#cs rebecca

[cstveamaryllis]

HERE IS A GIFT FOR THE CARMEN SANDIEGO OC CREATORS AND THE COMMUNITY! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR BEING SUCH A LOVELY COMMUNITY! THANK YOU FOR MAKING ME THE HAPPIEST IVE EVER BEEN IN MONTHS

OCS AND OWNERS

@csvamaryllis (me) - AMARYLLIS

@the-cs-oc-archives - HEERA, MIDNIGHT, FAHEEMA

@electricvinyls - WHIZZER

@skipppppy - RANA, LAPIN, FUGU

@monicaoverthinker - REBECCA

@cowboylovin - TAMA

@vile-deathbeat - DEATHBEAT

@itsdappleagain - PYTHON

@pattysplaceofplaces - HEARTACHE

@gray-crackleway - SOUNDBITE

@mienacles - MIEN NAINA

@avweckman - JAILBREAK

@anotheroneofthegaysharks - THUNDERBIRD

@haveaclock - SHANZI

@rightapichen - MAYA, ADMIRAL

@mochimouiemarty - CHIPPER

@random-lil-illing - TABITHA

@myths-of-fantasy - KITU

@the-ghost-17 - EL LOVO

[whewchilly]

carlossainz55 It's gonna be an intense one, and we are ready for it!!

[stars-and-branches]

|Dark Rise, C.S. Pacat|Gallant, V.E. Schwab|Under the Whispering Door, T.J. Klune|Divine Rivals, Rebecca Ross|Tumblr user @stardustemotions |

[bigdreamsandwildthings]

Got my hands on my top two most anticipated new releases this weekend 🖤

[servants-hall]

Call the Midwife stars tease "tears and laughter" in 2024 Christmas special

Stephen McGann and Rebecca Gethings speak with RadioTimes.com on the red carpet at this year's NTAs.

[...]

Asked about what fans can expect from this year's special, McGann said: "It is all the fun of the fair and also the normal kind of darkness you would expect with Call the Midwife."

Meanwhile, Gethings teased: "There will be tears and laughter, it's heartwarming as always. It's about community but yeah, they're always tested at Christmas, it's not just about cuddles and Horlicks."

McGann then added: "And it's a very special episode, Christmas for us in our show, and that's the one people particularly respond to. I think it comes in as part of the festival and the year, which we're incredible flattered by, but it makes it that bit more special. Christmas is a special one."

McGann also spoke about what it means to see the show included on this year's shortlist at the NTAs, explaining: "It's lovely! I'm amazed, because it's always done by the public, and we were just saying, [the fact] that we get through like this after so many years, that we're even shortlisted, it's something we never, ever take for granted.

"And a message for everyone who did vote for us: thank you very much. It does mean a lot to us. We love our show, but we love it when people respond in that wonderful way."

[webvampzz]

silly billy :3

[rayless-reblogs]

20 Book Challenge

I saw this challenge on a post by @theresebelivett. The idea is you pick 20 of your books to take with you to a desert island, but you can only pick one book per author and series. Here are two further guidelines I set myself: They have to be books I actually own, as if I really am gathering them up under my arms and heading to the island; and I'm defining "book" as a single volume -- so if I just so happen to have 100 novellas squashed between two covers, it still counts as one book.

We'll go alphabetically by author.

Charlotte Bronte: Jane Eyre. An old standby, a classic, I can jump into it at any point.

Daphne du Maurier: Rebecca. Have only read it once, but loved it and I suspect I'll get more from it each time.

Clare B Dunkle: The Hollow Kingdom. If I can only take one book from this excellent and unusual goblin series that captivated me in the mid-2000s, it'd better be the first one.

William Goldman: The Princess Bride. This book had an outsize influence on my own writing. I can quote a lot of it, but I wouldn't want to be without it.

Shannon Hale: Book of a Thousand Days. I love the warmth and humility of its heroine Dashti. Plus, Shannon Hale very kindly wrote a personal response to a fan letter I sent her years and years ago, so her work always has a special place in my heart.

Georgette Heyer: Cotillion. I don't actually own my favorite Georgette novel, but the funny, awkward, and ultimately romantic Cotillion is definitely not a pitiful second-stringer.

Eva Ibbotson: A Countess Below Stairs. Countess was my introduction to Eva's adult romances, and she is the past master of warm, hardworking heroines who should really be annoying because they're way too good to be true, but somehow you just end up falling in love with them.

Norton Juster: The Phantom Tollbooth. I first read this when I was like eight, and even for an adult, its quirky humor and zingy wordplay hold up, no problem.

Gaston Leroux: The Phantom of the Opera. Can't leave without Erik, nope, the French potboiler has got to come. Perhaps I will spend my time on the island writing the inevitable crossover fanfic, The Phantom of the Tollbooth.

CS Lewis: Till We Have Faces. Faces is my current answer for what my favorite book is, so I'm taking that, though it feels criminal to leave The Silver Chair behind.

LM Montgomery: The Blue Castle. As much as I love Anne and Emily, it came down to Blue Castle and A Tangled Web, and I'm a sucker for Valancy's romantic journey.

E Nesbit: Five Children and It. Probably the most classic Edwardian children's fantasy, though still a hard choice to make. Nesbit is another author who had a huge influence on me as a writer.

Robert C O'Brien: Mrs Frisby and the Rats of NIMH. A childhood book I'm really sentimental about. I should re-read it.

Meredith Ann Pierce: The Darkangel. The first in the archaic lunar vampire trilogy. This will always be frustrating, only having the first in the series, but if I can only read the first, maybe I'll forget about how angry the third novel left me.

Sherwood Smith: Crown Duel. At one time, this swords-and-manners fantasy duet was one of my absolute favorite fandoms, and clever me has both books in one volume, so I don't have to choose.

Anne Elisabeth Stengl: Starflower. My favorite of the Tales of Goldstone Wood series. We'll have to test whether I can actually get sick of Eanrin.

JRR Tolkien: The Lord of the Rings. I've never actually read it through as an adult and, look at that, I have a three-in-one volume. Cheating!

Vivian Vande Velde: Spellbound. I've read much of VVV's YA fantasy and liked a lot of it, but none more so than The Conjurer Princess and its fast-paced tale of revenge. The Spellbound edition includes the prequel and a bonus short story, so I'm good to go.

PG Wodehouse: The World of Mr Mulliner. There are some hilarious novels I'm leaving behind here, including all the Bertie Wooster stuff. But there are some absurdly fun Mulliner stories and this edition is like three hundred pages. That'll keep me happy for a long while on my island.

Jack Zipes (editor): Spells of Enchantment. This is an enormous compilation of western fairy tales. I've owned it since 2004 or so, and I've still never finished it. Now, on my island, I'll no longer have the excuse.

Tagging anyone else who feels like doing this!

[andrealvsbooks]

Hi!

If anyone has any ideas for a one shot or multi chapter fanfics that are from Harry Potter, the chronicles of Narnia or the empyre saga, I'll be happy if you leave them in my question box to try to write them.

[loafysainz]

Run Rabbit, Run | CS 55

carlos sainz x fem!reader

warn: mdni, possessive, harsh carlos, cheating

please do not read it uf youre not into dark fic!

prev

The house was a prison dressed in luxury. Marble floors, towering glass walls, expensive chandeliers casting golden light over spaces too grand to feel like home. No neighbors. No roads leading in or out. Just endless trees and the man who owned them all. It was beautiful—but suffocating. 

Carlos had made sure of that.

Unless she made one. 

Y/N knew she had to leave.

It wasn’t just guilt—it was something deeper, something that gnawed at her, keeping her awake at night as she lay tangled in silk sheets that smelled of Carlos. She wanted to be happy. To have a real life. A husband, children, a future where she wasn’t someone’s dirty secret. 

She couldn’t be his secret anymore.

Rebecca existed. She was real. A flesh-and-blood woman who deserved better than to have her fiancé sneaking off into the night to fuck someone else. Y/N had tried to ignore it, tried to silence the voice in her head that screamed at her every time Carlos pressed her against the walls of his mansion, but she couldn’t anymore.

She had to get out.

But escaping Carlos Sainz was easier said than done.

Security cameras in every corner, high walls, guards at the entrance. Carlos wasn’t careless—he was meticulous. Y/N knew he kept an eye on her even when he wasn’t home, watching her through the screens in his private office. Even the staff in the house—guards, maids, chefs—answered only to him. There was no way out. She was his, and he would never let her go willingly.

So she planned. Carefully, meticulously. 

Every step had to be calculated, and every move executed perfectly. One mistake, and he’d find out. And if Carlos found out?

She didn’t want to think about what would happen.

—

For weeks, Y/N observed everything. The way the guards changed shifts, which doors were locked at night, which ones weren’t. The windows that didn’t have alarms. The places in the house where the cameras had blind spots. She memorized every inch of the house, looking for an opening.

And finally, she had a plan.

She had been playing the perfect role for a week now—sweet, submissive, eager to please. She smiled when he touched her, melted into his arms when he pulled her close, and whispered soft praises against his skin, all while hiding the raw desperation pooling in her chest.

Because she knew.

She knew that Carlos watched her like a hawk, his dark eyes tracing her every movement, his presence a constant shadow pressing against her skin. He had rules and expectations. And if she misbehaved and dared to push against the invisible walls he built around her, he would make her regret it.

She had seen his anger before.

She wasn’t foolish enough to provoke it again.

Which was why she had spent seven days keeping him satisfied. Keeping him distracted. Letting him believe that she had finally settled into the life he had crafted for her.

But tonight—tonight was her only chance to run.

And she was going to take it.

—

The evening was heavy with heat, the scent of burning wood from the grand fireplace curling through the massive bedroom. Carlos stood near the window, his bare chest illuminated by the soft glow of the moon filtering through the glass. He looked every bit the predator he was—broad shoulders tense, muscles rippling under his tanned skin, the scar on his abdomen a brutal reminder that men like him had fought for everything they owned.

And Carlos? He owned her.

Or so he thought.

“Come here, cariño,” he murmured, his voice thick with the kind of authority that left no room for argument.

Y/N obeyed. Because that was what he expected. Because tonight, she couldn’t risk raising suspicion.

She stepped between his legs as he sat on the edge of the bed, his large hands immediately finding her waist, fingers pressing into her softness with unmistakable possession.

“You’ve been good this week,” he mused, tilting his head as if studying her, his lips ghosting over the pulse in her throat. “Too good.”

Her breath hitched.

Carlos knew.

Or at least, he suspected.

She forced a small smile, running her fingers through his thick, dark hair, pretending she wasn’t trembling inside. "I just… wanted to make you happy," she whispered, hoping he would buy it.

A slow smirk curled on his lips as he pulled her onto his lap, forcing her thighs to straddle his. "You always make me happy, mi amor," he murmured, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her collarbone. His voice darkened. “But you’ve never been this obedient before.”

Her stomach twisted.

“Do you know what that makes me think?” he continued, his hands sliding up her back, his grip unrelenting.

She swallowed hard. “What?”

“That you’re hiding something.”

Her breath stuttered, but she forced herself to laugh softly, leaning in to brush her lips against his jaw. “What would I be hiding, Carlos?”

His hands flexed around her hips. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

Y/N’s heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it. She needed to distract him. Now.

So she kissed him.

Hard.

It was desperate, feverish, an act of submission that she knew he would take as proof of her devotion. Carlos growled against her lips, one hand tangling in her hair, the other gripping her hip so tight she knew there would be bruises tomorrow. But that didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered except keeping his guard down.

His tongue slid against hers, demanding, possessive, hungry. He kissed like a man who needed to consume like letting her go would kill him. And maybe, in some twisted way, it would.

Carlos ripped her silk nightgown off in one swift motion, tossing it somewhere behind them. His hands roamed freely, mapping the curves he already knew by heart, his breath hot against her skin. “Tell me, cariño,” he murmured, voice thick with desire as he nipped at her jaw. “Do you love me?”

Y/N's nails dug into his shoulders. “Yes,” she breathed because he wanted to hear that.

Because lying was the only way to survive.

Carlos groaned, flipping her onto the bed in a blur of movement, his body pressing her down into the silk sheets. His eyes were dark—ravenous. “Dímelo otra vez,” he demanded, lips brushing against her ear. “Tell me again.”

“I love you,” she whispered, hating how easily the lie slipped from her lips.

Carlos rewarded her with another bruising kiss, his hands trailing down, fingers teasing, claiming, possessing.

And Y/N let him.

Because tonight was the last time she would ever let him touch her.

—

His mouth was on hers before she could respond, his kiss so deep—claiming. He didn’t just want her—he wanted to remind her that she belonged to him.

His hands made quick work of the dress she was wearing, sliding it down her body until it pooled at her feet. His touch was rough, desperate, like he could sense something was off but didn’t know what.

Y/N let herself sink into it one last time.

One last time, she let him ruin her. Let him mark her with bruises that wouldn’t fade by morning. It wasn’t easy to do—he had an almost inhuman amount of energy when it came to taking what he wanted. But tonight, she had given him everything he asked for. She had let him break her, let him claim her in every way he could, let him fall into the heavy, satisfied sleep of a man who believed he owned her.

Carlos growled her name as he came, pressing his forehead against hers as he caught his breath. His hands stayed on her, holding her close like he never wanted to let go.

Like he never would.

Y/N’s heart clenched painfully as she ran her fingers through his damp hair, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

“Te amo,” he murmured against her skin, half-asleep, completely unaware that she was about to disappear from his life forever.

Y/N closed her eyes.

Then, she whispered, “I love you too.”

And when Carlos finally drifted off to sleep.

She slipped out of bed, heart pounding so violently she thought it might burst from her chest.

She had memorized every creaking floorboard, every security detail. She had spent weeks gathering what little supplies she could.

And now? Now it was time.

—

She grabbed the small backpack hidden under the dresser, slipping into dark clothes and silent footsteps. The cool night air hit her as she cracked the bedroom door open, her stomach twisting when she saw the security cameras positioned along the hallway.

But she had planned for this.

Her escape route was through the back—one of the kitchen doors had a faulty lock. She had overheard a maid complaining about it. The security team hadn’t fixed it yet. 

She didn’t look back. She moved quickly, sticking to the shadows, staying out of the cameras’ view as she made her way toward the broken door she had found.

Her heart pounded as she stepped out, cool night air kissing her skin. She had only seconds before someone noticed she was gone. 

She made it past the garden. Reached the outer gates, before she heard it. 

A voice as smooth as silk but laced with something far more dangerous. 

“Where do you think you're going, mi amor?” 

Her heart stopped. 

Every part of her froze. 

Slowly—terrifyingly slow—she turned. And there he was. 

Carlos. 

Standing in the dim glow of the estate’s lights, his sharp features shadowed, his broad chest rising and falling with slow, controlled breaths. He was still in his dress shirt from earlier, sleeves rolled up, the top buttons undone, revealing golden skin and the hint of defined muscles. 

But it wasn’t his beauty that terrified her. 

It was his eyes. 

Dark. Wild. 

Burning with something lethal. 

A slow smirk curved his lips. But there was no amusement in it—only cold, simmering fury. 

“You look like you've seen a ghost, cariño.” 

Y/N stumbled a step back. 

Carlos tilted his head, his expression eerily calm. 

“Go on,” he murmured, voice soft. “Run.” 

Her stomach dropped. 

Panic exploded in her chest, but before she could take another step— 

He moved. 

Fast. 

Too fast. 

A choked gasp tore from her lips as his hand shot out, gripping her wrist in a punishing hold. She yelped as he yanked her forward, her body slamming against his with bruising force. 

“Did you really think you could escape me?” Carlos whispered against her ear, his voice deadly. 

Y/N trembled, her breath coming in frantic little gasps. 

“Carlos—"

But she couldn’t speak. 

Couldn’t breathe. 

Because his fingers wrapped around her chin, forcing her to look up. His dark eyes bore into hers, unreadable, terrifying. 

“Let me go, Carlos,” she gasped, struggling, but his grip only tightened. 

“Let you go?” He laughed, but there was no humor in it. His free hand tangled in her hair, pulling her head back so she had no choice but to look up at him. His jaw was clenched, veins bulging against his skin. “You belong to me, Y/N. There is no leaving. You know that.” 

Tears burned in her eyes. “I can’t do this anymore—" 

“Yes, you can.” His voice was sharp, demanding. “You can and you will.” 

She shook her head. “I want a life, Carlos. A real life. I want to get married, have kids—" 

His eyes darkened. “You want a husband? You want kids?” His fingers traced down her jaw, deceptively gentle. “Fine. Then I’ll marry you. I’ll give you my children. I’ll give you everything—except freedom.” 

Her breath caught. 

“Carlos—"

He crushed his lips against hers. 

The kiss was nothing like the ones before. It wasn’t sweet or coaxing. It was punishment. Desperate, angry, claiming. His hands slid down her body, gripping, owning, as if he wanted to remind her that no one else would ever touch her like this. 

He lifted her effortlessly, throwing her over his shoulder as she gasped and pounded against his back. 

"Carlos, stop—!" 

He carried her inside, past the staff who had quickly disappeared, knowing better than to get in his way. 

The bedroom door slammed behind them. 

She barely had time to breathe before he pinned her against the wall, his body flush against hers. 

“You wanted to run from me?” His voice was low, dangerous. His fingers traced down her arms, making her shiver.

Y/N trembled, her breath coming in frantic little gasps. 

“Carlos—"

But she couldn’t speak. 

Couldn’t breathe. 

Because his fingers wrapped around her chin, forcing her to look up. His dark eyes bore into hers, unreadable, terrifying. 

“Answer me. Did you think I would let you go?” he murmured. “That I would just let you slip through my fingers like some fucking mistake?”

A shiver ran down her spine. 

“Please—”

Carlos’s grip tightened. 

“Shhh.” His thumb traced her trembling bottom lip, his touch deceptively gentle. “I want to hear you beg, but not for that.”

Y/N whimpered as he leaned down, his breath warm against her ear. 

“Listen to me, corazón,” he whispered, his voice turning rough. “Even if you run until your legs give out, even if you die trying—I will still chase you. Even if you leave this world, I will follow you to the next.”

Her breath hitched. 

“You are mine. No one else’s. No one ever fucking touches you, do you understand?” 

She swallowed hard, her body caught between fear and something far more dangerous—something she didn’t want to name. 

Carlos’s lips brushed against her jaw, sending a sharp, electric shock through her system. His grip on her waist tightened, his fingers digging into her soft flesh possessively. 

“Look at you,” he murmured, trailing kisses down her throat, “so fucking perfect. So fucking beautiful.” 

A deep, guttural sound rumbled in his chest as his hands slid down, gripping her hips, pulling her flush against him. 

“Carlos, please—" 

“Please what?” He kissed her jaw, her neck, biting down just enough to make her whimper. “Please remind you who you belong to? Please fuck you so hard you forget why you ever wanted to leave?” 

Heat pooled low in her stomach. 

“Carlos, stop—"

But he silenced her with a kiss. 

Not gentle. Not soft. 

Devouring.

It was teeth and tongue, a bruising, punishing clash of mouths that left her gasping. His hands roamed her body, fingers tangling in her hair, gripping her waist like he needed to mold her against him. 

“You belong to me,” he growled, pulling back just enough to nip at her bottom lip. “Say it.” 

She shook her head, her breathing ragged. 

Carlos’s eyes flashed. 

He threw her onto the bed, his body following immediately after, pinning her down beneath his weight. His dark eyes burned into hers, his hand sliding up her thigh, hiking up the flimsy dress she had dared to run in. 

“You tried to leave me,” he murmured, voice low, dangerous. “That means you need to be punished, cariño.”

His lips trailed down her neck, hot and unrelenting. His fingers toyed her clothes with his breath heavy, burning. 

“You’re mine, cariño,” he murmured against her skin. “And I am going to remind you exactly who you belong to.”

His hands ripped her clothes apart. 

And then there was no more running. No more thoughts of escape. 

END

[metalandmagi]

The people who say Rebecca Yarros writes the best cliffhangers wouldn't last a goddamn second waiting between CS Pacat books.

[billciphersrpblog]

HAH, TRYING TO GET AWAY WITH MURDERING EVERYONE, ARE YOU, SIXER? GOOD LUCK WITH THAT!

YOU'RE ABOUT TO COMMIT MASS-MURDER, KIDS! IF YOU'RE GONNA ASSUME NONE OF THE DEAD RESIDENTS WILL HAVE A PROBLEM WITH IT, YOU'RE JUST AS CUCKOO AS I AM!

"Um, excuse me? I had a question about something and I...I'm hoping you'll have an answer? Or at least the start to an answer...? You don't have to or anything, this may just be a shot in the dark and it's all for nothing...

It's about the Zodiac."

@rebecca-pines

[Ford’s eyes widen as he stares back at her]

The Zodiac…?

[livingfortheadrenaline]

just my fav cs ocs so far 👏👏👏

oc's mentioned: Aroma/Rebecca Blake - @monicaoverthinker

Blank - @cs-blank-au-official

[whewchilly]

carlossainz55 Riding around 📍🍏

[thoughtfulfangirling]

Some recommendations of classics, not organized just what came to mind

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë

Sherlock Holmes stories by Arthur Conan Doyle (he’s at his best in short story format but Hounds of the Baskervilles is the best novel)

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson

The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins

The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas

Bleak House by Charles Dickens

Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

My Cousin Rachel by Daphne du Maurier

Till We Have Faces by CS Lewis

You mentioned the Odyssey so the Iliad if you have not read it already

I can do more genre specific if you would like and if you want Golden Age mystery I will have many opinions

Oh my god, this is delightful! Thank you!

I've read a handful of these, but a couple could really use a refresher. A lot of the ones associated with Halloween-time I did in the last couple of years, but there are absolutely some I haven't read and find promising.

The Count of Monte Cristo really is something I absolutely should read and definitely needs to be on my list for next year!I knew I wanted to do more Dickens, but didn't actually know a ton of titles off the top of my head for his books, so thank you for Bleak House. I had never herad of Rebecca or Daphne du Maurier, so that's probably a must read if not even the author is on my radar! I did The Chronicles of Narnia as a kid and never thought to check out anything else by CS Lewis so that's actually a really great idea. And yes! In my brain, The Odyssey and the Iliad are interchangeable so those are likely MUST reads so my brain can't try to do that to me anymore XD

I will be tagging this to find again around the new year, but wanted to post now to show my appreciation and get out there the kind of thing I'm trying to do.

I traditionally also just haven't done mystery, but that means I'm especially ignorant to the type of stuff that formed the modern day landscape of the genre and might be really fun!

[servants-hall]

Call The Midwife - Magazine Round Up: Lead up to the 2023 CS

Here are the CTM features and previews from the recent UK magazines (they come out faster in December):

16-22 December 2023

TV Times

What's on TV

[fanficrocks]

A little something that came out of an exchange of comments on a fic…

The names of the Chief Superintendents in the Morseverse are so interesting, with all of them being adjectives that could describe their holders (even if they don’t necessarily do so).

In Endeavour, we get CS Bright… who absolutely has his redeeming features, but isn’t exactly the brightest bulb in the bunch.

In Inspector Morse, we get CS Strange - arguably the best named of the lot (Strange by name and strange by nature; and yet a true friend to Morse at the end)

In Lewis, we first get 8 glorious seasons of CS Innocent - and as Rebecca Front said in a bts show, Innocent refers to the name and NOT the character! And then, we get CS Moody, who might be unpredictable as the weather in the single season we see him in, but doesn’t truly seem moody in the strictest sense of the word.

Wonder what the writers/creators of the show were trying to get at with those 🙄