#HE TOLD THEM OPrah

[seriesxwriting]

Soulmates

W Klaus Mikaelson <3

Warnings- swearing, flighting, kissing.

Series- the vampire diaries/ the originals

Summary- After being prisoner to mikael for a century your finally free and can find your soulmate again… once you’ve sorted out a few issues about why you left in the first place. Presuming the Mikealson’s don’t kill you first.

Recreating a post I deleted from when I first started writing<3

I’d just arrived in New Orleans. It had been a long ass time since I’d been here. It had been a century. I was here for only one reason. Id been dwelling on if it was a good idea or not for a while. It wasn’t, I’d probably lose my head as soon as I got into town. But I grew some balls and followed my heart. And that lead me to New Orleans.

I stepped off the train and just looked around for a second breathing in a deep breath of New Orleans air. I remember how this place looked since I was last here. It hadn’t changed much apart from the vending machines and new benches made of metal now.

Working up the courage, I left the train station and went into the square which wasn’t a long walk. It was kind of refreshing. Being back was scary almost but it was home, I knew I was risking a lot coming here but I had to. For myself, for him. I walked down to my favourite bar, I needed to be a little intoxicated before I faced him. Rousseau’s.

There it stood, proudly if anything. I’d missed this place. That feeling was very short lived as a hand tightened around my throat dragging me into an alley next to the bar. I struggled against them but could only use vampirism after I was out of sight from the humans. I elbowed the man but he managed to push me against the wall.

I looked up to see who it was and the colour left my face. “So it really is you” he scoffed shaking his head. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t removed your head and give it to him in a box?”. Elijah Mikaelson. Always a pleasure. “Get off me!” I hissed as the tears started forming in my eyes. He had never been hostile to me before. I’d only seen it when he was fighting his families enemies. Now I was an enemy of the Mikaelsons.

He threw me against the wall again after letting go of my neck. “I came to explain not fight” I scoffed rubbing my neck from the throbbing pain. “You shouldn’t have come here if you didn’t expect a fight” he mocked shaking his head. “I assumed it would be on the table” “why are you here? After what you did?” Elijah asked squinting his eyes at me.

“I didn’t do anything!” I hissed trying to contain my tears. “Will you hear me out or not?”. Elijah looked like he was debating it. “Fine I will hear you out but I can’t promise I won’t pull your heart out mid conversation” “I’m not a fool Elijah- I know you don’t trust me I know you don’t want to see me- he won’t want to either but I owe it to myself to explain what happened” I told him pushing off the wall now.

“Let’s have a drink shall we, be civil about this?”. He looked like he was holding back a laugh but he nodded his head once and then followed me into the bar. We took one of the back booths so we could talk without being heard or seen. “You look different” he told me sitting across from me. “You look worn out, skinnier” “where do you want me to start?” I asked swallowing, feeling even more intimidated now it was really happening.

“Start from the fire” he told me bluntly keeping his eyes on me. “1919, we were in the Oprah house” I began thinking back to that terrible night. “Klaus had gone to get our seats while I went to the bathroom, when I exited I saw a face that still horrifies me to this day” “mikael” Elijah exhaled as he began to realised there was much more to the story. “I ran to get away from him but he caught me quickly over powering me”.

“He told me all these things- everything he was planning on doing to klaus, I struggled but he was too strong” I shook my head as the tears started forming again. “He compelled me- to leave with him- compelled me to say what I said to Klaus- I told him I was done I was leaving and that i couldn’t stand the sight of him- those words rang in my head for years” I sniffed as the first tear fell down. “After that mikael snapped my neck and left me in the trunk of some car” I explained.

“He did what he did in New Orleans- and kept me prisoner for years on end, he thought he could use me to help find Klaus as I knew him so well- I refused and that’s when his violence appeared”. Elijah looked horrified. That was the only word to describe his face. He reached over to my hand and nodded sympathetically. “You can compel me if you don’t believe me” I made very clear.

Elijah shook his head vigorously “I believe you’ve had enough compelling to last you for a lifetime” he told me rubbing my hand gently. “I believe you y/n” “thank you Elijah, truly” i gasp nodding my head agreeing I’d had enough. “I’ve heard enough about mikael- how’d you escape”.

“He didn’t come back to where he left me for a while- I had the chance to escape with him gone, but I don’t know where he is- he must be looking for me” I shook my head not wanting to think about it. “He’s not” Elijah squeezed my hand as he plunged in abruptly. “He’s dead y/n, Klaus killed him”. I sat back in the chair as my eye brows knitted together.

A weight off my shoulder literally lifted off me and I felt as if i could breath again. The tears leaked out my eyes without permission as I laughed from happiness. Elijah moved round to my side and embraced me. It was nice having him back, he was always so caring towards me. I’d truly missed him. “It’s over y/n- you done it, your home- and I am so! So sorry that my father put you through that, that he turned us against you”.

“You weren’t to know” I shook my head not wanting an apology from him. “What happened? When I left- Klaus- what happened?” “He um…” Elijah started before his eyes drifted to the table. “He hasn’t been okay since” Elijah shook his head vigorously. He must have been thinking of the events because I practically saw them flashing in his eyes.

“I didn’t think he ever would be again” he smiled before looking at me. “But you both will- I assume that’s why your here” “I’m here to explain- I understand it’s been a long time- I don’t expect him to feel the same way about me now” “do you want to see him? I’ll take you to him- help you smooth things over” “yes please” I nodded feeling my heart patting against my chest. “I’d like that very much”.

“Let’s go” Elijah nodded with a smile getting up from the table. I was afraid to face Klaus. I knew what his temper was like, once upon a time I was the only one who could control it. Though I didn’t think now would be one of those times. Elijah walked me over to the house. I stopped at the threshold taking a deep breath. “It’s going to be fine” he whispered comforting me. But that was when I heard his voice.

“Brother! Bout time you were back we have business to discuss” klaus called out as we walked into the house. His back was turned to us and he was pouring two bourbons. “Yes brother, we do indeed” Elijah told him forwardly. “We have much to discuss”. With that Klaus turned around. His smirk dropped off his face as he locked eyes with me. How the hell do I feel right now? I didn’t know myself.

He clearly didn’t. It took a few seconds but his face hardened just as I remembered, just as I’d imagined it to do. “You were foolish to step into this house” he told me seriously. “Thank you for delivering her to me brother but I have no intention of looking at her for more than two seconds, your welcome to let her out” klaus crushed a glass in his hand. The glass scattered everywhere.

“I thought- you’d want me dead for sure” I told him in a wavy voice. “I want you dead believe me, I just don’t want to watch it” he frowned as his jaw locked together watching his cuts heal up. “Brother, I haven’t delivered y/n to you to inflict any sort of harm” Elijah stated making Klaus look at him with the hard look now. “Explain yourself now Elijah” his hand flew out and I saw his eyes getting watery. “You should sit down and let y/n explain herself” he nodded taking a step forward.

I guess he knew Klaus was about to attack him as that’s exactly what happened. Klaus vamp ran towards him knocking Elijah off his feet. Klaus turned to me, his eyes orange now. That was new. “Get out, before I change my mind” he told me without a wave of anything but anger. “Klaus please- that night didn’t go down how you think it went down” I told him with tears in my own eyes now.

“Don’t think you can lie your way out of this one” he scoffed, the veins seemed to run further down his eyes onto his cheeks as his teeth came out. He had another set now, that was new too. “Klaus, she’s not lying- she was compelled” Elijah explained as he stood back up fixing his suit. “Oh really and by who exac-.” Klaus trailed off as a moment of realisation hit him. “No” he shook his head as his eyes went back to normal and he took a step back.

He looked me up and down before shaking his head and walking off toward the bourbon again with his hand pointing out. “I will not hear these lies!” “I’m not lying- I’ve never lied to you” I told him confidently, it was working he was realising. “If so, why didn’t you come back? Why didn’t you look for me?” Klaus asked me with a frown. “Because you had no interest in it!”.

“I came as soon as I escaped from mikael- well- a week after- I was debating whether i should come or not, I wasn’t sure if you’d hear me out”. Klaus’s face dropped. “What do you mean… escaped from Mikel” he asked me walking slowly towards me. “He- he kept me prisoner, he wanted my help to find you” “he- no I would have known- I- no” klaus shook his head but I knew he was just in denial about it now.

I slid my hand up to his face. “Klaus, I never would have left you” I told him when his eyes landed on me. “You don’t have to believe me- I didn’t come and see you to make things go back to how they were I just- i couldn’t live with you thinking I hated you” I told him softly holding eye contact with me. I slowly took my hand away but he caught it holding it bringing it back up.

“He- hurt you?” “It’s over now Klaus I’m free” I shook my head not wanting to give any details. “He hurt you?” Klaus asked me again in a much more authoritative tone. I nodded losing eye contact with him drifting to the floor. Klaus moved forward wrapping his arms around me tighter than I’d ever felt a hug. He didn’t want to let go and I was okay with that.

“You two- you should talk, clear everything up” Elijah told us with a smile on his face. “It’s good to see you again y/n” he nodded before wondering out of the door. “Elijah!” I called out before he got too far. He turned innocently looking at me under his brothers arm. “Thank you- seriously thank you” I nodded with sad eyes. “Who am I to keep soulmates apart” he chuckled as he walked off backwards.

Klaus didn’t say anything more to me just led me to the sofa and looked at me. He scanned me for a minute or two. “Klaus- it’s me” “I know” he nodded still looking at me. “I’m savouring it” he answered a few seconds after. He was holding my hand and hadn’t let go since we sat down. “What do you want to know?” “Nothing gorgeous- I believe you, Mikael is a bastard always has been, I presume Elijah told you he’s dead”.

I nodded frantically. “I’m free” I smiled again as it really sank in the the nightmare was over. A hundred years later. “I’m tempted to bring him back so I can kill him again for the years he kept us apart”. “I’m glad you came- I’m glad you chose to come” he told me fiddling with my fingers. “So am I- I don’t- expect anything from you Klaus not for you to take me in, take me back, nothing, I have peace knowing you know the truth”.

“Y/n, You are the queen of New Orleans and you are never leaving my side again” klaus told me putting his hand on my cheek. “Does that mea- mean you’ll have me back?” “Your my always and forever” he chuckled kissing my hand softly. “I should have knew something was off- I should have looked for you” he tutted, I spotted a tear falling down his face. “No don’t do that” I warned him.

“Don’t not make this your fault- you were hurt and you had every right to be” “y/n I know you better than anyone- I should have known something was wrong” he clutched my hand to his chest. “Can we- stop talking about it please- we can tomorrow just…” “…it’s done- I just want to make up for lost time, my love” he brushed my cheek with my thumb.

“Then there’s no better way” I smiled as I moved my head towards his attaching his lips to mine. Klaus didn’t hesitate for a semi second. He was right there with me, we’re truly were soulmates. We moved like we were made for each other because we were. “Now, nothing can take you away from me” he whispered holding me close.

“I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that” I smiled putting my head in between his shoulders and neck. Klaus kissed my head gently. Heaven.

For more like this

Masterlist of masterlists

The vampire diaries Masterlist

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

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[ivyjupiterwrites]

MDNI - Leash

AFAB! reader x Roach

Roach seeing you talking to someone at a pub, you two are technically friends but sorta have feelings, and the boys go

"Roach is going in--" Soap narrated like they were courtside at a basketball event or a MMA fight. "And boy does he ever look pissed."

"This should be a fight and a half." Price sighed through his nostrils lengthily, there wasn't a time he wasn't pulling that little but out of where he didn't belong it felt like.

"No kiddin'." Gaz, knowing how protective Roach was over you, period, could only nod in agreement.

"Nope." their heads all snapped around from gawking at the two of you, to Ghost, who cooly shook his head. Sipping from his glass, he raised a brow as he found them all their attention was now focused on him. "What?"

"Whaddya mean nope??" was Soap's initial reaction to the lieutenant's nonchalant, coolness in regards to the undoubted fist fight that was about to break out.

Between Roach and the dude, or you and Roach was to be determined.

"You really don't think so?" Gaz wondered with a raised brow, but the more he eyed how unhappy you looked that Roach was approaching, the more doubts he had.

"How the hell can you be so goddamned sure?" Price had his gaze fixated on Ghost more so than what was unfolding before them; there was a glint in normally dull, lifeless eyes. That playful wink that came out to show it's face whenever Simon Riley was up to no good.

"Brave thoughts Lt." Soap weakly smiled to his mate, seeing just how sure of himself he appeared and gave him a punch on the shoulder affectionately.

Roach was now bickering with you, looming over you tremedously and had waved away whoever you were talking to with a whoosh of his large mitt. You looked infuriated, pushing on him, throwing your hands around vehemently and if that didn't do-- your expression certainly suggested you were anything but pleased.

"She's gonna whoop him." looking on through his fingers, Gaz really didn't want to see Roach get himself pummelled by you. Or any teeth flying. He hated that.

"I told him how to deal with someone like her." Ghost assured them with a slight wave of his palm, "Just watch."

Curiously they watched with bated breaths, jolting a little as Roach caught one of your swinging hands. His hand enveloped yours, tugging you closer to him, he glared down at you icily. He had brought you in so close that your bodies were flush against each other, so that he was staring down the bridge of his nose at you.

They couldn't quite make out what he was saying, but he obviously wasn't happy about it. He had lowered himself to your ear, and with each thing that was said, his body lurched to brush up against yours.

It didn't take long, and with much further ado, he had you by the waist, fingers digging into the exposed flesh telling you "we're leaving, now." through gritted teeth.

"Put the puppy on a lead--" Ghost began after a while of sitting in silence, but Soap eyed him quizzically.

"You told him to leash the bitch--didn't you." the Scotsman asked exasperatedly, and Ghost tilted his head away to obscure his contorting features.

"I might have."

_____________________________________________________________

"What should I do?" pretending like he didn't hear him, Ghost proceeded on with cleaning his gun. "Lt?" sighing, he placed his gun on the container before him, turning to Roach he sat there, expectantly.

"Well?"

"Whaddya mean well?"

"What about?" the lieutenant gruffly replied, adjusting his in his seat to better face the sgt.

"What I was just telling you ab-" Ghost shook his head with a shrug, indicating he hadn't gotten a word. "-god fucking dammit c'mon!"

"I was cleanin' my gun." was his simply shrugged reply, a man could get really lost in cleaning his gun. In truth, he didn't want to play Dr Phil or Oprah or shrink, especially over some school yard crush. Why couldn't Johnny be here to answer this nonsense? It was his thing anyhow, Ghost would just eye some girl then darkly walk over with his smouldering aura. He didn't know how to not approach it with his 100%.

"Okay, so, I wanna… 'move things along'," he raised a brow suggestively, "So to speak with __--"

"You wanna fuck'er?" he stated plainly, and Roach nearly astral-ly ascended. Yes, but he didn't have to phrase it like that.

"Well no… I mean yes--that is the eventual plan--but--"

"Lemme rephrase that," Ghost offered casually, flicking a knife out of his pocket to play with while they conversed. "You wanna rail the absolute shit outta'er? Not just a lil one and done."

"Yeah…" not really knowing what else to say to that, he awaited his superiors response eagerly. Of anybody, it was either going to be him or Soap who he figured would have the answers. One of them was a blabbermouth, the other literally didn't want to speak even when he had to.

Great.

He wished Kyle wasn't like him, and that Price wasn't such a Peepaw. 'Perhaps he'd have good tips as an old man?' Roach thought to himself as Ghost was giving him…Debauchery.

"She's an easy one, that one." his superior laughed to himself, smiling wide Roach noticed the mischievous glint to his eye. "--you just gotta leash the bitch."

"That sounds….Misogynistic?" Roach countered cautiously, but was met with the deadpan of Ghosts chocolate hate gaze. There was little room for joking or humour suggested with the dullness of how they regarded him, so tired.

"Sex isn't about feminisms or equality or…. your doodads…" trying very hard not to snicker over the usage of 'doodads', Roach straightened himself up when his CO raised a brow at him. "It's about doing things, that're so god awful, you don't want to even look at the other person after."

"Are you sure?" gradually, the more and more Ghost talked, the more Roach felt like he was in the wrong place, asking very much the wrong person. Maybe he should've asked Laswell? She had a happy wife as far as he knew. Then again, that would be rather uncomfortable. How much more uncomfortable than this particular interaction, Roach wanted to wager perhaps less. "I kinda…still want her to talk to me after…"

"Oh she won't be able to get off your cock." Ghost assured him with the utmost confidence; so much so while just twirling his knife around that Roach was unsure if they were truly discussing sex. "Woman aren't that hard Roach, please'em, feed'em, fuck'em and leav'em somethin to snuggle at night--you'll have'er wrapped around your finger, cock, whatever you want."

"Okay, well that's great and all…" Roach was thankful for said information, but it didn't help him arrive there by any means. "But…like… how do I get there?"

"Ah, yes, right, back to point one," his gloved index doing a loop as to suggest rewinding, Ghost nodded affirmatively, "Put the bitch on a leash." he enunciated ever so carefully, and Roach could've screamed.

"I understand to some extent, like I have the leash right?" gripping thin air with his right, he showed his superior. "And the…Bitch… Ummm how do ya--" with a flick of his other hand, Ghost cut him off.

"Ahhh proposal of the sex huh? Don't know how to do that?"

"No….Not really." he admitted with a bashful shake of his head, Ghost could've figured well enough.

"Ain't no problem." Ghost set down his knife finally to clap him on the shoulder, both seeing and knowing Roach wasn't the most confident or self assured. "You walk up to her, you tell her 'we're leaving, now.' firm-like and grab ahold of her like it means something--that's important, you gotta take the lead, believe in yourself man--then fuck the life outta her." he walked the sgt through set by step, however, he had promptly lost Roach after 'we're leaving now'.

Ordering you around?

Was Ghost insane?

Was he trying to send him to an early grave?

That was the sole outcome Roach was sure was going to happen if he sauntered over to you, snatched any part of your being and bossed you out of an establishment. He had seen your aversion to authority, that you only listened to Price and Ghost, and that was on a good day.

"I just don't think that's gonna--"

"Hey, listen, I get it." Ghost shrugged to the sgt, "She's intimidating, and if you don't wanna sleep with her--"

"No I do!" the enthusiasm was amusing, bringing a smirk to Ghost' cloth covered mouth as Roach lurched in his seat.

"Then do what I say," the lieutenant urged him with not so subtle amusement. "Who knows? Might leave ya surprised."

_____________________________________________________________

Roach, who now was leading you along by the wrist, staring up at him wondrously, was going to have to give his lieutenant….well he felt like a full on kiss on the mouth considering what he had told him to do with you was working like a charm, but he thought that might only leave him long enough to be with you that one time.

He was sure he was going to want more. You just gave him that feeling.

#gary roach sanderson #roach cod #gary roach sanderson x reader #call of duty #cod 141 #141 x reader #18+ content

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Nobody's Girl - Chapter Three.

Check your girl out over here like Oprah. YOU get another chapter, and YOU get another chapter, and so on! I am seriously so flattered by everyone loving the story so far, and watching you all so rabidly consuming it makes me so very happy :)

With the time off work I have had recently, it's meant the story has virtually written itself, I'm up to chapter eleven in the writing, so what I thought would originally be a shorter series has turned into a longer one, meaning I can update more regularly. Well, I can only hope you like this chapter just as much as the previous two, and if you do, remember to leave me a little comment, or a reblog. You would have my eternal gratitude for doing so!

Previous chapters - One Two

Taglist - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 4,300

Warnings - Adult content throughout, minors DNI!

Conversation. With a woman he wasn’t involved with. Truly, Luca couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever enjoyed such, but there he was on an otherwise quiet Thursday night experiencing just that. A soft flurry of snow gently drifted down outside, his apartment the warm cocoon he and Emily sequestered themselves within, sitting on the couch, mostly her sharing stories of her life before she’d literally fallen into his.  

“I remember there was this one time, back when I first got caught up with them, I was taken for a game at this house in Queens. Joey had loaned me to his brother, Giacinto, but of course there was the issue of how he could get me in at the table. So, he made a bet on a bet, I guess you’d call it. Strode in there and announced that he bet each player two hundred bucks they couldn’t beat me in a game of seven card stud.  

“Of course, part of the point of poker is counting cards, but I can do it faster and better, and I did. I won Giacinto five grand in one night, and most of the guys were pissed as hell that I’d beaten them, except for one. He was an older guy, thick glasses, big birthmark on his cheek. He told me I was every man’s worst nightmare, a pretty blonde with a brain, and he respected that.”  

“That’s Jimmy Phelan, Irish mob from Philly,” Luca nodded, quite impressed that she’d grabbed his attention.  

She clicked her fingers in remembrance. “Yeah, Jimmy. That was his name. I’ve met so many wiseguys that it’s hard to keep up with all of the names. I remember the ones who have curious nicknames, like Carmine the Boots, and Duck Foot Silv. I never asked how they got them, though.” 

Luca knew, of course. “Carmine is the boots ‘cuz that’s what he does to those who earn it, fits ‘em with a nice set of concrete boots and sends ‘em off for a swim in the Hudson River. Silvio, they call him duck foot ‘cuz the guy was born with webbed toes.” 

Her eyes widened, leaning forward in her seat. “Have you seen the toes?” 

“I have,” he smirked, scratching his jaw,. “He does this trick, sticks a quarter on his big toe and flicks it about ten feet in the air.” 

She snorted with giggles, sipping her drink and catching an ice cube to chew upon. The sound of her cracking it between her teeth did something to his insides that he couldn’t explain, but was very, very pleasant. “I bet he’s a good swimmer too, huh?” 

“Guy don’t need no flippers, that’s for fuckin’ sure.” 

He looked at her for a long moment, enchanted as usual by her loveliness. It was so easy with her. She knew exactly who and what he was, and she just accepted it without fuss, acting unguarded with him, rather than either trying to work him out or shrink in intimidation. It made a nice change, to simply experience a slice of normality like that, and especially with a woman. Most only wanted him for his money or the association of who he was.  

Or his cock. He was famed for having one hell of a nice cock, after a woman he’d bedded had been very loud in her praise of it one time.  

“So yeah, back to Jimmy being nice to me. He gave me a hundred dollars, said I’d earned it, being such a good card player. I was amazed, and I thought the cash was mine to keep, but not according to Giacinto. Copped a huge beating for that assumption, ended up with this.”  

Hooking her finger into her mouth, she pulled her cheek back to reveal the empty gum space where her back teeth should have sat, Luca feeling caustic within. How hard must he have punched her to knock a both a double and fucking wisdom tooth out, he had to wonder, remembering how tough his own had been to have extracted by a dentist.  

“Bastardo,” he hissed, picking up his drink and knocking it back, refilling it. “Ain’t no big man’s game, sluggin�� a broad. You wanna prove you have cojones? Fuckin’ walk up to the biggest fella in the room and crack him in the mouth. S’what I used to do whenever I got thrown in Sing Sing as a kid, not long after I arrived here from England.”  

“Have you ever done serious time for your endeavours?” she asked, lifting the wool shawl where it had slipped from her shoulders, Luca wishing she’d left it. Any chance he got to view more of her beautiful, lily skin, and he shamelessly took it. It had been gnawing at him for the past fourteen days since she’d been there, chewing away at his resolve like a starving wolf.  

Usually, he’d have made his move by now on somebody he coveted. Hell, his record was ten seconds upon seeing a woman he desired, walking up to her and brashly asking a simple, three worded question. “Wanna fuck me?” No woman ever refused him. With Emily, though, because of her sheer loveliness, as tempting as it would be to corrupt, he held himself back.  

It was a fierce internal conflict he waged war with, his rampant libido dictating he simply take her to bed and bounce her on his cock until she screamed his name, the very little morality left within him castigating such, because of how innocent and sweet the girl was. He couldn’t tarnish something that lovely and pure with the infection of his darkness. Until he could come to some resolve, he supposed he’d have to simply deal with the juxtaposition of wanting to cherish her like a princess and fuck her like a whore.  

She was a billion miles away from the latter, though. Hence the conflict. 

Also, he got the distinct impression that she was still too scared of him. For the most part, she was settled around him, a little shy still, but definitely comfortable enough to open up to him and talk, just like she was doing on that particular evening. If he showed the weight of his desire for her, though, she’d surely bolt. The last thing he wanted was for her to flee.  

“I did a few years for theft, when I was eighteen,” he eventually replied, once he’d managed to finally pull himself back out of his thoughts. “Few times being locked up here and there in the time between, too.”  

“Don’t you mafia guys have the police on payroll, or something?” 

That was another reason why he held himself back. Would she truly want to remain in the world she’d been held prisoner in, should he instigate anything with her? Then again, at least this time she would have a choice. “We do now, yeah. Hence why I ain’t seen a cell in a while.”  

“I think I’d cry if I was ever arrested. Jail sounds scary,” she spoke, sipping her drink, her sweetness making his chest hurt. Why did she have to be the loveliest little thing he’d ever met? It was making him crazy, the want to protect her, the need to fuck her dirty, both colliding with the resolve that he’d solely keep here there until he knew all he wanted about the Calabrese family.  

It was a resolve that seemed to fracture away with every second that passed in her company.

She’d given him very useful information so far, too. Safe house locations his guys had duly gone in and looted, details of deals that she’d been made privy to that he’d been able to scupper before they’d had a chance to come to fruition. Because of Emily, he had the upper hand in the war against the family who – in his mind, at least – needed to show respect and fall back into line.  

What would happen when the well that was her information dried up, though? What, he was simply meant to let this beautiful little creature, this utter mythical princess of a woman unlike any others he’d encountered simply be on her way, and leave his life with a little less pure, iridescent sparkle in her wake? 

He was glad of the distraction when a heavy fist pounding the door below interrupted their evening, Emily nearly jumping out of her skin.  

“S’okay,” he assured her as he stood, resting a hand to her shoulder. “That’s Angelo, he has a habit of knocking like he’s the fuckin’ police.” He headed to the stairs, descending, opening the door but remaining out of her sight as he and Angelo exchanged hushed whispers. Luca appeared again after a few minutes, looking lamentable, but also angry as he pulled himself into his thick, black coat. 

“I have to go out, something I gotta attend to,” he spoke, Emily rising to her feet. 

“Oh, alright. When will you be back?” 

He shrugged, not looking pleased at all. “Hopefully not too long, but don’t wait on me, alright?” 

She nodded, and then completely on blind impulse, reached for his face, pulling him down to her tiny level and kissing his cheek. “Be careful.” 

His heart all but broke the ribs covering it with the force of its rapid thuds. He winked, thumb stroking the apple of her cheek. “I will, doll.”  

As he walked back down the stairs, he could still feel the soft press of her lips against his cheek, his pulse amped up from even the tiniest display of affection from his houseguest. He truly hadn’t expected it, and when he should have left the building with nothing but business on his mind, instead, it was only getting back to Emily again that occupied his thoughts.  

Meanwhile, the girl herself flopped back onto the couch, sighing as she covered her face with her hands. “Oh, god help me. I want that man so badly!” she grimaced, groaning with discomfort. Truly, she didn’t know how the hell to play it, either, feeling so conflicted.

Sometimes, he’d flirt with her, but she was too shy to reciprocate it, meaning he’d pull back and cool down with how he acted around her. Other times, she knew only too well he was trying to wheedle information regarding the Calabrese’s from her, information she found herself giving, getting herself furtherly wrapped up in a world she knew truly wasn’t any good for her.  

How much danger was she in, though, from her place beneath the albatross-like wings of Luca Changretta? Nobody would be fool enough to touch her. However, that was only if she became more to him than whatever she was, she supposed. Then again, he had told her several times already she was safe with him. 

Falling into a silly daydream, she imagined him taking her in his arms, kissing her, those big, tattooed hands laying worship upon her, that sultry voice of his speaking his wants and desires. She let her mind wander for so long that she was still partially in a daze when she heard a rapid knock at the door, followed by the creak of it opening, the music no longer playing.  

“Luca? It’s only me,” a female voice called, her heeled feet alighting the stairs. Before she could speak, a buxom looking redhead appeared, her face surprised as she took Emily in. “Oh, hi! I’m Maggie, and you are?”  

“Hi, Maggie. I’m Emily, and Luca is out,” she spoke, picking up her drink and finishing it. 

“Oh, oh alright. I must’a missed him leaving,” she muttered, holding two large jute bags in her hands. “I was just bringin’ up the takings to him, but I guess I can leave ‘em with you. You’re his new gal, right?” 

She shook her head. “No, just his, uh, his friend.”  

Maggie snorted, placing the takings down on the coffee table. “Luca don’t have gals who are just friends, sweetie pie.” She viewed her carefully, watching the way the young blonde blushed furiously, reaching for the vodka bottle. Only a tiny drizzle remained within.  

“Damn,” Emily pouted, “I drank it all.”  

“Hey, I gotta load of premixed cocktails I’d otherwise throw out. Fancy coming and helping me drink ‘em while I clean up for the night?” Maggie offered, suddenly feeling like she would be being rude to go and pour it all away, and leave the girl upstairs alone, waiting on a man who would likely be gone for hours. Especially too after she’d blatantly embarrassed the hell out of her by her assertion over her boss and his lack of female friends.  

Who was she to judge? Stranger things had happened, she guessed, although she had to admit, she was very curious. If Luca wasn’t giving her a good fucking on the regular, then just what was she doing there? She had noticed her boss not present down in the joint for the last two weeks, with none of his usual rotation of females making their way up to the apartment. Curiosity demanded an answer. 

Smiling, Emily rose to her feet, stuffing them into her shoes. “Sure, that’d be nice.”  Following Maggie back down, she was ushered over to the bar, taking a seat on one of the high stools, the clean up in full effect as people swept, tidied and mopped, the band disassembling their instruments and returning them to their respective cases.  

“Here, I hope you like Manhattan’s,” Maggie spoke, pouring a large measure into a copper mug and passing it over, topping off her own and holding it out. “Cheers, Emily.” 

“Cheers.” She took a swig, the alcohol hitting her throat so hard, she almost coughed, the redhead throwing her head back. 

“Sorry, sugar. I make ‘em potent!” she smirked, taking a soapy cloth and beginning to clean down the bar. “So, you and Luca. What’s the story, darl?”  

Emily didn’t really feel comfortable with revealing the whole truth to a perfect stranger, even though obviously she was a trusted person by the man himself. She wouldn’t have been working in his speakeasy if she wasn’t. “I’m staying with him for a little while.” 

“And you ain’t knockin’ boots with him?” she was then asked. 

“No, definitely not,” she replied, taking another sip of the rocket fuel in her grasp.  

Maggie raised an eyebrow, beginning to pick up liquor bottles from behind the bar and clean the runs and drips away with her cloth. “But you wanna, amirite? Everyone wants to fuck Luca, ‘cept me. I like ‘em a little prettier.”  

Watching her wink as a cute, almost angelic looking blonde saxophone player walked past and waved goodnight, Emily caught her drift immediately. Turning back to Maggie, she shrugged lightly. “I mean, I don’t know. I don’t think I’m his type.” By that point, she’d seen a picture of Filomena, his ex-wife when he’d shown her some photographs of his children. She was dark haired, buxom, Italian and glamorous. Everything she wasn’t.  

“True,” Maggie spoke, pausing to light a cigarette, her cleaning endeavours finished. “But men like somethin’ a lil’ different, they’ll find themselves urging for a taste of the unfamiliar when it’s presented to ‘em. You should give him a go, darl. I hear he’s good with his cock.”  

It was an unfortunate time to take a sip of the lethal Manhattan, Emily half spraying it back into the mug at her brazenness. Maggie couldn’t resist in teasing further. “One of the dancers here was fucking him a while back. Said he was hung like a bull and had the stamina of a guy half his age.”  

Emily felt herself shrinking with every word, Maggie throwing her head back and laughing hoarsely. “Oh, ain’t you a cutie! Gettin’ all shy. Sorry, I know I’m brash. I’ll behave.”  

Perhaps having a female perspective into her predicament might be helpful, she then pondered. Maggie seemed nice, friendly, too. It wasn’t like Emily had a whole lot in the way of friends, either, no gal pals to run her thoughts by. “Okay, so the truth is, I do want to,” she began, Maggie’s face lighting up as she leaned over the bar, huddling close. 

“Tell me more, sugar!” 

Pausing, she took another sip of her drink for courage. “I want to, but I never have before. With any man.”  

The barmaid’s eyes all but fell out of her skull. “Really?” 

She nodded.  

“But... why? Sex is amazing with the right guy!” 

Just then, a door flew open down at the other end of the room, one of the dancers striding out, mid-tirade. “It’s the fuckin’ same with all you fuckin’ Italian jerks!” she screamed, the guy following her looking nonchalant. “All of youse expect us to fuckin’ suck dick, but when it comes to returning it, nadda, nothin’, no sale! Would it fuckin’ kill you to eat me out just once, Luciano?” 

He shrugged, lighting a cigarette. “I ain’t about that.” 

“Yeah, me and my thirsty kitty cat know only too well, you two-bit fuck! We’re done!” She was out of the joint in a blur of sequins and fury, Emily and Maggie sharing a wide-eyed look at having front row seats to such a show. 

“Yeah, he ain’t the right guy,” the latter snorted, jerking her thumb in the direction where Luciano, one of Luca’s street guys had just walked in, softly cussing to himself in Italian.  

“To answer your question, I don’t know, really,” Emily confessed, thinning her lips momentarily. “I’ve never found anyone I like enough to do it with, I guess. It’s like I’m a beacon for shitty guys with bad intentions.”  

Her confidant didn’t truly know how to answer that, since Luca did seem to go through women like they were entering and exiting in a revolving door. However, there was a plus point. “Well, if you decided to, at least it wouldn’t be a lousy first experience for ya. He’s forty-three, the man has heaps of experience, so it wouldn’t be like my first. Two pumps and a squirt, baby. I was so disappointed,” 

The women both snorting laughing, Emily throwing her head back as she truly began to cackle loudly. Oh, she was funny, this brazen woman who had taken her under her wing and plied her with lethally potent cocktails. While she was beginning to relax and find herself making a new friend, the topic of their conversation was walking into a speakeasy in Bushwick, his crew around him.  

“Luca, glad you could join me,” Giacinto Calabrese spoke, leaning back in his seat. “Drink?”  

“No thanks,” he drawled through the chew on his toothpick, “won’t be stayin’ all that long. So, Angelo here tells me you gotta deal for me, huh?” 

His adversary gestured to a chair, Luca taking a seat, his eyes never leaving the man as he felt his mood darkening, looking at his hands. Those were the knuckles that had smashed the teeth out of her mouth. “I do, because you have somethin’ of ours we want returned to us, but I’m a fair man. I’m happy to exchange.” Lifting his chin, he pulled his cigarettes out, lighting one up. “Give me the girl, and I’ll walk away from the warehouses in Yonkers. You have my word.” 

He rolled his tongue against his cheek, chuckling a deadly hiss. “Your word is worth shit, and Emily ain’t for sale, pal.” 

“Oh!” The wise assed man laughed, entertained. “On first name terms with the little puttana now, huh? Wait, I can’t call her that, though. Bitch is more frigid than a fuckin’ nun!”  

Luca remained still, but his eyes moved with all the intent of a predator locking onto its target, slowly pulling the toothpick from between his lips. “The fuck you just call her, stronzo? A bitch?” 

“Yeah,” Giacinto laughed, “I called her a bitch, and...”  

That was as far as he got before the lion that was the head of the Changretta mob pounced, grabbing his collar and pounding his head down onto the table, their respective guys all drawing their weapons. 

“You’re outnumbered, fellas,” Angelo rumbled, tutting. “Put ‘em down.” The men fell back, all watching the scene unfold before them.  

Luca loomed like a shadow of death, his hand holding Giacinto fast against the smooth, dark wood. “Did you call her a bitch when you knocked her fuckin’ teeth out? Did ya? Tell me, how hard does a guy like you have to slug a tiny little thing like her to crack the goddamned teeth from her jaw? This hard?” His fist met his face in a sickeningly strong blow, the piece of shit beneath his grasp grunting in pain. “This hard?” He punched him again, this time loosening one of the teeth he was aiming for, Luca hauling him up and beginning to lay repetitive punches to his face, Giacinto flying back to the floor.  

With his rage pumping like water through a broken dam, Luca loomed over him, pulling a flick knife from his pocket and releasing the blade, holding it so hard against his cheek, his blood began to seep from beneath the press. “You ever speak her name again and I will cut your fuckin’ tongue from your head. The Yonkers warehouses are mine now, too, just for the fuckin’ gall of you. Give your fuckin’ father my goddamned regards, Giacinto.”  

“Fuck you, Luca!” he spat, shame and rage coiling through him.  

“Fuck me, huh?” he laughed, low and deadly. “Nah, kid. Tell me, you right-handed? You are, aren’t ya? It was your right hand you used to beat her, wasn’t it?” Wrenching his arm up, he grasped his wrist, bringing the knife down between his third and fourth fingers, beginning to slice through skin, sinew and tendons. Giacinto screamed, Luca holding the knife towards Angelo, needing both hands to grab the second and third, then fourth and fifth fingers, grasping hard before literally ripping his hand apart.  

“Can’t go punching little girls no longer now, can you?” Standing, he left him screaming on the floor, looking to his guys. “Step down from the warehouses as of tonight, or I do worse to all six of youse.” With that, Luca and his eight cohorts left the speakeasy, heading back to their cars, Brooklyn bound. Entering his apartment just under a half hour later, he made sure he was quiet, not wanting to wake the beauty in his bed.  

Hanging his coat and jacket, he unlaced his shoes, removing his tie as he walked over to the bed, just about able to see her outline there curled up, sleeping soundly. Reaching toward her face, he gently swept the platinum strands of hair that had fallen loose back behind her ear, tenderly stroking the apple of her cheek with the back of his fingers.  

He realised right there that she could never again utter anything about the Calabrese’s, and he wouldn’t care at all. He didn’t need her for information. He just needed her to be safe.  

The twisted irony wasn’t lost on him, though, that the very person she wasn’t safe from was the one whose bed she slept soundly in, but for very different reasons than what the Calabrese’s represented. He lingered there only a moment longer before going to the bathroom and undressing, pulling on his grey and white striped pyjama bottoms, heading for the couch.  

“Luca?”  

He actually jumped a little, hearing her soft voice suddenly sound through the dark. “Yeah, doll?” Turning, he watched her sit up, peeling the bed clothes back as she shuffled over, patting the mattress. “It’s freezing. You can’t keep sleeping on the couch. I don’t mind sharing.”  

He hesitated only a second before walking over, climbing in next to her, his heart beginning to race. Her warmth was the most alluring intoxication he’d ever felt near to him, wanting nothing but to wrap himself around her, meld his body to hers, tell her in no uncertain terms that Giacinto Calabrese would never dare touch her again.  

Lying there, Emily could feel the tension radiating from him, not knowing why he was in such a state, but sensing it all the same. Had something happened, while he was out, something to spark his temper, amp his ire? She felt him turn away from her, turning over herself and hesitating a moment before putting the advice she’d had from Maggie to good use. ‘Just move on him. You’re beautiful, sugar. He won’t turn you down.’  

It wasn’t necessarily a sexual advance, as Maggie had been specifically advocating, but it was a step in the right direction. Wrapping her arm around him, she pressed herself against his back, resting her hand to his chest. Her heart almost leapt into her throat when she felt him grasp her hand, thumb stroking, placing a kiss upon her fingers.  

He clutched her hand tight, feeling her breath flutter against his shoulder blades, his heart still hammering. If he turned to her, that would be it. He wouldn’t be able to hang onto the bull within him, goring against the very last of his soft flesh in a bid for freedom. Flesh that had softened for her. 

He remembered how he’d felt, punching Giacinto repeatedly in the face, until he had expelled blood with every groaned breath, all for her, because of her, because no man would ever make the sweet little darling curled against him feel less than all she was ever again.  

But still, he didn’t dare turn over. It’d be like Satan himself defiling the purest of angels. If only Luca knew, though, as he wrestled with the beast within, that the only thing the angel pressed against his back wanted was to feel the burn of his lust against her skin.  

#luca changretta fanfiction #luca changretta smut #luca changretta x ofc #luca changretta fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders fic #luca changretta fic #nobody's girl #luca and emily

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Are we thinking MM will be Misan’s plus one for the Oscars? She has been love bombing him for ages now and surely his poor quality photos of her are not all she is after.

If he takes her instead of his wife, it would be a new level of low.

So I've been thinking about this, and I don't think Meghan actually wants to go to the Oscars, the Grammys, the Golden Globes, etc.

I think she loves being associated with that A-List crowd and she loves the idea of us (her adoring public *and* her critical public) thinking she's that popular, influential, famous, wealthy, connected to be "in" with that crowd. But I think she's actually terrified to be physically there with that crowd.

If you look at every public 'engagement' Meghan does, there's always a couple of things in common:

She controls every single thing - how she looks, who she speaks to, who approaches her, what they say to her, how she's photographed, where she's photographed, who's with her, who's next to her, who's taking her picture, so on.

She's the main attraction, the big kahuna - everyone is there to see her, they want to listen to her, they want to shake her hand, they want to hug her, they want to write only about her.

Neither of these are possible when she's in an auditorium full of much more famous, much wealthier, much more connected, much more desirable celebrities than her. She wants to sit front and center like William and Kate do at the BAFTAs but that's not possible; front and center at the Oscars is reserved for the people that the rest of us tune in to watch - the Meryl Streeps, the Colman Domingos, the Lily Gladstones, the Cilian Murphys. If being in the overflow room on the 8th row in an enormous ballgown is humiliating, just wait till she's stuck at the back of the auditorium with the film editors, the foreign language nominees, and the plus-ones of everyone not famous enough to sit at the front on camera.

Something else to remember about these kind of events is that they're giant parties for the Hollywood industry. Meaning everyone knows everyone, they're all there for a good time. they're not there to promote anything or talk business -- they're not going to talk to someone they don't know, who doesn't really work in the industry, and who's made headlines for blabbing about other people's private/personal business. In other words, Meghan is going to be the one going up to these people to talk to them. She's going to be the one climbing over the chairs to give hugs and say hello and she's going to be the one catering to other people's egos. That's not what she wants. She wants people to come to her, to be in awe of her, to be flattering her ego.

And because everyone knows everyone at these events, it's probably a very safe assumption that if Meghan and Harry have misbehaved/done things to certain people as alleged, then those people have told their friends/staff, who've told their friends, so a whole bunch of people are on their guard about Meghan being in their space.

(Some of those rumors: Harry taking drugs at Courtney Cox's house party and writing about it in Spare, Christian Bales's family having concerns about what Meghan wheedling Gloria Steinem, Meghan using Oprah for headlines while Oprah was at her dying father's bedside, all the shit that went down with Tyler Perry, whatever went down with David Foster and Kat McPhee, Meghan hitting on Serena's husband, whatever Melissa McCarthy and Tracee Ellis Ross know about 40x40, whatever went down with the fertility doctor/OBGYN who closed up shop right after Lili was born, whatever she did to piss off Edward Enniful, everything that happened with Netflix and Spotify (which Netflix hinted at in last week's article), and Meghan's "fuck off" to Anna Wintour about the Met Gala that got her blacklisted.)

Another thing is the fashion at these events. It is a 100% total merchfest. 9 out of 10 celebs you see on the red carpet (including the men) have partnered with designers and are wearing their clothes/jewelry for free. Who the celebs wear usually correlates to one of three things: their fame/popularity, personal relationships between designer/stylist and celebrity, and the likelihood of the celeb getting on camera. Meghan isn't going to get the elite designers to dress her for these events. She doesn't want to wear Carolina Herrera or Hermes readywear when everyone else is wearing hot-off-the-runway Dior, Versace, Prada, etc. She doesn't want to wear Birks when everyone else is dripping in Harry Winston, Cartier, Tiffany's.

And finally, these events are filmed/streamed live. Meghan doesn't like being recorded when she isn't in control. And these are 3-hour, 4-hour long events. She can't keep her mask on for that long, especially when she's being snubbed and ignored by people she thinks should be falling down at her feet. That's why she always hypes up going to the after-parties instead, and why the only events she actually *does* attend are red carpets for private events - there are no cameras at the actual events so she can more easily keep up the "I'm all that and still unbroken!" facade she so desperately wants us to believe.

I mean, she bailed on the Travolta awards at the last minute for a reason.

And if she can't handle being third fiddle to William and Kate, she absolutely can't handle being third fiddle to an entire auditorium of Williams and Kates.

So she might be lovebombing Misan to be his plus-one to the Oscars. But I don't think she would actually go. She'll probably pull out last minute. If anything, I think she's probably lovebombing for tickets to Netflix's after-party. She may also be trying to get Misan to be her "personal" photographer the way Kate "has" Matt Porteous and Chris Jackson.

#ask #brf #sussexes

[thegridgoddess]

Prove It | Charles Leclerc Pt. 8

One Shot | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x fem!wolff!driver oc

Summary: Charles has a new teammate, but just because she's pretty doesn't mean he's gonna make things easy for her.

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, angsty Charles, slow burn till it hits you in the face. Piningggg. George Russell best friend and ultimate mom energy, Lando Norris sibling energy, Pierre Gasly is the worst in this ngl, and Toto Wolff sucks here (not a good dad!). Also did I mention the angst? Remember that this is all purely fictional.

A/N: I have been waiting to write this chapter foreverrrr and I think it's my favorite one yet... Also, ended up throwing another pairing in there, but let me know what you guys think🤭

Word Count: 5.4k

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He won.

Riley could have kissed him. The way he lit up, beaming, pumping a victorious fist in the air as he exited the car. The way it seemed, even time bent to his will, slowing to stop as she took him in. The champagne droplets fell around him like fresh summer rain, soaking his hair even more than the sweat of 78 laps in Monaco–his home race. The sight was too much for her. Charles finally did it. He won his home race, fulfilling a long-awaited dream of his, and Riley was placated with the fact she could be near him as a teammate, if nothing more. 

Lando got lucky today, stealing her third-place spot only because the stewards got nitpicky, handing out five-second penalties like they were Oprah tossing out car keys. Still, she couldn’t be happier for Charles. She just wished she could show it better. 

They still hadn’t talked things out after what went down in Miami, but all things considered, Riley wouldn’t even know what to say. Hey, about that drunk kiss… yes, I’m dating your best friend, but also, I know you’re in love with me? It didn’t sound like the start of a very promising conversation to her either.

Despite all that awkward tension in the air, he still hugged her as soon as he hopped out of the car. He didn’t hesitate to envelop her in a hug–albeit a sweaty and rushed one, yes, but a hug nonetheless. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her in deeply before he was instantly pulled in a hundred different directions by other Ferrari crew members. Needless to say, he didn’t hug any of them. He threw her a sheepish smile as he got dragged away in the frenzy.

It’s just the excitement, she told herself, nothing more. It was pointless to think about it anyway. She was with Pierre and blah blah blah, a million reasons why she shouldn’t be with Charles, why she shouldn’t act on the information she heard. Yes, it was his friend she was with, for starters, but also the fact that Charles hadn’t been the one to divulge his feelings to her. Until she hears the words coming from his mouth, they might as well not have been real at all. Love, what was he thinking? It was ridiculous to even conceive the notion, so if Charles was really in love with her, he would have to prove it.

She was lost in thought until a hand wound up on her shoulder, bringing her back into the moment. She assumed it might have been her boyfriend, but she turned around instead to find her best friend standing before her.

“That must have been rough,” he said, an apologetic smile on his lips.

“What? I’m fine,” she dismissed, but it was useless. George could see right through her on the best of days. This was no different.

“Sure you are,” he indulged her.

“I should probably talk to him about it at some point, I’m aware, but not now,” she sighed, her eyes following Charles on his victory tour around the paddock. “He deserves this moment without my melodrama to ruin it.” She nodded to herself, reassured she was doing the right thing by speaking her thoughts out loud.

“I could have been talking about your race, you know? You made this about Charles. I’m just saying.” He brought his hands up in a no-offense kind of way. “Either way, are you still coming to celebrate with us tonight?”

Riley let loose another sigh. “I can’t. I’m supposed to meet Pierre tonight.”

George rolled his eyes, ever against the Frenchman. “You can’t just ditch him this one time? Lando doesn’t just get a podium every day.”

“No, I can’t just ditch him this one time. I’ve already been blowing him off to be with you two since we landed here because you guys can’t mind your own business.” Then to add the icing on the cake, “You remember when you and Lando dabbled in breaking and entering?”

“Hey, it’s not ‘breaking’ if you gave me a spare key,” Lando says, materializing. “Just entering,” he says more thoughtfully as if this distinction matters.

“Yeah, in case of emergencies because you’re the only person I know in this stupid country,” Riley said tight-lipped, arms crossed.

“Oh well, that’s just completely false,” another voice chimed in behind Riley. His voice was silky smooth despite the amount of cheering and shouting he must have done. That adorable accent would always give him away. “You know me,” Charles said cheerfully. “And my country is not stupid,” he added.

It helped that everyone laughed. It meant that Riley didn’t actually have to come up with a serious response to that comment. At least not here. Not right now, in front of her closest friends and just about most of the online world–not that she wouldn’t put it past Lando to curate the rumors regardless of who was around.

She searched for a way out of the conversational group. She didn’t want to stand next to Charles and pretend they were fine when things were not in any way fine between them. She spotted salvation in the form of Pierre Gasly, her boyfriend. Perfect.

“Gotta go. Need to talk to Pierre about something,” she said while already speeding away. She turned over her shoulder and added a wink for good measure. Totally normal behavior from someone who was totally fine.

Pierre must have been deep in thought because he didn’t notice her coming until she stopped right in front of him. His surprise softened into a smile with her presence, and he greeted her with a deep kiss.

“They seem to be doing well,” Charles smiled wistfully. It was apparent that George and Lando didn’t share the same mindset as they were staring daggers at Pierre’s back. Charles was glad that Riley had people that really cared about her. He could live without Riley considering him one of them as long as she was happy. “But you both can let her know that she doesn’t need to worry about anything. I’ve thought about it, and I decided we should just let things go and go back to the way things used to be. We don’t even have to talk at all if that would make her more comfortable. I’d tell her myself, but I feel like she’ll just run away again.”

“What?!” Lando and George exclaim at the same time.

“You can’t do that!” Lando cried out. “What if she’s in l–” 

George slapped a hand over Lando’s mouth before he could do any damage. Lando tried mumbling against George’s hand, but George had learned his lesson with Lando the last time he allowed him freedom of speech.

“What Lando means to say is, you can’t do that!” George realized his outburst and blanched at his unexpected response, feeling faintly embarrassed to have lashed out at Charles in the same way as Lando. Was he feeling alright? To Charles’ credit, he didn’t even react to George, that placated look still lingering on his face. George cleared his throat, trying to regain some dignity. “I mean, have you tried telling her how you feel? Because I think you should really try talking to her.”

“There’s no point. If she’s happy with Pierre, then I’m not going to stand in the way of that. Pierre told me they’re taking things seriously, so I won’t mess with that. And there’s nothing more to say about it besides that.” At that point, George felt a slimy wetness against his hand and dropped it instantly, forgetting why it was necessary to be held there in the first place. He made a sound of disgust and wiped his hand on his racing suit.

“But what about your feelings?” Lando asked fervently. 

“It’s Riley’s feelings that matter, not mine,” Charles answered calmly.

“But how do you know she doesn’t feel the same if you don’t talk to her?” George continued, not caring that he was stooping to Lando’s level of meddling.

“If she felt the same way, she wouldn’t be with Pierre.” Charles sighed ruefully as if he fully resigned himself to the situation and the reality he was forced to come to. There was no other way.

Lando and George started a series of half sentences they couldn’t continue out of respect for Riley, but there was more each of them wanted to say about the matter. The fact of it was that it just wasn’t their place, and it couldn’t be helped.

“Ugh! Fine,” George finally said, dragging Lando away by the arm. “I still don’t understand why I chose to surround myself with children,” he muttered to himself.

“Because you care about us, for one,” Lando answered as if it was a question George was actually proposing.

“Don’t start with me,” he said. The look he gave Lando was enough to shut him up as they left Charles behind to more crowds of celebration. “If they’re gonna figure this thing out, it’s gonna happen regardless of what we think is best. You got that, Lando?” 

George didn’t actually wait for a response to that. He knew the other boy well enough. But much to his surprise, Lando groaned in agreement. 

Charles and Riley were just gonna have to work this thing out for themselves, if at all. No outside help, however well-meaning. The only question about it now was as to how Lando and George would fill the time.

_____________________________________________________________

Charles was on a high like never before. He was downright cheery despite his resolve to let Riley go. This win was special, and nothing could change that. If anything, the fact that he won today only strengthened his resolve. He was certainly on the right track, and this was a sign.

Not much else could bring him down, except possibly for Toto Wolff obstructing his path.

“Charles, I would like to speak with you,” he said without hesitation. The permanent smile on Charles’ face faltered as he thought about how this was Riley’s father, the man who abandoned and ignored her for years. He did not want to speak with the man any more than she did.

Toto caught his face falling and dropped his similarly. All pretenses of politeness fell away just the same. “Look, I don’t know what she’s told you, but it doesn’t matter–not in the face of your future,” he said with a finger pointed in the air.

“My future?” Charles repeated bewilderedly. Anyone could see them having this conversation here. The paddock wasn’t the most private place to be having this conversation. Toto had to be really assured of himself to be lacking all subtlety.

“Yes, the future you could have here at Mercedes if you keep this up. Nothing is final, of course, you know how these deals work. But I can say that Lewis will have to retire eventually, and it would be a shame not to have that seat filled by someone of your talent.”

Charles scoffed, taking Toto aback. “Talent? You wouldn’t know talent if it hit you over the head. And I know this because it did.” Charles shook his head in disbelief. “Riley is a talented driver. And an even better person at that, but you wouldn’t know about that, would you? You don’t have a shred of the kindness, humor, and ingenuity that she has, so why would I waste my time with you?” Charles didn’t wait for a response as he walked past Toto, checking him. 

Somehow, that cheery attitude found him once again, and a smile returned to its rightful place on his face. He was looking forward to the rest of the day. Despite his win, he didn’t really want to do anything in celebration. He wouldn’t be going out anywhere with anyone–not that it had ever been his thing. Finally, he has some time to focus on himself and maybe begin to let go of his feelings for Riley. Because what was the point in celebrating if he couldn’t even do it with the person he wanted to the most?

It was just a little past 11 PM when he saw the headlines, and he jumped in his car well before his phone even had the chance to ring. So much for staying in tonight.

_____________________________________________________________

For once, Riley did not feel like going out. There was a first time for everything, but she didn’t think there would ever be a first time for this. Maybe it was because she didn’t actually win today and had no reason to be celebrating, or maybe it was because these stupid heels were already killing her. It felt like her foot was going to be stuck in that permanent arch if she didn’t take them off soon enough. And she was certain that if the black satin material of her dress kept riding up, she was going to kill someone.

The building itself was gorgeous, of course. Everyone knew that the Casino de Monte-Carlo was a sight to see, with its marble architecture and columns along every wall. The number of chandeliers lighting each room made Riley wonder how much the casino spent on electricity alone. Then again, the cost of the paintings probably wouldn’t pale in the face of that insane number. The space was filled with the gentle cacophony of games happening all around.

Riley wasn’t sure what she was meant to do here, but Pierre wanted to come so she would indulge him. They had actually been having a rather good time together as of late. Before today’s race, they had stupid conversations that made Riley laugh while Pierre rolled his eyes and just hung out like normal people would. It was simple between them, and that was nice—no headaches required. 

She texted him of her arrival and waited for him to come find her.

People were mingling all around her, looking effortlessly classy in a way that made Riley feel out of place, even in her nicest black satin dress. Though she knew her friends weren’t there, she kept scanning the room, holding out hope for a friendly face.

She almost wished she already had a drink in her hands so that she would at least have something to do with them. She hated having to stand around awkwardly, fidgeting with her hands. Finally, she pulled out her phone to text George and Lando, but her messages sat there on delivered. This meant they were probably getting absolutely plastered somewhere. It almost concerned her since she didn’t know anyone else who could be with them to look after them, and George certainly wasn’t the reckless type to be partying without someone declared to stay sober. She hoped wherever they were, they were being safe but still having a good time–not like she was while waiting for her boyfriend to turn up.

She stared at the small screen, willing something to happen, anything at all. It had been almost ten minutes, and nothing. Originally, she and Pierre were supposed to arrive together, as they agreed earlier in the day, but he had changed his mind after the race, saying he’d rather wait for Riley at the casino. He didn’t give a reason for his change of mind, but Riley didn’t really mind. This way, she could get ready in peace without him hounding her to get going. And even still, the night was still young.

She almost started taking a turn around the room to find Pierre when a grating voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Well, if it isn’t Riley Wolff,” Lance Stroll drawled out, walking up to her with Esteban Ocon following closely behind. “Wouldn’t expect to see you here.”

She had avoided Stroll for so long in the hopes of distancing herself from any nepo-baby allegations, but it seemed it couldn’t be helped at this moment. He hadn’t taken kindly to being blown off regularly, and she always paid for it on the road with him. Despite this, she was glad to see people she recognized, albeit if they weren’t the friendliest. It’s not that she had anything against Ocon, but they hadn’t spoken much, and as far as she knew, Ocon had some rivalry going with her boyfriend. Needless to say, the universe couldn’t have picked worse people to walk up to her.

“Stroll,” she said in acknowledgment with a nod. “Ocon,” she turned to him as well. Ocon had the decency to nod back respectably so, but Stroll remained impassive with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. There was no point in picking anything with them, so she just let it go, moving to walk away.

“We were just talking to Pierre by the bar over there if you’re looking for him,” Stroll said innocently. It was unsettling, but Riley wouldn’t give him the time of day. She just had to find her boyfriend, and then everything would be fine.

“Thanks…” she said warily and stepped away from them toward the bar. She threw a look back over her shoulder only to see the boys were still watching her with something akin to fascination. She quickened her step.

It didn’t take her long to spot Pierre–only, he had a hand on another girl’s upper arm, and she held a blush on her cheeks and wonder in her eyes. He was unsteady on his feet, eyes half-lidded, clearly drunk. He reached up to the girl’s loose blonde ponytail and began playing with it nonchalantly.

“...love to see them sometime,” she heard Pierre say as she neared. The girl giggled and reached out to hand her phone to him in turn. Riley promptly stepped in between them, the phone falling to the ground with a clack as it was knocked out of the blonde girl’s hands. She scoffed at Riley’s intrusion, obviously unaware of who she was.

“What the fuck,” she said, dead staring Pierre’s cloudy green eyes. 

“Riley!” Pierre said, failing to school his shock into excitement and stumbling over a bit. He latched onto her for support, but she shook him off. “You were supposed to text me when you got here.” As he patted the pockets of his suit, he noted the total absence of his phone. Explanation dawned on him in the form of a cackling Stroll, keeled over ten feet away with Ocon waving a phone in the air as if to say looking for this?

It gave Riley all the confirmation she needed as to what was going on right there. She should have known better.

He tried changing his tune. “Shit. Riley, I’m sorry–”

“Save it,” She spat out, suddenly not caring about what everyone else thought around her. “I’m leaving. Come find when you’re sober and ready to talk like an adult instead of getting trashed.” 

He didn’t say anything to that. Riley just didn’t understand why? What made him act out this way? They were doing so well, she thought.

The blonde girl tapped her on the shoulder, and Riley almost bit her head off until she realized she was just trying to get to her phone, which was lodged directly under Riley’s heel. She felt a little bad–it wasn’t the girl’s fault Pierre made poor decisions, but the glare in the girl’s eyes quickly made her change her mind about that. Not innocent then, I suppose.

Riley lifted her foot off the girl’s phone and stormed away, rage fueling her senses. She was not five steps away when she heard Pierre say, “Don’t worry about it. She’s one to talk–but what can you expect from a spoiled girl with daddy issues.” 

Riley had never turned around so fast in her life, nor had she ever clocked anyone square in the face. But this was exactly what she did as she whirled around and lined up her fist to meet Pierre’s nose. “Ah!” He cried out in pain, blood pouring from his now disfigured nose. Several shocked gasps were coming from the crowd around them. Multiple games came to a halt, and the murmuring started a half-second later.

Oh, and it felt good–for all of two seconds until her knuckles started hurting from the pain of colliding with Pierre’s bones and skull. This time, she couldn’t have walked away even if she wanted to, as two arms seized her on each side, forcibly pulling her away. Security.

Riley would be more embarrassed if it wasn’t for Pierre being dragged away as well; somehow, that made her feel better. All of the journalists, podcasters, and influencers were going to be having a field day with this one, to say the least. 

_____________________________________________________________

Apparently, casinos had detainment rooms for this kind of thing, in the same way, that you might get held at a grocery store for shoplifting until the police arrive. Lucky for them, the management at the casino decided they didn’t want to get the police involved. Not only would it be bad press for them, but Riley and Pierre just so happened to be considered high-profile guests in a country where everyone was a multi-millionaire–so that meant something.

It also probably had to do with the fact that neither of them had done anything illegal to harm the casino, like cheating. So they were getting off easy. All they were asked to do was have somebody there to escort them, and they would be allowed to leave the premises–no press or cops involved.

Regrettably, Riley only had a short list of people to call, and none of them would pick up the damn phone. Just what the hell were George and Lando up to? 

She was left with no choice but to leave Charles a voicemail and hope that he would see it sometime soon.

“Hey, it’s me. Um– I need a favor from you,” she cleared her throat, feeling uncomfortable begging Charles for help. “I’m in a bit of trouble right now, and well, you’re the only other person I trust in this country, as we established,” she chuckled awkwardly even though Charles wasn’t actually on the phone with her. “Anyway, if you could please come pick me up I would really appreciate that. Uh– just open Instagram or something, and you’ll know where to look.”

She left the message at that, not knowing what else to say.

“You have some nerve,” Pierre piped up from his side of the room. There was only one detainment room in the casino (Riley supposed it had something to do with fist fights being more uncommon amongst those who thought themselves classy), and this meant that security had handcuffed Riley to the bench on one side of the small room, and Pierre on the other. There was also a tiny camera in the corner surveilling them. “Calling my best friend to pick you up after you hit me.”

He was given a ziplock bag of ice for his wound, and he held it up with his free hand. Riley didn’t have the satisfaction of seeing him cry out in pain once again as he was taken elsewhere in the casino to have the bone reset. The blood was dry on the stubble above his lip, just as it was dry on her knuckles. She was also given ice for her wound, but it was awkward to apply with her good hand being cuffed, so she quickly gave up on it.

Riley clicked her tongue. “Well, my teammate can decide whether or not that punch was justified when he gets here. It was warranted,” she gave a hmph. What the fuck had gotten into Pierre? They were just fine before this.

Then again, now that she thought about it, he did try to shake her off rather quickly after she caught up with him after the race. She had assumed he was tired, but clearly, it was something more.

Pierre tilted his head all the way back in cacophonous laughter as if Riley had made the joke of the century. “He’s not coming, Riley,” an air of finality rang in the words. “Even if you two are screwing around behind my back–”

“Whoa- what the hell?!” Riley raised her eyebrows at him. She wanted to throw her arms up too, but the move wasn’t as effective with only one of her arms free.

“--he couldn’t come even if he wanted to,” Pierre finished.

“We’re not ‘screwing around behind your back.’ All right?” Riley clarified. For all she thought of Charles, she hadn’t made a move on him at all since she and Pierre decided to go steady. At the very least, she couldn’t be accused of that.

Pierre gave a little scoff and rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t matter. He’s clearly into you. More than into you, even.”

“What does that matter? I chose you,” Riley made sure to emphasize that last word.

“But you didn’t. Not really,” he said more quietly. “I’ve seen the way you look at him and god–have you heard the way he talks about you?” There was pain in his voice. “You may have agreed to date me, Riley, but you never chose me. Let’s not pretend otherwise.”

Riley was stunned into silence as Pierre continued, “I liked you first, Riley. For the first time in my life, I was nervous around a girl, and I didn’t know what to do with you. How was I supposed to show you I wanted more without messing it all up? I’m not exactly known for being great at relationships.” His eyes were trained on the floor. “And when I was finally getting round to telling you everything, I realized it was pointless. Because he liked you. Why bother trying when I could see you were already inclined to pick him either way.”

“You don’t know that,” Riley shook her head incredulously. It was hard to describe how she was feeling at the moment. She was still mad at him, of course, but something about the severity of his voice at that moment made her turn in on herself.

“Except I do know that because it’s been this way forever. My whole life, Charles has taken everything I’ve done and done it better. I made it to F1 before him with a decent team, and I thought to myself, wow, I actually did something better than him for once. Only for Charles to come in the following year and just be so goddamned perfect as always that he gets a seat at a front-field team like it’s nothing.”

“So you have poor self-esteem issues when it comes to Charles,” Riley said, “that still doesn’t explain what you think happened between us or why you couldn’t just talk to me,” She gave a light shrug with her shoulder and wrapped one arm around herself in comfort.

“I tried to pretend like it didn’t matter to me, okay? Like I didn’t want you the way I did. I even lied to Charles about it, thinking that it would help me believe it, but it didn’t.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “I wanted to surprise you that night in Miami and make things official in a special way. I was always going to come back for you. I didn’t imagine George would have left you and that you would end up inviting Charles back to your room.”

Riley sucked in a sharp breath at that. She had certainly been drinking that night, but she remembered the situation all too well. The way she wanted to just let everything go to hell if she could just have Charles for one night.

“I was coming back, and he didn’t even notice me on his way to the bar.” Did everyone see Charles that morning? Riley held back the question, but she almost began to wonder if she was the only one who didn’t understand Charles was in love with her then. All things considered, it was likely. “I could see his emotions written all over his face, and it pissed me off. Just for once, I wanted to have something of my own. Just for once, I wanted to be selfish. That’s when I decided to be selfish with you anyway, despite knowing how he felt about you and how you felt about him. It wasn’t enough in the end, of course. And before you say anything, Riley, it is so obvious that you’re in love with him. It was painful to see you two together today, and I had to pretend like you were still mine.”

Riley wanted to be shocked at the insinuation, but she couldn’t, not when this was what everyone was telling her. Her. Charles. Love. It just all fit together like a puzzle she didn’t know she was building. How could that be? It was just yesterday that Charles was her rude teammate who she couldn’t figure out. Now, she wanted him in a way that could only really be translated as a need. 

That reminded her. “What did you mean when you said that Charles couldn’t come here even if he wanted to?”

Pierre gave a small grin, and she was sure it had to do with her lack of rebuttal against his claims. He was right, and he didn’t need to be told, but it was all the confirmation he needed.

“Charles is a Monegasque citizen,” he said plainly.

“Yes, I happen to be aware of that fact, thank you very much,” Riley replied snarkily, her patience growing thin with this tiresome turn of events.

“You didn’t let me finish,” he pulled a tight line with his lips. “He’s a Monegasque citizen; therefore, he cannot enter the casino. They’re not allowed to gamble.”

“What? That’s ridiculous,” she dismissed. The more she thought of the metal bench under her, the more uncomfortable it grew. She needed to leave. Her dress and heels were already enough of a discomfort.

“It’s true. It’s the law,” Pierre continued, sitting up straighter with not a hint of humor in his voice. He was serious. “Government didn’t want all its citizens to spend all their money here. They’re not just checking IDs for age at the door, Riley. They’re checking for proof of overseas residency.” He waved a hand pragmatically. “Charles would be arrested if he did find a way in, and it’s not as if every person in this country doesn’t know his face either–it’s his home, and he’s famous.”

“Shit.” She hung her head a bit. Charles was already a last resort for her. What was she gonna do without him? “And where are my friends?” She muttered to herself.

Pierre must have heard her because he said, “You mean George and Lando?” He pressed further when Riley gave a nod. “Well–” he stopped himself, chuckling a bit, “I always had the impression that Lando was gay. And George always did enjoy taking care of him too much. If I had to guess, they’re probably ahem together, right now, if you know what I mean.”

Riley's jaw dropped to the floor, only giving Pierre cause for further laughter. This couldn’t be true. There was no way she was so wrapped up in her own life that she could have missed her two best friends getting together or even remotely liking each other in that fashion. 

But she had been rather focused on other things as of late… And all they ever talked about were her relationship issues… Wait, except that one time she was talking to Lando, and he mentioned that nothing happened with a girl he was talking with. But Lando should have already known that eating McDonald’s in a hotel room wasn’t a great date idea because it was something he did with Riley all the time as friends. Then it dawned on her. He was never trying in the first place! Oh my god, they are together!

Riley was lost deep in this thought when keys began to jangle outside the door. One of the security guards came through, but Riley was barely in this reality–astounded still by this revelation. She almost didn’t register the words coming out of the guard’s mouth.

“Riley Wolff, there’s someone here for you. You’re free to go.”

_____________________________________________________________

A/N: For those who are curious, this is actually a real law if you can believe it or not. Learning about it kind of inspired this whole fic, so I suggest looking it up if you want to know more :)

As always, let me know if you enjoyed it and would like to be added to the taglist for all future chapters! I really enjoy reading all your comments!!

Taglist: @leclercwifey @hihiroc511-blog @omnesmorimur3 @siovhanroy @charlesswife @chilifanacc @satanfinalgirl @nikolaisblog @91vhs @dr3lover @onlyonetifosi @chiliwhore @nataliambc @livster @celine-xox @mrsmaybank13 @peachiicherries @purplephantomwolf @leclerc13 @deepestkpoponanime @moonclaine

#charles leclerc x fem driver #f1 charles leclerc #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x female driver #cl16 #f1 oc #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #formula 1 #ferrari #scuderia ferrari #female driver #angst #angst with a happy ending #rivals to lovers #rivalry #george russell #charles leclerc imagine #imagine #enemies to lovers #charles leclerc series #charles leclerc story #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x oc #charles leclerc x oc #lando norris #i don't know how this ended up being a #george russell x lando norris #but here we are

[thekingscholar]

it's going to bother me til the end of my days if people walk out of Nope and think that Jordan Peele is saying people of color and animals are treated the same or highly similarly in the filmmaking industry. this is my own analysis of the film's messaging so there might be some stuff that i'm missing, but here goes:

i think the most important difference the film is trying to showcase is that wild animals are treated as spectacles to an audience, easily controllable and humanoid in personality, while people of color are either erased from the narrative or assimilated for white audiences.

firstly, let's look at how names and the lack of are used. the movie directly states that the first person to ever be on film is an unnamed black man. the black boy in the tv show Jupe was in was never named in the film either. when the white cast and crew refer to OJ's father, they use "the older one". however, the chimpanzee gets a name. the alien also gets a name. the actress asks what the horse's name is. these names, Gordy, Jean Jacket, and Lucky, are important to the "audience". it puts them in the spotlight and makes them individuals. they are easier to connect and empathize with, it makes people think that they are easier to train and be "domesticated". consider how the actors use Gordy's name to try to connect with him after he grew aggressive and Jupe uses Lucky's name to try to make him exit the box, versus OJ only using sounds when training and directing Lucky.

secondly, let's look at how the animals go against in-film audience expectation in comparison to how OJ, Emerald, and Angel do. the three named animals all go against those viewing them by reverting against their specific training. Gordy attacks the humans when he was trained to cooperate and listen to them, Jean Jacket breaks the cycle that Jupe set in terms of it's eating schedule by showing up early, and Lucky both reacts to seeing himself in the reflection when the crew thought he would stay still and then later doesn't leave the box like Jupe told him to. what OJ, Em, and Angel do to go against audience expectation is demand acknowledgement. the purpose of highlighting the unnamed horseman and child actor is to show that people of color, primarily black people, are overshadowed and erased of importance in the film industry. the trio's desire to capture the alien on camera and get the "Oprah shot", especially with Em's desire to achieve fame, is in stark contrast to the treatment of the black characters up to that point. the end of the film shows this change in Em's character to highlight how she now prioritizes her family and her well-being over any fame, but still allows her and OJ to both get the picture of the alien and survive to show that they did succeed, they aren't going to die or fade into obscurity like their predecessors.

the last thing i want to point out is where Jupe sits in this scenario and where my mention of assimilation comes from. i believe that Jupe is not meant to be a spectacle as an Asian son in a white family in the same way that Gordy is an animal in a human family, but that it's specifically highlighting how him being in a white family erases his personhood as a person of color. he is assimilated, culturally, into the family. it is the only way he gets acknowledgement by the audience, by downplaying his identity as an Asian person and playing into white roles. this is further highlighted with him as an adult. specifically: why is he dressed as (the modern idea of) a Western cowboy? why is he running a Western-themed show? why is his name Jupe? why was he, at the start of the film, attempting to take the entire Haywood ranch from OJ? it speaks to almost total assimilation and accommodation to white society. further, let's talk about his role in his show with Jean Jacket. the focus of it is not him, it's the alien and the horse. even when assimilated, the spotlight of the show is not pointed to him, it's pointed to the animals.

OJ's ability to understand Lucky and Jean Jacket's behaviors is because he understands what they are and how they need to be properly handled, not because he is treated the same way they are.

Nope is a thematically rich film, one full of subtext that doesn't completely hold your hand in telling you how to find it. i think the intricacies of what Jordan Peele is saying about people of color in the film industry in comparison to animals can easily be missed if you're coming at it from the wrong angle. but personally, i believe he's showing that wild animals cannot be trained to behave how people want them to, and people of color cannot be removed from the picture or fit into the "safe" little boxes that white people want them in. while there are similarities between these two things, they are not the same.

#nope 2022 #jordan peele #nope movie #SORRY THIS IS SO LONG!!!!!!!! but i had to say it.

[anonymoushouseplantfan]

By Camila Tominey,

“Just as I have always admired the seamless way the Duchess of Sussex’s truth has sometimes clashed with fact, so too do I have a grudging respect for Omid Scobie.

"Lest we forget, this is a man who spent a decade raking over celebrities’ private lives for US Weekly, only to brazenly tweet in 2021: “Privacy means freedom from *unauthorised* intrusion. It is the right to choose what you share with others and what you don’t. That’s it!

"At the time, such outbursts left journalists like me in disbelief. Wasn’t this the guy whose entire career was built on analysing snatched paparazzi images of the rich and famous? Imagine our incredulity when Scobie launched into repeated attacks on the very royal press pack he followed around like a puppy. I saw with my own eyes how he tried to muscle in on the rota system in a bid to gain access to the very members of the Royal family he now seeks to trash in his second book, Endgame, which hit bookshelves on Tuesday.

"You have to admire the brass neck of the bloke, you really do. I remember one incident on a royal tour when he was literally begging me to tell him the sources of my various royal scoops. And to think he’s now so reluctant to discuss his own! Who on Earth could they be, I wonder?

"Perhaps the most amusing thing about Endgame is how much this fearless journalist gets wrong in his tireless pursuit of Meghan’s truth. “Palace aides were racking their brains to remember the ‘five’ private secretaries who have come and gone from the Duchess of Cambridge’s office (there have been three). And contrary to the claim ‘you’d be unlikely to read about it in any British newspaper’, The Telegraph reported on exactly that staffing issue last week.

"Hey, but why let facts get in the way of a good story? In one passage, I am described as The Telegraph’s Royal Editor – which I’m not and never have been. Referring to a piece I had written about the now infamous dog bowl incident, in which I suggested that it showed how much love William has for his little brother that he felt the need to physically wrestle him to the ground, Scobie comments that I sound like the “excuses of domestic abusers everywhere.”

"Domestic abuse? Is that what we are calling sibling rivalry these days? We are now being asked to believe that it was a “translation error” that the names of two “alleged” royal racists had been left in the now-pulled Dutch copies of Endgame – even though they were completely absent from the English version. And we’re supposed to accept this narrative even after Scobie had bragged on US television that he knew the names of both alleged racists?

"You know, I really thought I’d seen it all when Meghan told Oprah, with a straight face, that the Archbishop of Canterbury had married them three days before their official wedding ceremony; that she’d had her passport confiscated only to jet off on multiple holidays; that Kate had made her cry and not the other way round.

"I thought I’d heard it all when “sources” close to these two multi-millionaires (who were still receiving a £700,000 allowance from the King after Megxit) revealed the couple were so “desperate” they had no choice but to sign deals with Netflix et al – even though we know they were speaking to streaming companies as early as 2018, a whole two years before they stepped down as “working” members of the Royal family.

"I thought I’d heard it all when Scobie, of all people, claimed to be both a champion of privacy and an accountable press, only to publish not one, but two completely unauthorised intrusions into the lives of the Royal family so lacking in balance as to be laughable. We must believe all victims of bullying, insists Scobie (who was comforted by Meghan when he copped the kind of flak we all get, day in and day out on social media), except when they’re accusing the Sussexes of it. You really couldn’t make it up."

Thanks!

[hairybirthdayclown]

i. asteroid notes

*(not a pro. just for fun)

• natives with Ceres[1] (garners agriculture, nurture, nourishment, food etc.) in scorpio might feel guilty for what they deem as 'overnourishment' towards themselves instilled by their caregivers. their guardians could've told them to use small amounts of their lotions, eat less portions of food etc. so that they don't run out too quickly because money was always unstable. from what i've noticed, these natives might be picky eaters & are consistent with the type of food that they eat.

• Nike[307] (shows where you're victorious) trine/sextile/conjunct the Sun/MC could have an easier time obtaining power over others. whether it be their influence on others or falling into positons of power like being a CEO of a company.

Mark Zuckerberg has Nike conjunct the Sun in his natal chart & he's a CEO. Emma Chamberlain has it conjunct her MC & she owns a company. despite both receiving backlash & other hindering factors.

• Pholus[5154] (represents a small catalyst of decisions yielding in massive results) in transit conjunct Mercury in your natal chart is where you should be careful with your words. nonetheless, the results could be positive like posting on your socials & becoming viral.

Mercury also rules over vehicles. during this transit, i decided to take a short walk & ended up getting hit by a car lmao.

• Eros[433] (IMO represents both love & passion towards yourself & externally) square Mercury could indicate that you don't flirt or don't know how to without cringing. these natives could also have trouble with words of affirmation towards themselves & feel uncomfortable when others flirt with them especially if they don't like them.

• i checked Iris[7] (represents intuition) in celebrities charts who said they've always knew they were going to be well-known and all 3 (Jim Carrey, Oprah Winfrey, Lil Nas X) have leo degrees on their Iris. very cool observation if i do say so myself :D

(i'm aware some of these are dwarf planets)

thanks for reading :)

15/05/23

#asteroids #asteroid eros #astrology notes #pholus #astrology #iris astrology #ceres

[lightcomingthroughthedarkness]

Honestly, what is wrong with british people, good lord. Why are they being such cu nts. SEVERAL members of the british royal family have written books, done interviews and shared information about what it's like being a royal and living that life.

Princess Diana literally told the whole world what it was like, about being mistreated, disrespected, used and abused. Sarah, the duchess of York did the same thing. Wrote a book, did interviews with Oprah and shared how difficult royal life is.

Charles himself wrote a book and did interviews about the mistreatment within the royal family.

We know about SEVERAL situations in which members of the royal family being so mistreated, they were not allowed to live their lives, marry who they wanted and were controlled by the institution.

BOTH William and Harry have spoken about difficult situations, relationships etc within the royal family.

The british press have broken stories about the mistreatment of royals, have also been part of that mistreatment etc.

There's been movies and tv shows SHOWING us how awful royal life is within that institution.

Yet.. when Harry shares information THAT WE ALREADY KNOW IS TRUE, now he is the villain and an enemy?! He's lying? He's awful? And you people are suddenly staning Charles and the rest... even though up until yesterday you didn't even want to see him become King?!

Harry has literally not done anything his own mother didn't do and you all praised her for it?! The british people complain for GENERATIONS about the royal family, how they are cold and heartless and out of touch and don't do anything real etc and when Harry is like "look guys, you're right, it's awful and it's hard" suddenly you're all "how dare you, royals are perfect!"

The british people are so *beeep*, they'd rather support PRINCE ANDREW, CHARLES AND CAMILLA then accept the NOTION that maybe Harry is literally just telling you the way it is and what people have been saying FOREVER???

Charles himself has shared stories from his childhood, how his parents where never emotionally there, WE HAVE VIDEO showing the shallow relationships between them, they are the same ones who forced Charles to marry someone he didn't even love.. yet when Harry says that Charles wasn't the best at times (due to his own traumas in childhood) suddenly Harry is an ungrateful person for saying Charles wasn't great? YOU LITERALLY KNOW FROM THE 123456 BOOKS AND INTERVIEWS DONE, THAT THAT IS TRUE THOUGH? This is the same man that was CRUEL to Diana!

But when Harry and Meghan actually open up and say "yeah, a lot of shit is actually true and harmful" you refuse to listen and instead choose to be racist scums because how dare they burst your delusional little bubble.

Literally. You're all such cu nts.

#the british royal family #prince harry #uk politics

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

The Sussexes🍋 have delivered little since signing w/the steamer in 2020

"Meghan and Harry’s $100 Million Netflix Deal Is a Hollywood Miss | Emily Smith Feb 28, 2024

When Prince Harry and Meghan Markle’s lucrative Spotify deal fell apart in 2023, Bill Simmons, The Ringer’s founder and managing director, was incensed.

“I wish I had been involved in the ‘Meghan and Harry leave Spotify’ negotiation,” Simmons, the head of podcast innovation and monetization at Spotify, which owns The Ringer, said on his self-titled show. “‘The F–king Grifters.’ That’s the podcast we should have launched with them.”

Simmons’ astonishing comments followed the collapse of the Montecito, California-based Duke and Duchess of Sussex’s $20 million deal with Spotify, signed in December of 2020. They delivered just 12 episodes of Markle’s “Archetypes” podcast.

But the Spotify contract paled in comparison to the estimated $100 million Netflix agreed in September 2020 to pay them, a deal which produced a documentary series “Harry & Meghan” two years later — and little else since then.

Aside from the docuseries, the exclusive Netflix deal produced the “Heart of Invictus” in August 2023, which covered Prince Harry’s games for wounded warriors, and “Live to Lead,” about inspiring world leaders and featured interviews with Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Gloria Steinem. That series premiered on Dec. 31, 2022.

Unproduced is an animated series created by Markle titled “Pearl,” which Netflix axed in May 2022 as part of a series of cutbacks. There is little else close to production.

What’s gone wrong? TheWrap spoke to multiple insiders who say the Sussexes have worn out their welcome in Hollywood with an iron-fisted desire for control, combined with a lack of experience. A revolving door of executives have departed the couple’s production company, Archewell, in the past two years while a long list of exhausted agents, producers and other industry veterans have stamped it with a “life’s too short” reputation.

The Sussexes founded Archewell Productions in the name of their four-year-old son, Archie. It includes their nonprofit charitable foundation, plus a for-profit arm focused on media projects.

“Everything with them was fraught and complicated because they wanted complete control,” one Hollywood creative who has worked with them, who declined to be identified, told TheWrap.

Another insider with knowledge of the management of Archewell agreed, saying the couple have proven to be stubborn to the point of alienating others.

“It appears that they just want what they want and won’t take advice,” the insider said.

“Taking on Harry and Meghan was a great coup for Netflix,” public relations and image guru Mark Borkowski told TheWrap. “It probably got a lot of eyeballs and subscriptions, but they [Harry and Markle] never delivered.”

Borkowski added that the clients he works with are closely watching their budgets and costs, but, given the former royals’ lifestyle, “The amount of income this pair has to raise is enormous.”

An insider with knowledge of the Netflix deal with Archewell said it is an “overhead agreement,” meaning not all the money would go to the Sussexes, but it also helps fund their staff, office and development fees.

Archewell and the Sussexes declined to comment for this story.

The former royal couple were initially a hot property. Before signing with Netflix, they also had discussions with Apple, Disney and NBCUniversal, The New York Times first reported. Meghan previously narrated a documentary about elephants for Disney+, and Harry collaborated with Oprah Winfrey on a docuseries about mental health for Apple TV+.

The “Harry & Meghan” docuseries, directed by Liz Garbus, was a legitimate hit, setting a record for the biggest debut for a Netflix documentary with a total 81.6 million hours watched on its first four days of availability, amounting to more than 28 million households watching.

The series was an intimate glimpse inside the Sussexes’ marriage and made headlines for their criticism of the British royal family for failing to support them, including allegations of racism and a narrative that the couple was essentially forced to leave England for the U.S.

But production was apparently difficult. One individual with knowledge of the series said dealing with the former royal couple was a “nightmare” as they were fiercely protective of their story.

“Harry and Meghan made the collaborative process very hard, to the point that there was no collaboration at all,” the insider said.

Other projects have not gotten off the ground.

Netflix and Markle announced “Pearl” with much fanfare in 2021. The animated series — co-executive produced by Markle and David Furnish — was to center on the adventures of a 12-year-old girl who finds inspiration in a variety of influential women throughout history. Netflix canceled it the following year while it was still in the development stage.

There have been reports Netflix bought the romantic Carley Fortune book “Meet Me at the Lake” for $1 million for the pair to produce into a movie. Other plans included a TV drama feminist retelling of Miss Havisham from Charles Dickens’ “Great Expectations” and a documentary about Prince Harry traveling solo in Africa. But these all seem far from getting off the ground.

Another Archewell insider told TheWrap that “Meet Me at the Lake” was “in active development,” but has not yet been cast. And Harry’s trip to Africa has not been scheduled. Some projects will be announced in the next few months, the insider added.

“They have a couple of unscripted things they’re working on,” Netflix’s chief content officer Bela Bajaria said at the “Next on Netflix” event on Feb. 1 of Markle and Harry, including “a movie in development” and “a [scripted] series.”

Bajaria emphasized that these projects were still in “early development,” which raises the question what exactly has been going on between Archewell and Netflix? COVID struck at the start of their deal, Markle went on maternity leave and then the writers’ and actors’ strikes halted production for much of last year. But with all that, it is it is remarkable how little the couple have actually made work for the streamer.

Reps for Netflix, which has also pulled back on its TV and film expenditure during the work stoppages, declined to comment. Harry and Markle do not have guild relationships so any non-U.S. productions would not have been affected.

Markle recently announced she’s joining forces with Lemonada Media — whose tag line is “Making Life Suck 🍋 Less” — for a new podcast, and it will also rerun her “Archetypes” podcast. The company, founded in 2019 by Jessica Cordova Kramer and Stephanie Wittels Wachs, is small and is not expected to be a big pay day for Markle.

The actress is still earning residuals from “Suits,” which recently found an entirely new audience on Netflix.

Archewell turnover: Meanwhile, there has been a dramatic executive turnover at Archewell — particularly those negotiating TV, film and media deals. Mandana Dayani, a human rights activist and business executive, was the president of Archewell from May 2021 to December 2022 and stepped down just days before Harry and Markle’s docuseries aired, with no reason offered. 

The company also lost its BAFTA-winning head of content Ben Browning in January 2023 after his contract expired. Browning, who worked on “Harry & Meghan” and the “Archetypes” podcast, returned to his former employer, FilmNation Entertainment as president of production.

Bennett Levine, their production manager, also left in January, as did Rebecca Sananes, Markle and Harry’s head of audio who left to work as a freelance writer and podcast producer after the “Archetypes” podcasts were concluded.

The company has also parted ways with their SVP of scripted television, “Fargo” producer Nishika Kumble, who lasted less than two years in the role.

“Meghan and Harry don’t have a quality team around them,” Borkowski said. “They drive this ship, they are in the wheelhouse. Whether you are the Obamas or Meghan and Harry, you have to defer to people who can really get the job done.

“They just need to sort out a proper production company, they need significant hires,” he added. “People who can actually develop scripts, wrangle talent.”

The Archewell insider insisted the couple has hired talented new executives. Tracy Ryerson was brought in as the new head of scripted content. She formerly worked at the production company behind “Peaky Blinders,” Caryn Mandabach Productions, and starred in a reality show titled “The Real L Word.” Former Disney+ executive Chanel Pysnik joined in 2021 as head of unscripted.

The Sussexes made a surprise appearance at the Jamaica premiere of the Bob Marley biopic “One Love” in late January, sparking speculation about a possible deal with the film’s distributor Paramount Pictures, especially given that they reportedly travelled with the company’s boss Brian Robbins — who is a neighbor in Montecito — via a Paramount private jet.

Yet parent company Paramount Global is strongly rumored to be up for sale, so it is unlikely to be a safe landing pad for the couple.

Last August it was announced that WME signed Markle to be repped by Endeavor CEO Ari Emanuel, Brad Slater and Jill Smoller. Archewell is also being repped by the agency, which didn’t comment to TheWrap.

“She is extremely ambitious and knows what she wants,” an industry insider told TheWrap of Markle’s discussions with the talent agency. “But there have been issues with executive turnover inside Archewell.”

In the meantime, The Sussexes need to make money to keep up their California lifestyle and their $14.65 million mansion. The U.K.’s Daily Mail reported that they made around $20 million from their tell-all documentary, while Harry made an estimated $15 million from his memoir “Spare.”

“I think possibly Netflix has dodged a bullet,” Borkowski said. “They know their content, they are data wonks, they know where the interest is. So they’ve got a very good idea or not whether there is a huge amount of excitement around Meghan and Harry.”

The viewing public may not be interested in a romantic movie from the Sussexes, he said. “They create a lot of column inches, but do people want content from them unless it is revealing something extraordinary [about themselves or the British royals]?” he said. “I don’t know how much more they can reveal.”

https://www.thewrap.com/

After Prince Harry and Meghan Markle pulled the plug on their $20 million podcast deal with Spotify this week, Bill Simmons, the streamer’s head of podcast innovation and monetization and CEO of The Ringer, called them “f—ing grifters” on the latest episode of his podcast.

The deal, which was struck in 2020, resulted in only one show, the one-season, Markle-hosted “Archetypes.”

“I wish I had been involved in the ‘Meghan and Harry’ leave Spotify negotiation, the f–ing grifters,” he told guest Joe House on Friday’s episode of “The Bill Simmons Podcast.” “I gotta get drunk one night and tell the story of the Zoom I had with Harry to help him with a podcast idea. It’s one of my best stories. F— the grifters.”

The Wall Street Journal reported on Thursday that Harry and Meghan would not receive the full $20 million from their payout. The two signed a deal with Netflix in 2020 to produce documentaries and series, and released their first show — a docuseries called “Harry & Meghan” — earlier this year.

Simmons, who founded sports and pop culture website The Ringer, sold it to Spotify in 2020 for $250 million. He’s in charge of several Ringer-branded podcasts at the podcast giant.

https://x.com/rBillSimmonsPod/status/1669665129393160192?s=20

#sussex sucks🍋 #megxit #netflix #spare us #meghan markle #worldwide privacy tour #like a spare #brf #money laundering #Tyler Perry #Bill Simmons #grifters #megflix bust #markled

[celticcrossanon]

I’m the anon who wrote that your post resonated with my observation/intuition. I thought I would send in a lengthy list of things I think may be going on behind the scenes. These things may “fit” with your reading:

1) Harry has massively betrayed William and Catherine. From the Oprah interview to the accusation of physical assault in his book to gossip/lies planted in the press, he has inflicted enormous pain on them and William has actually lost his brother. In addition to losing his mother in tragic circumstances, over the last few years he has grieved two grandparents and his brother.

2) Years ago, Charles wanted to find a solution to appease the Megxit half-in/half-out demands. William and the Queen were in agreement this was not viable and chose to preserve the monarchy over Harry’s feelings. Charles wants Harry back. He has very little to no real concern for William and Catherine. It’s only about him and what he envisioned his reign would look like. I also agree with another anon that there is a triangulation layer to this.

3) Action to neutralize the threat that is Harry was postponed while the Queen was ill and grieving. It was William’s expectation that action would be taken after her death. Instead, Charles has flipped the script and wants to reverse the Megxit decision.

4) Neutralizing Harry would involve releasing dirt from Harry’s past that would end him. Charles will not do it because he covered the dirt at the time, so his reputation would also suffer badly. William wants it all out. Charles wants to keep it all hidden. It troubles William because he doesn’t want to go along with further cover ups. He feels it threatens the monarchy and his reputation as well. This is out of his control, and it causes him stress.

5) Planning for the coronation brought many huge disagreements, with Charles using demands, guilt, and manipulation in private and in the press to try forcing William into agreement on Harry’s full involvement. There was a compromise, but Charles was not satisfied.

6) William accepts Charles making Camilla queen but he doesn’t like it. The whole situation is sordid, and he has had to go along with things he felt compromised his mother’s legacy. Don’t underestimate Camilla and her intentions.

7) Charles invited William to Birkhall to dine with him the night after the Queen’s death. He told him there he would be making him Prince of Wales immediately. This was intended as a “gift,” even though it benefitted Charles and withholding it would have been ludicrous. The gift had strings attached. He expected William to go along with him in all his plans and priorities. So whenever William resists, he can think or say “What more could you want? You’re ungrateful. I’ve given you everything!” That is not true, as he hasn’t given loyalty or support, but it’s how Charles sees things.

8) Those plans and priorities include increasing the popularity and public adoration of King Charles and Queen Camilla, and the expectation is that the Waleses will use their public image to aid in this effort. Charles wants them to join themselves to him publicly. He wants continual endorsement from William (the coronation oath wasn’t enough for him) as well as “happy family” PR. But Charles has a lot of skeletons in his closet and William is wise to keep their public images separate.

9) Aside from the expectation that William will aid Charles and Camilla’s PR, there’s also the expectation that he will support and help in bringing Harry back. What you said about Travalyst and Earthshot is unfortunately plausible. I also believe that Charles feels the Duchy of Cornwall offers enough funding for William to share with Harry. He supports his siblings with the Duchy of Lancaster and wants William to support Harry financially. William will not, for many reasons.

10) Charles is not happy about handing over the Duchy of Cornwall to William. He feels personally offended with every decision William makes that isn’t exactly as he did things.

11) There are some very messy courtiers in Charles’s household.

That’s about it. I’m sorry for the length. Charles is focused on his and Camilla’s popularity and legacy as well as his “darling boy” Harry’s return. There are currently enormous threats to the monarchy, and they concern and stress William very much, but Charles’s personal feelings, desires and ideals trump everything. “I am KING!”

Only time will tell if the monarchy survives this.

All alleged, my opinions, not fact, etc.

Hi Nonny,

Thank you for coming back and explaining all your thoughts. I agree with a lot of them. Harry has betrayed his family, Charles was appeasing them for quite some time (I'm not sure of the current state of affairs), the BRF has been effective in greyrocking Harry but have been reluctant to release dirt on him or on Meghan, Charles does seem to be focused on increasing his and Camilla's popularity, and he does seem to expect William to not only welcome Harry back but to support Harry and his family financially, etc and so on.

I think that the monarchy will survive this, if only because the alternative is so involved and a lot of work, but I do wonder what sort of reputation it will have by the time the crown is passed on to William. I think he will have to do a lot of work on repairing things before he can start to build his legacy as King, so I expect his reign to have a slow and rocky start, simply because of how it will be left by King Charles III. I hope I am wrong, but I just can't see King Charles passing on the feelings of respect and affection for the crown that he inherited from his mother, the late Queen. I don't see him as having her sense of duty, and it was her sense of duty that enabled the crown to be held in such solid respect and affection when she passed.

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Reconciliation with the Sussexes - has the Victim of Abuse a duty to forgive? by u/EleFacCafele

Reconciliation with the Sussexes - has the Victim of Abuse a duty to forgive? Is it Easter season, a time for reconciliation. As a practicing Christian, I had to face the issue of forgiveness in relation to my ex husband. I was a victim of extreme abuse, both physically, emotionally and financially from my ex. I spare you the details, they are appalling. Suffice to say that I found myself suffering from PTSD, in a foreign country, homeless, financially broke and with two devastated teenagers. No family and only one friend as support. All my past life I knew was wiped out in hours. The story of my survival, reinvention and thriving is too long to put it here.The main thing that kept me from having a mental breakdown in those dark years was my Christian faith. The issue of forgiving came very early and I decided to take the path of forgiveness. I forgave my ex in my soul and spirit but made no public mention of it, not even to my sons. Nobody knew about my process of forgiveness and the effort it took to truly forgive. It is a long process and takes time, especially in case of big trauma. But in the end I forgave him in my soul. My PTSD took 20 years to go away.Never told my ex : I forgive you. Why? Because he never asked for forgiveness. I took the liberty to forgive him in my soul but never told him, as his lack of repentance and remorse (typically narc) made telling him unnecessary. My message to the British Royals would be: it is good thing to forgive the Sussexes in your souls according to your Christian faith, but you have no obligation to tell them publicly as long they have no remorse, no repentance. No public display of reconciliation. Jesus tells us to forgive if there is remorse and forgiveness is asked. But in absence of remorse, repentance, guilt, reconciliation must not be offered. The Victim owes nothing to the Abuser, much less forgiveness and reconciliation. It the forgiveness exists, it should be strictly between the wronged party and God, nobody else needs to know about it. Abusers must not be told about being forgiven, as they will take this forgiveness as a sign or weakness, and the Victim as the guilty party. They will get a narc high out of reconciliation. Keep in mind the incident when Catherine the POW, sent flowers to Megsy Markle. The harpy made a public display on Oprah of Catherine being guilty . Narc on a high trip.Anyone who talks about the Royals having to reconcile with the Sussexes doesn't understand what forgiveness and reconciliation is all about. They are pearls not to be given to pigs, as they will destroy them. post link: https://ift.tt/8mvIo5L author: EleFacCafele submitted: April 01, 2024 at 08:24AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

#SaintMeghanMarkle #harry and meghan #meghan markle #prince harry #fucking grifters #Worldwide Privacy Tour #Instagram loving bitch wife #Backgrid #voetsek meghan #walmart wallis #markled #archewell #archewell foundation #megxit #duke and duchess of sussex #duke of sussex #duchess of sussex #doria ragland #rent a royal #clevr #clevr blends #lemonada media #archetypes with meghan #invictus #invictus games #Sussex #WAAAGH #american riviera orchard #EleFacCafele

[humansofnewyork]

(11/13) “I’m not going to lie, man. I haven’t been an angel. I slipped. During the pandemic: alone in my room all day, no job, collecting food stamps, another year of my life down the drain. I slipped. But each time I’d think of Obama: how they ridiculed this man, and crucified him, for giving opportunities to people like me. What kind of payback would that be to him? I thought of every brother and sister in prison, waiting for their own Obama moment. What would that do to their chances? I knew it couldn’t just be about me. I’ve been there; I know where that leads. When it’s about me, I lose. After six months the halfway house wanted to discharge me into the NYC shelter system; I didn’t know what to do. It would have broken me. It was another inmate that suggested I meet with Iris. She was a case manager at Mt. Sinai hospital, working out of a 6x6 office. Nothing on the walls. I went there wanting to hate her, but I couldn’t. She was like Oprah: her voice was calm and comforting. We started going over my health questionnaire, and my entire history was in there. She wanted to know everything. No judgement. She just seemed interested; that’s all. Afterward she told me her own story. She’d gone to prison for her boyfriend’s drugs. Sixteen years; almost the exact same time as me. Now she was raising five kids. Youngest daughter died of cancer. Yet here she was: working 80 hours a week, in a 6x6 box, helping other people. She was one of the givers. Iris got me an apartment. She arranged my hip surgeries. She got me into a job training program. In the program they teach you to be up front about your history: tell them before they ask. I had a whole speech memorized. I scheduled six different in-person interviews, and six different times I couldn’t go inside. But the seventh time I made myself do it. I walked in those doors. The manager that day was Raven Peters, that big ole peckerwood. I said: ‘My name is John Gargano. Before we begin, I want you to know there’s a 15-year gap on my resume, and this is why.’ He wouldn’t let me finish. He said: “John, I don’t care about any of that. We care about two things here: how you treat our guests, and how you make them feel.”

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

If the rumored Met Gala drop did indeed happen in 2018, right before the wedding, then the (rumored) Givenchy dressing room incident could have also been why. No way Anna wouldn’t have heard about that quickly.

I hadn't even thought of that!

Yes, absolutely, 100%. Anna Wintour knows everyone and she absolutely would've heard about what went down at Givenchy. Edward Enninful too. And now that you mention it, I wonder if others in British fashion also heard about it and that may have affected who sent clothes to Meghan. I imagine so - fashion is a small world too. But how many of them believed Meghan when she said it was just wedding stress and she's not really like that. We know Enninful got somehow duped, since he looked pretty chummy with her in all the behind-the-scenes stuff for the September edition she did.

Anyway. For all the new-to-royal watching anons (and a refresher for everyone else!), this is is the the lowdown on the "Givenchy incident."

In November 2018, Camilla Tominey/The Telegraph published a story that Meghan made Kate cry during the bridesmaid fittings. (This is the original article, behind a paywall; I'll post excerpts below the cut. This is the Daily Mail's version of it.)

In March 2021, Oprah asked about this incident in the interview and Meghan revealed that "the reverse happened"; that Kate had made Meghan cry. Later on social media, Camilla doubled down on her sources that it was Meghan who made Kate cry.

About two weeks after oprah, Empress received the original Givenchy tea about Meghan's beyond-bridezilla behavior for the wedding. (Also, this is the post we're referring to by "Givenchy Anon" or "Givenchy tea".)

In July 2022, Tom Bower confirmed the bridezilla behavior and the bridesmaid dress fitting incidents in Revenge. Here is the Daily Mail's report.

In January 2023, Harry wrote about the bridesmaid dress fitting in Spare. This the Daily Mail's article about Harry's version of events. Camilla Tominey again doubled down on her sources via social media. (Also around this time, there was a rumor that Camilla had seen the actual text messages of Meghan gloating that she had made Kate cry and when Kate came to apologize, Meghan had slammed the door in her face after taking the flowers.)

Then the Daily Mail tracked down the tailor who's at the center of the bridesmaid dress fitting r2ow. That story is here. (Here is the exclusive behind-the-paywall version, which was the first story written about the tailor.)

Then in December, Sassy got some follow-up tea about Meghan's behavior around the wedding. The wedding tea is about 2/3s of the way down.

Kate and Meghan: Is the royal sisterhood really at breaking point? by Camilla Tominey, 26 Nov 2018

It was only a matter of time before all eyes would be on Kate and Meghan and how well they did – or didn’t – get on. The royal sisterhood has not been under this much scrutiny since a young Princess Diana and an excitable Fergie joined the household in the Eighties.

But the talk of a growing froideur between Kate and Meghan really ramped up following rumours of an apparent falling out between the pair in the run up to the Sussexes’ wedding in May. The Telegraph has spoken to two separate sources who claim Kate was left in tears following a bridesmaids dress fitting for Princess Charlotte. “Kate had only just given birth to Prince Louis and was feeling quite emotional,” said one insider. The incident happened around the time Meghan was reported to have also “upset” the Queen by asking to wear an emerald tiara instead of the one offered by the 92-year-old monarch. It came after a book by veteran royal journalist Robert Jobson described Harry as “petulant and short-tempered” in the build up to the Windsor Castle wedding. He allegedly told staff with a raised voice: “What Meghan wants, Meghan gets” and when reports reached the Queen, she asked to see her grandson privately and “put him firmly in his place”, Mr Jobson wrote. Rumours of any lingering ill feeling between the Queen and Meghan appear wide of the mark, however. The two women, who share a love of dogs, enjoyed each other’s company at their first solo engagement together in Cheshire in June - even if Meghan did inadvertently break protocol by not wearing a hat. And earlier this month the Queen entrusted Meghan to “look after” Elke Budenbender, wife of the German president during the Remembrance commemorations in a move which saw her separated from the Duchess of Cambridge who was on an adjacent balcony with the Queen and the Duchess of Cornwall. Despite being welcomed into the family fold, the attitude “below stairs” has apparently not been universally positive, with some giving the relationship “five years”. 

#ask #brf

[sassyfrassboss]

Is it true that H has said somewhere that he ‘knew’ about the conversation because someone told him? (That he wasn’t there to begin with)

Here is the Oprah transcript from that part, first with Meghan and Oprah:

Meghan: But I can give you an honest answer. In those months when I was pregnant, all around this same time . . .  so we have in tandem the conversation of ‘He won’t be given security, he’s not going to be given a title’ and also concerns and conversations about how dark his skin might be when he’s born.

Oprah: What?

Meghan: And . . . 

Oprah: Who . . . who is having that conversation with you? What?

Meghan: So . . . 

Oprah: There is a conversation . . . hold on. Hold up. Hold up. Stop right now.

Meghan: There were . . . there were several conversations about it.

Oprah: There’s a conversation with you . . ? 

Meghan: With Harry.

Oprah: About how dark your baby is going to be?

Meghan: Potentially, and what that would mean or look like.

Oprah: Whoo. And you’re not going to tell me who had the conversation?

Meghan: I think that would be very damaging to them.

Oprah: OK. So, how . . . how does one have that meeting?

Meghan: That was relayed to me from Harry. Those were conversations that family had with him. And I think . . . 

Oprah: Whoa.

Meghan: It was really hard to be able to see those as compartmentalised conversations.

Oprah: Because they were concerned that if he were too brown, that that would be a problem? Are you saying that?

Meghan: I wasn’t able to follow up with why, but that — if that’s the assumption you’re making, I think that feels like a pretty safe one, which was really hard to understand, right? Especially when — look, I — the Commonwealth is a huge part of the monarchy, and I lived in Canada, which is a Commonwealth country, for seven years. But it wasn’t until Harry and I were together that we started to travel through the Commonwealth, I would say 60 per cent, 70 per cent of which is people of colour, right?

Oprah: Mm-hmm.

Meghan: And growing up as a woman of colour, as a little girl of colour, I know how important representation is. I know how you want to see someone who looks like you in certain positions.

Oprah: Obviously.

Meghan: Even Archie. Like, we read these books, and now he’s been — there’s one line in one that goes, ‘If you can see it, you can be it’. And he goes, ‘You can be it!’ And I think about that so often, especially in the context of these young girls, but even grown women and men who, when I would meet them in our time in the Commonwealth, how much it meant to them to be able to see someone who looks like them . . . 

Now with Harry:

Oprah: Well, what is particularly striking is what Meghan shared with us earlier, is that no one wants to admit that there’s anything about race or that race has played a role in the trolling and the vitriol, and yet Meghan shared with us that there was a conversation with you about Archie’s skin tone.

Harry: Mm-hmm.

Oprah: What was that conversation?

Harry: That conversation I’m never going to share, but at the time . . . at the time, it was awkward. I was a bit shocked.

Oprah: Can you . . . can you tell us what the question was?

Harry: No. I don’t . . . I’m not comfortable with sharing that.

Oprah: OK.

Harry: But that was . . . that was right at the beginning, right?

Oprah: Like, what will the baby look like?

Harry: Yeah, what will the kids look like?

Oprah: What will the kids look like?

Harry: But that was right at the beginning, when she wasn’t going to get security, when members of my family were suggesting that she carries on acting, because there was not enough money to pay for her, and all this sort of stuff. Like, there was some real obvious signs before we even got married that this was going to be really hard.

Oprah: So, in conclusion, if you’d had the support, you’d still be there?

This is the Oprah interview. He admits the conversation was with him. So if he is saying something else other places then it's a lie...

[anonymoushouseplantfan]

They seem to assume a lot plant... Harry assumed because he had intense media coverage his children would (not counting his mother was freaking Princess Di and then he was the grieving boy behind the Coffin obvs) and Meghan assumes because she's famous people should just want to work with her regardless if she has a horrible reputation in public and behind the scenes.

They apparently just assumed they'd leave the RF call them racist and everyone would belive them and then assumed they could make all these false claims and no one would fact check and they assumed people would offer them work just because they exist

It's nuts.

During Megxit Meghan supposedly told him that “they would always be royal.” They also felt the Queen didn’t have a monopoly on royalty or service.

They did assume they would keep those royals privileges after leaving. And they did for a while. No one fact-checked the Oprah interview, which was full of lies and inconsistencies. Perry funded them for months while they got their act together in LA. Netflix, Spotify and Random House showered them with money.

The grift was successful for a long time. It’s just that it’s running out now. They’ve exhausted the universe of possible victims.