hamb0express
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Kate sighs when she hears them start to file into the small theatre. She can tell from the excited chatter and thumping of feet it's more people than she's used to. As usual the time of year has caused an uptick in her audience just as Halloween approaching will increase the visitations of the dead. It’s spooky season! She rolls her neck, feels the faint burn of an impending headache and sighs again, it's going to be a long night.
Kate Sharma is a medium with a reputation that preceeds her. Visisted by her mother, her father and tonight a man who needs her to pass along a message to his son and perhaps nudge her towards romance in the strangest way.
Bookmarked by hamb0express
07 May 2026
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four times kate and anthony find themselves defending each other to the ton, and one time they don’t.
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Bookmarked by hamb0express
18 Apr 2026
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They call themselves “Secretaries of Juliet,” Kate learns. A group of women, many fluent in multiple languages, all of varying ages and with different stories, who volunteer their time to write back to every single person who leaves a letter in their care. It’s an astounding thing, Kate thinks, to have found such an incredible cadre of women by sheer chance.
or,
Kate Sharma inspires Eloise Bridgerton to revisit her own lost love story. Anthony Bridgerton might have something to say about that.
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Bookmarked by hamb0express
17 Apr 2026
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“I think Anthony Bridgerton refusing to Drift with me is perhaps the first bit of sense he’s ever had,” Kate says stiffly, turning her back on the sergeant and filing out of the command center with one feeling coursing through her body: pure, unadulterated hate.
(The Pacific Rim AU nobody asked for).
Bookmarked by hamb0express
13 Apr 2026
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She didn’t tell Anthony.
Because she loved him. Loved the moments they spent together, the friendship they had forged. Loved the way he looked across the dinner table at her and cracked his little grin at whatever madness was occurring between them. Loved the way he soothed her during thunderstorms, his voice deep in her ear, his large hands stroking her body. He was her confidante, her support, her brother. The man she could have so easily fallen in love with, had they not shared the same blood.
So she buried it. Held it together when Anthony’s touches grew more intimate, more familiar. Willed her heart to steady when he brushed her hair from her face, when he rubbed her tense shoulders, when she fed him a bite of her brownie and he licked the excess chocolate off her finger like it was nothing. Like it meant nothing.
It wasn’t enough.
But it would have to be.