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bucksfucks · 4 years ago

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messing with a gemini | chris evans

gif credit.

SUMMARY || chris is a gemini, so you should expect nothing less than snide remarks, witty charm, and mind-blowing sex.

PAIRING || chris evans x reader

WORD COUNT || 1,902 words

WARNINGS || banter, teasing, cocky!chris, definite praise kink, light choking kink, chris goes down on the reader, fingering, oral, drinking, unprotected sex, both smutty, soft, and teasing — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

NOTES || mmmmgmmgmgmgmgmg yeah

The sound of the door shutting can only mean one thing.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” you greet him, not turning around to face him.

“Sweetheart if you don’t learn to shut that pretty little mouth of yours, I’ll do it for you.”

Another snide remark, another sly smirk, and another roll of your eyes as Chris slides past you with a cup of tea in his hands.

“You couldn’t make me if you tried.” You spat back, narrowing your eyes at him as you watched him quirk an eyebrow; intrigued at your comment.

“Is that a challenge? Because you know I never back down from you.” He replies cooly, folding his arms over his chest before taking a sip of his hot drink.

“Ah yes, how could I forget,” you feign enthusiasm, “you’re a Gemini.” You deadpan and now it’s his turn to roll his eyes.

He kicks his foot off the wall behind him, “you didn’t answer my question, sweetheart.” He winks, brushing past your shoulder as you scoff.

He’s gonna out of your sight before you have the chance to say anything else, letting out an exasperated sigh as you will yourself to calm down.

“Hey!” Someone shouts through the trailer door, “can you run down to makeup for backup?” You don’t get to answer.

“Thanks!”

Before whoever it was slammed the door shut and you let out another frustrated groan.

You knew what you signed up for, you weren’t head of makeup. You weren’t even assistant head. No, you were one of the nobodies.

Someone they hire to run from one end of set to the other only to get yelled at for not having enough brushes or the right shade of a palette.

It was almost poetic.

“Hey, I’m here, what did you guys need?” You ask as you put on a fake smile and enter the makeup trailer.

The trailer where Chris is sat getting his hair done.

Your blood boiled, wasn’t he supposed to be a charmer? A sweetheart? Maybe he was just really getting into character?

“Can you sweep the floor and make sure there’s no more hair?”

You had to physically fight the urge to drop your face, “sure!”

You grabbed the broom, feeling embarrassed as you quietly sunk into the background as you felt Chris’ eyes on you.

A few medial, mind numbing tasks later and it was closing in on 2am. Your notification-less phone screen lit up the empty trailer you were left to clean up.

Not that you really minded.

You find solace in the only time of the day where things seem to slow down. You also didn’t hate being alone where you could listen to music and clean hairbrushes.

“So this is what you do after we cut.” The sound of Chris’ laugh startles you as you let out a soft yelp.

He has a soft smile on his face, almost unrecognizable without his beard.

“I thought I was alone,” you reply meekly, turning the volume lower on your phone as Chris shook his head.

“Oh, I know,” he laughs, “I don’t think anyone would be belting out Queen like that if they didn’t think they were alone.”

Once again, you feel embarrassed in front of him, shaking your head.

“Whatever,” you try to brush it off. “Did you need something?” You ask as he shakes his head.

“I was just checkin’ in on you.” He replies and you’re a little taken aback.

“Oh, well thanks, but I’m okay. Just finishing up cleaning.” You said with a tight lipped smile and a nod of your head.

Chris stands there for a second, shoving his hands into his pockets as he looks over his shoulder before clearing his throat.

“Well uh, some of the cast and crew are havin’ some drinks and pizza later, if you wanted to tag along.”

The invite makes your stomach drop into your lower belly as you open your mouth.

You have to take a moment to formulate the words.

“It’s getting pretty late, I think I’m just gonna head back to my hotel room. Parties aren’t really my thing.” You joke, lightening the mood as Chris cracks a smile.

“Sure thing, sweetheart. The invites always there,” he says before turning on his heels and leaving you to yourself.

Chris Evans was an enigma that you didn’t think you’d ever crack.

The soft knock at your door caused your neck to snap in its direction, uncrossing your legs as you slid off the too big hotel bed and looked through the peep hole.

It was hard to make out the figure, but it looked like...no, it couldn’t be.

“Chris?” His name slipped through your lips as you opened the door.

He beamed a smile as he held up a case of beer and box of pizza.

“Turns out, parties aren’t my thing either.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you moved aside to let him in.

“And you decided that coming to my room at,” you had to check the time, “3:16 in the morning was the logical thing to do?”

He set everything down on the coffee table before hopping onto your bed, “yup.”

You had to roll your eyes as you laughed, closing and locking the door as you stepped in front of him.

“C’mon kid,” oh, why did that do something to you?

“You work hard every day of the week, you deserve one night to not care about anything.” His words were gentle as he stood up to grab a beer.

“Want one?” He asked, holding a beer up as you replayed his words.

“Sure,” he was right, you do deserve a break.

You both took a seat on the small, uncomfortable couch in the room as you took a sip. Well, it was beer.

“So,” you broke the silence, “the Chris Evans doesn’t like parties?” You quirked an amused eyebrow as he laughed.

“Maybe I wanted to escape to see you, is that so bad?” He said, licking his bottom lip; not breaking eye contact.

You shook your head, “such a fucking Gemini,” you mumble as Chris smirks.

“What did I say about that smart mouth of yours?” He eggs you on, leaning forward and giving your knee a squeeze.

“I don’t remember.” You bite back, feeling your heart kicking in your chest as you feel his breath fanning over your face.

“Maybe I should teach you a lesson or two then, hmm?” He purrs, running his free hand up your neck and resting it there.

“I dare you,” you mumble, transfixed on the feeling of his warm hands on you.

The dominos fall and Chris’ lips are meshed with yours, the faint taste of beer on them as you wrap your fingers in the collar of his shirt.

“You know I never back down from a challenge,” he murmurs against your lips before taking you by the hand and leading you to the bed.

He pushes you onto it, the sheets around you as the weight of Chris’ body pushed you further into it.

“Ah ah,” he tsks when you let out a soft moan, “I thought I told you to keep quiet for me.”

You swallow thickly, throat dry and lips parted as you gasp when you can feel the weight of him between your hips.

“Can you do that for me, sweetheart? Can you be a good girl?” He purrs, absolutely knowing what it does to you as you writhe under him.

“Good,” he hums. “Now let’s see how good you are when I’m between your legs makin’ then shake.”

His wink doesn’t go unnoticed by you as your clothes are shed, his coming off until he’s left in nothing but his boxers.

There’s little left to the imagination, the outline of his cock clear as he wraps his hands around your ankles and tugs you down to the end of the bed.

You yelp, sliding off the pillows as he sinks to his knees, hungry eyes just waiting to taste you.

“Look at you,” he cooes, “drippin’ at the thought of me between your thighs?” He mocks, cocking his head to side as he keeps your legs open.

Chaste kisses are pressed to your inner thighs, gently as you try to stop the plea’s that are begging to slip past your mouth.

“You’re bein’ so patient for me too, good girl.” He praises, he breath over your core is hot as you grab for his hair.

The feeling of his tongue makes you moan and squeeze your legs around his head.

“Mmm,” he hums, “that good already?”

If he wasn’t buried between your legs you might’ve, just might’ve had the courage to roll your eyes.

His fingers tease your entrance as his mouth works over your clit.

There’s no holding back now.

You don’t care how loud you’re being, giving into the sensation as he works you to the edge, your legs shaking.

“You wanna come, don’t you, pretty girl?” Yes, God, yes.

“Well that’s too bad,” he taunts making you let out a whine.

“Not until I’m buried deep ‘side of you,” he grunts, quickly stripping off the rest of his clothes until he’s crawling back over you with a condom in his hand.

You’re still dizzy, slightly angry from your denied orgasm, but wanting nothing more than to feel him stretching you out.

“You think you’re ready for my cock,” he smirks teasingly as you feel him at your entrance.

You whine, bringing his lips to your but he stops you at the last second.

“Uh uh baby, I wanna hear you beg for it.” He taunts, nose brushing yours.

“Fuck,” you whimper, “please, just fuck me.” You beg, eyes meeting his.

That’s all he needs before he’s slowly sinking into you, watching your face contort in immeasurable pleasure.

“Feel so fuckin’ good,” he grunts, “so tight and warm.”

Your fingers dig into his speckled back, finding your ground as you dig into the soft skin as he thrusts into you.

Suddenly, the only think you can think about is how good this feels.

“My pretty girl,” he whispers, bending your one leg at the knee to get a deeper angle.

“Takin’ my cock so goddamn well,” he grunts, “gonna make me come.”

His words send a shiver down your spine as your walls flutter around him. He drops on one of his elbows, getting impossibly close to you.

“You’re gonna come too, aren’t you, sweetheart?” He teases, lips on yours swallowing every moan before you feel a hand around your throat.

“Look at me when you come, baby,” he purrs, applying just the slightest amount of pressure to the column of your throat.

“Wanna see you come for me,” he smirks, his thrusts getting harsher before you feel yourself giving into your orgasm.

Your body shakes as your mouth falls open, his name a breathy moan before you feel his hips stuttering.

He sounds exhausted after he spills inside of you, tumbling on top of you as you’re left in sweaty silence as you’re left with nothing to do but run your fingers through his dampened hair.

“Gemini or not, you’re what made me weak in the knees, sweetheart.” Chris whispers, eyes on yours as you feel a flutter in your heart.

“There’s somethin’ about you that I won’t ever grow tired of, that I’m sure about.”

#chris evans smut #chris evans x reader smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans headcanons #chris evans headcanon #chris evans oneshot #chris evans one shot #chris evans fanfics #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fic #bucksfucks writes — [♡] ;

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pastelwitchling · 3 years ago

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Somebody to You (1/4)

Chapter 1. Hidden Feelings

Alex Manes is Michael's best friend in the entire world. His platonic soulmate, in fact. That's why, when Michael discovers that Alex is in love with him, he panics. Rather than risk the loss of his friendship, Michael begs his brother Max to date Alex instead, and divert his affections. Though hesitant at first, Max agrees for the sake of helping his brother. But what happens when Max realizes that there is more to Alex than he first thought? Romance ensues, and as Max and Alex become closer, Max realizes that what had started as a favor to Michael has turned all too real. The only problem is that Michael never expected Max to actually fall in love. Can Max stay with Alex knowing that their beginning is based on the worst kind of betrayal?

High school was hard enough without your best friend falling in love with you.

Not that there was anything wrong with Alex Manes, guys and girls both had to admit he was pretty to look at, but he was Michael’s best friend. When he’d first come out to him last year, Michael had very pointedly not teased the question, You don’t have a crush on me, do you?

Now, he didn’t know whether or not that had been the right move. If he’d asked, would Alex have blushed and given himself away? Or would he have been insulted? Or would he have rolled his eyes at the question like he did any time Michael said something stupid?

Maybe if he’d asked, he wouldn’t have found out by accidentally eavesdropping on Alex’s private conversation with Liz. Maybe he wouldn’t have heard Alex’s tears, heard his voice as strung out as it had been, fueled by exhaustion and fear.

“What if he doesn’t say no?” Liz tried, the words more a plea than an actual consideration to Michael’s ears. He could hear her desperate desire for her own words to be true, and the resignation in the knowledge that they weren’t. “What if he likes you back?”

“He won’t,” Alex cried, and made Michael’s grip on the music room door handle tighten. “He’ll never talk to me again.”

“Michael loves you,” Liz insisted. “He’ll love you even if you want something more. Look,” she was speaking more quickly now, “maybe if you tell him, you’ll feel better. Right? That’s why you’re crying, isn’t it? It’s just another huge weight on your shoulders, but if he knows that you’ve loved him since middle school, then – then maybe at least he’ll stop rubbing his one-night stands in your face!”

She sounded furious at the mention of it. Michael thought about the last blonde, nameless girl he’d had two nights ago, the way he’d latched to Alex’s back the next day, eager to tell him all about it. The way Alex, the dark circles around his eyes darker for reasons other than the eyeliner, had shrugged him off and murmured some excuse about getting to class.

Shame swelled in his chest until he realized he had nothing to be guilty for. He hadn’t known Alex had feelings for him!

Oh god, he realized. Alex had feelings for him. His best friend – no, best friend wasn’t enough to describe what Alex was. His soulmate, the very half of his heart, wanted more than friendship from him.

He swallowed, about to walk away. He shouldn’t be hearing any of this. He shouldn’t know any of it. Then –

“No,” Alex said. “No, I’m just – I’m just tired.” He sniffled, and Michael imagined him roughly wiping his face with his sleeves. “I don’t want him to know.”

“Alex –”

“No, Liz,” he said more sternly, more afraid. “I don’t want him to know. You . . . when I told you, you promised you’d never tell him. You’re not going to –”

“No,” she breathed, appalled. “No, of course not. I’d never do that.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “I just . . . please, you can’t say stuff like that. It – I can’t – if he finds out –”

“Hey,” Liz said softly. “He won’t.”

“I can’t lose him,” he said and sniffled. “I’m just . . . upset because of my dad. The last thing I want is for Michael to leave me because of a stupid crush.”

A moment’s pause, then Liz tried, “Alex . . . it’s more than a crush.”

“Please,” Alex pleaded. “Don’t tell him. I never want him to know.”

“Okay,” Liz said, and Michael heard shuffling. He dared peek into the room and saw Alex there alongside the piano, his back to the door, Liz’s arms around his shoulders. Her eyes were closed, so she didn’t see Michael. “I promise, I’ll never tell him.”

Alex hugged her waist, and his body sagged with exhaustion against her. He hummed, but his voice waivered, like he was trying not to cry again.

Michael had left then, replaying everything he’d heard in his head. Alex liked him. No, Alex more than liked him. What was he supposed to do with that?

This wasn’t like finding out the local gay guy had fantasies about him. This was finding out the guy he trusted more than anybody, the guy he cherished more than anybody, had feelings for him. It felt like a threat to their friendship.

Michael slumped against the driver’s side of his truck, his backpack barely hanging off one hand. This was Alex. What was he supposed to do?

Alex liked him. His response? He clenched his jaw. No fucking way. He didn’t want to be in a relationship with Alex. It was Alex. It wasn’t that he couldn’t see holding his hand and going on dates with him and he’d seen him in the locker rooms. It was no wonder the girls here had had a memorial when they’d found out the hot emo musician only wanted men . . .

It didn’t matter. He didn’t want anything with Alex. He’d had too many one-night stands and too many nameless, faceless nobodies to know that love was only something that existed in his brother’s books. Getting intimate with someone meant risking losing them.

He clenched his fists. He would’ve rather died than lose Alex. He opened his truck door and climbed inside. He gripped his steering wheel tightly, unable to start it for a good minute as an unidentified dread settled in the bottom of his chest and climbed up through his heart.

When he parked in front of the junkyard where old man Sanders let him stay, and he found his brother Max sitting in a lawn chair, he understood what the dread was. It was the same thing he’d heard in Alex’s voice when it seemed like Liz might let his feelings for him slip; Raw fear.

As he stepped out, millions of worst-case scenarios swarmed his mind. What if Alex decided to tell him the truth? What if he blurted it one day in a fight? What if they were so happy that Alex got the courage to kiss him? What if things ended terribly and they lost each other?

Max raised a brow at him. “You look like hell. What happened?”

Michael could only shake his head as he took the seat opposite Max. He was due to work in half an hour, but sometimes Sanders let him rest up if he’d had a long day. And those last few minutes overhearing what he had in the music room had officially made this the longest day ever.

“Tell me something,” he sighed, leaning his head back and not at all paying attention to the dotted white clouds across the blue sky. “Anything.”

“Okay?” Max said more in the form of a question. “I – uh – saw Liz today. In the music room. With Alex.”

He groaned. “Anything else.”

Max nudged his knee with the back of his hand. “Hey, what’s wrong with you? You look like someone just smashed your guitar.”

My guitar. The guitar that Alex had given him because Michael had offhandedly mentioned once that music helped ease the noise in his mind. How had he not known then? Alex had paid such special attention to him. He had read his mind and known what his heart had wanted and given it to him when no one else bothered to look past the excitement of getting to rebel under the bleachers with the genius trailer trash.

How had he not known?

“I changed my mind,” he said. “Don’t speak. Just let me wallow.”

“Huh,” Max said. “Isobel’s been a fortress since she joined the Spring Dance committee, and you’re busy falling into your own despair for whatever reason.” He pulled a little brown leather notebook out of his back pocket. “Do any of my siblings have time for me?”

“I’m not falling into anything,” Michael grumbled. ��Why do you have to get so poetic about . . . every . . . damn . . .” he trailed off, his eyes narrowing at the notebook. “Alex has that same notebook.”

Max hummed noncommittally, leaning back in his seat again and resting the notebook on his lap as he began doodling a rose. “Different colors though,” he said. “His is black. They got mixed up last week when he and I bumped into each other in the school hallway.”

An idea formed, somewhere in the back of his mind. Like water on ink; something definitely there, but unreadable. He leaned back again, wiping whatever the itch was from his eye.

“I don’t want to think about Alex right now,” he muttered, though even as he said it, his thoughts taunted him. Alex was all he could think about right now.

“Whoa,” Max blinked. Even he knew how much Alex and Michael treasured each other. Michael had never said he didn’t want to do something where Alex was concerned. “You guys have a fight or something?”

“No,” Michael said, though a fight might’ve been easier to deal with. “I found out . . . I heard Liz say . . .” He huffed, closing his eyes. He blurted. “Alex is in love with me.”

Silence. Michael opened his eyes and saw Max’s expression completely unsurprised. He looked like he was waiting for Michael to get to the point.

He straightened. “Are you kidding me? You really knew?”

Max scoffed. “You really didn’t?”

“No!” he gaped and stood. “He’s my best friend, why would I think he was in love with me?!”

“Because he’s your best friend.”

“So?!”

“So!” Max said like it was obvious. “Alex hates people! Liz and Kyle are his only friends, he barely tolerates me and Isobel, and Rosa Ortecho swears he hissed at her once!” He huffed a disbelieving chuckle. “Before you came along, Liz told me he never said two words to anybody he hadn’t known since before his mom left. You want to take a guess as to why he warmed up to you so quickly?”

Michael didn’t answer. Max grabbed his arm. “And for the love of god, stop pacing, you’re making me nauseous.”

He tugged him down onto the lawn chair, and Michael sagged against it. He stared into the distance, lost in his memories of his first meeting with Alex. Alex had been bullied, pushed into a tree and made fun of for stares and feelings he had yet to understand himself. Then Michael had jumped between him and the bullies, waving a tree branch, screaming at them to get away or he would kill them.

It had been the wildness of his eyes and words, wildness he’d gained from years with monsters for parents, that had unnerved them in the end. Alex had taken his offered hand with wide eyes then, and timidly asked, “You’re not scared of me?”

Michael had known then that this twelve-year-old had been told too often that he was something unnatural, something wrong, and was expecting it from someone else now. So he’d looked Alex over, as if checking for bruises, and rested the branch on his shoulder like it had been a bat.

He’d grinned and said, “No fangs or a tail. You look fine to me!”

After that moment, Alex had followed him everywhere, his eyes never anything less than adoring.

Michael shut his eyes. How could he have not known?

A buzzing against his thigh snapped him out of his thoughts, and he pulled his phone out of his pocket. Alex was calling.

“Shit,” he leapt to his feet, holding the phone at a distance as if afraid that Alex could somehow see him through the camera. “Shit shit shit.”

“What?” Max followed and his shoulders slumped at the sight of Alex’s name. “Dude, just answer. He doesn’t know you know, remember?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Yeah, right, yeah.”

“It’s still just Alex.”

“Just Alex,” he repeated. “It’s just Alex.” He answered the call, held the phone to his ear, and all but yelled, “Hey!” He winced at himself and Max rolled his eyes.

“Hey?” Alex asked, laughter in his voice. He didn’t sound like he’d just been crying his eyes out at all. Then it hit Michael. Alex was abused. He was used to hiding his scars. “Why’re you screaming?”

“I’m not!” he said, then adjusted his volume with a clear of his throat. “I’m – uh – I’m not. What’s up?”

He loves me. He loves me, he loves me, he loves me.

Michael, so caught in the thought, completely missed what Alex had asked him. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry,” he grit out, “say that again?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, is the auto shop really busy right now?” Alex asked like he knew the answer. “Pay attention, Guerin, this is important!”

Of course, Michael had ditched time and time again because they hardly had any cars in around now, and all Sanders did when he was an hour late was yell and grumble, then give him and Alex an extra plate of whatever he’d had for lunch.

“I asked what time you were coming to my gig tonight,” he said, a little more hesitantly. When Michael didn’t answer, he cleared his throat. “At the – uh – the Wild Pony? Just so I can save you a seat.”

Michael let his hand with the phone fall, his shoulders slumped. For years, he’d owed that nervous stammer in Alex’s voice, the way he went from confident to shy with just a second of Michael’s silence, to nerves about his gigs. Now he speculated it was because of something else.

Damn it. He wished he’d never known about Alex’s feelings. He wished he could unhear everything.

He realized Alex was talking again, and he held the phone to his ear.

“If you can’t make it,” he was saying, “I get it, I just need to know for the seats, you know?”

Michael had never canceled on Alex before, but Alex was a little sensitive where his music was concerned. Michael assumed it was because he had a father and brothers who belittled what he did every day, no matter how often Michael told him he loved his songs.

He gripped the phone tightly. He wondered what Alex would do if he canceled on him now.

“Michael,” Max mouthed, “talk to him.”

“Guerin,” Alex huffed a laugh. It sounded forced. “Dude, it’s fine. It’s one gig, I think our friendship will survive.”

Will it? Michael feared. Will it survive this, Alex? Will it survive feelings that friends shouldn’t have for each other? Will it survive if I can’t help but look into the double meaning of every word you say now?

He felt oddly frustrated with Alex, like this was his fault somehow. Like he was singlehandedly destroying everything they’ve ever had by wanting more.

“Is it another gig?” Max asked, nudging his elbow. “Will Liz be there? Ask him if Liz will be there.”

Michael rolled his eyes, about to snap at his brother that this was not the time. Couldn’t he see that Michael was suffering some emotional turmoil over here?

“Guerin,” Alex tried again. “Are you there?” He heard a sigh, and Alex mumbled, “Is the reception bad?”

Michael hated this. He was starting to scare Alex, and it was the very last thing he wanted to do. Max was still asking about Liz, his notebook, just like Alex’s but a different color, in his hand, and Michael clenched his jaw. Max liked Liz, but it would be so much easier for everyone if . . . if . . .

His eyes widened. The idea that had begun to sink below the depths of his mind surfaced now. Before he could make it out completely, he found himself saying, “Sorry, hang on a second, babe, my brother keeps trying to talk to me.”

“Oh!” relief flooded Alex’s voice and he chuckled breathlessly. It sounded so much more real, and that hurt Michael all the more. “Yeah, sure! God, Michael, you freaked me out a second there. Yeah, take your time.”

Michael covered the speaker on his phone and told Max quietly, “I need you to come to Alex’s gig with me.”

Max’s eyes widened. “Liz will be there?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Michael said. “I need you to ask out Alex.”

Max stared a moment, then, “What?”

Michael held up a finger to his brother and brightened his tone when he told Alex, “Hey, Alex, can I bring Max to your gig tonight?”

“W-wait,” Max said, “Michael, what’d you mean, ask out Alex? Was that a joke?”

Michael ignored him as Alex scoffed. “Sure. But you’re definitely coming, right? Because I was totally lying before. If you don’t make it, I’ll never talk to you again.”

Michael smiled and almost said, Would I ever not show up for you?, realized how Alex might take it, and diverted at the last second.

“Uh – yeah – see you tonight, then.”

It was awkward and unnatural for them, but Alex hardly seemed to notice, lost in his own happiness, as he told Michael he’d see him tonight, and hung up.

He barely met Max’s dark eyes and crossed arms when Max said, “No.”

“Hear me out –”

“If your next sentence doesn’t end with, ‘and then everyone will laugh, and it’ll totally take the edge off,’ I don’t want to hear it.”

“One date!” he begged, following Max back to the chairs and their backpacks. “Just one! Consider it a birthday present to me! For the next five years – no, ten years!”

“This isn’t a favor, Michael!” Max argued. “I’m not going to ask your best friend out just so you can avoid having to talk about this!”

“But –”

“Besides,” Max said, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder, “I’m not gay or bisexual or pansexual or anything. He’d smell a fake a mile away.”

“You’d totally pass for bisexual!” Michael argued. “Look at you” – he tapped Max’s arms, his chest, his notebook – “you have the whole muscly jock with a tender heart thing going on, come on!”

Max stared. “Do you hear yourself?”

“Max,” he urged. “I need you to do this one thing for me! I’d do it for you!”

“You wouldn’t have to,” Max said. “I don’t pass off people who like me to my brother like a freaking torch.”

Michael winced, and Max sighed, his expression softening. “And I like Liz, remember?”

“Then this’ll be the perfect in for you,” he insisted. “Getting close to Alex means getting close to Liz. Then, in – in a month, just until the Spring Dance, you can smooth your way to Liz, and Alex will know the breakup is coming.”

Michael swallowed thickly before he said, “I know him. He hates being left behind, so he’ll end things first.”

Max shook his head. “And he’ll be heartbroken. Assuming your plan works. Is that what you want, Michael?”

Michael hesitated, then, “It’ll just break for a minute.” He added quickly, “Th-then I’ll come in, and he won’t want to date your brother, so he’ll know we’re better off as friends.”

He pursed his lips a moment, then walked past him. “You’re crazy.”

Michael clenched his jaw and blocked Max’s path. “I can’t date Alex,” he said fiercely. “I can’t.”

“He doesn’t know you overheard anything,” Max told him, not unkindly. “Can’t you just . . . play along?”

Michael shook his head, his fists tight at his side. “It’ll come out,” he said. “I know it will. Please, Max, I . . . I can’t lose him. I need you.”

Those were the words, Michael knew, that Max could never say no to. Those were the words that he and Isobel used only in extreme cases, when guilt for taking advantage of their brother’s good heart had to be put aside to fix whatever had happened. Michael hated using them, had used them only once before in his life, but knew he had to use them again now.

Max sighed and looked away, something like resignation settling in the slump of his shoulders. A moment’s pause, then – “Alex hates me.”

“No,” Michael breathed, already smiling despite the pinch in his chest that he would’ve rather not thought about. “You said it yourself, he barely tolerates you.” He took Max’s journal and held it up. “And if anyone can make something into something more, it’s a writer.”

Max wasn’t good at being a boyfriend. Not that he’d ever been anyone’s boyfriend, but that was the problem. He had no idea how to flirt or tease or ask anyone out. It was why he’d spent the better part of the last year pining after Liz Ortecho, stumbling through his hellos.

Now, for whatever reason, he was prepping himself to ask out someone for the first time in his life. And it was Liz’s best friend. The things he did for his siblings . . .

As Michael parked his truck outside the Wild Pony, Max thought about the few times he’d seen Alex around town. He was reminded of the Greek mythology stories he loved reading; of Hades, Lord of the Underworld, and how sunlight couldn’t touch him. He was nothing like his brothers who were all on one sports team or another. Who seemed to have no problem being popular.

Though none of them, he knew, were like Alex. The dark prince, the one everyone wanted to know for his mystery, but the one who didn’t want anyone near him. The one people gave up on because he was too difficult to approach.

You had to have an in. And, Max supposed, Michael was his in.

“Remember,” Michael was telling him as they left the truck. “His favorite song is Welcome to the Black Parade, don’t get him a beer until after his set, and whatever you do, do not insult Star Wars. He didn’t talk to Valenti for two days when he thought there were Jedis in Star Trek.”

Max started to laugh, saw that Michael was watching him expectantly, and huffed. “Would you calm down? I’m the one who gets to worry here. There’s no way Alex will let me come within three feet of him.”

“I already told you,” Michael said. “You have me. You just think about being your usual charming self –”

“Is that supposed to be another joke?”

“—And Alex will be happy to have you.”

Michael stopped abruptly just as they reached the doors. He turned to Max and pointed a warning finger. “Just don’t kiss him.”

Max blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t kiss him,” he repeated seriously. “That’s . . . it’s too far. He deserves to be kissed by someone who . . . really wants to kiss him.” He shook the thought out of his head. “Just – just don’t kiss him.”

“I won’t kiss him,” Max held his hands up. “I don’t want to anyway.”

“And don’t talk that way around him,” Michael grit out. “Anyone would be lucky to have Alex.”

Max looked to the skies for aid. “Then you date him!”

“I can’t,” was all Michael said, and tugged on Max’s arm. “Come on, you’ll do great.”

The Wild Pony doors opened to chatter and cowboys and clanking drinks. Max heaved a sigh, tapping his fingers on his thigh. He could do this. He could do this.

Michael patted his back and went on ahead. Max followed, thinking of what he’d say to Alex when he saw him.

He considered, “What’s up?”, “How’s it hanging?”, “‘Sup, bro!”, and winced at himself. He needed more time to think of something, but he didn’t have any. He spotted Liz first, and Kyle and Alex beside her. Liz and Kyle were laughing about something, but Alex was focused on his music sheets, his fingers running over the keys as if making sure he knew the song by heart.

Right then, Max realized what a terrible idea this was.

“Michael,” he tried, reaching for his brother’s shoulder. “I – I think we should talk about this –”

“Alex!” Michael called, and went ahead. Max was left stumbling behind him.

Alex glanced up and smiled at the sight of Michael. “Hey! I saved you a seat up front!”

Michael looked like he was going to wrap an arm around his shoulders like he usually did, then his smile dimmed and he cleared his throat, patting Alex’s arm in the end.

“Duh, buddy,” he said. “What are friends for?”

Alex glanced down for a fraction of a second before his smile returned and he pulled Michael to behind the keyboard to look at his song. It was like Max wasn’t there.

Michael seemed to notice that, too. He raised his brows pointedly at Max, and Max cleared his throat, stepped forward, and said, “H-hey, Alex.”

Alex looked up like he thought he heard someone talk to him, and his eyes met Max’s. His brows furrowed and he pressed his lips together, clearly confused as to why Michael’s brother was talking to him.

“Hi,” he murmured. “So, Guerin, look at this, I used the lyrics you came up with yesterday.”

“Uh –” Michael barely glanced at the page. “Hope you don’t mind that I brought Max,” he said, pulling Max forward. “He really wanted to hear you sing.”

Alex narrowed his eyes at Max. “If he’s here to, like, make fun of me or something –”

“No,” Max said at once. “No, I – I really do . . . like . . . music.”

Alex stared a moment. Then he looked away, uncomfortable, and took Michael’s hand. He muttered, “Is he coming with us for ice cream after?”

Michael chuckled and subtly removed his hand from Alex’s. Max could see the flash of hurt in Alex’s eyes before it was gone, and he thought he might’ve imagined it.

“We’ll see,” Michael said, “about the ice cream, okay?”

Alex scoffed and bumped their shoulders. “Yeah, okay. The day Michael Guerin says no to ice cream is the day Kyle Valenti gets into med school.”

“Hey!” Kyle argued.

“I’m kidding!” Alex laughed. “I knew you were listening in, you freak!”

Kyle pulled Alex to him, and Michael kept laughing until he whipped around to face Max, then his smile fell away and he hissed, “Work with me here!”

“I’m trying,” Max hissed back. “I am making him uncomfortable, Michael.”

“He’s just not used to you talking to him,” he whispered. “Just – just – just . . . move in there!”

He pushed Max forward, and Max nearly stumbled into Alex’s keyboard. Alex looked startled.

“Max,” Liz blinked, “are you okay?”

Kyle tilted his head. “You drunk already, dude?”

“Uh . . .” Max started, and pointed at the keys. “I like your piano.”

Alex raised a brow. “It’s actually not mine. It belongs to the bar.”

“Oh.” Max nodded. “W-Well, you look really cool. I wish I could play the piano, so that’s – that’s really cool.”

“Thanks?”

“Can I – uh – can I buy you a beer? After your set?”

His face burned as Alex stared. Then, while still watching Max apprehensively, Alex called, “Guerin?”

Michael didn’t answer. Max turned to find that he’d started talking up the first blonde he’d found. Asshole, he thought, clearly looking for any excuse to leave him alone with his best friend.

He looked back at Alex, and saw that he was watching Michael, too. His shoulders had fallen, and his brows pinched, but there was no surprise in his face. He was so used to Michael ignoring him when a better offer came along.

He knew he should say something, though he didn’t know what. If Alex thought of Michael as nothing but a friend, this wouldn’t have hurt him.

Liz then suddenly wrapped her arms around Alex’s waist, tighter and tighter until he burst into laughter. Kyle picked up the music sheets and complained why Alex never played any heavy metal.

“You dress like you play it,” he said, “is all I’m saying!”

They were clearly trying to distract him from whatever Michael was doing. Max scratched the back of his head, not knowing what to do himself.

When the show started, Michael was already in his seat, pulling Max to sit down beside him. Liz clapped the loudest and Kyle offered a thumbs up. Michael kept his arms crossed, as if afraid anything he did would be taken the wrong way. Max could see Alex’s momentary confusion before Mimi DeLuca announced his song.

Max was looking everywhere, namely at Liz, until Michael nudged his side with his elbow, and Alex started playing. As the first few notes fell together like a soothing waterfall, Max started. He looked to Alex, eyes wide. This was his music? He didn’t know why, but he’d imagined, like Kyle had teased, heavy metal or I-hate-everything ballads. But this . . .

Not thirty seconds in, Max’s eyes had fallen shut.

He had no idea how it had happened. One second, he was in a wooden chair at a bar where most of the crowd was laughing and talking over the music. The next, he found himself in a forest, surrounded by pine trees, with a clear lake behind him.

When Alex started to sing – who knew he had such a smooth voice? – Max then felt the breeze of a desert night across his cheeks, the stars and full moon bright above, the rest of the world turned to peaceful quiet.

The further along Alex got in his song, the more Max’s fingers itched to write. He couldn’t remember the last time ideas poured into his head like this, the last time he felt his heart swell with the anticipation of creating something.

This was a song Alex had made up. Had he always had such talent? Max had never been to one of his gig’s before because he’d never been invited. Or he had, and he had been lost in the chattering crowd in the back, not paying attention.

Now, he had to pay attention. He found it impossible to do anything else. When Alex finished, his friends and Michael stood to applaud. Liz screamed, Kyle whistled, and Michael looked prouder than Max had ever seen him of anybody. Max slowly did the same, staring.

Alex looked red-faced, but his eyes shone brightly and he smiled widely, like even he could feel the emotion he’d just created. He stepped down, running a hand through his dark hair, and accepted the bottle of water from Kyle with a thanks.

“Is it over?” he breathed after taking big gulps.

“Yeah,” Kyle laughed, ruffling his hair and messing it up again. “It’s over, buddy.”

“That’s my Alex,” Michael said before he could help it, and Max saw the blush deepen in Alex’s cheeks. Michael seemed to have realized his mistake, and handed a cold beer under the table to Max.

Max hesitated, then held it out for Alex to take.

Alex looked startled, but he was still smiling. “Thanks,” he murmured, accepting the bottle.

“So,” Kyle drummed his hands on the table. “Ice cream to celebrate?”

“Ice cream!” Liz yelled and Alex laughed. He turned to Michael.

“Ice cream?”

“Uh . . .” Michael looked over at the blonde he’d been flirting with. She waved to him from across the bar. Max saw the tick in his jaw, the way his fingers curled to fists under the table, and he knew that the last thing Michael wanted to do was cancel on Alex.

Yet that was what he did.

“Raincheck?” he said, and nudged his chin at the girl. “I think I’m about to live the Rockstar fantasy.”

Liz frowned, disapproving. “But you’re not the Rockstar. Alex is.”

“Well, the girls have to go somewhere,” he shrugged, already walking backwards. “If any guys show up, I’ll send ‘em your way, babe.”

“O-Oh,” Alex��s brows pinched. “Okay . . .”

“Max can take my place!” he offered, and turned his back to them. “See you tomorrow!”

“Jackass,” Kyle muttered.

Max opened his mouth to defend Michael, not knowing what he’d say exactly, when Alex said, “He’s just been really stressed out lately. He – he has all those honor classes. I think he should let off a little steam.”

Liz did not look like she agreed. “Alex . . .”

“It’s okay, really,” he said, then managed a smile that did not reach his eyes. “More for us, right?”

Max stared. “You really care about him, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” Alex said simply, and looked at Michael’s retreating form with a forlorn look. “He’s my best friend.”

Alex seemed distracted. No matter how much Liz and Kyle tried to pull him into conversation, the best he could manage was a smile that even Max could tell was fake. Max felt kind of bad for him. He seemed to really be trying his best to cheer up, but every time a blonde girl or any straight couple passed, his mood dimmed again, like he couldn’t help but wonder what Michael was doing now.

Not knowing what else to do, Max nudged his arm and asked the only question he could think to. “Did you really write that song you sang tonight?”

Alex looked confused as to why Max would ask him anything, and he shrugged a shoulder. “Yeah.”

Max shook his head. “That’s so cool,” he breathed. “It – I mean, it was really good.”

Alex checked to make sure Liz and Kyle were too caught up with each other to hear them, then said, “Okay, what’s your deal, Evans? Why are you suddenly being so nice to me?”

Max frowned. “I’ve always been nice to you.”

Alex raised a skeptical brow. “You’ve always been polite. And that’s only because I’m friends with your brother. I know you’re as scared of me as everyone else.”

“That’s not true!” Max said at once. “I’m scared of everyone!”

Alex blinked, and Max realized too late what he’d said. He blushed and looked down, expecting to be laughed at. When he heard Alex huff an incredulous chuckle, he shut his eyes tight, humiliated.

Then he said, “You? Mr. Perfect?”

“I’m not perfect.”

Alex scrunched his nose. Max was reminded of a kitten. “Aren’t you though? Tall, dark, and handsome,” he nudged his chin at the notebook poking out of Max’s back pocket. “And you write.”

Max smirked. “But you’re all of those things.”

Alex blinked, startled, and Max could’ve sworn he saw a pink tint across his cheeks. Maybe it was just too dark.

Max cleared his throat and went on. “You should know then, better than anyone, that it doesn’t matter how good-looking you are. Sooner or later, some people just give up trying to get close to you.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” Alex scoffed halfheartedly. “Trying to get close to me?”

He wouldn’t look at Max as he said it, as if he was sure that was not what was going on. It made Max’s words come out more smoothly than he’d expected. “Yes. It is.”

Alex stopped, surprised. Max also stopped and faced him. He could see Liz and Kyle stop out of the corner of his eyes, and prayed they couldn’t hear him.

When he spoke, the lie left his lips with a little more trouble. “I like you, Alex. I – I always have. I’ve wanted to talk to you for years, but I . . . I’m not good at . . .” he gestured at his entire self, as if to say everything about him was an obstacle.

“That’s why Michael brought me to the show tonight,” he said. “He knew I’ve wanted to talk to you forever. And I finally got to.”

Alex stared, his expression unreadable. For a terrifying moment, Max wondered if he saw through the charade. Then he said, “You like me?”

He said it more like a statement, a dare. Max could only nod once, gripping his notebook so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Then he saw it. The doubt and suspicion behind Alex’s eyes. Alex sighed and kept walking. “Then let’s see how long,” he said, “until you give up, too.”

Max Evans stared. A lot.

Alex was not new to people watching him. Everyone was usually curious about the youngest of the Manes brothers until they realized just how different and unapproachable Alex was, and then their curiosity’s limit showed.

But the longer Max stared, the more curious he seemed to become. If he wasn’t glancing at Alex’s hair or eyeliner, he was looking at Alex’s bracelets, the rings on his fingers, the drawings on his shirt, his necklace, his nail polish.

Alex felt like he was being studied. It was weird. He wished Michael was here to get Max to stop staring. He wished he could snap at Max to look away, but the guy was like a walking cinnamon roll. It was impossible to get angry at him without feeling bad.

When Alex ordered his Neapolitan ice cream, Max not only insisted on paying for it, but offered a spoon of his own lemon sherbet cup for Alex to try.

“Don’t you have, like, hundreds of other friends you could be spending Friday night with?” Alex finally asked.

“Just my brother and sister,” Max confessed, picking at his sorbet. “Hey, since it’s Saturday tomorrow, y-you want to do something?” Then, as if it was an afterthought, added, “Together.”

“No,” Alex grumbled around his spoon.

“Why not?”

“Because I always spend Saturdays with Michael,” he said, and immediately longed for Michael again. He wondered if he was having a lot more fun than Alex was right now. He tried not to think any harder about where Michael might be.

“Oh,” Max said quietly. Alex glanced at him and saw that he was awkwardly tipping the melted part of his sherbet into his mouth. His lips twitched before he quickly schooled his features.

He thought that would be the end of that conversation, but then Max asked, “If he cancels, you wanna do something?”

Alex frowned. “Why would you think he’d cancel?”

“Just . . .” he shrugged. “He kinda does what he wants, you know?”

“Michael never cancels on me,” Alex bit back.

He nodded, but wouldn’t look at Alex again. “Sorry.”

Alex faltered. There it was, that guilt again. Saturdays belonged to him and Michael. He didn’t want anyone else coming along. He continued quietly eating his ice cream. At least maybe now Max would know to give up this ridiculous chase.

“Well, maybe Sunday then?”

Alex blinked and looked up. “W-What?”

Max was smiling nervously, swirling the contents of his sherbet. “There’s – well, there’s this museum for fine art pieces. I – I heard it’s really cool, I’ve been meaning to go, but Isobel and Michael don’t really . . . like paintings and sculptures.” He shook his head. “Sorry, I know you must not either, I – I don’t know why I thought you would –”

“Paintings?” Alex couldn’t help but ask. “Like Potthast? And Einaudi?”

Max blinked. “Y-You know about them?”

“I mean,” Alex scrunched his shoulders. “I’m not an idiot. I love any artist who pours themselves into their work. It’s” – he blushed – “inspiring.”

Max perked up. “Right?! I’d do anything to be a writer, you know? Seeing people love something as much as I love books, it kind of makes me feel like . . .”

“Like it all has to mean something,” Alex finished, smiling to himself. “I can’t love it this much for nothing.”

Max huffed a laugh. He looked surprised, his cheeks tinted pink. “Yeah! Yeah, exactly . . .”

Neither of them said anything for the next minute. Alex rubbed the sole of his shoe against the pavement and cleared his throat.

“I mean,” he finally said, “I guess . . . if I’m really not doing anything Sunday . . . I can come. B-But only if Michael’s coming, too! I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

Max didn’t say anything, and Alex chanced a glance at him to see he had a small smile.

“What?” he demanded. “I said I’d – I’d come. M-Maybe!”

Max nodded. “Er – can I have your number?”

Don’t do it, Alex thought. Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it. Max was just a stranger.

But he’s not a complete stranger, he reminded himself. He was Michael’s brother, and if Michael was letting him get this close to their tight little group, then he must’ve trusted that Alex was safe around him. And he could trust Michael more than anyone to look after him. He knew he could.

“Yeah,” he said, handing Max his phone without looking at him. He saw Liz and Kyle watch him from across the street where they were twirling around a lamppost. They were tilting their heads and smirking, like they knew something he didn’t.

Alex cleared his throat, and, as if his friends could hear him, added in a mutter, “Whatever.”

Even Max smiled at that.

The next morning, Max woke to knocking on his window. He saw Michael and leapt out of bed, letting him in.

“Can’t you knock like a normal person?”

“Didn’t want to wake anyone else up,” he said. He smelled like he’d spent all of last night drinking, but his curls were wild, like he’d walked for hours in the desert instead of lying in someone’s bed.

He nudged Max aside and sat cross-legged on his bed, shoes and all. “Tell me about Alex,” he said. “How’d last night go?”

Max put his pillows up and slumped against them. “Fine. Good. Okay, I guess. He was mostly quiet the whole time. Did you have to blow him off like that?”

Michael looked down and clenched his jaw. “Don’t remind me,” he grumbled. “I hated not being there. The whole time she was talking in my ear, I was trying not to get her to gag on me. I almost called Alex like fifty times!”

He shook his head, as if eager to be rid of the memory. “Forget me. So he didn’t say anything the entire night?”

“No,” Max said. “He did. I got him talking about music and other artists and stuff. I even asked him out to the museum today, just like you said.”

Michael clapped him on the shoulder, happy. “Yeah? Max Evans, you sly dog!”

Max couldn’t share in his enthusiasm. Would Michael have been so happy if he’d seen the look on Alex’s face last night? The way he defended him even when it was clear that his own heart was breaking?

“Yeah,” Max said, rubbing his eye. “Said no.”

“Well,” Michael shrugged a shoulder, “it’s not like he was going to fall in love with you in a few hours.”

“Actually,” Max said, “he said he might be able to come tomorrow. He can’t today because you guys usually hang out on Saturdays.”

Michael raised a brow. “Oh yeah?” He hummed, studying the blanket. After a long few minutes, he said, “I might . . . just call him and –”

“Er –” Max cut him off, “he was pretty adamant that you would never cancel on him. Even after . . . you kind of already did.”

Michael’s shoulders slumped, and he looked away. He muttered, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, Michael,” Max sighed. “Look, can’t you just talk to him about this? It looks like he really cares about you, I’m sure if you told him what you heard –”

“He’d hate me,” Michael said. “Imagine finding out that the one person you like knows you like them, and it makes them uncomfortable. Would you ever be able to look them in the face again?”

Max pressed the heel of his palm into his eye. “And you’re sure you don’t like Alex like that? At all?”

Michael looked up, holding his brother’s gaze. Max had never seen him so fierce. “I can’t date him, Max.”

“Why not?” Max said. “You don’t think your relationship would survive a breakup?”

“I can’t risk it,” he said. “I won’t.”

Max almost pointed out that that wasn’t an answer, but decided not to. “Fine, well,” he laid back down and turned his back to Michael, trying to fall asleep again. “He’s not going anywhere with me on a Saturday, so see you tomorrow.”

Michael did not leave, or say anything for a good long while. Then Max heard shuffling, and tapping. He peeked an eye open and saw Michael texting. Immediately, the look on Alex’s face last night hit him and he sat up.

“What’re you doing?” he demanded, reaching for Michael’s phone. Michael kept himself out of reach. “Michael, I told you, if you cancel –”

“I’m not canceling,” Michael murmured, brows pinched. “Just texting someone.” His finger hovered over the screen a moment before he hit send. “There,” he said, pocketing his phone. He didn’t look any happier than he’d been seconds ago. “Now Alex will be the one asking you out.”

Max’s shoulders slumped. “What’d you do?”

Michael didn’t answer, but the guilt on his face said it all. He was about to break Alex’s heart.

Alex had woken early. Last night he’d climbed through his window to his father banging on his door. He’d managed to sneak under the covers and play asleep the second Jesse had burst through, but he knew his luck wouldn’t last.

It hadn’t mattered, because there was nothing that was going to keep him from an entire day with Michael. So he’d risen early, forgotten about breakfast at the risk of running into his father and being trapped inside again, and just had water from the hydro flask he kept by his bed – he didn’t care, he would eat later with Michael. He’d thrown on his favorite skull and crossbones t-shirt, his silver skull choker, and his rings.

He felt silly fixing his hair in the mirror, running his hand through it so that the strands looked windswept. It wasn’t hard, as his hair rarely stayed down neatly. He’d learned to live with it.

Michael wouldn’t ever like him like he liked girls, he knew that, but maybe . . . maybe some part of him might find Alex attractive. Maybe he might look at him differently without realizing that he was looking at him differently.

It was dumb, but he could hope.

At least, he had hoped until Michael met him in front of their favorite coffeeshop with his arm around Maria DeLuca’s shoulders. Alex had been holding two coffees, a caramel macchiato for him and a mocha for Michael, because he loved chocolate. He’d nearly dropped them at the sight.

“Hey!” Michael called.

“Uh – hey, Alex,” Maria smiled awkwardly. “Guerin,” she said, “I thought we were hanging out today.”

“We are!” Michael smiled widely, taking his coffee and handing it to her. “With Alex! I always spend Saturdays with Alex.”

“B-But . . .” Alex looked between them. He could feel his heart slowly sinking into his stomach. He pressed his lips together in a quick smile to Maria and tugged Michael aside by his sleeve. “What’s going on?” he whispered. “We always spend Saturdays together.”

Michael tilted his head. “We are together.”

“Alone,” Alex insisted. “Just you and me, remember? We’ve never invited anyone else. And . . . Guerin, Maria?”

Michael laughed. He was laughing far too easily, and smiling way too much. He knew that of all people, bringing Maria would be a real sting. Didn’t he care about how Alex felt? And today of all days?

“Come on, Alex,” he said. “I’m just trying to have a little fun here.”

Alex felt like he’d just been slapped. “S-So being with me isn’t fun?”

Michael rolled his eyes like he thought Alex was messing around. Alex, horrifically, thought he might cry.

“Am I supposed to turn down a hot girl for you?” he said, taking Alex’s coffee and having a sip. “Seriously, so Maria’s coming. What’s the big deal, right? I mean, it’s not like we’re dating.”

He reached out to pat Alex’s shoulder, but Alex flinched back, away from his touch. For a split second, Michael’s face fell and he looked mortified. But it was gone so quickly that Alex was sure he must’ve imagined it.

He felt guilty, and dramatic, and pathetic. He felt cast aside, unwanted. All of that was okay, he was used to it. Maybe not from Michael, never from Michael, but he was used to it.

So he did what he always did when he was reminded just how worthless he was. He forced his chin up, exhaled shakily, and kept his words steady. “I actually just remembered that Max wanted to go to a museum thing today.”

Michael was still smiling. It felt wrong, but Alex couldn’t look at him too long to read into it. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Alex took another few steps back. He couldn’t remember ever wanting to be away from Michael, but at this moment nowhere felt far away enough. “He sounded like he really wanted me to go with him, but I had to say no because of today.” He moved further away. “I really wanted to go, too, to be honest. It sounded cool.”

“Yeah?” Michael sounded quieter. Maybe that was just because of the distance between them.

“So if you’re going to hang out with someone else, then I guess it’s okay if I go, too?”

Michael didn’t answer for a minute. “Yeah. No, yeah, that’s great. Works out for both of us, huh?”

Alex turned around so Michael didn’t see his face fall. “Yeah,” he said, and began walking away. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Before Michael could say anything else, Alex pulled out his phone. He wouldn’t dial until he rounded the corner and was out of Michael’s sight. He fell back against the wall, his legs giving out under him. He held the phone to his forehead, breathing deeply.

Kyle, he knew, was on a camping trip for the weekend with his dad. Liz was busy working shifts at the Crashdown.

It’s okay, Alex told himself. It’s okay. You don’t need anybody. It’s okay.

He may not have needed anyone, but he didn’t want to be alone today. So he dialed Max’s name, and held the phone to his ear.

It rung twice, then Max answered. “Alex?” There was hesitation in his voice that made Alex blush. Was he not actually expecting Alex to call?

“Er – hey,” Alex murmured, and rubbed his face with one hand. “Look, t-turns out I’m free today after all . . . If you . . . still want to go to the museum . . .”

Max didn’t answer for a long few seconds.

“O-Or not,” he said quickly, “doesn’t really matter to me, I just thought –”

“Yeah!” Max said, “Yeah, I’m – sorry, I was changing. I’m ready to go when you are! Where do you want me to meet you?”

Alex’s shoulders slumped. He felt a strange relief trickling through his chest, but it didn’t ease the weight on his heart. He muttered, “Wherever you want. Just text me the address.”

He waited for Max’s okay, then hung up. He rested his chin on his knees as he waited for the message to come in, closing his eyes and promising himself that he would not cry.

Max didn’t live in a house. He lived in a mansion. The two story villa stretched out over a valley of cacti and desert flowers, the windows long and the front doors big enough to fit ten grown men standing side by side. Michael had once told Alex how he’d sneak in through his brother and sister’s windows, and Alex now had to wonder how.

No sooner had he gotten to the door than Max came stumbling out, a bag thrown over his shoulder.

“Hey,” he panted, “let’s go.”

Without waiting for Alex’s greeting, he bodily turned Alex around and nudged him back toward the road. Alex was not new to being hidden away by boys who’d rather their parents not see him, but he’d already had his plans with Michael ruined, and was in no mood to humor any homophobia.

“What?” he sighed. “Afraid mommy and daddy will know you asked out a guy?”

Max blinked, surprised. He stopped. “What’re you talking about? I’m not trying to hide you from my parents.” He looked over his shoulder as if remembering they were supposed to be in a hurry, and frog-marched Alex away again.

“Oh?” Alex rolled his eyes. He tried to ground his heels to make it harder for Max but had no will to do it. He was tired, but anything was better than spending the day curled up in bed, abandoned and pitiful. “The who are we trying to hide from?”

“My . . . crap . . .” Max trailed off, and, following his gaze, Alex understood why. At the end of the road, her arms crossed, her purse hanging off one elbow, was Isobel Evans. She did not look happy.

“Sneaking off?” she demanded. “Who do you think you are? Michael?”

“Isobel,” Max warned. “Not now.”

“Did you honestly think you could hide your date?” Isobel narrowed her eyes at Alex. “Huh. You weren’t kidding. It really is Alex Manes.” She reached a hand towards his face. “You were right, he is very pretty –”

“Isobel,” Max slid in between Alex and Isobel, forbidding her from touching him. “I never said that.” Then to Alex, “I never said that. N-Not that you’re not – I mean, clearly you are –”

He shook his head, and turned back to Isobel, his jaw clenched. “I’m not kidding, leave us alone.”

Isobel was relentless, tilting her head over her brother’s shoulder, since she was almost as tall as he was. “Oh, what do you think I’m going to do, Max? Get out of the way, let me look at him!”

“Alex,” Max said, his wary eyes on his sister, “I am so sorry about this.”

“Sorry about what?” she demanded. “I didn’t do anything! Get out of the way, Max! Do you have any idea how rare it is to get a look at him this up close?!”

“He’s not an octopus, Isobel!”

“It’s a compliment!” She told Alex, “It’s a compliment, it means you’re really cute.”

“We have to go,” Max insisted, fending off his sister’s reaching hands. “We have a thing at the museum and –”

“What museum? Why didn’t you invite me? I want to come with you!”

“NO!”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ll make it weird!”

“What does that even mean? Scared I’ll embarrass you in front of your new boyfriend?”

“Isobel!”

Watching them, Alex should’ve been annoyed. But Max was being gentle with his sister, and Isobel’s eyes were so genuine that Alex could tell her curiosity was innocent and eager. There didn’t seem to be a malicious bone in either of their bodies.

Crouching behind a building just half an hour ago, Alex had not thought he’d be able to smile for the rest of the day. Now, a giggle escaped his lips before he could help it.

Max and Isobel stopped and stared, wide eyed. Max’s cheeks were tinted pink. Alex pretended not to notice.

“Isobel,” he said wearily, “you want to come with us?”

Isobel looked momentarily surprised, then pleased, a satisfied grin stretching across her pink lips. She lightly shouldered her way past Max and hooked her arm around Alex’s.

“I like him,” Isobel said cheerfully, and pulled Alex down the road. Alex looked over his shoulder at Max, who blinked out of his haze and ran to catch up to them.

“Why would you invite her?” Max murmured.

Alex took one look at Isobel and smiled, something about her radiant demeanor an interesting contrast to the darkness he lived in. Maybe it was having a writer with him, maybe it was that he was kind of a writer himself, but he thought there was a fascinating story here between the three of them.

To Max, however, he merely shrugged a shoulder and smirked.

“Come on, Evans,” he said. “I wouldn’t want you to think this was a date.”

Max again blushed, and Alex again pretended not to notice.

Ahhhh here it is!!! Finally!!!

I know only three to four people may enjoy this, but I wrote it mostly for me, so my expectations are low. Or, I should say, that’s how I’m trying to keep them. Don’t ask me how long until the next chapter comes up, this is just supposed to be fun. Any questions about updates shall be ignored.

That said, if you did enjoy it, comment! Tell me what you liked, if it was funny, angsty, if it’s not your kind of thing but you decided to give it a chance anyway - I love that stuff. And share/reblog. You may not have liked it, but maybe someone else really will!

#alex manes #max evans #sheriff manes #max x alex #sheriff manes fic #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #sheriff manes fanfic #sheriff manes fanfiction #tyler blackburn #nathan dean parsons

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shihalyfie · 4 years ago

Text

02′s influence on Adventure

You’re probably reading the title and going “...what? Isn’t 02 the sequel to Adventure? How would a series be influenced by its own future sequel?”

The thing is, assuming that Adventure was written in a vacuum and everything in 02 a retrofit runs very contrary to how both series were produced, and how this kind of anime is produced in general -- Adventure and 02 share almost identical staff members, and were separated only by a real-life single week in airing time. 02′s existence was not a sudden last-minute decision that was tacked on at the end! In fact, Adventure being extended to a second series was decided seven months into its production, right around the end of the Tokyo arc (sometime around the third cour). Despite it being a rather tonally different series, 02 is really just Adventure’s staff...writing more.

This means that by the time production had moved to Adventure’s final arc, the staff was very aware that they would be on for another year writing a sequel to this anime -- which thus likely became the fuel behind many of its creative decisions, made specifically to pave the way for 02.

The ending

Yeah, so, this ending. You know this really famous ending? The one that’s had such an impact on franchise history that a lot of later things have even tried to imitate it in some form? The one that everyone cites as one of Adventure’s most famous scenes (for good reason)? This ending only exists because of 02. You know what actually would have been Adventure’s ending if 02 hadn’t existed?

The 02 epilogue.

The ending that we now know as the “02 epilogue” was actually decided on before recording for Adventure had even started. (They weren’t even sure about finalizing the character personalities yet!) All of the most substantial details about that epilogue -- the series actually being the adult Takeru’s novel, everyone in the world having a Digimon partner, and, as it seems, even Yamato and Sora getting married -- were decided on before 02 was even in the picture. Most likely, the only material difference would have been that the four characters introduced in 02 (Daisuke, Miyako, Iori, and Ken) and their partners wouldn’t have been involved, but everything else would have roughly been the same as the “epilogue” we know now. (This especially makes sense when you consider that one of Adventure’s major influences was the movie Stand By Me, which is extremely culturally influential in Japan as a “childhood summer adventure story”, and involves a similar timeskip epilogue with one character growing up to chronicle the story as a writer.) All of this was basically intended to tie into Adventure as a narrative of “a story of humanity’s evolution”, so this ending was envisioned as the “natural conclusion” of the story of Adventure as a whole. If anything from the original Adventure ending would have been retained in this hypothetical scenario of only Adventure existing, perhaps the sentiment of “parting” at the end -- but then it would still be followed by a timeskip epilogue 28 years later and everyone in the world having a partner.

But then it was decided that a second series would be made, and at some point they decided it would be a series set three years after the first, resulting in: this.

What this means is that Adventure’s ending was only ever intended as an ending for a single chapter in the overall Adventure series narrative. A lot of people like to pose 02′s existence or epilogue as something that “undid” Adventure’s ending, as if it was supposed to be some “ambiguous bittersweet” ending about whether they ever met their partners again, but...that ignores the real-life context of Adventure and 02′s production, where Our War Game! (which depicted an easy reunion with their partners, went out of its way to cameo Miyako in advance, and, for all intents and purposes, practically spoiled Adventure’s ending by depicting them as separated at all) screened before Adventure’s last episode aired, and there’s also the Adventure mini dramas that depicted more incidental meetings (and despite the constant fourth wall breaking and absurd crack content in them, yes, they’re intended to be taken as canon).

Again: in real life, the first episode of 02 aired one week after the last episode of Adventure. Even the real-life audience was likely well aware that this wasn’t going to be the end (and if they weren’t, they certainly would be when the promotional trailers for 02 started airing right after Adventure’s last -- and that’s assuming you missed all of the promotion appearing in real life beforehand, including at the end of Our War Game!’s screenings). The production staff all knew, because they’d already been working on 02 for months now -- they postponed their originally intended ending just to make this new one, after all!

So yeah, this line isn’t supposed to be just a vague “oh, maybe they’ll meet again” in an abstract poetic sense -- it’s completely literal, because it’s hinting at said gate opening again one real-life week later.

From both a story perspective and a real-life audience perspective, this ending was never meant to be seen as ambiguous.

Takeru and Hikari’s character arcs

02 often gets an accusation of being lacking in the character development department (one that I seriously disagree with and have been working very hard to counter), but this accusation especially gets levied often at Takeru and Hikari, who are often said to be “flat” or “kind of just there” in 02 (which, again, I object to; more on this below). This is often rationalized as a theory that the writers didn’t know what to do with them because they’d already been in Adventure, but...this, again, assumes too much that Adventure was written in a self-contained vacuum and anything in 02 was just an addition done after the fact.

There’s actually quite a bit of evidence that the last cour (or at least a significant amount of it) was written with the idea that Takeru and Hikari were going to be starring in the next series in mind.

This is especially pretty apparent when you get to the last episode, where Takeru and Hikari are conspicuously the ones to leave off on the most confident “we’ll meet again” notes, compared to the other six. Of course, they do it in their own respective ways (Takeru and Patamon resolve to make it happen, while Hikari cryptically acts like it’s already bound to happen, borderline prophetically), and maybe you could chalk it up to the fact that they’re the youngest and therefore most naive of this group...but, again, remember: 02′s first episode aired one week after this one, where we would immediately be treated to Takeru and Hikari following up on this. Given that, you can basically see this as a wink and a nod: “yeah, these two have a story that’s not over yet.”

And as much as I may sound like a heathen to the fanbase by claiming this, I would actually say that it’s the opposite of the above claim: Takeru and Hikari both have pretty unresolved arcs by the end of Adventure compared to the rest of the other kids, and in fact are fleshed out more in 02. It’s honestly kind of a stretch to say that they “already got development” in Adventure -- Takeru still has a ton of unresolved issues with his family and trauma and emotional behavior that aren’t properly addressed to nearly the same degree as how the older kids have their core issues brought to the forefront, while Hikari really was only around for less than half the series, and not only is her main problem of emotional suppression told purely from Taichi’s mouth and not her own, we also get no real follow-up on how she intends to work past that.

Those are some pretty huge things to leave unresolved at the end of a series that’s known for its focus on individual character development, and considering that the premise of 02 involving an older Takeru and Hikari was likely finalized around the middle of the last arc of Adventure, it’s easy to believe that they decided to deliberately hold off on resolving Takeru and Hikari’s issues in full so that their story could be told in the next series. And, indeed, while their characters being built on “being difficult to read” makes their development not quite as visible as some of the more eccentric personalities in the 02 cast, their respective Jogress partners (Iori and Miyako) more openly discuss and get to the bottom of their issues that had been lightly displayed or hinted in Adventure but never truly been addressed.

A lot of things that were not in Adventure

Adventure was admittedly kind of written as they went along (they didn’t even originally plan to have Hikari as the eighth child at first), so it’s hard to tell exactly what was planned and what was a later addition (and at what point things were added), but considering that the 02 epilogue was one of the first things planned in the entire series, as part of “a story of humanity’s evolution” and tying into a really long theory about partners doubling every year, it’s probably at least safe to say that a lot of the worldbuilding and lore was determined very early.

02 added a lot of lore dumps about Digital World mechanics and things related to the overall state of Chosen Children, which have been said by many to be retrofits to justify a buildup to the 02 epilogue, but, again -- the 02 epilogue was supposed to be for Adventure, so it’s very likely that these lore aspects were intended for Adventure as well! This is especially because it’s been outright confirmed that there were at least certain things originally intended for Adventure that ended up in 02, or at least were in 02 because they felt Adventure didn’t sufficiently cover it:

The kids’ home lives. As famous as the Tokyo arc of Adventure is, it only covered about a quarter of it -- the rest of it was the kids stranded in another world, separated from home! It’s specifically 02 that went into all of the things like school life, family life, daily life in Odaiba, and everything closer to the real world -- basically, everything related to family backgrounds that was very likely to have been in the planning documents for Adventure but never made it.

The (in)famous 02 episode 13 (or, at least, something like it) was intended for Adventure. As much as there’s common speculation that this episode was intended to be some giant subplot that got canned, from what we’ve heard from the staff, the truth actually seems to be a lot more mundane -- Adventure was a series very big on “oddities about the Digital World that have no real explanation” (see: phone booths), and when you reframe it in Adventure’s context, it’s likely that Dagomon and the Dark Ocean were intended to be yet another of those as part of its wider lore about the multiverse, to make you think “the heck was that?” but never get any real answer to. (And while it’s unclear whether the original theoretical Adventure version of this episode would have still involved Takeru and Hikari, if you want to put a tinfoil hat on and entertain that theory, it lends even further credence to the idea that their respective character arcs were deliberately held off for 02...)

Given that, and thinking about the 02 epilogue as the eventual goal for the series, you can also easily imagine a lot of 02-introduced things leading up to it as probably also having been baked into Adventure’s lore:

You know how 02 had a subplot about Chosen Children proliferating all over the world, as a lead-up to everyone in the world eventually having a partner? This was part of a “doubling every year” formula that’s been referred to a few times in background staff testimony. If you inspect this formula, this means that there were eight other Chosen Children besides Taichi and his friends, chosen between 1995 and 1999. Now, remember how Adventure episode 52 briefly touched on the bombshell of Chosen Children existing before Taichi and co., before never addressing it again? Considering all of the above facts, it’s very likely that’s intended to tie into that formula -- and, perhaps, had 02 had not existed to continue the subplot about “more Chosen Children”, Adventure would have taken more initiative about explaining the concept of Taichi and his friends not being the only humans with partners, and led it into their originally intended epilogue.

02 episode 33 involves Miyako visiting Kyoto and learning that there may be certain similarities between Digimon and Japanese youkai, to the point where they might be related somehow, despite predating digital technology. (The concept is revisited in Mimi’s track in Two-and-a-Half Year Break and the Adventure BD drama CD, both of them having been written after 02.) The thing is, the idea that Digimon and other similar entities actually existed prior to digital technology, and that said technology only allowed it to manifest physically in the real world, also is heavily tied to the original concept of Digimon partners being a manifestation of a part of the human’s soul, and therefore having a partner being a part of human evolution -- which is, again, heavily tied to the original intent behind the epilogue. So it’s very likely that this, at the very least, was one of the original lore points behind Adventure -- and if 02 had not existed, it’s possible that Adventure might have tried to cover it as part of a lead-up to that epilogue, rather than ultimately deferring it to 02.

This is, of course, speculation -- I’m not a member of staff, so I can’t speak for them -- but I do think it’s important to consider that while 02 was a tonally different series, it wasn’t just a sequel tacked on at the last minute, and rather just (mostly) the same staff learning three-quarters of the way through that they would have more time to continue this narrative, and reorganizing things to figure out what they wanted to do now and what they wanted to touch on if they had more time. Really, this whole narrative of “02 being a bunch of random additions they came up with and retrofit” seems to almost be the opposite of what actually happened -- while some of the ideas behind 02 were certainly created later, it’s less that Adventure was some ideal perfectly crafted story and 02 an addendum, and more that they had so many things they wanted to do in Adventure that couldn’t fit and used 02 to vent more of those out:

One of the concepts behind the prior series was for us to pack in as many interesting things that we’d seen, heard about, or read about as we could into it, so for 02, we thought, what else could we put in beyond even that?, and so we looked over what we needed to have, and put in all the things we could so that they wouldn’t be left out, and the story became a multi-layered one, overlapping and accelerating. It was to the point that, after we’d gone through 02‘s story, the scriptwriters told me that they’d worn everything they had out to the ground. In any case, we put everything we had into it back then.

Which means that understanding 02 is actually very retroactively important to understanding Adventure -- Adventure’s own writing was influenced by the knowledge that 02 would be part of its story, and 02 itself carries a lot of vital facts and story points from Adventure’s narrative that didn’t fit in the first 54 episodes, and, in real life, they were both written continuously as one story over the course of over two years. It’s also because of this that I seriously warn against seeing either series in a vacuum too much -- because both series are very deeply tied to each other, perhaps more so than a lot of people want to admit.

#digimon #digimon adventure #digimon adventure 02 #shihameta

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statticscribbles · 4 years ago

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Graffiti

Summary: Kurtz/Reader Request: Reader keeps a journal with art/writing/etc and one night she meets Kurtz, both were in the mood to be away from their family/friends so they go to a pretty closed off place; reader brings her journal which she forgets and he can’t help but look through it & brings it back to her

It wasn’t as if the abandoned house was hard to find, but you’d never seen anyone in it, or any signs someone else had the same idea as you. Your parents had been drinking as usual but with the sudden closing of Southside your stress levels shot through the roof and you knew it was best to just avoid them.

You shimmy through the window, journal in hand, as you settle into the opposite wall, the wall itself had caved in leaving a large area to let the moon shine through. You let yourself get lost in the sketch you had planned earlier; it was a rough idea of the lunchroom from Southside, the caged area; where the Ghoulies settled on one side, the Serpent’s on the other. You blur the faces, scribbling shadows over them, and warping the Serpent and Ghoulies logo’s to meld into each other.

“That looks good.” You don’t scream, smacking the figure next to you with your journal. He laughs smiling at you as he sits next to you. “Sorry, that was rude. Nice hit by the way, almost as good as your drawings, which are almost as pretty as you.” “You realize how creepy this is right?” “Strange girl sitting in an abandoned house, drawing. Yeah a bit creepy.” He smirks and you roll your eyes.

“Did you think you were the only one who knows about this place? The Ghoulies and the Serpents having meetings here. Of course they come in the day; what about you?” “What about me?” “Why are you here?” “Y/N, I’m here to get away from my parent’s they’re-“ “Kurtz, lemme guess they drink? I’m here cause my friends are being dicks.” “Want to talk about it?” He shakes his head and you nudge him with your hand. “Come on, I hear that creepy girls in abandoned houses make great therapists.” You wink and he laughs.

“They’re just;” He shrugs turning to his backpack and pulling out a group of spray cans. “Isn’t that property damage?” You not to where he moves some of the rubble away. He pulls a bandana out and hands it to you, pointing to the one that’s covering his face. “Isn’t this trespassing?” He gestures to you both of you and you roll your eyes, closing your journal. “Want to try?” “Don’t think I’d be any good.” “It’s the same as that, just paint.” “Those are two different-“ You freeze when he wraps his arm around you pulling you against his chest.

“Shh, wait.” He mumbles into your ear and you try your best not to breathe as footsteps sound around the side of the house. As they fade he walks with you towards the door. “You should head back, wouldn’t want you to get caught up in prison, hear they aren’t nice to pretty girls.” He laughs nodding to the fence that you’d scaled. You nod back smiling under the bandana as he shoves you slightly harder towards the fence.

————————————————————————————– It probably wasn’t a good idea staying up till three am, but when you’d returned home you realized you’d left your journal, the thought of returning and getting caught by whoever was wandering around isn’t appealing. You’d still spent an hour combing through your room trying to convince yourself it had fallen under your bed some how. You reason you can go get it tonight, and you decide you’ll grab it after school. You make sure to put a blank one in your bag for school.

You’ve managed not to fall asleep in any of your classes but you can feel yourself slowly giving into the exhaustion. “Y/N! Hey, come on, can’t you at least pretend to be interested.” “Sorry I’m just tired.” You try to smile and your friend rolls her eyes. “Nevermind, it’s not important.” “Come on, finish the story, it was interesting I swear I just had a late night last night.” You nod to her and she smiles fondly. “Okay so-“ She pauses and you tap her forehead. “What? Did you forget what you were-“

“Y/N; you forgot this last night.” You turn, seeing Kurtz standing behind you holding your journal out. He tilts his head and you realize you were staring, you hadn’t thought to connect Kurtz from last night to the only other Kurtz you knew of. The Ghoulie who went off the edge on Jangle and then joined the Serpents. “Oh, hey. Thanks.” You smile pulling your journal back to your chest. “You look tired.” He nods to you before he turns and wanders off. You turn back to apologize, finding your friend has vanished; you can see the Serpent’s watching you from the corner of your eye as Kurtz returns towards them. They don’t question him and you thumb through your journal deciding nothing’s missing or marked on from what you can see so you tuck it into your bag.

You’re walking home, the trailer park not far when a motorcycle slows down enough for the rider to toss a helmet at you. You scowl catching it, watching as Kurtz flicks his visor up. “Need a ride home?” You nod, about to direct him to your house but he speeds off leaving you clinging to him. “My place, if you don’t mind?” You shrug. “Not like I have much of a choice.” “Sorry.” He looks upset at himself. “Just thought it was better to talk away from school, or your parents. Most adults don’t like me.” “Talk about what?”

“Your art, the writing and poems. They were- Hey!”He shouts when you smack him. “I didn’t mean to look through it, it fell open when I was running home. I caught part of a journal entry. It was, here-“ He tugs the journal from your bag thumbing through it; he has a faint smile on his face. “He’s staring at them again. I don’t think he realizes what he’s doing. I thought the Ghoul’s were meant to be a family like them, but judging by his face, the anguish he shows when he looks away from the Serpents, the Ghouls are nothing like he wants.’ It’s so poetic, and true, plus the drawings are nice.” He holds it out to you, the journal entry accompanied by a handful of half finished sketches of him, his face, and his hand sweeping his hair from his eyes. A sketch of him glaring, someone else’s hand on his jacket. You brush your finger over the number scribbled in the corner, looking up to him. He grins.

“Just in case you didn’t take me up on the ride.” You laugh shaking your head. “Well we can see I did, so no need for that.” “Well there’s plenty need for it, just not on the paper.” He looks towards your phone half out of your pocket and you roll your eyes pulling it out and plugging the number into it. “Happy?” You wait for a response, instead a text chime alerts and you look down at your phone -Yes. You free? I hear Pop’s does good food.- You look back up to Kurtz who smirks.

Support My Writing?

#kurtz x y/n #kurtz x you #kurtz x reader #kurtz riverdale #kurtz #riverdale imagine #riverdale reader insert #riverdale request #riverdale #jonathan whitsell imagine #jonathan whitesell #stattic

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thosekidswhohuntmonsters · 5 years ago

Photo

Playing With Fire

Summary: Sure Tom is twice the readers age, but she's tired of being treated as some naive little thing. When she finally confronts Tom she soon finds out that she's playing with fire.

Word Count: 2780

Rating: v spicy, deff 18+

Authors note: almost finished reposting all my tom stories! woohoo!

♡if you enjoy this fic you’re welcome to leave a reblog/like/comment! feedback is not only welcomed but encouraged!♡

The interviewer was nearly beaming, “So in the last trailer, there was quite the scene between you and Tom”. Instantly you smiled, knowing exactly what scene she was referencing. Without answering the question you teased, “That was in there for like a split second, how did you all pick up on it?”.

Anthony intervened, “Because it was you and Hiddleston getting it on...that’s all the world could ask for!”. The crowd ate up Anthony’s response, cheering wildly for him. Finally Tom spoke up, “I didn’t know our kiss had the ability to save an entire planet (y/n)”.

Turning to him you nodded your head, “I don’t know, it was a pretty good kiss”. While Tom tried to hide a blush, all the fans went wild again. Unable to resist you added, “I mean..am I wrong here or?”.

That caused you and all of your castmates to erupt with laughter. Evans shimmied a little bit, “Ohh (y/n) I think his inability to answer the question means it was”. You didn’t know who was more excited, the audience or the interviewer.

Quickly she added, “ I think the chemistry between your characters is quite prevolevent, we see sort of a build up in the last film and now it seems to be exploding”. Hoping you weren’t alone with the millions of dirty jokes filling your mind you turned to Sebastian, and the look on his face made you realize you weren’t the only one.

Anthony was more blunt, “Y’all are getting very creative with phrasing nowadays…”. The interviewer smiled, and she was nearly blushing herself. You laughed a little, “I was afraid I’d been the only one picking up on the double meanings here”.

Reeling you all back in as if you were children Tom finally spoke up. His voice was soft, “No other character has had an immediate effect on Loki in the way (y/n)’s character has. I think Taiki did a wonderful job in the last film not only introducing her, but almost showing her through Loki’s eyes at some points”.

He finished his sentence with a warm smile as he held your gaze. You smiled too, “Working with Taiki was amazing, I think he’s the reason why my character was able to flourish in the way she did. The response I’ve gotten from fans is just incredible”.

Evans made a face, “That was sweet, but neither of you answered the question. Let’s be real, Loki wants to smash”. Once again the entire room, the stage included, was filled with laughter.

Chris patted Tom’s shoulder, “I mean sorry bro but I’m right aren’t I?”. As if on cue the entire audience shouted back “yes” to Chris, only encouraging him. An eager hush fell over the room as everyone waited to see how you and Tom would respond.

Tom adjusted his glasses, “I mean..that’s one way to put it Chris. I’d much prefer to say that the desire from Loki’s side is definitely there, but he’s trying to keep it hidden. It’s another internal battle Loki has with himself; to indulge in his feelings or remain closed off”.

Chris rolled his eyes at Tom’s nearly poetic response, but soon found himself smiling. All eyes turned to you, waiting to see your take on things. You saw hundreds of phones in the audience, all recording your next words.

“While I feel that my character is complex, and still developing on screen, I think she has more freedom. While she shares having a rough past with Loki, she uses hers as motivation to not waste any of her present. Chris put it beautifully, she wants to smash”.

It was so entertaining to see everyone's faces during your heartfelt answer, and the watch their reactions change completely. Tom was shaking his head but there was a clear smirk across his face.

The panel went on and you and your castmates continued to enjoy yourselves. With the movie coming out in a couple days, everyone was less stressed about having to keep secrets. You loved teasing Tom Holland about his spoiling, but you could relate to his stress.

After the panel had finally finished you were all moved to a waiting room. Instantly Evans asked, “So what are we all doing later?”. Everyone began throwing out different plans, naming certain bars and clubs, but Tom was silent.

Quietly you asked, “Are you seriously not going out with the group?”. He laughed softly before turning his head towards you. He whispered back, “Love I hate to disappoint but-”. Maybe it was because of his last breakup, but he’d been in a funk.

You didn’t even let him continue, “Fine if you’re not going out then I’m at least not letting you stay in alone”. Before he could protest Chris repeated over the final plans for tonight, the group reaching their consensus.

You smiled, “I’d love to see what drunk shenanigans you all get into, especially you Chris, but I think I’m tapping out tonight. Rain Check on making horrible decisions we’ll all regret in the morning?”.

Chris raised one of his eyebrows as he tried to figure out why you’d say no, sure you weren’t the biggest drinker but you’d always been down to come along. After finally putting things together he grinned, “Sure thing kid, I have a feeling you’re gonna enjoy yourself anyways”.

While the group continued to talk about what tonight would entail, you continued to hold Chris’s gaze. When he knew no one else was looking he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and mouthed, “finally”.

Knowing exactly what he’d meant you rolled your eyes overdramatically mouthing back, “Fuck off”. Chris laughed it off, knowing full well that you were just joking. He was one of your closest friends, and he knew nearly everything about you.

Mundane things like your favorite color and time of the year, but more interesting things like your turn offs’ and ons’, and especially the fact that you had a major crush on Tom Hiddleston.

Preparing for tonight everyone went their separate ways, different security guards escorting everyone to their rooms and such. As the room became empty Tom turned to you, “Love are you sure you don’t want to go out with the rest of the group?”.

You smiled, “One can always get drunk, but spending a night discovering what the Tom Hiddleston thinks is fun is a once in a lifetime opportunity”. Once again he tried to hold back a smirk, but couldn’t.

“Hate to disappoint but my night is going to begin in my hotel room”. You didn’t back down, infact Tom had no idea how that was all you’d ever wanted to hear. Boldly you teased, “Normally that's where a night ends”.

It felt good to see him laugh, especially if it was from something you’d said. As the guards let you both to the elevators he softly said, “Darling you are trouble”. You watched him bite his lip, and you thought you were going to explode right then and there.

Within a minute or two you were in his room, a huge fucking bundle of nerves but trying to mask it. As he closed the door you asked, “So let me guess, we start the night off with some tea?”.

He chuckled softly, “I was thinking wine”. You gasped while placing a hand over your heart, causing him to laugh once again from your teasing. Tom sat down on the bed and began calling room service.

While you waited you continued to look around the room, well really it was more of like a mini apartment. Something you’d never get used to was the rooms marvel put you all up in, it was much more luxurious than needed.

Tom’s drink choice only made your nerves only worse. He’d been acting as if this was going to be some boring night, but here you were dressed to the nines in his hotel room about to order a bottle of wine.

After you heard him hang up the phone you turned back around to face him. With fake casualness you asked, “What's next on the agenda?”. You were starting to think you had no idea where this night was going to go.

Tom began taking off his tie, “First I’m getting out of this bloody suit”. For a moment you blinked, pretty sure you were just dreaming at this point. After realizing you were staring you nodded your head.

“Oh you don’t know the half of it hun”. With that you stepped out of your heels and began taking off your jewelry. By now his button up was hanging loosely from his body, “Well you look ravishing”.

You were leaning against one of the bureaus, while he still sat down on the bed. You felt lighter now with most of your outfit off, “I’m on to you Tom, and your whole gentleman act”. He raised his eyebrows at you, still playing dumb.

“Anything leaving that pretty mouth of yours is trouble, but the word ravishing? Makes a girl feel all kinds of things”.

Slowly Tom’s tongue ran over his lips, before he bit his bottom lip altogether. You heard a knock on the door but before you answered it you repeated, “Trouble”. Tom never felt more connected to Loki than in this exact moment.

He was having his own internal struggle right now; to finally let you know how he feels, or to fight back the most intense feelings of desire he’s ever experienced. Throughout this entire night he’d slowly been losing; inviting you up to his room, ordering wine for you both, eyeing you like you were a meal, but he couldn’t help himself.

It didn’t help either that you’d been teasing him nonstop, it was like you were begging him to make a move. Leaning forward while taking off your shoes giving him a perfect look at your cleavage, teasing him about where a good night ends, it was all getting to him.

After tipping the hotel staff you entered back into the room, “Alright Hiddleston, let’s get down to it”. You’d pulled him out of his thoughts, causing him to finally look back up at you. Walking towards him you placed down the two glasses on the nightstand, still holding the bottle in your hands.

Tom was apprehensive, “And what exactly is it?”. You wiggled your eyebrows making him smile. After you both laughed you got serious, “This funk you’ve been in. Is it because your last rela-”.

He shook his head, his ex was the last thing he’d been thinking about. She’s left his mind months ago, and hadn’t entered his thoughts since. You on the other hand had nearly consumed him.

The only thing that stopped him was that he was nearly twice your age, you were only twenty-three. You were young, playful, a complete tease, but the worst part was that your qualities weren’t just skin deep.

You were also everything he’d ever wanted emotionally; always so concerned about your friends well being, empathetic, incredibly funny, so wonderful to your fans, and somehow much wiser than most people his age.

Getting up from the bed you began to pour yourself a glass, “Look, you can get tipsy and tell me what’s wrong or you can tell me when you’re sober and skip all the awkwardness of the morning after”. He shook his head, if you wanted honesty he’d give it to you.

“You sure you want the truth (y/n)?”. You nearly spit out your wine, was he being serious? Sarcastically you asked, “What can I not handle the truth?”. Your reaction caused Tom to shake his head.

“Darling, I think you’re being a little naive. You still have some-”. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, he was playing the age card. Sure you were younger, but hey you were older than Tom Holland!

You shook your head, “Oh so I’m too young and innocent now? What could you possibly have to say that my fragile little ears can’t handle?”. You could feel the moment escalating, especially with the look in his eyes.

His voice was sultry, “Oh love you’d be surprised”. You wanted to doubt him but the current look on his face sent shivers down your spine. Trying to regain your confidence you said, “Then surprise me”.

Tom got off of the bed completely, and started walking around the room. His tie had been loosely hanging around his neck but now he’d gripped it in his hands. It was like a prop, “For starters, you’re too seductive for your own good”.

God how did he make sex sound like shakespeare? Your eyes widened, “Tom what does that even mean?”. Sighing he ran his hands through his hair, he was trying to find the words. He looked to you again, “Do you have any idea of your affect on me? How flustered you make me in front of thousands?”.

As he continued he groaned, “God it just makes me want too-”. He stopped himself mid-sentence, knowing that he was going to shift the entire mood if he continued. By now he was standing in front of you, only inches away physically by a sea away mentally.

You looked up at him, “Makes you want to want? What does it make you want to do to me?”. He’d told you that you were playing with fire but you were calling his bluff. His voice was deeper now, “Little girls shouldn't play with fire”.

That sentence went right to your core. The thing was that Tom looked like he was enjoying himself while saying it, it was the most blissful he’d been in months. You licked your lips, “Are you afraid you’re going to take advantage of me somehow? I’m twenty-three years old Tom”.

As you continued you let one of your hands trail up your body, “You treat me like I’m some innocent fragile little girl, but I’m not as vanilla as you think”. Your response only seemed to amuse him more.

“Have you ever considered that I like that you’re older than me? I don’t want some little boy, I want a man. I want someone to take control, and satisfy my needs”.

His breathing was deeper now, any control he’d been clinging on to had now vanished. Leaning forward he placed his hands on either side of you, almost trapping your body. His voice was much deeper now, “Why don’t you really tell me what you want me to do”.

You leaned forward, “What? That I want you to fuck me like a real man? Pin me down and take me? I don’t know Tom, I’m so fragile and innocent I might break”. Your smirk was the largest it had been all night.

He let his hand trail softly down your cheek before gripping your chin tightly. Tom used his grip to tilt your head up and hold it firmly in place, “You little minx”. You licked your lips, you desire showing now more than ever.

“Look at you now, licking your lips inches from my throbbing cock. Is that what you want love, my cock wrapped around those pretty lips?”.

You nodded your head, convinced that if you tried to speak you’d just moan. Shaking his head he groaned again, he couldn’t believe how beautiful you looked. He’d never had someone look up at him so intoxicated before, and he imagined he’d been looking the same way at you.

Tom was letting himself go, finally indulging in ways he’d wanted too ever since your first scene together. He clicked his tongue, “As much as I’d love to see that, I think some payback is in order”.

To your surprise Tom got down on his knees before you, his face now level with yours. Slowly his hands ran up your thighs and pushed back your skirt, “Well darling, let’s hope you’re not this quiete for much longer”.

As you watched the smirk form upon his lips you knew his whole gentlemen act had finally been through completely out the door. You started to pull your dress off completely, “Be careful what you wish for babe”.

Using his grip on your thighs he pulled you closer to his mouth. His tongue darted out of his mouth and swept across his bottom lip, “And I’m trouble?”. Together you laughed for a moment, thankful for how effortless this all felt.

Tom was amazed how you could so easily flow from making him smile and laugh to wanting to rip your clothes off and pin you against the nearest wall. He decided that he didn’t want to waste anymore time thinking, and finally start doing.

♡ thank you for taking the time to read this, you’re a babe♡

Forever tags: aka some amazing people: @moonlessnight14 @sexyvixen7 @angieptt @painkiller80 @becca-dolan @team-heichou @thatpeachybandgirl @allthesesonsobitches @buckybarneshairpullingkink @couldabeenamermaid @taeeemin@littleredstarfish @nali67 @only4wakingup @mcenziehughes

*if there is a line through your name that means that for some reason it won’t allow me to tag you*

*forever tags are always open*

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fic

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magnumdays · 5 years ago

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The Episode of Lost Opportunities AKA 2x16

SO I wrote this before watching the promo, then I did and now I know most of us are just FREAKING out about next week (and I’m freaking out the most because ummm they’remakingmyfanficintoanactual EPISODE!!! How does one deal with this????) but if you want a break from freaking out, here are some thoughts on last night’s episode!

So even though 2x16 was perfectly enjoyable, I’m going to have to officially re-name it “The Episode of Lost Opportunities” because there were so many plots and just tid-bits they could have done great things with.

So yeah not really a review today, instead I’m going to (in true Jenny Nicholson fashion) make a numbered list of things I think they should have added /done something with, in no particular order.

Miss nr. 1. Not having Higgy tease Magnum back with British pet names. I’m honestly devastated by this. Like what would a little sarcastic “come on luv” or a “Dearie, come here” from Juliet have cost them? The closest we got was Babe take our selfie.

Nr. 2. Not having Mr. Dorky Helpful But Cute guy ask Higgy out. I really thought this was where it was going with him being all “it’s just our second date, we met online” and yeah even though he looked about 12, it would have fit the episode.

Plus they could have had Magnum standing to the side gesturing like “go for it” and her either saying yes or no and later her and Magnum having a little chat about it. The Yes with him being all “I convinced you to do it” proud and also mildly jealous. The No, with her being all “he’s a suspect” or “he went on a love bus tour!” or “I’m not ready, bc of the dead fiance, remember him?”

Nr. 3. Which takes us neatly to - drowned guy should be bringing up some feelings for Juliet as I’m fairly certain back in Day of The Viper they mention something about how Richard washed up on the shores of something-something (I mean obvs he was shot before but I’d still imagine some associations there).

Also her own almost drowning in 1x19 (even if this episode’s dude wasn’t drowned, it did seem so at first and he was still in the water). I just feel maybe there could have been some feelings here that our favorite duo actually talked about. Just a nice little call back to either one of those would have been great. One line! Is that too much to ask for?

Nr. 4 on the list of missed opportunities is for me going to be Theresa (Teresa?). TC’s old flame. And this is a big one!

I honestly would have loved it if they went with this - as in have him not be so damned noble and let the childhood sweetheart go. Like, why not have them actually try to make a go at it?

Maybe she could have been there with just her boyfriend rather than husband to make it less of a thing and then maybe give it an episode or two and have them talk over the internet before she comes back and they get back together! Because why can’t anyone have a girlfriend? Like why do all of the guys need to be such lone wolves?

I mean, I get it, because they are a family/brothers, but having even just one more minor female recurring would be interesting and would add dimension to the gang and characters!

Now this is like one of those random side plots that don’t really do much because in the end nothing has changed. Other than us learning a little more about TC, which is nice, but it doesn't seem like it will actually impact future episodes and didn’t really connect a whole lot with the episode. TC is just off getting closure to a relationship we never knew he needed closure for. Which means we’re not super invested.

I feel like this is a bit of a problem with the show in general. We get really nice and moving and character developing stuff for characters we haven’t been shown to need, as with Kumu last week and now TC. Rick and his dying “dad” Ice-Pick and even Shammie with his lying army buddy. Even Gordon and his son. Jin and his sisters and that’s why he steals.

These things could all have had 100 times more impact if they’d established these problems/ relationships earlier. Like if we had learned Kumu's husband had cheated on her and had a child with another woman (or maybe that Kumu is a bit sad she never had kids on her own) sometime before - over the past 30 episodes, wouldn’t last week’s episode, where she finally reaches out to the husband’s kid, would have been so much more emotionally satisfying?

Same if Theresa had been mentioned as TC’s great love and maybe him being sad some episodes ago (or even back in 1x19 when his dad doesn't come to visit - that could have been about him seeing a post about her getting married and him being upset about it and connecting with Rick about that.)

Like I get that maybe sometimes they just throw random things in there but at the same time why do they need to do that? Want to do that? Isn’t there someone keeping track of the big picture? Giving characters long running story arcs over a season or even multiple ones should be someone’s job.

If it’s not, I volunteer!

Seriously Lenkov I’m currently unemployed and totally up for it, just give me a call! I already know we think the same... (Marriage of Inconvenience).

Nr. 5 Not having Gordon comment something on the fact that he’s been called to a murder scene on a Island Love tour bus site by his favorite PI duo. Like yeah they’d have told him why they were there but he still should have teased them about it! Like “What were you two doing here anyways? Something going on?” and both of them giving a horrified “NO!”.

Nr. 6 when the guy says “is he crazy?” after Magnum jumped into the waterfall pool thing, not having Higgy be all “Yes, he is”, then jumping in after him, was a huge miss. That would have been so funny and shown how much alike they are (even if Higgy will always be the sane one...)

Nr. 7. Not having Magnum and Higgins try to pretend to be together when the bus driver catches them. I mean come on! At least some more hand holding! Snuggling? I’m not saying to just kiss already okay maybe I am saying that.

Nr. 8. Not one real Miggy moment in this episode? I mean lots of bickering and maybe for a moment with her being all “well done” when he tells the cheating a-hole he’s an idiot for having an affair. And if the camera had stayed on him for a few seconds more when they’re toasting at the end we know we’d have gotten a Mangum looks had Higgy soft heart eyes moment. But we didn’t. But other than that, not really much feel-y moments even if we got plenty of cute stuff.

Nr. 9. Sandy and how they find out Sandy is the killer! Like what? She cut the bus’s fuel line which makes no sense, she’d wouldn’t want to trap herself right? Sandy if you’d just not cut the fuel line and stayed with the group, you’d have been taken back to civilization and no one would have figured you out! Or you should have left right away on car/4-wheeler you must have prepared for escape, not stayed around! You could have left down long before the cops got there or the autopsy revealed anything. Same for why does she give her knife to her date? Why not just throw the knife away? She’s in the jungle, big chance it will be found. Not.

And why kill someone in the middle of nowhere, making yourself one of the, like, 8 suspects? Like come on girl, for a hit woman you’re not that clever. Also if you had a gun, why strangle a guy 2x your size? That’s not a smart plan either. Just get a silencer and shoot the guy when he’s on his morning jog back in the city or something! I feel like the only reason they had her be the baddie was so Magnum/ Higgins could say “Shot through the heart” // “How is that for poetic” all dramatically after Gordon took her down.

Problem nr. 10. Tied in with this I just think Sandy as the killer should have not happened.

In fact, I think having the sweet loving wife as the killer would have been wonderful.

It would have been a much better twist! Dead guy could have been poisoned (traditional how wive’s kill their husbands… just saying) and then he fell off the cliff. They could surely have found some weird clue to that, like maybe his throat is all swollen and stuff to make them think foul play and then when they’re moving the body towards the end, Magnum realizes it’s poison.

But Higgy stayed back with the ‘grieving’ asthmatic widow and oh no! Must rush back to save my one true love platonic partner.

We could have had some sort emotional moment where the Wife got Higgy with a knife at her throat and is all “He was supposed to be my best friend, my partner, my everything and he did X” and Magnum being all “Well that woman you’re holding a knife to is my (best) friend, my partner and she didn’t do anything so please put the knife down!” Or something.

I mean I know that sounds like I’m off in Miggy fanfiction land but honestly I think they could have made it work (this is hilarious when re-reading after watching next weeks trailer). She could have teased him about the best friend bit but then she could have been all soft, “Thomas. Thank you. I’m glad you're my friend.” And the episode could have ended with how love just never seems to end well for anyone which would have been way more on theme for the vibes in this episode (and frankly whole show because no one gets to have a romantic relationship for more than, like, 3 episodes).

Nr. 11. Higgins hair. Not putting it in the fluffy “Blood In the Water” style was a big miss because that hair made her look so freaking adorable. Just saying. I mean both my babies are always adorable I just love the poofy fluff hair from that ep!

Anyways, those were my 11 missed opportunities for episode sixteen!

My fave bits were Magnum and Higgins fake couple thing at the start. Magnum being all like “While we’re up here we might as well take a selfie!” and then when talking to the old couple his, *I’m just gonna keep my hand here, on your waist! I’m real smooth* move.

I enjoyed the fast action pack-ed-ness of the whole ep and the pretty Hawaii scenery we got. The more I watch Magnum PI the more I want to visit Hawaii (one day when there is no Corona, I’m much richer and 20h airplane rides are suddenly comfortable, I will!) and just enjoying all the amazing natural beauty and stuff.

The Rick and TC’s interactions were also highlights, I loved the whole “just pretend to walk by”. Like so middle-school yet so relatable because who hasn’t done that when we’re like, is that Lisa from second grade? And just we walked down the cat food aisle perusing cat food (when we most def. don’t have a cat), just to check if it is indeed Lisa.

Also this made me crack up so hard.

Magnum: Muffin?

Higgy: Could you please not refer to me as a breakfast pastry.

That’s just so on point for Higgy I can’t even!

You guys agree with my missed opportunities? Or have any of your own for this or any other episodes?

______

(And who is desperately searching for a time machine to steal so it can be next week - right this minute!! LIKE!!! I’m still freaking out from the trailer.)

#Magnum pi #miggy #magnum pi 2018 #thomas mangum #juliet higgins #magnum pi season 2 #magnum higgins #so much potential

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zwiezraczek · 5 years ago

Text

Lover [Blurb]

Part 3: Player - Part 4

Note: It has been almost two months since I updated the Believer blurb! But now, here we are with the final part! I hope you'll enjoy it! Especially you, 🐼 Nonnie! 💕💕💕

~~~

You were sitting on this chair for hours, your muscles sore and your jaw clenched every single time one of the men you once directed took your face between his large fingers, tightening his grip on your cheeks until Billy spoke. With every new confrontation, you could feel your mouth bleed and you became accustomed to blood's taste. And to your father coming to give you food and water in order to have a breaking point for Billy, and probably because he still loved you somehow. But you couldn't figure out how.

You closed your eyes. You wished a painless death, because this became too much. Did you spent hours, days or weeks there? You had lost count. The harsh source of light was your only sun, and your moon became this little light they had put in the basement when nobody was there for a longer moment. And during these moments, you imagined yourself kicking their asses, with Billy and escape from there. He whispered a countless number of times that he was sorry about all of this, dragging you into this matter was probably his biggest mistake he said. But you had to open your eyes one day, and you preferred this way than any other.

“Y/N,” he said, as one of the guard left his position for a moment.

“What,” you asked, with a weakened voice and a your throat dry.

“Do you regret being my friend sometimes?” And even in the darkness, you could sense how this question burned his lips and made him wince.

“You're really asking me this, there, while you're living your best life with your BDSM kink,” you snapped in a lower tone in order to keep your voice consistent. “I regretted being your friend, when I found out that you lied about your death, but otherwise never.”

“You don't hate me for what's happening to you?” And before you could reply, you heard gunshots coming from outside the basement.

“What the hell,” you whispered.

Men seemed to be running through the corridors, heavy steps and heavy guns and you knew that this never meant anything good. But you were useless here, and you couldn't even save yourself from there. Neither could Billy with his kinky stuff. You closed your eyes, if you had to die now, you prayed the lord for a painless death.

Somebody opened the door, the light hitting your eyelids and you forced them to open again. You saw an impressive figure in the frame of the door, with a gun in each hand groping around for a switch. And when they finally found it, the basement became this harsh-lighted space again. He ran towards Billy, and you protested, kicking the ground and trying to free yourself from the cuffs, your voice refusing to cooperate in your actions. And then, you saw how calm Billy was when the man detached him and how he almost hugged him.

And then you understood. The Ghosts squad.

The tall masked man came towards you, and knelt right behind your chair.

“We've got you, senorita,” he whispered and you thanked him a countless number of times before getting up and walking, slowly towards the exit. He let you put your hand over his shoulder as he saw you struggling. “What did they do yo you?”

“Ugly shit,” you replied exhaling as walking became even harder than it was before.

“Four, you're doing alright,” he asked Billy and your bestfriend nodded vigorously.

“Have been worse, just take care of her Three,” he said as he looked at you, pain in his eyes.

“Don't worry Four, we're getting out of here,” he said with a smirk.

You noticed that Billy had a gun in his hands, and how much you wished to be less useless and to grab a gun and kill all of these man around, in a furious rage asking for blood. And even more blood than you could imagine. Patiently, the three of you made their way out of your house, with your help now, directing your small group towards the exit of this hell of a house. In the car, somebody was already waiting for you – you recognized the French woman's hair when you sat on the backseat. You closed your eyes for a moment, as you heard the rattle of the engine. You have had enough of all of this. You just hoped you were free.

And as soon as you entered the Ghost's place, Five greeted both of you by making you lay down in order to examine you. Apparently, you were the one who was the most injured of the two of you. Five left Billy on his bed, and came towards you to examine your stomach on to make sure that the bruises you had weren't the sign of internal bleeding, and even if it did hurt when she pressed her hands against your stomach, you seemed to be good, butextremely tired. Way more than Billy.

But then, a rush, you heard someone say to hurry up because Seven was shot. You closed your eyes, and for the first time in a long moment, you slept without any real preoccupation.

~~~

“Look who's here, with us,” One teased while he saw you entering the room, “our best solution and our biggest problem!”

You spent the past week laying down on one of the couched they had in their meeting room, trying to recover mentally from what had happened to you. You were first kidnapped, then you discovered that your bestfriend wasn't dead and that you killed a bitch for – almost – nothing, then you learned that your own father supported children traffic, and your father himself made sure to punish you once you dared to step up against him when you helped the Ghosts and you had to pay for it the highest price, but apparently Billy suffered the most because of it. And finally, you landed there, with the Ghosts, without any promise for your future, without any true hope.

The only little thing that had kept giving you a little light, was Billy. He stayed with you as much as he could – while he wasn't by Seven's side, Seven who got shot badly but recovered pretty quickly - talking to you, apologizing for what you dragged you into, again. But you didn't regret what had happened, you even enjoyed knowing that you contributed to something “good”. Something that wasn't your first thought, because what once was on your mind was murder, fun and money. But your little adventure taught you something about yourself, that even when somebody was rotten to the very core, they had feelings and weaknesses. Yours were children, your father's you and Billy's you too. But your father was gone now. Along with a lot of his personal guards, the ones knowing about the basement situation – because you could swear that he wasn't able to tell everybody that you betrayed him, ha had to come up with some excuse for your sudden disappearance, and the Ghosts found out that you just ran out, and probably died somewhere, which was pretty much convenient.

And now, you stood among them all, as they spoke about the rest of their plan. You couldn't believe how much had changed in so little time.

“I never wanted to be part of this,” you retorted before standing next to Billy.

“But turns out you're one of us now,” One said with a forced expression as you blinked looking at Billy first. “We've discussed about this, and we can't just let you go into the wild while knowing about us...”

“And because somebody will probably try to kill her,” Billy insisted while looking insistingly at One.

“Yeah, yeah,” One brushed him off, “so, basically we decided you should be part of our team.”

“You're joking,” you blurted, hardly believing what you had heard. The man who called you a 'good girl' once, while you were tied up sitting on a metallic chair said that you were now part of his squad? Impossible.

“Do I look like the Joker,” he asked you while pointing his serious face. You were tempted to say yes.

“Yes you do,” Two said and One just groaned but before he could say anything she continued. “We fucked up your life badly, so the least we can do is to give you another life.”

“Poetic, but not what I was going for,” One remarked. “I was about to say that she had value, and that probably she knew way more than we do about our next target but go on, Two, the floor's yours!”

“I'm in,” you finally said, and Billy looked at you with a little smile, “I don't have any other choice, and I probably can help you with many things, it's good to be bad but maybe it'sbetter to serve a better cause.”

“As an ex hitman, I can confirm that it's way better this way,” Three said with a grin as Two rolled her eyes.

“Welcome to the Ghost's family,” Billy whispered as everybody began to talk again about you entering the squad. You could only smile.

~~~

Between missions, you loved to sit in the trailer they had given to you. Your own little place, where you could swear, curse and cry. But mostly, a place where you had to learn to live again. But you weren't alone, Billy was by your side now. And how happy it made you feel, and how relieved you were about all of this. You had your bestfriend back. This was what mattered the most. Even if the price of what you were living was high – as your own father's death that you still couldn't grieve, you couldn't grasp enough courage to grieve him properly without letting your inner rage explode – you were happier than before. Your hunger for blood had stopped, and Three was there to help you as you began to live like somebody normal.

But Billy was your best ally in this game. You could count on him as you never had the opportunity to. During the first nights, he stayed with you, as you held your tears back because everything was too much for you, because it finally had hit you: you were alone again. But he caressed your forehead, kissed it, and reminded you that you would never be alone again. Not on his watch. And often, you would fall asleep between his arms. Feeling safe. And probably loved.

“Y/N,” he whispered during one night, as you had your face against his chest, resting. You only hummed in response. “You don't hate me for what's happening to you?”

“Billy,” you groaned as you pulled away a little from him, “I don't, I promise. I'm thankful I had the chance to find you and to feel freer than be...”

“But you had a stable life,” he cut you mid-sentence, and you could feel his anxiety grow as he spoke. “You had everything you ever wanted and could wish for, and with the Ghosts we destroyed it all because of our stupid plan, a plan to save the world... By crushing yours...”

“Billy,” you whispered as you put your hand on his cheek, rubbing it with your fingertips now. “I'm not regretting anything, and I don't hate you Billy. I will never hate you, I promise. I love you too much to hate you,” the words naturally flowed out your mouth and you hoped that he wouldn't catch it.

“I love you too, y/n, that was why I couldn't bear see you suffering when I died or not so long ago hen they wanted to have information from me,” he said, his eyes glistening in the dark. You felt yourself attracted towards him, your moth making its way towards him before you kissed him, delicately. You never knew how much you wanted this moment until it happened. His lips were soft, and he pulled you closer against him.

“I think the lucky bastard was right,” you whispered as you thought about the man who had mocked you when you spoke with Billy during your captivity, “I do have an undying love for you, Billy”

“And so do I, y/n.”

#🐼 series #ben hardy #four x reader #four!ben #four ben hardy #6 underground ben hardy #6 underground #six underground ben hardy #six underground #ben hardy blurb #blurb

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lokislytherin · 4 years ago

Note

For the writing positivity ask meme: 3, 10, 15, 21, 30!

OOH A RESPONSE! thank you for the ask @khunfounded!

prepare for a lot of rambling

3. What is your favorite line/paragraph that you’ve written?

hmmm i’ve written a lot of things before this is hard lmao i’ll just pick my top two!

from tower of god, ships in the night ch14: this is one of the most poetic things i’ve written, ever (thank taylor swift’s ‘cardigan’ for the inspiration with the line “you drew stars around my scars // and now i’m bleeding” because i love folklore and taylor swift is megabrain)

“The wounds she'd dug into his mind may never truly heal, but they are merely memories of pain now, pale scars painted over with gold ink, tattooed with stars and guitars and whatever the night had to give.”

from bts, burn the stage ch1: circus poetics, of course. after reading the first (and only) chapter i wanna continue this again sdfjkldkls why do i keep starting fics but never finishing them? i should actually Commit

“without a sound, it creeps into cities in their darkest hours, bringing with it shadows of caravans dimly lit by rattling lanterns and flickering light bulbs. if you take a closer look, you can see the silhouette of an elephant in its trailer, illuminated by the faintest shine of moonlight. this time, the circus is in busan.”

10. What’s the best comment on a fic you’ve ever gotten?

time to scroll through my 1000+ comments lmao

okay after a while of scrolling i have no idea what the best comment is but ngl any comment from @resident-normal-person is bound to get me wheezing at some point because her comments are so long and detailed and it’s like watching reaction vids but in words

but ngl this comment from one of the fics i’ve kinda left behind (one chapter is up and i said I’M GONNA CONTINUE THIS IT’S GONNA BE SO LONG I HAVE SO MUCH CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT PLANNED FOR JIN) cracks me up tho:

“Please continue? I'm actually interested”

15. Tell me about a time when you got super inspired.

laughs like i haven’t listened to taylor swift’s ‘willow’ five times today

so i get inspired by songs really easily? especially by taylor swift songs, because each song has a unique narrative and taylor is such an amazing songwriter she’s literally so talented i don’t know if i want to dissect her lyrics or her brain

yesterday her new album evermore came out and i promised my swiftie friend we’d listen and scream about it together, and we did, and before i knew it-

OK FIC PLANNING LET'S GO (this is me trying~) - ILLICIT AFFAIRS / CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS / CLOSURE?: FT KHUN EDUAN, JAHAD AND MAMA AGNIS, SITNVERSE - WILLOW: CRYSTAL SNOW PREQUEL, VLENE - NO BODY NO CRIME: I DON'T KNOW YET BUT PROBABLY KHUNBAM CRIMEBUSTERS AU - EVERMORE: PROBABLY RELATED TO 'EXILE' FIC holy crap the bridge i'm shivering in my seat (it's not the cold) - TOLERATE IT: I DON'T KNOW AS OF RIGHT NOW BUT I WILL, MAYBE JALENE UNREQUITED LOVE FROM JAHAD POV? - ivy: maybe a continuation of willow? but as a plant witch!arlene au, which might tie in to cruel summer? sfdlkasdfjfd - gold rush: part of khunbam celebs au? - marjorie: maybe part of 'the curious courtship ritual of a black turtle' as a tribute to arlene? marjorie was taylor's opera singer grandma - happiness: bam character study with links to rachel? or should i use clean for that - coney island: the lyrics are tragic, so maybe arlene's thoughts in her last moments in sitnverse? i need the angst practise - cowboy like me": city boy eduan gets stranded in a car trip and has to stay the night with country cowboy v? either way it does not end in true love forever or whatever - long story short: bam moving on from rachel and finding love with khun? or khun moving on from maria and finding bam? sfdkljsdfkjlfds i don't knowww so many ideasssss - dorothea: interesting song but i gotta admit i have no idea what to do with this one

kaboom

you can visibly see where i started chilling out lmao but me and my friend spent a little over an hour screaming about evermore, so far my favorite tracks are ‘no body no crime’ (true crime inspired! i want to dissect the narrative and write a fic, maybe start that fugou keiji x khunbam au) and ‘champagne problems’ (eduan-style ‘illicit affairs’ vibes, you’ll get it if you’re caught up to ships in the night)

i did pretty much the same thing for folklore too? like i linked every single song in the album to a oneshot idea and now my swiftie friend is screaming at me to hurry up and actually write the saga because she wants to read my fics

21. Tell me about a time when you impressed yourself.

me in may: *plans out the entire plot of ships in the night*

me in december, actually following the plot: *surprised pikachu* i- i can do that? i did that? just over 100k words? oh my gods this is what dedication actually is

(my inner kim namjoon, waving a razor: NOW STUDY OR I’LL SHAVE YOUR EYEBROWS)

okay but here’s another anecdote: this is me trying to analyze one of my fics, i’m connecting bts’s hyung line (kim seokjin, min yoongi, jung hoseok (hobi), kim namjoon) to space metaphors, i’m screaming at my army friend over whatsapp in the middle of the night because i was kinda high on sleep deprivation

this is like from some time early last year

hC: YOONGI IS THE NIGHT AND HOBI IS THE SUN SO HOBI BRINGS LIGHT TO YOONGI'S WORLD AND LETS HIM SEE THE BETTER PARTS OF HIMSELF AND MAKES HIS LIFE BETTER THEREFORE SOPE IS TECHNICALLY THE BEST SHIP

AND JIN IS THE STARS BECAUSE HE'S TRYING TO MAKE YOONGI SEE THE TRUTH, AND HIS MAGIC IS ALSO THE COLOR OF STARS AND WHEN HE DOES MAGIC HIS EYES GLOW SILVER AND I SHOULD FIND A PIC OF PLATINUM BLOND JIN BUT IDK IF IT WOULD LOOK GOOD

and then me a few days after that

actually no jin is the moon because he brings light to others but also because he helps them but he doesn't help himself so he's lonely that way like the moon

so namjoon could be the stars because they're not on the same level but he's still with jin

and the moon only glows because it reflects the light of the stars around it which suggests that the only reason why jin is still around is because of his love for namjoon and joon's love for him

me more than a year later, after the release of bts’s second most recent album map of the soul:7, which includes kim seokjin’s solo track ‘moon’

HOLY SHÏT DID I PREDICT MOON

LIKE JIN’S MOON MOON

i literally just remembered that just now? like i was looking for the namjinsope space analysis and then i saw jin = moon and was like JIN = MOON? I SAID THAT? ON 4/7/19? i even predicted the song meaning?

also go to 3:22 to see why jin owns my heart he deserves all the love in the world

30. Do you know how proud I am of you?

*tears up* you- you are? thank you so much

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multimetaverse · 5 years ago

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HSM:TM:TS 1x01 Review

The Auditions was a great series premiere for High School Musical: The Musical: The Series and I’m very excited for all that’s to come. Let’s dig in!

Disney certainly got its money worth with this show. The gorgeous Utah scenery and actual on location filming really helps ground the series with a sense of realism. To that end, I really liked the little details, like the principal not wanting to spend anything on the musical, the kids social media use, and that the kids actually look like regular kids who live in regular houses and go to a regular high school

Such a talented cast! Olivia Rodrigo is a showstopper, what a wonderful rendition of Start of Something New that was and Joshua Bassett seems born to play Ricky. Sofia is an amazing dancer and I’m excited to see some of the productions they put on later in the season

Miss Jenn reminds me of April Rhodes from Glee and I mean that as a compliment. Her delivery of, ‘’that is so fresh’’ still makes me laugh. I love that she cast Ricky as Troy on a whim for maximum drama and of course she wants a Ms. Darbus song, she’s an agent of chaos and I’m here for it. I also liked her begging her mom for car loan payment money, you’re not really a millennial if you haven’t lived pay cheque to cheque at some point

Even though we’ve seen them in the trailer, Carlos’ first 15 minutes of both sequels and Broadway lines still made me chuckle

I like the glimpses we get of the kids home lives. Very refreshing to see Nini’s two moms and see that she has a mixed race family and with Andi Mack off of Disney Channel, tonight’s showing of HSMTMTS might be the last time any kind of lgbtq rep is seen on Disney Channel itself for quite a while. Her grandma looks too young to be in a nursing home but it was nice to see her helping Nini with her self-confidence. Poor Ricky with his parents marriage collapsing, that’s gonna be a tearjerker if and when his mom returns from Chicago to officially end things with his dad. Seems like Gina’s mom has high expectations of her which eventually lead to their scene we saw in the promo where Gina breaks down

We dove right into the love triangle at the heart of this season: Nicky vs NJ. As I was watching the first flashback scene between Nini and Ricky, I thought to myself that if they keep writing them scenes like this I just might become Nicky trash, I was trying to stay neutral but after Ricky’s audition I’m definitely team Ricky, that really was the #ultimatecomeback. Ricky singing ‘’I Think I Kind of You Know’’, the song Nini wrote for him was just too sweet; it warmed even my cold, black heart. And that shot of Ricky and EJ lighting Nini with their phones and forming a triangle? Poetic cinema

It really does seem like Nicky is the endgame ship with NJ just an obstacle in its path especially with Nini having been in love with Ricky just six weeks ago and only having met EJ four weeks ago. EJ is very supportive of Nini and I did like how sweet he is with her, that line about her being a cute chorus cow was great. I saw on Disney +’s twitter poll that the fandom is split about 66% team Ricky to 33% team EJ which is an interesting split but also reflects the writing tipping it’s hand, it does want us to like NJ but not at the expense of Nicky

One thing that I don’t like so far is the age gap between Olivia and Matt, she’s 16 and he’s 21 and they both look their age. I’m not saying that all teen roles need to be played by teens but that age gap is significant when they’re playing girlfriend and boyfriend and was an unforced error on the shows part. It reminds me of the problems GMW suffered by casting a much older Peyton Meyer to play Riley’s love interest. Matt Cornett’s age as well as EJ being the only senior of the main cast is another hint that he won’t be playing Nini’s love interest past this season

I do hope that however this love triangle ends that it’s done as cleanly as possible. Love triangles are rarely pulled off well because the show or movie or book will usually tip its hand fairly quickly as to which is the ‘real’ ship but they also usually end up damaging the characters involved. In this case Ricky is not just a rival for Nini’s affections but a would be homewrecker who’s set out to breakup Nini and EJ which if not handled carefully could make Ricky look like a bad guy

As an aside, Nini having a shirtless photo of EJ on her phone and her and Ricky hanging out alone in her bedroom in the flashback is spicy for Disney but does at least gesture more to the reality of teen life than the typical squeaky clean Disney fare

Carlos is the colour guard captain, that was in the original casting notice (back when Carlos was named Vikram) and Tim Federle mentioned in an interview that he based Carlos off of one of his best friends who was also a colour guard captain. I’ve been wondering for a couple of weeks now if Frankie Rodriguez was actually allowed to reveal that Carlos is gay because it hasn’t been talked about in interviews or mentioned in any reviews so far. His line about EJ not knowing who he is, seems like it could potentially be set up for an arc about Carlos trying to make himself known. He knew that Seb wanted to try out for Sharpay rather than Ryan so presumably he already knows him? We know that something is being teased between him and Seb but I won’t hold my breathe for getting very much from Disney, at least this season

Not much to say about the other characters so far. Kourtney is barely a step above the sassy black friend trope but I think some of it has to due with the fact that Tim Federle originally just wanted Kourtney to be a one off supportive friend for Nini but so liked the actress that he decided to make her a main. Ashlyn is supposed to have a powerful duet with Nini in the second ep so that is something to look forward to as is her relationship with her cousin EJ. Big Red is a nice supportive friend and that’s about it. Not much to Mr. Mazara either. It does seem like the dividing line between major and lesser main characters are those who have lead roles in the musical itself

I love that the mockumentary interviews happen even when they make absolutely no sense in universe

We get some full character names from the cast list: Seb Matthew- Smith, Ricky Bowen, EJ Caswell, Gina Porter, and Nini Salazar-Roberts

Looking Ahead:

I read in reviews that EJ teams up with Gina to take down Ricky while Gina tries to take down Nini. That’s a pretty easy path to villainize EJ and sink NJ eventually while then using EJ’s panic attacks and Gina’s story line with her mom to build them back up. I sincerely hope that they don’t even try to go for one sided Gina and EJ as Sofia is the youngest cast member

Sofia did say that Gina would make things complicated for the love triangle and in a promo clip she said she was ‘intrigued’ by Ricky so we’ll see what happens

Miss Jenn supposedly left New York in unclear circumstances so I wonder where they’ll go with that. My own theory is that she used to be an extra on Law and Order: SVU and was having a torrid affair with Dan Florek before being exposed

I’ll try to have these reviews up Friday evenings but that’s dependent on when I can watch the eps. Because the pilot aired on tv we’ll actually get ratings either Monday or Tuesday which will be the only time we’ll get publicly released data otherwise all we’ll get is what Disney wants us to know and that will often just be spin. I’m very excited for this season and for season two and I can’t wait to see what’s ahead. Until next week wildcats

#HSMTMTS #HSM #Ricky Bowen #Nini Salazar-Roberts #EJ Caswell #Nicky #NJ #Gina Porter #Sofia Wylie #HSMTMTS Reviews #Miss Jenn #Carlos #seb matthew-smith

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mattbrothersscriptwriter · 5 years ago

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My Top 20 Films of 2019 - Part Two

I don’t think I’ve had a year where my top ten jostled and shifted as much as this one did - these really are the best of the best and my personal favourites of 2019.

10. Toy Story 4

I think we can all agree that Toy Story 3 was a pretty much perfect conclusion to a perfect trilogy right? About as close as is likely to get, I’m sure. I shared the same trepidation when part four was announced, especially after some underwhelming sequels like Finding Dory and Cars 3 (though I do have a lot of time for Monsters University and Incredibles 2). So maybe it’s because the odds were so stacked against this being good but I thought it was wonderful. A truly existential nightmare of an epilogue that does away with Andy (and mostly kids altogether) to focus on the dreams and desires of the toys themselves - separate from their ‘duties’ as playthings to biological Gods. What is their purpose in life without an owner? Can they be their own person and carve their own path? In the case of breakout new character Forky (Tony Hale), what IS life? Big big questions for a cash grab kids films huh?

The animation is somehow yet another huge leap forward (that opening rainstorm!), Bo Peep’s return is excellently pitched and the series tradition of being unnervingly horrifying is back as well thanks to those creepy ventriloquist dolls! Keanu Reeves continues his ‘Keanuassaince‘ as the hilarious Duke Caboom and this time, hopefully, the ending at least feels finite. This series means so much to me: I think the first movie is possibly the tightest, most perfect script ever written, the third is one of my favourites of the decade and growing up with the franchise (I was 9 when the first came out, 13 for part two, 24 for part three and now 32 for this one), these characters are like old friends so of course it was great to see them again. All this film had to do was be good enough to justify its existence and while there are certainly those out there that don’t believe this one managed it, I think the fact that it went as far as it did showed that Pixar are still capable of pushing boundaries and exploring infinity and beyond when they really put their minds to it.

9. The Nightingale

Hoo boy. Already controversial with talk of mass walkouts (I witnessed a few when this screened at Sundance London), it’s not hard to see why but easy to understand. Jennifer Kent (The Babadook) is a truly fearless filmmaker following up her acclaimed suburban horror movie come grief allegory with a period revenge tale set in the Tasmanian wilderness during British colonial rule in the early 1800s. It’s rare to see the British depicted with the monstrous brutality for which they were known in the distant colonies and this unflinching drama sorely needed an Australian voice behind the camera to do it justice.

The film is front loaded with some genuinely upsetting, nasty scenes of cruel violence but its uncensored brutality and the almost casual nature of its depiction is entirely the point - this was normalised behaviour over there and by treating it so matter of factly, it doesn’t slip into gratuitous ‘movie violence’. It is what it is. And what it is is hard to watch. If anything, as Kent has often stated, it’s still toned down from the actual atrocities that occurred so it’s a delicate balance that I think Kent more than understands. Quoting from an excellent Vanity Fair interview she did about how she directs, Kent said “I think audiences have become very anaesthetised to violence on screen and it’s something I find disturbing... People say ‘these scenes are so shocking and disturbing’. Of course they are. We need to feel that. When we become so removed from violence on screen, this is a very irresponsible thing. So I wanted to put us right within the frame with that person experiencing the loss of everything they hold dear”.

Aisling Franciosi is next level here as a woman who has her whole life torn from her, leaving her as nothing but a raging husk out for vengeance. It would be so easy to fall into odd couple tropes once she teams up with reluctant native tracker Billy (an equally impressive newcomer, Baykali Ganambarr) but the film continues to stay true to the harsh racism of the era, unafraid to depict our heroine - our point of sympathy - as horrendously racist towards her own ally. Their partnership is not easily solidified but that makes it all the stronger when they star to trust each other. Sam Claflin is also career best here, weaponizing his usual charm into dangerous menace and even after cementing himself as the year’s most evil villain, he can still draw out the humanity in such a broken and corrupt man.

Gorgeously shot in the Academy ratio, the forest landscape here is oppressive and claustrophobic. Kent also steps back into her horror roots with some mesmerising, skin crawling dream scenes that amplify the woozy nightmarish tone and overbearing sense of dread. Once seen, never forgotten, this is not going to be everyone’s cup of tea (and that’s fine) but when cinema can affect you on such a visceral level and be this powerful, reflective and honest about our own past, it’s hard to ignore. Stunning.

8. The Irishman

Aka Martin Scorsese’s magnum opus, I did manage to see this one in a cinema before the Netflix drop and absolutely loved it. I’ve watched 85 minute long movies that felt longer than this - Marty’s mastery of pace, energy and knowing when to let things play out in agonising detail is second to none. This epic tale of the life of Frank Sheeran (Robert De Niro) really is the cinematic equivalent of having your cake and eating it too, allowing Scorsese to run through a greatest hits victory lap of mobster set pieces, alpha male arguments, a decades spanning life story and one (last?) truly great Joe Pesci performance before simply letting the story... continue... to a natural, depressing and tragic ending, reflecting the emptiness of a life built on violence and crime.

For a film this long, it’s impressive how much the smallest details make the biggest impacts. A stammering phone call from a man emotionally incapable of offering any sort of condolence. The cold refusal of forgiveness from a once loving daughter. A simple mirroring of a bowl of cereal or a door left slightly ajar. These are the parts of life that haunt us all and it’s what we notice the most in a deliberately lengthy biopic that shows how much these things matter when everything else is said and done. The violence explodes in sudden, sharp bursts, often capping off unbearably tense sequences filled with the everyday (a car ride, a conversation about fish, ice cream...) and this contrast between the whizz bang of classic Scorsese and the contemplative nature of Silence era Scorsese is what makes this film feel like such an accomplishment. De Niro is FINALLY back but it’s the memorably against type role for Pesci and an invigorated Al Pacino who steals this one, along with a roll call of fantastic cameos, with perhaps the most screentime given to the wonderfully petty Stephen Graham as Tony Pro, not to mention Anna Paquin’s near silent performance which says more than possibly anyone else.

Yes, the CG de-aging is misguided at best, distracting at worst (I never really knew how old anyone was meant to be at any given time... which is kinda a problem) but like how you get used to it really quickly when it’s used well, here I kinda got past it being bad in an equally fast amount of time and just went with it. Would it have been a different beast had they cast younger actors to play them in the past? Undoubtedly. But if this gives us over three hours of Hollywood’s finest giving it their all for the last real time together, then that’s a compromise I can live with.

7. The Last Black Man in San Francisco

Wow. I was in love with this film from the moving first trailer but then the film itself surpassed all expectations. This is a true indie film success story, with lead actor Jimmie Fails developing the idea with director Joe Talbot for years before Kickstarting a proof of concept and eventually getting into Sundance with short film American Paradise, which led to the backing of this debut feature through Plan B and A24. The deeply personal and poetic drama follows a fictionalised version of Jimmie, trying to buy back an old Victorian town house he claims was built by his grandfather, in an act of rebellion against the increasingly gentrified San Francisco that both he and director Talbot call home.

The film is many things - a story of male friendship, of solidarity within our community, of how our cities can change right from underneath us - it moves to the beat of it’s own drum, with painterly cinematography full of gorgeous autumnal colours and my favourite score of the year from Emile Mosseri. The performances, mostly by newcomers or locals outside of brilliant turns from Jonathan Majors, Danny Glover and Thora Birch, are wonderful and the whole thing is such a beautiful love letter to the city that it makes you ache for a strong sense of place in your own home, even if your relationship with it is fractured or strained. As Jimmie says, “you’re not allowed to hate it unless you love it”.

For me, last year’s Blindspotting (my favourite film of the year) tackled gentrification within California more succinctly but this much more lyrical piece of work ebbs and flows through a number of themes like identity, family, memory and time. It’s a big film living inside a small, personal one and it is not to be overlooked.

6. Little Women

I had neither read the book nor seen any prior adaptation of Louisa May Alcott’s 1868 novel so to me, this is by default the definitive telling of this story. If from what I hear, the non linear structure is Greta Gerwig’s addition, then it’s a total slam dunk. It works so well in breaking up the narrative and by jumping from past to present, her screenplay highlights certain moments and decisions with a palpable sense of irony, emotional weight or knowing wink. Getting to see a statement made with sincere conviction and then paid off within seconds, can be both a joy and a surefire recipe for tears. Whether it’s the devastating contrast between scenes centred around Beth’s illness or the juxtaposition of character’s attitudes to one another, it’s a massive triumph. Watching Amy angrily tell Laurie how she’s been in love with him all her life and then cutting back to her childishly making a plaster cast of her foot for him (’to remind him how small her feet are’) is so funny.

Gerwig and her impeccable cast bring an electric energy to the period setting, capturing the big, messy realities of family life with a mix of overwhelming cross-chatter and the smallest of intimate gestures. It’s a testament to the film that every sister feels fully serviced and represented, from Beth’s quiet strength to Amy’s unforgivable sibling rivalry. Chris Cooper’s turn as a stoic man suffering almost imperceptible grief is a personal heartbreaking favourite.

The book’s (I’m assuming) most sweeping romantic statements are wonderfully delivered, full of urgent passion and relatable heartache, from Marmie’s (Laura Dern) “I’m angry nearly every day of my life” moment to Jo’s (Saoirse Ronan) painful defiance of feminine attributes not being enough to cure her loneliness. The sheer amount of heart and warmth in this is just remarkable and I can easily see it being a film I return to again and again.

5. Booksmart

2019 has been a banner year for female directors, making their exclusion from some of the early awards conversations all the more damning. From this list alone, we have Lulu Wang, Jennifer Kent and Greta Gerwig. Not to mention Lorene Scafaria (Hustlers), Melina Matsoukas (Queen & Slim), Jocelyn DeBoer & Dawn Luebbe (Greener Grass), Sophie Hyde (Animals) and Rose Glass (Saint Maud - watch out for THIS one in 2020, it’s brilliant). Perhaps the most natural transition from in front of to behind the camera has been made by Olivia Wilde, who has created a borderline perfect teen comedy that can make you laugh till you cry, cry till you laugh and everything in-between.

Subverting the (usually male focused) ‘one last party before college’ tropes that fuel the likes of Superbad and it’s many inferior imitators, Booksmart follows two overachievers who, rather than go on a coming of age journey to get some booze or get laid, simply want to indulge in an insane night of teenage freedom after realising that all of the ‘cool kids’ who they assumed were dropouts, also managed to get a place in all of the big universities. It’s a subtly clever remix of an old favourite from the get go but the committed performances from Kaitlyn Dever and Beanie Feldstein put you firmly in their shoes for the whole ride.

It’s a genuine blast, with big laughs and a bigger heart, portraying a supportive female friendship that doesn’t rely on hokey contrivances to tear them apart, meaning that when certain repressed feelings do come to the surface, the fallout is heartbreaking. As I stated in a twitter rave after first seeing it back in May, every single character, no matter how much they might appear to be simply representing a stock role or genre trope, gets their moment to be humanised. This is an impeccably cast ensemble of young unknowns who constantly surprise and the script is a marvel - a watertight structure without a beat out of place, callbacks and payoffs to throwaway gags circle back to be hugely important and most of all, the approach taken to sexuality and representation feels so natural. I really think it is destined to be looked back on and represent 2019 the way Heathers does ‘88, Clueless ‘95 or Easy A 2010. A new high benchmark for crowd pleasing, indie comedy - teen or otherwise.

4. Ad Astra

Brad Pitt is one of my favourite actors and one who, despite still being a huge A-lister even after 30 years in the game, never seems to get enough credit for the choices he makes, the movies he stars in and also the range of stories he helps produce through his company, Plan B. 2019 was something of a comeback year for Pitt as an actor with the insanely measured and controlled lead performance seen here in Ad Astra and the more charismatic and chaotic supporting role in Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood.

I love space movies, especially those that are more about broken people blasting themselves into the unknown to search for answers within themselves... which manages to sum up a lot of recent output in this weirdly specific sub-genre. First Man was a devastating look at grief characterised by a man who would rather go to a desolate rock than have to confront what he lost, all while being packaged as a heroic biopic with a stunning score. Gravity and The Martian both find their protagonists forced to rely on their own cunning and ingenuity to survive and Interstellar looked at the lengths we go to for those we love left behind. Smaller, arty character studies like High Life or Moon are also astounding. All of this is to say that Ad Astra takes these concepts and runs with them, challenging Pitt to cross the solar system to talk some sense into his long thought dead father (Tommy Lee Jones). But within all the ‘sad dad’ stuff, there’s another film in here just daring you to try and second guess it - one that kicks things off with a terrifying free fall from space, gives us a Mad Max style buggy chase on the moon and sidesteps into horror for one particular set-piece involving a rabid baboon in zero G! It manages to feel so completely nuts, so episodic in structure, that I understand why a lot of people were turned off - feeling that the overall film was too scattershot to land the drama or too pondering to have any fun with. I get the criticisms but for me, both elements worked in tandem, propelling Pitt on this (assumed) one way journey at a crazy pace whilst sitting back and languishing in the ‘bigger themes’ more associated with a Malik or Kubrick film. Something that Pitt can sell me on in his sleep by this point.

I loved the visuals from cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema (Interstellar), loved the imagination and flair of the script from director James Gray and Ethan Gross and loved the score by Max Richter (with Lorne Balfe and Nils Frahm) but most of all, loved Pitt, proving that sometimes a lot less, is a lot more. The sting of hearing the one thing he surely knew (but hoped he wouldn’t) be destined to hear from his absent father, acted almost entirely in his eyes during a third act confrontation, summed up the movie’s brilliance for me - so much so that I can forgive some of the more outlandish ‘Mr Hyde’ moments of this thing’s alter ego... like, say, riding a piece of damaged hull like a surfboard through a meteor debris field!

3. Avengers: Endgame

It’s no secret that I think Marvel, the MCU in particular, have been going from strength to strength in recent years, slowly but surely taking bigger risks with filmmakers (the bonkers Taika Waititi, the indie darlings of Ryan Coogler, Cate Shortland and Chloe Zhao) whilst also carefully crafting an entertaining, interconnected universe of characters and stories. But what is the point of building up any movie ‘universe’ if you’re not going to pay it off and Endgame is perhaps the strongest conclusion to eleven years of movie sequels that fans could have possibly hoped for.

Going into this thing, the hype was off the charts (and for good reason, with it now being the highest grossing film of all time) but I remember souring on the first entry of this two-parter, Infinity War, during the time between initial release and Endgame’s premiere. That film had a game-changing climax, killing off half the heroes (and indeed the universe’s population) and letting the credits role on the villain having achieved his ultimate goal. It was daring, especially for a mammoth summer blockbuster but obviously, we all knew the deaths would never be permanent, especially with so many already-announced sequels for now ‘dusted’ characters. However, it wasn’t just the feeling that everything would inevitably be alright in the end. For me, the characters themselves felt hugely under-serviced, with arguably the franchise’s main goody two shoes Captain America being little more than a beardy bloke who showed up to fight a little bit. Basically what I’m getting at is that I felt Endgame, perhaps emboldened by the giant runtime, managed to not only address these character slights but ALSO managed to deliver the most action packed, comic booky, ‘bashing your toys together’ final fight as well.

It’s a film of three parts, each pretty much broken up into one hour sections. There’s the genuinely new and interesting initial section following our heroes dealing with the fact that they lost... and it stuck. Thor angrily kills Thanos within the first fifteen minutes but it’s a meaningless action by this point - empty revenge. Cutting to five years later, we get to see how defeat has affected them, for better or worse, trying to come to terms with grief and acceptance. Cap tries to help the everyman, Black Widow is out leading an intergalactic mop up squad and Thor is wallowing in a depressive black hole. It’s a shocking and vibrantly compelling deconstruction of the whole superhero thing and it gives the actors some real meat to chew on, especially Robert Downy Jr here who goes from being utterly broken to fighting within himself to do the right thing despite now having a daughter he doesn’t want to lose too. Part two is the trip down memory lane, fan service-y time heist which is possibly the most fun section of any of these movies, paying tribute to the franchise’s past whilst teetering on a knife’s edge trying to pull off a genuine ‘mission impossible’. And then it explodes into the extended finale which pays everyone off, demonstrates some brilliantly imaginative action and sticks the landing better than it had any right to. In a year which saw the ending of a handful of massive geek properties, from Game of Thrones to Star Wars, it’s a miracle even one of them got it right at all. That Endgame managed to get it SO right is an extraordinary accomplishment and if anything, I think Marvel may have shot themselves in the foot as it’s hard to imagine anything they can give us in the future having the intense emotional weight and momentum of this huge finale.

2. Knives Out

Rian Johnson has been having a ball leaping into genre sandpits and stirring shit up, from his teen spin on noir in Brick to his quirky con man caper with The Brothers Bloom, his time travel thriller Looper and even his approach to the Star Wars mythos in The Last Jedi. Turning his attention to the relatively dead ‘whodunnit’ genre, Knives Out is a perfect example of how to celebrate everything that excites you about a genre whilst weaponizing it’s tropes against your audience’s baggage and preconceptions.

An impeccable cast have the time of their lives here, revelling in playing self obsessed narcissists who scramble to punt the blame around when the family’s patriarch, a successful crime novelist (Christopher Plummer), winds up dead. Of course there’s something fishy going on so Daniel Craig’s brilliantly dry southern detective Benoit Blanc is called in to investigate.There are plenty of standouts here, from Don Johnson’s ignorant alpha wannabe Richard to Michael Shannon’s ferocious eldest son Walt to Chris Evan’s sweater wearing jock Ransom, full of unchecked, white privilege swagger. But the surprise was the wholly sympathetic, meek, vomit prone Marta, played brilliantly by Ana de Armas, cast against her usual type of sultry bombshell (Knock Knock, Blade Runner 2049), to spearhead the biggest shake up of the genre conventions. To go into more detail would begin to tread into spoiler territory but by flipping the audience’s engagement with the detective, we’re suddenly on the receiving end of the scrutiny and the tension derived from this switcheroo is genius and opens up the second act of the story immensely.

The whole thing is so lovingly crafted and the script is one of the tightest I’ve seen in years. The amount of setup and payoff here is staggering and never not hugely satisfying, especially as it heads into it’s final stretch. It really gives you some hope that you could have such a dense, plotty, character driven idea for a story and that it could survive the transition from page to screen intact and for the finished product to work as well as it does. I really hope Johnson returns to tell another Benoit Blanc mystery and judging by the roaring box office success (currently over $200 million worldwide for a non IP original), I certainly believe he will.

1. Eighth Grade

My film of the year is another example of the power of cinema to put us in other people’s shoes and to discover the traits, fears, joys and insecurities that we all share irregardless. It may shock you to learn this but I have never been a 13 year old teenage girl trying to get by in the modern world of social media peer pressure and ‘influencer’ culture whilst crippled with personal anxiety. My school days almost literally could not have looked more different than this (less Instagram, more POGs) and yet, this is a film about struggling with oneself, with loneliness, with wanting more but not knowing how to get it without changing yourself and the careless way we treat those with our best interests at heart in our selfish attempt to impress peers and fit in. That is understandable. That is universal. And as I’m sure I’ve said a bunch of times in this list, movies that present the most specific worldview whilst tapping into universal themes are the ones that inevitably resonate the most.

Youtuber and comedian Bo Burnham has crafted an impeccable debut feature, somehow portraying a generation of teens at least a couple of generations below his own, with such laser focused insight and intimate detail. It’s no accident that this film has often been called a sort of social-horror, with cringe levels off the charts and recognisable trappings of anxiety and depression in every frame. The film’s style services this feeling at every turn, from it’s long takes and nauseous handheld camerawork to the sensory overload in it’s score (take a bow Anna Meredith) and the naturalistic performances from all involved. Burnham struck gold when he found Elsie Fisher, delivering the most painful and effortlessly real portrayal of a tweenager in crisis as Kayla. The way she glances around skittishly, the way she is completely lost in her phone, the way she talks, even the way she breathes all feeds into the illusion - the film is oftentimes less a studio style teen comedy and more a fly on the wall documentary.

This is a film that could have coasted on being a distant, social media based cousin to more standard fare like Sex Drive or Superbad or even Easy A but it goes much deeper, unafraid to let you lower your guard and suddenly hit you with the most terrifying scene of casually attempted sexual aggression or let you watch this pure, kindhearted girl falter and question herself in ways she shouldn’t even have to worry about. And at it’s core, there is another beautiful father/daughter relationship, with Josh Hamilton stuck on the outside looking in, desperate to help Kayla with every fibre of his being but knowing there are certain things she has to figure out for herself. It absolutely had me and their scene around a backyard campfire is one of the year’s most touching.

This is a truly remarkable film that I think everyone should seek out but I’m especially excited for all the actual teenage girls who will get to watch this and feel seen. This isn’t about the popular kid, it isn’t about the dork who hangs out with his or her own band of misfits. This is about the true loner, that person trying everything to get noticed and still ending up invisible, that person trying to connect through the most disconnected means there is - the internet - and everything that comes with it. Learning that the version of yourself you ‘portray’ on a Youtube channel may act like they have all the answers but if you’re kidding yourself then how do you grow?

When I saw this in the cinema, I watched a mother take her seat with her two daughters, aged probably at around nine and twelve. Possibly a touch young for this, I thought, and I admit I cringed a bit on their behalf during some very adult trailers but in the end, I’m glad their mum decided they were mature enough to see this because a) they had a total blast and b) life simply IS R rated for the most part, especially during our school years, and those girls being able to see someone like Kayla have her story told on the big screen felt like a huge win. I honestly can’t wait to see what Burnham or Fisher decide to do next. 2019 has absolutely been their year... and it’s been a hell of a year.

#top 20 #films of the year #films of 2019 #10-1 #toy story 4 #the nightingale #the irishman #the last black man in san francisco #little women #booksmart #ad astra #avengers endgame #knives out #eighth grade

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multi-fandom-writer · 5 years ago

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the boy with the colors

part 2

Masterlist

Part 1

taglist: open, just send me an ask! word count: 2.3k warnings: like one swear at the end, but other than that fluff

Blond. Harrison’s hair was blond. Maybe it was closer to dark blond. It’s definitely dark blond. His hair color complimented his skin tone immensely. The tan skin stretching over his upper arms was a sight almost as beautiful as the natural world, before it was inhibited by mankind. The boy’s laugh was more intoxicating than the finest of wines. All of his positive attributes caused you to wonder how he hadn’t found his soulmate yet. You had spent a considerable amount of time thinking about the blond haired boy that introduced you to the vibrantly colored world.

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” Tom’s voice was smug. He was right about you and Harrison and he knew it. If you were being honest, you knew it, too. So, you decided to humor the actor.

“Please, Thomas. Who else would I be thinking about?” You made eye contact with him in the mirror as he chuckled.

“He hasn’t been able to stop talking about you, honestly. He saw the color green yesterday and he told me it reminded him of your emerald green eyes,” Tom tells you, still chuckling. You, however, did not find what Tom said laugh-worthy. Harrison had noticed your eyes. He had noticed how they looked like emeralds and something reminded him of them. Harrison hadn’t been able to stop talking about you. The joy was bubbling over in your stomach. “You need to talk to him, y/n.”

“Tom, I-I can’t. His career is just taking off, he won’t have time for a relationship. He is very well-known. He could very well reject me,” your voice stopped, but you were still coming up with reasons as to why this couldn’t be your reality. Harrison lived in London, and you were from a small town in South Dakota. Harrison wouldn’t be interested in you. You weren’t a girl that liked the spotlight, you preferred to be behind the scenes.

When you imagined your perfect soulmate, you thought of reading books together and being comforted when a character died, baking cookies just to get into flour fights, and showering together after, cuddling up with a warm blanket and good movie during thunderstorms. You thought of all the late night activities you would be doing with him: strolling through the park, making a baby, taking care of said baby, having long talks and endless cuddles. You couldn’t see Harrison giving up his life of partying and being a celebrity to do that with anyone, least of all you. You were not deserving of Harrison Osterfield. At least, not in your eyes.

“Darling, he won’t say no. He just doesn’t know how to go about this. Obviously, it’s new territory for him,” Tom comforted you. “I can tell your thinking of all the excuses in the book. I can see the hamster running on its little wheel inside your brain.”

The comment made you chuckle. Not only chuckle, but straight out laugh. “Thomas Holland, we are done talking about this.” you asserted with a hint of a smile on your lips.

“Sure we are,” he answered with a shrug.

“We. Are.” You enunciated as Harrison walked up to the two of you holding not one, but two coffees.

The first was still steaming as he handed it off to Tom. The second, however, was and iced caramel latte, which just happened to be your favorite. Harrison was holding the light brown coffee out to you. Remembering the brief moment when you mentioned to Tom that iced caramel lattes were your favorite, you took the coffee with a smile and tried to hide the deep blush spreading across your face. He was such a little shit sometimes, and you made a mental note to inform him of that later.

The three of you had a rather boring conversation about your weekend plans, which of course Tom initiated, before he had to leave to start filming on some of his scenes. Tom was barely ten feet away before the words left your mouth. “I can see colors now…” the words were soft and trailed off toward the end. Vulnerability dripped from the words you uttered, although they didn’t even seem like your own.

The tall boy in front of you stood, frozen in time. A minute went by that you hoped, you prayed he didn’t hear you. When a smirk appeared on the gorgeous boy’s face, you knew that he had in fact heard your words. “I saw a few lovely green leaves yesterday,” he began, his voice smooth like honey. “They reminded me of your eyes, but they weren’t quite the exact color,” he paused, his eyes gazing directly into yours. “The leaves, they were darker green, but your eyes,” he studied your eyes for a second, although it felt like an eternity, “they’re closer to emerald green. They sparkle in the light,” his words were poetic, bringing tears to your eyes. If he could speak this way only about the color of your eyes, what could he say about the rest of you: your personality, your insecurities, and your passions. Harrison said the words you were thinking, “I think you might be the one.” He tucked his bottom lip under his teeth, a sign that he was extremely nervous.

You only nodded, not being able to form a coherent sentence. He extended his hand out to you, a warm smile still spread across his face. You spoke without thinking, “You are the one.” Your voice was quiet and timid; it was much more fragile than usual. You moved to grab his hand gently, his hand holding onto yours with a firm, but tender grip.

“Do you want to take this slow or just go all in?” He asks, running his thumb over your knuckles. You knew what he meant though: do you want to keep this quiet or go public? Do you want to be confined to takeout on the couch or be scrutinized every time you go out in public with him. In reality, nobody could argue that you two were soulmates. People could doubt and speculate all they wanted to, but very few would be brave enough to call Harrison a liar. Still, you were unsure about being in the spotlight.

“Let’s just go slow for now,” you concluded.

“If we’re going to keep private, we should stop holding hands then…” his eyes met yours as you ever so slightly shook your head. His eyes lit up as whispered, “how scandalous,” in your ear.

You let a giggle slip past your lips at the words. “You think we could watch a movie tonight?” you asked, noticing the light pink flowers on his button up shirt.

“I don’t know if we’ll be able to get Tom out of the trailer for long enough, darling,” Harrison replied, moving his thumb in circles over the back of your hand.

“I think my place will work just fine,” you said with a small smirk.

Twelve exhausting hours later, Harrison was standing in your kitchen, putting a bag of popcorn in the microwave. “Come on. We have to watch the original before we watch Fallen Kingdom,” Harrison spoke, waiting for the popcorn to finish.

“But Fallen Kingdom is so much better,” you argued with a giggle and got bowls down from the cupboard.

“That isn’t a valid point, Y/n,” he laughs as the popcorn gets done. “We might just have to watch the first movie or two tonight and then finish this little date this weekend,” he offers with a smirk plastered across his face.

“Woah, slow down there, bud. I agreed to one movie tonight,” you joked.

“Are you telling me you don’t want to spend time with me?” he asked, throwing a piece of popcorn at you.

“Don’t even start with me, Harrison Osterfield. I have spent the better part of my day with you,” you answered, tossing a piece of popcorn in you mouth and walking to your living room.

Harrison followed after you and sat on your couch. “Yeah but Tom was with us, too,” he whines. “I want you all to myself.”

“Aww, poor pretty boy,” you fake pout as you sit next to him, leaving a few inches between the two of you.

Even from the corner of your eye, you couldn’t have missed the way he perked up at your words. “You called me pretty,” his voice was barely audible as he said it. “You think I’m pretty?” His eyes were focused on you instead of the screen.

Making eye contact with him, you saw how much he needed to hear this from you. Harrison was a very nice looking boy. He had thousands of girls fawning over his pictures, even though most of them could only see them in black and white. He was used to being objectified for his looks. He knew how good he looked, but he needed someone there for him. The last person he needed to objectify him was his soulmate.

“Yeah, I think you’re pretty, but I also think you’re really kind-hearted and sweet,” you answered, reaching out to hold his hand. “You think you have something to prove to me, but you don’t. You don’t need to be the smooth pretty boy that has everything figured out. Not around me, okay?” you let out softly. Harrison froze, his hand wrapped around yours. You moved closer to him, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand.

He wrapped his arms around you, letting you rest your head on his chest. “I’m not used to being myself around people. I have a reputation.” The simple confession left a comfortable silence between you and him. His arms stayed wrapped around you throughout the movie, holding you close to him. His hands rested over yours, with his fingers drawing light patterns over your soft skin. By the end of the movie, both you and Harrison were nearly asleep, your bodies still entangled together. There was a point where your two bodies became one: you could hear his deep breathing and feel his steady heartbeat, your hands were holding onto his tightly, his warm breaths were brushing on the skin of your neck and giving you goosebumps.

“You should stay here tonight, it’s like almost midnight,” you mumbled to the sleepy boy behind you. When he didn’t respond at first, you thought he had actually fallen asleep. Not that you could hold that against him; you knew how stressful his job could be.

When you moved to see if he was really sleeping, his arms tightened around you. “I heard you, darling. I agree with you,” his voice held obvious exhaustion as his words passed through his lips. “You can go to bed, I’ll sleep out here.”

“We’re soulmates, you aren’t sleeping on the couch,” you reply softly, playing with his long fingers. His hand was relaxed, letting you move it however you wanted to.

“I’m too tired to get up, though,” he murmured.

“Come on, my bed is really comfortable,” you answered him, starting to stand up. He only looked up at you, moving his hand out for you to pull him up. You helped him up and lead him to your room, keeping your hand locked in his. “I’m gonna grab a pair of sweats for you to change into,” you whispered, letting your hand slip from his.

“No, it’s fine, really,” he tried convincing you not to, but you were already holding the sweats out to him.

He shook his head and took the clothes from you. “You can change in the bathroom, I’ll change out here.” You nodded and walked into your en suite. After changing, you walked out to see Harrison clad in your sweatpants and his shirt.

You couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped your lips, “you can sleep shirtless, Harrison.” Your sleepy state made this situation all the more hilarious to you. Your eyes caught his dumbfounded face and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. “Really Harrison, you can sleep without your shirt on,” your hand was now covering your stomach, which was aching from your laughing.

He quirked an eyebrow at you as he slid his shirt over his head in one fluid motion. The beautiful expanse of skin covering his abs was enough to quiet you, immediately. “Yeah, thought that’d shut you up,” he quips, tossing his shirt somewhere on the floor. He smirked as you moved the blankets back and climbed into your bed. “Wanna cuddle?” He asked, watching as a deep blush rose to your cheeks. “You know you want to, peach. I can see it,” he chuckles, laying next you and reaching out to hold your hand.

Your fingers wrapped around his as you sleepily mumbled, “I could go for some cud-”

You were cut off by Harrison pulling you into his bare, but warm body. His muscular arms were wrapped around you for the second time in the same night. You had never felt safer than you did in this moment. You still had your reservations, but there was no doubt that he made you feel safe. Whether you liked it or not, Harrison Osterfield was the person; he was your person. You listened to his calming heartbeat before he spoke up, “imagine going to sleep like this every night.”

Too tired to answer fully, you answered, “keep talking, please.”

His voice was smooth as silk as he went on, “we can have kids someday, if you want them. Maybe a few dogs, too. We could get a nice house with a big backyard and take our fifteen dogs and two kids to the park for picnics.” You can hear the lazy smile through his words. You can tell how excited he is to just be talking about this with you, more so to you as the situation stands.

“Yeah, sounds really nice,” you whispered as your eyes fluttered shut. Maybe you were wrong. Perhaps the universe had not made a mistake and Harrison really would give up his glamorous life in the spotlight to have a love-filled family life. You fell asleep, for the first time in your life, in the arms of the man the universe destined you to be with. And you had to admit, it felt damn good. For now. . .

---

taglist: @stuckonspidey @mrs-hollandstan @thollandss

#the boy with the colors #tbwtc #harrison osterfield #harrison x reader #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield x reader #soulmate!harrison #soulmate!haz #soulmate!au

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stattic-writes · 5 years ago

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Graffiti

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happymetalgirl · 5 years ago

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Rammstein - untitled

As soon as it was confirmed for 2019, Rammstein’s seventh studio album was always going to be one of the biggest metal releases of the year, if not the biggest, and it was actually nice to see the band use that to their advantage and give the album a worthily ceremonial roll-out. The promotion alone was a welcome return to times when big artists generally put more effort into their album promo cycles. I get that it got a little overdone in its time, and I get that not every artist has at their disposal the means to give their upcoming records the kind of red carpet treatment that Rammstein has given theirs. And sudden/short-notice, unprecedented album drops have been a cool way for artists to show their confidence in their work and reputation to build their own hype on exactly that suddenness. But in a day and age where sudden project releases carry much less surprise factor now and seem more to be symptomatic of short attention spans and capitalizing on a trend, Rammstein's more magnificent promotional phase for their first album in a decade was a nice change of pace, for me at least. From the incrementally released trailers and teasers for each song, the big broadcast of the single "Radio", to cryptic early social media messages and the delay of the very reveal of the title (or lack thereof) and cover art, Rammstein did a lot to take advantage of their ability to give their album a more committed old-school promotion when few else were doing so. Whereas the once brave, sudden nonchalant album drop has now grown dejected and taken on a possibility to be interpreted as nervousness to hype what might not live up to such hype (it can't disappoint and not live up to the hype if you don't give it any hype), a big roll-out like this has once again become a real sign of confidence in one's work, and based on their seventh album’s roll-out, Rammstein knew they had put together a hell of a comeback album. And that became incredibly clear as soon as the band released their most monumental combined visual and auditory statement to date with the music video for the first single and opening track "Deutschland".

The song itself is a sobering, grand, sorrowfully heart-wrenching cry for the band's homeland and its long, tumultuous struggle to overcome its infamously dark history. It's the kind of tough, honest, and well-timed critical look that I must give Rammstein respect for making, and the huge production and ambitious concept of the music video directed by Specter Berlin do justice to both the song and its uneasy (to say the least) subject matter. It's the kind of biting commentary that the video for Childish Gambino's "This Is America" was so revered for last year, though I honestly think that the Childish Gambino song itself has been largely overrated outside the context of the video and that "Deutschland" is an even more fearlessly convicting song and its video and even more artistically accomplished national critique (as it should have with its evidently bigger budget). But to get into the song itself since it’s on topic, “Deutschland” is a conflicted cry for the band’s homeland and the aftermath of its darkest days it is still struggling to overcome. The lyrics highlight Germany’s pride in its achievements and its unyielding ambition, but how that pride and ambition has been twisted into a kind of malignant narcissism to produce some of history’s most despicable atrocities (with the band not at all coy about the history they bring up, with the reference to Übermensch and the former national anthem line “Deutschland Deutschland über allen”). The instrumental of the song is dynamic and rides in tune with the lyrics’ heaviness perfectly all the way through, and the resounding bellow of the chant, “Deutschland”, provides the burst of sonic and poetic intensity that makes the song such a standout track. And the sorrow and sincere wish to love this complicated and slowly healing Germany is conveyed magnificently in Till Lindemann’s subtly heart-wrenching vocal performance. If it’s not already obvious from the preceding verbiage in this paragraph, “Deutschland” is undoubtedly going to be near or at the top of my song list at the end of this year.

Moving on from my favorite song of 2019 so far, the second single and second track on the album, “Radio”, which had a similarly big release, is possibly the catchiest song on the album with its groovy guitar riff, its keyboard sprinkling on top, and its fittingly infectious chorus. The song is another example of what I think is one of Rammstein’s most overlooked traits, and that is Till Lindemann’s lyricism. The song deals with an escape from life and a finding of pleasure through radio, as is pretty apparent by the title. The lyrics carry a good deal of sexual overtones, and though the line translates to putting one’s ear up to hear the radio, I’m pretty sure Lindemann chose the wording of “Mein Ohr ganz nah am” to resemble “my orgasm”. To possibly look way too deep into this and link it to German history, the band members grew up in the part of Berlin in East Germany, which was basically an impoverished hell hole under Soviet rule, and the band have expressed before their frustration with the forced insulation of the old regime. The radio referred to in the song is specified to be one the picks up international broadcasts, the wonders of which I imagine Rammstein and other Berliners in East Germany were depply inspired by and longed desperately to get any taste they could of (which the voracious appetite the women had for the radios in the music video and the revolt it led to supports).

Third in the track listing is the song “Zeig Dich”(meaning “Show Yourself), whose orthodoxical introductory chant opens the heavy quick-rhythm-driven guitar riff base of the song and its religious critique excellently. The quick calling cards the lyrics bring up to identify the subject of the song as the Christian church aren’t really much more than that, but the fact that the invocation of child abuse and the forbidding of contraception immediately brings to mind an organization meant to promote moral, Godly living is reflective of so many things wrong with the church. But the song seems to be a flustered insistence for the church to reveal its true and conflicting intentions: for its own sustenance through its authority over its followers and their passing down and around of the doctrine. The poetic technique is audibly impressive, but lost in translation, as the verses are loaded with mantras all tagged with the prefix “ver-”, which doesn’t really have an English equivalent, but serves to make more extremein some way the verbs being modified, which could be interpreted quite a few ways in the context of the song’s religious critique.

The fourth track, “Ausländer”, was a bit off-putting to me at first for its dancy beat and pitch-shifted backing vocal sample, but its lighter attitude compared to the surrounding tracks was probably a good move by the band and its cheeky fun has helped it grow on me a bit. The song is a kind of comedic suggestion to travelers to learn to speak native languages because the opposite gender loves to hear a foreigner speak their tongue, with Lindemann dropping all these overly dramatic romantic pleas in Spanish, French, and Russian. It’s kind of tongue-in-cheek, but the concept of cultures mingling and the language through which it happens is certainly something that could be read into even deeper here, but I feel I might be getting in too deep to this album’s lyrics as it is. Fun song! It strikes me as this album’s “Haifisch”.

The sixth song is called “Sex”, and it is one of those universally understood words that needs no translation. Rammstein have never been shy about putting all the raunchiest and most intentionally provocative aspects of the universal pleasure into song (Till Lindemann’s 2015 solo album also was largely about his many sexual fantasies and aspirations). But on this song, Rammstein finally tackle the queasy feelings of rising sexual attraction and the intense urge to bask in its pleasure with another. The lyrics come off, not so much as creepy or filthy, but rather as profoundly horny (a phrase I never thought I’d type, but here we are), with Lindemann singing “Wir leben bei sex”, which means “we live during sex”, which could be interpreted as an ode to the pleasure of the act of reproduction. The boisterous vocal delivery of the titular refrain gives the already heavy, groovy, and provocative song a different primal energy, and it makes the desire spoken of in the lyrics evident and real. And speaking of powerfully primal vocal performances...

The song “Puppe” has justifiably gained a lot of attention for Till Lindemann’s scathingly rough and chillingly tortured vocal delivery in its second half, which was the first thing that caught my ear too when I gave this album its first spin. Delving into the lyrics the song reveals itself to be about a child who is kept comforted (or even medicated to a degree) by a doll while this child’s sister goes off to work, which is revealed to be only in the neighboring room and is likely to be prostitution. The song eventually reveals that the child finds the sister dead at the hands of an assailant during her work, driving the child to bite the head off the doll, which could have a variety of interpretations regarding this already unhinged character’s stability, killing the assailant, destroying the comforting object and thus shedding all childhood innocence completely at the sight of such trauma, or simply a deranged, destructive breakdown. Personally, I think the lyrics suggest that the child rips the doll’s head off in an act of traumatic realization of the world’s cruelty and a refusal to accept being sheltered from it, with whatever actions following being very up in the air. Either way, how the band builds up the the climax of the child biting the head of the doll off and explodes into vibrant heaviness provides the perfect backing for Lindemann to play this character phenomenally.

The soulful metallic ballad “Was ich Liebe” is probably the most flat-out depressing song on the album, and despite the simplicity of its lyrics, its conflict with its speaker wanting to love but also feeling that doing so is futile and that all pleasure is fleeting is well expressed, and an interestingly stark contrast to “Sex”, wherein the raw, physical lust brings about divine, life-affirming pleasure and whereas “Was ich Liebe” details perhaps the comedown from the high of sexual fulfillment to a life viewed through the most hopeless lens in which all pleasure eventually rots and everything loved dies. The song itself doesn’t actually reference sex at all, but it is perhaps its very absence and the vagueness concepts the speaker laments over that suggest that perhaps the speaker doesn’t even know how to find the lasting forms of love sought through sex. Then again, I could just be reading into Rammstein’s trend of often writing about sex. Sonically it provides a break from all the extreme energy leading up to it,which is nice in the track listing, but the woeful lamentation makes it come off as a bit overly dramatic. Given the whiny, defeatist subject matter though, perhaps that was intentional.

The very next song, “Diamant”, is an even more stripped back acoustic breather track supplemented with weeping vibratto strings for an intentionally melodramatic effect. It's a somber love song in which Lindemann compares his allure to a beautiful person to that of a diamond, struggling with an infatuation that he knows is soul-sucking and something he should avoid, concluding his comparison of this beautiful person to the beautiful jewel in dejection, saying it’s only a stone.

The song “Weit Weg” is probably the album's low point both lyrically and musically, being a less tangibly performed song of unfulfilled longing for a far away woman with some juxtaposition between feeling close, but oh so far away too, which Lindemann has written about before much more convincingly. And the somewhat slow pace and minimal energy of the whole band's performance kind of just makes it drag on. It's not the worst song, but by Rammstein's standards and this album's standards, it's only distinction from the other songs on the album is its lack of much melodic or lyrical distinction.

“Tattoo” thankfully brings back the energy of the band's signature industrial metal groove for the album's last minutes. It definitely hearkens back to Reise Reise musically, and it's a fine offering of their more groovy old-school style. The song is about the literal act of tattooing a lover's name and contemplating the pain and permanence of it all to express the significance of their love in the speaker's life, ending on the somewhat tongue-in-cheek contemplation that if they ever split up, then the speaker will have to find someone else with the same name. Lyrically, it's very direct, but also colorful and a fresh angle for this topic.

The album closes on perhaps the most haunting and unsettling note (rivaled only by "Puppe") with “Halloman”, a song about the luring of a young girl by the titular "Hallomann" (who is suggested to be part of the Catholic church when the girl is revealed to be dancing while wearing a rosary) into a life of sexual servitude. It's a disturbing and genuinely mournful song, and the band handles the seriousness of the subject matter well both lyrically and musically with the pleading sorrow in Till Lindemann's performance conveying the gravity of the all too common story of childhood stolen and butchered by depraved opportunists who prey upon the vulnerable. I'm glad Tue band saved this song for the end because I can't imagine its eerie realism anywhere else in the track listing. It's an incredibly emotive, but chilling finish to the album, and it does a fantastic job bowing out for the album.

And that's it; that's Rammstein's long-awaited seventh studio album. In many ways it is Rammstein simply getting back on track after their long creative break after Liebe ist für alle da, but it does also feel like a well-rounded set of songs that take a lot from the band's whole career, and the songs do mostly seem very well nurtured. And while this album probably didn't need ten years to make, I'm certainly glad it's here now and I hope it helps Rammstein get back into a more consistent creative cycle. If there’s one thing that dampens the album’s experience, it’s perhaps the decrease in energy and the reversion to some of the band’s more typical tendencies without supplementation during the second half. But the brightest moments on the album definitely outweigh the duller ones, and the dynamic excitement of the album's experience certainly stems from Rammstein smartly placing their confidence in the progress they had made with their sound rather than trying to make a disingenuous rehash of Sehnsucht or Mutter alone (though the elements they bring in from those albums do serve to bolster this one). And through it all, Rammstein stays true to the focus on tight, efficient composition that has made every album of theirs so engaging and digestible. I'm glad they're back.

Willkommen zurück/10

#rammstein #neue deutsche härte #industrial metal #heavy metal #deutschland #radio #new music #new album #album review #metal

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sweetpea-skarsgard-blog · 6 years ago

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Playing Dress Up // Sweet Pea Imagine

((@heathernsweets shouted: Could you do a halloween based Sweet Pea imagine?

I decided to make Y/N an Andrews since I think that Sweet Pea would make a really good Dally, in need of a Cherry Valance <3))

“Come on Sweets! We are going to be late, and it is all going to be your fault.” You called to your boyfriend, who had literally been spending the last half hour in the bathroom of the small trailer that you frequently spent your time. Naturally, he was working on his hair- something that he kept miraculously well groomed on a daily basis.. But tonight was Halloween, and that warranted a special style- not one that he was used to doing- just adding some styling product and slicking it back slightly. He was way out of his league here.

“I’m hurrying, don’t get your panties in a twist.. Or do, and I might untwist them for you.” he teased through the door, opening it slightly so that you could see his shirtless form, while he worked at his hair. Taking a glimpse at you, he grinned, seeing your red hair curled and lying upon your shoulders, a blue top and plaid red skirt adorning your figure. You had ruffled socks, as well as some cute little buckled flats- perfect for your costume. Cherry Valance, and Dally Winston.

It was a poetic play on that which everyone already believed, the fact that Sweet Pea was dating the young Northside Princess, who just happened to be Archie Andrews sister. Most guys like the Bulldogs just figured that he was greaser scum- often comparing you two to the likes of your fictional counterparts in the novel The Outsiders. And why not make them feel like they were right? Sure the two of you fit the parts well- but your story would not end so tragically. Sweet Pea insisted that the two of your had a love that would outlast any challenge.

To be honest, this ‘effortless’ look that Dally had - wasn't so effortless at all.. But soon enough Sweet Pea was done, stepping out of the bathroom with his collar popped up, looking like he had stepped right out of the novel, or it’s film adaptation. The smile on your face brightened, as you walked over, and pressed your hands flat against his chest. Reaching to the side, you picked up his carton of cigarettes, and put it between his lips, smirking. “You know.. You look pretty cute- for a greaser.” you teased, Sweet Pea grinning, and taking the cigarette from his lips before he pulled you in for a kiss. Your light pink lipstick transferred over to his lips a bit, making you giggle as you carefully wiped it off.

“Yeah well Come on, Soc.. We have a party to go to, don’t we?” he asked, gripping at your hips gently, before letting you down off of your tiptoes. Everyone was going to be gathering at Thistlehouse, where Cheryl and Toni had planned their entire night- probably to be filled with Serpents, Bulldogs, Northsiders, and Southsiders alike. The tensions between the two sides of town had seemed to die down a bit, what with the arrest of the Black Hood- but your costume would be iconic as ever.

“I think that we might win the contest this time.. Then again, knowing Toni, and Cheryl there might be some pretty steep competition.” you said, moving towards the door with Sweet Pea, who fished the keys to his motorcycle out from the bowl by the door.

“Yeah, well even if we don’t win, I still know you’re gonna be one person all my attention is going to be on- especially with that cute little ass in that plaid skirt.” Sweet Pea teased, reaching forward and groping gently at one of the firm cheeks, making you squeak playfully and slap his hand off when you walked out.

“Damn, already acting like your costume- you absolute animal.” you teased, grinning up at him, before shaking your head and walking to the motorcycle. Sweet Pea left the candy out on the porch for the kids who were trick or treating, hopefully no one would egg the trailer- though he wasn't too sure how that would go. The kids on the Southside could be rowdy at the best of times- but Sweet Pea knew all about that.. Seeing as he was one of them once.

“Yeah well I am telling you the truth. This little miss innocent get up.. I kinda like it, Andrews.” he charmed you with a wink, sitting down on the bike, and pulling you close to him. His lips found yours, hands resting in the small of your back as he kissed you deeply. He didn't even care that your lipstick was going to get fucked up, or transfer onto him. All he wanted was the feeling of your lips on his. Pulling away, Sweet Pea groaned slightly, his grip loosening. “Sweet as Cherry pie, little miss Valance.” the male teased, before letting you go, and then resuming his position. “Climb on, princess- before Toni and Cheryl have my head for being a little more than fashionably late.”

It took you a moment to oblige of course, shaking your head to get yourself out of your daze before you smiled and then put your arms around his waist. “Alright, alright.. Calm down, Winston.”

#sweet pea #sweet pea imagines #sweet pea fluff #sweet pea fluff imagine #sweet pea smut #sweet pea riverdale #riverdale #riverdale imagines #insomniac-writes imagines #sweetpea-skarsgard imagines

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fredheads · 6 years ago

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i’m only good at being bad, bad

read on ao3

a/n: believe it or not i'm not trying to "justify" gladys' actions or make her "likeable" or help people understand her i just like reading women ranting about how much they hate their husbands sometimes and i thought other people might! gladys loves being bad, bitches!

inspired by @fredsythe

Gladys Jones was a woman without morals, and she liked it that way.

Morals did little for her but slow her down. Once you got smart enough, you didn’t need anyone else’s judgement on right and wrong, and God knew she’d had enough of other people’s judgement for a lifetime. Gladys wrote her own rules and lived by her own code. Hers. No one else had a say: not this town, not the law, not her dipshit of a husband. Not anymore.

Fred Andrews had morals, that was true. He was one of the good ones - one of the very, very few good ones. She’d known him since they were kids and she still marvelled at his stubborn commitment to good. She was glad she’d made him Jellybean’s godfather. On the off chance that anything happened to wipe her out early, Jellybean would grow up nice and sweet and normal. That was a big If, though. Gladys had no intention of dipping out early.

Gladys owned this fucking town.

The gold rays of the early-evening sun hit her skin as she coasts along the outskirts of Riverdale in Reggie Mantle’s borrowed car. It was a nice piece of machinery - purred under her thighs like a happy kitten. The new car smell was still on it. She flips her shades down, shakes her hair out in the breeze from the open window. Her arm dangles out the driver’s side as she holds the wheel with one hand, warm from the sun.

She’d sworn once that she’d never come back. She’d sworn it again after she’d walked out on her drunk of a husband, packed the family car, and laughed all the way to Ohio. She’d hated the whole stinking town since she was in middle school, and yet, here she was. Chances are everyone here had a similar story: dreams of leaving that fell through. Riverdale was a place you were born dying to get away from.

Gladys had said fuck that. Gladys had made this shithole work for her. It was about time she’d got what it owed her.

While everyone else scurried around the streets of her hometown like rats in a maze, Gladys had been laying her traps. A thread here, a thread there, child’s play, really, but she was careful. No mistakes. One day soon, she’d blow the fuse.

The fact that she was taking the whole town down with her was a kind of poetic justice. After all the time she’d suffered at its hands she’d be the one to suck it dry. Honestly, the stupid place was begging for it. Riverdale had sat there like a ripe peach after the Clifford Blossom fiasco, caving in from the inside. Waiting for someone smart enough to come along and turn water into gold.

Waiting for her.

If all went according to plan, the leeching of Riverdale would set her and her daughter up for life. Jughead too, if he wanted it - she’d leave him something regardless and let him take it or leave it. She loved the kid to bits, no matter how much of a pain in the ass he’d turned out to be. But she had a feeling about him, and her feelings were rarely wrong. He was too deep in his father’s pretty stories. Too righteous, too moralistic to let her get away with her due. Gladys didn’t have time to grovel at a teenager’s feet. When he was older, maybe he’d understand. For now, it was her and J.B. It was better that way.

The house on Elm Street was a nice idea, but it would never last. She knew that now. Gladys had done her time playing Suburban Dreamhouse. FP hadn’t known a good thing when he had it, so now, here they were. He had it coming, as they say in showbiz. He only had himself to blame.

Her lowlife husband was never born to be a criminal. A drunk, maybe, a lazy pickpocket, but not a criminal. FP hated the place too, but didn’t have the foresight to think outside of the city limits, had lowly little small-town aspirations - a house on the nice side of town, a 9-5 job. Since they were kids, he’d pinned all his misery on the south end of town, the fact that he was born on the wrong side of the tracks. FP wanted to cross the tracks and settle down and that was it.

She’d thought it was cute, once. She’d thought a lot of things about her husband were cute. She’d been soft on him, and that was her downfall, she supposes. The moment he’d walked into the Whyte Wyrm in his letterman jacket, sticking out like a billboard, and she’d given the idiot a cursory once-over and thought to herself, almost incidentally: he’s cute.

And then he wasn’t cute. And then he was very, very far from cute, and then he was so repulsive she hated the sight of him. Sometimes, lately, a nagging affection came back like a disease, the most fleeting of fondness for his messy morning hair or his earnest attempt at wooing her again - but she shut those thoughts down as soon as they arrived. Gladys was made of sterner stuff now, and she had FP to thank for her thick skin. She was done with his drinking, lying, cheating ass, and she was done for good.

Even in these rare moments of tenderness, there was no guilt. None. FP would take the fall for all of it, and be too stupid to realize what was happening until she was long gone. That made her happy. FP had coasted through their life together for too long, thinking he could do whatever the hell he wanted and get away without punishment. It was high time for some karmic payback.

Gladys Jones could play God.

Fred Andrews had morals, but he was no sheep: he decided right from wrong and he upheld it. Gladys was just as staunchly wedded to being a bad guy: she was deep in her badness and she loved it. FP was weaker stuff - he waffled from one to the other and still expected to be praised. Still expected to come out on top.

But FP had never been a winner. Gladys was the winner. At least she had been up until she married him.

She runs through the plan again, all her moving pieces. Diligence, that was what she taught her daughter. Be diligent, but have fun with it. Be whatever the hell you wanted to be, but be smart about it.

FP was stupid. Had always been stupid, and after a while, he’d dragged her down into his stupidity with him. Gladys Cohen had been in charge of her own future. Gladys Jones was a stupid woman with the same deadbeat husband waiting at home for her that every other stupid woman had. Innocent women who had made one miscalculation and ended up married to shit. Her mother had been in that position once. Hell, so had his. There were a lot more good women than there were good men in the world.

He’d trapped her into a life she’d never wanted, and then he’d whined that it was her fault. After she’d done nothing but bend to his every whim the entire time they were married, always cleaning up his messes and wiping his hands clean.

FP had wanted a house, so she’d played housewife. Then they’d lost the house, because FP had lost his job, and she’d packed and stored and sold everything they owned that didn’t fit in a crappy little double-wide a stone’s throw from where they’d grown up on the shit side of town. And still, he whined. Still, everything was unfair to him, everything was someone else’s fault. Fred’s. His father’s. Her’s.

She’d thought maybe it would be the kick he needed. Landing on his ass in the trailer park he’d grown up in would force him to look long and hard in the mirror, maybe pull his act together enough to fix things with Fred. Or else they’d lean on one another, maybe rob a liquor store or two outside of town, fuck in the getaway car, like in the old days. But instead, he’d slumped into booze, spending days in a slack-jawed stupor in front of the TV. Forgetting about Jughead’s science fair. Forgetting to pick up Jellybean from a sleepover. Forgetting everything, in fact, except that night’s football scores.

Then causing scene after scene in public. Passing out on the front lawn. Starting fights and breaking dishes. Crying whiskey breath against her neck at night, asking over and over for forgiveness. Refusing to go to the A.A meetings. Scaring their children half to death. Whining when she asked for the simplest of courtesies like she was some nagging housewife that had to learn her place. Coming home later and later until he stopped bothering to come home at all.

And the whole time the sex was horrific. And she looked like the fool.

Well, Gladys Jones held grudges.

Then she’d learned from Archie in Toledo that FP and Fred were on speaking terms again. That her husband had a job again, was going to meetings, was working on himself. It had sounded too good to be true. Sure enough, she’d come home and found out he was fucking a cult-deranged Alice Cooper on their marriage sheets.

So. He had it coming.

A shotgun to the head would be too good for him. No. She had to watch him unwind. She’d designed this game, and she’d designed it to hurt. Hurt him the way he’d hurt her with his insolence, his brain-numbing stupidity. Time and time again she’d almost caved, convinced herself that she could forgive him, but this was the final nail in the coffin. This one was punishable by death.

If it was Fred, it would have been different. She, FP, and Fred had always had an arrangement that worked. But Alice, in addition to being a slap in the face, was Gladys’ own sloppy seconds. God, it made her fingers itch. And yet she had no doubt that they both disparaged her, had decided that she was to blame. Probably talked shit about her, curled up in her mother’s bedsheets, on a trashy trailer-park mattress. Both of them not knowing how good they’d almost had it.

She parks the car across two spots and gets out, the engine still humming. Her high-heeled boots snap like gunshots on the concrete steps as she lets herself into the diner.

“Slice of cherry pie, Pop.” He leaves a strawberry milkshake on the counter as he moves to get her pie, bound for a table near the window, and she eyes it as she slaps a few bills on the counter. It’s the same rush she got in high school after pinching money out of the tip jar at the Wyrm - it wasn’t her money to worry about. She could order whatever the hell she wanted.

Her eye lands on an occupied booth across the diner as she nibbles on the cherry she’d pinched off the milkshake. With a decisive toss of her head, she saunters up to the dark-haired students.

She dangles the keys at Reggie Mantle. “Brought your car back.” He reaches for the keys and she pulls them away. “I still need a ride home.”

He just nods. A little scared of her, but mostly respectful - and that was how she wanted it. She wasn’t interested in terrorizing kids, just teaching them who was boss. Teaching them what was possible. Pop drops off her pie and she stabs it with the fork.

Self-respect, that was what FP was lacking. Alice Cooper had even less, by the sound of it. She’d have put him through this anyway, but it just gave her that little extra push to make him suffer. Once it all went south, FP’s stupid ass would have a decision to make. He could go cry to Alice and land on his ass. Or he could go seek comfort from anyone else and end up the same way. No favours for FP Jones. Not ever again. Oh, it was going to be fun. She was having fun already.

Gladys spears a mouthful of her pie and grins. It was good. Best pie in town.

Or maybe everything tasted good when your husband was about to get what was coming to him.

#gladys jones #fp jones #my writin #cw for f/lice..... i mention them s*eeping t*gether

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