#Andrea di York | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

charlotte-of-wales · 3 months

Text

a summary of the Monaco Tea, creds to the lovely anon who sent me the article <3

btw most of the information on the family was in article one, the latter were more just info on real estate + off shore accounts

again, this info is all coming from the former accountant of the family:

Prince Rainier III was seriously considering changing succession laws so Caroline would be the head of the family and Monaco as he found Albert to be weak. Albert is said to be the "despised member of the clan" who would stutter while speaking to his father. Rainier even looked into what this would mean to the Grimaldi name since Andrea - at the time 17 - obviously carries his father's name (Casiraghi) and not his mother's (Grimaldi). Rainier told the ones carrying the investigation that this was done in case Albert died.

the funds from Albert's state endowment and his private funds would be mixed all the time.

Albert would say yes to essentially everything his family asked for, including a $30 million apartment for Stephanie

Palmero (the accountant) would frequently buy things for the family to keep "their privacy". He bought Charlene's engagement ring and multiple properties for the Grimaldi's in France. He would pay property taxes for those properties and have the family pay him back.

Caroline and Stephanie would frequently make use of and sell family property (Rainier's cars, family jewelry and art, etc) without letting him know, even though they technically belonged to Albert.

Caroline is in charge of the family's castle in Marchais, which he had an issue with as she would always go off budget.

he makes a note to pay attention to Pierre Casiraghi as he is very ambitious and his dealings in real estate could create problems (spoiler alert: it did)

Caroline is said to hate Charlene

the allowance that Charlene, Caroline and Stephanie receive increases constantly, which worried Palmero. As of late, they were: 1,5 million euros for Charlene, 900.000 for Caroline and 800.000 for Stephanie yearly. This follows the family hierarchy.

Jazmin Grace receives 86,000 dollars per quarter. In February 2010, Palmero had to spend $5,000 “extra for her birthday”. Albert also bought her a $3 million apartment in New York City.

Albert spends almost a million a year funding Nicole Coste's (the mother of Albert's second illegimate child) fashion business. It's all in Alexandre Coste's name as Nicole fears that Charlene might create issues when Albert dies.

loots about Charlene. She frequently demands high sums in cash, her personal chef is $300 a day, she has multiple undocumented people from the Philippines working in her staff, the celebrations for the birth and baptism of the twins was well over half a million euros, in eight years Charlene spent around 15 million euros when she received 7.5 million euros in endowment (the Palace didn't deny this and said that the accountant was simply told to pay the difference with the family's personal funds), she spent 965,000 on a villa in two and a half months, her office decoration cost a million euros, she requested 3 x 300,000 for her brother's house.

Palmero made sure to change Monaco's regency laws so in case something happens to Albert while Jacques is underage Charlene won't be regent. Instead, the principality will be ruled by a regency council.

Albert has a secret apartment in Monaco, bought by one of Palmero's secret companies. He also got rid of problematic photographs of Albert (hinted at blackmail).

there was a whole system for hiding sums used on "special missions". They were labeled DS (for special destinations) and with time were used to pay for an informal intelligence unit that operated within the police force of the principality. They'd collect information on those close to the family and even on politians of the principality. He would also pay journalists to paint a good picture of Monaco while Hollande was president in France and was constantly criticizing tax-havens.

the DS accounts would be used to hide over-budget situations, including budget for the children's nannies and the budget for the wedding.

they were terrified of the Panama papers, as a lot of money laundering funds go through Monaco and the family had accounts on Panamanian banks.

a link between a Russian billionaire and the Monegasque Minister of Justice was revealed in 2017 and the Minister was forced to resign. An investigation was launched by a French judge and there was fears that the palace would be involved: jurisdictional immunity was granted to members of the sovereign family by order. There was rumours that the French judge wanted to hear the Prince as a witness......he was told to leave the principality. He was accused of having, through his “behavior perceived as authoritarian and vexatious”, “endangered the proper functioning of the criminal justice system”.

the real estate market is a big point of collision here and a big focus of article 3. Nothing too interesting to report - Palmero says he tried mingling in the market to break down the monopoly of real estate owners in Monaco (centered around a bestie of the Casiraghi brothers) while Albert claims Palmero had close ties with some of the developers and tried mingling with things that were of interest of the government in order to make money. The real estate issue was what eventually led Palmero to be fired. Palmero and a former laywer of Albert who was his childhood bestfriend and is also now a persona non grata claims that Albert is now fully under the influence of the bestie of the Casiraghi brothers who now controls the real estate in Monaco.

Palmaro is STILL paying property tax on properties he bought for the family!! crazy!!

Palmero detailed a number of off-shore accounts that hold about 250 million euros of the family's fortune including a company created specifically for Charlotte Casiraghi. He passed on the information from that account to Albert's new accountant at a monitored meeting.

Albert's explanation is lowkey....pathetic. He claims he told Palmero to move all of his family's assets from off-shore accounts to Monaco but Palmero never did it and that was that. He claims he was never able to obtain a precise statement on the family assets due to Palmero's secrecy and Albert just trusted him. He claims Palmero would act in his name and refuse to delay his decisions.

#and that's what you missed on glee #again thank u so much anon you're the best!!!!#this was a wild ride #mpf

92 notes · View notes

straydog733 · 6 months

Text

I just need to share with you one of the stupidest writing choices I've seen in a long time.

(Spoilers for The Gilded Age S2 Premiere)

-/-

So The Gilded Age is not a good show, but it's a not-good show that I'm going to watch every second of. It's by the guy who made Downton Abbey, leaning into all his worst habits, and it's trash in incredibly tacky outfits. But anyway, in Season 1, they have this character named Peggy. She's a young woman, from a Black Elite family in New York, ambitions to be a journalist, but also some mysterious secret that she's keeping all season. It's eventually dribbled out that she had a baby who died at birth, but when someone tries to blackmail her for her scandalous past, turns out she was married at the time (to a lower class man her father didn't approve of, but married nonetheless), so she can be pitied, not scorned. After the baby died, her father paid her husband to fuck off and annul the marriage. This was a few years ago, and Peggy has been trying to find the midwife who delivered her stillborn, to talk to her and get a bit of closure.

PSYCH, BABY'S ALIVE! Her father paid the midwife (what must have been an absurd amount of money) to kidnap his grandson, foist him off to another family, and tell Peggy her baby died. The first season ends with her and her mother heading off on an adventure to find and reunite with her boy.

So this plot was very unpopular and got the show a lot of criticism. It was boring, it was a scandal with all the scandal removed, it was a retread of a Downton plot, and it took Peggy away from the actually interesting stuff about New York black high society and black journalism at the turn of the century. So how best to respond to these criticisms in the premiere of Season 2?

PSYCH, BABY'S DEAD AGAIN! We start the season after a time skip, in which time Peggy has managed to track down her three year old son, gotten in contact with his family, and almost reunited with him...only to learn he died of scarlet fever six months ago. The season starts with them having learned this a bit ago and already in mourning, because the show creator refuses to put anything interesting on screen, and by the end of the episode she is determined to leave her parents' home again and basically return to her non-baby Season 1 plot.

And I just can't get over the fact that they double-killed her baby. I get wanting to write out this stupid plot, but there are ways to do it that don't feel like a shaggy dog story and bury a vibrant character in mourning for the season premiere!

Andrea and I have been plotting alternatives, and it would have been SO easy: have her meet the kid, realize he's a happy toddler with a loving family, and that she doesn't want to tear him away from that to be a single mother (which a character on Downton did twice with the same baby, so you'd even be attoning for a previous sin!). "Oh my darling son, I am glad to know you, and I will make you proud of your mother's accomplishments as I take the publishing world by storm!" Then you never have to show the kid again, can throw in a line every now and then about her visiting, and she can still do her fun plotline! Boom, fixed it!

It is all just brain-bendingly stupid and I needed to ramble and share the joy. And as a reward for getting to the end, have a ridiculous costume photo of an unrelated character:

#the gilded age #downton abbey #julian fellows #they double-killed her baby

67 notes · View notes

mirandapriestlyswife · 18 days

Text

Mirandy Fanfic- Apocalypse Au: Prologue

Hi! Before you read I would just like to say as a disclaimed this is my first fanfic and it has not been peer reviewed or anything of that sort so I apologize for any spelling or grammatical mistakes. This AU is heavily inspired by “Last Man on Earth” and I intend to write multiple chapters for it. Constructive criticism is welcome! Please enjoy :)

New York City, the city that never sleeps. Theres always some type of noise; sirens, traffic, yelling… Theres always some type of noise. Something to serve as a reminder that, “Hey! You aren’t the only person in the whole world!”. At least thats what it used to sound like..

Tonight, all that could be audible was the rustling of trash in the frigid November air. Andrea Sachs, Andy, former reporter for The Mirror marched her way down block after block. She couldn’t pin point exactly when the pandemic began. Early March of last year perhaps? Or maybe mid February? She couldn’t remember.. Hell, she was still trying to process the fact that everyone, everything she once knew was dead and gone.

New York City had been put under lockdown almost immediately after the United States government had declared a national pandemic. Andy hadn’t seen her parents since..

Sure, they’d talk over the phone, but there was little to talk about when the entire world was practically put on pause. She heard from her sister, Jill, every once in a while, but she had her own problems.

Andy had borderline lost complete touch with her entire family by August of that year, until she was notified that she had lost not one, but both parents to the infection. Both dead at home, not even in a hospital. Soon followed her nephew, then her sister, then her sister’s husband. In only a matter of 6 months she had lost the people most important to her.

After her and Nate, her ex boyfriend, had split, her childhood best friend had graciously allowed her to crash on her couch until she found her own place. Living with Lily was… Well.. Not the easiest.. Somehow this girl, even in the midst of a global pandemic, still managed to bring home a guy every weekend. At the time Andy had debated killing Lily on more than one occasion.. Oh how she envies those times. Two months later, Lily passed. The hospitals were already crammed to the brim with patients so, just like her parents, her best friend had died at home.. But this time, it was even worse, since she was the one to discover that body.

Andy had always been sensitive, possibly too much so. But she can’t recall a time she had cried harder than when looking at the lifeless corpse of the girl she’d known for more than half her life. Oh Lily..

She got laid off the next week. You would think the world of journalism would be booming during such trying times? But no. People simply stopped reading the paper. “Too depressing” is what she remembers her mother saying when Andy had asked if they had seen the latest death poll. She couldn’t blame people for not reading the news. God knows she would’ve too if it wasn’t the only thing keeping her from going insane. With every book in her apartment being read more than twice, along with having long ran out of DVDs, the only thing she could find comfort in now was the constant cycle of magazines and newspapers placed at her apartment door every morning. Eventually that stopped coming too.

Eventually.. Everything stopped. Electricity, running water, food. It just all.. Came to a halt. People seemed to have disappeared. It was like the entire human race just one day packed their bags and left Andy there. Alone. She was all alone. She cried over the fact a lot. No, not cried.. More like wailed. Wailed as loud as one could, hoping that someone, something would hear her, and come over and bring her into a warm comforting hug..

Of course the chances of that were 0 but.. She still had some hope. Tonight, Andy lazily roamed around the streets of New York, glancing into long abandoned shops and restaurants.. Often times she found herself sleeping in luxurious hotels and suites for free. I mean, why not? If theres no one there to charge you or say, “Ma’am this is an art museum, you cant stay here.” Why not sleep in The Met??

She walked with purpose down those cracking sidewalks, even though in reality she knew she had nothing left to live for. Had she contemplated suicide? On multiple occasions. The only reason she was even still alive at all was because she knew her parents would’ve wanted her to keep going, “keep fighting” her father would say. Andy sighed, what purpose was fighting if there was nothing to fight for? She walked aimlessly for hours, only stopping every so often to raid a bodega for a bag of expired chips. She rarely thinks of her time at Runway, or at least she tries not to, since it just opens up a can of unresolved feelings that she cares not to open. She wonders what those clackers would think of her now. It makes her chuckle. Thoughts of models with mouths gaping in shock at the sight of Andy Sachs, in her college hoodie and jeans she hadn’t washed since July making her way down Manhattan with a bag of expired Doritos and no makeup, flood her mind, causing the rarest of chuckles to fall from her lips.

The only reason that Runway even popped into her head was due to the sight of the massive, ever-ominous, Elias-Clarke building across the street. Oh how she despised that building. She’d walked past it a million times. One million more times than she had liked to. Every time she saw the damned thing it brought up feelings… Feelings she’d love to forget. Feelings towards fashion, towards Runway, towards her.

The dragon lady, the ice cold bitch of fashion, Miranda Priestly. The woman that had stolen Andreas heart and stomped on with her Prada heels.

Andy cringes at the shameful acts of her past self. Falling head over heels for a woman is one thing.. But falling for a woman 25 years her senior, and thats super rich and powerful?? Oh how could one be so stupid?!

Now here she stands, before her former prison of employment. She’d never actually bothered to intrude the building. She figured she’d find the usual. Abandoned computers, dust bunnies, medical masks, maybe the occasional cockroach. Shockingly, even after seemingly every other living organism had died out.. Or at least reduced in size, cockroaches rained ever strong. Six legged assholes.

Something inside her tells her, “Just go for it. Get some closure.” So, thats exactly what she does. She crosses the empty street, sliding over a taxi that had inconveniently been abandoned in the middle of the road, and walked right up to the front door.

“Its probably locked..” She muttered to nobody. Andy had developed this habit of talking to herself over the months of isolation. It was comforting, to hear a voice. She jiggled the rotating door and to her utter shock. The thing budged. And in one swift motion, she was in the lobby of the Elias-Clarke building once again. Things have hardly changed… Well.. besides the lack of anorexic models talking about how they “Almost called in fat today.” She rolled her eyes at the memory of hearing a 100 pound model saying those exact words to her.

Andy stops at the stairwell. Should she go up to the Runway floor? Why not? Whats the harm? Worst thing that could happen is she cries, and it isn’t like she wasn’t going to do that anyways. She made her way up the stairs. Climbing floor after floor until eventually she found her way to her former place of employment. More like imprisonment, but still. She abandons her empty Dorito bag on her old second assistants desk. She wonders what skinny 5’11 blonde supermodel Miranda had replaced her with. Had her name been Stacy? Or Sylvia? Or-

Andys shocked out of her thoughts when she hears a noise. Walking.. Yeah thats- that’s definitely walking. She stops frozen in place. The building is almost entirely dark besides the sunlight coming from the windows where Mirandas office used to be, so she couldn’t exactly see well. Her whole body starts shaking. What should she do?! She hadn’t seen an actual living person since.. Since.. Since she couldn’t even remember. The walking got louder, the click clack of what sounded like… High heels..? No it couldn’t-

Andys internal monologue is suddenly silenced when she hears a gasp from behind her. Shes too stunned to move, to speak, to do much of anything besides meekly turn her head around. And who is she greeted with?? No one other than the dragon lady herself of course…

“Andrea?” An impossibly regal Miranda Priestly asks.

And thats about it for the prologue! Thank you so much for reading :)

23 notes · View notes

organ-market · 9 months

Text

Unconventional Detective Games

Return of the Obra Dinn, 2018

The maritime mystery game Return of the Obra Dinn by Lucas Pope is almost entirely subversive for a detective game. Everything in the game from its core premise to hyper stylized presentation, is all ambitious and experimental. Every person aboard the Obra Dinn has mysteriously died and you assume the role of an insurance investigator piecing together the horrific events using a magic watch that delivers to you a front seat viewing of a vignette of each person’s demise. Using these dioramas of death, you are charged with recording the manner of death of each and each crewmember and passenger aboard the ship.

Return of the Obra Dinn and its addictively satisfying detective puzzle gameplay left me hungry for more. Playing the game instilled in me a deep love for a good mystery and a desire to solve them. While I love games like Disco Elysium, which stars detectives as its protagonists, the investigation was never really the point. Moreover, a love for the unconventional detective was entrenched in my heart and as an interactive medium, video games are perfect for aspiring would-be detectives.

Overboard! , 2021

The year is 1935, aboard the S.S. Hook, Veronica Villensy throws her husband overboard under the foggy shade of night. In Inkle’s devilishly clever puzzle/visual novel, Overboard! you have eight hours before reaching the ports of New York and in that limited time you must relieve yourself from suspicion and guilt for your husband’s death at any cost. It’s a sort of anti-detective puzzle about getting away with murder which forces you to learn your fellow passenger’s schedules, plant evidence, and be consistently careful with your language lest your words betray you much later.

The DNA of time loop games such as Majora’s Mask and The Sexy Brutale is woven into the gameplay loop of Overboard! It’s a fairly short game taking around 2-3 hours to finish the story but at the benefit of allowing an immense amount of player agency. There is a wide variety of solutions to evading the mighty hand of justice, you are free to travel around the ship on a whim with no direction from the game itself. The only hint system is visiting the chapel and praying to God which is both cleverly diegetic and hilarious.

The nonlinearity of your objective incentivizes logical thinking and experimentation. The puzzle is rewarding much like learning each map and NPC routines in the Hitman: World of Assassination trilogy is. At first you clumsily trip over your words when Major Singh interrogates you but eventually you can get away with murder in style along with netting some pocket money from the life insurance if you pull it all off just right!

The nonlinearity of each puzzle in Overboard! is incredibly refreshing, it just feels organic and natural. Going achievement hunting in this game is its own little puzzle and I still haven’t figured out some of the little secrets it hides from us. It’s a game I can’t put down and haven’t yet been able to stop thinking about and I really recommend giving it a shot since it’s only $15 and only $6 if you catch it on sale.

Pentiment, 2022

Obsidian Entertainment’s Pentiment was my favorite game of 2022 and enraptured me for long nights as I obsessed over its rich dialogue and gorgeous medieval illumination manuscript inspired art. So much love and research was put into the historical setting, it takes place in 16th Century Bavaria within the town of Tassing is filled with life and character. You play as Andreas Maler, an artist working in an abbey on a hill and whilst attempting to finish your masterpiece, your co-worker and friend, Brother Piero, is falsely accused of the murder of a wealthy Baron who was staying in town. You are sprung into action as you only have a limited amount of time to clear Brother Piero’s name.

You are given a limited amount of time to wander around town, attempting to conduct interviews, deduce motives, and eventually gather enough evidence to bring the culprit to justice. Because of the impending trial, time is ever so precious in Pentiment and you will never have enough time to do everything you want at your leisure. Every moment dwelling on conversation or recreation is time you could have spent digging for answers. In order to pin a suspect you must hone in on what you think is most beneficial for your case like a true detective.

Brother Piero’s freedom is always at the cost of another’s conviction, in Pentiment you must push the blame onto someone else. During your investigations, you find that Sister Matilda, a nun at the abbey, had been assaulted by the late Baron many years ago. This is one of the clearest motives in the game but most physical evidence points in other directions, all the while every nun in the abbey will assure you of her innocence.

Saint John's Eve Festival Bonfire

Convincing the archdeacon (the head of the trial) of Sister Matilda’s guilt is perhaps the easiest of all the suspects to accomplish and Pentiment will not tell you outwardly that Matilda didn’t do it but it doesn’t have to. In a clever subversion, the game never tells you if you caught the culprit in the end. Pentiment, brilliantly, left me to wonder if I made the right choices as the totality of the lethal consequences of my actions weighed on my mind. You can easily convince the archdeacon of someone’s guilt but are you able to convince yourself?

The brutality of the executions should not be understated. You look on helplessly as someone you convicted meets an unwieldy end as they plead, cry, and eventually die. The executioner’s sword rises and falls as it lodges itself into the neck again and again until the head breaks free from the neck. Whether you like it or not, your choices matter in Pentiment and the consequences stare you down with a harsh disposition.

While playing Pentiment I was continually reminded of a line from Rian Johnson’s murder mystery film Knives Out. The titular detective Benoit Blanc (he’s so me by the way) notes that, “...the complexity and the gray lie not in the truth but what you do with the truth once you have it.” The complexity of truth is captured beautifully by Pentiment. In many regards it is a conventional mystery but by weaponizing the player’s need for clear answers it infected my mind for many hours after the credits rolled along with the minds of many others. There are fierce debates and chatter surrounding who really did the killing. Pentiment wasn’t as well talked about as it deserved, with all the games releasing it was overlooked by most. Well, it isn’t exactly for everyone but for the price of $20 it gave me a wealth of dialogue to mull over and wonder about.

Phasmophobia, 2022

A multiplayer ghost hunting spookfest is not exactly what you’d think of when discussing detective games but Kinetic Game’s Phasmophobia is deeply investigative by nature. Intense inspection is at the beating heart of the game with an important twist. Where ordinarily a detective chases after a suspect after the fact, here your suspect is reacting to your every move and can (and will) kill you on a whim. In the game you and up to three other friends venture into a haunted house and gather evidence and clues to determine which of the twenty four ghosts in the game is currently residing in your location.

You and your team will wander out of the safety of your van and into cold, darkened rooms to find clues by checking thermometers, speaking into spirit boxes, and throwing salt all over the floor in hopes of getting the ghost to step in it. Not only can you gather evidence with your camera and UV lights but another layer in your investigation is the behavior of the ghost. Knowing how aggressive each ghost is or how fast it is, is a tremendous asset in your deductive arsenal. The more you know, the more you can whittle the possibilities down until you have your culprit.

But finding the ghost and gathering evidence is just one thing, surviving the ghost is another. Being in the dark and bearing witness to paranormal activity will deplete your sanity and eventually the ghost will target you for a hunt. The front door slamming shut marks the beginning of a hunt, the ghost will manifest physically and chase you down and kill you if you don’t hide in time.

Corpse of my friend, deceased. Moments before I run out of the house in terror.

Phasmophobia is a dangerous balancing act of facing your fears by delving into the darkness in order to find clues and trying desperately to find the ghost type as fast as you can so you can get the hell out of there. The reactivity of the ghost keeps you on edge as you wander the halls gathering data. Speaking into the spirit box may prompt a raspy whisper into your ear or the candle you just lit may be blown out moments after. More interestingly though, is the voice recognition AI that takes advantage of the communication players rely upon. Everything from saying you’re scared to a simple curse word can lead to the ghost favoring you as prey. Even players who stay in the van for too long get targeted by the ghost!

Within Phasmophobia is one of the most unique investigative experiences on the market and definitely a one of a kind multiplayer experience. The comfort of having a buddy to share your terrors with is stripped away when they stop responding to your radio! It’s truly unlike anything I’ve ever played and the developers are constantly updating it, two big thumbs up from the afterlife.

The satisfaction from my first time getting away with murder in Overboard! and the despair when I find out I had the ghost type completely wrong in Phasmophobia are some of my most memorable experiences in gaming! And Pentiment proved to be one of the most well written games I’ve had the pleasure of reading. I sincerely hope you check them out if you haven’t already! They’re all pretty cheap anyway. And once again begging for recommendations in the comments/reblogs so if you know any good, and hopefully weird, detective games let me know! Thanks in advance everyone and I’ll catch you on the flip side :P

-Ghost Emoji 👻

#organmart #om-ghostemoji #writing #video games #video game recommendations #detective games #return of the obra dinn #overboard!#overboard game #pentiment #phasmophobia

118 notes · View notes

resplendentoutfit · 3 months

Text

The Crinoline Skirt – A Victorian Fashion Trap

Andreas Hunæus (Danish, 1814 - 1886) • Princess Dagmar of Denmark with her dog • 1860s

A crinoline (/ˈkrɪn. əl. ɪn/) is a stiff or structured petticoat designed to hold out a skirt, popular at various times since the mid-19th century. Originally, crinoline described a stiff fabric made of horsehair ("crin") and cotton or linen which was used to make underskirts and as a dress lining. – Wikipedia

While the crinoline skirt was fashionable, it could also be very dangerous to wear. It is said that at least a few dozen women died in the mid-1800s because the widened skirts caught on things such as carriage wheels and machinery and also posed a fire hazard. A March 16, 1858 article from the New York Times described an incident where a woman's crinoline-widened skirts caught fire and she died. The same article discussed many such deaths occurring in London in the preceding months as well. The article went on to caution women about wearing such large skirts, because of the danger that they posed.

The crinoline hoop was pattened in April, 1856 by a Paris fashion designer.

Crinoline • 1860-1870 • MoMu - Fashion Museum Province of Antwerp • www.momu.be. Photo: Hugo Maertens, Bruges

There was much attention given to the crinoline by the media of its time, not only cautioning women about the dangers of this fashion contraption, but also ridiculing it through caricatures.

Sara Forbes Bonetta by Camille Silvy • 1862

Coloured stereocard depicting a woman being dressed in a crinoline, by an unknown photographer.

#the resplendent outfit #portrait #art #painting #royal portraits #fashion history #art history #dutch artist #crinoline skirt #victorian fashion #death trap fashion #women's fashion history #fashion heritage #19th century Paris fashion #caricature #colored stereocard photograph

42 notes · View notes

sugdenlovesdingle · 5 months

Text

Seven sentence Sunday Monday/inspiration weekend/whatever we're calling it these days

thanks for tagging me @carlos-in-glasses @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut

I'm a bit late to the party because my internet died last week and I only got it fixed today

Have a little snippet from an Owen and Gabriel drinking buddies scene from my "outdoor event" flufftober fic that I'm hoping to finish in the next few days.

---

"Have you ever been to one of these? With TK?" Gabriel asked, tapping the ad in the paper open on Owen's kitchen table.

"Been to what? A camping supplies store?" Owen joked, turning the paper around to see what Gabriel meant. "Oh, that. Yeah, a few times. Back in New York. Never here though. I didn't actually know there was one."

Gabriel nodded.

"Have the boys said anything... to you... about... going?"

"No, no I don't think so... although..." Owen trailed off, grabbing his phone and unlocking it and scrolling through his work diary. "TK did schedule time off work that weekend. So my guess is that they're going."

Gabriel nodded again.

"Are you... thinking of going too?" Owen asked. "Have you ever been?"

"No. When I was young... well... I don't think there was ever one where I grew up. And by the time I ended up in the big city... It's just never been on my radar."

"Not even when Carlos or your girls were growing up?"

Gabriel snorted and took a swig of his drink. Andrea would have his head if she knew he was day drinking with Owen and not at his PT appointment.

"You know the mess we made of things with Carlos. So no, I've never been. Not with Carlos, not by myself."

"But you're thinking of changing that?" Owen guessed.

"Well... it's definitely been on my mind more lately." Gabriel admitted. "But I'm not sure it's my place."

"Why not? Everyone is welcome at these things. That's kind of the whole point of them." Owen chuckled. "The first time Gwyn and I went with TK was when he was 15 or 16. I don't know which one of us was more nervous."

"What was it like?"

"Loud. Colourful. Lots of happy people. Everyone was in a party mood. We had fun. Even more so the second year when we actually marched. And a drag queen called me a DILF."

---

inspired by these pics i "stole" from Benito's insta a while back

I have no idea what went down in the fandom this weekend so if anyone feels like sharing some of their work, consider yourself tagged!

#tarlos #911 lone star #tarlos fic #seven sentence sunday #inspiration weekend

17 notes · View notes

lu-vin-it · 1 year

Text

1 | Letters From the Living

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

Series Masterlist

Summary: You’ve always loved journaling. It’s a hobby you keep even after the world turns upside down.

Pairings: Daryl Dixon x Reader, Reader x Brad

Pronouns Used: None

Word Count: 882

Warnings: Death, typical twd stuff

A/N: Ty @spnczr and @stqrluvr for proofreading ily guys sm!

Hey me! It is August 25th, 2010. I’m on my way to Georgia for Jenny’s birthday. Brad is with me, he says hi. He’s being a gentleman and driving me. He won’t play anything other than Limp Bizkit and it’s honestly annoying. Oh! Guess what? Since my last entry (a month ago, yikes), I am officially a fiancé! Brad proposed!!!!!! Awesome right? I’ve never been happier in my life. Seriously. My job is good, I’m ENGAGED(!!!!), my family is within a two hour drive… everything is going great. I’m so happy. Like so happy. Ugh. It’s sickening. Okay bye, we’re at waffle house.

It’s been two weeks. Everything has gone to shit. I don’t really know how else to explain it. People got sick and they started trying to eat other people. You can only kill the infected by targeting their brain. Half the population is probably dead by now. I barely escaped with Brad and Jenny. I’m terrified. I can’t sleep. Brad has been doing his best, he’s been carrying Dad’s gun around, trying to make sure Jen and I are okay. We found a group outside of Atlanta, it’s by a quarry. There’s a lot of people. I’ve been talking to a girl, Andrea, a lot. She’s sweet, cares about her sister, Amy, a bunch. Jen and Amy get along too. Funny right? Sisters with sisters.

Anyways, we’ve been camping for almost two weeks and I don’t know what to do. We can’t find Mom or Dad, so I’ve been taking care of Jen. She’s only fourteen. She had to watch someone be eaten alive. I’m mostly scared for her. I’m so worried. Hopefully the government will fix this soon.

It’s been a week since my last entry. I know, crazy. Before this I barely wrote in here at all. I guess I just don’t have much else to do. There isn’t really anything to tell you. The dead still walk. Brad’s still the same as ever. It’s freaking me out honestly. He hasn’t seemed at all concerned about any of this. Anywho, there’s a guy here, Shane, who’s taken leadership of the group. He used to be a sheriff's deputy, so I guess everyone kinda trusts him. I don’t. There’s something off about him. Got to go, time to sort through what Glenn brought back.

You’ll never believe what happened today. Rick Grimes came back to camp with Glenn, Andrea, Morales, Jaqui, and T-Dog. Rick Grimes is the husband of Lori Grimes and father to Carl Grimes, two people who’ve been living at the camp since the start!! He’s also that Shane guy’s best friend. Apparently he was shot on duty and has been in a coma. Somehow he made his way here. Pretty cool, right??? Shane seems even more off now that he’s here though. (He was totally fucking Lori. Even Jen says so.).

Also, Merle Dixon didn’t come back from the run. Fuckers left him handcuffed to the rooftop!!! Can you believe that???? Daryl (his brother) is going to have a field day when he gets back from hunting.

Brad is still normal. I love him. It’s crazy how he’s been so calm, but I appreciate it. He’s my rock.

I have never been more depressed in my life. Brad died. He was bitten trying to save me from a geek. I killed the geek and I held him until I was dragged away by Jenny. I think someone shot him after I Iaid down. God. Someone shot him after I laid down. Wow. Sorry if the ink is smudged. I’m really trying not to cry. It’s late. I don’t want to wake anyone up. I want him. I need him back. I don’t think I can do this without him. He was my life. He’s all I’ve known for the past eight years. I still remember when I met him. First day of senior year, and he was the new kid from New York. Everyone wanted to talk to him. But he talked to me. Plain old me. I don’t think there’s been a day since where I haven’t been with him. How do I do this?

We found shelter. We went to Atlanta to the CDC. There’s only one man left, Dr. Brenner. He’s nice. He fed us, let us shower (HOT WATER!!!!), and he’s going to let us stay here as long as we want. Jenny’s super excited. She’s been hanging out with Sophia and Carl, the twelve year olds. I forgot to mention last time that it wasn’t just Brad who died. Most of the camp did. I’m going to start a list of who’s still living, okay? It’ll be at the end of my entries.

Anyways, Amy also died. I haven’t gotten the chance to talk to Andrea but I don’t think she’s doing so well. I know we’re dealing with the losses differently, she’s not talked to anyone and she wants to be alone. I think I’m the complete opposite. I feel awful. I wish I knew what to say to comfort her. Jenny has been kinda lonely, but Sophia asked about her necklace (it’s the locket I gave her for her 13th birthday. It still has the picture of us in it :)) and they’ve been fast friends since. I’ve been talking to Carol a bunch too. She’s Sophia’s Mom. She lost her husband the night Brad died too. She’s very sweet.

Carol, Andrea, Dale, Jaqui, Rick, Lori, Carl, T-Dog, Glenn, Daryl, Sophia and Jenny. (Morales and his family are all alive, but they left to try and find the rest of their family)

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

#daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon series #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead fic #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #daryl dixon x plus size reader

50 notes · View notes

diceriadelluntore · 2 months

Text

Un bicchiere di vino con un panino....

In una mia riposta ad un post molto bello di @cinismoerancore avevo scritto che se mi fosse piaciuto il finale del libro che stavo leggendo ne avrei scritto, perché si legava ad un tema che il post tendeva a sottolineare (anche @biggestluca mi ha chiesto che libro fosse).

Voglio subito dire due cose: Felicità© di Will Ferguson, scritto per la prima volta nel 2001, uscito per Feltrinelli qualche anno dopo e riproposto, con nuova traduzione di Andrea Bezzi, che curò anche la prima stampa, da Accento, è un libro da leggere. Per due terzi meraviglioso, sul finale si poteva fare di più. Vi dico subito l'altra cosa che non mi è piaciuta, la copertina:

Quella di Accento non ha nessun riferimento al libro, mentre invece la prima di Feltrinelli si

(per chi è curioso lo spiego in privato).

Restano da dirvi due cose: il libro è la storia di Edwin De Valu, junior editor alla Panderic Inc., casa editrice di New York il cui più grande successo sono i Manuali di Mr Etica, bizzarro personaggio che voleva insegnare fondamenti filosofici per vivere meglio, ma va in carcere per aver ucciso e sotterrato in giardino gli ispettori del Fisco che erano andati a fargli visita. Edwin è specializzato in manuali di autoaiuto, alla Panderic quando arrivano manoscritti del genere vengono messi ad attendere in uno spazio, la montagna di fuffa, sopra la quale campeggia la lavagna con la collezione delle più improbabili espressioni trovate alla prima, unica e superficiale lettura. I libri si accumulano, ma un giorno arriva a Edwin un manoscritto di oltre mille pagine, con appunti a penna e stantii adesivi di margherite. Ha un titolo, Quello che ho imparato sulla montagna, e un autore, Tupak Soiree, che ad Edwin puzzano di broglio da chilometri. Il libro fa la fine di tutti gli altri. Solo che stavolta il suo capo, il Signor Mead, nell'attesa di pubblicare il manuale definitivo sul perdere peso mangiando porco fritto, vuole un titolo che rimpiazzi quelli di Mr Etica. Edwin spavaldamente dice di averne uno straordinario, solo che ritornando nel suo cubicolo ufficio non trova più il libro con le margheritine. Inizia qui il primo viaggio: alla ricerca fisica del manoscritto. Che nel modo più assurdo possibile verrà pubblicato. E nel modo più assurdo funzionerà, regalando ai suoi milioni di lettori la felicità. Ma qui viene il bello (che ovviamente non vi svelo): che conseguenze ha sul mondo il fatto che la gente, di punto in bianco, si senta felice?

In uno stile ironico, lineare e a certi tratti sottilmente drammatico (poichè dietro certi passaggi da ridere ci sono riflessioni profondissime), Ferguson lega il mondo della comunicazione con quello della costruzione sociale di ciò che siamo: lo scrisse nel 2000, quindi lontano da quello che siamo adesso dove l'aspetto è totalmente più pervasivo, ma ci sono già dei pilastri del sistema ben chiari. Non è solo ironia sul ruolo dell'autoaiuto, che oggi si è spostato dai manuali al webinar o alle pagine dei social network, non è solo la capacità di dare l'impressione che siamo in grado di prevedere gli eventi (frase cult: "il marketing? come capacità predittive delle tendenze siamo una tacca sotto al controllo delle viscere degli animali), ma anche l'accento, tra il serio e il faceto, su tutte le attività che sappiamo chiaramente distruttive (spesso per noi, spesso anche per gli altri) ma che sono fondamentali per la vita economica, sociale e persino culturale del mondo, tanto che il povero Edwin si troverà a fronteggiare una parte di questa porzione di mondo rimasta tagliata fuori dall'esplosione della felicità, venendo a mancare questo assunto:"tutta la nostra esistenza si fonda sul dubbio e l'insoddisfazione. Pensa che cosa succederebbe se tutti fossero veramente, autenticamente, felici" (pag. 230).

Si può fare critica sociale ridendoci su? La domanda sembra quasi inopportuna: però ci sono state delle pagine, quando all'inizio il cambiamento si diffonde come un virus alternativo, che mi hanno fatto pensare davvero tanto. Perchè è lampante come certi meccanismi ormai non siano nemmeno più sottotraccia, tipo passare dall'idolatria al dileggio in pochi giorni o scoprire alla prova dei fatti che le ricchezze basate sul nulla producono soldi veri per pochissimi e fregature per tantissimi, oppure indirizzare l'attenzione a specifiche categorie sociali, incapaci o a cui non è più permesso un coinvolgimento intellettuale a ciò che sta intorno loro, e che sia evidente che questi meccanismi siano ormai irrefrenabili, se non cambiando radicalmente il sistema, tanto che segnalarne le storture è presa come una questione di invidia.

Edwin De Valu , lo dice in un passo delizioso quando il Signor Mead gli chiede di lavorare su <<un manuale di autoaiuto per donne sovrappeso che spieghi come fare a mangiare maiale e perdere peso. sarà una nuova teoria. Possiamo chiamarla "il paradosso del porco">> (pag. 150), si è laureato in letteratura comparata con tesi su Proust, da una prospettiva postmoderna. Lui è l'autore di una delle più grandi immagini della felicità, che come rassicurazione suppongo sia ancora presente nell'animo di molti di noi:

Mi portai alle labbra un cucchiaino del tè nel quale avevo lasciato che s’ammorbidisse un pezzetto di madeleine. Ma nello stesso istante in cui il liquido al quale erano mischiate le briciole del dolce raggiunse il mio palato, io trasalii, attratto da qualcosa di straordinario che accadeva dentro di me. Una deliziosa voluttà mi aveva invaso, isolata, staccata da qualsiasi nozione della sua casa. Di colpo mi aveva reso indifferenti le vicissitudini della vita, inoffensivi i suoi disastri, illusoria la sua brevità, agendo nello stesso modo dell’amore, colmandomi di un’essenza preziosa: o meglio, quell’essenza non era dentro di me, io ero quell’essenza. Avevo smesso di sentirmi mediocre, contingente mortale. Da dove era potuta giungermi una gioia così potente? Sentivo che era legata al sapore del tè e del dolce, ma lo superava infinitamente, non doveva condividerne la natura. Da dove veniva? Cosa significava? Dove afferrarla? Bevo una seconda sorsata nella quale non trovo di più che nella prima, una terza che mi dà un po’ meno della seconda.

12 notes · View notes

alexzalben · 1 year

Text

KEVIN CONROY, PREEMINENT VOICE OF BATMAN, PASSES AWAY AT AGE 66

NEW YORK, NY (November 11, 2022) - Actor Kevin Conroy, the most beloved voice of Batman in the animated history of the character, died Thursday at age 66 after a short battle with cancer.

A noted stage, film and television performer, Conroy rose to unparalleled voice acting fame as the title character of the landmark Batman: The Animated Series (1992-1996). He would establish never-to-be-broken records as the quintessential voice of Batman, bringing the super hero to animated life in nearly 60 different productions, including 15 films – highlighted by the acclaimed Batman: Mask of the Phantasm; 15 animated series, spanning nearly 400 episodes and more than 100 hours of television; as well as two dozen video games. Conroy was also featured as a live-action Bruce Wayne in the Arrowverse’s 2019-2020 “Crisis on Infinite Earths” crossover event.

In recent years, Conroy was a notable fixture on the Con circuit, greeting fans with the same warmth, respect and enthusiasm they reserved for him.

“Kevin was far more than an actor whom I had the pleasure of casting and directing – he was a dear friend for 30+ years whose kindness and generous spirit knew no boundaries,” said Emmy Award winning casting/dialogue director Andrea Romano. “Kevin’s warm heart, delightfully deep laugh and pure love of life will be with me forever.”

“Kevin was perfection,” recalled Mark Hamill, who redefined the Joker playing opposite Conroy’s Batman. “He was one of my favorite people on the planet, and I loved him like a brother. He truly cared for the people around him – his decency shone through everything he did. Every time I saw him or spoke with him, my spirits were elevated.”

Born on November 30, 1955 in Westbury, New York, and raised in Westport, CT, Conroy began establishing himself in the acting community while under the tutelage of John Houseman at The Julliard School – where he studied alongside the likes of Christopher Reeve, Frances Conroy, and his roommate Robin Williams.

Conroy began his career following his love of the theatre, keeping him on stage in both New York and at the Old Globe Theatre in San Diego. The actor received rave reviews for his starring performances in A Midsummer Night’s Dream at the Public Theater, Eastern Standard on Broadway, Arthur Miller’s The Last Yankee, and in the title role of Hamlet at the 1984 New York Shakespeare Festival. In addition, he performed in films and television – most notably in the mid-1980s when he had recurring roles on Dynasty, Tour of Duty and Ohara; successful runs on soap operas Search for Tomorrow and Another World; and guest roles on popular series like Cheers, Murphy Brown, Spenser: For Hire and Matlock.

But it was his incomparable, nuanced performance as the voice of Batman that put Conroy on the map – and the fans’ radar – when Batman: The Animated Series debuted on September 5, 1992. From that point on, Conroy would forever be linked to the Dark Knight – in TV series like Batman Beyond and Justice League/Justice League Unlimited; films ranging from Batman: the Killing Joke and Batman: Gotham Knight to Batman & Mr. Freeze: SubZero and Batman: Mystery of the Batwoman; and more than two dozen video games.

“Kevin was a brilliant actor,” Hamill said. “For several generations, he has been the definitive Batman. It was one of those perfect scenarios where they got the exact right guy for the exact right part, and the world was better for it. His rhythms and subtleties, tones and delivery – that all also helped inform my performance. He was the ideal partner – it was such a complementary, creative experience. I couldn’t have done it without him. He will always be my Batman.”

“Kevin brought a light with him everywhere,” said Paul Dini, producer of Batman: The Animated Series, “whether in the recording booth giving it his all, or feeding first responders during 9/11, or making sure every fan who ever waited for him had a moment with their Batman. A hero in every sense of the word. Irreplaceable. Eternal.”

Conroy is survived by his husband Vaughn C. Williams, sister Trisha Conroy, and brother Tom Conroy. Memorial services are pending.

#kevin conroy #batman

90 notes · View notes

vintage1981 · 1 year

Video

youtube

Tribute to Kevin Conroy | The Voice of BATMAN | In Memoriam

Kevin Conroy (November 30, 1955 – November 10, 2022) was an American actor. He was best known as the voice behind the DC Comics superhero Batman in various media, beginning with the 1990s Batman: The Animated Series and its subsequent spin-off TV series and feature films in the DC Animated Universe.

Due to the popularity of his performance as Batman, Conroy went on to voice the character for multiple films under the DC Universe Animated Original Movies banner and the critically acclaimed Batman: Arkham and Injustice video games.

After years of theatre, Conroy started his television career in the 1985 TV movie Covenant and had a role on another daytime soap drama, Search for Tomorrow. Conroy played gay lawyer Bart Fallmont on Dynasty from 1985 to 1986. He was a series regular on Ohara in 1987, and as the company commander on Tour of Duty from 1987 to 1988, before starring in a series of television movies. Though initially cast as one of the show's main characters, his role on the show was reduced while it filmed in Hawaii and he ended up spending much of his time doing portraits of tourists on the Honolulu boardwalk. Conroy also guest starred on shows such as Cheers, Matlock, and Murphy Brown.

As a voice actor, Conroy is best known for his starring role as Bruce Wayne/Batman in the acclaimed Batman: The Animated Series (1992–1995). He continued to voice Batman in numerous animated spin off projects, which collectively took place in what is known as the DC Animated Universe (DCAU). These spin-offs include the TV shows The New Batman Adventures (1997–1999), Batman Beyond (1999–2001, in which he portrays an elderly Bruce Wayne retired from crimefighting), Justice League (2001–2004), and Justice League Unlimited (2004–2006), as well as the theatrical film Batman: Mask of the Phantasm (1993), and the direct-to-video films Batman & Mr. Freeze: SubZero (1998), Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker (2000), and Batman: Mystery of the Batwoman (2003). He also voiced Batman for the character's guest appearances in the DCAU's Superman: The Animated Series, Static Shock and The Zeta Project.

Conroy was gay. As part of DC Comics' 2022 Pride anthology, Conroy wrote "Finding Batman", a story that recounted his life and experiences as a gay man. It received critical acclaim upon release. He was married to Vaughn C. Williams at the time of his death.

Conroy died at Mount Sinai Hospital in New York City from intestinal cancer on November 10, 2022, at the age of 66.

People who paid tribute to him included Mark Hamill, Tara Strong, Andrea Romano, Clancy Brown, Paul Dini and James Gunn.

#youtube #Kevin Conroy #Batman #Batman: The Animated Series #Mark Hamill #Tara Strong #Andrea Romano #Clancy Brown #Paul Dini #James Gunn #The New Batman Adventures #Batman Beyond #Justice League

119 notes · View notes

englishstrawbie · 1 year

Note

“I'm a problem solver / 'Cause I always used to be a problem” (Since I Was a Kid by Lennon Stella)

My last prompt fill! I had a lot of angsty prompts for Maya and Carina, and while this one still led to a difficult situation for Carina, I very much wanted it to be them vs. an external problem. Perhaps my interpretation of the lyrics is creative, but I hope you like what I did with it.

A link to the song

>>>>>>>>>>

Carina is quiet throughout dinner, not that either of them could get a word in even if they tried. Vincenzo DeLuca dominates the conversation, talking about his latest project: this time researching chromosomal abnormalities that lead to birth defects and miscarriage.

“Maybe it’s his way of trying to bond with you,” Maya suggests when they are out of ear shot.

Carina knows better.

Everything her father has ever done is because he likes the spotlight. He is always coming up with ideas that sound miraculous on paper but, in reality, push the boundaries too far. She has seen it give patients false hope, sometimes even putting their lives at risk as he makes unrealistic promises about what he can deliver.

He talks about fixing chromosomal abnormalities in the embryo through surgical intervention – an impossible feat, but one he believes he can achieve.

“Your friend, uh Doctor Robbins, she’s been doing incredible things in New York. It’s a shame you two lost contact.”

Maya raises her eyebrows at the mention of Carina’s ex-girlfriend, but doesn’t take offence at his words, smiling to herself when she feels Carina reach out under the table to squeeze her hand.

Carina is watching for signs of mania, but while he is animated in his stories, he remains calm throughout the evening. He is cheerful and chatty, but never lets the conversation become personal. He doesn’t ask about Carina’s work or the clinic she played a part in opening at the fire station. He asks Maya a few questions about being a firefighter, interested in risks of prolonged smoke exposure on her lungs. He mentions Sicily a couple of times, but not family, and eventually Carina addresses the one subject he seems to be so determined to avoid.

“Papa, do you want to visit the spot where I scatted Andrea’s ashes while you’re here?”

She holds her breath as she waits for his answer, her heart sinking when he scoffs at her suggestion.

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Because you didn’t come when I scattered some in San Lorenzo. I thought you might want to say goodbye to him here, so that we could remember him together,” Carina says, her voice shaking as she speaks.

“What is the point of dredging up the past, Carina?” Vincenzo says dismissively, although he cannot hide the pain in his eyes at the mention of his son.

“It’s not the past, Papa!” Carina says. “The grief I feel is just as present today as it was when he died. I know you feel that too.”

“You don’t know what I feel.”

“No, I don’t, because you never talk about it,” Carina says. “You never talk about him.”

“Don’t push me, ragazza mia,” Vincenzo says.

“Papa…”

“Basta!”

He raises his voice, slamming his glass on the table so roughly that the stem breaks, small shards of glass flying onto his plate. Red wine spills from the goblet, staining the pale cloth that covers the table.

Maya winces, as Carina recoils at his aggression. Vincenzo grabs his napkin and starts dabbing at the droplets of wine on his cream pants, muttering under his breath. Maya stands up and fetches the trashcan to collect the pieces of glass that are scattered across the table.

“I’m sorry,” Carina says meekly.

“No,” Maya interjects. “You’re not the one who should be apologising.”

“Maya please,” Carina tries to stop her, but Maya won’t back down.

“I know that it’s hard for you to talk about Andrew,” she says to Vincenzo, holding his attention with a hard glare. “It’s not easy for any of us, especially Carina. But in this house, we don’t react to our anger like that and we don’t break things out of frustration.”

There is something about the way she asserts herself that persuades Vincenzo not to argue back. Instead, he lifts his hands in conciliation.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I think it’s time that I left.”

“You don’t have to leave,” Maya says, more gently this time. “Please, stay for coffee.”

Vincenzo shakes his head. “Carina, perhaps you and I can have lunch tomorrow. Maybe you can even give me the phone number for Doctor Robbins?”

And there he is, back to business. Carina nods numbly and walks him to the door, accepting a polite kiss on her cheek before he disappears down the hallway. She closes the door and falls against it, her head resting on the cool, hard wood as she lets out a heavy sigh.

Maya comes up behind her, her hands sliding around her waist and her chin resting on Carina’s shoulder. She doesn’t ask if Carina is okay because she already knows the answer.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

Carina shakes her head. “I’m sorry if he triggered you.”

“I wasn’t worried about me,” Maya says. “I just don’t want you to ever feel like I did when I was a kid.”

“I know,” Carina says, turning in Maya’s grasp and curling her hands around her neck, her fingers running through her blonde hair. “He’s not like that.”

Maya opens her mouth to object, but Carina shuts her down.

“He’s not,” she insists. “He’s just…”

“Emotional? Yeah, I used to say that about my dad too, remember?” Maya says. “Look, I’m not trying to project my issues with my dad onto you and yours. But I will always stand up for you when he crosses a line – and tonight he did.”

“I know, bambina,” Carina says, her forehead coming to rest against Maya’s. “Thank you.”

She feels calmer in Maya’s arms.

“Come on,” Maya says, tugging her back into the apartment. “Let’s clean up and get to bed. And if you want, at the weekend we can go to Hamilton Viewpoint together to remember Andrew?”

Carina smiles as she pushes aside her disappointment in her father, yet again, and instead chooses to focus on the good in her life, following her wife into the kitchen.

#station 19 #maya bishop #carina deluca #station 19 fanfiction #my fanfiction #february lyric prompt challenge

27 notes · View notes

mirandapriestlyswife · 9 days

Text

Mirandy fanfic- Apocalypse Au; Chapter 4

Hi everyone! Sorry this took so long Ive been busy :) this is mostly just fluffy filler, im hoping to make the next few chapters more angsty. Enjoy!

Prologue- https://www.tumblr.com/mirandapriestlyswife/747204446805704704/mirandy-fanfic-apocalypse-au-prologue

Chapter 1 https://www.tumblr.com/mirandapriestlyswife/747303362291286016/mirandy-apocalypse-fic-chapter-1

Chapter 2 https://www.tumblr.com/mirandapriestlyswife/747419492186996736/mirandy-fanfic-apocalypse-au-chapter-2

Chapter 3 https://www.tumblr.com/mirandapriestlyswife/747593307288403968/mirandy-fanfic-apocalypse-au-chapter-3

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────

Waking up with your old bosses head snuggled tight in the crook of your neck is a nice feeling, but an odd one at that. It’s what Andy has been dealing with the last 6 weeks. After that first night Miranda was quick to move all of her things to the studio apartment she resided in. The floor was practically shaking under the pressure of the dozens of suitcases Miranda had brought with her. Eventually, as she assumed, Miranda got sick of the pull out couch. Its what she expected. What she didn’t expect was for Miranda to insist they inhabit a place that required less stairs to climb.

“Maybe a nice first floor hotel room?” Andy suggested

“No room on the first floor is nice.”

“Maybe we could go to queens? See if theres any abandoned places there?”

Miranda snorted, “Queens.. Be serious, Andrea.”

“Maybe we could take a trip like I suggested?”

“No.”

“Alright..”

Miranda let out a deep sigh and a grunt, “Maybe.”

Maybe was good enough for Andy!

Over the weeks they had finally decided on a beautiful brownstone, probably abandoned by some rich upper class losers who had ditched the city to go hide in one of those bunkers upstate.. At least thats what shes assuming since Miranda made her look through every room, under every duvet cover, in every bathtub, for any corpses but none were to be found. It took the two of them what felt like hours to haul Mirandas suitcases inside (with Andy doing most of the work).

Now the two sat, with Miranda sitting at the kitchen island reading some old magazine as Andy prepared “lunch” (a combination of canned green beans, spam, and canned corn), she didn’t bother telling Miranda its spam so she’d actually eat.

“Whatcha reading?”

“Runway.”

“Really? I never would’ve guessed.” She smiled and slid Miranda her plate which Miranda looked at with only mild disgust rather than her usual “oh my God I used to have a private chef, now look at me” face. She sat down next to the editor and took a bite of the salty green beans. It was weird, having this almost domestic relationship with Miranda of all people.. I mean- they slept in the same bed for Gods sake. Andy couldn’t tell what she felt for the older woman anymore, something between love and slight fear, alike before the outbreak, but maybe with a bit less fear after sleeping in the same bed as her for nearly a month. They haven’t spotted another living person in all of New York City, it felt as Miranda said, “A waste of time” to keep looking.

“Sooo.. Anything new in Runway?”

Miranda let out a displeased grunt.

“Can you at least eat?“

Miranda visibly rolled her eyes and shut her magazine before poking at the meal.

“You slept in late today.” The editor noted aloud.

“Yeah.. Guess I was tired-“

“I was worried you died.”

Andy snorted and took a bite of her spam when she saw Miranda staring at her with her piercing blue eyes, somehow scarier in the afternoon light. “Im serious.”

Andy paused, unsure how to act. “Mira- what-?? Im not gonna just die on you!” She awkwardly sputtered out.

“Well.. Good.” The editor stared at the other woman’s facial features for a minute before turning back to her plate and continuing to poke at the food.

“Can you actually eat something? Im tired of watching you poke at your food like some snooty house cat.” She watched closely as Miranda rolled her eyes and finally took a bite of the corn with a displeased look.

“Good?”

“Its fine.”

Andy chuckled, “Thanks.. I worked all day on it.” Miranda was not amused by her attempt at humor.

The two ate in silence until Andy spoke up. “I think im gonna head out today.. Look for some more food or something.. You want anything special?” The editor rolled her eyes

“A ribeye would be lovely.”

“Sure ill add it to the list next to the lobster dinner.”

Miranda grumbled and took a bite of meat which she visibly cringed at. She sighed woefully as they ate in silence.

“I like your shoes.”

“They’re last seasons.”

“Im sure no one will notice.”

Miranda smiled. Andy found it rewarding to see the editor smile. It felt as if she was playing a constant game of try not to laugh and she was always losing, but sometimes she had a small victory.

“We should go to MoMa soon.” Miranda suggested as she pushed her half eaten food away and stood up.

“We could go today?”

“I thought you would be searching for more cans of vomit to serve us.”

Andy frowned, “Hey! Its good. You’re just too privileged to appreciate the effort that goes into-“

“Into opening a can?” Miranda smirked, she always got that smug look of satisfaction when she was right, it made Andys heart flutter.

“I don’t just ‘open a can’, I have to go search for things I’ll hope you’ll eat, touch dusty crates in the back of bodegas, its gross.” Miranda simply scoffed and turned on her heels, setting the magazine she had been reading on the slightly dusty table that displayed photos of the twins Miranda had taken with her along with two urns.

Andy never asked about the twins. She was sure Miranda didn’t want to talk about them. She sighed and scratched at her arm awkwardly as she leaned on the kitchen island.

“Well. If you must.. Scavenge, then go ahead. But I would like you back before dark.”

One thing new shed learned about Miranda Priestly was that the woman was absolutely petrified of the dark. Whenever the two went to bed the room had to be illuminated by battery powered candles just for the editor to sleep through the night. Andy might’ve found it endearing if it didn’t always put a time limit on all of her out of the house activities. She had to be home at 5:00 due to the shortened December days. Oh how she missed summer.

“Yeah. I’ll be back before dark.” She walked over to Miranda and grabbed a few of the massive grocery bags stored under the table. “Any requests before I head out?”

“Fruit. But get water with it. I dont like the sugary concoction that slathers the stuff.”

“Canned fruit, got it.” Andy sighed and to her own surprise leaned over and gave Miranda a kiss on the cheek goodbye.

Miranda froze, not looking displeased but a bit surprised as did Andy. She smiled and awkwardly said, “I’ll be back in two hours tops, okay?”

Miranda made a noise of approval and as Andrea was leaving the older woman piped up.

“Andrea?”

“Hm?” She turned on her heels to face Miranda.

“Be safe. I love you.”

Andy stared at Miranda in disbelief, “..I love you too.” She finally sputtered, the editor smiled and nodded before turning down the hall, most likely to go nap.

Andy was shocked, Miranda loved her?? Miranda Priestly loved her?! Maybe she was looking too much into it.. She might mean it as platonic love.. But still, the words made Andys heart skip a beat.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────

I hope you enjoyed! Again, sorry for the wait

15 notes · View notes