#there’s such admiration in his expression when he introduces David to spot

[liliesyonder]

thinking abt David and Jack and warmth and family (again)

[tooktheladdedgbtq]

....and the Oscar goes to.. | Tom Holland X Male!actor reader. 

A/N: this was just something I wrote because I got inspired I guess. Happy Pride everyone!

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You couldn’t decide whether time was slipping through your fingers too quickly or if this had been the longest night you’d ever experienced.

seconds slowed to a crawl while you tried to gather yourself before it was your turn to take the stage. You were nervous. Not about being at the oscars or presenting for the first time. Not even about being nominated for your leading role in the second installment of a critically acclaimed trilogy. No, you’d been used to these sorts of things, you’d been an actor since you were a very young kid. Starting on television before film, and you even got to hold the Emmy the show had won when you had just turned a teenager.

No, you were nervous about who exactly you’d be presenting to. Of the five nominees and potential winners, only one could cause such an intensive feeling in your chest. Only one could awaken a sense of dread that battled with a feeling of intensive happiness mixed with anticipation, and it was Tom.

You’d known each other for years and had come to fall in love. You’d met as young co-stars on set and eventually grew into an inseparable friendship that progressed into something far more. Neither of you were sure when the feelings started but it felt like they’d always been there and you weren’t exactly complaining.

Your blissfulness with Tom was beautiful but short lived. After almost a year of being official you both agreed to take a break from the relationship. Unbeknownst to Tom you were just agreeing to save face and hadn’t pried for an answer out of fear of being hurt. You just accepted that this was how things were now, and took a step back.

You’d still kept in contact with him. It was hard not to. He was still your best friend. But whether it was the business of work or something a little more awkward, distance grew between you both as the multi-hour long facetime calls and text threads became once-a-week check-ins to just make sure you were alive and okay.

Time had passed, and you didn’t have a clue what you could possibly say to him now. You certainly didn’t want to ruin his special night. But you’d missed him so much and felt like you would implode at the first sign that he’d be interested in getting back together with you. But you also didn’t want to seem desperate or needy if he’d moved on. You didn’t want to slip and say those three words again in the moment.

Father time showed you no mercy as the sand in his hourglass suddenly shifted from a slow-motion drip to a flood. The seconds you’d spent daydreaming of your past with Tom and pondering about the your potential future had passed and left you with little time to gather yourself before presenting. still you shook your hands, arms, and lastly shoulders, putting all your worries aside and waited for introduction from the host.

Before long you’d been counted in to walking on stage, and heard the host over the microphone. “Ladies and Gentlemen, to present the award and introduce the nominees for Best Supporting Actor, please welcome one of this year’s nominees and one of our generation’s greatest talents: Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

The applause erupts from the audience like a revved up engine as you took center but it was nothing compared to the standing ovation you’d receive later on that night when receiving your own award for Best Actor.

You were stood promptly center staged with the towering Oscar statue reflecting onto the black stage floor beneath your feet. Your outfit was alluring and would surely be the next hot topic which is rare for male stars. You looked like a million bucks. Everyone knew it, most of all, Tom.

You smile and wave as you approach the microphone, your teeth shining a blinding white, and wait for a hush from the crowd.

You chuckle lightly as a few hoots and hollers sound out as the cheers subside.

You eye the monitor across the room and start to read, your nerves dying down as your jokes land and laughter echoes around the room.

As you finish the introduction, clips start to show behind you to accompany the names of the nominees as the cameras catch a glimpse of each of their reactions.

You couldn’t help but notice how tough the competition was as each actor was called. Steven Yuen playing a detective in a thrilling murder mystery. John David Washington in a fictional film playing the world’s first black astronaut aiding in the discovery of lovecraftian horrors. Andrew Garfield for his role as a psychotic narcissist and genius businessman. Oscar Issac acting in a sci fi space opera asking questions of existentialism.

Finally, you had to withhold your smile as you called out the last name. He had returned to his Billy Elliot roots being nominated for his role in a astonishing musical romance film. “Tom Holland.” You’d been ecstatic when he’d told you about it as you’d always recommend he tried it again since it made him so happy in his younger years.

You spot him a few rows from the stage, making eye contact with him and wondering if he was thinking about you the way you had done with him earlier. You couldn’t help but notice him squirming in his chair and fidgeting with his hands. Selfishly asking yourself if this wasn’t just about the award but about having you present it to him.

Seeing you here after what felt like an eternity apart and your reunion potentially being the greatest achievement of both your careers. Making it the greatest night of your lives, that is, if you were still together. But you were still best friends. That’s what mattered. So you push your self centered thoughts aside and shoot him a small wave that he returns with a smile and thumbs up. letting you know he was okay and that you could continue as the camera pans back to you capturing your not so hidden giddiness.

This awarded some small oos and aahs from the crowd as your relationship with him had been a wholly celebrated one. especially among your marvel peers.

You’re handed an envelope and statue as the music ends and the applause dies down and you take one final glare into the camera before beginning to open the envelope.

“....and the Oscar goes to,” you take a peek at the crowd and see some of the nominees holding hands with loved ones. others plainly

awaiting your next words with bated breath. The anticipation shone on everyone’s faces. Even those that weren’t nominated. Your not-so-hidden grin giving away the answer mere milliseconds before his name escaped your lips. “Tom Holland!”

Tom shot up with a shared expression of shock and happiness on his face. Pecking his mother on the cheek as she wipes the tears of pride from her eyes. His best mate Harrison gives him a quick embrace and a pat on the back before he moves on to shake hands with the director and smile at everyone cheering him on as he gradually moves toward the stage still completely baffled at the victory.

As he walks towards you in his pink pastel colored suit and brown leather dress shoes you can’t help but swell with an overwhelming feeling of joy having been here to share this career defining moment with him. You thought about how far you’d both come to get here and almost started tearing up remembering all you’d been through together.

He skipped up the miniature steps and blanketed you with both arms. You didn’t want it to end as you hadn’t felt it in a while. You threw your arms around his neck and he tightens his hold around your torso. Before you could even process them, your blunt thoughts spill out as whispers.

“I’m so incredibly proud of you. you deserve this and so much more.” you hear a small chuckle escape him as he responds. “I am trying not to cry y’know mate?” a wolf whistle comes from the crowd as you apologize for being so sappy and before he can tell you off for it you hand him his award and shove him off toward the microphone.

As he takes center stage you stand off to the side to watch him give his acceptance speech. He pauses and takes a second to gather himself before he starts talking straight from his heart with nothing prepared.

“Um, Wow. I really can’t believe this is really happening and I probably still won’t believe it happened tomorrow. Just.. wow.” his words were filled with that charmingly British accent you’d come to love so much.

“First I would like to thank my mother, without whom of course, I would not be here. I would like to thank the academy and everyone who worked on this movie from the producers and camera men, make-up and costumes, to our wonderful writers, composer, back up dancers and vocalists, and of course my friends, my co-star and the director Damien Chazelle.” whom he gestures to sitting in the second row. “I share this with all of you and I can’t thank you enough for awarding me with the opportunity to create something I love so much.”

He thanks the other nominees before turns towards you to end his speech. you felt your heart in your hands when you saw his big brown puppy eyes dart in your direction with an intensive glare of admiration.

“last but most importantly, I want to thank the inspiration for all of the love songs I sung in the film and the reason I decided to take the role. The person standing here on my right.”

Your jaw drops and your eyes widen when his words hit you like a speeding semi. you realize that he’d just called you his muse in so many words. the inspiration behind the love songs in the film no less. Meaning that with every lovestruck note his character sung he was reminded of you. All that time spent worrying if the distance between you two would cause him to forget about you, or if he’d maybe moved on and found somebody else. But no such thing had happened. He was relating his character’s longing in the film to his longing for you this entire time and that made your heart do a backflip.

You blush and cover your still ajar mouth with your fist whilst trying not to pay attention to the crowd who’s attention was fully focused on you.

He takes a deep sigh before continuing. “Y/N you’re not only the reason I took this role, but you’re the reason I was able to play it with such sincerity. You’ve been a unwavering beacon of support throughout my career in general but here you really gave me the inspiration for something special. He faces the audience again as the all follow his words with whispers of how adorable you both were. “from reading lines together in the middle of the night, to keeping me company when i’m on the brink of a meltdown.” It was all true and it only made you miss you relationship more and you found it difficult to hold back your tears.

“Y/N is the kind of best friend everybody needs, the kind of partner everybody deserves, and the person I’m so incredibly lucky to have known for so long. ..and I still can’t believe he never figured out the lyrics were all about him, It was kind of obvious-” the audience laughed you’re so close to swooning as he turns toward you again. “But, with all my heart, I love you, Y/N. Always will.” you feel as if you’re floating.

He shifts to the crowd one last time to say a final thank you before you both walk off stage one arm around one another’s shoulders. You have a short but sweet conversation backstage with him where reassures you that everything he said on stage was true and completely unscripted. He wants to talk more but knows your category is coming soon so he asks for a later opportunity and you agree before returning to your seat in the crowd.

The rest of the night flew by with you winning the award for best actor and receiving the biggest applause of the night. Tom joined in the standing ovation. You thanked everybody involved in making the film, the academy, and squeezed a little joke directed towards Tom that garnered a shared laugh from both him and the audience. You were the last award of the night and after the celebrations it was time to return to your place, where Tom was waiting for you. Wanting to talk about everything that had happened not just tonight but everything leading up to it. He also hoped you’d kept a spot open in your heart for him to return to.

[dumdumsun]

Forever and Never

A/N: I did it again, @moatsnow! I’m vvv sorry hun 🥺❤️

Warnings: ⚠️rape⚠️, mentions of alcohol and marijuana

Word Count: 5014

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Four: Good For Me

“So, Richard seemed to have been this… distraction. Because being around Stanley made you feel less than, but Richard admired you. You had no faults when you were with him. So, what made you end it? Did something else happen?”

“Yeah… The next day was his birthday.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He’d been texting me all morning. From the moment I opened my eyes, all throughout breakfast, as I took a shower and got dressed. Wasn’t it his birthday? Didn’t he have preparations to go through for his party that night? Of course, I wished him a happy birthday and assured him that I would attend his party. I figured I might as well buy him a present, since most people would only show up to eat food and get drunk. He probably wouldn’t have been receiving many gifts.

As I descended the stairs, I heard Pam and David rushing around the house. “We’re gonna be late, David!”

“I’m aware!”

“Where are the keys?!”

“In your hand!”

I chuckled and leaned against the railing. “What’s going on?”

David turned towards me and sighed. “It’s Jacob’s presentation today, remember? He’s doing that sort of TED Talk thing at school?”

“Oh, yeah… Well, I’m not gonna be able to go, I’d be late to Ricky’s party by the time we got back.”

“Shit, that’s right… I completely forgot about errands as well. It’s our only free day.” He ran his hands through his hair. I perked up and walked the rest of the way down.

“I can do it. I’ll already be out, buying a present for Ricky.”

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” Pam joined the conversation as she and David approached the front door. I nodded with a smile.

“Yeah, it’ll… give me something to do today.”

Pam gave me that same bittersweet smile she usually did before enveloping me in a hug. “You’re so perfect, (Y/N)...”

“Uh… thanks.” My brows furrowed as she pulled away. I looked to my uncle for any clue as to why she suddenly became so sentimental, but he avoided my gaze, muttering something about wanting me to be safe before walking out of the house. “Are you guys okay?”

“Yeah, baby, we’re fine. You be safe today. Don’t get so drunk that you can’t walk straight. And stay the night at Dina’s, if you can!” She called out as she left out the door. I only nodded my head in response, slowly closing the door after her. My phone vibrated in my pocket, so I fished it out to see yet another text.

Ricky: Do you wanna come over and spend the day with me?

I cringed and rolled my eyes. Wasn’t me coming to his party enough? Shaking my head, I replied to him.

Me: I’m actually booked until the party. Lots of errands to run for my aunt and uncle

To be truthfully honest, I just needed to go grocery shopping and stop by the bookstore to pick up Pam’s order. It would only have taken me about an hour at most to complete my tasks. Did Ricky need to know this? Not at all. Tucking my phone back into my pocket, I snatched the grocery list from the fridge and began my quest for the day.

It hadn’t actually registered in my mind that I would need a car for the day. Our list was pretty long, which left me with armfulls of paper grocery bags, my aunt’s book tucked into my jacket pocket located on the inside. I could hardly see over the tops of the bags, but navigated myself all the way towards the diner before I heard a car pull up beside me. I turned my head to see Stan, giving me a goofy grin, eyes shielded by his sunglasses. He reached over to open the passenger door from the inside. “Hey, there, lovely.”

“Good morning there, beautiful.” I chuckled, opening his back door to store my bags in his seats before climbing into the passenger seat beside him. “Thanks so much.”

“It’s my pleasure,” He tilted his head as if he just winked, but it wasn’t like I could’ve seen it. “So, you’re shopping for Aunt Pam?”

“Uh, yeah. Jake had a presentation at his school today and I… had things to do already. So, why not? Might as well do something for them,” I explained as he began driving again. Down the road, I spotted two familiar figures exiting the diner. “Oh, is that Sydney? And her brother?”

“Indeed, it is.” Stan grinned as he turned the corner. His car pulled over towards them, Sydney’s brother excitedly pointing us out. She turned to the car with pursed lips. I turned down the music as Stan reached over to roll down the window, the glass creaking at its usual agonizingly slow pace. I visibly cringed as Sydney gave a painful smile. Once it was down just enough, Stan nodded towards her. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Her smile turned a bit more genuine. Her brother, who introduced himself as Liam, greeted both Stan and I before we all shifted into an awkward silence. Thankfully, Stan broke it after a couple of beats.

“So, it’s good to see you again.”

“Yeah,” Sydney giggled, and I detected a hint of anxiety. “Yeah, you, too.”

“So, do you wanna,” Stan pushed his sunglasses to sit in his curls. “Do you wanna, like, do somethin’ later tonight or somethin’?”

Sydney opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again, all while Stan held his glowing smile. What the hell was going on? “You know, I would, but Dina and I are going to Ricky Berry’s party.”

“No shit? I’ll be there, too.” Stan excitedly sat up.

“Oh, you will?”

“Yeah.”

“Ah. Okay, right,” She chuckled. Anyone around could tell that Sydney was clearly uncomfortable, except for Stan. He was on top of the world, it seemed. “So, I guess I’ll see you there. And we gotta go. Right now.” She quickly ushered her brother down the road. I leaned towards my window and giggled into my hand. Stan slowly slipped his sunglasses back on, muttering a ‘cool’, which only caused me to laugh harder.

“Okay, what the hell is going on between you two?”

Stan gave me a look, or what I assumed was a look, as he continued towards our houses. “What? What are you talking about?”

“What’s going on with you and Syd? And don’t say nothing. You’re literally glowing right now.”

“Okay, okay,” He cleared his throat. “So, last night… we, um… Well, we may or may not have had sex.”

I hoped he hadn’t noticed me hesitate. My brain short circuited and my throat constricted. “O-Oh, really? Like, last night-last night?”

“Yeah, last night-last night.”

“Gross.” I lightly joked and Stan rolled his head towards me with a sly smirk. Chuckling, he looked back towards the road.

“Anyway, I assume you’re going to the party, too? Since you’re Ricky’s little homecoming date now.”

My eyes widened. “You saw it, too?!”

“Everyone saw it, Nugget. ‘The Power Couple’ or whatever they said.” He shook his head.

“Ugh, we are not a couple and I do not want to go to homecoming with him!”

“Then why’d you say yes?!”

“Because everyone was there! They planned the whole thing and my brain just thought to say yes!” I buried my head in my hands. I heard Stan coo from beside me with a small tut.

“My poor little Nugget. I should’ve asked you out before Ricky could.”

I peeked up at him with a warm smile. “Nah, it’s okay. It’s just homecoming, I’m not marrying him. Besides you should ask out Sydney, anyway.”

“Oh, that is the plan.” He grinned.

When we arrived at my house, I got out to carry in the bags, but I heard Stan turn off the car and exit as well. He joined me in retrieving the bags from the seats and waited patiently for me to unlock the front door. Once we were inside, we headed straight for the kitchen and set the bags on the table.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve been inside here,” He commented, looking around the house with a soft smile. I hummed in agreement before our gazes met. “Does your bedroom still look the same?”

The feeling that swept through my soul as I watched Stan excitedly explore my bedroom was a feeling I’d never felt before, but never wanted to leave. He marveled at all of the little trinkets displayed on my shelves, my organized bookshelf, the board above my desk filled with every pin I’ve ever collected. But what had him giddy and pumping his fist in the air was the Bloodwitch poster on my door. “Ah, I knew it! You knew all of the words to Hey Little Girl! You used to hate that song!”

“I don’t have to like the song to know all the words, all you play is Bloodwitch!” I laughed. He pointed towards me as if to say ‘don’t deny it’. I deflated. “Okay, yeah, I finally got into Bloodwitch. I guess it was… just something to remind me of you.”

I nervously stuffed my hands into the pockets of my jeans as Stan slowly lowered his arm, his expression softening. His stance stuttered, like he had stopped himself from doing or saying something instinctive, before scoffing.

“Yeah, well, the school’s horrible plays are what reminded me of you.” He rolled his eyes, receiving a light slap to the arm from me. Once Stan left for his own home, I returned to the kitchen to put the food away in their respective places. I made sure to put David’s cookies in his ‘secret’ compartment within the pantry. I knew he’d appreciate it since Jacob always found them if they weren’t stored correctly. I quietly giggled to myself, thinking back to a time when Jacob swore up and down that he hadn’t eaten the cookies. In fact, I remember correctly that we both had eaten them and he was just trying to cover for the both of us. We were caught the next day and forced to sit through a fifteen minute lecture on respecting our elders and the importance of privacy.

I nearly forgot about Pam’s book, but I remembered as I passed her bedroom door. Slipping it out of my pocket, I entered her room. There were shoes scattered across the floor and the bed was unmade, no doubt from her rushing around earlier. Knowing that she’d check her dresser, I set her book just there. However, I noticed a small, rectangular beige box already sitting there. I would have left it alone until I saw my name written on it. My hand reached out to pick up the box, but I stopped. It’s probably a present, I thought. I shouldn’t open it until it’s given to me. So, with a small hum of uncertainty, I left the bedroom.

Contrary to popular belief, I actually have a pretty simplistic fashion sense. It was nowhere near as bold as Stan’s, and I suppose that’s why we were seen as an odd pair, but I had just a bit more flare than my fellow peers. Everyone was just a copy-and-paste version of each other. They wore the same skinny jeans, the same fitted shirts, the same sneakers. While I never wore bright yellows and greens, I still hadn’t conformed to the everyday go-to fashion line that was their “hot” or “cute”. Besides, Brownsville was so boring, everything and everyone there was so one-dimensional. It only made sense that their choice in clothing was the same. What I’m trying to say is that people thought I had a bold fashion sense because I simply dressed differently, but it was simply how we dressed in my hometown in Kansas. I think Stan would have fit in at home.

I was a back-and-forth routine from my dresser to my bed, texting Dina as I readied myself for Ricky’s party that night. Apparently, she had Sydney over at her house, the two getting ready together. I didn’t have a problem with it, as long as Dina was still picking me up. She informed me that she had just gotten Syd into a cute top that would show more skin than she usually did. Despite not really being her friend, knowing that Sydney was leaving her comfort zone, as small of a step as it was, had me smiling at my phone, However, that smile dropped at the next text Dina sent.

Dina: Omg you HAVE to look cute for Ricky tonight

I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt.

Me: I don’t get dressed up for boys anymore. I do it for myself

And it was true. When Ricky and I dated, I felt as though I had to look the part of the trophy he presented to everyone. I wore clothes I normally didn’t, I wore more makeup, smiled more. Even if they were faked. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like pretending, but Ricky didn’t seem to mind. He’d simply point out that he “liked the new look”. Well, I’ve changed. My half year solitude in Kansas taught me self-awareness, and I became aware that I am fucking hot. So, I did look cute that night, but not for Ricky. I did it for my own pleasure. And I hoped they all liked the new look.

Of course, my go-to bottoms were black high-waisted jeans that stopped just above my navel, paired with a red long-sleeved crop top. To match, I added in little black and red clips in my hair and dusted black eyeshadow on my lids. Afterwards, I stepped in front of my mirror to admire my work. I remember my mom telling me when I was young that looking in the mirror will tell you everything you hope to see in yourself, and I agree with that to some extent. But looking at myself in that moment told me that, despite how shitty I felt on a daily basis, I was more than deserving of reveling in my new adaptation. I wasn’t at my happiest, and lord knows I’m still screwed up, but at least I knew who I was. I wasn’t some angry, emotional ball of anxiety, deprived of parental love. Yes, I was turned away from my father more than ever at that point, but I had realized where all the love for me resided. I was someone’s daughter, someone’s sister, someone’s best friend.

Someone’s girlfriend.

Or whatever the hell we were supposed to be.

Hearing my phone ping, I picked it up and read the text from Dina.

Dina: We’re here

Tucking my phone into my pocket, I slipped on some white sneakers and grabbed Ricky’s present off my vanity before dashing downstairs. I opened the door to find Dina and Sydney standing together on my doorstep. Upon seeing me, their jaws dropped. “Whoa, you look… hot.” Syd raised her brows, and I couldn’t help but smile at her approval. Dina chuckled and nodded.

“Yeah, (Y/N), you always seem to surprise us…”

“I try my best.” I stepped out of the house and locked the front door before facing the two. “Let’s party, shall we?”

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

Music thumped from the inside of the house as we approached the driveway, some party goers trickling inside. Sydney, Dina and I all stopped in the middle of the driveway, staring up at Ricky’s house. The two seemed excitedly anxious, but I felt as if I was going to hurl my guts up. The last time I had been in that house wasn’t the most pleasurable experience.

He can’t and won’t do that to you again, (Y/N).

What I would give to go back in time to warn her.

“Shit…” Sydney breathed.

“Okay, I’m scared, but fun scared,” Dina nodded, glancing between me and Syd. “Like we’re about to skydive for the first time or something.”

“Well, I’m not fun scared.” Syd turned her gaze back to the house.

“Me neither…” My voice was just above a whisper.

“Feels like we’re about to be eaten by wolves, like… really drunk, judgemental wolves.”

A moment of silence for all confidence lost.

“We’re gonna be fine,” Dina decided. “I just wish I could inject vodka directly into my veins first.”

“I do have this.” Syd smiled and pulled out a flask. Dina and I grinned before the former took it from her best friend. She took a hearty gulp from the flask before handing it over to me. Not wanting to get too drunk just yet, I took a few sips and handed the flask back to its owner. Once we were fueled up, we headed inside. I’d spent so many hours in Ricky’s house, but so few of those hours were spent partying. The most people I’d seen in his home were about six, including me. That was when he brought me over for dinner the first time and both his older brothers attended. What a waste that dinner was. I led the two up the stairs, kindly waving at my peers who called out to me. Most of them complimented my outfit, to which I quietly thanked. As we entered the main room, the volume of the music and the voices increased so that I was swimming in my surroundings.

“Dina!” I heard Ricky call out. The three of us turned to the birthday boy as he approached us. “Welcome to the madness!”

“Hey.” Dina smiled. His eyes then slid over to me, his own smile brightening.

“And Zip… God, you look great. Really great.”

“Thanks, Ricky. Happy birthday.” I nodded before letting him pull me into his side. I placed a hand on his chest to steady myself as his head turned to Sydney, as if she’d just walked in and didn’t appear with us.

“Hey. Hey. Oh, gosh, don’t tell me. I know it. I know this one.” He acted as if he were trying so hard to remember his own classmate’s name. I rolled my eyes and removed my hand from his chest. Sydney slowly nodded her head, giving him just a bit more time to “think” before answering.

“Sydney.”

“Right! I thought it started with an S, yeah. Well, you guys go enjoy, alright? Zip, why don’t you come and party with me?”

“Oh, well, um…,” My gaze shifted from Ricky’s smile to Dina’s slight frown. Sighing, I gestured for the two to go. “I’ll find you guys later. Have fun.”

“You, too.” They replied simultaneously before Ricky pulled me away to a group of friends. As we walked, I handed the little box over to him.

“Got you something.”

“Awe, babe, you shouldn’t have.” He lightly laughed and took the box into his hands. His eyes widened when he opened it to reveal a gold watch he’d been talking about for awhile. He claimed his father wouldn’t let him buy it because Ricky needed to stop spending so much money on himself. It wasn’t very expensive, so I thought it’d be as good a present as any. With child-like giddiness, he slapped the watch onto his wrist before kissing my cheek. “(Y/N), you are the most thoughtful girl in this world.”

Why did my heart skip a beat? “It was nothing, Ricky… You always go all-out for me, so…” There was no part of me that actually liked Ricky. Remember that. I think the liquor from earlier had just gotten to me. With a soft sigh, he hugged me from behind and walked me to a nearby table where boxes of pizza were displayed.

“You hungry?”

“I am, actually…”

My time spent at Ricky’s party felt as if I were on a mission. Mission Ignore Ricky. He was attached to me the whole time, arm around the bare of my waist, around my shoulders. It was like he needed to be certain that I was still there. That he could still look at me. Everytime I tried to go and find Syd and Dina, he pulled me right back into his side. My only solution was to drink heavily. Whenever someone offered to refill my cup, I accepted. If someone handed over a can of beer, I took it. A shot? Hell yes, count me in! Anything to drown out the sound of his voice in my ears. I’m not a lightweight, so it takes awhile for my haze to kick in. When it did, I was a smiling mess, nodding along to everything everyone said. In my underwater state, I could faintly make out Ricky referring to me as his girlfriend in conversations with his friends. With a grunt, I lazily slapped his shoulder, eliciting laughter amongst them. Within ten minutes, a Rick Springfield song that everyone collectively liked started up in the speakers. We all cheered and began dancing. I happily laughed as Ricky rested his hands on my hips, the two of us grooving to the music. He shook his head as he marveled at my drunken state.

“I’ve missed this…”

“Getting drunk?”

“No. Your smile. Your laugh,” He leaned forward. “I’ve missed you.”

“That’s so… poetic.” I whispered, causing a quiet laugh to escape his throat. My eyes slid to the right to find Stan. My breathing quickened at the sight of him in a baby blue suit, sitting alone on a couch with Dina and Syd dancing together in front of him. How I wished to be over there… Especially when he looked up and locked eyes with mine. All of the air in my lungs was kicked out at the relieved smile he gave me, and I breathed out in the same emotion. He’s here…

Ricky suddenly looked up over my head, an even wider smile stretching across his face. “Bra-a-ad! You made it!” He exclaimed and walked the both of us over to his best friend. The two high-fived as I blinked rapidly, as if I’d sober up from it.

“Dude, I had to come,” Brad smiled before his attention moved to me. “Zip, hey!”

“Hey.”

“Did you come here with Dina?”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s… um, dancing or something.” I giggled. Brad nodded with a raised brow.

“Someone’s been havin’ fun, huh?” He chuckled before I felt Ricky turn away.

“Hey, everyone! Bradley Lewis in the house!” He announced, cheers erupting from the party participants. They all cheered for a speech, which I found unnecessary, but leaned my head on Ricky’s shoulder as I listened to Brad quiet everyone.

“Eighteen years and nine months ago today, George Reginald Berry and his sweet wife Carol-”

“That’s not their names.” Ricky shook his head in amusement, everyone quietly laughing with him.

“They were drinkin’ a little bit of pinot grig’, and they were blastin’ some Neil Diamond. And then nine months later, Richard “Dickwad” Berry was born. And thank god for that because the Berrys’ birthday parties are the fucking best! To Ricky, everybody!”

With the cheers that followed, I found it to be my perfect time for escape. I slipped away from Ricky and squeezed through countless bodies to reach the back door. Stumbling outside, I caught myself on the railing towards the stairs that led off the deck. With difficulty, my wobbly legs took me down to the side of the house, where my hero was leaning against, readying a joint. There was no doubt my ceaseless giggling was what attracted his attention. He chuckled and watched as I stumbled towards him, falling into his side. Stan wrapped an arm around me as I laughed.

“Hey, there, lovely.”

“Hi, beautiful.” I grinned up at him, eyes half lidded. His brows drew down for a moment before he remembered his occupied hand. Removing his arm from around me, he took out his lighter, setting a flame to the end of his joint. I watched in fascination as he inhaled the smoke with closed eyes. His curls sat on his forehead, his lips pursed around the joint, his other arm made its way around my shoulders again. I rested my chin on his shoulder before he passed the smoke to me. I happily took a hit and let the peaceful silence fall between us for the five seconds that it lasted.

“So, you and Ricky… How’s that going?”

“How’s what going?” I mumbled.

“You know, you guys dating. It’s what he’s telling everyone.”

“Oh, my god, I knew he was telling everyone!” I groaned and ran a hand over my face. “I’m so sick of that. He can’t just... f-fucking, um… fucking lie to everyone like that! We are not dating, we’ve never even talked about it! What the hell, dude… I don’t even get why he’s so in love with me, Stan…”

He didn’t reply at first, but when I looked up, I realized it was because he was smoking. When he pulled the joint from his lips, he stared forward. “I mean, he’s got someone amazing, if you guys were actually dating. Believe it or not, (Y/N), you’re the coolest person I’ve ever met. And you’re fun and humorous and so driven. You’ve got these huge dreams and you’ll follow every single one of them… I’d be pretty proud if you were my girlfriend,” The second he looked down at me, I giggled loudly. He blushed and moved his eyes to the side. “I-I’m- I’m serious!”

Elevating myself with my toes, I closed the gap between us in a sloppy kiss. I could taste the alcohol on his lips and I was sure he could taste the same on mine. My hands reached up and placed themselves on his cheeks. I felt him lean more into the kiss for a second before he quickly ripped himself away, as if he were just burned. He blinked over and over as I tried to settle my blurry vision on him. Shaking his head, he sighed.

“(Y/N), you’re drunk.”

“I’m drunk.”

“Yeah, we can’t do this.” He seemed to be telling himself more than to me. I pouted and loosely wrapped my arms around him.

“I love you, Stan…”

“I love you, too, but I think you should get inside and find Dina.” He ushered me to the stairs and watched as I carefully planted my foot on the first step.

“Okay… I’m sorry, Stan.”

“You’re fine, I promise.”

“Okay. I’m gonna go inside, okay? You’re gonna be okay out here by yourself, okay? Okay?” I widened my eyes when he didn’t immediately answer. He let out a short laugh and turned me around again.

“Alright, go inside and find Dina.”

“‘Kay. I love you, Stan.”

“I love you, too. I’m gonna stand here and watch you go.”

“Have fun.” I sang and ungracefully made my way up the stairs and back inside the house.

Apologizing to the many people I bumped into, I found myself in the hallway, in between the bedrooms. My head felt like it weighed tons, my eyes wanted to close so badly. I felt a hand on my shoulder and leaned into the body behind me.

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

My head whirled around to find Ricky behind me. I felt myself deflate in disappointment. “Hey, Ricky…”

“Where’ve you been, babe?”

“Oh, I was talking to my friend outside.” I grinned at the thought of Stan. Ricky raised a brow in amusement and I quickly covered my mouth as to not let the moment between Stan and I slip out. His dark brown orbs flickered between me and the door behind me before he gently took hold of my arm.

“Let’s go somewhere private, okay?”

“Okay.” I whispered, allowing him to guide me wherever. Before I knew it, we were in a room. I heard the click of a lock from behind before Ricky was suddenly in front of me. My head swam as I surveyed my surroundings, quickly realizing we were in his bedroom. “Oh, what are we doing?”

“Shh, shh, don’t worry about it.” He whispered. I hummed a little tune as I felt his hands move to my exposed skin, tracing little shapes. He littered my jaw in small kisses as he discarded my top. I shivered and wrapped my arms around my torso for warmth.

“Ricky, what are we doing?” I repeated as he popped the button of my jeans loose. Gasping, I moved his hands away. “No, no… I don’t want to…” I weakly protested.

“No, it’s okay, babe, it’s okay.” He shushed me. I felt myself fall back into his cool bed sheets. I blinked slowly. Once, his ceiling. Twice, his ceiling. Thrice, him. He was on top of me, my pants were gone, and his hands were travelling places I never wanted them to be. I let out a whine of protest, but he clearly took it as pleasure.

“Ricky…” I sighed out as his finger hooked under my bra strap. “Don’t… Stop…” I squirmed under him, both my stupor and high clouding my consciousness.

I don’t remember it. I don’t remember how it felt. I just didn’t like it. I didn’t like Ricky.

Sunlight pierced my eyelids as I felt warm lips on my forehead. I opened my eyes to find Ricky, fully dressed in different clothing than I last saw him in. He was holding out a glass of water and a couple pills. “For your head.”

“My head?” I whined, but hissed right when a splitting headache spread across my skull. I sat up, holding my head. My body was suddenly freezing cold and when I went to wrap my arms around myself, I saw that I was bare. Gasping, I clutched Ricky’s covers over me. “Oh, my god…”

“Yeah,” Ricky chuckled and set the medicine down. “We were so drunk last night… Anyway, I wanna take you out for brunch, so you should start getting ready. You can wear my clothes, babe.” He spoke as he headed out of the room, closing the door behind him. My eyes travelled to my undergarments on the floor not too far from the bed.

Fuck.

—————————————

Taglist: @melinda-hargreeves @sapphicsyn @stqnley @lonely-kermit @juliet-does-not-give-a-fuck @moatsnow

[deannaroxannewrites]

Tropetember Day 9 - Historical (Regency, Ancient Greece/Rome, Prehistory etc.) / Modern / Futuristic AU

Mr Hotchner, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance (Regency AU)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader (dresses, mention of becoming an old maid)

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Rating: General Audiences

TW: None

AN: Day 9 of @tropetember. Yet another Hotch story that could be expanded into a small series. Not sure how effective it is a Regency piece? Any feedback would be much appreciated.

A widower with a good fortune and a son moves into the nearby great estate. Will that be any concern of yours?

Find this story on Ao3 here.

Word Count: 1.5k

When Jane Austen observed that a young man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife, she was not incorrect. The question is whether all of those criteria needed to be met for similar conclusions to be made of men in similar circumstances.

Mr Hotchner, whilst in possession of good fortune, could no longer be classed as young, being in his mid-thirties. To further complicate matters, he was a widower and had a child from his first match.

When the inhabitants of the surrounding area became acquainted with the details of the new owner of the neighbouring great estate, they too were unsure. Some claimed he would be past his prime, grief would likely have ruined him, left crags upon his face and aged him beyond his years. Others, notably those with unwed daughters, argued that a mother figure for his son and match for himself would only increase the happiness and imagined handsomeness of the fine gentleman due to enter the parish.

As it is in most cases, neither party was entirely correct. On his arrival into the county, he was noted to be a handsome man, but he never smiled. He was charming and generous, but rarely spoke unless questioned. He may be improved by feminine influence, but did not seem to be in the market for such.

Whilst you were aware of the excitement of the new neighbour, you chose not involve yourself in the fray. At nearly 29, your future as an old maid had been declared by the villagers for many years. You were lucky that your younger brother was set to inherit your fathers modest estate upon his passing. You knew your brother would continue to look after you, and in return you did what you could to help your family in the day to day.

You had been so disconnected from the gossip, that it came as a surprise when your father notified you that the family had been invited to the estate for dinner and cards. Mr Hotchner was hosting one of his friends, Sir David Rossi, and it was apparently at his suggestion that the event was conceived.

As usual before an engagement, you select a nice dress, a new one you had been treated to a few weeks earlier, made of fine fabrics and with lace trim. Your maid, Sarah, had helped you style your hair and by the end of it, even you would agree that you looked pretty. You’d never be a beauty, but you were looking your best in the spring of your late bloom.

The carriage ride to the estate was quiet. Your brother mainly discussed business with your father as your mother and yourself admired the countryside. This admiration only grew as you entered the estate’s gardens. They were spectacular. A balanced combination of wilderness and cultivation.

Pulling up, you all clambered from the carriage and were led into the house by one of the servants. Inside, a modest party of the foremost members of the neighbourhood were gathered and you greeted them as you entered. It was not until around 5 minutes later that Mr Hotchner and his friend entered.

He was very handsome, something the slightly severe expression on his face could not hide. You could not help but watch as he slowly made his way around the room. He had a very authoritative presence, but not in an arrogant or rude way. It seemed more that he was aware of his role and status.

It was not long until it was your turn to be introduced to him. You curtsied and shyly met his eyes as you rose back to full height. For the first time in many years, you felt your breath catch slightly.

Your eyes were drawn away from Mr Hotchner’s as Sir David was also introduced to you. He was older than his companion, with a well maintained beard and a gentle grin resting on his features. He was also effortlessly charming but in a more extroverted manner than his friend.

You conversed with the pair for a while, polite conversation you make with new acquaintances about how they are enjoying the area and settling and such. It is not until dinner is called that you’re reluctantly separated. Good conversationalists were sorely lacking in this part of the world and you were already looking forward to getting to know them.

Dinner was a tasty and lively affair, with many laughs and much conversation. Afterwards the gentlemen separate off to have their whisky, leaving the women to gossip and you to nip out to answer the call of nature.

On your way back, you are met with an unexpected sight.

At the bottom of the main staircase stands a young boy in a dressing gown, stuffed toy in hand. Seeing that he looks upset, you slowly approach him and smile gently.

“Hello” you greet him. “Are you well?” you ask the little boy, not wanting to crowd him but unsure why he is upset.

He shakes his head shyly and his eyes stay trained on the floor. It breaks your heart a little.

Bobbing down, you pull a handkerchief from the hidden pocket in your dress to gently wipe his tears. Once they’re cleared away, you introduce yourself to him.

He reaches out a hand as his manners kick. “I’m Jack Hotchner. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

His voice isn’t full bodied but it’s a good start.

“Well, what a polite young gentleman.” He smiles at you for the compliment and holds himself a little taller. “Where might you be heading this late at night.”

“I," he pauses, "I want to see my father.”

You nod your head.

“Of course young sir” you give a theatrical bow to offer your hand to him which makes him giggle as he takes hold, “follow me.”

You head down to the room you saw the men head into and knock gently, hearing Mr Hotchner call for you to enter.

Gently pushing the door, you answer his questioning expression. “I found someone in the entrance hall who wished to see you.” He looks concerned until he spots his son’s head peeking around you. His face breaks out into a large smile which makes him appear far more youthful than you would have guessed. Sir David’s tales of him being a heartbreaker may not be as exaggerated as you first believed.

He greets the young boy, taking his hands as he lowers himself to his son’s level to ask what is wrong. On discovery of Jack having had a nightmare, he brings him into the room, thanking you for looking after him and releasing you to head back to the ladies.

Your mother immediately corners you upon your return and you do your best to divert her by claiming to have been appreciating the art decorating the corridors. It is not necessarily a lie, the house itself is beautiful enough itself to be considered such, but you doubt Mr Hotchner would appreciate you sharing his son’s nightmares with people who are strangers to him.

You do not have to distract your mother for long thankfully, as the gentlemen soon return and card tables are drawn up. There are slightly too many people for everyone to play so you offer to sit out and take a seat on a nearby settee with one of the books from the shelves. You are slightly surprised when a small body, now dressed in his father’s suit jacket, settles on the cushion next to you.

As you entertain the young Hotchner, you are unaware of the discussion taking place across the room.

“She seems good with him,” observes Sir David, deliberately keeping his voice down and pretending to contemplate his cards.

Mr Hotchner shoots him a withering glance before allowing, “she does. In general, she seems like a lovely woman. I am glad we have made her acquaintance.”

Sir David hums as his gaze drifts back to you, now teaching the young boy some sort of clapping game. “You know, I would be rather upset with you if you were not to throw a ball before I am to leave for London.”

“I believe you are meddling again Sir David,” Mr Hotchner plays a card as he continues, “but I will speak to the staff tomorrow about organising one.”

“You will be expected to dance, since you are hosting.”

Despite not normally being one to give into his friends' schemes, Mr Hotchner nods, eyes once again fixed on you.

“I’m sure I can find someone suitable,” he says and at that moment your eyes meet his. Yes, he thinks, he is sure you will dance as beautifully as you smile.

[heyitsbugette]

Heart and soul

Not even everything in training that Damian Wayne was subjected to in the league of assassins nor the eccentricity of living as the only biological son of Bruce Wayne have prepared him for his greatest threat.

Luka Couffaine.

Anyone with eyes could see that there was a certain attraction on behalf of the heir for the sweet daughter of the best bakers in Paris, who with her kindness and charms she captivated the cold heart of the Prince of Gotham. And more than once Jason Todd joked with Tom Dupain about how it made a lot of sense for such a sweet girl to come straight out of a bakery, occasionally amusingly saying that the Dupain-Cheng kitchen was magical.

It was really confusing when the Robin was puzzled and stressed by feel tamed in the presence of his angel and surprisingly with the famous heroine Ladybug as well. Of course, he was teased until it all made sense to them, when together they find out the identity of the spotted heroine by Raven's deductions, his closest friend and ex-girlfriend. 

Raven, annoyed by the cowardice of her best friend, motivated him to go after his beloved right away. The youngest of the Wayne clan then did not know whether to feel grateful or offended when in the end he decided to heed the advice of the young woman of serious features.

His angel through his eyes became more and more perfect after the revelation, she knew how to fight and he did not need it to defend herself, Damian Wayne undoubtedly loved strong women. Such was their surprise when The Jagged Stone invited them by Marinette suggestion to reveal his pupil to them, the very one musician who he secretly hid under his wing for an entire year to prepare him to his debut, a boy with the ferocity of a pirate and the intelligence of a predator to words of the number one rocker in lists.

— Luka is somewhat shy at first, but when my little starlight introduced us I knew that the boy was born to succeed... Come on, dude! I mean-... Bruce, I guarantee that our collaboration between Wayne Enterprises, Rolling Stone Company and MDC will be legendary.

— I trust you, Jagged.

The fierceness in the artist's words could be seen for miles, convincing everyone with his confidence, and if the boy turns out to be as talented as they claimed, the launch of Anarka's son could generate a few million if his strategy worked. Bruce, by the way, looked amused despite the fact that his facial expression did not help at all to demonstrate it, always with his expressionless face and a curious gaze direct to his new partner.

But he could not speak in the same way for his children and how they were inusually calm, the ones who had always admired the singer were nervous with his presence, to the point that they were strangely silent behind him as they followed them, which was suspicious for the family's patriarch, they were not so well-mannered, but always noisy.

Damian, on the other hand, although he found Jagged's company pleasant, he had little mind in the older man's new human toy, he did not have time to be interested in another spoiled child with ambitions of glory and fame, because he only agreed to accompany his family for two reasons.

First and foremost, Marinette would be there. Second, he wanted to visit Fang, he had a great appreciation for the playful crocodile.

— Hey B! So will we finally meet the star boy they all were talking about so much?

— Indeed, Jason. Marinette arranged everything with Miss Rolling and they agreed on a small presentation to close the deal.

— Oh, cool.

The youngest of the clan hid his smile at the mere mention of his muse, heading to the recording studio where they took a seat next to some investors while Luka Couffaine was in front in his maximum glory on the stage, being assisted by a small French-Chinese girl who arranged his clothes meticulously between whispers that were dedicated, they seemed close. They laughed together as they whispered, as if they shared a local joke that only the two of them could understand, but it was when she blushed that the frown of Bruce Wayne's son became more noticeable.

No one with eyes could deny the obvious, Jagged's protegé was conventionally handsome; his seductive blue eyes that saw through his lens, a winning and playful smile. Although the boy was tall and slender, it was obvious that he was not a weakling at all, he had the figure in slim-fit, quite strange cause Couffaine had not exactly the kind of the lifestyle of an athlete.

Along with it, dark hair dyed in turquoise tips and aesthetic piercings adorning his ears up to the side of the helix. The guy in question have quite the look, dressed to impress in a grunge outfit designed precisely by MDC especially for him, he had a style that Jason Todd would say "You got it, brother!".

— Marinette, honey, stop. I think Luka looks handsome already.

— Oh, Miss Penny. He doesn't even need my help for that.

After so tender flirting, the aforementioned blushed noticeably in the same red shade that the heir saw in his furious vision. Did his angel flirt with another boy? But, It's not like he could demand explanations from her and he knew it, they weren't a couple or anything remotely similar. Yes, they were close and they spent a lot of time together, but if he saw it objectively she was not his.

Without option he was able to recover his composure ignoring the mocking smile that his older brothers gave him, he looked uncomfortable. But surely Marinette just wanted to be nice and give her friend a compliment to brighten his day only, that's the kind of person she was.

— Come on, Luka!

His mentor indicated as he launched himself into his couch while Penny sat next to him taking his hand. Both saw themselves as a pair of proud parents attentive to each movement that the guitarist made to prepare, the latter meanwhile looking out of the corner of his eye attentive to the little French girl with tender freckles inadvertently present, since of course she was his motivation .

His actions were unnoticed by everyone except for a certain green eyed boy who still did not trust the musician. He knew his kind, womanizers who went from girl to girl breaking hearts left and right, of course he only wanted to protect his angel from a guy who didn't even deserve to breathe her own air.

The punk man was... Like his father, sure. Or so he wanted to believe.

Oh! Yeah, Alright… Mmmm.

Gather 'round guys

It's time to start listening

Practice makes perfect

But perfect's not workin'

There's a lot more to music

That knowing where your cue's gonna be.

Okay, okay. The guy knows how to sing without the need for auto-tune, he gives it to him. But he wouldn't admit it, flattering the enemy is something that would never be available; he would not dedicate him the mere weakness of raising his ego.

Marinette deserves the best, which is indisputable to the dark-haired teen, and such was his victory when his angel realized the same thing when she moved on off the spinleless coward who was Adrien Agreste. Luckily Luka Couffaine would not last a day.

You can play all the right notes

But that don't mean you're movin' me

But if you can jump like David Lee Roth

Or pump your fist like you're Bruce "The Boss"

Bruce was perplexed at his mention, watching amused as the teenager endorsed the stage listeing with pleasure the laughter of the iconic artist who was stroking the crocodile that was rubbing on his legs. Marinette held back so as not to shout in support of Luka with the same passion with which he cheered her up when she triumphed, a star-shaped sparkle in her eyes was present with no intention of leaving.

If you got a heart and soul

You can rock and roll                        

Rock and roll

The American tried to no be disappointed when he noticed that she was not even aware of his presence, but would not allow anyone else to know it, he would be weak to allow the rookie musical to affect him because of how well he grabed the attention of his beloved heroine.

He wouldn't give his annoying siblings the pleasure of driving him out of his box, although Dick was close enough to get him by keep looking at him with pity. No, he don't need anyone's pity.

Strum it

Drum it

Slide across and run it

The stage is your home

If you learn how to own it

Like the greats did

There's no way that you can fake it

Just when he thought the half asian girl would continue to ignore him during the entire performance, he didn't count on her swapping seats with the pesky Drake to position herself next to him. Being impossible for the vigilante not to melt before her happy smile and with her gaze outlining that perfect silhouette that he would be fascinated to paint, he would not deny that she was his art, his source of inspiration.

— I'm so happy for Luka, Dami. You have no idea how hard he has worked.

— He's a lucky guy... I suppose.

She took his hand, pressing it a little against hers as she tried to suppress the emotion of seeing Luka start his career, how shes sitll as always emotional and enthusiastic when someone she loved achieve them goals, crying with them with joy when them dreams came true.

Such was the youngest of the Dupain-Cheng family, Damian experienced it first hand with each accomplishment that he got culminated. His angel always received him with some well made dessert and words of encouragement to encourage him to continue working hard.

That's the type of person she is.

You've got to feel the beat before you can move

Even though you're not wearing blue suede shoes

Makin' mistakes, but that won't matter

If you can swagger like old' pal Jagged

If you got a heart and soul

You can rock and roll

You can rock and roll

If you live and you die

For the music inside

If the one for five never gets sold

Then you can rock and roll

Rock and roll

Luka playfully looked at his idol when he made reference to him in his lyrics, and this one who just left his seat at once to raise his hands in celebration, exclaiming proudly pointed out with determination, as he pull out a Bruce Wayne before the amused gaze of the brothers. He then gave way to a guitar solo finally performed with great technique, heating up the meeting in which investors fully convinced to invest in the musical prodigy.

— That's my kid, you lil shits!

Instead, unsurprisingly, the only one unimpressed was the legitimate heir to Wayne Enterprises. He rolled his eyes thinking that the oldest was a stocking sucker, a mere flattering of cute words and empty feelings.

Someone like that couldn't make his ladybug happy.

However, seeing her so delighted now releasing her hand to take herself putting bot hands in her own cheeks by giving them little taps to lower her blush was the final blow for him to declare his total displeasure to the amateur musician. Wayne hated that feeling of bitterness, so he huffed angrily.

Alright, now take it low.

Now I need my sunshine girl, right here, as the crowd starts to cheer.

Don’t take it personal, mate. Don’t get too emotional.

You know how It is...

"How dare you?! Do you want to die young or what?!" He saw red, of course, the fuckboy is flirting with his marigold in front of him, the nerve. And of course, the musician smiled when he saw him getting angry, it was clear that this was just a game, a provocation on how he was playing with him, only as a Couffaine could when fooling around with the object of his entertainment. 

He loved being loved and hated, it was fun.

— Uh ... We'll soon bury him, right?

— Yup.

Jason whispered to his brothers when they noticed the contained fury of the minor among them, they knew that once provoked the assassin prince there would be no human power to stop him.

Rest in peace, Luka Couffaine. Good friend, good artist. We will remember you for what you were, champion.

If you can scream like Axl Rose

Or sing like Christina show after show

If you've got a heart and soul

You can rock and roll

If you've got a heart and soul

You can rock and roll

You can rock and roll

Ooh, yeah

You can rock and roll.

The performance ended with an innocent smile and an expectant look on behalf of the vocalist as soon as his fingers finished with the last chord of his guitar, so when he took it off he received the energetic baker's daughter in his arms who embraced him warmly when the high command of the label gave their approval of him.

Luka Couffaine would be the next star, the exotic apprentice of the living rock legend and MDC designs' most precious jewel.

Get moving, Austin Moon! Who knows you, XY ?!

— I told you! You did It, you idiot!

— Oe, oe! I must learn better than to doubt your trust in me, ma mélodie.

Tender giggles were heard from the girl's mouth as she hid her face in the teenager boy's chest, aggressively grabbing the lapels of his leather jacket in a desperate attempt to hide her blush at such a loving nickname. Then when looking away and raising her face to meet the relaxed features of the French guy, both succumbed to sharing a giggle at the moment when in a change of position the aspiring soloist kissed the back of the young woman's hand, who he regarded her as his most ingenious symphony.

Little did they know that a certain person burned with anger looking around him in red, after all he thought that he was the only person who made her smile like that. The green-eyed felt weak from falling to something as gross as jealousy, but no one had prepared him to endure a suave musician.

— Heya, pixie pop! Would you mind introducing your friend to us?

—Ah, Jay-Jay! I longed to present you all for a long time.

Luckily, it was the albino tuft guy who intervened to sneakily separate the couple, putting himself in the middle of both while embossing a charming smile and a relaxed expression on his face.

— Sup kid! Here's Jason Todd. You know, the cool one. And these idiots next to me are my brothers...This one at my right is Tim Drake, the coffee rat. And the other one with the stupid face is Dick Grayson, the dick. Oh, and the dwarf is lil D-...

— Damian Wayne.

Suddenly the mentioned one appeared, narrowing his eyes challengingly during the brief exchange of glances he shared with the artist in a non-verbal competition. Too bad the guitarist didn't know he was competing.

— Enchanté, guys. Mon trésor told me a lot about you.

"Ma mélodie? Mon trésor? Yah, this guy is asking for it… ” He chattered his teeth in anger and even without trusting the intentions of the stranger man, as he said before, he knew the ones of his type. Young rock stars were all the same.

— Guys.. This is Luka Couffaine ... My boyfriend.

Has anyone heard that? It seems that something broke slowly inside the american heir as how Damian could almost hear Kagami Tsurugi whispered on his mind: "You hesitated."

Heart and soul - The Jonas Brothers

[aion-rsa]

Why Wonder Woman’s Real Origin Story Lies in First Wave Feminism

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

This holiday season, one of the few bright spots for families unable to go to theaters—and even those who did—was Patty Jenkins’ Wonder Woman 1984. An ambitious and vibrantly colored celebration of heroism in all its forms, including those that don’t end in fistfights, it’s a superhero movie that’s won as many fans as detractors. But while basking in the new spectacle is well and good, it’s also worth considering how it came to be. For even in this HBO Max tentpole, one can still see how the feminist movement of the early 20th century is grafted into the very DNA of the Wonder Woman character, her origin, and even her most contentious iconography… something that rarely gets acknowledged in the broader comic fan community.

The character of Wonder Woman was created by Dr. William Moulton Marston in 1941. A psychologist with an eclectic career, Marston went from inventing the lie detector test while still an undergraduate at Harvard in 1914 to being essentially blacklisted from academia by the age of 33. But of course his most enduring legacy came afterward; it came when he engineered a superheroine intentionally designed to be a great role model for girls and boys.

As Marston famously said, “Frankly, Wonder Woman is psychological propaganda for the new type of woman who, I believe, should rule the world.” However, the actual political and sociological influences on Marston and the women who helped him create Diana are often overlooked, even as the character has come to dominate pop culture.

Marston, rather infamously nowadays, lived a polyamorous lifestyle with his wife Elizabeth Holloway Marston, and a second partner named Olive Byrne. Byrne is often credited in the 21st century as the inspiration for Wonder Woman (instead of a wedding ring, Marston gave her two bracelets that are identical to those worn by Diana Prince). Yet it is very likely that Holloway Marston had just as much influence. After all, she was a lover of Greek antiquity and until her death kept a book of Sappho’s poetry from the island of Lesbos within reach.

Still, it is Byrne’s influence that historian and esteemed Harvard professor, Jill Lepore, most untangles in her riveting portrait of the Marston family, The Secret History of Wonder Woman. Lepore, who holds the title of David Woods Kemper ’41 Professor of History at Cambridge, zeroed in on Byrne’s relation to the early feminist movement at the turn of the century and its impact on Marston, recasting Wonder Woman as a bridge between the suffragist movement and the generation who grew up reading Wonder Woman comics before fighting for the “women’s liberation movement.”

Olive Byrne was born in 1904, the daughter of Ethel Byrne and the niece of Margaret Sanger, the latter of whom founded what became known as Planned Parenthood (Margaret also coined the term “birth control”). In 1916, Ethel and Margaret opened in Brooklyn the first United States birth control clinic, and received jail time at a workhouse for their trouble. There Ethel nearly starved to death while going on a hunger strike. During this time, a 12-year-old Olive Byrne was being raised in a Catholic orphanage because her father and grandparents had died, and Ethel Byrne was not interested in raising her daughter.

Despite their absence, Olive held her mother and aunt’s politics in high regard. And those ideals would reverberate in Wonder Woman comics too. They were thoughts informed by the circle of New York intellectuals and early 20th century socialists Margaret and Ethel interacted with in Greenwich Village. Among their contemporaries were Upton Sinclair, Emma Goldman, and a very notable Lou Rogers.

Lou was actually named Annie Lucasta Rogers, but because she was told she couldn’t get work as a woman cartoonist, she initially submitted her work as “Lou” via the mail. Her historic drawings of women being able to finally break off the shackles of patriarchy by using the right to vote are echoed throughout Marston’s Wonder Woman comics, just as much as the author’s own fascination with male and female domination and submission.

In the 1910s, feminists and suffragist literature was rife with Amazonian imagery that would live again in the pages of DC. For example, Max Eastman published in 1913 a book of verse called Child of the Amazons and Other Poems. In it, an Amazonian girl must confess to her queen that she has fallen in love with a man. Yet Amazonian law forbids any warrior to marry or bear children until she has produced significant change in the world. Thus the young Amazon abandons her romance, stating she won’t seek love again until “the far age when men shall cease / their tyranny.” This is echoed in Wonder Woman comics as Diana repeatedly, and flatly, refuses to marry Steve Trevor.

In one classic Marston story, a dopey Steve whines, “Angel, when are we going to be married?” Diana coolly fires back, “When evil and injustice vanish from the Earth!”

More appropriate still is Inez Haynes Gillmore’s Angel Island. Published in 1914, after Gillmore co-founded the National College Equal Suffrage League, Angel Island envisions five American sailors who are shipwrecked on an island that’s crawling with “super-humanly beautiful” women with wings. Driven mad by lust, the men capture the women and cut off their wings, leaving them helpless as none has ever walked with their feet. But eventually one of the angels leads a violent revolution “with the splendid, swinging gait of the Amazon.”

This too echoes early Wonder Woman stories of the heroine being chained or rendered powerless by men who would wish to dominate her in every sense of the word. It is, after all, the fate her mother Hippolyta had to free the Amazons from in bloody battle.

Men trying to chain Diana or rob her of her powers by either bounding her bracelets together or removing them was also a common occurrence in ‘40s Wonder Woman comics, particularly those authored by  Marston. In one memorable Marston story, a man unaware that Diana Prince is Wonder Woman even chains her to a stove so she cannot leave the kitchen. Diana retorts with a smirk, “How thrilling! I see you’re chaining me to the cookstove. What a perfect caveman idea!”

The year of 1915, meanwhile, saw the publication of Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s Herland, another feminist tale of an uncharted utopia of only women. For thousands of years, this lost paradise’s women have reproduced asexually, not unlike how Diana is born to Hippolyta in the comics after the Amazonian Queen sculpts her out of clay. These women of “herland” know nothing of fear, war, or even basic concepts of property. Unfortunately, three male American students find them and fall in love, each marrying one woman. But then each is thunderstruck that they cannot consummate their relationship whenever they want. In this thinly veiled allegory about the need for birth control, two of the men are banished when one tries to rape his wife, and another expresses confusion as to how rape can be a crime in marriage.

“The women [of Herland] are Amazons because, in the nineteen-teens, reporters routinely used the name to describe suffragists,” Lepore said in a recent article in The New Yorker. “So did suffragists themselves in both the U.K. and the U.S., including Elizabeth Holloway.”

The writers of these stories were also contemporaries and even sometimes neighbors of Olive’s mother, Ethel. And just as Olive helped introduce a worshipful admiration for her aunt Margaret Sanger and Planned Parenthood to the Marstons, with whom she built an unorthodox home, so too did she seemingly inform (along with Holloway Marston’s love for antiquity) what became the Wonder Woman origin story, which was recently given new life by Jenkins and Gal Gadot in 2017’s Wonder Woman.

There is of course the question of whether the new movies fully embrace these legacies. Lepore, for one, is skeptical, writing in 2020 that “Patty Jenkins seems to be interested in history… But she’s apparently not at all interested in the history of women: it’s got no place in either of her two ‘Wonder Woman’ films, even though they both take place during major inflection points in that history.”

However, the hard-won victories of that history, and how Marston seeded the ideals of its first wave into his comics, is still inextricably linked to Gadot’s Wonder Woman. We see it when she stands with a near divinity over Chris Pine on a beach in the 2017 movie, unaware and undisturbed by the preconceived limits a patriarchal society would place on her; and we see it when Wonder Woman can defeat villainy and greed in Wonder Woman 1984 without having to throw a single punch.

So for whatever bondage iconography that also clearly seeped its way into Marston’s creation, there is a definite through-line of a century’s worth of feminist ideals that connect the fantasies of the suffrage movement to the icon of female empowerment that the women’s liberation movement claimed Wonder Woman to be when she was placed on the cover of Gloria Steinem’s Ms. magazine in 1972. And a hundred years later, it lives on like Amazons and angels on the big screen.

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[irishtowriteabook]

🌸Jealousy II

-Natalie Mariduena x David Dobrik-

{Likes and comments are greatly appreciated and really motivate me so if you have a few seconds to spare that would be the definition of awesome! -Ella 💞}

Summary; David throws one of his legendary parties and none other than Liza Koshy, famous (perhaps infamous) ex, is in attendance. This leads to a rather jealous Natalie! Pre-relationship! A tad ooc but you take what you can get in these dark tumultuous times. (That podcast, that video, that disposable camera, gah.)

-

The raucous, often obnoxious, laughter rose from the living room and commuted into each and every room of David’s house. Anyone within a five miles radius could hear the booming music which was on full blast. (Un)luckily for Natalie she was within a fifteen metre radius of the speakers. Which really should be renamed as yellers.

“Shots at the pool table in five y’all!” Zane yelled and danced out the glass patio doorways. Stassie’s fluffy faux feather pink scarf was draped around his neck and Stassie was too.

“Why couldn’t they just do shots at a regular table? Do you know how many times I have to replace misplaced balls?” Natalie sighed out from her place on the couch alongside David. “I’ve got two extra ones here if you need them” He chuckled, shooting her his signature cheeky grin. Natalie rolled her eyes and shoved him gently. “Shut it.” She quipped.

David froze up slightly as Natalie leant her head down onto his shoulder, shifting closer to her. “Gross” He said nervously. The brunette appreciated the warmth radiating from his sturdy frame. She was dressed up in a red jumper, David’s newest merchandise, and black shorts yet she still felt the chill of the biting night breeze.

As she curled her tanned legs up so her knees rested on David’s thigh she wondered how the other girls were lasting. Stassie, Kristen, Erin, Carly, Corinna you name it were all scantily clad in shorts and dresses and glittery tank tops. Natalie’s teeth were chattering and yet they were dancing precariously like no tomorrow atop tabletops and balcony boundaries. They look hot, wandering lustful eyes from the boys proved that, but they must be freezing.

Natalie could see David’s fingers twitching to grab his camera and shoot some footage and yet he stayed alongside her with his arm draped across the back of the couch. She wished he would just wrap it around her should- wait what? “David bro! This party is insane!” Jeff cheered as he and Cody bundled through together to get some drinks. “Nat organised it!” David winked at them and raised his glass of vodka in their general direction. “Good job Natalie!” Erin cheered as she and her fiancé passed on by down the corridor. Natalie let out a tired cheer in response. “Those two better not go in my-“ The door crashed to a close “-bedroom.” David finished with a thin lipped smile.

Natalie tilted her head up to watch him as he chatted animatedly with some other party goers and influencers who she didn’t particularly know that well. David oozed charisma. She admired his smile as he laughed at one of his own jokes (of course).

“Don’t you agree Nat?” He suddenly directed at her and Natalie’s head shot up, a cutely confused look on her face. “Hmm? Yeah yeah! Totally!” She spluttered out and leant her head back down, this time moving it onto David’s toned chest. The soft fabric of his black t-shirt rubbed slightly against her cheek as his frame shook in bellowing laughter.

“Pizza’s here!” Todd cheered, ignoring the glares shot his way from Corinna, sprinting over to the doorway. The flashing lights from the disco ball were so bright Natalie swore she could see them from space if NASA actually followed through on their Twitter proposal. Her eyes fluttered to a close and she shifted in even closer to David, her hand resting limply on his semi solid stomach.

Natalie’s breath caught in her throat as David’s arm suddenly wrapped around her shoulders, bundling her even closer to him. The conversations around her grew fainter as she focused solely on him. David’s thumb stroked her shoulder, an action very unfamiliar to the pair in recent times. Despite the material of the jumper she could still feel her skin heat up from his touches.

She had wanted David to go back to his more openly affectionate self with her for an embarrassing amount of time and now-“Holy shit! That’s not Pizza it’s Liza!” Todd’s voice announced and those surrounding him chuckled.

In a split second David had shrugged away from Natalie and had bounded around the sofa, craning his neck to see his ex girlfriend. Natalie blinked as she struggled to regain her awakeness. Her previously content smile faded as she watched David wrap Liza up in a hug without an ounce of hesitance. ‘Why couldn’t he be like that with me?’

“Liza’s here!” Carly squealed and squeezed Liza’s hand from where it was draped around David’s midriff. The blonde jumped excitedly on the spot. “Now the party is properly started!”

Conversation and laughs arose once more and the music was turned up to the highest notch possible. Natalie sunk back into the couch as David led Liza out into the backyard by her manicured hand. There was no denying that Liza looked killer tonight, her usually curly hair was up in space buns and her babyhair were slicked back. Her red, strapless, leather dress clung to curves that Natalie didn’t even know she had! And her smile was so radiant and happy as she let David introduce her to everyone. Everyone in the house and kitchen seemed to gravitate towards Liza until Natalie was the only one on the couch.

A sting of pain hit her as Natalie noticed David’s hands on Liza’s shoulders. As if sensing Natalie’s eyes on him David made to turn towards her but before he could a longtime fan bounced up to him, phone at the ready.

Natalie sighed as she watched the celebration unfold. Everyone was much too busy dancing and acting up to notice her. Occasionally people would rush into the kitchen for more drinks but no one really took heed of her or her down expression.

Her head tilted downwards and she messed with a thread on the couch. She would have the whole damn thing undone by the time this party was finished. “Hangover already huh?” Scotty grinned as he passed by, making some tequila. It was silent for a second, only the rattling of the metal shaker heard. “Yeah something like that.” Natalie lifted her head and plastered a smile on her face.

Please don’t come over for just 24 hours she said. Party-time they said.

-

Eventually Natalie began to feel awkward sitting inside, she felt like people were secretly pitying her or some shit like that. She made her way outside to the grass area where Carly and Erin and the rest of the vlog squad girls were sat upon deck chairs (or under them in a drunk Corinna’s case). “Hey guys” Natalie smiled and dragging out her y’s. Just as she was about to sit down however Erin held her hand out. “Agh Nat Liza told us to reserve that seat for her, I’m sorry! Hotel d’Erin at your service!” The girl said apologetically. It wasn’t a big deal really so Natalie kicked herself mentally for feeling hurt and instead took a seat on the grass. It felt prickly underneath her thighs.

“Carly! Erin! Corinna! Come here! I want to get a bomb picture!” Liza’s voice suddenly chirped up. Natalie scoffed quietly as the girls shuffled over to Liza enthusiastically.

“Natalie will you take it?” Liza then asked and Natalie stifled her mumbled curse before getting up.

A sharper pang of pain spread through Natalie’s wrists as she stared through the screen of Liza’s phone. She stepped back until everyone at the party (except her) was in frame, very nearly tripping over discarded cans. Tears pricked her eyes as she watched David and Liza leaning into one another whilst smiling at the camera. “Say cheese!” Natalie called out shakily, a lump steadily growing in her throat. A not so melodic chorus of a Cheese hence followed and she snapped and saved and snapped and saved around four pictures. She placed a thin lipped smile on her face as Liza rushed over. “Thank you Natalie!” She said brightly and suddenly many heads crowded around the phone and Natalie was pushed out of the circle. Not that she was complaining because she was starting to find it hard to breathe.

“My eyes were closed! In all of them! I look clapped man.” Zane struggled out.

Natalie sat back down on the grass, leaning against the palms of her hands and throughly missing the couch (and David). She watched as people grinded and danced and fell and spun. David’s smile was wide and his eyes even wider as he attained hilarious vlog footage content. However that’s not to say he got all the golden vlog footage because a lot of the time his camera was on Liza.

“Natalie! Can you get us a drink please?” Carly yelled out as she wriggled against her boyfriend. “Me too Natalie!” Liza said. It wasn’t long until Natalie had seven drink orders in place.

-

The kitchen was a welcome quiet from the music and melodrama, the speakers having been lugged outside. Natalie’s shaking hands sifted through the array of presses, she took her time gathering all the ingredients (even mini umbrellas) so as to avoid having to rejoin the havoc.

She sniffled and tried to ignore her watering eyes. ‘Is that all I am to them? To him? An assistant?’ Natalie poured the drinks with more force than necessary leading to a lot of liquid spilling onto the marble countertops. ‘Why is he so unaffectionate with me but not with Liza especially and everyone else? God I sound desperate.” The glasses clinked together and she shoved them onto a tray. ‘Why’s it always me making the first move? Me starting the conversation? Why’s it when she comes along it’s like I’m invisible to everyone?’ The glass patio doors were flung open as she stepped through, handing out the drinks.

Natalie spotted David and Liza laughing up a storm by the balcony and hesitation laced every movement she took towards them. She abandoned the tray on a nearby stool and approached the pair with Liza’s gin and tonic. David’s laughter shrunk as he saw her approach. “Hey Natalie!” He enthused and stepped back so Natalie could see Liza too. Natalie didn’t respond and instead just handed Liza her drink with a small barely existant smile.

“Thank youuu! What was the hold up eh?” Liza put on a faux show of anger, huffing before breaking into a laugh. That wasn’t even funny. Natalie took a flitting look at a confused David before answering. “Kitchen was a mess.” She answered stiffly. “You’ll have a hard time cleaning up after these mad children tomorrow!” Liza joked and both her and Natalie took a moment to look around. Broken glass shards and bottles and paper cups and vomit puddles galore. “Yeah. So what were you two laughing at? I could hear you from the kitchen” Natalie made an effort to change the subject.

“An inside joke. You wouldn’t get it- it’s very complicated! You know how it is!” Liza chirped and Natalie fiddled with her fingers, feeling all shades of left out. A lull in the conversation hit so David piped up. “Good job on the party Natalie! I mean it. You’re the best assistant, I’d be lost without you.” He complimented and watched the girl. She made brief eye contact with him before looking away into the crowd.

“Thanks Dobrick.” Natalie sniffed out a breathy smile. David hitched an eyebrow at that. She rarely called him Dobrick, usually only Dave and David. “What? No ‘I’m also your best fucking friend’ this time?” David chuckled and tried to meet her eyes. He set his hand just on her upper arm and this seemed to cause her to jolt back. “I’m going to head back to the party. Assistant duties. More drinks to serve!” Natalie knocked her hand upward using her thumb to signal behind her and this action caused David’s hand to be moved off.

-

David tried hard to maintain his cheery disposition amongst his friends and potential future workmates but he constantly found himself eying up Natalie. He had planned to just stay on that couch really, vlog footage or no vlog footage. His fingers had yearned to hold the camera, his fingertips knowing every groove on the device, but nevertheless he stayed.

David looked beside him at Liza who was fixing her bracelet. Her sudden arrival to the party was unexpected to say the least but he appreciated it. Liza had her YouTube Red Season renewed for at least another two seasons with a possible movie follow up so he knew her schedule was already packed to the brim with publicity interviews and the like. “You okay Dave? You seem out of it. Vodka too strong?” Liza joked and he laughed along. He had missed the friendship aspect, their easy banter that flowed smoothly without hitch.

“Brings me back to our minor days.” He taunted and stuck his tongue out. Liza strung up a conversation with a nearby girl as David leant his back and elbows against the balcony barrier. He had been looking for his escape back to Natalie all night yet people had kept dragging him into pool table games and whatnot. David was well aware of the more subdued grumpy image he had attained from the media when he wasn’t recording and he wanted to prove them wrong. Whoever them were.

-

Screams and squeals of excitement filled the air as the candles and sparklers on David’s celebration cake were lit. It was in the shape of a camera, how surprising, and was absolutely massive. Natalie knew there would be cake leftovers in the fridge for days on end.

“I just want to say a big thank you to Natalie for making this happen!” David announced as he grinned at the girl who stood off to the side. Lights of phone cameras shone in the darkness of the night as guests took in the incredible display. Natalie looked pointedly at the cake as claps surrounded her. David had his arm outstretched for her to run into as she’d usually initiate a hug and give him a side hug during occasions like this. Tonight however she remained in her spot.

David’s arm dropped back down to his side and his eyes grew worried as he noticed Natalie retreat to the side to listen to Erin’s rambling.

He tried hard to focus on possible reasonings for the girls closed offness tonight. ‘Maybe the wanting space for a day thing?’ David ruffled his hair and vowed to set down more solid space rules tomorrow.

David ran his eyes up and down her body after examining her face and her pretty, if not forced, smile. He gulped and even when people came up to him throughout the night he constantly found his eyes drifting back to her. She looked stunning.

-

The partygoers had slowly piled out of the house one by one, staggering through the front door. The remnants of the vlog squad took refuge on the couch, nursing their oncoming migraines and hangovers with fry ups and black coffee and water.

Natalie scurried around trying to make tidying up process of morning a bit easier by picking up the more larger pieces of rubbish. She kept a safe distance from the vlog squad, rather hurt that no one attempted to include her or strike up conversation instead ordering drinks, drinks and more drinks.

“Natalie!” David’s voice called from the couch and complaints of his voice volume followed soon after.

“One minute, sir.” Natalie murmured the last part under breath as she carried two bin bags beside the front door for less disposal distance. She could feel David’s roaming over her body and face as she wiped the perspiration from her forehead.

“Nat. Come sit down.” David breathed and patted the seat beside him on the couch. Natalie melted at his use of her nickname and his soft tone of voice but quickly resumed her tidying of the table, brushing wrappers into the dustpan. She made brief eye contact with him, brown eyes meeting brown eyes. “I’ve gotta get this down David.” Natalie sniffled, now shivering from the cold dawn breeze.

David bit his lip in thought and she tried not to make it obvious she was watching from the corner of her eye.

Natalie hooched upwards from kneeling to feet and carried the dustpan in one hand. She stepped over a snoozing Zane, careful not to tred on his toes or his drooling face.

Suddenly though, without warning, David’s hand grasped her free one and yanked her down on top of him on the couch. The pan and it’s contents went everywhere but that was the least of her worries. Natalie’s heart completely stopped in her chest and she was pressed flush against him, her thighs messily straddling his lap without one mere inch of space between them.

“David! I’m going to have to clean that up all over again!” Natalie hissed and cursed inwardly for feeling her eyes tear up again. She attempted to get off of him, despite her body not wanting to obey at all, and sat next to him before making to get up. Another sigh of annoyance and confusion left Natalie’s mouth as David tugged her onto his lap. A small almost inaudible gasp left her mouth as he pulled her back against his chest, her sitting sideways upon him now.

She looked at him with pure irritation in her eyes. “I’ll get a maid Nat. Please stay?” David whispered with a mischievous smile but caring eyes. His heart did a nervous bounce. This whole affection thing was now new to him really, and it took a lot of bravery to be affectionate with Natalie.

Natalie’s gaze shifted from one eye to another but nodding stiffly. She was thankful that the others who were actually still awake were engaged in some rant causing topic. “Okay.” Natalie said and tried hard not to smile as a grin overtook David’s face. David wrapped his arms around her waist tightly in a warm embrace as she curled hers against his chest and hesitantly leant her head down to rest in the crook of his neck.

“You’re cold.” David mumbled in worry as she shivered. “I’m fine Dave” Natalie whispered, her breath tickling his neck, her lips brushing against his skin. A smile played on her lips as David draped a fluffy blanket around her shoulders and tugged her even closer to him if that was even possible at this stage.

Eventually Natalie’s rigidness and stiff posture sunk against David and she felt on his hands being placed on her thigh, his thumb brushing the skin there delicately whilst his hand kept her curled legs locked near him.

“Guys would you mind helping tidy up when you’re less looking like death?” David said and returning Carly’s stuck out tongue with his own stuck out tongue. “I feel like I’ve been run over by bulls at that festival in Spain!” Heath groaned and Mariah pouted, brushing her cool fingers over his forehead. “That would make excellent vlog foota-“ David was cut off by various groans and grumbles and Hell no’s (or heck no’s in Matts case). David smiled to himself as he heard Natalie’s soft sleepy laugh escape her.

Even though the possibility of the wrecked vlog squads spotting of this was high? David couldn’t help himself and pressed his lips quickly against Natalie’s temple. He burned a deep pink afterwards but was rewarded with a noise of contentment from a now dozing Natalie.

He leant his mouth down towards her ear.

“Seatgeek is an amazing app-“ “David shut up.”

-

Apologies for the length! Haven’t yet figured out how to attach the « press to read more » button. I hope everyone has a fantastic day! Can’t wait for the recording of the podcast to come out..I swear Guru gossip datalie thread are almost body language experts at this stage! I’m sorting through old messages tonight but please still send in ideas! Comments and critiques are much appreciated! No hate whatsoever to Liza or anyone else here annnd English isn’t my first language. Ah thats it for announcements! Byeee! -Ella 💕

[theheartofpenelope]

Simple Things : Chapter eleven

Excerpt - “Charlotte would have to admit there were worse sights to wake up next to.... Tom looked so perfectly peaceful and relaxed as he lay there next to her. In her hotel room. In her bed. The white bed sheet haphazardly draped over his legs. His curly hair was a mess and she adored it. Even from where she was resting, she could feel his bodily warmth radiating onto her.” Tag list: @winterisakiller, @devikafernando, @scorpionchild81, @messy-insomniac-bookgirl, @smutsausage, @hiddlesbitch1 @noplacelikehome77 @wolfsmom1 @meh1217 @dina-bln @lilaeye39 @tinchentitri @fairlightswiftly @nonsensicalobsessions @wolfsmom1 @stmeiou @ink-and-starlight @givemecocoaa @profkmoriarty13 @nikkalia @massivelemon @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @argo-shila @emoietmoi @redfoxwritesstuff @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @raining-litter @theoneanna @coppercorn-and-cauldron @turniptitaness  Author’s Notes/Warnings: tags will follow later on Anyway thank you in advance for feedback - would love to know what you think…Also on AO3 through this link Masterlist available through here Bonus: click here for the pinterest moodboard (always updated)

Chapter eleven 1. Sunday birthday brunch at Lizzie’s

After ringing Lizzie’s doorbell, Charlotte glanced down at the colourful bouquet she carried in her hands. The sweet aroma of the flowers filled her lungs with happiness and energy, both very welcome because she felt dead on her feet. 

When she was greeted with her nearest and dearest friends soft and happy laughter bubbled through the air. Charlotte’s smile was wider than she could have held possible and her heart was simply overjoyed. One by one the group of girlfriends fell into each other’s arms with joy, exclaiming excited shrieks and silly little compliments. Oh, she definitely had missed this, all of it.

As expected, the girls’ respective men were fussing over a BBQ in the garden while two  teeny little rascals were attempting to push a ball around in between the two of them. Charlotte sweetly kissed one of the birthday-girls who was patiently cradling her newborn to sleep. Charlotte gladly took a moment to inhale the sweet baby-scent while kissing its head as well, before whispering to her friend how much the little bub resembled its father.  

This was nice, this was good. This is where she’d wanted to be… At the annual birthday brunch that celebrated all ‘three summerbabes’ that were amongst the group of tight-knit friends. It was a lazy event, no pressure. It was all ‘put your feet up’, ‘stay as long as you want’, etc. And just like every year they were all there, without fault. There was no question Charlotte would attend as well, conferences or not. She’d gladly taken a night flight out of Edinburgh for it, because she would not (could not!) miss this for the world. 

Several hugs and kisses later, Lizzie introduced Charlotte to a new face; a man named Michael. Not someone’s new boyfriend, no, no, not this one. He appeared to be a friend of Lizzie’s husband David, a ‘newly single’ and Lizzie couldn’t resist to point that little fact out and not-so-subtly add; ‘like you.’

Charlotte groaned inwardly as she meekly greeted the man who had turned a deeper shade of pink, just like her.  

“Is it just me,” she joked, “or do you feel like we’ve walked into a trap here?”

To her delight Michael smiled and admitted to the sentiment, leaving Lizzie to gasp in fake horror and muttering Charlotte could get her own Mimosa. 

Charlotte chuckled, but quickly left the man behind and for good reason; another man, most definitely nòt called Michael, was currently haunting her mind, body and soul.

>>> Charlotte would have to admit there were worse sights to wake up next to....

Tom looked so perfectly peaceful and relaxed as he lay there next to her. In her hotel room. In her bed. The white bed sheet haphazardly draped over his legs. His curly hair was a mess and she adored it. Even from where she was resting, she could feel his bodily warmth radiating onto her. He smelled so nice. And while she wanted nothing more than to nuzzle against his chest and crawl into his embrace, trailing kisses from his collarbone to that spot behind his ear that made him gasp...  she opted not to. After all, it was quite early still and he was so tired…. 

She smiled to herself softly and deftly unplugged the hotel phone so her morning wake up call wouldn’t wake him. Another convention-day had presented itself and Charlotte reluctantly kicked herself into gear; cautiously sneaking out of the bed and into the bathroom. And while she was mindful not to wake him as she showered and slipped into her clothes, she was utterly clueless on how she ought to proceed after that. Does she leave without a word? Surely not. Should she leave a note? Should she wake him? In her mind she knew very well what she would wànt to do… In an ideal scenario she’d crawl back under the sheets with him, so they could wake whenever it pleased them and come to terms with the aftermath at their own steady pace. But this was not that day. She'd never felt so happy, so sated and at the same time so insecure in her life.

At the sound of her cell phone ringing Charlotte sped out the bathroom to silence the damned thing, bumping her little toe against the bed in the process. Charlotte suppressed a series of heavy curses while stubbornly limping on and grabbing wildly at her phone nonetheless.

The tall silhouette in her bed came to life with a jolt.

"mmmm,"  he groaned, "mmorning," >>>

“Ambush?! What ambush?” Lizzie protested after Charlotte confronted her in the kitchen, “Michael is a friend of David’s. I can't help it if he turns out to be single.”

“Conveniently or not darling, you seem to forget I know your and David’s circle well enough to know that this is absolute bullshit.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes at her friend, “Oh shush! Give him a chance. He's sweet and kind and once you get to know him I'm certain you’ll be forever grateful I introduced the two of you….” 

She shook her head at her friend: Charlotte hàd agreed that Lizzie could set her up on occasion, hadn’t she? Well then…  ‘Brunch is fun with friends. And he is a friend and so is she. Both single. Huh. Imagine that…’ 

Charlotte cursed Lizzie internally as she stomped off; her mind now racing at full speed. However she swiftly calmed down once she was outside again. Especially when laying eyes upon Cait and her first born, promenading around, seemingly on cloud number nine. Cait offered her to hold her little newborn and Charlotte more than happily obliged. Admiring the teeny tiny state of perfection, her mind devilishly reminded her that nothing could scare men off faster that women cooing over a perfect little baby… Perfect! And Charlotte cuddled the little one a tad bit extra because of it … 

>>> Tom bounced up straight when he noticed Charlotte’s predicament. The sheet tactically held in position he scooted to her side of the bed where he wordlessly held out his hands for her to place her foot into it. 

He studies her toes diligently and massaged the pain away. 

So perfect, so lovely, so devilishly handsome even upon waking, although a bit confused as to why she was already dressed and seemingly set to go. >>>

Yes, men definitely tend to run at the sight of their girls - prospective or not - fall in love with babies. But not this one. This one did not run off when a baby was diplomatically involved.

“Hey there little bug,” he greeted the tiny baby, while he offered Charlotte a glass. 

Michael made a generous attempt at small talk. He was nice, attentive and very clearly dragged in the same predicament as she was. He was compassionate, interested, maybe slightly overdressed but Charlotte was nowhere in the mood for this. This was supposed to be brunch. Casual birthday brunch at Lizzie’s - not some kind of a speed date… 

“Yet another summerbug,” he conversed on, “there seems to be a lot of those here.”

He nodded towards her, a question lingering in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Charlotte smiled back good heartedly, “not me though.”

“No?” he sipped from his gin-tonic, “what kind of ‘bug’ are you then?”

Despite not wanting to, she chuckled and bit her lip in utter defiance. She hated it when Lizzie did something right when she so badly wanted it to be wrong.

>>> Charlotte reassured Tom of her good intentions. She was definitely not leaving him without a word. She offered him the cup of coffee she’d made them and felt as if she’d grown wings when he looked at her like that. 

He nodded at her appreciatively. And she easily gave into the urge to smoothly slip her hand over the nape of his neck and into his tousled hair; while answering his doting morning kiss.

So last night, he looked up at her with one raised eyebrow. Mischief written all over his face. She chuckled as she met his expression, "m-hm..." >>>

Charlotte, now babyless, jiggled her leg while partaking in the conversations as the group sat around the table in the garden. 

“She’s nervous,” David nudged his wife.

Lizzie beamed, “told you this would work.”

‘Charlie why don’t you sit over here, next to Michael’. ‘Charlotte did you hear Michael just got back from Dublin?’ ‘Michael, did you know Charlie just flew in from Edinburgh?’ ‘Oh you two, why didn’t we put you together sooner.’ ‘Oh, this makes sense.’ Oh, there were not enough Mimosa’s in the world to end this trail of suffering.  

Charlotte absentmindedly pushed the food around in her plate, before ultimately dropping her cutlery on it. She tried her best to follow the conversation, she really did. But when some friends left the table to put their little kids in their respective cots, her mind has started wandering. 

She vaguely detected David’s intonation went up at the end of a sentence. Apparently a question that required an answer from her. She looked up with a kind “hmm?”

“Edinburgh?” he kindheartedly inquired again. 

“Oh! Yes, erm quite nice, thank you,” she blushed and chuckled. “Did you know, in August they have this festival?"

"Really?"

"Mhm," Charlotte nodded. She’d though this one through well enough now. "Tom showed me around."

"Tom?” Lizzie suddenly piped up while clearing the plates. Ah finally, she’d caught her attention. 

"Yes, Lizzie, Tom,” Charlotte smiled as she slanted her head towards her friend and handing over her own plate. 

"I've heard thàt name before!”

Charlotte rose to her feet and collected a bunch of dishes, ready to follow her friend and continue this conversation in the privacy of Lizzie’s kitchen but her friend seemed to have grown roots on her own lawn. 

"My god, I knew it!” she exclaimed, a small tower of dirty plates in her hans, “these international conventions are paying off...” 

And while Lizzie's mind was brewing up stories, Charlotte could only laugh and shake her head. 

Move woman

"Did you have fun?”

"Yes,” Charlotte nodded, “I did actually.”

"You didn't... " Lizzie’s eyes doubled in size.

"Oh but I did,” 

Michael slightly shifted in his seat.

Oh. Bad form Charlotte, not in front of the prospective one...

David rolled his eyes, "excuse us would you?"

"Yeah I'm," Michael stammered and pointed to David as he quickly followed in his steps. 

"Did he know where everything was??”

"Liz, my god!” Charlotte rolled her eyes as she put the dishes down on the table again, “what are you asking me?”

"Well, you know these days…”

"Trust me,” Charlotte sighed, “he did nòt need GPS-assistance.”

"Oh my god!” Lizzie chirped and tapped her feet on the grass in enthusiasm, “why didn’t you tell me?!”

“Because you simply had no ears for me, love,” Charlotte replied softly.

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” Lizzie sighed, “but ugh!! Now what? Tell me. Tell me all of it. Every single dirty detail. Please. I’ll be all ears now, promise… ”

2. Sunday high tea at Benedict & Sophie’s

Tom chuckled to himself when he saw little Christopher dashing around in the garden as he chased the colourful butterflies that fled from the nearby rose bushes. Christopher looked up at the fluttering little animals with big wondrous eyes. Tom found himself envieing that capacity of looking at the world through childlike eyes, always admiring, always exploring and with that unshakable belief that everything and every one was ‘good’ while in reality that really was not the case. Not often at least.

“Such a lovely family,” he shook his head with a smile before looking back at his friends, “I envy you.”

Benedict snorted while following Tom’s gaze. Sophie on her part only sighed as the baby monitor crackled. Baby Hal was definitely awake now. She thanked Tom once more for his attentive first godfather’s gift before scampering up towards her - for now still - littlest bundle of joy. 

“So how was Fringe?” Benedict questioned as he reached for his drink. 

“Satisfying,” Tom swirled the spoon in his cup of coffee. 

Tom was happy but short in his answers today, Benedict had noticed. 

“Now come on, out with it.” 

“Out with what?”

Benedict flashed him a mirthless smile, he knew his friend better than this. Benedict called out to his son as he sauntered about with his butterfly net, urging him to be a bit more subdued in his actions for fear of him hurting himself. He was met with a witty reply only a 4-year-old could come up with.

They had established the performance had gone very well, the feedback had been tremendous. Tom was meeting up with a renowned director soon for a new play. He’d met up with the friends and relatives. And apparently he had a not-date-like date as well with pleasurable outcome... 

“You know, for a man who just got freaky at Fringe,” Benedict chortled at his own joke, “I would expect to see you a tad bit more... upbeat?”

Tom huffed to himself before sipping from his coffee again, which triggered a dramatic frown from Benedict.

“I mean, let’s recap here shall we?”

“You kissed the girl,” Benedict stated, “and I can assume you wanted to kiss this girl, right?” 

“Yes,” a firm nod from Tom.

“You slept together,” Benedict squeezed his eyes into two fine lines.

“Affirmative sir,” again a firm nod. 

“Then what is with the mood dear friend? I would think…” 

Tom sighed gravely, where did he begin…

 >>> Charlotte nodded when he repeated her “11 PM? As in tonight? Your flight is tonight?”

"It's a Fringe thing apparently. Night flight or no flight..."

Tom was astounded; their schedule couldn't have been more diverse. When the conference concluded, he was already working interviews and set for performing subsequently. This was no good, no good at all… 

He sighed and put his tired brain to work. He suggested a bar right outside the city centre. A cosy remote little place where they could meet up again in privacy after his performance and before her departure. A place where she would be able to catch a taxi easily, almost instantly even. And if his mind didn’t deceive him, they would have a little bit more over an hour. Not much, but so very craved. 

To his delight, she instantly and cheerfully agreed and amorously returned the kiss he rewarded her with. >>>

“Hang on,’’ Benedicted waved his hands under closed eyes, “supposed to?”

“Well, I got caught in …” 

“No,” Benedict buried his head in his hand and muttered, “Tom, honestly, no.” 

“Well, what was I supposed to do?” 

“Slip out the back, avoid the crowd, explain you have to get somewhere in time...”

“I tried,” Tom protested quietly.

“Well,’ his friend groaned, “not enough it would seem.”

Tom chastised himself and he couldn't blame Benedict when he straightforward spat out it was forever the story of Tom’s life. Forever putting his career, or his reputation, first. Making an effort to be likeable and stay likeable for hoards of fans. To the point his personal life suffered because of it. As if everything else would pause for him as well. Open up your eyes my dear friend! Life goes ever on. If you miss the train, don't expect someone to send the limo back to pick you up. On or off, but decide now. 

Tom squirmed in his seat uneasily. It hadn't occurred to him like thàt until now really. But did Benedict really had to spell it out so harshly though? Tom had argued with him initially; saying it had nothing to do with fans or reputation or any of that. He just felt awful because he had left things up in the air between them. And as a matter of fact he was really intent on seeing or speaking with her again. Truly, honestly. 

Benedict sighed, clearly not buying any of it.

“So,” he exhaled loudly, “was this a one-night affair?”

“I – I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know,” he dropped his hand on the table with a dramatic chuckle, “how can you not know?” 

“It’s complicated,” Tom disputed. 

“Try me,” Benedict dared his friend, “because it’s fairly easy… do you see yourself without her or not?" he paused, "could you continue without pursuing this and look back without regret? In short - what does Sadie mean to you?"

Tom scrunched his nose and shook his head vehemently, "Sadie? Sadie’s not..." 

"Well then, there is your answer," Benedict interjected his reasonings. “See? Easy!” 

It was no secret Benedict didn't particularly care much for Sadie. In his mind the young actress hung around Tom in all sympathy, but pushed towards a romantic connection in public for more press attention. He could be mistaken though, he did admit this to his friend. But he had also been quick to add he wasn't mistaken about these things very often. 

"I meant to say,” Tom interposed on his friend, “that this is not about Sadie, it's Charlotte..."

He noticed Benedict look up at him dumbfounded, his eyebrows raised in complete and utter surprise, “Charlotte?” 

It took him a moment before several profanities came falling from his lips.

"Yeah, tried that too," Tom snorted under a mirthless smile before downing the last of his coffee, "didn't work."

3. Sunday birthday brunch at Lizzie’s continued

“So??” Lizzie repeated anxiously, “now what?” 

“I don't know,” Charlotte shrugged with a chuckle. 

“What do you mean, you don't know,” Lizzie rolled her eyes, “call him, text him, go on. If you have chemistry, you only need one other thing. Timing.”

“Ah, but timing's a bitch. Besides, he hasn't really reached out to me, so I think it's pretty clear that this was all there is…” Charlotte didn’t know who she was soothing more; Lizzie or her own broken heart. 

“I just wanted to make clear that setting me up today might not have been the best idea, sweetheart…”Charlotte sighed, “it was a bit much and a bit too soon.”

"But Charlie, you need to get back out there again,” Lizzie contested kindly, “I’m afraid you'll turn from wallflower to wallpaper if you keep standing on the side…”

"Dramaqueen!”

"Truth”

"I know, I know, but, you know… got laid,” Charlotte winked, “I'm getting there alright? Baby steps,” she gestured as she put her thumb and index finger close together.

>>> She arrived at the bar early and fiddled with the complementaries her tea had offered her. She felt as giddy like a schoolgirl waiting of her crush. Only said crush did not arrive upon the agreed hour. 15 minutes went by, then half an hour. This was not good. Charlotte checked her phone for the umpteenth time. The battery was still at 78%

She mentally thanked a colleague of hers who offered her a powerbank in the afternoon when Charlotte had noticed her phone battery running low. One night out of the ordinary and her usual routine had gone right out the window. She never put her phone into flight mode that night, nor did she load up the battery and it showed. She was however desperate not to fall off the radar that day. Because she did not, could not, miss a call from him, or a text, or anything basically. 

She professed her eternal gratitude to said lady. Her battery level went up, however incoming messages remained at steady zero. Charlotte didn’t really take too much note of it. He had his own calendar to work through today. But now, well passed their established hour her frustration level came to higher lever…. 

Maybe he was delayed, she pondered. Maybe this, maybe that. Her mind was fully aware of the pretty realistic fact that he would not show up, but her heart wasn’t ready to believe that yet. Until 40 minutes had gone by. Charlotte rose to her feet and paid for her bill. As Tom had predicted, she got a taxi very easily. She looked left and right once more while the drive loaded her baggage. Nothing. 

Getting into the vehicle she softly huffed to herself, "silly girl, what did you expect?"

It wasn't so much his failure to show up that hurt her, it was more his incessant ability to simply not communicate. Promising someone to show up and failing to do so is just so not done. Charlotte would rather have the stone cold truth. Right there. In her face. Don't sweet talk, name the things for what they are. But apparently actors just loved to act… Charlotte rolled her eyes, ashamed for her own gullibility and left for the airport. >>>

“Well, maybe something is wrong with your phone?” Lizzie muttered as she fished out Charlotte’s device out of her purse. 

“You've watched too many romcom's sweetheart,” Charlotte muttered whilst washing the dishes in Lizzie’s kitchen.

“Seriously though!” Lizzie insisted, “I texted you this morning.”

“You did not Liz, you think you did but I think we have well established your mind is everywhere except in the present. One year older, one year….”

“You're on flight mode, you dummy!” Lizzie squealed out. 

“I’m wha?” Charlotte muttered while quickly drying her hands, “I am not, gimme….”

“I knèw it!” Lizzie tittered on triumphant while Charlotte’s cell phone went into a small beeping frenzy, “there he is,” she added in a sing-song voice. 

While Lizzie nagged on, Charlotte’s heart leapt into her throat. Of course! She hadn’t lost all hope on him. Or them. Not just yet. Well, maybe just a little bit. As she quickly scanned for Tom’s messages, her heart swelled and her faith in him restored itself swiftly.  

> Thinking of you

> Not much longer...

> Charlotte, wait for me please!

> Nearly there….

> Charlotte, where are you?

> I can't find you... 

He’d left her a voicemail. Of course he would! Her heart thudded in her chest and she excused herself, anxious to hear his voice again. 

She heard him sigh and hesitate.

You're gone. A pause. Charlotte, I... 

Maybe I was too late, maybe I didn't see you or maybe you weren't here to begin with (bitter laugh) sorry about that... I just…. I only wanted to say (a pause) I have no regrets. None (a pause) I … I just feel so awful that I didn't see you again tonight. I wish ... (he sighed). God I wish I could have said goodbye properly. You don't know how I've longed to see you again... 

Charlotte's hands clasped over her mouth. One night, picture perfect. And then… the hunt was over. The loot had been collected. On to the next apparently. The puzzle pieces finally slid into place. Her heart sank into her shoes, and she fought back a rush of emotion that fell on to her. Goodbye? Honestly?

“And?” Lizzie tilted her head curiously, “what did he say? When will you see him again.” 

“I erm,” Charlotte shrugged, “I won’t.”

“Well,” she sighed dramatically, anxious to switch the subject, “that’s that then. What about dessert?”

4. Sunday high tea at Benedict & Sophie’s continued

Benedict remained mute and slightly dumbfounded after Tom had finished filling him in on the need-to-know details of Edinburgh. Only when Sophie resurfaced with little Hal on her arm, he gestured wildly and managed to mutter to his wife, “Charlotte!! It’s Charlotte.”

“Well of course it is,” Sophie beamed knowingly, “who else?” 

“But, but,” he heaved his shoulders up helplessly, “how do you know this?”

“I just do,” 

And as Sophie confessed that she suspected there was somethere ‘there’ on Benedict’s birthday party, a reluctant Tom admitted that they had in fact kissed at ComiCon less than 2 weeks prior. Benedict felt like a fish out of the water at this confession, claiming he was there and how could he not know this. Sophie however deftly shut him up by offering him baby Hal and seating herself next to the two men at the table. 

“So,” Sophie questioned him, “is there a problem I fail to see?”

“I don’t know. I texted her...I tried calling her but her phone was switched off. So I left a voice message and … nothing,” Tom shrugged.

Benedict offered him a slow clap, which Hal quickly tried to mimic. 

“Yeah, clearly, you’ve done all you can…”

“Tom,” Sophie clasped her hand over his, “ignore Bigfoot there. What is it you want? 

“It’s stupid, it’s silly, it’s a dead-end. We live miles apart,”

Benedict coughed, “Taylor.”

Hal giggled as he tried hacking and gagging to his daddy’s resemblance. Benedict doted on his youngest boy and encouraged his antics while Tom laughingly urged his friend to shut up.

“Alright, alright, then forget about her. She hasn’t responded to your texts or your one and only - I feel I must emphasize - phone call. Too bad, the joke’s on her, turn around and move on.” 

Tom’s eyes drooped down as he came to a full understanding and nodded accordingly. 

"I feel I need I repeat my question : do you see yourself without her or not?" Benedict paused, "could you continue without pursuing this and look back without regret?”

“Well, I càn live without her. There is no question about that,” Tom shrugged. “You know the first time we met, I thought she was intelligent and beautiful, and absolutely perfect. And now I’ve come to realize that she isn’t. At all. She is not perfect; she’s got her scars and her emotional baggage.”

“And?” Sophie urged with a smile, “my morning chocolate for the fact that this made matters even worse.”

Tom sighed and looked over at a loudly giggling Christopher in the garden. 

“I think that’s your answer right there…” Sophie quietly added. 

"You know, Sophie and I didn't happen overnight,” Benedict followed her reasonings to which she snorted. 

“And we do not live on cloud number nine. A relationship is work,” she confessed on her turn, 

“But I love her so much, that it hardy feels like work..."

“Ah,” Sophie winked in good humour “you see, and it works both ways…”

“When you hesitate, Tom, you take the plunge. Or you’ll regret it forever,” Benedict hastened to say. “Which means you’ll be on my case about it. Also forever.”

[thinkaboutdobrik]

Welcome To LA (Pt. 2) -> David Dobrik (/Vlogsquad)

Requested by Anonymous: Trisha want y/n and David Dobrik to get together .y/n developed feeling for David but is afraid of loosing their current friendship .Y/n denies having feelings for David to Trisha .a few months later Zane gets drunk and y/n helps take care of him .when Zane’s finally asleep david admits to y/n he has feeling for her

Plot: The reader hangs out with the vlog squad, and David confesses his feelings for the reader.

A/n: This request was so long I decided to split it into two stories, however you don't have to read part 1 in order for this one to make sense (i think)

if you want to read part one, search for the title on my blog (i'll add a link to it when im on a computer)

-

"Are you like, soo excited to see David?" Trisha squealed and smiled widely as she pulled out of your driveway.

You let out a small chuckle and looked at her funny. "I mean, I don't know. Should I be?" you questioned and shrugged.

Trisha was one to share her opinions no matter the circumstances. Ever since she introduced you to some of her friends, David being one of them, she had been gushing over how cute of a couple you and David would make.

After getting to know David a little bit, it was safe to say you were interested in him. He didn't seem like a bad guy at all, and he seemed to be interested in you too.

"Yes! You guys are like sooo cute together." Trisha continued cheering as you drove off to David's house.

The ride from your place to David's was filled with a lot of laughter and gossip. Trisha told you just about everything that had been going on in her life lately, as well giving brief descriptions of everyone in her friend group, preparing you for what you were getting yourself into.

None of her friends seemed bad, perhaps Jonah was the one that seemed the most off, but other than that you were beyond excited to meet her friends, as well as get to hang out at David's house.

Trisha's bright pink car made it's way through the big gates and safely parked in the Driveway.

"Hey, guys!" Trisha greeted everyone as the two of you let yourselves in.

At first glance, David's house was huge. Big windows, open space and a beautiful kitchen immediately caught you eye upon entering his house.

David was standing by the kitchen with some of his friends, introducing them to you after he greeted you and Trisha.

"Y/n, this is Zane, Jeff, Joe and my assistant Natalie." David said, using his hand to point towards the people standing around him.

"I'm also his friend." Natalie laughed, playfully punching David in the shoulder, which made everyone laugh.

"Nice to meet you guys!" you smiled and replied.

After chatting for a bit in the kitchen, you joined David and his friends on his big, white couch, sitting your butt down next to Zane's.

Zane cleared his throat before turning towards you. "So, how do you know David?"

You smiled at Zane. "I actually met Trisha at starbucks once and she later introduced me to him, Jason and... Josh? I think his name was?" you replied, looking over at Trisha who was nodding along.

"Yeah, isn't she so cute? How pretty is she?" Trisha complimented, playfully twirling your hair around her finger as she admired you appearance.

Zane and Jeff nodded, agreeing with Trisha making you blush a little.

Sitting with Jeff, Zane and Trisha, the guys told you many stories about their lifestyle and what they would do on a day-to-day basis. Jeff told you his stories about which celebrities he had cut hair for, and Zane told you all about what craziness goes on in the life of social media influencers.

You continued spending the evening at David's house with all of his friends. Everyone were so open and welcoming, and so nice, and you felt like you fit right into the group right away.

David's friends asked you a lot of question to get to know you better, as well as you got to know them a whole lot too.

David had also been eager to talk to you. He'd sit right next to you, shooing Jeff to the side in the couch so he could sit with you, interested in getting to know everything about you.

He'd laugh hard at your jokes, and he'd joke around as well, excited to see the way your smile beamed and eyes glistened as you looked at him. He'd rest his hand loosely on the back of the couch behind you, basically an excuse for him to 'accidentally' brush his arm against your shoulder, or rest his hand close to yours whilst his fingers lightly touched yours, or tilting his leg so it'd rest against yours.

At the end of the night, David walked you and Trisha out to her car. It was getting late, and some of the guys had already headed home as well, whilst some others were spending the night at his house.

David held his hand on the small of your back as he walked you and Trisha outside. You couldn't help but to blush a little, even feel a few butterflies in your stomach too, at how flirty David had been with you all night.

You enjoyed it.

Whenever you talked, David's eyes were glued to yours. When he insisted on you sharing a spot with him on the bean bag, he rested his big hands on your thighs, rubbing them, playfully pushing them every now and then. His whole face lit up whenever you looked at him and talked to him. And the way he had been giving you most of the attention all night made your cheeks blush just by the thought of it.

"I'll see you guys later." David smiled and waved at Trisha as she got in the car, before opening his arms to pull you in to a tight hug which you gladly returned.

The next few weeks had gone by so quick, and so well for you. Not only were you even closer with Trisha and Zane, but you had also gotten very popular within the friend group. Carly and Erin had hit you up on multiple occasions, you were hanging out a lot with Zane and Matt, and you had also appeared in several of your other friends' videos.

You had also been talking with David a lot. Not only via text messages and phone calls, but he'd often invite you out to whatever him and his friends were doing. You and David had gotten a lot closer, very quickly. The two of you were like two peas in a pod, and you noticed you had started feeling some things for David.

When David invited you out to a party one time, you spent the majority of your time dancing and having fun with Zane and Heath and a few others. As per usual, Zane was the one getting hammered first, but this didn't come as a surprise as you had spent most of your nights caring for the drunken guy, on nights like these.

"Lay down here, and I'll get you some water." you offered as you supported all of Zane's body weight.

Zane crashed down on the couch, arms and legs thrown everywhere as his eyes were glued shut, slurring words every now and then.

"Baby, don't leave me. I need you. Take care of me, pleaseee." Zane slurred as he grabbed a hold of your cold hands, pulling you towards him making you land on the free space on the couch next to his hips.

"You sure you're good?" you questioned and stroked his cheek gently. He smiled widely at you, eyes still shut, as he nodded.

"Do you want me to tell you a secret?" Zane slurred and looked up at you with a big grin plastered onto his face.

You tilted your head in confusion and gave him a weird look. "What?"

"David has a crush on you. Y'all are so cute, are y'all dating?" he asked as he shifted a little in his seat, trying to sit up right.

Your eyes widened at his question and you swallowed hard, unsure of what to respond, but before getting a chance to think you were interrupted by David and Ilya approaching you.

"C'mon, Zane. We gotta get you home." David said and motioned for Zane to get off of the couch.

Zane refused to move, and let's face it: knowing how stubborn he could be when drunk, you weren't getting out of there any time soon.

David sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking down at Zane and shook his head. "Fine. We can stay a little bit longer, but only until you've sobered up enough to stand on your two own feet." he said before sitting down next to you.

You were still sitting next to Zane on the couch, arm tossed over him as you continued to stroke his cheek, watching him drift off to whatever drunken land he was going to.

You looked at David and chuckled at how drunk Zane and the rest of your friends were.

"Listen, y/n." David started and scooted closer to you on the couch.

His hands were rested on top of his thighs and he had a serious, yet unsure, expression on his face. You looked at him, waiting for him to talk.

"I've been meaning to tell you this, but I don't know how so I'm just gonna say it." David chuckled and rubbed his neck. "I really like you, y/n. There's just something about you I'm very attracted to. Would it be weird if I asked you out on a date?"

Your eyes widened at his words and a big smile fell onto your lips. Your cheeks became flushed and little butterflies started appearing in your stomach.

Your mouth formed an o before you nodded. "Y-yeah, sure. I mean no, it's not weird, but yes I'd love to go out with you." you awkwardly laughed in return.

A big smile fell onto David's lips as he pretended to wipe sweat off of his forehead and chuckled.

You and David continued talking for the rest of the night. When the night came to an end and the closing hours were just around the corner, you and David gathered all of your friends and headed to David's car.

The drive home went by a lot quicker than you thought, and before you knew it David was already pulling up into your driveway.

You unbuckeled your seat belt, but before stepping out of the car David lightly grabbed your wrist making you turn around.

"Are you free tomorrow?" David asked and smiled at you, his cold hands sending shivers down your spine.

You nodded and smiled in return. "Pick me up at 7."

[kalluun-patangaroa]

Now you see them: It's been a long time since there was a pop phenomenon like this - frenzied fans, rhapsodising reviews . . . Suede, it seems, might be the future of rock and roll. Then again, they might not.

The Independent

Sunday, 21 March 1993 

Written by William Leith

A THURSDAY in March 1993, 7.20pm. The Top of The Pops presenter, Mark Franklin, introduces the latest video from Suede; the studio audience gives a youthful cheer. Brett Anderson, Suede's lead singer, appears on the walkway of a nasty tower block. He wears: no shirt, a tight black leather jacket, so short it reveals his midriff, black trousers low on the hips, so you can see his angular hip-bones, a cheap-looking necklace. He looks pale, almost ill, a figure from an early 1970s nightmare. His lank fringe covers his whole face.

The camera rushes down the scummy walkway into a dark room, where a coloured light flashes sickeningly; over the fuzzy guitar noise Anderson sings - or rather, he wails: 'Like his dad, you know that he's had / Animal nitrate in mind / Oh in your council home, he jumped on your bones / Now you're taking it time after time.'

This is 'Animal Nitrate', Suede's third single, a song about - what? Domestic violence, drugs, child abuse? It's thick with filthy undertones - and people are wild about it, just like they were wild about Suede's first two singles, 'The Drowners' and 'Metal Mickey', so wild that a concert-goer told me: 'It's not just girls who pack themselves at the front of the stage and try to rip Brett's clothes off - it's boys, and it's nothing to do with homosexuality . . . it's everybody, it's a mania.'

In his careless, Mick Jagger twang, which he has to a tee, Anderson tells me: 'Yeah, there's been a lot of hysteria at our gigs. But we're quite bored with playing live already. Once you have captivated a couple of thousand people, got them in the palm of your hand, and had them salivating . . . you don't really know where to go from there.'

They're still in their infancy, but Suede have snared the imagination of a certain type of rock fan - the sort of people who latch on to thin, angst-ridden white boys, the caste who worshipped the Smiths in the Eighties and David Bowie in the Seventies. Most important, Suede have become the darlings of the rock press. Melody Maker, the New Musical Express, Select, Q, Vox are wild about Suede, too; Suede have had more hype than anybody since the Smiths, or possibly even the Sex Pistols. The reviews are florid, poetic, half-crazed; they express the almost lascivious delight of journalists hungry for something to pin their hopes on. Suede, says the New Musical Express, are: 'The triumph of decadent aristo-foppery over prole pop.' They are 'Out there, so alone, brilliantly vulnerable' (Melody Maker). Or, as Select magazine put it: 'Never mind the bollocks. Here's Suede.' Needless to say, Suede's publicists, Phill Savidge and John Best, won the Music Week award for the best publicity campaign of 1992. The judges said they 'took Suede from obscurity to accolades to being hailed as the best band of the year'.

In the past year, Suede have been pictured on 19 magazine covers (including six Melody Maker covers, four New Musical Express covers, and, unprecedented for a band who have yet to release an album, the cover of Q magazine, which appeals to older fans). The Christmas edition of the NME, on which Brett Anderson posed as Sid Vicious, was the biggest-selling NME for a decade.

But Suede haven't yet released an album; their first three singles reached, respectively, 49, 17, and 7 in the chart. This is not the big-time yet; it's not U2 or Simply Red or the Cure. In an important sense, Suede haven't happened yet; they are in an interesting limbo. They might not happen. Lots of bands have got this far - or nearly this far - and no further; what happened to the Stone Roses, to Sigue Sigue Sputnik? They seemed like great ideas at the time.

What will Suede's fate be? Nobody knows; the world of rock music is too fickle to predict. When I met Brett Anderson, he said: 'I do want to have a place in history. I really do.'

'And what does it take for a band to have a place in history?'

'I think . . . three great records. Three great albums. But then again . . . the Sex Pistols did it with one, didn't they? I don't know. I don't know.'

BY THE end of 1992, when the height of Suede's chart success was still only a No 17 single, journalists were drooling over Brett Anderson. They practically had him on the couch. They loved his angst, his preoccupa-tion with himself, his ability to verbalise. He was perfect - he was everything they could possibly want.

In a typical exchange, he told Melody Maker: 'When it comes to writing, there's something to be said about being unhappy. I know I've been at my most creative when I've been sexually unsatisfied. When I'm sexually satisfied I write a load of old rubbish.'

Melody Maker: 'Are you sexually satisfied now?'

Anderson: 'Yeah.'

Melody Maker: 'So you're writing a load of old rubbish.'

Anderson: 'Yes, and it's a problem, because we're supposed to be doing our debut album . . .' He even had an exact position on sex, which was: 'I see myself as a bisexual man who's never had a homosexual experience.'

Perfect. As soon as they spotted Suede, the rock press knew they were on to something. The journalist who first wrote about Suede was John Mulvey of the NME. Suede were nobodies, playing third on the bill at the University of London Union. Mulvey says: 'They had charm, aggression, and . . . if not exactly eroticism, then something a little bit dangerous and exciting. Brett was a brilliant frontman. He has a certain edge to him which most people don't have, like Ned's Atomic Dustbin or Kingmaker, who are woefully bereft of that spice.'

'That spice' is something the rock journalist needs to find, if he is to make a living. Week in week out, you trudge to seedy bars and clubs, desperate to find something exciting. When I was a rock journalist in the Eighties, people would come into meetings every week, excited, with their discoveries. This is it! One week it was Stump, another week it was the Soup Dragons. We had the Shrubs, the June Brides, Sigue Sigue Sputnik, Half Man Half Biscuit; they were all the talk of the NME office for days, or weeks; sometimes they held out for longer, as long as there was still a chance of starting a cult, of getting people excited enough to rush out and buy the magazine. The strike-rate is very low; mostly, these discoveries fizzle out. So when the music press is faced with something that might go the whole way . . . it explodes.

'Here was a British band it was possible to get excited about,' says Danny Kelly, editor of Q magazine. 'The kids have to wait for the Smashing Pumpkins, or Hole, or Come, to come over from America. Whereas Suede is a very real, very immediate thing - they are around and playing.'

Kelly continues: 'In the last 10 years bands have been very apologetic; they've thrived on the attitude that 'we're the same as the audience'. Suede's attitude is 'we're brilliant; we're the stars, and you're the admirers'.'

Steve Sutherland, editor of the NME, says: 'When I first saw Suede, it was one of the few times I can honestly say I saw a band and I was utterly convinced they were brilliant. Often, you get a band with attitude, or a gimmick, or good songs, but seldom everything together.'

Kelly says: 'Also, Suede allude so knowingly to things that rock journalists are comfortable with - Seventies glam, Cockney Rebel, the Smiths, sexuality, asexuality, male violence. If there is a game to be played, they're playing it very well . . . they are skinny white boys speaking to other skinny white boys about their inadequacies.'

This week's NME cover story is the transcription of a meeting between Brett Anderson and David Bowie, who listened to a tape of Suede's first album sent to him by Steve Sutherland. Bowie told Sutherland: 'Of all the tapes you've ever sent me, this is the only one that I knew instantly was great.' The two singers, the 'Thin White Duke' and the star-in- waiting, chat about sex, drugs, Nazism and the ins and outs of being a pop star. Talking about Bowie's recent, relatively anonymous, period, Anderson says: 'It's funny that, when David started Tin Machine, it was the start of the cult of non-personality . . . maybe you were just feeling the times.' The article is headlined: 'One day, son, all this could be yours.

HE COULD, conceivably, be the next David Bowie, the next Mick Jagger. Or it could all come to nothing. Who knows? Brett Anderson sits with his feet up on the table, talking quietly about his chances. He wears: black corduroy trousers, cut low, a thin jumper with nothing underneath, shoes with holes in the soles, a reaction against his recent, more stylised image, which included an appearence in the NME with an elaborate shirt painted on his body.

'Are you conscious of the way you dress?'

'Yes . . . I'm feeling pressure on how to dress in that I don't like being made into a cartoon. There's a certain element of the music press that deals in comedy and turn you into a two-dimensional thing. The whole foppish thing is getting quite boring really.'

Sitting, as he is, in stardom's waiting-room, Anderson is hyper-aware of the traps he might fall into. Recently, for instance, a tabloid scoured his earlier interviews and found them to be larded with references to drugs. 'They said there was a backlash against Suede because parents were worried for their kids,' he says. 'The whole media's a huge dangerous web.'

'Do you ever think that all this might just be hype? That you might never go the whole way?'

Anderson, his knees drawn up to his chest, his head in his hands, says: 'The British music press are notorious for getting it wrong, for leading people up the garden path, because they just . . . they're too obsessed with the idea of things. But we never really felt it wouldn't happen. We knew we had a bit of substance over the style.'

Anderson believes he's going to be a star. He's happy with Suede's first album, Suede, on the cover of which is depicted a couple kissing - an ambiguous picture, which could be a man kissing a man, a man kissing a woman, or a woman kissing a woman. 'I chose it because of the ambiguity of it, but mostly because of the beauty of it,' he says.

He also says: 'There's an elegance and a beauty to our music that people haven't heard yet, and I want that to come across - the flow of it, the swoon, to a certain extent.'

Anderson comes from Haywards Heath, where he met Mat Osman, Suede's guitarist, at school. 'He's always known he was going to be a pop star. He was very arrogant,' says his childhood friend Alan Fisher.

'I'm quite glad that Haywards Heath was such an ugly place,' says Anderson. 'Being born on the outskirts of London, being able to just peer in but not quite see what's going on, is a really tantalising thing - it makes you hungry and gives you a certain amount of ambition.' He lived in a council house with his father, a taxi-driver, his mother, an artist, and his sister, who 'escaped' at the age of 15. 'I didn't go to any gigs,' he says. 'I didn't like all the bands that were around - Echo and the Bunnymen and all that stuff.' Anderson's taste was more obscure - he liked hard, punky bands - Crass, the Exploited.

After attending Manchester University for two weeks, Anderson moved to London with Osman. 'Before we met Bernard,' he says, 'it was just me and Mat in my bedroom with this rubbish drum machine, writing awful songs.' Then they auditioned for a guitarist, and chose Bernard Butler, who worried Anderson because he was 'too good'. They also auditioned for a drummer, and picked Simon Gilbert, who tells me over the telephone: 'I heard a tape of their early stuff. I said, this sounds really good, but they need a drummer.'

'And then it just . . . took off?'

'Oh, no. We played all the shitty gigs for a year and a half. We played the Amersham Arms in New Cross to one person.'

'Do you remember the moment when the rock press discovered you?'

'Yes. I remember the first few reviews. I'll get it out of my scrapbook if you like.'

BRETT Anderson, sitting precariously on the window-ledge, with his feet balanced on the radiator, talks about Suede's first album. His favourite song is 'So Young', a full-tilt anthem of slashing guitars and pained howling, a great song - which, like so much of Suede's material, recalls the prancing confidence of Marc Bolan, of early Bowie. 'It deals with the knife- edge of being young,' says Anderson, who is 25. 'There's the desperation and all the pitfalls, but then actually turning them into something hopeful and beautiful that looks forward and that isn't negative.

'It's a rejection of the traditional English character,' he goes on. 'A desire to push all the claustrophobia and tat and bits and pieces away, and stride into the future, which isn't the most original thought in the world, but maybe one of the most important.'

'So will success spoil you as a musician then? What if you get comfortable?'

'I don't really feel as though I could ever be comfortable.'

And now, a week before the release of Suede's first album, Anderson must go to a studio to meet Bernard Butler and write songs for the second album, tentatively scheduled for release early in the new year. He has also been thinking about the video for the next single. 'Up to now,' he says, 'we've been playing on the grittiness of it all. But I wanna take it all to a different level; I wanna use nature more. I've got this image in my head of these horses galloping, and then I'd have it superimposed, and make it a lot more beautiful, a lot more floating, a lot more . . . implied.'

Anderson gets down off the window-ledge. By the time the stuff he will write this afternoon is in the shops, he might be just a vague memory. Then again, meeting him is something I might boast about to my grandchildren. Who knows? Nobody, yet.

[letterboxd]

Play.

“When something is cute, it puts the audience at ease, and that builds the horror more.”

We talk to the team behind a new reboot of the 80s horror classic Child’s Play.

The new Child’s Play reboot is unique among reboots in that the series it is rebooting remains an ongoing concern. The original Child’s Play came out in 1988 and spawned no fewer than six sequels. Although the last two skipped theaters to be released straight to home entertainment platforms, the series has maintained an admirable level of quality and consistency thanks to the continued presence of original screenwriter Don Mancini, who wrote all seven movies and directed the last three.

He’s currently putting together a Chucky television show that continues the often innovative mythology of the features. But in one of those only-in-Hollywood situations, two separate companies currently own the rights to make Child’s Play films, and Mancini has nothing to do with the new film, which puts a modern spin on the Chucky story.

When the reboot was announced, Mancini threw a little shade on the film, apparently (and understandably) concerned that it would muddy the waters around his upcoming TV show.

Jennifer Tilly, who voiced Chucky’s girlfriend Tiffany in the gonzo fourth movie, Bride of Chucky, and co-starred as herself in the meta fifth movie, Seed of Chucky, also expressed her displeasure with the remake.

Mancini appears to have declined an executive producer credit on the new film, which was shepherded into existence by the top studio horror producers of the moment: Seth Grahame-Smith and David Katzenberg, who were also behind the insanely successful It and its upcoming sequel.

You wouldn’t know it from the original film’s poster, which seems positively ashamed of the film it was selling, but the conceit at the heart of the 1988 film existed as a direct response to heavily marketed dolls of the era such as Teddy Ruxpin and the Cabbage Patch Kids. The new film updates Chucky’s origin so that it similarly reflects a heavily marketed contemporary product: smart toys.

While the original Brad Dourif-voiced Chucky was, sorry, is a talking doll who became possessed by the soul of a serial killer, the new Chucky is an artificially-intelligent robot friend who turns murderous when his programming is tampered with. And he’s voiced by Mark Hamill.

Aubrey Plaza (Ingrid Goes West) stars in the film as Karen, a single mom who takes home a returned Chucky from the big-box store where she works and gifts it to her son Andy, played by Gabriel Bateman (who previously encountered a sinister doll in Annabelle).

Norwegian filmmaker Lars Klevberg directed the new Child’s Play, which was written by Tyler Burton Smith. Klevberg’s American feature debut, Polaroid (an expansion of his own 2015 Norwegian short), has yet to be released in the States due to the Weinstein Company’s ongoing problems.

Letterboxd caught up with Plaza, Bateman, Klevberg and Smith at this year’s Wondercon.

Aubrey Plaza as Karen and Gabriel Bateman as Andy.

What was your reaction when you were offered this film? Aubrey Plaza (Karen): I was so honored that they thought I could pull that character off and took a chance on me and, I dunno… Chucky is an iconic character in the history of film so I feel really lucky to be a part of it. I’m really excited about that.

I play a woman named Karen Barclay who is a single mom. Her son is named Andy and she’s kind of a young mom doing the best she can and struggling a bit but trying to provide for her son. She ends up giving Andy a toy for his birthday that starts to try to kill everybody, so… but Karen thinks that her son is kind of losing his mind. So she’s going through a lot.

And Chucky was on set while you were filming? AP: Oh yes, we did a lot of things practically, so the doll was there at all times.

What do you think fans of the original should expect from the new Child’s Play? AP: I think they should expect a total re-imagining of this character. I think the whole idea behind it is: how could Chucky be relevant right now? And the idea of making Chucky a smart doll is kind of brilliant and it’s a cool way to bring Chucky back into the theaters, you know? And show a whole new generation of people how terrifying that doll can be.

Is it tough making something that is cute also scary? Tyler Burton Smith (screenwriter): I think in some ways when something is cute or funny, it puts the audience at ease in a way, because they feel like it’s safe and I think in some ways that builds the horror more. When you feel safe with a character or with a product or with a thing, seeing that transform into something dark is a lot easier. Because you’re put at ease and then you’re fighting against that. So I think that’s kind of a fun dynamic shift in a way.

‘Child’s Play’ director Lars Klevberg (left) with cinematographer Brendan Uegama.

This is an R-rated horror with kids in peril—is it tricky to know how far to go with that? Lars Klevberg (director): Well, there are different levels, when you’re making a movie, of how far you wanna push it. When you’re dealing with a Child’s Play movie, when you introduce Chucky as a toy, of course there will be kids involved. We bumped up the age a little bit on this one, which I think was a smart move. Andy’s no longer eight, he’s thirteen. But we’re dealing with a movie that takes an object that everybody loves—a doll, a toy—which is in many ways when you’re young, it’s kind of your safe spot. And you turn that around and what you love and trust in your fantasy world when you’re young turns against you, so suddenly your fantasy world becomes very very real and that’s interesting.

Screenwriter Tyler Burton Smith.

This is a separate project to the original Chucky franchise, which is still going. How did having the original creator of Chucky vocalize his opposition to this film affect you, if at all? TBS: We love the original Child’s Play. We love Don Mancini. I grew up on Child’s Play, it’s just an awesome movie and we wanna make the best version of that possible. It’s unfortunate that he’s not more involved in this movie. It would’ve been amazing to work with him on this, but we love Child’s Play as a whole, we love him and just wanna make the best version of a Child’s Play film possible.

LK: With something like this, it’s an iconic IP, of course you think about it, but you get the script and you read the script and you connect to the story and the characters and for me as a director that’s where it starts. And you have to be able to separate that and just focus on what’s there on the page, which we did. Tyler has a big brain, and he was able to get in a lot of those things that made the first one successful. I kind of jumped on and went back and watched all the movies and I was amazed by how the atmosphere was still there.

What do you think the key differences are in this version? TBS: A big part of it is the doll in the original film was just a stationary doll that you played with and it had these lines that it would say, but otherwise it was just a doll. The idea of updating that and asking what this toy would be now, or five years from now in the future, the idea of a different kind of product that is more technologically advanced was definitely kind of at the heart of it, but definitely keeping a lot of the elements that made the original great.

When I figured out the direction they wanted to go I thought it was a great balance of being a tribute to the original and doing something new with the franchise at the same time. It wasn’t just an excuse to remake a movie, it felt like a lot of people who loved the original who wanted to do an awesome reinvention of that concept. I was a bit nervous at first, but once we found the direction for it, I was really excited. I think we found a cool fresh take on that film.

Gabriel Bateman as Andy in ‘Child’s Play’ (2019).

You dealt with practical Chucky dolls on set—did you ever get concerned they might turn on you? Gabriel Bateman (Andy): No, not really. I don’t know how much I can say but the animatronic dolls don’t really have all that much motion. But I mean, when I’m actually filming and the cameras are rolling, I feel afraid, because I’m trying to be the character, but as soon as the cameras cut, it’s the same.

You’ve been in a lot of horror, but you’re totally a kid. Have you ever seen any of the horror stuff that you’ve been in? GB: I don’t think there’s ever been something that I didn’t watch that I was in. I think I’ve watched everything.

Were you excited about the idea of being in a remake of Child’s Play? GB: I kind of figured out that it was Child’s Play from the [audition] side, so I watched it pretty early on, but I was really excited. A lot of my family were fans of the original trilogy before, so I was always familiar with it. So yeah, I was definitely excited.

What do you think Child’s Play fans will make of the film? GB: We’re not trying to take away from the original in any way. It’s just a re-imagination of Chucky as a character, so I just hope people can enjoy it as its own film, without comparing to the original.

‘Child's Play’ will be in theaters on June 20.

[hmuhussar]

Misunderstandings

A/N: I’m sorry if there’s typos, it’s four in the morning and I just had to finish it! I hope y’all enjoy x

Word count: 4953 (looong)

After Zane had received notice that the group of five would have to move out by the end of their lease due partly to the numerous complaints from neighbours about noise and unnecessary disruptions but overall because of the 1,400 pounds of dry ice they had dumped into their pool, Toddy had the genius idea of throwing a celebratory party for all of the good times they'd experienced at their shared residence.  The boys were immediately on board and decided to throw the biggest party they've ever thrown before in remembrance of their soon to be ex-home. Invitations were sent out to anyone that'd ever spent time over at their house, and of course their friends as well as friends of friends. There was no doubt that this party was going to be one of the biggest their neighbourhood had ever seen from the vlog squads house yet, and you had the privilege of going.

You were fairly new to the group of friends, as you had only moved to California five months ago and had only just been welcomed into the group four months ago after you Toddy finally asked you out to lunch after bumping into each other at the gym on numerous occasions. At first you thought it was a date, which put you slightly on edge. Todd had taken you to a moderately empty café which looked as if it was created in the image of it being the perfect setting for a couple's first date, and although it was lovely, it only made you feel even more awkward. Yes, Todd was undeniably cute and funny - never failing to make you laugh during work outs, but he wasn't exactly your type. You liked Todd, which is why you agreed to go, but you just didn't like him in that way, believe it or not.

Being alone with him made you feel uneasy, almost as if you were constantly on the edge of your seat; full high alert. You feared that if Todd did bring you out with the intent to date you, you dreaded that you would ultimately have to reject him, which only made you more uncomfortable as you didn't want to ruin your first and only friendship in California.  A few had minutes passed and the two of you talked about the expected small talk topics. Such as how you were finding life in LA and whether or not you were settling in, but it wasn't until four unfamiliar faces took up the empty seats at your table that you felt less uneasy, but more confused at the situation.

"Hey guys, I hope you don't mind I brought a friend of mine from the gym to have lunch with us" Todd said in a rather chipper voice.

"Oh sure, yeah, 'Friend'" The older man teased, which made you to laugh, half embarrassed at the unexpected comment. "I'm only kidding, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Jason" He said extending a hand out for you to shake it, which you did happily, all the while appreciating his humour and straightforward nature.

As Jason sat down everyone introduced themselves to you. Next was Scotty, you remember admiring the detail and mix of tattoos sprawled across his body, as well as the golden gleam he resonated when he smiled at you. Then it was Zane who you immediately felt welcomed with, because of his warm and inviting personality, it was if everything about him made you smile. You felt  home with these people, comfortable. It was like you were all old friends meeting up for the first time in a long time and they all made you feel this way. All except for Heath. Heath was the last person to introduce himself, and when your gaze met his your stomach did a backflip, your prior thoughts melted away into puddles, it was hard to believe you could feel this way by simply introducing themself.

The more you got to know Heath the more you started to like him. He was unquestionably funny and you loved the relationship he and Zane seemed to share. From that day on, whenever you and Toddy met up at the gym, he'd bring you along to lunch with the boys and soon from there, they invited you to come over and hang out. From that point on your friendship's bloomed. You learned more about their vine careers as well as their youtube personalities and came to make even more friends, especially David, and Liza.

The days went by and you all became closer, you couldn't thank Toddy enough for helping you settle into LA and making you feel welcome, although out of all of your new friends, you spent time with Zane and Heath the most. You even had the privilege of being apart of a few of their coffee talks, which you loved being apart of more than anything - they were certainly a lot more enjoyable than David's pranks that's for sure, but if you were honest with yourself, you spent as much time alone with Heath as you could. Even upon first meeting Heath you knew you liked him and the more time you spent with the even stronger your feelings grew, but you tried your hardest to ignore them. It was no secret that Heath had no shame in getting up close and personal with whoever, so whenever it seemed like he was flirting with you or treating you like he saw you as more than just a friend, you ignored it. To you, that was just Heath being Heath, nothing more, nothing less. Of course that little mantra didn't help with the little heart aches you'd feel when the two of you were together.

Even though you were sure that Heath only saw you as a friend, when Scott invited you to their fair well party, Heath kept on asking you if you were going and seemed almost concerned when you teasingly hinted that you wouldn't be even though you were. It was unlike Heath to be this paranoid, he was almost always badgering you about the subject, he would even offer to pick you up and drop you off  if that meant you coming to the party would be set in concrete. Every time he offered you'd always decline, assuring him that he had nothing to worry about as 'you wouldn't miss it for the world', then he'd sigh in relief and give you a look as though you had lifted the weight of the world off his heavy shoulders. Whenever he did this you couldn't help but blush, he was so cute you almost wished he wouldn't look at you that way, because it only made you fall harder.

The night of the party came quickly. You arrived a few hours early to help the boys set up their impressive array of food and alcohol choices, as well as hiding anything breakable from Christine. Zane was in charge of setting up the cheap 99c store decorations, Scott was tidying up the house, Todd was cleaning the pool area, Elton was setting up a safe space for Circa and you were in charge of setting up the food. As you continued to work you realised you hadn't seen Heath anywhere. Part of the reason you came to the party was to spend time with him and he wasn't there? Heath spent all that time assuring that you'd be here and he wasn't even here? What game was Heath playing at?

"Hey, Zane?" You questioned sheepishly.

"Yeah, baby girl?" He replied sassily, keeping his focus on the decorations.

"Uh, you haven't seen Heath around have you?"

"Um, I think he's picking up a girl?"

You froze. 'A girl?' you thought to yourself.

"Like, his girlfriend?" You asked, trying to sound calm.

"Maybe?" Zane stated uncertain, continuing to hang up random banners.

"Oh, okay, thanks" You thanked Zane and walked away.

You didn't know how to feel. You congratulated yourself for not getting your hopes up, but that didn't overweigh the feeling of disappointment that had overcome you. Of course Heath had a girlfriend, he probably wanted you to come to the party so he could introduce you to her, nothing more, nothing less. These thoughts swelled inside your head, you almost felt numb. You were supposed to be setting up the confectionaries but you didn't know what to do with yourself. Even though you didn't allow yourself to think that Heath had feelings for you, you always secretly hoped that he did, but now there was no chance of that happening.

"Hey, are you okay?" A familiar voice questioned you.

You snapped out of your daydream, only to look up and see Toddy looking down at you with a worried expression.

"Uh, y-yeah, just got lost in a daydream is all" You laughed and smiled to put Todd at ease.

"Really?" He wasn't convinced.

"Yeah, totally" You continued to smile up at him.

"Okay, it's just you looked a little sad when I walked in and you kinda just stayed in place for a while" Todd smiled nervously, rubbing the back of his head.

"Oh - Yeah, nothing to worry about. Just a stupid daydream"

There was a brief moment of silence between the two of you. Todd looked at down at you and his eyes seemed to sparkle when he looked in your direction. His mouth sat sweetly in a charming smile which only caused you to smile in return.

"Well, uh, I'm done outside. Do you need any help here?" He gestured to the numerous unopened boxes of alcohol and snacks in front of you.

"Yeah, I'd like that"

The two of you were opening boxes and bags of drinks and snacks, but most of all you were laughing together. When you and Todd were together, your humour's correlated perfectly. A lot of your jokes were fired quickly to which Todd could fire back just as fast, not to mention you absolutely loved how Todd could keep up with your banter. The two of you spoke for so long you lost track of time and by the time the two of you had finished your set up people started to arrive.

The night started off with a boom. The house was full almost immediately, to the point where some people had to hang out in the drive way of the house. The music was pumping and everyone was having the time of their lives. Todd had helped you get your mind off Heath and when David and Liza showed up, they only made you feel better. David had brought four 26 pound gummy snakes which drove everyone insane and with Gabbie and Liza dancing, everyone followed suit, needless to say you were having the time of your life, all until you spotted Heath.

At first you were excited, you had forgotten what had happened to make you sad, until you saw her. An unfamiliar blonde whom you'd never seen before was standing next to Heath, a little too close for your liking if you were honest. You immediately disliked her, it was petty but it's how you felt, you weren't going to deny that. You stood still in the middle of a room full of raving people. You were the anger in a sea of ecstatic people, but you didn't care.

You then walked up to Zane Toddy and pulled the both of them backwards by their shoulders. You brought them back to the place you were standing, a spot in the middle of the dance floor where you could see Heath and the blonde conversing in the kitchen.

"y/n what hell?" Zane shouted drunkenly over the music.

"Do you guys know who she is?" You shouted back, almost as drunk.

"The blonde?" Todd asked.

"Yeah" you shouted in reply.

"Maybe it's Heath's girlfriend?" Todd replied.

"Yeah, that's what I thought?" Zane commented.

"Haven't they been going out for a while now?" Todd said, looking at Heath jokingly.

You fell silent. Todd must've noticed your mood drop as he immediately shouted back,

"I'm kidding, y/n!" Todd shouted

When you looked over again, Heath and the girl had disappeared. You were glad you didn't have to watch them together anymore, but you were sad Heath was gone.

"Hey-" Zane said, looking down at you sympathetically. "Why don't we go in the kitchen and get shit faced?" He continued, looking rather excited.

"Thanks, Zane" You smiled up at him, happily taking the arm he offered out to you with Toddy linking with your other arm.

It wasn't long after that  that the party began to die down and people started to go home. The only people still hanging around were basically the all of those featured in any of the squad's vlogs. You were still in the kitchen with Zane and Todd, although you were now joined by Elijah, David, Liza and Gabbie. Your conversations were quiet but rowdy all the same, with the main theme of conversation being the frat-party vibe you were getting from each other because of the seven of you drinking from red solo cups. It was chill, but you were still having a great time with your friends with your only worry being Christine, since she hadn't done anything destructive all night, you were almost certain there was a storm of chaos brewing.

"So, y/n, have you thought about becoming a vlogger like the rest of us?" Elijah asked, taking another sip of his bear.

"What? no way? no one would watch me anyway" You laughed.

"Oh, shut the hell up, whenever you're in my vlogs there are people down in the comments asking me when you're gonna start your own channel" Zane shouted sassily.

"I'm only gonna admit it this one time but same here" David added, raising his hand in defeat.

You couldn't help but blush at their support. You had thought about making your own channel but weren't sure if you'd just be seen as a copy cat or some LA vlogger cliché.

"Same here" A familiar voice commented from behind David.

With one swift movement, Heath now stood across the space from you, between David and Todd. His eyes scanned the room to see who was occupying the space, and as soon as his eyes laid their sights on you, he stopped.

"Oh my god, y/n, I've been looking for you" Heath's face lit up, but it wasn't enough for you to hold back the bitterness that'd been brewing inside you the entire night.

"Oh you have, have you?" Your words had bite, with the attention to sting the person they were directed at, and by the looks of it, it worked.

Heath's smile faded into a look of confusion, with the entirety of the room looking between the two of you, in absolute awe at the tension that had just built up between you and Heath.

"Uh, y-yeah, I was-" Heath paused, "You look absolutely amazing by the way" He laughed nervously, red tinting his cheeks ever so slightly.

You had planned on given Heath the cold shoulder, but due to his nervous fumbling compliment your mouth scrunched up as you tried to hold back your smile, but to no avail, you just couldn't fight it. In return, Heath's face lit up once more, flashing that million dollar smile that you had been waiting to admire the entire night.

"So, how's it going in here guys-" Before Heath could finish his sentence, Christine came bursting into the kitchen. Pushing past Heath and David and running up to Elijah who was leaning on the counter space next to you. Christine's spontaneous entry startled you, but it was nothing you hadn't witnessed before, you were only worried about what came next.

"ELIJAH, ELIJAH!" Christine shouted urgently, grabbing Elijah by the shoulder.

"What the fuck, Christine? What do you want?" Elijah spat his words at her sourly, but it didn't seem to phase her.

"I have to- I have to show you this cool thing I found" Christine explain, her words slurred. She was now forcefully pulling at Elijah's arm, signaling for him to follow her, but he protested.

"Christine, I'm not interested in whatever 'cool' thing you found at our friends' house" Elijah stated bluntly, trying to keep his ground in the spot he was occupying.

The two of them were now playing tug-of-war with one another, Elijah was at a slight advantage as he wasn't as out of it as Christine was. Everyone in the area began to smile and laugh at the shenanigans now occurring in the tiny kitchen space. Phones were brought out and videos were being recorded, only to be pasted to Instagram and Snapchat seconds later. Needless to say you found Elijah and Christine's relationship amusing, all until Christine finally managed to pull Elijah away from the kitchen, only he had bumped into your arm forcefully in the process. The bump caused your arm to jolt towards you, and the contents of your red solo cup came out with it, covering you in keg grade alcohol. You sat there on the counter, looking down at the mess that had now been sprawled out across some of your best clothing, your mouth gapping open slightly in surprise.

Everyone looked at you concerned and awkward, awaiting your reaction nervously. After a few seconds, you sat up straight and looked forward.

"I'm surprised to say that I never thought I'd be the victim of one of Christine's drunken antics" You sniggered and laughed at everyone's surprised and relieved facials. You could tell everyone was expecting a chaotic reaction but what you delivered is what kept the night alive and well.

"Jesus, I thought you were gonna freak out!" Liza said through laughter.

"I thought the exact same thing, I was actually a little terrified" Zane added, struggling to stop his laughter.

"Ooooh but your cute outfit though" Gabbie commented, jokingly frowning.

"Here," Toddy said removing his shirt from his toned frame, "You can wear my shirt" Todd handed you his shirt and then winked at you flirtatiously, causing gossiping whispers and cheers to break out within the group.

"Uh, thanks, Todd-" You blushed laughing.

"You know I can take you to my room and you can change" Heath interjected seriously, his expression differing from the rest of the group.

"Wait, really?" Heath's offer surprised you more than his expression, as he didn't usually let just anyone in his room.

"Yeah, I mean, you don't wanna wear Toddy's shirt. He's drunk and he's been wearing it all day. I'll open my closet and you can change into whatever" Heath explained trying to sound nonchalant, earning suspiciously smug looks from everyone who heard.

"Sure," You said simply.

"Okay, let's go." Heath said placing his beer on the counter, leading you to his bedroom.

When you got to Heath's room you could hear the muffled music through the walls. The light flickered on slowly, illuminating the room dimly, revealing an unexpectedly well-kept room.

"Sorry about the lighting, I think I gotta buy a new bulb," Heath said, walking over to his mirrored closet.

"It's cool, I don't mind" You said, shooting Heath a warm grin. He looked away, looking slightly flushed.

Heath opens the closet doors dramatically, revealing an array of hung up shirts and jackets.

"Uh, so you can pick our a shirt or a hoodie and I'll see if Kristen has any shorts or pants you can wear." Heath smiled.

When Heath left you could feel yourself heat up. You were alone in his room, and it just felt so right to be there. You like the simplicity of his decoration and the organisation of his wardrobe as  you gradually looked through the numerous shirts and hoodies Heath owned. After a few minutes of browsing your choices, you found it. The simple black shirt that Heath always wore. You loved it when he wore this shirt as it hugged him in all the right places and would often, accentuate the bulk of his biceps.

You checked your surroundings to make sure it was safe to remove you clothing - clear. You removed your alcohol soaked clothes and checked to see if it'd left a scent on you, which it had, but it was nothing a little cologne or perfume couldn't fix. You threw on Heath's shirt which draped over you nicely, it filled you with delight when you noticed his shirt stilled smelled of him.

You put on your thigh high boots and began to admire yourself in Heath's mirror. You couldn't help it, this shirt really did look good on you, especially paired with your boots. You began looking at yourself from different angles, completely enthralled by your simple but cute outfit.

"I really do look cute" You complimented yourself.

You were still in front of the mirror when Heath walked in with a pair of black white striped shorts.

"Kristen thought that these might be more-" Heath paused when he looked up at you, his eyes hungrily eating at your image, taking in every inch of you. "-your style." he continued, still stunned.

"Is it too much? I can change into something else or-" You mumbled.

"No, no it's fine just- wow, I never thought I'd have someone else wearing my favourite shirt" Heath laughed.

You were still apprehensive, averting your stare to the floor.

"-and look this good in it" He smirked.

Your head shot up with a jolt, you weren't expecting to hear, let alone from Heath.

"You think so?"

"Hell yeah, baby"

Heath then walked over to you with a sly smirk on his face as his eyes devoured you, getting more and more in-depth visuals with every step he took towards you.

"Here." He said, handing you the shorts.

"Thanks, cowboy" You replied, playfully flicking his cowboy hat.

The shorts were a little bot smaller than your usual size, but they fit nonetheless. You tucked the front of the shirt loosely into the hem of the shorts and your new outfit was complete, and not to be bashful, you looked good, and Heath knew it. You turned to look at him, but he didn't react. He had sat down on the black leather couch across the room, leaning back relaxed, watching the way your body moved. You'd never seen Heath look at you the way he was now. His eyes were drowned in lust as he took in every inch of your figure.

"Heath?" His head shot up, his body following suit. Your voice had pulled him back to reality.

"U-uh, you can keep your clothes here and I can wash 'em for you" He laughed nervously, desperately trying to change the subject.

"Yeah, sure. Thanks, Heath" You said just as nervous.

The room filled with an awkward silence as Heath stood on one side of the room with you directly across from him. Your mind raced and your heart pounded, you'd never been alone with Heath in his room before. If anything this was the perfect opportunity for either of you to make a move, but you were hesitant. You weren't sure if Zane and Todd were joking about Heath's mysterious unknown girlfriend or not, so you didn't want to make a move and have the rumour be true, consequently ruining yours and Heath's relationship. As time past the silence became progressively more deafening. You were both lost for words.

"Hey-" Heath spoke, finally breaking the silence, "-I'm really glad you came tonight." Heath said, taking small steps towards you.

"I told you I would be, didn't I?" You responded teasingly, standing your ground, waiting for Heath to come to you.

"You did, I'm just happy you're here, y/n. With me."

You and Heath were now inches apart from each other. Your face was burning hot and you felt as if your feet were cemented in place; you couldn't move even if you're life depended on it. Your heart rate increased rapidly, you could feel it beating in your chest. It was so strong, you feared Heath could hear it.

"What're you doing?" You question, keeping your attention to the floor. You couldn't bear to look him in the eye.

"Nothing, just that you wearing my shirt is driving me crazy" He said lowly, slowly raising his hand to your cheek, caressing it tenderly with his thumb.

You held his hand in place and leaned into his touch. His other hand then rested on your hip, pulling you closer into him.

"Heath I-" You were hesitant to confess, even though this was the prime time to do so. You knew what was happening but it all felt like a complete fantasy. You had dreamed of this moment since the day you met Heath, but now that it was happening it all felt so surreal.

"It's okay, baby" Heath whispered.

He ran his through from your cheek to your hair, and you snaked your arms behind his neck and did the same, the both of you pulling one another closer. Your breaths became heavy, your heart beats beating in time, you could stand the suspense, although still apprehensive to make a move of your own. Heath then leaned down to the base of your neck and left a trail of vehement kisses leading up your neck, stopping just below your jaw bone to leave a teasingly passionate hickey. You held back moans, gripping at Heaths hair to control yourself, but he pushed you over the edge; your moan only making him nip at your sensitive skin harder.

After leaving his mark, Heath came up for air. He was breathing heavily and you did the same, it was simple but intense. Passionate. Everything you'd dreamed of and more. As Heath caught his breath, you finally looked into each other's eyes and it was clear what was coming next.

"I've been waiting for this ever since I met you" He breathed.

"Shut up"

You crashed your lips into Heath's, engulfing each other in a drunken haze of passion and lust. As expected, Heath tasted of cigarettes and alcohol and it didn't bother you in the slightest. Your mind was racing and everything melted away. Nothing mattered to you in that moment, not until the question scratched at the back of your mind - Heath's girlfriend.

Even though you didn't want to, you pushed Heath away. He looked at you worried and confused, concerned that he may have done something to hurt you.

"What's wrong? Did I do something-"

"No it's not that just-" You spoke frantically "W-what about your girlfriend?"

"Girlfriend?!" Heath shouted, seemingly surprised.

At that moment, Heath's lightbulb gave out with a loud pop. The two of you were masked by darkness.

"Oh fuck- it's okay I got it" Heath said fumbling around, feeling for his room lamp.

You knew Heath's room well enough to know where the lamp was yourself, in your awkward state you attempted to find Heath's lamp as well just so you could do something, other than stand there in the night.

Heath found the light a mere second before you did, in the confusion, you bumped into Heath's frame causing the two of you to fumble around, trying to regain your balance's. Heath fell backward onto his bed, pulling you down with him. You landed on top of his chest, coincidentally butting your foreheads together. You groaned in pain and laid your head on Heath's chest. Although it was unnecessary and your intimate connection ended abruptly, you began to laugh, as did Heath as he too understood the stupidity of the situation.

When you calmed down, you lifted your head up to look at Heath, smiling giddily.

"What are we doing?" You laughed, looking down into Heath's mesmerizing eyes.

"We? What're you doing, baby? I don't got no damn girlfriend" Heath laughed.

"But Zane and Toddy were telling me-"

"Ugh, of course it was - fuck!" Heath then sat up, causing you to straddle him in the process, resting your hands on his shoulders with Heath holding your hips for support.

"What're you talking about?"

"Those two knew that I liked you and kept telling me that you liked me. I didn't believe them, so they obviously tried to wingman" Heath looked away embarrassed.

"I swear- Then why weren't you at the house helping us set up?" You looked down at him puzzled.

"I was picking up Meghan, y'know, the one I told you about?"

That name clicked. Heath had talked about you meeting Meghan for weeks, he was so excited whenever he talked about it, he always spoke about how well the two of you would get along and how much he couldn't wait for you to meet her. From those memories, it all fell into place.

"Oooooooh" You blushed, you now understood what was going on.

"Yeeeeeeeeah" Heath dragged.

"So, that blonde you were with, that was-"

"Yep"

"So, you don't have a-"

"Nope" He smiled up at you, adoring how cute you were being.

"Ugh, I feel so stupid" You said, resting your forehead on Heath's.

"Y'know, I don't have a girlfriend but-"

"Yeah" You smiled.

"But, y'know, if you wanted to you could maybe-" He scratched the back of his head nervously.

"Uh-huh" You could feel the excitement bubbling inside you.

"Ugh, fuck it, will you go out with me?"

"Very straight forward, baby" You teased.

"Is that a yes" He smiled wide.

"That's a yes" You smiled just as wide.

The two of you embraced in a long awaited kiss, unsure of whether or not the two of you wanted to return to the party, preferring to spend the night alone together for the first time. After all, you’d been waiting this long, might as well take advantage of your ‘last’ night in the old house by spending it with your baby, Heath.

[woodsens]

The Worst Advice We've Ever Heard About best portable keyboard

Correction Appended

On an album of bittersweet childrens songs that she wrote over ten years in the past, the lady who arrived for being recognised only given that the piano teacher available what, in hindsight, looks like an eerie glimpse of her own upcoming.

Im going away now to a spot so far-off, where nobody understands my name, she wrote within the lyrics of the track referred to as Transferring.

When she wrote that tune, she was young and vivacious, a piano Trainer and freelance songs author who liked Beethoven and jazz, sunsets and river sounds, extensive walks and every little thing about New York.

On a kind of beloved walks, through Central Park in the bright Sunlight of the June day in 1996, a homeless drifter beat her and attempted to rape her, leaving her clinging to lifetime. Once the attack, the words to her song arrived true. She moved absent, out of Ny city, from her previous daily life, and all but her closest good friends did not know her identify. To the remainder of the entire world, she was — just like the far more popular jogger attacked in Central Park seven decades before — an nameless image of an city nightmare. She was the piano teacher.

Now, to the tenth anniversary of the attack, she is celebrating what is apparently her entire recovery from brain trauma. She is 42, married, with a small child. She's Kyle Kevorkian McCann, the piano teacher, and he or she hopes to explain to her story, her way.

Her health care provider informed her it could choose a decade to Recuperate, and Sunday was that talismanic anniversary. I sense my existence has long been redefined by Central Park, she explained numerous days in the past, her voice delicate and hopeful. Right before park; following park. Will there ever be considered a time when I dont think, Oh, Here is the tenth anniversary, the eleventh anniversary?

She spoke in her modest ranch home within a wooded subdivision in a Ny suburb. She sat in the eating area strewn with toys, surrounded by pictures of her cherubic, darkish-haired 2-year-aged daughter. A Steinway grand loaded 50 % the place, and at one place she sat down and performed. Her enjoying was forceful, but she appeared humiliated to Enjoy more than a few bars, and shrugged, in lieu of answering, when questioned the name in the piece. She asked that her daughter and her town not be named.

She phone calls that day, June 4, 1996, the day After i was harm.

Hers was the primary inside of a string of assaults by the same male on four Ladies around 8 days. The last victim, Evelyn Alvarez, 65, was crushed to death as she opened her Park Avenue dry-cleaning shop, and in the end, the assailant, John J. Royster, was convicted of murder and sentenced to everyday living in jail.

Nevertheless the attack around the piano Instructor may be the 1 men and women feel to recall the most. Part of the fascination should do with echoes of the 1989 attack on the Central Park jogger. But Additionally, it frightened persons in a means the assault around the jogger did not for the reason that its situations ended up so mundane.

It did not take place inside of a remote A part of the park late during the night, but near a favorite playground at 3 from the afternoon. It might have happened to any individual. The tension was heightened because of the thriller of your piano lecturers id.

For 3 days, as law enforcement and Medical practitioners tried using to determine who she was, she lay inside of a coma in her medical center mattress, nameless. Her dad and mom have been on getaway and her boyfriend, also a musician, was in Europe, on tour. Finally, one among her students recognized a police sketch and was able to discover her while in the healthcare facility by her fingers, simply because her confront was swollen past recognition. The police didn't launch her title.

The very last thing she remembers about June 4, 1996, is providing a lesson in her studio condominium on West 57th Avenue, then Placing her prolonged hair in a very ponytail and heading out for a wander. She doesn't don't forget the attack, Even though she has read the accounts from the police and prosecutors.

To me its like a point I learned and memorized, she explained. As if I ended up a scholar in class researching record.

She will not take into consideration The person who did it. I may have been indignant to get a instant, but not much longer than that, she explained. How could I be indignant at John Royster? He was declared not insane, but I assume by our specifications he was.

Dr. Jamshid Ghajar, her health care provider at Ny Hospital-Cornell Health-related Center, as it had been recognised in 1996, instructed reporters that she had a 10 p.c potential for survival. Medical doctors had to remove her forehead bone, which was later on replaced, to generate home for her swelling Mind. When her mother built a community appeal to pray for my daughter, hundreds did.

Right after 8 times, she arrived away from a coma, initially in a very vegetative state, then in the childlike point out. As she recovered, she slept minimal and talked consistently, at times in gibberish. I was obtaining mad at people today if they didnt respond to these terms, she claimed.

Like an Alzheimers client, she experienced minor brief-expression memory and would overlook visitors the moment they left the room.

Around various months, she needed to relearn the way to wander, dress, read and write. Her boyfriend, Tony Scherr, frequented daily to play guitar for her. He inspired her to Enjoy the piano, in opposition to the advice of her physical therapists, who assumed she could be disappointed by her incapacity to Enjoy the best way she once experienced. Mr. Scherr played Beatles duets together with her, participating in the remaining-hand section while she performed the proper.

Which was my ideal therapy, she claimed.

In August, she moved back household to New Jersey, along with her father, an engineer, and mom, a schoolteacher. She visited aged haunts and named good friends, trying to revive her shattered memory. I was very obsessed with remembering, she said. Any memory reduction was to me an indication of abnormality or deficit.

Her therapists considered her development was fantastic, but her two sisters protested that she was not the deep thinker she had been.

What bothered her most was that she experienced misplaced the chance to cry, as if a faucet inside her brain had been turned off. A single night time, 9 months immediately after she was hurt, she stayed up late to view the John Grisham movie A Time to Kill. Just soon after her father experienced gone to bed, she viewed a courtroom scene of Samuel Jacksons character on demo for killing two Adult men who had raped his younger daughter.

The faucet opened, as well as tears trickled down her cheeks. I thought of my mother and father, my father, and the things they went as a result of, she mentioned. Minor by little, my sensation returned, my depth of thoughts returned.

Urged by her sisters, she went back again to school and acquired a masters degree in audio training.

Not every little thing went effectively. She and Mr. Scherr break up up five years once the attack, nevertheless they remain close friends. She dated other men, but she usually told them concerning the assault without delay — she could not assist it, she claimed — and they under no circumstances identified as for just a next date.

We've to find you a person, her Mate David Phelps, a guitar participant, claimed four several years back, in advance of introducing her to Liam McCann, a computer technician and beginner drummer. For the moment, she didn't say everything with regards to the assault until she bought to be aware of Mr. McCann, and after that when she did, he admired her energy.

Mayor Rudolph W. Giuliani, who experienced typically frequented her at her bedside while she was in the medical center, married them in his Times Sq. Business office. She wore a blue gown and pearls. Although she was Expecting, in a burst of creative imagination, she and her good friends recorded While Ended up Youthful, an album of childrens music that she experienced composed prior to the attack, including the track Shifting. Her ex-boyfriend, Mr. Scherr, created the CD. On it, her husband performs drums and he or she plays electric piano.

Is her everyday living as it had been? Not precisely, nevertheless she is hesitant to attribute the discrepancies to her accidents. Her previous two piano learners left her, without the need of calling to explain why, she reported. She has resumed participating in classical new music, but basic items, for the reason that her daughter would not give her time and energy to practice. As for jazz, I dont even consider, she stated.

She want to generate additional, sensation stranded from the suburbs, but she is well rattled. She tries to be material with remaining household and caring for her daughter.

Dr. Ghajar, a medical professor of neurological surgical treatment at exactly what is now termed New York-Presbyterian Hospital/Weill Cornell Healthcare Center, who operated on Ms. Kevorkian McCann following the attack, explained last week that her amount of recovery was uncommon. Shes essentially normal, he said.

Other specialists, who're not personally aware of Ms. Kevorkian McCanns scenario, tend to be more cautious.

Regaining a chance to play the piano may well involve an almost mechanical approach, a semiautomatic remember of exactly what the fingers ought to do, mentioned Dr. Yehuda Ben-Yishay, a professor of clinical rehabilitation drugs at The big apple College University of Medication. The moment brain-hurt, you might be normally brain-injured, for the rest of your lifetime, Dr. Ben-Yishay said. There isn't any cure, There's only intense payment.

The more telling A part of a Restoration, in his see, is psychological, and on that score he counts Ms. Kevorkian McCanns marriage and youngster as a significant victory.

For her part, the piano teacher knows she has improved, but she has built her peace with it. I was type of a hyper —— I dont know if I used to be a kind A, but I had been bold, she claims. Why was I so formidable? I was a piano Instructor. I dont understand what the ambition was about. I actually did come back to the person Im purported to be.

[redkiteradio]

30 of the Punniest best keyboard to learn piano

Correction Appended

On an album of bittersweet childrens music that she wrote a lot more than ten years back, the lady who arrived being regarded only since the piano teacher made available what, in hindsight, looks like an eerie glimpse of her have long term.

Im relocating away right now to a spot so far away, where nobody knows my identify, she wrote in the lyrics of a music known as Relocating.

When she wrote that song, she was young and vivacious, a piano Trainer and freelance music author who liked Beethoven and jazz, sunsets and river sounds, prolonged walks and anything about Big apple.

On a type of beloved walks, via Central Park in the intense Sunlight of a June working day in 1996, a homeless drifter beat her and made an effort to rape her, leaving her clinging to life. Once the assault, the phrases to her song arrived real. She moved absent, outside of Ny city, outside of her aged daily life, and all but her closest close friends did not know her name. To the remainder of the planet, she was — like the a lot more popular jogger attacked in Central Park seven years before — an anonymous image of the urban nightmare. She was the piano Instructor.

Now, to the tenth anniversary of the assault, she is celebrating what is apparently her entire Restoration from Mind trauma. She's 42, married, with a little child. She's Kyle Kevorkian McCann, the piano Instructor, and she or he hopes to inform her Tale, her way.

Her health practitioner advised her it could take ten years to Get well, and Sunday was that talismanic anniversary. I truly feel my life has become redefined by Central Park, she said several times back, her voice comfortable and hopeful. Prior to park; following park. Will there ever be described as a time After i dont Feel, Oh, Here is the tenth anniversary, the 11th anniversary?

She spoke in her modest ranch household within a wooded subdivision in the Big apple suburb. She sat within a dining place strewn with toys, surrounded by photographs of her cherubic, dark-haired 2-calendar year-old daughter. A Steinway grand filled 50 % the area, and at one particular stage she sat down and performed. Her actively playing was forceful, but she seemed humiliated to Enjoy more than a few bars, and shrugged, as an alternative to answering, when questioned the identify on the piece. She asked that her daughter and her town not be named.

She calls that working day, June 4, 1996, the working day when I was hurt.

Hers was the primary inside of a string of assaults by a similar person on 4 Women of all ages about eight times. The last victim, Evelyn Alvarez, 65, was crushed to death as she opened her Park Avenue dry-cleansing store, and finally, the assailant, John J. Royster, was convicted of murder and sentenced to lifetime in jail.

Yet the attack on the piano teacher would be the a single men and women seem to remember essentially the most. Element of the fascination needs to do with echoes of your 1989 assault over the Central Park jogger. But What's more, it frightened men and women in a method the assault around the jogger didn't for the reason that its situation ended up so mundane.

It didn't happen inside a distant Element of the park late at nighttime, but close to a popular playground at 3 inside the afternoon. It might have occurred to everyone. The strain was heightened through the thriller from the piano academics identification.

For three times, as police and Physicians tried out to determine who she was, she lay within a coma in her healthcare facility mattress, anonymous. Her dad and mom were being on holiday and her boyfriend, also a musician, was in Europe, on tour. Last but not least, certainly one of her pupils recognized a police sketch and was ready to identify her from the hospital by her fingers, for the reason that her encounter was swollen over and above recognition. The law enforcement didn't launch her identify.

The last thing she remembers about June 4, 1996, is giving a lesson in her studio condominium on West 57th Street, then Placing her extensive hair in the ponytail and going out for the walk. She isn't going to don't forget the attack, Whilst she has listened to the accounts on the law enforcement and prosecutors.

To me its similar to a truth I discovered and memorized, she mentioned. As if I had been a university student at school researching record.

She won't contemplate The person who did it. I might need been indignant for a second, although not for much longer than that, she said. How could I be offended at John Royster? He was declared not crazy, but I suppose by our standards he was.

Dr. Jamshid Ghajar, her health practitioner at Big apple Healthcare facility-Cornell Health-related Center, as it had been recognised in 1996, instructed reporters that she experienced a 10 percent probability of survival. Health professionals had to remove her forehead bone, which was afterwards changed, to generate home for her swelling Mind. When her mom manufactured a community appeal to pray for my daughter, thousands did.

Right after eight days, she came away from a coma, to start with inside of a vegetative state, then in a childlike condition. As she recovered, she slept tiny and talked continuously, at times in gibberish. I used to be obtaining mad at people today every time they didnt reply to these text, she reported.

Like an Alzheimers affected individual, she had small limited-expression memory and would forget site visitors once they still left the space.

Over several months, she needed to relearn the best way to wander, gown, browse and produce. Her boyfriend, Tony Scherr, visited every day to play guitar for her. He encouraged her to Engage in the piano, in opposition to the recommendation of her Bodily therapists, who imagined she could well be disappointed by her inability to Participate in how she the moment had. Mr. Scherr played Beatles duets with her, playing the still left-hand portion although she performed the ideal.

Which was my most effective therapy, she explained.

In August, she moved back property to New Jersey, with her father, an engineer, and mom, a schoolteacher. She frequented old haunts and known as pals, hoping to revive her shattered memory. I used to be incredibly obsessive about remembering, she reported. Any memory decline was to me an indication of abnormality or deficit.

Her therapists imagined her progress was fantastic, but her two sisters protested that she was not the deep thinker she had been.

What bothered her most was that she had dropped the ability to cry, like a faucet within her brain had been turned off. One evening, nine months soon after she was harm, she stayed up late to view the John Grisham Film A Time to Eliminate. Just after her father experienced long gone to mattress, she watched a courtroom scene of Samuel Jacksons character on trial for killing two Gentlemen who had raped his young daughter.

The faucet opened, and also the tears trickled down her cheeks. I considered my dad and mom, my father, and whatever they went through, she explained. Tiny by minor, my feeling returned, my depth of intellect returned.

Urged by her sisters, she went back to highschool and got a masters degree in tunes education.

Not every little thing went well. She and Mr. Scherr break up up five years after the assault, even though they continue to be friends. She dated other Guys, but she often advised them with regards to the attack immediately — she couldn't enable it, she mentioned — and they under no circumstances named to get a 2nd date.

We've to find you anyone, her Good friend David Phelps, a guitar participant, claimed 4 several years ago, ahead of introducing her to Liam McCann, a pc technician and newbie drummer. For at the time, she did not say something in regards to the attack right up until she bought to be aware of Mr. McCann, and after that when she did, he admired her toughness.

Mayor Rudolph W. Giuliani, who experienced normally frequented her at her bedside whilst she was in the healthcare facility, married them in his Occasions Sq. Place of work. She wore a blue dress and pearls. Even though she was pregnant, inside of a burst of creativity, she and her mates recorded When Were being Younger, an album of childrens tunes that she experienced written before the attack, including the music Shifting. Her ex-boyfriend, Mr. Scherr, created the CD. On it, her spouse performs drums and she plays electric powered piano.

Is her lifestyle as it was? Not precisely, nevertheless she's unwilling to attribute the variances to her injuries. Her final two piano college students left her, devoid of calling to elucidate why, she mentioned. She has resumed playing classical tunes, but straightforward parts, since her daughter will not give her time for you to observe. As for jazz, I dont even consider, she reported.

She want to generate additional, experience stranded while in the suburbs, but she is definitely rattled. She tries to be written content with keeping dwelling and caring for her daughter.

Dr. Ghajar, a scientific professor of neurological surgical procedures at what is now termed New York-Presbyterian Healthcare facility/Weill Cornell Medical Middle, who operated on Ms. Kevorkian McCann once the attack, mentioned very last week that her volume of recovery was scarce. Shes basically regular, he reported.

Other professionals, who will be not personally accustomed to Ms. Kevorkian McCanns case, are more cautious.

Regaining the opportunity to Enjoy the piano may well involve an Just about mechanical system, a semiautomatic remember of just what the fingers should do, stated Dr. Yehuda Ben-Yishay, a professor of medical rehabilitation medication at The big apple College School of Drugs. Once Mind-hurt, you happen to be usually brain-hurt, For the remainder of your life, Dr. Ben-Yishay said. There is not any remedy, there is only intensive compensation.

The greater telling Portion of a Restoration, in his view, is psychological, and on that rating he counts Ms. Kevorkian McCanns relationship and baby as a substantial victory.

For her element, the piano teacher understands she has changed, but she has built her peace with it. I was kind of a hyper —— I dont know if I had been a Type A, but I was bold, she says. Why was I so ambitious? I used to be a piano Trainer. I dont understand what the ambition was about. I actually did come back to the person Im alleged to be.

[homestuckcanonconfirmer]

The Top Reasons People Succeed in the best beginner keyboard Industry

Correction Appended

On an album of bittersweet childrens tracks that she wrote over ten years in the past, the girl who arrived to become recognised only since the piano Trainer presented what, in hindsight, seems like an eerie glimpse of her own long run.

Im transferring away currently to a spot so far away, wherever no one is aware my name, she wrote inside the lyrics of the track known as Relocating.

When she wrote that music, she was young and vivacious, a piano Trainer and freelance songs writer who loved Beethoven and jazz, sunsets and river Seems, long walks and every little thing about The big apple.

On a kind of beloved walks, by means of Central Park in the bright Sunlight of a June day in 1996, a homeless drifter conquer her and made an effort to rape her, leaving her clinging to daily life. Once the attack, the words to her track arrived true. She moved absent, out of Ny city, out of her old daily life, and all but her closest buddies did not know her identify. To the rest of the planet, she was -- like the much more famed jogger attacked in Central Park 7 many years before -- an nameless symbol of an city nightmare. She was the piano Instructor.

Now, on the tenth anniversary from the assault, she is celebrating what is apparently her entire recovery from Mind trauma. She's 42, married, with a small baby. She is Kyle Kevorkian McCann, the piano Instructor, and she or he desires to convey to her Tale, her way.

Her doctor informed her it would acquire 10 years to Get well, and Sunday was that talismanic anniversary. I experience my lifetime is redefined by Central Park, she stated several days in the past, her voice comfortable and hopeful. Before park; just after park. Will there ever certainly be a time when I dont Consider, Oh, This is actually the tenth anniversary, the 11th anniversary?

She spoke in her modest ranch home inside of a wooded subdivision in a Big apple suburb. She sat inside a eating place strewn with toys, surrounded by images of her cherubic, darkish-haired 2-12 months-outdated daughter. A Steinway grand filled 50 % the home, and at 1 stage she sat down and played. Her taking part in was forceful, but she seemed embarrassed to Engage in more than a few bars, and shrugged, as an alternative to answering, when requested the title of the piece. She asked that her daughter and her town not be named.

She phone calls that day, June 4, 1996, the day After i was damage.

Hers was the 1st inside of a string of assaults by the exact same person on 4 Girls in excess of 8 times. The last sufferer, Evelyn Alvarez, 65, was crushed to Demise as she opened her Park Avenue dry-cleaning shop, and ultimately, the assailant, John J. Royster, was convicted of murder and sentenced to lifetime in prison.

Still the assault within the piano teacher could be the just one men and women appear to be to keep in mind quite possibly the most. Portion of the fascination needs to do with echoes from the 1989 assault on the Central Park jogger. But Additionally, it frightened persons in a means the attack around the jogger didn't because its situations were being so mundane.

It didn't happen in a remote Portion of the park late during the night time, but in the vicinity of a well known playground at 3 while in the afternoon. It could have occurred to any individual. The tension was heightened by the mystery from the piano academics id.

For three days, as law enforcement and Health professionals tried to determine who she was, she lay in the coma in her clinic bed, nameless. Her mother and father ended up on getaway and her boyfriend, also a musician, was in Europe, on tour. Lastly, one among her pupils recognized a law enforcement sketch and was able to determine her from the healthcare facility by her fingers, because her deal with was swollen outside of recognition. The law enforcement didn't launch her title.

The last thing she remembers about June 4, 1996, is giving a lesson in her studio condominium on West 57th Street, then putting her prolonged hair in a very ponytail and likely out for just a wander. She won't don't forget the assault, Despite the fact that she has heard the accounts with the law enforcement and prosecutors.

To me its like a fact I uncovered and memorized, she reported. As though I were a college student in school studying history.

She would not think about the man who did it. I might need been offended for your instant, but not for much longer than that, she said. How could I be indignant at John Royster? He was declared not crazy, but I assume by our benchmarks he was.

Dr. Jamshid Ghajar, her physician at Big apple Hospital-Cornell Health care Center, as it was acknowledged in 1996, instructed reporters that she experienced a 10 per cent potential for survival. Medical practitioners had to remove her forehead bone, which was afterwards replaced, to make space for her swelling brain. When her mom designed a community attract pray for my daughter, hundreds did.

Immediately after eight days, she arrived away from a coma, first in a vegetative state, then in the childlike point out. As she recovered, she slept tiny and talked frequently, sometimes in gibberish. I was having mad at men and women once they didnt respond to these words, she said.

Like an Alzheimers affected person, she experienced tiny short-expression memory and would forget site visitors when they still left the room.

Above a number of months, she had to relearn the way to walk, dress, go through and write. Her boyfriend, Tony Scherr, visited each day to Enjoy guitar for her. He inspired her to Perform the piano, in opposition to the recommendation of her Actual physical therapists, who thought she could well be annoyed by her incapacity to Engage in the best way she after experienced. Mr. Scherr performed Beatles duets along with her, enjoying the left-hand part when she performed the correct.

Which was my ideal therapy, she mentioned.

In August, she moved back property to New Jersey, together with her father, an engineer, and mom, a schoolteacher. She frequented old haunts and called buddies, hoping to restore her shattered memory. I had been really obsessive about remembering, she mentioned. Any memory reduction was to me a sign of abnormality or deficit.

Her therapists imagined her progress was wonderful, but her two sisters protested that she was not the deep thinker she had been.

What bothered her most was that she experienced misplaced a chance to cry, as though a faucet within her brain had been turned off. A single evening, nine months just after she was damage, she stayed up late to watch the John Grisham Motion picture A Time for you to Eliminate. Just following her father had absent to bed, she watched a courtroom scene of Samuel Jacksons character on demo for killing two Guys who experienced raped his younger daughter.

The faucet opened, along with the tears trickled down her cheeks. I thought of my mother and father, my father, and the things they went through, she reported. Minimal by little, my sensation returned, my depth of thoughts returned.

Urged by her sisters, she went back to high school and acquired a masters degree in new music education.

Not anything went well. She and Mr. Scherr split up 5 years once the assault, however they remain pals. She dated other Males, but she always explained to them about the assault right away -- she couldn't assistance it, she claimed -- they usually in no way identified as for your 2nd date.

We have to search out you another person, her Pal David Phelps, a guitar player, reported 4 decades back, just before introducing her to Liam McCann, a computer technician and beginner drummer. For as soon as, she did not say nearly anything with regards to the attack right until she got to grasp Mr. McCann, after which you can when she did, he admired her toughness.

Mayor Rudolph W. Giuliani, who had typically visited her at her bedside whilst she was while in the medical center, married them in his Moments Square Workplace. She wore a blue dress and pearls. Even though she was Expecting, in a very burst of creativity, she and her friends recorded When Were Younger, an album of childrens tracks that she experienced created before the assault, including the tune Transferring. Her ex-boyfriend, Mr. Scherr, generated the CD. On it, her husband plays drums and he or she performs electrical piano.

Is her lifetime as it had been? Not exactly, however she is reluctant to attribute the discrepancies to her injuries. Her last two piano students left her, without calling to explain why, she stated. She has resumed enjoying classical new music, but basic parts, due to the fact her daughter isn't going to give her time for you to exercise. As for jazz, I dont even test, she mentioned.

She would like to push a lot more, emotion stranded while in the suburbs, but she is definitely rattled. She tries to be articles with keeping dwelling and caring for her daughter.

Dr. Ghajar, a medical professor of neurological operation at what exactly is now termed NewYork-Presbyterian Healthcare facility/Weill Cornell Health care Center, who operated on Ms. Kevorkian McCann following the assault, said previous week that her amount of recovery was uncommon. Shes essentially typical, he mentioned.

Other experts, who will be not personally aware of Ms. Kevorkian McCanns situation, are more cautious.

Regaining the opportunity to Perform the piano could entail an Practically mechanical process, a semiautomatic remember of just what the fingers need to do, claimed Dr. Yehuda Ben-Yishay, a professor of scientific rehabilitation medication at Big apple University School of Medication. At the time Mind-hurt, that you are generally brain-injured, For the remainder of your lifetime, Dr. Ben-Yishay said. There is absolutely no treatment, There exists only intense payment.

The more telling part of a Restoration, in his check out, is psychological, and on that score he counts Ms. Kevorkian McCanns relationship and baby as a substantial victory.

For her section, the piano Trainer is aware of she has altered, but she has designed her peace with it. I used to be type of a hyper ---- I dont know if I used to be a kind A, but I was formidable, she states. Why was I so bold? I used to be a piano Instructor. I dont really know what the ambition was about. I really did come back to the individual Im supposed to be.

Correction: June thirteen, 2006, Tuesday An write-up on Thursday about Kyle Kevorkian McCann, a piano teacher who was beaten and sexually assaulted ten years back in Central Park, misstated the title of her album of childrens tunes. It really is Whilst Ended up Youthful, not When Have been Young.

[letsprayitwritesitself]

groundhog dave part 6 afternoon four

9th January.

He couldn’t keep his eyes open. Like gravity was acting on them, forcing his eyelids down, yet when he indulged in a long blink, they burned. He made himself focus, squinting into his laptop screen and trying to figure out if the mysterious characters that he himself had written the night before were actually words.

Oh yeah I’ll wake up early and finish it in the morning, Jesus, when the fuck has that ever worked for anyone, God Davey.

He really wanted a cigarette. It was Friday morning, and he’d overslept. Kind of. If you could call making it to work at 7:15 oversleeping. 

It was a budget proposal for a new feature he’d managed to dream up midway through a weekend. A dry, boring piece of documentation he had to present to his superiors before being able to paint the air with his gorgeous ideas and assurances of how the feature would better the show (make them more money.) But his boss, who he’d emailed with the idea that Sunday morning, had given him a deadline of first thing Monday, giving him less than a day to get it together.

Why couldn’t they just trust him and give him a blank cheque?

Like an idiot he had let himself sleep, as soon as the words on the page started to become meaningless literally as he wrote them, and woke in a panic after five hours, pulled his clothes on and ran to the station, where he slammed his laptop down on his desk and hurriedly tried to finish the damn thing.

So maybe when Sheila from casting had brought the new weatherman over, he hadn’t exactly... noticed. Not straight away, anyway. He was busy.

‘And Jack, this is David, he’s one of our roving producers! You’ll be with him on the Groundhog... David?’ 

‘Huh?’ He looked up and blinked.

‘This is Jack, the new weatherman. First day!’

He tried to think. Man standing in front of him. Sheila from casting. Report. Deadline. Fuck. Fucking work. 

‘What?’

‘I’m Jack.’ Jack held out his hand. Davey glanced at it. He reached out and shook it, as he did so letting his eyes drift back to his laptop screen. Was that number right? That date?

‘Hey...’ He didn’t mean to be rude. But how could he meet someone new when he was clearly tied up in this? He had already forgotten this guy’s name. ‘It’s nice to...’ That figure was definitely wrong. Shit. ‘Sorry. This is.’ He meant to say a whole sentence but the rest fell away as he tried to locate his other spreadsheet, that little attention he’d spared utterly swept away. He didn’t see Jack bite his lip, raise his eyebrows and nod, and he didn’t see Sheila purse her lips and turn back to Jack.

‘Let’s get you introduced to make-up.’

Some time later, when the report was fired off, and he had the brain capacity to think about anything else, this encounter would dawn on him as a slightly embarrassing asshole move, but not one that he really had the time or inclination to fix. He couldn’t be too unhappy if he wasn’t best friends with everyone at the station, right? That wasn’t why he was there. 

//

February 2nd. Time four. Continued.

On his way into the square he saw Spot and a brief flame of self-consciousness flared up. Spot had no idea that they had - because they technically hadn’t... But then Davey had definitely - Christ. It felt icky. Like he had no right to know what Spot looked like in the throes of passion, and yet, as he stared at him, that was all he could think of (obviously, and it got more difficult to push away the more he tried.) Spot glanced at him as he attempted to force his mind away, and they locked eyes. He was wearing his signature glare, so Davey looked away immediately. But then. He knew, or could infer, from the other night that Spot... liked him. In some conceivable way. So he looked back up. And it felt dumb, but he let a lazy smile cross his face, and nodded his head just barely. Spot’s glare softened. Flirting - check. Ish.

He crossed to the far corner of the square, and to Jack and Crutchie. 

He felt like he could recite the ceremony word for word by now and resisted the urge to prove it, watching with a distant enthusiasm that was alien but not unwelcome. Right on cue after the broadcast snow started to fall.

‘It’s snowing!’ And he let himself be taken in just a little by Jack’s dazzling, childlike grin.

‘We weren’t expecting any snow, huh?’

‘Not ‘til tonight. Thought we’d be back before it started!’

‘You think we should get a move on, Dave?’ Crutchie eyed Davey as he crammed his camera back in its case. 

‘I feel like by the time we get to the highway we’ll be stuck here, this snow feels serious. You know how long it’s meant to last, Jack?’

‘It’s hard to say. Could be a couple hours. Could be days.’

Helpful, was what Davey would have replied any other day. ‘I think we should wait it out. I don’t trust myself driving us three and this equipment in heavy snow, anyway. I’ve got the station’s credit card. Let’s get brunch.’

//

Diner. Fogged up windows. Steaming mugs of coffee. And a giant stack of pancakes with extra bacon, syrup, and several scoops of ice cream for Davey. Jack watched him tuck in, eyes wide.

‘Never woulda had you down as the type, Davey. You struck me as a black coffee, brown toast kinda producer.’

‘Treat yo self, right?’ Davey took a gulp of his third cup of coffee (this behaviour was  not Groundhog Day induced, this part was just Davey.) ‘Like, sucks that we’re stranded here, but bright side: amazing pancakes.’ Jack stared, expression a mixture of nervous appraisal and admiration. 

It struck Davey then that despite his feeling somewhat... closer didn’t feel like exactly the right word, but... closer to Jack after their two nights in the bar, to Jack he was still the same kind of asshole that had been in such a terrible mood the night they had arrived, as far as Jack was concerned, twelve hours previous. He had softened this a little, by admitting his assholeness and apologising, but there was only so much damage control that could be done in a morning. Plus whatever he did would be swept away by this weird fucking phenomenon. It felt nice to try, though. And if he thought about it long enough and wanted to feel a little humble, he might just say that Punx was the best place to recharge his batteries, get away from some of the pressures of Philly, and as such prove both to himself and others that he wasn’t actually a jerk.

But he wasn’t quite there yet.

‘You’re right.’ Jack sat back in his seat, leaning one arm across the back of the booth and wrapping his other hand round his coffee mug. ‘I’m glad you’re starting to warm to Punx. I gotta say I was a little antsy. The way you’ve been talking about this trip I expected this place to be, like, a big field with no hot water and a population of twelve.’

‘You mean you weren’t looking forward to it? Jack Kelly, eternal optimist?’ The sugar in his breakfast was starting to make him jittery, and that awareness that the day was bound to be erased gave him a little confidence in steering the conversation somewhere new.

‘It’s not that I wasn’t looking forward to it! Well. Okay. I wasn’t... But I’m the face on the screen, right? Had to pretend I was.’

‘So it’s an act?’ Wow, Davey. How to talk to your coworkers 101: resist psychoanalysis. But, he tried to remind himself, this conversation would be erased. It would disappear. Probably.

‘What’s an act?’

‘The whole... Chipper, happy weatherman thing?’

‘I mean - I really am a weatherman. That part’s not an act.’

‘Right.’

‘But - I don’t know! Like, if I’m not looking forward to something, does that give me the right to just walk around with a long face all the time?’

‘Is that what I do, then?’

‘No! Come on.’

Davey sat back in his chair. This was starting to feel like a segue into a conversation he had always wanted to have with someone, but had never been able to. A perfectly sensible question, one that everyone wondered but just seemed a little much to ask. He bit his lip. Go hard or go home. ‘What do you... think of me?’

Jack raised his eyebrows at the question and a jolt of anxiety burned in Davey’s stomach. This is going to get erased. And if not... you can always move. 

‘What do I think of you?’

‘First impression. Most recent impression. Whatever. Be brutally honest.’

‘Brutally? Davey, I don’t know you. Not really.’

‘You must have some... thoughts.’ This was terrifying. Eschewing social norms was exhilarating in a way but mostly just fucking terrifying. 

‘Can I ask why?’

‘No. Maybe later.’

‘Alright. Can I have amnesty for this? You won’t get offended?’

‘If I do, I’ll pretend I’m not.’

‘Right. So - alright.’ Jack leaned forward on the table and studied Davey. ‘You are very good at your job. I can tell. And I’ve seen pictures of you at the Christmas party, so I know that the person who it sometimes seems like you are isn’t necessarily... Okay. I get the... impression... that you think you’re too good for the role that you’re in.’ Davey started to regret asking but couldn’t push away his desperation for the answer. Jack continued. ‘And maybe you are too good! You probably are - but what have you done to show people that you can be a kick ass producer, other than complaining about it and expecting people to agree with you?’ He paused and sat back, picking at the label on his water bottle. ‘Not that that’s - this is only stuff I’ve thought about the past day or so. Like I say. I don’t really know you.’

The whole thing felt like a sucker punch - one he knew in the back of his mind he would be happy to have heard, but - god. 

‘Oh boy.’

‘I’m sorry, Davey. You did ask...’

‘I know. Haha.’ He let out a long, shaky breath. ‘So how do-’ This would disappear. He could get away with baring his soul to Jack a little, putting his pride aside. ‘How do you do it? What makes Jack Kelly... Jack Kelly?’

‘Never really thought about it.’

‘I just - like. I get anxious.’ He sighed. ‘I’m anxious now. There’s a little stopper in my head keeping me from saying everything I want because I’m that nervous about the outcome.’

‘Then don’t be!’

‘Ah, right. Problem solved.’

‘Okay, that was dumb. But what are you actually afraid of?’

‘I guess... Getting laughed at. Or fired. Or just going off the other way, like, what if I let myself relax and do something really dumb and don’t realise, and everyone is laughing at me and I’m just that dense that I think everything’s fine?’

‘You have to not care what everyone thinks! You have to, like, reconfigure your head so you can devalue other peoples’ opinions - not to nothing, obviously, but to less. Right? Like, I’m on TV. I’m not famous but I’m there, any every morning after my forecast I get a dozen tweets from - yeah, ok, some old ladies who like seeing me, but there’s always a few people trying to be assholes.’

‘But those people don’t have power over your career. Why shouldn’t I care what the people at the network think when they’re the ones who could make or break me?’

‘You should care what they think, granted, but don’t be scared of them. And listen - those people do have power over my career. No one’s trying to put a weatherman the people don’t respond to on TV. So that means that everything I do is kind of a means to try and get people to like me. That’s... how I’ve formed my personality. I mean, I’ve never really looked at it that way, but I guess it’s true.’

There was a long moment of silence as they both processed what had been said. As awkward and convoluted this conversation had felt for Davey, it kind of felt like invaluable knowledge. He was glad to have it.

‘So, fair’s fair.’ 

‘Huh?’ He blinked and stared at Jack.

‘My turn. What do you think of me? Since we’re playing this game.’

‘Oh.’ Another struggle against his internal resistance to being anything but placid. He could see why Jack didn’t like answering the question. It was hard. But Davey had appreciated the honesty, so maybe... ‘It took me a while to warm to you.’ 

‘How come?’

‘I started to think that maybe we weren’t compatible, like, in a professional sense.’

‘No?’

‘Because you’re so good at people, and I’m not.’

‘You’re fine at people.’

‘I know I’m being weird right now and I’m nervous that you’re judging me, but at the same time...’

‘Doesn’t mean we aren’t professionally compatible thought, right? The media needs introverts and extroverts - introverts to think and extroverts to talk.;

‘You’re right. You are right.’

‘Back to me. Didn’t like me at first?’

‘I thought you were cocky and - fake sounds harsh, but... Affected, maybe. A performance. The smiles, the happiness.’

‘To be fair, Davey, you only really see me on the news.’

‘Yes! So then Punx, which I was dreading, but you - I think I’ve started to realise that it is your personality. It’s not fake. It’s nice to, you know, bring the sunshine, as it were.’

‘Someone has to.’ Jack glanced down at the table then back up at Davey. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Sure.’

‘Do you think everyone at the station thinks I’m fake?’

‘What?’

‘If you thought that...’

‘No! Jack, I’m sorry - I didn’t mean... I don’t know why I said it.’

‘Cuz I asked.’

Davey’s stomach twisted and he felt like a dick for instigating this. It had been interesting to know what Jack thought but did that mean he had to air his own prejudices about the poor guy? He almost looked a little cut up.

‘Jack - everyone at the station genuinely adores you. You have to know that.’

‘Yeah, but if I’m fake, maybe everyone else is fake, right?’ He stood up, pushing his plate away. ‘Excuse me, Davey. I need to go take a walk.’

Ah. 

He watched Jack leave, a contemplative look of disappointment on his face Davey had never  seen before. What the hell had driven him to that kind of unwelcome honesty? He’d never expected Jack to actually take it to heart. 

It was fine. It was okay. The day was going to repeat. It had to. He could try again. 

He left too, heading back to the hotel despite it being barely eleven. If he could just sleep, work, watch Netflix, anything until the next day, it would be fine. He didn’t want to risk fucking anything else up.

The walk back was only a couple of minutes, but a little eventful by Punx standards. As he stepped out the diner a tiny dachshund sprinted comically down the street, and a little ways away about a minute later a delivery man stumbled down the steps of his truck, spilling the stack of boxes he was holding and sending the contents, dozens of cupcakes, flying down the road. Davey felt the tiniest jolt of guilt as he walked past but figured the damage had been done, and the bakery employees the cakes were destined for could probably help. 

And of course, if he helped, it would probably only happen again tomorrow.

Just outside the hotel he had to duck round a woman standing at the gate talking to Mrs. Bloom - or weeping, it turned out, clutching an A4 printout that declared “MISSING PUPPY.” He recognised it as the pup that had just flown past him and forced himself to stop and mention this to the woman. 

A ladder leaned precariously against the hotel, where a cleaner finished up one of the first floor windows, stretching out to get the last corner. Just as Davey got inside the door, the ladder slipped into the soft soil under the man’s weight and toppled, sending him flying hard onto the lawn. Mrs. Bloom rushed over to attend, and Davey, at seeing the man sit up and proclaim ‘I’m okay, I’m okay!’ decided it was fine to not intervene. 

This stuff had probably happened the previous versions of this day and would only happen again tomorrow’s version of the day - and Davey had his own shit to figure out.