#i was late to the film because i thought the party was today

[pissywiser]

pulled an unconsenting all nighter , itd 10 am im feeling bright hapy cheerfula and most of all i am eepy. and i had a oone (1) cup of tea . (i need a shit )

[solecize]

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ten years of being one and the same with jungkook as the country's it couple is the perfect disguise for the reality of a tumultuous relationship hidden behind the scenes.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you welcome your boyfriend back to the country with a surprise party, just as the clock is ticking to say goodbye again. the big day is almost here and enlistment brings couples either one of two things: a ring or a breakup.  𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: idol!jungkook/female idol!reader and fictional versions of various idols 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. idol au, on-and-off relationship, angst, i swear there's fluff, and themes of first love, growing up, struggles with fame, and marriage (ish) 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. portrayal of a toxic couple (implications of emotional abuse and control), infidelity, foul language, substance use, underage drinking, mentions of the covid-19 pandemic, sexually suggestive content  𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. based off of "you're losing me" by taylor swift. this is a fictional portrayal of real-life people that implement some aspects of real-life events. the series is told in non-chronological order. note that the main character is a member of a fictional idol group. more warnings may be added as the story is written. join the taglist here! ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤm.list | next

you say, "i don't understand, " and i say, "i know you don't" we thought a cure would come through in time, now i fear it won't

TODAY’S TOP HEADLINE: bts’ rm, jimin, taehyung and jungkook set to enlist in the coming weeks! ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤautumn 2023

the confrontation   when it rained, it poured and you felt like you haven't seen even a glimpse of the sun in ages. there was a nagging feeling in your gut that it was too far gone, but like everything else for the past ten years, you swallowed it down and swept it under the rug. bad feelings didn’t exist in your relationship. that was the unspoken rule. yet, it was growing more and more difficult to mask the disappointment in your eyes or the frown fighting your lips. today marked the worst of your attempts.

  seoul was unusually calm tonight and it scared you. when you moved to the city ages ago to begin your journey as an idol trainee, it was nothing but intimidating for your meek, pre-teen self. eventually, over time, your love for the city bloomed and it was truthfully because of jungkook. once young teenagers that arrived to seoul alone, you found solace in each other and embraced the change as one. he made you fall in love with seoul the same way he made you fall in love with him. dates, nightclubs, late night adventures, and years worth of moments within the city limits. 

  however, the streets were as hushed as you were, as you gripped your steering wheel like a robot. 

  the decision had been long made and you knew it was going to come around at some point, so there was no use in fighting it. after going without seeing your boyfriend for months, it should have been nothing but pure excitement.

  “you’re awfully quiet,” murmured jungkook, glancing over at you from the passenger seat.

  you were already annoyed to begin with, when he mentioned that he was going to have a driver pick him up from the airport, instead of asking for you. it felt like he didn’t even expect to have you waiting for him, considering the two of you had been apart due to his time working in the united states. you thought he’d be insisting for you to be the first person he saw once he came back. these frustrations were on top of several other things, which you’d been dreading to confront for even longer of a time.

  and then, there was also the velvet box you spotted in the background of one of your facetime calls. you didn’t bring it up, but it was living in your mind everyday since. with jungkook’s big day fast approaching, there were a lot of conflicting ideas in your head.

  you shrugged. “i’ve been filming long hours. not getting that much sleep.”

  the look jungkook gave you read that he knew that you weren’t being a hundred percent honest, but he didn’t say anything. his eyes returned to being fixated on his phone.

  after over ten years of knowing each other, you and jungkook could see through each other like glass. the only problem was that nobody ever wanted to speak up. you feared the glaring possibility of other buried conflict dating further back into the relationship because of this dynamic.

  you didn’t think you deserved the blame for the tension in the air. there were several things in your mind, but jungkook wasn’t exactly a person who could easily mask their emotions. something was off with him, too, and you needed to figure out what it was. you could only hope for the best case scenario because otherwise, it was going to be your worst nightmare. there was no situation you could fathom where his behaviour was a result of an in between. 

  keeping your voice casual, you asked, “who are you texting?”

  “my mom.”

  you held back a sigh - jungkook was never particularly keen on involving you with his family. though you’d been together since he was sixteen, you always felt like he kept you an arm’s reach away from that part of your life and you never understood why.

  “oh. tell her i say hi,” you said and he hummed in response. 

  whilst you weren’t in a talkative mood, it wasn’t like jungkook was doing anything to keep the conversation flowing either. you guys obviously texted and called during his time away, but the present atmosphere was awkward, like there was nothing to talk about after his grand return. you hugged and kissed at the airport, asked how his flight was, and that was that. driving him felt like a business endeavour, rather than welcoming your long-term partner back to the country.

  after a few minutes, jungkook finally looked up from his phone. upon peering out the window, he grew confused and turned to you.

  he questioned, “where are we going? the apartment is in the other direction.”

  “just wait,” you assured, forcing a small smile. “take off your hoodie and put on what i have for you in the backseat.”

  there was a shopping bag sitting behind jungkook’s seat and he reluctantly reached over, revealing a silk ysl shirt that you picked up that very afternoon. sighing, he did as you asked and made the change. you didn’t care to look over at your boyfriend’s shirtless body, too irritated at the curtness of the conversation.

  you just wanted to get to the destination, the heavy silence becoming too much for you. there wasn’t even music on. you found yourself focusing too much on it, as you finally pulled up to the infamous hotel azure. somehow tucked away in the busy songpa district, it is unassuming to the civilian eye, but a well-known name amongst the circles of south korea’s entertainment industry. you didn’t “make it” in entertainment until you attended a party at hotel azure.

  jungkook shifted in his seat. “what is this?” his tone was demanding, which immediately put you off. “the plan was to go home.”

  to be fair, the last time that the two of you were at the azure hotel, jungkook wound up with a bloody nose after getting into it with an not-to-be-named yg idol at one of jackson wang’s wild parties. you weren’t even sure what happened yourself, bleary eyed for the majority of the night with several substances in your body. hotel azure was for idols at the top of the world with everything to lose, a favourite place of yours around 2018. it was now a place that you actively tried to avoid, but made an exception for the special occasion.

  “calm down,” you shot back, not letting him get away with the voice he used. “just wait, i said.”

  “i’m tired, y/n,” jungkook pleaded, as you stopped the car for the valet to take. 

  you ignored him - it wasn’t like it was up to you - and unbuckled your seatbelt, not waiting a second for jungkook. 

  not only did you pick up your boyfriend from the airport, you also spent hours meticulously preparing your appearance for the night. it didn’t seem like jungkook noticed, other than at the airport, when he questioned why you were wearing high heels. 

  you never wore heels unless you were working, but that changed when you met jungkook. he loved it when you wore heels and by the time your respective trainee debts were paid, made it a point. you bought platforms with the anticipation of how your boyfriend would go crazy over them. jungkook gifted you designer jimmy choos and pradas whenever you guys got into a fight. it made you feel your prettiest and he showered you with compliments every time.

  now, he looked at you oddly for it, like you were doing too much.

  jungkook eventually gave up and followed you in without a word, watching you take off your trench coat to reveal a stunning baby pink two-piece dress. the colour glittered under the low lighting of the hotel lobby and the corset accentuated your curves in all the right aways. except, he still did not say a word. this made you frown.

  you handed off your coat to an employee and jungkook did the same. the lobby was empty, but you and jungkook knew exactly where to go, making a beeline for the elevator and pressing the button to move up to the penthouse suite. 

  “why didn’t you warn me about this?” he grumbled under his breath, adjusting his shirt in the mirror.

  because that’s how surprise parties work, you wanted to reply. unfortunately, this was not a surprise party that you wanted to celebrate, so you didn’t even try to keep jungkook excited. you were both quiet, irritable, and only wanted to go home. 

  you said, “this is the part where i cover your eyes and lead you out.”

  jungkook complied and you placed your perfectly manicured hands over his line of vision. other than sharing a hug and kiss earlier, this was the closest you’d physically gotten to your boyfriend in months. your hands were cold and you were close enough that he could hear your breathing - all too uncomfortable. 

  the elevator dinged and you nudged jungkook to step forward. the penthouse’s lights were off, but you could make out the shuffling of feet from behind the kitchen counter. it looked like everything was set up and pristine. then, in just a beat, the entire room lit up and you removed your hands from jungkook’s eyes.

  “SURPRISE!”

  the floor rumbled, voices roaring and bodies popping out from different places - behind pillars, couches and the bar. jungkook’s eyes brightened in a way that you had yet to see since reuniting with him earlier and it made your heart sink. you hadn’t realized how dull his demeanour was around you until something else actually made him smile.

  his closest friends and family gathered in the penthouse and there was a large, golden banner that hung from the walls that said “welcome back jungkook!” the other wall was decorated with another banner, but this one said “good luck rm, v, jimin and jungkook!” 

  jungkook’s older brother was the first one that enveloped him into a bear hug, nearly squeezing the life out of him, then his mom. this was followed by the remainder of his band mates that managed to make the party. you awkwardly stood off to the side, a wide smile plastered on your face to mask your despondence. it seemed like jungkook’s exhaustion only existed when he was sitting in a car with you, as his laughter echoed throughout the room.

  you caught jungkook’s eye and he already knew how you were feeling. while he exchanged words with other friends, it was namjoon who pulled you to the side.

  “hey. you guys did a really great job with the party,” you started, looking around.

  the penthouse of the azure hotel was a thing of beauty, with ceiling high windows that looked over the lights of seoul. everything shone and glimmered - the city skyline, the perfect marble floors, the expensive liquor bottles, and hell, even the perfect teeth of the myriad of a-list south korean celebrities gracing this exclusive party. there wasn’t a wrong way to ever throw a party there, but the group made an extra effort to make jungkook’s homecoming a special one. 

  jungkook was swarmed by several people, all asking about his time in america and how exciting it was. those were the words you used to describe it for him, too, when you sent him off months ago. you watched him take shots with mingyu and eunwoo. 

  namjoon shook his head, “no, no. this wouldn’t be possible without you,” he said and then glanced at jungkook, “and i’m sure he knows it, too.”

  the boys, despite it also serving as a goodbye party before their enlistments, had been helping you plan the surprise for weeks leading up to jungkook’s arrival. it was one of the longest times jungkook had been apart from them and from the country in general, so they wanted to make it extra special. though you were the main mastermind behind the gathering, you initially didn’t want to do it at all. 

  “yeah, i hope so,” you replied, as you poured yourself a glass of white wine. “you guys all deserve it.”

  over the years, jungkook’s band mates slowly became some of your friends, as well. it was somber goodbye for you in all kinds of ways. everyone was preparing to send them off with good luck and high spirits. 

  the boys were also preparing in their own way. you noticed that taehyung and jimin’s girlfriends were missing from the party, which only confirmed your speculations. 

  “it was just bound to happen,” said a voice.

  it was taehyung who joined you and namjoon in a quiet circle at the corner of the living room. all of the boys looked a little bit sad, despite the celebratory atmosphere, but you read a different kind of story in taehyung’s eyes. 

  he smiled with a hint of gloom. “you’re looking around for her, right?”

  as a fellow idol and also a girlfriend to a member of one of the biggest groups in the world, taehyung’s girlfriend grew to become one of your close confidants in the past few years. you guys were polite before, but this connection created a specific bond that couldn’t be understood by anyone else. however, you hadn’t heard from her in a few days and with her absence at taehyung’s goodbye party, you put two and two together. 

  to his side, namjoon clapped a hand on his friend’s back. “sorry, man.”

  “i hope it was cordial,” you mustered up, ignoring the growing heaviness at the pit of your stomach. you could only hope you weren’t next.

  taehyung replied. “she understood, but she wasn’t happy. regardless,” he sighed, “we’re still so young. her career is just blowing up even more, i feel like i’d only be holding her back.” 

  that was the way it went. when enlistment rolled around for most couples, it was either breaking up or a ring. you looked at your feet, not knowing what to say. 

  “jimin also told me that he broke things off with - “

  a loud yelp squeaked from taehyung, who was abruptly jabbed in the side with namjoon’s elbow. the latter cleared his throat and you recognized that look. namjoon only made that face when he pulled the leader card and needed to put someone in their place. you figured that your worries were transparent to those around you.

  namjoon cleared his throat. “not in a chatty mood?”

  while you greeted people during the set-up of the party, you realized that you had yet to actually try socializing. things were awkward with jungkook’s parents, who you long suspected didn’t approve of you for various reasons. in general, most people were interested in chatting with the boys, which you didn’t mind. it was a gathering to send them off, after all.

  “not really. you guys should go mingle with your friends,” you said, taking another sip of your wine. “it’s your party.”

  “i hope i’m not overstepping, but did you and jungkook get in a fight?” taehyung asked.

  you blinked slowly. “no. does it seem like it?”

  “just seems like he’s nervous about something,” he commented and you noticed namjoon glare at him once more, as if to shut up.

  for the first time that night, you felt a glimmer of mixed feelings that left you wondering. why would he be nervous? the big visual forming in your mind was a diamond ring. you and jungkook had contemplated marriage in the past year, but it was also the source of many arguments. you weren’t even sure you wanted to get married now, but your mother had been getting into your ear about you getting older. then, there were your respective companies who lost their shit at the idea. but, what really mattered, was jungkook’s opinion. he seemed to wave it off or change the topic at every opportunity, so your hopes for a ring lived in the back of your mind. 

  despite this, taehyung was right. jungkook looked nervous. he’d been irritated at being dragged to his surprise party - you wondered if it was delusional enough to believe that he had plans for the two of you, instead. 

  for the rest of the night, you continued to keep to yourself. you weren’t lying when you told jungkook you were tired, but you were determined to stay as long as you could and pretend that you and jungkook weren’t stealing mysterious glances at each other for the entire evening. it was obvious and only made you anxious. 

  a few hours later and the party only grew in numbers and in noise. you thought you lost him in the crowd, until you left to refill your nth drink and found him talking to his cousin.

  the two were smiling and laughing, as his cousin appeared to be showing jungkook pictures on his phone. you assumed it was her newborn daughter - she gave birth just two months before her fiance was to be discharged and now that he was back, the wedding was just around the corner. you remembered jungkook telling you that she was proposed to on the day of his enlistment. 

  jungkook caught your eye and he immediately looked away - what the hell was that? he even turned slightly and you couldn’t read his lips. something was going on. you watched him shove his hands in his pockets and you swore you saw the shape of a small square inside.

  eventually, you grew tired of the tension in the air and the music began to make your head pound. the longer you thought about your partner, the greater your anxieties grew. there was a chance you even just although it was late in the year and a fresh sheet of snow adorned the streets of seoul, you decided it was best to step out into the balcony to take some time to breathe. 

  nobody else was there, thankfully, and you let out a shiver when you stepped out. the peppermint air dispelled the haze in your head and in your heart, as taking a deep breath was the greatest relief you felt all night. though your muscles remained tense and you knew you wouldn’t last out in the cold, the balcony was a welcome change.

  you weren’t sure how long you were outside when the door creaked open and just by the footsteps alone, you knew who it was.

  “your guests will miss you,” you said, not even looking behind you.

  at this point, you were hugging yourself to stop shivering. a rustle later and you felt a thick blanket drape over your shoulders, the wool of its make completely enveloping you with much needed warmth. you relaxed your shoulders, but couldn’t look jungkook in the eyes.

  “something’s wrong. tell me.”

  jungkook’s wine stained lips were pulled into a frown and although he hid it well when he was chatting away with his friends and family, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes. he sniffled a few times and you knew why, but you decided to bite your tongue. it was his party and he was an adult who could celebrate whatever way he wanted. it was also clear that neither of you had the energy to argue. instead, to his surprise, you raised an arm and gestured for him to come closer.

  he sidestepped towards you and although you were shorter, let you wrap some of the blanket around him. his cold arm snaked around your waist and you tensed up again at his touch.

  you continued to look out into the skyline. “i was going to say the same for you.”

  “i’m really thankful for the party, love,” he ignored your question and pressed a kiss against your temple.

  you mumbled under your breath, “it wasn’t easy." this was the first time all night that you were comfortable enough to physically touch jungkook and you suspected alcohol played a role in relieving the tension between you two, but it was always going to be easy to fall right back into routine.

  and just like that, you felt a stinging sensation in your eyes. tears welled up and blurred your vision, which only made you turn your head away further from your boyfriend. he caught this immediately, his instincts nothing but natural when it came to you, and pulled you right into his chest. 

  the sound that came out of your mouth sounded nothing like you. the sob was desperate and helpless. it was akin to a toddler who couldn’t do anything by themselves. your voice cracked with each body-shaking sob and you didn’t have the guts to conceal it. your head was buried into jungkook’s new shirt, ruining it, but he only stroked your hair and wrapped the blanket tighter around the two of you.

  “it’s okay. . .” jungkook cooed and for what seemed like the first time in a while, he sounded like himself. 

  it wasn’t like jungkook had undergone a drastic change from his time in america, but it was a gradual shift that you felt over a longer period of time. you attributed to the fact that you were no longer teenagers and things weren’t going to be the same as it did ten, even five years ago. that was what you told yourself, but you weren’t sure why you still held on to the old jungkook you knew.

  in that moment, he sounded like the fifteen year old boy you met in a convenience store again. he sounded like the jungkook who wrote you disgusting love songs that were horrible, but you adored anyway. he sounded like the man who you talked about children and a big house and an annoying dog with. 

  as you found the bravery to finally pull away from jungkook’s comforting embrace, you looked up and saw that future in his eyes. his features softened, but he looked sad. your heart sank once again.

  “you’re not just crying because i’m enlisting, are you?” he finally spoke, just above a whisper. his tone was certain, barely a question - after ten years together, jungkook knew you better than you knew yourself.

  you froze. there was nothing else you could do but shut your eyes tight, pretending that this wasn’t really happening.

  after a beat, you found your voice. “listen. . .we both know what happens after a man enlists. look at taehyung and jimin. look at your cousin.” 

  over the years, you and jungkook had gone through hell and back. you thought the worst day of your life was when dispatch leaked the news that you were dating five years ago, but you were able to recover. you thought it was the worst day of your life when your breakup was witnessed by the entire world, but you were able to recover. you even thought the worst day of your life was when word got out that you and jungkook got back together, effectively proving that you were weak and were the type of girl to crawl back to her ex. you recovered then, as well.

  at the second part of your sentence, you felt jungkook physically tense up.

  “is that why you’ve been acting weird lately?” he replied.

  you don’t know where it came from, but something triggered a spark of anger in you. still, with a tear stained face and a runny nose, you opened your eyes and met his. this was not something you would be able to recover from.

  you said, “it hasn’t just been lately, jungkook. you know exactly what’s on my mind, we’ve been talking - “

  “ - and you know what my answer has been, baby. you know what kind of position i’m in,” he interrupted, breaking apart from your hold and the blanket he brought for you.

  he wasn’t wrong. you did know what kind of position he was in. one of the biggest stars in the world and he had everything to lose, especially with the anxieties looming in the air for him and the rest of his group. every one of them were on their toes as soon as their enlistment dates were finalized, fearing their fade from the spotlight. you and the rest of the world knew that it was bullshit, that the bts was going to be forgotten just because they were going into the military for a few years. 

  marriage would surely ruin that further, right?

  you said, “and you know what position i’m in.”

  the careless joys of your early twenties had come and gone, which left you at the mercy of your mother’s constant talks about marriage. not just her, but other family members and even some of your friends. after all, you and jungkook had been together for ten years and you were pushing thirty sooner or later. 

  you also had your own fears in regard to your career. jungkook once laughed when you expressed your worries about the public no longer finding you young and pretty, but it was a real fear. most girl groups didn’t last more than a few years. many of your contemporaries had long said goodbye to their idol persona and went their separate ways from their band for a new life. you were considered a lucky one to remain with your group and maintain relevance, but for how long? was it time for you to finally settle down? you weren’t granted the same longevity as jungkook’s renowned group and you weren’t bitter about it, but nervous.

  snowflakes began to fall once again and as one fell on your eyelashes, you noticed jungkook’s jaw clench. 

  “we’ve talked about this,” he said and you knew your wandering thoughts about a potential proposal were too good to be true.

  you began, “look, i know that things are different for people like us. . “ but, things were changing. in recent years, you watched several of your peers get married and have children without losing their spot in the limelight. 

  “y/n. . .what made you think i changed my mind?” jungkook sighed, pacing back and forth to calm himself down.

  “i just thought. . .”

  “i’m sorry, but i wasn’t going to propose before my enlistment.” this time, jungkook’s frustrations melted away and there was genuine sadness in his voice. 

  he stepped closer to you and put his hands on your waist. you didn’t know what to say. you really had been pretending that his strange behaviour was because of a hope that seemed impossible now. 

  you took a deep breath. “you never said no. you made it seem like you were considering it.”

  that was what silenced jungkook. it was true, there was never an outright refusal from jungkook. he would say things that implied he would talk to his company again or “with time” it would come. he gave you just enough reassurance, but never confirmation. 

  continuing, you said, “and you even indulged in keeping the fantasy alive with me. you’re sick for talking about honeymoon destinations with me and suggesting songs we could dance to.”

  “hey. i’ve said time ands time again that there is no future where you aren’t by my side,” jungkook tried getting you to look at him, but every time he moved, you turned away. 

  there was no reason for you to make eye contact. you felt like a fool and if you met his eyes, you knew you would just burst into tears again. then, you thought about your conversation earlier with your friends and your vision became wet again.

  “were you planning to break up with me before you enlisted?”

  “what? no,” he responded, but you weren’t convinced. 

  you responded, “it was going to be inevitable, wasn’t it? like jimin and taehyung. you were going to be done with me.”

  this time, jungkook forced you to look at him by the chin and your shoulders dropped. there was a crease in between his eyebrows that you don’t remember seeing even just a year ago. he looked more tired than he did as a rookie with barely survivable living standards. 

  “time really goes by, huh?” you murmured, fighting to keep your voice stable.

  “we were never going to break up, love,” jungkook maintained.

  still, his words didn’t penetrate further than surface level. you were left numb and the chill of winter in seoul had nothing to do with it. you wished that someone would just call jungkook away, but the party inside continued on without him. 

  “you bought a ring. i saw it when we video called.”

  jungkook’s lips parted. you knew it. you knew you weren’t losing your mind. over the last ten years, you made some crazy accusations for all kinds of reasons. this time was different and you saw it on his face.

  even after what seemed like forever, jungkook couldn’t find words to say. the longer he waited to speak, the faster your heart began to race. 

  he rubbed his temples and finally, he spoke. jungkook spoke and you immediately dropped the blanket he brought for you, dashing right back inside. you walked past every single attendee and ignored the few that cried out your name. you didn’t care what it looked like. you just knew you had to get out of there.

  jungkook said there was a ring. he began to open his mouth and explain further, especially when he read the horrified expression on your face, but you wanted no part in it. there was no room for you to think about what that meant. you only saw red.

  you weren’t sure why you wanted a proposal so badly. you knew you didn’t care that much about what your mother wanted and getting married was no solution to the prospects of a dying career. you were second guessing if your wishes for a wedding were even genuine. 

  on the other hand, maybe you intended for the wedding to be a solution to a dying relationship. 

LATEST NEWS: hybe dismisses reports that bts’ jungkook and S.IREN’s nova are engaged, seeking legal action against gossip website that went viral for spreading the false rumour

@butnotmontana @rinkud @kookiescutie @nlr1606 @claireshelby @xtrataerrestrial @whoa-jo @tinyxrose @lavendersugarplum @bangtans-momma @firelcrds @sstrongstyle

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want - Chpt. 3 - Dreams And...

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE) - PLEASE REMEMBER TO CHECK, THIS CHAPTER IS DARKER IN TONE!

PREV - NEXT

Your hands are pruned. It’s quiet in the extravagant bathroom, other than the sound of the tap’s running water and your own shaky breathing. This was all a bit much. Your hands are more than clean now, but you absolutely do not want to go back out there.

You kind of just want to go back into one of the stalls and cry. A core girlhood experience, except you were an adult with a job and taxes. Or, you were. You think you’re some rich scion or something in this dream. Which like, cool, who wants to slave under capitalism anyways?

…You wonder if anyone would notice if you slipped out the window. You’d been gone for a while and nobody had come looking for you, since you’d totally gotten lost trying to find the bathroom. Sure, you were on the third floor, but at this point you were willing to risk it. Even if you couldn’t walk in a straight line right now, much less climb the trellises. For some reason, you could not handle your liquor today like you usually could. But once again, this was all just a very vivid dream, so it wasn’t like you could die.

To punctuate that thought, you hear someone scream.

It cuts off instantly, and then there’s quiet again. You pause, then turn off the tap, listening for any more sound. Drip, drip, drip… you press the tap down again and properly turn it off. Still no noise. Immediately, you realise you are standing directly in a horror film. You live in Gotham for fuck’s sake. It wasn’t an unlikely occurrence. You’d gotten mugged just a few days ago.

And you were alone in the bathrooms. So unbelievably drunk, and alone in the bathrooms. You were actually so dead, it was crazy. A dream, a dream…!

Your head bows, staring into the white porcelain of the sink as you focus hard on your hearing. You don’t think you could hear the party before, but you’re not sure. It’s definitely not there now. You swallow the dry pain in your throat, trying to summon a modicum of courage. Your vision spins.

You slap your wet hands to your face and then blink through your fingers. God. Okay, okay, okay. You can do this. You survived a mugging just last week with only minimal bruising. To convince yourself of your badassery, you dig your fingers into the blemishes, hoping to wake yourself up with the pain. It’s a bad habit but you have lots of those.

…Where’s the pain? Oh god, where’s the pain? Wait, don’t panic, it’s a dream! Of course, you wouldn’t have your bruises in a dream. That made total sense. And you definitely weren’t panicking.

You splash more water on your face. Time to face the music, you drunken moron. If you were going to be in a horror movie, you’d be the final girl of all final girls.

One hand on the sink, you take your heels off. They’re going to get in the way, and the sound of them clicking against the marble will give away your location. Massaging your sore ankles, you try and come up with a game plan. You don’t know what’s going on, and it really could all just be a false alarm, but better safe than sorry and all that. It’s a gala full of some of the richest people on earth, and you’re pretty sure you saw a swat team of security guards at the entrance.

So this was probably a hostage situation or a villain attack. You’d hear more noise if it was a supervillain fighting a superhero downstairs. Then you’ll bet on a hostage situation for now. Depending on who had taken you all hostage, that could be a totally fine situation where you all just end up leaving with lighter purses, or it could be the Scarecrow’s shown up and he’s about to mentally traumatise you. Like you needed any more of that.

Of course, this was all probably still a dream. Maybe if you say it enough times you’ll actually believe it. You’ll just plan ahead in case this is real (which it definitely isn’t). Plus you’d proven you could feel pain in this dream anyway, with all the times you’d slapped yourself. You hoped the fucking Tim Drake didn’t think you were too weird. Because he definitely thought you were weird.

It’s cool. You’re cool. You could handle this. You were a Gotham native after all. Totally cool. You have to force yourself not to gag on your own fear. Totally, absolutely, terrifically cool.

A few deep, calming breaths later, and you’re cracking the door of the lavatory open just an inch. You peer through the crevice, taking another deep breath when you don’t see anyone in the hallway. You push the door open a bit wider, peek your head around it to look the other way. Still empty. Another deep breath, you feel your chest rise and fall, and then you take the first step out onto the wooden floors. You wince at the slight noise the bare sole of your foot makes and hurry over to the long Persian rug to snuffle any more sounds.

And then you’re standing in the middle of the hallway in your ballgown, head swivelling back and forth as you try and catch any minuscule sounds, shoulders bunched up to your ears.

The first thing you need to check is the exits. Since you are on the third floor, and the banquet was on the first, you can assume that they’re well-guarded, but probably far away from you. Still, this is the Wayne Enterprises Tower, and there wasn’t just the party happening tonight. It was mostly empty as you’d seen but there’d been a few people you’d wandered past. They’d all seemed like late-night office workers, and the female janitor you’d bumped into was the one who had told you where the toilet was.

Was the janitor okay? Was that her scream you’d heard? Concentrate, dumbass. On airplanes, they tell you to put your mask on first before you do it for anyone else. The idea was the same here. Save yourself before you can hope to save anyone else.

That was… that was if you even needed saving. This could all still just be your own paranoia. Someone hit their knee on a ridiculously fancy side table or something. Like that scream wasn’t of pure terror. Like it didn’t sound like someone on death’s door.

Concentrate! Okay, check the stairs first. Don’t take the elevator, because you’re not an idiot. Maybe. Hopefully. Slowly but surely you creep your way back towards the entrance to the third level, where both the elevator and the stairs were. There was a map, too. You hadn’t been able to figure it out earlier, but you had a bit more incentive this time.

You make sure to place your feet carefully, aiming for the carpets and rugs. Even if your drunken steps miss half the time, you’re still mostly quiet. Every time you have to walk across a crossing you spend a minute listening, and then peer around every corner too. You’re not sure if you should be running, or if you really should try one of the windows.

Deep breaths. Keep moving. That’s the best course of action. Don’t get caught, but don’t just hide either.

It’s when you’re almost at the third-floor foyer when you hear something. There’s a crash, the sound of something breaking. No voices, though. Still, you can’t convince your body to move for a full minute. There’s a part of you that wants to go hide in an abandoned cubicle and wait, but there’s another part of you that is very aware of the rates of fires in this city. You keep going, taking a longer route to avoid the source of the crashing.

Another noise. A scream. Laughter. Spine-chilling laughter.

Shit, motherfucker. Why the hell did you get smashed at a fucking Wayne gala? Everybody knew the rogues of this city were totally obsessively in love with Bruce Wayne. Especially your own personal worst nightmare. You don’t dare even think his name, lest you summon the bastard.

Was he in Arkham right now? He should be. Like you should be at home in the Narrows getting a good night’s rest. Like you should be wearing dorky Flash pyjamas, not a dress more expensive than your rent.

He should be. It’s not nearly enough.

You realise, suddenly, that you have to make a choice here. You can walk away, pretend you didn’t hear anything, that you can’t hear anything. A woman’s cries, you think. You could leave her, save yourself. Hideaway and let whatever fate she’s facing befall her. Could you do that? Could you even stomach the idea?

In the end, the universe makes the decision for you.

“And who do we have here? What’s a pretty little thing like you doing wandering around?”

You hear your doom in his slimy voice, even though you didn’t hear him sneak up on you. Shaking, you raise your hands into the air, and slowly turn around. You see your doom in the twisted clown mask’s grin. For a second you think it’s really him, but then you notice his dark brown hair and the tanned skin under the mask. God, god, god. It’s a Joker goon. Your literal worst nightmare, given flesh. Is he here? No, no, no- You swallow down the urge to scream, to run, and do your best to keep thinking like a person and not a prey animal.

You feel like one. You think he knows that. You hope he doesn’t.

“Hey Travis, I found another one!” the man calls out, raising his gun to point at you. He jerks it, moving forward, and you turn back around obediently. The gun presses against the back of your head, and you move forward, obediently.

“Shithead, don’t say my name out loud!” another voice replies. You get to see its owner when you come around the corner and find the foyer.

There are five other people here, all tied up. Four seem to be exhausted office worker bees, who just stayed too late on the wrong day, and the last is the janitor who helped you. The kind lady gives you terrified eyes, but she’s the only one not crying among the hostages.

“Man, you worry too much. Like there aren’t hundreds of Travis’s in the city.”

“Just shut up, my god! If we leak info and it gets traced back to us, he’s docking our pay.”

Who’s he? Who’s fucking he?! He can’t be here, right? He fucking can’t be. You can’t, you can’t. God, you're going to vomit right here and now.

“Whatever. Anyway, this is the last person on this floor.”

“Check the feed again, dickhead,” the second one commands, obviously the leader between the two.

The one who caught you groans, and then you hear the sound of fabric shuffling. Is he looking at his phone? You wish you could turn around and look. You don’t dare with the barrel against you.

Your teeth dig into the side of your mouth. So did they have the security feeds? That meant you were doomed from the start. The only other option would’ve been to actually jump out one of the windows. They would’ve probably found you anyway. Hunted you down to meet their quota.

Shit. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. This is looking like a big deal. And everybody knew Joker never left out on his big deal jobs, he enjoyed them too much. He’s probably downstairs demanding the Batman come meet him and have tea or something. Shit.

All of a sudden these goons seem like the much better end of the deal.

“Checked, checked, double-checked, triple-checked… There’s nobody else here,” the man behind you grumbles, and the one in front of you sighs.

“Alright, alright. Bring her over, I’ll tie her up, and then we can blow this joint,” the man says, and you really, really hope he’s not being serious about blowing this place. You’d had enough of explosions, thank you very much. Especially ones organised by the Joker.

The gun digs harshly into your skull, “Well, go on.”

Swallow, swallow down your fear. Don’t let it stop you. You walk forward to the other man, arms in the air shaking. When you’re in reaching distance, the second goon roughly grabs you and shoves you to your knees. He pushes your hands in front of you, not bothering to tie them behind you. You don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

The rope cuts into your skin. It’s going to leave marks, and bruises. The man finishes tying the knot and then pulls you back to your feet. Then he shoves you towards the elevator and turns to start picking up the other hostages. You turn so your back is toward the wall, not willing to have your eyes off the monsters for even a second.

It’s when he’s pushing one of the office workers towards you, that the second man speaks again.

“Hey, the boss said we had to kill one of ‘em.”

What? What did he say?

“Oh yeah, oops.”

The gunshot goes off before you can process the words. Before you can process the gunshot, the janitor’s body is crumpling to the floor. Before you can process her fall, blood is starting to seep from the wound in her chest. Before you can process any of that, the man behind you laughs.

He laughs. He laughs and laughs and laughs.

The janitor lies on the floor, blood seeping into her hair and uniform. You squeeze your eyes tight, tears slipping over the lids. You refuse to look at the wound. At the gaping hole in her chest. And despite yourself, you know why they shot her, not you. Not any of the workers either.

Because she wasn’t worth the cash.

Yesterday, that would’ve been you on the floor. You were a fake wearing a fancy dress, who didn’t belong here at all. Still, they didn’t know that. You didn’t think anybody knew that. Not anyone but you, who had woken up in a world a little to the left.

“I’ll be down in a minute, Trav. I wanna play with this one for a bit,” the shooter says, and all of a sudden you’re thrown back into your body, into your frail mortality. You’re cold, your spine gives a shiver, and your horrified eyes find the wretched clown mask.

Like you said, your doom. You wish you weren’t right all the time.

“No way. She’s one of the high-profilers, we need her,” his leader replies, and you’re desperate to stick by his side. You didn’t think a Joker goon would be your saviour, but here you were.

“I’ll give you five K of my split,” he offers, not willing to let go of it. Of you.

The other one pauses, glances at you assessingly. There’s a glint of something in his eyes, something that tells you you’re not making it out of here unscathed. It’s something you recognise, something you even recognise inside yourself.

It’s greed. And it’s going to kill you. You always knew it would, you just didn’t think it’d be like this.

“Make it seven,” he finally announces, the deal for your soul made without any fuss or fanfare.

“You’re such a hardass. Fine, fine, seven it is.”

“Alright, and only thirty minutes, tops. Not a hair on her head, you understand me?” he says over his shoulder, waggling a finger at his coworker.

The group leaves through the elevator. It dings, and you watch in mute, stunned horror as the other hostages refuse to meet your gaze. As they abandon you to save their own asses. You couldn’t really blame them, as much as you wanted to. You were ready to do the same earlier.

“I think not even a hair is pushing it, right?” the creep says, finger reaching out for said hair. You jerk back out of his reach, an instinctual flinch. He grins, and lets his hand fall back to his side. You take a shaky step backward.

You’re trembling with fear. With the need to get away from this terror, this situation.

He gestures with his gun, pointing back in the direction of the branching hallways.

“Well, go on. Run.”

And God help you, you do.

Spinning on your heel, you flee to the echoing sound of his laughter. Your feet fall rhythmically against the marble floors, the sound of your bare soles far too loud. You can’t even do anything about it. There’s no option for stealth here, only the sort of hunt you’d expect to find in the woods.

Not here in civilised mankind’s territory. But this was Gotham, and the monsters often looked human.

You dart into a large room filled with tiny square cubicles. A call centre or something, a maze of low walls that are too small to hide behind. You keep going, teeth-gritting when his laughter cuts off. He’s taking this seriously, hunting you down. You think he’s done this before. ‘Played’ with people.

You can’t worry about those other poor victims, lest you become his next one.

Another crash, this time to your left. Your head snaps to the side, eyes wide, but when you look there’s only a broken lamp on the floor. You have to swallow down the urge to cry. He is. He’s playing with you. He’s having fun with it.

You keep running, passing by halls and offices and don’t stop running till you can’t. Out of breath. You’re out of breath. You bend over, the stitch in your side too much for you to stand. Why are you out of breath? You can run more than this. You often run more than this when you’re late for your morning train.

What’s going on? What’s happening to you?

A bang, behind you. You spin around. Don’t see anything.

He’s nearby. Right under your nose. You need to keep running, you have to. Through your panting you hear his laughter again, and that’s enough fear to get you moving again. Maybe you were in Arkham, arms strapped to your side and screams wailing down the halls.

You didn’t believe it. No, not in this moment. Not right now, as you run for your life. If you lived through this, you’d probably go back to thinking it was all a dream or a delusion.

But with that monster nearby, there’s nothing this could be but real. With sweat dripping down your neck, smearing your makeup. With the feeling of your heart beating out of your chest, in your ears. With the blind, all-consuming panic you’re in.

He’s real. And he’s coming for you.

You lift your tied hands and press them to your lips, muffling the sound of your harsh breathing and soft sobs. Heart beating out of your ribcage, you push your body even as it screams for you to stop. You’re flagging. Vision’s swimming, and you can feel bile creeping up your throat. You can’t keep doing this. You need to keep doing this.

For a moment, you stop to catch your breath. And he catches you too.

You scream, tugging at the rough grip on him. He swings you around into a wall, and again, you cry out. Side throbbing with pain, singing with it. Still, you don’t stop. Can’t stop. Not safe, not safe, not safe. You push back against him, and he pushes back against you. Your drunken state is no match, and you tumble down onto the carpet. When he laughs, you look up at him, and he down at you.

The goon’s plastic mask merges with the Joker’s mutilated face, until you can’t tell the difference.

You aren’t the type to fight back. It’s just not instinctual to you. But when you hear his belt buckle clack, your foot kicks out before you can even think. You hit him squarely in the stomach, knocking him backward, and then you scramble away from underneath him.

“You bitch!”

He grabs you by the nape of your neck, yanking you backwards. You choke, hands grasping desperately at the grip around your throat, but he offers no relent. You’ve pissed him off. That doesn’t mean you can stop, can give up. You can’t stop fighting. Can’t stop struggling. Can’t stop, can’t stop, can’t stop-

The gun clicks. You freeze.

“Yeah, figured you’d be more obedient if I did that. Now, get up,” his voice is breathy, from the high of the chase or the hit you delivered, you’re not sure.

You hope it’s the latter. You hope this fucker drops and dies, right on the spot. You’re not that lucky, though.

Ah, your hands are hurting again. Not just the one, but both. Maybe you touched something. An allergic reaction of some sort. It shouldn’t be distracting you, it shouldn’t even be noticeable in the situation you’re in but god. The itchy heat is nearly as unbearable as the evil cretin in front of you.

“You think you’re gonna get away with that? I’m so fucking sick and tired of you whores who think you matter anything. You don’t, and I’m going to help you realise that,” he rants. His eyes are red through the tiny slits in the mask. Angry, dangerous, on the edge.

“Please, look I’m sorry,” you stutter out, stinging hands in the air. You want to run, but you think he’ll shoot if you do.

“You’re lucky I don’t fuck corpses.”

No, that doesn’t sound very lucky at all, actually. No, this seems like maybe it might turn out to be the new worst moment of your life. You don’t think it can get much worse than this, than the next moments that will pass. And it’s too much. It’s too, too much. Your palms are itchy and there’s a gun pointed between your eyes and the goon’s licking his lips and oh my god you’re going to die from an allergy before the bullet and-

And you just want it all to stop. You want it so desperately. You want the man in front of you to disappear, to never exist again, to go right down to hell where he belongs. You just want him gone.

Your hands stop hurting. The burning heat disappears. It’s quiet again. You can’t hear him laughing, the awful slick sound of him licking his lips. You can’t feel the cool iron on your forehead, the heat from his body so close. You can’t smell his sweaty stench. Your eyes open.

…There’s no gun. There’s no man.

You crumple to the ground with a relieved sob. Fisted hands lift to your eyes, as big blubbery tears stream down your face. Your shoulders shake with your cries. Your heart is screaming in your chest, trying to beat out of it. He’s gone, somehow. You’re alive, somehow. You’re not dead with a bullet in your brain, somehow. Somehow, somehow, somehow.

An impossibility. It’s an impossibility, and you’re so goddamn grateful for it.

As always, you don’t give yourself long to cry. Even as your tears still fall, even as you lick them off your mouth, tasting salt and lipstick and fear, you push to your feet shakily. You almost fall over with your hands still tied, shouldering the wall next to you for balance. You don’t have time to cry. No time to process what just happened. You need to get to safety.

You creep back into the main area, heart pounding in your ears, breath hiccuping. You don’t know how long it takes for you to get there. Ten minutes, thirty, maybe even an hour. When you try the staircase door, it doesn’t open. You yank on the handle, grab a chair and try and smash it in, but it stands strong. Fuck. You try the elevator as a last-ditch effort, but the buttons don’t respond.

You press your overheated forehead to the cool metal. Okay. Okay. Okay, okay, okay.

You turn around and storm back into the cubicle space, find one at the edge of the room with a clear view of all the doors, and tuck yourself under the desk. Pulling your knees to your chest, you resist the urge to rock yourself like a baby.

And you sit there, and you watch, and you wait. It doesn’t matter how many hours pass, you are not moving from this spot. It doesn’t matter how heavy your lids feel, how the adrenaline leaving your body has you sagging.

You’re not going to sleep. It’s not safe, and you’re not dying today. You’re simply not.\

You’re not allowed to.

-

A hand touches your shoulder, and you snap awake. Your fist slings out at the would-be attacker, but they dodge it smoothly. When you rear up for another, they move back, hands in the air in a show of surrender. Panting, you don’t lower the fist, your vision swimming.

It’s the Joker. But the Joker wouldn’t back up, right? And the Joker isn’t red, he’s green and purple.

It takes a while for the Joker’s pale, laughing face to disappear. But when you blink and he’s gone, you find someone else underneath. A red mask, a man you think you recognise from TV. A vigilante. God, you hated the vigilantes in Gotham.

Not more than the Joker. Not more than him.

The man stays a safe distance away, gloved hands firmly in the air. He’s tall, really tall. Broad-shouldered, scary. But he’s a vigilante, right?

Is he here to save you? Someone should've by now. The bastard's late then.

He says your name, you think. You can’t hear him properly. Wait no, it’s a nickname, one you haven’t heard in years. You could barely remember your mother calling you that as she tucked you in, as she told you she loved you over the phone, as she disappeared from the world entirely.

You hadn’t let anyone call you that since.

How does he know that name? How does this bastard know your name?

“-hurt? Hey, hey. Listen to me, are you hurt anywhere?” his voice is deep and warbled through the red metal mask, his eyes peering down at you through his domino. You just stare at him, eyes wide, barely breathing.

You need to know how he knows. Unconsciously, your hand reaches up to him, and after a moment, he takes it in his own firm grip. It’s awkward, as you’re still sitting half under the desk and he’s trying to stay as far away from you as possible. Still, his hand is warm through the leather, grounding, keeping you from drifting off into panic and fear. Into your worst nightmares come to life.

Because this was real. It didn’t matter that it was impossible, it was real. You simply couldn’t deny it any longer, this was all real.

You stare at this stranger’s gloved hand like it holds the answers to the universe. It might, in the end. It really just might. It wasn’t like the universe was making much sense at the moment.

“She seems fine. Uninjured, if a bit shocked. Doesn’t seem to have a concussion. Hardly responding anyway,” Red Hood speaks, but not to you. An earbud, you think. Superheroes used wiretaps and things like that all the time, right?

If you could even consider Red Hood a superhero. Everybody knew he had his own gang. Of course, even as your very life is being saved, it’s by a morally grey hero who runs around with crowbars and guns. Ah, you’re crying again.

You told yourself a long time ago that you wouldn’t let yourself cry anymore. And you’d managed it, mostly. You think you’ll give yourself a pass for today, just a little one. You hold this stranger’s hand, and you cry.

You just cry. You cry, and you hold the hand of some stranger you hate, because you have to.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

[velocesainz]

Cinema

F1 masterlist | Main masterlist |

Summary: Charles is forced by Carlos to go watch an English movie with him at the theater since you are one of Carlos's best friends, he happens to take quite a liking to you not knowing Carlos's love for you. What will happen when you all of you meet at a house party?

Warnings: smuttyyyy (threesome) minors dni

Pairing: Charles x actress!reader x Carlos

Charles POV:

Carlos is currently in the process of dragging me to one of the biggest theatres in Maranello.

Why?

Because his best friend recently released a new film.

I'm offended that I'm not Carlos's best friend, and also I did not know that Carlos had a girl best friend let alone one who is an actress.

I looked her up on the way to the theatre and turns out she's one of the most famous actresses today and my oh my, was she beautiful.

We got to the theatre and Carlos got us some tickets and popcorn. He rushed me into the theatre and we sat down in our seats as we watched the movie: May December. (Guys please watch it's such a good movie)

That was one hard one to take, vet complex. Yet y/n's acting was perfect and I understood even the most complicated details.

"Mate she's such a good actress and so beautiful! Why haven't you told me about your "best friend" before?" I asked Carlos wondering why he had hidden y/n from my knowledge. As far as I knew we shared all our life stories with eachother.

Carlos shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I don't know mate, I didn't want to tell you because I know you'd find her attractive. I've been in love with her for years and idk, you're someone that everyone easily seems to fall in love with" Carlos confessed. I wasn't so sure that I would be able to keep my hands off of her

"let's go mate, it's getting late" I said to ease the tension.

With that we left the theatre and got back to our hotel rooms. Tomorrow we had a small house party at Pierre's house in Milan so I knew I wouldn't get sleep the next day.

Timeskip

I dressed up for the party, throwing in a simple white button up with blue jeans pairing some jewelry along with it.

As I was driving to Pierre's house my mind wandered to y/n. Her acting skills were amazing and she was so immensely attractive. She had won golden globes and even an Oscar for her remarkable acting.

I arrived at the party realising I'm late as the place was completely packed with people, most of whom I didn't recognise.

I was looking for either Pierre or Carlos but as I was looking my eyes fell on a lean figure in the corner of the room. Y/n.

I walked up to her with my sudden, newly found confidence "hey! My name is Charles, I'm Pierre and Carlos's best friend. I'm a huge fan of your acting" she looked at me wide eyed. Shit. Did I ramble?

"Oh hey! I'm honoured to have you as one of my fans, good to know Carlos has replaced me" she said chuckling. Oh thank god, I thought I fucked up my only chance.

I chatted with y/n for some time until someone came up to us.

"Hola mis mejores amigos" the person said, I froze. It was Carlos.

"hola Carlitos, estaba hablando con el apuesto caballero con el que me reemplazaste" Hello Carlitos, I was just talking to the handsome gentleman you replaced me with.

She spoke in perfect Spanish, god her accent was so hot.

Carlos and her exchanged a few words and then turned to involve me as well into the conversation. How nice of Carlos.

I saw that she spoke french as one of her native languages and decided to take advantage of the fact that Carlos didn't understand a word of French.

"Si jolie fille. Veux-tu retourner dans ma chambre d'hôtel ? Je peux te montrer un bon moment" So pretty girl. Do you want to go to my hotel? I can show you a good time.

She blushed hard, her cheeks turning bright red. Carlos pulled me aside.

"What are you doing mate? I told you I like her and you're going on trying to sleep with her?" Carlos said. How did he understand what I said.

"Carlos she's not your to have. If you want we can share, I see the way she looks at you as well. She likes the both of us, let's show her a good time." I suggested

Carlos nodded and walked back to y/n whispering something in her ear causing her to blush again, got was she beautiful.

All three of us got in my car and drove to my hotel.

As soon as we got there Carlos threw y/n against the wall and started kissing her

I traced her curves with my hands, pressing up behind her. I was sure she could feel my arousal on her ass.

She ogled at Carlos's body before her. I hooked my fingers in the waistband of her linen pants, leaning forward to pepper kisses on her right shoulder. Y/n reached up under the shoulders of Carlos’s shirt and pushed the fabric away. The shirt flowed off his arms, falling to the floor. He reached forward, cupping y/n's cheek before kissing her again.

My kisses on her skin flowed down her back, teeth nipping at her hips through her panties as I slid her pants down.

Carlos POV:

Charles kneeled behind y/n once the material pooled at her feet, kissing upward. I massaged one of her breasts through her bra. Charles stood up to his complete form, kissing her shoulder once more as his hand swept across your skin to her panties.

I felt Charles’s hand slip beneath the material of her panties and graze her clit, going to feel the wetness between her folds. The kiss was broken as a moan left her lips, back arching into Charles. I chuckled looking at how worked up she was.

She squirmed between me and Charles, reaching forward and gripping my shoulder for support.

Charles POV

I had y/n on her toes as I fingered her lazily as if I was playing the piano. She let out soft pants, not giving us the satisfaction of hearing how good we made her feel. We'll make sure those noises come out.

My hand fell to her side as she undid my belt, leaning forward to kiss the flesh softly. Herr fingers slipped the button free, teeth nipping at my right hip. My breath hitched, chest rising and falling as she slowly pulled the zipper down. Y/n reached in, purposefully grazing the obvious erection in my underwear before tugging the jeans down.

“Fucking hell” I breathed, pulling away from her. Her hands brushed my thighs as I stepped away. She grinned at me, knowing that she got underneath my skin.

Carlos was watching the whole thing with his arms crossed and shot me a smile. As soon as I was yanking my jeans and underwear off, Carlos quickly undid his belt and jeans.

“Fuck, I am the luckiest woman in the fucking world,” She breathed, toes curling and eyes almost rolling into the back of her head at the sight of the me and Carlos naked before her. Carlos laid horizontally across the bed. His head was slightly close to the edge. He looked at yher, patting his chest.

“Come have a seat,” Carlos suggested calling y/n over. Carlos pulled her down with no warning, tongue immediately delving within you. She cried out as his tongue circled her clit. She reached forward, gripping my forearm. I waited for her to adjust, in awe at the sight of her. She looked so fucking hot and bothered.

“Ch-Charles, let me, please,” she pleaded me, reaching forward with her free hand and wrapping it around my cock. I widened my eyes, fuck that felt so good. I walked a little more forward. Her gaze was innocent despite her lips wrapping around the tip of my cock. I groaned loudly grabbing her hair. God she was doing so good.

Carlos POV:

I moved to suck on her clit, slipping away one of my hands from her thigh and pressing a finger between her wet folds. She moaned on Charles’s cock, causing him to pull a breath through his teeth. I gently brought my finger in and out of her, adding another.

I continued sucking her clit and I could feel that she was getting close. Her moans grew louder and louder.

“Carlos, please,” she begged, god I needed her so badly.

I stopped pleasuring her and got her off my face guiding her to the edge of the bed.

Charles walked to his dresser removing two condoms and passing me one.

“Thanks, mate,” I said quietly. We both ripped the packaging and slipped the condoms on.

“Come here, cariño,” I said to her. She came to me leaning down and kissing me as she planted a knee on each side of my body. I gladly returned the kiss, one hand on her back, the other lining my cock up with her entrance. The kiss deepened as she allowed me to fill her to the brim.

Second person POV:

Charles watched the both of you, aroused by the scene and watching Carlos fill you with ease. He stepped between Carlos’s parted legs, touching your lower back. He caressed the flesh of your ass, causing you to pull away from Carlos’s kisses and watch Charles. He took himself in his left hand, shifting to level before slowly entering you from behind. Your eyes rolled back, toes curling, and cunt clenching around Carlos as Charles entered you.

Both men gave you a moment to adjust; the sensation wasn’t new, but it was always slightly alarming initially. Charles leaned forward to kiss your shoulder before straightening back, waiting for the cue. You nodded aggressively, eyes squeezed shut as you clutched Carlos’s shoulders. Carlos kissed your temple before both men moved together, Carlos thrusting up into you and Charles’s thrusts pushing you forward. You moaned, ready to come apart right there.

They were slow at first, continuing to let you adjust like the gentlemen they were. Then, when the only noise you made was panting, they changed their pace, their hips snapping against you. You moaned, back arching, which pushed you further into Carlos. Carlos’s hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into your flesh that you knew would leave a mark behind. Charles’s grip was a little looser than Carlos’s on your waist but would still leave faint marks behind.

The pace they set quickly brought you closer and closer to an orgasm, the sensations of both pumping in and out of you overwhelming your body. Carlos thrust up, hips lifting off the bed, and a spot inside you that made you see stars. You gasped, clutching his bicep to the point your nails dug in. The sound of panting and your moans echoed throughout the room, all three bodies glistening with a thin layer of sweat.

“Fuck!” you cried out, soon feeling the tension in your core snap. You squeezed around Carlos, the tightening of your walls pulling him with you, causing his lips to stutter and his grip to tighten. Despite fucking you from behind, the tension of your orgasm was enough to bring Charles to his climax. He rode through his orgasm, slowing his pace until he stopped.

You fell on Carlos, not caring if your full weight was on him. Both of you were a panting, sweating mess. He removed a hand from your waist, running his fingers through his hair. He laid his head back, staring at the ceiling as he tried to get his breathing down to normal. Charles leaned over you, panting, but he kissed your spine. You hummed softly, weakly glancing back at Charles. Your eyes met, and he offered you a gentle smile, rubbing your back before he removed himself from you.

Charles walked to the ensuite bathroom, going to quickly clean up before he joined the both of you in bed. Carlos tilted his head up, stroking your back before gently patting your bum. You sighed, sitting up and letting him hold the condom before you removed yourself. Carlos leaned over, moving some hair that stuck to the sweat on your forehead. He gave it a gentle kiss, stroking your hair in the process.

Charles quickly returned, picking you up from the end of the bed. Carlos stood up and went to the bathroom, patting Charles on the shoulder. He carried you bridal style to his side of the bed, kneeling to place you in the middle before laying down next to you. You lay on your back, staring at the ceiling until Charles was beside you. Your head turned to meet his eyes, a soft smile on both faces. He stroked your hair, and you gently caressed his thigh and knee and all three of you fell asleep.

[justenjoythegossip]

CHRIS & ABBA’S LATEST PR STUNT & THE VISIBLE ENDGAME OF THE PR STRATEGY or… “WILL YOU JUST GET OVER IT ALREADY? IT HAS BEEN TWO FREAKING YEARS”…

Recap of recent events: 

Yesterday was the premiere of Red One in Berlin. Go Germany. Chris didn’t walk the red carpet before Dwayne as he was supposed to, arrived late with his wife, walked the carpet (after almost missing it) without her, played with the precious very ostentatiously for the cameras, she and Chris shared a moment together as they hugged and she gave him a look of... disgust(?). Then they were filmed sitting together for the movie and Chris seemed angry/pissed(?) at her as he gestures, seemingly does a nervous tick by pressing on his glasses and she rolls her head… #couplegoals LOL

Side note: kudos to the PR agent sitting next to Abba for her clapping as it seemingly helped indicate to her she was supposed to applaud her loving husband and also served as miraculous blocking from this angle, to show us only what they want us to see. 

She was always going to be there…

I have been asked many times if I thought Abba would show up at the premiere. And I always answered that I was 50/50 on the matter. When we learned that it was actually Justin who arranged that podcast for her, I was leaning towards no. Because why would she feel the need to go on a podcast no one asked for, if she was going to get the exposure of a big Hollywood premiere soon, right? Then we got the Avengers’ PR stunt where they endorsed Kamala Harris and Chris was flashing his ringless hand so ostentatiously. And then I immediately thought, of course she will be there. Her saying her marriage year was terrible coupled with his non wearing his wedding ring was meant to manipulate his fans into thinking the end was near and like always to add shock value to their next PR stunt. 

And of course she was going to be there, this is actually a big part of why he did this PR stunt in the first place. He wanted the world to know he was a married man and there is no better platform than a Hollywood event to push a narrative… even when you push it as discreetly as you can so that you don’t offend your fandom and the general public any further…

Why did we get a remake of what happened at the Ghosted premiere and what does this mean?

If people remember the Ghosted Premiere, they did not walk together as they infamously made their red carpet debut for the Vanity Fair party. At the time, I theorized that the reason they didn’t was because they wanted to ease his fans in as they knew there was quite a lot of backlash from his fans but also from the general public. I still think that was the case but it’s even more obvious after today’s stunt, as this was a win-win for Chris. He gets to sell the married man brand he is craving so desperately while putting his kinda wife in a corner.  Go Berlin! She gets to come but has to make sure she is not seen too much as her presence could offend his fans and a part of the general public and more importantly have an impact on his movie’s box office and his career more generally speaking. And look how his “fans” take this as a victory… 

But it’s not, it’s just more manipulation and gaslighting on Chris and his team’s part. 

Because clearly all the content of the 2 of them was not meant for the general public but destined to his fandom. And as you can see they didn’t make it to the Just Jared article this time. But they did get to sell the “we are real and private/we are just PR” narrative. Badly like always because it’s the point. 

https://www.justjared.com/2024/11/03/dwayne-johnson-lucy-liu-chris-evans-more-premiere-new-holiday-movie-red-one-in-berlin/

But now we finally get a clearer sense of why Abba felt the need to go on a podcast no one cared about for the first edition of a small festival that got little to no media coverage! She is basically reduced to a prop that has basically no voice or agency but is taken out for minimal lowkey PR stunts when it’s absolutely necessary. But since she a Nazi sex worker, I am guessing we should all be ok with this. But more on that later. 

The latest appearance of the precious ring and its use from a PR standpoint… 

I have already discussed the ring profusely and even recently when he went to the walk of fame for Kevin Feige. Here are a couple of posts where I give my 2 cents about it.

Before I dive into the latest shenanigans with the precious, it’s important to note that playing with wedding rings is very “in” right now. And so what Chris did last night was textbook CAA. Just look at what Jennifer Lopez and Ben Affleck recently did with theirs or even more ridiculously how Dakota flashed her engagement ring during an arranged papwalk. 

Here you can see a video of Chris with the very purposefully loose ring:

As people have pointed out, the ring is way too big, isn’t it? And clearly that’s the whole point since it feeds the “it’s only PR” narrative, isn’t it? But that’s not even the most interesting part about this little clip. Look at where the fans are on this video, then pay closer attention to the camera placement. Can you see how much emphasis the person who is filming (not a fan) is putting on the loose ring and how CURATED this all is?

And now look at Chris playing with his ring so naturally and organically (sarcasm) as the photographers are taking his picture. 

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Chris Evans Army (@cevans_army)

They want you to see it, they are showing it to you, as ostentatiously as it gets. Even when Chris plays the game of “hide the ring”, it is to draw more attention to it while trying to gain sympathy from fans who are so desperate to see a glimmer of regret in his demeanor. 

The programmed obsolescence of Team Real/Team PR and the endgame of the PR strategy 

I have discussed months ago, how this strategy of “divide and conquer” which was symbolized by the discourse and fighting between Team Real and Team PR was just a starting point. A PR strategy can only be understood and appreciated when it can be analyzed in the long run. Those 2 trolling teams were the loud extremist voices that were obnoxious and repulsive enough (in their tone or rhetoric) to drive fans away from them and the narratives they were selling, paving the way for the more reasoned and rational Team Middle. I wrote a post about it if you want to check it out. 

As Team PR and team Real have become completely redundant, all that is left is the narrative Team Middle are pushing. Notice how they purposefully keep blurring the line to disorient (classic manipulation tactics by the way) and make people accept what they are selling. And today they might distract you with the loose ring, the presence of her relatives, the not walking the red carpet together or taking pictures together (but just you wait for the NY premiere as it is just around the corner), their bad body language around each other, the awkwardness and coolness of their exchanges, her cheap outfit while he is dressed in designer clothes by his scientologist and rapist apologist stylist, or they will point out how over the top and fake he was in his reactions at the premiere and I could go on and on… All of this is true BUT it is all a distraction and misdirection. 

As they have pointed out repeatedly, it has been two years, so you should just accept it or move on. The fandom no longer needs your services if you are not capable of enjoying the content they “so kindly” provide for you. They will feed you the crumbs showing how fake it is to appease you and to distract from Chris’ complicity and manipulation as long as you behave. 

The seemingly counterintuitive promoting of this girl by plants, their vicious trolling and what purposes it serves..

So many plants allegedly hate Abba but talk about her constantly. The amount of attention she is getting from them seems incommensurable. Like posting her numbers religiously or obsessing about what she is wearing and so forth.

If it weren’t for them we would hear very little about her. For example, we would have known she was going to do a podcast in her home country only after she posted about it and not a long time before hand. It's also important to note that most of the time she is mentioned, it is in a very negative way as they usually make fun of her and humiliate her. As you know, “there is no such thing as bad publicity”. But in this instance, it’s interesting to ask ourselves why and also what purposes it serves more specifically.

Well, I have just mentioned that bad publicity is still publicly, but another key rule is: know your audience. And obviously Chris’ fandom dislikes her so intensely that talking about her in a negative way, showing animosity towards her is the smart approach to gain the trust of his fans you want to manipulate. The goal here is to paint her as an absolute villain. I am not defending her by the way as she is an awful person but she has 0 power in this story but she makes for a hell of a scapegoat in this shitshow. And indeed, people can easily project all of their disappointment, anger and negative emotions onto her in order to soothe their frustration. 

You see the industry makes you do things you don’t want to do if you let it, talent agencies are as unethical as it gets and will play an awful game if you let them, the PR wife that you selected (or agreed on) might be a POS… but at the end of the day, it’s all a reflection of your own choices and of who you are… 

NB: special thanks to friends and mods who provided me with content and shared with me their smart observations. If I don’t thank you by name it’s to protect you from being blocked LOL

[alexfromjersey]

𝓓𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓼 & 𝓕𝓪𝓷 𝓓𝓮𝓽𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓼

jenna ortega x g!poc

summary: jah submits a demo. jenna gets questioned by hudson. fans start to piece things together

warnings: mature language

a/n: I want to quit my job 🙂. I wish we got paid to write fanfiction. I walked 14,987 steps in one single shift

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

🤰🏻🩵

@modernbussywhip: AIGHT I NEED EVERYONE TO SHUT THE FUCK UP AND PAY ATTENTION TO ME

@ghostridingwhip: aggressive for wat tho?

@modernbussywhip: SSSHHHHHH I HAVE NEW INFO BOUT JAH'S MYSTERY GIRL! I have two potential candidates and please note that one of them is a little bit of a surprise

@highondatgreen: i thought it was clear that I'm Jah's girl

@ghostridingwhip: @highondatgreen whatever u smoke...slide some over here

@ghostridingwhip: @modernbussywhip who are the candidates 👀

@modernbussywhip: ALRIGHT CLASS IS IN SESSION. Now like I said i have two candidates but it could be more cuz we all know Jah is a hoe...a respectable one tho but i digress.

@modernbussywhip: CANDIDATE NUMERO UNO: Stacey Vernon, a popular social media influencer on TikTok. She has a twin sister Diana and with Davis, they all attended school together (as she has mentioned in a TikTok video). They were together at Stacey's birthday party not too long ago and even though Jah shut the rumors down of them being together...we never know when it comes to Shiesty.

@fnthechat: geeeeezzzzz if this Jah's girl....

@behindthespecialk: I love jah but there's no way jah bagged her

@shiestylover: @behindthespecialk: whoa whoa not u doubting my girl's ability to bag bad bitches. you must not seen her roster 😏

@behindthespecialk: HOW?!?! @sheistylover

@shiestylover: she just built like that 😏

@modernbussywhip: LMAOOO while we can admire the untouchable rizz Jah has later....we should move on to candidate numero dos because this one...is a little out there but plausible.

@modernbussywhip: CANDIDATE NUMERO DOS: we all know her, we all love her and it's Miss Jenna Ortega. Now now now before everyone start think pieces just look at my evidence ok come come....evidence number one back when the Scream 6 premiere happened Jah accompanied Davis to it. I'm 95% sure that's where they first met because Jah didn't go to Canada while Davis was filming Scream 6. 1/4

@modernbussywhip: we all saw jenna appear in Jah's vlog...the eye contact, the sexual tension, everything was there between them. But fast forward a couple of hours later, a fan posted a pic with jenna who was at a restaurant and in the pic u can see a tattooed arm and it's the same tattoos Jah has! 2/4

@modernbussywhip: CONTINUE TO WALK WITH ME! Fast forward more, they follow each other on Instagram and as a jenna fan also...that girl avoids that app like the bubonic plague EXCEPT for when Jah posts...every single post of jah has a jenna like...i don't think jenna even likes her mother's posts so for her to only be on Instagram liking Jah's posts....my spidey senses are tingling 3/4

@modernbussywhip: ALMOST DONE! now we always mess with jah on her Reddit so lately it's been nothing but pics and edits of jenna on it...NOT ONCE has she told anyone to stop sending pics and edits of jenna. AND every time she looks at one...her eyes lights up and she starts to smile and blush! Plus after the Met Gala, Jenna stayed in New York...why did she stay in New York?? Jenna's from Cali across the fucking country and she was seen around the Bronx area....YALL NOT FOOLING ME! 4/4

@fnthechat: if jah managed to bag the baddiest scream queen in existence...imma need her to write a book about how to generate THAT much rizz

@ghostridingwhip: fr...that's like level 100 rizz...past Duke Dennis level of rizz

🤰🏻🩵

"Man this is the fucking FIFTH studio I called today and none of them got availability tonight" You groaned out of frustration.

"Why you wait until the last minute to call these studios?" Delyse questioned.

"Well I just signed up for the contest. It was a spur of the moment thing I didn’t really think it through." You said.

Delyse hummed in response and turned her attention back to the food on the stove.

"We can see if Kenny still got his home studio. I think he still live on 33rd" Davis said.

"Bet let's go. We'll be back Ma" You said to your mother and left with Davis.

"You got a song you gonna record?" Davis asked.

"Yeah I wrote it a long time ago. I made the beat and everything" You smiled.

Soon the two of you made it to Kenny's house. You walk into the building and climb up the three flights of stairs, remembering that his elevator never worked. You got to his door and knocked on it.

You waited patiently and slightly out of breath. You knocked again, "Yo Kenny it's me Jah."

Suddenly, the door was ripped opened and a furious looking woman stood there with a crying baby on her hip.

"Uh is Kenny here?" You asked.

The woman laughed sadistically, "Of course you're looking for Kenny. Kenny left four months ago with a skank from Brooklyn."

You and Davis looked at each other stuck on what to say.

"Um...you don't happen to still have his studio equipment?" You asked carefully.

"Nope. I burned it. I burned everything of his" The woman replied.

"Okay thanks" You both gave her a small smile and walked away from Kenny's former apartment. The two of you left the building with you feeling utterly defeated.

"What the fuck am I gonna do? I have to submit this demo by 11:59 tonight" You sighed.

"Don't stress bruh we gon' figure something out. Trust" Davis reassured you. You nodded and took a deep breath in to calm your body down.

🤰🏻🩵

London, England

1:23 am

Jenna had just got to her temporary home after a long day of filming. She was exhausted and was glad she had the day off so she can rest properly. She pulled her shoes off and placed her purse on the table.

Just as she was about to sit on the couch, a knock is at her door.

She internally screams before she walks to the door and opens it to reveal Hudson.

Jenna sighed, "What do you want Hudson?"

"I...just wanted to check in on you. I know you've been working hard which could be harmful to the baby" Hudson said nervously.

"Now you care about me and my baby" Jenna said and raised her eyebrow in suspicious at the boy.

"I always cared about you Jenna. If I didn't I wouldn't be here right now" Hudson replied.

"If you cared about me you wouldn't have told my family about me being pregnant. That wasn't something someone who cared about me would do" Jenna said and crossed her arms over her chest.

"You're right. I shouldn't have done that, it wasn't my place to do that and I sincerely apologize" Hudson said.

Jenna hummed in response, not really believing his words.

Hudson sighed and scratched the back of his neck, "I truly am sorry and I regret doing it. I just...I just wanted to check on you after everything that happened with Neil on the plane."

At the mention of the male, Jenna tensed. She was doing good with pushing him out of her thoughts. Instead, choosing to focus on her filming. She couldn't and won't let him control her...not anymore. She deserved to be happy.

"I'm fine. I'll handle it" Jenna lied.

Hudson opened his mouth to say something but decided against it after seeing the look on her face.

"Okay...I'll uh...see you tomorrow" Hudson said and walked away from her door. Jenna shut the door after he left and sat on her couch. She was stressed and that wasn't good for her or the baby...she needed to relieve some stress.

Hollywood 🤰🏻:

i need help

NYC 🩵:

with 👀

Hollywood 🤰🏻:

im stressed

NYC 🩵:

well taking deep breaths and meditating i heard is a good source of stress relief

Hollywood 🤰🏻:

NYC 🩵:

was that not the right thing to do?

Hollywood 🤰🏻:

nope

NYC 🩵:

ah shit

WAIT

😏😏😏😏😏😏

i know what u want

🤤🤤🤤 vegan food looks bomb don't ya agree

Hollywood 🤰🏻:

I hate you with everything in me 😂

NYC 🩵:

💀💀💀 wym? wat i do? is that not right also?!?

Hollywood 🤰🏻:

you know that's not what i want

NYC 🩵:

what u want then

Hollywood 🤰🏻:

you know

NYC 🩵:

i dont know ms ortega

not a mind reader

use your words

A chill went through Jenna's body as she read the message, imagining you actually saying those words to her...under different circumstances.

Hollywood 🤰🏻:

don't say that

it makes it harder when you say things like that

NYC 🩵:

😂😂😂😂

ain't it like almost 2 am or something over there

Hollywood 🤰🏻:

no...

NYC 🩵:

nice try

go to sleep

goodnight my honey bunches of oats 😘🥰

Hollywood 🤰🏻:

you're annoying 😒

Jenna groaned and placed her phone down next to her. She needed to eat, shower, and sleep. But before she could even attempt to start, her phone dinged again. She grabbed it and opened the message from you, she took a sharp inhale of air.

NYC 🩵:

word?

*attachment: 1 image*

It was picture of you in the mirror with your head titled to the side and tongue stretched out your mouth. Your tongue was naturally long, almost reaching to your chin. But what also caught her eyes was your hand placement which was grabbing your genitalia through your gray sweatpants. That's all Jenna needed.

Hollywood 🤰🏻:

i take back what i said

🤰🏻🩵

You laughed at Jenna's message and fixed yourself before walking out the bathroom. You and Davis got back to your Mother's house defeated from the lack of progress in finding a studio.

You don't know how you were going to finished this demo and submit it in 4 hours.

A knock at the door grabbed your attention, you watched as your mother walks to the door and cracks it open.

"Hey Leon" Delyse smiled brightly at the sight of the man.

"Hey Del, how you doing?" Leon gave her a smile back.

"I'm good just cooking for these clingy kids" Delyse answered and opened the door wider for Leon to see you and Davis.

"Hey Mr. Greenhill" You and Davis simultaneously greeted the older man. Leon chuckled and waved at them.

"Oh I knew I smelled something delicious. Man I missed smelling your cooking reminds me of the old days" Leon flattered.

Delyse let out a little giggle, "Yeah the old days."

The two adults stood in the doorway looking at each other basking in the comfortable silence. Meanwhile, you and Davis looked at each other before looking back at the older adults.

"I...uh just wanted to stop by and say hello. I don't wanna intrude anymore than I already have" Leon smiled at Delyse.

"No, no, no intruding...do you want a plate?" Delyse boldly asked.

It took a moment for Leon to come up with a response but eventually he did, "Uh yeah sure."

The older gentleman walked into the house and Delyse closed the door behind him. Leon pulled off his cap and held it in his hands. He sat next to you at the end of the table.

"How you guys doing?" Leon politely said to you and Davis.

"Eh" You shrugged.

"Eh? Why eh?" Leon questioned.

"Jah signed up for this music competition. Winner gets a five million dollar record deal with Passion Records. The contestants must submit a demo by 11:59 p.m tonight but we haven't found a studio all week" Davis explained.

"And I tried recording it on my phone but the audio is all grainy and hard to hear" You sighed.

"Hmm...can you sing the song you are going to submit?" Leon questioned.

You and Davis glanced at each other again but Davis just shrugged. You scrolled to the notes app and pulled the beat of the song you are going to use.

"Rollin' through with stacks, it's easy, money rainin' down, just like a storm, I got the riches-" You get interrupted by Leon pausing the beat on your phone.

"No" Leon said.

"No? What you mean no? It's a good song" You scoffed.

"Yeah for the early 2015 era when singing about money like that could get you hits. It's 2023 now, people want to hear something different something unique. If I was a judge and I heard that...I would think you're just hopping on the trendy music hoping for yours to be the hit. But you don't realize that everyone is thinking the same thing as you. The only way for you to be looked at twice is if you stand out. Let the lyrics come from within you, come from your heart" Leon explained to you.

Delyse then comes from the kitchen with a plastic bag with aluminum foiled wrapped plates inside.

"Here you go" Delyse smiled and handed Leon the bag.

"Thank you. I really appreciate this Delyse" Leon smiled at her grateful. He stood up from the table and grabbed his cap.

"Once you find those lyrics, come and find me on Southern BLVD but hurry though you got four hours left" Leon said and left the house.

Meanwhile, you sat stuck at the dining room table. Replaying the words Leon said, basically calling your song shit. It stung but deep down you knew he was right. The song didn't feel like you, it felt like a 14 year old wrote it and it wasn't your style.

You glanced at the clock on the wall as you grabbed a pen and paper. 7:48 p.m. Your eyes then glanced down to your phone and an unopened message from Jenna.

Hollywood 🤰🏻:

you have to be the greatest partner alive 😏

"Have to be..." You muttered to yourself. Instantly, your hand starts to move by itself as you write down the lyrics to your new song.

Let the lyrics come from your heart.

🤰🏻🩵

Two hours later, you finally finished and made your way to Southern BLVD with Davis tagging along.

"Why Southern BLVD though? What's here besides crackheads and prostitutes?" Davis commented.

The two of you continued walking down the block until you start to hear the sound of music. The closer you got to the corner, the louder and clearer the music became. It was street drummers and Leon was in the middle of them playing the electric guitar. You and Davis watched in amazement as he kept up with the drummers until they finished their last cord together.

The small amount of people that were gathered applauded them and a couple gave a few dollars before walking away.

"Yo I ain't know you could play the guitar Mr. Greenhill" Davis said.

Leon chuckled, "I'm a man with many talents son." The older male turned to you.

"I'm assuming you got something better with you this time" Leon teased.

You laughed, "Yeah I do. Wrote it from the heart like you said."

"Alright, well you better warm up that voice. You got a song to perform" Leon smiled and patted your back.

"Wait what? Right now? In public?" You questioned.

"Uh yeah. You need to submit that demo in two hours. I checked to see if you submit a live version of your demo and it said you could so get a move on" Leon said and stepped to the side.

"I don't got a beat though I just have the lyrics" You said. You were really trying your hardest not to perform in front of people severely underprepared.

"Don't worry about that" Leon said and placed the guitar over his shoulder.

Leon then played a cord on the guitar, soon the bucket drummer started feeling the vibe and matched the cord Leon was playing. Then you heard someone sweeping from behind you, it surprisingly also matched with everyone. You start to nod your head, feeling the rhythm and you grabbed the beat up microphone from the ground.

Davis pulled out his phone to start recording you.

"Can't wait for you to get home, we ain't got to go nowhere. Airplane on my phone, it can wait til the morning. I can't fathom why you choose me out billions but I'll take it" You sung. You felt your eyes close as you got lost into the music.

Soon, you finished off the song to a large crowd cheering and clapping at your performance.

"I told you let the lyrics come from your heart. You made magic tonight Jah, take pride of your work" Leon educated you.

You nodded at him and walked over to Davis who was fiddling with his phone.

"And submitted" Davis smiled at you as he submitted the demo on the competition website.

"Hard part is over for now. Now we wait" You exhaled deeply.

a/n: if you put a buck in my cup I will shut the fuck up… but you ain’t gotta be a baller to give me a motherfucking dollar…

taglist: @grandpatrolnut @raven-ss @fanboy7794 @morganismspam23 @cinffy23 @darklron @cheesybacon1 @octavias-next-meat-bite @playboysaleen @niqmandu @zaclewiss @yescruzzzzzzz @silentfor @gemz5 @alwaysdangerouschild @onceblinkarmyandmore @melonfruit442 @zataracloud @nepobaby08 @jennasslut @rimaybank @jaewu @j3nc0re @fillthwvoid

[absolutebl]

I Feel You Linger In the Air

You ready for this?

The quickest of quick thoughts: I loved this show and hated the ending, but not for the reason you think.

This is gonna be one of my big meta beast-sized posts, skip to the end for the final review.

Some Historical Context for I Feel You Linger In The Air - Thailand 1925-1932

I love history and so here's some info that any Thai watcher would likely know, but the rest of us might not... ready?

The Historical Stage:

Burma (now Myanmar) to the west is occupied by the British.

The French hold Vietnam to the east.

Everyone is bickering over what would become Cambodia & Laos.

China occasionally gets involved from the North (also, lots of immigrants from China at this time accounting for a large percentage of the merchant/middle class)

Eventually, Japan would invade during WWII.

In part, The Kingdom of Siam was kept a "neutral" party because none of the surrounding colonial powers wanted to risk offending any of the other players in the area.

Siam re-negotiated sovereignty in 1920 (from USA) and in 1925 (from France & Britain). But during the time of this show (late 1929) it was back to it's customary type-rope balancing act of extreme diplomacy with the allied western colonial powers that surrounded it.

Recognizing that Thailand was never colonized (although it was invaded), it's boarders were constantly nibbled at and it was "ambassador-occupied" off and on by westerners whose military backing and exploitive business concerns simply outmatched the monarchy, especially in the technology department (as well as by reputation on the global stage at the time).

In other words, the farang in this show (James & Robert) were always gonna be both the baddies and the power players of the narrative. (Farang is the Thai word for non-Thai's of European descent, the word means guava.)

The king of Siam at the time (Vajiravudh AKA Rama VI) was initially somewhat popular but also regarded as overly extravagant since Siam had been hit by a major postwar recession in 1919. It should also be noted that King Vajiravudh had no son because he was most likely gay (which at the time did not much concern the Siamese popular opinion, except that it undermined the stability of the monarchy leaving it without an heir).

He "died suddenly" in 1925 (age 44) with the monarchy weakened and succession handed off to his younger brother.

In 1932 a small circle of the rising bourgeoisie (all of whom had studied in Europe, mostly Paris), supported by some military, seized power from the monarchy in a practically nonviolent Siamese Revolution installing a constitutional monarchy. This is mentioned in IFYLITA in the last few episodes but did not (apparently) appear in the original novel.

Siam would then go through:

dictatorship,

WWII,

Japanese invasion,

Allied occupation,

democratic elections,

military junta,

the Indochina wars,

communist insurgency,

more democracy and popularization movements,

multiple coups,

more junta,

more monarchy,

eventually leading us to the somewhat chaotic insanity of Thai politics we have today. (Which is, frankly, a mix of monarchy, junta, democracy, egocentric popularism, and bribery.)

The Filming of I Fell You Linger in the Air

The director if this show, Tee Bundit (Hidden Agenda, Step by Step, Lovely Writer, TharnType), has never particularly impressed or offended me as a director. I would have called him simply "workmanlike" in execution: not offensive, serviceable.

So much so that I spent some time hunting for info on IFYLITA's cinematographer (who remains uncredited on MDL) because this one, of all Tee's pantheon, is ultra stylish. It, frankly, felt too good for him.

Specifically, there is a repeated visual motif in intimacy scenes of either Yai or Jom being filmed from behind a screen/drape/curtain making them seem more translucent, like a ghost or spirit. While the other half of the pair is filmed with sharp clarity. In the first half of the series this is more likely to be Yai (an unknown and mysterious element), as the show progresses, it's more likely to be Jom (the person outside of place and time, destined to vanish all together). This cleverly conveys story, tension, and foreshadow (future shadow?)

Occasionally we shift over so they both become obscured and then clear again.

This stylized version of dirty framing and filters is used to foreshadow and then constantly remind us about that Jom slipped (and is slipping) through time and the disconnect that causes to his sense of reality and purpose, and to his burgeoning relationship.

For example, the scene where Yai is drunk and asleep in his bed. The first time Jom is sitting in a chair drawing him. Yai is blurry behind the screen while Jom is solid and sharp.

This filming technique combined with dirty and peekaboo framing is being used to give the watchers the impression of looking at something we maybe shouldn't, like we are being creepy and intruding on their private time. After all, they can see EACH OTHER clearly, it's only us who have the visual impairment.

This gives us a sense of doom and discomfort and slight sensation that we shouldn't be there. We shouldn't be watching. But ALSO that we too are outside of time, filtered by the future.

In other words his sense of displacement is being used to trigger ours visually.

It's all quite clever.

It's both beautiful and atmospheric and discomforting and touch stressful. Meaning that it is ALSO a visual vehicle to drive narrative tension. As effective as scary music, perhaps more so in this show (since I personally found the musical motifs and refrains somewhat overused.)

Linguistic corner

The word for reflection and shadow is the same in Thai.

Note on the por/phor/phô honorific in Thai

I have not encountered it before in BL. I am indebted to @embraceyourfandom for the following information;

Phô is a paternal honorific, luang phô is used for respected monks. It basically means father. And is oft seen as male honorific for village elders. It's also used as a male prefix in the names of several occupations like:

พ่อครัว phô khrua (khrúa= kitchen -> chef)

พ่อค้า phô khá (khá= trade -> merchant)

พ่อมด phô mót (mót= person of occult knowledge -> wizard)

พ่อบ้าน phô bân (bân =house -> butler) - most relevant

So, Yai's use is probubly foreshadowing that Jom will be a butler for his house, and is primitively referring to him with this title.

All that said, phô can also be used by a "man who is older/higher on hierarchy to refer to a younger/lower on hierarchy man with intimacy and/or affection."

I think all this has to do with Jom's demonstration of education. Yai figured out early on that one of the reasons Jom doesn't belong and cannot fit in with the servants is that he is more educated than a peasant (of this time period), which for Yai adds up to him being originally from a higher status and possibly wealthy family, especially since Jom speaks English and has travelled (he has a non-northern accent).

There is very little Thai middle class at the beginning of the 1920s since trade is being dominated/dictated by the West, or Chinese merchant operations, and Siam is a monarchy. So for a nationalize Thai citizen educated means military, landed gentry with trade operations (like Yai), royal/political/diplomatic connections, or... none of the above. This changes, especially in the south, throughout this decade (as it did in other parts of the world). So there is a rising bourgeoisie going on in the background but it's not that obvious in Chang Mai at this time.

What Jom's educated lack of status means to Yai is that Jom's family either got wiped out or politically disenfranchised possibly as part of the 1912 attempted coups (or even WWI)? This would be mystifying for Yai because Jom doesn't act like he comes from a military family at all. So his background and status is very confusing for Yai, but Yai does know one thing...

Jom is NOT lower class by the standards of Yai's temporal worldview and existence.

For a young man to be educated and yet entirely alone is very dangerous and suspicious. Also, let's be clear, Jom doesn't look or act like a laborer. He red flags "cultured" all over the place.

Yai is paternalistic and caring towards Jom out the gate because Yai has a big ol'crush but also because he recognizes "his own" is trying to survive while isolated and scared.

Yai wants to rescue Jom. Yai is an ineffectual 20 year old gay intellectual. But poor thing sure tries.

Let's Talk About How I Felt About I Feel You Linger in the Air

The historical aspect was great.

I adore historical romances and we almost never get them in BL. I was always gonna be biased towards this show. (As indeed I am towards Nobleman Ryu's Wedding, Tinted with You, and To Sir With Love.) Aside from some classic Thai BL production issues (less than normal, this is very high production value for Thailand) and my issues around the sound track and repetitive repriens (which frankly were more noticeable because I binged the last half) I have no complaints on that score (heh heh).

The surrounding support cast were all quite good and we even got us some lesbians!

The emotional and narrative tensions were excellent.

Any issues I had with pacing came from focus on characters that didn't interest me, but probubly did interest others. I wasn’t wild or particularly interested in the family drama or the side characters/couples, but they were necessary to make this a fully fleshed story with historical context and to give Yai much needed characterization. Also this use of a ensemble cast is very close to Thailand's lakorn heart, even thought this one had way less scenery chewing ludicrous soapy drama (thank heavens).

I was delighted that external threat, stressors, and conflict drove this plot. That's refreshing in BL.

I have no arguments with the chemistry and kisses and sex scenes were tasteful and lovely, occasionally even heart-wrenching, and it's nice to see Thailand especially use physical intimacy to drive plot, and not the other way around.

I love historicals partly because every tiny touch can have such lingering significance, they're very elegant in their chaste physicality. This show didn't need to move into higher heat, but I'm grateful it did because even that was very well done. Thai BLs can often feel clumsy around intimacy, but not this one.

The final sex scene before Jom and Yai separate forever utilizes the ubiquitous director's-favorite-romantic-moments-flashbacks (required of all Asian romance dramas) but with acceleration and tension driven by the noises of sex, which I've never seen/heard done before. In other words: climax of sex = climax of the romance story, I see what you did there, Tee. Clever. Very clever. Bit on the nose… erm… on the… well you know what I mean.

Like all Thai BLs this wasn’t perfect, but for me this is as close as Thai BL gets to high quality romance and that’s what I want the most from my drama watching experience (if not necessarily my Thai BL experience).

But... and you knew the but was coming didn't you?

I absolutely hated the ending.

It wasn't sad, don't worry, but it also wasn't good.

There is a long drawn out separations sequence and then Jom returns to the present, drowning from a car accident. Jom is "rescued" by an moustachioed iteration of Yai from the distant past (who we met once before) and then wakes in hospital. Some time later, Jom returns to the house in Chang Mai where Yai turns up and they reunite.

The end.

There is a stinger featuring Jom once more hurled back in time, only further, meeting the warrior mustache Yai once more.

Okay, that's all I knew and all I saw.

Confused? So was I.

If this had been a regular time travel romance: Yai would have been the EMT or doctor attending Jom when he woke up and their "this time period" romance would commence. With either shared memories, or not.

Had this been set up for audience comprehension in line with the original novel, we should have had flashbacks from both Present Yai (he's not the same one, as it turns out) and deep-past Moustache Yai interwoven throughout the series. Preferably with some focus on Present Yai's quest for reunion with Present Jom AND Present Yai's own experience with visions and memory of his past lives.

A full explanation of the ending is here. This explanation of the 3 different Yais makes me like our ending more. But I shouldn't need to read Cliff's notes from some random y-novel reading fan on Tumblr to understand what's going on in a series!

There is supposedly a special happening with Jom + Present Yai.

There was unquestionably a failure in adaptation in the finale of this show.

As a fan and watcher, what I actually felt was deeply confused and hurt.

I also felt that this was a disingenuous un-earned throw away happy ending, since I had no idea who this new Present Yai was and no investment in his character. I simply didn't believe he was the same Yai (Bright is too good an actor, he was clearly a different older personality).

So the fact remains that past Yai, our Yai, the 20 year old boy we grew to understand and love, is abandoned in the past to suffer alone for the rest of his life. And THAT is an unhappy ending for one half of my beloved pair. Yes Jom gets a new Yai in the present day, but it's not the same Yai. They have no developed relationship, and Jom is doomed to leave even this new Yai and slide into the past once more. That's barely even happy for now for Jom's character.

As a result of my deep sadness for 20-year-old Yai in particular, I'm not going to be able to rewatch this show. The whole thing was rendered not just confusing but the opposite of comforting by the final 15 minutes. I'm tempted to dock it two whole points - one for the ending and the other for the lack of rewatch potential.

But the first 11.5 eps were SO GOOD.

This is one of the only times where I am actually hoping for a second season, while simultaneously being wary of the screen writing and production team's capacity to give us a satisfying one.

Industry wise? I honestly don't think we can hope too hard for a full season 2. This was an expensive show with flawed/limited distribution and little sponsorship. I don't see how they'll get funding for a second season. Unless we see this show up on like Netflix or Viki, I urge you not to hope too hard and be disappointed.

In all honestly?

I started typing up this blog post thinking Thailand was finally, after 5 years, going to earn another 10/10 from me but I just can't in good conscious give it that. It's been days and I'm still upset about that last episode.

And Now My Quick Pitch Review

I truly loved this time travel romance. IFYLITA is an exquisite BL, from filming techniques to narrative framework (much like Until We Meet Again). Steeped in history and family drama it edges into lakorn (but no as much as To Sir With Love and with way less scenery chewing). This is an elegant and classy BL... from Thailand which normally doesn't even try for classy. The main couple (both as a pair and individuals) were excellent, particularly Bright (Yai) whose eye-work acting style is a personal favorite of mine. Pity about the ending. Oh it wasn’t that sad but it wasn’t good either. This show should easily have earned a 10 from me except that it fumbled the… erm… balls. Argh. Whatever. 9/10

(source)

This post is also in My Drama List as a review.

[supernovafics]

series masterlist | last part — final part

pairing: modern!actor!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3.1k words

warnings: explicit language, angst

summary: you and steve finally have the long overdue conversation that probably should've happened days before filming ended and not at the wrap party. but better late than never, right?

CHAPTER SEVEN | ❝𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒃𝒚𝒆❞

“We’re in the home stretch. Tomorrow’s it.”

It was a bit difficult to pinpoint what exactly Jessie’s words did to you at that moment. On one hand, you were happy that filming would be done tomorrow because it was always satisfying seeing all of the hard work that had been done by the cast and crew get wrapped up in what felt like a pretty bow. 

And then on the other hand, from a more personal standpoint, it was hard to feel truly happy about it all because of where things currently were with you and Steve; this weird and distant place that when you thought about it too hard only confused you. You had the strongest feeling that you wouldn’t see him again, or even simply talk to him, once filming was done, and although you liked to pretend that that didn’t matter to you, you still found it hard to make peace with that fact. 

You took a long sip from your morning coffee and decided not to think about him right then. 

Jessie continued on. “And depending on how today goes, we might even be able to end a bit early tomorrow.”

The two of you were currently walking to the complete other side of set because a scene was being filmed in twenty minutes and since you weren’t needed anywhere else right then, you decided to watch.

“That’s great,” You said, nodding at her words. 

“Anyway, though, I feel like I’ve barely gotten to see you lately so I haven’t been able to tell you this, but you’ve been doing so fucking great these past three months,” She told you before taking a bite from the bagel she had in hand. “I have no idea what I would do if you weren’t coming to Europe next month.”

You let the happiness that Jessie’s words managed to hit you with wash over you— it was a nice contrast from the sadness you’d been feeling lately that you masked as indifference— and you fully embraced her words. As that next stage started getting closer you felt more and more excited for it. You were ready to be in a completely different place, far away from where it felt like your personal life was on somewhat of a downward spiral. Over the past few days, you’d come to the conclusion that you were better off keeping work as your sole priority. 

Although it had actually been simple finding some sort of work-life balance when your and Steve’s “arrangement” started and most of your evenings and nights became filled with him— you realized that you didn’t have to fully consume yourself in your work to still be good at it, and everything Jessie had just said to you only further confirmed that— now you didn’t care about having any sort of balance. Because focusing only on your current job and also what you’d be doing next in Europe made it easier to not think about anything else. And that had especially been useful this past week because you truly didn’t want to think about anything aside from work— not about Steve and how easily everything with him went to shit, not about how it all hurt you so much more than you’d allow yourself to admit, and definitely not about the lingering regret you’d been feeling although you also believed that what you’d done was ultimately for the best. 

Of course, you knew that shoving it all down and not facing it wasn’t the healthiest thing to do, and perhaps a conversation between you and Steve was sorely needed, but you were upset with him, even a little angry. And then you were also equally upset at yourself, which made you really not want to say anything to him or even think about the situation. 

“Thanks, I’m a little scared but also so ready for it,” You said and then didn’t hesitate to say your next words. “I really can’t wait to get out of LA.” 

“You and me both, honestly,” Jessie said with a quick nod. Before she could say anything else, she was pulled into a conversation with the Director of Photography about her thoughts on how the scene should be set up; what kind of shots she wanted, etc. 

As they talked, you simply looked around and let yourself take everything in for a second; watching the various crew members move about, some putting final touches on the set and others talking to the handful of extras and prepping them. It was the fact that everyone was essentially working together to achieve the same vision that made you smile. 

This was what you loved, this was what you would never get tired of. It was what made it all worth it in your eyes. To you nothing was as important as being a part of this. 

Barely a second later, Steve walked onto set and your mind quickly reminded you that he was in the scene that was about to film, which immediately washed away your smile and your happiness was replaced with that familiar feeling of indifference. 

You couldn’t even remember the last time you had an actual conversation with him. He would really only talk to you when he needed something, and it was in those moments that you were reminded you were still his assistant, because when you were actually friends with him it didn’t really feel that way. Until two days ago when Martin, his new and more long term assistant, took over, so then actually needing things from you became a rarity. 

It didn’t take long for your gazes to meet, somehow it was still startlingly easy to lock eyes with him in a crowded room, and for the briefest of moments nothing was said or done. 

Until you gave him a small curt nod and a half smile, and then walked away, quickly deciding that being anywhere else was more important to you right then. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Production wrap parties had always been your favorite. Seeing the entire cast and crew come together to celebrate the work that had been done over the past few months always warmed your heart. It almost felt as good as watching the final product of the movie.

However, this time you couldn’t find the heart to enjoy the party like you normally would, and it was fully because of Steve. 

The party was happening in one of the Executive Producers' huge homes in Hollywood Hills, but apparently the house was not big enough for you and Steve to not see each other. There was some sort of dance of avoidance happening between you two in the expansive dining room area that the majority of the party was taking place in— walking around each other and pretending as if the other didn’t exist as you both got pulled into various conversations. That painfully went on for almost an entire hour until Steve apparently got tired of the dance and game of pretend and finally went up to you. 

You were alone, probably for the first time since you showed up at the party, and you were standing by one of the many floor-to-ceiling windows admiring the view of the city. He lightly tapped your shoulder to grab your attention, and it felt almost insane how easily you were able to tell it was him simply by his touch.

“Hey…” He said as you turned around to face him. “Can we talk?”

There was something about that three worded question that made you confused and the tiniest bit angry. 

“Now you want to talk?” You asked, keeping your voice level as you spoke because you didn’t want anyone to focus on you and him, but you still narrowed your eyes at him. “After a week of nothing but radio silence?” 

“I know, and I fully deserve you being mad at me right now,” He said softly. “But, please.”

You hated that somehow the look on his face and softness in his tone managed to loosen your resolve, making you ultimately nod at him. “Okay.”

It immediately became an unspoken understanding that this long overdue conversation couldn’t happen right here in this open space where there was potential for anyone to interrupt at any moment. And luckily right then everyone else was seemingly in a world of their own so they didn’t notice you and Steve heading down a random hallway and walking into the first room you saw. It was one of the many bedrooms that you assumed was in this house and you quickly noticed the sliding door that led to the balcony attached to the room. 

You walked out onto it and Steve followed you. After taking a quick breath, glad to have some fresh air filling your lungs because it somehow made things a bit more bearable, you looked at him. “So… let’s talk?”

You didn’t necessarily know what you expected him to say or how this conversation would begin, maybe with some unimportant and forced small talk that would feel weird because there was a point where the two of you were so far past that. However, you definitely didn’t expect him to immediately start with “I’m sorry.”

“I’m so fucking sorry for this past week, and avoiding you and pushing you away,” Steve said and you could only look at him, slightly stunned by his apologetic words. “I thought I was completely okay with what you said that night at your apartment, the last time we really talked, about us just being friends and nothing more, but…” He trailed off with whatever he was about to continue with, which made you both confused and curious. 

“What?” You asked softly, breaking through his thoughts. You desperately wanted to hear everything that was going through his mind. 

“You said that you didn’t want us to be real and that you could never see us being anything more. And I felt like such an idiot for feeling the complete opposite way,” His gaze was off of you and instead he was looking straight ahead. “And it was just too hard to see you and pretend that everything was fine.”

And there it finally was, the “why” behind him pushing you away that you had desperately wanted to know, and it was a “why” that actually made so much sense because you knew that if the roles had been reversed you would have done the same thing.  

His words, especially the first part of them, also reminded you that you weren’t completely innocent in this situation. Because what you said to him that night, which became the main reason why he’d been so distant, wasn’t true. 

“I’m really sorry too,” You said, which made him look at you again and you could see that he was confused why you were apologizing right then. “I lied… I honestly really do see it; us being more, being real. I could see it so goddamn easily sometimes and it made me want it even more. There were so many moments over that past month where it all felt too real and like everything we were doing meant something more than just sex or just a friendship. Especially when you surprised me for my birthday. That was the best thing that happened to me in a long time. And actually, you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.” 

You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you started speaking again. “Also, it was dumb of me to think that the sex part of it ending wouldn’t really matter because we’d still have the friend part and everything would pretty much stay the same. Because nothing will ever be like these past three months, and specifically the last five weeks. We’re not gonna see each other as often anymore and it’ll be rare if we’ll even be able to talk as much. It’s all gonna be so different.”

It was as if everything that you had forced yourself not to think about this past week was coming out at full force as word vomit. You had no idea how much sense any of what you were saying made, but you hoped it all would lead to some sort of point in the end. 

“Why did you lie that night?” He asked, and it was the question you should’ve been expecting to hear. 

“Every time I thought about us being more I would tell myself that us being together in that way wouldn’t make sense; our lives are so different. So, I thought it would be easier to lie to you because then you couldn’t try and convince me that somehow we do make sense together,” You answered. “But, there hasn’t been a day where I haven’t regretted lying and not taking it all back. Right when you left, I wanted to run up to you and tell you the truth.”

He glanced at you for a brief moment and then just as quickly looked away. “I wish you did.”

“I do want something more with you. I fully want something real,” You told him, letting those honest words fall from your lips for the first time ever. “But, the thought of trying something and it all ending horribly scares me so fucking much and makes me not want to even take that chance… And I’m sorry.”

“Honestly, it scares me too.”

The question of “So, where do we go from here?” lingered in the cool air and neither of you had a clear answer to it. Was it possible for the two of you to actually and solely be just friends after admitting you have feelings for each other? If you were being a thousand percent honest with yourself, you weren’t entirely sure. 

You leaned back against the closed sliding door and let your thoughts run. Things were quiet between you and Steve, but it wasn’t the awkward kind. Instead, it felt as if both of you were fully consumed by your own thoughts right then and neither of you really knew what to say. And then, at the same time, you two also didn’t want whatever this moment was to end just yet. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity but also the complete opposite, you spoke. “I’m kinda just realizing this now, but even though we never admitted it to each other or probably even thought about it ourselves, I think we were in some sort of a real relationship. Because honestly the only thing missing was the label; we were doing practically everything else two people in a relationship would do. And I think that’s why you avoiding me and barely talking to me felt so much more devastating than I’d like to admit. It felt like the worst break up, and I never want that to happen again.”

Steve was quiet for a few moments. It was easy to tell that he was thinking, fully letting everything you just said sit with him. You didn’t have to fully verbalize it for him to know what you wanted, and more specifically what you didn’t want. 

“You’re right,” He finally said, eyes meeting yours. “This past week has been so shitty. I’ve missed you so much.” 

“I’ve missed you too. I was also mad at you and confused, but I really did miss you.”

“How badly did I ruin our friendship?”

You shook your head at his question. “Not bad enough. In my eyes, you’re still my best friend.”

“You’re mine too,” He said and then after a beat of silence said his next words. “Let’s just keep it that way.”

You only looked at him for a second before asking, voice soft and quiet, “Are you sure?”

You didn’t want him agreeing to something that only you saw as right and things ending up just like they had before. You knew that you couldn’t bear the past week having any kind of a part two. 

Steve nodded at you. “Yes, I think we’d be better off as friends. I want you in my life forever.”

“I hope you know what it means now that you just said that,” You told him, a small smile playing on your lips. “You’re never getting rid of me.” 

He smiled at you, it was the kind of smile that you hadn’t seen in what felt like forever from him and you’d forgotten how much you missed it. You got the sudden urge to kiss him, which startled you because this, what you two just decided on, didn’t involve that, and you quickly realized that it would be hard to learn to not want that even a little bit anymore.  

You pushed away everything you were feeling and then closed a bit of the space between you two and held out your pinky. 

“This is super childish and cheesy but let’s promise to not let this end,” You said. You knew it was dumb, but the idea actually helped to make you feel the tiniest bit better about everything. “Y’know, promising to stay friends forever and all that stuff you say at, like, summer camp.” 

“Okay, deal,” Steve nodded as he linked his pinky with yours.  

You smiled at him. “I take pinky promises very seriously, by the way. So, this cannot be broken, Steven.” 

He laughed a bit. “Don’t worry, I also take them seriously.”

“Good to know.”

Even though pinkies were linked and you did really believe that this was the best decision to make, deep down inside of you, you wished that the circumstances could be different. That the two of you were the same people, but in completely different situations. You wished for something cheesy and Hallmark-like, something easy, where there wasn’t distance or work that made things so much harder than how they should’ve been for you two. 

And then there was even a part of you that wanted to say fuck it because why not try? Even if you and him ended up crashing and burning in the end, at least you wouldn’t have to live with the never-ending “what ifs,” no matter how short-lived the relationship was. 

But, in your mind, the cons severely outweighed the pros and you knew that it wasn’t worth it and you couldn’t allow yourself to risk it; you needed to play it safe. Your friendship with him was more than enough; it was hard to even remember the last time you had a friendship that felt as important as this one.

Therefore, you instead decided to find solace in the thought that in another life, in a completely different universe, no stupid outside forces were preventing you from being together— not even your overthinking mind could stop it— and the two of you were happy.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: pls don't hate me for how this ended lmao there will be an epilogue. i repeat. there will be an epilogue! (it wasn't planned at first but i decided i didn't want to completely end it here) so i'll see yall next week for the actual final part of this series<333

final part!

[littlelalu]

A New Chapter | Milo Manheim (Fluff)

Notes: Thank you so much to everyone who likes my posts :) Please let me know if you want me to write you one or want me to write about something in particular.

Y/N = Your Name

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My anxiety and stress levels have been high these past couple of days. We got to New Zealand three weeks ago because Milo must film for Zombies 4. Milo’s schedule has been crazy. He has been having set visits, late-night filming, and some cast parties here and there. I woke up feeling like shit today. I told Milo I was going to stay home today. I felt nauseous and dizzy, and my mood was crazy. I think my period is coming soon.

It's 1 pm and I’ve been in bed all day. I tried closing my eyes to nap, but nothing was making the feeling go away. I was startled as my phone rang. I grabbed my phone from my nightstand. It was Milo Facetiming me.

“Milo…” I said with a weak smile.

“Aww… How’s my girl feeling?” he said in a sweet voice. His hair was greener than usual, and his makeup was on.

“Shit. You look cute, Zed,” I said, slightly giggling.

“Haha very funny.” He said sarcastically. “Anyways, are you sure you didn’t get sick from something? Like food poisoning from the restaurant, we all ate the other night?”

I thought about it for a while. “Is anyone else sick?”

“Well… No… Just you.”

“I think it’s just my monthly friend coming soon, babe. I’ll be fine. I’m just going to stay home today.”

“Okay boo. I must go. As soon as I am done, I will go straight to you. I love you. See you later. Muah” he said as he kissed the camera.

I laughed, “Love you too! Bye”

I hung up and set my phone back on the nightstand. I pulled the blanket over me and drifted off to sleep.

~~~~~~~ Later ~~~~~~

“Y/N...” I heard a whisper “Y/N”

I slowly opened my eyes and saw my green-haired boyfriend. “Milo!” I said happily. “What time is it?”

“It’s 5 o’clock. They let us go early because it was starting to rain.” He sat on the bed next to me. He felt my forehead “Feeling better? Any fevers”

“The same, Dr. Manheim” I joked with him, causing him to slightly laugh.

“I made you something. Wait here.” He said as he got up and left the room. Minutes later, he came back with a tray. The was some soup, apple juice, and crackers. He set the tray on the nightstand. “I made you chicken noodle soup. I know you love to have it when you’re sick”

Despite him waking up early to film and working out with those dance moves he does; he still manages to make sure I am okay. He loves taking care of me because he knows I do the same for him.

“Thank you, babe. I needed this.” I said as I sat up. He opened the legs from the tray so he could set it over my legs.

“Anything for you.”

“Are you going out tonight?”

“Nah., I told them I was going to stay in with you.”

“You don’t have to cancel plans because of me babe. I will be fine”

“Yeah, I know, but we haven’t had any rest or any alone time. I want to be with you tonight. Even if it’s just us watching movies.” He said as he kissed my cheek. He walked over to the other side of the bed and sat next to me.

We locked eyes for a while. “What did I do to get this lucky?”

He smiled at me. “You got it wrong babe. I am the one who got lucky. I am just doing my best to keep you around.”

“I love you,” I said.

“I love you, too,” he said.

He started to lean in for a kiss, but I stopped him. “No, I’ll get you sick. You can’t get sick.”

He pouted. “Please?” He gave me puppy eyes.

“No,” I said

“Fine… “He sighed in defeat.

I began eating the soup. “This is delicious.”

Milo turned on the TV and put “How I Met Your Mother” on. He knows this is my comfort show.

After a few bites, I began to feel nauseous again. I tried to power through and continue eating but it got to me. I set the tray on the nightstand and ran to the bathroom. I slammed the door shut, quickly grabbed a hair tie, and put my hair in a ponytail. I sat in front of the toilet, throwing up everything I just ate.

I heard soft knocks on the floor. “Y/N? Are you okay?”

“No…” I said softly. My stomach and throat hurt from using force to throw up.

“Can I come in?”

“No. Just give me a few minutes.” I spoke. I heard him walk to our bed.

I have not been able to keep much down. I am surprised I had the energy to run. I’ve never felt this bad. I flushed the toilet, washed my hands, and brushed my teeth before heading back with Milo.

“You okay, love?” He asked. His voice sounded concerned. His eyes looked worried.

I nodded. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and went to my period tracker app.

‘Take A Test’ flashed across the home screen.

My eyes widened and my jaw dropped.

“What’s wrong?” Milo said even more worried than before. I tossed him the phone. He read it and had the same expression as me. He quickly refocused. “Do you think you might be?”

“I-im not sure… I can’t think straight right now…” I said my voice barely above a whisper.

“I’ll go to the store and get you some tests. Just stay here and try to relax” he said as he got up and put his shoes on. He hugged me and kissed my forehead before he left out the door.

~~~ An hour later ~~~

“Y/N?” I heard Milo ask as he walked in. 

“Here…” I said I was still sitting on the bed with my legs touching my chest.  I was still in shock. I just couldn’t help but think of the outcomes. Am I ready to be a mom? Is Milo okay with this? Are we ready? 

Milo walked into the room with 3 pregnancy tests and a plastic cup. “I was not sure which is best, but the lady in the front said to get the pink dye.”

I slightly smiled imagining him asking the lady about it. “Thanks, babe. I’ll be back” I grabbed the pregnancy tests and the cup. I went to the bathroom to take all three at the same time. 

I washed my hands and sat on the floor until the 5-minute timer I set on my phone rang. My heart began to race again. My phone timer went off. I turned it off and slowly got up. I walked up to the counter and saw all the pregnancy tests. 2 of them had 2 clear lines, and the other had a plus sign on it. Positive.

I started to shake again. 

I heard a knock at the door. “Babe? Are you okay? I heard your timer go off. Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” I said barely a whisper. Not sure how he heard me, but he came in. 

“What is it?” He asked nervously.

I grabbed all three pregnancy tests and showed him. 

He looked shocked at first too and smiled so big. “You’re pregnant?!” 

I nodded. I still can’t speak. I don’t know how to react.

“IM GOING TO BE A FUCKING DAD, “Milo said excitedly jumping up and down.

“You’re not upset?” I asked him.

“What? Of course not. Y/N, I love you. I know I want to be with you my whole life. Starting a family with you is a dream. I didn’t think it would be this fast, but I always wanted to be a dad.” He added, “I will be there for you and our child. Whenever you need me.”

I cried, happy tears, and hugged him so tightly. “I love you, Milo”

“I love you more.”

I pulled away and looked at him.

“I was honestly nervous about being parents this young in life. I was scared you would leave me because I thought you weren’t ready. But…. You made me feel safe. I cannot wait to raise our child together.”

“I can’t wait either!” He said as he leaned in to kiss me. 

We ended up celebrating again. Let’s just say we celebrated the same way we created this baby 😉

[ddejavvu]

id love to hear your thoughts on stepbro!steve and brat!mean!reader who just pushes the boundaries and purposely talks shit just to piss him off <3

today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :)

this post is 18+ (and so are its characters) and dark, minors dni.

Your feet pound down the stairs, and Steve knows he's in for it. It's 10PM, the sky is pitch black outside, and you're wearing a tube top.

"Where are you going?" He straightens up from where he'd been slumped on the couch, only half paying attention to the slasher film on screen.

"There's a party at Jeanne's," You inform him, lips glossed and hair fluffed, "I'll be back late. Don't wait up."

"It's snowing out." Steve drawls, standing when you don't bother looking his way, "And what, you're gonna walk? Are you crazy? Look," He gestures to the screen, displaying a rather grotesque murder, "That's what happens to girls who walk alone at night."

"Just because you don't get invited to parties anymore doesn't mean I'll abstain," You sneer, pleased when his fists clench, "Leave me alone, Steve, or I'll tell your dad you were bothering me tonight."

"And I'll tell your mom you were going out drinking with your friends in that outfit." He glances down at your too-short shorts, "Does she even know you've got those clothes?"

"No," You huff, crossing your arms and making your tits pop, "And she doesn't need to. Just do me a favor, okay?"

"I don't take I.O.U's," Steve grumbles, and a smirk grows on your face amidst the gum you're chewing.

"Well, I mean, if you wanted, I could do you a favor now."

"A favor?" Steve raises a brow, unimpressed, "What favor?"

You drop to your knees so fast that your knees crack against the hardwood. Steve's eyes widen and his jaw falls open, a gasp puffing his chest up as he stumbles backwards slightly.

"Don't be shy, Stevie." You croon, shimmying forwards on your knees so that your face is level with his hips, "I know you like my outfit. It's these, huh?" You glance down at your tits, tugging at the tube top until they spring free.

"Y/N, I can't-"

"It's okay, Steve." You assure him, hands curling around his thighs, "I like you too, y'know. And I hear you, when you're trying to be quiet. We share a wall, you're not as sneaky as you think you are."

"But- but this is- we're," He stammers, cheeks aflame at the knowledge that he's been caught moaning your name while tugging his cock.

"We're not family," You scoff, "We met last year."

"I know," Steve sighs, a shaky exhale, "I- I just... are you sure?"

"I'm sure," You nod, smiling sweetly at him as your fingers squeeze at the meat of his thighs, "I've wanted to do this for a while, Stevie. I think about you, too, y'know. When I'm touching myself."

You see the bulge grow in Steve's jeans.

"There," You croon happily, leaning in to nuzzle your nose against the stiff outline of his cock. His hips shake, stuttering into your grip, and you yank his zipper down with your teeth.

"Thanks, Stevie." You hum, reaching up to guide his straining cock out of his boxers, "You're the best."

[mayiwritesomething]

Love is an Unfamiliar Name (Pt. 3)

Wordcount: 1,1k

A/N: just fluff

PART TWO

——-

Inmsonia

You had experienced perhaps the most challenging day on set: broken equipment, multiple re-shoots due to technical glitches, two team members falling ill (whom you personally ensured were taken care of), an angry and frustrated director due to the events, and to top it off, you were dealing with the discomfort of your period. The day seemed to drag on for what felt like 127 hours.

Finally back in the comfort of your hotel room, you indulged in a relaxing long bath and changed into your cozy Adidas set before sinking into your bed. The events of the day kept replaying in your mind—the things you could have avoided, the areas you could have improved upon—and as you glanced at the clock, it read 2:00 am.

Knowing that the next day was a scheduled day off, most people were out partying or getting drunk, seeking solace from the day's stress. However, you were too frustrated to be in the company of others, even though Jenny insisted that you should make her some company.

Despite the urge to stay in, the thought of being confined pushed you to venture outside onto a small deck besides your accommodations. It was a comfortable space, furnished with sofas, and offered a great view. And you could smoke. An old habit you had long given up, yet this day warranted just one cigarette. Miraculously, you managed to resist the temptation of smoking an entire pack in one go.

 

As you settled in, you lit your cigarette and gazed up at the stars, which sparkled brilliantly in the night sky. You attempted to identify the constellations as time drifted by: the Big Dipper, Perseus, and Andromeda. You even spotted Saturn and Jupiter among the twinkling celestial bodies.

Watching the smoke from your cigarette drift upwards, you sang softly to yourself:

 

"Stars are never sleeping

Dead ones and the living

Hmmm hmmm hm hm hmmm

And they know just what we do

That we toss and turn at night

They're waiting to make their moves

For the stars are out tonight"

 

Lighting another cigarette and reclining on the chaise, you glanced at the clock. It read 3:24 AM. Lost in your thoughts, you continued to hum the tune, the lyrics resonating with the late-night atmosphere.

"You always seemed like a Bowie fan." A male voice suddenly pierced the quiet night. Scared, you nearly tumbled off the chaise, the cigarette forgotten in the commotion, your heart pounding in your chest.

"What the hell, PEDRO!" you exclaimed, still attempting to steady your breath.

"Sorry… I didn't mean to scare you," Pedro apologized, taking a seat beside you. As the filming progressed, you and him began to bond, discovering a shared love for strong coffee that led to more frequent conversations.

"Insomnia?" he asked.

"Yes, it's been a rough day," you replied, giving him some space. "Sit." Despite the initial discomfort, you found yourself growing accustomed to his proximity as you conversed.

"I wasn't around today, so you missed me, I know," he remarked as he lit his cigarette, "No need to hide."

You sat with your knees drawn up to your chest, offering a small smile in response. "Definitely, Pedro. Definitely." You knew he was trying to lift your spirits, and just as you had grown accustomed to his mannerisms, he had grown accustomed to yours. He knew you were giving your best.

 

Sensing your subdued mood, he inched closer and inquired softly, "Hey babe, what's going on inside that head of yours?"

“Babe? That’s a new one,” you replied, surprised. "No big deal, just a whirlwind of thoughts and overwhelm," you said, gazing up at the stars.

"That's your usual girl… but is there something else?" He pressed gently.

"Oh… Today is the worst day ever," you confessed, the unbridled emotions of the day taking hold as tears welled in your eyes. "Nothing went right; people got yelled at because of my incompetence. As their leader, I should have known how to avoid this shit," you expressed, frustration evident in your voice. "I don't even know why I took this job man." Your arms remained tightly wound around your knees, the weight of the day and unregulated hormones bearing down on you.

You missed your actual home and your friends, and you also felt guilty that your team took the blame for every problem, despite your logical side reminding you that the defective equipment you received couldn't withstand the cold weather. Overwhelmed by it all, you couldn't hold back the tears any longer.

"I know how it feels—I mean, the frustration... Come here, it’s ok," he said tenderly, aware of your discomfort with physical contact but recognizing your need for comfort. "Hey, I know you're not one for physical touch, but I don’t think it will hurt you now." Reluctantly, you allowed his arms to envelop you as you surrendered to your tears. "Just let it out, baby... Relax”

"I'm so sorry," you apologized through sobs as your head found its place against his chest, feeling the gentle caress of his fingers through your hair.

"For what?" he questioned softly.

"You came to smoke, relax, you know, and now you have..." the tears resurfaced.

"To be with you?” He answered laughing, “You don't have to apologize for anything." He reassured calmly.

"Why..." your words were interrupted by your sobs, "not... out... why... here?" You clung tightly to him.

"Huh, I wanted to have a good night's sleep, which I was enjoying by far. You know I’m a terrible sleeper, so I came out here to smoke, as I sometimes do," he explained, his fingers still gentle in your hair and the dampness of your tears soaking into both of your clothes. He said something else, but you couldn’t understand.

 

Lifting your head to meet his gaze, you observed an unfamiliar tenderness in his eyes, his hands continuing to caress your hair with a gentle touch that you didn't want to be stopped.

"Gosh, I must look terrible, don't I?" You voiced your inner tought, getting a laugh from him as he teasingly replied, "You're looking like a sad gremlin, which is kinda cute, i’m sorry."

His laughter was contagious, and you found yourself joining in. With his arms still around you, you settled back against his chest again and whispered shyly, "Can we stay like this a little longer?"

"As long as you want... As long as you need," he reassured, adjusting your positions for comfort. Whispering in spanish, he added, "Considering this is the only way you let me get closer."

Although you understood his words, you chose not to let him know, not wanting to disrupt the moment. Instead, as holding him tighter, you opted to heed the advice from the 80s song and simply enjoy the silence, as this very moment, together, was something you just found out to want just as much as him.

"Words are very unnecessary

They can only do harm."

[icysinner]

influenced — chapter one | a hellcat. click the pictures for better quality.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: sasha decides to join her two friend groups, thinking everyone will just be friends.

warnings: swearing, mentions of drugs & alcohol.

𝐍𝐘𝐀 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: i know i said end of may, i couldn’t help myself. also took a lot of inspo from this for this chapter! live, love, laugh berleezy <3

tags: @hoohoohope @princessuchiha314

𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ᥫ᭡ 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁

ⴰ ࣭͘ ♡⃝

-ˏˋ 𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄. ˊˎ-

⎯⎯⎯⎯

the room was already full of laughter as the stream began, various conversations going on as the cameras filmed the group of friends. “armin, how the fuck do i work this?” jean asked, holding a dab pen in his hand, earning an eye roll from armin. “you literally just hold the button and pull.. you interrupted my conversation for that?” armin said, his tone laced with faux-irritation, just doing it to annoy jean. “oh, my bad. continue your date, armin.” jean replied, teasing him and kaira, who were currently in deep conversation. “can you two stop making out back there? we’re live.” eren said, spinning in his chair, reading the chat.

⎯⎯⎯⎯

jeagerist4l i’m crying armin & jean already arguing

jaybandz eren knew what he was doing bringing the baddies on stream

armoneysgf sasha & y/n late they need to come on so the party can start

ihrtjeager what da hell we doing today

⎯⎯⎯⎯

“we waiting for sasha and y/n so we can start —semaj, call your friends.” eren said, looking over at semaj, who was currently on her phone with eren’s cat, carla, in her lap. “why do i have to do it?” semaj whined, opening the ‘phone’ app. “because you were the first person i thought of.” eren replied, a sending her a bright smile. semaj’s phone rang twice before you answered. “i’m literally in front of the door, bye, semaj.” you said, before quickly hanging up the phone and opening eren’s front door. as you and sasha walked into eren’s stream room, the chat quickly sped up, everyone saying hello to the two of you.

as the room filled with greetings and smiles, you made your way to jean first, giving him a hug like you haven’t seen him in ages, which was pretty true. you and jean had a complicated friendship, one that often had people wondering if the two of you were dating or not. “get a room, ew.” mikasa said, a laugh coming quickly after as she realized the look of embarrassment on your face and the redness on jean’s ears. “mikasa, shut up, oh my god.” you said, sitting down next to armin and kaira.

as the stream continued on, the group talked about anything the chat brought up, whether it’d been when you all met the first time or talking about embarrassing stories of each other. the internet loved it. although doing this for clout wasn’t the reason everyone did it — it definitely didn’t hurt.

⎯⎯⎯⎯

erensdelulugf W STREAM.

⎯⎯⎯⎯

[ourshadowstallerthanoursoul]

An audience with... John Paul Jones

(from Uncut, April 2010 - link)

You’re stuck on a deserted island, you have one instrument you can bring. It is: a) piano, b) bass or c) mandolin? (Gary Attersley, Ontario, Canada)

Oh… that’s horrible! I’ll probably get Hugh Manson – the guy who builds all my bass guitars – to build me some monstrous instrument that encapsulated all three! Hugh and his brother Andy Manson once actually designed me a triple-necked guitar with 12-string guitar, six-string guitar and mandolin on it! Andy also designed a triple-necked mandolin. But I guess if it really came down to it on a desert island, it would have to be the piano, because you can do so much on it. You’re a whole band. The bass is not much fun on your own.

John, it’s so good to see you so engaged with today. Any advice for old farts who can’t move on? (Andrew Loog Oldham)

Who are you calling an old fart? I dunno, Andy, you tell me! Ha ha. He’s done a good job of staying up to date. Andrew, of course, gave me the name John Paul Jones. I was John Baldwin, until Andrew saw a poster for the French film version of John Paul Jones. I thought it ’d look great in CinemaScope, as I wanted to do music for films. I imagined it saying “Music By John Paul Jones”, over the whole screen. I never realised then that he was the Horatio Nelson of America!

I know that you’ve been getting heavily into bluegrass lately – who are some of your favourite bluegrass artists of all time? (Ryan Godek, Wilmington, Delaware)

Apart from Bill Monroe, you mean? Oh, there’s loads. I’m friends with the Del McCoury band, I love that style of classic bluegrass. I love Sam Bush’s Newgrass stuff. And of course there’s Nickel Creek, Chris Feely, Mike Marshall. I love it all, really. One thing I like about bluegrass is that you don’t require amplifiers, drums and trucks. You can pull an instrument out of a box and get on with some instant music making. I carry a mandolin around wherever I go. I also like the fact bluegrass musicians play more than one instrument. There’s a tradition of them swapping instruments. In bluegrass bands I swap between double bass, fiddle and banjo.

One Butthole Surfers anecdote, please? (Dave Grohl)

Ha! I was brought in to produce the Butthole Surfers’ 1993 album, Independent Worm Saloon. I guess it was to give it a heavy rock vibe, but it didn’t work like that. They were actually incredibly hard-working in the studio, but I do recall running up a phenomenal bar-bill at the San Rafael studio. And then there was Gibby [Haynes, Butthole Surfers’ frontman] and his… eccentric studio behaviour. Gibby did one vocal take shouting into his guitar. He held it out in front of his face and screamed at it. Ha! He was trying to find out if it picked up through the pick-ups, which it kind of did. And that was pretty good.

How’s the violin coming along? (Sean, Berkshire)

I started about three years ago. With the guitar, or the piano, you can sound OK quite quickly. With the violin, it takes much longer. Once you get past the first six months of scraping, of muttering to yourself, “What is this fucking horrible noise on my shoulder?” you get the odd musical bit, and you think, ‘Oh, this is starting to get good.’ And you continue with it for a while. I’m getting into country fiddle playing, Celtic folk songs, a bit of swing. Basic stuff, but very satisfying.

Why not record a second ‘Automatic For The People’ with REM? (Franz Greul, Austria)

They haven’t asked me! But doing the string arrangements for that album was a great experience, actually. They sent me the demos of their songs, and we went into a studio in Atlanta, with members of the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra. They were great songs, something you can really get your teeth into as an arranger. And I’ve been good friends with them ever since.

How did you first meet Josh Homme? And is he still a notorious party monster? (Rob Hirst, Kippax, Leeds)

Well, I think we’ve all calmed down rather a lot. Dave introduced me to Josh at his 40th birthday party. It was a ridiculous themed place where they have jousting with knights. As Dave said, it was like somewhere you’d have your 14th birthday party. Or maybe even your 4th. Anyway, Dave sat Josh and I together for a blind date. Which was reasonably embarrassing for both of us, surrounded by people going “prithee this” and challenging each other to duels. But we survived the trauma and went into the studio the next day, and just started jamming. And I knew immediately it was going to be something special.

If Them Crooked Vultures had Spice Girls-like nicknames what would they be? (Paul Jones, Liverpool)

Dave would be Smiley Vulture. He can’t stop grinning. Josh would be Slinky Vulture. He’s a slinky kinda guy. And I’d be Speedy, I guess. Or Jumpy. So there you go. Smiley, Slinky and Speedy. Or does that sound more like the dwarfs?

I remember you being a pretty funky bass genius back in the day! What memories do you have of those sessions? (Donovan)

The sessions with Don and Mickie Most were great, because we were given a free hand. I usually got leeway, because I was the sort of Motown/Stax specialist, so producers in the mid ’60s would get me in for cover versions of American records, and none of them could write bass parts convincingly enough, so I was London’s answer to James Jamerson, I guess! And I was certainly encouraged to get kinda… funky when I worked with Donovan.

How did it feel to see Jimmy Page and Robert Plant venture off in their own project in the ‘90s without mentioning a word of it to you? (Danny Luscombe, Hull)

Oh yeah, I was pissed off about it. The surprise was in not being told. It’s ancient history now, but it was a bit annoying to find out about it while reading the papers. It came just after Robert and I had been discussing the idea of doing an Unplugged project. Then I’m on tour in Germany with Diamanda Galás, I turn on the TV and see Robert and Jimmy doing it, with someone else playing all my parts! I was pissed off at the time. You would be, woudn’t you? But… it’s all in the past, isn’t it?

Did you listen to much work by Josh Homme or Dave Grohl before you were contacted in relation to joining Them Crooked Vultures, and if so, how did you honestly rate it? (Ralph Ryan, Lisronagh, County Tipperary)

I did like the Foo Fighters and Queens Of The Stone Age, before I’d met either of them. There’s a tendency for people – especially musicians from my generation – to say that there has been this terrible decline in musicianship, that today’s bands haven’t got the chops, blah blah blah. But that’s not true at all. There’s always some people for whom technique on an instrument isn’t necessary. They can get their ideas across without being able to have the chops. But Josh really does have the chops, he just doesn’t feel the need to flash them about all the time. In fact, there were a few riffs he gave me that I had to simplify, because they were bloody difficult to play. I really had to work at it, where he could just flick it off. He is an astonishing musician.

Were you serious when you told Peter Grant that you wanted to jack it in to become choirmaster at Winchester Cathedral? (Brian Fisher, Manchester)

Ha! That was a tongue-in-cheek joke, although I was serious about leaving Led Zeppelin in 1973 unless things changed. But Peter did sort things out pretty quickly. What kind of choirmaster would I have made? A bloody good one! Listen, any way that they’ll pay you for making music is just the best situation in the world. I’d do it for nothing. I don’t care what music it is. I just love it all. The rubbing of notes together. I love it all. I would be very passionate about whatever I decided to do.

What was the worst session you ever did as a jobbing session player? (Adam Burns, Castleford, West Yorkshire)

I generally have fun memories of that time. I’d criss-cross London playing two or three sessions a day, going between Trident and Olympic and Abbey Road and Philips in Marble Arch, you know. You’d be backing Shirley Bassey, Cat Stevens, Lulu, whoever was paying you. The worst experience was a Muzak session. With Muzak sessions, the music was deliberately boring. I distinctly remember one session where I embellished the bass part a little bit, just so that it wasn’t so boring for me to play. They said, “No, you can’t do that. Any interest in the music will distract people’s attention from when they’re meant to be eating.” Or standing in a fucking lift. For fuck’s sake! So I was like, “OK, thanks, bye!”

[padfootagain]

We’ll Speak Through the Screen if We Can’t Find the Words for Real

Hello! Today, we’re answering a request made a while ago for Ben Barnes by an anon: “Hey! I saw you're still taking requests and it's okay if you take your time to write this I just have to send it to you before I forget about it 🙈 So, I thought about this idea where reader is friends with Ben and she's been harboring a crush for years, but she never told him anything because she doesn't want to ruin their friendship. But she's encouraged by a friend to confess her feelings before it's too late and she loses him forever to someone else. Reader is too shy and she doesn't have the courage to confess face to face so this friend of hers suggests she films a video confessing her love and she sends it to him, she does but the moment she does she regrets it, but it's too late! And Ben's reaction to it it's up to you, but always rooting for a happy ending cuz real life is already sad enough💛”

Thank you so much for your request, anon! I hope you like your fic (and I agree, I am always rooting for a happy ending too!)

Hope everybody enjoys this fic! Tell me what you think about it!

****

Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader

Warnings: a little bit of angst, because pining idiots. Fluff. A lot of fluff at the end…

Summary: You’ve been in love with Ben for a long time, but have never gathered your courage to confess your feelings for him. Everything changes though when you feel that you could lose him and your friend gives you a crazy idea…

Word Count: 3933

Ben Barnes’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

To understand the unbearably difficult situation you’ve found yourself into, one needs to go back in time a little bit.

To understand why you’re now panicking, and crying, alone, in your bed, one needs to go back to the previous weekend, four days ago.

It was a party, at your friend’s house. Or well, not exactly a party, more like a dinner with a few friends that turned into an evening spent together. Music, food and a little bit of alcohol, but nothing crazy. It was quiet for the most part. There were eight people in her apartment, and you all had divided into smaller groups as you talked, different conversations breaking the unity of the initial gathering.

And everything was going smoothly, everything was great, actually. Because Ben was back. He wasn’t staying for long in LA, though. Just a couple of weeks, but it was still amazing to see him. To actually hug him, and smell his perfume, and get his little random hugs he gave away so easily. To actually see him laugh instead of merely hearing the sound through your phone, and see his face for real instead of the pixeled version on a screen.

He had come back only a couple of days before, you noticed the dark bags under his eyes the second he stepped inside your friend’s home. Wearing comfortable clothes, a jumper and some blue jeans. Nothing fancy, just him.

And everything was going fine, because Meghan was an amazing host, and you played games, ate a great dinner, and everything was pretty much perfect. Ben was clingy, like he always was when he came home.

And your feelings were all over the place, as they always were whenever he was around.

Because he was your best friend, and had been so for years but then again… your friendship grew into something much fonder to you, something much stronger, something… that felt a lot like love.

It started gradually, and you wouldn’t have been able to point out when exactly you started falling for him had you tried. You simply did. Day by day, in his small gestures, and his loud laughs, and his tight hugs, and his reassuring words. You couldn’t know when it begun. Perhaps it was always there…

No matter for how long, the thing is that you are in love with him. Unbearably so. And that night, at your friend’s house, everything changed.

Ben was in a relationship when your feelings hit you right in the guts, but he hadn’t been with anyone else since his break-up. And you had gotten used to seeing him single, to the point where you kept on repeating to yourself over and over again that you had time. You had time to tell him that you loved him with all your heart.

The stakes, after all, were too great. What if he didn’t feel the same? What if he didn’t even want to be friends with you anymore after that? What if you lost him altogether?

You were being a coward, and you knew it, but you couldn’t help it. You loved him to much to risk it all.

But that was before this party at Meghan’s, before he got teased by some of your friends over this neighbour of his he had taken on a date the day before.

“It’s nothing serious, nothing even happened,” Ben laughed, blushing at his friends’ teasing.

“Come on, spill the tea!”

“There’s no tea! There’s no tea to be spilled! I just… had a nice evening, and that’s about it.”

“Will you go on another date?”

“I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know. We’ll see.”

You hid your reaction in your glass, looking away.

Because your heart was beating so much faster then, all of a sudden, fear clenching at the organ and refusing to let go again. Did it mean that you were too late? That you were running out of time?

After that, you were quiet throughout the evening, making Ben worry about you, but you lied.

“I’m fine, don’t worry. Just a bit tired. I think I’m gonna head home.”

“So soon?”

You didn’t see it. Or rather, you saw the signs, but didn’t understand them. He was used to it.

“Yeah… I’ll just say goodbye to everyone, and then go home.”

“Alright. Good night, then. Be careful on the road, okay? Let us know you’re safe.”

“Sure. I’ll text you.”

You kiss his cheek, too busy trying to hide the way your heart is skipping beats to notice anything about him…

After that night, after this silly conversation, you avoided Ben for the rest of the weekend. But you were spiralling, slowly but surely, and on Monday you called Meghan to finally talk about it all.

“Here, take another tissue,” she heaved a sigh, passing the Kleenex box over to you again and waiting for you to dry your cheeks before she would speak again. “You have to tell him, Y/N. This is ridiculous.”

“I can’t. I just can’t! What if he hates me after that? And what if he never wants to see me again? And what it…”

“What if an asteroid crashes over LA and kills us all…”

“I’m serious! What if he doesn’t feel the same?”

Meghan rolled her eyes, and heaved a frustrated sigh.

“Y/N… Ben is extremely handsome, and he’s a sweetheart, and he’s funny and goofy and smart…”

“I know that. Why do you think I fell in love with him in the first place?”

“What I mean is… what did you expect? Of course, he’s not going to remain single for all eternity if he doesn’t want to. It was pretty obvious that he would eventually start dating again. I wonder why it took him so long, actually…”

Again, she sighed.

“You have to tell him. You heard what he said about this neighbour of his, it wasn’t anything serious, and he’s not even sure whether or not he wants to see her again. So, you have a chance! Don’t waste it! Because if you keep on waiting, you’re gonna miss your chance and then…”

And then he would find someone else. She didn’t need to speak these words, you knew them already.

“Meg… I don’t think… I don’t think I can,” you whispered, your voice shaking and tears rolling down your cheeks again. “Despite the way I feel for him, and the fact that I genuinely want to be with him, I just… I don’t think I could say it all to him, like that… out loud… I can’t. I’m… I can’t.”

“Why can’t you?”

“I just… I just can’t!”

She groaned, burying her face in her hands.

“You and your bloody shyness, I swear…”

“It’s not my fault…”

She remained quiet for a few minutes. It was late already, and you kind of felt bad for wasting your friend’s evening, but then again, you were having a serious crisis…

“I know!” she exclaimed, making you jump. “If you can’t say it to his face, then let’s write him a letter. Or no! No, even better! Let’s record a video!”

“A video?”

“Yes! We record a video where you confess your feelings for him. So… he’ll know, but you won’t have to say it face to face. It will be easier for you.”

“I… I don’t know…”

“Y/N. You are miserable right now. This can’t go on, and you know it.”

Slowly, you nodded.

“Can…. Can you help me record it?” you asked her.

“Of course, I can, sweetheart. But not tonight. Let’s do that tomorrow. We’ll pick a cute outfit, get you ready, and record the whole thing together. But tonight… no. You look absolutely terrifying, I reckon that you would not look worse if you got hit by a truck or something.”

“Thank you for your help, even if you’ve just blatantly insulted me.”

“You’re welcome.”

And she was the one to come over to your flat the next day. She was the one to choose your outfit, and help you settle on your couch, who held your phone as you recorded the text you had written at one in the morning. Your hands were trembling as you held onto the paper for dear life, so tightly that you wrinkled the sheet.

You cried. You ended up crying again, and Meghan gave you a hug before leaving.

And you couldn’t wait to send it, you simply couldn’t. You knew you wouldn’t do it at all if you did. So, you opened your mailbox, you wrote a short message before adding the video and sending the email.

And that’s why you are crying now. Because the email has been sent, you’ve done that about half an hour ago. It will soon be midnight, and you know Ben will not read your message and watch your short video before tomorrow morning. Still, you’re crying again. You’re crying because you regret sending this bloody message.

He can’t be in love with you. He can’t feel the same. You know perfectly well he doesn’t, all you’re going to do is shatter your friendship with him. That’s all. And then what? You’ll keep on living your life, broken-hearted, and without your best friend.

You pick up your phone again, prepare a new email, one that begs him not to watch your video, not to open your previous message but then again… then again, can you keep on living like this? What will you do, on the long run? Waste your time dreaming of being with him like a fool? You can’t waste your life away like this…

You’re already broken-hearted, in a way. If he doesn’t feel the same, if he leaves, maybe it will be for the better.

You press delete instead of enter. The email is blank again, you close the app, you turn off your phone, you sit back, you stare up at the ceiling.

You’re crying again.

It feels like you’re already losing him. Perhaps it’s for the best…

Ben is whistling in his kitchen, waiting for his coffee to be ready. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of dark boxers and some socks, hair still messy after a peaceful night. He prepares a bowl of cereals, too lazy on this Wednesday morning to bake himself some pancakes.

He’s still waiting for his coffee when he picks up his phone, turning on the device to check if he’s missed any calls. He doesn’t find any of these, nor any texts, but the small envelop appears at the top of his screen, and he checks his emails. He frowns hard as your name appears there.

Why would you send him an email, instead of a text or a simple call?

He opens the email all the same, frowns hard at the short message.

Hi Ben,

You’re probably asleep and will only see this in the morning. I hope you don’t get mad at me for saying these things out loud. I just… I couldn’t hold it back anymore. But I wouldn’t have the strength to tell you all this face to face, so I’ve recorded this short video to let it all out. It’s your choice now, whether you want to forgive me or not.

I’m sorry.

Y/N.

Ben’s heart has quickened, and with worry painted all over his features, he sits down and opens the video attached to the email. He’s forgotten all about his coffee, ready for him by now.

The video starts. He easily recognizes your flat, you’re sitting on your sofa, and you seem so shy, so vulnerable, almost guilty…

What have you done?

Your voice is weak when it finally rings in his kitchen. It barely bumps into the walls, fades before reaching the counter. He hears you though. He listens to every word.

Ben. I know we’ve been friends for so long. I know how much you value our friendship. I know how much you care about me. And I would understand if you were mad at me after watching this, because I’m going to endanger what we have, to the point where our friendship might not recover. I understand the risks. But I can’t keep on going, not this way. I’ve never told you this, because… when we met you weren’t single. And then I was simply too much of a coward to tell you the truth. I’m too much of a coward now, still, as you can see. That’s why I’m recording this, instead of telling you face to face, because I know that the second I’ll look into your eyes I’ll be too scared to lose you to say anything at all. And this can’t go on. It’s been going on for too long, already.

And I reckon that I should be blunt about this. So, I won’t try to make it into a pretty declaration, because my feelings are a little too raw to be spoken in anything but simple, earnest words.

You look at the camera then, abandoning the piece of paper you’ve been reading. And Ben is starting to understand, but he isn’t quite sure if this is really happening…

But then you speak again, eyes glistening with tears you’re trying to hold back, voice shaking like he’s never heard before.

Still, he can read in your eyes, even through a video, even through a screen, that you mean it. Every word of it.

I’m in love with you, Ben. I’ve been for a long while. I…

Your voice breaks, you close your eyes, you try to gather your strengths again.

Another deep breath, before looking up.

I don’t see just a friend in you. I… I did at first, but then it changed over the course of the past few years and… and now here we are. With me being… ridiculously in love with my best friend.

You shake your head, brush away a tear.

I’m not expecting you to feel the same. But I can’t keep on lying to you. And… it might sound stupid, but hearing you talking about going on a date with someone it… it hurt a lot. I had to tell you, I reckon my confession is long overdue.

I would understand if you didn’t want to talk to me again. I just… I just hope you know that I’m not doing this to hurt you. I just need to know if this could happen or not. Because then, I reckon I’ll need to finally move on.

I’m sorry about all this. I’m so sorry, Ben.

Your video cuts as you shake your head, and start crying harder. He sees you standing from the sofa, and then nothing.

Then, he’s left with nothing but a blank screen, dark with a play button at its centre, in case he wants to start it all over again. He seems as frozen as the image he’s staring at.

He’s struggling for breath, can’t fully comprehend what just happened.

At long last, he finally presses the play button, watches the video again, but understands the same thing a second time, and a third, and a fourth time too.

You love him…

He blinks a few times, mouth agape, looking up and searching through his kitchen, as if he’ll suddenly find an answer on the door of his fridge or the handle of a drawer. There’s nothing written there though.

The coffee has grown cold when he finally sends you a text. A simple one. He’s checked the time, you’re already at work, this will have to wait for tonight.

How will he wait until tonight?

We need to talk. Can I come over tonight?

He’s been gazing at nothing again for a few minutes when his phone vibrates in his palm.

Is it about the video?

What else could it be about?

Yes.

He waits for a strong twenty minutes but you’re not responding. When he comes back from a shower, his phone is still silent. He tries to eat something for lunch, but his stomach is in a knot, and his throat is too tight, he barely manages to drink some water.

Hours pass, and there’s nothing on his phone. He waits till six o’clock, until he’s sure you’re home again, and he grabs his car keys, and hurries through the door.

You’re pacing. You haven’t stopped pacing ever since you’ve been home.

You haven’t responded to Ben’s message, but you reckon he’ll come anyway. You’re waiting for him, although, you wish he won’t come. You wish he’ll forget about all of this.

How could he though?

You expect him, still, you jump as someone knocks at your door. It’s quick, loud, desperate.

You stay frozen in the corridor, staring at the door, and the knocking starts again, more insistent this time around.

You hear Ben’s voice coming from the other side. It’s muffled by the wood, but you have no doubt that it’s him.

“Y/N? Are you here? Open up, please, it’s me. It’s Ben. Y/N?”

You can hear your phone ringing in the other room. You don’t have to look to know that he’s calling you.

You can’t run away. You can’t stay hidden either. Not forever. You’re the one who started it all with this stupid video anyway.

You take a deep breath, and before you can think this through, you stride to the door and open it.

You fall into Ben’s eyes as soon as he looks up, as he slowly lowers his phone from his ear.

You struggle to swallow.

“Come in,” you invite him, voice weak but it’s the best you can do.

You see him struggling to end his call, and he walks inside, following you to your living room. You remain standing though, and so does he. He glances over at your sofa, the one on which you were sitting on the video…

When he looks up at you again, he’s blushing fiercely. You’re not sure why, though. You’re the one who embarrassed yourself listening to Meghan’s stupid advices…

“We need to talk.”

He sounds out of breath, he seems nervous, as much as you are now.

“I know,” is all you can muster the strength to let out.

“I watched your video.”

“I know.”

“I…”

But his voice breaks, and all of a sudden, he’s at a loss for words. He’s spent his entire day thinking about this, and now… now he can’t bring himself to think about a single thing to say.

You see him blinking tears away, and you don’t understand. You never do. There have been signs for months, for years even, but you’ve never noticed. And it drives him crazy.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, shying away, averting your eyes, trying to hide even if you can’t.

“Why?”

“Because… I shouldn’t have done that…”

“You didn’t mean it?”

You look up at him, even if it’s hard. But he looks sad now, almost scared. Actually, he’s terrified.

“I did mean it. I just… I don’t want to lose you.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle, and you frown at the sound. He runs a hand across his face, all the way up to his hair, and he closes his eyes for a second, trying to slow his heart down.

“I’m sorry,” he finally breaks the heavy silence that had settled in the room. “I’m sorry, because… I shouldn’t have waited so long either. I’m sorry, because I shouldn’t have gone on that date with my neighbour but I… I tried to show you, over the years and I thought… I thought it was obvious, everybody else noticed. And so, I thought that if you didn’t tell me anything, it meant that you weren’t interested. We were friends. I thought… I thought you didn’t want to be more than that.”

You blinked a few times.

“I don’t understand,” you admit, making Ben let out this same breathy chuckle.

And he hesitates one last time. Because he’s a cautious man. A logical one. And especially when it comes to love, or when it comes to you, he doesn’t want to take too many risks.

But you’ve confessed. So… how risky can it be to just admit that he feels the same? That he’s felt the same for years…

But when he opens his mouth to speak, no sound wants to come out. He can’t let out as much as a whisper, not even a sigh.

He needs to show you though. He’s tired. And he loves you.

Fuck all this.

If he could, he would have said these words out loud, but he hasn’t found his voice back. Instead, he takes a step closer, reaches up to hold your face in his hands.

He doesn’t kiss you though. Not yet. You finally realise what he’s about to do, what he wants to do. But he gives you a chance to step back, to push him away.

Instead, you’re the one going on your tiptoes to kiss his lips.

And you’ve dreamt about this. About his palms on your cheeks, and his thumbs grazing your cheekbones, and the tip of his fingers in your hair. You’ve dreamt of how soft his lips would feel against yours, of the taste of his tongue, of the tickle of his beard on your chin. You’ve dreamt about all this, a thousand times over. Still, it’s nothing compared to the real thing…

Your kiss grows more desperate, more loving too. Until you’re melting in his embrace, your body fitting perfectly against his, and his hold on your face tightens a little to keep you close, as if he’s scared you’ll end the kiss too soon. You have no intention of ever stopping this, though…

When you finally pull away, you remain pressed to him, your fingers lost in his hair, and you rest your forehead against his, letting your two breaths mingle in the small space left between your faces.

Ben moves ever so slightly, bumping his nose into yours.

“I love you too.”

His voice is but a whisper, and there are a thousand things he needs to confess, but it can wait. For now, this is the most important thing he needs to say.

You’ve waited for this for so long…

“I want this to be serious,” you whisper, and you feel him nodding.

“Me too. But it’s… it’s going to be a mess.”

“I know.”

“We… we’ll make it work, though.”

“Do you think so?”

“We don’t have a choice.”

He grins. At long last, you do the same.

“I’m in love with you. Have been for a long time. Should have said it before but… You’re kind of blind.”

“Oh…”

He laughs.

“That’s okay. I… thank you. For finally saying it all. I was… I was losing hope, to be honest. Hence the date.”

“Oh…”

“Oh indeed.”

You bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathe in deeply his scent of oud and vanilla. He moves his hand to the back of your head to hold you closer, drops a peck to your hair, right above your ear.

“I couldn’t say it… like this. It was too scary. Meghan thought it would be easier through a screen.”

“For once, I’m glad she was eager to help with things that have nothing to do with her.”

You both laugh at that, even if it’s still a little shy, a little new, a little raw.

Still, it feels nice. Most of all, it feels right.

“Let’s go on a date. This Friday,” you offer.

“I’d love that. I’d love to have about a million more dates after that one…”

*************************

Taglist : @reg-arcturus-black @sergeantbuckybarnes @wolfmoonmusic

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

Hi M, how are you? Coming after the high of Shogun's yesterday's win at the Emmy's made me wonder if you have a favourite historical movie or tv show that is underrated or in the category more-people-should-watch-this? Hopefully you indulge in this type of movie. 😊

For example, for me, one such movie is "Master and Commander: The Far side of the World" :brilliant ensemble cast all across the board, good chemistry between the main leads, engaging story, very good soundtrack, fx that still hold, 99% hystorically accurate 😂 but despite this not many have heard or watched this movie.

Have a nice day!

P.S. can't believe that tomorrow the last episode of AYS will air 😭.

Hi @shimako! Sorry for answering your question late, but I postponed it because I kept trying to think of a list. And honestly, I saw the words historical drama and forgot the underrated part so this is a bit of a disaster, but I'll make it work. Let's just say this is an incomplete list of tv shows that had an impact on me at the time and ages that I had when I watched them. And you'll see that I barely remember the plot, but I sort of know how I felt.

1. Rome

Is this underrated? Hell no! But perhaps in today's age of tv, a lot of people have forgotten about that show. Only two seasons, but it was among the first batch of prestige tv in the middle of the 2000s. I liked it so much that it made go to the bookstore and buy a book about Caesar. If I went through my Egypt phase in middle school, then my Ancient Rome period came in high school.

2. The Borgias

At the time of its runtime, I think it was pretty big. Although I don't think it won many awards. I also remember it being used as an example on scholarly papers about Hollywood using Eastern and Central European studios because of cheap labor and good locations. Budapest and Prague can replace Florence, lol.

The Borgias was naughty. And it had Jeremy Irons who is a fantastic actor in my opinion. Eventually they actually leaned heavily into the siblings relationship which I thought was daring. They went there 👀. And the costumes were so beautiful!.

3. The Tudors

I remember this show through the eyes of a 13-14 year old that developed a massive crush on the actor portraying Henry the VIII. This was like the rock'n'roll version of the story. And it was sexy. A bit over the top. A stepping stone for some actors that would become a lot more famous in the years to come. I think it was on HBO so probably not underrated at the time, but mostly forgotten nowadays.

4. Versailles

I can't remember if it's French or they talk in English. But it was lots of fun. And really gay. They didn't stay away from that. That's all I remember, but give it a try.

5. Taboo

This is that show with a really brooding Tom Hardy who remains like that throughout the story. But if you're interested in 1800s London and England's imperialist plan and its effects on colonized territories, this might be it.

6. Babylon Berlin

I don't know if this fits into the list, but it is a great portrayal of 1920s Berlin. A period in which artistic freedom and experimentation was at its height, but also juxtaposed with political unrest, creating this environment that would lay the ground for the rise of the fascist party. It's a german show, an HBO production and I like that it's not glamourized. You can see it in their clothes, their hygiene habits, their visible sweat and run down outfits they wear in clubs. It feels real.

7. Black Sails

I first heard of this when I wanted to watch more Toby Stephens movies/series but I almost stayed away because it was a Michael Bay production. Black Sails is so smart. At first, it might lure in the wrong audience, even based on the first trailer. It looks like a pirate show full of action sequences and machismo. And then you actually watch it and it flips that exact narrative. It is a direct critique of imperialism. It is also such a good case for any film and gender & queer studies analysis. But more than that, what really sealed the deal for me in what is considered a grade B series with grade B actors, is the meta-textual discourse on storytelling. It's about creating those pirate legends, of creating narratives to protect themselves against the empire. And all that is unfolded through brilliant lines of dialogue. It still remains a 10/10 tv show for me and the actual underrated one.

[ingravinoveritas]

Is it just me or does it seem like Anna doesn’t have anything about Michael on her IG? I think the last thing I saw was when she and Michael went to see David’s play last year. Georgia hasn’t had anything about Michael either lately, but it just seems different. Or I’m reading too much into it. At least Georgia does have David on hers.

Hi there! I know you sent this several days ago and I've been a bit swamped, so apologies for taking so long to answer.

You are not at all reading too much into things, as a lot of what you mentioned is what many of us have noticed over the last few years, too. Anna puts Michael on her Insta when it's convenient/when there is something to sell (their relationship, typically). The most recent thing (before today, at least) was a picture from Mabli's first birthday party in May. Though she also posted this photo in a story on the same day that GO 2 was released (again, something to promote/sell):

This was obviously an old picture (likely taken midway through filming season 2, during the holiday break--so December 2021/January 2022), but it's telling that this is what she chose to post, instead of something new. And this again continues AL's pattern of posting terrible pictures of Michael, where he looks miserable and she looks smug. It seems like he was caught off-guard, too, as if she wanted a picture before he could put on his "game" face. There were so many choices happening here, and I'm genuinely confused by all of them.

Which then brings us today, and the bunch of photos/videos AL just posted for her birthday weekend, to again brag/show her "celebrating" with Michael. She posted multiple things, but I'm going to highlight these two in particular, as they stood out to me:

For those who can't tell, on the left is video of Michael at a parking meter machine, going to pay for parking. AL is making fun of him (again, which she has done multiple times previously), likely in an attempt to mimic the way Georgia pokes fun at David, yet lacking any of the underlying respect or affection that Georgia seems to have for David.

This (and AL's other stories from today) also continue her pattern of filming Michael surreptitiously/from a distance in order to generate content. In the story on the right, Michael is shooting basketballs and AL is standing behind him filming, rather than actually being in the moment, which gives the feeling of her wanting attention for herself more than wanting to enjoy her birthday with Michael. What also struck me about this and the other stories she posted is how cold and distant they seem. Pictures of empty drink glasses, a table, her sitting on the floor alone. The vibes are just completely "off" somehow, in my opinion, and it's noticeable.

What really stands out to me as well is that it doesn't look like either one of them were having that much fun. One thing we can say for certain about Michael and David--whether you ship them or not, whether you think something is going on between them or not--they always have fun together. We see it in the interviews they do, the interactions they have, how both of them are constantly smiling/laughing and there is never the feeling of one person monopolizing the spotlight--it's them, together, genuinely enjoying each other's company. Making each other laugh. And I just don't feel like that is the case with Michael and AL, because what I get from those stories today is a sense of obligation, rather than fun.

(I also think it's very telling and worth noting that in all of the stories AL posted, the only face that is full-on visible is her own...)

So yes, those are my thoughts on Michael being on AL's Insta and these new developments. As I've always said, I could be completely wrong about everything, but the fact that I've been getting more asks and comments about this makes me think others are starting to notice the questionable optics as well...