#nothing against the actor/cast/directors but i’m so glad you said something

[cowboypossume]

ace im too tired to redownload discord rn but 1. first of all im v sad charlie got a little bit whitewashed even though i appreciate how the actor looks like edmund pevensie and also that he's very good at acting lmao and 2. how come NO ONE WANRED me abt the mental health discussions in heartstopper i'm actually going to cry. i have to message u abt this properly later but ughhfnshdnshdj on a friday????

eek love i’m gonna have to warn you about later seasons and episodes bc um,,, the thoughts presented ✨manifest✨. but i am giving you a little hand hold bc i cannot deal with touch and a comfy sweater i have not taken off in three days bc it’s comfy and from a concert as a way to cope

[just-another-blog-of-fluff]

Bloopers

Word count: 2150

Warnings: tickling, fluff

Ok, this one is a little different than the others I've written; it's about the actual cast (specifically our fav British actor Mr. Hiddleston 😉)

* * *

“And… cut! Alright, let’s move on to the next battle scene then.”

The voice of the director echoing through the set snapped you out of your thoughts. You stood up and stretched a little, preparing to film the first scene of the day that you’d be part of. Script in hand, you joined the other cast members on the set for the scene briefing.

It still felt surreal that you had actually gotten to this point. You had signed up for an audition the moment you’d heard this role was open, figuring you could at least get some exposure by trying out for a big-name movie like a Marvel movie. As an up-and-coming actress, you needed all the exposure you could get. Never in a million years did you think you’d actually land a part in the movie, let alone the role of a supporting character.

You were trying desperately to get over being star-struck by the actors and actresses you were working with. They were all surprisingly down-to-earth, nothing like you’d expected from such famous stars as these. The moment you’d arrived on set, they had welcomed you with open arms as they had all the cast members, no matter how small their role was. They’d been trying to get you to relax a little, to see them as friends and coworkers rather than A-list celebrities. And you were trying – really­ trying – but you were still pretty shy and reserved off-set.

“Ready for your first shoot of the day?” Chris Hemsworth asked as you approached the crowd of cast members standing in the middle of the set.

“Uh… yeah, I think so!” you replied uncertainly. You glanced down at the script in your hands. This particular scene didn’t have many lines, as it was mostly an action scene, but those were the scenes you tended to struggle with. You had gotten good at getting into character when you had to have conversations, but you really had to think hard about how your character would move in battle.

“Come on, you have to say it like you mean it!” he chided, grasping your shoulders in emphasis. “Try again – are you ready?”

“Yes sir!” you shouted. He laughed heartily, releasing you with a final pat on the shoulder.

“Alright, it may be a battle scene, but you aren’t a soldier. We’ll work on it.” The flowing crimson cape of his costume swished along the floor as he turned to find his place in the circle of cast members. You followed suit, slipping into an opening right beside Tom Hiddleston. He glanced at you with a warm smile, which you returned timidly.

“He can be a bit overenthusiastic sometimes, can’t he?” Tom whispered. You nodded, looking across to where Chris was now casually twirling his hammer by the strap on one finger. “He is right, though. I’m certain you’ll do just fine. Give yourself a little credit.”

“Thanks,” you said appreciatively. You turned to face the director as he reviewed the upcoming scene.

It was a pretty standard fight scene by Marvel standards. Your character was battling alongside Thor and Loki as the villain attempted to slip past your defenses to gain access to Odin’s vault of magic artifacts. Magic, explosions, weapon-swinging… the whole works. There were a complex number of camera angles included in the scene, which meant a lot of stopping and restarting of filming to change position.

Physically, this type of scene was exhausting. It required a lot of ducking, jumping, and running, not to mention a LOT of falling. It wasn’t uncommon for you to go home with a few scrapes and bruises after this type of active scene. Like Chris and Tom, you insisted on doing your own stunt work. It wasn’t like you were jumping from buildings or anything like that; you knew you could handle this yourself.

“Ok, next clip!” the director called out, prompting you to prepare for the most difficult part of the scene. In this part, your character is standing a bit too close to an explosion and is thrown backward into Loki, who catches you before you fall backward onto the ground. You stood still as the stunt crew hooked you up to the wire that would yank you backward.

“Nervous?” Tom asked, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“A little, maybe. Is it fun, being dragged around on the wire?” you inquired.

“It’s a bit like riding a roller coaster. Except… you’re not in a cart, and you may crash into things.”

“Hmm. Comforting.” He patted your shoulder firmly a couple of times before walking past you to get into position for the shot.

“Alright, y/n, we’re not going to count down for you – we need a genuine element of surprise in this scene. Got it?”

“Understood,” you confirmed. Your heart was racing with adrenaline, anticipating the moment you would feel the rope tug you backward. Not to mention, Tom was going to be the one to catch you. Your heart fluttered a bit more at that thought.

It felt like minutes went by, although it was probably only seconds. Suddenly you felt the harness under your costume tighten around your waist as the wire finally pulled you backward. True to character, your arms flailed out as your heels slid backward across the floor for a millisecond before Tom caught you, sliding his hands under your outstretched arms to hold you up.

The sudden gentle pressure of his fingertips under your arms tickled like hell. Your knees buckled a little and you yelped in surprise. Tom lowered you to the ground, giving you a moment to rest after your first take.

“The fall was perfect, y/n, but try not to bend your knees like that when Tom catches you. Remember, you’re supposed to be a fierce warrior; your character would jump right back up to their feet,” the director called from off set. You avoided Tom’s gaze as he helped you to regain your footing.

“Did I hurt you? You shouted when I caught you,” he asked, concern weighing in his tone.

“No! Nope, I’m fine, sorry. Just got nervous. First take and all, you know?” you responded quickly, trying to hide your blush.

“Understandable. I recall the first time I was pulled down to the floor by a wire during the infamous ‘Hulk smash’ scene…” he chuckled. “I’m just glad I didn’t hurt you.”

You set up for a second take, this time heart pounding for different reasons. How embarrassing would it be if Tom found out what really happened there? You needed to focus more this time.

This time, when the wire grew taught, you were at least prepared for the swooping sensation in your stomach as you slid backward. Once again, Tom caught you right on cue, his hands lifting your upper body up from under your arms. It still caught you off guard how much it tickled. You let a giggle slip out and went limp in his arms again, nearly causing him to drop you to the floor.

“Cut!” The director walked closer to you and Tom so you could hear him better. “Don’t forget – don’t bend your knees. And it’s probably breaking character to be grinning like that after getting launched by an explosion.”

“I know it’s fun doing stunts and all, but you have to think like your character even during the action scenes,” Tom advised, helping you up off the floor once again.

“It’s not that! I just… never mind,” you mumbled, feeling your cheeks burning again. Tom raised his eyebrows at you in confusion.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked, ducking down to catch your gaze as you stared down at your feet.

“Promise. I’ll get it this time,” you assured.

You both set up for take three, this time determined you would get it completely right. You gritted your teeth, trying to envision the actual explosion they’d be adding with CGI later. The wire tugged, and you flew backward once again into Tom’s waiting arms. You almost maintained your composure, until he started to pull you to your feet, fingertips digging into the hollows under your arms. You shrieked, letting out a few more giggles as you stumbled forward to evade his fingers.

“Cut!” You steeled yourself and turned around to look at Tom, who was giving you a confused look. You shot him a look of apology.

“Am I missing a joke? Did Hemsworth put you up to something?” Tom asked, placing his hands on his hips, a grin tugging at his lips. Even after you ruined the take three times in a row, he only used the kindest tone with you. You couldn’t lie to him.

“No… I just… when you slide your hands under my arms to catch me, it… it sort of tickles. A lot,” you mumbled sheepishly. You risked a glance up from the floor to look at Tom, whose eyes had lit up with understanding.

“Ahh! Now it all makes sense!” he exclaimed. “Well, I do apologize; it was not my intention to tickle you. I’ll try not to this take.” He shot you a mischievous wink, not unlike his character.

“Thanks… I’ll try to keep my composure this time,” you promised.

The director shouted additional directions and reminders to you as you set up for yet another take. As you got into position, you turned your head to look at Tom standing behind you. He grinned at you, although you couldn’t tell if it was a smile of encouragement or a mischievous smirk. Maybe it was the costume…

The wire tugged you backwards once again, and the outcome was the same. Tom even tried to catch you closer to your upper arms, but the sensation was still too much for you to handle. A rapid stream of giggles bubbled from your chest as your muscles weakened once again. Tom was laughing with you this time, though, now that he knew better.

“You did that on purpose!!” you exclaimed, spinning around to face him once you’d regained your footing.

“On purpose!?” His mouth dropped open in mock offense. “You think I did that on purpose?? Come here, and I’ll show you ‘on purpose.’” You shrieked, spinning around to run away, but he grabbed hold of your wrist before you could get very far. He tugged you backwards, trapping you against him in a bear hug.

“Wait!! C-can’t we talk about this?” you begged.

“Sorry, no can do.” Before you could protest further, Tom’s fingers were digging into your ribs, eliciting a startled squeal from you. He laughed out loud at your overzealous reaction. “Mahaybe… eheh… maybe this will help you get all the giggles out, hmm?”

“No, Tom, wahahait!!” you begged, folding into yourself and twisting around to break his hold without success.

“I apologize, my dear, but this is for your own good. Can’t have you continuing to mess up these takes, now can we?” His fingers darted up and down your sides and ribs, and your knees buckled beneath you, sinking to the floor. Tom followed you down, still holding fast while he continued to skitter his fingertips over your belly.

“Stahahap!!” you pleaded, grasping feebly at his wrists as laughter poured out of you.

“Now, honestly, y/n – this is supposed to be a battle scene and you’re laughing like a schoolgirl,” he teased, wrestling to hold you still while he continued to torment you. “How are we going to get through this scene if you don’t start taking it seriously?”

“THEN STAHAHAP TICKLING MEHEHE!” you retorted, yelping as his hands spidered higher up your ribcage.

“Oh, is that what I’m doing?” Tom wrapped one arm further around your ribs so he could pull your arms up, giving him unrestricted access under your arms. He scribbled maddeningly gently at the hollows, making you explode with uncontrollable laughter.

“OK! OK! IHIHI’LL GET IT RIGHT THIS TIHIHIME!!” you shouted. Deciding you’d had enough torture, Tom finally released you from his hold. You took a moment to catch your breath before looking up at your fellow castmates, who were smirking at you, much to your dismay. You felt heat rising to your face as you picked yourself up off the floor, turning to face a grinning Tom (who was looking more and more like Loki by the second with that mischievous gleam in his eye).

“Well then! I’ve had my fun for the day,” he announced casually.

“Thahat was so mean!” you groaned. He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and squeezing you in a one-armed hug for a moment.

“You know you loved every second of it,” he teased.

“Shut up, you,” you muttered, pushing him away jokingly. The two of you got back into position to try the take again.

This time, you got it right. Because honestly, nothing could have been worse than the torment he’d just put you through. But, if you were being honest with yourself, he was right - you had loved every second of it.

[villainousshakespeare]

Learning a Lesson Chapter 9

iLearning a Lesson Chapter 8

Part 1 Here, Part 2 Here, Part 3 Here, Part 4 Here, Part 5 Here, Part 6 Here, Part 7 Here, Part 8 Here

Young Actor Tom Hiddleston/OFC

Rated E -Smut, Angst, Complicated Relationship - Teacher/Actor Posing as Student, Feels, Flirting, Fluff, Oral Sex, Sex, Shower Sex, Threats, Breakups, Angst…

ANGST IN THIS CHAPTER! (but don’t worry… I’m a hopeless romantic)

Summary: It’s your first day as a teacher and things are going well. That is, until a tall, gorgeous boy with blond curls and dramatic ways saunters into your last class. When he ignores all the swooning girls to flirt outrageously with you, it is secretly thrilling. Even more so is when he tries to steal a kiss after class ends. How long will you be able to keep your defenses up?

Up and Coming actor Tom is under cover in high school for  research for a movie, but the pretty drama teacher is making the long assignment so much more enjoyable

@arch-venus25​, @caffiend-queen​ @ciaodarknessmyheart​ @frostbitten-written​ @just-the-hiddles​ @kellatron55​ @myoxisbroken​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @poetic-fiasco​ @shiningloki​ @shae-annelore​ @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy​ @hiddlesholic​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @wolfsmom1​ @tom-hlover​ @toozmanykids​ @delightfulheartdream​ @whyispistashanuttaken​ @hopelessromanticspoonie​; @loki-yoursaviourishere​ @is-it-madness​

The Monday morning walk to school was the longest of Emily's life. With every step she took she was tempted to turn around and run the other way, hiding under her blankets and weeping rather than going on. Only a deep seated stubborn streak kept her from giving in to her fears and doing just that.

She needn't have worried. Tom was true to his word. There was no sign of him to be found in school. No infectious laugh ringing through the hallway, no tousled halo of blond hair floating above the shorter students amidst a throng of admirers, and no ice blue eyes seeking hers for a secret wink or speaking glance.

Emily told herself it was for the best. She hoped she would eventually believe it.

The other god-send was that Jim Howard seemed to have called in sick. A substitute was in his classroom when she got there, and never had she been so glad to see the old woman than she was that day. She assumed that it was his pride that kept him from walking into the building with a black eye and a swollen jaw, and took evil delight in the fact that Tom had so thoroughly trounced him.

Tom. There he was again. She could not go five minutes without calling him to mind. It was going to be a long day. Hell, it was going to be a long forever as far as she knew. How long would it take to get over the golden boy who had so completely won her heart?

Half a day was how long it took for the news of his exit to hit the school grapevine. Emily began hearing his name whispered during her fourth period class. By the time that class ended and she made her way to the staff lounge it was all anyone was talking about. Ada, Janis, and Mike were gossiping about it when she came in, a pathetic lunch of coffee and a banana in her hand.

"Well, anyone with eyes could have seen that that boy should be a movie star," Janis was opining. "It doesn't surprise me one bit."

"Oh, come on Janis," Mike laughed, skepticism showing, "he was handsome, sure, but there's no way you saw this coming!"

"I'm not saying that," Janis sniffed. "Obviously I didn't know he was an actor. But if anyone in this school was destined for greatness it was Martinsson."

"Hiddleston," Mike corrected her. "Apparently that's his real name. You're awfully quiet, Emily. You were close with the boy, weren't you? Tutoring him after hours and all?"

"Not that close," she said with a half shrug. "He claimed to want help with an audition monologue, but that was obviously for show. We never actually worked on it. Just class."

The words were true enough as far they went, even if the meaning behind them was an all out lie.

"Still, he clearly preferred you," Ada said, giving her a probing look. "I heard all sorts of chatter about how he always flirted with you, volunteering to read romantic scenes with you. I was a little jealous, to tell the truth. I mean, and I can say it now that I know he's a genuine adult - what I wouldn't have given for a chance to sculpt a nude of that boy!"

"No wonder Howard hated him so much," Mike laughed good naturedly. "It seems it's not just the high school girls who had a thing for him."

Emily did her best to tune them out after that, and took to eating in her classroom. The days blended into each other, with no end of the day secret to make them stand out as special.

The kids in her drama class were all excited of course. The thought that they had read scenes with an honest to goodness actor, one who was going to be starring in a movie, made them practically giddy. Kate began recirculating the lie that the two of them had been involved, and no one dared to correct her. Emily was angry on his behalf, offended that anyone would believe he would fool around with a student, until she realized the implications of that thought.

It was that guilt that was the worst. Well, along with the loneliness. Even if he had been an adult, she hadn't known that. She had thought him no different than Kate or Zack or Jamie, and she had slept with him anyway. She deserved all the pain she was feeling. Deserved more than that; to loose her job and never be hired again, even. More and more she slipped into a depression.

It was nine days after she had thrown him out of her apartment and her life that the first letter arrived. She grabbed her mail from the small slot inside the door and rifled through it on the way up the stairs as she always did, expecting nothing more than bills and solicitations. When she turned over an envelope addressed in an instantly recognizable hand, she felt as though she had been punched in the gut. Hands shaking, she opened the seal, afraid that if she didn't do it at once she would never find the courage, and unfolded a letter.

"My Darling Emily," it began in Tom's loopy mess of long hand, "I know I have no right to write to you, having broken your trust in the most caddish way possible. I only hope that you will allow me the opportunity to once more take advantage of your goodness of heart and kindness of disposition, that I may try to explain why I orchestrated such a hurtful charade.

"As you are patently aware now, I am an actor of both stage and screen. I take my profession very seriously, perhaps more so than it deserves, though I like to believe that you among all women will understand why. If I can peel away the layers of a character enough to expose the beating heart within, allowing my audience to sees even a piece of the truth of humanity in my portrayal, then I truly believe that I am contributing something to this shared experience we all are living. Pretentious as that sounds, it is my goal every time I assume a role, be it Iago or a soldier, or even Mr. Toad.

"When I was cast as a student from the States, I knew I had my work cut out for me. I was educated, I blush to say my love, in the best schools in England: Eton, Cambridge, and RADA. My good fortune has been quite excessive, I know, though no teacher I encountered in all of my tutelage could hold a candle to you, my darling. In any case, I was woefully unprepared to know the struggle such a young man was going through. My director came up with the idea to have me pose in a small town school, and I admit I leapt at the chance.

"Never in a million years would I have guessed that I would meet the woman of my dreams in such a situation.

"I confess that in the beginning I flirted with you to amuse myself. You are quite breathtakingly beautiful, my sweet, and I was bored beyond belief. As the days went on, however, I began to uncover the woman underneath the starched blouses and pencil skirts. A woman with a mind that soared and a soul that sung. One who shared my passion for stage poetry, and did not back down from a challenge.

"In short, my darling Emily, I fell in love with you.

"I should have told you the moment our relation crossed over the line. Alas my love, I fear that it is a coward who worships you. I was afraid that if you learned the truth you would be angry, and I wanted to collect as many precious moments with you as I could before your warm eyes turned cold. My sin is great, I know. I do not deserve to be forgiven. Nonetheless, I place my heart at your feet in hope that you will take it up, take pity on me, and not stomp it beneath your shoe.

"The film I am working on seized the opportunity afforded by my early matriculation to begin shooting. I am relocated to New York City to start principal photography. I know it is a mere two hours from you, and yet it feels the length of the world. Knowing I will not see you each day, hold you at night, is a weight on my soul that I know I have only myself to blame for.

"I ask nothing of you, my dearest Emily, but that you allow me to write to you. I do not expect you to write back, although I live in hope that one day you will. The distance keeps us apart, but perhaps that need not be all bad. Perhaps it can give you time to heal and to trust me once more. Let me write to you, to tell you about myself - my real self - and try to win your friendship back if nothing else. It has been the most important of my life.

"I do not flatter myself that I will ever hold you again, kiss your soft lips, feel you beneath me as you gasp in passion. I have too great a mark against me to hope for such grace. I would die to have it, but will not impose it on you. Just let me try to heal the hurt I have done, and I will be content.

"If you cannot find it within you to accept my offer of friendship in the form of epistles, simply write me with one word. 'Stop' and I will cease. You are in control, my heart. I will bow to your wishes.

"Please take good care of yourself, my Emily. I wish I could be their to tend to you myself. Be warry of the dread maths teacher. I know it is no longer my place, but I would ask you to not be alone around him.

"Enough of that. I will end for now. Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow.

"My heart is yours.

All my love,

Tom."

Emily read the letter through, barley able to make out the words through the tears welling in her eyes. When she had finished, she collapsed onto the bed and read it through again, openly weeping this time. All of the pain and guilt she had been holding in came flooding out. In the end, she had to put the letter aside so that the deluge of her tears didn't permanently mar the ink composing the lines. By then she knew it by heart, but she still loved to see his strong hand scrawled out over the page.

She did not for a moment consider writing him to stop. Perhaps she should have. There was no future she could see for the two of them. Her trust had been shattered, along with her mental image of herself, by the situation. On top of that, he was away, filming a movie in the big city that she rarely went to. When this movie was ended, who knew where he would be? Jetting off to exotic countries? Treading the boards in London? His life was exciting and adventurous, and she was a little mouse of a school teacher from a small town. How could they hope to make a relationship work, even without their drama?

The letters came far more frequently than she had expected. While it was not every day, Tom was clearly grasping every spare moment he had to pour out his heart to her. He told her all about the filming process. She felt as though she knew his costars, so vividly did he depict them. Against her will, Emily would find herself laughing at ridiculous anecdotes, or groaning in commiseration at delays in the shooting.

In the midst of all of these tales of misadventures and productivity, Tom made clear to he still hoped to win Emily back. He never missed an opportunity to praise her, calling her darling, his sweet, his dear, his love. He mentioned how he had suggested that one of the teachers should be young, smart, and sexy as an homage to her, though no one could possibly do her justice. He let slip that he had been making his costars groan with his continual referencing her, to the point where they teased him any time her name arose.

At the end of each letter he dropped all pretense, stating plainly that he loved her and would do anything to win her back. He insisted that he would wait, that the decision was entirely hers, but that he lived in hope that one day she would write him back, telling him she forgave him. Until that day, he would soldier on and try to deserve her.

Several times Emily found herself sitting down, trying to pen a reply to him. She wanted, desperately wanted, to do so. But each time, the fear would come crashing down and she would end up tearing the letter to shreds.

About two months after the letters started, there was a longer than usual gap between arrivals. Emily began to think that he had given up on her, and a panic she had never felt gripped her. She had not realized the extent to which she had been living for his words.

When an envelope finally arrived, it was in an international envelope, and the return address was London, England. That was it, then. He was out of the country. All of the stories of his homecoming, complete with welcoming family, were a dagger to her. He still professed his love, but now an actual ocean separated them along with the sea of emotion.

Their were two more letters, spread over a month and a half, and then nothing for three weeks. Depression returned. She had all but given up when a card shaped envelope, gilded on the edges, arrived in her box.

***

"Alright, out with it!"

Emily looked up from the pile of papers she was grading to see Ada standing in her classroom door, arms crossed over her paint splattered apron and a determined look on her face.

"Out with what?" Emily asked, confusion genuine.

"It's been four months, Emily," the older woman said, shutting the door behind her as she walked in and sat at one of the student desks. The same desk, Emily couldn't help but note, that had once been Tom's.

"Sorry?"

"Four months that you have been moping around! Barely showing your face in the teacher's lounge, looking like someone stole your dog and kicked your kitten. This, from the girl who was such a spark of joy when she was hired that she even ignited passion for teaching in an old war horse like me!"

"I'm sorry," Emily mumbled.

"Don't be sorry, girl! Tell me what's wrong!"

"It's nothing."

"Emily, do you think I'm blind?" Ada asked with a sigh.

"No..."

"Or that I'm stupid?"

"Of course not!"

"Good," Ada snorted. "As I am neither. Four months ago, a certain long-legged boy with more looks than are good for anyone swaggered out of this school, and you have been a ghost ever since. It's not hard to put the pieces together."

Emily gaped at her, all color draining from her face. If Ada knew, or strongly suspected, was it then general knowledge? Was her shame a joke amongst the faculty, or a cause of scorn?

"Don't worry, hun," Ada said, as though reading her mind. "Most of the people around here are blind and stupid. No one else has any idea. Well, maybe Jim, but that's a whole other can of worms that I am not too keen on digging around in. So, you fell for the boy, huh?"

"You must despise me," Emily said, voice hardly above a whisper.

"So you're failing is that you're deaf," Ada shook her head. "How many times did you hear me rhapsodize about him? Hell, I was undressing him with my eyes every damn day!"

"But you never took it farther than that."

"No, I didn't. But then I am decades older than either one of you and was not given the opportunity. Who knows what I might have done if he had batted those long golden lashes at me and flashed a dimple."

"You wouldn't have slept with a student," Emily said doggedly.

"Is that what this is? That you feel guilty? Tell me something, Emily: would you ever even consider anything inappropriate with say... Jack Simmons, or Zach Lewis, or Dan Fielding? Would it even occur to you?"

"No," Emily said at once, repulsed by the very idea.

"Of course not. Because they are children. The Simmons boy is a hulking child, true, but even though he is big, he is still an adolescent. You can easily tell in a moment he is not an adult. Now, compare that to Tom. He has a baby face, and is all gangly, but there was something about him that flatly identified him as a man. You knew that, instinctively. That is why you let things play out the way you did."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because I know you," Ada said simply. "You are a good person, with a moral compass. Was it a stupid thing to do? Of course! It could have ended horribly for you, and thank god it didn't! But don't beat yourself up for listening to your intuition when it turned out to be right! Even if the boy did end up being a snake."

"What if he wasn't?" Emily asked carefully.

"I just assumed... he left, and you didn't seem happy about it... Emily, what did happen?"

Emily looked at her friend, chewing on her lip as she decided what to say. Ada already knew the worst; what harm could it do to let her in on the rest? In a rush it all came out. The clandestine affair, the trouble with Mr. Howard, seeing Tom on Nicholas Nickleby, their disastrous fallout, all of it. Ada sat there rapt as Emily spilled the whole sordid story.

"He really punched Jim?" Ada asked when she had finished, a huge grin spread over her face.

"Twice," Emily confirmed, answering smile on her own mouth. "Hard. Knocked him flat onto the ground."

"Oh, would I have loved to have seen that."

"I could have lived without it, honestly."

"Oh, hun, I don't know what to tell you," Ada shook her head. "I don't even know whether to feel jealous of you sorry for you. Both, I suppose. Ah, to be young again."

"He's been writing me letters," Emily confessed, face reddening. "Ever since he left."

"What does he say?" Ada's eyes were huge.

"Different things. How his day is going. About the filming. That he loves me and wants to be with me."

"Well what the hell are you doing here then?" Ada stood from the desk to stare at her.

"Ada..."

"Girl, if that young man wanted me, you can bet that nothing would keep me away!"

"He's in London," she muttered.

"Did something happen to all the airplanes?"

"No... In fact..."

"In fact what, Emily? Spill it? Give a woman something to live vicariously through!"

With a sigh, Emily dug through her bag and pulled out the card she had received the day before. It was an invitation to a movie premiere in New York City. Folded along with that was a train ticket, prepaid first class, and a small note:

    "I would not wish Any companion in the world but you,      Nor can imagination form a shape, Besides yourself, to like of.

     Tom (with all thanks to Miranda in The Tempest)"

"Well," Ada smiled at her, "when shall we go shopping? You, my dear, are going to need a dress!"

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Won’t You Stay (Part 10)

Summary: The reader meets a few of Jensen’s friends but ends up having a bad morning when she wakes up late for work...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x Director!reader

Word Count: 2,900ish

Warnings: language, angst, implied past domestic abuse

A/N: Please enjoy!

_____

“Ackles,” said a tall guy when you got to the restaurant that night. He gave you a smile as you took a seat at the table, a woman sitting next to him. “You must be Y/N. I’m Jared.”

“I’m Gen,” said the woman, giving you a friendly smile.

“Hi,” you said, looking at them both. “You two seem familiar.”

“We did Supernatural with Jensen,” said Jared. “I was on all three seasons with him. Gen joined the last before I locked that down.”

“These losers are married,” teased Jensen. “At least I did not have to third wheel again.”

“So what’s it like having your girlfriend boss you around all day?” said Jared with a smile.

“Oh you wish you were in my position, buddy,” said Jensen. 

“You will learn very quickly these two turn into toddlers around each other,” said Gen. “They’d be joined at the hip if they could be.”

“I’m going to take a wild guess and say Jared’s the friend Jensen does his check in thing with?” you asked.

“You wouldn’t be wrong,” chuckled Jared. He glanced at Jensen and you looked down, feeling a foot tap your own. You lifted your head and saw Jared giving you a smile. “It’s not a secret or anything. I could do worse for a brother.”

“Aw,” said Jensen, Jared rolling his eyes.

“He’s very much a loser if you haven’t realized that yet,” said Jared.

“Losers are cooler than people think,” you said.

“Told you I liked this girl,” said Jared as the waiter came back over. 

Fifteen minutes later you had your food and Gen was already inviting you to a girls night dinner. You watched Jensen interact with his friends, smiling when you saw how he was with Jared. There was something sweet about it. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought they were real brothers. You liked that he had a friend like that, especially in the acting industry when people were known for throwing each under the bus.

“Y/N, wanna go to the bathroom with me?” asked Gen. 

“Sure,” you said, leaving your napkin on your seat as you went back with her. She used the restroom for a moment while you waited by the sink, smiling when she came out. 

“So it’s been awhile since Jensen’s had a girlfriend I’ve heard. I’ve never seen him even go on a date,” she said.

“He said he’s been on a break from them for a while,” you said. She dried off her hands and hummed. 

“You must be special then,” she said. You swallowed and she smiled. “Listen. He deserves to be happy and so do you. You two seem to like each other so I’m all for it. Those two boys are going to be besties for life so we’ll probably see a lot of each other.”

“I’ve barely been dating him. I don’t know…” you shrugged. She smiled and nodded. “I’m just enjoying it right now.”

“Probably the smart move,” she said, fixing her hair in the mirror. You pursed your lips and looked at your own reflection. Jensen’s hat was backwards on your head, hiding the flyaways you had from the rollercoasters that afternoon. You touched the end of your side braid. You weren’t even wearing any makeup. “You do realize he’s been drooling over you since the second you walked in the door, right?”

“Yeah but I mean I’m not an idiot. Guys like it when we look pretty and dress up,” you said.

“They also like it when we wear their stuff,” she said. “Relax. This was totally last minute anyways. I was literally in my underwear when I met Jared for the first time. I was mortified.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. It was our first scene together. He was late that day so he showed up on set and I was like awesome, let’s meet the cute guy when I’m half naked,” she said.

“I was kinda mad that our original lead actor dropped out and they had an emergency casting call. But Jensen was late to it. I didn’t know what he looked like. I went to take a walk around the block to relax and this guy kind of grabbed me and started bothering me. Jensen came out of nowhere and got me out of there while he dealt with the guy. Ten minutes later I find out he’s the guy that’s supposed to be auditioning in my movie.”

“Oh wow. I assumed you just met on set,” she said.

“No. He found out who I was the next day,” you said. “He asked me out the night before.”

“He’s the kind of guy that does that sort of thing, helps people I mean,” she said.

“I’m starting to get that,” you said.

“Maybe you help him,” she said. You raised an eyebrow and she shrugged. “Like I said. I’ve never seen him on a date. I don’t think Jared has either.”

“I just like him,” you said.

“Good,” she said, grabbing your hand. “Come on and split some dessert with me. I want to see that boy blush over you more.”

“I like her,” you said to Jared as you walked out of a bar later that night, Gen walking ahead with Jensen, the two of them chatting about you if you had to guess. “She’s cute.”

“Yes, she is. Jensen mentioned you were pretty cute too,” said Jared. “He’s been talking about you for weeks now. I was wondering when we’d get to meet.”

“Work keeps me pretty busy,” you said.

“I love the book by the way,” he said. “Jensen was bouncing off the freaking wall when he got the part. You have no idea how happy that made him.”

“He was very good. He got the part all on his own,” you said. “He’s a good actor.”

“He is. Any guy our age would kill to get to play opposite Ethan Y/L/N,” said Jared. “He says that’s nothing compared to you though.”

“What do you mean?”

“He likes the atmosphere you create on set,” said Jared. “He’s making me jealous almost. I’d love a director that cares more about the people making something than profits and marketing.”

“If I don’t screw this up and end up directing more, come look me up. Jensen’s friends are more than welcome on my sets,” you said. 

“I’ll take you up on that. I think you’re too hard on yourself. You’ll do fine with it,” said Jared.

“How would you know that? We just met after all.”

“Do you know why Jensen checks in on me everyday?” he asked, slowing his walk. “He worries about me. Sometimes I listen to the crap in my head too much. I had a rough go of it once. He was there for me. He’s still there for me. It doesn’t matter where or when. I can always go knock on his door and he’s there.”

“It’s like I keep telling him. People aren’t sweet like him,” you said as you looked ahead.

“They are. He’s just our version of it,” he said. “I’m willing to share if you are.”

“You can always come knock on his door, Jared. Even if I’m there,” you said. “I’m not stealing him away or anything.”

“Yet you don’t think people are as sweet as him,” he laughed. “You’re funny, Y/L/N.”

He slowed as you saw Jensen and Gen hanging out by the door of an apartment building, Jared leaning over to you.

“He doesn’t always say it but you’ll figure it out soon enough,” said Jared. “He thinks you’re sweet too.”

“Goodnight Jared,” you said as he started to walk again, a smirk crossing his lips. 

“Goodnight Y/N. We’ll have to have you guys over for dinner sometime when you’re not so insanely busy,” said Jared.

“We will take you up on that,” said Jensen, throwing an arm over your shoulders. “Night guys.”

He spun the two of you around before you kept going down the block, Jared laughing in the distance.

“Your friends are nice,” you said.

“They like you,” he said. He dropped his arm and took your hand in his instead, swinging it gently as you headed back towards his car. “I’m glad they like you.”

“They care about you.”

“Yes, they do,” he said. “Still. It’s hard being the tag along sometimes.”

“Jensen. I don’t think either one of them has ever considered you a tag along,” you said. “They want you to be happy.”

“I am,” he said. He kissed you slowly, smiling when he moved back. “Promise.”

“Me too,” you said.

“Anywhere else you’d like to go tonight, pretty girl?” he asked. 

“I am already up way past my bedtime,” you said, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Do you want to sleepover tonight?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “You’re very cuddly when you sleep.”

“Sorry,” you said, glad it was dark out and your blush was hidden. He leaned over and brushed his lips against your ear.

“I kinda really like it,” he whispered. You smiled, Jensen spinning you around in a circle until you giggled. “Oh, there’s another thing I like.”

“What else do you like?” you asked.

“Everything,” he said. 

“Ah. That narrows it down,” you said.

“Not a word of a lie,” he said as you let out a small yawn. “Come on. Let’s get you in bed. We have work bright and early.”

“Fuck,” you said, bottling up out of bed the next morning. You slammed your alarm clock, four snoozes in and dashed out of bed, running into the bathroom as Jensen yawned and sat up.

“Morning,” he said with a stretch, watching you run around your bedroom. You slammed the door shut to the bathroom and exited not twenty seconds later in new clothes. “I love a girl that don’t mess around in the morning.”

“I am so late,” you said, grabbing a hair tie from your dresser. You threw it back in a messy pony, Jensen tossing his hat from the floor at you. “Thanks.”

You tugged it on and he rolled out of bed, moving a little slow before he wandered into your bathroom and exited.

“Y/N, it’s like five am,” he yawned.

“I have to review my shots for the day and I have a budget meeting and a stunt review all before eight,” you said, pausing as you grabbed your backpack. “Uh you can totally sleep in. Just lock up after yourself.”

“Nah, it’s cool. I’ll come in early, crash in my trailer for a few,” he said. “Maybe have breakfast with my smokin’ hot director.”

“Does this look smokin’ hot?” you said, pointing down at yourself.

“Well, you’re wearing my hat and my texas t shirt. Yeah, pretty damn hot right now, girl,” he said. You hadn’t even realized you’d grabbed his shirt, just thought it was a big baggy one you used for washing your car or stuff around the house. 

“Oh,” you said, glancing at him, bare chested as he pulled on his jeans. “I didn’t mean to take your shirt.”

“Please do,” he smirked. “I got a sweatshirt in my car. It’s fine.”

“I didn’t remember you taking off your shirt last night,” you said. He nodded and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I got hot under the covers,” he said, glancing away. 

“Sorry,” you said when you kept staring at him.

“Not like you haven’t seen me without a shirt on before,” he said. 

“You’re just...really good looking,” you said, tugging on the bottom of your shirt.

“You can change in front of me if you want. I mean, I can keep it in my pants,” he said.

“It’s not…” you said, Jensen looking you up and down. “People like you aren’t with people like me.”

“I don’t know if it was this ex or what but this twisted sense of self-image or worth or whatever you have going on, you should tell it to shove it cause you are damn gorgeous. You care about people. The world ain’t seeing what you think it is,” he said.

You swallowed and stared at him, Jensen dropping his arms to his sides. You fixed the backpack onto your shoulders before you picked up your phone from your nightstand.

“Y/N,” said Jensen, walking around to your side of the bed, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“I have to relearn those things, Jensen. It’s gonna take time for me to do that,” you said.

“Let me help you do that,” he said.

“Why?” you asked, spinning around.

“Because I care about you,” he said quietly. 

“Yeah but why do you care about me,” you asked. 

“I don’t know. I just do. It kinda scares me to be honest,” he said. 

“Why, cause you’re attracted to a freak?” you asked. He scowled and turned you around, planting a harsh kiss on your lips. His hands cupped your cheeks when he pulled back and you felt like his green eyes were staring right through you.

“Because I don’t know what this is. It feels familiar but it’s not and that’s scary. I hate that you think that way about yourself and everyday I want to go and kick this ex-boyfriend’s ass more and more. He sounds worse than just a bad ex, Y/N. You’re not a freak. You’re someone I care about,” he said. “It doesn’t seem like you care about you all that much which really sucks cause she’s a pretty special girl that deserves it.”

You didn’t know what to say, not with the way he was looking at you. 

Crying when you were already late for the day seemed like the worst possible thing to do but that’s what your body decided for you. Jensen wrapped his arms around your shoulders, kissing your temple and shushing you.

“I’m late,” you sniffled. “I gotta go.”

“Not happening.”

“I’m gonna get in trouble again and I already used up a favor pushing the stunt back before,” you mumbled. “They’re gonna fire me off my own movie.”

“First off, no, they won’t. Second, you need to take a hot minute for yourself and lay back down in bed for another few hours. Filming doesn’t start until eight so we have time. Third, you’re gonna blame this on me,” he said. You tilted your head up, Jensen already shaking his. “I called you freaking out about the pressure and you came over to calm me down. That’s what we say when someone asks.”

“Jensen, no. You can’t do that,” you said. “You’ll get labeled as something you’re not and big gigs could take years to come your way again.”

“Well who gives a fuck about big gigs. I want my girlfriend to be okay right now. That’s what I want,” he said.

“Jensen,” you said.

“No. It’s like I said, you don’t have to tell me a damn thing you don’t want to. But I’m not gonna watch you bully yourself. I won’t. So I’ll help you kick that thing’s ass inside your head that’s making you feel that way. Please. Lay back down, I’ll text your dad, ask him to tell the story that you were reaming me out a new one to get me to keep working and at seven, we’ll wake up and head to work, alright?” 

“You’re not gonna give me a choice,” you said, shutting your eyes.

“You always have a choice. Just make this one right now. Please,” he said.

“Fine but-”

“No buts except you get yours back in that bed for more sleep,” he said. You peeled open your eyes, Jensen with a worried stare looking back. “Tonight after work, we’ll talk and figure out a good way to get through this, alright?”

“I’m not something to fix,” you mumbled, sliding your backpack off.

“I never said you were broken,” he said softly. You looked over at him, giving him a small smile before you slipped under the covers. He left the room for a minute and you kicked off your jeans, Jensen dropping his own when he came back in. He crawled underneath and pulled you into his side, moving the blankets around you. “Relax, honey. It’ll be okay. I promise.”

_____

A/N: Read Part 11 here!

[skzsauce01]

In Fair Verona︱Chapter 9

Synopsis: Jisung knows he is the Romeo to your Juliet. He could wax poetry about you all throughout rehearsal and even a little after. Except Hwang Hyunjin is the one playing Romeo in the school play, not him. Jisung is just another tech crew member that you don’t know, but he’s determined to win your heart... by any means necessary.

Warning: violent thoughts

Word Count: 2.7k

Pairing: fem!reader x Jisung; fem!reader x Hyunjin

updates every Wednesday and Sunday @ 11 PM PST︱chapter list

O serpent heart hid with a flowering face!

Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?

Beautiful tyrant! Fiend angelical!

Dove-feathered raven, wolvish-ravening lamb!

He spends the night tossing and turning in bed, devising a plan to win you back. All the roads lead to getting Hyunjin out of the picture, but how does he do it? Eventually, the rain drumming against his window lulls him to sleep before he can finish fleshing out his idea, and when he wakes up in the morning, the storm has passed. Jisung takes it as a sign that the day will be better.

The preview of the show is happening at 3:30, and there’s a certain electricity in the air after school. Like Mr. Gi said, the cast and crew shirts came in the morning, and Jisung gets his before the preview begins. You and the girl playing Lady Montague are sorting out the shirts into piles according to size.

He goes up to you even though Lady Montague is closer to him. “Hey.”

You don’t look up from your shirt stacking. “Hi. What’s your size?”

“Medium,” he replies as he carefully watches you. At least you’re talking to him.

“Yeji has them,” you point to Lady Montague, still not looking at him.

“Thanks.”

He collects his shirt from Yeji and pulls it over his black hoodie. It makes him look puffy and bulky, and he waits for you to tease him like you normally would. Your eyes never stray from the shirts in your hands. He ruffles his hair, but you don’t even spare a glance. Both you and Yeji are starting to break down the boxes the shirts arrived in. It’s quiet except for the snapping of cardboard.

“The design is kind of nice,” he remarks in another attempt to get your attention.

“Yuna did it,” Yeji replies. Jisung is not pleased that she does, but he merely nods. “Hyunjin wanted to, but the design he came up with was so bad. Remember, Y/N?”

Your distant mood dissipates for a minute, and your familiar warmth is back. A wide grin crosses your face. “He really thought Comic Sans was a good font to use. And his drawing!”

“Ms. Park’s face when she saw it!”

“And Hyunjin’s reaction!”

The two of you are reminiscing and laughing. Jisung doesn’t understand a word of it, but you’re shining bright again. He feels a bit like an outsider, but his heart swells with pride, knowing that he was the cause of all this. However, the happy atmosphere slowly fades into a more mellow one, and the silence is back.

“Break a leg today,” he abruptly says. “See you on stage, Juliet.” He leaves the room but not before he hears you say, “Bye.”

It’s a good start.

He waits on stage for the play to begin with the rest of the floor crew. Over the speakers, Chan is playing different songs for the opening, and over the comms, he’s suggesting that he play one of his mixtapes. Neither Ms. Park or Mr. Gi agree apparently. A few minutes later, the actors, now all dressed in their costumes, are called onto stage for warm ups. In the meantime, the two house managers are sneaking looks outside into the hall outside the lobby and reporting back how many people are waiting. It’s turning out to be a lot.

Before the doors officially open, there’s a quick pep talk from both the director and tech director to everyone. Jisung studies the way you listen attentively and admires the slight curve on your lips as the director praises all their hard work. Your cheeks are tinged with pink with excitement, and you look restless. You repeatedly smooth out the pleats in your dress. Jisung scowls as he sees Hyunjin place a hand on your wrist mid motion and whisper something to you. You stop and flash him an apologetic grin. Goodness, he was controlling. Why doesn’t he just let you be you?

The show begins soon after, and you wait in the wings for your entrance in scene three. You, Yeji, and Yuna quietly talk amongst one another, which means Jisung can’t hear anything from where he is. Ryujin joins in at some point, and Jisung inches closer to eavesdrop, feigning the need to reorganize the already neatly arranged set pieces and props. He learns nothing substantial — it’s mostly just pre-show jitters talk — but at least you don’t jump when he brushes against you while switching around the swords.

You eventually make your appearance on stage, and there’s one audible cheer from the audience when you walk in. Hyunjin, who is now in the wings, quietly says, “Woo!” from his spot, which is unfortunately near Jisung’s usual waiting location.

“Oh, hey, Jisung,” he greets. He’s so flushed with adrenaline from performing in front of many people for the first time that he seems to have forgotten a tiny detail about their tenuous friendship: they hate each other, and said friendship does not exist. “Did you see how many people were in the audience? Wow, I can’t believe it.”

Changbin momentarily perks up at “Wow,” but he resumes reviewing the cues from his binder, leaving Jisung to deal with him alone. Both Yugyeom and Ryujin are on their phones, their faces lit up by their screens. Ryujin even has one earbud in.

“It’s the most famous play in the world. Of course, there’s going to be a lot of people,” he finally answers.

Hyunjin is in too good of a mood to be miffed by his rude tone. “Ah, you’re right. But still, that’s a lot of people. There’s so many eyes looking at you, it’s kind of weird.”

He could have said nothing, but he’s feeling extra mean towards Hyunjin today. “Are you nervous that you’ll mess up? It’s understandable if you do though since this is your first show.”

“I wish I was like Y/N,” he sighs. “She’s so good. You know, she said she gets so immersed in the play that her stage fright just kind of fades away.”

“Yeah, she told me, too,” he lies. It’s another competition: who does Y/N confide in more?

“I’m glad she’s Juliet. She’s perfect for the part.”

The sappiness in Hyunjin’s voice drips like slime, and Jisung’s top lip involuntarily curls up in disgust. Jisung knows he’s a lovesick fool, but he’s a much more classy one than him. He decides to end it there, so Hyunjin will shut up, and Jisung won’t get the urge to pummel him into the ground. They fall into silence, and the lights later go out when the scene ends.

During Romeo and Juliet’s kisses during the party scene, there’s gasps, cheers, and applause from the audience. It’s not real — he can see Hyunjin’s hand blocking your face — but he still shifts around in his seat. The close proximity between you two means that even a slight stumble would result in an actual kiss. Scenes like these are the only times Jisung prays that Hyunjin is a good actor for once and doesn’t mess up.

Normally, you just blush during the scene, but with the extra noise, you shake a bit when you say your next line. Jisung’s annoyance grows.

Because it’s a show and because he doesn’t want Mr. Gi to rip him into shreds, he promises himself to focus on the play, but it all goes out the window when you have a costume change. You curse when your pin snags your hair, and he instinctively goes over. His hand reaches for the pin, and you shrink when he hovers above you.

When he hands you the offending object, you politely thank him and then grab your dress from the rack. When you start unzipping the side of your costume, he turns away and replays the moment. There’s a new aura about you, and he doesn’t like it. Ever since you started close with Hyunjin, he has noticed that the radiance he fell in love with is slipping away. Normally you would joke about the incident to him or chat with him while waiting for your cues. He hasn’t even had a real conversation with you in days.

“Hey, Y/N,” he says. His back is still facing you, but he can feel the vibrations on the floor when you step into your dress.

“Hi,” you hesitantly reply.

“We haven’t talked in a while.”

“We’ve both been busy with the play.”

He almost rolls his eyes. You’ve been busy with flirting with Hyunjin, and he’s been busy with the play. Yet he still makes time for you. “Yeah, I guess. Are you nervous about performing today?”

“A little bit.”

“Did you ever give back Hyunjin’s hoodie?” he asks as nonchalantly as he can. He already knows the answer though; he saw it hanging from the back of your chair in the classroom.

You sound amused, but he can sense the irritation underneath. “I think this is the third day in a row that you’ve asked me that.”

“Well?”

“Yes.”

“Liar.”

You don’t reply to him. Instead you call for Ryujin to help you with your mussed up hair, so Jisung leaves the scene. He catches you staring at him, and you quickly look away. It’s not a shy “Is he looking at me?” stare; it’s a repulsed “What’s wrong with him?” one.

The answer is you. You are what’s wrong with him. You hardly acknowledge his presence anymore, and you only pay attention to Hyunjin. What about him? He’s been there for you since the very beginning, but as soon as Hyunjin starts encroaching on his territory, he’s forgotten. The longer he keeps thinking about it, the angrier he gets. His hands start twitching for something to hit, and he decides on the rolling platform next to him. There’s a loud, satisfying thwack followed by a few confused looks.

He doesn’t care.

Just another week, he tells himself. Before he never has to see this play or Hyunjin again.

During intermission, he sits by himself while the other cast and crew members go into the audience to talk with their friends who came to see the preview. You have a whole crowd of people around you, asking questions about the wretched kisses. He sees you repeatedly shaking your head, but that doesn’t stop anyone.

A similar thing happens when the show ends. After the bows and applause, you stick around in the audience to let your friends discuss the play with you. Jisung joins Chan, Jeongin, and Seungmin in the back of the house to listen in and to sit on Jeongin’s cushy rolling chair. Chan is still arguing about playing his mixtape over the speakers with Mr. Gi.

“There’s hardly anyone here anymore,” he protests. “And it’s like this one, too,” he says, referring to the current song playing.

Jisung fiddles with the knobs on the light board while straining to hear your conversation a few rows down. He surreptitiously turns down the volume of the music when Chan reaches for his phone.

He can catch a few key phrases said by your friends. He then wishes he could kick everyone out of the auditorium, so he can never hear, “Did you and Hwang Hyunjin kiss for real this time?” again. You say that you’re tired of replying to that particular question, but you seem too pleased by the prospect of kissing Hyunjin to actually be. Hyunjin, who is not too far away, is no different; he turns bashful when his friends ask, “Did you and L/N Y/N actually kiss?”

Jisung turns the volume back up, and his fingers “accidentally” slip, blasting the auditorium with the screech of a violin. Everybody winces, and he apologizes. No one starts leaving though.

At long last, they are dismissed for the day. There’s another pep talk about opening night, but no one’s really listening. They’re allowed to leave two hours earlier than normal, but Jisung feels more drained than usual. You’re the opposite. He passes you on his way to the prop room, and you’re talking animatedly with Yuna about the cast and crew dinner after the final show. Even as you head up the stairs, there’s a bounce in your step.

When he returns from his trip, you’re already inside the classroom, standing over Hyunjin, who is sitting down. There are other people in the room, but he can’t bring himself to go in. He hasn’t had the outside-looking-in feeling in a long time, but it hits him at full force right there. The two of you are both wearing the black cast and crew shirts, but they somehow look different from the one Jisung’s wearing, like it’s a deliberate couples outfit instead of a uniform for theater.

Hyunjin gazes at you like an astronomer would at the stars, and you have an identical expression on. Your lips move, but Jisung can’t make out the words. A soft smile spreads across Hyunjin’s face, and he absentmindedly winds a dangling lock of your hair with his index finger. You don’t flinch at the motion at all, but instead mirror Hyunjin’s smile. Jisung watches with bated breath and wonders when you got so bold. What happened to the girl who was too shy to stage kiss? Now you were being disgustingly close with your co-star off stage.

People start filing out of the room to go home. Soon, there’s no one but the two of you. You’re still mumbling, and Hyunjin’s replying at the same volume. Jisung still can’t move his legs to walk in. He could easily pop the bubble you and Hyunjin are in, but he’s frozen to his spot.

Hyunjin suddenly stands up, making you take a step back. Jisung can hear the hitch of your breath from where he is; that’s how surprised you are. Hyunjin then cups your face with his hands, but he’s not practicing a stage kiss. He places his forehead against yours, and your eyelids flutter close. You tilt your chin up and slowly wrap your hands around his wrists. At the same time, he lowers his lips to yours.

Jisung can’t breathe, and silence swallows the white noise around him. A million thoughts fill his head, but the single image of you and Hyunjin kissing is burned in his memory. He’s numb, then cold, then hot. It’s only a few seconds, but it feels like several lifetimes to him. His whole body starts shaking uncontrollably, and when he blinks, his vision has a crimson filter over it. He wants spilled blood, shattered ribs, shallow gasps.

Hyunjin is the first to separate. He looks stunned by what he just did, and he’s even more so when you pull him in for a second one. It’s longer and deeper, and when the two of you finally resurface for air, you’re flustered. You nervously lick your lips and squeak at the implication. Hyunjin softly laughs and hugs you close to his chest. He’s beaming, and you’re burying your face into his t-shirt.

Blood thrums in Jisung’s ears. He can hear his heartbeat, its erratic thumping and skipped beats. Meanwhile, the pretty, delicate image he has of you contorts into an ugly, slashed counterfeit painting. He hates you so much. As much as Hyunjin, maybe more. He gave you everything he could, and this is how you treat him.

His rage melts the ice at his feet, but instead of walking inside to confront the problem, he goes to his refuge, the restroom. Thankfully, everyone has gone home for the day, and no one is present. He screams bloody murder and kicks all the stall doors until the bangs echo throughout the room. He hates you, he hates you, he hates you. How can you betray him like that? With Hyunjin, his sworn enemy? You are as good as dead to him.

His reflection shows that he has the eyes of a feral animal, but he doesn’t even care anymore. He storms to the classroom to collect his belongings, disregarding how disheveled he looks. No one else is in the room, and he’s a little disappointed that you or Hyunjin can’t see what you’ve done to him. When he heads out to the parking lot, you and Hyunjin are sitting close to each other while you wait for your parents to pick you up. He glares daggers in your direction and flings open the driver’s door of his car.

Just one week, he tells himself. Before he never has to see you or Hyunjin ever again.

~ ad.gray

[luninosity]

Okay, I’d already had the idea, so I couldn’t resist! One final @whumptober2020 ficlet (so...extra completion, I guess? :D ) for theme 30 (because I’d forgotten I’d already done that one!) NOW WHERE DID THAT COME FROM? prompt: Ignoring an Injury

This one’s in the Character Bleed universe! It’s a Sam/Leo story, set sometime in the future...

#

Sam had seen a decent amount of television, and a decent amount of science fiction. He’d even seen a few episodes of this particular show, though not one in which Leo’s amoral space villain character popped up.

 He waited very quietly where he’d been told to wait, out of the way behind cameras. He gazed at the movie set. They were filming in Ireland, in a wild jumble of dark rocks and crashing waves that’d stand in for an alien planet. Sam had never been to Ireland, or on a movie set, before.

 Before Leo Whyte. Before kisses like rainbows, and brightly-colored teacups appearing in the morning, and the way Leo’s eyes warmed, green and brown shifting like shyly happy sand, every time Sam took his hand.

 Dating an actor wasn’t without complications. Leo spent more money on new couch pillows than Sam had spent on an entire couch, and generously offered to pay for Sam’s whole family to visit London, and genuinely had no idea how to navigate a supermarket. Leo wasn’t Colby Kent levels of famous, but was recognizable enough that cameras popped up at airports and restaurants, and only the day before Sam had stepped to the side while Leo smiled and took pictures, as requested, with a group of fans who’d spotted them in a Reykjavik bookshop. That’d taken at least twenty minutes.

 He watched Leo and the other actors get into position, crashed spaceship behind them. The male lead, the counterpart to Leo’s delightfully over-the-top petulant wickedness, said something that made Leo laugh, a joke or a comment. They were all dressed in tattered post-crash versions of science fiction extravagance, colorful and quirky. Leo’s long coat billowed in Icelandic wind; he glanced across rocks and cameras toward Sam, and waved enthusiastically before flopping down into rubble.

 Dating an actor might be complicated. But dating Leo Whyte made Sam’s whole world more wonderful. Bigger. Way more full of rainbows. He wouldn’t be anywhere else.

 He stayed out of the way. No one minded him being on the set—in fact, the director had been enthused about Leo’s photographer boyfriend dropping by, especially after Sam’s portraits of Colby Kent and Jason Mirelli’d had such an impact, and had said it’d be an honor if Sam wanted to document some of the filming process—but Sam was also very aware that he knew next to nothing about the intricacies of television production.

 He had been capturing moments all week, and he’d happily contribute to a behind-the-scenes book. He was honestly amazed to have been asked, and asked in that tone of voice. He was still getting used to people knowing his name.

 They began rolling. Leo’s character woke up first, struggling upright. He’d been responsible for sabotaging the ship, of course; but he had not planned for an outright crash.

 He gazed around: at broken rocks, at a split-open ship hull, at flung bodies of companions. His expression changed; his whole posture changed. So many emotions ran through hazel eyes, lingered in the tip of his head, the set of his shoulders. He could escape. He could finish off his sworn enemy. He could try to contact his evil minions, back with the fleet.

 Leo was so good at embodying a character, Sam thought. So brilliant. So talented. So much nuance. So amazing.

 And his chest and body and even fingertips glowed, despite chilly wind: that was his boyfriend, being a genius.

 Leo—clearly still shaken from the crash—staggered to the body of that adversary, that equal. The hero. Injured—badly so, a skewer of metal through his stomach—and bleeding, unconscious. At his mercy.

 Leo, in character, dropped to both knees. Looked at the hero; looked at the blood; looked at the rocks, his own hands, the pouch at his belt that held poisons, communications arrays, sonic weapons. They’d fought each other and challenged each other and taunted each other for years, in the course of the show, on and off: a relationship fraught and crackling with intensity.

 Leo’s character had studied energy transference, vital forces, psychic powers. He put out a hand. Rested it on the dying hero’s chest. No other characters, no companions, had stirred yet, though they would momentarily, on cue.

 Special effects wizardry would transform the moment, Sam knew. But he looked at Leo’s face: calm, making a choice, no hesitation.

 The wounds should fade. Vanishing. Healing.

 Transferred.

 They did not cut—the visual effects would handle the vanishing—but let the scene play out. The hero gasped in a breath, woke, sat up easily. Took in the situation with rapid-fire intellect. Spun to glare at Leo’s villain, who was now leaning back insouciantly against a broken piece of spaceship, arms crossed.

 Leo just smiled. The hero demanded, “Don’t just stand there, be useful!” and pushed himself to his feet. “Shouldn’t expect anything else, should I…”

 “No.” Leo didn’t move. “Why would I help you?”

 “You’re still here. Why didn’t you run?”

 “Perhaps my plan requires my presence. Shouldn’t you assist your minions?”

 “They’re companions!” But he was, even as he scowled at Leo some more. “Just stay out of the way.”

 Leo gave an ironic small salute. The main cast pretended to come to, waking up, groaning, checking on each other. Discussions began happening: where they’d landed, repairs, what to do next.

 Leo, with no one paying him any mind, slid a hand inside his shirt, between fasteners. His fingers came away red; he looked at them for a moment, then buttoned his coat, dark and tight, over the shirt. Hiding the wound. Concealing the layers of emotion.

 Sam, watching, felt his heart speed up. Of course it was the character, of course he felt for the character—but it was Leo too, his Leo, beautiful and wounded and exhausted, and nobody’d ever know how much he’d just done, the pain he’d taken, for a man who’d sworn to fight him…

 Leo’s face was aware of all of that, in that second. And Sam, despite knowing it was fictional, ached for him. Hated everyone who’d ever made him lonely. Loathed the blood on Leo’s hand, under the shirt.

 Leo looked up as the good characters all turned his way, and said brightly, “Come to a glorious optimistic decision, have we?”

 “Be quiet for once,” grumbled the angriest of the companions, “prisoners don’t get to talk. We’re taking you to the Time Authority.”

 “Ah, a plan. I shall look forward to seeing how you’ll manage it, with no working transport or communications.” Leo held out both wrists for binders, ironic. “Lead on.”

 They began to walk, just enough for the shot; Leo stumbled. Caught himself, bound hands lingering against a chunk of ship for support, for an instant. “Sorry, just a rock, terribly treacherous, aren’t they?”

 “You’d know about treacherous,” said the hero, quiet and frustrated and not knowing anything of what had happened moments ago; and he caught Leo’s shoulder. “Come on.”

 They took a few more steps. And cut there.

 Sam sagged into his chair, worn out by emotion. And he was only watching. Christ.

 They did it all again, and again. Four times. Five. Leo was brilliant every time: dry and clever with dialogue, and silently profoundly compassionate, in a complicated and selfish way, when kneeling beside his adversary. Transferring the injury, letting himself bleed for the man he loved and battled and hated and was drawn to; and saying nothing about it, knowing they’d all believe he simply didn’t want to lift a finger.

 Six times, and they were done; they’d have a bit of a break while moving to the next location, the corner of a fortress in black rock and whipping winds. Leo wriggled hands out of prop binders, waved at cast-mates, and ran over to Sam. “What’d you think?”

 “I think you’re amazing.” He caught both of Leo’s hands, laughing; he leaned into the kiss. “So much emotion. Your expression—I mean, wow.”

 Leo’s whole face brightened. He loved compliments, and rarely believed them, Sam knew: a hell of a lot of self-doubt hid under on-set pranks and kitten-adoption events. “It worked, then? I did think it went well, but then again I never feel like I know for sure. And it’s been some time since my last appearance. I was worried about getting back into the rhythm.”

 “I felt it all. And I’m not even caught up with the show.” Sam glanced at Leo’s fingers, at a smudge of fake blood. Some of it had soaked through his shirt, and the coat. “It felt…real.”

 And for a second, a split second, it did. He knew it wasn’t—he knew—but he’d said it aloud, and he could see the red, and he’d just watched Leo stumble and trip and stagger with pain, and it’d looked so…

 “Oh, Sam.” Leo’s hands tightened around his, grip made of fingerless gloves and affection. “Thank you for the lovely praise, and I shall try not to let it feed my ego? What does one feed an ego? Is it like an eagle? Sort of carnivorous, and rather dangerous? I expect it could be, if one pushes the metaphor. Would you like tea?”

 Sam, who knew exactly how Leo’s brain worked by now—the steps might not be obvious but made perfect sense, from bashful deflection to silly word-association to surprisingly insightful philosophy to making sure other people were taken care of and well-fed, both in terms of comfort and tea—said, “I love you, you know.” He did.

 “I love you, and I love it when you say nice things to me.” Leo batted eyes at him, long-lashed and weightless. That was a joke, one that covered up absolute sincerity. “I’m glad I managed to make it believable. I’m obviously not at all presently being skewered by a spaceship section, not even a magically transferred invisible one, so it’s a bit difficult to act, in that sense.”

 “Yeah,” Sam said. “I’m glad you’re not being skewered.” He held Leo’s hand; they wandered toward craft services and a tea break, over scattered rocks, through slicing wind. Sam’s own coat was cozy and thick; he nearly asked whether Leo wanted it. That outfit couldn’t be very warm.

 A personal assistant ran up. Thrust a blanket, large and woolly, Leo’s way. Leo took it and managed to transform it into a swooping fashion statement, a bundle of plaid and protection, and thanked her as she bounced off to continue blanket-deliveries elsewhere. Sam relaxed a little more.

 Leo said, watching his face, “They do keep us warm, you know.”

 “I know.”

 “Are you having thoughts about ways we might warm up back at the hotel? Scented oils in a bathtub? A massage? Fabulous sex while I give you a massage in the bathtub with scented oils?”

 A passing pair of extras, dressed for guard duty at the planetary fortress, froze mid-step and turned wide eyes Leo’s direction. Leo put up a hand and wiggled fingers, a wave. “I’ll see you in a few moments, and you can menace me with those laser spears! Looking forward to it!”

 The taller extra opened his mouth, closed it, and managed, “Us too!” Leo beamed, saluted them, and kept walking.

 “You’re not actually going to die, though,” Sam said. Leo’s fingers were still too cold, in his. He despised the invention of fingerless gloves. “I mean, on the show. They love bringing you back. Though—are you allowed to tell me? Don’t, if you’ll get in trouble.”

 “You and I are such different people,” Leo said cheerfully, and stopped walking just to kiss him. “I love spoilers. I love knowing everything. Especially when no one else knows. But, sadly, it’s not a secret, at least not here on set. No, I’m decidedly not going to die. He’ll choose to let me go. So I can show up again later on. Everybody lives. It’s marvelous.”

 “I like that,” Sam said. “Everybody lives. It’s a good ending.”

 “Even the villain of the story,” Leo said. “Yes.”

 “You’re not the villain. Antagonist, yeah. Anti-hero. But not a villain.”

 “Really?”

 “You save people. Yeah, it’s what you want too, it’s because you need him alive, you’re obsessed, all that. But you still save him, and then you help him, because you know he won’t leave his crew behind, and you want him to be…not happy, exactly, but…out there. Free. For you to find again. So, yeah. Not a villain.”

 “Yes,” Leo said, “yes. That’s what I—thank you. For that.” His eyes were green and brown and pleased as spring.

 “I get to give you a massage later,” Sam said. “And warm you up. You know. While you recover from magically transferred skewerings.” I love you, he meant. I want you warm and happy, underneath me, on top of me, whichever you want, as long as you’re here and laughing and probably making terrible jokes about the size of someone’s laser spear, in bed. I’ll make tea after, if you want. That blend that reminds you of home.

 “All of that sounds splendid,” Leo agreed, clutching a fold of blanket as it started to slip, other hand still in Sam’s. The wind tugged at his hair, ruffling dramatically spiked blond strands. “You know how much I love your hands on me. All over. Every…inch of me.”

 Sam had to grin. Leo Whyte, he thought again. His Leo. Finding a way for Sam to fuss over him, guessing Sam might need to affirm that every last bit of red was only fake, just in case, just to know; and then flipping it all into a sex joke. Ridiculous. Adorable. Perfect.

 He said, “Sounds like a plan, then. I love all your inches.”

[365days365movies]

February 17, 2021: Desert Hearts (Review)

Another late one! School just went fully remote for a couple of weeks, so I had some things to prepare yesterday! Nevertheless, let’s get this underway!

This was a lovely movie. I mean it! While I don’t think it’s overall quality is quite equal to other recent films I’ve seen, this was still a wonderful movie, and one that I’ll definitely be happy to watch again at some point! But OK, it’s not quite equal to other films I’ve seen? I should explain that a little.

Sonce, oh, around The Bridges of Madison County or so, the romantic dramas I’ve been watching have definitely been pretty...intense. Not necessarily negative or positive (well, OK, mostly negative), but a bit, well...dramatic. And this film is definitely a romantic drama...but it’s UCH less intense than those movies. This is legit a romance film that I could leave on in the background while doing something, and look up every one in a while and say, “oh, yeah, it’s this scene. I’ll sit down and watch this for a sec.” Then, knowing me, I’d watch the whole movie again, but you get the point.

This movie is lovely, and it’s going to be one of my favorite romances for the onth (and the chemistry of the two leads deserves my finest chef’s kiss), but...it’s not Brokeback, or Carol, or CMbYN. And did it deserve to be slept on at the Oscars? Well, what was it competing against?

Oh FUCK, is that The Color Purple? YIKES, bruv. OK, what bout Best Actress? Helen Shaver should’ve at least been nominated, so was up for that one?

OH SHIT MERYL

Uhhhhh...OK, Best Director? Donna Dietch did a pretty good job.

OH DEAR SHIT IS THAT AKIRA KUROSAWA???

...Best Adapted Screenplay?

AH FUCK IT’S THE COLOR PURPLE AGAIN

And the worst part is...NONE of those nominees WON those prizes. Yeah, this movie was FUUUUUUCKED. But, still, it’s a cult classic now, so that’s good! But what did I think of it? Well, check out the Recap first for some on-the-fly thoughts; it’s here and here. Otherwise, look out below for the Review!

Review

Cast and Acting: 8/10

OK, before I say anything else, I want to explain why this is an 8/10, rather than anything higher. The reason is because, for the most part, the acting was good...but not perfect. I never really lost sight of the fact that I was watching people perform these lines. It’s hard to explain, but there’s an inherent artificiality to the film. Might be because of the time it was made, might be the direction, but...I dunno, it was somewhat lacking in certain spots for me. Especially as compared to the last several movies, all of whom have been dramatic dynamos. OK? Now...

Helen Shaver and Patricia Charbonneau are great. I mean that, both of them are real good, especially with each other in terms of chemistry. Individually, they may not have been perfect (Charbonneau felt, at certain times, a liiiiiiiiittle forced), but their chemistry was sizzling, and I still enjoyed watching them! Side character actors are mostly fine, but some credit definitely has to be given to Audra Lindley for her turn as Frances. Again, not a perfectly acted role, but emotionally dimensional, and I appreciate that. So, a little mixed here, but good overall!

Plot and Writing: 9/10

This is basically the reverse of Carol, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. In fact, if anything, I like this plot just a little more in some ways. In some ways. It’s funny, because both of these films end with a somewhat ambiguously happy ending, but they get there in wholly different fashions, each of which seems fitting. Anyway, writing in here is done by Natalie Cooper, based off on a 1962 book by Jane Rule, and it’s good! Definitely a very romantic movie all around, and the writing very successfully reflects that intention.

Directing and Cinematography: 8/10

This is Donna Dietch’s first film, and for the record, she has been an out lesbian since this film came out, which is great! I feel like I don’t hear about a lot of LGBT directors, and the fact that she made an LGBT film in 1985 is fantastic. Again, very glad I watched this movie! Anyway, her directorial style isn’t overly apparent, but she definitely knows how to film things romantically. Some of the scenes when Vivian and Cay are together look amazing. Cinematography by Robert Elswit also has something to do with that, and this film overall looks fantastic. It’s not really a Brokeback Mountain in appearance, but it’s still great!

Production and Art Design: 8/10

This one is interesting. Because this film takes place, it turns out, in 1959, and it doesn’t feel that way half the time. I get that I might be too much of a stickler for period authenticity, but if you’re gonna make a period film, then I gotta feel it. Other than that, though, everything and everyone looks pretty good. However, MASSIVE PROPS to whoever figured out Vivian’s outfits and transformation, because that is all GODDAMN EFFECTIVE. They effortlessly and realistically took a repressed academic woman, and turned her into someone who wanted more out of her life and out of love, and didn’t even know it. Some credit to Helen Shaver here, who’s fantastic, but seriously...nice job on wardrobe!

Music and Editing: 7/10

...OK, I may need to reexamine how I examine music on here. I mean, part of this little project is to refine my taste in film, and decide how I judge movies, right? Anyway, the reason I say this is because, well...music was fine, but I wouldn’t put in on my playlist. Which I know I’ve said FAR TOO MANY TIMES, and I should adjust that parameter. But, in my defense, I did put “Quizas, Quizas, Quizas” on my playlist, so I’m not just bluffing with that statement. Anyway, music was basically all preexisting tracks, which is totally fine...but I remember none of it. Like...NONE of it. Editing was fine (done by Robert Estrin), and there were noticeable wipes that never felt jarring or anything, but...yeah, music’s drawing a blank for me. Still, I know it wasn’t bad by any means...just wasn’t memorable for me.

Well, that’s an 80%, but this really was a delightful movie!

Seriously, if my friends are ever in the mood for a more serious (but not drainingly serious) romance, then I’ll throw this one on the table! I’d definitely watch it again. Like I said, it was delightful!

And with that...well, let’s see. Watch two films featuring L, two featuring G, technically B was in there somewhere...Shall we go for a T?

February 18, 2021: The Danish Girl (2015)

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Give love one more chance; Gwilym Lee x reader

*Author’s note*

Hello everyone well I have yet another request that came from my wattpad account and this time the request is all about our lovely mini-Bri Gwilym Lee. Now as a warning THERE IS HEAVY MENTIONS OF CHEATING (not on Gwil’s part but it’s for the back story) and due to that there is angst but I PROMISE FLUFF IS THROUGHOUT MOST OF THIS STORY esp. once the ending comes around. So I hope you all enjoy this little fic and until the next update my darlings :)

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@psychosupernatural​

@waddles03​

@ixchel-9275​

@georgesgentlyweepingguitar​

@queendeakyy​

@geek-and-proud​

@simonedk​

@kairosfreddie​

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I was walking around the main stage set where they would be filming the most iconic scene ever, the Live Aid sequence. I was just in awe at how the stage designers were following everything by the book, from the brick wall patterns, to the posters that hung on them at the time, even some of the paint chipping away.

For those that are curious, the name’s (y/n) (l/n). I’ve been on the road with Queen ever since they started working alongside my best friend, Adam Lambert.  Yep, Adam and I go way back since middle school as a matter of fact.  We were both the awkward kids who no one really paid attention too and loved classic rock, esp. Queen.  When Adam told me he was planning to audition for American Idol, I just couldn’t let him go on alone.

I was his big supporter and went to every live performance cheering him from the sidelines, even helping his team organize and making sure he had everything he needed to his performances.  And even though he was a runner up, he was still a winner in my book.  Then when he came out to me as well as the world about his sexuality, that didn’t change my perspective of him.  I stuck by him because we were the Odd-kids through thick and thin.

Then by 2014 he met up once again with Queen a few years after performing with them back during his season of American Idol and that’s when they offered Adam to be the new leading man for their concerts and thus Queen+Adam Lambert was born.

And then just two years later, Queen officially began to project that was the film ‘Bohemian Rhapsody.’  Adam had invited me along since he had a small little cameo to play and he said that I could potentially have a small role in the film too, but I turned to role down.  I just—never really fit well with a camera’s attention on me.

But here I am as support for Adam as well as Brian and Roger.  Those two men have really become role models and sorta like second dad’s to me in a way. When life got to stressful on the road; Brian always took me aside and the two of us would look at the SaveMe animal videos he had on his website, while Roger was the one with the good therapeutic music to listen to, he even got me into some bands that I never really had the chance to listen too.  Even his former solo band’s ‘The Cross’ music.

“Oh my god. This is beautiful.” It was then I bumped into someone’s back.

“Oh sorry my fault.” We both said at the same time but when I looked up to see just who it was that I had bumped into, I felt like I needed to do a double take because I swear to god I thought I was looking at Brian May at the time of Live Aid.

“Wow you’re gorgeous.” I thought I had said in my head but apparently my lips just had to voice it out loud to him. Embarrassingly I hid my face but I heard the Brian look-alike softly chuckle and he said.

“It’s fine love, I’m flattered, really. Guess I really look the part don’t I?”

“Yeah.” I nervously giggled.

“I’m Gwilym. And as you can probably tell by the wig, I’m playing Brian May in the film.”

“(Y/n). I’m uhh—Adam’s best friend.” God could this be any more humiliating.

“Oh so you’re the one Brian and Roger told us about. The clever roadie.”

“Well I wouldn’t call myself clever. They just flatter me because I work for them.”

“No, no, no. Brian especially talks about how you’ve been able to work on fixing all the AMPS that break down during rehearsal, or knowing when exactly his red special needs a tuning or new string set.” I blushed and that’s when he said, “Oh I’ve gone and rambled making you uncomfortable. I’m so sorry (y/n).”

“It’s fine Gwilym. So is this your first acting gig? Or have you been doing this for a while?”

“I guess you could call me a child actor. My first gig was in a show called Animal Ark, I think I was 13 years old when I auditioned for it. Then after getting my education I dived fully into the acting industry with a few television shows and a few movies. My recent big project was when I was in Midsomer murders, have you heard that show?”

“I think so. My dad was always into British tv more than American tv. Even though he was born in Minnesota.”

“I was only on for only 3 series before I went into some other projects.”

“Well I’d love to see the show sometime. And you said it was called midtown murders?”

“Midsomer, actually.”

“Oh right sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

And that’s kinda what we ended up doing.  We just sat there and talked right up until it was time to start filming.  I wished him good luck and as the actors got into place, I stood beside Roger, Brian’s daughter Emily and Peter “Phoebe” Freestone.  Shortly after the boys entered the stage much like Queen did 31 years Brian came up and sat down beside me and that’s when Rami, who was playing Freddie, set down at the piano and the guys all began to play the full Live Aid set.

As I looked at each of them I knew each of these guys had done their homework.  And seeing them in full costume and shtick, it was like I was actually there at the concert seeing them.  Of course my eyes were especially focused on Gwil who played Brian’s red special with such ease and finesse, it was like I was really watching Brian during the time of Live Aid.

Of course being a Queen fan, I couldn’t help but interact with each song they did, the double handclap for Radio Gaga and We will rock you, following along to the Aye-oh’s, headbanging to Hammer to fall, dancing to Crazy little thing called love, and swaying to We are the champions.

After doing several rehearsals, Dexter finally decided to film the guys for real this time.  And even though it was cold and the guys were probably exhausted, they still managed to perform the whole show once more with even more energy and enthusiasm when the cameras were really recording.  By the end of it all, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.

When I finally came backstage after the guys and some of the crew congratulated them on a job well done, I don’t know why it happened but I couldn’t help but fling myself towards Gwilym and embrace him.

“Seems our Brian look-alike has found his little groupie.” Teased Rami using his Freddie voice.  At that point I backed away and released him.

“Sorry. I just—got a little excited. Seeing you four up there it was like—finally seeing all four members of Queen back together for the first time in a long time.”

“We’re glad you loved it (y/n).” Gwilym said with a soft smile that made butterflies tickle my stomach.

“So you said you love Queen? What’s your favorite song of theirs?” asked the John Deacon look alike, damn much like Gwil, he definitely looked like Deacy, I can see why the casting directors chose him, it was like he was his son or something.

“Oh god well don’t tell them this but it’s definitely Somebody to love.”

“I like her already. We match!” he raised his hand up for a high five which I complied to give him as he introduced himself as Joe Mazzello.

Pretty soon I knew the other two actor’s names, Ben Hardy who was playing Roger, and Rami Malek who was playing the legend himself Freddie Mercury.

*Brian’s POV*

As I watched our genius little roadie chat up with the actors playing us, my mind kept going back to that hug she gave my look-alike.

“I know you saw that right, I mean I maybe blind as a fucking bat but I know my eyes didn’t deceive me on what I just saw.” Roger said as he came up to me.

“Your eyes do not lie Rog. I saw what you saw.”

“You know our girl doesn’t just hug any random guy.”

“Yep. And that shy little gleam in her eyes, dare I say I think our mini-Deacy is in love with my look alike.”

“Not to say I’m happy for her, but I feel like she could’ve chose better.” Roger teased.

“Oh shut it you old tart, you’re just jealous she didn’t pick your actor.”

“Nothing against yours, cause bloody hell it’s like I’m looking at you 30 years ago over there.” I softly chuckle. Yeah they definitely casted the perfect actor to play me, and seeing Gwilym with the wig on its…..mind boggling (although I had to slightly adjust the wig a bit) but other than that he was perfect. “So, shall we go and confront her about it?”

“Now hold on Rog, you know how she gets when she’s being fully confronted. She’ll completely shut down. Let’s—wait it out. See what happens, and then we’ll see if this is something to discuss with her. But it’ll be on my terms.”

“You just wanna suck the joy out of everything.” I shook my head at Roger’s statement before turning back towards (y/n) and Gwilym.  Seeing the two of them talking and laughing with each other warmed my heart.  Because ever since we’ve met her, (y/n) has been the best roadie we’ve ever had.  She’s always on top of every sound and light equipment we’ve got, she knows how Adam likes his speakers to sound and she’s even clever enough to see when I need a new string set on my guitars or when Roger’s kit needs a tuning because of a loose screw that might’ve happened while unloading.

But for whatever reason she sometimes puts herself down, claiming that she’s not all what we’ve both told her she is. That she’d rather just remain invisible, and I can understand some of her pain because I’ve been there myself with my own self-doubt and insecurities.  So I hope that if her and Gwilym do somehow manage to form a relationship, he could probably help her see that she is more than she seems.

*My POV*

After a couple weeks of being on set, Gwil and I were definitely spending a lot of time together and every time we got the chance to hang out, we’d talk about our lives or love of Queen.

“So you and Adam Lambert really knew each other that long?” he asked me.

“Yep. It just happened one day during lunch, I was the new kid in town and I feared no one wanted to hang out with me so I ended up eating in the courtyard by myself when Adam, all donned up with his green dyed stripped bangs introduced himself and we’ve been friends ever since.”

“So he was even extravagant even back then.”

“Yep. Then when we found out we both had a love for Queen, he refused to let me out of his life afterwards, cause I was the only friend he had that liked or even knew who Queen were.”

“Wait are you serious?”

“Dead serious. It’s hard to find people to talk about classic rock with when all they cared about was the rap music or Britney Spears. Or spice girls.”

“Wow.”

“So how did you come to know Queen’s music?”

“You’ll have to thank my old brother. He had basically almost every single Queen record there was, one day I heard him play Bohemian Rhapsody and I was curious. And I guess you could say the rest is history.”

“Well then your brother gets an A+ from me for good music taste.”

“So how is it touring with Queen and Adam?”

“Well I’ve toured with Adam for so long it just feels like a normal hang out day for us. Once he got the offer to tour with Queen themselves it was like not only meeting my role models but they became family to us. Brian and I have a common love for animals, so much so that I’ve become a daily donor to his SaveMe organization.”

“Hey Gwilym. They’re ready to start filming.” One of the producers came up.

“Well that’s my cue, see you after?”

“You bet.” We stood up and I went ahead and sat down at one of the chairs and watched as the guys did the performance for a Japan concert.  I’ll admit even with the 70’s silk/satin angel shirt that he was wearing, he still looked pretty handsome and he sure was a brilliant guitarist if I do say so myself.

“I see what you’re doing.” Adam’s sing-song voice whispered in my ear.  I came out of my daze and whispered to him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh don’t play dumb with me dearie. I have eyes I’m not blind.” I shook my head and went back to paying attention to the guys now doing Brian’s song ’39.  I clapped along with the song and softly sung the words (cause out of every song Bri had written, this was definitely my #1 fav.)  When Dexter called cut, I suddenly felt myself being dragged away and soon found myself in a closet of sorts.

“Adam what the fuck is the matter with you?”

“Well would you rather talk about this out there where everyone can hear, potentially your secret lover too?” I immediately covered his mouth with my hand and I hissed at him as I shushed him.

“Shh! Shh! Speak louder why don’t you I don’t think they heard all the way from Glasgow!” I then retracted my hand in disgust as I felt him actually lick my palm. “Why must you do that?”

“Cause I know it annoys you.” He shrugged.

“You can be such an asshole sometimes Lambert.”

“Yeah but you always stick around me dearie.” He said smugly as he leaned up against the wall of the closet crossing his arms. “Now as I was saying back there, you’re really starting to get attached to Brian’s mini-him aren’t you?”

“No!” I snapped abruptly.  He quirked his brow at me before I cleared my throat and said. “No, we’re just friends is all Adam. In fact if you keep going down this path, I might just replace you with him.”

“That hurts (n/n), that really hurts.” He mocked in pain as he placed his hand over his heart and gave me the puppy dog pout. “But girl c’mon for realzies, what’s up with you?”

“Nothing is up, okay can you just drop it? Now if you’ll excuse me Gwilym and I are due for a coffee break.” I walked out of the closet and stormed out trying to get my mind off of what Adam was hinting.  As I was walking, I soon came up to Gwilym and when he saw me he smiled and I tried to calm my anger down as I approached him calmly.

“You okay (y/n)?”

“Yeah, yeah why would you say that?”

“Just—for a moment it looked like you were pissed at something.”

“Oh nothing you need to worry about, so you free for some coffee and catering? I know you’ve got a long day ahead of you, might not be a bad idea to have a good lunch.”

“Great because I had to skip breakfast when my alarm failed to wake me up this morning.”

“Well then we better hurry. We need food stat, can’t have one of the four Queen members perform on an empty belly.” We then raced over towards the catering and got us some food and coffee.

When we got it and was now walking through the studio where they were now setting up the Madison Square Garden set just opposite of where the Japan stage was earlier this morning.

“Wait so that actually happened?” asked Gwilym.

“He tries to deny it and blames it on the poor lighting the camera had but don’t be fooled. His son Rufus told me the whole story of how it happened.”

“I can’t believe he made his hair green.”

“His hair was already blonde as it was, he’s lucky it didn’t make his hair bleach blonde.”

“Well that’s not as funny as Joe thinking he’ll be able to wash out that perm he got.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa he thinks what now?”

“Yeah Joe thinks that in the next week or two it’s gonna grow out and go back to normal.”

“Oh my god Joey!” I laughed.

“Like just the other night we were all out in the pub the four of us and he was chatting away to a girl with his Yankees cap on. So I went up and flipped the hat off and said as I pointed to his hair ‘he’s got a perm’!” I couldn’t help but laugh hysterically.

“You are so bad.”

“Yeah. Bad wingman but good friend.” I continued laughing which turned into giggles.

“Ahh Joey, Joey, Joey, Joey.”

“GAHH SON OF A BITCH!!!” we both heard someone call out.

“Uh-oh.” I said as Gwil and I looked at each other and set out stuff aside on a nearby table before racing across the studio and I asked. “What happened?”

“Damn circuits in these lights shocked me and now I can barely feel my hand anymore.” Said one of the light engineers.

“Okay, okay here let me see it.” I walked up to him and held his hand in both of mine.  There was some slight swelling but I thankfully no serious burn marks. “Well good news is, is that there’s no serious burn marks. But it is swollen red. I suggest some ice and rest for the rest of the day. And get a medic to check out your reflexes in case the shock might’ve nulled your muscles.”

“But we need another light technician to help us raise these lights for the Madison Square Garden set.” Said a female volunteer.

“You’re looking at your spare one. Besides I’ve spent my whole life with Roger and Brian to know how they want MSG to look. Now, what’s your name?” I turned to the guy who got shocked.

“Arnold.”

“Arnold, go see a medic about your injury and take the rest of the day off. Anyone asks or has a problem with it, send them my way, okay?”

“Okay, thank you.” He said with a slight smile before heading out to the medics trailer.

“Okay now what exactly are we dealing with here?” I asked the seven other light technicians.

“Well we’re trying to make sure all these lights intersect with each other so that they can change colors like they do at the real MSG. Arnold was working on the main circuit board to work the code in when it backfired and you heard what happened as the result.”

“Okay well first things first it could’ve been prevented if he were wearing gloves, rookie mistake.” I then took out my gloves that I always keep on me in my back pocket and put them on. “Goggles.” I said as I extended my arm out and someone handed me some spare goggles.  Once I had them on I proceeded to work.

I called out for various equipment pieces like the 4 in 1 Podger rachet, a Leatherman supertool, and some batteries. Once I had the main board opened I began working on finding the loose circuit that probably caused Arnold’s shocking surprise because that needed to be fixed immediately.

Using a mini-flashlight I managed to find the area and found the problem.

“Okay I see the problem. Can someone hold the flashlight for me?”

“I got it.” Said one of the female volunteers as she came up and took the flashlight from me and I went right to work on the wires, making sure they were tucked in correctly and un exposed.  It took some time but by the end of it all, I punched the code that was needed for the lights to turn on.

“There, that should do it.” I said as I took my gloves off and removed my goggles.

“Okay boys raise her up!” called the main lighting technician and soon the lights were raised up.  Then using his phone, he activated the lights and they soon began shining into a red and blue pattern that would go along with the orange, yellow and green pattern.  The light technicians clapped and thanked me for the assistance and when I turned to Gwil, he just had this awed look on his face.

“Sorry you had to see that. Whenever I hear a technical problem I just gotta jump in.”

“Well I’m glad you did. I was amazed to see how you were able to work all that out.”

“Oh it’s not that hard. All I had to do was just tighten the circuits and then replace the batteries while also—oh there I go again. My tech ramblings again, sorry if I’m boring you Gwilym you don’t need to hear all that.”

“No, no, no it’s genius. I mean back when I was doing theater in secondary and university, I never really had a good grasp on the tech theater side of it even though I was trying my best.”

“Not everyone does. I was the only one who took the class seriously back in high school. Everyone else rather just look at their magazines or porno books. Don’t ask me how they snuck it in.”

“Wow, well thankfully they had you to take it seriously.”

“Uh-huh.” I said sadly as I looked down and rubbed my wrist nervously.

“(Y/n)?”

“Hmm?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just—thinking back.”

“Anything you’d…..like to share? I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

“Thank Gwilym but I don’t wanna bore you with my life. C’mon let’s get back to our food before you’re needed on set again.” I said as I walked away and went back to my donuts and Cinnabons.  Gwil followed behind me and began to eat his celery and carrots as well as drinking his coffee, as we ate I tried my best to avoid eye contact with him up until I finished my things and tossed them in the bin before heading out.

Making an excuse that Bri and Rog had texted me saying that they wanted to talk about the lighting and sound for their next concert.

Later that night as everyone was packing up to do some of the outdoor scenes like Adam’s big cameo appearance, I found myself standing away from the set just staring up at the night sky.

“Penny for your thoughts?” I looked up to see Gwil coming by to sit beside me in the spare chair where Adam was just sitting at before he went to hair and makeup.

“Just—taking in the sky.” He looked up and he said.

“It’s a full moon out tonight.”

“Yep. The one time for a straight week where the tides are stronger and can sometimes have an effect on the human mind.”

“Quite the philosopher you are.”

“Well I did minor in it in college. My major was in electrical engineering.”

“So not only good with your hands but also a brilliant mind in philosophy as well. No wonder why Brian calls you the mini-Deacy.” I smiled briefly.

“The reason why I know about the full moon is because of him. He did give me a little lecture on astronomy. But I’d be lying if I didn’t have a fascination with space already. Just—never could understand the specific science talk it came with.”

“I hear yah. When I was a kid; my brother and I would go out to the backyard and we’d just look up at the stars and make as many pictures with them as we could. Sometimes we even stayed out all night. Worried my mum to no end.”

“I think it’d worry me too if my kids ended up staying outside in the cold night with no blankets or a tent to sleep in.” we turned to look at each other and once again Gwil had this awed look on his face, just like he did this afternoon. “What is it?”

“Nothing it’s just…..” he trailed off.

“Just what?”

“Your eyes.”

“M—my eyes?”

“They….they sparkle underneath the moonlight. Almost like they were two stars themselves.” I was speechless.  I felt my heart race and my face beginning to heat up.  I turned away probably blushing as red as an apple right now.  I felt Gwil’s hand gently go on top of mine, before intertwining them together which made me look up at him.  It was then I saw him lean closer towards me, his forehead pressing against mine while his nose gently brushed up against mine.

At this point I could hear my heart racing in my ears as the smell of his cologne sent me into a hypnotic state.  I felt his hand cup the side of my face as he faintly whispered.

“So beautiful.” But just before he could kiss me, Joe’s voice could be heard from a mile away.

“YO GWIL WHERE ARE YAH!? WE’RE ABOUT TO START FILMING!!!”

“If this is payback for the pub he’s so gonna get it.” I heard him mutter angrily.  He turned back towards me and he said, “Sorry love.”

“It’s okay.” I strained out. “Just, just, just, just go film your scenes for the night.” I said as I crossed my arms over me protectively and looked down.  I couldn’t look at him, I just couldn’t find the strength to do so.  I then heard him walk away and that’s when the tears started pouring down.

I took off running to the nearest place I could find.  I didn’t even bother to look and see what it was, all I wanted to know was that I could be alone and that I could cry to myself in peace.  I collapsed to the floor on my butt and tucked my legs up into my chest and began to softly cry.

I don’t know how long I was crying in wherever I was for but it was then I heard the door open and soon coming in was Adam and Rami.

“(Y/n)?” Adam said surprised.  I felt myself being torn down as I had finally been revealed. I must’ve came into the hair and makeup trailer and now that they were probably calling it quits, everyone would soon come in and see me crying my eyes out.

“(Y/n) you okay?” Rami asked.

“Hey uhh Rami could you give us a moment alone? Maybe guard the door so that no one comes in just yet?”

“Yeah, yeah sure thing.” I heard the door shut and that’s when I saw Adam sit down in front of me.  I looked up at him to see him in the truck driver get up with the full beard and long haired wig.

“You were right. Okay you wanna hear me say it Adam Lambert?! You were right! I’m in love with Gwilym Lee!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa okay. Okay. Calm down, calm down.” He said as he cautiously reached forward and gently gripped my arms in his hands. “I’m happy you finally came to terms with it dearie, that’s great news actually. But what’s got you so upset?”

“For Christ sake Adam tell me you didn’t forget about the bullying I had to endure all throughout middle and high school! And Jared!” at the mention of the boy’s name his eyes widened and he said.

“Okay hold on, wait just a damn second. Gwilym is nowhere near what that dick Jared was. I’ve seen the two of you together and he makes you happier way more than what Jared did.”

“Well Jared made me happy until he did what he did!” I looked down at my knees and continued lowly, “Oh Adam. I thought I could just keep up a friendship with Gwilym, but now I—” I trailed off as more sobs came up my throat as I choked out, “Now I…..I wish I never came here!” I then broke down once more.

I felt Adam sit close beside me before he wrapped his arms around me bringing me into his chest and kissing my forehead as he rubbed my back in soothing circles and stroked down my hair.

Once I calmed down after what felt like crying all night, Adam took me out of the trailer and already I could see a crowd of people including Gwil standing around asking all sorts of questions at seeing me.

“Guys please. No questions are necessary and please don’t ask me because I won’t answer them either. What was said in the trailer stays between (y/n) and me.” Adam made a clear statement before finally taking me away to find Brian or Roger.

When we finally came across Roger, he soon got protective and asked.

“What happened?”

“Roger could you just take (y/n) back to the hotel, I’ll explain later.”

“Alright, come with me lovie.” I was soon switched out from Adam’s arms to Roger’s and he guided me towards his car.  He helped me into the backseat where I could hide away while he drove us back to the hotel.

I was now in my room lying on my bed hiding under the blankets after just spending a long time under the hot water trying to get rid of the memories of Jared.

You see—I had met Jared during the first collaboration with Adam and Queen.  He was actually one of Brian’s roadies and helped set up all of Brian’s AMPS.  We had a common love for electronics and gradated with the same major even being an ocean apart.  We shortly began dating afterwards and were madly in love.

But when a serious accident caused him to take an early retirement from being on the road since the damage had been done to his lower back.  Which left me to go on the road with Queen and Adam, but we still kept in touch.

Fast forward to just a year ago after four years of dating, I began to wonder if there was gonna be a future with the two of us together.  So one day after we had gotten done with a tour, I get a text from Jared saying that the next night he wanted to meet me at the very restaurant where we had our first official date at.  Adam of course was thrilled thinking that a proposal was in the horizon so he helped me get dolled up the next morning (even with him being completely jetlagged) and I met Jared at our restaurant.

I was trembling with anxiety but also with joy. He took my hand, looked deep into my eyes and that’s when he dropped the bombshell, but it wasn’t what you’d think it was.  Jared had confessed to me in our restaurant where we had our first date, along with many others that he had been cheating on me.

But not just with one woman, not two, not three, but lots of women.  All in the entire span we had been dating.

I refused to listen to anything else he had to say as he tried to defend himself.  But no that’s not the worst part, the worst part of it was, was that the following day (after crying in Adam’s arms all day), Jared came to the stage where Queen and Adam were performing in London and tried to win me back. Saying that it was just a fluck and that he still loved me with all his heart.

He’d constantly tried to call or text me over 100 times a day.  The harassment went on for months till finally I had a restraining order put against him and if he should violate it in the state of England, he’d be arrested. To which he was and was sentenced to five years in jail for refusal to obey the restraining order as well as stalking (yeah he’d stalk me cross country during some of the tours and even snuck backstage and confronted me with arms open and tears rolling down his face).

Ever since then, I’d been afraid to love again because what if they end up being another Jared.  Charming, sweet, noble, funny and charismatic, but the second I turn my back he’d go and sleep with half the women in America. And then make me to be the bad guy because I couldn’t give them a chance to explain why he had to cheat.

I heard a knock at the door and I could only groan as my door soon opened and I felt three separate dips around my bed.

“Adam told us (y/n).” Brian’s voice said. I groaned and buried myself into my pillow.

“You know you’ll suffocate yourself if you do that.” Adam said.

“Better that than dealing with this bitch.” I groaned pitifully.

“C’mon (n/n), come out from under there and look at us.” Roger said. I shot up and glared at him and said.

“There, happy? Goodnight!” before I could collapse back down onto the bed, Adam held me up and trapped me in his arms as he said.

“Stay out here.”

“(Y/n). We know that—you know who really hurt you.” Brian started off.

“Hurt doesn’t even come close to how I felt the day he told me that. God never did I want to kill someone until that day.”

“I don’t blame you, none of us do.” Adam said as he rubbed my back. “But you can’t let what Jared did affect you for the rest of your life.”

“Think it’s already a little too late for that.”

“No it’s not. Because look at what you’ve accomplished since his arrest. The only guys you had a close connection with are me and the guys. Now you’ve become friends with Rami, Ben, Joe and Gwil. And what’s even greater is that you’ve come to accept that you’re starting to have feelings for Gwil.” Adam said.  I looked down and I said.

“How do I know it’ll work out? What if it’s like Jared all over again?”

“You’ll never know unless you go for it.” Roger said. I looked between the three of them but didn’t answer.

“The choice is up to you (y/n). Just make sure that whatever you do decide, you won’t regret it. And just listen to your heart. We’ll support you no matter what you choose.” Brian said as he placed a comforting hand to my shoulder.  I nodded and thanked the guys as they brought me into a group hug.

The next morning I came onto set for the last time (since Adam was done with his cameo, he was needed back at the studio to promote some of his solo stuff, and as his SM manager I needed to be there to spread the word) to confront Gwilym and finally let go of the past (if I could).

I walked around the set till I finally found the person I was searching for.  He was fiddling around with a mock Red special practicing before he would have to film the ‘We will rock you’ scene.  I took a deep breath in before exhaling out and walked towards him.

“Hey Gwil?” he looked up at me and said.

“(Y/n). You’re—you’re still here. I thought you and Adam already left?”

“No, not till tomorrow. I uhh—I wanted to talk to you. About……” I trailed off and that’s when he stood up setting the guitar down and finished my thought.

“About last night?” I nodded. He sighed heavily as he pressed his hands to his face, “I’m really sorry (y/n). I never meant to upset, I was impulsive and stupid to do that. Can we just forget what happened? I was way out of line.”

“Actually Gwilym I—I have something to confess. But can we talk somewhere privately?”

“Of course, we can talk in my trailer. If you’re comfortable with that.” I nodded and soon the two of us headed towards his trailer.

When we got there, he closed the door and I sat down on his sofa while he sat down at one of his chairs and said.

“Okay (y/n), what is it you need to confess?” my leg was bouncing up and down as I tried to formulate the words that I was about to tell him.  I felt the familiar sting of tears in my eyes.

“God I’m sorry.” I choked out.

“No, no, no never feel sorry about this. Please take your time.”

“Last night I—I wasn’t upset because of the, well the about to be kiss. In fact I—I wanted to kiss you too.”

“But.” He stated knowing that I had something else to add on.

“There’s a—reason why I’m so insecure about myself. And—why I haven’t been in a relationship.” I then proceeded to tell him everything.  From the bullies at school, to Jared’s story and how badly he had hurt me. Used me. Treated me like trash.  By the end of it all, Gwil was leaning up against his chair with a heavy expression.

“That son of a—bloody hell. (Y/n) I—I’m so, so sorry you had to go through that hell.”

“Brian, Roger and Adam made it easier on me. After his arrest they allowed me to take some time off from the rest of the tour that I was dealing with to decompress from all that stress. I thought I would never love someone ever again. Until……I met you.” I admitted the last part shyly.

“You—you love me?”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I just—had to get it off my chest. So if I’ve made things awkward between us now, I’m sorry. We don’t have to see each other again.”

“(Y/n), (y/n) (y/n) (y/n) (y/n), (y/n).” Gwil came up and knelt in front of me and held my face in his hands. “Sorry you were starting to ramble on so much I could barely understand you.”

“Sorry. Adam always said I did that whenever I get to anxious. Bad trait of mine.”

“No worries love. Now to put your fears and anxiety aside, I want to tell you that I felt the same way about you. After spending these last few weeks together, I came to know the real you and not just through the stories from Brian and Roger. But now hearing this story, which I commend you for telling me. I know you didn’t have to tell me but you did. And I could go on and on about my feelings for you but to summarize it all up, if you’ll give me a chance. I’ll show you that not all men are like that selfish arsehole. I can be the man you deserve. The one who will treat you right, like you’re the only women left on Earth.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“The only girl I’ll love as much as you is my mum.” I smiled and pressed my forehead against Gwil’s and softly thanked him. “I promise (y/n). You’ll be my clever girl.”

“Think I like the sound of that.”

“Well you better get used to it, because there will be a lot of cute little nicknames in the future.”

“Just as long as you don’t give me any cheesy ones like bunny, or cupcake, or turtledove.”

“Spoil sport. And those were the first three I was thinking of.” I softly laughed as a true genuine smile came across my face. “And there’s that beautiful smile that makes me week at the knees. Next to your eyes, your smile is the brightest thing about you.”

“Gwil stop it you’re making me blush.” He softly chuckled before slowly leaning his lips towards mine and he gave me a soft kiss. When I felt that sudden bolt of electricity shoot up my spine, I knew that Gwil was definitely going to be different than Jared.  Even with that soft peck, there was so much passion and love in it that Jared never brought me.

I leaned forward and captured his lips once more, this time brushing my fingers through his short brown hair as I felt his arms slowly wrap further around me.

This was gonna be an adjustment in the days to come. After coming out of the relationship I had, I knew there would be some doubts in the future, especially with Gwil and I having separate careers always being a part from each other (me more than him) but I felt in my bones that when he made that promise earlier, he meant it.

And I was proven right that within 2 years shortly after the Bohemian Rhapsody premiere, I got a proposal right there at the red carpet.

[jj-lynn21]

Do you still like the taste of beer? part 3

Part three: Love, sex, and consequences

warnings: Smut, consequences. Note: I feel the overwhelming desire to help this extremely flawed character. I have no problem with him wanting random sex but I do not condone cheating. Can he learn & grow? song: All I wanna do is make love to you by Heart

  read ch 1  ch 2                       

I wake before Ella as I always do. Her naked body turned away from me in sleepy splendor. The way her hip curves to her side up to the side of her breast is such a lovely view in the morning. I get up and brush my teeth before returning to wake her softly.

I graze my hand over her shape and dare to press my lips to her shoulder. That makes her stir. She turns her sleepy eyes opening them slowing as she smiles.  without saying a word she always knows what I want more than coffee every morning. She kisses my lips and I grab the back of her head with one hand keeping her here as I kiss her deeper.

Her lips on my neck do things to another part of me. As she lays sucking kisses down my torso my stomach muscles flex as another muscle is ready for her warm mouth. "Yeah, Ella. That's so good, Princess."

Her small hands always fondle my balls a great deal before she ventures a hand down my shaft to start...fuck that's new. "Ah  ah easy on the balls in your mouth, Princess. Oh damn, yeah..."

She gags as I just thrust a little into her that precious mouth. "Sorry, try again, Princess." I fucking love that choking sound. "Oh, yes...fffffuck."

She is the best and even starts the coffee before she showers. She takes an Uber leaving me with the rental car so I don't fuck the driver I guess. Maybe I should just fucking grow-up and spend my life with the women that loves me. Yeah, I don't think I'm ready yet. Maybe when we start having kids.  I'll even go to some meetings to appease her.

Sweet kisses of love before we part. Those cupcake lips make me want more time this morning but we are off to our separate jobs. Yeah, I see the camera taking pictures as I have to shift my junk in front of the apartment. Damn American photographers or paparazzi or life moment stealing trash mongers love catching an awkward moment. And I'm sure there are people that like looking at others awkward moments like we are animals in a zoo.

Steiner Studio is the other side of town. It really doesn't take me long to get there this early in the morning but I doddle and pickup another coffee at some coffee house near the studio that I heard Robert De Niro often stopped. He's not here today. It's just a place full of wanna be actors and tourists trying to bump in to him like that will make their fucking life so special.

A guard stands at the studio door where a sign said, CLOSED SET. Close set is code for secret projects or nude scenes of any kind. I guess they are going with a porn aspect of my book instead of something more philosophical. That figures. It will probably sell to the masses better. With my deal I get royalties from everything involved in the show. So the better it does at the box office the more I make.

Yes, I feel like a fucking sell out. Most people would have tried for the same deal if they got the chance. Plus I wrote the screen play and rewrote and today will probably have to write something different to get the director’s vision of my book how he wants it. The bastard doesn't care about the thought. He only cares about people being able to fuck who ever they want. And it really isn't about that. It is more fulfilling a need than an emotion.

If he gives these people fucking emotions for each other I swear I will..."Oh Hey Jake, I have the rewrites for today. You want me to stick around to rewrite on the fly if needed?"

Jake is one of the hot ass actors that just started directing. I mean I'm not really into guys usually but if I was feeling horny and he was cool I would fuck him. He was a poster boy in teen magazines in the States when he was young. When a story came out about him fucking an actress he was dating in a dressing room that was over. From what he said and what I read about, she was pretty vocal during the whole thing. There is a video on the internet that you can hear her moaning plane as day. He's a cool guy other than destroying my work.

He is a huger. I'm okay with that. I never shy away from physical contact. So he hugs me, "Hi William. Glad to see you man. Of course I want you around to see your masterpiece being filmed. I hope I don't need any more script changes at this point."

What he really means is he most definitely will need changes, so he is glad I'm down with that. "Cool, I have nothing else on my plate today other than working on my newest book but I can do that anytime."

"That's great man," He pats my back as we walk through the bar set. It gives me chills. Not the set but him patting my back. His hair is longer pulled back in a crude ponytail to keep off his face i guess. It isn't long enough for a decent manbun. "Let me introduce you to the main cast."

He takes me over to a table where I can see a blonde guy with facial scruff going over his line with a blonde that has her back towards me. She bounces her shapely leg over the other with her black heel suspended on her toes. She has the kind of legs I like. I could just crawl under the table and ease open and she would let me I bet...

"This is Rex and Randy," Jake introduced them. "Rex and Randy this is the writer of your script William Söder."

I bet she is randy. She turns and our eyes lock. Fuck it's the chick that out stayed her welcome last year, What are the fucking odds. Did she fuck Jake for the part. There is no doubt in my mind I'm going fuck her again when there is a break. "Nice to meet you Rex and..." I smile and wink at her. "Randy." She turns red which is a sure sign she wants more.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Söder." Her cheeks getting more crimson as she looks at me is fucking sexy as hell.

"You can call me William." I kept my eyes a her a few more seconds before shaking Rex's hand."You can both call me William. If you have any questions about the script feel free to ask." This gives me an excuse to be in her dressing room later. She wasn't loud as far as I remember so I shouldn't have Jake’s issue.

I sit back in a chair they marked writer. Not even my name on it. Can you believe that? I watch these actors do a basic bar pick up scene twenty times. Rex is coming off a some desperate loser who women would see and run from if they were smart. That is not how I ever pictured the guy in my book. And he is reading a fucking poetry book. He to fucking obvious he wants laid. He should be more subtle to only attract those that really just want a release.

Randy on the other hand is perfect for every take. She knows how to do this because this is what she does. This is real for her. There really shouldn't be so much dialog here. She is ready to leave with him as soon as she asks about his lame poetry book.

Great, Jake yelled cut. I can cut me another nice piece of Randy. I've never gone back for seconds before. Leaning against the wall by her dressing room door I can practically smell her excitement. She opens the door before I even knock. "Hey, you want to go over some script changes."

"Fuck more changes," she seemed more frustrated than aroused, but I can take care of...

"Mommy," a small voice squealed.

I glanced at the man holding the small child. As they walked closer, I look back to Randy who is lighting up like it is fucking Christmas morning. The man walks right over and kisses her cheek.

"What a nice surprise." I gain my composure as she introduces me. "Larry this the script writer William. He was dropping off new pages. William this is my husband Larry and our son Billy."

Shit. Before the kid buries his face in Larry's neck I saw my own eyes staring back at me. It couldn’t be. I shake Larry's hand politely as I check in his eyes. They are brown. Hers are blue. Billy looks exactly like me as a child. How the fuck.. what the fuck...

"Nice meeting you. I think you have an hour before you need to be back on set Randy. Enjoy your family time."

Fuck, fuck, fuck...

[takeontaron-blog]

And I’m Told (She’s) a Virgin - A Taron Egerton Fanfic

Taron x Reader

Obvious (first time) smut 

The after-party was spectacular. The director had called a wrap on the film this morning, and you were sad the production was over. Getting to see everyone tonight in celebration of the project completion was such a treat, and especially since this was your first movie you’d ever been a part of, the entire experience was very exciting and emotional. You had been cast as the lead in a drama opposite Taron Egerton, who you adored working with, as he was such an amazing actor to work with but also great fun, as well as both your on-screen and off-screen relationship had become a constant flirt fest. 

You hadn’t visited with him very much tonight, but as the party was coming to a close and you were beginning to feel sober enough to drive, Taron came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you in a tight bear hug, causing you to startle and then laugh. 

“Hello, luv,” he slurred his words slightly. 

You smiled at him. “Quite drunk, are we?”

“We were quite drunk, but I cut myself off about an hour ago so now I’m just an itty bitty bit tipsy.” He clumsily rested his head on your shoulder and smiled, seeming to enjoy being pressed against you. 

“Do you need a ride back to your hotel?” you asked. 

“Mmmmm,” he nuzzled his nose into your neck, making you shrug and giggle. “No, I got a car waiting for me.” He pretended to bite at your neck and you pulled away, laughing, but not able to get far because of his arms still solidly tied around you. 

“Stoooop!” you continued to laugh. “It tickles!”

“Come with me?” he asked simply, a slightly drunken loopy smile settling on his face. 

“To your hotel?”

“Yeah. We’ll have another drink.”

“I don’t think you need another drink.”

“Ehhhh who bloody cares.” He lazily pressed his lips against the side of your head and gave you a sloppy kiss. “Please come with me, though.” He stared into your eyes. “Please? Please. Please. Pleeaaasseee-”

“Yeah, okay!” you gave in with a grin.

Taron smiled, quite happy with his victory. “C’mon, then, the car’s just ‘round the back.” He started walking backwards, half pulling you with him as you both stumbled over each other’s feet.

“Taron, let go of me so I can walk!”

“Mmm no, I don’t want to.” You both reached the car, which in fact turned out to be a limo, and he opened the door for you, gesturing dramatically for you to enter. 

You slid into the back seat, looking around excitedly. You’d never been in a limo before, and it was quite posh. Taron got in alongside you, and upon closing the door, the vehicle started towards the hotel. 

Taron leaned his head back against the seat, head turned towards you. “Did you have a good time tonight?”

You nodded. “Such a wonderful time.”

“I’m glad.” Taron’s fingers reached out to gently run up your knee that was poking out from under your dress, and you playfully raised an eyebrow at him. Without warning, he scooted over so he was pressed against you and he began kissing you intensely. You gasped, surprised, since you two had never actually engaged in any kind of physical or romantic acts off-screen as of yet, but it was really, really nice to have him kissing you solely because he wanted to and not because the director was telling him to do so. You gently kissed him back, a little intimidated by how experienced he seemed to be, his lips consuming yours over and over again. 

He decided to attack your neck next, hungrily sucking and biting down as you attempted to control the moans trying to escape your mouth. Your attempts didn’t work well, however, and you heard yourself let out a breathy moan as he bit and pulled a little at the area where your neck and shoulder met. That seemed to be what he was waiting for, as he roughly grabbed your right leg, pulling it across his lap so you were spread open for him and his fingers went directly to your clit covered by your thin panties.

Sparks shot through you in every sense of the word, but so did some minor panic. You didn’t want him to stop, but you also knew if you didn’t say something soon - your thought were silenced when you suddenly felt Taron’s fingers slide underneath your panties and his fingers immediately went for your opening. Then the thoughts came back, screaming this time. 

You squeaked loudly, hurriedly pushing him away with one hand as your other went to grab and pull on his hand that was currently between your thighs. 

“Please!” you whimpered, hating how pathetic you suddenly sounded. 

Taron stopped immediately, looking extremely confused but concerned. “I’m so sorry, did I hurt you?”

You shook your head, trying to figure out what to say.

“Did I misread the situation? I’m so so sorry, Y/N, maybe I’m not as sober as I thought I was and I misunderstood -”

“No, no, it’s not your fault,” you said, wanting to soothe him. He seemed so scared that he had done something wrong to you. “Uhm, it’s just that....” you trailed off, looking at the floor, feeling embarrassed and small. 

“Yes?” Taron asked softly. 

“I’ve....never done this before.” You gave him a weak smile. Taron stared at you, speechless for a moment. “I’m sorry, I’ve ruined everything tonight.”

“What? No! No, not at all.” He took one of your hands in his and rubbed it gently. “No, I’m sorry. You have absolutely nothing to apologize for. I had no idea, I feel like an ass now.”

“Please don’t feel bad. I was enjoying what you were doing,” you admitted shyly, feeling yourself blush. “I just, uhm...yeah...”

“So, what would you like to do then?” Taron’s voice was so kind you wanted to cry. You couldn’t believe how understanding he was. “We can still go to my place, have a drink. If you’re too tired to leave, you can have the bed and I’ll take the sofa.”

“I kind of don’t really know what I want right now.”

“That’s alright. It helps that we’re staying in the same hotel. When we get there, I’ll walk you up to your room if you prefer?”

You suddenly realized something you did want right then. “I want to be with you for awhile longer, if that’s okay.”

Taron’s smile made your stomach do flip-flops. “Of course. I love being around you.” He kept your hand in his, gently rubbing his thumb back and forth. “I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but....you really did surprise me. I don’t understand how you’ve never been with anyone. You’re so beautiful and talented and enchanting.”

You giggled. “Enchanting?”

Taron nodded sincerely. 

“Yeah, alright, I’ll take it.” You rode in silence for a minute. “Can I ask you for something?”

“Anything, darling.”

“Would it be okay if you kissed me again?”

“Of course,” Taron breathed, leaning in to you again and pressing his lips against yours, this time tenderly. You kissed back, your hands finding themselves in his hair, and he groaned softly. You kissed for awhile longer, Taron breaking the moment by pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. You felt yourself getting wet, breathing in his scent, feeling his lips and hands on you, just having him so close right now. You realized you were feeling intense lust, and apparently Taron felt the same as his pupils dilated staring into yours. You found yourself breathing a little harder as your heart rate sped up, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, Taron gently placing his hands on your waist. You felt safe, you felt cared for. You suddenly realized you felt ready. You were ready, and you realized you couldn’t possibly want it from anyone else than the man gazing at you right now. 

“Taron?” you said softly.

“Yes, Y/N?” he replied in an equally quiet tone. 

“Do you think, uhm..I mean, obviously I have no experience, but...well..do you think you might still want to be with me tonight?”

Taron’s eyes grew just a bit wider, his mouth falling open just enough for you to notice. Now it was his turn to experience an increase in heart rate. “Y/N, I don’t know...”

Your heart sank, and you felt so heavy, like you might cry from embarrassment and raging hormones and just....

“Oh, no, luv, I didn’t mean it like that. Believe me, I want you. I want you more than anything in the world.” He paused, and you felt like dying while waiting for him to continue. “I meant, I don’t want you to do this just to please me or anything. I want it to be because you’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” you breathed, leaning up to kiss him again. 

“Are you sure you want me?” he asked.

“Only you.”

Taron held you away from him just enough to look into your eyes one more time. “You’re sure?”

You nodded, suddenly wanting to be as close to him as possible. “Please, Taron.”

You felt like you would melt at the adoring gaze he gave you before pulling you into him tightly and kissing you. Just then, the limo pulled up to the hotel. Taron quickly helped you out of the car and you walked hand in hand though the back entrance and straight to his room. Upon closing and locking the door, Taron took off his coat and you stood next to him, unsure of what to do. 

“Would you like something to drink? Do you need anything, luv?”

“Just you,” you said. Taron picked you up then, walking into the bedroom, kissing you the entire way. He set you down on the bed, kicking his shoes off as he stretched across your body, starting to nip and pull on your lips. 

“Promise you’ll stop me at any time if you need, alright?” he asked. You nodded, and he slowly began kissing down your neck, your shoulder, your arm, then to your collarbone, your breast, your stomach, all still covered by your dress. He kneeled down in front of the bed and removed your shoes, kissing up your calves to your knees then pushing up your dress just enough to kiss halfway up your thighs. He stood up, unbuttoning his shirt and dropping it on the floor, and you drank in the sight of his naked upper body and groaned in anticipation. He continued to stare at you while he unbuckled and unzipped his pants, leaving him only in his underwear. Your heart was in your throat as you saw his boner though the fabric, and he climbed back onto the bed and helped you sit up. 

“Just relax, let me take care of you.” He kissed you deeply as his fingers found the zipper on the back of your dress, slowly pulling it down and pushing the material off your shoulders. He kissed the newly exposed skin as he gently pulled the dress off of your body, and even though you were still in your bra and panties you felt extremely exposed. “I’ve got you,” he reminded you as he pulled you into him, sucking on your neck. You closed your eyes and sighed, the feeling of his bare chest against yours warm and an intense turn-on. You felt his fingers unhook your bra and pull it away, tossing it onto the ground. Your face grew red and you moved your arms to cover yourself. 

“It’s alright,” he cooed in your ear as he pulled on your lobe. “Lay back for me.”

You did as he asked, still covering your chest. “You don’t need to hide.” He gently took your wrists in his hands and pulled your arms away, revealing your breasts to him. You closed your eyes and tried to control your breathing. “So beautiful,” he purred, and you felt a hand softly squeeze one of your breasts. “Y/N, open your eyes. Please look at me.”

You willed your eyes to open slightly, and Taron smiled at you. “I don’t want you hiding from me in any way tonight. I want you fully present.” He lay down beside you, pressing into your body as he propped himself up on an elbow and ran his free hand over your stomach. “I want to make you feel like you’ve never felt before. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.” With that, he leaned over and his tongue snaked out, tracing one of your nipples. 

“Ooohhhh!” you breathed, delighted by the feeling. Taron smiled at you before taking your nipple fully into his mouth, sucking gently. Your back arched and you hissed softly, your hand instinctively wrapping itself in his hair and tugging lightly. Taron moaned around your nipple, letting you know he liked it when you did that, and began sucking and licking a little harder. “You like this, Y/N?”

You nodded, not realizing the small smile that was on your face as you allowed Taron to slowly explore your body. He made sure to give attention to the other nipple before kissing down your chest, licking a line from your sternum to your belly button, then kissing up and down your stomach as you squirmed, letting out soft moans the entire time. 

You felt yourself tensing up when Taron’s lips met the top of your panties, and he pulled the fabric aside just enough to place his lips on your hip bones. He slowly, slowly pulled the fabric down, kissing every bit of skin as it became exposed, and right as he was reaching the opening to your slit, he paused and looked up, searching your face for any trace of doubt. 

“You sure?” he asked. You felt a little bit of panic still, but seeing Taron kneeling over your, having loved you all over already, his face full of lust and desire, you pushed the probing anxiety away and nodded.

“I want to hear you say it,” Taron asked.

“Yes, Taron. Please.”

You felt the panties pulled off completely then, and you kept your legs together, feeling yourself tremble ever so slightly from the anticipation and from nerves. 

“I’ve got you,” Taron breathed, kissing up your thighs, placing a chaste kiss on the top of your mound and looking up at you as he put his hands between your inner thighs. He gently pushed your legs apart, groaning at the first sigh of your pussy. You willed your breathing to calm down as you watched him looking at you, pushing your legs wide apart until you were completely spread open for him. 

“Fuck, Y/N. You’re dripping for me,” he moaned as he ran his nose up your slit, causing you to whine. “You smell so good. I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to be the first to taste you.” He dipped his tongue into your folds, and you moaned loudly. “God, you taste like honey. Y/N, I could eat you out forever. Fucking hell.” His tongue probed against your opening, swirling around it for a moment before pushing inside. You gripped his hair in your hands as you cried out, overwhelmed with emotion and pleasure. He tongue fucked you for awhile, lapping up any juices his mouth could find. He then traced his tongue up to your clit, flicking the tip against it as you bucked into his face. He moaned as he buried himself into your pussy, sucking and licking your clit, holding your legs open as you writhed around, moaning his name over and over again. 

You felt one of Taron’s fingers gently rub your opening, and you tried to relax as he pulled it inside as deep as he could go before inserting a second one, slowly stretching you out. He pulled his head up for a moment, enjoying the sight of you being pleasured by him. “You like my fingers inside you, Y/N?” he asked as he began scissoring them back and forth before curling them and pumping them in and out. You whined in response, and he chuckled as he started licking you rapidly. You felt your orgasm building quickly, and you yelped when he sucked sharply on your clit, sending you over the edge. 

Coming down from your climax, you opened your eyes to see Taron licking his fingers off before placing his lips around your opening and sucking, causing you to cry out. “I want every last drop of you,” he said, running his tongue along you one last time before sitting up. “How are you doing, Y/N?”

“Mmmm wonderful,” you sighed. He smiled, then stood up just long enough to take off his underwear, immediately climbing back into the bed and crawling up over you. You gasped loudly when you saw his cock, thick as hell and much bigger than you had expected. He settled between your legs, kissing you deeply as he slowly began moving his hips, rubbing his cock in your wetness. 

“You still sure about this?” The tip of his cock nudged your opening, and you tensed up. “We don’t have to do anymore tonight, Y/N.”

“No, I want this. I want you.” 

“You’re sure?”

You nodded. “Will it hurt?” You felt so stupid for asking, but for some reason your anxiety got the better of you. 

“I swear I’ll do everything in my power to not make it so.” He stared at you awhile longer, letting your body calm down a bit. “You ready?” he breathed, forehead against yours. 

“I’m ready.” You gripped his shoulders as his tip pushed through the tiniest bit. Taron’s mouth went to your neck, kissing and murmuring encouragement until the tip was inside. Your body went rigid as he pushed in deeper, crying out at the foreign pain. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, continuing to kiss your neck, your lips, your collarbone. “Relax. I don’t want to hurt you.” You felt tears well up as he pushed through until he was fully inside, and he stilled himself. “Breathe, Y/N,” he held your face in his hand, stroking your cheek. “Relax, breathe. I’m right here.” His voice soothed you, and you relaxed, trying to get used to him inside of you. 

“I’m going to start moving now,” he kissed you. “Tell me what you need.”

“Just hold me.” Your hand gripped his arms, his shoulders, his back as he pulled out and pushed back in again, then again, slowly at first until he could tell the pain was subsiding, then beginning to pump a little harder, a little faster. You started moaning, and he sped up, groaning against your shoulder as he bit into it. 

“So. Fucking. Tight,” he growled, and your head fell back as he hit a bundle of nerves that sent the most amazing feeling through your body. “So warm, so wet, so perfect. I can’t believe you’re letting me do this to you, that you let me be your first. Seriously the best pussy I’ve ever had.” He worked on finding an angle to hit your special spot, and upon finding it, began pounding into you roughly, your almost-screams of his name driving him on. 

“I’m gonna cum so fucking hard, Y/N. You’re going to make me come undone. Can you cum with me? Just one more for me, please, Y/N.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, and he went deeper, causing the most exquisite mix of pain and pleasure. Your body began to tremble, and Taron held you close. 

“I’m....coming...” you gasped, and Taron pounded into you just a few more times, each thrust a little harder than the one before, and you shattered, crying out as you saw stars, hearing Taron praise you as he hit his own climax, then both of you collapsing in an exhausted mess. Taron still held you, not seeming to want to let go. He peppered your face with tiny kisses that made you smile. 

“Thank you, Y/N,” he sighed happily. 

“Thank you for an amazing first time.” 

He kissed you lovingly before pulling out and helping you off the bed to go get cleaned up. After you each had a quick shower, you got back into bed and settled under the covers, both still naked and wrapped around each other’s bodies. You felt safe and warm as you snuggled into Taron’s chest, drifting off to the sound of his heartbeat against your ear. 

Requested - requester asked to remain Anon. Could you write a fic where the reader is losing her virginity to Taron and he is all caring and super sweet? :) 

[thursdays-fallen-angel]

Outside the Midnight Hour

@deancaswc ; @thursdays-fallen-angel vs. @jimminovak Prompt: Book Title “Outside the Midnight Hour” Word count: 3.1k Rating: T Summary: Dean has a chance to be cast in the movie of a lifetime, but it’s down to the author of the film’s source material to decide if he’s going to get the job or not.

When Dean’s agent calls him, he’s sure that it’s going to be with a rejection. Based on the vibe Dean had gotten in the audition room, the amount of money going into this project—there’s no way in hell they’re going to take him.

After all, this film isn’t like any other that Dean has even so much as auditioned for, let alone been a part of. A paranormal, action-based movie with a heavy focus on psychological aspects and themes of self-exploration? With that much going on, it’s going to have to be perfect.

And the director, Cain Mullen, is one of the best in the industry. He won’t accept anything less than perfection, anyway.

Which is why Dean answers his phone with, “Alright, lay it on me. How embarrassed do I have to be for even trying for this thing?”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end of the line, and then Charlie asks, “What the hell are you talking about?”

Dean slumps down onto his couch, his pout directed up at the ceiling. It’s a decent apartment in a decent area of LA, but overall, nothing to write home about; being an up and coming actor doesn’t quite have the same pizazz to it as being a fully-fledged one does.

If he had just landed this gig…

He sighs into his phone. “Beyond the Midnight Hour. Cain didn’t seem all that impressed during my reading, so how bad is it looking? Maybe I should stick to mediocre romcoms and B-list horror stuff.”

Charlie makes a sound of outrage in reply, and when she speaks next, her voice has taken on that unmistakable, I am your agent and that means I know best, mister, attitude. “Dean Winchester, you are better than those movies, and one day I’m going to make you believe it. And guess what! That day is today, so strap in, bucko.”

Dean blinks. That’s sounding an awful lot like she’s saying…

“Strap in for what, Charlie?”

He can practically hear his agent’s wolfish grin. “You’ve got a meeting, Winchester. A couple people at the studio want to talk to you.”

Dean sits up so quickly that his head spins—or is that happening anyway? “You mean I—?”

“You’re one of two choices,” Charlie is quick to cut in, and there’s the other shoe that Dean knew had to be waiting somewhere. “But Dean, it’s looking really good. The director and a few producers want to talk to you, maybe run you through some more lines, and then they’ll make their decision.”

Okay. Okay, Dean can handle that. One-on-one with another actor, and if he comes out ahead, he could potentially be the lead of the movie of the year. Should be easy enough. All he has to do is win over the directors and producers. Right?

He takes a deep breath, determination taking root. “Alright, Charlie. Send me the details.”

~

Dean arrives at the studio’s main office only a few hours after Charlie’s call, dressed in his best with his stomach twisted into knots. A receptionist leads him to a conference room that has been set up like an informal get-together space, with the table pushed off to the side of the room and an array of basic snacks and drinks spread across it.

There are only two other people in the room, one of whom Dean recognizes immediately.

Cain appears to be deep in conversation with the room’s one other occupant, but he looks up when Dean enters, and his face splits into a grin. “Ah, Mr. Winchester! I’m so glad you could join us.”

Cain crosses the room and grabs Dean’s hand for a firm, overexcited handshake. Dean tries his best not to gape like a damn fish the whole time, but he only barely manages to return the handshake by the time Cain moves on.

“I trust your agent explained to you what we’re looking for today,” the director says, a heavy hand now laying on Dean’s shoulder. “Our team is in a dead split between casting you or Michael Godson as our lead, and that means we’ve brought it down to our tiebreaker.”

Multiple alarms immediately begin to ring in Dean’s mind. A dead split? Him and Michael Godson? Charlie hadn’t made it sound quite so dire, and she definitely hadn’t told Dean who his competition was—though it’s probably fair that she didn’t, because if she had, there’s no way Dean would have shown up at all.

Michael is a pro with a resume that’s a hell of a lot better than Dean’s. Dean might have some decent acting chops, but if it comes down to it, in what setting could he ever possibly hope to beat Michael?

He croaks out, feeling slightly faint, “Tiebreaker, huh?”

Cain nods, then uses the hand he has on Dean’s shoulder to lead him over to the man he had previously been talking to. The guy has been hovering since Dean arrived, looking awkward in the background, and Dean tries not to look as wary as he feels when they are introduced.

Who is he? A producer? Some random pick from the crew? He definitely doesn’t seem confident in this environment, and he’s gorgeous enough that Dean knows he would remember if he’d seen him before. He looks like he’s straight out of every chick flick Dean has ever seen, with his dark, tousled hair and perfect, pink lips.

“Dean, this is Castiel Novak. You might know him as his pen name, CJ Novak—he is the author of the novel Beyond the Midnight Hour is based upon.”

Dean’s mouth goes dry. “Oh,” he says without quite meaning to. He’s heard of CJ Novak. Then, with as much enthusiasm as he can muster and a hand stuck out in Castiel’s direction, “It’s great to meet you, man. I didn’t realize this was based on a book, but based on how awesome the cut-down screenplay version is looking, you must be an amazing author.”

Castiel’s cheeks dust pink, and he belatedly accepts Dean’s offered hand. His palm is smooth and warm against Dean’s own. “Thank you, Mr. Winchester. That’s very kind of you to say.”

Once the handshake has ended, Dean gives Castiel the most charming smile he can muster. It’s not as easily managed as he might have liked, with his nerves ratcheting up as quickly as they are, but—he’s pursuing a career in acting for a reason. He can do this.

And Dean isn’t an idiot. Cain said they needed a tiebreaker, so who better to make the final decision than the man who created the story that’s being put to screen? Dean isn’t going to resort to flirting or anything so cheap to try to win the author over, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be as charismatic as possible.

“I really do want to read it,” he says, now that a beat has passed after Castiel’s thanks. “How different is—”

At that moment, there’s a knock against the conference room door. It swings inward to reveal a pair of unfamiliar faces. “Cain?” one of them calls. “Can we steal you for a second?”

“Of course.” Cain smiles at the pair in the doorway, then turns back to Dean and Castiel to clap a hand to each of their shoulders. “I’ll be back shortly. I’ll see about rounding up the rest of the producers, too, before Michael arrives. Play nice, you two.”

Cain strides out of the room without a backwards glance. When the door closes behind him, the conference room is thrown into an awkward silence. Dean and Castiel both stare at the door instead of each other. Castiel shifts his weight from one foot to the other; Dean clears his throat. They end up turning to each other at the exact same time.

“Well, I guess—”

“I feel like I should apologize—”

Each of them cuts off. Dean’s smile turns sheepish, and Castiel presses his lips together in embarrassment.

“Uh—sorry.” Dean forces himself to chuckle and rubs uncomfortably at the back of his neck. Smooth, Winchester. “What do you want to apologize for?”

“I was going to apologize in advance for being as socially awkward as I am,” Castiel confesses with a chuckle that’s far more authentic than Dean’s had been. “But I think I proved myself quickly enough on that matter. Cain promised me he wouldn’t leave me alone, and yet…”

Oh. Well. Now Dean feels even more awkward. He tries to push through it. “Well, I can’t exactly say anything for Cain ditching you with me, but I’ll try not to make this any harder on you than it has to be. I’m a chill guy, I promise.”

Castiel squints at him like he doesn’t know how to interpret that statement. Dean’s confidence begins to fizzle.

He swallows hard. “Anyways, uh. I know actors tend to be flashy assholes, but that’s not my style. My little brother’s a quiet type, too, so believe me when I say that’s something I can handle. He’s going through law school right now. Pretty different path than the one I’m on.”

Castiel tilts his head at that, intrigued. “Those are definitely very different paths,” he agrees. “Your brother wants to serve people, and you want to entertain them. Why?”

Dean shrugs. “Just our lots in life, I guess. Sam’s always been a brainiac. Reading, writing, following along with political activist groups. I modelled a bit when I was a teenager, and I followed that line of work to make sure I stayed employed. Money’s important when you’re raising a kid sibling as your own.”

“Raising him as your own?” Castiel echoes, but Dean is sure that they’ve already discussed this more than they should. They’re not here to talk about him.

Or, well. Maybe they are, in a way. But not like this. His personal drama doesn’t mean a damn thing, as far as his career is concerned.

“How different is Beyond the Midnight Hour the book from Beyond the Midnight Hour the movie?”

“Oh. Um.” Castiel clears his throat, but thankfully has the good grace to let the subject be changed. He settles his weight back on his heels as he switches to thinking about a subject he’s actually familiar with. Dean can see how much it relaxes him; the difference in his posture is like night and day. “Actually, the novel I wrote is called Outside the Midnight Hour. After the film rights were sold, the studio came to me with the idea of changing it for the movie adaptation. Something about original titles and alphabetic preference, I don’t fully remember. I was too happy to be getting a movie to care.”

“Oh.” Dean wrinkles his nose without thinking. “You weren’t offended by that? I mean, you must have worked your ass off to write that book, and then after all that, some studio mooks decided to just change the title for their own reasons? The title can be the trickiest part of the whole book, right? That doesn’t sound fair.”

Castiel blinks rapidly, then stares at Dean in what seems to be a stunned silence. It takes a while for him for respond, and when he does, there’s a distant note to his voice. “I… I hadn’t actually thought about it in those terms. I wasn’t offended, but… Should I have been?”

Dean shrugs. “I don’t know. If you aren’t offended, you aren’t offended, I don’t have any right to tell you how to feel. You seem like a good guy, though, Castiel—”

“Cas.”

Dean loses his grip on his rant. “What?”

Castiel’s cheeks have turned pink again. “A lot of my friends call me Cas.”

“Oh. Cas. Okay.” Dean’s face feels a bit warmer than usual now, too, because—is it just him, or does that make it sound like the two of them are becoming friends? Maybe it’s a bit too early for them to actually be at that point, but if nothing else, it’s definitely an invitation.

He clears his throat and makes an effort to remember what it was he had been saying. “Um—anyway. If you’re not offended about the title thing, that’s fine. I probably shouldn’t be saying shit that might pit you against the studio, anyway. Not if I want this job.”

“I’ve already signed my contracts,” Cas says, waving his hand in a vague gesture. “I can’t be turned against anyone. But your perspective is… interesting.” He assesses Dean for a moment, then asks, “If I were to tell you that I was offended by the change in title. What would you do about it?”

The answer to that is an easy one. Dean knows what he would do without a second of hesitation. And, even though he swears he can hear Charlie’s voice in the back of his mind telling him that it’s a bad idea, he gives that answer to Cas.

“If you weren’t into it, I wouldn’t do this movie. I know I already said this, but the screenplay is fucking incredible. You created a great story with great characters. If this movie didn’t respect your vision and earn your support, I wouldn’t want to support it, either.”

Cas’ expression goes slack with the force of his surprise. Dean can’t blame him for the reaction; he’s sure it’s not what Michael would have said.

(Dean has never met the guy, but he seems like a stuck-up prick, so he doesn’t exactly have any desire to. He knows enough from interviews and general gossip, thanks.)

“Why would you give up this film?” Cas asks—demands, really. Once he gets a grip on his surprise, he verges on being angry. “I know your work history, so I know this project is a huge opportunity for you. You told me that you started acting with the hopes of supporting your brother. This would be a better paycheck than any you have ever seen, which could help both of you. So why the hell would my opinion of something as inane as the title convince you to give up your chance?”

“Well… not just the title..” Maybe his logic doesn’t feel quite as sound now that Cas has thrown it back at him like that, but that doesn’t mean Dean is going to change his mind. “It’s your story. I’m just some guy who might be allowed to act it out. One of those things is way more important than the other.”

Cas reels back slightly. “Dean Winchester,” he starts to say, but for a long moment, nothing follows it. Dean waits, feeling uneasy (and definitely like he has blown his chance and used this alone time with Cas all wrong).

Then Cas finishes, “Dean Winchester, you are phenomenal.” In the same breath, he turns his head toward the conference room door and shouts, “Cain?”

It only takes a handful of seconds for Cain to appear, opening the door and strolling through it without a care in the world. There’s no one with him, Michael or otherwise. Dean frowns.

“Any thoughts, Castiel?” Cain asks, casting a cautious look in Dean’s direction. Cas is quick to answer him, though, redrawing his attention completely.

“Dean is the one. I would like him to have the role over Michael.”

Dean’s has just about hits the floor. He turns to Cas, abruptly feeling dizzy and certainly not understanding what the hell is happening. “What? But I… I haven’t even been in the same room as him, yet. Why would you pick me? I mean, his name alone—”

Cas cuts him off with a shake of his head. “I already spoke with Michael earlier in the day. When he thought he had a few, secret minutes alone with me, he spent his time trying to impress me with his reputation and connections. He flat-out offered to introduce me to my favorite actor if he was given the part.”

Dean blinks. “And you didn’t want to take him up on that?”

Cas shakes his head and graces Dean with a small, secret kind of smile. “I think I have a new favorite actor now, anyway. And he’s much kinder. He cares about the work itself instead of just getting the job. Better looking, too, if I’m being honest.”

Cain muffles a chuckle behind his hand. Dean stares up at him in surprise; Cas is so absorbing that Dean already managed to forget that he came back into the room. And when he does look up, the director offers Dean his hand. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Dean. I’ll make sure everything you’ll need to look through gets sent along to your agent.”

“I—” Dean swallows hard. He’s dangerously close to getting choked up, but he eagerly shakes Cain’s hand nonetheless. “Thank you, sir. I’m looking forward to working with you, too. I appreciate this opportunity.”

There. Charlie would be proud of him for that line.

Dean can sense that the meeting (or ambush, really, since that’s what it turned out to be) is going to come to an end now that the casting decision has been declared. Part of him feels like he should keep his mouth shut and let that happen, not push his luck, but as soon as Cas starts to walk away from him, presumably toward the door, something like panic grips at Dean, and he instinctively reaches after him.

“Hey Cas, wait up—” Dean leaves Cain Mullen behind in favor of catching Castiel Novak by his elbow. Cas is slow to turn around to look at him, and when he does, his blue eyes have gone round with surprise. And god, with a face like that, how is this guy just the brains behind the story? It’s almost ridiculous.

Nerves bubble through Dean, and he gently releases Cas’ elbow. Neither of them moves to put any additional space between them, though.

“I was just, uh. I was wondering.” Shit, when did Dean become so bad at this? “Do you want to maybe… grab coffee? Or something? You know, new favorite actor to new favorite author? You never did tell me how different Outside the Midnight Hour is from its movie adaptation.”

Cas stares at him. “I suppose I didn’t,” he concedes. Then, after a moment of deliberation, a smile steadily stretches across his features, lighting him up. “Favorite actor to favorite author, you say?”

Dean feigns a casual shrug. “Kinder and better looking than any other author I know.”

It’s right then that Dean learns that, when Cas smiles widely enough, his nose and eyes wrinkle with it. He already loves the look of it, even before it turns out to accompany the words, “I would very much like to get coffee with you.”

[bbclesmis]

‘Valjean is like Spider-Man’

DOMINIC WEST FIGURES he's played his share of awful people. The serial killer Fred West in Appropriate Adult? Jimmy McNulty, the Baltimore cop in The Wire? A lovable rogue, but a rogue nonetheless. Noah Solloway, the lead in The Affair? "He's deeply silly," West contends. "Just a silly man!" In the film Colette (out this Friday), he plays a sadistic husband who locks his gifted wife (Keira Knightley) away and makes her write books for which he claims credit.

"As an actor, you do live with these people and experience what they're feeling," sighs the actor, 49. "If they're a******s, it's exhausting and ultimately degrading. So it was such a relief to play someone who's great." And he smiles that irascible smile, the one that makes you root for West even when he's playing murderers and pretentious, adulterous novelists.

Jean Valjean, West's character in the BBC's adaptation of Les Miserables, is not only "great" in the actor's eyes. He is nothing less than the "greatest hero in all literature": a superhero ex-convict who has spent 19 years in prison being tortured by Inspector Javert (David Oyelowo) for stealing a loaf of bread, but who determines on his release to be the best possible man he can be... with heartbreaking results.

West considers Victor Hugo's French revolutionary epic to be the "greatest novel ever written", too - "much better than War and Peace!" - and certainly much better than the famous musical (he's not a fan).

"Valjean is not just a good guy, he's an amazing guy. Like Spider-Man!" he beams. "He climbs up the sides of buildings to rescue kids. And he has the legitimacy of intense suffering; he's done 19 years of hard labour. That knocks Iron Man into a cocked hat! Then you get into the humanity of Valjean, his demons, his desperate need to redeem himself... He's trying not to be the brute that the prison has turned him into. You become a better person by spending time with someone like that."

He has asked me to his home, a converted brewery in Wiltshire that he shares with his wife, Catherine FitzGerald, and four children - Dora, 11, Senan, ten, Francis, nine, and Christabel, five - "I'm trying to cut down," he jokes. (He has another daughter, Martha, from his first marriage, who is studying English at Oxford and wants to act.) "I think all households should have a five-year-old girl running round," he says. "I just think it's better for children. Stops them from becoming little princesses. It's much harder to be a spoilt brat as one of four."

HE OPENS THE door unshaven and unkempt with a general air of bohemian bonhomie. He puts on a succession of silly voices as he leads me through to his kitchen. "Teas? Light refreshments? Do we want hot milk in our coffees? Yes?" He's such a chameleon as an actor that even his own accent sounds as if it's put on. He was educated at Eton, but his family isn't proper posh. His Irish father owned a plastics factory in Sheffield, his mother was an actor and he's the sixth of seven children.

The Wests have been doing up the house for about three years, but only moved in last summer - there are paintings waiting to be hung, pieces of Lego, mugs, antiques scattered around... The house used to be a "very manageable cottage next to a derelict brewery, but having decided to connect them all together they're only now getting used to the layout. "There are about five different doors to choose from. I didn't realise how spread out it would be. It's enormous!" They moved from west London to give the kids more space to range around when they're teenagers: "I want my kids to be around trees and animals more."

We take refuge in his office, up in the rafters of the old brewery, where he sinks into an armchair and resumes recounting his love affair with Les Miserables.

THE BBC VERSION is written by Andrew Davies and picks up more or less where his adaptation of War and Peace left off. It opens on the field of Waterloo in 1815 in the aftermath of Napoleon's defeat. Back in Paris, the royalists are resurgent - but can't quell the forces unleashed by the Revolution.

In the first episode, we follow Valjean's ill-starred attempts at redemption after his nemesis, Javert, releases him; meanwhile, the grisette Fantine (Lily Collins) falls for a cad (Johnny Flynn) and becomes pregnant with little Cosette - whose path will cross with Valjean's in the future. Six episodes, much heartache and many improbable coincidences will take us all the way up to the 1832 June Rebellion in Paris.

West hadn't read the epic novel, but now that he has, he's a convert. He even loves Hugo's digressions into the design of the Paris sewers. "Actually, I'd have loved it if we could have made six seasons out of it," he says. 'There's more than enough material and it's all important and relevant. As with any great classic, it's big enough to handle any amount of interpretations."

Javert's antipathy to Valjean is one of the engines of the plot - but it's also something of a mystery. Why does Javert hate him so much? "I always like to trace motivations to sex," West says. "I said to David, 'Javert obviously fancies him!' But he thought that was crass."

Did the rivalry extend off-set? "You're never quite sure where the character ends and the actor starts," he laughs. "But the key to David is that he's actually royal. He's a prince in Nigeria. And he doesn't drink. He's very religious. He's been married to his wife since he was 19 and they have four beautiful children. I hadn't realised people like that existed in the acting world! He's a very inspiring guy."

The co-stars decided it was the shared trauma of being institutionalised that set their characters against one another. "Valjean doesn't think he deserves anything other than brutality. Javert is constantly reminding him he's just a common criminal who breaks rocks and murders people."

Oyelowo is one of a number of non-white actors in the cast, marking a departure from traditional costume-drama casting. West jokes that he really wanted to do it all with 'A1lo'Allo accents, but: "Like any classic, it's not a museum piece. It has relevance to modern life. Eponine and the girls all talk like modern London girls. And therefore it looks like modern Britain, too."

THE PRODUCTION LOOKS likely to make Collins, as Fantine, a star. "She's incredible," says West. "It's an exhausting part. So harrowing. Any actress who goes for it deserves all the accolades she gets..." The first scene they shot together was Fantine's death, filmed in a freezing manor house outside Brussels at 5am. "She really went for it. I was like, 'Oh my God! How did you do those spasm things?' She said, 'I just made it up'." I imagine it's reassuring to have West on set: he is very experienced, but doesn't take himself too seriously. Do the younger actors come to him for advice? "Pfah! No. I'm jaded and lazy."

The Wire was the show that brought him fame, as well as a credibility not usually open to Old Etonians. But originally he didn't want to be in it. "And it turns out to have been the one thing that everyone knows me for and it was one of the best shows ever made! I think [creator] David Simon is almost the Victor Hugo of our time... certainly the Charles Dickens."

The Affair offers more escapist pleasure, its marital rows interspersed with good-looking people having sex (even if he doesn't think much of Noah). The Wests are about to decamp to LA for the filming of the final season, but it will be without Ruth Wilson this time. Last February, she disclosed in a Radio Times interview that she was "sure" she earned less than West. "I don't want more money, I just want equal money," she added. Not long after that her character Alison Bailey was killed off. What was all that about? "Oh, not related!" West yelps.

He remains good friends with Wilson. The main point of contention on set was whose behind would be visible in the sex scenes. "We used to fight about it. 'You're on top this time', 'No! I was on top the last three times!'"

He'd never given much thought to who was paid what, he says. "I never asked what the money is on a show. It was more a question of if I wanted to do it. So it woke me up to the issue. I never realised the disparity and the injustice."

It's one of a number of changes he has noticed since the #MeToo movement gained ground. "One thing that's happened is a positive discrimination in favour of female directors. But the main thing is that unacceptable behaviour from male directors or actors is now either not possible, or you can call them out on it. There was one guy in particular whose behaviour was disgusting. Particularly to young females in minor roles. I tried to counter it on several occasions. But now it wouldn't be so hard to get rid of them."

'Treatment of women has taken a big step back in television'

He twists his face in derision at those who feel the feminists have gone "too far". "Treatment of women has taken a big step back in the past 20 years," he says, his voice rising. "Particularly in television, which has become more pornographic and the burden of that falls squarely on young women. Things like Game of Thrones, where you get a pair of bare breasts every five minutes... I mustn't say this, but..." Say it!

"I'm fairly sure that 20 years ago young actresses would not have had pressure put on them to take their clothes off. The parts young actresses get, particularly pretty ones, involve violent rape. When I think about my daughter going into the profession... I'm just really glad that #MeToo has started to counteract what has happened in the past 20 years."

He puts it down to internet porn - "It's made boys feel that women are sex objects who are easily available" - as well as social media. "If you can swipe someone's face because you don't think they're pretty and it costs you that little... I haven't done it myself, but it cheapens it."

HE's CONCERNED AT the turn the world is taking: he mentions Trump, climate change, teenage boys becoming addicted to the online game Fortnite. A wariness of modernity seems to have inspired the move to the countryside; he and his wife are "luddites", he confesses. "I'm not one of those people who say, 'How can you bring children into this world?' But I do want to spend a lot more time hanging out with my kids and running around in forests."

Once he has finished filming the last season of The Affair, he plans to hire an enormous camper van, bundle the entire family into it and spend a few months driving around the States.

"It's the last chance we have," he explains. "They're nearly teenagers, so they're not going to want to spend that much time with their old man for much longer. I've spent a long time away from them. So we're taking six months, four months of it travelling. I've taken them out of school - there are no big exams. We'll home school them. They'll read. No screens. You're not going to get a better education than that. If you travel with as little as possible, you get much more interesting experiences."

Radio Times 5-11 January 2019

[strictnoodle]

Sanjivani 2

Now that the show has reached the 30th Episode mark; my overall impression about the characters and everything else. (wonder how much has changed and how much has stayed the same from my first post?)

**warning: long post + spoilers ahead!**

The Seniors:

Dr. Shashank Gupta An amazing father/mentor. He's too good at heart to the point he believes a hospital can run on goodwill alone bless his heart, no wonder Sanjivani is drowning in debt The way he seems so understanding to everyone else except his own daughter baffles me. I did not like it when he slapped her. Yeah she was a tad out of line, but he could’ve just opened his mouth and cleared the misunderstanding. With the way he was trying to shut her up, I'm pretty sure that was not the first time Anjali said that to his face; why not clear the misunderstanding? I refuse to believe he actually has romantic feelings for Juhi. Honestly, ousting Juhi from Sanjivani just because Rahul asked him to is the most redicules reason they could come up with.

Dr. Juhi Singh Still the badass COS that she is, deserves the position no questions asked. I love it every time she takes charge. Whether it’s handling Vardhan, Anjali or the junior residents, she’s doing an amazing job. I was hoping she doesn’t interfere with the father-daughter relationship, but then again I understand her desperation to clear things up. And boy, did she get more than what she bargained for. Seems Rahul and her are no longer together but reasons are still unclear. I’m not a fan of the ego clashes she’s having with Dr. Shashank. I get the emotional shock she’s in, but why can’t these characters just talk to each other?

Dr. Anjali Gupta ice baby, ice. Very ambitious. Would do anything to prove her self to her father even if it meant stabbing him in the back that luxury ward meeting? yikes. For her Juhi is an obstacle that’s always been between them, which is understandable as i’ve explained here. She firmly believes her dad is in love with Dr. Juhi and he has done absolutely nothing to clear it up. She craves her dad’s recognition so much she seems to be projecting it towards Vardhan? Anjali baby, no. She holds a soft spot for Dr. Sid and I really wish they’d explore more of this. I still want to see more layers of Anjali other than “the insecure daughter”.

Mr. Vardhan Makhija Still a douche. He’s the only character that speaks sense when it comes to how to run the hospital business wise. He’s been obsessed about the Luxury ward since the first episode I expected something other than a... beauty spa? who goes to a spa in the house of death and deceases? Psychopaths that’s who  Seems like he’s using it as a cover to run some questionable/shady business Rahul is probably involved too. Can’t tell if he really has a thing for Anjali or he’s just manipulating her for his own means or both. I was honestly surprised he was worried about Sid seeing as he had no issues wishing death to Shashank? I can't with him.

The Juniors:

Dr. Siddhant Mathur A huge soft teddy bear. Very kind. Just when I started wondering why would they give him a playboy image, they shove a scene to remind me of his ways ugh, men are the worst! I love how he’s following Shashank’s footsteps with the mentoring. Very patient and understanding when dealing with people, especially with Ishani. Carries the weight of being an illegitimate over his head and he hides the pain really well. Still not a fan of his ways and can’t say I'm not glad they toned it down. I mean really punching that guy and taking his blood without consent? I’m pretty sure that falls under organ harvesting. Can't tell if he likes Ishani romantically or it’s because he’s just caring by nature, but he’s definitely attracted to her. I find it cute how bothered he is that she likes nothing about him. (Why did they change the actress who played his mom? And why was she hiding from Dr. Shashank? He better not be that idiot long lost father so help me god.)

Dr. Ishani Arora An Alien. An Alien from outer space who’s learning how to be human. jk, lol. or am I?. Socially awkward, doesn’t know proper human behavior and a diagnostic machine and thank god they toned that down. An emotional mess. Her germophobia stems from her background which she uses as a shield to keep people at a distance. Craves family and motherly love so much it honestly breaks my heart. Fiercely protective of those she calls her own slapping a guy twice her size for Asha? Absolutely fearless. An idiot, but fearless. Emotionally unstable; hence, the up and down behavior. Has been deprived of affection most of her life to the point she gets attached to anyone who shows her any form of affection. Can be self aware, as in did not hesitate to admit her mistake and apologize. A none believer and has issues with god. Life made her Cynical.

Sid/Ishani pairing I like the softness. I like how Sid respects her boundaries and tries not to touch her without permission. I liked the pace of their relationship but then the last two episodes happened and the level went from a soft 10 to a 100 in record speed, add the ‘L word’ they used for the promo and label me freaked tf out. I was very relieved when Ishani said “dost” in the episode even that was a bit of a stretch but i’ll take it. I’m hoping it’s just a developing of a crush thing and nothing else.

Dr Rishab Vaidya Such a horrible horrible person. If anyone deserves a slap from their parent, it’s this one. Watching his ass get handed to him by Ishani was the highlight of the week for me.

Dr. Asha Kanwar This girl grew on me so much. Very competitive and has a valid reason to be. She’s in a race against time and her family. Always has her friends’ back, be it Ishani or Neil or anyone. I’m hoping her competitive nature doesn’t land her in trouble one day. Desperate people almost always end up doing something foolish.

Dr. Aman Gehlot This guy is too laid back for a first year resident. Seems he went to Sanjivani to follow Asha. Very protective of her.

Dr. Rahil Shekhar My absolute favorite out of everyone! I love him so damn much. Such a sweet soft guy, would do anything for his friend. I love how he took charge being the Second Year Resident and guided the rest in the ‘rescue Sid emergency procedure’. The second son of the Mathur household. I would literally watch 20 full minutes of him just doing laundry Give me more of him!

Dr. Neil Lama Lau I still cannot wrap my head around how he managed to enter medical school when he faints at the sight of blood? Probably became a doctor for his dad.

Performance:

I didn't write anything much the first time because I wanted to give the actors a fair chance to settle into their character, and I supposed 30 episodes is more than enough time, no? I honestly have no complain from the senior cast. Rohit’s 3D glasses need to go tho, asap.

My main issue is/was with the junior cast, specifically Namit and Surbhi. Since we don’t see much of the others I'm not really bothered about them, Now:

Namit As much as he’s nailing the laidback carefree attitude, he’s really really bad in emotional/intense scenes. I swear that phone conversation with his mom on the bench gave me secondhand embarrassment and I hate secondhand embarrassment. Every time Sid cries, I'm reminded of that face babies make when they’re fed something sour you know, all crunched up and stuff?. What was that death bed scene? And what is the Director doing? Your actor does subtlety really well, use it. And writers work around your actor’s weaknesses and utilize his strength fgs.

Surbhi: Some scenes she’s a pro and the other scenes i’m watching an amateur leaving me a whiplashed. Ishqbaaaz was the first show I've seen her in never seen Qubool Hai and I’ve noticed then Surbhi is a director’s actor(?). This actor-director team need to set tf down so they can get their shit together and agree once and for all how they want to present this character. Volume wise, personally I don't fault her much because Surbhi’s voice tone is naturally loud. Having a loud family myself a best friend too, these people really don’t realize how loud they’re being unless someone points it out to them, in this case the Director. I’m just glad it toned down considerably from the first couple of weeks.

Anyways, both are getting a pass from me so far since I'm just watching the show for fun; hence i’m not that bothered. But acting wise, both really have a lot of work to do like, a lot a lot. The directors need to up their game as well, half the issues would probably be solved if there was proper guidance and a clear vision between Namit/Surbhi and the Direction team.

Editing & everything else:

Still all over the place. One minute the doctors are wearing gloves, the next it magically disappeared? There’s no consistency with the scenes most of the time. Thankfully they worked on the lighting. It is much better than the first couple of weeks where we could barely see anything.

Finally...

The overall plot started okay-ish toned down considerably from the melodrama of the first weeks but then it was Cliche City the last two episodes. I'm hoping they go back to their previous pace because I liked the overall mellowness of the show. I don’t like how they’ve cut down on the medical cases. I mean it is a medical show? Where the main set is a hospital? And all main characters are doctors? smh. I personally prefer one medical case running for the entire week. That way there will be no super speed diagnostic and no miracle one minute cure happening. 

I still catch up with the show on the weekends as i’m not yet heavily invested in the show I could sign off any minute. What I do like most is the grey shades of the characters, They’re not easy to like and makes picking them apart quite fun.

[67-chevy-baby]

Obedience

Ship - Single!Jared x Single!Misha x Actor!OFC

Rating - 18+ Only!!!! 

Tags - Language, unprotected sex!, SMUT, light BDSM, bondage, rough sex, voyeurism, threesome (no Mishalecki), Misha is a total Dom in this btw…, oral (male and female receiving), spanking (with hands and a whip), hair pulling, fingering (female receiving), squirting, oh and also fluff! :)

Word Count - 3811 (Not even remotely sorry)

Beta - The amazing @kittenofdoomage :)

Written for - @holyfuckloueh

Being a guest star on a TV show was stressful. Kary had only been acting for two and a half years, so it still amazed her that she landed a spot on such a long-running series. Supernatural had a huge fan-base, and she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t heard of it. Watching the actual show was another story. She had meant to sit down and crank out the available seasons on Netflix, she really did, but her schedule was just too booked.

If she had known how drop-dead gorgeous the cast members were she probably would have canceled some plans and watched it sooner. She swore they were all hand carved by Michelangelo himself. Kary followed one of the PAs, Stephanie she thought her name was, into the Bunker’s kitchen. Even though her part wasn’t meant to be re-occurring, she still loved getting the tour of the place.

Just as she was about to get the rundown of what a day was like on set, Jared walked into the room sporting gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. Kary couldn’t help but stare as he stood talking to one of the producers. Her mouth watered at the way his pants hung low on his hips, and how his arm muscles seemed to almost burst through the sleeves of his shirt. Her mind drifted off to thought after dirty thought of him fucking her repeatedly against the nearest hard surface. Stephanie followed her gaze and chuckled.

“So, you like Jared hm?”

Kary blushed furiously and prayed to whoever was listening that Jared nor the producer had heard the comment.

“Yeah … I mean he’s umm … really tall.”

Steph giggled and took her arm, pulling her towards the two men.

“C’mon, let me introduce you. Jared always likes to meet the guest stars. Well, all the boys do, but Jared especially does.”

Karyne could feel her heart thudding hard against her chest as Stephanie approached them. It looked like they were reading over part of the script, but she couldn’t be sure since they were whispering. Jared turned and smiled at both of them once they got in their line of sight. He looked down at her warmly and extended his hand toward her.

“Well hi there! You must be the new guest star. Karyne is it?”

Kary took his hand in hers and admired how his fingers almost completely covered her smaller ones. His skin was warm and calloused, and she couldn’t stop the image of him pressing three of his thick digits into her aching pussy flashing through her mind. She bit her lip to stop a moan and didn’t miss how his eyes traveled down to her mouth.

“Yes I’m Karyne, but uhh everyone just calls me Kary. It’s umm … very nice to meet you, Jared.”

She took her hand back and nervously played with the hem of her shirt feeling his eyes on her. Even though she didn’t think he was meaning to, he really emanated dominance. Jared looked her up and down quickly before turning his attention to another crew member whom she hadn’t noticed until now.

“Hey Jare, they need you in hair and makeup. We start shooting in forty-five minutes.”

Kary watched as he gave her a little smirk and a wave before heading off down the hallway. Stephanie led her to the costume trailer so she could get fitted for her proper demon attire. She would be playing one of Crowley’s minions who had information on his whereabouts. Her character would get kidnapped by the Winchesters and get tortured for said info. If she was being honest, it’s the torture she was most excited for. She’d heard stories from her friends of how sexy Sam and Dean were when they were the least bit authoritative.

Soon she was sporting her character’s edgy outfit and was being led to the threshold of the Bunker’s cellar. Kary was fitted into some black skinny jeans that hugged her waist perfectly. The red tank top showed a smidgen of her midriff and accentuated her cleavage nicely. A pair of black stilettos and her hair falling in loose curls down her shoulders completed her look.  Neither of the boys were there yet, but they couldn’t be far behind. The anticipation of acting out this scene with them, especially Jared, was making her heart race.

A few moments later another crew member, who she could only assume worked somewhere in the prop department, strode in the small area carrying a thick coil of rope. The woman laid it on the lone desk and motioned for Kary to sit. Once she was seated, a couple other people came in to remove the everything but her and the wooden chair.

“Hello Kary, my name is Tori, have you ever been tied to a chair before?”

If she wasn’t so nervous, she would have laughed because damn what an introduction that was. Instead, she shook her head and held her arms out in front of her.

“It’s nice to meet you, Tori. No, I haven’t been, but I’m assuming you want me like this?”

Tori giggle and walked behind her and uncoiled the rope.

“Actually sweetie, I need you to put both wrists thru the openings in the back of the chair. I’m gonna tie your wrists back here instead. The rope will be kinda snug, but I don’t want you to be nervous. All you gotta do is say something and we will cut you free alright? Oh, and another thing, the boys can kinda be … what’s the word I’m looking for? … Intimidating, yes intimidating when it comes to torture scenes. If you need a break, don’t be afraid to let them know okay? They are hypersensitive to guest stars’ needs, and no one will blame you if you need to take a breather.”

Kary was glad everyone was so kind and approachable. This was probably one of the best sets she’s ever worked on. Just as Tori was securing the final knot on her restraints, Jensen, Jared, and Misha all walked in sporting their usual attire. They were all laughing about something but stopped when they noticed Kary sitting in the center of the Devil’s Trap.

She felt so exposed as they all stared at her. Jensen and Misha walked towards her, while Jared stayed rooted to the spot. Both men approached her and squatted down to her level, their smiles calming her overactive nerves.

“Hi, there sweetheart! It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Jensen, and this is Misha. You’re Kary, right? Jared told us he already got the pleasure of meeting you.”

She fixed her gaze on Jared who was blushing slightly. Turning her attention back to the two other leads in front of her, she gave them each a kind smile.

“It’s very nice to meet you both. I’d uh … I’d shake your hand, but I’m kinda tied up.”

Misha chuckled and patted her lightly on the thigh.

“With that sense of humor, you’ll fit right in!”

Just as she was about to come up with a witty reply, the director walked into the room with a clipboard.

“Okay, everyone, let’s get started shall we? We’ve only got Kary for a day, so let’s be on our best behavior today boys.”

Jensen and Jared both snickered while Misha rolled his eyes. They all took their places and took a minute to get into character. Kary closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before opening them again. She tested her bonds to set the scene and felt how they dug into the sensitive skin of her wrists.

Once action was called, Kary could definitely see a change in the boys’ demeanor. It was as if they were completely different people. Jensen approached her, his eyes dark with menace, and pulled a knife from one of his pockets. He circled the chair, the thud of his boots hitting the concrete like a slow metronome. Finally, he stopped and knelt down so his face was mere inches from her own. The knife rested against her chest, the hard plastic pressing into her sternum forcefully. Even though the knife looked very real, it was most certainly nothing of the sort. It even retracted into the hilt when it stabbed someone so it looked all the more real on screen.

“Now, listen here you bitch, my patience is running thin. Just tell me where Crowley is, and I won’t drag it out.”

Kary smiled maliciously and let out a guttural laugh.

“You Winchesters always think you can just bully the information out of us. Well, I’ve got news for you pathetic lumberjacks, you might as well kill me now because none of you are worth my time.”

Jensen took the knife and sliced open a particular spot in Kary’s outfit. It didn’t look like much now, but on screen, it would glow and sizzle for added effect. She squirmed and screamed, letting her breath become heavy before replaying through gritted teeth.

“Is that all you got? Guess I better go tell the other demons that Sam, Dean, and their pet angel are going soft.”

Jared’s upper lip curled into a snarl, and Kary felt herself become wet at the sight. She was sure her panties were ruined, but she didn’t break character. The taller of the three walked around to her backside, while Misha came up to Jensen’s flank. Kary focused on his chrome angel blade that suddenly appeared from his trench coat sleeve and tried to break her restraints again to make it look like she was now nervous.

She felt someone grab her hair and yank her head back to expose the delicate skin of her neck to Castiel’s blade. Jared leaned down until his mouth was right next to her ear, and it took all of her self control to stay in her demonic character.

“You gonna talk now or are we gonna have to force you? ‘Cause, believe me, my brother, Cas, and I aren’t the least bit scared of a lowlife demon like you.”

Kary bit her lip right as the director shouted cut. Tori came in to cut her free while the boys commended her on the scene. Apparently, that take was enough, because she was told she could go get changed out of her character’s clothes.

Once she was back in the guest trailer, she stripped off her clothes and folded them neatly on the dresser. She didn’t need to shower since she took one just that morning, but she did need to cool off after shooting. Jared’s power over her was almost too much. Plus, it had been a long time since she was touched by another person sexually.

Kary grabbed a hair tie from her wrist and twisted her hair up in it before stepping into the shower. The cool liquid soothed the aching need she felt, but it didn’t cure it. Jared did more things to her with just a look than any other man had ever done.

Once she was cooled off she wrapped a white fluffy towel around herself and stepped out into the bedroom. This is when she started to notice things that confused her. Little things like a pair of men’s shoes, a t-shirt, and then suddenly it hit her. She wasn’t in the guest trailer at all.

Fear coursed through her when she heard the trailer door open. She had nowhere to go, so she just stood there holding the towel closer to her naked body. She wasn’t prepared for the shocked look Jared gave her when he rounded the corner to his bedroom. He stared at her momentarily before taking a step closer to her shaking form.

“Kary? What … what are you doing?”

Karyne felt her lower lip begin to quiver, her eyes filling with tears of shame as he slowly got closer and closer to her. Once he was in front of her, she let a single tear fall. He watched as it cascaded down her cheek, wanting desperately to wipe it away but decided against it so he didn’t spook her.

“I … I’m sorry I didn’t … I thought …”

She felt strong arms envelop her in a hug, his fingertips sliding over her exposed shoulder blades lightly. Kary looked up at him and sighed when the pad of his thumb wiped her tear away. Jared never thought she looked more beautiful than in this moment. Her raw vulnerability struck a chord in him, and he slowly leaned in toward her lips.

The moment he kissed her, Kary felt like a grand finale of fireworks exploded inside her. She wrapped her arms around Jared’s neck and allowed him to carry her towards his queen size bed. He broke the kiss long enough to drop her down onto the mattress. Tearing his shirt quickly over his head and fumbling with his belt shouldn’t be sexy, but Kary was literally panting at the sight. Finally, Jared was standing bare before her, his hardness jutting out in front of him proudly.

He climbed on the bed supporting himself on his knees taking a moment to allow his eyes to travel over her body.

“You’re so fucking beautiful Kary. Wanted this since the moment I met you.”

Jared pulled her up so her nipples were pressed firmly against his chest, bringing them to hardened peaks. He began to roughly kiss her, pulling her hair like he did during the scene they shot earlier so he could kiss and suck at her pulse point. Kary cried out when he bit lightly at her neck and ground her pussy against the thickness of his cock.

He growled seductively and flipped them so she was on top of him. Jared motioned for her to turn around, and she looked at him confused.

“Wanna taste you, Kary. Wanna feel you cum on my face baby.”

She almost came by his words alone. No one had ever done this with her before. She’d barely done anything with a man before and had only slept with another person once. It wasn’t very enjoyable for her, so she never really tried to find anyone else. It hadn’t occurred to her that maybe the person she’d had relations with before had been doing it wrong. Kary got into position, placing each one of her knees parallel to Jared’s pectoral muscles. He greedily pulled her down and started relentlessly lapping at her soaked cunt. His strong arms held her in place as she writhed above him, crying out his name.

“Jar-Jared! Ahh! Fuck I-I’m close!!”

Kary was so caught up in the moment that she didn’t notice Misha standing in the bedroom’s threshold. For a moment, his jaw dropped at the sight before him, but he quickly felt himself hardening in his jeans. He began teasing his thickening cock through the denim, admiring how erotic the scene was before him. Misha continued to watch as Kary came undone on Jared’s mouth alone, her orgasm ripped through her like a current causing her to thrash and shake seductively.

“Fu-fuck!! JARED!!! Oh, shi-ahhh!!”

Kary climbed off Jared’s face and squealed when she was met with Misha’s lust blown eyes. Jared just smirked, clearly proud of himself for making the other man so worked up. He didn’t seem to be embarrassed at all, almost like he liked the thrill of getting caught.  

M-Misha?! What are you doing??”

His blue eyes darkened with want as he looked her up and down like she was prey.

“I could ask you the same thing Karyne, but right now I have something else in mind. Why don’t you be a good girl for Jared and I and kneel on the bed.”

Kary felt the familiar heat reignite in her abdomen as she climbed on the soft comforter, her knees spread slightly. Misha discarded his clothes slowly and pumped his cock a few times before standing in front of her. A bead of precum leaked out of the head, and she instinctively licked her lips.

“Be a good girl for us, and you’ll get rewarded sweetheart. Gotta do what we say though. Think you can do that?”

Kary nodded and looked up at Misha through her long lashes. Immediately she felt the sting of Jared’s hand land across her ass. She yelped, letting the lingering burn arouse her even more.

“I think Misha was waiting on an appropriate answer darlin’. How about you acknowledge him properly?”

Kary bit her lip and stuttered out what she hoped was the right answer.

“Y-Yes, sir.”

Misha groaned deeply and closed his eyes.

“Mmm good girl. Now open that pretty mouth of yours for me. I’ve wanted those perfect lips wrapped around me all afternoon.”

Soon they built up a rhythm. Misha fucked her mouth, while Jared teased her aching cunt with his tongue and fingers. He’d work her up to the point where she was about to tip over the edge but stopped right before she could. Kary pulled off Misha’s dick with an obscene pop to catch her breath. Before she could she felt two of his nimble fingers lift her chin up and saw his disapproving eyes.

“Oh sweetie, I didn’t tell you to stop did I? I think Jared’s gonna have to show you what happens when you disobey us.”

She whimpered when the tendrils of what had to be a whip slid over the curve of her ass. A second later, a loud crack filled the room as it blistered her skin. The impact of it sent a shockwave of heat straight to her core, her folds becoming slicker with need by the second.

“Pl-please … I’ll be a good girl sir. Please f-fuck me…”

Misha smirked and looked at Jared as he absentmindedly stroked his thick length.

“What do you think Jare? Should we give her what she needs? She has been pretty good.”

Jared ran his fingers over the pink welt that was now becoming visible on the flesh of her ass and licked his lips.

“I thought you’d never ask. Didn’t know how much longer I could wait.”

Misha chuckled and pushed Kary down onto the bed, admiring how her breasts bounced invitingly. He crawled over her and placed a loving kiss to her lips.

“I think you can wait a little longer, Jared. Seeing as you’ve already made her cum once, I think it’s my turn. Why don’t you go sit in that chair over there, and let me show you how it’s done.”

Kary thought for sure that he would argue with the other man, but surprisingly he didn’t protest at all. She watched as he took a seat and almost immediately begin running his hand over his sizable member. Her attention quickly reverted back to Misha as she felt his lips start to leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her body. He looked up into her eyes, marveling at her little whimpers and pleas from just his lips.

“Oh god… please …need to feel you…”

Misha settled himself between her legs and lined himself up before pushing into her tight heat. Kary’s back arched off the bed as he thrust into her relentlessly, not giving her time to adjust to his size. Her screams reverberated off the trailer’s walls, her hands gripping the sheets to stay grounded, as she felt herself close to the edge.

“Mish-ahhhh! Oh right there… I’m gonna… gon-ah!!”

Misha snarled, positioning himself so he was hitting her sweet spot over and over.

“C’mon sweetheart, cum for me. Fuck! Cum all over my cock baby!”

His words were like a switch, sending her into pure bliss. Her walls contracted around his cock almost making Misha lose his load, but he had other plans. He didn’t want to cum just yet. As soon as he pulled out of her Jared was on the bed. Kary squealed as he picked her up effortlessly and placed her on all fours. He leaned down over her shoulder and spoke praises in her ear.

“You did so good darlin’. Took Misha’s cock like a champ, but now you’re gonna take both of us. Gonna take both of our loads like a good girl.”

Misha kneeled in front of her while Jared lined up behind her. He slid inside her eager cunt ever so slowly making Kary feel every inch of him. Her breath was ragged, her eyes shut tight at the sensation. Once he was fully seated, she felt the tip of Misha’s dick press against her mouth. She opened on command and took as much of him as she could. Both men groaned at began a steady rhythm.

Kary felt so full, her eyes watering as Misha assaulted her mouth over and over again. The burn in her throat making her all the more stimulated. Jared’s hips began to stutter, and sweat dripped onto her body.

“Kary.. oh fuck… not gonna last… c’mon baby cum with me.”

Misha gripped her hair to hold her still as he guided his cock into her hot mouth, his own orgasm just around the corner. Jared pistoned into her bundle of nerves at a brutal pace, and suddenly felt Kary start to shake. Her cries became louder as he felt her walls contract around him. Just as he felt the first ropes of cum shoot into her, he felt another sensation. Kary’s own juices spilled out coating his cock and legs just as Misha spilled himself down her awaiting throat.

She was too tired to move, the feeling of euphoria still resonating at what just happened. Misha scooped her up as Jared pulled back the covers. Kary was laid down gently, the soft material soothing against her skin. Both men laid down on either side of her, relishing in the skin-on-skin warmth.

Even though her role on the show wasn’t meant to be long-lasting, Kary knew that being between these two men wasn’t just a one-time thing. The past few years had their ups and downs, but now she felt like she had something to live for. Jared and Misha were her missing link, and she drifted off to sleep knowing that she’d never be alone again.

[ramblinganthropologist]

Inktober Day 18 - Bottle

Summary: Acting is hard enough, especially when there’s fight scenes involved. Briala was ready for that punch to the gut, but not for what came after. Events from the night before bring on a whole new headache. Man, this is why she hates method actors.

---

There was nothing like band practice after filming to remind you just how fucking exhausted you were. Everything hurt, and that was putting it mildly. Even the parts she didn't have hurt. How the hell did she get a phantom ache in a limb she never had?

“You ok over there, Bri?”

Briala turned, muscles twinging. The bassist from her band, a short dwarven woman, had left just as she did. She managed a smile, but even that hurt.

“Just... worn out. We're doing a lot of action shit on set lately.”

Why did Avery Hawke have to be so goddamn active anyway? Briala spent half her time in costume climbing onto her costar like she was some kin of shoulder gremlin. When she wasn't doing that, she was running around in prop armor that probably weighed as much as the real shit, going through telegraphed fights and getting her ass kicked. To say she was tired... tired wasn't even the right word for it. She was fucking wiped.

“Don't break your vocal chords, we need you ready for Sunday.” The dwarf patted her on the back. “Get some rest. You look like shit.”

“Gee, thanks!” Briala stuck out her tongue as her band mate disappeared into the night. “Asshole.”

Sighing, she kept walking. It was a short distance to where she lived, and it wasn't like people knew her on sight yet anyway. There were plenty of elves with brown hair and blue eyes anyway – maybe they didn't have as much metal in their face as she did, but it took the heat off. It wasn't like she was a certain seven foot tall Antivan who couldn't avoid people if his life depended on it. For that, she was glad to be short; it was probably the only time in her life she was.

She was also thirsty. Practice had taken it out of her. However, much to Briala's displeasure when she made a grab for her water bottle, the condensation caused it to slip out of her hands. She swore as it smacked hard into her foot and rolled away.

“Oh come on, do I seriously gotta run some more?”

Groaning, the elf broke out into a slow jog to catch her water bottle as it rolled away thanks to the slight hill she had been standing on. At one point, it rolled out of her sight. However, the great thing about being elven  was being able to see in the dark. There it was, half hidden by a trash can it had bumped up against.

Sighing in relief, she reached down to grab it. “Now I'm even thirstier.”

Off went the lid, and into her mouth it went. However as  the first mouthful went down, Briala's eyes widened and she spat it out onto the ground. Rust and salt filled her mouth and made her want to throw up. But she didn't. She swallowed, and man did her stomach not like that. At least once it tried to get it up, but she kept it down.

Spitters were quitters.

“Gross... those fuckers must've messed with my bottle when I was in the bathroom.” Scowling, she unscrewed the lid and dumped it into the nearby sewer. “I'm gonna get them for sure the next time I see them. Now I've got this damn taste in my mouth and I'm still thirsty.”

Pouting a little, Briala returned to her path of heading for home where there would be plenty of not fucked with water for her to drink. After that, it would be another night of sleeping like she was dead, then filming in the morning. Lather, rinse, repeat.

---

B: Yo, whoever fucked with my bottle last night is a real asshole.

Nobody had answered her text in the group chat before Briala had to put away her phone. Into the hidden pocket of her prop armor it went. Hopefully when she got her ass beat, it wouldn't get knocked around. She really didn't want to have to redo this scene because modern technology reared its ugly head on the streets of Kirkwall during a street brawl.

“Don't kick me in the kidney this time, ok?” Malcolm was also in armor and waiting for her to climb on up. Briala didn't quite have Avery's legendary technique worked out, but she did well enough. Up she went, and soon she was sitting on her costar's shoulders. In a few seconds, she would be launching straight into the fake fight and then it would be go time.

“Don't have your kidney where my foot is.” Briala grimaced as she held her stomach as a passing pain made her wonder if her appendix was about to go nuclear. It left her soon enough, but she made a note to check it out later. “Anyway, get ready. It's almost go time.”

It was a long way to the ground from Malcolm's massive shoulders. Add in the fact she'd be jumping off... and well it wasn't as if she was afraid of heights, but damn if Avery Hawke hadn't been an extra little bitch. They had told her when she signed on it be pretty active, but this was just ridiculous. Plus, what with her stomach and all, she could already feel the urge to throw up returning. Hopefully it wouldn't be on her costar – he wouldn't like that. Plus, retake and all that.

As she said – really wanted to do this in one shot. There was only so many times she could launch herself off a full grown man in one day.

The director called action from off set, and then there they were in the middle of Kirkwall's Lowtown, circa 9:31 Dragon. Just as it was written on the script, the gang advanced. Behind them was a tied up elf – Hawke's cousin. From where Briala was sitting, they looked quite realistic. Then again, from where she was sitting she could also see where the Velcro was.

It was a toss up sometimes.

“Didn't think you two would actually show up.” Head bozo, actually a pretty chill guy, pointed his finger at them. “Alright, now drop the 20 sovereigns and back away. Nobody has to get hurt today.”

Up on Malcolm's shoulders, Briala smirked and leaned hard on her Ferelden roots. “Oh, I think you gave up that option when you tied Eth up. Now, if anyone doesn't want to go see the healer, I'd advise you to leave now.”

They didn't, of course. Instead, one of them took a choreographed step forward. Then came the sword, fake, swinging straight at Malcolm's midsection. He blocked with his staff, and that was her cue. In the blink of an eye, Briala stood, made a grab for her prop sword, and in one jump launched off her costar's shoulders just as he pulled his staff back.

The prop swords met – sound effects would be added later – and the grunt she had been tasked to land on fell back as promised. He cushioned her fall, but there was still a mild ache in her ankles. Still, off she went, shield now on her arm and ready to go.

“Have it your way then!”

The fight was now on – team Hawke vs team assholes. Every time Briala's sword was hit, she felt the vibrations all the way through the arm she had. Instead of wearing her out like it normally did, she felt even more ready to go. She leaned into the weird adrenaline rush – might as well. The next part hurt. It was written on script she got punched in the gut by an opportunistic gang member. No cushioning made it much better.

The dull thump to her gut dropped her to her knee. She wasn't seeing stars, though. Something was bubbling up in her stomach like she was about to throw up. It wasn't vomit, though – her entire body felt hot, almost as if it was boiling in her prop armor. The overhead lights weren't doing this as she managed to rocket up, both feeling and not feeling the sensation of pain at the same time.

Kick that guy's ass.

That was what her instincts said – choreography evaporated from her mind. Instead she just launched forward with more speed that she had ever felt in her life. Her prop sword might have been fake, but it still probably hurt when she smacked down with all her weight.

“Cut!”

Briala didn't stop, not until Malcolm grabbed her moments later. The guy on the floor had a bloody nose, a black eye, and looked absolutely terrified. He wasn't the only one – she was struggling hard, instinct screaming kick that guy's ass.

It wasn't until she saw her own reflection in Malcolm's fake armor that she realized something was wrong. Her pupils were dilated and a red tinge had taken over her eyes. When had her incisors been that sharp either?

Her costar carried her off stage past stunned crew and cast. He eventually plopped her down far away from the fight, keeping close should she try to bolt for it. Briala just sunk down against the wall, energy spent. Whatever had gone on was over now. The pain was back too.

“Oww...”

Malcolm shook his head as he sat down so they could have an actual eye to eye conversation. Otherwise, she would have been looking at his belly button. He gave her the once over, lingering on her face. His eyebrows knit together, but he said nothing.

Briala rubbed her sore gut to lessen the pain. “He got me good.”

“You got him better. He's lucky you didn't break something.” Malcolm was still looking at her. “Did you drink anything weird?”

Huh.

The smaller actor's mind felt like soup right then. Higher reason was kind of out of the picture. However, she heard the words 'drink' and 'weird' which were enough. The image of the night before struck her almost as hard as the fist.

The bottle.

Working out words was a little easier with time. “My water bottle tasted weird last night after it got away from me. I had to dump it out before I went home.”

“What did it taste like?”

The answer came not from words but a dull realization. Sometime during the fight, Briala's teeth had bit down hard on the inside of her cheek. It wasn't a bad bite, but it was hurt enough to bleed. It was that same salty, rust-tinged flavor she had experienced the night before, and it was enough to make her head snap up.

Red eyes, sharp teeth... shit.

“Shit. I think someone gave me blood.”

Malcolm nodded, no doubt coming to the same realization. “Dragon blood, to be exact. Didn't think you could still get that today, but your little power play out there says otherwise.”

Briala's stomach rolled, and it wasn't from the punch. She wasn't a mage like Malcolm, but she knew enough about her character's life to put the pieces together. Part of why she had to be such a crazy asshole in a fight was that Avery Hawke was a reaver. While she didn't understand how it worked, something about drinking dragon's blood and being in pain triggered the rush of strength and adrenaline that made the champion's fights so dramatic.

Now she understood those passage in Avery's diary about the sudden surge that had pushed her forward in her most deadly fights. If she was right... she swallowed past the lump in her throat at the thought. Well, it wasn't good.

“Guess I'm gonna need a trip to the healer after this, huh?”

Yeah, for a blood test. Hopefully in the Digital Age they had somehow figured out a test for reaver that didn't involve an orderly being punched. Still, Briala couldn't worry about that now. There was an asshole out there with dragon's blood who apparently had a hard on for giving it to people. Was she the only one? Or was there more out there?

Man, she really didn't need to think about this now. Her head hurt enough without being victim zero of a reaver creation spree. Talk about taking method acting a step too far. Her only hope was that the effects were temporary. After all, she had only had a little bit... something like a permanent boost should take more.

At least... she hoped so. That was how it worked, right?

[thefeministherald]

The cast of Arrested Development is currently doing the promotional rounds for the new season of the show on Netflix, but given Tambor’s recent firing from Transparent over allegations of sexual harassment, questions regarding his on-set behavior on both shows were bound to come up. In a recent interview between the New York Times and much of the cast, Tambor called these questions a “distraction.” Unfortunately, and unsurprisingly, his male castmates seemed, largely, to agree.

In what NYT’s Sopan Deb described as “a freewheeling, at times emotional conversation that had the air of a family Thanksgiving dinner,” Jessica Walter (Lucille Bluth) made note early on that “there’s so much testosterone in this room.”

While that reads as a joke, the truth of it is clear in the interview. It wasn’t just in how much the men dominated the conversation word-count wise, though they did. (The interview was comprised of edited excerpts, so the full conversation could have been more balanced. Alia Shawkat, who barely speaks at all in the interview as published, definitely had at least one interesting excerpt cut.)

The interview starts to get incredibly uncomfortable when Deb asks about the Transparent allegations. It’s not uncomfortable because of what’s being asked, but rather because it reads as if two separate conversations are happening. One in which Walter (and Shawkat, briefly) is trying to engage directly with the subject, and one where the men present are dismissing it.

It starts when Deb askes Tambor, “if there’s another season, do you expect to be a part of it?” Tambor says he would hope so, while Bateman interjects multiple times, saying he wouldn’t do the show without Jeffrey and that “there’s no reason he shouldn’t” be in another season.

Many of the show’s men–Bateman, David Cross, and creator Mitch Hurwitz, most notably–have made it clear that they don’t think much of the accusations of sexual harassment made against Tambor. Interestingly, though, that’s barely even discussed here. Instead, Deb chooses to ask about Tambor’s recent interview with The Hollywood Reporter, in which he admitted yelling at directors, assistant directors, and even Jill Soloway. He also mentioned a “blowup” with Jessica Walter while filming Arrested Development, something she hadn’t spoken about before. But it’s Bateman, not Tambor, that responds.

BATEMAN: Which we’ve all done, by the way.

WALTER: Oh! You’ve never yelled at me.

BATEMAN: Not to belittle what happened.

WALTER: You’ve never yelled at me like that.

BATEMAN: But this is a family and families, you know, have love, laughter, arguments — again, not to belittle it, but a lot of stuff happens in 15 years. I know nothing about “Transparent” but I do know a lot about “Arrested Development.” And I can say that no matter what anybody in this room has ever done — and we’ve all done a lot, with each other, for each other, against each other — I wouldn’t trade it for the world and I have zero complaints.

The conversation starts to move on, with Arnett and Cross jumping in, before Walter makes them back up, asking Deb directly, “What was your point about that, though?”

NYT: If someone approached you and said, “O.K., here’s an actor that admits he routinely yells at directors, at assistant directors, at co-workers, assistants,” would you hire that person?

TAMBOR: I would hire that person if that person said, you know, “I’ve reckoned with this.”

Well, that’s a pretty easy answer to give when you’re the hypothetical in question. Bateman, unprovoked, once again jumps in. “Again, not to belittle it or excuse it or anything,” he says, and then proceeds to belittle all complaints that have made against Tambor. He talks about “context” and the “amorphous process” of acting and how “difficult” people are so common in this industry. I cannot express how poorly Bateman comes off in this interview.

Jason Bateman: “Well, that interview went great!” Narrator: “It didn’t.”

Here’s the heart of the conversation:

BATEMAN: [Acting is] a weird thing, and it is a breeding ground for atypical behavior and certain people have certain processes.

SHAWKAT: But that doesn’t mean it’s acceptable. And the point is that things are changing, and people need to respect each other differently.

WALTER [THROUGH TEARS]: Let me just say one thing that I just realized in this conversation. I have to let go of being angry at him. He never crossed the line on our show, with any, you know, sexual whatever. Verbally, yes, he harassed me, but he did apologize. I have to let it go. [Turns to Tambor.] And I have to give you a chance to, you know, for us to be friends again.

TAMBOR: Absolutely.

WALTER: But it’s hard because honestly — Jason says this happens all the time. In like almost 60 years of working, I’ve never had anybody yell at me like that on a set. And it’s hard to deal with, but I’m over it now. I just let it go right here, for The New York Times.

BATEMAN: She didn’t give it up for anybody else.

HALE: But I will say, to Jason’s point, we can be honest about the fact that — and not to build a thing — we’ve all had moments.

WALTER: But not like that, not like that. That was bad.

HALE: Not like that. But I’m saying we’ve worked together 15 years, there has been other points of anger coming out.

BATEMAN: Exactly. Again, there is context. What we do for a living is not normal, and therefore the process is not normal sometimes, and to expect it to be normal is to not understand what happens on set. Again, not to excuse it, Alia, but to be surprised by people having a wobbly route to their goal, their process — it’s very rarely predictable. All I can say, personally, is I have never learned more from an actor that I’ve worked with than Jeffrey Tambor. And I consider him one of my favorite, most valued people in my life.

The NYT has released audio of part of that exchange, and it’s honestly pretty difficult to listen to. As Bateman continually interjects to explain why Walter’s own experiences weren’t as bad as she thinks, and as the other men in the cast rush to back him up, to find ways to explain and normalize abusive behavior so they can wrap that conversation up and put it behind them, they are totally ignoring the fact that Walter–a woman who has been a professional actor longer than Bateman has been alive–is actually trying to work through her feelings in order to be able to do just that.

The whole thing reads and sounds like kids trying to deflect and distract from their parents’ fighting. Except these aren’t kids. They’re grown men, refusing to acknowledge the severity of the abuse present not just in their industry, but on their set.

Here’s audio of Jessica Walter CRYING, standing up for herself after all the men in the AD cast try to gaslight her into thinking Tambor’s harassment isn’t THAT bad. This is horrific.

Walter is trying to have a very specific conversation head-on, while her male colleagues insist on talking around the issue at hand. It’s incredibly frustrating to read and listen to, and will likely feel familiar to many women who don’t have to have been in this exact situation to know what it feels like to have your feelings minimized and explained to you, to see people work so hard to maintain the status quo when all you want is a simple acknowledgement of your reality. The way Walter refuses to back down is inspiring–as is Alia Shawkat, standing her ground in a room of older male colleagues–but it’s disheartening to see these men ignore and dismiss her, clearly not even realizing that that’s what they’re doing.

Bateman, for his part, issued an apology late last night. (As did Tony Hale.) In a series of tweets, he wrote:

Based on listening to the NYT interview and hearing people’s thoughts online, I realize that I was wrong here. I sound like I’m condoning yelling at work. I do not. It sounds like I’m excusing Jeffery. I do not. It sounds like I’m insensitive to Jessica. I am not. In fact, I’m horrified that I wasn’t more aware of how this incident affected her. I was so eager to let Jeffrey know that he was supported in his attempt to learn, grow and apologize that I completely underestimated the feelings of the victim, another person I deeply love – and she was sitting right there! I’m incredibly embarrassed and deeply sorry to have done that to Jessica. This is a big learning moment for me. I shouldn’t have tried so hard to mansplain, or fix a fight, or make everything okay. I should’ve focused more on what the most important part of it all is – there’s never any excuse for abuse, in any form, from any gender. And, the victim’s voice needs to be heard and respected. Period. I didn’t say that and instead said a bunch of other stuff and not very well. I deeply, and sincerely, apologize.

This apology is … fine. It’s frustrating to see Bateman claim that he just sounded like he was condoning and excusing Tambor’s behavior. He wasdoing those things. He was being insensitive to Walter and whether he was cognizant of it at the moment or not, he was working hard to silence her as she tried to speak about the verbal harassment she experienced. When we talk about ending systemic harassment and abuse, it’s not just the abusers that have to change. It’s also those who are complicit in maintaining an environment that doesn’t allow women to speak out when abuse happens. And that’s exactly what Bateman was doing here.

Anyway, I’m glad Bateman has had a “learning moment,” and I hope that’s genuine and not just a PR scramble, but it sure would be nice if every man didn’t have to go through their own individual public embarrassment to learn how to listen to women.