#[ such a gooooood month i dig it ] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

timextoxhajima · 4 years ago

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*SHORT SERIES

Member: LEE JUYEON

Genre: angst, fluff, romance, chaebol feels cause i can totally see juyeon as a chaebol who’s self-sustaining idk

A/N: Here’s juyeon in something that looks like a suit/formal wear cause i couldn’t find a gif of him in a suit :”) m sed. i’m also very very very weak for settings that are of high-class and somewhat jazzy/sophisticated/expensive themes. throwing in romance just boosts the bonus points ;”)

Links to other parts:

Frustrated (light smut)

Love Somebody (light smut)

Play With Fire (smut)

you couldn’t help but to smile softly at the sound of your colleagues lowkey dissing the hell out of your boss. you’ve been working at this law firm for nearly half a year now, and nearly nobody working in the building has any clue how your boss looks like.

there wasn’t a single photo of him in the building, and even if there was, the only person who knew how he looked like refused to disclose the information.

“don’t you find it strange that mr lee sangyeon refuses to tell us how our boss even looks like? surely there’s some portrait of him hanging somewhere in the office,” you look at chanhee who was on the verge of spitting his food out in the midst of aggressively complaining.

you laugh, using your tongue and cleaning the small bits of tomato and lettuce from your teeth, watching sunwoo grab a napkin. you expected him to wipe his mouth before going off on a diss, but he just crumples it in his hand and says whatever he wanted to say.

“i asked him before and he said that we’d gossip about him if we knew who he really was. all i know is that he hasn’t been in the building since his father gave him the law firm.”

“huh?” chanhee’s eyes were wide open and staring at sunwoo upon the new information. “don’t tell me... so he’s just a chaebol who thinks he doesn’t need to work just ‘cause his father owns the company? wha... this guy is really something else...”

you exchange glances with eric, who had been silent alongside you and listening to the conversation.

“if you google the law firm and his father’s name, only his father’s name comes up,” sunwoo pulls up his phone, mouth still chewing on the last bit of his pasta.

“oh! what’s his name? are there any pictures of him?” chanhee leaned towards the younger, trying to take a look at the phone screen while sunwoo googles the name.

“ah, he’s only been referred to as the son of his father... no pictures of him...”

chanhee bares his teeth in disappointment, pulling away and returning his attention to his food.

“what’s the internet good for if we can’t even find the information we need...”

you chuckle, taking a sip from your coffee.

the last six months you’ve been working here, you’ve been clearing every case with ease. you’ve worked with chanhee, sunwoo and with eric on the latest one, and you’ve won every case you needed to turn up in court for.

but all those wins were at the expense of your sleep and alone time.

there was nothing for you to worry about though, mr lee sangyeon has already given you feedback that you were doing well anyway.

but you couldn’t help but wonder: just who is your boss?

you, chanhee, eric and sunwoo entered the company in the same batch six months ago, and since then your boss has not once stepped into the building. what was strange was that nobody else has spoken about him. it almost seemed like every other employee under the law firm was either terrified to even speak of him, or that they were simply clueless.

you’ve tried digging the information from the colleague sitting next to your cubicle: lee jaehyun.

but never does he once budge. all he’s ever done when you ask about your phantom boss was shake his head and tell you not to ask anybody else about him. you’ve tried to ask if he was a scary boss or that he’s never even seen him before, but he shooed you away and told you to focus on your cases instead.

the week passes in a flash, with a new case you’ve been working on with chanhee that’s been holding the both of you back in office till late hours was killing you. if it wasn’t for mr lee sangyeon shutting off all the electricity in the office, you and chanhee would’ve probably spent the night there.

“the both of you are allowed to report to office at 10 am tomorrow. you guys get two hours discount because i know this case is pretty tough. it’s your first business lawsuit, right?”

chanhee’s eyes were rolled back so far in his head that he looked drunk, so you take the initiative to respond by nodding with whatever energy you had left in you.

“okay. good job for now. go home,” the manager taps on chanhee’s shoulders and jerks him a little. “go home or the both of you are fired!”

chanhee shoots up at the word “fired”, only bowing in apology before the both of you gets chased out of the office.

THE NEXT MORNING

“GOOOOOOD MOR--”

“shut the fuck up!”

you turn your head sharply at sunwoo who hissed at you. he was seated near the entrance of the office, so he was the first person to hear you push open the doors like you were entering heaven.

“well, that’s not very kind of yo--”

“he’s fucking here, you dumbwit!” sunwoo has a finger pressed to his lips and a look of urgency cemented into his face. frankly, he looked like he was in pain.

eric, who was sitting right next to him, looks at both you and chanhee and shakes his head gently.

you look around the office, and you notice everybody’s heads were dipped into their laptops and case files. it was so quiet, it’ll be an understatement if you said you could hear a pin drop.

“i’m sorry, who’s here?” you frown at sunwoo, frowning a little while you remember you didn’t bother wearing a brooch. it wasn’t compulsory, but mr lee sangyeon has mentioned before that it was an office tradition. you note that nobody else has the brooch on besides chanhee and lee jaehyun.

“oh my god, you’re a fucki--”

“oh!” you hear your manager call out. you and chanhee react to the enthusiastic greeting, and you see your manager walking along the larger offices and around the cubicles where you worked. “the both of you are here! i was beginning to worry you were going to be late.”

mr lee sangyeon stops about two metres before you, hands in his pocket. you notice he has a brooch on his breast pocket, and you don’t remember him ever wearing it.

“why don’t the two of you settle down for a bit, and around...” he looks at his watch. “ten thirty? meet me outside the CEO’s office.”

you hear chanhee hiccup at the instruction. though you were a lawyer yourself, you take longer than necessary to process the information.

“huh?” you blurt out. you notice sunwoo facepalming in the corner of your eye while your manager had the stiffest smile on his face. “the... the CEO?”

“yes, the CEO.”

you hear chanhee stammer a little bit. “uh... i... did we do anything wrong? are we getting fired? why are we going to the CEO’s of--”

“oh, no! none of that,” your manager bursts into laughter and waves his hand in your faces. “the CEO was just looking through the case files and he thinks this one is going to be tricky. he’s thinking of helping the both of you through it!”

your face doesn’t move, but your eyes turn to look at chanhee who was now standing right next to you.

the ceo hasn’t even been in the damn building since he got the law firm. who does he think he is, thinking of helping us ‘through it’?

“oh, don’t sweat it! he’s not as bad as people say, trust me.”

you force out a weak smile, noticing sunwoo giving you two thumbs-up without smiling. it was as if he was sending you off to your death.

“ohmygod we’re gonna get fired we’re gonna get fired ohmyjesus we’re going to get fired we’regonnagetfi--”

“shut your trap, would you?” you whisper harshly, punching chanhee lightly in his arm. the both of you were standing outside the CEO’s office, the digital clock in the corner of the space displaying 1027.

“mr lee already said we’re not getting fired, so stop freaking out on me!” you urge him to collect himself as you hear the door of your manager’s door click open.

“when you’re inside, just address him with ‘sir’ and mr lee if you’re talking to me, okay?” your manager grins widely at you. you absorb his demeanor, only now realising that he must’ve known that the ceo was going to come into office today. there was no other reason why he chose today to wear the brooch.

“relax, and just hear him out carefully with whatever he says, okay? the both of you will be fine as long as i’m around.”

you frown to yourself, and you could almost hear chanhee get a whole asthma attack behind you.

‘you’ll be fine as long as i’m around’? is this guy a wolf or vampire or something?

your manager turns and knocks on the frosted glass, and you turn to notice a vague, dark shadow standing inside.

“come in.”

your manager pushes the door open, and chanhee pushes you to enter the office first.

the first thing you notice was the scent of the space once you were inside.

there was a light scent that reminded you of the mountains and trees whenever you went hiking. the scent of dew, pine trees and fresh air was the only thing you could smell.

the next thing you noticed was how incredibly neat and large the office was. you’ve never stepped into this office before, and though mr lee sangyeon’s was right next to this office, it looked like it was easily double the size of his.

“go easy on them,” your manager’s voice snapped you back to reality. you found yourself standing awkwardly behind the chairs that looked expensive on its own. “don’t scare my newbies, please.”

you hear your manager laugh. your eyes travel from the orientation of the room and it’s black and golden-brown colors to see the man that sent the entire office into complete silence since you’ve stepped in, and you nearly lost your grip on all the files you had in your arm.

“why?” your boss laughs as he turns around from the shelf behind his desk, placing a file on the surface before looking at you and chanhee. “there’s no reason for them to be scared as long as they haven’t done anything wrong.”

you blink multiple times, forgetting that anybody might’ve thought you had something in your eye if they saw it. your boss looked even younger than your manager, and he wasn’t even in a suit.

he was in a blue blazer with silver buttons, with a button down top underneath and black pants with his hair waxed upwards. had you not known this man was your boss, you would’ve thought he was some random guy who broke into his office. you were expecting someone in his mid thirties or something, so seeing someone barely a few years older than you standing in the office labelled ‘CEO’ was difficult to swallow.

“choi chanhee, right?” he first looks at your friend, fingers mindlessly fiddling with each other behind the files he was holding in his hands. chanhee quickly bows. you observe carefully as his eyes travel from chanhee to you.

“you... you’re the one who’s closed like, three cases in the six months you were here, right?” he tilts his head while he asks the question. you bow cautiously with your hand over your chest.

“i only let them take up this case because they both stood out to me the most,” your manager pulls out both chairs at the table, gesturing to the both of you to sit. the ceo smiles, turning and leaning his rear against the edge of the table. he looks out the window behind his desk and beside the shelf, watching the city pass by second by second.

your manager gets the both of you settled in the seats like a parent, and you watch as chanhee tries his best to speak with his eyes.

your manager shakes his head lightly, only to pat chanhee on his shoulder.

“don’t you dare scare them!” your manager warns the ceo. he looks over his shoulder and nods without a smile. chanhee looks worriedly at your manager leaving the office, physically uneasy as the door shuts with a click.

there was a heavy, awkward silence that hung in the air while both you and chanhee watch your ceo stare out of the window. you couldn’t even see his face because all you were looking at were the creases on his back.

“the first rule i need you two to follow if we are to work together is professionalism,” his voice startles you, but he doesn’t turn around. “meaning that whatever obstacles that come by, we discuss it as a team. the company that filed for this lawsuit, objectively speaking, was in the wrong. it’s highly likely that we’ll lose as the defendant if we make one small mistake.”

you hear chanhee gulp, and if it was loud enough for you to hear, your ceo probably heard it too.

he finally pushes himself off the desk and turns around, pulling out the chair so he was now sitting facing the both of you.

his eyes were so focused, so serious, that you realise now why your manager hasn’t said anything about him to any of you newbies.

he was intimidating and there was a look of sheer determination in him that would’ve scared the balls out of certain people. lee jaehyun was probably one of them.

your manager must’ve told anybody who has already met him to keep quiet about his intimidating personality.

but... where the hell has he been the last six months? and was he even qualified to be giving us this speech?

“the second thing i need the both of you to know is that this isn’t going to be an easy case. i’m going to need the both of you to commit to it right now, and if you can’t just be honest. i’m not going to fire you just because you’re worried about losing a difficult case in the first six months you’re working here.”

you purse your lips, confident that you were going to get through this, even if it meant losing.

chanhee doesn’t agree though.

“actually,” you snap your head to glare at chanhee when he opens his mouth. your ceo leans back in his seat, his face a lack of emotion. “i can’t deny i’m worried that we’re going to lose the case. i agree that there’s a high chance that we might lose as the defense counsel so--”

“are you nuts?” you interrupt him with a low voice. as if your ceo isn’t going to hear it. “so what if we lose the case?”

“i’m sorry, i just--”

“no, it’s fine, i totally understand,” your ceo shakes his head and leans forward again, resting his arms on the surface of the desk and reaching for the case file. “i know how it feels like to lose a case, even when you know it’s difficult to win.”

you snap your head back to the man sitting opposite you with eyes made of steel, completely forgetting that he was your ceo.

‘i know how it feels’?

“sangyeon hyung told me that you were exhausted yesterday after working on this case all day, so i’m giving you a chance to walk away and trust me and y/n with it.”

you return your attention to chanhee, your head chanting “no no no no no no please no”

but chanhee gives you an apologetic look.

you sigh and resign to fate, wanting to bury your face in your palms, but the sound of your ceo clicking on a pen prevents you from doing so.

“alright, i’ll get the details of the case fixed by the end of the day. before you clock out in the evening, do give it a check and inform me if your name is still on the case in the system.”

he scribbles something in the case file and gives chanhee a look that you couldn’t read. no smile, no nod, nothing.

“if there’re no further questions then you may leave,” he directs the instruction at chanhee. you look at him with begging eyes, telling him not to ditch you alone with this man.

you should’ve known chanhee was merciless at heart, and you were on the verge of cursing at him when you see him shoot you a cheeky smile when you watch him escape.

your eyes remain glued to chanhee’s back as he exits the office, and the frosted glass door takes forever to close.

“anything about the glass door that’s so fascinating to you?”

you turn your neck so fast at his question that you feel a nerve snap. you wince a little at the pain that shoots up your head, but you manage to collect yourself while he looks through the case file that chanhee left behind.

“i know what you’re thinking,” he looks up at you through his lashes, and you’ve never seen the whites of someone’s eyes so... glaring. “but i’m very sure you don’t need to concern yourself with whatever those questions or thoughts are.”

he closes the case file and leans forward, so much that you felt the need to lean back into your seat.

“all you need to know is that i’m here to help you with this case, despite the level of difficulty. and i want you to know that i have faith in you. that even if you lose, you would’ve fought a good fight.”

what in the world is he even talking about now?

he doesn’t give you time to let nonsensical thoughts run through your head. all he does was fumble around in his drawers for some blank paper and he furiously types on his computer.

you weren’t sure if you were just overwhelmed by all the questions that you couldn’t even form in your head, or that he just waltzed in here and took over a case that belonged to you and chanhee. either way, you were completely dumbfounded.

he prints you a case file sheet, and before you could even read what was on it, he speaks again.

“just follow that sheet and do whatever you need to do to find the information and details. after you’re done, you will submit it back to me and i’ll hand you the next sheet.”

what?

“i’m sorry, wha--”

“did i say you could ask questions?” he looks at you, writing stopped and the tip of the pen still on a piece of paper in the file. you unconsciously shoot him a dirty look at his response, but you don’t realise it yourself because he doesn’t bother giving you a reaction.

“you may return to your working space. have it done by tonight and get out of the office by 8pm. you will report to me tomorrow at 8am, and if you’re late, you’ll be removed from the case.”

8pm was earlier than the recommended end-of-work time.

you open your mouth to protest, not realising that your face has contorted into a mess of anger and completely disbelief. but he looks up at you again, and if his eyes could talk, you swore they said, shut up and get out.

you swallow your pride, sucking a deep breath so hard that you were sure he could hear it. you stand up, give a polite bow, and turn on your heels to leave his office.

once the door clicks behind you and you make sure your manager was back in his office, you start mouthing long strings of vulgarities, trembling and shaking within your control.

“motherfucker-- what the fuck--”

you return to your seat opposite chanhee’s, and sunwoo and eric rush over to you at the sight of your silent tantrum.

“what happened? is he as shitty as we predicted him to be?”

you huff and bury your face into your hands, careful not to let your fingers mess up your hair.

“i should’ve dropped the damn case, ugh,” you groan, not wanting to engage in a gossip session with sunwoo and eric. chanhee shoos them away to let you work on whatever you were told to do, and you did just that.

to your dismay, this cycle repeats itself for the next two weeks.

nothing but filling up case file sheets like it was homework, and your boss never once has a conversation about it with you. you were starting to wonder if he was just feeding you worksheets to help him get through the case because there was nearly nothing else you could think of that he could’ve been working on on his own.

you were more than happy to be working on this case, and though you were given more time to rest at home, you were losing time with your colleagues. on top of that, it’s not like you went to sleep the moment you got home. you worked on it until your eyes couldn’t bear to stay open, and it wasn’t difficult to notice because sunwoo made fun of your eyebags one week after you started filling up case file worksheets.

you were ready to storm into his office in strong protest one morning, but your manager breaks the unfortunate news to you on a bright, sunny day.

“excuse me?” your mouth hung agape at the new information. “he wants me to what?”

sunwoo, eric and chanhee look up from their desks and watches as you painfully process the instructions. your manager doesn’t do anything besides continue the rest of the message relayed from your ceo.

“there’ll be a Porsche at the entrance of the building in about an hour’s time, so you should have all things case-related with you when you get into the car.”

you couldn’t believe your fucking ears.

not only was he feeding you worksheets, now you had to fix your work schedule around him?

you were huffing as you searched through his shelves for the case-related items, only to realise there was nothing left of it in his office. you couldn’t be bothered wondering where all the materials were, because everything the case needed had been filled up by you, and he’s probably stashed it somewhere waiting to claim the credit for himself.

chanhee watches you as you gather every file and sheet of paper case-related from your work space, and you don’t bother finishing your coffee before offering it to chanhee.

“call the fucking police if i don’t text you by dinner please,” you nearly snap at chanhee, filled with frustration and anger. he laughs at your demise, taking a sip from the coffee you barely drank as you drag yourself to leave the office.

your suitcase was much heavier than usual with all the case files in it, so you were only grateful that the Porsche’s chauffeur was kind enough to help you get the door open.

“sorry for needing you to get the door open,” you huff, slightly out of breath as the chauffeur returns to the driver’s seat. you pull the seatbelt over your chest and buckle it, patting down the creases of your pants and blazer.

“oh, no it’s totally normal! we’ve been instructed to help whoever’s getting into the vehicles mr lee send anyway, regardless of the things they are carrying.”

“uh... mr lee? lee sang yeon?”

“huh?” the driver looks at your through the rear mirror. his eyes light up once he processes your words and chuckles warmly. “oh, no. mr lee sangyeon is the manager of the law firm. i’m talking about mr lee juyeon, the ceo.”

so that’s his name.

“oh,” you mumble to yourself, looking out the window as the car drives away from the building. “lee juyeon... would’ve been more convincing if lee sangyeon was the one who gave those instructions.”

“did you say something?”

“uh--” you stutter.

shit.

“i--”

“are you one of his lawyers who think that he’s mean and cold and unreasonable?” he smiles at you with a look of mischief in his eyes.

isn’t he?

asshole.

you struggle to read his expression, because all you could think of was the fact that you were on his way to his home office just because he was ‘unable to be in the office today’.

“judging by your silence, i’m guessing you are one of those people.”

you look away, telling yourself to shut up before you say anything horrible and get yourself fired.

the chauffeur must’ve picked up on your discomfort, and he doesn’t say anything else the rest of the drive.

the drive was barely ten minutes compared to the near one hour it took you to travel from your apartment to the office. but what was more shocking to you was where this douchebag lived.

the Porsche stops at a building in an area that you’ve never stepped foot in, for the sole reason that this was the most expensive building in the city.

you should’ve expected it, but seeing it for yourself and being physically present made it all the more harder to believe it.

you were so busy looking up at the building in awe from the inside of the car that you don’t notice the chauffeur get the door open, and someone else comes to get your suitcase for you.

you now notice both the chauffeur and the man who took your suitcase for you had brooches of the same design but different colors on their blazers.

you follow the man who took your suitcase into the lift lobby, the chandelier that hung way up above your head was the first thing that you took notice of. the walls and floor were black and gold, and everything else in the lift lobby was either silver or bronze.

you would’ve totally thought this was a hotel if you didn’t know your ceo lived here.

you stand in awkward silence as the lift ascends to the top floor, and it takes you a moment to realise that the top floor were all penthouses because the lift stops, and the man presses a button before the doors opens directly into someone’s living room.

your eyes widen in wonder, and for a moment you believed you were in some sightseeing tower. beyond the living room was a whole glass wall that spanned the length of the living room, allowing you to take in the view of the city.

there were two flights of stairs on both sides as you exit the lift, and you catch a glimpse of the extremely large television screen mounted onto the wall on the left, and the kitchen on the right.

you could’ve spent the entire time just gawking at the orientation and the view, but the sound of shoes clacking against the marble floor steals your attention away.

you turn, your footing now adjacent to the first steps of the stairs on both sides, only to see your boss walking down the steps with a phone held to his ear.

the man who has your suitcase bows, earning a small nod and wave from your ceo.

huh, the waving is new.

the man lays your suitcase down by the table that was sitting on huge rug on the floor in the middle of the living room. you walk over, scanning the expensive looking three-set sofa that surrounded the table, the only empty side facing the television that looked more like a theatre screen up close.

“i understand,” you watch as your ceo pats the man on his back and send him off, attention still on the conversation on the phone. “i look forward to meeting you next month, mr shin. always an honour working with you.”

you turn back, now looking at the table and the sofas, but your eyes naturally follow the light, and you begin walking to the glass window where the city passes by below your feet. cars were the size of ants and humans looked like specks of dust.

“you know i just got my windows cleaned yesterday.”

you step back, quickly realising that you were so cooped up with staring at the world outside that you pressed your forehead and nose against the surface of the glass, leaving ugly marks on it. your hands fly up to your mouth, your eyes widening at the sight.

your first instinct was to reach up with your arm and wipe it off, but your boss was suddenly next to you, his grip on your wrist stopping whatever you wanted to do.

“it’s fine. leave it be, i’ll get someone to wipe it off later.”

he releases his hold on you and walks away.

you wince quietly to yourself, mentally berating yourself for being so mindless and careless despite being in his (pent)house while he picks up your suitcase and takes out all the case files.

“i need you to look through the 3rd and 7th piece over and tell me more about the company’s leases and financial bonds,” he looks through the file and leaves it open on the third sheet, laying it flat on the table. “give me a minute.”

you sit on the sofa, your heels making it difficult to walk on the rug. you watch as he takes two steps at a time up the stairs and disappears behind a wall that you assume was a hallway.

you spent a whole day staring at each piece of worksheet, so you’ve basically memorised everything about the third and seventh sheet he needed you to look at.

you wonder why he was wearing an all black fit in the comfort of his own home instead.

within a minute he was rushing back down the stairs, and in his hand was a file you’ve never seen before. there were so many sheets in it that you wonder if it was just torn right out of a book.

but he lays it down next to yours, and everything in it was case-related with information that you’ve never seen before.

he lets you look through the sheets in his file, and you can’t help to stare at him with utter confusion. he catches you watching him with a perplexed expression and allows you a few moments before everything clicks in your head.

“you’re a fucking lawyer.”

Part 2: Frustrated

#timetohajima #timetohajima playlist feels #lee juyeon #the boyz juyeon #juyeon au #im very tempted to do something bad in the 2nd part #juyeon fanfic #juyeon imagine #chaebol juyeon #angst #angry shit #idk what im doing anymore

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bugsbucky · 4 years ago

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It’s A Roommate Thing

Sebastian Stan x Reader

Prompt: imagine you’re Sebastian’s roommate and in quarantine together. Neither of you are getting sex for months or years and the two of you decide to help each other out with your needs.

Warnings: implied smut, some suggestive talk from Seb. I’m not really sure what else 🤣

Word count: 430

Authors notes: this is for @the-ss-horniest-book-club for the extended Drunk Drabbles ❤️

I just want to say: if you have anything nasty to say to me, please keep it to yourself. The anon who sent me a threatening ask triggered an anxiety attack and I’m already suffering with painful headaches. I don’t need the negativity or the stress. Let’s spread love and not hate. Thank you and I love you all ❤️

“AHHHH oh my gooooood!” You groaned digging the palm of your hands into your eye sockets, throwing your head back against the soft cushion of the couch you and Sebby bought together when you first decided to become roommates 3 years ago.

You were frustrated beyond relief. Being in quarantine since March was no fun for anyone. There was a little light at the end of the tunnel, but things were far from being back to normal. Fortunately for you, being quarantined with the best looking man in the whole of New York made this experience much better.

“What’s up with you butter nuts?” Seb teased, plopping down next to you. Easily dodging the flying pillow you threw in his direction.

“Nothing that I wanna talk to you about. It’s embarrassing.”

“It can’t be worse than sounding like Godzilla needing some dicking.” You watched him throw his head back and laugh at his own joke. Pulling your lip between your teeth knowing he wasn’t wrong. That’s exactly what was wrong. The last time you got any was well before Christmas and now with the social distancing in place for goodness knows how long, the sexual frustration was getting the better of you.

Seb rolled his head to his right to see why you didn’t respond. He noticed your eyes were dancing all over the place in the room and your knee shaking under you. Something you did when you were nervous.

“That’s what it is right? You’re horny.” It came out more of a statement than a question. Your eyes darted to his soft lips when the tip of his tongue rolled across the chapped skin.

“N-no.” You lied. A blush creeping up your neck and cheeks. Sebastian raised an eyebrow, letting you know he knew you were lying.

“You’re not the only one you know. I’ve been hard for months. Could help each other you know… don’t need to torture ourselves.” His tone was serious.

“You’re kidding right?”

“Dead serious. You have what I need and I have what you need. Just helping each other out.” His tongue took a long swipe across his lips again, grazing the hair he was growing on his face.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” His eyebrows knitted together.

“Okay. We’ll help each other. When do we start?” You’re still sure he’s joking around. But it isn’t until he stood up in front of you and pulled you up off the couch did you believe he was dead serious.

“Now.” He winked, pulling you to the comfort of his bedroom. Kicking the door shut with his foot.

Taglist: @jobean12-blog @marvelgirl7 @godofplumsandthunder @hawksmagnolia @littleredstarfish @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @buckys-henley @buckybarnesplumwhore @sarge-barnes-sir @deanthedemon @kitkatd7 @crushedbyhyperbole @emilylyoness @this-kitten-is-smitten

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vannahfanfics · 4 years ago

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Of Comfort and Cup Noodles

Category: Hurt and Comfort

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Ochako Uraraka, Fumikage Tokoyami

Requested By: generic-goblin (Tumblr)

Hey, everybody! Here’s another story for @bnhabookclub’s Bingo Event for the prompt “Bad News”! Enjoy~

Ochako hummed happily to herself as she watched the cup of instant ramen slowly spin in the microwave. Her brown eyes focused on the bubbling water slipping out of the lid to roll in steaming droplets down the patterned plastic side. Her mouth watered as her mind danced with visions of soft noodles, hearty vegetables, and tender meat. She’d scored some high-scale ramen at a supermarket sale, so Ochako vibrated with excitement, simply dying to taste the fancy noodles from which she was typically barred. She watched the seconds tick down with mounting excitement. Before the microwave even had a chance to beep with the finished countdown, she popped the machine open.

“Oh my Goooooood,” she exhaled exultantly as the aroma of cooked ramen wafted up her nose. Her eyelashes fluttered with ecstasy just smelling it, so naturally, her tastebuds tingled in rapt anticipation. Using a dishtowel to transport the hot cup, she scurried over to her small table and set the cup down. Wielding her chopsticks in one hand, she slowly peeled the lid back and watched with dilated pupils as hot steam billowed from within. The noodles looked simply perfect bobbing in the light brown broth, and a thick slice of chicken surrounded by green onions, spinach, and carrots practically screamed at her to be eaten. Laughing almost maniacally with exaltation, she plucked the meat from the broth, which dripped deliciously from its off-white surface. Ochako blew on it briefly before slipping it into her mouth. With a delighted, muffled squeal, she melted against the floor, having achieved nirvana with just one bite.

“Soooo gooooood,” she groaned blissfully. The ramen was seasoned to perfection, and the healthy blend of vegetables only added to the delectable taste. She flopped back up and began digging into the ramen with gusto, savoring each swathe of noodles with airy giggles before inhaling some more. She was so enraptured with her meal that she didn’t notice that her phone was ringing until she almost missed the call.

“Hello? Hello?” she cried into the phone as she hurriedly picked it up, her voice slightly distorted from the noodles still shoved into her mouth. She quickly swallowed, beaming when her mother voiced greeting on the other end of the line. “Oh, hi, Mom! What’s up?” she asked and pushed the ramen aside to hold conversation properly. They made pleasant small talk, but there was a particular strain in her mother’s voice that had Ochako’s nerves buzzing suspiciously. When her mother abruptly sighed, Ochako inquired, “Mom? Is everything all right?” Silence hummed in the other end of the line for several seconds.

“I don’t know, ‘Chako,” her mother finally admitted in a small voice. Unnerved, Ochako tucked her legs under herself and narrowed her eyes.

“What is it?”

“Your father… His company lost a really, really big building deal.” Ochako gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth in shock. Her mother’s voice shook tremulously as she struggled not to cry, but Ochako could practically hear the fat tears rolling down her cheeks. “He’s been working so hard to score this contract for three months… But the investors went with someone else. It’s already so difficult finding projects in the winter,” her mother lamented woefully. “This was our only shot. I don’t know what we’re going to do, Ochako. The bills are mounting up, and I just… I just…” Her mother trailed off into bitter sobs.

“Mom, it’ll be okay,” Ochako offered weakly. She wanted to help her mother, but the fear crept up, spilling a dreadful cold feeling through every inch of her body. “You know… It always is,” she continued lamely. Ochako struggled to offer encouragement to the weeping woman, but every forced reassurance fell pitifully short. After about five minutes of weak consoling, her mother quietly thanked Ochako for listening and assured her not to worry about her parents’ financial struggles. By this time, her body had gone painfully numb. Ochako couldn’t even feel her limb moving as she slowly lowered her cell phone to the table. She stared down at the half-finished bowl of ramen, and her belly twisted with nausea.

Guilt swept through her like a tidal wave. Sure, she’d gotten the ramen on sale, but she’d still splurged and spent an extra dollar or two on the package. How could she be so selfish when her parents were literally struggling to make ends meet? Shameful tears burned in the corners of her eyes; as they slipped down her cheeks, they felt like lava, searing marks into her skin. She pushed the cup away, no longer able to bear the thought of finishing it. She had no right.

Ochako pressed her face into her palms as sobs gripped her body. “Oh, Mama… Oh, Papa… I’m so sorry!” she cried petulantly. In her anguish, she didn’t think to quiet her crying, and instead wailed openly. Mina’s room was down the hall, and the bubbly pink girl frequently spent her evenings in the first-floor common area, so by all rights, Ochako thought no one would hear her sobbing.

That’s why the light, timid knock at her dorm room door nearly startled her out of her skin.

“Uraraka?” The wood muffled the voice, making it difficult for her to hear who exactly it was, but it sounded like one of the boys. “Uraraka, are you… okay? I heard… I heard you crying.” Ochako shakily stood up and swiped at her face, trying to conceal the evidence of her misery.

“I-I’m coming!” she cried, stumbling over herself to get to the door. In her clumsiness, she banged her shin against the corner of the table. She swallowed a pained squeal and stood there for a second to let the burning pain subside. “J-just a second!” she called, her voice now several octaves higher, as she slowly limped to the door. She tossed her hair from her face as she opened it, forcing a bright, fake grin on her face. “Oh, hey, Tokoyami!” she cheerfully greeted the feathered boy standing at her door.

Fumikage inspected her critically.

“Uh… Are you okay?” Fumikage asked suspiciously. Ochako’s cheesy grin didn’t falter as she leaned casually against the door frame, mentally cursing as her shin flared with pain once more.

“I-I, of course, why wouldn’t I be okay?” she asked with a nervous chuckle. Fumikage’s red eyes looked her up and down, drinking in her very disheveled appearance.

“Uh-huh…” he droned disbelievingly. “Well, I was just at Shoji’s room,” he explained while pointing over his shoulder, “and when I was heading to the stairs, I heard you crying… pretty loud…”

“Are you sure it’s not Mina? She’s been soooooo stressed about the upcoming winter finals.”

“Mina’s downstairs.”

“Ummm, someone’s television could be on…”

“Please stop lying to me, Uraraka. I’d rather you just tell me that you don’t want to talk about it.” Ochako’s plastic smile fell from her face immediately to crash at her feet like porcelain, making her nerves prickle up her legs. Fumikage’s eyes had taken on an irritatedly concerned aura, and it felt like those ruby irises bored straight into her soul. Ochako’s bottom lip wobbled as she stared at him culpably.

I do want to talk about it, she realized sadly. With a troubled sigh, she stepped aside and tiredly gestured for Fumikage to enter. He hesitated a second, jerking as he debated stepping over the threshold, before stiffly walking into the room. Ochako swung the door closed and then walked over to her bed, where she slumped onto it like a bag of lard.

Fumikage leaned against the wall opposite her and crossed his arms, capturing her in an intense but not judgemental gaze. “So, what happened?” Ochako played with her fingers for a minute before answering.

“My parents are having money problems…” she admitted in a tiny voice. “My dad works in construction, and he just lost a huge contract that would’ve floated them through the winter. It’s hard to get work during the winter season because the cold makes construction work difficult… They were really relying on this contract, and now, my mom isn’t sure they’ll be able to make their bills.” Her lips trembled as she slid her teary gaze to the now lukewarm cup of gourmet ramen on her table. “And here I am… splurging my allowance on stupid gourmet ramen while my parents are struggling,” she moped with a sob and buried her face into her hands. “I’m so selfish and greedy!” she wailed.

“Uraraka!” Fumikage cried, and she could hear him stumble forward by the sounds of his unsteady footsteps over the wood floor. Ochako peered through her fingers to find him standing in front of her, hands fluttering around her form but too nervous to actually touch her. Eventually, he grabbed her wrists to gently lower her hands from her face and rest them in her lap. Muted, Ochako allowed the boy to manipulate her body like a puppet, finding a strange comfort in his guiding movements. Fumikage exhaled deeply and sank onto the bed beside her, pressing himself slightly against her in a soothing fashion. “Uraraka… You aren’t selfish or greedy.”

The girl cast another remorseful glance at the cup ramen on the table. Before she could voice opposition, Fumikage gently grabbed her chin and turned her face back to him. A blush crept into her cheeks as his fingers slowly fell from her face in a gentle caress. “You’re not. Your parents’ troubles aren’t your fault, and so you don’t need to punish yourself with guilt over some ramen.” Hearing it out loud solidified how absurd her feelings were, making her snivel. She shifted nervously and looked down at her lap.

“You’re right… How silly of me…”

“It’s not silly,” he objected with a kind smile. When Ochako looked up at him, he turned nervous and twiddled his fingers. “I-I mean, it’s not uncommon to feel bad and shoulder the burdens of your parents…” he explained quickly. “But I’m sure they don’t want you to do that. I’m sure they’d much rather you be smiling and enjoying yourself,” he said with another look into her face. Ochako blinked, surprised by the wisdom of his advice, and then smiled warmly.

“Yeah… You’re right. Thank you,” Ochako said. She genuinely felt a lot better, and she rose from the bed to stretch her arms over her head. “I feel loooooads better!” she crowed. Tokoyami jumped at her sudden outburst, but then chuckled and stood up beside her.

“I’m relieved.”

“You’re so kind for coming to check on me, Tokoyami,” Ochako beamed, clasping her hands behind her back and smiling radiantly at him. Fumikage flushed and nervously shifted his feet with shy mumbles. When he mentioned something about excusing himself, Ochako grabbed the hem of his shirt. “No, no! Please stay. If you’re not doing anything else, of course,” she asked with a flutter of her eyelashes. If his face wasn’t covered in dark black feathers, she was sure his face would be beet-red. “I’ve got another packet of that gourmet ramen. We can share it.”

“What? No, Ochako, I couldn’t-” he began to stammer, but in that moment, Dark Shadow sprang out of him with a delighted squeal.

“Ramen! Ramen!” the shadowy spirit demanded insistently. Ochako giggled and patted the bird-like spirit’s head, then proceeded to prepare two more packets of the ramen for them. Fumikage flapped anxiously around her as she filled the two noodle cups with water.

“O-Ochako, you spent money on that… I simply couldn’t!” he protested. Ochako ignored him as she popped the first one into the microwave.

“Nonsense,” she said while starting the timer. She looked over her shoulder at him with a sweet smile. “You helped me deal with my bad news. Besides, a meal is always better when you have someone to share with!” Fumikage blinked at her, then resigned himself to the situation with an amused smile.

“Yeah. You’re right. Thanks.” Ochako hummed happily, and together, they watched the ramen cup spin slowly around the microwave- but they were too absorbed in trading smiles to count down the seconds.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

Tag List: @deliathedork @sadistiks @wesparklebitch @simplybakugou

#tokochako #platonic tokochako #tokoyami fumikage #fumikage tokoyami #ochako uraraka #uraraka ochako #my hero academia #mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero #mha fanfic #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfic #bnha fanfiction

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veroticker · 5 years ago

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The scene stealer - Renee Harless

Summary (from Renee Harless’s website)

Scene Stealer (noun): an actor who attracts attention when another is intended to be the center of attention.

The glow of fame only casts shadows. The name Devyn Dane was once lit up amongst the stars. Everyone worshiped me. But now, I’m on the edge of darkness. No one warned me about the fall. My crash was lethal. These days I’m nothing more than a forgotten child-star with a tainted reputation.

Redemption is what I need. When a chance is handed to me, I vow not to blow it—I can’t. This could launch me back to stardom. But nothing is given freely in Hollywood. Everything comes with a price. This time, mine is a bombshell waitress battling insecurities deep enough to rival even my own.

The resilient Larsen is a mystery I can’t wait to unravel. Her brokenness makes me feel not so alone. But together, we are a complete mess that should never work. I know it, Hollywood knows it, and someone is Hell-bent on making sure we don’t beat the odds.

I truly believed she was my ally. An added boost on my rise back to fame. But the shine of Hollywood masks many things. She broke my focus, pulling me away from the most important goal.

That’s the thing with a scene stealer – you never see them coming.

Blurb

““Cut,” the director shouts from his position behind the camera after one of the production assistants rushes to his side, the quiet on the set quickly overtaken by the onlookers’ rising voices. I’ll never admit to anyone on the set how much I had been craving to end the scene. My vision is blurry from another night of binging on alcohol. Tessa has been trying to talk me into admitting myself into another rehab center, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I promised her I would find a new outlet – a safer way to let myself numb the pain. I traded stardom for drugs, then drugs for alcohol. My parents were the first things to go, that one was easy. But if left to my vices, I may not have anything to fall back on.

“Devyn.” The production assistant wipes his palms against his pants a few times as he approaches, trying to wick away any of the residual moisture. The squeaking of his sneakers on the concrete flooring pings against my growing headache. By his downcast eyes and sweaty palms, I can assume that he’s a fan of mine. I don’t see as many fans as I used to, girls and boys crying at every encounter when I was younger, but I do occasionally run into one on set when they grew up watching my show.

“Hey, Kenny.”

Stunned, the kid looks at me in awe; his eyes wide like coffee cup saucers against his oblong face. “You. . .you know my name?”

I begin to nod, but quickly I realize that the motion was a bad idea. It takes only a second for a roll of nausea to flip my stomach, and I have to bite back my curse to rush back to the small dressing room where I’ve hidden a bottle of vodka from everyone.

“You okay, Mr. Dane?”

My lips pull back in what I hope resembles a smile, but I’m certain is more of a sneer if the kid’s surprised expression is any indication.

“I’m fine, just hungry,” I point out by placing a hand on my stomach, though the thought of food elicits another wave of nausea in my gut. I suggest Kenny and I walk to the Craft table for a snack. I hope that a few carbohydrates and starches will settle my stomach.

“So, Kenny, what can I do for you?”

The kid stares at me as if I’ve grown two heads, but luckily his momentary lapse in judgment doesn’t last too long. I’ve always hated awkward silence, quickly followed by a forced conversation.

“Sorry. I was sent to tell you that your presence has been requested at The Film Festival in Lake Tahoe in two months. They’re going to premiere the film there.

”His request actually catches me by surprise. “Will it be finished and edited in time?”

“Definitely. I mean, we’re only working on reshoots right now. Most of the film is already complete.”

A film festival. My chance to make my debut back into the public eye. My chance to show everyone that I’m not the screw up they claim me to be.

“Cool, I should be able to make it work. Did you check with my personal assistant, Tessa? She knows my schedule better than anyone.

”Kenny blanches at my question and I can tell that he failed to speak with her. Normally I wouldn’t care, but Tessa runs a tight ship; even more so since I promised to end the nightly parties and blackouts, and to get my life back on track. I haven’t exactly been keeping up my end of the bargain.

Resting a hand lightly on his shoulder, I try to reassure him, if only to ease my own conscience. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll let her know. I need to check in with her anyway.

”The assistant visibly relaxes as he releases a sigh. “Thanks, Mr. Dane.”

“No sweat, Kenny. Do you know when we need to be back on set?”

“In fifteen.”

“Catch ya then.”

Two croissants from the table beckon me and I shove the buttery pastries into my mouth so fervently that the flaky crumbs feather down my black T-shirt. I walk toward the direction of the dressing room using the back of my hand to wipe away the crumbs on my chest. With my eyes cast downward, I miss the claw-like hand that reaches out for my arm to try and stop my movements. Her nails dig into my bicep as I keep walking and she’s forced to keep up at my pace.

“Devyn, I wanted to speak with you about the next scene they want to reshoot.”

Without glancing in her direction, I continue toward the dressing room trailer. “Uh-huh.” My goal completely set on finding that bottle of vodka I tucked behind the makeup artist’s bag under the counter.”

(review under the cut)

Review

(audiobook) I greatly enjoyed this one! It was sweet and sexy, with a bit of suspense and lots of swoony moments. From small town to big city, from bowling night to shooting day, there was a bit of everything. A good recipe for an interesting book.

Devyn, who drowns his sorrow in alcohol, and Larsen, whose body shows the scars of a terrible past, make a beautiful couple. If it wasn’t for the whole “we come from two different worlds” thing, their story would have been boring. That’s how good they are together.

Of course, it couldn’t be so easy. They encounter many obstacles--press eager to paint her as a monster, fake relationship for publicity, threatening letters from an anonymous enemy. Will they stay together in the end? You’ll have to read the book to know.

The book was read by a male and a female narrators, and they were gooooood. They certainly help with the whole experience.

Some things could have been better written--like the subplot about Devyn’s parents, or the interview-that-never-was (I’d like to know how they pulled it off)--but I still liked this cliché story of a Hollywood star and the waitress.

Quickie

Series: standalone

Hashtags: #hollywood star romance #insta-love #damaged #suspense

Triggers: mention of bullying, a couple of accidents with light description

Main couple: Larsen Scott & Devyn Dane

Hotness: 4/5

Romance: 4/5

+ love letters, so romantic!

- I’d have liked to see more of Devyn’s parents

Stalker mode

You can suscribe to Renee Harless’s newsletter on her website.

You can also follow her on Facebook.

#Renee Harless #The scene stealer #contemporary romance #hollywood star romance

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t1np · 6 years ago

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Células madres (stem cells, I like the spanish translation more)

Remember that month or two ago when I said I wasn’t hopeful about cure research? Perhaps I spoke too soon. The lab of Matthias Hebrok at UCSF specializes in stem cell research. They have figured out how to better create insulin producing and glucose sensitive Beta-cells from stem cells. The article was published in the journal Nature February 2019, volume 21 and is titled “Recapitulating endocrine cell clustering in culture promotes maturation of human stem-cell-derived Beta cells” in case you’re interested. If you dig around you can find a full and free article.

The main difference assessed between the cells they were able to produce and prior beta cell models was the presence of scaffolding that allowed the cells to mature more fully. The consequences of this maturation were significant. The highlights as I see them are below:

They definitively prove that the issue of clustering the endocrine cells leads to more fully matured cells or what they call in the article enhanced beta cells or eBCs. They prove this on a number of levels: through testing glucose sensitivity, I.e: these cells produce insulin at high glucose concentrations and stop at low levels. The also prove this by looking at genetic markers of mature beta cells. The genetic markers of mature cells are present in the eBCs. There are also smaller amounts of so called “disallowed genes” that interfere with cells ability to produce/decrease insulin in response to glucose levels. Cheers to the Aggrewells-400s they used to create happy little beta cell houses.

The eBC cells are functional after transplantation within 3 days! Up to now the beta cells formed from stem cells have required 2-6 weeks following transplantation to become functional. These are far more functional in insulin production and faster than all other man-made beta cells. Boom!

When tested in mice with diabetes induced by treatment with STZ (streptozotocin) the eBC stem cell grafts were able to keep the mice blood sugars under control. The blood sugars of the group of mice without the grafts unsurprisingly, went super high.

The grafts were happy and healthy in the mice bodies after 8 months. Up to now beta stem cell grafts have turned into messy disorganized blobs after just 3 months. The eBCs more closely resemble functional Beta cell tissue.

So the eBC grafts are better, faster acting and lasting than all others to date in an in-vivo model.

That is GD exciting.

Some things I’m concerned about

The potential of growing cancerous tumors instead of beta cells d/t incomplete filtering of cells. Stem cells, due to their very magical nature can turn into all sorts of things. The stakes are then raised when these cells are filtered for a very specific purpose. That filtering better be GOOOOOOD.

When will this get approved, especially in the US? The only current FDA approved use of stem cells are hematopoietic progenitor cells to treat certain cancers and blood disorders. These cells have been studied for therapy for roughly 50 years. As much hype there has been around stem cells, as therapy, it’s still in early stages. The article discussed an 8 month study of efficacy but we’ll need more than that, in more than mice for clinical trials to begin. Which is just step one of the process. Given the cost of type 1 in the United States it could possibly be moved along faster.

In the article they discuss the 2 phases of insulin production. The first being the immediate insulin release directly from beta cell stores that happens when we eat. Apparently eBCs produce lower levels of insulin than adult beta cells. The second phase of insulin delivery in eBCs is also not sustained. Reading the article I was unclear if this was a good or bad thing but I imagine that the second release is also important for blood sugar regulation. These glitches I’m less worried about than the former two but it does give me some pause. Though I guess beta cells on the struggle bus are better than what I’ve currently got going on.

So that’s my summary but check it out for yourself!

https://www.nature.com/articles/s41556-018-0271-4

I take some joy in the fact that just like you can’t manage diabetes on your own, Beta cells can’t get where they’re going without being clustered together and snuggling. Cheers to getting support, holding on to hope and giving the deuces to T1d!

Also, cheers to all these people who hang out long lonely hours in a lab to figure things out and babysit fussy cells and make magic like this happen. Specially the middle authors cause we know you did most of the grunt work:

Gopika G. Nair, Jennifer S. Liu, Holger A. Russ, Stella Tran, Michael S. Saxton, Richard Chen, Charity Juang, Mei-lan Li, Vinh Q. Nguyen, Simone Giacometti, Sapna Puri, Yuan Xing, Yong Wang, Gregory L. Szot, Jose Oberholzer, Anil Bhushan & Matthias Hebrok

References: Nair, G., et al. Recapitulating endocrine cell clustering in culture promotes maturation of human stem-cell-derived Beta cells. Nature, Cell Biology 21, 263-274 (2019).

#type1diabetes #type1cure #stemcell #beta cells

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juuls · 3 years ago

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Fabulous recs, new friend!

See under the cut for my manic, "it's too late and I've had 3 hours of sleep in 72 hours" blathering-to-someone-I've-never-actually-met-because-I-just... do that sometimes. *wince*

These look really great, and along with everyone else's and my own searches, I've amassed an embarrassment of riches -- and I love it. I've read a couple of these, but some I never knew existed even though they look exactly like the thing I love (mind you, I was a bit... compromised at the time, and distracted). For Chained, I was just a bad friend to @carasstarwarsmusings and never read it even though I'm looking at it now and it looks so gooooood! Cara honey, I'm totally going to read that one. I must. muah! muah! muah!

Do you know if JJBattleX has a Tumblr handle (I do know the others')? I never read Mos' (@thejediskywalker, though on hiatus still I think) fic though its description sounds like it was ripped right out of my "favourite fics of all time" searches. xD It sounds awesome, as does Grey, which I haven't read yet either (and Chained, which we established). And as some others mentioned Moon Sun Star, I'm definitely finally reading it. I didn't want to accidentally steal anything from @silvershiner as I was writing Delicious Ambiguity (thank you for the compliment!! <3) at the time they were posting MSS (DA was originally posted 2 months after they finished MSS). Then, of course, I wasn't 'allowed' to read SW fic, and crap like that, and just never got around to it.

This is why I'm relishing in the chance to throw myself in a swimming pool filled to the brim with TFA fics I missed the first time around. I'm coming alive again, and I LOVE it.

But yeah I just want to be sure to get the Tumblr handles correct (or a Twitter if need be) so I can properly link/credit when I post my rec list!

Right now it's standing at... hah, like 70 fics, maybe a bit less if I include links to just the first in a couple series. I've read a fair portion of them, but am adoring reading them again with what feel like fresh eyes.

4 years of freedom as of Sunday! ^_^

Anyway, hah. Thank you and others for the recs I've received so far! I've also been digging and contributing ones I've read and loved to bits and ones I've admired from afar for a long time. :) I'm looking forward to putting together the rec list! But it's nowhere near done enough for my tastes.... plus I gotta actually read some of the ones I'm unfamiliar with, hah!

I'll include more of my faves later, but from the beginning these were just... it for me. These especially have stuck with me through all these long years.

Forms by Trebia by @avenrue

In My Bloodstream by @elliecarina

Breaking Point by Alania by @every-day-is-star-wars-day

But truly! Thank you again for telling me you rec DA! Gosh, that makes me so happy. Heals and soothes. Brings a smile to my very very tired face which is about to go smoosh into a pillow in T- minus...

zzzzzzzZZZtttzzzz

Hey Reylos!

Some of y’all may know me as Juulna from AO3. Hi!

With the help of my bestie @perrydowning (ily babe) I’ve been trying to get back into the TFA mindset of Reylo. For one, I miss it, and TFA also offers me few memories of things I’d rather forget with the ex. I’m also trying to hype myself up for starting Act II of Codega, which is post-TFA to a fault and it’s been so long that I’ve gotten out of practice!

Perry has already given me a handful of great TFA, Alt-TFA, TFA-divergent, and post-TFA fics (some written after the other movies but ignoring them entirely) but I’m not particular to non-SW universe AUs. Canonverse only please. :)

So I ask you! What are some of the fics you love—big or small, known or not, whatever rating—that brings out the absolute love of The Force Awakens, and the glee you felt upon watching that first forest meeting… out in you?

If you lend me some aid, perhaps I’ll spill and reveal the absolute favourites that have stuck with me through the years. ;)

Then I’ll put them all into one of my semi-famous rec lists for everyone to enjoy the TFA celebration!

Help an old 2015 Reylo out! Friends, lend me your TFA recs! Get me HYPED again!!!

Bonus points for the cowl. Lord.

#replies #fic recs #reylo #star wars #other people's recs #reylux #omg a hamtaro gif #had to use it when i saw it hahaha #it's perf #ANYWAY KEEP BRINGING IN THE RECS Y'ALL #I am just eating them UP!#tfa #the force awakens #and the others if you want ;)

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heymaukarena · 8 years ago

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I’ve been obsessed with the idea of Grog being taken over by Craven Edge pretty much since the damn thing was introduced, and after talking with @nomercivalpercival endlessly I had to write it, I have been sitting on this for months because I wrote it once and it ended at the wrong point.

I tried to take the speaking bits at the beginning from the actual episode, I may have missed a few bits though

I am a terrible person but writing this made me so happy, I love painful angst

Huuuungryyy

Grog tensed, feeling something cold crawling up his arms and into his chest, he struggles to breathe for a second or two as he tries to figure out what the fuck is happening. It’s been a long time since he felt like this, way back in the Underdark and the floating eyeball. He sags as the cold starts to fade, heat working back into his muscles as he looks down at Craven Edge. Was it smaller? It looked it…

Feeeeed….. Nooooooow

“I don’t- I don’t have anything to feed you-”

Fiiind something

Ugh. “Alright, alright, alright…” He looks up, finally taking his attention from the sword, realising that everyone was now staring at him. Shit. He almost looks guilty at being caught out, catching himself and looking at Vex in confusion. “What?… Eeeey-”

“Who you talking to, Grog?”

Its weird how easy it was to lie to them now. Normally Pike or Vex looking at him like this was enough to have him spilling his guts. It almost makes him feel bad. “I’m so hungry, my stomach’s rumbling.” He almost puts a hand on his stomach to play along with his own lies while Vex looks at him sympathetically. “Maybe I’m just-”

“Can we have our cold pack of food?!”

Grog takes Scanlan’s hopeful comment as a good distraction, dropping out of the conversation to look back at the blade resting on his legs. It had taken to long to get it looking all big and pointy, so much blood to make it look even more badass. All that work, gone. A little breather and everything was gone. His eyes still ached from the lack of sleep, his muscles pulsing in protest now the strength he’d taken had gone. He felt…… Hungry.

“-You’re stomach the boar meat?” Vex was looking at him again.

“What- My Stomach?” That’s not what he was-

“Yeah, you hungry?” He looked across at Pike, still finding it difficult to shake the image of her stuck on the end of his sword.

“Yeah I’m- I-, I would not turn down some delicious boar.” This time his hands did find their way to his stomach, he needed to eat, the quicker he did, the quicker he could go find something for Craven Edge…

He didn’t join in with the conversations while he ate, too focused on the whispering voice in his head, trying to shake off the cold that was creeping back in even though the blade wasn’t in his hands anymore. He could vaguely hear everyone talking around him, asking if they should be moving on again. He had to- He couldn’t wait any longer. Grog grabbed Craven Edge again, the voices of his friends being replaced by a rapidly growing buzzing noise.

Sooooo huuuunngry

There had to be something….

Feeeeeeed

He had to- He needed to-

I am HUNGRY

Kill. Kill him. Scanlan is the next thing he sees. Bright red and choking, pulling at the pale hands digging into his neck. Yeeeeesssss Yeah. Kill him…. He was so hungry… He knew how to fix that. The sound came back then, a blur of voices and screaming but it was the gasping and gagging from the little Gnome that made him tighten his grip just a little more. This would fix it.

“GROG!” “Holy shit- Get him off!!” “SCANLAN!”

He tensed, heard a gurgling that might have been his name cut off as something cracked. The little thing in his hands sagging, the fingers that had been clawing red marks into his arms falling away.

Come, I still hunger

That was when the screaming started, barely registering as the Goliath pushed himself to his feet, carelessly dropping the limp Gnome into the snow as he looked around for Craven Edge, the shadows twisting off to the side finally tipped him off.

Someone was playing with his toys.

The dagger that sank into his shoulder as he turned away didn’t distract him as he pushed through the snow. He wanted his sword.

“Grog, what the fuck is wrong with you?! Snap out of it! Percy-”

No one should be fucking with Craven Edge. That sword belonged to him.

Another dagger planted itself in his calf, making him stumble until he caught himself and tried to press on regardless of the pain burning up his leg. He’d just managed to get his stride back when an arrow found the wound on his shoulder from the previous dagger strike, the tip grinding painfully into the bone and making him bare his teeth in a snarl. The rage was easy to find, made it easier to ignore the voices as Grog pushed himself into a sprint, determined to get to his sword. He didn’t pay attention to people he once called family as they told him to back off, they wanted to take something important from him, take away the only thing that mattered to him anymore. He only just managed to get his hand around the hilt as he skidded to a stop, the momentum ripping it from where it had been wedged into the ground.

Gooooood, now we can feast

He turned himself round, ready to rip someone apart when an angry little Gnome planted a mace in his gut and knocked him breathless for a moment. The pain from the blow barely registered with his rage blurring everything but the hunger from Craven Edge and the desire to hurt. Grog grinned and surged forward with Craven Edge, the blade finding the jagged tear it had made in the armour during their last fight, sliding easily into the still scarred flesh. The Goliath watched as the blood bubbled from the wound and a small trickle spilled down over the breastplate before everything else was greedily sucked into the blade, a drawn out hum of satisfaction echoed in his head as he twisted his wrist to open the wound further.

I knew you would be the one to satisfy my hunger, Grog Strongjaw

The strength seeped back into his muscles, Craven Edge wasn’t the only one who’d been waiting for this. There was still a long way to go but he didn’t feel as pitiful, as weak, as he had done after his rest, this was a step in the right direction at least. He’d been so distracted watching the blade feast that everyone else had been forgotten, it wasn’t until a searing pain in his already damaged shoulder that he remembered he still had a fight on his hands. He tore his eyes away from Craven Edge to look at the damage, having to adjust him grip as the blow had almost made him drop the blade, his shoulder had been blasted open, flesh gaping over ruined muscle and bone while blood poured down his arm and back, soaking into the fur of his belt and gauntlet.

He’d been so distracted watching the blade feed that he didn’t register someone taking another hit against him until he felt the searing pain in his already damaged shoulder, almost making him drop Craven Edge. Finally he tore his gaze away from the sword and looked at the damage he’d taken from the hit, the flesh on his shoulder had been blasted open, a large chunk missing and a bit of bone showing through the ruined muscle, blood now pouring down his arm and soaking into the fur on his gauntlet. He looked passed the damage to find the source of the hit, settling on the human who’d been messing with his sword. It was all too easy to listen to the whispers in his head, urging him to teach him a lesson for sticking his pasty nose where it wasn’t wanted.

Ignoring the near blinding pain in his shoulder Grog hefted his sword into the air, grinning at the wet gurgle as the Gnome slid further onto the blade in her gut. He gripped the hilt hard with both hands and brought it down quickly, hoping he could throw the little body off the blade and right at the one who shot him, as cool as it looked she’d only slow him down. It was a little disappointing when she just slid off and thumped into a limp pile on the snow in front of him, still alive though, if the harsh breathing was anything to go by, she was a tough little thing. Not wanting to waste anymore time, he stepped forward, straight onto the prone body on the ground, hearing the popping of bones and a harsh yell of pain as the armour buckled under his weight.

Let us take them apart, make them fear us while we feed

The rage burned brighter and Grog launched himself forward with a frenzied roar, letting the hunger take hold as he lost himself in the fight once again.

The first one to go down was the Ranger, he almost cut her in half when she failed to scramble away from him in time. Closely followed by her brother who’d gotten careless once the other one stopped moving, he got in too close with the daggers and hadn’t been able to dodge the heavy hit of the hilt that caved in his skull. It took him a lot longer to finish the other two, pure spite driving them after seeing the rest of their family die. He finally got the other woman, getting her in a hold and taking advantage of the antlers to wrench her head to the side with a satisfying crunch. For the human, the one who’d messed with Craven Edge, he had wanted to take his time and make it last but eventually settled on forcing the sword through his mouth, seemed like a good end to someone who liked to mouth off so much.

The fight had taken its toll on him too, bloody holes had been torn into him by those damn bullets, the one in his gut was the worst, he was sure he could see stuff he shouldn’t be seeing and one of his legs was almost useless since that sneaky half-elf had tried to hamstring him. He was a mess and it was only the strength he’d managed to absorb that kept him on his feet while he raided what was left of the campsite for any left over potions or food, for anything at this point, anything to stop the hollow ache, to stop the whispers that clawed at his mind and echoed in his ears.

Huuuungryyy....

#Critical role #Grog Strongjaw #Craven Edge #my writing #I want to be sorry but I can't this was so much fun to write #good god I left this too long I kinda forgot how Craven Edge speaks #I know they go down quickly I found it really hard to write the fighting stuff #I love them all even though I'm killing them and I'm not good at fight scenes to begin with

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RUSH IT (1977)

COMEDY LEGEND HENNY “TAKE MY WIFE, PLEASE” YOUNGMAN HAS A SON NAMED GARY. I’M GONNA GO OUT ON A LIMB AND SAY THAT GARY WAS ONE OF THOSE FREE-SPIRITED CELEBRITY KIDS OF THE 1960s/70s, YOU KNOW THE KIND. AN AGITATOR, EVER PLAYING HIS PAN FLUTE FOR THE PEOPLE, JUST HIM AND HIS TRUST FUND AGAINST THE WORLD. THE WORLD, IN GARY’S CASE, WAS NEW YORK CITY. BUT OFF-OFF BROADWAY WASN’T HIS BAG, SO GARY CROSSED OVER INTO FILMMAKING. OLD MAN YOUNGMAN GAVE HIM THE GREEN LIGHT, LINED UP THE FINANCIERS AND GARY SHOT RUSH IT WITH ALL HIS NEW YORK ACTOR FRIENDS, IN HOPES OF USING THE MATERIAL LIKE A 78-MINUTE TALENT REEL. THE CAST INCLUDES FUTURE HOLLYWOOD HEAVYWEIGHTS LIKE TOM BERENGER (THE BIG CHILL), JOHN HEARD (CUTTER’S WAY) AND JILL EIKENBERRY (TV’s “L.A. LAW”). AFTER VIACOM ACQUIRED RIGHTS TO THE FILM, RUSH IT PLAYED A LOT ON MOVIE CHANNELS LIKE SHOWTIME. THE SOLE VIDEO RELEASE OF RUSH IT CAME IN THE FORM OF A BIG OL’ CLAMSHELL VHS FROM UNICORN VIDEO, MARKETED AFTER TOM BERENGER’S CAREER TOOK OFF. I TRACKED DOWN A COPY OF THE TAPE AT EDDIE BRANDT’S SATURDAY MATINEE.

RUSH IT IS ABOUT A CAREFREE FEMALE BIKE MESSENGER (JUDY KAHAN) MAKING HER WAY IN THE CITY. SHE’S GOT THAT QUASI-ANNOYING ANNIE HALL THING GOING ON, IF A LITTLE MORE JEWISH AND, WELL, BASICALLY HARMLESS BECAUSE SHE’S IN HER TWENTIES AND ISN’T ANYONE’S MOTHER YET. SHE RIDES AROUND MANHATTAN IN A DUMB HAT, SMILING AT EVERYTHING WHILE BUZZY LINHART’S EBULLIENT SONGS BLAST OVER THE SOUNDTRACK. COULD BE WORSE. I MEAN, THE WORLD DIDN’T COMPLETELY SUCK BACK THEN. SURE, WE THOUGHT IT DID. OH, DID WE EVER! WE THOUGHT IT WAS OVER, MAN. THE SIXTIES WERE OVER. THE SIXTIES WERE GREAT! THE SEVENTIES WERE FAR WORSE. THESE WERE THE POST-WATERGATE YEARS. NEW YORK WAS ONE BROKE-ASS TOILET, AND YET IT WAS KIND OF MAGICAL, TOO.

DISCLAIMER: NO ONE WHO APPEARS IN RUSH IT WAS EVER A BIKE MESSENGER. REAL BIKE MESSENGERS DON’T KICK THEIR FEET UP WHILE TRAVERSING DANGEROUS METROPOLITAN TERRAIN, THEY RUN RED LIGHTS, FLIP STRANGERS THE BIRD AND DRINK FORTIES IN THE PARK. IF ANYONE HAS ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT THAT, A GANG OF THESE CATS WILL APPEAR OUT OF NOWHERE, UNBUCKLE THE SEATBELT STRAPS ON THEIR MESSENGER BAGS, MOVE FOR THEIR CHAIN WALLETS AND REENACT A SCENE FROM THE ‘96 X-GAMES. REMEMBER PUCK FROM MTV’s “THE REAL WORLD”? THAT’S A FUCKING BIKE MESSENGER! INCORRIGIBLE, UNREPENTANT B.Y.O.B. PUNKHOUSE SNOTROCKET RASCALS.

“How ‘bout a date tonight, bimbo?”

THIS LUNATIC PLAYS THE PERVED-OUT DISPATCHER AT THE MESSENGER SERVICE. APPARENTLY JOE SPINELL WAS NOT AVAILABLE FOR THE ROLE, SO GARY CAST SOME ELEVATOR MAN WITH A CHECKERED PAST INVOLVING MANY INCIDENTS OF PUBLIC MASTURBATION. HE’S THE MOST AUTHENTIC SLICE OF THE APPLE IN THIS TURKEY. WHY CAN’T THE MOVIE BE ABOUT HIS TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS? LET’S FOLLOW HIM AROUND WHILE HE’S HAGGLING OVER THE PRICE OF A PAPAYA AT HIS LOCAL BODEGA OR CHECKING OUT THE SNATCH ON 42nd STREET.

HERE’S TOM BERENGER DOING HIS BEST BOTICELLI POSE FOR SOME LITTLE CHINA GIRL. BERENGER’S CHARACTER IS A STALLION WHO PREYS ON CITY CHICKS WITH HIS LOOKS, ESCHEWING ALL STRINGS IN THE CLASSIC LOVE ‘EM AND LEAVE ‘EM STYLE. HIS PREFERENCE, ADMITTEDLY, IS FOR “MORE MATURE WOMEN... ESPECIALLY MARRIED ONES.” YEP, IN THE END, HE’S JUST A GIGOLO. OH, BUT WHAT HE REALLY WANTS TO BE IS A FAMOUS PAINTER!

BERENGER TRIES TO PICK UP JUDY, BUT SHE’S HIP TO HIS ACT AND SPEEDS OFF ON HER BIANCHI. THEN SHE BUMPS INTO AN OLD BOYFRIEND, SOME SUIT WITH A FOXY ITALIAN BROAD ON HIS ARM. JUDY CALLS HIM A HEEL AND KEEPS ON PUSHING. SHE DELIVERS SOME SHIT TO SOME ECCENTRIC IDIOTS, INCLUDING A DRUGGED-OUT TALENT AGENT (ANTHONY HOLLAND, ALL THAT JAZZ) AND GAGGLE OF SUFFRAGETTES WHO’VE BEEN CRYOGENICALLY FROZEN IN A GREENWICH VILLAGE APARTMENT SINCE 1917. JUDY TAKES A BREAK AND GOES HOME. HER PAD HAS SOME FABULOUS TOKENS OF SEVENTIES SINGLE GIRL CHIC, INCLUDING HANGING HOUSE PLANTS, CINDER BLOCK BOOK SHELVES AND FRAMED PICTURES OF JANE AUSTIN. SHE RECEIVES A VISIT FROM HER NEIGHBOR, BYRON (JOHN HEARD), WHO’S JAZZED ON SOME GIRL HE JUST MET. JUDY AND BYRON ARE PLATONIC FRIENDS BECAUSE JUDY, WE’RE LEARNING, IS KIND OF A DYKE; NOT SO MUCH IN THE SEXUAL SENSE, BUT IN THE CULTURAL ONE. SHE’S TOTALLY FINE BEING ONE OF THE GUYS UNTIL THE RIGHT ONE COMES ALONG.

THE SUMMER I EXCAVATED RUSH IT FROM THE TOMB-LIKE STACKS AT EDDIE BRANDT’S, I WAS OBSESSED WITH THE ACTOR JOHN HEARD’S EARLY CAREER. IT STARTED WHEN I SAW HIM IN CHILLY SCENES OF WINTER, THEN GREW WITH BETWEEN THE LINES AND CUTTER’S WAY, THEN CONTINUED ON THROUGH A SLEW OF EXEMPLARY ROLES IN NOT-SO-GREAT FLICKS LIKE FIRST LOVE, ON THE YARD, BEST REVENGE, HEART BEAT, AND CAT PEOPLE. DUDE HAD CHOPS, CHARM AND AN IRRESISTIBLY SELF-EFFACING WIT. BY THE TIME HE WAS CAST AS JACK KEROUAC IN HEART BEAT, STARRING OPPOSITE NICK NOLTE AND SISSY SPACEK, HEARD WAS WELL ON HIS WAY TO BECOMING A LEADING MAN. BUT I SUSPECT HE NEVER FELT COMFORTABLE WITH THE HOLLYWOOD MACHINE, HAVING COME OUT OF THE LESS BULLSHIT-Y WORLD OF NEW YORK THEATER. IN THE EARLY EIGHTIES, HEARD ATE AND DRANK HIMSELF OUT OF THE RUNNING. THANKS TO THIS SELF-SABOTAGE, TODAY HEARD IS BEST KNOWN TO THE IDIOTS WHO COMPRISE 99% OF THE MOVIE-GOING PUBLIC FOR PLAYING MACAULEY CULKIN’S DAD IN THE HOME ALONE FLICKS.

BYRON INVITES JUDY TO SOME GET-TOGETHER AT HIS GIRLFRIEND’S PAD. MERRILL (JILL EIKENBERRY) IS A SECRETARY, ER, ADMINISTRATIVE ASSISTANT WHO’S REAL HUNG UP ON THAT POST-ROTHKO ABSTRACT SHIT AND ITS MARK ON THE THEN-EMERGING BOURGEOIS HOBBY KNOWN AS DECORATING. FROM THIS INTRODUCTION ONWARD, WE HAVE NO IDEA WHAT BYRON SEES IN MERRILL. HE SHOULD REALLY JUST GO FOR JUDY, WHO WEARS OVERALLS TO PARTIES AND IS CLEARLY A GAS.

JUDY MEETS A CHARMING 28-YEAR-OLD JEW NAMED MARK, WHO’S, OF ALL THINGS, A DENTIST. WOW! EDGY! SO THIS GUY STARTS PULLING A LOT OF NUMBERS WITH JUDY, AND SHE’S KINDA DIGGIN’ IT. THEY MINGLE AND GET COZY. THE COMBINATION OF GOD’S EYE AND CARLO ROSSI IN THE ABOVE FRAME IS FABULOUS.

MARK’S “BLEEPER” GOES OFF, AN EMERGENCY BACK AT THE OFFICE, AND HE LEAVES JUDY WITH A SEMI.

THEN MERRILL MENTIONS TO JUDY THAT MARK IS MARRIED. JUDY’S LOOKING GOOOOOOD IN THOSE OVERALLS, AIN’T SEE? I WONDER IF LENA DUNHAM EVER SAW THIS MOVIE.

THE NEXT MORNING, BYRON COMES OVER TO GET A RECAP OF JUDY’S EVENING. THE USZH, SHE’S STILL 25 AND SINGLE.

THIS IS WHAT A DOOR IS SUPPOSED TO LOOK LIKE. IF YOU’RE UNDER 30 AND THE DOORWAY OF YOUR BIG CITY APARTMENT DOESN’T LOOK LIKE THIS, YOU’RE WASTING YOUR PARENT’S MONEY. THIS BARE BONES ASSEMBLAGE IS ALL YOU NEED TO PARTY LIKE A TRUE BELIEVER: OLD TERMITE-INFESTED WOOD PAINTED A MILLION TIMES OVER, QUESTIONABLY SECURE, DIRTY AND DELIGHTFUL. MY OLD SPOT LOOKED LIKE THIS. THEN I MOVED. NOW, FOR A MERE $1,000 MORE A MONTH, I GOT ONE OF THEM NEW CHINESE JOBS MADE OUT OF RECYCLED AMERICAN REFUSE AND PARTICLE BOARD, PLASTIC WINDOW SLATS FROM HOME DEPOT (ALSO MADE IN CHINA!), THE WHOLE PATHETIC PACKAGE.

BYRON’S NEW GIRL STARTS GETTING UPPITY ABOUT BYRON’S ASSOCIATION WITH JUDY. JUST WHAT TYPE OF PERSON CHOOSES TO BECOME A BIKE MESSENGER, PRAY TELL? BYRON REVEALS JUDY HAS HER MASTER’S DEGREE, SHE’S JUST DOING THE BIKE GIG COS HER DEGREE IS TOTALLY WORTHLESS AND IT’S FUN RIDING A BIKE IN A CITY YOU CAN SMILE AT COS YOU REFUSE TO BELIEVE THAT ALL MEN ARE RAPISTS, DESPITE CONVENTIONAL WISDOM AND SECOND WAVE FEMINISM STATING OTHERWISE.

BACK AT THE BIKE SHOP, THESE TWO JOES PRACTICE THEIR HIGH NOTES FOR SOME FUTURE “CATS” AUDITION.

JUDY SPOTS BUZZY LINHART BUSKING. ALRIGHT! BUZZY KNOWS WHERE IT’S AT.

BERENGER FINALLY GETS THE BEST OF JUDY. HE WRITES HIS NUMBER ON HER BACK AND TELLS HER TO CALL HIM. THAT NIGHT, SHE HAS TO READ IT IN A MIRROR AND INVERT THE DIGITS. TWICE SHE CALLS THE WRONG NUMBER, FIRST IT’S SOME PEPE PERSON AND THEN A PHILIPINO WITH CATFISH WHISKERS. SO JUDY AND BERENGER GO OUT AND BALL. PRETTY SOON, THEY’RE AN ITEM.

BERENGER SHOWS JUDY HIS WORK. HE’S INTERRUPTED BY THE TELEPHONE. IT’S TOM’S OF FINLAND CALLING, ASKING WHERE THE SAILOR’S CAP WENT.

BERENGER TELLS JUDY A BUNCH OF SHIT ABOUT WHAT A SHITTY, SELF-ABSORBED PERSON HE IS -- JUST A SLAVE TO THE MUSE, MAN. BUT HE’S A STALLION, SO JUDY DIGS HIS FEARLESS HONESTY AND ACCEPTS BERENGER IN SPITE OF HIS MANY SHORTCOMINGS.

BERENGER ALSO TELLS JUDY HE’S BROKE AND MIGHT BE MOVING TO PENNSYLVANIA TO LIVE ON A FARM WITH AN AMISH COUPLE HE MET AT NIAGARA FALLS. THAT IS, UNLESS JUDY WILL LET HIM MOVE HIS ART STUDIO INTO HER APARTMENT.

MORE SUPERFLUOUS BERENGER PORN.

JUDY BUMPS INTO BYRON OUTSIDE THEIR BUILDING. HE’S WEARING A SUIT, WHICH INDICATES HE HAS A REAL JOB, PROBABLY IN AN OFFICE WHERE THE EXECS WITH THE GRAYING SIDEBURNS DRINK ALL DAY AND GRAB-ASS WITH THE LITTLE CHIQUITAS IN THE TYPING POOL.

BACK AT HER PLACE, JUDY RAPS TO BYRON ABOUT HER NEW STUD AND HOW TO KEEP HIM. BYRON SUGGESTS A FAKE PREGNANCY.

THEN, APROPOS OF NOTHING, BYRON DOES A REALLY BAD BRANDO IMPRESSION. THIS IS IN NO WAY INDICATIVE OF JOHN HEARD’S TALENT AS AN ACTOR.

BERENGER COMES OVER AND STARTS MOVING JUDY’S STUFF AROUND. JUDY DIGS BERENGER’S TAKE-CHARGE ATTITUDE.

BYRON AND MERRILL HELP MOVE THE REST OF BERENGER’S SHIT OVER. JUDY, MEANWHILE, IS GROWING WARY OF BERENGER’S OPPORTUNISM.

THE NEXT EVENING, BYRON AND MERRILL INVITE JUDY AND BERENGER OVER FOR SUPPER. BERENGER WEARS SOME GONDOLIER’S SHIRT WITH A FUCKING POCKET ON THE ARM FOR HIS SMOKES. AFTER SOME WINE, MERRILL STARTS HITTING ON BERENGER. SHE ASKS HIM IF HE’LL DIG HER PAINTINGS AND LET HER KNOW WHAT HE THINKS. THEY REALLY SUCK. NO ONE SAYS THAT, BUT OF COURSE THEY DO. THEN MERRILL ASKS BERENGER IF HE GIVES PRIVATE LESSONS.

BACK AT WORK, JUDY DELIVERS SOME FILM TO A CASTING AGENCY. THE MANIAC WHO RUNS THE PLACE FLIRTS WITH JUDY. I DON’T KNOW WHY THIS SCENE IS IN THE MOVIE, EXCEPT TO FLESH OUT ITS ALREADY TOO-SHORT RUNNING TIME.

AT HEADQUARTERS, JUDY JOKES AROUND WITH THE HORNY DISPATCHER, WHO SAYS HE WON’T ASK HER OUT ANYMORE SINCE HE KNOWS JUDY’S BERENGER’S OLD LADY.

WE GET TO SEE BERENGER RUSH IT A BIT, TOO. HE DELIVERS A PACKAGE TO SOME OFFICE, WHERE AN OLDER, STILL-FOXY SECRETARY REPEATEDLY ASKS HIM WHAT SHE CAN DO FOR HIM. ALL HE NEEDS IS HER SIGNATURE, BUT HE ASKS HER OUT FOR AN EGG McMUFFIN. GUESS WHO’S BUYING?

THEN BERENGER CRASHES SOME ART OPENING, APPROACHING THE OWNER OF THE GALLERY WITH HIS SLIDES IN TOW LIKE A TOTAL ASSHOLE. THE OWNER TELLS BERENGER HE’LL HAVE TO SPEAK TO HIS WIFE (CHRISTINA PICKLES, THE WEDDING SINGER), WHO, IN FACT, RUNS THE GALLERY.

WHEN THE GALLERY GASH FEASTS HER EYES ON BERENGER, SHE QUICKLY STARTS ASKING ABOUT HIS WORK AND ITS DIMENSIONS.

WHEN SHE’S SATISFIED, THEY MAKE A DATE FOR A STUDIO VISIT.

BERENGER RETURNS TO JUDY’S PAD ELATED WITH THE GOOD NEWS. JUDY’S HAPPY FOR HIM, BUT ALSO KIND OF BUMMED THAT HE DIDN’T TAKE HER TO THE OPENING.

JUDY AND BYRON HAVE A CHAT ON THE WAY TO THE LAUNDROMAT. BYRON REVEALS THAT HE’S PLANNING TO BREAK UP WITH MERRILL.

WHILE JUDY’S OUT DOING HER OLD MAN’S WHITES, SAID OLD MAN SLAVES AWAY IN THE STUDIO THAT USED TO BE JUDY’S APARTMENT. DIG BOWIE’S PINUPS IN THE THE BACKGROUND!

BERENGER RECEIVES AN UNEXPECTED VISIT FROM MERRILL, WHO’S BEEN SUNBATHING ON THE ROOF. SHE ASKS BERENGER IF SHE CAN WATCH HIM PAINT. HE TELLS HER TO COME BACK WHEN IT’S A BETTER TIME TO PARTY, HE’S ON A DEADLINE.

JUDY AND BERENGER GRAB SOME MALTS AND PARK IT ON THE CURB. THE LIGHT’S REAL NICE AND THE WIND’S BLOWING SOFTLY, MAKING THE SCENE PLAY MORE NATURAL THAN THE OTHERS. IF I WAS ONE OF THESE TWO PEOPLE, I’D CHOOSE THIS SCENE FOR MY ACTING REEL.

WHEN JUDY TELLS BERENGER THAT BYRON’S CUTTING MERRILL LOOSE, HE ISN’T SUPRISED. HE TELLS JUDY HE’LL NEVER LET SOME CHICK COME BETWEEN HIM AND HIS PAINTING.

“Don’t EVER buy me a strawberry shake again. I said VANILLA.”

BERENGER PICKS A CONVENIENT TIME FOR THE GALLERY GASH TO STOP BY -- i.e. WHEN JUDY AIN’T AROUND. SHE DIGS BERENGER’S WORK AND BEGS FOR A CLOSER LOOK.

JUDY AND HER GIRLFRIEND FROM THE MESSENGER OFFICE (HARRIETT HALL) GET TOGETHER IN THE PARK TO RAP ABOUT BOYS AND WHAT HEELS THEY ARE.

WHEN JUDY GETS HOME, SHE FINDS BYRON MOROSE AND CARRYING A BOX OF MERRILL’S SHIT TO DELIVER BACK TO HER. BYRON ASKS JUDY IF SHE’LL COME WITH HIM.

WHEN THEY GET TO MERRILL’S, BYRON TELLS JUDY HER COMING WITH HIM WAS JUST A PLOY TO GET HER TO ACTUALLY DELIVER THE SHIT HERSELF SO BYRON WON’T HAVE TO SUFFER THE AGONY OF SEEING MERRILL’S STUPID FACE ONE MORE TIME. JUDY, EVER THE GOOD SPORT, OBLIGES HIM.

“Oh... it’s you. Where’s Byron? OH. Okay. Well, can you tell him he still owes me $4.37 for his portion of the Con Ed bill from July? Thanks!”

AS JUDY AND BYRON RETURN TO THEIR BUILDING, THE GALLERY GASH IS JUST LEAVING.

B-B-BUSTED! WHEN JUDY ENTERS THE PAD, BERENGER’S IN THE PROCESS OF CHANGING HIS SHIRT TO ONE NOT SOAKED IN SWEAT AND SCENTED VAGINAL OILS. HE TELLS JUDY HE GOT THE SHOW. SUDDENLY, WITH THE HELP OF A SHORT FLASHBACK, JUDY KNOWS THE SCORE.

AFTER A LONG, CATHARTIC RIDE AROUND THE CITY, JUDY VISITS THE GALLERY WHERE BERENGER’S GONNA HAVE HIS SHOW. THE PAINTINGS IN THE BACKGROUND REMINDS ME A LOT OF THE KIND OF WORK ALAN BATES’ CHARACTER MADE IN AN UNMARRIED WOMAN, OR THAT ARTIST JEREMY BLAKE WHO ESSENTIALLY MADE THE SAME KIND OF SHIT IN THE EARLY 2000s, ALBEIT DIGITALLY, BEFORE HIS TRAGIC DOUBLE-SUICIDE WITH HIS CRAZY WIFE AFTER THEY DID TOO MUCH COCAINE AND CONVINCED THEMSELVES THEY WERE BEING HUNTED BY THE CHURCH OF SCIENTOLOGY. IF THIS REVIEW HAS TAUGHT YOU ANYTHING, IT’S THAT I KNOW FAR TOO MUCH BULLSHIT ABOUT CONTEMPORARY ART AND NOT ENOUGH ABOUT MAKING LOVE. ANYWAY, JUDY WINS.

SHE GOES FOR ONE LAST DELIVERY. ONCE AGAIN, BUZZY LINHART’S MUSIC COMES ALONG FOR THE RIDE.

FINALLY, BYRON TELLS JUDY HE’S FOUND THE PERFECT GUY FOR HER: IT’S BYRON!!! WELL, ALRIGHT! JUDY LAUGHS. HARD. THE END.

#vhs #annie hall #unicorn video #70s new york #bike messengers

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