#also where are your parents timmy? do they know youre in new york???

[pipliekit]

Reading 'A Lonely Place Of Dying' and so far every scene with Tim is sending me.

Like bro stalked Starfire and said some weird and concerning stuff than just left without even saying goodbye??

Then IMMEDIATELY breaks into Dicks apartment???? Hello???? Timmy that's an entire crime??? Why are you being so nonchalant about this lmfao??????

Some how this is more unhinged than the fanon retelling of Tim's origin story

[ratlordsarah]

more word girl HCs bc this blog is going dry 💀

miss question, lady redundant woman, and Leslie have girls nights out, but they always end up where they wake up crawling out of a dumpster, wake up in a Forrest completely barefoot in 60 degree F weather swarmed by deer, makes it back to one of the three’s places, all of them drunk-crying about how much they love a dog they saw earlier, wake up with a new stray dog as a pet, or some other form of ominous nuanced way to end the night out. (You will have the time of your life)

Two brains def goes on long car rides during the summer as the sun sets, blasting 80s songs down the highway, and makes it back some time in the middle of the night (bro absolutely lives for that, he sings along with more passion than a passion fruit or something)

the girlie trio mentioned earlier, all 3 of them are abba girlies, no one can change my mind.

sometimes, the girl trio and two brains will do a mix of their activities, and they ride around and two brains is doing drifts all over the city while all 4 of them are singing whatta man by salt n pepa, at the top of their lungs

Charlie and meatloaf love doing anything involved with a disco party (they are 70s babies for life)

the show starts in august of 1999 and ends in February 2002

Toby sings along to all the Eminem songs, but can’t rap so it sounds more like a mumble

(Partly canon) miss question and Brent later get married and has a kid who is a very curious sandwich

chuck has the pack man maze burnt into his screen from playing it so much

Seymour and granny may are either half siblings, or cousins. (I gotta make them related, their chemistry would be absolutely legendary)

Seymour is OLDDD (at least in his 60s)

two brains knows how to speak mouse and because of this, he basically has the basement of his warehouse (or attic) dedicated to the rats and mice of fair city. (A majority of his friends are mice, he will hang out with some of them and genuinely forget they aren’t human)

due to the amount of trials two brains goes through each time he’s arrested, and sally botsford being the district attorney, two brains and sally actually become really good friends

two brains is actually really good at becoming genuine friends with people’s moms, it’s insane.

Timmy Tim Bo later makes a band where he’s a backup singer/ guitarist, and can do a little drums too.

Hal hardbargain and big left hand guy are both functional alcoholics

beau handsome’s parents are French, and is a victim of child acting.

lady redundant woman becomes a crazy cat lady, and adopts like 30 cats

(A lot of people I’ve seen has this hc, no idea where it originated from, but here we go) amazo guy’s name is Adam, and he definitely had a pet golden retriever

on the topic of that, I like to think he also is from lexicon, and he’s wordgirl’s biological father or uncle, and Steven’s original friendship with word girl was asked from amazo guy to try and get closer to his daughter/neice, but they all basically became the bestest of friends (and wordgirl looked up to both amazo and Steven very much)

I also feel like amazo (or Adam ) genuinely loves fighting crime, and basically is like Superman in fair city

fair city is either located in New Jersey or California

Steven’s sister is named Marcy, and his niece is named Maggie (called mags tho)

squeaky was genetically modified and his brain was basically originally fused with a psycho’s brain where it’s basically a human thinking mouse with mouse like tendencies, before Steven bought him, which is why he was on sale (for negative 200$)

The butcher would be girl dad of the year

when Steven is really angry (once in a life time) he does the Italian 🤌 thing, and he grew up in Brooklyn NY

due to him growing up in New York, two brains was certainly most pissed when 9/11 happened out of the villains

chuck grew up in Boston before his family moved to fair city about 7 years prior to the show

idk if I have previously said any of these in an earlier post, so sorry if I have lmao 💀

[secretsandwriting]

So I’m testing some new things out with this so you guys will have to tell me what you think!

I’ve also come to the conclusion that while Timothee isn’t my favorte celebrity I like writing for him.

Also, I have no idea how movie premieres work so this is really just a guess and could be completely wrong.

Word Count - 1609

Beta Read - by google docs

Navigating through the crowded streets of New York was getting to be something you were good at. Moving there had definitely been a culture shock but after getting used to it, it was pretty nice. But now, you needed to get coffee and work on your French for one of your classes.

Ordering and setting yourself up, you started the assigned video and prayed it would make sense and you wouldn’t have to add another hour or two of study to your already full schedule. But as fate would have it, it sounded like gibberish.

Restarting the video to try again, you were pulled out of your studies by a burning sensation going down your arm. Pulling out your headphones you looked down at your arm to brown soaking into the sleeve.

“I’m so sorry!” The guy in front of you looked familiar but due to his mask it took a moment for it to sink in. Timothee Chalamet. He was an actor, but that wasn’t important. What was important? He knew french.

“That’s not important. Do you have any free time right now? I know you know french and I need to learn it and this makes no sense and it’s due in two hours.” You definitely caught him off guard, but he checked his phone.

“I have an hour.” He pulled a chair over and you handed him one of your earbuds. For the next hour he helped you, he was a lot better than the video your teacher had given you.

“Here,” he handed you a slip of paper. “If you need more help just text me and I’ll help when I can.”

“Thank you! With your help, I’ll at least pass.” He laughed and you said your goodbyes before he went on his way and you worked on finishing the rest of your homework.

While you worked, you didn’t notice the girls in the corner watching you with their phones out and slightly pointed at you.

The next day, you almost regretted asking Timothee for help when you woke up to your phone being blown up by friends and social media. There were multiple pictures of you and Timothee as well as multiple dating theories. One of the notifications stood out, Timothee had messaged you on Instagram.

You didn’t really talk until your next assignment came and you texted him about it. Together you decided to meet at one of the libraries. This time you knew that you would be spending time with a celebrity and people would notice so you made sure you at least looked alive. That way if there were pictures posted online at least you wouldn’t look like too much of a mess. Apparently Timothee noticed.

“You look nice.”

“Well, the chances of pictures being taken are pretty big so I at least want to look alive and not like I just rolled out of bed.” He snorted and you chatted for a few minutes before getting to work.

This time it was a bigger assignment so it took a few hours instead of one. But it didn’t seem to be so long, it felt like time had flown by and it was finished immediately. Timothee was interesting, you two could have fun but when needed it could be serious.

So when you split ways and Timothee started texting you an hour later, you didn’t feel like he was trying anything. It just felt like you were talking to a friend you had known for years. Then, you had plans to hang out two days later when he was free. The plan was to got to a park and play with kids and act like a kid, simply to feel like you didn’t have so much on your plate and could just have fun for an afternoon.

The interview he asked you about, was before you were meeting to go to a park and act like you were children, not adults who had jobs and college. But that was the plan, and exactly what you did.

The two of you ended up chasing each other until all the other kids at the park wanted to play with the two of you. The parents watched the two of you close when you played with them but that was to be expected.

Timothee was good with kids. Not just good, amazing. All the little girls were absolutely in love with him while all the boys were amazed by how strong he was.

However, as most people know. Kids have no filter, therefore they ask any question that comes to their brain. Hence the 30 different times you had to tell them that you weren’t dating and you were just friends having fun. Some of the parents seemed to think so too, one of them basically told you.

“Thank you for playing with Maggie, she had a blast and she’ll probably sleep well tonight.” The lady looked relieved at the thought. “You and your boyfriend would be good with kids if you decide to have them.”

“He’s not my boyfriend. We just met a month ago and we just came here to have some fun.” She nodded but you could tell she didn’t believe you. Trying to ignore what she said you turned and went back to playing with the kids.

It was after two hours of playing different games, the two of you decided that you were out of energy. Timothee offered getting a meal and you agreed. And that’s how you ended up in a Mcdonalds.

For the next few months, you would meet up for assignments or just to hang out. The press had a hayday with it but after a while it was easy to ignore and then it became more fun to do funny poses every once in a while.

Then he had to go work on a movie so your contact was left to text, phone calls, and facetime. It worked but it wasn’t as good as meeting in person. He still helped with your french until the semester was over part way through his movie.

“Timmy!!! I passed!!!” You held up your phone to the camera on your computer so he could see through his screen. It was amazing and you owed it all to him. Last semester you had barely passed and that had been with 4 times the amount of studying then you had done today. Timothee was godsent.

“Yes! You did it!” You celebrated for a little bit before he got serious. “Y/n, since you passed I know what we can do to celebrate. When this is over, you should come as my plus one to the movie premiere.”

“The movie premiere?!” He nodded, you could see how nervous he was in his eyes. “I have one question.” He nodded, waiting for you to ask. “What am I supposed to wear.” He snorted.

“I’ll talk with my manager and see what he says.” So that was the plan. You kept talking with him, but now it was less about school and more for the fun of it.

When the movie premiere came close Timothee got an answer to your question. Though he almost seemed hesitant to tell you.

“You just have to go get measured and go to a few fittings. The brand making my suit is making you a matching dress.” You would be matching with Timothee sure, you were going as his plus one, or date depending on who you ask. But brand? This dress sounded like it was going to cost more than your college tuition.

“Ok, when and where do I need to go?” He gave you his manager’s private number so you talk straight with him and get all the details. Little did you know, that that was the beginning of the storm.

Somehow it got out that you were going with Timothee and even getting matching outfits. Soon, your phone was being blown up by people trying to get details and even shows asking you to come on and talk about it. Timothee’s manager called you and offered to be your manager until this all calmed down, mostly because this affected Timothee but the offer was still appreciated and accepted.

He texted you a link and told you to post it in all of your public social media bios titled ‘Manager’s contact’. While it wasn’t something most celebrities did, you had just been dragged into this. It would start as a base line until things were figured out.

Through this mess, Timothee kept apologizing even when you said it was ok and it wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. You thought the manager would be enough but then you ended up sharing Timothee’s booking agent too. Apparently everyone wanted to talk with you.

A few days after agreeing, you learned that the episode would be realised a week before the premiere, but hopefully it would go well. You were also told that Timothee would be doing the interview with you which made you feel a lot better.

Timothee came back the day before you had to fly to California so you were going to let him take the day to rest because frankly it was a lot, but he showed up at your door with his suitcase. He hadn’t even gone home.

“Timmy! What are you doing he-” He cut you off.

“Can I kiss you?” What? That wasn’t what you expected. While you stood there staring at him completely confused, he started shifting around a little bit and playing with his hands.

“Yeah.” That’s all it took for him to get his confidence back.

Request:

Hey, I really love your writing.

Can I request something with Thimothée Chalamet? Maybe like they meet at a coffee shop and he accidentally spills his coffee on her and then they become friends and they progressively fall in love with each other? If you can’t I understand.

Thank you 🤍

[peeterparkr]

perennial;tom holland|seven.

chapter seven: yellow roses

↳ flower meaning: jealousy, infidelity, apology, broken heart, intense emotion, dying love, extreme betrayal

Pick one. 

chapter summary: dried flowers on walls and ‘dirty’ dancing

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: angsty? just a bit,  fluffy, mentions of sex 

word count: 8.1k

SOCIAL MEDIA BEFORE THE CHAPTER:

masterlist & profiles   six:  in which y/n wakes up and Tom doesn’t. 

previous chapter next chapter   perennial masterlist.

perfidy  ( series masterlist)

wanna be tagged?

Tags aren’t working so yeah. Sorry for posting late. I am too busy with school, and my job and  life and yeah so I hope you enjoy it. 

Tom woke up alone. He thought he wouldn’t, for the first time in months he thought he’d finally wake up by her side, kiss her cheek, pull her close to him and nuzzle into her hair as he asked for five more minutes of sleep.  He hadn’t, and that had bothered him, just a little. 

No, it had bothered him a lot. To wake up alone when you expect not to, hurts. So damn much. Because he didn’t know the reason for it now. 

Of course, she probably hadn’t run away, he thought. Maybe she’d woken up early to get her morning tea, or maybe she was making breakfast or whatever y/n did now. Did he still know her? Did he know her routine? 

He knew she had changed. He had expected her to, of course. He had, too. In a good way. Well that was what he thought or liked to believe apparently. 

He wondered why she had never called, not once. He thought about doing it, several times. Had it ever crossed her mind? To call him? Because it had crossed his mind, every day. 

Of course, his friends had stopped him from doing it, and Harry, Harry had stopped him from doing it. 

“I want to call her,” Tom had stated once. 

“Don’t, she did this to give you some freedom, so you could heal.”

Freedom that turned into severe loneliness. Tom had never really experienced it, and though he was not alone, he had felt lonely. Sometimes he couldn’t quite understand why, it’s not like before they dated they were that close. 

Or were they? And had Tom never truly acknowledged how important to each other they were? Because of course he knew she was important but he hadn’t realized how much she had influenced his life. 

For better or for worse, that is. Not always the brightest side. But… she was there. And for those months, she disappeared. And it wasn’t like when she had disappeared after that club night. At that time, Tom had tried to reach out, subtly. 

Had she felt this way? This heart-clenching way? Tom didn’t understand why he had felt so lonely. How they’d gone out to bars, and the music didn’t cheer him up, how he had walked through the crowded streets but not a single person seemed to notice. How his friends would laugh but he couldn’t even get the joke. 

He missed her. Because she’d always been there, one way or another. 

And now she wasn’t there by his side to kiss him good morning, she wasn’t there to run her hands through his hair while she gave him a shy smile, and the sun was pooling her whole bed, and thought it was warm, Tom still felt cold and like a stranger in that bedroom. Bedroom that he hadn’t stopped to take a glance at.

He knew y/n was so dramatic and chaotic and always, always, always made everything for the aesthetic and for her big drama show. Her room was her set, he knew, the place where her secrets hid. 

He wondered what had happened to Tim’s box, and it was nowhere to be found. There was no box in sight. The Polaroids weren’t the usual y/n Polaroids. She had some with James, and her parents. But most of them were from different places. 

He could see some Polaroids from New York, even one from Rome but most of them were new. Most of them had flowers. 

That was her latest theme, it seemed. Flowers. Flowers taped to her wall, flowers in her nightstand, near the small mirror. Flowers. 

Which seemed so very like her, Tom thought. He saw her  dried flowers and they seemed oddly familiar but he couldn’t quite figure out where from. 

He continued scanning her room, it made him happy there was absolutely no trace of Timmy in that room. There was no sight of Tom, either, whatsoever. 

Well, maybe there was. Because there were pictures of New York, of Rome. Not sight of him but it was subtle. Very subtle. He saw the vinyl he gave her about a year ago on her birthday. Which made him think. Just a year ago, Tim had planned the perfect party for y/n. A year ago, Tom thought he had lost his chance with y/n, for good. A year ago, Tim had been the one that made y/n: “The one that got away.” Of course, not now, but it seemed that Tim really had been y/n’s endgame. Of course, Tom didn’t believe that now. But he was still not fond of the fact that his… that y/n was sleeping next to that man, literally, since their rooms were just right by the other. 

That pissed him off. He wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much if he was sure y/n loved him. But thinking about it just… bothered him. 

Tom had felt so lonely. So lonely and he had needed her so badly. And waking up without her one more time hurt. But he knew she probably was out there, making breakfast, or working on something, maybe gushing to Emma what had happened. 

He couldn’t think of why she hadn’t been there. That wasn’t really her thing, he knew, at least in New York she always waited until he woke up too. But he was probably overthinking. That was something Tom had learned while being apart. He had never really dealt with it, but he guessed that was what broken hearts do, they change you. 

And he’d never dealt a heartbreak like that one before, not that harsh. Maybe that was why he felt lonely again in her bed. 

This breakup had felt like it had been for good. He hadn’t told her about that, and they probably still had to talk about it, but Tom had really felt he had lost her forever. Because they were hurt, because they were apart, and because their life had taken different paths. Because everything was different. But then he had the night before as the sole proof they had both missed the other. 

He sat up and rubbed his face. Not wanting to deal with it, trying to get that thought out of his mind. So impossibly stuck there. But he was there now, right? But there was a lot they had to talk about, and maybe sleeping together could have been a setback. Except, he really thought it wasn’t, because it wasn’t sex. Yes, of course, it was passionate and hot and Tom probably wanted to repeat it. But it was intimate and their connection was still there. He knew it wasn’t having sex for the sake of sex. Though both of them had been desperate for it, he knew it wasn’t about the sex. It was more than that, so desperate, longing to touch the other as if there was a magnet pulling them together, bodies glued to each other as hearts synchronized in a sole emotion, fast heartbeats combined with short breaths and the sound of their names over and over again. And then so calm, and quiet, and tender, heartbeats getting steadier, 

Nobody said it would be easy, and Tom was well aware it wouldn’t be. Not for now because there were still secrets waiting to come out, and conversations waiting to be heard, and tears ready to be shed. He wished he could skip to the part where they were happy, if that part was ever to be reached. And though it wasn’t simple, it was something that he aspired. 

Though it was crooked, and he didn’t want to go there again. Not repeat the same mistakes they’ve done before. And so far it looked that way, from enemies who had to apologize, and who barely talked to desperately trying to hook up. He didn’t want to repeat history. 

They needed a new one, one that didn’t end in a heartbreak. Not their heartbreak, at least. 

He tried to look up for his clothes, his shirt was nowhere in sight. Though he probably knew who was wearing it. He knew y/n had a thing for wearing his clothes. He didn’t mind, he possibly couldn’t mind. 

He walked out of the room, shirtless as he sneaked out of y/n’s room, he didn’t see her right as he came out, so he walked to the kitchen, she wasn’t there, and not on the couch. Her apartment was small, so it rubbed the wrong idea on him. Had she left? 

And then he saw her walk out of what Tom assumed was Emma’s room. Or so he hoped it was her room. 

Emma locked the door right after y/n had walked out. 

“Very mature, Emma, very mature,” y/n whispered, rolling her eyes. 

“What do you know, y/n? You also did something stupid.”  Emma yelled from the other side of the room. 

“At least I accept it,” y/n yelled back. 

Tom chuckled slightly and awkwardly as he saw her, standing there against the door, wearing his t-shirt just like he had expected her to. 

Y/N finally turned around to see him, she blushed instantly. 

“Oh, hi,” she said softly, a smile spreading on her face. 

“Morning,” Tom answered walking over. 

She seemed nervous, embarrassed as she shuffled her feet, watching him. “Did you sleep well?” 

He had, for that matter. For the first time in months he’d finally slept peacefully. He had slept, for that matter. Not once had he woken up in the middle of the night to stare at the moon. So dramatic and melancholic but he couldn’t help it. 

He wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her close to him. “Hm,” he smiled, glance going up from her eyes to her lips. “Thought I wouldn’t wake up alone for the first time in months.” 

She avoided his gaze. “Sorry, Emma—made some noise and woke me up and—“

“And you did something stupid,” Tom pointed out. “I can only assume I am stupid in that equation.” 

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself,” she smirked. “You’re stupid in every equation.” 

He laughed, and then leaned over to kiss her cheek. 

She smiled, as his lips continued to pepper her face with small and soft kisses. 

“Tommy,” she whispered. 

“Hm?” He travelled down to her neck.

“Stop,” she giggled. 

He sighed as he stopped. “Hm, it’s only fair if you’re wearing my t-shirt.” 

“I—It was the first thing I found.” 

“In your room?” He pushed, laughing, 

She blushed looking away. “Yes, all my clothes disappeared,” she stated, walking her fingers through his chest. 

“How awfully convenient,” he smirked. She looked up at him and locked her eyes with his. As if both of them knew they had to talk and were avoiding it. Tom felt naked. And not for the fact that he was technically half naked and he was shivering each time her fingers brushed against him. He felt completely like his true self, he didn’t have to hide anything, but then again… they were alone. Even if Emma was on the other side of the door, they were alone. 

“You’re doing it again,” y/n mumbled looking away.

Tom laughed with confusion. “What am I possibly doing?”

“Last night you gave me those same eyes and look where we ended up,” she pointed out. 

He coughed, “Then with more reason I’m not stopping,” he smirked and finally pulled her close enough to kiss her. He felt her smile against the kiss. He pulled her and clumsily made his way back to y/n’s room, crashing against walls and furniture on their way. 

Tom quickly closed the door and slammed her against the wall as he kissed his way down her neck 

“Tom no wait—“she said. 

“Hm, need a cold shower again?” He asked. 

But she was pushing him away. “No, no, Tommy.” 

He sighed, still pressing soft clumsy kisses behind her ear. 

“Tom, no, really—We—“she sighed. 

“What?” He asked, lips brushing against her jawline. She closed her eyes and sighed heavily. “I was supposed to be angry at you,” she sounded disappointed at herself. 

He finally pulled away. “Hm why?”

“Because you’re an idiot,” she whispered. It seemed like she was trying to get back into her senses, yet she still hadn’t let him go.

“I am,” Tom admitted. “But—what does that have to do with anything?” 

She gulped. “Tom—we, we have to talk about it,” she sighed. “We can’t—“

“I know, we can’t keep avoiding it,” he bit his lip. “But maybe just— a few more minutes and we can talk about it on set,” he begged as he pushed her hair back. 

“No,” she finally managed to get out of his grip. “No, no… no.” 

“Fine, no then,” Tom watched her sit down on her bed. 

“You shouldn’t be doing my script,” she stated, avoiding his gaze. 

He rushed to sit down, taking her hands. “No, hey—But hey I want to, I really want to make something incredibly cool—“

“You don’t even direct,” she pointed out and watched him. 

“I—Look, it’s my first time…. But Harry does, and I have vision and I am part of the story.” He took her hand.

“Tommy,” she whispered. 

“Y/N.”

“And I know this kind of thinking brought us to our doom but I can’t—what if something  bad happens?” She asked him. “you know Tom and y/n type of bad, our own particular way of screwing things up.” 

“It won’t happen.”

“But if it does?” She questioned. “And you try to get back at me with the script?”

“I promise I won’t.” 

“But you really have to promise it,” she pleaded. 

“I promise y/n.” 

She pulled her hand away from him and stood up, running her hands through her hair, stressed enough. 

“No, you don’t understand Tom, this is my dream,”she sounded stressed. “this is the biggest dream I’ve ever had and I finally got a shot and I… I guess I forgot about it last night because I… Because…”she stared at him again. “I—Because I’m an idiot…. and I was blinded by the moment, but I never really—“she gulped.”I need you to understand this, you can fuck me up, if you hate me, like I don’t know, okay? But don’t fuck up my dreams, if this is your plan, if it-“

“No,” he stopped her. “Y/N—“

“No, no, listen to me,” she seemed stressed. “I don’t care if—You, whatever happened in the last few months,” she sounded hurt now. “Whatever happened or…” 

The last few months? Tom was confused by that statement, whatever did she mean…. 

“Whatever happens… Just don’t fuck my script up, please. It’s my dream, and if you—“

“Y/N, I wouldn’t do that.” 

It hurt that she still believed Tom was only a weapon designed to destroy her. 

“No, I know, I know,” she cleared her throat. “I’m—sorry, I—It’s… we still have a lot going on.” 

Tom was angry then. Was she the one supposed to be angry? Wasn’t he the one supposed to doubt her? Because he didn’t. 

Not entirely. Only… he understood she did have some reason to be upset about the script. Though he wasn’t sure how to tell her that he stupidly thought it would be his way of making their paths cross again. He knew their breakup had been hard enough to deal with and adding being apart and going different ways wouldn’t help. So his stupid mind decided to make their ways cross. Though he thought he hadn’t had a chance for it, but—He found it so easily. And if he hadn’t called he was scared nobody else would. The project was risky and different and not—not something people would like to dive into. Less if she was a debut writer. 

But Tom didn’t want to tell her that. That had he not offered to be a director, there was barely any possibility of having it. He wouldn’t ruin it, no. Less now that he had actually had the chance to read the wonderful script she’d written. 

He’d judged it. Yes, the first pages were harsh to him but then—Then he realized it, the character growth, the development and the story and how, like y/n had said in her letter, they were supposed to fall in love. 

Though at times one may think that y/n—Valerie was supposed to end up with someone else, she couldn’t. It was Valerie and William. Tom and y/n.

“We’re not ready, Tom,” she whispered again. “And I know, how dare me to set back when I was the one to ask you to stay and the one to…” She cleared her throat.”To walk in the shower with you.” 

“Yeah, but it’s… It doesn’t mean we have to either take a step forward or backwards,” Tom said. “I don’t think-” 

“I know, I’m not saying not to acknowledge it, I mean,” she took a deep breath. “I mean what happened last night is just like our confirmation that yes, we still have… Well I still have feelings for you.” 

“And I have feelings for you.” 

“But,” she gulped. “I don’t think this whole… ‘Let’s make out and forget about it’ thing will work,” she pointed out. “We—look, I—Although I may be… although I am acting this way there’s a lot of things we need to talk about.” 

“I know.” 

“But…” 

Tom frowned. “But?” 

“Whatever happens while we are working on anything related to Dos a Dos we won’t give in okay? Not for good or bad,” she stated. 

“Alright.” 

“I’m talking about being strictly professional,” she continued. 

“Okay.” 

“No fighting,” she sounded cold. 

“I know.” 

“And also,” she coughed. “No flirting.” 

Tom chuckled. “Hm that’s gonna be hard.” 

She sighed. “So where are we going to go from this?” 

Tom stayed quiet. It was harder than he thought it would be. He hadn’t healed, not completely. Maybe he hadn’t realized it until then, how he had avoided his pain just to be with her, and now that they were standing on that point, he didn’t know where to go. Why was this so incredibly complicated? 

He looked around the room and stared at the flowers taped to her wall again, too familiar but he still didn’t get where from. Maybe the flowers only reminded him of y/n. 

“Where do we want to go from this?” Tom asked. 

“I don’t know,” she gulped. “And do we want to go together?” 

Tom looked at her again. “I… well, I… I hope? Or… don’t you want it?” 

Y/N nodded. “Yeah it’s just.” 

He feared whatever her next sentence would be. 

“It sounds,” she looked down. “It sounds like a whim but… And it sounds illogical, doesn’t it? You and I, how after everything we’re still willing to try it. We’re too stupid, and…” She chuckled dryly. “And you know, I’m crazy, and you’re… Too stubborn,” she gulped. “And I don’t know if I want it, you know? For us to fall down another time, and let our pride and our immaturity win over us again, you know? I don’t think either of us can afford another heartbreak.” 

Tom knew she was right. 

“It seems like we are sentenced to fail,” she sighed. “But then again I know that if we don’t try it, I won’t be able to…” She squinted and chuckled. “Dunno, but I know that if I dared to ask you, neither of us would be able to move on, right?” 

“I know I wouldn’t.” 

“And I know I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night, and no cold showers would help to cool us down,” she conceited, making Tom chuckle, “and though it might be a mistake, it might be the best mistake I am willing to make.” 

Tom smiled, slightly and sadly. “Yeah,” he gulped. “And if we don’t I’ll be glued to the phone waiting for your call or trying to stop myself from calling you, but end up doing it anyway.” 

“That’s our problem, we’re always waiting for each other to make the first step and then we do take it, we both get scared,” she explained. “And though it makes no sense, and I really wished we both could either say yes or no, we both know it’s not simple.” 

“No,” He gulped. “But maybe it does have some logic to it.” 

“Hm?” 

“You and I, I mean,” he gulped. “I mean, no matter how hard we try, I’m always drawn back to you, and no matter how hard we’ve… I mean you always end up haunting my dreams.” 

“Haunting.” 

“Like a ghost,” he chuckled. “And though it makes no sense, I still feel that whole stupid and cliché thing, my heart beats the same way as yours.” 

“You’re so cheesy,” she blushed. 

He leaned to kiss her cheek. “I know, it’s disgusting.” 

She laughed. “Yes, you’re only giving me reasons to bully you.” 

“But I actually,” he smirked. “Those aren’t my words. I must admit I plagiarized them.” 

Y/N blinked watching him. “What?” 

“Well, not really, but I did,” he chuckled. “But I do remember a certain Valerie saying it, ‘my heart beats to the same rhythm as Will and maybe that’s why I can’t stay away from him’” 

Y/N instantly blushed. “Yeah, uh,” she coughed. “Yeah...Did she say that? Did-” She cleared her throat. 

“Oh, yes she did, she very much did and I’m not cutting that off the script,” he teased. “It’s-” 

“No,” she shook her head. “I--no” 

“Why are you embarrassed?” 

She chuckled. “Because it’s too cheesy.” 

“Please, y/n, we’ve all known you’re cheesy, I mean the whole boxes things, the songs, the magical moments, I mean the polaroids, please y/n all you is cheesy but with class and aesthetic, just look around your room, that vinyl over there…  the flowers hanging on your wall which-” Tom stopped. He realized it. Where he knew the dried flowers from. He knew exactly why they were so familiar. Tim’s instagram. He remembered the picture and the quote: ‘Morning Bloom’.  He gulped.

“Yeah, I know, I’m cheesy,” Y/N chuckled. 

But Tom barely heard her, he felt it. And… It could mean nothing. It could be nothing, of course. Tim loved photography and aesthetics and… It didn’t have to mean anything. It couldn’t, could it? But why had he been in her room? Was there a reason? He hated this. He felt a stab through his heart. It had to mean nothing. Right? He guessed he had to see how y/n reacted about it. It could be an old picture. But… it seemed to be the same flowers, but maybe y/n liked those and always changed them. 

He had to ask about it, he knew but not right now. He didn’t want to have that answer just yet. But he needed the answer, and he wouldn’t be able to continue but of course, ruining that moment and pull a ‘Tom’ and walk out angrily and not explain anything to her would be stupid. He wasn’t going to make the same mistakes. But god, he wanted to. Fucking Tim. Of course now he thought the picture was probably a way to shove it on Tom’s face. But… 

“Tom?” She asked again, getting him out of his trance. 

He blinked. “Huh? Yeah.. Yeah.” He gulped. “What?” 

“I… asked if you were hungry?” 

“Ah, yeah, right. Yeah.” 

But he wasn’t, not after that sudden realization. 

Emma, two rooms away from there, felt stupid. The night before had been so blurry. And she hadn’t really realized how much seeing Harry hurt her. Y/N had tried to understand the situation. How did you get to sleep with Josh? 

Emma didn’t know, for that matter. How and what had led to that? Completely clueless. Of course Josh was attractive and he hadn’t hesitated on throwing his shot, especially because he’d probably been oblivious to the obvious tension Emma felt around Harry. Maybe Josh had chosen to ignore it. He had pointed out the tension between Tom and y/n, though. 

“This is weird, but do you guys know each other?” Josh had asked. “Or did y/n/n and Tom know each other?” 

“What gave it away?” Harry had laughed. 

“Oh, you know, the fact they went from undressing each other with a glance and then trying not to cry every time they had any eye contact.” 

But what about Harry and Emma? 

One of Emma’s strengths was hiding her real feelings. She was so good at avoiding it. Probably because she wanted everyone to believe she was a tough bitch who had her life in control. Even if she was tearing apart. 

Like she was the night before. That nerve wrecking heartache she was feeling all night each time she managed to look at Harry. She tried not to. Not a single word directed to him. 

Emma was hurt. 

Sometimes it bothered her that nobody could see how much she was drowning, as if she was seen just as a casualty from Tom and y/n. Everybody liked to forget she was hurting too. Not y/n, though. Y/N tried to get her to talk, and to talk about her feelings, and to mourn about it. She didn’t.

She couldn’t. 

Only person she had been able to open up completely to was Harry, and we know how that ended. Emma was struggling because she really wished she could be like y/n, so forgiving or so stupid. Stupid enough to sleep with Tom and forget her sorrow, that is. 

But Harry and her worked differently. Harry and her were talkers. Tom and y/n, according to y/n, barely liked to talk. Or that’s what y/n had said, in their short relationship, apparently, they were more...physical. And it seemed they still were. 

Emma was nobody to tell y/n what she couldn’t or could do. And Emma had known that y/n would end up sleeping with Tom the moment she saw them hold hands during the movies. 

Emma knew Tom was more about actions, for god’s sake no matter how stupid he was, he at least had already tried to talk to y/n, he had searched for her and he had, stupidly, of course, invited himself to the movies with them. Tom wasn’t playing. Maybe that’s why y/n was so dumbly smitten with him. If he wanted, he fought for it. The man didn’t think twice before doing something and sometimes it got him in trouble, but sometimes it didn’t, and well, it led him somewhere. At least he’d gotten laid. 

Emma was very much like Tom. And she knew y/n was very much like Harry, in a way. Emma, too, liked to get what she wanted. But the truth is, she didn’t know what she wanted. Of course, last night she’d finally gotten laid. Though she had been all the time claiming she would, she had never slept with anyone before. She’d always end up thinking about Harry. 

She didn’t know where she got it from, the guts to sleep with somebody else. Maybe it was her way of telling Harry that he’d have to fight for it, that hiding in the shadows and being shy wouldn’t get him anywhere. He needed to fight back for her. 

That’s what led her to sleep with Josh, she guessed. She had tried to see how far she could get flirting with Josh, trying to make Harry jealous until he exploded or did something. Emma wanted Harry to fight for her. 

He hadn’t. 

He had let Josh flirt with her and Emma flirt with him. Why was this so damn hard? Did he not want to fight for her? 

That was the single poisonous thought that had driven Emma to sleep with Josh. She hadn’t told that to y/n, of course. 

“I just needed to, y/n.” 

That was half-true. She did need to. But of course, she didn’t want to explain that to y/n. Not really. Especially because Emma knew that y/n was to Harry what Emma was to Tim. So if y/n had reserved herself a little from telling her about Tim, then Emma would reserve herself from telling her about Harry. 

Besides y/n’s choice to sleep with Tom was a thousand times more stupid than Emma’s choice. Emma had absolutely no feelings for this other guy and she was sure Josh didn’t feel anything either. It had just been one drunken one night stand. Nothing important. It didn’t matter. 

But she guessed y/n had some points to herself to brag about. Y/N didn’t regret her night. 

Emma had gone to take a quick shower, y/n had advised her to so Tom wouldn’t suspect a thing, and Emma would have to complain about them being loud, or whatever. 

Emma, all dressed up and cleaned and trying to put on some makeup to hide the fact she hadn’t slept at all, walked out with a towel wrapped on her head. She heard y/n’s laugh coming  from the kitchen. 

She walked closer… and Emma saw it. The way they looked at each other, so, so, so in love and she finally  understood y/n. Yes, she still thought she was an idiot but she understood it, and Emma was thankful Tim hadn’t been around to see it. 

The way they were staring at each other as if they were having their very last breath and didn’t mind at all, like telling the other: you’re worth it, you’re worth my last sunshine. It was so ridiculously romantic, Emma wouldn’t normally be a fan of that, but she felt butterflies just from watching them. Like when you’re watching a movie and see the lead romance and long for it. 

The way their laugh emerged into one and how they were trying to touch each other, not with lust but with curiosity. Not like one of those clingy couples you see on the street that are always glued to each other, no, Emma was even jealous of what they were having, hands so desperately trying to connect with each other. Magnetized skins. Not a single kiss, but it felt wrong watching them, they weren’t even touching in any compromising way. But they felt so intimate. 

Emma realized it then, why y/n was so confused. Because Emma remembered how Tim looked at y/n, too. What did that girl have that had those two idiotic men so mermerized with her? 

She didn’t blame y/n, no, she couldn’t. And Emma wished she’d seen the way Y/N looked at Tom before the engagement party incident. Then she wouldn’t have doubted her.  Because the way y/n was beaming and shining and glowing near Tom was incredible. She wouldn’t have doubted y/n. 

She’d doubted Harry, of course. That was the problem. Because why wouldn’t she doubt him? Even more now that she saw the way Tom was blown away by y/n. And how Tim was, too.

But when she saw Tom and y/n, she was reminded of her own love story, maybe the butterflies were caused because she recalled Harry, and staring into his eyes and smiling for no damn reason. Loving him for the sake of loving him. Giggling and having intimacy without even having to touch the other. 

It mirrored Emma and Harry, just as they had become engaged. Making breakfast together, music playing in the background, Harry placing a sweet kiss to her cheek, her feeling like she was in heaven. 

And she saw it now, the way y/n probably was in Cloud 9 as Tom said something to make her smile. 

It wasn’t the first time she’d seen her smile that way. Because she’d also seen y/n with Timmy, their chemistry was undeniable. It made no sense how she was seeing her now with Tom when just a few days before she’d seen her laughing with Tim, a loud laugh and a wide smile on her face, after he had said the most stupid comment, yet y/n was almost on the floor, both of them making the same stupid jokes to bother Emma. Timmy and y/n were basically the same person, it was even pathetic how stupidly alike they were. Everybody had said it, for a reason, Emma knew how perfect they were for each other. 

Emma had seen how Timmy was trying to flirt with y/n, he wasn’t subtle, and y/n did answer to his flirting from time to time. 

But Emma guessed that’s not really how love works, or was it? 

Emma could quite put her kind around y/n, but she understood why she didn’t let go off Tim either. 

But Emma also knew that to get that smile from y/n, Timmy had had to fight. While Tom only had to show up, so simply. 

Emma understood it, she wouldn’t let go off someone who made her feel...alive. Though that seemed stupid and cliché. But she’d seen a change just in two days y/n had… changed and felt. Y/N had cried, and yelled and now laughed. 

Maybe Emma wanted that, too. She knew she could feel with Harry. But… Harry probably had given up on her. Maybe Emma had to be like Tom, and make sure Harry felt something, too. 

“Morning, idiots,” Emma said before taking off the towel. “Thanks for not letting people sleep last night.” 

Tom jumped and quickly turned to see Emma. “Oh-- Hi, uh, I’m sorry.” 

Y/N only side-eyed her. 

Emma laughed. “So, you guys are a thing now?” She asked, and judging by both their reactions, she shouldn’t have. Both of them had only widened their eyes and panicked. “You know what, don’t answer that, but next time get… a hotel room or whatever.” 

Tom and y/n blushed, y/n even coughed. 

“I didn’t hear you come in,” Tom pointed out. “Sorry.” 

Emma rolled her eyes. “You guys were busy.” 

Tom blushed harder. “I’m… really sorry.” 

“No, don’t be, as long as I get some breakfast which--” Emma frowned. “Pancakes, huh, y/n?” 

Y/N looked up. “Yeah, what about it?” 

“You guys are totally cliché,” Emma rolled her eyes. 

Tom laughed. “It was my idea, sorry,” he shrugged. 

“And you didn’t complain, y/n?” Emma frowned. 

Y/N chuckled. “Why would I?” 

“Why would she? It’s her favorite food,” Tom chuckled. 

Emma smiled, slightly. Y/N was a mystery to her. 

“So, did you guys get any inspiration for the movie?” Emma asked. 

Y/N and Tom both watched her with surprise. 

“From Dirty Dancing, idiots,” Emma rolled her eyes. “You both really-” 

Tom chuckled. “Yeah,” he coughed. “I did, I did… Um, I need some 80’s songs, we, I’ve been thinking about it, the whole setlist for the dance and-” 

“That’s what you’ve been thinking about?” y/n frowned, laughing just slightly. “That?” 

Tom chuckled, and nudged her lightly. 

“Oh, please, but you guys shouldn’t have any trouble with that,” Emma commented. “Y/N here probably knows more about the 80’s than Madonna or George Michael themselves.” 

y/n chuckled nodding. “That might be true.” 

“Might be?” Tom rolled his eyes. “You know everything about the 80’s.” 

Emma grinned. “Besides, I know you, uh, okay, I might give you some ideas…” Emma bit her lip. “God, I know no 80’s songs, I know 70’s, that’s my thing, so if you guys ever need some 70’s advice, that’s my thing, but.. 80’s…” She gulped. “Uh, dunno, that catchy song um.. ‘I think We’re alone now’...” 

Both Tom and y/n once again were awkward. Could Emma say something without making them feel awkward? It was so weird and stupid. 

“Or not…” Emma finished. “But okay, so… thoughts on the script Tom, any big changes?” 

“I thought of changing the name, not going to lie,” he said. 

Y/N frowned. “Tom! What even to?” She nudged him.

“Dunno, the story of how y/n y/l/n broke Tom Holland’s heart and still has him wrapped around her finger,” Tom joked. 

“That’s a very stupid name, it wouldn’t be marketable,” Emma pointed out. “But we could change it to the script that changed all the Holland’s lives.” 

“It’s not catchy,” Y/N commented, she coughed. “I chose the name because its back to back in French, and it’s a dance step and it’s a-” 

“Metaphor, like everything you do,” Tom finished. 

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Not everything but… Yes, a metaphor and it’s a play on vis-a-vis which means face to face.” 

“Alright,” Tom grinned. 

“And dos in Spanish is… two.. so it’s just a play on words two.. To two…” Y/N coughed. 

“Alright, so I need to know more about the metaphors,” Tom grinned. “My brain is to dumb to get it.” 

“So... y/n, look I don’t want to ruin this adorableness or awkwardness you guys have but you’re meeting cast today and I don’t want you to be late, so, I need you both to get going, and stop being adorable, it makes me sick, and please Thomas, go get some clothes, don’t show up shirtless with the cast.” 

Eventually Tom had left, and Emma had seen them both hesitate when it came to y/n saying goodbye to him. He did kiss her before he left. 

Which left Emma and y/n alone to deal with the conversation, except y/n hadn’t stayed there, she had rushed to get ready. Leaving Emma alone with her thoughts again. 

But she didn’t even have the time for it before her phone rang. 

“Timothée,” she answered. “Why are you bothering me so early in the morning?” 

He chuckled from the other side of the line. “You’re so nice to have as a best friend.” 

“I’m a delight, I know,” she sighed. “So.” 

“So you slept with Josh?” Tim asked. 

“Oh, so you’re calling for that,” Emma coughed. “Thought you were going to ask about y/n first, that’s what you usually do.” 

Tim gulped. “I don’t.” 

“You know you do,” Emma sighed. “But yes, I slept with Josh, big deal.”

“You’re avoiding your feelings again,” he pointed out. “So do you want to talk about that, maybe?” 

“No, I don’t,” Emma coughed. “Look, I freaked out and... Josh was flirting and then Harry did nothing to impede it and-” 

“There it is,” Timmy sighed. “So you slept with someone to feel like you were liked huh?” 

It seemed that a lot of people did that. Sleeping with someone because they felt like shit. 

“You really can’t judge me, huh, you’re one to sleep with your exes when you know they’re-” She didn’t finish her sentence. It was too cruel to say it, and Tim was her best friend and he didn’t deserve that. 

“They’re in love with someone else, yeah,” Tim coughed. “I know.”

“Well, what did you realize? Or did you only call to judge my actions?” 

“No,” Timmy said. “I’m sorry, I want to help you out but seriously Emma you can’t keep avoiding it.” 

“And you can’t avoid it, either, Tim, you are avoiding what’s actually happening and you haven’t tried to address it.” 

“What do you want me to address?” Tim asked. 

“Oh, piss off and ask away, I know you want to.” 

Timmy stayed quiet for a bit, but then took the guts to ask her. “Has y/n talked to Tom?” 

Could Emma tell him? Did she have to tell him? It was none of her business but at the same time she knew it was. It kind of was. Emma guessed y/n was too worried on what to do with Tom that she’d forgotten that she’d kind of given hope to Tim. 

Did she have to tell Tim? Because she didn’t want him to be hurt, but he would be, anyways. 

“They’ve talked, and I mean, he went out with us last night so...” Emma started, deciding on the way what she had to tell him. “You know how it is.” 

Tim gulped. “I love her.” 

“That’s your big realization?” Emma asked. “That’s not news.” 

“No,” Tim sighed. “I just… We talked that night.” 

“Oh, you did?” Emma frowned. 

“Yes,” Tim coughed. “And--” 

“What?” 

“Well, she did say she would always be in love with me,” Tim said. “And...Well, it’s weird, okay? She said I had been the only man she’d ever fallen in love with.” 

That wasn’t true. Emma frowned. “But-” 

“Besides Tom,” Tim finished. “And that she… She didn’t believe that her and Tom could work out, that deep in her heart she didn’t believe they could work out, and that she was scared and-” 

“Tim, look, I….” Emma didn’t know how to tell him. Because she had seen y/n and y/n was so in love with Tom. It was so obvious. 

“I look, I know, I know she’s too blinded by Tom right now, but look, she was in love with him before she dated me, and I still… Like, I just need her to see that he’s not the right choice, you know? That sure, whatever, she always wanted to kiss him, but that’s not… Not what love is, you know? It’s about a deeper connection, and we… We had that, even that night, we were both so entranced with the moment, and it wasn’t…I just need a chance to prove her, you know?” 

Emma didn’t know what to tell him. Because she guessed that’s what y/n liked. Someone to have some initiative, after all, that’s why Y/N had dated Timmy in the end because he had fought for her. 

Which drove Emma insane, because why didn’t Harry have it? Why was Harry the one to wait around and do nothing? It made no sense. Because Emma needed him to, and y/n needed both of them to back away to have some time to herself. It was ironic, even. 

Harry. Harry. Harry. He had left early in the night after he’d given up with Emma ignoring him. Yes, she had been harsh on him by ignoring him, probably. But did she have any other choice? She had been heartbroken, he had basically told her: I won’t be able to be happy because you’re not her. 

It drove Emma insane. So, so insane. And sad. 

“Yeah, fight for her,” Emma sighed. “Anyway… I need to go, I’ll see you tomorrow…?” 

“Tonight, I’m coming home tonight.” 

Was Emma too proud? But she wouldn’t beg Harry, she wasn’t one to beg, no, no. And she wasn’t the one supposed to beg, was she? Emma was fierce and strong. 

And she had avoided Josh at all cost when they arrived at the studio. He had said hello but Emma had decided to follow y/n around instead.  The cast would be there later, and Emma was thrilled. So was y/n. She thought she’d see y/n all over Tom, kissing again, but their attitude had changed back to the same cold attitude from the day before. Well, to everyone else, but Emma had noticed their glancing. Tom staring at her. 

Emma didn’t look at Harry, but she did feel his staring. Harry was so stupid. Why didn’t he try to… say anything? He had said hello, and asked how she was doing but that was it. 

“But okay, we have to--” Tom gulped. Y/N and him were talking about the script, as if no trace of their night before. “I mean, each song needs to… We need a choreographer but for sure we have to decide the songs, I mean you have some here but I think we can… Build more from it you know?” 

“Yeah, I mean dancing is,” Harry coughed. “But we saw it last night in Dirty Dancing, though, how like… They build up from it.” 

“Of course, but I think, look, the songs we choose really have to be... “ She gulped. “Like okay, there’s Valerie who’s friends with Robbie and they have this… Like the music she listens to while with each of them is different. But there’s like two Valerie’s.” 

“The one who she is with William and the one with Teddy or Harry” Tom nodded. 

Y/N bit her lip. “Yeah, in a way, look, uh, the music,” y/n said. “It’s got to have different tones, like different 80’s songs, Valerie, as we know, likes to listen to Rock n’ Roll, and…Robbie does, too. And well, both William and Robbie are somehow into music, you know?” William with his dancing and Robbie with his band.” 

“But Robbie is rock n’ roll and William is… well,” Harry commented. “Of course, but music with William is-”

“Chaotic,” y/n added. “No, but the songs that we want to associate with William is the one they dance to, together.” 

“Yeah, and y/n by her own has to have her own songs, you know?” Y/N commented. “And… then we have Teddy who is the outsider, the poet, who showed Valerie other forms of expressing herself… you know? Look the script starts with Valerie’s heartbreak, and then Teddy comes in, and she decides to dance again, you know, cheerful music, she starts so somber and then-” 

“Okay but we could-- I mean, just an idea,” Harry coughed. “You wrote her Don’t Go Breaking My Heart,” he commented. “I mean it’s Auli’i and Jordan… They both sing, so maybe…” 

“I think I know where you’re going,” she smirked. “That would be cool.” 

“So instead of dancing, they sing?” Tom said. “Yeah, better, only singing ” 

“But they have to dance,” y/n commented. 

Tom frowned. “Yeah but-- It’s better if the only one she dances with is William.” 

“But she dances with Teddy, too,” Emma frowned as she finally chipped in. She knew where y/n had wanted to go with the script and these two men were too stupid to understand it. “It’s  Valerie who wanted to be a dancer and always danced by herself but stopped trying to pursue the dream after her heart is broken, and then Teddy, though he’s not a dancer, they dance together clumsily because…” 

“What?” Tom frowned. 

“Please, it’s like in Dirty Dancing, right?” Emma said. 

Tom blinked. “Dirty Dancing? But I don’t-” 

“Didn’t you get it from last night?” Emma wondered. “What the dancing is meant to represent?” 

Y/N coughed, awkwardly. 

Emma thought it was too simple to understand, knowing y/n’s story, it was so simply to deduce it. 

Yet, Harry and Tom were both watching the girls with confusion. Emma chuckled. “Okay, so Dirty Dancing is a coming of age film… Baby is embracing her sexuality,” Emma explained. “Even in the beginning she’s…Unexperienced, alright? The only dancing she initially knows is the dumb merengue lessons, and when she first dances it’s… Dumb and she doesn’t know how to, and then she’s exposed to the dirty dancing, which is exposing her to the sexuality, alright?” 

Tom closed his eyes and chuckled. “What but this is-”

“Throughout the film,” Emma continued. “We see Baby exploring her physicality through dancing, and it’s not about sex, it’s about her discovering her womanhood, and her being fine with it, and it’s such a nice point of view to see the film, it’s through the woman’s gaze, you know? Because we see Johnny as the sex appeal, not her, you as the viewer are growing with her… she’s getting confidence over her body, and--She explores it while partnering with Johnny Castle, and how he’s experienced and she learns it from another woman, too, you know, like she’s being transferred her knowledge, and in their first dance, Baby’s developing sexual and romantic feelings towards Johnny- and it represents--” 

Tom chuckled awkwardly again. “But okay, that’s Dirty Dancing, this is not--” Tom chuckled. “I mean I’m sure the dancing means-” 

Y/N and Emma were not moving. Emma thought they had understood it. 

“I mean,” y/n was shaking now. “Okay, well, you obviously know how the first dance scene with William and Valerie… first they don’t, though they want to... they just don’t dance together and keep screwing up.” 

“Yeah?” Harry was so confused. 

“And Valerie doesn’t feel comfortable dancing,” Emma continued, knowing y/n was too embarrassed to explain it to the boys. “And…then she dances with Teddy, and she’s cool, but--” 

“I don’t get it-” Harry said. 

But Emma was sure Tom had understood it by then. But it seemed that it had bothered him. 

“But--” Tom chipped in. “So the only two people Valerie ever danced with are William and Teddy? And...Teddy was the first person she danced with?” 

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[justasparkwritings]

Exile: Five Whole Minutes

Previous: Breaking Branches

Pairing: Timotheé Chalamet x Reader

Genre: Angst, Slice of Life

Rating: PG15

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: Timothée’s crossed the line... now what?

Exile Master List

         She left a kiss on his cheek as she ran down the stairs and out to the garage. She knew he’d remember her 10:30 workout, a Saturday staple, but she texted to remind him that today she had brunch with a few friends. She delicately wrote a note, which she set next to a freshly filled glass with water before setting it on the bathroom counter, ibuprofen next to it. She knew he would be dehydrated when he awoke, not only from their intimacy the previous night, but from the copious amounts of alcohol they drank.

         Timothée had begun shipping a few boxes home from vineyards and distilleries that he’d enjoyed while filming, often holes in the wall that had no Yelp review, often small family owned places. He’d send a case to his parents, one to his agent and manager, and one home. She loved that he brought home specialty liquor, particularly because it made their bar a little gauche and allowed her to feign any understanding of the complexities of alcohol. She preferred prosecco, preferably under $15 and easily accessible in her local grocery stores liquor aisle.

        Timothée was a connoisseur, a wannabe sommelier. He had an impeccable palate, which always terrified her when out at restaurants or catching a drink on a Thursday, unsure what to order. She often deferred to him, leaning on his expertise. At first, he thought it was charming, he liked that she wanted him to pick it out. In reality, she was avoiding looking like an idiot in front of a man she liked so much so quickly. Eventually she shared her insecurity, and the next time they were out, he asked if she wanted him to order for her, and since then, he had taught her a lot about alcohol, about making drinks, about which wines paired with what. In her heart, she didn’t care, but she felt more confident every time they went out.

           They loved sharing nights over a new acquisition. But it could also be their downfall. Last night they had tasted three different bottles of vodka, sipping slowly on their drinks while they caught up and made out.

           Timothée had returned on Tuesday from filming. Much like his other projects, he was completely burned out. Yes, set tended to have a lot of downtime, but Timothée was a pro, and he knew that the last two weeks were often the most grueling. Filming all hours, getting shots and different takes and angles on every scene. His body was physically worn down, and his mind had tried to separate himself from the incident two months prior. The minute he got to their house, she was waiting with a scalding bath, the perfect balance of Epsom salts and lavender. She knew him so well and slowly undressed him and herself, languidly moving into their tub. The music was low, the lights were dimmed, and they sat together, skin pruning, reacquainting themselves with the intimacy they had missed.

           She’d made dinner and they ate in comfortable silence. Then, she gave him a melatonin gummy and he passed out at 8PM.

           There was nothing like falling asleep in your own bed, in your own house, with the person you love, after being away for three months. His accommodations abroad were always nice, often over the top for him. He took it upon himself to become friends with the staff, to say hello to every member he saw, and he took his politeness very seriously, particularly in a country where he didn’t speak the language. But his own sheets… waking up to her … his own bathroom with the perfect water pressure … and a closet where his clothes were put away correctly, where laundry was done when he wanted it to be when, where he could cook any time of day. Their house was home, whether it was this estate or the flat in New York.

           He fell asleep quickly and awoke early afternoon to find her gone to work, but his favorite pastries from their local bakery waiting for him. Upon her return she found him doing laundry and making space for his new purchases. He left a surprise for her on the top of the counter in their closet, knowing she’d find it when she came up to change.

           “Babe, what’s this?” She asked, carrying the bag into the laundry room.

           “It’s a gift,” He said, folding the stack of t-shirts.

           “You didn’t have to,”

           “I wanted to,”

           “Tim, this isn’t because you feel-

           “No, it’s because I saw it and I thought you would like it. I like to buy you things while I’m gone,” He said shrugging.

           “I really like it,” She said, holding the bag tight to her chest.

           “I’m glad,” He stopped folding to take her in. She was still in her professional attire, hair pulled back and dangling earrings still in. “You look beautiful.”

           “Thank you, I had an important meeting this afternoon,” She looked up from the bag and caught him staring.

           “That’s a good color on you,” He said, moving towards her to rest his hands on her hips. She’d missed his touch and shivered at the contact.

           “Thank you,” She whispered, eyes darting from his lips to his eyes. He mimicked the movement and leaned in to kiss her. She turned her head. “I need to change.”

           She turned on her heels and walked back to their closet, silently screaming.

           Timothée didn’t protest or pry, he knew why she’d pulled away. Perhaps after dinner they would talk, air things out. She was often hesitant to be intimate when he returned, unsure who he’d been with… the fact that she knew, the fact that she’d spent Friendsgiving at her house and had invited her to movie nights made it worse. Maybe she needed more time.

           Which is how they ended up drunk and having sex in various places in their home all Friday afternoon, evening and night. There was something in the liquor that loosened her up, and something in how he looked and spoke to her that reminded her how much he loves her. It was also because of the alcohol that they had officially ended their open relationship, deciding monogamy was what they both wanted. The incident with Florence had caused them to reevaluate their relationship. Wasn’t that the point of a relationship? To grow and challenge one another, and at the end of the day, make decisions together? It was on that note that they had made love most of Friday, and why he was sleeping until eleven on Saturday.

           Timothée was awoken by his phone ringing and loudly vibrating off the nightstand. Jolted from his dreamless slumber, he quickly reached for it and furrowed his eyebrows at the caller ID.      

“Hello?” He growled softly as he cleared his throat.

           “Hey Timmy, can we meet for coffee? I have something I need to talk to you about,” Florence said.

           “Oh, yeah. Sure. When?”

           “Can you do 30 minutes?”

           “Uh, yeah, yeah, where?”

           “Do you want to just come here?” She asked.

           “Sure, see you in 30 minutes,” He hung up the phone before jumping out of bed. He made the bed quickly, and thankfully tossed back the water and ibuprofen left for him. He scanned the note while he brushed his teeth. He slipped a baseball cap over his curls and slid into his favorite trainers. He hopped into his car, grateful that she was kind enough to put gas in it and drove off.

           It was three hours later when he heard the garage door open. He tried to wipe the snot from his face. He wondered if he washed his face quickly, would it make a difference?

           She came in through the garage, singing. As the door shut behind her, she was stopped by how quiet it was. Their home was never quiet, particularly in LA, where they often played music or podcasts throughout the house. As she paused, she listened, where was he?

           “Tim? Timothée?” She called moving through the kitchen. “Babe, where are you?” It was then that she heard a sniffle from the living room. She turned down the hallway and beelined for the space.

She stopped dead in her tracks as she took in the sight in front of her. His eyes were swollen and puffed. A pile of tissues sat on the coffee table, the box flipped on its side, no tissues left. His hat was long forgotten, the pile of tissues starting to form a dome on top of it. His curls were blown from his hands running through and tugging them. He glances at her through swollen eye lids.

           “Babe what’s wrong?” She asked, rushing to his side. He engulfed her into his arms, tears falling onto the exposed skin of her neck and shoulder.

           “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” He sobbed.

           “Tim, what’s going on?” She questioned, still holding him.

           “I’m so sorry,” He cried.

           “Tim, you’re starting to scare me. What’s wrong?”

           “Florence called, she wanted to have coffee,”

           Her mind began racing. She called today, she knew of their arrangement, had she decided she wanted more from Timothée? Had he slept with her, a day after they had decided to be monogamous? Had she called to say she gave him HIV or Chlamydia? Was she dying?

           “Okay, and?” She whispered, bracing for the hit.

           “She’s, she’s pregnant, and it’s mine, and she’s keeping it,” He tried to breathe, to inhale the air she’s exhaling, but she was rigid.

           “What?” She asked. She could feel her entire body going cold, her eyes filling with tears.

           “Florence… She wanted to get coffee and she told me,” He said. He sounded like a teenager who had had sex for the first time and gotten his girlfriend pregnant at Christian Summer Camp. Like his entire life was over, like his future was ruined. His voice was already pleading, though he didn’t know for what.

           “She’s pregnant?” She whispered.

           “Yes,” He said.

           “And it’s?” She asked.

           “Mine.” His voice cracked. “She wanted me to know and said we could talk about how involved I wanted to be. I have to think about it! I, I’m going to be a -

           “Okay,” She said, arms dropping to her sides. Her tone was hollow. “I’m um, congrats. I’m going to ...”

           She stalled, brain trying to work in overdrive to compensate for the sludge it was peddling through. She decided on her next action before running up the stairs. At first, he thought she was slamming the door to tell him to stay away. But then she came down the stairs, large suitcase packed. She didn’t stop to talk. She didn’t stop to listen to him. She didn’t stop to console him or offer him support. She didn’t stop as he called her name, as he followed her to the garage. She didn’t stop as she watched him fall to the floor in the space her car once was. She didn’t stop as she drove away from the house and the life they shared. He didn’t stop calling after her, even after his knees hit the concrete, the snot and tears mixing on his tongue as he tried to will her back.

Next: My Town

[noodlekugel]

The King Premiere in NYC - October 1, 2019

Last week, I went to the NY Premiere of The King at the SVA Theatre. Tumblr has eaten this post at least 3 times, so I apologize for the delay. 

All pictures above are mine - please do not re-post without credit. 

Below is a summary of my experience, and a brief review of the film.

Where to begin? First off, I was fortunate enough to get tickets to The King just as Timothée crashed Gofobo. The few days leading up to the premiere, I was riddled with anxiety - I was torn between waiting at the red carpet, or waiting in line for the screening, since neither was a guarantee. The film was going to be on Netflix within the next month so I’d get a chance to see it fairly soon, but we didn’t have that much information about whether the cast would be talking at the screenings themselves. Fortunately, the venue made my mind up for me - they set up one line, and only allowed ticket holders at the barricades for the red carpet.

I arrived earlier for this than I’d care to admit (the time was PM, but not that much after noon...), and was about 20th in line, which became 40th after the folks ahead of me let their plus ones join them. We were told there was room for about 40-50 people at the red carpet, but the people running the screening promised those around me that we’d make the cut.

So, the waiting began. I made some friends in line, some people I’d met before through Tumblr, Instagram and Facebook, and some new friends. Everyone around me spent the next six hours bonding over our shared love of all things  Timothée and Call Me By Your Name (because of course that’s how we all truly discovered him, even if we’d seen him in other projects before). I also met a few people who had commented on my fics in the past, and I outed myself to them, which is still feels like a weird thing for me to do.

Around 6PM, they started letting us line up at the red carpet. Thankfully, they handed us physical tickets for the film, which included seat assignments (!!!), which relieved so much of the stress that most of us were feeling about finding seats inside once we left the red carpet. My seats had a pretty terrible view of the screen, but they were free, so beggars can’t be choosy.

We got lucky, and @all-things-all-the-time and I got space on the barricade, close to the entrance of the theater. Much to our surprise, Timothée’s parents, Nicole and Marc, stood on the red carpet directly in front of us for about an hour. This is where I will now proclaim my fandom of Marc Chalamet (more on this later). He seemed so warm and talked with us for a little while. The folks from Netflix, or whomever were hosting the screening, gave out t-shirts (see my pictures above), which was a pleasant surprise.

Lily was the first to walk the red carpet. She spent some time down on our end, and we had a conversation with her about her dress, during which she was endlessly worried about creasing it. Notice in one of my pictures above, the back is slightly creased, but... we’re all human. I’m sure everything I wear is always creased, so I am not judging her at all for worrying about that... After she finished walking the red carpet, she spent time standing with Timothée’s parents, and chatted with Marc in French until her two friends arrived. When Pauline got to the red carpet, she gave Lily a warm hug (Lily’s back was to us, so I don’t know what her reaction was), and then attacked her parents with hugs and kisses. We heard her say multiple times how handsome both her father and brother looked. Also, she was wearing an awesome scarf with skulls on it, and wore sneakers to the red carpet, a move I can 100% get behind.

Eventually, Timothée made it to the red carpet, to screams comparable only to Beatlemania. Honestly, I felt verklempt, having watched his meteoric rise over the past two years. This was his first hometown premiere since Call Me By Your Name at the New York Film Festival. We asked his parents how they felt, and Marc said it was surreal. He entered on the opposite end from where we were standing, and he was surrounded by guards, media doing interviews, and photographers, so it took at least a half hour until he got to our end, with two jaunts outside of the red carpet, one across the street and one down the block to where other crowds had gathered. 

In my many years of going to concerts and theater and events with celebrities, I’ve never seen a celebrity spend more time with fans or act more gracious and humble than Timothée did. I think this is why I’ve stuck around the fandom for so long - he just seems so genuinely happy to take the time with every fan, of which there were hundreds. Unfortunately, when he made it to our end, he was being whisked off inside of the premiere, so he could only sign things quickly and take selfies without making much conversation. I did get a selfie (I’m not going to post it here, but I’ll share my pictures privately if you message me), but wasn’t able to get my copy of Call Me By Your Name signed, which I had gotten signed by Andre Aciman earlier in the year.

He promised he’d come back, but was pulled away and never allowed back outside, which was not his fault. When March realized that Timothée hadn’t signed @all-things-all-the-time ‘s fantastic embroidery hoop, he asked her if she had a pen, and chased him down so he could sign it for her. When he came back outside a minute later, in his adorable French accent, Marc apologized that Teeeee-mo-tay had stolen her pen. She can tell her own story better, but it ended with Marc giving her a hug.

So, once the red carpet was over, we were told to go inside of the theater. David quickly introduced the movie, pointed at the cast in the audience (Timmy did a dance move that I am too old to actually know but I think is called hit the woah?), and then they started the screening. He quickly left the theater to head to the Quad Cinema screenings a bit downtown.

As for the film, I’ll try to give a spoiler-free review since it’s not out for the public to see yet. Honestly, this wasn’t my favorite movie. Each piece of the film was fine, but this kind of movie is just not my cup of tea. I don’t generally like war movies, and I don’t love historical dramas about monarchies battling for their land and their people. Timothée had a very strong and nuanced performance. He carried the emotional weight of the film on his shoulders, and ably showed Hal/Henry in all forms, from immature and defiant prince to powerful and resolute king. Lily has maybe five minutes of screen time, at the end of the movie. I really like Thomasin McKenzie, and she has a few scenes at the beginning of the film as his younger sister. 

The stunt work and the battle sequences were well-choreographed and fun to watch, but I did feel like the movie could have been a half hour shorter. I think Robert Pattinson was my favorite part of the movie besides Timothée - his accent was over-the-top and the performance was flamboyant, but it worked for me. Each scene he was in garnered the biggest reactions from my audience, aside from the applause at the end when Timmy’s name came across the screen.

Overall, I didn’t dislike the film, but it’s not my favorite of the Timmy canon. If you’re a Timothée fan or a fan of historical epics, I recommend seeing it on a big screen, but otherwise, watch it on Netflix (but... definitely see it somehow). I did, however, have a wonderful time at the premiere, and can’t wait for the next film and the next event!

[prvntcessa]

listen up 10s a 4 is speaking! shdlaskhd what’s up sluts i’m cherry, i’m 21, use she/her pronouns and live in PST! this is mischa, princess of the russian mafia. she wears black lipstick, is massive scammer, laughs at videos of people falling down the stairs. here is a shorter sparknotes version of her bio and some fun and fresh headcannons

please enjoy this gif of mischa cosplaying indie xoxo

SPARKNOTES BIO! 

skeleton: the career criminal

name: mischa dostoyevsky ( formally xia han)

age: 25

gender: female

pronouns: she/her

fc: natasha liu bordizzo

born as xia to a dirt poor family of literal SCAM artists. we luv a scamily babey! her parents basically sold fraudulent anti-aging serum to dumb, white new york tourists everyday ( with the added bonus of her older brother dressed up like an OLD ASS MAN doing cartwheels n backflips like woooow this stuff really works! ) her job was basically sneaking through the crowd of people while they were distracted and pick-pocketing their money, valuables, shiny shit etc.  

that white savior guilt money was paying the bills until one of the karens they conned got hives from the allergic reaction to the red food dye they used in the fake serum and her brothers literal Old Man disguise flew off like 90s rapper fly away pants when it was windy as fuck one day so basically The Authorities Have Been Called Luv, the police showed up and xia didn’t know what to do bc she was a kid so she just BOLTED AND RAN ... does not know what happened to her family to this day

grew up on the street, continued the family business of being a fcking scammer and basically bought tampons by telling power walking, baby backpacking ladies that she was gonna have to feed little timmy cockroaches if they didn’t pay off, slept with crooked stock brokers, seduced old guys, cleaned out their apartments, stole all their money, jewels, watches, credit cards, priceless antiques -- THE WORLD WAS HER SUGAR DADDI BB

all of this changed on day when she making her nightly run by the alibi, a bar she called Dumb Rich Guy Bar and saw a weird old guy come out looooaded with what looked expensive shit,  but she really wanted his pocketwatch which from her experience was mad expensive. so she did her lil routine and THOUGHT she stole the watch but LOL SPIDERMAN MEME, he stole the watch back and the ring she was wearing AND HIS BODY GUARD HAD A GUN PLACED ON HER. MMM WHATCHA SAY

so turns out the weird old guy she tried to steal from was VLADIMIR DOSTOYEVSKY!!!! THE HEAD OF THE RUSSIAN FUCKING MAFIA. yiiiiikes! lmao she was like cool im gonna die but he was like hold up, u chose the pocket watch, the only real and valuable thing i was wearing ... i like u ur smart u have fire, u remind me of my dead wife  YOU WILL BE MY SUCCESSOR ur name is now mischa for my unborn son and i will teach u the ropes

so there is no more xia, only mischa, basically adopted by vladimir who she calls dad/nana and who calls her rabbit as a nickname (they play monopoly every night and VLAD CHEATS EVERY TIME BRO). she is the only girl in the bratva aka The Brotherhood which is what the russian mafia is called. shes kind of their wendy. shes worshipped outwardly but theres probably a lot of people that hate her ... which leads me to ........PAPA DYING! BIG RIP OG PAPA! he was poisoned at dinner and people say it was the italians but mischa is sure it was an inside job

bc of vlad dying *pour one out for vladdy daddy* mischa is head of the bratva aka russian mafia they call her PAPA bc thats how people refer to the mob boss SO SDHLLKDSH

ALSO PLOT TWIST! originally the plate that killed her dad was the plate she was given but he switched with her bc his piece of chicken was bigger and he wanted her to have it :((((( SO THE POISON PLATE WAS HER PLATE SO SOMEONE WAS TRYNA KILL HER DUN DUN DUNNNNNNN

ok here are HCS they are from the bottom of my app xx

nicknames include who’s your papa, big papa and daddy purely because it’s iconic. but also she is probably that gifset where rihanna is talking abt how shes a bad bitch w top energy but is a massive bottom ahdlaks

mischa i think has to look a certain way of looking when dealing w the mob ( sort of girl boss, designer clothes, femme fatale ) but i think she is relatively unlady-like and prefers ratty jeans, plaid skirts, flannels, black combat boots, messy ponytails and the like when she’s relaxing. reminds her of life before.

practices makeup on dmitri and boris (her body guards) who complain a lot but also love her xoxo 

owns a very big fluffy, luxurious cat named perogi, he’s her son, a gift from dear old dad. 

has a pretty severe drinking problem ( vodka on the rocks is the poison ) after her father died and sleeps with a gun ( although i think she's better with a knife )

thus can drink you under the table also swears like an old sailor man ( is working on it, the whole mob sighs when she calls japanese businessmen idiot douche canoe fuckbags to their faces during monthly debt collections )

mischa can speak 5 languages in order to speak to people all over the world: madarin ( from her childhood ), english, russian ( mob ), spanish and french. 

pansexual queen and i want to say scorpio 

she’s grateful obviously to папа doing more off the grid, low quality criminal stuff without supervision because she is a truant, tramp, scam artist cat burglar klepto at heart <3

cinnamon roll meme: looks like she could kill you and would probably kill you

so i want to say she probably met the star of the show doing something where she snuck out at night with her bodyguards not knowing, wore her civilian clothes, blended in kept her head down because she missed freedom and accidentally met them out there like that under a pseudonym to hide her mafia life/continued to sneak out to see them like that before being exposed. very double life stuff angsty secret mafia princess stuff. we love hannah mon-mafia.

scared her parents will resurface/past will resurface ( supposedly папа bribed the police but . . . karma is a bitch )

has A LOT of suitors meant to strengthen The Empire and bridge conflicts between mobs but cares little, them: 💕, her: hocks a loogie and wipes on pants … she SUCSKSSKSS

has burped at important business dinners before and simultaneously has brought massive mafiosos to their knees. literally will have your dick cut off if you say something misogynistic, racist or something about her father :) she has a collection. ( its a big collection, but still quite little if you know what i mean )

rumored to have killed a man with the sharp end of her louboutin.

has a slight accent just from being surrounded by it constantly and word switches

smells like cinnamon and scraped knees

[youngfolksrpg]

WELCOME TO NEW YORK, LYDIA.

Lydia Montgomery is a 32 year old local residing in Manhattan. She is a wedding dress designer who is known for being benevolent, charismatic, creative, considerate, empathetic, honest, logical, maternal, responsible, sensitive, and stubborn. Click read more to discover more about this character! Trigger Warnings: None.

• • • CHARACTER BASICS

Character Full Name: Lydia Danielle Montgomery. Nickname(s): Lyds. Age: 32. Birthday: June 30th. Occupation: Designer - specifically wedding dresses, but she’s expanding into wedding wear for men; owner of Montgomery Bridal. Birthplace: Seattle, WA. Borough: Manhattan Citizen Type: Local.  Ethnicity: Caucasian. Nationality: American.

• • • IDENTITY + HEALTH

Gender: Cisgender female. Pronouns: She | Her. Sexual Orientation: Bisexual. Romantic Orientation: Biromantic. Relationship Status: Divorced. Face Claim: Candice King. Hair Color: Blonde. Eye Color: Blue. Distinguishing Features: She has a few very small tattoos and is often found sporting a smile. Personal Style: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Physical Health: Overall okay - slightly poor vision, so she wears contacts. She has glasses for when she’s at home and doesn’t want to wear the contacts. Mental Health: Lydia has an overall good disposition. She’s been a little down in the dumps lately because of a divorce, but it’s nothing serious on her mental health.

• • • FAMILY

Parents: Arthur & Cynthia Montgomery. Her father owns his own plumbing business, and her mother is a school secretary. They both live in Seattle, WA still. Relationship with Parents: Lydia has a good relationship with her parents. It used to be stronger, but they don’t see each other as they used to because of distance. They talk occasionally on the phone, but Lydia is so busy that it’s hard to stay too connected. She always makes an effort to at least text them once a week and comment on anything they post on Facebook. Siblings: Quinn & Eliza Montgomery. Quinn is her fraternal twin, and Eliza is her younger sister. Eliza is 27 years old, and Quinn is naturally also 32. Relationship with Siblings: Similar to her parents, her relationship with her siblings used to be better. She likes to say they’re all still close, but it’s hard to truly be close when you’re living so far away. Lydia moved out to New York when she was 18, which put a strain on her relationship with her siblings since they stayed out west. With Eliza, she was 13 when Lydia left, so while they talk on the phone, through email, text, on holidays, et cetera, Lydia doesn’t know her as well as she’d like. Children: Unfortunately, no.  Relationship with Children: Lydia would love to be a mother. In fact, it was the reason her marriage ended up in divorce. Simply put, she wanted children, and her husband didn’t. It cause differences they couldn’t get past. Pets: An orange tabby cat named Timmy.

• • • PERSONALITY + MUSIC

MBTI: ESFP. Moral Alignment: Neutral Good.  Zodiac: Cancer. Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff. Alter Ego: Brooke Davis from One Tree Hill, although a little less friendly in high school and a better home life. Personality Traits: Benevolent, charismatic, creative, considerate, empathetic, honest, logical, maternal, responsible, sensitive, stubborn. Playlist: Lydia’s favorite songs. Cloudbusting - Kate Bush Doo Wop (That Thing) - Lauryn Hill I Hear the Bells - Mike Doughty Someone 5o You - BANNERS Memorized - Mat Kearney, RAC Supercut - Lorde Brave - Sara Bareilles Time to Pretend - MGMT Sunshine Riptide - Fall Out Boy If You Were Here - Cary Brothers (cover) Landslide - Fleetwood Mac Mamma Mia - ABBA I Believe in a Thing Called Love - The Darkness Trampoline - SHAED i - Kendrick Lamar Fine By Me - Andy Grammer Sweater Weather - The Neighbourhood Sea of Love - Cat Power Vogue - Madonna

• • • WANTED PLOTS

First and foremost, Lydia needs friends! She’s incredibly social, and she likes being around people. I’d love to have former friends from Seattle if any are around, along with new ones that she’s made since she came to NYC. She’s lived here since she started college at eighteen, so there’s plenty of years where she could’ve made friends with people. They don’t have to be in the designing world, because Lydia could’ve picked up friends anywhere - coffee shops, yoga buddies, neighbors at one point, et cetera.

She is also in need of some employees and clients. Lydia designs wedding dresses for a living and owns her own store where she explicitly sells only her line. She makes dresses that people can purchase, but she also will make custom dresses for someone who is willing to pay the price for it. Lydia doesn’t have any other designers in her store, but she’d have some employees that would be seamstresses or salespeople. Along with that, her business only flourishes if she has clients! If your character is getting married, come and hit a girl up for your dress.

Lydia attended Parsons for college, so any college friends?? Or even models! She would need models for runway and for editorial purposes. Perhaps even photographers to take pictures for her when she’s doing new campaigns and spreads? There are so many possibilities here when it comes to her work!

Stepping away from work related things, Lydia could use some exes. She was married for about five years and divorced in May of 2019. She would’ve had exes before then, or someone is even willing to make her ex-husband if you’re interested in it. Their ending was messy and related around differences on having children. They won’t get back together, but it’s always fun for some drama! If you’re interested in that, I’ll give you more details to what happened with the two of them.

• • • THE PLAYER

Lydia Montgomery is played by Paige. She is 29 years old and in the CST timezone. Please be mindful of their triggers: incest, rape, student x teacher plots.

[corcordium1983]

I Couldn’t Be More In Love

this started out as a blurb. it is no longer a blurb, I don’t think, considering it’s over 2000 words long. it just took on a life of its own, ok? anyway, it was inspired by the picture above, because it makes me sTRESSED. (this is unedited fyi bc I rly need sleep but also wanted to get it up tonight)

The first time you realised he was a clumsy idiot was when he spilled his drink on you at an after party. He’d been trying to manoeuvre you into his lap with one hand while simultaneously wielding a drink in the other. Thankfully it was a clear spirit, and nothing that would stain, but you were still less than thrilled about reeking of alcohol. He’d apologised profusely throughout the rest of the night, and in his drunken state had offered you his shirt to wear instead. You’d laughed it off and peppered him with kisses, assuring him it was all right. And it was, because he was there, and that was enough to make just about any situation better.

You should’ve expected it, should have seen it coming, based on the countless interviews and gifs that had been sent your way after the news of your involvement broke. Your favourite by far was the one of him tipping backwards on his chair at a panel – you still shoot him a warning smirk whenever you find him leaning too far back on a chair, and it never fails to make him blush.

To be honest, he’s not too clumsy normally. It’s only when he’s exhausted, overworked, or – as in the most prominent cases – drunk that he turns into a bumbling, uncoordinated fool. So you’ve learned his tells, and you’ve taken it upon yourself to keep a watchful eye on him when you feel like he (and his clothes, and other people’s clothes) are at risk. It would be such a shame to ruin a decadent Ackermann suit, after all.

The first time you pluck a champagne flute out of his hand as he leans in to hug some big-shot producer, he gives you a puzzled stare over the man’s shoulder. You offer him a shrug in return and take a sip of the champagne, before handing the flute back once he’s at a safe distance from the producer. He doesn’t question you about your move as you thought he would, but instead seems to let it slip from his mind as others come up to him to mingle. You can’t say you blame him – being Timothée Chalamet seems like a busy life to lead.

The second time it happens, your reflexes are only barely quick enough to avert the disaster. You’re at yet another party, a house party of sorts. You’re not quite sure who owns the place, but whoever it is, they must be loaded. Timmy had disappeared earlier in the night, slipping outside with an acquaintance of his, and returning approximately half an hour later with eyes that were suspiciously red-rimmed and the sharp scent of smoke clinging to his sweater. You’d rolled your eyes, but really, who were you to judge.

The accident, or what would have been an accident, takes place later that evening when he’s more than pleasantly buzzed on both alcohol and other substances. You’re hanging out in what looks to be a living room, and Timmy spots someone he recognises sat on one of the sofas. He bends down to hug the girl, not remembering the drink in his hand, and as if in slow-motion you see the glass tilting towards the expensive-looking dress the girl is wearing. You might have let out a small squeak of horror as you just about managed to snatch the glass out of your blustering boyfriend’s grip in time. He doesn’t even seem to realise that the glass is missing at first, too engrossed in the conversation. After a while, however, he looks down at his hand, then over to the nearby coffee table, and then he glances around with the most adorably confused expression you’ve ever seen. The confusion turns to a sense of realisation when his gaze lands on the drink in your hand, and when he makes grabby hands in your direction you’re not sure whether he means you or the drink, so you give him both.

The third time it happens he’s surprisingly not drunk, just very, very tired. He’s been caught in a carousel of press events across the globe for a month and a half, and now that he’s back in New York the jet lag seems to have finally hit him, badly. You suspect he’s been jet lagged the entire time, but that it’s only really caught up with him now that he has a few days off. It makes your heart ache, to see him so run down. You know he loves his job, and that he’s grateful of all the opportunities that have come his way these past few years, but you gently try to remind him every now and then that you don’t have to love every part of your job, and that no job is worth running yourself into the ground for. Still, the bags under his eyes appear to be here to stay, at least for a little while, and when you bring them up he just laughs and tells you they’re Gucci.

When you find him fumbling with his shoelaces just mere hours after arriving back home (honestly, judging by the state he’s in you’re surprised he even managed to get the correct shoe onto the correct foot), you try to tell him that dinner with his parents can wait. He’s got a few days before he has to leave again, and his parent’s aren’t going anywhere. You’ve got time. He however, in typical Timmy fashion, is stubborn as a goat.

“We’ve had this scheduled for ages, mom’s probably started cooking already,” he argues, and that’s the end of that. You purse your lips as he leans into you for support after getting out of the car at his parents’ place, but you don’t say anything. You trust him to know his own limits, and to act accordingly when he feels he’s met them.

Nicole and Marc are as warm and inviting as ever. The second you step through the doorway Nicole envelops Timmy in a hug. Marc pulls you in for a hug as well, telling you it’s nice to see you again (even though you’ve been over for dinner once every few weeks while Timmy’s been gone). Out of the corner of your eye you see Nicole running her hands over Timmy’s shoulders to smooth out the wrinkles, before her hands come to rest by his neck while she inspects him more closely. You make casual conversation with Marc while Nicole frets over the state Timmy’s in, worrying about the bags and dark circles underneath his eyes.

Timmy shoots you an impish smile before retorting with “They’re Gucci”. Nicole sighs and deems him a lost cause, and moves on to you instead, drawing you in into the same motherly hug you’ve come to expect from her every time you meet now. When you lean into her embrace, you take the opportunity the shield of her body offers to conspiratorially whisper “he nearly fell asleep on the way over here”. She leans back a little, keeps you at half an arm’s length and nods in understanding, before giving you a brief kiss on the cheek. The smile she offers you is one of sincere gratitude, although you’re not sure what you’ve done to deserve it. Behind you you can hear Timmy and his father quipping back and forth in rapid-fire French, and although your French is nowhere near as good as you’d like it to be you still manage to get the gist of the situation. His parents are worried about him. He works too much. He’s kept this insane schedule up for years now, and he needs a break. You can’t help but silently agree as you work your way towards the kitchen in search of a drink.

Disaster doesn’t strike until after dinner, when you’re all seated in the living room. Timmy had been lightly dozing off every few minutes throughout the meal, so once you’d settled onto your loveseat Marc had brought Timmy an espresso in the hopes that it would keep him awake for a few more hours. You warily eye the tiny cup that Timmy’s been sipping from where it’s perched on his leg, not trusting his grip on the cup in the slightest. And sure enough, mere moments later, before you have time to react, there is black coffee seeping into the denim of his trousers, which are thankfully black already.

Nicole and Marc share a look that appears to communicate a million different things all at once, and then there’s a flurry of activity as Marc springs up out of his armchair in the search of paper towels to clean up the mess. Nicole leans in and plants a kiss on Timmy’s forehead, asking us if we shouldn’t maybe stay the night so that he won’t have to sit through the cab ride home.

“There’s spare toothbrushes upstairs, and you should still have some clothes here that fit you.”

This time Timmy appears too exhausted to put up much of a fight, and that’s how you find yourselves crammed into the tiny single bed in his childhood bedroom. Not that you’re complaining, though, because he was out as soon as his head hit the pillow and you’re just thankful that he’s finally getting some sleep. You’re also very thankful for the big breakfast that awaits you the following morning.

After that failed attempt at evading disaster you have a few successful ones, and it seems like Timmy’s finally clocked on to what you’ve been doing all this time. He doesn’t get angry like you feared he might; instead, he gets teary-eyed. You attribute it to the lack of sleep due to awards season, as well as the drink that’s currently in your hand, but that was previously in his. He can’t stop touching you the rest of the night, which isn’t completely unheard of behaviour for him, but this time it seems like he needs constant reassurance that you’re real. In the cab on the way home he leans his head on your shoulder and laughs when you tousle his hair.

“I couldn’t be more in love right now,” he says. The scary part is, you think he really means it.

It’s two months later, and you’re on your third cup of coffee of the morning. You had a deadline an hour ago, and didn’t manage to get more than two hours of sleep last night. Since the deadline has now passed, and you managed to get your script sent off in time, that means that you could technically be sleeping right now. The only thing stopping you is that you’re conscious of your sleeping pattern, and don’t want to risk messing it up now that you’ve finally gotten it sorted to conform with normal people hours. You’ve therefore resigned yourself to a day of chugging coffee in an effort to stay awake until the evening.

Timmy’s got a rare two weeks off, something you both seem equally grateful for, so it’s not long until he pads softly into the kitchen on bare feet. You’ve still got all of your work spread out over the kitchen table, as you’d resigned yourself to working there so as not to keep him awake all night, and you’re now struggling with closing all the open tabs in your browser and moving all of the books and notepads. You spent so long working on the project that it’s difficult to accept that it’s done.

Timmy’s arms around your waist and his cold nose buried in the crook of your neck, as well as the scratchy stubble of his chin dragging against your sensitive skin, appears to bring you out of this work-induced fugue state. He mumbles a quiet “good morning”, his voice still low and raspy from sleep, as he peers into your almost empty coffee cup and silently crosses over to the coffee pot to refill your cup, and to make a cup for himself. You hum gratefully as he sets your steaming cup in front of you, and pulls out a frying pan and half the contents of the fridge in order to make you breakfast. You’ve missed this, quiet mornings (literally quiet, neither of you are very good on the talking-front until you’ve had your morning coffee and at least an hour to wake up properly) of domesticity, of just having him around.

You talk about your work over breakfast – scrambled eggs on toast along with a fruit platter. He’s read the earlier drafts of the project, but seems eager to read the finished product as well. You’re not meant to show it to anyone, but you already know you’ll cave, so you set about drawing it up on your laptop. You don’t even see it happening, but before your brain even registers what’s going on, there’s a lithe hand grabbing your coffee cup and moving it far out of the way. With a slight twinge of panic, you realise that it had been about to topple onto your laptop, and would surely have ruined your precious device. You expect to be met with a grave look when you peer over at Timmy, but the look on his face is a pleased one. Maybe even bordering on smug.

“Finally I got my turn to save your ass,” and now you really want to wipe that smug grin off his face. Instead you just groan, too tired to think, and let your head rest on your folded arms on top of the table.

“C’mon, let’s just go back to bed. If you don’t want to ruin your sleep schedule, I promise I’ll wake you up in two or three hours.

You think it over for a second.

“Fine, but only if you promise to bring me a second breakfast in bed later.”

[timotheetea]

Could you write a post "50 unusual facts about Timmy"?

Don’t know how ‘unusual’ these are, but here’s 50 facts/quotes:1. “To love someone is to become them, and that love is an act of empathy, and that to take on your [lover’s] name in an expression of love is to totally reveal yourself as a human being and to offer yourself as a compassionate lover and friend.” 2. “(Happiness is) that feeling of flow. I think you can accomplish flow doing anything, it can be stapling papers, it can be playing sport, it can be the way you drive a car. If you can achieve that kind of ow where it becomes mindless, sensory and instinctive – that’s happiness.” 3. He grew up in hell’s kitchen, Manhattan, 43th and ninth, in a 33-floor high-rise so close to the clouds that ”it felt like we were literally floating in the sky”. & “I grew up in this melting-pot of cultures in the 33th floor of a tower floating above the sky, and I felt like it let me be free to find myself.”4. Favourite actor: mainly he mentions Joaquin Phoenix, but one time he said it was Louis de Funès. 5. “This is the dream, to be at the forefront of any film… I get to be a part of something that is beyond any sort of acclaim, affecting people on a visceral level when they see it, or at least some members.”6. What does love feel like to you? “The definition changes by the day, and what I can think of today as far as what love is to me would be having the security to receive warmth.” 7. “I was in college for a little bit and it felt like a clear decision to not [finish]; it was scary because I didn’t want to rob myself of growing as a human. But it’s been the exact opposite: going from set to set, working with creative, open people, having mentors rooting for you. There’s education within that, I guess.”8. His father’s side of the family is from La Chambon-sur-Lignon and saint-Agréve in France 9. “I want to pursue other things creatively, not so much music, but definitely writing and directing. I’m going to be very, very patient about that. The dream as an actor is to be economically self-sustainable and what this year has been is beyond that now. I’m getting a creative license of sorts.” 10. How did your parents meet? “My father, who’s French, was on a business trip in New York for Le Parisien. He’s a journalist, who now works for the United Nations. My mom was a dancer, now she’s in the real estate business. I can’t tell if my sister and I feel more French or American. I stayed in New York while she’s been living in Paris for quite some time. I spent every summer in France until I was 15 years old, but New York is my home.”11. What do you read in your spare time, do you prefer essays or literature? “Literature. I’m currently obsessed with Russian authors. Tolstoj, but also Dostoevskij. Crime and Punishment is a gut punch.” Also he said he’s read Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Homer, and Lord Byron, books mentioned in Prodigal Son. About reading: “Maybe the deep narratives that comprise most books are really daunting.” 12. He’s really good at improv 13. Timothée Chalamet’s high-school drama teacher Mr. Shifman on the naturalism of his acting: “He just happened to come to my room for the callback audition, and I remember his audition because I gave him the highest score I’ve ever given a kid auditioning.” 14. He mentioned James White as his favourite film. 15. He watched interstellar 12 times.16. Blue Valentine is his favourite romantic film. 17. “I saw The Dark Knight when I was thirteen, before I applied for LaGuardia, and Heath Ledger made me want to act” in another interview: “When I was 12 years old I petitioned my mom and grandma to see Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight with me. I left that theatre a changed man. Heath Ledger’s performance in that film was visceral and viral to me. And I now had the acting bug.”18. His favourite reality tv show is I love New York 19. He said La La Land was so inspiring, it felt like an ode to his grandma’s life. 20. He wanted to be a famous footballer growing up. “I am French, after all.” & “I was a coach at a soccer camp in France. I coached 6 to 10-year-olds when I was around 13. I was good at it, but the pay was not acting money.” 21. Up until he was 15 he went to France in the summers to visit his father’s side of the family. 22. His sister Pauline is 26. 23. His great great grandparents were jewish immigrants who were fleeing prosecution. 24. His mom once called their family a ‘nuclear family’. 25. He’s got a turtle named ertle. 26. His parents have been married 32 years - I believe their anniversary is on October 13th. 27. His grandfather is Harold Flender, who wrote Rescue in Denmark28. He went to the elementary school ps87 29. He went to J.H.S. 54 Brooker T. Washington on the upper west side which he called a “miserable, miserable 3 years” 30. His old roommates were Giullian Gioiello and Kristina Reyes 31. He once said about his high school LaGuardia: “Truthfully I went because I thought there’d be less academic work!” 32. “I naturally have a me-against-the-world mentality and I’ve been fighting it since I was 13. It’s felt like it’s only gotten me in lonely, angry places.”33. He studied Cultural Anthropology at Columbia University. He said about Columbia: “I felt like I was another product on the factory line.“ 34. He used to live in the Bronx on the Grand Concourse 35. “Fourteen was the worst year of my life. Sixteen was the worst year of my life. Seventeen, 18 and 19 were pretty bad, too, but 15 was excellent for me. I know what the “special, beautiful room in hell” means. It just speaks to John’s genius in seeing the world through the eyes of this age.” 36. “LaGuardia was my Thomas More in that I was surrounded by kids like me who were outgoing and obnoxious and needed a ton of attention.” 37. Did you have support from your parents, Timothée? “Oh yeah, I’ve been very lucky. One article [about Prodigal Son] started by saying that I had a “challenging upbringing in Hell’s Kitchen,” and my mom was incensed. She said, “What are you talking about? You had babysitters!” But we all have our issues. Whatever genetic loading I had put me through trials and tribulations I almost didn’t make it to the other side of, but I’m here now. I wouldn’t be able to do a play like [Podrigal Son] without having gone through that.” 38. “The most humbling part of these experiences is realizing how ladder-oriented it is,” he said. “And that’s only fair. It’s a testament to gatekeeping, I guess, and you do have to earn your stripes.”39. “Columbia takes a wholehearted academic commitment that I think I have in me, but it was just not where my mind was at the time.” 40. About Prodigal Son: “It’s been kicking my ass, but in the best way possible,” he says of the run, with its eight- and even nine-show weeks. “There are some days when I go home, especially during the rehearsal process, and I’m like, ‘Wow, this is really hard,’ but the lower the lows, the higher the highs. When I have those days where I feel like everything clicks, it’s the most exceptional feeling in the world. The ups and downs are crazy, but it feels like every muscle is being used on stage.” & “I have to get up on the nights when I feel like I don’t have it in me and find a way to wrench it out of me and get through the nights when it feels amazing. The story is so emotional and it hits so close to home. I was living in the Bronx last year and I was losing my mind, and I get to exercise those demons every night.”41. “I’ve always had that smaller guy’s mentality, and I fought my entire life and tried to assimilate more, but [acting in Prodigal Son] is like a mental exercise that I get to be this guy and people are watching. I feel like it serves a purpose and my me-vs.-the-world mentality is not just dragging me down like I usually feel. In fact, it’s being put to some good use.”42. “I’m going to enjoy every second of this—it sounds cheesy, but I think of myself as an actor third, an artist second, and a fan first,” he said. “But I have genuine fear of having the inability to replicate this moment again.”43. Similarities with Elio: “An openness to life—to the universe, a yearning for deep experiences, hopefully.”43. “New York in the summer is my favorite time of the year; there’s something special about it.”44. About borrowing Call Me By Your Name (the book) at a college library: “I didn’t give it back for a year and I had a fine of $100, so before this movie gave me a career it took money from me.”45. “When you’re suffering, or grieving, the only thing you can control or protect yourself from is the added layer of shame, beating yourself up over heartbreak, or forbidding yourself the pain.”46. “No sexuality, just love.”47. Do you have a secret party trick?“A capacity for self-loathing.”48. He auditioned for Spider Pan, “I read twice and I left sweating in a total panic.”49. “Now that my foot is in the door, I’m locked and loaded. I’m focused.” 50. “The villain in Call Me by Your Name is the tragedy of love—what seems to be part of the deal you sign with someone when you experience an amazing time with them.” 

[statisticalwonder]

Wedding day imagine

GUYS KEEP THE REQUESTS COMING IM LOVING ALL OF THEM AND IM TRYING TO FINISH THEM ALL TONIGHT SO ILL HAVE AN EMPTY INBOX FOR MORE :)))~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~“Y,n! Next time I see you, you’re going to be walking down an aisle wearing a white dress, and I’ll be waiting at the end to marry you. Next fucking time I see you! I can’t process this.” Timothée was such a goofball: he was jumping up and down, he couldn’t sit still on the edge of your bed, that grin of his taking up his entire face, his eyes watered with happiness. “You’re such a fucking mess, T,” you giggled at him, the only time you had seen him even a little close to this state of ecstasy was when he got nominated for his first oscar, and that was four years ago. That’s not to say he was never happy, he was always grinning, but he had never been this happy. “You’re laughing now, but tomorrow I won’t be the only one tearing up, I guarantee it,” he said with a smirk on his face, eyes still watering. “Is that a challenge, Chalamet? I’m going to win, you have been warned.” You loved to mess with him, and you knew this would cause a reaction. He jumped on you, causing you to fall back onto the bed and started to tickle you all over your stomach and your sides because he knew that’s where you’re most ticklish. You laughed and laughed and laughed and he laughed at your funny squeal that always happened when he tickled you, then he kissed you all over the spots where he had poked you in your side.

“For real though, I never thought I would find someone like you,” he said finally, once you were thoroughly exhausted and your voice was sore from screeching. You answered by placing a big kiss on his hand, since he was still straddling you from the tickle fight and you couldn’t reach his cheek. He knew you meant the same, and he also knew he was much more sentimental and romantic than you, so that was a good response.

He looked over at the clock on the bedside table sadly, slowly got up off you, and gave you a long, forlorn gaze. “I wish I didn’t have to say it, y/n, but we’ll have to finish this conversation tomorrow. I should probably go…we both need our beauty sleep, tomorrow’s a big day.” He was right, you had a long day ahead of you tomorrow and it was best if you parted ways until pictures and the ceremony.

It was weird getting ready for bed without Timmy next to you like usual. For the past four years you had brushed your teeth, put on your pajamas, got into bed next to each other, and spooned until you both fell asleep. You knew it would be like that until one of you died, so it was weird to have a break, but your parents insisted you keep the tradition that a couple doesn’t see each other on the day of their wedding. You got into bed quietly and cuddled with a pillow as a stand in for Timmy. The pillow was nowhere near as warm as Timmy, and it couldn’t wrap itself around you and or tangle its legs with yours, it couldn’t whisper inaudible things into your hair, it couldn’t tell you it loved you, but it was the best you had at the moment. It was harder to go to sleep without the quiet sounds of his chest rising and falling, the little snores that sometimes slipped out of his mouth, how he would sometimes talk in his sleep and you would respond if you were awake.

You went over how the next day would go in your head, it was going to be long. You would wake up at 9:00 or 9:30, then go get your hair/makeup done, put your dress on, then meet Timmy and your families/close friends for pictures. It would be the first time he saw you in your wedding dress and you knew he would love it, but you were still anxious. Your mind went blank after that, so many thoughts were competing for your attention and you couldn’t focus on anything except that you would be married to the love of your life tomorrow.

You woke up the next morning with Pauline gently shaking you awake, the bright sunlight streaming in through the window, her hair already done, but not her makeup. “Y/n, you’ll finally be my sister today, it took long enough! Also you were supposed to be at the hair salon ten minutes ago, but whatever it’s your wedding. How are you feeling? It’s a big day!” Pauline was always so sweet and you were grateful she woke you up instead of your mom, because she would’ve stressed you out with her talk about always being on time. “I-I don’t even really know what to say. I have no words, I can’t wait,” you stuttered out. Pauline laughed sweetly, then remembered you were behind schedule, “ok, let’s get you ready for the best day of your and Timmy’s life.” Timothée and Pauline shared so many mannerisms and ways of saying things, it made you smile and your eyes water with joy. “Damn,” you muttered under your breath. “What, y/n? Is there something wrong?” “No,” you laughed, wiping your eyes, “go tell Timmy I lost his challenge, he won, I teared up.” “You guys are so cute. I’ll tell him once you get some breakfast.”

The next few hours were such a blur, you ate, you smiled so much you thought your face would fall off, people put your hair up, you got your makeup on, you put on your dress, you felt like a million bucks. Finally it was time to meet Timmy for pictures, you were so nervous about what his reaction would be to your dress.

You saw him standing across the lawn, talking to his mom, Nicole, his hands fidgeting with nerves. She was facing you, so when she saw you approaching her jaw dropped and she made a little noise. You felt amazing, and apparently you looked amazing, too. “Mom, what?” Timmy hadn’t turned around yet, so he was very confused by her expression. You reached him and grabbed him around the waist. “Y/n, oh my god, there is nothing I could say that would describe how magical you look. Before I saw you I planned on saying how beautiful you looked, but this is beyond beautiful, nobody has ever looked this good. Ever. I’m so lucky, you don’t know how much I love you. Not just for your beauty, though, you’re so smart, funny, and talented.” He was crying for real now, but he had turned around so he could hug you, too. He said all that into your ear so nobody else could hear, a secret just for you two.

The pictures flew by, so different from the countless red carpets and photoshoots you’d done with Timmy in the past. This felt so natural, there was nothing staged, it was just you, Timmy, and your families. If a guest on their way to the wedding walked by you got a picture with them, but the whole thing was really lowkey, just like the wedding. You knew you had to do the wedding somewhere remote and where nobody would find out, so you went to your favorite place in Upstate New York that you and Timmy had gone together countless times, a private lake that your family owned. Because the lake was in the family, nobody but guests knew or were able to come to the lake, which made everything much more secret and romantic.

The rest of the day was gone within a blink of your eye, Timmy said his vows, you said yours, you both cried and kissed, then you went to the reception to thank everyone for coming. After everyone left you and Timmy had one last dance, he leaned into you and whispered into your hair, “we don’t have to pretend anymore, we’re married, I’ve been waiting for this moment for longer than you know.” You hugged him a tighter, and swayed to the music.

[aggimaginary]

The Grinch 2: Happy New Year Capter 2-Agatha Galido

Somewhere in the big universe, the Earth is one of the planets of the Solar system, and our home planet or home world. The world of the Whos is quite different from our world, the world where we lived in. The world of the Whos is probably from other solar system or other galaxy. It's like a dimension. And in Earth, in the country called Philippines, there was a woman named Agatha Galido, a.k.a Aggie.

This human girl is born with large insect-like fairy wings and is the only human around with such wings. Ever since she was a child, she was always loved by her family and relatives, but never have good friends in school because of being so different, making her feel miserable and friendless. When she was almost old enough, her father invented an interdimensional remote control that can open portals or gateways to many different worlds in the whole universe. Using this remote, Aggie made lots of friends that are different and unique species than her. Some are also humans like her, some are animals, and some are like cartoon and animated characters from TV. Some are also super heroes and magical creatures that weren't exist in Aggie's world. When she started making friends, like when she was 10 years old, Aggie created a team, called the Imaginary team, a.k.a. the I team, that can spread love and friendship in different worlds in the universe, and showed to everyone how friendship is important to everyone and everywhere. Since Aggie made almost more than 200 friends, she created groups according to the respective worlds where her friends lived. Since there are 36 groups, she also divided the whole team into three division; Main, Honorary, and Back-up. 22 groups in Main, 10 groups in Honorary, and 4 groups in Back-up. Aggie became the leader of the whole I team, despite that her teammates themselves are her mentors. Aggie and her team became the new owners the most power elements in the universe; The Elements of Friendship. Each group owned just one element. Some group shared the same element, according to which they represented. As the leader, Aggie represented the leading element: Imagination. Because of her position, Aggie have to look out for her team, and she loved them all like a family.

When she was 21, Aggie received a family heirloom that was originally owned by a dark god of the Land of the Forgotten in Mexico, and it's called a wand staff. Aggie's family heirloom was protected and kept by five families; Galido, Borra, Resano, Mondejar and Besares. Aggie belongs to these five families, with Galido (at her father's side) and Mondejar (at her mother's side) as her major families. Even before she received a wand staff with different magical powers, Aggie already developed super and magical powers from her powerful friends by giving her half of theirs, like sharing powers. The wand staff has been a magical heirloom of the five families, required with a spell book that contained the histories of the previous owners and magical spells they have written in it.

For many years that the I team kept organizing, the team had increased their status that each group was called by their respective element to fix a friendship problem that is related to their element either in their respective world or in other worlds that they never visited just yet. So, Aggie asked her dad to make more interdimensional remote controls for her friends, but it's quite impossible since the remote needed more energy and power for the remotes. Since the team has magical wishing members, like fairy godparents, Aggie wished for a interdimensional remote control for each group, and the leader/s are in-charge to hold the remote.

Since it was so many years, Agatha Galido is now 43, got married with one of her friends from another world and her third-in-command, which is was a red bird named Red, when she was 24, got three children and one egg. Ever since she has the power to transform into any form, she was an albino bird when she got pregnant with her 4th child, and laid an egg. The egg was five days old, so it won't be hatch so soon. Today, after Christmas, Aggie was having a great resting time with her team and family in their secret I team HQ under her and her parents' house. Aggie's parents are not as old as we thought, so they are still alive. They didn't mind of their daughter taking care of her team and family under their house. Aggie and only the Main division were sitting on the meeting table that shaped like a big letter 'I'.

"Wow, that was the best Christmas party ever we had last night," Lily said.

"I know! I can't wait for another party next year," Blueberry Pie jumped up in excitement.

"That's too soon, Blueberry," Cubby chuckled.

"I thought this is called 'Hearth's Warming day'" Gemstone thought.

"Christmas, Hearth's Warming, they're the same," Poof corrected.

"Everyone's always excited for Christmas, including us," Jet added.

"It's a good thing you two didn't ruin Christmas again this year," Saltor scoffed.

"Because Jet and I learned a lesson that we should respect our holiday; Halloween," Jack Skellington stated proudly.

"Well, at least you survived. I almost cried when I thought you two were dead!" Aggie cried out loid.

"You're 13 that time. You always cry," Sally Skellington reminded.

"Thank you for reminding me," Aggie replied sarcastically.

"It's quite shame that Mom, Dad, Phineaks and Israbellra didn't spend Christmas with us," Marie Flynn said.

"Yeah, neither do Uncle Flerk and Ferb," Maren Flynnto added.

"Yeah, well, your parents had to go to back to your world and to Switzerland for the award ceremony next week," Aggie explained. "And even Ferb and Flerk are still in Camp David. Those guys are very busy. At least Vanessa, Varessa, Thomas and Themas attended."

Marie sighed dreamingly, "Yeah, Thomas is so sweet."

Frantis almost barfed in disgust, "Uh, you do know you guys are cousins, right?"

"Umm, their fathers are stepbrothers. So, their not related," Tootie corrected.

"I just still don't get why Basil wasn't in a mood to celebrate Christmas," Jerry said. "Sure, he attended, but he doesn't seem to have fun with us."

"You already know detectives, like Sherlock Holmes, Basil was not in a mood for Christmas joy. He's always been like that for years," Pilair replied.

"So, any plans for New Year? We only have five days left," Skenda asked.

"We can have colorful fireworks," Roo suggested.

"Fireworks can be nice, but no fountain, no firecracker, no harmful firework stuff. They might blow your fingers," Leia warned.

"She's right. We don't want to have fireworks incident in the team, just like what happened to Aggie's neighbors last year," Chet agreed.

"Yeah, lots of fingers blew up last year," Smantha added.

"We can use my Pixie dust Snow ball Firework Shower spell. That's safe," Aggie lifted her wand staff.

"How about the candles? You know, the sparking ones and colorful flame ones." Fred Figglehorn inquired.

"As long as they don't explode," Azul was concerned.

"But, where can we celebrate?" Lola questioned.

"Grandpa Leo and Grandma Bernadette invited us upstairs," Amaranth Red raised her hand. "The backyard is so wide, so there's enough space for all of us to watch the fireworks in New Year's Eve."

"Close enough. We didn't celebrate New Year with Mr. and Mrs. Galido for a while," Blossom nodded.

"Okay, so we already know where we will celebrate and what stuff we will use, any more ideas?" Baby Bugs asked as he listed in the what-to-do list about New Year plans.

"How about a song for New Year?" Chyna got up from her chair, and then, pointed Aggie, "And Aggie will sing!"

"What? Why me?" Aggie asked.

"Come on, Aggie, you haven't sing a song every New Year for years. You only counted on us. It's your turn," Miley explained.

Aggie sighed, "Fine. I'll try my best. I'll just find a perfect song."

"Great! All we have to do is to invite the Honorary and Back-up divisions here for the New Year," Perry said.

Just then, Crimson Red noticed his mother's element on her I team ID began to glow.

"Mom! Your element! It's glowing!" He pointed out loud.

The whole Main I team heard the half-bird as Aggie looked down at her ID where she saw her element glowing and blinking.

"Sweet Celestia, Aggie!" Rarity gasped. "You were called. This means there is a friendship problem!"

"How come there could be friendship problem after Christmas and before New Year?!" Red growled.

"Everyone has problems all the time, Red. Including you before you became a hero," Stella recalled.

"Yeah. Thanks for telling me that, sis," The red angry bird rolled his eyes.

"Kowalski, Kelda, activate the map!" Skipper commanded.

The tall penguin and his adoptive guardian or wife saluted as they pushed two buttons together, and the table showed the hologram of the Earth.

"Alright then, where the friendship problem could be in my world?" Aggie looked up at the Earth hologram.

"Let's see here," Kowalski swiped the hologram of the Earth to rotate it and find a friendship problem, "So, there's no friendship problem in your world, Aggie."

"How about all of our worlds?" Captain Jake inquired.

When Dr. Blowhole and Dr. Blest typed something on the keyboards, the hologram showed a live footage of every world that the I team lived.

"Okay. The New York City and Central Park Zoo is okay. No friendship problem," said the reformed villain dolphin.

"Not even in Halloween town," Samuel checked on the footage of his and his family's home world or home town.

"The Hundred Acre woods is always peaceful," Rabbit said.

"Fairy world and Dimmsdale is fine," Timmy added.

"No monsters, crime or even quarreling happened in Townsville," Bubbles said about her world.

"Bird Island is still peaceful and happy community," Hal told them.

"Webster High and Z-tech is still good," Fletcher looked at the footage of his and his two friends' old and current schools.

"Our world is okay," Tom announced.

"So was ours, and Kat and Kit's home planet," Coop gritted his teeth, not wanting to mention his former enemy's home planet.

"Our world seems good too," Oggy said.

"So was Danville, O.W.C.A., and other countries," Pelry concluded.

"Including the 2nd dimension," Dofelia added.

"Pixie Hollow and the Winter Woods are still balance," Tinker Bell stated.

"Neverland is still clean," Skully scanned the footage of Neverland.

"Acme Acres in the future has no trouble," Petunia announced.

"Not even at our home," Baby Petunia added.

"Hollywood is still shining," Oliver made a thumb-up.

"My home town is also good," Fred Figglehorn nodded.

"No Devinos attacking in our town," Serio pointed.

"The Do-Jo and our world weren't affected by the master," Yin said.

Her brother, Yang, cleared his throat, "Umm, it's because there's no night master anymore, remember?"

"Shut up," the pink rabbit was annoyed by the blue one.

"Everything's fine all of the planets we visited years ago," Han mentioned.

"Starlight City has no trouble at all," Skidmark said.

"Equestria is also good," Twilight looked at the footage of Equestria.

"Did you guys check the worlds of the Honorary and the Back-up?" Aggie asked.

"Yeah, the chickens, the Kids Next Door, the herd of sheep, Pasadena, Transylvania, Zootopia, Mousedom, the garden gnomes in their world, Stork Mountain, and cars world are all okay and safe. No friendship problem at all," Clover Scarlet answered her mother.

"The Danger HQ, Smurf Village, the Lands of the Remembered and Forgotten, and the ocean where Marlin, Nemo and Dory lived are in peace too," Roy added.

"If none of our worlds have any friendship problems, then we have to search the whole universe," Aggie suggested as the whole team nodded in agreement.

When the hologram map extended, showing the hologram of the whole universe, there was blinking white light on another galaxy, just beside Aggie's home galaxy.

"There it is!" She pointed.

The hologram zoomed on the blinking white light, and showed a town with lots of houses.

"Wow, that's a pretty cool town," Bubs commented.

"And snowy!" Crimson Red exclaimed, then frowned that there's no snow in the Philippines, "Lucky!"

"Oh well, I think I have to go dimension travel again," Aggie stretched her hands and arms.

"You mean, right now?" Piglet inquired, "But what about the plans and New Year?"

"I'm sorry, Piglet, but this is very important." Aggie apologized. "But this is very important."

"Are you not going to celebrate New Year with us, Aunt Mom?" Rebecca made a sad face.

"Of course I'm going to celebrate with all of you guys. Don't worry. When I'm done with the friendship problem, I'll be home in no time."

"That's right, Rebecca," Ruby patted her daughter's head. "Your step-mom is going to spend New year with all of us. She does this every year."

"Thanks, Rubs. Now, I have to bring my wand staff and my interdimensional remote control." Before Aggie gathered her things, she was interrupted for a moment.

"Just a moment, sis," Joseline halted her, "It's snowy in that world and the town. You need to wear your winter clothes."

"Don't worry, I got this," With a smirk on her face, Aggie wore a gray jacket and warm gloves to prepare herself before going to that world where she was called.

"Is that all you have to wear?" Lumpy asked.

"It was never snow here in the Philippines, so this is all I've got. Don't worry. I'll warm myself when I get there." When Aggie opened the portal with her remote, she turned her wand staff into a sled.

"Since when Xibalba taught you how to turn your wand staff into a sled?" Periwinkle inquired suspiciously.

"He didn't. I made the spell myself. Hey, I'm the owner of the wand staff now, so it's my turn to create my own spell," Aggie explained to her wing sister, "Oh, that reminds me…" She grabbed a backpack, then her big spell book, and put it inside of her bag. "Can't use my wand staff without a little guidance from the spell book!"

"Are you sure you have to do this?" Red looked at his human wife in concern and worry.

"I have to, Red," Aggie answered with a sigh. "It's my duty."

Her bird husband exhaled in defeat. Red truly respected Aggie's duty. Then, he pecked her on the lips, "Just be careful out there."

"I will. Thanks," Aggie kissed him back and waved at her team and family, "Bye guys!"

"See you soon, Aggie." Bomb waved.

"Bye, Mom. I love you!" Amaranth Red did a flying kiss gesture.

"Be safe," Wands added.

Aggie waved one last time before she stepped into the portal until her body disappeared as the portal closed.

When the whole Main I team was left behind, they still felt sad for their leader and best friend that a friendship problem called her just before New Year.

"Man, this is a rough New Year for Aggie," Matilda said.

"I know. I feel bad for her, too," Screwball added, worried for her adoptive aunt.

[peeterparkr]

perennial;tom holland|prologue

sequel to perfidy. 

Prologue: daffodils 

↳ flower meaning: new beginnings. 

story summary: After the war, Tom let the flowers die of thirst, Harry decided to water dry flowers and Timmy never stopped taking care of his. But flowers speak for us, flowers have meanings. And like flowers, maybe you’ll keep on blooming, it’ll be up to you if you decide to wither. And it’ll be up to you what flower you end up choosing.  

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: a bit sad, just a little. 

word count: 3k

first chapter.  perfidy (final chapter) ( series masterlist) 

perennial masterlist.

wanna be tagged?

Hello, finally, the long awaited prologue is here. I hope you like this as much as you liked perfidy. Hope I can live up to your expectations! I’m super excited for this! Let’s bloom. 

To make a flower last, you have to water them, provide them with enough sunlight, and love. There are flowers that last, flowers that don’t. There are flowers that bloom again, there are flowers that even in times of diversity, they manage to get up and in their colors. There are flowers that only bloom once. 

Perennial flowers tend to keep blooming, for short times, then fall dormant the rest of the year.

Flowers, like humans, die of thirst. 

But humans, like flowers, can bloom again. 

You hadn’t, you wouldn’t. Not now. 

The usual thing after a breakup is to feel lost, cold. Everyone tells you to keep yourself busy, to reach out for people, ignore social media, change your surroundings. Keep yourself distracted, go out with friends. 

Start a new life. Bloom again. 

In other breakups it had been easy, you had cried a few days. You had pitied yourself and listened to sad music. Watched sad movies. You remember going out with your best friend to parties, movies, park, arcades. You remember shielding on your studying, your photography, your writing. You kept yourself busy.

Keep yourself busy. That’s what everyone tells you. Re-start your life. You should go to a new beginning. Keep yourself busy? Bloom again? 

How were you supposed to do that? You had died of thirst.  You had technically no job now, none of your friends wanted to speak to you. You didn’t want to write. You didn’t want to go out. 

How?

What were you supposed to do? How pathetic. 

How were you supposed to when you were the one who had wrecked your relationship? 

You wondered what would’ve happened if you’d told him sooner about it, if things had been different. Would you be in his arms? 

You needed to call your friends.

You didn’t want to do that, really. What friends, really? 

Timmy? Sam? You couldn’t call them. 

Charlie and Danielle? You didn’t want to. 

Emily? You were never close with her. 

Harry? No, not Harry. You were very angry at him. 

Tom? 

Tom. 

He was the only one you wanted to call. But he never was a friend. And well… He wouldn’t answer. And why would he? 

And why would you call him? What would you tell him if he answered? 

You should; though. 

After that day, you were seeing his face everywhere. You knew it would come. You thought you had initially imagined Tom after the kiss. You thought it had been your imagination, as if your mind was playing a trick.

But it hurt to think you could’ve built something so beautiful. Timmy had asked you why you still loved Tom. 

Why wouldn’t you? 

There was still so much love waiting for Tom. In the little time you’ve spent together, you had learned that kissing comes in many different forms and emotions. You learned a new superpower he had, how to take away minutes from time so he could make it stop. You learned that you could really run out of breath from laughing, and you learned that it is possible to share one only breath. You learned that he could take away your breath with only one single glance, and you had learned how to lie. 

White lies, to help you both sneak into places where you could only bump smiles to one another. You had learned how to forgive him. 

You had forgiven him. But he would never forgive you.

And maybe that was what made this one breakup more difficult. Knowing that you had killed a flower. 

Loneliness is a curse, a very horrible curse. You didn’t want to call your brother because you didn’t want to hear another lecture over what you did was wrong but how it wasn’t your fault and then trying to stop him from coming for Tom. 

You hated Harry right now. 

Because, you were confused. Very, very confused. Why wouldn’t you? 

Harry had kissed you. 

Tom had seen it. 

And Timmy was currently calling you. You ignored the phone call. And thought about it, how stupid this felt. Confusion wasn’t new. And your mind was shooting you with flashbacks, just like it had done with Tom. 

But now, Harry? Harry? But this wasn’t right. Harry was a friend, right? 

Yes, he was a friend. 

Harry. 

There hadn’t been any sparks. No. Because you loved Tom. 

You really loved him.

But…? 

No. 

But then there was that thought in your mind again. How did you feel about Harry? 

Right now, angry. Yes. Because for now you didn’t care about you, you cared about Emma. Emma was a friend you’d found along the way. And really, you missed her. 

You’d lost too many people in the sake of a few days. 

Best you could do now was to pretend you’re okay. For your parents, for your brother. For yourself. 

Damn, but this was so stupid. How the hell had Harry done this so selfishly? 

You really couldn’t call him out on selfishness. But you were angry. Because you were so vain. Naive and vain if that makes any sense, at all. 

And you knew that the letter you’d sent to Tom could have… calmed things. Now they would seem like your words were empty. 

It should’ve lasted longer, you knew it wouldn’t, but it should’ve. Tom. Tom was who you loved. 

You’ve given him one letter, you wouldn’t write another one. There wasn’t much to be said now. You had spent most days building up an excuse or a plan to forget about him. 

You had cleaned out your room, removing every Polaroid from your wall, because now that you didn’t have Tom’s it felt empty. And maybe that was what opened your eyes, you had to cleanse yourself, because all your life you had had that question. 

“What if?” 

Tom had been that constant what if in your mind and that’s how it turned out. Big disaster. And then you hated it, again. It was meant to always end up that way. 

How many chances had you left behind because you had been clung to Tom? How many romances had passed by because you had ingrained in Tom? Because of that stupid thought. 

Loneliness is a curse, yes, but it’s also a blessing. Because you realized it. And it had been good that you’d gotten rid of everything and given it to him, you couldn’t keep holding on to something that would lead you nowhere, you couldn’t keep holding on to something that would end up in another disaster. Though you knew it was him and always him and you’ll always keep waiting for him to show up… you couldn’t keep up with that. 

Even now, you were waiting for him to show up with yellow flowers, but he wouldn’t. He wouldn't show up. He wouldn’t call and it was stupid to be waiting for one call. 

And though in your walls it had seemed easy to take off, the real story wasn’t. How many things had you let go off because of Tom? 

He’d robbed you of every chance of being happy. He was the reason why you’d probably always cancelled plans for him, and he had been the reason you’d said no to a marriage proposal that would have probably been the ideal ending for you. 

But it was Tom. Always. Always. Always Tom. And no matter how many times you’ve tried, it kept coming back to you. Every time, you always stopped yourself from taking new chances, of beginning again because there was always that thought in your head, that Tom and you were meant to be. You were so stubborn, like a tired child who is throwing a tantrum for a popsicle. 

But no, you saw it again, in the most poetic and romantic way, the way it could work for a story. Everlasting. Never ending. Infinite.

That’s so dumb. 

It was different now, and you’d always been crying for him. There you were now, again crying for him, hugging a pillow staring at the empty walls. You shouldn’t have left that day, you should’ve explained it to him. Tell him you hadn’t been the one to start the kiss but at the moment, you saw it as a loss. 

Had he read the letter that you’ve written a whole night? 

Maybe. Maybe not. 

He probably was crying too. You know Tom was a silent crier, something you’ve learned among the years. You knew he probably would cry when he was in the shower or brushing his teeth, or just as he was about to go to bed. 

You were very much alike. But you knew he probably wasn’t crying right now. You knew you probably were the only one laying down on the bed crying. 

Had this been all inspired by that stupid child that had first fallen in love with him? 

Everything was… lost. 

You’d touched rock bottom. That meant you could only go up from now. 

Maybe it had never been supposed to last forever. And you knew you had known it from the first time his sight turned tender, this wouldn’t last. Just like flowers, you would wither. And you had. 

And although New York was a bliss to remember, you wanted to forget it because it hurt. 

People say that when you break up with someone you should start again. Maybe you would. 

And the sun always comes out after the storm. The brightest of dawns would come after the darkest nights. 

It would come. 

Like a flower you’d bloom again, eventually. But you wondered if any flowers were able to bloom after the coldest of  winter frosts. 

A change. 

But there you were still ignoring Timmy’s call. 

Life had presented a chance. And you were wondering if you should take it. 

It would be stupid if you didn’t. It wasn’t… The opportunity of a lifetime. Maybe it was But it was a chance for a change. 

A big change. 

Would you let another chance go because you were still attached to Tom? Would you let go another life because of Tom? 

Cherry had called. She was moving to London. Cherry. Your cousin, around your age, few months older, pretty, very pretty and cheerful. Her mother, your mom’s sister, had moved to LA to follow her aspiring acting career but ended up opening a flower shop. 

She was quite a character. And she had had a proposition which seemed like a crazy fever dream when she said it:

 “I got offered a job in London! Can I go crash your place for a bit? Let’s be roomies! Or we could switch places! Come to LA, and go after your dream, sweetie! Come help with the flower shop!” 

That was… An idea. Crazy idea. 

Cherry was your cousin, you wouldn’t be alone if she came. That part of the plan you were kind of okay with. 

But leaving?

You had told Timmy about it. Because you had to face that, too. Timmy was leaving. Timmy, and you couldn’t be more thankful, had been making sure you didn’t feel lonely. You didn’t know why he had been so kind to you. But Timmy was leaving. 

He had told you a few days before, how he had kept it as a secret for a while. He’d be leaving for LA. Hollywood. 

And he wouldn’t go alone. 

Emma. Emma was going with him, too. They were starting again. A new life. Chasing their dreams, going for the stars. 

Hollywood. 

So there you had been, wondering if you should tell Cherry to come and live with you. Have some company, not be alone. Maybe she’d make friends and then you could tag along with them. 

Or switch places

“What would you lose?” Timmy had asked you. “Maybe it’s the change you need.” 

“Dunno. Leaving home to a stranger?” 

“It’s your cousin,” Timmy said. 

You shrugged. “I don’t like people invading my space.” 

“That’s just an excuse for you not to go.” 

“Why would I leave?” 

“You need a new start, y/n,” Timmy said. 

“But I can re-start here,” you pointed out. “Besides, working at a flower shop.” 

“Then tell her to come,” Timmy said. 

“But I can’t live with… someone,” you chuckled.

“You can, you’re just giving excuses to stay alone.” 

You stayed quiet. “I am alone.”

“I don’t want you to be.” 

You sighed. 

“You could tag along with us, too.” 

“Emma wouldn’t like that.” 

“She’s forgiven you,” Timmy said. 

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Timmy had assured you. “She understood it wasn’t your fault.” 

You didn’t Answer anything. 

“What would you lose if you came to LA, too?” 

You would lose your chance to see if Tom ever showed up at your door again.

“Is there anything you could lose?” He asked again. 

Was there? 

And you had called Emma. And it had been difficult, complicated, and weird at the beginning. You apologized again. Because Emma really didn’t deserve to be there. 

She told you she’d given back the ring. You had told her about the kiss… That was not your place to tell her and you would be risking everything by telling her. But you needed a new beginning and this involved telling things. Even if it risked ending things earlier.

But she’d understood. No, it wasn’t easy. And it was a conversation that lasted a couple of days. And at least that had kept you busy. Trying to mend that relationship. And maybe Emma needed a friend, too. Maybe Emma really needed someone too. And of course, she was angry. 

She didn’t blame you, though. She believed you. And Emma knew it, then. You told her the whole story, beginning to end. Script and memories and explanations, of everything. You even told her about your feelings for Harry and how angry you were. You told her that yes, you had felt something, but friendship was more important. 

You didn’t have that friendship anymore, though.

She understood, more than anything. Because maybe it’s a universal thing. To not know how to feel. To be confused. The heartbreak. To feel like you’re not going to bloom again. 

But she saw you, going through the pain that she felt. And you listened to her, and you cursed every damned time the damned script came up. But you understood each other. Because both of you didn’t understand it. And she’d seen your story, and she didn’t blame you. Because sometimes you give everything nd it’s not enough. And maybe that’s why she’d pitied you, because she’d also given everything, but Harry had broken her once, and Tom, Tom had broken you once, twice, three times. And no, it hadn’t been easy. But maybe she needed the other side of the story or maybe she just needed a girl friend. 

Just like you needed one. 

Because Emma, Emma was lonely too. 

Honestly the conversation with her had ended up in the incredible conclusion that all of us women get to eventually: Men are trash.

“Honestly, you know what we should do?” You had said. 

“What?” 

“Let’s go to Greece, sleep with three men—“

“But—“ Emma frowned.

“Hear me out,” you chuckled. “Make sure we get knocked up—“

“Are you insane?” Emma cackled.

“I haven’t finished,” you laughed. “Open up a nice Greek hotel, wait 20 years until our respective daughters get hitched and wait for them to invite their three possible dads to the wedding. And we can have fun singing ABBA songs.”

“Is that—“

“The plot to Mamma Mia? Absolutely.” 

And maybe you should’ve gone to Greece. Honestly you were considering it. But it was soothing, having a friend. It was nice. You had both talked on the floor, crying over two damned Holland’s. You’d start a club. And it was the beginning of an old friendship. It’s nice to have a friend.

So of course you were bummed she was leaving.

“Let’s go to Hollywood, y/n,” Emma said. 

Would you take Cherry’s offer? 

You wouldn’t. That was only stupid. And though Hollywood was talking to you and you aspired to follow the big dream. The big screen called you, and you were probably blinded by every light that was begging you to go, you knew you’d only reach out for a dream that had tumbled you down. The dream that had withered you. And really, to go without any job? And go work in a flower shop… You loved flowers, but it wasn’t… You didn’t know anything about them, just that yellow flowers made you cry, that Timmy gave you peonies and that lavenders meant calm. 

And going to LA without any chance…. No. 

Because Timmy had one. And Emma had one.

You didn’t. 

So you’d received your cousin. A roommate.  Which was… Different. She’d asked about your room, how lonely it seemed. First thing she noticed was the yellow flowers you had, from the scratch bouquets you’d made for Tom. 

“Yellow tulips? And yellow roses? Hopeless love and forgiveness? Daffodils? New beginning. Who did you hurt, cousin?” 

You didn’t tell her anything about your life, not really. Except you wanted to start a new one. You told her that you were going through a tough time and you wanted a new beginning. 

“Like a daffodil, then,” Cherry said. 

You didn’t answer. 

“Like daffodils, those pretty yellow flowers, you had them here.” 

“Yellow… flowers?” 

“Yes, perennial flowers, they bloom each year in spring, just after the coldest of winter frost,” she grinned.  “They mean new beginnings, we should get some for the house, I believe that flowers help us heal, sometimes we don’t get it but the flowers we choose are normally the ones that say what we want,” she nodded. “You know, maybe it’s cause I’ve been in that flower shop my whole life, but I really do believe that flowers speak for us, so let’s get you some daffodils, get you a new beginning.” 

You weren’t a daffodil. But you really were going through a winter frost. At least you felt as cold. But would you bloom? 

“Yeah, like a daffodil.” 

And life really wanted you to bloom again it seemed, and it really wanted you to have a new beginning. Life then again, gave your other chance.the big opportunity. Life having mercy. 

Because there had been another call, too. A few days after Cherry arrived. 

“Y/N, hello dear, why haven’t you been answering my calls?” 

“I’m sorry, Alessandra, I’ve been… busy.” 

“You have a job already?” She asked. 

“I—“

“Because if you do I need you to quit right now.” 

“What?”

“Because they’re producing your script.”

“I thought they didn’t—“

“I sent it to another studio, we are going to Hollywood, darling.” 

And maybe this was your chance to bloom again, like a daffodil. And you had tried to call him, Tom. 

And he never came, until it was too late. 

And you’d asked Cherry that if he ever came, to give him daffodils. And he had, and he had brought heleniums, evening primroses and chamomiles. 

“Yellow flowers, too,” Cherry had told you as soon as you’d landed on LAX. “Funny thing, cousin, he didn’t even know what flowers he’d chosen, can you believe it! But once again the flowers spoke for him, he brought heleniums which mean let me comfort you, and chamomiles, oh chamomiles which mean he admires your courage and the lovely evening primroses, which mean he’s unsteady, but will learn to love you.” 

“Did you give him the daffodils?” 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s funny isn’t it? You both chose yellow.” 

“Yeah, funny.” 

“The other guy, he brought daisies.” 

“Other guy?” You asked. 

“Yeah, Harry, he said that was his name.” 

Harry had brought you flowers. 

“It’s funny isn’t it, the guy in the morning who helped you pack-- He brought peonies.” 

“Harry?” 

“No, your friend bought peonies,” Cherry pushed. “Those mean romance, huh.” 

“No, but… Harry came?” 

“Yeah, yeah he brought daisies,” Cherry said. “Isn’t it funny, though, the three of them brought perennial flowers.” 

“What even-” 

“Perennial flowers, which means they were dormant but that eventually, they'll bloom again.”

But who would bloom? 

first chapter. perfidy (final chapter) ( series masterlist)

perennial masterlist.

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[thesundaycocktail]

Confessions of a Soccer coach

Life is stressful. I think we would all agree on that. How stressful it is depends on the individual and there are degrees of stress. Deep breaths sometimes work... playing video games takes your mind off things and even a simple walk (preferably without the four legged freeloader) will keep you a better perspective on life. A reason to chill, take stock and understand ‘all is ok’ with the world. The kids are healthy, the wife is happy and you passed the really hard part in the video game. But sometimes, rarely, stress gets to you and you think... ok.. ‘I need to unwind when i get home, sit up and have a weekday martini.... and when I am really giddy about stress, the amount of olives in the martini equals the amount of stress. It’s like a barometer. The Martini barometer I call it.. And nothing spells stress than coaching underage sports. And my particular crutch... is soccer.

First and foremost... the players. Never in my life do you see the individuality of a human at its best than bringing twenty 11 year old boys onto an astro pitch on a chilly Monday evening for soccer training. Some come running... others are running away and some don’t run no matter how many times you tell him...until you say ‘times up’ and then they sprint to the parent. You got the parents who say ‘Timmy loves it’ but when the mother leaves, Timmy is off to his faraway land deep into the clouds and he is trying to bring the goalie and the defensive midfielder with him. You try to reel them back to planet earth and just when they land, you got another kid transforming into some kind of robot. Balls are flying... kids are running aimlessly and our official time has not even begun yet. But like all coaches, you know the tricks or the threats that work and you reel them in after 3 minutes you have them into stretches and sprints and after 10 minutes you have them into a routine. You promise a match, splash out the cones and before you know it you have 18 kids (out of 20) following a simple passing drill. Timmy is in la-la land and Gregory is on the fifth minute of putting on his bib.

The training goes well, routine, fun.. the matches on the other hand, fall into the category of battles. Its like game of thrones with your players, the opposition players, the referee, the other coaches and the parents. And this is where my martini barometer comes in handy. There is no time for deep breaths. A three week period where we played on three consecutive weekends explains my theory. Einstein would be proud.

Week 1:

It’s a foggy sunday morning. It’s an away game. I walking with my son, a winger, to the pitch. It’s 25 minutes to kick off.

“Hi Coach” A car pulls up beside me. It is Lorraine, Billy’s Mom, one of the full backs.

“Morning Lorraine” – she cuts me off

“Where do I park?” she quickly asks

I pause. “Did you read the text – about the train station” Proper coach protocol is that the home team’s coach will send out directions, pin numbers, parking info to the away coach to let them know on any difficulties that might occur for game day. The away team coach (in this case.. me) sends it off to the parents.

“Yes I got it” Lorraine responds “did you park there?”

“No.. a spot opened beforehand up so I took it..” I answer with confidence.

“Will there be spaces??…. Why didn’t you park there.” I am getting bit hot around the collar now. I take a deep breath. Stress is creeping. One extra olive in my Martini this evening.

“I’m from New York” I begin, “you see a spot you take it…. I’m sure the Train Station is fine” I reassure her (though assuring Lorraine is tough). Before she can answer I quickly say. “Would you like me to take Billy with me”. I finish with a smile.

“Can you handle him?”. She asks. Considering I will be looking after him for the next hour and 15 minutes and have done an hour a week with Billy for the last three years. “I think I’ll manage”. Billy hops out of the car and joins our two man crew. Also it’s a good idea to have as many players with you before the match, least you know their body is there and you have enough to play.

Lorraine is staring out the windshield pondering her next move. I was about to wave when she turns to me. “I’ll text Barbara about the parking” I figure it’s best to move along.

30 minutes before the match is probably the most stressful. Counting olive time. You can prepare beforehand, have your lineup set out but some things are just out of your control. When you are the away team, you do less. You just make sure you are there on time before the kids arrive (Bobby K is always there before me) and you count heads,- do warm-ups and meet the other coaches and ref. It’s all cordial at this stage. Few smiles, maybe a handshake, a gentleman’s agreement where in this division (the 8th), make sure no one gets hurt, lets keep it honest and enjoy ourselves. Give the kids a run-out, hope for a win and a fair match. And pay the ref. He/She is not doing it for free. Smile at the ref before you berate him/her later. Our goalie just arrived. Thank god... followed by a stream of 12 year olds. There is seven now, two in the horizon and before you know it, you have enough, everyone has arrived and you have finally have the time to exhale, wait... our forward is hobbling.... ok he is just hopping for some reason. Breathe, breathe. The match has yet to begin.

Week 2:

The home matches take a different tune. You are hosting, so you have to.. ahem.. host. No cocktails here, just water. Just making sure everyone knows where to be at, what time and make sure the pitch is in proper order. Looking for dog s—t, setting up cones and corner flags and making sure everything is parallel and perpendicular. Proper order. I am on my knees getting out jerseys for the players when somebody approaches from the distance. I look over and it’s Billy running at 100%. He stops 15 yards away. Something is wrong!

“Coach” He is panting…. “My mom wants to know where to park”. I look past him. You can see the cars in the distance, some pulling out.. some parking. “Where is she??” I ask, my tone has gone down a bit. “She’s in the parking lot…” Billy answers, still panting. Why is he panting, his stamina is better than some of the other players. “Should she park there or on the street”.. I look behind him… a bit dumbfounded. “Just park in the lot” I answer…. He seems satisfied with this answer… he turns and runs back.. until 10 yards later… he turns again “What if there are no spots in the lot?” he yells. I sigh deeply. My son comes over to me, I ignore him and respond to Billy “Tell her to then park in the street” My martini is looking extra stiff this evening. Might do a third olive. Billy is gone to Lorraine. I finish taking out the jerseys and hand one to my son and another to Harold who wants an even number. Of course, all I see is 7, 9, 3. My son has a 2. I yank it off him, apologise and hand it to Harold who is now happy. I hand my son an 11. It’s his birthday number. He is happy with the outcome. I zip up the bag and place it on the sideline. Kids are showing up. First 4, then 8, then enough. Exhale again. I organize the kids in a circle while the assistant coach chats with the other team. Some kids are asking me if they can play forward. This one kid Reggie registered a week ago… I told him he’ll get his chance. I hate lying to kids… but Reggie passed the ball backwards and sideways in the last training session at full pace. None of the players or coaches have ever seen that before. We all stopped in silence as this particular ‘pass’ went sailing onto the other training session. Reggie is paid up for the year so he stays.

Week 3:

The third match is another away match, a local derby. A friendly. I am happy with this one. I can give other players some more playing time including master pass backward Reggie. In his defense, he has some boot, just his sense of direction is a bit off. Its only been three weeks, so there is learning curve for Reggie. I am taking the equipment from the back of my car when another car pulls up beside me. My back is turned, I don’t know who it is but the car is kept running while the door opens and a person gets out. “Coach” It’s Lorraine, Billy’s Mom.. again. “Are you parking here?” My car is parked in an almost completely empty parking lot. My son is even looking dumbfounded. “Yes” I nod as I say this. She smiles at me and turns around and calls in the distant. “Coach says its ok to park here” I peer over and see two other cars pull up beside her. Funny, did not see them like 5 seconds ago. Is that Helen..., did she even bring her son??

I am feeling a bit like David Koresh here, I am just going to continue with the task at hand. I was not planning on a drink tonight but it starting to look like one. Soccer Balls in hand, son by my side… soon joined by Billy. Life is good. You don’t mind Billy, you can tell he plays Rugby. Bit too rough on our pitch but is not afraid to put his body out there. He should have been yellow carded a few times but he always remains on the pitch. God Bless him. It’s a night match so everything feels a bit primetime. Its a Friday night too. People are happy for the weekend. Bit colder than usual but we manage.

We win this one 3-2. Goals are all over the place. Stopped counting the offsides. At this age, the kids are still learning. The coaches are refereeing so everything is a bit more liberal. My son gets an assist as he comes all the way from his full back position to get a cross in (with a deflection) and falls into the strikers foot. In it goes, up goes my hands, my son runs around like he scores while everyone is hugging Michael the actual scorer. You laugh at it all. The other coach is screaming (who screams at a friendly), I put back on my game face and continue on.

“Back to positions” I yell.

At the end it’s all a nice affair. Both teams promise to play again ‘This time on your turf’ and ‘We’ll come to you’ and ‘Man you got some player there’ are the phrases you come out with. Cars are pulling out, the lights dim and you pat your son as he gets into the car. He is tired and is happy to sit in the back. You throw your last bits into the front and just before you get in, Lorraine comes waltzing over.

‘Coach’ you shut the door, you can give her proper attention now. ‘The match in two weeks time (it’s an away match)…..is it the Sunday or a Saturday.’ ‘Saturday, this time’ I respond.

She has the car keys in her hand. She looks up, she ponders her next move. I am scanning my brain for parking availability, where in fact I have no clue. I wait.

She begins to open her mouth ‘Oh and thanks again’….’I really appreciate it’.

She slowly turns and walks back to her car with Billy already sitting shotgun, nose full into a comic book. I smile as I start the car.

‘Dad’ he calls from the back ‘Can we get some Ice Cream on the way home’

It’s cold and a bit wet and my martini is now gone out the window. ‘Sure thing son… you played well today’

The lights go off as we pull away.

[haloloading204]

Al B Sure Nite And Day Download

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In Effect ModeStudio album by ReleasedMay 3, 1988RecordedFall 1986 - Spring 1988 Unique Recording Studios New York City, New YorkGenreNew jack swing(1)Length38:25LabelUptown, Warner Bros.ProducerAl B. Sure!, Kyle West, Teddy RileyAl B. Sure! chronology

In Effect Mode (1988)Private Times..and the Whole 9! (1990)

In Effect Mode is the debut album by Al B. Sure!. It was released on May 3, 1988 on Uptown Records with distribution handled by Warner Bros. Records. It was one of two albums by Sure! that was released under Uptown that were not issued under its parent company MCA Records.

Background and recording(edit)

Sure! got his initial start when he performed at the 1987 Sony Innovators Award, an annual talent showcase that awarded people who showed promising talent.(2) Music producer Quincy Jones handpicked Sure! as the first winner of the contest. Warner Bros. Vice President of black music Benny Medina offered Sure! a recording contract to record his debut.

Sure! got his start in the music industry singing background vocals on Heavy D. Dmg mori seiki usa sales incminew. & The Boyz' 1987 debut Living Large. He appeared on the song 'Dedication' as well as the singles 'Don't You Know' and 'Moneyearnin' Mount Vernon' due to being childhood friends with group member Edward 'Eddie F' Ferrell.(3) That friendship lead to him meeting Andre Harrell, who brought Sure! into the fold at his newly established imprint Uptown Records.(3)

Sure! initially wanted to make his debut as a rapper, but later decided to focus on R&B after listening to the music his cousin Kyle West was making.(4) As a result, he enlisted West as the co-producer for his debut album. Sure! and West wrote virtually all the songs together, save for their cover of Lori Lieberman's 'Killing Me Softly' - which was popularized by singer Roberta Flack - and 'If I'm Not Your Lover'.

https://haloloading204.tumblr.com/post/654766689152647168/hemingwaymr-beckers-classroom. Becker's Classroom: Indian Camp: File Size: 31 kb: File Type: doc: Download File. The Big Two Hearted River: File Size: 84 kb: File Type: doc: Download File. Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.

West recalls recording In Effect Mode as lacking direction because neither he nor Sure! had any idea what they were doing.(3) Because of Sure!'s last minute change from rapping to singing, he had to learn how to write songs and melodies in a short period of time.(3) Within the span of six months, he made the transition from being a rapper to being a singer.

The album's first single 'Nite and Day' was the first song recorded for In Effect Mode. West wrote and recorded the music in January 1987, but decided to abandon it when he couldn't compose any lyrics for the song. Over a month later, Sure! heard the music and wrote only a chorus for the song, but had yet to write any verses.(3) By the time they went to the recording studio, Sure! had completed the song. Despite having yet to record an album, everyone in the studio felt the song was going to be a huge hit.(3)

Producer Teddy Riley was called in to give the album some direction. He wasn't around long enough to oversee it due to being called in to work on Keith Sweat's debut Make It Last Forever.(3) He produced two songs for In Effect Mode: 'If I'm Not Your Lover' and 'You Can Call Me Crazy', however only 'If I'm Not Your Lover' made the final track listing.(3) 'You Can Call Me Crazy' was later included on Guy's self-titled debut with Timmy Gatling's lead vocals and Sure! contributing uncredited background vocals.(5)

Al B Sure Oooh This Love Is So Download - Engcoaching

Reception(edit)

Professional ratingsReview scoresSourceRatingAllmusic(6)The Village VoiceB+(7)

Released on May 3, 1988 as a joint venture between Uptown Records and Warner Bros. Download free sql setsbitsoftsoftsc. Records, it was a huge success, having made it to #20 on the Billboard 200 and #1 on the Top R&B/Hip-Hop Albums Chart (where it remained for seven weeks). Produced with his cousin Kyle West, five singles were released from the album, all of which made it to the Billboard singles charts: 'Nite and Day,' 'Off on Your Own (Girl),' 'Rescue Me,' 'If I'm Not Your Lover' and 'Killing Me Softly.' A French-language version of 'Night and Day' ('Nuit et Jour') was also recorded, but it only appeared on the 12-inch maxi-single of the original.

Track listing(edit)

All songs are written and composed by Al B. Sure! and Kyle West, except where noted

'Nite and Day' – 4:03

'Oooh, This Love is So' – 4:39

'Killing Me Softly' (Norman Gimbel, Charles Fox) – 4:51

'Naturally Mine' – 4:14

'Rescue Me' – 3:57

'Off on Your Own (Girl)' – 4:09

'If I'm Not Your Lover' (Al B. Sure!, Timmy Gatling) – 4:07

'Just a Taste of Lovin' – 4:22

'Noche y Dia' – 4:03

Personnel(edit)

Les Davis, Teddy Riley – guitars

Kyle West – keyboards, keyboard programming

Al B. Sure! – lead and backing vocals, horn arrangements, drum programming, recording engineer, mixing

Rodney Grant – keyboards, keyboard programming

Michelle Amar – speech and spoken word

Tabitha Brace, Sharon Harris, Terri Robinson, Todd Auston – backing vocals

Michelle Boissierre – translation (English to Spanish)

Al B Sure Songs

Technical

Ken Collins, Roey Shamir – recording engineers, mixing

Benny Medina, Andre Harrell – executive producers

Carlton Batts – mastering

Kav Deluxe – design

Calvin Lowery – art direction

Deano Mueller – photography

Charts(edit)

Chart (1988)Peak positionBillboard Pop Albums(8)20BillboardTop Soul Albums(8)1

Singles(edit)

YearSingleChart positions(9)US PopUS R&B1988'Nite and Day'71'Off on Your Own (Girl)'451'Rescue Me'—3'Killing Me Softly'80141989'If I'm Not Your Lover'—2

See also(edit)

External links(edit)

References(edit)

^Eddy, Chuck (March 2011). 'Essentials: R&B Rubs Hip-Hop the Right Way and the New Jack Swing Era Is Born'. Spin. New York: 84. Retrieved March 15, 2013.

^'Sony Global - Sony History Chapter19 Non-Japanese Directors Join the Board'. info. sony.net. Retrieved 2014-02-19.

^ abcdefghAl B. Sure! co-producer Kyle West recalls the making of In Effect Mode (1988) | Return To The Classics

^Williams, Chris. 'Al B. Sure! co-producer Kyle West recalls the making of In Effect Mode (1988) | Return To The Classics'. interview. soulculture.co.uk. Retrieved 2014-02-09.

^'Class Of '88: GUY'. interview. allhiphop.com. Retrieved 5/6/2014.Check date values in: |accessdate= (help)

^Theakston, Rob. Al B. Sure!: In Effect Mode > Review at AllMusic. Retrieved 27 September 2011.

^Village Voice review

^ ab'Al B. Sure! US albums chart history'. allmusic.com. Retrieved 2011-09-27.

^'Al B. Sure! US singles chart history'. allmusic.com. Retrieved 2011-09-27.

Retrieved from 'https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=In_Effect_Mode&oldid=1000693713'

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Nite and Day' is a song made 'in the style of' Al B. Sure! / The duration of this file is 4:03.

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Lady Bird discussion and review

So before I start just some background about me, I’ve lived in a few places in my life. I was born in Baltimore, lived in NYC until 7th grade, and now live in Sacramento California. This is not a cmbyn post so bear with me if that's why you follow my account. Also this will be longer than my cmbyn review so I’m not really expecting that much response to it lol.

- I am fortunate that I got to see the movie at Tower Theater(our local independent theater) the night it came out in Sacramento. I had plans to go out with my friends that night but they fell through so I thought, why not go see a movie by yourself. The theater was completely full of people, many of which I knew as my friends’ relatives or even acquaintances from school. Despite Sacramento being home to almost half a million people, it really does feel like a small town. This was the only time I had ever seen the theater that packed before. The movie at one point shows a clip of Tower theater and I pretty much just cried from there to the end of the movie. The movie starts out with a quote from Joan Didion, “anyone who talks about California hedonism has never spent a Christmas in Sacramento”. This got giant laughs each time I’ve seen the movie in Sacramento and hardly any reaction when I saw the movie in NYC. This is kind of a recurring theme throughout the movie, that the movie feels like a special little gift to Sacramentens. I’ve never experienced a piece of art so specific to me or my city.

- Saorise is the perfect representation of so many Sacramento teenagers I know, and her friends Jenna is also a perfect representation of the other side of the spectrum. The school the girls go to is based on a local Catholic school, St. Francis. The detail of saying Jenna had a starter house in the forties(a very nice neighborhood close to midtown) was so so funny to people living in my city. Along with that her saying she never wants to leave Sacramento and wants to raise her children here is so true to so many families and girls I know. Everyone who’s a teenager in Sacramento either wants to escape to the east coast or San Fransisco, or they never want to leave. I can say I know multiple Ladybirds’ and Jennas.

- I can say that Ladybird/Christine is a very relatable character for me, I often want to go back to NYC and want to “live through something”. I almost feel sometimes like I’m living a life that wasn’t really meant for me(this is really angsty and personal compared to my cmbyn review lol) and I think Saorise in general perfectly reflected what it feels like to almost be at odds with yourself. The whole idea that you don’t know where your home is until you leave it is very universal and definitely shown in a unique and fresh way in this movie. I love that there is no real villain in this movie. Everyone is flawed whether it be Ladybird, Kyle, Jenna or Ladybird’s parents, no one is truly one thing.

OK next onto performances: I’m gonna talk about Saorise and Timmy mostly here

- You guys already know that I have to start with Timmy. I had never seen Timmy in anything before seeing him in Lady Bird. I knew he was going to play Elio in cmbyn and didn’t even realize that until after seeing Lady Bird. I genuinely think that he is one of the most versatile actors I’ve ever seen on screen. Kyle in this movie is so funny and such an asshole and Timmy is SO convincing. Whether he be talking about on participating in the economy through bartering or telling Ladybird that he’s not a virgin and hasn’t lied in two years, everything he says feels perfectly acted and performed with just the right amount of comedy and seriousness. I was kind of worried that Timmy wasn’t going to be nice enough to play Elio after seeing the movie, but obviously, I watched like one interview with him and became obsessed.

- Next, Saorise. WOW, she is incredible in this movie. I’ve seen it four times now and her performance hasn’t ceased to amaze me every time. The whole relationship between Ladybird and her family, especially her mother, is so well executed by Saorise. I definitely can relate to them constantly fighting and making up, and having miscommunication about what they want for themselves and each other. Saorise also does a perfect Sacramento accent, like genuinely perfect. I have seen so many coming of age movies in my life and have never felt quite as emotional as I do when I watch this movie. Saorise really reflects what it feels like to be in between two lives and knowing that you want to leave, but also loving your hometown. She is just so perfect in this movie, I really believe she deserves the Oscar for best actress. I saw Brooklyn a few years ago and felt the same way about her acting, she is one of the best actresses of our generation imo.

- To finish this section I just felt like I needed to comment on Beanie and Lauries’ performances. Beanie is so sweet and Julie. From her audition for the play to asking Jenna what the emergency was that interrupted her having sex at some dudes lake house, she is such a lovely actress to watch on screen. Her and Saorise crying in the car to Crash Into Me is so perfectly hilarious and heartbreaking at the same time I really love her acting and portrayal of Julie. OK it’s really hard for me to put into words how amazing Laurie is in this movie. She is really really perfect. Whether it be her and Saorise’s character getting in a screaming fight or her crying in the car at the airport, she really does a beautiful job acting out a very complex character without it ever feeling off-color.

So these are my last little comments and thoughts on the movie:

- Greta did an incredible job with this movie. While I adore Call Me by Your Name I’m kinda rooting for this to win best picture. The attention to detail, the directing, and the performances really made it stand out to me. One of my favorite little things she included was that we get very similar shots of Saorise the first time we see her walk through Sacramento and New York; I think they even play the same music in these two scenes! To kind of conclude this review/essay/rant, I just am overflowing with love for this movie. It is so rare to see such an honest portrayal of the teenage experience. I adore that Christine never has her whole life revolving around a dude and that it’s ok that none of the boys she dates are the right match for her. I think in general putting focus on a mother-daughter relationship immediately makes the movie more relatable to a wider audience and feels more honest. I felt so emotional by the end of the movie, especially when Ladybird is painting over her walls and paints over the boys’ names. The whole last ten minutes are so beautiful and moving. I love this movie and would strongly recommend to everyone that they should go see it ASAP.

As always, if you want to discuss this movie or other stuff like cmbyn with me, either put stuff in my asks or message me!! Lmk if you guys like this kind of post and if you got this far, thanks for reading:).