#second gif looks like a photo but really its a gif; that scene literally was that shot

[thenormalspot]

my head canon castings for a live-action life series (with pictures for reference) based on mostly looks but also sometimes personality as a bonus. also I know this is not realistic in any capacity but it’s silly and fun and enrichment for me tehe. also some of the photos i edited with a really shitty software and it looks bad but its just to convey the message im not an artist (also unfortunately this is only part 1 because i can only put so many photos in a post at a time)

1) Grian

okay hear me out because i said this list was not going to be realistic but i think young damon albarn would make a good grian for some reason. i think irl damon is like almost 6 feet tall but in my head grian's character is short so pretend he's not that tall for the plot. HE JUST MAKES SUCH A GOOD GRIAN TO ME LOOK AT THE LAST PIC THAT IS literally a red jumper

2) Scar

Tom Welling from his Smallville days IDK I JUST THINK IT FITS OKAY like he’s even having to put a shirt on in this gif that’s so gtws coded (also so many of his pictures are shirtless??) but yeah i think live action scar would have to be portrayed by a beefy conventionally attractive man and that’s all i have to say on that

3) Bdubs

Rami Malek as bdoubleo because i feel like he could nail the delivery and also he's like 5'7 which is shorter than most of the people on this list. also just imagine rami in a moss coat. ALSO they both have the big beautiful eyes so i think it fits so on and so on

4) Joel

I am electing jon snow himself to play joel because a) idk and b) the last pic really sold me. just imagine a green streak in his hair and some mania and we have ourselves maybe a joel

5) Mumbo

okay listen first of all it's really hard to find actors with brilliant mustaches and second of all andrew garfield as mumbo makes a lot of sense to me. i think with black hair he would look a lot more like the part and i also think he would be able to nail mumbo's nervous and sometimes awkward energy and be generally silly and chuffed about shit

6) Lizzie

i kind of like natalie dormer for lizzie. i don't really have much else other than it really makes sense in my brain, but i really like it so lizzie is going to be natalie dormer because i make the rules in my brain

7) BigB

i am saying micheal b. jordan because i think he emulates bigb's charm. literally i think bigb has the same effect on life series members *cough* grian *cough* as micheal b. jordan does to most people.

8) Martyn

idk why but i like paul mescal for martyn. i feel like he would be able to play martyn's crazier arcs well (like his LimL ending) and would generally just be a martyn??? like i said chat idk but in my head it makes sense. IMAGINE HIM EATING UP A RED ARMY SCENE W/ REN THE DRAMA !!!

anyways the editing sucks and the casting is wack as hell BUT in my head this is the first round of life series members as live-action so here it is

[nowordsformylove]

jonesmith analysis ep 16-30 (part 2)

this one is somehow longer and sillier than the last one. be ready

episode 16... rough episode but it gives.

lots of Davy being grabby and touchy in this one.

waist touch scene he does it twice btw and I dont fault him bc Mike does have a very grabbable waist.

Mike completely overshooting how short Davy is so that he can be eye level with his boobs.

this awkward high-five thing Mike tries to do.

ep 17 love this ep it gave us Mike grabbing Davy's inner thigh and Davy's shirt riding up.

this frame where it looks like they just got interrupted while making out. the way this ep was a jolenzmith spa day (poor Peter deserves a spa day too).

REMEMBER ALWAYS USE PROTECTION‼️

ep 18

the scene where they're all watching tv and Mike says "This isn’t bad considering, is it, Davy?" plays very well into my headcanon that they like to watch old silly movies together. also this:

ep 19 not much to say here, Mike does come out of Davy and Peter's room at the beginning so im curious what he was doing, and then theres this scene of Davy making a silly face at Mike.

ep 20 yeahh baby

"you'll do fine, sugar." <- this line put me into a coma.

love how he just walks into the group of interviewers and grabs Davy by the scruff.

THIS SCENE where he literally lifts Davy and then sets him on his lap. love love love

ALSO THIS SCENE. it's so sweet 🥹 "youre gentle youre kind and youre sincere" wahhhhh

ep 21 this episode back to back with the last one ohh boy

Mike calling Davy "Mr. Charm" cute.

another "I'm gonna stay here with Davy, you two go back to the pad." split-up situation. cant leave his bf all alone when he has to pretend to be the ruler of a country. Mike also spends the whole episode fussing over Davy and fixing his clothes 🤭 gifs here.

also this was a fake royalty red-blue joint slay outfit moment

ep 22

"MIIIIKEEE! MIKE! That guy was throwing knives at me he couldve killed me why didnt you do something?!!"

the way Mike runs his hands over him to check if hes okay.

ep 24

"what we wanna do is show what you are and the way you live" "what you wanna get us arrested?" because they live a faggot life style full of gay sex.

also "The Monkees are the typical fun people. The devoon madcap boys for whom every day is just one gay adventure." not jonesmith specific but its funny to me and i think it aged splendidly.

not much else in this ep but i do love these frames

ep 26 this one has A LOT

as pointed out HERE Mike just had to put his hand on Davy's hip for a second hmm.

very touchy in this ep

a wonderful array of silly costumes

boob touch ^

another lovely scene of Davy calling out to Mike for help 🫶

ep 27 shirt rip scene.

^ love these frames especially the second one cause Mike looks so cute. Davy is thinking that too.

ep 29

ep 30 didn't really have anything BUT this behind the scenes photo that looks like the beginning of a porno was from this episode

[guksuu]

himchan’s quiet reading time

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ THE SHOT ❜

Final chapter of ‘Someone you loved’ with Michael ‘Riz’ Ariza.

Warnings: none.

Word count: about 1.5k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to my wonderful @sonsofeorl ✨

Masterlist. You can subscribe to my broadcast list, to be notified whenever I post a writing!

You are already tucked in your bed, pajamas on, lights off and your body almost asleep in a concrete position, when your phone starts to ring. No way. You're not going to move, not even your eyelashes, so you try to ignore it until it stops to sound. The music disappears at the same time that your room is immersed again in the darkness, with the blinds completely rolled down. Burying your face in the pillow, you grumble with a hoarse sound that is born deep down in your throat, when the call happens again. Palming your nightstand to grab the phone, opening one eye, you read your father's name on the screen. Closing it again, you answer placing the phone over your ear. No hand holding it, just resting on it.

“Wha'?” You mutter with a sleepy tone.

“Need you to come to Vicki's house”.

“And I need to die, but life ain't fair, dad”.

“Riz has been shot”.

Suddenly sitting up, it takes you only one damn second to toss the blankets to the floor and jump out of your bed. With your heart about to have an attack, pumping faster than it can handle, you don't even change your clothes but put on a pair of sneakers. Running to the entrance, you only grab your keys and the black helmet from the coat rack. Wearing it, you continue the fast strides to your motorcycle. Your fingers are shaking, your throat is dry and your mind is totally blank. Turning on the engine, you speed up joining the road, knowing the way to Vicki's house better than the club's one.

You have never been a believer, but you're praying every single prayer you know. As if Bishop had confirmed to you that he is dead or about to, the day you met plays in front of your eyes like the scene of a movie. Exceeding the speed limit without caring about encountering a patrol, you cross the Calexico desert in the middle of the night. Darkness all around, with the moonlight barely illuminating your path, soon you can glimpse a row of houses, with a lot of motorbikes and a van parked there. Throwing yours to the floor after turning off the engine, you jump the stairs coming desperately into the house.

“RIZ? RIZ! DAD!”

You can't stop yelling, trying to find someone when you notice that the house is empty. All the lights are one, but there's no one inside it. Your gaze is blurred because of the bunch of tears you're uttering. Your throat now is filled up with a lot of saliva, feeling the anxiety hitting your body. Going upstairs, you open every door there. Nothing.

“RIZ! ARIZA!”

You're losing your temper, coming back to the living room to continue to the kitchen.

“DAD! DAD, WHERE ARE YOU?”

Almost choking with the tears flooding onto your lips, hiccuping with an incessant surf of pain breaking within your chest, you palm your torso and your thighs looking for your phone. But you don't have it. Remembering to have left it forgotten on your bed. Grabbing the landline and dialing the number, you wait for your father to answer. The tones pass you to the voicemail, after an endless waiting, tossing the device over the counter. You're about to falter, pressing a hand close to your collarbone. That grief feels like if something is breaking inside you into hundreds and hundreds of pieces. Turning around over your own steps, looking everywhere, you try to focus. To think about where else you can go. Your legs move this time to the rear door, straight to the back yard. The silent outside is literally killing you, touring the alley until flooding into the courtyard.

With parted lips and almost shocking, you look at the small light bulbs hanging from the walls and the trees. Frowning confused, you can't remember if that kind of lighting was there last time you came. But you don't even care. There's nothing much to roam to, cleaning your tears with the back of your hand, you turn again with the intention of coming back to the house and call Bishop again. The angst is clotting the blood inside your veins, barely filling your lungs with the fresh air of the desert, trying to figure out where the hell are the crew. Their bikes are there, so they can't be too far.

“Don't hit me, please”.

At that exact moment, your heart stops pumping for two seconds. Riz is in front of you, some steps away. Both hands raised, in case he has to defend himself, and a worried gesture on his face. Your eyes travel all around his anatomy, looking for blood, a wound, anything. But he is okay. He looks like he's fine. Bowing down your head and covering your face with both hands, your loud becomes louder. You don't have to be a genius to know that your father has played a dirty and macabre game on you. The knot within your stomach disappears, but the sorrow is still installed on its mouth. Two arms embrace you slowly, feeling his fingertips sliding on your back until he can finally hold you against his chest.

“Sorry”. He whispers with a broken tone of voice. “It wasn't my idea, but… you have been a week without answering my calls or my texts… Bishop thought it was the only option to make you come”.

You don't utter a single word. You can. You're still immersed into the shock of their lies and the pain they have provoked you. And you are not sure at all about how many time you have been just like that, letting Riz hug you in silence; caressing your back, your hair, your head. Soft and gentle moves that comforts and calms you. Slowly pulling himself away, he holds your hands by intertwining his fingers with yours, guiding you to a hammock. Sitting by your side, he cleans your tears left stuck on your cheeks, and you can't help but cling your arms around his neck again. You have missed him more than anything in your life. These days without knowing anything about him, without seeing him, without hearing his voice, has been the worst time you have been through. His scent is intense, swelling up your lungs by having a deep breath of it with your nose sink on his neck. Feeling like this gesture is bringing you back to life.

Riz kisses your cheeks, your temples, your forehead, all your face. And cupping it onto his hands, with the cold rings pressed against your skin, he places his lips on yours to your surprise. But he doesn't move. He just stays like that for some seconds, after starting to peck them. You're sitting on the hammock like an effigy, trying to find a way to wake up from this dream.

“I always… carry our first... photo together… in a pocket... of the kutte… every time I go... on a run”. He confesses between short kisses, marking every inch of your lips until erasing the sad gesture installed on them. Touching your nose with his, he can finally breathe. “I don't want to live without you. You complete me, your life completes mine. There's nobody else I want to be with for the rest of my life that it isn't you. I want to hear you calling me Rizzy anytime I'm not paying attention to you. I want to wake up with you, clinged to me like a fucking koala. I want to look at you all the damn time and say shit, she chose me over everybody. And kiss you, and hug you, and love you even afterlife. You're my other half, mi vida, mi amor, el único sentido que le encuentro a la existencia”.

You are sobbing against his neck, not capable of replying any word he's saying to you. Not even when you feel who he loosens his grip, looking for something inside a pocket. Pulling himself away some inches, he takes your right hand to put a small golden ring in your finger. Pouting at him, you can see Riz softly smiling.

“I don't want to live without you”. He repeats again, leaning forward to catch your lips with his.

This time, you kiss him back, urging you to sit on his lap to surround your waist with both arms; embracing you with all his strength, believing for a moment that you two could melt into just one body.

“I'm so so—sorry”. You cry against his mouth.

“Fuck, no. It was my fault”. Riz shakes his head, cupping your cheek into his hands. “And it's not like I was let you leave my side. I would follow you till the end of times, mi amor”.

“I love you… I really do”. You mumble resting your forehead against his.

“I love you too… Even if you have fucked me up badly this last week. Maybe I deserved it for being a pendejo”.

Giggling and sniffing, you wrap his back with both arms, resting your head on his chest. Closing your eyes, feeling calmed.

“Don't kill your father, ah?” He says then, licking his bottom lip. You chuckle again.

“I will try, but I can't promise it”.

[harry-strickland]

BEFORE COLORING VS AFTER COLORING

tagged by: @youmissedthewholeshow thanks bby (sorry its taken me like a month) ❤️❤️❤️

so i guess i do the basic exposure, brightness/contrast and vibrance adjustments to start with?? then it really depends on what the scene is from... personally im a big fan of vibrancy, so i just figure out what i want the colors to look like and most of the time that just means bringing out the background colors and making it pop

then i just go wild and abuse the hell out of the selective color settings?? but sometimes (like the middle gifs) i play around with a photo filter to add more color that you’re just not getting from the selective color. i have literally no system for using photo filter, sometimes it works and other times it does, i just play around until i find what works!! 

once ive got those main colors sorted i usually add a second lot of exposure, brightness/contrast and vibrance, and play around a little with curves to finish it off. oh and selective color on blacks is a classic to help make it all pop a bit more, and i usually only put it up a lil bit and that does the trick

tagging: @stewy-hosseini @basilone @theverakeller @onelungmcclung @shivapologist (if you want!)

[idga-buck]

use somebody || two

pairing: harry x plus-size!reader

word count: 1,900

warnings: mentions of sex, douchebaggery, and shitty attitudes towards women.

summary: it’s been weeks and even though he knows better, harry still thinks about you

challenge: @baezen​‘s the Other Guys Writing Challenge

previous masterlist next

gif: @ransomflanagan

Running into you again seemed like a pipe dream. At least until it happened, but Harry had given up on the idea long before then. As he relayed the morning after to Nikki, his friend told him to stop overthinking it. You got laid and you got a good day out of it, what else could you possibly want? An ironic question coming from the guy who’d just gotten back from a four night camping trip that pushed him over the edge and ended the almost three week fling with a bang. Literally. In his annoyance, he kicked a cooler over and three bottles of homemade moonshine broke next to the campfire. He was lucky no one got hurt and Harry… he tried not to laugh, but if there was one thing Nikki was good at, it was making a dramatic exit. It was hard not to take his friends’ words to heart, so he swallowed them. Nikki was right. He met a girl, they had their fun, and the next day he woke up in a king suite, not a cinder block basement with someone trying to wear his skin like a pair of tights. You couldn’t ask for much else in those situations.

Your unexpected rejection stung, no more than any of the others, but the next time he saw you, it was all forgiven. Harry hadn’t realized that his eyes would look for you, but not so he can keep his distance. The opposite. You’d been fun, genuinely funny and it was a trait he forgot he could expect from a woman. So many of these fresh out west girls were terrified of saying the wrong thing and being fedexed right back to Duluth or Kokomo or Sioux Falls or whatever boring midwestern city they’d escaped. The city feels smaller when you’re born there, when you belong. It was just his hometown, not the dreamscape everyone painted it out to be. Most people’s photo op was his childhood memory and he liked it like that. It was just about the only way he felt superior to anyone around him. He’d never be the wealthiest in the room, but he’d always have seniority.

This night was no exception. The party was filled with the future faces of Hollywood, but for now, everyone was a no one who wanted to be someone. Those kinds of gatherings usually annoyed him, but there was music and drinks and no cover charge like the cars and clubs, so he rarely said no when someone snagged an invite. The guys he’d rolled up with were already lurking, watching everyone move and mingle to determine their game for the night. Garret was practicing an accent behind him and Harry spun to punch him in the arm. It was lazy, but effective. Especially with the new girls, whose dream it was to be mistaken for a local, to show some attractive foreigner all the spots they’d been shown during their first “tour.” He laughed loudly, as his friend snatched a glass from the hand of a practically orange mass of muscle wearing sunglasses at night and stumbled over to a fluttering circle of short skirts. It wouldn’t take long for Garret to be coated in their body glitter and the small crew jeered as one small manicured hand slipped up to his neck after only introductions. Marcus slinked over toward the bar next, his shiny bald head and thick black stubble was more than enough to bring the attention to him. His confidence and blinding white smile, paired with a heathered grey t shirt that barely contained his thick pecs, which he could make dance for the entertainment of many ladies, Harry looked away quickly, knowing it was only a matter of time before someone snatched up the effortless charmer too. Nikki remained with him near the entrance. His charm required a lot of effort. Harry had never had a friend that he liked as much as he hated, but that was Nikki’s sweet spot, Operating from behind always as if the self loathing fueled his desire to win someone over. He’d seen it work too many times to count, but Harry still couldn’t believe it. His friend never took know for an answer and just when you thought he’d struck out for the 17th time with the same woman, she’d slide away from him with a “come get me” smile and Nikki’s whole universe was her for the next hour or so.

“They’re back,” Nikki’s shoulder collided with his, nudging Harry in the direction of the friends they’d run into over the last few weeks. He watched them all file in, waving their IDs too quickly to actually be checked as they started dancing before their feet hit the dance floor. It was embarrassing, but he knew that if he was sleeping with one of them, he’d call it adorable. There was always one or two of the group who entered the scene like adults and he couldn’t figure out the group’s dynamic for the life of him. They travelled together, drank together, and seemed to enjoy each other’s company, but it was clearly fragmented and the connection was a mystery. On occasion, you’d be with the girls who shook their heads at the others, but with big smiles nonetheless. Sometimes the whole group could be convinced to dance. It was easier after taking shots. Harry was surprised to see that you weren’t with them tonight. Even more surprising- the disappointment he felt as he rose up onto his toes, hoping he’d just missed your entrance, and still didn’t see you. “Marissa’s pissed at me, so-“

“Maritza,” Harry corrected mindlessly, eyes still on the group his friend would actively avoid for the rest of the night. More disappointment. Nikki had a system, but sometimes, if a girl was particularly disinterested he required back up. That’s where Harry stepped in with enough resistance to still make him feel like a good person, but not so much that he wasn’t a good friend. Hanging around Nikki often made him choose, but he couldn’t complain. It was how he met you and how he’d managed to run into you again.

There were the casual run ins. The nods from across a busy room that led nowhere or the greetings so short that he really couldn’t tell if you even remembered sleeping with him. It gave him an inexplicable rush of embarrassment every time he saw you and it hadn’t led to more. You didn’t even use his name and it frustrated him more than it made sense to.

It had been weeks since that night, but the first time he got the chance to talk to you- really talk to you- he hoped it would lead to more. Even more than that, he hoped you wanted that too.

--

The up and comer was flirting his ass off, saying all the right things when you walked up to another one of your friends. Harry couldn’t remember who it was yeah time, Sheila maybe, the one covering her mouth after nearly spitting out the shot some guy in tight pants slid over to her. Once you’d approached though, Nikki was treading water. Nothing he said ever made much sense, but it was a lot more obvious when one of your girlfriends is contradicting him at every turn. Harry wasn’t even looking for his friend before he felt the back of his pin striped vest being yanked hard. He half stumbled into the conversation and was promptly introduced to you. You you. The same you he’d sweat and sighed with, but here he was extending his hand like an idiot. First to you, then Sheila, no, Sherrie, yeah Sherrie with an “ie” like Cherry she’d claimed, to which Harry with a “y” laughed when you’d all but slapped your own forehead at her statement. You’d laughed at his introduction though, smiled at his attempts to lightly poke fun without bringing too much attention to the mistake. Nikki saw the smile and moved quickly, dragging Harry off to the bar for another round after commanding the girls to stay put.

“Fall on it.”

“On what?”

“The grenade.”

Harry frowned and looked back toward the girls they’d just left. “No,” he said simply without looking away. You were rounder than the blonde bean pole next to you, but he’d hardly consider you the ugly friend. There was something sweet about the way you were protecting your friend from an idiot like Nikki and if Harry liked him even a little bit more, he might do the same from time to time. But he didn’t and was content to watch him crash and burn if that was what fate had in store. Sherrie was very clearly Nikki’s type. He liked long legs and small breasts, tinier the better. He said it made the girls a little self conscious and eager to please. Harry wasn’t even shocked at half the shit he heard anymore. He wasn’t picky, maybe a little too loose at times, falling fast for the girls who’d break his heart if they managed to last long enough. He tried the one night stand thing… and he’d probably try it again too. At least until he got it right. He’d yet to decide if you were one he got right or wrong. Your reaction the next morning made him lean towards wrong, but you weren’t pushing him away now and he thought maybe it’d be worth a second round. For science. Romance wasn’t what he was looking for, but when it was absent, he picked up on it and usually found a way to sabotage the whole thing. Maybe it was what he was looking for, but you can’t just tell a girl that. It was only half conscious, but he saw himself making the same mistakes over and over again, pissing off women and being left with less cards than he started with. Watching you talk to your friend over and between the shoulders of smug idiots with fake tans and gelled up hair, he was weighing the pros and cons of continuing down this road and risking pissing you off too. Running you away just like the others… for a second time.

“Too big?” Nikki asked, before taking a sip of Sherrie’s cocktail to test its potency and gesturing to the glass for the bartender to add more.

“What? No, not-“ Harry looked back at his friend and grabbed a drink for himself… and one for you. “No, she’s great,” he said quickly, but that didn’t really cover it. He already knew you intimately, but even before that, he thought you were pretty. Too pretty to be the topic of this particular conversation. “She’s not a grenade, don’t be a dickhead.”

“She's cockblocking me, whatever she is, so make it go away.” Nikki shoulder checked him again on the way by and your drink dropped to the cement pool deck with a damp clink, sending pink liquid all over his shoes.

Harry swore and kicked the cup out of his way, thankful it was plastic so he didn’t make too much of a scene.

“Hey,” he looked up with wide eyes and you giggled. He clearly hadn’t expected to see you, especially standing so close to him and it took him more than a socially acceptable amount of time to formulate a response, until he settled on silence. Again.

[benhaardy]

king of my heart || b.h.

(i apologize i do not know where this gif is from i found it on weheartit but im not sure thats who made it but here is the post. if you are the owner please let me know so i can credit or take it off at your request. thanks!)

Summary: Ben takes you to the Bohemian Rhapsody premiere and you reminisce of his accomplishments and your years-long friendship.

Request: Can you do a fluffy first kiss imagine with Ben? Thanks!

A/N: so uhhh the request was literally the simplest thing EVER but my extra ass had to put some Extra Sass™ upon this lol. idk why i wanted to go big for such a simple prompt but its ben and its his birthday today so HE DESERVES IT!

gotta add in that S H E E R D R E S S S H I R T because i’m still not over it, thank u, next.

the outfit i had in mind: dress (the one in the middle) shoes necklace earrings, though obviously you can imagine your own outfit.

song that the title/some of the fic is based off: king of my heart by taylor swift

obviously, i am a huge fan of the longtime best friends to lovers cliche and idk if anyone else thinks this but i write my characters as super affectionate in the first place so i hope it isn’t weird to anyone to have like the really touchy-feely best friends or friendships in my stories ig? idk, just a thought cause i literally just noticed how affectionate my characters are ANYWAYS here's wonderwall

thank you for sending a request in! hope you enjoy it!

also happy birthday to our king i hope he has a beautiful day

Wordcount: 1.7k

Warnings: a few frick words (2). fem!reader. mention of nudity. fluffy!! not proofread, but beta’d

“Ready, Y/N?” Ben called from downstairs

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

You put the final touches of your outfit on. Perfume on your wrists, Tiffany necklace on, you went down the stairs carrying your nude Louboutins and adjusting your earrings. It wasn’t really your style to do any of this, really, but your best friend Ben had wanted to take you to the Bohemian Rhapsody premiere. Go big or go home, you figured. At his asking, you didn’t see or know what he was going to wear so you played it safe with a black dress.

You went down the stairs and got to the bottom floor. Ben was standing in the middle of the living room, back turned to you. He was looking down at the cat weaving in between his legs. As far as you could see, he was wearing an all black suit. “Ben?” you said. He whipped around to see you as you were putting on your shoes.

“Oh, wow, Y/N,” he beamed. Ben put his hands over his mouth, his eyes wide with surprise. “You look so good!” You opened your arms to embrace him, to which he stepped into, his arms around your waist.

After a few seconds, you both pulled away but his arms still stayed in their place and your hands lingered on his biceps. “I could say the same about you, Benny! Everything looks great!”  He let you go fully. You looked up and down at his outfit. Sheer black dress shirt, black blazer and trousers, everything was tailored perfectly to his body. You grinned. He cleaned up very well, but it wasn’t like he didn’t dress nice in the first place.

“Ready to go?” he asked. “Car’s waiting outside.”

“Ready.”

--

You watched from the side of the carpet as the main cast were getting photographed together. That was your best friend! Standing next to Roger fucking Taylor and Brian fucking May. Everything still felt surreal, though he had been in the public spotlight for the past few years, this felt different. Your senses just felt heightened. The flashing lights, the hues of purple and pink and gold all around, surrounded by people you either knew well or were complete strangers to you. Your eyesight was crisp, noticing everything you could, taking it all in. You did musical theatre, you hadn’t really dealt with something as big as this, even with Apocalypse.

And here your best friend was, in the middle of all of this. Your mind played back all the memories of you two in drama school with his all-nighters, monologue after monologue, script after script. You couldn’t be more proud of your closest friend, all of his hard work going to this. You could remember Ben’s shifty eyes backstage the very first show of Judas Kiss and the blush on his cheeks after the show when he remembered that you had watched him perform and there was that one scene of full frontal; he figured it was worth the embarrassment, it’s not as if you hadn’t seen worse.

Back to Eastenders and its countless shirtless and kissing scenes. You thought back to the countless nights that you spent up with him when he was weighing leaving the show or becoming Archangel. At your own urging, Ben left Eastenders, ready for the next chapter, ready for the next big thing. One of the best memories of your life was traveling to the United States with him for Comic-Con and driving up and down the west coast a week before he had to attend it. He took you to Disneyland and Universal Studios after everything with the convention was said and done.

Now, Bohemian Rhapsody! You laughed at the memories of Ben scrambling to find a good drum teacher close by and how he turned up in the middle of the night to your flat to tell you he got the part. You couldn’t ever forget his embrace in the dark of your living room, his face buried in your shoulder and his arms, tight and strong around your waist. Your happy tears wiped away by Ben’s hand as you drew apart. Though you both were excited, it was still the middle of the night, so you both just slept in your bed once more with the cats.

Ben would always invite you over to watch him play and give your input. You had to admit, he had gotten pretty good over all the lessons. Though you discouraged his lying about playing the drums and seeing the consequences in his clamber to learn as much as possible, it paid off in the best way possible. They started the process of making the movie. Though you couldn’t really be by his side throughout filming, you were basically there, his perpetual FaceTimes keeping you in the loop with everyone. You even “met” the guys and Lucy, who you hit off with very well. Ben made sure you were always by his side and he was always by yours.

So when you saw him here, at his biggest premiere surrounded by even more amazing actors and actresses, you couldn’t help but shed a tear. This role of Roger had basically brought him into the light.

You watched them take pictures until Ben beckoned you over, the group disbanding and walking over to their families and significant others to pose for their own photos. You came over and he put his arm around your waist, hugging you close. Your hand was on his back and you both posed for pictures, the flash basically blinding you, the sounds of the shutters all around. “Smile,” Ben whispered into your ear.

--

Everyone was at the rooftop restaurant that you were all going to eat at after the premiere. You were sitting in between Roger and Ben, having been introduced to all of the people around the table. Never in a million years, you thought, never in a million years did you think you’d be here, conversing with the real Roger Taylor or getting along with his daughters, or telling Lucy Boynton and Anita Dobson where you got your necklace and earrings.

“If you’ll excuse us, Y/N and I are going to go out to the balcony,”

You scooped another spoon of food in your mouth before saying, “Oh, okay we are? Okay.” You gave a polite smile to Roger, who you were talking to before Ben got your attention. Standing up, you followed Ben out of the tall, ornate door, out to the terrace where you could see all of London. The view was breathtaking.

“What is this all about?” you inquired as you came over to Ben standing with his hand on the glass, observing the scenery in front of him, the various coloured lights illuminating London.

“How do you feel about all this, Y/N? The whole shazam,” he questioned, wanting to know your true feelings about everything.

You shook your head, “What can I say?” You looked out along with him. “If you had told me in the first year of uni when we met that we would be here right now. Eating dinner with two freaking members of Queen and their families and being around some of the best actors and musicians in the world!” You said, your voice breathy. It was crazy what your best friend had been able to accomplish. “I would’ve slapped you and called you mental. This is all so... wow.”

“I couldn’t have made it here without you, Y/N. I’d be a complete and utter trainwreck. I wouldn’t even, like, survive without you, you know?”

“Ben,” you shook your head vigourously, “Don’t…don’t. This is your thing. This is your work. This is your doing. I was just there along for the ride and you were there with me,” you reasoned. “It’s just...just that simple.”

He shook his head but smiled. “None of this is that simple.” Ben turned to face you, still looking down. You moved to look at him yourself. “You mean everything to me, really. It’s not just the support. It’s the little things. It’s how you never fail to put your jumper sleeves over your hands and bury ‘em in your face. It’s how you look at me when you’re adjusting my suit and doing that little,” he paused and did little sweeping movements in the air, “that little sweepy thing on my lapels and you look back up at me and smile. The way you smile, the way you look at me, love, it just- it drives me crazy in the best way. You’re always there for me, yes, but that is not the only reason that I love you.” Ben took hold of your hand and held it close to his heart, his hand encapsulating yours entirely. “I want you, Y/N.”

You leaned forward and an abundance of holy shit holy shit did I just do that did I really just do that did he reeeallly just say those amazing things about me?’s rang through your head, echoing and echoing. You kissed him. His plump lips were upon yours finally. At first, Ben was stiff, taken by surprise at your sudden action but he softened quickly with the feeling of you on him. Your hand stayed on his chest while his moved down to your hips. As the kiss deepened, you laced your hands around his neck.

He pulled away. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted that, love,” he said, breathless, his lips swollen and pink.

“Me too, Ben.” You smiled and cupped his cheek in your hand, to which he kissed your palm and held your wrist lightly. He looked down at his shoes, blushing.

“We should—“ he started, his thumb pointing back to the inside. “We shoul—“

You exhaled. “Y-Yeah, yeah we should, we should.” Ben grabbed your hand and led you inside. He pulled your chair out for you and you sat in it. You brushed imaginary dirt off your dress, trying to act casual.

“Looks like you two had fun out there!” exclaimed Roger, a bellowing laugh coming from him.