#margaret spencer

[pinktintedmonocle]

After losing her job at DynaTox, Margaret is out for revenge.

Sneking in a last minute ficlet for @ckhalloween23 . Rated General Audiences. For the prompt Witches.

[terrence-silver]

Could we please have a scenario where Terry just keeps fvcking beloved when someone walks in on them

---

In moments like these, he truly missed Margaret Spencer.

Milos Dadok.

His old waiting staff from approximately thirty years ago back when he was still stationed at his Beverly Hills statement Mayan temple mansion overlooking Griffith Park in the heart of LA, because if Terry had a time machine and the ability to place you in it along with himself, push a button and go back three decades, he supposed he'd simply do this in front of them.

But as things were, the posse he flew in from Korea would have to do, seeing how there were perks to their ascetic levels of discipline and among others, it was the fact that they never minded when he fucked you in front of them, without concealing it, his leisure infinite. It was his house after all, his rules, his domain, his court --- they, his honored guests from afar, naturally. But, that didn't render his daily habits obsolete just because they were here. Quite the contrary. Their stoicism, it was a learned skill they honed all their lives --- no differently than he himself did. His Fist didn't flinch when faced with pain, hardship, training, blood or guts. Sex. At you sprawled out on the couch as he took you from behind while they mingled around, patrolling the premises, Sensei Min-Jun, Morozov and Odell acting his as his modern-day equivalent of a Praetorian guard; not that he needed one, but he enjoyed the prestige of living like an Emperor simply because he could. Fucking like an Emperor simply because he had you. Why should he stop for anyone in the world? Anything in the world? Terry would envy even the smallest patch of exposed of flesh on your skin in front of anyone else, but his Fist? They were more like extensions of him. His eyes, his fingers, his muscles. Them seeing you beneath him counted as much as not being seen at all. Such was the tutelage of Kim Sun Yung. They functioned like a unit, when need be. One being, especially in times of war.

These were such times. The times of extreme measures.

-"Sasong."- Sensei Hyan-Woo stands on attention, addressing him and approaching the sofa, honorifics on display, hands crossed behind his back, seemingly unfettered that you had your face dug into the fabric of the couch, body jiggling back and forth under Terry's rhythm, your fingers desperately gripping the material, your gasps wordless. -"Security on the premises could be reinforced. What do you want us to do about it?"- He asks and Terry wasn't concerned about security or anyone breaking in, focusing on the tender flesh of your ass facing him. The idea was ludicrous. He'd leave his door wide open if need be as an invitation to anyone who wanted to cross him. He was king here. He'd act the king. If Larusso, Lawrence or whoever else wanted to play tough, well then, so be it. Kings don't hide. That's why they're kings. -"Let them come to us. I want them to be able to."- Terry manages through gritted teeth and waves of pleasure, rutting back and forth, eyes pinned on the outlined of your naked back, grabbing either side of your bouncing hips. -"Fight us on our own territory."- He adds through a heated grunt, his hands reaching forward to tangle themselves in your hair. Hyan-Woo nods, firm faced and icy, turning to leave, accepting his orders and directions; his poker face borderline amusing. -"Understood, Sasong."- He says with a small bow, the door of the lobby shuts behind him. The moan you've been suppressing comes out tattered and broken once you're alone, impaled on his cock.

Terry hums in appreciation in return. Shy, were you? Even now?

Oh, thirty years ago.

Thirty years ago, if Margaret was still around, she'd merely push the bridge of her glasses on her eyes at the sight of this, give you and him a speculative glance and continue working, ignoring the debauchery going on right in front of her, ever the face of unflinching professionalism. Unfortunately, good, old Mrs. Spencer wasn't around anymore, rest her soul. But some things? Some things and some habits never had to change. They only had to take a different shape.

[puella-peanut]

A Consummate Professional ll

Written for the @allvalley100 Word Drabble Challenge. This time it was “Snake Oil.” 100 words as counted by A03 Drafts. Third fill.

…

Mr. Silver's long departed to another day of questionable business activities when Margaret brings the boy his breakfast. 

She finds him propped up against pillows, blearily-eyed, tousle-haired and...in Mr. Silver's shirt. Though subtlety be damned, as he’s in Mr. Silver’s bed. 

She notices his small wince when she places the loaded tray on his lap, however. 

"Snake oil would do the trick, Mr. LaRusso." 

"Um—“

She's already heading back out. Mr. Silver needs his expresso. "For soreness."

Margaret closes the door on his mortified squeak.

She could always be counted upon for helpful advice. And being a consummate professional.

[elsonambulo]

For "first and last" @allvalley100

Terrence Silver's first breaths are quiet. Margaret knows this because she was there, taking him from the doctor, making sure he slept. All part of being Silver Sr's personal assistant.

She watches him grow up with his army of nannies and tutors. He's an observant child, a devious teen, and a calculating adult. The war sharpens him.

She's passed down from father to son as an employee. Terrence pays better, for obvious reasons.

She's old now, and Terrence clearly thinks she's close to death. But he'll take his last breaths before she does. And she'll be there for that, too.

[amorphousgenderlesscryptid]

Terry: Danny baby, any of the staff could get this off the shelf for you, why do you need me to do it?

Daniel: Oh, no reason hon :)

Terry: .....

Terry: He’s looking at my ass, isn’t he.

Margaret: Indeed, sir.

[leonisandmurex]

S.I.S.T.E.R.H.O.O.D  || ♡ The Queen Mother, ♡ Queen Elizabeth ii, ♡ Princess Margaret, ♡ Queen Camilla, ♡ Princess Anne, ♡ Lady Sarah McCorquodale, ♡ Jane Fellowes, ♡ Princess Diana, ♡ Lady Sarah Chatto, ♡ Countess of Wessex, ♡ Zara Tindall, ♡ The Princess of Wales, ♡ Pippa Matthews, ♡ Princess Beatrice, ♡ Princess Eugenie, ♡ Lady Louise Windsor ♡ Savannah Phillips, ♡ Isla Phillips, ♡ Mia Tindall, ♡ Princess Charlotte, ♡ Lena Tindall

[cacophonylily]

This made me so happy.

[bridgeportbritt]

Willington Palace | Sage, SimDonia

Margaret: Spencer, this is not the appropriate time to disucss this.

{TW This post mentions infertility, pregnancy loss and death. Please read at your own risk. The rest of the post is under the cut.}

Spencer: Mother, we just buried our father. There is no better time to discuss what ailed him! What if it’s something that’s passed on to myself or Diana or to our children? This is something we should know. A man of his age and health should be here with us!

Margaret: There is nothing more to tell, son. As the doctor stated, your father had heart failure. There was nothing more to be done or to discuss.

Spencer: I can sense that there is more you, the doctors, this whole... institution is not telling us! You’re not an expert at lying, Mother.

Margaret: This is the time to mourn your father. We are all sad that he has gone so soon, but we mustn’t dwell on the details. Your father would want us to be strong and move forward. Especially you... King Spencer.

Spencer: And what if what plagued father, plagues us? What if... it already has?

Margaret: What do you mean, son?

Spencer holding back tears: I mean, Elizabeth and I are having the same struggles you and dad had with... producing an heir.

Margaret surprised: R-Really?

Spencer: Yes. Elizabeth was pregnant, but- but...

Elizabeth: It’s alright, dear. Maybe your mother is right. We shouldn’t discuss this now. Would you like some more tea?

Margaret: Yes, Elizabeth is right. Diana, why don’t you head upstairs and finish packing? We have an early start to get you back to school in the morning. Spencer, Elizabeth, would you care for more tea?

Diana’s Voice Echos: Yes, Mother.

Butler: Your Majesty? Your Majesty?

Diana startled: Yes?

Butler: The Grand Duchess of Umbrage is here. 

Diana: Great. Thank you, Lionel. Please send her in.

[royal-confessions]

“Margaret Thatcher, Raine Countess Spencer, and Queen Juliana should have had a Hair Off where the winner takes all.” - Submitted by Anonymous

[justdonotaskmewhy]

princess diana and princess margaret shopping together

ultimate in-laws goals🤙🏻

[liroyalty]

I remember I had this up on my archived blog, & it's time to repost it here.

[terrence-silver]

Omg I saw, "20. trying to buy the moon for their S/O because everything else wouldn’t be enough.", and I just KNOW this is literally what Terry would do. My heart lol

---

-"Mr. Silver, I assure you, it is not legally enforceable to..."- He interrupts her, slurping his tea. Loudly. Obnoxiously so, maintaining eye contact with her, one finger raised as he sipped from his ceramic cup. Petulant. Challenging her.

Margaret shakes her head. This was quite a difficult morning.

More difficult than most other mornings tended to be, surely.

-"Don't yank my chain! With enough cash, everything is legally enforceable! And I've plenty of that! C'mon!"- Because there he was, in the bathtub, yelling, twirling his fingers at her, setting down the Fine China with a clink and trying to convince her, that this was in fact, yes, doable. A notion that could be logically and plausibly conceived of. An idea quite honestly more ludicrous than when he wanted to commission Whitney Houston to sing a pro-environmental jingle for a Dynatox fundraiser commercial back in 1981. This was, perhaps, slightly more ludicrous, that was a given. And she has heard her share of dastardly propositions while in this here employ. -"But, sir,"- Margaret utilizes patience, and tries. Oh, does she try hard to explain, as diplomatically and as professional as she possibly can without snapping and shooting back with a countering, curt: 'Listen here, you little Twat!’ no matter how much Terry Silver would've been amused by that. She has been trying to talk him out of this for the better half of the past two hours now. -"This is the moon we're talking about, all due respect."-

The moon.

The moon itself.

-"So!?"- With a pursed, irritated look, he tilts his head, taking a drag out of his cigar.

-"If the Emir of Qatar or wherever the fuck could buy himself a whole star..."- He rambles, sounding borderline angry and envious as he crushes the tobacco in a nearby crystal ashtray and Margaret raises an eyebrow. Terry Silver, really quite honestly, was a bit of an overgrown child. Resentful that someone did a thing and he didn't. -"The Emir of Qatar, sir, if I may correct, only bought the formal and strictly honorary right to name the star. He doesn't actually own it. And that was only due to his generous donation to the space program that made the discovery."- She articulates, slowly, and while the act of utilizing money to impart a name upon a heavenly body was already an eccentricity all by itself, someone owning the moon that orbits the Earth could've been an elaborate joke if Margaret Spencer didn't know Mr. Silver absolutely wasn't joking. No. He meant it. He really meant things like this. -"Bullshit! Sounds like a personal problem!"- He snorts, throwing his head back, unimpressed. -"Like someone didn't think big enough."-

Oh, big enough, Margaret ponders.

When is big big enough even?

Big enough, as in, half of the solar system? A Billionaire space race?

-"Language.”- She chides, like a mother chides a son spewing obscenities. -”And, sir, if I may,"- Letting her voice grow firmer, hiding exasperation as she pushes her spectacles up. -"While I do not pertain to get involved in the personal, I will still take the liberty to conclude this is on the basis of intimate attachments,"- Shoulders straight, she goes for it. Terry Silver wanted to buy you the moon ever since you came into his life. In fact, one of the many things on his elaborate to-do list of the things he should get you were sport cars, mansions, private islands, yachts and now, a satellite. Her job, among others, as his personal assistant and secretary was to make sure all these plans became reality. To a reasonable extent. Had to draw the line here. That's why she was so close to Terry Silver. Because she could call him out on things few of his employees would dare to. Never in a million years did she believe she would be giving amorous advices to a lovestruck man richer than Onassis. -"I am quite certain they don't really need the actual moon to be happy."- Margaret Spencer allows herself a moment of heartfelt sincerity and Terry looks at her from the tub, really looks at her, as if pondering those words, fingers playing with the residue ash in the tray. Like the idea of someone not needing the moon to be happy was, well, downright incomprehensible. Margaret gives him a moment. Terry Silver always needed a moment to process things. She was just as equally ready to suggest a choice of restaurants he can, instead of colonizing planets, arrange a date on. Far more achievable and withing Margaret Spencer's paygrade. Even though her paygrade was sinfully substantial enough to justify just about anything.

Tracing his lower lip with his thumb, Mr. Silver murmurs, to himself, seemingly.

-"Not need the moon, huh?"- Sounds like he was measuring that thought. Only to speak up again, with more tenacity. Oh, no. Goodness gracious. -"Right! Screw the moon! How about..."- His eyes light up in mirth, wheels working overtime in his mind and he nearly splashes the foam out of his tub as he jolts. -"A priceless moonstone!? One of those bullshit things that can be placed, into, I don't know, a crown!"-

A crown?

He seems so pleased with that one. She sighs, adhering to it, supposing his next idea could've bene even more explosive, making a note of it in her schedule book. Penning down their people at Cartier as one of the go-to's as he smiled at her, wide, toothy like the Cheshire cat that got the last of the cream. Margaret concluded d that was more achievable of a goal than something lightyears away in the space's atmosphere. And rare meteorites of all varieties weren't that impossible to come by. Negotiations concluded.

Mr. Silver was complicated when he was in love.

Not that she's ever seen him this taken.

He never did want to buy anyone the moon but you.

[puella-peanut]

A Consummate Professional

Written for the @allvalley100 Word Drabble Challenge. This time it was “Snake Oil.” 100 words as counted by A03 Drafts. Second fill.

…

He’d always had a fondness for snakes, Margaret recalls, watching Mr. Silver carefully examine a glass bottle of imported snake oil.

A fondness that began in childhood, when he would toddle about with his stuffed-animal, ‘Mwister Snakey'. Not even parting from it come nighttime, all while demanding a bedtime-story and crème brûlée for breakfast next morning. 

"It'll come in handy tonight," Mr. Silver says, interrupting memories. 

"Sir?"

His smile sharpens—missing only fangs, Margaret thinks. "When Mr. LaRusso stays for dinner.”

And the rest of the night. Morning as well. “Of course, Sir."

“I knew you’d remember!”

”Indeed, Sir.”

Indeed. 

[utterlyvapid]

The Anne Boleyn, Princess Diana and maybe also the Empress Elisabeth “Sisi” markets are oversaturated. I’m suggesting new royal idols for a minimum of 2-3 years.

[alvxprodz]

Shadows coming to the light. - MULTICROSSOVER

[things-keeping-me-up-at-night]

I think it‘s so funny how monarchists and anti-monarchists are both constantly hating on The Crown yet everyone seems to be watching it.

(I‘m decidedly not a monarchist and agree there are some issues that could and maybe should be portrayed more concerning the British royal family, but I do like the show.

I think it does a good job at showing how these are really just human beings and how the system they‘re in is doing neither them nor the many millions of people affected by it any favours. I especially like the time frame of it - it shows the good and very bad things the people involved do and how their actions affect each other, making them into the people they are. That‘s something you don‘t get to see in real time a lot, especially seeing as it spans generations of people handing down destructive behaviour.

It‘s also visually stunning, and while I get that people find it glamorises monarchy in a way, I think from most people‘s perspectives it just goes to show how ridiculous it is that these (again, otherwise regular) people are put on a pedestal and just naturally handed that lifestyle including its pomp, its rituals and over the top rules.

Maybe I‘m very forgiving on the show, but I think for the controversial topic of it, it does a good job at staying relatively neutral (which is proven by the very different readings of the show from people with different stances on the monarchy in general). It also helps that the craft of it and cast are just incredible and it‘s very entertaining for the most part.

Sure, there are definitely things the royals have been involved in the show could have taken a part in discussing more, some topics I have to admit I‘m not informed enough on to comment on them. The show also could have been harder on Charles, which makes it even more ridiculous that the royal family is apparently protesting it - this is the most empathetic portrayal of the real things he‘s done anyone could do, there is no way of being nicer about it without being untruthful.

I also just have a soft spot for the fictionalised version of Princess Margaret in all seasons, I‘ll have to admit.

Anyway, British politics and the monarchy are not topics I want to get into, mainly because there are people out there who have much more right to have an opinion on these things than I do.

I absolutely understand if people who are from a country or culture that has been victim to colonisation have no interest in watching something that portrays the enablers and profiteers of the ongoing effects of colonisation in an empathetic way.

But if you just want to watch a decades-spanning questionably realistic drama with incredible set and costume design and some very talented British actors as well as a great score, this show does the job.

I do think season 5 of The Crown was definitely the weakest, mainly because it focused too much on Charles‘ and Diana‘s divorce and little else and because it was very oddly paced, but it had its moments as well. (More specifically when I bawled my eyes out at Margaret‘s and Peter‘s reunion in „Annus Horribilis“.) I really wonder about at what point in time the series is going to end since there is only one season left and there are still a lot of events left for the series to cover.

Still, I think people‘s expectations on all sides are always a little too high as soon as it comes to portraying the British royals. I get that it‘s a sensitive topic, but I can‘t think of a more balanced way to portray them (or a more opinionated way of portraying them and getting away with it).)

Anyway, these are just my two cents on the whole thing.

As for the current royal family discussion, I fully support Queen Amelia Mignonette Thermopolis Renaldi of Genovia and that‘s that.