#i miss the stories and the nights spent watching movies series or simply me watching him game

[child-of-leviathan]

It sucks when you're the fucking therapist friend and hear all about your single friends' struggles with finding the right man for them and they'll come complaining, venting, ranting to me about it but I can't just have a conversation about how much I miss my best fucking friend, my soulmate, my fucking mirror, the person who essentially saved my life. You can love many people in a multitude of ways, and even though our paths split for some time, he'll always be my best friend

[ohheyitsokay]

trials

this takes place in my ‘poly frontier’ universe

pairing: Will “Ironhead” Miller, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Francisco “Catfish Morales, Ben “Benny” Miller and a female reader

wordcount: 2.1k

warnings: all fics in this series are 18+, poly relationship, domestic, romantic, and sexual intimacy. strong language, angst with a happy ending

summary: this one is a Santi story - he tries to bring another girl into the relationship, and learns instead how much he loves you

it wont be everyone's cup of tea but I felt like it was an important part of the story

note: don’t hate Santi! I think this is a pretty normal, and the best sunsets come after rain

>>

Santi was the first to branch out. He didn’t mean to – hated himself for it a little, but he did.

This – whatever this is, it’s a ticking time bomb, he told Will. One of has to do something before it breaks all of our hearts.

It was a lie.

They both knew it. But he had the money and the looks and the confidence and he was just hurt enough by the sight of you asleep in Ben’s lap one afternoon that he just… let it get to him.

Brooded and boiled until he was overcome with false righteousness and pure selfishness.

He didn’t look you in the eyes when he told you he was going to try to get another girl. It wasn’t that he was leaving what you all had, just that he deserved a chance at whatever he called balance. His gaze in the other men’s eyes was too bold – the look of a desperate man, terrified of being hurt so causing it on his own terms.

You nodded numbly, shocked in spite of yourself, scolding and scathing voices in your mind telling you not to be selfish. Not to be greedy.

He deserves more than sharing.

Tucking yourself into Frankie’s arms, you tried not to glare or cry and only failed at the latter. Because it’s not the dating another girl that hurt, really it’s not. Polyamory is hard, and it was always an open option. What hurts is his blatant choice to ignore the relationship his has with you, specifically, that he’s ignoring everything you and him have worked for, built with love and time and care.

Rubbing gentle hands over your skin, Will and Frankie and Ben shared looks as Santi stalks away.

Frankie corners him in the garage the next morning. You had slept between him and Will the night before, but they had all felt you toss and turn, all spent a fair amount of time staring at the ceiling themselves. His dark eyes are an insecure that shoots into Frankie’s core – it’s a look he knows, has spent months overcoming. He swallows hard, his words dying in his throat, and he simply shakes his head.

It almost breaks Santi in two, the first moment one of his loves betrays the damage he’s done, but he tells himself there’s no going back.

“Better now than later, when our parents hate her or –”

Frankie’s look stops him and he flinches away.

Will is at the bar he chooses without an invite, knowing where he’d be without having to even ask and they both try not to think of you at home with Ben, probably dripping flames. Santi wonders if it hurts more to watch him flirt, or to do it, but neither of them say a word to each other. In spite of it all, the respect his judgement, respect his choice, and that hurts too.

It feels strange to have others looking him up and down and to look back, smile with lust void of love and soak in the attention.

Before he succumbs to it, Santi wishes Will would come over, slide his hand around his neck and… stop respecting him so much. It would pull him back, but since he doesn’t, the thought dies under the burn of cheap alcohol.

-

She’s lovely, really, graceful like a cat.

Santi has kept her from you all for a few weeks now, keeping his dignity with distance. But now she’s here, in your home, and you should be jealous but instead you just smile sadly at her, and slip off to the kitchen.

He likes… coffee, dark roast, with just a clump of raw sugar. You’re stirring it when you realize they followed you, hovering at the door. The ache of it is less than it was before and they’re happy together, so for his sake, you sit down across from her.

She’s kind, friendly. Knows the gist of the situation, tells you she’ll go at your pace.

And it crashes into you, how he’s pinned you at a time when know one else is home, offering her up to you like a plea, a child who used the superglue to make a gift, never mind the fact that his hands are both stuck to it and burning.

It feels reasonable to have another woman around, to make the numbers less absurd, to – to help you. Her smile is a little shy and she takes you hand and she looks at Santi with such adoration that a knot loosens in your chest involuntarily.

She doesn’t joke about it, any of it, and you almost wish she would. It would be so much easier to hate her if she was shallow, or stupid, or something but she’s not, and when she smiles you almost think you could be friends. You wonder if you could make it work, like they do for you.

Ben and Will come home early, stepping in like the angels they are, planting themselves solid at your side like trees with roots deeper than they are tall. When Frankie comes home, he takes the spot of the two of them as their eyes draw Santi into another room.

“What the fuck, Garcia,” Benny is as hurt as you are by it all, maybe more.

“Shut up Miller.” He’s glaring, filled with venomous satisfaction at how well the two of you have been talking.

“Cant you see it’s for the better?”

There’s silence – neither of them agree, too confused by him to respond.

“Don’t you ever wonder,” Santi tries again, knowing they’re listening because they love him too.

“No.” They spoke in unison, which makes Will roll his eyes. Neither of them hesitate, and something in Santi cracks.

-

You poke holes in the bottom of a styrofoam container with a plastic fork. She’s long gone now, but the date still lingers as you poke at your leftovers and try to unwind each moment of the date like strings of spaghetti.

On the surface it had gone well, you had thought you had fun until you felt a burn of tears under your eyelids.

Closing them you sigh, breathing like you practiced, gentle tides of love and logic washing over a feelings you tell yourself are selfish.

When you open your eyes, your Santi is standing behind her chair, and you almost cant breathe.

He went away for two weeks to help with a mission, and he’s here, one side of his mouth higher than the other. You want to kiss it, but you smile instead, and say, “You missed her by a couple minutes, sorry,” and actually mean it.

“I caught her in the parking lot,” he sits slowly, carefully, and when he reaches for your hands it’s almost tentative. It makes you blink again, how his eyebrows are bending. For the first time in what feels like forever, you don’t understand what it means, cant predict at all what he says next.

“I broke it off,” his eyes are in yours.

“I don’t understand,” you hear yourself say.

Santi searches for the words, like he had them but cant make them come out of his mouth.

“She’s not you,” he says. “I want you.”

You realize with a start that his hand is trembling, and he says your name in a way you’ve never heard before – like he’s terrified. That’s how badly he wants this, wants.. you. There’s no question in your mind, your eyes answer him.

It’s messy, not like a movie, the way he tugs you up and up and into his arms, the shudder of his broad shoulders and he buries himself into you as much as he can.

Like a hazy, blurry dream, your arms find their way around him, holding him like he’s fragile, another first.

He doesn’t say You’re enough for me, or You deserve the world, or anything dramatic.

Instead he says, “Can I buy you dinner?” And, “I’m sorry,” and “It’s been too long.”

And he says “I love you.”

-

He already asked the others, calling them each on his drive to you. Asked like he was young, if it was okay. Santi knew none of them had fallen in love with her, because even he hadn’t. But he had to ask for their permission as much as yours, to try to win you back.

They were more guarded than you, wary of his passion.

It takes time, and work.

He stays up later than he should talking with Benny about everything and nothing, hands nervously putting together snacks. When the younger man holds you, Santi teaches himself to join, to be held and hold you both. It feels good, which feels like guilt.

He works on that, too.

Frankie and him never talk about it. For weeks he thought his oldest friend had understood, more of less forgiven him without a word. One day they’re out for lunch, and his eyes flicker at the waitress, tucking her hair behind her ear. When he returns his gaze to the man across him, his blood runs cold. It’s been years since he’s seen furious determination brewing in Frankie’s dark, caring eyes, but it’s there now and he hates it. It takes discipline, to watch how he’s perceived as closely as he watched his intentions, but he does it.

It was easier than winning Will back.

“How long has your logic been shit?” Has your heart been in the wrong place this whole damn time?

“I just got on the wrong path, Ironhead.”

“Like hell you did,” his eyes were ice. “You let that happen.”

It would’ve been easier if he punched him. This wasn’t a kiss and make up moment either. The work ended up being long talks while you forced them to drive to pick you up when your car broke down the town over. Forcing words out being so honest it hurt, until has heart and throat felt raw. Making Will understand it was out of his own fears. Showing him how he was fixing it.

And weeks of letting with watch him again, eyes not missing a single touch or flinch or moment between you all. Actions to reinforce his words.

It hurt, but infinitely less than feeling distant from you all to begin with.

-

Will and your Catfish bring it up with you, one sunday afternoon as you tuck yourself between them and let their hands trace your skin.

“How are you doing?”

“I don’t know, Will. Better, I think. I missed him.”

Frankie places a row of warm kisses down the side of your neck.

“He missed you too. It’s Pope, he’s... he’s scared, love.”

“I don’t know if I believe that, yet.”

Ironhead grumbles at your confession, his big fingers squeezing the meat of your thigh.

“You gave him another chance, but you’re holding back. What does your gut say?”

“Unreliable - I’m in love with him.”

His head pops up and he kisses you before half-smiling. Frankie’s hand finds one of his, and they share a look.

“Can we tell you, querida? What we’ve seen.”

“Some objective evidence,” Will kisses you again.

“He loves us.” Another kiss. 

“You.”

-

It’s quiet as Santi flips through his latest files. The evening air is cool, and he should be getting ready for bed but you’re not home yet, and they’re all milling about waiting. You texted them how tired you were, what an awful evening you had.

“It should just be another couple of minutes,” Will says, and Frankie checks his watch. Ben wanders to the kitchen and they can hear him mixing hot chocolate.

When you walk through the front door, they fold you in their arms. Santi holds back, doubt still nagging at his mind. You let him back in, let him take you don't dates, but you didn’t fit together any more. He was running out of ways to communicate with you.

But you slump over, gently pushing aside his files and placing his laptop away before replacing it with yourself. Molding into him you sigh, and almost instantly fall asleep.

You’re small and vulnerable in his arms and the weight on his legs feels like trust.

The air in the room shifts, lighter, more breathable than it’s been in months. Adoring, proud eyes watch, and he wants to cry.

For the first time maybe ever, he’s sure that everything is going to be okay.

-

The bar was mercifully quite that evening, and if made it easy for you to find your love. A small, familiar feeling tugged in your gut as you made your way over to him, eyes on the waitress who was leaning over him with unwholesome intentions.

Then the feeling settled, and was replace with a warmer feeling. She was putting down a tray that had your order on it, and Santi was thanking her, distracted checking your message on his phone.

“Hey, handsome,” you said, the warm feeling spreading throughout your chest. “Can we actually get out of here?”

His brown eyes were big, dark lashes catching the low lights as he stared at you. Somewhere in his mind, he thought too protest because your drink just got there, but the words stuck on his tongue. 

“Yeah... yeah of course, baby,” He signaled for the check before standing to draw you in his arms. Saying no to you had never really been an option. 

The two of you barely made it to his truck before your hands were all over each other. You liked the feel of him, pinning you against the metal frame, the desperate way he kissed you.

Pope was saying something about how you looked so fucking sexy, needing him so badly you couldn’t wait. You couldn’t concentrate on them. 

“Pope,” you said against his skin, sliding your hands under his shirt. In response, he only made a soft groaning noise and increases his urgency.

"Santi," you tried again, before your own gasp cut you off.

"Santi - fuck - Santiago!"

The look he gave you was that of a dog, when you held the treat just out of reach.

"I'm yours," you said, pulling his head in to press against your forehead. "And you," you kissed him, hard, fingers gripping his beautiful curls. "Are mine."

"Fuck," you could feel his heartbeat, his pulse, he was pressing into you so hard, like he wanted to blur where he ended and you began. You knew he understood.

"I am," he said into your skin again and again that evening. Not selfish position, a promise and a proclamation: "I'm yours."

"I'm yours."

<<

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @pbeatriz

poly frontier taglist:

@grogusmum

[mah-gah-lee]

You’re such a bitch - (Charlie Gillespie x reader)

Word Count: 2486 Request: no, again @jatpsmut​ inspired me with his fic “What Happens in Hawaii Stays in Hawaii - Charlie Gillespie x Reader (SMUT - 18+)”. I asked her if I could use the Hawaii idea and now I am writing this!

However, some details change from the original fic:

“Charlie and y/n haven't been best friends since they were kids, but from the first season of jatp. y/n is an additional actor on Julie and the Phantoms, also a dancer. Charlie didn't confess his feelings to y/n in Hawaii.

The only thing I got from the idea of @jatpsmut​ is the fact that something happened in Hawaii. So thank you to her for writing this incredible fic, without it this could not happen Summary: You and Charlie were best friends and roommates in LA. One evening, you heard it with a girl, the next morning, everything is awkward, bitchy and everything changes. Warnings: mention of sexual activities - language disclaimer: I don't know Charlie or his family personally or what his life is like. All you will read in this "x reader" is from my imagination. My point is not to invade Charlie's privacy. I don't want to offend him or offend anybody else in his life (family, potential girlfriend…). All of this is not the reality

 Tagged: @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @standingtalllove​ @lukeys-giggle​ @happinessinthedarkesttimes​ if you want to be tagged in my next fic let me know ! 

--- 

You try to focus on the TV show you were watching, but obviously your roommate had company. And that company was way too loud in your opinion. You were rolling your eyes in annoyance when suddenly your phone vibrates, displaying the blonde head of your second best friend. If there was one thing you miss since you came back to live to Los Angeles, it was obviously living with this sarcastic character. Vancouver seemed so far away to you. You picked up your phone and Owen's face appeared.

 “Hi sweetie.” Owen told you with a smile “Oh, hey… Why that face?” he clearly noticed your annoyance. "Hi O." you said before complaining "Ugh, I miss living with you in Vancouver so much" "Yeah me too. We had so much fun. But hey, I'm sure we'll have a season two." "I hope so much"

You were an extra cast member on Julie and the Phantoms, you also were a dancer on the first season, just as Tori. You wished so much Owen was right about Jatp season 2 renew but Netflix seemed to enjoy making you patient. But the coronavirus had also literally messed up all your plans. However, you were angry, some series came out long after yours and got renewed while yours stayed on hold. It was clear that fans of the series as much as you were just waiting for the renewal of season two.

A moan came out of Charlie's bedroom with the sound of a bouncing mattress, you rolled your eyes again, groaning with a sort of anger.

"Jesus Christ ..." you complained "Wait, y/n, what's that sound?" “You know what I miss most about living with you in Vancouver O’? Rule #3. " “Rule #3? Rule #3" he seemed to think about what you said when he finally realized "Oh ... Oh! Rule #3! Wait.. Oh my God! Is Charlie being with a chick right now? ” He asked you with stupefaction. "Oh I wish you were wrong"

A laugh came out from you best friend mouth and you gave him a killer look through the screen, making him laugh harder. When you were in Vancouver, living with two boys forced you to set limits and rules for living. The first was; everyone cleans up their own mess. Second, the housework takes turns. Third rule: no one-night stand allowed in the flat. Surprisingly as it may seem, this rule had been followed very well by everyone. But at the same time, the boys' schedules really didn't make time to bring anyone home, and then after all, they were professional. But as soon as Charlie returned from his parents' quarantine, he forgot the existence of this rule, as if it did not apply to Los Angeles. It wasn't like he brought a different girl home every night, or even every month. It might have been the second or third time since you had moved in. But this situation embarrassed you more than you might have thought.

“Owen, don't make fun of me. I've been hearing them for about an hour now. " "Poor you. Now you understand how I felt in Hawaii" he smirked at you. "Wait, what did you say?" you asked him, in shocked. "Oh please y/n ... you heard me clearly"

Of course, you had heard what he said, but you were in shock at the revelation, so you needed confirmation. This story was supposed to be a secret between you and Charlie. The fact that Owen mentioned it could only assume two things.

"Did you hear us in Hawaii?" “I was in the room next door! Of course, I heard you. It's not like you and Charlie are the quietest couple ever having sex ... " "It seems Charlie is the loudest one…" you said, referring to your best friend having sex in the next bedroom. "Oh darling please, I can remind you of what you said that night. You two gave me nightmares." "Please don't. I feel so embarrassed right now"

Last year you went to Hawaii with several cast members and Kenny. A booking error forced you to share a bed with Charlie. It seemed that sleeping with a girl seemed more adequate than two boys sleeping in the same bed. Charlie and Owen had avoided that possibility the second the problem had arisen. One thing leading to another, after a few strong cocktails, you and the dark-haired boy had ended up having a horny night. The shame caused the next day made you both never talk about it again and "what happened in Hawaii will stay in Hawaii". You didn’t know that Owen heard you and it seems that boy can keep a secret for so long now.

The problem was that that night you realized that you felt more than an attraction to your roommate. It went beyond friendship or mere sexual tension at the sight of this Canadian. You wanted every aspect of what you might have experienced with Charlie and more: the laughs, the funny times, the lots of talking, the quiet times watching a movie or just playing Nintendo Switch, the sex. But you also wanted the PDAs, the feelings, just being with him like his girlfriend. But the actor was totally oblivious to your feelings for him, and you didn't even want to try to make him understand it on his own. You just created a shell for yourself and buried your feelings deep within yourself.

 “I don’t understand y/n. Why didn’t you tell him your feeling?” “Because I know he doesn’t love me back, O.” “Oh come on! You two are the most stubborn people I ever met!”

Again, for the third time tonight, you've rolled your eyes. You were pretty sure Charlie didn't feel the same way you did. Since Hawaii, neither of you had stepped forward towards each other, but sometimes your behaviors showed that you were more than friends. Another moan was heard from Charlie’s room and Owen's face on the screen was memorable. His eyes were wide and his cheeks were red.

"Okay, y/n. I'm sorry but I don't want to keep talking to you and hear my other best friend hooking up at the same time ..."

 You laughed and he hung up the phone not forgetting to say goodbye. You tried to focus on your screen again, your headphones being way too far away for you to catch them. Minutes later you finally heard the distinctive sound of Charlie's orgasm and knew you were finally going to be able to sleep.

 …

The next morning you woke up with a high level of fatigue. You casually walk to the kitchen to make coffee. While you were pouring yourself a cup of this much-desired black liquid, a person entered the kitchen.

 "Who the fuck are you?"

You raised an eyebrow, bringing your mug to your lips. The girl looked at you with a disgusted face.

"Roommate, darling. Not nice to meet you." "Why the hell are you wearing his shirt?"

A smirk appears on your lips, far too happy that she asked the question. When you were in Vancouver, it wasn't surprising to see you wearing the boys' t-shirts, although you had a preference for Charlie's, there were times when you wore Owen's. The boys never complained about this mania and you had to continue when you moved to Los Angeles with Charlie. The scene was pretty funny, you were there drinking your coffee in a t-shirt borrowed from your roommate while his conquest from last night stared at you in disgust, decked out in another Charlie t-shirt. You took a look at the Looney Tunes t-shirt you were wearing and just shrug your shoulders.

 “Old habits.” You simply said. "Yeah, you're gonna have to break this habit."

You laughed disdainfully. You didn't like this girl. Not because it was the conquest of your best friend for whom you had blatant romantic feelings. But rather because she had this condescension and believed that spending a night with Charlie gave her every right.

 "What makes you think that, sweetie?"

 You leaned against the kitchen counter, your posture offhand, a smirk on your lips. You weren't used to being such a bitch, but the girl in front of you pissed you off. And it was only nine in the morning.

 "Well, hello, I spent the night with Charlie." "Oh yeah sure, but that doesn't mean you're dating him." "Charlie is a great guy"

She wasn't wrong. Charlie wasn't heartbroken but he was still human and a twenty-two-year-old boy. Just looking at her you knew your best friend hadn't chosen her for a serious relationship with her. The little conversation you were having with her now confirmed that he couldn't date her. Another smirk spread across your lips as she looked at you with disdain again.

 "Who the fuck do you think you are? You are nowhere near his level" she said to you

This time, you couldn't help but laugh sarcastically. Yeah, she really pissed you off. Physically, she was everything Charlie didn't like about a potential girlfriend: big breasts, much bigger than him, slightly shallow. Oh but she had a fucking ass and maybe that was why he had chosen her. Her whole body reflected Charlie's choice for a one-night stand, but not the ideal girlfriend.

 "Oh honey, I'm nobody, but neither are you. Listen. You were just a one-night stand and me? Me, I'll still be here in his apartment with his t-shirts on when he brings you home, telling you that it was cool but that it will not go further. I will always be there ... "

Charlie woke up and headed straight for the kitchen. He greeted her conquest with a nod, giving her a hello. Instinctively, he approached you and put his hand on your waist before placing a soft kiss on your cheek. Charlie was tactile, it was his language of love. You couldn't help but smirk at the girl, giving her a victorious look. The actor looked at your outfit and a smile appeared on his lips.

 "So that's where it was! I thought I lost it in the Galapagos." he was referring to his looney tunes t-shirt

Your attention fell on Charlie and you smiled happily at him. You cheekily handed your cup of coffee.

"Coffee?" "Hell, yeah"

He grabbed your cup and took a long sip, leaving his conquest almost nonexistent to his eyes. The girl was so pissed off that she seemed to be boiling. She cleared her throat, annoyed.

 "Hmm, I'm going to go" she said. "Oh wait, let me have lunch and I'll bring you back if you want." "It won't be necessary."

You bit the tip of your tongue, amused, far too happy to hide it. Charlie's conquest returned to his room to get dressed. Your roommate turned to you and gave you a questioning look.

"y/n, what did you do?" "Nothing. We were happily getting know each other. I'm surprised at your choice, by the way" "Are you getting revenge?" "Get revenge for what?" "Since ... Hawaii, you've scared all the girls I've brought back." "Did I scare them? Stop, I haven't acted any differently than usual." “You scared them away,” he repeated. "Oh come on, Charlie, please, it's not like you're going to date them."

 He pulled away from you with a look of dismay. You were not wrong, he had never called back the girls he had brought back here, he did not intend to call back the one who was currently in his room. In fact, the only person he really wanted to spend time with was you. But since Hawaii, you seemed to be okay with never mentioning your night together again. This Canadian boy has been in love with you for months, maybe even years now. It quickly fell for you when you were in Vancouver.

"You're right. But I could have ..." he finally confessed "It's wrong. You know it's wrong Charlie, I know you, I'm your best friend. These are not the kind of girls you date. "Yeah… I couldn't date any of them. They just aren't you." He said, his last sentence ending in a whisper before hastening to take a sip from your cup of coffee.

You were paralyzed. Did he really just say what you've been dreaming of hearing for months? Did he just drop it like a bomb, in the middle of a morning conversation between sips of coffee?

“Wait, what?” “Nothing” “It wasn’t nothing, Charlie, you said something” “Nothing important” he repeats “Did you just say that if you didn’t date those girls it’s because they weren’t me?” “You seems to hear voices” “Charlie, I’m not joking… Did you say that?!” “Maybe” “Oh fuck, you’re an idiot!” “I am a..”

You snatched the cup of coffee from her hands and hurriedly put it on the counter. Never mind about the stains on the floor, you will clean up later. You didn't want to miss a second of this possibility. You wrapped your arms around Charlie's neck before resting your lips on his. Your best friend seemed surprised at first so much but quickly relaxed and wrapped his own arms around your waist as your lips moved to give the kiss more tender. The situation was most strange and funny; you were kissing your best friend, running your fingers through his long brown hair. You had to admit that even though you had found him attractive with his Luke's look but you couldn't imagine Charlie without that impressive mass of hair. Luke had short hair, Charlie had long hair. End of the discussion.

So, you were kissing your roommate, making up for lost time while in his room, a girl he had fucked the night before gathered her things. Charlie's conquest stepped out to head for the exit. You broke the kiss making Charlie growl in protest.

"I'm not showing you where the door is." you said. "whore .." the chick whispered.

Charlie stepped away from you and brought his one-night stand to the door, apologizing. He wasn't that kind of boy to go from girl to girl and the circumstances were really strange. The girl left, not without forgetting to curse him. When Charlie walks into the kitchen, you were sitting on the counter, a smirk on your face.

"You're such a bitch y/n" “It's my revenge for keeping me awake last night.” 

His gaze was sly, his smile was mischievous and you knew he was going to find a phrase worthy of the fucking boy he could be. 

"I can keep you awake for a while if you want." “A date wouldn't be too complicated, Charlie. Please be a gentleman. "You can count on me"

He gave you a softer look and you wrapped your arms around his neck again before kissing him. Ultimately, not everything that happened in Hawaii has to be restricted to Hawaii.

[outerbankspreferences]

Is It Just Me? - Chase Stokes

Is It Just Me – Chase Stokes

 Word Count: 2893

 MASTERLIST

It's been way too long for me to find it this hard Sitting alone, my fingers picking the sofa apart An attempt to distract from the fact that I miss you I wonder if your friends have had to carry you home And stay for the night because they don't want to leave you alone Way before it was fun, it's becoming an issue

I know it's cruel But I kind of hope you're tortured too

 It had been exactly 3 months and 13 days since you and Chase had broken up. You wished it would have been a shock to you, but you had seen this coming. Things with Chase were great in the beginning. He was caring and sweet towards you. You could remember a time someone had cared for you as he had. You always supported Chase with everything he wanted to do with his life. You met him when he had just started out acting, and you were proud to watch his career blossom to the extent it had.

 But had someone told you 6 months ago that you guys wouldn’t be together anymore you would have denied the accusations. 6 months ago, you thought Chase was in love with you.

 Chase had been going back and forth to North Carolina for auditions and eventually got the leading role in the television series. You spent the first month with him and his new cast mate Rudy, having the time of your lives with the other people on the show. The whole cast would go out to different clubs every weekend enjoying spending time together.

 Just a little over 6 months later you were still going to clubs but this time on separate sides of the country. You couldn’t process what had happened in a healthy manner and instead turned to going out with your friends every weekend to keep your mind off things. It always ended the same, one of your friends dragging you up the stairs of your once shared apartment because you were too drunk to do it yourself. They had grown accustomed to the weekend ritual of getting you sleep wear and a bucket for the morning.

 Then you would wake in the morning, puking the nights content in the bucket popping Advil for the headache and dragging yourself to couch, throwing on some stupid movie that you wouldn’t be able to watch anyways. Instead, you would pick at the loose strings of the sofa thinking of all the times you spent in the apartment with Chase.

 Tell me, does your heart stop at the party when my name drops? Like you're stood at the platform when the trains cross Are you hurting, yeah you must be Or is it just me? Tongue-tied, screaming on the inside When I say that we broke up and they ask why Are you crying in the shower like a freak? Or is it just me?

 As you sit picking away at the sofa, you mind wanders to Chase. You still follow everyone on Instagram, and you were still good friends with Rudy, so you could see everyone’s stories. Rudy had been the only one to keep in touch with you, which surprised you because he and Chase seemed to be such good friends.

 You wondered if Rudy ever asked about you to Chase, and then you wondered what Chase’s reaction would be. Would his heart be in his stomach at every mention of your name, or would he simply shrug like you guys had never been more then distant friends?

 You sat wondering if Chase ever thought back to the day at the airport. The way he let you walk through security with no more then just a side a hug you would give a sibling. Wishing you a good flight and see you later before leaving. He hadn’t even waited for you to board the plane.

 There were so many things you had wanted to say to him. You want to tell him you loved him, that you would fight for him. More so you wanted him to fight for you, for the years you had spent together. To fight for the promises he made to you, the ones you made together and the ones to come. You wanted to apologize for not being enough, but you couldn’t find the right words, so you watched him walk out of your life.

 I heard a rumor you've been spending some time With that blonde girl that you work with and I know she's exactly your type And my miserable mind's running wild with the picture Or are you there by yourself, dialing, redialing my number? And I'm calling your mother, spilling tears on my jumper again The way I am

I know it's cruel But I kind of hope you're tortured too

 1 month later, Chase’s mother, Jennifer, had called you because she had seen the announcement on Instagram. The two of you had been close while dating Chase considering how close he was with her. Your mother lived down south, and you didn’t get to see her that often, so Jennifer was a close second.

 You had heard rumors from Drew and Rudy about Chase and Maddie hanging out together more, and it didn’t come as a shock to you. In the last bit of your relationship, you played second fiddle to her on multiple occasions. “It’s probably nothing, it because they have scenes together.” Rudy would make excuses over facetime when he watched your face drop at the mention of her name. “Yeah, you’re probably right, nothing to get worked up over.” You responded in a less then convincing tone, “she seemed super cool the couple of times I met her.” “Yeah she is. I think under different circumstances the two of you could have been friends.” He encouraged.

 When the nights started to get cold in LA again you found yourself struggling to sleep. It was at these times you would reread old text messages and look through old pictures of the two you. You knew it wasn’t healthy, but you weren’t ready to move on. Chase had extra time to mourn the lose of the relationship while you were still grieving. It was on these cold nights alone in the apartment you shared that you began to wonder if he was thinking about you. Was he sitting next to her thinking about you? Was he wondering whether he should call you or just delete your number?

 Tell me, does your heart stop at the party when my name drops? Like you're stood at the platform when the trains cross Are you hurting, yeah you must be Or is it just me? Tongue-tied, screaming on the inside When I say that we broke up and they ask why Are you crying in the shower like a freak? Or is it just me?

 It was early in the morning in North Carolina and Chase was sitting on the patio of his shared apartment with Rudy. The sun was just starting to rise in the distance as he found himself restless yet again. He had been awake for about an hour just laying in his bed when he finally decided to get up. He was careful not to wake the sleeping girl next to him. She felt different next to him compared to you. When the two of you slept together you always liked to be the big spoon. Chase let you, finding comfort being wrapped up in bed next to you. Maddie was different, she preferred to lay her head on his chest, letting the sound of his beating heart lull her into sleep.

 Not soon after Rudy came on the patio too, and Chase cursed him for being a night owl. “Not tired?” Rudy asked pulling out the bong they kept under the table. “No, and I didn’t want to wake Mads’” Chase spoke up tossing Rudy the lighter next to him watching the blonde inhale the smoke.

 “I can’t stop thinking about her.” Chase finally spoke up, keeping a hushed tone just in case. “Oh yeah?” “I shouldn't have left her like that. It wasn’t fair to her I just didn’t know what to do.” Chase explained and Rudy didn’t need to be a love doctor to know he was talking about you.

 “It’s been 2 weeks, she’s okay.” Rudy explained and Chase gave him a confused look. “When you guys broke up, I stayed in touch with her. She was mine friend too, and I felt bad that we all sort of dropped her when you guys broke up.” Chase nodded his head in understanding but was still jealous that Rudy got to talk to you. “Why did you break up with her? Not that I’m judging, I just thought things were going good between the two of you.”

 It was Chase’s turn to have a hit from the bong while he thought of his answer. “Shit man I don’t know. Things just feel different with Maddie then they did Y/N. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did.” “Are you sure you’re not feeling too much as an actor oppose to being a person. Sometimes having a love interest on show can be different and confusing.” The blonde tried explaining to him but even he saw the demise of the relationship before Chase start acting with Madelyn. “Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?” Chase asked looking at Rudy and he could tell by the look in his eyes that it was doubtful. “You hurt her man. I think maybe one day, but not right now. I think right now she’s just trying to figure out how to do this without you.” Rudy could see the few tears in Chase’s eyes, and he knew that this wasn’t easy on him ether.

 Chase got up but before leaving he spoke one more time. “If you talk to her again, just tell her that I never meant to hurt her the way I did.” Chase still wasn’t sleepy but the effects of the marijuana did aid in his problem, so he finished off with a shower. He turned the water to steaming hot and then got in. He let the water soak his hair while he wondered what you were doing right now. It only took a few more minutes for the tears to start. Chase stayed another hour in the shower wondering if he made the right decision.

 'Cause this would be one whole lot easier God, I know that's selfish but it's true If underneath some calm exterior You're all fucked up too

 The first few months of quarantine had been rough on you working from home. You also felt alone all the time but seeing Chase’s Instagram post sent you spiraling down another unhealthy path. You had just started to get better. You weren’t drinking as much, and you had let your friends set you up on a group date. You knew you weren’t ready for another relationship just yet, but you also couldn’t hide in your apartment for the rest of your life.

 You had also been talking to Rudy a lot more. He had been your biggest support through all of this. He had flown back to LA a couple weeks ago to help you move to a new apartment. You figured if you were going to move on you had to move from the place you spent the most time with Chase. It was bittersweet because not only did you have good memories at the home with Chase, but those memories extended to your other friends as well. Rudy had ensured you that you would make knew memories in your new place.

 But when you woke up on June 14, 2020 you almost had a heart attack. It had been 3 months and 13 days to the day, and he had already moved on. Now you were stuck trying to grabble with the emotions you were feeling. In some messed up way at first you didn’t want him to be happy. You wanted him to hurt the way you did, but you knew it wasn’t right. There was a small part of you that was happy that he was now happy.

 Then you were reminded that you owed Chase his half of the damage deposit. Rudy had told you they all moved back to LA and were waiting for season one to come out. You debated on just giving the money to Rudy for him to pass along, but you also wanted to face Chase, to show him that you were now okay even it was a lie.

 You took the latter of the chooses and sent him a text. (Y/N) It’s Y/N, I have your half of the damage deposit from the apartment. I can drop it off or you can pick it up if you want. You stared at the text message for fifteen minutes before sending it. It only took five for him to answer and you dashed to look at the phone. (C) Oh shit I forgot about that. I mean if you want to keep it, that’s fine. You scowled at the text. You didn’t need or want his pity money. (Y/N) I’m fine without it, if your busy I can send it with Rudy the next time he’s here. (C) Okay, no that’s fine I can come by today and get it just air drop me your address. You did just that deciding against messaging him back.

 Chase’s heart fluttered a little when he saw your name come up on his phone. He hadn’t heard from you in months, and he assumed it was going to be about the post on his Instagram. He made the decision that Maddie made him the happy he wanted to be and left you. He had just gotten back in town when you told him about the deposit, and he didn’t mind letting you keep the money. It was the least he could do after everything he put your though. His heart sank when you declined his offer but lite back up when you offered for him to come over.

 Tell me, does your heart stop at the party when my name drops? Like you're stood at the platform when the trains cross Are you hurting, yeah you must be Or is it just me? Tongue-tied, screaming on the inside When I say that we broke up and they ask why Are you crying in the shower like a freak? With only cigarettes for company? Are you crying in the shower like a freak? Or is it just me?

 He honestly thought of this as his chance to apologize for everything that happened. You didn’t deserve for him to treat you like that, and he owed you an explanation. He drove over to your house, white knuckled the whole way. You lived in a small, gated apartment building and he remembered Rudy telling Maddie B. about it. He remembered Rudy saying how excited you were for a new place, and he wasn’t sure if Rudy was just saying that to upset him. Every time Rudy mentioned something about you it always made his heart sink underground and he was reminded about the way he treated you.

 Chase started to walk up the stairs to your apartment once you buzzed him in but to his surprise you were waiting outside on the step. You looked tired and had lost weight which worried him because you were small to begin with. “Hey.” He spoke not really knowing what else to say. “Hi.” You said and he could hear how sore your voice sounded almost like you had been crying. You were smoking, which was something new, but he figured this was just as stressful for you as it was him You handed him an envelope with his name on it. “Uh, I cleaned the whole apartment, and nothing was broken so we could all the money back. Your half is in there, so I just need your key to give to the landlord.” You explained looking at Chase. He pulled his keys from his pocket fumbling with the ring.

 “Y’know, I never meant”- “Please don’t” “Please don’t want?” Chase looked at you confused. He thought you wanted an apology. “I can’t listen to it Chase. I know it’s mean, but I’m not ready to hear you apologize. I’m just starting to get better, and I don’t need you to set me back again.” You explained looking him the eyes. He flinched when you said again. He handed the key back to you. “Thanks, I hope everything works out. I’ll make sure to watch the show.” You smiled at him and he didn’t realize how much he missed seeing you smile. He returned the smile before turning on his heels to leave. “For the record Y/N, you weren’t the only one to get hurt in this.” And it was your turn to flinch at his words. “I guess grief looks better on some people.” And with that you escaped back into your apartment sliding down the door letting out a silent cry. What you didn’t know was that Chase was going back to his car to the same thing.

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𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐨𝐲

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒���𝐯𝐞𝐧

↳ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 | uh fighting? Lmk if anything.

↳ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2124

𝐚/𝐧 ~ sorry I haven't updated this story in a while. But I'm back now!

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<- previous chapter

After a couple of days, Rory kinda got used to her new "home." Since Tony didn't know how long it would be before they went back to California, and with Pepper gone, they decided it was best if Rory just took a break from school.

Rory did eventually grow to like her new room. She was not allowed to leave the current floor, so she basically just spent all of her time there. Tony was gone all day and didn't get home until very late at night, meaning Rory had to have food delivered. She didn't mind, though. She figured that if they end up staying, she'll be able to tell Tony what all the good restaurants are.

Tony never told her anything about why they were here with the exception of, "Daddy has business."

So in order to pass the time, Rory would read or watch movies. She even took up drawing which turned out to be something she isn't too bad at.

This morning, Tony was already gone by the time Rory got up, so she got dressed and migrated to the living area. She sat on one of the couches near the large window and began sketching the tall buildings surrounding her.

As she finished the shading on one of the skyscrapers, she peered back up to see a tall man with long, black hair dressed in what looked like a Halloween costume standing on the terrace. Rory put down her sketchbook and looked closer. He was very tall and had large, golden horns that decorated the top of his head. She had no clue as to why this man was standing outside of her window on her father's building.

Rory looked to her right and noticed her father, in the Iron Man suit, land on the landing pad. The man just stood there, watching as machines swiftly removed the armor from Tony's body.

The strange man made his way into the room from the balcony. The room she was in. Rory didn't know what to do. She was frozen, scared. Instead of running away as any sane person would, Rory remained in her chair.

The large man entered the room. He studied his surroundings, his eyes eventually landing on Rory. "Who might you be?" He asked with disdain.

Rory could do nothing but blink at him, too afraid to speak. He opened his mouth to say more, only to be interrupted by the presence of Tony. "Rory, come here," Tony said blankly.

Rory immediately dropped her things and ran to her father's side. Tony wrapped his arm around her protectively, hoping to shield her with his body.

The man watched this all happen before finally speaking, "Please tell me you're going to appeal to my humanity." He spoke as if she weren't there.

"Actually I'm planning to threaten you," Tony responded. Rory couldn't sense any different emotions other than his natural sarcastic tone.

"You should have left your armor on for that," the man bantered, walking closer to Tony and Rory.

"Yeah," Tony pushed Rory behind the bar. "It's seen a bit of mileage, and you've got the glow stick of destiny." Rory crouched down below the bar and pulled her knees into her chest. She couldn't help but let tears stain her cheeks, afraid of what was happening. "Would you like a drink?" Tony asked the man as he walked behind the bar, actively trying to ignore you in hopes you wouldn't become a target.

Rory heard the other man laugh. "Stalling me won't change anything," he said. If Rory knew what it meant, she would describe their conversation as passive-aggressive.

"No, no. threatening." Tony began making himself a drink. "No drink? You sure? I'm having one.

"The Chitauri are coming. Nothing will change that." His words sounded like gibberish to Rory. "What have I to fear?"

Rory watched her father casually make a drink as if nothing was wrong. "The Avengers. That's what we call ourselves. We're sort of like a team." Rory had no idea what he was going on about. ""Earth's mightiest heroes"-type thing."

"Yes, I've met them."

"Yea," Tony's smile helped calm Rory down. He had to have the situation under control, right? "It takes us a while to get any traction, I'll give you that one. But let's do a headcount, here. Your brother, the demi-god," demi-god? "A super-soldier, a living legend who kind of lives up to the legend." He secretly slipped a metal-looking band on each wrist.

"A man with breathtaking anger-management issues, a couple of master assassins, and you, big fella," none of his words were making any sense. "You've managed to piss off every single one of them."

"That was the plan."

"Not a great plan," Tony walked past you and out from the bar. "When they come, and they will, they'll come for you."

"I have an army."

"We have a hulk."

Rory finally gathered enough courage and stood up carefully. She peeked her head over the bar to watch the men while also trying to stay out of the way. Tony was approaching the man as they spoke; the man keeping his ground.

"I thought the beast had wandered off," the man said.

"You're missing the point. There's no throne," Tony's voice rose slightly. "There is no version of this where you come out on top. Maybe your army comes and maybe it's too much for us, but it's all on you. Because if we can't protect the Earth, you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it."

Tony took a sip of his drink while the man took a few steps closer, a scowl spreading across his features. "How will your friends have time for me when they're so busy fighting you?"

For the first time since this scene began, Tony looked scared. The man brought his scepter-looking thing up and tapped it against Tony's chest with a clang noise. The man's face dropped for a second before he tried a second time, and then a third. "This usually works."

Tony didn't look scared anymore. "Well, performance issues, it's not uncommon. One out of five--" his sentence was cut short when the man forcefully grabbed Tony's throat and threw him onto the floor. Rory squealed and then immediately covered her mouth.

The man turned his head in Rory's direction with a puzzled look. He turned away from her as soon as Tony stood up and went for his neck again. "You will all fall before me," he said.

"Deploy!" Tony called before the man threw him out the window, shattering the glass. Rory screamed with all her might. Did she just watch her Dad be murdered? What was he going to do to her?

Rory hid behind the bar once more, watching and listening closely to her surroundings. A loud sound rippled through the room causing Rory to throw her hands over her ears to block out the noise. She peeked over the bar and saw nothing but more shards of glass and broken furniture.

The man stared Rory down. "Who are you?"

Rory gulped, "who are you?"

He chuckled. "I am Loki, of Asgard. I'm surprised you have not yet heard of me." His tone was a lot softer with her than it was with her father. "What is your name, little one?"

"Rory," she nervously answered his question. "My name is Rory."

"Let me guess; Stark's child?" She didn't say anything. Rory simply nodded. "Ah I see," he gave you an almost heartwarming smile. "Come here, Rory."

Fearing she had no other choice, Rory walked over to Loki and he crouched down to meet her gaze. He smiled at her. Rory watched her father fly up behind him. She was more than thrilled to see her father alive and more tears fell from her eyes.

"And one more thing," Loki's face dropped and he spun around to face Tony. "Get away from my daughter!" Tony shot at Loki, sending him flying backward. Rory jumped out of the way, too stunned to do anything else. With Loki knocked out, Tony looked towards his daughter, "Rory go hide, now!" He flew away into the sky, and Rory wasted no time in running to her bedroom.

She slammed the door shut and locked it. She looked around her room for anything that she could put in front of the door to make it harder to reach her. Rory tried to move the couch, but it was no use. It was too heavy for a ten-year-old to manage. She tugged on her roots as she spotted her desk chair. Once it was securely tucked under the knob, Rory ran over to her window to watch what was unfolding.

Rory couldn't help herself as she began to sob. She was afraid and she was alone. There was nothing she could do to help. Tons of thousands of aliens flooded the skies and streets of New York as Rory sat up in her bedroom, watching. She was sobbing uncontrollably as she pressed her face and hands into the large window.

More loud noises were flowing from the living area into Rory's bedroom and Rory could do nothing to stop them. She hoped that the man who called himself Loki was gone and that her Dad was alright.

At this moment, Rory really felt like a child. She felt small and helpless. Lonely and afraid. There was nothing else she could do except watch. She had no clue as to what she was watching either, which was not making her feel any better.

At long last, the aliens seemed to dissipate and things seemed to calm down. It looked to Rory like the fight was over. But who won?

Rory was drawn away from her thoughts by the sound of her father's voice calling her name. She nearly sprinted out. She ran up to Tony and engulfed him in the tightest bear hug she could manage. He was still in his suit and covered in dirt, but neither seemed to mind.

"I was afraid," Rory murmured into his neck.

"I know, bubs." They pulled away from the hug and Rory got the chance to really see the other people in the room.

There was a giant-sized man with green skin, a man with a shield, a man with a bow and arrow, a man with a red cape and long hair, and what looked like Natalie, only with shorter hair. They looked odd. As if they were straight out of a movie. She noticed Loki in handcuffs. He looked angry and sad at the same time. Rory didn't really know what he did, but she knew he lost and her dad won.

─── ��� ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──���

Tony held a silver case in one hand and Rory's in the other as he walked alongside the other Avengers waiting to send Loki away. Tony had made it very clear that from now on, Rory would not be leaving his side.

Rory let go of her Dad's hand to let him deal with the case. Thor, as he had told Rory to call him, led Loki a few feet away from everyone else. He waited for Loki to grab hold of the glass container for the Tesseract. Before she knew it, the pair had disappeared in a storm of blue.

Once everything else was settled, Tony reached for Rory's hand again and walked her over to the rest of the Avengers. "Rory there's some people I'd like you to meet," he motioned to the team. "That's Capsicle, Legolas, Jolly Green, and the Triple Imposter. This is Rory." The others shook their heads at Tony's nicknames.

"Steve," the tall, blonde man smiled and Rory shook his hand.

"Bruce," the shorter man with grey hair politely smiled and waved.

"Yea," Nat showed you a friendly smile to which you returned. "Nice to finally meet you, officially."

"And I'm Clint," the last man with spiky hair and sunglasses introduced himself.

"Hi," you said, shyly and waved at them all.

"Bubs, you go wait in the car I'll be there in a sec," said Tony.

"Okay. It was nice meeting you all!" You said as you walked to the car.

"You ready to go, kiddo?" Tony asked as he got in the car and fastened his seatbelt.

"Are we going home? Like, back to Malibu?" you asked as he started the car and pulled out.

"Yea," he smiled. "I think we deserve a break."

"What about the tower?"

"We're working on it. It'll be fixed in no time."

"Good," you sighed

"Good?"

"I don't mind it anymore. I don't think it would be so bad if we moved here."

"Really?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Really."

Next chapter ->

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[tilbageidanmark]

Movies I watched this week - 39

I spent over 50 (!) hours on the sofa this week, (enjoying myself 85% of the time)...

Sløborn, an ominous Danish-German TV pandemic series, very much like Soderbergh’s ‘Contagion’ and in ‘Black Mirror’ style. Normal life of a small island community between Denmark and Germany breaks down and completely collapses when it is hit by a lethal bird flue like virus.

It was extremely prescient, as it was shot in 2019, before Covid! Conceived as Si-fi, it looks today like TV, because the series was able to capture everything that happened around the world after January 2020 in accurate details.

With Roland Møller (of ‘Riders of Justice’). 7+/10

✴️      

My introduction to “The grandmother of The French New Wave”, Agnès Varda (Hard to believe that I never saw her films before!):

✳️✳️✳️ “Inspiration, Creation and Sharing...” Varda by Agnès, my first Varda is her last 2019 auto-biography, in which, at 90, she shared footage and stories from her life and work. The first sample clip (of meeting her Uncle Yanco in Sausalito) won me over, and the rest convinced me to catch up on everything I’ve missed through the years. What a wonderful artist!

✳️✳️✳️ Cléo from 5 to 7. A feminine film about female identity - a new favorite! A beautiful singer must wait 2 hours for the results of her cancer tests. With a magnifique mid-film scene (at 0;38) of the heartbreaking chanson 'Sans Toi', marking the beginning of her quiet transformation.

✳️✳️✳️ Vagabond, a story of a lonely, young woman, an unapologetic drifter, unglamorous, aimless, independent, desperately lost. Dark and nonjudgmental exploration of the refusal to conform to anything. 8+/10.

✳️✳️✳️ (For Sammy - Per our conversation). The Gleaners and I, "The eighth best documentary film of all time”, per ‘Sight & Sound poll. Derived from the famous painting by Millet. Simply wonderful!

✳️✳️✳️ One Hundred And One Nights, 100 year old Michel Piccoli “Monsieur Simon Cinema”, hires a young girl to reminisce with about the history of cinema. An unsuccessful Meta-film that nevertheless is a love letter for cinephiles. Populated by 3 dozens of Who’s Who of French (and World) stars, playacting in this symbolic, Fellinisque fable that draws upon the classics. Mastroianni, Depardieu, Belmondo, Alain Delon, Catherine Deneuve, Jeanne Moreau, Anouk Aimée, Fanny Ardant, Gina Lollobrigida, Jane Birkin, etc, etc..

(Photo Above).

✳️✳️✳️ The Young Girls of Rochefort, the wonderful, colorful, sentimental musical by Varda’s husband Jacques Demy, with the most beautiful woman in the world and her sister. Romantic eye candy set to music by Michel Legrand. A year later Deneuve would do Belle de Jour, and Françoise Dorléac would die in a car accident, 8+/10

✳️✳️✳️ Even better, The Young Girls Turn 25, Varda’s 1993 behind the scenes documentary and return to small town Rocheford, to show how it changed the town and left an impression. 9/10

���...The memory of happiness is perhaps also happiness...”

✴️         

The other Jacques Demy modern opera The Umbrellas of Cherbourg knocked me over all over again. Catherine Deneuve’s angelic beauty in this film made me cry for the duration like a baby. And not only at the train station when they say goodbye forever.

10/10

✴️          

Night moves, a tense thriller by Kelly Reichardt, about three radical environmentalists who blow up an Oregon dam. Slow and tense, and like her ‘First Cow’, watching it filled me with constant, low-level anxiety. The off-screen sabotage is placed at the exact mid-point of the movie: The first half is the preparation for it, and the second half shows the aftermath of the act. 7+/10

✴️        

2 unexpected Small Town gems by Miguel Arteta:

✳️✳️✳️ The good Girl, an odd and surprising mismatched romance between 30 year old Jennifer Aniston and Jake Gyllenhaal (22) as employees of a Texas big-box store that is always empty. Her voice-over reminded me of True Romance’s Alabama Whitman. 7/10

✳️✳️✳️ Ed Helms, a sheltered insurance salesman from the backwaters of Wisconsin, goes to an convention in the big city of Cedar Rapids, Iowa. The nearly conventional story arc has some genuinely heartfelt funny moments. With Maeby Fünke, as Bree the prostitute and Sigourney Weaver as the ex-teacher he balls. Also a surprising drug party, where he smoke crack cocaine and loves it. 5+/10

✴️          

Same theme of people prostituting their own ‘morals’, the notoriously-prudish 1993 Indecent Proposal didn’t age too well. “Billionaire”-porn that asks the question ‘How much would you pay for one night with Robert Redford?’ Gratuitous semi-naked Demi Moore included.

Related: “Stop hitting the button!”

✴️        

Wildland (Kød & blod = Flesh and blood), an uncomfortable and claustrophobic Danish gangster thriller about a 17 year old girl who moves in with the criminal family of Sidse Babett Knudsen, her estranged aunt. 6+/10

“For some people, things go wrong before they even begin”

✴️     

Jim Jarmusch‘s Broken Flowers, a touching road film with Bill Murray, as an old ‘Don Juan’ who receive a pink, unsigned letter from an old lover, letting him know that he has a 20 year old son he never knew about.

Loveliest film of the week.

✴️       

The 2 films directed by Tom Ford:

✳️✳️✳️ A single Man, a sad and lonely gay professor, closeted in 1962 Los Angeles, is preparing to kill himself with a gun, after his boyfriend / love of his life had died in a car accident. Mute and haunting aesthetics in the fashion designer’s debut film, based on a Christopher Isherwood novel.

The ‘Stormy Weather’ dance scene between Charley and George. 8/10

✳️✳️✳️ Nocturnal Animals: Amy Adams is an unhappy owner of a fancy art gallery who receives a disturbing book manuscript written by her ex-husband, which symbolizes their relationship 20 years prior. Rarefied visuals and distinctive style.

Starts with an astonishing scene of obese old ladies dancing naked at Amy’s gala event. Michael Shannon rules as a dying Texas detective! 6+/10.

✴️        

Jean Vigo’s 1933 classic Zero for Conduct was so blatantly anarchistic, it was immediately banned in France until after WW2. In silent film style, it tells about a group of mischievous kids who rebel against the authorities of their old-fashioned boarding school. Part-inspiration for Truffaut's 400 Blows.

✴️      

Anatomy of a murder, Otto Preminger’s 1960 courtroom drama, with opening credits by Saul Bass. Crisp black & white cinematography, and with rape victim Lee Remick playing it as an outgoing loose girl of ambiguous morals, a modern floozy. 7/10.

✴️                

Blush, a wondrous, spectacularly-animated, wordless short by Joe Mateo. What starts as a riff on ‘The Little Prince’, ends up like the opening montage from ‘Up’. The obvious realization that this is a personal metaphor makes the story even deeper.

I watched it twice back to back. 10/10

✴️       

If You're Not in the Obit, Eat Breakfast - 95 year old Carl Reiner asks a bunch of charming nonagenarian friends how they manage to live so well for so long. Their answers may (not) shock you...

Spry Dick Van Dyke (92) and half-his-age wife end the film with a lovely rendition of “Young at heart”

✴️            

Hi-school-level adaptation of Thomas Piketty's book Capital in the 21st Century. A breezy discussion of how slave economy and colonialist military repression 300 years ago turn into extreme capitalism of inequality & tax-avoidance today. America is now similar economically to what England was in the early 1800s. A tiny percentage of society controls almost all its wealth. (Full text of the book here).

✴️            

Ride the eagle, a flat new indie about a guy whose estranged hippy mother leaves him her cabin at the lake when she dies, but only if he complete a certain list of tasks. Could be so much better, but the actor playing the guy was just so terrible. Unlike JK Simmons who had a small role. Best detail, when he discovers that all the cabinets in the house are full with pot.

✴️       

Old, my first, (and possibly last), M. Night Shyamalan. The seductive premise of a secluded beach at a fancy tropical resort that ages everybody who comes there, turns into an unconvincing Twilight Zone bore.

...”(Gurgling sounds)”...

✴️      

First watch: I never saw (any) Planet of the apes before, and in spite of my misgivings, gave it a go. 100% anthropomorphic, it couldn’t visualize a universe different from the American mindset of that period. Preachy and very Rod Sterling-like. "It's a madhouse in here”. Pass!

✴️         

The latest Veritasium YouTube video about bowling current technology. Always interesting.

- - - - -

Throw-back to the art project:

Planet of the Apes Adora. 

- - - - -

(My complete movie list is here)

[juliandev0rak]

Into The Wild  

Chapter 5: Honeysuckle

✧ Into The Wild Series ✧ playlist ✧

Words: 3023

At the beginning of the summer Asra and Willa did a tarot reading, just for fun and mostly as an excuse for Willa to show off the cards she’d designed and painted herself. It had been a simple one card pull to symbolize the theme of the summer, and she’d pulled the star— symbolizing hope, faith, and rebirth. She hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now, looking back at the last few weeks of summer, Willa has realized just how correct that prediction was.

She can’t remember the last time she was this happy and excited for the future. The last few years have been hard on her own, and joining the staff of Camp Vesuvia had been a last-ditch effort to fix things, to make something of herself, to find a place to belong. And as her tarot deck had predicted, she’d done all of those things. Though there was no way the cards could have predicted Muriel, or how much Willa has grown to like him in just a few short weeks.

After the movie night, specifically after the cuddling in the dark and goodbye cheek kisses, she’d been afraid he would disappear. But Muriel had kept his promise to be around more, and they’ve spent the last few days almost entirely together. He’s joined her at meals, sat with her every night at the campfire, and even helped her with work. volunteering in the arts and crafts cabin when his own work was slow.

And Willa had been just as eager to see him, she’d even followed him around on a patrol one evening. It should have been scary to be in the forest after dark like that, but she’d never had so much fun in her life holding the flashlight and listening to Muriel tell stories about his work to pass the time. That’s another change, he actually talks to her now. And whether it’s due to her persistent encouragement finally wearing him down or the tentative trust they’ve built up over a few weeks of friendship, Willa is very glad for the change.

In all of the busy days of work and evenings spent sitting close together by the fire, time has moved fast. Only one week remains before the end of the summer. Only one week remains until Willa has to drive back down the mountain and back to whatever remains of her solitary life in the city. She supposes she’ll have to look for a new job, and that she’ll simply have to forget about how wonderful things have been here at Camp Vesuvia.

Willa doesn’t want to think about forgetting Muriel yet, the thought hurts too much to consider though the deadline for accepting it grows ever nearer.

With only seven days left till the end of camp, it’s time for the culminating event of the summer— the annual talent show. It’s all the campers have been able to talk about for days, and most camp activities have been halted to allow them to practice their talents. Willa had been asked to judge, but she decided to leave that job to Asra and Julian. They’ve been bickering all day about the criteria used to find a winner and what “defines talent”. The winners will get prize money, a trophy, and most importantly— the glory of winning Camp Vesuvia’s talent show.

The air is full of excitement, and as Willa enters the amphitheater she can’t help but be swept up in the festive mood. Lucio has been busy with the decorations, he’s got an eye for dramatic decor and somehow managed to turn the outdoor stage into a real theater experience. There are lights strung through the trees, a red curtain creating a backstage area, and he even managed to convince the kitchen staff to bring out the popcorn machine.

As the campers file in, Willa takes her seat in the back, making sure to save the seat next to her for Muriel. When she saw him earlier in the day he’d promised to be there even though “talent shows aren’t his thing”, as he’d told her in no uncertain terms. Nadia takes to the stage to start the show and Willa searches the crowd, not spotting Muriel anywhere. Portia waves Willa over to sit with her and Asra, but she shakes her head. She’ll wait a little longer for him.

The first act goes up, one of the older campers sings a Taylor Swift song. She’s actually really good and Willa gives her a standing ovation when she finishes. The camper gets a ten from Julian and an eight from Asra which causes a squabble between the judges which Nadia has to break up. The judges are almost better entertainment than the show itself, and by the time the second competitor takes the stage Willa’s nearly forgotten the empty seat next to her. But sometime in the middle of the next act Muriel arrives, silently taking the open seat.

“Sorry I’m late,” Muriel says.

Willa scooches over to make more room for him on the bench, giving him a smile in greeting. “I’m glad you made it.”

“What did I miss?”

“The first camper sang a cover of ‘You Belong With Me’, and then Julian and Asra fought over the scores. Someone needs to take those score cards away from them before a physical fight breaks out,” Willa laughs, eyeing the judges warily.

The corner of Muriel’s mouth quirks up in amusement. “Sounds like them.”

The next act features a bunch of card tricks involving audience participation. “Is this your card?” the boy asks, holding up the King of Hearts for another camper to inspect. It turns out that it wasn’t the right card, and the judges give out a measly 5 and 3 as scores.

Willa sneaks a glance at Muriel as the judges deliberate and finds him already looking at her. Instead of looking away they both stare for a minute, only breaking eye contact when applause signals the next act taking the stage. Willa clears her throat, hoping the moment of staring wasn’t as awkward as she fears it was.

“Did you ever compete in a talent show?” Muriel asks, his voice pulling her out of her thoughts. He keeps his volume at a polite whisper so as not to disturb the performance.

“I was homeschooled so I didn't have much of a chance, but my brothers and I would put on our own talent shows,” Willa whispers back. “We used to charge our parents a dollar to watch the show.”

“What was your talent?”

“Singing, I wanted to be on Broadway when I was a kid. As I got older I realized I’m not that great of an actor,” Willa says, smiling at the memory of her younger self tap dancing her way across the barn.

“I think you’d be good at it.” Muriel sounds earnest, as if he really means the compliment.

“Thanks, but I think you’ll have to hear me sing first before you make that judgement,” Willa laughs.

“I’d like to hear you sing.”

Willa blushes at the comment, ducking her chin into her scarf to hide her face. “Maybe someday.”

“But I’m not going to karaoke.”

“That’s ok, it’s a bit much even for me,” she says, trying to keep her tone even as he continues to look directly at her.

A strong breeze moves through the trees around them and Muriel suppresses a shiver, his shoulder bumping hers. Willa wonders again why he doesn't bundle up in more clothing, maybe the cold doesn’t bother him like it bothers her. The thought reminds her of the present she made him and Willa turns to him excitedly.“I brought you something.”

“Huh?”

Willa reaches into her tote bag, digging past her water bottle and various scrunchies and nearly-empty packs of gum. Finally she locates the gift and pulls it out for Muriel to see. “I made you a scarf!’’

“You… made this?” Muriel takes the green knit scarf out of her hands, inspecting the repeating pattern with interest. “Why?”

“I wanted to! It gets cold here at night. I know you have to patrol outside a lot and I thought you might like something to keep you warm.” Willa reaches for the scarf again and he lets her take it. “May I?”

Muriel inclines his head slightly and allows her to wrap the scarf around his neck. When he lifts his head he’s smiling and Willa exhales in relief. He likes it.

The talent show goes on, though Willa and Muriel admittedly don’t pay much attention to it. There are musical acts, dancing, and every sort of talent in between and though Asra and Julian continue to bicker a little, as the night continues they seem to get it together. They manage to at least avoid breaking out the score cards as weapons.

With only a few acts remaining the tensions are high, and the crowd has only gotten louder. Willa looks over at Muriel and notices how uncomfortable he looks at the increased volume and chaos. He seems like he wants to leave, and Willa can’t blame him, it is a bit much. Since she’s not technically on duty tonight, and she wants to spend more time with him, Willa concocts a new plan for the evening.

“Would you like to go get some cocoa? The kitchen should still be open,” she suggests.

Muriel looks up, eyes wide in relief. “That’d be nice.”

“Let’s go then! I need a snack.” Willa grabs his hand on the pretense of pulling him up from his seat, but he doesn’t pull his hand away once he’s up. As they leave the amphitheater his fingers weave through hers and he holds her hand more tightly.

“Are we allowed to be in here this late?” Muriel asks as they enter the kitchen building. It’s warm and brightly lit, a nice reprieve from the dark path they’d had to navigate to walk here.

Willa crosses over to the cabinet where mugs are stored, reaching up on her tiptoes to grab two mugs. “Wellll… not technically, but I’m friends with the kitchen staff so it’s fine!”

“I don’t want you to get in trouble.” Muriel stands by the door, uncertainty clouding his expression.

“Muriel it’s fine, I promise. Come here and help me measure the cocoa,” she beckons him over, holding a spoon out for him to take. They make their cocoa, stirring warm milk and chocolate powder together until it's smooth.

Willa holds her mug up to her nose, inhaling the chocolate scent. “Do you want marshmallows?”

“Only if they aren’t burnt to a crisp. Maybe I should handle them,” Muriel laughs, and Willa turns to him with a surprised grin.

“Wait, was that a joke?”

“I can be funny.” He plops two marshmallows into his mug and puts three in Willa’s.

“Thanks.” Willa holds her mug up, clinking it against Muriel’s in cheers.

They sip their cocoa in silence, enjoying the quiet after a night of too much noise. Out of the corner of her eyes Willa notices Muriel watching her and she wonders if he’ll say something or if she should first. He beats her to it, setting his mug down on the counter before he turns to face her more fully.

“What will you do after this summer?” he asks.

Of course he would bring up the one topic she most wants to avoid. “I’m not quite sure, I guess I’ll move back to the city and start looking for another job,” Willa sighs. 

“So you’re leaving.”

Willa takes a sip of her cocoa, trying to decipher his tone as she thinks of a response. He sounds almost sad, and she can’t imagine it’s on her behalf. “I think I have to, I can’t stay here with no campers around, I wouldn’t have a job.”

Muriel’s hair falls into his face, leaving half of it in shadow, but Willa can still see him frown. “Why are you spending time with me, why aren’t you out there with your friends?”

“You are my friend and I like spending time with you, I like you,” she says. “We’ve been over this.”

“Why do you give me things? I don’t ever give you anything in return,” Muriel looks frustrated now and Willa fights the urge to reach out and take his hand. She gives him his space, keeping her hands firmly planted on her mug.

“You give me plenty, Muriel. I know this will sound cheesy but your friendship is a gift, being around you is the best part of my day,” Willa explains. “You don’t have to give me anything.”

Muriel still looks frustrated and confused, and Willa sighs in defeat. She’s leaving in a week, it’s now or never. If Muriel isn’t getting the picture she’ll just have to draw him a new one. Though part of her wants to just bury these emotions and not risk ruining things, she's never been one to shy away from her feelings. Even if he doesn’t feel the same way as her it’s only fair that he knows how she feels.

Before she can overthink it any more Willa blurts out, “The truth is Muriel, I like you.”

He tilts his head to the side in confusion. “You already said that?”

“No, I like you, as in romantically,” Willa pauses. Muriel stares at her blankly as if he doesn’t understand her words, but now that she’s started talking it’s hard to stop.

“I’ve liked you for weeks now, actually, ever since that night when you taught me how to roast marshmallows. And I know summer’s ending soon so I feel like I have to tell you now or I’ll never get a chance and I know I’ll regret it forever if I don’t. I don’t want to be an old lady still thinking about that crush I had in my twenties that went nowhere because I was too afraid to tell him so uh, here I am telling you…” Willa trails off, wondering if Muriel might need medical attention, he looks very pale.

“You like me?” he repeats.

“I do,” Willa nods.

Muriel continues to stare at her in silence and Willa doesn’t know what to say. Finally, the tension breaks and Muriel grabs his jacket off of the coat rack by the door. “I should go.” Before she can process what he’s said Muriel opens the door, practically running outside.

“Muriel, wait!” Willa stands in the doorway calling after him, but he doesn't turn. She briefly considers going after him but that might only make things worse.

Instead, she takes a seat on the doorstep, feeling like she wants to disappear into the dirt. For a second, tears well up behind her eyes but she blinks them away, feeling silly for caring so much. He’d run away. She’d told him she liked him and he’d left, there could be no clearer sign of rejection.

“Well, that went well didn’t it,” Willa mutters sarcastically, using her sleeve to wipe at her damp eyes. “I need to go clean something.”

She heads back into the kitchen, trying to ignore the well of emotions she feels as she washes the mug Muriel had been holding only minutes ago. She watches the cocoa wash down the drain, feeling like her own life might be headed in that direction. 

Her tarot reading from the beginning of the summer feels like a sick joke now, she should’ve pulled the tower instead, that would be a more accurate depiction of the summer. At least she’s leaving soon, Muriel won’t have to worry about bumping into her anymore. And she won’t have to see him, she won’t have to walk around camp being reminded of him and how she’d ruined things.

After a few minutes of listlessly scrubbing already clean kitchen counters, Willa takes a seat on the doorstep again. The sudden sound of footsteps approaching startles her and she turns towards the path, wondering if perhaps Muriel has come back after all. She’s surprised, and a little disappointed, to find Nadia instead.

The camp director gives her a soft smile in greeting and gestures to the step, “Is there room for one more?”

“Of course.” Willa scoots over to make room for her.

Nadia looks at Willa with a raised eyebrow, taking in her tear-stained face and red eyes. “I saw Muriel on the way here, he looked quite disturbed.”

“That’s my fault, I scared him off.”  Willa fiddles with the edges of her scarf as she speaks, picking at a loose thread.

“I’ve known Muriel for many years now, and while he is a very capable, kind person he does not always know how to react to people. Especially not pretty girls,” Nadia smiles, nudging Willa with her shoulder. 

Willa tries to laugh, though the sound comes out as more of a weak sniffle. “How did you know I liked him?”

Nadia laughs, “Oh Willa, the whole camp knows.”

“Of course they do,” Willa shakes her head in dismay. “Well clearly Muriel doesn’t feel the same way, he ran away from me after I told him.”

“As I said, he doesn’t always know how to react. Give him some space, give him some time,” Nadia counsels. Willa would normally agree but she has no more time, she can’t be patient.

“I’m out of time, Nadia. Camp is over in a week,” Willa frowns. “And I think it’s pretty clear that he doesn’t like me.”

“He likes you,” Nadia states, her tone the no-nonsense matter of fact one she uses when directing campers. “I’m certain of that.”

Willa stares down at the dirt, wondering how Nadia could possibly be certain of that. “Even if he does like me there’s no point, it doesn’t matter if I'm leaving.”

“Where’s that eternal optimist who stepped into my office at the beginning of the summer?” Nadia asks, putting a comforting hand on Willa’s shoulder to draw her attention. “Would it change anything if I told you that you don’t have to leave Camp Vesuvia?”

“What?”

“Would you like to stay?”

✧

[brockadoodles]

the 1 - t. jost

AN: Y’all wanted the folklore stuff back so, even though I never finished the series (i will, eventually), here’s one to start you off with :) 

Word Count: 2325

Warnings: None. 

But we were something don’t you think so? Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool And if my wishes came true It would’ve been you

You grew up in the house across the street from Tyson Jost, and for years he was always just the goofy kid who you would sometimes play street hockey with after school. You would make fun of his unruly brown curls, and he would in turn tell you that your goaltending skills were terrible. As you both got older, your friendship grew. You found yourselves sneaking into each other's rooms late at night, staying up talking about anything and everything with each other. 

When you were 16, you shared an incredibly awkward first kiss. That kiss shortly became more kisses with each other. The kisses progressed into more firsts as you grew to realize that the goofy kid from across the street had become the most important person in your life. An epiphany that your families were not surprised about. 

You slowly became even more inseparable than you already were, forming an attachment to one and other that most young teenagers feel when they think they’re in love. You spent weekends going to Tyson’s hockey games, wearing his jersey proudly; he spent weekdays after practices with you, content smiles almost always on both of your faces as you lounged around each other. 

The thing about your first love is that it's an idea that is built up all around us, whether it’s in a coming of age film or a melodic song whose lyrics seem to fit so perfectly with your own story, or whether it’s the experience of someone around you. You grow up thinking about how one day you’re going to find the perfect person to share life with, and it doesn’t matter what anyone says otherwise. You grow up hearing that your first love will be wild, and crazy, and intense, but you’re taught to enjoy it while it lasts because it never does. You and Tyson were naive to think that you would be the exception.

“I love you.” You blurted out, eyes widening in shock at your admission. Your heart beating loudly in your chest, the words hanging loosely in the air as you waited for Tyson to reply. You were surprised as the three words left your mouth but you also thought that you knew how you felt, and there was something relieving about telling him. The weight of it was becoming too much, and maybe if Tyson wasn’t there yet, that would be okay. 

“You do?” He looked at you, searching your eyes for any sense of regret over the three heavy words. When he didn’t find any, he pulled you close. Tyson wrapped his arms around you securely, instantly calming your nerves. He looked at you for a moment, wondering how he could feel so much for someone else, not truly understanding the implications of his feelings.  

“I love you, too.” He sincerely spoke, leaning in to kiss you softly. 

He didn’t understand at the time that when you’re seventeen, the intensity you feel for someone isn’t usually built for longevity. Perhaps if either of you understood the evanescence of a first love, the three words wouldn’t have been spoken at all. 

-------

 The streets of downtown St. Albert were covered in a thick blanket of snow, white twinkly lights on the various trees, a glistening contrast to the dark wintery sky. You hadn’t been back for Christmas in two years. When you moved to Vancouver for a fresh start after the breakup, your parents always came to you for the holidays, making the argument that spending them in rainy Vancouver was a lot better than snowy St. Albert. You knew that it wasn’t the lack of snow, but it was them trying to spare you from reliving the last Christmas that you hadn’t been able to shake.

“I think it’s just time.” Tyson smiled sadly at you, feeling his own heart break as he spoke. 

Your eyes glassed over as you nodded in agreement. You felt like you were frantically trying to save your heart before it dropped to the floor, shattered and ruined. You knew that he was right, the distance simply not working anymore, no matter how hard you both wanted it to. 

He reached out, his thumb grazing over your cheek to wipe the tears that were now falling. The two of you sitting there in silence, as you both desperately tried to put off the finality of the conversation as long as possible. Knowing you were losing Tyson was like trying to save yourself from drowning, each gasping breath pulling your further and further down beneath the surface. 

“I wish it was different.” He whispered, wiping his own eyes as he watched you turn to leave. Fresh snow falling around the two of you as you stood on his balcony, Christmas lights being the only source of light around you. 

“Me too.” You nodded in agreement, taking one final look at him before turning back inside, making your way out of the house like you had done so many times before, this time only to most likely never come back. 

-------

You glanced at the bakery, seeing the lights in the back illuminated, a couple of employees working on what you could only assume were tomorrow’s pastries. You made note how everything looked just the same, as if no time had passed at all. A realization of just how homesick you had been the last few years while you’d been away.

For a long time you avoided St. Albert, the memories burning a hole softly in your heart, and the thought of coming back filled the hole with uneasiness at the idea of being somewhere that had so many memories of someone who meant so much for a time. You were now years removed from the breakup and you finally felt a new perspective. You were able to think of home without feeling melancholic about Tyson. When you truly allowed yourself to think about it, you missed Christmas in St. Albert. It was home, and that was exactly what you needed now. 

You continued walking down the street, carefully stepping to avoid the slick patches in the sidewalk. You shivered a bit and rubbed your gloved hands together, pulling your arms closer to your body, spotting the general store just a few feet ahead. You walked into the store, instantly feeling the warmth from the heaters on your face. You looked around, heading straight to the wine aisle to pick up what your mom had asked you to get for Christmas Eve. 

You found your way through the aisles with ease, everything in the same spots they had been in the last time you were there. A wave of nostalgia passed through you as you made your way through the store. You thought back to the summers you and Tyson spent together, always coming to the general store for what he called “the absolute lake day essential pack” each time you planned on going out to the lake. 

You smiled to yourself as you passed by the various snacks and drinks. Tyson invading your thoughts once more.  

“Tyson, we’re going to be gone for a few hours. I think you might be overdoing it.” You laughed as he tossed item after item into the shopping cart.

“I am truly offended. Babe, this is the absolute lake day essential pack. No item can be forgotten.” He wrapped an arm around you and placed a sloppy kiss to your cheek. 

The lake day essential pack became a tradition for every lake trip, even though you never actually finished everything that you bought. Instead, spending most of the day in the water, laughing with each other.      

-------

You didn’t know that he was back in town, the two of you losing touch years ago. Your thoughts used to be consumed with how it would feel to see him again. By all definitions of the term, Tyson was your first love. The kind of fleeting, youthful, wreckless, wild love that you grasped onto for as long as you could. There was a time when you thought he was the one, that all of the obstacles you would have to face to be together would work out in the end. You spent those years imagining what it would be like to marry him, picturing how you’d feel walking down the aisle, seeing him there. 

“Do you think it’ll be this beautiful when we get married?” Tyson squeezed your hand, looking at you softly. You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach, looking toward the archway where in just a few moments your cousin would be getting married. White lilies and pastel pink dahlias framing the light stained wooden archway. 

You looked into his eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity in them. His hand holding yours firmly. You didn’t get the chance to answer his question, instead hearing the beginnings of the wedding march. As you watched your cousin walk down the aisle, you couldn’t help but make subtle glances at the groom. He was watching your cousin, eyes watering as he took in her beauty. You subconsciously leaned into Tyson more and he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. You didn’t know how to describe the feeling, but you knew that one day that would be him up there, waiting for you. 

--------

You walked out of the general store and braced yourself for the cold once more, reasoning with yourself that it was only a few blocks to your parents house and once you were there you could spend the rest of the evening watching old Christmas movies and sipping on the extra wine you just bought. 

You started making your way back down the path you came in from, taking in your surroundings as you passed by the various shops. You rounded the corner, passing by the old diner. You thought back to all of the times you and Tyson would be found there, late at night in the same corner booth you always sat in, the faux leather seats probably even more frayed with holes than they were all those years ago.

“Who’s going to come sit in this ugly booth with me now that you’re leaving?” You asked, feeling the weight of Tyson leaving the following day for his first training camp in Colorado. You were incredibly proud of him for accomplishing his dream, but that didn’t stop the worries of what the future would hold for the two of you now that the reality of it all was setting in. 

Tyson smiled sadly at you, wishing he could stop the hurt that he was causing. His whole life he had dreamed of playing in the NHL, spending years training and practicing. He didn’t expect to be sad about leaving St. Albert, until he fell in love with you. 

“It’s not forever, I’ll be back for Christmas.” He said, feeling certain in that moment that his words were true, that he would be back for Christmas with you. If only he knew that the next time he was home, your relationship would have fallen apart in just a matter of months, the young love forced to confront the truth that what you had wasn’t going to be the same after this moment. 

---------

You could see him clearly, standing outside the diner the two of you once called “your place.” He was laughing wholeheartedly at what the beautiful girl he was with was saying, his arm wrapped loosely around her as they talked. Time felt like it was slowing down, and you were stuck in a moment, feeling something about your relationship with him that you didn’t realize you needed. You felt an eerie sense of calm, knowing that he was happy. That was all you ever wanted for him, and while it used to hurt knowing it wouldn’t be with you, you were looking at him and the past so clearly. Tyson wasn’t meant to be your forever, and that was okay. He was a memory, a moment in time, that you could look back on adoringly. 

You had been living in Vancouver for just under a year, finally finding a core group of friends and settling into your new life. The wounds from your breakup still felt fresh, and you knew Tyson was out in Colorado, having adventures on his own. 

You desperately wanted to move on, find your own place in the world without waking up everyday, mind racing with thoughts of him. Your friends tried to help you move on, even going as far as to set you up with various other boys. You went on a few dates here and there, never feeling like you could fully open up to someone the way you had with Tyson.

You compared every boy you ever met to Tyson, he was a country away but he still had a grasp on your heart that you didn’t know how to get back. You often wondered if he thought of you still. Maybe if you knew that he did, and if one of you made an attempt at reconciliation, things would turn out dramatically different for you both. 

Tyson turned, spotting you from where he was standing. He smiled, nodding slightly at you before turning back to the woman he was with. His expression was comforting, familiar and kind. You knew in that moment he experienced the same feelings you just had, recognizing the slight realization he had as he looked at you briefly. You were strangers who happened to love a past version of each other. 

But that’s the thing about a first love right? The transitory feeling, ignoring just how naive you were to think it would last. If one thing had been different, things might have been different today. It could have been you by his side. 

[mittensmorgul]

Note-taking anon again! :D

I am absolutely enjoying the show. It's a bit of a long winded story as to how i finally took the plunge: i knew spn existed, and at some point in 2019 i saw on tumblr that 15 was going to be its last season. Out of respect for the trailblazing it had done in fandom space, i resolved to check-in on the fandom every time it trended.

So, i sort of experienced s15 in a very filtered way. I was there for 'you asked what about this is real? We are' and experienced all of the freakouts, despite not knowing the context. I saw the trap's prayer scene and went ohshit is the fandom okay? Are people okay? The answer was no but people usually weren't okay ahah 😂

And i honestly forgot about the show bc it hadnt trended in so long, and then November 5th happened. And i went to check in on the fandom. And they were Not okay in the best way possible.

I resolved to actually watch the show bc i needed to know how we got there. After years of fan support for destiel i was like i have to know the truth.

Spn is not a show i would normally turn to. I'm not a horror fan--ive never seen a horror movie. This is the only horror i've ever watched. I'm also not in the target audience. But it was such a Concept that i just had to.

And its been so much fun.

Ive spent hours watching and meticulously notetaking. I dont think i'd've enjoyed the show as much if i wasn't doing my notes. It makes me pay attention to all the layers and nuance--intentional or otherwise. Spn loves to introduce a concept and then disappear into the night saying 'now we dont have time to unpack all of that' while im sat there reeling in the implications.

I originally wanted to watch for cas, but i found myself invested in sam and dean as well. I figured the first 3 seasons were going to be the hardest for me as there was no cas, but they were able to explore some fascinating smaller stories. Some personal favourites would be Hellhouse, Heart, Roadkill, What is and What should Never be, and Dream a little Dream of me. Sam and dean are compelling characters, and if you skip those seasons you really miss out on what makes them, them.

As well, ive fully accepted that the finale is not canon so i'm also able to enjoy the show that way too. I actually took notes on november 19th, watching the finale live, despite not knowing what was going on, and now that ive seen half the show, its kind of crazy to look back on.

Anyway, this is getting long!

I think i am grateful to have all of the context in place for me. It is significantly less stressful to know the entire time. It also gives validation for reading scenes in certain ways. (Not that validation is required, but it is nice) I don't think i would have been able to handle the bereavement from everywhere for simply perceiving what is clearly being told in the text. Now that ive seen half the show, i have a huge amount of respect for everyone who endured the journey.

OH gosh, I’m really happy for you! 

And thank you for watching the first three seasons! I hear of a lot of people who started at 4.01 because they were most interested in Cas as a character, and I think later seasons lose so much by not having seen the first three seasons of Sam and especially Dean’s growth up to that point.

I have to laugh at the notion of watching the series finale without having seen any of the show and feeling like you didn’t know what was going on, because lol I’ve been watching for a decade and *I* had no idea what was going on. So at least you were in the same headspace as we were for that one. :’D

I hope you continue enjoying it, and sharing your notes occasionally. :)

[letterboxd]

Bridging the Gap.

Filmmaker So Yun Um highlights ten underrated Asian American and Pacific Islander films set against the backdrop of America.

Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month has many film lovers seeking to celebrate Asian American cinema. Beyond Minari, Always Be My Maybe and Crazy Rich Asians, there are dozens of films that depict the Asian American experience. In choosing to focus on ten of the lesser-seen, I contemplated the notion of what defines AAPI cinema.

For me, it goes deeper than films that have been directed by, or star, Asian American and Pacific artists. Having watched a wide selection of Asian American films, I can firmly say our cinema, no matter the genre, puts Asian Americans at the forefront on both sides of the camera. I believe the essence of Asian American cinema was born out of resourcefulness, mining themes and ideas that distinctly bridge the gap between Asian and American culture. These films tell stories that explore the vast differences between the two, and the ways in which they coexist, whether comfortably or uncomfortably.

In selecting these ten underrated AAPI films, I searched deep to find stories with uncompromising vision and character; stories about Asians that could only be told within, and against the backdrop of, America. These ten films highlight intimate, distinct and unfiltered experiences mostly unseen at our local multiplexes: family and cultural obligations, generational and cultural gaps, and raw, mostly obscured views of American life.

Chan is Missing (1982) Directed by Wayne Wang, written by Isaac Cronin and Wayne Wang

There would be no Asian American independent cinema without Wayne Wang’s Chan is Missing. Shot on black-and-white film, this striking noir follows Jo, a San Franciscan cab driver, and his nephew, Steve, as they track down the titular Chan after he disappears with their money. Wang’s unpredictable directing career spans neighborhood intrigues, rom-coms and family movies; alongside which, he has kept a strong focus on Asian American stories (he helmed the adaptation of Amy Tan’s generational bestseller, The Joy Luck Club).

In Chan is Missing, for the first time on screen, we get to finally see an “ABC” (American-Born Chinese) story from the source, with an all-access pass to the often misunderstood terrain and people of Chinatown. It’s the tightness of the plot and the authenticity of its characters that make this movie such a classic. Even after 40 years, Chan Is Missing doesn’t feel dated—its laugh-out-loud dialogue (they actually utter the word “FOB”!) and moody tone capture why Chinatown continues to be an enigma. Spoilers: Chinatown runs by its own rules.

Available on DVD via Indiepix Films.

Better Luck Tomorrow (2002) Directed by Justin Lin, written by Ernesto Foronda, Justin Lin and Fabian Marquez

Justin Lin’s directorial debut film is a visionary portrait of Asian Americans that’s still relevant two decades on. Since its release in the early aughts, there has yet to be a film that explores the nuances and complexities of the average Southern-California Asian American teen like this film does. Better Luck Tomorrow focuses on a group of Asian American overachievers who become bored with their lives and enter a world of petty crime. It’s loosely based on four Sunny Hills High School students and the real-life murder of Stuart Tay, a teenager from the OC.

With its depiction of overachieving A+ students who are also foul-mouthed, drug-taking kids, this film was the launching pad for many iconic Asian American actors today—Sung Kang from the Fast and Furious franchise, John Cho (Star Trek) and my personal favorite, Jason Tobin, star of the Warrior TV series. (It’s entertaining to see the seeds of the Fast and Furious series planted in this film in the character of Han, played by Sung Kang, before the explosion of the franchise: one of the characters mutters, “Rumors about us came and went fast and furious”—and the rest is history.)

Better Luck Tomorrow still stands as the most iconic film to capture the suburban Asian American teen existence in all its good, bad and ugly light. “I was part of a movement,” Tobin recalled in this GQ oral history of the film, “and it was a culmination of all the battles I had fought before that to get Asian faces on the big screen.”

Available to stream and rent on multiple platforms.

The Grace Lee Project (2005) Directed by Grace Lee

If you’re an Asian American who grew up in California or New York, chances are, you know at least two Grace Lees in your life. But growing up in Missouri, Korean American filmmaker Grace Lee was the only one she knew with her name. She soon discovers that with the name comes a certain stereotype, that of the “good” Asian—quiet, well-behaved and a hard worker. Lee goes on a quest to interview a wide range of women who have the same name and soon discover if this wildly common stereotype is true.

Lee’s witty, autobiographical documentary is effortlessly funny and insightful. The Grace Lee Project dives deep into identity politics to reveal that sometimes, a name is simply a name. This was the start of Grace Lee’s journey as a filmmaker and she continues to be an important voice in not just the documentary space but in narrative stories as well.

Streaming on Kanopy.

Saving Face (2004) Written and directed by Alice Wu

Alice Wu’s Saving Face is a timeless queer love story. Produced by none other than Will Smith (yes, that Will Smith), Saving Face follows a Chinese American lesbian woman and her traditional mother (played by Michelle Krusiec and Joan Chen, respectively) as both battle with their reluctance to go against cultural expectations and reveal their secret loves. It’s part family drama, part rom-com, exploring expectations specific to Asian women across generations.

While most Asian American films focus on familial obligations through the point of view of the children of immigrants, Wu’s film considers the conflicts of both daughter and mother. For Asian Americans, it’s a tale as old as time but with a twist that shows that no matter how old you get, you still have to, unfortunately, fight to be who you are. I also highly recommend Wu’s spiritual sequel, The Half of It, on Netflix.

Streaming on Amazon Prime and Tubi, and for rent on various VOD platforms.

In Between Days (‘방황의 날들’, 2007) Directed by So Yong Kim, written by Bradley Rust Gray and So Yong Kim

So Yong Kim’s debut feature, In Between Days, follows Jiseon Kim, a Korean teen immigrant, who falls in love with her best friend while navigating the challenges of living in a new country. Director Kim is a masterful storyteller and captures life as it should be seen: unfiltered and trivial at times, but using the mundane to find cinematic magic.

I like to categorize So Yong Kim’s work as a showcase of extreme intimacy. Her story features painfully delicate characters and moments so real, you’ll wonder how any of these scenes could be fiction. There’s a sense of vulnerability and loneliness that fills the air as Jiseon struggles to assimilate to a new country, replete with toxic relationships, self-sabotage and unrelenting jealousy. So Yong Kim’s work is so painfully real, it hurts to watch.

Available on Kanopy and Amazon.

Ping Pong Playa (2007) Directed by Jessica Yu, written by Jimmy Tsai and Jessica Yu

There are two things that embody countless Asian American men’s experience: their love for basketball, and their love of rap music. Ping Pong Playa covers both, and is exactly the kind of Asian American comedy I’ve been waiting for! Christopher “C-Dub” Wang (played by co-writer Jimmy Tsai) is a wannabe baller and a supreme slacker who has to step up to the plate when his family’s business and ping-pong-champion reputation is on the line. In addition to being centered around an Asian family, the core of the film rivals any other low-brow, underdog sport film.

Laugh-out-loud hilarious, this is Academy-Award-winning filmmaker Jessica Yu’s first narrative feature, following a groundbreaking career full of daring documentaries (her Oscar was for this portrait of writer Mark O’Brien, who spent much of his life in an iron lung). Seeing C-Dub as an NBA-loving slacker turned ping-pong playa felt validating; it showed that even if you’re a lazy and immature Asian, you can always find something to succeed at.

Streaming on Tubi, and for rent on Amazon and iTunes.

In Football We Trust (2015) Directed by Tony Vainuku and Erika Cohn

While Salt Lake City, Utah, is seen as predominantly a white Mormon town, it in fact has the largest population of Pacific Islanders in the US mainland, due to the strength of the The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints’ proselytizing in the Pacific. The documentary In Football We Trust follows four Polynesian high-school students, as they chase their lifelong dream of attaining professional recruitment. Told in moments of adolescence, the film follows the greatest challenges for these four young men, as they chase their dreams while trying to grow up.

In no time, they’re faced with the harsh reality that just maybe, football isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. As much as their hefty attributes and builds serve as their greatest advantages, these boys’ cultural and familial obligations become both their greatest motivations and, possibly, their downfall. Filmed over the span of four years, first time filmmakers Tony Vainuku and Erika Cohn chronicle the NFL hopefuls as they navigate the pressure to balance dreams and family to win a golden ticket out of gang violence and poverty.

Streaming on Kanopy, and for rent on various VOD platforms.

Spa Night (2016) Written and directed by Andrew Ahn

In his directorial debut, Andrew Ahn perfectly captures a specific corner of Los Angeles’ Koreatown. Spa Night’s focus is David, a closeted Korean American teenager who takes a job at a Korean spa to help his struggling family, and then discovers an underground world of gay sex. You may recognize Joe Seo as the goofy bully in the Netflix hit show Cobra Kai, but it’s Spa Night where you can see him truly shine—he won Sundance’s US Dramatic Special Jury Award for Breakthrough Performance.

Seo delivers a powerfully restrained performance, exploring the burden of hiding your true self from your family. Spa Night is more than a coming out story, it’s also about the broken American dream that so many immigrants experience. Ahn’s direction is finely tuned, honing in on the specificity of Koreatown. It is an acutely queer story of second-gen Asian Americans, where coming out is never really about just you, but also your family.

Streaming on Kanopy, and for rent on various VOD platforms.

Punching at the Sun (2006) Directed by Tanuj Chopra, written by Tanuj Chopra and Hart Eddy

Mameet is young, angry and has always lived in the shadow of his basketball-legend brother, Sanjay. When Sanjay is suddenly killed during a robbery at the family store, Mameet spirals and takes his anger out on anyone and everyone. Coping with loss at a young age is hard enough, but Punching at the Sun mixes in the specific anxieties of being a South-Asian man amidst the backdrop of post-9/11 America. In doing so, the film addresses the difficulty of juggling teenage angst and immigrant identity—Mameet is not afforded the option to express his anger and grief.

Cathartic and emotionally validating, this is a simple yet nuanced slice-of-life story that conveys the heaviness of growing up with the weight of the world on our shoulders. In Mameet’s case, thank goodness, he ultimately shares some of that burden with his comical friends and knit-tight family.

Available to rent on Vimeo.

Meet the Patels (2014) Directed by Ravi Patel and Geeta Patel, written by Ravi Patel, Matthew Hamachek, Billy McMillin, and Geeta Patel

In the romantic documentary Meet the Patels, Ravi Patel is a dutiful first-gen son whose parents are continually nagging him to marry a nice Indian girl. With Ravi's sister Geeta Patel co-directing and co-writing, and his parents in the frame, his film (and true-life story) are indeed a family affair. What starts as his journey to find a wife to make his family happy becomes an enlightening intro to Indian culture and modern love—think dating apps, weddings and a Patel Matrimonial Convention (gotta see it to believe).

Humorous as it is outrageously charming, Meet the Patels ultimately shows the struggles and cultural expectations most immigrant offspring face, on top of the million other obstacles of trying to find your one and only true love in this mad, mad world.

Streaming on various platforms.

Related content

Ten Underrated Asian American & Pacific Islander Films, a Letterboxd list

Best Asian American Films: So Yun Um’s list

Debbie Chang’s comprehensive Asian American film canon list (also features Asian-Canadian, Asian-British and other diaspora)

Bellamy’s list of feature-length films directed by Asian Americans

Follow So on Letterboxd

[randomfandominserts]

urs by NIKI - Oikawa Tooru x Reader

Playlist Series: Link

Urs by NIKI

Lyrics: “Trynna find where your head is, but I’m losing myself in the process

  You’re bad for my health, all the good nights

  Are they hidden goodbyes in disguise? I never know

  You come see me only when I ask first

  When you kiss me, do you wish it were her? 

  The best at being the worst

  But fuck’s sake, I’m already yours.”

Warnings: Mentions of sex, language, angst, idk

Word Count:  3.2k

.

.

Saturday

Oikawa Tooru was beautiful. His hair was mussed from the relentless tugging you had just exposed it to, his face slightly flushed. It took all of your willpower to tear your gaze from his face when he turned back to look at you. You knew he’d be weirded out, you couldn’t stare at him like you were in love. That’s not what this was supposed to be. 

He finished tugging on his shirt and held out a hand to you. No - not a hand. It was just your top. “Here,” he said, dropping it on your lap when you didn’t reach out fast enough. “I have to go to practice in an hour, and I wanted to grab something to eat first.” You pulled your shirt over your head at an agonizingly slow pace. He was kicking you out, of course he was. But you wanted to savor the moment, the sight of him slightly disheveled and the smell of him and the close proximity and- “Thanks for coming over though, (Y/N).” He gave you that smile - it was faked and forced but God, you loved his smile - before stepping away from the bed you were still seated on.

“No problem.” You stood, finally, and moved to pick up your bag and keys. “You don’t usually practice on the weekends. Do you have a game next week?” He shrugged, too consumed with sorting through his volleyball bag to pay any more attention to you. 

“A couple practice matches, and a game on Friday.” 

“Right.” He was done with you. “I’ll head out now. Have a good time at practice. Say ‘hi’ to Iwa for me?” 

“Sure, sure.” He waved you goodbye - or maybe he was waving you away. Whichever, you shot him one last smile - not that he was looking at you to see it - and headed out. 

It hadn’t always been like this between you two, at least not in private. You used to be friends, and you would talk and laugh and spend time together like any other pair of pals. Somewhere along the way, you both decided to try being friends with benefits. That’s what ruined it for you. Suddenly Oikawa was detached unless you were fucking, and you were so incredibly attached that it was embarrassing. No one noticed much of a change, because with your friends you were mostly still the bubbly, goofy pair that you had always been. But getting to see the Oikawa you loved when you were alone was limited to the times you were being intimate. 

Sunday

It was an incredibly boring afternoon. You were already finished with all of your homework and wanted nothing more than to relax with a couple of friends. Unfortunately for you, most of your usual Sunday squad had already said they were busy. You were left with one option, one that wasn’t unwelcome but was awkward all the same. It had been ages since you and Oikawa had spent time together that wasn’t for, well, pleasure purposes, so you weren’t sure how the invite would go over, but you decided to give it a try despite that. 

~Tooruuuu

There was no immediate response. Not even a semi-quick one, not like usual. Hmm. Maybe he hadn’t seen it? You decided to send another text, just in case. 

~I’m bored

~Wanna have a movie day? I have snacks and Netflix :))

It was read immediately but was left unresponded to for about 5 minutes. 

~busy today, sorry :(

~Oh, okay </3 Have fun! 

~u too

Had he always been such a slow, dry texter? You sighed and tossed your phone aside. Guess it would be a solo movie night tonight. 

Monday

Everyone was laughing, but you simply bit into your sandwich without glancing at the storyteller. Oikawa was retelling the story of how he met some girl Saturday night after practice. “She was beautiful, and I made a fool of myself!” he whined, while the surrounding third years jeered and laughed and teased. You weren’t in the mood for all that. You didn’t care that he got her number or that she was “the prettiest girl” he’s ever seen (and yes, that is a direct quote). You didn’t care that she was texting him right at that moment, or that she apparently went to Aoba Johsai with you guys. You especially didn’t care about how much fun they had yesterday at the park while you were alone in your room, or how she was smart and beautiful and perfect. You simply did not care in the slightest.

You felt a nudge in your ribs, and you glanced over to see Iwaizumi looking at you. “You good?” he asked quietly. How considerate of him, to quietly get in your business rather than let the whole table in on it. He didn’t know about the friends with benefits situation, why would he? So you sighed and shrugged, averting your attention back to your sandwich. 

“Don’t really care about Tooru’s hot date, is all.” Luckily for you, Iwa didn’t press the matter. He let out a small hum, a minute sign of understanding, before turning back to the laughing group around you. He probably had some suspicions. Maybe you’d text him about it later, maybe call to explain your sour mood, but for now, you were happy to let it be. Now wasn’t the time to tell him about you and Oikawa’s arrangement. 

Later that night, you sat alone in your room. You were bored and lonely and, despite all the qualms you held about it, you missed Oikawa dearly. It took only a couple of seconds to glance at your phone and realize practice was probably over, so you pushed aside your pride and opened up your messaging app.

~Hey

~Practice over? :)

And you waited. You waited and waited and waited until finally, 1 hour and 37 minutes later, you got a response. 

~yeah

~what’s up?

~Wanna come over? Home alone and I’m bored ;p

It was almost ridiculous how quickly you texted back, especially since he took another 23 minutes to send his simple response.

~ok

~be over in 15

He took 26 minutes to get to your house, not 15, but at least he came. The time was spent as it usually was, with him peppering your skin with little kisses and him singing your praises while you melted like putty in his hands. It felt intimate and wonderful, but it also felt like only a moment, and you found yourself watching Oikawa pull on his clothes much too soon. You stayed planted on your bed, wanting nothing more than to curl up under your fluffy comforter with Oikawa by your side. 

“Something wrong?” He was calling out to you from across the room, having noticed your frozen state. Of course he had noticed, he was one of the most perceptive people you knew. But you didn’t give in and only shook your head in response. 

“No, just sleepy. You really know how to tire me out, huh?” You tried to smile and laugh, you tried to mask the lies. You knew he could see right through it, but he didn’t say anything else. Instead, he glanced down at his phone which had just given a little ‘beep.’ The corners of his lips twitched upwards as he tapped away at the screen. Immediately. “Who’s that?” 

“You know the girl I met the other night? She invited me and the guys to this bakery she knows, as a late-night snack.” He was smiling fully now, completely occupied by the texts that were pouring in. Beep, beep, beep. It took a moment before he finally put it down and looked back at you. “I’m sure you can come too. If you want.” 

“No, that’s okay. I’m tired, remember? I’m probably going to go to sleep.”

“Okay. Good, I’m gonna go then.” He tugged on his jacket and laced up his shoes. “Bye!”

“Goodnight,” you said weakly. Reluctantly. 

“Yeah, goodnight.” It sounded so forced, but you didn’t bring it up. You simply curled under your blankets and waited until you heard your front door slam before falling asleep. 

Tuesday

“Here.” Iwaizumi placed a small wrapped pastry in your outstretched hands. It was warm, like it had just been heated up, and it smelled lovely. It was early in the morning, just before classes were to start, and you hadn’t eaten yet. Iwaizumi was basically your savior.

“Thanks, Hajime.” You unwrapped the treat, eager to see what was inside. It was a small blueberry scone, which made you smile. “You didn’t bake, did you?” You faked disbelief, shaking your head with a laugh. “What if you poisoned it?” 

“I got it from a bakery last night, idiot.” He tapped you on the shoulder, friendly and gentle, but hearing where he got it immediately caused a shift in your attitude.  

“With Oikawa?” Iwaizumi was hesitant to answer, as he was hyperaware of the shift that had just occurred. 

“...Yeah.” No longer in the mood to joke around, you simply lifted the treat to your lips and ate it in small nibbles. It was, unfortunately, delicious. You didn’t want to give this mysterious girl any credit but damn did she know a good bakery. “What’s going on with you two?” You shrugged, using the scone as an excuse to keep from speaking, but Iwa was too smart for his own good. He saw what you were doing and took back the pastry he had just gifted you. You gave him a small sigh.

“Nothing’s going on with us. Not really.” Iwaizumi was giving you a look that told you he didn’t believe you for 1 second. You sighed again, not wanting to crack, but having someone to talk to would be nice, wouldn’t it? “Honestly, Iwa? We fuck sometimes. But he’s so disconnected it hardly feels like anything more than a step backward.” Your friend gave no visible reaction to your confession. It was like he wasn’t surprised at all. But instead of teasing you or saying ‘I told you so’ he let you continue. “And now there’s that girl, you know, the ‘prettiest girl in the world’ or whatever. And I know it’s just a crush, but I don’t know, what if I’m losing him? I bet the whole time we were together last night he was thinking about her.”

“They just met.” He was trying to comfort you, in his own way. But it fell on deaf ears. 

“Whatever. I have to get to class.” You gathered your items off the floor and headed off down the hall. “Thanks for the scone.” 

Iwaizumi sent you a million (AKA two) texts that night after their practice match, trying to talk to you about the Oikawa situation. Unfortunately for him, you were too busy breaking your own heart (AKA having sex with Oikawa) to text back anything helpful. And, unfortunately for you, Oikawa received a call from his new girl crush in the middle of the act and had to cut it short. 

“Sorry, (Y/N)!” he said, putting on his best puppy dog face, “She’s lost! I need to go rescue her!” 

“Right.” You were frustrated, cold, empty without him. But he was already tugging on his shoes and dialing her number on his phone. 

“I can’t leave a lady stranded!” he was saying, so proud of himself and happy that he could run off and rescue this mysterious maiden. You could almost laugh. He was leaving you naked and cold, he was stranding you to go find this girl who couldn’t even make her way around the city she lived in. He was on the phone with her by the time he was out the door, laughing and smiling and leaving you feeling almost sick. Maybe instead of a laugh, you would cry. 

You pulled out your phone, finally needing the advice that Iwaizumi was itching to give you. 

~Should I end this thing?

~What do you think?

~How helpful.

Wednesday

You were, once again, sitting at lunch and angrily munching on your meal while everyone around you laughed and enjoyed their time. The topic of conversation was, once again, Oikawa’s beautiful new girl friend. Not ‘girlfriend’ yet, but you were sure that’s where they were headed. How annoying. 

Iwa sat beside you like usual, and he made sure to glance over in your direction every time Oikawa mentioned his crush. You’d think his concern was sweet, if it wasn’t for the fact that Oikawa quickly noticed that you were the subject of his friend’s constant looks and asked if you were alright. It took everything in you to not scream or hit Iwaizumi or lash out at Oikawa. Instead, after a deep breath, you plastered a smile on your face and turned to Oikawa. 

“I’m fine,” you said, “Just tired.” Though you were sure it was obvious that you were lying - your fake smile wasn’t nearly as convincing as Oikawa’s - no one said a thing. Oikawa went back to his story - him and his girl had a movie night yesterday after he helped her get home, how cute - and you went back to stabbing your salad aggressively. 

You were pulled aside following the meal. Iwaizumi stood, arms crossed and face stern, ready to tell you what you needed to hear (though, it definitely wasn’t going to be what you wanted to hear). 

“I know that you like him,” he started.

“Love,” you corrected. He ignored you. 

“But trust me when I say he’s not oblivious. And you’re not subtle.” You sighed, crossing your arms to match your friend’s stance. 

“So? What am I supposed to do about it?”

“If you don’t want to lose him? Tell him the truth.” Iwaizumi walked off, leaving you alone with your thoughts. 

You didn’t text Oikawa that night. He didn’t text you either.

Thursday

You laughed at lunch, but only because Oikawa was off doing who-knows-what with his little crush. They had a lunch date or something, who knows. He squeezed in time to see her whenever he could (or at least that’s what you gathered from his teammates). He was even inviting her to practice. 

He never did that with you.

Friday

You weren’t sure what possessed you to attend the team’s game. 

You never come to these things. It was loud and hot and you could hardly push your way past the crowd of Seijoh fans that were packed into the gym. Looks like everyone had the same idea as you and came early enough to see the team’s individual warm-ups.

Because the other team had yet to arrive and start their warm-ups you were able to slip down to the court fairly easily. You just wanted to say hi to your friends and wish them luck before the game started. You also had a little treat stuffed in your pocket: some of Oikawa’s favorite candy in a little good-luck baggie. Maybe if you could get him alone you would give him the gift and tell him what you’d been thinking about for the past week (in your head you imagined it would likely go something like ‘I’m in love with you, Tooru, and I want to be with you!’ Very dramatic and romantic).

After spotting Oikawa’s head peeking up over the crowd of players, you began to make your way in his direction. How lucky, he wasn’t even practicing yet. You were determined to catch him before he got into his game mode, but you were suddenly stopped by a firm hand on your arm. Iwa had caught your arm and held you in place, keeping you from your mission of finally confessing to Oikawa. You turned to glare at Iwa, to give him a piece of your mind, but he only shook his head at you.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to see To- uh, to support the team.” Smooth.

He dropped your arm and quickly - nervously?-  glanced over your shoulder before averting his gaze right back to you. Maybe he hadn’t meant for you to see, but you noticed anyway. You turned your head slightly, just in time to see most of the team had moved out of your line of sight to expose Oikawa and - no way.

He was bending down and kissing her, right there, for everyone to see. For you and Iwaizumi and the rival team and Oikawa’s fangirls and the entire crowd and everyone to see. 

“Oh.” You turned back to Iwaizumi, whose expression was unreadable. “I, uh, I didn’t know they were actually, uh, dating.” You tried to laugh, like it was some kind of funny joke. “Didn’t they meet a week ago? This is kinda fast, huh?” 

“(Y/N)...” Iwa looked like he wanted to say more, but there was a quick whistle ‘toot’ that called his attention. His team started to make their way to the court for the official warm-ups. 

“Hey, don’t mind me. Go play!” You were smiling - God, how were you smiling? - and you shooed him off to the court. “Have a good game!” He looked torn but still shuffled over to join his team. You were ushered into the stands and ended up next to Oikawa’s crush. No, wait, girlfriend. How wonderful. 

You stayed for the entire game. Maybe because you felt it would be a waste to go. Maybe because you wanted to support the team. Maybe because you didn’t know what else to do with yourself at that moment. Whichever the case, you suffered through the game for no reason. There was no one waiting for you when it ended. There was nothing to say. 

Once you got home, it took everything in you to muster up the courage to shoot a simple text Oikawa’s way. 

~I went to your game today! You played great :)

By now you were expecting a reply an hour later, if at all. So it came as a shock when a new text popped up on your phone not even 5 minutes later. 

~I’m sorry, (Y/N), I think we should stop talking. 

You turned off your phone. 

Thursday

You and Oikawa were just friends again. Maybe that’s why things felt so normal between you two. You could laugh and talk and joke without having to worry about anyone finding out your secret. Unfortunately for you, being friends with Oikawa was what made you fall in love with him in the first place. 

Lunch was different now. His girlfriend always sat with you, taking up the tiny spot that used to sit empty next to Oikawa. She was funny, you guess, but it ruined the flow of the conversations sometimes. It felt forced to you, she felt out of place. But maybe that was just your jealousy talking, because no one else acted like anything was different at all. 

And maybe you were ridiculous, but you were still in love with him. Maybe it was easier to be in love when you didn’t have to pretend that you weren’t attached. Maybe it was easier to hide it when you didn’t have any alone time anymore. Were you happier this way? Who knows. You missed everything about him. You missed the way he touched you and the feeling of him against your skin. You missed his voice and you missed the way he held you. But you could accept it. It was better this way, right? Besides, he looked so happy with his new girlfriend. Who would want to ruin that?

But, fuck, you wished more than anything that you could get up in his face and tell him, “I’m yours.”

[got-to-love-a-badboy]

The Interview

Pairing - Dacre Montgomery x Reader

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

You are part of the cast of stranger things season 3, your character is Anna Harrington, twin sister of Steve Harrington/Billy's love interest.

You, Joe Keery and Dacre Montgomery we're being interviewed just after season 3 aired.

The three of you were sitting on chairs in a room waiting for the interviewer to come in, you were making so much noise because you were messing around and being silly, Joe was doing impressions of Dacre.

Joe - I'm Dacre ... Montgomery I'm from Australia.

Y/N - Oh god that is so much like you.

you burst out laughing

Dacre - It sounds nothing like me!

He laughed

Dacre - I'm glad you find it funny though, ok let's do y/n, Dacre! Dacre can you grab me a Fanta, I couldn't possibly move!

He said in a high pitched voice.

Joe - You do have him running errands for you y/n, good impression man

Joe laughed as he patted Dacre on the back

The interviewer walked in as Joe and Dacre were laughing.

Interviewer - Hey guys nice to meet you, I see you are enjoying your time here.

He said motioning towards the three of you laughing

Dacre - Yeah man it's good.

Y/N - Be even better if I was alone, I'm been victimised ... again, picking on a small defenceless woman, the pair of you should be ashamed!

You covered your face and pretended to cry

Joe - God you are so dramatic!"

Joe laughed over at you, earning a middle finger from you

Dacre - Oh poor baby

Dacre pulled you over to him and placed a kiss on the top of your head as Joe and the interviewer raised their eyebrows at each other. After a moment you sat back up and smiled at Dacre, but gave Joe an evil stare.

Y/N - See, Dacre knows how to be nice! Thank you Dacre.

Dacre - Anytime

he winked at you.

Interviewer - Ok!, let's get this interview under way. I have some questions here sent it by fans, So Dacre, what can you tell me about Billy in this series I've heard he has a huge character change.

Dacre - yeah, he becomes victim to the mindflayer, it takes control of him and makes him do horrible things, he isn't the nicest person to start with so I don't feel he is much different in that sense but he is definitely not himself.

Interviewer - wow another victim in Hawkins, I bet that has a huge effect on the relationships in his life, with his father and Max and then with yourself Y/N, and your character Anna.

Dacre nodded his head towards you to take this one.

Y/N - yeah I mean Anna and Billy have an up and down relationship anyway because of how Billy is, but this will definitely be the test for them, I feel Anna is a kind and caring person, so she will naturally be there for Billy no matter what, but with his own demons and then the Mindflayer taking over him, we will have to see if he lets her in.

Dacre smiled at you, fascinated by how you answered the question.

Dacre - yeah I agree with what Y/N was saying he is a tough guy and can't deal with most things so, he probably won't let anyone in, especially his dad and Max but Anna may have more chance.

Interviewer - Joe your character, Steve, hated Billy dating his sister last season does that change this season?.

Joe - um maybe, but Steve hates Billy and Billy hates Steve, I think that is something that will never change, but how is with his sister is a different story.

Interviewer - it must be hard changing from hating someone on set to how you are now, because you guys seem so close, I mean, I heard you before I came in here, the room was filled with laughter.

Joe - we have amazing relationships with the whole cast but it's very rare you see one of us three alone.

All three of you laughed.

Y/N - yeah we are like one big family, I couldn't imagine been with out these guys, they are total nerds but they're my nerds.

Dacre - you know you love us Y/N!

Joe looks at you and raised his eyebrows, you narrowed yours at him as though to say 'do not do it!' But he did!

Joe - yeah some more than others.

You rolled your eyes at him and Dacre just looked straight forward at the interviewer.

Interviewer - what is life like off set for you guys?

Dacre - it's nice because we spend so much time at each others places, like Joe said you rarely see one of us alone, it's usually me and Y/N because everyone else has some family visiting, but with us been from Australia and the UK ours can't be here.

Y/N - yeah like lastnight Joes sister came over so you went out with her didn't you Joe.

He nodded in response

Y/N - so me and Dacre had a movie night at his place, it was nice.

Interviewer ok I'm going to ask this guys so please don't be offended, they are from fans, Dacre and Y/N, fans have seen you spending so much time together but as you say neither of you have family around often, is that the only reason?.

Neither of you answered straight away, you looked at Dacre with big eyes, he decided to speak up assuming you didn't want to.

Dacre - I mean we are like best friends would people find it weird you spending time with your best friend? I think it's because Y/N is the opposite sex, but that doesn't have to mean you are sleeping together.

He looked over at you wanting approval he said the right thing, you smiled at him and nodded.

You had always loved Dacre, the minute he walked on set you couldn't believe how handsome he was and when you got to know him and how kind he was you fell in love with him, you never told him because you didn't want to ruin the amazing friendship you two had, plus you always thought he could do better than you.

When the interviewer was about to ask another question when your assistant waved to Dacre informing him he had a call.

Dacre - sorry I have to take this

He got up from his seat touching your leg on the way past.

Joe looked at you waiting for you to speak.

Y/N - what?

Joe - lets address the elephant in the room shall we? because I'm going to explode.

Y/N - I don't know what you mean

Joe - in the words of Nancy Wheeler, thats bullshit Y/N, when are you and Dacre going to just admit your feelings?

Y/N - JOE!

Joe -oh come on Y/N, Dacre has told me how he feels about you but because you haven't said anything he doesn't want to make the move and ruin your friendship, all you need to do is say how you feel!

Y/N - damn it Joe! Yes I love him ok! But I don't know how to tell him.

Joe - just say what is in your head, don't even think about it, here practice on me, tell me what you like about Dacre.

You covered your face and laughed.

Y/N - god this is embarrassing but ok here goes.

Out of the corner of his eye Joe saw Dacre walking back into the room, luckily so did your assistant, she put her arm out stopping Dacre from entering and pointed over to the 3 of you then put her finger on her lip, telling Dacre to be quiet.

Y/N - I would love to tell Dacre that I love how caring he is, how he will do anything for me without even been asked, I love that I don't need to tell him I have had a bad day, he just knows, and then shows up at my place with my favourite snacks and a movie for us to watch.

My favourite time with him was last summer when he invited me to Australia and I spent a whole 5 weeks with him and his family, he planned everything, he took me places he though I would like, not him, he does all of this without asking for anything in return.

And then there is him as a person, god his ambition and determination is mind blowing, Dacre the most talented person I have ever met, I didn't know this until after, but last month he missed an audition because he was helping me prepare for my own!, who does that!....Joe, I'm so in love with him it scares me.

Before he could answer you Dacre walked back on set and sat right next to you, you turned to face him and he just smiled at you.

Y/N - you didn't!

Dacre - I did, Y/N you want to know why I do all that?

You simply nodded at him.

Dacre - because I'm in love with you Y/N, the minute I saw you I knew you were going to be a huge part of my life and you are. You are the first thing I think about on a morning and the last thing on a night, the amount of messages I get from my family daily asking if I have asked you on a date yet is a joke, so Y/N can I take you on a date tonight?

Y/N - 100% yes

Dacre smiled the biggest smile you have ever seen on his face, his hand found your face and he caressed your cheek, you leaned closer to him and whispered

Y/N - kiss me idiot

Dacre - yes ma'am

Before you knew it his lips were on yours, the kiss soon became much more romantic than it started.

The whole room erupted into clapping and cheering, when Dacre pulled away you stared into each others eyes before been interrupted by the interviewer.

Interviewer - possibly the best interview of all time!

Joe - oh my god I need to message Nat!

Joe pulled out his phone and you all started laughing, you smiled as Dacre grabbed your hand.

——————————————

[modern-vellichor]

Grief, is a Beautiful Thing

Stage 5: Acceptance

Series Masterlist

Acceptance; a person's assent to the reality of a situation, recognizing a process or condition (often a negative or uncomfortable situation) without attempting to change it or protest it.

He's what you need. He's always been there for you, and now you see it. Now, as you stand on the roof, sun washing you of your sins, of the weeks and weeks of nothing but silence and sorrow, after the months of constant turmoil and grief. This is freedom. He's been there through it all.

When your relationship with Steve fell apart the first time, he was there to pick up the pieces. Then when he fell apart, Bucky was there to hold you up, he was there so that you could fix Steve. And when he left, and you broke and scattered across all ends of the earth, he picked you up, and put you back together.

You were there for him, but you always knew this. When Tony was trying to kill him, you took his side. When he tossed and turned during the night, you woke him, and cooed, and held him until he dreamed of sweet things, honey and sugar and you. When he was so spent from putting all his energy into you, you put on a smile and fixed him up.

This was love. Of course you loved Steve, but he was gone, and he fell in love with you for all the wrong reasons.

You fell in love with Steve, you saw last the captain, into the deepest parts of his soul. You fell in love with his smile and the way he paced when he was nervous. You fell in love with the way he held you, and his beautiful laugh.

He fell in love with Peggy, and saw her in you. The way you held yourself, the courage, the glimmer in your eyes, it was all a reminder of Peggy, his Peggy, the girl he loved so dearly.

There were aspects of you that he loved too, but he never fell in love with the full you. He never saw it.

You deserved the kind of love that Bucky gave you, pure and unfiltered and raw. It was harsh and violent but it was sweet and addicting, he couldn't get enough of you. He wanted to hold you and breathe you, until you were engraved in his soul, until you had weaved yourself into the very fabric of his being.

You needed him. He was the only thing keeping you together.

"Y/N?", his voice, that honey sweet call of home, pulled you from your violent reel of self deprecating thoughts.

You didn't deserve to be left. You deserved to be cherished.

You didn't respond, not with words. Instead, you pressed your lips to his, gentle and soft, intimate, terribly so.

His response was to cup your cheeks, to trace his fingers down your spine, across your arms, up your neck, right back to your cheeks. Tears still spilled from your eyes, but they had changed, in context. It was no longer sad and desperate, now, it was happy, it was lovely.

"I'm sorry", he whispered, mumbling into your hair as he pressed kisses to your forehead, and then your cheeks, peppering your face and neck and leaving you warm.

"I'm sorry", again. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry", he repeated it like a mantra. He was begging for forgiveness, maybe from you, maybe for you, maybe from Steve. You never really found out. But all you could whisper back was;

"in me, burns the most catholic of desires: to devour the divine"

And he stopped. His mouth shut, he simply breathed. That was his forgiveness. That was his penance, you were his vocation, his divine god that needed worship, he was on his knees, begging, screaming, and you uttered those honey sweet words, thick and sticky, and he was washed of his sins all over again.

"I love you", he was no longer begging. You were heaven on earth, this was peace, this was love. This was his declaration of his faith, his everlasting devotion to you, in all your comforting and broken glory. "I love you, I love you, I love you", uttered between desperate kisses and soft gasps.

"I love you too, Buck"

You did. You loved him. Even more than Steve.

He was always sheltered, always hiding you away,your love was soft and gentle and filtered, but not this. This was raw, gnashing teeth and criminal tongue, grazing your bare soul, flying like Icarus to the sun, hoping that Ares will catch you. This? This was criminal, near psychotic, this was manic and dangerous, but you two were safe, you were happy. This was unconventional and painful, but all the best things are. For the longest time, this was forbidden fruit. But it tastes so much better when you can't have it. Now you do, it's in the palm of your hand, sweet and addictive, and you dont ever plan on quitting.

He holds you hand. He likes to come up from behind, wrap his arms around your waist, place sweet kisses on the nape of your neck. He likes to hold you close, tangle your legs together under satin sheets and cool moonlight. He learns poems to whisper to you in the deep dark of the night. He presses his forehead to yours, he smiles at you when  you're not looking, he laughs when you do, he cries when you do. He watches all your favourite movies, listens to your favourite songs, reads your favourite books. You take him to your favourite places. He loves it, he loves you. "Hey, Steve", you chirp, leaving against the cool marble of the headstone, roses littered all over the grave. He's loved even in death. "long time no see". It had been almost three years. You like talking to Steve, he never argues back, no sarcastic comments or judgy looks. You like to think hes listening, that he smiles at your stories. People leave roses and bouquets of white, red and blue for the captain. But you leave wild daisies and lilies, agapanthus and hyacinths, for Steve. He always liked lilies, you did too, The Funeral Flowers. "Buck's doing a lot better nowadays, hes sleeping through the night again. I am too, for the most part, I wake up in the middle of the night sometimes, just missing you. It sucks", you sigh and let out a breathy laugh. Bucky left you to get coffee, so you popped in for a visit. "Theres way more photos around the compound now, of you and the team, Morgan too. She's getting so big, Steve, you should see her. She's exactly like Tony, same eyes, same brain, same stupid decisions. I keep telling her she has to be at least 16 to be an avenger, because that's how old Peter was when he became one" A vase falls over next to you, you sigh, picking it up, "manners, Steve. Anyway, I'm in love" "Yeah, crazy. He's not as soft as you are, not as sheltered, Sam loves it, constantly making fun of you, how your ex and your best friend got together. I think I wanna marry him, Stevie" A cup of steaming coffee is shoved in your direction, Bucky smiles down at you. "Look at this, Rogers. The bastard finally cut his hair, would you believe it?" Bucky shoved your shoulder as he sat down next to you, leaning against your shoulder, nuzzling into your neck. "shut up", me mumbles. You laugh. Song like and wonderful. You wanted to marry Steve, once upon a time. You still feel guilty, but Steve's gone. He got his happy ending, you deserve yours. This is your happy endings, overpriced coffee and sunny afternoons, 2ams spent in your car, driving to God knows where, secret poems exchanged in the dark. You still talk to the moon, your saviour, your keeper. But you no longer beg for the sweet relief of death, or numbness, you no longer cry about love lost in the dark. Now, you chant, you sing, you dance, you're in love. You're yourself again, everyone notices. "Lady moon", you whisper. You're on the roof, hot mug in your hands. "tell me he loves me as much as I love him. This is heaven on earth", you smile to the sky, to the star that shines brighter than the others, to the lost souls floating up there. "He does", you jump a little as Bucky wraps his arms around you. "he loves you more than you could ever imagine" A single tear rolls down your cheek, it gets lost between your lips as you press a chaste kiss to his neck.

Eternity. You wish, you hope.

You don't know it, but Steve would be happy for you. He remembers how broken you were when he found you, when Tony found you. He remembers saving you, even in death he loved to see you smile. He remembers how Bucky never slept through a night, he remembers walking into the gym at 6am only to find that Bucky had been there for hours already. He remembers the tears he had shed in secrecy, the pleas for peace and freedom. He knows that you give him peace, he dreams of sweet things with you in his bed. He knows his heart warms with your touch, and he smiles at the twinkle in your eyes. Steve wouldn't have left if it meant leaving you, or Bucky, but you had each other. Steve left because he knew you would piece each other back together. You meant everything to him, so did Bucky. Steve got his happy ending, and you got yours.

[kenbunshokus]

this is a (super late) update to this fic rec post! i was planning to just keep editing and updating that post, but it’s been so old it no longer appears on tumblr search system and all, so here we are. be ready for some old school zosans in the mix

all complete

absolute favorites will be noted with a ♡

list will be updated as i find more

story count: 30 fics

last update: jan 5th 2020

CANON-VERSE

Goings On by clarify  ♡

Zoro and Sanji understand each other, and sometimes have a very similar sense of humor. Even though they're worlds ahead of most, sometimes they can't help but to act their age.

easily one of my favorites. zoro and sanji are completely in character, being themselves and comfortable in each other’s spaces. for anyone who thinks zoro and sanji can’t get along in canon, this fic can easily prove them wrong.

Part Timer by 8ball ♡♡

Sanji really, really doesn't want to give Zoro a job at his restaurant. Zoro doesn't really even want to work there in the first place, but, well, there’s this thing with Sanji, and this thing with feelings and the whole thing is pretty damn stupid all together.

Zeff just wants grandkids. He’s too old for this bullshit anyways.

a wonderful, heart-wrenching, roller coaster ride of a post-series fic. this fic is not just a mere fic — it’s a zosan magnum opus with guest appearances by so many other characters, lots of crew hijinks and a must-read for everyone who craves for a happy ending for these good boys.

Say It Again by 8ball

Zoro tells Sanji how he feels. And then again. And again. 

since we’re talking about 8ball i just want you to know i’d rec everything they’ve ever written, but special mention to say it again — a classic miscommunication trope fic done well where the miscommunication stems from fundamental misunderstanding of each other’s principles and views instead of just some plot-convenient coincidences. and soft zoro. god, he is soft.

The Wedding Night by cuethe-pulse (lj)

Zoro had never expected any of this.

major character death warning. don’t let the first few scenes fool you. note the warning; the last few lines were like a punch in the gut for me, except, you know, the good kind of punch. also, a quick rec of a drabble by the same author to soothe the pain after this one.

Roronoa Zoro: World’s Greatest Bug Killer by insaneidiot ♡

Sometimes, Zoro's life really sucks. He should've known better than to make fun of Sanji's bug phobia, though...

zoro’s internal monologue is hilarious  — until today, this author is still my go-to expert on zoro’s voice, especially his more sarcastic side.

Quitting’s Easy by insaneidiot

Sanji decides to quit smoking. This is not quite so easy as he thinks it will be. Also, his crewmates (excluding Robin and Nami, of course!) are assholes.

fun, fun strawhat hijinks and oblivious sanji. the crew dynamics and especially sanji’s voice are pitch perfect. there’s a hint of luffy/nami that you can easily scroll past if it’s not your thing.

I can’t stop thinking that i can’t stop thinking by hieiandshino ♡

In which Brook changes tactics and Zoro is not amused. Everyone else is, though.

holy shit is this fic hilarious. i love comedy fics that manage to slip in thoughtful observations and character study in between the hijinks, and this fic pulls that off with flying colors. 

The Walls See All by threesipsmore

Reiju hides a snail cam in her brother's room.

fun short fic from reiju’s pov. there’s never enough zosan set in whole cake island arc and this fic delivers.

Stormbird by Judin ♡

The Straw Hats' first landing in the New World is on Arashi Island, where it looks like they'll be spending a fun week attending the local festival and making new friends. Until they spot a strange pirate ship in the harbour, and Sanji starts behaving oddly. The Straw Hats become entangled with the mysterious Gently Pirates, a crew that harbour many secrets, and whose captain is a man out of Sanji's past who has the power to tear the Straw Hat crew apart. 

it cannot be overstated how wonderful this fic is, and how it could’ve fit into the canon just nicely, like a better-written one piece movie, except with zosan. not only are sanji and zoro in character, every strawhat gets a spotlight and has pitch-perfect voices. brook is especially lovely in this fic.

Unintended Consequence by itsmylifekay

A group of marines charge, Zoro slices through them, and in that instant Sanji feels his own eyes grow wide. Because there, on the arm now outstretched towards him, steel glinting in hand, is the stupid bracelet he’d given Zoro. The bastard is actually wearing it.

there’s a reason this is the most kudo-ed zosan fic on ao3 right now — it’s so soft without being ooc, and there’s a quiet undercurrent of affection laid throughout the fic that will warm you up from the insides.

Somewhere Between Sorrow and Bliss by srididdledeedee

Sanji has never cared for winter.

He can see himself, is the thing. There are bits and pieces that poke through, but it’s not all him. It’s like staring in a fractured mirror. He knows, intellectually, that the person staring back at him is himself, but his face is splintered and his shape is distorted and his body is wrong.

a fantastic character study on trans!sanji and how he comes to terms with his identity with the help of his crewmates. supportive strawhats are always a lovely addition to a zosan fic

Give In To Love by libbylune

Zoro knows better than to think about it too much, but between the rowdy festivals and ancient unexplained temples on this island, it's hard to forget about wanting Sanji.

i love how this fic puts as much focus on the boys after the confession as it does before the confession. a good case fic with its own unique island adventure and i’m always a sucker for soft!zoro

Laundry by libbylune

Dealing with Sanji makes Zoro develop a lot of opinions about clothes.

there’s absolutely nothing hotter than bi!sanji who’s completely comfortable with his gender identity and sexuality. also gay disaster zoro fumbling his words whenever sanji is around is 1) accurate 2) hilarious.

Language of Swords by HaveMyWeedCookies ♡

It took them for a while but finally, Zoro asked if Sanji wanted to hold his sword.

i love fics that explore zoro’s relationship with his craft and his swords, and adding zosan into the mix is something i didn’t know i needed. an interesting outsiders pov zosan in the pov of zoro’s swords.

Ghost of a Chance by sabershadowkat

“I know, for sure, that I didn’t expect to miss everyone so much, including you.” Sanji cut a glance at Zoro and rephrased correctly, “Especially you.”

this fic handles tropes that are usually associated with character death fics, but manages to end it with a happy ending. zoro’s devotion here is heart-wrenching.

Idiot Romance by sabershadowkat

"This has to be a joke," Sanji muttered, poking at the colored petals. Zoro couldn't have just given him flowers.

a classic  — this is literally the first zosan fic i’ve ever read — and a lovely one at that. sanji is oblivious and zoro attempts romance, not that zoro ever needed to.

festival night by thisislegit

“ANOTHER FEAT BY THE WORLD’S STRONGEST MAN, JORIRI.” The woman turned to Mr. Mohawk and with faux sympathy said, “Oh! Sorry, sir. Maybe next time. We can’t always beat the best, but we can do our best and that’s what matters. Do we have any other takers? ANY OTHER TAKERS READY FOR THE STRONG MAN CHALLENGE? HOW ABOUT YOU SIR? MADAM? YOU OVER THERE? ARE YOU INTERESTED?”

“What kind of shit name is Joriri,” said Zoro and Sanji in unison.

i’m an absolute sucker for fics that have zoro and sanji simply hanging out and enjoying each other’s company, comfortable in a way they couldn’t with their other crewmates, and this fic exemplifies that. just them being little shits and having fun with one another.

No Victory in Hesitation & the Past Has Its Lessons by EudaimonErisornae & vageege

Zoro has a lot of things he wants to say to Sanji, but he just needs one more day. || Zoro tries to fix a mistake he made in the past.

major character death warning. i died a little bit inside after reading this tbh. there are some devil fruits-explained time travel hijinks, but mostly it’s this looming, grim inevitability of death that’s written so pervasively throughout the fic that really got me.

Imperatives by dollcewrites

Zoro is confident in saying that Sanji is a man who doesn’t do what he’s told. Which is why, when a command accidentally slips from Zoro’s lips during foreplay, he is expecting to hear the cook’s scoff as he continues to do what he pleases.

i don’t tend to do pwp, but this isn’t just one — it’s a completely in-character piece about their relationship and dynamics.

when you say by bluewalk ♡

It's a long time in coming. Usopp can promise, but.

this fic is as much sanuso as it is zosan, and usopp here is — still very much usopp, but also a very beautiful take on his character as someone who spent a lot of time behind sanji’s back, and realizes that when he watches sanji’s back, he gets to see zoro’s, too.

a complete guide to falling in love by ThousandSunny

Sanji was trained in the Bridal Arts; this does not go unnoticed by the rest of his crew.

while the main ship is still zosan, the fic also focuses a lot on zoro and sanji’s relationship with the rest of the crew, and it’s one of those fics that really makes you realize how much of a family the strawhats is. a lovely read all around.

destructivity is a poison that run through our veins by wasteofmind

Zoro thinks that, someday, they are going to kill each other.

a dysfunctional take of their relationship. it’s fascinating in the same way a car crash is fascinating  — there’s an undercurrent of something violent, something visceral. this is one of the fics that inspired me to write migratory animals.

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE

Ocean’s Child by 8ball  ♡

Here's the truth: Zoro couldn't swim. He fell in the water and sank like a stone because there had never been anyone to teach him how to move his arms. He forgot that if he screamed for help the water would get in his mouth, and he even opening his eyes hurt.

Here’s the other truth, the one that stays a secret: a mermaid saved him.

a fascinating retelling of the one piece canon with mermaid!sanji. it feels a lot like a love letter to the seas, and it’s mesmerizing how sanji’s mermaid backstory is seamlessly weaved into the one piece canon.

with you by Cirro

How to find your life partner in three easy steps: 1. Punch them in the face 2. Insult their cognitive abilities 3. Embarrass them so much they agree to marry you

a wholesome two-part modern au series. my personal favorite is the second part, where sanji brings zoro home to meet zeff — complete with the two of them teasing sanji in their own ways.

The Proper Reaction (or What To Do When Your Son Brings His Boyfriend Home by three_days_late

Holidays at the Baratie were always hectic, but it's nothing Zeff can't handle. Sanji's new boyfriend, on the other hand...

on the topic of meet-the-family: the only thing more fun than zoro meeting zeff is zoro meeting zeff and the entirety of baratie staff. also includes one of my favorite line about bi!sanji: “sanji loves nice girls and bad boys”.

Exclusive by cuethe-pulse

Zoro loves Sanji, Sanji loves Zoro. Zoro wants to be exclusive, so Sanji should, too. Right?

this is a circus/bakery au. yes, you read that right, and yes, it works. i went into this fic with a lot of doubts and came out very satisfied with how fleshed out everyone in this au is, and i’m forever in awe with how the author can set up an entirely separate, vivid universe with so few words.

Delivery by styx_in_the_mud

Sanji is stuck delivering pizzas when Patty is out of commission for a while. Zoro likes to order pizza after training. Both of them are sort of idiots, but Zoro can be smooth as fuck if he puts his mind to it.

a fun, in-character au with good ol’ banter and cute get-together.

The End of It All by xpiester333xx

Humans have been forced underground due to the effects of a chemical weapon that has made surface life impossible. Sanji lives in one of these underground colonies and though he dreams of bigger things his life has been mundane; spent following strict rules and obeying higher commands. Or it was, until a stranger shows up and changes everything.

the author labelled it as sci-fi au, but I personally think it’s more dystopian-like? either way, while this fic is on the long side, it manages to keep everyone in character until the very end, which is something that can’t be said for a lot of fics.

well, there we go! feel free to drop me an ask if you want to rec me fics or ask for a more specific/themed rec list; i’ll also update this post regularly !!

i also have an ao3 donutsandcoffee if you want to see my take on these dorks o/

[et-lesailes]

missing linc // chapter eight

series masterlist

pairing: ceo!dad!steve x reader

word count: 2620

chapter summary: a little backstory on tiana’s relationship with steve, and stella’s. 

WARNINGS: implications of rape and violence, please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable.

taglist:  @viarogers , @evanstush , @chibi-crazy , @cevanswh0re , @songforhema, @sebabestianstan101 ,  @bval-1, @wonderwinchester, @poerebel , @gogomez-509 , @patzammit, @a-distantdreamer, @jbug491writinghelp, @broklynbby, @lille-kattunge,  @rohaintahquil, @deidrashouseofpain, @firstangeldragonranch, @peach-acid, @allsortsofinterests, @xoxabs88xox, @honeyloverogers, @capsiclesdoll, @mcueveryday,  @bangtan-serendipity, @heyyouwiththeassbutt, @cptn-sgrogers, @heyiamthatbitch, @captainscanadian, @kaithezaftig, @morganhoran1671, @booktease21, @hista-girl, @steeeeverogers, @okilover02,  @sadella-adams, @rumoured-whispers​, @aletteredaffair​, @shannon124, @isawritesstories, @knuffeltuff, @wxntersoldiers, @kelbabyblue​, @macgruberrr​, @troublermalik​,  @societalfailure​, @brastrangled​, @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall​, @anxiousstark​, @captainsbxbygirl​, @barbar126​, @cevanswhores​, @whimsicalatbest​, @amazonian-strap-queen​, @bookish-shristi​, @hannie-stark​, @beardburnsupersoldiers​, @babyhua​, @kind-sober-fullydressed​, @whores4thor​, @gingerninjaprincess16​, @straightforwardly​, @danathewitchywoman​, @rosee-sensuelle​, @angelicdisgrace​, @thoughtfulcollectormaker, @sammyslonglostshoe, @mizariomi, @jadedhillon, @bohemian-barbie, @marvelouspottering, @denisemarieangelina, @mango--mango, @frencchfries, @xlanawriter, @littlemoistcarrot, @pottxrwolff, @arianatheangelworld, @ifuseekamyevans, @lovehatekickscream, @southerngracela, @nsfwsebbie

notes: okay FINALLY back home from traveling and FINALLY updating. i know you guys miss steve/reader interactions, but seeing this is more of an actual story with several relations involved, there’s a lot to unpack here so i apologize. maybe i’ll make it up to ya in the next chapter ;) as usual please give me feedback, i’m interested to see how you feel about all the characters after this! this is also a taglist check-- if you are on this taglist and do not at LEAST give this post a like within the week, i will be removing you!

TIANA

They met in graduate school. Both in their early twenties, figuring out life, trying to balance the demanding expectations of their classes and the fun times with their friends. 

They had been in the “honeymoon phase” since before they even started dating. Tiana remembered every single detail about the night they first met. A mutual friend’s party, she was wearing a brand new top she had just bought that day itself on a spontaneous shopping trip with her best friends paired with jeans that made her legs look amazing, as Steve would tell her later that night. It was practically a cliche movie moment; they locked eyes across the room and couldn’t stop staring. Steve approached her, his blue eyes bright, blond hair neatly trimmed, jawline chiseled, the sleeves of his nice shirt hugging his built biceps. If she wasn’t in love already, their conversation was even more appealing. They found a corner to themselves and talked about everything under the sun. The little things, such as the weird insect Steve found under a rock while he was camping when he was six and the best piece of pizza Tiana had ever eaten in her life in New York City just last week. The big things, too. Steve reflecting on his mother’s death when he was young, and Tiana discussing her experiences with bulimia when she was a mere middle schooler. 

She had never felt so comfortable with someone in her life. It didn’t take long for them to start dating. They had received plenty of criticism from all their friend groups. “You’re jumping into this too fast.” “It won’t last if you rush things.” “Don’t you want to get to know each other better first before putting a label on this?”

She knew every part of him. And he, her. He was truly her other half. And she, his.

He was a big romantic. On her twenty-fifth birthday, he surprised her by using money he had saved up to rent out the small diner her parents would take her and her sister out to dinner every Sunday night-- for a small and intimate party for her and their friends. One particular Christmas when she expressed being a little sad they did not yet have a proper home to decorate in pretty lights, he strung up lights around the inside of the entire apartment while she was at work, even putting up an inflatable snowman in their bedroom. She could still remember coming home that day, tired and weary, only to be met with absolute joy and brightness. The snowman looked so adorably ridiculous inside their tiny bedroom, she had burst out laughing and couldn’t stop for the next five minutes.

She could remember all of this vividly. It was when things all went wrong that it was a bit of a blur.

Steve studied hard. He worked hard. He found the time for her, it was never time management that had been a problem. He worked his way up in his company until he decided he wanted to start his own. It was a huge investment, but he had been saving. He refused to accept financial help from her-- not that she was in any better position. She had a great job as a data security analyst, but she was nowhere near as senior as Steve already was. She was getting there, but he was older, and he had put in more time to his business degree and certifications. This was something he had wanted since he was young.

And so he followed his dreams. He started a company, and it was incredibly small at first. Still, she was proud of him. More proud than she had ever been of anyone in her life. Watching him have so much ambition and drive only motivated her to do better. And so she did; she worked hard, making her way up her own company, doing whatever she could to be a girlfriend Steve could continue being proud of.

Perhaps it was this pressure that made their relationship implode.

He had never given this pressure to her. She could acknowledge this. He never acted in a way that made her feel inferior, in a way where he thought he was better for being a big CEO. She supposed she was the one who put the pressure on herself, who continued to feel more and more insecure as she watched her boyfriend, eventually fiance, eventually husband’s company grow and grow, his responsibilities becoming bigger and bigger. They had less time together, but when they did have time, he made up for it. He was always good about that. He always made it a point to communicate with her, to tell her in advance when he was busy, and to always ask and be genuinely curious about her day and how she was doing. 

He was the perfect partner. And she felt like she was not.

She started to lash out more. Perhaps subconsciously pushing him away so that she did not have to face her insecurities so directly while standing next to him. She became more irritable, she spent more time with her own friends and prioritized them over him. He was confused, sad, upset-- it was all an ugly, convoluted mess. She hated herself more and more each time she broke his heart, but she continued to do it. His sadness began to turn into anger. “What did I do to you, Tiana? What did I do that was so wrong?” he would yell, his eyes even wet with tears from his frustration. “Why are you acting like this?” She didn’t know why she couldn’t tell him. She used to be able to tell him anything, and now she felt so small and insignificant next to him. She felt like she wasn’t doing enough. The more oblivious he was to this matter, the less he could help her or reassure her that this was not the case. It was not his fault. It was hers.

She knew that.

They decided to spend some time apart. Not an official break up, but a break, as much as she hated that term. They needed it. She needed to be alone, to work through her insecurities and crippling low self-esteem. He simply needed to be away from the confusing trainwreck that she was. They did not completely cut off communication; they checked in with each other at least once or twice a week, and that eventually turned into occasionally grabbing coffee or lunch together. It was like the process of dating all over again, and it was actually refreshing. She did not feel the pressure that came with living in the same home with him, watching all of his work endeavors and feeling shitty with her own. They could take it nice and slow, and she was enjoying it. 

She thought he was, too.

Four months into their odd, friendship-slash-dating relationship, Steve called her one night, close to midnight. He sounded somber. Tired. Guilty. Ashamed. Scared, even. “We need to talk. In person. Can I come over?” She remembered her heart racing fast. The worst scenarios popped into her mind, one-by-one. Had he decided he no longer wanted anything to do with her? Had she messed up somehow, and didn’t even know it? Was he okay-- had he been diagnosed with some type of life-threatening disease, had he been in an accident? Was his family okay-- was there a death, did he need to travel home? Every single possible situation played out in her mind, anxiety racking her brain.

Never had she imagined that Steve would come to her home to tell her that he had gotten another woman pregnant.

Never had she imagined that this woman was her own, twenty-two-year-old sister.

STELLA

Stella had always felt like the black sheep of the family.

She was the late addition suffering from the terrible cliche of having a perfect, older sister while she herself was the mischievous troublemaker, always up to no good. There was a thirteen year age difference between herself and Tiana, and because of this, it was difficult for the two to ever get close. The more she watched Tiana excel in academics, extracurriculars, and relationships, the less motivated she became. She figured being the less successful sibling without actually trying to do better was easier-- if she did actually try and fail, how would she ever feel any better about herself? 

She barely managed to make it through high school, and the only reason she did was because her parents forced her to. She certainly was not going to college. She picked up different jobs and eventually moved out of her family’s house, tired of her parents’ lectures and nagging. The shitty little apartment she resided in with two random roommates in the most dangerous part of the city felt far more like home than her birth home ever did. 

She had her looks going for her. She was the complete opposite of her sister, who while also pretty, took more after their father. Stella was her mother’s daughter; the classic supermodel body, blonde locks with natural waves, amber eyes, heart shaped face. She used this to her advantage. Her income consisted not only of her job as a bartender, but of being a sugar baby to random older men in the city. She refused to have sex with them. They were alright with this. They just wanted her company.

People could get desperate when they were lonely enough. Her string of one-night-stands proved she knew this.

She began modeling for an amateur photographer. Shoots in cute sweaters, leggings, and boots in the New York autumns turned into risque poses in strappy bikinis and high heels in the summer. It wasn’t long before the top came off, soft hands and long fingers shielding her breasts as she looked blankly into the camera.

The photographer wanted her to reveal even more. She declined.

He did not take that so well, despite being her own boyfriend.

She was twenty-two, bruised and black eyed as she stumbled out of his ratty apartment, legs sore and aching with tears running down her cheeks-- only to make her sob even more from the pain that came with the mere action of crying. She had gotten herself into a lot of sticky situations in the concrete jungle, but she was finally starting to feel fear. 

She wasn’t sure why Steve Rogers was the first person who came to mind. Steve, her older sister’s golden boy, whom she had only met a few times at family dinners she actually bothered to show up to only when she needed free food. Perhaps because he was actually nice to her. Sure, maybe he was only being polite because he needed to impress his girlfriend’s parents. But sometimes, it seemed like he actually cared when he asked her how bartending was going and if she was safe and secure staying in the city. He did not seem judgmental in the slightest that she had passed on attending college, despite being a total scholar and businessman himself. He had even told her she was welcome to his and Tiana’s apartment any time, if she ever needed a place to crash; she remembered the dirty look Tiana had given him the second he had made this offer.

When was the last time she had even seen him? It had been a while.

She slowly took out her phone and pulled up his number. She only had it because Tiana had texted her from it one time when her phone was dead, telling her she better be at Thanksgiving dinner in order to not disappoint their grandparents who knew absolutely nothing about her mess of a situation. 

When he told her that he and Tiana were separated, she was shocked. She would have never seen it coming. She remembered the way they’d look at each other, how they’d laugh over the dumbest things, how she had never seen her sister look so happy in the entire time she knew her. 

He still wanted to help her, though. How could he not? She had been a sobbing mess on the phone as she recounted everything she had just gone through, all while wondering why she was suddenly being so trusting with a man she hardly knew. Perhaps because he was the only man in her life that actually seemed dependable.

She arrived to his apartment and he was shocked upon seeing her face. He wanted to call her parents, but she practically screamed at him not to. Begged. She couldn’t handle that, she could barely even handle being so vulnerable with him. He was reluctant but obliged, though insisted she stay with him in case her now ex-boyfriend tried to hunt her down and hurt her even more. She agreed, but was instantly on edge again once he told her he wanted to tell Tiana. “No. No, Steve, please, you can’t. She’ll drag me to my parents’ house, she’ll lecture me, she’s just-- she’s going to be a total bitch. I’ll stay here only for a few days tops then figure something out on my own. Please.”

Again, he reluctantly obliged. 

She did not only stay for a few days. She found herself opening up to him more and more, she actually enjoyed spending time with him.

Strangely enough, she never developed feelings for him, nor he for her. It was a strong friendship, a strong bond, a good connection-- but all purely platonic. Perhaps it was her subconscious, reminding her that this man was involved with her sister. She knew they were still seeing each other from time to time, though it was nothing committal or exclusive. He had explained to her what had gone wrong between them, and she listened. Even offered him advice, based on the limited knowledge she had about her own sister’s personality and interests. 

He kept pleading for her to let him tell Tiana that she was staying there, and she kept begging him not to. He was beginning to feel more guilty. Stella might as well have been living with him at that point.

“I’ll move back to my parents’.” She finally said one day, and he looked at her in surprise. “What? You hated living there. Besides, once you move back they’d never let you leave that place again. Especially if they find out everything that’s happened to you.”

“I’ll figure it out. You shouldn’t have to keep lying to my sister.”

And so it was decided. She would return home the next day, and Steve could live with at least a little less of a guilty conscience. 

Or so they had thought. Their last night together turned from a simple pizza and movie night with beer to going out and hitting the bars, celebrating her last night in the heart of the city before she would have to return to her parents’ home outside of it. After several drinks and a fun night of dancing, the two came back to Steve’s apartment.

The rest was history.

They did not speak to each other even once after that night-- at least, not until the day she found out she was pregnant with Steve Rogers’ child. From there, she, Steve, and Tiana would be tangled up in one messy situation for the next nine months, until she could finally have the little blond, blue-eyed child and be free from her family thanks to Steve’s money supporting her in the city while he and Tiana moved and took the baby with them.

She had never wanted it, anyways. There was no way someone like her could be a mother.

[marvelhero-fics]

Silent Britain

Series - Chapter One

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: You and Tom are working as love interests in a new Scorsese film, essentially leading to be love interests in real life

A/N: This is technically chapter one! Thanks for all the support on the prologue I'm glad heaps of you enjoyed it! I also wasn’t really planning on doing a taglist for this fic but a lot of people requested to be on it so I ended up making one (it’s below the cut at the bottom). If you’d like to be on it just send me a message or leave a comment on pretty much any Silent Britain post. Thanks for the support again!!!!!!

This chapters a bit of a slow-burn but next chapter get much more interesting. Please go read the prologue first, this chapter will make much more sense if you do. It’s linked down below in the masterlist. 

The italics in this story are the readers thoughts!

Word Count: 3,800

Silent Britain Masterlist || Full Masterlist 

And there goes the explosion. “I need to pull over. I’m about to have a stroke.”

The next two weeks truly flew by. You were partly happy, because you couldn’t wait to fly out to California and meet everyone, but it did also heighten your nerves. You did as much research as you could about Britain in the 70’s, even taking time to go see your grandparents who were conveniently alive at the time. But, by their description of the decade you could tell they must’ve been on some crazy drug back then, I guess that’s a pretty big tell of what the 70’s were like anyway.

“I promise you’re gonna do such an amazing job, I’m always just a phone call or text away if you need me, (Y/N/N).” Evie sung, pulling you into the tightest embrace.

“I know, Eve. I’m gonna miss you so much.” You pouted. To make life a little easier for yourself, you’d decided to fly out to California and stay there until production started, which was set to be in about a month. That way you didn’t have to fly there, then home, then there again, considering it was a twelve hour flight, and God, you hated flying.

“You are going to be incredible, my darling girl.” Your mum stated, giving you a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She knew she wouldn’t be able to see you for a while so she’d come over to send you off.

“Thanks mum. I love you heaps and I’ll call you when I get there.” You were incredibly close with your mum. She had always been such a huge support system for you and your career, you always credited any success you had to her.

And with that, you were in the car being driven to the airport.

~

The twelve hour flight had taken your physical and mental battery down to about 0. Even up in First Class all you did was read your script over and over, and panic. As well as getting some time to watch The Departed, one of Scorsese’s incredibly well done films. Unfortunately, instead of enjoying it, you essentially studied it. Fortunately, you got to use your ‘Taxi Driver’ notebook. Is this slightly obsessive? You studied how DiCaprio and Nicholson delivered their lines, and how often the sets changed, and all the camera angles. God, you’re purposely trying to freak yourself out now.

Touching down in California was nice. The first thing you really noticed was the heat. It was July, so it was the middle of summer, and in California it got hot. Of course, you weren’t complaining, this meant nice air conditioning on set, as well as good weather to work with in production. Yea, that would be the only thing I think about.

An older looking gentleman stood at the arrival gate with a sign that read (Y/L/N) in bulk letters. You quickly went over to greet him. Lazily, you strolled out to the large SUV, trying to get as much time on your feet as possible after the long flight. You’d seen photos, and heard horror stories of actors being mobbed at airports, with fans even waiting at the arrival gates all day to catch a glimpse of their favourite celebrity. That never happened to you, but you tried to be much more thankful than jealous. Large crowds weren’t really your forte.

“How was your flight, Miss (Y/L/N)?” Your driver politely asked, turning on the engine of the car.

“It wasn’t too bad. It just felt super long,” you chuckled, sluggishly.

“Well, at least you’re back on solid ground now.” He smiled through the rear-vision mirror.

“Yea, very happy to be. Out of curiosity, are you picking up any other members of the cast?” You peered up, knowing this man likely worked for the studio.

“Indeed, I am. I picked up Jude Law yesterday morning, and Daniel Craig and Rachel Weisz last night.” He responded,

“Huh, and what’re they like?”

“Well, Mr Law was very friendly, we ended up chatting most of the way to the hotel. And Mr Craig and Mrs Weisz seemed lovely, but I didn’t talk with them very much. They were a little more closed off.” He continued, you simply nodding to his words, “And I believe I’m picking up a Mr Holland much later tonight.”

“Oh, right. Busy day for you then.”

“Well, it’s just the usual.” And with that, you stopped talking. Your mind wandered off the small talk. God almighty, it’s gonna be a fucking long night tonight. You thought, simply just processing all the things you knew you had to organise before tomorrow. The ride to the hotel didn’t seem like a very long one, or maybe it was? Maybe you’d zoned out to an entire different reality and didn’t notice time passing, either way you made it to the Four Seasons and checked in with no trouble at all.

It was pretty much exactly what you’d expect from the Four Seasons. A small, spacious living area, with a large, grey L-shaped couch, and a big-screen TV. A small kitchen to the left, that you’re sure wouldn’t be able to make more than a bowl of pasta. A bedroom off in a separate room, with a bed that was far too big for one person. And an Asylum-white bathroom with a bathtub that was going to make your stay here much better. Looks like this is home for the next month. Being apart of the Hollywood scene, you got kind of used to hotel rooms becoming a second home. The amount of time you spent essentially having to tour around California for filming, staying in different hotels with similar-looking hotel rooms just became second nature.

First point of action; now that you’d touched down and gotten comfortable, was to call your mother. She’d slowly figured out how to worry less about you, now that you were older and had figured your life out a bit more, but she was still always going to be a mother.

The phone only rang twice before she picked up. “Hey, mum.” You greeted,

“Hi, love! I’m glad you’re safe and well, how was your flight?”

“Long. But the hotel’s really nice.” You responded, letting your body fall back onto the king-sized bed.

“Did you watch any movies?”

“Yea, I watched The Departed.”

“Oh, that’s a bit of a grim film, love.” Your mum stated, being as motherly as ever.

You chuckled a bit, “wait until you see the film I’m about to be in.”

“Did you get any sleep on the plane? And how was the food?”

“Yea, the food was really nice, it was like a salmon and couscous thing. And no, I didn’t really get any sleep, but I didn’t really try too, I kinda had a lot of other things to do.” You spoke.

“Well, you need to make sure you get some sleep tonight. And you let me know if you need anything at all!” Your mother conveyed

“Thanks, mum. And I promise everything is going fine, I’m fine. And I’ll let you know how the cast meet up and rehearsals go.” You returned. And with her best wishes, your mother hung up. That left you lying there, your body slightly sunken into the soft mattress of the Four Seasons bed. Almost every celebrity you’d met had told you to not search your own name on the internet. They always told you you’d find some very unfavourable things, but if you didn’t go looking for it you wouldn’t find it. So with that excellent mentality, you searched your name.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N). It took only seconds to type and click enter. The first article talked about the upcoming film. I guess the news already broke. It was probably leaked purposely for publicity, you didn’t care either way.

Upcoming Scorsese Film to have Star-Filled Line Up, Signing Hopkins, Hardy, Bale, and (Y/L/N). Being called a star was quite nice. It always shocked you just a little bit, knowing that people knew your name. Knowing that you’d actually become news. This is what you’d wanted for a long time though, to be a movie-star. You read further into the article.

‘Scorsese’s latest film to centre around 1970’s British Mob family, the Bakers. No news on the initial release date, however official members of the cast include Tom Hardy, Anthony Hopkins, Christian Bale, and (Y/N) (Y/L/N).’ The article showed photos of the four of you, including a photo of Scorsese. At least they picked a nice picture.

‘If this mobster film is anything like we’ve seen in the past from Scorsese, we can expect a stunning and vivid look at the ugliness and volatile nature of true Gangster films. Potentially even a few Academy Awards if Scorsese continues his war-path of masterly crafted cinema.’ You even chuckled at that last line, the Academy Awards. You’d attended the Emmys last year and that was the highlight of your life. If you were at the Oscars you’d probably spontaneously combust. You flicked your phone off and threw it to the other side of the bed, lying patiently in the quickly setting Californian sun. Am I supposed to feel this overwhelmed? You simply sat with your thoughts for a few moments, knowing that nothing was going to be the same after this film. Martin Scorsese essentially started Robert De Niro’s career in Taxi Driver, same with Jodie Foster. Not to mention Al Pacino’s career starting in a 70’s gangster film too. Each of these actors now being multi-award winning, millionaires. I don’t think I could function being that famous.

Once you’d finished basking in the glory and horror of it all, you sorted out your clothes from all of your luggage, and headed to bed. It was probably still too early to be in bed, but you’d had no sleep on the flight and just wanted to rest, especially for the chaos of tomorrow.

~

That all-too-familiar noise of your phone alarm ripped you back into consciousness. Surprisingly, you’d slept like the dead last night. You thought the panic and nerves would’ve kept you up, or disrupted your sleep, but thankfully it was actually very peaceful. Wonder how long that’s gonna last. Everything you did during the morning was mechanical. Having a shower, getting dressed, doing your hair and make-up. It was all just simply going through the motions while your mind ticked away. You tried to remember every part of the script, while also going over today’s encounters. Am I supposed to act like a fan of these actors? Or do I act super cool? Like I don’t care?

Your gaze rested upon your figure in the mirror. Wearing a casual pair of jeans, a regular t-shirt, with your favourite Nikes. Along with bits and pieces of jewellery that fitted. Do I look too plain? Like one of the million assistants on set? Was everyone else going to be dressed up? What sort of cast meet up is this? It was 9:00 am, so regardless of your racing thoughts, you didn’t have any time to change. You grabbed your hand-bag, script, and note-book and went downstairs to get into the car the studio had sent, and with that you were on the long drive to set. Neither you or the driver talked to each other, you partly blamed yourself for not initiating conversation. Your mum would’ve been upset with you. ‘No matter how famous you get, my darling, you’re not allowed to look down on others. You can never think of yourself as better than others. You’ll always be a regular person, who makes mistakes, and does great things. Always, always be kind.’ She’d always lecture you. God, you’d kill to have your family here with you.

The SUV pulled up to the lot, getting access to the private area where the meet-up was happening. You made sure to thank the driver before you met up with a shorter, plumper lady, who obviously seemed like she was expecting you by her greeting.

“Welcome to the studio, (Y/N). My name’s Angela, I’m the production manager for Silent Britain.” She spoke, the Californian accent very prominent in her voice.

“Nice to meet you.” You responded,

“It’s nice to meet you too, if you could just follow me, I'll take you to the room where everyone’s meeting.” She said with a smile.

“Sounds good.” Angela walked you to the huge garage-type room. Well, it wasn’t actually a room, it was just an empty stage on the lot. The 12 ft tall garage-like door was open to let natural light illuminate it. It was full of people, most of whom you’d never seen in your life. Everyone from the special effects men, to the boom mic operators, to the assistant director were packed in. Luckily it was a huge area. Angela told you to follow her further, taking you to a separated room down the other end of the stage. This was the room full of actors. God, we’re pretentious. Needing a whole other room to ourselves. Not only did it have the main actors, it had quite a few background actors. Which, admittedly, you were slightly thankful for. If it was just the main actors you’d be the least famous person in the room, and that’s never the best feeling.

Angela let you know that the meeting would be happening very soon. By meeting, she essentially meant the presentation about the film, and how production was going to work and such. And with that flow of information, she left. Leaving you to fend for yourself in a room full of actors.

Who the fuck am I supposed to talk too? Why does everyone seem to know someone already? “Hiya!” A loud, high pitched noise rang behind you. You turned on your heel to see a slightly shorter girl with long, wavy brunette hair.

“Hi?” You returned, not sure if she was mistaking you for someone she knew.

“I’m Allison.” She introduced, extending her hand out.

“Oh, right. I’m (Y/N).” You smiled back, shaking her hand.

“Yea, I’ve actually seen you in quite a few films before. It’s really nice to meet you.”

“Wow, I’m really not used to actually being recognised.” You somewhat laughed, feeling some of the tension leave your shoulders.

“You’re playing the lead role in this film though, aren’t you?” She queried.

“Yea, Elizabeth Baker. I’m still not entirely sure how I landed that. Do you mind if I ask who you’re playing?” You responded.

“Of course! I’m playing Donna, which is one of Lizzie’s school friends.” She explained. It was only a very minor role, with maybe one line of dialogue. But she seemed happy enough to be here.

“Oh, well, thanks for introducing yourself. Now I’ll finally know someone on set.” You joked.

“Do you not know the other actors already?”

“Honestly, no. I haven’t really had the chance to meet anyone yet.”

“You should go over and introduce yourself. You’re the lead role! And maybe you could introduce me to some of them.” She laughed, trying to slightly play off the words she just said. Ah, lovely. Someone trying to use me to their advantage.

“Hm.” You simply smiled. “I think I’ll just grab a coffee first, then maybe I’ll socialise.” You added, taking almost no time to venture away from her.

You moved towards the small tables set up with coffee, tea, water and small snacks. You couldn’t help but notice the divide in the room. There was the big-time actors to one side of the room, and the lesser-known, mainly extras to the other side. You also couldn’t help but notice that you stood on the extras side of the room. In the moment you didn’t particularly care. You spent time fiddling away with the sugar packets, not even making a coffee as you thought about your next move. You needed to go introduce yourself, to at least one person you were going to be acting beside. But who were you supposed to choose? I bet Daniel Craig wasn’t this nervous introducing himself. Fuck, I wouldn’t be if I was James Bond.

Without thinking past James Bond, you walked over to the ‘A-list’ actor area. Fuck it, I’m the greatest. It’s an absolute pleasure to meet me. You repeated, entirely trying to sike yourself up. Daniel Craig, Michael Fassbender, Christian Bale, and Rachel Weisz stood in a small group, chatting amongst themselves. Oh, this is definitely the most threatening group. You thought, diving straight in.

“Hi there,” You interrupted, “I just wanted to introduce myself, I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” You spoke, confidently. Good thing I’m such a good actor.

“Nice to meet you,” Michael responded, his Irish accent thick as he spoke. Daniel, Rachel, and Christian all introduced themselves after, breaking into a conversation about Martin Scorsese.

“I actually haven’t had the chance to meet him. Not properly at least.” You stated, referring back to your audition were you simply spoke in front of him, without him engaging in much conversation.

“He’s great. He’s incredibly intelligent at what he does, but he is really fast paced. He seems to constantly be thinking about the next thing to do.” Daniel began speaking, “But try not to be nervous, he’s pretty good at sensing nerves.” He smirked. Awesome.

“As if the cast wasn’t intimidating enough.” You joked, earning a chuckle from the group. The five of you continued to discuss past acting experiences, and working together on other films and such, with yourself not having much to bring to the conversation. Simply being happy enough to stand with these four god-like actors.

Angela seemingly appeared out of nowhere in front of the crowd of actors, earning a hush amongst the group. She began by thanking everyone for being here, and introducing herself once again as the production manager. She explained the outline of what was going to happen, and when production was due to start, most information of which you’d received in emails earlier. All and all, it was a very quick meeting. I guess it was more about getting to meet everyone. Angela finished her statement and the crowd sparked conversation again, most of the background actors dispersing off. As you were about to say your goodbyes, a smaller, younger gentleman walked up to where you and your newly formed actor friends stood. He handed each of you a small envelope.

“These are from Martin, inviting you to dinner with him tonight. All the information is on the letters. Please RSVP as soon as possible.” He stated, scuttling off to the next group.

“The theatrics,” Christain stated, waving the envelope, “that’s very Scorsese.” He finished.

“Who was that kid?” You asked Michael,

“Would’ve been Martins PA, probably.” He replied, opening his letter. You shrugged and opened yours. The beautiful calligraphy hit you first, each letter individually addressed to each actor. By the looks of it, the main cast of about 12 of you were invited, along with the higher up crew members. It was being held at his property in Hollywood. Well, this should be fun.

“I guess we’ll see you all there.” Daniel stated, earning a cheer of goodbyes from the rest of you as him and Rachel walked off.

“I better head off too,” You smiled, leaving Michael and Christain behind you as you strolled towards the door, continuing to read over your letter. The handwritten note occupied so much of your thought, that you’d forgotten to look where you were walking. All of a sudden, you were stumbling straight into someone's torso. The first sense to hit you was the scent, the only way you could think to describe it was the smell of the wealthy. It was an incredible cologne that you could only imagine A-listers would wear.

“Sorry, love.” His voice sung, the thick British accent very apparent. His larger hands came up to grab your shoulders, steadying your body. His grip was firm against you arms. You could feel the heat of his hands through the thin material of your shirt. You couldn’t help but notice the veins slightly bulging from his tanned forearms. You face moved up so your gaze aligned with his. Brunette curls, light brown eyes, glowing smile, a jawline that looked like it was carved from stone.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was walking.” You awkwardly laughed as Toms taller frame stood right in front of you. Do not freak out.

“Don’t worry about it.” He responded, “I was meaning to come meet you earlier, but I got a little caught up. I’m Tom, by the way.” He added, his grin not leaving his face. Yea, I fucking know.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m (Y/N).” You replied, politely.

“Yea, I’m actually a bit of a fan. I’ve seen some of your work in the past, I’m really glad you got this role.” He added.

“Oh, wow. I thought we we’re going to play it cool, but I’m a huge fan of yours too. I love all the Marvel stuff.” You broke out of your ‘big-time actor’ persona. He chuckled at your comment.

“I see you got an invite, too.” He pointed down at your letter, holding his in his hand too.

“Oh yea. Have you ever done this sort of thing before? Like this whole dinner with the cast thing?”

“Yea, a few times actually. Robert Downey Jr loved doing this stuff for the Marvel cast.” He returned, “with the directors, and the crew and everyone.”

“Right, well I’ve never done all this before. It’s pretty crazy.”

“Yea, I know. The cast of this movie is fucking insane. I’ve never seen so many stars in one room, honestly.” Tom acknowledged. “You seem like you’re holding it all together pretty well.”

“No, I’m just a really good actor, internally I’m absolutely freaking out.” You stated in a joking manner, earning a laugh from Tom. I mean, it’s true.

“That’s great practice for the film them.” He replied, his eyes looking deeper into yours. You could almost feel your knees turning to jelly.

“I’m so sorry to leave you stranded like this, but I really need to get back to my hotel and sort my shit out for this dinner tonight.” You spoke, truthfully.

“Oh, yea. I should probably go do the same. I guess I’ll see you there.”

“Yes, you will. It was really nice to meet you, Tom.” You expressed, your hand moving to rest against his bicep as you cocked your head with a smile. He returned the good-bye and you waltzed out of the stage. Your heart was pumping in your throat and you had to bite down on your lip to suppress your awfully huge grin. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad.

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