#happens at least twice outside of the iconic scene in bed

[isthatmickey]

big fan of mickey’s hitch in breath whenever ian puts his hands on his neck

[blindingdutchy]

share | t.holland

{pornstar!tom x pornstar!reader}

summary: you don't like to share, but Tom's going to show you what happens to stingy girls on the playground.

word count: 10,663

warnings: i consider this a part two to switch. smut, little bit of angst, fluffy ending. language. explicit warnings under divide.

18+!!! minors stay away!

warnings: mean dom!tom, slight dom!fem oc, voyeurism, mff threesome, degradation, oral (m+f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), orgasm denial, touch denial, slight bondage (hands tied only), jealous reader + arrogant tom, some daddy + sir kink

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There was a familiar ache in your core as you made your way into work that day. It was a sensation that shouldn't have embarrassed you anymore considering it was in your line of work to take a beating of the sexual sort, but your blood bubbled with fluttery shame anyways because you knew it was definitely not from any job you'd done. The handprints that lingered on your skin were Tom's, as was the throbbing between your legs.

Your coworkers had grown accustomed to the funny way you'd been walking; after all, it had been months of you turning up to the studio just like this. Aching all over, exhausted, and all flustered smiles as every little jolt of pain in your body reminded you of him. Tom really knew how to keep a woman coming back for more, to say the least.

Despite the tender way you were forced to move around, you were excited to get into work that day. You'd been working on a new project behind the scenes for almost a month already, and today you were finally meeting with your favorite director and photographer to start the ball rolling. This was what you'd been fantasizing about doing ever since you'd been brought into the agency--straying away from your dominatrix persona and onto a more personal, enjoyable path.

Priscilla was already waiting for you in the conference room, bursting with energy as she always was and chatting the ears off of Archie. The two of them were sliding a few of your scribbled mock-ups around, along with more than a few stills of your naked body, and nestled so deeply into a conversation that they didn't notice the click of the door as it shut behind you. Even clearing your throat couldn't break their concentration.

"Starting without me?" you questioned, loudly, and finally caught the glimmering eyes of Priscilla.

Priscilla was practically buzzing with excitement as she grinned at you, clapping her hands once before waving you over, "(Y/N), perfect timing! So, Archie and I were thinking about your ideas for doing a cam-girl style video--"

She chattered on and on, only pausing every so often to take a heaving breathe before continuing. The more she said, the more you realized just how much work the two of them had done without you--Priscilla was already pitching set designs and potential scenarios for each video, and Archie was doing his best to help you visualize the filmography he had in mind. It was pretty hard to keep up, but you had to admit seeing their passion for the project only spurred your own to burn a little brighter.

The project was something you'd been dreaming of for awhile. A solo series of videos in the iconic style of a cam-girl; just you, your camera, and whatever you felt like putting out there for the world to see. For so long you'd been afraid to even pitch the idea out of fear of being denied funding, and rightfully so.

You'd had to fight tooth and nail to gain the backing of the agency. It had been a month of pitching idea after idea, crunching numbers and screening all the statistics of solo work so that you could propose a target profit for the company. In the end, you'd gotten the green light--but there was a lot riding on this first video.

If you failed to meet the target you'd set for yourself, the agency would pull the plug on the project and you'd be right back to the leather outfits and whining men. The thought of it urged you to outperform all the standards you'd set for yourself. You were peddle to the metal, full throttle ahead, and Priscilla and Archie's sounding board of ideas were exactly the encouragement you needed.

Archie fiddled with some settings on his camera, instructing you on a few head shots until he was satisfied. "That's it!" he cheered, "You like it? Obviously we'll work on better lighting for the videos, and there'll be editing--but I think this suits you."

Peering over his shoulder, your heart soared at the work of your favorite camera man. "Oh, Archie! That's perfect... If you'd just shown me that I'd definitely think it was the real deal." you gasped, and he grinned at you cheerfully. "How about a lunch break before we get back to work?"

The two of them muttered some hushed agreements, nodding absentmindedly as Priscilla looked over the photos and they returned to the scatter of papers and film on the table. "Yeah, yeah, you go ahead, honey." Priscilla cooed, waving a hand over her shoulder carelessly before tilting her head and squinting her eyes at one of your drawings. "Oh, what do you think about--no, that won't do... but maybe?"

With a hushed chuckle, you shook your head at the two of them and backed out of the room quietly. It almost seemed as if they were more excited than you were, but your stomach was rumbling and you needed something to eat before you started chewing on paper like a goat. Only, along the way toward the exit you paused outside one of the studios at the sound of Tom's voice.

Peeking inside, you smiled at the sight of his mop of curls bobbing--the smile faded to a grimace as you realized he was in no position to talk at the moment. You trailed a little further into the room and shot a tentative smile to one of the crew members who nodded to you, no longer surprised by your presence. Many times before you'd sat in on Tom's filming days, as he had done yours, but never before had you seen him at work with his most frequent costar.

Her name was Melaina, a startlingly attractive woman with what you were fairly certain was the world's most perfect face, and she was the star of most of Tom's work. You had nothing against her, having run into her quite a few times at work and never being anything short of pleased with her sweet and charismatic aura, but man was it hard not to feel inferior as you watched the two of them in action. It was as if they knew what the other would do before they even moved, connected on some spiritual level that boosted their chemistry to an astronomical level.

Tom's body was glistening with sweat and oil, his eyes dark and hooded with lust as he towered over her. The muscles in his back, chest, and arms all rippled with every move he made and caught the light just right, and you found yourself shifting on your feet subconsciously as you watched. Your hands twitched with the desire to push that one stubborn curl out of his face as it slid across his forehead, heavy and sodden with sweat.

Melaina gave a breathy moan that had you swallowing down a lump in your throat, her hands raking down Tom's chest only for him to swat them away and pin them to the bed above her head, "No touching!" he snapped, voice booming through the cavernous room, and you nearly groaned in sync with his counterpart. Too many times he'd growled those words to you, just like that, and the heat between your legs throbbed at the memory.

"Please, daddy," Melaina wailed, "I wanna cum!"

For a moment you rolled the name around your tongue, pursing your lips as you pondered what it would feel like to call Tom such a thing. It didn't feel right though; a sour taste compared to the deliciously sweet way sir rolled from your lips. His low, devilish chuckle brought you back to the present as you focused on the scene before you.

With a long, drawn out roll of his hips, Tom leaned down to Melaina's ear and spoke, "Bad girls don't get to come, darling."

Oh, fuck.

Hearing that name, that one little word, spill forth from his lips in reference to someone other than yourself ignited a certain flame within you that you hadn't felt in quite some time. It was green; everything tinged green in your vision like the sickening tone of the clouds before a treacherous storm. Jealousy wasn't something you wore often, but hearing that was enough to sit the crown of envy heavily upon your head.

Almost as if he could sense it, sense your turmoil, Tom's head tilted back until he looked you heavily in the eye. Your jaw tensed as he continued to push his hips harder through Melaina's cries and pleas, fingers clenching into fists as you tried to get yourself under control. It didn't mean anything.

You and Tom were nothing but friends with benefits, heavy on the benefits and light on the friendship, and this was his job. Hell, it was your job too! It didn't mean a damn thing.

His eyes never strayed from yours as that familiar pinch formed between his brows, his entire body growing rigid. He was brutal with the force of his hips, his hands groping roughly at Melaina's perfect ass and his lips parting in a silent 'o' that grew wider and wider until--there it was. His eyes locked on yours, Tom thrust twice more as a gritted laugh burst from his chest and he stilled completely. She mewled beneath him like a vixen, arching off the bed and crying, "Yes, daddy! Cum for me!"

He knew. His haughty smirk, ticked jaw, and glinting eyes told you well enough that he knew exactly what you were feeling, all the bitter and envious thoughts swirling through your mind. He knew, and he was thoroughly enjoying the way you were rooted in place under the weight of all your jealousy, your eyes locked with his and unable to break free.

"Cut!"

The sound of the clapper snapping and the director's loud shout startled you out of the strange limbo of envy and hunger you'd been trapped in. Tom muttered something to Melaina with a flirtatious grin that made your gut twist, and she laughed loudly whilst slapping a hand across his chest playfully. Suddenly, you weren't so hungry anymore, nor were you entirely interested in speaking to Tom.

You were out of focus for the rest of your day at work, earning disgruntled and concerned stares from your two colleagues who were working tirelessly to perfect all of your plans before the test shoot the following day. All of your thoughts were consumed with Tom, though, and it left you feeling nauseous. Never before had you cared much at all that he was with other women, knowing it was just a day's work for him, but seeing him with Melaina had truly rubbed you raw in the worst way.

The ache between your legs didn't make your heart flutter for the moment. Instead, each time you moved wrong and felt that persistent twinge, it made bile creep up your throat and your face burn with a mixture of bitter emotions. It wasn't that you were suddenly craving more from Tom--because you weren't, and as much as you enjoyed his company you weren't interested in a relationship.

Inferiority was a hell of a bitter pill. That was the root of the green eyed monster that was steadily taking control of you; Melaina made you feel inferior, and you hated it more than anything. Clearly he found her to be a better costar than you, considering he'd not once requested you even after starring in your own special. That was the first strike.

But, was she a better lay than you? Did she feel better, make him feel better than you? Did she talk dirtier, obey faster, and mold herself into whatever he wanted better than you? What if you weren't the only one he invited into his own bed at night?

By the time you left work the sun was setting, hours had passed, and you were exhausted from your racing mind. Usually Tom would have come to find you after he finished filming, but he hadn't and that bothered you. You knew it was probably all a game to him, a way for him to get you all riled up and tease you for it, but you weren't playing. You didn't want to play his games today, and when he finally texted you that night you left all of his messages on read with an acrid taste in your mouth.

"Ready for the big day?"

A peculiar sense of deja vu washed over you as you opened your dressing room door to reveal Tom perched on the other vanity seat, a tiny smile twitching at his lips and a twinkle in his eye. You really should have expected him to be there considering he'd been eagerly talking about watching you film for days, but after ignoring him you were more than surprised to see him waiting patiently for you to arrive. The door shut with a dull click, and Tom watched you closely.

Whatever he was playing at, you weren't going to bite--today was a big day for you, and nothing was going to distract you from your work. "What are you doing here?" you asked, huffing as your voice cracked and robbed you of your attempt to play it cool.

He just chuckled, a hoarse and airy sound, and licked his lips, "You think I'd miss the chance to see my girl touch herself for hours?"

His girl?

The words swirled around your brain the entire time you got ready, Marlena eyeing you curiously as you twiddled your thumbs quietly and payed no mind to either of the two people in your presence. What the hell did he mean by that? Why did your heart go on the fritz at those two silly words?

"Are you mad at me, lovie?" Eyes flickering over to Tom, you grew hot under his speculative gaze. Head tilted to one side, brown eyes narrowed slightly, and lips puckered in a tiny pout that made you swoon, he asked, "Have I done something to upset you?"

In the mirror you could see Marlena fighting back a smile, looking between the two of you with quivering lips as she held herself back from interrupting the moment. "No," you muttered, dropping your eyes back to your fiddling fingers, "I'm just nervous."

You didn't have to look to know that Tom was smirking, the sound of his soft laughter cluing you into the fact well enough. There was that deja vu again, your mind traveling back to that first time he'd sat in your dressing room and asked if he made you nervous. Teasingly, he asked, "Am I making you nervous, darling?"

Rolling your eyes, you huffed, "No."

Tom's eyes were all over you the moment you stepped onto the set and dropped your robe into an assistant's waiting arms. Clad in a skimpy lace negligee with nothing underneath, it was understandable that he'd be quite enraptured--never before had you worn something so dainty for your work, nor had you ever worn anything quite like the transparent scrap during any of your visits to his apartment. Even you yourself were quite enthralled by the look of it, having admired your reflection in the mirror for ages before finally joining the crew to start working.

As you soaked up the warm, tingling sensation of his ravenous eyes trailing over every inch of your body, you slowly relaxed into his presence. All the thoughts of Melaina drifted away, and you were biting back pleased smiles each and every time you acknowledged his gaze. It felt nice; it felt like it had every time he'd watched you film before, only better because now you were finally fully enjoying your project.

He hung back beside Priscilla in front of the big screen which displayed all the different camera angles whilst you ambled your way around the set. It wasn't complete, but it was enough for you all to get an idea of what the final design should be. A queen sized bed with dark, silk sheets in the center of a warmly lit stage, piled high with pillows of all sizes--already you were imagining towering bed posts with chiffon curtains framing the beautiful space.

There was one camera posted at the foot of the bed which was to be the main view point for the video. Climbing aboard you shifted until your bottom was posted over the scribbled X and leaned back onto your elbows, your knees propped up and spread wide. "How's this look?" you called out, craning your neck to see Priscilla, Archie, and Tom.

"Slide up a bit," Archie bellowed back, "a bit more--that's it! Oh, fuck, that looks amazing."

Having slid up the mattress half a foot, your head fell onto the bed of pillows that were finally within reach. From your new vantage point you could admire Tom, and the sight of him was enough to already have your thighs dampening. It seemed as if he were unsure as to where to look, his eyes flickering back and forth from the blown up, pixelated version of you to the real deal hastily.

The angle was awkward, and no matter how hard you stared he never made eye contact. It was then that you realized he couldn't see your face, at least not the real one, and a certain thrill sparked within you. Trailing your fingers over your stomach slowly, you reached for the frilled edge of the fabric and bit back a giggle as he tensed all over.

Licking your lips in time with Tom, you shouted, "Should we get started, then?"

Within seconds the clapper was dropped, and Priscilla boomed, "Test one, rolling!"

It was strange having to force yourself to look into the camera, rather than avoiding it so as not to ruin the flow of a scene. But, after a few moments of running your hands over your body and trying to get into the right mindset, your mind drifted away from the crowded room and into your own personal bubble. In there, that secret place you escaped to, it was just yourself and Tom.

Your body heated as you pictured him in place of the camera. In your vision he was bare and glistening, just for you; sitting on his heels with his knees spread apart and his hands ghosting over his length languidly. So many nights you'd laid before him like this, aching and begging for his hands to take the place of your own.

"Show me what those fingers can do, darling." he cooed, voice silky and sweeter than honey. It was a stark contrast to the dark, all-consuming pull of his brown eyes that lusted for you greedily.

Breathing a little harder, you tugged the stretchy lace further down your chest until your breasts were exposed to the chilled air. Tom's eyes glimmered, his tongue swiping over his lower lip, and you desperately wished it were his lips wrapping around one of your pebbled buds instead of your clammy fingers. Your eyes fluttered shut for a second as you imagined it; reminiscing on the sensation of his hot, silky tongue swirling around your nipples and tugging them delightfully into his mouth.

It was incredibly hard not to cry out for him as you descended further into the scenario you'd created for yourself. Nevertheless, you swallowed down all the whimpers of his name that bubbled to your lips eagerly, instead whining soft noises that even turned yourself on. "Love those pretty sounds, (Y/N)." he always hummed down your ear, scorching breathe fanning all across your neck.

The facade didn't fade as you opened your eyes again with heavy lids that begged to fall shut again. You tugged hard at one of your rosebuds in sync with Tom's harsh pull over his cock, and your back arched as you gave a loud cry. He moved his hand faster and clenched his eyes shut for a second as he groaned, "Enough teasing, lovie, show me that perfect pussy. Wanna see you cum all over your fingers f'me."

You couldn't have agreed more. Your heat was hot and dripping, your thighs slipping across the sheets a little more easily as you pooled your juices onto the mattress longingly. Tracing your fingers over the swell of your chest and down your stomach, you peeled your flimsy gown back until it was all bunched up beneath your breasts.

Tom watched with baited breathe, held perfectly in sync with your own burning chest, as you teased your fingers all around where you ached to be touched the most. Just as you finally dipped the tip of your middle finger into the slick, a shuffle and quiet laugh shattered the vision of Tom. You huffed in frustration the buzzing in your veins dulled and your hand fell limp over your bare middle.

"Cut!" Priscilla shouted, and even she sounded frustrated as you sat up and ripped your negligee back down, "That was really good, (Y/N)! Wanna have a look?"

You did, but you could barely hear the words coming from Priscilla's mouth as you took in the scene before you. There was Tom, hands cupped over his crotch like they always were when he watched you film, but this time he wasn't watching you. Instead, he was entirely focused on Melaina who stood beside him with one dainty hand stroking his arm, the other twirling the skirt of her sundress lazily.

Your blood boiled to life once more, but no longer was it out of desire for Tom. Pursing your lips, you called back to Priscilla, "No, let's just keep going." He was still engrossed in his hushed conversation with her, and you added pettily, "Might I remind some of you to be quiet on set!"

Melaina's stifled giggle turned the green hue in your eyes red, but you took a deep breathe and resisted the urge to roll your eyes. It didn't mean anything, it didn't mean anything, it didn't mean anything. The mantra echoed through your head as you did your best to keep your ridiculous envy at bay; Tom wasn't yours, nor were you his, and you had nothing to be jealous of.

You did, however, roll your eyes at the sight of Tom's devious smirk. It only widened at the action, and in spite of your wish to pretend he didn't affect you, your thigh clenched subconsciously. "Sorry, darling, we'll be quiet." he hummed, greedily soaking up the distasteful purse of your lips with his eyes.

It was harder to get back into the groove once the cameras started rolling again. Tom's image wavered in place of the camera, your mind clouded with all the conflicting emotions you were feeling, and no matter how hard you tried you just couldn't get back into that bubble. You pushed through, though, and picked up where you'd left off.

"Look at you," Tom simpered as your fingers dipped into your slick once again, your jaw slackening as you toyed one finger through your entrance, "absolutely dripping for me. Does it get you off to see me with another woman?"

What the hell was that? His words were like a record scratch in your mind, your fingers recoiling from your throbbing core in shock. Trying again, you changed your direction and drifted your fingers to your clit with a soft sigh. Closing your eyes to shut out his smirking face again, you rolled the soft pads over your bud and felt your lips part in a hushed moan.

How easy it would have been to keep them closed and push yourself over that edge with nothing but the sensation to edge you forward, but you knew that wouldn't make for a satisfying watch. So, begrudgingly, you opened your eyes again to the scene you'd created for yourself. Tom was sitting on the bed now, his legs spread wide before him to leave space for you between, and his length was laid against his thigh lazily. The tip was weeping and blazing red, a thick drop of pearly precum making your lips tingle with desire.

His hands wrapped around the footboard of the bed, gripping the solid wood so tightly his knuckles turned white and his arms rippled with unbridled strength. All that muscle, the sinewy, languid curl of hard muscle beneath soft flesh pulled taught in restraint; it was enough to have you drooling. Your fingers slipped easily from your swollen clit to your slit, and you dipped the tip of your middle finger inside with a choked cry.

Tom moaned back at you, his cock twitching as he flexed his stomach, eyes glued to the tight clench of your cunt around your fingers. "Fuck, lovie, do your fingers feel as good as mine?" he asked, "Does that pussy feel as good as hers?"

What the fuck?

Melaina's giggle echoed through the set, piercing the thickened air and startling you nearly as much as the wild turn your imagination had taken. Growling angrily, you slapped your hands onto the mattress beside you and pouted, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Sorry, I'm so sorry!" Melaina squeaked, sounding so genuinely apologetic it only irritated you further, "Stop it, Tom, you made me laugh."

Sitting up once more, propped up on your hands, you scowled fiercely at the sight of Tom's arm draped over her shoulders and his head dipped low to whisper in her ear. His eyes were trained on you, though, and you knew damn well that coy smirk that teased at his lips was meant for you alone. Melaina gripped the hand over her shoulder tightly as she stifled another laugh, eyes twinkling to match the beaming smile on her face.

Backing his lips away from Melaina's hair, Tom faced you dead on as his head cocked to the side playfully. Narrowing your eyes, you scoffed as he winked at you. That bastard! You flopped back onto the bed with a growl, wanting nothing more than to kick him off the set, but you refrained. You knew it would only cement what he'd already figured out within his head; it would prove that you were without a doubt, one hundred and ten percent jealous.

"How about we take five, everyone!"

You practically threw yourself off of the bed, snatching your robe from the timid assistant with a huff before stomping off the set entirely. What was he playing at? It was one thing for Tom to toy with you, but to purposefully throw you off when you were working? That was low.

Alone in the small room, you dropped your head onto your vanity with a loud groan of annoyance. So many new emotions were swirling around you, plaguing your mind and twisting your gut up into knots so tight you actually felt ill. You couldn't even begin to unravel the twisted mess to pick apart all the different things you were feeling.

There was a quiet knock on the door, and you didn't have to look to know who it was. "G'way!" you grumbled, hissing angrily when the door opened anyways, "I said--"

Tom crashed his lips to yours, choking your words and the muffled squeal of surprise that escaped you. Pushing his weight onto you and pinning you to the chair, he bit down on your lower lip until you whined pitifully, pulling away to look you heavily in the eye, "You ignored me last night."

"So? I wasn't feeling it." you retorted, the almost lie making your stomach flutter. "Is that why you're trying to ruin my test shoot? Another bullshit punishment?"

He gaped at you for a moment, his lips parting in surprise as he blinked down at you wordlessly. But, just as you were settling into the triumph of finally rendering him speechless, he sputtered a sinister chuckle and smirked. Clicking his tongue reproachfully, he tutted, "Are you jealous, darling? Is that what this little tantrum is about? Are you jealous of Melaina?"

The words of your imaginary Tom echoed in your ears, the thin flesh and cartilage heating up in embarrassment as you scoffed, "No, why the hell would you think that?"

Smirk widening, he leaned close to nuzzle his face into your ear as he hummed, "Mm, I think you're lying, lovie. I think you were jealous watching me fuck her yesterday, and today you're so bothered you can't even perform. Envy is a hell of a thing, wouldn't you say?"

His lips sucked on the tender skin of your earlobe, drawing the faintest of whimpers from your lips, and he released it with a dramatic suckle of a wet, sloppy kiss. He whispered tauntingly, "Did it make you jealous to see me cum for somebody else? To see me fuck Melaina instead of you?"

"N-no-- oh, fuck."

Tom's fingers dragged heavily through your folds, a gush of your juices immediately flooding into his open palm in response. His thumb rolled over your clit faintly, teasing the rapidly swelling bundle as he chuckled right into your ear, "Don't lie to me, darling."

That stupid name that he'd called her made you steel your resolve, stubbornly repeating, "'M not jealous, Tom. You can fuck whoever you want."

His fingers plunged into you to the knuckle, earning a loud gasp as your hands flew to his arms and clutched him tightly. "Yeah? 'S that so?" he asked, nipping the hot skin of your neck until you whined desperately, "Think I'd like a taste then, love."

This was certainly turning out far better than you'd expected. With a racing heart and a quivering breathe, you gasped, "Please, Tom." Tom's eyes narrowed at you, his expression hardening as he pinched your hip in warning. "Please, I want you to have a taste, sir."

He grinned, patting your cheek in a playful slap as he cooed, "There's my good girl. Spread your legs, darling."

Obediently, you eagerly spread your legs until your thighs were digging into the sides of your chair and shaking as you fought to keep them splayed so wide. The lace of your negligee was pulled taught and curled up over your hips at the movement, exposing all of you to Tom's greedy eyes. He licked his lips as he gazed down at his fingers still buried inside you as deep as they would go, flexing the two digits and closing his eyes as you cursed and clenched around them.

You crooned as he pulled them out and thrust them back in slowly, curling until the tips dragged over your spot lazily. "Please, sir, want your tongue, too." you pleaded, digging your thighs further into the seat as you rutted down onto his once again motionless fingers.

His eyes snapped open and he quirked his one ruffled brow playfully, "Yeah? You want my fingers and my tongue?" Tom dug the pad of his thumb into your clit deeply, pressing your button down and making your entire body spasm from the harsh stimulation, "I don't know if you deserve both, lovie. You're lucky you're even getting my fingers."

Whining, you threw your head back childishly and ground your hips into his fingers indignantly. He kept them steady, only slightly brushing your g-spot through your forced motion, and his free hand clamped down on your thigh in a bruising grip. "Please!" you begged, "Please, sir, I'll be so good!"

Your pleas molded into a shout as his lips closed suddenly around your clit, his thumb sliding aside to spread your folds open for him as he sucked at your sensitive nub harshly. Tom's fingers pulled out slowly before slamming back into you, his fist effectively punching your core and making you ache, but you moaned and begged for more. Each forceful blow pushed his fingers right into your spot, the tips curling to drag against your upper wall with every motion.

In mere moments you were seeing stars. Your stomach was tightening beyond measure, that coil winding so tight you feared you might break when it finally snapped, but you met each thrust of his hand with a jerk of your hips eagerly. His tongue flicked against your clit in rapid kitten licks, sparking your body to spasm violently each time. "I'm so close, sir!" you gasped, digging your nails into the armrest of your seat as your back arched in pleasure, "I'm gonna--"

With one last long, hard suck on your bundle, Tom pulled away from you completely. His fingers ripped away from your dripping slit and slid in between his glistening lips, that tongue swirling dramatically around the digits as he sat back on his heels much like he had in your imagination. Gaping, you huffed, "What the hell, Tom?"

He grinned devilishly, "Admit you were jealous, and I'll let you cum."

Sputtering, you spat out, "I told you I wasn't jealous."

"Mm, but I know you're lying, darling," he teased, eyes glinting playfully, "and I want to hear you admit it. You wanna cum all over my fingers and my tongue?"

You nodded hesitantly, swallowing the lump in your throat as you whispered, "Yes, sir."

He leaned in close, his nose brushing against yours and his lips ghosting over your own as he whispered, "Admit you were jealous."

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breathe. You felt hot all over with embarrassment, your skin burning and your blood boiling beneath, but fuck, you really wanted that sweet release that only he could give you. So, with trembling lips, you whispered, "I was jealous."

Eyes still closed, you jumped as his fingers brushed over your clit in a feather light touch. He pressed a slow, soft kiss to your lips that had you chasing him for more when he backed away and asked, "Are you still jealous?" One finger toyed with your slit, drawing a harsh line up and down your entrance as you resisted the urge to push further into his hand.

"Y-yes."

He chuckled, and your eyes snapped open as he backed away from you, his hand disappearing from your core. His eyes were dark in a ruthless stare as he stated, "You need to learn to share, love. Stingy girls don't get to cum." And, just like that, he retreated from the room leaving you staring after him in utter shock.

You weren't sure what you were expecting when you rocked up to Tom's apartment that night following his typical, "You up?" text. What you most certainly had not expected, though, was to find Melaina sprawled out on his sofa in nothing but a sheer negligee--nothing at all underneath. In a strange sense, you figured you should have seen it coming; what better way for Tom to torment you than to make you face the root of your jealousy?

"Mm, on second thought," you hummed, pursing your lips as you took in the woman's sensual form upon his couch, "I think I'll be going."

Turning to leave, you crashed nose first into Tom's hard chest with a muffled grunt of surprise. His hands crept around your waist in a lazy fashion, dragging the fabric of your shirt up until his warm palms found the icy chill of your bare skin. It sent a shiver down your spine, much to your own chagrin.

He pouted, jutting his lower lip out at you tauntingly as he leaned close to brush his nose along the high point of your cheek. "You've only just got here, darling," he mused, "I missed you last night. You left me all alone."

It was really pathetic how easily he broke through your walls. Despite your tireless efforts to re-stack each brick he knocked down, the feeling of his soft lips ghosting along the supple skin of your cheeks had those same cinderblocks crumbling to dust. A gentle kiss on the apple of your cheek, a fleeting peck at the slope of your forehead, one slow trail along the angle of your jaw--you were putty in his hands when his lips finally found your own.

Even as his tongue traced the outline of your lips, you desperately tried to fight his hold on you. Grumbling into his mouth, "I'm sure you could have found company elsewhere--"

Tom bit down on your lower lip, hard, and pulled until it snapped back with a loud pop that made you whimper. Yet, his eyes were tender in a way you'd never seen before as he gazed down at you longingly, whispering, "I wanted you, though."

Yeah, you were fucked.

Breathing a little heavier, you gave into your more animalistic desires in spite of the jealousy and irritation that still boiled deep within your veins. A childish, prideful part of you boasted over his words; he'd wanted you! Not Melaina, not anyone else, just you. It was utterly ridiculous.

Tom's brown eyes were warm, inviting, and curious as he waited for you to make the next move. You could see the questions bouncing around behind them; would you leave? Would you stay? But, there was a familiar glimmer of mischief buried behind the thick honey gaze that had you waiting for the other foot to fall.

Taking your lack of movement as an answer, a desire to stay, Tom pressed another kiss to your lips. Long, slow, and mind-boggling--it felt like your soul left your body with the way he curled his plush lips into yours. Already you were heating up, your body buzzing and growing hotter with desire in each second that passed.

You clawed your fingers into the hem of his shirt, scratching your nails along the flesh of his lower abdomen in a futile attempt to ground yourself. It was a frantic plea to him to hold you there, to keep you from floating away as his kiss took you to higher places. He gave a gentle hiss into your mouth at the sting, but pushed harder into your face as his hands inched higher up your back to toy with the band of your bra.

Fingers gently swept the collar of your shirt down, exposing your neck as fuller, softer lips ghosted along the line of the fabric. Wait--lips? Jumping, you reeled back from Tom's face with widened eyes to find Melaina blinking back at you, eyes blown wide with lust.

"What are you--"

Tom popped the clasp of your bra with ease, looking down at you with darkened irises. "Is this okay?" he asked, glancing at Melaina who was waiting beside your twisted, intertwined bodies for approval.

Her fingers swirled slow, tingling circles on your hip, lip caught between pearly, white teeth as she watched you with enraptured intensity. Two minutes ago, the word no would have spilled from your lips without a moment of hesitation--but now? Now, as your eyes lingered on the swollen, bitten lower lip that called for you to taste it; as you trailed them lower to admire the perfectly soft curve on every inch of her body, it wasn't so clear.

There was a supple rise of her chest with every breathe, hardened nipples poking through the transparent fabric of her dress. Rounded breasts upon a gentle, sloping waist, wide hips that certainly gave way to a perfect handful of ass and thigh, all leading the eye down the length of her sculpted legs. Melaina was like a work of art, and every inch of her that you admired sent tingles through your body.

Glancing back at Tom, you nearly moaned out loud. Her eyes burned the side of your face, but it was nothing compared to the heat of Tom's stare into your very soul. It sucked the breathe out of you and left you feeling dizzy, your vision darkening until all you could see were the artful angles of his face.

You spoke hoarsely, swallowing down the lump that formed in your throat, "Yes."

Tom's mouth parted against yours in an instant, his hot tongue slipping inside and making your eyes roll back as Melaina pressed her body against your side and latched onto your neck. Sucking, biting, rolling the soft muscle of her tongue all along each sharp nibble to soothe the tender flesh--it was an overload of sensation all at once. You didn't know where to put your hands as they both crept theirs all over your body.

It was impossible to decipher where one ended and the other began. Whose hand was that gripping your ass? Whose were peeling your bra straps down our arms under your sleeves? Who was slipping their thumbs along the waistband of your pants, tickling your hot, sensitive skin?

Moaning, you gasped, "Please!"

You weren't even sure what you were asking for, but Melaina quickly stepped aside to let Tom pull your shirt over your head as your bra fell to the floor at your feet. He admired your chest for a long moment, palms cupping the swell of your breasts as his thumbs rolled over the stiffened peaks of your nipples, earning a muffled groan from you. Licking his lips, he stepped back and waved the eagerly waiting woman forward.

As Melaina devoured your chest, you followed him with your gaze through heavy lidded eyes. He watched on with an indecipherable glint in his eyes, lips glistening with a mixture of your saliva and his own. Those long lashes fluttered as he dragged his tongue slowly over the plump of his lower lip, nostrils flaring in a sharp inhale as if he were tasting you all over again.

Her lips were wrapped tightly around your left nipple when he finally disappeared behind you, a shiver wracking your body when his fingers caressed the arch of your spine in a fluttering touch. Chest pressed warmly to your bare back, he dipped low to mix his own marks with the ones she had left behind. You dropped your head back onto his shoulder, lulling to the side to expose the entirety of your throat to him in submission.

When had he removed his shirt? The bare skin of his torso was scorching on your back, matching the heat of his tongue dipping in your collarbone in time with a twirl of hers around your other nipple. Fingers, hands, lips, tongues everywhere; your body was reaching its boiling point.

"Come to bed with us?" Tom's husky whisper directly into the shell of your ear had you whining, arching your back until your behind rolled harshly into his crotch. His length ground into you roughly, a quiet groan escaping his lips at the stimulation, "Fuck, darling, you like this?"

Weakly, barely able to focus through all the pleasurable touches to your body, you whispered, "Yes, yes, sir. Please."

You should have known it wouldn't last. You should have anticipated the shift in Tom's attitude, revealing his true intentions to you as he lead you by the wrist into his bedroom to find a dining chair at the side of his bed. But, you blinked up at him dumbfounded as he held up a silk tie before your face with a devilish grin.

Melaina stretched out on the bed with a hand between her legs, knees propped open wide as she touched herself lazily and watched you closely. Glancing at the tie, then the chair, and then Tom's arrogant smirk, you mumbled, "What is that?"

He just chuckled throatily, grinning as he hummed, "Sit in the chair, darling." You blinked again, frozen in place, "Sit, now, or I promise you'll not like the outcome."

Instinctively, your knees crumbled until you fell into the chair with a frown. He snatched your wrists roughly, twisting them behind the back of the chair until the backs of your hands touched and you whined in protest, "That hurts, Tom."

He pulled further, a sharp ache burning through the muscles of your arms as they dug harshly into the back of the chair. "Watch it, (Y/N)." he growled.

"Sorry, sir." you muttered pitifully, eyes downcast to avoid the amused smile on Melaina's face, "What's going on?"

Tom didn't answer you for a long while, taking his time to tie your wrists with the tie until he was certain you couldn't break free. Testing the restraints, you pouted as the fabric didn't yield in any way to your tugs. He hummed under his breathe in appreciation, though, stroking a finger up the length of your arm as he rounded to face you again.

Melaina sat up and leaned into the arm he reached out toward her, your gut twisting bitterly at the sight of her purring under his touch like a cat. "I told you, darling, that stingy girls don't get to cum." he restated his words from earlier, and your body burned with embarrassment, "So, I'm going to teach you to share. You're gonna sit there and watch me, and you're going to deal with it like a big girl. Understood?"

"But I--"

"Do you understand?" Tom hissed, eyes narrowing in a fierce glare that dared you to challenge him further. You couldn't miss the way his fingers twitched, the familiar sting of his palm on your behind ghosting over the skin in anticipation of impact. He remained rooted in place, though, leaning into Melaina's body that was steadily wrapping further around him.

Her lips were on his chest, leaving a flurry of angry purple marks that made you want to scream like a child. "I understand, sir." you grumbled, slumping into the seat.

He smiled, "Good."

It was as if you disappeared from the room entirely in that instant. He turned to Melaina, completely absorbed in her presence as his hands slid around her waist to grab fistfuls of her ass. Groaning, he squeezed the flesh tighter until she whimpered. Your own body ignited in shame and jealousy, fingers clenching into fists that tugged uselessly against their bonds.

The sound of their lips smacking as they kissed, wet and sloppy sounds that echoed in your ears, made you want to whine. How had it come to this, when only moments ago they were kissing you like that? Was this the only reason you were here?

You watched on with an aching core, racing heart, and sweaty palms as the heat intensified between them. There was that chemistry you'd witnessed on set--their movements so in sync it seemed as if they were connected spiritually, a perfect flow of seamless give and take. It was almost painful to watch.

The jealousy that tore you to shreds was not from a desire to be the only woman in Tom's life, though a selfish part of you did secretly relish in the thought. It was an aching, grotesque and petty desire to know that you were the best. You were jealous of the way he found pleasure in someone else, when all you wanted was to know that you were unmatched. You were jealous to feel his touch on your body, and some part of you was growing desirous of hers as well.

It was a purely physical sort of envy; no feelings attached. Or, at least that's what you told yourself. In some sense there had to be a sort of emotional drive behind it, but it was easier to tell yourself it was stupid pride instead of murky, confusing feelings.

Your eyes clenched shut as you bit back a huff of frustration. Melaina's moans grew louder, until she shrieked, "Please, daddy, wanna feel you!"

There was a smack and a rustle, and when you opened your eyes Tom had shoved Melaina flat onto her stomach. The skin of her still rippling ass was reddened in a blazing hand print, his hand rubbing over the mark soothingly. "You wanna feel daddy's cock, princess?" he growled, "Think (Y/N) deserves to watch?"

"Yes, daddy," Melaina murmured, "want her to watch. Want her to see how good I make you feel."

The green eyed monster in your head was stomping circles through your brain, screeching over the cruelty of the situation. Yet, you kept your lips pursed shut as you glared back at Tom with just as much ferocity. He wasn't going to see you break; you'd come out of this on top, you were sure of it. You weren't going to let him see that she'd hit the root of your jealousy right on it's ugly, rearing head with her words.

You scoffed, and he glared at you with a sort of intensity that made your legs quiver, but you faced his scowl head on with a ferocity of your own to match. You wouldn't let him see that she'd hit the root of your jealousy right on its ugly, rearing head with those words; if he wanted to play, then you were going to play just as hard.

Or, maybe you were just emboldened by the fact that he hadn't called her darling again. Either way, you stared him in the eye until he looked away from you with a clenched jaw and twitching hand. Your first, and only, victory of the night.

It was torture. He moaned as he pushed into her, eyes clenching shut and hands squeezing at her flesh desperately when he bottomed out with his hips buried into her bottom. Yet, you couldn't decide which method of suffering was worse; to keep your eyes opened or closed.

Open, you had to watch his face contort with pleasure and the way he interacted with her eager, willing body. Closed, you had to listen to the sounds they made and feel the way your body reacted in accordance. You were dripping onto the seat, angry tears pooling in your eyes, and your arms were going numb from their restrained position.

"Eyes open, darling." Tom ordered, and you bit back the curse that bubbled to your lips. He watched you with hooded eyes until you met his gaze, immediately blocking you out again to focus on the messy, fucked out woman on his bed. She was wailing, and you were trying your best not to join in the chorus.

He was going an an unrelenting pace, each brutish thrust of his hips eliciting a strangled cry from Melaina. She was clawing at the sheets, incrementally crawling away from him until he pulled her back with a forceful tug of her hips. "Daddy, 'm gonna cum!" she moaned, breathless.

You squirmed in your seat, bottom sliding slickly over the wooden surface from how much you'd pooled into it. "Come on, princess. Cum f'me." he urged, voice strained as he rocked his hips faster into her. The sound of skin against skin mixed with the damp sounds from his force into her slick echoed loudly through the room, but it was unparalleled to the unrestrained scream the tore from her throat.

Watching with wide eyes and strained, clenched thighs, you gasped as Melaina arched into the bed wildly. Her actions were so over the top you'd have assumed they were theatrics, if it weren't for the way you could see her physically quivering with full body shivers. Fuck, why couldn't that have been you?

Tom pulled out of her roughly, turning on you and clambering off of his bed to lean over you. His hands wrapped around the arms of the chair tightly, the muscle of his arms rippling as he gripped it so tight the wood creaked. "Learned your lesson yet, darling?" he demanded, nose to nose with you.

Nodding desperately, you gasped, "Yes, sir."

He disappeared from view, Melaina still crumpled into the bed and spent as she breathed heavily. When his fingers brushed your wrists, untying them slowly, you nearly wept with relief. Finally, he was going to touch you.

Pulling you up from the chair, Tom gripped your chin firmly as his thumb tugged at your bottom lip. "Want me to touch you, darling?" You nodded, begging him with your eyes and whining when he chuckled, "You have to earn it."

He sat back on the bed, scooting until his back was propped against the headboard with his legs spread wide. Patting the space between them, he beckoned you forward until you were perched between his knees on your own. You yelped as Melaina crept up behind you, hands sneaking up the skin of your back until they rested lightly on your shoulders, but you relaxed into her touch as she pressed a feather light kiss to your neck.

As she nipped at the skin, blossoming a new mark amidst all the ones she'd left before, Tom grinned deviously. "Let's make a deal, darling," he breathed, "if you can stop yourself from cumming all over her tongue, I'll let you come on my cock."

You squeaked as her fingers dipped down the front of your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as she drew nearer to where you were aching for any sort of touch. Deep down you knew how hard it would be not to finish at any sort of stimulation due to how worked up and ravenously needy you were, but if there was a chance to get Tom where you wanted him then you were going to take it. So, you nodded, "Please."

Melaina pushed you forward until you were bent over, propped up on your knees and elbows. Tom's length was straining against his thigh, and he flexed as your slightly frantic breathing blew across the sensitive skin. He reached out a hand to caress your cheek before winding it to the back of your head, pulling you closer until you wrapped your lips around the tip.

You groaned in sync with him as you felt her blow a cool breeze on your clit, your legs nearly buckling as she forced them apart with her hands. Stars were bursting behind your eyes the very moment she drew a line through your folds with her tongue, but Tom's shove against your head kept you grounded. Focusing, you pushed forward until your nose was buried in his pelvis and he moaned loudly.

Her taste was still all over him. Pulling back until you only held his tip in your mouth again, you swirled your tongue around the head and parted your lips to let your spit soak down his length entirely. You looked up and blinked at him coyly, flattening your tongue under his tip and sucking hard until he clenched his eyes shut and raked his nails into your scalp roughly.

Going down again, you gagged around him and tears sprung to your eyes when he held you there. He was choking you, but you weren't thinking about air--all you could think about was how hard it was not to reflexively clamp down each time Melaina tweaked your clit just right, sending spasms through your entire body.

You were fighting hard to keep from going overboard, your stomach twisted up in knots so tight you felt compressed. Explosive, even. He was moaning above you, dragging your head up and down his length slowly, and there were shockwaves of vibrations in your core as Melaina hummed along with him.

Finally, as you took all of him again and squeezed his thigh with your nails digging in, Tom hissed and pulled you off of him. "On your back, now." he commanded, and Melaina jumped back just in time for you to hastily slide into position. "Fuck, need you so bad, darling."

His hands were hot as they slid up your thighs, spreading your legs apart until he could slip between them and crawl over your body. "Needed you last night, lovie, but you decided to ignore me like a brat." he growled, and you flinched as he dropped to his elbows over you suddenly, "Don't even deserve to feel me, you know that?"

"Please," you whined, "I'm sorry I ignored you, I'll never do it again."

Tom dragged his tip roughly through your folds, scowling at you when you bucked your hips into him, "Do that again and you'll go back in the chair."

You froze, and he hummed in approval before continuing his teasing. Up and down, up and down, up and down, he dragged himself over your entrance and clit until you were shaking with need. Each slow rock of his length through your folds was adding fuel to the fire raging within you, your eyes threatening to roll back from the surface level stimulation alone.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally eased into you slowly. You moaned breathlessly, clenching around him and fisting the sheets in a plea for him to just fuck you already. "Fucking love your cunt, darling," he groaned, eyes falling shut in bliss, "perfect little pussy, all for me. This all mine, lovie?"

"Yes, sir." you groaned, arching off the bed as he pushed deeper against you, "All yours."

He pulled back, dragging slowly against your walls until he slipped out of you entirely and left you feeling empty. But then he forced his way back in roughly, jolting you backward on the bed under the force of his thrust. Your lips opened in a silent yell, hands flying up to claw at his back desperately.

Tom's face dropped into your shoulder, mouthing open kisses into the skin that burned like fire. He picked up his pace with a steady, deep roll of his hips against yours that made you shiver all over. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, trapping him against you as you gripped his shoulders heavily.

Your eyes were clenched shut in pleasure as you felt him continue to push roughly against that spot deep inside, sending sparks through out your entire body. The coil in your belly had already been strung so tightly you'd feared you'd burst at the first moment of contact, but you were doing your best to fight it off. You wanted this moment, this feeling of him filling you to the brim, to last forever.

But, Tom shuddered above you and moaned into your ear, "Shit, 'm not gonna last, darling."

He pushed deeper into you with his next thrust, grinding your hips into the mattress as he put his weight behind it. You yelped and your hands left his back to find his face, pulling his lips down to yours in a feverish kiss. It was sloppy, all tongue and clashing teeth, but it matched the desperate, animalistic rhythm of his hips perfectly.

That coil inside you was sparking now, fizzling with pent up energy just begging to burst. "Please, please, please, let me cum, Tom." you begged, and he groaned as you said his name, "Please, Tommy!"

With a sharp snap of his hips, Tom pushed off the bed on one elbow and reached his hand down to the apex of your thighs. His fingers met your clit harshly, swirling rapid circles around your swollen bundle as he stared down at you like a starved man. "Say my name again, darling."

"Tom!"

His fingers moved faster, harder, deeper in time with his thrusts that pushed you to heights you'd never felt from him. His eyes were clenched shut and his lips pulled back in a grimace, jaw clenching as his curls slid all over his forehead in a sweaty mess. He looked beautiful like that--all messy and fucked out, desperate to reach that high that you were pushing him toward.

Your legs were shaking wildly, and your stomach was burning as your muscles began to contract. It was the buildup to the explosive release, and you cried out, "Gonna cum, Tommy, yes! You feel so--oh, fuck!"

Wailing, you clamped your legs around his waist and squeezed your eyes shut so tightly it hurt. The coil snapped and you shrieked, his tip ramming into your g-spot over and over as he fucked you through your high. It felt like you couldn't even breathe, couldn't think, couldn't anything anymore. All you could do was feel him inside you, pushing through your pulsing walls as his fingers continued to rub your clit like a madman.

"Fucking--fuck!" he gritted, hips faltering, "Love it when you say my name, (Y/N). Sounds so perfect coming from your pretty lips."

You were desperate to get him there, feeling the way he was shuddering with each thrust as his body protested the exertion. "Tom, please," you begged, feeling the coil in your belly tightening up again, "cum for me. Wanna feel you fill me up, Tommy."

He slammed into you harder than he had all night, making your pelvis ache but you saw white. The world faded away as you burst into the crescendo again, your throat burning as you cried out loudly. Just when you were about to tap out and push him away because it was all too much, he rolled into you deeply and collapsed onto your chest.

So high in your own climax, you barely felt his cock pulsing against your walls as you milked him of every last drop. It was the warmth, though, that brought you back down to earth. The deep, warmth that filled you up had you sighing and sucking in air desperately, blinking up at the ceiling as Tom breathed heavily into your neck.

The two of you laid there like that for awhile, fighting to catch your breathe as your hearts raced against each other's chests. It wasn't until your vision finally cleared and you could breathe a little more freely, though, that a thought popped into your head, "Where did Melaina go?"

Tom laughed, his chest rumbling against yours as he nuzzled his face into your shoulder with a tender kiss to the sweaty skin. "Mm, don't know. She probably left."

"Oh," you muttered, "I didn't notice."

You hoped he didn't notice how you smiled as he hummed back, "Neither did I, darling."

Curled up in Tom's bed, you shivered as his fingers traced lazy shapes into the bare skin of your thigh that was draped over his own. On his night stand sat two abandoned cups of tea, growing colder by the minute, but neither one of you was in any hurry to reach for them. You were content to just lay there in his embrace, soaking up his warmth.

This was what you'd grown to love the most over the past few months of hooking up with Tom. The sex was great, the orgasms mind blowing, but the time spent just enjoying each other's company afterwards was your favorite part. It felt nice to just be close to him, to feel connected to him in a more domestic sense.

"You know there's nothing to be jealous of, yeah?" he asked, suddenly, and you craned your neck back to look at him curiously. His cheeks were reddened slightly as he peered down at you with tender, timid eyes.

Sheepishly, you shrugged, "It's ridiculous, I know."

He frowned slightly, but the crease between his brows melted as you blinked up at him with wide eyes. "Nothing you feel is ridiculous, (Y/N)," he stated, "and it's okay to be jealous. You think I never felt shitty seeing you with any of the other guys you filmed with?"

The flush on his face deepened at his confession, but you grinned. He felt it too? "Really?" you asked, trying your best to keep from giving him total puppy dog eyes.

"Really." he repeated you, snorting when you grinned wider, "And, you don't need to be jealous of anyone. You're the only one who ends up right here in my bed, like this. Only one I want to be here, darling."

You buried your face into his chest with a flustered giggle, and he chuckled as his arms wrapped around you a little tighter. In a desperate need to keep things from getting too serious, still raw over everything you'd felt the past couple of days, you teased, "Mm, I'm only here for the tea--Tom!"

He dug his fingers into your ribs, fighting through your squeals and slaps as you tried to escape him. Easily, though, he got the upper hand and rolled until you were pinned beneath him. With twinkling eyes, a mixture of emotions you couldn't read, he taunted, "Admit it, (Y/N), you're in love with me."

In love with Tom? Your mind went blank as you stared up at him, but he just grinned down at you. There was a little flutter in your belly, and his eyes sparkled a brighter at your shiver. He knew. He knew the truth.

"Nah, it's definitely the tea--"

"Why, I oughta!"

[cherrykadeu]

The unknown Heart Family

There’s not much to be said about Nari’s mother side of the family. Or rather, her mother prefers not to speak about them at all, it’s as if her childhood and teenage years had never existed. Yumi, simply left without ever saying a proper goodbye, soon after she discovered that she was pregnant with her first child, a pregnancy that had not been expected by anyone, news that instead of being received with happiness were received with concerns and hard to answer questions. All she had ever wanted was the support of her family during that time, she knew she had been careless and for that she had apologized, however she soon learned that all her family wished for her them was a rich husband who could provide not only for her and her child but to all of her family and maybe allow them to finally be free from the misery they had long been subjected to, eager for the prospect of finally being able to live a life full of the luxuries they thought they deserved without ever having to work hard for it. 

Of course, that was not the case and she feel in love with a Club who despite being surprised and a little bit scared about the prospect of starting a new family so soon and without any prior discussion, still made sure to support her and love her through it all, a man who actually made sure to tell her how he still wanted her and their child too. He did not make her beg to keep the child, just like her family had, fake concerns thrown her way about how they couldn’t afford to have another person in their family, how they didn’t have enough money or conditions. It was all true, Yumi knew that, but still all she felt was anger and betrayal, so the decision to leave her family behind and the promise of forgetting about all of them was too easy for her. She now only had her future family on her mind, the one she would care and protect like her family had failed to do with her.

Even after Nari defected from The Clubs, there was not a single reference she could go to and ask for help, if she was being honest she never even though about trying to reach out. They had never once made the effort to try and find her brother, the one that they at least knew existed, let alone wonder about the existence of another child. Perhaps they had all died from starvation and poor living conditions, or they had simply decided to erase her mother’s existence from all of their minds, deciding to only move forward.

Mother. Meeseong Yumi. Kumiho. 6 of Clubs (defected from The Hearts). Works as a seller for The Forge.

If anyone were to see the two of them right now, no one would guess that they are mother and daughter. The woman was always harsher with Nari that was for sure, always worried about her daughter who continuously presented more Heart traits instead of Clubs just like she had hoped, but she still loved her very much despite of it all and no one could question that.

They bickered, a lot, Tae Joon, being the only one able to calm them both down, Geon choosing just to step aside and let his father handle it in order not to have his head ripped off. Maybe, Tae Joon, liked his women a little bit crazy, everyone thought so, even his parents, especially when he had first decided to introduce Yumi to them, it was a long and hard process. His mother hated her and Yumi hated that woman back, probably even more if they were being honest. 

Mi Sook held back her words though, once her son told her that she was about to become a grandmother, she was actually happy about the news and she had hoped that maybe pregnancy would help tame Yumi and turn her into a more caring and nurturing spirit.

But, was she wrong. Yumi grew obsessed with little things, everything had to be exactly how she wanted it to be, her cravings were the worst and she actually felt like she was going insane, even Tae Joon did not know how to help her anymore, everything he said or did just seemed wrong, so as a last resort he wrote a letter to his mother asking her to come over. The words exchanged between the two woman that day are something all of them laugh about now, the question “What is she doing here?” followed by the iconic “I’m here to help you, you brat, now shut up” never fails to bring tears of joy to their eyes, especially since after that they became a real family who looked after each other.

That sums up perfectly, Meeseong Yumi’s personality, powerful and unapologetic, she went through so much, being neglected by her own family, before slowly starting her own in a completely unexpected way, just to have it all taken away from her again. Someone had murdered her husband, the only man she had ever loved, her parents in law despite still speaking to her seemed cold and distant as if they suspected she was hiding something from them, her daughter had turned her back on her when she needed her the most, the only one who had stayed was her sweet son, Geon, and she never liked to bother him, she wanted him to have his own life, the one she knew he deserved and would not fail to achieve.

The moment Nari decided to run away, was the moment when her relationship with her mother was ruined. Her mother had decided to forgot about her, or at least that’s what she thinks, or maybe there’s a little more to the story than Nari knows.

Father. Meeseong Tae Joon. Kumiho. Deceased.

The person she misses the most. She still cries about his death. It has been years and Nari still can’t get over it, it was too unexpected and too soon, it made her hate most Clubs and how that faction worked.

It was a rainy day, she had stayed at her grandparents home, her brother was too busy staying in his significant other’s house at the time and Nari was now grown enough to realize that her parents also deserved some time alone. Her father had thanked her and told her that he would pick her up first thing in the morning before going off to work. So, she waited. Her legs were cold, her uniform doing nothing to help her against the elements as she stood there wondering why it was taking him so long. 

It was her grandfather who came to get her, pulling her back inside, she heard some crying from the other room and before anyone could tell her anything, a small plea left her lips. “please don’t tell me” and with that she ran home, her legs aching due to the long distance but she never stop, the screams she could her from outside of her home should’ve been enough to make her think twice before opening the door, but it didn’t, her eyes quickly took in the scene her mother was desperately holding the severely damaged body of her father, her brother behind her, holding her shoulders. Nari could feel herself choke, a loud gasp leaving her lips, but before she could take a step forward, her brother stood up, leaving his spot from behind their mother in order to finally cover Nari’s eyes with his hand, pushing her back against the front door. But it was too late she had already seen it.

She screamed and punched Geon, she wanted to see her father and he still wouldn’t budge, even with tears staining his cheeks, even if he was falling apart slowly too, he wouldn’t let her get close to that scene. Their father had been their mentor, he knew exactly how to treat both of them, he knew exactly what they needed to be told in order to succeed. Geon had known this could happen, this wasn’t the first time a fight went wrong and someone ended up dead, even though something about all of this felt wrong he couldn’t allow himself to think too much about it, he knew his father wanted him to take care of the rest of the family and that’s exactly what he was trying to do. Nari, broke down, completely, everything about this was unfair, how could anyone think that killing another person in order to rise in the ranks was a fair system? This was the man who had held her, who brushed away her tears, never failed to make her laugh, who scolded her when she was misbehaving but someone who still loved her very much and now he was gone. 

And Nari needed to be gone too, she couldn’t let this happen to her, she couldn’t stay around and watch it happen to someone else just because they could not get themselves to see that all Nari had ever been afraid of, had now just turned into a reality.

Grandparents. Father’s side of the family. Meeseong Mi Sook & Meeseong Do Hun. Kumihos. 3 of Clubs and 5 of Clubs, respectively. Unemployed. Living off family money.

Nari remembers her grandparents with great care and a heavy heart. She spent most of her time with them, both her and her brother had bedrooms at their house which lead them to often seek comfort there. She remembers skipping training, whenever her muscles were way too sore to endure another day, she remembers skipping classes just because it was too boring and every time she did that, she always ended at the same place. Her grandparent’s home.

They knew, of course, they scolded her for a minute or two before giving up and allowing her to do whatever she pleased with the promise that she would work harder next time. They just could not help it, Nari just had the softest eyes, her calm and sweet demeanor was not something that was very common amongst clubs which made them only love her more, her energy filling up the house. To be fair, they sometimes wished Nari and Geon would come over more often, even if that meant failing to fulfill some responsibilities they might have.

She sometimes wishes she could have it all back. To once more, be tucked away in her small bed, eyes closed pretending to be asleep as he heard her grandparents talk with her father from outside of the bedroom. The tired tone of her father’s voice as he scolded his own parents because they were spoiling Nari too much and how he and Yumi wanted her home so they could talk about the responsibilities she had, how she wasn’t a child anymore and couldn’t keep sneaking into her grandparent’s home to avoid them and how they couldn’t keep letting her get away with it.

It all ended the same way every time, Mi Sook twisted her son’s words, telling him how they wanted to keep Nari away from them and how he was too busy with his own work to even bother coming over, Do Hun being more understanding, stopped his wife from throwing a fit before making empty promises of how this would never happen again and finally her father gave up, muttering a small familiar question “is she sleeping?” Nari would then hear the door slide open, soft yellow lights filling the door, Tae Joon leaning down in order to kiss the top of Nari’s head before making sure the blankets were covering her properly, exiting the bedroom and saying goodbye to his parents, telling them he would be here to pick her up in the morning, just like he always did.

It breaks Nari’s heart to think that she left them behind too, they do exchange letters from time to time and she knows that if she ever went to visit them again they would welcome her with open arms, which only makes it worse. She can’t bear to look them in the eyes after her father’s death, ashamed that she abandoned them soon after. Sometimes the ink on the letters she receives are a little smudged, sometimes some words are hard to read and Nari knows it’s because of the sadness they feel, the tears that can’t stop from falling as they write to her.

Nari often stops herself from being the first to reach out, it will only cause sadness for both parts.

Brother. Meeseong Geon. Kumiho. Jack of Clubs. Works as a guard for The Armory. Resistance Member.

It would forever be a difficult relationship to understand. A brother and a sister who apparently had nothing in common, only the few who had been blessed enough to see the two of them sharing same space at the same time were able to experience the striking similarities between the pair, the same charming smiles, the same soft voices who were quick to held anyone captive, even if they were only reciting passages from a boring book, even if they were just talking about the days of the week or how the weather seemed to get colder each day, it was amusing, sometimes even scary. 

However, it was even more difficult for them to understand one another, there were some days when they just couldn’t do it. Days when they made no effort to understand the other reasons for their actions, so they simply settled for the small comfort that at least they had each other’s company. 

Four years ahead of her, the first child, the golden fox, the one that was good at everything and left their parents beaming with pride since the day he had learned to control his shift, started walking on his human form or even uttered his first words. Everything Nari had done, he had done first and better and while no one ever held it against her or acted in a certain way that would spark those feelings inside of her, she could still sense it.

Her legs were still too short, and she could never seem to keep up when he challenged her for a run, their dad always needed to pick her up every time she scraped her knees, trembling lips and with tears sliding down her cheeks as she looked at the blood, while her brother simply brushed it off and ask politely for their mother to tend to his wounds, tears never spilling over his cheeks, even if anyone could see them forming on his dark eyes, it was only a small threat since the small boy never allowed them to slide down, forever fighting and always winning, kissing their mother on the cheek afterwards and thanking her.

She grew frustrated, always being second best, with him always pushing her to do better while at the same time discouraging her by beating her over and over again, too little to understand what good intentions meant and far too sentimental to see past her own self-pity.

It was not until a certain afternoon, at their grandparents house, as she sat still on their grandmother's lap, legs swinging lightly while the older woman brushed and braided her long hair, their grandfather sitting beside them, glasses on the bridge of his nose as he read her a story about a smart fox - one that she had heard too many times, but always smiled and listened because her grandfather had told her the first time around that this particular fox remind him of her - that she heard a jar break, her brother staying a few feet away, broken pieces around his feet, with a guilty look on his face. Their grandfather was quick to get up, closing the book, he wasn't mad, just worried about if his grandson had cut himself by accident, but still her brother broke into tears, a small gasp leaving little Nari's lips as she stared at her brother as if he was some strange creature, the boy clutching to their grandfather's jacket, a thing only she was used to do. She had never seen her brother cry like this, not this desperately, if she was being honest she had probably never seen him cry at all. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, I just wanted you to read me a story too” his eyebrows were furrowed as if he didn’t fully understand his own actions and words, his lips trembling, cheek against their grandfather’s chest, the words a bit hard to understand between his sobs. All their grandparents did was smile softly, the boy was carried back to the couch where everyone else was sitting and positioned on their grandfather’s lap who was already rubbing his back in order to comfort the small boy and get him to stop crying. They could clean the mess afterwards, but now they both understood that their two little treasures were more alike than they had initially thought, and somehow Nari and Geon had finally understood that too.

This is why, now every time Geon smiles, all they see is Nari smiling back at them, every time he walks into a room heads are quick to acknowledge him, head held high, shoulders back and long strides just how he had seen his sister do countless times, she was forever in his head telling him to take his hair away from his face and to stop frowning because it would cause him wrinkles and he had such a good skin. And every time Nari got angry all they could see was Geon, protective, just how Nari had learned from when he had come to defend her countless times, every time someone got hurt and Nari just happened to know exactly what to do to help heal minor wounds was just because she had seen her brother taking care of her and her helping him back whenever he needed and every time she is focused on something she has the same look on her face as her brother. Each one of them has stolen something from the other, they wouldn’t be complete otherwise, but maybe this is how they endure being apart for so long, an unspoken feeling that just knows that the other is alright, because even if they are not there in person, the better parts of them had latched onto the other’s bones.

[koganphrancis]

Ernie & Bert Are Planning A Wedding

OR: My thoughts on Episode 11

Everything just hurts.  Let me start with the “previously on” segment.  Yeah, we finally get an Ian/Mickey intro, but it’s just like so many of the other intros-random characters outside yelling at viewers.  Since there’s been little to none intimacy for this couple this season we couldn’t have caught them in bed?  Or in mid-kiss?  Nope.  Ian can be drinking yet another beer tho.  Pretty sure those meds we saw when Sandy grabbed Mickey’s dick all those episodes ago now was Mickey’s gerd medication.  Ian’s clearly not being written as taking medication at all (yet again).  

But as usual, I digress.  The show starts with a somewhat cute reminder of how the Gallavich house is within running distance of the (now torn down in real life, RIP) Milkovich house.  Unfortunately it’s Terry who reminds us.  Ian’s watching Terry screaming up at the house while Mickey’s...off doing something without Ian.  Seriously, whatever the opposite of “joined at the hip” is, that’s what these epic soulmates are this season :( 

Anyway, Mickey walks downstairs and Ian unhelpfully informs him, “Your dad’s here.”  Mickey says yeah and goes out to see Terry.  Ian gives one more peek thru the curtain but must decide that Mickey’s in no danger, since next we see him, Ian’s sitting in the kitchen casually chatting with Lip about something that’ll never happen (Lip moving to Wisconsin).

Outside, Mickey and Terry draw guns on each other while Terry’s just now (?) trying to figure out where Mickey went “wrong” and turned out gay.  Um, I know Terry’s been busy with prison and running his illegal enterprises (whatever they might be), but he’s just now trying to catch up on what he learned literally years ago when he walked in on Ian and Mickey having sex?  

(Gif credit: jackorowan)

The scene at least gives us an iconic Mickey line, “I definitely love one,” but is it too little too late?  It’s enough to send Terry on his way for now, after one last threat.  Mickey calmly goes back inside, says “mornin’” to Ian and Lip, and starts to make himself a bowl of cereal.  I list all that out to stress how non-stressed he seems.  Ian says, “So, how’s your dad?”, and just like the, “Hi, Mr. Milkovich” and “Was Mickey adopted?” conversation Ian had with Terry in S9, so far everything is being written to show how this is just normal family life when it comes to Terry.  But by the next scene the show will want us to buy that something entirely different is going on and I just don’t understand why they can’t find a narrative and stick to it.  In the days since the episode aired, I’ve read so many head canon posts about how understandable it was for Mickey to flip out after seeing Terry, and how that brought all Mickey’s past trauma to the surface and of course it turned him into a groomzilla, but I just can’t agree that that’s what the show either set out to do or accomplished.  Mickey’s been working for Terry, he’s been around him-it’s one of the few things about Mickey’s life the show has shown us since he’s been out of prison.  Everyone in Terry’s world that they’ve shown is perfectly comfortable talking about the fact that yes, some people are in fact gay.  Terry’s peers in prison, Terry’s own relatives-why suddenly in Episode 11 is this “a thing”?  

Anyway, the scene continues after Mickey quips that he doesn’t think Terry will be his best man.  Liam joins the scene and there’s very cute, well executed banter where Ian, Lip, and Mickey tell him they can each forge Frank’s signature.  It’s a tantalizing glimpse of what the season could’ve been if these guys were allowed to all be in scenes together.  

Mainly thanks to Myles’ AV Club review, I know that for whatever reason, the show decided to do a one month time jump between the engagement episode and this one.  WTF?  It doesn’t even make sense-it means somewhere that woman holding Frank captive was feeding him and clothing and bathing him?  That Liam hasn’t been to school in a month because Frank hasn’t been around to sign him in?  As if that wouldn’t have had CPS showing up at the Gallagher house (that has to be red flagged in the system by now)?  Debbie being toyed with by that mother and daughter has been going on for weeks at this point?  The only thing the time jump did that I care about was rob us of seeing Mickey and Ian telling people they were engaged.  We deserved a little scene of Ian and Lip talking about it at least-give Lip the opportunity to ask Ian what changed his mind about marriage and give the audience the opportunity to hear some sort of explanation.  “I heard some guy I know Mickey didn’t care about putting him down and I just knew then and there I had to marry him,” doesn’t quite cut it.  

But so much for what should have been.  In the next scene, Mickey slaps down a pile of wedding magazines and drops the news on Ian (as he hands him a beer) that they’re going to have a “wedding wedding”.  Mickey needs a headcount for the reception venue-clearly money is no problem, so working for Terry all those intervening weeks must’ve been lucrative.  

In a rare instance of the show actually cluing us in on someone’s thought process, Mickey says flat out that he now wants a “real” wedding because his fuckhead dad threatened to murder him-again-cuz he’s gay.  So, see?  AGAIN.  What’s different this time?  It’s like the show NEEDS there to be a reason, a mitigating circumstance, for two men to want to get married.  They can’t just let Mickey and Ian have the natural progression of their relationship leading to a lifetime together.  It’s so offensive.  And again, for viewers that have been invested in this relationship for so long, it just hurts.  Mickey’s doing this as a big FU to his father rather than as a big ILY to Ian.  That’s OOC for sure-Mickey’s always put loving Ian first in his life.  

In planning the wedding, Noel does get some great moments.  Talking about the “little shits that light the candles”, and his choice of wedding song, and confronting the homophobic old bitch at the florist.  And the literal scenery chewing he does at the wedding chairs rental place was, I’m sure, quite fun for Noel as an actor.  BUT-the only moment we get where Ian seems on board/with Mickey in any of it is at the florist before the bitch sets Mickey off.  Otherwise Ian’s like a casual bystander in all this-and that’s just not in character either.  Why can’t they both be into making these decisions?  Why, even if Ian truly couldn’t give a shit about seeing Mickey happy about these little details-why can’t they at least be affectionate with each other?  I don’t expect Schitt’s Creek level adoring looks, but I do expect Gallavich level.  Ian used to look at Mickey with awe even when Mickey was being his Mickey-est.  Why aren’t they allowed to show that anymore?  

I will say, I did love the stargazer lily thing-altho it’s all the more frustrating to realize this week’s writer must’ve watched at least the fan compilation video of Gallavich to know that detail was a very sweet throw back-why couldn’t they also write some kisses and hand holding in too?  But anyway, “Beyond Blue” and Mickey looking touched when Ian said he liked the blue ones-we needed a lot more moments like that this season.  Why everything’s getting crammed into these final, rushed episodes is beyond me.  

Now I have to bitch again about what was wrong with the florist scene.  Yes, I’m sure there are plenty of people like that woman in the world.  But there are also plenty who don’t oppose same sex marriage.  Why is it always such a big deal on Shameless?  Either everything’s gay or nothing is.  They’ve given us an entire squad of fire fighters who are gay.  Debbie clearly can’t walk five feet in any direction since the show decided she was gay without her finding a woman DTF her.  Ian had-what was the ridiculous number?-7 million Instagram followers when he was Gay Jesus.  So ONE homophobic old lady in a flower shop means disaster?  Ian knows how to look shit up on his phone, he proved that looking for wedding statistics.  You mean to tell me he doesn’t know how to check Yelp reviews to somehow find a gay-friendly florist in a city the size of Chicago?  

Mickey did get a couple of funny lines in that scene (killed me when he called her Grandma), but, again the show is throwing too much in the blender.  Is the scene supposed to be that funny?  If Mickey is dealing with past trauma, this is just adding to it.  And Ian, who is supposed to know Mickey better than anyone (including the viewer) isn’t acting worried about him, he’s acting like he’s being dragged all these places against his will.  So where’s the comedy in that?

Next there’s a scene of Mickey walking down the sidewalk and glorious natural light, looking like he’s glowing.  It immediately gets ruined by Ian stopping in front of a store window full of bride mannequins and looking at them and then after Mickey, with the visual implication strongly suggesting that Mickey’s the “woman” in their relationship which is so outdated in 2020 that the show and the network should have to pay a fine.  

Then we get the chairs meltdown, which gives us the truest line, “Why does everything always have to SUCK?”  You’re singing our song, Mickey.  Then the show proves that point for the millionth time by having Mickey call the chairs guy the R word-twice. 

In the next scene, Mickey’s called in the always reliable important character of Mand..um, Sandy because Ian’s of no use to him.  WTF?  Mickey is still talking up grandiose wedding plans and Ian’s still trying to figure it all out.  He tries to ask, “This is still about Terry, right?  You don’t give a shit about weddings...” Mickey interrupts him to ask where his ring is.  Ian has to stop and think and realizes he must’ve left it on the sink.  He runs off before Mickey can tear him a new one.  Mickey throws his pen down and says to Sandy, “I can’t even.”  Sandy replies, “I can see why you called,” but on Twitter fans have pointed out her lips appear to be saying, “Is he even into this at all?”  WHICH IS ANOTHER THING.  After all Ian’s marriage issues, why is Mickey bulldozing ahead and not noticing what Ian seems to be feeling AT ALL.  (Which appears to be that he’s once again regretting this whole marriage thing.)  Why does the show make the two of them so blind to each other’s feelings now?  WHY?  Now that Lip’s living in the RV, do they even share a room anymore?  They act like they never, ever talk now.  There is such a disconnect hanging over the short time they are shown together in every episode.  Not to mention they’ve been desexualized to the point of being a couple of Ken dolls.  John Wells must be so thrilled he doesn’t have to sit thru dailies of them physically touching anymore.  I’m willing to believe he hired someone to Jeff Giloolly Cam’s leg so he could have Mickey and Ian get engaged and married without any love scenes at this point.

In the last scene, Ian and Mickey are at The Alibi and Ian’s (having a beer) making one last attempt to simplify the wedding.  After another “it depends who’s the bride and who’s the groom” eye-rolling moment, Ian asks, “Can’t we just be Ian and Mickey?”  I guess not, when it comes to this show.  In the past Ian would’ve loved Mickey’s tension away for him-letting Mickey find his release in multiple orgasms, not in wedding planning.  Now all he can do is hire some guy with a guitar to show up at the bar and sing Mickey’s wedding song-and “sing” is a very generous term here.  Props to the show for not having an amazing singer just show up out of the blue, but, for the love of my bleeding ears, couldn’t they have found less of a screecher?  

Mickey is, at first, freaked out by this guitar playing weirdo coming near his booth, but when he recognizes the song he asks, “How the fuck did you know that?”  The guitarist replies, “Little bird told me” indicating Ian, and then unfortunately goes back to the song and soon finds himself way out of his range.  Mickey gives Ian a soft look, Ian gives Mickey one of the smiles he only ever has for Mickey, and Silver Tree becomes JW’s favorite director ever by not even letting us see them holding each other’s hands-that’s below the camera line.  For all we can prove, maybe Ian and Mickey were just reaching for the salt shaker at the same time.  Personally, I would’ve ended the episode with Ian and Mickey metaphorically and literally getting on the same page-they go back to the house, their double bed is covered in Mickey’s wedding magazines and color swatches and seating charts and whatever other wedding prep detritus.  Ian, seeing it all laid out like that says softly, “Are you really doing all this for Terry?” and Mickey says, “Course not, it’s all for us.  We deserve it.”  Then they flop down on the bed together and get to kissing, right on top of it all.  

But no, can’t have them intimate or even on the same side of a booth.  So, you’d think that happy-ish ending we did get means Mickey’s out of his Terry-induced panic, but scenes and stills for the season finale will disabuse you of that hope.  

My final thought is: I’m wondering how much, if any, of these wedding details we’ll see.  The show is too cheap now to spend money on a church wedding with those gorgeous stargazer lilies and the little shits that light the candles.  Plus why would you have Living On A Prayer sung again when you used it in this episode?  Will one of them-or both of them-walk down an aisle?  They’ve already got their rings and have been wearing them-I don’t see them wearing multiple rings each.  If the show had any guts at all, it’d have them exchange cock rings at the ceremony ;P  Will we even get to see the wedding part or will they go straight to some sort of brawl/reception?  And, sadly, I’ve felt from the first time I saw pictures of them driving off in the Mercedes that we’re not going to see them get to consummate the marriage.  I hope I’m wrong about all of it, but I won’t be surprised to be let down utterly-either by what they don’t or what they do show :(  See ya on the other side!

[moviegroovies]

just realized i never wrote that interview with the vampire post i promised y’all, so here we go

first of all! i love it. just want to get that out there. like, 10/10 stars, would watch again, have watched again, almost twice, kind of planned to watch for a sort of fourth time tonight, might not. idk. it’s great!! it’s great both as a movie (i watched the movie first like a blasphemer) and as an adaptation of the book. actually, it’s a GREAT movie adaptation of that book, probably one of the best jobs i’ve ever seen of adapting a book into a screenplay and then getting it on film. as i said, i read the book after i watched the movie, and pretty much everything was adapted directly, even significant amounts of dialogue, to the point that it felt sort of like a novelization, if novelizations were perfect.

this is what i WISH novelizations were, actually. like, using it as an example isn’t fair because it was written before the movie, but as the kind of loser who has read novelizations (i payed. like 40 dollars for a ghostbusters one. and then like 2 bucks for a Different ghostbusters one which i haven’t read yet but don’t have high hopes for), this was what i always want them to be like. same plot, lots of the same dialogue (i HATE novelizations that try to make it their own by changing the dialogue slightly. i was reading that ghostbusters one and i don’t even think i had watched ghostbusters recently but i know the lines well enough that it threw me the fuck off when the author changed them. like if someone came into your house and moved all your furniture slightly to the left? that was what it felt like), but a few things that didn’t happen in the movie, too. deeper characterization, the kind of worldbuilding/character building you can’t really do in a limited time frame on screen. getting into the charater’s thoughts. using nuance. novelizations could totally be this! or at least i wish they were! basically what i’m saying is stay tuned for my unlicensed nuclear accelerator novelization of ghostbusters going up on this blog coming soon. 

anyway, a thing i liked about it as an adaptation of the book was that it was always true to what anne wrote (and i think she did at least part of the script, although i heard the director did heavy edits on it), but there were some lines that weren’t in the book that improved the scenes imo! like the little exchange in the theater of vampires where louis is commenting on the vampires pretending to be humans pretending to be vampires, and claudia responds “how avant garde.” it serves both to clear up what’s going on (since we don’t have the benefit of louis’ narration at this point in the movie) and to humanize them a little. most of the added dialogue did that, and that’s something i really like--especially that line as louis watches new orleans burn and thinks that lestat deserves his revenge. Loved that. and him getting to see the sunrise again through film? oof!!!! honestly i liked the ending of the movie more than i did the book, which makes me feel blasphemous. it seems like louis is just doing... better in the movie. i don’t want to give too many spoilers or anything, but in the book he ends up completely detached, and never gets that gay power moment of telling armand he’s not going to give up his pain and then leaving him, so What’s The Point. on a more positive note, another thing i liked was the “you used to eat rats?” exchange. that was a much needed cute family moment.

oh! and they put some stuff from the vampire lestat into this movie, too, which, again, i liked, or at least, i like now that i know that’s what was happening. lestat being able to read minds and louis not being able to. lestat only wanting to drink the blood of evil doers. a lot of the added stuff helped make lestat more sympathetic, which was a definite necessity. actually, tom cruise acted the hell out of that role, which was surprising. not really that he could act (i’ve seen things i liked him in) but that he could be lestat, a flamboyant vampire prettyboy. wasn’t tom cruise the one who punched someone for implying he was gay? idk. 

actually, i was really surprised how gay this movie was for a movie starring tom cruise and brad fucking pitt. like, tell me before i watched it that those two were the stars and i would have been expecting (i was kind of expecting) the most no-homo rendition of the movie possible. and yeah, they toned it down a little from the book... but not that much. louis’ narration is a lot less overtly homo than lestat’s anyway, and brad pitt really fucking Nailed being louis. 

(which i find hilarious, because while tom cruise apparently got really into the vampire chronicles while they were filming this and had all these opinions in like movie promoting interviews about how lestat was actually a good dude, and loved louis (smthn along those lines i skimmed the shit about this), which really came through in his characterization of lestat, brad read like, one chapter of the book and lost interest. i loved the book, myself, but what a fucking icon.) 

that almost-kiss with armand at the end? also iconic. 

really, the only sexual stuff they actually tuned down was the louis/claudia shit, which i’m all fucking for. like, claudia is a grown woman, but it’s still so awk in the book whenever she’s coming onto louis, especially considering how often he reaffirms that she’s his daughter. even worse when he comments on her sensuality, or when she kisses him.... ick. plus, kirsten WASN’T a grown woman, so that would have been really nasty if they kept it.

oh and christian slater!!! i didn’t know he was in this until i started watching it, and i was very excited to see him. that’s my heathers love talking. i was talking to my dad after i saw it and apparently river phoenix was supposed to play daniel before he died, and my dad thought he would have been a lot better for the role i guess, but personally i think slater really picked up the part. he also didn’t shy away from being a little homoerotic, especially toward the end. he got the part right. plus, heathers. 

and i can’t gush about the actors without talking about kirsten dunst. she was 11 when she was in this (apparently her parents wouldn’t let her actually watch the movie when it came out, which, ha), but she absolutely conquered the part of the 60 year old woman in a child’s body. there were times when i actually forgot that she was just an eleven year old, because she was that good. the scene with the body in her bed isn’t in the book (not quite, although something else happens with claudia and leaving bodies around), and it’s one of the best in the movie imo. you can see lestat doting on her but not understanding her, you can tell why she would resent him, you can see her resentment and before she even snaps at him you can see that she’s an adult woman stuck inside a child (like that villain from batman the animated series--did anyone else think of that?), pissed off that she wants to be treated like the grown person she is but continues to be given dolls. also, there was some peak murder family moments in that scene, with louis standing there lowkey horrified. we never got the exchange with claudia telling louis that she’s going to kill lestat and him telling her Do Not Do This Thing, unfortunately, which was something i liked more from the book, but his concern and confusion in this scene kind of speak to that. you can especially tell that he still hasn’t realized that she’s grown--he’s seeing her the same way lestat is. aww.

so, i read the book and watched the movie in pretty quick succession, and i’m writing this a day after finishing the book and a few hours after my kind-of rewatch and about a week after the last time i saw it all the way through. my memory of both being pretty strong rn, there are only a very few things that i can think of which changed from book to movie outside of things necessary to take it to the screen and keep the movie from being like twelve hours. claudia is necessarily aged up from 5 to 11--it’s just practical, a 5 year old would not nearly have had the range that kirsten did for this. armand is changed from looking like a 17 year old redhead to antonio banderas (is it bad that i’m so uncultured that before this i only knew him as the dad from spy kids?), age 34, in a Really Bad black wig. (in general i’m all for banderas in the role, and he definitely acted it well, but what the FUCK was that costuming. why does his hair look like that. i digress but they did him dirty, especially considering how much Better everyone else looks as a vampire.) the subplot with lestat’s blind father living with him and louis at first is cut, which is kind of a shame imo. i really liked how on edge lestat was when begging louis to kill him (not as bad in context), how it kind of breaks the mask lestat tries to wear and shows that he’s confused and vulnerable and he really just doesn’t know much about being a vampire--that “and why should i know!” outbreak they put in did a good job of being the movie’s counterpart to that scene, however. the ending is changed a bit, altho i’ll leave the spoilers of how exactly up to your imagination. some things should stay sacred, right?

one thing i’m REALLY glad they added was louis freeing the slaves on his plantation.  i think it was a nasty choice on behalf of anne rice to write her sympathetic, thoughtful protagonist as a slave owner in the first place, especially one who by his own admission didn’t see slaves as people for a long time, and it’s unfortunate to me that it had to be adapted in that way (although i don’t think ignoring that aspect entirely would have been a better movie solution), but the slaves were at least made free men before louis moved to new orleans. in the book, louis still burns the house, but he doesn’t free the people enslaved there, and he never reflects on that. fucked up if true, i guess. i blame mostly anne for that whole thing.

ooo, that scene with lestat killing the two prostitutes was good. it’s pretty much adapted word for word from the book, but the book doesn’t have the visual of tom cruise leaping over the coffin to sit on it while she’s in it, and that was one of the sexiest scenes i can remember. so.

just remembered at the last moment that i liked the “i’m going to give you the choice i never had” thing, both because it gives a little hint of lestat background (and makes him more sympathetic/adds to the whole breaking the mask thing that i like) and because they did a Very fucking good callback with it at the end.

there’s probably more about that movie that i have Opinions on, but when i remember them i’ll just have to make another post, ig. i will say tho? that last scene they added is so FUCKING good. cue up sympathy for the devil on my way out, will you?

[wellimhavinga3outof10day]

Lost Lullabies - Chapter Nineteen

Description: Mickey Milkovich, former child star turned action movie star, runs into his old co-star, Ian Gallagher, out on the street in the middle of a winter night. When Mickey takes him in, he doesn’t realize that Ian has the power to completely turn his new life upside down.

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19

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Mickey woke up the next day in his own bed without Ian. He had barely spoken to Ian since their semi-fight in his dressing room. He didn’t know what to say to him. Ian wasn’t mad at him, wasn’t even really disappointed, he’d just seemed... upset. And Mickey had no idea how to make him feel better without giving up everything he’d done with his life. Mickey loved Ian. He loved him a lot. But he didn’t love him more than his career, his success, his life outside of the Southside, who he was without the ghetto surrounding him.

           Mickey reached for his phone, intent on calling or texting Ian to see how he was doing before he got to set. Instead, he got a screen full of notifications and bile in his throat. He noticed Ian had already texted him: Pictures just hit the web. Be safe <3 Mickey felt tears prick his eyes and he wiped them away. With shaking hands, he opened his other messages.

           He had two dozen texts and emails from Liz. Reminders about the press conference they’d scheduled to deal with the repercussions as fast as possible and well wishes. Svet had texted six times. Twice just going over the details of their plan – she was to toe the party line, refuse to give up that their relationship was fake, and avoid saying too much in case it conflicted with Mickey’s statement. In return, Mickey would double his appearances with her and get her a part in the new James Bond movie at his side . The other four messages from her were a mix of words of wisdom and heartfelt pleas for him to be okay.

           Everything else was social media notifications. Mickey opened Twitter and was bombarded with magazines asking for him to comment on the pictures, “fans” calling him all kinds of names, and people telling him they’d stopped following his account. He checked his follower number. Down three million overnight.

           Mickey turned his phone off. Slipping out of bed, he dressed in his best avoid-the-paparazzi clothing. He wore his black hoodie, his worst jeans, and dark sunglasses. Then he went out the back way, hoping to avoid the press camped out front.

           Of course, he’d lived in the building long enough that the press knew about the back exit. Mickey ended up with his head down pushing through a crowd of cameras to get out of the small alley. They were all yelling at him but he couldn’t make out much. He hopped into the car waiting for him and forced himself to breathe while it raced down the street.

           “Are you all right, Mr. Milkovich?”

           Mickey looked up into the rear-view mirror to find the driver watching him. The guy had worked for him for a couple of years now but Mickey had never gotten his name. “Just fine,” Mickey said. Then, because of the panic building inside him, he asked, “Have you ever been offered a bribe to... I don’t know, give away my secrets or take me somewhere against my will?”

           The driver laughed. “Mr. Milkovich, I can assure you, you pay me much more than any tabloid ever could.”

           Mickey nodded and willed those words to comfort him. They didn’t. It’s not like the driver could really do much at this point – the photos were already out there. Mickey itched to look at his phone again or at least turn it on, but he knew it was better this way. He had the press conference set up. He only had to get through the morning and at lunch he would put all the rumours to rest.

           The moment Mickey walked onto set he felt the mood change. Ian had come on his own, figuring stopping to pick him up today probably wouldn’t be the best idea, and Mickey immediately wished he hadn’t. If Ian was standing beside him, Mickey thought maybe he’d have been able to take on the world. But as it was, even on a closed set with most of his face covered, Mickey felt exposed like a nerve.

           He forced himself to move through the quiet gawkers. No one openly stared, just stole quick glances and whispered as he passed. Mickey prayed to a god he didn’t believe in to smite him so he wouldn’t have to last the morning with these people. He wondered if he could get away with offering his statement here first, dispelling the rumours on set before anywhere else, but more likely than not, some gopher would record it on their phone and it would go viral hours before the press conference. And Mickey needed more coverage than that if he was going to keep his career.

           Mickey didn’t see Ian until they wound up on set together. Ian said nothing, just shot Mickey a glance that could have meant any of a dozen things. Mickey simply nodded, hoped that was answer enough.

           The director waltzed onto the set a few minutes later. Upon seeing them, he spread his arms wide and placed a devastatingly snake-like smile on his lips. “My boys,” he said, voice dripping in honey and sarcasm, “What have I done, what could I have done, to deserve such a great present from the universe? Undeniable proof that the two of you are fucking. It’s beautiful. It’s iconic. It’s honestly the most amazing thing that has ever happened to me.”

           He clapped a hand on each of their cheeks. “Just look at you two. Trying to keep this from me like some sort of secret when I knew all along. Hell, I knew nine years ago when you two were barely fetuses! Oh, to have the world fall at my feet and redeem me! I’ve never been happier. I’ve never known happiness this great.”

           Mickey’s hands curled into fists.

           The director turned his way, his smile twisting into something sinister. “And you. Oh, people kept telling me that Mickey Milkovich, the James Bond of his generation, the ladies man, boyfriend of Svetlana Petrov, could not possibly be gay. How could he be? When we have all those uncomfortable sex scenes of him with women? Oh, no, Mickey Milkovich is no fag. No fag at all. And then this morning” – he laughed – “every magazine in town has a picture of you kissing none other than out and proud Ian fucking Gallagher.” He started to clap, nice and slow.

           Mickey shot Ian a look.

           Ian shrugged. “Go ahead.”

           Mickey decked the director. He stumbled back, blood on his lips and dripping over his smile. Mickey hit him again, felt something break beneath his knuckles. When the director fell, he dropped on top of him and kept punching him while the man laughed and laughed and laughed. He didn’t stop until he felt someone pulling him back, then he went willingly, hands in the air like a surrender. The security guard let go of him as soon as he was sure Mickey was done.

           “That was stupid,” Ian said.

           “You didn’t stop me.”

           “If I had, I’d’ve done it myself. And we both know you have more currency here.”

           Mickey snorted, the slightest of smiles on his face as he watched security pull the director to his feet. The man still had a manic smile on his face but at least it was properly bloodied and bruised. His nose had shifted to one side and a couple of his teeth were cracked or missing. Mickey allowed his smile to widen.

           A producer cleared her throat. Both Ian and Mickey looked her way. Without any expression, she said, “We’re not going to be able to shoot for a couple of hours at the least. And that’s only if he doesn’t press charges. I suggest you two go to your dressing rooms to wait.”

           Mickey gave her a wicked smile, liked the way she flinched. He really had missed being someone people were afraid of. As soon as she was gone, they took her advice and disappeared into Mickey’s dressing room. Ian sat him down, found a first-aid kit, and started to bandage his bloody knuckles.

           “You know,” Ian said, “if that gets out, it’s not going to back the ‘it was a joke’ story very well.”

           “I’ve wanted to punch that guy since day one. Everyone knows it.”

           “I guess.”

           “Hey.” Mickey tilted Ian’s chin up with his good hand and looked him in the eyes. “This isn’t about you, remember? If we lived in a different world, hell, if I was a different person, I’d come out for you in an instant.”

           “I know.” Ian kissed him, backed up just enough to lean their foreheads together. “I’m just sorry this is happening.”

           “Not your fault. I kissed you.”

           “I got you drunk. Let you convince me to walk back to the hotel. Did nothing to stop you. Even egged you on by telling you your father died.”

           Mickey laughed. He pressed another kiss to Ian’s lips, liking the way his smile felt against his face. He wrinkled up his nose against Ian’s. “We’re gonna get through this just fine. Trust me on that, okay?”

           “I’d trust you with my life.”

           Mickey hummed in pleasure, stole one last kiss, and then let Ian get back to bandaging his hand. It didn’t take too much longer so they spent most of the morning curled together on that couch, semi-waiting for the director to come back but mostly waiting for noon. When the hands of the clock hit twelve, Ian sighed and Mickey got to his feet.

           “I’ll see you soon,” Mickey said. He kissed Ian hard. “No matter what I say out there, I love you, okay?”

           “I love you too.”

           Mickey tried not to hear the fear, the slight loathing, in Ian’s voice. He forced a smile before he turned to the door and walked out. No one whispered when he passed now, too scared of what he’d do. He left set, jumped in his car, and stayed silent the whole way to the press conference.

           Liz had set it up on the top of some office building that supposedly sponsored him. Not that he knew their name or what they sold or even what he’d done to help them. He did too many commercials a year to really know anything about what he endorsed. He rode the elevator to the roof, glad that whatever company this was, they had a very tall building and a smooth elevator that calmed his nerves.

           Liz met him at the elevator doors, handed him a copy of his statement, and started talking. Most of it went in one ear and out the other. Mickey nodded at all the right points – years of this shit had taught him how to look like he was listening to Liz – and smiled when she finished with her usual pep talk. He stopped before stepping up onto the makeshift stage, looked out at the crowd of reporters waiting for him. He wondered what they had been told about what he was going to say. He wondered how many of them would believe him.

           After Liz finished with her speech about what could and couldn’t be asked of him, she invited him to the stage. Mickey climbed the steps and took his spot at the podium without once looking out at the press. Then, forcing a big smile, he looked up to the camera flashes. He breathed through it and held up a hand to silence them.

           “Thank you all for being here today,” Mickey said, his voice too loud in the microphone. “I’m glad to see that so many of you came. As you know, this morning a picture of me and Ian Gallagher kissing hit the press.”

           A clatter of noise and camera flashes interrupted him. He looked down at his speech until they quieted down.

           “I have prepared a statement to address the rumours about me and Ian.” Mickey swallowed hard. “As you can see in the picture, we’re kissing under mistletoe. It is a well-known tradition that any two people under mistletoe must kiss. That’s what this kiss was. Two friends following a tradition.”

           He tasted bile in his mouth. “Ian has been out since we first worked together in Boy Babysitters almost ten years ago. I have remained his friend and colleague ever since. The night of this kiss, we were drunk and walking home and I caught sight of some mistletoe above us when we stumbled into a wall. I thought it might be...” Mickey trailed off. He tried to force the word funny from his throat but he couldn’t.

           He took a long moment, too long. The press started to chatter, to shout questions, to take pictures. Mickey stared unseeing at the statement in front of him, swallowed the bad taste in his mouth. He held up a hand for silence and slowly the noise died down.

           “I’m sorry,” Mickey said. “I’m sorry. This statement was written for me by my publicist. I gave her the idea for it after Ian told me that it would be the perfect excuse for my actions. But it’s not true.”

           He stared out at the reporters, waiting for them to work themselves into a frenzy, but they stayed quiet. Something like hope burst warm and fuzzy in his chest. “I kissed Ian that night because I’ve spent the last ten years, maybe longer, trying not to kiss him. I kissed Ian Gallagher because I’m in love with him and I always have been.”

           Mickey bit his lip. “I’m gay.”

           That was when the press exploded. Reporters jumped from their seats to get closer to the stage, questions were shouted at him, and the cameras exploded. Mickey tried to blink past the flashes but he couldn’t see a thing.

           The next thing he knew, Liz had grabbed him and security was ushering the two of them back towards the elevator. The doors closed on them and Liz pulled the emergency stop. “Well. That went terribly.”

           Mickey laughed. He couldn’t stop laughing.

           “This isn’t funny. You have no idea the mess you just made.”

           “Isn’t that your job though?” Mickey said. “To clean up my messes?”

           Liz shook her head. “I don’t know what you want me to do about that, Mick.”

           “Nothing,” Mickey said honestly. “I want you to do absolutely nothing.”

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