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fearthephenom · 8 days ago

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"If you want to direct, watch things." -Kenneth Branagh, Pt. III

Ten years ago I gave myself the challenge of watching 52 films in 52 weeks. I called it, "If you want to direct, watch things." My goal was to learn what I liked, why, and to encourage myself to write.

I exceeded my objective and ended my year with 150 films. I learned a little more about myself and what I could accomplish.

Over the years, I have lost motivation for my personal wellbeing. I've been overworked, stressed, depressed, unable to focus - but I'm feeling better now.

So, now I want to do it again. I want to push myself, challenge myself... because I can, because I'm up to it.

Objective: Watch 150 films/television shows. Goal: To know I can put my mind to something and accomplish it. Movie | Short Film | Television Show | Re-watch

JANUARY [001/150] Saltburn

[002/150] Essex Girls* [003/150] The Heart* [004/150] The Masterpiece* [005/150] Say Hi After You Die* [006/150] The Looming* *Sundance Film Festival

FEBRUARY* [007/150] Nip/Tuck** [008/150] Maggie Moore(s) [009/150] Ladybird [010/150] The Holdovers [011/150] The Lobster [012/150] Shrek [013/150] The Blackening [014/150] How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days [015/150] Triangle of Sadness [016/150] Ticket to Paradise [017/150] The Strange Thing About the Johnsons [018/150] Shrek 2 [019/150] Pitch Black Heist [020/150] Cinderella (1997) [021/150] The Big Year [022/150] Ella Enchanted [023/150] My Neighbor Totoro [024/150] Ratatouille [025/150] Hotel Chevalier [026/150] Fantastic Mr. Fox [027/150] Turning Red [028/150] First Wives Club [029/150] It Comes at Night [030/150] My Red Balloon [031/150] Dumbo [032/150] Call Me by Your Name [033/150] Lady and the Tramp [034/150] Chico Virtual [035/150] Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves

MARCH [036/150] The Iron Claw [037/150] The Devil Wears Prada [038/150] Spider-Man [039/150] The Big Shave [040/150] Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire [041/150] The Lorax

APRIL*** [042/150] Monster's Inc. [043/150] Gravity Falls [044/150] Robin Hood [045/150] Inside Out [046/150] MacFarland USA

MAY [047/150] Hannibal [048/150] Zo [049/150] What Happens Later [050/150] Clarence [051/150] Challengers [052/150] Fleabag [053/150] A Dark Place [054/150] The Lost City [055/150] Genie

JUNE**** [056/150] All of Us Strangers [057/150] Boys [058/150] Moonlight [059/150] In+Out [060/150] My Policeman [061/150] Pride [062/150] Garfield [063/150] Our Son [064/150] Acuitzeramo [065/150] Foreigner (Extranjero) [066/150] Shake It All About [067/150] Lavender [068/150] Flu$h [069/150] Staccato [070/150] I Am Syd Stone [071/150] Soft Lad [072/150] Strange Way of Life [073/150] Am I Okay? [074/150] Schitt's Creek [075/150] Spiderman: Into the Spider-Verse [076/150] Inside Out 2

JULY [077/150] Jaws 3D [078/150] Twisters [079/150] Cobra Kai [080/150] Deadpool and Wolverine

AUGUST [081/150] The Door [082/150] Unknown [083/150] Derry Girls [084/150] Sex and the City [085/150] We Bare Bears [086/150] Coffee Shop Names [087/150] Emergency Contact [088/150] La La Land [089/150] Sex and the City [090/150] Manic [091/150] What's a Nice Girl Like You Doing in a Place Like This [092/150] Culpa

SEPTEMBER [093/150] The Perfect Couple [094/150] Beetlejuice Beetlejuice [095/150] Hostel [096/150] Teen Titans [097/150] Dug Days: Carl's Date [098/150] Piper [099/150] Grotesquerie [0100/150] Mr. McMahon

OCTOBER***** [101/150] Saw X [102/150] Don't Breathe 2 [103/150] I Saw the TV Glow [104/150] Escape Room [105/150] Escape Room: Tournament of Champions [106/150] Consume [107/150] Turncoats [108/150] Sunrise [109/150] The Mary Alice Brandon File [110/150] The Groundskeeper [111/150] Masque [112/150] We've Met Before [113/150] The Purge [114/150] The Purge: Anarchy [115/150] Saw Unrated [116/150] The Purge: Election Year [117/150] The Midnight Meat Train [118/150] The Strangers [119/150] Hard Candy [120/150] Saw (.5) [121/150] Captured [123/150] Oh Death [124/150] The First Purge [125/150] The Collector [126/150] Trap [127/150] Sinister [128/150] The Skeleton Key [129/150] Queen of the Damned [130/150] The Forever Purge [131/150] Hannibal Rising [132/150] A Haunting in Venice [133/150] Scream

NOVEMBER [134/150] Palm Springs Weekend [135/150] Sinatra in Palm Springs [136/150] Wall-E

*Monthly Challenge: Watch one movie a day. **Monthly Challenge: Re-watch Nip/Tuck. Did not complete. ***Monthly Challenge: Watch four movies. ****Monthly Challenge: Watch LGBTQ+ movies. *****Monthly Challenge: Watch 31 Spooky-season movies.

#If you want to direct watch things #film #television #monthly challenge

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poisonousdelights · 9 months ago

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You would know, you loaded me down with it! I'm sharing, by the way, so whenever you want to come over and have movie night or something it'll be here.

I got a lot more too. It seemed like a lot of people were into the chocolate idea so I grabbed some at the store when the prices were slashed.

[user looks at the stockpile of chocolate she has purchased for Isa that she's been squirreling away for weeks]

There is no such thing as too much chocolate. Especially if you put the chocolate in the freezer. BUT, if you wait until the day after, then the prices go waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay down.

#Maggie #Maggie: 003 #dash convos

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r-maggs · 2 years ago

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Maggie Reece Outfits >> Cerimônia 003

#(outfits.) i got that red lip classic thing that you like #cerimonio 004

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guiltyfilthysoularchive · 1 year ago

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.. guiltyfilthysoul. ! an independent mutually exclusive fandomless blog. original character with original lore. this blog will include not safe for work content and triggering themes. themes include : the unwanted child, abusive parents, death mentions, drug and alcohol addiction, alcoholism, mental breakdowns, losing someone close to you, losing yourself, not-guilty verdicts, and getting revenge on those who took something from you.

heavily affiliated with the likes and lore of @woodridgehollow.

001. just be chill, seriously. no kind of hate-speech. we’re all adults, ( at least be over the age of twenty-one to interact with me please ) so treat each other as you want to be treated. i’m nice and easy to get along with, treat me with respect and i’ll do the same for you, it’s as simple as that.

002. this is a safe space for myself and my writing partners. if you need something specific tagged, trigger wise, please let me know and i’ll more than likely oblige. otherwise basic trigger tags will be used.

003. i ship with chemistry. and more than likely, i ship with my out of character friends. this is a multi-verse, multi-ship blog. if that’s not something you’re into, then i’m sorry, this is not a space for you. established relationships otherwise ( familial / platonic / hateship / any other dynamics ) are welcome.

004. this is not my main writing platform. i have obligations that lead me to sometimes be busy and sometimes my brain doesn’t work right and the muse is gone. please take that into consideration if you’re willing to write together.

005. main blog is notladylikes. follows will most likely come from there.

CINDERELLA’S DEAD NOW, CASKET.

my sister, she’s gone missing. cops ‘round these parts are all real interested in the case, til they realize it’s got foul play written all over it, and now they’re putting it off - saying they’ll ‘look into it.’ lazy fucks. all of ‘em. the likelihood they’ll actually do their job is slim to none, ‘cause they can’t be bothered to do actual work. that’s blasphemous, in their eyes. preacher says he’ll get on them, but that’s a waste of time. he’s feedin’ my mama a sack of bullshit. talkin’ about how god will help us in our hour of need, but if god were listening, would maggie’ve gone missing in the first place?

i think something’s up with this town, the people never paid much attention to me, i was always the one that came first, the screw up. once i hit teen years everybody stopped looking at me and started lookin’ past me. but maggie? she was the golden child. voted nicest person in town, or some bullshit like that. got a sash even. they used to look at me like that when i was real young, like i had potential. then at thirteen i started causin’ a ruckus because my mama would rather dote on her ‘new family’ instead of payin’ attention to her old one, and things all went to shit.

maggie and me though, we got a bond like no other. i feel so lost without her, like a part of me is just defunct altogether. there’s a hole in my heart where she’s supposed to be that’s gone dormant, i can’t feel her anymore. i’m gonna find out what happened to maggie, if it’s the last thing i do. so y’all better prepare yourselves, ‘cause if somethin’s done happened to her, there’ll be hell to pay.

it should have been me. it should have been me. it should have been me.

#pinned.#dni.#rogue. / she/her. / thirty.#main blog : notladylikes !

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islaricci · 2 years ago

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Task #001 - All My Favorite Songs

001. Empire State of Mind - Alicia Keys, Jay Z 002. Barbie Girl - Aqua 003. Young and Beautiful - Lana Del Rey 004. Come & Get It - Selena Gomez 005. Commander - Kelly Rowland 006. Long Way 2 Go - Cassie 007. Pretty Girl - Maggie Lindemann 008. Bitch Better Have My Money - Rihanna 009. when the party is over - Billie Eilish 010. Hometown Glory - Adele 011. One Last Time - Ariana Grande

#easthaventask001 #essentially tried to put together songs that k ind of goes with her time line

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feelswrvng · 1 year ago

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despite his attempts of reassurance, the knowledge that there was someone else present lingered in the back of her mind. she enjoyed his mouth and was unsure if he was far more experienced and skilled than the boys she'd hooked up with before him, or if there was the added thrill of everything: his obsession, the danger he represented, the third party. regardless, there was no denying she was succumbing to this man's seduction, hips bucking into his, back arching, nipples hardening under each of his ministrations.

maggie had been under a haze of pleasure, so much so that when he announced he'd be releasing her hands she felt a little confused. for several moments she blinked at him, flexing her fingers but still maintaining her hands where he had left them. "i-" maggie followed his gaze, heat filling her cheeks faster than she had taken to process his instructions. "but i've never-" she'd fucked boys, of course, but more often than not it had been in the dark and over before it had truly begun. maggie didn't think anyone had ever looked directly at her and this man just expected her to- "i don't think i can do that." she straightened her skirt slightly. "i'm sorry," maggie mumbled weakly, wondering how pissed off he'd be. "i'll try to do something else to make you happy. please." @kiillmeromantically

it hadn’t occurred to her to cover herself up, to fight his hold and regain domain over her hands and tug up her clothes. instead, she remained where he’d placed her, exposing her as he deemed fit and playing her body like a fiddle. maggie convinced herself she was playing along, protecting herself but she knew her protests were weak at best, that some part of her was too curious, and when his mouth made her writhe on his lap, she knew she’d only become more compliant in the future. “he still has eyes,” she whispered, though she knew her back was facing the driver and only the man in front of her actually had a full view of her breasts

maggie had been desperate when she’d kissed him; desperate to quiet herself, to not draw the attention of the third party, to not sound like a desperate slut. and yet when he pinched her nipples, she reacted, unaccustomed to that kind of pleasure. her hips bucked into his, a whimper pulled from the depths of her throat. and once he fell into steady grinding motions, maggie couldn’t help but respond. he pushed and she pulled, he bumped and she grinded. “but-” he wasn’t all that mattered. he couldn’t be. she had work. promotions. she had family. she had friends. she- “oh,” she hissed between her teeth, legs trembling slightly. “you’re all that matters to me.” in that moment he was. and in that moment, maggie realized she’d say anything he wanted her to, so long as he didn’t stop whatever the hell it was he was doing that made her insides coil so deliciously. “more. please.”

she was going to be his perfect little doll and he knew it. she wasn’t even trying to fight him when he knew that she wasn’t trying to stop him. he would have laughed but he knew that was the wrong thing to do. instead he merely smiled as she wiggled on his lap and rolled his eyes. she was clearly so worried about his driver,” he doesn’t care,” he told her,” he is paid to be concerned with whatever i tell him, nothing more.” it was clear that he was going to have a lot to teach her but the first thing was that she was only to worry about him. he forced himself to break the kiss because he wanted to hear her. instead he smiled as her hips bucked against his, a whimper coming from her.

he still didn’t let go of her hands and instead he began to yank her skirt up. the fabric bunched at her hips and he went right back to grinding into her. his fingers were reaching to pinch and tug at her nipples. she was already moving against him and his eye brows arched up at her words. she seemed like she was going to protest. instead she stopped herself and said exactly what he wanted her to say. he smirked as she felt her legs trembling and he knew that he wanted to see what he could make her do,” i’m going to let go of your hands.” he waited a few seconds before he actually did release them,” i want you to pull these to the side.” he motioned towards her panties which he was so tempted to rip,” and show me that pretty cunt.” the ride they were taking was to home that was outside of the city and they had plenty of time.

#003: kiillmeromantically #kiillmeromantically #muse: maggie

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derekelliscohen · 3 years ago

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“Maggie.” Derek’s head cocked off the side at the sight of the woman on the sidewalk. He’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that she was on his mind more than he knew she probably should be. But honestly at this point the figments of his imagination was all the fun he needed. However, seeing her would always pique his interest once again. “Long time no see, how’ve you been?”

@maggierhodes

#maggie 003

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maggiexrhodes · 2 years ago

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Task #003 - House Tour

Maggie lives in the house near the lighthouse, which she helps keep up with, in Old Bridgeport. It has five bedrooms (four of which are seen above, the fifth will be a nursery), three bathrooms (two seen above, other is a guest bathroom), decent sized kitchen and dining room, a living room, and a patio that goes out to a little garden and then a path going down to a private beach.

#bridgeporttask #task;003 #maggie;home

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starlit-lilies · 3 years ago

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FOUND AND LOST

Libby, Tomas, and Lily find each other in the midst of the fighting at the farm, and Libby and Tomas must make a choice.

@libbyblum @sagetomashardy

The noise from the farm fades further into the background as Tomas slogs his way up the shore in the direction of the farmhouses, the cul-de-sac, as it were. If he was at the moment more able to pinpoint things spatially, he might realize the thin spire of smoke in the distance correlates to the Hardy High House, but he's fighting the blood that wants to gum his eyelashes together, keeping an iron grip on that bone scraper in one hand and banding squirming little Flora against his chest with the other. She keeps flailing and kicking, strong in the way that toddlers are when they want their own way, making frustrated sounds and starting to protest, "Down! Down! Go down!"

"Exactly what Daddy's trying to prevent, posy," Tomas says, worried gaze scanning the horizon towards land. Carrying Flora into the thick of things isn't exactly --

-- there. He feels relief swell through him like a fishing float, bobbing hard to the surface, catching in his throat when he spots Libby's hair, first, then the rest of her. Moving fast towards him. The attacks aren't confined to the farm, then.

Libby's hurtling toward the farm as Tomas is heading away – not that she knows that yet, she just knows what she'd heard, loud and caustic, popping in the air. The one thing about the island: it's usually a fairly quiet place. So this... her breath is tight in her chest, her gaze darting, Labyrinth logic clicking into place. Find your people. Her people are usually on or around the farm.

Except the sounds get louder as she approaches the farm, the air gets darker, thicker with sound and smoke and also the sight of – “Tomas,” she exhales, seeing him and hurrying now, eyes reflexively darting down to the bundle at his chest. “Is she –” Libby asks, or starts to ask, then sees Flora's face: unblemished, albeit streaked with tears, and breathes. “Are you – fuck, what?” Her thoughts are fragments, hands reaching for his (decidedly not unblemished) face but hovering there, scared by the blood. “How? Is it – are there fucking guns?”

“Not guns.” Tomas takes a jolting half-step forward to put his face squarely into Libby's hands, bringing up one of his own to cover on the un-wounded side of his head. "Gunpowder, Emre said. They're using it like bombs." Flora complains between them but Tomas pays her no mind as she contorts like a cat and then settles for grabbing the front of Libby's shirt. “He's still back there. We need to -- you have to -- Flora, she --”

Tomas stops, sucking his teeth in frustration at the disjointed sentence fragments. “Jesus Christ. If I wanted to get shot through the head in a rice paddy I would've just gone to Vietnam like I was supposed to.” He's still caked in mud nearly up to the knees, almost to the elbow on one arm. All that work gone. All those rice shoots in their pretty green arc as he flew backwards -- but that's not important now, is it?

Blinking, Tomas hauls himself visibly back into the moment. “Flora,” he says, making himself pronounce the syllables. That makes it more concrete. “Gotta get her safe. Lily? Where's Lily? Is she okay?”

“Oh, baby,” Libby frowns, deep and parabolic when Tomas' blood sticks to one of her palms, but her eyes aren't teary and they aren't tired, they're darting, hyper-alert, waiting for the ground to shift beneath them. "Flora what–" She jolts then, suddenly, and her hands are still on Tomas but her head pulls back, gaze taking in the baby, taking stock: two ears, two eyes, wads of dark eyelashes that are currently glued together by tears. But well, whole. Thank fucking God.

Libby allows a weak huff of a laugh at the Vietnam crack but her brain’s whirring too fast to match wit right now. “She's okay,” she murmurs, nodding at the baby and trying to keep her voice even as they blink at each other for just a moment. “Right? My Flory-Flora's just fi – no, I don't know about Lily, I thought –” She looks back toward the farm now. “I was just–” Libby gestures futilely toward the water like she has to provide an alibi. “But then–” The chaos of the farm. Half-thoughts at best, too fast, spinning. “She's not there? She's not on the farm?” She could be anywhere, she –

I think he’ll come after me again, Lily had said about Jordano, and Libby's gut sinks like a stone. “Fuck,” she breathes and then presses on toward the farm. “She's gotta be – I – Lily?!”

Lily had left Tamyra the moment they broke the treeline, ignoring the fighting in favor of finding her people. Right now, that’s Libby and Tomas and Flora. Her family.

But the house is already burning when she reaches it, sweating and short of breath. The smoke stings her eyes but she still yells for Libby, cupping her hands over her mouth, scanning the smoke for any signs of movement. And by some miracle—over the chaos, she hears Libby’s voice, panicked but solid, calling for her.

Lily turns and sees her parents across the way, far from the danger of the flames. There’s a bundle on Tomas’s chest topped with a head of dark hair—Flora. She’s safe. Lily takes another rasped breath and forces her legs to move. When she does reach them, the relief of finding them — safe and standing, even if Tomas is bleeding, oh God he’s bleeding — almost makes her legs give out. She pulls them both into a crushing hug. “Mom,” she wheezes. “Dad. Hi. I’m safe. I’m okay.”

She pulls back and swallows, surveying the fight and the burning house before looking back at them. Libby as her mother and leader, Tomas as her father and the one who knew the farm’s needs best. “What do you need me to do?”

At least Libby's scattershot patter, her collage of thought-pieces, is familiar, so Tomas doesn't have to stop to wonder if he's not catching all of what she's saying. He is. This is how she talks, particularly when there's smoke in the air and blood on the ground. How many protests, how many marches? It was how he'd first heard her, a lot of the time.

But her screaming their daughter's name in a panic that she'd been caught up in the violence and danger, that's new. Tomas doesn't join in calling for Lily -- his head feels jangled and friable, like it'll sift to powder if he raises his voice in a shout -- so it's another buoy bobbing up when he sees their girl heading over to them. Concern and strain on her face as she collides, clings, as they grab onto her.

“Thank God,” Tomas says, passing his hand over Lily's hair and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Sweetheart, you know how this island works probably better than any of us. Yeah?” Tomas looks at Libby, to reaffirm what he's discerned from how his wife spoke about her labyrinth lily-child. He starts unbundling Flora, who insists on being put down yet again, ignored as Tomas pushes her against Lily. “Take your sister. You have to get her somewhere safe. I can't -- I need to --” he looks between them, apologetic, trying not to be or he won't be able to do what he needs to. He'll stay with them instead and that's not what has to be done.

“I have to go back to my farm. They're destroying it and if they finish the job, everybody's done for.” He hasn't even parsed Lily's words for them, Mom and Dad. It's new but it's old. It's their family.

“Okay,” Lily says as Tomas hands her Flora. “Okay okay okay, right.”

She’s already moving to secure the sling around her body, frantic and only focusing on the here and now. Find your people. Keep them safe.

Her head snaps up and she looks to Libby. Tomas staying behind makes sense, but — “What about you?” she asks, hating that her voice shakes. “You’re coming with me, right?”

What Libby wants to do is grow roots, anchor down and not allow in any uncertainty, not allow their paths to shift, to let the trees come in and obscure their ways to one another. But this isn't the Labyrinth. And Tomas is right. Libby nods reflexively when their eyes meet, but his words are not the ones buzzing in her head. They're Vince's. You taught her good, yeah?

She did. Lily can handle this. Tomas, on the other hand, not able to pinpoint the problem and how he can fix it – he's lining up for a spiral and understandably so. You taught her good. She needs to remember that. “No, baby,” she murmurs, ducking forward to kiss both of her daughter's soft heads, inhaling them, tucking their smell into her memory. Just in case. Just in case.

“No, I'm not coming. You go, Lily. Your dad's right–” that clinks a little in her head but there's no room for it now. “I trust you. You keep her safe, okay? Keep yourself safe. Go fast, okay? Fast, like in the Labyrinth. Stay on course, beat the trees. You know how.” Out slips the shorthand that she can, unfortunately, apply even here. Moving faster than the things that want to take you down, turn you around. And then she turns and makes eye contact with her husband, trying not to fret over his bloodied head, his fragmented I can't, I need to – no. They need to. “We're going back to the farm.”

Again, Tomas listens. To the way Libby talks to Lily, the quaver in Lily's voice on that question about if her mom is coming with her. Her mom. They're this, again, to a baby who needs them and a young woman who maybe needs them even more, in her own way.

“Just like in the Labyrinth,” Tomas echoes, easier than finding his own words right at the moment. Libby knows these, she's worn them smooth, they're Lily's as well. An easy handle to grasp and to spin and to add his own, tightening the rebozo knots around their daughters. “We love you, Lily. We know you can do it.” It's truth, and Tomas marvels, for the minute he allows himself, over how fast that can happen here. He does love her. It's not an exaggeration any more than it would be over how he loves Emre, or Madi.

His thoughts seem to be linking up better now and he skids a palm against his face, scouring blood roughly away with a blast of microscopic sleet. It leaves his skin reddened and abraded, his eye burst pink with ruptured capillaries, but that's minor. Everything except his family and his farm is minor. “We'll find a way to get word to you when it's safe. I'm sure your mother knows how, right?” All that time locked in the jungle, they would've made some signal, he's sure. Resourceful, determined, the reflection of one expression in the other's face as he looks between wife and daughter.

Lily can’t help but laugh at Libby’s words—watery and small, but comforted. Beat the trees. It had been a game to her when she was a kid, before she understood the risk, the danger. A game she’d never once lost.

But it is Tomas’s response that make tears prick her eyes. She nods and unhooks her repurposed spear from her belt, offering it to them. “They have guns. The one I ran into wasn’t loaded, but the others… be careful.” She looks to Libby and forces a grin. “I’ll be back home before sunset, with food. Just like I used to.”

For a moment she stands frozen in place, uncertain what else there is to say — but then Flora fusses against her chest, and Lily only reaches out to squeeze her parents’ shoulders.

“I love you too,” she says. “Be safe. See you soon.”

She takes a step back, another and another, then forces herself to turn and start running.

Something gets choked up in Libby’s throat when Tomas states plainly: we love you. We know you can do it. It’s true, wholeheartedly — has been true for Libby for a long time, but to hear Tomas say it too… no, this isn’t the time to get sappy. Libby swallows it down and instead reaches forward to tuck some of Lily’s hair back when the scared, brave girl manages to choke out a laugh.

And then offers them a weapon. Libby considers it for a second before gently shaking her head. “If they have guns,” she says, trying to keep her voice level even though that buzzes up her spine, a fear that aches in her teeth. “Then you need to stay safe, too, kiddo.” And then she smiles at Lily, pinned tight. Here they are, promising each other things as if they have any right too. Again. “Sounds good to me. I love you,” she reminds again as Lily begins to back away. And then their girls are off and Libby has to rip her gaze away or she’s sure she’ll follow after them.

“Be serious,” she suddenly demands from her husband, pointing at her own head to indicate his. “Do we have to take care of this right now? Don’t give me any stoic shit. Just tell me and we’ll figure it out.” She doesn’t give a fuck about a farm. She cares about him and their girls. That’s that.

#libby #tomas #tomas 003 #libby 003 #thank you ally and maggie this was so much fun!!#💖💖💖

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staticveil · 2 years ago

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@proditeur liked for a starter!

“ would you hear me out if i told you i was terrified for days? ”

#proditeur #003 › right where you left me.#light on - maggie rogers!#(also thank u)

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thebravexandthebold · 3 years ago

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@detectivebadass

CLOSED

A brand new kitchenaid pasta machine sat amidst the flour that coated the smooth marble kitchen island. Gleaming bright crimson beneath the suspended lights that ran the length of the ceiling. When she promised a genuine Italian supper, she had not considered the fact that she lacked the required equipment to deliver on her claim. Kate was used to utilizing her sizable kitchen for her own benefit, but she felt an unanticipated rush of nervousness while preparing for two. She was a competent cook who was secure in her abilities, but there was a little added pressure when she intended to impress. She aspired to extend herself beyond her typical capabilities and offer an experience that would not be soon forgotten. Thus, despite her competence in preparing a meal she'd created a thousand times before, she brought up a video on the process of making pasta to assuage her self-doubt. She fed the flattened dough through rollers, watching it become longer and thinner. She adjusted the dial to alter the roller thickness and repeated the process until the dough was long and papery. Kate could almost taste it already covered in a tomato basil sauce and sprinkled with parmesan. It was hard to believe that all it was was flour and eggs, kneaded and shaped. The final job was to send it through the cutters to make vesuvio and hang it on the rack.

‘e non dimenticare di aggiungere il peperoncino’ the woman in the video reminded. And don’t forget to add the peperoncino. "Oh right, the peperoncino" she muttered beneath her breath, standing back to admire her handiwork of the hanging scraps of dough before turning to the simmering pot. As far as first dates went, Kate didn't think she'd been quite so eager in a long while. If it was up to her, she'd rather skip past those first time jitters. She didn't like having so little control over her emotions and there was so many attached to that first date. Hope being the most giddy-making of them all. Kate had a good feeling about this Maggie, from the first conversation that was so smooth and reassuring -- and what came after.

First impressions were a big deal for the socialite. A first impression was like a canvas with an image; with time, small details, oddities and idiosyncrasies, that define a person are added. Maggie was like a breath of fresh air. She felt their instant chemistry before she'd even spoken a word. Then came her alluring tenor, playful and assured. The quirk of her lips and the bright laugh that followed. It took residence in her brain like a bright camera flash, a moment captured in high definition. It was the kind of lightning strike of a feeling that was so rare and Kate took it as a good omen. The truth that she also happened to be good in bed was just an added bonus. Where Kate may have gently but sternly escorted any other one-night stand as morning dawned over the horizon, she felt an intense urge to convince Maggie to stay. Watching her gather her clothing with a displeased downward slant to her mouth. So she left her with a lingering promise, that she'd be in contact.

She glanced up at the sound of a knocking on the door, a smile slipping into place. Hurriedly ending her video she took a quick look around her penthouse; she hadn’t needed to tidy it, she was fairly neat naturally. Still she felt marginally apprehensive about Maggie's entrance and what she would think. Wiping her fingers along the face of her apron she dashed to the door and opened it. “Hey,” she greeted, motioning her inside and not bothering to conceal the way her eyes outlined her curves with a inhale. Damn was she beautiful. "That smell your currently inhaling is Vesuvio al Ragù di Salsiccia" she informed her, the Italian rolling off her tongue effortlessly. "And yes, I do speak Italian. Are you impressed or should I say something else?" her lashes shut in a cheeky wink before motioning for Maggie to follow her to the kitchen.

“I took out a White, okay with you?” she asked over her shoulder, referring to the bottle of wine perched on the island's edge. "You have to tell me how you like it, I drank a little while I was waiting for you to arrive. Not too much though, I was reasonable. But it's always nice to cook with a glass of wine"

#( &. — INTERACTIONS )#( &. — MAGGIE+KATE 003 )

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