clean up the files; it made just as much sense as her theory that it was Maddox’s employer cleaning up his mess. Either way the case got buried again.
He watched her pace, watched her thinking. “Beckett…” he started.
“Do you believe him? This…man who called you?” she asked, turning to him then. “Do you believe that if I stop digging, I’ll really be safe?”
“The way this man talked…yeah. Yeah I do,” he answered honestly. “Look, I know what the case means to you…but I don’t want to see you killed for this. Your dad doesn’t want to see you throw your life away for this.”
She narrowed her eyes at the mention of her father. “What does my dad have to do with this?”
He sighed, realizing he hadn’t told her about that either. “Your dad came to see me…before Montgomery was killed. He asked me to try to convince you that your life is worth more than your mother’s death. His words, not mine,” he told her quickly, not wanting to be on the receiving end of her wrath for words he hadn’t said.
Great. Her father was conspiring with Castle against her now too. “What else did my dad say?” she finally asked.
Well, she wasn’t yelling at him. Castle took that as a positive sign, at least. “Not much, really. Just that he was worried about you. That you cared about me. That unless I was dumber than I look, he knew I cared about you too. And that I should stop you from throwing your life away. Again, his words, not mine.” He was quiet for a moment before he had to ask. “How mad are you right now?”
She glanced at him before taking a deep breath, wincing slightly at the inhale. “At my dad? A lot, actually. But at you? Not as much,” she admitted softly.
He noticed her wince and couldn’t not ask anymore. “Are you okay? You haven’t seemed
quite…right… since you got here. You said Maddox tried to kill you more than once, and you’re too good at your job to get scuffed up by some random arrest. So the split lip, the scrapes…I’m going to assume are from Maddox?”
She knew it would come out sooner or later. And she’d promised herself she wasn’t going to lie to him about it. “Yes,” she nodded. “And some broken ribs.”
“Broken ribs?” he immediately took a step toward her, only to be stopped by her holding up her hand.
“I’m fine.”
“Broken ribs is not fine,” he shook his head.
She sighed. “They hurt, but I’m fine, Castle. It’s nothing I can’t handle. It just hurts to breathe a little too deeply. The doctor said they’ll heal in about 6 weeks.”
“So you’re off work for 6 weeks…which is why you were able to bring a bag to stay for a few days,” Castle began to put the pieces together.
Beckett looked down at her coffee for a moment. “It’s a little longer than 6 weeks,” she admitted, taking a slow drink of her coffee. Seeing his questioning look, she bit her lip slightly. “I kind of got suspended. I’m not allowed back until September.”
“What?!” he almost laughed. “I’m both outraged and impressed by that.”
She rolled her eyes at his reaction. “Shut up.”
“I’m sorry,” he chuckled. “What happened? How did you get suspended?”
She sighed. “The new captain hates me.” She shot him another look when he laughed at her words. “I’m serious, Castle! She did her whole hostile takeover and decided to use me to make an example out of so that everyone else in the precinct would see what happens when you go rogue.”
He couldn’t help but laugh some more. “You did go rogue…”
“It was my case! You’re my partner! She didn’t want to let me go after the shooter!” She cut him a look because his laughing was not helping. “Castle, if you don’t stop laughing, I swear to God…” she threatened him.
“Okay, okay…I’ll stop,” he held up his hands in surrender. “So September, huh?”
“Yeah, September,” she answered, her eyes daring him to start laughing at her again.
He gave it a few moments before getting serious again. “What are you going to do with your mother’s case?”
She was quiet for a bit, unsure of the answer herself. “I think for now…I don’t rock the boat,” she finally decided, looking out over the beach. “Whoever that second sniper was cleaned up the mess and took all the evidence. I don’t have anything to really run with. And this guy who called you says I’m safe for the time being…” she trailed off with a shrug. She wasn't going to abandon the case, but she was going to put it down for awhile...at least until she could find another lead.
“Is that enough for you?” he asked her seriously.
“It’s enough for now,” she answered, turning to him with a small smile. “I’ll get justice for my mom one day. I’d like you there when I do.”
He met her smile with one of his own, stepping closer to her and taking her hand in his. “I’d like that too.” When she didn’t pull her hand away, he felt a little braver. “So…what are you going to do this summer?” he asked curiously.
Finishing the coffee in her cup, she shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never not worked for more than a week. I don’t even know what to do with that much free time,” she admitted.
“You could stay here,” he suggested.
“Yeah, right!” she laughed.
“I’m serious, Kate,” he told her. “I’ve got the space. You need to heal, I’m healing. It’s peaceful. You brought a bag.”
She laughed again, shaking her head. “I brought enough clothes for a week, not the entire summer, Castle.”
He shrugged. “I have a washing machine. And you can go get more clothes. Or go shopping here.”
She shook her head again. He really wanted her to spend the summer with him. In the Hamptons. Her. “Why don’t we just see how this week goes?” she finally suggested. It wasn’t a yes. But it wasn’t a no either.
xxxxx
Thanks again to all who read and review! I truly love knowing your thoughts on my chapters. And I hope this gave you a bit of a payoff for the buildup through the story so far.
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imzadi-caskett-huddy · 2 months
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Hell Hath No Fury (6/?)
Thank you to all who made it through the most case-heavy chapter I think I’ve ever written! But as so many of you have been kind enough to point out, it was necessary to get to this point in the story…which I hope you will all enjoy, and maybe see as a bit of a payoff for sticking around past the last chapter!
Thank you for all the reviews and kind words, and especially to those who reviewed as a guest that I wasn’t able to thank personally.
Unfortunately, I still don’t own Castle…
xxxxx
Stepping out of her car in the driveway of a huge house, Beckett only had a second to take in the view before a sharp pain shot through her side. Nearly 3 hours in a car with 2 badly broken and 1 slightly fractured rib had not been the best choice; then again, she realized as far as bad choices go, she’d made a lot worse recently. She leaned forward with her forearms bracing herself against the car and had to take a few moments to breathe and try to stretch out just a little before she could stand completely upright again and shut the door.
As she slowly walked around to the trunk of her car, she had time to finally really take in the full view of his house. Damn, Castle…you rich or something? Of course, she’d known he was well-off…the way he dropped money so freely, had so easily dropped 100 grand at the shot to catch her mother’s killer like it was not much more than a penny to him. But seeing this house that was borderline mansion territory really kind of smacked her in the face with his wealth.
She grabbed her bag with her left hand out of habit and instantly dropped it, wincing in pain and grabbing at her ribs. Right side, Kate…you can only lift with your right side. Granted, she’d been told she wasn’t supposed to lift anything at all, but she wasn’t about to not carry her own bag inside. She’d honestly fought with herself over whether to leave her bag in the car, just in case she decided she didn’t want to stay; she’d decided instead to go ahead and carry it inside. She could leave it at the door and make it clear to him she wasn’t agreeing to stay yet; she just didn’t want to have to go back out to her car to get the bag if her decision was yes.
She waited another moment for the pain to subside a little before grabbing her bag with her right hand this time. It was still painful, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t manage as she made her way to the door and knocked. When the door opened and she saw Castle standing there, the pain in her side was momentarily forgotten…because he looked better than he had in the hospital; he looked almost, almost like himself again. And she’d missed him. “Hi…” was all she could think of to say in the moment, and she realized that was definitely not her finest hour.
“Hi,” he returned, offering her a small smile before stepping back so that she could come inside. “So you’re staying?” he nodded toward the bag in her hand.
“Uh…you did offer,” she pointed out, though it wasn’t an answer. She set the bag down beside the door as she stepped inside, her eyes widening as she looked around. She felt like she was so far out of her league here, that it wasn’t funny.
“Right, I did…I do…I just thought…” Castle was stumbling over his words.
“That I wouldn’t say yes?” she finished his thought for him as he closed the door.
“Yeah,” he admitted, studying her for a moment. She had a scabbed-over cut on her lower lip and looked like she had a few scrapes on her like she’d been in some kind of fight. That wasn’t like her; she was too good of a cop, too good at defending herself to get scraped up by an average suspect. He was curious, but he wasn’t sure asking her about it was the best way to start the afternoon.
She saw him looking, and knew he was going to wonder. “I’m fine, Castle. Just a few scrapes.” And broken ribs. She downplayed her injuries, seeing no need to elaborate on how hurt she was just yet. “Where’s Martha and Alexis?” she changed the topic.
“They left about an hour ago to go back to the city. Alexis has school for another couple of weeks, so they come out Friday afternoon and go back Sunday morning,” he answered.
So they were alone. Nothing and no one to interrupt them. No case for her to be able to bury herself in and hide behind. If they really wanted to sort through everything unspoken between them and deal with the fall out of…well, everything…it seemed like it was now or never. “So…just us…” she breathed deeply, her eyes searching him.
“Just us,” he nodded, his eyes meeting hers and holding her gaze for a few moments. “I’m sorry I haven’t called you…” he added quietly.
“I understand why you didn’t,” she offered a small smile of understanding. Because she did understand why he’d been upset; this case, her mother’s case…the way she acted when she investigated it, the things it did to her…add to that the fact the shooter had been after her and shot him instead; she hadn’t been lying to him when she told him she couldn’t pick it up for the same reason a recovering alcoholic didn’t pick up a drink. “I didn’t exactly call you either.”
He was quiet for another few moments, just watching her. “I should show you to a guest room,” he realized, finally tearing his eyes away from her.
“Right.” Even though she hadn’t completely, officially agreed to stay. She was careful when she knelt down to pick up her bag, making sure she used her right hand. She was also careful to mask any pain she felt, in no hurry to reveal her medical status to him just yet. She wasn’t going to lie to him about her injuries, but she also wasn’t going to just volunteer the information either.
She figured it would come up when she told him about the shooter anyway, and she would tell him about the shooter.
The way she was moving was not lost on him, but he didn’t comment on it yet. He’d ask her later. He led her upstairs, not moving very quickly at all. He was still supposed to be taking it easy, and stairs weren’t exactly his friend at the moment.
“If you tell me which room it is, I’m sure I can manage to get there on my own. You don’t have to come up the stairs,” she told him, noticing the difficulty he was having. Of course, the stairs weren’t necessarily her best friend with broken ribs at the moment either. They really were quite a pair, weren’t they? In another scenario, this would have been laughable.
He shook his head. “I’m good. The stairs are good for me,” he insisted stubbornly.
She eyed him for another moment. “Ok, but if you fall on your ass, I’m saying ‘I told you so.’ And I’m taking a video.”
“That’s fair,” he agreed. He continued up the stairs slowly, careful to keep his breathing and heart rate slow. Once they finally made it to the top, he took another moment before walking down the hallway and giving her an abbreviated tour and finally stopping in front of one of the bedrooms. “You can have this room. There’s a bathroom inside…and a view of the ocean. You’ve got complete privacy.”
She stepped inside and moved to place her bag on the bed. It was a beautiful room, but the view she saw from the window was the most spectacular thing about it. “Castle…” she breathed.
“It’s extraordinary isn’t it?” he said softly from his spot in the doorway. He hadn’t entered the room, not wanting to intrude on her space. “It’s the perfect room for you.” Because he thought she was extraordinary; In spite of everything they had said to each other, everything they had been through, every way she frustrated him or pissed him off, he still thought she was the most extraordinary person he’d ever met.
Meeting his eyes when she turned back, she blushed slightly at his words coupled with the way he was looking at her. “Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?” she raised an eyebrow.
“I’m still medicated,” he shrugged with a smile. “I’m going to let you get settled. I’ll be downstairs if you want to talk before dinner.”
She returned his smile with one of her own. “We probably should, don’t you think? We have a lot to talk about.”
He nodded. “I’ll make us some coffee,” he agreed, turning to head downstairs and leaving her to
her own thoughts until she was ready to join him.
xxxxx
She took some time to try to prepare herself for the several discussions they needed to have, figuring they should start with what she’d been doing the last two weeks. After what she figured was enough time for him to have coffee made, she started down the stairs, following the smell to find the kitchen since she hadn’t had a tour of the lower level yet.
“Why don’t we take our coffee outside?” he suggested, handing her a cup made just the way he knew she liked it.
She brought the mug to her lips and inhaled the aroma deeply before taking a sip, savoring it. No one could make coffee taste the way he could; she didn’t know what he did that was so special, but even fancy coffee from coffee shops didn’t taste as good as his. And she had missed it recently. “Sure,” she agreed to his suggestion.
He led her outside to the back porch, gesturing for her to pick her seat before he sat down in a seat opposite her. “I need to talk to you about your mom’s case,” he started.
Taking a deep breath, she released it slowly. “Actually, can you let me go first?” she asked him. Seeing him nod, she took another deep breath. “The shooter's dead.” Seeing his eyes widen slightly, she continued. “I didn’t do it,” she told him. “I wanted to…I almost did. But I didn’t.”
“Then how?” he asked, not following.
“Another sniper took him out.”
“Another sniper? You’ve got another sniper after you?” he asked.
“No…I don’t think so. I think the sniper was just after Maddox. He screwed up by shooting you instead of me. I think the other sniper was cleaning up his mess so that the case could be buried again.”
Castle was quiet for a moment, digesting the information she’d shared with him. “Could be. Maybe not,” he told her. Seeing her questioning look, he took a deep breath. “I got a phone call yesterday from a man claiming to be a friend of Montgomery’s,” he started. “The man told me Montgomery sent him a file before he died…a file that had all the names, all the proof someone would need to bring down the man behind your mother’s murder. The file is supposed to be used to keep you safe,” he continued, watching her, trying to judge her reaction.
“Well it didn’t work since Maddox tried to kill me more than once,” she murmured.
Castle took note of her words to ask her about them later. He needed to finish with his explanation before he lost his nerve. “He told me he didn’t get the file until after the shooting. But now that he has it, he struck a deal. If they come after you, he uses the information in the file to expose the person behind your mother’s murder. But you can’t go digging into your mother’s case anymore. If you do, they will come for you.” He gave her a minute to digest the words. “He said he’s already taken measures to make sure you’re safe,” he added. “So, maybe it was him who took out the shooter…Maddox, did you say his name was?”
She stood and began pacing with her coffee cup as she digested the information Castle had just given her. She supposed it was possible this man who had called Castle had been the one to take care of Maddox and clean up the files; it made just as much sense as her theory that it was Maddox’s employer cleaning up his mess. Either way the case got buried again.
He watched her pace, watched her thinking. “Beckett…” he started.
“Do you believe him? This…man who called you?” she asked, turning to him then. “Do you believe that if I stop digging, I’ll really be safe?”
“The way this man talked…yeah. Yeah I do,” he answered honestly. “Look, I know what the case means to you…but I don’t want to see you killed for this. Your dad doesn’t want to see you throw your life away for this.”
She narrowed her eyes at the mention of her father. “What does my dad have to do with this?”
He sighed, realizing he hadn’t told her about that either. “Your dad came to see me…before Montgomery was killed. He asked me to try to convince you that your life is worth more than your mother’s death. His words, not mine,” he told her quickly, not wanting to be on the receiving end of her wrath for words he hadn’t said.
Great. Her father was conspiring with Castle against her now too. “What else did my dad say?” she finally asked.
Well, she wasn’t yelling at him. Castle took that as a positive sign, at least. “Not much, really. Just that he was worried about you. That you cared about me. That unless I was dumber than I look, he knew I cared about you too. And that I should stop you from throwing your life away. Again, his words, not mine.” He was quiet for a moment before he had to ask. “How mad are you right now?”
She glanced at him before taking a deep breath, wincing slightly at the inhale. “At my dad? A lot, actually. But at you? Not as much,” she admitted softly.
He noticed her wince and couldn’t not ask anymore. “Are you okay? You haven’t seemed
quite…right… since you got here. You said Maddox tried to kill you more than once, and you’re too good at your job to get scuffed up by some random arrest. So the split lip, the scrapes…I’m going to assume are from Maddox?”
She knew it would come out sooner or later. And she’d promised herself she wasn’t going to lie to him about it. “Yes,” she nodded. “And some broken ribs.”
“Broken ribs?” he immediately took a step toward her, only to be stopped by her holding up her hand.
“I’m fine.”
“Broken ribs is not fine,” he shook his head.
She sighed. “They hurt, but I’m fine, Castle. It’s nothing I can’t handle. It just hurts to breathe a little too deeply. The doctor said they’ll heal in about 6 weeks.”
“So you’re off work for 6 weeks…which is why you were able to bring a bag to stay for a few days,” Castle began to put the pieces together.
Beckett looked down at her coffee for a moment. “It’s a little longer than 6 weeks,” she admitted, taking a slow drink of her coffee. Seeing his questioning look, she bit her lip slightly. “I kind of got suspended. I’m not allowed back until September.”
“What?!” he almost laughed. “I’m both outraged and impressed by that.”
She rolled her eyes at his reaction. “Shut up.”
“I’m sorry,” he chuckled. “What happened? How did you get suspended?”
She sighed. “The new captain hates me.” She shot him another look when he laughed at her words. “I’m serious, Castle! She did her whole hostile takeover and decided to use me to make an example out of so that everyone else in the precinct would see what happens when you go rogue.”
He couldn’t help but laugh some more. “You did go rogue…”
“It was my case! You’re my partner! She didn’t want to let me go after the shooter!” She cut him a look because his laughing was not helping. “Castle, if you don’t stop laughing, I swear to God…” she threatened him.
“Okay, okay…I’ll stop,” he held up his hands in surrender. “So September, huh?”
“Yeah, September,” she answered, her eyes daring him to start laughing at her again.
He gave it a few moments before getting serious again. “What are you going to do with your mother’s case?”
She was quiet for a bit, unsure of the answer herself. “I think for now…I don’t rock the boat,” she finally decided, looking out over the beach. “Whoever that second sniper was cleaned up the mess and took all the evidence. I don’t have anything to really run with. And this guy who called you says I’m safe for the time being…” she trailed off with a shrug. She wasn't going to abandon the case, but she was going to put it down for awhile...at least until she could find another lead.
“Is that enough for you?” he asked her seriously.
“It’s enough for now,” she answered, turning to him with a small smile. “I’ll get justice for my mom one day. I’d like you there when I do.”
He met her smile with one of his own, stepping closer to her and taking her hand in his. “I’d like that too.” When she didn’t pull her hand away, he felt a little braver. “So…what are you going to do this summer?” he asked curiously.
Finishing the coffee in her cup, she shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never not worked for more than a week. I don’t even know what to do with that much free time,” she admitted.
“You could stay here,” he suggested.
“Yeah, right!” she laughed.
“I’m serious, Kate,” he told her. “I’ve got the space. You need to heal, I’m healing. It’s peaceful. You brought a bag.”
She laughed again, shaking her head. “I brought enough clothes for a week, not the entire summer, Castle.”
He shrugged. “I have a washing machine. And you can go get more clothes. Or go shopping here.”
She shook her head again. He really wanted her to spend the summer with him. In the Hamptons. Her. “Why don’t we just see how this week goes?” she finally suggested. It wasn’t a yes. But it wasn’t a no either.
xxxxx
Thanks again to all who read and review! I truly love knowing your thoughts on my chapters. And I hope this gave you a bit of a payoff for the buildup through the story so far.
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englishstrawbie · 1 year
Note
song prompt: "Take me into your loving arms, kiss me under the light of a thousand stars, place your head on my beating heart, I'm thinking out loud, maybe we found love right where we are" - Thinking Out Loud - Ed Sheeran for Kate/Lucy please :)
Well, this made me all soft and mushy. 🥰 I couldn't resist using this prompt to write a little something about their reunion in this week's episode. I hope you like it! 😊
A link to the song
>>>>>>>>>>
Kate leans against the railings, turning her face towards the breeze and closing her eyes, letting the cool night air wash over her. Behind her, the party is in full swing and her ears prick at the sound of her girlfriend’s laughter as she is spun around the dancefloor by Ernie. Kate doesn’t need to see Lucy’s face to know how wide her smile is or how bright her eyes are as she dances the night away with her friends.
Kate feels a swell of pride in the pit of her stomach, knowing she played a part in making it happen. And okay, she let the secret slip, but it doesn’t stop the evening from being any less special to celebrate Lucy’s homecoming.
Happiness and contentment settle on her chest. She didn’t realise it until today but Kate has been carrying the weight of missing Lucy in her bones and muscles over the last four months; and now she is back, everything feels better. The same as it always was, but also different.
Kate feels different. She has become more settled in her job with the FBI, more confident, more at ease with her colleagues. She can’t wait for Lucy to see it too.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
A hand slips around Kate’s waist and a warm body curls into her side. Kate smiles, breathing in the familiar scent of Lucy’s perfume, before turning her head.
“Hey you.”
Lucy grins up at her. “Are you okay?”
Kate nods. “Just thinking about how happy I am that you’re home.”
She wraps an arm around Lucy’s shoulders, her hand resting on the nape of her neck, her fingers playing with her thick hair.
“I really really missed you.”
Lucy’s eyes shine as she closes the gap between their bodies. “I really really missed you too.”
Kate lowers her head, squishing her nose against Lucy’s for a moment, and then pressing their lips together. She tastes sweet from the cocktails she has been drinking all night. Lucy is the first to deepen the kiss, her hand tugging Kate’s hips closer.
The noise around them dims and all Kate can hear is the hum that escapes from Lucy’s lips as she trails her fingertips down the back of her neck. She smiles into their kiss, only breaking apart when the music changes to something slower.
“Come and dance with me,” Lucy says, sliding her hand into Kate’s and pulling her towards the makeshift dancefloor.
Kate’s cheeks flush, knowing that all eyes are on them. She knows she shouldn’t care; after all, she sang in front of all of them not that long ago, but this feels different, more intimate, as she pulls Lucy into her arms, her skin tingling as Lucy’s hands rest on her back, finding the spot where the material parts to expose her skin. With Kate in flat sandals and Lucy in wedged heels, Lucy’s short stature means she has the perfect resting spot for her cheek against Kate’s chest. Kate drops her head, her temple resting on the top of Lucy’s hair, the curls tickling her skin.
They sway slowly with the music, their movements perfectly in sync, their bodies moulded together. Life feels perfect right then.
“I love you, Kate.”
She says it quietly, just loud enough so that only Kate will hear it. The words overwhelm her and Kate’s chest shudders as she breathes. Happy tears threaten to fall and she blinks them back, sniffing loudly. Lucy looks up when she hears her, the smile dropping from her face.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
Kate shakes her head, rolling her eyes at herself, trying to downplay it, but Lucy isn’t having any of it.
“It’s okay,” Lucy says softly. “I get it.”
Lucy gets her in a way that no-one else does or ever has except for her brother. She feels seen and understood and loved. Oh, so loved.
“I love you, too.”
Kate kisses her again with as much passion as she can; God, she will never tire of kissing Lucy Tara’s lips for the rest of her life.
“Kate…” Lucy giggles as she gets carried away, pulling away for air.
Kate bites her bottom lip bashfully, but Lucy doesn’t care, not really. There is a fire in her eyes that hasn’t dulled since she set foot on land again. She grabs Kate’s hand once more.
“Come on, let’s go home.”
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charlotteswebbbbb · 1 year
Text
What's the vibe? #7
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Politics:
We have a new Prime Minister, haha. Rishi Sunak, the former chancellor under Boris Johnson won the Conservative party vote on Monday 24th October versus Penny Mordant and his former boss Boris Johnson. Just announced today (Mon 31st) is that British people will have to pay higher taxes, meaning less disposable income in the future.
The Met Office has also forecasted that the chances of a colder winter are higher than usual. Meaning that there risk of a blackout is still on the horizon and if/when it does happen it'll be in January + February between 4-7pm. I think if this happens then it'll be a big mood hitter for the nation.
"The U.K. is more vulnerable than some other European countries. It has relatively little stored gas, and over the past decade has come to rely heavily on wind power. A period of still weather can reduce wind power and jack up demand for gas." - WSJ
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Elon bought twitter and now wants to charge $8 for verified accounts. Will it crash or fly? (After watching his documentary on the BBC...it's going to be very shaky!) What's the future of social media? I think the reason Twitter works so well is because it's fast moving, images and text, insider culture, access to anyone high and low culture.
A lot of people are moving to Mastodon - I don't think this is the future, it's too decentralised? Maybe these are my first assumptions and I'm wrong. Something to explore.
Update on 9th Nov:
Twitter laying off half of it's staff - the users going into crisis...this week we're preparing for Meta to lay off thousands of workers....
Topics of the week:
Friendship:
This is a really interesting tweet (maybe more so for Gen Z and how they have grown up in a more digital world then other gens)
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But also when put into context:
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This is an American study but also YouGov has similar stats on friendship.
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Have we created a world where because of other economic/social changes, relationships and work is more important than genuine friendship? Sidenote: are there any examples of friendships in popular culture right now similar to Friends, Living Single or even more recently Girls?
Dating:
I think that right now people are looking for deep human connection in real life settings. Dating apps feel very over? Even though in the UK culturally they are how people meet but we're a very socially insular nation so no surprises.
Addition from 9th Nov - more about deep friendships. We're all searching for a deeper understanding. Cue Kate Bush.
Royalty:
Even though, culturally I don't feel they're that important to young people with "41% of 18-24 year olds now say Britain should have an elected head of state, while only 31% would like to see the monarchy continue" (YouGov). This drops to 27% to 25-49 year olds that say that they think that Britain should have an elected head of state.
That grouping in the latter is quite wide and those people would have seen the charity work that Diana, Princess of Wales did and her death, the Queen Mother dying, Charles and Camilla getting married, Prince William and Harry coming of age so it's quite embedded into that generation's memory and into that era of British history.
Here are some stats of who are the most popular royals:
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Statista
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Ipsos
I honestly think that the staff at Buckingham Palace have studied this and I think also during a cost of living crisis and the mood being quite fraught, they'd make it a more quiet affair. As quiet as a coronation can be? Also Prince Harry's book Spare is coming out next year (10th Jan 2023) which will probably make his popularity plummet more.
Products of the Future! :
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Coffee! New sustainable options for coffee include Coffee B which is a brand that sells coffee machines and coffee balls. This new coffee product is available in Switzerland, France and Germany (soon). There is a seaweed material protecting the balls and inside is the ground coffee. The ball is 100% compostable in home gardens and breaks down within weeks in damp conditions.
youtube
At the end of the video James Hoffman mentions about an open system and what they are aiming for - will they open up to other coffee brands in the future? or create a “Walled” system?
Another product is just instant espresso. We've tried instant coffee, and espresso powder but now Blue Bottle Coffee has developed a craft instant espresso. So now you can have quality coffee everywhere with just water (and milk).
Ableton Note - making music on the go. This is probably really helpful for production heads and maybe beginners?
youtube
Homage Year - black owned, vegan leather - homageyear.com
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Something fun:
youtube
Reading list:
Interesting brands that actually do use sustainability like Billi London and Bottega's biodegradable rubber boots.
From the article:
"To ensure their products are truly compostable, KENT partnered with an LA composting facility. Results showed they break down in approximately 90 days, and act as a source of nutrients for the soil. Like Billi-Hardwick, Grace focused on items which aren’t likely candidates for being donated or resold at end-of-life, going as far as launching a compost club in partnership with a farm in late 2021. This made the circular system work even for people who don’t have access to it locally."
Things to listen to:
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homerradio ep 1 - ft CRYSTALLMESS - amazing French DJ.
0 notes
uncpanda · 3 years
Text
Voicemail
Prompt 7: Whispering in their ear, before kissing just below the ear.
Warnings: Drinking.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader
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 “Okay. Okay. Okay. Serious question time!” Penny sings out the words as she shoves new margaritas into everyone’s hands. You’re already slightly tipsy from the first one, and you resolve to sip on this one. Emily doesn’t seem to have the same problem as she takes a giant gulp of hers. Penny does the same, and a pregnant JJ and Kate just laugh. They’re the only ones abstaining, but you can tell they’re enjoying the tipsy or drunk  versions of you guys. 
You swallow your sip, “There’s no such thing as a serious question at one of your sleepovers Penny.” 
She pouts, “Well now there is! If you had to choose one of the guys to like. . . spend the rest of your life with, who would it be?” 
You choke on your next sip, and Emily starts thumping her hand against your back. You nudge her hand away when you can breathe again. You had not been expecting that.
JJ smiles, “I’m married, so . . .” 
“Will doesn’t exist in this conversation. Who would it be?” 
JJ is quiet for a moment before she shrugs, “Spence. He’s kind, and sweet, and he’d make a good dad.” 
All eyes go to Kate and she tilts her head, “Morgan.” You all laugh, at the obvious choice, especially when Penny goes, “Saaaaaaammmmmeee.” 
You snort a laugh, and then it’s Emily’s turn, “Does it have to be a guy, or can it be one of you.” 
Penny shrugs, “Whatever floats your boat.” 
“Penny then. We’d get a couple of cats and be very happy together.” 
You all laugh as eyes turn towards you. You take a rather long sip of your margarita all while inching away from the group. Because you know if you lie they’ll be able to tell. It’s one of the downsides to working with profilers. You don’t get away with lying.
A hand clasps down on your ankle while another steals your margarita away. You glare up at Penny, as Emily literally drags you back towards the group. You look at Kate and JJ, “Help?” 
They laugh, “Whatever is said here is kept a secret.” 
JJ nods, “I doubt our husbands would be happy hearing this conversation.” 
You pout, and refuse to say anything. That’s when a drunk Emily literally sits on you. You last about five minutes before you give in, “Fine!” 
She rolls off of you and you sit off glaring at her, “I would choose Hotch.” 
There’s silence after your discussion, and Garcia actually drops her phone, “What?” 
“If I had to marry someone on the team it would be Hotch.” 
JJ and Kate exchange a sober look before Kate asks, “Really? Can I ask why?” 
Emily nods, “Isn’t he like fifteen years older than you?” 
“Thirteen, and age gaps are common in my family. That doesn’t bother me. I find him very attractive. He’s always calm, and in charge, but he genuinely cares. He’s a really good dad. And he looks daaamn good in a bulletproof vest.” You cross your arms over your chest and pout. 
JJ blinks, “So this isn’t just a you had to pick someone. You have an actual crush on Hotch?” 
“I hate all of you.” There’s laughter, as you get up and move to the bathroom. Once you’re safely inside you take some time to splash some water on your face. For five years you’d managed to hide your crush on your boss. You had managed it by staying quiet most of the time, and being naturally shy helped too. But Hotch had always been kind to you, and you couldn’t really help your crush. And you hadn’t been lying when you said he looked good in a bulletproof vest. You’d managed to snap a picture of him in it once. You had the picture saved and under lock and key on your phone. 
And now your secret was out there. All thanks to two margaritas and nosy friends. By the time you get back out there, they’ve moved onto the hottest celebrities. You go ahead and switch to water and fade into the background. 
You’re grateful for the water the next day when Penny and Emily wake up with the hangover of the century and you just have a small headache. You’re enjoying their pain while you drink coffee when Kate nudges you. You smile at her and she leans in, “You know if you wanted to make a move on . . .” 
“Finish that sentence and I’ll kill you. It’s a silly crush.” 
She smiles gently and places a hand on your arm, “And how long have you had the silly crush?” You don’t respond, “Thought so. If you do decide to go for it, we’re happy to help. Because, personally, I think you two would be good together.” 
You slip out of the apartment after another hour and head home to rest. It’s Sunday which means you’re back to work tomorrow. You sleep most of the day. And when you wake up, it to several missed calls from Penny. You listen to the voice mails as you pull out stuff for dinner. Most of them are just instructing you to call her back, and then you get to the last one. 
“Okay, look. You’re going to kill me. And I am so sorry. I really am. I don’t know how this happened. But somehow, while we were playing our little game last night, I might have accidentally dialed Hotch’s cellphone, and may have left a message on his phone with your . . . confession. I am so . . .” 
Your phone drops before you can finish listening. You scramble for it, and call her, she doesn’t say anything when she picks up, but you sure do, “I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!” 
“I am so sorry!” 
“Sorry? Sorry? Penny, I’m going to have to fake my death and change my hair, and move to a different country, or I can just die of embarrassment!”
“I tried to hack his phone to erase it. But he had already . . . listened to it.”  
You don’t get any sleep that night. You spend it texting the rest of the girls, and trying to come up with a plan. When you slip inside the bullpen the next day Hotch is already in his office, and you avoid him like the plague. You can feel his eyes on you a few times throughout the day. You want to hide under your desk. Instead, you hide for part of the day in Penny’s office. 
“Have I mentioned how sorry I am?” 
You munch down on one of the cookies she baked you. Prentiss has already flown back to England, but Kate and JJ are sticking by your side. And then you get called out on a case. You keep as much distance between you and Hotch as possible.
You move through the case, partnering with either Kate or JJ and you avoid Aaron’s gaze like a pro, because that jerk is still looking at you. Why couldn’t he just pretend he’d never hear the damn voicemail!  
It’s only when you all have to put on your bullet proof vests that you start to crack. You can feel the heat in your cheeks. And when Kate and JJ start giggling you swear vengeance. In the end you get the unsub, and you’re grateful, because you’d really like to be home and away from your team at this point. You may even put in for some vacation days. You haven’t used any in like three years, you’re due.
And feeling the first bit of comfort you’ve felt in days at that idea, you disembark from the SUV with Kate and JJ. You’re nearly to the door when you hear Hotch call your name. It takes everything you have to keep from stumbling. You look at Kate and JJ out of the corner of your eye, JJ is texting furiously. 
You sigh, and head back towards Hotch. You stop in front of him, but look at a spot just past his shoulder. It isn’t difficult to get away with it, since it’s night time. “Take a quick walk with me?” 
“Well, I promised JJ I would . . .” 
“It won’t take long.” 
You sigh and follow after him. When you reach the edge of the parking lot, near a small grove of trees you start preparing yourself mentally. Taking a deep breath, you turn to apologize or give an excuse, or something, when you find Hotch’s lips on yours. Your eyes go wide for just a second before you sink into the kiss. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, and when you pull away so does he. 
You’re both slightly out of breath, and he presses a kiss on to your forehead, before cupping your face, “Sweet girl.”
 You can;t form a complete sentence, “You . . .me . . . voicemail? Garcia . . . Kill. . . .margaritas?” 
His lips quirk, and he leans down again to kiss you, before trailing a line of kisses to your ear where he whispers, “I heard the voicemail. I hear the kind things you had to say. And they made me so happy, because I never would have thought you’d feel the same way about me, as I feel about you.” He presses a kiss right below your ear, and you screw your eyes shut. 
“Hotch. . .” 
“Aaron. When it’s just us, it’s Aaron.” 
Your eyes go wide at the insinuation there, “You mean. . .” 
He kisses you again, “I’d like to take you out when we get home.” 
You’re nearly breathless, “I’d really like that.” 
“And maybe, I’ll wear the vest.” 
You sigh a little dreamily, “I’d really like that.” 
And then just as you’re about to kiss him again, there’s a loud ringing. You jolt up, eyes wide, as your room comes into focus. You’re breathing heavy,  as the alarm goes off. You collapse back onto your pillow after hitting the snooze button; it was only a dream. 
You feel a hand settle on your back and you look over at a sleepy Aaron. His brow is pinched, “You okay?” 
“Yeah. Yeah. Just a weird dream?”
“Hmm?” 
“I was drinking with the girls. And you and I weren’t together. And we were playing this game where we had to choose a member of the team to marry. And I chose you.” 
“Glad to hear it.” 
“But like I said we weren’t together. But somehow Penny had dialed you and my confession of choosing you and why was left as a voicemail on your phone. So I avoided you like the plague for three days until you cornered me and kissed me and told me you felt the same way and offered to wear your vest on a date.” 
He’s more awake now, “My bullet proof vest?” 
“Yes.” 
“Why would I wear that on a date?” 
“Because one of my reasons for choosing you was you look incredibly hot in that vest.” 
He’s amused now, you can tell, “Is this a real life thing too? Or just a crazy dream thing?” 
“Oh, very real. That and when you get that, don’t mess with me tone, like in Alaska when you told that dad to sit down and shut up. That’s how we ended up with Genevive.” 
“And the vest?” 
“Is how we ended up with ELoise. It’s also how we ended up with Cora.” 
“How did we end up with this one?” He points at your protruding belly, and your mouth goes into a straight line. 
“Margaritas.” 
He closes his eyes, a smile on his lips, “Things are starting to make sense.” 
You grin before snuggling into his side. You press a kiss to his chest as his arm wraps around you. “I love you.” 
“Even without the vest?” 
“Even without the vest.” 
479 notes · View notes
garbagevanfleet · 3 years
Text
Brightest Blue (series)
PART TWELVE
Pairing: Josh x reader Warnings: THIS CHAPTER IS 18+! Explicit sexual content Summary:  Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place.
Notes: ahh, sweet resolution. Writing this chapter made me euphorically happy. Thank you for reading! Extra thank you for liking, reblogging, or replying to this fic. I’m so happy people like it as much as I do. 
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taglist: @valleyd0ll​ @satingrass-maidensfair​ @guitarfingers​ @thebohemianpenguin​ @peaceisouranthem​ @oblvions​ @hansonobsessed​ @myownparadise96​ @anditsmywholeheart​ @kill-fear-the-power-of-lies​ @bigblack-catattack​
MASTERPOST
The final week before the play was an oddly enjoyable hell. Every second felt like it flew by and dragged on for eternity simultaneously. 
You had skipped class on Thursday, just to make sure you had every costume just the way you wanted it. Your very favorite one to work on had been Alice’s dress - you put more work into it than most of your classes for the past couple of weeks, but by the time it was done, it could have been in a storybook. 
As it hung from your closet door, you took a moment to be proud of yourself, admiring the lace and the neat trimmings. 
Kate showed up around 5, and somehow you knew she would, even though she never mentioned a thing when you told her you were staying home. 
“Hi, you,” she greeted, letting herself in as she slipped past you. “Did you get it all done?”
“Well, if I had another week, I’m sure I could find more that I could work on with them, but they’re pretty great,” you agreed. “You want a glass of wine?” 
She shook her head at you. “Actually, I’m taking you shopping tonight.”
“Shopping?” 
“Yeah, have you thought about what you’re going to wear to the play?” she inquired, sounding smug like she knew you really hadn’t.
You frowned at her, unsure. “I was thinking probably something simple.”
She rolled her eyes. “No, it should be something classy, pretty,” she said. 
“And warm,” you reminded, thinking of the snow outside. 
“Sure, sure, yeah. So, are you coming?”
You gave her a sweet smile. “Let me get my coat.”
+++
“I don’t think I can wear this,” you said through a grimace as you turned this way and then that in the mirror. Kate had let herself right into the dressing room with you, her long legs taking up more space than you could afford in such a small room. “My whole vagina would freeze.”
“It’s not that short,” she giggled.
“Yeah, but it’s just an open dress. My legs are exposed!” 
“True, maybe you could wear leggings under it,” she suggested. 
“If I were going to wear leggings, I’d want a longer dress I think. Maybe something mid-calf. Then I could wear booties.”
She looked like she was considering it for a moment before nodding. “Yes, that seems like it would be super cute. What about your hair?”
“How about we find the dress first and go from there,” you teased. 
Once you were dressed again and had everything hung back on the “reject” rack, you ventured out into the store again, weaving through mannequins and lines of garments. You went to grab a hanger when you snapped your hand back in pain. 
“Damn,” you hissed. She turned to give you a concerned look. “My fingers are so sore from sewing. I’m kind of thinking they might never recover.”
You were joking, but she gave you a sympathetic look anyway. “You know this play is just as much yours as it is his, right?” 
You huffed a laugh. “Oh my god, that’s so dramatic.”
“Well, pretty damn close,” she objected, pulling a dress from the rack in front of her and laying it over her forearm. “His ass would have been grass without you.”
“We can thank Rachel for that,” you quipped, chronically annoyed by the thought of her. 
She paused what she was doing and met your eyes. “Did you figure out why she quit?”
You gave her a confused frown. Now that you were thinking about it, Josh never did tell you why. You shook your head. “Why?”
“Well, it sounds like she kinda had a thing for Josh. Like a big thing. And that’s why she signed up to work with him in the first place.”
You nodded for her to continue, your stomach feeling tight. 
“And I guess it went okay for a little while - he seemed receptive to it apparently, but she found out he had a female roommate and saw you guys eating lunch together all of the time, you know?” Kate continued carefully. 
You hummed, trying to seem casual, but you felt a little like you’d just been sucker-punched. 
“How did you hear about this?” 
“Grapevine,” she replied with a smile. “What do you think of this one?” 
She was stroking her fingers down a long dress, black with flowers in muted colors. “That would go really well with my coat actually. We have to accept the reality that I’m going to have to wear a coat the whole time.”
She smiled at you in an oddly genuine way for her. “I know you didn’t ask for my advice, but you should go for it.”
You gave her a confused look. “I have to try it on first.”
She put a hand flat on your chest. “Not the dress, you goober. Josh.”
You stared blankly at the ground until you were sure of what you wanted to say. “I don’t want to fuck this up. I can’t lose him as a friend - I’d be devastated.” 
“Why would you think you’d fuck it up? I don’t know that you could, to be honest.” You watched as she grabbed a pair of earrings, dangling off of their cardboard hanger. She started back off toward the dressing room, and you followed close behind.  
“We’ll have to wait and see what happens.”
+++
You helped Josh get all of the costumes to the school on Friday, hanging them up on racks backstage. You took the time to make them all tags, writing the kid’s names in fancy, flowing script. 
Josh was working on getting the first set perfectly into place, so everything was ready to go for showtime the next day. Despite how clearly nervous he was, you could hear him handing out compliments and words of encouragement to the stagehands - even his constructive advice was said in a way that felt like every person in that room was his best friend. 
He had left you mostly alone to get the wardrobe ready, but when he popped back into your area, he crouched down next to where you were sat on the floor. 
“I probably won’t be home until late again tonight,” he informed with a half-frown. “There’s a lot I still have to get into place.”
You gave him an understanding smile. “Don’t worry about me, worry about you. You need a good night’s sleep for tomorrow.”
“I know,” he replied, looking thankful. “Show me some of these costumes.”
You had been oddly flattered that he had trusted you enough to have them done - and done well - by the time of the play; he hadn’t asked to see them even once until right then. 
“You can look through them, but they won’t look right until they’re on a child.”
His face lit up like that was the best news of the day. “That’s perfect because the kids should be here for dress rehearsal in about ten minutes.”
You smiled at him as he stood and helped you up with two outstretched hands. 
He ran his hands over the rack, pausing on the one you knew he would. With a perplexed look, he pulled the door mouse costume and held it up. 
“This is-” he started, but you cut him off. 
“I know, I really hope it’s okay, but I found a sheet in your room with some rough designs on it, and I really liked a lot of them,” you admitted sheepishly. 
“You were going through my stuff?” he asked with a grin.
You shook your head. “Just that. And it was when I went in to get Penny.”
His fingers slid down the tail of the costume, made from a string of peach-hued rope - just like his draft had called for. His brown eyes flicked up at you, looking like melted chocolate under the warm-colored lights. “I literally don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank you for this.”
You could feel a blush rising on your cheeks, the sensation of flower petals brushing your stomach lining. “Let’s make it through the show without them falling to pieces first.” Your tone had been a teasing one, but he looked completely unaffected. 
The intensity of the moment was slowly creeping up on you - you weren’t sure if he was going to kiss you or cry. In the end, he did neither. 
“Do you want to stick around to see the kids in their outfits?” he offered, but you shook your head. 
“I’m actually really excited to see it all for the first time tomorrow,” you replied with a smile that was immediately matched by his. 
“Alright, I like that idea.” He paused a moment before speaking again. “Don’t wait up for me, okay?”
You chuckled at him, pulling your jacket on to leave. “No promises.”
+++
That evening you spent a long time in the bathtub with a bottle of wine. You had homework to do - and you tried for a couple of hours, but you just couldn’t be fucked with it, so you turned the water up as hot as it would go and rested your head on a rolled-up towel.
You felt silly about it now, but you were scared that once this was over, you would feel lost without the costumes to worry about. That moment never came for you - at least not with the costumes. 
You definitely couldn’t stop thinking about Josh.
There was this terrible feeling in the pit of your gut - a guilt, heavy like you swallowed a pile of gravel.
When you got out, you haphazardly dried off and left the wet towel on the bathroom floor. You got changed into a long-sleeved shirt and your pajama shorts and then grabbed what was left of your wine and made your way to Josh’s room. After you laid out on his bed, you rolled over onto your side and stared into the fish tank, pressing your fingers against the glass. 
Penny had been snoozing in her log decoration, but when she spotted you, she hurried out to greet your hand.
“I fucked up, Penny,” you whispered. You imagined she was making an angry face at you, but in reality, she was just floating there, probably wondering where her dinner was.
You glanced at the time on your phone. 
8:32 pm
You grabbed the little jar of flakes off of his bedside table and strained to drop a couple into the water. She gobbled them up excitedly, her safety-orange colored fins waving in the water. 
You had no idea when it happened, but you woke up to the dresser drawer by your head opening. You sat up, irregular heartbeat making you feel jittery.  
Josh turned to look at you, a warm smile on his lips, the sun illuminating his tan face. “Hey,” he greeted. 
“Oh my god, it’s light outside. What time is it?” you asked groggily.
“About 8:30. I got home at midnight and you were passed out in here, so I covered you up,” he informed, making your face run warm.
You pushed your messy hair away from your face. “I’m sorry, I was laying in here with Penny and I must have fallen asleep.” You glanced around in confusion. “I didn’t even feel you get out of bed.”
“Oh, I slept on the couch,” he replied, picking a pair of pants from his top drawer. 
You frowned, casting your eyes down to the bedsheets. He thought you didn’t want to sleep next to him, and instead of waking you up to move you, he slept out on the couch. The idea made you want to cry.
“Will you sit with me a moment?” you asked, patting the spot next to you. 
He gave you an apologetic smile. “I really want to, but I need to be over to the school in twenty minutes. I am planning on being back here around 4 to eat something quick and then get ready.”
“Okay.” You clambered out of bed as he pulled his shirt off and changed into a new one. “I think I’ll probably already be at Kate’s, but if you want to take my car you can.”
He shot you a smirk. “Really? You’re going to let me drive?”
You crossed your arms over your chest, putting on your best mom voice. “Yes, but only if you promise to be very safe.”
He put his hand over his heart. “I promise.”
“I’ll see you after the show,” you said, maybe a little too sweetly, and brushed a curl out of his eyes. It was well worth it to see the tops of his cheeks turn pink. 
+++
As Kate took you both to the theater, you couldn’t kick the nervous butterflies. She looked beautiful - you’d never seen her in anything but mom jeans, but she was dressed in a plaid skirt, tights, and a black turtleneck sweater. She had insisted on doing your makeup - sitting you down at her vanity and pulling a barstool close enough she could reach you. You had known better than to complain about the amount of time she took - besides, you had gotten over to her house so early, you had nothing but time. When she was done, you barely recognized yourself. Somehow she had made your eyes look bigger, your lashes longer and darker, and your face sharper. You were used to wearing foundation and concealer, but your face felt almost a little heavy under all she’d put on you. 
She had laid out a few extra things for you - a pair of boots and a set of green gem earrings and you gave her a thankful smile as you donned them. The truly hard part was resisting hugging her very affectionate polar bear - which was actually a dog, she informed you. You had tried once, but she scolded you, reminding you that white fur didn’t look good on black fabric.
You had whispered a promise to him that you would be back soon to give him all the love he could handle.
When she pulled up to the school, she had you get out at the doors and grab the tickets while she went to park, and to your pleasant surprise, Jake was waiting for you. He helped you out of the car with an outstretched hand. You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to wear, but it definitely wasn’t a button-up shirt with the top few buttons undone and nothing underneath. 
“You’re literally making me cold just looking at you,” you teased, wrapping your arms comfortingly around your frame. You had earned a grin from him.
“I’m wearing a coat,” he reasoned, holding up the hem of a light peacoat to prove his point.
You rolled your eyes at him. “C’mon, let’s get our tickets.”
He pulled two tickets out of said coat’s pocket and handed them to you. “You mean these?”
“Did you buy these?” you asked through a frown.
“One of them. I bought mine and Kate’s, and I think you can guess who got yours,” he responded with a genuine smile. 
You took one of the tickets wordlessly, but you couldn’t suppress a smile. 
As soon as Kate had joined you in the foyer, you took your seats. Despite it being only a college production, you were shocked at how many people had come to the opening night. There were only a handful of open spots left when they flashed the lights, and you could just imagine Josh giving the kids a pep talk backstage. 
The show started with a fun, bouncy opening music number and you leaned against Kate as you looked on at all the set pieces you’d both worked so hard on. You had thought your job was hard, but Kate had to round up a bunch of art students to help her work on the hundreds of different props.
Leave it to Josh to treat a children’s musical like a broadway show. 
The first half of the show went pretty much perfectly - everyone seemed to remember their lines, and if they didn’t, you didn’t notice. You couldn’t help but smile in pride as you watched all of your costumes appear on stage, one by one. 
During intermission, your head snapped over when you heard a soda tab opening and you shot Kate a disapproving look - you’re pretty sure you’d read a “no outside food and drink” sign at the front entrance. She gave you an unapologetic smile as she took a long sip and then handed the can over to Jake. He laughed under his breath.
The time went by too fast, and the closer it got to the closing act, the more anxious you got. The final scene was a triumphant number, exciting and big. You could tell that a lot of the audience was family members because when the curtain fell, they all began to stand. Hooting and hollering filled the huge room, and you almost cried when the curtain rose again to reveal some of the kids wearing smiles that spread all the way to their ears. It started with the minor characters - the cards, the flowers, and then the Cheshire Cat, the Hatter, the Caterpillar, the White Rabbit. Then finally, The Queen of Hearts, followed by a grinning Alice. 
They waved excitedly at the crowd, eating up the standing ovation like it was candy. You saw Kate with her hand pressed over her mouth and the biggest eyes you’d ever seen her wear - she was absolutely in love with them, as was the entire rest of the room. 
A moment or two later, Josh stepped out onto the stage. You recalled back when you had first met him and had told him you couldn’t imagine him in business casual because he was wearing a dark blue suit, a pair of black dress shoes, and a proud grin. As the kids made a spot for him in the line, he crouched down in between them and gave a couple of them a pat on the back. You saw him speak something at the girl playing Alice, and it must have been praise because she gave him a toothy smile in return. 
When the cast members had returned backstage, you had told Kate and Jake to leave when they were ready - you were going to wait for Josh. Both of them had given you knowing smiles that you brushed off easily enough, but they left all the same with a parting word of “text me” from Kate. 
You gave it enough time that most of the audience had left - all the kids joining their parents with promises of ice cream and treats - before you made your way backstage. 
After looking for him for a moment, you spotted Josh chatting with an older man excitedly by the back exit. When the older man (his professor, you assumed) laid eyes on you, he gestured toward you with a, “Please head home, we’ll see you tomorrow. You’ve done a great job.”
Josh turned to look at you and the smile melted from his lips as he nodded a haphazard acknowledgment to his professor. 
“Hey,” you greeted, only needing to speak above a whisper in the quiet area. Viewing him on stage was fine - it felt impersonal, but up close it felt like looking into the sun. “You look so handsome.”
His cheeks turned red under the tan skin as he rubbed at the back of his neck, embarrassed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said through a weak laugh, and a moment later said, “The costumes were incredible.”
“Not bad for someone who didn’t know how to sew a month ago, right?” you teased. You stared into his eyes for a long moment before crossing the room and taking his hand. “Are you ready to go?” you asked, then teasingly added, “Provided my car is still intact.”
He chuckled at you before taking a long breath. “Yeah, let’s go home.” 
The car ride home was tense, but not uncomfortable. You could sense the electricity running through him as you chatted about the production - the pride radiating from him was palpable. 
When you pulled into the apartment parking lot, it had just begun snowing, and neither of you made any moves to exit the car once it was turned off. 
After a long moment of silence, you spoke again. “We have a lot to talk about.”
He gave you a nervous look, one eyebrow quirked. “We do?”
You breathed a laugh, half-turning towards him in your seat. After a moment of collecting your thoughts, you said, “I want you to lay it all out for me. I know we haven’t been talking about it because it’s scary but I need to know exactly how you feel about me.”
He stared into your eyes for a long time, seemingly trying to predict whether this was a good idea or not. Just for assurance, you laid your hand on top of his where it rested on his knee - his fidgeting fingers pausing under your touch. 
“You know, I think I felt it for you the moment I first met you,” he admitted, casting his eyes anywhere but on yours. “I was nervous up until semi-recently that I just felt that way because I was lonely, you know? When my ex and I parted ways last spring and my roommate dropped out and moved away, I felt like I lost everyone all at once.
“I stopped going to parties and seeing my friends until I had none left. And I didn’t want to see my family - I think I had become accustomed to being alone, but you moved in and you were so kind. I’m not sure exactly when it happened - probably kind of a little bit at a time - with every interaction, you know? But I feel it for you. For real.”
He met your eyes again with a surprised frown. You watched his other hand come up, his thumb swiping under your eye, leaving a cool spot behind. “I’m sorry, don’t cry.”
You laughed weakly. “I didn’t know I was. I’m going to ruin all the makeup Kate spent an hour working on.” Before he could speak again, you took the moment. You leaned in and tugged him closer to you by the lapels of his suit jacket, pressing your lips to his. He melted into it for only a moment before pulling away with a sad smile. 
“I don’t want you to do this just because you feel bad for me,” he explained, voice uncharacteristically flat. 
You gave him a frown, taking his chin between your fingers and forcing him to look at you. “I’m not,” you promised, but he looked unconvinced. So you tried again.
“Josh, I’m so sorry about the way I’ve treated you. I fucked up. You have got to be the absolute sweetest person I’ve ever met - definitely the sweetest man - and it was fucked of me to sleep with you and then make you feel like you were wrong for wanting affection.”
He gave you a questioning look.
“It’s never going to happen again. Because - if you’ll have me - I want to give you all the affection you can handle. No weed-induced hook up’s this time.”
He was silent for a long moment, and you huffed a laugh as you visualized his brain working. 
“Oh,” he breathed as a smile started to tilt his lips up at the corners. “Well. That’s not how I expected this to go. Are we gonna fuck here - in the car?”
An abrupt laugh ripped through your chest. “I would prefer if we didn’t, this is cloth upholstery. But we could go inside?”
He nodded at you, and opening the door and stepping out, he came around to your side and gave you his hand to make sure you didn’t fall in the new snowfall. 
Inside, he toed off his dress shoes, and you bent to undo the buckles on your boots, your fingers shaking slightly in anticipation. The second you were stood again, he had you pressed back against the door with just enough force to knock the breath from your lungs. 
When he leaned in and connected your mouths, you wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers lacing into his hair. 
He kissed a trail down your jaw and to the base of your throat, the feeling of teeth dragging across your skin giving you goosebumps. He hummed into your neck as his hands snaked around your body, his fingers tugging up the hem of your dress.
You slipped your coat off with his help once he realized what you were trying to do. As soon as it fell to the floor, you were walking him back blindly through the apartment, neither of you caring when you bumped into this or that. He turned you around when you reached his bedroom, laying you out over the covers. 
You watched as he unbuttoned his suit jacket, then the cuffs of his dress shirt. 
“You look so beautiful tonight,” he mumbled, making you blush lightly as he gestured to your form. “Did you do this for me?”
Through a smile, you replied, “Of course.”
“I don’t deserve you,” he stated confidently as he worked to open his button-down shirt. You decided that you weren’t going to let him do that alone, so you sat up, replacing his fingers with yours. 
You huffed. “Don’t say that.” The second the fabric was undone, you pressed your lips to his warm stomach, feeling the skin twitch under the touch. “You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met - candy sweet.” It was his turn to flush pink across his face, but you weren’t done yet. “I find myself thinking about you constantly.” You nipped into the trail of hair below his navel as you tugged his shirt from his dress pants. He hummed low at the slight pain. “I actually got some condoms in case you wanted to use them. Probably not all of them tonight - it’s a big pack, but you know. Over the next couple of weeks.” Your tone was teasing, forcing a breathy laugh from him. 
“Where are they?” he asked, voice a little gravelly. 
“My bedside stand.” 
As he exited the room to retrieve them, you pushed yourself up onto the bed until your head hit his pillows. You could hear him rummaging in the next room until the noise stalled for a beat as you worked off your leggings. You listened to him pad back across the hall, wearing just a smile and his dress pants when he returned. 
He crawled up the bed over you, pressing his face into your cheek as his hand lifted the hem of your dress. 
“What’s this?” he asked into your ear, pressing something cold against your thigh. You knew what it was instantly, making you suck in a surprised breath. 
You laughed, but even to your ears, it sounded nervous. He held it up so you could see.
“That would be a vibrator.”
It wasn’t anything special - just a slim, blue plastic piece, but it was the only one you’d ever had, and it had been a very good friend to you. He hovered his lips over yours as he ran the toy up your leg until the tip of it brushed your panties. 
“Is this okay?” he asked, but he sounded smug like he already knew the answer. You squirmed in anticipation and nodded. 
When he brushed it across your mound, you jolted, your fingers pressing tightly into his shoulder. He applied a little pressure to it, pressing it into the folds over the fabric. The feeling made you whine in the back of your throat.
He sat up, slipping his legs under yours, pulling your ass into his lap. Your face felt hot, so you covered your eyes with your fingers, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth. This was a lot different than hooking up with him while high. 
He played the toy over your panties until you were wet enough to have left a damp spot in the fabric. Then he hooked his fingers under them and tugged them down enough to give him full access, though the position restricted him from removing them completely. 
When the plastic pressed against your bare skin, you had to suppress a moan. You couldn’t see, so you didn’t expect it when the toy flicked to life against you, and he ran it across you lightly, just teasing. 
You stared up at the ceiling through your fingers, your mouth agape as he brushed it over your clit in circles, making your hips buck into the touch.
“Fuck,” you breathed, taking one of your hands from your eyes and running your fingers through your hair. If you tugged on the locks lightly, no one had to know but you. 
A little rougher, he deliberately pressed just the tip of it into your clit, forcing a shocked whine from the back of your throat. You made the mistake of sitting up on your elbows to watch, but instead, all you could look at was the form of his hard cock straining against his tight pants. 
You couldn’t have stopped yourself if you tried - you reached out and ran your fingers down the length of it. It twitched under your touch, but he didn’t stop what he was doing. You made a mental note to congratulate him on his dedication. Instead, he grabbed your wrist with a firm grip and laid you back down, all without taking his eyes off of his task. 
You could feel it starting to build in you as you rocked your hips into the feeling of the toy against your most sensitive part. You were positive that you looked absolutely pathetic, but when you met his eyes, he looked so entranced that it made you blush deeper - if that was even possible. 
Your fingers were flexing into his sheets as you came, a high whine ripping through your chest. When he pulled the toy away, a thread of your come was still connected to it, shimmering in the dim light of his lamp. He brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss against it, leaving his lips shiny. 
It took you a moment to collect yourself - your breathing was ragged and not at all appealing, if you had to guess. 
He gently placed your vibrator on his side table, and you watched as his fingers worked open the button on his pants, and then the zipper. When he pulled down the elastic band of his underwear, his cock popped out - rock hard. He pushed all the fabric down to his thighs and then tugged you further into his lap until your parts were flush together. 
“Did you want the condom?” you asked with a fucked-out smile. 
“Fuck it,” he replied with a grin as he rubbed his cock through your slit, making your over-sensitive skin pulse.  
You breathed a little “ah” sound as your whole lower half felt like it was hooked up to a live wire. “Are you telling me that you went all the way over there and forgot the condom?”
“First of all,” he started with a sinister laugh. “It’s just across the hall. Second of all, that’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
You had opened your mouth to respond but before you could, he pushed into you, his thumb holding his cock into place. 
“Fuck,” you rasped, throwing your head back into the pillow. You could feel how wet you were just by his movements. Your hands reached out until you could dig your fingernails into his forearms, his hands tight on your hips as he bottomed out in you. 
You looked up just in time to catch his tongue swipe out over his lips, his eyes half-lidded. 
He started rocking in and out of you like a tide drawn to the beach, sending little shockwaves through your core and up into your tight stomach.
To give your fingers something to do, they worked at the buttons on your dress. They only went down to the bottom of your ribcage, but it was far enough to expose your chest. He didn’t waste even a second before he moved one of his hands to your tit, squeezing it until it spilled out through his fingers. 
You were focused on that until he brushed something inside of you that made your jaw drop open. You went to moan but no sound would come out, so you sat up on your hands and pushed back against him, forcing him in deeper. His teeth were clenched as his hands found your hips again, holding you in the position you needed to be in to work yourself on him. He hummed, eyes fluttering as he met you halfway, thumbs pushed into the thin skin across your hip bones. You briefly wondered if he’d leave you little oval-shaped bruises.
He was staring into your eyes as best he could while his eyelids fluttered, so you knew when he was getting close to the edge. He pulled you up to him so you were riding his lap, his forehead against yours, the new angle putting his cock perfectly against your sweet spot as the length of him slid into you. 
You kissed him deeply as you worked yourself onto him, his breath hitching and his fingers lacing into your hair as he came. You were shockingly close behind, so when he drove you down on him harder to ride out his orgasm, you lost it too. 
You gasped into his mouth as it washed over you, leaving your senses as if you were swallowed by a wave. 
Neither of you moved for a few moments until you pulled back just far enough to look into his eyes. 
“You’re going to have come on your dress pants,” you whispered teasingly. He smirked back at you as he laid you out onto the bed. 
“Yeah, I’ll have to wash them before tomorrow night’s show,” he agreed, and the idea made your cheeks go pink. 
You were both silent as you cleaned up, and when you returned to him from the bathroom, he was already tucked under the covers in his bed. He smiled at you and held the comforter up for you as you crawled in next to him. You knew you were going to fall asleep almost instantly once you got completely situated, so it was lucky that he spoke before that happened. 
“I want you to come home with me for Christmas,” he stated, voice just above a whisper. 
You blinked over at him, a little stunned. 
“I don’t want you to be here alone - you deserve to be with a loving family,” he explained further when he saw the look on your face. 
You gave him a smile, feeling oddly sentimental post-orgasm. You could feel tears pricking at your eyes, so you buried your face in his neck. 
“I’d like that.”
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lokiondisneyplus · 3 years
Text
Sophia Di Martino was launched into the pop cultural consciousness thanks to her role as Sylvie – AKA the Loki variant on Marvel Disney Plus series Loki, where she trades barbs and shares background stories with Tom Hiddleston's God of Mischief.
Episode Three of the series found Loki on a wild adventure with Sylvie, after he accidentally sent them both to the doomed moon Lamentis-1, on a collision course with a planet. Facing an apocalypse, the pair hatches a plan to find the escape vessel that some of the moon's wealthier residents are hoping will carry them to safety and, while on the train to the ship, they discuss everything from the nature of love to their respective magical abilities.
When the opportunity arose to talk to her, we naturally jumped at it, so here is part of Chris Hewitt's conversation with Di Martino, who was frank and funny while chatting about getting the job, Loki's sexuality and more.
The last two weeks in particular must have been a heck of a whirlwind for you. What's it been like being at the centre of the storm?
It's been a strange one. Because I feel like I've been waiting in the wings for quite a while. And I haven't been able to talk to anyone about this until today. So, it's been a really strange few weeks, just watching the show start and listening to people's reactions, but not being able to talk about it. I don't feel like I've been in the centre of the storm at all. I feel like I've been watching it play out.
Have you been able to say anything to anybody, family friends... Postmen?
Absolutely no-one! My mum has no idea where I've been for the past two years. It's been really difficult. But to be honest, I'm actually really good at keeping secrets. So, I've perhaps been too good and haven't told anyone, anything. My agent, no one knows anything! I’m taking it really seriously, maybe a bit too seriously!
You and director Kate Herron have worked together in the past. Is that how it began for you?
Kate and I worked together on a short film of hers a few years ago now. And we stayed in touch, we're mates, we'll go out for coffee and do a bit of improv. We exist in the same circles in London. I'm trying to remember how exactly it happened. I was shooting another film in the UK, and I think I got a message from Kate saying, “I'm on this show, I'm not allowed to talk about what it is... There's a role, we'd like to see what you do with it. I can't tell you any more. Just wanted to give you the heads up...” A really vague WhatsApp message. So, then I got a request for a tape through my agent. But obviously, my agency also couldn't know anything about what was happening and what it was or anything. I was given a really short scene, made a tape of this scene and just had to guess what it was about. I think it was actually what ended up being the scene from Episode Three, which is Loki and Sylvie on the train. I think it ended up being that scene, but it was very different when I did the audition tape for it.
Did it have the word Loki in the script at any point?
No, no, no names! I think it was Bob and Sarah or something completely different. I didn't have a clue what it was.
I was really interested in how angry she is and how sort of laser-focused she is on this mission that she's given herself.
At what point did the penny drop? At what point did you realise that you were auditioning to play a Loki on Loki, and then this incredibly complex character?
I can't remember what happened first. It might have been the news that Kate was directing the new Loki came out. And then I was like, “Oh, maybe that's what I read for...” Or if it was that I was just offered the job, and they told me what it was. But yeah, it was a surprise. And I had a chat with Tom on FaceTime because he was in New York. I never actually met anyone because I was nine months pregnant, I couldn't fly anywhere. So, I was in London, everyone else is in the US. So, it was just that tape, it was all based on that. And obviously, I've worked with Kate before, so she knows that I'm not some weirdo. And she must’ve convinced them to cast me!
Let’s talk a little bit about Sylvie as we now know her. What's clear is that you're not doing a Tom Hiddleston impression. This is not your take on a Tom Hiddleston Loki, this is a very, very different iteration of their character. So where did you start?
Well, probably exactly there, making that decision that I didn't want to go in and do an impression of Tom, because that would have been awful. I'm really bad at impressions for a start! Sylvie’s very different to Loki in a lot of ways. There's the chaos and there's the mischievous, which are very, very Loki traits. But for me, I was really interested in how angry she is and how sort of laser-focused she is on this mission that she's given herself. And I think that plus the playfulness really helped me get into the character. And, and so that was the way I started.
The stunt training and the fight training really helped me with her physicality, and we were all really keen on her being a really strong, sort of street fighter, almost. She's not as elegant as Loki. She's fit and rough around the edges, she's had a harder time, in a way, she's been on the run for the majority of her life, getting into scraps. And I like the idea that she really enjoys fighting. And she'd really get something out of it. Because she knows that she's probably going to win. Right? And that's where her cockiness comes through, maybe. And so that was part of it as well. And then as soon as you put the costume on, you're there.
What was that like? Because the costume says so much as well. There's the headpiece, which obviously has a missing horn, which says a lot about the scrapes that she's gotten into in the past. And also says that this isn't the Loki we might be expecting.
We were really keen on making the costume look like it's been through the wringer a bit. And she's sort of gathered bits of it from places that she's been throughout her journey. We didn't want it to be too clean and shiny. And it was also important to me that it was a really comfortable costume and that I could actually fight in it, and I could kick in it and just do things that I needed to kick not have to worry about breaking it or being uncomfortable. And then Christine Wada, the costume designer, was amazing at just making it super comfy. But I still felt like a badass when I put it on.
The train scene has that wonderful moment where you’re talking about your romantic pasts, and Loki confirms that he is bisexual, which has been received rapturously since the episode came out. Did you get a sense of how momentous it was when you were filming it?
I knew how important it was, yeah. And I'm just so pleased that it's been received so well. And people are super happy to have seem that scene. And like I said, the show is inspired by the comics, and the comics for a long time have alluded to Loki being bisexual or pansexual. And his sexuality is not straight. And even back to Norse mythology. So, it was important to Kate, and it was also important to me and Tom, that this was represented in a six-hour story about that character. Because representation is important.
It's such a beautifully written scene. Can you just talk about your memories of filming those exchanges? Because we've only just met Sylvie, and we haven’t seen Loki consider the idea of love or falling in love or being frail or vulnerable in that way before.
It’s a super important scene. And it was interesting to shoot it because it's the first time that you see Sylvie vulnerable. And it's just a really important moment for the two of them to understand each other in a different way, and not just be miffed by each other for the first time. And when we were filming it, it is quite a long scene. And it just felt really good to do a long, talky scene. It didn't feel long when we were doing it. But it was nice to get into those characters, and it sort of felt like doing a play, when you go a bit deeper and it’s great. It's just another way of understanding the character that you're playing. And listening to Tom singing was also an experience! Didn’t he do such a good job of learning all those words? I was just amazed that he could learn a song in a different language. And he did it so quickly! Like, one day he got the words and the next day he was fluent in Norwegian! That’s Hiddleston, isn’t it? He’s just so smart!
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sasarahsunshine · 3 years
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what are your horn knee-est headcanons about emily prentiss?
Oooh hmm, I don't actually think too much about the females of the BAU, so I had to put my thinking cap on for this one!
Obvs Emily is a lesbian. She radiates wlw energy <3
She's def fantasized about sleeping with every other fem team member at least once (a certain Penelope at least a billion times)
She and Tara had a one-night stand once Tara dropped her fiance (husband? I don't remember if they were married yet or not).
Emily is very adventurous in the bedroom.
She'll try anything once. Or twice. Just to make sure she likes it <3
(more under the cut. NO MINORS ALLOWED NSFW)
Emily has a "treasure chest" of toys. (It's not that big of a chest, but that's what she calls it).
She also has a special drawer in her dresser that's meant for only lingerie/silks/ropes.
She's mostly a dom, but she can be a sub with the right people. She needs to trust them completely in order to give her submission, however. I would say Tara is the only person she's done this with.
Her favorite thing to do is tie up her subs in pretty ribbons and bows <3 Have them wear delicate lacey stockings and lingerie as she ties their hands together and spreads their legs. Because it's so much more fun to ruin them when they look so angelic first <3
For the sake of this, I wanna say she eventually ends up with Penny, who is a subby bottom
She LOVES how soft and curvy Penny is. She spoils her with new fancy silk and lacey things to try on, and always insists on taking photos to save for later (with Penny's permission of course!)
Consent is Key!
She has quite a collection of toys/strap-ons/vibrators. And she's used every single one on Penny <3
She doesn't really do orgasm denial, per se, but she does encourage her partner to try and hold back as long as they can so the fun doesn't end too soon. Of course, women can orgasm multiple times, so the fun doesn't really end too soon anyways.
She's a soft dom! Always purring praise and pet names into her partner's ear, caressing them, speaking softly, and planting kisses. She doesn't like degradation because she worries that her partner might accidentally internalize it (speaking from experience, Emily?)
She has slept with men, though again, she's a lesbian so it didn't really do anything for her. If her partner wanted to have a threesome with a man tho, she wouldn't turn down the idea
Emily's biggest fantasy would be to be in complete control of someone (Penny, Tara, JJ, Kate, doesn't matter who). She controls what they wear, she ties them up in shibari (rope art), puts them in gorgeous poses, drips colorful wax along their skin (all the while praising and planting kisses along their exposed necks/jaws), and once she has them in the mindset she wants them, completely pliant and willing to do whatever she wants-- she eats them out while they can't move <3 Because they're tied up, probably literally hanging from the ceiling, and they have to take whatever she gives them. Which is multiple orgasms from clitoral stimulation alone <3
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Text
Secrets ~ 5
Warnings: noncon sexual acts later in series.
This is dark!Bucky and dark!Steve and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Notes:
So, I managed to come back to this one. So sorry for taking so long! My mind wanders easily but I really do enjoy this series!! I'm hoping to get a few more chapters done in the next week or two if I can. As it is, my time is a bit up in the air with a looming lockdown.
That being said, I love you all, I thank you for your patience and feedback as always! Please don't shy away in the comments and I promise to keep doing what I can for all my ongoing series.
As for tumblr, I’m just kinda in and out. I’m not here here in a way as I’m trying just to stay sane.
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You sat across from Barnes. Rigid, as you kept in mind not to slouch. Tense, as you brooded over your hopeless situation. Silent, as you inhaled the scent of the savoury meal but found yourself curtailed at every attempt to eat. His eyes followed every move and you were met with either a tskk or a remonstrance; ‘not that fork’, ‘small bites, smaller sips’, ‘smile’, ‘keep your lips closed’, ‘elbows off the table’...
You sighed as your last attempt to sate your growling stomach ended in another reproach. His words, his even voice almost taunting, stoked your anger and made it difficult for you to follow his direction. You sat back and peered up and down the long table, the chairs empty and table cloth crisp and white.
“How much longer do I have to do this?” You bemoaned. “I’m hungry. Let me eat.”
“Duchess, you will be expected to act as a lady for the rest of your life.” His mouth twitched at one corner as if he would grin. “Do not be unhappy with me, it was not I who neglected your education.”
Your nostrils flared and you looked at the longest knife among the row. He chuckled and you squinted over at him. You sighed.
“Do not be a child, Duchess. When you are queen, you will be the beacon for all other women at court. And if you cannot set a good example, they will make sure you know it.” He pushed his shoulders back. 
“I don’t care about those women. I don’t know them.” You sniffed. “This isn’t my home.”
“It is.” He said plainly. “As close to as you’ll have given that yours would be entirely lost to you.”
You stared at him. You tilted your head and frowned. “You don’t realise how absurd this is? Do you really think I could ever want to be here?”
“If you don’t even give it a chance, then no.” He shrugged, “But you haven’t. You were in school, you liked it?”
You ran your tongue along your teeth and nodded.
“We have tutors; the finest money can find. If you are agreeable, your husband might be too.” He ran his thumb along the line of his palm. “You like museums, well we have one of the grandest in the world. You must know of it given your interests.”
You looked away. It wasn’t the same. What would you do with an education if you were trapped in a royal marriage? How could you enjoy a museum if you just went to look? Your former life felt so far away, yet that before you, felt even further. You weren’t a queen; you didn’t want to be a queen.
“So what? I’ll beg for scraps from my husband? 'Oh, please, I would love to visit the library today, my king. May I? May I really?'” You spat as you clutched your hand together dramatically.
“The King can be amenable but if you approach him with the same attitude as you have me, this marriage will be exactly what you expect it to be. Perhaps you might consider how you could make it at least tolerable?”
You shook your head and rolled your eyes. “You want me to change everything about myself; how I walk, how I sit, how I dress, how I eat. That is not tolerable.”
His lips parted and he tore his eyes away from you as he thought. “Well, to be frank, the king won’t care what you tolerate and he does not tolerate much. So whether you wish it or not, you will at least pretend to change.”
“Mmm, sure.” You huffed.
“I am offering you advice and it is good advice. The king… He will not be as patient as me. If you embarrass him in front of his court, in front of the world, you won’t ever forget it. He’ll make sure of it.”
“You know, the more you tell me about him, the better he sounds,” you said dryly, “A hell of a catch.”
Bucky exhaled slowly and a deep line formed in his cheek. “Go on. Take the salad fork-- no, wrong one.”
You bared your teeth as you blinked at the line of forks. “I’m not very hungry anymore.” You grumbled.
“Hungry or not, you need to learn how to hold a fork, Duchess,” he rebuked, “Sit up straight.”
👑
When you were finally allowed to retire from your first day at Regia, you were exhausted. Your chambers were welcoming as you left your personal tormentor, Barnes, without and trudged over to the bed. As you dropped onto the bouncy mattress, you looked around and your irritation piqued again.
Your suitcase was gone. Only your toiletries remained in their beige leather pouch and a stack of books. You frowned and stood reluctantly. Your neck and shoulders ached from the tension nestled there from a long day of Barnes’ tutelage and his nuisance.
You grabbed the first book, the title wrought in gold on the fading spine; ‘Queens of Astrania’. You fluttered through the pungent pages and took the next; ‘A Lady’s Place’. You set that one aside and scowled as you went down the stack; ‘Manners and Etiquette’, ‘The Provinces of Astrania; Lands and Rights’, ‘Astrania the Bold; A Kingdom Without End’, ‘Queen Loren: The Royal Mother’....
You left them in the pile and covered your face with your hands as you resisted the urge to scream. You turned away and went to the dresser. You slid open the drawer but it wasn’t your clothing inside. Instead of your plain cotton tee and jogging pants, you found satin and silk night clothes in every cut. You opened the drawer beside it and found bras and panties you’d never have wasted a penny on.
You slammed the drawer shut and went to the closet with the thick wooden doors etched with curlicues. Inside, blouses, skirts, and pants hung, pressed and pretty. The wardrobe of a lady. You could see Princess Kate in your head wearing any piece of it and yet, each garment looked sharper, more modern than the British fashion.
You shut the doors and crossed your arms. Three weeks. Well, one day down. That was all you had left. You thought of the women who had come before you; the medieval maidens, the romantic ladies in their puffed sleeves, the Victorian stiff neck marms. Had they wanted it? Or had they been trapped like you? Did they feel the same hopeless despair?
You went to the window and looked out at the green lawns painted in silver moonlight. Clouds framed the shining crescent, the sky streaked in greys and blacks that sent a shiver through you. The gates stood closed and ominous at the end of the winding drive and trees stood sentinel around the palace.
Once, you’d dreamed of visiting a royal home. Your love of history held you reverent in awe of the remarkable architecture, the years marked by renovations and the contrast of styles often found between one room and the next. Visions of spectres stirred your imagination and you thought of the dead haunting the corridors as they retraced the footsteps of their existence.
No, it all just felt horribly empty. These places were prisons. History didn’t need to be kept alive, only remembered as an omen for those living. Let it go but do not forget. 
You drew away from the window and slumped in the upholstered chair not far from it. Barnes had your phone, you didn’t expect to get it back. It wouldn’t be of much use. As much as you missed your mom, you had nothing left to say to her and hearing her voice would only make you feel worse. She would only remind you of what she’d done; of the secrets she’d kept from you.
It was only you and the whispers of the dead. They carried on the breeze outside the window as if to warn you. ‘You are one of us…’
👑
The second day went much the same. Barnes woke you early, his gaze tinged with judgement as he chose your outfit for the day and bid you to pay attention. You ate, slowly and with the same endless critique, and he took you to the palace library and sat you down with a large volume. He paced as you read and occasionally listed off all that you had yet to learn. In all your years of school, you’d never had a teacher as overbearing and relentless as him.
When you were thoroughly restless from the tight font and stiff pages, he took you for a walk around the lawns and pointed out the statues of your predecessors. When you returned to the palace, he gave you another lesson in posture, a book on your head as he had you strut across the foyer over and over again. When you were dizzy from the repetition, it was time for another meal and you growled at your cutlery in frustration.
The days went on as such. You snapped at Barnes when he breathed down your neck but he never again bent you over and spanked you like a child. Instead, he merely grinned and thought of another ridiculous activity. But when he caught you with a sandwich secreted from the house staff and your hand streaked in mustard, he looked close to another lashing. He only took the last of your crust and scrubbed your fingers himself.
On the fifth morning. You woke with difficulty. You were exhausted and angry and about to give up. Barnes tore away your duvet and tossed a dress at you. He stood before the rack of dresses you’d gone through on your first day. You groaned and snatched up the petal pink swathe and rolled out of bed.
You dressed as he waited in the hall and you stumbled out in the pair of steep heels. You held in a yawn as he bent his arm and you merely stared at it in detest.
“Duchess,” he sighed, “Let’s not do this today. We have a packed schedule.”
“What is it? Am I to balance on one foot and recite the royal family tree?” You spat.
He snorted and shook his head. He took your arm and hooked it through his own. He turned and led you down the hall. “Well, no, but I fear you might look just as silly.”
You narrowed your eyes and your stomach knotted. You wondered at his meaning but went along with him. Your days at Regia still felt like a dream; you just couldn’t accept that any of it was real.
He led you down the stairs, with some trouble, as your ankle bent and you caught the railing in panic. He righted you and continued lithely down the staircase. Your heels clicked on the marble as he turned you and guided you to the tall doors that opened into a grand ballroom. Long tables lined the perimeter with straight back chairs and portraits of women long dead and their respective husbands hung from the walls. The high ceiling was pointed and arched in the style of the seventeenth century and velvet curtains were tied back with tassles at the other end of the chamber.
A woman in black, a stiff white collar poking out from beneath her blazer, and a prim twist to her lips, stood expectantly at the centre. She held a stick that reminded you of a 1900s schoolhouse teacher and her round framed glasses magnified her cold glare.
“Priscilla,” Barnes released you and approached the woman. He greeted her in all courtesy, a small nod and a kiss on her hand. “Timely, as always.”
“Lord Barnes,” she arched a brow and her hazel eyes peered past him at you. “Duchess?” It was barely a question as she bent her knee and gave a stoic bow.
“The very one,” Barnes affirmed.
“An honour,” she stepped past Barnes. “I was present when your mother and her father visited our kingdom all those years ago.”
Your lip curled and you looked between her and Barnes. “I never knew my grandfather. Apparently, I never knew my mother either.”
Her eyes rounded and her face contorted as if she had tasted lemon juice. She looked at Barnes who shook his head.
“You know the nobility well, Pris,” he said, “They have the temperance of toddlers.”
“Wouldn’t you know it, my lord,” she quipped. “A blessing to her it is not Austin in my place.”
“I made certain it wasn’t,” Barnes approached you and took your hand, “I do appreciate your expedience.”
“I would never disobey the king,” she held the stick horizontal in both hands, “Very well, first position.”
Barnes turned you and drew you to him. His other hand went to your back. He held you to him, a small space between your bodies and you wobbled on your high heels.
“What the--” His sharp look kept your form profanity.
“You must learn to dance,” he said, “And if you can barely stand straight, I trust we have much to do.”
Priscilla came around you and touched your shoulders with her stick. “Head up,” she chided, “Straight, straight, straight.” She tapped the tip along your spine. “You are lucky.” She girded, “To learn with such a partner. Barnes… I hope that even you might sharpen this one.” She tutted, “There is much work to be done.”
“Would you stop that?” You tore your hand from Barnes’ and wipped at the stick against your back, “I’m not a dog.”
“Mmm,” she hummed and smacked your ass with the stick as Barnes took your hand again, “Move your feet.”
She rescinded the stick and tapped the butt of it on the floor as she began to count. You trod on your partner’s toe as he led you. You looked down at your feet and he hissed, “Don’t look down.”
“Well, what am I supposed to do?” You stomped his shoe again. “Or do you like broken toes?”
“Just back, forward, side, side, back…” He raised your hand. “Stand straight. Head high.”
“I hate you,” you snipped as you scrambled to keep the beat.
“A good thing you are not my fiancee, then,” he smirked.
“We can agree on that,” you sneered but found yourself pressed against him as you tripped. He caught you and chuckled as he stood you up straight.
“Graceful as ever,” he kidded, “My apologies, Priscilla, it is going to be a long day.”
“You’re apologizing to her?” You grimaced, “What about me?”
“You’ve tread on me nearly a dozen times, so far,” he turned you, “I would say you owe me a few ‘sorries’ yourself.”
“I’d say we’re even,” you snipped. “My freedom, your toes.”
His lips curved again as he watched you. You looked past him and focused on the numbers; one, two, three, and four… Your gaze caught on a queen with sad eyes painted in fading pigments. She had no husband beside her, only an urn on a plinth. A chill rippled through you as you were spun away from the sight. For all its radiance, there was something very grim about this palace of betrothed.
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twh-news · 3 years
Text
Loki: Sophia Di Martino Talks About Songs, Sexuality, Scoring The Role Of Sylvie And More
Sophia Di Martino was launched into the pop cultural consciousness thanks to her role as Sylvie – AKA the Loki variant on Marvel Disney Plus series Loki, where she trades barbs and shares background stories with Tom Hiddleston's God of Mischief.
Episode Three of the series found Loki on a wild adventure with Sylvie, after he accidentally sent them both to the doomed moon Lamentis-1, on a collision course with a planet. Facing an apocalypse, the pair hatches a plan to find the escape vessel that some of the moon's wealthier residents are hoping will carry them to safety and, while on the train to the ship, they discuss everything from the nature of love to their respective magical abilities.
When the opportunity arose to talk to her, we naturally jumped at it, so here is part of Chris Hewitt's conversation with Di Martino, who was frank and funny while chatting about getting the job, Loki's sexuality and more.
The last two weeks in particular must have been a heck of a whirlwind for you. What's it been like being at the centre of the storm?
It's been a strange one. Because I feel like I've been waiting in the wings for quite a while. And I haven't been able to talk to anyone about this until today. So, it's been a really strange few weeks, just watching the show start and listening to people's reactions, but not being able to talk about it. I don't feel like I've been in the centre of the storm at all. I feel like I've been watching it play out.
Have you been able to say anything to anybody, family friends... Postmen?
Absolutely no-one! My mum has no idea where I've been for the past two years. It's been really difficult. But to be honest, I'm actually really good at keeping secrets. So, I've perhaps been too good and haven't told anyone, anything. My agent, no one knows anything! I’m taking it really seriously, maybe a bit too seriously!
You and director Kate Herron have worked together in the past. Is that how it began for you?
Kate and I worked together on a short film of hers a few years ago now. And we stayed in touch, we're mates, we'll go out for coffee and do a bit of improv. We exist in the same circles in London. I'm trying to remember how exactly it happened. I was shooting another film in the UK, and I think I got a message from Kate saying, “I'm on this show, I'm not allowed to talk about what it is... There's a role, we'd like to see what you do with it. I can't tell you anymore. Just wanted to give you the heads up...” A really vague WhatsApp message. So, then I got a request for a tape through my agent. But obviously, my agency also couldn't know anything about what was happening and what it was or anything. I was given a really short scene, made a tape of this scene and just had to guess what it was about. I think it was actually what ended up being the scene from Episode Three, which is Loki and Sylvie on the train. I think it ended up being that scene, but it was very different when I did the audition tape for it.
Did it have the word Loki in the script at any point?
No, no, no names! I think it was Bob and Sarah or something completely different. I didn't have a clue what it was.
"I was really interested in how angry she is and how sort of laser-focused she is on this mission that she's given herself."
At what point did the penny drop? At what point did you realise that you were auditioning to play a Loki on Loki, and then this incredibly complex character?
I can't remember what happened first. It might have been the news that Kate was directing the new Loki came out. And then I was like, “Oh, maybe that's what I read for...” Or if it was that I was just offered the job, and they told me what it was. But yeah, it was a surprise. And I had a chat with Tom on FaceTime because he was in New York. I never actually met anyone because I was nine months pregnant, I couldn't fly anywhere. So, I was in London, everyone else is in the US. So, it was just that tape, it was all based on that. And obviously, I've worked with Kate before, so she knows that I'm not some weirdo. And she must’ve convinced them to cast me!
Let’s talk a little bit about Sylvie as we now know her. What's clear to me is that you're not doing a Tom Hiddleston impression. This is not your take on a Tom Hiddleston Loki, this is a very, very different iteration of their character. So where did you start?
Well, probably exactly there, making that decision that I didn't want to go in and do an impression of Tom, because that would have been awful. I'm really bad at impressions for a start! Sylvie’s very different to Loki in a lot of ways. There's the chaos and there's the mischievous, which are very, very Loki traits. But for me, I was really interested in how angry she is and how sort of laser-focused she is on this mission that she's given herself. And I think that plus the playfulness really helped me get into the character. And, and so that was the way I started.
The stunt training and the fight training really helped me with her physicality, and we were all really keen on her being a really strong, sort of street fighter, almost. She's not as elegant as Loki. She's fit and rough around the edges, she's had a harder time, in a way, she's been on the run for the majority of her life, getting into scraps. And I like the idea that she really enjoys fighting. And she'd really get something out of it. Because she knows that she's probably going to win. Right? And that's where her cockiness comes through, maybe. And so that was part of it as well. And then as soon as you put the costume on, you're there.
What was that like? Because the costume says so much as well. There's the headpiece, which obviously has a missing horn, which says a lot about the scrapes, that she's gotten into in the past. And also says that this isn't the Loki we might be expecting.
We were really keen on making the costume look like it's been through the wringer a bit. And she's sort of gathered bits of it from places that she's been throughout her journey. We didn't want it to be too clean and shiny. And it was also important to me that it was a really comfortable costume and that I could actually fight in it, and I could kick in it and just do things that I needed to kick not have to worry about breaking it or being uncomfortable. And then Christine Wada, the costume designer, was amazing at just making it super comfy. But I still felt like a badass when I put it on.
The train scene that wonderful moment were you’re talking about your romantic pasts, and Loki confirms that he is bisexual, which has been received rapturously since the episode came out. And it's such a huge moment and I know it was important to Kate, as well. What can you say about that? First of all, about filming that moment? Did you get a sense of its momentousness when you were filming it?
I knew how important it was, yeah. And I'm just so pleased that it's been received so well. And people are super happy to have seem that scene. And like I said, the show is inspired by the comics, and the comics for a long time have alluded to Loki being bisexual or pansexual. And his sexuality is not straight. And even back to Norse mythology. So, it was important to Kate, and it was also important to me and Tom, that this was represented in a six-hour story about that character. Because representation is important.
And it's such a beautifully written scene as well. Can you just talk about your memories of filming those exchanges? Not just seeing Tom singing in what I presume is Norwegian, and what that was like for you? But also, just that exchange about love and how important it is for these two characters. Because we've only just met Sylvie, of course. And we haven’t seen Loki consider the idea of love or falling in love or being frail or vulnerable in that way before. So, it seemed like a fairly important exchange...
It’s a super important scene. And it was interesting to shoot it because it's the first time that you see Sylvie vulnerable. And it's just a really important moment for the two of them to understand each other in a different way, and not just be miffed by each other for the first time. And when we were filming it, it is quite a long scene. And it just felt really good to do a long, talky scene. It didn't feel long when we were doing it. But it was nice to get into those characters, and it sort of felt like doing a play, when you go a bit deeper and it’s great. It's just another way of understanding the character that you're playing. And listening to Tom singing was also an experience! Didn’t he do such a good job of learning all those words? I was just amazed that he could learn a song in a different language. And he did it so quickly! Like, one day he got the words and the next day he was fluent in Norwegian! That’s Hiddleston, isn’t it? He’s just so smart!
31 notes · View notes
adelaidedrubman · 3 years
Note
Can we see a snippet of Ladies Night?
of course you can kate!! ladies night is a prompt i have owed @honeysides for quite some time now, for the illustrious, endearing pairing that is helmi x jestiny. (“ladies night” may or may not refer to murder. girl stuff.)
“Penny for your thoughts?” 
A perfect jarring reminder of how incredibly not normal her thoughts had been as of late, in the form of Joey Hudson rolling her chair across the room to make small talk. 
Jessie only for a second considered lying entirely, but Joey’s eyes had already found their way to her screen, Helmi’s file still pulled up, and she barely resisted the urge to hurriedly close the window like a child caught doing something they shouldn’t  on the family computer. 
“Penny’s probably overpaying,” she muttered, trying to lean back in her chair casually. This is her job, she reminded herself, there’s nothing to feel guilty about. She shouldn’t feel like she’s done something wrong. 
“Her again?” the woman asked, nodding slightly towards the screen, and Jessie felt a slight burn flood her cheeks, even though there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. 
“I just —” she stopped, words catching in her throat. She flicked a tongue across her lip, chapped and torn, and swallowed hard. The faint taste of copper. “Shit’s clearly not right, and she’s at the center of it, I just…” She wanted to stop worrying about it, for her to be gone. A fucking night where she didn’t think about it. “I don’t see why the feds aren’t taking this up yet.” 
“Feds have been dropping the ball on a lot of things, lately,” Joey mused, a little too much heaviness in her voice. But at least the audible worry helped Jestiny feel like she wasn’t going crazy. “Doesn’t make it your job though, Rook. Your shift ended an hour and a half ago.” 
She looked at the clock. Fuck. It had. And since when had she been an overachiever at this job? 
9 notes · View notes
juuls · 4 years
Text
Juulna’s ‘Hold Onto Your Sanity’ Fic, Book, and Music Recs for the 2020 Dumpster Fire... Part 3!
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So you just crash-landed behind enemy lines in a war you know barely anything about except that your role seems infinitesimal and insignificant, and dumped into a year, 2020, that already seems fifteen years too long.
Before you drown your sorrows in some fantastic scotch or wine coolers for days (or weeks)… I have a proposal.
That you step back from the flames, tune things out for a bit, and try to forget about the outside world for a while (but don’t forget to vote or I will be very sad at you!).
These fics are meant to take you out of your head (I’m including more plot/story-minded fics than PWP) for the next few weeks or months as the world goes to hell (even more) but of course there are some bits of solid angst in these as there is wont to be in many a fic. Check the tags, read responsibly, don’t like-don’t read, ship and let ship, and please do leave a kudos and maybe even a comment! :)
This is PART THREE.
Check out here for Part One and most of the Marvel fic recs, along with a selection of book recs too. :)
And here’s Part Two, which has the bulk of my Star Wars and Game of Thrones recs, along with Spotify playlists!
Part Three is this one here, all about the Potterverse.
(Not yet complete) Here’s Part Four, filled with even more shippy goodness from all over the Star Trek universe. So. Many. Ships. :D
(Not yet complete) Part Five is Witcher, Man From UNCLE, Stargate: Atlantis and SG-1, Sherlock, Hannibal, and Doctor Who.
(Not yet complete) Part Six will probably be all for my newfound love of Supergirl, along with some Game of Thrones and Marvel ships I skipped, because I gotta stop somewhere with all these recommendations or I’ll be at it forever. Seriously, how much of this stuff have I read!?
But I think we all need some distractions from the world these days, eh? Or something to console us other than internet rage and a barrel of ice cream and/or hard alcohol.
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Potterverse
I’ve chosen to pick fics (mostly) off of AO3 for their easy reading access, though HP fics’ golden years were on sites like fanfiction.net and other independent archives like Sycophanthex and others which have closed their doors over the years, sadly. Some of these fics date back to almost 20 years old, or more, amazingly!
For fics on fanfiction.net, I highly recommend using this link (FicSave) to epub/mobi converter rather than dealing with the frustrating app. It functions like AO3′s built-in download button.
SSHG/Sevmione
Rec assistance by @perrydowning​
Second Life by Lariope
Phantom of Hogwarts by Good_Witch
Romancing the War by Pubella
The Poison Garden by turtle_wexler @turtlewexlerwrites
A Light in the Fog by turtle_wexler
Pride of Time by AnubisAnkh
The Savage by MagdatheMagpie
Snape’s Story by Tbird1965
Recognition by jezzie (krith)
Tedium of Time by oneredshoe
Tango by Desert_Sea
Sense and Insensibility by Desert_Sea
Time Mutable Immutable by Grooot
The Twenty by Leyna Rountree
For the Only Hope by ausland @run-with-me-to-the-sea
Bundle of Joy by LadyTuesday
Our Hands Tied by multilingualism
Choose Something Like A Star by TeddyRadiator
Mistress of the Stacks by Ms_Anthrop
A Derailed Train of Thought by Ms_Anthrop
Antiquities by stormcorona
Watch Over Me by @snapeslittleblackbuttons​
Dropped Down into the Unknown by @q-drew​
Delicate Transitions by @morbidmuch​
Lay Me Low by TeddyRadiator
The Savage by MagdatheMagpie
Another Dream by @dragoon811​
A Chance For Happiness by @corvusdraconis​
Breath of the Nundu by corvusdraconis, Dragon_and_the_Rose
Just to Be by Amarti @amarti-writes-stuff​
Hinge of Fate by Ramos
Forged in Flames by @mswhich​
Days in the Sun by bluespring864
Making sure the boy who lived, actually does by Hold_en @hold-enwrites​
The Problem With Purity by Phoenix.Writing
One Step Forward, Two Decades Back by corvusdraconis
The Headmaster’s Wife by Mrs_HH @propertyofseverustsnape
The Master, the Warden, the Headmaster, and the Deputy by mak5258
Cloak of Courage by Wendynat
Hermione Granger and the Intended Vessels by ShawnaCanon
Augury and Ardor by SnapeySnax
Before the Dawn by snarkyroxy
The Love You Take by Subversa
His Draught of Delicate Poison by Subversa
and sooooo many more if you want them just ask, this is both mine and Perry’s oldest ship lol
Gramander (Original Graves x Newt)
A Gilded Cage is Still a Cage by Anonymous
take a deep breath (and let it go) by lincesque @tumbloncat
Roar by @elenothar
Matchmaker, Matchmaker by @prosodiical
Dearly Beloved by prosodiical
Basic Instincts by @manic-intent
Promised by Miss_Lv
Plan G by Aate
Heat of the Chase by argentoswan @wannahearaboutmycats
Newt Scamander’s Guide to Getting Things Done by arthureameslove
Against all Odds by Maril
Where I Belong by Mishafied
He Wants To Say, “I Love You, Nothing Can Hurt You”  by @obsidionwingsofmidnight
Arranged by Miss_Lv
death of a bachelor by gudetama (elementary)
The Graves Identity by Mishafied
you make me feel this way somehow by gudetama (elementary)
The Nature of the Beast by AntiGravitas @absolutelynogravitaswhatsoever
The Knights, the Newt, and the Rose by @yinyangswings
The Wizard’s Cat by @natecchi
The Color of Boom by gypsiangel
Signalling Theory: Blue Coat by @obaewankenope​
Flame by @esamastation​
And The Tag Read Simply: “Pretty” by @funkzpiel​
Aren’t You Gonna Arrest Me, Officer? by JoyBurd
a little bit lost by shortbread @shortbread-fanfiction​
Dramione
Rec assistance by @cuthian​
Seven Times by kerri240879
Her Beauty and the Moonlight by BrilliantLady
The Fallout by everythursday (orphaned and only available on AO3 now, but complete)
The Eagle’s Nest by HeartOfAspen
Turncoat by elizaye @imnotleavinherewithoutyou
The Virgin Conundrum by AkashaTheKitty @akashathekitty
Bad Faith by Morrighan256
Isolation by bexchan @bex-chan-blog
The Serpent, the Witch, and the Broom Closet by bitchywitchy
Silencio by AkashaTheKitty
All You Want by senlinyu @senlinyu
Static by galfoy @heymanticore
What the Room Requires by Alydia Rackham
And We All Fall Down by @rumaan
Ambition’s End by Hanako A
Wait and Hope by mightbewriting @mightbewriting
Rewriting Destiny by mayawrites95 (mayarox95)
Chronos Historia by In_Dreams @indreamsink
A Muggle-born Magic by Musyc @willhavetheirtrinkets
Hunted by Bex-chan
A Second Look by @riverwriter
The Nietzsche Classes by Beringae
This Too, Is Sacred by HeartOfAspen
Bite First, Ask Questions Later by Daredevilsinthedetails, Kaylessi
Nocturnus by In_Dreams @indreamsink
Broken by @inadaze22​
The Green Girl by Colubrina
Lady of the Lake by Colubrina
Rebuilding by Colubrina (really just anything written by @colubrina)
Presque Toujours Pur by @shayalonnie
Can’t Change the Way I Am by @nauticalparamour
Law and Marriage by DragonGrin (formerly TeenTypist)
The Tower Window by @xodramaqueenox​
Unexpected by Emara88
Something Old, Something New by Kate Dessi
Suppressed Emotions by hopelesslydevoted.xx 
Silver Blood by @freyaishtar
When the Day Met the Night by @bex-la-get
Harmony
A Marauder’s Plan by CatsAreCool (Rachel500)
A Step to the Right by CatsAreCool (Rachel500)
Eighth by lorien829
The Catalyst by lorien829
Harry Potter and the Isle of Mists by lorien829
Knife’s Edge by Celtic55
The Black Book by mosteveryonesmad
Awakening by SweetShireen
The Sword and the Snake by bartonfink1974
Dispelling the Silence by Indygodusk
One Year Later: Return to Hogwarts by Twilight’s Inferno
DraHarmony
Fourteen Thousand Galleons by @frumpologist
The Invitation by hot_elf @hot-elf
Love Love Love by MissELY @misselylux​
Changing Scenery by aethling
East of Eden by msmerlin @ms-merlinblack
Turn Back Time by Dazeventura6
Foxfire by @setissma
Come Together by @nuclearnik
The Soul of the Wolves by LR_Earl @fanficbylrearl
Running From Lions by tryslora @tryslora
An Unexpected Family by ladyroxanne21
The Prophecies by jamcreynolds
Drarhinny
Reconstruction by @aldersprig​
Fell From the Sky by BrandonStrayne @brandonstrayne​ (I really love this one, and not just as a Canadian.)
Demons From the Past by pottermum
Drarry
Rec assistance by @newtypeshadow​
Rarely Pure and Never Simple by birdsofshore
Aural Gratification by birdsofshore
Lost Among and Falling by @bafflinghaze
The Corruption Sequence series by beren @berenwrites
Sentinel ‘verse series by elyssblair @elyssblair-blog
Date Blindness by dysonrules
Starts With a Spin by Maxine @serasarahhhh​
Temptation on the Warfront by alizarincrimson
Paradigm by dysonrules
Here’s The Pencil, Make It Happen by ignatiustrout
Draco Sodding Malfoy by Shewhxmustnxtbenamed @shewhomustnotbenamed
Pieces of What by Jadwiga
Found, Not Lost by inspiration_assaulted
Shared Detention by DadIWriteGayPorn
Dirty Little Secret by Writcraft @writcraft​
19 Years by shilo1364 @whimsicaldragonette​
Morning Suns & Coffee Runs by laugh_a_latte @queer-coffee​
Reus Una by purplepen76
Between Ink and Blood by Candamira
Ginmione
Distractions by @morningsound15​ 
Cissamione
(This seems like it’s a bit cracky, but there’s some good ones, I promise! I sorta stumbled ass-backwards into this ship but really enjoy some of them.)
One Step Left by Cysteine @cysteine
Extinction by @rubikanon​
Blinding Light by @16-pennies​
Somebody Loved by beforeyouspeak
...
..
There. This is much better, isn’t it?
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So my challenge to you, if your world is falling, burning down around you in flames... is this:
...if you feel yourself getting anxious or depressed, whether from the news or being cooped up in isolation or bored or on the verge of tearing your hair out or jumping off that roof or grabbing something to go after the dictator-of-the-week.... pause, take a breath, open up this rec list, close your eyes and pick something, and let chance take you somewhere hopefully far away. Let yourself be transported.
Oh, and don’t click on this Google Drive link. Really, there’s not 30+ GB of data on that Drive I’m sharing. Shame. There totally aren’t tens of thousands of books, as many audiobooks as could fit, and a large collection of fanfiction downloaded from AO3 in there. (Also, not all fics have been shared to that folder yet; I’m working on it a little at a time as I download more.)
153 notes · View notes
ingek73 · 3 years
Text
Fairytales for fuckwits: Meghan, a children's book, and the school bully tactics of the British tabloids...
Piers Morgan's obsession with Meghan Markle continues, while Mike Graham appears worried there may be too many big words for him to understand.
Mic Wright
May 6
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On May the 4th, there was a great disturbance in the force, as if thousands of tabloid reporters and talk radio pundits cried out at once: The Duchess of Sussex had announced she was writing a children’s book.
Since the earth-shattering news that Meghan has written a story about the relationship between father’s and their sons — apparently based on a poem she wrote for Prince Harry — the tabloid press and talk radio stations have gone into meltdown.
The Sun has managed to crank out seven hysterically-pitched stories on the announcement since it dropped — the book isn’t out until June 8th — with each more unhinged than the last:
MEG TO PAPER Meghan Markle writes children’s book inspired by Prince Harry and baby Archie about ‘bond between father and son’
MEG-A MOVE Meghan Markle’s first priority should be mending broken relationships with royals not writing kids’ book, expert claims
SOUNDS A BIT WOODEN ‘Schmaltzy’ Meghan Markle ‘on dodgy ground’ with kids’ book celebrating fathers ‘after own bust-up with dad’ says author
DOUBLE DUCH Meghan Markle accused of copying her kids’ book The Bench from another story – but author defends her
NOT WRITE Piers Morgan slams ‘hypocrite’ Meghan Markle for kids’ book on ‘father-son bond’ after ‘ruining Harry and Charles’ ties’
'RIDICULOUS' Meghan Markle using Duchess of Sussex as author name ‘laughable’ after she wanted to cut Royal ties, says royal expert
CUT PRICE Meghan Markle’s kids’ book has price slashed already at Amazon and Waterstones
You’ll notice that Piers Morgan — a man who has turned one drink with Meghan after which he claims she “ghosted him”, which took place in 2016, into a five year and counting obsession — gets his own story there. That’s The Sun filleting Morgan’s spittle-flecked Daily Mail column on the book for its own news piece.
Morgan, who trails his columns on Twitter like they are exciting new releases rather than the tabloid equivalent of a letter scrawled in faeces forced through your letterbox, dashed out his thoughts on The Bench with the indecent haste of a man running along while his trousers fall down.
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Image description: “Twitter avatar for @BreeNewsome
DEFUND & ABOLISH POLICE, REFUND OUR COMMUNITIES
@BreeNewsome
Piers Morgan’s obsession with Meghan Markle is genuinely disturbing. He’s really just using the guise of journalism to be a public stalker and harasser.
May 5th 2021
1,414 Retweets10,252 Likes”
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Beneath a typically screaming Mail headline — How the hell can Meghan 'I hate royalty but call me Duchess' Markle preach about father-child relationships when she's disowned her own Dad, and wrecked her husband's relationship with his? — Morgan howled:
… she continues to cynically exploit her royal titles because she knows that's the only reason anyone is paying her vast sums of money to spew her uniquely unctuous brand of pious hectoring gibberish in Netflix documentaries, Spotify podcasts or children's books.
Of course, her equally cynical publishers don't give a damn about any of this shocking double standard.
Forget the fact that Meghan had a good degree of personal fame before she ever met Prince Harry, Piers Morgan accusing anyone else of being a cynical fame chaser is beyond parody. From his earliest days as a gossip hack, Morgan has muscled into pictures with the rich and famous, desperate to be someone.
When Meghan was willing to indulge him, he showered her with praise, but once she stopped taking his calls, he turned into the Tinder match from hell. That he has been married to his second wife, fellow controversialist columnist Celia Walden since 2010 seemingly did nothing to dampen his obsession.
Having repeatedly interviewed Meghan’s estranged father Thomas Markle — another man aggrieved because a woman would rather not spend time with him — Morgan sneers:
If she really cared about father-child relationships, she'd take a chauffeur-driven limousine on the hour-long trip to see her own father who's never even met either Harry or Archie.
It’s projection again: Piers Morgan’s ego is so egg-shell thin that after Meghan decided that one drink was more than enough, he’s spent 5 years seeking revenge and convinced that he’s been wronged, just like her ‘poor old dad’. That’s the ‘poor old dad’ that insists on talking about his daughter to journalists at every possible occasion.
At the end of an article that implies Harry and Meghan contributed to the death of Prince Philip — he died of natural causes — and rants on about “the woke”, Morgan ends with this:
But then as we've seen from her gruesomely self-interested behaviour during a pandemic that's caused so much devastation and pain to billions around the world, Meghan Markle doesn't really care about anyone but herself.
Remember, the Duchess of Sussex’s only ‘crime’ here is to write a children’s book which people will be free to buy or ignore with equal ease. But, as ever, Piers Morgan treats the news with all the proportionality of a US drone strike.
The real story here is about how Morgan — the bittiest of bit-part players in the narrative of Meghan and Harry’s lives — is so desperate to upgrade his place in the cast list that he will rant and rave to stay relevant. His departure from Good Morning Britain came after his last stream of invective about Meghan and he knows this schtick gets him the attention and money he craves.
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Image description: “Twitter avatar for @MariaLRoach
Maria Roach
@MariaLRoach
Meghan Markle inside the tiny space called Piers Morgan’s head. #duchessofsussex Tap Dance GIF by Miss America
May 5th 2021
122 Retweets1,619 Likes”
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Aside from Morgan’s column, MailOnline has published 9 other news stories on or related to the book announcement. The most telling of them is one that links the Duchess of Sussex’s book to another one… by the Duchess of Cambridge.
Headlined Bookshelf battle royale! Kate Middleton shares a glimpse inside her Hold Still photobook just a day after Meghan Markle unveiled her own £12.99 children's story, the story unsurprisingly treats Kate with kid gloves while continuing to imply that Meghan is the kind of person who would make gloves out of kids if it suited her devilish schemes.
There’s no shade thrown at the Duchess of Cambridge for revealing further details of her book just hours after Meghan’s announcement. Instead, the story — lavishly illustrated with images from the book — gushes:
The Duchess of Cambridge has shared a glimpse of her photography book Hold Still ahead of its release on Friday…
… Kate, 39, a keen photographer, launched a campaign during the first lockdown last year to ask the public to submit images which captured the period.
It even includes a mention of an image of a BLM protestor saying:
Over the course of the project, the Duchess shared a number of her favourite images on the Kensington Royal Instagram page, including a Black Lives Matter protester holding a sign reading: 'Be on the right side of history.'
If Meghan had done the same she would have been decried for “supporting extremists”. Remember the contrasting way their mutual taste for avocado was covered?
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15 Headlines Show How Differently The British Press Treat Meghan Markle Vs Kate Middleton | Bored Panda
Over at The Daily Telegraph, Spiked alumna Ella Whelan offered her thoughts on a book that isn’t released until next month under the headline Meghan Markle’s fun-free children’s book may put an entire generation off reading, which makes it sound like a grimoire full of dark magic rather than a gentle children’s book about kids and their dads.
Just as with the Mail’s story on Kate’s book, it’s worth imagining what Whelan would say if the Duchess of Cambridge had written The Bench. Look at the following section…
It reveals something of the political superficiality of Harry and Meghan’s activism that an “inclusive” book would use the military father as its promotional message. Perhaps it’s a cultural thing, but if my kids have to read about soldiers, I’d prefer Hans Christian Andersen’s tin version rather than the woke posturing of a former royal.
… and notice that because Meghan is the author including a father who is in the military is “political superficiality”. If Kate had written a story that featured an analogue for Prince William — who also spent time in uniform, though in less dangerous circumstances than his ‘spare’ brother — Whelan would likely deem it a ‘touching tribute to their love’.
Similarly, Sarah Ferguson — the ex-wife of Prince Andrew, top Yelp! reviewer for Jeffrey Epstein’s houses and noted avoider of FBI questioning — uses the title Duchess of York on her many execrable children’s books.
Now that Meghan is the tabloid’s new monster in the monarchy, Fergie’s antics are pointed to as a positive with her books flattered even as Meghan’s as-yet-unpublished book is panned.
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Image description: “Twitter avatar for @talkRADIO
talkRADIO
@talkRADIO
Meghan Markle is releasing a new children's book about father-son relationships.
Mike Graham: "It's so juvenile. This is somebody who acts like she's still in high school... it's not exactly Tennyson, is it?
@mrmarkdolan | @Iromg Image
May 5th 2021
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Over on talkRADIO, Mike Graham — a melting mass of expired meat — ranted about a children’s book, worried perhaps that it will contain too many long words. Speaking to his colleague, Mark Dolan — Dennis Pennis without the charm — Graham crowed:
It’s so juvenile. This is somebody who acts like she’s still in high school… I don’t have anything against her for any particular reason, other than she’s a bit too American, you know. She thinks everything is just great and cheesy. Rhyming the words ‘joy’ and ‘boy’. It’s not exactly Tennyson, is it?
Ah yes, that famous children’s author, Alfred, Lord Tennyson, known for such devastating rhymes as this one from The Lady of Shallot: “She left the web/ She left the loom/ She made three paces through the room.”
I’m not saying The Lady of Shalott is rubbish — though I do still hold a grudge against Tennyson after some very tedious teaching in high school — but that focusing on one rhyme in a poem is an easy trick if you want to say its shit. That Graham cannot see the irony in decrying writing a children’s book as “juvenile” is just one of the reasons he’s employed by a station with less than 1% reach.
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Piers Morgan ranting about the one who got away in 5, 4, 3.......
Media Guardian @mediaguardian
Meghan wins copyright claim against Mail on Sunday over letter https://t.co/cJZTgDMvgz
May 5th 2021
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There’ll be a new round of these columns, stories, and talk radio segments when the book is released, particularly as The Mail on Sunday just lost the second part of Meghan’s copyright claim against it.
There’s nothing that either Meghan or Harry could do that wouldn’t drive these rats in a sack rabid. If they did nothing, they’d be called lazy. When they make things, take jobs, or really say anything the very media that benefits hugely from stories about them scream that it’s a cry for attention. And yet Piers Morgan regularly pissing himself in public is “commentary”.
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