#tom cruise expressions my best friend tom cruise expressions

[ethanhuntfemmefatale]

favorite part of tc's acting as barry seal is his nervous "this is going to be bad" eyes. bill cage also has them sometimes it's a delightful expression

[malavera]

Dad's Best Friend, pt. iv — Tom Cruise

↳ Tom Cruise is your Dad's Best friend. Your dad is a businessman in Hollywood, and he happens to be friends with your teenage year crush. You're legal now, what happens when you can finally live out your desires?

summary: Tom invites you to dinner with the intentions to catch up with you, but is that really all?

pairings: dbf!Tomcruise x female!reader

warnings: mature content, smut, oral m/receiving, unprotected sex, choking, spanking, creampie, praisekink, age gaps, the use of a word 'princess', daddykink. KEEP IN MIND THAT THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

w.c: 3608

tagging: @helloitstsyu @tomsf18 @moondustfairies @deanscroissant @elenavampire21 @gypsymoon548 @call-sign-shark @katherineswritingsblog @love2write2626

CHECK OUT THE SERIES

Shifting the gear to park before you turn off the ignition, you just had to release the loudest sigh ever. The palm of your hands collided to your face, rubbing off the tiredness and the excess oil from your skin. Your eyebrows scrunched together as you gave yourself a mental time out, What the hell did you do back there? You couldn't help but cringe when your brain takes you back to the actions that you just pulled.

"I just sucked my Dad's Best Friend's cock." You muttered to yourself.

Unconsciously biting your bottom lip, your eyes darted to the clock displayed in the monitor of your Benz that showed 6 PM. But, you're not done. You brought yourself back to think about the event that happened hours ago, Do you like it? From the way the corner of your lips tugged back into a small smile, your fingertips grazes across your lips, your tongue slightly poking out touching the flesh of your fingers, the memory suddenly flashes back to remind you of how empowered you felt back then when you were on your knees devouring his cock. You swallowed every bit like it's the last meal on earth.

You chuckled to yourself as you have decided, that you liked it and you would do it again in any given chance. Shaking out of your thoughts, you bring yourself back to reality as you hurried out of your car to get inside your house. You don't have much time where in fact it almost slipped out of your mind, Tom has invited you for a dinner alone with him. Just the two of you, no one else.

“I’d like to take you out to Dinner, tonight.”

He appeared from behind, dragging his fingertips against your delicate skin from your shoulder blades to the nape of your neck—ghosting a kiss. You smiled and chuckled watching him from the mirror, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Turning your whole body towards him, as he wrapped his arms around your waist instantly.

“M’yeah? Why not?” He tipped his chin up, a sly smile on his face. Cheeks slowly turned rosey, your lips quiver slightly attempting to suppress a big smile that’s dying to be expressed.

“Because, people might photograph you dining with your best friend’s daughter—without the best friend. Wouldn’t it be weird?”

“If that’s what you’re worried about, then I’ll cook.” Tom insisted with a shrug, you catch your tongue in between your teeth giving yourself a second to consider his proposition. He did said he wanted to spend more time with you right? Besides, you would never know when you could have another day off without worrying about your work.

You accepted his invitation. A kiss was left on your cheek before he left you alone inside the room, and as you drove back home and had a brief moment giving yourself time to think—that’s when you realize that you really are doing this, with him. He’s not a dream anymore, he’s real.

The weather became windy once you set your foot out against the pavements. Pushing yourself out from your car, you realize you hadn’t picked out what you wanted to wear for tonight. Sighing, fumbling with your keys you stopped yourself once you caught a glimpse of a big black box with a silver ribbon wrapped around it so beautifully. A note was attached to it as you bend down,

Wear this for tonight, I'll pick you up at 8.

I can't wait to see you, darling.

— T

A smile creeped on your face that you barely realize, pulling your attention away from the piece of paper before collecting the box. Sighing once you plop it down on your bed cushions, you unwrap the box to reveal a black dress. Grabbing them by the strings as you lift them up, it’s a simple black dress with a fabric that feels so soft. The dress is backless, and the body of the dress is ruffled on each sides—it’s the ones that would follow the shape of your body. You bring them against your chest, facing your full length mirror to find out it ends on your mid thighs.

Laughing to yourself as you thought, very cheeky of him. You realize you won’t get much time to get ready when you give another glance towards the clock on the wall. Throwing the dress away to your bed, you hurried off towards your bathroom to turn on the shower and let the water stream for a while to get it hot. Hands went to gather your hair as you put them into a ponytail and start cleaning your face with a cotton pad soaked in micellar water. Taking your sweet time, you realize you’ve been neglecting something that should’ve been thought of.

Why is he on board with this?

Why is he welcoming this whole thing as if he’s got nothing to worry about? As if his life is not on the line? Hypothetically, his life is not on the line—you’re a grown woman. Though, you are aware that if this thing gets out to the world, everyone might find it weird because the man technically was like a second father to you. Everybody, knows your Dad. He’s a successful producer in Hollywood, he’s good friends with everyone in the business. Not to mention, you are also quite famous yourself with your Beauty brand being successful across the United States, there’s no way escaping this. If you’re really going to do this with him, discreet is not even the word anymore, but you and Tom really have to restrain yourselves from each other.

Running your hands down to your sides feeling the soft velvet fabric of the dress, smiling to yourself as you thought damn, not only I looked good in this dress but the man knows a great one. The final touch was to choose a color for your lips. You eventually decided to go with a red one, and just on time, your doorbell rung. Your heart skipped a beat as you shut the cap to your Chanel Lipstick and grabbing your purse. Giving yourself one final look in the mirror, fixing your hair a little bit.

When the door swung open, the sight of you in the black dress that he personally handpicked, took his breath away. He took a good minute to admire your appearance tonight—your Make-Up’s done in a bold yet subtle look, your layered long hair sits perfectly on your toned shoulder, and of course he noticed the red lipstick that he’s never seen you wearing one. His eyes stares at your lips, unconsciously his tongue poking out swiping against his bottom lip. All of a sudden he forgot what he was here for, he yearns to have that red lips wrapped around his thick cock and watch your eyes bloodshot with tears as you gag on them.

A small chuckle he lets go of to break away the tension. “You look beautiful.” He complimented.

Your cheeks tinted slightly rosey, a blush had crept in from the compliment. “Your choice.”

“Yes, my choice indeed.” And he meant it as a compliment.

“Shall we?”

The ride towards his house wasn’t what you expected. You’d expect it will fill with awkward tension, but in all honesty, it’s just you. You thought it was going to be embarrassing considering that you just sucked his cock literally a couple of hours ago, of course nobody would expect anyone to be well this—his left hand on the steering wheel the other is on your thigh. His thumb rubbing circles while he listens to an 80’s pop song on the radio.

He was being fun.

And he proved to be right, he did cooked. Once you got inside, you were greeted by a very beautifully decorated table. “It’s not much but I remember how you used to love my Spaghetti.” He stated, lifting the lid from the medium-sized bowl to reveal his famous Spaghetti Meatballs that he used to make for when he joins your family night.

You turn to him with a bright smile on your face, as you kiss him on the cheek. “I never stopped loving your Spaghetti, in fact I asked my assistant not long ago to look up how would you cook ‘em. Because, I was craving one.” You gushed. This time, a bright smile displayed on his face.

"Well come on, dig in." He helped you pull your chair before you settle down and wait for him to serve you your plate.

"So," He started as he poured you a glass of wine. "How was school?" Your shoulders slumped as you looked at him with a really? you're joking right? kind of face as he laughs before he goes towards his seat.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He put his hands up mocking a surrender, before sitting down on his seat.

"Have a bite." He gestured.

Twirling the pasta on your fork, you lift it right in front of your mouth as you watch him, waiting for some kind of response. He nodded his head for you to proceed. Your mouth went agape as you feast on your meal. Your heart flutters in your chest once you tasted the perfectly cooked pasta. A content sigh with your eyes closed, your head slightly tilted back while munching on the food. That familiar warm feeling creeps into your body once you digest the meal down in your stomach. It feels like home to you, and you don't know whether you should be happy, sad, or scared.

Tom smiled, receiving your reaction. "I still got it then." He muttered to himself.

The dinner was filled with small talks, Tom did try to create a conversation but watching you feast on your meal is more to what he imagined the whole dinner would be. "You did have food all this time you're living alone all by yourself, right Y/N?" He cracked a joke as you laughs and cover your mouth.

"I'm sorry, it's just- It taste so good I almost forgot how it taste like." You explained yourself, grabbing your glass of wine.

"How's everything after the release of Top Gun? Are you still living the moment, or you're ready to wrap it up and focus on your next big movie project?" You opened up a topic.

"I do still live in the moment of it as well as working on my next Mission Impossible." Tom answered with a smile. "But, I don't wanna talk about work." He stated.

"I wanna talk about you."

You halted your movements that were about to grab another bite, your eyes peered up to meet his as you decided not to have another bite. Reaching for a napkin from your lap, you gently dab your lips with it.

A smile slowly formed on your face, "What do you want to talk about?" You challenged, grabbing your wine.

"I wanna know what we did back there, is not the last time that I could feel you." Tom didn't waste no time as he points out his desire.

Your breath gently exhaled from your parted lips, your eyes never leaving his as you place your napkin that were on your lap on to the table. You stood up, the foot of the chair dragged against the floor. Hand holding your glass as you walk towards him, your lips meeting the tip of your glass before you take a small gulp, only to leave the room and make your way towards his living room. Tom had expected that you were making your way to sit on his lap, but he was wrong. He softly chuckled to himself before wiping his mouth with the napkin and grab his glass.

He leaned against the wall, watching you browse through his bookshelf. Your delicate fingertips drag across all kinds of books. Turning away from the bookshelf to find him with his eyes already set on your frame. You stared back at him while sipping on your wine while sitting down on his leather couch.

"Why do you ask?"

Tom's lips parted, a small smirk on his face. "Well, maybe because I liked it." He pushed himself off from leaning against the wall, making his way to sit beside you.

"Yeah? What do you like about it?" You inched closer to him.

"I liked how we both know, that there's something more to it. Something more than that. Something that I know, that you're gonna be the death of me." Tom softly spoke, as he placed his glass on the coffee table before caressing your knee.

"Please do, enlighten me." You urged.

A mischievous smirk now appeared on his face, "Your mouth on my cock, nearly gotten me a cardiac arrest. But, your pussy.." He trailed, his fingertips dragged from your knee up to your thighs. "Your pussy would send me straight to meet my creators."

Your lips quirked before you place your glass down. "Well," You started, adjusting your dress to your hips as Tom watch you straddle his lap. His hands instantly went flying to your hips.

"I hope you've done enough prayers for your sins, Sir."

"I'm about to create more, Princess."

Without wasting any time, you felt his hands snaked around your neck to reach your nape, closing the gap by connecting his soft lips against yours. You've experienced an unfamiliar feeling through your whole body, your brain, you like the way his lips feel against yours. You like the way he's very skillful with his tongue, swiping against your bottom lip asking for entrance which you granted. Your hips started to move on its own, feeling his growing tent underneath your panties. Tom broke the kiss to switch from your lips to your neck, tilting your head back to give him more access, your hips never stop grinding on his lap.

"Tell me, Princess, do you want this?" Tom muttered against your warm flesh before pulling his face away from your neck, one hand reach for your throat as you throw your head back with a moan. Tom looked down and watch the way you move your hips, his lips pursed suppressing a grunt as he feel could feel his cock getting fully erect where he needs to free 'em.

"Mmh.." You hummed, Tom pulled you closer.

"Is this just like one of your dreams?" Tom whispered, a smirk on his face.

"I bet you always dream about me, yeah?" He added.

"Answer me, pretty girl. Do you really wanna do this, huh?" As he added more pressure around your throat, you snapped your eyes open choking out a gasp as you tried to nod vigorously.

"I need words, Princess."

"Yes.. Yes, Daddy. I want this. I want you." You mewled, fully melted in his arms.

"Well, have at it then. Show, Daddy how much you want him." Tom released his grip on your throat, adjusting himself as he unbuttoned his blue blazer. You halted your movements as you watch him undoing his belt and leave it there for you to proceed. Your brain didn't have the time to consider whether this is a good thing or a bad one, all you could think about is how does his cock feel inside your tight cunt.

Hurrying yourself off from his lap, you stand on your knees to undo his pants. Pulling them off to pool on his feet along with his boxers letting his cock sprung free, standing in full pride. You lick your lips as your minds yearns to feel him. But, being a good girl you are, you still stand on your knees. Your hands went to reach for his cock, giving him a pump, before you decided to put him in your mouth.

Tom sighed in relief, his hands on top of your head, caressing your soft hair. "Thaat's it... That's a good girl." He praised, your thighs clenched against each other as you could feel yourself wrecking your own panties.

You made sure to suck his cock sloppy, you learned how he likes it dirty. You spit and played with his balls, giving him a good blow before you decided to stop and to give your pussy a turn. You let him out with a pop, gasping for air, wiping the mess from your saliva on your chin. You straddled him back and grab his hand, aiming it towards your soaked panties.

"You feel how wet I am, Daddy?" Tom groaned once he felt how wet you are with his fingertips as they instantly rubs your soaked pussy.

"Can my pussy suck your cock, Daddy?"

Tom rolled his eyes back and throwing his head, "Yes, Princess. Give it to me."

No need to add more lubrication as your pussy is already soaking wet, he helped you ripped your panties off, pulling it away from your hips before tossing it somewhere in the room. You watched how his eyes darkened, you could feel his breathing erratically, anticipating your next move. You hunched your dress up to your hips as you aim his throbbing cock against your entrance before you sink down to his cock.

Gasping, your hands on his shoulders to support yourself. Tom received your whole reaction, it is something that he wished he had a camera with him just so he could rewind it all over again. You feel so good, your pussy welcoming his pulsating cock engulfed with tightness. Tom had to grip your hips to stop himself not to take matters into his own hands as he wants you to hold the reigns.

Your lips tremble as you take your time adjusting to the size of his cock, he's not long, but he is so thick. But, that's just how you like it. "Princess, can you please move?" Tom grumbled underneath his breath.

You bit your lips and nod your head, your knees digging against the couch to support you as you slowly went up and down on his shaft. You moan as euphoria has entered your whole body. You liked how his cock hits the right spot, a rapacious feeling suddenly appeared inside your body. You wanted more, your pussy wants more. Your pace fastened, his grip hardened. Tom's mouth went agape, watching you bounce up and down on his cock, moaning. His hands went to reach your top to release your tits, a hand went to your toned back, gently pushing your chest closer to his mouth as he wants to capture one of your nipples.

His eyes screwed shut, feeling the way you fuck yourself to his cock. His lips sucking on your nipples, tongue swaying and dancing to give a tingling friction down through your whole body.

"Ah! Daddy.. Daddy.. Daddy!" You chanted.

Tom gave your nipple a slight graze with his teeth, "Yeah, baby? You like calling me Daddy, huh? Keep going, Princess. I am your Daddy." Tom hissed, one of his hands went to spank your ass. You whimpered, receiving his dirty talks.

"Look at you, such a good girl for me. Your pussy feels so good around me, baby." Tom coaxed you even more.

"Thaat's itt... Just like that baby. Come on, faster. Make a mess on my cock. I know you want to, I know you've been dreaming about this." You gasped, your hips snapped faster grinding then bouncing on his cock like your whole life depends on it. Your main focus is to make yourself cum, you wanna feel yourself make a mess all over his cock.

"Ngh! Daddy... I'm close." You yelped, gripping his shoulders hard.

"I know, Baby. Come on, be a good girl, and cum on my cock." Tom panted, watching the way your face scrunched reaching your orgasm.

"Daddy, Daddy, I'm coming!" You moan loudly, as your ground your hips down on his cock, feeling yourself orgasmed. Thighs shaking, body trembling. Tom groaned as he could feel your spilled release on his cock.

"Daddy's turn now baby." He whispered against your lips before he helps you adjust by having you lean forward against his chest. You hugged his shoulders and gasped once you feel him drilled his throbbing cock in your pussy.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" You cursed, gripping his hair.

Tom moaned to the feeling, from the way you grip his hair almost pulling them out from the roots, your pussy warm and tight as ever milking his cock.

"Taking this cock like a good girl." He panted in your ear as you moaned.

"Yeah that's right, pussy made for me. Only my cock could get to cum in this fucking tight cunt." His dirty talk is to boost his ego, and being a good girl that you are, you give it to him.

"Mmhm.. Daddy. Only for you," You gasped in his ear. You rolled out your tongue to glaze it against his skin. "Pussy made for your cock. Your big, fat, cock." You whimpered.

"Urgh! Fuck, I'm coming baby." He grunted, his hips snapping upwards.

"Come in me, Daddy. I want your cum inside me." You mewled.

Tom moaned, gripping your hair before he stilled his hips to shoot his release. He gave one and two last thrust to ride out his orgasm, milking out his cum.

"Oh, fuck." He cursed.

You gasped as you can feel his cum leaking out of your pussy down to your thighs. Pulling yourself away from him to look down in between you both, you giggled at the mess you both made. Tom breathlessly chuckled, as he caress your cheeks.

"Is this what you dreamed of, baby?"

[bo0tleg]

MY FRIENDS REACTION TO THE TOP GUN (1986) REACTION POST

In case you don't know what I'm talking about: I made a post a while ago of gems my friend said whilst watching Top Gun (1986) for the first time. I showed her the post, and she created even more gems about Top Gun derived from what she said originally! I'd suggest you read the other post, because some are references to prior gems. Enjoy!

"TOM CRUISE IS OLD, HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHAT HE LOOKS LIKE?"

"I said that? Jesus, I have the memory of a fish." (About: "Did he really need to be in his underwear for this conversation?")

"I DID COMMENT ON THE VOLLEYBALL SCENE!" "I distinctly remember laughing about you not saying anything." "I said 'Ah yes, the hetero scene that actually looks really gay.' Because it does. How the fuck are you gonna play sports looking like a hot piece of ass without looking gay? You're not supposed to be hot! Especially in volleyball. Why did they choose volleyball to make them look hot? You're supposed to slap that fucking ball, not be like 'hahaha look at me, I'm so dainty and pretty.' THAT'S GAY!"

"I'm only stating the obvious, these people should already know this."

"Iceman is the gayest in the entire movie."

"No! Actually, it's his plane buddy. His plane buddy is the gayest." "... Mind telling me why?" "He always says that he has a hard on."

"OH MY GOD THEY COULD BE EXES! It's not possible he always has a hard on. I KNOW IT'S AN EXPRESSION IN THE UNITED STATES BUT IT'S NOT POSSIBLE. They've definitely hooked up. Not in the movie, I think it was before he met Maverick, but there's no doubt."

"You wouldn't say that you have a hard on to just anyone."

"And I didn't even look anything up, I just watched the movie."

"I don't think it's possible to surpass the gayness in Top Gun."

(Upon being informed that Slider was not, in fact, the one with the hard on) "HE'S NOT? Oh, then it has nothing to do with Iceman. But I still think that they (Hollywolf) had something, that's the dynamic that I got the gay vibe from."

"I bet both of the actors are blond, or whatever." (shakes head) "I don't give a shit."

"It's not my fault the NPC's look like the protagonist!"

(Scrolling through the Icemav tag on tumblr) "There's a lot of fanart. A lot of fanart of them making out."

"Only the superiors aren't gay in this movie."

"Making out in a corner, having a fling with the best friend, there's definitely one of those somewhere in the middle."

"Oh look! More fanart of them making out."

"Even the handsome guy that seems like a protagonist but is actually an NPC looks gay! He has that gay vibe, I don't know." (Reminder: This a reference to the phrase "He's to handsome to be a rando!" This man had like 2 minutes of screen time on the Enterprise at the start of the movie, and a little at the end during the Layton Rescue. 2 min might be an exaggeration.)

BONUS: Reaction to Quentin Tarantino discussing Top Gun in "Sleep With Me" (1994)

(Silence for 30 seconds) "I... agree with everything he said... but I'm in shock."

I never... thought a straight man would say so much gay shit in three minutes.... but he's right."

"That part where he says about the girl, Maverick's chick, dressing up like a guy, I hadn't noticed. He's a genius."

"When he says 'STARFIGHT! STARFIGHT!' I don't know if he was crazy, high or hallucinating."

"Them screaming 'STARFIGHT! STARFIGHT!' looked like they were on crack. And they were just talking about a movie."

"If a military movie ever happens to be openly gay, it'll become a whore house."

"And the worst part is that he convinced the dude! My guy just watched Top Gun for fun..."

EXTRAS (The original language all of the phrases were said in was Portuguese. I had to translate all of them. You're welcome.):

"How am I going to translate 'Puteiro'?" "Aren't there any prostitutes in the United States?" (I went with "Whore House")

"How am I going to translate 'se pegaram'?" "There's a word for it in English, I forgot it.... eeeehhhh" "Hooked up?" "I meant to say that they fucked, but sure." "'Hooked up' can mean sex." "It can? Great, use that then!"

"How many phrases are there? I'm scared. I don't remember the atrocities I said."

My friend, who fueled this entire post: @annonimouslesbian

[houseofbrat]

Timeline of events, Part 1

22 DECEMBER 2023: Rebecca English and Camilla Tominey & Hannah Furness post stories regarding Will & Kate making an official visit to Italy but won’t visit the Pope.

25 DECEMBER 2023: Kate attends the Christmas Day service in Sandringham with the BRF, including George, Charlotte, & Louis.

28 DECEMBER 2023: Convoy spotted heading in the direction of King Edward VII's hospital at 20:30 on twitter.

29 DECEMBER 2023: Kensington Palace posts 2023 montage on instagram and twitter.

09 JANUARY 2024: Buckingham Palace posts tweet wishing Kate a Happy Birthday.

William uses Kensington Palace twitter to acknowledge the passing of JPR Williams.

10 JANUARY 2024: Russell Myers has an “exclusive” regarding Will & Kate’s military trip to Europe in February 2024.

11 JANUARY 2024: William travels to hand out CBEs to Rob Burrow and Kevin Sinfield.

16 JANUARY 2024: Kate is (allegedly) admitted to The London Clinic on this day.

17 JANUARY 2024: KP announces Kate had successful “planned abdominal surgery” the day prior.

Buckingham Palace announces King Charles will be treated for a “benign prostate condition.”

18 JANUARY 2024: William is photographed leaving The London Clinic.

20 JANUARY 2024: Spanish journalist Concha Calleja says that Kate was hospitalized on 28 December 2023.

Roya Nikkhah reported that Kate’s 30 charities & patronages were not notified until one week before her surgery regarding future engagements.

24 JANUARY 2024: People magazine: “Within their broader circle of family friends, there had been no indication that anything was wrong, and the carefully guarded news about Kate’s situation came as a surprise even to those who work closely with the royal family, PEOPLE understands.”

The Mirror published a story saying “The Princess of Wales "could be your best friend one minute” and “your worst enemy” the next, according to a royal expert.“

Later changed to be a story about Prince Harry.

25 JANUARY 2024: Matt Wilkinson & Harry Goodwin of The Sun report that William has visited Kate in the hospital every day while George, Charlotte, & Louis see their mom, Kate, via FaceTime.

26 JANUARY 2024: King Charles visited Kate while she was in The London Clinic after he was admitted for his BPH procedure. Queen Camilla visits The King in the hospital.

27 JANUARY 2024: Queen Camilla photographed visiting King Charles at The London Clinic.

28 JANUARY 2024: Queen Camilla photographed visiting King Charles at The London Clinic.

Spanish journalist Concha Calleja says Kate is in a coma.

29 JANUARY 2024: Kate leaves The London Clinic but is not photographed leaving. William is not photographed at The London Clinic. Kate’s personal assistant is photographed driving away from The London Clinic with a large bouquet in the passenger’s seat.

Statement issued by Kensington Palace.

King Charles is discharged from The London Clinic.

01 FEBRUARY 2024: Kate Mansey & Simon Hunter of The Times report that an unnamed Kensington Palace spokesperson deny Concha Calleja’s claim that Kate is in a coma.

02 FEBRUARY 2024: Concha Calleja stands by her "coma” story.

05 FEBRUARY 2024: Buckingham Palace announces that King Charles has cancer, the specific diagnosis has not been revealed as of today.

James Sweetnam & Matt Jackson of Express quote an “expert” that says Kate could take up to nine months to recover.

06 FEBRUARY 2024: King Charles & Queen Camilla photographed leaving Clarence House.

07 FEBRUARY 2024: Prince Harry flies to UK to see King Charles.

James Middleton shares a video of his family in the Alps on instagram.

Prince William does his first engagement, an investiture, since Kate’s announced hospitalization.

William attends the London Air Ambulance Charity gala with Tom Cruise. “I’d like to take this opportunity to say thank you, also, for the kind messages of support for Catherine and for my father, especially in recent days. It means a great deal to us all.”

09 FEBRUARY 2024: Richard Eden reports Will & Kate and kids travel to Anmer Hall in Sandringham for half-term break.

10 FEBRUARY 2024: Buckingham Palace posts a thank-you message from King Charles.

11 FEBRUARY 2024: King Charles & Queen Camilla are photographed attending church in Sandringham. No photos of Will, Kate, or their children attending church.

13 FEBRUARY 2024: Photos of Pippa (Middleton) Matthews vacationing with her husband, James, and children in St. Barts hit the Daily Mail.

King Charles & Queen Camilla arrive back in London at Clarence House.

16 FEBRUARY 2024: Writer Gareth Russell posts on Facebook that Kate has been seen outside at Sandringham, and no one took a picture.

17 FEBRUARY 2024: Richard Eden on twitter regarding school visit by Will & Kate with George.

18 FEBRUARY 2024: King Charles & Queen Camilla attend church in Sandringham.

Prince William attends the BAFTAs.

19 FEBRUARY 2024: School begins again at Lambrook for George, Charlotte, and Louis.

20 FEBRUARY 2024: William, The Prince of Wales, releases a statement regarding Gaza and the Middle East.

21 FEBRUARY 2024: King Charles meets with Prime Minister Rishi Sunak at Buckingham Palace.

Photo exclusive of Pippa and her children in St Barts for the Daily Mail.

23 FEBRUARY 2024: Video of King Charles reading get-well cards from well wishers released.

27 FEBRUARY 2024: William pulls out of King Constantine II of Greece’s service of thanksgiving at Windsor.

Buckingham Palace announces the death of Thomas Kingston, husband of Lady Gabriella Windsor. William’s absence was not related.

28 FEBRUARY 2024: A Kensington Palace spokesperson addresses the “wild conspiracy theories” about Kate in a statement to The Sun: “We were very clear from the outset that the Princess of Wales was out until after Easter and Kensington Palace would only be providing updates when something was significant.”

29 FEBRUARY 2024: Page Six: Kate Middleton’s team is speaking out in light of the conspiracy theories swirling about the Princess of Wales’ whereabouts following her abdominal surgery in January.

“Kensington Palace made it clear in January the timelines of the princess’ recovery and we’d only be providing significant updates,” her rep tells Page Six exclusively. “That guidance stands.”

The flak reiterates that Middleton, 42, is “doing well.”

ET Online: Earlier this week when it was revealed William would be missing his godfather’s memorial service, the Palace told ET that Kate, who underwent abdominal surgery in January, continues to be “doing well.” But with the speculation only intensifying, the Palace released another statement to ET on Thursday.  

“We gave guidance two days ago that the Princess of Wales continues to be doing well,” the statement reads. “As we have been clear since our initial statement in January, we shall not be providing a running commentary or providing daily updates.”

Tom Sykes of The Daily Beast: A former royal staffer who still has friends and contacts inside the palace said, “Anyone who expects the palace to suddenly start giving lengthy updates on Kate will be disappointed. The principal aim of her being sequestered is to guard her privacy. I’m sure the press hate it because it is working. There is a really, really small bubble of people who know exactly what is going on.”

Prince William visited a central London synagogue, where Kate had been scheduled to visit on Holocaust Remembrance Day (27 Jan 2024).

Jan Moir on Prince William: One day soon he will be the head of the nation, a focus for national identity, unity and pride. So maybe he should stop behaving like a celebrity flake and reign in that impervious attitude along with his indulgent fondness for obsessive secrecy. If this is a sign of what is to come when he ascends the throne, it is very worrying one.

Tom Bower says Kate’s condition is more serious than has been reported previously.

(update from previous timeline here)

[magicshopaholic]

Chingu (Taehyung x OC)

Summary: Dilara's best friend stops by for a night, and he and Taehyung have some choice words for each other.

Pairing: Taehyung x OC

Genre: Angst

Word count: 8.6 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: LANGUAGE (Chris Park is here, people), heartbreak, anxiety, infidelity, a very small description of smut

A/N: One of my favourite relationships finally being introduced in depth. This fic takes place around a week after Baby, It's Cold Outside.

Tagging: @bbl32 @quarter-life-crisis2 @meirkive @dreaming-with-happiness @ananya1398 @kflixnet (drop a message if you want to be added)

Listen to: "something pretty“ by patrick park

taehyung masterlist | main masterlist

Austria this time of year is better than freezing Germany, especially when everyone arrives for the Styrian GP this time to an unseasonably warm circuit in Spielberg. Dilara hasn’t got a motorhome of her own this time either; she and the rest of the group end up staying at the same house they stayed in for the Austrian GP. Strangely enough, she’s dreading it far less than she was the last time, especially since there’s no PR planned this time around. Plus, since it’s a Red Bull track - the Red Bull track - the team is in high spirits for a good race.

The best part about this weekend, though, for Dilara, is that Chris Park has made it down here for the weekend. He can’t stay for the actual race, which is a pity, but he’s needed back in London by Saturday afternoon for a workshop he’s doing with Fred, and Dilara chooses to humbly count her blessings that at least one of her friends is finally here. 

He arrives on Thursday; she perks up when she hears a motor screeching outside, followed by a very Chris text: Where are you? No need to pretty yourself up for me, Komyshan. 

Too happy to be annoyed, Dilara skips out in jeans, an oversized jumper and boots, bag in one hand and phone in the other. She throws the front door open to the gorgeous winter sun to see Chris in a brown jacket and jeans, leaning against a motorcycle and wearing Aviators that would look ridiculous on anyone but him and Tom Cruise, while he chats with Seokjin, Jungkook and - her heart skips a beat - Taehyung. The latter isn’t really talking, she notices; just standing a little behind the other two members as they make small talk with Chris.

Taehyung is the first to spot her; her stomach does a backflip when his eyes light up and a hint of a smile graces his beautiful features. Right at that moment, though, Chris spots her and his grin widens. Taking off his shades, he holds his arms open and yells “What’s up, Komyshan?” as she runs up to him.

“You’re actually here!” she exclaims, jumping up and hugging him tight, feeling her feet leave the ground as he straightens his tall frame. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy to see you, Park,” she remarks when he sets her down.

“I’ll give it an hour,” he says generously, ruffling her hair as he turns to face the others. “She’s all talk; she can’t really stand me after a while,” he explains to them.

“Sexy jacket, Dilara,” remarks Jungkook, winking.

Dilara chuckles, pretending not to notice how Taehyung frowns and lightly slaps his arm. “Thanks. Learning from Jimin, are we?”

He grins. “No, I just have the same one.”

“I’ll have her home in time for dinner,” says Chris mock-seriously to all of them before bowing slightly. When he catches sight of her amused expression, he shrugs. “What? It’s just respectful to your housemates.”

Already bracing herself for an entire afternoon of this, Dilara rolls her eyes and turns away, her gaze falling on Taehyung. He’s still standing behind the others, looking at her with a strange expression on his face, like nostalgia and something else. 

All three members step back when Chris straddles the bike and she climbs on behind him, sliding her small backpack on.

“Alright, see you in a bit,” calls Chris jovially in Korean, slipping his shades on and backing up the bike.

“Be careful.” Taehyung’s voice unexpectedly cuts through, deep and sudden, and Dilara turns to see him wincing and looking away, as though cursing himself for saying anything.

For some reason, she doesn’t want him to feel embarrassed, not for saying something like that. When he hesitantly looks back at her, she nods. "Yeah," she mutters, before swallowing and placing her hands on Chris's shoulders as they zoom away.

They drive nearly thirty minutes to the outskirts of Salzburg where they find a pub - the first one she’s seen in what feels like forever. They order beers and schnitzel and, enjoying the blues music playing at an appropriate volume, catch up after months.

"You know it's only been like six weeks, right?" he points out. "We saw each other in New York the night before you flew out to Spa."

"That was just one night, though. And it doesn't count," she adds, sipping her beer, "because we were there for Lex, not to catch up."

"True. You were there for the hard part, though, during the surgery," he tells her, reaching for a fry. "Her mom was out of the woods by the time I got there."

"No way," she disagrees. "That time would've been even worse. Her mom was okay but that was when Lex had to deal with all the insurance stuff and the physio and everything. She seemed exhausted."

“Yeah, she was.” Chris sips on his drink quietly for a minute, frowning out the window. “She’s tough, though,” he murmurs, still looking outside, before swallowing and placing his drink on the table, looking up at Dilara. “She’ll be fine.”

She observes him, not fooled. “Something you want to talk about?”

“Not really.”

“Sure? Not everything you say will get back to Lexie.”

“Gee, that’s comforting.”

Dilara cracks a smile, still not swayed. “I’m serious. How is she?”

Chris frowns. “What do you mean? Don’t you talk to her?”

“Of course I do. But she’s my friend. What she tells me wouldn’t be exactly what she tells you.”

“I’m her friend, too.”

“I didn’t have sex with her, though.”

“Minor technicalities.”

“You can avoid this all you want, but don’t expect me to believe that anything about you two is minor.”

Chris glares at her. “Do we have to talk about this?”

Dilara raises her eyebrows and shrugs. “No. Actually, yeah,” she says after a moment. “Why not? I’m not going to judge you, you know? This isn’t a test.”

He pokes his tongue into his cheek and looks away, looking annoyed. “You know I’m not good at this,” he states in a low voice.

She perks up, though she tries not to show it. “Good at what?”

“This stuff. Dealing with feelings and doing the right thing and following all these - these dating rules. And she’s going through a hard time,” he adds, looking down. “She doesn’t need some fuckboy coming into her life and making it worse.”

“First of all, admitting you’re a fuckboy just goes to show that you aren’t one. Or at least, not anymore,” she amends. “And… you know I love you, but that’s such a fucking cop out answer.” It seems for a second as though he’s about to snap at her, but all he does is scoff and look out the window again. 

Dilara tries again. “I’m not saying you need to ask her out right now. Or ever, really. I’m just asking…” She shrugs and sighs, “I dunno. I guess I’m just looking out for her. We both know how she feels about you.”

Chris doesn’t deny it. “I don’t want to fuck around with her either, you know. I know I won’t be good for her. Isn’t it a good thing that I know this?”

“Maybe. But she doesn’t know it. And I don’t even think that’s the real reason. Even fuckboys can become… not-fuckboys,” she points out.

He rolls his eyes. “It won’t work. She’s too…” He exhales, shaking his head “... good, I guess. And we’re friends, man, I… it’ll screw up the whole group. She’s your trainer - won’t it be the worst for you?”

She considers it. “It might be awkward,” she admits, trying not to think about how much awkwardness she’s already dealing with on a daily basis, “but I trust both of you to be adults about it.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Really? Are you and Taehyung being adults about it?”

Dilara gapes, wondering how he zeroed in on exactly what she was thinking. “I - this is not about me.” When he smirks knowingly, she sighs in annoyance. “V and I are… we’re working around it. We’re… there’s a system… of sorts,” she rambles pathetically. She looks up from her schnitzel to see Chris looking at her with exaggerated wonder.

“I’m sorry, what did you call him?” he asks, chuckling in disbelief. “What happened to Tae?”

“He fucked a skinny idol, so now I call him by the name the rest of the world does,” she snaps.

“You call him V to his face?”

“I don’t talk to him if I can help it,” she says shortly, leaning back as the waitress sets the rest of their food in front of them. “But… I call him Kim to his face, if you must know.”

Chris snorts, shaking his head. “Shit. That’s got to be hard, though,” he allows. “How are you dealing with all of it?”

“Nice segue, but we’re coming back to you and Lexie after this.” Dilara waits for him to silently grin, before taking a deep breath. “I’m… I dunno, I’m taking it one day at a time. While counting down the days until this ends, of course.”

“Really?” He frowns, swallowing a fry whole. “What was “be careful” about, then?”

“That was…” She groans, so frustrated at how complicated this is. “I don’t know. He’s trying to be nice, I guess? But I don’t trust him and I can barely look at him without becoming a goddamn mess and after Max abandoned me in a fan’s wet dream?” She shrugs sarcastically. “I really didn’t have a choice but to start becoming cordial with them.”

“That’s what I thought,” agrees Chris, nodding. “I mean, I’m guessing the older guys would be normal, no? And Namjoon and Hoseok?” he asks, pronouncing their names exactly right.

“Yeah, they’re fine,” she mutters dismissively. “So are Jimin and Jungkook, too, actually. Jungkook’s my only workout buddy now and since friends are in short supply for me right now,” she says deliberately, pushing his shoulder, “I need to swallow my pride and take what I can get. Plus, I spend whatever time I can on the paddock, so…”

“And Taehyung?” he presses.

She swallows. “What about him? I told him to leave me alone and… he kind of is.”

“Kind of, clearly.”

“Yeah, well. Depends on the situation. Sometimes it almost feels like old times, just a bit.” She’s quiet for a moment. “And then I remember how he fucked me over and it all disappears.” She shakes her head and exhales. “You know what? If you don’t think it’ll work out with Lex, I believe you. I was sure it wouldn’t work out for us and I was right, wasn't I?”

Chris gives her a moment, looking at her with a mixture of sympathy and anger, and she has a feeling he’s recalling the first half of the season. “I kind of can’t believe you actually ended up living with them,” he says after a moment. “I mean, what are the chances?”

“I know, right?” She slowly swallows a fry. “The good thing is there actually does seem to be money coming in because the car is fantastic,” she says honestly. “I mean, I don’t know what I was hoping for in Nurburgring but that straight line speed?” She shakes her head as Chris mirrors her reaction. “Red Bull already has amazing downforce but that was a hell of a surprise.”

“Oh, it was incredible,” he agrees. “Think they’ll do the same thing this time? Or was it like a one time thing?”

“I don’t know for sure but I think one of us is getting a new power unit this time,” she confesses. “It’ll most likely be me so I’m not even all that worried about Qualifying. Austria’s a good track in general, though,” she adds, shrugging. “I’m sure I’ll make it to the top six at least.”

Chris grins proudly. “Love the confidence,” he says sincerely. “Does that mean you’re okay drinking tomorrow night?” he asks cheekily.

Dilara laughs. “I can’t get drunk, but, yeah, why not? I haven’t had a drink in ages.”

He claps his hands. “It’s a date.”

As it turns out, it’s not a date. They return back to the pub the next day after FP, only to find it about to close down because of dark, angry rain clouds hovering low in the sky.

“You can order if you like,” the red haired gentleman across the bar says. “Last order, for a Red Bull driver.”

Dilara grins and blushes, letting Chris take the lead and order while she takes a couple of selfies with the owner and a few of the staff members. “Oh, do you think we should take food for your housemates?” Chris asks suddenly.

“Oh.” It hadn’t occurred to her but now that Chris says it, she knows they should. Annoyingly enough, they would do the same for her. Have done the same for her, she remembers. 

“Um, maybe. Let me check.” She pulls out her phone to text Seokjin, since she knows it’s either he or Yoongi who will give her the straightest answer. As she shifts from one foot to another, trying to word the perfect text, Chris just sighs in impatience and snatches the phone from her.

To her horror, he straight up calls him. “Hyung? It’s Chanyeol,” he begins, followed by an intense sounding discussion in Korean. If she has to guess, Jin is asking the others for their opinions and by the way Chris is rattling off an order to the owner, she knows they’re taking it incredibly seriously, as expected.

Midway during the call, Chris sighs and turns to her. “Your boyfriend’s asking if he’s included as well because, quote, he doesn’t want you to feel obligated to get him anything.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” says Dilara forcefully, rolling her eyes at Taehyung’s dramatics, “and tell him he is included, but I’m happy to let him starve if he wants.”

Chris chortles and says something into the phone in Korean, and she hears Jin’s cackle in the background. Once the call is wrapped up, the food is packed, she’s taken at least ten pictures and tipped the pub a hundred euros, they run outside to Chris’s motorcycle just as a rumble of thunder booms through the sky.

They make it back to the house just as the rain starts and hurry inside to see Yoongi, Hoseok and Jimin and Jungkook in the living room and kitchen area, already in tracks and hoodies, looking way warmer than she feels. The moment he sees them, Jungkook follows them to the kitchen like a puppy, diving for the food and inspecting it as soon as they set it down.

“Where are the others?” Dilara asks nonchalantly, reaching for a bottle of water as the older members file in at a more respectable pace. 

“Namjoon’s talking to Kaya and Jin hyung’s probably taking a nap,” says Hoseok, giving Jungkook a disgusted look as he inhales a handful of fries. “And Taehyungie’s in the shower, I think.”

“Shouldn’t you go, too?” Chris asks.

Dilara chokes on her water. “Excuse me?”

He raises his eyebrows as Yoongi grins from where he’s sorting through the food. “I meant… shower. By yourself. Because your hair is wet?” He reminds her, fingering the ends of her ponytail. “You can’t afford to fall sick.”

Still recovering and trying not to picture Taehyung in the shower, joining him in the shower, or showering together, she mumbles something incoherent and bolts, cursing the weather for not being able to take a cold shower. By the time she’s out, feeling much warmer with freshly washed hair and dry, soft woollens, what seems like an army of Korean men are gathered in the kitchen, talking and laughing loudly. 

Suddenly feeling very tiny and very female, she pads over gingerly and emerges quietly between Chris and Yoongi, reaching for a piece of pita bread and dipping it in hummus.

The conversation continues around her, half in Korean and half in English. She doesn’t quite join in, choosing to simply watch and sneak in bites of food, happy to let Chris socialize for both of them. At one point, Hoseok asks them if they want to watch a movie and when Chris looks at her expectantly, she hesitates, somewhat glad that even though he's talking to them, he'll ditch them if she asks him to.

She doesn't, though; Dilara shrugs and says "Sure", trying not to make it too awkward. Nodding, one by one everyone heads out with their plates piled high with food.

"Yeorobun, don't forget to thank Dilara and Chris," calls Seokjin, followed by a chorus of thank yous from the room.

"Thank you," a soft and deep voice echoes from next to her.

Startled, she almost drops the bottle of water she’s holding. Dilara looks up and nods slightly. "You're welcome," she murmurs to Taehyung, suddenly finding it hard to meet his gaze when he's standing this close to her. He smells overwhelmingly of his lotion and her immediate instinct is to want to bury her nose in the sleeve of his sweater and inhale until she passes out. She swallows and tries to distract herself by looking down at his sweater, frowning when she realises it looks familiar.

“Is that -” She catches herself just in time, trying to stop the automatic smile that she can feel creeping up on her face and turning away.

Next to her, she hears him quietly chuckle. “Yeah, it is,” he answers after a moment.

Stay strong, Dilara. 

They stay there, side by side, hesitantly sharing an old memory for a moment until they’re broken out of it by Chris turning around and calling her name, warning her that the schnitzel will get over if she doesn’t come for it soon enough. Grateful for the interruption, she hurries away from the kitchen, ignoring how her heart flutters when her arm brushes Taehyung’s, and takes a seat on one of the side couches next to Jungkook. 

In the middle couch, facing the TV, Chris sits with Hoseok and Namjoon to his left, Yoongi on an armchair in the corner, and on the other side couch directly opposite her, Taehyung walks up to sit between Seokjin and Jimin, a smile still lingering on his face.

It goes back to one of their Zoom calls in December, just after Christmas. It was nothing special; he’d been wearing this sweater, a fluffy white one with brown, red and yellow stripes, looking festive yet casual. Dilara had commented on it, only for him to reply a bit haughtily that it was Gucci, that she needed to have some respect. 

He’d been completely straight-faced as he’d said it, and when he’d brought Yeontan onto his lap, she’d burst out laughing when she’d realised his dog got completely camouflaged in front of the sweater. The rest of the call had just been her teasing him mercilessly about the sweater until he, in a fit of annoyance, announced he was going to bed.

Dilara had apologised all night on text but hadn’t been able to resist squeezing in a joke or two more, to which he’d suddenly responded with a Careful, Lara. The tone had suddenly changed and she’d frowned, heart beating slightly faster, and asked him what for. 

He’d proceeded to list down all the things he knew he could do to her, before calling her on video and commanding her to finger myself, refusing her orgasm until she’d whimpered an apology and felt it crash down on her the next second. He’d watched her finish with half-lidded eyes, breathing heavily himself and it was only then that she realised that he’d been touching himself, too. Not taking his eyes off her possibly fucked out expression, he’d pushed the camera back slightly so she could watch him spill over his own fingers with a loud, throaty grunt. 

It was one of the hottest experiences of her life, especially given how physically far apart they were then. Ironically, when she was falling asleep later after a sweet, affectionate goodnight from him, she’d been relieved that they were clearly able to keep their sex life somewhat active even if they weren’t together. Now, when she sneaks another glance at him, she sees him looking right at her with that same nostalgic expression, biting his lip.

The others are discussing what movie to watch, switching to English. Hoseok immediately suggests an English movie since Dilara is present and everyone else agrees even as she shakes her head, but Chris, ever her extroverted saviour, speaks up.

“Oh, we can watch a Korean movie,” he says, almost like it’s obvious. “I’m teaching her. Although she should stick to driving, though,” he quips.

The boys burst into laughter and she feels her cheeks get hot, still grateful at his attempts to keep the mood light. Taking care to avoid their eyes, she shakes her head at Chris who simply grins at her. “Korean is fine,” she finally agrees, giving him a look. “I can read subtitles.”

A discussion begins on which movie, with everyone including Chris pitching in. Across from her, Taehyung and Jimin are talking to each other with Jungkook beside her pitching in. All the talk is in Korean but she’s just focused on Taehyung laughing, his boxy smile and bashful expression as Jin makes some kind of comment, and suddenly feels the urge to cuddle with him. She knows it’s ridiculous, but she allows herself the fantasy for a moment: the fluffy sweater, his warm hands, the long blond hair tickling her cheek, his deep voice snickering in her ear.

It’s pointless, though, she reminds herself as she tears her eyes away from him. It’s not going to happen and it shouldn’t either. Maybe it’s the sweater. Maybe once he takes it off and goes back to his regular joggers and t-shirts and shorts and jeans and coats, he’ll… well, he’ll still look fantastic but hopefully, her cuddling urges won’t resurface.

The sound of her name brings Dilara out of her reverie. “Dilara hates horror movies,” declares Chris, turning to her. “We should definitely watch one.”

She flips him off while some of the guys snicker. “I don’t hate them,” she says defensively, pulling her hoodie tighter around her shoulders. “I watch them all the time, I just… think they’re a bit thin on plot, that’s all.”

Chris snorts. “In all the time that I’ve known you, you’ve never watched a horror movie unless you’ve been massively outvoted,” he points out, annoyingly correct. “That’s two - no, three years, Komyshan.”

“You’ve known each other only three years?” Hoseok asks, frowning in surprise. “You act like you’ve known each other forever.”

“I’m her best friend,” states Chris, shrugging. There’s something strange about the way he says it; he doesn't say she's my best friend, the way someone normally would. He's establishing his place in her life, as though he’s reminding everyone… or one person, if the way his eyes flicker to Taehyung is any indication.

“After Lexie, of course,” she pipes up, sarcastically blowing him a kiss when he narrows his eyes at her.

“How did you two meet?” Jungkook asks.

“Technically?” Chris dusts his hands on his jeans and cocks his head over to me. “I hit on her at a pub in London and she said no. The next day, Lexie brought her to my studio.”

“Seriously, what are the odds?” Dilara mutters, still mortified at the memory. “And you didn’t hit on me, you offered to buy me a drink. And I said no because I was scheduled on the SIM the next morning.”

“You hit on her?” Jin gives her an appraising look, apparently ignoring her caveat entirely. “You really have a thing for Korean guys, huh?” When Namjoon rolls his eyes and nudges him, he widens his eyes. “No, not in a bad way! Just… I mean, that’s two guys in this room who’ve hit on you, no?”

Dilara tentatively glances at Taehyung, hugely relieved for some reason to see him fighting a hint of a smile before catching her eye. His gaze, presumably at remembering how and when he hit on me, is too intense and she has to look away to the member on his left. “Three if you count Jimin,” she quips, raising an eyebrow challengingly.

Jimin guffaws, two pink spots appearing on his cheeks. “No, no, it’s not the same,” he denies vigorously, throwing an arm around Taehyung’s shoulders and being, in Dilara’s opinion, transparent as fuck.

“Well, you’ve certainly hooked up with two people in this room,” says Chris nonchalantly.

It takes her a moment to register what he’s said. “That was during spin the bottle,” she says quickly, glaring at Chris, “and it doesn’t count. Or Lexie would’ve killed me,” she adds deliberately.

Chris shrugs, apparently conceding, but the damage is done. Dilara’s eyes dart towards Taehyung. All hints of smiles have left his face and he's staring at Chris. All of a sudden, he looks at her, expression unreadable, before poking his tongue through his cheek and looking down at his lap. 

She’s extremely annoyed; at Chris for bringing it up, at Taehyung for having the nerve to have any kind of reaction, and herself for actually caring what her ex-boyfriend thinks.

Thankfully the conversation moves away from this hideously uncomfortable topic to something else, still half in Korean and half in English. Apparently they've finally decided on a movie because there's some verbal scuffle between Hoseok, Namjoon, Jin and Chris, while Yoongi dryly comments upon something. 

Dilara tries not to notice how little the others are participating; it's an uncomfortable feeling of anticipation, like she’s waiting for something else to go wrong.

"Dilara, catch!" True to form, she just about sees Hoseok throwing something to her and she reflexively catches it, to a chorus of hoots from around the room.

"Daebak," says Jungkook from next to her, looking at me in awe.

She grins. "Thanks."

"Uh-uh," pipes up Chris, and she knows right before he speaks what this is about, "In Korean, please."

She rolls her eyes at his stern tone. "Not now, Chris."

"Oh, come on, that's how you practice," he says easily, leaning over the arm of the couch and nudging her elbow. "Come on, try it."

"I'm not going to speak Korean right now," she mutters, feeling her face heat up.

"Who better to speak it in front of?" He spreads his arms and gestures to the room.

"I've actually never heard you speak Korean," says Jimin, looking interested. "Except that one time in Yeongam."

Dilara doesn't respond, mostly because she’s just realised that most of the Korean she ever spoke around the group, she spoke around Taehyung only, given how conscious she’s always been. Her eyes meet his again for a moment and she sees him frown slightly before she looks away.

Meanwhile, Chris is still on his mission to make her embarrass herself in front of everyone. "Go on, come on, you need to practice…"

"Not gonna happen."

"Just once, Komyshan, come on," he keeps going, being unusually persistent.

Dilara frowns. "Chris, let it go," she hisses, starting to feel hassled.

"Dude, just one -"

"She said no."

Everyone's eyes, including Dilara’s, immediately snap to Taehyung, who's looking at Chris with a hardened jaw and steely gaze. For a moment, she acknowledges how all thoughts of cuddling him are out the window, but then she turns to look at Chris with a mixture of slight apology and mostly exasperation, like he'd asked for it.

Chris pauses, observing Taehyung, as though he hadn't quite realised how aggressive he was being. Then he turns to her slowly and the amusement in his eyes gives her a Very Bad Feeling. "Sorry, Lara," he says clearly, almost taunting.

Dilara wants to throw something at him; it's never been explicitly stated, but no one calls her Lara, no one apart from Taehyung. They may not be together anymore and she may have forbidden him from calling her that… but hearing someone else use that endearment  makes her want to throw up.

She notices a movement from the corner of her eye and shifts slightly to see Jimin tugging on Taehyung's sleeve, as though to prevent him from moving from where he's seated. He doesn't look at her and for once, she wishes he would.

Someone clears his throat and Dilara looks up to see Yoongi looking between Chris and Taehyung with a slightly raised eyebrow. "Um… what movie did we decide on finally?" 

Hoseok seems to snap out of it as well, immediately naming some movie and thankfully, the tension is broken. She rolls her eyes at Chris and looks away, determined to chew him out later for this. From the glimpse she caught of his face, he doesn't look apologetic or abashed at all. If anything, although his smirk has disappeared, he looks satisfied at the reaction he's gotten - from Taehyung.

There's some more chatter, more hesitant than before and mostly led by Hoseok and Seokjin. It's a mix of English and Korean again and finally, the movie begins. 

"Do we have popcorn?" Jimin asks suddenly, turning to look towards the kitchen as though expecting a bowl to fly over to him.

"There's some in one of the cabinets, I think," she answers, glad to be talking to anyone but Chris or Taehyung. "I can make it in the microwave if you want," she offers, already standing up.

"No, no, you can't miss the beginning of the movie," says Jungkook, tugging on her sleeve and grinning up at her. "It's scary, but not that scary."

Dilara mock-glares at him and moves to flick him on the forehead while Chris frowns. "You hate popcorn," he states.

"I don't hate it," she points out lightly, "and it'll only take a minute."

"You need the subtitles more than anyone else, though."

"I'm sure one minute won't make a huge difference," she argues through gritted teeth, wondering what his problem is.

"You know, she can make her own decisions," comes Taehyung's voice from the other side, loudly.

Not again, she wants to groan, and flops back down on the couch, shrugging at Jimin silently as if to say I tried. He grimaces and nods, just as Chris responds.

"I know. I also know that she hates not knowing what's going on in a movie and then keeps talking through it," he states, ignoring her when she makes a noise of disbelief at him.

"So let her," snaps Taehyung, and Dilara knows it's because he's taken it at least a little personally, since talking through movies is something he does, too; something they used to do together, commenting on everything from dialogue to scenery to costumes.

"What? It doesn't annoy you?" Chris asks, raising his eyebrows, as though daring him to admit it.

"It doesn't. Like I said, she can make her own decisions."

Chris bites his lip for a moment, as though reconsidering his response, before apparently deciding to do so. To Dilara’s horror, keeping a steely gaze on Taehyung, he replies in Korean. She doesn't understand it, obviously, but she notices everyone frown slightly, like they're not quite sure what he's said. Namjoon is the first to close his eyes and deflate slightly, like he's internally sighing, and she has an inkling of what Chris is at least referring to.

Across the room, Taehyung looks like a statue as he glares at Chris. He asks something, tone abrupt, to which Chris shrugs and responds. It carries on like this, a conversation in Korean between Dilara’s ex-boyfriend and one of her best friends, a loaded and precarious conversation where neither of them seemingly wants to cross the line from riffing to arguing, but still seem seconds away from whipping out their dicks.

She only manages to catch a few words here and there, including her name a couple of times, but other than that, she’s lost. It’s extremely frustrating, this handicap, being the only one unable to understand a conversation of which she is the subject, especially when she notices the expressions of the other spectators, becoming more and more still, as though expecting something - or someone - to explode. 

Dilara looks at Taehyung, silently willing him to stop… although she supposes she should want Chris to be the one to stop it just as much. She hadn't seen this coming; she knows Taehyung has a tendency to get territorial and she’s not dense enough to not notice how he feels about her, much as she might try to ignore it. 

She also knows that Chris is a good friend, one of the best, but has a tendency to be a complete jerk if he puts his mind to it. He can be insensitive and direct and say just the right thing to get under her skin; usually he does it to get her to face her anxiety, using tough love in a way that only he can make work. It doesn’t now, though. For a moment, her mind goes to Lexie and his conviction that he wouldn't be good for her. At this moment, Dilara agrees with him.

Her heart is racing now, the anxiety at not knowing what the fuck is going on eating away at her. She swallows, willing Taehyung to at least look at her. He doesn't, though; his attention is solely focused on Chris, even when he haughtily looks away as though the conversation isn't worth his time. 

Suddenly, Taehyung’s eyes snap to her and she almost flinches, not expecting it. His eyes flicker with emotion and he swallows, and it looks like he wants to say something. Even though he’s notoriously hard to read, right now the regret and guilt in his face is obvious as day, at least to her. She doesn’t know what Chris said to get this reaction out of him, but she finds she doesn’t really care at this moment. She just wants to reach for him.

However, before Dilara can structure any further coherent thoughts, Taehyung’s gaze falls and he murmurs something. She doesn’t understand it, but it’s clear that it’s a closure to the conversation, especially when Namjoon clears his throat and points to the TV, apparently not realising he’s speaking in Korean. 

As the movie resumes, she looks over at Chris to see him staring at Taehyung, all traces of humour and playfulness gone. It’s not anger, exactly… it’s the face he gives her every time she’s on the verge of giving up in the gym or every time she starts talking herself down before a race.

There are no more interruptions for the rest of the night. Dilara can’t believe how angry she is at both of them for this, especially when they started talking about her like she wasn’t even there. Chris started it, Taehyung enabled it and now, she just wants to be away from both of them.

Dilara tries to concentrate on the movie, whispering only once in a while to Jungkook beside her when the subtitles move too fast or there’s a reference she doesn’t get, nodding when he answers immediately. For once, she’s glad he hasn’t ever tried to broach this topic with her. She ends up resting her head on his shoulder as they watch, but still only half-concentrating.

She can’t get Taehyung’s face out of her mind. She remembers all the times she’s talked to him since they got here: in Spa, Monza, Imola, even last week in Germany, not to mention his many attempts at trying to talk to her before she told him categorically to leave her alone. She’d seen him in various states of guilt and devastation, but right now he looked… resigned. Fear grips at her heart when she thinks about it, but she can’t immediately figure out why.

She has to know what they were talking about. She has to. She pulls out her phone and contemplates texting Chris, but she’s too angry to talk to him right now. Who else? Namjoon? She’s opened up to him enough before. Jimin? No, he looks far too uncomfortable. Yoongi? They’ve recently connected a bit and she at least has faith that he’ll be as direct as possible. 

Shaking her head, Dilara finally texts the one person she actually wants to talk to right now.

What did he say to you?

She watches Taehyung as he glances at his phone, how he stares at the screen with his thumbs hovering over it, how he doesn’t so much as look up at her even once. After almost a minute, he types out a reply.

Nothing I don’t already know.

—

An hour and a half later, Dilara enters her room with Chris right behind her. Taking off her hoodie and throwing it to the desk with more force than she intended, she turns to face him. “What the hell was that?”

“A very average movie,” he says casually, taking off his own jacket and throwing it on top of hers.

“Don’t fuck with me, Park.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Oh, are you talking about the heart to heart I had with your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” she says through gritted teeth, “and whatever that was, it definitely wasn’t a heart to heart.”

“You don’t need to worry about it,” he says dismissively, walking past her towards the bathroom.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me. Chris!” 

He turns on the light and looks back at her for a moment. “Should’ve paid more attention when I tried to teach you Korean, Lara.”

“Suck my dick, Park.”

Chris gives her a hollow smirk before turning and shutting the door behind him. 

Dilara could hit him. She really could. It’s almost as though he’s enjoying getting a rise out of her, just like he’d taunted Taehyung with whatever he’d said that made him look like he was about to cry. 

Nothing I don’t already know… She hasn’t the faintest what it means. She’s not even sure she wants to find out. Outside, a rumble of thunder crashes and she exhales in frustration when she realises that tomorrow might just be a wet Qualifying.

Chris was meant to go back to his hotel tonight, returning the rented motorcycle to the staff and checking out first thing in the morning before flying back to London. But the rain had started lashing down towards the end of the movie and by the time it was done, the visibility was so bad that they couldn’t even see his bike parked in the front yard.

Naturally, he was staying with Dilara, no matter how pissed off she was. When everyone had stood up to head inside, he’d half-smirked and asked how comfortable the couch was. Too annoyed to speak to him and just done with the excessive testosterone, she’d simply bit back a retort and pulled him into her room by the hand.

Now, Chris comes out of the bathroom and starts unbuttoning his jeans, changing into a pair of sweatpants lent to him by Namjoon, the only member as tall as him. Dilara stares at him, not backing down. Finally, he huffs. “Okay, what?”

Her eyes widen. “What do you mean what? How about we start with why you were so rude?”

“Rude to who? Your ex?” he questions immediately. “Do you really care about his feelings now?”

“I - I meant… to everyone. We were trying to watch a movie and you made it into some fucking drama about two people and their stupid love life.”

“We’d watched literally two minutes of the movie till then. Also,” he continues, “I’m pretty sure I did everyone a favour because that movie sucked.”

“Damn it, Chris!” she exclaims. “It was so embarrassing!”

“Look, I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, alright? But let’s be real. If this was Lexie here instead of me and she blew up at him while defending you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Glaring at her, he rips the covers off the bed with force.

Dilara swallows, not expecting the conversation to take this turn. “That’s not - that’s not true. If she’d said… she doesn’t even speak -”

“Does he have any idea what you were like during those weeks after you broke up?” he interrupts. “How he broke you? Do you even remember what you were like then?”

She feels a lump forming in her throat. “Yeah, I think I have a pretty good fucking idea how I was, Chris.”

“Good. Because you were a wreck, Dilara,” he states, but it doesn’t sound insulting. He’s trying to remind her. “Does he know you were on the verge of tears for weeks? That we literally didn’t see you smile for nearly a month? How you overdid it in the gym, how you skipped every boxing session we planned, how your anxiety doubled every time you got in the car because you’d fucked up Melbourne - because of him? Does he know,” he continues, and his voice cracks just a little, “how he shattered your confidence at the bloody start of a season?”

The only sound is from the rain outside. 

“Please tell me you didn’t tell him all that,” she says quietly, her voice hoarse and unsteady.

“That’s what you’re worried about right now?” Chris looks just a little disappointed. “I’m your friend. You think I wanted to see you like that? You think any of us did? Why shouldn’t he know?”

She opens her mouth to argue but nothing comes out. She remembers, despite herself, how alone she’d felt here, how ganged up on she’d felt when all six of them stuck up for Taehyung after the VMAs, how all six of them lied to her this spring, and how all six of them have systematically broken down the wall she built this year to the point where she’s fighting with Chris because he made her ex, the man who broke her heart, feel bad.

When Dilara doesn’t say anything, Chris rolls his eyes and holds his hands up, like he’s giving up. “Whatever. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow morning.”

She sighs, watching him turn around and head to the mirror, checking out his hair. “Come on, don’t act like I’m trying to get rid of you,” she tells him in a small voice, feeling distinctly ungrateful all of a sudden. “This is the happiest I’ve been since August. And only part of it has to do with the schnitzel.”

He gives a half-hearted chuckle but doesn’t reply. 

“Thank you,” she says after a moment, “for standing up for me. In your own weird, fucked up way. It’s a very best friend thing to do.”

“You’re welcome.” He finally turns and heads straight for the bed, tucking himself in. “Don’t let Lexie hear you say that, though.”

“She’ll deal.” They look at each other for a moment, silently apprising the other. “I just… don’t like conflict. You know that.”

“I do. Doesn’t matter to me.” He shrugs. “You know we’ll always stick up for you. Just like we did with that creepy journalist at Sky.”

Shuddering at the memory, she gets into bed as well. “Jerk. Still,” she adds, nudging his shoulder, “a very best friend thing to do.”

“Go to sleep, Komyshan. You have a race tomorrow.”

Smiling to herself, she turns to her side, facing away from him and closing her eyes. It’s a few more minutes before one of them speaks.

“I hooked up with Maria from Mercedes.”

Dilara’s eyes snap open and she frowns Maria from Mercedes… “Social media manager, skinny jeans, always had the hots for you, Maria?” She can tell from his silence that she’s right. “What… when?”

“In Bahrain. Right after we got back from Australia.” 

By we he means him and Lexie and by Bahrain he means… about a week after Dilara saw the article about Taehyung and Jennie. She swallows, shocked into silence.

“Lexie knows,” he says, answering her silent question. “She… she caught us, actually.” He sighs shakily. “Australia was… it was too much. I was getting in too deep and it freaked me out and I - I really fucked up.” 

Dilara doesn’t know whether to be furious or have sympathy for him. “Did it help?” she asks after a moment.

There’s a long pause before he speaks again, voice smaller than ever. “No. So, believe it or not… I can relate to Taehyung better than you think. He should know what he did to you.”

She bites her lip, not knowing which is worse: having to remember what he really did to her, remembering his face earlier this evening, thinking about what Lexie was going through when she found out, how she didn’t tell Dilara because she obviously didn’t want to burden her… or Chris, sounding more vulnerable than she’s ever known him to be.

“It’s killing him, Komyshan,” he says quietly, so soft that she can barely hear him over the rain. She doesn't know if he’s talking about Taehyung or himself. “Knowing what he did and not knowing how to make it right? It’s killing him.”

---

Dilara wakes up the next morning to an apologetic looking sun streaming in from the window. A small, hopeful smile makes its way onto her face. Dry race. She turns to see the other side of the bed empty, frowning when she  realises Chris must have left already. She reaches for her phone to see a text from him.

Leaving now. Tried to wake you up but you almost punched me in the face. Good luck for today and DO NOT let Ricciardo psych you out about anything.

She rolls her eyes, certain he must be exaggerating. The time stamp on the message is from a minute ago, though; frowning, she gets out of bed, hoping she can catch him before he leaves. When she reaches her bedroom door, however, she hears voices. Two voices; she opens the door slightly, quietly, breath catching in her throat when she hears Taehyung and Chris.

They’re speaking in Korean, so naturally she can’t understand a word. They’re also talking softly, sounding much more amiable than last night. Hesitating, she opens the door slightly wider and peers out. From her bedroom in the hallway, she can see just the edge of the kitchen island. 

She spots Chris leaning against it, facing in her direction, dressed comfortably in all black with his sunglasses tucked down the front of his t-shirt. There’s a white ceramic bowl with a spoon in it in front of him. His face looks serious, nothing like the troublemaking jerk last night. 

Dilara can hear Taehyung, his voice low and deep, sounding almost tired. There’s some clinking; she pictures him making his way through the kitchen, looking for cereal or something. The fridge opens and closes, and then she sees him come slightly into view, wearing his printed Ralph Lauren pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt on top. His messy blond hair brushes the back of his t-shirt, falling into his eyes when he turns his head slightly.

She doesn’t know what they’re talking about and she doesn’t want to. It’s Qualifying day; she can’t focus on this. She shuts the door and heads into the bathroom, getting ready for the day. She wishes Chris was staying today; it always helps to have someone cheer you on and talk you up while you stretch before a race. In an incredibly sweet gesture, Hoseok had offered earlier this week to accompany her if she wanted, but Namjoon had immediately yet apologetically reminded him that he couldn’t just hang out with her that publicly - and definitely not in her changing room.

Dilara waits to hear the front door open and close, followed by another door opening and closing, meaning Taehyung has departed to his room as well. She emerges then, heading to the empty kitchen and trying not to think about yesterday at all. She spots the jar of muesli stacked high up in a cabinet. Sighing, she tries to reach for it before preparing to hop onto the countertop. Just as she’s about to hoist herself up, a hand appears from behind her and brings down the jar. 

She turns to see Taehyung appear on her other side, giving her a silent glance of acknowledgement before sorting through the bowl of fruit. Behind him, she sees the pantry door ajar. Slowly assembling her cereal, she wonders if it’s a good idea to reveal that she knows he and Chris talked this morning, or even that she knows what they argued about last night. 

Their fingers brush lightly, so lightly that she thinks she may have imagined it. She lowers her head a bit so her hair falls down her shoulders, shielding her face from view. 

There’s something oddly comforting about standing next to him. It’s confusing, because if anything, it should be worse after last night. She can’t put her finger on it exactly, but she knows it’s familiar, so incredibly familiar that it tugs at her heartstrings in a way that makes her want to crumble. 

She’s felt this before, all the way since the beginning, since the weekend they met and she immediately trusted him with everything she had. When their shoulders brush, she feels him pause next to her.

“Did you sleep with him?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.

A few weeks ago, Dilara wouldn’t have hesitated to say yes. She wouldn’t have cared how off base he was; she would’ve lied through her teeth as nonchalantly as possible before walking away from him, savagely enjoying how much he’d hate it. 

But she can’t do that now. Try as she might, she can’t find that part of her that wants to hurt him that badly. Not when he’s taken the risk to ask her something like this, something he knows he has no right to ask, to get an answer he most likely doesn’t want. Not when he sounds like this, like he’s on the verge of giving up.

Dilara bites her lip, suddenly overcome with emotion for her ex. His face from last night haunts her, and his text sends a pang of pity through her heart. It’s killing him. It sounds like it, too. There’s no jealousy, no possessiveness to his question, only desperation tending towards resignation. 

Despite Chris’s anger for her last night, she knows that if she lies to Taehyung right now, it’ll shatter him. She glances at where their hands are on the counter, a hair’s breadth away from touching. Hearing his unsteady breathing from next to her, she decides she’s punished him enough.

“No,” she answers quietly.

From the corner of her eye, she sees him nod once before turning to walk past her inside. Without thinking, she grabs his wrist to stop him. He halts and even though this wasn’t planned, she knows it’s absolutely what she wants to do right now. 

She takes a step to her right so that she’s standing right in front of him, her heart beating so fast it hurts. She hesitates for a moment, reaching for the bottom of his white t-shirt, gripping the fabric between her fingertips. Then, with a sudden calm she wasn’t expecting, she reaches forward and wraps her arms around his waist, resting her forehead against his shoulder.

Taehyung freezes, like she suspected he would. But she stays there, moving forward slightly so their torsos press against each other, a small warmth in the dawn of an Austrian winter. She can hear his heart racing and she tightens her arms around him a bit, letting him know it’s not a mistake. 

Slowly, he lifts his arms from his sides and brings them up to her back, touching her so gently as if she might break. It takes him a few more seconds to properly envelope her and when he does, it feels like a piece has fallen into place.

With his lean torso in her grasp, his steady arms around her, she knows it’s a result of last night, where It wasn’t just Chris who defended her against Taehyung, but Taehyung who defended her against Chris, too. He didn’t have to; it wasn’t even his place, but he did it anyway. As she feels him lower his head onto her shoulder and feel his cheek press against the side of her head, his arms tightening around her, she realises she feels safe. 

Dilara presses her forehead into his broad shoulder and inhales slightly, tears springing to her eyes at the familiar scent of lotion. Taehyung turns his head slightly to bury his face in her neck, one hand firm around her back and the other cradling her head, fingertips soft in her hair. She thinks she feels him shake slightly and she hugs him tighter, opening her loose fists and letting her fingers and palms gently touch his back. He inhales shakily, long hair brushing the skin of her neck. 

They break apart when someone enters the kitchen. Both of them are jerked out of it but they don’t jump away from each other, instead slowly separating one body part after another, no longer embarrassed in front of anyone else. With her shoulder still pressed against his chest, she turns to see Namjoon and Hoseok looking awkward and sheepish, muttering incoherently about coming back later and whatnot, but she knows the moment’s over. So she shakes her head and gives them an awkward wave, telling them she needs to be at the track anyway. 

She doesn’t look at Taehyung again but as she leaves, she feels his hand drop from around her waist, where she didn’t even realise it was resting.

—

Thank you for reading. Don't forget to leave a review :)

[aciddaffodil]

When fandom and media are how I express love to important people in my life:

I express my love for people through media, it's the way it's always been for me. My brother and I went through every phase under the moon: Scooby-Doo, Power Rangers, Romcoms, every Tom Cruise movie in existence. My mom when I'd wake up from night terrors or just plain insomnia would always have some horror related thing on, I vividly remember Friday the 13th episode plotlines even if it's been 15 years. I've watched my other mum beat Breath of the Wild and Super Mario Odessey to near 100 % completion. Whenever I make a new friend and I'm trying to find a common ground, I almost always end up watching something for them- it's how I got into Hermitcraft and what pushed me to be a cosplayer. I finally gave Critical Role C2 The Mighty Nein another try, and now send updates to my brother and get cryptic replies back. The first time I watched Mob Psycho 100 S3, I waited weeks for my best friend to fly in to visit and we binged all the episodes that were out together. And then 9 months later when my partner flew into town to visit, we watched all of season 3 again for her first time watching the series.

And to get to the point of this post and what prompted me to write this: my papa, my adopted dad of sorts, has been watching and reading One Piece for 10-15 years. We share the Crunchyroll account and as I've watched and continued on my One Piece journey, I noticed he hadn't been watching it recently and I didn't think much of it- maybe he's been too busy or busy watching seasonals. Come to find out, he's put watching One Piece on hold for me so I can catch up and we can watch it together. Which is just a huge expression of love, in my eyes at least. I cried about it and just wanted to share :3

[goopyslimeybxstrd]

“welcome to the circus!” sleepy boys inc. &co fanfic — chapter 1

hi! this is my first time writing a fanfic, posting an actual thing on tumblr and also the FIRST chapter of my circus au sbi&co fanfic!

this would normally be posted on ao3 but i’m currently waiting for my invitation.. but im very excited to share it with people and my friend recommended posting it on here since apparently fics do very well on here:)

BETA READ BY CLEETUSPAWS (THANK YOU SO MUCH!)

the rain hit the stone tiles of the street with loud pitter-patters, accompanied by the splash of a red pair of vans and black converse walking through a puddle. toby sighed when rain hit his head through the umbrella, looking up at the inconveniently placed hole. he turned to tommy with a frown, who was blissfully unaware and munching happily on his shitty sausage role from the sketchy bakery a few blocks away. 

“tom, the umbrellas got a hole in it.. and my hairs getting wet.” 

toby sighed, tapping tommy on the shoulder with a small slightly annoyed smile, pointing to the hole once tom had looked over.

tommy looked puzzled, 

“what the fuck man? this umbrella was fine like— two days ago, when that guy gave it to me.. did you bite it or something tubs?” 

he snickered, nudging the other boy with his elbow, a smirk plastered across his face, causing toby to fall backwards a tiny bit. he gasped, folding his arms.

“hey! don’t you be nudging me, also, i’m not a rat, i didn’t bite the umbrella. i don’t think it would be that tasty anyway..” 

he grinned, nudging the blonde back with a laugh. 

tom laughed out loud, finally moving the umbrella around so the hole was behind the both of them, the rain still cruising through but luckily far enough away that it wasn’t bothering the two. the hair of the two swayed in sync in the soft breath of the wind and the rain seemed louder on the top of the run-down umbrella now. or maybe they seemed quieter; it was hard to tell. 

they had been quieter with eachother than normal recently, anyway. tommy had noticed it, assuming tubbo hadn’t so much. if toby noticed anything wrong he would obviously tell him, right? that’s how it’s been going since they were twelve years old— how its been going since they declared they were best friends in that shitty run down orphanage. shivers run down his spine at even the mention of that place. what a nightmare of a shithole, tom felt a pang of guilt for all the kids who were still stuck there, trapped in the foster system. he just hopes they wake up one day and take the chances of escaping. 

tom snapped back into reality after a short moment, rolling his eyes at the fact he had a full train of thought about the life he so desperately wanted to leave behind in the dirt. maybe one day they’ll be able to help out some kids to escape that dump. 

well, obviously not now.

scraping his lunch funds together was difficult enough for him.. let alone having to donate to the homeless shelter camp thing so he and toby can still ‘live’ somewhere. 

“it’s practically paying rent, just masked as a nicer thing.” he explained to toby once, after they’d dropped whatever money they had left at the end of the month into the red bucket gripped by the owner of the land.

toby sighed, looking over to tom who had a wry look in his eyes, turning away quickly. he made an awkward facial expression before speaking:

“is it a mcdonald’s night.. or have we already spent too much money today?” he quizzed, glancing up to tommy and watching his hand as he brought it up to brush it through his hair, the blonde strands falling over his forehead again comfortably.

tommy thought for a moment, suddenly turning up to tubbo with a cheeky smile.

“you know what tubzo? why not man? we deserve it. we’ve been working all week and shit..” he gushed, gripping the umbrella tighter in his hand. toby seemed to catch up on the excitement, grinning back at him.

they walked faster now, turning onto a different street other than the one which would direct them home, chatting along until tommy stopped. turning to a telephone pole and looking at the brightly coloured poster stamped on it.

‘CASTING OPEN’ it read in a big pink font, a black shadow decorating it. under that violation to the eyes, there was extra text. holy shit.

there layed the logo of the ‘syndicate circus’, the swirly writing all too familiar and sported with the three colours for the three members. yellow for acrobur (‘what a stupid fucking name,’ tommy thought, who hates their child that much? he hates to admit acrobur was probably his favourite, though..), a bright green for crowman and a vibrant red for the blood god. jesus christ. 

he poked tubbo on the shoulder, pointing to the poster and aggressively tapping on it.

“toby. are. you. seeing. this? castings for SYNDICATE? TUBZ. THIS WOULD BE INSANE.” he marvelled, grabbing the poor boy by his shoulders and shaking him slightly.

toby scoffed, 

“tom you’re being a bit ambitious.. they wouldn’t let two teenagers - who barely have any talent at all - within fifty feet of the tent, let alone in it.”

tom rolled his eyes, crossing his arms, “you’re so boring, toby!” he ranted, sounding agitated,

”such a pussy. you know that right? you’re a puss.” 

his tone changed to a teasing one, poking at the brunette with a cheeky grin.

tubbo blinked, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows, waiting for tommy to continue.

tom scoffed, hands moving around in strange gestures as he attempts to explain—-

“okay- look, toby, like.. you’re good at those fuckin trampolines and i’m like really funny!” 

tom stared at tubbo while he thought, his mumbles snapping the other out of his train of thought,

“and like.. i’ve always loved syndicate circus and i just think it’d be REALLY cool..”

toby stared with a blank face, a smile creeping up slowly,

“well- you’re not that funny. but its just.. we might not have enough money to support that, tom.”

tommy massaged his temple, right. money. that’s a good point. oh well!

“who fuckin cares about money?? imagine how much we could make from joining THE syndicate circus!” he exclaimed.

toby lowered his head, thinking again before looking up to tommy about to speak—

“come on, man! pleaase?? please please? pretty please, toby..????” tom begged, trying his hardest to do some kind of puppy-eyes.. and failing.

tubbo sighed. ‘anything to make tommy be quiet,’ he thought, turning to check the date on the poster.

“fine,” he muttered, “but as soon as ANYTHING goes wrong, we’re out of there. got it?”

[hellredsky]

Let’s talk about Oscar’s noms!

It’s that time of the year when we all remember that movies exist and some are nominated for the Oscars. For me, it’s the time when I rush to try to watch every movie nominated, think I haven’t watched enough movies, just to face the truth that I actually watched a lot of them but forgot. The Oscars haven’t been so focused on prizing movies lately, they are more about the cringe and controversy, and it makes me sad a little bit. In the last few years, important movies and achievements have been obscured by stupid celebrity controversy that is just for rating or who knows at this point. So I think my best way to actually express what I feel about movies (besides ranting the entire show while only having like 2 options to vote to, cause I didn’t watch the rest), is to talk about them in written or video form. 

 Ok, let’s talk about movies! 

I will keep this movie talk short and sweet, cause I will avoid spoilers and I just want to write how I feel about these films. 

 Starting with “All Quiet in the Western Front”, a German and US movie also nominated for best international movie, directed by Edward Berger, is a very raw look at war and how can destroy your spirit in seconds. I really loved the way it portrayed the ingenuity of the young soldiers at the beginning, compared with them at the end. No spoilers, but the end is so good in my opinion cause I thought it won’t go to the extreme point I was thinking about, and it did. It surprised me by the end. A little bit slow, but well crafted.  6/10. 

Next on my list is “The Banshees of Inisherin”, directed by Martin McDonagh, it is my option for best picture, but I’m sure it’s not going to win. The movie is a bizarre tale of two friends who fade out of friendship in an abrupt and strange way. There is a full video essay by Ryan Hollinger analyzing this movie, who I really loved as a take and way to interpret the movie and some of its characters. For me, the movie was a ride and show me strong and stubborn characters with their own struggles and justifications for why all this went that way. I have no idea how much I can say without spoiling the experience, but the performances and characterization are the core of the movie. 7/10. 

Next, “Everything, Everywhere, All at Once”, directed by the Daniels. Strong and amazing movie. For sure the top 2 choices to win the Oscar. It is a very well-crafted movie, using intriguing visuals and editing bits to communicate what it wants to show the audience. It doesn’t shy to the silliness and still uses it as a solid point for the main core message of the movie. For sure my favorite monologue involves a cliff and rocks. It is a ride, it is emotional under all the sci-fi multiverse weirdness. Just so good and fun. 8/10 

The last of the best picture nominees that I watched is “Top Gun: Maverick”, directed by Joseph Kosinski. I didn’t vibe with it. At all. I was expecting to know more about the newcomers, seeing more of how they bond as a team and how the mentor steps aside to actually help the new leader shine and guide everyone. Instead, it was a lot of nostalgia (which I don’t feel about Top Gun), recreations of iconic scenes, 2 great editing scenes, good sound mixing, and Tom Cruise running (which made me laugh, don’t ask why). I barely understood their motivations and actions, contrasted with how they showed to be. It was like the script was contradicting itself to get to the “cool” scenes, but not involving the characters in their totality.  One comment I got was that it was an amazing experience in theaters and just looking at the cool stuff and the cool bodies(?), which is fine. But for me, it lacked weight and I expected to push the new crew forward and I barely even met them. 4/10.

The other movies I want to talk about are the animation category. I watched 3 of the 5 nominated to this category and, as much as I know which one is going to win, it will be a really good surprise if my option got the award instead. 

 Let’s start with the obvious one: “Turning Red” by Disney studios. We all know it, it’s Disney. What else we could say? Well, a lot actually. Turning Red is a very solid movie in general. It happens to be animation, which is a great medium to tell this cool story cause it uses its visual media and malleable storytelling to express how characters perceive the world and portray the message in a interesting and fantastic way. Not gonna lie, I’m biased cause I was a kid in the 90s-00s when this movie is pulling their visuals and references, and it touched my inner kid’s soul. But it has a great message for future generations and is also a great piece to help millennials, like me, to heal a bunch of unsaid things. 6.5/10 

Next is “Sea Beast”, a Netflix joint. This movie has cool concept art and I’m pretty sure there is lore here that wasn’t used in the movie I’m sad about it cause the visuals of the world are very rich. But the story only allowed them to show so little and never compromised on distinguishing their characters from other similar characters in similar journeys. In the end, it was very predictable and its message was too on the nose. 5/10.

Last in this category is “Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio”, also a Netflix production and my choice for a winner. I went to this movie knowing a lot about Pinocchio, about the original story, about all its adaptations, and, obviously, the comparation with the disney one (the true one). This movie is gritty and extreme at times. Cause it is animation as a medium, not as an “only for kids” or “less category” film. The movie shows raw emotions and scenes about war and experiences of exploitation, duty, and what means to be good in the end. It is sad and has a bittersweet ending, like many of Del Toro’s movies, and it also challenges the media with great stop-motion animation. The design of most things is just THE BEST I’ve seen in a while. The designs of the blue fairy are just a delight. 8/10.

And that’s it for now I guess. I’ve watched other movies that weren’t nominated but were part of other awards, and there are some I wanted to watch that I couldn’t do before the ceremony. In any case, I’m happy that I’m back writing about movies and will try to do more often. I will not make this blog only for movies and tv shows rants and reviews, but those are one of my favorite things to watch and talk about, so bare with me. Let me know which movies did you watch and if you are watching the Oscars too. I would love to read your takes on all of these films and more. 

Read you later!

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Okay. Okay. Listen. Before I even say a single word about this perfect little Dee & Lua snack, I need to stand on my couch and scream (à la Tom Cruise on Oprah) about Psychomanteum as a whole. It came HIGHLY recommended by a friend and immediately from the get go I could see why. 4 chapters (+ this add on delight) in and I am so hooked on this story and these characters and FUCK! your writing is incredible! I’m pacing myself and only reading one or two chapters at a time because I just want to roll around in my feelings about it for a little while before moving on. Like a cat in catnip. I’m going to have a metric ton of things to say and highlight when I am finished reading the series, that I know for sure. This story is carving out its own portion of my heart and I’m gladly making space.

Alright, now that that’s done *sits back down on couch* I can discuss the pure delight of this long distance wake & bake sesh. (Side note: did not read this first thing in the morning, but did have the exact same checklist as Lua 😉) The idea of a virtual smoke hang with Dieter is giving me butterflies. I would have to keep reminding myself that he’s just a human, too. But the second I saw those curls and that bare chest and heard that sleepy rumbly voice calling me beautiful?!!? DONE FOR. I love the little physical reactions she’s having - feeling warm, the change in heartbeat - it’s so clear that she’s working on a crush. Take a hit girl, your eyes are about to turn into hearts.

Their conversation is so easy and natural and it reflects the connection they share. These are two people who met each other at such major points in their lives, when they have both experienced heartbreaks and soul aches and low points, when they are both hiding but desperate to be seen and understood. And I think it’s really beautiful. Connections like that, whether they’re friendships or they become something more, are so rare but so valuable and it just makes me so happy to know that they’re sewing the seeds for that with each other.

Dieter encouraging her to scream is A+ supportive friend behavior and I’m all for it. Sometimes you really do need to express all of it at once like that. I love that he did it with her and that he didn’t just mail in a little “ahh”. Like Louella definitely won best/most cathartic scream here, but Dieter didn’t disappoint. I love the way he lets his guard down and is just a person with her. A person who cares and who wants her to be okay and be happy and who he genuinely likes talking to and spending time with. I know I said it already but I’m just so happy.

Like I said earlier I’m only through chapter 4 (5 & 6 are on my agenda tonight) so I know there’s so much more to come, but I’m so in love with these chart and the way you’re writing them. They’re real and relatable and they feel alive and I’m truly in awe. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for creating this amazing world and sharing it with all of us!!

wake & bake

pairing: dieter bravo x ofc louella

Summary: You have a virtual smoke session with your new friend and secret crush, Dieter Bravo.

Rating: Mature (see warnings)

Content Tags/Warnings: video chat, smoking weed & getting high, swearing, fluff, flirting, pet names, attempts at jokes, primal scream, crush

Word Count: 2.1k+

Notes: Hi there! This takes place in the Psychomanteum storyline between chapters 2 & 3. I think it can be read as a one shot with the context that’s given but idk. You do need to know is that Louella/Lua, our OFC and second person POV, bakes and sells edibles, bc I don’t think that’s super clear in the text. Ok thanks have a great day 🖤✨

You settle into the middle of your bed, crossing your legs as you glance around and take inventory. 

Lighter. Joint. Ashtray. Water bottle. Laptop. 

Your emerald green curtains billow and rustle when a crisp spring breeze rolls through the bedroom. The air carries the latent, earthy scent of decay and new growth from the park across the street. A shiver weaves its way up your back, so you pull the throw blanket draped around your waist up onto your shoulders like a cape. 

Despite the chill, your hands are hot pads. You press one palm to your cheek and grimace at how fast it heats you. It’s stupid to be so nervous about this. He’s just a person. 

Just a really amusing, really sweet, stupidly handsome person. 

That also happens to be famous. Which is a fact you can’t dwell on for too long before it starts to make you queasy. So, for the purposes of this conversation, you decide to omit it from your brain. 

Just a guy. 

You take a deep breath and wipe your sweaty palms on your pants, then click Join Meeting. 

A few moments go by before Dieter’s face pops up on the screen. He looks like he just crawled out of bed. His face is all puffy from sleep and his chestnut curls are sticking up every which way.

Upon seeing him, your heart starts thudding in your throat. 

He mumbles some kind of greeting while rubbing one eye and yawning, then pulls the camera back to wave at you, revealing that he’s shirtless. The video blurs and shifts like he’s en route, and you see bits and pieces of what you assume is his house in the background. 

“Good morning, sunshine!” you call, waving to the camera, probably a little too enthusiastic. 

“Good morning, beautiful,” he croaks out, voice all groggy, “Sorry, just woke up, give me a sec.”

He sets the phone down on a flat surface, giving you a view of his ceiling as he pours a cup of coffee. 

“I’ll give you all the secs you need,” you tease, and immediately cringe at yourself. But you hear a robust laugh echo through, what you assume is, his kitchen. A proud smile stretches across your face. 

“That was good,” he grins as he picks the phone up and tucks a joint behind his ear, then grabs a steaming coffee cup. The background starts moving again as he walks through the house, “How’re you doing today, doll?”

“Busy,” you fiddle with the joint, twirling its paper tip to a point, “I’ve been up since like 3:00.”

“Pretty sure that’s when I went to sleep,” he tells you with a little chuckle, “S’pose it’s like… stoner Christmas, huh? Big day in the biz.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty nuts,” you laugh, then shrug, “Keeps the lights on, though, so I’m not complaining. Parker is gonna come over in a bit and help me with the orders going out this afternoon.”

“Oh, Parker, what a guy,” Dieter smiles, opening a sliding glass door that drenches him in sunlight.

“He’s the best,” you smirk, then look up at the laptop screen and sigh, “What’re your plans for today?”

“Eh,” he shrugs, then groans as he sits down in a white patio couch, “Little of this, little of that. Gonna meet up with some people later and go to a party.” 

“Fun,” you say, trying to picture the kind of LA parties he frequents. Your imagination makes them out to be glamorous and wild. Expensive champagne, models, celebrities, drugs galore. After looking around your small bedroom, you blow a raspberry, then ask, “Well, shall we?” 

Dieter hums and plucks the joint out from behind his ear. He closes his lips around the cardboard tip, talking around it, “We shall.” 

You follow his lead, holding your joint between your lips, then raise a lighter to the business end, pulling a few quick puffs before you toss the lighter aside. Thick, skunky smoke expands your lungs. You exhale towards the window and cough a little as THC dissipates through your body, making you feel light and buoyant. 

“What’re the parties like out there?” you ask, taking another long drag. The pot starts to smooth your nervous edges and mellow you out. 

He grunts and pulls a pair of sunglasses over his eyes, then shrugs, “Bullshit. Buncha phonies trying to one up each other.” 

“Ok, Holden Caulfield,” you snort, and it earns a howl of laughter from him that makes you smile. 

“No, but really,” he takes a drag off his joint and holds the smoke captive as he tells you, “I don’t find people like you and Parker out here,” he exhales fully, coughing a little, “Or anywhere, really. That party was the most fun I’ve had in years.” 

“Bullshit,” you laugh. 

“Seriously!” He grins and clambers up in his seat, leaning forward, “I’ve done acid so many goddamn times at so many parties. And it’s always a big group of people talking over each other, trying so hard to be profound, or have a fuckin’, uhhh, spiritual experience or whatever,” he waves his hands about as he talks, pausing to take a hit. Smoke muffles his voice when he tells you, “But they’re all so fucking soulless and shallow, I can’t stand it. I usually either end up leaving to trip alone or take other shit to make it more tolerable.”

You giggle nervously, “That sounds… I dunno, like a bad fucking time, man.”

He chuckles, then murmurs, “Anyway,” sitting back in his seat, “What’s, uhhh… what’s your scene, what kind of parties do you usually go to?” 

“Uhhhhh,” you croak as you think about this, then frown at the ceiling as you take a hit off your joint and exhale, “I guess I really don’t? I go to bars more than parties, I guess, but I usually just go there to get laid.”

He smiles wide and brings a palm to his chest, “A girl after my own heart.” 

You giggle as heat creeps through your body, up your neck, “I mean, I can drink and smoke at home. But dick? I have to outsource dick—”

Dieter’s laughter is all you can hear. He leans forward and pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.

“Pussy, too, but dick is much easier to find,” you tell him in a joking way, even though it’s not a joke, “It’s just not the same alone, you know? 

“That’s absolutely true,” he chuckles, wiping his eyes as his laughter dies down, “I like you, you’re funny.”

“Hey, I like you too,” you beam, tilting your head to the side. It’s quiet for a moment as you study each other’s face through the screen conduit. You take another drag off your joint, averting your gaze to the window, then blow a thick plume of smoke towards it. 

“I have a question,” you tell him, flicking your eyes back to the screen. 

“What?” he tucks a hand under his head and lays out on his outdoor couch. 

“Do you ever have these urges to do something crazy? And, like, wonder how people around you would react?” 

“Like what?”

“Like,” you toss your head back and forth, “Like what would you do if I just took my clothes off right now, or—“

“I would die of joy, can we try that one?” he grins. 

“No,” you snort, then cover your face as it starts to heat, “It was just an example!”

“Uh huh. You came up with it really fast,” he observes, then takes a drag from his joint. 

“And you responded to it really fast,” you counter, raising an eyebrow, crushing the orange cherry of your joint into the ashtray on your knee. 

“Obviously,” Dieter scoffs and shrugs, “I would love to see you naked.” 

Your whole head is a heat lamp and your face hurts from smiling. You lick your lips and smirk, “I am very flattered. But, hear me out—”

“We both take our clothes off,” he suggests, his shoulders shaking with stifled laughter, “That’s such a good idea!”

“I am going to murder you, Dee,” you laugh, covering your face. 

“Ok, no seriously, go ahead,” he snickers, glancing over to extinguish his spent joint in an off-screen ashtray.

You sigh and pause for a beat before confessing, “I wanna scream. Like, as loud as I can.”

He smirks and opens his mouth, tilting his head to the side. 

Before he can quip a sexual innuendo and fluster you further, you explain, “I’ve felt it in my chest for so long. The scream, I mean. Like it’s just sitting in there begging to be let out. Do you know what I’m talking about? Do you ever feel like that?”

The devilish smirk on his lips falters. He nods, “Yeah, I have.”

“I want to let it out, but I’m always so scared of what my neighbors will think,” you tell him, searching his face hundreds of miles away, “And sometimes I think, what if I just said fuck it and did it? Just screamed as loud and long as I could? What would happen?”

“Well, fuck it, let’s do it,” he decides, and the camera jostles as he rises to his feet, “Let’s fuckin’ scream our little hearts out, huh? See what happens.”

You smile, “Really?”

“Fuck yeah, come on,” he says, “You gotta stand, though, really let it out.” 

“Ok,” you laugh and set your ashtray aside, then roll off your bed, pulling your laptop to the edge so he can see you standing at your window, “Ready?”

“Alright, on three,” he calls, and you wriggle your body around, trying to psych yourself up, shaking your hands out as he counts, “1, 2, 3–“

You inhale until your lungs ache, then let it out. 

The red, hot feeling of disquiet that has been restless inside your chest for months scrapes against your vocal chords, burning your throat. 

While you’re doing this, you hear Dieter through the laptop speakers, screaming in unison with you, unrestrained, primal. 

You bend over to fully expunge this guttural, animalistic noise from your body. You scream until your face is filled with blood and your heartbeat pounds in your ears. Until your throat is throbbing and your voice is hoarse. Until your lungs are empty and nothing else comes out. 

Then you turn around to the laptop, searching Dieter’s flushed face. You’re both smiling wide and wild, chests heaving. 

“That was fucking awesome,” he tells you, chuckling and shaking his head, “You did great.”

“So did you,” you grin, “Good job screaming.” 

A frantic knock sounds on your door. 

“Oh shit,” you cover your face and giggle, looking up towards the noise, “Someone’s knocking.”

“Probably making sure you’re alive,” you hear Dieter say as you carry the laptop into the kitchen. You set it on the countertop before opening the door. 

“Hi,” you answer breathlessly to the wide eyes of your next door neighbor, “I’m fine.” 

“Oh—ok, I was just making sure—”

“Yeah, I just—you know, you ever just feel like screaming?” you try to explain. 

She shakes her head and stammers, “Um, no. But—but you’re ok, right?”

“I’m perfect, it felt really good,” you tell her, and you can hear Dieter’s laughter over the laptop, “Thank you for checking on me, though. I appreciate it.” 

“Sure,” she nods, then starts to walk away, glancing back over her shoulder as she goes.

You close the door and lock it, then burst out in giggles as you go back to the laptop, seeing Dieter smiling from ear-to-ear. 

He tells you, “That was adorable.”

“That was my neighbor thinking I’ve fully fucking lost my mind,” you snort, then glance up at the the clock on your oven, “Fuck, I have to get back to work.” 

He gives you a thumbs down and jeers, “Boooooo!”

The thought of him not wanting this call to end yet makes your insides twist. You roll your eyes playfully, “It’s been lovely smoking and screaming with you.”

“Waking and baking with you has been a delight, Lua, we should do it again soon,” he smiles, running a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah?” you beam, licking your lips before asking, “Do you mean that?”

“Obviously,” he scoffs, and you’re sort of glad you can’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses when his voice softens and he tells you, “Really, Lua. I’d love to do this again. I’m not just saying that.”

“Ok,” you grin like a fool and nod, “I would love to do this again, too.” 

“I’ll let you get to it. Tell Parker I said hi give him a bit ole smooch for me, will ya?” 

“I will,” you wave,” Bye, Dee.”

He kisses his hand and presses it to the camera, then says, “Talk to you soon, doll.” 

[pashterlengkap]

My friend & I eat terrible fast-food tacos every Christmas. It’s one of our most special traditions.

One of my best friends also happens to be the friend I’ve known the longest. I met the guy in kindergarten. For more than forty-five years, Tom and I have been meeting on the evening of Christmas Day, after our families go to bed, to go for a walk. As boys, we talked about what we had just received for Christmas. Now we talk about everything else, although we always make an ironic point to briefly discuss our Christmas gifts. Related: What sleeping on a beach with fairy penguins taught me about embracing my true self Watching those penguins made me realize I was stronger than I thought. Tom is the funniest, gentlest, most interesting guy I know. Never Miss a Beat Subscribe to our daily newsletter to stay ahead of the latest LGBTQ+ political news and insights. Promotions (occasional) * Week in Good News (one on the Weekend) * Week in Review (one on the Weekend) * Daily Brief (one each weekday) * Sign Up Me and Tom, a few years back. Provided. Every year, we stay out for hours, walking roughly the same route, but we usually grab a bite to eat, too. In high school, I once gave a class presentation, “The Healthiest — and Least Healthy — Fast Food Items,” and the deep-fried tacos from Jack in the Box came in dead last. After that, Tom and I began stopping by the local Jack in the Box on Christmas Day Eve to get some of their infamous tacos. It helps that Jack in the Box is always the only restaurant open. Keep in mind, eating these tacos is also mostly ironic. They’re terrible for you, but I think they taste terrible too. But in a way, I also love their taste. To me, Jack in the Box tacos are a thing of great beauty and joy, at least on Christmas Day Eve. They represent a deep and abiding friendship. At the end of 2017, my husband, Michael, and I left America to travel the world as “digital nomads.” We’ve made it home for Christmas a few times since then, but at least half the time, we’ve been in other countries, far from family and friends. This year, for example, we’re on a Christmas cruise from Sydney, Australia, to New Zealand. Which means — to my great dismay — I will miss Tom’s and my annual Christmas Day Eve walk. Fortunately, back in the U.S., Tom will take part in the walk on his own, and he will live-stream it for me. But he won’t get a Jack in the Box taco by himself, because — let’s face it — some things are sacred. When Michael and I left America to become nomads, one of my biggest concerns was that we’d be lonely. How in the world would we meet people? After all, we’re both introverts. We quickly discovered it’s much easier to make friends outside of America. I liken expats and long-term travelers to students during their first few months at university: Everyone has been uprooted from their old social networks, so they’re very receptive to making new connections. But for Michael and me, even locals have been easy to befriend, at least once you get outside the tourist hubs. When we left America, I also worried that I’d lose touch with my existing friends back home. Ironically, nomading — and growing older — has actually strengthened many of these friendships, like the one I have with Tom. I don’t ever take these relationships for granted now. Provided An AI rendition of me and Tom on Christmas Day Eve, circa 1989. This may be why, like those terrible Jack in the Box tacos, being away from home for another Christmas leaves a vaguely bad taste in my mouth. My father died earlier this year. He was ninety-four years old, and he had expressed many times in the past few years how he had led a good life and was ready to die. The truth is, I most vividly remember him forty years ago, when he was in his mid-fifties. It was after my brother and I had grown up and left for college, but before my mother got sick and died from early-onset Alzheimer’s. Back then, my parents were both still fit and active — and so vibrant. They quickly… http://dlvr.it/T0ZzGG

[back-and-totheleft]

Monster Time

William Oliver Stone is the rare Hollywood figure who, you come to understand, probably downplays his outlandish antics in his book. “There were a few ‘Oliver Stone’ stories that I’d heard, bounced back at me, often with unbelievable outcomes,” he writes, a little prissily. He notes that a fellow screenwriter once told him that his legend had become a kind of model for other writers who wished to be seen as bad boys. Stone drily notes that at parties, “I would do something, never violent or intentionally harmful, but often outrageous, to make the moment less boring.” He withholds many of the details, which no doubt were gory (and perhaps delicious).

Less Boring would be an apt title for Stone’s memoir, but in the one he entitled Chasing The Light: Writing, Directing, and Surviving Platoon, Midnight Express, Scarface, Salvador, and the Movie Game, Stone shouts with the exuberance of a free American man — an obnoxious, abrasive loudmouth like the one played by Eric Bogosian with a buzzsaw voice in one of the director’s best films, Talk Radio (1988). As did many other Stone efforts, Talk Radio (available on Amazon Prime) took a true American story (the 1984 murder of Alan Berg, a liberal talk-show host gunned down by white supremacists) and filtered it through the director’s self-destructive passions: Bogosian’s Barry Champlain just can’t stop enraging people by shoving what he knows to be the truth in their faces. He’s a sort of lone gunfighter of the new American West, armed only with sleek, modern weapons (sarcasm, putdowns) in sleek, modern Dallas as hostile forces plot to ambush him in the night. Their weapons are more atavistic, but their goal is simply to shut his mouth.

For Stone, living loudly, nakedly, and extremely is the only way, even if it means dying extremely. Like his idol Jim Morrison, who channeled William Blake into acid rock, Stone is an archetypal Sixties Romantic (“Nothing was sacred — it was all possible — we were all going to ‘break on through to the other side,’” he writes) who places subjective feeling over objective fact and seeks elevated truths by burrowing into lived experience. Hence his accomplished career as a drug user; drugs cut you off from the distraction of external reality and help you bore down into yourself.

All of this is why I wouldn’t trust Stone to accurately report the score of a baseball game. As Gabriel Seidl once wrote of Beethoven, “He feels through his mind, he thinks through his heart.” But Stone serves what he sees as the truth. Late in the book, he discovers that the story that became his Oscar-winning script for Midnight Express (1978), which was first told to him as “hapless American kid smuggles a tiny amount of hashish to pay for college” (the amount in question was actually two kilos), was not what he thought it was. Billy Hayes, the subject of the film, laughingly told Stone many years later that he wasn’t busted until his fourth smuggling run, and though discarding inconvenient facts to make a better story is Hollywood S.O.P., Stone was hurt by the revelation. Midnight Express would almost certainly never have been made if Hayes had told Stone the truth beforehand, which might in turn have cost Stone his career — the movie became an out-of-the-box sensation just two years after he arrived in Hollywood. But instead of shrugging off Hayes’s after-the-fact admission, he’s genuinely upset that he was conned into participating in a lie, seeing himself as a weapon of truth in dangerous circumstances. Despised Cassandras are everywhere in Stone’s pictures, from Tom Cruise’s Ron Kovic in Born on the Fourth of July to Kevin Costner’s Jim Garrison in JFK to Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s Snowden.

Though Stone has worked with and known many famous people, his book (which ends after his third directorial effort, Platoon, wins the Best Picture Oscar) is almost entirely inward-facing; there are very few “as I told my good friend Laurence Olivier”-style anecdotes. Olivier, though, does pop up, in a funny second-hand way, as the source of the most perfect distillation of acting, relayed to Stone by Frank Langella: “Look at me. Look at me — that’s my bloody motivation!”

Chasing the Light is a study in Stone’s fears, his frustrations, and his addictions, as he tries to put his obsessions on the screen for us to share. Throughout his career, he has composed in his own brutal, vulgar, ostentatious key, scolds be damned: “The hell with good taste!” he writes. A recurrent phrase in his book — he heard it many times from people to whom he pitched his scripts — is “too much.” Too much sex, too much violence, too much everything. It took a while for the industry to grasp that, as the Eighties roared forth, “too much” could be the raison d’être of a highly successful filmmaker. Stone started to attract allies who loved the idea of going too far, such as the gonzo San Francisco journalist Richard Boyle, who would be played by the gonzo actor James Woods in Salvador. (Woods stole the role from Martin Sheen, who was originally cast, by telling Stone that Sheen’s wariness of the profanity in the script would result in “another bull**** Hollywood picture.”) As Stone was struggling to get Salvador made after his only previous directorial effort — a piece about a murderous, creeping appendage called The Hand — occasioned more laughs than screams, producer John Daly told the director, eyes twinkling, “I hope you live up to your reputation.” What he meant, Stone writes, is “be who you are, ‘the lunatic.’ . . . John was saying, ‘I want that Oliver, not their Oliver.’”

Stone’s matter-of-factness about his many mistakes makes for lots of dryly funny episodes. He once held a pound of heroin in his closet for friends, for instance. He doesn’t remember his 1981 wedding because he was high on marijuana, quaaludes, and cocaine during the ceremony. He notes that Gore Vidal once proposed a three-way tryst with Stone and Mick Jagger. On a Scarface research trip to Bimini to chat with some wealthy gentlemen who just happened to have a lot of theoretical knowledge about how one might go about sneaking cocaine into Miami, Stone unwisely mentioned a defense attorney he knew. The lawyer had once been a prosecutor, and the mention of his name made Stone’s interlocutors wonder if their new friend might perhaps be an undercover agent. The fellows excused themselves to discuss the matter in the men’s room, and Stone believed he was about to be tortured and fed to the gators. As dicey as it was to research, though, Scarface turned out to be useful in surprising ways: When Stone went to beg right-wing Central American government officials for help making Salvador, his leftist follow-up, their affinity for vigorous anti-communist Tony Montana made them incorrectly think the director was ideologically simpatico. (It helped that Stone whipped up a phony two-page treatment that suggested Salvador was a film about brave right-wing governments battling despicable Commie insurgents.)

Stone refers to his and his wife Elizabeth’s cocaine-defined years (as opposed to later ones, when he clarifies that he merely used the drug “socially”) as “monster time.” He was formed in a painful time for America, from the assassination of JFK and on through Vietnam, the shattering of Sixties idols, and Watergate, and he covered it all in his films. Did he engage with his subjects accurately? No, but I think he was honest about what he felt about them: panic, outrage, excitement, desperation, and anguish. He felt he had lived through America’s monster time, and set about sharing his sense of horror with as much operatic gusto as he could.

-Kyle Smith, "Monster Time: The Cinema of Oliver Stone," National Review, Mar 8 2021 [x]

[tombeane-blog]

Sweepings From The Cutting Room Floor

March 2023

Ideas bore into my head and gnaw at me, demanding that I stretch them into a blog.  So I spend a few days gnawing back at them.

Often, I realize they will never become blogs - they are too stupid or they aren't stupid enough or the timing isn't right or there's just not enough there there.

Occasionally, Vern reminds me that if I post that thing I will get a visit from some seedy divorce lawyer.

So they end up on the cutting room floor.

I got around to sweeping them up today and because I'm in a grumpy mood here they are:

=========================

I'm 80 years old and like all 80 year olds, I know one thing....... Today's Current Popular Music Sucks Biggly.  

OK, I'll admit that my parent's generation thought that Elvis' hip gyrations were too dangerous for fragile young teenage girls.  

They felt that Sally, Suzy and Cindy were already emotionally unhinged from raging hormones, and, coupled with their naturally delicate feminine psyches it would push them over the edge.

Witnessing Elvis would drive them into a sex crazed frenzy and cause a nationwide baby boom. (Hoping they might be right, I gyrated my hips...... unfortunately, nothing.)

Probably every generation feels the same about most of the music that comes after their own. 

But what is different now, at this time, and this place, is that  IT......IS.......TRUE.

In early 2030 - you will no doubt find on the Internet one of those ubiquitous lists titled "The 50 Best Songs Of The Past Decade".

There will only be 7 songs on that list.  

I feel I'm being generous here.

=========================

As we begin to deal with another Cold, Covid and Flu season, I was trying to think of the benefits of mild illnesses.

Like staying home and having your spouse wait on you hand and foot without being able to complain about it. 

"Another beer honey?  I need to keep my fluids up."

Or, "I'd love to come to your 4 year old son's birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese but I'm thinking I may be coming down with the (cough cough)Covid (cough)".

How about, "For weeks after Covid destroys my sense of smell and taste, my wife's cooking seems to improve." (drdrdrdrdrdrdrdrdr - drum roll please!)

(Totally off the topic but I'm on a roll here.)

"....When we were a young family just starting out, I always knew when dinner was ready - the smoke alarm would go off." (drdrdrdrdrdrdrdrdr - I'm here all week folks!)

Vern just whispered, "Tom, WTF?  Are you insane?  You can't write that."

"I hear you Vern, but Rodney Dangerfield would've loved to have had those one-liners and there's freedom of artiastic expression or something - it's in the Constitution."

=========================

My wife and I were visiting another couple many years ago and chatting about married life and husbands versus wives and the rules governing the battle of the sexes.  

My friend's wife said, "I'm really annoyed that every time I wash a load of clothes I have to reverse all of your inside-out socks."

My friend responded in a calm, problem solving and husbandly helpful way, "Well honey, if you would be a little more careful when you are taking my socks off, you wouldn't have that problem."

Strangely enough, they divorced some time later.

=========================

There's that Ad you see on TV 87 times a day to sign up for a lawsuit against the U.S. Marines.   Got me thinking.  

So I'm starting a Go-Fund-Me page with a goal of $6.7 million dollars.  I will use it to hire the nation's top law firm, i.e., Dewey, Suem and Howe to start my own class action lawsuit.

I'm not sure what I'm going to call it yet but I do know what your TV will be shouting at you 87 times a day... 

"DID YOU SERVE ON THE U.S.S. LUCE (DLG-7) OR THE U.S.S. ROOSEVELT (CVA-42) DURING THE YEARS 1961 TO 1967?"

"DID YOU PARTICIPATE IN A MED CRUISE OR A WESTPAC CRUISE DURING YOUR SERVICE ABOARD?"

" IF, AS A RESULT, YOU STILL SUFFER LINGERING POST LIBERTY HANGOVER EFFECTS (PLHE) YOU MAY BE ELIGIBLE FOR A SIGNIFICANT UNMERITED PAYOUT!"

So join me.  It's simple.  Just send me $1,000 $5,000 $10,000 - whatever you can afford.  I'll put you on a list.

=========================

[icemankazansky]

Honestly, they should just give Val Kilmer every nom for best SUPPORTING actor. He facilitates THAT SCENE so hard for Tom Cruise to give one of his best emotional performance I haven't seen in such a long long long time. As someone who haven't watched Top Gun (even though I own the soundtrack 😂 since forever) and going in the movies blind, I was not prepared to have all those Ice/Mav feel!

You are 100% correct, my anonymous friend! The amount of work Val did in that scene while barely saying anything was absolutely incredible. He portrayed Ice with nothing but expression and movement, and he showed the deep connection Ice and Maverick have forged, and he gave Tom the space and the framework to open up and let Maverick be so vulnerable. Their moment together is a standout in a film full of impressive moments, and I think it's a credit to both actors.

(Also, I encourage you to watch the original Top Gun, because there are so many more Icemav feelings you could be having.)

[sinematically]

🪄thoughts on Dr Strange: Multiverse of Madness🪄 long post and will contain spoilers under the read more

Disclaimer: I enjoyed the movie but this somewhat review will contain some major criticisms.

When Martin Scorsese said MCU films aren’t real cinema, and the MCU fans consume films like one would enjoy a theme park. I don’t think he’s wrong but I don’t fully agree with him either, but, MoM is the best example (if there was any). I’m not sure how to properly put this into words. I’ll give it a few days to see if I can do this thought justice. But know that I genuinely think MoM is the best example for this opinion.

Goddamn that plot was MESSY. Three act structure whomst???? (Extremely derogatory). My film studies teacher would have destroyed that script, gave it a D- and a whole month to rework it because that’s how much time it would need. There’s a Lad Bible interview Cumberbatch and Olsen did. They were describing how often things would change, how the morning of the shoot they would get brand new info. It’s very evident in the pacing of the movie.

MoM would need a 6-episode show, with 45-60 whole minute per ep, to fully do justice to the characters. The lack of character development, or effective character development was a little sad. The pacing is my biggest issues with this movie because they’re just bringing in SO many things into one film when they cannot afford that rn

It’s basically a horror movie in a lot of ways. It was visually stunning and absolutely lovely in so many ways. The music!! (And that fight scene w the music ohmygod) I love it.

Spoilers here on out.

Dr Strange, sir, I’m sorry this wasn’t your movie. Literally so many things happened, I wish I got to see how you processed the snap and the “dust for 5 years” thing. I’m glad you gave us a better quote to express love I love you 3000 was kinda ????, (like a friend said, it’s superior). “I’d love you in any universe” was wonderful (and I might get the exact wording wrong, sue me, I’m still drunk)

WONG MY BELOVED. You deserve to be Sorcerer Supreme!! Ur amazing and can do no wrong. Beloved <3

America Chavez!! You’re super cool and I cannot wait to see the cool shit you do. But also, I’m going to acknowledge that they’re brining a new character without putting in the work? To me it seems like they introduced her with no personality and a tragic back story. Do MCU women have any real backstory other than “a tragic event thats entirely (female characters) fault or something they should feel shame/take blame for?”

Replacing Irondad-Spiderson with a Strange & Chavez, Father-Daughter relationship I see. It’s cute, fanfics will be fun. Can’t wait to block the inevitable ship name.

Christine, I’m glad that in every universe, you’re prioritising yourself and your sanity instead of dating a man too afraid to be vulnerable. Good for you, girl!!

WANDA. I have so many thoughts!! You might get your own post??? She’s so powerful, I love it. Even though I think it was a horrible way to show her power, watching her destroy the Illuminati was awesome. The whole bit where she used her Intelligence and the reflections was a 11/10 better way to show her formidable nature. I think there’s some major cognitive dissonance in her motives. If she knows that she can create her own world through sheer emotions, then why would she need to go to another universe??? If you’re telling me she feels guilt, and that’s why she won’t hurt the humans on earth-616, then how do you explain her being ok with taking away another Wanda’s babies for herself? Anyway. Thinking thoughts. Feel free to explain I guess? Idk.

The fucking Illuminati!!!!!!!!!! This is a whole thing bro

First of all, REED RICHARDS??? THEY KEPT KRASINSKI’S CASTING HIDDEN?? Alleged Tom Cruise was a fucking phenomenal distraction, I’m in AWE. Andrew Garfield could NEVER!!!! Everyone else on that cast list we had strong inklings but ufh Mr. Fantastic that was GG as fuck. (Also I think I read Tom Cruise and Haley Attwell were dating so maybe the whole Tom Cruise Ironman came from him visiting her on set? Idk)

Now to shit on it.

You’re telling me the smartest man in their universe, Who voted on killing their Strange for Dreamwalking the darkhold magic, didn’t anticipate Scarlet Witch’s power????? Even if he did anticipate it, why would you tell her about Black Bolt’s power!!! God that was DUMB. Good to see u Mr. Jim Kraskinski but you deserve to be noodle string cheesed. The fam service is great tho, and I really hope we see Kraskinski-Blunt and Evans in a new Fantastic 4 movie

CAPTAIN CARTER I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!!! Thank you for not bringing Steve into her narrative in any way what so ever. Thank you for the “I can do this all day” It’s lovely!!!! She’s Amazing and strong, but like I said killing her off was just meh move. I like that you did it that way? But idk,,, I want to see more of her so maybe Marvel will listen to their fans again and give us more!!!

Black Bolt, why did I think Ben Affleck played you?? You died in a super fucked up way and honestly, thank you for that. Your death was refreshing and will scar at least one (1) child, and idk if that’s a good thing but, parents definitely need to adhere to the movie ratings on this one.

PROFESSOR X!! I love you, I missed you, you were dressed like your husband (Mr. Magneto) when you died why was that??? I hate that Wanda killed you but I missed you. So much. I love you.

CAP MARVEL MARIA YOUR AWESOME but I wanna see more of you also if ur Cap then where Carol and did you still have a kid? What happened?? I wanna see more!!!!!!

Okay I think that’s mostly it. Closing notes, could do better, y’all threw character development out of the window. Randomly introducing new powers, characters and strengths is a little weak in terms of writing. Employee foreshadowing instead of expecting your fans to watch over 20 hours of content. It was good but you could do a lot better.

I will not watch it in the movies again, and I watch NWH like 3 times full priced tix.

[houseofbrat]

22 December 2023:

Rebecca English and Camilla Tominey & Hannah Furness post stories regarding Will & Kate making an official visit to Italy but won't visit the Pope.

25 December 2023:

Kate attends the Christmas Day service in Sandringham with the BRF, including George, Charlotte, & Louis.

28 December 2023:

On twitter:

29 December 2023:

Kensington Palace posts 2023 montage on instagram and twitter.

09 January 2024:

Buckingham Palace posts tweet wishing Kate a Happy Birthday.

William uses Kensington Palace twitter to acknowledge the passing of JPR Williams.

10 January 2024:

Russell Myers has an "exclusive" regarding Will & Kate's military trip to Europe in February 2024.

11 January 2024:

William travels to hand out CBEs to Rob Burrow and Kevin Sinfield.

16 January 2024:

Kate is (allegedly) admitted to The London Clinic on this day.

17 January 2024:

KP announces Kate had successful "planned abdominal surgery" the day prior.

Buckingham Palace announces King Charles will be treated for a “benign prostate condition.”

18 January 2024:

William is photographed leaving The London Clinic.

20 January 2024:

Spanish journalist Concha Calleja says that Kate was hospitalized on 28 December 2023.

20 January 2024:

Roya Nikkhah reported that Kate's 30 charities & patronages were not notified until one week before her surgery regarding future engagements.

24 January 2024:

People magazine: "Within their broader circle of family friends, there had been no indication that anything was wrong, and the carefully guarded news about Kate’s situation came as a surprise even to those who work closely with the royal family, PEOPLE understands."

The Mirror published a story saying "The Princess of Wales "could be your best friend one minute" and "your worst enemy" the next, according to a royal expert."

Later changed to be a story about Prince Harry.

25 January 2024:

Matt Wilkinson & Harry Goodwin of The Sun report that William has visited Kate in the hospital every day while George, Charlotte, & Louis see their mom, Kate, via FaceTime.

26 January 2024:

King Charles visited Kate while she was in The London Clinic after he was admitted for his BPH procedure. Queen Camilla visits The King in the hospital.

27 January 2024:

Queen Camilla photographed visiting King Charles at The London Clinic.

28 January 2024:

Queen Camilla photographed visiting King Charles at The London Clinic.

Spanish journalist Concha Calleja says Kate is in a coma.

29 January 2024:

Kate leaves The London Clinic but is not photographed leaving. William is not photographed at The London Clinic. Kate's personal assistant is photographed driving away from The London Clinic with a large bouquet in the passenger's seat.

Statement issued by Kensington Palace.

King Charles is discharged from The London Clinic.

01 February 2024:

Kate Mansey & Simon Hunter of The Times report that an unnamed Kensington Palace spokesperson deny Concha Calleja's claim that Kate is in a coma.

02 February 2024:

Concha Calleja stands by her "coma" story.

05 February 2024:

Buckingham Palace announces that King Charles has cancer, the specific diagnosis has not been revealed as of today.

James Sweetnam & Matt Jackson of Express quote an "expert" that says Kate could take up to nine months to recover.

06 February 2024:

King Charles & Queen Camilla photographed leaving Clarence House.

07 February 2024:

Prince Harry flies to UK to see King Charles.

James Middleton shares a video of his family in the Alps on instagram.

Prince William does his first engagement, an investiture, since Kate's announced hospitalization.

William attends the London Air Ambulance Charity gala with Tom Cruise. “I’d like to take this opportunity to say thank you, also, for the kind messages of support for Catherine and for my father, especially in recent days. It means a great deal to us all.”

09 February 2024:

Richard Eden reports Will & Kate and kids travel to Anmer Hall in Sandringham for half-term break.

10 February 2024:

Buckingham Palace posts a thank-you message from King Charles.

11 February 2024:

King Charles & Queen Camilla are photographed attending church in Sandringham. No photos of Will, Kate, or their children attending church.

13 February 2024:

Photos of Pippa (Middleton) Matthews vacationing with her husband, James, and children in St. Barts hit the Daily Mail.

King Charles & Queen Camilla arrive back in London at Clarence House.

16 February 2024:

Writer Gareth Russell posts on Facebook that Kate has been seen outside at Sandringham, and no one took a picture.

17 February 2024:

Richard Eden on twitter:

oh, did it, Richard?

18 February 2024

King Charles & Queen Camilla attend church in Sandringham.

Prince William attends the BAFTAs.

19 February 2024:

School begins again at Lambrook for George, Charlotte, and Louis.

20 February 2024:

William, The Prince of Wales, releases a statement regarding Gaza and the Middle East.

21 February 2024:

King Charles meets with Prime Minister Rishi Sunak at Buckingham Palace.

Photo exclusive of Pippa and her children in St Barts for the Daily Mail.

23 February 2024:

Video of King Charles reading get-well cards from well wishers released.

27 February 2024:

William pulls out of King Constantine II of Greece's service of thanksgiving at Windsor.

Buckingham Palace announces the death of Thomas Kingston, husband of Lady Gabriella Windsor. William's absence was not related.

28 February 2024:

A Kensington Palace spokesperson addresses the “wild conspiracy theories” about Kate in a statement to The Sun: “We were very clear from the outset that the Princess of Wales was out until after Easter and Kensington Palace would only be providing updates when something was significant.”

29 February 2024:

Page Six: Kate Middleton’s team is speaking out in light of the conspiracy theories swirling about the Princess of Wales’ whereabouts following her abdominal surgery in January.

“Kensington Palace made it clear in January the timelines of the princess’ recovery and we’d only be providing significant updates,” her rep tells Page Six exclusively. “That guidance stands.”

The flak reiterates that Middleton, 42, is “doing well.”

ET Online: Earlier this week when it was revealed William would be missing his godfather's memorial service, the Palace told ET that Kate, who underwent abdominal surgery in January, continues to be "doing well." But with the speculation only intensifying, the Palace released another statement to ET on Thursday.  

"We gave guidance two days ago that the Princess of Wales continues to be doing well," the statement reads. "As we have been clear since our initial statement in January, we shall not be providing a running commentary or providing daily updates."

Tom Sykes of The Daily Beast: A former royal staffer who still has friends and contacts inside the palace said, “Anyone who expects the palace to suddenly start giving lengthy updates on Kate will be disappointed. The principal aim of her being sequestered is to guard her privacy. I’m sure the press hate it because it is working. There is a really, really small bubble of people who know exactly what is going on.”

Prince William visited a central London synagogue, where Kate had been scheduled to visit on Holocaust Remembrance Day (27 Jan 2024).

Jan Moir on Prince William: One day soon he will be the head of the nation, a focus for national identity, unity and pride. So maybe he should stop behaving like a celebrity flake and reign in that impervious attitude along with his indulgent fondness for obsessive secrecy. If this is a sign of what is to come when he ascends the throne, it is very worrying one.

Tom Bower says Kate's condition is more serious than has been reported previously.

01 March 2024:

Prince William ignores a "How's Catherine?" question from someone at Wrexham during his St. David's Day visit to Wales.

Thomas Kingston's death revealed to be "catastrophic head injury" due to gunshot, i.e. suicide.

Victoria Murphy writes in Town & Country about the UK's Editor's Code of Practice prohibiting writing about the lack of information available to the public regarding The Princess of Wales's condition.

02 March 2024:

Roya Nikkhah reports Queen Camilla's annual March time-off as a sudden vacation instead of a regularly scheduled annual break she always takes at this time of year.

04 March 2024:

TMZ & Backgrid establish proof of life of The Princess of Wales and her mother.

UK media is pressured by Kensington Palace to *NOT* publish the photographs in the UK, even though everyone else in the world can see them online.

05 March 2024:

Richard Palmer notes that there is no legal reason why the pictures of Carole and Kate cannot be published due to them being on a public road.

The British Army is forced by Kensington Palace to amend their Trooping the Colour once the UK media started circulating stories about Kate's appearance in June, which is two months after Easter.

Dominic Ponsford in the (UK) Press Gazette wrote about the media blackout regarding Carole & Kate's driving pictures.

Kate's uncle Gary Goldsmith briefly comments on the lack of Kate information on Celebrity Big Brother.

06 March 2024

King Charles has a meeting with the Canadian PM and officially greets two ambassadors.

Kensington Palace "spokesman" to (US) People magazine: "His focus is on his work and not on social media," a spokesman says.

Normal people on reddit notice this bullshit and comment on it:

Emily Andrews comments on the "invisible contract" between UK media and Kensington Palace:

London's Air Ambulance Charity, whose gala benefit William attended on 07 February 2024, announced they did not receive enough government support.

08 March 2024:

King Charles photographed in a car on Windsor Castle grounds.

Prince William demonstrates proof of life when he visits The Oval in support of for-profit company, Notpla, and seaweed.

<The End, for now>

Other sources: Twitter: effoff1988 and Ellie Hall's timeline.

[fallingfavourites]

Footnote -Nancy Wheeler x reader

Summary: your in love with your best friend but she has a boyfriend and you aren't even sure if she returns the feelings that you have for her

Word count: 1,8k

CW/TW: implied fem!reader, but she/her pronouns isn't used, no use of y/n, brief description of puking/vomiting, underage drinking?? Im not sure how old they were in s2, small hint of internalized homophobia I think, probably shitty writing, maybe some ooc Nancy or Steve I'm not sure

A/n: yes I do have a few request laying in my inbox but I suddenly got inspired to write this at around 1am and I finished it around 4am. Also it's crazy how little Nancy fics there are heh

Inspired by: Footnote by Conan Gray and S2 E2

Gif credit: @strangrthings

Nancy had been dating Steve ‘the hair' Harrington for awhile now. You and Steve weren’t exactly friends. It wasn’t necessarily because he was a total douche a year ago. No it was because he was dating your best friend. They weren’t right for each other you knew that. They were in a total different state of mind and you just wished Nancy would see what you see.

As you were parking your car you noticed there were already quite a lot of people. Only going to Tina's Halloween party hadn’t initially been on your planning. Party’s have never really been your scene. This time your best friend Nancy Wheeler had somehow convinced you to come. And if you were being honest you would do anything for Nancy if she just asked.

With your head being too busy being occupied by Nancy’s relationship it had totally slipped your mind that this was a costume party. You look down at your clothes trying to figure out if you looked like a character from a movie you had seen recently. Suddenly you remembered that last week Nancy had forced you to rewatch Grease with her. And you realise your outfit sort of resembled the outfit Sandy wears at the end of the movie. Lucky you.

Walking into the living room your eyes immediately scan across the room trying to find Nancy. A small smile creeped on your lips as you realised she was dressed as Lana from Risky Business. She hadn’t shut up about that movie since she had seen it. Oh and don’t even get started on her Tom Cruise poster.

You automatically had started walking towards her. Not even noticing Steve who was standing next to her. You were a few steps away as she walked right past you. Your head followed the brunette as she walked away. Suddenly you bump into something hard. As you look up you realise you walked right into Steve.

“Oh shit, sorry.” You apologized to him. It was hard to see Steve’s expression since he was wearing sunglasses but you were almost sure you saw his eyes roll. “Where did Nance go?” You questioned, your face furrowed in confusion.

“I might have convinced her to just be stupid teenagers for the night and now she is probably somewhere getting sheet faced.” He informed you with a tired sigh.“Are you an idiot Harrington?” You remarked, “You know what, don’t answer that. Should i go look for Nance before she gets to drunk?”

Steve noticed the sincere concern you had for Nancy. Steve noticed the way you would look at her instead of the movie the three of you were watching. Steve noticed your protectiveness over her. Steve noticed the smile and twinkle in your eye when someone mentioned her name. Steve noticed the way you would change all your plans if Nancy just asked you to do so. Steve noticed everything but he always just convinced himself that those things were all best friend things.

“No, no don’t worry I’ll look after her you go have fun!” He exclaimed after stumbling over his first few words. You rolled your eyes as Steve jogged away before you could respond. You weren’t here to have fun you were here for Nancy. After scanning the crowd for Nancy or Steve you couldn’t find either of them. Letting out a sigh you decided you might just take Steve up on having fun. A little booze never hurt anyone.

By now you were well on your sixth.. or no maybe it was your seventh cup. You couldn’t really be bothered either way. Suddenly you see a beautiful girl in a black and white top coming your way. She has gorgeous short brown hair. And as if the girl couldn’t get prettier she looks just like your Nancy.

“Hey! I’m so happy you came!” A voice that sounded as sweet as honey yelled out above the music. Suddenly it hits you. This girl doesn’t just look like your Nancy, this girl is your Nancy. “Nance!” you exclaimed as you wrapped your arms around her.

You couldn’t help but smell the flowery parfume she wore. The sweet smell made you want to keep breathing it in forever. Nancy catched on pretty quickly that you were way past tipsy at this point. She grabbed your hand and guided you as you stumbled to the bathroom. When you both entered she closed the door, the music from outside could only softly be heard and there hanged a comfortable silence in the air.

You leaned against the bathroom sink while she leaned against the door. The two of you both looked up at each other at the same time and both of you broke out in a smile. However that smile quickly turned upside down for you as you began to gag.

Quickly you rushed to the toilet and you felt Nancy already holding whatever hair would fall in your face. Quickly flushing the toilet when your done you couldn’t help but grimace as you leaned your head against the cold tiles of the bathroom. The disgusting taste of vomit still lingering in your mouth.

Nancy was quick to get you a glass of water which you accepted gratefully as she sat down next to you on the floor. “You feeling okay?” She asked as you took a sip of your water. “I like you” You blurted out.

You didn’t know where it came from, maybe it was the alcohol that was in your system. After the words you were struggling to come to terms with what just slipped past your lips, you didn’t dare to look up at Nancy. After a few moments of silence Nancy stood up. “Sober up.” She mumbled as she looked down at you.

Somehow you found the courage to look up at her, “Nance I’m not just saying it ‘cause I’m drunk.” You told her. “You know I’m dating Steve.” Nancy reminded, if it wasn’t for the alcohol in you you might’ve noticed that she was more reminding herself than that she was reminding you.

“What if I waited for you Nance?” You questioned maybe a bit to hopeful as you stood up and placed the water on the sink. “Would that maybe help?” You asked as you reached out for her hand. Just as your hand brushes hers, she quickly pulls it back. “I’m sorry, I can’t.” Nancy stuttered out as she walks out the bathroom door.

You just ruined it. You just ruined everything. A few tears escaped past your lashes. You turn around and lean with your hands against the sink. You catch your own eyes in the dirty mirror. Your mascara has run out, your eyes looked red, you looked like a mess. You wipe the few tears that hadn’t fallen of your face yet and in doing so you smudged your make-up even more.

Opening the bathroom door you hoped no-one would be able to see your face and as quickly as you could you made your way outside. You opened your car door and sat down while burying your head in your hands. You dont quite know how long you sat there like that but a sudden and rappid knocking snapped you right back into reality.

As you rolled down your car window you notice Steve Harrington standing in front of you. “Hey, I can’t find my car keys can you drop me off at my house?” He asks, tiredness very clear in his voice. At first you were about to say no, but then you thought about what Nancy would want you to do. She wouldn’t want you to leave Steve out here in the cold.

So you nodded and mumbled ‘sure'. He gave a small but grateful smile and walked around the car to get into the passenger seat. You started your car and you turned down the volume of your radio so it wouldn’t be to bothering. Because of pure coincidence you had to stop around a street light and exactly at that moment Steve glanced at you.

From the corner of your eye it was clear he noticed your messed up make-up. “Hey, you.. uhm.. you alright?” He asked clearly not wanting to overstep any boundaries. “It’s just Na-" You shook your head and let out a sigh, “It’s just nothing really.” You corrected yourself not taking your eyes of the road. After a silent drive that felt like hours you finally reached his house.

You parked your car half on the sidewalk so he could get out easily. As Steve is about to open his door he pauses. “I think me and Nancy broke up.” He blurts out. Your head shoots his way with a confused look on your face. “After she came back from the bathroom she got like pretty drunk, then we got into a fight and she called our relationship bullshit and basically said she didn’t love me.” He explained.

“oh wow” Is all I can seem to mumble out. “oh wow really? Thats all you have to say?” He complains. “Well yeah, what did you expect me to say after you dump all of that on me?!” I exclaim as I throw my arms in defeat. After that it’s quiet for a bit.

As you focus your eyes on the hands in your lap you debate on telling Steve about what happened between you and Nancy tonight. As you toy with your fingers you can feel Steve’s piercing eyes staring at you. He’s clearly figured out you want to say something. “Me.. Me and Nancy.. I told her I liked her..” You struggled with your words.

Not sure how Steve would react to them. After a minute of silence or so, you feel the tears threatening to fall again. This is stupid earlier this night you disliked Steve and just now you told him something you couldn’t even tell your parents. “Oh..” Is all he seemed to be able to mumble out. “Oh? Really thats all you have to say?” You complain as your voice quivers.

“Well yeah, what did you expect me to say after you dump all of that on me.” He joked with a smirk on his face. You can’t help but roll your eyes at him. “How did she react?” He questioned, his tone more serious now. “I don’t really know, she only really said that she was dating you, which is not true anymore I think, but besides that I don’t think she likes me back.” You respond with a saddened smile on your lips.

Steve bumps your shoulder with his shoulder and cracks a smile, “Hey, I’ve seen the way you care about her and how you would do anything for her, so that’s her loss.” You can’t help but let a smile slip on your face. Steve gives you a small nod and opens his car door and you send him a quick wave.

You started your car again and drove home while your thoughts wouldn’t leave you alone. Does Nancy hate you? Could you still be friends after such a confession? Did her and Steve break up because of what you told her? The questions wouldn’t stop plaguing your head.