#look there’s a simple kind of joy in recognizing an actor from something else

[whotfelsewantedtobelynnyx]

One of my favorite weird things to do after finishing a show is to go watch Law & Order (specifically L&O SVU, I’m a Benson girl) and keep an eye out to see if any of the cast make a guest appearance or cameo, because a good 50% of the time AT LEAST ONE DOES. And then I get to sit and watch and secretly giggle to myself like:

[catharsis-in-a-bottle]

AHSDHFHHJKKHD

THE QUEEN’S GAMBIT. WAS SO FUCKING GOOD. 

[spoilers below if you haven’t seen it and you want to]

Here are some of my (not in any particular order) bullet points. This is gonna be long as hell because, you know, brain dumps amiright

First off, Anya Taylor-Joy’s acting. Is just incredible. In particular moments, you can tell what she’s thinking with a simple hand gesture or with the tiniest raise of an eyebrow. She develops Beth’s signature facial expressions and movements throughout the show, and you just feel like you know her. And during her chess matches, sometimes it feels like she’s staring into your soul. Especially when she gives that badass chin-on-the-hands look and she knows she’s going to win. Powerful energy.

Secondly, I fucking knew I recognized Harry Beltik from somewhere else but my mom didn’t BELIEVE me and then I looked up the actor and he’s DUDLEY DURSLEY, I WAS RIGHT MOTHER, I WAS RIGHT

I love love love how they didn’t make, like, a major romantic plotline. Beth doesn’t end up with a partner - she ends with a bunch of super supportive friends that have her back by the time she gets to Moscow, and like, she has a crush on Townes but they end up being just like super good and healthy friends and I love it?? So much?? Thank you producers

Townes. Just, in general. I really like his character, he’s super nice and his voice is oddly soothing

BORGOV. I LOVE BORGOV. HE IS SO GODDAMN RESPECTFUL. Like, he seemed like a very cold character at first - well-mannered and extremely professional, yes, but rather cold. But when she wins in Moscow? “It is your game. Take it.” I LOVE THAT SO MUCH. AND HE HUGS HER AND STARTS CLAPPING AND THE AMOUNT OF RESPECT AND ADMIRATION AND AFFECTION IN THAT SCENE IS INCREDIBLE. And you don’t see any of that in Borgov’s face when he’s playing. His facial expressions do not change at all. But then his face when she wins!! He’s HAPPY! He’s like, goddamn, I’ve spent my whole life mastering chess, it’s about time somebody fucking beat me! I know I’m repeating myself but just his RESPECT I absolutely adore it

And Beth’s officer-watcher-person in Moscow was all like “ahhh be wary of the Russians! communism!!” but they absolutely did not make this yet another evil Russian show, like please that trope works for plots but it’s about time somebody did something different - they showed the US government as suspicious of the Soviets but then they showed the solidarity between the chess players that Benny talked about earlier (”The Russians work together, Americans work alone” or something like that), and then they showed the kind and excitable people on the streets, and the amount of support they would have had no matter WHO won that goddamn match. The old man she plays at the end. Everyone is a community.

Continuing that - I cannot for the life of me remember the name of the old man with the very puffy white hair, but I loved him too. He sees Beth as the rising star she is, and he respects her. He admires her. The dynamic there is absolutely immaculate, contrary to the dynamic between Beth and the man she beats earlier, the one who walks off and doesn’t even talk to her. We don’t like that man - we like the ones who admit defeat and respect Beth!! I love them!! They are extremely professional, and they show the warm-heartedness that often doesn’t show with all of the cold stares and glares that pass between players during matches.

Joline. I’m so glad she came back. I love her. She’s extremely independent but she comes back for Beth because Beth needs her but she’s also like “I’m not your savior! Get your shit together!” which is fucking awesome. And the fact that the two of them interacted like the best of friends even after years of separation was really sweet to me.

I nearly cried when Beth went back into the school. (I say ‘nearly’ because there were other people in the room and naturally I can’t do that in front of other people. If I was utterly alone, maybe on my own planet, I would have.) Because of all of it. Because of her trauma, because that’s where all the shit began... and the music during that scene. It was hauntingly beautiful, especially when the melody began switching to cello. And then Beth saw all the pictures and newspaper clips that Mr. Shaibel had saved, because he cared about her so much, because he started it all - he’s the reason she’s going to national tournaments, to Paris, to Moscow. And in that scene, we know he’s too old to be alive anymore, and she does too. The whole school scene in general just feels so ghostly and ethereal. 

I love Borgov, did I say that already? I just... strive to exude his energy. I want to be good at things but I want to hold deep, genuine respect and admiration for others who are also good at the thing, because sometimes I just have the biggest fucking ego and I can get carried away. ‘Borgov, Borgov, Borgov.’ A mantra. He wins respectfully and he loses respectfully. 

BETH’S MOTHER (the second one) JUST FUCKING DIED OUT OF NOWHERE?? AND I WAS SO SHOCKED? Which is really an accurate reflection of reality because death often comes out of nowhere, but DAMN I was not expecting that shit

And the fact that the mother just,,,, let her chug a beer,,,, oof

THE ADDICTION. BETH’S DOWNWARD SPIRAL. IT MADE ME FEEL SO HORRIBLE BUT IT FELT SO REAL. Everything about her progression through addiction was just... I can’t find an adjective. But when she just fucking inhaled that bucket of pills as a kid and then collapsed. When that addiction lasted into her adulthood - it’s really impactful and horrible and just so real. She needed proper care throughout this entire goddamn show and she never got medical care, she just got supportive friends - which, btw, that’s one thing that kind of threw me off. Like, she didn’t have withdrawal in Moscow, she went from chugging like four bottles of wine a day to... not drinking at all?? Without withdrawal symptoms?? And I’m proud of her for throwing away those pills but honestly it felt really fast, idk

GIVING CHILDREN TRANQUILIZERS WAS AN ACTUAL THING THAT HAPPENED. I DID NOT PREVIOUSLY KNOW THIS. BUT LEGITIMATELY, IT HAPPENED. HOLY SHIT.

HARRY BELTIK. He was like, awkwardly in love with Beth and that shit didn’t work out but even afterwards he FUCKING CARED. He’d seen his father drink himself to death and he knew that would happen to Beth and he was scared. So he came back, he tried to help her, and at that point (when she had that fucking scary eye makeup, yeah that was rock bottom) she didn’t care much about the outside world anymore. She was angry, and she was closing herself in. It made my stomach clench in physical pain. Which is a good thing. But also not.

Harry Beltik in general just being so supportive and wanting to help her though, like yeah it was very awkward, but they were vibing

AND BENNY WATTS IS FUCKING GREAT. THAT WHOLE COWBOY LOOK, COWBOY CHESS PLAYER, NOW THAT’S AN AESTHETIC. He was concerned for Beth too. He wanted to help her. He wanted to create that American solidarity that he knew the Soviet competitors had, and ultimately he did when he and everyone else called her in Moscow. Benny is... chaotic good? Neutral? He is quite an interesting character, and Beth’s persistent social awkwardness fades away with him because he knows how to interact with her. He’s a dedicated and smart narcissist, and I’m here for it.

The fact that they made me love and hate Cleo at the same time, and also question Beth’s sexuality when she first met Cleo. Like, she’s from Paris. She considers ‘tomorrow night’ to be a very long time away. I love her mysteriousness. But also, she was the catalyst for Beth’s downward drinking spiral before the match in Paris, so like... I like Cleo’s personality, but not her choices in those previous moments.

The music. Did I mention the music? The soundtrack. The orchestrals. That one song that the mother plays on piano that I hear all the time and I still don’t actually know what it is PLEASE HELP. The music is melancholy in the right moments, upbeat in the right moments, intense and suspenseful in the right moments - and also absent in the right moments. There’s tacet. There’s silence. And it’s always been my firm belief that silence can hold just as much impact as sound. 

Just an interesting note, my mom watched the whole show before me and then re-watched it with me, and when Mr. Shaibel showed up she quickly reassured me that he wasn’t a child molester, because quote “it may be a creepy basement but he’s just really nice” so...  I was reassured

I love Mr. Shaibel, and Beth just kept sticking up for him in front of the press and,,, yeah

I hated that bitch from the high school, what was her name?... The one who showed up in the store with a child? It makes me think about the fact that so many kids are just jerks in high school simply because they can be... and occasionally their fuckery lasts into adulthood but oftentimes it doesn’t. You don’t have to be a jerk when you’re an adult, and you don’t have to be a jerk in high school! People remember, people always remember! So, to the bitch from the high school: fuck you for making Beth feel like an outsider and then trying to reverse gears and accept her, cuz Beth isn’t falling for that shit.

The twins, Matt and Mike. They’re so doubtful of Beth in the beginning but then bam, she’s competing nationally, and I adore how the three of them become friends. All those men playing chess in Kentucky in the beginning seem so condescending, but ultimately they show respect because Beth absolutely fucking deserves it.

I enjoy the fact that we never *really* know Beth’s age. It’s just like... she’s 9, she’s 15, she’s 17, she’s... twenty something? Who the hell knows? As many characters say, when it comes to skill level, age ultimately isn’t an important factor. This young woman beats the oldest man with the bushiest white hair in Moscow and age. Does not. Matter. 

The Jesus people lmaooooo when Beth said “because it’s fucking nonsense” I just. Mad respect ma’am, don’t take their money, go be a communist and “sPrEaD tHe aThEiSt AgEnDa”

Wow I really just... wrote all that didn’t I damn wish I could write essays this fast at reasonable hours of the day

Beth’s relationship with her foster mother is so fucking sweet until she fucking dies

And fuck Beth’s legal father. He is an asshole. That is all.

The mother deserved Manuel, she deserved that sketchy Mexican salesman goddammit

As my final bullet point: This has made me want to play chess. This has made me want to get good at chess. You know that thing where you like, download the personality of the coolest character for like a day after you watch something... I don’t do that anymore (maybe), but I want to download those mad chess skills. This has made chess seem so cool. I want to wear a fancy suit and compete with people. I just have to, you know, actually develop some strategy and stop losing brutally against people online. I wAnT tO pLaY cHesS dO yOu HeAr mE

I’m going to stop now, but I just,,, peeps, I love this show. I’m absolutely going to require a re-watch in the future. I just love it. The characters and their development, their relationships with each other, the progression of time and of Beth’s maturity... it is simply incredible. This concludes my brain dump.

[jocia92]

(Google translated)

Dan Stevens, who grew up in Wales and south-east England, spent his summer holidays at the National Youth Theater at the age of 15, and he was drawn to the stage while studying English in Cambridge. Since his big breakthrough as Matthew Crawley in the hit series “Downton Abbey”, he has also repeatedly appeared in films such as “Inside Wikileaks - The Fifth Force”, “At Night in the Museum: The Secret Tomb” or “Beauty and the Beast” . Most recently, Stevens played the Russian Schnösel singer Lemtov in the Oscar-nominated comedy “Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga” from Netflix. At the beginning of June, the German film “Ich bin dein Mensch” by Maria Schrader celebrated at the Summer Berlinale Premiere, which starts on 1.7. comes to German cinemas regularly. Stevens plays the role of a love robot in it. Unlike on the screen, however, the 38-year-old prefers to speak English in the zoom-conducted interview. He chose a brick wall with a lion motif as the digital background. No allusion to the song “Lion of Love” from “Eurovision Song Contest”, but a photo of the famous Ishtar Gate in Berlin’s Pergamon Museum, where “I am your human” was filmed last summer.

Mr. Stevens, in your new film “I am your human” you play a humanoid robot that is entirely geared towards fulfilling the romantic needs of a skeptical scientist. You yourself recently described the film as “delightfully German”. How did you mean that?

I wanted to say that here pretty big questions - such as what actually makes a person or how much perfection love can take - are negotiated in a very light-footed, elegant and sometimes humorous way. In my experience that is a very German quality. At least I have often seen with many of my German colleagues and friends that they are very good at not discussing difficult issues exclusively deadly serious and melancholy.

Where does your personal connection to Germany and the German language come from?

My parents had friends who lived in Bielefeld and we used to visit them in North Rhine-Westphalia during the school holidays. Traveled from England by car! That’s how I learned a little German as a child, and later I learned it as a subject at school. I even did a short internship there through our friends in Bielefeld. I really love the language. Funnily enough, I was later able to use my knowledge of German professionally, because my first film was “Hilde”, in which I was next to Heike Makatsch played the British actor and director David Cameron, who was married to Hildegard Knef. After that, I always hoped that there might be another chance to speak German in front of the camera, because playing in a foreign language is an exciting challenge. When the chance arose to shoot “I am your person”, I could hardly believe my luck.

Did you know the director Maria Schrader who gave you this chance?

Funnily enough, when the script for the film landed on my table, I had just watched the Netflix series “Unorthodox”, which she directed. I had also watched a few episodes of “Deutschland 89”. In general, I knew that she was a great German actress, not least because friends who knew their way around the German theater scene often raved about her. Working with her was a joy now. Her understanding of actors is quite instinctive and brilliant. I have seldom seen someone who can help an actor who is having difficulties with a scene with such simple means.

The fact that you had already seen “Unorthodox” shows, of course, how quickly “I am your person” must have been implemented in the past year …

Oh yes, that was really quick. In March I was still in New York and was about to premiere a new play on Broadway. But then the pandemic came, everything was canceled and I flew back to my family in Los Angeles. A few weeks later, Maria and I met each other via Zoom - and shortly afterwards I was sitting outside in a café in the Berlin June sun for the first time in months to discuss the upcoming shoot with her. That was pretty surreal because I hadn’t actually left the house since March.

Is it correct that you oriented yourself to Cary Grant and Jimmy Stewart to portray the romantically programmed robot Tom?

In any case, these were role models that Maria and I spoke about. When you think of the game between the two of them, you always see an enormous clarity and directness. Cary Grant, for example, was always quite funny, especially in his romantic roles, but also flawless in an almost artificial way from today’s perspective. I found that very suitable for a robot. Apart from the fact that the ideas that Tom and his algorithm have of romance and love are certainly also shaped by the classic romantic comedies from Hollywood. Oh, the woman is sad, so I’ll bring her flowers! Such automatisms from the stories from back then were very appropriate for Tom now.

Keyword role models: Who shaped you in your career as an actor?

There were of course many. Jimmy Stewart was certainly something of a role model. My mom and I watched a lot of his films when I was little and I was always impressed by the kind of sweet tragedy that went into all of his roles. But maybe Robin Williams’ work influenced me even more. I always found the incredible variety of his films remarkable. He could make his audience laugh hysterically like no other, but also move them to tears in other roles. I always wanted to emulate this range.

In fact, the range of your roles is enormous and ranges from the Disney blockbuster “Beauty and the Beast” to a comic adaptation in series format such as “Legion” to bulky independent films such as “Her Smell” or the horror thriller “The Rental “, Which we just released on DVD. Is there a method behind this diversity?

Not in principle. I like variety, but I’m not just looking for roles that are as different as possible from one another. Rather, there are always similar factors that I use to select my projects. Sometimes there is a certain director that I really want to work with. Or the role itself is irresistible because it presents me with acting challenges. And sometimes a script is just fantastically written and I am interested in the topics it is about. With “I am your person” it was definitely the latter, especially since the timing was just right. In 2020 there were so many societal questions that ultimately touched the core of human existence. Such a script, which deals with something very similar in a light-footed way, was just fitting.

A few years ago you said in a questionnaire from the British Guardians that your greatest weakness was not being able to make up your mind. So every time you are offered a role, do you ponder whether you should accept?

No, no, when a script appeals to me, it actually does it very quickly. It’s such a gut feeling. If I’m unsure and skeptical, that’s a good indicator that this is not the right thing for me. That with the difficulty in making decisions related rather to something else. For example, it takes me forever to order in a restaurant because I can never decide what on the menu appeals to me the most.

You became famous with the role of Matthew Crawley in the series "Downton Abbey”. Did you immediately suspect at the time that something big was going on?

At first we were all pretty clueless. There are really many British history series, and we were one of them. When the first season aired in the US and was a huge success there, it was pretty unexpected. I never expected the impact the series would have on my career.

Barely ten years later, are you still being asked about the role?

Oh yes, regularly. Probably nothing will change about that either. I got out after three seasons!

In the meantime, however, the flamboyant Russian singer Alexander Lemtov from “Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga” should also be a character with whom you will be immediately associated, right?

Right, it has been mentioned more and more recently when people recognize me on the street. This charming, silly film obviously had a nerve with the audience last year in the middle of the corona pandemic. Especially since the real Eurovision Song Contest had been canceled.

The film was the number one topic of conversation on the Internet for a while - and Lemtov GIFs and memes were everywhere. Did you follow that?

It was really hard to avoid it. I wasn’t looking specifically for what people were posting. But of course my friends passed a lot on to me, and there were already some very funny Lemtov things. But he’s also a figure made for GIFs.

Another question every British actor under 40 has to put up with these days: Would you like to become the next James Bond?

Oh, of course, everyone gets to hear this question again and again who meets certain criteria. But it is completely hypothetical. Although a few years ago I read in an audio book by Ian Fleming’s “Casino Royale”.

You mentioned earlier that you and your family have lived in the United States for a long time. How big is your homesickness?

I actually feel very comfortable in Los Angeles. But every now and then I miss the sidewalk culture of European cities. People on foot, street cafes, things like that. Last year the longing for it was particularly great, although it was of course clear to me that there was a state of emergency in Europe too. In any case, I found myself reading books that were set in Europe and made me homesick. Which is why the unexpected trip to Berlin was really a boon.

You are also an avid cricketer. That’s certainly difficult in Los Angeles, isn’t it?

There are quite a few cricket clubs here. The only problem is that the few people who do the sport here are so good at it that I have problems keeping up. That’s why I always lose sight of the matter here a little. Even as a pure TV viewer, it is not easy to stay on the ball, because of course there is no cricket broadcast here at prime time. But as soon as I’m home in England in the summer, I really want to play again!

[ffakc]

A Midwest Christmas - a Jeffrey Dean Morgan fanfiction

Again, I’m aware I’m late posting this. I know it’s no longer Christmas, don’t yell at me. Christmas is one of my favorite holidays and I LOVE writing stories that are based around Christmas.

Jeff crushed out his cigarette and breathed hot air into his hands to warm them. He shrugged his shoulders a few times, almost as if he was psyching himself up.

“You okay, babe?” I ask and kiss his cheek, shutting the car off.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I don’t know why I’m so nervous! I’m a grown ass man, damn it,” my boyfriend chuckles.

“They’ll love you, Jeff. You know my mom and dad love you already, you have nothing to worry about, baby” I give his thigh a squeeze and kiss his neck deeply. Jeff moans and tilts his head to the side.

“Please don’t give me a boner before meeting your female relatives,” Jeff chuckles. “I don’t know, babe. Dad might not love me after I walk through the door,” he gestures to his Seattle Seahawks beanie.

“He’ll get over it,” I laugh and open the car door. Jeff grabs the box of gifts from the trunk and holds my hand as we walk to the front door.

“Merry Christmas Eve!” I holler from the foyer. Jeff kicks off his boots.

“Hey sweetie! Hey Jeff, what’s up, brother?” my dad calls from the den.

“Hey, Mr. C,” Jeff smiles warmly.

“Oh no, oh no. You take that hat off! You’re in Bear country!” my dad laughs. “Just when I thought I liked you!”

“I knew you’d say something! GO HAWKS!” Jeff chuckles and tosses it onto the bench. My dad jokingly makes a fist. I roll my eyes playfully and ruffle his hair as we head upstairs. Men and their sports, I’ll never understand it.

“You can just set the gifts under the tree,” I whisper to Jeff and give his arm a squeeze. He waves at my female relatives at the table.

“Hiiiii! Merry Christmas! I’ve missed you!” my cousin Amy hugs me. “How’s New York?”

“Absolutely incredible. Every day feels like a new adventure with this one,” I gesture to my man standing behind me. “This is my boyfriend, Jeff!”

“Hi there, you must be Amy? I’ve heard so much about you!” Jeff shakes her hand and kisses her cheek.

“All good things I hope!” Amy laughs.

“Yes ma’am. I’ve heard y’all are super close, and I love that. Family togetherness recharges the batteries.”

“I’m glad to hear it! I can’t think of a single holiday we didn’t spend together,” Amy gestures around the table.

“Have a seat!” my mom says. “Can I get you anything to drink? We have wine, beer, Coke Zero...”

“I’ll have a Coke,” Jeff replies and sits next to me at the long dinner table. I pull a small bottle of Crown Royal out of my bag.

“I’ll take a Coke as well,” I laugh.

“You came to party! I’ll take some too,” Jeff wraps his arm around me and kisses my cheek as I add the liquor to his glass of ice, “It smells amazing in here, Ma,” Jeff says to my mom.

“Thanks, Jeff! It’s a tradition on Christmas that we have Grandma, my mom’s, tacos. The shells are from a tiny little Mexican kitchen downtown, that’s how my mom always did it. I think we’re just waiting on Jessica and then we’ll be ready to eat!”

“Sounds delicious,” Jeff sips his drink.

“How’d you guys meet? You look super familiar, Jeff,” my aunt Janine remarks. I rest my head on Jeff’s shoulder.

“It all started when I began frequenting this coffee shop that opened near my, well, OUR farm while on hiatus from work. I couldn’t take my eyes off this brown eyed manager with the messy bun in her hair who would always ring me up and make my drink. Golly, she looked cute in that apron,” Jeff nudges me and everyone laughs as I blush. “I finally had to ask this pretty young thing out. I invited her over for dinner and the rest is history. One year and some change later and I can’t imagine my life with anyone else but my baby gal,” he kisses me softly. “Oh! I’m an actor, by the way. I’m currently on a show called The Walking Dead, I play the bad guy named Negan. A lot of people still recognize me as Denny from Grey’s Anatomy and John Winchester from Supernatural though,” Jeff smiles warmly.

“I knew those eyes looked familiar!” my aunt exclaims. “Wow, girl, a famous actor? Check you out!”

“He’s pretty great. I thought the concept of soulmates was cheesy til this man came along. I mean, nobody’s perfect, but Jeffrey comes pretty darn close,” I rub his thigh under the table.

“How old are you anyway? That gray beard says you’re old,” my 13 year old cousin Alyssa asks.

“Lys! You can’t just say that!” her mom quiets her.

“It’s okay, hon! I’m not offended at all! I AM old, real old. I’m 54,” Jeff laughs.

“And how old are you?” Alyssa turns her attention to me.

“24,” I link my arm with my man’s and nuzzle his shoulder.

“Sooo, you were 30 when she was born?” Alyssa makes a sassy face.

“Don’t push it, little girl,” Jeff teases and we all laugh.

*Jeff’s POV*

“So, this is the man cave, huh?” I glance around at the fishing poles adorning the chocolate brown wall and Chicago sports gear.

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice! It gets cold down here, but the fireplace helps!” my girlfriend’s dad Tim tosses some kindling on the fire.

“Super cozy,” I remark. I haven’t been this nervous in a long time. I had something I desperately wanted to ask him, but I didn’t want to just get right to it.

“How you doin’, bud?” my girlfriend’s grandfather Ray asks.

“Good, Ray! I’m really good, fantastic actually. It feels so nice to be off work for the holidays! Thank you guys so much for welcoming me into your home. Dinner was delicious and the Midwest hospitality is much appreciated.”

“You’re always welcome here,” Tim says.

“This is for you,” Ray reaches into his coat pocket. He passes a CD my way with small writing on the jacket, “To: Jeff. Love, Grampa.”

“Aww, what’s this?” I say, pushing my glasses up.

“Elvis Christmas songs. Something for you and your girl to dance to. You better treat her good,” he smiles his adorable old man smile.

“Thank you so much, Grandpa,” I get up and give him a hug. “You didn’t have to get me anything. So, um,” I clear my throat as I settle into the couch. “There’s something we should talk about. I mean, something I need to ask you. I don’t know, I’m shaky as hell. So, how do I put this?” I pull a small velvet box out of my pocket. “I brought this with me.”

“You want to marry me? Let me go get my dress!” Tim teases. Whew, a joke to break the tension.

“Yeah, totally! I, wow, I’m going to cry. Pull yourself together, Jeff. I wanted to know if I can ask your daughter to be my wife. She’s got me wrapped, man. When I look into her eyes, I just fall in love over and over again. I know it’s old fashioned of me to ask, but I thought I’d do the right thing and ask for your blessing. I love your girl so damn much, you have no idea,” I wipe tears away.

“I had a feeling this would be happening. You kept staring at me all through dinner with this lost puppy look in your eye, like I was going to yell at you or something! Jeff, I see the way she looks at you and it warms her dad’s heart. Every time you speak, she stops immediately what she’s doing and stares at you with hearts in her eyes. I’ve never seen my daughter so happy. Of course you have my blessing.” My heart begins hammering in my chest as my soon to be fiancée’s dad pulls me into a hug.

“Thank you so much, sir! Oh my god, I’m freaking out. Thank you, thank you! So, next question, where’s the best place to propose around these parts?”

“Well, downtown near your hotel on 5th Avenue, it’s all decked out in Christmas lights. Maybe you guys could take a walk down there?”

***

“What a great dinner, your family is so kind and welcoming!” Jeff says as we climb into the warm car. “I love you so much, doll.”

“I’m so glad you had a good time, honey. I knew you would! I love you too, Jeff. I’m so looking forward to the hot tub when we get back to the room, I don’t know about you.” Jeff slides his hand over my upper thigh seductively as I drive through the city in the direction of the hotel. I glance over at my boyfriend and he gives me the sexiest bedroom eyes. I could have just stopped the car and taken him right there. We jam out to our favorite Christmas songs and giggle like kids.

“Fifth Avenue,” Jeff mutters. “Pull over, babe.” I pull into a parking spot and Jeff grabs my face and kisses me deeply, “Let’s go walkin’ in a winter wonderland.” I smile and shut the car off and follow behind him. Jeff’s adorable spontaneity was one of his best qualities. He takes me by the hand as we look at the twinkling lights. There’s no cars on the road and the snow dampens all the sound.

“Hey, sweetheart?” Jeff places his hands on my hips.

“Yes?” I wrap my arms around his neck. We hold each other close.

“You’re so damn perfect,” he pecks my lips, I run my fingers through his soft gray hair. “I tried to come up with a long romantic speech, but words are failing me. You’re everything I’ve hoped and dreamed for. You’re the reason I wake up in the morning. You’re the reason I can’t wipe this smile off my face. Every time I look into those gentle brown eyes, I’m reminded of why I fell in love with you all over again. A life without you is a life I don’t want to live. You’re my entire world, sweet girl.” Jeff pulls away and reaches into his pocket.

“Oh my god,” I sigh, “Jeffrey, I-I-“ I’m utterly speechless. Jeff brushes away the snow on the sidewalk with his gloved hand and gets on one knee.

“Will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?” Jeff smiles widely, opening the velvet box and revealing a simple, shimmering band. That man knew me so well, it was exactly the

“Oh god, Daddy! Yes! Yes, Jeffrey, yes I’ll marry you!” I jump up and down excitedly. Jeff’s hands shake as he slides the ring on my finger. I gasp with delight, “I love you. Oh baby, it’s beautiful!” Jeff gets to his feet and rests his forehead against mine as we both cry tears of joy. My breath quavers from excitement and the biting cold as Jeff kisses me over and over again.

“I want you to be mine forever,” he whispers against my lips.

“Forever and ever. Oh my god, my heart is racing! You’re so amazing, I love you so much.”

“I love you the most, baby gal.”

***

Jeff and I could hardly keep our hands off each other as we hustled to the elevator.

“Merry Christmas!” the front desk agent calls out.

“You too!” Jeff replies with a friendly wave. I untie my coat as the door to the elevator shuts. I tangle my fingers in my silver fox’s thick hair and moan as he kisses my neck and pulls down my sweater, brushing his scruffy beard against my chest as he kisses and sucks gently.

“Jeffrey, you naughty boy,” I gasp. His large, slender hand find its way between my thighs. “Please, Daddy,” I whine. Jeff slides his fingers down the front of my leggings. He pulls them out just as the elevator chimes, my face goes red as I readjust my Christmas sweater and Jeff fixes his hair as if nothing ever happened.

“Merry Christmas!” an innocent, elderly Mrs. Claus looking woman greets us.

“Merry Christmas to you too!” I reply, the cool air of the hallway hitting Jeff’s saliva on my chest, causing me to shiver with delight. We laugh to ourselves as Jeff opens the door to our suite. Oh, that poor old lady, I hope she didn’t hear too much.

“Let’s see, how about we celebrate with a drink!” Jeff says with a wide smile, slinging his coat over a chair.

“Hmm, how about something sweet? I kind of want dessert after all those tacos,” I wrap my arms around my now fiancé’s waist as he kisses me, his large hands squeeze me closer.

“Your sweater reminds me, how about a White Russian?”

“I am, in fact, the Dude. One of my favorites,” I reply with a laugh.

“Hmm. Vodka, check. Coffee liqueur, got it. Cream, hmm. Cream, cream, cream,” Jeff taps his chin. “Got it!” he grabs some half and half packets from the coffee station.

“Ah, resourceful! I like that!” I kiss him and sit on the bed, “I’ll get the bath ready.”

I draw the bath and Jeff hands me a drink, setting his on the rim of the tub. He unbuttons his shirt revealing his hairy chest and stomach. He kisses me.

“I love you so much,” he says. “Nice ring you’ve got there.”

“Thanks!” I run my fingers down his chest, “My handsome fiancé gave it to me.”

“He must be a lucky guy,” Jeff’s pants come off and he slides into the tub with a loud groan.

“Jesus, that feels so fucking good,” he runs his fingers through his hair. “Come on in, baby gal, the water’s fine.” Jeff bites his lip eagerly as I take my clothes off. “You’re so sexy, you know that?”

“I could say the same about you, darlin’,” I reply, tossing my bra on the floor. I tie my hair up as my fiancé looks me up and down. I climb in the tub, opposite of the rugged older man that I was so lucky to call mine. Jeff grabs my leg and begins kissing the length of my calf.

“When and where do you want to get married?” he asked with a sly smile, kneading my legs.

“Honestly, I’ve always dreamed of a fall or winter wedding. You know how I feel about hot weather,” I take a sip of my White Russian.

“Babe, it’s too hot! This is stupid! Ninety degrees? Ew, fuck that!” Jeff imitates my whining. I laugh.

“You know me so well!”

“Daddy, I have a headache!” Jeff cackles.

“Will you shut the fuck up?” I playfully splash water in his face with my foot. Jeff sputters.

“I give you shit because I love you!” he wipes his face.

“I know, and I give it right back to you, asshole! What were we talking about again?” I giggle.

“Wedding plans?”

“Oh, right. So, definitely a fall wedding. What about on the farm? Ballrooms have never really struck my fancy. That little area off beyond the pastures would be beautiful, don’t you think?”

“I agree, I don’t need a big gala with a stuffy tuxedo to show everyone how much I love you. Ooh! How about under that big tree where we had a picnic and carved our names?” Jeff places my legs on his shoulders.

“J hearts K, yeah, I remember,” I sigh longingly. “That’s where you first told me you loved me.”

“Aw, it was, wasn’t it? You packed us a picnic and everything! You’re just a regular Ina Garten, aren’t you? Remember me yelling at the dogs to stay away from the alpacas? ‘Guys, those aren’t puppies, they’ll kick the shit out of you!’” Jeff laughs.

“Well, if I’m Ina, you’re Jeffrey! Hey, look at that! It works!” I tap my glass against his. “Those dogs are so cute, but they’re little shits sometimes.”

“Oh, absolutely they are,” Jeff agrees. “Wow, that cute barista who I was scared to ask out is going to be my wife? How did I get so damn lucky?”

“You were scared to ask me out? Why? We would always chit-chat back and forth.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why. I think it’s because I didn’t want to be THAT guy. You know, the guy who thinks the food service worker is flirting with him just because she’s being nice,” Jeff rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t get that impression from you at all! I think you’re sexy as fuck, and have since the day I first met you. If I thought you were a scumbag, I wouldn’t have flirted back. And I wouldn’t have had sex with you on the first date, would I?” I tease.

“You’re right. Man, that was a wild night, eh? My heart still beats fast when I think about it,” Jeff grins. “You looked so damn good in my shirt too. Come here,” he holds out his arms and I make my way to his side of the tub, sitting on his lap. He runs his manly hands all over my body and buries his face in my neck, kissing and moaning, “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Mrs. Morgan.”

“I love the sound of that. I get to be your wife and I’ve never been happier in my entire life. I love you so much, Jeffrey.”

“I love you too.”

We eventually climb out of the tub, after kissing and laughing and talking til the water turns our toes to raisins. I wrap myself in a fuzzy bathrobe and Jeff quickly does the same. I climb in the big, fluffy bed and Jeff snuggles next to me. He wraps his slender arms around me and I immediately drift off to sleep.

***

“Merry Christmas, gorgeous,” Jeff’s croaky, sultry morning voice rings in my ears like church bells. He kisses my forehead, his scruff brushing against my skin. I squint my eyes at the bright sun bouncing off the snow and flooding our suite.

“Merry Christmas, Daddy,” I curl up closer to his warm body. I close my eyes and bury my face in his chest, “Has anyone told you that you look like Santa Claus with your beard?” I laugh and kiss his collarbones.

“Every damn day on social media,” Jeff chuckles. He moans softly at my touch. I stop and hold out my left hand, my vintage gold band shimmering in the light.

“Just had to make sure I wasn’t dreaming,” I smile.

“You ain’t dreamin’, sweet girl. You’re going to be my wife,” Jeff kisses me and strokes my hair. He climbs on top of me, our naked bodies still cloaked in the beige comforter. He buries his face in my neck, leaving sloppy kisses.

“Daddy,” I whimper.

“Yeah, baby?” I hold his face in my hands.

“Nothing, I just like looking at you. You sure are pretty. What do you say we have a little fun before going back to Mom and Dad’s?”

“I would want nothing more,” I reply as Jeff pulls the blanket over his head and begins kissing down my body. I giggle with delight as his beard tickles me. Best. Christmas. Ever.

Tag list: @negans-attagirl @jdmbbycakes @iluvneganandjamie

[lady-divine-writes]

Good Omens - I Was Given Four Rules to Follow ... I Broke Every One: Chapter 3/3 (Rated PG13)

Summary: When Warlock Dowling is summoned to the old South Downs cottage of Aziraphale and Crowley to help clean out their attic, presumably after their deaths, he is given four rules to follow.

... He breaks every single one.

Read on AO3.

January 15th –

He opened his eyes!

He opened his eyes and looked at me!

After hours of waiting in the dark and in the cold, despairing every second and wishing I was dead myself, he opened his eyes.

But it came close to being all for naught because I almost died myself right then and there.

It was good to see him with his eyes wide open, but the golden eyes I loved so much are gone. 

These new eyes are white on white, the pupils infinitely dark, the irises torn. They stare without blinking. They look into me, into my soul, it seems. They connect to the love that runs deep within me, to every touch he has ever left on my skin, to every promise we both made. 

But they do not recognize me. 

Am I, at all, familiar to him?

I don’t want to reject him, whether he knows me or not. But those eyes unnerve me.

There’s so much about them that’s innocent and frightened.

So much about them that’s desolate and dead.

We literally spent the morning just looking at one another.

I would give anything to know what’s going on in his mind. 

What does he see when he looks at me? 

I want to reach out and touch him, but I’m afraid. I know it won’t be the same. He won’t be warm, won't be comforting. What could be worse than a dead copy of a once alive and loving creature? I don’t know. 

But whatever this is, it might be. 

He won’t smell like Crowley. He won’t have his cheek, won't have his soothing voice. It’s almost as if I adopted some wild animal and decided to make it my husband.

What have I done?

***

January 16th –

All day long, he tried to move, grunting with the effort of struggling to stand up and get out of bed. He didn’t speak words; he just groaned. I wanted to help him. I wanted to pretend that he was simply convalescing after a horrible illness. I wanted to bathe him and dress him. I wanted to sit him down in front of the television, prop up his feet, and feed him brandy and ice-cream. I wanted to put this chapter behind us and get on with our lives.

I wanted to make believe him dying had never happened.

But I’m not that good an actor.

He behaves exactly the way the old woman warned me he would. He reminds me of a child.

I never wanted children.

This is the ‘in sickness and in health’ part of the marriage package, which I agreed to without hesitation.

Never mind the ‘till death do us part’ portion.

This comes with my vows, and I will honor them.

My love will help him. I know it will.

…

Can I really do this, or am I fooling myself?

***

January 17th –

I’m trying my best to take the bad with the good.

I managed to get him to the living room sofa. His legs were stiff, and he couldn’t seem to bend his knees.

He had been declared dead-on-arrival because of the injury to his neck. But I wonder if anything else is broken. I wasn’t really paying attention to the doctor when he went over the extent of Crowley’s injuries. After I heard the word dead, I tuned out.

I should get a copy of Crowley’s hospital records.

But if his legs are broken, how will I deal with that? Will the potion magically fix everything? It brought him back to life. Could fixing broken legs be more difficult than reanimating a corpse? What is the extent of the potion's effects? Do I need a secondary potion of some kind to repair internal injuries?

Maybe I should call the shopkeeper back and ask.

We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

He stumbled numerous times and fell on me. I did my best not to cringe at his touch or accidentally drop him. But those eyes, so close to mine, were like looking into a nightmare. I could see through them to the veins and arteries behind, the blood inside them black and unhealthy.

The fourth time he stumbled, though, I got the feeling that maybe he was falling on purpose so that I would be forced to catch him.

I even thought I saw the shadow of a smile cross his lips.

I watched him as he sat in front of the TV and renewed his passion for The Golden Girls. That show had been one of his favorites since he was a small boy.

He sat so still. 

He didn’t swallow. 

He didn’t appear to breathe.

The only time he moved was when he looked over to where I sat, I think, to make sure I was still there.

He sat for hours and watched TV. 

There was nothing else for him to do.

I fed him salad for dinner, let him stay in front of the television instead of making him go to the dining room table. I didn’t see any reason to move him. He leaned down and sniffed the cold lettuce leaves, but he did not eat.

Neither did I.

***

January 19th –

After a full day of limping him around the house, Crowley is surprisingly steady on his feet. He can make it from the bedroom to the living room sofa by himself. It takes him a while, but he can do it.

His body is still in rigor, but he seems to be getting more comfortable with it.

I should be jumping for joy at his progress. The more mobile he becomes, the less dependent he will be on me. Every day that he improves, even a little, he is closer to becoming the man he was.

But I don’t know how comfortable I am with that anymore.

***

January 21st -

He doesn’t sleep. And now that he doesn’t rely on me to get around the house, neither do I. I know he sees me as a parent-figure, so he won’t hurt me. But he’s such an alien creature. Not like the old Crowley at all.

It’s strange having this version of him around the house.

When Crowley was

Before the accident, Crowley was so independent. He didn’t need me, didn’t need my help with anything.

But now, he needs to be near me all the time.

I understood there would be a change in our dynamic, but it’s such a striking change that it’s difficult to get used to.

I took a shower for the first time in days. I left him in the living room watching TV, but when I finished and opened the curtain, there he was, standing there … staring.

I fell asleep for about an hour afterward, and when I woke up, he was kneeling beside me, again staring at me.

He’s always staring.

What does he think about doing when he stares at me?

***

January 22nd –

I finally broke down and gave Crowley a shower. He didn’t stink, but there was something about him, something that smelled … well, I can't seem to find the words to describe it. 

I just wanted it gone.

I’ve seen the injuries to his chest numerous times, but I haven't paid much attention to his back.

When I saw them, I almost threw up.

And he noticed. 

He heard me gag. 

I gasped, held in my urge to be sick.

He turned to face me, and for the first time, he had an expression on his face different from his blank one … but also different from that smile I thought I saw when I was helping him walk around the house.

He looked hurt.

***

January 27th -

Each day that he improves, I debate telling our friends that he's here. I know they miss us terribly. But in the end, it would be too cruel. He’s not himself anymore. He never will be. Most days, I curse myself for doing this to him. My motives were selfish. I wasn’t thinking of anyone but myself when I made the decision to bring him back. 

I wasn’t even thinking of him.

Our lives are unrecognizable. We’ll never travel the world like we'd planned. Who knows if I’ll make it back to my bookshop? Should probably shut it down and have my books transported here. The way things look, the rest of our days will be spent in this cottage. 

I have to be okay with that.

But what about Crowley?

If you asked rational me if I think he wants to live this half-life, with no potential to be anything other than a human puppet, who only barely resembles the man that was Anthony J Crowley, I would have to say no. Absolutely not.

But I can’t turn back now.

What am I expected to do? Poison his tea? Smother him in his sleep?

Would attempting to kill him even work?

And what about his soul? 

If there is a Heaven, I surely pulled him out of it with my cock-eyed plan. What if there is no going back for him? 

I can only hope that my love for him is enough to keep him from hating me when he’s able to comprehend what I’ve done to him.

***

February 1st –

I’ve finally gotten him to eat – bits and pieces mostly, bites of vegetables and corners of bread. It doesn’t seem like he likes it, but he eats it, and that’s good. He eats because I tell him to. It shows that he trusts me.

He’s more self-sufficient now. 

He showers and brushes his teeth on his own. He picks out his pajamas and dresses himself. Sometimes he tries his hand at making the bed. He is attempting to be more vocal, but he has yet to say a single thing that isn’t a grunt or a moan.

I’ve been looking up the subject of speech delay on the Internet, trying to find ways to help him learn. I came across one website in particular with fun, creative ideas. I started making flashcards of consonant blends and one-syllable words. I felt so accomplished, so hopeful, like I was actually doing something positive toward the goal of moving us forward. I felt confident that after a little work with them, everything would be all right. I was so excited to show them to him, but then I realized …

… I have no idea if he can read.

***

February 3rd –

I tried calling the old woman at the antique shop in Soho to ask about the effects of the potion, but the phone has been disconnected.

I guess they went out of business after all.

It doesn’t matter. Nothing appears to be broken. Or maybe it’s that he doesn’t feel pain.

I was teaching him how to cook, hoping it would bring a bit of the old Crowley back. We used to cook together all the time. Honestly, we weren't all that good at it, but that didn't stop us from trying. We had just gotten the hang of a decent souffle before ...

Anyway ...

I started him small. 

I had him grating cheese. 

Seemed simple enough. The grater stands on its own, so not much to juggle. But he pressed too hard, ran the grater over the backs of his fingers, scraped off skin. He didn’t so much as flinch. I think it bothered me more than it bothered him. I bandaged it up and, without thinking, I kissed the wound. I looked at him in utter shock …

… and he smiled.

My heart leapt.

It’s so nice to see him smile again. 

I never thought I would.

***

February 4th –

I took off Crowley’s bandage, and his wound from the cheese grater is gone! There’s not a trace of it left!

I guess that answers that question.

I should be relieved, but it bothers me, and I don’t know why.

***

February 21st –

Today was the most unexpectedly intense, depressing, and wonderful day all at once.

It started when Crowley woke this morning. He got up before me and tried to make me crepes. I had no idea why. He hadn't tried to cook by himself before, didn't even show an interest in cooking without me. He burned them, himself, and the stove all in one go. The fire alarm woke me, blaring in my ears. I managed to get to the extinguisher in time, but poor Crowley looked heartbroken over his ruined pan of blackened food.

Then, before lunch, he wanted to go outside. I think he was trying to sneak out, but I caught him jiggling the front doorknob (he has yet to master the bolt - thank God). When I caught him, he slammed his hand on the door in frustration and sprinted for the back one. I followed him, knowing it was locked and that he wouldn’t be able to open it. When I reached him, he was trying to wedge his way out of the old cat flap. (Note to self - board up the cat flaps! I don’t know why we kept them. We’ve never owned a cat.) 

I patted him gently on the shoulder and asked him what he needed. He stood up and groaned, moving his mouth and wiggling his tongue, making nonsensical sounds. When he couldn’t say what he needed to, he pointed out the window to the garden. I assumed he wanted to check on his dahlias. I’m a disaster with flowers, and, unfortunately, I haven’t been able to keep them up the way he could. 

Of course, it's one degree outside. The poor things are frozen solid. They're not even flowers any longer, I don't think, but the frigid remains of what they once were.

But he’d had yet to show any interest in them, either, before today. 

I shrugged, repeated that I didn’t understand. He pointed more forcefully, jabbing at the window with his index finger.

“I don’t know what you're trying to tell me, my dear,” I said. “Do you want to go for a walk?” 

I've taken him walking around Soho a few times. I've been trying to tie up loose ends, decide if selling the bookshop is the road to take. I wrapped him up in a full-length coat and scarf with just his eyes peeking out. I guess he enjoyed it, but he’d never asked to go outside. He shook his head and pointed again, this time at the dying rose bushes that I hadn’t had time to deadhead. I didn’t get it. I shook my head, and he stormed off to the bedroom.

I followed him there, but he blocked the door.

I could hear him inside, moaning. It was horrible. It sounded like pain and embarrassment and frustration, all rolled together. And I couldn’t help him.

He wouldn’t let me.

I tried to lure him out several times, but he didn’t come out till dinner time.

And when he did, he was dressed in a black Bergdorf suit.

Crowley has dozens of expensive black suits, and he looks stunning in all of them.

But this suit.

This suit in particular.

This suit had been hanging front and center in his closet.

Because it was the suit I had planned on burying him in.

It threw me for a loop, dragging me kicking and screaming back to that day I found out he had died, before I’d decided to try bringing him back, before I knew that I could. I took out the suit to air it. I guess I hadn’t put it back with the others because there it was, standing before me with the living corpse of my husband inside.

The sight took all the air out of my lungs.

“Take it off,” I said quietly, trying not to alarm him, but how was I supposed to explain to my somewhat dead husband that I didn’t want to see him dressed in the suit I had planned on putting him in the ground in?

He looked confused and shook his head, opening his mouth and groaning.

“Please, Crowley,” I begged, hoping he would hear my anguish and understand, “take it off.”

He stomped his foot and shook his head, the way a petulant child would. It should have been cute, but I couldn’t handle it. I've had issues getting used to his looks lo these many weeks, but for the first time since he came back to me, he looked dead.

“Take it off!” I screamed. I ran at him, grabbed the lapels, trying to tear it off his body. He held me, pinned my arms, and I could feel his renewed strength. I hadn’t really let him touch me before, but now I knew that if he wanted to, he could probably hurt me.

I stared up at him, realizing that he was hovering above me, and I was lying on my back on the floor. My heart stopped. He had never looked menacing before. Even in death, he seemed so innocent. But now, he looked like a monster. He had a piece of paper balled in his grasp, and he tried to make me look at it, but I couldn’t take my eyes away from his face – pale and cold and lifeless, regardless of the fact that he was my Crowley.

He stared at me, trying to speak.

It hit me like a pile of bricks.

Speak.

That’s exactly what he was doing. 

His lips were moving in exaggerated, grotesque ways that shouldn’t be able to turn sound into words, but they were.

“A … Az … Azi …”

Crowley blinked and shook his head.

“Azir …”

“Aziraphale?” I asked in awe that he was trying to say my name.

Crowley laughed. It was a glorious, hollow, frankly frightening sound, but I couldn’t help smiling when I heard it. He put his fingers to my lips. 

I guess he didn’t want me to steal his thunder.

“Azzzir-uh-phale,” he said, smacking his lips. “I … lo … I lov …” Crowley swallowed again, closing his eyes, trying to make the words in his head match the movement of his lips. “I … love … you … Azzzir-uh-phale.”

Crowley tapped again at the paper on the floor. This time I did what he wanted and looked. He had torn off the current page from the calendar and was poking at a box circled shakily in red. I peered down at it.

I could have cried.

“Our ... our anniversary?” I asked, looking into his broken eyes. He sighed, nodding.

It was our anniversary.

He’d wanted to make me breakfast in bed … for our anniversary.

He’d wanted to get me roses … for our anniversary.

My husband had wanted to do something nice for me … for our anniversary.

My husband had spent all day teaching himself how to say, “I love you, Aziraphale,” because there was nothing else he could do for me.

My husband remembered our anniversary ...

... even when I had not.

***

June 4th -

Five months-ish later…

I can’t believe it! 

I cannot believe it!

Five months later and we’ve made it! Despite the odds. Despite the difficulties and the heartaches. Despite every time I thought about giving up, here we are.

Happy.

Together.

We spend our days wrapped in each other’s arms. We watch TV. I read books out loud - he sits and listens. Crowley is re-learning how to drive, and I’m on the hunt for a new Bentley. Our lives might not be what they were before, but they’re perfect for us.

We’ve managed to go to the city more, spent a few glorious nights at our flat in Mayfair. We've even interacted with one or two of our old friends. It's a wonder what some foundation and blusher can accomplish! I told them it was a medical miracle, and they believed me.

Because that's what Crowley is.

A miracle!

Okay, maybe I am tempting fate. But maybe fate needs to be tempted from time to time! 

His vocabulary has expanded immensely, and a hint of his old suave confidence has come back, along with the muddy accent I so often teased him about.

I am finally at a point where I am optimistic about the future.

Because I’m beginning to think that there might actually be one for us.

***

August 13th –

I woke this morning to a strange squealing noise. At first, I thought it might be the smoke alarm again - odd since we got the cooking situation sorted, I thought. The longer I listened to it, the more I realized it wasn’t the smoke alarm. It didn’t sound familiar at all, so I didn’t worry too much about it. As long as an errant sheep didn’t get hit by a car, there was really no reason to jump out of bed and investigate. After a few minutes of listening to the goings-on outside, I determined that wasn’t the case, so I considered going back to sleep.

But then I noticed that Crowley wasn’t laying beside me in bed.

That isn’t too unusual. He’s normally the first one up on any given day. I just curl back into a ball holding his pillow to my chest until he returns.

He always returns.

The squealing wasn’t really that weird. I’ve thought for the last few months that we might have rats. Or squirrels. Or possums. I’ve heard that same squealing a few times before. But seeing as I can’t find any evidence of rodent-caused destruction anywhere in the house, I haven’t been too aggressive about hunting it down.

My stomach began to growl. I guessed I had been asleep for longer than I thought. Instead of returning to bed, I decided to make some waffles for breakfast. So I got up and went out into the kitchen.

That’s where I found Crowley.

He was crouching on the floor …

… covered in blood …

… biting into the spine of what used to be a raggedy old Maine coon …

I looked at him.

He looked at me.

He grinned his old, sly grin, licked his bloody lips, and said, "Hello, Aziraphale. Can I get you a cuppa tea? I know just how you like it."

He winked at me, and my heart stuttered.

…

I may have a problem.

***

Those are the last words on the page.

A page where the ink is smeared from tears, and the edges crusted in blood.

I haven’t seen Aziraphale or Crowley in decades. They used to send the occasional letter, but those stopped a while ago, and they never call. But something tells me neither of them ever left this house alive.

I’m afraid my time, too, has run out. I came to this house alone. But huddled in the darkest corner of the attic, I hear footsteps coming closer, a sour voice on the wind calling my name …

Ka-thunk …

“Warlock …”

…

Ka-thunk …

“Warlock …”

…

Ka-thunk …

“Warlock …”

…

KA-THUNK!!

***

“Warlock Dowling!” Crowley calls, barging into the attic, footsteps heavy on the worn floorboards. “Are you recording another one of those Clip-Clop thingies again?”

“It’s TikTok, Nanny,” Warlock replies, rolling his eyes, “and no. I’m reading a story for my YouTube channel.”

“Well … you done getting a costume together or wot?” Crowley asks, changing the subject, saving face that he actually understands anything Warlock just said. “Adam and his hooligans are gonna be here in a minute. Aziraphale is gonna have kittens if you’re not ready to go Tricks or Treats!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Warlock says, gathering up his camera. He loves Halloween with a passion, but he’d been eyeing this one journal in Aziraphale’s bookshop for some time now. This video he’s been putting together promises to be epic - the crowning achievement of his burgeoning story channel. Most horror story channels get their material from the Creepypasta Reddit, but he has a unique source of original material … when he can get out to Soho, that is. “I’m coming.” He pulls the lapels of the leather jacket he’s borrowing for the evening together in front to tighten it up. 

It’s slim fit as it used to be Crowley’s from back in the day, but thirteen-year-old Warlock still swims in it. 

Warlock marches to the door under Crowley’s watchful eye. Before he can make his way through, Crowley stops him, slipping a hand underneath the jacket and rescuing an extraneous prop - an antique journal.

“Have you been snoopin’ through Angel’s old manuscripts again?” Crowley asks, wiping the cover clean. “You know how he feels bout that.”

“I know,” Warlock admits sheepishly, “but my audience loves them! I get thousands of hits off his stories! Besides, I put my own twist on them, freshen them up a bit.”

“Do you now?” Crowley asks with an unamused eyebrow notched.

“Why didn't he get them published?” Warlock shifts gears before the lecturing can start. “He’s an amazing writer!”

“He had his reasons,” Crowley mumbles, flipping through the pages. After skimming a passage or two, he puts it down on a pile of similar journals, a shiver sliding down his snakey spine. “Oof! Those things’ll give you nightmares.”

“They should terrify you. He’s murdered you in every single one!”

“Ah, but he does it with love.” Crowley grins wide enough to swallow his whole face. “It’s an honor.” 

[twentiethcenturymoviesandtv]

The Goonies: Facets of Film

A film isn’t ready for shooting the minute the script has been written and the parts have been cast.  

This is pretty obvious: there’s a lot of steps to go through before a project can fully become a film: cameras, lighting, music, sets, special effects, costumes, and tons more that have to go into piecing together a coherent narrative in a way that makes sense using editing and other filmmaking tricks, turning filmed sequences into scenes that tell a story.  This is a usage of the production design of the film: using the elements at the filmmaker’s disposal in order to build the ‘film world’ and make it realistic enough that the audience buys it for a while.

This is where the production team comes in.

The job of the behind-the-scenes crew, everyone from the director to the production assistants, is to create this ‘film world’, in any way they can, using cinematography, costuming, special effects, lighting, and everything else at their disposal to convince the audience for a brief period that what they’re seeing is real.  These elements, when used well, can capture the attention of an audience and turn a ‘good’ film with a solid story and characters and turn it into a cinematic classic, all through the clever use of movie magic.

And, of course, aside from looking good and being believable, these ‘facets of film’ are also used to tell the story.

These elements, cinematography, sets, etc., are used to highlight the plot and characters to the audience in the most efficient way possible.  Although it’s true that some films accomplish this better than others, the best films use these ‘facets of film’ wisely, conveying information to the viewers in ways that make sense, making a film more understandable and enjoyable.

In other words: today, we’re going to talk about what makes The Goonies a movie instead of just a story, and asking ourselves one simple question:

Does The Goonies use its ‘movie magic’ well, or not?

Let’s take a look, starting with something that can seem kind of simple: cinematography.

The Goonies isn’t exactly an ‘arthouse’ film.  By that, I mean that to the average movie-goer, there’s not much in artistic shots: the movie is focused on getting to the point.  But that doesn’t mean it can’t look good while doing it.

Cinematography is a hugely important feature of film, one that is often overlooked.  Audiences tend to underestimate the value that a camera, the ‘eyes’ into the film world, actually has: how the camera ‘looks’, and therefore allows us to look at a scene can be hugely impactful.  Such is the case for The Goonies.

There are a few shots within The Goonies that everyone just remembers.  The first time the kids lay eyes on the pirate ship, their final goal, is a hugely memorable moment, when the camera switches from the open-mouthed, awed expressions of the Goonies to the hugely impressive pirate ship, entirely built as a set for the film.  Other shots, like the reveal of the bone-organ, or the first shot of Sloth from behind, his chained hands held up against the light, stick in people’s minds: or the simple but effective shot moving to focus on Mikey leaning over his porch railing.

These shots are certainly strong and memorable, but they also convey a lot of interesting information to the audience all at once, which is very important.  In one split second, the viewers understand the magnitude of the discovery of One-Eyed Willy’s pirate ship, the terror of the dead body in the freezer, the miraculous recovery of the jewels to save the Goondocks, the relief of Mr. Walsh tearing up the contract and throwing it into the air.

These shots are designed to evoke emotions in their audience, giving us a perfect viewing point into the film’s world, allowing us to ride alongside these characters and experience what they’re experiencing: the fear, the joy, the laughter and the excitement, and the camerawork more than achieves its goal.  The cinematography is effective without being showy, showing off when it needs to, and being simple and small when it fits the tone better.

A big portion of the film’s appearance is for sure in the cinematography, but honestly, there’s not much point to good camerawork if there’s nothing to shoot.  Thankfully, the production design of The Goonies doesn’t disappoint.

Every setting in this film feels solid and lived in, from Mikey’s house to the beat-up old restaurant, to the caves, and, of course, the pirate ship.  Richard Donner and Steven Spielberg (Director and producer of The Goonies, respectively) had, at this point, a bit of experience with the special effects department, and it shows in the film’s final look.  Spielberg’s iconic Indiana Jones style sets and effects are echoed here in the cave sequences, with booby traps, skeletons, and the claustrophobic, dirty caverns convincing the audience effortlessly of their authenticity.

The entire film is a visual delight, with the production design clearly putting forth a lot of effort into making the movie look good, from the pirate ship to the prosthetics on John Matuszak to bring Sloth to life.

Despite the magnificent sets, there isn’t actually much in ‘visual effects’ in the film itself (especially once the octopus scene was cut), besides the prosthetic effects used for Sloth (very impressive in their own right).  There are a few notable scenes: the floor dropping out from underneath Mouth (achieved by attaching a cable to Corey Feldman’s belt and collapsing the set floor underneath) being one of the more impressive of the various Rube Goldberg booby-trap setups throughout the entire film, and the cave collapsing prove to be a few of the most visually impressive effects in the entire film, furthering the story along and making it look believable.

There are other important visual things too: the costumes on the characters (Brand’s exercise wear, Data’s big, baggy trench coat with his inventions underneath, Mikey’s jean-jacket, Mouth’s Purple Rain t-shirt and Chunk’s Hawaiian shirt) all serve as legitimately distinct clues to tell kids apart in clumped together shots, but also works well as character building, coding in different outfits that match personalities, and even the props that kids have with them are hugely telling.  These include Mikey’s inhaler, Mouth’s comb, and, of course, Data’s inventions, all elements that immediately tell the audience something about their personality without having to come out and say it in words.  

In short, the visual storytelling of The Goonies is pretty darn competent.

But the visuals can only do so much.

The score of The Goonies (by Dave Grusin) works perfectly to form the backbone of every scene, from the merry tune that plays over Data’s inventions to the thrilling soundtrack that plays over the Fratellis’ escape at the beginning of the film.  Every scene hits its mark thanks in no small part to the music in the background: reflecting character emotions and putting the audience right in with them, emphasizing huge moments like One-Eyed Willy’s pirate ship and playing up to smaller scenes, like the wishing well.  

It also serves perfectly to underline what’s really important: the performances.

There’s more to a great movie production than sets, special effects and music.  In the end, no matter how impressive, the production of a film doesn’t really amount to anything if the characters aren’t believable.  The movie really rests on the shoulders of the performers: it’s on the actors to try to sell not only their surroundings and story, but the characters themselves, making an audience buy into the fact that they are real, and going through these experiences.

In The Goonies?

The entire cast steps up to the plate.

Sean Astin’s performance as Mikey is 100% wholehearted and earnest, genuine and inspiring.  He is believable as the leader, and as a child with big dreams and big ideas, without being so wide-eyed as to be unrealistic, with a realistic way of talking that siblings around the world recognize.  Jeff Cohen as Chunk is larger than life, over-the-top for every moment of screen time, constantly energetic in both terror and excitement, convincingly portraying a kid who’s scared out of his mind, but sticks it through for the sake of his friends.  Ke Huy Quan easily persuades an audience of Data’s intelligence and charm, quirky behavior lining up with a ‘boy genius gadgeteer’ personality that is tempered with moments of irritation and frustration, as well as a gutsy streak that gets a little overshadowed by the antics of the others around him.  Corey Feldman as Mouth is similarly believable as a snarky kid with too much attitude.  Despite every character’s flaws, each actor manages to make each performance overall likeable and charming.  Thankfully, this doesn’t stop with the kids.

Josh Brolin is believably exhausted and somewhere between childish and grown-up as Mikey’s older brother, Brand, pulling off an even mix that makes him believably grounded, but still able to be swept up in the adventure.  Kerri Green as Andy isn’t given a lot to do, but she’s still entertaining and charming with the material given to her, much like Martha Plimpton as Stef, who delivers her snarky, sarcastic dialogue extremely well.

The heroes aren’t the only ones turning in great performances.  Anne Ramsey is incredibly, and memorably, threatening as Mama Fratelli, and Robert Davi and Joe Pantoliano are entertainingly intimidating as Jake and Francis Fratelli, bickering amongst each other and getting smacked around with utmost believability, despite the ridiculousness of the situation.  John Matuszak is wonderful underneath the prosthetics as Sloth, who, while never a villain, doesn’t officially become a hero until further into the film.  Aside from these, the movie is full of little performances from other players, and everyone fills their part remarkably well.  

Every character in The Goonies comes across exactly as they should: as characters in a kid’s adventure story.  Each performance is perfectly suited to each character: not at all subtle, but energetic and entertaining.  They are kids on a mission, with complete sincerity and consistency in their performances that help the audience to pretend that this is all real.  

These performances are the cincher, the final step, the part that people remember and the element that solidifies this film as a family classic, continuing to entertain people over thirty years later.  

In short?  With people like Richard Donner and Steven Spieberg working behind the scenes, it’s not much of a surprise that The Goonies was an example of efficient filmmaking and visual storytelling.  It’s a fast paced adventure story, a roller-coaster on film designed to take the audience along for the ride without asking any questions, and in that, it greatly succeeds.  

The Goonies seemed destined for greatness from the moment it first released, with all of its ‘facets of filmmaking’ falling into place to create the perfect family adventure film, but, of course, that wasn’t an accident.  Every movie is the result of a lot of hard work from a lot of different people, and The Goonies is no exception.

Thank you guys so much for reading!  Join us next time where we’re going to be discussing the behind-the-scenes story of The Goonies in ‘Facets of Filmmaking’.  I hope to see you there!

[ladyliuwho]

Out of the Woods

An ACOTAR AU set around the same time as ACOFAS. Azriel is in the rainbow district looking for a solstice present for Feyre. He runs into an interesting girl who introduces him to her musical theater friends. Az finds himself coming back to them again and again in his free time. With them, something unlocks inside of him that lets him truly be himself. In ways that he didn’t know that he could be.

Chapter 1

Azriel was walking the streets of the rainbow by himself.  If he didn’t need to find a solstice present for Feyre, he probably wouldn’t be here at all. While the rainbow was beautiful, it was too much for him on his own. Too loud, too bright. Not enough shadows to hide in, though that didn’t stop him from finding them. He was thinking about going home when he bumped into her.

“Excuse me. I’m sorry.” He said politely to the female he had run into. They both knelt down to pick up the spilled contents of her bag. It was mostly loose sheets of paper.

“No, it was definitely my fault. My friends are always telling me I need to pay more attention. I really should listen to them more.” She was rambling. Az suspected that she could’ve gone on forever if she hadn’t looked up at him. He thought maybe she was going to go star-struck. He was the High Lord of Night’s shadowsinger after all. They’d all seen him fight during the attack on the city. Instead, she simply said, “nice wings,” and stuffed the last of her papers back into her bag. “Can I get you a drink, as an apology for bumping into you? Or even a thank you for helping me with my stuff?”

Az thought about it for a second then shrugged his shoulders, “Sure.” It wasn’t like he had anything important to do today. It would be a few days before he would hear back from his contact in the Illyrian camps. He could spare a few moments to indulge this odd female. He studied her more closely as he followed her down the streets. Her outfit was surprisingly simple for someone in the rainbow. A plain blue sweater and black leggings under a thick grey overcoat. Her light brown hair was pulled back in a messy braid. He could see her ears were red from the cold. She led him to a small café on the corner of a street.

A wave of warmth and music greeted them as she opened the door. A tall male with long blonde hair tied back at the nape of his neck called to her, “Ava returns!” She gave him a mocked bow. The male turned back to the music. Az recognized the song as one from a musical Feyre had dragged them to a few weeks ago. Something about a revolution in the human world.

Ava pointed him to a small table with two chairs in the middle of the room. He took the seat that gave him the best view of the group. A round woman came to take their order. Az ordered tea while the girl ordered molten chocolate. Ava shrugged out of her coat leaving it to rest on the back of her chair.

“So, what is the High Lord’s shadowsinger doing in the middle of the rainbow?” Ava finally asked.

“You know who I am?” Azriel wasn’t sure why he was surprised. Everyone knew who the inner circle was. If they hadn’t before the attack a few months ago, they definitely did now.

Ava scoffed, “Everyone in this room knows who you are. You’re just lucky to be surrounded by the few people in Velaris who don’t fall on their knees in thanks whenever we see a member of the court.”

“Now, now Ava, you make us sound ungrateful.” The blonde male had come to stand behind Ava as she spoke.

“No, just that we believe in treating him like any other person off of the street.” She leaned back in her chair. “Unless you have an objection to that?” The tone in her voice made it sound more like a challenge than a question.

He didn’t, he missed the days when the people of Velaris treated him like any other citizen. Now he couldn’t go to any shop or restaurant without the proprietors insisting that he not pay for their goods. “The songs you are singing, they sound familiar, do you perform at one of the theaters?” He asked.

Ava and the blonde male howled with laughter, “Cauldron no!” Ava finally barked out. “Just a couple of aspiring actors not quite good enough to take the stage.”

The round woman came back with their drinks. “And yet you insist on bringing your noise to my café.”

“You know you would miss us if we were gone!”

“Like an animal misses a thorn in its paw.” The two friends began laughing again, Azriel felt a smile tugging on his lips.

The blonde male turned to Ava, “We’re going to head to the theater, are you going to come with us?”

She looked at Azriel, “When I am done here.” We watched in silence as her friends filed out of the café.

“I thought you didn’t perform in theaters.” He said to her.

“We don’t,” Azriel was now thoroughly confused, “There is a private theater that was abandoned after the attack. We use it to rehearse or just have fun.” Ava took a sip of her drink. “You still haven’t told me why you’re in the rainbow.”

“Do I have to have a reason? Maybe I was just enjoying the scenery.” He bit back.

Ava chuckled, “If you had any of the other members of the court with you, maybe I’d believe you. No one ever sees you out here without the High Lady or her sister.”

Az couldn’t argue with that. He’d just been thinking that same thought before he’d stumbled upon this interesting character.

With her drink finished, Ava stood and dropped some money on the table. “Well, it was nice bumping into you.” She said with a wink as she pulled on her coat.

Azriel watched as she made her way to the door. He wasn’t sure what made him say it, but he blurted out, “Can I come with you? To see your theater, I mean.”

Ava shrugged, “Everyone is welcome. I’ll warn you it’s just a bunch of theater nobodies without a lick of talent between them. I’m not responsible for any damages.” With that, she turned and walked away from Azriel, not even pausing to see if he was behind her.

She walked quicker than she had when she was leading him to the café. They passed galleries and dance studios until they came across some of the more scarred streets of the rainbow. They finally stopped in front of a building that was lucky to still be standing. The white stucco hadn’t been cleaned, it still held the stains of the fires that had licked eagerly up the wall. The door was intact but blacked like it had been roasted over a fire for too long. Ava pushed it gently aside. When Azriel passed by it he noticed that it might very well fall off. One of the hinges was completely gone, the other looked like it was barely anchored to the wall.

They walked into the entry room, it was very simple compared to the other theaters in Velaris. The fire hadn’t breached the door, so the furnishings were dusty but in good condition. The velvet curtains separating us from the theater were parted enough that Az could see a sliver of what he thought might be sunlight. His suspicion was confirmed when Ava pushed the curtains aside, revealing that the roof of the theater had collapsed onto the seats.

He realized the auditorium was empty, “Aren’t your friends supposed to be here?”

Ava had begun walking down the main aisle to the stage. “Oh, they probably stopped at a shop on the way here. We always have an eye out for a costume piece or prop.”

As they got closer to the stage, Az surveyed the damage. Most of the debris had stayed in the middle of the auditorium, leaving the stage and front row mostly untouched. He stopped to study a slab of the ceiling, it had been some kind mural. What was left of a winged baby playing the harp was the sign of what the painting might be.

“What happened here?” He mentally smacked himself for asking. Of course, he knew what happened here.

“Same thing as everywhere else. One of the monsters crashed through the roof. That’s where most of the damage stops. One of the buildings next door caught fire, the flames had already started to jump over here when they finally put it out.” Ava was sitting on the stage looking wistfully on the remains. “It was an older couple that owned this. The wife was killed in the attack and the husband just doesn’t have the funds to fix it. But he also doesn’t have the heart to sell it either.”

“How did you guys end up coming here?”

“We used to come here to watch the shows put on by a small troupe. Now we come here to practice or just have fun. We tried to pay the owner at first but, he refused. He said that he was glad we could find joy in a place that had become so heartless to him.” She pulled her legs up and rested her chin on her knees. “When he dies, his children will probably sell it to someone who has the money to tear it down.”

“And then where will you go?”

She thought awhile before answering, “Hopefully by then we will all have gotten our big break. Jax has been working on a screenplay so, who knows, maybe it’ll be what we need to take us all out of here.”

It was odd for Azriel to think of Velaris being a place of equal opportunity. It was called the City of Dreams after all. It hadn’t occurred to him that there were still people who wouldn’t have their dreams realized no matter how hard they worked at them.

He noticed Ava was studying him, waiting for him to say something else. “How long have you been doing this?”

“I’ve only been acting for a few years. My main focus used to be singing. The others have been at it for much longer.” Voices drifted from behind the velvet curtains.

Azriel shook his head, it was like this place had put him in a trance. The sky outside had started to change with the setting sun. He said as much to Ava as he stood and offered her a hand.

She took it to stand but, didn’t immediately let go of it. “You’re welcome to come back if you’d like. I know the others would love an excuse to put together a performance.”

“I’ll think about it.” And with that Azriel took flight and flew through the hole in the ceiling. He looked down in time to see Ava’s friends from the café pass through the curtains. One of them was starring at him with an open mouth. He chuckled to himself. At least that still got a reaction.

 A/N  This is based on a random thought I had one day. I was a really shy kid and never really let anyone see who I was. And in some ways, I still am. But when I took theater classes, I became a completely different person. I thought it’d be fun to give Azriel something similar. Also, this is my first attempt at fanfic so, let me know what you think, and if you want this story continued.

[trashinaglass-archive]

Movie Star

Y/n is sick of Tom thinking he’s the shit

Request: Hi can I request kinda an angsty imagine kinda based on when Tom said was talking about his dad and acting like a “movie star”, and basically he says something really pretentious to the reader about how important he is and he is taking the fame to his head, and she gets upset and he realizes he messed up. Thank you loads :)

A/n: I’m here for the angst. I hope it’s good bc this is a good concept

Tom was the best boyfriend you could’ve ever asked for. Kind, loving, understanding, and grounded- the latter being the most important to you. You felt the responsibility of keeping him grounded laid on you; you were the one he cared about most. The opinion he cared about the most.

You didn’t really worry with a few comments he made- he was hardworking in a career that didn’t allow him much privacy. Of course he’d get angry from time to time, act like an asshole every now and then, but it was when it turned from mean comments toward others to praiseful comments toward himself than you began to get really worried about him.

“I just want a girlfriend. I’m tired of being single,” Sam groaned as you and the brothers were sat in a bar.

“Look, bro- all we need is for someone to recognize me, and you’re golden,” Tom suggested.

You raised an eyebrow at the comment, “or you can be yourself and find a girl that likes you for who you are.”

“I’m just saying, I’m kind of a big deal,” he said, shrugging his shoulders making you roll your eyes.

“Calm down, movie star,” you told him, the word rolling off your tongue with disgust. Tom immediately shut down, sipping his beer quietly as you continued to talk to Sam.

Hearing the words come out of his mouth pissed you off endlessly. You wanted nothing more than for him to create something he’s proud of, to feel proud of himself, but you needed him to be humble about it as well. You were sure that he had brought himself back, no ridiculous comments to follow for a while, but lo and behold, amidst the recent film reviews, he found himself excited again.

You were currently driving home after a long meeting in London, answering the phone when Tom called.

“Hey, gorg,” you answered.

“Hey- how long are you going to be before you get back?” He asked, sounding excited about something.

“Um,” you said softly, glancing at the clock. “25 maybe? If traffic stays good. What’s up?”

“I was out today, shopping with Harrison and Tuwaine, and I saw something that I think you’ll really love,” he told you.

You let out a sigh hearing his words. “Tom, as much as I love you and your gifts, it’s getting to be a bit much,” you tried to break it to him gently. He’d ‘been out shopping and gotten something for you’ just about every day for a week and a half now. Maybe it would be okay if they were simple five dollar gifts, but they cost hundreds, sometimes thousands of dollars. You never were the one to tell people how they should spend their money, but it was getting to be crazy.

“What do you mean?”

“Tom, you’re spending way to much money on gifts for me. I don’t need a new piece of jewelry every day,” you explained to him. “I appreciate that you think of me like that, but don’t waste your money on these gifts for me when you could use it for so many other things.”

“You’re not even going to ask what it is?” He replied, his voice sounding hurt or angry.

“No because I’m scared of what you’d tell me. For all I know it’ll be £10,000, and I can’t even fathom you spending that on me.” The line went quiet as the words came out of your mouth. The silence making your heart sink. “Tom, tell me you didn’t spend ten grand on a piece of jewelry.”

More silence, making your heart sink even further. “No,” he said quietly, causing your suspicion rise.

“How much did it cost?” You asked him, wanting to know the final verdict.

“Love, it’s not the price that matters,” he tried to reason.

“No, tell me, Tom. Stop fucking stalling.”

He let out a breath, knowing you were going to be upset, “thirty-five.”

“Grand?” You asked for confirmation, your jaw dropping. Tom let out a quiet ‘mhm’ to answer that your fear was indeed correct. “Thomas Stanley-“

“Y/n, it’s fine! I wouldn’t be buying you things if I couldn’t afford it,” he defended himself. Part of him wanted to be mad that you weren’t jumping for joy, but the other part of him just wanted you to understand it isn’t hurting him financially. “I’m fucking Spider-Man- I get paid more in a day than normal people get in an entire year. I have so much money, I could buy you the entire city if you wanted it. Have you seen the expensive fucking suits I’ve been wearing? The watches? I’m not broke- buying that £35,000 bracelet was nothing to me. I’m probably the richest person in Kingston right now, you ought to be happy about that.”

You bit your lip, not believing what he’d actually said. “No one gives a shit how much money you make, movie star. I sure as hell don’t, fucking dick.” You could hear Tom yell out as you hung up the phone, turning it off and throwing it in the floorboard of your car. You pulled the car off the side of the road, placing your head on the steering wheel and letting out a good, long cry.

You don’t know what happened to your sweet boyfriend, the one that wasn’t obsessed with money, but you wanted him back dearly. You weren’t sure what was going on in Tom’s thick skull, but you were certain. If he couldn’t get his act together, you weren’t going to stick around for it. You didn’t sign up for any of that.

Once your eyes dried, you started the car again and continued on your route home- going to your place rather than Tom’s like you two had originally planned. Sleeping and being by yourself was all you wanted at the moment.

When you woke up, you found yourself in your cold living room early in the morning. You decided to check your mailbox since you didn’t yesterday, finding a particularly heavy envelope, and hurried inside to open it.

Inside lay the bracelet, a receipt, and a note from Tom. It was a pretty bracelet, you had to admit. With diamonds surrounding the outside of it. It definitely was your taste in jewelry, but not £35k worth.

I wanted to say this all in person, but knowing you, I probably won’t see you in person for a while. I’m sorry for what I said. I’m sorry for being a dick. I’m sorry for being a ‘movie star’ and properly acting like one. I don’t mean to be obsessed with how much I get paid. I plan on working to keep myself grounded. I feel like you constantly do so much for me, I need you to know just how much I love you for it. I guess buying gifts is my love language, but you’re right. I’ll try to do better on what I get you and how much I spend.

As you’ve probably seen, I left the receipt in this envelope along with the bracelet. Keep it if you like, but I figure you’d want to return it. Do whatever you want with the money, you’re obviously the more responsible one and know how to handle it. I love you so much, y/n. I would trade all the money in the world for you to be happy. Nothing compares to what I feel when I see you smile, and I hope I didn’t just fuck up everything we have. Call me when you’re ready- and preferably not angry with me anymore :)

You bit your lip, looking at the bracelet and receipt. You almost didn’t even want to touch the thing, appalled by how expensive it was. Sure you liked pretty things every now and then, but you were a simple person and a bracelet that costs more than your flat and your car combined just didn’t belong on your wrist.

You put the receipt and the bracelet back in the envelope, slipping it in your purse and heading out the door.

. . .

“Y/n!” Tom exclaimed as he saw you walk through the front door. He didn’t expect to see you today, but he was more than excited by your presence. Without a word, you handed him a stack of papers. “What are these?” He asked, looking at them confused.

“Thank you letters for your generous donations- £7,000 to five different charities,” you told him. “I don’t care if you want to spend your money, but just keep in mind that there are people out there that aren’t as fortunate as you that can use that money for more productive reasons than looking pretty.

“Tom, I love you, and I hate to break it to you, but you are only special to so many people. Myself, your family, your fans, but that’s it. No cop thinks you’re special, no doctor or nurse thinks you’re special, no lawyer or judge thinks you’re special. That room full of actors at the Oscars could care less who you are because you aren’t them. I don’t give a shit how talented or hot or rich you are because that’s all superficial. Years from now, you won’t have that. But you will always have your heart. Don’t let it become corrupt because you can’t see past the pretty things.”

Tom nodded as you spoke, taking in every word like his life depended on it- which, to him, it probably did. It sucked having to be the person to say such harsh words to Tom, but it had to be done. The thought of losing your sweet boy to a fame driven and egotistical world was the biggest fear you’d ever felt.

“I don’t know what else to say other than I’m sorry,” he said softly.

“How about ‘I won’t act like vain, dickhole movie star again’? Or ‘I understand that I’m not the shit’? ‘I’m just as special as my ‘broke, normal’ girlfriend’?” You offered. Tom visibly sucked a breath, his jaw clinching. “You realize I’m that person you called out? That ‘normal person’ that makes in a year what you make in a single day? I’ve never been so insulted, and it was from my own boyfriend’s mouth that I had to hear that from. I’m sorry I’m not cool enough to be an actor and play pretend in a Spider-Man costume, but I can assure you that even though I make less than a quarter of what you make, I am still on your level. My broke ass is just as important as your arrogant, rich one. And I need you to pull that stick out of your ass so you can see who you’re dealing with because you are not going to belittle me like that again.”

“I didn’t mean to,” he whispered, tears pooling in his eyes. He didn’t realize just how severe the situation was; he was so concerned about himself, he didn’t even realize he was insulting the love of his life. He could hear the hurt behind the anger in your voice, and it broke his heart knowing he was the cause of it. “I’m such an asshole,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you, running through his hair.

“Yeah you are,” you said with a humorless laugh, turning to walk away.

“Are you breaking up with me?” He asked, his voice pitiful.

“No,” you looked at him again. “But you need to take some time to realize some things, and I need some time to cool off. We have dinner plans with your parents tomorrow- fix your shit before then.” You turned again, walking out of his flat. 

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[so-writing]

Snow 9 - Ivar / Hvitserk x Reader

It was much easier to pretend with Ivar when you knew there was an end in sight. The next several nights, you happily rode him to orgasm and allowed him to do things to your body you never would have in the past. As much as you would deny it later, you had no issue taking advantage of the attractive young king.

“You’re finally starting to fall for me aren’t you,” he ran his hand through your hair, “I wasn’t sure you would.” 

He pulled himself out of the bed and sat on the edge, you noted the toned muscles in his back and ran your fingernails over his shoulder.

“I wasn’t sure either. I didn’t think I’d ever get over Hvitserk. If I’m honest, I’m probably not entirely over it but I’m trying. I’m trying for you.”

“I know, and I understand. He’s coming home tomorrow though.” 

Ivar used his crutches to stand himself up and make his way over to the fire. 

“He’s coming home and he’s getting married to someone else. He’s moving on and we need to as well. I want you to stop taking those herbs you’ve been taking. I’m not mad you have, I understand why, but I’d like it if you stopped. I want us to have a baby.”

It wasn’t a surprise, you knew that was ultimately what he wanted, but to finally have the conversation shook you. You never wanted children in the first place, but especially not with Ivar.

“Do you want that?” 

There was a hesitation in his voice and he didn’t turn away from the hot flames as he waited for my answer.

Of course I don’t want that. My attraction to you is skin deep, you tyrant. You’ve ripped me from the love of my life and cruelly dangled him in front of me this entire time, pulling him away and pushing him close to me for your own amusement and convenience. You may have given me a crown of gold and a position of power, but you’ve taken everything else.

“I’m scared, but I think I do.”

I want to see the end of you, and I want to be the one to do it.

“Really?!” 

Ivar rushed back to the bed as fast as he was capable and threw his arms around you. You tried to hug him with the same intensity but couldn’t quite get there and he noticed.

“You’re really sure? You don’t seem as excited as I am.”

“Well, my love, I told you I was scared. Being pregnant and giving birth is a big deal and I would be lying if it didn’t scare me. Think of all the risks that come with childbirth. Myself or the baby could-”

“Stop there,” he interrupted, “we’re not even going to think about that right now. Let’s just be happy that we’re going to bring an heir to Kattegat. I will have a child, an heir to my throne.”

Ivar looked like he was going to cry out of sheer joy. It was the first time I’d ever seen a smile on his face that wasn’t there because he’d just done something evil to someone, it was genuine.

The sound of the horns signaling boats entering the harbor broke us out of our moment. 

“Is that the raiding party? They can’t be back already. Get dressed, my queen, we need to get down to the docks.”

The cold wind was biting through your thick furs as you stood with your husband and as many people of Kattegat that could drag themselves out of bed in the middle of the night. As soon as the boats drifted out of the black and into the firelight, you recognized his silhouette. His face was still masked in darkness but there was no mistaking him, Hvitserk had returned to Kattegat. 

He returned to Kattegat just to be sent away again, only this time he would be taking his new wife with him.

“Brother,” Ivar dropped your hand and stepped toward Hvitserk as he jumped off the boat, “welcome home!”

The two men embraced and spoke about the raid as they walked quietly through the group of people toward the main hall. Hvitserk hadn’t looked in your direction once and you began to fear the worst. It was assumed that he had no idea about Brenna while he was out raiding but maybe Ivar sent him word in secret.

While the rest of the raiders stayed down by the docks talking with the public and greeting their families, Ivar and Hvitserk locked themselves in a meeting room off the great hall. Aslaug, Brenna, myself and a few other people close to Ivar waited outside. 

“Everyone,” Ivar opened the door an eternity later, “please come in.”

Hvitserk was seated at a long table with his arms crossed and his eyes looking down at its surface. The group joined him, with the exception of Ivar who remained standing, and the meeting began.

“Everyone is now aware of what is going to happen, but I don’t believe we’ve formally spoken about it. We will do that now.”

You tried to keep your hands in your lap under the table to avoid anyone seeing how badly they were shaking. It had been several weeks since you’d seen Hvitserk and since then you’d done things with Ivar that would break his heart. Maybe Ivar had told him and that is why he refused to look at you now. 

Would he do that? Despite everything, you believed he truly loved his older brother and Hvitserk and Ivar always had the strongest connection of all Ragnar’s sons. He did make you marry him with the knowledge that you were in love with Hvitserk, so it’s not out of the question that he would expose your intimate moments to upset him.

Seeing him again hit you hard. You had become so wrapped up in Ivar and your duties as his queen that you began to let Hvitserk fall aside. His bright eyes, kind heart, and overall sensational presence had come rushing back into your life and you couldn’t stop the feelings from flooding back.

“Hvitserk will marry the princess Brenna, and go with her to Manafell. My brother and I have already made our alliance official. Hvitserk and his soon to be will travel to Manafell and marry there, then we will leave on our first raid.”

“Where will you go, my king?” 

You made sure you didn’t look at Hvitserk while you asked the question. It probably wasn’t possible for your heart to break any further but you weren’t going to test the waters.

“We’re going to take Hedeby.”

Hedeby was Lagertha’s home. It wasn’t enough that he had to kill her, Ivar just had to take control of her settlement too.

“If I may speak,” Brenna’s eyes were on mine, “this is a good plan. Hedeby has ports comparable to Kattegat, if we take the city, we will be unstoppable.” 

She was a better actor than you could ever attempt to be. You knew she hated Ivar, for the way he was, for his hand in Lagertha’s death, but it was so simple for her to turn on the charm. She turned her distaste for him into a kindness and used it against him, something you’d always tried to do, but often struggled.

“Ah, Hvitserk, we’ve made a good choice in choosing your wife,” Ivar’s eyes on yours, “she will serve you well.” 

“Yes,” he spoke for the first time and your stomach did a flip, “she will be a wonderful wife. I have a favor to ask though, brother.”

“What is it, Hvitserk?” 

“I would like to have a conversation with your queen. If you are willing to spare us just a few minutes, I would be very grateful. It is important.”

“Of course,” Ivar’s smile slipped slightly but otherwise he gave no reaction, “she has been a dear friend of yours for many years and you are about to leave us permanently. Come, everyone, let’s reconvene in the great hall.” 

The room slowly emptied out and he stayed completely still and silent until Ivar shot the door behind him, giving you a look before he left. Don’t do anything stupid.

“So you’ve come to enjoy your time with Ivar? I’m glad you’re happy.

“I’m not happy. I am miserable here without you, with him.”

“That’s not what he tells me. He tells me you spend your nights wrapped up in each other, making the next heir to Kattegat.”

“We’re not making anything. I’ve been taking the herbs, I will never have his child.”

“Why are you giving yourself to him,” anger rose in his voice as he slid the chair back and stood, “I return home to find myself betrothed to a stranger and my brother telling me that you love him. What am I supposed to do?”

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed and head hung in defeat. The both of you had fought so hard to keep your relationship alive despite the situation but it wasn’t enough. Ivar had broken Hvitserk and eventually he would break you too. 

“I have never in my life told him I loved him. I have called him love, to keep up appearances but I do not love him. I give myself to him because if I don’t, he will replace me and then I will have no power. I will be disposable. If I don’t submit, I will lose you forever. This crown at least gives me some small sliver of control.”

“You’re going to lose me forever anyway, I’m being married off.”

“Do you think we’re being listened to, Hvitserk?”

“Probably,” he shrugged, “why does it matter now? You’ve already outed yourself and if Ivar is listening, you will lose that last bit of control you have.” 

“In that case,” you stood and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and putting your lips to his ear, “I need you to wrap your arms around me, pretend this is just a hug and listen.”

tagged: @lol-haha-joke @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @blonddnamedhandz

[quotesforintellectuals]

Quotes and excerpts taken from (Breon Mitchell’s translation of) Franz Kafka’s The Trial: 

He had always been inclined to take things easily, to believe in the worst only when the worst happened, to take no care for the morrow even when the outlook was threatening. But that struck him as not being the right policy here...

...a long, apparently significant, yet incomprehensible look.

A few words with a man on my own level of intelligence would make everything far clearer than hours of talk with these two. 

If the intellectual poverty of the warders were not so manifest, he might almost assume that they...

You should be far more reticent, nearly eveything you have just said could have been implied in your behavior with the help foa word here and there, and in any case does not redound particularly to your credit.

A phonograph which had seen long service in a better quarter of the town began stridently to murder a tune.

He now regretted his plan, which at first had seemed so practical. 

...for it is only a trial if I recognize it as such. 

It was not easy for me to remain clam. I succeeded, however, and...

...in the end one gets quite used to it. By the time you’ve come back once or twice you’ll hardly notice how oppressive it is here. 

I don’t understand, Fraulein, why you should tell this gentleman all our intimate secrets, or rather thrust them on him, for he doesn’t want to hear them at all. Just look at him, he’s obviously much too busy with his own thoughts. 

So Franz’s tale of a sweetheart waiting for him was simply a lie, venial enough, designed merely to procure more sympathy for him.

His uncle disturbed him by standing beside him round-eyed and biting his lips nervously; he was not actually listening, but the appearance of listening was disturbing enough in itself.

...adduce grounds for the condemnation or approval. 

Admonitions as useless as they were wearisome...

Their remoteness kept the officials from being in touch with the populace; for the average case they were excellently equipped, such a case proceeded almost mechanically and only needed a push now and then; yet confronted with quite simple cases, or particularly difficult cases, they were often utterly at a loss, they did not have any right understanding of human relations, since they were confined day and night to the workings of their judicial system, whereas in such cases a knowledge of human nature itself was indispensable. 

One must lie low, no matter how much it went against the grain, and try to understand that this great organization remained, so to speak, in a state of delicate balance, and that if someone took it upon himself to alter the dispoisition of things around him, he ran the risk of losing his footing and falling to destruction, which the organization would simply right itself by some compensating reaction in another part of its machinery -- since everything interlocked -- and remained unchanged, unless, indeed, which was very probable, it became still more rigid, more vigilant, severer, and more ruthless.  

The right tactics were to avoid letting one’s thoughts stray to one’s own possible shortcomings, and to cling as firmly as one could to the thought of one’s advantage. 

Neither her youth nor her deformity had saved her from being prematurely debauched. 

“Justice must stand quite still, or else the scales will saver and a just verdict will become impossible.” 

..they can be believed, but they cannot be proved. 

...people are too tired and distracted to think and so they take refuge in superstition. 

When I stood alone I did nothing at all, yet it hardly bothered me; after acquiring a lawyer, on the other hand, I felt that the stage was set for something to happen, I waited with unceasing and growing expectancy for your intervention, and you did nothing whatever.

His face provided no clue, searchingly as K. scrutinized it. One could almost suppose that he was deliberately assuming a blank expression, while waiting for the effect of his words. But he was obviously putting too favorable an interpretation on K.’s silence when he went on to say...

...there’s no lack of wretched creatures even in this very neighborhood, ready to lfing themselves on any crumb I choose to throw them. 

...in these matters opinions differ so much that the confusion is impenetrable. 

“But I not guilty,” said K.; “it’s a mistake. And, if it comes to that, hwo can any man be called guilty? We are all simply men here, one as much as the other.” “That is true,” said the priest, “but that’s how all guilty men talk.” 

The follow excerpt is from the “Postscript to the First Edition" (1925) written by Kafka’s friend and literary executor, Max Brod: 

I wrested from Kafka nearly everything he published either by persuasion or by guile. This is not inconsistent with the fact that he frequently, during long periods of his life, experienced great happiness in writing, although he never dignified it by any other name than "scribbling." Anyone who was ever privileged to hear him read his own prose out loud to a small circle of intimates with an intoxicating fervor and a rhythmic verve beyond any actor's power, was made directly aware of the genuine irrepressible joy in creation and of the passion behind his work. If he nevertheless repudiated it, this was firstly because certain unhappy experiences had driven him in the direction of a kind of self-sabotage and therefore also toward nihilism as far as his own work was concerned; but also independently of that because, admittedly without ever saying so, he applied the highest religious standard to his art; and since this was wrung from manifold doubts and difficulties, that standard was too high. It was probably immaterial to him that his work might nevertheless greatly help many others who were striving after faith, nature, and wholeness of soul; for in his inexorable search for his own salvation, his first need was to counsel, not others, but himself. 

[the-jam-to-the-unicorn]

“Never have I ever” with Ellen

Summary: Dan, Emma, Luke and Josh are on “Ellen” and Ellen decides to play a round of “Never have I ever”.

Rated: No smut, but slight adult language.

Note: Dan Stevens, Emma Watson, Luke Evans, Josh Gad, Le Duo, mentioning of Emma Thompson and Ida Gad, this is all my fantasy and nothing of this probably happened

Warnings: none

Words: 3072

Author note: Requested by anon. This was fun to write. :-D Enjoy everyone! Feedback is very welcome. :-) Also, English isn’t my first language and I have no beta at the moment, so please excuse mistakes.

Request: Could you write something with the cast of BatB or just LeDuo (whatever you like more). The cast is on “Ellen” to promote their upcoming movie or movies (BatB or something else) and they play “Never have I ever” (a very sexy edition) with Josh being a normal kind of naughty/sexy and Luke a bit (very much more) naughty/sexy.      

“So, here are my next guests. One of them is a magical young woman. One of the guys ruined Christmas for everyone. The second guy is the most charming snowman of all time. And the last one’s name is spelled L – U – K – E – I believe there is another E. Please welcome: Emma Watson, Dan Stevens, Josh Gad and Luke Evans!”

After Ellen’s announcement the crowd went wild and everyone clapped and screamed, when the four actors came waving on stage. “Pumpin Blood” was playing and Luke and Josh started dancing, Emma and Dan laughing, before Emma joined. The crowd started to clap louder. All four walked to Ellen, hugged and kissed her on the cheeks and waved another time to the audience, before they sat down: Next to Josh was Luke, then Emma and at the end Dan.

“Welcome to my show!”, Ellen greeted them and the audience went silent.

“Thanks you for having us!”, Josh replied.

“So great to be back.”, Luke added and Dan and Emma nodded.

“Absolutely. I’m so happy we got all four of you for this show, to promote your new movies. Luke and Josh did a movie…”, Ellen explained and Luke and Josh grinned at each other and nodded, “Emma has a new movie. Dan has a new movie. You’re all pretty busy since Beauty and the Beast.”

“Thank God.”, Dan answered and everyone laughed. “Thankfully we’re still getting job offers.”

“Well, Beauty and the Beast was a huge success.”, Ellen said. “How has your life changed?”

The four looked at each other and Emma started talking.

“Well, personally, there are a lot of young girls who see me and my character now as a role model. And that’s such a wonderful thing, if you ask me. Because first of all, Belle is such an awesome woman and princess, you should totally take as role model. She was mine, when I was young. She is brave, she is clever, she stays true to herself, she loves books, she is creative, she stands her ground and has opinions. And to play such an amazing character, bringing her to life, was just the most wonderful experience. And people, mostly girls or young woman, now come to me and tell me, what an inspiration I’ve been with this role and I think, that’s beautiful.”

The audience clapped and the guys smiled at Emma.

“Well, for me, it wasn’t such a change, because I played the beast and 99% of the film you don’t even see my real, not so beastly face. But, when people recognize me, they always tell me, how much this movie means to them and how awesome it was and how much it changed their life. So, in the end, I think, we created something that has the same magical power the animated movie had too.”

The audience clapped again.

“But the audience will always remember you as the one, who ruined Christmas.”, Ellen said and everyone laughed and Dan nodded.

“I’m afraid so. Yeah. It’s actually really funny because even after all these years, people are still coming to me and are like You do realize, you ruined my Christmas with your death? How could you die?! So, yeah. Downton will haunt me until the very end.”

“You better not die at Christmas.”, Josh said and they all laughed.

“I can see the headline: Actor Dan Stevens died – again, on Christmas, ruining it for everyone.”, Luke added and there was more laughter.

“Luke, Josh, how has your life changed?”

“First of all…”, Josh started and looked at Luke “I met one of my best friends and one of the most awesome people on this earth.”, and Josh grabbed Luke’s hand and smiled at him “Not to forget, I met other wonderful people, like Emma or Dan. I did a musical film and I had another chance to create a Disney character, which is, for me, a really, truly magical experience and moment. Because I love Disney. My kids love Disney. And to create this magic, Dan mentioned, is just…so special. You take this magic and this power with you after the movie and you see the world in a more magical and special way. But the thing, that changed probably the most, is, that I’m now some kind of special member of the Disney family?! Because I played two different characters. And now, Disney sends me invitations do all the premieres and Disney parties and Disney stuff. I even get free tickets all the time when I go to Disneyland for me and my family.”

“I’m so jealous right now.”, Emma said and there was laughter. “I played the princess, I never get invitations.”

“Here is the thing: I’m Olaf.”, Josh deadpanned.

“Luke, what about you?”

“Well…everyone said all the important things. We created a magical movie and created characters, who are important. And, I was lucky too, to meet one the most charming and funniest guys ever, who became my best friend.”, Luke explained and Josh rested his head on Luke’s shoulder.

The audience “aww”ed and Luke stopped for a second and put his head on Josh’s head.

“I’m just going to continue like this. Uhm…another thing, that probably changed, is the fact, that, with Beauty and the Beast, I had the chance to try a bit comedy acting, which is something I wanted to try for a very long time. And after Beauty and the Beast, I think, it got easier for me, to audition for comedy roles and maybe it also helped me to get such roles?! But, it’s just something, a film, I will always love and remember with a lot of happy and lovely memories and a project I will always keep close to my heart and it’s probably my favourite project ever?! Definitely Top 3.”

The audience cheered and Luke and Josh raised their heads and the cast smiled.

“Before we are going to talk about your upcoming movies, I thought it would be fun, if we play a little game.”, Ellen started and handed them signs.

“We should be scared, shouldn’t we?!”, Josh asked and everyone looked at their signs.

“Maybe. We are going to play: Never have I ever. The rules are simple: I’m going to ask you questions and you have to answer, if you have or if you haven’t. You have to say the truth. Everyone’s ready?!”

The cast nodded and Ellen took her notecards.

“Okay. Here is the first questions. Never have I ever stolen something from a movie set.”

The cast hesitated and looked at each other. Luke was the first one, who answered with I have, Emma and Josh following with I have and Emma biting her lip. Dan slowly showed the I have side too.

“I’m not sure, if it was stealing.”, he said.

“Okay. Should I ask what?”

“I may…have…taken…things from The Hobbit, The Musketeers and Beauty and the Beast.”

“Yeah…Beauty and the Beast.”, Dan said and nodded. “But they said, we can keep something as a reminder or something. So…I’m not sure if it is stealing. And Downton.”

“I kept stuff from Harry Potter.”

“Well, not really from a movie set, besides Beauty and the Beast, but from The Book of Mormon.”

“Alright. Never have I ever slept naked.”

Luke turned his sign within a second at I have, the other one’s I have never. Luke grinned and Ellen nodded.

“We all want to hear the story Luke.”

Luke laughed.

“It’s not really a story because I sleep naked every night.”

Some people from the audience screamed with joy.

“I mean, I…maybe..I just put some knickers on, you know, but…that’s it?!”

Ellen nodded and Emma laughed next to Luke.

“I just…don’t like…clothes…in bed.”, he laughed and turned a bit red.

Ellen continued nodding.

“And suddenly, I really want to do a sleepover with you.”, she finally said and everyone laughed, Luke looking down with a red face. “Okay, next question. This is getting interesting. Never have I ever sexted or had telephone sex.”

Dan turned his sign really quick to I have never and Josh to I have, Luke slowly to I have and Emma looked down and tried not to laugh.

“Can me move one?!”, she asked and looked up.

“Absolutely not.”, Ellen said and laughed.

Slowly Emma turned her sign to I have. Dan looked at the signs and laughed.

“I have to ask. What did you do?”

“Well…I did sexting…”, Josh started and Emma nodded. “Luke?”

Luke bit his lip and smiled.

“Can we just move to the next question?!”, he asked and the audience laughed.

Emma looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“Both?! Really?!”

“Here is the thing…sometimes…you…you have…to…hear…the…voice.”, he said and turned more and more red with each word.

“But isn’t it uncomfortable?!”, Dan asked and looked confused at the others. “I mean…in one hand you hold your phone and you try to text or talk and with the other…”

“You do stuff.”, Josh added.

“Yeah. I could never do sexting. I always need both hands to text a message.”, Dan finished.

Ellen nodded.

“Well, you don’t really need to hold your phone with your hands, but…I see your point. Alright, next question: Never have I ever kissed one of my cast members from Beauty and the Beast off screen.”

Luke and Josh looked at each other, grinned at turned I have, Emma showed this too and Dan showed I have never. They all looked looked surprised at each other.

“What?”, Emma asked.

“Who?”, Dan added.

“Each other.”, Josh answered and the audience cheered. “One night, we went out. Had some drinks and…and we ended up being really drunk and…yeah, we just had to express our love for each other and…we kissed. And let me tell you, Luke Evans is a really fantastic kisser.”

“I can agree.”, Emma started. “Luke planned this big birthday surprise for me and his gift was really special and I was like Oh my god, that’s so wonderful. I could kiss you. And he was like: Well, go on. Do it. And…I did?! I mean, that’s a possibility you only get once.”

“And who wouldn’t.”, Ellen added and Emma nodded.

“Yeah. Right?!”

“Why I’m the only one without a kiss?”, Dan asked and looked a bit offended. “That’s not fair! I want a kiss too!”

The audience started clapping and Luke bend to Dan and kissed him on the cheek and when Luke finished, Dan returned the kiss. The audience screamed and after Luke was back at his seat, Emma and Josh kissed him on the cheeks. Luke showed a big smile.

“I’m getting really jealous, so, next question!”, Ellen continued after the audience went silent again. “Never have I ever joined the mile high club.”

“The mile what?”, Dan asked and looked confused.

“If you don’t know, what it is, you haven’t joined it.”, Ellen said and Emma and Josh showed their I have never signs.

Luke bite his cheek and took a deep breath, slowly turning his sign to I have.

“Let me guess: Private jet?”, Josh asked and Luke laughed and nodded.

“Never have I ever had a threesome.”

Dan, Emma and Josh quickly showed I have never, but Luke bite his finger and looked down, while he turned his sign to I have.

“In my defence…”, he added. “I was pretty young and I tried myself out. And I tried stuff…so…”

“And just in case you want to tell us some details…”, Ellen said and Luke shook his head.

“Absolutely not!”

“Was it good?”, Josh asked and looked really curious.

Luke tried to find an answer and struggled to find words.

“I would say…yes and no?! I’m not going to say more.”

“You can tell us later. Next one: Never have I ever went to a nude beach.”

Dan and Josh turned their signs to I have never, Luke and Emma to I have.

“Well, we are not really surprised with your answer. You sleep naked.”, Ellen said and showed at Luke. “But Emma, really?!”

“Yes. Actually I’ve tried it once.”

“And how was it?”

“Well, it was a bit weird. On the one side, I kind of enjoyed it, but it got weird when people recognized me and asked me for a photo and stood there and I was naked…so…”

There was laughter.

“Yeah, that’s weird.”, Ellen agreed. “Another question: Never have I ever forgotten the name of my date.”

Josh was the only one, who showed I have.

“I actually have, yeah.”, he said and nodded.

“What did you do?”, Luke asked.

“We went to Starbucks and she had to say her name. The funny thing is, she also forgot mine, so she used Starbucks too.”

“Okay. Only three questions left: Never have I ever seen one of my Beauty and the Beast cast members naked.”

Emma, Dan and Josh started laughing and turned their signs to I have, Luke looked embarrassed down.

“Who and what happened?!”, asked Ellen. “Him?!”, she asked and pointed at Luke and the other three nodded. “What happened?”

“You want to tell the story?”, Emma asked and Luke hided his face – it was really red.

“Well…basically…I had a break and I was tired. So, I went into my trailer and took a nap and, how I said, I prefer to sleep naked. And suddenly there was a knock and I woke up, but was very drowsy and for some reason I thought, I’m at home. So I went to the door and forgot I was naked. And I opened it and…there were Emma and Dan and Josh and…I think someone else?!”

“Emma. Thompson.”, Dan added.

“And Stanley, I think?!”, Emma said and Josh agreed.

“So, yeah. Everyone was just looking at me and I realized, what just happened.”, Luke finished the story.

“It was an impressive sight.”, Josh said and everyone laughed.

“I remember, every one of us, you know, turned away or covered the eyes and then there was Emma Thompson, who looked at Luke, like, up and down, and she just looked at him and nodded and said nothing for some seconds and suddenly she was like He really is the size of barge. And we all just lost it. And Luke tried to cover himself with some kind of paper, that was at the door and she shook her head and said: That’s not going to help, honey. It’s waaaaay too small.“, Dan told, imitating Emma and there was a lot of laughter from the cast, Ellen and the audience.

Ellen wiped away the tears.

“I really have to invite Emma Thompson. Oh my god, this is hilarious.”

“Not so much for me.”, Luke said, but laughed too.

“Did you ever slept naked again on set?”

“Never.”

“Alright. Next question: Never have I ever used a sex toy.”

Luke turned red again and pressed his lips together, looking down at his sign and the audience started laughing. Slowly he showed the I have side. Emma and Dan showed I have never and Josh seemed lost in memories and slowly showed I have.

“Wow.”, Ellen said and looked at Josh.

“Sometimes you have to make your marriage interesting.”, he deadpanned and shrugged his shoulders and everyone laughed. “I’m probably getting hit for telling this on national television.”

“If she is angry, just remind her, what Luke revealed and she is no longer angry. Last question: Never have I ever stripped.”

Josh turned his sign to I have, Emma biting her lip and laughing embarrassed, turning her sign to I have too. Luke hide his face behind his sign, which said I have and Dan showed I have never. He looked at the others signs.

“I think, I’m prude.”, he said. “Your sex lives are way more interesting.”

“Well, in my defence, I stripped, because I had to do it for a movie.”, Emma said. “And I…basically practiced.”

“Sure. Practiced. That’s what we call it.”, Ellen said and Emma laughed. “What about you two?! I mean, I’m not even surprised by Luke’s answer.”

Luke lowered the sign a bit, so his eyes appeared.

“I’m pretty sure my publicist and agent are going to hate me after this.”

“But you stripped?”, Ellen asked and Luke nodded.

“Yeah. And I wish, I could say, it was just for a movie.”

“Since he’s naked all the time, his way of stripping is putting the clothes on.”, Dan said and there was a lot of laughter.

“But you stripped? Really?!”, Emma asked and looked at Josh.

“Well…here is the thing…”, he started and grinned. “I thought, I do something nice for my wife. Because, why not? It’s not just, you know, a woman thing. So…I planned this whole night. Nice dinner, massage, chocolate, flowers, champagne. You know, the whole program.”, he told and looked at the others who nodded.

“All the romantic stuff.”, Ellen said.

“That’s right. And then…I turned up the music and started stripping. Or to put it in other words: I tried. And I failed. Because, according to my wife’s laughter, it looks really funny, when I try to strip. And I somehow managed to dislocate something in my back and wrench at least one muscle. So…yeah. We spend the night in the hospital. It was a bit awkward to come up with an explanation the next day to my daughters, why daddy had to go to the hospital and is now hurt. But we just said, we played Twister a bit too much.”

The audience clapped and everyone laughed. Especially Luke, who covered his face to stop himself from bursting with laugh. Dan closed his eyes and shook his head.

“That’s an image I’m never going to forget.”, he said.

Luke laughed his high-pitched laugh, tears streaming down his face.

“I just…”, he said between to laughs and tried to catch his breath. “…can imagine this so well. Ida, sitting at the bed. Him, trying to strip. And she just laughing. Like, he tried to be sexy one time I was around and he tried so hard and she just looked at him and said Is everything alright, Darling? You look weird. And when he told her, what he tried to do, she was just like: Well, you failed, sweetheart.“

“And she added Luke is so much better. He should teach you.“, Josh said and Emma, Dan and Ellen laughed.

“I can’t wait for more stories. We go on a break and are back in some minutes.”