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hairmetal666 · 8 months ago

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Eddie stands at the bar, sipping at the whisky in his glass, eyes flickering over the crush of bodies and dark mahogany. He's at a premier party at TIFF, doesn't remember what movie it's for, is supposed to "mingle" according to his agent. And sure, he's charismatic, got a big personality and a loud mouth, but he's not good at networking; resents having to perform when he's not playing a role. Resents it more that he's an Oscar nominated actor, that his work doesn't stand for itself.

And then there's the Steve Harrington of it all. Heartthrob. America's Sweetheart. The boy next door. He's across the room, deep in conversation, but his eyes--they keep finding Eddie, scanning him with unmistakable heat.

They starred in a movie called Dying on the Pass. Played life-long best friends who became elite chefs and opened a restaurant together. The movie follows the dissolution of their friendship as the stresses of pursuing a Michelin Star drive them apart. It was a critical and commercial hit, cue awards noms, and offers pouring in, and--

Steve Harrington is his bed.

They promised, when filming wrapped. They swore it was the last time. They promised--

They basically shared a hotel room during awards season, woke up tangled together every morning.

They spent a torrid weekend in Atlanta after Steve wrapped on a Netflix action movie.

Six months after, they had a quick, furious fuck in the bathroom at a club in London.

Dangerous, stupid, but no one caught them. And here Steve is in Toronto, surrounded by press, staring at Eddie like he wants to eat him.

Eddie tries to ignore it. But every time their eyes meet, warmth pools low in his abdomen, and he wants.

They meet up eventually, pose for a couple of pictures, Eddie trying to ignore the way his skin tingles everywhere that Steve touches. Steve slings an arm around his waist, lets it linger.

After, Eddie goes out for a smoke, the patio blissfully deserted. He's half way through his cigarette when Steve steps out the sliding door, wrapping his hands in Eddie's hair, pulling him into a kiss. The cigarette drops as he grips onto the other man, a whimper slipping from his lips.

He should stop this, they're outside, anyone could see, and Steve isn't out--isn't--he's straight to the entire world, the straightest man alive. And Eddie, he's open about his preferences, identifies as queer, though lately he's been more interested in men--in one man, specifically-- and Steve isn't out, isn't ready to be and--

"Come back to my room?" Steve asks. Their mouths are still pressed together.

"Uh-huh," Eddie answers.

Steve whispers his room number before disappearing back inside. They're in the same hotel, on the same floor, like the universe wants them to keep hooking up. But Steve is being reckless.

Eddie goes to Steve that night with every intention of telling him they need to stop, to slow down, that they're going to get caught and he knows Steve isn't ready, but he doesn't. He doesn't that night and he doesn't two months later when they bump into each other in Venice, or four months after that in New York, or--or --or

It's dangerous, impulsive, too many close calls for them to keep it up and then--and then he's at a house party in the hills, an industry thing, the host is a wannabe big shot producer trying to get in good with the Hollywood elite. Steve is out of town. In Europe filming or maybe Australia for some event or--

Striding through the party, eyes locked on Eddie, and they're in a hallway, in a hallway where anyone could see them, but Steve is kissing him. They're kissing and it's rough and possessive and it stings.

Steve pushes him through double-doors, to the room at their backs, and Eddie wants to protest, to remind him they don't know if it's empty. But Steve is tugging the tie out of Eddie's hair, digging this hands into the now loose curls, and Eddie whines, lets himself be lead.

He's pushed against a table, and in the weak light from the windows, he realizes they're in the dining room. Steve grinds against him, muttering, "missed you so much, baby. God, it's been too long. Need you so bad."

Eddie moans, shifting to press more against Steve. "Missed you too, sweetheart, fuck."

They're kissing and Eddie's high on it, on Steve, can't get enough.

There's a loud burst of laughter outside the door, and reality smashes back into focus.

"Stop," he whispers to Steve.

Steve does in an instant, stepping back. Even in the darkness, Eddie sees the confusion and hurt mingling in the squint of his eyes, his light frown.

"Steve we--this is dangerous. There are people everywhere. Anyone could come in. There's a TMZ guy here, and we--need to be careful."

"Fuck," Steve breathes. "Eddie I--fuck." He presses his hand over his mouth, eyes squeezed shut. "I can't get enough of you, man. Whenever I see you I just--I don't think--I see you and I want you so bad it hurts. Once every few months isn't enough. Hookups aren't enough. And I know that's not what we agreed to, and--"

"Steve," Eddie gently cuts him off. "I'm crazy about you. It hasn't been hookups for me for--" ever, it had never been, but he shakes his head instead of saying that. "But we've been reckless, sweetheart, and I don't want to see you hurt."

"It's not fair to you, though, right? Hiding and sneaking around with me."

"You need time, Steve. You deserve to come out on your terms, when you're ready. And if that means we're not public for a while, then we're not."

"What if I'm never ready?" He whispers. It breaks Eddie's heart, but it's a fair question for a man who got famous as an angelic child star in a series of fantasy-adventure movies before playing a quarterback with a heart-of-gold on the CW for seven seasons. He's always kept up a squeaky clean image, never in trouble, name rarely in the tabloids.

"Then we'll deal with it together."

"Okay," Steve whispers. A smile spreads slow across his face. "I'd like that."

Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are seen around town together often. Getting lunch, at parties, shopping. In an interview Steve says that Eddie's his best friend, they do everything together. There's speculation online, of course, but it's pretty quiet. So, they go to premiers and award shows and events together.

A year goes by and it's easy, light, fun. They're in love.

Eddie's messing around on his guitar, not with any intent just for the joy of it. He's on the loveseat in the office of their apartment--their apartment. Steve is in the kitchen, he thinks, or puttering in the garden.

They haven't talked about Steve coming out; haven't needed to.

"Hey," Steve says from the doorway. Eddie jumps.

"Hey yourself."

"It's Bi Visibility day."

"Is it now?" He's not sure where this is going

"I want to come out."

He puts the guitar down. "You sure?"

Steve nods. He doesn't seem nervous, just calm and steady.

"How do you want to do it?"

He crosses the room, climbing onto Eddie's lap, making Eddie laugh. "Works for me." Eddie gives Steve's ass a playful squeeze.

They start kissing then, Steve snapping pics on his phone randomly as they make out.

Steve won't let Eddie peak as he crafts his Insta post, not until it's done and live for his 15 million followers.

The picture he picked, it's a soft kiss, mouths open but lips only just brushing, noses pressed together in a sweet little bump. But the thing about, the thing that makes Eddie's stomach swoop, is the way they're both smiling, the way it's obvious just how in love they are.

Steve's captioned it with the words "Witness Me" and the bi flag.

He pulls his boy into another kiss, says, "Hey,"

"Hmm?" Steve doesn't pull away.

"Wanna go be visibly bisexual with me in the bedroom?"

Steve hops off his lap, strides across the room, turning to flash Eddie a devious smile. "Thought you'd never ask."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #actors steve harrington and eddie munson #costars #hooking up #fluff #costars to lovers #idiots in love #feelings confession #coming out #bisexual steve harrington #it's not bi visibility day but i liked eddie using it as a come on #famous steve harrington #famous eddie munson #i don't totally know what this is

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neighbourscat · 1 month ago

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𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 , nicholas alexander chavez

THE ‘SAFE-KEEPING’ PREMIERE. paris , the red carpet

𓈒 ˙ ꪆৎ ꣹ ۫ 𖨂 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 . .. . actor!nicholas c. X superstar!new actress!black!fem!reader || second person ( you, yours, you’re ) + lowercase intended.

+ synopsis. from the moment you and nicholas chavez began working together, he’s been captivated by your presence. at first, it was just your talent and warmth that drew him in, but as the years passed . .. . it became something deeper, something more intimate.

+ cw. brief mentions of sex.

+ nali’s notes; this is very ‘kerry washington + tony goldwyn’ coded. downbad!chavez . .. . you & nicholas are never beating the couple allegations now. ); wordcount :: 3.5k+

+ to be played: skin tight, ravyn lenae & steve lacy.

THE ‘SAFE-KEEPING’ PREMIERE. paris , the red carpet

“how much are you going to miss her?”

“miss her?” the shuddering breath that leaves his nostrils narrowly frees the anxiety coursing through his veins like light itself. tonight was one of the biggest nights of his career and his dearest friend, his co-star, wasn’t in attendance yet. though he wasn’t entirely new to the entertainment industry, it wasn’t until recently that the pressures of hollywood started to weigh heavily. his co-star had been navigating this flashy world since late childhood and had became, without meaning to or fully realizing it, his comfort person. his anchor in the chaos of fame. and over time, being around this co-star became less about their roles in the film and more about simply needing to be near. “well . .. .” he began, shyness and nervousness lifting from his shoulders, “i won’t be missing her-“

the interviewer, with a microphone in her right hand and a miniature notebook in the left, tilted her head ever-so-slightly. a brow starting to raise and lips beginning to part, he got there first: “-because we’re still going to be in each other’s lives.” her expression softened immediately; brows falling, eyes widening, mouth turning up into a sweet smile, hand ( with miniature notebook ) held over her heart.

“is that right?” she asked then, her voice light — her heart still thumping from the cuteness of this man. he gave a firm nod, his anxiety and frustration quickly gave way to adoration and total worship. the interviewer noticed the change in his . .. . everything, at the mention and speaking of his co-star. she noticed the sparkle in his eyes, and maybe if it weren’t too loud, she would be able to hear the way his heart fluttered.

“i guess that, i-uh, would like to believe that she, y’know, wouldn’t want to leave me,” he said with a genuine smile. probably his first of the night. “but truly, uh, i’m not leaving her and i’m not letting her leave me.” the interviewer studied him intently, a knowing smirk creeping onto her face . .. . and as he spoke and spoke — his response shifting from enjoying the company of his co-star to how close they’ve gotten throughout the film project — she hoped the camera crew had been getting all of this.

it took a moment for him to stop himself — hands scrunching into fists at his sides. he lets them ball before opening back up. closing and opening again in nervous energy. he’s said too much. far too much. so much that he couldn’t even remember what he had just said and it’s only been three seconds or four. two maybe. his heart twisted in his chest, his mind only emphasizing two things: embarrassment and cringe.

“you love her?” the interviewer asked him.

and his heart — the one that was twisting in his chest — had skipped a beat. several. “love her?” he repeated, his voice laced with confusion and worry. “that is what you said. after saying it was, ‘an honour of a lifetime to play opposite her’, that you ‘love’ her,” she spoke into her microphone with confidence. she waved it toward him and waited. the camera crew behind her seemed to draw closer and the interviewer could see the tension in his body again, the regret in his eyes.

part of him wondered how she had remembered those bits, for he had been speaking for a while.

he mentally cursed himself for getting so lost in his thoughts. “no,” he breathed — he caught and corrected himself then: “i mean, yes. yeah. i did. i did say that-that i love her. which i do. a lot, but not like .. . y’know? not like that. because, no,” he tried to keep his tone casual and stable.

he paused, managing a small smile, “in a nice, y’know, platonic way. as a friend does-can, i guess. because someone can say that. that they love their friend,” he said quickly, almost too quickly. “ . .. . y’know what i mean . .. .?” his voice faded to a whisper. nothing but a hum.

a long pause.

he blinked up at a camera and then the other, and then his eyes found the interviewer’s again — her mouth moving but no words coming out. he wanted to have a seat. some cold water and a large container of popcorn. he did a poor job at playing that off and he knew that for a fact. just thinking about going home and going onto social media and watching that clip back made him cringe. fuck me.

the interviewer had stopped moving her lips, her microphone close to her chest. there was a shift in the air. a very real, undeniable shift in the air that had everyone turning their heads . .. . in your direction. every human within a fifty-foot radius seemed to be drawn to your presence like a magnet.

and that’s when the temperature had gone up a few uncomfortable notches. the custom-made designer suit he wore constricted; an encircling pressure. and it’s just so tight, that he reaches up and tugs at the collar of the dress-shirt he has underneath. he can’t breathe and he wants to get naked . .. . but he can’t. not right now anyway. because that would be highly inappropriate, and he’s better than that. he has the self-control.

“she looks amazing, right?”

he was holding his breath, daring not to speak as his eyes scanned the flood of bodies, afraid the interviewer would repeat her question or ask something else — something else along the lines of you — and demand his attention from finding you. the deafening loud ringing in his ears finally fell silent when he spotted you . .. . looking like an angel who’s come down to earth to grace the people. the waves of beauty, the elegance, and the warmth you radiated for all the world to see . .. . he had to be beside you. the desire to have you, to touch you and feel you against him . .. . was strong. to put it simply.

your stage name had turned into an incantation, a name that blazed and glittered on the overhead billboard. you winced instantly as the passenger’s door yawned open, being greeted with dazzling flashes from the multitude of various press and entertainment outlets waving their cameras and microphones in your face, the blobs of fans begging you to step over and to sign their notepads and movie posters. pleading and crying for you.

you carefully stepped onto the red carpet and made for the fan bleachers — the low, first-row section. you felt bad for those you couldn’t reach, but still, you waved and smiled and blew many, many kisses.

you touched the hand of a crying teenaged girl — you seized her pink gel pen, drew open her notepad to a blank page and hastily printed over the light blue lines: 𝙔/𝙉ᡣ𐭩. and you grabbed another notebook: 𝙔/𝙉ᡣ𐭩. and a clear phone case: 𝙔/𝙉ᡣ𐭩. and then someone’s right palm: 𝙔/𝙉ᡣ𐭩. and then a ‘safe-keeping’ movie poster: 𝙔/𝙉ᡣ𐭩. and then a poster from your 2019 world tour: 𝙔/𝙉ᡣ𐭩. you printed your name at least twelve more times before being redirected by security to continue the red carpet, find the journalists and photographers.

you shifted your attention and went as told — the anticipatory looks of reporters and bloggers, ready to barrage you with questions of this ‘steamy, hypnotic, scandalous’ thriller movie, working so closely to nicholas alexander chavez, and your future plans in the film industry ( if you’d settle in or if ‘safe-keeping’ is a one-and-done ): you are prepared for it. your brown, full eyes meet theirs.

“before i even get to my list of questions, can i just say . .. you look absolutely stunning in white,” said the interviewer, clear and passionate. you thanked the young woman, tone soft and with a smile — nearby hearts instantly melting. “what’s the story behind this look? why don’t we start there, yeah?”

“um .. . so ..” you stared down at yourself for a moment and then back up to the interviewer, lips barely touching the fuzz of her microphone cover, “it’s actually kind’a cute how this came to be-“ the interviewer started to laugh, ready to hear your story. “-earlier this year, nico ‘nd i were on the phone and he was sending me cat reels-like goin’ crazy; three at a time, right? ‘nd uhm, he sent this one of a black ‘nd white cat latched onto each other,” you told her, fingers teasing along the skin-tight white fabric. “i couldn’t turn him down, so while he thinks we’re dressed as two instagram cats, i take it as yin and yang; the feminine and the masculine, y’know? our characters, ‘eris and drew’, ‘nd how they really balance each other out.”

the interviewer, with a low chuckle, said: “not only is that cute, but you turning this look over into your own idea and symbolism is so great. gives married couple a teeny bit-“ your lips formed into a tight-lipped grin and you stared down at yourself once again. you considered for a moment, yeah, and refocused in a snap. “-i love the tiny detailing in the front there, for sure. and the hair pieces as well, so gorgeous.” again, you thanked the woman — missing all she had said before that. “i’d actually like to speak of ‘eris and drew’ for a bit. i attended the ‘early showing preview release’ yesterday evening, and .. gosh, the world is not ready for this.”

you chuckled, “no?”

“hell-to-the-nah. you and chavez on the big screen just . .. .” the interviewer was struck speechless, remembering last night’s early viewing. “ .. . you two just work. so nicely and so beautifully.” your heart swelled with love and pride. “that on-screen chemistry, the intensity and angst between ‘eris and drew’ throughout that entire film, i mean, i pretty much melted into my seat every-time you two appeared in the same frame. it was .. . unreal. it was totally insane . .. . but, really, i want to ask you, how?” you shifted your weight a bit, mentally putting together an answer. “how did you both get that to work-hmm?”

and the microphone was back inching in front of your lips, “having a good off-screen friendship helped. that, um . .. that made this entire project so much easier.” she could hear the sincerity in your tone, and it only fueled her enthusiasm. “i love nicholas chavez,” came out easily, smoothly, and warmly. “i love him so much, i do. ‘nd uhm, it’s been so much fun. this experience was so refreshing and something that i . .. actually really needed. he’s just so generous. and so gentle, and kind, and committed. so, yeah, it all just . .. . fell into place.”

eagerly, and with amusement in her eyes, “i’ve spoken with a few other news outlets today, those from the early viewing, and all of them mentioned the ‘one’ sex scene. it was incredibly hot and worth it.” inwardly, you sighed lowly. you weren’t sure why you hadn’t expected it to come up. but here you are again; picking through your brain for an appropriate answer. an answer that won’t get the internet going tonight. “you know where i’m going wit’ this, huh?” the interviewer found herself laughing . .. . while you stood there, nothing but a grin on your face. “anyways, talk to me about that bed-chemistry. you must’ve had a process for that, right? to keep it from being and looking so awkward, i’d assume.”

the interviewer waited patiently. you let out a breath and answered, “i mean .. no, there was no specific process for that-“ the interviewer’s shoulders seemed to droop, highly disappointed — she hoped that you hadn’t noticed. “-no specific headspace to jump into. i’m comfortable with nico, he’s comfortable with me, ‘nd yeah, we simply just . .. did what we were told. performed the choreography, and uh, looked good while doin’ it.” you finished with a warm laugh.

“how do you think it was for him? filming such an intimate scene with a global superstar such as yourself?”

you seemed to turn it over in your mind for a moment and she anxiously awaited your response.

“ya’know what? why don’t we ask mr. chavez?” you suggested through mock-laughs — you were done with this interviewer and had to continue on with your night.

“why don’t we, hmm? i need to see you two together again. quickly. where is he? where is our ‘drew’? where is that brilliant man?!” you shrugged with a low hum and looked over your shoulder, opting to entertain the search. no sign of a 6’foot-something mountain of a man with brown waves and a pretty pearly smile. “hey, when i catch him, i’ll drag him over,” you said playfully, already starting to step away.

“i’ll hold you to that!” the interviewer declared.

and amongst the loud demands and shutter clicks ringing out from cameras that captured you, y/n y/l/n, nicholas alexander chavez is squeezing through celebrities, vips, industry professionals, and other influential guests — apologizing as soon as he gets too close or just almost bumps into them — desperately trying to get you. you were in his line of sight, just a few more groups of bodies to excuse himself past and he’d have you.

and once he had the room to lengthen his stride, he did exactly that and reached your side. and all had been okay again. he found comfort and was at ease. “hi . ..” your attention was momentarily distracted as you felt a light kiss placed onto your bare shoulder. you stared up and relaxed when you had looked straight into nicholas’ brown eyes. your mind off of the interviewers and the photographers and instead on the heat coming off of his body.

there was no ignoring the voice in the back of his mind now — the one screaming at him, telling him that there had been something in your eyes. something so deep and similar as to when he looked at you or stood so close to you. something that flickered just below the surface. it had been there, no doubt, but finally he could feel it and he was certain of it. that something.

nicholas broke eye contact; raising his head and catching the interviewer’s gaze — he apologized lowly for interrupting. “no, no, i’d love for you to get in on this as well. y/n took me through her approach taken to composing those two ‘safe-keeping’ scores. her process and how she added even-more texture to your phenomenal characters; giving them wings and magic and all that good stuff, which again . .. . was absolutely beautiful to hear in the trailers. but i had asked her if she would do that again; write original music for a film or a show even, and she said ‘yes’.” nicholas smiled at that. “but then, i asked if she would be interested in starring in another film-ya’ girl here isn’t too keen on the idea. what do you think? would you wanna star in another film with her?” the interviewer lifted his microphone toward nicholas.

and without missing a beat: “yes. a million times yes.” short ‘n sweet. you and the interviewer shared a laugh. “don’t fall for that. that was a ‘for the cameras’ response, ‘kay?” nicholas bristled a little at your words, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at you — his chuckle fake and shaky, the cameras caught that too. “no, but-but seriously,” his voice: calm and easy, “i’d do it-this all over again if i could. the last four years.”

“mhmm,” you hummed, “what would you change?”

nicholas studied your face. “nothing. i wouldn’t change a thing.”

relief watched over nicholas as you smiled to yourself, trying to hide the way your cheeks rose — your hand patting the very center of his abdomen, gentle reassurance and acceptance further calming his nerves. “she’s everything to me,” he mumbled as he bent in to kiss just above cheekbone, his big hand gently resting on your lower back. you laughed with the interviewer again, mindlessly trying to shoo nicholas away. yet, his hand lingered on your backside for a beat longer as you chatted with the interviewer more, his fingers subconsciously tracing small circles on the sleek fabric of your dress.

after two more short questions from the interviewer, you stepped forward — nicholas remaining near, his palm still laid against the small of your back . .. . like he needed you ( which he did ), like if you were to leave his side for even a minute he’d collapse. the fit and contact was perfect and looked too good for the entertainment and gossip blogs.

“what would you tell your 12-year-old self?” the new interviewer asked you and nicholas — and you went first. and as you spoke, gesturing lightly with your hands, lost in your response to your younger self, nicholas moved even closer ( surprisingly, it was possible ) — just enough so that his hip could snap against yours. his hand slipped gently across your waist, his long fingers resting just above the curve of your hip, the touch subtle yet unmistakably intimate.

your breath hitched for the briefest moment, but you didn't stop talking, though there was a flicker of surprise in your eyes. you glanced up at him briefly, a soft smile playing on your lips, as if this touchiness was nothing more of a casual gesture; a friendly show of camaraderie for the cameras. but the way his hand had a mind of its own, massaging your hip in a subtle gesture of . .. . something.

the cameras caught every angle — the tender closeness, nicholas’ eyes so fixed on you with a look that wasn’t for the flashing bulbs but for you alone. his chest rose and fell a little deeper, and though he said nothing, the way his arm snaked around you felt possessive — like a silent claim, just barely testing the waters.

you finished your sentence, the interviewer not at all oblivious to nicholas’ never-once straying gaze. “and what about you nicholas?” nicholas stared down at the microphone, mind completely blank.

what was the question?

and in a soft voice, “what would you tell your 12-year-old self?” without thinking, his shoulders eased and he gave your hip four light pats, thanking you for saving him — as you always did. “well . .. .” nicholas began, giving the question some thought. “y’know, i’d tell him to eat more chicken-“

with a crooked smile on your face, “hmm?”

“eat more chicken,” he said again, his tone lighthearted — his hand riding up and down your side. “more chicken, more energy.” the interviewer’s eyes lit up, “fried, grilled, or baked?”

and you watched the exchange, listening to how the interviewer expressed his love for grilled chicken and then how nicholas spoke so passionately about baked chicken — nicholas had an entire backstory and extra details to support why baked chicken was ‘awesome’. for a few seconds, fried chicken had been the topic of discussion; how when he wasn’t feeling baked, he’d go for fried. and when he hadn’t been feeling baked or fried, he’d go for grilled. but ultimately, as he said, baked was his number one.

and when the interviewer waved you and nicholas along — “sorry,” he murmured, his voice low enough for only you to hear, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “he really got me going there.” you nodded in agreement, sending him a mock-sweet smile, “mhmm. i heard.”

nicholas’ hand tightened on your waist, “what?” deep and velvety. “why’d you say it like ‘that’?” you shook your head in response, biting back a laugh.

— and finally, as the interviews wrapped up, the final flashes from the photographers dimmed, the buzz of the red carpet slowly shifted toward the entrance of the theater. excitement rippled through the crowd as everyone began to make their way inside for the premiere. the energy, so loud and vibrant outside, now became a hum.

nicholas’ hand was touching the small of your back, guiding you through the thickening crowd — your security surrounding. nicholas’ presence was steady beside you ( as he had been your personal bodyguard ), and though you and him didn’t exchange many words, there was a quiet understanding.

the massive theater doors opened, revealing a stunning auditorium bathed in soft golden light, velvet chairs arranged in perfect rows, and the towering screen that would soon captivate everyone. nicholas reached down and took your hand in his — you glanced at how he turned your hand over, shifting and intertwining his fingers with yours. he squeezed gently, letting you know that you wouldn’t be seated away from him.

the seats filled quickly, the low murmur of voices blending into the occasional pop of champagne corks or soft rustle of programs. ushers guided the ‘special’ guests to their reserved spots near the center—prime viewing for the night’s main attraction.

as you sat, you glanced around, taking in the grandeur of the moment, your heart racing just a little. you always felt this way before releasing any creative work into the world — the calm before the storm of emotions that this film would undoubtedly stir in you.

nicholas lowered himself into the seat next to you, his arm brushing against yours as he settled in, the close quarters making it impossible not to feel the warmth radiating between. the lights dimmed gradually, signaling the start of the night, and the room began to fall silent, a collective breath being held.

and as the opening logos appeared on the screen, you leaned back in your chair, your pulse still quick, though now it was hard to tell if it was because of the film or because of nicholas sitting so close. you crossed your hands and held them in your lap. he leaned in slightly, his shoulder gently nudging yours in a quiet, almost unconscious gesture of love.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice low, the intimacy of the moment heightened by the darkening room. you turned your head, catching the soft gleam of his eyes, “yeah, i’m fine,” you said, unfolding your hands. you turned back to the large screen . .. . nicholas not yet staring away, admiring your side-profile.

the opening credits began to roll, casting flickering shadows over everyone’s faces. nicholas didn’t move away, his arm now resting easily on the armrest between, fingers casually brushing the back of your hand as the movie began to unfold. it was soft, unspoken, but the light touch persistent; more than just an accident or friendly gesture.

and here, you feel it completely and clearly. the something — that coursed through his entire being whenever he touched you or spoke to you — was now filling you up. the something you’ve been holding back to maintain a facade of professionalism despite the fact that your heart was consumed by him.

#nali’s ᡣ𐭩 #black writers #black reader #nicholas chavez #fame #lovers #short story #nicholas chavez X black!reader #eventual smut

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kodaiki · 10 months ago

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highlights! ⇢ jess got that toxic delulu goin on rn ⇢ nanami had a thirty minute convo at the premiere party the year prior bc he saw she was standing alone and bonded over their love of cats

author's note! ⇢ sorry for the late update!! hehe i cant tell if i wanna punch gojo or kiss him

꒰ 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 ꒱ ↳ as a rising star in the tumultuous world of hollywood, you're handed a golden opportunity to boost your career – a fake relationship. what your manager forgot to mention? your leading man is none other than satoru gojo, hollywood's notorious fuckboy. easy? well, not exactly.

PART FOUR | NEXT

ʚĭɞ rbs and interaction always appreciated! ʚĭɞ

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spacelazarwolf · 1 year ago

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109 years ago today, leo frank, an innocent american jewish man, was lynched.

in 1913, leo frank was arrested for the murder of mary phagan. despite evidence that he was at home at the time of the murder, the jury decided in just four hours that he was guilty and the judge sentenced him to death. all of frank's appeals were rejected. protests erupted outside the governor's mansion when the governor decided to commute frank's sentence from death to life imprisonment, and on august 17th, 1915, a group of 25 men kidnapped frank from the prison hospital where he was recovering from an attempt on his life, drove him 100 miles to mary phagan's hometown, and lynched him. there are several photos of the lynching.

though frank is the only known jewish victim of lynching in america, antisemitism was baked into the nation's history in numerous other ways. during the trial, the prosecuting attorney framed him as a sexual pervert who was both a homosexual and preyed on young girls. this is not the first time a jewish man has been framed as a sexual predatory because of his jewishness. it was simply the culmination of centuries of antisemitism that still persists to this day. (content warning for antisemitic caricatures and one graphic photo of the lynching of leo frank)

leo frank was proven innocent after his death, though many people still insist he was guilty, particularly white supremacists.

a musical called parade about the trial and tragic death of leo frank was written by jewish composer jason robert brown and jewish playwright alfred uhry. it premiered in 1988 and was revived in 2023 on broadway, starring jewish actors ben platt and micaela diamond, where neo nazis protested outside the theatre, claiming the show was "glorifying a pedophile."

as of writing this, tomorrow is the first day of elul, the last month in the jewish calendar culminating in the high holy days, the holiest days of the jewish year. every year, synagogues see an increase in negative attention and antisemitism from their wider communities. we start to receive more hostile phone calls and emails, threats of violence, and this year there was a swatting campaign targeting at least 26 jewish institutions. we are supposed to be using this time to reflect and make amends with the people we've hurt, and instead so much of our time and energy had to go toward ensuring we can even safely walk into our communal spaces.

i don't have the answer for how to fix this or what you as a gentile should do. antisemitism is thousands of years old, and it's not going to stop because some well meaning people on tumblr read all the articles linked in this post. all i know is that jews all over the world are terrified and so, so tired.

#jewish #jumblr #antisemitism

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positivexcellence · 3 months ago

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Jared Padalecki Joins ‘Fire Country’ For Guest Arc That Could Lead To New Franchise Offshoot

EXCLUSIVE: Jared Padalecki is returning to series television. The former Supernatural star, coming off a four-season run as the lead of Walker, has been tapped for a three-episode arc on the upcoming third season of CBS‘ hit drama series Fire Country, headlined and executive produced by Max Thieriot.

He will play Camden, a SoCal firefighter and maverick with a surfer swagger who is a force to be reckoned with and immediately recognizes Bode’s (Thieriot) raw talent.

The deal with Fire Country producer CBS Studios is strictly for the recurring role, sources said. Given Padalecki’s status as a popular leading man with two hit series under his belt, I hear there is a possibility for the guest stint to lead to a new spinoff headlined by him that would join the upcoming Sheriff Country.

Sources stress that the idea is still in its nascent stages. And similarly to the NCIS franchise, which originated on CBS and has generated four domestic offshoots on the network but has also expanded into streaming with the latest spinoff, NCIS: Tony & Ziva (as well as the streaming/broadcast NCIS: Sydney), a new Fire Country spinoff could be for broadcast or streaming. Reps for CBS and CBS Studios declined comment.

Fire Country, which was the most watched new broadcast series in its freshman season, was quickly identified by the CBS leadership as a potential franchise anchor that could spawn multiple spinoffs.

“We are focused on mass-appeal franchises,” CBS President and CEO George Cheeks said in June 2023. “This season’s number one show was Fire Country, which completely lends itself to building out a whole new universe… It became very clear that not only was the show special, it really felt like this could be a great example of us building together a franchise from scratch.”

The first Fire Country spinoff, the Morena Baccarin-starring Sheriff Country, which started off as a planted spinoff episode on the mothership series this past season, was recently picked up to series for 2025-26.

Keeping Padalecki in the fold has been a priority for CBS Studios following the end of its CW drama Walker, on which he was star and executive producer, leading to creating the opportunity for him on Fire Country. Walker was canceled for financial reasons despite being the network’s most watched series.

Fire Country averages more than 10 million viewers per episode in multi-platform viewing. (Live+35-day on Paramount + and CBS TVE)

Season 1 became available on Netflix in the US August 1 and has already reached #3 in the streamer’s daily rankings. This is an additional domestic streaming window for Fire Country whose first two seasons are on Paramount+. It is designed to give the show additional exposure ahead of its Oct. 18 Season 3 premiere on CBS.

From creators and executive producers Tony Phelan, Joan Rater and Thieriot, inspired by Thieriot’s experiences growing up in Northern California, the series follows Bode Donovan (Thieriot), a young convict seeking redemption and a shortened prison sentence by joining a prison release firefighting program in Northern California, which sends him back to his hometown.

Billy Burke, Kevin Alejandro, Diane Farr, Stephanie Arcila, Jordan Calloway and Jules Latimer also star. Tia Napolitano, who also serves as showrunner, executive produces alongside Jerry Bruckheimer and KristieAnne Reed of Jerry Bruckheimer Television.

Since the end of Walker, Padalecki also has discussed a role on the upcoming fifth and final season of Prime Video’s The Boys, developed and executive produced by Supernatural creator Eric Kripke. He is repped by UTA, Industry Entertainment and Fuller Law.

deadline

#jared padalecki #fire country

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internatlvelvet · 9 months ago

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Susan Bottomly at the **** Premiere. Dec 16 1967.

#susan bottomly #susan bottomly 1960s #1967 #winter 1967 #december 1967 #december #photographer: billy name #four stars premiere #party #sepia #earrings #susan bottomly sepia

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wlntrsldler · 7 months ago

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poisoned mercury | close as strangers (post chb)

a/n: okayyyy so i didn't give them an angst ending but i had to give into the angst monster at least once for this series so here's a bonus chapter for poisoned mercury. miscommunication galore. long distance is hard! two dumbasses in love!

song: close as strangers by 5sos

series masterlist | previous | next

"i'll talk to you tomorrow, yeah?" luke whispered, trying not to wake his bandmates up. the tour bus was large enough to house them while they were on the road, but it didn't really give the privacy he hoped for. chris was just across the narrow walkway from him and luke could hear his soft snores through the thin curtain that separated them.

luke felt his heart hammering in his chest when you didn't reply to him. he could still hear your breaths through the phone and you were just talking to him a second ago, so he knew you were still awake. you both had equally busy lives which meant that your phone calls were getting shorter and shorter each day. luke knew it was because you were booked with school and tournaments for field hockey and he was always exhausted after each meeting now that the band was working on their second album. luke knew all of this, but it didn't stop him from missing you. he was lucky to get a ten-minute call with you nowadays.

"baby?" he tried again, chewing on his bottom lip. he turned to face the ceiling of his bunk, the light from his phone casting a shadow on his face as he waited for you to say something. anything. "can i call you tomorrow?"

you sighed, "i don't know, luke. i have a busy day. it's a travel game tomorrow so i don't know if i'll be up late."

"oh," he cleared his throat, trying to hide his disappointment. he felt a little stupid that there were tears pooling in his eyes. so you can't talk tomorrow, it shouldn't be a big deal, right? except that luke felt like you were pulling away from him. little by little. and he didn't know how to stop it. it wasn't like he could drop everything to show up at your doorstep and fix things with you. if it was up to him, he would do it in a heartbeat, but you'd probably get mad at him for it, for abandoning his responsibilities as the lead singer of the most popular band in the world. not to mention the boys would be livid and mr. d and his mom would be equally furious.

"sorry, maybe next week?"

"yeah, sure," he replied, thankful that you weren't on facetime tonight. he didn't want you to see his face. "alright, i'll let you get some rest. go kill it tomorrow. g'night, five star."

"goodnight," you said, ending the call as soon as the last syllable left your lips.

luke groaned quietly, tossing his phone on the foot of his bed. he knew long distance was going to be difficult. it's been months since he last saw you, months since he was at camp half blood, sleeping in your bed and waking up to the feeling of your lips peppering kisses on his face. maybe he shouldn't have gotten so attached so fast, but it wasn't like he had a choice in the matter.

he got out from his bunk, tucking his feet into his slippers and made his way to the living room area of the bus. he sat on the couch, peering out the window to watch the empty roads ahead. they were on their way to nashville to meet with a producer that mr. d recommended. the second album was almost done, but it was missing something and none of them wanted to put out a record that didn't meet their expectations.

mr. d was already in tennessee waiting for them. he'd flown in from houston a few days ago with luke's mom and the rest of the poisoned mercury team while the boys were in atlanta for a movie premiere. they decided that a road trip was needed to de-stress after the glitz and buzz of the red carpet. it was nice to have some alone time with the boys. in their tour bus, luke felt like they were back in connecticut, just four friends fucking around, writing music, and eating junk food until their stomachs hurt.

he turned on the tv, switching to some random channel that he wasn't paying attention to. he just needed some noise to drown out his thoughts, but that didn't seem to work. all he could think of was you, his five star, and how much he missed you. luke wondered if you were having second thoughts about this whole thing. maybe he'd been too optimistic about things; maybe you weren't on the same page as he was; maybe you realized that it was too difficult to be with him.

a shiver ran down his spine as he spiraled into his thoughts. admitting to himself that something was wrong between the two of you left a bitter taste in his mouth because he didn't want to believe it. he saw you as his endgame, like nobody else in the world could compare to you, and to think that you may not feel the same about him... well, it was a difficult pill to swallow.

he wondered if he came on too strong, showed his cards too early, and seemed too clingy and lovestruck before it was deemed appropriate. you'd only been together, officially at least, for four months, most of which were long distance, but luke knew he was a goner for you way before that.

he silently cursed as the chill of the december air hit his skin. he should've worn a hoodie. he grabbed the small throw blanket draped over the armchair and placed it around his shoulders. he wished he got to see you over thanksgiving break because maybe you two wouldn't be in this rocky situation right now, but your coach ordered you and clarisse to stay on campus over break to sharpen your skills since you missed summer training. luke and chris were less than pleased with the idea, but they knew it was out of their control.

luke fell asleep on the couch that night after succumbing to the tiredness in his body. the sun was beginning to rise by the time his eyelids fluttered shut. he hoped that he'd wake up to a text from you, but when he woke up to the sound of the bus screeching to a halt in nashville, he realized it was the hope that kills.

“are you guys going to the fall concert?” silena asked, poking her head out of the bathroom. she was part of the planning committee for the unc fall semester concert and she’d been stressing over the logistics of it for weeks.

“lena, if we even tried to miss it, you’d kill us,” clarisse chuckled, putting on a coat of mascara. “you’ve been talking about this since we got back.”

the three of you were getting ready in your dorm. you and clarisse were roommates this year, thank gods for athlete privileges, and silena lived in the building next door in a single since she was an ra. how she had the time to be an ra, be a member of the music festival planning committee, and be a full-time student was truly beyond your comprehension.

“lena, calm down. it’ll be good,” you squeezed her shoulders as you passed by behind her, grabbing your lipgloss from the counter. “and even if it sucks, half the people in the crowd are either drunk or high or both and will probably not remember it.”

“true,” she snorted, curling the final piece of her hair. she unplugged her hair curler and gave herself one last look in the mirror, “i’ll see you guys there? i gotta go make sure shit didn’t hit the fan.”

you and clarisse nodded as silena said her goodbyes. you dabbed on some lipgloss, glancing down at your phone every few seconds. clarisse side-eyed you, unable to hide her smile, “you waitin’ for a text?”

“shut up,” you rolled your eyes at her teasing tone. she didn't really know that your relationship was a little muddy at the moment. you weren’t the best at talking about your feelings and it felt wrong to talk about your relationship drama when clarisse and chris seemed to be going strong. “they’re supposed to land in los angeles ten minutes ago.”

“their flight probably got delayed, y/n,” she replied, “happens all the time.”

“no, i know, but just wanna make sure they’re safe, y’know?”

clarisse crossed her arms over her chest, “they’re safe or he’s safe?”

you ignored her question, opting to busy yourself with the weather app on your phone to avoid any follow-up questions, “how are you not checking your phone for a text from chris right now?”

she shrugged, “he always knocks out on long flights so i don’t expect a text until he gets to their hotel.”

“how are you and chris, by the way? i know we live together and shit, but i feel like we haven’t gotten to talk about it in detail since we’re always so tired from school and practice.”

“we’re good,” clarisse hummed, “just miss him loads, though. i haven’t seen him since we left camp– what? four, almost five, months ago?”

you were in the same boat, kind of. you and luke hadn’t seen each other in months and you were getting antsy. they’d been on the road for the past few months, meeting with producers and fulfilling their contractual obligations. they hadn’t been in a set location long enough for you to be able to fly out to see luke, even just for a weekend.

at first, there were movie dates where you’d order each other food and eat and watch the movie on facetime together. there were weekly phone calls and daily texts, but nothing compares to the real thing. being with luke in person was something that you were craving. camp half blood spoiled you with having him all for yourself and now that you were back in school and he’s out in the world, it was beginning to weigh on you.

you missed him. a lot.

you missed kissing him and feeling his lips break out into a smile when you’d mumble something stupid. you missed feeling his arms around you, hugging you from behind while you got ready for the day. you even missed waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of him scribbling random lyrics on pieces of scrap paper he found in your room when he slept over.

long distance is hard and sure, luke wouldn’t be the type to cheat or do anything to jeopardize your relationship, but it still didn’t stop a knot from forming in your stomach every time a picture of him or the band popped up on your social media with a gorgeous singer, actor, or model that they ran into on the red carpet. what if he realizes one day that he wants someone who lives the same life as him? wild and adventurous, not tied down by school or sports?

a part of you felt silly for being so insecure about things. it was too early in the relationship to have this conversation, isn’t it? you knew that your avoidance of the topic was starting to affect your relationship with luke, as much as you wished it didn’t, but what if the minute you voice your concerns, he’ll realize that being with you was more than he bargained for? after all, you weren’t the same five star with all the time in her hands, care-free, and relaxed that he met at camp. there was a chance that luke would call it quits on this if you said anything and it felt like too big of a risk to take.

your phone buzzed on the counter, indicating a text.

from: luke <3

‘landed and jetlagged. gonna sleep for a few. enjoy the concert babe!’

you hearted the message and slipped your phone into your back pocket after sending him a quick goodnight text. the three dots popped up for a second, then in a blink, they disappeared. read at 8:43 pm.

“you ready?”

you snapped out of your thoughts at the sound of clarisse’s voice. you nodded and grabbed your small purse before heading out the door. you ran into a group of your teammates who were heading to the amphitheater across campus for the concert. the walk seemed to fly by as they cracked jokes and shared stories about random things. you stayed silent for the most part, only laughing along when it seemed like the right time, but your mind was somewhere else. your mind was in los angeles.

by the time you got to the venue, you and clarisse separated from the group to enter the vip tent, courtesy of silena. a small crowd was beginning to form in front of the stage, taking up the grassy field. charlie was already at the tent, sipping on an ipa when he saw the two of you. his face broke out into a wide smile, giving you and clarisse a quick hug before leading you to the seats he saved.

“season’s looking promising for you guys, charlie,” you commented, accepting the high noon he offered. “the team’s looking good out there.”

“thanks,” he beamed, “don’t think we’re on the level of national champs just yet like you guys, but we’re trying!”

“you guys are doing great,” clarisse chimed in, “the energy in the stadium is electric this year. makes me love college.”

“are you telling me the papers and tests aren’t what makes you love college, la rue?” charlie teased.

she snorted, “oh yeah, because i just love staying up until 1 am writing a paper on greek mythology for classics 101.”

the three of you fell into a comfortable conversation about the class you were all taking. it was a prerequisite class that most athletes choose to take because the professor was flexible with deadlines when it came to athletes. it was helpful especially when a team has to play beyond their season for tournaments or championships. about ten minutes before the opening act got on stage, silena rushed into the tent.

“guys, please you need to come with me. i need your help,” she said frantically. she was nervously tugging on her ‘staff’ badge around her neck, already halfway out of the tent as she waited for the three of you to follow her. “please, it’s an emergency.”

“woah, lena, what’s going on?” you asked, getting up to comfort her. you followed her through the crowd, grabbing clarisse’s hand to keep her close.

silena shook her head, continuing her march through the sea of people, “just come with me, i’ll explain when we get backstage.”

you and clarisse looked at each other, feeling bad for silena. she put in her blood, sweat, and tears into this concert and you knew that she would beat herself up over it if something went wrong. silena always put her all into the projects she’s passionate about, but sometimes things outside of her control happen and unfortunately, she blames herself for it.

in the whirlwind of ‘excuse me’s’ and ‘sorry’s’, the four of you managed to make your way backstage. it was chaotic. people were running around everywhere making sure everything was set for the opening act. the girl who was opening the concert was waiting by the wings, her guitar strapped across her chest as she took some deep breaths. the crowd wasn’t full yet, but you knew that if you were in that position, you’d still be sweating buckets. going out there on stage to perform for strangers was nerve-racking. you didn’t know how luke did it. you admired that about him.

“lena, are you gonna tell us what’s going on?” clarisse questioned, picking up the pace of her steps to match silena.

silena stopped in front of a door, slowly turning to face you and clarisse. suddenly, her stressed facade faded as she twisted the doorknob, “why don’t you see for yourself?”

if you weren’t so confused about what was going on, you would’ve seen charlie lift his can up to his lips to hide his smile at how proud he was of his girlfriend for her acting skills. when the door opened, your heart stopped.

luke was here.

he stood in the middle of the room beside chris with a nervous smile on his face. he was wearing a black leather jacket on top of a white tank top and black pants. his poisoned mercury chain hung from his neck, shining under the overhead lights. his hands were stuffed in his front pockets, shy and timid, as he waited for your reaction.

clarisse screamed when it hit her that chris was actually here. she ran to him and nearly tackled him to the floor. chris wrapped his arms around his girlfriend and laughed as she giggled into his neck. the two of them shared a heartfelt reunion before rushing out of the room to get some privacy. the sound of the door shutting behind you made you blink.

luke cleared his throat, right hand scratching the back of his neck, “hey, five star.”

the nickname brought you back to your senses. you ran to him, engulfing him in a tight hug with an ‘umph.’ at first, luke was tense under your touch, unsure if you’d be happy with his surprise, but quickly, he melted into you. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, sighing in content as your familiar scent surrounded him. he felt sparks coursing through his veins as you hugged him tighter and all he could think about was how good it felt to have you in his arms again. his mind was still reeling at your reaction. he didn’t expect you to run to him like this, especially not when it felt like you’d been avoiding his calls over the last few weeks.

“what are you doing here?” you asked him, pulling away to hold his face in your hands. your eyes twinkled as you raked over his face, still in disbelief that he was actually in front of you. “you’re supposed to be in la.”

luke couldn’t stop the lopsided smile on his face, “well, i lied? we were in nashville recording with your dad and he mentioned that he didn’t schedule a session for us this weekend in case me and chris wanted to take a trip to north carolina, so here we are.”

you ran your thumbs over his cheekbones, whispering, “here you are.”

“god, i missed you so much,” he said, voice breaking. “you have no idea how hard it’s been.”

you gulped, your hold on his face faltering a bit. if luke wasn’t on edge, he wouldn’t have noticed the falter in your step, but he felt the slight hesitation in your actions. your warm touch slowly peeled away from his face and he instantly regretted saying those words. here he goes being clingy again. he removed his hands from your waist, clearing his throat. he sat on the couch, motioning for you to sit beside him. he tried to keep his hands to himself when you left a space between the two of you.

“i still can’t believe you’re really here,” you said, staring at him. you wanted to lean over and hold him in your arms again, but there was a weird tension in the air that made you feel queasy. “i feel like i’m dreaming right now.”

“i hope you’re not mad that i’m here,” luke looked down at his lap, flexing his hands. he had to keep his hands busy or else he’d surely reach for yours and he didn’t want to come on too strong. he had to keep his distance. he didn’t want to scare you off any more than he already did. “there was just an opening in the schedule and i-i wanted to see you.”

“i’m not mad at all.”

“good, good,” he replied. silence. he forced himself to look up from his lap, twisting his body to face you. he bit his bottom lip, trying to build up the courage to ask his next question. “are we okay?”

“we’re okay.”

“okay because i feel like things have been different between us lately,” he pursed his lips, looking at you with sad eyes. his tongue poked out the corner of his lips, eyes darting between you and the wall behind you. “i don’t know. i feel like we haven’t talked in ages, y’know? and i know you’re busy and you have a great life here that i’m not really a part of, but uh, i wanna be, y’know? i don’t know much about school or field hockey, but it’s important to you and you’re important to me so i wanna hear about it.”

he was met with more silence. luke continued, “maybe i’m asking for too much when i ask you to let me be a part of this life, but uh, i miss you? and i just feel like i’m losing you and that’s the last thing i want. so you gotta give me something, five star. tell me what i can do to be better.”

“if you need me to back off, i’ll do it, you know? you call the shots. you tell me what you need from me, and i’ll do it, okay? i just– i can’t lose this. i don’t wanna lose you,” luke mumbled. “maybe this is all in my head too. i don’t know anymore.”

you shuddered, lip quivering, “i feel like i’m holding you back.”

“what?”

“come on, luke,” you flicked away the tear that trickled down your cheek, “you’re out there in the world doing what you love. meeting new people. living your life and i don’t want to hold you back from that. we met each other when i didn’t have all these responsibilities and who i was at camp is not who i am here and i know you love those impromptu adventures and trips and spontaneity. a-and i can’t give that to you.”

“you deserve someone who can live this life with you and i’m stuck here for two more years, luke. i can’t do that,” it was getting hard to breathe. your throat felt like it was closing up, cutting off your airflow. you’d been putting off this conversation for weeks. it didn’t feel right to talk about this over the phone, and you thought that you had a few more weeks to figure out what to say to him when you saw him for winter break, but he was here now. “you deserve more than facetime calls and text messages, and that’s all i can offer.”

“is this–” he paused, licking his lips. “is this not what you want anymore?”

“what?”

“this, us? is this just not what you want anymore?”

an involuntary laugh escaped you as you wiped under your eye, “castellan, i don’t think i could stop wanting you even if i wanted to. and you know when we first met, i really wanted to.”

luke moved closer to you, just an inch or two, trying to gauge your reaction. you didn’t move away, which he took as a good sign, “i’m confused. why do you sound like you want to end this then?”

“i don’t want you to settle for this,” you sighed, “i know what you deserve and it isn’t this.”

“bullshit.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, looking at him in disbelief, “what?”

“i’m sorry, five star, but that’s bullshit,” a small smile was tugging on his lips. he reached over to place a hand over yours. his fingers traced your knuckles, running the pads of his fingers across the familiar ridges of your skin. “i don’t understand how after all this time you still don’t realize that all i want is you. it’s ridiculous, really.”

“it’s ridiculous?”

“it’s ridiculous,” he chuckled wetly. his other hand rubbed at his eyes, clearing his foggy vision. “our situation isn’t ideal, i know that, but i’d take long distance with you over anything else with anyone else. don’t you get it, five star? you’re it for me. if this isn’t what you want anymore, i’ll accept that. but if you’re only doing this because you don’t think i want this… five star, i want it all with you. long distance. phone calls. text messages. weekend trips when we can get them. distance has nothing on how i feel about you.”

leave it to luke castellan to make you blush. you shyly looked at him, eyes twinkling with something more than either of you bargained for when you first met in that secret spot you call yours, “how do you feel about me?”

“i’m not gonna say it right now because i don’t want to have the first time be while we’re in a fight,” luke laughed. the air was starting to clear. “but i have a feeling you know.”

“i know,” you squeezed his hand three times, “i do too.”

“will you put me out of my misery and kiss me please?”

“always so fucking dramatic,” you scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes, but you leaned over and pressed your lips to his.

#frances writes #poisoned mercury #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke pjo #luke castellan #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n

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lesbiancolumbo · 1 year ago

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As Indigenous woman filmmakers, we knew that our path through the industry would be narrow and that our film, Fancy Dance, would have a small window for success based on the abysmal record of representation for Indigenous folx in Hollywood. As such, we channeled our collective wills as granddaughters of Dust Bowl survivors, descendants of genocide and avowed followers of the indomitable Merata Mita to give this film the best shot possible. If there existed a “how to make a successful movie in Hollywood” checklist, we followed it to a tee. Step one: Create a compelling script (after her sister’s disappearance, a hustler kidnaps her niece from the child’s white grandparents and takes her to the state powwow in hopes of keeping what’s left of her family intact) – check. Step two: Find top-tier producing partners (Nina Yang Bongiovi, Tommy Oliver) – check. Step three: Cast amazing actors at the top of their field (soon-to-be Oscar nominee Lily Gladstone) – check. Step four: Premiere and screen at world-renowned festivals (Sundance, SXSW, BFI London) – check. Step five: Receive excellent reviews (THR called it “exceptional”) and festival prizes (Hamptons, L.A. Outfest, Mill Valley, NewFest, Sun Valley, Tacoma) – check. Step six: Get a distribution deal – …crickets.

#i am SOOOOO glad someone let erica write about this because it is the most fucked up thing i've seen ALL YEAR #one of the best films of the year and after all the KOTFM love (ugh) this gets CRICKETS? NOTHING? fuck y'all

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lizardsfromspace · 7 months ago

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What's the worst thing about fandom in the last 20 years, and what's the worst thing about fandom that's always been true of it?

The worst thing about fandom in the last 20 years has been the incentivizing of fandom-as-conflict: not merely as a field in broader culture wars but as the field for endless intra-group battles.

This manifests in many ways: as seven hour videos complaining about The Last Jedi, as Twitter backlash campaigns, but also as stans defending their faves from any and all criticism real or imagined, as the endless boom-and-backlash cycle to any fandom meme or joke you see on Reddit, and as the drive for people to look for evidence other people discussing a thing they like are hysterical illiterate dolts, before anything else.

Or, in other words: a lot of fandoms are full of assholes these days, whose main interaction with fandom is using it as a reason to be an asshole, and to defend being an asshole. The actual “fandom” part of fandom no longer really exists for them. The discourse more or less is their fandom; someone whose main fandom activity is sharing videos about how Steven Universe is a fascist (?) isn’t in the Steven Universe fandom, they’re in the videos about how Steven Universe is a fascist (?) fandom. I mean, the chief fandom for many people is their side in the fandom war. What type of fanfic you write is secondary to what your affiliations are vis-a-vis battles over fanfiction

(One trend I've noticed is people who aren't at the stage where they only talk about what they hate and not what they love, but are at the stage where they can only talk about what they love in relation to what they hate. "I love this movie...and it proves this other movie is bullshit made by a hack". No ability to say just "I love this movie", period, end of sentence. This is how like two-thirds of Film Twitter talks about film, the remainder are all the grindhouse people going "man you've GOT to see Wrong Turn 5")

Another one, that I think is related, is that fandom’s become...more transitory, maybe? There’s Big Fandoms that are inescapable and then everything else feels like it’s here for a weekend and then it’s gone. And we’ve always had fandoms that endure and fandoms that vanish quickly, when the show runs short or turns out to be bad/boring, but we did use to have a lot of enduring if small fandoms for Okay shows most people hadn’t heard of and now you don’t really. Or they burn themselves out fast.

So we’ve reached this stage where fandoms are either so big they have seven hour long discourse videos, or they’re a smattering of fanart over the course of two weeks last August. But that isn’t really the fault of fans so much as modern media release schedules.

A lot of fandom activities of old are just...impossible now, with many shows? The slow build of speculation and fan works and in-jokes and theorizing and analysis simply can’t exist in a world where the premiere comes out the same day as the finale, and you can’t talk about the finale because you have no way of knowing if the person you’re talking to binged it all in one weekend or is still on episode four. That was the kind of thing that sustained the fandom of something that wasn’t a big hit, or even something that was. My fave fandom experience ever was watching the online Lost fandom wildly theorizing for all six years of Lost, and we’d never get “and what if the Smoke Monster is a dinosaur but only the head?” under a Netflix release model. Now at a base level, we either have shows nobody can discuss because nobody’s sure who’s seen or what, or shows where everyone just discusses the finale right away, and where you get One Week of Show and then a massive hiatus, which either kills all momentum or...drives fandom in the direction of hyper-analyzing everything and fighting because, well, what else is there to do? And that plus the outrage cycles of social media plus the fact that “man who yells at Star Wars” is now a viable career choice result in, well. *gestures upwards* All that

(Really, shout out to Cartoon Network for engineering the Steven Universe fandom to Be Like That through their inscrutable strategy of dropping episodes during one random week every five months or whatever)

As for something that's always been with it...cliques and a certain fannish elitism, like, that sees engaging with media in a fandom sense as more creative or analytical or intelligent than your average person. You see it now in the form of, like, people holding up fanfic above published fiction as more representative or authentic (I’ve seen more than one post on here strongly implying queer rep doesn’t exist in mainstream non-fic storytelling???), or going “well, we think about shows, unlike those normies watching sports”. But that was probably way more pronounced a thing in the past, in the 40-50s sci-fi fans were calling non-fans "mundanes" and calling themselves "slans" as an in-group signifier (a reference to a book with superintelligent psychic mutants known as slans). Like at the very least we should be happy no one’s calling non-fans “muggles” anymore. In the evolution from “mundane” to “muggle” to “normie” normie’s probably the least bad one

#asks #fandom #schafpudel #long post

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petersasteria · 11 months ago

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You're Losing Me - T.C.

Pairing: Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader Warning/s: angsty Words: 4,155 Note: I was inspired to write my first ever timmy fic bc of @meetmyothersouls! <3

Flashing lights of the cameras and photographers calling out your name echoed the red carpet as soon as you stepped out of the limousine. You smiled brightly, excited to be attending your first red carpet event. You’re an actress that was given her big break last year and now you’re at the premier of your first ever movie starring Tom Holland and yourself. It was fun working with Tom Holland and you’ve grown closer as filming progressed. You can finally say that he’s now one of your best friends along with his girlfriend, Zendaya.

The whole time at the movie premier itself was a blur. You treasured your first ever movie, but you were way more excited for the after party. You couldn’t wait to meet new people and make new friends while you party all night.

You quickly got changed after the premiere and went straight to the after party venue. There, you saw him. Timothée Chalamet. You’ve obviously never met him before, but you always wished to be even in the same room as him and there he was, talking to Tom and Zendaya.

Tom glanced your way and motioned you to come over. “There’s Y/N!” Tom smiled.

Timothée looked in your direction and you could’ve melted right then and there. He was so magnetic. You were so drawn to him that everything began to move in slow motion. He gave you a warm smile and when you were finally with the group, he offered his hand for you to shake and simply said, “I’m Timothée. It’s nice to finally meet you!”

You shook his hand and blushed a little, “I’m Y/N, and it’s nice to meet you too! I’m a huge fan of yours.”

“Really? Because, I’m a fan of yours too. The way you portray your character is amazing and it feels real, if that makes sense. There’s no doubt that you’re very talented and I’m excited to see more of your work!” Timothée said.

“T, you don’t need to be so formal around her.” Zendaya chuckled.

“Oh, that’s alright! It’s actually pretty cute.” You giggled. Tom and Zendaya looked at each other with a knowing smile before looking back at both of you.

“Z and I will get drinks for us four. We’ll be back.” Tom said as he winked at you. You found it weird, but you shrugged it off.

“So…” you started. Timothée looked at you and asked, “Are you nervous? I don’t know, I just feel that vibe from you right now.”

“Yeah, I kind of am.” You admitted with a laugh. You sighed in relief after getting that off of your chest. Timothée laughed and said, “What are you nervous about?”

“Honestly? Seeing you made me nervous. You’re just so great and being able to stand next to you is already such an honor. You’re, like, my celebrity crush.” You told him. It surprised you how casual you were in saying all that. He was surprised to know that he was your celebrity crush.

When the after party ended, he followed you back on Instagram and asked for your number. From then on you’ve been texting non-stop. You started becoming friends and Tom was really happy for you. Turns out, he and Zendaya have been wanting to set you up with Timothée for a long time and they seized the opportunity when they found out he was invited to attend the after party.

After a year of being friends, he asked you to be his girlfriend. Of course, you said yes despite hearing many people tell you that he’s sort of a playboy. You didn’t care because the only thing that mattered was you and him. Immediately, headlines about your new relationship began to emerge. He was your first serious boyfriend and in the headlines, you were just another one of his girlfriends. It hurt that people saw you that way, but Timothée reassured you that he loves you and he’s serious about you too.

The first year of your relationship with Timothée was the best. He took you to Paris and gave you a promise ring. “I know it’s not an engagement ring and I know how much you want to get married, but I just want to give you this ring as a promise that I’ll replace it with an engagement ring someday.” He said as he blushed. His nose was pink because of the cold and he slipped the ring on your finger before giving your hand a kiss. You smiled at him and gave him a huge hug. “I can’t wait!” You exclaimed happily. You truly loved him with all your heart. You felt nothing but utter bliss.

Along with the first year of your relationship came some small struggles. Timothée got busier with movie projects left and right and you were struggling a bit in handling your new fame. You were lucky that Timothée was there for you to help you. You attended all of his movie premieres and he attended all of your important events too. Everyone loved both of you and even called you “couple goals”. You were supportive of each other and his fans were thankful for you for posting pictures of him often. Both of your fan bases grew from there. Despite the growing popularity, you and Timothée started a tradition. You and him decided that every Friday night would be your “indoor-catch up-dinner date”. You loved every second of it.

The second year of your relationship your acting started to boom. Soon, your name was as big as Timothée’s. Seeing as your relationship was very public, many directors always cast you and Timothée alongside each other for a more real chemistry on and off screen. Your Instagram was soon full of behind the scenes photos of you and Timothée. The fans absolutely loved it. This continued on until the fourth year of your relationship. Because of the money you both earned, both of you decided to buy a house together to move into. It was you and him against the world.

Timothée entered one of the rooms and was in awe. It was empty, but the light that shone through the window made the room more beautiful. It wasn’t the master’s bedroom, but it was special. Without thinking, Timothée looked at the realtor and said, “We’ll buy it!” You looked at him like he was crazy, “We didn’t see the other houses yet.”

“I know, but this room right here is too special to pass up. The light in here is just as gorgeous as you and y’know we could make this our game room or a date night room. We could slow dance in here or play cards or work. I’m just so excited to be spending some time with you here.” He said as he lovingly looked at you.

The fifth year of your relationship started being rocky. You never thought anything of it. Timothée did bring up the idea of not accepting projects that have something to do with you and him being together. “Oh, may I ask why?” You asked, wondering why he brought it up. “Y/N, I love you, but I miss being able to work with other people. I hope you don’t take it the wrong way. I loved working with you as a couple for, like, three years. We made over six movies together and I cherish every single one of them. I just want to work with someone now.” He confessed. It hurt hearing him say that, but you knew he was right. Both of you needed to grow as actors and for that to happen, you had to work with different people. You looked at him and gave him a small smile, “Alright. I understand.”

“Thank you.”

Soon, he was casted in a lot of movies with different people and you decided to widen your range. You walked on runways, you starred in commercials, you guested on podcasts, and you starred in music videos. You were always present when Timothée had a premiere, but he started lessening his public appearances with you at your events. Everyone didn’t seem to notice. Maybe because his projects were overshadowing yours or maybe because your important events didn’t seem as important as his. You didn’t mind, though. You just longed for him to be next to you.

In your sixth year, a video of Timothée went viral when an interviewer asked about you and his smile dropped a bit and said, “Y/N’s doing great. I’m happy for all her achievements. As much as I want to talk about her, I’d like to focus on the film please. That’s what we’re all here for, anyway.”

Meanwhile, a video compilation of you talking about Timothée went viral. Many fans noted how different you two are. Many say you didn’t deserve him. Others say that you’re too clingy for Timothée’s liking. You decided to post on your Instagram story, defending Timothée.

You defended him a lot more times after that.

You got nothing in return, though.

You stared at the promise ring on your finger during your seventh year and wondered when Timothée would propose. You were experiencing the seven year itch; it’s your make it or break it year as a couple. Many fans speculated a break up after seeing Timothée do nothing. You still defended him amidst all negativity. You posted him all the time and he only posted you once on your birthday. You were growing tired, but you faced every single day with a smile on your face, hoping to trick yourself into being your usual self.

Timothée started bailing on your Friday night dates, often choosing to party with his friends to celebrate something that didn’t concern you. You still cooked and made the whole place look nice, though. You didn’t know why. Maybe deep down you knew that your relationship is in shambles and that you needed to convince yourself that everything’s fine. You knew many people were questioning Timothée’s love for you and in an effort to save his reputation, you took a picture of all the food you prepared and posted it on Instagram with the caption: tim may be out with his friends now, but he made sure to cook these for me before leaving. thank you, my love.

You didn’t know what hurt you most: the fact that you did that or the fact that Timothée liked the post and commented “no problem. Anything for you. Enjoy.”

You cried yourself to sleep that night. Timothée arrived home when you were silently crying. You felt the bed dip down on his side and he whispered, “Thanks for the food. I’ll eat it tomorrow.”

You made it through another year. It’s your eighth year dating Timothée and he still hasn’t made his promise come true. However, you drowned yourself in your work. So much so, that you were even busier than Timothée now. Headlines were vile, though. Timothée was out of the country filming his new movie and you attended red carpets on your own. Many people compared your relationship with Tom and Zendaya. Many people attacked you for Timothée’s lack of presence.

“Y/N! It’s so great to see you. How do you feel that Timothée is not here with you on your special day? You’ve been nominated as Best Actress in your new film, but Timothée is nowhere to be found.” The interviewer asked.

“He’s out of the country filming for his new movie, actually! I’m extremely happy for him. He’s been truly blessed.” You smiled brightly at the interviewer despite feeling sick to your stomach as you had to put up an act in front of the interviewer.

“Well, I’m sure he would make time for you. Tom Holland always finds a way to support Zendaya on the red carpet all the time. Why can’t Timothée do the same?”

“Um,” You started. You feel so uncomfortable right now. “I don’t think you should compare my relationship with others because every relationship is different. Timothée supports me too in his own way. He’s a silent cheerleader, always has been and I accept him for it. Thank you.” You said before walking away. You wanted to cry.

After that, Timothée never even called or texted to ask if you were okay and how the event went. You entered the room you and Timothée loved and sat alone in the dark and cried. You were so tired of feeling this way, but you loved him with all your heart.

Your ninth year comes around and you find yourself glaring at Timothée almost always. You were just waiting for him to break up with you already so you could move on with your life. However, Timothée has been spending time with you a lot lately which made it hard for you to get mad at him. Even if what he’s doing is the bare minimum. He’s been taking you out on dates, he was bringing back the Friday night catch-ups, he’s posting you more on social media, and he even took a break from acting just to be with you on set. It gave the fans joy. It gave news outlets something to report about. Most of all, it gave you hope. Maybe the old him is finally back for good.

During your tenth year, a lot of people were confused. Everyone thought you’d be married with children by now. An interview of you and Timothée from ten years ago recently went viral. In the video, the interviewer asked you and Timothée where your relationship stands in ten years. Timothée, in the video, simply answered, “probably still together” with a small chuckle. You, on the other hand, excitedly said, “by then we’d most likely be married for about five years with two or three young children”. The fan who posted the short clip on Twitter captioned it with: it’s been ten years, but nothing happened at all i hope my parents are okay :((

Your body language has been on autopilot for a while now. In front of the cameras, you smiled brightly and laughed more, but if you looked closely, your eyes had no life. Your heart grew cold too. You were immune to any shenanigans Timothée has put you through. After years of not being in the same movie together, you and Timothée were casted as the main characters of a film by Greta Gerwig.

In the press conference, one interviewer asked you and Timothée about the video that went viral. “Yeah, we saw the video. I forgot about that to be honest.” Timothée chuckled as he looked at you with a small smile. You never looked back at him, though. You just stared at the interviewer and said, “I forgot about it too, but y’know when you’re working, you always don’t know that a few years have already gone by. One day, you’ll just realize ‘oh wow it’s been a long time!’. So, yeah.”

“Any plans on getting married soon? I mean, I think I speak for everyone when I say that everyone wants to see the Hollywood It Couple to finally tie the knot.” The interviewer added.

“I’m always ready for marriage. I think I’ve always been ready… no matter how tired I was. I think I’m just waiting to be asked.” You chuckled half-heartedly as you put down the mic on your lap and looked at Timothée, who was now looking at the interviewer. You looked at him with hope. You wanted him to defend you just once because you knew you looked like an idiot waiting for him. Thinking about it made you tear up, but you held your composure.

“You know, for me, marriage is just a piece of paper. I feel content with what I have now. Let’s see again in ten years.” Timothée joked, causing everyone to laugh with what he said going over everyone’s head. You nodded to yourself and looked away from him. You gave a big smile as everyone laughed. You were dying and he was laughing. How can he be so dense?

Vogue did a photo shoot with you and Timothée on your anniversary. They interviewed you too about having a long relationship. At that point, you were lying to yourself. Any body language expert would see that your eyes had no spark as it once had when you started dating him.

You were at the point in your relationship that you couldn’t feel him anymore. There’s only so much your heart could take. In your eleventh year, you found yourself sneaking out of your shared room to go to yours and Timothée’s favorite room. You would sit in the dark and cry at ungodly hours. You would sleep there too. Timothée never even looked for you. He just assumed you had work and left early. It happened a lot. Sometimes, when you walked out of the room, you’d smell something good coming from the kitchen. He was cooking breakfast.

“Oh, you’re here! You’re lucky I cooked a lot.” Timothée chuckled and set up a plate for you. He looked at you and it was evident that you’ve been crying. “Are you okay?” He asked.

Hearing that made you cry again. For the first time in a long time, he finally asked you that. Regardless, you nodded through your tears and wiped them away. “I’m alright. I was just reading a script that someone sent me and it just hit hard, I guess.” You answered with a teary-eyed smile before sitting down on your usual seat. You started eating the food he cooked as tears streamed down your face.

Your birthday came around and Zendaya threw you a surprise party at a club that you liked. Timothée wasn’t even there. He was working late on set. He probably forgot about your birthday. You didn’t care anymore. Your relationship is already in shambles anyway whether he knew it or not. When the party ended, it was raining hard outside. When you arrived home, there was no electricity due to the heavy rain. You didn’t go straight to your shared room with Timothée. Instead, you went to your favorite room and there was Timothée in the candle lit room with a small cake on the coffee table. He smiled at you and said, “Happy birthday, Y/N! I’m so sorry. I forgot, but I hope this makes up for it. I know it’s not perfect, but hey, today’s Friday catch-up. What a great way to celebrate your birthday, huh?”

You sat on the bean bag chair, stared at the cake, and looked at him. You were crying again. He frowned and knelt down in front of you, “What’s wrong? Do you not like the cake? We can get a new one tomorrow, I promise-”

“When are you going to stop with these promises, Timmy?” You said, your heart wrenching in pain. It was heavy, what you were feeling. You couldn’t handle it anymore.

“What do you mean? I don’t understand what you’re saying.” He said. He was lost.

“I know you don’t understand. You never did understand anything.” You cried. “It’s time to stop lying to ourselves. We haven’t been okay for so long and I feel sick to my stomach seeing you act as if we’re okay all day, everyday. I’m tired, T. I’m so tired.”

He looked at you; he really looked at you. It was then that he saw the bags under your eyes, the puffiness, the redness, and he saw the pain in your eyes take over the spark of joy. How could he be so blind? You were long gone.

“I’m tired of putting up a happy face in front of everyone. I’m tired of pretending that you’re happy for me. I’m tired of wondering how you can watch me walk the red carpets alone while you’re away in some country filming a movie. I’m tired of comparing and wishing for you to become more available to me. I’ve been supporting you since day one and you couldn’t even do the same for me.” You cried heavily.

“Is that how you really feel? I brag about you all the time to my friends whenever I see you strutting on the runway or walking on the red carpet with your castmates.” He said softly.

“That’s different, T.” You sighed heavily and stood up. “That’s different.”

“I wanted you there with me.” You sniffed.

“I am-”

“No! You’re not! You’re never here for me!” You shouted angrily as hot tears streamed down your face. “You left me to fight my own battles. You left me to fend for myself. You left me to defend you when many people said awful shit about you.”

“Who said I needed defending?” He asked, stubbornly. “No one did.”

“No one asked me to defend you, but I did it because I loved you! Don’t you get it?! I made sure to paint a good picture of you in front of everyone because I loved you!” You cried.

“I’m tired of pretending that I’m okay. I’m tired of hoping that the old Timothée I fell in love with will come back to me. I’m tired of asking myself when we’ll finally get married. I’m tired of defending you. I’m tired of proving to other people that we’re very much in love even though we haven’t had a picture in years.”

Timothée looked at you as tears streamed down his face. He was so blind to it all. He kept quiet as he listened to you.

“Prolonging this relationship is a huge mistake.” You confessed sadly. “I feel so sorry for myself because I look delusional, thinking you’ll back me up for once. Thinking maybe you’ll surprise me on the red carpet, but no. It’s always been your projects over mine.”

“Our friends are married and they have families now and I’m sick and tired of being left behind. I feel like I wasted years of my life just for this relationship to work, hoping every year that maybe things will change. I guess I never learned my lesson. I just wanted you to see me, but you never looked at me at all. I just wished you would look at me with the same passionate look you would give to the crowd. It’s hard to admit that you love them more than you love me.”

“The fucked up part is I can’t seem to hate you because I love you too much to do so. It breaks my own heart to decide not to be with you anymore.” You cried. “All these years waiting for you to just leave me is tiring. I’m leaving instead. My world revolved around you and it’s time that it stops.”

“I gave you a chance multiple times. You never did anything for me. You never said anything. You never lost anything. You never even risked one day of filming just to come see me. Your loyalty lies with your job and if it wasn’t clear to me before, it’s crystal clear for me now. I’m sorry for not being good enough.” You sobbed. You looked down at the promise ring sitting on your ring finger for the past ten years. You looked at him and walked towards him. You took off the ring, grabbed his hand and placed it on his palm. “Give it to the next girl you promise to marry. Just follow through with it this time.”

“Y/N, the only girl I want to marry is you.” Timothée cried. “I was going to propose tonight.”

Both of you sobbed as you looked at each other with very different emotions. You looked at him with tired eyes and in defeat. He looked at you with forlorn and hope; he hoped you would change his mind, but he knew deep down that you were tired of choosing him all the time. He knew you were going to choose yourself now.

“You’re so unfair, T. If you said that years ago, you knew I would’ve said yes even before you knelt down and showed me the ring. An engagement ring isn’t a band-aid for a broken mirror. If I said yes now, we’d still be broken; I’d still be broken while you’ll be out chasing the world as I’d chase after you.”

“I love you, Y/N.” Timothée cried. “I really do. I hope you know that.”

“I love you too and I’m afraid I always will, but I have to go.” You sighed heavily as you wiped your tears with your hands. Timothée pulled you in for a tight hug and you did the same.

News of your break up with Timothée was all over social media. You decided not to say anything. You were too tired of fending for your relationship on behalf of you and Timothée for years. It was his time to return the favor.

#timothee chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #timothee fanfic #timothee chalamet fanfic

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