#GunmetalGrey
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STARTER CALL -- @gunmetalgrey
"Stop it."
Cee snaps to attention, a guilty look on her face. "What?"
Mary pulls a face. "You're thinking about how to break them up, and as your therapist--"
"You're not my therapist."
"As a therapist," Mary begins to lecture. Cee has been getting a lot of lectures recently. She can disconnect her brain so that Mary's pleasant voice can wash over her while she watches Sev and Amy flirt over the computer monitor. Rumours say it's getting serious—house, marriage, and kids sort of serious. That sounds nice; it sounds like something Sev deserves. Doctor and nurse kiss goodbye, and Cee makes a move, intending to accidentally bump into Sev in the corridor. "Yeah, got it Mary, I'll think about what you said and write my feelings in my journal," Cee waves her away.
Three... she fixes her hair; two... she picks up a chart as she passes a door; one... and step to your left, "oh fuck, hey, sorry." She holds into Sev's upper arm, and fuck, she's forgotten how good that feels. "You okay, need a doctor? I know some."
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@gunmetalgrey cont. from x
John can't help but roll his eyes rather dramatically at her question in return. "Are you saying you got the bright idea to kill me yourself? Alex, I thought we were friends!"
His smile at his joke fades quickly. She isn't usually this quiet. Well, she's damn near silent sometimes, but not when asked a question directly. He feels the itch to get up and grab himself a drink, but determines that's all because watching her think about his inquiry has made him uncomfortable.
"If this were your choice, you wouldn't be a pawn." He takes a deep breath and sits up a little straighter. "If this were your choice, you would be running your own empire. Either that or as far from this as possible."
It shouldn't come as any surprise that he wants Mycroft out. He wants so desperately to understand what that would take. Of course, the typical response to any inquiries into this side hustle was 'you knew what you were getting into when you married me, dove.'
He isn't scared of Moriarty, but he's thinking he should be. The man may not be able to harm him, but he sure as hell can harm those he loves. Pushing this further may endanger Mycroft, yet it seems he's in just as much danger if he stays.
"You have a point." He'd helped start a damn war because he'd been told no, after all. "We are all a stubborn lot, aren't we? Some more stubborn than others, apparently..."
John stands and walks toward the window, arms folded behind his back. "Hypothetically, what do you think would happen if you tried to say no?"
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@gunmetalgrey ♡'d for a starter! mary + alex.
"If you try to steal my food one more time, I'm going to break your fingers." There's no heat behind the words, and the mock-glare on her face is just that –– mocking. "I asked if you want some but noooooo, you'd rather steal mine."
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@gunmetalgrey
Her husband was sweet, though he was getting up there in years and was more paranoid, Dionysia thought. Edmund wanted to make sure his wife was safe after she witnessed a murder take place. Supposedly a murder by committed someone in the mafia. Dionysia wasn't worried, however; she was an all powerful, unkillable witch. Nevertheless, Edmund didn't know that, and therefore he hired a security guard. He informed her that this security guard would be with her 24/7 until they caught and arrested the criminal. Upon being brought to meet her, she sighed.
"Look, lovely to meet you, but this is rather pointless. And frankly, a waste of my money." Dionysia insisted. Her much older husband, looking to be about in his eighties versus Dionysia's visual forties, shook his head.
"That man could come after you or send people after you. This is the best way to keep you safe." he insisted. "Besides, we have more than enough to afford her. You're not stingy when buying new million pound sportscars, so why be so with your safety?"
Dionysia rolled her eyes. "If he was really part of the mob, you think one security guard is going to stop them?"
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exploit the rare opportunity to request fluff , still accepting.
the posture beckons for a little space, or at least some semblance of privacy ―― but when the night becomes quieter and the agitated hustle in the tavern begins to turn into a weary mumble, she disregards the one rule that, with high probability, never has applied to her anyway : arms slip over hard shoulders the moment she reaches @gunmetalgrey, and she leans down to inspect the empty pint on the wooden table. “ you’re so quiet … i thought i was the needlessly brooding one. ” voice is warm against the nook of a neck, carrying her smile in its intonation. a couple more jobs and they’ve got enough money to leave for the next village. the tavern’s nice, particularly the innkeeper with her untameable, gray hair that occasionally finds itself a special spot in the dishes served for dinner, but … it’s just that, a tavern. she wants a home. wants to come back to her wife, and chickens roaming the fields. it’s not too much to ask for, is it ? a quiet life somewhere. “ why don’t you come upstairs ? the bed’s warm. i’ll give you a massage. ”
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Small Cup with spout Gunmetal grey 原土貼花片口 小さめ 砲金色 #pottery #ceramics #woodfired #woodfiredceramics #reductionfiring #reductionfired #bizen #katakuchi #cupwithspout #gunmetalgrey #hardreduction #reductionfiring #reductioncooled #wildclay https://www.instagram.com/p/Ck3Gy5crbkP/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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"Yeah, a little."
Robbie lives in Primrose Hill with a twenty-something wife (or was she just twenty-something when they met?) and two teeth rotting daughters. They're sweet. So sweet. Stomach ache sweet. And the worst bit is, they get it from him as much as they get it from their mother. They're all so fucking sweet.
Three years back, Mia invited Celia around for dinner. She seemed to know everything about Cee, even though she can't imagine Robbie telling her much. It was half an hour before Celia realised it was a dinner to celebrate Elodie's birthday. Robbie and Cee hadn't done anything for it since she died. Cee had barely done anything for it when she lived. Robbie has insinuated as much when Cee stuttered over what she would like to do with the cake. They shouted about in the garden. It was probably the first time his daughters had seen adults argue.
But despite it all, Robbie knew her the best out of anyone she knew and it was nice to be known. He gave boy advice, hid cigerattes on the back porch for when she came around. He was better now he was away from her, more like the Robbie she met that Halloween night.
"He's... uh, better. He'd be better if you're looking for advice. I don't... I don't think I feel the way you're supposed to."
It’s truly terrible that Celia’s reaction causes the corners of her mouth to pull upwards, a half attempt at a smile. Sick and twisted. If they were friends, this would be the reason. She pours a glass for her companion, handing it over and moving enough over from the widow nook to give her space to sit.
It’s not Sherlocks absence that haunts her. He made his own bed, ‘bout time he lay in it alone. She’s probably exaggerating in her estimate of a month to be like, they’re about due a pathetic night of moping soon when he’s too out of it to register she’s there. He’s pretty fucking manipulative when he’s not even trying, or maybe that’s the stupid love people write so many songs about.
“The kids father.”
Alex wasn’t going to give him the respect or honour of calling that man a dad. “Do you still have anything to do with him?”
It’s the small baby shaped whole she had four or so months of growing close to that hurts. And it’s the reason she keeps any contact with Sherlock in the first place. She can’t move on while he might be the person who knows the most about that particular wound.
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starter call / @gunmetalgrey
"What are you doing? It's 5am. Aren't you crazy fit people always up at 5am?"
If the crazy knocking wasn't enough to get across that Celia is eager to see Alex, the tone should clear things up. The frantic arm movements and little skips might also be an indicator.
"Are you free, are you sober? I need you to drive me to Brighton and help me steal a yacht. Now. Earlier than now. An hour ago!"
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@consultingsister
CHICKEN RUN (2000) dir. Peter Lord & Nick Park
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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Tretorn Tall Gun Metal Grey Women’s Rain Boots - Stylish & Durable Waterproof.
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[ad_1] I built a meme out of my cat give me clout ??? #russianblue #gunmetalgrey #catmemes [ad_2]
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Don’t sleep on this gunmetal color, pictures don’t do this colorway justice. These are fresh! www.jekyllhydeapparel.com
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#gymshorts #jekyllhyde #gunmetalgrey
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christmas skills!
⊹ WRAPPING PRESENTS:
professional with ribbon on top | passable | catastrophe | call an ambulance
⊹ BUYING THE CORRECT PRESENTS:
good | yes (if you're a VIP) | i still have the receipt why do you ask | here’s a coupon get yourself something nice
⊹ AVOIDING CHRISTMAS ALTOGETHER:
hasn’t been seen in 20 8 years | attends a few parties here and there | only seen when necessary | was found every time
⊹ KNOWING CHRISTMAS SONGS:
choose from track 1 to 500! | the usual ones | a few | Christ-what?
⊹ PICKING A CHRISTMAS JUMPER:
look it even lights up! | it’s ugly let’s take it | decent | the red one has to do
⊹ SENDING CHRISTMAS CARDS:
it’s huge and shiny and Rudolph’s nose lights up | simple and traditional | it says Christmas that’s all that matters | no cards ; though she does send them for her boss
⊹ DECORATING:
it shines so bright, and look what happens when i press this button | one time a plane confused us with a runway | just the tree and a few lights | tree | something, anything, taped to the front door
⊹ SURVIVING CHRISTMAS DINNER WITH THE FAMILY:
centre of the dinner and enjoying it | just smile and wave | barely hanging on; spent normally with her boss’s family | one more word and I’ll stab myself with this spoon
tagged by: Stolen from @spynorth
tagging: @fxckingmoran @corruptaxpoliticus @gunmetalgrey and anyone that wants to!
#◜ ❝ Know thyself and all will be revealed ❞ ◞ // Anthea ABOUT.#◜ ❝ some things are set in stone ❞ ◞ // Anthea HEADCANONS.
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