#gentsleuth

[blubrds]

@gentsleuth​

     BOOKSTORES FEEL MORE LIKE HOME THAN HOME DOES. or has in a long time. there’s nothing quite like it, like stepping foot over the threshold of someplace that has a busy city street on one side and the serenity of the smell of ink on paper on the other. you’re avoiding writing - what’s new - but at least you’re surrounding yourself with words on this drizzly sort of saturday morning. peach would make fun of you for trekking out to brooklyn for a bookstore when there are plenty in manhattan, but she doesn’t get it. besides - - - the ride on the train over was nice. you listened to npr and everything.

     “hi,” of course you have to say SOMETHING to the first employee you see, “sorry to be like, TOTALLY ANNOYING, but i was wondering if you had any recommendations?” its a pretty solid way to get new reads you would have never thought of picking up, and bookstore employees always have some interesting favorites.

[ltdice-a]

this you and rooster?

how tf did you get this picture of us……….. @ltrooster help bradley he has a camera set up in our room ???????????

[aliasinvestigate]

@gentsleuth​ called alias investigations

“      CAN   IT,   colonel   sanders.      ”         there   are   styles   of   snoops      ;      jessica   has   always   favored   the   slinking,   seamy   underbelly   sleuth   skirting   the   edges   of   the   city.      she’s   all   day-old   black   kohl   rimmed   around   the   eyes,   a   battered   jacket   slung   across   her   shoulders,   the   tang   of   tobacco   curling   around   her   tongue      &      stinging   smoke   partnered   with   it   to   pinch   at   her   gaze.      a   real,   seedy   noir   kind   of   deal.      

she   gets   her   hands   dirty.      

her   camera   hangs   around   her   neck      &      she   fishes   in   her   pocket   for   a   cigarette.      her   ire   fuels   beneath   the   gasoline   fire   of   whisky   bellied   down   for   a   break   between   jobs.         a   soggy   packet   crushed   into   the   shape   of   her   palm   comes   free   until   she   can   ferret   the   last   stick   out.      putting   it   to   her   lips   does   NOTHING   to   soften   her   steeping,   snarling   scowl.         “      -------         this   is   my   gig      &      LIKE   HELL   am   i   giving   it   up   to   some   kentucky   fried   asshole   playing   at   hercule   poirot.      ”   

[herlevel]

you deal with ONE SLEUTH, you’ve dealt with them ALL. the only question left is why the universe sees it fit to keep placing irene in the direct path of such creatures ; it really is starting to feel POINTED at this point. “i’m sorry to say i don’t think i’ll be of any help, mr. blanc,” irene tilts her cheek into a cupped hand, elbow resting upon the cream tablecloth as gaze flickers away from the man to drift across the suddenly stalled gala - - - meant to be an OPENING NIGHT PARTY for a production of candide that has been rather abruptly interrupted by a theft and murder (rather in the spirit of the show, irene thinks but will not say). irene is - perhaps - a touch too UNFLAPPED by such things. “i didn’t see anything.” @gentsleuth​

[alyafae-a]

“ how people haven’t noticed what is really going on is absolutely beyond me. don’t you think you have gone a bit too far this time? you are not just putting yourself in a critical position, i believe you’re forgetting about that. ”    she rubs the bridge of her nose, chasing away a headache she hasn’t even gotten yet.     . . .     @gentsleuth​

[conziergearch]

PROMPT :   you wanted the truth.  i’ve given it to you.  it’s up to you what you do with it. ――   @gentsleuth​

                   she has never been a patient woman :   always effective,  straight-forward,   and pedantic perhaps,  yes.   but the lack of patience on her behalf was outweighed by staunch self-discipline and perfectionist control over even the most miniscule facial expressions.   she’s not easy to discompose.   that he’s done just that could be impressive if she wasn’t so close to abandoning him in the middle of nowhere.   the brown folder in her hand,   she turns.   the other car has left :   it’s just her,  him,  and his fucking stupid subterfuge.     “ you withheld the truth,  blanc!   you withheld critical information i needed ――   for days!   and for what reason?   because you don’t trust me? ”     the folder is held up as if he doesn’t know what’s inside,   voice pressed and agitated.   and to think she has to spend two hours with him in the car,   just to get back to the office ――   and do what?   repress her anger?     “ are we partners,  or not?   because i can’t work like this,   with us constantly…   frustrating each other!   i want to solve this case as much as you do!   and i need you.   is that what you want to hear? ”

[serendpitous-a]

     @gentsleuth​  .  .  .   liked  for  a  short  starter

      “  ex-squeeze-you . . .  ”  mindy huffs, arms folding over her chest as she assumes what she would interpret as some sort of power pose ( if it’s good enough for beyoncé, it’s good enough for her ),  “  you can’t just do that.  ”  not when the line at her favorite coffee cart is, like, a mile long on this cursed monday morning and not when she can see that there’s only one bear claw left, when she usually requires two . . . minimum.  “ get to the back of the line, bozo. you’re getting that bear claw over my dead body.  ”

[cowlgbt]

gay cow stay