#the entire time they filmed it meant nothing ever happened to make the tension & chemistry go away

[raisedbythetv89]

in an alternate universe somewhere kristen bell saves jason dohring from scientology and in return he saves her from ever marrying dax shepherd bc the two of them get together instead.

[mae-gi-writes]

Behind The Crown (Part Two) | Kevin Moon Imagine (The Boyz)

Prince Kevin Moon x Second-In-Command Reader. A Royal Kingdom AU.

Genre: fluff, royal kingdom au, angst

Words: 3K

Part One | Part Two

-------

The sun is shining a little too bright the next day as Kevin peels his eyelids open. For a minute, he allows himself to mull over the peaceful chirping of birds outside, the gentle lull of waves in the distance crashing against the cliff's edge. 

And then, last night rushes back to him like a tidal wave.

He'd held her and kissed her, kissed her till she was nothing but a gasping mess against his lips, until her legs had melted into jelly and his hands had found a way around her waist to hold her up and pressed against his torso. 

"Kevin," she had breathed, and that had only incited him to dip his head down and kiss her once more, addicted to the taste of her. She was pure art that he held against himself and Kevin was certain there was nothing more that he wanted if she was in his arms like this forever. 

"Wait--" she'd turned her head then, causing his mouth to kiss her jaw instead, "this--this isn't right. We shouldn't--" 

"Shouldn't what?" He murmured breathlessly as his lips trailed up her cheekbone, "I'm prince of Meridia, I can do whatever I want." 

Hands on his chest, she pushed him slightly so that she could look into his eyes, and that had only caused him to gaze down in naked adoration. Desire swam in the pits of his stomach, rushed through his veins like a drug that left him light-headed.  

"Don't," her voice was rough, "don't look at me like that."

Kevin gazed at her. His lips tilted up in the tiniest of smiles.

"Run away with me," he answered.

"What?" She pulled away from him, "how is that going to solve anything?" 

"I've listened to my parents all my life, carried out my duties without protest, and I'm so sick and tired of people telling me what to do," he said as his tone hardened slightly, emotion clogging up the back of his throat, "this is my life, I want to be happy with someone I love, someone I care about."

He had always been so open with Y/N, vulnerable enough to let her into his deepest fears and allowed her to treat his wounds like an injured animal. But this, this felt different. A good kind of different. The chemistry buzzing between their bodies was something he couldn't deny, and when he searched her face for any indication, he found the answer he was looking for. 

"What about your parents?" She asked softly, "what about everything that you'd been working so hard for?" 

He hesitated slightly before responding, "I...I don't know." 

They had parted ways without a full conclusion to their discussion, but not without the prince tugging her over once more to kiss her goodnight until she had blushed straight to her toes, a spluttering mess against him as he watched her stumble her way back to her chambers.

Kevin lets out a dreamy sigh at the thought. He knows what he has to do. He also knows that the end result isn't going to be pretty. His parents have so much faith in his leadership, have trained him and built him to be the next king ruling over the land of Meridia. But what good does leadership bring, if he can’t lead with the one he wants at his side? 

“Kevin?” The queen gives him a quizzical look as she peers out of the royal chambers, having heard his knock, “what are you doing up so bright and early?” 

“I need to talk to you,” he says, and there must be something in his tone that makes her features grow concerned, before she pulls the door open a little wider for him to step through.

Inside, the King is busy having breakfast in bed, face lighting up instantly at his son’s appearance, “Kevin! What a wonderful surprise! You’re usually up by noon, at the very least.” 

“Father,” the prince bows, a sign of respect and courtesy, with a hand crossed over his heart. He straightens up and continues, “there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.” 

“Good timing, because there’s something I’d like to give you.” 

Now is really not the time to be bearing gifts, is what Kevin’s mind is urging him to say. But he finds that the words die halfway up his throat when his father pulls out a black box tied with a royal blue bow, the color of Meridia’s flag itself, from his cupboard. 

“That’s all yours,” the King extends it out to him, and he has no choice but to take it despite the multitudes of protests screaming through his subconscious. 

“What--” Kevin swallows thickly, “what is it?” 

The box feels heavy and warm in his arms, a little too warm. Or maybe it’s just him, the uncomfortable prickle at the back of his neck urging him to tell the truth. 

“It’s a wedding gift,” the King motions towards the said box, “open it. Go on.” 

Wordlessly, the prince slides the bow off before gently peeling back the top cover. A gasp slips out of his mouth when he comes face to face with the crown-- or more precisely, the King’s crown. 

His head shoots back up, eyes wide with alarm, “you--I can’t--I can’t take that.” “Sure you can,” the King says jovially, “you’re going to be King of Meridia soon. People will look up to you, respect you for that.” 

“But--Father--” Kevin takes a deep breath, “there’s something I want to tell you--” 

“And everyone has been waiting for this moment. Just wait till they see you! They’re going to be so amazed--” “But father I--” 

“I can already imagine your crowning. It’s going to be a beautiful spectacle. People from all over the country are coming to see you--” 

“Darling, dear,” the Queen’s voice suddenly cut halfway through her husband’s speech to halt his ramblings. She gazed at Kevin, prompting him to speak up with a soft open smile on her face. 

And that smile breaks Kevin’s heart, for he knows that once the words were said, it would change their world -- their relationship -- forever. Would rock that safe harbour and turn it into a storm. 

So Kevin only dips his head down and bit his lip. His eyes flickered up to his parents, saw them waiting with mirroring grins, and only let out a shaky exhale. 

“It’s nothing,” he mumbles out and averts his gaze instead, “nothing at all.” 

---------------

The moment Kevin opens the door to let her in, Y/N knows that something is off.

“What?” she asks the moment she steps foot into his bedroom. If he thinks that she doesn’t notice the way his shoulders bunch up or the fact that he’s wound so tight she can practically see all the tension holding his body together, then he’s a bigger idiot that she thinks him to be. 

Her fingers are still thrumming with the aftermath of yesterday’s events. But she shakes her head, attempting to dissuade her thoughts from straying in places where they are not meant to go. 

“Kevin,” she says after a long bout of silence, not really enjoying the fact that 1) he hasn’t looked at her once since she got here and 2) he hasn’t said anything when usually, Kevin can’t shut himself up. When she speaks up next, there is a tinge of concern breaking through her soprano, “what is it? What’s wrong?” 

A pause. Then, he turns around like a culprit, eyes cast onto the ground as though he’s done something shameful, something worth being punished for. 

Air catches in the back of her throat, “tell me.” 

“I--” biting down onto his lower lip and shaking his head, he bristles, “I--I’m sorry.” 

Y/N frowns. Sorry? For what? For kissing her yesterday? For declaring the fact that maybe there’s something more than friendship between them? For having made a mistake he now regrets? 

“Look, I tried talking to my father about--” he gestures between himself and her, “about us, about what happened. And how I feel.” 

Y/N stays quiet. Her stomach clenches. 

“I can’t--” Kevin’s alto his shaky, practically trembling with emotion while he shakes his head, “I can’t tell them, Y/N. It--It would break their heart.” 

She’s expecting it. So she doesn’t know why it feels like someone has just gutted her, grabbed her by the insides and pulled out the entire contents of her stomach to leave her hanging and filled with a hole. 

Swallowing thickly and allowing the words to digest, Y/N just nods.

“Please,” Kevin murmurs roughly, “please say something.” 

What does he want her to say exactly? It’s not like she has any choice in the matter. She opens her mouth, closes it when there’s nothing she finds worth saying. Taking a deep, shaky breath and forcing her expression to be wiped blank, she finally murmurs out: 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, your highness.” 

“Y/N, please don’t do this--” 

But she’s already swivelling around and walking out of his room before her legs give out and before her heart cracks in two, feeling like a dead weight she’s carrying lodged inside her chest. She can still hear Kevin’s protests behind her, shouting at her to come back, but it’s not until she hears his running footsteps on the marble floor that she takes off into a sprint, running blindly and as far away as possible as he can possibly be, until she stumbles out through the stables and keels over to catch her breath. 

Tears brim through her eyes like a film blurring the ground before her, and as a soft sob falls from her lips, her head bows in a desperate attempt to regain some of her sanity. She hadn’t known this would be so hard, hadn’t known that there is such pain gripping her heart with icy fingertips before practically wrenching it out of her chest. It leaves her bare, it leaves her vulnerable, and she can’t help but curl her arms over her middle, a pathetic move of self-defense as her knees fall to the ground. 

It hurts. The tears fall silently, a steady trail cascading down her cheeks. It hurts like she’s never ever been hurt before. She loves him, always did. And yesterday night had proved that he’d returned her feelings.

And now? Now it’s even worse, because she knows there’s something great that she’s lost. 

But she should’ve seen this coming. It’s her fault, after all, for believing that maybe her ending would’ve been bathed in happiness. She guesses that it is the price to pay for having fallen in love with a prince, of all people. 

She doesn’t know how much time passes until she can finally lift herself to her feet. Taking another shaky breath and allowing her chest to rattle with the aftermath of the pain, she swivels around and strides back into the castle.

--------------

“Has anyone seen Y/N?” 

The King looks up from his daily scroll of news transcribed by his attendants, a list of duties to be completed folded in his lap, and catches sight of Kevin striding into the hallway reeking with agitation. 

“Don’t think I saw her around,” the King glances up at his attendant, who only shrugs in response, “maybe she’s training. She usually is whenever she’s off duty.” 

“She wasn’t present at all yesterday, she should’ve been around,” Kevin all but stomps his foot. He feels like a child who hasn’t gotten what he’s wanted, but he doesn’t care. Not right now. The only thing he wants to do is try to talk it out with Y/N. His heart is messy enough as it is, torn between his parents’ expectations and the girl whom he cares for deeply. It doesn’t help matters that he hasn’t been able to see nor hide or hair of Y/N from her escapade yesterday morning. 

“Your highness!” 

Kevin’s head quickly whips back to see one of the soldiers running in with a paper in hand. He hands it over, breathless, as the prince’s eyes scan over its contents. 

“What?” his jaw falls slack in surprise. He turns to the soldier, who automatically bows, “where did you get this?” 

This isn’t happening, his mind chants, no no no, she promised, she promised--

“She gave it to me herself, your highness,” the soldier stuttered with averted eyes, “said that she didn’t want to work for the Kingdom of Meridia anymore, then handed me her resignation--” 

“You’re lying!” Kevin blurts out in a yell, heart skipping in panic. 

“I--I swear I’m not. She--She even signed it.” 

Indeed, as the prince scans to the bottom, he notices her initials. Anger blossoms through his stomach and without hesitation, he crumples the paper into a ball and throws it to the ground, “where is she?!” he hollered, “I want her brought here, this instant! Now!” 

“B--But your majesty, she’s gone back. It’s too late now, she’s already heading to--” 

But Kevin isn’t listening, already walking away with rapid footsteps and all too wrapped up in his own world of desperate pain that he almost misses his father’s words booming from behind him, “Kevin! Where are you going?!” 

That causes him to halt by the doorway, one hand on the smooth Victorian column. He glances back through his curly bangs, sets his gaze upon his father’s for a full minute. 

And proceeds to dash out before anyone can stop him. 

-----------

“It’s so nice to have you back Y/N,” Jacob bustles around her like a mother hen as he sets the hearty potato and beef stew freshly made from this morning. Y/N forces her lips into a smile but only manages to pull up a grimace, which her brother doesn’t fail to notice as he sits down opposite her. 

Jacob’s place had been the only solution to her after she’d calmed down enough to stop beating herself up about how she isn’t a royal and will never be. Of course, he’d welcomed her with open arms and a bright smile, so bright that it had almost wiped out any negative feelings rolling through her. Almost.

However, as much as he loves seeing his sister present and in the flesh -- they always joked that one day she’ll come back to him with one less leg since she’s always been too brave for her own good -- it is clear from her countenance that there’s something more bothering her, other than her pathetic excuse that she apparently ‘missed’ him. 

Y/N’s life had always revolved around castle walls. She’s never really been homesick. 

“Tell me,” Jacob gazes at her now, eyes filled with understanding when hers decide to concentrate on the rice bowl before her. There are blue shadows imprinted underneath her eyes and though she has spent the entire day acting cheerful and somewhat carefree as she usually is, he hasn’t failed to notice the puffiness of her eyelids or how her face gets shadowed in sadness whenever she thinks he’s not paying attention. 

“Y/N,” Jacob prompts, chopsticks tapping his bowl to get her attention, “tell me. You don’t drop by for anything. So there must be something.”

Her lips pressed together. For a moment, only silence reigns. 

A soft exhale escapes her mouth, before she says in a shaky soprano, “I kissed the Prince.” 

“You what?!” Jacob’s eyes go as wide as saucers. He can’t stop himself from gawking at her. 

“I--” she blinks at the tears now threatening to consume her once more, “I kissed the Prince. I kissed Kevin. And I--I--” 

Her eyes fly up to lock on her brother’s own maroon orbs through her film of tears, “I love him,” she chokes. 

Silence reigns over the room as she waits, eyes lowered towards her plate, for her brother to berate her with facts and his judgment about how she could even do such a thing or even get involved in a situation that she knew would end up with complications. 

But Jacob doesn't say anything. She peeks up at him through her curtain of parted hair, surprised when all she finds is a kind of delicate sympathy glimmering across his face. 

"So did you just leave? Without telling him?" Jacob asks softly.

She nods, slightly guilty. It sounds bad when he puts it that way, so she says, "I resigned yesterday--"

Knock knock knock.

The two freeze up in their seats, ears perking up in alert at the intrusion. 

Then, a muffled voice echoes through the door, a voice that causes Y/N's eyes to snap up towards the nature of the sound.

"Excuse me? This is Prince Kevin, from Meridia. Sorry to disturb you. Uhm  I've heard that you are Y/N's brother. Is Y/N here?" 

She blinks, meets Jacob's eyes who are just as wide as hers. 

She wastes no time in diving under the table, much to her brother's surprised yelp. 

"What are you doing?!" He hisses, head swivelling from her crouched figure to Kevin's figure behind the door.

"What does it look like I'm doing?!" Y/N scowls, "I'm hiding!"

"Well, he's obviously asking for you--"

"If he asks, I'm not here. I never visited you."

"But--"

"Just go!"

Jacob lets out a heavy sigh, before he reluctantly slides off his stool and heads to open the door. 

"Hi," there is sweat glistening off the Prince's face when their eyes meet, his eyes already flying over Jacob's shoulder in search of his second in command, "have you seen--"

"She's not here," Jacob hurriedly interrupts.

"Please," Kevin's alto cracks slightly, "I just want to talk to her. Please."

“I told you she’s not here.” 

“I saw her horse. I know it’s hers, please. I know she’s here.” 

It’s useless, Y/N thinks to herself while squeezing her eyes shut, trying to stop her heart from running a thousand miles an hour at the tone of desperation clinging to Kevin’s alto and making her heart tug in all sorts of wrong directions. 

“Please,” Kevin murmurs. 

That does it, causing her to wrench her body out of the cramped table space before she storms over to him, anger slowly simmering in the pits of her stomach. 

How dare he show up here after telling her that he wasn’t going to sacrifice his reputation because of what he wanted in life? How dare does he show up here, unannounced, and expect that she’ll be okay with the whole ordeal. As if watching him dance around with someone else in his arms isn’t bad enough! 

“What?” She almost barks out from behind Jacob. The latter jumps back to let her march through, obviously not new to her temper tantrums, and Kevin stumbles back impulsively, flinching when he catches sight of her scowl. 

“Hey,” the prince of Meridia’s voice is soft. 

“What do you want Kevin?” Y/N doesn’t even try hiding her exasperation, knuckles clamped down so hard onto the doorway that she feels the wood chips biting into her fingers. 

He takes a moment too long to answer. 

“Why did you leave?” 

Y/N is too focused on trying to find a coherent answer to notice that Jacob has gently let himself out of the back door. 

“Why did you leave, Y/N?” Kevin repeats. 

“Did you expect me to stay?”

Guilt swims through his eyes, "you could’ve told me--”

“Told you what exactly? That I didn’t want to see you live your life with another woman after what happened between us? Told you that my heart hurts every time I hear the word ‘wedding’ and ‘princess Delia’?” 

She knows that each word sprouting from her mouth is a dagger aimed straight for his heart. But at that particular moment, she really doesn’t care whether he’s hurt or not. She wants to hurt him, wants him to feel the pain she feels.

For once, she wants him to know how it feels to be in her shoes.

Silence drags out between the two individuals, each staring at each other and Y/N practically rendered breathless from her small outburst. There’s so much going on in his face, so many emotions flittig through his eyes but she’d rather not see them. Instead, she clamps her gaze down onto his soaked-through white silk shirt and absentmindedly wonders why in the world would he wear one of his best attires to head to the village. 

Not that she cares. She doesn’t care. At all. She doesn’t care what happens to him, doesn’t care whether he gets married off or not. But she’s not going to stick around to tolerate it. She can’t. It’ll break her heart. 

A hand comes up to grasp her chin softly, “look at me, Y/N.”

Despite her mind sending out alarms of protest, her body reacts on its own and her eyes slowly drag upwards. What she sees in Kevin’s mahogany pools almost makes her gasp, for they are filled with such tenderness, a fragility mixed with pained guilt, that her chest tightens uncomfortably. 

“The wedding is called off.” 

She blinks. Frowns. Silence. 

Then: “what?” 

Kevin’s lips curl slightly upwards, “I told them to call off the wedding.” 

She can feel something lodged in the back of her throat, “What do--What do you mean?” she pauses, “I don’t...understand.”

"I don't want to marry Delia, I don't want to be King of Meridia if that means losing you Y/N," he tugs her close with his other hand wrapping around her waist then, so that she stumbles into his chest, "all these things, they're not worth it. Not if--" he takes a shaky breath, "not if you're not mine."

Her heart practically soars through her chest, his words totally throwing her off track and causing her jaw to fall open and gape at him as though he just grew a second pair of eyes. 

Kevin only chuckles and brushes his knuckles over her cheekbone, "please say something."

"I--What do you want me to say? What did your parents say? What--No, you can't resign Kevin. You can't do that--"

"My parents have nothing to do with whom I chose to spend the rest of my life with," he cuts her off with a determined glint in his eyes, "I told them that if I'm to rule over Meridia, then I get to choose who the hell I want to marry. And that's not Delia," their eyes lock onto each other, "it never was Delia."

It is relief that Y/N feels first, blossoming through her chest as hope lights up a fire within her. Blood rushes to her face, not knowing how to reply to his sudden confession when she hasn't even been expecting him in the first place. 

"So," Kevin exhales a breath, closes his eyes for a brief moment, before opening them again with newfound determination, "will you? Be mine?" 

"I--" her brain feels like scrambled eggs. The agreement is at the tip of her tongue, it's just right there. And yet she can't find the strength, nor the courage, to utter them out loud. 

Because she's scared. She's scared that this might change everything, because it will.

‘Are you sure about this?’ She murmurs.

He nods firmly, determination glinting in his eyes. 

Taking a deep breath and letting it seep through her teeth with her next exhale, Y/N finally dips her head down into a single nod. 

‘okay,’ her voice shakes with emotion, ‘okay.’ 

A sigh so loud and filled with relief shudders throughout Kevin’s entire body and he all but collapses against her. 

‘I won’t let anyone hurt you,’ his breath washes against her ear at his murmur, ‘I promise.’ 

And before she opens her mouth to say anything else, the prince of Meridia has already swooped in to catch her lips in a firm, passionate kiss. A kiss filled with all the promises he agreed to kiss, a kiss that rendered her weak at the knees and made her a gasping mess, hands slipping up his neck as the man tilted his head to kiss her a little deeper, a little longer. 

When they both part for air, Kevin lets out the softest of sighs while pressing his forehead against hers. 

“I’m no princess,” Y/N says through a choked up murmur, her eyes finding the warmth emanating from his own in shades of golden warm hues making it impossible for her not to melt right into his embrace.

“I know,” Kevin’s nose bumps against hers, “and that’s exactly why I love you.” 

[bluesfortheredj]

Faking It.

You used to have a crush on the man you were going to get in bed with for a while, for about five years to be precise, but you never expected to have do what you were about to do in front of a closed set crew with cameras pointing at you from all different angles with him. It was almost a dream come true for you even though you’d never say it out loud for Ben to hear, and you were excited that your first sex scene would be with someone like this who was just as shy as you were about it.

“I know you used to fancy him,” Ben comments as you try and force your breakfast down.

“Huh?”

“Evan… I know you used to fancy him. I remember on your dating profile under the ‘ideal man’ section was his name.”

“That was until I met you though obviously!”

“Goes without saying,” he winks, “is it weird having to pretend to have sex with someone you used to fancy?”

“Well I’m not entirely sure yet.”

“Will you think of me when you’re trying to get in the right frame of mind?”

You push your plate of toast away and stand up before making your way over to where Ben is by the kettle then drape your arms over his shoulders and kiss him deeply, your hips grinding into his as his hands attach themselves to your waist and pull you against him. He quickly spins you both around so you’re now backed into the corner of the kitchen work surfaces and as he trails wet, open mouthed kisses down your neck you close your eyes to savour the feel of it all.

“Yeah,” you finally answer, “I’ll think of you.”

“Good,” he smirks, nibbling your skin softly, “just try not to say my name.”

“No promises on that,” you exhale as your fingers weave their way through his thick hair, “oh god Ben you’re going to have to stop before I need a cold shower. I’ve got to get to set!”

“Fine,” he huffs, leaving one last long kiss on your neck, “try not to think about that too much though… wouldn’t want you getting all hot and bothered with him.”

Ben had certainly left you with a lasting memory as you sit in the back of the cab with your finger tips running along the side of your neck as you remember the feel of Ben’s lips against it. It’s not good to be thinking such things really as you feel a slight tingle between your legs and know you need to save any of this to make sure your scene looks real enough without going the whole way.

Evan’s first to greet you with a warm hug and a smile when you get to set then you take the first hour to go through everything with the director, boom operator and the two camera operators who would be the only ones on the closed set that day. There are nervous looks exchanged between the two of you but you end up laughing through the tension as you position yourselves fully clothed on the bed with Evan crawling his way up your body so they could check the lighting.

“Hey, come here often?” he grins as he mimics a thrusting action while lights are angled towards you both then dimmed.

“Not as often as I should,” you laugh.

Had his eyes always been this bright?

No, think of Ben, think of Ben, think of… maybe not, that’s making it worse.

“How’s Ben doing? It’s been far too long since I saw him,” he asks as if he can read your mind.

“He’s, uh, yeah he’s good. You two will have to catch up while you’re over here filming, he’d like that.”

“As soon as this scene is over and I can look him in the eye again,” he winks.

The wink was much more powerful in real life than it was through a screen, and you’re thankful that you’re already vertical else you were sure your knees would have given way at the action if you were standing.

“Ready to shoot?” the director asks.

“Ready as we’ll ever be,” Evan nods.

You both head off to the dressing rooms to undress and change into the modesty garments which for you included skin coloured knickers and nothing else but a robe to arrive at set with. It had already been agreed that you were comfortable with some breast on show, although it did take some convincing from Ben, and having had consulted with the intimacy co-ordinator throughout the creation of the scene both you and Evan were comfortable with the idea of what was to happen. Every move had been carefully choreographed to make sure you were both okay with everything that was going on which had also put Ben’s mind at rest as well, knowing there’d only be one brief touch of your breast.

Your fingers fiddle with the loop of your robe belt as you walk to set, your heart rate speeding up a little from initial nerves, but as soon as you see Evan and his understanding smile you relax a little and take everything in your stride as you slip under the covers of the bed and wriggle free of your dressing gown for someone to take.

“Ready for me?” he asks, and damn the younger version of you is screaming at this moment.

“Absolutely,” you nod, shuffling onto your side in preparation for the start of the scene.

The filming itself goes by in a blur of bumped noses and misbehaving sheets as they slip too far down Evan’s body to reveal his modesty protecting underwear, but the other takes run much more smoothly and you end on a high note with the loud moan of his character’s name; Ben’s luckily not slipping off your tongue instead. You’re both quickly covered up and go your separate ways to dress and before you head back to set for the last piece of filming for the day you quickly check your phone to see a couple of messages from Ben.

- Let me know how it all goes x

- Or maybe not… do I even want to know? This is so weird. I love you xx

You shoot a quick ‘I love you too’ back to him then carry on with the day completely unaware of the slight jealousy that was rising in Ben as images of you and Evan whirred around his mind, blowing everything out of proportion. There hadn’t been much talk of the relationship you were meant to portray with him on screen, only the overview of the intimate scene that you wanted to go through with Ben, and knowing that you’d definitely fancied Evan at some point in your life was making him feel a little insecure in case these feelings came flooding back through the chemistry you were creating with one another.

“Sorry!” you call out when you finally come through the front door after the filming overran by a couple of hours, “I got us take away on the way home though!”

Ben sits on the sofa in silence after having the afternoon to mull things over, and he’s practically convinced himself that you’re in love with the guy again.

“Ben? Earth to Ben?!” you laugh as he stays looking at the blank television screen, “I have pizza… come and get it before it goes cold. It’s your favourite!”

“Thanks,” he mumbles as he gets up but avoids eye contact with you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Have fun today?” he asks as he tears some slices of pizza and slides them onto a plate.

“Uh, yeah, it was good. Everything went well with the… y’know… it was the bit afterwards that was a disaster!” you chuckle.

“And how was the sex scene?” his gaze is fixed on the plate as he grips it with both hands.

“As good as it could have been. Was over pretty quick thankfully, it was mostly a blur of hands and lips then it was done.”

“How did Evan find it?”

“You’d probably have to ask him that one… we didn’t exactly talk about it afterwards. Ben, tell me what you’re thinking because I can almost see the cogs moving in your head.”

Ben sighs as his grip loosens on the china then he reluctantly peeks up at you through his eyelashes.

“You and him getting so close on set… what’s to stop your old feelings coming back?” he mutters quietly, sounding embarrassed at his own thoughts.

“Ben!” you laugh, “that was a stupid crush! I won’t deny that younger me would have gone absolutely mental at the thought of having a scene like that with him, but current me didn’t! I’d rather be at home with you under a blanket watching shitty telly than pretending to have sex with Evan bloody Peters. Even if you are in a huffy mood...”

His mouth slowly turns up into a smile as he finally looks at you properly for the first time since you walked through the door, and you move around the kitchen island to stand in front of him as he turns towards you so you can place your loving touch upon his cheek and reassure him with a kiss.

“You’re my ideal man Ben. You always will be,” you whisper.

“Damn right,” he winks.

Would you do an evan one? Reader working with evan, they have an intimate scene and reader is with ben who gets a lil jelly over it!!

@peachllobotomy @lv7867 @aynsleywalker @pink-lemo @painthatiusedto @itisjustmethistime @mamaskillerqueen @queenslandlover-93

[queensumomo]

Jon Snow and Sansa Stark :  The Game of Thrones OTP that I never saw coming

I’m going to begin this post by saying that I never watched a single episode of the HBO series Game of Thrones.  Nada.  I tried with the very first episode of season 1 but at the time, I was in the middle of the second book “A Clash of Kings” so I dropped the series.  Being the purist that I am, I prefer to finish the novels first before getting into their film or television adaptations.  This allows me to compare and to fill in any missing pieces in the adaptation.  I told myself that I would finish all the novels, then just catch up with the series.  But I kept on putting off both the novels and the series so now, here I am, still in the middle of “A Storm of Swords: Part 1″, and on the eve of the first episode of the final season.  I doubt very much that I’ll be able to finish all the novels in time for the final season run.  But I do have all the books, except for the one with the maps, and I’m looking forward to the final novel “The Winds of Winter”.  

So why did I have to premise what I’m about to say with that?  That’s because I want to emphasize that I never had any preconceived notions when I found myself falling headlong and getting onboard this ship called “Jonsa”.  

Truth be told, I did have a little bias initially towards the Jon/Daenerys pairing, but this was purely because of my having read the first two novels.  It had nothing to do with me thinking that they would make a lovely pair.  I just thought that it would make sense, plot-wise, given who they were.  At the onset, I already guessed that Jon Snow was no ordinary bastard, that he had a birth secret that would turn the game of thrones upside down.  And Daenerys is the last known Targaryen princess.   I guess I’ve watched enough anime and KDramas to be very familiar with this kind of twist in the story.  In any case, I didn’t get into the novels for the romance.  I just found this whole complex universe fascinating.    

So I don’t recall anymore how I found myself aboard the ship.  I think I was browsing YouTube randomly and decided to check out some GoT clips.  Then I think I stumbled onto some MVs made by creative fans, or I found the clips of their reunion scene and other scenes of Jon and Sansa together in season 6.  Either way, I decided to check them out.  Lo and behold! I found myself practically hit between the eyes with the sheer chemistry and sexual tension between these two!  It was the last thing I expected to see.  

I think what really did me in were their reunion on Castle Black, and when Jon kissed Sansa’s forehead on the battlements.  

That reunion was just so emotional.  Without saying much, only with their facial expressions, it was more than enough to tell me how much seeing each other meant to them.  Of course, if you think about it, it was probably out of sheer relief and a bit of hysteria because I doubt they ever expected they would see each other again, much less see each other alive and well, or as well as can be expected after what they’ve gone through.  But then, there was Jon, watching Sansa sip her soup, and the way he looked at her, it was as if she was something precious and delicate.  Sansa was more reserved during that scene, her feelings more of a puzzle to me.  As if after the adrenalin rush of their reunion had died down, she was not entirely sure how she would conduct herself in front of Jon, whom she never really interacted with when they were growing up in Winterfell.  But Jon’s words at that moment were very sure:  they will stay together.  “Where will WE go?”  

And then, after the Battle of the Bastards, when they talked and he kissed her on her forehead, it was, to me, the physical manifestation of that look that he gave her when they first sat together after their emotional reunion.  That to him, Sansa has indeed become very precious and I guess he only realized at that moment exactly how much.  

One can always argue that the forehead kiss is a sign of brotherly affection and Jon’s reassurance that he trusts her, in spite of what happened.  In all honesty, that was what my mind was telling me.  However, my gut feel was saying otherwise.  The vibe that I got when I first saw that kiss, and even during several repeat viewings that I did afterwards, where nowhere near the area of filial love.  It was something else.  If I didn’t already have an inkling about who Jon really is even from the books alone, I would have icked myself out with what I was feeling.  But knowing what I knew about who he was, it just occurred to me that this, this thing between Jon and Sansa, makes much better sense than Jon and Daenerys.  This is of course, based purely on the scenes from the series that I saw, and not from anything that I’ve read yet.  I haven’t reached that point yet in the novel series where Sansa’ character has grown enough for her and Jon to make sense together.  But if the series reflects the direction of the novels as a whole, then I would expect them to happen eventually even on paper.    

There were also the other scenes in between of Jon and Sansa together, where Sansa’s feelings were more on the surface.  I don’t have to analyze them in detail anymore as I’m sure so many have done that before me.  In any case, I don’t need further convincing as far as these two characters are concerned.  It’s just that, after having seen what I’ve seen of Jon and Sansa together, I can’t unsee it anymore.  It effectively destroyed whatever little bias I had for the Jon/Daenerys pairing from the novels that I was initially expecting.  

If the drama were to still go the route of Jon/Daenerys, after everything that it made happen between Jon and Sansa, then I will feel very shortchanged indeed.     

*Credits to lauraZvidZ, the owner of the video that I quoted on this post.  This was one fanmade MV of the Jonsa pairing that I especially love, more so because it compared them to Ned and Catelyn, and Ned just happens to be my most favorite Game of Thrones character of all time.  

[starwarsnonsense]

Top 10 Films of 2018

This is rather delayed (mainly on account of an extended bout of laziness on my part), but I was still determined to get it out there! While I don’t think 2018 quite reached the heights of 2017 (nothing matched The Last Jedi or Blade Runner 2049, for example), there was still a lot of great cinema. 

As always, keeping this list at 10 meant I had to omit some great titles. Just so you get an idea of what I had to leave out, here are some honourable mentions: Eighth Grade, Lady Bird, Revenge, Phantom Thread, Thoroughbreds, Lean on Pete and Game Night.

1. Roma, dir. Alfonso Cuarón

Roma is a deeply special film, and I’m very fortunate in having got to see it in the best possible circumstances - projected on a huge cinema screen, with its gorgeous, silvery cinematography a marvel to witness. This film takes the kind of life that would usually be forgotten and turns it into an epic, interweaving the story of a loving, resilient housemaid with the seismic political events unfolding in Mexico in the early 1970s. The shots are highly symmetrical and geometric, with characters passing in and out of pre-established frames. But this is clearly intentional, and - to me at least - the story felt no less personal for it. There are several all-time great scenes in this film, and while I don’t want to spoil any of them with extended descriptions, I will say that there’s a sequence in a hospital that balances the mundane and the monumental in an extraordinary and heartbreaking way. This is breathtaking, masterful filming, and I felt it did justice to Cleo’s life without ever attempting to claim her experience. The film is quiet and the dialogue is almost perfunctory, relying heavily on its visuals - it’s cinema at its purest.

2. Annihilation, dir. Alex Garland

True story: I was so desperate to see Annihilation in a cinema that I flew to New York for it. Of course Annihilation wasn’t my sole reason for travelling to New York, but you can be damn sure I made a point of tracking down an Alamo Drafthouse that was showing it. And boy was it worth it. This movie does a magnificent job of fulfilling the potential of sci-fi, taking otherworldly concepts and ideas and using them to interrogate some of the most profound and frightening truths of what it means to be human. This movie has a quietly hypnotic quality to it, and Natalie Portman continues to prove that she is one of the finest modern actors - she says so much with her face and her movements that lines are hardly necessary. I will continue to follow Alex Garland’s career with great interest...

3. Beast, dir. Michael Pearce

Beast was probably my biggest surprise in film in 2018 - I went in expecting nothing, and was bowled over by it to the point that I rushed out to see it again at the first opportunity. This film follows lonely outsider Moll and her ardent love for the mysterious Pascal. There is a heightened, almost supernatural, quality to their romance, and the actors - Jessie Buckley and Johnny Flynn - have electric chemistry. This film delights in playing with the viewer’s fears and suspicions, constantly adjusting them as the characters evolve over the course of the movie. It’s a great fusion of genres - mystery and romance - that also functions as a superb character piece, and it is entirely worth your time.

4. Bad Times at the El Royale, dir. Drew Goddard

This film is bonkers in an amazing way. A bunch of seemingly random strangers gather at a hotel that’s far from its glory days, and it isn’t long before all hell breaks lose. The ensemble here is terrific, with all the cast members playing off each other in a succession of utterly delightful ways. Every character conceals a secret history and motive, with their layers gradually being peeled back as the movie plays out. Special mention must go to Cynthia Erivo, who is simply stupendous as a session singer who I wound up considering the film’s real hero - she’s marvellously charismatic and complex, and her voice is a complete wonder. This film is a messy tangle of mysteries, and I had a wonderful time unravelling them.

5. First Reformed, dir. Paul Schrader

I have a weird soft spot for ‘crisis of faith’ movies (think Silence), and this is a very fine entry into that niche. Ethan Hawke is superb here as a priest attending to an old church that has effectively been reduced to a chintzy tourist attraction, and I found the depiction of how he struggles with his faith, overwhelmed by disillusionment and the immense crises facing the earth, fascinating and beautifully written. Schrader wrote and directed this film, and it is one of his greatest achievements - the dialogue probes deep, never feeling trite or obvious. I also appreciated how the spiritual was so often conflated with the personal, with a thin line drawn being drawn between the divine and the carnal (that end scene is a woozy thing to experience). It’s a beautifully judged film, made all the more fascinating for its ambiguity. 

6. Won’t You Be My Neighbor?, dir. Morgan Neville

The greatest testament to the power of this wonderful, good-hearted documentary is probably that I went into it knowing practically nothing about Mr Rodgers (he just wasn’t a thing here in the UK) and left it thinking he’s the hero the world needs right now. I’ve seen so many documentaries illuminating the ugliest parts of humanity that I didn’t realise how much I needed one spotlighting the best bits. But this documentary isn’t pure sentiment, though there’s a lot of that - I found a lot to admire in Mr Rodgers approach to child psychology and education, particularly his conviction that every child can benefit from a warm, steady presence, even of the source of the reassurance happens to be trapped in a TV monitor. I can only hope this inspires a fresh wave of documentaries on similarly worthy subjects.

7. The Wife, dir. Björn Runge

Glenn Close is coming for that Best Actress Oscar and no one can convince me otherwise. With The Wife, the whole movie transparently rests on the shoulders of one woman - Close’s performance is almost sphinx-like, being enigmatic and low-key to the point that her emotions are almost invisible. But their failure to manifest doesn’t mean they don’t exist, and that is perhaps the point of the whole movie. Joan Castleman might seem like the ideal wife of a great author, but she is revealed to be far more than that - a singular individual with dreams, passions, ambitions and regrets. Glenn Close makes the gradual reveal of each facet magnetic, to the point that the slightest twinges of her facial muscles become potent symbols.

8. Blindspotting, dir.  Carlos López Estrada

This is an urgent, gripping movie that tackles some of the biggest issues there are. Collin and Miles are friends, but this film sees their friendship challenged, the dynamics underlying it interrogated. I’ve seen movies described as “empathy machines” before, and Blindspotting is a great example of that. It sucks you into the day-to-day experience of living Collin’s life, whether he’s getting a window into the hang-ups of the people whose belongings he is moving (he drives a moving truck) or just chilling out with his friends. Alongside this, it also portrays how terrifying it is to live as a black man in America, how vanishingly little value appears to be placed on your life by those in authority. There’s a rap scene at the film’s climax that consolidates all of Collin’s rage and hurt, and it truly packs a punch.

9. American Animals, dir. Bart Layton

This film portrays a very different side to young American manhood from Blindspotting. Instead of living from day to day, the protagonists of this film start out with pretty much everything they could need - stability, support and good prospects. They choose to unsettle their existence by staging an outrageous heist, clearly dreaming of becoming legends and injecting excitement into their comfortable lives. American Animals does a fantastic job of pulling their plan apart, and since it was based on a true story director Bart Layton does something quite ingenious - he combines real interviews with re-enactments, the filmed scenes being switched out and adjusted according to the conflicting testimonies. In this way, American Animals becomes much more then a depiction of entitled young men seeking to mythologise themselves - it also functions as an interrogation of truth, and the myriad deceptive qualities of cinema.

10. Mission Impossible: Fallout, dir. Christopher McQuarrie

I have no idea how this franchise keeps on stepping up its game, but it does. It reminds me of how the James Bond films ended up taking Bond to space. I can see MI doing that at this point, except we all know that Tom Cruise would actually fly into space for it. With that prelude out of the way, I just need to stress what a fantastic action movie this is. The set-pieces here are marvellously staged, and their execution made them absolutely gripping - I was anxious over every punch, flinching at every cracked bone. McQuarrie is a true master of tension and suspense, and the movie was simply a magnificent ride. I was lucky enough to see this in IMAX with @bastila-bae, and the mere thought of people watching this on smartphones fills me with the rare kind of sorrow known only to shameless film snobs.

Look out for highlights from 2019 - coming up in a few months!

[thesinglesjukebox]

CAMILA CABELLO FT. YOUNG THUG - HAVANA [5.27] East Atlanta affair...

Maxwell Cavaseno: Young Thug plus Latin grooves has typically been an automatic victory lap, so it's not going to be any surprise that Jeff in Denis O'Bell mode is going to be satisfying. What's interesting is that in this chunky affair, Cabello actually manages to feel a sense of restraint and avoid indulging herself far too much. Yet at the same time, perhaps a more energetic vocal that didn't feel far too withdrawn might've hit just the sweet spot. [6]

Joshua Copperman: It took a while for this song to stick with me; I couldn't get past the piano hook, which isn't a sample but sounds like one. The rest of the beat feels watered down from the sultry jam it could have been, though the piano break when Young Thug comes on and does his thing is a cool little moment. Camila's performance even has some interesting quirks, but not even a crack team with Jeffery, Ali Tamposi, Frank Dukes, Starrah, Pharrell, and Trumpet Flourish can make it into a bona fide banger. [5]

Nortey Dowuona: Nice salsa keys but awkward as heck bass and drums, while Camila is really not making a good case for her solo career. Young Thug is sadly subdued and caged in the beat. Meanwhile, Camila stuffs the song too full with all of her scratchy-voice cooing. [5]

Andy Hutchins: I liked these keys better on "Dedication to My Ex" and the "oh na na"s better on "What's My Name," but credit is due to the dearly departed member of Fifth Harmony for at least mostly trying to stop doing entire scales every bar. Trouble is, that moderation makes her sound a bit too much like Selena Gomez, and the instrumental is far too busy and layered for someone to stand out while riding it -- even Cabello, who tries her typical tricks in the pre-hook, and Thugger, who has the good sense to not stray too far from the undulations in his verse. [5]

Katherine St Asaph: If I can stop thinking this is "Same Old Love" pitched at Lana Del Rey (enough writers contributed enough parts that some of it might be), this is pleasant reheated drama. Only problem is, if half of her heart's in Havana, so is half of her chorus. [5]

Jonathan Bradley: Camila Cabello was born in Cuba. Havana is the capital of Cuba; the name is an anglicized version of what might be a hispanicized recasting of a Taino name. Young Thug was born in Atlanta, the capital of the US state of Georgia. Atlanta is an anglicized version of what is ultimately a Greek name. "Havana" has a rolling Latin piano riff submerged in the murk that characterizes Southern US hip-hop in 2017; you might imagine Metro Boomin remixing "Havana" and making it even gloomier and more dissociative. If that were to happen, perhaps Young Thug could contribute another, more memorable verse. "Havana," as this song demonstrates obsessively, sounds a lot like "Atlanta," even though there is little linguistic link between the two. Is it fun to join the dots like this? Is it fun listening to the dots being joined? [4]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: Camila is Cuban and Young Thug's an ATLien, sure, but these associations that "Havana" wants us to make are shallow and cipherous, distractions meant to lend credence to a song that fails to capitalize on the strengths of either vocalist. For all the clamorous uproar that occurs whenever Camila decides to sing, one would hope that there would be just as much disdain for a relatively reserved approach that's worse than her most ostentatious moments. But no, many will praise her restraint here or feel indifferent to it, failing to recognize that she needn't restrain her vocalizing for a song that's ostensibly less suitable for her histrionics. Like Young Thug a few years ago, Camila's simply in the process of discovering how to best use her voice, especially now that she's flying solo. But she overshoots (er, undershoots?) here, sounding more bored than ever, stymieing the chemistry she could have had with Young Thug. Even then, it's clear that Jeffery could've been more unhinged too -- just imagine the intense back-and-forth that could've been present between the two if they engaged in varying degrees of unpredictable vocal delivery. The tension that occupies the interstitial space between salsa dancers? That's not here. Which means that there's no heat able to radiate outward to all of Camila and Thugger's onlookers. [3]

Alfred Soto: No fan, I succumbed without fuss to the "I Feel the Earth Move" lilt of the piano and Camila Cabello's ease with the verse melody. There's nothing Havana-esque about "Havana" despite the singer's ethnicity, though, unless a trumpet solo = Latin.  And there's no fucking reason why Young Thug should share space except for streaming hits. [6]

Josh Love: This is a perfectly fine song with a reliable trad-Latin melody but it could have been so much more if Thugger had been given room to breathe. Not sure why you call him in to do a feature that any number of anonymous artists could have delivered. It's like the old adage about buying a Ferrari and then only using it for trips to the grocery store. [5]

Julian Axelrod: The only reason "Havana" isn't a Bond theme is because there hasn't been a Bond film worthy of a Young Thug verse. Isn't it wild how we go on for months pretending songs like "Pillowtalk" are sexy and then something like this, which finds the exact musical midpoint between 1966 and 2006, comes out? What a shame. [8]

Leonel Manzanares: Certainly her strongest solo single -- a mid-range cooing instead of a blaring Camila is definitely more appealing -- but the motionlessness of its structure takes a lot of strength from both her vocal and the rolling Young Thug verse. Still, that danzón/chachachá piano (of course, that unmistakable i-VI-V chord progression echoing decades of Cuban music) and Frank Dukes's clattery beat show a step forward for Cabello. I do want more of this, but better.  [6]

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