#sorry. ever since I learned about that script it's been living in my head rent free

[heartbeetz]

"One of the writers got mad and wrote a scene to submit to the network people as a fuck you where Michael confesses and it's implied he fucked the car and then they kiss" okay based and also they did this for him and Lyan. If you believe. It's out there somewhere......

I am always an "idc about an in-universe justification, me and my f/o are in an openly gay relationship" guy. But I just realized how funny that would be for Michael/Lyan given the uh... "you're making this guy and his car gay, you have to tone it down or we're cutting the show" criticism the writers got from the tv network at the time. I generally imagine Lyan as being mostly an offscreen character anyway bc I don't think he'd wanna be involved in Michael's work much if at all, and I like making "they can't make it super obvious they're partners bc that puts Lyan at risk of being a target for anyone who has it out for Michael" a part of their thing. But it's interesting to consider how their onscreen interactions would have to work if the execs were mad just about the damn car lmaoooo

[ahtsumu]

the mystery of love ; kuroo tetsurou

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x f!reader

synopsis: kuroo tetsurou does not believe in soulmates. he believes in science, himself, and sometimes other people. but that doesn’t mean he can’t believe in love.

tag(s): sweet summer lovin’, friends to lovers, inspired by call my by your name, university student!kuroo tetsurou, lab intern!kuroo tetsurou, so much pining lol, fluff, angst, slow burn ; warning(s): profanity, mentions of alcohol ingestion (it’s legal bc they’re in italy!), suggestive themes ; wc: 4.8k

a/n: happy birthday tetsu!! i hope you guys like this. i really enjoyed writing it ♡

Kuroo Tetsurou does not believe in soulmates. He believes in science, himself, and sometimes other people. At least, that’s what he tells you. Sometimes you treat this information as a source of hope; other times, you’re not sure what to make of it.

This, you realise with his shoulder pressed against yours and both your bodies sprawled across his wrinkled bed sheets, is one of those other times. You turn your face to look at his.

���What?” he asks, one side of his mouth curling up in a smile.

For a moment, you wonder what would happen if you just said it. You could blame the alcohol. Get away with it scot-free. While you mull the option over in the dead silence of his room, your brain suddenly registers the music still playing from the living room. The low bass reverberating through the walls. How close your lips are. The sound of his breaths.

“Earth to Y/N?”

And like that, the little what-if that rose in your mind falls back with its tail between its legs. You bite your lip, look around his room like the walls have a script printed on them. Unfortunately, they do not.

“I was just thinking about my shirt.” It’s not great, but it’s the best you can do while still feeling the vodka and orange juice burn in your stomach. And smelling it on yourself.

Kuroo’s laugh booms through the room and you can’t help but giggle along with him. “I said I was sorry!” he says, hazel eyes twinkling with mirth. He pauses and glances at his closet, then nods his head in its direction. “Take a hoodie. Your pick.”

A smile–– one you try to downplay but fail miserably to–– creeps up your face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo replies. “You can also shower here if you want. It's the least I can do after spilling my drink all over you.”

When you emerge from Kuroo’s bathroom in one of his thinner hoodies, a lot soberer and drying your hair, he’s not on the bed anymore. Quietly, you step out of his room and look for him through the house. People are crashed everywhere–– on the sofa, over the kitchen counter, even propped up against walls. The floor is covered with plastic cups and mysterious pools of liquid. Wrinkling your nose, you try your best to step around the messes, looking in every corner in the house for the raven-haired boy.

You find him back in his room, actually. He’s back on his bed scrolling through his phone, the light illuminating his sharp features. When he hears you close the door behind you, he looks up, eyes immediately zeroing in on the black hoodie over your torso. The corner of his mouth twitches up.

“Where’d you go?” you both ask at the same time. He chuckles; you grin. Crawling back onto the bed, you tell him to go first.

“I went around to make sure nothing’s broken,” he explains. “Perks of being the only sober intern in the house, I guess.”

A beat passes.

This house is rented. You forgot about that. All his expenses are paid for by your mother’s lab. You forgot about that. He fits in your world so well, like maybe he’s always had a spot there, that you forgot that Kuroo Tetsurou is only here for the summer.

“Right.”

Kuroo raises a brow. “And you?”

“I went to look for you.”

He smiles and holds his hands out like a magician at the end of a trick. “Well, you found me.”

“Yeah,” you muse. “I guess I did.” Aren’t you lucky.

With that, something shifts in the air. A contemplative expression crosses Kuroo’s face. Maybe he’s realised how his words come out sometimes. Kuroo often says things that sound like they have more than one meaning and it used to throw you off, but now you just go with it. You’ve even picked up that habit yourself. “Do you ever wish that you’d met someone earlier? Maybe under different circumstances?” he asks.

Sighing, you fall back against his mattress and stare up at the ceiling. Telling the truth feels easier when you can’t see him. “Yeah. All the time.” A few seconds pass. “Do you think we would’ve been friends if we went to the same college?”

He also lies down. You’re both back in the same positions you were in an hour ago, but something’s changed. “No,” he admits. You’re not surprised–– that’s what you’d expected. “I’d be a junior and you’d be a freshman. We probably would’ve never met. And even if we had, I wouldn’t be caught dead hanging out with a… freshie.” He chuckles softly at the end. “And look at me now,” he adds softly, more to himself than you. You look over at his face. A contemplative smile rests on his lips.

That urge to just say it returns.

“Kuroo, I think––”

“You’re my favourite p–– oh, my bad. You first.”

And it goes away again.

“Um, uh,” you stutter, “how long do you have left here?”

Kuroo raises his brows. “On this planet? Hopefully a while, Y/N.” He sees your unamused expression and drops the front. “Three more weeks.”

Your eyes widen. Eight weeks have already passed. Blood rushes to your ears. Eight entire weeks have already passed, meaning that in three weeks, Kuroo Tetsurou will leave forever. And in four, you will, too. Except you’ll come back. You’ve done so every summer since you were born, probably will do until you die.

But this place will never be the same as it used to. Not after him.

“Y/N?” Once everything comes back into focus, you see the concern riddling his features. “Everything okay?”

“Hmm? Yeah.”

Say it.

“You didn’t have too much to drink, right?”

Say it.

“I just got buzzed. What about you?”

“The only drink I was planning on having all went to your shirt.”

Say it.

“Kuroo.”

“Yeah?”

Not yet.

“Let’s go on an adventure.”

At two AM, everything is different. The streets feel different, the villas look different, and you–– you can’t put your finger on it but Kuroo Tetsurou has changed, too. He sits behind the wheel of your father’s white 1953 Cadillac with the convertible roof down, unruly hair blown back by the breeze, a euphoric grin stretched over his face. In the passenger’s seat, you sit with an equally large beam and your hands raised into the dark sky.

“Where to, Miss?” he shouts over the wind.

“The stars,” you shout back with a laugh. Kuroo’s cat-like eyes briefly flit over to your side profile, lips curving to form a smaller, more tender smile. But you miss that–– your gaze falls on him just a second after his return to the road.

“I heard you say Jack’s,” he says, smirking.

The 24/7 diner sticks out like a sore thumb in the row of sun-baked stucco and stone buildings with its bold neon lights and shiny exterior. During the day, it seems gaudy, way too American for a small town in northern Italy. But at night, this place feels like home. You’ve been stumbling into Jack’s completely shit-faced since you were sixteen. Of course, all those other times had been with the kids of your mother’s coworkers. All those other times, you could hardly remember what you even ordered when you woke up hours later.

But this time, you walk in with Kuroo Tetsurou at half-past-two in the morning, the chemicals running through your bloodstream epinephrine and dopamine, not ethanol; if you’re drunk then it’s on a feeling and your only poison is the boy next to you. You study his face and consider that thought. No, he’s not poison. He’s the antidote.

“Y/N!” the server exclaims, rushing over with two menus. “And Kuroo! My two favourite customers, but together this time!” Giovanni ushers you two to a booth by the window and takes your orders, purely for show, of course. He knows your orders by heart: the Lorenzo for Kuroo and the Quentin for you.

“With fries on both, please,” Kuroo adds, throwing you a wink. “Aren’t I a gentleman?”

“You only did that to have more for yourself,” you reply drily. Having him over at your house for dinner every night made picking up his idiosyncrasies so unbelievably easy. You know them like they’re your own. You know him like he’s your own.

Kuroo clutches his chest and pretends to be offended, then changes the conversation to what happened at the lab today, or rather, yesterday. That your mother and the other researchers are so close to finding a cure for the strain of virus that’s recently hit crickets in southern Italy.

“You should drop by again sometime,” he says. “Last time you came around was, what, two weeks ago?”

Your face breaks in a grin. “Are you saying you’ve missed me? Chemistry getting boring?” you tease, drawing a loud laugh from him.

“Sodium hydrogen, you little shit.” Your mother’s used this one on you before, but hearing it from him makes you giggle anyway.

Giovanni comes back with two plates, each loaded with fries. You both say your thanks and he retreats to the kitchen again, but not before wiggling his eyebrows at your reddening faces. Wordlessly, you grab your fork and knife and transfer at least half of your fries onto Kuroo’s plate. Kuroo stares at you with the slightest smile. That look sends your stomach into flips.

“What?” you question nonchalantly, cutting into your burger.

“Nothing,” he says, mirroring your actions. “Nothing at all.”

It’s hard to imagine that after spending almost every day together for eight weeks straight that there’s still more to learn about each other, but there is. You tell him more about your real home. Your best friend who called you at 3 AM last night because of timezones. Stories from every summer before this one, when you were a different person in the same place you are now.

He tells you more about Kenma, his best friend from high school. How they played on one of the best volleyball teams in Japan. Stories from training camp, literature class, the metro ride home after school–– you listen to every single one in rapt attention. There’s not enough time in the world for all the things you want to know about Kuroo Tetsurou, so you take what you can get. If only you’d known him before you’d known him.

“If we’d met earlier here, do you think we would’ve been friends?” you ask after paging Giovanni for the check.

“No,” he replies, picking up a few remaining fries with his fork instead of his fingers. The corners of your mouth turn up. That’s your thing. He considers the scenario seriously. “I think we met right when we should have.”

“What about the future?” you press, leaning into the conversation. “Let’s say we meet in two years here, instead of now. Would we be friends?”

Kuroo sets his fork down, eyes you steadily. “What’s this about?”

You blink. “What?”

“What’s with all these hypotheticals today?” Perhaps worried that he came off too harshly, Kuroo adds, “I thought I was the scientist.”

“I just… it feels like I’ve known you since forever.” This feels like it was meant to be, you don’t say. And I want to know you forever.

A sigh–– fond, but still a sigh–– blows through his lips. “Don’t tell me you believe in soulmates,” he says with a wicked grin.

“Are you calling me your soulmate?” The question, shamelessly genuine, painfully hopeful, leaves your mouth without you intending it to and you regret it instantly. Because Kuroo Tetsurou has told you many times that he does not believe in soulmates.

Is it so bad to dream, though?

You watch him carefully but he doesn’t say anything, just continues smiling wryly like you’d intended to tease him. Like he knows that you know better. But you don’t.

“Are you?” he suddenly replies. Sharp eyes hold yours, daring you to respond. Do you dare?

At that moment, Giovanni returns with the check. “Who’s paying?” he asks, unaware of the tense exchange that just occurred across the table. Inaudibly, you sigh in relief. Kuroo is about to say that it’s on him when he catches himself in the middle of his sentence, looks your way, then back to Giovanni. He says you’ll go Dutch. You nod in approval.

“So,” Kuroo drawls once you’ve both paid for your meals. “Where do we go from here?”

Good question.

Kuroo Tetsurou has never been to an outdoor club period. And though he’s been clubbing, he has never once gone dancing in his lifetime. You tell him that’s about to change as he parks the car in a lot near the venue. Before him, all your summer nights were spent here.

“You’ve been here for two months and you haven’t been to an outdoor club yet?” you ask while unbuckling your seatbelt. That can’t be possible. If you’d been in his shoes… an attractive college student in a foreign country for the summer, you would have gone wild.

“Nope. I’ve been a little busy, y’know, spending my days in a lab, handling chemicals, studying viruses, washing lab equipment, writing up reports for your mother and her colleagues, working on my own research on the side… the usual.” He flashes you a bright, sarcastic smile.

“Poor baby,” you coo, ruffling his hair. Kuroo laughs while you continue messing with the dark locks. “Was your first full day here the only tourist-day you’ve had so far?” His weekends, you already know, are spent either lounging around cafés, pools, or the great outdoors with you or the interns. But you’d assumed he’d had time to do some exploring on his own.

Kuroo nods. “And my guide wasn’t even that great,” he mutters, shooting you a dark look. “She sped through every attraction and hardly spoke a word outside of the tour to me. I think she hated me.”

You giggle and open the door, letting the music from the outdoor speakers infiltrate the bubble inside your car. “Maybe she was just nervous!” you say as you get out. That’s a lie.

“About what?” Kuroo follows suit, the gravel crunching beneath his feet. “I was so friendly to you and you just brushed me off each time.” He pouts.

But you don’t reply. Instead, you just grab his hands and pull him towards the venue. As you step into the boundaries marked by fairy lights and rustic wooden fences, Kuroo stops in his tracks and tugs on your intertwined hands. You glance down before up, trying to memorise how his hand looks around yours in the few seconds you can steal.

“Y/N,” Kuroo says. The strobe lights paint his skin pink, blue, purple like it’s a canvas. “Tell me why you were nervous.” Grammatically, it’s a command. And yet it sounds like he’s begging.

“What’s it mean to you?” you ask, feeling your heartbeat speed up in your chest. So what if you just… said it? What would happen?

“Everything?” he replies with a cheeky smile. The odds that he seriously means that are slim. But… they’re there. You shake that possibility out of your mind. That’s just the hope talking.

“Depends how convincingly you say it.” You tug on his arm. “C’mon. Let’s dance.” But he doesn’t budge–– he just continues to stand by the entrance of the club with an expectant look on his face. People are starting to stare.

“Fine,” you say with an eye roll. “I’ll tell you." Kuroo smirks, something self-congratulatory ready to leave his mouth, but then you let go of his hand and dance backwards into the throng of moving bodies. “But first, you’re gonna have to dance with me!” 

You allow yourself to be swallowed by the lively music, the people, the moment. Seconds later you’re deep enough into the crowd that you lose sight of Kuroo. Something in you says that he’ll show up soon, though. For now, you let yourself breathe. Forget about the heaviness of what-if’s, the itch to confess, the dread of the aftermath. Feelings are a lot like gravity. Sometimes they keep you grounded, other times, they weigh you down. This is one of those other times.

You dance up to a friendly-looking group of teens your age. Three guys and two girls. You shout your name and follow up with how it’s nice to meet them, hoping one of them finds you nice enough to keep around. Dancing alone in a club is one of the worst things that can ever happen to someone. Luckily, one of the girls–– the one wearing a purple wig–– pulls you in for a hug, drunkenly shouting back, “Bianca!” Bianca pushes you into their circle next to one of the guys and, just like that, you two start moving to the beat, feeling it in your feet, shoulders, hips. At one point, you turn around and take a good look at his face. The guy’s cute enough, but he’s not Kuroo. Still, you say nothing as he moves closer to you and grabs your hand, lifting it up and motioning for you to twirl.

Suddenly, a pair of hands grip firmly onto your waist and pull you out of the circle. “Hey!” You look down, suddenly realising they’re Kuroo’s. A shiver runs down your spine. He spins you around to face him. His lips are set in a firm line, eyes completely devoid of humour, nostrils slightly flared.

“Hi,” you say quietly, testing the waters.

“Hi,” he replies curtly. His hands are still on your waist. Selfishly, you choose not to point that out. Instead, you try to defuse the situation with a light question. Playful tone.

“Where were you this whole time?”

“Looking for you.”

“Well… you found me.” You flash him a sheepish grin. A peace offering of some sort.

“I did.” He doesn’t take it.

“Lucky you.”

Irritation finally seeps through his features. “You just left me on the dance floor!” he snaps. “And then when I find you after searching the entire venue, you’re dancing up on some random guy!”

“It was in good fun!” you retort, wriggling out of his grip. “And I wasn’t dancing up on him.” You want to ask if he’s jealous so badly, but you take a good look at his face and decide against that.

“Fun?” he asks incredulously. “Worrying about losing you, worrying about myself getting lost, then having to worry about that guy after finding you isn’t very fucking fun to me, Y/N!” The words fly out of his mouth like daggers without pause. Once finished, he looks at you with a disappointed gaze, shaking his head lightly, chest rising and falling with each heavy breath.

“I’m sorry,” you say, looking down at your shoes. It doesn’t matter if you disagree with him–– a sort of shame drills itself so deeply into your conscience that all you can think about is making things right again. “I didn’t think my actions through.”

A second passes. You wonder what he’s thinking.

“Hey, look at me.” Kuroo lifts your chin up with an index finger. Your wide eyes meet his narrow ones. Just as a pink beam glides over his face, his gaze softens, falls down to your lips. And then you feel his thumb on your chin, barely grazing the skin of your bottom lip. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down. The revelry in the background fades to dull beats against your eardrums. Suddenly, you register that he smells of, as usual, blackcurrant and amber.

But now you also smell of blackcurrant and amber.

You’re wearing his clothes. You smell of him.

Kuroo’s eyes crawl back up to yours, wide like he’s just been caught in the middle of a crime. You blink expectantly, ignoring the furious way your heart pounds in your chest. Shallow breaths puff through your slightly parted mouth.

“I am.” It comes out barely a whisper. C’mon. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me––

You gently touch the hand he has on your chin. Kuroo jolts back like he’s been burned. “I’ll, uhm, I’ll be in the car,” he stutters, looking away from your face. He pushes through the sea of people, leaving you all alone on the dance floor, body doused in blue light, fingers touching the area his thumb had been as if preserving its print.

Kuroo hardly notices you slip into the passenger’s seat minutes later. He’s got his forearms hanging over the steering wheel and gaze fixed ahead into the darkness, mind probably running off to a place he wishes his body was, too.

As soon as you’ve buckled yourself in, Kuroo starts the car.

The entire drive home is silent.

Once Kuroo pulls into your courtyard and parks, he turns off the engine, unbuckles his seatbelt, and steps out of the car. Wordlessly, you follow his actions and meet him by the stairs to your door.

“Hi,” you say quietly. He doesn’t look at you.

“Hey.”

The two of you stand outside your front door in silence as you both consider what to say next. This can’t be the way it ends.

“I shouldn’t have… done that,” Kuroo says first.

“Done what?” You choose to play dumb. Call it selfish, but you want to hear him say it. Maybe then it’ll feel as real as it had been. Kuroo sighs and leans his shoulder against the stone wall, crossing his arms over his chest. There’s no way he can dance around what happened. Perhaps the past two months can be summed up as the development of a strong friendship with skilled doublespeak and metaphors and just enough artistic licence, but this can’t. And Kuroo knows that. He can’t feed you an alternative truth like he’s done so many times before. What’s more, he can’t lie to himself anymore. So maybe it’s better just to not speak at all.

Your eyes burn holes into the side of his face. Fine. You’ll concede first. “I was never nervous.”

Kuroo blinks, turns his head around to look at you. “What?”

“I was never nervous. I was playing it cool because I didn’t want to risk befriending you and getting attached.” I’m still playing it cool, you don’t say. And I’m already attached. “Guess I just came off as a bitch instead.” You laugh. “But can you blame me? You were this cute, older guy. Smart, too, since you were interning with my mom. You were my dream guy.”

An amused breath blows out of his nose. “Were?” he questions, grinning, only remembering the fragility of your platonic relationship a second later. “Um––”

“Are.” It slips out of your mouth without you realising. Fuck. Kuroo stills. It’s too late to take back your words now, so you might as well just keep going. “You still are my dream guy.”

Seconds pass and neither of you says anything. Sweat gathers in the palms of your hands. You start to feel your heartbeat through your neck. The buzz of the cicadas grows louder. Oppressive. Behind Kuroo, the sky is starting to turn pale blue and pink in the horizon. That means it’s almost sunrise. The night is almost over, and, hopefully, so is this awful conversation.

“And… you don’t feel the same.” Funnily, you feel like you’re lying. You’re telling Kuroo how he feels and you think you’re lying. Does that make sense? None of this night even feels real. God, you hope this has all just been a dream. Mustering a soft smile, you say, “That’s okay. Thank you for the party. And the adventure.” It was fun while it lasted. You feel the house key in your pocket and turn to unlock the door. “I hope this doesn’t change anything between us, Kuroo. Can we still be friends?” The words leave your mouth feeling like barbed wire. You know damn well you can’t still be friends.

And suddenly, you feel his calloused hands around your cheeks. Suddenly, his hot breath fans over your face.

“Can I kiss you?” he murmurs.

Your eyes close instantly. “Yes, please.”

And suddenly, his soft lips are on yours.

Kuroo breaks the kiss seconds later. “Fuck,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours, touching the tips of your noses together. “Y/N, I don’t want to be friends. Fuck.” A dry chuckle leaves his mouth. He pauses to collect his thoughts but decides that that can wait. Instead, he presses another kiss to your lips so fervently that he backs you up against the wall with no space between your bodies. You wonder if he can feel your heartbeat like this, chest to chest. Kuroo’s hands travel down your waist and rest on your hips. His tongue runs across your tongue, your teeth, the insides of your mouth. You gently suck on it, drawing a satisfied moan from him. When the kiss ends, you see that his lips are red and cheeks are swollen. A warm feeling spreads through your chest. “I thought I could be happy just being friends with you but I can’t. I want you so bad it hurts. Not to mention, when I saw you in my hoodie?” His fingers pinch the material. “I thought God was testing me or some shit.”

“Sure didn’t feel like you wanted me that way,” you retort, still breathless.

“In my defence,” Kuroo says, thumbs tracing your cheekbones, “I was very scared.”

“Of what?”

It looks like he’s about to tell you, but he changes his mind and doesn’t answer. He grabs your hand and pulls you back to the car with a cheeky grin. “I’ll tell you only if you tell me where we can watch the sunrise.”

Kuroo holds your hand, stroking your thumb the entire drive there.

After a short hike, you plop down on the grassy hillside, supporting your body with outstretched arms in the back. Kuroo sits down beside you with one of his hands covering yours, fingers intertwined like a honeysuckle vine around a hazel tree. You tell him that you grew up running along this hill with your parents. It used to be your playground. Maybe, you think, it’s time to make new memories here.

“Beautiful,” Kuroo breathes, a wonderstruck look in his eyes. The sun’s just risen halfway above the pink and blue horizon, the saturated orange casting the entire city below gold. It’s not just the city, though. He’s also gold. He’s just as beautiful. You watch him with a soft smile on your lips, noting how his wide eyes and slack jaw return to normal as he stares off into the distance. After resting your head on his shoulder, you fix your eyes on the sunrise ahead. You wonder what he’s thinking so quietly about.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you finally ask once the sun has finished revealing itself.

Kuroo blinks, returning to reality, but continues to stare straight ahead. “I was just thinking about… soulmates.”

You lift your head off his shoulder. “Don’t tell me you believe in soulmates now,” you tease.

“Hmm.” He turns to look at you, the sun turning his hazel eyes the colour of honey. That same wry smirk from Jack’s returns to his face.

“You wanna know why I was so scared?”

“Pray tell.”

“Because I’ve never felt this way towards anyone.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“No,” Kuroo laughs, laying his head down in your lap, looking up into your eyes. “I’m serious. I used to purposely stay away from girls in high school. Same in college. Same all the way until you somehow wormed your way into my life. That’s why we wouldn’t have been friends.” You cock your head to the side.

“Why?” you ask, running your fingers through his hair.

Kuroo’s eyelids flutter shut. He inhales deeply before talking. “My parents are divorced. The years before the divorce were… very ugly.” 

(He spares you the details of the midnight arguments, the smashed plates, the holes in the walls. He spares you the details of how he only ever knew how to fall asleep with his head sandwiched between two pillows, how he hasn’t seen his sister in a decade, how he’ll curse and snap but never yell because he always feels like a child again around the noise. That’s for another time, if you’ll have any.) 

“I still remember all the fighting and yelling. For the longest time, that’s all I knew about marriage and relationships.”

“Did you think all relationships were like that? Fighting and yelling?” you ask.

“For a while, yeah. I’m still a little scared of that, to be honest. Ending up in a relationship where all you do is fight.” Kuroo sighs. “But that’s not the only thing. I thought I wouldn’t know how to love someone, growing up like that.” At that, your fingers pause in his hair.

“Wait,” you say, furrowing your brows. A wave of immense sadness (not for yourself, for him) washes over you. “You think you wouldn’t know how to love someone else?”

“Thought.” Kuroo cracks open his eyes and smiles up at you. “I’m in the process of changing my mind.”

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Don’t Go Breaking My Heart | Charlie Gillespie

Requested by anonymous: Hi! Could you possibly do a Charlie x reader fic where they are filming season 2 & there is a new character (fashion expert/can see ghost/a little bit of enemies with Luke at first) but off screen they are very close (always hanging out/on ig posts & stories/dance partners/they sing karaoke/adventure) & the whole cast likes to tease them about it but they deny any feelings however they are about to film a very important scene that involves their characters & might change everything between them.

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x reader

Warnings: fluff

Words: 2,789

Season 2. Finally Season 2. Everyone had been hoping, wishing, praying for a season 2 of Julie and The Phantoms, and after months of waiting, Netflix finally picked it up for a second season. After those months, the actors had just to wait a little while longer while the crew wrote up the first drafts of scripts and made it perfectly save for the actors to do their work. Once all of that’s ready and they’re good to go, the cast finally reunite again in Vancouver. They even meet some new cast members. Like you. You had auditioned for the role of Daniela Ramos, Julie’s cousin and Victoria’s daughter, and got it pretty much straight away. Daniela is a fashion student at a High School in Melrose Hill and Julie asks her for some help with costumes for her next gig with her band. To Julie’s surprise, Daniela can actually see the boys, even when they’re not playing, which causes for a lot of trouble in the band and family, especially between Julie and Luke. This is your first big role on the small screen and you’re the most excited you’ve ever been. You met the other cast members at the summer bootcamp before the filming process would start, and though almost everything had to be done with a face mask covering half of everyone’s face, it still was a lot of fun getting to meet everyone and spend the most fun summer ever. Every day, you grew closer and closer to everyone on set, and soon became best friends with Madi, Jadah, Savannah and Tori, doing plenty of sleepovers. Besides the girls, you also grew closer to Charlie, Owen and Jeremy, but mostly Charlie. For some reason, the two of you just clicked instantly. You have the same humor, the same taste of adventure, the same passions and dreams. You, Charlie and Owen even rented a place together to live in for the time being in Vancouver. You got even closer during filming, especially since you and Charlie have a lot of scenes together. “Oh my God, Luke, you’re so annoying!” you yell at him when the two of you are in the garage, taping a scene. It had taken you about ten takes and you still couldn’t help but giggle at the shocked face he pulled every time. “If I’m so annoying, Dani, why do you keep coming back?!” The angry face he pulls resembles that of an angry kitten, which just makes you crack up again. “God dammit, Y/N!” Charlie laughs now too as Kenny yells “Cut!” “Sorry! Sorry, guys! I promise I’m a real actor!” You hold your hands up in defense, then cough to get ready for another take. This time around, you could finally manage to get through it without laughing. “Yes!” Charlie exclaims when Kenny yells “Cut!” again. He holds his hand up for a high five, which you giddily give him. “Do you need any more takes, Kenny?” he asks the man himself. “Nope, you’re good! You can go on your break now!” he pats Charlie’s shoulder. “Nice job, guys!” “Thanks, Kenny,” you say, the smile growing on your face. “I need food, Gillespie,” you tell your best friend, linking your arm with his. “Let’s go get food!” The two of you head down to catering and sit down at a table with a plate full of food. “What are we doing tonight?” he then asks before taking a bite of food. You swallow your bite of food and take a sip from your drink. “Don’t you have a night shoot tonight?” you ask, remembering him saying something about a late call. “No, that’s tomorrow, after our dance rehearsal,” he replies after swallowing the food. “Oh! Okay!” You start thinking of things to do, “We could go to karaoke? Bring the others maybe?” He raises his eyebrows, looking at you questionably. “I’ve always loved karaoke,” you shrug with a giggle. “Yeah, okay!” Charlie nods his head agreeingly. “Karaoke it is!” The two of you smile up at each other, teeth showing, both of you glowing. “What are you love birds discussing?” Owen asks when he joins them, his voice muffled from the mask covering his face. He pulls it down to under his chin as he and Jeremy join the two at the table. “We’re thinking about going to karaoke tonight with the whole team!” you tell them, completely ignoring the ‘love birds’. “Ooh, fun!” Owen exclaims with a smile that nearly reaches his ears. “Yeah, we’ll leave after shooting the last scene tonight,” Charlie suggests, looking at you for confirmation. You nod your head agreeingly. That night, you and the rest of the cast head to the nearest karaoke place you know. You’ve linked arms with Savannah and Tori, giggling through the night, trying to keep your balance on your heeled boots. Meanwhile, without you realizing, Charlie has been keeping his eyes on you the whole way there. He finds it adorable how your giggle floats through the night air and your hips bump against the other girls’. He couldn’t lie, you had easily become the light in his life. “So, what song shall we begin with?” you ask the gang as you settle into the booth. “Pick the first one on the list,” Jeremy replies when no one else does. You nod your head curtly and press play on the first song, which is Living on a Prayer by Bon Jovi. You can already tell after that first song; tonight is going to be a fun night. You sing a couple of songs with the girls, there are many group numbers, and you even sing one with your roommates. After singing with Owen and Charlie, the latter points at you. “We’re going to sing together now!” he exclaims excitedly before turning around and picking a song for you to sing. When he’s picked one, he grabs your hand to pull you closer towards him. You blink a couple of times, unable to process what’s happening right now. The opening notes to Don’t Go Breaking My Heart by Elton John and Kiki Dee chime through the booth. You glance over at Savannah and Tori, who offer you an encouraging smile. Then you look at Jadah and Madison, but they’re too busy giggling and whispering, and it makes you wonder if that’s about you and Charlie. Your eyes dart over to the boys – Jeremy, Owen and Sacha – who just offer you suggestive smiles and eyebrow-wiggles. Charlie’s voice captures your attention again, and you turn to him. “I couldn’t if I tried,” you sing back to him. The encouraging smile on Charlie’s face calms you down a little up to the point where it almost seems like the two of you are the only people in the room. You have no clue what is happening or why it’s happening. All you know is that you’ve wanted it to happen sooner. Though you wouldn’t ever admit that to anyone. It’s the way he looks at you and the way he makes you feel like you’re the only person on this planet that matters. It’s been the way he’d looked at you since that first day of meeting him. “I won't go breaking your heart,” you sing the very last line to him ever so softly, not even looking at the screen anymore, but instead, looking into his eyes. “Don't go breaking my heart,” he sings back. The song ends and you both lower your microphones, staring into each other’s eyes. If it wasn’t for the rest of the cast breaking out into cheers and applause, you would’ve kissed him then and there. But it startles you, and you step away from him upon realizing how close you are and how that must look to the others. “So, when’s the wedding?” Madison asks teasingly, which makes the others laugh, and you blush. After that night at karaoke, the two of you had silently agreed to forget anything ever happened. Savannah said you were in denial, but you believed you weren’t. You told her it was just the atmosphere in the air that night, the both of you had consumed a little bit of alcohol and it might’ve just been that. No one stopped teasing you though. On every possible occasion, they’d ask you if you’d kissed him yet, or when your next date it, or started singing Don’t Go Breaking My Heart randomly. You just shook it off every time, finding it amusing how consumed the cast was with this ‘relationship’ you had with Charlie. There was nothing more going on than just a really, really tight friendship. Until the dance scene happened. Your character, Dani, was supposed to go to a school dance with her crush, but she was nervous because she had never slow danced with anyone before. When she tells Luke, he insisted on teaching her, saying he’d gone to plenty of school dances back in ’94 and ’95 before he died. You and Charlie know this choreography by heart, you’ve been doing it for weeks on end at bootcamp and during rehearsals. It had always just been fun and games, the two of you being immaculate dancers and bouncing off of each other so well because of your tight friendship. “I could teach you?” Charlie says as Luke, stepping closer to you. You raise your eyebrows at him. “I’ve gone to numerous dances in my days, Dani…” One corner of his mouth curls up into a teasing smirk. “Unless you want to embarrass yourself in front of… Jake.” He emphasizes the name of your fictional crush, to which you react with wide eyes and a blush spreading on your cheeks. “Come on, Dani!” He reaches out for your hand, which you place hesitantly in his. Dani being able to see ghosts, is also able to make them corporeal. The lights on set dim a little, except for one spot on the pair in the middle of the studio, and then the music starts playing through the speakers. Charlie starts singing the song they’d learned at bootcamp, one the cast wrote together during the quarantine. The atmosphere in the studio has suddenly become really intense. You can feel the butterflies erupting in your stomach as the man in front of you sings to you, mere inches away from each other as he leads you in this beautiful dance Paul Becker and Tori Caro choreographed for you. Just like at the karaoke booth, it feels like the two of you are the only people on set. Just you and him. You and Charlie. You and your best friend. There’s no denying you have feeling for him anymore. You knew you did, you just told yourself it wasn’t a good idea and suppressed those feelings, pushing them down. It worked for a while. Until now. “Cut!” Kenny yells after your scene. You step away from Charlie, glancing down at the floor as you try your hardest to hide your flustered face. “That was perfect, guys! It really looks like the two of you were in love!” he claps his hands in excitement, then tells them to do it again. After four takes of the dance, Kenny tells you to go and take a break. Without saying another word to Charlie, you rush off set and towards your trailer where you sit down on a chair, trying to calm your breathing. Charlie might not like you the way you like him. Admitting to these feelings might just ruin everything the two of you have. With this in mind, you grab your phone and text Savannah, asking her to come over to your trailer. Maybe she could help you. “Are you okay?” she asks when she enters and finds you staring at the ceiling. “No…” you reply and take a deep breath, “I think I’m in love with my best friend?” “Oh, sweetie…” Savannah sighs, and pulls you up to take you in a hug, “I know…” You pull her away again to face her properly. “What do you mean ‘you know’?” “Everybody knows,” she starts, “The two of you have been inseparable since the day you met, and everyone can see the way you look at each other. Plus, your duet the other night was a little intense for it to be a platonic one.” She chuckles, and you can’t help but chuckle too. She then grabs her phone from her back pocket, opening Instagram. “You know fans have caught on too, right?” She shows you the comments on some of Charlie’s pictures on his account. One picture is of the two of you, napping in Julie’s bed on set, cuddled up. He even posted pictures from your hikes on your days off. All of them are bombarded with comments from fans saying, ‘I ship it!’ or ‘Y/S/N’. Sav then opens her dm’s which are flooded with fans asking if you and Charlie are dating yet, and how the two of them are so in love with each other. “Charlie isn’t in love with me?” you deny, not believing one bit about it. “He is, though…” This does not come from Savannah’s mouth. Your eyes widen when you recognize the voice, and peek behind Savannah to find your best friend standing at your open trailer door. “Sav, can you give us a minute?” he asks the younger girl. “More than a minute,” she chirps, offering you a wink before leaving the trailer. Charlie steps in completely and moves until he’s in front of you. He takes your hands in his, and chuckles at your overwhelmed and confused expression. “Are you okay?” he asks, that beautiful smile of his persistent on his face. “Y—yeah? No? I’m not sure?” you sigh, trying to get your thoughts in order. “Charlie, wha—?” “Can I talk? I’ve been going over this conversation in my mind a billion times, and if I don’t say it now, I think I’m going to forget what I’m supposed to say…” You nod your head in response. “Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since the very first time I saw you walking in at bootcamp. You looked adorable with your little nervous smile and your polite hellos to everybody. I knew from that moment on that I wanted to get to know you better, and that I wanted to become more than just friends…I didn’t think you’d feel the same way, so I told myself that it was okay if we’d just stay friends. Especially since your character kind of hates mine and you bring Dani to life so convincingly, that I was almost sure you hated me too,” you chuckle at that, “But I can’t hide it anymore, Y/N. I am so embarrassingly in love with you that I could’ve kissed you after that scene we just did and that I could kiss you right now even though I’m—” before he can finish his sentence, you lean up and crash your lips onto his, your hands flying into his hair. He’s a little startled at first, but quickly melts into the kiss and presses you closer to him. “I am so embarrassingly in love with you too, Charlie,” you whisper when you pull away, pressing your forehead against his. “They’re going to be so relieved,” you tell him with a chuckle. He frowns his eyebrows at you. “Who?” he asks. You take his hand in yours and lead him towards the door of your trailer, pushing it open and making it bump against whoever was closest to the door. All of your cast mates scramble, trying to act natural while Owen rubs his forehead since he was the one that got a door in his face. “Ah, them!” Charlie chuckles. “Thanks for the door in my face, guys,” Owen says disgruntled. “That’s on you, buddy,” you tell him with a grin. “Don’t you guys have a scene to shoot or something?” Their eyes widen at the realization and, after yelling at the two how happy they are for them, rush to set in a hurry. “So, where were we?” Charlie turns back to you when everyone’s gone. “Don’t you have a scene with them?” “Shit!” he grumbles and jumps off the small steps in front of the trailer. He starts running towards set but turns around almost immediately to you and kisses your lips quickly, but sweetly, and then runs off. You watch him with an amused smile on your face. There was nothing to be afraid about after all and nothing changed between you two. You were still the best of friends, just friends that kiss and are in love with each other. But both of you happy.

Taglist: @hannahhistorian92​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @thequirkybookaholic​ @parkeret​​ @lukeys-giggle​ @gingerxarmy​ @lovesanimals​

[chaotictommy]

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD IT HAS FINALLY HAPPENED... I WAS NOMINATED BY @transjohnnylawrence .......... Omg 😱 😭🤧😂

okay, so I’ve prepared a speech... or — well...

I’d like to thank my mom, my — what am I saying?

Thank you @transjohnnylawrence Ferris you rock man 💖🌻💖

Okay, let’s do this....

It’s the year 2021 and you’re obsessed with The Karate Kid. How are you feeling?:

Hell yeah! I love TKK, I’m feeling great about it, and I mean, I’ve met a lot of great people in the fandom and great friends <3 Cobra Kai is awesome too!

Did you grow up with TKK or are you new to the series?:

Lol, I guess I grew up with it? I saw TKK when I was six or seven years old and it’s a good memory because my dad was there from one of his excruciatingly long deployments and he had found it on television and he scooped me up and set me in his lap and we watched it together. Of course he fell asleep halfway through and the only reason he woke up was because I tried to do the flying kick that Bobby does to take out Danny’s knee, and I fell over and ended up busting my knee a little on the side of the coffee table, my dad woke up and ended up telling me off for hurting myself, but we sat down and watched the last minute, after he’d put a bandaid on my knee. My dad ended up getting it at the library a while later on VHS so I could see the beginning and ending because I had missed both, it’s kind of one of the best memories I have of my dad. After that, a lot of stuff happened in my life and I kinda forgot about it till I saw a trailer for Cobra Kai, and after that I rented the film from my local library, and watched it about five times... then on a different site I met @transjohnnylawrence and he asked me to a TKK watch party, which honestly was the best. ✨ I’ve met a lot of great people in this fandom and I am so happy that I found it again, because I’ve made some friends... <3 but I said that already :) ✨

We gotta do the basics. Favourite character:

TOMMY!!! lol... I don’t actually know... I love them all, but Bobby, Jimmy, Dutch, or Tommy for TKK, definitely Jessica is a top fave and I don’t mind Ali... my favorite character in Cobra Kai has to be either Robby or Amanda... or Moon or Demetri... but I really relate to Robby

Wax On, Wax Off or Sweep the Leg?:

I prefer neither. I guess I tend to go for the whole Mr. Miyagi speech about balance. That or ‘Get him a body bag, yeahhh,’ — Actually, I once changed the line just a little to use. I once flunked down into a chair at a cafeteria table, set my head down on the table, and stated ‘get me a body bag,’ and my friend looked at me and said ‘exams are going that bad huh?’ and I just nodded and proceeded to fall asleep on the table because I hadn’t had any sleep... also, I said ‘Get him a body bag’ once when my sister jokingly told me to sike our dad out when we were playing pool in teams... and I took it literally and my dad just looked very surprised and started laughing.... but yeah... what was the question? if i had to choose, it would be Sweep the Leg ... Or Wax on, Wax off, depending on my mood Which of Daniel’s dumb little outfits is your favourite?:

The silly little flannel with the camo pants... since I have worn something very similar and been teased for it... 😅😂 there’s so many that I liked though... I really dislike that he wears only suits now and they’re the stuffy kind...

Favourite ship:

Johnny/Jimmy, Dimmy (Dutch/Jimmy), I blame two fanfic writers for this one, but — Johnny/Bobby/Dutch... Also, Dutch/Tommy, Dutch/Jimmy/Tommy, Kumiko/Jessica/Ali, Bonny, Lucille/Miyagi and Johnny/Bobby/Tommy/Jimmy/Dutch, And Tommy/Ali... for CK, I’m big into Sam/Demetri, Robby/Moon, and Hawk and Demetri but as Binary Brothers ............. there’s too many

Underrated character:

JeSsIcA — yeah, definitely Jessica! And Tommy! And Jimmy! Dutch! And totally Bobby... but Jessica is definitely number One ☝️ in my underrated characters list...

Underrated ship (don’t say therapy, lol):

i like Jimmy/Dutch or Tommy/Ali but Kumiko/Jessica/Ali are top on my list... that and Bobby/Freddy (They’d look pretty cute together, I dunno 🤷🏼‍♀️) that and Thera— Tommy/Johnny ... for CK it’s definitely Sam/Aisha or Amanda/Johnny lol... joking with that one... Robby/Moon

Character from the films you most want to return, who’s not Terry Silver:

screw Terry Silver! NO SERIOUSLY SCREW HIM AND KREESE... I want to see Jessica and Dutch!!! and more of the Og Cobras 🐍 😩♥️ Maybe even Julie... but definitely Jessica and Dutch (Lol I feel strongly about this)

Scene that lives in your head rent-free:

the goodbye scene with Tommy in Take a Right... it just sticks with me even though it’s a sad scene... but just hearing them talk by the campfire and seeing Tommy giving Johnny advice and helping him... and also, just... yeah, that just 🥺... got stuck in my head... that or the scene with Robby where he finds his childhood artwork at his dad’s apartment, I get emotionally drawn in thinking about my own childhood, for TKK it was the scene where Bobby is disqualified and throws his belt down in front of Kreese and walks out... and seeing Johnny’s face in the background as Bobby took Daniel out, it just is another sad scene. Or the Halloween fight where Bobby tells Johnny to leave Daniel alone... also, the beach scene with Johnny and Bobby being real pals on their bikes, and Dutch’s yellow helmet rolling across the ground... the soccer tryouts... I love soccer. The learning how to take a fall part because I’ve had that happen (but the kid wasn’t on a motorbike, just a regular bike, and it wasn’t a steep hill, but I had another kid knock me off my bike like that :/ )

Will Anthony LaRusso ever be relevant?:

oh man, you know it, that kid is gonna be like the master of Karate or something... that kid’s got mad skills... ha! I dunno 🤷🏼‍♀️ he’s there as a foil or something... anyways, he absolutely annoys the heck out of me because he reminds me of a kid I babysat once... but yeah, they’ll probably make him more relevant...

You live in The Valley and are forced into the karate gang war. Which dojo do you join?:

Oh dang, yeah... ummmm, well... I think Bobby, Jimmy, and Tommy would be my friends... but I think I’d choose Miyagi Do in TKK and help Daniel, while also trying to talk some sense into my friends... in CK, I think I’d pick Miyagi Fang, but before that, I probably would have chosen Cobra Kai when Johnny was Sensei and probably would have jumped ship when Kreese came in. Or, option 3. Fake my death, change my name, and run... (bonus... if Johnny told me to flip the script, I’d give myself a badass name like Hornet, because you don’t really feel the sting till a few minutes later... but it’s bad... or I’d just join Miyagi Do)

It’s the crossover event of the century! Which TV show are you combining with Cobra Kai for an hour-long Saturday night special?:

Pfffffft, OTHERWORLD so that it would be like Jimmy got sucked into an alternate dimension and he’s lost with his family... no I’m not currently thinking of writing a Fanfiction about this... or am I? Hmmmmm...

💫 I Nominate @dxrkvibes23

@kingkarate @cobrasandalleycats @strikelikeacobrakai @legolugosi @transdaniellarusso @dream-beyond-the-fantasy @cobrakaikaratedad @johnnywhorance @johnnyavanti (Sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged or have already done this...) 💫

[stronglyobsessed]

Hello! I'm new to the Kingsman fandom. I watched both earlier this year for the first time after seeing Taron in Rocketman. I adore the first and like some parts of the second very much though I do have my issues with the movie overall. What's your story behind getting into the Kingsman fandom? Did you see the movies when they were released? What about them that appealed to? Also if you ever want to talk about the movies my inbox is always open!

Hello!!! Welcome welcome!!! Hope you like long responses, because this is likely to be one. So I am going to insert a keep reading tab so that I don’t clog up feeds with it’s length

First I’d like to say WOO for coming into the Kingsman fandom. We can always use more faces, as well as some of the veterans popping up. The fandom is kinda slow right now, but with the movies so far apart, and the fandom was small to begin with, it’s tapered off. So it’s always nice to see new faces surface.

The movies are great. I love the first, of course, and personally adore the second, outside of them killing Rox and Merlin - I have serious issues with both of those. Merlin especially because he was SUPPOSED to live, like that was original to the script, but because it had a better reaction from the test audience, they killed him - Mark Strong was cross with that, saw in an interview.

Okay. I came into the fandom around December 2017, so just about 2 years ago. I was mainly a reader then, and fell hard and fast into the fanfiction - I had never heard of, nor read, fanfiction before this. I’m sort of mad about that, because I would have started writing a long time ago - I mean I sort of did. I wrote an original story in high school, so I kind of always liked to write. Whether it be stories, poems and the like.

My story started off in September of 2017. My husband’s friend was living with us until he moved to Arizona the following year. One day he was like “You guys ever seen Kingsman?” I’m like...? What is that? I had never heard of it. He described the movie and so we all watched it. I loved it from then. Now I wasn’t looking for any fanfiction or anything yet - didn’t know it existed and all that jazz.

I heard the second movie had just been released in theaters that month, but I wasn’t really SO invested I was gonna see it in the theater. We waited until December to watch it on DVD. We rented it and I was like...OH! So, long story short about myself, with any TV show or movie I watch, that I really really like, I spin stories in my head. Not knowing what I was doing was essentially creating fanfiction in my head.

So naturally I was doing that with Kingsman. I began to google it. I loved Eggsy so much, googling pictures of him, and searching for ANY evidence a third movie would take place. To me, Eggsy being married and becoming a Prince just didn’t suit him. Yes, I love the idea of him having a HEA, married with babies, but he’s a spy and was just finding his footing as Galahad. I felt he was robbed of that, being a Prince would make it hard to keep that job - he even says it.

While searching for these things I found fanficiton. I found it through fanfic.net, and wattapad, and an assorted other places. A lot of it was reader insert and Eggsy. Where I liked it, it wasn’t my favorite, so I started finding some with Eggsy and a female OC, and some with Eggsy and Roxy. Of course, the more you search the more you find. I started to find Harry/Eggsy fics - Hartwin - and I won’t lie, wasn’t my jam at first. I had never read anything with same sex relationships, and I have NO issues with it, friends with plenty of gay people, but not the sort of READING I was exposed to.

I consumed everything I could find - of fanfic - and than I found AO3, and holy fucking shit. It was like a gold miners dream, or a starved fanfic readers dream. I loved it. I started writing my own fic in my phone, while I waited for the ability to sign up on AO3 - you needed a code at the time, not sure if they still do that - and so that’s what I did. I created an alternate life for Eggsy, wife, kids, long life and my favorite headcanon that he becomes Arthur when he’s older. So I read the same sex fanfic, while not being 100% comfortable with writing it myself yet, but they say you learn by writing and reading it, right?

Eventually I found Merlin/Eggsy - Merwin - fanfic, after about a month of posting my own writing, and good god. I was so fucking sunk. I needed to write THAT! I’ve been a shameless Merwin shipper since then, so almost 2 years, and been writing consistently. Of course with writing I created Tumblr and found SO many people who loved this too. Wrote fic, made art, did challenges, exchanges and just a fandom so fucking loving and caring and supportive of one another.

Manners Maketh Man, and all that. Kingsman fandom surely lives up to that motto.

But in short, I came into the fandom from my husband’s friend introducing me to the movies. Thanks, Mikey!

So no, I did not see the movies when they came out, and I actually came into the fandom late, but I’m PRAYING it picks up again with the new movies.

The movies were appealing because they had the perfect mix of action, comedy, and heart. I loved it. Eggsy was so well developed and his character was just so relatable and you were really rooting for him the whole time through the first movie. I knew some of the actors in the first: Colin Firth and Samuel Jackson, I mean...Colin in that church scene? That’s the best shit I’ve seen.

I of course wanted to watch the second, because I loved the first, and I will be watching the prequel and the last Eggsy/Harry movie.

I’m not sorry I found this fandom. I love it and I’ve made some awesome fucking friends, even met one in real life this past October! I am forever grateful for this hobby, and the fandom, it’s so great!!!

Thank you for the ask! And welcome again! My ask box, as well as private message, is always open for fandom discussions, the movies, headcanons and anything else you’d like to chat about!!!

[glamrockmonarch]

The Flu: Ben Hardy Miniseries

Part 1. Bless You.

Mini Series Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3

Summary: You are an actress and worked with the boys in BoRhap, after the premiere and press tour you wind up working on another project with one of them; Ben. As your roles are tied together you find yourselves spending more and more time in each other’s company, becoming closer than ever and developing feelings. Ben cannot bring himself to ruin what you have with another one of your friends by acting on these new found love until you get sick out of the blue right in the middle of the production and this sparks something between the two.

Words: 7220.

A/N: So this is the first one! I have to warn you, although there will only be three parts, they will be long. Also, I mention a fictional movie (a story inside the story I made up as well, I know how meta, right?) and it’s based on Sarah Lark’s books that I’ve read and loved. There are some adult topics being mentioned and of course, someone gets ill in this. I still have great hopes you’ll enjoy this!

You sniffed and texted Joe to stop texting while driving, which you were aware defeated the whole purpose of telling him that via text while he was driving.

Your room was dark, the curtains pulled closed and your body already covered by the bedsheets of the small house your manager had rented for you while you were shooting in England.

Knowing Joe you did not want him to get hurt and he could get distracted on the phone with ease. This both concerned and amused you.

The day went by in a flash. It had been the first free day you had had in about two months and you decided on spending it with Ben.  Ben was a friend of yours from a previous project. You worked together when you played a minor role in Bohemian Rhapsody, Queen’s epic biopic. You had been good friends before and stayed in touch after production wrapped and you were doing other projects, but once you realised you would be working together once again, you two became almost inseparable. 

Gwilym was the first to predict it, seeing as Ben was already there at what would be your home for the following two months on the east side of London when he arrived to help you settle in. 

“You’ve already had her for all of three months, let me give her a proper welcome now!” Gwil had said as he pushed Ben away from the doorway and extended his long arms towards you. 

In fact, by the time production started in England you had already filmed all you needed in the beautiful southern island. You had a ton of pictures of Ben killing or taking out huge spiders and weird bugs that managed to crawl into your hotel room.

“Oh, that’s the thing!” You smiled with your face buried on his chest, covered by a fluffy sweater you nuzzled into.

Although Gwilym was tall and lean, he gave the best of hugs, wrapping his arms around you in a soothing manner that was all too Gwilym. 

Now that you are a good four months in, your relationship with Ben had flourished. You considered him your confidant and trusted talking to him about anything. Ben was comfortable allowing himself to be candid with you too, both of you sometimes finding yourselves deep in conversations about failed relationships, lactose intolerance, fear of where your careers were heading, and whatnot.

In truth, it would be weird if you did not find each other’s company adequate - at least. Your director threw you two right into the water, shooting the most difficult scenes right away and giving you a bad case of “we filmed live aid on day one”.

The story was quite complex, being set in the latter half of the 19th century, you were portraying a girl from a middle-class family whose father had recently fallen ill. Your character is then forced into a marriage with a strange man, Ben Hardy’s character, a man who comes from a wealthy family, who would inherit what little your father had once he passed. It is not romantic, Ben’s character is portrayed as some kind of insensitive monster for the first few pages on the script. Your character loathes him for what he represents and sees little in him but a man who has never worked a day in his life and expects women to give him whatever he wants. Of course, Ben would not take a role with such little depth, in fact, his character grows out of the initial repulsion to become a Mister Darcy of sorts. His character grows through the story and the relationship between him and his wife gets better and even friendly once the pair are shipped to New Zealand so he can take care of his father’s mine in a small town called Christchurch. That was where the real story developed, surrounded by the beauties of the island and the local Maoris, the story serves to speak of the differences between the two people who now live there. The hard work and sacrifices the first colonizers had to go through to bring prosperity to the country.

You like this transition and you get to experience it with your character as you too start learning more and more about Ben. 

So after spending a good hour in hair and makeup on your first day, fooling around while you had your hair curled and messed with, you were greeted on set by the whole crew expecting you to to get into a bed and pretend to have sex. Of course, it was awkward for a few minutes, your character was supposed to have had a fight with Ben’s character before this, and the whole night was supposed to be horrible for her. It was not the first time you filmed a scene like this, but it was the first time your character was not into it. Ben’s character was supposed to be drunk and get violent, it did not sound like your friend at all. It was also your characters’ first night in the foreign country, their first evening together alone at last. Neither one of them wanted to be there, but they were, so these characters had to fulfill their duties and get on with life.

Once the camera started rolling you two went at it like professionals. You stood still in an embarrassingly transparent white gown while Ben circled you with a glass of whiskey in his hand. The scene started slow and it took you and the director a couple of takes before you got the rhythm right. Pacing yourselves, you and Ben worked it out in front of the camera.

You yelled at him. He pushed you back on the bed. You slapped him. He pulled your hair, and when his character was supposed to be forcing himself on yours, you cried and pulled your hands away from him, turning to look away as the script dictated your character to do. Crying and whining, you shut your eyes with a camera angled only inches away from your face.

Ben had a hard time after this, he apologized to you about a thousand times.

Although you were going to use a wig for most of the scenes, the ones where you were supposed to go to bed were the only ones for which you wore your blonde hair down. Ben thought he had been too aggressive, he did not think of it while you were filming, he just let his character take over and when the director called for cut-scene after only a couple of takes, he looked at your face and saw the mess of tears that it had become. You had to recover your breath from the fake sobbing, you worked yourself up for the scene but since the director liked what he had already there was no need for you to keep the intensity.

“It’s okay, Ben,” you patted his shoulder as you sat up in the bed on set while the crew came around to do their magic. “You did great! Didn’t think you had it in ya...” 

Ben frowned, there were tears streaming down your face yet you smiled. 

“I didn’t know you could actually cry on command.” He admitted, sitting next to you. He touched his cheek. “You ever thought of boxing?”

You laughed and leant on his shoulder, smiling as the makeup girls came to examine the damage done to their work. 

“Oi, why do I get to wear a ridiculous piece of tape down here,” You pointed down at your lap as you saw the wardrobe woman come in, “and Ben gets real size pants?”

Ben chuckled and put his hand on your knee, squeezing it as he thought of what you said.

“Hey, I paid my dues on Eastenders!” Ben looked you dead in the eyes, “I was a piece of meat for the producers.”

You stared at him and lifted your head from his shoulder.

“Are you joking?” You put your hand on his and smiled. “That how I feel right now. They gave me a piece of yellow tape to cover up my vagina.”

Ben’s eyes narrowed and he looked away for a second.

“Why not just a thong? Wouldn’t that be easier to hide?”

“I told them that but they brought me flip flops!” You explained, interrupted now by the makeup artist retouching your makeup.

“Oh, that will get red in a few hours.” Beth, the makeup artist said as she stared at Ben’s cheek, giving you a chastising look. 

“Sorry.” You mumbled. 

After this first experience on set, everything else was like a walk in the park. The director had put you through the toughest parts early onto production to get you two to work up your chemistry from there.

It turned out to work so well that you were at the moment getting a facetime call from Ben. Considering if you should reject it and go to bed you turned on your side in the comfort of your warm bed and rested your cheek on the plush pillow. In the end, you slid your finger and watched your screen darken when his face came up in the middle of a dark square - he was in bed too. 

“What’re you doing Miss Everleigh?” He asked in a low voice. 

You snorted at him using your character’s name. You had a usual joke with it, everyone on set called you the Everleighs and it was easy to see why. You two were always hanging out together between takes, and if you were not you would still know exactly where to find the other. You would bring cookies to set, Ben would walk in with coffee for everyone. You two were ridiculously connected, though the crew knew better than to tease you for it. 

“I am about to go to bed.” You explained to him, “I have to be on Beth’s chair by 4.” You ran your hand through your face. 

“Sucks. Me too.” Ben sighed for a long moment. “Want me to pick you up?” 

“Is it a bother?” You scrunched up your nose. 

Ben laughed and stuck his tongue out at you. “Never, Y/N.”

You smiled at him on your screen and noticed him yawning. 

“Thanks, we should get some sleep now.” 

“Yup.” He agreed, “see you in a few!”

“Bye!” You waved and finished the conversation. 

It was still funny to you that after all the time you spent together that morning, Ben still managed to forget to ask if you wanted a ride for the next day. During the last couple of weeks, you were going to be shooting scenes with different units. You were going to Wales next month to shoot some of the initial scenes on the script and Ben would stay in London with the first unit. So, for the time being, you enjoyed the couple of times a week when you and Ben could ride together to work. 

As you set your phone down, you felt if buzz and turned it around again to see a notification on your screen. A text message followed by a second and a third one. All from the same person. Joe. 

You smiled and put your finger on the white circle of your phone, the only button available, to unlock it. Reading the messages in silence. 

“I’m not reckless, you know? And I am at a coffee shop fyi.”  

“I just checked and it is getting late there, are you going to sleep soon?”

“Goodnight y/n. Call me when you’re free. Love you.” 

Joe was a sweetheart. And he also hated to be missing out on your and Ben’s adventures while working on this project. From his whining via voice notes on the group chat when Ben sent a picture of you learning how to ride a horse like a lady, to the time when he actually exited the group after you sent a video of Ben and yourself doing his BAB dance in full costume featuring your hairstylist in the middle of a farm in NZ.

“About to doze off. We have an early morning tomorrow. Love you too, silly!”

You turned your phone off and put it on the nightstand to leave it to charge while you rolled on your back and pulled the covers up to your nose.

Spending the day laying on Ben’s couch playing Fifa and watching films really was a good way of spending your free day; topped only by you two venturing outside in sweatpants to get to Ben’s favourite sushi place for dinner.

You closed your eyes and saw black, tired, you were pulled from the world in an instant.

You sighed, waking up suddenly to the sound of your doorbell ringing. Pushing the covers away, you noticed a light layer of sweat covering your body. Forgetting about it you put on your robe and walked through the long hall, passing by the bathroom, kitchen and living room. When you opened the door, you knew who to expect.

“Morning!” Ben smiled from behind a pair of squared sunglasses.

You grunted your response, leaning on your door for support as you stepped to the side to let him in.

Ben stepped inside, kissing your cheek and waiting for you to close the door. He watched you go back to your bedroom and followed.

“I feel sick.” You admitted, walking past the bed to go find an outfit for the little time it would take to go to set and back home.

There was a light pounding on your head, you thought it might go away after you had coffee, so you did not complain too much about it.

“Anyone awake at this hour has to feel sick, Y/N.” Ben sat on the edge of your bed and saw you throw some clothes to the side on a chair.

You huffed and threw yourself back on your bed.

“I don’t want to leave you!” You cried out, the sound muffled from the thick bed covers.

While you savoured the last seconds in your bed, Ben took his chance and snapped a picture of you, which he would proceed to post later on his Instagram to further tease your fan base. Everyone went nuts when the news that you were working on the same project broke, the fans had been loving the content you two created on your social media accounts, with the interventions of your friends it was even better.

Ben knew the routine already, he patted your back and then saw you get up and make your bed with a pout. He helped by tossing some pillows at you, and straightened the duvet on one of the sides before you announced you would get chanced in the bathroom.

Your friend liked this natural feeling of domestic life. Picking you up was the part of his day when he felt like any other person working a job in the world. He would help make your bed and if there was any time he would brew some coffee. You would come out of your room wearing some jeans, a shirt, and hoodie, and you would tell him where the cookies were. It was like this all the time, he thought he would miss it once the production wrapped shooting. But he was thankful he got a stronger friendship from it.

“Hey, Ben?” You walked into the kitchen this morning with a tired expression.

It was odd, by this moment you should have gotten to terms with the lack of sleep. You should be more upbeat, but even your face seemed to refuse to show colour.

“Are you alright?” The blonde wondered, placing his hands on the kitchen counter behind him. “You look...”

“Sick?” You cut him off, rolling your eyes, “I feel sick, I think I’ll catch a cold or something.”

Ben offered you a thermos filled with coffee. You took it with a nod and thanked him. Grabbing your hoodie and jacket you walk outside to Ben’s car.

“You can nap while we get there,” Ben said to you once you were both sat inside his vehicle.

“I’ll do that. Thanks.”

You put on your seatbelt and curl into a ball on the passenger’s seat, falling asleep in a matter of seconds.

Ben had to admit that this was a little odd, but this late into the shooting it might just be that you were experiencing some degree of exhaustion. He tries not to worry as he woke you up once the car was parked.

“We’re her,.” Ben announced.

You sniffed and blinked. Wiping away the sleep from your eyes as Ben got out of the car and came to open the door for you.

You felt dizzy and your head was starting to feel more like a drum than a head. Not wanting to delay production or cause concern to anyone, you smiled at the crew members you ran into on the way to the makeup trailer and sat on your usual chair.

Everything else went as normal, you reviewed your lines while Beth worked her magic on you and heard Ben joke around. You replied a few times but watched him leave before you did.

“I’ll see you at lunch!” He called back when he exited the trailer.

Today you were shooting some scenes with other actors, in fact, almost all your scenes together were done; so next, you would be going to film the basis of your characters. This morning you would be filming your character explaining herself to the boy she loved, she had to give up on him to make her mother at ease and marry Ben’s character. It was a conflicting scene where you would have to show love, remorse and grieve, but your character being so righteous proved to hide these emotions well, making it difficult for you to convey them in a believable manner.

Your next scene was one at a dinner party, then you would play the piano and meet other characters important to the plot later on.

Had it not been for the tight corset you might have had a chance at pulling through the day of shooting.

Followed by an assistant you were directed into a barn, inside the lights were set, mics too. You saw the rest of the actors standing back behind the monitors as you approached Craig.

“‘Sup Craig!” You greeted him, kissing his cheek.

You had met before, having filmed already a few scenes together.

“Not much, how you doing?” He looked you up and down and pointed at the waist on your dress. “That looks surreal!”

“Well, breathing in it is surreal!” Your eyes widened but you both laughed.

The scene was set and everyone stood on their marks when the director asked them to. Once the camera started rolling, you remembered the words on the script.

“I am so sorry,” you said, holding Craig’s hands as he stared with a confused expression on his face. “I tried to talk to my mother, but... Father has already expressed his desires. I am to be married to Mister Everleigh.”

Craig’s face showed confusion and he squeezed your hands, showing how his character reacted with desperation as he first heard the news from his beloved’s lips. 

“But...a marriage without love?” Craig shook his head, “you said you would never...how can you agree to it? Will you not fight it?”

“Father has fallen ill.” You rushed to explain. “He has been clear he wants things this way. I cannot go against his will.” 

“I-I-I...” Craig looked down at your hands as the camera came closer to the two. “I will ask for your hand!”

You close your eyes, a sting of pain shot through your stomach at this moment and you struggle to think of the lines. 

“No,” you began, placing a hand on your abdomen over the thick fabric of your tight costume, “No... Percy...” You used Craig’s character’s name. “It will be no use. Mister Everleigh has already set the date, mother has fitted me into the dress...”

You opened your eyes and took a deep breathe, watching him cut you off, as the script dictated. 

“I do not care!” He pulled you closer, cupping the back of your head and pressing his nose against yours. “I love you. I will speak to your father, there must be something-”

You pushed Craig away, both confused and scared for what you were feeling at the moment. Your head spun around as if the earth was shaking beneath your feet. Sighing you shook your head and slapped Craig’s hands as he tried to hold you again. 

“It has been decided. Percy, I will not defy him on his dying bed.” You cried out, before storming off out of the barn followed by another one of the cameras. 

“CUT!” The director called. 

You stopped and brought a hand to your head, trying to regain composure. You and Craig repeated the scene a couple of times, by the time you were moving on to a different scene your head about to blow, you could barely stand it and asked your assistant on set to bring you some paracetamol to try and help out. 

For about half the morning it sort of did, but then it all got far worse. You were in the middle of shooting another scene involving Craig, this time you were supposed to get off one of the horses with his help while Ben’s character watched from a distance. The meeting with him had been already filmed, but this was somewhat important to the storytelling or at least to the director’s creative vision of the film. Having learnt months ago how to ride a horse you encountered no problems getting on the saddle and riding around in a circle with the horse while the crew set up for the scene. 

Once you were rolling you figured your stomach would be fine, since you had been experiencing little discomfort since popping the small white pill into your mouth. Of course, things went wrong quick after you stopped the horse at what was supposed to be the Jones, your character’s family, small home. You jumped off the saddle with your hands on Craig’s shoulders and as soon as your feet touched the ground, you watched the world revolving around you come down along with you. 

Everything looked blurry and judging from the director’s call on cutting the shot, it was evident. A second later you found yourself staring at Craig’s face as if he was staring from above, the sky grey as usual on the background of this image of his dark hair and protuberant nose. 

“Y/N? Y/N?” A voice echoed in your ears and struggled to make out the voice, “Y/N? Are you okay?” 

It was your assist. Next, you thought to hear her saying she had brought you some painkillers for your head, the director agreed and someone else got on the phone, you were pulled up and sat. Only now did you realise you had been laid across the entrance of the state. 

“What is it?” You closed your eyes but felt the now familiar touch of Ben’s hands on your face. 

Your friend pushed the fake hair from your wig away from your face and watched intently. You looked paler than usual, a fake blush had been put on your cheeks to make you appear okay, but the lack of spark in your eyes gave it away fast. You were starting to sweat and as he ran his fingers along your face he noticed the reason: you were burning up. 

“I think...” you managed, feeling a strange sandiness in your mouth, your tongue moved in an odd way and your chest squeezed into itself. “I’m gonna be sick.” 

Just the moment you pushed past Ben and stumbled onto the corner your stomach flipped and you fell on your knees as you threw up. Crying out, at last, you were surrounded by crew members and actors. Craig and Ben helped pull your hair away and one of the cameramen held your hand as you got back to your feet. 

“I feel like shit,” you admitted to Ben once your assistant wiped your face to get rid of some vomit staining the corners of your mouth. 

Ben frowned, concerned about what could be wrong with you. 

“You should rest.” He said and turned around to see the director coming up to talk to you. 

He stepped away to let you have a word with the director of the film. 

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” The old man asked, fixing his glasses on his nose. 

“I feel sick, sir.” You replied in all honesty. “But I can go on!” 

To prove your point you tried to stand up, only to shake in your feet for a few seconds and have Craig hold you back up, Ben rushing to your aid as well. The director held your hands and pursed his lips in a tight frustrated smile. 

“Call the medics,” the director instructed his assistant and put his eyes back on you. “I do not mind figuring out what to do without you for a few days, go get treated. You can finish up later.” 

Like a child, you nodded and the man kissed your cheek to let you know it was fine. 

Ben wrapped his arms around you as the director called the crew in for a quick meeting, they would have to rethink the day of shooting and figure out what to do while you got better. 

You leant on Ben’s chest and let your head sink on the crook of his chest while the paramedics arrived and put you on a stretcher to take you to the hospital. You were ushered back to your trailer and Beth helped you take the wig and costume off before heading to the closest hospital. 

“Do you have your phone?” Ben asked, walking along with the paramedics as you were rolled through the parking lot. 

“Yeah, I’ll text you when I know what’s wrong.” You promised. “Call me when you have time!” 

“I’ll come to see you when we’re done!” Ben stopped walking once you were carried inside the ambulance.

You waved at him before the paramedics closed the doors of the ambulance. You had never been on an ambulance before and it felt like you were in deep trouble. The paramedics started asking you questions about your symptoms, checking your vitals and feeling your stomach, finding a spot where it hurt. 

“Stop!” You pushed the hand away, feeling a strong pain shoot right up your abdomen. “That hurts.” 

After a short ride to the hospital and some tests, you were informed by the doctor that you were dealing with food poisoning. Since being in the hospital you had not stopped throwing up, unable to be medicated without a diagnosis by the time the information from the laboratory was delivered to you, you had already been given an IV. The doctor thought you might as well make the best out of it, and gave you the medicines through it.

You fell asleep a few seconds after you were medicated, but you were glad you would not need surgery or any other more invasive treatment.

•••

Ben didn’t get a text from you but he made sure to send you flowers at the hospital and went straight to see you after the shooting was done for the day.

You texted Joe while you waited for Ben to come back. He wanted to know how you were doing since he heard you were sick. After telling him you were alright he asked if there was someone home to take care of you while you recovered.

“That seems a little bit extreme, Joe. I’m just fine!” You texted him.

Changing the subject you sent him a picture of Ben’s hair and laughed at his reply.

“Don’t make me laugh! My tummy hurts!” You write back at him, and he texts an answer quickly enough.

“Sorry! Damn it, kinda wish I could be there!”

You glance over at the door and watch Ben come in with a coffee from the machine and pudding from the cafeteria. He shakes it a bit and extends it towards you.

“For me?” You wonder, brightening up to the small gesture. “Aw, Benny!”

You bring a hand to your chest, and text Joe back.

“I wish so too! At least I could punch you every time you made me laugh!” You added some emojis to soften the message, although you knew Joe would know you were playing.

“Who are you talking to?” Ben wondered once he put the pudding on your side table and sat on a chair next to your bed.

“Mozzarella sticks, Ben.” You joked.

The blonde snorted and threw his head back, rolling his eyes at your lame joke.

Ben knew it was wrong and not normal, the way he could not help but stare at you while you laughed and giggled at whatever Joe was telling you.

“Okay.” you put your phone down and looked up at your friend with tired eyes. “How was it without me on set?”

As Ben thought of the way to answer, he realised something. And he looked away from you for a moment.

“Absolutely boring.” He smiled up at you, placing his hand on yours.

You turned your hand and squeezed his, now Ben couldn’t help but wonder what your feelings were about this. About how close you had become. What would you say when he told you that his heart skipped a beat when he saw you faint? What would you do if he admitted his skin tingled now as you rubbed the back of his hand with your thumb?

Expose YN and Joe’s closeness. YN gets sick progressively worsening until she faints during a scene. Ben gets concerned, they spent a lot of time together before and now she is sick he wants to be with her, noticing how much he misses her. He realised he likes her more than just as a friend.

Ben stays with her one night to take care of her. As he is about to admit his feelings for her his phone rings and answering it turns out Joe wants his help to ask YN out on a date when they go to a fashion show in Paris the next week.

Taglist: @shanetoo  @artemisiaarm  @sarai-ibn-la-ahad 

[hopelessromantic1352]

You Are My Muse - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 is here! I hope you all like it! As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Word count: Around 2,000

Thanks @alleksa16 for all the support!

"We are skipping pleasantries since we are all familiar with each other and we must work quickly to reshoot all of Miss Persimmon's scenes."

Thomas was sitting at the head of the table looking thoughtfully at everyone sitting with him. He called the cast and crew together so I could get a feel for my character, Alexis Lively.

"Don't you already know the script pretty well, Stephanie? I mean didn't you tell me that you helped Thomas revise it a little?" Addison was sitting across from me next to Matt.

I felt my face heat up and I could imagine that I looked like a tomato right about now. I could feel Thomas' glare next to me but I was too scared to look. No one was supposed to know that Thomas let me help him with script. I personally don't know why it mattered but he told me that I needed to keep it between us.

I had completely forgotten that I told Addison.

"I uh, I mean," I take a deep breath, "I know my character pretty good, but I think reading lines with all of you would help a lot so I can just jump right in."

Chris nods and starts flipping through the script, "I can understand that."

"By the way Stephanie, you did a good job working with our resident grouch over there with the script, I enjoyed reading through the notes you both added." Holly pushes the brim of her glasses up and proceeds to take a sip of her coffee.

"Thanks," I manage a smile but I still feel tension between me and Thomas. "Think I deserve a producer credit or something?"

I was trying to lighten the mood.

Thomas snorts, "Please, you did an adequate job with the little things you added and changed. Holly and myself put in long hours of editing and perfecting to get this script where it is now."

I could feel anger bubbling up inside of me, he thought I did hardly anything? I clench my fists and glare at him. He and I spent lots of nights in his living room reading through this script and editing it. Did he really think I did hardly anything?

Someone clears their throat.

"Anyway, Steph do you want to read through some scenes?" Matt looks at me, trying to pull my death glare away from our director.

"Definitely." I say through gritted teeth.

I keep glaring at Thomas, whose eyes never leave mine, until Holly speaks up.

"Why don't you guys run through the scene on page twenty three. Matt's character, Logan O'Neill, found where Alexis was living and decided to pay her a visit to try and apologize for how things ended between the two of them."

"And by apologizing you mean he tries to get her in on a big score right? To try and make up for what he did wrong?" I finally looked away from Thomas and tried to get my focus back on the movie.

"Precisely." Thomas decides to speak.

I look at him, glaring daggers before turning to the page of our script.

"Matt start off where Logan says, "It's good to see you too Lex." Thomas shifts in his seat, making me glance at him. I see he's looking at me, a softness in his eyes and slight frown on his lips.

Matt nods, clears his throat and jumps into character. "Lex, it's good to see you."

"I guess I can't say the same." I try to gauge how Alexis is feeling and try to put that tone in my voice.

"Look, I know I messed things up bad, but let me make it up to you, for old times sake?" Matt really has his character down.

"Why the hell should I trust you? You're the one who about got me killed and blew our whole job. Thanks to you I almost got caught."

I glance at Thomas again and notice he's biting his lip.

"What?" I quickly say something before Matt can move on in the script.

Thomas almost looks startled. "What?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Your biting your lip, what am I doing wrong?" I'm sounding more on edge than I wanted to, but it would be nice if he would just spit it out.

Now he raises both his eyebrows. "Alexis would be more angry than how you are portraying her."

I nod slowly, "Okay."

"How you were just speaking to me? That's how Alexis would be speaking to Logan."

I wince at the jab, knowing damn well I deserved that.

"Got it." I say it quietly and look at him trying to apologize, but he's focused on his script again.

"Pick up where Logan says the score is bigger than anything either of them have ever worked on, Matt." Thomas keeps his eyes glued to the script.

"Wait, so right in here is where she realizes she can con the FBI right?"

Holly nods at me. "Correct, pretty genius huh?" She smiles widely.

I nod.

"Alright," Matt clears his throat again. "Lex, this job, it's bigger than anything either of us has ever been a part of. I promise that I will have your back no matter what, I want to make everything up to you."

"Give me a few days." My tone is confident.

"Okay, we have time, but please tell me you are actually thinking about it? This is a once in a lifetime score."

"I am. I promise."

Short and sweet, I like Alexis more and more.

"That was...adequate I suppose." Thomas' arms are crossed and he's looking straight at me. "Let's start shooting tomorrow."

Everyone closes their scripts and starts to get up. I do the same.

"Stephanie, wait a moment, please."

I look at Thomas, who's looking at his script again and I sit back down.

After everyone said goodbye and left, Thomas and I sit in a few moments of silence.

We both begin speaking at the same time. I smile sheepishly at him.

"Sorry."

"No, please, go ahead." His eyes are softened again.

"I'm sorry, for getting snippy with you. It was very unprofessional." I look down at my hands in my lap and start fiddling with the bracelet on my wrist.

"I apologize for making it sound like you did very little work on the script." He pauses and I look up at him. "You worked hard on it and did very good work. I am proud of you for that."

Those words made me feel like the tension disappeared. That's high praise coming from Thomas Hunt, and he doesn't give out compliments often.

I smile at him and take a deep breath. "Sorry I told Addison about it. I just kind of let it slip one day when we went to lunch."

He smiles slightly. "It is quite alright. It doesn't matter." He shakes his head, "I should not have snapped at you, either."

I let out a small laugh and see another small smile grace his lips.

"Thomas, do you think I was portraying Alexis good?"

He looks at me for moment. "I think you need to channel her feelings more. Think about how angry she must be for Logan ratting her out. She almost got killed, she didn't get the score from that job, and she got arrested by the FBI, not that Logan knows the last part, but she would have a monumental grudge against him."

"So, then she decides to do the job with him underneath the Fed's noses and sets Logan up for the fall."

Thomas nods.

"Okay. I think I may need to work on my delivery before we start shooting tomorrow. I don't feel like I know exactly how she would talk and her tone and mannerisms. That kind of stuff, you know?"

"I understand. Would you like to run lines with me?"

I nod, "If you wouldn't mind."

He shakes his head. "Of course not." He flips through his script. "Let's start where you and Matt started today."

I nod and flip to the correct page.

"Ready?"

"Yep."

After about an hour I felt like I was ready to give up.

I let out a frustrated groan and throw my hands over my face.

"Why can't I get this right?" I look at Thomas pleading with my eyes for him to know why I can't get it.

He has snapped a couple times but always apologized after. He knows that I'm frustrated and I think it's making him frustrated.

"Perhaps you need to take a break for awhile." He runs a hand through his hair.

He closes his script, slides it into his briefcase and stands up.

I follow suit.

"Would you like to get dinner?"

"As if that's a question." I look up at him before starting towards the door.

He smirks and gently grabs me by the waist, pulling me towards him.

"I truly am sorry for my attitude earlier." He strokes my back with his hand and looks into my eyes.

"It's okay Thomas really. You apologized and that's what matters to me."

His dark brown eyes are mesmerizing. I could lose myself in them all day if that were possible.

"To be brutally honest, I may have been worried that you were going to..." He pauses and his cheeks stain a light pink.

"That I was going to steal your thunder?" I smile at him mischievously.

His blush deepens, "Perhaps."

I place a hand on his cheek and smile, genuinely, at him. "I would never do such a thing."

He chuckles. "I don't believe you."

"Ouch," I laugh and trace his jawline with my finger absentmindly.

"This whole dynamic. Us, I mean, is something that I have never done. We are going to have to learn how to work together and keep our personal lives from interfering with our professional lives." His tone has gone hard again.

I nod before I lay my head against his chest. "I understand. It's kind of harder than I thought it would be."

His chest rumbles with a rare laugh. "It is much more difficult, isn't it?"

I sigh and pick my head up. When I look up, his eyes were already on me.

I bite my bottom lip. "It's worth it though."

"It certainly is."

He dips down and kisses my neck gently, sending a shiver down my spine. His lips move upwards towards my ear.

He whispers, "I love you," before nibbling on my earlobe.

I take a shaky breath as he kisses along my jawline.

"I love you, too."

With that, he finally moves to my lips. The kisses are gentle and sweet. He pulls back way too soon and I let out a small whimper.

I see him smile before I move my lips to his neck.

"Stephanie, you do realize that we are still in the conference room I rented out for the table read, correct?"

I pause the path my lips were taking and look around us.

"I guess this'll have to wait until tonight." I pull back completely and straighten his tie before running my fingers through my hair.

His lips are quirked up as he checks his watch. "There is a good Thai restaurant a few blocks from here-"

"Say no more. If you say it's good let's go." I smile as he takes my hand in his and leads us to the door.

[doodleimprovement]

Wellness: A Villian!AU Coco Fic Part 6: The Party Lights

Psychologist Malcom Kevgil is called upon by the Riveras to help with Miguels post-mortem development. He quickly learns however that this is moreso a trauma rehabilitation, and an untangling of lies and 90 year old mysteries.

He’s a smart man, but will compassion and an analytical mind win out against Family ties?

.... I have not updated this since July i am SO SORRY AKSJFSDLKJF But i hope you like the chapter! Theres only like, 3 or 4 more parts i think so this is actually like, the home stretch, almost

This particular version of the AU has been written and developed by @im-fairly-whitty [Click here to read!]

Rating: Gen (subject to change depending) \ Warnings: mentions of alcohol and intoxication \ Word Count: 1265 // Masterpost Link

Sometimes, all you need to do to reorient yourself is to get some pent up emotion out

And Malcom’s favorite way to do that was to party

Now, to clarify, partying for Malcom does not mean “getting drunk until you’re seeing double”.

For Malcom, partying was dancing, drinking maybe one or two drinks, and socializing. Maybe even a little flirting if he was in the mood. One of his friends had called him a “wholesome” partier, and he couldn’t really argue with that.

Malcom’s go-to club was called “La Viva”. It was bright, colorful, and well kept by a man who had run an 80s night club in life. Perfect for Malcom, a man who would never really leave his beloved 80s behind. The outside was surprisingly benign- colored pink with a few rainbow banners and a green neon Sign reading LA VIVA in script, followed by a white lighted up lilly. Inside however, was where the party lived. 

The dance floor in La Viva was the main attraction. Shining and sparkling, it reflected light from the various colored stagelamps that blinked and shuttered, alighting the room without ever having to turn on any of the (Emergency) overhead lamps. It was also absolutely massive, taking up more room than it probably should have. The bar was squeezed into a corner, with barely over a dozen seats and there were benches and tables strewn along the edges. But if you came to La Viva, you came to dance.

Which made local disaster Rodrigo Rivera a complete anomaly in this bright and flashy entertainment center.

But hey, he’d been invited.

And, while trying to get his boney butt to the bar, he was bumped into so hard they both ended up clattering to the floor

“Oh, sorry about- ay! Hey there!”

Rui got up and looked at who he’d bumped into - suddenly grinning

“Ayyyyy Malcom! Great to see you!” He managed to get up at the same time as his acquaintance.

“How are you, partying as always?” Malcom asked - no sense of judgement in his voice that Rui usually heard when asked that question. It was a note about the man he appreciated.

“As always” he answered with an almost sheepish grin. “Yourself?”

“Eh, needed to destress” The doctor shrugged.

“You, destress? I’ve never known you to be stressed, Doctor” Rui chuckled.

“We all have our stresses, Amigo” Malcom grinned “Care to dance?”

“As tempting an offer that is, I’ve got a date with a bottle of tequila”

“Not the entire thing, I hope”

“Eh, we’ll see how I feel”

Malcom didn’t seem that impressed, but shrugged “See you around then!”

Rui waved him off and went over to the bar, bemusedly being served a daiquiri as he watched the glowing dance floor. 

But then, from the corner of his eye, he spotted a very, very familiar silhouette.

He froze in his stool, watching with shock as the tall, imposing figure started to gaze about the room.

Rui put his drink down, brow furrowed. Who the hell was Tomas here for?

He tried not to catch the burly skeleton’s eye, and watched as “Tomas” stared intently at the dance floor… more specifically at a particular, blonde haired dancer.

“.... Oh, compadre, what did you get yourself into…?” Rui muttered, taking his eyes away, a vague guilt to his aura.

Malcom didn’t get a lot of time on the dance floor, regretfully. Though Tomas had the decency to wait until the song was over to go out on the dance floor.

“Doctor Kevgil, your presence is required”

Malcom looked up at the man now towering over him, very quickly realizing that this wasn’t a good thing.

“... Que?” his brow furrowed “Where?”

“Private room. It will only take a few minutes”

He stared skeptically for a few moments

“Is this a “please come” or a “Come before I force you”

Tomas shrugged. Quite the answer.

Malcom sighed, and nodded to the taller man, following him off of the dance floor and over to one of the private party rooms - usually rented out for…. rather saucy events. Tomas opened the door for him, and he walked in the mostly dark room - save for some neon glaring from the ceiling, bathing the room in an almost chilled blue.

Sitting on one of the plush couched.. Was Imelda Rivera.

Malcoms brow furrowed slightly “Senora Rivera?”

“Senor Kevgil” She motioned “Please, sit”

He weighed his options… and sat. “How are you this evening?”

“.. I am very well, Senora” he answered “And yourself? This sort of place doesn’t seem your style?”

“Oh, it certainly isn’t, though this particular club has more… prestige than most” She pointed out, taking a glass and sipping “Drink?”

“Oh, no thank you. I rarely drink when I go out dancing” He shook his head

“Hm” she sniffed slightly, putting her drink down “We understand that Miguel called you about a week ago”

Malcom didn’t visibly react to the declaration “That he did. Very early in the morning at that”

“.. And what was it about?”

“I’m afraid I cannot divulge that information unless it is life or death, Senora” the doctor proclaimed “Doctor - patient confidentiality, and all that”

Her expression didn’t change “Hm, well then I will assume the worst and prepare things accordingly”

“The worst?” Malcom narrowed his stare.

“Well, you see, Doctor” She started, staring at her drink in vague disinterest “Our family has much to keep to ourselves. We’re very private, you see. And anything that Miguel told you, cannot be divulged to the public.”

“I had no intention of bringing anything he told me public”

“Let me finish” She snapped at him, something approximating a sneer on her face. Malcom almost wanted to comment about the quote of how “ugly hate makes the face”, but kept it to himself. That sort of joke would not be appreciated.

“Now, I understand that you carry yourself and your practice completely seriously, and with much pride” She sipped her drink “So i will state this plainly for your benefit.”

Malcom squared his shoulders

“Should you attempt anything, we will sue you for malpractice”

She stared him straight in the eyes “... Excuse me?”

“... I said, we are suing you for malpractice. It’s very easy to get a competent lawyer who can come up with a case. All we have to do is imply that your promise of progress was not met. That he has .. how do you say, “regressed”?”

Malcom wished he had a lip to bite. It took everything within him to not react. To keep his head level.

“... Are you threatening me, Senora Rivera?”

“I would never. It is just a warning.” She pushed her liquor away “You have no family, no lover, nothing but your practice. Would be a shame if you lost everything, no?”

“That is quite the warning, Senora” He lifted his head slightly.

“We Riveras never do anything halfway, Doctor”

He took in a breath, and stood “I understand your… concern, Senora” he started “But allow me to give a warning of my own”

He found her glare almost daring.

“If you truly want for Miguel’s happiness, you will have to end up doing things you don’t want to do. Acknowledge things you would rather sweep under the rug” Malcom leveled “One day, it will all some to a head-” he turned “and you will refuse to admit that you saw it coming. Have a good evening, Senora, Buenas Noches”

And he left, returning to the bright lights of the dance floor.

He wasn’t followed.  

[ororowrites]

“42 Reasons: Chadwick x OC: Chapter Two

Author’s note: I apologize for the long wait! Life catches up with us sometimes, I guess. I should be back on track now. Here are the previous chapters in case you need to re-read:

Synopsis - Introduction-Chapter One 

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety 

Two Weeks Later 

Atlanta would be Holly’s home for the next several months. Filming would begin in the next couple of weeks after their table reads and screen tests. She was still in shock and nothing had completely set in for her about her new endeavors. Fans did not know what they were about to receive and Holly was under lock and key when it came to her new job. She wasn’t even allowed to share the news with close friends or family until Marvel officially announced the cast for the Black Panther sequel. 

Holly was glad she at least knew Chadwick and had someone to lean on once they began the filming process. She had met some of the other cast members in passing but did not have a relationship with most of them. 

Her first day in Atlanta consisted of getting settled in her new apartment that Marvel was renting. Attempting to make it feel like home, Holly sent for some of her furniture and items that made her space feel warm and comfortable. While hanging some of her art, her elevator bell rang, signaling a guest. 

“Who is it,” Holly pressed the call button and spoke into the mic. 

“Take a guess,” a voice called back. 

“Hmmm, I don’t know. Denzel , Will...” Holly joked, beaming from ear to ear without even noticing. 

“Even better. Now open up unless you want me to keep all this chicken and waffles to myself,” the voice replied back. Holly could hear his grin through the door and ran to buzz him inside. 

“Chad, you know I don’t play with my food. Come in,” the actress buzzed, waiting for the doors to open before she snatched the greasy bags from Chad’s hands. 

“Knew that would get your greedy behind to the door,” Chadwick chuckled, placing a kiss on Holly’s cheek and helping her sort out their meals. The simple act seemed very natural, though Holly’s breath hitched in her throat when his lips touched her skin. 

“Thank you. You came right on time, I’m starving,” Holly said gracefully moving around the space to find plates and silverware. 

“Lucky you. This will probably be your last unhealthy meal until after the film,” he replied. 

“Says who,” the actress quizzed, cocking her head to the side. 

“Says me,” Chadwick winked. “I can even hook you up with my trainer. He kicks my ass but he’s good. That’s if you want to use him.” 

Holly grinned, “You calling me out of shape, Boseman? I’ve been boxing for the last few months. You need to watch what you say to me.” 

The two friends shared a laugh before Chadwick answered, “No, I’m not saying you’re out of shape. Just offering some fight training. Since we’ll probably by fighting side by side.” 

Holly took the clue right away. “Say you want to spend time with me. Geez,” the actress teased, honestly honored by the generous offer. This was one of the things she adored about Chadwick. He had a big heart and when he truly cared about you, he didn’t hesitate to show it. His warmth and gentle spirit made him even more attractive and made him a people magnet. Anyone that spent time around him commented on his humbleness. 

“That makes it a win-win situation. You get training and time with Chadwick. This offer is only on the table for 24 hours,” he beamed, impatiently waiting on an answer. 

“Yes, I’ll kick you ass, I mean, I’ll train with you. But if I die, you’re responsible. Got it,” Holly threatened, pointing her fork in Chadwick’s direction. 

Her co-star held his hands up in fake surrender, “Alright, deal.” 

“Let me get this last cheat meal in before you torture me,” Holly complained biting into a crispy chicken wing. “I’m going to miss you baby chicken wing. Mr. Boseman is a big meanie and will take away all my meat and put me on this wack diet. I’m sorry.” 

The Black Panther star’s boisterous laughter filled the semi-empty living room, echoing off the walls. “Leave me alone,” he said through cackles. 

Becoming tickled herself, Holly snickered until tears spilled over. 

A week later 

The process of becoming Ororo Munroe was not an easy task to take on for an actress. Ryan Coogler, the sequel’s director was very serious about presenting accurate representation of different African cultures, accents, traditions and even clothing. He traveled the continent soaking up as much knowledge as he could manage. Holly respected his drive and knew she would have to work extra hard to make his vision come to life. 

As soon as Holly got the word that she would be playing Storm, she began her own research journey in an attempt to become well versed on different cultures on the continent. She didn’t want to be ignorant about what she was getting herself into and that served as motivation to study and learn. Wanting to know her own background, Holly ordered a DNA kit to study her lineage. 

Today, the cast was meeting for their last chemistry tests. Ryan did not put up with complacency. He wanted his actors to always better themselves and strive to be more. Holly and Chadwick were up first since they were the leads in the next film. The acting pair began with Ororo and T’Challa’s third scene that took place in a Harlem apartment. 

“Aight, we’ll start on page 3 and go through page 4,” Ryan called out to his actors. They followed orders and turned their scripts to the 3rd page of the second act. “Annnd, action.” 

“Ororo, come back to Wakanda with me,” Chadwick began, getting into characters immediately. 

“I have a life here. I can’t pick up and go,” Holly read, trying a new voice for her character. Ryan didn’t seem to mind the change as he knew the perfect fit for Ororo Munroe would take practice.

“Your life hasn’t always been here,” he continued, moving in closer. “I don’t think you want it to remain here.” 

“What makes you think that,”Holly said, her eyes meeting Chadwick’s as she took on Ororo’s quiet sex appeal. 

Closing the space left between them, Chadwick placed a hand on her cheek. Moving his face closer like the script demanded, “You aren’t happy and you’re running.”

Even though it was just acting, Holly somehow felt the double meaning in Chadwick’s words. This was the exact situation  that got them in trouble while filming ‘42′. Things got too real and it made separating reel from real difficult. When Chadwick became a character his entire being changed. The only problem was, T’Challa and Ororo could be interchangeable with Chadwick and Hoilly, which complicated things. 

“I’m not running from anything,” the actress whispered, feeling the heat from Chadwick’s body engulf her space. Their lips touched as they both juggled their acting and attraction. When their lips connected, Holly tried to stay in character but her mind drifted. His lips felt soft and warm against hers and she couldn’t shake the butterflies forming in her stomach. When he pulled away her lips were still parted. 

“Cut! Nice job, the chemistry is exactly where I need it to be,” Ryan complimented. “But...you have to tone it down a lil.” 

Chadwick and Holly chuckled, “Sorry,” Holly blushed, taking the hint that their onscreen kiss was a little too hot for a Marvel film. “Gotta do it for the kids.” 

“Hey, that was all you,” Chadwick laughed, wrapping an arm around Holly’s shoulders. “Chill out, Raye.”

“Dude, hush.” Going back and forth with each other, the two leads caught the eyes of a few of their cast mates. Their old romance began the same way. Without either of them noticing until things became too heavy to ignore. Cast mates and crew saw the small interactions and felt the chemistry. Some even teasing them occasionally. Now they had come full circle, only to repeat what had began years ago. 

The Black Panther sequel was officially in production and Holly’s nerves couldn’t have bothered her enough. With this being her first gig in years after the scandal on her previous job. 

Holly had to wake up at 2 AM for hair and makeup that would take more than a couple of hours to perfect. Like many trailers, the space was full of makeup products neatly organized against one wall and hair products on the other side. In between there were different variations of wig glues, eyelash glue and a few random items like stress balls and a bag of licorice. It looked like any other makeup trailer on a set but the vibe was different. 

Tiffany and Nadine Landry were a sister duo who had been working in the business for years. They made anyone who sat in their chairs feel like family which was one of the main reasons Ryan and crew wanted to keep them around. Their positive energy and talent to match spread throughout the cast and crew, contributing to the mass success of the first film. 

Holly was greeted by the sisters with a warm embrace and jokes. “We are here to make you the best Ororo Munroe that Marvel has ever seen,” Nadine said, gently pushing Holly towards Tiffany’s chair. 

“Nay, that was shady. Be nice,” Tiffany answered, calling her big sister out on the obvious shade to the previous Storm before the Disney deal was completed. “Don’t mind her Holly, she’s a mess but your face will be beat after you leave her chair.” 

“I trust you two. Besides, you have Ryan and Kevin to answer to if I walk out of here looking like a BAPS reject.” All three women slapped hands in laughter. 

The actress relaxed into the chair as Tiffany massaged her scalp, loosening the thick curls towards the crown of Holly’s head. 

Five hours and many looks later, the team had finally completed the new Ororo Munroe. The original hair and makeup options got trashed once Tiffany and Nadine slightly altered their initial plan for Holly. 

They settled on a straight, mid-back length wig and a neutral makeup palette that didn’t overpower the blue contacts and white wig.  

The big reveal came when Chadwick was brought into the trailer to see his co-star who had completely been transformed into the future Queen of Wakanda. 

When he stepped into the trailer, the actor’s laughter filled the small space as his excitement grew. Clapping his hands, his smile spread from ear to ear. “Look at you,” he exclaimed, gazing in awe. She was beautiful on any day, but there was a certain glow and confidence she was giving off. 

“Do I look good enough to be your Queen, T’Challa,” Holly teased dramatically, flipping her white locs. 

“You may outdo me in my own movie. Ya’ll trying to make me look bad,” Chadwick accused. 

“She makes it easy,” Nadine added, squeezing Holly’s shoulders, “She slays naturally. Sorry Chad.” 

Chadwick’s toothy grin widened. “Clearly.” His eyes fell to Holly, their gazes holding each other longer than they should. Look away, look away, Holly’s mind screamed, but her hormones were already betraying her. Those eyes were captivating and she couldn’t look away until Tiffany and Nadine interrupted. 

“Alright, out you go, Boseman. We need to finish her up before set call,” Tiffany gently pushed the actor towards the trailer door. “You can admire her when we send her out for your first scene.” 

Holly chuckled when Chadwick complained about how he was being treated by the crew. “That man is something else,” the actress shook her head.

“That man is feeling you,” Tiffany sang lowly but loud enough for Holly to hear. Today, she decided to ignore the truth and waited for the subject to change. Here we go, she thought. 

Later that day, when Holly had a small break in her schedule, she was faced with a situation and person she thought she had escaped. One of the old executives from the network she worked under years ago, was making a set visit. Supposedly, he was working for Marvel Studios under the same position. Holly’s stomach immediately dropped to her feet. There was no where to running, forcing the actress to face her fears in panic. Feeling helpless, Holly took off towards her trailer, praying no one saw the tears streaking her cheeks. 

Slamming the trailer door shut, Holly tried to take a few deep breaths. Ben Wiseman was a person she wanted to avoid for the rest of her life. He was responsible for a very dark time in her life and career, driving her to almost end it all to escape the pain. Ben was a Devil in a fancy suit and charming smile. Power and money made him untouchable and people flocked to him because of his title and reputation in the industry. Holly knew the man behind the suit and it put great fear in her heart that he’d been working right under her nose. 

The air in the trailer thickened causing the actress to take shorter breaths, making her panic more due to the heaviness of her chest. Over the last several months, Holly was able to keep her panic attacks to a minimum. After enrolling in yoga/meditation classes, she was able to learn different techniques to manage her stress. Counting to ten in her head Holly attempted to control her breathing and put her mind and spirit in a more positive realm. 

It took Holly 20 minutes to get back into a good place and for her breathing to calm. Going back outside meant risking running into Ben, though there was no way to avoid him. She gave herself a pep talk, prayed and dried her eyes before leaving the trailer. 

“There you are,” Chadwick said, walking up to the trailer with two cups of coffee in his hands. “Figured you’d need a little pick me up before we head back. Hey, you alright?” 

Worry was written all over Holly’s face, though she nodded with a fake smile, “Yeah, I’m good. Fell asleep in my trailer and woke up a bit confused.” 

“You sure, looks like you’ve been crying,” Chadwick pressed, holding the foam cup in her direction. 

“I’m sure, geez,” Holly faked laughter, doing a terrible job of hiding the pain in her voice. 

Chadwick was not buying her act and wasn’t going to allow his friend to go on with her day without getting to the bottom of this. “Raye,” he replied, his tone serious. Holly hung her head in defeat. “You want to go somewhere and talk? We have a few minutes before call.” Holding out his hand, Chadwick waited for Holly to accept it before leading her back to the trailer. 

I will begin working on the next chapter tomorrow, so it won’t be another month until I post again. lol Let me know of you want to be added to the taglist. 

Taglist: @wakanda-shit-is-that @lavitabella87 @destinio1 @airis-paris14 @babygirlofwakanda @siriuslycollins

[noseydewdrop]

I have a ridiculous amount of free time (mostly) at my work, I was thinking about posting this privately but then I wouldn’t be able to access this on my school’s computer. Rough drafts for my blog “ Living in Japan as an Language teacher”

Hidden Video Script Drafts:

3/18/20 - How I landed my dream job pt 1 (animation)

I wasn't always a firm believer of "everything happens for a reason". You wouldn’t be too if you grew up with my family. I recently experienced this in it's true form a while back when I heard the news that my brother was in the hospital. The timing could not have been worse as it was the Friday and night before my mom and my step dad's planned 20th anniversary on a European Caribbean Cruise of a lifetime. I was basically a vampire with my friends’ work schedules; wanting to play games with them everyday until late, and I mean LATE into the night.

On that Friday, I was casually sleeping in at 12 pm when I woke up to the most panicked mother I’ve ever experienced in my life (no joke). She insisted that since my brother is in the hospital and my step dad has decided to stay home (instead of vacation for the next 2 weeks), that I should go with her in my dad's place so she wouldn't be forced to go alone and ultimately cancel the trip they planned what seemed like forever ago.

It was a Friday in mid September and I worked at a successful, and booming American restaurant in the Seattle area. One that so happens to be among the most vibrant in the company and having set numerous company records. We were planning to be busy AF on that Friday. I was pathetic yet hopeful and doomed in the back of my mind, all while calling my boss thinking “how can I get the next 4 weeks off IMMEDIATELY” (Even more fishy that it was directly before a scheduled vacation to Japan that I requested off in April earlier that year)..

Back it up several months when two of my close friends and I planned our FIRST abroad trip ever to Japan. Saying I was an inexperienced traveler was an understatement- I never flew on a plane alone before, let alone out of the country. And miraculously, that 2 week long cruise just so happens to land the NIGHT before our planned vacation, and 6 hours before my next plane in SEATAC with my buddies to Japan. The stars aligned for this to happen, and if it came down to it, I thought “I will quit my job for this opportunity”.

But back to reality. Given the circumstances with my brother, my boss gave me Friday off and I spent the rest of the day frantically thinking of how to tell him (I’m not coming in this weekend, let alone this month. I kept it light to say the least and told him I only needed Friday off) without getting fired. For most people in my situation, I thought “they would quit for this once in a lifetime chance”. A minimum wage job is just another job, and this is not an opportunity that comes around.. EVER. Also I had no rent to pay, no financial concerns besides a student loan payment and a decent amount saved up to cover that payment without working for about a year, I mean wouldn't quit even if I (normally) wanted to. For me it was a different story. I really liked, I mean, loved my job. The people I worked with were basically family and for me quit on the spot would be so uncharacteristic of me, it would honestly be depressing for even me. I also never had a job where I could get along so easy with everyone I worked with. And with me addicted to Pokemon go and it being on 2 poke stops, it honestly didn't even feel like a job, yet more fun and satisfying than anywhere I worked before (hell, back then I KILLED for a job that meant basically playing Pokemon all day). More importantly, the restaurant taught me extremely valuable life skills; how to talk to people and be more friendly and open, instead of being my natural shy introverted self. I thought I found the perfect balance of work, extroversion and motivation to break me out of my, so called “normal” yet introverted way of thinking..

After speaking with my boss' roommate about how break it to him, I called the morning before my flight to Barcelona, telling him in vivid detail this situation I’m in, playing it as a family emergency, so my mom and dad wouldn't have wasted all the money they spent planning this trip (Sorry Riki it had to be like that!).

So I had the next 4 weeks off for my vacation around the world. From my layover in Dublin Ireland, to Barcelona Spain, with my mom on her dream cruise that showcased her favorite speaker, with a handful of the most vibrant and successful crowd of a people; with stops in France, Spain, Italy and UK Gibraltar. This was the peak of my existence (so far) and that deserves an entire story on its own. This is probably where I break this off into two parts

(sorry but as of 6/24, pt 2 is an unedited shitpost of a draft draft)

3/18/20 - How I landed my dream Job pt 2

After returning home from my Japan trip with my friends, I had so many experiences in so many countries, I felt so confident about how surprisingly independent I could be. Fast forward 2 weeks when my mother’s retirement party (in late October; she decided to retire earlier than expected instead of waiting till the end of the year) came suddenly, and was a party I could not miss. The night before, I was out at a bar with one of my best friend’s going away party, and I had a lot, maybe too much to drink. It was difficult but I made it, and in my introverted stupor and exhausted mood, I met dozens of my mother's decade long coworkers while having a few drinks at the private bar the company decided to cater for her.

It as a small, yet packed room of very knowledgeable business people; coworkers of my mom. She for the credit union for 20+ years and was the head of the loans department (and probably one of the most essential parts of the company). I was casually drinking near the bartender, and wound up talking to the nearest person in my area as I awaited the food to be served. He was in a suit and appeared in his late 50's. I learned that he didn't work directly with my mom but they knew each other as he was on the leadership side of the company. Little did I know this small, random conversation would be the spark to changing my entire future and be the pinnacle of my working career and how I landed a job with a instructors visa to teach English in Japan.

Hours passed after our brief meeting and he called me over after the food was served. I was introduced to his wife, and we discussed how their children were in close relations with my HS since their kid's HS was near mine, therefore rivaled each other in sports. We delved into the after HS and college topic and started talking about my college experiences and how I ended up as a Biology major, yet randomly working as a host in a restaurant.

My last year of college I took 1 quarter of Japanese and had an epiphany that I wish I had during freshman year; my future self was dying to study Japanese abroad. I then told them how I applied to a language company I heard of through a professor's English class that I was a TA in for Japanese exchange students from Tokyo University. Sadly the company was really competitive and I may have partied too hard and let my GPA set me apart from the thousands of yearly applicants (not to mention Seattle apparently is a hot spot for this particular company). My mom's coworker and his wife told me how their daughter taught English in Japan for 6 years and she applied to the same company with a 4.0 and still didn't get in.

I guess they hire based off region and Seattle was way more competitive than I thought. They gave me her contact info and I promptly emailed her that night. After a long conversation about her experiences, she recommended me to the company I am currently working for, and now I’m in Japan teaching English. Things were falling into place for me back then, just like stars, pin-holed in the curtain of night. Like the needle of momentum, I received from the European cruise was still in motion, There was nothing in the world I wanted more than achieving that dream.

I feel everything that happened was for this door to open for me, and the stars aligned so perfectly for me. From the timing of the cruise (and circumstances (don't worry my brother was fine)) and landing right before my planned trip with my friends, to my mom retiring early just in the perfect window for this company to hire me. I felt that everything was going my way and nothing could stop me; by just knowing exactly what I wanted.. I realized how much more control I have over my life by simply setting the intention and putting it out there, in the realm of thought. The mind is so much more powerful than I could ever imagine, and by me simply just asking for something with deliberate intention, the universe aligned the planets, or some shit I can’t ever actually comprehend, for it to work out; I’m convinced there's no way this is a coincidence.

I had this happen to me before, but not on this level. Yet I am so grateful for my parents and being exposed to the Law of Attraction at such a young age, and just accept everything and not question the logistics. As a science major I question a lot of things and there is no possible way I could ever doubt this being true after what I experienced. You could say it was luck, but the fact that when I asked for this, it happened almost like magic.

It is truly unreal to me. I feel I have so much more control of my life than I ever would have thought was possible. Now I am on a one way plane to Japan, amidst the Corona Virus outbreak and flight cancellations. Nothing in the world could stop me now. (Also, they closed the boarder a week after I arrived in Japan and as of July, it is still closed indefinitely).

P.S. This was composed on my flight to Japan overwhelmed with emotion. My recent stepmother worked at the airport I departed, so my father had inside info on my flight and planned a surprise send off. Safe to say it was the closest feeling I’ve felt with my dad since my parents were recently divorced. He gave me a key chain of his favorite car he had while I was younger, my current car (black new beetle Volkswagen), and we both silently teared up from all the childhood memories and love we can’t regularly express but have been pressured into this ultimatum of me potentially never returning to the life we we’re both use to. I wont include this in the final, but since this just the beginning, I figured anyone who actually reads this will be one in a million; someday. I have never been so sure, that anyone; anything you want or can ever imagine to have. It’s right at your fingertips, all you have to do is think, and believe it. Life is magic.

[maskydoo-old]

Nightmare Neighbors 1

(I’m writing out scripts for upcoming storytime style youtube videos, and posting what I have here. Note that this is a true story. Feedback is welcome.)

For the first year after we left the Army and got booted into the real world to fend for ourselves, my boyfriend and I didn’t have the luxury of being too picky about where we lived. In a hurry, we rented what we thought was a decent condo, but it’s not like we knew what we were doing.

It was a learning experience. What I learned is that I will never live anywhere with shared walls or communal areas ever again, and I’m sure not renting.

One of several things that put me off was dealing with people. Ugh. People. People just – they just ruin everything. And with condo life, they’re inescapable.

My ideal home now is a mountain cabin, deep in woods somewhere, where I never have to hear anyone or see a human face if I don’t want to.

That’s heaven to me.

How bad do neighbors have to be that I’d literally rather replace them with wild bears?

Being stuck in a 12-month lease in Entitled Parents Village will do that to you. The neighborhood kids, the parents, everyone, they all just sucked to deal with.

I don’t even know why it attracted people like this in the first place. Rent was not cheap, we weren’t near a school, and there was nothing around that should say “child-friendly” to anyone. Only about half the condos had yard, and these “yards,” weren’t much bigger than a small bedroom. Just a tiny fenced area just big enough for a small dog to do their business, and not much else.

There was a somewhat large common greenspace between the condo rows, but it wasn’t fenced, and there was no playground and nothing to do.

No surprise the kids were unbearable, they often are.

And before anyone calls me a child-hater…

Yeah. Kinda.

Being a kid is awesome, being stuck around kids sucks. Just ask any kid. They might object, right up until they’re forced to deal with their own younger siblings.

It’s the parents’ own fault, I know. And I’m using the word “parent” very loosely here, since they never actually did any parenting - verb. They never supervised their kids or taught them to behave. They just shove their kids outside to be everyone else’s problem, because watching TV is more important than actually spending any time at all with the children they chose to force into the world. There is a world of difference between people who actually parent, and people who just breed.

This isn’t simply a matter of kids being kids, it’s parents not being parents.

Letting kids play outside in the common green space would have been one thing, but this was way out of hand. The kid  just ran around in feral packs with absolutely no one watching or controlling them in any way, wreaking havoc and tearing up all in their path. Fighting each other, playing chicken with cars, and destroying anything they could get their hands on, with absolutely no parents even so much as occasionally glancing away from Facebook to stop them, like they just expected kids to raise themselves.

I think I read this book before, it’s called Lord Of The Flies and it is not a how-to manual!

And how does anyone ignore all the racket these meat sirens make?! I’m not talking about normal kids playing noises here either – no, that would have been one thing – No, I mean the screamed at the top if their lungs for no reason all the time just because they could. I don’t even know how they did it – they’re kids – their lungs are only so big!

I can only assume their parents found teaching their kids to have some volume control was just too much effort to bother with, so they send them outside to scream. Because why should parents suffer alone? Misery loves company, right? If hey haven’t had a moment of peace since the condom broke, why should anyone else?

I never understood that saying “screaming blood murder.” It was just such an overused chiche it didn’t mean anything one more. But after this, I got it.

Not long after moving in, I heard blood-curdling screaming so loud and terrible that I rushed outside legitimately expecting to find a child being brutally skinned alive. Why else would a human make such a horrible sound? I don’t know what my plan was, like I was gunna fight some axe murderer or something, when I’m barely bigger than a kid myself.

But I rush out there and what do I find? Some brat, more than old enough to know better, just standing out there, alone, completely unharmed, just screaming his stupid head off, for no doggamn reason at all.

No one was even trying to murder him.

Yet.

This brat seriously had the nerve to stare at me with a look like ‘what’s your problem?’

Oh, I’m sorry. Am I bothering you?!

Kids screaming all the time over nothing was a constant thing. I stopped checking to see if they were OK. No one else was bothering to check either, certainly not their PARENTS.

The plot of a horror movie could seriously unfold right outside everyone’s home, and no one would even glance out their window. They’d all just assume it’s brats being brats, as usual. That’s what happens when you cry wolf.

At least there would be quiet.

It didn’t stop at noise, either. I’ve tripped in holes they dug in the greenspace, chased off brats who were pulling apart my fence boards trying to harass my dog, and I even found them climbing on people’s cars.

That’s not a jungle gym!

Just tell their parents?

These parents don’t care. If they did, they’d recognize that their kids are bored and lonely and need to do something with their energy, so they’d take their kids to the park and -ya know – take an active role in their lives and give them some actual structure, and then this crap wouldn’t even happen in the first place.

But apart from that,

The parents are on my car too! Where do you think the brats get it from?!

I’m heading to work one day. And lucky me, it was one of the few days I actually got to park in my own spot that I pay for without one if these entitled parents taking it - again, and this is what I find:  

Some dude just causally resting his butt on my car while he chats up one of the moms.

Imagine feeling so entitled to just sit on other people’s things. Just rubbing your butt all over their property. I just. I can’t. Clearly these people weren’t properly raised by their own parents either.  

And like, what are you even doing here, dude? Are you trying to pretend that’s your ride? You’re really trying to impress her with this? My car is even older than I am. How shitty is your car if this is your flex?

Me: “Move.”

(unlocks)

(Guy gives dirty looks, lady giggles.)

Oh, sorry dude. Am I bothering you?

Totally ruined what I assume is that dude’s pickup attempt.

Good. There’s enough neglected screaming kids here as it is, no need to add to the cacophony.

When the adults of the area were as bad as the kids. They’d have loud, trashy arguments arguments with each other, leave their trash all over, scream at their dogs rather than ever actually bring them inside when they bark.

Yelling at your dog only makes them bark more! How about actually taking him for a WALK once in a while – your tiny yard is not enough! Take your dog, take your kids, and go to the park and you’ll all be happier and healthier.

Speaking of dogs, there was this one neighbor who would leave their dog, just a little pitbull puppy, chained up outside in the common green. Yeah. In the common green. Even though they had a a yard they could have had the pup in. Admittedly it was tiny, but it’s not like being on the chain gave him any extra space. His line was just long enough for him to wander into my parking space, so I’d have to be careful to avoid running him over. The poor thing would be out there alone, with no water, all day every day no matter the weather. Yeah, they were as bad dog owners as they were parents.

But even that was an improvement on the other neighbor who had the older pitt. He lived in one of the condos without even the tiny yards others had. But he didn’t let that stop him from just opening the door and letting his dog run free when he wanted out. It wasn’t even like his dog was getting out on accident, dude was doing it on purpose. Yeah, really. Forget a leash, this guy couldn’t even be bothered to go outside with his dog. So this big loose, untrained, energetic pitt would tear around, tackling people, taking out everyone’s legs, bothering other dogs, and running off into traffic. Bad parenting here included furkids too.

Pitts are such good dogs! They deserve to be treated better than this! If you’re not going to take care of your dogs, if you’re not going to take care of your kids – DON’T HAVE ANY!

The most baffling thing I saw was the honking dude. It was like 10PM, and I couldn’t sleep because someone just kept honking their damn horn. It wasn’t a car alarm, either. This dude was just honking angrily and laying on the horn.

I assumed he was just someone here to pick up a neighbor, and too lazy and inconsiderate to just knock on a door. Or fing text like EVERYONE. After 10 minutes of this crap, I had enough.

When I got outside to tell him off,  I realized this guy isn’t even stopped in one place. He is slowly, very slowly, driving his car round and round on the road that encircles the condo area.

Amazing. I was expecting to deal with a douche-bag, but this is some extra next-level douchery.

I cut him off and yell

“HEY!”

He stopped his car, and his honking, and stared at me like ‘what’s your problem?’

Oh, am I bothering you?!

“What are you honking for?”

“Cus.”

Seriously?!

“Cut it out or I’m calling the cops!”

He swears at me a bit, but peels out when I pull up my phone. Still had to honk some more on his way out. Douche. I wonder if this is what the random screaming kid evolves into when he collects enough douche exp.

The unit that shared walls with us used to house a couple in it who would keep us awake, and quite concerned, with their loud domestics. But even when they were evicted, that didn’t bring us quiet either. After the landlord spent weeks of his own hard work and who knows how much money repairing the walls that the last family put so many holes in, the next tenants’ kid immediately set to creating brand new ones.

It’s the kind of thing I think of when I remember that I have to struggle to find a place that even allows pets at all, and then pay a pet deposit for my perfect quiet dog who does nothing wrong in her whole life, but there’s literally nothing landlords can do about renting to people with kids.  Also puts me off any thoughts of being a landlord myself.

(tap tap tap tap bang! Rattle)

Me: “WTF is that?”

(tap tap tap tap bang! Rattle)

(tap tap tap tap bang! Rattle)

This kid  next door was running, full speed, to body slam our wall. Then, not learning any lessons from pain, doubling back to charge again.

Me: “Why…?”

I saw this kid outside with the others sometimes, not a parent in sight as usual. He looked like he was maybe 5, but acted more like he was 2. He didn’t seem to be able to speak, just did this gargle scream thing and that was it for communication. I think the poor guy may have had a disability of some kind, but his parents were literally never anywhere to be found to say so.

His assaults on the wall would go on for like half an hour at a time until the kid would wear himself out, or maybe hurt himself enough to finally stop. No adults ever stopped him, I know that. Either his parents were leaving him home alone, or they were home and just ignored him doing this, like they just don’t care if he gets hurt. Either way, they should have never been parents.  

Special needs isn’t just a cutesy euphemism, it means you need to do extra work to raise a kid, not less. His needs are special, he needs more.

More than once I’ve seen this wandering around outside completely naked, and looking lost. No parents trying to wrangle him, no parents looking for him, nothing. I guess they just didn’t care if he got hit by a car or picked up by a creeper.

A number of people called CPS, but I don’t know if anything ever came of it. I felt bad for the kid. He deserves competent parents who actually care about him. I hope he eventually got some, and got the help he needs.  

(tap tap tap tap bang! Rattle)

But sympathy didn’t make me hate living next door any less.

I couldn’t be happier when our year was up and my boyfriend and I bought our house. We made sure to pick a house with space between the neighbors, and avoided any place too near to playgrounds, schools, or daycares. Eventually we settled on place in a nice neighborhood on the north end of town and I thought our neighbor problems were over.

I thought wrong.

The neighbors I just spent this whole video complaining about definitely suck. Crappy-garbage-trash-heaps! But these aren’t THE nightmare neighbors of the title. Oh-no. I haven’t got to them yet.

This is just the prologue. The set up.

Buying a house in a nice neighborhood didn’t solve the problem like I expected. No. It’s about to get worse.

[admesser]

Hello everyone!

To kick off my new series of interviews with authors, artists, and creators, I want to introduce you to Seth Greenwood and Angela Zhang.  I have been following their work for a couple of years now, and find the story intriguing and the artwork incredible.

Seth Greenwood

Angela Zhang

1) Please discuss your creative background. Who are you, and how did you get involved with your art?

SG: I would love to tell you some quirky little story of how I got involved in writing comics. But I am afraid the answer is very simple. I was a dreamer, a poet, and a blogger when I traveled to South Korea to live for a year. One of my co-workers kept telling me about all of these ideas he wanted to make into comics. At that time I was 27 or so and I didn’t know the first thing about comics, and to be honest I had never even read my first comic book. I was always into reading novels and watching films. You might even say that I was disinterested but I believe I finally decided to do it because a friend needed my help and I felt I had the ability to make it happen. Stories are stories, right? So when I said yes, I jumped into research head first. I learned how to write, and format scripts. I started reading many comics from the past and present, and ultimately I started writing my first script for a P.A. piece called “Covenant”.

AZ:  While I didn’t realize it back then, I was making wordless comics on the back of my mom’s PhD thesis drafts since I was 7 years old. When I grew up,  I thought academia and teaching were the only viable career paths for artists. So I ended up going to art school and then completed a master’s in Art History. I realized that reading theory and writing about art really wasn’t my thing. I ended up working in administration full time for a while. It was during this time that I discovered there are people who will pay you to draw if you were good enough. So I kept working on my art on the side. (I spent a whole year waking up at  5AM before work to practice drawing and I am NOT a morning person hahaha!) In 2014, I quit my job to pursue freelance illustration. It’s been hard, to say the least, but no doubt creatively rewarding. So far I’ve done storyboards, concept art, architecture illustration, product design, book covers and of course comics!

2) How did you two meet and collaborate on the Gale Project?

SG: Long story short? “Covenant” never happened. I decided to try my hand at screenwriting since I had such a bad first experience. I realized quickly that even with the best of friends, partnerships can be very difficult to maintain. One night I posted a snippet from one of my screenplays on a blog and tweeted the link. I never expected to get a reaction but that script reeled in one of my favorite artists to this day! Angela Zhang tweeted me and said that she liked my style and to contact her if I ever wanted to do a noir style comic. I didn’t know if this was an empty gesture, but I immediately replied that I knew just the story for us. The rest is history. Angela and I have known each other for a little over 3 years now and we have been moonlighting Gale ever since.

AZ: My big dream has been to make a long-running comic series. But I’m not a writer.  As an adult,  I really got into comics through the works of Craig Thompson (Blankets) and independent creators like Rich Barrett (Nathan Sorry), Lora Innes (The Dreamer) and Jason Brubaker (reMIND). The first comic that I posted online was a realistic, drama that focused on character acting, mood and atmosphere.  I didn’t think anyone else would be into this kind of story until I came across Seth’s writing online. He has a knack for natural dialogue and I can imagine his character’s emotions through their words. I honestly didn’t think anything would come out of our tweets. But it was his persistence and speed that convinced me, yes, this guy wants to make a comic as much as I do.

3) What is the inspiration for Gale?

SG: Oh wow! A lot! The idea of Gale, whether I knew it or not, first started to form in 10th grade when I wrote a free verse poem about a man at his father’s funeral who had obviously been murdered for some mysterious reason. The rest of the story comes from my experience with the world that I grew up in. The things I noticed that were beautiful on the outside were actually rotting on the inside. I started writing about those things you don’t introduce yourself with and immediately start talking about. Politics, civil rights, class consciousness, you name it. It’s all in Gale, in a quasi-dystopian alternate reality. I don’t intend to present my solution to these issues in Gale. In the end, it is a fictional story that will hopefully both entertain and inspire.

AZ: In terms of art, Seth and I met over Skype where he would describe his vision. Gale’s world is a mix of the old and new in American culture. The vehicles and architecture are based on 1940s design and they coexist with our everyday technology, like cell phones and laptops. When we visit Ned Norman’s mansion, there’s a touch of gothic horror. I researched Hollywood movies between the 1930s and 1950s. My library has a collection of classic films. I would rent Hitchcock and Dracula to see how directors in those days composed dramatic shots, knowing that the output would be in black and white.

4) Please describe the visualization process from script to screen. How do you imagine it as a writer, and how do you imagine it as an illustrator?

SG: Would it sound too unreal if a lot of what Angela does is almost exactly how I see it in my head. It’s almost as if she downloaded my brain onto a Wacom Tablet. But the process is much harder than that! It’s why I am the writer and she is the artist. Every once in a while she will suggest something and most of the time it makes it better or translates better to the comic medium. One thing that I had a problem doing at first, was getting out of the habit of writing scenes and getting into the habit of writing still panels. Angela did a wonderful job showing movement and expression.

AZ: I’m grateful that Seth trusts me and gives me a lot of creative freedom to put his words into comic form. We have  over 50 posts on our Patreon blog detailing the process from script to panel (collecting reference, thumbnailing, layout, word bubbles etc.) To be honest, these days I don’t even think about my process, because drawing Gale has become more intuitive for me. I think what lead to this magical understanding between Seth and I is that we’ve built a solid friendship. If you get to know Seth, you will see that he’s truly caring and generous. We chat almost every day. Seth sends me photos, writing and videos related to Gale and we talk about life too. The more that I think about it, our conversations allow me to have a better understanding of where Seth is coming from and deeper insight into the characters and the world of Gale.

5) Talk about the heart of Gale’s storyline. What challenges does it face?

SG: Angela may want to elaborate, but I believe this sums up the storyline.:

Gale is a drama, mystery and suspense story that draws inspiration from film noir. Rookie attorney Gale Norman is determined to seek out the truth behind his father’s mysterious death. As Gale’s suspicions grow, buried memories of his mother’s disappearance resurface and he refuses to hide from his dark past. With the help of his childhood friend, Laurie Gambill, Gale attempts to solve a seemingly ordinary mystery that may eventually lead him in a downward spiral. Will he uncover the truth to his parent’s demise or will he become further entangled in a web of lies?

As far as challenges? Well here recently my life has been unpredictable. Being a full-time soldier in the US Army and trying to write, update social media and maintain a valuable connection with our audience has been hard to say the very least. We have had to try to remain very flexible. I have had to re-dedicate myself over and over again. It’s something that plagues me but at the same time it is something I can’t and won’t leave.

AZ: Making the characters relatable is one of the challenges that Seth and I are always thinking about. At first, I had a hard time describing Gale to people because the story has many layers. Gale also comes from a wealthy upbringing which is pivotal to the story but  I can’t relate to it.  After I completed the scene where Gale kisses his childhood friend Laurie, I started relating to them in a real way. I thought about how the 20s is an interesting period to explore the loss of innocence. Unlike adolescence, the loss is more of intellectual awakening. In Gale’s case, it’s about dealing with death, discovering the truth about his past, getting friend-zoned by the only one he trusts and feeling alone in the world. As the series progresses, Gale gets caught up in more and more unbelievable situations. I think as long as we’re grounding the story in an emotional truth we’ll overcome the challenge of making the characters relatable.

6) What are some difficulties you have experienced with the project and how did you overcome them?

SG: I’m glad you said “some”! Let’s see here. The decision to publish Gale independently was not always considered. We did that when we realized the publisher would really not have much more to offer us and we wanted complete freedom for the project.

Angela had issues with me not being patient and almost jumping the gun a couple of times before we were ready. That is just me. I am a little too ambitious at times. She was always the voice of reason when it came to the business side of things. A lot of times she had to pull my head out of the clouds.

We have had to push back launch dates because of our day jobs and we have had to cancel convention appearances for the same thing. The way we overcome obstacles is to keep pressing on, remain flexible, and continue to create this wonderful story that’s brought so many people together. It’s persistence, more than anything, it is always persistence.

AZ: I think Seth and I have an interesting dynamic that I’ve come to appreciate. In the beginning, we had a bit of friction because we didn’t understand our working styles. I have to think things through from all sides, create a plan and put a process in place to execute. Seth, on the other hand, will act immediately when he gets an idea. I don’t think Gale would have the following it does today without Seth’s fearlessness, tenacity and enthusiasm to try new things. However, self-publishing a comic to our standards of quality has a lot of finer details that require time and planning. What I love about Seth is that he’s open to feedback, he’s always willing to improve and that inspires me to do the same.

On a personal side, I was very slow at drawing Gale pages in the beginning. It would take me a month to finish a page. Seth probably worried at some point whether I was cut out for this job and he’s been really flexible and patient with the project. Some people told me I should simplify my art for comics. But I pushed myself to keep going in the style I have for Gale and I reinvented my process along the way. I’ve learned that just because you have an ounce of talent, it doesn’t entitle you to anything except hard work. Now I can produce 3-4 pages a month alongside my full-time work.

7) Please discuss your creative process. Do you follow a schedule? Set deadlines? How do you get the creative juices flowing for your project?

SG: I am chaotic! Ask my wife. Despite my military experience, I can be somewhat all over the place. The reason why Angela is much more than the artist and she carries the title co-creator is because she keeps me on point. She keeps us on schedule. I write when I am inspired, I send notes to Angela and forget to save them in the shared file so she does it for me. If it was not for her I wouldn’t have come this far. No other artist would have taught me how to maintain good order in this line of work.  As for creative juices? I read books, watch some character driven NETFLIX shows, and study people and cultures. I love Sociology, Anthropology, and Psychology. One thing that is most important in this process, however,  is reading. To be a great writer, you have to be a reader first!

AZ: I actually have a militaristic approach when it comes to creativity. If you’ve ever read The War of Art by Steven Pressfield, you’ll get where I’m coming from. In the past, I’ve struggled with time management and it has a lot to do with fear and procrastination. I now manage and track my creative time through a pomodoro app. It’s basically an interval timer that alternates between a work and break period. When that whistle sounds for the work interval I’m not checking email or rummaging through social media. The app allows you to export an excel spreadsheet so you can see how long you spent on a task or project. I base my schedule and deadlines around the data and strive to be more efficient over time.

On the other end of the spectrum, I think it’s important for artists to recharge their creative juices to prevent burnout.  Although I’m rigid and structured during projects, I’m the complete opposite when it comes to downtime. I like going for aimless walks, cooking, watching movies, reading manga, and comics and playing video games with my fiancé (who by the way has been super supportive of Gale).

8) What is in store for Gale? When will it be released?

SG: I don’t want to steal Angela’s thunder. Most of this is her brilliance. I will let you take the reigns for this, co-creator!

AZ: As Seth mentioned, we’re going the self-publishing route and playing the long game of making a series one page at a time. Instead of releasing Gale when it’s all done, we’re inviting people to follow our journey of making comics by sharing the process, what we’ve learned through trial and error and how we’re constantly striving to improve. I think that’s more fulfilling for us creators to relate to readers every step of the way then just popping up one day and saying ‘hey here’s  our product, buy it.’

Last fall we completed Chapter 1: The Calm and launched it on Webtoon and we’re also currently posting it panel by panel on Instagram. We’re halfway through Chapter 2: Storm Chaser and aiming to finish it by the end of this year. Next year, we’re going to explore Kickstarter as well as comic book conventions.

9) Do you have anything you would like to add to the article?

AZ:  I want to thank anyone who took the time to read our interview. Although we’re small and at the beginning of our journey, I’m super grateful and touched by all the support that Gale has received.  I also want to give huge thanks to the Savannah Quill for having us and putting all of this together. I deeply appreciate this opportunity to share our thoughts and  process

SG: Same as Angela, thanks! Also, look out for Gale on Webtoon and make sure you stay tuned for a short we have contributed to Red Stylo Media’s newest upcoming anthology; a collaboration of artists and writers paying tribute to the band, Forence + The Machine entitled “Cosmic Love”. The Kickstarter for the main print run will launch sometime this Fall. Just look for the announcement on IG “Stories” or on Twitter!

www.thegalecomic.com

IG: www.instagram.com/thegalecomic/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/thegalecomic

Webtoon: http://tiny.cc/mnwrxy

Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/galecomic

©2019 Adam Messer. All Rights Reserved.

Inside the minds of The Gale Comic creator and artist. #indie #author #comicbook #artist #adammesser #sethgreenwood #angelazhang #thegalecomic www.adammesser.net Hello everyone! To kick off my new series of interviews with authors, artists, and creators, I want to introduce you to Seth Greenwood and Angela Zhang. 

[kristie-rp]

[2016] Five Times Olivia Was A Full-Time Employee (and the One Time She Actually Got Time Off)

Prompt: Coffeeshop AU, modern AU, alternate first meeting AU. Olivia is generally unlucky right now and is just frustrated by foreign people in general.

-1-

Olivia doesn’t follow dancing.

She doesn’t follow anything, really. She doesn’t have the time. The blonde young woman has been on her own since her brother was murdered, and rent is not cheap in the city, even after a decent payout. Her family comes from money, but technically Simon was the heir, not her, so she doesn’t really have a right to any inheritance until the lawyers finish arguing. So for now, it’s commissions, regretting going to college to learn more about photography (because of course the murder happened just before the start of her last semester, so by then it’s “well there’s no point in not finishing this” and she doesn’t stop to think that debt sucks because when she makes up her mind about something, she pointedly ignores the negatives), full-time at Starbucks, walking the dog, and collapsing into bed every night too tired to resent her life.

Maybe she should consider moving out of their penthouse, but Simon picked it based on one of his careful lists of everything the siblings had wanted at the time. There’s a pool and a gym on site, the apartment has a view to die for, two bedrooms, and she’s allowed to keep Bopeep, her  Lhasa Apso-Shih Tzu cross dog. That’s another thing she should consider getting rid of, because paying the neighbour to check her food when she gets home is pricey, too, but Bopeep is all the family she has left at this point. Getting rid of her would be a betrayal. Hence, Starbucks.

She’s making faces at the toddler that ‘Jen’ always brings in with her, despite the woman obviously being distracted (she’s on the phone, again, speaking quickly into her Bluetooth headset in the business lingo that Olivia half-understands because college and Simon were extremely insistent), by the time the lunch time rush starts.

And then the jerk at the front of the line, with six people behind him already, tells her to write Alexander on the cup in a French accent. She only recognises the accent because her family are from Paris.

He’s carrying a gym bag and she’s pretty sure he’s wearing a leotard with a denim jacket over the top. He’s actually more polite than most people are when they order anything at Starbucks, says “please” and “thank you” in a strong French accent that she only recognises because her family are from Paris, and even smiles immediately before going back to glancing at what she thinks is a phone. She writes Alex on the cup in large black letters, because clearly he thinks he has better things to do, and she’d like to have him know that she does, too.

Predictably, he doesn’t even notice when he takes the order.

-2-

The next time he comes in is two days later. This time, she’s scowling down at the paperwork she has to get done. Technically she’s not meant to be doing this at work at all, but she doesn’t have time after work. She has to take Bopeep for a jog and she’s hoping she can time it around the post-work rush from the public transport around the place.

“Good afternoon.”

“And you, sir,” she says automatically, dropping the pen. “What can I get you today?”

“Grande Iced Raspberry Latte. For Alexander.”

She’s even more convinced that the guy is an asshole now that she recognises him. Who else insists that their name is Alexander in the twenty-first century, immediately before ordering from the bloody secret menu. Olivia, in case it isn’t obvious, resents the secret menu.It doesn’t exist. It’s presumptuous and not actually a secret, just a case of ‘guess the combination they mean’ that hopefully doesn’t end with yelling. Even Jen doesn’t order any bullshit ‘secret menus’, just a standard tall breakfast blend. “And how do I make that, sir?”

“Just an iced latte with two pumps of raspberry syrup,” he explains, even offering a smile. “And call me Alexander – this is the best coffee place near Madame Croix’s Studio, and I’m afraid you’ll be seeing a lot of me.”

“Do you want me to memorise your favourite drink, too, sir Alexander?” she retorts, ever sarcastic. To her surprise, he actually laughs. She tells herself she isn’t blushing as she turns to the machine to make his drink.

“Just Alexander.”

So she writes ‘Aliks’ on the cup and gives him the blandest smile she can manage. “Most people around here just call it ‘the studio’, sir Alexander.” She stops herself from adding that advertising his apparent talent will make him no friends.

-3-

“How are you living on this income?”

“Oh, yes, because you make it so well, Deon.” He’s a half-Kenyan man who came from some backwater town, chasing a dream and a doctorate. Unlike Olivia, he hasn’t made the mistake of a photography degree. “Is this your way of telling me my shift’s over?”

“Nice try. Break’s done. You’re on service.”

“I’m always on service,” she points out, because it’s true. She’s glad, anyway, because unlike some of the other casuals, Deon finishes dealing with a rush before coming to get his replacement. “Good luck on your paper on – was it particle physics?”

“Greek history,” he corrects, tossing her the requisite apron and leaving her to the hell that is Starbucks and a solo shift.

She’s just fixing the nametag onto the apron when the new regular comes in with a greeting and an “I take it your name isn’t really ‘not the short one’?”

Today he’s ditched the leotard and the denim jacket for sweats and a hoodie, probably because it’s raining outside. “What gave it away, the fact that there are three other people in this room that are taller than me?”

His smile falters a little, as though it’s uncertain now. She’s probably too pleased that he had an effect on the usually unflappably cheerful regular. “Ah, common sense, actually, I’m sorry to say. I’m not that observant.”

She snorts. “My name is Olivia, if you must know. Another raspberry latte for you?”

“You remembered me. Consider me impressed, Miss Olivia.”

“Ah, my purpose for the day, completed to the best of my ability.” In response to the confused smile, she shook her head, amusement replaced by the now familiar irritation. “Same as last Friday, Sir Alexander?”

“No. Venti Chocolate Macchiato, I wrote down the recipe for you, here –” he passes her a note written in a gorgeous script she can really appreciate, having an eye for detail. She suppresses any desire to compliment it because holy shit this is an irritatingly complicated coffee...thing.

It takes a few minutes, with a couple other customers showing up before she’s done. She gives him the cup with yet another bland smile. “You forgot to write down how many shots of espresso.”

“Just the one should be alright,” he says, making up for her blandness with his own smile. As he leaves, gym bag in hand, she allows herself a smirk before turning to the next person in line.

His cup says Allix.

-4-

Three weeks later and she’s making yet another ridiculous drink, ordered by Sir Alexander himself, when her phone rings. She knows it’s important because the ringtone is set to a punk song that no one would ever play in a Starbucks, and the only other calls set to make noise are the ones from the lawyer. “Excuse me,” she says quickly, “enjoy your, ah, white chocolate cinnamon chai latte. Liv, what’s going on?”

Liv is a high school teacher who works locally, living across the hall from Olivia and, formerly Simon. After finishing school and taking up the job, Olivia asked Liv (who, in a strange twist of face, used to babysit Simon’s former fiancée. Small world) to keep an eye on Bopeep. If she’s calling, it means nothing good. “Bopeep is sick.”

For a second, Olivia is relieved; sick means alive and not gone. But then her mind catches up with what is going on, and she chokes her heart out of her throat, turning away from the counter and Alexander, just standing there and fiddling with what he’s worked out is an iPod he never has plugged in, pretending not to be listening. “She’s what? How bad?”

“Hasn’t eaten any of her food, coughing, she had this weird – growth, I suppose, on her stomach. I brought her into the vet and she’s got this thing called ‘distemper’ apparently. She said we got it early but there’s always a chance that things could go sour.”

Olivia’s got both hands cupped around her phone. “But, but, I had ‘Peep vaccinated for that, when I first brought her home, last February, she – she should be alright. She shouldn’t even have this illness.”

“Vaccine’s aren’t a guaranteed preventer, Olive. Now – I can sign everything on your behalf if you can’t get away...”

She wants to say no, that she can do it herself, but she wants the best for Bopeep. And the fact is, she can’t afford it and she can’t leave work – so she has to swallow her pride, especially with another customer waiting impatiently. God, she hopes the lawyers sort out their shit soon. “I’ll pay you back, Liv.”

“You –” Liv pauses; Olivia can hear it. She wonders if the teacher was about to tell her that she didn’t need to worry about paying her back, as though her pride could take the insult. “Alright, it’s a deal. Vet’s calling me for everything. I’ll call you when I know more,” the woman promises, before hanging up.

When she’s finished making up some boring latte and food for the customer and the half-dozen that follow in the post-work rush, Olivia finally has a moment to pause and try to collect herself. And even though it’s at least half an hour later and Alexander has a habit of immediately leaving, he’s still standing on one side of the counter. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asks after watching her, the epitome of cautious wording.

Olivia shakes her head, but then she finds herself coming around the counter and speaking up anyway. A couple of inconsiderate gits have left their rubbish on their abandoned tables, and it’s on her to clean them up. “That was my neighbour, calling to say my dog might be really sick.”

He’s silent for so long that Olivia thinks maybe he’s gone, but then she feels someone take her hand and gently start rubbing it, tracing a delicate pattern onto her hand. “Tell me about the dog,” he says, in such a soft voice she almost thinks she imagined it.

“I don’t have time,” she protests weakly.

“You can take five minutes,” he corrects. He’s not wrong.

So she tells him about how her dog was a ‘weird breed’. About Bopeep being a shih tzu crossed with lhasa apso, but with sort of russet fur with white and darker brown markings. About Bopeep being hyper and cuddly, friendly and well-behaved, fun and entertaining. About being excellent company when the world is against you, but without sounding quite so self-obsessed. By the end of it, she’s got tears in her eyes and mumbles something about needing a napkin, only to have an unfamiliar, gentle hand press a handkerchief to her eyes, carefully cleaning her up. It’s Alexander, of course, he’s stopped tracing patterns on her hand by now.

“I’ll get in trouble for not doing enough work today,” she mutters, mournful. He smiles, tells her Bopeep sounds fantastic, and that everything will be okay, before ordering another coffee, this one definitely to go.

“I won’t interrupt your shift any more, Miss Olivia,” he promises. “Not today, at least.”

She writes Alexander on the cup.

-5-

“She’s perfect again!” she exclaims delightedly, whipping out her little camera to view the video of her dog excitedly bounding towards her. She’s showing Connor and Deon both, each of them her co-workers on Sunday. Sometimes there’s Lisa, too, but not today. She called in sick last minute, so Olivia took on her shift after the manager promises she’ll call in someone else to take the afternoon shift. She’s pretty sure the only person left who takes weekend shifts is Connor’s boyfriend, Tobian, so this ought to be a productive day (she’s also pleased

“You don’t typically work Sundays,” a familiar accent points out. She actually laughs, possibly for the first time ever, as she turns to greet Alexander. He’s less irritating now, though she isn’t sure if this is because he actually was never annoying and she’s just now noticing, or if it’s an acquired taste. “It is nice to see you, though.”

“I know it is,” she retorts immediately, holding the phone out. He goes cross-eyed trying to see it right in front of his nose, before angling his head to get a better look. “Look!”

“Ah, so Miss Bopeep is well again?”

“Yes,” she immediately answers, almost cutting him off. “Thank you for not, you know, running away screaming when I, uh.” She’s too embarrassed to say broke down, but really, what other phrase is there for what happened?

He smiles, waves it off. “You spelled my name right afterwards, so in a way, it was purely self-serving, if you think about it. There’s no need for you to thank me for that. That’s an good video, by the way.”

“It’s side work,” she explains, “I do photography on commission and record things. Same as Friday, or is this changeover day?”

He shifts, as if considering. “Surprise me.”

She blinks at him in surprise, before shrugging and ringing up her own preferred order, throwing in a brownie that she’ll pay for out of the tip jar for good measure. A couple of minutes later, she places a venti cup on the counter and smiles at him, Alexander J written on the side. “Steamed milk, 4 pumps caramel, 4 pumps toffee nut, 4 pumps cinnamon dolce, topped with whipped cream and salted caramel. Try it.”

She’s delighted to see that he immediately does so, smiling at her after a moment. “I apologize if I’m being paranoid, but why are you looking at me like this is an experiment?”

“No, I’m just surprised that you actually tried it. Usually once someone hear there’s so much flavouring in this thing, they hide rather than actually try it. Anyway. Hot Butterbeer Latte, and it’s done best here because no one else knows the recipe like I do.”

He shakes his head, glances at the clock on the wall and straightens up. “Thank you, Miss Olivia. I have to get going, though, I’m afraid I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

She smiles at him. “See you later, Sir Alexander.”

-+1-

A mix up with the schedule means Olivia ends up finishing work a couple of hours early, just after the post-school rush, largely because Lisa wants to train her brother so he can get his own job with some skills more useful than high school math. And maybe Olivia’s a little worried that Lisa seems to be limping, but she doesn’t mention it so Olivia makes the decision not to, either, and heads home instead.

“C’mon, Bopeep,” she coos after she greets Liv and does some cleaning. For once, she doesn’t get home completely exhausted, so it’s no stretch for her to call the dog, lead in hand. She usually jogs the dog, but this is the first time in a long time that she’s actually had the energy to be upbeat about it. Because the sun is still up for once, she grabs her better camera and resolves to take some photographs. A few minutes is all it takes for her to get Bopeep and head downstairs.

A couple hours later and a light drizzle has descended on the evening. She thinks nothing of it, even picking up ‘Peep and heading into the Starbucks she works at to grab a hot drink before heading home. To her surprise, the place is actually quite crowded for this hour, full of people dressed to the nines. There’s even a table of people that must be from the studio. “What, is 42 shut?” she asks Lisa, who’s nestled behind the counter with her brother, Reece.

“Yes, and the studio just finished the first of a new show, so this is just where everyone decided to go, I guess.” Lisa is a tiny little blonde woman who always manages to sound nervous. She’s half-way through a journalism degree, and although she works casual only, her and Olivia started at the same time. She reaches over the counter to scratch Bopeep behind the ears, smiling the tiniest amount. “I’ll just make your drink. Give me a minute, Olivia.”

Olivia hums in agreement, adjusting her grip on the dog and turning away from the counter. Bopeep makes a noise of protest when she walks into someone, squishing the poor thing unintentionally. “I’ve heard of magnetic attraction, but since I’m not loaded up with metal, that one was on you,” she starts, trailing off after a moment.

There was Alexander, blinking at her. She was lucky his cup was empty, as it was; he’d been going to get another drink for himself and his companions. All of whom are visible behind him, staring at her with various degrees of confusion. One of them actually hides their mouth behind their hand and leans over to whisper, “Wow, rude.”

Olivia worked in a Starbucks. She knows how to hear people over the top of the racket made by others. She’s distracted from glaring at the brunette by Alexander clearing his throat. “You aren’t – you’re not wearing your nametag.”

It takes a minute for Olivia to register that one of the guys at the table behind him had said oh my god, that’s the barista chick, before she looks down at her clothes. True to his word, she’s currently wearing thermal tights, and a vest over her baseball tee. “I’m, ah, not working tonight. Finished early.”

He finally seems to notice the dog. “So this is Miss Bopeep?”

Olivia nods mutely, tilting her arms so that the dog can be more easily petted by him.

“She likes me.”

She laughs. “She likes everyone. She’s a friendly one, after all, that’s half the reason I got her.”

“What’s the other reason?”

“Uh, she’s adorable. Obviously.”

He laughs at that, follows her over to the counter when Lisa calls her order. She takes one look at him and groans; Olivia makes him hold Bopeep while she moves around the counter to make his ridiculously complicated drink. “It’s Monday, so that’s a new drink for you, isn’t it?”

“I was thinking – the thing you made for me yesterday?”

“One Hot Butterbeer Latte, coming up,” she chimes, getting right on it. Of course, Lisa could have pulled it off – even Reece could have – but she’s happy to help out and join him when she’s done. “Who’re your friends?”

“Coworkers. We were at the studio late.”

“That would explain the leotards,” she chided.

“Most of us aren’t wearing leotards right this second,” he corrects immediately before shrugging, absently adjusting his grip on Bopeep. “We had a recital tonight. Just finished.”

Olivia, despite him coming in all the time, still doesn’t follow dance. “A what now?”

“A recital. We’re performing La Sylphide this week...?”

“La Sylphide,” she echoes. She doesn’t know what The Sylph is, figures it’s a dance of some kind. “Is it good?”

The look he gives her suggests she’s just asked one of the dumbest questions he’s ever heard. As she passes over his drink, it’s clear she doesn’t care. “You should come see it. I have tickets that I never give to anyone, and I think you’ll enjoy it. We can get dinner afterwards.”

She blinks. “Why, Sir Alexander, it almost sounds as though you’re asking me on a date.”

“Well – when you say it like that... yes. Yes, I am. Miss Olivia, would you do me the honour of going out with me tomorrow night?”

She smiles at him, takes her dog back. “Yes, Alexander, I absolutely will.”

-bonus-

Olivia is coming off her break just in time to let Reece take his own before the post-work rush. She’s on the phone. “Merci bocoup, Monsieur Merrigold. C'est si bon d'entendre que tout va bientôt se terminer.”

“C’est atroce de t’avoir tenu si longtemps, madamemoiselle Renner. Je vous assure, nous obtiendrons le meiilleur résultat possible pour vous.”

“Je le sais, Monsieur. Je dois partir, je suis désolé. Je peux vous appeler plus tard?”

“S'il vous plaît.Je vais vous envoyer un message si quelque chose d’important se produit.”

“Merci. Au revoir,” she finishes, hanging up quickly. “Same as yesterday?” she asks Alexander, now her boyfriend of two months. He frowns at her.

“That was perfect French.”

“Oui. That’s what happens when you’re born in Paris and raised in France for ten years,” she points out.

He blinks blankly at her, before throwing his hands up in exasperated surprise, crying out loudly enough that Jen, in the corner with her toddler, drops her phone: “Pourquoi ne m'avez-vous pas dit que vous étiez français? J'ai été aux prises avec l'anglais pendant des mois pour vous!”

Olivia’s response is, of course, to laugh. “Oh, you poor dear, I’m sure that must have been awful for you.”