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fanficrocks · 12 days

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A friend in need.

An Inspector Morse fan fic. Also on AO3.

@chrumblr-whumblr - written for May whump prompt list (#26. Wiping away tears)

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A callout at 7 pm on a Saturday! While callouts at outlandish hours were no rarity for a detective sergeant in the Thames Valley CID, this took the cake in Robbie Lewis’ mind. Too early to hand off to the night shift, but late enough to ensure their Saturday evening (and to be honest, their entire weekend) was shot. No wonder Val and the kids had shared venomous glares when the phone rang.

Ten minutes later, his irritation had given way to concern when he could not raise his governor DCI Morse on the phone. Unable to wait any longer, he decided to drive over to Morse’s house and pick him up en route to the crime scene, which of course had to be at the other end of town. After asking the desk sergeant to continue trying Morse’s number, he set off hoping the DCI would be waiting for him when he got there.

To his surprise, Morse’s house was dark and the Jaguar nowhere to be seen. Could Morse have forgotten that they were on call? That was very unlike the man whose mind truly resembled a steel trap far more than anything more mundanely human. And reasons aside, just where was he? Lewis rapidly ran through a mental list of places was likely to visit on a weekend evening… With no operatic performances or even major choir recitals scheduled, it was a very short list - a handful of local pubs, the residence of Dr Max Debryn, and that of Morse’s sister Joyce. And the second was easily eliminated as the ME had received the same callout and would have informed the desk sergeant had Morse been with him.

It took Lewis some 20 minutes to get to Joyce’s house, having stopped at 3 pubs along the way to check if Morse was at any of those. Pulling up outside the neat semi, he was relieved to see the red Jaguar parked in front of the house although his guv’s familiar figure was nowhere to be seen against the brightly lit, uncurtained windows. Perhaps Morse was deeper inside the house.

His relief evaporated though when there was no answer to his ring at the doorbell, nor to his repeated knocking and calling. Was the man unwell? Or had he been attacked by a burglar and was lying unconscious somewhere?

Finding that the front door yielded when he turned the knob, he stopped only to grab a golf umbrella from the hall hatstand as an impromptu weapon before rushing in and continuing to call out to Morse. Despite the continued silence, his instincts insisted that the house was not empty… it just did not have the physical and emotional stillness characteristic of dwellings entirely devoid of human presence.

Calming himself sufficiently to search methodically, he went deeper into the house, eliminating one downstairs room after another before doing the same with the first floor. He was running out of options for places to search as he walked back down the stairs, when he noticed a faint line of light in the wall opposite the foot of the stairwell. Closer inspection revealed a tight-fitting door covered entirely in the same wallpaper as the rest of the wall, rendering it practically invisible unless one knew it was there, or unless the light was angled just right to shine on the latch.

Listening silently at the door, he realised there were vague, muffled sounds emanating from the other side. Locating the latch, he quietly opened the door, glad that it did not squeak, and stepped onto the top landing of a flight of stairs leading into the basement level. Silently descending the stairs, he found himself in a study-cum-playroom, now littered with packing boxes, tape, and mostly cleared shelves of books and music. Amidst this chaos, sat Morse - cross-legged on the floor with a partially filled box beside him, head buried in his hands as his shoulders shook with half-suppressed sobs.

Shock combined with a feeling of having trespassed unforgivably held Lewis silent for a minute. But he was constitutionally incapable of walking away from a fellow human being in such distress, least of all one he had worked with for half a dozen years now, and had come to not just respect, but also developed an affection for - at least as far as that curmudgeon allowed.

Quickly crossing the floor, he knelt down beside Morse and gently placed a hand on his guv’s shoulder. There was no response for a moment before he felt the older man stiffen slightly. Half expecting his hand to be pushed away, he nonetheless stayed where he was and waited, letting the single point of physical contact do the talking for him. After what felt like an eternity but was likely no longer than two or three minutes, Morse raised his head. Gazing into those tear-drenched blue eyes, Lewis felt suckerpunched. Whatever could have hit his guv so hard?

“Sir…”

“They left this behind - all of Marilyn’s photos as a baby and a little girl. Moved away to Australia and left this with all the other stuff needing sorting. As though they have already forgotten her.”

The rights and wrongs of Morse’s conclusions could wait, thought Lewis. The more important thing now was to coax him out of the basement if possible. The man was shaking as much from cold as emotion, and would do better in a warmer spot.

Taking heart from Morse’s uncharacteristic docility, he tightened the hand on his guv’s shoulder until it was unmistakably a supportive squeeze, then gently wiped away the overflowing tears from the luminous blue eyes. As he saw awareness return to those eyes, he pressed his handkerchief into Morse’s hand, and with a final squeeze of his shoulder, stood up and moved away a little.

Thinking to give Morse a little privacy to recover his composure, he started leafing through the books left in the bookcase, sorting them into neat piles by topic. Until he chanced upon further photo albums mixed among the books. His job required him to regularly nose into the private lives of murder victims in the quest for justice, but this - now - felt unforgivable. Joyce and her family were victims, but they no longer needed justice now; they needed their privacy protected so they could come to terms with the tragedy of Marilyn’s suicide and rebuild their lives.

Gathering the albums in one arm, he turned back towards Morse. His guv looked a little more composed, but no less wretched; and Robbie was not sure how he could broach the callout they were supposed to be answering any moment now. Just then, Morse turned back to the album he had placed at the top of the box he had been packing, and picked it up again.

“How can they forget so soon? Move on so easily like she… just wasn’t?”

“Why do you think that, Sir?”

“What else can I think when they left this album behind? The one with all her photos as a baby and a little girl? Shouldn’t this have been the one thing they would keep close?”

“It could have been an oversight, Sir. After everything they have been through over the last few months, I would not expect them to be fully organised, would you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I was looking through the bookcase… I hope you don’t consider it an intrusion… just trying to give you some space. Anyway, there are several other albums left here - see.”

As Morse took the proffered albums and started flipping through them, Lewis took a better look around the room and the partially packed boxes. Sure enough, the one Morse had been working on before his emotions got the better of him was labelled “Ship to Joyce in Australia” while others were labelled “library donation”, “charity shop”, and “discard”. Seeing that many of the latter boxes were full, Lewis started closing them up ready to tape down and sorting them into neat stacks. A deep sigh had him turning back towards Morse a few minutes later.

“You are right, Lewis. They must have been even more disturbed than I had thought. These albums - they include photographs from their engagement and wedding, and both of Joyce’s pregnancies. They would not have left those behind… not if they were in a normal frame of mind, I suppose.”

“Losing a child… well, that is every parent’s worst nightmare, isn’t it? Against every law of nature. Can’t expect normal after that.”

“A parent’s worst nightmare. Is that how you see it, Lewis?”

“Dunno how it can be anything else. Every time we come across a case involving kids, all I can think of is that in another world, it could have been my lass or lad.”

“And do you hug them when you get home after such cases?”

“Always. And I hope they will continue to let me.”

Morse stacked the albums neatly - the one he had been looking at, and the others Lewis had handed him - before placing them in the box he had been packing and starting to tape it down. As he snapped off the last of the tape and stuck it down neatly, he sensed Lewis come around to stand next to him. Before he could stoop to move the now sealed box, the younger man reached for it.

“Allow me, Sir. Can’t have you throwing your back out, not with this callout we need to get to as soon as we can.”

“Don’t fuss, Lewis!”

But as they turned off the light and closed the basement door, then locked up preparatory to leaving, Morse briefly placed a hand on his long-suffering sergeant’s shoulder in silent thanks. He then led the way to the Jaguar, instructing Lewis to leave his car and brief him as they drove together to the crime scene.

#fanfics #fanfiction #inspector morse #itv endeavour #endeavour morse #robbie lewis #emotional hurt/comfort

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dru-plays-starbound · 24 days

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hey!! so about that yt playlist,

Yes! The playlist! with the SB vibes! that I totally didn't forget to share or anything, honest, guv 😅️

(Thank you for reminding me.)

So this is the original:

youtube

Which is all smushed into one video with no chapters.

And this is the one I made into a 'proper' playlist from it:

Because I like to scrobble the music I listen to, and the tracks need to be individual to do that.

I hope you enjoy it, and that it scratches that SB vibes itch.

#starbound #starbound adjacent anyway #music #answered ask #kozonaut

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stylecouncil · 8 months

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honest guv I weren’t even there

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seapiglet · 10 months

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I have nothing against Neilman as a person (honest, guv!) or even as a writer - I've enjoyed a few of his books! But ngl the way people talk about him on this site, and the way he shamelessly laps it up, makes me do a little sick in my mouth.

#stop deifying this man!#he's just a guy!#relax!!

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itsmemateinnit · 1 year

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Whitechapel series 1 press pack

Phil Davis is Detective Sergeant Ray Miles

Phil compares his character Miles to a football manager pushing his team hard to get the best results.

“He’s well respected among his team and feels he’s got a good working relationship with them,” explains Phil. “Miles is an old school, old fashioned copper. He walks the same streets as his men but he’s the boss, he calls the shots. He demands respect, feels he’s earned it and they are happy to call him Guv.

“He’s quite tough and pushes them like a football manager; always asking for more and bringing out the best in them.”

Talking about his character Phil continues: “Miles is very hot-headed but he is a good copper. He’s one of those guys who always jumps in feet first, certain he’s got the right guy even when he hasn’t. His suspects are perfectly plausible but…

“Miles sees himself as an experienced man at the top of his game, very much the boss of his crew. He knows his patch and loves his work. It’s a hard thing being a policeman. He’s dedicated but is not averse to bending the rules a little if need be. But he is most definitely on the side of the angels.”

In Whitechapel Detective Sergeant Miles heads up his own East End detective squad, used to dealing with the seedier side of life in inner London. So when a shiny new Inspector arrives to head up a murder investigation they are not waiting with open arms.

Says Phil: “Chandler is a good looking, middle class, fast tracker. This guy has promotion tagged on him. He sees the station and the job as a stop along his route to the top. He is much resented by Miles and his team who feel that when the going gets tough he’ll disappear. But he doesn’t. Miles learns that despite his smooth skin and cut glass accent he’s as dogged and determined as Miles is himself.

“So springs up a mutual respect. It takes him a long time to get there but Chandler turns out to be alright. In fact that was one of the most interesting aspects of playing the role; the relationship between Miles and Chandler. They are a mixed bag but end up liking and respecting each other and backing each other up.

“This unlikely alliance stops this being just another cop story.”

The case involves a copy cat Ripper killer stalking the East End. How did the investigation affect Miles?

“These are brutal crimes,” says Phil, “not crimes of passion but vicious, premeditated murders. When Miles and Chandler are in the morgue with the pathologist describing the extent of the victims’ injuries, he is shocked and angry and frustrated.

“These officers take it very personally because unlike most cases they know what will happen next and to some extent the pattern of the killer because it has happened before. They feel failing to stop it makes them responsible in some way. It is very close to them and makes things very uncomfortable. The case gets under their skin which is unusual.”

“Rupert and I were friends from filming North Square together years ago so I really looked forward to working with him again. It gave us a head start on the relationship between Miles and Chandler.”

Many of the pivotal scenes were filmed at night close to the original crime scenes.

Says Phil: “Some of the places that were so down-at-heel in the 1900s are very swish now; changed beyond all recognition. When we did the Ripper tour we ended up standing on traffic islands to be near the exact spot where a murder took place.”

“It’s quite a dark, atmospheric piece but the director, SJ, had a real clarity. She would tell us exactly what she wanted, would never encumber us with redundant instructions. She has a good visual sense and knew exactly how to play it.”

And did Phil begin filming Whitechapel with an insight into the Ripper theories?

“To be honest I had never taken much interest in it. It always seemed to me that it could have been anybody. There was no forensic evidence back then and London was full of itinerants; sailors, merchants, people passing through and prostitutes on every corner. It wouldn’t have been difficult to carry out the killings.”

#whitechapel itv #whitechapel #text

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jariktig · 1 year

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Rule: Tag 10 people you want to get to know better

Tagged by @daddymus-papatron - honoured!

Relationship status: wedded, bedded, in cahoots & content

Favourite colour: depends - grey/black/purple/blue for clothes; rainbows or monochrome with interesting art for home decor; probably others in different contexts

Something I want right now: to be able to unwind the problem in the fic I am definitely going to finish, honest guv

Song stuck in my head: Gosport Nancy - Bellowhead. Fortunately I’m fond of this one, so things could be worse.

Three favourite foods: Only three? Good bread, smelly cheese, mangoes

Last song I listened to: Hornpipe from Handel’s Water Music - we were looking for a track for my offspring to choreograph to, and it has the right kind of structure.

Last thing I googled: Boar skull helmet - looking for refs for a piece of art someone is very kindly doing for me. I ended up with a bear skull but hopefully it’ll be close enough.

Dream trip: Iran/Iraq/Jordan/Syria/Egypt - all the archaeological stuff I’ve always wanted to see & never had time to. Climate a bit of an issue though, as I don’t cope well with heat.

No pressure tags: @megatron-fucks, @quetzalpapalotl, @bitegore, @chromlita, @lord-squiggletits, @dumbass4321, @martintheland-lockedmartian, @heliopauseentertainments.

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thessalian · 2 years

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Thess vs Distrust

So here it is in a nutshell:

I DON’T TRUST THAT DOGFUCKER.

So Johnson has resigned, or so all the news outlets say. Except ... did any of them actually listen to his speech? Do any of them actually know or care how a resignation happens? No; first, he hasn’t resigned until he’s gone and spoken to the Queen, and he has yet to do that. Second, his speech itself said “Well, the Conservative Party wants a new leader but I’ll keep working until they find one”. THAT IS NOT HOW THIS SHIT WORKS. Or it’s not supposed to be. He claims to be being a ‘caretaker PM’ until the leadership contest is done, but honestly, his ‘resignation speech’ sounded more like a campaign speech. ANd given his track record, how the fuck does anyone actually trust that he won’t find a way to weasel out of his statement by October?

As to his saying, “No new policies until the new Tory party leader (and thus PM) gets elected”? Again, how the fuck do we trust him? This is the man who illegally prorogued Parliament to try to force through a shitty Brexit deal (I mean, it went through anyway, but seriously). This is the man who has not told the truth a single fucking time he’s been in office!

I’m sorry, but when fifty-nine people resign over your horseshit, and your only baby step is to say, “I’ll resign in a few months, honest, guv” ... HOW DO YOU BELIEVE HIM?!?

Thankfully, at least a couple of the Tory MPs ... don’t, really. They’re telling everyone to rush the selection process and hopefully get him out by August. There’s a lot of damage that someone can do in 1-2 months.

Also ... honestly, the leadership candidates are all underwhelming at best. They were picked for their loyalty to Johnson rather than their expertise. This is why we have a Culture Secretary who doesn’t know how Channel 4 is funded and really does not understand the internet despite being instrumental in setting policy about it (who also says that she became a MP because “God wanted me to be one”. NO I AM NOT KIDDING). Each and every one of them has some kind of scandal or bit of fiddle-fuckery. The Conservative party is rotten right down to the core now. And it’s all Johnson’s fault.

And seriously, yet again we’re in a position where we have no say in our Prime Minister, because we elect the party, not the person. And yes, I will be celebrating as hard as anybody else if the rumpled pile of medical waste actually leaves without fucking things up worse. Hell, even if he just actually leaves. However, I do not fool myself that this is going to get any better. Honestly, the way things are right now, I expect them to get worse. We’re not going to have Johnson anymore, no; we’re going to have one of his pets.

So ... just take the news statements saying that he’s resigned with a grain of salt, okay?

#Thess on politics

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