#this is always ALWAYS the first scene i think of when mr and mrs smith is brought up

[bvckbiter]

OKAY BUT HEAR ME OUT: LUKEZAG BUT MR AND MRS SMITH AU!

Totally didn't get this idea because I am currently watching the movie. Definitely not.

But seriously, imagine!

zag: come to daddy

luke, walloping him over the head w a metal tray: whos your daddy now

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Ooh! A wonderful interview with Rich Keeble who played Mr. Arnold (the one with the Doctor Who Annual :)) in S2! :)❤

Q: In Good Omens 2 you play Mr. Arnold, who runs the music shop on Whickber Street. Were you a fan of Good Omens before joining the cast, and is it challenging to take on such an iconic story which is already loved by a huge fanbase?

A: “There’s always pressure if you’re working on something with an existing fanbase and people might have an idea already as to how you should be approaching something. To be honest I was aware of the show but I hadn’t actually seen it before I was asked to get involved. I knew it was something special though! I remember talking to Tim Downie [Mr. Brown] about how when you tape for certain things you know if something’s a “good one”. Of course by the time I was on set I’d watched Season 1 and read the book. 

I had an interesting route into the show actually: I was asked at the last minute to read the stage directions at the tableread on Zoom, and Douglas [Mackinnon] the director called me up to discuss pronunciations of the character names etc. To prepare further I quickly watched the first episode on Prime Video, and I was very quickly drawn into it. A couple of hours later I was on a Zoom call with David [Tennant], Michael [Sheen] (with his bleached hair), Neil [Gaiman], Douglas and the whole team, including Suzanne [Smith] and Glenda [Mariani] in casting. After that readthrough I asked my agent to try and see if she could shoehorn me in and she came back with a tape for Mr. Arnold saying “you play the piano don’t you…?” They wanted me to demonstrate my musical playing ability, so I rented a rehearsal studio room in Brixton for an hour and filmed myself playing piano (and drums just in case), then I did my scenes a couple of different ways and I guess it wasn’t too terrible!”

Q: During episode five you mimed to music written by series composer David Arnold alongside a real string quartet – this must have been very immersive! How did it feel to work with David, and bring the ball to life?

A: “I actually didn’t meet David Arnold sadly, but I did work with Catherine Grimes, the music supervisor who is lovely. David was at the London screening but I missed an opportunity to go and say hello to him which I kicked myself about. 

I remember before I was in Scotland there was a bit of uncertainty as to whether I would need to play anything for real or not, so I practised every day playing loads of Bach and other music I thought was era-appropriate just in case they asked me to do anything on the fly. So yes, it was very immersive as you say! They sent me three pieces of music to learn which I practised in my Edinburgh apartment on a portable folding keyboard thing I bought. They introduced me to the string quartet (John, Sarah, Alison and Stephanie) and I tried to hang out with them when I could. On the day we all had earpieces to mime to. I had to mime while listening out for a cue from Nina [Sosanya] from across the room, then deliver my dialogue and carry on playing, which was tricky! The quartet and I helped each other out actually: Douglas would say something like “let’s go from a minute into the second piece of music”, I’d look at the sheet music and whisper “where the hell is that?” and one of the quartet would say “we think that’s bar 90” or something. Here’s a little bit of trivia: the shooting overran and the string quartet couldn’t make the last day, so they found some incredible lookalikes to replace them for the scene when we get lead out of the bookshop through all the demons, although I think they also kept them deliberately off camera.” 

Q: What did you think of your music shop when you first saw the set? Did you have a favourite poster or prop?

A: “I thought it was incredible! It could’ve been an actual music shop with all the instruments hanging up with the “Arnold’s” price tags on. The attention to detail was incredible, well IS incredible as I understand it’s all still there. It’s hard to pick a favourite to be honest. I did a little video walkaround on my phone at the time so maybe I’ll post that if I won’t get in trouble. Interestingly the shop interior itself was elsewhere on the set to the shop entrance you see from the street. You walk out of Aziraphale’s shop, over the road, through the door of the music shop and… there’s nothing.” 

Q: Mr. Arnold is tempted into the ball by a Doctor Who Annual and is playing the theme in the music shop scene – are you a fan of Doctor Who in real life? And what was it like making those jokes and references in front of the Tenth Doctor David Tennant?

A: “I’ve always dipped in and out of Doctor Who over the years since Sylvestor McCoy, who was doing it when I first became aware of it when I was growing up. Even if you’re not a fan it’s one of those shows you can’t really get away from, so doing that particular scene in front of David was really fun, and of course Douglas had directed Doctor Who as well. Apart from the amusing situation of two supposed Doctor Who fans talking about Doctor Who without realising they’re in the company of a Doctor Who, I also seem to remember Michael being the one to suggest that he would deliver his “due to problems at the BBC” line directly to David.

Oh, and I think it was actually my idea to grab the annual off the harpsichord before joining the queue behind Crowley at the end of the ballroom scene (which we’d shot weeks earlier at this point). When we were blocking it out and rehearsing I knew I had to leave my position and get to the front for my “surrender the angle” line, and then later it just felt like I wouldn’t leave without the annual so I ran back through everyone to grab it. Nobody seemed to have a problem with me doing that so I just carried on doing it when we shot it! I do remember it being a fun set with Douglas and the team being very open to suggestions.”

Q: How did you balance filming both Good Omens and BBC Ghosts at the same time?

A: “Luckily both shows were a joy to work on, and everyone seems to know about both of them. We were shooting them in early 2022 and I also had a little part in an ITV drama called ‘Stonehouse’, starring Matthew Macfadyen. I usually never know when I’m working next so to have three great TV jobs at once was very unusual. There was all this date juggling and I actually almost had to turn down Ghosts due to clashes. Luckily both shows had to move some dates so it worked out. But yes, I spent two weeks up in Scotland shooting all that Good Omens ballroom stuff, then I came back down to London to do Ghosts, knowing I’d be back up to shoot my scenes in the music shop in a couple of weeks. Now, when I found out who was playing my wife in Ghosts I couldn’t believe it: Caroline Sheen – Michael Sheen’s cousin! She was amazing and that was another great set in general. I say “set”, but it’s all filmed in that house which surprised me. I’d worked with Kiell [Smith-Bynoe] and Jim [Howick] before, and Charlotte [Ritchie] was in the Good Omens radio play a few years ago and a big fan of the book. Charlotte’s very musical of course and we got talking about my folding keyboard I had for practising my Good Omens stuff, and she ended up setting it up in the house for us to have a play on!

Now, when we’d shot all our internal scenes there was this big storm forecast, and our external scenes were scheduled for the day of the storm, so that had to be moved into the next week. It meant I ended up shooting those scenes outside the house, then going straight back up to Scotland to shoot the Good Omens music shop scene the next day! When I mentioned to Michael I’d just worked with Caroline he said “ooh she’s in Ghosts is she!” and revealed that she’d texted him about me which was rather surreal. Then later after the Ghosts wrap party Kiell gave me a part in his Channel 4 Blap, so at the time I felt like I was killing it career wise, but the industry quietened a bit after that and my workload eased off over the year so I was in my overdraft by November.”

Q: What are your plans for the future – can we expect to see you in something else soon?

A: “This year, after a bit of a quiet start, I was very fortunate to work on a Disney+ show called Rivals which stars… David Tennant! I think I’m allowed to say my character is called Brian, and I shot five episodes so that was another really amazing job, and great to work with David again (I told him he must be my good luck charm, although I hope he’s not sick of me). That should be out at some point in late 2024. Other than that I’ve filmed a few other bits I presume will be out next year, one of which is called Truelove on Channel 4 which actually looks really good. That starts early January. Of course now Season 3 of Good Omens has been greenlit, I would love Neil and the gang to have me back on that… but I can only keep my fingers crossed!”

[mj-ackerman]

Translation of Tatsuya Endo's Interview with Katsumaru: (You can read the original here X)

Katsumaru: My wife and child are both big fans of "Spy x Family", so they were both excited for me to be able to meet you today. Why did you choose the theme "Spy" in the first place?

Endo: I didn't have any particular desire to draw a spy story or something like that, but I had always liked military kinds of things and was interested in war related things, so when I combined those aspects with the theme of "lies", it naturally ended up as a spy story. However, I haven't seen many spy movies, and for movies like "007", I've only seen one or two of them.

Katsumaru: What? Really? The information about spies that appears in the story, even for someone like me who's been an avid follower of the genre, gives an impression that it's very well thought out. How on earth did you acquire such knowledge?

Endo: Most of it is from books. And then some of it is from documentary films and the likes. There was an old movie called "Shiri" (This is a 1999 Korean film), it's about the battle between North Korean Special Operation Forces and South Korean Intelligence Agency. I liked that very much.

Katsumaru: The setting, in which the husband, Loid, is a spy and the wife, Yor, is an assassin, reminded me of the movie "Mr & Mrs Smith"

Endo: When the series was just starting, I see that title being mentioned a lot in the comments, but to be honest I've never seen it before....(Laughs). I didn't have much time to prepare for the serialization, and since it's a comedy, I thought I didn't have to be that particular about the settings as I drew it. I incorporated the knowledge I had gained from books, but since it's still a manga, I kept the "No way, that's impossible" aspects to it.

Katsumaru: I think it has a really good balance between realistic depiction and entertainment. Spies are part of everyday life, and some of them even established a "fake family" as in "SPY X FAMILY". In reality, there are cases where married couples had been living together without realizing that their husbands are spies.

Endo: That balance is what I pay the most attention to. I guess you can say it's a process of determining the "minimum level of reality" in each scene.

Katsumaru: How concerned are you about the difference between "reality and manga", Endo-sensei?

Endo: This one is difficult. It's a case by case basis, but in manga, there are many parts where I can just go "let's fake the reality at this part for the time being". When you're working alone, you don't have time to do research about this or that fact. However, in anime, you have to create much more detailed settings, so there isn't much room to put on tricks. When the anime team would ask me "What would happen in this part?" I would often reply with "I'm sorry but I haven't thought about it yet...." (Laughs).

Katsumaru: Have you not strictly defined the scene or time period the story is set in yet?

Endo: I had the image of the period setting somewhere between the 1960s and 1970s. I'm trying to explore what I can do with the technologies in this era thinking "This technology might be possible". I also have softened the reality of things, such as the political form. The cold war between the East and West is also part of the motif, but if you just tell the readers that "it's a conflict of ideologies" , it won't make sense to them. So, I put it into a form that is easy to understand as a manga, there are also some parts that I, myself don't know about after all. Similarly, in the real world, for example, spies probably have very few horizontal connections, right? Like for security reasons. However, as a manga, in order to develop the story, it was necessary for me to depict conversations between spies. All the more that this is a comedy story, so it wouldn't work without conversation. It's difficult to find the right flavor between the two.

Katsumaru: It's pretty unique that you came up with the name "Dalc" which is similar to the name of the currency "Mark" (It's Deutsche Mark which is no longer in use since 2002) used in Germany.

Endo: It's actually a combination of "Mark" and "Dollar". I often use names of places and buildings that actually exist in real life. However, I have a pretty bad memory, so I often ask myself later "Where did I get the name of this place again?" (Laughs)

Katsumaru: Is there any expert historical research or supervision of intelligence agencies involved in this?

Endo: I basically think about all the detailed settings all by myself.

Katsumaru: Since the real-life aspects are well-constructed, I thought an expert in international politics was involved in supervising this.

Endo: There are also some readers who read too deep into the historical situation, but I didn't actually put much thought into the details in writing the story. This is just a fictional country called "Westalis and Ostania" after all.

Katsumaru: In "Spy x Family", there are some Russian-speaking names such as "Anya" and "Yuri" that appears, but spies in that country uses more analog method. For example, "flash contact", in which documents are handed over to another person as they pass each other, or a "drop dead", in which documents are hidden in an agreed-upon location and later picked up by a colleague. There is also a method for communication. Although this method is considered extremely inefficient, it is sometimes considered to be highly secure because it prevents interception of communications.

Endo: So there's still that kind of analogs even now huh? Now that technology has developed and everything is digitalized, I certainly think it's much safer now. In other countries, there are organization such as M16 (United Kingdom Secret Intelligence Service) and CIA (US Central Intelligence Agency), Japan also has organizations with such characteristics.

Katsumaru: The "Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department Public Security Bureau (Public Safety)", where I worked, is the counterintelligence arm of Japan. In "VIVANT" (It's a 2023 Japanese Drama), which I supervised, Hiroshi Abe and Ryo Ryusei are playing roles with these type of characters. We have obtained as collaborators people who have a lot of information and people who are in position to meet various people such as reporter.

The only problem was that we didn't have enough people. The CIA has a large number of subordinates under it's station chief, and a large budget. When I was temporary transfered to a Japanese embassy overseas, I was alone, my budget was limited, and I was also reponsible for issuing passports, so there is no doubt that working at an intelligence agency overseas with better environment had allowed me to concentrate more on my mission.

Endo: Do you hire locals overseas?

Katsumaru: There are times when we ask locals to work with us by paying them a reward. Or, we can ask them to connect us with people who has information. The Public Safety is very good at finding and training people who can bring good quality information and can do good work.

[denimbex1986]

'...Mr. Arnold is tempted into the ball by a Doctor Who Annual and is playing the theme in the music shop scene – are you a fan of Doctor Who in real life? And what was it like making those jokes and references in front of the Tenth Doctor David Tennant?

“I’ve always dipped in and out of Doctor Who over the years since Sylvestor McCoy, who was doing it when I first became aware of it when I was growing up. Even if you’re not a fan it’s one of those shows you can’t really get away from, so doing that particular scene in front of David was really fun, and of course Douglas had directed Doctor Who as well. Apart from the amusing situation of two supposed Doctor Who fans talking about Doctor Who without realising they’re in the company of a Doctor Who, I also seem to remember Michael being the one to suggest that he would deliver his “due to problems at the BBC” line directly to David.

Oh, and I think it was actually my idea to grab the annual off the harpsichord before joining the queue behind Crowley at the end of the ballroom scene (which we’d shot weeks earlier at this point). When we were blocking it out and rehearsing I knew I had to leave my position and get to the front for my “surrender the angle” line, and then later it just felt like I wouldn’t leave without the annual so I ran back through everyone to grab it. Nobody seemed to have a problem with me doing that so I just carried on doing it when we shot it! I do remember it being a fun set with Douglas and the team being very open to suggestions.”

How did you balance filming both Good Omens and BBC Ghosts at the same time?

“Luckily both shows were a joy to work on, and everyone seems to know about both of them. We were shooting them in early 2022 and I also had a little part in an ITV drama called ‘Stonehouse’, starring Matthew Macfadyen. I usually never know when I’m working next so to have three great TV jobs at once was very unusual. There was all this date juggling and I actually almost had to turn down Ghosts due to clashes. Luckily both shows had to move some dates so it worked out. But yes, I spent two weeks up in Scotland shooting all that Good Omens ballroom stuff, then I came back down to London to do Ghosts, knowing I’d be back up to shoot my scenes in the music shop in a couple of weeks. Now, when I found out who was playing my wife in Ghosts I couldn’t believe it: Caroline Sheen – Michael Sheen’s cousin! She was amazing and that was another great set in general. I say “set”, but it’s all filmed in that house which surprised me. I’d worked with Kiell [Smith-Bynoe] and Jim [Howick] before, and Charlotte [Ritchie] was in the Good Omens radio play a few years ago and a big fan of the book. Charlotte’s very musical of course and we got talking about my folding keyboard I had for practising my Good Omens stuff, and she ended up setting it up in the house for us to have a play on!

Now, when we’d shot all our internal scenes there was this big storm forecast, and our external scenes were scheduled for the day of the storm, so that had to be moved into the next week. It meant I ended up shooting those scenes outside the house, then going straight back up to Scotland to shoot the Good Omens music shop scene the next day! When I mentioned to Michael I’d just worked with Caroline he said “ooh she’s in Ghosts is she!” and revealed that she’d texted him about me which was rather surreal. Then later after the Ghosts wrap party Kiell gave me a part in his Channel 4 Blap, so at the time I felt like I was killing it career wise, but the industry quietened a bit after that and my workload eased off over the year so I was in my overdraft by November.”

What are your plans for the future – can we expect to see you in something else soon?

“This year, after a bit of a quiet start, I was very fortunate to work on a Disney+ show called Rivals which stars… David Tennant! I think I’m allowed to say my character is called Brian, and I shot five episodes so that was another really amazing job, and great to work with David again (I told him he must be my good luck charm, although I hope he’s not sick of me). That should be out at some point in late 2024. Other than that I’ve filmed a few other bits I presume will be out next year, one of which is called Truelove on Channel 4 which actually looks really good. That starts early January. Of course now Season 3 of Good Omens has been greenlit, I would love Neil and the gang to have me back on that… but I can only keep my fingers crossed!”

[heart4reigns]

UNTOUCHABLE, jey uso.

next chapter

warnings: curse words, cigarettes, alcohol, substances, parties, flirting, platonic relationship, implied sexual activities

tags: it’s an all girls-all boys campus party bash! college!au, and all those campus things… (y/n) isn't like other girls she's emo leave her alone, 10 things i hate about you situation

summary: you were totally untouchable to him

BEING in an all-girls campus was probably the worst decision your parents had ever made for you. you were in another state, far away from your comfort zone. it was your third year, one more year to go before you could escape this hellhole. “HELL YEAH, 86 BABY!” your thoughts were cut-off by your best friend’s voice. “that's what you get for studying non-stop." you smiled. "fuck, i'm finally free from mr. smith's wrath... my saturdays are gonna be wild again!"

the campus ground was divided by several groups. to your luck, you were put in the girls building with all of your sorority girl friends. on the other side of your ground was the boys building. the barrier didn't stop them from throwing huge parties, inviting everyone the could see or talk to. your roommate, becky, was one of the most popular girl you could ever think of. contrary to the 'it girl' image she had, she was a sweetheart. her boyfriend, on the other hand–was a lot. the lovebirds were your closest friends, you'd take a bullet for them.

people couldn't believe that you were in damage ctrl, the college's top sorority. truth be told, you were dragged by becky since her mother’s sister was the one who founded the club. you took a role in academics, helping everyone with their grades–you were quite the tutor for everyone. even the members of the fraternity respected you and occasionally asked for your help.

outside of your studies, you didn't have the presence that becky and seth had. sure, people turned their heads when they see you, but no one ever had the guts to talk to you. except for this mullet emo dude chewing his pasta in front of you. "you should start selling these, (y/n)." dominik praised your cooking skills. "can you please shut up, i'm trying to study." you groaned in despair. "we're literally hanging out and you still choose your books over me?" dominik was your first friend, a year older than you. he was in the same year as seth, finishing up his thesis. "i am looking up qualitative theories for your thesis, do you want me to help you or not?" "right, comrade. i'll just shut up."

"are you coming tonight?" it was a rhetorical question. of course you weren't coming to seth's party. "no, i am not." becky came to the park after her classes, she was sitting on the grass with you and dominik. "see, told you she wasn't coming." dom rolled his eyes. "she never comes to the bloodline frat parties." he continued. "that's because i stopped partying when i was 18." you used to be a party animal back in your younger days, you grew tired of the scene. "boo, i wish we were friends in high school." "dominik, i went to an all-girls private school."

"i mean, jey's definitely gonna be there." becky winked at you. "becks, that was like 2 years ago." you rolled your eyes. "shit, right. i remember you having a crush on him. that was so funny, he's like... totally not your type." you threw your book at dominik, earning a groan. "ow, that hurts! i'm telling the truth right here." you had flashbacks during your first year where you fawned over a certain senior who had arms covered with tattoos, always wearing a chain necklace, and a stupid fucking smile that made your heart beat faster than usual.

the three of you continued the conversation, when all the sudden you heard a menacing laugh coming from behind you. you immediately knew who it was. "SETH, IF YOU PULL MY HAIR ONCE AGAIN, I WILL ACTUALLY SMACK YOU!" right before he could lay his hands on your hair, he backed off. "awwww, that sucks!" he went over to sit next to his girlfriend, giving her a kiss. "hey babe, we were just talking about your party." becky said. "(y/n) is coming?" you shook your head. "as usual. what are your plans for tonight then?" he asked. "i'm going to town to pick up some books professor heyman asked me to get."

seth was the top frat boy of the bloodline. everyone knew the bloodline threw wild parties and tonight? it was one of the biggest since they were all going to graduate soon. "well, if you change your mind the password for tonight is 'don't tell my mom i fucked cody rhodes last night'." he winked. "was originally gonna be '(y/n) (l/n) helped me with my thesis' but we don't want you to kill us." dominik chuckled. "fuck off." you groaned. "we know you love us, (y/n)."

you were getting ready for your short trip to town. you looked at the mirror and fixed your outfit; dom's black jacket (that you took when he wasn't looking), a black tanktop, your favorite corduroy flare pants, and a pair of boots that becky and seth gave you for your birthday present this year. "you look too good to go to a fucking library." becky shouted from her room. "who knows i might meet a hot professor there?" she cringed at your sentence. "be careful okay? oh, no one's gonna be home because we're all going to the party." you nodded. "don't forget to leave the keys inside the flowerpot."

and like usual, becky forgot to put the fucking keys inside the flowerpot. you cursed under your breath, trying your best to call the entire sorority, only to receive nothing but voicemails. you had no other choice than to go there. "here goes nothing." you muttered. the walk to the frat house was thrilling. you had to hide behind a bush, a trashcan, and a tree because of the night-guards.

“password?” the frat boy asked. “don’t tell my mom i fucked cody rhodes last night.” you replied, remembering the password seth gave you earlier. the frat boy opened the door and you knew that you were going to have a very bad time. you scanned the crowd, looking for your orange-haired friend as she was nowhere to be seen. you spotted similar faces, trying your best to avoid them.

people were confused when they saw you stepping inside the house. it was a very rare occurrence for you to be spotted in a function. “oh shit dude, that’s (y/n).” you heard whispers when you passed by. “fuck, where the hell are you becky?” you were still trying to call her to no avail. you did not care about the people staring at you, you really needed the keys. the music was loud, it smelled like weed, and everyone was just having the time of their lives. everyone except for you.

you were squinting your eyes, looking for your friend, until a certain mullet-boy pulled the back of your jacket. “familiar jacket you got there, what are you doing here pretty girl?” you were relieved to see one of your closest friends in this fiasco. “thank god you're here, i’m looking for becky!” you shouted. “why are you looking for her?” he furrowed his brows. “she has the dorm keys!” you replied. “everyone’s here and i can’t fucking go back!” you continued.

“just stay in my room, here are my keys!” he pulled out his carabiner full of keys. you shook your head. “your room smells like weed and piss and the last time i slept there were roaches.” you joked. “hey, i have the cleanest room in the boys dorm.” he defended himself. "can you please help me look for becky? please?" his grin turned menacing. "okay," dominik paused for a second. "if you enjoy your time here."

hence the cup in your hands, you were still looking for your best friend. dominik dragged you around, his hands intertwined with yours. everyone thought you were dating him, but it was totally a long-running joke between you, seth, becky, and him. "dom! you brought your girlfriend out of her shell?" you rolled your eyes when you saw the blond man. "shut up cody, i helped you pass your lit classes last month." you barked at him. "you're right, sorry. it's just weird seeing you here." he spoke louder. "i'm looking for becky, have you seen her?" cody shook his head. "i saw her when the party started, i think she's with either seth or kota!"

dominik patted your back, "poor you, it's okay we can find her." you were stressed out. you took a sip of the alcoholic drink in your cup, feeling the alcohol down your throat. "that's my girl!" dominik smiled, mimicking your actions. "fuck." you sighed. "yo, dom! come here!" one of his friends called him. "i'll help you find becky, stay right here." before you could say anything, he left you alone on the couch.

you felt someone sitting down next to you and you turned your attention to them. you made eye-contact with him, it was the frat leader, the final boss of every single fraternity of this town, jey uso. your heart skipped a beat. "and who are you?" his voice was loud and clear, despite the music blaring loudly. you furrowed your brows. of course he doesn't know me, you thought. you met him once during orientation, which was probably like 3 years ago. other than that, you didn't have any interactions with the leader.

"i'm (y/n)." you replied shortly, not paying attention to him. "shit, you're the one who helped seth with his thesis? the outcast damage ctrl girl?" you took offense in what he said, so you chose to ignore it. you were focusing on your phone, still trying your best to text the groupchat. "hey, you didn't hear what i said?" you looked up from your phone, facing jey again. "what?" you barked. he had this amused expression after he heard your tone. jey smirked as he knew that you weren't fawning over him.

everyone wanted him. everyone, but you.

to be honest, you couldn't really careless about the boys in your college. ever since you had a little crush on jey (which was a long time ago), you never took interest to any of them. if they approached you, you knew you could just say you were dating dominik. he was your wingman. "i said, who did you come here with?" jey repeated his question. "dominik." you were still focusing on your phone. "you're his girlfriend then?" you only nodded in response. "you know," jey paused for a second. "you can't really lie to me. your 'boyfriend' is literally flirting with rhea right now." you squinted your eyes, seeing dominik flirting with one of your friends. "shit." you muttered.

"i never see you in our parties, what brings you here, pretty girl?" it was clear that he was flirting with you. "i'm looking for becky." you admitted, hoping that he would have an idea about her whereabouts. "lynch? she's upstairs!" your eyes widened in surprise. "oh, thanks." you stood up from your seat, only to have him follow you. "i don't need you to help me, jey." you glared at him. "baby, this is a frat party. everyone's either drunk or horny, of course i'm gonna be a gentleman." he winked at you.

turns out, becky wasn't upstairs. you couldn't find her. you spotted your friends and asked if any of them had the dorm keys, but to your luck, becky had all of the keys, being the head-girl. "fucking hell." you muttered once again, still having jey following you. "you look like you need a drink." he passed you a red cup. you decided to let your guard down for a bit. might as well just get shit-faced while looking for becky, you thought. "don't try to get me drunk, uso." you glared at him once again. "i'm not! just offering you a drink." you took a shot of the alcoholic drink.

jey didn't know why he kept following you. earlier, he had girls swarming around him, wanting his attention–but as soon as he spotted you, all his attention diverted to you. he actually knew who you were. (y/n) (l/n), contradicting to all the assholes frat boys, he admired you. you were a year younger than him, but you were smarter than everyone in this frat house combined. “hi jey, you busy now?” one of the girls greeted him with a wink. “yeah, with (y/n) now.” he replied, nudging you. you side-eyed him, not knowing what to do.

“fuck was that?” “it’s tiring being most wanted.” jey replied with smirk. the people around you were unfamiliar, you saw a couple of your girls leaving with their boyfriends. you sighed as you took another sip of your drink. “you know what, i’m just gonna stay at the library.” jey immediately shook his head. “and do what? helping mr. heyman with his chores? fuck that, come on. have fun, it’s seth’s last party here.” he was right. seth was graduating soon and you didn’t even attend his parties till now. “i guess you’re right.” you replied, earning a grin from him.

the alcohol got a bit in your head. “i should stop drinking now.” jey noticed that your face was slightly red, he didn’t want you to go full drunk and have nowhere to stay, so he took your cup. “right, enough break time, you still wanna look for becky or do you want me to get dom?” you shook your head, feeling a bit fuzzy. “no, no! don’t get dom. he might take me to his weed-ridden room.” you pouted in annoyance. “please help me find becks.” jey couldn’t resist your stupid fucking pout. he helped you get off the chair, dragging you around–he felt bad now.

you were never one to go out a lot with your sorority girls, so pity flared inside him. you just wanted to go back. “yoooo, who are you with?” you turned your head around and spotted his twin. jimmy uso, college heartthrob that asked you for help in last year’s chemistry. “oh shit, (y/n)! you’re with my brother now?” jey shook his head. “nah man, trying to find becky or seth for her.” jimmy saw your tipsy state. “dawg, i hope you find them soon. last time i saw them was like 2 hours ago, you know how good they are in hiding.”

the situation became slightly overwhelming for you. you dropped jey’s hand. “jey, bro. it’s okay, enjoy the party. sorry i bothered you. i’ll just stay in the library till becky comes back, thanks for your help though.” there was a slight disappointment in his eyes. “it’s getting kinda crowded here too, you wanna bounce?” he stepped on his cigarette.

so there you were, in his car, driving up north to the nearest city beach to watch the sunrise. at first you declined, wanting to stay behind in the library as it was open 24/7. but it wasn’t safe. it was a public library and you were tipsy. you had no choice but to trust this frat boy who was bopping his head to mf doom. you were closing your eyes, your phone died, and you had no hopes in reaching becky. you just hoped that she was somewhere safe with her silly boyfriend.

“you alright there?” you opened your eyes. “yeah. shit, we’re here?” jey nodded, unbuckling his seatbelt. “come on, the sun is about to rise!” he smiled, opening the door for you. “god, calm down! i’m having a headache.” his hands intertwined with yours as he guided you to the beach. it was empty and you felt really comfortable. the warm breeze of the ocean tingled your skin, making you shiver a bit. “here, take my jacket.” you rolled your eyes and proceeded to chuckle. “that’s kinda cheesy, but i’ll take it. since it’s fucking freezing out here.”

the two of you sat in silence, the sounds waves filling up your eardrums. “you know, i like this beach.” he blurted out. “huh?” “i don't take people here. it's kinda like a secret spot when it gets overwhelming. i know i give off a fuckboy vibe or so, but i like being alone too. despite all the gossips about me, i’m just a law student trying to get my degree.” he chuckled, pouring his heart out. “and why are you telling me this?” you asked, feeling confused.

“don’t know, just feel like i needed to clear things up about myself.” you nodded at his statement. since you were already talking to him, you might as well spill your heart out. “i had a crush on you back in my first year. saw you during orientation and i thought ‘damn, that dude is hot’ but you were still dating… what was her name? felicia? yeah.” you admitted, feeling your cheeks heat up. you didn’t know if you were drunk or not but you just had to say it. “you’re lying.” jey stated. “am not! ask dominik, he knows all the tea.” you added.

“if we’re being honest with each other now,” jey played with the sand using his shoe. “i actually knew who you were. that talk at the party? that was all bullshit. i just wanted to talk to you, but you’re so untouchable.” jey confessed. he saw you as one of the girls he wouldn't mess around with. jey could get any girl he wanted, but you? with all of your achievements and this 'cold' persona? he didn't want to mess with you. the crush he had on you was pure and genuine.

you made eye-contact again with him, this time–he had a smile plastered on his face. “of course i knew who you were! damn, do you realize you have a lot of people looking up to you?” he questioned. “no, i do not.” “fuck, (y/n). all the boys want you.” the man sighed. “that doesn't matter to me.” the sun was rising up, causing the two of you to break eye-contact.

the scenery was breathtaking. jey uso was nervous, for the first time in his life. “gotta be honest, i had a crush on you too. i think it was your second year? but i thought you were dating dom so i backed off.” “no way, the dominik effect worked on some people.” you joked. the atmosphere became warmer as you felt him move closer to you. “i think my biggest regret was not talking to you in my remaining college years.” jey sighed, knowing that his time with you in the campus ground was limited.

“well, since we know each other now, how bout we start from the beginning? i’m (y/n), med student. a part of damage ctrl, i can probably do any assignments and can help you with all of your classes.” you offered him a hand. “and i’m jey uso, head-boy of the bloodline. i’m failing my classes and i recently developed a crush again on one of the sorority girls who can definitely kick my ass.” the two of you laughed at each other.

you continued talking to him about everything; life, academics, love, friendships, even your weird cousins. "it's getting so fucking cold, we should go back." jey suggested. "but becky..." you muttered. "you can stay in my room, i'll sneak you in from the window. the security won't check my floor. i can stay with jimmy." he sat up, brushing the sand from his pants. "actually, thinking about it. i wouldn't mind a jey uso right next to me in bed."

a/n: first time writing jey how are we feeling heart4reigns nation?? hope u enjoyed it as much as i did!! feedbacks/requests are highly appreciated!!

[roosterbruiser]

𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐳-𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐬 ☿ 𝟓

☿ 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲 "𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫" 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰 𝐱 𝐘𝐨𝐮 (𝐏𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞: 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐀𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐧) ☿ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You film your first scene. Jake wants to celebrate at the disco. ☿ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 7.5k ☿ 𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐳-𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐲 ☿ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐳-𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐬 ☿ 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ☿ 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭--𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝟏𝟖+. 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐮𝐩𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟕𝟎𝐬--𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐞𝐫𝐚.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝟑𝐫𝐝, 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟗 𝐒𝐚𝐧 𝐅𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐲, 𝐂𝐀

Expansions by Lonnie Liston Smith is playing while Rooster fucks you in front of a camera for the first time. 

You’re bracing yourself on a flimsy school desk, panties and plaid skirt at your ankles and white button-down entirely undone and exposing your torso. Rooster’s naked all except for a pair of thick framed glasses and a tie, which is Dennis’ attempt to make Rooster look like a schoolteacher. 

At the very least, the set is clean and small. You’re inside a warehouse of sorts outside of LA, on a proper sound stage. It’s warm--not as warm as it is outside, but warm enough that they keep having to throw your hair back out of your face. You’re not sure if it’s the lights or the amount of people crowding the room or the smoke or the excitement that’s making it so warm--you don’t really have time to think about it.

This sex doesn’t feel very different for you--not entirely. Yes, there is a camera and there is a crew. People are smoking cigarettes and cigars and sipping on bourbon while they watch Rooster fuck you. There are bright lights above you and you’re wearing just about the ugliest school girl uniform you can imagine--which you would never wear. You’ve been going at this for hours now, only stopping to eat tuna salad and rehydrate. But otherwise, the sex feels fucking good. It feels really fucking good.

You’re turned on--you are always kind of turned on--but this time it feels especially gratifying. Hours of cunnilingus and handjobs and fingering and position switches and now you’re finally able to close Rooster inside of you, hold him against you as he fucks you. You were aching for it before he sunk into you. He could tell how bad you really wanted it, that you weren’t acting, that you weren’t like the other girls with the faux fuck-me eyes he usually shot with. And honestly, it made him all the more harder. Even if he knows that he’s going home with you, that you’re going to be living with him, he can’t get enough of you. He’ll seize any opportunity to fuck you. 

“Gonna have to earn that -A, baby,” Rooster says, gripping the bend of your hips as he pounds himself into you. He watches your entire body jolt as you take every thrust, watches your eyelashes flutter and your pigtails quiver. “Think I just give out grades for free, huh?” 

“No, Mr. Bates--oh, fuck--I’m gonna be a good girl and-and earn it,” you moan out, pushing yourself against Rooster’s body. 

“Perfect,” Dennis grunts from his spot beside the camera, shaking his head in wonder as Rooster drives his cock into you over and over again. “Why don’t we spank a few times? Nothing serious,” Dennis says. 

Rooster pauses momentarily, gasping when you clench around him and glance at him over your shoulder. Your sweet face is adorned with minimal makeup, which is supposed to aid in you looking young. And you do look young--because you are young.

“That okay, kid?” 

It’s a courtesy Rooster gives all his scene partners, but he doesn’t call the rest of them kid.

You nod, swallowing hard.

“More than okay,” you answer, biting your lip.  

You’ve never been spanked before, not sexually. But you’re not going to let that show: you’re a professional now. Dennis loves you, has been fawning over you and bragging about you all fucking day, and you’re gonna show him that you’re fucking down. You’re down for anything. You’re Cherry fucking Arsan and you don’t say no

“Told you she’s got a beautiful mouth,” Dennis mutters to the cameraman, cutting a cigar and striking a match. “Tell her she’s being punished, Rooster. She’s been bad.”

This is when Rooster is usually on autopilot. He thrusts, kisses, curls, pumps, pants, licks, spits, pinches, grabs, gropes while thinking about what he’s going to have to drink when he gets home or if the Bills are gonna be in the Superbowl this year. But he can’t go on autopilot with you--which is something he discovered only a few hours ago. He is achingly inside of his own body when he’s with you, feeling every single bit of your flesh and muscle and wetness, filling you up. 

What’s peculiar is that while he’s thoroughly enjoying fucking you, he’s looking forward to when this is all said and done. He’s gonna take you to In-N-Out and buy you a burger, take the long way home through the winding palm tree-lined valley, take a shower with you, invite some friends over, light up some cigars, and just spend the night talking. You’re a conversationalist, someone who seems to know a little bit about everything, someone who is always listening with wide eyes and a bitten lip. 

“Won’t be too rough,” Rooster tells you through grit teeth, squeezing your hip. 

You don’t really mind if he is, though--but you smile all the same, humming. 

“I’ve been so bad, Mr. Bates,” you moan out, throwing your head back. “Are you gonna hit me with your paddle?” 

“I broke my paddle on another student,” Rooster answers and you pretend to gasp. You’re doing very well--better than anyone could’ve expected. “I’ve gotta use my hand on you, girl.”

When his hand first comes down, it’s at the same time he delivers a particularly deep thrust. The shock sends you forward, jolts the desk. The pain is there--a sting, heat pooling in your cheek. But then he smooths his hand over the spot, very subtly so that only you can detect it, and grips your hip again. 

“Oh, that’s so good,” you whimper, which is entirely true and real. You like it. You like being spanked. “Fuck, Mr. Bates. Please, do it again.”

Rooster bites down hard on his lip, glancing at Dennis, who nods rapidly at Rooster and motions for him to do it again. You’re a moaning mess beneath him, your knees just about ready to buckle, when he spanks you again. The slap is loud--its bark worse than its bite--and again, he smooths his hand over the spot and gives you a delicious relief. 

“Fuck,” you whine, panting. You feel like this is getting you close, a heat rising up from your toes and spreading all across your skin. “Fuck.”

Rooster’s throat is tight with arousal. You sound fucking pitiful, like you need release, like you want something that only he can give. He knows that sound, has become acquainted with it.  

So, he reaches down and presses his hand between your legs, letting his pointer and middle finger circle your clit. You jolt again, but then press yourself into him further and arch your back. 

“Just like that,” Dennis encourages, eyes widening at the breath caught in your mouth and the way your hips buck to meet Rooster’s thrusts. “Keep doing her like that, Rooster. Just like that.”

Rooster wants to talk to you the way he does when you’re fucking at home--wants to say your name and tell you that he wants you to cum. He wants to be closer to you, wants to let his body rest over yours. He wishes that you were facing him, that he could take your nipple in his mouth. But this is okay for now--he’s okay with watching your knuckles turn white and listening to those beautiful sounds falling from your parted lips. 

“Shit, you gonna make her cum?” Dennis laughs jovially, shaking his head in wonder. “Tell him how close you are, Cherry.” 

“I’m so close, Mr. Bates,” you pant, chest heaving. You want to reach back and hold him, but something keeps your fingers firmly curled around the desk instead. 

Rooster is still steadily pounding into you, eyes trained on that red handprint on your cheek, fingers circling your clit as you clench around him and cry out desperately. 

“Fuckin Hell,” Dennis mumbles to his assistant. “How good do they look, huh? Fucking perfect.”

When Rooster cums, letting his chest rest against your delicate back as he pulses and spills inside of you, you’re grinning and gasping. He’s holding onto you tightly, his hands sore from coming down on your rear so relentlessly at the direction of Dennis. You’re sore, too--but you don’t mind it. 

Everyone starts to clap for you, Dennis releasing an ear-piercing wolf-whistle that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand to attention.  

“How was I?” you whisper to Rooster, catching his gaze. His glasses are sliding down his nose, his tie loose around his flushed throat. He swallows hard, laughing, then presses a kiss to the middle of your shoulder blades. “Was I outta sight?” 

“You were fab, baby,” Rooster tells you. He pulls away from you just enough to let his cock slide out and then holds your waist as you straighten up. “Really somethin’.” 

When you stand up and look out at all the men in front of you, all the mustaches and sideburns and corduroy and hairy chests and glassy eyes, something tingles in your belly. It’s like moving into a new home, understanding that things are unfamiliar now but will soon become a common fixture in your life. And as they all clap for you, grinning, you know this is something you’re going to see often. 

So, with cum dripping down your legs, you take a bow. 

Rooster’s still holding onto your waist, shaking his head softly as your pigtails swing wildly. He’s seen that grin of yours before--he likes it. It’s toothy and real, very wide and sweet. But something in his chest feels heavy when he realizes that you’re giving it to all of these jackoffs. 

“She’s my new moneymaker!” Dennis calls gleefully, hobbling over to you and holding your naked waist with his beefy hand. “Cherry, you’re a fucking goddess, baby!” 

When Dennis’ hand lands on your rear, where he gives a few lewd squeezes, you don’t pull away from him. You don’t do anything except grin and laugh. But Rooster sees it--sees him groping you. 

“Stellar,” Rooster says softly, nudging himself against you and away from Dennis. Dennis pretends not to notice and you just beam up at Rooster. “Let’s rock and roll, Cherry.” 

You feel like you’re on top of the fucking world. 

Rooster drives home with the top down and lets the warm air kiss your face and throat as you throw your arms in the air and cry out your name: I’m Cherry fucking Arsan! Every single nerve in your body is alight with excitement, with pleasure. Dennis handed you a check for $1700 and it’s tucked in your bra now--you swear even the paper is hot, burning your skin. 

“Oh, I feel fucking amazing right now!” You shout, pushing the straps of your tank-top down so your perfect tan won’t be broken up by thin straps of pale skin. “Oh, God, baby! This is the life you’ve been living since you were eighteen? Goddamn! I missed the fucking memo! I just wanna--ugh, I wanna fucking scream!” 

Rooster, with his shades and another expensive turtleneck intact now, chuckles with a grin adorning his lips. He has a hand on your thigh, where he’s rubbing circles there with his thumb, and Joni Mitchell on the radio. 

“Scream, then!” He tells you. 

You look at him--all that beautiful man in this beautiful car under the beautiful sky. You think about the check in your bra. You think about opening up your own bank account. You think about taking another bump of coke. You think about fucking Rooster whenever you want to. 

And then you fucking scream. Arms up, chest tight, throat open, mouth wide, eyes shut--you scream into the wide open air all around you. Rooster’s in stitches, his ears ringing, as your holler echoes all along the valley.

“Christ, kid!” Rooster laughs, squeezing your thigh. “You’ve got a set of lungs on you!” 

Your entire body feels loose now as you lean over to rest your head on Rooster’s shoulder. You smell like sweat and sex, which is a scent that Rooster is so accustomed to now that he hardly even realizes it.

“Oh, I know,” you giggle, plucking the shades off his face and putting them on to shield you from the sun overhead. “I’m a screamer.”

Rooster smirks. 

“Oh, I know,” he teases. He’s squinting at the sun now, but you look too darling in his oversized glasses to take them back. “Thought we could grab some burgers and have some company tonight. How’s that sound?” 

You know that by company he means the usual crowd--which means Jake, which means another bump if he’s feeling generous. At the very thought of it, saliva pools under your tongue. 

“Sounds groovy to me, baby!” 

Rooster’s happy--he’s really, really happy. You’re snuggled up right beside him, singing along to Joni Mitchell, wearing his sunglasses, blinking at the sun, his scent thick on your skin. You’re happy, too--you’ve got more money in your bra than your daddy’s ever seen all at once, you’ve just been fucked, you’re gonna do a bump with Jake, and the sun is shining. 

It’s a perfect day. It feels like the makings of a perfect life.

Jake is already waiting for you and Rooster in the living room. He let himself in a few hours ago, helped himself to a couple beers, turned on a record, and has been laying out on the couch waiting to hear that front door open. 

And when he hears those familiar sounds, he sits straight up with a grin on his face, searching for you. There you are, just beside Rooster, dressed in a little pink tank top and a pair of clogs. Your hair is wild--Jake can tell Rooster rode home with the top down--and your cheeks are pink with delight. You’re carrying an In-N-Out cup, which you’re still slurping from, and you’re laughing at something Rooster said. 

“Where’s mine?” Jake asks, eyebrows raised. 

Both you and Rooster’s gazes snap in his direction immediately, Rooter taking a subtle step in front of you and puffing out his chest before he realizes oh, it’s just Jake.

“Jake!” You call out, dropping the milkshake on the tile as you skitter towards the couch with your arms wide open. 

You’ve grown very fond of Jake since you’ve met him--he’s clicked into your life just as easily and quickly as Rooster has. And Jake has grown just as fond of you, stopping by Rooster’s pad more often than before.

Something stings Rooster’s cheek watching you skip over to Jake like you are.

But then he bites his lip hard and looks at the tile, shaking his head.  

“Cherry, you spilled your milkshake!” Rooster whines, grabbing the discarded cup. 

Strawberry clops onto the tile that Rooster just had cleaned, but when he looks up and sees you grinning apologetically over your shoulder as your clogs echo throughout the house, he knows he won’t stay mad.  

“Get your pretty little ass over here, girl!” Jake insists, opening his arms for you. 

Jake assists in holding onto your waist and hoisting you over the back of the couch and on top of his body, where you fall into a fit of giggles as you kiss his face and tangle your hands in his hair. He’s warm and soft--he smells like weed and patchouli. 

Rooster crosses the house to throw the shake away, grabbing some paper towels as you and Jake kiss each other hello fervently. 

“Did you miss me or something, baby?” Jake asks. 

He watches the column of your throat as you laugh and sigh happily, your head tipped back. There’s a spot of shake just by the corner of your mouth and before you can answer him, he leans up and licks it off. 

“Strawberry?” He asks, smacking his tongue. 

“Mhm,” you tell him. “Want some more, baby?” 

You offer him the little bit of your hair that dripped in the shake and he sucks it clean while you bite your lip. 

“You two are gnarly,” Rooster sighs, slumping down on the sofa behind you.

He wishes that he was under you--but he knows that he’s being selfish. He gets you all of the time. Hell, he just got you for four hours. He got all of you for four fucking hours. And, somehow, he got paid for it.  

“Perfect for each other,” you tease, squeezing Jake’s pecs. “How’d you get in?”

“Rooster never locks the back door,” Jake says, nudging Rooster. “Not even after all that freaky deaky East Area Rapist shit.”

Rooster rolls his eyes, shaking his head. 

“Do you know how far away Sacramento is, man? A whole fucking plane ride away. And we’re in one of the wealthiest suburbs in Los Angeles,” Rooster retorts. “Of course I never lock the backdoor.”

Jake pretends to mock Rooster and you laugh, sinking your weight onto him. 

“How was it, baby? Gimme the skinny,” Jake says, pushing your hair behind your ears as you situate yourself on his lap, hands on his chest. “Don’t spare any details.”

“It was fucking groovy! Just, like, hours of fucking and then a round of applause and a paycheck at the end of it,” you tell Jake, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. “Look at this.” 

You reach into your bra, grab the check, then wave it in front of Jake’s face with a flush over your chest and throat. Jake feigns impression, letting a low whistle fill the room as he reads the paper. 

“You’re a rich lady!” He grins. 

“Won’t need us to buy your threads anymore,” Rooster sighs, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “Gonna get rid of us?” 

You scoff, letting yourself fall back until your head is on Rooster’s lap with your hips still planted over Jake’s. 

“Nah,” you tell Rooster, tracing the smile that’s biting his lips with a careful finger. “Need you to show me how to open a bank account. And someone to buy me caviar.” 

Rooster bites down softly on your finger and you laugh, kissing his arms and chest. 

“Was it just you two?” Jake asks, drifting his finger from your belly button up your chest. 

You shiver at his touch--you don’t know if you’ll ever get used to being touched so much all the time. You love it. It makes you feel like you’re living in a dream, something wrapped in cotton and confetti.

“Yeah, man,” Rooster answers. “It was her first gig. Dennis wouldn’t throw her to the wolves like that.” 

He’s not telling the truth--Dennis would throw you to the wolves like that and very easily, too. Dennis tossed around the idea of today’s shoot featuring Rooster and three other men--all of which would run a train on you. But Rooster carefully coaxed Dennis away from the idea over coffee a few days ago, convincing Dennis that just you and Rooster would sell just as much as a gang-bang. 

He doesn’t want to scare you, though--not when you’re already diving head first into this industry and his life. He’s guilty, almost, knowing that he isn’t telling the full truth. But he figures that as long as he’s around, you’ll be okay. You’ll be good. He’s too fond of you to let anything bad happen. And, anyway, wasn’t he the one that sat behind you and let you sign that contract? 

Jake knows Rooster is bullshitting, at least a little bit. But it isn’t his prerogative to shed light on his friend’s discrepancy. 

“Well, we’ve gotta celebrate somehow,” Jake tells you, squeezing your hips.

“I already had my first In-N-Out burger,” you grin, patting your belly. “What else could I possibly want?” 

Rooster pinches your cheek and you grin up at him. You’re teasing him--he loves that you’re always teasing him.  

“Let’s go to Bell Bottoms!” Jake says suddenly, a grin devouring his face. When you perch a brow at him, when Rooster sighs, he continues, “It’s the best disco joint in LA.”

At the sheer notion of going to the disco, your body is on fire. You’ve always wanted to go to the disco: dancing, drinking, sweating, singing, fucking. It all sounds so fucking glamorous. Your toes are numb just thinking about stepping into that foggy joint, just thinking about grinding yourself between Jake and Rooster.

But Rooster doesn’t like the disco. 

He’s frowning, watching your body tense with excitement, watching Jake grin at you and twirl your hair around his fingers. 

“Oh,” Jake suddenly says, catching Rooster’s less-than-enthused gaze. He glances at you and then nods to Rooster’s frown. “Forgot the old man doesn’t like the disco.” 

Fuck. 

You shoot around, bottom lip puckered and eyes wide. You scramble to move yourself onto Rooster’s lap, straddling him, sinking your fingers into his hair. Helplessly, he holds onto your hips and lets your weight sway him. 

“C’mon, Daddy Warbucks,” you whine, nudging your nose against his, “take your little orphan out for a spin! C’mon! I’ve got boogie shoes now!” 

“We’ll make it worth your while,” Jake adds from behind you, smiling at Rooster. “And by that I mean the first round is on Cherry!” 

You nod vehemently--you have the money now and you intend to spend it on the people that you love. And you love Jake and Rooster; you love them so much that your heart could burst.

Rooster contemplates for a moment, still frowning. You’re kissing all over his face now like a puppy, muttering out little please’s as you cuddle up against his warm form. 

“C’mon,” Jake encourages, smoothing his mustache. “She’s never been to the disco! Take this girl dancing!”

Rooster looks at you, pouting and smiling all at the same time, and then sighs. How could he ever say no to you? This might be an issue. 

“Alright,” Rooster relents, rolling his eyes. “I’ll take you dancing, kid.”

Just as you finish shimmying your mascara on your lashes, Rooster appears in the mirror behind you. He’s wearing a suede jacket and a tight-knit sweater, his shades low on his nose and his curls gelled. 

“Well, well, well,” you tease, smiling at him through your reflection, “you clean up mighty nice, Rooster.” 

He crosses his arms, leaning against the door. He would tease you back if he could get his voice to work--but he can’t, not when you look as fucking beautiful as you do right now. Your eyes are glittery and big, your cheeks are pink, your chest is glimmering, your heels are high, and your hair is perfectly straight. You look much older right now than you did earlier on set--thank God. Rooster doesn’t like it when you look like such a young thing. 

“So I’ve been told,” he finally breathes, letting his eyes drag down your body. “You look dynamite, baby.” 

You shake your ass at him a bit, grinning. You’re so excited that your nerves are vibrating. It was difficult to apply your eyeshadow with the tremble in your hands, but you did it. And now you’re almost bouncing. 

“Thanks,” you tell him, carefully applying lip gloss. “Like the dress?” 

Your dress is the color of a tangerine, made entirely of sequins. The neckline dips low and the hem stops short on your thighs. But the sleeves--the sleeves fan out elegantly into bells. It’s a perfect dress, one that you bought without even trying on because you just knew. 

“Shit yeah,” Rooster grunts, smoothing his fingers down your arm. 

You grin.

He watches you silently, just breathing you in. Everybody’s gonna want you at Bell Bottoms. Everybody already wants you anywhere, everywhere. And he knows that you aren’t his to keep--you’re not anyone’s to keep--but he wants to keep you here, in his house, close to him. 

“How many times’ve we fucked now?” Rooster asks softly. 

Humming, you scrunch your brows. 

“Well, what do you classify as fucking?” 

“Full penetration,” Rooster answers. 

You laugh. 

“Hmm,” you start, tutting. “Well, there was the first time in the office--you know, with Dennis. And then, what, about a dozen times since? Twice on New Years. Once today, right? So, like, I don’t know. A steady fifteen? Twenty?” 

He hums, swallowing. He can hear Jake in the living room, rummaging through the bar and making himself some cocktail that he shouldn’t be mixing with all the cocaine he’s ingested. 

“Right,” Rooster nods. He steadies himself on his feet, clearing his throat. “So, you like fucking me then, right?”

He hasn’t ever asked anyone that in his life because he’s always just known. And, really, he knows that you do enjoy fucking him. He’s asking because of earlier. He’s asking because you dropped everything in your hands to run to Jake, to kiss Jake, to love on Jake. And it isn’t necessarily that he’s jealous--but envious. He’s envious. You haven't truly gotten the opportunity to miss Rooster yet and he knows that. But his heart is heavy now and he wants to hear you say it: you like fucking him. 

You pause immediately, letting your eyes fall to his in the mirror. He’s looking at you completely earnestly, maybe even a bit sheepishly. But he isn’t letting his gaze falter, isn’t letting his eyes fall from your pretty ones. 

“Roo,” you start softly, finally facing him and letting your back rest against the sink, “I don’t like fucking you. I love fucking you.”

His cheeks grow warm with delight. But you’re looking at him very seriously, your brows knit and your head tilted. You’re very serious about what you’ve just said--because you’re very serious about sex. 

“Just had to make sure I was going your speed,” Rooster says, trying to sound casual. He doesn’t, though. “Don’t want you to have to fuck, you know, an old man.”

You feel it then--guilt. It’s like a warm glass of water being poured down the front of your dress and settling in a puddle at your heels. 

“Oh, baby,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck. He’s still blinking sheepishly, his heart sitting in his throat, as you stroke his face gently. “I don’t have to fuck anyone. Not outside of work, right? I want to fuck you. I always want to fuck you, baby.”

You’re telling the truth. Rooster is the best sex you’ve ever had in your life and it doesn’t really come close. Sure, you like fucking Jake and you liked fucking all those other men back home. But with Rooster it’s different--he’s attentive and driven, almost gentlemanly in his insistence that you cum before he does.

Rooster is searching your face: your knit brows, your pouty lips, your glassy eyes. He knows you’re telling the truth. He’s embarrassed for a moment that he even asked and gave himself away, but then you’re pressing your lips against his, curling your fingers in his hair. 

“You’re the fucking man,” you whisper against his lips, your breath hot and sultry against his mouth. 

He moans without even meaning to, his fingers digging into the rough sequins on your hips. Jesus fucking Christ--just to hear it fall from your lips, it makes his spine tingle. You recognize the chill, you see the way his eyes flutter shut, you see the way his breathing stutters. He likes it. What man wouldn’t like his ego stroked just a little bit?

“Oh, Cherry,” he mutters against your lips, smiling softly. His mustache rubs against your Cupid’s bow just right, getting mucked with gloss. “Fuck.”

He doesn’t want to ask you to say it again--but he wants to hear it again. Just the notion that the coolest fucking girl he knows thinks so highly of him makes his entire lower half go practically numb. 

“You’re the fucking man, Bradley,” you tell him, really meaning it. You’ve used his real name very sparingly since he gave it to you a couple days ago--you just think Rooster suits him. But when he hears you say it, his head tips back and his jaw goes slack. “I mean it, baby, I’m not fucking with you.” 

You can feel his hardening cock pressing against your dress now and it makes you smile. Just your words, just your breath, just this dress and it’s enough to make him hard. And that thought makes you wet again, makes your thighs press together. 

Maybe you’re aroused, too, because of how fervently you mean it. You don’t like to stroke men’s egos if you think you’re not going to get anything from them. You like being fucked by men and you like penises, but you don’t necessarily like men. But Rooster--God, he might be one of the best people you’ve ever met. You know already, just like you know every day that California is where you’re supposed to be, that you’re going to know him for a long time. And he’s the fucking man. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Bradley mutters, pressing your body against his. He’s thinking about the very first night you were here, when he picked your name, when you told him to imagine you were having sex again, when you got him started and left him out to dry. “You’re a fucking minx.”

“You’re not an old man,” you tell him, kissing his lips gently. His mouth is warm and wet and your gloss is transferring to his lips now. “But you’re my old man, right?”

You don’t know what you mean other than this is how you’re asking him if he’ll take care of you. You want him to take care of you--you want it more than anything in the world, you think.  

He isn’t sure what you’re asking. But he nods, pulling you tight against his body. 

“I’m whatever you want me to be,” he says against your lips. 

You like to hear men say that to you--but Rooster might be the first. Now you’re the one with a quivering chin, with a tingle running up your spine. Fuck.

By the time Jake comes round to your room, his hair freshly combed and his nose freshly blown, you’re pressing lingering kisses all along Bradley’s bare thighs and swallowing his thick ropes of cum. He’s leaning back against the door, his hands tangled in your hair, his Adam’s apple bobbing with every thick breath he takes. 

“I leave for a couple minutes and the two of you go at it again?” Jake asks, grinning at you and leaning against the doorframe. 

You press your face against Bradley’s warm thigh and sigh into all his expansive skin covering all that hard muscle. Even just blowing him, even just letting the head of his cock press into the back of your throat, even just swallowing his cum--it makes you feel closer to him. It makes you feel good. 

Rooster still has blood rushing past his ears from cumming so hard. It happened quickly, which isn’t something that happens often. You’re good with your mouth, though--too good almost.

“Fuck off,” Rooster grunts, panting still. He’s stroking your hair now as you just rest against his thigh. “Make yourself useful and get the car started, huh?” 

At that, Rooster tosses Hangman the keys. Hangman looks down at you, waiting for you to grin up at him or invite him on his knees beside you--but your eyes are shut. You’re just resting against the bare skin of Bradley’s thigh like it’s where you belong. You don’t even mind that you’re on your knees. 

Then it’s quiet again. It’s just you and Rooster and your lip gloss is smeared and he’s almost naked before you. There’s no hurry, there’s no rush. Things are just calm. He’s petting your hair, smoothing his palm over your silky hair over and over again. 

“Thank you,” you mumble to him, glancing up at him. 

Your eyes are heavy-lidded and sweet. 

Rooster’s throat is tight. 

“Kid, why are you thanking me?” He laughs, swiping his thumb across your jaw. “I should be thanking you.”

No one has ever thanked you for blowing them before. Your heart feels fuzzy, fuzzy and warm. You don’t know why you do it--why you wrap your arms around his leg and hug him close to your body, but you do. He doesn’t say anything about the sequins digging into his thighs and doesn’t think it’s strange that you’re hugging him. 

But when he’s all the way up there and you’re all the way down there, you look smaller than you ever have in his eyes before. A small and beautiful thing, holding him against you, relishing in the feeling of his leg hair against your soft cheek.

You’ve hugged a man’s leg like this before. Just one time, not very long ago. Except he was not naked and you did not have a pretty dress on. You were crying and he was, too. It doesn’t matter now, though, because with each day that flits past, you’re certain that you’ll never see that man again. Your daddy will stay in Nebraska and you’ll stay here.   

“Roo,” you whisper, “I wanna die in California.” 

His breath catches between his teeth. You say it with such calmness--you aren’t sad, you aren’t mourning. You’re just telling him something. 

“You will,” he says softly. “Eighty years from now.” 

You hum for a moment. Eighty years of this. Eighty years of his skin against yours. Eighty years of falling in love and getting fucked and eating burgers and getting paychecks. 

You sit back finally, lean your cheek into his palm. His eyes are soft, swimming with fondness. But he’s trying to read that strange serene expression all over your face. 

Softly, he wipes the wet mascara from under your eyes. When you kiss his fingers, rubbing your face against his hand like a loving cat, he nearly weeps at the softness that overwhelms his being. 

“You’ll stay with me, won’t you?” You ask, lashes battering against your cheeks. 

Men don’t stay with you forever. Not usually. Not before. 

“Where else would I go, kid?” He whispers. 

That’s a good enough answer for now. You’re the one that pulls his pants up, you’re the one that fastens his belt and zips his zipper. You’re the one that helps him tuck his sweater back into his pants.

“You know earlier, when I said thank you?” You ask as he helps you to your feet. He pulls you against his body, nodding gently as you cup his cheek. “I mean it. Thank you. For, you know…everything.” 

“It’s all gravy, baby,” he says, his breath fanning out over your face. 

Your thumb is rubbing the rough skin of his cheek soothingly like you’ve always been doing this.

“Good. Because I don’t think you can get rid of me.” 

Bell Bottoms is busy. Wall to wall, floor to mirrored ceiling, there are people dancing. It’s a sea of sweaty bodies dressed in corduroy and suede and silk and satin. It’s too dark to make out anyone’s face, too dark to differentiate one person from the other. 

It’s a smaller building--which Jake tells you makes it more exclusive. The bouncer, a big hulking man with a big hulking beard, claps Jake on the shoulder and lets all three of you past the velvet rope. And inside, everything is purple, red, green, yellow, blue, pink. It’s a kaleidoscope of neon, dazzling the velvet walls and the silver mirror balls on the ceiling.

Get Down Tonight by KC & The Sunshine Band is pulsing through the speakers. It’s so loud that you can feel every single word in your chest, in the soles of your feet. 

“I’ll grab us some drinks,” Rooster yells into your ear, manually stuffing your hand into Jake’s as Jake looks around excitedly, bobbing on his feet. Then he comes close to Jake’s ear and shouts, “Don’t let her go, man, alright?” 

And then Rooster is gone, shuffling through the sweaty bodies and hair and stepping in puddles of tequila that have been sloshed onto the floor. 

“Alright, baby,” Jake calls to you, holding both your hands in his and pulling your body against his. He’s high--excited, jittery. You look fucking beautiful in the dim glow of the room, like you’re a sculpture they had made for this exact spot. “You wanna bump?” 

Sinking your teeth into your lip, you nod excitedly. You’ve been waiting for him to ask. 

Honey, honey, me and you / And do the things / Ah, do the things / That we like to do

He shuffles the two of you against the wall and cages you in with his body. You’re grinning, kissing his face and sneaking peeks over his shoulder at the hustling crowd, the very lining of your stomach vibrating with excitement.

Jake’s happy that you want another bump--Bradley won’t ever get high with him and neither will any of the other friends. Maybe they’re all too old--or they think they’re too old--but you seem to be just the right age. Excited, young, new.

He tangles with the buttermints canister for a moment before he dabs his finger inside of it and then brings it to your lips. You’re already ready, grinning, barring your teeth for him. 

“You’re so fucking foxy,” he mutters, pressing his finger against your gums. 

There’s some sort of blissful relief in the movement of his finger in your mouth. The familiar taste of his skin and the new taste of flower petals on your tongue--you love it. You aren’t sure if you love it because it gets you high or if it’s because Jake is touching you. 

“There you go, baby,” he mutters to you, eyes heavy-lidded. “That’s gonna feel real nice when you’re dancing, huh?” 

Oh, do a little dance / Make a little love / Get down tonight, get down tonight 

When Bradley wanders back to the spot he left you, holding three glasses in his big hands, he can’t find you or Jake. But it only takes a moment or two before he sees you on the dance floor: you’re easy to spot when you’re the life of the party. 

And boy, are you the life of the party.

You’re in the middle of the neon dance floor, your dress reflecting every bit of technicolor that shines on you sporadically. You’re dancing like your life depends on it, throwing your hair back, leaving your throat open and your face serious. Every single swing of your hips, sway of your shoulders, bounce of your breasts--it’s enchanting. 

Jake’s right there with you, hands on your waist as you two grind against each other and everyone around you. He’s fucking high--he feels great and he knows you do, too. You’re a good dancer and he knows he is, too. He feels like the two of you are made for each other. 

Do a little dance / Make a little love / Get down tonight (Whoo), get down tonight (Baby)

And again, Rooster gets that feeling when he looks at you. You look tougher than everyone here--more beautiful, too. He thinks about you saying you want to die in California and his toes grow cold. He sits in a booth, leaves your drink close to his, and starts sipping on his Tom Collins. 

“I feel so fucking good,” you call to Jake, hands over his shoulders. Your heart is pounding and you’re sweating, but you feel like you can do anything right now. “Do I look so fucking good?” 

Jake grins, nodding fervently. 

“You’re the hottest fucking thing this dance floor’s ever seen!”

You laugh loudly, tipping your head back. 

Everyone is singing along and grooving, jiving. Everyone is touching you seemingly, the entire crowd moving in tandem. And when people touch you, you feel like they love you. Everybody loves Cherry Arsan. And Cherry Arsan loves everybody, too. 

“Let’s never leave each other,” you tell Jake, all the affection sitting hot in your chest suddenly spilling out of your mouth. Your eyes are teary as you hold his cheeks in your hands, still moving your shoulders along with the song. “Let’s just always be like this, alright?” 

“I wouldn’t leave you,” Jake says, his heart racing. “I fucking love you, Cherry!”

A certain pleasure prickles your skin at the words. 

He loves you--he means it. You know that.

“Say it again,” you moan, biting your lip. 

“I fucking love you,” Jake grins, peppering your face with kisses. 

It’s all you’ve really ever wanted--to be loved, adored. 

And because he’s high and he feels invincible and because you’re high and anything goes, you let him lift you. He wraps his arms around your thighs and you laugh wildly, bracing yourself against his shoulders. And then you’re up above everyone else, spinning, your head tipped back. 

You can see your reflection in the disco ball above you, all one thousand little squares of you. You’re fucking beautiful. Jake sinks his face into your belly and inhales you, grinning. He feels you flex with delighted laughter and holds you tighter. 

Then your head lulls at the perfect moment--you see Rooster sitting at a booth by himself, three glasses before him. He’s watching you, a smile tugging at his lips. You wave at him wildly, blowing him kisses and throwing your hair behind you. 

“I love you!” You call to Rooster, but it’s lost in the sound of the music. He doesn’t hear you. But you keep calling it to him. “I fucking love you!”

It’s well past three in the morning when Rooster carries you inside the house, Jake trailing behind him with a broken Elvis song falling from his lips. No one is entirely sober, least of all you and Jake. 

Almost all your makeup has melted off and your hair is matted to your face where you sweated from dancing all night. Jake’s holding your shoes and you’re softly scratching the back of Rooster’s neck, head on his shoulder, with your legs wrapped around his hips. 

“Wanna another drink?” Jake asks you, slurring slightly, as he toes his shoes off and closes the front door behind him. 

Rooster scoffs. 

“Man, you need to sleep it off,” Rooster says, frowning when you nod at Jake. “You, too, Saturday Night Fever.” 

“S’Wednesday,” you retort brokenly, yawning. 

Rooster rolls his eyes, carrying you to the couch as you kiss his neck. 

“It’s Thursday, baby,” he corrects. 

Jake is already rummaging around the bar, still singing to himself. He’s fading fast, he can feel it. But he wants to keep the party going--wants to feel all that life thrumming in his body, pulsing through his veins. 

“Got anymore Aperol?” Jake asks, vision bleary as he knocks into a few bottles ineffectively. 

Rooster sits on the sofa, expecting you to climb off him and sprawl you--you don’t, though. You just stay connected to him, your breaths hot and damp against his shoulder. He hugs you close to him, humming. You’re gonna have a Hell of a time tomorrow. 

“No,” Rooster lies. He wants Jake to just settle in for the night. “Why don’t you go take a shower, man? You’ll sober up.” 

“Don’t want to sober up,” Jake sighs, grabbing a glass and pouring the first liquor he can paw in it. “Sobriety’s for squares.” 

“I approve this message,” you mutter, blindly throwing a thumbs up in the air. 

Rooster scoffs. 

You sit up a bit, just enough to press your forehead against Rooster’s. You’re crashing--fading fast, he can tell. Now that the blow has worn off and the alcohol has settled in your belly, you’re almost done for. Your eyes are heavy and your limbs ache and your feet are sore, but you’re still so happy. 

“You didn’t dance with me,” you whine, pressing your fingers into Rooster’s cheeks.

“I don’t dance, kid,” Rooster says gently, stroking your flushed cheek.

“But don’t you break all the rules for me?” You pout, tracing his amused smile.

Jake sinks into the sofa beside the two of you, sipping on lukewarm peppermint schnapps. It’s even warmer going down, spreading across his belly. 

“Sometimes I do,” Rooster says softly, swiping the smudged lip gloss off your chin.

“Jakey danced with me,” you grin lazily, glancing at Jake, who’s humming with his eyes fallen shut. “He said he loved me, didn’t you?” 

“Fuck, yeah,” Jake grins, peeking an eye open to tussle your hair.

Rooster’s heart skitters for a moment. 

“See,” you pout, turning back to Rooster. You hold onto his shoulders, rub your nose into his. “Jake dances with me and he loves me. Don’t you love me, baby?” 

Rooster swallows thickly. 

“Of course I love you, baby,” he answers. 

He’s thinking about when the three of you sat on this sofa not long ago--when you and Rooster admitted to never being in love, when Jake talked about Gentry. He’s thinking about the way he watches you lay on Jake, the way you slinked away from him and into his arms. And he holds you tighter now, pressing his lips to yours. You taste like salt and sweat and vodka, your lips plump with sleep. 

He isn’t gonna let go of you tonight. He’s gonna stay right here, holding you against him. Because he does--of course he does--love you. He is almost entirely sure of it. Maybe not in the way he thought he would love someone, but in a way that makes his eyes heavy with salt.

“I know it,” you mutter to him, stroking his curls. “I know it.”

☿ 𝐚/𝐧: omg!!! the disco!! in this economy?? it's more likely than you think!!

☿ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

☿ 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠

☿ 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐳-𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐬

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[scotianostra]

Happy Birthday Scottish actress Georgie Glen.

Georgie was born in Helensburgh on April 20th 1956 and as a child had little interest in appearing in school plays. She studied graphic design at Glasgow School of Art and moved to London in her mid-twenties to design book covers for the Thames and Hudson publishing house.

Looking for other interests she joined Floodlight Council, an organization set up to bring out adult’s artistic skills and then became part of the Questors Theatre Company in Ealing, West London. Here she met the late Alan Rickman - who, like Georgie, had a background in design before treading the boards - and he encouraged her to follow her acting ambitions. As a result she enrolled at the Bristol Old Vic drama school and on graduating had her first job at the Wolsey Theatre in Ipswich.

Even then she felt, somewhat modestly, that she did not have the looks for a leading lady but ever since her television debut in 1988 she has been a reliable supporting player in virtually every type of show from sketch comedy to period drama, notably in a recurring role as doughty Sergeant Jennifer Nokes in Heartbeat and the liberal, kindly teacher head of History, Audrey in'Waterloo Road - filmed in her native Scotland.

Indeed she may be said to be one of the first ladies of character acting and though her film roles have again always been in support of bigger names she has proved herself to be a scene- stealer par excellence, as one of the more enthusiastic in Calendar girls alongside Helen Mirren and Julie Walters.

As I said earlier she has been in every type of show, to name a few we have comedy roles in Harry Enfield and Friends, Alas Smith & Jones and Little Britain, drama series and films are two many to mention them all but there are dozens, the pick of them include Taggart, of course, Peak Practice, Doctor Findlay, Mrs Brown, Shakespeare in Love, Silent Witness, and I think a lot of you will maybe “say” oh yes, when I tell you that she was the Judge in The Victim in 2019, an excellent four part series set in Scotland also starring John Hannah and Kelly McDonald, and she was Denise in the brilliant Channel four show Damned!

[ohmerricat]

if you've watched nightmare in silver i'd love to hear what you think — it's a pretty good episode in my opinion and it's one of the few cybermen-as-the-main-monster episodes i actually liked, but it's also one of those episodes that takes some of its most interesting elements from something i like a lot more from the eu so that coloured my perception a bit (turns out constantly going wow just like zagreus makes you less capable of just enjoying the episode as it is. oops)

it’s… a mixed bag of an episode, honestly, provided how much stuff is actually in it. i liked select parts of it a whole lot, much room for thought there, whereas others … skeeved me out, to put it mildly. i don’t think neil could possibly have topped the masterpiece that is The Doctor’s Wife, and whatever he set out to do here… could have stood a little more editing??

to get the grumbling out of the way: the kids. Most Annoying Who Side Characters Ever award goes to them, singlehandedly taking first place away from that stuck-up nerd in Poison Sky. i don’t know if neil intended for them to act supremely slappable, but christ alive. just the constant dour negativity and ‘bored teenager’ unimpressed commentary … walking vibe drainers. made it hard to care about their fate tbh. oh they got cyberconverted? oh they got rescued and brought back? Whatever. call me a boomer apologist… i’ve never referred to a pair of children (fictional or real) as ‘ungrateful spoiled brats’ before but this could be the day i start.

additionally: the hell was that stuff about clara at the end? “too short and bossy and your nose is all funny” “mystery wrapped in an enigma stuffed into a skirt that’s just a little too tight” go to hell gaiman. genuinely. here i was relying on you, thinking you’re immune to casual misogyny. especially since it doesn’t even make sense… clara’s skirts are never tight? not once? i understand that the former comment was a bluff to get out of admitting feelings but, again it’s not even accurate, since jenna coleman’s nose completely fits the beauty standard?? baffles me

those are all minor nitpicks bc other than that the episode’s fun! and creative, especially all the scenes with the cyber-planner and their high-stakes chess game (you like chess dontcha). i haven’t listened to zagreus (YET) but from what i’ve gathered from internet osmosis the doctor gets possessed by an … evil nursery rhyme? lmao. seems legit

anyway nightmare in silver has unfortunately made me understand people who find matt smith attractive. i’ve cracked it: it’s a dormant gene that only activates when he’s playing an intimidating villain. especially here, when he’s mr clever, a warped mirror of eleven, with the boundaries between the two blurring so far as to confuse even clara. this moment is top notch:

which one of you said that? she’s right to question it.

he’s been quietly manipulative with clara for the entire duration of their travels so far, concealing from her the truth about the ‘mystery’ that her whole existence presents to him, while she remains the object of his puzzle-solving quest. a particularly odious example in this scene in Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS, where the doctor is fully aware that their impending doom at the cliff is an illusion, but puts on the pretense that they’re about to fall to their deaths anyway, building all that fear just to to coax clara’s “secret” out of her (“since we’re both going to die here, you may as well tell me what you are”). as soon as he gets what he wants — or, rather, doesn’t, because there’s no satisfactory answer yet — he reveals that he’d known all this time that the TARDIS wouldn’t have let them fall.

that’s what makes mr. clever so insidiously, well, clever as a plot device: eleven’s not possessed by an external force, not quite. no: it’s his own shadow showing. he’s always been like this. the cyber-code slowly taking over the right side of his brain is just as smart as him, just as manipulative, just as much of a trickster. all his darker traits turned up to, well, 11 (sorry not sorry). “allons-y!” “fantastic!” “you’ve had some cowboys in here” mr clever is a parasite that takes the worst and best parts of the doctor, cuts them up and re-attaches them in a parodic audio-collage, and isn’t that just so fucking ingenious

another line that’s just a straight banger, not much to say about it really other than the fact that it cuts straight through to the core of the narrative:

this spun out of control and turned out far far longer than expected, my apologies (not really. you asked!)

[sexcromancy]

if you're looking for concise windows into the relationship dynamics, chapter 9 in book 2 of Emma has it all... I love this teasing exchange between Knightley and Emma:

"This is coming as you should do," said she; "like a gentleman. I am quite glad to see you."

He thanked her, observing, "How lucky that we should arrive at the same moment; for, if we had met first in the drawing-room, I doubt whether you would have discerned me to be more of a gen- tleman than usual. You might not have distinguished how I came by my look or manner."

"Yes I should; I am sure I should. There is always a look of consciousness or bustle when people come in a way which they know to be beneath them. You think you carry it off very well, I dare say; but with you it is a sort of bravado, an air of affected unconcern: I always observe it whenever I meet you under those circumstances. Now you have nothing to try for. You are not afraid of being supposed ashamed. You are not striving to look taller than any body else. Now I shall really be very happy to walk into the same room with you."

"Nonsensical girl!" was his reply, but not at all in anger.

and then the excellent dinner party scene, with Churchill and Emma exchanging flirty theories on What Is Up With Jane Fairfax. this, knowing the truth as a reader, is such great emotional cross purposes miscommunication - Emma leads the entire conversation and Churchill gamely agrees with her, which works well to hide his actual intentions towards Jane and simultaneously strokes Emma's ego. and then Harriet walks in and Emma spends a moment being obsessed with her:

Emma watched the entrée of her own particular little friend; and if she could not exult in her dignity and grace, she could not only love the blooming sweetness and the artless manner, but could most heartily rejoice in that light, cheerful, unsentimental disposition which allowed her so many alleviations of pleasure in the midst of the pangs of disappointed affection. There she sat and who would have guessed how many tears she had been lately shedding? To be in company, nicely dressed herself, and seeing others nicely dressed, to sit and smile and look pretty, and say nothing, was enough for the happiness of the present hour.

and then more Churchill flirting:

In he walked, the first and the handsomest; and after paying his compliments en passant to Miss Bates and her niece, made his way directly to the opposite side of the circle, where sat Miss Woodhouse; and till he could find a seat by her, would not sit at all. Emma divined what every body present must be thinking. She was his object, and every body must perceive it. She introduced him to her friend Miss Smith, and, at convenient moments afterwards, heard what each thought of the other. "He had never seen so lovely a face, and was delighted with her naïveté." And she,-"only to be sure it was paying him too great a compliment, but she did think there were some looks a little like Mr. Elton." Emma restrained her indignation, and only turned from her in silence.

I love especially that that last comment can be read as "Harriet how dare you compare my new hot guy to your annoying priest" or as "Harriet how dare you call him handsome he belongs to me and you also belong to me in an entirely separate way and my food can't touch!"

and then finally, Emma freaks out at the idea that Knightley might be in love with Jane Fairfax and calls it ridiculous, her main objection being that... if he married, her 6 year old nephew might not get the house. lmao. girl.

But Mr. Knightley does not want to marry. I am sure he has not the least idea of it. Do not put it into his head. Why should he marry? He is as happy as possible by himself; with his farm, and his sheep, and his library, and all the parish to manage; and he is ex- tremely fond of his brother's children. He has no occasion to marry, either to fill up his time or his heart.

I love the way that this chapter showcases all three different romantic entanglements Emma finds herself at the center of: a flirty, long-awaited courtship with Churchill, in which she gets to flatter herself as his "object", and takes equal pleasure in being so and in everyone knowing it. conversely, Harriet is "her particular friend"; if Emma is plumping her feathers over being the target of an eligible bachelor's affection, she imagines that Harriet can feel much the same about her. up to this point in the novel (Churchill's arrival shifting her focus), absolutely everything has been about what Emma can do for Harriet, how she can improve her, how she enjoys being fawned over by the less socially experienced and less wealthy girl. in this way, Emma gets to leverage her power dynamics in two directions: the pleasure of looking after Harriet, and the pleasure of being Churchill's object. obviously, class is a huge part of this, and of how Emma evaluates her world and everyone's respective place in it. and then, bookending the chapter, there's Knightley. I love that he spends this first half of the novel very much in the background, a reliable fixture. the outbursts over his possible marriage are Emma's only strong feelings about him so far, maybe excepting her very sweet (and telling!) comment about wanting to be done with being mad. in both the carriage conversation and the marriage freakout, Emma is concerned with Knightley's station: that he might not live up to it, that he might marry beneath it. in her relationships with Churchill and Harriet, Emma is enjoying the manipulation of class, gender, and social power dynamics at play. but she is extremely concerned with keeping Knightley at the right level, at her level. I know at the end of the novel she specifically appreciates how well matched they are, and I think this is seeded here. her chief anxiety over Knightley is that he, as a constant fixture in her life, might change (and so soon after Mrs. Weston left!). she makes fun of her father plenty for his resistance to anything different, but Emma can be the same about many things.

[kolbisneat]

MONTHLY MEDIA: May 2024

Hey it's May! Big X-Men month over here but also lots of other great stuff. Here's how I spent the last 31 days!

……….FILM……….

Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga (2024) Impossible to live up to my expectations, given how much I love Mad Max: Fury Road. I liked the bits with new characters, I liked the bits that felt like Fury Road, and I surprisingly liked how it tied into the previous film during the credits. It's a different beast and given it succeeds as a prequel, I gotta respect it for what it is.

……….TELEVISION……….

Mr. & Mrs. Smith (Episode 1.01 to 1.06) Shockingly violent but it does a good job of setting the tone for the series in the first scenes. Love it when something fantastically (spy life) is used to highlight the mundane (stages of a romantic relationship). Big fan.

Delicious in Dungeon (Episode 1.18 to 1.22) Uuuuugh so close to the end of the season and I'm not looking forward to the wait between now and season 2.

X-Men '97 (Episode 1.08 to 1.10) Hey a really tight season of television! Maybe a little too tight at moments (strangely it feels like it could've benefited from 1 or 2 more eps in the middle there) but I really do prefer a fast pace over a slog. Now I'm gonna go read some X-Men comics.

Succession (Episode 4.03 to 4.10) Somehow avoided having the ending spoiled and it was a perfect culmination of great characters and writing. What I love about this series is how consistently it puts the core trio in the same room, and how the score is practically all just variations of the intro song. Loved it.

……….YOUTUBE……….

The Spectacular Failure of the Star Wars Hotel by Jenny Nicholson I've been watching Nicholson's videos for years and it's great to see this one break out of its core community for a few reasons: 1. it shows that thoughtful and thorough art can connect and has value and 2. towards the end it becomes a scathing indictment of cynical corporations. Much like blockbuster cinema slowly dying, it confirms that the general public can discern art from content and won't support the latter. The Star Wars Hotel was overpriced content and it failed. VIDEO

……….READING……….

The Farthest Shore by Ursula K. Le Guin (Compelte) I don't know what I was thinking when I read and disliked A Wizard of Earthsea. This and The Tombs of Atuan are so thoroughly fantastic that I feel the need to go back and reread the first book after I finish the series. Such economical and poetic storytelling.

Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency by Douglas Adams (Complete) Big fan of the Hitchhiker's Trilogy but maybe that set the bar too high for this one. It never quite came together and if asked what the book was about, I'd have a hard time landing on something. Maybe that works for some folks and I'm in full support of the journey being the adventure, but it just wasn't for me.

House of X / Powers of X by Jonathan Hickman, Pepe Larraz, R.B. Silva, and Marte Gracia (Complete) Hey the new show has me in the mood to read some X-Men comics! I appreciated the series more on this reread but still find the pacing of the "reveal" to undersell the gravity of what it's suggesting. I'm keen to get into the rest of the series even though it's a convoluted jumble of multiple titles. Comics!

Dawn of X Volume 1 by Jonathan Hickman and a whole slew of talented folks (Complete) Reading single issues from different teams back-to-back really highlights individual strengths and weaknesses. I really dug some issues and was bored by others but I'm going to keep going with these collected volumes to see what sticks.

Delicious in Dungeon Vol 7 & 8 by Ryoko Kui (Complete) I really forgot most of these volumes. Izutsumi is such a good foil for the group (especially now that Marcille is barely resistant to eating monsters at this point) but I always have trouble with the moody loner types.

……….AUDIO……….

Hyperdrama by Justice (2024) You know I haven't listened to this since the start of the month. Some standout tracks but the album as a whole didn't leave me with much of an impression.

The Lonely Island and Seth Meyers Podcast (Podcast) The Lonely Island digital shorts were a foundational part of my youth and listening to how they were made, along with behind-the-scenes stuff with SNL, is a great listen.

……….GAMING……….

OZ: A Fantasy Role-Playing Setting (Andrews McMeel Publishing) Tuesday crew is beginning to see the aftermath of their political assassination (you can read all about it here!) and the Mof1 crew is actively sabotaging a memorial to the lives lost in a catastrophic explosion they caused.

And that's it. See you in June!

[uniiiquehecrt]

It bums me that the Sonic VAs got nothing for the Sonic movie. At least the Mario one gave Charles Martinet something to do even if they're side characters. Mike Pollock has been voicing Eggman since Shadow the Hedgehog and he got Jack. Same with Smith and Griffith. Could have at least had Knuckles dad be played by Dan Green or Travis Willingham or something (note I love Christopher Lloyd)

Oh trust me, my friend, I am right there with you. It gets worse with the addition of Tails. He is still voiced by his og actress, Colleen O'Shaughnessey. And let me tell you right now, the difference in talent and competency when you put Tails and Ben Schwartz into the same scene together is night and day. (Here's their literal first scene together to prove it.)

(And to anyone who thinks I'm giving Mr. Schwartz a hard time... i mean, fair enough. I am. But you can't tell me he has given ANYTHING to Sonic that he didn't already do in DuckTales (2017) as Dewey Duck, and as Jean-Ralphio Saperstein before the both of them in Parks &. Recreation, which is the entire point of why I viscerally dislike him as a voice actor very specifically. It'd be fine if he stayed in his lane, you know, as a comedian, but he didn't, so he's getting my full criticism. Especially where Sonic is concerned.)

Jason Griffith most likely would have been pleased to come back to Sonic. I mean he voice acted for the guy for seven years and is HIGHLY beloved by the Sonic fandom to this day. Especially for his work on SonicX. Roger Craig Smith is IMMENSELY talented and has been voicing Sonic for over ten years now, and is so good at his job that he is STILL voicing Sonic despite the franchise's setbacks and his own announcement of leaving the role. Because he's good at it and he's passionate about it. (I personally love RCS more than Jason. Not that Jason is bad by any means but RCS is underrated imo.)

I'm not as well versed in this, but there's ALSO the fact that Knuckles' voice actors didn't get hired to voice the echidna either. They hired Idris Elba, and some people were saying was going to be fantastic in the role, and you know what? In my opinion, he sucked. He absolutely bombed it. And I say that knowing how well he does on screen in an acting role because I have watched him play Heimdall for 10+ years. He HAS talent, but is NOT a voice actor. And he certainly is not a good fit for Knuckles the Echidna. He didn't even come anywhere close to emulating Knuckles' voice.

And then you get the argument of "oh but the voices don't have to be the same" — my sweet summer children... The joy of voice acting and animated characters is that it DOES all come down to the voice and the voice matches the character design. The voice is the ENTIRE SELLING POINT. You don't get the voice right, then the entire acting fails and no animation talent can save it. It sucks but it's true. (As someone who had to struggle to find a fitting voice for my thesis' film's main villain this is such a priority that people overlook. Good enough isn't good at all.)

Honestly though, the real kicker here is that the Sonic franchise should never have been a "live action" film at all. I loathe "live action remakes" of animated films no matter what they are. I especially hate CGI/live action fusions that make that the selling point when Roger Rabbit proved that it can be done much better with 2D/hand-drawn animation. (To a lesser extent: compare the og. Space Jam with the remake, or even Space Jam with the og Smurfs. The quality difference all these years past is not even comparable.)

Also, it's not even a "live action remake", because, spoiler alert, the characters are still animated and no amount of life-like special effects will change that.

Hollywood (and America as a whole) needs to quit disrespecting animation and calling it "for kids" when it is a medium. It always has been.

[fox-glove]

Songs to exist frightfully off of…songs to go through the effort of googling “how to put a song on a loop on Spotify” and fall asleep in an armchair after getting home at 8 am…songs that will most definitely kill your mood or revive and slap the shit out of you..

“Lakes of Canada” by The Innocence Mission or covered by Sufjan Stevens. Honestly, this is a dealer’s choice kinda thing but if you’re inclined to go with Sufjan, give the original a chance because it’s just as good. The song holds a very strange catharsis for me. It always brings me back to this terrible period of rejection several months ago when everything seemed very world-shattering. I think if I hadn’t listened to this song as much as I have I wouldn’t be able to look back at all.

“Famous Blue Raincoat” by Leonard Cohen was my gateway drug. “And what can I tell you, my brother, my killer, what can I possibly say? I guess that I miss you, I guess I forgive you, I’m glad you stood in my way,” is not the line to be left to your own devices to interpret for the first time pissant drunk listening to records.

"Against Pollution" by The Mountain Goats is another song where I just get caught on the execution of one particular line. Just "And a guy came in," absolutely caught me. I have no idea what Mr Darnielle is doing but he's doing it completely right. I personally think the simpler songs instrumentation-wise are the best in TMG's discography.

"Roman Candle" by Elliot Smith is the titular song of his first album. So many songs in there that I wish I listened to years ago. I found out about Elliot when I saw The Scene in The Royal Tennumbaums. Then, I just sleepily waded through his music until I hit this. The song possesses a kind of anger and rawness that belongs to someone with no aim toward mainstream success. It isn't a song written for an audience.

"Sadie" by Joanna Newsom grows on you. I have a bad habit of not being able to read the vibe as far as musical accompaniment goes. I will put on my "The Milk-Eyed Mender" CD while friends are over and trying to sleep in random uncomfortable places. Apparently, this isn't a popular choice. Joanna Newsom's music has a voice that's so rough and fragile, that anyone would love it eventually. May take you a bit...

"Casimir Pulaski Day" by Sufjan Stevens is the most vivid listening experience one could ask for. Talk about sustaining, you know? It's where Sufjan shows his personal interest in the art of the short story. I don't remember when I listened to Illinois for the first time but whenever it was, I should separate my life into before and after. I also feel like I didn't really feel immersed in the album until I rode through Illinois and upstate Wisconsin (an area I feel extremely attached to 3,000 miles away from it) on a bus. The song makes me want to take a cross-country bus. They should make those things cheaper. If you get anything from this list, take a greyhound. They're terribly impractical modes of transportation, more expensive than you'd think, and the best environment for some real artistic contemplation.

[bethanydelleman]

Asks about my OTPs

Pick your top 10 OTPs without reading the questions, then answer the questions after you've made your list (I will do my top 10 Austen OTPs)

Catherine Morland & Henry Tilney

Fanny Price & Henry Crawford

Elizabeth Bennet & Fitzwilliam Darcy

Harriet Smith & Robert Martin

Caroline Bingley & Sir Walter Elliot

Elinor Dashwood & Edward Ferrars

Marianne Dashwood & Colonel Brandon

Emma Woodhouse & Jane Fairfax

Eleanor Tilney & her laundry Viscount

Sir Walter & Himself

1. Do you remember the episode/scene/chapter that you first started shipping 6? – When Edward comes to Barton and makes fun of Marianne's love of dead trees.

2. Have you ever read a fanfic about 2? – Yes, my favourite is Fanny: A Mansfield Park Story by Amelia Marie Logan, and I've written severa, including one full length novel.

3. Has a picture of 4 ever been your screen saver/profile picture/tumblr screen saver? – Nope! Always my kids these days.

4. If 7 were to suddenly break up today, what would your reaction be? – This actually happens in FF quite a lot, people are always killing off Brandon early into the marriage and leaving Marianne with a baby. It makes me sad, let Brandon be happy! He's only 37 when they marry he probably has another 20 years at least! (Honestly, since Brandon has survived to his age, Marianne actually has a higher chance of passing away since she's the one making babies).

5. Why is 1 so important? – Because they are so uncomplicated and happy. Just two very cute people making a cute marriage and I would defend their ship to the ends of the earth.

6. Is 9 a funny ship or a serious ship? – Um, it's a whole joke that Austen didn't reveal a new character because the new viscount made a laundry list that Catherine found. But I love Eleanor so much that I do seriously want her to be happy.

7. Out of all the ships listed, which ship has the most chemistry? – Henry & Catherine, Harriet & Robert I think? I may be a bad judge of "chemistry".

8. Out of all your ships listed, which ship has the strongest bond? – Elinor & Edward, I'm always surprised how sure they are of the other's love in spite of of all the obstacles.

9. How many times have you read/watched the 10’s fandom? - I honestly don't know at this point, I read Persuasion once as a teenager and I didn't like it but I LOVED Sir Walter. I've watched all the adaptations (including 1971) and I've read/listened to the book multiple times now.

10. Which ship has lasted the longest? – Sir Walter & himself obviously, that's been going strong for 54 years. I hope it continues until his death at 93. All the others are new pairings.

11. How many times, if ever, has 6 broken up? – The only Austen couple to break up and get back together is Anne & Wentworth, so zero for Elinor & Edward.

12. If the world was suddenly thrust into a zombie apocalypse, which ship would make it out alive, 2 or 8? – Huh, Fanny & Henry or Emma & Jane? They both have a sickly member, which is not great for their odds... Emma is smart but often distracted which would be really bad but Jane is a devoted learner.... Henry would "improve" his estate with zombie moats... I'm voting for both Fanny and Emma don't make it and Henry Crawford & Jane Fairfax find their second true pairing together.

13. Did 7 ever have to hide their relationship for any reason? – Colonel Brandon is attempting to hide his regard out of respect for Marianne and that's why I love him so much.

14. Is 4 still together? – Yes, eating walnuts and petting "her" little cow. Man they are cute!

15. Is 10 canon? – Yep! Though a bunch of the others aren't

16. If all 10 ships were put into a couple’s Hunger Games, which couple would win? – I'm going to put my money on Colonel Brandon, who will do anything to save Marianne. He would be the Katniss and she is the Peeta.

17. Has anybody ever tried to sabotage 5’s ship? – Yes, Mr. Elliot has been trying to prevent Sir Walter from marrying again so he can inherit the baronetcy. He almost succeeds!

18. Which ship would you defend to the death and beyond? –  Catherine Morland and Henry Tilney, they are the only couple I can't bring myself to break up in fan fiction.

19. Do you spend hours a day going through 3’s tumblr page? – Um, none? I end up seeing Elizabeth & Darcy stuff no matter what, I have tags on the lesser known Austen characters.

20. If an evil witch descended from the sky and told you that you had to pick one of the ten ships to break up forever or else she’d break them all forever, which ship would you sink? – That is hard because these are my favourite, but I guess Emma can marry boring Knightley instead of having a torrid enemies-to-lovers affair with Jane Fairfax...

I'm not big on chain letters. Thank you @firawren for the tag, if anyone wants to try go ahead!

[just-horrible-things]

‘Verse: Box Boy Universe Story: Just Acting

Regret [ First | Prev | tbc ]

"Um, mister?" wavers Liv-as-Buttercup. "Where are we going?" She's stalling, playing her part but with no direction, no plan as Jude drags her by the hand back towards the scene of the crime. 

It's only a matter of time before they find the body.

Jude is silent. Buttercup steps on a sharp rock and stumbles and they give her no time to recover. 

"Mister? Um, my Sir doesn't like me going with strangers…" "Yeah yeah, you make your excuses. I'm not falling for it Liv." 

They're almost at the light now, close enough to be seen by the milling partygoers on the veranda. 

Close enough to be seen by someone who knows that Buttercup ought to be upstairs with Ms Hartling right now.

"Mister, you don't understand – he really doesn't like it – I'm sorry, I don't want to get you in trouble!"

Jude stops, and Buttercup misses a step as Liv almost catches herself but decides at the last instant that it's less like her if she lets herself collide with his body after all. He smells like expensive cologne and entitlement.

He grabs a fistful of the front of her costume to keep her close. The other hand is bruisingly tight on Buttercup’s wrist. 

"Which is it," they hiss. "Are you a pretty Pet, or are you gonna drop the act? If you don't want me to do whatever I want to you, you'd better stop playing games and start answering some fucking questions."

Tears well up on cue. Buttercup leans up against Jude's body, pressing her lips out in perfect unhappy confusion. "I'm sorry," she repeats, "I don't know what you want, I'd do it for you but my Sir—" "Who is your "Sir", huh? Some accomplice you're hoping will get you out of this?"

Accomplice rings alarm bells. What has Jude been up to since college anyway? Do they somehow know what Liv has been up to? She always assumed they went back to whatever pointless little town crapped them out in the first place and got a dead end job in some office because they sure weren’t getting a career in acting.

"What did I do?" she pleads, because if she was Buttercup none of their accusations would make sense. "Answer the question.” A yank on her clothes, shaking her like a doll. “Who is this "Sir"? Does he even exist?" "Mr. Calvin Cohen," Buttercup answers earnestly. "If he sees you touching me—" and she presses a little harder against them so that her breasts enfold their hand and trap it between them "—he'll be so angry."

Jude’s forehead is furrowed with comical confusion as they try to sort through the lies. Liv fights the rising urge to laugh. They’re trying to figure out her agenda with every word while she's just bluffing one second to the next.

"I'll just have to take you somewhere private then, won't I?"

Yes. Yes that's perfect – well, not perfect – but a lot better than dragging her into the light. 

Buttercup bites her lip, the way Smith had Liv practice over and over – slightly off-centre, just hard enough to dent the soft flesh. "I shouldn't," she wavers. "I'm not asking," Jude snarls, taking the bait.

Buttercup pulls back a little as they cast about. Not a lot, not enough to be defiant, just enough that they feel the tension in her. When they start back the way they came, she drags her feet. 

"What were you even doing out there on your own if you're supposed to be a Pet, huh? Sneaking around in the dark? Your story doesn't add up." "I, I was… I was hiding from Sir, sir. I’m sorry…" Another scoff.

He leads her, of course, back to the trellises. Jude never had much imagination. Laughter – wild and not exactly compos mentis – threatens once again, and Liv bites the inside of her cheek hard enough to taste blood. She cannot corpse now.

The wisteria overhead is leafless, but artfully manicured shrubs provide plenty of cover from prying eyes. Liv thinks about fighting, even though she is exhausted and nearly naked and one shout from Jude would bring every security guard in the place down on her head –

– and if she can’t kill them, they’ll identify her, and she’ll be in a whole other world of trouble.

“I don’t know what I did to upset you,” Buttercup pleads, “but I’m sorry—” “Last chance,” Jude growls. “Or if you insist you’re a Pet, I’m gonna treat you like one.”

Good, thinks Liv. Pretending is the first step towards believing.

“I am a Pet, sir,” Buttercups insists. Liv forces her voice a shade huskier. “I can be good for you.” “Good.” A cold and nasty smile.

Then his fist connects with Liv’s stomach, and she doubles over as her lungs freeze up.

It’s a good thing that everyone reacts the same way to a gut punch, Pet or not. Because for a long few seconds, Liv isn’t acting at all.

Jude yanks her head up by the hair and slaps her across the face. Convenient, involuntary tears well up at the sting. She manages to suck in a thin, effortful breath.

Thinking Smith she has the presence of mind to drop to her knees.

I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, sir, I’ll be good for you.

The only word she can force out is “—sir—!”

He pulls a fist back to hit her again, and every instinct Liv has screams to twist away from it or lift a hand or something but – she cannot picture Smith fighting back and so – against every fibre of her being – she holds still and lets him hit her.

She sees stars. Or – not stars exactly – the little pale dancing, wriggling motes that people mean when they say someone’s seeing stars.

It’s easier – when he lets go of her hair – to crumple to the ground than not.

Gil was right, thinks a sick treacherous little voice in her gut. I don’t know what I’m doing.

Buttercup sobs a snotty, tear-thickened sob as Liv’s lungs finally let her take a full breath. “I’m – sorry–” she gasps “--I don’t – what did I do I’m sorry–!”

She doesn't see the kick coming, but pain knifes through her side at the impact. Thoughts flash through her mind of ruptured kidneys, spinal damage, internal bleeding. She wants to fight back. She's at every disadvantage.

"C'mon," Jude jeers, "not gonna fight me? Where's the Liv I know?" "Please!" she wails as Buttercup, "-- sir please whatdidIdo?" "Shhh! Goddamn, keep it down!"

Liv rolls over. Jude's foot slams down on her back, pinning her. The flagstones and the trellises swim. She's in too deep to change tack now. It's all or nothing, double or bust.

Buttercup bawls messily on the ground.

"Shhhh!" Jude repeats with more urgency, "God's sakes, I thought you didn't want your Sir to catch you."

She cries quieter. Pets do as they're told. But she keeps crying. It's the least Liv thing she can think to do.

[pleasetakethis]

all of ‘em for the rnm ask meme 🤭❤️

Yessss!!! Link to the original in case anyone else wants to reblog/play.

Who is your favourite Rick and Morty Character? This is like asking my favorite It's Always Sunny character... because I love them all for their terribleness. Probably Rick, though Rick wouldn't be nearly as compelling without Morty. Favorite side character would be Squanchyyyyy or Mr. Nimbus.

Which Beth is the clone: Domestic Beth or Space Beth? As a mom, I want to say Domestic Beth is the real one because a parent wouldn't leave their kids... except this is Beth Smith we're talking about, so I think Domestic Beth is the clone. I think our "scared little overachiever" pursued freedom when she knew her family had a fallback.

Do you think that Rick-C137 and Rick Prime were previously romantically involved? "Infinite shit happens." Yes, absolutely.

What do you think would be a good name for Birdperson and Tammy's daughter? Phoenixperson II aka PP aka Peepa (terrible The Office reference).

How many seasons do you think Rick and Morty will eventually have? No clue but I'm here for alllll of them.

Rick C-137: smash or pass? Smash.

Who is your favourite Rick and Morty villain? Evil Morty. I love that manipulative little asshole who found a way out.

Your favourite Rick and Morty episode? How do you pick just one ;_; For Rick's character development, I'd say Rickternal Friendshine of the Spotless Mort. Seeing Rick deal with his feelings for others always hits me hard because he spends so much time denying those feelings. For fun, I'd go with Mort Dinner Rick Andre because I love Mr. Nimbus and I also love seeing Jessica become more than just Morty's obsession.

Your least favourite Rick and Morty episode? One Crew over the Crewcoo's Morty (the popular choice seems to be Claw and Hoarder: Special Ricktim's Morty but I love the slut dragons--currently fostering four cats for a friend while said friend is moving, the youngest is female and going through her first heat, and I will randomly mimic the wizard when she's yowling: "You slut! Shame on you! Shame, you slut! You slutty, slutty slut!" I am giving her lots of lovings and she has a heating pad, though, so she's okay).

Who is your least favourite Rick and Morty character? Beth and Jerry without character development (pre-separation).

What is, in your opinion, the worst thing that Rick C-137 has ever done? Real answer: use his grandson the way he does (codependent, grooming, the list goes on and on). Fan answer: torn between taking Morty's memories and the "save a point in time device" from Vat of Acid.

Do you think that Rick and Morty will be affected substantially by having to change the voice actor for Rick and Morty and a bunch of other characters? Affected, yes. Substantially... I don't know but I'll give anything a shot, especially since Adult Swim did the right thing dropping JR. The cool thing about the show is that there are infinite (heh) ways they can address this, if they choose to address it at all, so I'm excited to see what happens next.

What's a good Rick and Morty blog? All the Rick and Morty peeps I follow are awesome! I hesitate to recommend anyone I don't interact with because DNIs pop up all the time based on stuff I saved in my drafts and later go to queue and have to delete because they have some hateful anti/TERF rhetoric going on, so check out my reblogs and likes to find my favorites. :D

Who is the Rick and Morty character that you relate to the most? This ties back in with IASIP. I don't really relate to any of them, I just enjoy them and their fucked up relationships and situations.

The funniest Rick and Morty bit/scene, in your opinion? This is the one that hooked me on the show, the moment I knew I was a goner for these assholes: Butter robot: What is my purpose? Rick: Pass the butter. (Butter robot passes butter) Rick: Thank you. […] Butter robot: What is my purpose? Rick: You pass butter. Butter robot: [looks at its hands] Oh my god. Rick: Yeah, welcome to the club, pal.

Best Rick and Morty season? My favorite so far has been season 6 (they did such a good job with character development, including Rick backsliding into his obsession with Prime--just chef's kiss).

Worst Rick and Morty season? I've enjoyed all of them so far for different reasons. Much like some of my other favorites (The Office, IASIP), I would say push through season 1 if you're unsure and wait until you get through season 2 before you make a decision about the show.

Would you stop watching the show if Justin Roiland returned? I don't know. Depends on whether a public statement was involved and how much responsibility he took for his actions (versus playing it off). I can't listen to Marilyn Manson anymore (because Brian Warner is an abusive POS) and that band was formative during my middle + high school years (almost as important to me as NIN and I would mourn that loss if Trent Reznor turned out to be trash). Roiland coming back might ruin the show for me.

Your favourite Rick and Morty quote? Hard to pick but right now it would be: "Nobody exists on purpose, nobody belongs anywhere, everybody's gonna die. Come watch TV." This gets me right in the feels because it's true. Life is short, probably meaningless, so might as well enjoy while we're here and have a chance... because this all ends.

If you had to be one member of the Smith family in the next season, who would you want to be? Ooo, I'd want to be Space Beth.

[byneddiedingo]

Judith Anderson and Joan Fontaine in Rebecca (Alfred Hitchcock, 1940) Cast: Joan Fontaine, Laurence Olivier, Judith Anderson, George Sanders, Reginald Denny, Nigel Bruce, C. Aubrey Smith, Gladys Cooper, Florence Bates, Melville Cooper, Leo G. Carroll. Screenplay: Robert E. Sherwood, Joan Harrison, Philip MacDonald, Michael Hogan, based on a novel by Daphne Du Maurier. Cinematography: George Barnes. Art direction: Lyle R. Wheeler, William Cameron Menzies. Music: Franz Waxman. Rebecca is a very good movie. Would it have been a better one if Alfred Hitchcock, directing his first American film, had been left alone by the producer, David O. Selznick, an incurable micromanager? That's the question that lingers, especially since Hitchcock later expressed some dissatisfaction with the film. It does mostly lack the director's sense of humor, except  in the scene in which the horrid Mrs. Van Hopper (Florence Bates) snuffs a cigarette in a jar of cold cream, a gag Hitchcock liked so much that he used it again 15 years later in To Catch a Thief, in which the substitute ashtray is a fried egg. The differences between Hitchcock and Selznick largely lay in the realm of editing, in which Selznick loved to dabble, insisting that scenes be shot from various camera angles to give him latitude in the editing room. Hitchcock was a famous storyboarder, working out scenes and planning camera setups well in advance of the actual shooting -- "editing in the camera," as it's usually called. The story would probably also have been very different in the Hitchcock version: According to one source, the original version suggested by Hitchcock began on shipboard, with various people being seasick. Selznick, however, liked to stick closely to the novels on which he based his films: The opening title, for example, refers to the movie as a "picturization" of Daphne Du Maurier's bestseller. (This was doubtless a comfort to Du Maurier, who hated Hitchcock's version of her novel Jamaica Inn (1939) -- but then so did Hitchcock, and both of them were right to do so.) The glory of Rebecca lies mostly in its performances. Although Laurence Olivier never makes Maxim de Winter a fully credible character -- I think he felt he was slumming, doing the film only to be near Vivien Leigh, and disgusted when Selznick didn't cast her as the second Mrs. de Winter -- he was always a watchable actor, even when he wasn't doing a great job of it. Joan Fontaine is almost perfect in her role, making credible the crucial character switch, when she stops being shy and stands up to Mrs. Danvers. And Hitchcock must have loved working with the gaggle of British character actors who had flocked to Hollywood and populate all the supporting roles.