#cate blanchett Tumblr posts

  • monsieurbruhl
    23.10.2021 - 59 minutes ago
    Christoph Waltz photographed by Peter Lindbergh for IWC Schaffhausen : A Sparkle to the Wrist - Portofino Midsize Collection, 2014.
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  • waterlooedits
    22.10.2021 - 4 hours ago

    don't repost as your own

    #actresses icons#cate blanchett #cate blanchett icons #icons cate blanchett #icons#with psd
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  • misstwist
    22.10.2021 - 7 hours ago

    Her majesty's a pretty nice girl

    But she doesn't have a lot to say

    Her majesty's a pretty nice girl

    But she changes from day to day

    I wanna tell her that I love her a lot

    But I gotta get a bellyful of wine

    Her majesty's a pretty nice girl

    Someday I'm going to make her mine, oh, yeah

    Someday I'm going to make her mine

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  • catherine-08
    22.10.2021 - 9 hours ago

    73 Questions With Adele

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  • hitchell-mope
    22.10.2021 - 14 hours ago

    Once more I can see by Belle

    Belle: Long ago and oh so far away

    There were dreams that I recall

    Full of unicorns who loved to play

    Behind my garden walls

    And the clouds would look like dragons tails

    As they moved across the sky

    And a tree could be the prince of whales

    And little girls could fly

    (She turns to Persephone)

    I remember every moment

    How it was to just be me

    And to my surprise

    I look through their eyes

    And once more I can see

    (She turns back to the statues)

    I remember living in between

    What was real and what was not

    'Neath a sky of blue and a field of green

    I long ago forgot

    I remember rabbits running late

    Underneath my mothers fence

    (She grips Chip’s shoulders)

    And a singing cup and a talking plate

    Who somehow both made sense

    I remember every moment

    I remember being free

    And to my surprise

    (She turns to Mrs Potts)

    I look through your eyes

    And I remember me

    (She approach Lumiere)

    For somewhere deep inside me

    There's a girl from way back when

    (She bumps foreheads with Cogsworth)

    She just needs your heart to guide me

    And make her see again

    (She walks away from the statues, never once looking away from them)

    I remember every moment

    When my heart was young and free

    And to my surprise

    I look through your eyes

    (She turns to Persephone)

    And once more I can see

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  • lamorchemoveilsoleelaltrestelle
    22.10.2021 - 16 hours ago

    Geoffrey Rush and Cate Blanchett in Elizabeth: The Golden Age (2007)

    #geoffrey rush#cate blanchett #elizabeth: the golden age #movies#period drama#period movies#film stills #costume design: Alexandra Byrne
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  • wolfelm1258
    22.10.2021 - 17 hours ago

    The Curtain Call

    Cate Blanchett x OC

    Chapter II

    The evening grows dark and in the campus atelier, a piano piece rings loud. Wounding its way through the halls, soaring through the high ceilings, out through the tall windows. It hovers over the deserted studio.

    With a final glance, Adaline retreats back to her lair with a brisk walk down the dimly lit pathway. A windstorm raging in the evening, catching in her blazer through the vacant buildings, only to find herself flustered, nursing down her second glass of bourbon twenty minutes later.

    She is exhausted, increasingly strained these days, -weeks, months even- and the results lay sickeningly before her. The hardwood floor is strewn with bits of paper, bits of wood, - bits of disappointment, bits of humiliation – and even worse, a punctured canvas in the middle of it all, set on top of an easel.

    One misplaced brushstroke after the other, all the colours in a foul mood, irking her further until it was an erratic fist-sized hole that is now hauntingly decorating the whole frame.

    A moment of weakness, as she justifies it to herself grimly.

    As if it is to be blamed for the overwhelming sense of despair, mindlessly staring back at her.

    “Well, that's that,” Adaline whispers to the empty room.

    A single station lamp comes on with a surge of garnish, incriminating light over the workbench when she finally pries herself off of the floor some minutes later, shaking herself out of her morose thoughts with a hammer in her bruised hand.

    It stumps over the wood.

    Starting anew. Humming, - the sound of a nail pounds through a frame - humming to the melody,- its echoes vastly out of sync with the long and sustained rhythm across the long halls - humming to the flowing line of quarter notes, raising and lowering like ocean waves, wallowing in the sweet melancholy of it.

    “Excuse me,”

    It startles her. Would have frightened her out of her foul mood even if she wasn’t expecting to be alone with a voice that is crisp and low and awake, deeper than she is used to hearing in her students.

    Nearly choking on her own tongue, Adaline looks up from her workbench.

    The woman stands before her, looking tall, and stately… She is absolutely breathtaking. Slender but not petite; dotted in a tailored black blouse, unbuttoned at the top to reveal glimmering jewellery winking behind the lazy scarf around her neck and a thigh-lengthened, burgundy-coloured wool coat. Her short blonde hair is a little wet, curling on the edges from the rain, a rain that is soundless as a burglar that had begun unbeknownst to Adaline.

    Beautiful is a harsh understatement, and Adaline can’t stop staring.

    The woman looks down keenly, watching her, one corner of her mouth tilts in amusement. The notes of the piano continue to ring powerful and elegant and refined; like the woman with the pale blue eyes never leaving Adaline's.

    “I'm sorry for frightening you,” She offers, looking apologetic. “I hope you don't mind me barging in here, and at this hour of all things… I just wanted to take a quick look around.” Her accent had a delightful lilt.

    Then, her brows draw together, the silence between them growing by the second.

    As if in a rush, the woman breathes in softly.

    “Please,” She begins. “Do you?”

    A moment passes before Adaline takes her hand. She moves when the woman moves, extending a slender hand to help her fully stand.

    They match in height as the music swims over them.

    “Erik Satie,” The woman provides, hands lose, resting in each other. Cold, Adaline muses, unlike her own flushed one -, and smiles faintly, schooling her awe before straightening her spine.

    “Have you come here to tell me to tone it down?”

    She sees her smile, too, brief, though a private pinpoint in this large, lonely atelier they stand, and the woman tilts her head towards the loud-speakers, somewhere above the wooden-high ceilings.

    “It certainly drew my attention. Don't worry, I'm charmed, more than anything else.” She looks down at their joined hands for a moment, her fingers briefly soothing the tender skin on the back of Adaline’s hand.

    “I'm Cate.” The woman – Cate- offers, her voice a glimpse of another world.

    Adaline shakes the cobwebs clear out of her head. “Adaline,”

    “Adaline,” Cate quotes languidly, drawing out the syllables of her name in a long slow breath. Then, in light of recognition, her eyes swell. “Wegner?”

    Her smile shows her teeth this time around, broad and pearlescent like her pale eyes when they meet with Adaline's slacking jaw.


    “It was on the board at the entrance, Professor.” She adds meekly as an afterthought, motioning the wall with the sign. “Adaline Wegner...” Weighting the name on her tongue once again, she resumes. “It's lovely.”

    “Thank you,” Adaline draws her hand back with a quiet chuckle, the touch leaving a pleasurable tingling sensation behind. “And, Adaline will do just fine, please.”

    "Adaline it is." Cate flings, earnest.

    Her eyes flicker, subtly, to the wounded canvas after a brief pause.

    And, Adaline goes stock still. Eyes widening, like a thief caught in the act. The woman looks at what seems to breathe with an intimacy that is not hers to witness.

    Well, that’s just great.

    “Is that an artistic expression I haven’t had a chance to hear about?” She is quick to ask, mouth morphing into a careful smile.

    All it takes is a glance towards the canvas for the small surge of euphoria to recede from Adaline's chest and the tingling in her hand settles on the fragile side.

    A reminder.

    Instead, with her heart in her throat and eyes on fire, she gives an assuring bow to the woman, eyes drifting towards the easel once again, landing on the canvas, holding.

    “Definitely.” She dips her hands in her pants pockets, fondling a pack of cigarettes before shifting on her feet, apathetic, or so she hopes to think. “How do you feel about it? I call it 'Despair'.”

    A short laugh. Vague, slightly troubled.

    “Fitting...” There is no mistaking the light teasing of Cate's tone, or the way she surreptitiously glances towards painting herself.

    She studies Adaline’s profile. Long, brunette hair in a mess; there are dark circles under her eyes. Her green eyes red, cheeks hallow. She looks exhausted and pale, and small, -and they all disappear in a moments notice under a mass of civility.

    When Cate mutters again, it is rough and low and private, only for them to hear. “And, you are alright?”

    The wrinkles around her eyes sharpen with a furrow as the rain ticks at the wide windows of the atelier. Harder now, more urgent, tapping loudly with the melody.

    Adaline, who seemed to be in trance, blinks a moment later, takes a breath and forces her eyes away from what she created.

    Or demolished...

    She startles once again, by the sheer command in the woman's stare. The furrow on her brows that she wasn't aware was there loosens, her face relaxes when the blonde tilts her head. Her hair lolling on the sides of her face.

    “Yes,” Adaline swallows before smiling. “Of course.”

    Cate's eyes become even more focused, somehow.

    For one long, stunned moment, they stare at each other. Adaline watches as something flickers in the blonde’s eyes, something frail and hesitant.

    The silence stretches on what feels like minutes.

    Then, something quiet, like her. Something kind, and tender and yes, Adaline is sure of it, she smiles. Just the tiniest hint of it, when Cate nods away.

    “Okay then. Well? What’s the verdict?” Eyes hardening, she moistens her lips. “Will you allow me to take a quick look around?”

    Adaline finds herself laughing. Equal parts of relief, and dread. “Are you sure you have time?”

    “Only a little, I arrived early to clear my head. Do you?” Cate speaks briskly.

    “Yes, if you wish.”

    Wrenching herself away from the woman with a sharp spin, Adaline hurries back towards the darkened hall with the unfinished paintings.

    “I’m afraid most of them are still not finished,” She begins.

    “That is not a problem,” Cate hastens to assure her, her hard-soled, calf-height riding boots clicking on the immaculate hardwood floor. “It’s my fault for dropping by without an invite after all.”

    Then, the station lights blur brightly.

    The lengthy building lays out before them. Adaline watches as she halts her steps to glance up at the ceilings, the exhibited ductwork and the intricate grid of lights hanging above the works of the students in an array.

    “Shall we?” Snapping out of her daze, Adaline clears her throat and asks, striding towards the hallway. “I believe your time is limited.”

    Cate nods with a soft smile, looking pleased with what she is observing. “Yes, let's.”

    The piano notes hang in the air, fading out before the second movement begins.

    She walks with her head held high, her gait elegant, and Adaline finds herself perplexed by the rich perfume that emits from the woman, - warm and sensual, like nothing she has smelled before – she notes, trying to match her own self-conscious pace to the blondes like an awestruck puppy through the array of easels.

    Cate doesn't linger anywhere too long, nor demands any explanations. Perhaps conscious of the insufficient time she has in her hands, or simply the tactlessness of their greeting is ultimately catching up with her as an uneasiness seem to heed her each poised step.

    Or, Adaline muses, it is simply my vivid imagination, dipping and soaring in all sorts of wrong directions.

    Her footsteps are loud across the hallway, - and the brunette tilts her head in question, - How did I not hear her enter? - watching the tall physique inch its way towards the narrow stairway, one after the other, her hand grazing the thick fabric of her coat, and hesitate briefly before reaching out to touch a painting with her long fingers, looking quizzical, only to reemerge, already strutting for the next easel awaiting ahead for her.

    “Will I see your signature on any of these?”

    The question appears quietly out of nowhere, -coyly, subtly- but with more interest than she leads on and it catches the brunette off-guard. She holds still, Cate doesn't.

    The regal eyebrows lift in interest, watching her, and appalled, Adaline realizes that she is gawking at the woman.

    “You mean a hole in the middle of them?” She laughs somberly, looking around. “No, these are part of the upcoming exhibit. My students,” And drawls without a thought.

    “And, have you got nothing in this building to show?”

    Adaline nearly jumps, heart lurching in her chest to turn and find her standing not four feet away.

    Sneaky like a mouse, when she wishes to be.

    Unbidden, the thought flings into the brunettes head that she doesn't want her to see, to witness something that isn't there anymore, no more a part of her, she has seen more than sufficient as it is-

    Adaline's silence already telling for the blonde, she indulges. “Would you let me see?” Blue eyes seem to bore right into her. Half kind, half intimidating, and entirely overwhelming.

    Adaline hesitates, a panic lancing through her. “Well, I-” She looks down at her hands and scratches anxiously at her palms before resuming, restless. “Old work - very old work, certainly nothing to brag home about-”

    “I would like to see.” The blonde interjects with her own follow-up, calm and confident.

    Adaline grapples for words to say, but just as she opens her mouth to say no, persistently this time around, - there is nothing to see anymore - she meets the woman's stilled eyes. The Cate looking at her seems completely different, somehow. Smaller. An expression on her face that is intense, as rigid as her whole body is, as if waiting to hear a no, a kind of weariness under her beauty, in her naked vulnerability, fear and hope, and it is all beyond Adaline's control when she recognizes it; has seen it in the mirrors every morning, and every night-

    She fails. The brunette takes a step back after a brief pause.

    “Okay... Upstairs, for a painting and a quick cup of tea before you head out.” Too bereft to linger, she remarks softly, mouth dry, watching something flicker in the woman's eyes. “I feel like we both need it.”


    Adaline stares at her back as the blonde takes her surroundings in wonder. Her eyes darting through the dark carpets spluttered over the hardwood floors, and a large, brown leather couch in the middle of it all, looking warm and welcoming besides the bookshelves lined on all three walls. Forth one devoted to paintings and photographs, all from a hodgepodge of work, a clutter, in every sense of the word.

    “Do you take milk?” She asks the blonde, softly, startling her. She can't restrain the delighted lift on her brows or the humorous tilt on her mouth when Cate shoves a hand onto her chest, her breath stuttering for a moment.

    “Are any of these yours? Do you also dabble in photography?” Ignoring Adaline's question completely, the woman beckons the wall. She seems genuinely interested, so Adaline tilts her head and chuckles.

    “No – no, I couldn't possibly stand to look at my own work all day long. Can you imagine? These photos belong to a friend of mine – a colleague. We've had collaborations in the past.” She beckons the couch with her hand, before heading towards the mahogany desk on the other side of the office. “Please, take a seat. Milk?”

    She hears a soft huff from the couch, the leather stretching with the weight of the woman. Cate speaks a moment later.

    “Perhaps you have something stronger?”

    Adaline turns around to look as the woman puts her scarf on the arm of the couch. She is watching her. There is a small smirk on her lips, so alluring that it stutters the breath in Adaline’s lungs.

    A payback?

    “And let you attend the class intoxicated? Do you know how many people are waiting for you in that auditorium? I can’t have that on my conscious, or the blame-“ She begins.

    “A glass certainly won’t make me slur, Adaline,” Cate interjects brightly, definitively, with a brilliant laugh. “And I believe I’m owed at least one painting?” Her eyes flit up and down, waiting for yet another verdict from the other woman.

    “Okay,” Adaline puts a few choice bottles on the table with a thud, feeling light-headed, and perhaps, a little giddy. “I won’t tell if you don’t-“

    “I won’t.” The blonde quips.

    Adaline chuckles, looking delighted. “What would you like? Bourbon? Wine? I would love to offer you something nicer though it looks like my cabinet has been raided by my assistants last night.” The liquid in them swirls with the impact.

    “I believe it’s the bourbon I smell on you?”

    The brunette blinks. Cate grins.

    “Bourbon it is…”

    She is faintly aware of the other woman moving gingerly towards the desk, towards her, as she pours the bottle over two glasses. A light, slender hand on her shoulder snaps Adaline out of whatever fugue had seized her for a moment, watching the liquid settle in the glasses.

    The blonde smiles dryly, like the bourbon, eyes darting to the corner of the room. To an easel, under the dust cover.

    “May I?”

    Taking a moment to calm, to ready herself, Adaline nods, affirmative. “Be my guest.” She sits down in her seat that is foreign and yet completely known to her, watching the woman slowly strut towards the concealed canvas.

    It’s almost comical. Watching Cate watch her painting when she sheds the dust cover away.

    “Who is this?” She is bound to ask.

    “My best friend.”

    Cate looks keenly at the painting, a tilt in her hair. “She is beautiful,”

    “Yes, she was.”

    The third movement drags in faintly somewhere below.

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  • sapphicforsarahh
    22.10.2021 - 17 hours ago

    I’m cold

    Ship: Carol Aird x Reader

    Word count: 280+

    Warnings: None (fluff)

    Synopsis: Carol needs help warming up.

    "Sweetheart, I'm really cold," Carol whispers to you. The both of you were sitting next to each other on the porch, sharing a cup of tea. "Carol, we have blankets," you tell her. "My body isn't cold, its my hands," she replies back, batting her eyes. "You're holding the tea, its got to be warm on your hands or has it gone cold," you start to smile. "Yes its warm, but not warm enough," she complains, placing the tea down on the table. "Can I use you to warm up?" She asks, moving her hands under the blanket. "Of course babe," you reply. 

    Carol finds the hem of your sweater, lifting it up to your stomach. "Carol what are y-", you questioned and cut yourself off. "Oh, right," you laugh. Carol places her hands on your breasts, cupping them. Her hands were indeed cold. "Was this just an excuse for you to fondle me," you ask, quirking an eyebrow. "Now why would you think that, I'm not that type of person. My hands were just extremely cold," she innocently replies, still holding onto your boobs. You could feel her hands beginning to warm up. But she didnt let go. 

    After another 5 minutes of sitting like this, you say to her, "are you emotionally attached to them or something?" "No, but they are nice to hold," she finally takes her hands off and pulls your sweater back down.  Carol sits up, pulling you into her side, reaching for the tea again. "Here you have the rest, considering I stole all your warmth," she hands you the cup, fingers touching yours as she gives you it. "Yes I should think so," you laugh and take a sip.


    Taglist: @hngover

    Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, I’ll add you right away!

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  • vive-la-belle-galadriel
    22.10.2021 - 21 hours ago

    Cate Blanchett

    via:  forthesapphics

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  • thranduilofsmirkwood
    22.10.2021 - 21 hours ago

    #LOTR + The Onion Headlines

    #The Hobbit + The Onion memes


    #lord of the rings

    #The Hobbit #pippin

    #Legolas #mumakil #merry

    #gollum #galadriel #sam gamgee

    #frodo #Aragorn #denethor #council of elrond

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  • celebs-sauce-on-the-side
    22.10.2021 - 22 hours ago
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  • dmills2012-blog
    22.10.2021 - 23 hours ago

    Y’all I need ppl to talk to 😩 my one friend I had got a bf and suddenly I’m chop liver 😂... plz hmu I swear in on my phone like 24/7 lol

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  • anikasoren
    21.10.2021 - 1 day ago


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  • getlostsquidward
    21.10.2021 - 1 day ago

    Maybe the night

    Carol Aird x fem!reader

    A/N: I took the creative liberty choosing Carol's maiden name, but you guys can use whatever you want for this fic :)) Title from Maybe The Night by Ben&Ben

    Summary: AU where Carol’s ending didn’t happen.

    As much as you love to take your time walking out and about on rainy days, this wasn’t really the right time as you were running late for work. Your first day at work. You mentally cursed yourself as you turned to another street. You should have gone around the city yesterday so you wouldn’t be lost on your way to work, but here you were. And on top of that, you were soaking wet. All of the time, your umbrella decided to vanish from your bag right now.

    Luck wasn’t really on your side today as a car passed by you splashing rainwater on your already soaked clothes. Sighing in annoyance, you continued to find the signage of the store you would work in. It was a furniture house, and you’d work as a saleslady. You were too engrossed in familiarizing yourself with different types of furniture, cloth, textures, and everything that a customer would ask you that you had stayed up all night and didn’t wake to your alarm.

    You had talked to the owner through the phone and seemed kind enough. You just hoped that she was the same in person. Looking up, you saw the signage of the store right above you. Glancing at your reflection in the mirror, you did your best to look presentable in spite of the state of your clothes. You heaved a deep sigh before you entered the store.

    There were already a few customers inside, and you bit your lower lip hoping you wouldn’t be scolded by your boss for being almost 30 minutes late. You approached the lady at the counter, introducing yourself as the new saleslady. She looked at you head to toe, her eyeglasses perched at her nose and stared for a moment before walking away. After a minute, she came back handing you your clothes. “Change your clothes before you soak anything in here. You can leave your stuff in the locker behind that door. Hurry before the owner comes.”

    You thanked the woman and proceeded to change. It was a simple collared cream-coloured shirt with the store’s logo on the left chest part. You let your damp hair down to dry. As you got back, there was a new customer who had just entered. Looking back at the woman earlier, she was still busy at her station so you took the initiative and approached the customer. It was your job, after all.

    Mustering your cheery voice, “Good morning, how may I help you?”

    “Oh, I was hoping to find a nice bedside table.”

    Luckily the woman’s back was still on you so you took the time to subtly scan the store for a bedside table. You smiled as you found it even though you had no idea how you will sell it to her without knowledge of your product. When you looked back at your customer, she was already facing you. Your smile faded as you stared at her in wonder. God, she was beautiful. Her blonde locks were perfectly in place, icy but warm blue eyes, and full red lips. Add the fur coat draped on her shoulder, easily making her look the most expensive among the items in the store.


    Her voice broke you out of your daydreaming, “Ah, yes. I’m sorry. I’ll be glad to show them to you, ma’am.”

    You lead her to the section, and you quickly racked your brain to recall what you’ve been studying all night as you familiarize yourself with the product.

    Usually, eye contact with a stranger puts you off, but this stranger seemed to have cast a spell on you. You try hard not to stutter and appear as confident as you make yourself believe as you try to sell the bedside table to her. It will be good for you if you’ll be able to sell on your first day, impress your boss and maybe keep this job for as long as you can before pursuing what you really wanted to be, a painter.

    “Do you want to go over the other tables, ma’am?”

    “Oh, no, thank you…” she paused, “What do I call you, darling?”

    You swallowed a non-existent lump in your throat at the pet name. “It’s Y/N.”

    “Thank you, Y/N. I’m good with this one. Where do I pay?”

    The woman flashed you a smile and before you fawn at her again, you lead her to the counter.

    “I see you’ve met the owner already. This is Miss Carol Hoffman. Miss Hoffman, this is Y/N L/N, the new saleslady.”

    The owner. Your boss.

    You’ve met your boss and you gawked at her. This day couldn’t get any worse, can it?

    Your eyes widened at what she said. “I- I didn’t know that you were the owner, Miss Hoffman. I apologize.”

    The owner chuckled at your surprised state, “It’s alright. You did good, actually. Seemed like it was a good decision to hire you, after all. And please, call me Carol.”

    She offered her hand and you may or may have taken it too fast. The handshake lingered for a minute, the warmth of her hand dispersed on your whole body and removed the cold you feel from earlier.

    The day had passed by quickly, and fortunately for you, nothing more embarrassing had happened to you. You were on your way home and you’d surprisingly remembered every turn and station you passed earlier despite your mind in a whirlwind.

    Carol had once again entered your mind (as if she wasn’t in your mind all day long) as you passed by a clothing shop. She was exactly the way she was when you talked on the phone, if not much better. The woman was incredibly charming, a complete opposite of what you picture in mind when you think about a female middle-aged, rich, business owner.

    Head once again swirling with thoughts, you didn’t notice someone calling you as you enter your apartment complex. You turned around, and the woman in your mind materialized in front of you.

    “Hey there, Y/N.” Carol greeted, her eyes sparkling.

    “Ms. Hoff- Carol. Hello,” you said, somehow confused about how you’ll act around her outside of work.

    “Do you live here?”

    “Yes, it’s the only apartment around here that I found decent,” you chuckled, albeit nervously. “What about you?”

    “What a coincidence, dear. I do. I think I’ve been here for two years now since-”, she paused, and for a moment the sparkle in her eyes dulled, and then washed away with a blink. “Since my divorce.”

    You offered her an apology, and she dismissed it motioning you to enter the building with her. The small talks between you halted when you passed by your floor. You bid your good nights; a smile plastered on both your faces. Maybe this day wasn’t as bad as you thought.

    Maybe, moving to the city was the best decision you’ve ever made.

    Carol was kind enough to show you around, brought you to several spots in the city. Friendship blossomed between the two of you, maybe even more, at least on your part.

    Sometimes you found it hard to tear your gaze from her, always mesmerized by the beauty of the woman, in and out. Immediately noticed her habit of scratching her nape. How cigarette is the first thing she looks for when she feels tired, stressed, or overwhelmed. How she likes her martini dry with an olive.

    Everything was going fine; you were content with admiring the woman from afar.

    And then one day, the blossoming friendship between the two of you ended as quickly as it began.

    Carol never intended to avoid you, but she also didn’t intend for this to happen. It’s only been two years since the divorce, and since... Therese.

    For her to feel something more than friendship for you, she’s afraid it will only open another wound. She’s not going to allow it, not when the wounds inflicted by the past were still pretty fresh. So as early as now, when it’s just a mere scratch, Carol is determined to close it even if it meant hurting you.

    The woman stopped talking to you other than work-related stuff. She distanced herself from you, put her walls back up. Though it made you sad, it didn’t faze you, so if she didn’t want you to break her walls down then you’re damn well sure you’ll climb it.

    Even though it wasn’t your job and she most definitely doesn’t ask you to do it, you brought cups of coffee to her office every day, every morning before she arrives at her office. It was always accompanied by a note with short and sweet messages, letting her know that you are and will always be there for Carol in spite of her cold demeanour towards you.

    And none of those coffees was consumed by the older woman. She was determined to cut you off, but not to the extent of firing you, of course, that would be too cruel of her. Yet you were persistent, and she doesn’t know what to do and feel anymore.

    You hadn’t been able to see her all day as she remained holed up in her office. Although you got out of work earlier than her, you waited for her until she closed the store and walked behind her, putting some distance between you. Somehow, it gave the same feeling when you two used to walk side by side as you venture to your apartment.

    Carol was busy rummaging in her bag she didn’t notice a man following her closely. His intention was to snatch her bag, but before he could, a scream alerted both of them and the people around, causing the man to run away.

    You walked briskly towards her, asking her if she was fine.

    “I’m fine. Thank-” she paused, only noticing that it was you. “Thank you.”

    Despite her assurance that she was okay, you insisted on walking with her.

    As you were about to step out of the elevator, Carol spoke. “Would you like to have a drink? For- for earlier.”

    You answered her with a smile and went back in.

    On Carol’s third glass of wine, it was as if the whole avoiding-Y/N situation never happened. She was back to her usual self when she was around you. It was getting late but none of you seemed to mind the time as you get lost in each other’s presence. Especially Carol as she slowly succumbs to the effects of alcohol.

    “… and it was so ironic because I like you. Very much, I think-”

    Carol suddenly sobered from your reaction or lack thereof. You had a blank expression, your mind processing what the woman had just said.

    She apologized and got up to walk away. You reached for her wrist to stop her. When she faced you, you noticed the tear that slipped down her cheeks.

    You kissed the palm that you were holding and whispered, “I like you too, Carol. Very much.”

    “You’ve had too much to drink, Y/N. Stay the night.”

    The older woman leaned down and pressed her lips onto yours. The kiss was chaste, unsure, despite the fact that you both had just confessed your feelings. A hand made its way to tug at your hair, making you gasp. Carol found this opportunity to deepen the kiss. You hated pulling away, but you were feeling light-headed.

    “I should be the one saying that to you, Carol. And I literally live downstairs,” you chuckled, still feeling giddy.

    “I don't take no for an answer, darling,” she mused, giving you a playful smile.

    You could never say no to her anyway.

    #cate blanchett #cate blanchett x reader #cate blanchett imagine #carol#carol aird #carol aird x reader #carol 2015
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  • misstwist
    21.10.2021 - 1 day ago
    #cate blanchett fans #cate blanchett
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  • itsafictitiousfic
    21.10.2021 - 1 day ago


    Hi y’all. Dropping in to post that I will no longer be posting my fics on here until further notice. Idk if it’s the algorithm, me, you, or a combination of all 3, BUT my interactions have dropped. It’s disheartening wanting to create fics for all of you to enjoy, only to see it go unnoticed/ignored.

    Call me harsh, whiny, or whatever, but I don’t write for the silence. No writer does.

    For those of you who do interact, please know I’m thankful for you. For those of you who don’t, why are you here?.

    Anyway, I will still write, but I’ll post them to my AO3, and possibly Wattpad. I’ll still be active here, reblogging other writers who are strictly posting here.

    #briegasms#mine#announcement#fanfic#fanfiction#writings#imagines#writing #cate blanchett fic #brie larson fic #marvel fic #tom hiddleston fic #chris evans fic #sebastian stan fic
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  • misstwist
    21.10.2021 - 1 day ago

    I woke up like this

    I woke up like this

    We flawless, ladies tell 'em

    I woke up like this

    I woke up like this

    We flawless, ladies tell 'em

    Say I, look so good tonight

    God damn, God damn

    Say I, look so good tonight

    God damn, God damn

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  • sarahthecoat
    21.10.2021 - 1 day ago

    i signed up for kanopy through my library, and what should they have right on the front page but STAGED 2!! so i immediately binged the whole thing. what a delight! and full of surprises despite not avoiding spoilers.

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  • seaasalted
    20.10.2021 - 2 days ago

    I wish that Carol Aird was still alive, she would’ve loved The L Word

    #and her favorite character would be helena #the l word #the l word: generation q #tlwgq#carol aird#carol 2015#carol movie#carol#cate blanchett
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