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norabrice1701 · 4 years ago

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An Offer Received - Part III.2

A Jaguar Villain Tom Hiddleston Character (Thomas Conrad) fanfic

Pairing: Thomas Conrad x Fem!reader

Summary: Part III.1 & III.2 - You spring Mr. Conrad’s trap and he has you. You’re his.

Rating: Part III.1 & III.2 - Explicit sexual content NSFW smut (please be ye warned and do not proceed if not your cuppa), controlling behavior, threats of violence, f-bombs, scalpel violence, Dark!Conrad

Previously: Part III.1 - 5 Months

A/N: Here we go, and I’m gonna go hide now (promise more updates are coming, but there will be another life delay).

GIF credit to the original poster via the Tumblr search! (just, you know, swap the suit for his bespoke tuxedo)

Part III.2 - 5 Months

The cabin door opened, ushering in the noise of the rotor, and Conrad slipped out with fluid grace. He extended his hand and you drew a deep, steadying breath, taking it to step out into the cold night.

The mansion looked even bigger now that you stood before it. You couldn’t say where you were outside the city, but this had to be quite the neighborhood for this property to have its own helipad.

Conrad tucked your arm through his, resting his other hand atop it as he steered you up the wide, sweeping stone staircase. Of course, the doorman took Conrad’s name without question and divested you of your velvet coat just as quick. Even though this was a glorified house party, the men all wore crisp, tailored tuxedos, and women dripped in evening finery and priceless jewels.

A glass of champagne materialized in your hand as Conrad expertly navigated the sea and flow of people, exchanging greetings in passing, his face alight with the smile that you recognized from his press releases. The smile perfected to charm and disarm. But you knew the truth…the terrifying, bewildering truth that…

Dammit, why couldn’t he have just been a handsome controlling bastard, and not a handsome controlling bastard bent on world domination? Then, maybe you could let yourself surrender to every natural instinct within you that flared to life in the helicopter. The instincts that demanded you have him - preferably above you, preferably deep in you.

Still on his arm, Conrad’s appeal was near impossible to ignore. But the weight of surrounding, curious stares helped. You wore a cordial smile, glancing among the sea of unfamiliar faces, making introductions and sipping your champagne as you approached the night’s host.

Thaddeus Ross stood with a regal bearing, face warm with his own two-faced, politician’s smile. “Good evening, Thomas,” he reached for Conrad’s hand in a solid shake, “glad you could attend.”

“Thank you, Mr. Secretary.” Conrad’s smile filled to full megawatt. “I’m glad to see you look fighting fit. The gossip mill had painted a rather bleak tale of your shoulder surgery.”

“Yes. The recovery was more arduous than anticipated, but I’m cleared to resume squash after the start of the new year.”

Conrad nodded, obviously pleased. “Splendid. Then, we shall have to arrange a court time.” He turned his disarming smile on you. “The Secretary here has one of the meanest backhands I’ve ever encountered.”

Ross scoffed. “Always the charmer, Thomas. It’ll get you in trouble one day. Now, who is this lovely woman at your side?”

Introductions passed in a flurry. Ross’ face pinched with vague recognition on your name. “You know, I recall your name…direct from Thomas’ office, correct? His administrative assistant?”

The corners of your moth pinched with irritation. “Not entirely, sir. I’m involved with the business operations of the company –“

“You know, Thomas,” Ross barreled ahead, not paying you any mind, “I’ve just received a case of 25-yr Pappy Van Winkle. What’s say we crack it open?”

“Splendid idea, sir.” Conrad turned towards you, swooping in to peek your cheek. “I shan’t be long, darling.” He released your arm and stepped away, his conversation with Ross fading into the din of the party.

Your cheeks flushed, mouth pinched tight, wanting only to yell after him.

You weren’t just some eye-candy secretary on Conrad’s arm to be so easily tossed aside. He had chosen you for the role. He had given you nearly every key in the company. And it wasn’t because you were a brainless, easy fuck.

You fumed, taking a sip of champagne.

“You’ll have to forgive Mr. Ross,” a regal alto voice said over your shoulder. You turned to see a stunning woman with raven hair in a bold, red gown that screamed money and taste. “He still thinks a woman’s place is bent over a stove, a Xerox machine, or his cock.”

You couldn’t stop a soft, unsure laugh as you nodded slowly. “He does give that impression.”

The woman eyed you with a shrewd, amused edge as she held out her hand. “Amelia Young.”

You returned her handshake, offering your name in return. As you drew your hand back, you couldn’t help but notice a group of women, three or four strong, nodding in your direction and trying, but failing, to not stare so directly.

Amelia laughed slow at your side. “Just ignore them.” She looped her arm through yours, steering you away. “They’re just jealous, watching you waltz in on Tom’s arm. Wearing his diamonds.” She sighed almost wistfully. “He’s always had such impeccable taste.”

Your eyebrows climbed to your hairline. You’d never known anyone to call him Thomas before tonight, let alone Tom. You shook your head, blinking in disbelief. “That’s…rather forward of you.”

“Ex-lovers have every right.”

“Well, that’s not…not what he and I are.”

“Well, not ‘ex’ certainly -”

“I mean lovers.” You turned to Amelia with a hard gaze, fed up with the assumptions. “We’re not lovers.”

She hummed low, the sound full of secrets you couldn’t begin to unravel. “He won’t let you take off those diamonds until he’s had you six ways to Sunday. You’re not stupid, so I’m sure you know he’s a very strategic man.” Her matching red lips curled around the rim of her champagne glass as she nodded across the room.

You followed her gaze, easily spotting Conrad. He stood among a group of five men with that wide, boyish smile on his face as the group laughed around him. His eyes found yours effortlessly, his smile shifting for the briefest of seconds to something sharp, dangerous - then it flashed back to light playfulness. The seamless transition raced a shiver down your spine.

Those poor fools. If only they knew they had a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

And no, not a wolf. A fucking crocodile.

Amelia sighed lightly. “May I also caution another word of wisdom?” She didn’t wait for your response. “You needn’t bother trying to defend what you do at LOKI. The minute Tom dropped Galinda for his secretary, it became the hottest gossip of the scene –“

“I am not his secretary.”

“You won’t convince anyone here differently. Especially not when Secretary Ross perpetuates it for all to see.”

“What about you?” You leveled her with a hard look. “You’re obviously intelligent, successful. Mr. Conrad doesn’t cheat himself on brains or beauty.”

Amelia chuckled, low and rich. “How telling that you still call him ‘Mr. Conrad’. But you’re not wrong – I’m an equity partner at a firm in the city. Cross, Young and Pine – perhaps you’ve heard of it?”

Of course, you’d heard of it. Cross, Young and Pine was the largest law firm in the city.

“That’s why I just can’t riddle it out,” Amelia continued, “Tom’s always set his sights on a partner suitable for his position, capable of presenting just the image he wants. Take Galinda, for example – award-winning and gorgeous. What do you possibly have to compete with that?” She glanced around the room. “That’s the exact question on everyone’s mind right now. What did you do to be worthy of those diamonds?

“I did my job. I’m still doing my job. If helping chart record-setting revenue each quarter, expanding the world’s already largest tech giant, further cementing Mr. Conrad’s successful legacy isn’t enough for you – and this room – then…perhaps something in this room needs to change.”

Oh, god. Were those truly your words? Or…his?

Your gaze narrowed ever so slightly, wondering. Surely…surely Amelia wasn’t also recruited? Surely, he knew better than to fold in lovers. Lovers presented impossible to control emotional risk. Far better to stick to the impersonal rationale of business logic as a recruitment basis, in your mind.

Your stomach churned on the thought. God, just one conversation in a helicopter and you were already starting to see…. But that’s when you wondered – was Amelia a deliberate plant? You knew Conrad planned his moves five steps ahead – had he told Amelia to orchestrate this conversation to sway you into accepting his recruitment?

Something in Amelia’s upturned mouth and upset gaze told you different, though. No, it looked more like she was just a jealous ex, out to needle the next in line. “You’re right, something does need to change,” she shook her head, the movement disparaging, “I’ll have to have a word with Secretary Ross about allowing esteemed guests to bring their office trash to such a function.”

“Careful, Amelia,” you snapped, “that didn’t used to mean me. Someday, that might just include you, too.”

You turned from her, weaving through the crowd, not wanting to hear another word. No one seemed to pay any mind to your departure and Amelia didn’t follow you. You spied doors leading to an expansive terrace, stepping out into the night to escape the cheery suffocation.

The winter wind bit at your skin, rippling shivers down your spine, but you paid it little mind. Amelia’s words echoed in your mind, incensing you further. You were sick of it – all the assumptions, all the gossip. You were worth far more than what you had under your dress, and if that entire room thought you only got to where you were because you let him fuck you….

How you wanted to set the record straight. How you wanted to prove them all wrong.

Intransigent misogynists.

Of course, you partly blamed Conrad, too. He hadn’t bothered to speak in your favor when Ross steamrolled you earlier. In fact, he’d been quick to jump on the Secretary’s suggestion to adjourn for bourbon. You had quite a fondness for bourbon and would have enjoyed it, had you been seen as more than just the office piece of ass.

Your hands clenched against the freezing stone railing as your lips curled. You wanted to scream out into the night, to let it all go, to let loose the immense frustration of the last six hours.

Heavy warmth fell around your shoulders, bringing with it the unmistakable scent of Conrad’s cologne. You hung your head, instinct compelling you to further burrow into the warmth, drown yourself in something so enticing.

His voice was soft in your ear. “Do you really prefer the winter’s chill to the party inside?”

“Are you kidding?” You took a deep breath. “It’s warmer out here than that crowd inside.”

He huffed an amused breath. “An astute observation.”

“Is Amelia one your recruits?” You turned to him, hoping to discern the truth. His face, half-lift from the party inside and half-shadowed from the dark night, nearly took your breath away. The soft glow smoothed the hard angles and lines of his face, his azure eyes stunning in their clarity.

Why did he have to be so painfully handsome?

He moistened his lips against the winter breeze, his eyes fixed to yours. “No. She has her own ideologies that are ill-suited to my purpose. Our liaison ran its course but is best left in a past that does not concern you.”

“Doesn’t concern me?” You scoffed. “You’re asking me to join your grand scheme; you’ve placed god knows how many thousands of dollars of diamonds around my neck – which I can read through the lines, means you expect me to sleep with you tonight – and if you want any of that, then you better fucking start being more forthcoming.”

Pride flashed in his eyes for the briefest second before it vanished, replaced by something stern, commanding, displeased. “While I admire your boldness, you would do better to mind your reckless behavior.” He stepped closer, and you wanted to take an instinctive step back. “Loose lips sink ships, as the saying goes. You know all that you need to know, and nothing more. Pressing for more information will only serve to annoy, and I’d much prefer more pleasurable courses of action in your company – as you so crudely alluded to.”

Despite the winter’s chill, you felt heat rise in your cheeks, forcing a hard swallow. “Nearly everyone assumes I fucked you to get this job.”

“And how gloriously wrong they all are.” His lips curled with a wicked edge. “Gives you the advantage.”

“Is that what you call it? The endless frustration of being regraded as little better than a ladder climber who’s not above fucking her way to the top?”

“I told you the world needed to change.”

The intensity of his gaze lit your insides on fire. God, how you wanted to stay the focus of that sharp, precise intensity. How you wanted to feel it against your lips, your skin. How would wanted that voice, low, sinful, filthy in your ear.

You tore your gaze from his, looking out over the dark lawn at the idle helicopter, as you drew a deep breath. You didn’t even realize how heavy your breathing had become in his close proximity.

The weight of his arm wrapped around your back, tucking you against his side. “Come along, darling,” he purred softly, “we’ve accomplished all that we can here.”

He lead you down the terrace stairs, out to the main lawn. All too late, you realized that you didn’t have your velvet coat, but he dismissed it, instead ushering you towards the waiting helicopter.

Ensconced in the cabin, still draped in his jacket, your frustration did little to ebb. Conrad’s suave, tempting, infuriating presence did nothing to help as the helicopter lifted off and sped across the sky.

He sat next to you, calm-as-you-please, sipping from a gold-rimmed teacup and saucer. Somehow, a tea service had materialized in the cabin between your arrival and departure from Secretary Ross’ house – you shouldn’t be surprised. Especially now as he sat, looking unfairly dignified in just his crisp dress shirt and black braces, his bow tie still perfect at this throat.

At length, you nodded at the tea service. “Let me guess. Another of your recruits?”

“If you’re going to insist on guessing who is and isn’t recruited to my cause, then keep such musings to yourself. Not everyone who works for me knows the true endgame.” He glanced over with a slight curl to his lips. “And if you’re so determined to either remain silent or pick a fight for the duration of our journey, we can dispense with the rest of foreplay, and I’ll just have you right here.”

Breath punched out of your lungs, arousal slamming full throttle through you. He had no right to make it sound so easy, so definitive. Unconsciously, your legs twitched together as heat flushed your cheeks.

Of course, his perceptive gaze missed none of your reaction. He tipped his teacup back, lazily finishing the contents before setting it back on the tea tray. With the same grace as earlier, he slid from his chair, taking a knee in front of you.

You turned your head away, fighting to keep a clear head. That’s what you wanted, right? You didn’t want to fall into his arms, into his bed – you couldn’t possibly surrender to his control. To his crazed plan for world domination that you knew nothing about.

Right?

His breath rumbled low, so close to your skin. “I do hate seeing you so frustrated, darling.”

“You’re goddamned right I’m frustrated,” you grumbled, “but you have no one to blame but yourself.”

Sure, it was risky mouthing off to him. But could you let yourself cross that line? The minute you fell into his bed was the minute everyone became right about you – sleeping with the boss, and for what?

Because you want, a traitorous voice whispered. Oh, how you wanted.

Soft lips fell to your turned cheek, infusing you with a new wave of his cologne mixed with evening-worn exertion. “No matter what you tell yourself in that pretty head of yours, the truth of your desire is undeniable.” The tip of his nose dragged along the skin of your jaw. “The way your breath hitches when I draw near. I suspect my cologne pleases you.” A kiss pressed to the underside of your jaw, followed by another, and your head tilted instinctively back. “The way your eyes darken with hunger the longer you gaze upon me. Mirrors my own, I would imagine.” His strong hand fell to your knee and you jolted under the delicate touch as he continued to nuzzle the skin of your jaw. “You’re positively trembling, love. Why torture yourself so?”

You breathed shakily. “Everyone already thinks I’m a power-hungry whore, and falling into bed with you does nothing to prove them wrong.” You gasped as his steady fingers teased up the inside of your thigh, sliding against soft fabric. “From earlier, I know enough now that I’m surely a liability to you – you can’t afford to not control me – just as you’ve fucking done since we first met….” You forced a hard swallow against a nibble over your racing pulse. “And despite knowing all of that – it’s fucking maddening that I still want you to fuck me until I can’t see straight.”

His hot breath rushed against your skin in a noise of wild satisfaction. Of victory. His fingers tightened on your thigh in a possessive, dominating hold.

He had you. And you both knew it. Worse yet, you wanted it. Ached for it.

Your heart beat wildly in your chest, anticipating his next move. Waiting for his devouring kiss, hovering on the edge of his touch on your thigh that refused to seek out the ache between your legs. Your breath came in shallow draws, every nerve-ending screaming for more, for anything, for everything.

“Oh, my darling.” His voice rumbled, low and unbearably smug, as the tip of his nose nuzzled your cheek. “I will have you be mine - all mine.” His nose pressed along yours, and your head tilted, driven on pure instinct. Enticing lips hovered just above yours, breathing the same electric air.

The helicopter jolted with a gentle settling motion, punching through the cloud of arousal. You turned to the window with wide, stunned eyes, startled to see the helipad and city lights surrounding you. How had the ride gone by so fast?

Conrad didn’t give you time to think. He pulled you from the helicopter, keeping you close at his side with the surprising strength concealed in his lithe form. The elevator doors hadn’t even closed before your back was against the mirrored wall and he engulfed you. Still, his kiss eluded you - just a teasing, out of reach promise, as he let the full length of his body press to yours, against the stiff outline of your corset, torquing your desire higher.

His teeth closed over your earlobe and you whimpered, unable to hold back the needy sound. A feral gasp tore from his throat, rushing more heat through you. The thought of this man coming undone by you, because of you exhilarated you.

The elevator chime sounded over the blood pounding in your ears, and you found yourself pressed against him as the doors opened to reveal the lobby exclusive to his apartment. He folded you against him, your back pressed tight to the furnace of his chest. The brush of his hard, straining arousal against your backside derailed your sensible thought.

“I wasn’t untruthful earlier - you’ve looked gorgeous all evening.” His words rumbled against your skin, deep and smooth as he navigated you through his low-lit apartment. “This dress reveals your best assets, yet keeps all your secrets.”

You sighed, the reality of your situation sinking in your stomach as his fingers toyed along the side-zipper of your dress. Turning your head, you nuzzled against as much skin as you could reach, breathing him in. “My secrets are yours tonight.”

He growled his approval, tugging on the zipper. “Tonight, tomorrow - whenever I desire.”

Yes, yes, your body cried out, but you choked the words off, mouthing at his skin. You couldn’t fully give him that satisfaction. His fingers slipped inside, skimming over the ridges of your corset, and his arousal twitched in approval. The sensation pulled an instinctive thrust of your hips, chasing the feel of him against you.

His chuckle dripped with molten desire. “We’ll get to that, darling. You’re…so much more responsive than I anticipated.”

Your hands reached back behind you, desperate for purchase. To clench in the fine fabric of his dress shirt, to tear at the catch of his trousers, to rip the braces from his shoulders. But the journey of his hand, up and over a breast, kneading the skin that mounded at the corset’s top made you further melt into him. He held you firm at his mercy, trailing that hand down your front, teasing down until he brushed the smooth silk of your underwear. God, there would be no hiding from him now.

His clever fingers pried the delicate fabric aside, groaning deep and feral. You didn’t know if he expected you to be shaved or not, but his fingers sweeping against bare skin obviously pleased him. Another whimper tore from your throat as his fingers slipped through your folds, easily aided by what he found.

He exhaled hard, his body shaking with the last vestiges of control. “You’re fucking soaked for me, love…how callous of me to make you wait all evening for something you so obviously want.” He thrust his hips forward as his fingers set to work in earnest, teasing both inside and out.

You threw your head back to his shoulder, surrendering to his touch, to every sensation he flooded through your body. Your lips moved against his skin, drunk on his cologne, drunk on him. “Please, sir…please….”

“Soon. So very soon.” His fingers fell away, abandoning the smooth fabric of your undergarments and returning to the zipper. He stepped back to further work the dress from your body until the fine fabric puddled at your feet. “Now, to the bed,” his voice conveyed full, dark authority, “and for each step, you will abandon another article, leaving the diamonds for last.”

A nervous swallow worked down your throat as you noticed you now stood in his bedroom. A strip-tease? You’d never done that before…would - what would he consider sexy? A teasing show? Or simply pulling things off?

His hand lightly smacked against the swell of your backside, startling you back. “Stop overthinking it. I want you naked in my bed, and I want you to unravel for me. Now…may I suggest shoes first?”

Without further protest, you looked down to your feet, stepping out of one heel, than the other. Certainly, it wouldn’t be sexy to unevenly hobble across the floor. You took a step forward, approaching the luxurious bed as you settled a hand to the hooks of the corset. The constricting fabric eased its hold and your breasts fell free as you dared to glance over your shoulder at him.

Thought abandoned you at the sight. His dress shirt now hung half unbuttoned from his strong shoulders, a mouthwatering swath of finely haired skin on display. With the fallen braces and the catch of his trousers undone, they slumped low on his hips, teasing the promise of such sweet fulfillment.

You turned back for the bed, continuing to work the hooks of your corset. It fell to the floor with a solid thump and you took another step towards the bed. You could just hear the sounds of rustling, shifting cloth behind you but you didn’t look back. Raising your hands, stretching out the line of your back, you reached up for the pins in your hair.

A solid weight crashed into you, knocking the breath from your lungs. Strong fingers tore at the silk of your underwear, the delicate fabric ripping audibly as you fell forward onto the bed under the hot, solid weight of what you now realized was him. All of naked him.

You had to see him. Twisting against him, you struggled to roll onto your back but he held you fast against the soft bed covers. God, you could feel it - the weight of his heavy cock against your thigh, and you couldn’t help but grind back into him, desperate to just feel him. His lips trailed along the back of your neck, nipping along the line of your shoulders. You’d never thought you were much of one for being dominated…but everything within you burned at his prowess.

A low chuckle rumbled his chest against your back. “Quite the compliment, darling, and we’ve barely begun.”

Good god, had you actually said that aloud?

He answered with another chuckle, clearly reading the shocked realization on your face. “You needn’t hide from me. Not any more, and certainly not now.” Warm, steady fingers fell to the outside of your leg, guiding and molding, contorting your back such that your legs lay parted for him, hips angled while your chest still rested against the mattress. “Let me hear you, love. Every feeling I give you.”

Your body jolted as his fingers brushed feather-light along your dripping need. There was no need to pretend - no brain power left to censor your reactions to his touch. Nimble and delicate, his fingers settled into a rhythm - those pianist’s fingers playing you masterfully. A sudden gust of hot breath was your only warning before the flat of his tongue licked a maddening stripe that nearly catapulted you into orbit.

Your heart was surely going to explode, twisting in his hold, surrendering everything your body had to him. His movements rolled you over onto you back, exposing yourself fully to him as he devoured you with his fingers curled deep and his tongue swirling the most exquisite patterns. Words fell from your lips, thought drowned by the onslaught of his relentless pursuit. “Oh, god…please, sir! Fuck…oh, fuck….”

A dragging pinch of his teeth broke the dam. White hot release exploded within you, your legs tightening around him as you rode the shockwaves. His mouth closed over you, chuckling in wicked satisfaction, as his fingers continued their strokes. You gasped as lingering pleasure turned to overstimulated discomfort.

You squirmed under his continuing ministrations, trying to find some relief. But he kept pace with you, mouthing an easy, lazy design as his fingers moved. “Sir…,” you gasped, hands clenching in the sheets at the continued discomfort, “sir, please…it’s - it’s too much, too soon.”

He lifted his gaze, breaking away for the briefest moment of respite. “Is that anyway to say thank you? You can take it, love…and when you’re ready to break, I’ll give you what we both want you to have.” His hips rolled against your thigh, tearing a moan from you.

His mouth descended with a vengeance. Only now did you realize how gentle he was after your first release, but now - he was a man possessed. You barely recognized the sounds passing your lips as he worked you ever steadily higher. Your wayward hand landed in his hair, gripping the natural waves until a vice-like grip wrenched it free, forcing it down to the mattress. A burning knot of pleasure grew at the base of your spine, so close to the edge, teetering just there.

His fingers and mouth withdrew, leaving you aching and bereft. A trembling gasp tore from your throat, forcing your eyes open to watch him slither up your body. His lips, tangy and wet, found yours as you folded around him. You rolled your hips, cradling his between your spread thighs as he braced on a forearm. Thick, blunt pressure rested where you wanted it most, hooking your leg around his backside to push him forward.

He groaned low in his throat, teeth tugging your bottom lip. “Hmmm, what do we say, love?”

You knew what he wanted to hear. “Please, sir…,” you couldn’t bring yourself to care, “please fuck me, sir.”

He sighed in pleased satisfaction as he slammed his hips forward. A cry tore from you as you felt your body nearly split in two from the intrusion. You didn’t want to admit how long it had been since your last lover, and the sudden invasion took a moment of adjustment. But he spared you no moment to breathe, picking up where his fingers and tongue left off. It shouldn’t feel so good - the ebbing discomfort, the escalating pleasure - but you’d never felt anything more perfect.

“Want you to feel this for days,” he punctuated his words with sharp, precise thrusts, “want you to remember who made you feel this way. Who made you cry out at the feel of his cock inside you.”

Each filthy word in that sinful voice torqued you higher. You gripped his shoulders tight, doing your best to meet him, feeling him strike that elusive place deep within you each and every time.

“Want you to come for me now,” he gasped, rough and serrated, “want to feel you so fucking tight on my cock. Come now, my darling.”

Your body helplessly obeyed, convulsing around him, dragging him down to his own euphoric release.

Sweat beaded along your forehead as you struggled to breathe. Your hand trembled as you trailed down his spine, swiping through the moisture that spotted the skin. It was easy, so easy to sink into the mattress under his weight, boneless and drifting.

You licked your lips, debating the merit of your next words. But what would they really cost you? You pressed a kiss to his cheek, whispering softly, just for him. “Thank you, sir.”

He turned, his eyes all-consuming and impossibly dark in the close proximity. “If you think we’re done here, then you’re sorely mistaken.”

When he finally relented and you both slumped against the mattress, spent from your fourth release and his second inside you - you’d never known a more peaceful, mindless sleep.

Until…his lilting voice drifted in your, luring you back to consciousness.

“Darling…come on now, darling.”

Slowly, you stirred against the sheets, drawing a deep breath. Everything in you hummed with sleepy, boneless contentment. Even the twinge in your muscles was pleasant.

You opened you eyes, stretching against the soft pillow, arching against the warmth of him. Rolling over, the long line of him stretched against you and distant city light played off his pale skin. He was the picture of comfortable perfection, with his head propped on a hand as he gazed down at you. It should probably unnerve you, if he was watching you sleep.

He leaned down, brushing his lips to your forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Mmmm, absolutely sated.”

He purred, pressing another kiss to your skin. “Exactly what I wanted to hear.”

Darkness still filled the room and you couldn’t help but wonder the time. Why had he woken you up exactly? You tilted your head, pressing your lips to the nearest available skin. “Did you want something?

His mouth curled with a dark, wicked edge as he gathered you closer to him. “You’re mine now. Here, in my bed – your body. In my office – your mind. And there’s so much that lies ahead…so much yet that we haven’t even begun to explore…” His fingers trailed over your flank, pulling an involuntary shiver from you. His face softened with approval. “So responsive, so good for me….”

Your heart accelerated at the possessive tone of his voice. None of it sat well with you, but you’d made your bed. Literally. What else could you do but lay in it? Especially since you wanted to keep on living.

His forehead rested against yours, breath hot against your lips. “So good for me,” he repeated, brushing your lips, “say it for me, love.”

You sighed, moistening your lips. “So good for you.” The words sunk like lead in your stomach. It felt like the point of no return. The ultimate surrender.

The tug of his smile pulled against your lips as he placed a lingering kiss. He pulled back with a sigh. “Rest now, darling. May I bring you anything?”

The simple offer tugged a smile to your face, a fluttery feeling erupting in your stomach. “No, thank you…that’s kind of you to offer.”

Nothing on his smile changed as he pulled back and you rolled over on your side, settling back against the pillow. The sheet shifted as he moved, the bed dipping as he pulled away to sit up. You didn’t think anything of it, letting yourself drift off in the haze of sweet exhaustion. He shifted again, the bed moving down by your feet, warm fingers caressing your ankle.

Sharp, searing pain exploded on the heel of your left foot. A cry ripped from your throat as the pain flooded you, jerking you back to reality. The solid weight of his body descended on your leg, firmly holding your foot in place as another white-hot line of pain erupted on the bottom of your foot.

“Stop! Stop!” You feebly clawed at him, crying out in another wave of agony. If he bothered to respond, you couldn’t hear it over the pounding of blood in your ears and your own anguished cries.

At last, the sharp pains receded, leaving a heavy, aching throb in its place. Tears streaked your face as you lay, gasping against the sheets. He shifted off your leg and you caught the gleam of a sharp metal scalpel as he withdrew to the edge of the bed.

“What…what did you do to me?” Hands shaking with adrenaline, you tried to push yourself up.

His fingers wrapped around your arm in a supportive gesture, his face the picture of serene calm. As if he hadn’t just mutilated the bottom of your foot. “You’re marked as mine now. Like so many others.”

Your eyes widened, horrified. “I don’t…don’t understand.”

“See for yourself.”

You tore your gaze from his, down to your foot bleeding over the bed linens. If he cared about the mess made of his bed, he didn’t show it. Sniffling back more tears, wincing at the tender pain, you bent your leg, angling to see.

The heel of your foot bled freely from neat lines carved into your skin. Lines designed to scar. Lines designed to identify. Your crimson blood stood in stark contrast to the color of your skin, and you could clearly make out the carved symbol.

The roman numeral for 6. You gulped as your head dropped to your chest.

How many great empires did he say the world had known?

He hummed with pride, the sound rumbling his lips when they pressed against your bare shoulder. “Do you recognize it?”

A tear rolled down your cheek. “The number six. You…earlier you said the world has only known five truly great empires, so far.”

“Your intelligence never disappoints me.” He dropped another kiss to your shoulder, edging forward to press your back to his firm chest. “The marking of foot soldiers is as old as civilization itself. Why, the commanders of the Roman Legions could always tell when their men betrayed them to the enemy by the casks of severed feet, each one emblazoned with the mark of the foot soldier.”

The thought made you shudder, and he held you tighter, a play at a comforting, lover’s embrace. You shook your head, forcing a swallow. “You don’t need to continue. I understand your point.”

An effective insurance policy. A means to identify you as a player in his quest to create the sixth greatest empire. A means to ensure your silence or identify you as a traitor.

“I had every expectation.” His lips pressed to the side of your neck. “Now, let’s get you cleaned and bandaged - infection just won’t do. After that, you’re welcome to stay until late morning, or your car’s waiting for you in the parking garage, stall 45B. Your choice.”

Up Next: Part IV - 5 Minutes

#tom hiddleston #villain #the art of villainy #hiddlesedit #good to be bad #world domination #loki #avengers reference #fanfic #an offer received #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #not rpf #wannabe writer

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darkestwolfx · 5 years ago

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Long Haul - Re-Review #48

Okay, I think I managed to reply to most people yesterday, but I had over a hundred odd notifications to scroll through - so if I missed your comment, I’m really sorry! So, moving on to today’s review.

It’s all nice and steady, business as usual, and there’s even some lovely peaceful music until we get to the ‘duh-dun’ part and in comes trouble.

“All ships divert from bay 2:1 and await further instructions.”

“Bravo Two Four, I gave an order to divert.”

“Sorry control, missed that.”

Okay, it wasn’t their fault, as such, there’s very little you can do about radio interference, but these things will happen and cause chaos. At least it wasn’t deliberate for once!

“We hit something! How bad is it?”

“We’re going into meltdown!”

That bad is your answer, mate.

“Space Hub One, come in. This is International Rescue. Do you need assistance?”

“This is Controller Conrad. Our core is ruptured, the coolant unit is leaking, and we’re going into meltdown. Apart from that, everything is fine.”

Yes, that makes everything sound just peachy! I wouldn’t cool that everything is fine. Apart from what? Everything is dying on you basically. Meltdown is pretty... finite?

“Do you have an EVAC in progress?”

“Yes, I’m riding the power controls to buy time until everyone is out. But I’m only delaying the meltdown. I can’t stop it.”

“Alan, you reading this? You need to get up there.”

“FAB John, I’m on my way.”

Hooray for Thunderbird Three! Although, did Alan leave with any plan other than to get Conrad who was going to evacuate anyway? It seems like John was predicting a rescue would be needed here, which isn’t a bad thing, I just wasn’t entirely clear on the reasoning. On the one hand, you’ve got predicting something before it happens which is great; but on the other, you’ve got acting too soon, which then dragged Thunderbird Two up, when maybe Virgil could have just gone with Alan? I know it’s all for the sake of story, so I’m not going to dwell here for long.

“Conrad, time to get out of there.”

“Okay, I’m heading out.”

Apparently, according to the writers with their hands of God, you are not!

“Alan, Conrad was still on board when the comms went down. He was about to evac, but I don’t know if he made it.”

“If he’s there, I’ll find him. I got him! But he’s not moving, and life signs are very weak. One wrong more and the whole thing will break apart.”

Just to my penny’s worth in here, very cheery start to the episode! No, really, it was nice to see an episode which did just get straight down to business and save the humour for later, really heightened the tension. I do love episodes where we just get to dive right into the deep, there’s something rewarding in them me thinks.

“This is the duty log of Space Controller Conrad, Space Hub One. I’m running out of air and time. I don’t know if anyone will hear this... I hope everyone else made it out. This is all my fault, I should have spotted that cruiser. I’m sorry.”

I really liked this guest character! They gave us so much backstory for him too and the music! I just loved it all. I will be honest, teared a bit at that speech. It’s like he was leaving a message on the log, expecting it to be his last, expecting to die there, and still thinking of others regardless.

“Brains, how do I get into this thing?”

The music behind this conversation was also awesome!

“You can’t cut through. That chute is designed to withstand meteor hits and collisions with space debris. And I’ve got worst news.”

“Of course you do.”

“Oxygen levels have reached critical. Conrad is running out of air.”

Skipping a bit here and keeping the focus on these two, all alone in space - I really felt for Alan and Conrad here. They were so close an yet so far.

“Alan, I don’t want anyone else to be put in danger because of me.”

“Hey, we’re International Rescue. It’s what we do! And I’m gonna stay right here until we open the door.”

Alan really has grown. If this mission had been put on him in Series 1, I don’t think he would have been able to cope, what with his focus then on being able to go on missions, and being allowed to spread his wings. Series 2 for Alan is really an example of how he begins to balance his love and excitement for what he does, with a practical working attitude like his brothers. and actually, he is really good at in this episode.

“So, Conrad, how do you become a Space Controller?”

“You’re making conversation to try and take my mind of the meltdown, aren’t you?”

“Nooooo....”

He so is!

“It’s okay, I haven’t got anything better to do. I always wanted to see the world. I mean, really see it.”

Uh, perfect description of how John feels?

“Now all I want is to see my home again.”

“And where is that?”

“Slough. My family still live there. And they’re all heroes. My brother’s a firefighter, the other’s a paramedic, and my sister’s a police officer. Do you have any idea how much pressure that is?”

Uh, perfect description of Alan? Of course he knows what that feels like.

“I can try to imagine.”

“I just wanted to make them proud of me. I mean, space! That’s a pretty big deal right? And I blew it. I didn’t react fast enough.”

“It was an emergency situation. You responded as fast as you could and you got everyone out safely.”

“Everyone but me.”

One of the most emotional discussions in TAG? i think so. And it didn’t matter that it was involving a guest character, because they said everything which needed to be said. The Tracy boys may be our heroes, and they may battle with much higher levels to live up to, but there are families out there who have the same struggles. I really think this will have resonated with people out there. It’s hard to not resent elder siblings when you feel like they are constantly above you and we sort of saw Alan going through that in Series 1. Conrad was a good person for him to meet - this scene was thought-provoking, powerful, and reflective. Everything it should have been.

Now back to the whole Tracy Island interlude.

Personally, I love the silent moments we had which begun this scene. Virgil and Scott silently walking into the room, and the looks whilst they wait to find out whether they’re too late... I really felt that. Sometimes we don’t need words in a scene to convey emotions. I mean, did you see the way Alan’s shoulders dropped when he thought there wasn’t going to be an answer, and the way the boys looked at Brains? Said it all.

“Then we need a plan fast. The temperature is still rising and we’re running out of time before the whole thing blows!”

“Ok, Brains, give us a run down of our options.”

“I admire your optimism in thinking we have more than one.”

Brains, please try not to pessimistic for one episode? It’s hard, I know, and it’s ironic of me to ask him that, because I am also a pessimist so would probably be doing the exact same! Ironic, I know, but really, that got me.

“Without a working coolant unit, the power core will keep overheating until meltdown. But it’s too damaged for repairs. we need to replace it.”

“Ok, where do we get a replacement?”

“Right here. We use the same cooling system for the power system on Tracy Island. And I have a back-up.”

Of course he does, this is Brains we’re talking about! Always ready, like a Scout right? I wasn’t a Scout, so I might be wrong on that one.

“Great! Problem solved.”

I love how Scott was turning to leave, striding away all purposefully to go and get everything!

“It’s not that simple. That coolant unit is massive. The one at the space hub was transported bit by bit. It took weeks.”

“And we don’t have weeks. Is there a vehicle that could take it in one piece?”

“Thunderbird Three, but-”

And we all know what’s coming next!

“But disconnecting it from the hub means no life support for Conrad.”

Thank you, Scott.

“You said we had one option?”

Yes. Yes he did. Shall we find out what it was?

“Thunderbird Two could carry it.”

“Uh.. I think you’re forgetting the whole ‘in space’ part of the mission. Thunderbird Two is not a space ship.”

Listen to Scott, ever the obvious! No, really I love how ‘eldest brother’ he acted in this episode.

“I think it could break free of Earth’s gravity and make it to the space hub.”

“You think? We need to be sure.”

See, big brother! I really love it when he acts like that.

“I don’t know about this, Virgil, what do you think?”

“Well, Scott, I think Thunderbird two is going into space!”

Space, Space, Space! I feel like it’s a new catch phrase! Let’s see how many times I can fit the word into this next section of the Review.

“Hey Brains, when you’re done here, can you make Thunderbird Four into a spaceship too?”

*Watch as Brains’ face literally lights up, and then Scott proceeds to crush his dreams. Payback for Gordon and the Panda?*

“Uh, let’s not get carried away here guys! Besides we need Thunderbird Four standing by as a submarine!”

“FAB. But could you blame a guy for asking?”

“Right!”

Look at those faces! Scott is sick of it already.

New version of the countdown? Love it.

“Thunderbird Two is go-ing into space! Woo-hoo! Going into space! Going into space! Going into space! Going into space!”

Virgil has been to space before, this is nothing new for him... except it’s in Thunderbird Two and that must be like his absolute dream! It’s one thing to go in Thunderbird Three with Alan as a co-pilot, it’s another thing entirely to take your own ship up, and on a maiden voyage of sorts. I love the excitement in this scene - and I’m a little surprised Scott didn’t admonish the whooping over the radio!

“Ok, but keep monitoring. Closely.”

Oh, wait, that’s why, he’s too busy worrying his every last nerve! Fairly so though, I think I would have done the same.

“Come on, old friend, you can do this.”

And the faith here? I don’t think I could ever have as much faith in technology and machinery as these boys do and I think that is a testament to them, what they do, and their equipment. Connections really do mean everything, and I know we had this discussion in one of the comment sections, but I think it really is possible that these 2060 epic works of machinery are sentient.

“Only a few thousand metres to go.”

“We made it!

And we have lift off! The dream is a reality.

“You have pizza?”

“No, I was joking.”

Meanie. Alan took you seriously. Although why I don’t know!

And the rescue is pulled off with success! Back to Earth we go, after another ‘Thunderbird; debate;

“This way, I get to ride in Thunderbird Two. I mean, it is the coolest Thunderbird.”

“Right?”

New catchphrase for Virgil?

“I’m choosing to ignore that.”

“Virgil, it’s your heat shields! They took took much damage on launch. Thunderbird two is going to burn up on re-entry!”

“Virgil, I’m coming for ya’!”

“It’s too late, Alan. Thunderbird Two is caught in Earth’s gravity.”

Yes, Scott, just shove Brains out of the way! I must admit I love that scene.

“Virgil, you guys have to bail out in the pod.”

“Negative, Scott. Can’t do it.”

“We can build another Thunderbird Two. We can’t rebuild you!”

That line still gets me. It’s so poignant.

“Eject, now!”

Virgil won’t do that. He’s a go down with your ship kinda guy.

“He’s right.”

And that is Brains’ way of saying that he should have thought of that! Really, Conrad is actually very, very smart. I think he should have been offered a job on the spot. I mean, that’s a pretty good interview performance, right?

“Conrad’s plan just might work.”

“Might?”

“It might definitely work!”

“I hope so.”

So do we all, Scott.

“Come on Thunderbird Two...”

And Thunderbird Two does. Hooray! The underwater landing was quite entertaining as well.

Now for a happpy shot.

“I should have reacted quicker.”

Stop being so hard on yourself! I think he’s one of the good ones.

“Hey, your quick thinking up there saved us. And Thunderbird Two.”

“So Conrad...”

Little shoulder bump! Love it.

“What’s next?”

“I’ll drop in and see my family in Slough and then it’s back to the Hub.”

He’ll have one heck of a story to tell.

“Hey Brains, how long would it take to re-fit Thunderbird Two to take Conrad back up to the Hub?”

“Thanks, but this time I’ll get a ride designed to go into space. Alan?”

“And which Thunderbird is the coolest?”

“Thunderbird Three is the coolest.”

“Yes, it is.”

He deserved a visit to the Island after saving Virgil’s (and his own of course) life like that. He seems like a really smart, switched on kid who just got stuck in the wrong place at the wrong time in a tough situation. I love episodes like this one because it reminds us that everyone on this show is human - even those in the Tracy family.

P.S. Shall we have the coolest Thunderbird debate? Now seems like a good time since the boys have instigated it. Stick your thoughts below if you want to!

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touchmycoat · 4 years ago

Note

5, 6 (i already know this is some insane amount), 9, 10, 16, 23, 26 (house)

BAAABE :*

5. What is the perfect environment for you to write in?

my office cubicle apparently kdsjfnksd

no but genuinely anywhere i can zone out. i make faces & mutter to myself when i write tho so, anywhere where that wouldn’t draw weird glances lmfao

6. If you’re really concentrating, how many words can you write in a day?

bahahaha i think Farmer’s Almanac holds the record rn—10k, give or take.

9. Do you prefer to write AUs, canon divergence, or canon-compliant fic?

#selfintrospection, my pattern per fandom seems to be starting with canon divergence! I’m a side characters ho, y’all know this, so I always like to recenter the narrative & get a surer foothold in my own interpretations of character first. but after that.... no preference! I love (and have written) all three to great enjoyment heheheh just depends on where i wanna see ‘em fuck

10. Do you enjoy writing dialogue, exposition, or plot the most?

NFJDNFJDNFJD HOW CAN I CHOOSE

Exposition is sexy, and i get to be the most experimental & excessive & self-indulgent here w/ style choices.

Dialogue is sexy, ‘cause voices and humor and dirty talk and heartbreak and communication!!! I’m a movie ho so i’m all about that plot-driving script game ;;;;

Plot is sexy ‘cause that’s where you get to fuck around with all the canon themes, subvert & avert & redistribute them!!!!!!!! I’m a slut for that!!!!!!!!!

can’t choose won’t choose :’D

16. What is your most underrated fic?

LMFAO you know i’m gonna say Sword of the Yi Maiden ;) she’s basically like, our child ;;

23. If you had to remix one of your own fics, which would it be and how would you remix it?

well once i sort out the single dad!Song Lan universe, i’d loooooove to switch gears & swerve into single dad!Xiao Xingchen B) just for kicks. But where Song Lan is like, a high school lit teacher and A-Qing is our favorite local delinquent child. XXC gets called in for a parent-teacher conference, and he’s actually kind of dreading it at first because AQ honestly never had too many complaints about the English teacher, so if this Song Laoshi was suddenly going to betray his daughter’s trust and tattle on her XXC would def take AQ’s side.

But! Turns out SL’s calling him in to be like “hey, AQ never does homework but is fine with participating in class if i kind of trick her into arguing about it, so i figured she just really doesn’t like being told what to do. That’s fine! But that also means I don’t think she’ll respond well to me sitting her down to talk about her higher education options, so I figured I’d run it past the parent first to see if you have any thoughts about how we’re going to proceed.”

it’d be SO fucking funny... AQ stops skipping class or stops zoning out the moment she catches onto her dad’s little ~thing for Song Laoshi. She starts challenging him in class instead on every little thing (”yeah but don’t you think it’s inherently racist to require us to read conrad at all, if there are so many books out there written by actual African postcolonial authors”) but he’s just happy she’s engaging so they bond

they’re both super proud and near tears at graduation, and AQ is too but to hide her own embarrassingly feelings she’s like “don’t pretend y’all aren’t just crying ‘cause you can finally date each other now that it won’t be fucking WEIRD for me”

26. Which part of House was the hardest to write?

hmmmmm I think I had the most number of false starts w ch. 3!! i never save shit rip but at one point i straight up had like.... 13 pages all blacked out? Oh i remember, the scene where AQ first tests SL. I had that set in like, the breakfast stall, in a busy street, a quiet street, etc. etc. I was putting each of their conversations in different contexts too, just seeing how they would play out based on the surroundings??? i even thought about dropping AQ’s POV completely at one point but I’m very glad i didn’t. The current version is actually the very first opening for the chapter i ever wrote so, el oh el, i try not to think all that effort went to waste. It’s more like, I had some ideas, but i had to prove none of them would work before i could proceed with this one, y’know?

BUT TELL YOU WHAT I DID SAVE THO. The first draft of the Ch. 2 opening? After I wrote this i was like “yikes this is way too conventional a set-up for a flashback let’s just do it,” and wrote the current version on ao3 lmao. I kept the chapped knuckles thing~

Under the Cut:

((Behind the Scenes of Fic Writing Asks!))

Song Lan stood at the entrance of his room in the inn, fist clenched hard around Fuxue’s hilt as the rain came in. Night had been the herald, and now, the lantern at the top of the stairs to Song Lan’s left was flickering wildly, buffeted about by the stormy wind.

The inn’s owner, an older woman in her 50s, spoke a string of worried utterances as she hurried up the stairs to close the window. As her hands approached the latch though, Song Lan sensed bloodthirst. Fuxue went flying.

The woman screamed, but the harm was over; a mutated critter of a hungry ghost slumped against the window frame, pinned there by Fuxue’s cool blade. Instead of closing the window for her, Song Lan pressed two paper talismans on either side. He pulled out Fuxue and watched the hungry ghost dissipate.

“Daozhang, daozhang, gratitude,” the woman wept. “A few here and there is nothing, you know? But once they begin to stay, and bigger things start to come, and we have young ones in the house, oh, it terrifies me, what state this city has been falling into��”

Fuxue returned to its sheathe, and Song Lan still had his fly-whisk tucked in his arm. He gave the inn owner a polite bow.

“I will attempt an extermination tonight.”

“Daozhang is so reliable,” the woman said, tears instantly transforming into simpering gratitude. Her distress had been in part a show, meant to move Song Lan into action. Song Lan did not mind; this was his third night at the inn, after all, and the second time the inn owner’s requested a favor from him. It stood to reason that she would think he needs more affective convincing, even if she’s wrong.

“I may trouble you for tea upon my return,” he murmured. When the woman reached out to pat his elbow in a matronly gesture, Song Lan stepped back, disguising the gesture as a readjustment of his robes as he replaced the stack of talismans back in his sleeve.

“Of course,” she replied, hand waving in the air before lowering back down to her side. A spot of tension eased at the base of Song Lan’s neck. “The stove never stops burning in our kitchen, particularly when we have guests. Just give our door a knock if the evening chef isn’t around. We’ll take care of you.”

Song Lan was grateful. He’d need the hot drink when he returned from the rain—soaking in the deluge always left his skin feeling beaten and bloated. And the sensation, if untreated, never failed to transform itself into two long iron nails hammered deep into his skull and brain. The pain was best avoided if at all possible.

(Xiao XingChen knew this about him. Nothing’s ever eased the migraines faster than XingChen’s smile as he wordlessly pushed a cup of hot water or tea across the table. Nothing’s ever distracted Song Lan from the pain more effectively than wondering exactly what would happen, if XingChen’s fingers lingered and his own could touch, just lightly, those perpetually chapped knuckles.)

(Take better care of yourself, Song Lan had once chastised when blood came seeping up between cracked skin.

I forget to, XingChen had confessed, sheepish lines crinkling around his eyes.

Had Song Lan been anybody else, he would’ve said out loud what he wished he could’ve said out loud: I’ll do it then.

Had Song Lan been anybody else, he would’ve thumbed a layer of protective grease over Xiao XingChen’s dry hands himself, save them both the need for cheesy lines and impotent promises. Words often got him into trouble, he knew this; he much preferred the vows made in every shared action that was mutually fostered into consistency. But what did it say about him, that his hands flinched from touch and Xiao XingChen walked at a careful radius around him, that he couldn’t make a vow on any level that counted?)

The extermination was no reprieve from the discomfort, the dissatisfaction, the disassembly of it all. The sky was falling apart and so was his skin. Moderation was less a stranger to Song Lan than longing, but tonight, the berating of his body was not moderated at all.

A year of searching, over, just like that.

An opportunity to apologize, gone, just like that.

A promise.

A dream.

So do you like him then? You want to really build a family with him?

Gone. Just like that.

#microdactyls #asks #THANKS BABE #LOVE ME SOME NAVEL GAZING

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kylajamieson · 5 years ago

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Kind of Animal Launch

September 10th, 2019 6-8pm at the Vancouver Art Rental & Sales Gallery (located in the Vancouver Art Gallery)

Kyla Jamieson with Rosemary Xinhe Hu and Megan Jones hosted by Adèle Barclay RSVP on Facebook

**Accessibility is our priority**

☯ Chapbook Launch: KIND OF ANIMAL by Kyla Jamieson ☯

“it takes two years for me to turn a stranger into a friend i wonder what kind of animal that makes me. maybe i’m some kind of tree.”

Join us for a gentle evening of celebration to mark the publication of Kyla Jamieson’s début chapbook, Kind of Animal (Rahila’s Ghost Press, Spring 2019). She will read from her chapbook and will be joined by Rosemary Xinhe Hu and Megan Jones. This event will be hosted by Adèle Barclay at the Vancouver Art Rental and Sales Gallery, located in the Vancouver Art Gallery, on the unceded land of the Musqueam, Squamish and Tsleil-Waututh Nations. This is land with which the Chemainus and Sto:lo Nations also have a relationship.

Doors open at 6:00, show at 6:30 sharp. Readings will last approximately 30 minutes and a detailed schedule will be posted one week prior to the event. We suggest a donation of $5 at the door if you have the means. We will have chapbooks and books by our poets and host available; cash payment is preferred.

~ LOCATION ~ The Art Rental & Sales Gallery is located on the ground floor of the Vancouver Art Gallery. Note that this event coincides with the VAG’s extended-hours entrance-by-donation evening. YOU DO NOT NEED TO WAIT IN THE LINE to the VAG. Entering through the Hornby street entrance, take a sharp right and proceed past security to the end of the hall, where you will find the Art Rental & Sales Gallery on your right. If you cannot attend in person, please check out the ~livestream~ of this event! Follow Kyla (@airymeantime) for details and to view the livestream.

~ ACCESSIBILITY ~ Accessibility is our priority and we are opening this invitation early to allow time for guests to correspond with us about how we can make this event accessible to them. We have been supported in this work by Leah Horlick, who co-founded the Reverb reading series with Estlin McPhee, and Zoe Mackoff de Miranda, Manager of the Art Rental & Sales Gallery. Please scroll down for accessibility notes.

~ CHAPBOOK + READERS + HOST ~

About KIND OF ANIMAL

The poems in Kind of Animal document the immediate aftermath of a concussion and the symptom-woven seasons that follow. In concrete, visceral, and accessible language, Jamieson illuminates the lived reality of an invisible illness that is often reduced to medical jargon or symptom labels and difficult for outsiders to comprehend. As time collapses and expands around her and the life she once lived drifts further and further away, Jamieson turns to dreamscapes and ‘the internet of [her] being’ for guidance. What began as a deep desire for a return to normalcy morphs, over the course of this journey, into a fierce determination to love and value herself and her life exactly as they are. These poems are a portal to a new perspective, a flare sent up to mark the spot where despair turns into hope.

ROSEMARY XINHE HU (she/her/hers)

Rosemary was born in Dalian 大连, China. Her family immigrated to Vancouver when she was 3. Since then she has run and jumped and gotten depressed many times. She is nearing the end of her degree in Speech Sciences at UBC. Her research focuses on language revitalization work on Gitksan, an endangered Indigenous language in northern BC. She performs at various open mics throughout this city, and just recently published her first chapbook: words crack, my broken brain. This chapbook includes the year-long documentation of the recovery, resilience, and re-gaining of autonomy from a girl with a dangerous cyclic mental illness. She doesn’t have answers, but she knows at least we could continue to have words. You can find her on instagram @rosemaryxinhe and get in touch to purchase a chapbook, or purchase one from Massy Books!

MEGAN JONES (she/her)

Megan Jones is a poet whose writing can be found in literary journals like Room Magazine, Poetry Northwest, and PRISM. Her chapbook, Normal Women, is published by Rahila’s Ghost Press. She is the marketing manager at Greystone Books, a non-fiction publisher of books about science, nature, climate action, and social issues, and is currently at work on a full length poetry collection. KYLA JAMIESON (she/her) Kyla lives and relies on the unceded territories of the Musqueam, Squamish, and Tsleil-Waututh Nations. She is the author of Kind of Animal (Rahila’s Ghost Press 2019), a poetry chapbook that documents the aftermath of a brain injury. Her work has appeared in Poetry Is Dead, Room Magazine, GUTS Canadian Feminist Magazine, Peach Mag, The Maynard, and Plenitude, and her first book of poems placed third in the 2018 Metatron Prize for Rising Authors, judged by CA Conrad and Anne Boyer. Find her on instagram as @airymeantime or on a rock next to a river.

Hosted by: ADELE BARCLAY (she/they)

Adèle Barclay’s writing has appeared in The Fiddlehead, The Heavy Feather Review, The Pinch, Fog Machine, The Puritan, PRISM international, and elsewhere. She is the recipient of the 2016 Lit POP Award for Poetry and the 2016 Walrus Readers’ Choice Award for Poetry and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Her debut poetry collection, If I Were in a Cage I’d Reach Out for You, (Nightwood, 2016) won the 2017 Dorothy Livesay Poetry Prize. Her second collection of poetry, Renaissance Normcore, is forthcoming from Nightwood Editions in October 2019. She is Arc Magazine‘s Poet in Residence and an editor at Rahila’s Ghost Press.

~ ACCESSIBILITY INFO ~

Accessibility is not a checklist; it is an ongoing process that involves care, trust, and energy. As Mia Mingus puts it, “Access is Love.” We would like to hear from you about what we can do to make this event accessible to you. This event’s accessibility contacts are: Rosemary ([email protected]) and Kyla ([email protected]). Please try to contact us at least one week before the event; the earlier the better. You don’t need to be 100% committed to attending to reach out! We look forward to hearing from you.

Below are some notes about the space and accessibility options.

ALCOHOL: This is a dry event.

ASL: We will be happy to provide ASL interpretation. If you think you would like to attend and will require ASL interpretation, please let us know by August 18th by emailing us at one of the addresses above. CHILDCARE: We are prepared to provide free childcare in the offices located across the hall from the gallery space. Please try to give us a heads up by August 30th if you think you might like to make use of childcare, and be sure to let us know if your kiddos have allergies or accessibility needs. ESSENTIAL OILS: Note there are likely to be individuals in attendance who use essential oils to treat post-concussion symptom headaches and migraines.

PARKING: There is a public pay lot accessible from Hornby Street just across from the Gallery; it shares a driveway with the Fairmont Hotel Vancouver and is located at 777 Hornby Street. There is metered street parking in the vicinity and other parkades in the area.

PCS: Feel free to use sunglasses, earplugs, headphones, eye masks, and other accessibility aids during the event, including the readings. There will be no moving or flashing visuals or projections and no flash photography. There is no fluorescent lighting in this space.

QUIET SPACES: There is a quiet spot up one flight of stairs from the event space (also easily accessible by elevator) with a couch where guests are welcome to sit and rest.

SCENTS/MCS: This is not a scent-reduced space. In order to create a low-scent space, we request that guests refrain from wearing perfumes, colognes or other scented products and smoke far away from the entrance to the space. We also ask that guests not wear clothing that has recently been laundered with scented detergents or dryer sheets. This is an act of care towards folks with multiple chemical sensitivity. Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha has written an excellent piece on access intimacy and why this is important that you can read on her website.

SEATING: There will be a range of seating options available, including a couch, benches, and basic folding chairs. We are happy to reserve seats for those with access needs and the folks they wish to attend with. Please feel free to bring a cushion.

SNACKS: We will have snacks (including sweets!) available. All snacks will be nut-free and we ask that any food you bring into the event be free of tree nuts (including coconut and pine nuts) so the space can be accessed by folks with airborne anaphylactic allergies. TAXIS: If you are taking a cab, have them drop you off at the Hornby entrance to the Vancouver Art Gallery (750 Hornby Street). We can help you get a cab to leave the event.

TRANSPORTATION: Many bus routes stop near the Vancouver Art Gallery.

WASHROOMS: There are multi-stall gendered washrooms as well as a single-stall all genders, wheelchair accessible washroom on the main floor of the gallery, near the Hornby street entrance on the west side of the building.

WATER: There is a water fountain down the hall from this space. Please bring a refillable water bottle to help us reduce the environmental impact of this event.

WHEELCHAIR ACCESSIBILITY: The Vancouver Art Gallery and the Vancouver Art Rental & Sales Gallery, which is located on the main floor of the VAG, are wheelchair accessible (this includes washrooms). A RAMP accessibility audit of the space has not yet been done.

THANK YOU WE LOVE YOU <3

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demitgibbs · 7 years ago

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What’s Hot South Florida: Dec. 7 – Dec. 13

Thursday, December 7

The Pub Wilton Manors presents their annual Holiday Wreath Auction at 7 p.m. hosted by Electra. They invite the entire community to come bid on incredible wreaths donated by local businesses and individuals. 100% of the proceeds go to Kids In Distress.

RJR Presents at the Duncan Theatre at Palm Beach College (4200 Congress Ave, Lake Worth), an evening with International recording artist Petula Clark. Tickets are $50, $60 and $75 at DuncanTheatre.org or by calling 561-868-3309.

The Museum of Contemporary Art (MOCA), North Miami is bringing virtual reality to Miami with the solo exhibition “How to Unlock a Portal” by Swedish photographer Jacob Felländer! In celebration of Art Basel Miami Beach 2017, the exhibition will be on display from today through Feb. 11, 2018. “The Brave Frontier” allows guests to enter inside the artwork, made possible by virtual reality goggles. Felländer takes the process a step further and creates portal prints – images taken inside this virtual landscape and then brought back into the real world. The experience ends with a portal print that is brought to life with a 3D printer.

Whether you are a new, existing or potential MDGLCC member, join them for their monthly website training workshop at the LGBT Visitor Center (1130 Washington Avenue, Miami Beach) from 11 a.m. – 12 p.m., where you will learn how to utilize GayBizMiami.com, one of the many marketing tools made available to our members to attract new customers and increase your visibility. Bring your laptop and engage with chamber staff as we teach you how to utilize these online tools to: complete your organization profile and add SEO phrases, advertise promotions through “Shop at the Dot”, promote your upcoming events, upload videos, photos and multimedia content, recruit talent with job postings, and get technical support and much more. Free admission. RSVP is required at gaybizmiami.com, [email protected] or 305-673-4440.

Saturday, December 9

The Pub presents the Gay Men’s Chorus of South Florida’s holiday after party where you will be able to meet and greet the members of the chorus after their holiday concert. Be prepared for some spontaneous holiday fun.

The Club Fort Lauderdale presents Cumunion, and International sex party (second Saturday of each month) from 3-7 p.m.

Ramrod presents their monthly Underground Invasion (second Saturday of every month), where it’s all about the music. This month’s special DJ is Tomas Arias.

Noche Latina Saturdays inside the Ivy Dance Room and Patio at The Manor Complex celebrates the Birthday of their Maestro, DJ Larry Larr with special guest, direct from Puerto Rico: Amalara Sofia, along with hostess Taina Norell. They also feature Latin Go-Go Papi’s. Saturdays at the Manor are from 11 p.m. to 4 a.m. and feature NO COVER before midnight, and only $7 for members after midnight and $10 for non-members.

Sunday, December 10

Lips, the ultimate in drag dining, will host a not-your-ordinary Holiday Toy Drive to benefit Children’s Diagnostic & Treatment Center during its Dragalicious Gospel Brunch on with two show seating’s at 11 a.m. and 1:30 p.m. In the spirit of giving, guests are encouraged to bring an unwrapped children’s toy to receive a free Lips’ world famous frozen cosmo valid for a future visit. Reservations are required and can be made by calling (954) 567-0987. A $10 cover charge in addition to brunch will apply to each attendee and go directly to Children’s Diagnostic & Treatment Center.

Stonewall National Museum – Wilton Manors Gallery presents Expose: A Collection of Classical Nude Photographs by Anthony Timiraos. This is a STONEWALL AUTHOR PRESENTATION and takes place at 4 p.m. Almost two years in the making, “expose” is a rich collection of 246 pages of full color nude photos of nearly 40 different models. Shot in the style of Old Master’s paintings, the artists’ collection of nude photographs provides a diverse look at the (mostly) male bodies positioned in classical poses. His diversity of models is unique, not just diversity of race and ethnicity but of age, body type and most significantly, diversity of culture. Free to Attend. Suggested Donation $5. Signed copies will be available for sale. Proceeds benefit Stonewall National Museum & Archives

Tuesday, December 12

The Greater Fort Lauderdale Gay and Lesbian Chamber of Commerce present their quarterly luncheon at the Conrad Fort Lauderdale from 11:30 a.m. to 1 p.m. The cost including tax, gratuity, and valet parking is $40 for members and $45 for future members. RSVP is required by emailing [email protected].

321 Men’s Club presents their Christmas Party from 9 p.m. to midnight with a member sponsored open bar and refreshments (regular membership and entry rates apply).

Wednesday, December 13

Tonight promises to be a very special day for the LGBT community as Hotspots Media Group hosts its 9th annual Holiday Celebration at the W Fort Lauderdale from 7 to 10 p.m. This celebration doubles as a benefit; for: The Pride Center at Equality Park and Latinos Salud, two organizations that work so hard for our community. The night will also feature the sounds of internationally acclaimed DJ Tracy Young, a Silent Auction area with more than 40 items to bid on, and as usual one of the best Holiday parties of the season. Tickets are only $10 in advance by going to Hotspots.LGBT/Celebration and $15 at the door. If you are a Hotspots advertiser, go to Hotspots.LGBT/VIP for your complimentary tickets or you can call 954-928-1862 ext 14.

Chardees Lounge is presenting their Grand Opening two night event tonight and tomorrow Thursday, December 14 with complimentary well drinks and hors d’oeuvres from 6-8p.m. both days. The will also feature live entertainment with Ruben tonight and Brendan on Thursday.

Hot Stuff

Neptune’s Daughter Tattoo’s (in the Rumors Shopping Plaza) is offering 15% gift cards if you mention their ad in Hotspots.

These are HOT Films:

If you are gay and have been to Atlanta, you have more than likely made a trip to Swinging Richards, one of the most famous Male Strip clubs in the world.

Breaking Glass Pictures has acquired North American rights to award-winning filmmaker Gerald McCullouch’s first documentary All Male, All Nude, which had its DVD and digital release on December 5. The DVD will contain additional filmmaking by McCullouch utilizing the skin heavy outtakes as well as a dedication to one of the dancers who went missing shortly after filming wrapped.

Described by Michael Musto as a “fabulous”, “sexy”, and “illuminating” (OUT) film that will

“change your mind about male strippers forever” (BearWorld Magazine), Gerald dives into

the lives of men who work at America’s only all male, all nude, gay strip club located in the

heart of the Bible Belt.

“Gerald has pulled back the curtain on Atlanta’s notorious and legendary gay strip club, Swinging Richards” said Richard Ross, Co-President of Breaking Glass. “He examines the mind and soul of the men who bare their bodies nightly for our enjoyment. If you ever wondered, who are these men, and why would they do this, you’ll walk away with an appreciation, and greater insight, of the whole club culture and camaraderie.”

All Male, All Nude, the documentary is 64 minutes in length, NR, and is only $19.99.

If you like to read, you have undoubtedly have read Armistead Maupin’s “Tales of the City” series of books. And if you don’t like to read maybe you saw the movie. Either way, you know what an incredible story teller Armistead is. I am a big fan! Therefore, you can only imagine how excited I was when I heard about Jennifer M. Kroot’s Documentary The Untold Tales Of Armistead Maupin.

The Untold Tales Of Armistead Maupin is the winner of the SPECTRUM Audience Award from the Nashville Film Festival, Best Documentary from FilmOut San Diego and Best Documentary Jury award from OutShine Miami Film Festival.

The Untold Tales Of Armistead Maupin examines the life and work of one of the world’s most beloved story tellers, following his evolution from a conservative son of the Old South into a gay rights pioneer whose novels have inspired millions to claim their own truth.

Jennifer M. Kroot’s documentary about the creator of Tales of the City moves nimbly between playful and poignant and laugh-out-loud funny. With help from his friend, Maupin offers a disarmingly frank look at the journey that took him from the jungles of Vietnam to the bathhouses of 70s San Francisco to the front line of the American culture war. Featuring Laura Linney, Ian McKellen, Olympia Dukakis, Neil Gaiman, Margaret Cho, Jonathan Groff and Amy Tan.

The Untold Tales Of Armistead Maupin is now available on DVD and will have its broadcast premiere January 1, 2018 on PBS Independent Lens. The documentary can be ordered on Amazon.com and WolfeVideo.com for only $24.99

from Hotspots! Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2017/12/05/whats-hot-south-florida-dec-7-dec-13/ from Hot Spots Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.tumblr.com/post/168223586860

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cynthiajayusa · 7 years ago

Text

What’s Hot South Florida: Dec. 7 – Dec. 13

Thursday, December 7

Saturday, December 9

The Club Fort Lauderdale presents Cumunion, and International sex party (second Saturday of each month) from 3-7 p.m.

Ramrod presents their monthly Underground Invasion (second Saturday of every month), where it’s all about the music. This month’s special DJ is Tomas Arias.

Sunday, December 10

Tuesday, December 12

321 Men’s Club presents their Christmas Party from 9 p.m. to midnight with a member sponsored open bar and refreshments (regular membership and entry rates apply).

Wednesday, December 13

Hot Stuff

Neptune’s Daughter Tattoo’s (in the Rumors Shopping Plaza) is offering 15% gift cards if you mention their ad in Hotspots.

These are HOT Films:

If you are gay and have been to Atlanta, you have more than likely made a trip to Swinging Richards, one of the most famous Male Strip clubs in the world.

Described by Michael Musto as a “fabulous”, “sexy”, and “illuminating” (OUT) film that will

“change your mind about male strippers forever” (BearWorld Magazine), Gerald dives into

the lives of men who work at America’s only all male, all nude, gay strip club located in the

heart of the Bible Belt.

All Male, All Nude, the documentary is 64 minutes in length, NR, and is only $19.99.

source https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2017/12/05/whats-hot-south-florida-dec-7-dec-13/ from Hot Spots Magazine http://hotspotsmagazin.blogspot.com/2017/12/whats-hot-south-florida-dec-7-dec-13.html

0 notes

hotspotsmagazine · 7 years ago

Text

What’s Hot South Florida: Dec. 7 – Dec. 13

Thursday, December 7

Saturday, December 9

The Club Fort Lauderdale presents Cumunion, and International sex party (second Saturday of each month) from 3-7 p.m.

Ramrod presents their monthly Underground Invasion (second Saturday of every month), where it’s all about the music. This month’s special DJ is Tomas Arias.

Sunday, December 10

Tuesday, December 12

321 Men’s Club presents their Christmas Party from 9 p.m. to midnight with a member sponsored open bar and refreshments (regular membership and entry rates apply).

Wednesday, December 13

Hot Stuff

Neptune’s Daughter Tattoo’s (in the Rumors Shopping Plaza) is offering 15% gift cards if you mention their ad in Hotspots.

These are HOT Films:

If you are gay and have been to Atlanta, you have more than likely made a trip to Swinging Richards, one of the most famous Male Strip clubs in the world.

Described by Michael Musto as a “fabulous”, “sexy”, and “illuminating” (OUT) film that will

“change your mind about male strippers forever” (BearWorld Magazine), Gerald dives into

the lives of men who work at America’s only all male, all nude, gay strip club located in the

heart of the Bible Belt.

All Male, All Nude, the documentary is 64 minutes in length, NR, and is only $19.99.

from Hotspots! Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2017/12/05/whats-hot-south-florida-dec-7-dec-13/

0 notes