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artificialqueens · 1 year

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Galactica, Chapter 105 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Previously: The model apartment was overrun with foreign visitors, Violet’s first NYFW showing was tainted by being demoted back to Miss Fame’s office, and Pearl’s womanizing ways repeatedly landed her in hot water.

This Chapter: Galactica Runway Show Day! But will anyone come out alive?

***

Gigi sighed contently, still half asleep, as Symone shifted in her arms. With how packed the apartment was, they’d been sharing Symone’s bed and letting one of their Eastern European visitors take hers. (Gigi felt a little bad that she still didn’t know the girl’s name, but every time she said it, it sounded different.)

Normally, she might overthink the whole bed-sharing thing, especially this many days in a row, but since they literally had 3 other girls in the room (the one in her bed and 2 on the floor), it felt more like summer camp. It was nice, actually, having Symone so close and cuddly all night without any pressure or expectations. She pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, nose brushing against the silky edge of her bonnet.

Symone turned her head, whispering, “Hey.”

“Hi,” Gigi whispered back.

“Did you sleep okay?”

“Mmhmm…” Gigi touched her cheek, enjoying how perfectly soft and smooth it felt. How, in spite of the other girls in the room with them, the covers gave them their own private little cocoon of quiet warmth. “Did I tell you how pretty you looked last night?”

“No…but you can tell me now.” Symone grinned, fluttering her lashes.

Gigi giggled and kissed her on the nose.

“You were the most beautiful girl in the room,” she said honestly. “Nobody could take their eyes off you.”

“Well…I didn’t notice. I was just looking at you,” Symone replied, making Gigi’s cheeks heat up.

They’d been to a cocktail party celebrating Hugo Boss’s new cologne and perfume line, ‘Boss: the scent,’ which was a stupid name if you asked Gigi. Not that anyone did. It was still weird to her that so much of their job centered on events that they probably technically shouldn’t be allowed to attend, since neither of them were 20 years old yet. Although, at least they were over 18, unlike the girl in her bed right now, who she was pretty sure was barely 16 at most. She wanted to look after her, but on the other hand, what business did she have doing that when she felt like a kid herself most of the time? She shook the thought from her head and directed her attention back to her girlfriend.

Gigi leaned forward, brushing a kiss against Symone’s lips, when she was startled by a voice moaning out a distressed, “SYMOOOOONE!”

She sprang back a bit, lowering the covers, to see Tatianna clambering into their room, doing her best to avoid stepping on the girls on the floor, brow furrowed.

“OW!” one of the girls shrieked.

“Sorry!” Tati said, “Sorry, sorry…”

The girl sat up, rubbing her head with a petulant look on her face.

“Omigod, I’m freaking out about today! Did Sutan say anything about nails? Why am I freaking out?” Tati flung herself onto the bed, groaning, holding out her hands for Symone to inspect.

“You’ll be fine,” Symone assured her. “They chose you because they want you. Just take off the polish from yesterday and show up on time with me and Bim.”

Gigi swallowed. She still felt a little disappointed that she wasn’t walking in the Galactica show with Symone and Tati and Bimini—it felt strange to be one of the only “Amrull girls” not to book that job, like some black mark on her record.

“Tati, can I borrow this top?” someone called, poking their head into the room.

“Okay,” Tati sighed.

“Ladies!” Another visitor squeezed into their room, as Tia entered with a big smile. “Anyone up for a breakfast today besides fucking porridge? No shade to our dormitory mum, but I’m not Oliver Twist. Anyway, I heard that the Waverly Diner is quite nice. What do you say?”

“Sounds good to me!” Tati enthused.

“Yeah! What do you think, babe? We don’t have to be at Hilfiger until 11, but I know you had that other thing to take care of…” Symone turned to Gigi with one eyebrow raised, clearly giving her an out.

“Right. Um…”

“Can I come?” piped up a brunette from the floor, yawning.

“What thing?” Tia asked, head cocked.

Gigi liked Tia, she supposed. Or, she didn’t have any reason not to like Tia. Not a good reason, anyway, besides just feeling like there was something a little off about her energy. Something that rubbed her the wrong way.

“Nothing, I can come,” Gigi said.

“Smashing!”

“Coffee’ll be ready in 4 minutes!” shouted a voice from the hallway.

“That’s mine you bitch!” screamed another. Soon, the voices were indistinguishable, a cacophonous blend.

Gigi flopped back against the pillow, her quiet and peaceful little moment with Symone over as the chaos of the morning bloomed all around her, now impossible to ignore.

***

Raja watched as the Galactica staff moved swiftly backstage like a choreographed dance, everyone focusing on their individual tasks. She checked her watch. It was a men’s Rolex, the strap too thick for her wrist, but Raja liked wearing it, liked it a lot more than the slender feminine watches that didn’t exude the type of ‘fuck you’ power she needed. This particular one was a gift from Raven, a belated engagement gift given to her with a smirk and a request to test if it really was waterproof, Raja forcing Raven to come and come and come on her fingers until she sobbed into the sheets.

Raja pulled herself together, refocusing, thoughts of Raven’s body and the adorable way she cried for mercy really not what she needed on a day like today.

Fame always insisted on having their shows in the last slot of the day. While it did give her more hours to stress, it also meant that nobody had other shows and events to rush off to, so people were more relaxed. Or, as her business partner was now explaining to Shea, “In a more receptive head space. And, of course, there’s the added bonus that we can have our cocktail party immediately after the show.”

They were, somewhat miraculously, on schedule, the models slowly getting released from hair and makeup. Max had a backdrop set up in one corner so that he could document every look for internal and archival use, while Pearl snapped candids for social media and the website.

Raja knew Ivy had everything under control out in the house, her assistant keeping an eye on the floor personnel they had hired to manage the guests, the gift bags, and the press, the paparazzi probably already pulling up slowly.

“Raja…”

Raja turned to see Amy from makeup approaching, her signature candy-colored hair a bright blue to fuschia ombre done up in pigtails, her dress tiered ruffles that resembled an expensive cupcake, her tiny stature assisted by a pair of absolutely massive glittery purple platform boots. It wasn’t anything Raja would wear, but she appreciated the girl’s commitment to her signature look.

“Yes?”

“Sorry to interrupt, but we need your opinion in makeup. There’s a bit of an issue-”

“Of course, let’s go.” Raja threw away her coffee, following Amy to the other side of the backstage area—issue could be code for any number of things. She was always Fame’s second in command, but it was never clearer than when styling decisions needed to be made, Fame trusting Raja completely even as the entire reputation of their brand was on the line.

The issue in makeup was thankfully a small one; Amy simply needed Raja to make the final decision on a model who had gotten an accidental tan since the casting.

Raja was just about to leave, when she spotted Raven, who was sitting in one of the chairs, basically naked save for a couple of pasties and a beige thong. Raja did a double take, eyeing her up appreciatively, how her lack of clothing left nothing to the imagination, and maybe more charmingly, how she didn’t seem to notice that she was being watched.

Raven was chewing gum, her entire attention caught up in her phone, three stylists working on straightening her long black hair, and Raja couldn’t help but smile.

Enduring was all part of the modeling industry, the ability to completely disconnect from your body what separated the mediocre from the great, and though it seemed like her brother was losing faith, Raja still knew that Raven was the best.

***

The only thing keeping Violet’s raging anxiety in check was her years and experience at the ballet academy.

She was walking a few steps behind Fame and Shea, staying close in case she needed something, Nicky off with Ivy to be introduced to their more challenging tasks as Galactica assistants at a runway show.

It had been physically painful to walk away from her dress after putting it on Raven, but there was nothing left for her to do except hover, and no matter how much she wanted to, she didn’t have the opportunity for that. Not when Fame could need her.

Having Sutan over had accidentally helped her much more than she expected, the heavy weight of his body holding hers, his steady heartbeat and grounding presence keeping her mind from spinning out of control.

Violet took a deep breath through her nose, her fingers on the edge of her skirt. It would be torture to stand by Fame once the runway started instead of hiding away like she wanted to, but she had endured worse, and she’d live through this too.

***

Tati tried to stand still, doing her best not to think about what would happen if she damaged, or even creased, the priceless couture skirt she had on. She was a bundle of nerves, nerves she’d really hoped would have gone away by now. After all, she’d walked in four shows already this week, but this was different. This wasn’t Reed Krakoof, this was Galactica.

Even when she’d arrived, there’d already been paparazzi setting up. By now, there must be loads more. Plus, so many people who could literally determine the fate of her career—Sutan, of course, and Bianca, who she really hoped didn’t regret giving her the recommendation in the first place. Not to mention the buyers, the brands, the biggest movers and shakers in the fashion world, front and center, eyes on her.

It would probably be fine once she hit the runway. She knew that, at least, from her other shows this week. Once the lights were on, she tended to zone out and hyperfocus on her walk, her poses, forgetting everything. Backstage was another story.

Without moving her head, she shifted her gaze to Amy, who was pressing a last coat of highlighter into her cheeks with surgical precision. She hadn’t spoken to Amy too much the last time they worked together, but she knew that Courtney liked her a lot, and she seemed like a really fun girl. She wondered if there was any subtle way to bring up that insane Raven drama—a little gossip would certainly help keep her mind off things. Although, seeing as how Raven was currently present, and the star of the show, maybe that wasn’t such a great idea. Better keep her mouth shut.

Just then, Pearl Liaison strolled by. She’d been snapping some Behind the Scenes photos for their social media. She took a couple of shots of Tati and Amy before lowering her camera and giving a lopsided grin.

“You look great,” she purred, then tilted her head, letting the camera rest on her shoulder. “Have I seen you somewhere before?”

Tati blinked at her for a full second before asking, “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Oh shit.” Pearl’s blue eyes widened, and she gave Tati another flirty once-over. “We haven’t slept together before, have we? Because I’m sure I’d remember-”

“No, we haven’t slept together!” Tati said, trying her absolute best to keep her voice civil. After all, this was still a job, and pissing off Galactica’s social media coordinator, or whatever the hell Pearl’s job title was, would probably not be the smartest thing. But what an absolute twat she was. “Jesus christ. But we have hung out, like repeatedly. ‘Cause I’m friends with Adore Delano? And Courtney Jenek?”

“Oh…” Pearl’s face fell a bit, at least managing to look a little chagrined.

“Yeah, oh. So you’re like, kind of barking up the wrong fucking tree.” Tati said, crossing her arms. She couldn’t believe the gall of this girl.

“Right.” Pearl cleared her throat awkwardly, taking a step back. “Uh, sorry…um…tell Adore I said hi.”

April was triple-checking that all the clothes for the changes were properly tagged when she saw the trainwreck begin, and then watched it all unfold with morbid glee. For years, she’d witnessed every woman Pearl so much as glance at throw themself at her feet, so seeing someone so blatantly reject her advances was hilariously refreshing.

“Uh, sorry…um…tell Adore I said hi,” Pearl was telling her, clearly a bit embarrassed.

“No.” Tati replied flatly.

At that, April couldn’t help but let out a snorting laugh. She covered her mouth with her hand but it was too late. Pearl looked over at her, giving her a bit of a dirty look. She waved back, owning it.

“Liaison! Come here!” she called, a delighted grin still on her face.

Pearl walked over, a look on her face that was an unfamiliar cross between a scowl and a pout, the expression of someone clearly used to getting her way 100% of the time, disoriented by this turn of events where one thing didn’t come out in her favor.

“What?” Pearl asked.

“Nothing,” April giggled, “Just nice to see you get taken down a peg. Also, you’re welcome for rescuing you from that awkwardness.”

“Thanks a lot.” Pearl huffed, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes.

April laughed again, reaching forward to tug on her hair. “Come on, it was funny. And it’s not like your ego can’t take it.”

“You don’t know what my ego can take. Maybe I have very low self esteem,” Pearl said, tossing her hair.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Maybe that was really devastating for me,” she continued, playing it up, one hand on her heart, brow furrowed, full lips quivering.

“Hmm…yeah, you’re right, I’m sorry.” April placed a hand on her shoulder. “Tell you what. Assuming we all survive this show in one piece, I’ll nurse your wounds at the afterparty.”

“Deal,” Pearl said, holding up her fist to bump with April’s.

“Now get outta here and let me finish my work.”

***

Fame chewed her thumb nail, trying not to be too obvious about it with Shea beside her, as she watched the live feed on the backstage screen, cameras mounted to the end of the runway, just behind the photography pit.

The first model had done well, the opening exactly as Fame had imagined it, Alexis’s dress a masterpiece, the looks now coming one after the other.

This was her collection, her vision come to life. The models practically floated down the runway, all perfectly embodying the exact feeling she’d dreamed of, a fresh breeze whipping your linen skirt around your legs while your yacht sailed through the harbor at dusk, chilled white wine in hand. They looked expensive and sophisticated, healthy and untouchable, exactly like a Galactica woman should.

Fame tried not to look out at the audience, tried to keep her thoughts in check.

The 16 minutes a Galactica show usually took always seemed to drag on forever, while also being gone in seconds, and before Fame could blink, the music changed and Raven stepped onto the runway.

“How do I look-“

Fame didn’t even need to finish, Raja right behind her, the models lined up to go again as soon as Raven gave her final pose.

“Fucking fantastic, Famie,” Raja smiled, squeezing her arm, “Now put this in your pocket.” She took her hand, gently directing it out of view, “and go kill it.”

“As long as it doesn’t kill me.” Fame hated being on stage, her appearance for the end of show bow and applause famously short, but the suffering was worth it, since the ovation meant that they had made it yet again.

***

Raven was bubbling over, happiness tight in her chest as she waited for someone to come undress her, Violet’s gown without a doubt going to the archives, the reception of it too good for it to not be regarded as a pivotal part of Galactica’s design history.

The show had gone well, the front rows even standing up when Raja and Fame had appeared on stage.

It didn’t last long, cameras flashing more than a lightning storm to make sure they got a photo, Fame taking a single bow while Raja had stayed behind to wave.

“Princess!”

Raven turned, watching as Raja came walking towards her, grabbing her before she had a chance to protest, pulling her into a hug.

“Raja!” Raven tried to pull back, attempting to put distance between Raja and what she was wearing, grabbing the skirt to protect it and pull it off the floor. “You’ll step on the dress-“

“You,” Raja put a hand on Raven’s cheek, guiding her in, holding her, controlling her, their eyes locked together, “were utter perfection.”

Raja kissed her, and Raven melted, the feeling of making Raja proud one of the most satisfying sensations in the world.

Bianca picked up her purse, thinking to herself what an impressive show she’d seen, especially that breathtaking finale dress. She felt a little conflicted about skipping the party. She’d gotten an invite, but for the first time, no handwritten note from Fame or Raja, and when she’d caught Fame’s eye after the show ended, Fame turned her back, clearly not wanting to talk to her. The message was pretty apparent, and if she’d been on the fence when the day began, she now felt fairly certain that she’d be an unwelcome sight.

She fished her coat check ticket out of her Birkin and held it up subtly as an eagle-eyed assistant rushed over to take it from her hand, only to then look over into her sister’s scowling face.

“What?”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Adore asked, arms crossed.

Bianca sighed. They’d talked about this, albeit briefly, and she’d told Adore that she wasn’t sure if she’d attend the party; maybe she’d stop by, although she probably wouldn’t stay long.

“Look, it’s just not gonna happen tonight, pussycat-”

“You can’t leave. You’re my date,” Adore cajoled.

“Nice try,” Bianca grinned, poking her gently in the ribs. “But Alaska’s your date, remember?”

“No, that doesn’t count, she’s working.” Adore turned her mouth down into a pout, giving her very best puppy eyes. “Come on…”

“You come on. It’s not like I’m abandoning you to a roomful of strangers. Alaska’s here, your friend Tati’s here. Hell, it’s a whole fucking party full of people who love you. So-”

“They love you too.”

Bianca bit her lip. She knew that Adore wanted things to get back to normal. And of course, she did too, but unfortunately, wanting it didn’t make it true.

“That…is debatable, at the moment,” Bianca said quietly.

Adore furrowed her brow, a look of desperation in her eyes. She opened her mouth, about to protest, as the assistant returned with Bianca’s forest green vintage Versace trench.

Bianca smiled graciously, thanking her, as the young woman helped her into it, then leaned forward to give Adore a peck on the cheek. “Tell you what. You make nice, play family ambassador, and I’ll keep on supporting you in the lifestyle to which you’ve become accustomed. Sound fair?”

“Please, B, just-”

“Leaving so soon?” cooed a familiar voice, right in her ear.

Bianca turned around, sighing slightly. “Hey, De. What’s up?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Bianca Del Rio. Why are you running out so fast? Got a hot date?” Detox smirked, his eyes glittering in the low light like they always did when he was on the trail of a good story.

“If you must know–”

“Always!”

“I have another commitment. I’m a very busy woman.”

Detox crossed his arms. “Another commitment? On the day of the girls’ show? Really?”

“What’s it to ya?”

Detox smiled, that slimy smile that said he knew something about you. Bianca rolled her eyes.

“De, tell her to stay,” Adore said, “At least for one drink.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Adore,” Detox said, tapping his chin as he pretended to think deeply with his single brain cell. “These other plans she has must be very important. Better hurry, get there while they’re still…young and perky.”

Adore facepalmed, clearly expecting more from him (why, Bianca wasn’t sure, it was completely expected for him to be exactly that tasteless).

“Grow up, Detox,” Bianca scoffed, and began to walk away.

“Bet you don’t tell her that, do you?” Detox called after her.

Bianca turned and looked back at him, eyes narrowed. “Awww, look who’s all brave, wearing his big boy panties when the wifey’s not around to keep him in line.”

“Hey, I’m just calling it like I see it,” he laughed, holding up his hands in mock innocence.

“You’re an asshole.” Bianca shook her head, slipping on her sunglasses. It may have been nearly dark outside, but she didn’t want to deal with the press right now.

“And you’re a-”

“Ughhh, you guys! Stop!” Adore groaned.

Bianca looked at her, lowering her shades. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Stop stressing, it’ll all be fine. I promise. You can tell them I loved the show.”

“Okay,” Adore sighed. “Goodnight.”

“G’night, pussycat.”

“No goodnight for me?” Detox asked.

“Goodnight, cunt!” Bianca said, turning back around and heading for the door, hearing his laughter fade as she went.

“Thank you so much for the opportunity.” Sutan smiled, squeezing the hand of the man he was talking to. “I’ll make sure to email your people, and we’ll see what we can do.”

“You’re the best, Amrull!”

“You know it.”

Sutan kept the smile on his face as he walked away, pulling his phone from his pocket to send a quick reminder to himself.

He was almost done with his official work for the day, networking on behalf of his models always intense after a really good show, and there was a reason that Galactica was known as the best in the business.

He had taken time to give each of his girls individual feedback, Raven rolling her eyes while Bimini had laughed at him, but Symone and especially Tatianna had seemed like they were paying attention.

The show had been incredible, Sutan watching it from the front row, everything coming together and working seamlessly, Fame’s intense attention to detail and endless drive for perfection stamped all over the collection.

When Raven had stepped on the stage, an excited murmur rippled through the crowd, and Sutan had felt his heart swell with pride, Violet’s dress so distinctive, so very her, the gown the perfect way to close the show.

“Sutan!”

Sutan turned, almost dropping his phone as Violet threw herself at him, Fame finally releasing her from her iron grip.

“Did you see?!” Violet was smiling widely, happiness radiating from her. She had changed her clothes since he last saw her, her black dress obviously picked to blend into the background at the cocktail party.

“I did, I did,“ Sutan chuckled, the public enthusiasm so unlike the Violet he knew, her beautiful smile something he usually only saw in private. “You did amazing.”

“It didn’t fall apart or anything!”

“Didn’t fall apart?” Sutan raised a brow, surprise overtaking him. He couldn’t remember that ever happening to a Galactica piece, their tailoring department always doing their job, and Raven had been raised right, his soon to be sister-in-law knowing how to walk so she never risked tripping on a hem.

He was about to question it, to ask why Violet would think that, but then, he remembered who he was talking to.

His Violet, his girlfriend, the wonderful woman who more often than not wound herself so tight he was scared she’d snap.

Of course she had worried until the very last second.

“Oh lovely eyes.”

“I know, I know,” Violet laughed, clearly so thrilled and elated, the anxiety that Sutan had seen wear her down completely obliterated from her gorgeous face.

“I’m really proud of you.” Sutan knew they were in public, but when he leaned down to give her a peck, Violet put her arms around his neck, pulling him in for an actual kiss. He felt his heart sore, a happy Violet beyond delightful. They broke apart, and Sutan grinned, “Let’s go get you a drink.”

“I don’t know…” Violet bit her lip, a flicker of doubt crossing her face. “I’m technically at work…”

“Hey. If needed, I’ll deal with Fame.” Sutan squeezed her, knowing that he meant it, that he’d be willing to do that for her if she needed it. “You deserve to celebrate. Champagne for the lady at the very least!”

“Okay.” Violet smiled, his girlfriend adorably easy to convince, like she had been waiting for permission that Sutan was more than willing to give her. “Okay.”

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joslincox · 3 months

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Osmosis Jones (2011) Early Production Stages; Voice Acting

Before Tyler James Williams was cast as Osmosis Jones, Drake Bell, Chad Michael Murray, Usher, Corbin Bleu, Ben Schwartz, Nick Cannon, Ryan Cabrera, Omarion, Adam Brody, Michael Cera, Chris Pine, Freddie Prinze Jr., and Johnathan Bennett were confirmed.

Before Brandon Butler was cast as Drixenol Koldreliff, Ross Lynch, Daniel Radcliffe, Channing Tatum, Riley Smith, Tom Welling, Jesse Metcalfe, Josh Peck, Hugh Dancy, Erik von Detten, Ricky Ullman, and Stephen Colletti were considered.

Before Miles Heizer was cast as Hector Cruz, Zac Efron, Ryan Gosling, Justin Timberlake, Ben McKenzie, Chace Crawford, and Robert Pattinson were considered.

Before Keke Plamer was cast as Leah Estrogen, Raven-Symone, Ashanti, Christina Millian, Ciara, Sanaa Lathan, Gabrielle Union, Solange Knowles, Rosario Dawson, Parminder Nagra, and Olivia (Longott) were considered.

Before Miley Cyrus was cast as Christine Kolchuck, Hilary Duff, Mandy Moore, Brittany Snow, Julia Stiles, and Tara Reid were considered.

Before Selena Gomez was cast as Maria Amino, Vanessa Hudgens, Demi Lovato, Brenda Song, Lindsay Lohan, Sophia Bush and Rachael Leigh Cook were considered.

Before Michael Cimino was cast as Paul Spryman, Mitchel Musso, Devon Werkheiser, Taylor Lautner, Rory Culkin, Khamani Griffin, Brandon Mychal Smith, and Jordan Fry were considered.

Before Freddie Highmore was cast as Frank DeTorri, Jesse McCartney, Rajiv Surendra, Robert Schwartzman, Oliver James, Josh Hartnett, Frankie Muniz, Adrian Grenier, and Sean Faris were considered

Before Rihanna was cast as Joslin Goliath, Regina Hall, Nia Long, Kerry Washington, Monica, Sharon Leal, and Brandy were considered.

#osmosis jones #osmosis jones 2011 #early development #2007 #early production #film remake #late 2000s #early 2010s

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pifindsfood · 2 years

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Greek Lamb Tacos with Tzatziki

https://bluebowlrecipes.com/greek-grilled-lamb-tacos/

https://www.feastingathome.com/tzatziki/

Ingredients

6 flour tortillas

1 lb lamb leg steak or shoulder steak

Salt

Tzatziki

1 English Cucumber ( or 3–4 Turkish cucumbers) grated- two cups!

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 cup greek yogurt ( thick whole milk, full fat)

1 fat garlic clove, finely minced ( use a garlic press, do not use more)

1 tablespoon chopped fresh dill

2 tablespoons mint

a squeeze of lemon to taste

drizzle of olive oil

Roasted Potatoes

2 Yellow potatoes

olive oil

salt

Instructions

Potatoes

Heat oven to 400F. Dice potatoes into 1/2″ cubes, toss in olive oil and salt, and bake on sheet pan for 40 minutes.

Lamb

Preheat cast iron pan to high heat for 10 minutes. Dry lamb steaks with paper towel and season with salt. Sear lamb steaks until browned and fat is rendered (4-5 minutes per side). Rest.

Before serving, slice lamb into 1/2 inch cubes along grain. Avoid bones.

Tzatziki

Grate cucumbers and place in a bowl with the salt and toss well, place in a strainer ( over a bowl). Let sit 10-15 minutes while you prep the remaining ingredients. Alternatively, you can press to release water.

In a medium bowl, whisk yogurt, garlic and fresh herbs.

Pressing down with your fingers, remove any more liquid from the cucumber that you can. You will end up with one cup of cucumber. Fold the strained cucumber into the yogurt mixture.

Taste, adding lemon juice ( if you like) to taste. Season with pepper and more salt if needed. If you want more richness, stir in a drizzle of olive oil. You can also drizzle olive oil over the top in a circular motion.

Garnish with fresh herbs and keep refrigerated until ready to serve.

Assemble tacos, flour tortilla, potatoes, lamb, and sauce. Top with additional mint. Add pomegranate seeds for extra brightness and honey or other sweet sauce to balance the sharpness of the garlic.

Notes

This will keep 4 days in the fridge.

If using thick-skinned, waxy cucumbers, make sure to peel. Sometimes waxy cucumbers also have large seeds, feel free to remove.

If using thin-skinned cucumbers like English, Persian or Turkish, feel free to leave the skin on. I like the skin for texture. You can also peel off the skin in “stripes”, to only use part of the skin.

If using non-fat or low-fat yogurt stir in a couple of tablespoons of olive oil. I really don’t recommend non-fat yogurt here.

In a pinch, dry dill or dry mint will work- not quite as good, but better than nothing!

https://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/michael-symon/braised-lamb-tacos-recipe-2112369

https://www.feastingathome.com/greek-lamb-tacos-with-minted-yogurt-sauce/

#lamb #dinner #savory

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zxqs · 3 years

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The weird thing is, we never really found out what happened to Richard and why he acted that way.

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lcvecult · 4 years

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Symone to Damien before he goes into an interview: Can you, I don’t know, mention your best gal pal, Symone?

Oliver: Is that “gal pal” spelled l-o-s-e-r?

#admin; dylan.#ch; oliver.#ch; symone.#ch; damien.#I HATE DYLAN #admin; kelly made this edit

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badgaymovies · 3 years

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Madagascar Skin (1995)

Today's review on MyOldAddiction.com, Madagascar Skin by #ChrisNewby starring #JohnHannah and #BernardHill

CHRIS NEWBY Bil’s rating (out of 5): BB United Kingdom, 1995. British Film Institute, Channel Four Films, Dan Films. Screenplay by Chris Newby. Cinematography by Oliver Curtis. Produced by Julie Baines. Production Design by Paul Cross. Costume Design by Annie Symons. Film Editing by Chris Newby, Annabel Ware. The unpleasant trappings of this tale of rough eroticism will turn off most viewers,…

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jaxs-beanie · 2 years

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It’s so fascinating how Hades’ character has developed over the years in Hadestown. In a video interview with Anais Mitchell and Patrick Page, Anais mentioned that she feels she wrote Hades as more of a 2-dimensional villain, and this can be seen especially in earlier drafts where it was explicit that he was with other women to fill the void, including Eurydice, the concept album, where he trashed Persephone's speakeasy upon discovery, and a 2012 draft by Ben Matchstick where he considered just shooting Orpheus and only relented because it’d make him a martyr.

A lot of Hades' later depth and sympathy came from Patrick Page, who always tries to get in the head of whoever he's playing so he can give his all to the role. In an interview alongside Amber Gray, he mentioned that while Hades' character didn't change too much from the NYTW days, what changes did occur were important, and in a feature on how he plays him, he felt that while Hades is an abusive CEO and king of the underworld and all that, at his core he's a husband terrified of losing his wife, which drives all his other actions. Patrick was also responsible for much of Hades' costume, including the white hair, sunglasses, wall tattoo, the snake garters and shoes, and the idea of being leather-clad and mysterious in Act 1 and 'opening up' more in Act 2 by stripping down to shirtsleeves and waistcoat as we get to know him more.

It's been really fun to watch other actors' takes on Hades, too. Kevyn Morrow plays him very regal and deliberately imposing; every movement is carefully calculated like a performance. He's secure in his power which is why Orpheus is such a threat to him, and equally secure in his love for Persephone, which is why he doesn’t get why she’s unhappy. Tim Hughes plays him like a young CEO who thinks he's unstoppable til Orpheus makes him see otherwise, T Oliver Reid plays him charismatic and jazzy with a down-to-earth feel when talking to Eurydice and a religious leader feel to the workers, Tom Hewitt plays him jazzy and more focused on being businesslike, with insecurity Persephone would see if she wasn't completely hammered, Greg Brown on the album plays him sly, cold, and exhausted with his duties, and in Vermont David Symons played him sly and scary (and with an accordion XD).

One thing Patrick said in an interview which stuck out to me was this part--because Hades himself doubts Persephone's love he feels there's no way Orpheus can make it, but if he can he deserves to.

#Hadestown #hades #hadestown vermont #hadestown broadway #hadestown tour #persephone #orpheus #eurydice

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diana-prince-s · 3 years

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I'm not very creative but I would love to have a moment where Rosé and Denali are in public like with their friends or something and Denali is teasing Rosé or vice versa, doesn't matter. But the one that's getting teased is trying to keep her composure while the other one is having the time of her life and playing innocent. Can be like, say they're eating and she like makes a whole show out of tasting something, you know O face and moans and all, or like, asks her if she can have some of her food and then when she goes to bite it she takes the other's fingers in her mouth or whatever. Or intentionally rubbing up against her when she passes by her because it's a "tight space". Aaaaah I'm going wild just imagining it hehe

"I'll keep it short" yeah right I can't keep anything short

The invitation from Jan for a test of the new herbal brew her husband brought from travels abroad was not an unwelcome one — besides the fact that it was for the time that Denali normally spent with Rosé. Denali’s first instinct was to decline. But in the last few weeks Denali has avoided lunches with her friends and marketing trips with Jan and her sister, all to be with Rosé. It was starting to look suspicious at worst and rude at best, so she decided it was just best to attend.

Jan’s home was small and modest-looking from the outside, made mostly of stone and decorated well with the flowers Jan liked to grow through the spring and summer that managed to keep well into the winter. She grew a small plot of vegetables and had a little grove of olive trees in the back which her kind-hearted husband used to make oil in his spare time. Inside, they had decorated with tapestries from the East and a few pieces of artwork from the West. One might mistake their style for Athenian, but their family crest bore the name of Sparta and they lived in the Spartan ways. There was nothing wrong with liking the finer things in life, Denali supposed.

By the time Denali made it to Jan’s front door, the usual crowd of young wives had gathered and Denali could hear their laughter from the outside. She knocked, and not a minute later a flushed Jan appeared and yanked her by her wrist inside.

“Denali! We’ve been waiting for you.”

The kitchen was full and warm, and smoke filled the air from the hearth. Through the haze Denali saw many familiar faces — Olivia, Jackie, Kahmora, and Jan’s other sister Lagoona — and then she looked to the corner and saw Rosé, her flaming red hair pinned into a bun so her jaw and neck were exposed. Denali saw a mark she had left yesterday half-covered by the sleeve of Rosé’s gown, and when she finally looked up at Rosé’s face she saw her smirk.

“How nice to see you, Denali,” Rosé said, her voice low and silky. Denali nodded, because she couldn’t yet trust her own voice.

Olivia waved her hand from where she sat at the preparation table. “Come sit next to me.”

Denali carried herself over the room, feeling hot because of Rosé’s eyes on her, and she sat where she was bade. There was a platter with roasted boar and boiled potatoes and bowls of olives and capers laid out for them. Denali took an olive to chew on and keep her hands occupied.

Rosé drifted across the room. She leaned her weight on the table and looked around. “Where is Symone today?”

“Busy with her son,” Jan said.

Rosé hummed and eyed Denali. “Hm. What a shame.”

Denali’s cheeks got hot and she sent Rosé a glare, which elicited an even greater smirk from her.

Jan disappeared for a moment, but she returned quickly with a velvet bag in her hands that she set on the table beside the capers. “So these are the herbs.” She opened the pouch and dotted a few into her hand. They were green and amber, tiny flecks with a strong but not unpleasant scent. “Lysanios says we just soak them in boiling water and then drink.”

“Like the herbal teas my family in the East drinks,” Kahmora said.

Jan nodded. “Lagoona, would you get the cups? And Rosé, the water?”

Lagoona sprung from the table and went to the basin with their cups and goblets while Rosé fetched the boiling water from the fire. Jan produced a device that had a wooden handle and a metal cage. She poured the herbs into the cage and closed it.

Denali felt a presence at her back, and then Rosé was leaning over the side of her at the corner of the table to put the pot of water down. “Excuse me,” she whispered, and then she looked down at Denali and smiled. Her breasts, accentuated by the tight top of her gown, were barely an inch from Denali’s face. She couldn’t take her eyes off of them. “Jan, do I just put this thing in the water?”

“Yes,” Jan said.

Rosé reached further across the table, her chest moving with her, and Denali heard the plunk of the device going into the water. Rosé receded.

“Give it a minute to soak.” Jan stirred the contraption in the water to make sure the herbs were thoroughly mixed through the water. Then she took a ladle from the table and began pouring it into each woman’s cup.

Denali took hers from the center of the table. She held it up to her lips and blew on it to cool it, and once the heat simmered she brought her lips to the edge of the cup and sipped. It was bitter, not unpleasantly though, and it brought a warmth to her chest and a heat and color to her cheeks.

“Lysanios said to be careful with the amount,” Jan said as she passed her last cup to Rosé. “These herbs have some… effects.”

Lagoona choked on her sip. “What kind of effects?”

Denali hid a laugh behind her hand, because the tone of Lagoona’s voice told her that she knew this was another of Jan’s crazy schemes.

“I don’t know.” Jan pouted in her sister’s direction. “Weird ones. They make you feel nice, okay? Why don’t you just try them and see.”

It didn’t take long for them to discover just what effects the herbs elicited.

Olivia was the first to exhibit any change. She fell silent all of a sudden, then started giggling at nothing. Jackie began giggling, too, which distracted Lagoona from her interest in the grain on the wooden table. Someone spilled a bowl of olives, so the three ended up on the floor trying to pick them up, giggling all the while.

Denali knew she was feeling the effects when the room began to speed up. She couldn’t focus on any particular conversation — instead she would hear snippets from one and then the other, and would try to piece them together but found herself lost. Jan tried telling her about the newest flower her husband brought her from abroad, but it didn’t seem like she was speaking plain Greek.

Kahmora became more quiet and elusive than normal. She perched in front of the hearth, laid luxuriously across the rug like she was posing for an artist making a statue of her. The flames glistened through her dark hair. Denali thought for a moment that she looked like a dragon, and then realized it was just the tea.

Even more images danced before her eyes, then, and it was beginning to give her a migraine. She closed her eyes. Light and sound danced around in her brain, becoming too much; then a hand on her shoulder brought her some tangible relief, and she opened her eyes. Rosé crouched in front of her with another cup in her hand, held out towards Denali.

“I cannot drink any more of that,” Denali said. Her own voice sounded foreign.

“This is plain water.” Rosé pressed the cup into her palm. “It will make you feel better. And some olives.”

Denali nodded and took the water. She drank fervently from it, and when it was empty she took one olive from Rosé’s handful and ate it. “Aren’t you feeling the effects?”

Rosé shrugged. “A little. But I have had this before on my own travels, so I know how much I should drink. I can’t say the same for my sister and her friends.” She cast a glance across the room.

Denali continued to eat. She herself did not drink very much of the tea, so she supposed it was more the shock than anything that had her feeling like this. It wasn’t long before she began to feel better. The images subsided, and rather than confusion and overwhelm she felt calm and almost giddy. She looked into Rosé’s eyes, now that she could see straight; and it was as though she had never seen them so clearly. They were green, not like the grass outside but the way the sea is green and foamy, textured, wisened. They sat in her pretty pale face and carried her whole being in them.

A clay pot broke where Lagoona and Olivia were yelling and laughing. Rosé and Denali quickly got up and shooed them away so they wouldn’t get hurt and began picking up the pieces.

Denali’s head spun, and she couldn’t tell if it was from the tea or from Rosé and how close they were in such a strange way. Strange, because they usually spent their time alone, naked, discovering their bodies and passions together; not in a home with other women, pretending like they did not share the deepest connection. Denali wasn’t even sure if the other women knew Rosé was her gynaíka gámou and she did not want them to find out. That would surely be the end of what happened between her and Rosé.

Once the pieces of the pot were collected, they took them to the table while Jan fetched a bag to put the pieces in. Denali was careless. She didn’t pay attention to the piece she picked up and her finger was pricked by a broken edge. She whimpered, and beside her Rosé saw the blood.

“Come,” Rosé said. She took Denali’s hand and brought it to her mouth. Before Denali knew it, Rosé’s lips were around her finger, her tongue dancing over the pad of it, and the sting didn’t bother her at all. They locked eyes, and not for the first time Denali felt her insides melt. Rosé began to smirk. She released Denali’s finger slowly and with a pop. “There, better.”

Her finger was, in fact, not bleeding anymore, but she was well past caring about her finger. Her cheeks burned. Rosé was still holding onto her, her grasp tight, a smirk growing wider on her face. She took a step closer, so their foreheads almost touched and their breaths mixed between them.

“You always look so pretty for me, especially when you are flushed,” Rosé said under her breath. She stepped back and took the bag from the table, wrapping the tie around it and closing it, and she stepped around Denali. But in the space between their bodies, hidden in the folds of their skirts, her hand trailed across Denali’s thigh and her ass before she continued walking out the door of the house.

Denali hadn’t realized that she was holding her breath, so she let it out. Her hands fisted in her dress. She’d never had to do this with Rosé, hold her composure in public like this while Rosé was… teasing her.

“You and Rosé get along well,” Jan said, and Denali whipped around to face her, her heart pounding.

“Yes, well, we see each other at the market and at the temple.” Denali bit the inside of her cheek to keep her nervous smile from her face. “And our husbands are in the same regiment.”

Jan nodded, satisfied by Denali’s answer. Or maybe Denali was just paranoid. She searched the table for her forgotten cup and took another sip of her herbal brew.

Rosé came back inside the house quickly. She stopped where Lagoona, Olivia, and Jackie sat. Denali studied her from afar, how her hands and chest moved when she talked, how her jawline was so lovely, and the way that mark stood out on her skin. Denali wanted to get her hands on her. So she marched across the room and wrapped her fingers around Rosé’s wrist.

“Can I speak with you?” she asked, more for courtesy than consent, and she pulled a willing Rosé out of the kitchen.

Once in the hall, Denali pushed Rosé against the wall, their bodies flush, and kissed her. Rosé made a contented noise in her throat but took Denali’s face in one hand to pull her away.

“Not here.” She took Denali’s hand in hers and led her down the hall to another room — Jan’s — and shut the door. Then she backed Denali into the wall with more force than Denali had her, her hands already hiking up Denali’s skirt and her lips at Denali’s throat. “Is this what you wanted?” she said over her skin.

“Yes.”

Rosé’s fingers kneaded into her skin and the muscles in her legs. She lifted one leg to wrap around her waist, leaving her room to press her fingers into Denali’s cunt. She rubbed circles which made Denali’s back arch, and then she fucked two fingers into her, fast and rough and Denali loved it. She loved the sound that it made and she loved the feeling of Rosé’s lips on her neck and chest. She loved the ache in her back as she reached for more. She couldn’t help herself but moan. Rosé, too, enjoyed it; Denali heard her grunts and gasps and felt her other hand tighten on her ass as it held her up.

They were so taken with each other that they didn’t hear the door open.

“Oh!”

Jan’s voice startled them apart, though they were tangled and thrown off balance. Rosé moved first, her hands coming from Denali’s skirts, and Denali’s leg fell and she nearly tumbled. But Rosé caught her waist, and they looked at each other with wide eyes before looking at Jan, who also looked bewildered.

“You were her gynaíka gámou, weren’t you?” she asked. Then she held her hand up before they could speak. “Actually, you don’t need to tell me anything. Please don’t tell me anything. But don’t do this—” Jan waved her hand in a few circles at them. “—in my room.”

“Sorry,” Denali said under her breath, her head bowed in shame. She walked towards the door, Rosé behind her.

As they passed Jan, she look Rosé’s arm. “Take her home and exhaust her all you want. She deserves it.”

Denali looked back and caught the wink that Jan sent her. It brought a smile to her face.

#spartan marriage au #rosenali #rosenali fic #rosénali #rosé #denali foxx

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aboveallarescuer · 4 years

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Daenerys Targaryen's tropes - Upbringing Makes the Hero

"Heroes are made, not born" is a common and unstated theme in a lot of works. Though a good many heroic origins proudly trot out heroes who have been raised in The Spartan Way and can look Death in the eye-sockets without blinking before leaving their Tibetan monastery home, quite a few grew up Farm Boys who never picked up anything sharper than a hoe, though those can be quite a handful.

In fact, heroes with a down to earth upbringing tend to have a unique advantage over the more badass and epic ones: they're more centered. While they won't be saints, they'll have a strong enough moral compass to navigate most moral dilemmas, resist The Dark Side, and even refute Hannibal Lectures that more emotionally fragile heroes struggle with. If they gain super powers, they won't forget "the little people" and turn into a Smug Super with delusions of grandeur. Though they didn't gain the crime-fighting prowess of a lifetime of Charles Atlas training, or the street-savvy of an orphan with a Dark and Troubled Past, they also didn't sacrifice basic skills or their social life.

Daenerys's background

A princess, Dany thought. She had forgotten what that was like. Perhaps she had never really known. (AGOT Daenerys I)

After Ser Willem had died, the servants had stolen what little money they had left, and soon after they had been put out of the big house. Dany had cried when the red door closed behind them forever.

They had wandered since then, from Braavos to Myr, from Myr to Tyrosh, and on to Qohor and Volantis and Lys, never staying long in any one place. Her brother would not allow it. The Usurper’s hired knives were close behind them, he insisted, though Dany had never seen one.

At first the magisters and archons and merchant princes were pleased to welcome the last Targaryens to their homes and tables, but as the years passed and the Usurper continued to sit upon the Iron Throne, doors closed and their lives grew meaner. Years past they had been forced to sell their last few treasures, and now even the coin they had gotten from Mother’s crown had gone. In the alleys and wine sinks of Pentos, they called her brother “the beggar king.” Dany did not want to know what they called her. (AGOT Daenerys I)

“The Milk Men shun him. Khaleesi, do you see the girl in the felt hat? There, behind the fat priest. She is a—”

“—cutpurse,” finished Dany. She was no pampered lady, blind to such things. She had seen cutpurses aplenty in the streets of the Free Cities, during the years she’d spent with her brother, running from the Usurper’s hired knives. (ACOK Daenerys III)

“My brother visited Pentos, Myr, Braavos, near all the Free Cities. The magisters and archons fed him wine and promises, but his soul was starved to death. A man cannot sup from the beggar’s bowl all his life and stay a man. I had my taste in Qarth, that was enough. I will not come to Pentos bowl in hand.”

“Better to come a beggar than a slaver,” Arstan said.

“There speaks one who has been neither.” Dany’s nostrils flared. “Do you know what it is like to be sold, squire? I do. My brother sold me to Khal Drogo for the promise of a golden crown. Well, Drogo crowned him in gold, though not as he had wished, and I ... my sun-and-stars made a queen of me, but if he had been a different man, it might have been much otherwise. Do you think I have forgotten how it felt to be afraid?” (ASOS Daenerys II)

Key examples of Daenerys's mindset and actions as queen that reflect her past experiences

Death followed death. Weak children, wrinkled old women, the sick and the stupid and the heedless, the cruel land claimed them all. Doreah grew gaunt and hollow-eyed, and her soft golden hair turned brittle as straw.

Dany hungered and thirsted with the rest of them. (ACOK Daenerys I)

“I was alone for a long time, Jorah. All alone but for my brother. I was such a small scared thing. Viserys should have protected me, but instead he hurt me and scared me worse. He shouldn’t have done that. He wasn’t just my brother, he was my king. Why do the gods make kings and queens, if not to protect the ones who can’t protect themselves?”

“Some kings make themselves. Robert did.” 

“He was no true king,” Dany said scornfully. “He did no justice. Justice ... that’s what kings are for.” (ASOS Daenerys III)

Dany set great store by Ser Jorah’s counsel, but to leave Meereen untouched was more than she could stomach. She could not forget the children on their posts, the birds tearing at their entrails, their skinny arms pointing up the coast road. “Ser Jorah, you say we have no food left. If I march west, how can I feed my freedmen?”

“You can’t. I am sorry, Khaleesi. They must feed themselves or starve. Many and more will die along the march, yes. That will be hard, but there is no way to save them. We need to put this scorched earth well behind us.”

Dany had left a trail of corpses behind her when she crossed the red waste. It was a sight she never meant to see again. “No,” she said. “I will not march my people off to die.” My children. “There must be some way into this city.” (ASOS Daenerys V)

When she looked over one shoulder, there it stood, the afternoon sun blazing off the bronze harpy atop the Great Pyramid. Inside Meereen the slavers would soon be reclining in their fringed tokars to feast on lamb and olives, unborn puppies, honeyed dormice and other such delicacies, whilst outside her children went hungry. A sudden wild anger filled her. I will bring you down, she swore. (ASOS Daenerys V)

Her audience chamber was on the level below, an echoing high-ceilinged room with walls of purple marble. It was a chilly place for all its grandeur. There had been a throne there, a fantastic thing of carved and gilded wood in the shape of a savage harpy. She had taken one long look and commanded it be broken up for firewood. “I will not sit in the harpy’s lap,” she told them. Instead she sat upon a simple ebony bench. It served, though she had heard the Meereenese muttering that it did not befit a queen. (ASOS Daenerys VI)

Reznak would have summoned another tokar next, but Dany insisted that he call upon a freedman. Thereafter she alternated between the former masters and the former slaves. (ADWD Daenerys I)

He was too eloquent for her. Dany had no answer for him, only the raw feeling in her belly. “Slavery is not the same as rain,” she insisted. “I have been rained on and I have been sold. It is not the same. No man wants to be owned.” (ADWD Daenerys III)

Her freedmen were represented by the captains of the three companies she had formed—Mollono Yos Dob of the Stalwart Shields, Symon Stripeback of the Free Brothers, Marselen of the Mother’s Men. Reznak mo Reznak hovered at the queen’s elbow, and Strong Belwas stood behind her with his huge arms crossed. Dany would not lack for counsel. (ADWD Daenerys III)

When you smashed the slave trade, the blow was felt from Westeros to Asshai. Qarth depends upon its slaves. So too Tolos, New Ghis, Lys, Tyrosh, Volantis … the list is long, my queen.”

“Let them come. In me they shall find a sterner foe than Cleon. I would sooner perish fighting than return my children to bondage.” (ADWD Daenerys IV)

“Lingering here will never bring it any closer. The sooner we take our leave of this place—”

“I know. I do.” Dany did not know how to make him see. She wanted Westeros as much as he did, but first she must heal Meereen. (ADWD Daenerys IV)

Yesterday a wagon had been overturned and two of her soldiers killed, so today the queen had determined that she would bring the food herself. Every one of her advisors had argued fervently against it, from Reznak and the Shavepate to Ser Barristan, but Daenerys would not be moved. “I will not turn away from them,” she said stubbornly. “A queen must know the sufferings of her people.” (ADWD Daenerys VI)

#daenerys targaryen #dany tropes #a dance with dragons #a storm of swords #a clash of kings

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