#also laughing at myself for how suddenly I am more deeply invested in this show bc of Hayden lmao | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

panharmonium · 4 years ago

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Merlin and Naruto

I did Merlin here, so here’s Naruto! :D

[disclaimer for everyone: I have only watched up through Season 10 of Shippuden (the arc with the Five Kage Summit), and I am trying to avoid spoilers for everything after that point, so please don’t interact with this (including tags, because tumblr shows them to me automatically) unless you are avoiding ALL spoilers. For me, this includes discussion about whether you like/dislike future seasons, comparisons of various seasons in terms of quality, etc. Thanks, everyone! <3]

My favorite parent-child relationship: I know they’re not blood-related, but Iruka and Naruto have me crying every time I see them together. Naruto straight-up says that when he’s with Iruka he feels like he knows what it’s like to have a father, and honestly, Iruka loves Naruto so much at this point that he would insta-adopt him if Naruto asked. I love how Naruto always cites Iruka as the first person who cared for him even later in the show when Iruka hasn’t had as much screentime, and when I saw Iruka cry because he’s so proud of Naruto at the end of the Pain arc, it was just...too much for my little heart to handle.

My favorite sibling relationship: You know, thinking about it, almost all of the people in Naruto are only children, as far as we know! But in terms of just that sibling vibe - Sakura and Naruto definitely give me that feel. I know he has a crush on her, but their relationship has always felt more sibling-like to me, and I especially love how deep their bond has become by the time we get to Shippuden. They are just so comfortable with each other now - the depth of the love and friendship they feel for each other is palpable.

My favorite family relationship (other): I adore Naruto’s relationship with Jiraiya. That scene where Naruto falls asleep against his back almost killed me, and Jiraiya’s later line, “Your smile is my salvation” - that was too much. It absolutely destroyed me. The way Jiraiya kind of gave up on everything after his old life went to hell - neverending wars, Orochimaru gone, his original students dead, his student’s students dead, Minato dead - he just ran away after that, and it was meeting Naruto that kind of rekindled that spark of hope in him and helped him reconnect with his community and rediscover a sense of purpose in his life. Naruto enabled him to finally come home, and I think that’s beautiful.

My favorite friendship between two people: There are so many friendships in Naruto that I love (one of the greatest things about this show for me has been how little focus is given to romantic relationships, at least so far; it’s very much a friendship-oriented show), but right now I’m in a bit of a Kakashi-Yamato hole. I was super primed to not like Yamato when he first showed up, because him being there meant that my favorite character WASN’T there, and also he ended up replacing Kakashi on the one mission where the team finally found Sasuke, but the guy won me over in the end. He is one of my favorite characters now - my heart just swells every time I see him - and I think his relationship with Kakashi is super interesting. I’ve written before about how Kakashi’s only truly intimate friendships are with people who are dead, and I do think that applies when it comes to Yamato, too, even though the two of them are obviously very companionable and close. There is still a level to that relationship where Kakashi is a bit of a mentor figure, the “superior officer,” which results in a degree of (still friendly and affectionate) distance. And as with all of his other relationships, Kakashi doesn’t really confide in Yamato about his life or open up to him in the same way that he does when he talks to his dead friends - but at the same time, there is an element to their relationship that doesn’t exist in Kakashi’s other friendships, and it’s the fact that Kakashi trusts Yamato with his kids, implicitly and without reservation. Kakashi’s entire life right now is very much enmeshed in what happens to his students, and even if he doesn’t necessarily talk about that with Yamato, Yamato is still deeply involved in that work. Yamato VOLUNTEERED for that work. And he continues to dedicate himself to it even when his first mission as Kakashi’s stand-in ends up going completely off the rails and turning into WAY more than he signed up for. He keeps doing his utmost for Kakashi’s kids without it even being his original responsibility, and that is such an unusual thing, for Kakashi, who in every other circumstance is always the one stepping in to help other people, the one who always shoulders his burdens alone. Nobody ever asks Kakashi if he needs help with these incredibly high-needs children, and neither does Yamato - but the difference is that Yamato jumps in to help regardless, and he stays no matter how complicated things get. That’s huge, and it’s only going to become more important. It’s just - it is difficult for Kakashi to have intimate friendships with people who don’t share his history, and this rules out almost everybody else in the world, because all the people who truly share his own history are dead. But the degree to which Yamato has altruistically and irreversibly entwined himself into the most important parts of Kakashi’s new history - the chapters being written right now, the ones that are going to define the rest of Kakashi’s life - means that Yamato is well on his way to breaking through that wall and becoming the first exception to a universal rule. [There is a lot to be said on Kakashi’s side of this, too, like - every time Kakashi refuses to call Yamato by his code name I lose my mind just a little bit, and I have MANY thoughts about Kakashi basically dragging folks who’ve been victimized or exploited or experimented on out of ANBU and then absorbing them into his own team, where they become a part of a family-type unit that respects them and cares about them and treats them like human beings. I mean, there’s a huge difference between the Yamato we meet in S2 vs. the Yamato we know in S10 (and the same thing goes for Sai!) - and that’s something I think about a lot.]

My favorite friendship between a group: I love all of the team dynamics, but Team Gai is a fave XD The absurd contrast between oh-so-serious Neji vs. Gai/Lee’s incredible goofiness (with Tenten’s exasperation in between) is comedy gold. I screamed with laughter in S1 when Gai was trying to get Neji to put his hand in the circle and do their “shout a slogan like a sports team” thing - I’ve never seen anything funnier on this show than jonin!Neji trying to put up with Gai’s antics.

My favorite mentorship: My favorite mentorship is always Kakashi and whichever kid happens be onscreen with him at that moment, but I’ll be honest and say that Kakashi+Sasuke was the first dynamic that got me actually invested in this show (as opposed to me just watching it because it was on and not really caring what happened to any of the characters). They are still the mentorship dynamic about which I have the most complex feelings, and that is especially true after the last season we watched. I will probably end up making a separate post about this, because I still have not written down all of my thoughts about the end of Season 10 and I am still trapped in my feelings about this very lost child and the only adult who ever tried to help him the way he deserved to be helped, and I know I have way more to say about them than I can reasonably fit in this bullet point. But - the short version is that I am super compelled by the way that every tragedy that’s befallen Kakashi is precisely what shapes him into the only adult who can help this particular kid, the way seemingly senseless events ended up putting Kakashi in a position where he’s the only adult who can intervene on this kid’s behalf many, many years later. The way Sasuke’s plight (and the potential that Kakashi has to help him) suddenly grants meaning to the worst parts of Kakashi’s life - that knocks me on my butt.

My favorite rivalry: So I probably would not have said this until the episode where Kakashi comes three seconds away from being made Hokage, but I’m gonna say Gai & Kakashi, solely to express my love and appreciation for Gai in that episode. This is the ep where Gai challenges Kakashi to a race through the entire village (as a sort of “last hurrah before we can’t do this kind of silly shit anymore” thing) and Kakashi is initially kind of reluctant to do it, because he’s stressed out about a lot of things, but he does end up agreeing to it, and then he has SO much fun, and I LOVED this so much; I can’t even tell you. This moment takes place immediately after Kakashi returns from that horrible, awful confrontation with Sasuke, and everything preceding this scene was very hard for me to see, because everybody is just asking Kakashi to do more and more and more for them without giving him even a hot minute to be like “i almost just killed my own kid. i almost just had to kill my own kid, who was trying to kill my other kid, who was trying to kill kid #1 first, so i wouldn’t have assume the burden of killing him myself.” Nobody checks on him, nobody asks, and Kakashi has to just hold onto that horror and also fret over the uncertain yet chilling secrets that Madara Uchiha disclosed and also prepare to shoulder the crushing weight of an office he never asked for - AND THEN. GAI SHOWS UP. And even though Gai doesn’t really know what happened, he still checks Kakashi over from top to bottom to make sure he’s in one piece, and then he drags him into this stupid competition, and it makes Kakashi LAUGH. They go running all out across the craterized scene of devastation that used to be their home, and they have FUN doing it, and Kakashi straight-up tells Gai, “This was just what I needed,” which - god. It would be great if Kakashi had somebody he could actually talk to, sure, but there’s also a space in our lives for people who just cheer us up, no questions asked. It’s like when you tell someone you have a problem and they ask, “Do you want to talk about it or do you want to be distracted?” Sometimes you don’t need to talk about it. Sometimes you just need people who will take you for a goofy footrace and make you feel like you’re running too fast for any of your troubles to ever touch you again, for a few minutes.

My favorite hatred/antipathy: The answer to this question used to be Kakashi and Itachi, and while I’m even MORE fascinated by their dynamic now than ever, it’s taken on a whole new dimension, given that I think Itachi is (secretly) thrilled to see someone like Kakashi so committed to taking him down and keeping Sasuke safe. So, in place of that, I’ll just say that I love how much all of the Akatsuki cannot stand each other XD Almost none of them get along, and it makes me laugh every time - I can’t believe they ever get anything done, though I guess that’s to be expected when you get that many super-criminals together in a room. I especially love how they all think Orochimaru is so stupid...cannot get over them laughing at him and his body-snatching immortality schemes.

My favorite potential relationship between characters who never talk in canon: Okay, these are both silly answers, but - I would have KILLED to see Jiraiya interacting with Minato’s team. Like, I’m certain they spent time together, but honestly, what I wouldn’t give to have witnessed some of it. All I could think about during that mini-arc where Jiraiya teaches Naruto how to sync up with Gamariki was how little!Kakashi would have taken one look at the dancing frogs and decided he would be using dog!summons for the rest of his life; meanwhile Obito would have already been in the frog’s mouth begging to be launched into the air like a cannonball. Also - my sister said the other night how it is a CRIME that we never got to see Sasuke forced to interact with Jiraiya and honestly, that is too true.

#naruto #pan watches naruto #long post #meta #(sort of)

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loseyoutoloveme · 4 years ago

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can you do a rundown/review of every song on folklore like you've done for selena? and what your current top 5 are??

considering this is officially one of my top 3 favourite albums ever i’m v happy to 😌! warning, absolutely every single song will be ranked 10/10

thank for wanting to know my thoughts :( i can’t believe anybody would volunteer to read this JDNSKSDJKDS

first of all, my top 5 is probbbbably gonna change (maybe not tho bc my lover top 5 hasn’t really changed a lot), but for now, i think it’s: august > seven > mad woman > illicit affairs > mirrorball

THE 1:

ngl my very first thought was that it reminded me of same love by macklemore skdjdskjdskjsd but not in a bad way!

literally some of the prettiest lyrics, i knew just from this song that this would top red as her best lyrically (best album in general)

honestly just rly sad and sweet and one of those songs that has such a universal sound i feel?

also the simplest song of the album lyrically (also not in a bad way, just like objectively this is the easiest subject matter on the album with the least opaque lyrics), so a really good opener

best lyrics: “we never painted by the numbers baby but we were making it count/you know the greatest loves of all time are over now” and “we were something don’t you think so/roaring twenties tossing pennies in the pool/and it my wishes came true it would’ve been you”

a cute girl, 10/10

CARDIGAN:

i was surprised by the darkish sound of this one

idk what that like clanking sound in the background is but i find it a lil distracting in the first half of the song - but if i ever find out what it is and it has some symbolic meaning/purpose for being there (i assume it does) i’ll accept it sdjknsd

i love the nostalgia that is so present in like almost every song on this album :(

also the music video is stunning and frames the entire album in the most interesting way, metaphor-wise

best lyrics: “i knew you’d linger like a tattoo kiss/knew you’d haunt all of my what-ifs/the smell of smoke would hang around this long/cause i knew everything when i was young/i knew i’d curse you for the longest time/chasin’ shadows in the grocery line/i knew you’d miss me when the thrill expired/and you’d be standing in my front porch light/and i knew you’d come back to me”

10/10

THE LAST GREAT AMERICAN DYNASTY:

love this one bc it’s like a nice lil exhale in an album filled with angst, like it’s cute and boppy without being aggressive

i’m suddenly absolutely obsessed with rebekah harkness, particularly the “bitch pack” thing and her dyeing someone’s dog green

i love taylor’s storytelling and i love how that’s always been a big part of her approach to songwriting. this is taylor at her best narration, like starlight but so much better. this is a type of songwriting that is so underused these days, esp by mainstream artists and i love so much that she has always used it and been so invested in it

the pronoun change made me screech. sooo goooood

taylor’s obv a deeply autobiographical artist which is why it’s so incredible to hear her tell OTHER people’s stories and somehow make them so her own. like i think it’s mostly the english major in me that just gets so emotional over that...... the way that other people’s stories became our own through the way we tell them......

this song is def the one that is most explicit about the album’s theme of telling stories but ones that tell something about her (and about her listeners too), by switching to personal pronouns at the end. it sets up a pattern for the rest of the album, where each song is about one thing (the actual story she’s telling) but also about a bunch of other things.

a good example of why she’s the greatest songwriter of this generation

best lyrics: “there goes the maddest woman this town has ever seen/she had a marvelous time ruining everything”

10/10

EXILE:

bon iver’s voice was a full shock to the system the first time i listened and idk why sdkjnds it is just so deep and i was not at all expecting it esp after the cuteness of tlgad

anyway these lyrics are GORGEOUS

i love a duet where the 2 singers’ lyrics are meant to be directed at each other. is there a word for that type of duet idk but it always makes a duet infinitely better

the miscommunication exemplified in the bridge...... chef’s kiss heartbreaking

out of all the songs this is the one that makes me feel the most like i am in the middle of a forest in winter. i can already picture myself listening to this song in december with the sound of a crackling fire in the background mmmmmmmm my exact vibe

best lyrics: “you’re not my homeland anymore/so who am i defending now?/you were my town, now i’m in exile seeing you out” and “i’m not your problem anymore/so who am i offending now?”

10/10

MY TEARS RICOCHET:

this chorus BRRROOOOKE ME

writing songs presumably about the masters situation and framing them as breakup songs was absolutely galaxy brain

i feel like the image of tears ricocheting has like a million layers to it and is just suuuuch a smart metaphor

also just such a visually rich song ? so is every song on the album but the metaphors of this song are all just so visual

best lyrics: “i didn’t have it in myself to go with grace/and you’re the hero flying around saving face/and if i’m dead to you why are you at the wake?” and “i can go anywhere i want/anywhere i want, just not home”

10/10

MIRRORBALL:

ok so i did like this one on first listen, i loved absolutely everything on first listen, but it didn’t hit my top 5 until like 8 listens later, so it’s def a big grower and i think could be a huge fan fav by next year

the self-awareness in her writing will never fail to amaze me

the way that life is just performing...... yeah

but it’s crazy to me that a person could be like “i’m a compulsive people pleaser and performer and i’ll do anything to get ppl to like me” and that leads to “i am a disco ball” like ???? her brain is so big. it’s such a gorgeous metaphor.... and the circus imagery AHHHHH

best lyrics: “i’m still on that tightrope/i’m still trying everything to get you laughing at me/i’m still a believer but i don’t know why/i’ve never been a natural, all i do is try try try/i’m still on that trapeze/i’m still trying everything to keep you looking at me” and “i can change everything about me to fit in”

10000/10

SEVEN:

this one simply rips my heart out

at first i was like oh this is so weird and then the chorus just would not leave my head

for me personally, nostalgia is literally 90% of my personality and just for so many personal reasons the thought of childhood ending and all of the growing pains that come along with that have been at the forefront of my psyche for the past year. so it just kills me whenever i find a song like this one and it kills me that taylor specifically has several songs about this topic and this is 100000% the best of them all. like it’s the most beautiful experience to have your thoughts and feelings and fears expressed so perfectly by a total stranger, and that’s rly what art is about and i love taylor for doing that for me and millions of other people

i just feel like this song brings up so many vivid beautiful memories of childhood for so many people, like being outside in the summer and screaming and being free. ugh

the pause after “i hit my peak at seven” before completing the phrase........ OOOOOOOOOF IT HITS TOO HARD

and sound-wise, just so off-beat and cool and unique

best lyrics: “i hit my peek at seven/feet in the swing across the creek” and “are there still beautiful things?” and “love you to the moon and to saturn/passed down like folk songs/the love lasts so long” and “before i learned civility/i used to scream ferociously/any time i wanted”

100000000000/10

AUGUST:

i knew immediately that this would be my favourite tbh like i could sense it the second it began

i wrote my first impression thoughts in my journal and you can tell the exact moment i got to the bridge bc i just started screaming sdnjksdkjsdn

i would 100% get a tattoo that said “to live for the hope of it all”

everything about this song is LITERALLY flawless like i have.......no notes......no thoughts.......it’s just an absolutely perfect song

best lyrics: “back when we were still changing for the better/wanting for was enough/for me it was enough/to live for the hope of it all" and “august sipped away like a bottle of wine/cause you were never mine”

100000000000000000000000000/10

THIS IS ME TRYING:

this song is rly good but i keep forgetting it exists omg :/ once i learn all of the lyrics i’ll appreciate her more

the strings are gorgeous

i was rly surprised that this one was done with jack instead of aaron just bc the bridge of this sounds SOOOO the national

these lyrics could be interpreted in so many different ways depending on the listener’s experiences and that’s beautiful

best lyrics: “i was so ahead of the curve/the curve became a sphere/fell behind all my classmates and i ended up here” and “it’s hard to be at a party when i feel like an open wound/it’s hard to be anywhere these days when all i want is you/you’re a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town”

10/10

ILLICIT AFFAIRS:

that soft high note on “down,” “stop,” etc is sooooo nice

i don’t have many thoughts on it, it’s just so soft, SOOOOOO gorgeous instrumentally and lyrically

best lyrics: “it’s born from just one single glance/but it dies and it dies and it dies/a million little times” and “don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby/look at this godforsaken mess that you made me/you showed me colours you know i can’t see with anyone else” and “you taught me a secret language i can’t speak with anyone else/and you know damn well/for you i would ruin myself/a million little times”

100000/10

INVISIBLE STRING:

like i said about tlgad, this is a nice little break from all the angst and pain and anger sdnjksdnskjsd just a sweet little break to remind u there are good things in the world too. so placed really well in the tracklist imo

super super super super cute chorus

so many pretty melodies

absolutely an autumn song btw

best lyrics: “time, mystical time/cutting me open, then healing me fine”

10/10

MAD WOMAN:

i literally lost my mind listening to this for the first time

i have such a thing for scorned women anthems like i will immediately love it whatever it is

the pure rage when she says “cause you took everything from me” gives me full body chills

it is just so eerie and haunting and perfect

best lyrics: “women like hunting witches too/doing your dirtiest work for you/it’s obvious that wanting me dead/has really brought you two together” and “every time you call me crazy i get more crazy/what about that?” and “good wives always know/she should be mad, should be scathing like me/but no one like a man woman”

1000000/10

EPIPHANY:

i find this one so hard to listen to but it’s absolutely beautiful and devastating and so heavily relevant for i think the whole world rn

the heart monitor and the trumpets tying both of the topics in together is so genius and so heartbreaking

i think will be the sygb of folklore where it makes everybody cry so much that it becomes a skip despite being a beautiful song

best lyrics: “something med school did not cover/someone’s daughter, someone’s mother” and “some things you just can’t speak about”

10/10

BETTY:

first of all THE HARMONICA

this made me so happy bc it’s just so debut and so fearless and it made me SOOOOO nostalgic on my first listen, because it really felt to me like i was getting to listen to a song from debut or fearless for the very first time again

it’s just so sweet and cute and simple and yet another very self-aware moment of looking back to her past material/subject matter

best lyrics: “would you have me? would you want me?/would you tell me to go fuck myself/or lead me to the garden?” and “i’m only seventeen, i don’t know anything/but i know i miss you”

10/10

PEACE:

the bass at the beginning is soooooo nice

this miiiiiight be the strongest song on the album lyrics-wise but idk yet

not much to say, it’s just so gorgeous

best lyrics: “i’m a fire and i’ll keep your brittle heart warm/if your cascade ocean wave blues come/all these people think love’s for show/but i would die for you in secret” and “would it be enough if i could never give you peace?” and “i talk shit with my friends, it’s like i’m wasting your honour”

10/10

HOAX:

i have a feeling this one will be underrated/underappreciated bc it’s just simple and dark and the last song, but this is....... a lyrical masterpiece

i feel like i need to be playing this on vinyl with all of the lights off and just a candle burning yknow, like there’s just something so dark and ancient about it

best lyrics: “my winless fight/this has frozen my ground” and “your faithless love’s the only hoax i believe in/don’t want no other shade of blue but you/no other sadness in the world would do” and “you knew it still hurt underneath my scars/from when they pulled me apart/but what you did was just as dark/darling this was just as hard”

10/10

OVERALL: 10000000000/10 literally one of the best albums i have ever heard and (while i wouldn’t put it past her to top it) absolutely the best work of her career. so complex and layered and emotional and painful and genuine and different. not to get ahead of myself but this is/should be considered her blue, her rumours, her abbey road....... god. can’t wait to listen to this album for the rest of my life and play it for my future children and just watch it live on as the greatest work of one of the most important artists of the 21st century

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pandemicthestory · 5 years ago

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6: hooked

Is Isabel in danger?

With her lying there like a drugged out rag doll, it’s hard to tell. Heartbeat, breathing, she’s definitely alive...but then, why can’t she hear Emma? Something’s telling Emma not to touch the headset--no matter what’s going on with Isabel’s body, her mind is in there somewhere. And according to every movie ever, you don’t fuck with the brain.

Emma scrambles to check out the packaging--no return address. But obviously, she knows who had to have sent this. And he knows about Universe, so he better have answers.

Emma makes a mad dash to her bedroom. Her dad calls from downstairs.

“Did you get the package?”

“YEAH IT WAS A T-SHIRT”

A t-shirt? What? Her bullshitting skills are slipping. It doesn’t matter, her dad doesn’t actually care anyway, it’s just part of his new “I’m invested” routine. Emma slams her bedroom door behind her, then runs over to her computer.

EMMA: Mason are you there??

EMMA: Hello?

EMMA: I think my sister is in trouble

EMMA: She stole the headset, she started playing the game, she’s not responding to me, I’m massively freaking out if you can’t tell

EMMA: I’m sorry to ask this but did you...do something?

Who knows what this ghost person is capable of. Whatever connection she and he may or may not have...she doesn’t actually know him at all.

She waits.

Oddly, there’s nothing. Hadn’t he just told her about the package fifteen minutes ago? Where could he have gone? Emma slumps down in her chair.

Why is it that men always disappear when they are needed most?

* * *

24 HOURS EARLIER

A teenage boy is taking a shower in a minimalistic stall. He bows his head toward the showerhead, the powerful stream sends his wavy black hair in all directions. The boy makes the water hotter. And hotter. The skin on his neck is turning a deep shade of red, but it’s unclear if he can even feel it.

“Night, hurry the hell up. I gotta shower too.”

The complaining breaks the peace of the showering boy. He turns off the faucet, wraps himself in a pristine white bath towel, and makes way for his roommate to take over.

“Why d’you shower so much, man? Shit’s creepy.”

“That’s why I do it, Sugar, to creep you out. Keeps you on your toes.”

Sugar laughs to himself and turns on the shower. The boy called Night stares at himself in the square, chrome mirror. The bathroom looks like it belongs in a very luxurious prison.

“We getting food before class?” Sugar calls from the shower.

“Sure, whatever.” Night exits the bathroom into an expansive bedroom with two king-sized beds. The curtains are shut, so the only source of light is a single bulb radiating from the ceiling. Night grabs a pair of deep blue linen pants and a matching button-up shirt from one of the closets and gets dressed.

This room is pretty clearly divided, one side being far more chaotic than the other. There are desks on either side: one desk is covered in clothes, dirty towels, food wrappers, and an empty fish tank. Oddly, it had never contained a fish. The other desk has only a desktop computer and tiny, struggling plant growing out of a mason jar. This is the desk Night sits down at. He powers on his computer.

“Yo, you ready?” Sugar calls from inside the bathroom.

Night groans, then shuts his computer off before it can boot up. “Yeah.”

Night and Sugar head down a wide staircase that empties into an enormous hall, swimming with other young people wearing the same linen suits that they are. Not all are blue, some are red, a few are green (including Sugar’s), and only a couple of them are black.

The hall is lined with various food vendors, there’s a range of cuisine--nearly any option imaginable. The counters are fast, so despite the crowd, there are no lines. Everyone pays by tapping their phones.

“Kinda feeling like a sushi situation today, what d’you think?” Sugar asks, very obviously checking out two girls grabbing soy sauce from the counter.

“Why are you looking at those girls?”

“Uh, why would I NOT be looking at them? The hell is wrong with you?”

Night says earnestly, “Oh, I get it now that you want to--”

“--ALRIGHT great.” Sugar shakes his head. “Dude, listen. I’m glad we’re roomin’ together. In fact I even like you a lil bit. Not in that way. You know what I mean. Anyway. I think you’re cool. But I also think you’re a damn freak.”

Night tries not to laugh. “Is that all?”

“Yeah it is. Now let’s get some fuckin maki.”

* * *

Night is trying to stay awake in class, but he’s finding it impossible to care about this kid’s presentation on the code he wrote over the weekend. This class simply could not be more boring. Why can’t he be studying something useful? Another language? Or music? These computer skills are just not practical. No one needs them.

But boredom is not the only reason Night can’t stay awake in class. It’s also because he doesn’t put forth much effort to sleep at night. Once the sun goes down, Night begins to read. Typically not books, but articles on the internet. Hours pass, he scours the web for information, and his pale eyes melt into the screen.

“Night, wake up.”

Night opens his eyes and takes a startled breath. He’s alone in the classroom with his teacher. An older woman, dressed in a smart but relaxed white linen suit. She looks disappointed, and slightly concerned.

“What happened?”

“You fell asleep. And then class ended. And you still didn’t move. So here we are.”

“I’m sorry. I was just so disinterested in what was going on. I couldn’t bring myself to pay attention, it was boredom that made me pass out.” Night says this very earnestly, unaware that it’s fairly insulting.

Teacher smiles and nods. She knows Night lives on another planet, and she expects things like this. He’s very bright, but also extremely strange. He seems to have a good heart, but it’s also hard to judge hearts since they’re invisible and not actually related to emotion. She keeps an eye on him.

“I’m a bit worried about you, Night. I want you to graduate the year with enough knowledge to start building.”

“Eh, well, you shouldn’t worry about me, Teacher. What we learned this week...I taught myself when I was ten.”

Teacher laughs. He kinda laughs too.

She asks, “Will you do something for me?”

“I don’t know.”

She takes a deep breath, thinking.

“I want you to take your presentation very seriously. I want you to “wow” me. Show your classmates how brilliant you are. I know that you can.”

Night stares, thoughtfully. All his life, his actions have been motivated by an internal compass that he cannot understand or explain. He has always done what he wants, has always says what’s on his mind. Often he’s wrong, and sometimes controversial, but the people around him know him well enough to know that he doesn’t mean it. Most people, anyway.

While people have allowed the tall, starry-eyed ghost boy to wander and act impulsively wherever he goes (because it’s easier not to question it), he still struggles with being abnormal. He wonders if the reason he can’t sleep at night is because nighttime is the only time that he can detach himself from the people around him. When he can be alone, and feel normal, and imagine different ways of living.

What if he doesn’t want to build next year?

Maybe there’s a way for him to prove that he can contribute something else.

* * *

It’s evening, the school day is over.

Back at their room, Sugar tosses his backpack on top of the pile of junk on his desk. He flings himself onto his bed and immediately starts playing an obnoxiously loud game on his phone. Night is on his computer, writing. Sugar calls out, without moving.

“Man, what are you doing? Homework? It’s Friday dude.”

“I’m actually writing you a letter about how much I love you.”

Night’s signature deadpan is so dead that it’s undetectable to the naked eye. Sugar chortles and throws a pillow at Night’s head. He ducks.

“Dear Sugar, I am deeply enchanted by what a crusty slob you are. Piles of garbage are hot. Call me.”

“Yo you don’t even understand that I legit get that shit all the time. Those girls today were thinking it.”

“Oh I don’t doubt it.” Night smirks, Sugar laughs.

“You’re fuckin weird man.”

Sugar flips over, texting. Night continues to scroll and type, endlessly. He checks the time again and again. Based on the pandemic...on everything that’s going on...he has calculated that it will happen tonight. He sends an email. He taps his fingers.

“Well I’ma go out. Diamond’s havin’ a party or somethin. You in?”

Night doesn’t look away from the screen. “Nah, you go on ahead. Have fun.”

Sugar playfully caresses Night’s hair. “You want me to tell Diamond you said hello? I’m sure she...”

Night suddenly looks serious. “Please don’t.” Sugar laughs.

“Chill dude. Peace.” He leaves.

And with perfect timing.

*ping*

He receives a message. He takes a deep breath.

So many late nights of reading, studying, preparing. This message is what he’s been waiting for.

ADMIN_E: How am I supposed to find you if I don’t know who you are?

Night smiles to himself. Sometimes he can’t read people at all. Sometimes he can read them with incredible clarity. Right now, he can already tell that this girl won’t stop until she finds him.

He chats with her, back and forth. ADMIN_E and GUEST55.

*buzz*

Night looks down at his phone, which doesn’t vibrate often...

“Julian”

Except when she gets “certain” texts. Shit. Not good timing.

GUEST55: don’t answer that. He can wait

Emma ignores Julian. Good. Jesus, what does she see in that nightmare of a human?

Oh no, wait, it seems like she’s getting scared. Night doesn’t want to scare her. That’s not part of the plan.

ADMIN_E: ok now you’re starting to scare me. What the hell is going on? Are you watching me?

GUEST55: no, no...Emma, I promise i’ll explain everything. Just not yet

Night truly doesn’t care what any single person thinks of him. He lives in his own world, where the judgments of others don’t exist. So why is it that suddenly, when it comes to a girl he’s never actually met, he’s starting to care? Is that what this is? Well, he just knows that he doesn’t want her to be afraid of him.

But he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself either... She has the map now. The rest will come.

GUEST55: I’ll see you soon Emma.

ADMIN_E: See you, um, well see you

Strangely, he wants her to know his name. Some piece of her. It’s not that he’s afraid of exposing himself…it’s that he won’t just have to explain his own name, but the names of so many others, and so much more...she’ll have to wait.

He hesitates, looking around the dark room. His eyes land on the glass jar on his desk. Hm. The little plant does look so unnatural in this world.

GUEST55: my name is Mason. I want you to know that.

Mason. Well, it will have to work for now.

Night signs out. He walks over to the window, completing his nightly ritual of dragging the tall curtains open.

And then the extraordinary moonlight floods the room like a searchlight beam.

Outside his window, there is a city that looks nothing like any city we’ve ever seen in the natural world. Roads are raised, buildings are holographic, animated advertisements encircle all infrastructure. The moon is enormous, but there is not a single star.

Night stares up at the dark sky, after which he was named. Maybe soon she’d be staring at the same one.

#writers #write #writer #writers on tumblr #pandemic #coronavirus #short fiction #shortstory #yanovel #yanovels #sciencefiction #scifi #scififantasy #gamergirl #hackergirl

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animaechanthoughts · 5 years ago

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Steins;Gate Thoughts

Confession time! (Spoilers for Steins;Gate ahead)

I watched episode 20 - 22 last night and I think people were disappointed with my reaction (not in a mean way! just... I know it wasn't what they expected). I just wanted to take a moment to explain why (I thought about it a bit and came to a conclusion). I really love SG, because of the MC and the story - both are so different from any other MC and story that I have watched or read. Everything from visual choices to character expression was very unique and the mystery as to what was going on and what was going to happen really absorbed me.

The only thing that (kind of) was weird to me was that everyone was in love with the MC, similar to the basic "harem storyline" I've seen in other anime. Well, Feyris, Rukako and Kurisu were in love, but he also had even oddly forced scenes (e.g. kiss) with Moeka. It didn't bother me that much though, because that was never the focus.

The best emotional scenes came from Okabe and his desire to save his childhood friend, Mayuri. I guess that's why I didn't get invested in any of the "possible ships" (e.g. Okabe X Rukako or Okabe X Kurisu), because i was so enthralled with the story of time travel and undoing their mistakes and who is SERN and what about the people turning into green blobs and how does this world lines stuff work... I thought it brought up so many interesting themes and ethical dilemmas like, what if people could time travel? What kind of repercussions could it have on our world and on our humanity (as individuals)? Can we handle such responsibility? Wouldn't it be unfair for someone to travel back in time and fix their mistakes and through doing that literally change time and space and other people's lives... Like, should something like that even be allowed? Just because we CAN do certain things as human beings, doesn't always mean we should... I don't want to go too deeply into all the interesting thoughts it brings up in terms of ethics and other complexities...

I also enjoyed the whole conspiracy tone that surrounded the overarching story. In episode one so many questions are brought up (who killed Kurisu, why does she say Okabe wanted to tell her something 15 minutes ago when they had just met, why did all the people disappear for a while) and throughout the story more questions get raised about SERN Suzuha and wow just so much great mystery! I loved it and it often had my mind reeling.

Like I said, there was hints at romance with quite a few characters throughout the story, but it wasn't compelling to me because (from my perspective) the focus was time manipulation, mystery, conspiracies, Okabe's psychology (going through Mayuri's death over and over and over and over!)... It was thrilling. It was dramatic.

And then there was a love confession.

It was like Okabe's psyche had not suffered any damage from what he had been to until now. Him and Kurisu had their moment and then he went back.

Everything before and after the confession I find riveting. We know now that he passed the 1%!!!! And suddenly Suzuha calls him asking him to help her prevent WWIII!? I am so excited for the last couple of episodes. I can't wait to see what happens.

So yeah... Everything to me is brilliant. The anime really does most things well. I just think the romance wasn't done so well. I'm a big fan of romance - anime & manga. The moment of confession is HUGE in anime and I've seen some pretty amazing confessions that really had me shocked, laughing and even crying. This, in my opinion, was very lacklustre. Especially compared to other emotional moments in this very anime.

A patron commented the following: "Steins;Gate is originally a game, specifically a visual novel (a really long one), and of course they cut some things here and there. That scene in the game has more content and Okarin's monologue about his feelings for Kurisu is longer. He even explains why he never calls Kurisu by her name and the anime doesn't show it. So probably that extra "development content" would make you feel more attached to that scene."

I can say with almost 100% certainty that had I played the game/visual novel, I would have enjoyed the romance aspect a lot more. I would have been able to focus not only on the main story, and get attached to the individual characters, but I believe I also would have been more invested in the interpersonal relationships between the characters, and (probably) especially Okabe X Kurisu.

In the episode 21 discussion I talked about how I used to read books and completely immersed myself in the content. I would read lines and make notes and highlight important sentences and research things and... well, you get what I mean? I'm not saying it would be necessary for me to do this to enjoy the story, I'm just saying this story had the potential for that kind of complete immersion. The anime is great, but I feel if I had read this in light novel format (if it had one) or if I had played the game/visual novel, I would have been spellbound by every part of the story.

Like I said, I already think it's brilliant. It's just that the romance aspect of it, for me, was underdeveloped and therefore, underwhelming (FOR ME!!).

I'm writing this post in response to people's response to my reaction (haha). After watching last night, I felt confused by my own underwhelm and I just wanted to give it some more thought. I know some of you feel very differently about the confession and I'm really glad your experience was what it was!!

I can see the anime ending on a 9/10 for me - I don't remember when I last scored it, but I definitely think it's 90% average score on anilist is well deserved! I will wait until I finish the last 2 episodes before I score it, but like I said, I definitely think it deserves a 9.

#steins;gate

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nevergiveupneverrun · 6 years ago

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Bodyguard - Chapter Eight “In another world” Part One

Hello, I hope you’re all doing great. Here is chapter eight of my Story Bodyguard. I’m sorry in advance for the mistakes… English isn’t my first language and I do my best. Here is the link to the previous chapter: Click Here.

I hope you will enjoy this chapter :) 💛

- No, the package was already in the dressing room when we came back… - Could you dig with the managers of the show, to see how this package came to them? Nathan asks me through the handset. - Yes, I ask them a few questions after the show, questions vague enough not to disclose anything… but apparently nothing particular about it… - Did you get the package? - Yes, I have it and I wanted to send you it to you if you agree? - Yes, of course, I will look at whether he has committed possible negligence this time if we can find fingerprints… we never know… - Thank you for your help, Nathan, and you hold me informed? - No problem, Owen, take care of yourself… and keep an eye on your Amelia… Nathan hangs up directly after these last words and I put my phone in the pocket of my jacket while voices rise from the ground floor.

I leave my room to find the living room and then discover Amelia and April, installed on the sofa of the living room, concentrated in front of the coffee table… I approach a little more and I end up capturing the bits of their conversation. - I think the shots where you are back are more sensual… but those where you are face are very pretty too, by the way, you have a look at this one, what did you look for to have such intensity in your little eyes? My entry is less discreet than expected when I see the face of the two young women turn to me and discover me near the living room. - Owen, look at what Carina just sent us, the famous shot of this photoshoot, which you had the chance to attend… April launches me with a wink. One of my hands is reflexively placed on my tie, loosening the tie knot that seemed to have tightened around my neck. - Could you give us your opinion by the way Owen? A male opinion, it could be useful, right? Replies April turning to Amelia. Amelia looks at her friend then find my own look. She finally gets up, to come to meet me, two shots by hand. - I hesitate between two photos in fact and April is struggling to choose… but you can maybe help me actually. - Uh… I’m not sure… you should rather consult Richard, I think. - Richard would suggest another concept… and would not want to take a position… and have an outside eye like yours, is perhaps the most effective… She looks at me with hopeful eyes… I knew it was not my rôle, but at the same time if it could help? I end up stretching out a hand to ask for the shots and she smiles by placing them in my open palm.

My eyes are lowered on the two shots that I finally hold in each of my hands. I had a very specific memory of this photoshoot, but I’m literally amazed by the photo rendering. By the almost artistic look of these two shots… I discovered two black and white photos, beautifully putting Amelia in value. The first is a shot where she poses from behind, the guitar wedged on the shoulder, the head turned in profile, the gaze slightly down, revealing her legs and the lines of her back. The second is in complete contrast: she is in front, the guitar hiding the pelvis and part of her chest, her hands resting on the guitar… the gaze doesn’t fix the lens but observes something, a spark in the eyes… it was me she had in reference and she was watching and I am fascinated to have this moment so beautifully “captured” between the fingers… this glow that was created over the seconds and flashes while we looked at each other. - So, a preference? Amelia’s voice, at my side, gets me out of my thoughts and pushes me to choose. - I will say this one… I replied handing her the shot taken from behind. A choice that does not reveal my preference, however… but I didn’t want to see this look posted on the walls of Seattle… I wanted it to remain private… - Thank you, Owen… so I have my poster, she answers me smiling and taking again the shots. She redirects to her friend proudly showing her the winning photo. April looks at the picture for a few seconds and then gives me a sidelong look, a bit amused. - I’m going to call Carina to tell her, says Amelia, taking her phone out of her pocket and quickly leaving the living room. April looked down at the shot that I finally didn’t take on while smiling. - Why not have been honest? I was about to leave her but her question stopped me in my tracks. - Honest? - Yes, between us… we both know that the photo you prefer is this one… She supports her words with a raised hand to show me again the shot that I didn’t choose. Her remark intrigues me and makes me feel uncomfortable at the same time. - I perceived your confusion when you saw it, your hand tightened on this picture and your eyes lingered much longer than on the other… but I wonder why you didn’t choose it? She almost defies me for a few moments until the front door creaks behind me.

I take a quick look towards the entrance to discover Richard enter the room… allowing me to slip away. - Good morning Owen, he said as he saw me approaching. - Good morning. Richard salutes April with his hand before addressing me again. - Amelia is available? - She went up to the phone… to finalize the concert poster. - Okay, great. I feel him still a little uncomfortable, the last exchanges with Amelia having deeply marked. - Did you could you explain? Calmly discuss it again? He watches me for a few seconds before sighing. - Yes… she understood… but I clearly hurt her… it will take a little bit of time, I think… - She cares about you, be sure. He ends up smiling at me as footsteps echo on the stairs. - Hello Richard, Amelia launches with a visibly sincere smile, arriving at our side. - Hi, my lovely… so it seems that you chose your poster? - Yes, a good thing is done, you can pass the shot to the printer. - Very good… we’re almost in time for once, says her manager smiling. - Surely you have a big work session in front of you, no, both? Suddenly asks April who had just joined us. - Two, three details to settle actually, Richard confirms. - Very good… Amelia, I haven’t asked you before, but you allow me to take Owen tonight? My head suddenly turns to April, her question resonating in my head. - What are you talking about? - Well… I know he works for you… but it’s still not a life to be around the clock in service, and I thought that a small exit to relax could be useful… if Richard stays with you, would it allow him to be off tonight? I focus on each word escaping from the young woman’s mouth as if to confirm that I’m not dreaming… - April… Amelia is just as uncomfortable as I am about her friend’s question, while Richard seems very amused by the situation. - It’s a little short to address the subject… ha but… don’t tell me that you’re jealous if I go out with him a little? - Jealous? But….. no….. not at all….. and I don’t see why… it’s not the question. - Good, in this case, I will air a little your bodyguard! Owen, ready for a quiet evening? April scrutinizes me with big eyes allowing me to experience one of the most embarrassing situations of my life and… most unexpected… - April… it touches me that my well-being seems to be at the heart of your concerns, but when I agree to work for someone I invest myself completely… so I don’t need a break as you say… She observes me for a long time as if to pierce me up to date, then reacts without seeming surprised by my answer. - You may change your mind in a few days or weeks, my offer will still be there… she replies before returning to the living room. Richard lets out a laugh at my side as I exchange a brief look with Amelia. - I’m sure it’s a first for you? Richard asks me with a smirk. - Uh…yes…I confess… I answer with a smile. - Apologize April, I will talk to her… she has always been very direct and spontaneous, says Amelia. - Speaking of the reception, tomorrow is a special day… we need to get organized… Richard’s remark leaves me pensive, I go through all the information I had in mind but clearly had no idea what he was referring to. - Special? - Yes, I didn’t have time to tell you about Owen, but tomorrow night is a charity event for a foundation I created, it’s an important event that allows me to meet all the donors and the founders of the foundation. - Let’s go up to my office to discuss it, offers Richard.

I take content information that has just been revealed to me, already anticipating what an outing of this type would involve. We take a seat in Richard’s office: I sit on one of the two chairs in front of the desk, Amelia sitting to my right and Richard behind the desk. - Then the reception is held at Canlis, the restaurant run by Brady Williams, in Queen Anne. - A beautiful address… - Yes, it’s Amelia who finances the reception and it’s a way to thank donors and volunteers in a fairy-like setting. - Richard, you don’t have to tell Owen everything… she whispers beside me as if she’s embarrassed that I get her financing for a réception that looks particularly luxurious… and so expensive. - We have a problem, she says after a few seconds. You can not come… - Sorry? She sighs while raising her eyes to Richard who remains silent however, to believe that it was her to justify herself. - This reception is special to me… I don’t intervene as a singer and pseudo-celebrity but as the creator of this foundation… there are certainly important donors who are present and who wish to meet me but also and especially simple people who give their time every day for this cause… and I don’t want to return the image of an unreachable person by imposing on them a bodyguard… as if to show them that we are not of the same world, whereas it is quite the opposite… Her explanation was worked almost studied, but I could not accept that she participated in such an event without me being present… an event so special to her that it could be considered a golden opportunity for the lunatic to act… - Amelia… you are aware of the threats now, it is clearly not reasonable that you go there alone… - But I will not be alone, Richard can come with me… - You are not serious? We are talking about a man who has an obsessive obsession with you and who could choose this reception to concretize his threats, it’s out of the question that I am not present… there is inevitably a solution… I understand your position about this réception, but… - There is a solution, actually… Richard’s voice suddenly sounded when he had not spoken for several moments. - It would be enough to draw inspiration from April’s offer… - What? I was completely lost after Richard’s suggestion. - Well, it would be enough for you to accompany Amelia… but not as a bodyguard… - And in what capacity then? - Well, Owen will replace me… as a partner on your arm… Owen will be able to do his job without imposing his real function on your guests… Richard’s idea was more than intelligent and allowed to reconcile the various constraints… - It’s pretty clever, indeed, Amelia whispers. The eyes of Richard and Amelia then go simultaneously in my direction as if to ask me for an opinion, an answer. - It seems to be possible… - Very good, so book your most beautiful suit… and get ready to support me at your arm all evening…

24 hours later

8 pm on my watch. I finish tying my tie. Amelia didn’t give me any particular indications for the dress code of the réception except that I had to wear a suit… and failing to have a suit on hand, I had opted for a uniform look all in black (pants, jackets, shirt, and tie) which gave a set, I hoped, elegant enough for the occasion. I take a last look at myself and leave my room. Jackson is already in the lobby and greets me with a smile. - Hunk O’, he said laughing. - Don’t be jealous Jackson, I replied, taking up old habits of teammates. We both laugh when heels slam against the stairs. We look back simultaneously to see April coming down with a smile. - Owen Hunt in all his splendor, tell me… she says, not hiding her eyes sweeping me from head to toe… I don’t reply to her remark preferring not to feed the subject… or her curiosity. - Amelia is ready soon? - Yes, she is ready but she was on the phone when I left her, she should not be late… April answers me without looking me in the eyes, taking a not insignificant time to study my outfit. The second series of insured steps is soon to be heard and we find Amelia down the row of stairs while storing her phone in a small bag she holds in her hand.

I had seen hundreds of women in evening dress in my life… but it was the first one that managed to keep me captivated for more than a second… to study her. She was dressed in a long white dress, decorated with bright lines punctuating the fabric at regular intervals and gradually splaying downwards… in a fluid and supple material that looked like silk… It revealed a slight V-neckline and was completed with a ribbon of black fabric that perfectly marked the size of Amelia. I quickly guessed sandals with heels at her feet that appeared at the rhythm of the steps and the flight of the dress. I quickly get a grip on myself realizing that I had almost admired the apparition in front of me…but by discovering her face, my determination will prove to be short… My eyes lingering again more than it should. She had chosen a braided hairstyle on the side that put beautifully in value her neck, with a makeup certainly light but studied to support her eyes and her mouth. No jewel on her, as if she was aware that it was purely superfluous.

An arousing beauty, naturally. A charm and natural grâce that I was not used to.

A hand placed against her dress to raise it slightly, she was finishing up the last steps while I was making an observation… completely inappropriate.

And a question that already sounds in my head.

Was this upcoming réception really such a good idea…?

Thank you for reading💛

#greysanatomy #omelia #omeliafics #amelia shepherd #owen x amelia #amelia x owen #Owen Hunt #april kepner #jackson avery #richard webber #fanfic #bodyguard

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parkapetrs · 6 years ago

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nothing personal ✎ tom holland

summary: two years ago, before harrison osterfield, there was you.

a rising name in the film industry, he was ready to leave behind the life of a personal assistant to focus on his career—but not without a last-minute replacement.

although the bond between ex-bosses and bitter ex-assistants should never be rekindled, theory is always better than practice.

a story about exotic lunches, foreign candies, a severely overworked PA, and one pain in the ass named tom holland.

/ moodboard by yours truly

i. an offer

words: 1.6k warnings: language

I was a known strategist—I looked into the future and what I saw, I interpreted in terms of opportunities for growth and progress.

And yet to some, I was a neurotic.

To each their own.

Irrespective of whatever people wanted to call it, it all boiled down to one important thing: I always had a plan.

So when I knocked on Harrison’s door but came face-to-face with one Tom Holland, I was taken aback and, quite frankly, fairly annoyed that I had come up with nothing.

But I, of course, wasn’t one for backing down when it came to ex-bosses.

Seeming unperturbed, I marched my way inside the flat, all the while ignoring the voice in my head screaming at me to get out.

What the hell was I doing?

“What the hell are you doing?” asked Tom. He was still standing at the door, seemingly frozen in time, but curiously staring at me as I casually rummaged through Harrison’s pantry.

“What the hell are you doing?” I spat back whilst pulling ingredients from left and right. “You’re not even supposed to be here until next week. So be quiet; I’m trying to make a smoothie.”

The words sounded strange and unfamiliar as they tumbled out of my mouth. Sass didn’t suit me and I was painfully aware of it, but so did not having a plan.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

The door clicked shut behind Tom. Like a sleuth, he moved across the marble countertop where I was working up a storm, and rested his hands on either side of him as he observed me intently.

“Been keeping track?” he smirked, his tone arrogant yet teasing.

I hate to admit it, but Tom Holland possessed a kind of charm to him. As big of an ignoramus he turned out to be, that much he knew. Oftentimes, he used his wit and personality to his advantage—he’d won countless women over with one glance, and gotten free upgrades on flights with a simple smile.

Fortunately, I’ve built up an immunity to his charisma from working with him in the past. The kind of job I used to have—working in such close proximity to him—was enough to desensitize me from his cruel, borderline-manipulative tendencies.

I definitely did not miss playing personal assistant to Mr. Holland.

“I only knew that—“ The blender whirred loudly as it homogenized the strawberries, bananas, ice, and milk before I brought it to a stop. “—because of Harrison. Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I’m disappointed, Y/N.” Tom pouted, feigning hurt. “I arrived last week. Thought I’d surprise you.”

Looking around, I saw huge luggages carelessly strewn across the wooden floorboards. I grimaced at the realization that true to Tom Holland nature, he hadn’t even bothered to unpack.

“Truly, I’m surprised,” I replied, training my voice to sound bored. I grabbed a glass into which I transferred the blender’s contents. Because there was more than enough for one, and because of the sheer goodness of my heart, I asked Tom if he would like a smoothie.

Of course the glutton would like a smoothie.

“Actually, I’m good,” he said. “Thanks, though.”

Huh.

“I’d like a smoothie,” came Harrison Osterfield’s voice as he sauntered into the living room. A shit-eating grin was plastered on his face, and it was getting increasingly difficult not to slap off. “Hi Y/N. Thanks for coming.”

Somehow, seeing his elaborately coiffed hair set something off inside me. How can he act so exuberant while the rest of us (read: me) were left to our own devices to deal with the insufferable (read: Tom)? I could feel steam coming out of my nose and ears and, before I knew it, I had downed my glass and slammed it on the counter with a resounding thump.

“You can get your own smoothie.”

Harrison held his hands up in mock surrender, but he was laughing. “Woah, there. You seem upset.”

“Why do you think I am, Haz?” I challenged. Before he could open his mouth to speak, I pressed on, “Right. You forgot to tell me who’d be getting the door for me.”

“You wouldn’t have come,” was his pathetic reply. My eyes followed him as he lazily plopped down on the royal-blue couch, shamelessly lounging about in the heat of my anger.

I took the spot next to him, willing every muscle not to pounce and put him in a chokehold. “That justifies it perfectly!”

As if he hadn’t heard a word, Harrison grabbed the remote control from the table, turned on the TV, and flipped through the channels. At this point, I was livid and fuming from his blatant lack of regard to my situation. I was about to throw the “this is why we don’t hang out anymore” card when he pointed a finger to the TV, commanding me to look.

At first, I was confused. Then my mouth hung agape.

There, on CNN, was a portrait of Harrison. These days, that was no longer a rarity. Seeing as he was all over the media, picking up guest roles for established television dramas, and getting invited to countless talk shows, it was almost natural.

No, the real shock came with the news headline at the bottom of the screen, screaming in bold letters against a red backdrop.

“Harrison Osterfield to star in an up and coming historical drama directed by Martin Scorsese.”

What the…

Scorsese?!

Martin fucking Scorsese!

“Yup,” Haz said nonchalantly, but the pride in his voice was unmistakable. “Your little childhood friend just landed his first starring role.”

Suddenly, all hostility left my body at once. “Oh my God, Haz! That’s amazing. W-Wow. And Scorsese too! That’s been your dream since… forever.”

“Exactly! This is huge, Y/N. Absolutely mad.”

“I’ll miss you, bro,” came an uninvited voice. I was so overjoyed and completely thrilled for my friend that I didn’t even notice Tom had managed to wedge his head between mine and Harrison’s from behind the couch. His arms were hung over the back cushion, pinching Haz’s cheek as commendation and the other accidentally grazing my bare shoulder. I pulled away.

“Miss him? Where’s he going?” I asked.

“Nowhere. At least, not now,” Tom winked. “Come on, Haz, tell her already.”

I narrowed my eyes, looking back and forth between the two boys. “Tell me what?”

“Don’t freak out before you’ve heard the whole thing, but—“

“Don’t start your sentences like that!” I scolded. “Now I’m kind of already freaking out, thanks.”

“Okay. I know this will come as a shock to you, but I need you to take your spot back as Tom’s personal assistant.”

Harrison spoke fast and managed to get it all out in one breath, but the words echoed in my mind in slow-motion. When I didn’t answer, Haz took it as a sign to continue.

“I obviously have other things to pursue now, and with the second Spider-Man movie filming next week, he’ll really need you.”

“No. Stop talking. Why?! It doesn’t have to be me!” I protested when the air returned to my lungs.

Harrison pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Y/N, you know I wouldn’t do this to you if I had a choice. I know this is all so last-minute, but that’s exactly why it has to be you. You’ve worked with Tom in the past, and have shown your skill and competence. They trust you!”

“They?” I raised my eyebrows at Tom, who could only shrug in response.

“My manager.” A pause. “And me, I guess.”

“I find that hard to believe,” I glared. “Two years ago, you fired me out of fucking nowhere so you could spend some quality time with your best friend! And now in your most desperate time, you call for me?”

“I thought you’d be happy,” Tom hummed, but we both knew of the strain that the past had placed on whatever friendship we had. Following the events, I unfollowed him on social media shortly, and he did the same six months later when he finally noticed. We’d never reconciled since then.

It wasn’t that I grew attached to my boss that I was so bitter about it. No, it was nothing personal. But as someone who only knew to be completely invested in their work, getting laid off for no valid reason never quite sat well with me. Not to mention the mountain of bills I had to tend to in the wake of my unemployment.

Sensing the rising tension, Haz interjected. “Please, Y/N. At least do it for me. I won’t be able to do Scorsese if I can’t find a replacement. I don’t want to leave Tom with just anyone.”

The softness in his eyes spoke volumes to me. I’ve always cared for Harrison deeply, and if I was the one thing that came between him and his dream, I’d never be able to forgive myself.

Also, I was sold the moment he said, “It’s only for six months—just until they can screen and select someone else. They promised to double the pay. Triple, if you want me to pull some strings.”

“Fine,” I grumbled.

“Thank you!” He beamed and pulled me into a one-armed hug. “God, I love you so much.”

I couldn’t help the smile on my face. “But I still start next week, so you can save your praise until then.”

“Nope. You start in three hours! Tom’s leaving for LA tonight, so you’re taking him to the airport. His bags are ready,” he said, motioning to the luggages I saw earlier. “Then pick him up again next week, when he’ll start filming here in London.”

Harrison was already barking orders at me, much to my chagrin. Had he not appeased me a while ago, I would have slapped his words right back at him. But no, I was playing nice starting now for the duration of six months.

“I knew you’d come along,” Tom whispered in my ear when Haz excused himself to grab the itinerary.

“You shut up,” I pointed a finger at him. “You had nothing to do with this.”

A/N: a short and sweet first chapter for you! send me a message to be tagged in this (i’ll start doing the reblog-for-a-tag in future chapters once i’ve established that people actually wanna read this lol). in the meantime, please help me by commenting and reblogging the hell out of this first one; that shit encourages us writers uwu <3 my ask box is also open for any prompts, questions, and suggestions, so feel free to drop by. let’s be friends!

if you’re still reading, send in red and blue hearts for our boi tom holland!

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ethxndolan · 7 years ago

Text

Let It Go (G.D.)

Summary: Y/N and Gray had a bad breakup and when a series of events force them together they realize they can’t stand to be around each other ... but maybe there’s more still there than either one wants to admit.

A/N: I swear to god this is my last emo story for a while im so sick of it im moving on to angst lmao

Word Count: 10,074

Warnings: TYPOS and also bad smut? it’s not like crazy detailed so don’t get excited but technically it is there

MASTERLIST

My breath catches and ice runs through my veins as my eyes land on him. I despise the longing I currently feel bubbling in my stomach. He doesn’t deserve it. My eyes refuse to rip away from him, almost as if they need to look after a year of not seeing him.

He looks mostly the same, but I can tell time has passed. His brown floppy hair is longer and is pushed back to have a more sleek look for tonight’s formal event. I can tell he’s gotten buffer, stronger and more confident with himself. His presence in the ballroom is even more demanding than it was before, drawing everyone’s attention to him unexplainably.

When his hazel eyes catch mine from across the room my blood stops pumping. I stop blinking, breathing, performing every bodily function that is vital to living because I am totally consumed by his stare. I watch as his face hardens as he looks at me, old memories rising to the surface of his mind. My eyes wander to the person standing next to him, Vanessa, and I instantly feel like I’m breaking out into hives.

I turn away from them suddenly needing a drink to get through the rest of this charity event. I knew he was going to be here tonight, his parents were hosting the event for god’s sake, but I didn’t think it would hurt so much to see him.

I walk up to the bar and order a vodka and cranberry juice, insisting the bartender not go light on the vodka. The tart drink hits my tongue and instead of taking away my thoughts of Grayson, it only brings back new ones.

When we were fifteen we snuck into my parent's liquor cabinet and stole vodka. When I told Gray we were supposed to drink it with cranberry juice because that’s how my mom drank it, his face twisted with disgust. His nose scrunching up in a way that I would come to love so deeply. When he tasted the vodka straight, he quickly got over his dislike of cranberry juice and happily accepted the mixer.

My intense gaze on the drink was broken when I heard my name. “Y/N?” Ethan’s voice brought a smile to my face, the movement feeling unfamiliar from the muscles having not been used for so long.

“E!” I exclaimed. I set my drink down and threw myself into his arms, inhaling his scent that reminded me so much of home.

“I didn’t think you were actually going to show up,” he said. “You’ve been dodging just about anything Gray might have a ten percent chance at showing up at.”

I stepped out of his embrace a little awkwardly, not wanting to tackle this subject head-on. “Yeah…” I muttered as my pathetic response.

He lightly grabbed my chin and forced my eyes to meet his. “Hey, you’re family, Y/N. Always have been, always will be. Grayson and you breaking up will never change that. You’re always welcome with us,” he softly commanded. I knew he was right and I didn’t avoid him and his entire family out of fear of acceptance, but rather I just couldn’t stand to look at Gray.

“It wasn’t just a simple break up, Ethan. It’s hard to see him, let alone be around him. That’s why I’ve been distant, it has nothing to do with you guys.”

Ethan’s hand dropped from my chin and he let out a deep sigh. “I know… I just-“ he shook his head and stopped himself. I watched him bury his true feelings deep within him, just as he always did, and put a bright smile on his face. “Well, any way you’re here now. Do you think I can steal a dance?”

He stuck his hand out for me to take and I gladly accepted his invitation, following him out to the dance floor. “I swear to god Ethan if you step on my toes again…” I threatened.

He swung me around and pulled me close to him, guiding my arms around his neck and softly placing his hands on my waist. “You know I’m a hazard, you shouldn’t wear open-toed shoes,” he retorted.

“Steel-toed combat boots don’t exactly go with formal wear.” Our playful banter came to a halt when someone cleared their throat behind me. The way Ethan instantly tensed, I knew it could only be Grayson. I stepped out of Ethan’s arms and stood to the side. Cowardly avoiding Grayson’s gaze. “Well, I’ll leave you guys to it,” I said, assuming Grayson needed to talk to E.

“Actually,” Gray’s guttural voice said, “I need to talk to you.”

My eyes shot up to his instantly, confusion palpable on my face. We hadn’t talked in a year since the breakup and now he wants to chat at his family’s annual charity function? The tension radiating off his body told me this wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation.

Ethan squeezed my arm, “Catch me later, okay?” I nodded in response and he walked away leaving Gray and me alone.

Gray stood with his hands in his pockets and his demeanor seemed to imply aloofness, but I knew him so well I could see the tick of his jaw and I knew he was actually uncomfortable. “Do you want to go out to the balcony?” I suggested.

He nodded and followed me out into the chilly summer night. I walked up to the railing and leaned my hands on it, my eyes scanning the vast countryside before us.

“Why are you here, Y/N?” Gray asked. I knew this wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation, but the cold bluntness of his words truly shocked me.

“What?” I asked in disbelief. “You’re brother literally just finished yelling at me for not coming around enough.”

Gray clenched his jaw and looked away “He shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why the fuck not? Your parents invited me,” I shot back.

“And they should have asked me first, but they didn’t. You being here is uncomfortable… for Vanessa,” he said. The way he hesitated to say her name made me think it was actually him who was uncomfortable. He wasn’t usually one to cower away from the truth.

Venom dripped from my voice as I said, “Oh, I’m so sorry for Vanessa. It must be tough for her showing up with a stolen boyfriend.”

Grayson ground his teeth together. “She didn’t steal me,” he insisted.

“You’re right, that gives her too much credit and takes away from your starring role as the cheating boyfriend.” I looked at him and the images of him and another girl flashed across my mind. No matter what I did I couldn’t seem to forget them.

“I didn’t cheat.”

“So you’ve said a million times. Look, I don’t want to rehash any of this okay? Let’s just agree to avoid each other because that’s been working pretty well so far. Have a lovely evening with your girlfriend,” I spit and turned to walk away.

“Y/N,” Gray softly called. I stopped but didn’t turn to look at him. “She’s not… she’s not my girlfriend. I haven’t talked to her since everything went down a year ago either. She reached out to me last week wanting to come tonight for her work. But she’s not my girlfriend.”

I didn’t bother with a response, just headed back into the party.

My attendance at the charity event clearly made everyone think that it was finally okay for Grayson and me to be in the same room. That was how I found myself standing on his parent’s front porch. My parents and his had always been best friends so we all practically grew up together. It was great when Gray and I started dating, our moms wouldn’t shut up about how they always knew this would happen and how they couldn’t wait for the wedding.

Our break up kind of ruined the dynamic between our families.

I opened the front door and stepped in. “Hello?” I called out. I was kind of taken aback by how familiar the house was and how much I missed being here. I’d spent half my childhood running around this house with Ethan and Grayson.

“Y/N?” I heard my mom call. “Everyone’s out back!”

I walked through the house and went into the backyard where I was quickly enveloped in tons of hugs and greetings by everyone except for Grayson. I could feel his icy glare following me around. As I took a seat in the only empty chair left next to him I said, “It’s like I know you’re obsessed with me, but if you keep staring at me that intently you’re going to go cross-eyed.”

Gray scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself. And Jesus, can you scoot over? You’re practically in my lap.” He made an effort to lean in the other direction.

I leaned closer to him and whispered, “You used to like that.”

He side-eyed me. “I used to like a lot of things that were a mistake.”

My jaw fell open and before I could respond to him I was pulled into a conversation with his mom. Gray and I ignored each other as best as we could throughout the dinner. It was clear us sitting together was no accident, but both of us overemphasized just how great we were doing after the break-up to stop any of their lingering hopes.

As the late summer sun set, everyone grabbed a drink and headed over to the fire pit. I excused myself and wandered into the house to use the restroom. After I had finished, I opened the door to find Grayson standing right outside. “New kink?” I asked. “Listening to people pee? Got to admit, that’s kind of weird.”

He cocked a brow. “Why are you so interested in my sex life? Are you not getting any? Or do they just not live up to me? Do they not choke you the way I do?” His cockiness used to be funny, but now it was just downright annoying.

“Oh, believe me, Ethan has exceeded all of my expectations. I truly didn’t know it could be that good,” I taunted. It was a lie and we both knew it, but I could see it still got to Gray as his face twisted with anger.

He laughed, but it sounded forced. “So, it is that you're not getting any. That explains why you seem so uptight. Maybe you should invest in a vibrator to help you out.”

“Mmm, that’s not a bad idea,” I said. “It would be nice to know what an orgasm feels like for once.”

I started to walk to walk away, but Gray grabbed my arm and pulled me back. “Baby, I used to have you withering underneath me begging me for release. It’s just too bad you experienced the best of your life so young. It’s going to be a long, mediocre road ahead of you.”

“Well, I guess then the most logical thing to do would be to hit up Ethan, right? I mean you guys are pretty similar all across the board. Although, I always did think he was bigger than you.”

Gray’s eyes narrowed into slits. “It’s a fluke you landed one Dolan, don’t waste your time trying to land another.”

I shrugged nonchalantly. “It can’t be that hard. After all, you somehow convinced another girl to sleep with you and we both know how awkward you can be.” I ripped my arm out of his grasp and started walking towards the back door. “Hey, Ethan!” I called out.

I heard the bathroom door slam shut.

I double checked the text Ethan had sent me with the address of the party. I groaned when I pulled up to the mansion. Cars parked everywhere, the faint thumping of music could be heard, people littered all over the yard. I was in the mood to party, but Ethan had promised it wouldn’t be some big thing.

I climbed out of my car and had to shimmy my short skirt down because it had ridden up so much. It had been a while since I had gone out so I held nothing back; short shirt, tight top, too much makeup.

I texted Ethan telling him I was here and he quickly replied saying he was in the kitchen. I walked into the house and had to push my way past sweaty bodies to finally stumble into the kitchen.

“Y/N!” Ethan yelled. His cheeks were flushed red from the alcohol he had already consumed. He pulled me in for a quick side hug as he led me towards the makeshift bar. “What’ll it be?”

I gave him my best devilish smile. “I think it’s a tequila kinda night, what about you?”

He chuckled and grabbed the half-empty bottle of Jose Cuervo. “I think the combination of you and tequila has supplied me with some of my best memories.” Ethan grabbed three shot glasses and messily filled them up.

He handed me a slice of lime and the salt shaker. I licked the back of my hand between my thumb and pointer finger before pouring salt onto the wet skin. I held the salt shaker out for Ethan to grab, but he shook his head in response. “You’re not having one?” I asked confused.

He grinned back at me. “Nah, these are all for you.”

I snorted and rolled my eyes. He really was determined to get me fucked up tonight. I handed him my car keys. “It’s your job to make sure I get home tonight,” I said.

He sloppily saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”

I took a deep breath preparing myself before licking the salt. I grabbed the shot class and quickly downed the liquid. I grabbed the lime slice next and sunk my teeth into the tart fruit, which instantly helped ease some of the burn from the tequila.

A few shots later I was standing with Ethan in the family room with some of our friends that I hadn’t seen in awhile. I was the right amount of drunk where bad decisions started to seem like good ideas, so when Nick asked me to be his beer pong partner I happily agreed. I followed him through the house until we reached the dining room where a long table had been set up to accommodate beer pong.

We watched the game before us finish and then we were called up for our turn. I started to arrange the cups into a triangle formation as Nick poured in the beer. My eyes looked up to inspect our opponents when I saw Grayson and Vanessa standing at the opposite end of the table. Vanessa was setting up their side, but Gray’s eyes were locked on mine. I made a mental note to strangle Ethan later, he had promised me Gray wouldn’t be here. Nick nudged me which dragged my attention away from Grayson.

“He going to distract you?” Nick asked.

I smirked at him, “Fuck no.”

The game started off innocent enough as we were both pretty much tied. It was when Vanessa started complaining about drinking beer that things started to heat up.

“Why play beer pong if you don’t like beer?” I quietly asked Nick. Or so, I thought I had asked quietly, but Vanessa icy glare told me she had heard me perfectly clear. Nick and I giggled in response, too drunk to care.

I tossed the ping pong ball and sunk it into one of their 4 remaining cups. It was Vanessa’s turn to drink and I could tell she was not happy about it. “I’m over this, Grayson,” she whined.

“The game’s almost over,” he said, hardly acknowledging her. He grabbed the solo cup and attempted to hand it to her.

“No, seriously, I’m done,” she said. With that, she turned and walked away. Gray just shrugged and finished the beer himself.

“Well looks like we’re uneven now,” Nick stated. “I guess I’ll just have to drop out to keep the playing field even.” My eyes whipped to him, desperately pleading for him not to leave. He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, “I’m going to get another drink, you better win for us.”

I turned my attention back to the makeshift beer pong table to see Grayson clenching his jaw in anger. “It’s your turn again,” he growled. I picked up the second ping pong ball but missed the shot.

“You always did have bad aim,” he teased.

“Bad aim…. bad taste in guys… What can you do?” The few people watching the game who knew we were exes laughed. That only made Grayson angrier.

The game continued with quiet tension until we each had one cup left. I held the ping pong ball in my hand as an idea came to mind. I was well past drunk, and definitely rapidly heading towards trashed, so it seemed like a great idea. “How about we make a bet?” I asked. “Winner gets to ask the other person one question, and the loser absolutely has to tell the truth.”

“That’s kinda lame,” Gray said. “I was really hoping you were going to say loser has to skinny dip in the pool or something.”

I shook my head. “Nope, they just have to answer a question. Honestly.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “You’re so sure you’re going to win aren’t you?”

I bit my lip as my eyes raised up to meet his. I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol coursing through my veins or what, but there was an intensity in his eyes I hadn’t seen in a long time. I did my best to ignore the feeling growing between my legs. “Mhm,” I replied, “I’m going to win.”

“And you always say I’m the cocky one. You know if I win, which I will, I can ask you about what you were writing in your diary that one day in middle school.”

Blood rushed to my cheeks as I remembered the exact moment he was talking about. He had walked up to me writing in my diary in my backyard and he had begged me to tell him what I was writing about. I couldn’t tell him the truth so I slammed it shut and quickly closed my little lock on it. Grayson had never let that day go, he had constantly pestered me about it for months after but I refused to tell him. It would be even worse to admit I was writing about my crush on him now that we were exes.

“I guess I’ll just have to tell you then,” I said. I tossed the small ball and groaned as it completely missed the cup. My vision was extremely blurry and it was definitely affecting my aim. I was just hoping Grayson was drunker than me.

Gray smirked at me as he grabbed the ball. “You can still back out now if you want,” he offered.

I shook my head. “I’ve never backed out of a bet before, Dolan. I won’t start tonight.”

“Whatever you say.” Grayson tossed the ping pong ball and I watched as it landed into my last solo cup. “Drink up,” he said with a grin plastered on his face.

I picked up the wet ping pong ball from inside the cup and threw it at him in annoyance. To my utter dismay, it completely missed him. I drank the last cup of beer in defeat. As I finished the last gulp, I wondered if that might have been one drink too many as I was seeing two Grayson’s. And I knew the duplicate wasn’t Ethan.

Gray walked up to me with a stupid smirk on his face. “Don’t worry, I’ll cash in my question when you're sober so you can remember every detail about what you wrote that day.”

“Personally, I’m not sure you’re going to want to know what it was about. Might be hard to hear what I said about your brother…” I bit my lip as I looked at him, trying to stop the grin from spreading across my face. “Anyway, where do you think he went? He told me to catch up with him later.”

“Probably with Vanessa,” Gray said.

Ice shot through my veins as I stared at him with no response. I pushed past Gray and stumbled through the house actually looking for Ethan, but not for the reasons I told Gray. I just wanted to be with my friend. I finally found him sitting outside with a few other people. It took me a minute to figure out how to operate the sliding glass door, but once I finally did I stepped out into the cool night air.

Ethan beamed up at me from his plastic chair. “You win?” he asked.

I shook my head and hiccuped in response. “No, you’re stupid brother beat me,” I slurred.

Ethan laughed and stood up from his chair. “Here have a seat, I’m getting nauseous just watching you sway,” he said as he guided me into the chair. I sat down awkwardly with a plop, not having full control of my body.

I grabbed Ethan’s arm and tugged him down so he was bent over facing me at eye level. “E, I just want you to know,” I hiccuped, “That I love you with all of my heart and soul, and that the other twin will never change that. Also, I’ve inferred to him multiple times that you and I are going to have sex, so I would prefer if you didn’t like outright deny it, you know?”

Ethan laughed and kissed my forehead. “I love you to,” he said. “But, if you think there’s any way in hell Gray will ever actually believe we would sleep together I think it means you drank too much.”

I nodded. “I think I drank too much to.”

The party started to dwindle down and I felt myself fading fast. I was sprawled across the plastic chair ready to make it my bed for the night when Ethan and Grayson came outside.

“Dude, she’s wrecked,” E said, referring to me.

“It’s your fault,” Gray replied, his tone cold. “I watched you practically pour the tequila down her throat.”

Ethan held up his hands in defense. “The first five were on me, sure. Six, seven and eight were all on her. And don’t act so innocent, you didn’t have to beat her at beer pong.”

“If I had known she was eight shots deep I never would have played her at all,” he growled. Gray walked over to me and crouched down to look at me. “How are you feeling, baby?” he asked.

“Mmmmm,” was all I could manage to reply.

Gray sighed and I watched through heavy eyes as he pushed my hair out of my face. I wished I wasn’t so drunk so I could feel his touch again, even if it was just only this once. He wrapped my arm around his neck and then slid his arms under me, easily picking me up.

“Let’s go,” he said to Ethan. I snuggled closer to Grayson, burrowing my face into his neck as he walked through the house. I was too drunk to care what he might think of the action.

“Gray!” Vanessa’s shrill voice called, “Where are you going?”

“Home,” he replied shortly.

“Can I come with you?” she asked.

“No, I have to take care of Y/N,” he said.

Vanessa faced seemed to twist with disgust. “She’s not your girlfriend anymore. She’s not your responsibility, you don’t have to take care of her.”

Grayson’s voice was gruff as he spoke, “I’ll always take care of her.”

My eyes shot open and I knew I only had seconds to spare. I untangled myself from Grayson’s sheets and had to practically climb over him to get of out his bed because it was pressed against the wall. When my feet hit the floor I sprinted to his bathroom and made it to the toilet just in time as everything from last night came back up.

When I finally finished I flushed the toilet and rested my forehead against the cool porcelain, too dizzy and nauseous to care. The light flicked on and Gray stood in the doorway in nothing but his boxers as he tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes. His soft brown tendrils were a complete mess, but he always looked so cute when he’d just woken up. Gray walked over and took a seat on the edge of the bathtub that was right next to me. “You okay?” he asked.

“No,” I moaned.

He snorted a little in response. “You going to throw up again?”

“Definitely.”

“How much time do we have?”

I shrugged. “Few minutes?”

Gray nodded and got up leaving me alone in the bathroom. My head was pounding, I was still drunk and couldn’t see straight, and my stomach was not happy about the torture it endured earlier in the night.

He walked back into the bathroom carrying a water bottle and a piece of bread. As soon as I saw him, I was bent back over the toilet heaving. Gray put the stuff down and immediately crouched down next to me, rubbing my back and holding my hair out of my face.

“It’s nice to know I still have some effect on you,” he said lightly.

“Not a good one.”

“I’ll take what I can get, I guess.”

When it finally passed I collapsed back against the tub, it was truly the only thing keeping me from lying on the ground and going to sleep right there. Gray picked up my wrist and took off my hair tie. He leaned forward and his arms encased me and as he gathered my hair and attempted to put it through the small loop. His familiar scent was so enticing I couldn’t stop my head from leaning forward to press against his chest.

Gray was still fighting with my hair, but it felt nice and reminded me of when he used to run his fingers through it. “How the fuck do you work these things?” he asked.

A moan was my only reply. I could barely wrap my head around the idea of a hair tie, let alone explain to him how to use one. He must have found some success because he leaned back and pushed me off of him. His warm eyes scanned me. “You’re still trashed aren’t you?”

I started to nod but it only increased the pain in my head. “Yessssss.”

Gray sighed and leaned over to grab the water and bread. He untwisted the cap and tried to hand me the plastic bottle, but I evaded his efforts. “Y/N, drink the water it’s the only thing that will help. You do this every time, and then you wake up and say ‘Grayson why didn’t you make me drink water I feel like shit’.” His mocking voice brought a minuscule smile to my face.

“You don’t get to make ‘every time’ statements anymore, we haven’t seen each other in almost a year. For all you know I love drinking water now.”

“Okay, then prove me wrong and drink the water.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Y/N, bread or water. You can pick but you need one or the other. You need something in your system to throw up so you don’t start dry heaving.”

I snatched the bread out of his hands and took a microscopic bite, hating the way it felt in my mouth. I glared at him so he knew I wasn’t happy about it.

Gray sat down across from me and got comfortable, leaning his back against the cabinets.

“You don’t have to stay,” I mumbled. “Go back to sleep.”

“I’m not leaving you,” he said.

I choked on the bread as a laugh erupted from within me. “If only you had said that a year ago.”

“Y/N…”

“Was I not enough? Why did you cheat on me?” my voice conveyed way more emotion that I wanted it to, but the alcohol coursing through my veins made me not care. I just wanted to him to answer.

Gray scooted closer and put his hand on my cheek but I jerked away and he let out a painful sigh. “You’re more than enough, you’re too good for me, always have been. But that had nothing to do with what happened. And I’ve told you a thousand times I didn’t cheat on you, I literally could not have. It would have broken me.”

“Yeah okay, Gray, sure.” I laughed and tried to wink at him, but it probably came off as more of a spasm or twitch. His words were nice, but they didn’t count a year later and they certainly didn’t count when I knew for a fact there was something going on with Vanessa. My laughter faded as a tear slipped out of my eye. Gray quickly wiped it away, but I couldn’t look up to meet his gaze. “You know these are drunk tears, right? They don’t actually count. Personally, at this moment I’m really upset about the stock market and the alcohol is just exaggerating those feelings.”

“Yeah okay, Y/N, sure,” he said softly.

I finally forced myself to meet his gaze, but they only caused more tears to leak out of my eyes. “Are you over it? Have you moved on?” Silence hung in the air for a moment as his eyes searched for something in mine, but I had no idea what for. “You know these are drunk questions, right? They don’t count. The answers don’t either.”

“No,” he said the word as almost a release of breath. “No, I’m not over it. I’m not sure I ever will be.”

“Me too.”

He eyes locked onto mine. “I’m sober,” he said as if the words held more meaning than surface value.

“I’m not,” I said with a giggle. And then I threw up again.

** In the morning I desperately wanted to sneak out of Gray’s bed without waking him up, but it was futile. He was practically laying on top of me and I couldn’t get out from under him unless he moved. I nudged his arm trying to wake him up. “Grayson, wake up.”

That didn’t work, so I nudged him even harder, and not so gently. “Grayson, wake the fuck up,” my voice was firm.

His eyes fluttered open and they looked so soft and sweet as they gazed at me. The arm that was wrapped around my waist pulled me in closer to him so he truly was on top of me, his face buried into my neck. “Mmm,” he cooed.

It would have been so easy to let go of my irritation and just enjoying laying here with him, but the alcohol was definitely out of my system and I couldn’t lie to myself anymore.

“Grayson. I said-“

I was cut off when his hand landed on top of my mouth, cutting off my ability to talk. My hands were pretty much trapped under him, leaving me completely defenseless. “Shh,” he said, “Can’t we just lay here and reminisce for a little while?” I tried to talk with his hand over my mouth, but my words came out as jumbled up mumbling. I stuck my tongue out and licked his hand, hoping he would jerk away. I felt Grayson smile into my neck and let out a soft chuckle. “I don’t know why you think that would work. Your tongue has touched practically every inch of me, and you forget that I used to love watching you suck on my fingers.”

I managed to wiggle one of my arms out from under him and pull his hand off of my face. “Grayson, seriously get off of me.” When he still didn’t move I felt my blood start to boil in anger. “I don’t think Vanessa would appreciate this very much.”

He started to shift a little, making me think he was going to get up, but all he did was find a more comfortable position. “Probably not,” he said, “But that’s irrelevant. I told you she’s not my girlfriend, we’re not together. Not even a little bit. I did her a favor and let her come to the charity function, but that’s it, I’ve been dodging her ever since.”

“How wonderful,” I seethed sarcastically. “Now, can you please get off of me?”

Grayson lifted his head up and hovered right over me. “Do you think there’s any way we can be in each other’s lives again?”

“Interesting you should ask that when only a week ago you were telling me that I wasn’t welcome at your family’s charity function. Also, you kidnapped me last night, so I’m not exactly filled with warm and fuzzy feelings right now.”

He let out a deep sigh and rested his forehead against mine. I wanted to hate it, I wanted to pull away, but despite what I thought I wanted my body betrayed me and relaxed into him. “That was fucked up what I said last week. I didn’t — I shouldn’t have — damn, I don’t know. I was so shocked to see you and I was mad at you. God, I’ve tried so hard to hate you and move on from this whole thing. And you can stop bugging your eyes out like that, I know you blame me for everything, but Y/N, you never gave me the chance to explain. So, when I saw you I was an asshole. And then I watched you walk away from me for a second time that night and it hurt even more than the first—“

“Grayson,” I cut him off. “Can you please get off of me?” My heart couldn’t handle his words, because no matter what they didn’t change anything. It would only hurt both of us more for him to continue. We were far safer when we were just taunting each other.

He looked into my eyes for a moment before relenting and rolling off of me. I climbed out of bed and quickly changed into my clothes from the party. I opened his door but found that my feet couldn’t carry me away. I bit my lip and turned back, looking at him lying in bed watching me. “I think we can be in each other’s lives… eventually. I just don’t think that’s going to be anytime soon.” I stepped out of his room and closed the door behind me.

A few weeks had passed and I hadn’t heard from either Ethan or Grayson, which was both a relief and extremely anxiety-inducing at the same time. It wasn’t until my phone rang at 4 am with Ethan telling me that Grayson was in the hospital that I finally heard from them.

I didn’t even think twice, I was up and in my car driving to the hospital before I could even blink. I burst through the waiting room doors to see Ethan and his parents anxiously sitting there. Ethan jumped up and pulled me into a tight hug. “Is he okay?” I asked.

“He will be, thank God,” his mom said.

“What happened?”

“He was riding his motorcycle,” Ethan explained, “and I guess he was speeding and lost control. It’s not… super bad, but he’s pretty banged up. He cracked a few ribs, has road rash just about everywhere, and he’s currently in surgery getting his spleen taken out.” Ethan let out a deep sigh and a sad smile crossed his face. “But he’s going to be okay, it could have been worse.”

I sat with Grayson’s family in the waiting room as we waited for news about him. It took a couple of hours for the doctor to come in and let us know that he was out of surgery and that it was successful, they said we could see him when he woke up which would hopefully be in an hour or so. It was more than an hour, more like three, before we were told he was finally awake. His dad rolled his eyes and chuckled, offering a comment about how of course Grayson would make them wait forever while he slept.

Lisa squeezed my hand as she, Sean, and Ethan all got up to go see him. They offered to let me come with them, but I didn’t want to intrude on their family time.

I had drifted off in the waiting room so Ethan had to gently nudge me awake. I sat up and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. “He wants to see you,” Ethan said.

I simply nodded and got up following him through the hallways to Gray’s room. When we reached the door to his room Ethan informed me that he and his parents were going home for a few hours to refresh before returning in the afternoon. I gave him a hug and said goodbye, watching him walk away.

I lightly knocked on the door and pushed it open, walking inside. When I saw Grayson lying in the hospital bed covered in bruises and road rash, his shirt off and a bandage covering his torso, so completely pale and his face drained, I completely lost it. Tears raced out of my eyes and my hand flew to my mouth trying to muffle the sound of me gasping for breath.

I locked eyes with Gray and he lifted up his hand a little. “Come here,” he said. His voice was so scratchy and weak, it only made the tears worse as his voice was usually so strong. I walked over to his bed and placed my hand in his. He immediately squeezed it and it was a little too hard, but I felt like it was to hold onto me and make sure I wouldn’t leave. “Hi,” he croaked.

I wiped the tears from my eyes and tried to pull myself together, but it was useless. “You’re an idiot,” I choked out.

Grayson softly smiled at me and I felt as his eyes wandered all over my face as if he was making sure to memorize it. “Everyone else at least had the decency to ask if I was okay before chastising me.” He chuckled a little, but it quickly turned into more of a cough and pain was clear on his face.

I reached my hand up and ran it through his hair. His eyes fell shut at the soothing gesture. “I’m not everyone else.” When I pulled both my hands away from him, his eyes shot open in alarm. They relaxed when he realized I was just pulling a chair closer to his bed. Once I was seated I reached up and interlocked our hands again. I placed a kiss on the back of his hand and then rested my forehead against his arm, needing contact with him in any way possible. “God, Grayson,” I mumbled.

His other hand found its way into my hair as he started to run his fingers through it. I lifted my head up and I could see clear pain across his face from the action, but he didn’t stop. “I’m okay,” he insisted. “I’m okay.”

I sat with him for a while, not wanting to leave until his family returned. We didn’t say much, just held hands and watched a soap opera on TV.

After some time, Grayson dramatically groaned and threw his head back. “I’m so fucking bored!”

“Wouldn’t be here if you’d never gotten the bike…” I mumbled.

“What was that, Y/N? Care to speak up?” His tone told me he heard exactly what I said. We didn’t argue about him getting the bike two years ago, but I certainly made it clear I thought it was a death trap. A sexy death trap.

I gave him a fake smile and said, “I just said I hope you feel better.”

He rolled his eyes. “You don’t always have to be condescending, you know.”

“I am not condescending! You’re just a fucking idiot with no concept of personal safety. The only thing that surprised me about this whole thing is that Ethan isn’t lying in the bed next to you.” I glared at him and sat back in my chair crossing my arms.

“Yeah, guess he was to busy with you.”

I groaned. “Don’t.”

“Why not?” he chided. “You’ve had no reservations about making your intentions with Ethan perfectly clear.”

“You know none of it’s true.” 

“Do I?” The way his voice raised at the end made me think he was actually starting to believe I would go after his brother.

I lightly laughed, but it was forced. “Wow, did they check you for a concussion too? You must have really hit your head if you think I’m actually capable of that.”

Grayson let out a deep breath and reached for my hand. “Y/N, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to be a dick. I actually really want to talk to you—“

There was a knock on the door and I was expecting to see a nurse walk in or his family, but instead, it was Vanessa. “Oh my God, Grayson!” she squeaked. She ran over and pretty much pushed me out of the way, forcing my hand to disconnect with Grayson’s. She was crying uncontrollably and going on and on about how worried she was and how she scared him to death and how she didn’t know what she would do if she lost him.

Clearly, I didn’t belong here anymore so I grabbed my purse and stood up. As I was walking towards the door Gray called out to me, “Y/N, please don’t go.”

“No, it’s okay I have to get going anyway. Get better, Gray,” I said before opening the door.

“Y/N! Wait!” his weak voice cracked as he tried to yell for me. I didn’t stop.

Ethan kept me updated on how Grayson was doing, letting me know that he was getting better quicker than the doctor’s expected and that he would be released any day now. He told me that Grayson kept asking to see me, but I told him that I was super busy and couldn’t make it. A complete lie.

It was late on a Friday night and I was lying on the couch watching TV. It was brutally storming outside and the loud thunder was making me jump every couple of minutes. A loud bang made me jump again, but I quickly realized it wasn’t thunder but that someone was knocking on my apartment door.

I slowly walked to the door wondering who the hell would go out in such bad weather. I opened the door and gasped when I saw a soaking wet Grayson standing there. “What the hell, Gray?”

“I want to ask you my question,” he said. His eyes were dead set on me in a way that made me squirm a little.

“What are you talking about? Grayson, what the hell are you doing here? Ethan literally told me a few hours ago that you would be released in a few days.”

“My question,” he emphasized. “That I won at beer pong, remember?”

“You came all the way here to ask about what I was writing in my diary in middle school? Gray, you’re injured, it’s irrelevant I can tell you anytime.”

He shook his head causing water droplets to fall off his wet strands of hair. “That’s not my question.”

“I still don’t understand why—“

“Can I come in?” I opened my mouth to retort about that being a waste of a question when he cut me off again with a slight chuckle. “That’s not my question either.”

I opened the door up wider and allowed for him to walk in. After I shut the door and turned around he was staring at me intensely. “Okay… What’s your question?”

“You have to answer absolutely truthfully, right? That was the bet? No matter what the question is?” I watched him run his hand through his hair in a futile attempt to push it back, a nervous tick I knew he had.

I nodded. “Yeah, I believe those were the terms.” I began to grow nervous as I impatiently waited for him to speak.

Grayson looked away and gulped. He then turned and locked eyes with me. “Are you still in love with me?” His voice was strong and commanding, holding no reservations about asking me this. It felt like all of the air and blood in my body left instantly. I just stared at him a shell of a person, confused as hell by what was going on.

Dripping wet, in sweatpants and a T-shirt, goosebumps covering his beat up arms, face scratched up and bruised and covered in scruff, and his eyes staring at me with so much passion that all thoughts disappeared from my head. “What?” my voice squeaked.

“You heard me,” he said.

I tore my eyes away from him, unable to hold his gaze. “Grayson, I don’t think this is a good idea—“

“You have to answer. You made the bet. This is my question.” He put his hands in the pockets oh his sweatpants which only made him seem more intimidating. Anyone looking in on this conversation would have been surprised he was asking me if I loved him.

I couldn’t look him in the eyes so kept my focus on the white t-shirt he was wearing that had become a little transparent with the rain. I made my lips and tongue form the one word I never wanted to say to him, “No.”

Grayson immediately responded, “Liar.”

“What?!” I shrieked, my words flying out rapidly. “I have to answer honestly, and that’s the truth. I’m sorry if that’s not what you want to hear, but it doesn’t mean it’s not true.” I couldn’t believe he was calling me out.

He shook his head, only causing more water droplets to land on his shirt. “I call bullshit. You’re such a bad liar, Y/N.”

“I’m not lying!” my voice cracked in a way that didn’t help my case.

“I’ve known you my whole life,” Grayson said. “We were best friends long before we were lovers, I know how to read you like a book.” He boldly took a step closer to me. I tried to step back, but I just ran into the door. “I’ve seen the way you look at a guy you’re interested in, the way you look at a guy your in love with. I know because it pained me to see you look at someone else like that, but when you finally looked at me like that I made sure to memorize it because I never wanted to forget. You’re not looking at me right now like I’m just your ex, like everything’s in the past. You’re looking at me like our past isn’t in the past — in fact, you’re looking at me like it never ended.” He took a hesitant step closer to me and placed his hand softly on my cheek. “So I’m going to ask again, are you still in love with me?”

Gray leaned his forehead against mine and it all felt like too much so I squeezed my eyes shut, a tear leaking out. “It’s not that simple,” I insisted.

“It can be.”

“No, it really can’t be. You were my everything, Grayson. I can’t let that happen again. Losing you the first time broke me, I won’t survive a second time.” I swallowed and looked up at him, “I won’t let you hurt me again.”

Gray reached his hand out and wrapped it around my waist, pulling me even closer to him. His cold and wet body soaked through me, but I didn’t care as long as I got to be this close to him. “I don’t think I survived it either, to be totally honest. Look at me,” he quietly requested. I opened my eyes and met his. “There isn’t going to be a second time.”

“It’s not that easy—“

“Y/N, it is that easy. I never cheated on you.”

I let out a bitter cold laugh and tried to push him away from me, but he only clung to me harder. “You’re words mean nothing, Grayson.”

His free hand raised up and slammed into the wall next to me, causing me to jump. “Damnit, Y/N,” his voice was deep and frustrated. The hand that had just hit the wall raised up to rub out the tension between his eyebrows. “You never let me explain! It’s been a year and you still won’t let me explain. You’re the most stubborn, frustrating, hard-headed person I’ve ever met. You’re worse than Ethan.”

I scoffed and pushed him away from me. He only allowed me enough space to cross my arms. “Fine, then fucking explain. But if you’re so fucking innocent like you claim, I don’t see why you’ve been such an asshole to me. Seems kind of contradictory.”

Grayson let out a deep groan. “Because I was mad! Who wouldn't be when you were the fucking judge and jury and you decided to hang me before I ever got the chance to defend myself. Excuse me for being a little ticked off about that.”

“Anyway,” he started, before I could respond. “When you confronted me about cheating on you, I didn’t have an answer because I had no idea what you were talking about.” He took the time to search my eyes for something, but I tried project anger and distrust. I wasn’t sure if it was working very well. “You took that as confirmation and left without a second thought, and then when I found out what happened you never let me explain. I know our relationship was hard those last few months, I know all the traveling was getting to us, we were fighting all the time,” he leaned in a little and gripped my chin and as he looked at me, “But I never cheated on you, the thought couldn’t even occur to me. Vanessa was the one who started all the rumors, who sent you those anonymous photos of someone who looked like me and her, who went out of her way to make it seem like she was in the same place at the same time as me. It was all a lie. When she came to the hospital that day I begged and pleaded with her to tell you the truth, I may have made a deal with the devil but you can ask her all about it.” My stomach clenched at his words, I wanted so badly to believe them but it just seemed like too convenient of an answer. I saw the pictures, they were pretty damning.

“Grayson, that’s a very nice explanation, but…”

“Before the accident…” he said, “I had been so mad at you for never letting me explain, for being so quick to assume the worst about me. I wrote you off like you wrote me off, I tried to hate you and keep you at a distance telling myself that it was better this way. But it was all a lie, such a flimsy fucking lie.” He took a moment to steady his voice before continuing. “After the accident… when I was lying there in the street, you were the only thing on my mind. I begged God to let me get up just so I could walk to you. So I could tell you how much I love you, how much you mean to me, how you’re my best friend, how were meant to be together. I promised to never let you go again for the rest of my life, no matter how bad things get because we can get through it.”

With each of his words, I felt every wall, every defense I had tried to build up over the last year completely crumble. He was putting everything out in the open for me, he was bearing his soul to me, and I knew that was something that was extremely hard for him. So I let go, I let it all go.

“I believe you,” I said. “It’s not necessary for me to talk to Vanessa, because I believe you and I trust you.” A gigantic grin spread across his face. “I’m sorry I never let you explain.” I tried to show him with my eyes how sorry I was.

Grayson shook his head. “Don’t be. Things were rocky between us, the evidence was pretty condemning… I’m not sure I would have given you the chance to explain in the same situation. I’m sorry I let her into our lives. Most of all, I’m sorry I stopped trying to explain.”

The silence stretched between us as we just stared into each other’s eyes, almost as if we were making up for lost time. “Yes,” I whispered.

“What?”

“To answer your question, yes I’m still in love with you. I never stopped, it’s not possible for me to stop.”

Grayson let out a deep breath and I watched as tears pooled in his eyes, but they didn’t spill out. He put his hands under my thighs and lifted me up so we were eye level, leaving me pressed again his chest and the door. I wrapped my legs around his waist and watched as he flinched in pain. I was about to protest this position when he shook his head and tightened his grip on my thighs.

I wanted to respond, but he kissed me before I could and suddenly every word I had ever learned left my head as I focused on the way his soft lips felt against mine. It started off innocent enough, but quickly it intensified as his tongue slipped into my mouth.

I pulled his bottom lip between my teeth and elicited a deep moan from him. I could feel him getting hard between my legs and my body started to grind against him before I even knew what I was doing. Gray stepped away from the door, taking me with him. His movements were slow and I tried to get him to put me down, but he refused. “Grayson, you’re hurt we shouldn’t be…” I ran my hand along a dark bruise on his jaw and I felt the pain from that mark in my soul. He didn’t stop walking towards my bedroom. “We have all the time in the world, you should rest and heal.”

Grayson gently laid me down on my bed. His body hovered over mine and he parted my legs and made sure to press his hard-on against my core. “I haven’t been with you in over a year, I haven’t been with anyone in over a year,” he emphasized. “So I could care less if this kills me, I think it would be a great way to die.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “You’re not allowed to joke about dying, it’s too soon.” I grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him even closer to me. “I haven’t been with anyone else either,” I whispered. “Also, this is a great time to talk about,” I started to grind my hips against him, “How you’re never riding your bike again. Ever.”

He chuckled and kissed me. “That’s fine, it’s trashed anyway. But I think you’re forgetting about how great it was. Like the time we drove it to that outlook and you climbed into my lap and—“

“I remember, vividly. I was only fulfilling one of your wild fantasies. While it was super hot, it was also extremely uncomfortable for me. So you’re just going to have to come up with a new fantasy we can work on.”

Gray smirked. “I can certainly do that.”

I grabbed his neck and pulled him back to reconnect our lips, words completely forgotten. As he worked wonders on my mouth his hands slid up under my shirt, exploring places he used to know so well. He pulled away and took my shirt off, immediately followed by my bra.

I lifted up the bottom of his shirt, indicating that I wanted it off. I wanted to see his skin too. He slowly lifted it off and it was clearly causing him some discomfort. I saw all the road rash that had just begun to heal and the bruises that had turned dark and yellow in the past week. I sat up and straddled him, placing soft kisses on his chest where he was hurt. I moved onto his shoulders next and made my way to his neck where I created a few marks of my own.

I could tell he was getting extremely impatient, but I refused to speed up. With a growl he had me back under him as he worked off my leggings, carelessly throwing them somewhere in my room. He stood up and removed his own pants, exposing his tented boxers. Gray crawled back on the bed and began to place soft kisses along my legs. As he worked his way up and reached my inner thighs I began to squirm from the feeling it was eliciting deep within me. “Gray…” I whimpered, desperately needing him to stop teasing and actually touch me.

His hot breath fanned over my panties as he hovered there. He placed a soft kiss there. “Later,” he devilishly promised as he looked up at me. He quickly removed them along with his own boxers. His lips found mine as his fingers found my throbbing core. As two of his fingers slipped inside of me, we both let out moans. “You’re so wet, baby.”

I gripped his forearm that was working me as the feeling in the pit of my stomach began to build. Just as I was starting to feel my orgasm build, he pulled them out with a smirk. “We’re going to come together,” he promised. “Are you ready?”

All I could do was nod. I reached over to my nightstand and opened the door, grabbing one of the condom’s Grayson had stocked here before we broke up. He smiled as he watched me rip it open with my teeth and roll it on to him.

He lifted up my legs so they were bent at the knee, giving him plenty of access. He started off by kissing me, but when he slowly began to enter and fill me, my lips became useless as I let out a deep moan.

When he was fully in, he let out a moan that seemed to hang in the air. He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to remain in control so he wouldn’t come right away. “Fuck, baby. I told you were meant to be together, you’re made for me,” he whispered. His warm breath fanning against my face.

Gray began to move slowly, taking his time getting reacquainted with me, but it was driving me nuts. “Gray, this is a beautiful moment, really. But, baby I need you to speed up.”

He let out a laugh, but instantly followed my request and significantly increased the pace. The bed was knocking against the wall and our panting and moaning were the only sounds that could be heard. When his hand lowered and started working me along with his thrusts, I quickly found my release. My nails dug into his arm and back leaving red marks in their wake as I rode out the euphoria of my high.

Gray placed a kiss on my lips. “I love you,” he panted. With a few more quick thrusts he found his own relief and collapsed on top of me.

He burrowed into my neck and started placing light kisses there as I ran my hand up and down his back slowly. “See, this is why I wouldn’t let you reminisce or whatever that one morning. That wasn’t exactly an innocent moment you wanted to recall.”

Gray lifted his head up and hovered over me, cocking one brow. “Since when are my actions ever innocent?” With that he pulled out and started placing kisses on my chest, making his way down and leading us into a long night of reconnecting.

#ethan dolan #grayson dolan #grayson dolan imagine #dolan twins #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins smut #ethxndolan

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icharchivist · 6 years ago

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perso-rant underneath and at first i intended it to be more light hearted but welp cant dive into myself without digging the bad stuff so just ignore this as rambling.

(idk if the cut works on mobile so as usual blacklist #ichapersonal to skip it , its quite long)

its night and im noisy and all but yknow part of the reason m/lb is such a healing show for me and i rewatch it every couple of days?

i cry everytime M.arinette's family is on screen pretty badly bc i get so envious all the time. i hate my shitty family (and often can relate to A.drien's ressentment) so just seeing such a /healthy/ family being often shown litterally brings me to tears. im like C.hat in the animan episode when he stares at the family picture with a sweet smile (another detail that stupidly make me cry who allowed th i s)

like. i dont relate to A.drien's relation to his family but some of the emotional effects is often a moment of "welp. mood." and being kinda sad /for him/ even if i can feel it for myself too. but then with M.arinette's family everytime they get to be on screen i realize how happy this sort of dynamic makes me and it makes me /so envious/.

like my mom is an artist and an excellent cook but she always barred those interests from me bc it was /hers/ and it was for /her ego/ and this attitude just killed every curiosity i had and remplaced it with a complete unability to care.

i used to bake as a kid but my mom was always shutting down everything i was doing, and if i was asking for help or recieps she would just tell le "it's a secret just watch " and never letting me know tf she was doing so i stopped lmao. everytime ive tried meals since it was only for myself and with a hard mocking from family and mom saying she had a better recieps and i should just let her do so i dont even try it often. (moreeven now that the kitchen is opened to the living room and they're super judgemental when im in it)

i was messing with drawings and paints in her workshop when i was a kid but she would always point out flaws and take my tools to correct it without telling nor showing me how and it killed it, it took me until my 14yo to start doing mindless doodles and then my breakdown when i was about 20 to seriously try back to draw and do art and try different tools (until my right hand made it impossible for me to hold a tool and the failure still feels yknow)

i wanted to sew things and make clothes (at the time for my dolls) but my mom was never letting me touch the tools (that we HAD since not only she made clothes but her mom actually had a fabrique shop. like. right next door. i think it became part of my mom's trauma hating her mom and refusing us to connect with her, more so with what happened when i was 7 and we lost contact with them but still, the damn irony. and i cant remember if my grandma ever let me close her sewing material but i was a damn kid after all) so this is another thing i didnt pursue

i wanted to pick up music (piano mostly) bc my uncle is a musician but my parents never wanted to invest in that because they already gave a piano to my sister (that i wasnt allowed to use) so ye that was dropped lmao

and i started to write when i was about 11 and it was that /one thing/ i didnt need help for from anyone, completely self taught, with my own ways and tools, and my parents were always dismissive of it, never listening to me, always telling me it wasnt important, that i should focus on something else, and after other circumstances that added to that i dropped writting around my 17/18yo and it had been painful to even try to write again since.(i came back to writing around my 20yo a bit before my breakdown but after it happened it started to die out and i felt exhausted and stopped after a few months and since then i've never been able to pick up writing again ay.)

(and im not touching the obsessive elements bc like- the fact she does it for her crush makes it different, but the sort of things she does? taking pictures and putting them everywhere in her room when she hyperfixates, making overcomplicated schedules and such? i litteraly do that with fiction. i made a freaking timeline for this show. i am currently working on organizing codex from d.a and an approval guide for christ sake. and im not talking about my multiple fandom shrines in my room and the fact i legit have one for m/lb made from pictures found on merchs.

or also the fact i have a lot of passions i'd love to share and seeing M. play video games with her dad for exemple makes me so bitter when all i get is backhanded insults from my parents when i bring it up.)

So sometimes i see M. and part of me is just in awe, loving everything about her. the other part of me tho... i feel... a bit robbed? like she's such a creative kid, she's incredible and she inspires me everyday, and i cant help but think how i would have adored her when i was a kid. (im not even kidding, as a kid i requested my mom a costume of black cat for h.alloween and a l.adybug costume for the carnaval. i have pictures of that at my dad's place sadly it kills me. also my room when i was a kid used to be covered with l.adybug stickers like. HELL my mom doesnt care about my interests but last year she bought me a M/LB winter callendar (bc its been years i was mentioning i wanted one, a selfish whim but oh well) and i had a huge double take bc i was certain she didnt remember me talking about this show- and she did not. when i asked her why, she legit told me "because she reminded me of you as a kid with your pigtails your obsession for l.adybugs". like!! i cant even stress how kid!me would have adored this show and especially LB./M.) (the pigtails too this time i have proofs around there i used to carry them all the time until i was bullied for it at school. (bullying at school instead of good friends also adds to the difference in question tbh lmao))

there is something so... weird into seeing the parts of yourself that you cut yourself from in a character, and see that the main difference is because of how the family (and bullies) treated those elements so drastically differently.

my family was always neglectful but differently than A.. the things i relate to with him is how he specifically still holds on hope that his father will do better at least just for one day and his reaction when he's left down saying he's just used to it. and like normal, not every kind of abuse are the same and all but i still relate enough to feel sad.

but M. is always a whiplash of feelings like i could have been this sort of girl in a better environment.

at 13/14yo she was already making stuff up, baking, designing clothes, doing art, she was doing so many things, even forgetting the superhero part. she was being happy being a creator at her pace and with encouragement. at 13/14yo i was starting to show concerning signs of d.epression because i was trying to handle my parents's divorces and the multiple trials that followed that /i/ had to handle by finding middle grounds, allowing some of my father's blackmail to avoid worse, and by litterally having to collect infos from mails everytime to prove against some of his arguments to the judges. and my sister refusing to talk to us for a year, which caused us basically to feel very bad thinking of the eldest sister who ran away from home, and having to handle my father's harrasment and emotional abuse of constantly belittling me (fuck this was the age he legit told me i would probably end up a p.rostitute so ye!!! fuck that!!!) andd the fact my mom was also falling apart from all of it on me and i was always supposed to cheer her up while i was having a hard time in a new school and new environment away from the very few friends i had and again feeling abandonned by my sister which freaking sucks after already had suffered that from our eldest one.

but M. makes me cry every. goddam. rewatch. its like maybe the ultimate wish fufilling story of just how i would have loved my family to be. of how i think i could have turned up.

and that realization hits so badly everytime.

there's a thing with my hyperfixations where i'll always find a way to tie it back to my traumas. i dont know if im pulling straws, or if the things are there. for having watched m.lb when it came out unfazed and only got hit with that realization upon rewatching- i feel it was more me realizing "there is something there that is touching me more than before" and having an introspection to get it.

and i think the difference is that- before my breakdown the characters and stories i related to where the eternal optimistic-yet-damaged "never give up!" type of characters. When things started to go downhill to my breakdown and since then the fictions that talked to me the most were all dealing with guilt coming from toxic environment that werent your fault per se but you pierceved that way. my way to relate were to characters who felt deeply connected to their guilt (peak being c.loud of f.f7 that even topped it with the deadly skin disease making him lose will to live (because ye that happened. still hate to watch out for that so ye), and memories issues, you would have told me at 13yo when i first watched that movie that this would be what i would relate to him about 7 years later i would have laughed at your face.), which translated with pushing people away and self destructing habits.

and i know i watched m.lb the first time around that time, when i was 20/21. and that may be why i didnt feel that. that my concerns were too elsewhere to realize that. That i was too focalized on how i felt like i failed by suddenly breaking under the pressure, having all the things i've kept burried kicking me out at once, and that i couldnt afford to be a burden to anyone. and it translated with me loving characters like that because in most cases their friends ended up reminding them of what was important - and sometimes just getting frustrated about your fav being as dumb as it forces you to pull yourself back together lmao. not always working but it was there.

now im 23. i cut ties with my father for about 3/4 years now, with all the shitty things that ensued out of the last trial where he sued me and his still-happening harrasment (sometimes silly sometimes scary). My mom and step dad are suffocating me more and more everyday. my health had become so disastrous i cant even manage to go school or find a job. And more than ever im frustrated and angry.

and i think it may be a shown of recovery? perhaps linked to therapy? of while i still have guilt of falling apart- /they/ are the reason i fell apart. and I'm yet to have proper apologizes for it. i grew furious at my family. of how much i feel robbed.

lately im so angry at everything i lost, was taken of, stolen childhood all of that- because of my parents, mainly. (hell even the bullying at school - in primary school it apparently started bc of gossips about why my eldest sister ran away from home, and in middle school it was first bc my parents insisted on sending me to private school where i was an outcast. which then had me truly embrassing the outcast persona that had made it impossible for me to be at peace in the two others middle schools i went to. highschool saved my social life tbh).

i think it's therapy and recovery that is making me shift the blame and feel so angry at them. so bitter. and suddenly i see in an innocent kid show a "what could have been". same starting personality, different people to channel this.

and this is. frustrating.

but it makes me love it even more. idk if its driving anything else than ressentment but at least for the time of an episode I'm in a bubble of a.lternative universe where i can forget about my life and feel satisfied at once.

like finding a piece of myself that i deliberately broke and burried to never think about it again, and realize far later how it missed to the whole, and how damaged this piece is now, but still is.

and there is something incredibly healing about that. i would never have thought there would be this much healing out of this anger and yet satisfaction. what a strange feeling.

fiction is funny that way. the things people can get out of it to deal with their own psyche are so different one person to the next.

it's just so weird for me to go from "i relate to the horrors this character went through" to "and fuck those horrors. let me think about what could have been if this didnt happen."

even moreso knowing i had this piece of fiction before and didnt approach it that way. there's a time and a mindset for everything. apparently now was the best mindset for me huh

.......

so ye apparently i cant like something like a normal person and have to go on about how it connects to my deeply rooted traumas lmao.

anyway it's been eating me up for weeks now and it's 4:45am i have absolutly no impulse holding me back. if you sat through this piece of work im sorry. just needed it to get it out of my chest.

i'll go back to hugging my cheap-yet-lifesaving c.laire's l.adybug pillow now

good night o/

#ichapersonal

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tomcuddlesfic · 7 years ago

Text

I CHOOSE YOU

TITLE: I choose you

ONE SHOT / MULTICHAPTER: One Shot

AUTHOR : tomcuddlesfic WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: TomxActor

GENRE: fluff / romance / FIC SUMMARY: OC asks Tom to attend a work function only to have Tom acting strangely.

RATING: T

AUTHORS NOTES/WARNINGS: I never wrote fan fiction in so long I forgot all the short forms. I legit didn’t know what to call my nameless character for the longest time until I remembered ‘OC’

Also, thank you guys for being so patient with me and for sticking around. I know I’m coming in and going like the breeze and I’m so unpredictable. Thank you to everyone who has sent in prompts for me to write. You guys are amazing!

Also, let me know what you think.

I hate work functions.

When I say, I hate work functions, I mean that I would rather eat my dog Pepper’s food by the handfuls than attend one of them voluntarily. But since I was up for promotion in about a month’s time when the investment firm I worked for would merge with another medium sized firm, it meant that in order to secure my spot as a manager, I had to butter up a room full of the city’s brightest financial analysts.

“You’re going to be late if you keep changing.” Tom blew out a breath. He leaned back on his elbows and stretched out his ridiculously long legs, studying me from my bed he was sitting on. Dressed in a tailored Gucci black suit, he looked as handsome as ever. I met his eyes in the reflection of the mirror which sent my heart fluttering. He always had that effect on me.

“I look frumpy.” I tugged at the skin tight fabric clinging to my stomach. Suddenly, I regretted skipping the gym this month.

Tom rose from his position and closed the distance between us. Wrapping his solid arms around my waist, he pulled me in so that my back was against his chest. His warm spicy scent filled my senses, instantly relaxing me. I leaned in closer when he dropped his chin to the crook of my neck and smiled.

“You look divine.” He murmured into my ear, dropping a small kiss before taking my hand and leading me out of my small bedroom. “Come on, love. We have to go before I take you on the damn bed.”

I giggled and kissed him softly on the corner of his mouth.

“I’m so glad you’re going with me.” I confessed before turning off the lights to my apartment and entering into the unknown.

“So, like I was saying. Mr. Harris has to be the biggest idiot on earth.” Henry groaned, raising the cup of golden amber liquid to his mouth. He swallowed a large gulp and gave me a toothy smile.

“That’s what I told you before but you never believed me.” I rolled my eyes, laughing along with him. His laugh was infectious. Out of all the people in my department, I liked Henry the best. We had the same type of humor and it certainly helped a lot that we disliked the same people as well. There were more times than I could count where I would catch his gaze in a dry meeting run by the people we hate and we would both look at each other with disgust written on our faces.

“Watch out.” Henry cautioned, pulling me gently by my forearm towards his chest so that the group of people walking behind me could get through. I looked up at him, noticing his green eyes. Maybe it was the alcohol or the proximity but Henry looked rather dashing under the dim lighting of the banquet hall we were stationed in.

“You okay?” He asked softly.

“Yeah.” I answered, noticing that he was still holding onto my forearm.

“Hey, darling.” An arm snaked around my waist at that point, pulling me in so that my hip was against his hip. I looked up at Tom who looked down at me with hardened eyes and hiccupped, nervous as to what could be possibly running through his head. Tom’s eyes trailed from my face, down to where Henry’s hand was still on my arm.

Henry ripped his hand away from me like I was burning hot like fire.

“Hi.” I smiled warmly at Tom. He had a couple of phone calls to make and had stepped out of the hall for a moment. I was just about wondering where he went when he showed up beside me. “Everything okay?”

“Yes.” Tom smiled stiffly at me, not elaborating any further. I frowned at his response. What was going on?

“Oh!” I gasped, suddenly remembering that Tom hadn’t exactly met Henry yet. “Tom, this is Henry. He’s my partner in crime at work. And Henry, this is Tom. He’s my—”

“Boyfriend.” Tom cut me off, finishing my introduction. He stuck out his hand and shook Henry’s firmly, his eyes never leaving his.

“Nice to meet you.” Henry beamed. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I can’t say the same about you.” Tom grinned when Henry blinked, taking aback by his comment. I looked up at Tom, shocked at his uncharacteristic behaviour. He was always the charming one when he met my friends so why was he being like this now to Henry?

“Oh.” Henry let out a breathy laugh. “I’m not that interesting anyways. Probably didn’t want to waste her breath, huh?” He joked, a flicker of sadness crossing his eyes.

“Please, Henry.” I shook my head, hating how my best friend from work seemed so upset. “You make work bearable. I couldn’t stand five days a week without you next to me.”

“I feel the same way too.” Henry nodded his head before giving Tom a squeeze on his arm. “I have to run to go talk to my boss.” He paused, rolling his eyes. “It was nice meeting you, Tom. I hope we can see each other again.”

“I hope so too.” Tom said drily.

Giving a nod in my direction, Henry turned and left, leaving me with my brooding boyfriend.

“Do you want to see what they’re serving?” I asked, taking Tom’s warm hand in mine.

He looked away from me, staring at the large crowd around him. “I’m not that hungry.”

I frowned, looking around to see what could have caught his attention. He usually was always on eyes on me. Something was bothering him but I wasn’t sure what.

“Do you want to go dance?” I tilted my head to the direction of the dance floor where some of my colleagues were shuffling along to the latest pop songs from the radio.

“No, I’m fine.” Tom sighed.

“Let’s go.” I tugged his hand, leading him the way outside of the venue and into the garden. It was starting to get late. The sun had already set and the cool chilly breeze of autumn wrapped around me causing me to shiver. The sound of crickets filled the air alongside with my high heels clicking on the cobblestone path leading down towards the beds of flowers. Tom followed my lead silently, allowing me to pull him along. When we reached the center of the garden, I stopped and placed my hands on my hips, facing towards this insufferable brute.

“You’re pouty.” I commented.

“Am not.” He deflected my comment like a child and looked away.

“You’re also grumpy.” I stepped in closer, jabbing a finger into his chest.

“You’re not being fun.” Another Jab.

“You’re acting strange.” Jab.

“And you’re being rude to my friends.” Jab.

Tom swiped and grabbed my hand in his before I got to jab him again. I gasped, at his sudden action.

“Friends.” Tom rolled his eyes. “You mean, Harry?”

“His name is Henry.” I corrected him, suddenly understanding why he was acting so strange. My eyes narrowed. I took a step forward as he took a step back. Tom dropped my hand, blinking rapidly as I cornered him against the street lamp post. Tiling back my head, I grinned like a Cheshire cat.

“Tom Hiddleston, are you by any chance jealous?” I asked, enjoying every second of the look of panic on his handsome face. I loved the man but I also knew he had an ego built by his career and confidence born from years of performance on stage. To think that his ego was taken down a notch and he actually felt slightly inferior to a man I have absolutely no romantic feelings for, I was quite ecstatic to know that he wasn’t always the confident man he makes himself to be. It was also comforting to know that we both have our insecurities have the better of us from time to time.

“I’m-I’m-I’m not jealous.” He sputtered, barking out a large outlandish laugh. “I’m not jealous.” He repeated, almost like he was trying to convince himself.

“It’s okay to be jealous.” I reasoned, wrapping the silky fabric of his tie around my fist. “But there’s nothing to be jealous about because I chose you. And I will always. Choose. You.” I said slowly, looking deeply into his eyes. His shoulders relaxed, the tension visibly releasing his body. Standing up on my tippy toes, I kissed him on the mouth, savoring the taste of him.

“But don’t you ever be a twat, again.” I warned, releasing my hold on him. Without saying another word, I turned and started walking back to the venue, smiling to myself when I heard Tom’s footsteps quickly follow.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fan fiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #hiddles #fan fiction #mine #i choose you #fluff #romance

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cleareyedandbrave · 7 years ago

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10.22.17

Today feels soft. Sort of like a bitter-sweet day…I woke up in a haze, and couldn’t decipher exactly how I was feeling.

I remember being selected for a scholarship at school. I had to go to the guidance office to write a brief essay about my life and my aspirations. I felt great, and hopeful that I’d be named a national Daughter of the American Revolution.

I finished my essay and was told by Mrs. Wright that my mother was in her office, and needed to speak to me. I remember being a bit confused, as it was quite unexpected. I began worrying. I walked in, and saw my mother’s sad eyes and a box of tissues near her lap. I asked what had happened.

“Did something happen to Grandpa? Dad?”

She began tearing up again, and told me that there had been an accident. Kurt had been in a car accident that morning, and didn’t make it.

I remember feeling numb. I hadn’t ever felt something so paralyzing before that moment.

“What?”

“He was driving late this morning, and fell asleep at the wheel. His truck wrapped around a tree and he didn’t make it. It was on the news this morning, and I didn’t want you to hear from someone else or see it on Facebook.”

Tears were streaming down her face, and I suddenly felt as though there was a weight pressing down on my chest. Hot tears began falling from my cheeks. She asked if I wanted to go home.

I walked out of the office and into the hallway, I tried not to make eye contact with anyone. My friends caught me before I was out the door. I was hugged by 3-5 of my friends before leaving the building.

I turned to food for comfort and grabbed Chinese on the way back to the house. I sat on the end of my couch staring into the void with fried rice in hand. I sat for a long while not understanding how to process this grief. I had to do something.

I went to soccer practice, and pretended that everything was fine. Friends came up and gave me their condolences. I tried to be okay. I didn’t want to draw any extra attention to myself.

I went home after practice and sat in the center of my twin size bed. The pain was radiating throughout my entire body. I listened to Mumford & Sons and sobbed until I couldn’t bare to be awake any longer.

For a year I felt this unimaginable pain, and my heart broke over and over every single day. I listened to Mumford & Sons every single day.

How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes I struggle to find any truth in your lies Now my heart stumbles on things I don’t know My weakness I feel I must finally show … In these bodies we will live In these bodies we will die Where you invest your love You invest your life In these bodies we will live In these bodies we will die Where you invest your love You invest your life Awake my soul

I felt ashamed of my grief and I felt very isolated in the beginning. Months passed, and no one was interested in my sorrow any longer…not that I spoke of it much. My intention was never to be a burden. I cried only in front of my mother. No one else wanted to hear my “sob story” any longer.

I put on the happy face at school, and took off the mask at home…often wandering the house in a daze. I cried at my dining room table a lot. I hugged every single member of the family at his calling hours.

None of my friends really understood, and even though they tried to be supportive, they invalidated my feelings more often than not. I felt totally alone, and had to figure out how to be okay on my own.

I don’t know why I’m recounting this now. I know this sounds dramatic, but loss is loss, and love is love, and when you’re young and hurting, it’s consuming.

Five years is a long time to think about this. Five whole years since you died, and six since I’ve touched your hand or heard your laugh. I’m better now. I’m engaged. I’m happy. I’m rebuilding the foundation of my self-love. I have a job, and a college degree. I’m okay. And yet there is still this part of me that aches still. I still think of you every single day, whether I realize it or not.

I know we wouldn’t have ended up together even if you had lived. I know that you and I were only meant to be young lovers. I mean, I was only 15. What did I even know? But here you are, and here you’ll stay, mended into my broken heart. You’d probably have ended up there regardless, but the death thing really sealed the deal.

I think of you often, and wonder sometimes what you’d be like right now. You’d almost be 25…You’re only a few days older than my Fiance, Jamil. I wonder if you’d be getting ready for hunting season right now. I wonder how many sick things you’d have done to your truck to “pimp her out.” I wonder if you’d enjoy who I am right now, or if you’d think I was a “wild feminist” who took things too seriously. I wonder if we’d be friends. I wonder a lot of things, I suppose.

People are always memorialized after they die, and people seem to only remember the good. I used to look back and see how terrific you were…which you were, don’t get me wrong, but you were also an ass hat. You smoked too much weed, and listened to Meatloaf on a shit record player in your basement….Who does that????

I think your death made me explore who I am and who I want to be more deeply. I had to figure out how to rise up from my darkness. You made me more empathetic and compassionate. You helped me open up about death and dying. You made me grow up a little more quickly. You helped me connect with others who are grieving. You also played a large hand in giving me a complex about commitment…but that also just could have been my father’s fault.

I don’t think this post really has a point. I suppose I just wanted to say hello. And thank you for allowing me into your life 7 years ago, and for allowing me to be a part of your family’s life. They have helped me in more ways than I could ever explain. They’ve become a second family to me, and I love them very very much. Thank you.

I think sometimes that you’re up there judging me…like maybe I’m just another girl who you knew for a little while who’s trying to milk your death for attention. I don’t know why I think that. I think I try to invalidate my feelings sometimes because of how much time had passed after we broke up and before you died…and also because of our culture. I think the best way I can deal with my grief is by writing and sharing my thoughts with others…and sometimes the best platform for that is Facebook. Or if you think the tattoo I have for you is overkill, and that what we had wasn’t even that special. Probably a silly notion. I just wonder sometimes if you ever think, “Yeah. She was a good one.” I know I don’t need to defend my grief or look for validation, but I just wonder.

Anyway, today really does feel soft. Soft like a gentle breeze on an unusually warm October day. Soft like choir music. Soft like leaves falling from their branches. I didn’t try to be anything today. I was just Margaret, and she was just a little sad. I watched a lot of movies, and I sang, and I ate crap food. It’s a bitter-sweet day, and I’m okay.

Do I ever cross your mind? Because I always think of you, and I always say, “Yeah. He was a really damn good one.”

A really good first love.

#cleareyedandbrave #Grief #Grieving #personal pieces

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acehotel · 7 years ago

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INTERVIEW: Martine Syms

Martine Syms, an artist, publisher and writer from Los Angeles, spent a few nights at Ace Hotel New York for Ace AIR . While she was here, she produced a compilation film of canonical vines.

It would be fair to assume that Martine Syms wears a lot of hats — she co-founded and ran the project space Golden Age in Chicago, founded Dominica Press in Los Angeles, and has extensively exhibited and published work in video, photography, writing, editing, design and performance. As a multi-disciplinary artist, Syms conceives and creates language as form, color as signifier, essay as performance — her mind is radically observant and her spirit mischievous and wise. And so funny.

Hi Martine, are you in New York right now?

I am, I’ll be going to upstate New York soon which will be my last summer there. It’s a weird place. I like the forced pause. It’s such a different time, the relationship with time there is like desert time — you know when you’re in the desert and you’re gone for two days and it feels like you’ve been there for a week? A single day is endless.

Yes! Desert time is its own time. So the summer program [at Bard College] must feel like an entire academic year. Tell me about your current solo MoMA exhibition.

I would want to call the show after the film, Incense Sweater & Ice, which is a record through the area of Los Angeles that I grew up in. I was thinking about the idea of the production of identity, about image production, and that relationship to mass production. I was manufacturing in Altadena so I was looking at what other goods have been manufactured there.

I watched the trailer for Incense Sweater & Ice and it made me laugh out loud at the same time that it made me think and feel deeply. Your use of humor has an uncanny ability to slip critical thinking in as a kind of participation — like a spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down — do you approach humor as a method to inject truth?

Definitely. What I like about humor is its ability to contain opposites — the tragic and the joyous. It can have such tonal shifts because contrast is so much a part of what makes something funny: something not fitting, being out of place, being the wrong size — any kind of contrast is a big driver. But, usually, you have both at the same time and that’s what I like about it. It’s a much more complicated feeling than just pure sadness or pure happiness.

Myself, I’m a deeply ambivalent person. I’m always trying to ask in my work, “what does ambivalence look like formally?” No one likes to cop to being ambivalent, even though, obviously, people are. I don’t want to be wishy washy; I think ambivalence can obscure power and can obscure your place, but I think you can be very specific about that ambivalence. What does it look like, what does it sound like? If you were to aestheticize it, what is that? Humor, for me, is one way of doing that because it can be more complicated. You can love something that you also hate or are repulsed by. The voice of Queen White [in the trailer] is taken from a few different people but it’s a voice always inside my great aunt, my aunts, my grandma, always telling me how I should behave or be.

Obviously, I have a lot of feelings about it but many times I was irritated by it. But I also find that there’s another story there that I can understand now, especially as I’ve gotten older, but there’s also a side of them that I think is really funny. I enjoy playing with that voice because I knew it so well. You do an impression of someone in your family, like a parent, and you really know that voice. And when they do an impression of me, they really know me too.

It just lands so seamlessly. And what you were saying about your ambivalence, you’re often somewhere in the middle of abstraction and representation. When I’m engaging with your work, there is a sense that you are playing, opening up a space for mischief and your own secret desire, how you’re playing in between how you’re representing and what you’re representing. And always on its own terms.

The work that I make is just a form of thinking. Thinking through ideas, thinking through objects and images, but it’s all being processed in my brain. A lot of it is the language — the verbal and visual language that’s created in my shows — is having jokes with myself. Some things just make me laugh a lot but I don’t know if anyone else is going to appreciate these little jokes that I put in there. But the one person that does is really going to appreciate it and believe it.

I love what you just said, that your work is a form of thinking. You’re an artist, you make video work, you’re a writer, you’re a designer, a publisher, an editor, you used to run an art space/bookstore. Working in so many mediums all at once makes sense if you’re operating from a place where “work is a form of thinking” — we never think singularly, in one dimension, we think in words, forms, colors, emotion, history. While this interdisciplinary work can be seen as a practice, it seems closer to autobiography, in a sense. Do you feel like that there are intersections? How do all the things you do pull and play across mediums or inform each other? The way things look and read and the objectness of things versus the implication of meaning or sentimentality — your work encompasses it so well on all levels.

I like to do things that I haven’t done before and for a while that led me toward trying different approaches. I grew up in a very autonomous, independent culture starting with music and then art classes. When I was 17, I worked at three places. One was at Ooga Booga, a bookstore and art gallery; second was at Echo Park Film Center, which is a microcinema film co-op and classes (and I did everything, I programmed screenings, I taught classes, I took classes, and I was part of the administration and later became a board member). Ooga Booga same thing: I worked at the shop, but I also bought things for the shop and organized shows there. And then the last place was The Smell, an all ages music venue in downtown LA. I worked the door, booked shows and played in a band that played shows there. And that way of operating, being involved in so many different things and knowing so many people who had labels and published just made it the natural way to be. I got into graphic design through music, making flyers, making zines. This kind of all encompassing way of working was really natural and immediate to me.

It was only when I left Los Angeles that I understood that I was part of a really unique upbringing. I found these places when I was really young and it was happenstance in a way, it was a particular time and place. It’s what prompted me to open Golden Age because, when I moved to Chicago, I couldn’t get in anywhere because there wasn’t an all-ages scene! All the shows were 18+ — I mean, I had a fake ID, but I never used it in LA. In Chicago, suddenly, I couldn't get in any shows. Oh wait! I thought everywhere was like how I’d grown up! That’s what made me immediately want to open a space like the ones I grew up in. I created that multidisciplinary life for myself because I was around so many people that were already doing that. So that’s just how I learned to do things and it’s very natural to me. It doesn’t feel like I’m switching modes.

But as I’ve gotten older, a friend of mine told me about the artist Lawrence Halprin who had these artist rsvp cycles. I did a talk at the Walker a couple years ago about my work being cyclical, moving between these different spaces, disciplines, and modes of activity and that they could go in any order. Something could start as a performance and end as a film, or begin as an essay and end as an exhibition. A friend of mine, after a performance I did in Miami which I thought went really badly, told me about the rsvp cycles where “r” is resources, “s” is score, “v” is valuation, “p” is performance...basically you can move in any direction between these things and it’s more like scoring. More recently, I’ve been thinking about the way I make films as scored rather than scripted. There’s a situation I want to make happen and I’m interested in what happens in that and it’s how I’m thinking about exhibitions too.

I was a huge fan of Golden Age when I found out about it because I was really invested in a space making a public out of a publication. Was it an organic move from opening that space to making your own publications?

Yes. When Golden Age ended I was ready to be done with that project. It was a lot of work but, as you know, it takes a lot out of you. I also wanted more time to focus on my own work — I was also working other jobs, so I wasn’t making a lot of my own work. I wondered what I liked most about Golden Age, what I would miss. I had started our publishing program there and a big part of my role was doing books with artists and artist commissions, so I felt like “I’m good at getting things done.” For a while, that was why people thought of me as kind of an administrator because I’m good at production. But I realized that that’s the only part I really want to keep. I don’t care about having a store. I really liked helping people realize their own projects so I decided to keep the publishing and get rid of everything else — I started that right away.

I moved back to Los Angeles after closing Golden Age and I just started publishing. The first books were with Lauren Anderson, Diamond Stingily, David Hartt (which had been a book I had been working on with Golden Age), and then it went from there. And it’s really casual, which is something I wanted. With Golden Age, I was really concerned with being “professional,” I think it had to do with how young I was, it was really important for me to be taken seriously. I wanted everything to be so by-the-book and top notch. And that was insanely exhausting for a young person, I was 19 when I started Golden Age and was only 24 when it ended. I was kinda like, “I just want this to be fun. No deadlines.”

I was designing everything, editing it with the artists — in some cases printing it. It was more fun when there was no schedule we were adhering to. I approached people whose work I was interested in...I didn’t even know those people, like Hannah Black. I didn’t know her. I just loved her voice and I wanted to hear more from her. I was working full time as a designer until just recently, so I had disposable income and I wanted to support people. This is from growing up in an independent culture — you have to support your peers for them to do the work they want to do. That’s always been another key factor for me. I just started publishing people’s work; it’s slowed down a little bit when I quit my job, but it’s still happening.

I love it. The reverence for others’ work and your “no deadline” attitude comes off on the website as well, I love the language there. And looking through your catalog online, you’re doing books, zines, newsprint editions, and it seems like the material and form is beholden to the content, which I really appreciate.

I think everyone has that fantasy when they start publishing, that everything is going to look the same. That was also my plan. I get why you do it for economic reasons, but at the end of the day, it’s always about the collaboration. So when someone starts talking to me about their book idea, I know that I start thinking material, how we can make it feel like an entire idea. We’ll see, I might have to start streamlining.

Hannah Black’s Dark Pool Party is a stunning book, so tactile and well designed. How did you come up with the choices made in that book, and how did it even become a book — it started as a performance, right?

Her text is. I knew her work from Rhizome and I was into it, I followed her on twitter and I thought shee was just so brilliant. I read her essays on New Inquiry and reached out to her to do a bigger book because she had just tweeted about wanting to do a book. That’s how we started working together. I told her what I tell everybody, “Just give it to me!” Hah, “just give me what you’re thinking about and we can take it from there.” I worked with designer Erica Beck, we had worked together before and Erica is very precise and responsive, so we were looking at the text and wanted the text and the ideas of body and intimacy. I always think about the book as an intimate space. I worked with an editor who I worked with a couple times and I was working with Hannah to choose the selection and flow. It was very organic and easy. I like things to feel that way.

Can you talk about how text is involved in your own work? It’s a huge part of your visual work and it makes language material. It almost seems like your language becomes conscious of itself when it’s presented as artwork, it makes language into object and vice versa.

I’m really interested in the relationship between image and language. Images can be read, and language is formal and is an image. They have forms and color, and you can manipulate them in the same way that you could other material. A lot of times, with sculptural objects, I’m thinking of producing a phrase. People often ask me why I use the color purple and a lot of that is just to produce the effect of people saying the color purple.

Oh my god.

There’s more to it than that, but that was my initial intention as far as what I wanted the viewer to do. I like the text that incorporates into the work, especially the super graphics I’ve been working with over the last year or two, how it becomes part of the space, how it becomes architectural. Involving the viewer’s body, there’s a kind of phenomenological experience of reading it in your head, reading it out loud. How this letter is the same size as you or smaller than you, the relationship to the body, those are all a part of what I want in an exhibition.

#martine syms #nyc #yes #ace air #new york #dominica publishing #incense sweater and ice #interview #chicago #art

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latestnews2018-blog · 6 years ago

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The Director Of 'Room' Returns With Another Stylish Adaptation. Is Anyone Paying Attention?

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The Director Of 'Room' Returns With Another Stylish Adaptation. Is Anyone Paying Attention?

A high-profile Oscar nomination should, in theory, guarantee immediate good fortune, assuming that person chooses his or her next projects wisely.

Lenny Abrahamson, who made the Best Director nominee roster for 2015’s “Room,” seems to have done all the right things. His next act, “The Little Stranger,” opening Friday, is an adaptation of a well-received 2009 novel by Sarah Waters that put its own spin on the Southern Gothic horror tradition ― just the sort of thing that could lure genre faithfuls and arty cinephiles alike.

Despite Abrahamson’s Oscar foray and the popularity of Waters’ novel, the marketing behind “The Little Stranger” has felt muted at a time when non-franchise movies can’t afford to slacken their advertising crusades. Making matters more precarious, the film is opening in something of a death slot: The end of August misses out on both the summer blockbuster wave and the glitz of the upcoming awards season.

To go from headlining the Oscar derby to crossing your fingers in hopes that people will pay attention to your work sounds defeating. But when I talked to Abrahamson, he was relentlessly Zen. Maybe it’s his cheery Irish lilt, which lends every sentence an air of optimism. Or maybe the film industry’s fickleness is old hat for Abrahamson, who broke through a few years back with the small, eclectic indies “What Richard Did” and “Frank.”

“The Little Stranger” reunites him with Domhnall Gleeson, who played a wannabe musician in “Frank.” Here, Gleeson is Faraday, a doctor in 1940s England treating a family whose decaying 18th-century mansion creaks and leaks in all the wrong places. The house’s odd, ghostly occurrences require the bulk of Faraday’s attention, and he is steadily drawn into a mystery that evokes shades of his own childhood. Co-starring Ruth Wilson, Charlotte Rampling and Will Poulter, “The Little Stranger” is more of a psychodrama than an outright horror show ― and were it released a month later, Abrahamson might have seen his name again featured in Oscar prognostications.

I asked him about that and about one major change he made to Waters’ novel.

Let’s start at the end of the “Room” experience, by which point you’d made off with an Oscar nomination. We like to think of doors swinging open in the aftermath.

Carpets being rolled out.

Yes. Given the popularity of the novel, was the “Room” experience what you anticipated it would be?

No, it was more intense than I thought it would be. People had told me, with an Oscar campaign, “Oh, don’t forget to eat” and “You’re going to be absolutely exhausted.” Someone said, “Are you thinking about moving the family out to LA?” I said, “What are you talking about?”

But it is just absolutely full-on for six months. I was pretty much traveling for six months, with the occasional trip home to see everybody and then back. Before that, I’d never had a film in that conversation, so I didn’t quite know how it operated. And then it’s very intense because, much as you might like to think you won’t get obsessed with it, you’re so embedded in that world.

“It” being who’s up, who’s down, might you win, might you not, might you be nominated, might you not. And you think, “I’m not that sort of person. I’m above that.” And yet we all are affected by the environments we’re in, and it’s impossible to resist the big pressures in culture. Globally, in terms of what society you live in, you think your thoughts are all your own, but very little of what you think is actually yours. That’s something I always think about. But when you’re in such a pressure cooker like that campaign, it becomes your life for that period of time.

So I was surprised about how involved in it I got. You’re looking up [prediction site] Gold Derby, and you’re like, “I can’t fucking believe I’m looking at Gold Derby. Who am I?” [Laughs]

Paul Bruinooge via Getty Images

Ruth Wilson, Lenny Abrahamson and Domhnall Gleeson at the “Little Stranger” premiere in New York on Aug. 16, 2018.

We shouldn’t believe anyone in Hollywood who says they aren’t invested in their own Oscar odds.

At the end, actually, it was a funny thing, because you’re spat out of the other end, back into civilian life. It takes a little while to remember: “What am I doing this for? Why am I doing it? What do I really want out of it?” And that question becomes sharper when you’ve had success like that because the possibilities are suddenly much greater, so you can sit at home as a fledgling filmmaker going, “Would I do a big movie if I was offered it? Or would I say I would never do a big studio movie?” It’s very easy to refuse something that has not been offered to you.

When you come out the other side of a film like “Room,” which catches a wave, you really do have to sit down and think about what it is you really do want to do. Other people will have views as well, and certainly doors absolutely opened. They opened throughout the process. Scripts came. I got to read everything, and I still do, which is great.

But that little naggy voice has always been the one that eventually I’ve listened to and why I’ve made the odd choices I’ve made in the films that I’ve chosen to do. I’ve never been strategic. It’s always been like, “Oh, I want to do that because I want to do it.”

What was the appeal of “The Little Stranger”?

“The Little Stranger” had been sitting there for quite a while. I’d been working on it way before “Room,” and I’d read the novel before “Frank” and “What Richard Did” — way back. And I’d really been obsessed with it as an idea and a piece of writing. I came out of the other side of a successful literary adaptation really not wanting to do another one. But we — myself and Lucinda Coxon, the great screenwriter behind it, and the producers — had been working on it. They waited for me through “Room,” and I thought, “I still really want to do this, and if I don’t do it now, other stuff will take over and I won’t get back to it.”

I just ultimately did it because I really, really love it. I know it’s an odd choice in a way, but I don’t know what good thing isn’t an odd choice.

Were you offered a big studio movie?

Nobody came and said, “We want you to do the next ‘Star Wars’ or something like that.” But I certainly read lots of big, meaty things. I don’t really want to do that stuff. I saw somebody was doing a list of who Marvel’s going to tap in the next five years, and I found my name on those lists. And it just makes me laugh because I can’t imagine doing it. But it wasn’t like anybody came and said, “We’re going to pay you loads of millions of dollars to do this,” and I said, “Away with you.” But I think I probably would have said, “Away with you.”

I was asked by my agents, “Do you want to put your name in the hat for X, Y and Z?” And I said no. And it wasn’t a difficult decision to make. It wasn’t, like, deeply courageous, with me going, “Oh, I desperately want to, but I feel it’s wrong.” I just know what I’m into. And it tends to be the case that the people who do things well are the people who love those things. I always laugh when art-house filmmakers say, “I want to make a popular movie. I’m sick of not making any money and living in obscurity.” You think, “It’s not easy to do those films. It’s really hard.” And there are people out there who have lived and breathed that stuff since they were kids, so they’re always going to be better.

But I did read lots of stuff. I could look at some films and say, “Well, that could be in the conversation for awards.” But it was time to make “The Little Stranger,” and that’s what I chose to do.

Focus Features

Charlotte Rampling in “The Little Stranger.”

What’s the biggest thing you turned down?

I can’t really say, but there were projects where I was talking to friends and saying, “I can’t believe I’m saying no to this.” Listen, I’m not a saint. Had something come in that I was profoundly compelled by more than anything else, I would have done it. So the things I turned down, even though they were juicy and delicious and big in the independent world, just didn’t feel right for me. So I didn’t have any soul-searching moments.

And I never do that thing where you go, “I could have done that,” because it’s a shitty thing to do. You didn’t do it and you might have fucked it up. When it’s gone, it’s gone, and I don’t think about it anymore. And there also isn’t a lot of magnificently great stuff out there. Any filmmaker will tell you that.

Did “Room” make as much money as you thought it would?

I don’t know. It did do pretty well. It made way more money than it would have made had it not gotten into the Oscar conversation and won a [Best Actress] Oscar for Brie Larson.

Even though it was based on a celebrated novel?

The novel was really helpful as well. But it’s still hard to get people into a cinema for a film they know is about a kid and a mother in that situation. Much as [film distributors] A24 are incredible marketeers, it’s still hard to persuade people to do that. But a lot of people did go see it around the world and continue to watch it. It will have a long and happy life. It’s a really tough market to get challenging stuff seen.

That’s a perfect segue to “The Little Stranger.” On the surface, the movie has familiar genre elements, specifically in the supernatural horror realm. But it really isn’t as familiar as it might seem. Maybe that’s a marketer’s dream. You can dupe people into thinking it’s a more conventional movie than it is. We’ve seen a handful of arty horror titles do that lately.

I think it’s a risky strategy. I’ve gotten on extremely well with Focus Features [the studio releasing “Stranger”] and I had final cut on the film, so the film is the film I wanted to make. But no director has charge over the marketing. They’ve made a decision as to how they go out there. They haven’t gone full horror in the marketing, and I think that’s very wise of them.

But at the same time, it’s extremely difficult to make a trailer for this film and not have people expect more jump scares than they’re going to get, short of going for a festival release and a slow build where the word about what the film is like is the first thing to hit people. When you go out wider, which is what they’re doing, the worry is that you get a lot of people going, “Hang on a second, that’s not a horror film.” Much as you’ve hoped in the trailer to somewhat soften those expectations, it remains to be seen whether that strategy is correct or whether we should have gone for a slow build. But that’s easy for me to say. I don’t have the pressure of making that decision.

I like the festival route. It’s a filmmaker-friendly route, and you tend to be reviewed by the more sophisticated reviewers first. That sets a precedent. It’ll be interesting to see what happens with this film, whether audiences go, “Wow, that took me on a journey I wasn’t expecting, hurrah,” or whether they go, “I wish it was a bit more scary and a bit more gory.” I don’t know.

The marketing is one end of it, but it’s also opening on a weekend that’s always precarious for movies. The end of August is not always the most advantageous time to make a splash at the box office, at least not in America.

I feel the same. Why do you think that happens? I’m interested to know what it feels like from the outside. It’s a hard weekend because people are on holiday?

The deluge of summer blockbusters has tapered off, but we’re not quite into the prestige of Oscar season and the festival circuit yet. So those last couple of weekends in August don’t have much of an identity. You can’t hang your movie on any particular trend or M.O.

So I’ll tell you what [the studio] would say, because we’ve had these conversations. I think they would say they have had success with films in this very slot, that they’re trying to break away from the gridlock of post-festival awards season, which seems like an artificially crowded time. It’s gotten crazier and crazier. And I buy that because I saw how hard it was with “Room.” We did get it through, but it was so hard.

I think what they feel is this is a weekend where the film can have something of its own space. If it were me, what I would argue for would be either a small release post-festival or possibly an early 2019 release, just after the madness. So we’ll know in a couple of weeks. But also, a distributor’s idea of what success is and a filmmaker’s idea are different. I want people to appreciate the film that I’ve made, and I want its audience to find it.

Whether that audience is large or small.

Whether that audience is large or small. But it’s a big enough film, this one. Although I was always super clear about what I was making: “This is going to be a hybrid. It’s going to look like one of my films.”

The thing I find that’s kind of tantalizing is I do think there’s a sizable audience for the film, but messaging it correctly to get to them is the tricky part. It would almost be easier if there were no ghost story. You would talk about this film differently. But once you add that little dimension, it’s a huge gravitational pull. As soon as you mention that genre, it’s there.

People assume it will be a crowd-pleaser type.

Even though you had final cut on the movie, when you showed it to the studio, did you feel like they appreciated what you showed them?

I think it varied depending on who saw it. As human beings, they all had different tastes and different reactions. People recognized the quality of the film and were very supportive of that. I think if they could wave a magic wand and add just 15 percent more genre, they wouldn’t be able to resist. Having said that, they’ve been extremely supportive of what I’ve done.

Jeff Vespa via Getty Images

“Room” stars Jacob Tremblay and Brie Larson and director Lenny Abrahamson attend the Palm Springs International Film Festival Awards Gala on Jan. 2, 2016.

The festival circuit provides the word-of-mouth rollout we were talking about, as well as a portal into the Oscar conversation. Slotting it right before that comes with the implication that this is not an Oscar movie. With just a couple of weeks’ difference, you’d automatically get shoved into the awards derby, even if nothing comes of it. Coming off of “Room,” what did you make of being sent the message that you’re not quite right for Oscar contention this time?

I mean, listen. Do I think it’s an obvious Oscar film? I don’t think it is. And I never thought it was, even when I was making it. So that itself doesn’t bother me, and I do think it’s kind of silly how we have created this system. It’s nobody’s doing — it’s just the way it evolves when you’ve got such a powerful thing as the Oscars. Everybody feels that’s a mechanism to get more challenging films before a real audience.

It’s like the equivalent of boxing being a way out of tough communities. That’s your shot. For smaller, more challenging films, that’s your little catapult. But it’s so attractive that you end up with this huge glut of films in one place. I think something’s going to change, I really do. The Oscars are in a funny space at the moment.

Clearly, with this new popular-movie Oscar.

Hmm, yeah. Let’s not even get into that.

Let’s talk about one big detail in your version of “The Little Stranger.” Because the book is told exclusively through Faraday’s perspective, it ends far more ambiguously than the movie.

Yeah, that’s true. What we did with the movie — and not because I wanted to make it easier, but because it felt more satisfying in film terms — was to put the pieces of the puzzle all there. The film does incline you towards a certain interpretation, probably more than the novel.

I would argue the movie isn’t really ambiguous at all, even though it has a certain haziness to how everything comes together. Why’d you chose to go that route?

I had a very strong feeling about what it was in the novel, but I know people have been very uncertain. And Sarah [Waters] herself said she was surprised that it was considered as ambiguous as it was. We also shifted the emphasis a little bit with that last shot. There’s something very powerful in the idea of looking at someone both as the person they are and as the child they were. The film allows you to maintain the tension between those two entities.

In our lives, those two things are deeply mixed up. Maybe it’s the odd moments in therapy, when you suddenly go, “Oh my God, that’s why I behave like that. That’s the unresolved shit that’s caused all this trauma and trouble.” Faraday doesn’t have that insight into himself, but we allow the audience to feel the tension between that rather damaged and longing and baffled child and the lost, unloved character that we meet as an adult. That, for me, is the emotional center of the novel, but we want to make it explicit in an image at the end in a way that isn’t there in the novel.

What was Sarah’s reaction to that?

She sent me the loveliest email after she’d seen it and said she absolutely loved the end. I just saw something released on social media, which is a quote from her, and it’s really positive. I know her as a person — she’s not someone who would just say that. She genuinely feels, I think, that the novel and the film are the same thing, but the film does its work in a slightly different way.

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

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fadingfartconnoisseur · 7 years ago

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AK Monthly Recap: October 2017

October in New York is fantastic. The best month of the year. And this was actually my first time experiencing an October in New York!

Last October was split between Poland, Germany, France, Luxembourg, and Australia. I think October is a fantastic month to travel, especially to Europe, but after a big Eurotrip last month it was time to sit still and spend time in one place.

It was a month of Halloween goodness, exciting opportunities, and a surprising number of visits to Staten Island. It was a month of admiring the decorations throughout Harlem and enjoying far-warmer-than-usual weather. This month rocked!

Destinations Visited

New York and Croton-on-Hudson, New York

Tybee Island and Savannah, Georgia

Jersey City, New Jersey

Favorite Destination

The new? Tybee Island. The old favorite? Savannah. Don’t worry, Jersey City — you’re nice, too.

Highlights

The other half of my dad’s visit to New York. My dad visited over a long weekend and I talked about the September half of his visit in last month’s recap. On this part of the trip, we got dim sum at Nom Wah Tea Parlor in Chinatown, walked around the 9/11 Memorial and downtown Manhattan. We cut through Brookfield Place and did a walk-through of Le District (it’s essentially the French Eataly) and I can’t wait to go back for a proper meal! Post-Whole30, of course…

We also got a trip in to Staten Island — the only borough Dad hadn’t visited. And we introduced him to one of my absolute favorite things to do in New York: drinking on the Staten Island Ferry. As on every trip to Staten Island, we walked to the Flagship Brewery and had a few beers before getting back on the ferry to Manhattan. Topping it off? Fraunces Tavern (a very cool place and one of my favorite bars in the city) and John’s Pizzeria (Bleecker Street), which I’m starting to think is my favorite New York-style pizza in the city.

And before Dad left on Monday, I introduced him to the quintessential New York breakfast: the bodega bacon, egg and cheese and a coffee. He loved it.

A beautiful beach getaway to Tybee. October is still beach season in Tybee Island, Georgia, and I enjoyed temperatures in the mid-80s. I even got a tan! I’ve written a lot about that trip already, so I won’t repeat myself here. It was also lovely to spend a day in Savannah, one of my favorite cities in the world.

Traveling to Jersey City for amazing pizza. Jersey City is a short PATH train ride from Manhattan, but I had never been before — until I read a New York Times piece asking, “Is New York’s Best Pizza in New Jersey?” The place is called Razza and it’s pretty damn good pizza. Not classic New York pizza, but I’d definitely place it in my top five for the city. Maybe even the top three.

What makes Razza pizza great? Amazing crust, a delicate thinness, and unusual and inventive toppings, many of them locally sourced from New Jersey. My favorite was the Panna with tomato sauce, mozzarella, local grass-fed cow’s cream, arugula, and parmigiano. Cream on a pizza is a stroke of brilliance. It’s like burrata. So yes — go to Razza! It’s absolutely worth the trip to Jersey City. It’s very popular and they don’t take reservations, so try to go at an off-peak time. I had to wait an hour on a Monday night.

Golden Girls Trivia at the Golden Girls Cafe. I made my first visit to Rue la Rue Cafe, the Golden Girls-themed cafe in Washington Heights, for a wild night of Golden Girls trivia. The owner, Michael La Rue, was close to Rue McClanahan and inherited much of her estate, some of which is on display at the cafe. Even the phone from the set! He gave away some of Rue’s things as prizes — things like one of Rue’s canceled checks, one of her coffee cups, and even the script from the George Clooney episode that George himself drew on!

And man, these were serious Golden Girls fans who showed up. (My sister is a hardcore fan and she aced two rounds of trivia.) I was very happy that the grand prize winner was the guy who took the midnight bus from Baltimore and showed up in Blanche Devereaux drag!

Visiting the Chihuly exhibit at the New York Botanical Garden. The exhibit is now closed, and I’m glad I made it there. I love the New York Botanical Garden and Chihuly is such a great fit for a natural environment.

Visiting The Blaze in Croton-on-Hudson. Every year, the Hudson Valley town of Croton-on-Hudson does a giant jack-o-lantern display. There were a merry-go-round, a Tappan Zee Bridge, and a Statue of Liberty all made out of pumpkins. And they’re still doing it through November!

It’s a nice little getaway from the city, and there’s a nonstop train during rush hour. Just 35 minutes from Harlem-125th and 40 minutes from Grand Central. And while the website says the walk from the train station is “not pedestrian-friendly,” don’t let that stop you — the walk is easy and the cabs are both expensive and communal. (Me: “What is this, a marshrutka?”)

Visiting Staten Island a whopping three times. Once with my dad, once to cheer my sister on in the Staten Island Half Marathon (her first half marathon ever and she did amazing!), and once with the Knights. More on the Knights below.

Halloween festivities in Hamilton Heights! This year my neighborhood’s running group, of which I’m kind of an honorary non-running member, put on a Halloween dog parade and 5K fun run. I photographed the event for them. The costumed dogs were adorable and I really enjoyed getting to know more of my neighbors. Stay tuned for a Halloween dog post next week!

And I went out in my neighborhood as trick-or-treating was in full swing. I went to Broadway in Hamilton Heights, and you guys, I’ve never seen trick-or-treating that crazy. Hundreds of kids and their parents filled the streets. In the city, they trick-or-treat at businesses, and I wouldn’t be surprised if business owners invested in upwards of 1000 pieces of candy!

Also, my friend Jessie threw an impromptu fall celebration party at her apartment with pumpkin painting. You are never too old to paint pumpkins!

Let me just say that I am so happy that I got to experience a lot of Halloween fun this year, after missing so many Halloweens due to my travels. I love this holiday so much!

A fun and creative gig with Visit Kissimmee. On the thirteenth, I spent the day with the team from Visit Kissimmee in Florida, traveling around the city with knights from Medieval Times, taking hilarious videos of them for Snapchat, interviewing people on the street, and getting people to sign up to win trips. First of all, I laughed harder this day than I have in a long time, and second, it was deeply gratifying to have so much creative control from a first-time partner.

On the professional front, very exciting things are happening. The rest of 2017 will be on the quiet side but I’ve got two big trips planned for next year. Both will be cold and snowy trips. One is to a place I’ve been before and the other is to a place I have never been but has long been a goal of mine to visit. The first trip isn’t until late January so I’ll be revealing it in the next few weeks.

One hint: I’ll be visiting a city that hosted the Winter Olympics in my lifetime, and it’s not Sochi or Albertville. Any guesses?

Challenges

My flight back from Savannah was delayed upon delayed upon delayed. I soon realized I could have gone to dinner in Savannah! Missing a meal in one of my favorite food cities made me sad. Eh, what can you do.

I had a bad cold this month. One of those help-me-I-can’t-do-anything, stay-inside-my-house-and-not-move-for-three-days, please-let-my-sense-of-smell-come-back colds. It happens once or twice a year; I hope this means I’m good for awhile.

When the challenges are that minimal, you know you are a very lucky person indeed.