#75th Post

[perksofbeingatallpotato]

Quarantine

Harry Hart x Reader Warnings: A little swear word. Word Count: 1,345 A/N: Surprise? I’m back again with another story! Started writing this about two weeks in after the world started to shut down. Maybe I should’ve put that as a trigger warning. To some, the lockdowns and the pandemic may be traumatic. Is it too soon to write about the pandemic? So, if you're following me on Twitter, you probably know that I've had covid once again. I tested positive on the antigen test after I experienced headaches and colds, and then I lost my sense of taste the day after. I think that pretty much confirms the accuracy of the test. My symptoms are mild and have improved since. I'm on my 5th day of isolation today. Thank you for the get well wishes! Much appreciated.

The title might sound boring, but I hope what I've written is not.

"I'm going to have to require you two for quarantine. We have to make sure you weren't infected. As we speak, both of your places are being prepared. But, you two are going to have to pick who's flat you’re going to stay at for 21 days. I need you two to look after the other, and support each other while in isolation." Merlin said as if he was giving you two a mission brief through the screen.

Your mission overseas went well. However, with the rising number of cases of nCoV all over the world, Kingsman couldn’t risk an infection within the agency. Even if they’re stocked and well-equipped to handle a case or the quarantine of their agents, they deemed it would be better for your overall health to stay at your own home, or whichever would be decided.

You opened your mouth to try to say something but Harry beat you to it. "I think it would be best to stay at (Y/N)'s place." He suggested. "(Y/N), do you agree?" Merlin asked you. "Yeah, sure." You haven’t thoroughly thought about this, you just agreed because it seemed like the proper answer at the moment. "Very well then. I'll have your things prepared, Harry. Anything you might need out of the usual aside from your clothes, toiletries, electronics, books?" "Let me think about it. I'll put it on the list if any. Thank you, Merlin. I'll be in my room packing a few of my things." Harry said to you and to Merlin, then he left.

"Merlin, I think it'll be better to convert the room I use as my home office for Harry's room while he's there?" You asked although it was more of a suggestion. "I was meaning to ask you that. I'll finalize the furniture orders.” You could hear his keyboard clacking, “And done. How about you? Do you need anything?" "Uh, I lost my yoga mat. I think I'll need one." "Added to the list. Anything else?" "Let me think about it too. I'll ring you if I've come up with something. Thanks, Merlin, you're the best."

As you walked back to your room inside the Kingsman mansion, you realized you were not exactly fond of the idea of having to live with Harry for weeks. You’re not used to sharing your space with someone. Harry would essentially be moving in. He’s probably not a bad roommate though, you just know it’s going to be a huge adjustment, especially with the fact that both of you aren’t allowed to go outside for weeks.

It took the whole day, but considering the norm outside of Kingsman, the furniture and other essential deliveries were fast. Your flat was spick and span, and your home office, Harry’s room, for the time being, was set up as if he’d been living there for quite a while.

You unlocked the door and welcomed Harry to his new temporary home. You gave him a little tour of the place, though there isn’t much to see. The last stop of the tour is his room, and you left him to get settled. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

The next thing you did was take a shower to wash off the day. You were poked and prodded by the Kingsman staff in personal protective equipment while waiting to be sent home. Both of your and Harry’s lab results are normal, but it’s not enough assurance that none of you caught the virus.

Merlin sent you home with a feast of takeout food for you and Harry, knowing you’re both exhausted to cook on your first night in quarantine. It’s almost unbelievable he’s human with all that brainpower to think of everything and then execute those things.

After dressing in your pajamas, you went downstairs to reheat the food, but Harry had the same idea. He was already in the middle of setting the table. “Dinner would be ready in a few m–“ the ding of the oven interrupted him, “–oh, moments.”

You were sat across from each other at your 4-seater dining table. Although this was your flat, it felt foreign to be in it with Harry. You’re not exactly close to him and have never hung out with him outside of Kingsman, you get to train and sent on missions paired up together, but you haven’t really bonded with him on a personal level. Now suddenly, you’re living with him. 

There was a little small talk, including agreeing on how good was the food, “I have to ask Merlin where he got this because this is good,” you said. “Just don’t tell him that it was good, otherwise he’d say that he’s the one who made it.” And you shared a laugh.

Harry would’ve also done the dishes had you not insisted it should be your turn. If you had to pry the plates off his hands, you would. Besides, there’s still plenty of time for him to do the dishes as he pleased. Thankfully, he let you do it without a fight.

The next morning, Harry was already up before you were. When you arrived downstairs, everything was already set on the table. He was probably reading the morning news on his iPad.

“Good morning. Time to eat.” “Sorry, have you been waiting long? You should’ve had breakfast ahead without me.” “Nonsense.” He then poured you a cup of tea and you smiled in return.

The rest of the breakfast went by uneventfully, by now Harry has caught on with the division of tasks, but it’ll be better to talk with him about this just to be clear. You both got separate instructions from Merlin and had to do a daily medical log while in quarantine. So the two of you disappeared into your rooms to do that and some other paperwork.

By lunch, you finally went over with Harry the division of tasks. It’s not like you were setting house rules, it’s just so that you both pull your weight around the house, and not feel like a burden to the other. He did have some questions, suggestions, and other things he would like to do while he’s at your place. You have a small lawn in your backyard, and he asked about your plans for the place. He suggested it could be improved with a few plants, aside from the faded lawn chairs and the wild grass that has survived on its own. You agreed to let him do whatever he thinks would be good. He gave up living in his own flat probably thinking of your own comfort, this is the least you could do for him.

And then the rest of the week was spent with the following routine, except on the weekend.

Morning workout

Taking turns cooking breakfast or doing the dishes

Taking a shower

1-2 hours of desk work

Lunch. Again, whoever’s in charge of the cooking and the cleaning up

A little tidying up of the house or your room

Few more paperwork

The rest of the day goes on without a specific task at hand. Sometimes you do a bit more workout. Sometimes you try to finish a few of the personal projects you’ve started a while ago. Sometimes, you do a bit more online shopping.

Dinner. Dinner arrangement. You know how it works.

But you often end the day with a bath and skincare or a self-care (Yes, you’re a bad-ass agent and you’re also a huge fan of self-care)

By Saturday, you went on with your usual weekend plan of not getting out of bed until your stomach complained that it was hungry. However, you suddenly jumped out of bed, ran to the bathroom, quickly brushed your teeth, and washed your face.

You were doing a half-run going downstairs and yelled an apology. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” “I was beginning to think you died in your sleep,” Harry said, and you playfully pushed him on his shoulders.

It wasn't that late, just half-past nine, but Harry surely had been waiting for quite a while.

_____________________________________________________

Another A/N: Too light? Needs a bit more plot? Part 2? Yes. I’m just warming up. ;) Do you want this to be a series? You can suggest things. Let me know!

[fortheloveofaussiegrit]

Mark Webber at the 75th Years of Porsche: A night in the Museum, 8 June 2023 (📷fastandbold)

[just-just-gyllenhaal]

75th Annual Cannes Film Festival-The Inoccent Screening Cannes France(2022) pics....

[jessicatredes]

The town square was packed tight with people, corralled this way and that by Peacekeepers, dependent if you could be reaped or not.  Livestock or spectator.  Children moved slowly through the lines, fingers pricked and papers blotted with blood.  The southern sun already high in the sky, clothes specifically worn for the reaping showing signs of sweat and dirt already.  Banners with the Capitol emblem shifted with the soft summer wind.  While the nearby processing plants were closed for the holiday, the smell of leather still lingered in the air.

The front of the Justice Building had been transformed into a makeshift stage.  Several sets of chairs lined the outside of the building, each separated by a tall vase filled with native bluegrass and wild flowers.  Two glass bowls sat on either side of a microphone.  Thousands of slips of paper filled them, each adorned with a child’s name in identical print.  A small tapestry hung over the stands the bowls were on, embroidered with a cow skull and Ad multos annos; a wish for a long life.

Once the area had become claustrophobic and the cameras were rolling, the mayor’s family and living victors emerged from the building.  All look defeated, except for the woman following up the rear in a gaudy, bright outfit.  A pantsuit in deep navy, with what looked like tinsel running through the fabric, matched the woman’s hair, pulled into a high ponytail.  

“Sit! Sit!  We’re beginning soon everyone!”  The woman fretted, flocking between the two sides of the stage. “Everyone!  Good posture and big smiles!” 

Cordelia Poverly, Capitol Escort assigned to District 10 for a second year in a row.  Her anxious behavior was probably due to her opening year as an escort ending within the first ten minutes of the game.  Two twelve year olds reaped, killed in the immediate bloodbath.   In an interview alongside their mentors, Cordelia chirped that not all debuts were stellar; no indication of remorse for the dead.

Another handful of minutes passed before the Justice Building’s belltower rung out ten times, signaling the hour and start of the reaping.  The Capitol woman threw her ponytail over her shoulder, a bright smile on her face before stepping up to the microphone. 

“Welcome, welcome!  What a glorious morning to celebrate the start of the 68th Hunger Games,” She paused for a small clap, looking back at the others on the stage.  They followed suit, though less enthusiastically, before she continued.  “As we all know, the Hunger Games are a solemn reminder, brought forward by the Treaty of Treason, to never repeat the Dark Days.”

The many screens dotted around the square, presently broadcasting Cordelia’s introduction, flickered to a film all were familiar with.  Scenes of war and disarray, narrated by President Coriolanus Snow, shifted to peaceful clips.  Prosperity.  Joy.  Families together and clear skies.  As it came to an end, the screens switched back to Cordelia.

“Wonderful,” She sang. “And now, before selecting our brave tributes, let’s remember our living victor’s who proudly represented District 10 in prior games.”  

Turning slightly, she faced half to the crowd, half to the right of the stage.  Six chairs lined this side, with four occupied.  Two instead had a small card embossed with the district’s emblem.  Cordelia listed off the living, clapping as each briefly stood and waved to the crowd. 

“Falabella Hackett, 43rd Hunger Games… Colter Barlowe, 39th Hunger Games… Lusitano Whitlock, 27th Hunger Games… Valencia Camacho, 22nd Hunger Games…

“Fantastic! Now,” Cordelia said, turning back to the front and clasping her hands together.  “For the main event.”

The tinseled woman moved away from the microphone, standing behind the bowl on the right side of the stage.  She slipped her hand in.  Dug around the slips.  Pulled a lone paper out.  Moved back to the center.  All this done while the spectators looked on, holding hands and breath.  The late morning sun baking the already restless crowd.      

“For our brave young lady…” Cordelia paused long enough for a true hush to fall over the district.  “Marlo Hackett!”

There was a second of stillness as the name settled over the crowd, creeping across their minds.  The last name, just briefly said moments before, began to register.  Hackett.  Prior victor.  A startling and hysteric cry was let out on stage.  Falabella attempted to stifle her outburst, hand covering her mouth as she turned away from the cameras that would be focusing closely on her.  

In the last rows of the pack of children, a small girl, only thirteen, stepped out.  She looked pale.  Wiped the sweat from her brow as the sun continued to beat down on her.  She half-tripped, caught by another girl before they released her just as fast, like they’d somehow be reaped as well.  Eventually she staggered up the stairs.  Ushered by Cordelia to her spot on the stage.  Marlo looked to her mother, tears streaking her cheeks.  

“What a reaction from our latest victor,” Cordelia said, placing her hands over her heart in faux pity. “As always, after a tribute has been selected, a volunteer may step forward.  Do we have any valiant girls in the crowd?”

A beat.  Stifled crying was all that could be heard at first, little Marlo rubbing her eyes constantly.  Another.  Falabella racked with sobs.  Cordelia surveyed the crowd, preparing to move on to the boys.  Then, before she could speak, only a few rows away from the stage, a single hand raised.

“I’ll volunteer,” a seventeen year old called.  Her eyes briefly met with Falabella’s, before looking back to the Capitol woman.  The front rows parted.  Staggered away, confusion on their faces. Volunteer? This was a girl from one of the community homes.  No relation to the Hacketts, and little to no reason she’d feel the need to replace Marlo.  No reason to sign herself to certain death.  

The teenager walked forward, back straight and head high.  She reached the top of the stairs.  Her vision felt tunneled despite her attempted confidence, sunspots dancing in her eyes.  She copied Marlo, wiping the sweat from her face in an attempt to look more put together.  During this, Falabella had rushed to Marlo, yanking her daughter away from the front and back towards her chair.  Clutched her to her midsection.

“Lovely, I don’t believe District 10 has had a volunteer in several years!” Cordelia said, pulling the new tribute towards the microphone.  “Please, introduce yourself.” 

The girl cleared her throat.  Eyes danced to the cameras closest to her, ignoring the harrowed faces across from her.  A cold dread seeped into her.  The reality of what she’d done sinking in.  She stepped closer to the microphone, voice not betraying her nerves.

“Sutherland Acosta.” 

[misalpav]

here's a final reminder before the sat tmrw that the college board sucks!!

[sincerelya-stories]

If You Had Told

Rating: G

If you had told Plutarch Heavensbee that a mere escort from District 12 would be a key factor in the rebellion succeeding, he would have laughed.

Ao3

[datshitrandom]

Darren Criss attends the 75th Annual Tony Awards | June 12, 2022

[andy-clutterbuck]

Go check out the most recent post from Danai on Instagram! she's such a beautiful soul.

Oh thanks, friend. After a shit evening I threw myself into taking down my mountain of Christmas decorations and I'm still not done 4 hours in 😂 Would have taken me 12 years to see 'em.

[newnewyorker93]

I wrote a short & sweet little Ed & Stede fic (with a fancy Latin title, just for fun) 📚💚

[geekbetweenthelines]

Discussion on the #QuarterQuell jabberjays! We discuss Katniss and Finnick’s experiences with them in the arena and also explore Annie, Prim, and Snow’s POVs as they watch the 75th Games.

🎧 Listen to the ep on your podcast app, via our biolink, or at: bit.ly/catching-fire-podcast

💬 What is the most striking thing about the Capitol using jabberjays in the arena? Do you think the Capitol fabricated the voices or did they use real recordings?

📷 : This image is fanart of Katniss and Finnick by twirkle on #DeviantArt. Both characters are surrounded by trees while stuck with jabberjays. Above Finnick it says “Annie!!!” and next to Katniss it says “It's alright Finnick… it's not real. It's not your Annie...” Source: https://www.deviantart.com/twirkle/art/Just-a-jabberjay-310926545

[spiritofjustice]

I don’t think he’s gonna fit on my Mother shelves…

[lumiereandcogsworth]

Domestic Chaos

Adam/Belle + kid fic | word count: 2,060

“I can take Maurice if you take the girls outside. They’ve just finished their lessons and are in need of…” Belle looked to the side, watching as Renée raced back out to the balcony and started twirling like a pin-wheel. Juliette quickly followed suit. “I think they need a bit more space to run around,” she grinned.

“Yes…” Adam agreed, eyeing his daughters as they ran back inside, nearly bumping into a vase along the wall. “Perhaps before they break something, hm?”

Belle laughed, taking the crying baby into her arms and kissing his head as she started swaying side to side.

A sunny afternoon that is both blissful and chaotic in equal measure.

[just-just-gyllenhaal]

75th Annual Cannes Film Festival-The Inoccent Screening Cannes France(2022) pics....

[hisvictory]

↪    𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓  : cannot find it.    currently not accepting, expect slow to post.

i  made  a  disgusting  spectacle  of  myself,  right?  from @snowatop's : katniss everdeen.

" I WOULDN'T WORRY, THEY'LL FORGET COME MORNING. " turning so that the small of his back rests against the bar top 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛, hovering away from the grasping hands and prying eyes of the capitol, he continues: " they'll be too busy nursing throbbing headaches i'm sure, though they do have a fix for just about everything in the capitol. "

𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝, his grey eyes had however recognized her the moment of her entrance; the gala and party they currently attended? made mandatory by snow for all victors to be present at. after all when snow called, you came; lest he choke you with your own collar.

" so, 𝚔𝚊𝚝𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚗, " he no longer glances but now stares ahead towards the colorful menagerie of peacocks before them, and sips at the wine glass in his hand. " what thoughts do you have on the capitol? what you expected . . . or is it worse? "

[blau-rose]

Why did it take me this long, and you can thank tik tok for this one, but why did it take me this long to realize that the 75th Hunger Games was literally just The Hunger Games: All Stars Edition???

[keiththesurvivor]

Happy 75th birthday to the master of horror!