justin and erin

anonymous asked:

who attended beside Jeff, tommy, glenne, xander, James Corden and his family, Cameron Crowe, Jeff Bhasker, The azoffs, Ben Winston, Christopher nolan?

I made you a list! Let me know if i missed anyone:

Cal, cal’s wife, glenne, tommy, jeff, xander, justin huchel, charles porch, erin foster, sara foster, jennifer meyer, ben, james, james’ wife and kids, irving, shelli, cam, harry lambert, his band, lou teasdale, bella howard, chris nolan, cam crowe, stevie knicks, jeff bhasker, lykke li, presley, rande and kaia gerber, cindy crawford, jack and mitch rose, mike navarra, jasmine tookes, meghan trainor and her mom,

fanfiction.net
Nothing Ventured Chapter 1, a star wars fanfic | FanFiction

Attention please!

This is a wonderful story that @erindarroch and @jhgraham published this morning. It has all sorts of scary authors’ notes up top, but I loved it and think it’s just the most gorgeous bit of Han Solo internal conflict. I don’t know if my personal stamp of approval means anything - it probably SHOULDN’T and I hope I don’t do the opposite of what I’m trying to do by rec’ing it this hard. But this is wonderful character work. It’s worth your time. 

Heed the warnings, of course, but trust them.  

9

Some of the costumes from The 2017 Fall Fashion Gala (Part 2)

1. Meagan Mann and Likolani Brown in Jonathan Saunders of DVF design for Troy Schumacher’s “The Wind Still Brings”
2. Ashley Hod in Jonathan Saunders of DVF design for Troy Schumacher’s “The Wind Still Brings”
3. Meagan Mann in Jonathan Saunders of DVF design for Troy Schumacher’s “The Wind Still Brings”
4. Mimi Staker in Jonathan Saunders of DVF design for Troy Schumacher’s “The Wind Still Brings”
5. Tiler Peck in Tsumori Chisato design for Justin Peck’s “Pulcinella Variations”
6. Silas Farley in Jonathan Saunders of DVF design for Troy Schumacher’s “The Wind Still Brings”
7. Sara Adams in Fernando Garcia and Laura Kim of Monse and Oscar de la Renta design for Lauren Lovette’s “Not Our Fate”
8. Jacqueline Bologna in Virgil Abloh of Off-White design for Gianna Reisen’s “Composer’s Holiday”
9. Laine Habony in Fernando Garcia and Laura Kim of Monse and Oscar de la Renta design for Lauren Lovette’s “Not Our Fate”

Fun and Games

by Justine Graham and Erin Darroch 

-:¦:-:¦:-:¦:-

“Han,” Leia tugged on his arm. “Look at this.”

Han followed the direction of her gaze and then shook his head, giving her a wry smile. “That’s a rigged game, Sweetheart. Stand here and watch ‘em for a while; you’ll see they change the setup for each species. It’s a racket.”

“No, I mean look at the prizes.” Clutching the neck of her plush TaunTaun in one hand—a trophy Han had won and gallantly presented to her at the last booth they’d visited—she gestured with the other hand at the items dangling around the frame of the stall, then looked back at Han just in time to see horrified realization dawning in his eyes.

“What the hell….” Han murmured, moving past her towards the small booth. “What the—Hey, pal,” he called to the stall’s operator, a burly humanoid woman with piercing yellow eyes and a nest of orange curls framing her broad face. “Who’re these supposed to be?”

The woman gave him a look of incredulity as she heaved her thickset frame off her stool and moved along the front of the stall in their direction. “You been livin’ on some backwater planet for the last few years?” she challenged. “Who do ya think?” She lifted one of the prizes and waggling it at him. It was a soft doll, a little more than a handspan tall, rather simply made of printed fabric that had been stitched into the shape of a Wookiee and filled with plush stuffing. The print on the fabric was crudely drawn and the face appeared a bit cartoonish, but it was still easily recognizable as a depiction of a Kashyyyk native, complete with a stitched-in bandolier draped diagonally across its chest. “This one’s the mighty Chewbacca, of course. And this here is the Princess,” she tapped one of the dangling toys and set it swinging. Judging by the style of white dress and the elaborate hairstyle depicted on the fabric of the swaying doll, Leia realized it must have been modeled on the holo images of herself that had been broadcast around the galaxy just after the destruction of the first Death Star, when she’d presided over the awards ceremony that had followed their victory.

“These,” the woman clarified, gesturing around at the dangling prize dolls, “are the heroes of the Battle of Yavin.”

Leia covered her face with one hand and peeked at Han through her fingers, feeling simultaneously giddy with amusement and utterly mortified. Han cast her a look that showed his own emotions were similarly at war. His mobile face seemed to struggle between expressions, finally settling on a sort of horrified amazement.

“This here’s the Jedi Master, Luke Skywalker,” the woman continued, setting the Chewie doll to one side and then lifting a blond-haired doll whose printed attire featured brown trousers and a buttery yellow flight jacket. “He’s the one that blew up the Death Star,” she informed them, in a tone that said these were well-known facts that every simpleton and schoolchild must already know. “The first one, I mean,” she amended, staring down at the doll for a lingering moment.

“He ain’t a Master yet,” Han muttered, though the woman didn’t appear to hear him.

She cradled the Luke doll in one palm, and fondly poked its soft belly with her forefinger. “He’s a cutie, that one. And he practically saved the whole galaxy with that one shot, don'tcha know.”

“He had a little help, don'tcha know,” Han retorted, looking mildly indignant.

“Yeah, yeah, this guy,” the stall runner poked another of the dangling prizes with her finger and set it swinging alongside the swaying Leia doll. The toy depicted a brown-haired human male garbed in a white shirt and black vest, with blue trousers featuring an approximation of the Corellian bloodstripe along each of the printed seams. “He’s called Han Solo.”

Leia glanced at Han’s face and had to hold her breath and press her lips together so she wouldn’t burst out laughing. He wore that mulish expression, the belligerent one he got when he was gearing up to argue with someone.

“Yeah?” Han prompted. “So what did he do?”

The woman shrugged. “Ain’t ever been too clear on that one,” she admitted. “But the Princess gave him a medal so I guess he did somethin’ important. And now I hear they’re gettin’ married.”

Leia’s eyes flew wide and she choked as Han’s head swivelled in her direction. She tried to draw a breath but found herself spluttering with laughter that could no longer be contained.

“Is that so?” Han queried in a tone of bemusement, cocking a quizzical eyebrow at the princess.

Leia gave him a helpless shrug, shaking her head and trying—unsuccessfully—to stifle her laughter.

“Yeah, that’s what they say,” the woman responded, a dreamy expression crossing her blunt features. She seemed completely oblivious to the byplay between Han and Leia, and it was clear she hadn’t recognized them. Leia supposed that the holo images upon which the dolls’ designs had been based had been taken more than four years ago, and they’d all changed a bit since then. Furthermore, she and Han were dressed in casual clothes completely unlike the garb depicted on the dolls, and Leia’s hair was gathered in a messy knot at the nape of her neck instead of arranged in an elegant braided crown atop her head. Evidently, those differences were enough to obscure any physical similarities between themselves and the 'Heroes of the Rebellion’.

“I’m hopin’ they’ll show the wedding on the Holonet,” the woman was saying, still smiling a little pensively. “It’s about time we had somethin’ nice to think about and look forward to, after all the troubles.”

Han’s expression softened. “Yeah,” he agreed, angling his head back in Leia’s direction and giving her a speculative look. “It’s about time.”

Still smiling, Leia returned his direct gaze, but she felt her heart skip and flutter as they stared at one another. The way he was focused on her now, she knew exactly what he was thinking. They hadn’t actually discussed a formal marriage yet—not in so many words—but it certainly felt to Leia like an inevitable conclusion, one they were moving steadily towards. His changeable eyes seemed to darken with intent as he looked at her, making her feel as if the two of them were standing on the cusp of something monumental.

“Smart guy, hooking up with such a brave, beautiful princess, don'tcha think?” Han addressed his comments to the stall keeper, but his eyes remained fixed on Leia’s face.

“Smart? Maybe… But lucky, too,” the woman opined.

“Yeah, you’re not wrong about that one, pal,” he murmured, his voice so low it was likely only Leia could hear him.

Reaching for Leia, he drew her close and lowered his head to hers. Heedless of the woman’s presence, not even caring if the whole of Hanna City were watching them, Leia stretched up to meet his offered kiss. His lips were warm and soft against hers, and his free hand came up to cradle her face with a touch so tender it made her racing heart pound even faster. When their lips parted, Han slipped his hand down the length of her arm and entwined his fingers with hers. She smiled up at him in unabashed adoration as she squeezed his hand and he squeezed back.

The sound of a throat being pointedly cleared drew their attention back to the stall keeper. While they’d been distracted, the woman had pulled one of the Han dolls down and set it side-by-side with one of the Leia dolls atop the counter that separated the players from the interior of the stand. “Tell ya what, Loverboy, you win, and you can have the pair. Two for the price of one. They oughta go together anyway, I reckon.”

“You're on, lady,” Han released Leia and turned to face the woman more fully. Stuffing a hand into his front pocket, he then withdrew a handful of credit chips in small denominations and slapped them down on the counter. “In fact, tell me what I’ve gotta do to win 'em all.”

-:¦:-:¦:-:¦:-

https://www.fanfiction.net/u/7449328/justinegraham

Petition for @erindarroch and @jhgraham to write us HL first time romantic smut because no one writes perfectly romantic, meaningful “smut” like they do and I feel that I’ve been deprived of it for far too long and their other trip to Bespin work is so good I cry all the tears and really please I beg @ Erin @ Justine @@@@@@@ 😳

Golden

Okay, So I had started writing this, but then @halsteadandlindsay backed up my idea. If you listen to Golden then hopefully you’ll end up with the same feels. I really do hope ya’ll enjoy this little drabble!


Golden 

Cases like this, like the ones they’d faced today, always hit Jay hard. Erin had noticed from the first case involving kids they’d caught after he joined the unit that he always seemed to connect and take them hard. He wasn’t one to show how much they’d affected him, not really, but he’d had subtle tells and Erin had picked up on most – if not all of them. Today had been particularly tough; three tender-age victims, arson and two extremely uncooperative suspects had Voight sending the Unit home in spells for a couple of hours R&R to keep them fresh enough to find something to nail the guys.

Adam and Kevin had headed out first, bringing back pizza and coffee for those staying when they had returned, Erin had been content to let any of the others go before she and Jay, and the fact Jay didn’t move when Voight had said next two only showed that he wanted to keep at it. It was the pointed look from Voight that had Erin all but gathering Jay’s things for him, around him as he continued to sort through paper work. She had stood beside his desk while he actively ignored her as he read and reread the files right until the moment she put her hand on his shoulder and whispered his name before he stopped and begrudgingly got to his feet, sulking down the hallway to the 300. Antonio had sent her a sad smile and she’d nodded, walking quickly to catch up with him.

He’d wordlessly stood beside the car until she got there, climbing in and belting up before she’d even crossed the garage. Erin always enjoyed the silence, especially when she was with Jay – she’d always felt safe with him, if they were speaking or just sitting there in the silence, she knew he had her back just like she knew the colour of her eyes and the fact that it was 42 steps from her front door to her bed if she included her nightly routine.  Tonight, however, the silence was heavy and filled with something and Erin couldn’t really put her finger on what it was.

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