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[londongeneticist]

@xxvainqueur

I don’t think I ever really learned how to do it properly. Relationships. Intimacy. Telling people how I feel.

[londongeneticist]

[londongeneticist]

@thebestmanwon

Working with Allison- she never makes a mistake. It was a fast train to get on, it took me awhile. The thing is once you get on you don’t ever want to leave. I really enjoyed it. I really enjoyed Allison. I remember from working with her, she’s crazy brave and is just completely in the moment, she would do different things every take that you might only see once… Allison told me early on, early early on, maybe like the third day, “They’re gonna kill you.” And I said, “WHAT?!” She said, “No, they’re gonna kill you. We’re getting along too well. They’re gonna kill you.” She’s fun, isn’t she? (…) Sometimes the chemistry is just more easy than it should be. I just really enjoyed working with her. Whatever I thought it was in the beginning, it turned out to be something much deeper and more special than that. One of the great gifts of Allison’s as an actress is that she’s a chameleon. She’s got a daunting range. She can do anything. – Mark Harmon

[londongeneticist]

HOW TO TRIM YOUR POSTS USING THE BETA TEXT EDITOR!!

as many of you know, a lot of us in the rpc on here are struggling to actually do what we want on here ( which is roleplay ) due to the recent events of the staff forcing us to use the beta text editor. now while the beta text editor does have some rather nifty features (such as adding color to our text now), there isn’t a way to outright cut our posts making it nothing short of tedious and annoying. that’s why i’m making this post right now.

Keep reading

[londongeneticist]

continued from here || @xxvainqueur​

Whenever Thatcher opens her mouth, it’s always a roller-coaster, but he can usually tell where she’s going with whatever it is. Usually. For the life of him, Camden has no idea where this conversation is supposed to lead. What would being hers even entail? Sharing her with Jack? That’s a laugh and a half. The concept of it being serious is considered and disregarded in the same second, choosing to interpret it as a joke regardless of whatever she intended it to mean. “Aye, that I am,” he playfully intones, lifting a hand to muss her hair up a bit.

“Whatever will ye do with your property?”

Had she…had she actually said that out loud? A string of curses rush through her brain, though thankfully none of them are actually uttered this time. Thatcher glanced down to her almost full drink – no, there was no blaming this on the alcohol. He knew she could hold her liquor better than that anyway. She hadn’t been prepared for the woman to approach Cam so brazenly and apparently the woman hadn’t been prepared for Thatcher to stake her claim either. The only saving grace perhaps is that her face doesn’t feel warm -- she’s not blushing. Maybe she could play this off after all. 

She rolls her eyes at him, reaching up to shove his hand away and fix her hair. “And don’t you forget it.” 

“I’m feeling generous tonight. We can do whatever you want to do tonight.” 

[londongeneticist]

xxvainqueur​:

American women are confusing as hell. One second, you’re supposed to play nice and ask permission–two things he’s always detested doing in the first place anyway–and the next, you’re supposed to take what you want without receiving the green light. How annoying. “I didn’t say that because that’s not what I meant.” Initially, he merely watches with disapproval as she pulls away, but once the blonde’s putting on the same damn shirt he had tugged off moments before, he gives in. Albeit reluctantly.

“Non.” The intention was to follow that up with an instruction to leave it off, but apparently talking is going to get him in trouble today. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he reaches for her wrist to tug her closer to himself once more. “Moumoune. Stop being difficult. I want. This. And you.” Slipping his hand down a bit to turn hers over, he kisses her palm. It almost hurts to be so gentle. Almost. “I want you.”

Hell, she’d have to try this more often if it meant she was treated to Remy’s softer side. Was it always what she wanted? Absolutely not – some days there was nothing she wanted more than to banter and bicker with the Frenchman about any little things but this? This was a refreshing change of pace to their normal cat and mouse chase. Thatcher lets him pull her closer, even sinking a bit deeper into his hold and against him as he speaks. Despite herself, she almost believes the sweetness is sincere. Almost. Perhaps she could suspend her disbelief long enough to actually indulge in it just this once. 

The shirt slides free from her other hand and she brings them both up to card gently through his hair, meeting his gaze fully. They’d danced around moments like these for months; she wondered if he’d know the expression ‘could cut the tension with a knife.’ She’d ask but didn’t want to give him any ideas. No, for now, she’d simply offer a challenge since that was exactly what she did best. 

“So show me.”

[londongeneticist]

xxvainqueur​:

@thatchergreene liked for a starter

Usually, their informal clothing exchange goes smoothly. Today isn’t turning out to be usual at all. Slutty clothing is her norm, sure, but not like t h i s. “Uh…” Lifting the tank top Thatcher had borrowed into the air, she lifts a brow at the nearly linear tear positioned right down the middle. It takes everything she has not to burst out into laughter, and to distract herself away from doing just that, she tosses it underhandedly in the blonde’s general direction.

“Did you get in a fight with a goddamn lion?”

She KNEW  that Callie would never let her live this down; she’d come prepared for the probable months of teasing that would accompany this particular exchange. At the time of the incident, to whom the tank top had belonged hadn’t even crossed her mind. It wasn’t until the following morning when realizing she wouldn’t be able to wear it home that she was reminded. Thatcher pursed her lips, doing her best not to betray any of her amusement and excitement at the memory, as she caught the torn garment. 

“You could say that.” If Samson was going to make a habit of literally tearing her clothes off, it might be a better idea to just have Callie take her shopping than have to continue returning them in this state. “I’d be more than happy to replace it.” 

[londongeneticist]

continued from here || @polymusepotion​​

“I was sent this today. And I’m not sure… what to do with it.”

He tossed down the file on Thatcher. On his Queen. And, as surprised as he was when he opened it, it wasn’t pictures of them. It was pictures of her in various acts that would make her be considered unfit to be queen. “The note says hold on to these for me.”

“Thatch. This is easily blackmail material. But it doesn’t seem like this person is making a threat. It’s like…” He shook his head. “What the fuck have you gotten yourself into. I thought… we had no secrets.”

“Not sure what to do with what–” 

She scrambled to pick them back up, gathering them to her chest so even she wouldn’t have to look at them. All it took was a quick flash of white powder and her own hunched over outline to know exactly what was in these photographs. With shaking hands she flipped them face down and set them carefully back on the table, backing away again as if they might bite her. 

“Sebastian, I can explain,” she started, running a hand over her face as if it might actually wipe some of the panic away as well. Can you explain? Can you really? 

“We have no secrets…other than this. This is what happens on the nights I used to accompany Richard to his poker nights. This is also why I stopped going. Everyone is expected to participate. That’s how they keep each other quiet. This must be their insurance. But why would someone send these if not to threaten?”

[londongeneticist]

[londongeneticist]

@polymusepotion​ || continued. . .

“take it easy, ms. greene.” he’d escorted her into his office, away from the hubbub of the politics and lobbying and shit talking going on outside. “i hate to admit that this tends to happen to attractive interns. women who are so eager to be a part of d.c. that they forget to be on the guard against the shit men do.” he went to the sink and poured her a glass of water from the filter.

“there is a camera going in this room at all times, but i’m going to sit over here, okay. you… this drug is going to run through you quickly and then stay in your system likely for the next few hours. it is meant to… to loosen your inhibitions. but you’re safe here. you have my word.”

That explains a lot. 

She’d already taken a seat in the first chair she could reach once they’d entered his office, gratefully accepting the glass of water with a small noise. It took a few moments of deep breaths before she felt steady enough to actually attempt taking a drink and she did so with both hands on the glass so as not to let it slip from her grasp. Thatcher wasn’t able to place when or where someone might have been able to slip something into her drink but there was no denying it now. 

She should tell him thank you, at least attempt to voice her gratitude for him taking her seriously when she’d approached him when the dizziness had begun. They hadn’t come to the event tonight together and had been planning on letting him approach her but that plan had swiftly gone out the window. Instead, after safely setting the glass down on the table in front of her, she gave him the best smirk she could muster. 

“So you think I’m attractive, Mr. Moran.” 

[londongeneticist]

@polymusepotion​

Still Thatcher.

He knew better than to tell her that he was sure he would need that reminder off and on over the next few months as she made her public appearances, was sized for her wedding gown, made the arrangements. He would need to be told again that she was still the girl who wanted to sneak out at night and go skinny dipping in the countryside lake that only they ever visited. Still my Thatch.

Words that had great potential of getting him in trouble. 

Sitting across from her, Sebastian visibly relaxed. His smile softened and he nodded. Before he could really respond to her, though, a young man approached with too much enthusiasm and Seb’s hand slipped into his jacket on instinct. But it was just a waiter. Looking for a good tip.

His hands went back to resting on the table. “I just want a Fuller’s Vintage Ale. In a glass, please,” he said, then looked back at Thatcher. She wouldn’t be able to do this for long, despite what she thought. A queen couldn’t be given something to drink that wasn’t in an official setting. Too many risks of poison. Of danger. Of having her photograph taken when she was in the middle of chewing or taking a bite. This place would hate for their queen to have an unattractive photo out there.

Sebastian had a picture of her with a handful of chips shoved into her mouth, crumbs everywhere, cheeks bulging, saved as her profile picture on his phone. This place knew nothing of what made Thatcher attractive.

After Thatcher had ordered, Sebastian took a deep breath and looked at her. “Talk to me,” he said softly. “I know Imogen is driving you up the wall. And that you’re putting on your bravest face. But your life is about to change drastically. So talk to me. Because you can. Because you’ll always be able to.”

The smooth movement of her friend’s hand didn’t escape her notice, her breathing stilling for the few moments of analysis it took to deem the waiter not a threat. She very nearly reached for Sebastian’s hands once they returned calmly to the table as if nothing had just happened. It hadn’t even crossed her mind that the good-mannered boy could have been anything other than that -- but perhaps that was simply proof that the king had chosen her knight well. Thatcher trusted the man across from her with her life...she’d just never thought it’d actually come to that. 

“I’ll have the same,” she said, giving the waiter an extra wide smile even though he’d clearly not picked up on the small exchange. In truth, she’d rather be drowning these nerves in shots of whiskey but they’d have to save that for a more private location now. Oh gods. There’d be no more Saturday nights in the pub, no more pints and darts and bad music. No more cheap afternoons at the theatre seeing the releases from three months ago. No more sneaking out from under Imogen’s grasp for a midnight drive. It’s Sebastian’s voice that draws her out of her own mind and the countless other scenarios it could provide. 

A small chuckle left her as she ran her hands down her face as if to literally wipe the things from her mind. Yet again, he’d read her like a book. 

“I mean, gods, where do I even start? It’s like you said, mum is even more insufferable than usual. As if this is the best thing that’s ever happened to her and she can’t believe that it’s because of something to do with ME. She’s finally got a daughter to be proud of so she’s thrilled.” Thatcher trailed quieter at the end as their waiter approached, setting down their drinks and thankfully going back to one of his other tables. 

She took a long drink before considering her next words, this time actually reaching out for his hand. “I’m...confused. Grateful for the honor, of course, but...I’m just trying to remind myself of the good I’ll be able to do. Surely that will be worth all of this. Right?” 

[londongeneticist]

@polymusepotion​

He was already shaking his head the moment she had said the word we. “No. Thatcher, no. I can’t go with you. If we run from them, then we never have the chance of going on the defensive and catching them. What I need to do is wait for them here, wait for them to show up and come after me. And then I can follow and find you again. But I can’t have you here, and I CAN’T go with you.”

He wasn’t willing for this to be a discussion. Too much hung in the balance right now and he felt he couldn’t trust ANYBODY. “You trust me, yes?” he asked, much softer this time, holding her face. “I can’t risk your life. And I can’t run for the rest of mine. You have to go. WITHOUT ME.”

She wiped the tears from her cheeks now, fully intending to gather herself and argue but the question squashed that idea. Of course she trusted him. But the idea of leaving him, leaving and not knowing when -- or if -- she would see him again made her nauseous. Him not returning simply wasn’t an option, she couldn’t even let herself entertain that thought. Logically she knew that he was right, this was the way it had to happen. And her staying was just a liability. 

A small whimper left her as she nodded, bringing her hands up to cover his own and will the contact to last just a bit longer. “Where do I go, Sebastian? I don’t even have the faintest idea...” The thoughts were rushing in now. They’d never planned for this, never thought there was a need.

[londongeneticist]

@polymusepotion​

He can taste the hurtful, bullshit retort that floods within his mouth as she finds enough courage to call his bluff. But how can he possibly ever tell her that he was certain he would have found a way to kill her. Or worse, he would have failed to protect her. Someone would have used her as a bargaining chip to get close to him, to Elijah, to Niklaus. She was right; he’d walked away because he was afraid. But not afraid of the commitment. He was afraid of being the worst thing for her.

That was what he was, after all – the black sheep, the troublemaker, the problem child. He couldn’t be trusted. 

And then, in a moment of frustration and anger toward himself, he’d acted out. And in the end, Klaus had found means to an end. Kol had spent the next eighty years in a fucking box.

By the time he woke up, Kol had been a combination of angry and even more torn up. There was no way she was still alive. And if she was, he had no hope of finding her. Looking around in Mystic Falls had proven useless.

But now here she was. In front of him. Touching him. Telling him to choose her. “You’ve survived all this time without me, Thatcher Greene,” he said quietly, not looking at her. “You and I both know we’d be putting your life in danger if we decided to try to be together.”

“Come now, Kol, we both know that simply surviving isn’t truly living.” 

It was true. That was all she had done. Survived. It had taken a few decades before Thatcher felt any semblance of comfort in her new existence. Navigating vampiric adolescence completely alone had been nothing short of a nightmare. How many people had she mindlessly killed while unable to control her hunger? How many times had she been forced to relocate after one too many slips, leaving any friendships she’d managed to make behind? In truth, after so many years, she’d lost count and perhaps it was better that way. 

“We both also know that my life was put in danger the moment I was turned. It was truly a miracle that I managed to avoid all of your siblings for as long as I did. I thought I had fairly accurate intel on their whereabouts but...well, fate works in mysterious ways.” 

Fate. Surely that’s what it had to be to bring Elijah right into her path in a city quite as large and bustling as New York. To bring the man to his senses and wake his brother. To their reunion. How could he still be denying that? She turned his head ever so slightly with the tip of her finger to meet his eyes again. 

“I would choose to face that danger a thousand times over again if it meant facing it with you at my side. Is that not why you chose me all those years ago? Because I’ll always choose you.”

[londongeneticist]

ssa-ahotchner​:

The woman before them looked like she had had quite the day, and was just about as tired as they were.  Aaron’s customary expression was devoid of any trace of a smile. “Agent Morgan is our expert in serial stalking behavior,” He said quietly, stepping into the home. He noted the Police Cruiser across the street as he closed the door behind them- if they wanted to catch this man, the obvious police presence would have to disappear.  “What can you tell us about the stalking?” Morgan asked, sitting at the kitchen table. “When did it start? I’d like you to walk me through the details– it’ll help me get a better idea of what we’re dealing with.” 

“Serial...stalking,” she repeated, losing most of the breath in her chest in the process. It shouldn’t have come as such a kick in the gut but there was something about hearing it out loud that made it all seem that much more real. 

Thatcher sat across from Agent Morgan, taking a few deep breaths to gather her thoughts as she contemplated his question and willed her hands to stop shaking. “It was four -- no, nearly five months ago now. I had just given a lecture about the newest work we’re doing in the lab. That’s when the emails started. Fairly harmless at first; vehement and incorrect assertions, promises that the experiments wouldn’t be fruitful. Then they turned accusatory, that I had somehow stolen the premise and procedures from someone else. And then threatening.” 

Even then, she hadn’t really been concerned. The woman knew her work was original, that they had already been yielding excellent results, and the space in which her lab was housed was very secure. It was when these messages bled into the rest of her life that she’d finally had to involve someone else. 

“Then it was phone calls. Texts to my personal number. Emails to my personal email. Both of those are unlisted, by the way. All increasing in volume and...aggression. I came home tonight and that was left on my doorstep. This address isn’t even registered in my name so they had to have followed me here at some point.”

[londongeneticist]

[londongeneticist]

ssa-ahotchner​:

“This is SSA Hotchner,” Aaron said quietly, placing the phone to his ear as he stepped away from the team. They’d just landed, having worked a long case of a serial rapist in Houston, and the team was tired. Aaron included. They’d been waiting for the jet to complete the taxi trip to the terminal when his phone had rang. “Agent Hotchner? This is Lieutenant Stevens, Washington DC Metro Police.” The older man frowned. Rarely was he contacted directly by local departments– that’s why the team had JJ.  “What can I do for you, Lieutenant?” Morgan glanced toward him as Hotch listened, the man on the other end of the line speaking quickly. Aaron’s lips parted slightly, and he let out a slight sigh. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant, I wish I could help, but this really should be routed through-”  “She’s working on a virus that could kill a million people within a week. We’re looking at a possible bioterrorism attack if he gets to her.” Aaron’s frown deepened.  “Hotch?” Morgan asked, breaking away from the group to approach the team leader. “What’s up?” Aaron closed his eyes for a moment, his brain wrapping it around the consequences. “We’ll be there in an hour.” Aaron ended the call and turned towards the team, all of whom had stopped talking and turned toward him. “Sorry team,” He said quietly, “We’re being called to Washington.” *************************

Aaron stood on the porch of the house, Morgan standing behind him. He held up his credentials to the peephole, allowing her to see his badge and name through the door. “I’m SSA Hotchner, this is SSA Morgan. We’re here with the FBI.”

@londongeneticist

“Truly, that won’t be necessary Lieutenant. There’s no reason to think that anything...” 

“Miss Greene?”

The phone had very nearly slipped free of her hand, too stunned at the moment to speak. Things had been escalating over the past month; a threatening email here, an anonymous phone call there. Nothing that her thick skin hadn’t allowed her to compartmentalize away easily enough. It was as though as long as it stayed at work then everything was going to be fine but this...THIS was crossing a line in the sand that even she couldn’t handle. A small package sat on the doormat at her front door, inconspicuous enough except for the scrawling handwriting that she’d become familiar with when cutting words and letters from newspaper and magazines just wasn’t enough to get the message across. Work was work but home was sanctuary and he violated that. 

“He’s been here.” 

In a matter of hours the Lieutenant had a fully mobilized response put together which now included the FBI knocking on her door. Squinting through the peephole to try and get a better look at the credentials, it bought the woman a few extra moments for a deep breath before opening the door to the two men. She felt truly ridiculous, still in her clothes from work and a mild state of shock. 

“I’m sorry that you had to come all the way down here. This is all probably some big misunderstanding...” 

She didn’t dare meet their gaze as the words left her mouth, fully aware that their presence signaled it was anything but, instead leading them further into her home. 

“Can I get you both anything?”