#it deserved box office success

[808sheartbreaks]

WHY WASNT THE FALL GUY MARKETED MORE AS A ROMCOM IT WAS SO GOOD

[whengeorgiawentblue]

Guys the new Indiana Jones movie is so good 🤩 I loved it

[controld3vil]

sand walking?

pairing(s): dune 2 cast x actor!reader (platonic!!)

synopsis: requested by this ask!

⤷ alt: how to seduce someone walking on sand.

notes: there hasn't been confirmed for dune 3 yet but denise villeneuve has said he's writing for it to happen. ill patiently wait for the day it's confirmed :) ALSO there are fictional/made-up mentions of the novel for the sake of the reader. they're made to be gender-neutral!! and this includes platonic flirting between cast members. i MAY have gotten carried lmaoo

“I mean- what do you think of the character? Do you think they deserved more screen time?” The clip starts off with you comfortably conversing with the interviewer. To say you weren’t deflecting their curiosity. In actuality, you were eager to learn what others thought about your performance and take on the character. The only other interpretation had on-screen was from the classic 1984 film by David Lynch.

The clip that has been widely retweeted back is of a cute moment you had from the first film of Dune (2021). Before release, little was known about your character’s potential. Apart from the enthusiastic book lovers, film viewers were clueless about what role your character would play after the first movie.

Denise Villeneuve didn’t reveal much to you in person. He wanted to keep ideas confidential until he was 100% on board making the project come to life. Still, rumors sparked through speculation and interviews with the cast members of Dune. Including an infamous short, that you forgot about, of yourself boasting about your hopes and wishes for your character.

“Yes! How could we not!” On the opposite side, the interviewer exclaimed as they leaned forward from their chair, closing into your proximity. Their hands clenched, tightening their grip on the flash card, full of questions. “The movie left us on such a cliffhanger. I think everyone would want to know what happened to Nerre,”

“That’s for Denise to decide,” Nodding you gave a relaxed smile while lifting one leg over the other. Your shoulders relaxed, feeling content and ecstatic about their response. “I can’t confirm anything until he gives me the green light to say anything,”

“I’ve also talked to Timothée this morning,” A shift in gears as the journalist flipped over another flashcard. You two had just fussed about the finale and its dramatic cliffhanger. “And all he had to say were the sweetest things about you,” At the mention of your costar compliments, you felt your skin heat up. Your eyes soften, expressing only fondness for the lovely message. A soft awh escaped your breath. “He’s very sweet. Timothee's always been fun to be around.” A fervent chuckle from the interviewer sends them into a feverish excitement. “And- he said- you had great flirting skills!” It was then your face morphed into complete shock and giddiness . “Really?!” The camera pans up on your initial reaction, eyes popping out in surprise and a bubbling laugh slowly erupting. “I’m glad someone appreciates my talents!”

Without context, the short clip seemed harmless. Your sheer reaction to Timothee's comment emphasized the fun chemistry the two of you had on set. Mirroring much of Paul and Nerre's friendship, you both complimented each other well in the first film, being the youngest surrounded by well-renowned actors. But the reason for the recent spike of interest was partially from Dune: Part Two and their interviews.

Fast forward to the debut of Dune: Part Two, it made success at the box office. Even surpassing the first film altogether. The entire cast of Dune was proud of the work they've made. The introduction of new characters played by wonderful actors and actresses all around.

Weeks after the early IMAX screenings, press interviews were being published amongst of the young cast members. A particular interview by IGV Presents brings together Timothee Chalamet, Zendaya, Florence Pugh, Austin Butler, and yourself.

This would be considered to be one of your first interviews with the Dune cast after the box office release. You felt nervous yet overjoyed at the same time to be meeting your co-actors again after the conclusion of filming had taken place.

The spokesperson of IGV, Simon Harkness starts off the interview strong with a pleasant greeting. "Congratulations on an incredible movie. Uhm it is the definition of a sci-fi blockbuster and is absolutely phenomenal, so huge congratulations to you all!"

"Thank you!" The five of you all politely cherish his kind words.

"It's so lovely to talk to you. Um- Timothee, Zendaya, I'm going to start with you. This is probably the hardest question I've ever asked in an interview so you've been warned." An endearing giggle can be seen from Zendaya before allowing him to continue. "Sand walking, who does it better?"

Timothee immediately lifts up his microphone. "I'm going to give it to Zendaya here." Without glancing at her, you could tell Zendaya was happily smiling at his compliments. How quick he was to answer made it seem how well connected the cast was even given the amount of time spent together. The main lead continues very swiftly, diving more into how cinematic the shot was from an outside perspective, "I think it's the most- one of the most cinematic shots in the movie and she really has it very precisely down but it's the nature of the movie too that she's supposed to be better than Paul,"

"Is that what it is?" In return, Zendaya who sat next to him gave him a teasing look.

Quietly from afar where you sat, next to Austin Butler, you whispered. "He acted like he couldn't do it but," Soft snickering can be heard across the room.

"In fairness to me, I was going 65%- 65 to 70 too hard," Chalamet reasons justly as he glances in your direction before looking back to the interviewer.

"You dumbed it down," Harkness nods in a high-spirited manner. Right after, Timothee reluctantly agrees, keeping the mood light-hearted.

"I had to!"

"Just how committed you are!" Austin steps in, joining in on the joke.

"Zendaya, you can take that crown. I love that," The brown-haired man reassures as she recuperates with appreciative laughter. In truth, it was a beautiful scene between Paul and Chani you were lucky enough to witness behind the camera. And contrary to their light banter, you thought both actors did well at accomplishing what it was meant sand walk. Truthfully you had no scenes beyond walking through the desert but understanding the mechanics and traditions of the Fremen was as fascinating as it was watching it up close.

Suddenly it was Florence's turn to speak, "Zendaya taught me the other day and I had to just stop to stare at her feet."

"The swoopy swoop?" You asked in a cutesy tone, with furrowed eyebrows. You couldn't help but remember the few instances you witnessed your costars practice the sand walk to be one of the more adorable rehearsals you've seen on the sand.

"Yeah, her feet were so pretty! She was doing the swoopy swoops," The blonde acknowledges, waving her hands in a zig-zag pattern. As the replication of water and how her feet moved.

The interviewer's eyes light up, "Honestly I tried to swoopy swoop at home- um because we have a carpet in the bedroom."

"How did it go?" The mixed actress puts forward.

"Awful!" An assembly of bewilderment is seen between Zendaya and Florence as they quickly question why. However, they reassure him in the end that they would practice together in hopes of him archiving the sand walk.

Talks with simple questions went down the row. Florence discusses her experience from her beginnings, starring in Little Women, comparing those scenes in terms of royalty to Dune. In both films, she's worked with well-known actors and now Christopher Walken as the emperor and her father. She raves about how it was a dream come true. A dream she had when she was little. From this experience, Florence emphasizes the concept of learning and observing her fellow actors.

Another intriguing topic follows Austin for his experience between learning choreography fighting and Elvis's iconic rubber legs. In a sense, as you leaned forward on one of your seats, you became fascinated by the Elvis actor's comparison of it all. While Elvis's moves were televised and had to be precise for the camera, being a Harkonnens gave him more leverage in the freedom to move. It was a captivating question that you couldn't help but want to listen to more.

Comparisons aside, you didn't have much to note for your upcoming question. Which is exactly why you felt unprepared for what he was going to ask.

Harkness brings up your name for the finale. "You have done stunt work before. For the first and now second film, I've heard you compared it to rather- dancing. Is that what you think your relationship with the choreography has been?"

You gave a content hum, "You see it with the Fremen or Harkonnens right? Everyone moves so differently and for the course for me, I've had to adjust my choreo little by little. And I think that analogy you mentioned really does relate back to dancing. I don't know if it's because I was once a dancer or that I'm a visual learner," You shrug your shoulders, "But I see the choreography as a dance routine. You're moving alongside people, doing hits and jabs. Both are very hands-on so I would like to approach it as something I can always work on." Satisfied with your answer, you clapped your hands together.

"Kind of like sand walking no?" It was then that Zendaya swerved counterclockwise to face you.

Bringing back the conversation they had in the beginning about sand walking, your eyes instantly brighten. "Exactly like that!"

"I feel like you would be great at sand walking," Florence puffs, mindlessly shaking her microphone back and forth. "You- You already got the moves." Even Timothee came into agreement, humming and commenting you worked well with the choreography.

Austin Butler raises his microphone. "I think you gotta learn with me because I don't think I could,"

"Nonsense!" You give him a silly glare. "If you can do a killer rubber leg, I think you can sand walk." Florence and Zendaya both mumble their support and your male costar leans to have his arm around the back of your chair, warmly.

"Is that an open invitation I see?" The spokesperson, Harkness giggly pokes at than the rest of the cast turns to look at you. Your scowl morphs into an innocent one.

"Hm?" As you squint your eyes in hesitation.

"I feel like you could have the potential to sand walk but just with the right partner," Timothee chimes in, spreading his arms over his chair as well. Your brows furrowed accusingly, as if wanting to clarify what he meant by his comment.

And the French actor gives you a look, one you became so sure of. "Mm right!" A slight eruption of laughs before you straightened your back with proper posture. "With just the right partner,"

There were also hints mentioned in your interview with Timothee surprisingly not. This was one of the more recent ones to be published, as you finally were able to pair up with your favorite co-star (besides Brolin) from the first film. The two of you had strong chemistry despite having less screen time together in the second film.

The beginning of the video cuts to a clip of you answering an innocent question. "What I think about every day, is Timothee going to send to me a meme today? Uh, I hope so!" You give a sarcastic look to your seat partner as he latently laughs in front of you. "Or when is he going to text me you know?"

It then transitions to an interviewer from Heart commercial radio as he shouts out your names. "How are you both?"

"I'm doing good!"

"Going great!"

The radio show was more relaxed than you would've expected as the spokesperson was very down to the earth with his conversation starters and contagious warmth. Timothee was able to catch up with him from his last interview when he premiered his Wonka film. Eventually, the interview became more casual discussing working together, cooking, and trendy topics.

Timothee and you both went back and forth on favorite memories you had of the first film. And talking about the new cast members and new elements it had brought to the table for the film itself.

"Cool new characters this time," As you played around with the fuzzy microphone the camera crew gave to you.

"Yup lots of new people to meet," Timothee adds on, nodding.

The interviewer proceeds with the question, "And also you have seen- there's a clip about of you running around actually." He signals to you, "Of your reaction to something Timothee said about your performance in the first film,"

"Oh! I've seen it," Almost instinctively, your co-star raises his hand. "I was supposed to send it to you but I forgot." As he turns, to finds you looking lost at the topic at hand.

"Really what was it?" You almost looked concerned, seeing how you didn't understand what they meant.

Luckily for you, the Heart radio spokesperson managed to get a hold of the video from his phone, "It was a little callback of Timothee raving about your flirting skills."

As it plays, the camera zooms in on you and your co-actors reaction. The French actor couldn't help but look slightly embarrassed but smitten when the timing of your reaction came on screen. While you held an intrigued stance, arms crossed and a content grin.

"I am pretty good at flirting,"

"You really are, huh." At the same time, you both turn to make eye contact.

"I also heard Tim- that you thought that they would be your love interest initially?" At the radio speaker's inquiry, you couldn't help but in mid-sentence, finally, swerve your head suddenly.

"Yeah well, fun fact actually," The male actor tries to reason, sitting up. "In the novels, Paul and Nerre almost did become a couple!"

It was a well-known fact of that in the first novel, there had been slight changes to the story. Initially, it was said that the author, Frank Herbert had planned for Paul and Nerre, the character you played to have a romantic connection after the fall of House Atreides. Nevertheless, it was later scrapped for another plot, that of instead having Chani as the love interest. But even decades later after the novel’s release, it was something fans still fuss about.

"Oh, I heard about that!" Almost in awe, you nodded, your attention fully on Chalamet, wondering how far he was willing to go beyond spoilers.

"Do you think Nerre would ever meet someone then?" The afro man questions, adjusting his microphone. "Since- Paul has Chani, I feel like if we ever get a potential third film, that could open some doors!"

"If a third film could happen," You start, fiddling with the lining of the mic cover, "I hope so! I mean I got the moves, I got the skills!"

"Keep practicing your sand walk and we'll see," Timothee cutely chimes as you proceed to blow a raspberry at him. Only for him to lightly swat you away.

Despite your failures to have scenes of sand walking, your cast of a crew were more than happy to show you. Javier Bardem and Jessica Ferguson were quite supportive in your interest for something you did not have any part-time. A few behind the scene videos show the actor demonstrating from afar the slower version of the walk.

Though your back was facing the camera, viewers would pick up and recognize it to be you. Jessica as well was off to the side, in her luminescent costume of a million robes, clapping from side to side.

Another later pans to you taking long strides across the sand in the background. In front of the camera are Josh Brolin and Javier having their turn in the video, to discuss their relationship and the previous they have worked on together. However, viewers couldn't help but pinpoint your figure alongside the frame trying to master the patterns of what Javier taught you from the previous clip.

[blarshwritezz]

Yandere ceo × male actor reader. I imagine that the CEO is the owner of one of the biggest Hollywood agencies of all time and is a reference in entertainment, he is the cold type and gets to know you during an event.

The reader is an actor who appears in successful films and he is nice compared to the ceo.

I imagine Ceo would make indecent proposals to you and force you to marry him

Capital idea!

Yandere CEO x Actor Reader

Male yan x male reader

TW - general yandere behavior, slight NSFW abuse of power, manipulation

"What do you say, won't you be my husband? You know what will happen if you don't..." CEO!Yan whispered, his hot breath tickling your ear as his bruising grip on your waist tightened further. Is this really what your life has come to?

You never expected anything like this to happen when you met nearly two years ago. You were at a party hosted by your company to celebrate what a success your latest movie was.

It was your first time in a lead role, and you absolutely crushed it! It was a massive success at the box office, one of the greatest hits ever produced by your agency!

The CEO even showed up, much to everyone's surprise. You've seen him in the news and on interviews, but he was much more attractive in person. But also so much more intimidating, too. You swore just one gaze from him could freeze you over.

The first time you spoke was when he congratulated you on the role. Specifically, on using that role to fill his pockets with more money. He didn't seem genuine, not at all. He even made a few remarks about how, despite the massive success, you still could have done better.

You thanked him kindly and went off to enjoy your night. You wanted to keep that as your only interaction. Keyword, wanted. With other people, you enjoyed lighthearted conversations. You made sure to remind people that seemed to be giving you a little too much credit that it wouldn't have turned out even half as good without the entire team. You enjoyed a few drinks with your team, maybe a few too many.

Having gotten tipsy and way too brave, you approached the CEO once again. You just couldn't stop staring! He was hot, and you deserved some action after all the hard work you did.

You approached him, flirting a bit. Telling him how good he looked on that custom-tailored suit.

"You know, I look much better without it." He put a hand on your waist, sliding it down and giving your ass a good squeeze. "Why don't you come spend the night at my place? I can assure you, you'll get plenty more roles like this."

And the next thing you knew, you were waking up in his bed, your ass sore from the night before. Well, more specifically, you woke up laying on his chest with one of his arms holding you in place.

That definitely made you wake up. You couldn't believe it! Did you really sleep with your boss?! Sure he was hot and, now that it was coming back to you, really good in bed, but that wasn't what was important here! What if you lose your job over this?! And right as you were really starting to get a name for yourself too.

You carefully crawled out of his arms, trying to find your clothes so you could leave. You could only hope that he wouldn't remember the events of last night.

But oh he did. Like promised, you were soon offered a role in an upcoming movie. The lead role. And with it, a little note saying the spot was guaranteed to be yours...if you just stopped by his office. And if not, he'd ruin your career...

So it became something of a routine. You got incredible roles, and all at the price of your body...in interviews and when speaking to fans, you would always be congratulated and complimented. You really were an incredible actor!

But deep down you knew that you were most likely ruining someone else's chances. There were plenty of other talented actors in this industry that were actually putting in the effort to get parts like this.

But at the same time, he'd absolutely ruin your reputation and career if you didn't do what he said. He had the power and influence to absolutely end your social life, even if you left the industry.

Slowly, your encounters became more...intimate. More loving. He'd start taking you out on genuine dates, and on some rare occasions those dates wouldn't end with him pumping you full of his seed like usual.

He'd even visit you on set! The only issue was how touchy and clingy he got. He'd glare at anyone who got too close to you, even if it was for a scene. People definitely noticed, and rumors soon spread that you two were together.

You told him to tell the truth, to let everyone know that you weren't really together. And what did he say? "Why should I deny it? You're mine, and everyone should know."

Everyone definitely knew, and slowly they all resented working with you. They knew the only reason you got so many roles was because of your relationship with him. And they all avoided you like the plague, fearing what he might do if they got too close.

It kept getting worse and worse, leading you down a spiral of self hatred. He was the reason you were getting things you didn't deserve! But he was the only one who made you feel better, holding you tight and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Telling you how much you did deserve it. How much you impressed him every day.

All that leading to this moment. Him holding you close as if he hadn't just massacred your throat, all while slipping a ring on your finger.

"Remember, if you say no, you won't have me to protect you from all those awful people. You deserve the world, my dear~"

And we got it! I don't know if you really wanted much nsfw or not, but I added some anyway.

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen: Wembley

Plot: After a devastating blow is dealt to Y/n and Keeley, Jamie invites Y/n to join him for his England debut.

Word Count: 6.4k

Warning: f!reader, language, alcohol, allusion to smut

A/N: GUYS WE HAVE ARRIVED. I had to take an unexpected month break because I was just burning out. Thanks to all of you for staying patient and being so kind. But y’all, I’ve been looking forward to this chapter for a long time. I won’t say too much or else I’ll say everything so relax, sit back, and enjoy 💖

——————

Y/n wasn’t sat at her desk refreshing her inbox every fifteen seconds.

Absolutely not.

She wasn’t.

Except she was.

She knew full well that Ted had the list of which Greyhounds would be playing during international break. She could pop downstairs and probably hear the announcement. But it wasn’t her place to barge in on the boys’ moment. And that was fine with her. Totally fine.

“Come on, come on, come on,” she mumbled, waiting for the league’s PR department to end her suffering.

Finally, it arrived.

Y/n leaned closer to her laptop screen and flew past the pleasantries. The names…

She exclaimed something between a gasp and a scream.

Without another thought, she leapt out of her chair, flew through the hall and down the stairs. Luckily, the team was just heading out for practice.

“Let’s go, Greyhounds!” Y/n cheered, an echoing chorus following.

She hugged and congratulated Colin, Dani, Van Damme and Bumbercatch, all of them giddily accepting her thanks. Y/n had a new appreciation for each of the Greyhounds after observing so many training sessions. They put their hearts and soul into their craft and deserved every bit of their success.

As the boys headed out to the pitch, Y/n stayed in the hall, waiting for one player in particular to emerge.

Finally, Jamie came out of the locker room nearly bursting with joy.

As if she could feel the air change, Y/n spun around, grinning. The two of them collided in a crushing embrace, Jamie lifted her off the ground.

“Oh my gosh,” she squealed into his shoulder, “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Jamie said. He’d taken an extra long minute fixing himself for training. He’d heard Y/n’s voice in the hall congratulating the lads and wanted to share his own moment with her away from everyone else.

He finally set her down, giving Y/n the chance to properly face him. “Jamie,” she bounced a little, gripping his shoulders, “England. Fucking England.”

Jamie laughed, still holding onto her hips.

“Fucking England,” she said once more, looking him over proudly, “This is amazing.”

They stood there, inches away from being back in each other’s arms, til Ted and Beard’s distant voices grew closer. They dropped their hands just as the coaches came out of their office.

“Hey, Y/n,” Ted greeted as he walked past. Beard nodded.

“Hey,” she smiled.

Jamie shot her an apologetic look as he trailed after them, wishing nothing more than to stay in the hall, just the two of them. Y/n smiled at him once more, sending him off with something he could hold to the rest of the day.

A 10-game streak, a stacked international break…somewhere months ago, Y/n would have been waiting for the other shoe to drop. A plane to fall out of the sky. Some natural disaster to hit.

No, all was well. And it felt damn good.

—————————

It all came crashing down a few days later.

Keeley and Y/n had met for a morning coffee before work. Keeley was back to her normal self, post-leak and post-Jack. Y/n was glad for it, the universe felt unbalanced if Keeley wasn’t her usual sunshiny self.

At the KJPR office, they waited for the elevator. Once it arrived, a casually dressed man pushed a dolly of boxes past them.

“Didn’t know anyone was moving out,” Y/n commented as they got in the car.

“Me neither,” Keeley replied.

The doors opened on their floor and they exited, coming around the corner only to nearly get clipped by two movers with a couch.

“Shit!” Keeley exclaimed, grabbing Y/n’s arm as they jumped out of the way.

Y/n eyed the rest of the room. All the desks were covered in boxes and most of their furniture had disappeared.

“Keeley…” she said lowly.

Dan, a man Y/n had only met properly once or twice, walked up to them. He was carrying a box of desk supplies in both hands.

“Keeley,” he addressed, “You are the nicest boss I’ve ever had.”

“Thank you, Dan,” Keeley replied, brows knitted in confusion.

“And definitely the hottest,” he finished.

“That’s a complicated compliment.”

Dan left with a thanks, moving past the two women.

“What…” Y/n trailed off.

Keeley led them to Barbara’s office, who was also packing up her desk.

“Barbara, what’s going on?” Keeley asked, “Are we being slowly robbed?”

“Oh,” Barbara ceased her packing, “Wait, I’m sorry. You haven’t spoken with Jack?”

“I haven’t heard from Jack in weeks.”

Barbara stammered, “But she emailed me last night to say that she was gonna reach out and tell you.”

Y/n’s stomach clenched with familiar dread.

“Tell me what, Barbara?” Keeley asked.

Barbara, for all the grief she’d given Keeley, didn’t appear to take any pleasure in delivering the news. She had to steady herself even. “The board of the VC have decided to pull funding. They’re shutting down KJPR.”

Y/n’s breath left her chest.

“What?” Keeley whispered, “When?”

“Oh, well, don’t worry, we’ve got plenty of time,” Barbara reassured, “We don’t have to be out till Friday.”

Keeley was barely audible, “It’s Wednesday.”

Barbara faltered, “Yeah, I suppose that is…quite soon, isn’t it? Especially if you didn’t get an email last night.”

When there was nothing else to say, Barbara awkwardly went back to packing her things, leaving Keeley and Y/n dumbstruck.

Somehow, Y/n made her feet move out of the office and into the main space. Her head was spinning. It had taken less than a minute to crack her world open and split it in two.

“I need a minute,” Keeley mumbled.

Too stunned to reply, Y/n wandered off into the conference room. The table and chairs were still there, she sunk into one of them.

As one of the employees, Y/n should have gotten an email like anyone else. The only factor that could have changed that was Keeley. Jack knew they worked closely together, they could be considered friends. If this was revenge on Keeley for their break-up, Jack wouldn’t hesitate to take it out on those closest to her ex. And just like that…Y/n became collateral damage.

She rested her elbows on the table, running her hands over her face. The first job she’d ever loved, and it was gone. Every part of working for AFC Richmond that she adored, had just been taken from her. No more training, no more time with the fans, no more overseeing pressers and interviews, no more coming down the hall and seeing the boys…

The tears came quick.

A few moments later, Keeley knocked on the door and entered at Y/n’s mumbled ‘yeah.’ Both women had wet eyes and snot under their noses.

“I’m so sorry,” Keeley managed over the lump in her throat.

Y/n sniffled, her hands covering most of her face. If she was being honest, there was a small part of her that resented Keeley. Never get involved with someone from work, that was corporate 101.

“Me too,” she replied. Regardless of her bad judgement, Keeley hadn’t deserved to lose the company. She wasn’t the one at fault.

Keeley took the chair next to Y/n’s, feeling like a stray tree in the wind. Swaying, ready to break at the slightest gust.

The very thought of what had to be said sent a stabbing pain through Y/n’s gut.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll pack up my things this weekend. At Richmond.”

Keeley didn’t think she could handle any more, but knowing that Y/n was losing the place that made her happiest just worsened the blow.

“Thank you,” Y/n whispered, “For…coming up to me in that bar.”

It was that sentiment that sent Keeley back over the edge, the gentle sobs returning. On cue, Y/n’s followed and the two of them twisted to grip each other’s hands, sitting knee to knee. They mourned all they had built, together and apart.

—————————

Eight months after her last sacking, Y/n was in the exact same position: sat at a bar, drinking a glass of red wine.

This time, the bar was her flat. Being anywhere around people sounded horrifying. She was content to wallow in the apartment she already feared she’d have to give up.

Unlike the other times she’d been let go, Y/n couldn’t bear to think about the next steps. The minute she’d told Keeley she’d get her things from Nelson Road, she’d banished the thought. She couldn’t bear the thought, the pain of telling the boys, Rebecca, Ted…of leaving the parking lot for the last time. Every time her mind began to try and think practically, she took another sip of the merlot.

The depressing silence was broken up by a ring of her doorbell. Y/n let her head drop as she dragged herself off the barstool. She couldn’t come up with the name of a single person she wanted to see at the moment.

Trudging down the last of the stairs, she looked through the peephole, seeing a familiar mop of mussed up hair and sharp cheekbones.

Y/n quickly wiped under her eyes, praying her waterproof mascara had done its job. If she wasn’t ready to tell anyone the news, Jamie was in a category of his own. The thought of not seeing him every day was crippling.

She opened the door, Jamie flashing a smile as soon as he laid eyes on her.

“Hey,” Y/n grinned thickly, “I thought you were supposed to be up in Stafford.”

“Yeah, just got back,” Jamie glanced back to the street where his car was parked.

“How was it?”

“Fucking,” Jamie shut his eyes, still beaming, “Mental.”

Y/n genuinely chuckled. At least one of them was doing well. “That’s great.”

“Yeah,” Jamie finally got a good look at Y/n. Her face was drawn, despite her smile. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, and her gaze was distant, despite being zeroed in on him. “You alright?”

Y/n thinned her lips in an exaggerated frown and shrugged, “Yeah, fine.”

Jamie wasn’t convinced, “You sure?”

Clearly months out of practice from hiding her feelings had left her skills dulled. Y/n sighed, leaning up against the doorframe, “It’s just been a long fucking day.”

“What happened?” Jamie’s brows knitted in worry.

“Nothing specific,” Y/n lied straight through her teeth, “Just tired.”

Jamie nodded, slightly assured that he could move onto the reason for his visit.

“Well, hey, I think I can cheer you up,” he took a breath as if preparing for something big. “Come with me to the match.”

Y/n tilted her head, “What?”

“The Wembley match. They’re puttin’ us up in a hotel tomorrow night, and the game’s on Friday,” Jamie explained, hope glistening in his eyes, “Come with me.”

If they were discussing some random away game, Y/n wouldn’t have thought anything of it. But this…this was England. This was something Jamie had dreamed of since he was a child. This meant everything to him, and he wanted her to share it with him. Y/n didn’t take a word of it lightly.

“I can get ya an extra room,” Jamie took her stunned silence as doubt, “I’ll tell ‘em I need my publicist with me.”

“I don’t think being the club’s publicist gets me that kind of privilege,” Y/n tried to ignore the ache in her chest. That title didn’t belong to her anymore.

“Does if you’re with me,” Jamie smirked.

Y/n chortled, “Right. I’m rolling with the big dogs. Forgot.”

“Look,” Jamie took a step closer, his hands resting in the space between them, nearly reaching out to her. “I really want you there. Really.”

There was a softness to Jamie’s stare that he always saved for Y/n, and a determination he wore any time he stepped on the pitch. If she didn’t want to come, he wouldn’t force her, but he wasn’t going down without fighting his hardest.

Y/n really had no reason to say no. She wouldn’t be at work, she had no commitments…and honestly, getting away sounded nice. To step outside of Richmond for a little while and get some distance before she had to deal with the reality of her situation. And more than anything, she wanted to cheer on Jamie.

“Okay.”

Jamie’s brows shot up, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/n smiled, her first true one of their conversation.

“Great,” Jamie grinned and fiddled with his hands, “Okay, uh, I’ll pick you up tomorrow, 12-ish. Drive over together.”

“I mean, I can drive myself,” Y/n replied, “You don’t need to be picking me up with everything you’ll have going on.”

Jamie shrugged, “I know.” There was no discussion to be had.

“Okay,” Y/n conceded, “I’ll be ready.”

“Okay,” Jamie smiled, awkwardly holding the silence. He didn’t want to let the conversation end, but there was nothing left to say. “Well, uh, I’ll let you get back to your night.”

“Go,” Y/n gestured to the street, “Rest. You’re only representing the whole country.”

He laughed, walking backwards to steal one last glance at Y/n. If someone would have told Jamie that eight months before, his ex-girlfriend’s new hire would end up meaning enough to him to share his England debut with, he wasn’t sure what he’d have thought. But he wouldn’t have believed it. “See ya.”

Y/n gave a small wave, matching his warm smile until the distance forced them to break. She was still neck deep in shit, but for a moment, the sun felt like it was shining.

—————————

Y/n supposed as she packed her overnight bag, that if she forgot anything important, she could just Uber back to her flat. For whatever reason, she was afraid she was leaving something off the list.

The initial excitement she’d felt when Jamie had invited her had long since died. It seemed the depression that set in after losing your job took twenty four hours of fermenting to truly come to life.

She was nearly done packing when she was sorting through a drawer of t-shirts, spotting a brightly colored blue and red one she had tucked at the bottom. She pulled it out and unfolded it.

The jersey Jamie had gifted her for Christmas.

A small smile pulled at her face, remembering the night he’d given it to her. True to her word, she hadn’t worn it to any matches. She couldn’t possibly give him that satisfaction.

Through the insanity that was working at AFC Richmond, there had been many constants. Ted’s awful jokes, Roy’s sour mood, weekly tea with Rebecca…but Jamie had l become the most unexpectedly steady thing in Y/n’s life. A safe place to land in any situation. If it wasn’t for Jamie, she wasn’t sure how she would have made it thus far.

She smiled.

Without a second thought, Y/n folded the jersey back up and tucked it in her suitcase. Jamie was the focus, and she’d amplify his joy however she could.

Her phone pinged with a text alert, the man himself messaging her that he was parked outside. Y/n zipped up her bag, grabbed her purse, and headed downstairs.

Jamie was propped against his car, spinning the keys in his fingers. He supposed he should have felt nervous, twenty four hours away from his England debut, but he felt at peace. He wasn’t entirely sure why until he spotted Y/n’s figure coming down her street.

“Jamie Tartt, do do do do do do,” she sang once she got close enough, “Jamie Tartt, do do do do do do…”

“Lovely,” Jamie chuckled before reaching out for her bag, “Let’s have it.”

“There’d better be room for it,” Y/n handed the suitcase over.

Jamie popped the boot, “How much you think I travel with?”

“I mean, hair products alone has to equate to two carry ons,” Y/n replied, “Jewelry, trainers, socks, that’s another two…the ego’s gotta take up, what, four?”

Jamie shut the boot, leaning on it as he listened. “I’m happy to leave you here. Watch the match on Sky Sports.”

“Sorry, too late,” Y/n smirked as she rounded the car, Jamie met her on the passenger side. The two of them stood with mere inches between them. “You’re stuck with me, Tartt.”

Their smug smiles melted into something far more warm, the emotional weight of the trip was too overwhelming to be ignored too long.

“Not a bad deal,” Jamie said softly.

“You’re playing for England,” Y/n whispered.

Jamie’s grin spread up his cheeks, reaching to tug Y/n into an embrace. Gentler than the one they’d shared after the news had broke, but matching in enthusiasm.

“Right, gotta get going,” Jamie broke away and went to the driver’s side, “Check-in’s in an hour.”

The traffic they hit made it so they’d arrive just at their appointed time. On the way, Y/n avoided any topic that could tie them back to work, and Jamie recounted a party he’d attended two days before.

“Wait…” Y/n laughed, “You’re telling me that Roy Kent - Roy Kent - has to wear a tie-dye shirt?”

“Swear down,” Jamie replied.

“Roy Kent,” Y/n repeated. The image was too insane to imagine. “Growling-in-the-halls, leather-jacket-wearing, black-coffee, black-clothes, black-everything Roy Kent.”

Jamie nodded.

Y/n fell back against the seat, “I don’t believe you.”

“I’m not playin’ ya,” Jamie laughed, one hand resting comfortably on the steering wheel, “Saw it with me own eyes.”

“And I can’t believe it till I see it with mine,” Y/n shook her head. “So, wait, you left training because Phoebe called you and invited you to a party for a pretend holiday for the man who makes your life a living hell?”

Jamie wasn’t sure how to explain it. How his relationship with Roy had gone from childhood idolization to rivalry to tolerance to mentor/mentee to…something almost, nearly, bordering…friendship? But when he’d gotten the call from Phoebe and her mum, Roy’s niece inviting him to Uncle’s Day, he hadn’t needed to give it a second thought. He’d even taken the time to track down a gift meaningful enough to crack Roy’s stony exterior.

“Dunno,” he shrugged casually, “Didn’t want to disappoint her.”

“Mmm,” Y/n nodded, pretending to buy it, “Nothing to do with the fact that you two are actually…friends?”

Jamie looked out the window, checking the space around them, “Right, you can walk from here.”

Y/n snorted, crossing her arms across her chest. Beyond the teasing, she found it incredibly sweet that Jamie would drop what he was doing not just for Roy, but for Phoebe. It echoed the same kindness he’d shown to Henry when he’d visited. She supposed it came from Jamie’s childhood, the same drive she had to make sure any kid she came across was happier than she’d been at their age.

“It’s cute.”

Jamie quirked a brow as he switched lanes, “What?”

Y/n shrugged, “Jamie Tartt’s got a soft spot for kids.”

The tingling in his chest confused Jamie. But knowing Y/n thought him admirable was…nice.

He played it off, of course, “Haven’t even told you about the play.”

Y/n slapped her hands together, “Oh, please God tell me it was interactive.”

“It was fucking Shakespearean,” Jamie laughed, before launching into the multi-hour long production Phoebe and Roy’s sister had staged.

Once they arrived at the hotel, they checked-in separately. It was an easy way for Y/n to keep herself out of any photo sightings of Jamie and she was extra happy she’d thought it out when some of his teammates arrived. She headed to the elevator while Jamie greeted them, loading into the car. Once he saw she was already off, Jamie rushed through goodbyes to catch the lift with her.

“Right,” Y/n said as they landed on the 10th floor, looking between her key and the door numbers, “I’m 502.”

“507,” Jamie replied, “End of the hall, I think.”

They found Y/n’s room first and paused outside the door.

“Right, so dinner tonight?” Jamie suggested, “I mean, it’ll mostly be me watchin’ you eat, but…”

“Jamie, no,” Y/n screwed her face, “We can have dinner literally any other night. Go be with the team.”

He knew that was what he was expected to do, and part of him wanted to go bond with the boys but…she was here. And as much as he wanted to hang with his teammates, everyone drifted to second priority when Y/n was around.

“You sure?” Jamie asked.

“Yes,” Y/n insisted, reaching out and taking his arm, “Go enjoy this. You earned it. I’m just gonna get room service and get to bed boringly early.”

Jamie chuckled, looking down at the ground. His skin jumped to life under her touch. “Alright,” he smiled up at her, “I got a ticket reserved for you at will call.”

“Okay,” she nodded.

“And…” Jamie searched for something, anything else to say, coming up short, “Yeah. Think that’s it.”

“Hey,” Y/n squeezed his arm, beaming with pride, “You’re gonna kill it.”

Jamie’s smile grew in the way only she could harvest out of him. Something about her belief in him made him feel like he could play the whole fucking match himself.

“I’ll see ya tomorrow,” he said, though he didn’t move.

“See you tomorrow,” Y/n echoed, rubbing his shoulder before breaking apart and unlocking her door. Jamie took it as his cue to drag his own suitcase down the hall, five doors down.

Y/n did a lap around her room, taking stock of where everything was. It was a nice fucking hotel, though she shouldn’t have expected anything else. She set her suitcase in the corner, there was no need to go to the trouble of unpacking for a two night stay.

She dropped onto the edge of the bed. With Jamie off and the room mapped out, there was nothing to do but sit with her thoughts.

Y/n sighed, her chest returned to feeling hollow, knowing this life was about to disappear. No more traveling with the Greyhounds, the endless chatter on long bus rides, her room being sandwiched between two of they boy’s and dealing with their late night shenanigans that typically resulted in a large check being written to the hotel…

She grabbed the bedside phone, dialing the corresponding number on the paper below it. She couldn’t deal with being sad sober or on an empty stomach. “Yes, room service? Can I have a bottle of wine and the chef’s special delivered to room 502? Thank you.”

It was going to be a long night.

——————

The next morning, Y/n took advantage of getting to sleep in on Friday. The game wasn’t until noon, she set her alarm for ten. She ordered breakfast to the room and ate in bed. Sadness went well with pancakes, she found.

Eventually, she got dressed for the match. She smiled to herself as she slipped the ‘#9’ jersey over her tank top. It would be the first, and most likely only opportunity she’d have to wear it.

Wembley was close enough to the hotel that she didn’t bother ordering an Uber, choosing instead to join the crowds and walk. She’d forgotten just how massive the stadium was when she arrived at the ticket booth.

“Hi,” she greeted the guy working will call, “There should be a ticket under the name ‘Y/l/n.’”

The man fished through a few envelopes before reaching into one and slipping a ticket under the glass window. “Enjoy the match, love.”

“Thank you,” she smiled.

It had been years since Y/n had been to Wembley, the last time for a concert fresh off of graduation. She couldn’t remember the section numbers and locations to save her life.

Once she got inside, she found a security guard. “Excuse me? Could you point me towards section…” she read her ticket once more, “120?”

The guard glanced at her ticket before pointing her towards a massive staircase. “All the way down, midfield.”

“Okay,” Y/n headed off, calling back to him, “Thank you.”

She melted into the crowd and followed them down the stairs. She kept looking between her ticket and the descending rows of seats, realizing when she hit the ground that Jamie hadn’t just gotten her a seat…he’d gotten her one in the front row.

Y/n made her way down, past families and groups of friends, finding her seat was on the aisle. It allowed her a perfect view of the field, Jamie would most certainly be able to spot her.

The atmosphere before the match was a welcome cheeriness, Y/n couldn’t help but get caught up in the excitement of it. It was hard to be depressed with 90,000 people around you cheering and singing.

The teams marched out onto the pitch, their respective fans standing and screaming. Y/n was on her feet as soon as England was out, spotting Jamie towards the back. He was on the reserve squad and came out near last. She hoped he would get at least a few minutes on the field.

Jamie was caught up in the moment enough that he didn’t search for Y/n. Knowing she was there was enough.

By the second half of the match, England was up by a point, but Jamie still had yet to get on the pitch. Y/n was fidgeting more with each minute that passed, hoping that this would be the point that #9 would tire out enough and Jamie could sub in.

Finally, it happened. Jamie came off the bench as one of the refs held up the board, announcing Jamie’s arrival and his number. #24.

Y/n pressed a hand to her heart, her lips falling open in a loose smile. It was a hell of statement after their #24 had been passed over for the Nigerian league. But more importantly, it was an incredibly touching gesture. Sam had to have been beaming shyly, wherever he was watching from.

Jamie got onto the pitch and first ended up assisting in one goal. When the clock came down to the last five minutes, he shot across the field, catching the ball from one of his teammates and running it down the pitch.

“Come on, Jamie,” Y/n muttered under her breath, her eyes glued to him. He could make it.

Faking left and spinning around to the right, Jamie power kicked the ball toward the net, evading the goalie and landing a perfect shot.

Y/n shot out of her seat with the rest of the crowd, screaming as loud as she could.

Jamie looked pleased, his nearest teammates slapping him across the back in congratulations. He turned to the crowd and grinned, soaking in the moment he’d been waiting for since he was a kid. The whole stadium was cheering for him.

His eyes floated to section 120, finding the furthest seat and the woman occupying it. Their eyes met and Jamie caught the unmistakable Greyhound blue underneath her coat, his chest suddenly swelling with something deeper than pride. She’d worn the fucking shirt.

Y/n grinned at him, raising her fists above her head. Jamie patted his chest, just above his heart, smiling right back at her.

England ended up winning, of course, and Y/n felt like she was floating. She couldn’t get up the stairs fast enough, hurrying through the concourses till she found two doors with ample security stood outside.

“Hi,” she said, nearly out of breath, “I work at AFC Richmond. I need to see Jamie Tartt,” Y/n pulled out her phone as she saw the guard inhaling to turn her away, “I have proof of employment.”

She pulled up an email exchange with Higgins and held up her employee ID, matching the signature to the card. The guard nodded, “Come with me.”

Y/n followed down the hall, stopping outside the locker room as the guard instructed her to wait. The commotion inside could be heard all down the hall, chants and cheers from the boys echoing off the walls.

A few seconds later, Jamie emerged, soaked in champagne and sweat.

Neither of them hesitated to launch into one another’s arms, Jamie full on lifting and spinning her around. They were a mess of laughs and squeals and smiles.

“You did it,” Y/n grinned, her arms tight around Jamie’s neck.

“We fucking did it,” he growled happily, still twirling her in the air.

“Jamie,” Y/n laughed as he finally dropped her. She held his face in her hands, “You were incredible. You were fucking amazing.”

Jamie beamed, finally feeling whole. He’d been waiting all day to hug her.

“My gosh,” Y/n smiled, on the verge of tears.

“Not a bad seat either, yeah?” Jamie smiled.

“You just fucking played for England and that’s what you wanna talk about?” Y/n exclaimed as she lightly shoved his chest.

Jamie’s hands fiddled agaisnt Y/n’s waist, the adrenaline from the game still pulsing through. He rubbed the extra material of the shirt, his shirt, between his fingers.

He cocked a brow, “Thought you said you’d never wear this.”

Y/n shrugged playfully, “I had a compelling reason.”

There was enough electricity running through them both without the added crackling of their hands, the pure lightning that was striking between their eyes. It was a moment so full of emotion, if it lasted much longer, it stood the chance to naturally lead to something…

“Oi! Tartt!”

Jamie and Y/n dropped their hands, the outside presence causing embarrassment they didn’t know they felt. Jamie nodded back at one of his teammates, “Yeah?”

“Get the fuck back in here,” he gestured back to the room. The celebration hadn’t stopped in Jamie’s absence.

“Yeah, be in a minute,” Jamie distractedly smiled before turning back to Y/n, “Right-“

“Jamie,” Y/n shook her head, smiling knowingly, “Go. Go celebrate your moment.

He hesitated, truthfully, he didn’t want her to be so encouraging. “Yeah, but we gotta celebrate too,” Jamie reached out for her hands.

“And we will,” Y/n replied, squeezing his palms, “But now, you’re gonna go in there, you’re going to get absolutely shit-faced and create a million horrible headlines for me to issue a million and one apologies for.”

Jamie snorted and stared down at their intwined hands. Half of him was itching to get back in the locker room, the other stayed right where he was.

“Go,” Y/n repeated.

Jamie tugged her back to his chest, the two of them fitting together as perfectly as ever. He was so unbelievably glad she’d said yes to coming. Looking out into the stands, seeing her cheering for him had boosted his spirits in a way nothing else could.

Even as he broke away, he left backwards. “I mean it,” Jamie pointed at her, “We’re fucking celebrating.”

Y/n just laughed and shoved the air, staying till he disappeared back into the locker room. Jamie’s ecstasy was feeding her, the victory lifting them both up sky high. She was so glad she hadn’t turned him down.

The security guard escorted her out to the concourse and she found her way back to the hotel. Each street was echoing with chants and cheers for England, the whole of London was buzzing. It was beautiful.

Y/n got back to her room, turning on the TV to Sky Sports and watching the recap. Jamie, of course, made the conversation, both his goal and his kit number were heavily discussed.

Y/n smiled when Sam’s name came up, pulling her phone out and sending an array of appropriate emojis to the young Nigerian along with his number. He fired back a few red hearts in reply.

Roughly an hour had passed when there was a knock at the door. Y/n slid out of bed confused. She hadn’t ordered dinner yet.

She opened the door to find Jamie, hair combed, showered and out of his kit, leaning against her door frame.

“I thought I told you to go spend time with the team,” Y/n chuckled in surprise.

“I did,” he shrugged, “Now it’s our turn.”

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t kill the growing grin. She wanted the day to be everything Jamie wanted, but she couldn’t deny the ever-present desire to stay in his field of gravity. If he was here willingly, she wasn’t going to fight him.

She matched his posture and leaned against the frame, “What’d you have in mind?”

“Dinner, club,” Jamie listed off the options, “Go to the top of the Shard, scream as loud as we can.”

Y/n laughed, “I can do that.”

“Good,” Jamie smiled, looking down at his watch, “You got twenty minutes.”

“Clearly you learned nothing dating Keeley,” Y/n scoffed, “Put thirty on the clock.”

“Fine,” Jamie relented, “I’ll be back in thirty minutes exactly. That’s it. Not waitin’.” He couldn’t even pretend to be that strict, a smile contradicting his words.

Y/n gave a two fingered salute, “I’ll be ready.”

She shut the door, hearing him shuffling down the hall. In her suitcase, she’d packed a dress, knowing the chances of Jamie and her going out after was a distinct possibility. She also thought she was crazy to assume that at all. Yet still, she’d gone to the trouble of picking one out, laboring over the choice far longer than it should have taken.

Within thirty minutes, Y/n managed to shower, do her hair and light makeup, slipping into the dress and her sneakers at the twenty-nine minute mark. She gave herself a once over in the mirror, giving herself a pat on the back for exceptional work in such a short time frame.

On cue, there were three knocks at the door.

Y/n grabbed her purse and unlocked the door, Jamie once again stood in waiting.

He wasn’t quite sure what he’d expected when he’d told Y/n they were going out for a night on the town, but whatever it was…wasn’t what he got. Y/n was stunning, gorgeous, in a strappy pink dress, her hair tied up. It was all in stark contrast to how she usually dressed around Nelson Road, all business attire or jeans on a casual day. This was…this was something.

“Wow,” Jamie managed, his eyes running up and down her form.

Y/n took an honest look at Jamie for the first time of the night. His usual floppy hairstyle and headband had been swapped for a blow dry and a neat side swoop. A deep blue dress shirt was unbuttoned a bit further than other men’s and a dark textured blazer layered it, finished with dress pants, actual shoes and a gold chain. He looked good.

“No trainers,” Y/n was lost for anything else to say, “It really is a special occasion.”

Jamie chuckled, still unable to tear his eyes off of her. It was going to get awkward if he didn’t stop soon.

He offered his arm, “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Y/n slipped her arm through Jamie’s and they strolled down the hall.

Once they’d slipped out the lobby, they hailed a cab and Jamie gave the driver an address. They arrived at a five star rooftop restaurant and bar and made their way to a table, the thumping music and chatter of the weekend crowd enveloping them. A fair amount of the other patrons were celebrating England’s victory heartily.

“Look at this,” Y/n smiled, a group of people excitedly describing the game as they passed their table, “You did this.”

“Wasn’t just me,” Jamie replied.

“Yeah, but you were part of it,” Y/n corrected, shaking her head, “Jeez, Jamie…you scored a fucking goal.”

“I did, yeah,” Jamie grinned and admitted, walking the line between humility and cockiness as only he could.

Y/n waited a moment, admiring the joy in Jamie’s eyes as his eyes followed the fans. It was childlike, pure and wild.

“You didn’t tell me you were gonna wear #24,” she eventually said.

Jamie nodded, “Just felt right. It’s mad they didn’t pick him.”

“It is,” Y/n agreed, looking out at the darkening London sky, wondering how Sam was actually holding up. “But that was brave, wearing it. Like you were giving whoever didn’t choose him the middle finger.”

He chortled, his eyes lingering on her longer and longer each time they found her. Jamie was losing the battle to look away.

Y/n was the first to drop her gaze. Like always, there were ghosts dining with them. She’d been itching with concern for Jamie all day, but hadn’t said anything.

“So…how was it being back? At Wembley?”

Jamie caught the meaning instantly, it wasn’t exactly far from his mind. As much fun as he’d had, being back in the locker room had inevitably triggered unpleasant memories.

“Bit weird,” Jamie admitted, “But…I don’t know. I think I was too distracted to think about it too much.”

“That’s good,” Y/n gently smiled, “Of course, now I’ve brought it up and…”

Jamie reached out and took her hand reassuringly, “And nothing.”

Y/n’s lips tugged upwards slightly, squeezing Jamie’s palm.

A horribly timed interruption caused them both to have to tear his gaze away, the waiter returning with their drinks. He took them both and handed Y/n hers.

“Alright,” she scooted forward in her seat, “What’re we drinking to?”

Jamie sighed, thinking a moment, “Well, to me, obviously,” he got a laugh out of Y/n, “To the team. To England. To Richmond,” he swallowed, “To you.”

Y/n raised a brow, “To me?”

“Yeah,” Jamie smiled coyly, “You comin’ here, cheering me on. Knowing you were there…”

The humor of the moment was gone entirely, replaced by sweet sentiment. Jamie and Y/n’s friendship had come to mean more to them than they could have guessed that first night in Sam’s restaurant. Or the time they’d run into each other at the Crown and Anchor, spending an hour pouring over apartments for Y/n. They had become each other’s north star. They were a part of one another, reflecting the best of each other back.

“To having a good night,” Jamie continued, unable to finish his last thought, “And not worrying about anything. Not thinking about anything. Just celebrating.”

Not all of the time they spent together was so serious, but one of the basis of Y/n and Jamie’s bond was their mutual pain. So many of their conversations somehow traced back to her parents, his dad, how they were the way they were because of their failures. Not to mention, Y/n had the news of KJPR’s shutdown weighing on her back. She’d have to break the news to Jamie come morning.

But tonight, tonight was a night for none of it. They would drink, they would laugh, and they would revel in Jamie’s accomplishment.

Y/n clinked her glass against Jamie’s. “To not thinking.”

And that’s exactly what they did. They didn’t think as they ordered a second round of drinks.

Or a third.

They didn’t think as they went to a club, pulling one another close to dance.

They didn’t think as they giggled their way back to their hotel.

And they certainly didn’t think as they stumbled into Y/n’s room, a collision of roaming hands and eager lips.

—————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

[varpusvaras]

If Fox could go back ten years in time and look at the barely twenty-year-old himself in the eyes and tell him that hey, you have a home office, his younger self would look back at him and tell him that he has lost his mind.

It's such a small thing to call someone crazy over, but for the Fox back then, even having an apartment he could be secure about was a big deal. Having an apartment big enough to have a home office? Having a job secure and safe enough that he could work from home? Absolute lunacy.

There Fox still is, now, sitting behind his desk in his home office and looking out of the window towards the trees blooming in the back garden.

That barely twenty-year-old Fox would've lost his mind if he'd see the place where he lives now. Hell, any version of Fox before the age of twenty-five would lose their minds. Even now, Fox remembers the cramped rooms with at least five other kids, sometimes his brothers, sometimes not. He remembers how all of this stuff could with inside one drawer and one box, because that had been the amount of stuff he had been allowed to have. Living in a place where he could have his own bedroom, a home office, and multiple other rooms to spare still?

All of that had been a simple, too good to ever be true-dream.

One that he is living now.

Who is he lying to? Fox at twenty-six had lost his mind after seeing the place for the first time. At that point he had been living on his own for a while, and not in a bad place either, but still. It had been...almost too much.

The way Bail and Breha had looked at him with soft eyes after Fox had asked if it would really be alright for him to have a home office had almost been too much.

They would've given him at least ten home offices if Fox would've just asked. Fox knows that.

Sometimes, Fox thinks that he is getting more than he deserves.

Not that he isn't working hard, or hadn't been working hard for his own success. He had, with too much cheap coffee and by scouring the grocery stores for expiring products and by studying through every waking hour and working through half of the hours he should've been sleeping. He had done it all, and it had gotten him here, in it's own way.

Now he can have the good coffee and sip it patiently, while he stops looking out of the window for a moment and attaches the floor plans and the concept pictures to the email and sends them away. He hopes that the customer is happy, now. The job had been interesting and quite fun with all the challenges, but he had other jobs too that he needed to work on, so he simply couldn't spend more hours on drawing entirely new pictures and doing all the math again because the customer had suddenly decided that they liked radius windows better to the picture windows instead-

Right on cue, his phone starts to ring.

Fox groans.

"Seriously?" He mutters, picking the phones up. "That was fast."

The record for the fastest call back he had received before this had been what, five minutes? It had barely been two minutes now, so there must be something egregious that he had managed to completely overlook, somehow.

He takes one last sip of his coffee, before he answers.

"Coruscant designs, Fox Organa speaking", he says.

"Hello, Mr. Organa." The voice that comes from the speaker is not the voice of his customer, and Fox blinks in surprise. Had he actually forgotten to see who had been calling? There's only a number on the screen when he quickly glances at it. "Is now a good moment to talk? I'm afraid that his would be rather time consuming."

"Depends on what this is regarding", Fox says. "I'm sorry, can I ask who this is?"

"Oh, right, my apologies", the voice says hurriedly. "This is agent Strass, I'm calling on behalf of Child Protective Services. Could I ask you if it is correct that your biological father was someone called Jango Fett?"

Oh, this is already not going how Fox would like any phone call to go. No matter how many years it has been by now, just hearing the words Child Protective Services makes his skin crawl, and the name Jango Fett makes his head hurt.

Those two combined have never promised anything good.

"I do want to make a correction, agent Strass, before we get any futher", he says, trying his best not to grit his teeth. "Jango Fett was my donor. I have never met him in person, nor has he ever had custody of me at any point during my life, nor does he even know that I exist."

"Oh", agent Strass says. They sound rather young, and Fox wonders if this is one of the first times they're making this type of call. "You're still listed as a genetic match to him through a DNA-test."

"I am, but I did not make that test to be in contact with him", Fox says. "I made it so I could be sure that my siblings were biologically related to me."

"Of course, of course", agent Strass says, and Fox can hear them turning some papers over on the other end of the call. "Now, I understand that this is a bit of an unique situation, since you do not have a prior relationship with your biological father, but we have received custody of a child that is, according to a DNA-test, also the child of Jango Fett."

Even though Fox already knows that it is the Child Protective Services calling, he is still surprised by the words.

"Have they been removed from the custody of Fett?" He asks.

"According to our records, no, a third party had a custody of him", agent Strass says. "They had done a DNA-test for the child themselves, and shared the results with us."

Fox can't believe this.

Someone is still using Fett as a donor? Or Fett is has suddenly decided to return from the dead and make more kids, but Fox doesn't think that is plausible. Fox is nearing thirty, and so are most of his siblings that he knows of, and the youngest he knows are still way past twenty. He really, really hopes that the child in question is in their late teens at the very least-

"How old is the child?" He asks.

"According to our information, three months", agent Strass says.

-and Fox hopes for the world to be healing are instantly burned down.

"Like I said, I understand that his is an unique situation", agent Strass continues talking, "but since we have the information on the child's biological family, it was decided that we would first reach out to you, to see if there would be anyone willing to foster the child, before we would turn to seek out long-term fostering options from unrelated people-"

Agent Strass's voice fades somewhere into the background, as Fox thinks. He thinks of the cramped rooms, he thinks of his drawer and box and the small amount of things he had in them, he thinks about his brothers, coming and going, being replaced with kids that were strangers, that would also leave if Fox ever managed to become friends with them. He thinks about the times it would be him leaving, thinks about how sometimes he had not even had a suitcase or a backbag, and had instead packed everything into plastic bags and dragged them around, he thinks of the drawer and the box and-

Fox looks out of the window, to the back garden with blooming trees, that he can see from his home office. His office, that he could have multiple of, and how they still wouldn't be out of space, and-

"Yes", Fox says.

"-in case that- excuse me?" Agent Strass stumbles a bit with their words.

"Yes, we will take them. Him. The child", Fox tries not to stumble over his own words as he hurries to speak. "We will take him. What do we need to do?"

Bail and Breha had been through adoption agencies already. They have been cleared to be fit to adopt and foster. Fox has not, but maybe he could ge through one if he applies right now, maybe two adults with qualifications would be enough in the meantime-

Agent Strass talks for a long, long time, and Fox now hangs onto every word with all the attention he has.

Agent Strass tells him to come to the office on Thursday. Fox cleares his whole day immediately.

The call ends almost an hour later, and by that time, his customer has tried to call him six times, and has left three emails. Fox sends them a message of three lines about emergency and sends it without checking if he even typed any of the words correct.

Then he sits down and he breathes.

He just sits there and breathes for a very long time.

"Alright", he murmurs to himself, finally. He needs to go ask Breha if she is free on Thursday, Bail at least only has work then until noon-

Oh. Right.

Fox stands up, and he walks to the other end of the floor, and knocks on the door of Breha's office.

"Come in, love." At any other time Fox would've been really endeared over the fact that Breha could recognise him from the way Fox knocks, but now he has too many other things in his mind.

Breha turns around on her chair as Fox slips in.

"Hello", she says and smiles, but her smile drops a bit when she sees whatever expression it is that Fox has on his face. "Is something wrong? Fox?"

Fox takes a deep breath.

"I've done something", he says. "Without asking you and Bail first."

Breha tilts her head.

"Have you sold the house and decided to move to Antarctica?" She asks. Fox shakes his head. "Then why do you look like you're about to uproot us all?"

"I agreed to have a baby", Fox says.

Breha blinks.

"What?" She asks.

"Not with anyone else", Fox rambles. "With you, I mean, to get a baby with you, I said that we could get a baby but I didn't ask-"

"Fox." Breha stands up, and Fox snaps his mouth shut. "Calm down, alright? Breathe in, and sit down. I feel like this is not a conversation to be had while standing up."

She takes his hands, and walks him over to the other chair next to hers that she keeps for visitors, and she lets Fox slump down on it for a good while before she gives him an expectant look.

Fox breathes in, breathes out, and starts explaining.

--- ---

They go to the office on Thursday.

Even arrives on Saturday.

His things are packed neatly into a little blue suitcase with cartoon ducks on it, and he is dressed nicely into clean overalls and a light coat, and has new, tiny shoes on his little feet.

Fox has only one, slightly tattered picture of himself as a baby, and he feels like he is staring at a live version of that picture when Even is taken out of the car and given to him.

Bail leans over, and he smiles at Even, who does a little smile back.

"He has the same forehead curl as you do", he comments, and brushes Fox's hair gently out of the way.

Fox can only answer with a nod.

He looks at the suitcase, and he thinks of the plastic bags and the drawer and the box.

Breha puts her arm on his back. Fox thinks about the cramped rooms and the drawer and the box as they walk upstairs and go to the room right next to their bedroom, with light green walls and vines growing on the wall outside the window, with a little cot and shelves and multiple drawers for only one kid.

Even's eyes dart around the room for a bit, before he looks back up at Fox. His tiny fingers grab at the front of Fox's shirt, and he smiles at Fox with a gummy smile.

Fox hoists him higher, presses his face against the little dark curls on Even's head, and he pushes the drawer and the box away.

(He only remembers that he had already agreed on things to do on Saturday, when Thorn calls him three hours later.

"Where are you?" He asks. Fox brings the phone further away, and takes a picture, which he sends to Thorn.

"Home", he answers.

"What are y- what the fuck is that?"

"It's a baby", Fox answers.

"I know it is a baby! Why do you have a baby?"

"Because I do now."

"That doesn't explain anything, where did you get it? You weren't pregnant!"

"How do you know I wasn't?" Fox asks.

Even is sleeping on him, and he makes a little snort and curls just a little closer to Fox. Fox smiles, and does not listen to anything Thorn is saying anymore.)

(Modern AU co-parented with @t3mpest98!)

[torisxmencollection]

It's so nice to see people universally celebrating Hugh as Wolverine again. He deserves it and it's about damn time everyone understand why he is such a legend. I feel like a lot of folks either forgot or straight up didn't know due to MCU saturation. The amount of people I've run into who are only just now getting into the X-men movies astounds me. I know I'm not the only Millenial who grew up salivating over the pre-Marvel Cinematic Universe era. It was all we had, and a lot of those movies were and still are fantastic.

Even if it doesn't undo all the passive aggression and callousness us Fox-era fans received over the last five years, it's damn gratifying to know the second-biggest Marvel box-office success ever did so by honoring my childhood and having a damn good time doing it.

And now we've got Feige out here saying that there are no plans to recast Hugh right away and let me tell you, right after bringing the Fox films back and getting to see the UN cut of Dark Phoenix, is all I've ever wanted. I remember not too long ago telling some jaded older fans/friends of mine that I wanted Hugh back as Wolverine as a multiverse cameo, just to stake his claim as the first MCU Wolverine. Nobody believed it would happen. Everyone assumed Marvel wanted that clean slate, that fresh start, and bringing back an older star from a franchise that was dead and buried didn't make sense.

Looks like the power of nostalgia extends further back than 2008, eh~?

I got what I wanted. My guy, my childhood, the legend himself is back and he's here to stay for a while yet. The universe I loved so much is safe thanks to Deadpool and Wolverine--granted, if the other cameos are anything to go by, I have a feeling anything else we see of the Fox Universe will look more like X-men 97...which isn't ideal but I'll take it. Guess a world too grounded in reality doesn't stand out enough in this comic-booky multiverse.

Ah well, what does that matter? The Wolverine is BACK!

[wambsgansshoelaces]

happy valentine’s day <3

valentine’s (succession main cast)

Kendall

ᝰ you wake up in the morning and the apartment is decked OUT

ᝰ rose petals, roses, streamers

ᝰ you didn’t know he knew what streamers were

ᝰ you wander out into the living room, and he’s sat on the couch, also still in his pajamas

ᝰ “kendall, what’s all this?”

ᝰ “it’s for you.”

ᝰ he gets up to meet you where you are and hoists you up and spins you both around

ᝰ he puts you down, your hands braced on his chest

ᝰ “because you deserve the world,” he murmurs

ᝰ he gives you a kiss

ᝰ “happy valentine’s day,” he tells you, stupid grin spread on his face

ᝰ you pepper his face in kisses, turning him pink

ᝰ “i have something for you,” you say

ᝰ “you do?”

ᝰ “of course i do.”

ᝰ you’ve been saving up for a bit

ᝰ and you know ken’s had his eye on this watch

ᝰ so you decided ‘fuck it’

ᝰ and you got it for him

ᝰ when he sees it, he just stares at you

ᝰ love clouding his eyes

ᝰ he can’t believe you’re his

ᝰ and he thinks he’s so lucky

ᝰ he sets the watch delicately down on the counter

ᝰ then kisses you so hard that you see stars

Roman

ᝰ wakes you up with a bunch of little kisses

ᝰ “hey, sleepyhead. i need you up.”

ᝰ you blink the grogginess away, him still dotting kisses over your cheeks and jaw

ᝰ “we have a reservation, babe, come on,” he whines

ᝰ “a reservation, ro?”

ᝰ “yes, now get up, pretty please.”

ᝰ he gets dressed up nice, crisp dress shirt and dress pants

ᝰ when you meet him at the door, he presents you with a bouquet of your favorite flower

ᝰ they’re already prepped for a vase

ᝰ he already has one with water and nutrients

ᝰ after you drop the flowers into the vase, he takes one, clips it, and tucks it behind your ear

ᝰ arm in arm, he takes you to a nearby breakfast place

ᝰ the fancy kind

ᝰ you have a table already set for the two of you in a private area

ᝰ you both giggle over breakfast

ᝰ you can both talk for hours on hours on hours

ᝰ but you can’t stay that long

��� because roman tells you he has a trip planned for the two of you

ᝰ to cabo

ᝰ and that you need to get to the airport

ᝰ on the plane, before he takes a nap, you make sure to give him a nice, long, kiss

Shiv

ᝰ flowers are on your desk when you walk in

ᝰ and a massive box of chocolates

ᝰand a long love letter

ᝰ she tells you how much she loves you

ᝰ that she’s very excited to see you after work

ᝰ that she’ll meet you in the lobby of your office building

ᝰ you’re smiling giddily to yourself

ᝰ and you pop chocolate after chocolate into your mouth happily

ᝰ after work, she doesn’t meet you in the lobby

ᝰ she shows up at your desk

ᝰ “babe, hi,” she says, giddy

ᝰ she comes over and kisses you hello

ᝰ “thank you for all this. i have something for you, you know,” you tell her

ᝰ she can’t pull away from your lips

ᝰ she kisses you again, and again, and again

ᝰ “shiv, shiv.”

ᝰ you pull her into your lap and you take something out of a desk drawer

ᝰ you thumb it open, and she half-gasps

ᝰ you’d managed to snag her a one-of-a-kind, simple necklace

ᝰ the only ornament being a diamond heart

ᝰ you help her put it on, the chain sitting nicely on her clavicle

ᝰ she’s grinning uncontrollably

ᝰ and kissing you even more so uncontrollably

ᝰ she never ever takes it off

Tom

ᝰ mr. dreamboat romantic

ᝰ at least he hopes so

ᝰ shitting his pants waiting for you to come home

ᝰ you open the door and call out a hello to him before you realize

ᝰ the lights are dimmed, candlelight reflecting off the walls and ceilings

ᝰ rose petals are scattered in a path leading you to the living room

ᝰ you walk slowly along the path

ᝰ to him

ᝰ he’s kind of just standing there

ᝰ and you can tell he’s bricking it

ᝰ he reaches for your hands and pulls you close

ᝰ “hi,” he says, voice immediately cracking

ᝰ “i missed you,” you manage

ᝰ “yeah, i missed you too,” he murmurs back, “so much.”

ᝰ for a moment, he doesn’t say anything

ᝰ but then he continues

ᝰ “i love you very much,” he begins, “and we’ve talked about how we both want to get married, and i can’t imagine a life without you anymore, and i’m just so… so in love with you, and i… oh, i’m rambling.”

ᝰ his hands trail down your sides, your hips, as he gets down on one knee

ᝰ he reaches into his blazer and pulls out a small velvet box

ᝰ you have talked about getting married

ᝰ and you know he’s the one for you

ᝰ and of course he’s proposing on valentine’s day

ᝰ and of course you say yes

ᝰ you meet him on the floor, your lips crashing onto his

ᝰ his grip tightens on the small of your back

ᝰ he’ll never let go of you

Greg

ᝰ he’s relatively new to all of this relationship stuff

ᝰ up until this year, he’d never had anyone to share today with

ᝰ so he’s nervous and confused

ᝰ but honestly he’s always nervous and confused

ᝰ he comes home from work, bouquet in hand

ᝰ they’re your favorite flower, and color

ᝰ and rather than chocolate, he has cake

ᝰ “aw, greg.”

ᝰ “uh, i couldn’t find those, like, heart-shaped chocolate boxes… but i found hear shaped cake.”

ᝰ you laugh

ᝰ but you don’t really mind

ᝰ “um, i made sure to get your favorite flavor,” he says quietly.

ᝰ “i know it’s not much, but it’s what i could find-”

ᝰ you cut him off with a kiss

ᝰ “greg. i’m just happy you did something.”

ᝰ he thinks is heart is trying to escape his chest

ᝰ “i actually have something for you, too,” you tell him

ᝰ “but i dunno,” you continue, “maybe you’ll think it’s weird.”

ᝰ you hand him a small cloth pouch

ᝰ he takes out the pura vida bracelet you’d had made for him

ᝰ with the both of your initials on beads laced onto it

ᝰ “oh, god. you got this for me?”

ᝰ he honestly sounds like he’s going to have a panic attack

ᝰ nobody’s ever done anything like this before

ᝰ he pulls you into a tight hug

ᝰ you spend of the night cuddling on the couch, eating cake

ᝰ his suit and new bracelet are what he leaves the house in the next morning

Stewy

ᝰ extravagant king

ᝰ somehow manages to get you a day off

ᝰ and on valentine’s day, you and him are hand in hand on a pier

ᝰ he’s dressed nicely, so are you

ᝰ before you know it, you’re on a mini yacht, just you and him

ᝰ and the essential workers but they aren’t the point

ᝰ he showers you in gifts

ᝰ chocolate, jewelry you’ve been wanting, even a little stuffed bear

ᝰ you have lunch together on the deck, talking and laughing

ᝰ you play footsie under the table

ᝰ he looks at you as if you’re the only thing he can see

ᝰ and really, you are

ᝰ you both sit in the open-air living area, curled together

ᝰ his fingers rake through your hair, your head on his shoulder

ᝰ his breathing is deep, steady

ᝰ “you know,” he says, “i wouldn’t really mind if this was all we did for the rest of our lives.”

ᝰ you kiss at his shoulder, staring out at the water

ᝰ “i wouldn’t mind that, either.”

ᝰ “so… you think i’m it for you?” he asks quietly

ᝰ sometimes he thinks you could do so much better

ᝰ but never vocalizes it

ᝰ because he has to be confident

ᝰ he has to come off strong

ᝰ “i think you’re the one,” you confirm

ᝰ “you’re everything to me, you know that?” you ask

ᝰ and that’s all he needs to hear

ᝰ he pulls you even closer to him, somehow

ᝰ he kisses all over your face

ᝰ “good. because you’re it for me.”

[where-dreamers-go]

“Teasingly Sweet” Dick Grayson x Reader

(A/N: Here’s part three after “Lucky Treat” of 90s Robin and Reader. What happens when Robin thinks he’s the one having bad luck? Also, do they know what’s even going on between them?

Warnings: Use of (Y/N), slight angst maybe, spicy times of a makeout session, and fluff.

Word Count: 2,321 words)

~~~

Gotham City had its fair share of people. Even masked heroes and creative villains who had eventful nights compared to their civilian days.

You, on the other hand, were having a pretty tame evening. The day had been productive, however nothing was too much to handle. A really decent day that lead to you grabbing a well deserved treat from a confectionary in the city.

Street lights and buildings kept the streets lit well enough.

You kept an awareness to your surroundings. Keeping your mind mostly on what moved around you and partially on ideas of what a certain masked hero could be up to.

Hopefully, Robin is alright, you thought as you held a light box of delicious treats close. He usually is. That we know of. You kept your jacket zipped up, an extra layer against the chilly night air.

After deciding to take a detour to avoid the growing crowd at a coffee shop, you annoyingly realized there was even more activity down the busy street. Lights flashed and news vans lined the road to boarder the sidewalks. Much too close for you to ignore.

Really? You thought, I don’t need this today. Pivoting on the spot, you turned with every intention of squeezing passed the line for coffee on your route home. Safety first.

You had very good intentions and determination to avoid any trouble. The good luck you were having again recently was not going to be thrown away on your watch. No way. There were treats to be had.

Just keep walking and you’ll be fine. No big deal. Average Gotham City night.

Average night, was it?

Was it not uncommon for a crook to flee from a police car?

Was it also the usual night for a crook to head straight toward you without your knowledge?

Definitely not.

Heavy footfalls came in rapid succession behind you.

Alarmed, you turned to the noise and saw a person, wrists cuffed, headed your way. Despite the initial scare, you were able to see a positive. Another person coming your way.

Robin sped forward, almost flying across the concrete to intercept the crook. Cape rippling behind him, your hero launched himself through the air.

Whoa.

You watched on in awe as Robin flipped over the guy and took him down in the process.

Oh, dang.

Hopping back to his feet, Robin spotted you as the crook peered around in a daze.

“Close call, sweets.” Robin said, looking you over. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” You clutched the dessert box in your grasp. “You?”

“I’d be better if this guy didn’t run off, especially too close to you.”

“I’m okay.”

“Good. How ab—hey,” Robin held the guy more firmly as he struggled against the hero. “I’ll be back.”

“Okay.” You stood quietly beside a building. The chill in the air made you shiver slightly.

All the movement remained about seven yards away, reporters trying to get closer to Robin and the dark looming figure of Batman stood by officers. Quite the sight really. There was no way you would want to be tangled up in that mess, even if it was under control.

Taking the time to check around, you deemed the area around the sidewalk boring and safe. Almost an oddity for Gotham City.

Can’t believe how fast Robin got that guy, you thought. He just…flipped and… Did he use his legs? I don’t know.

In less than about five minutes, Robin strutted towards you. Really heroic in that cape too. Yet he wasn’t smiling as you thought he might.

Is he okay? Did something else happen?

“Hey,” you said softly, “are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just…a lot of little things going wrong. Nothing I can’t handle, but it’s irritating.”

“Bad luck today?”

“Yeah,” he laughed half-heartedly. “You know a bit about that, huh?”

“A bit. But I know what can make it a little better.” You smiled as he perked up at your words. “I have some ice cream at my place and cookies, if that’ll make it any better.”

Robin smirked, “Are you inviting me to your place?”

“Yeah. If you want,” you shrugged, shy. A little nervous perhaps considering how much of a fan you were of Robin.

He’s walked me home before, you thought, and drove me home on his bike. Plus we’ve… Woo. Yeah. Okay, this could be interesting.

“Sounds better than how my night’s been going so far.” Robin replied.

“It can be my gift to you.” You quickly added, “You’ve helped me before and now. Why not give you something? You do so much already for everyone.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

You smiled. “I was headed home now. If you’re not through crime-fighting, I won’t take the ice cream out just yet.”

“You’d wait for me?”

“Yeah. It— Is that weird?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I’m flattered, but you shouldn’t have to wait that long. Give me a minute.”

You nodded and watched as he returned to the busy press-filled sidewalk.

I can’t believe this is happening again, you thought, feeling your heart rate pick up again. But…inside my apartment. I’m so glad it’s not a mess.

After wrapping up business with Batman, Robin jogged over to you with a charming smile.

On the way to your place, you two talked, caught up on anything new, and were very close. For chilly weather reasons, obviously. Robin was easy to talk to and wasn't completely full of himself. He knew what he was capable of and he didn't flaunt it.

Entering your apartment, you kicked off your shoes by the door.

“Make yourself at home.” You said as you set down the box of treats on the counter.

“Thank you. Nice place.”

“Thanks,” you smile warmly to him and walked over to the couch a few feet away to unzip your jacket.

“Is the box off-limits?” Robin asked, coming to stand by the end of the kitchen counter.

“Sorry, it is. This was for a well-productive day. From me, for me.”

He hummed in appreciation, “Is it cake?”

“…No.” You turned away slowly and took off your jacket.

“Sure.”

It was then that you realized what you were wearing.

Crap, you thought and tried thinking of a way to hide the prominent ‘R’ decorated on the upper left of your Robin fan club shirt. Be subtle about it.

Left arm raised, pretending to scratch your neck, you attempted masking some of it from view as you walk back into the kitchen.

“So, uh, you can pick whichever cookies you want out of the pantry there.” You offered and quietly sighed as he did so.

“Hmm.” He turned around with a sleeve of cookies. “Sweet as you.”

“Gotta have some on hand in case of a bad day,” you shrugged.

“I’d say my bad luck has disappeared at the sight of you.”

Smiling, you replied, “I could say the same. You did show up when I was having a terrible birthday.”

“And how’d that go?” Robin smirked.

Like he doesn’t know! You flirt.

“Well, after a really nice walk, I got a gift from you. So, I think it went really well.” Moving in the kitchen, you reached into the top cabinet, grabbed two bowls, and turned to set them onto the countertop. No clumsiness included.

“Did you like your gift?”

Oh, now he’s full on teasing.

“Very much.”

He smirked, happily confident. Blue eyes sparkling in the warm light.

Opening a drawer, you took out two spoons and quickly set them by the bowls. “I hope you don’t mind (flavor) ice cream.” You said and stepped to the refrigerator.

“I don’t mind any flavor you give me.”

After nearly choking on spit from Robin’s words, you pulled out a carton of ice cream with images of its contents all over. The thin ice coating its edges relieved some the heat radiating from your hands.

I’m going to be fanning myself with a magazine if he keeps this up, you thought.

Leaning on the counter, Robin watched you prepare to bowls of ice cream with a smile. Every move he caught with curious and attentive eyes.

“Is this good?” You asked, spoon in hand.

“Yeah. Thanks.” Robin walked over to stand beside you and took up the second spoon.

“Beats running around outside?”

“I’d take being here with you over chasing down some guy determined to ruin people’s day for the thrill of it. This is more fun.”

Apparently smiling while eating ice cream was a minor challenge. The two of you took that challenge with ease. Ice cream with good company definitely brightened both Robin’s and your day.

It was a wonder how you were comfortable enough with him to invite Robin inside. Then again, you were a fan and had gotten to know him quite a bit during your last two meetings. You were proud of yourself for asking.

Why shouldn’t you gift a little with whatever type of relationship you two had going?

What’s he thinking? You wondered as you saw him looking at you with your peripheral vision. I mean, he probably has to leave soon. I guess. You quietly set your spoon down in the empty bowl. I wish he could stay a little longer.

“You know,” Robin started as he put the spoon down, “I owe you a ‘thank you’ for your gift. Inviting me in and treating me to ice cream and cookies. You didn’t have to.”

“It’s about time I gift you something. Something other than one piece of candy.”

“And about thanking you…”

Robin’s gloved hand pulled you in by the waist. A move he definitely perfected as he instantly kissed you. Stealing your breath, Robin kept the pace slow as his lips pressed against yours. Dizzyingly passionate as he curled his other arm around your back.

Another kiss for the record.

Eyes shut for a moment, you broke for air. Your hands finding purchase on his biceps.

Even with his knee-shaking kisses, you needed to know something. To ask one thing.

“Is this...casual for you or…?” You left the question open ended.

How do I even ask this?

Robin took one of your hands and pressed it against the pulse point on his neck. A rapid pulse. “Lately, I've been wondering the same thing, but... I think I only want this from you.”

“Your heart racing?”

“It can be calm too. But not when I think of seeing you again. You’re all I can think about some times.”

“Just me?”

“You and me.”

You pulled him in for a hard kiss. Fingers in his hair, you deepened the kiss with all you had. In turn, Robin held you impossibly close to his body. Both of you expressing what you wanted and tasting of frozen dessert with no signs of stopping. 

Neither of you had to be anywhere else.

Leading you backwards through the apartment, Robin continued pressing his lips to yours. You stumbled to keep up, not knowing where you were headed when you mind was on how he teased your lips with his tongue.

“Oof.”

Your world turned sideways and Robin was all you could feel as you landed onto the couch. The cushions softening the fall onto your back. His cape covering you both as limbs entangled.

Time passed further into the night. Both you and Robin showed no hints of leaving the couch. If anything, it appeared as if you two would remain there much longer.

Panting breathes were exchanged between wet lips and heavy gazes. It was getting a little hot in the apartment.

Hands intertwined tightly over your head, neither of you dared break contact.

“We should probably stop,” you murmured.

“Probably,” Robin said into their neck. He rolled his pelvis onto yours. “Ahh. I should go.”

You bit your lip, keeping yourself quiet as your legs instinctively hugged him closer. Fingers still locked together with his gloved hands.

Robin. Oh, please. You thought as you felt your mind slowly floating away with pleasure, of being with him.

Placing another kiss on your neck, Robin kept a slow and sensual pace with you. His eyes fluttered shut as the two of you continued.

No thoughts of responsibilities or anyone else. No worries of where either of you should or should not be. Only thoughts of being closer together and all of the feelings that came with it all.

“Robin.” Back arching, his name escaped you like a plea.

Above you, he stopped completely and released your hands. “We can’t. As much as I really, really want to…” He looked you over in your half blissful state as he blinked away his own fog of pleasure. Shaking his head, he added, “Not while I’m like this…as Robin.”

You nodded, processing his words. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you kissed his forehead.

Smiling, Robin kissed you again. Much shorter that time, but with no less affection. He pulled you up with him into a sitting position, chuckling at your disheveled appearance.

“And maybe we can pick up on where we left off?” He lightly pulled at your shirt and added, “With your fan shirt.”

���Sure. Maybe without your mask and cape?”

His hands held you to him, “More cotton and less…”

“Whatever this is made of?” You knocked your knuckles onto the front of his suit. “As long as it protects you, it’s fine.”

“It does the job.”

“Good.” You pecked his lips.

Reluctantly, the visit had came to a close as you walked him to the door. The pair of you shared one more kiss, a promise.

“Good night,” you murmured.

“Good night. See yah soon, (Y/N).”

Robin left your apartment quietly and went off into the night air.

What have you two gotten into?

Was he, the Robin, really going to reveal his civilian identity to you?

Was that even allowed?

Was it safe?

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~

PART FOUR

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful.

coffee

~~~~~

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[woso-fan13]

Sicktember 2023: 15 (USWNT)

Sick in an Inconvenient Place

Your career was at an all time high. You would say it was peaking, but it seemed to get better everyday. You had millions of followers on social media, you were a brand ambassador for countless companies, you were constantly starting for the national team, you were on a freaking Wheaties box. To top all of that off, you weren’t old enough to legally drink or rent a car. 

Your days were stressful, to say the least, but that was to be expected. You would wake up before the sun rose to have time to run and get a few hours of unofficial practice before you had to go to the stadium for actual practice. You would then train with the team, recover, and then do assorted media/brand commitments in the late afternoon. After that, it was time for a quick dinner before a final run for the night. Then a shower, pajamas on, and into bed where you would update social media and respond to any messages. A few hours of sleep and you were up the next morning to do it again. 

It was exhausting, but it was necessary. If you wanted to be the best, it was necessary. At this place in your career, there’s no time to take a break.

So you continued. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and your sacrifices became worth it as you could see your career growing. You were unstoppable. 

—-

You were not unstoppable, you soon found out. You didn’t wake up at your usual time, you must have been exhausted the night before and forgot to set an alarm. Despite the extra hours of sleep, you felt a bone-deep tiredness unlike anything you had felt before. 

Every muscle in your body hurts. As you moved to grab your phone off your nightstand, you were barely able to lift it. Your arm was shaking with the effort it took. 

You tried to power through these changes, forcing yourself out of bed and into the bathroom. You ignored the fact that your pee could have easily passed as tea, but the feeling in your chest made you stop. It felt like your heart was fluttering. 

You knew not to take any problems with your heart lightly, so you called your doctor’s office to try and schedule an appointment for that day. The very lovely nurse on the phone had informed you that there were no appointments available until the week after next before she asked you what your current symptoms were. As you listed them off, you heard the line go quiet for a few moments. 

Then, she was telling you to get to the emergency room. 

—-

As soon as you mentioned the problem with your heart, you were immediately seen. Once they ruled out a heart attack, they calmed down, but continued to leave you hooked up to a monitor as they completed various tests. You allowed your eyes to close as you waited for results. 

You awoke to someone standing in front of your face with a packet of papers and a pen. You listened as she rushed through an explanation of your condition- rhabdomyolysis, something you would have to research later. You weren’t fully paying attention until you saw her pass over a stack of consent forms. 

She walked through them with you, explaining everything. With each new form, you could feel panic rising. The first form was for admission to the hospital- not ideal, but okay. The second form was for admission to the intensive care unit. At this, your eyes shot up. 

You listened to an explanation on how your electrolyte levels were so unstable that you were at extremely high risk for cardiac irregularities and cardiac arrest, so you needed to be closely monitored. You were so focused on this that you didn’t notice as she continued talking about liver and kidney damage. 

The next few hours passed in a blur as you were transported to a private room in the ICU. Seemingly, your career successes caused you to get labeled as a vip, meaning you bypassed some of the rules. Normally, you would protest any special treatment, but you felt like you deserved nicer blankets if you would be staying in the hospital. 

You called your parents, sure that they would be made aware of it soon enough. They were concerned, but you reassured them that you were okay. You made it a point not to tell any of your teammates, knowing that they would freak out. 

By the time the sun went down, you were so exhausted that you fell asleep. You slept through the night, unaware of the constant medication adjustments and lab tests. 

—-

You woke up the next morning to the entire united states’s women’s national team crowded into the room. Several people were crammed into couches, asleep. Others had pulled chairs up around your bed, some of whom remained awake. They noticed your eyes opening. 

It was silent as you woke up, a competition to see who would speak first. Eventually, you broke, speaking a quiet,

“Sorry.” 

You were quickly stopped from apologizing and reassured that nobody was mad at you. What followed was an hour-long lecture about setting limits and not pushing yourself too far. 

Thankfully, the lecture was stopped when the door opened. A familiar head peaks in, a look of relief crossing their face. She pushes fully into the room, walking over to wrap you in a hug. 

“Oh, Y/N/N, I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Me too, Mally. Are you doing alright?”

“Me?” she responds, sounding shocked, “you’re in an intensive care unit of a hospital. And you’re asking about me?”

You just shrug, a small smile on your face, “I really missed you.”

She leans down to pull you into another hug, squeezing tightly. You returned the hug similarly.

She pulls back, looking around the room. As you do the same, you realize that there are no empty chairs left. Painfully, you scoot to one half of the bed, motioning for her to join you. 

“I don’t think that’s allowed,” she says, shaking her head. 

“It’s fine, what are they going to do?” you respond, “they’re not going to kick me out to die on the street.”

Mal rolls her eyes before climbing in next to you. She wraps her arm around you, pulling you to rest against her. Your body relaxes, slumping against her. 

It’s silent in the room for a few minutes before Mal leans over to grab the bag she left on the side table. She rummages through it for just a second before pulling out a worn book. Looking at it, you recognize it as the one she had read last camp and had been begging you to read. 

She allows you to settle again, as you had been slightly displaced by her movement. Once both of you are comfortable, she opens to the first chapter. She begins reading- loud enough for the people in the room to hear, but quiet enough to be soothing. 

You allow yourself to be transported out of the hospital bed and into the fictional world, joining the characters as Mal describes them. 

[sseomtada]

being [ruben dias]

your move to Manchester signifies a triumph - the result of nearly a decade of relentless, hard work. However, your sweet victory is quickly turned sour when you reencounter the person you once deeply loved.

a/n: remade secretly only to be back on my bs...here's to praying for me to finish this fic? | 1/??? | 4191 words

This weather was nothing short of an utter atrocity.

It was the kind of bone-chilling freeze that overpowered even your skin's ability to raise its own flesh. Every ounce of energy repurposed instead to turn that evolutionary feature inwards. A futile effort, at least in your case. Even back home in Amadora, you suffered from genetic lack of internal warmth.

Miserable environment aside, the move would be worth it. Everything that you’ve done for the past few years - nearly a decade of sleep deprivation, being the brunt bearer of power trips and clinging to the slimmest sliver of rarely presented opportunities - had led to this.

Not the brutalist view spanning the length of your new floor to ceiling living room windows, but what it signified. Growth. The expansion of your firm here, in Manchester.

“Estou exausta…”

You pulled your eyes from the endless clouds to see your right hand, Aki, draped limply over the last of your boxes.

“Careful.” You bent to rip open the tape sealing the one near your feet.

“Oh, sorry.” She blew her overgrown bangs up to no avail. “Am I crushing your precious CB2 ceramics?”

“Actually, you’re slowly sinking onto my very sharp surgical steel kitchen knives.” The box cutter in your hand gestured vaguely to the label beneath her hips.

Aki’s yelp echoed off through the empty loft as she sprang from the impending mockup of a medieval torture method. Your laughter joined in when she grimaced and muttered something threatening to the thick cardboard that remained dent free.

“Thanks for helping me with all this.” You exhaled. “I owe you.”

“We’re even when you think about it.” She fetched a box opener of her own.

Your eyes widened. There was never a moment in your lifelong friendship when she didn’t take up on an IOU card. Not even when she purposefully served a suspension for knocking the lights out of a girl who blew gum into your hair in the fifth grade.

“I mean, you brought me along with you to open Bana. Full executive package, no less.” Aki beamed and then sneered upon unboxing her newfound arch nemeses.

That was true. Since she was the company’s Head of Finance, her immigration to Manchester was completed covered. Housing located right across the hallway, a brand new car of choice and an increase in salary to accommodate for the higher price of living wasn't the worst package to receive.

It didn’t feel like much of a repayment for her efforts when all things were considered. Bana wouldn’t be close to what it was today if it wasn’t for her. Any business was only as successful as how well they manage their finances, an aspect that she can solely and proudly take credit for.

Not to mention that you both would be extremely busy while trying to fully establish this new branch. If anything, she at least deserved the building’s penthouse suite for the headaches bound to come throughout this journey.

“So…is that a pass on the 1982 Bruno Giacosa?” You dangled the proverbial carrot.

Aki didn’t miss a beat, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Getting ready for your first day at the office never felt this good.

Perhaps it was due to the fact that your first ever job was, understandably, anxiety inducing. Being an intern for a well-known marketing firm wasn’t known to be a glamorous position - the multitude of reasons for that not stopping at being a coffee gopher.

After climbing the ladder to a mid-level position within your previous company, it became painfully obvious that the older leaders had no intention of making room for you soon. To eradicate any dreams of that from your mind, they even outright said it.

That led to your next go at a first day, the start of your own consultancy which would then go on to become Bana. Even though you had established your presence in the marketing world and had a few loyal clients, no amount of seminars you’d attended or books you’d read could’ve prepared you for the monster of a task you’d taken on.

This time felt different. There was always going to be an element of nervousness when stepping into a new venture. Even though this was a new branch on a tree you knew well, there was a lot to learn about operating in a new country and little time to do so.

What you had now, however, allowed you to convert that nervous energy into excitement. Experience, establishment and esteem. Those things among the equally as important trustworthy team behind you left you more confident than anything else that this could potentially only be the beginning.

“There better be a good reason why you’ve got me out early on a morning like this.” Aki’s poor facial muscles have yet to relax since the move it seemed. This time their scrunch was due to storm clouds looming in the distance.

“I think our very lovely AD has something exciting to share.” You nodded to give her the go ahead.

“Ladies, as you know I’ve been working on getting us an in with a certain business through my various sources and I’m happy to report that Bana was among the firms selected to pitch.” Cindy could barely contain her excitement.

Her optimism was infectious and part of the reason you recruited her. Another reason for bringing her into the fold to establish the new office was the insane network she had.

The blonde Londoner was in a similar predicament to you when you were starting out not long aog. Even hungrier, if you admitted it. Her former employer didn’t see the potential she clearly possessed, so you had no problem poaching her from them.

“And do we finally get to know the name of this state secret level business?” Aki leaned forward.

“Nike!” Cindy couldn't hold back any longer.

Even your face dropped at that. Not in the way that one’s expression would if they just found out that they’d been rejected from their dream school. It was something akin to finding out you’d won a fucking Oscar.

Among the celebratory cheers and shimmies, you thanked Cindy greatly for her hard work. And although it was a moment of uncontainable joy, the wheels had already began to turn in your mind.

There was absolutely no room for error if you wanted this pitch to be chosen. Being a newer firm undoubtably going up against major competition, Bana’s proposal had to be more than just that.

It had to be a statement. One that said you were not only a major player in this field, but that you also were to be seen as a direct rival.

You got to delegating tasks quickly. The sooner you got the bare bones of the pitch down, the quicker you could work on perfecting it. Aki was on budgeting as always - pricing presentation materials, researching and pricing the estimated budget for the product rollout for Nike.

Cindy was mostly on recon regarding the target audience. The product being launched was a new pair of their iconic AirMax, so you anticipated her using historical data as a guideline.

You’d have to do a fair bit of research yourself - getting into market research, the brand’s positioning and messaging - all while putting your firm’s spin on where you think Nike is hoping to go with this launch.

It was needless to say that the midnight oil would be burning. You set up a co-working space in the conference room to make communication seamless in brainstorming and building. This was the energy you missed so much, and a more sentimental reason behind your expansion.

Back home in Amadora, Bana was a well oiled machine. With a strong staff beside you, the hands on aspects of marketing were placed on the back burner by your own doing. In order for your employees to grow, you had to let them lead projects of their own and you trusted them to do so.

Now, you were back to inhaling concerning amounts of dry erase marker fumes and getting carpal tunnel from extensive mood boarding. That along with a side of meal deliveries and an equally as hard-working coffee machine made the long hours seemingly fly by.

“I’m so tapped, I need to power down for the day.” Aki stretched her back dramatically.

“Feel free to head out too, Cindy. Get some well deserved rest.” You took a moment of your own to release tension in your neck. “I’m good here for the next few hours.”

She was visibly grateful to be given the go ahead to clock out. From past experiences, you were able to sympathize all too well. You also made a mental note to have a conversation with her regarding working hours. There was never going to be an obligation of staying behind under your watch.

Cindy and Aki neatly organized materials for their return in the morning while you made your way to your office to continue outlining. With all of the research required collected, all you had to do at this point was place the information into their allocated areas.

There were three short raps at your door before you called her in.

“Still being here wasn’t exactly what I meant by rest, Cindy.” You chuckled, not looking away from your monitors.

“I’m on my way out now! Just wanted to bring you over the client mailing list I got from my source a minute ago.” She slid a USB drive onto your desk.

Your brows raised appreciatively, “Thank you, really. I mean it when I say that your presence here is essential and invaluable.”

Cindy waved a hand, her head shaking in time.

“I’m just happy to be helpful. See you tomorrow!”

You bid her goodbye and immediately got to taking a look at the information she left behind. It would be very useful in filling in some gaps you needed to flush out ideas that would attract the goal audience for the new product.

Influencers, Performing Artists, YouTubers…Athletes.

The last of those categories was obviously a given considering the brand. It also wasn’t the first time you’d come across that group in your line of work. This time though, seeing the label suddenly formed a knot in your stomach.

You were brought back to all of the avoidance in the aftermath - everyone in your life completely air-gapping the football world from your path. They did that to protect you, a gesture you still couldn’t bring yourself to thank them for verbally.

The mouse beneath your hot palm slowly shifted as you moved the cursor to click and expand the list. That knot grew to the size of a boulder. It squeezed your insides painfully within and forced a broken little noise past your lips.

One look at the name Ruben Dias was all it took to rattle you to your core.

o passado

At the age of seven, you moved to Portugal.

There wasn’t much you missed about your hometown, or even remembered for that matter. All you knew was that you were eerily calm for a child whose entire life up until that point had been uprooted. It was possible that your serene state of mind came from your mom.

She was all you had in the world. There was virtually no relationship had with her family - the only photograph you ever had with your grandparents was at your christening.

When it came to your dad, she put it as kindly as she could for a kid. You were smart enough to read the inference in her tone and the look on her face in the handful of moments he was brought up. He wasn’t in your life because he didn’t want to be.

Yet still, none of that made you sad or shaped you into a person defined by traumas. You intended to live the life that your mother encouraged you to. Be a kid, climb trees and get dirty, make friends along the way.

And that was just what you did. The first of them being the girl in your class that waved you over to the empty seat beside hers when you transferred. My name’s Akenna, but I hate it so I make everyone call me Aki instead.

She was the only person other than your mom who made you feel safe enough to confide in, just as easy to talk to as it was to listen to her wild recounts of her own life story.

Aki quickly became a regular in your home and you in hers. The giggles and secrets held in the various forts sprawling from your living room to bedroom would stay under lock and key until long after you both passed.

The next person you met would be the one who arguably shaped you the most. Loud shouts and tussling with a ball in the neighborhood park with his siblings was where you met Ruben. His tattered football rolled to your feet that touched the ground after you’d leapt from the swings.

With a weak kick, you returned it. Ruben shook his head in disapproval before he shot it right back at you. Try that again, with the left this time. You didn’t know if it was anger at being challenged by some random kid or genuine hidden talent, but when you hit the ball with your instep, it flew powerfully and directly into his own.

She’s on my team!

Inseparable wasn’t a strong enough word to describe you two. After finding out that you lived only one house down, he would come to your school to walk with you back home. On many of those occasions, Aki was there too. Your mom would be waiting with snacks and a warning, don’t play too long out in the sun, patifes.

Somewhere and somehow along the years, you and Ruben had become so close that it seemed you two were dating. Ivan jokingly asked one day as you were sharing a vanilla ice cream cone, ew, are you boyfriend and girlfriend? Ruben grabbed your hand, laced your fingers with his, and simply said, yes.

And that was that.

As for when you began to realize you loved him, that was harder to pinpoint. Maybe it came once you began to notice how helpful he was to you and your mom.

Ruben was always willing to lend a hand with repairs around your house, even if it meant searching up how-to videos when he thought you weren’t paying attention. Or how he’d go out of his way to walk your mom home when she worked night shifts.

Aki often griped and rolled her eyes at how you two were making her feel like a third wheel. Those complaints were always quickly followed with rebuttals that she’d spent a grand total of fifteen days as a single girl since she was thirteen.

Just make sure my maid of honor dress isn’t fugly at your wedding.

It was all but a given that marriage was pending in the future for you two. Ruben never had eyes for any other girl and you…God, you were terribly devoted to him. Even your posters of Justin Bieber found themselves catching dust in the closet, replaced by a collage of photos you and Ruben had taken together over time.

Five years saw graduations, proms, college acceptances and many, many firsts experienced together. His arms were the only man’s you’d ever laughed in, cried in, slept in. His eyes were the only one’s you saw when you closed your own. His lips were the only thing you wanted to taste on the good and bad days, and everything in between.

So, what happened on September 15th 2017?

To this day, you still had no answers to the why behind that question. Nor could you allow yourself to wrack your brain for them any longer should you want to hold onto your sanity.

As for what. Simply put, it was the worst day of your entire life to date.

On the eve of his debut for Benfica’s first team, an event he’d dreamt of and worked so hard for, one that become just as significant to you by extension, Ruben broke up with you. Over the phone, no less - which added humiliation onto a violent erupting volcano of destructive emotions.

Cold turkey, brutal, cruel. It’s over, don’t contact me, I don’t love you anymore.

There were no warning signs, no moments in retrospect left unturned during your spiral, that could’ve possibly made what you read true. You initially thought it was some sick joke. Maybe one of his teammates had taken his phone. Or perhaps there was some girl that wanted him and was jealous that he was yours, so she decided to play dirty.

It was none of that or the million other scenarios you came up with on you walk over to his home. You came to learn that it was, in fact, not a joke. Ruben meant it when he said he was done with you.

He made that painfully clear as he looked at you standing under the faint glow of the lantern on his front porch through the window. Those eyes you once dreamt of fondly seemingly someone else’s as he drew the curtain and shut off the light.

You don’t recall much of time that passed in the months following that night. Every now and then you’d get flashes - Aki crawling in and out of the bed you temporarily became one with, your mom scooping you up to help you bathe and wash your hair.

It was better that way, you think. A blessing in disguise to not be able to clearly recall the most devastating period of your existence.

When your memory resumed, it always picked up at the same place. You siting with Aki on the steps of an abandoned subway station in total silence.

In your mind, you were there with him years ago when the line was still functioning. The rush of the train brought wind along that rose your hair like lightning was about to strike. Ruben grinned toothily as he smoothed it back, tilting your face upwards.

He said I’d always be home when I was with him. Where am I supposed to go now?

The silence returned even louder following the question that neither of you had the answer to.

Instead, you sat there in it with your best friend and shed the last tears you ever would over Ruben Dias.

o presente

Seven years was a long time.

It came with two college degrees, laser focus and an ability to compartmentalize so strongly that it would terrify artificial intelligence.

Whatever threatened to upend you at the sight of his name was snatched up and contained to be dealt with sometime in the future. You didn’t put literal blood, sweat and tears into your career to let one old wound derail it at such a pivotal moment.

With the same vigor you scrapped up to move on with your life, you poured every ounce of energy you had into absolutely nailing your pitch. Five all nighters, thirty six edits and ten complete run throughs later resulted in Bana being chosen as the firm to brand the newest AirMax.

“I always knew you were a genius, but this project was just,” Aki kissed the air as she took the next left to drive back to your shared building.

“Team effort, Aks.” You mumbled.

The thing about throwing yourself entirely into one project was that when the hard work was done, all the was left was the shit you were avoiding. You could feel it there, gnawing at the back of your head like a mice on a fresh piece of cheese.

“What if we watched an old coming of age movie like we used to on nights like this? Pop out some wine, get in our pj’s…real wild stuff.” She nudged your elbow with hers.

You casted a fond glance at her. Aki would never come outright and say it, but it was her way of checking in with you. The client mailing list was no secret to her since she needed it for the budgeting, so there was no way she missed him being on there.

The mice grew hungrier. Throughout all of your breakdowns and pain, she held all of hers in unselfishly and arguably stupidly. You weren’t the only one who lost someone important to you on that night.

“We do that after product launches. The deal has only just been sealed.” A smile was managed to form on your end.

“Ah…best not jinx it then, huh?” Aki blew a raspberry.

In order to keep her worries at bay this time, something you silently promised to do ever since your senses had returned, you squeezed her arm and doubled down.

“Besides, I haven’t had a proper night’s sleep in nearly three weeks. I think I’ll just go for a short run, take a shower and hibernate.”

She nodded, liking the sound of that plan. You would’ve felt proud of your disarming skills had you not known the real reason for her shoulders relaxing. She was looking forward to having the next two days off more than anyone else.

“Don’t forget to text me when you get back.” Aki stuck out her pinky.

“Always.” You locked yours in tight.

The repetitive beat of your feet meeting the ground had the ability to still your mind nearly as much as pouring yourself into your work did. Left, right, left, right, left. When you added in the accompanying swing of your arms, the constant reminder to keep your breath in control and music that made you feel like you could punch a hole through a wall - you were nothing short of a machine.

It was one of the healthier coping mechanism you’d clung to back home. Every day, you’d take to the streets of the new neighborhood you moved to and then to the track at you university.

You’d gotten so good at it that you were scouted to run for the school’s team. Going pro was never a part of your plan, though. You only accepted the offer because it came with a free ride.

A drop of water hit your face, but it was cold.

Your treads slowed a bit as your eyes turned skyward. The clouds illuminated against a murky purplish background with the warning of distant lightning approaching. You refocused and pumped your legs faster. Fucking Manchester.

In between your songs transitioning, you heard a faint rumble. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, the sound distorted by the headphones muffling your ears playing tricks that twisted the noise to sound partially human.

Whether it was or not, you weren’t trying to stick around to find out. It was late at night and the weather was going to get hellish soon.

From the corner of your eye, you spotted a shadow ripping behind the streetlights - closing in on yours with each meter. Lactic acid built painfully in your muscles as you pushed even harder, breath control thrown to the wind.

It was gaining on you while rain began to fully fall.

Within a matter of seconds, which is all you had, you came to a decision. You were too exhausted from sleep deprivation and being nearly an hour into your run to beat whoever was chasing after you. The only option you had now was to steel your nerves and use the keys in your pocket as a last line of defense.

Your right hand blindly reached down and was met with lint. Terror hadn’t been felt until that very moment. A thousand and one scenarios raced through your mind with you reaching for the ones that would allow you to leave this situation at least narrowly unscathed.

The one you got a firm grip on using the element of surprise to hopefully distract them from whatever intentions they had for an instant. You took one last deep breath before spinning around swiftly and throwing out a fist.

A man in a baseball cap dodged the punch to his credit, albeit not very ideal for you. His balance, however, was in your favor. He slipped on the slick sidewalk and landed flat on his back with a pained groan.

You were the last thing you should’ve been given that you’d been granted an escape - frozen. On your behalf, you would’ve been halfway down the street and barreling towards your building had it not been for the wide eyes staring up at you.

Those eyes…Ruben’s.

[atlantic-sugar]

You’re My Favourite Gift

Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader

Summary: Presents and confessions

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader

Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters

Warnings: teeth-rotting fluff

Word count: 1.5k

Taglist: @benjification

Notes:

(c/g) = Christmas Gift

OOC GHOST!!

NOT PROOFREAD!!

Masterlist

“No way! You didn’t!” You gasped as you held up the new (c/g) you’ve been wanting since it came out in shops.

“Oh my gosh! Thank you so much!” You wrapped your arms around Price’s torso giving him a big hug. He chuckled as he patted your back.

“No problem (Name). You deserve it after all the hard work. So do the rest of you. I know it’s upsetting that we couldn’t get home for Christmas this year, but I’m happy I’m spending it with all of you.” Price smiled.

“We’re all grateful for you too Cap.” Kyle started only for Johnny to interrupt. “So we’ve got ya a lil somethin’!” He hands Price a nicely wrapped gift.

Price takes the present gently. “You didn’t have to get me anything lads. I was already-” “See, I told you he would pull the ‘you didn’t have to get me anything’ card!”

The guys around you laughed. All except Simon. You looked over at the man who was lounging farthest away from the rest.

Deciding to make your way towards him, you started to get up only to hear a small gasp from Price. “Lads. Now this…this is something.”

Price looked down at the expensive packet of cigars and a framed picture of 141 after their first successful mission together. Gaz, Soap, Ghost, Quipt and Price. All together. Soap had so much dirt on his face Price pointed it out to Kyle beside him.

“Soap you look like an idiot.” Kyle laughed aloud. “What do you mean?! I look bloody gorgeous in any picture.” Soap exclaimed. Even though he knew he looked like an absolute mess in the photograph, he knew the meaning behind it was important.

“Yeah you fabulous in this picture too?” You asked, holding up your lock screen with a selfie you snuck with Soap one day getting the rest of the task force in the picture. Only you and Soap posed as the rest only looked up without realising they were in a picture.

“Gah! That looks- heheh I look great!” He awkwardly laughed. “Not going to lie, you look great with that filter.” Gaz pointed out. Everyone laughed again as the fire crackled from the fireplace.

“I have one more gift actually!” You got up from the carpet and walked over to the Christmas tree, picking up a small squared box.

“Simon this is for you- I know you said you didn’t want anything but…” Turning around you were about to give it to a special someone, only for them to be gone.

Letting out a small ‘oh’, you’re smile slightly faltered. “I’m going to go find him. He’ll miss the dinner if he’s gone.” You told the group who nodded at you. Most of them getting up to set up the last bit of the food.

Determined to get your gift to Simon you began your search. Looking into his office, nothing. Courtyard, nothing. Finally reaching his room, you saw a small light from under the door.

Taking in a deep breath you knocked on the door. Nerves banging up inside of you. You were finally going to tell him. Tell him how you feel.

“Who is it.” Simon’s gruff voice could be heard from his room. “Hey, it’s me. Can I come in?” You asked. Silence followed. You waited for some time to see if he’d answer.

Nothing.

You sighed. It’s not like Christmas was over because of this, but it was disappointing. Even after building up all that courage.

“Dinner is ready. So if you want to have it with the rest of us, it’s best you come down soon.” You mumbled and walked away from the door.

Before entering the room where the rest of the group were, you shook off all the feels and marched inside. You put away Simon’s gift under the tree again to keep it safe.

“Will L.t. be joining us?” Soap asked. You shrugged your shoulders. “I’m not sure. I hope he does.” Just as you two finished, the doors reopened and Simon walked in.

Helping Price bring over the rest of the food with Gaz, you all sat down. (Price sat at the top of the table of course.) You sat beside Johnny. While Kyle and Simon sat across from you two.

“Alright then. Let’s eat!” Price announced and Johnny immediately began to eat up everything.

~~~~~

Light Christmas music could be heard from the living room. Everyone had finished their food and have headed off doing their own thing.

Simon walked towards the fireplace and sat down. Looking and the flashing lights from the Christmas tree he looked over.

Noticing a small present underneath the tree, he stared at it. Curiosity eventually got the best of him. Getting up from the sofa he stalked towards the tree.

Kneeling down he looked at the small tag on the present. Doesn’t say who it’s from but there is a name.

To: Simon

He stared the small box. He thought about leaving it there. Maybe it was for someone else. Dumbass, he’s the only Simon around.

Slowly he began to peel back the neatly wrapped paper. Checking his surroundings to see if anyone had seen him.

He looked at the small black box. Slowly opening it, his eyes widened. It was a watch. A black watch with a silver designs engraved in it.

Attached to the leather band was a small ghost charm. He stared at the small gift in his large hand. A note was attached to the top of the inside of the box.

“Dear Simon. I know you didn’t want anything for Christmas but I had to get you something. I hope you like it!

Ps: I fancy you”

Simon stared at the bottom of the note. “I fancy you.” He felt a small smile tug onto his face. ‘Fancy?’ What are you guys in, secondary school?

He rose up to his full height with the box in hand. He felt his face was warmer than it first was under his mask.

He had to find you. Thank you. Tell you.

He left the room and began to yours. When you’re room came to sight he didn’t realise he picked up his pace and without thinking he knocked on your door.

No answer.

He knocked again and got nothing. Figuring that you weren’t in your room he began to look around the base.

After 20 minutes of looking for you, he found you outside in a warm coat and a scarf, looking all cozied up and warm even in the cold winter weather.

Hearing the door open behind you, you turned around. Surprised to see a 6,4 British man walking towards you with a small box in his hand.

Panic arose within you, realising he had seen the message. “Simon, I can explain the note…!” Before you could say anymore his arms were wrapped tightly around your smaller frame.

The two of you stood there in silence. You embraced him back to try and keep him warm, as he was only his a long sleeve shirt, jeans and his shoes.

“You have no idea, what’s going on right now do you?” He mumbled against your shoulder. You shook your head. “No, but I like it” you smiled.

Simon took in a deep breath and sighed, his warm breath slightly grazing over your cheek as he lifted his face from you shoulder.

Only now noticing his mask had been brought up over his mouth and just resting on his nose. “Me too.” He whispered a reply.

“I appreciate what you do, and have done for me.” He mumbled. A small heat starting to rise in his cheeks. Looking up at the man you slowly took his hands.

“We should probably head inside. It’s starting to get really cold. I don’t want you catching a cold.” You smiled up at him. Simon nodded.

Following you closely behind Simon stopped you when the two of you entered back into the warm building.

He took you by your arm and turn you around. “Simon what’s going on..?” You tried to speak, only to feel rough, scarred lips on yours.

Taking some time to understand what’s going on, you’re kind went fuzzy. Simon Riley.

Kissing you?

Without even noticing you kissed him back. His hands rested on your waist while he leaned down to reach you, as yours rested did around his neck.

He slowly pulled back from the kiss. Your lips unconsciously chased after his as he stood back to his usual height. You opened your eyes, to a surprise.

“Why…? Out of the blue…?” You whispered your questions as you took in all the facial features of the man in front of you.

Dirty blonde hair cut short but still long, the cold icy blue eyes, the small scars that were littered around his face. His chiselled jaw, and sharp nose.

Simon took your face in his large hand. You could sense his nervousness from feeling so exposed to another person. He sucked in a deep breath.

“There was a mistletoe. That’s what we’re supposed to do…right?” Your face burned as Simon’s eyes looked down at you fondly.

His face moved towards your shoulder and rested up above your collarbone. Feeling his warm breath beside your jaw, you shivered.

“I fancy you too and not only is this watch the most thoughtful gift…” His face lifted from your shoulder and looked you right in the eyes.

“You’re my favourite one.”

25-12/22

A/n: I hope you enjoyed that! Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you have a lovely day and a happy new year! <3

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Holiday fic summaries! These will be OC not Reader

Secret Santa:

You attend a big Christmas party at your friend’s. You were instructed to wear something Christmas inspired and to bring a secret Santa gift for a name you’ve chosen at random before attending. You bring a cocktail kit as a gift to another friend. When gift exchange happens, you get your gift and there is a Christmas card with instructions to open in private. When you open your gift later that evening in a room at your friends, it’s the nastiest, freakiest gift ever!!!! You wonder who could have given you this? There were plenty of men and women at that party. You were instructed to wear your gift all evening but still…you don’t know who it is. Eventually, you find out after an entire evening of sexual torture.

Sitting on Santa’s lap for photos:

You’ve always wanted to take pictures with Santa as a little girl but your mom didn’t feel comfortable letting you sit on a grown man’s lap which is understandable. Now that you’re older, you go to a Christmas event at the Fire House with your sister and nieces and there is a toy drive, Brunch, hot cocoa, and a Santa Clause! He’s a black Santa dressed exactly like the fat jolly man. After some thinking you decide to get a picture with some convincing from your sister. You sit on Santa’s lap and he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer, a deep, laugh causing chills to run down your spine. He asks you what you want for Christmas and you say jokingly: “A MAN! I’m kidding, Santa.” (You weren’t kidding) “honestly, I have everything I could ever want. I just want to spend time with my family.” Little did you know, Santa was going to make that gift come true.

Santa’s naughty list:

Erik is a brat tamer. And he has his eyes on a woman that’s been crowned the black Regina George. She’s cruel, spoiled, rich, and BRATTY. Her daddy is a successful lawyer and her mom is a brain surgeon. She has everything she wants and will always get what she wants. She doesn’t even have to lift a finger. Men are at her beck and call always. She’s every man’s dream. Erik remembers how she treated him all those years ago. He wasn’t enough for her apparently. Didn’t make enough money he assumed. Wasn’t on her level. Erik had it all now. Without her knowledge of who he is, she accepted a date with him on Christmas Eve after talking online for months. She couldn’t wait to see if he was about what he talked. Erik proved to her that he was exactly what she was looking for, but what she didn’t know was that she’d been on his naughty list for a long time now. He had a treat for her stuck up ass. One she’ll never forget for the rest of her life. The ghost of Christmas past, present, and future.

New Year’s wish:

You make a wish as the clock strikes twelve. “I wish I could wake up next to the perfect man that checks off all my boxes. Even if it’s the first man I ever laid my eyes on tonight. I deserve it after the time I’ve wasted on my ex.” You were drunk and saying anything but the shooting star that zipped across the night sky took it seriously. That morning, you wake up in the most luxurious home, even though you recall falling asleep in your own bed last night after the NYE party. Next to you, there is a man sound asleep. You sit up, confused, looking down at your naked body dripped in diamonds. What the hell? You look over at the man next to you and he’s…damn…he’s gorgeous…wait…is this the guy from the party last night?!!!! You’re in for a ride with his man! A dream come true! Only problem is, you have until midnight to live this fantasy before reality sets in.

NYE office party:

It’s the annual NYE party! All departments at this big corporation: Marketing, Finance, IT, Operations, Development, and the big guys that reside on the top floor all come together to celebrate. It’s a mix crowd, and you show up because there’s always good food and lots of alcohol. You work as an Accountant, been there for five years, and you’re single. You show up in your best attire, and all eyes are obviously on you. You find your work friends and gossip. In walks the boss. You’ve never seen this man but you can’t stand him. He’s controlling, demanding, opinionated, and rude as hell. He’s the new CEO of this successful tech company. One of the highest paid in the world. The old CEO never showed up to these events—hold the hell up!!!! Is that the man you fucked a month ago that you’ve been running away from because of that python between his legs?! He’s your boss?!

New Year’s kiss with a stranger:

It’s NYE 2022. You’re spending your NYE in the hospital. You have a patient that you’ve grown close with. His name is Erik and he had a near death experience. He’s a stranger to you but not really. You’ve grown to like him for the past month you’ve been taking care of him. He is recovering well. It was a motorcycle accident. He’s bandaged up and in a contraption to keep him stable with the amount of injuries he has. You’re only doing your travel nursing there and it’s your last day. Erik didn’t talk much. He mostly used his button or communicated with a blink or a slow nod of his head. He surprised you by calling your name that last night. You come to him, happy that he’s speaking more clearly. Erik: “come closer…” you do so, and he whispers, “I’m really going to miss you. Could I please have a New Year’s kiss?” His request threw you off. You laugh, patting his hand gently, “I’m gonna miss you too. I’m sad to leave. I wish I could stay.” Throughout the rest of your shift you can’t help but to think about his request. You couldn’t explain why you felt butterflies in your stomach. You didn’t even know this man outside of being his nurse! Right before you leave, you accept a gift from your nurse supervisor and thank everyone for having you. You’re set to go back home to Chicago for at least two months before another contract in New York. Before you leave, you peek inside of Erik’s room and notice he’s sleeping. You check your surroundings and tiptoe over to his bedside. You look at his lips and then on impulse, you lean in and kiss him. It’s soft and gentle. You could feel tears brimming your eyes. You leave with the realization that you’ll never see him again.

[nzia-writes]

The Marvels 2023 dir. Nia DaCosta

My Honest Thoughts:

I’m actually kinda sad that this movie is performing so poorly at Box Office, and I’m all the more sad that it lacks the excellence that I’ve imagined for the last two years in the narrative sense.

The cast is strong, the visuals are strong, the action is strong, the direction is strong, but it all came crashing down because Marvel has been doing a horrible job at choosing its writers for movies. It is also fair to mention that the studios have refused to pay the actors fairly, thus causing another fatal blow at the box office!

—monthly delays

—no promotion from actors and poor promotion from marvel

—toxic incels and misogyny

—some of the audience’s disinterest in the characters

—The current MCU’s bad handling at storytelling

There was just so many forces against this movie and it was evident that this would be the outcome. Had the storytelling took a new approach at these characters and gave a more interesting villain — or even a villain with a more developed story— and gave us at least ten or fifteen more minutes with these characters for a more fleshed out story, the outcome could have differed.

Not even lying, this movie has some of the BEST action scenes in the mcu, some FRESH and creative stylistic choices in directing, some killer ass comedy, and some jaw-dropping visuals! It has given Carol an even better character arc and has brought some clarity and direction to the multiverse saga that has otherwise been handled poorly in phase 4 and 5. Nia DaCosta is a certified nerd and she did exceptionally well with building up the cosmic corner of the mcu!

Let me just say that Academy Award Winner, Brie Larson, shined so bright in her sequel! She channeled so many new emotions and character dynamics that make up Carol Danvers! She was able to find a nice balance between Carol’s stoicism and emotional vulnerability which so many people have criticized before! She also went about Carol’s regret beautifully with raw and heartfelt interactions that push said character to correct her mistakes as a hero and as a human.

And let us not forget about the outstanding performances from Teyonah Parris and Iman Vellani as Monica Rambeau and Kamala Khan. The charisma of Monica Rambeau and the creative handling of her powerset is one that I will hold close to my heart. And the STAR that is Kamala khan and her family is one element that stole my heart early on in the film!

This movie deserves its flowers and it’s unfortunate that the writing had to weigh it down so much. I’m fucking OVERJOYED and grateful that I was able to experience this movie in the theaters—and to have theorized for a good six months on end!

It is going down as one of my top 5 mcu movies, not because it was perfect, but because of my attachment to the cast and the characters. They knocked my positive reception up 30 notches because of the hard work and the un-fucking-deniable chemistry! I know everyone may not agree with my sentiments, but I don’t care because this is deeper than box office success and audience reactions. Yes, It is unfortunate that my happiness wasn’t shared much, but what can I do now other than enjoying it as the phenomenon it is? 🤷🏾‍♀️

[oddbunny]

Found this Gael interview from 2006 in the comments section on another interview. Accidental rabbit hole.

2006 New York Post interview:

It's not for nothing that Gael Garcia Bernal was twice cast as revolutionary Che Guavara. The Mexican actor is as charismatic as he is outspoken - especially when it comes to issues concerning his native country.

He's also responsible for some serious box-office magic back home: 2001's "Y Tu Mama Tambien" was the biggest opening weekend ever for a Mexican film, and 2002's "The Crime of Father Amaro" was the most successful Mexican film in history (and possibly the most controversial - he played a secretly non-celibate Catholic priest).

Bernal is currently starring in director Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu's "Babel," alongside Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett, and was recently seen riding a stop-motion stuffed horse in Michel Gondry's fantastical film "The Science of Sleep."

Q: Mexican directors are hot right now. Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu made waves with "Amores Perros" and "21 Grams." Alfonso Cuaron did it with "Y Tu Mama Tambien." Is Mexico becoming a center for film?

A: There's definitely a worldwide sense that Mexican cinema is pretty big, or a bit "in fashion," right now. Latin cinema as a whole, really. There's this rebirth feeling. But this is nothing, for what the country deserves - Mexico is a country of 100 million people. The year "Amores Perros" was made, there were only six films made there! And this year, it's 65. So there's been a big increase.

But unfortunately, in Mexico, it's harder to make a movie, to even contemplate the idea of directing a film - not many people have the opportunity. I'm sure people from the mountains in Oaxaca find it so far away [from their reality] to do a film. And at the same time, it's exactly those kinds of voices that you want to hear.

If I had to stick with one reason why films matter, it's that: getting to know the "other," and finding that the other is not so different than you are. That's what I think of when I feel like I don't want to make movies anymore.

Q: You have moments when you want to get out of movies?

A: Yeah, I mean, sometimes you feel unprepared, you feel untalented, like you're doing something you don't like, or that you're just doing it terribly. Or you don't like the industrial side. But at the end of the day, there is always that thing. I want to do films because I am an audience first, and films have made me know more about the other - and that the other doesn't exist, really.

Q: Which is one of the points of "Babel." But some people, like the busload of U.S. and British tourists, come across worse than others, don't they?

A: Well, there's two points of view about this movie - you can see that, OK, the people from the U.S. are portrayed as scared people, really worried about health and dirt. But you can also see the other side: Why are the ones that die always from poor countries? We are always the ones that die.

Q: Your character in "Babel" makes pretty bad decisions after he's stopped by an aggressive cop at the U.S.-Mexican border. Have you, or someone you know, ever experienced anything like that?

A: My character makes a bad mistake in a drunken state. But yeah, when you're Mexican, it's a bit of a situation. You have to apply three months before, and it costs $80 for the visa. Sometimes you have to show bank statements to show you're earning money, you're not coming to the U.S. to work. It's kind of stupid - as if money was a sign of honesty, or goodwill. It's a rite of humiliation. They act as if you are coming here to steal.

Q: Is it easier for you to avoid this than most, though?

A: No, no - the last time I crossed the border, walking, I was asked, "Where do you come from?" And I'm like, "Well, I'm from Mexico." And they say, "No, where do you come from?" And I say, "I come from Mexico." I mean, what am I supposed to explain? And they say, "What were you doing in Mexico?" And I say, "Well, I live there." And they say, "No, but what were you doing right before you came here?"

I'm not gonna answer that. Because - you know, what do you care? We're radicalizing the process of integration, and that's terrible. Because it's going backward in time. But it's not just the U.S.'s fault - Mexico is shamefully not providing a place for people to work and live properly. It's everyone's fault.

Q: Did that experience make you want to avoid the U.S.?

A: No. I mean, we share the same territory! But Bush just signed off on the law to start building a wall. It's the second biggest wall that's ever going to be built, it's going to rival the Great Wall of China. And it costs so much money, and so much human resources. Maybe I'm stating the obvious here, but it's kind of ridiculous to build a wall. Walls are always destroyed eventually.

Q: Aside from acting, your production company organizes a worldwide traveling documentary film festival, Ambulante. Are you planning the 2007 festival yet?

A: Yeah, it's happening in 18 cities, on commercial screens, with a big chain - for half-price! Very cheap, it's like $2. And we're going to get together some 15-20 films, divided into three sections. One section we're calling "Dictator's Cut," which is about censorship. For one of those, we're showing both the "official" version and the real one; the rest are already restored, but some of them were completely not shown. It's very exciting.

Q: Your role in Michel Gondry's "The Science of Sleep" was one of your least political roles - was it fun to cut loose and just be weird?

A: It was great, it was a joy to act in. I had a lot of fun doing it. I think not many people have seen it here. Maybe because it was done in France? I mean, it's got good numbers, but still, I wish it would be much more.

There is still this myth - like, for example, I saw the trailer for [Mexican director Guillermo Del Toro's upcoming film] "Pan's Labyrinth," and they don't show you it's in Spanish. You never see a character speaking. I just think that's cheating, you know?

If they actually tell me that there's this weird Iranian love story - I want to see it, because it's in Iran. If it's about a love story in Florida, well, I've seen that before. I'm interested in the further-away, the more surprising.

Q: Do you ever worry that people will take you less seriously because of your looks?

A: [Laughs] No - there are prettier boys than me.

[dragonsareawesome123]

The Color Purple being the one musical movie within the past few years to actually be successful at the box office is SO well deserved. It’s such an incredible movie that I really really really want to watch again!