Even in my twenties, I was being asked to play these really worldly 30-year-old women. So as a young actress I was given sophisticated, complicated and wise roles, and I have no idea why on earth people saw me as this elegant seductress. I’m not at all like that really. Maybe it was the cheekbones or something.
Rules: In a text post, list ten books that have stayed with you in some way. Don’t take but a few minutes, and don’t think too hard — they don’t have to be the “right” or “great” works, just the ones that have touched you. Tag as many friends you desire, including me, so I’ll see your list. Make sure you let your friends know you’ve tagged them.
Never Let Me Go, Kazuo Ishiguro
On Beauty, Zadie Smith
The House of Mirth, Edith Wharton
Harry Potter series, JK Rowling
The Hours, Michael Cunningham
The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath
If on a Winter’s Night a Traveler, Italo Calvino
The Lesson, Eugène Ionesco
The Girl Who Fell Beneath Fairyland and Led the Revels There, Catherynne M. Valente
The condition of one who is only amorous when the lights are out.
Blanche thinks Agnes could quite possibly be mad. There are two sides to everyone, she'll begrudgingly admit, and one usually does not like the other. There is one Agnes who is still very much spoiled and very much naive. She is the woman whose pushed away a cheating husband and a dead sister as if none of it happened at all.
They argue. Nothing big or grand or so infuriating that Blanche is left seething for the rest of the day no, but little things. This morning it starts when she kisses her on the cheek at breakfast.
Agnes stops her. “No don’t.” she says quietly. “I’m…not feeling well. A cold.”
She doesn’t so much as sniffle at breakfast and Blanche sits across from her and says nothing. They go their separate ways. Agnes has made plenty of new friends at her job and is always walking home amongst a group of other ladies who find something to giggle at even in these times.
Tonight they make it home at the same time. Blanche sees her coming up the road. She waits. They’re two houses away when Agnes sees her and her eyes go wide. Who’s That? someone asks. My husband’s aunt Agnes responds shyly, smiling at her and marching up the steps. She makes quite a show of waving goodbye to each and every one of them as they return home before she does an about face to stare at Blanche.
“Hello. Good day?”
“As good as one can make of it.”
Dinner is silent. Something is wrong. She’s too busy until to process it, but as Blanche gets ready for bed she thinks. Agnes is mad at her. For what? For any number of things. Agnes in the daytime is a mysterious creature.
There is no soft lamplight in the evening anymore. Blanche sleeps in pitch black in a room full of black out curtains and it’s just about midnight (it feels) when she hears the door open and a body slide into bed with her.
And they’re quite handsy. “I’m sorry…” comes a delicate whisper, almost shy. “I am not very good at this, am I?”
“No, you’re not.” Blanche rolls around to feel warm breath on her face as they share a pillow. “But who is to blame you? You’ll learn.”
“Maybe I will. Will you teach me?”
“To what? Be a homosexual?”
“To love people like they deserve to be.”
“Oh Agnes, no one can teach you that.” Blanche kisses her nose. “But I suppose I can try."
You can't just mention a Cal/Sophie backstory headcannon and not share it! I need something to distract myself with, out with it! (please?)
Oh, it was way back when I got Brittany into Lie to Me, and before Sophie even mentioned micro-expressions on the show (and before photosets existed)! We laid out a bunch of drabble ideas over Skype.
It played on the idea of Cal and Terry Marsh’s mutual friend “Sally Robinson” when they toasted her, because it was revealed that Cal and Terry were essentially running cons when they were young and Terry took the blame. Honestly, I can’t remember much of it, we did lay out a timeline by year just to get their ages and respective canons in order. It spiraled into a lot of things, but essentially Cal and Sophie were childhood friends, who picked up the basics of micro-expressions through each other. And then in the San Lorenzo Job where Sophie’s alias had to fake her death and it was on the news, I thought it would neat to have Cal see her on the news. And then in the Double Blind where Tricia Helfer played a grifter and there was an art theft involved, we had her associated with Sophie and Tara.
I know I’m missing a lot more but alas it will remain as another fic in my head.