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snarkwrites · 4 years ago

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02 pt 2 | m i n e | tim speedle | csi miami

Notes:

I’m not even gonna lie... This chapter took several turns on me. Several. I wanted to post this a day ago, but something felt.. Incomplete. Amiss. Then it clicked as I wrote the smutty oneshot for these two so I banged this out. Any errors in grammar are mine and I own that shit. We fly blind in this house, no betas.

I hope you guys are all enjoying this so far!! It’s been a fun time to write. I think that’s largely due to the fact that it’s kind of..action-y, suspense and still fluff and romance eventually?

Summary:

You never forget the one that gets away. When Sylvie and Tim are thrown together again upon her arrival in Miami, will things finally work themselves out? Can Tim keep her out of danger?

Pairing:

Tim Speedle x OFC, Sylvie.

Warnings:

Stalker tw. Huge stalker tw. Because Sylvie has herself one. There may or may not also be other crime related topics raised here, such as injury/blood, etc.. I’ll try to warn as they come, loves. I’m going to try not to be too graphic so that people can still read this, but given the way this has surprised me thus far, I make absolutely no promises as to what the future holds.

Other Parts:

[ one - two part one - soundtrack ]

Tagging:

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@twistnet

Other Links:

[ faq & tag list doc ]

TWO PT TWO

The wind in my hair, the Florida sun beating down on me and Billy Idol on the radio full blast. I almost felt relaxed as I drove aimlessly along the Keys. I could almost forget for a few moments that I was currently being stalked by some unknown asshole who liked to write me ten page letters detailing his disturbingly vivid fantasies about me. Bragging about what he’d do when he finally managed to get me all alone.

I was coming back from an open air flea market, the spoils of my trip flung carelessly into the backseat. In my cupholder, my cell phone started going berserk. When I saw that it was Rex calling me, probably pissed because I’d stood up a gig he spent two weeks booking after I explicitly told him I wasn’t taking said gig in as many different but firm ways possible, I let it go to voicemail.

The gas needle was getting lower and bearing the thought in mind, I pulled into a little gas station, parking the red Porsche at the pump and reaching down, grabbing my clutch. Taking my card out to swipe at the pump.

I felt eyes on me and almost immediately, I tensed. My eyes darted around and they settled on a man two pumps over. Gaping at me.

I managed a tight smile, a little nod. Because I didn’t want to seem rude, but the way he was staring at me had me immediately getting paranoid all over again. And just like that, my earlier good mood was rapidly vanishing. I sighed and reached for the unleaded pump, inserting the nozzle into the Porsche’s fuel tank opening. Swiping my card and waiting. Tapping my foot because the clerk inside the station wasn’t even paying attention and the man two pumps over was now leaned against his silver BMW, arms folded over his chest, watching me like a hawk.

I realized that I wasn’t going to get away from the situation any faster unless I made my way inside to let the clerk know I needed the pump turned on, so I grabbed my cropped jacket and slipped the hood over my head and pocketed my keys after raising the convertible top on the Porsche, ducking my head as I quickly walked right past the staring man and disappeared inside the station.

“I need you to turn on pump 3.”

“Yeah, let me do that. I’m so sorry. Do you know that guy?” the clerk nodded towards the man who’d been staring at me. I shook my head. “Never seen him before in my life.”

,, he kind of resembles Rex. It’s unsettling.” the thought came but I shoved it out. The little I knew about Rex, he didn’t have any family. The man was far too selfish for that.

“He’s lurking around your car. You might want to stay in here.” the woman said it in a concerned tone that caught me by surprise.

I swallowed hard, taking a few deep breaths. I could feel the panic starting to build just a little more. I tried to convince myself that maybe the man was just someone who had seen one of my ads or something. Trying to make myself ignore the weird vacant look in baby blue eyes as they roamed over my body, like he was enjoying his view. Way too much. It was almost lewd.

My eyes settled on my Porsche and I gulped when I saw him walking around it, kind of trying to covertly peer in. I took a few deep breaths. Maybe he was just a fan. Maybe Rex was right, maybe I really am paranoid. ,, with every good reason to be, hello, ten page explicit letters? Last month in Paris when the stalker writing said letters actually tried to grab me?”

The woman behind the counter gave me a sympathetic smile and shook her head. “I’ll go wrangle up my husband Clay. He’s real big, looks mean as hell. Maybe we can get this man outta here and you back on the road, okay, dear?”

I nodded, thanking her. Grateful.

She disappeared to the little garage attached to the back of the station and minutes later, a very tall and menacing looking man wearing a local MC’s cutte stepped out. “We’ll have him outta your hair in no time, hon. You just wait right here with the little missus and don’t worry, alright?”

I nodded, again, grateful.

“ The world’s gone insane these days, I swear.” the clerk spoke up after a few seconds. I don’t know what her husband said to the man with the staring problem, but a few seconds later, all I could see of that silver BMW was it’s tail lights as it made a hasty retreat, going the opposite way that I had to go to leave and that knowledge only relaxed me.

After thanking them both again, I hurried out of the station and got into my car, just thankful to be getting back on the road again. My cell phone showed 3 missed calls. All from Rex. None of which I had any interest at all in taking.

Almost the instant my hotel came into view I relaxed. But only slightly.

Rex was pacing the parking lot, glaring at me when I parked the Porsche and killed the engine.

“Where the entire fuck were you, dollface? I told you specifically, the meeting to discuss the gig I got ya was 8 am sharp.”

“And I told you I wasn’t taking it.”

I side-stepped him and after grabbing my bags from the backseat, I made my way into the hotel and up to my room. Dumping off all my stuff. Digging through one of the shopping bags until I found the red bikini I’d gotten on a whim.

Once I had that on and I’d found a pair of cut offs and a cropped shirt to go over it, I grabbed my phone and the book I’ve been reading and I made my way out the back of the hotel. Wandered down the street until the smells from a local diner wafted to my nose, lingering on the air and reminding me exactly how long it had been since I truly indulged myself.

I wandered in and up to the counter.

And when I heard his laugh from somewhere closer to the back, I found my gaze wandering around the diner.

Settling on Tim.

His back was turned to me. But even without looking at him, I knew it was him. It had to be. I haven’t forgotten the sound of his laugh.

I froze for enough time that the cashier cleared their throat. “Did you know what you wanted to order?”

“I think I’ll actually go grab a booth. If that’s okay?”

The cashier nodded and grabbed a menu for me and I turned, scoping out the diner.

The booth right behind Tim was empty. Did I dare sit there?

My heart was pounding, about to beat right out of my chest. Just like this morning at the gas station, but different.

Excited.

Hopeful, even though I knew in my bones I had no cause to be. Too much time had passed.

Steeling myself, I slunk right past the table Tim and two other men were sitting at, sitting down at the booth of the empty table directly behind his.

I buried my eyes in the menu, pretending to be engrossed. Ordering a soda when one of the servers came around. Then on a whim, ordering the double cheeseburger and a large plate of fries.

And I gazed out the window.. Heart still pounding. Trying to figure out whether or not to say anything. Did I have the right to?

XXX

Almost as soon as the blonde wandered in off the streets, Eric spotted her and nearly choked on his soda. Knowing how the fact that she was in town and it was eating Speed alive was probably the only reason he took it easy on the guy, choosing not to point her out. But his staring so intently at the front of the diner drew Tim and Walter’s attention, and naturally, Tim turned around.

He went quiet, words trailing off mid-sentence.

Eric cleared his throat. “There she is, man.”

“I fucking saw her, Delko, I’m not blind.” Tim muttered, taking a deep breath. It felt like the wind got knocked right out of him. Like slamming into a wall full speed. Everything around him just froze and all he could do was watch her. When she glanced their direction, he looked away quickly. Pretending to laugh, to be caught up in conversation.

Painfully aware of her presence, he gripped the edge of the tabletop. Walter cleared his throat as Sylvie started to make her way right towards them.

“She’s walking towards that table behind us.”

“If you don’t say something, Speed, I swear to God.” Eric muttered. Tim shook his head.

He didn’t even know where to start, for one thing.

She’d settled in the seat right in his line of vision. She was literally almost close enough to touch if he were to stand up and walk over, sit down on the bench opposite the one she currently sat on. But Tim was frozen.

“Ryan was saying that stalker’s still an issue earlier.”

Eric mentioning it had Tim’s eyes darting around the diner. Just wanting to be sure she was okay and that no one followed her in.

Tim took a deep breath.

“One of you has to say somethin, man. This is stupid. Tell him, Walter.”

“Eric makes a good point.” Walter muttered, gazing at Tim. But Tim was totally dazed. Watching her as covertly as possible.

And then, he thought back on the last time he’d seen her.

The day he left New York to take the job here.

“You know what, Delko? You’re absolutely right… But fuck if I know where to even begin.”

“You walk over, sit down and say hi. Pretend like you’re not sure it’s her if it helps, buddy.” Eric shrugged as he dispensed the advice. “Otherwise, Walter and I are gonna shove you into the booth when we all get up to go.”

Tim took a deep breath and stood. Making his way over to her table.

Right past her. Towards the bathroom.

Eric grumbled and shook his head. Walter chuckled, amused by the whole thing.

As Tim came into sight again, Eric watched intently. He’d moved to Tim’s vacant spot, finishing off as many fries as he could, chuckling to himself, shit eating grin on his face as he nodded to the table Sylvie happened to be sitting at.

Tim glared at him.

But he kept walking.

Right as he went to walk past her booth, Eric saw her hand shoot out. Wrap carefully around Tim’s wrist. Effectively freezing Tim in place.

“I didn’t see that comin.”

“Neither did I, man.” Walter mused, taking the final sip of his milkshake as he and Eric shared a look and both got up, leaving Tim behind.

XXX

I’d seen him walk past. For a few seconds, my heart raced. I pouted to myself as he kept going… Not even a glance my way. Disappearing into the bathroom.

I’d pretty much resigned myself to him not noticing me, but then I saw him walk out of the bathroom and knowing he was close enough to touch was too much for me. I snapped. I reached out, tentatively grabbing his wrist.

“Tim?”

“Sylvie?” he raised his other hand and dragged his fingers through his hair. I managed a smile, took a sip of my soda. “You can sit. I mean if you want to..” I trailed off, going quiet.

Heart still a little fluttery.

Not sure at all what I was going to do now that I’d gotten his attention.

,, it’s been years. Ease back into this. There’s a lot of old stuff there, things that didn’t get said. Hurt.” the thought lingered heavily in my mind.

I honestly didn’t think he’d sit down, but he did. My food came and the waitress put it all out on the table in front of me. I inhaled the greasy deliciousness and smiled a little, thanking her as she walked away, my drink in hand to refill it.

Tim eyed my order.

“You realize that’s 3 pieces of meat.. And a ton of grease.”

“Mhm. And I’m about to practically inhale every single bite, okay?”

Tim chuckled, smiling. Muttering something to himself about some things never changing.

“When did you get to Miami? I didn’t even know you were in town.”

“Last week, I think. It was supposed to be my vacation. My manager didn’t get the memo so I’m hiding from the asshole right now.” I frowned, shrugging. Reaching out to grab a few french fries. I pushed the plate closer to him.

“Is this where you get lunch every day?”

“Sometimes, yeah.” Tim shrugged. “The view of the beach is kinda calming. Plus, the cook’s a good friend of Eric’s.”

My eyes wandered out, gazing at the beachfront view in question.

“It’s been a long time.” I muttered, gazing at him. He nodded. Mouth opening and closing like he wanted to say something and then he just didn’t.

“Too long.” I continued, taking a huge bite of my burger almost immediately after having said it.

I was dying to tell him I missed him. That I still loved him, that at least twice a week I found myself either re reading our old texts or dialing his number only to hang up just before hitting the call button.

But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

“It has been too long.” Tim admitted, snagging himself a few more fries. “How long are you in town?”

“I’m actually going to talk to an agent about a beach house tomorrow? It’s just… So much more relaxed here. Plus there’s a school hiring…”

Tim eyed me.

“Thought you were happy with that whole modeling thing?”

I shook my head. “Honestly?”

“I’d prefer it.” Tim answered as soon as I asked.

I took another sip of my Pepsi and answered quietly, “I’ve been miserable for a while now, actually.”

His next question had me nearly choking on the sip I’d taken. “The stalker situation, right?”

I gazed at him and he explained with a shrug, “It was all over the news. Not to mention our moms are always on the phone callin each other.”

“And then us.” I gave a soft laugh. Taking a deep breath, I nodded yes to answer what he’d asked about my situation. “It started before that though. I never actually wanted to get involved with this but then I started and the money…” I trailed off.

“Yeah. I mean I don’t blame ya.” Tim shrugged, going quiet.

The tension settled in all around us. Thick to the point I felt like you could cut the way it lingered with a knife.

“I hate to but I gotta get back to the lab…” Tim spoke up after a few minutes of us just sort of sitting there… staring at each other, deep in thought. He stood and I asked quietly, “Would it be okay if I called you later? Is your number still the same?”

“I’d like that. Yeah.. you know me. Predictable. My number’s still the same.” he gave me that smile and I felt myself smiling back, nodding.

“Maybe you can show me around sometime…” I trailed off because there I went.. Rushing in all over again. I took a deep breath, making myself meet his gaze. Fully prepared to laugh it off and say that he didn’t have to.

Tim chuckled, nodding. “I was about to say that. I see you’re still a mind reader, baby girl.”

“Just yours, Speed.” I wanted to kick myself because the words left my mouth just a shade too flirty.

And I knew it was much too soon for that.

XXX

“Now who in the hell is he?” the man stood outside the diner, leaned against one of the streetlamps. Watching Sylvie intently through the window as she talked to some guy inside the diner.

When the guy sat down at her booth, his blood began to boil. His hands clenched to fists at his sides and he gave an angry laugh, shaking his head.

“Now this just won’t do. Not at all. Nothin’s comin between me and her. Nothin.”

#tim speedle fanfiction #tim speedle imagine #tim speedle fanfic #tim speedle imagines #my writing ; tim speedle #my fanfiction ; tim speedle #my fics ; tim speedle #// this took a turn on me ya'll not even gonna lie #// stalker tw #// these two need to just get their shit together i swear to god

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 4 years ago

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hey! so, i've been a huge fan of your writing for a while now. you always offer me so much inspiration within your stories, i absolutely love your ability bring life to all the characters and settings you write about. and idk if you're still accepting requests for your otp mix n' match challenge, nor if you'd even consider doing this request haha, but- could i perhaps request 15 & 11? i am super interested in potentially seeing what your take on my personal otp would be! much love either way

Hi, this has been in my drafts for like.... forever. Since April or May, I think? Oh boy. My apologies, I completely forgot about it until I stumbled across it today. But hey, better now than never, I suppose. Also thank you for your kinds words! I truly appreciate it! :D

“Louis and Mitch pretend to date to make others jealous but you know what happens.”

Read on AO3

This is a joke.

This is a joke and he’s the butt of it.

How did the fuck did he end up here?

Mitch knows this has to be a joke because Louis did not go through this much effort for it to not be a joke.

The remaining fries on the plate have gone cold, mushy beneath the squirt of bright cheddar cheese. Walter’s Diner has the best fries in this hellhole of a town, and usually, they’re the first thing he chows down before finishing his burger or even touching his shake.

Fuck. Fucking hell.

It’s hard to concentrate on and enjoy his food with Louis’ arm behind his neck, hand casually resting over Mitch’s shoulder as he and Violet argue whether they should order a basket of donut holes or four slices of peach pie for dessert.

“They’re stuffed,” Violet says, pointing at the menu, reading, “‘Our bite-sized delights are baked to perfection, stuffed with our delicious cream cheese filling, and tossed in a heavenly mixture of cinnamon and sugar.’ And you’re telling me that doesn’t sound good?”

“And you’re telling me that a slice of Walter’s famous peach pie doesn’t make your mouth water?” Louis sighs. “I’m salivating just thinking about it.”

Violet wrinkles her nose.

“Peach pie sucks.”

“You suck.”

“C’mon guys,” Aasim butts in, eyes rolling in that exasperated way he gets whenever Louis and Violet do this. “Donuts suck, pie sucks, and you both suck. Let’s order ice cream.”

With a hand pressed against his chest, Louis lets out his fakest, most dramatic gasp. Next comes the obnoxious- and probably offensive- British accent.

“Why, my dear Mitch, Violet, did you hear what this lickspittle just said to us?”

Violet’s last tater tot goes flying as a response, bouncing off Aasim’s nose.

“Are you serious?” Aasim snatches the tater tot back up, throwing it at Louis.

“Hey! Rude!” Louis laughs, his arm slipping out from behind Mitch to try and catch the tot. “What did I do?”

Without a thought, Mitch grabs the offending tot and tosses it back at Aasim, who catches it and lets it drop onto his plate.

“Knock it off, guys,” he says. “It shouldn’t take this long to decide on a dessert. I vote pie.”

That makes Louis smile.

“Ah, a man after my own heart,” he sighs, shifting closer against Mitch’s side- Jesus Christ almighty- and pressing quick kiss against his cheek.

Fuck everything. Fuck, fuck-

This causes Mitch to suck in a breath, only to cover it up by coughing into his sleeve. God, his face is going to melt off, especially if Louis keeps looking at him like that.

“That’s not a surprise,” Violet rolls her eyes, ignoring the kiss and Mitch’s coughing fit. “He sucks, too.”

“Can’t we just agree that we all suck?” Louis says.

“Can’t you ever shut your pie hole?”

“Can’t we all just order different desserts?” Aasim pleads, finger jabbing at the menu on the table to emphasize his point.

Louis and Violet look at one another, puzzled as if that idea never occurred to them. At this point, Mitch didn’t even care about dessert, didn’t really even want any.

Louis shifts and there’s the warm, distracting press of his knee against his and Mitch has never been so tense in his entire life.

He's too fucking close. Too close. Too close. And he kissed him. On the cheek, sure, but fucking hell-

Never has he felt such tension in his body, even when something obnoxiously embarrassing passes his father’s mouth, or when Willy’s fingers slip from the branches of whatever tree he’s climbing and he almost plummets to the ground.

He doesn’t know what’s worse: the fact that Aasim won’t stop gawking at them every time they do anything, or that Louis is fucking comfortable doing the things that make Aasim gawk in the first place.

This whole thing is nothing but a cruel joke that Mitch was stupid enough to take the bait for.

And for what? A promise of Louis buying him lunch every day for a month? Was a free meal every day worth this level of anxiety and... gross feelings?

“Fine,” says Violet. “I’ll eat a whole basket myself, but don’t any of you dare eyeball them. You had your chance.”

“I won’t eyeball your donuts if you don’t eyeball my pie.”

“I won’t because pie sucks.”

“You suck!”

“Oh my god,” Aasim abruptly twists around, desperately tapping on the shoulder of a now startled waitress. “Two slices of peach pie, a basket of donuts holes, and an ice cream cone to go. Please. I want to go home.”

The waitress stares at him, baffled, before nodding and getting away from their table as quickly as possible.

Louis chuckles, arm slipping back behind Mitch as he says, “I think she likes you.”

“Shut up!” Aasim frowns. “I swear to god...”

Louis continues to laugh, but he steals a glance at Mitch. Something softens and it’s... Mitch doesn’t know what the fuck it is. Ever since they started this, sometimes Louis will look at him like that.

From what he can tell, Louis doesn’t even look at the girl like that, and she’s the entire reason they’re doing this.

That girl- what the fuck’s her name? He couldn’t have possibly tuned Louis out every time he mentions her- the redhead from his art class or whatever. She’s the one who started this bullshit.

About a month ago, Louis wrote him a note detailing, “I need your help. Meet me by the school entrance during lunch? It’s important,” while they’re in the middle of a pop quiz. As if Mitch didn’t have enough to worry about with all the damn fractions scattering the quiz, but then he was left worry about what the hell Louis needed his help with.

Also, he did this without Mr. Garcia noticing. How the fuck that’s possible is beyond him. If they were caught, both of their quizzes would’ve been ripped to shreds. Mitch didn’t need that shit right now.

Then, the entrance was barely in sight by the time Louis snuck up on him, grabbed his arm, and proceeded to drag him outside and across the parking lot so they could hop into the safety of Mitch’s hand-me-down truck despite Mitch’s protests. He hadn’t cleaned his truck of its fast-food wrappers or loose sheets of forgotten homework in weeks, and that left him worried that the air freshener didn’t work.

Finally, Louis managed to explain this so-called plan of his to Mitch with a straight face, not cracking once. He actually sounds serious enough that Mitch might’ve believed him if this bullshit wasn’t so... so bullshit.

“I really like her,” Louis had said, “and Violet said this kind of thing could get her attention.”

Of course, Mitch didn’t agree so easily because the plan was- nd still is- stupid.

“You think pretending to date me is gonna get her attention?” he scoffed. “I’m not fucking doing this. Ask Vi.”

“I can’t ask Vi. She doesn’t date dudes and I’m pretty sure Brody would, like, break me in half or something.”

“Fine, Aasim then.”

“C’mon, you know Aasim would never.”

“Well,” Mitch threw his hands up. “I would never! Find someone else because I’m not gonna be your fake boyfriend so that you can make what’s-her-nut jealous!”

Jokes on him- Mitch’s been Louis’ fake boyfriend for weeks now because he hasn’t wooed what’s-her-nut yet. Which wasn’t that the whole point? They just pretend while she’s around? Not when they’re alone or when hanging out with Violet and Aasim?

Louis said it was to make it as real as possible, just in case what’s-her-nut found out. That doesn’t explain why Louis is the way he is when it’s just the two of them. Doesn’t explain the kiss on the cheek.

Mitch eats a cold fry, cringing at the taste. He can feel Violet looking at him while Louis goes on about something that happened in choir. When Mitch meets her eye, she smirks, raising a knowing brow. Mitch gives her a light kick under the table.

When the waitress finally brings them their dessert in separate bags, she doesn’t stick around long and avoids eye contact with Aasim.

“Hey, Vi,” Louis leans over her shoulder as they’re leaving the diner, “Can I have a donut hole?”

“I will stab you, your boyfriend, and your pie.”

“Hey, not my pie!” Louis grabs Mitch’s hand, knocking his shoulder into his. “Or my Mitch!”

Fucking hell.

Mitch doesn’t know how much longer he can handle this.

#twdgmixchallenge #twdg louis #twdg mitch #twdg violet #twdg aasim #twdg louitch #“Louis and Mitch pretend to date to make others jealous but you know what happens.”#it's been forever since i've done one of these #holy shit #i'm gonna barely edit it because it'll never get posted if i try to edit it #that's just who i am #hahaha #sorry it took forever but here ya go #it's been in my drafts since like... april i think #yeesh.... haha #i'm bad at what i do don't mind me #asks

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coll2mitts · 4 years ago

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#67 Muppets Most Wanted (2014)

"We're sorry, Kermit. We're sorry we didn't notice you were missing. We're sorry we didn't tell you often enough how much you mean to all of us. We're sorry we ever took you for granted. But, that’s never going to happen again... Kermit, we convinced ourselves that evil frog was you because he gave us what we thought we wanted. When what we really wanted... What we really needed... Was you, Kermit. The actual, real you."

After The Muppets, I was fully prepared to eat my own shoes instead of watch this movie. My only motivation was the light at the end of the tunnel. Much like the Genie at the end of Aladdin, I would have fulfilled my end of the bargain and finally be freed from having to watch any more Muppet movies ever again. But something unlikely happened... They began The Muppets Most Wanted admitting their fans at the end of The Muppets were paid extras. They were transparent about a sequel being a not-as-good cash grab. The opening number was referential to the original sequel, The Great Muppet Caper, but the lyrics were self-aware, self-deprecating and peak Muppet.

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I’ll even go on record as liking this movie a great deal. I was able to forgive the product placement, the obligatory Disney references, the pop songs, and the 7000 cameos because this movie felt like... an apology? Like they had watched the last movie and realized it was hollow, and the spirit of Kermit was steamrolled by their desperation to emotionally connect to the audience.

True to Muppet fashion, their opening number states the stakes of the movie, Ricky Gervais (...ugh) approaches The Muppets with the idea of managing them during a World Tour. Kermit, being a level-headed frog, is hesitant to sign with someone named Dominic Badguy, and doesn’t want to rush into something new without establishing a proper show beforehand. Striking while the iron is hot with your new IP is not enough of a reason to rush out a project.

Kermit is eventually persuaded to hire Dominic, but books a series of smaller venues to ease them into the swing of things.

“Looks like they put the reviews up early!” “Yeah, or is that the suggestion box?”

The Muppets are disappointed by this, and are easily swayed by Dominic to bet big and rent extremely large venues under the assumption they will sell out their shows and make the money back. Kermit is against this at first (voting for “just giving up” instead of “believing in themselves”), but he goes along with the group because he was outnumbered. The content of the show is also a point of contention, as Kermit suggests they play to their strengths, because if the show isn’t successful, they might not have jobs after the tour. This concern is also brushed off, as Dominic tells Gonzo sure, bulls running around the stage sounds like a great idea, the magnetic bomb-attractor vest will be a useful invention, and Miss Piggy should be singing 4 or 5 Celine Dion classics a night.

While Kermit is disappointed, Dominic tells him to take a walk in East Berlin to clear his mind. We then find out this is a setup to kidnap Kermit and send him to a Siberian Gulag so Dominic and the The Most Dangerous Frog in the World can schedule The Muppets to perform in venues directly next to museums that hold clues and trinkets that will assist them in stealing the Crown Jewels.

Much like The Great Muppet Caper, this movie revolves around case of mistaken identity between bad frog Constantine and good frog Kermit, with their only differentiating feature being a mole on Constantine’s face. After Kermit is kidnapped, Constantine assumes his identity, and although Constantine has a Russian accent and speaks in Muppet one-liners, he’s covered his mole in green grease paint, so the cast has no idea anything is amiss.

As artifacts go missing, Sam Eagle from the CIA and Jean Pierre Napoleon from Interpol are on the case! They dislike each other at first, as everything Sam Eagle does is comically overstated and American, while everything Jean Pierre does is comically understated and European. They gradually come to respect each other, connect the dots, and determine The Muppets... are too stupid to perform a series of heists.

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Meanwhile, Kermit is having a hard time acclimating to prison life. Nadja, the prison warden, played Tina Fey (with a really terrible accent, which I can’t tell is supposed to be terrible as a gag, or it just is?) thwarts all his attempts to escape. Kermit grows to accept he is stuck in the Gulag and his friends are not going to come and rescue him. To distract him, Nadja puts him in charge of the annual lighthearted Gulag Review, and Kermit’s practice with wrangling the Muppets make him perfect for the job of wrangling hardened criminals, like The Prison King (Jemaine Clement), Big Papa (Ray Liotta) and Danny Trejo (Danny Trejo).

Walter is suspicious something strange is going on with their tour, because he seems to be the only Muppet with critical thinking skills. He shadows Dominic and finds him bribing Robert Crawley to post good reviews of “The Muppet Show” and pay people to put butts in seats. When Walter informs Fozzie, he laments they didn’t think of doing that before, but when Walter suggests that Constantine may have replaced Kermit...

They strike out to find Kermit so he can restore order to this entire debacle, but he’s now neck deep in Gulag Review rehearsals. Even when his friends show up and convince him he needs to leave, Nadja is hesitant to let him go because she’s formed a mild attachment to him.

They stage a breakout during one of the Gulag Review musical numbers, which just happens to be about working in a coal mine, equip with pick axes that dig everyone out of the prison and to safety.

While they were gone, Miss Piggy begins to suspect something is off with “Kermit”, especially since he seemed OK with Fozzie and Walter leaving the show. In an attempt to pacify her, “Kermit” escalates his affection toward her until it, of course, all culminates in a wedding between Bad Frog and Miss Piggy, even though the last time the Real Kermit spoke with her, they got in a massive fight about her obsession with planning a wedding when he hadn’t even proposed yet. "Kermit” also books The Tower of London as the wedding venue, so Dominic can use the artifacts they’ve stolen to steal the Crown Jewels while everyone else is distracted.

The wedding does not go as planned, though, as Good Frog Kermit shows up and prevents Miss Piggy from marrying the wrong guy. Upon being found out, Constantine decides to drop one more Muppet one-liner before blowing the place to smithereens. Much like Chekhov’s gun, Professor Honeydew’s magnetic bomb-attractor vest aids the Muppets in discovering that Miss Piggy’s engagement ring IS the bomb, and Beaker, who is wearing the vest, is launched out the window, saving The Muppets and all their wedding guests.

Dominic and Constantine try to get away in a helicopter, but Piggy kicks the shit out of Constantine, because again, Piggy’s violence solves every problem in the Muppet universe. With the bad guys captured, the Muppets apologize to Kermit for ignoring his concerns about the tour, and not noticing he was gone. The decide to continue the tour, but first, they will play the Siberian Gulag as a favor to Nadja.

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And the big climax at the end... fireworks. In the shape of the Muppets.

The original songs are excellent again, because Bret McKenzie is excellent. They do have a few non-original songs, but they aid the plot this time instead of just being included for whatever fucking reason (with one notable exception, as there is no excuse for “Moves like Jagger”). The Gulag review auditions used these the best, because seeing a prison full of men sing “End of the Road” is fairly comical, and is only topped by the entire reenactment of A Chorus Line’s “I Hope I Get It”, including a costume change that involves “Gulag” crop-tops.

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The best hybrid of pop references and original jams is “Something So Right”, which actually made me cry, until Celine Dion appeared and hammed it up. Her diva energy in this movie was just perfect - I loved seeing her and Miss Piggy belt out a song while Rowlf was playing a grand piano.

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Speaking of cameos, I feel like they service the movie a lot better than The Muppets. Everyone outside of the celebrity guests on the tour were playing some sort of part, instead of just showing up and answering a phone and talking about how famous they are. Josh Groban sang from inside a metal box several times, and you only see his face for maybe 2 seconds at the end of the movie, which make it clear he just wanted to be involved. Seeing Ray Liotta and Danny Trejo singing and dancing so earnestly made me roll my eyes again at the thought of Sarah Silverman handing Amy Adams a menu and Selena Gomez telling Kermit doesn’t even know who the Muppets are.

The guests on stage were utilized well, with Christoph Waltz dancing the waltz in Berlin, Saoirse Ronan dancing a ballet in Dublin, and Salma Hayek, who is famously Mexican, getting run over by bulls in Madrid. At least the Macarena is from Spain... lord help them.

The Muppet spirit of Muppets Most Wanted is so drastically different than The Muppets to me, and I’m trying to pinpoint why that is. Perhaps it was shifting the focus to the Muppets themselves in the story instead of attention being pulled to Walter and his brother and his brother’s girlfriend’s story arc. Or maybe it was because the plot of this movie was referential to the previous Muppet movies, instead of reusing sections of the plot of the older movies to fill out the runtime. Or maybe it was because this movie was fun, instead of the miserable time everyone in The Muppets was having, crushed under the weight of their potential failure. Or maybe it was because they didn’t end this movie hoisting the Walt Disney puppet over their shoulders while an entire street of people cheer on their new corporate overlord. Whatever it is, this movie is leaps and bounds better than the other.

This concludes Muppet Week! I have consumed more Muppet content in the last few months than I have in my entire life. The Muppets are cherished for a reason, with their ability to ride the line between comedy and emotional sincerity. Their film catalog has increasingly skewed more family-friendly as time has gone on, and they certainly have leaned more toward comedy instead of Gonzo quietly singing about dreams on the side of the road. I haven’t watched either reboot television show yet, and I need a break from Muppet content for a while, so I’ll hold off on my opinions there. But, I love The Muppets, and I hope Disney continues to honor Jim Henson’s legacy with their work.

And with that, I’ll leave you with Kermit and Dolly Parton singing “Everyday People” on The Dolly Show, because I so badly wanted to include this somewhere and didn’t have the opportunity.

#unwarranted opinion #100 best musical movies of all time rotten tomatoes

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luckylq30-blog · 4 years ago

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punkscowardschampions · 5 years ago

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Tommy & Meena

Tommy: All my tutus better be accounted for, like Meena: 😅 Meena: Not to engage in the bitchy showbiz stereotype Meena: but your size is not the size of the 3-7s Meena: and I don't need to rock one from the sidelines, sadly Meena: I did ask Tommy: Calling me fat & not inviting me out for juice? Oh it be like that, yeah? Meena: Never! Meena: The totally casual impromptu photoshoot would have you believe I had longer than 5 minutes to neck it down, I know Tommy: Not even in there with the 3-7s & already a savage Tommy: good luck to 'em Tommy: None to you Tommy: Who hasn't sacrificed their final mins to look fabulous? Standard, full supported fare Meena: They are hilarious Meena: some of them are SO serious though, reminds me of you Tommy: I could fire the same call out back at you Tommy: not least 'cause you're teaching in the holibobs Meena: How could it possibly be a call out? Meena: you'd have to be to get into the school you did Meena: I'm only teaching for the same reasons I 🩰 in the first place, for fun Meena: that's 🤓 at best Tommy: We started claws out Tommy: but I'll play nice & tell you to break a leg Tommy: just don't let the kids have too much fun, be a health & safety nightmare 🦺🤓 Meena: 😱 Meena: remind me never to be in the play-that-shall-not-be-named with you (as if), 'cos you'll be dropping the M 💣 like it's no thing Meena: as long as they look cute for their ma's and none of them cry, I think I get a 🥇 Meena: just a favour for Anne honestly, who has overstretched herself (not an awful pun, I 🤞) as per Tommy: Tights are a given for 🤩👏🌹 but my mastery of a Scots accent less so Tommy: I'll drop the M word like it's a 🔪🩸 to distract from my flaws, no problem Tommy: my sister witches & I love a curse Tommy: Oh dear Anne 😔 Meena: Are you more of a 🌈 or a 🐀 man? Meena: Yes, I noticed, there were some definite signs of voodoo in their room Meena: her daughter is meant to help her out now she's older but she never does 🤷 Tommy: 😂 is that a trick question? Tommy: Gutted I haven't found a club called the 🌈 passage yet Meena: 😳 Nooooo Meena: ew, what would 🐀 man even entail, gross Tommy: I mean, I've been asked if I'm a friend of Dorothy in loads of ways but now that's my new fave Tommy: I don't reckon you're ready for 🐀 man, maybe work up to it from 🐁 boy Meena: Oh God 😰 If only I was that witty and not just a nerd 😅 Meena: very nutcracker Tommy: Don't make your 📚🖋 sound 💀 dull before I've even read one Tommy: Julie Andrews would not approve Tommy: Witty & pretty & bright Tommy: it's the only way Meena: It's not Shakespeare Meena: so that's either a 👍 or a 👎 depending upon your literary persuasion Meena: not 🌈 Meena: though arguably 🐀men and 🐁boys hate the bard, well known fact so Meena: The thought of letting her down is 😿 Tommy: Loads of people find Shakespeare confusing Tommy: I like good, strong words that mean something Tommy: & I don't reckon they'd let 👑 Julie down, she seems like she'd be a fan herself Meena: Even if my plots get a little too convoluted or my dialogue doesn't quite reach passing for reality Meena: it's no Tudor English or iambic pentameter so 🥇 Tommy: 'Course you can take it as a win if you don't need a full glossary in the back Meena: or modern translation on the next page Meena: that'd be a sick burn Tommy: My ma needs a Scouse to understandable English translation hanging over her head Tommy: but you'll know that as you've been round Meena: I think I've got the basics down Meena: or she makes it more basic when she talks to me Tommy: Or she lays it on thick for me 'cause every dialect coach wants me to talk posh London as the starting line Meena: is sabotage mum cooler than stage mum? Tommy: probably depends how she feels about curses & broken legs Tommy: but it's a fresher take at least Meena: at least if you do, it's not her 💸 down the drain, just your time and effort Tommy: means I've got the basics down too, like Tommy: not her hard earned cash Tommy: never that Meena: Her basics are more fun that Ana's Meena: not saying a whole lot Tommy: she could have the good grace to be your step ma if she was gonna be so wicked Tommy: can't get the tropes these days Meena: she's not get the green paint out levels of bad Meena: the chores are cinderella levels Meena: but it's a big house and I'm grateful Tommy: Elphaba is well complex & a gay icon, neither of which Ana can claim Tommy: her wickedness & descent into insanity are totally understandable when you unlock her tragic backstory Meena: I'm just saying, don't get to work on the mini farmhouse to drop on her head Tommy: 🥱🙄 Meena: oh right, you're far too cool to do ANYTHING with your holiday now Meena: not even set decorating Meena: 🥱🙄 Tommy: is that a burn or is it the glare of my ⭐dom? I can't tell tbh Tommy: it isn't the heat of the Irish summer that's for damn sure Meena: you're strictly lead roles only now? Meena: oh, how you've changed Tommy: I'll never turn down a 👻 my ma & weird sisters would kill me Meena: so method Meena: I'll take tree #2 at this point Tommy: You'd be an amazing tree #2 Meena: *graceful bow of my branches* Tommy: you always were the best at keeping your révérence in character while the rest of us were over the 🌜 to be done Tommy: I expect nothing less Meena: even if that's a case or rose-tinted 🕶 Meena: *of Meena: I'm about everything being a little more pink Tommy: I can't decide if it's less hurtful being called a blind 🐁 or fat 🐀 Tommy: I'll get back to you Meena: At the risk of calling you sensitive...it's either that or I've got really rude in my old age 😅 Tommy: Both would be the rosiest Meena: 😊 Tommy: 🧠 Meena: Squidgy Tommy: if you want something to sink your 🦷🦷 into Tommy: 👛 Tommy: still pink Meena: Yours too? Tommy: Yeah Tommy: you don't own the 🩰👑 aesthetic Meena: This town ain't big enough for the both of us Meena: 🤠🔫 Tommy: Lend me those joggers and I'll lay down my weapons Meena: Sharing clothes should not still be an option Tommy: if you wanna keep body shaming Tommy: but there's no other real reason why not Meena: I'm talking my neverending growth spurts, not yours Tommy: measurements please Meena: am I not a lady? Tommy: are you? not for me to say Meena: I'm 5'10 1/2 Meena: too tall to pair in all the ways Tommy: not with me, honey Meena: You're old, too Meena: 🕞 for a lot of boys in my year to hit puberty 🙄 Tommy: I ain't thrown my back out yet, cheers very much Tommy: love the confidence Meena: wise old 🦉 eating all the blind 🐁 and fat 🐀 Tommy: the innuendos 🖋 themselves Tommy: love an old predatory 🌈 stereotype too Meena: okay, you're not THAT old Tommy: my 🦴 & 🦷 tell a story Meena: and what a 📚🖋 it shall be Tommy: don't get me started on my 👀 sight Tommy: look like an 👴 & I'll sound like one yelling at a ☁ Meena: thank god for contacts Meena: or being your partner would have been much scarier Tommy: I could do those old routines with my eyes closed Meena: Me too Meena: and backwards #humblebrag Tommy: 😏 Meena: stealing Ginger's words there, sadly Tommy: there's no such thing as an original idea, yeah? Tommy: what I go with when it's time to do choreo Meena: preach it and I won't feel as much of a fraud Tommy: You'll have been to church more recently than I have Tommy: it's her thing, right? 🙏 Meena: Being Catholic is not exclusively HER thing Meena: but she is remarkably good at it, yes Meena: 🎨 Tommy: not in this town or with that attitude Tommy: are you even 🍀 if you don't out devout each other tbh? Meena: she isn't even Meena: Brazilian and better than you 😘 Tommy: Again, not with that attitude Tommy: she's lived here years, like Meena: So has your Ma Meena: she's about as 🍀 Tommy: She's basically 💍 to one & doesn't possess the 🌈 urge to merge Tommy: it's stubbornness Meena: 🙏 to the choir Tommy: 🍻 Meena: didn't steal any of your beers, thank you Meena: just had a juice Tommy: We'd be having this out face to face if you had Meena: father's son Meena: I get it Tommy: ❌🥊 ✔🩰 Meena: that's definitely not original Meena: 😿 Meena: life story = stolen Tommy: Anne's no Julie Walters Tommy: but I've played him as a kid in the 🎶 Meena: Rude Meena: she 🚬 as much Tommy: Still? Tommy: ☠ Meena: Of course Meena: she doesn't try to have it out the window during classes anymore though, so that's progress Tommy: Talk about rose tinted Tommy: such good memories those Meena: They're the only ones I've got so Meena: I think so Tommy: When she has you back next, tell her that in this house we swear by 🚭 patches Tommy: might save a life Tommy: & give you a chance to make some more decent memories Meena: Noted Meena: I make memories just fine now Meena: but you only get one childhood Tommy: Peter Pan just made me 😢 anyway Tommy: What the fuck is that ending? Meena: The one we all get Meena: they told you in the first line Meena: All children, except one, grow up ✨ Tommy: No need to keep it in the family like that though Tommy: Fly though another window, Peter you heartbreaker Meena: The reason he showed up in the first place was to hear Wendy's stories about him Meena: she knew what she was doing telling her daughter about him Tommy: You go ahead & pass yours down but I'm just saying, I won't be encouraging my kids to run off with my first love Meena: No, silly Meena: she wanted him to come for HER, she thought she could still fly, still go with him Meena: she grew up without noticing, by accident, she didn't mean to Meena: that's why it's 😢 Tommy: Like I said Tommy: didn't need it girlsplained Meena: Do when you don't get it Tommy: Everyone knows she wanted Peter to come back for her Tommy: the thirst was real Meena: You're just being childish on purpose now Tommy: I'm saying probably don't let your kid go off with him when you know the same thing's gonna happen Tommy: that's bad parenting, like Meena: She doesn't regret it happening Meena: just because all children have to become adults doesn't mean deny them of the wonders of childhood, idiot Meena: get Jane on accounting instead of having adventures in Neverland, okay Meena: SUCH a Mr Darling, you, I had NO idea Tommy: Or get her a lad she can grow up along side & not have to 😢 at the window for Tommy: it don't have to be Neverland or bust Meena: Yes it does, he IS childhood, you don't get to take it or him with you Meena: Wendy took all the lost boys back with her, that didn't make her miss Peter any less Tommy: Our dog was a shit nanny I did alright out of it still Meena: Well, my brother was worse so I win Tommy: 'Cause I was your hot boy at the window Meena: Something like that Tommy: feels like flying to me Meena: When you remember. When you can. When it works. It's that easy. Tommy: I mean, it's less catchy than just do it ✔ but I don't hate it Meena: Take it up with Neil and Nike Tommy: crusades are for term time Meena: no cardboard sword or shield for you then Tommy: If I can't stab anyone with it, I don't want it Meena: okay, psycho Meena: no need to go that far to prove you've changed from the boy in the window Tommy: 😂 Tommy: if I have to be on stage, gimme a decent prop Tommy: not much to ask Meena: ... Meena: #diva Tommy: #reluctantboardtreader Tommy: Ro's a better actress & Ali's a better singer Tommy: I need something to mess about with to keep me standing still Meena: it must be rough, having talented sisters Meena: one thing I can't accuse Drew of Tommy: Nah, like you said, only get the one childhood Tommy: it made mine loads better Meena: Cute 😊 Tommy: Don't need to tell you Tommy: you know 'em as well as I do Meena: Yeah Meena: well enough that there's no need to disagree Tommy: feel free to hit me with a cardboard sword if you're gutted Meena: My insecurities in my own abilities don't make me lash out 👅 or 👊 Meena: could make a thinly-veiled reference to you in a story though so, consider yourself warned Tommy: other people are safe from mine, so there's no warning needed for you Tommy: not gonna challenge you to a dance off Meena: not in your holidays Meena: gotta rest Tommy: There'd be fuck all point doing it in term time Tommy: in a virtual one you could easily blame the lag Meena: You calling me a cheat? Tommy: pointing out how effortlessly you could Meena: You're meant to say I wouldn't need to Tommy: I don't need to say that Meena: Rude Tommy: It's a compliment Tommy: we both know you wouldn't need to cheat & even if you did, you wouldn't anyway Meena: Yes, but it was rude you weren't gonna say it Meena: but now you have so ha 😊 Tommy: Says you who wants me to rest up all hols like an 👴 Meena: You said it first, actually Tommy: Where? Meena: you called me out for working in the holidays Meena: which implies you ain't Tommy: what so if I ain't teaching I have to be resting? Tommy: oh please Meena: what are you doing? Meena: didn't 👀 you Tommy: [a selfie from wherever he's taken Rocky cos that's what I like to think he's doing since he wasn't there] Meena: figures Meena: almost definitely would've 👂 him Tommy: Yeah Tommy: my 🎧 only do so much Meena: He's so cute though Tommy: it's the 🦇👂 Meena: and the freckles Meena: and the gappy teeth rn Tommy: 🙄 good save with the 🦷🦷 comment Meena: ? Tommy: Come on, who else in my family has a face full of frecks? Tommy: they're both taken though Meena: oh please Tommy: 🥱 Meena: You don't need to tell me about people fancying your siblings Meena: story of my life Tommy: he's 💪 but what else is there to say? Meena: Are you expecting me to answer that? Meena: don't be weird Tommy: I'm saying it's not much of a story, long hair & a six pack Tommy: so I won't be telling you I fancy him Meena: I likewise fancy none of yours, freckled or otherwise Tommy: Lovely to clear that up Meena: 🤷 Meena: Okay then Tommy: 👌 then Meena: Really? Tommy: Yeah really Tommy: what else? Meena: Alright Meena: nothing Tommy: there's something Meena: Beyond not getting why you're being so snappy about it, there really isn't Tommy: I can handle an attitude check Meena: Are you alright? Meena: Bored...school-sick? Meena: doesn't sound right but you know Tommy: Bored is closest Tommy: but that doesn't sound right at the beginning of summer Tommy: at least we can blame Rocko, congrats to him Meena: The pressure to have the best summer ever!!! gets to us all Tommy: & for that we can blame the insta feed Tommy: love none of being my fault Meena: Sure we can think of something if you wanna feel that classic guilt to make you feel at home Tommy: 💭 gotcha Meena: not promising full 🧠 power to it Meena: am on costume duty so Tommy: I can't decently sew but I've never missed with a hot glue gun so Tommy: ✨ Meena: Yeah? Meena: That would actually be a big help Meena: talk to Ali, she had a million ideas, as per Tommy: 'Course Meena: Of course I just see the limitations of the vague 'Summer' theme I'm meant to follow, but she sees nothing but endless possibilities Tommy: sounds legit Tommy: I'm on my way back, no doubt she'll jump on me soon as I get through the door for all hands on deck Meena: Sorry and thank you in advance Meena: it was all I could do to convince her I had to get back to cook dinner so she is certainly in full project manager mode Tommy: it'll cure how schoolsick I am, we're always adding 🎀 or ✨ to something so it'll pass for something else more fabulous Meena: that's the spirit Tommy: if you can't turn a 👻 into a 👸 or vice versa you might as well fuck off home Tommy: does Anne want them full JonBenét Ramsey 💄👑👶 or is ALL on the costumes? Meena: Oh God Meena: thankfully she's not gone that crazy in her own old age Meena: JUST costume Meena: though some of the mothers see fit to attack them with lipgloss, hairspray etc but that's their own M.O. and we don't need to go there for 'em Tommy: Small mercy, like Tommy: does she have any lads this time? Meena: not in the 3-7s Meena: pretty sure there's a lad in the 7-12s though Tommy: Oh Anne Meena: not every lifetime a Billy Elliot comes about, clearly Tommy: way to not capitalise on my success Meena: um, okay bighead Meena: did you think you'd start a revolution in 🍀 with your talent, like Meena: calm down 😅 Tommy: The point is, literal poster boy material right here & she hasn't made a single one Tommy: 🚬 is an expensive habit Meena: ugh Meena: 🤫 Tommy: 😂 Meena: going to make a very unflattering poster of you when I get home Tommy: I can't wait to be tagged in the 📷 Meena: I'll just put 'em up 'round town Tommy: Ooh like a scavenger hunt Tommy: I knew I wouldn't be bored for long Meena: was vibing public smear but yes Meena: it can be that too, you're very welcome Tommy: trying to shame me again, I 👀 Meena: if the 🩰 fits Meena: ask yourself why Tommy: You're a Meenie, there's why Meena: 😏 Meena: been a long time since I 👂 that Tommy: I'll pull your hair next time I see you if you're feeling nostalgic Tommy: what are mates for, like Meena: Got all summer Meena: see if I get to that level, like Tommy: if the 🩰 fits Tommy: I know Meena: mine barely did Tommy: if you're gonna keep teaching, you'll need a new pair Meena: I know Meena: they're so expensive though Meena: and who knows Tommy: Anne'll have you back in a heartbeat Tommy: & there'll be a pair here that'll fit, my ma don't throw anything of ours away Meena: I don't know how she manages to live off what she makes Meena: never mind the idea of this being anything more than a favour Meena: the shoes will be a help though, I'm gonna pay for how small those ones were tomorrow Tommy: Sugar daddy Tommy: there's a definite twinkle in her eye Tommy: I'll get in the loft or wherever the fuck else when I get back Tommy: you're a [correct guess of the size of her foot because obviously] yeah? Meena: OMG Meena: to be her daddy he'd have to be at least 90 😂 Meena: ✔ Meena: Thanks, like, IOU Tommy: Don't worry about it Tommy: get me Anne's 💘 goss & we're even Meena: not taking up 🚬 to get in on those breaks but aside from that Meena: do my best Tommy: yeah, don't Tommy: I've heard somewhere it's ☠ Meena: 😏 Meena: not that dedicated to the ballerina lifestyle Tommy: I won't tell, that HARSH truth would break dear old Anne Meena: Somehow I don't think so Meena: no poster girl, like Tommy: she 📞 you, I'm still waiting by mine Meena: 💔 Meena: she knows you're far too busy being a 🌟 to recruit Tommy: Yeah yeah Meena: You know she'd be beyond over the 🌙 to see you Tommy: I'm not twirling in to take your job Tommy: how out of order Meena: sounds like you have trouble controlling 1 kid Meena: never mind a class of Meena: not scared Tommy: he's my brother, he's feral Tommy: & you're rude Meena: he's feral because he's YOUR brother orrrrrr Meena: and I am not! Tommy: if the 👂s fit Tommy: have you forgotten what I was like OR? 'cause if you're trying to be polite, you've misjudged the timing Tommy: & yeah you are Meena: I'm not sure feral is the word I would use for you now or then Meena: you can interpret that as politely or im as you wanna Tommy: He's obviously not following in my exact footsteps then, 'cause who could Tommy: only you Meena: we were good partners Meena: 🤠 Tommy: 🏆🥇🥈🏆 Tommy: I'll dust 'em off when I 🩰 hunt Meena: you'll need several feather dusters Meena: 👴👵 Tommy: or a well flamboyant sleeve Tommy: 😏 Meena: very romantic of you Tommy: when you're having your goss sesh with Anne, the tea is that I didn't wear 💄 in public until I was nearly 12 Tommy: it'll help her control those 👶🤡 urges Meena: there's nothing summer about sweating off stage makeup Meena: poor babies Tommy: 🥀 Tommy: not the vibe Meena: definitely not Meena: not a fun sponge, they can have as much glitter as they like Meena: but full glam on a toddler ain't it Tommy: Thank Christ for the shared sanity Tommy: some of 'em at school would put full glam on a 🐶🐱🐰🐹 Meena: 🙄 Meena: it makes sense for the West End Meena: but the stage in the community hall is not that far from the what, room for 50-100 sitting? Meena: 🤡 features not necessary to see the facial expressions Tommy: Mmmhmmm Meena: when will I see you on stage then? Tommy: West End or community hall? Meena: 😅 Meena: former, obviously Tommy: Like I said, reluctant boardtreader Tommy: I only do the acting school makes me do Meena: yeah, but lots of shows must have some dance roles, right? Tommy: They do & I do 'em as & when Tommy: Billy Elliot already having been mentioned, like Tommy: I've got loads of auditions ✎ in this summer for all kinds of things Meena: well, let me know next time, will you Tommy: 'Course Meena: trying to keep your 🌟 secret or your fam from the audience, like? Tommy: Don't reckon having my ma in the front row would let me really shine, do you? Meena: I see where you're coming from Tommy: I can do without Fraze taking the piss about every role I don't get, like he understands the odds, as well Tommy: but if you wanna come, you can come Meena: like it's not one of the most competitive markets 🙄 Meena: so many people never get a role, like Tommy: he likes being a shit to be one Tommy: the role he was born to play Meena: yeah Meena: sounds familiar Tommy: gimme 2 more sisters over either brother Tommy: even if they were better 💃💃 Meena: wouldn't know Meena: source material varies on how fun that would be Tommy: 'Course it does Tommy: can't get the backup when I need it Meena: I'm 🤔 Meena: unless you're part of a twin duo of sisters, it's usually presented as more 🥊 than 💖 Tommy: Jo & Amy, not Jo & Beth Tommy: I've got Bea & Ro as well as Ali, I get it Meena: That about sums it up Tommy: I'd still take 'em over my brothers, know you can relate Tommy: Hell, I'd take the mystery sister we don't talk about & I've never met, over Fraze Tommy: there's a 📚💡 for you Meena: definitely 🖋 worthy Tommy: 👍 Tommy: [pictures of like all the trophies and other stuff he is finding as baby dancer mems cos he's back home] Tommy: more inspo Meena: Obviously, if this were any story, she'd be a teacher at your school Meena: 💃genes Tommy: she could be Tommy: I wouldn't know Meena: I bet most of your teachers are Anne types though Meena: so, too old, and not a hint of resemblance Tommy: Loads of 'em are young & 💪 so I love the added incentive not to 😍 a teacher Meena: you wouldn't anyway Meena: not a guy, a sister Tommy: I'll let you know if I run into her in 🌈 passage Meena: might be a coincidence too far Tommy: AHa! 🩰 Tommy: when do you need these? Meena: 🙏🙌 Thursday, but Ali and Ro said they'd come to do measurements then so you can throw 'em at 'em Tommy: Am I not invited? Meena: Are you coming to steal my spotlight? Tommy: I'll go hang with Carly if you can't handle our ⭐️🌟✨ Meena: her plans sounded like they involved 😴 Meena: 10am class was not her preference, I don't think Tommy: 🧸😪�� Tommy: I can work with that, rest, yeah? Meena: I don't think you were invited there either Meena: you should probably come Tommy: she's not as savage as you Tommy: who is, like Tommy: but alright, Meenie Tommy: check your attitude by thurs & I'll come Meena: oof! 😤 Tommy: I'll teach you this counting trick Fraze used to have to do when he was lil Meena: I know how to count Meena: key 💃 skill Tommy: the whole way to 10?! WOW Tommy: I thought you just 👀 me Meena: 😒 Meena: you're very rude Tommy: 😂 Tommy: you're adorable Meena: you sound like my brother now Meena: not a cute look Tommy: what am I if not the big brother you should've had? Tommy: fairy godbrother is going a bit far, like Meena: We've established I'm alright for 'em Meena: you're not getting a free sister here Tommy: 🥺 Meena: 😠 very mean very serious Tommy: I realise I'm gonna have to drag you away from Anne, she's hardened you Tommy: you used to be like 🍦 Meena: melts in the ☀ Meena: so ideal Tommy: melting wins 🏆🥇🥈🏆 remember Meena: all my 🏆🥇🥈🏆 live in your loft, or wherever your mum keeps the precious memories Tommy: you don't have any of 'em? Meena: a few 🥇🥈s Meena: my room's not a shrine to past victories or anything as tragic Tommy: I'll bring you one of the smaller 🏆 you can put a 🌱🌿 it'll be very chic Meena: That's student decor 101, is it? Meena: 👍 cheers, though Tommy: at my school it's full shrine, past, present & future Tommy: so I left mine at 🏠 Meena: just another competition Tommy: Yeah Tommy: I don't need to be surrounded by 🏆🥇🥈🏆 to know I need to go for gold Tommy: it's a scholarship requirement Meena: no need to get in a pissing contest with the kid who's been Simba for 3 runs, like Tommy: I'd be a FANTASTIC 🦁👑 Tommy: but if they have to 👀 at my decor to know it, I'm fucking up somewhere Meena: is this a bad time to tell you you aren't black Meena: can't say it's unfair on that specific casting Tommy: I learned the hard way when I performed that rap, cheers for letting me by the way Tommy: best friend goals that day Meena: it was Meena: very creative Meena: who am I, was I, to stomp out that spark 😏 Tommy: 🔪💖 Meena: 😂 Meena: oh god, hope your mum kept evidence of that Tommy: she did Tommy: my 🧢👟 styling was unforgettable before I even opened my mouth Meena: if you wanna beef with Anne, start with the hip-hop dance classes Tommy: Jesus Tommy: what a time Meena: So innocently problematic Tommy: You should write about Anne Tommy: she's lived a life Meena: I have Tommy: so if I trade you the rap footage, can I read it? Meena: Hmm Meena: tempting but Tommy: come on, what's more embarrassing than 👶 Vanilla Ice? Meena: my writing being nothing more than scribblings, potentially Meena: I don't really share it Tommy: I'm not asking you to insta it & tag Anne Tommy: Please Tommy: I'll be a perfect 😇 about it Meena: Okay Meena: but it's as serious as your rap career so no serious criticism please Tommy: you're the best, Meeps Tommy: & I'll be on my best behaviour Meena: Believe it when I see it, slim shady Tommy: maybe you'll 👀 it when you believe, Wendy Tommy: living for that compliment though tbh Meena: couldn't risk biggie Meena: as you're feeling so #fatshamed today Tommy: 😂 Tommy: & you don't wanna go for 🍦 Meena: Where did I say that Tommy: When you gave me a weather forecast Tommy: #notideal Meena: that was about melting myself, thank you Meena: no offer was made Tommy: let's go for 🍦 then!! Meena: !! SO AGGRESSIVE Tommy: !! I'M STARVING Tommy: & unlike Rocko I've got all my 🦷🦷🦷 & they're all sweet 🍬🍭🍦 lovers Meena: I know Meena: not as cute but more #relatable Meena: I have to finish dinner but then I can go Tommy: making it or eating it? Meena: I'll just make it Meena: don't want to spoil my 🍦 Tommy: 🙂 am I cute yet? Tommy: 😁😁😁 Tommy: 🦷✨ Meena: do you have all your stickers from the dentist still too? Meena: massive show-off Tommy: if she could've peeled 'em off & saved 'em, they'd be here Meena: so cute Meena: if I'm ever feeling suicidal I must bring it up Tommy: one word for it Tommy: & one exit strategy Tommy: suicide by bad cop Meena: suitably theatre of me? Tommy: I support it Meena: your support means SO much, obvs Tommy: 💐👏 Meena: throw 💎💰 please Tommy: I'll raid the dressing up & monopoly boxes Tommy: bear with Meena: ooh bagsie thimble Tommy: I remember Tommy: actually am best friend goals here Meena: obviously you want the dog, but you have to fight your dad for it Tommy: I'll end up with the 🎩 Tommy: can't escape the 🤩 Meena: it suits Meena: who ends up with the boat though? Tommy: Ali if she can customise it to look more like a pirate ship Meena: so Ro gets the wheelbarrow Meena: makes sense Tommy: She loves The Secret Garden Tommy: then & now Meena: I support that Tommy: 🤞 you'll support how it influences her 💡s for your summer theme Meena: it's definitely more spring to go full 🌷 🌹 🥀 🌺 🌸 🌼 🌻 Meena: unfortunately Meena: 🐙 🦑 🦐 🦀 🐡 🐠 🐟 🐬 🐳 🐋 🦈 is a bit 😬 Meena: seashells and mermaids is most likely what we'll go with and what the girls and the ma's will like best Tommy: I know we're all 💔 over the cliches Meena: it's basic but workable Meena: you will have to reign them both in or it'll be 😬 or worse Tommy: I can do bad cop Tommy: uniform optional Meena: 😂 Meena: not swoon worthy Tommy: are any of 'em? Tommy: not to personally shut down uniformdating.com Tommy: but like Meena: nurses not do it for you? Meena: or firefighters Meena: army men Tommy: okay I'll give you 🔥 men Meena: See Meena: something for everyone Tommy: 👌 hothoses.com or whatever can stay up Meena: ewwwwww Meena: shh Tommy: 😂 Meena: you're still sweet and innocent Meena: leave my memories as they are Tommy: 👶😇 Meena: more like it Meena: 👀 you Tommy: you're gonna see me covered in melted 🍦 that'll be more like it Tommy: not knocking any 🦷🦷 out though Tommy: line has been drawn in the sand Meena: that's fair Meena: I said 🚭 Meena: we're even Tommy: 🤝

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dxmagedrose · 5 years ago

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GET TO KNOW THE BLOGGER!

Tagged by: my lover @hammurabicomplex I’m tagging: anyone and everyone who wants to pick this one up! share with the class if you feel like it! tag me in it!!

PRESENTING. RANDOM DEEP DIVE WITH INDIGO-MUN AT 2AM ;

FIRST NAME Good fucking question… It’s (sort-of) currently Dylann! I was Kieran before that, though; it’s still used as one of my first names and I’m not used to Dylann quite yet bc I’ve just started using it.

Indigo is one of my middle names though, and I’ve used it as an online handle elsewhere forever so I use it here now! [ Fun etymology facts: Dylan(n) is a mythology name generally meaning “born of the wave” (aspiring diver & a water witch at heart). Kieran means “little dark one” bc of my love for horror, && I chose Indigo bc as a kid to be it was neither boy (blue) or purple (girl) and was both and neither as well as my absolute favorite color as this vibrant ass mystical color. ]

STRANGE FACT ABOUT YOURSELF hmmmmm…. I’m a horror lover at heart, so as a child (I wanna say 12), I was walking through an antique store (I have a few cool finds, I considered putting my other one as the fact tbh) and I turned the corner and I saw these two dolls staring back at me at the foot of the stairs of this antique building. my blood froze, and i felt my stomach drop. i got actual, physical goosebumps stumbling across these two creepy dolls staring back at me in the corner, and i couldn’t leave the store without them. perhaps the little painted porcelain boy would be somewhat spooky by himself if it wasn’t for the terrifying lidded gaze of the porcelain girl with the hairline fractures and slightly open lips. i cant look at her. i dont really find dolls scary, I like to find the spookier ones ones, and she makes me paranoid as hell. i keep her face covered and her up in my closet except for when i bring her out to show her off proudly as the spookiest thing I have but……. i dont really collect dolls anymore. even thinking about her brings a fearful tear to my eye. i don’t like to think about her for very long, but that’s why I’m so fucking proud to own her. ( YES — I’m THAT white person in the horror film )

TOP THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU FIND ATTRACTIVE ON A PERSON hhhhh a beardy jawline, high cheekbones, crooked canine teeth >:3c

A FOOD YOU COULD EAT FOREVER AND NOT GET BORED OF b.l.t.’s with avocado. ahhhh. my mouth is watering just thinking about it, oh my god. just a bit of salt and pepper???

A FOOD YOU HATE barbecue anything, i hate the taste of bbq sauce, you keep your nasty black goo to yourselves at the grill. twice in my life i have presented with barbecue pizza and both times i cried literal tears. why would you do such a horrible thing to a person? what kind of a monster are you? how do you sleep at night?!

GUILTY PLEASURE the sims. constantly. always. i’ve sunk thousands of hours into my households. oh also uhhhhhh i run two 80s horror blogs, one being a shitpost blog with occasional art of mine and one gremlin fanfic ship blog for horrible, terrible self indulgent fanfics i’ll get the courage to finish writing & post so i can be cancelled on tumblr for at some point. NO, i won’t link them. as i pretend they’re even all that hard to find, within a day i was found on both by someone i admire here a lot :’) ilu bby thnk u eternally for supporting ur local horrifying dumbass wtf

WHAT DO YOU SLEEP IN the same clothes i’ve been wearing all day usually, my sweats & long sleeve raglans or my hoodies. i like being cozy day & and out. and ugh. efoort. just throw me in a blanket in a cool room and im out.

SERIOUS RELATIONSHIPS OR FLINGS serious relationships with some openness or poly. i wish i could fling! just not exactly easy for demisexual autistics lmao.

IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN THE PAST AND CHANGE ONE THING ABOUT YOUR LIFE, WOULD YOU AND WHAT WOULD IT BE I think I would be adopted by my grandma as a kid. It would save me some trauma but mostly I think it would get my autism diagnosed way earlier and save me angsting all these years of wondering why & thinking it’s my fault I’m struggling so much and so loud and affectionate and different in a world that i didnt fit in the same way.

ARE YOU AN AFFECTIONATE PERSON when i get drunk i text people how much they mean to me in my life. does that answer your question? ahhh. i’m sometimes a cuddle monster with friends, i message people with long texts about how much they mean to me, but I sometimes really don’t like to be touched at all.

A MOVIE YOU COULD WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN FLYPAPER. F L Y P A P E R. FLYPAPER. FLY, and, I can’t stress this enough, fucking PAPER. ( Though also Whole Nine Yards and both Re-Animator & Bride ). I have watched Flypaper already like, 5 times this week and I’m still not done, and the other movies have been on repeat for days in this household within the last year. In the past it has also been Donnie Darko & the new Nightmare on Elm Street. roast me.

FAVORITE BOOK White Fang by Jack London. Have I actually ever finished it? No. Do I still own a copy I’ve had since childhood thru multiple dogs eating it, taking it to and from school, and highlighting and circling all the best parts of chapter one ever since I was a kid and it was too hard of a book for me to read? You bet your ass. If I ever need inspiration I just reread chapter 1. Although one of my other favorites was Broken Monsters by Lauren Beukes. But White Fang is like, a weirdly personal text. We stan London’s writing in this household.

YOU HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO KEEP ANY ANIMAL AS A PET, WHAT DO YOU CHOOSE FENNEC FOX!! I used to daydream about having my own named Shiloh when I was a lil kid. they’re adorable little things and i am obsessed. i mean, gimme any fox and im happy, marble foxes, red foxes… but I was obsessed with fennec foxes. Also tbh ferrets. I want a ferret.

TOP FIVE FICTIONAL SHIPS [IF YOU ARE AN RP BLOG, YOU CAN USE YOUR OWN SHIPS AS WELL] Rosa & @ninetyscnds‘s Luke, Rosa & @iimpulsivity is already screaming my name, Rosa & Constantine, Jesse & Andrea from Breaking Bad, and the joker and harley of 80s sci-fi Dan & Herbert from Re-Ani. I am but a simple opossum.

PIE OR CAKE Pie! I’ll take both pumpkin & melty apple over cake. also, cheesecake is more pie than cake soooo, pie wins.

FAVORITE SCENT my dogs / my blanket. :’) It’s the most grounding smell in the world.

CELEBRITY CRUSH oliver jackson-cohen, i’m fucking GAY and im angry about it. there i was, minding my own business, and i saw that asshole in a certain SHIRTLESS GIF and it AWOKE SOMETHING IN ME. dont talk to me about it, holy shit im obsessed with beardy men now god fuckkdafjaask i hate him why did he make me this gay i was perfectly fine being into girls but NOOOOOO him and his dumb hairy chest and sweet rugged face and I—— I also am obsessed with the archaeologist & television personality Josh Gates and may or may not be considering making a fan blog for him bc idk if my anthropology docuseries host is Dad or Daddy but i love him lots

IF YOU COULD TRAVEL ANYWHERE, WHERE WOULD YOU GO I would go on a dive with anthropologists and archaeologists doing fieldwork research in the ancient cenotes of the Yucatán Peninsula. My actual dream job, catch me crying & fantasizing about being underwater documenting Mayan skulls given as offerings. Fuckkkk, I love anthropology so much!! take me anywhere in the world to immerse myself into culture & archaeology.

INTROVERT OR EXTROVERT Introvert. I have a real life friend I see roughly once a month, and that’s it. Plenty of online relationships, I’m chatty, message me all day every day. but i dont do people well.

DO YOU SCARE EASILY I used to! Really bad. I don’t as much anymore. I do get paranoia a lot still. Having therapists telling you that the FBI could be outside your house watching you through your windows will kind of nervous. ( no google results for: yes hello fbi i am a writer please dont put me on watchlists i just have research i need to do for this idea im working on, would you like to try again? ) I have nightmares nightly but not they never make me afraid, they just make me feel like crap. jumpscares and loud noises and seeing people reaching into their pockets dont set off as many brain alarms anymore tho!! progress haha.

IPHONE OR ANDROID I like my android better bc of capabilities but meh

DO YOU PLAY ANY VIDEO GAMES My mom, her husband & I play COD for family game night, and Silent Hill is my life’s blood. I’ve sunken hours into Sims & Skyrim, and Norman Jayden from Heavy Rain is my #1 fictional character in existence, why do i love the druggie babies

DREAM JOB Oh… You’re asking me to pick? I’d love to be an anthropologist doing work out in the field. Underwater archaeology is peak, but I’m also heavily considering being a body recovery diver or police diver. I’d love to see myself in uniform someday, if possible. Just the thought makes me teary eyed & proud.

WHAT WOULD YOU DO WITH A MILLION DOLLARS fund my person creative & educational endeavors. get myself a spooky ass abandoned house to make my own home to create in, and travel to the world’s best dive sites. just live a mild life of education, creation & exploration. that’s the dream TM.

FICTIONAL CHARACTER YOU HATE dr. hill is a gross and whiny lil bitch this post brought to u by the miskatonic crew, how is everyone here an even worse bad guy than herbert west precious dan excluded talk shit get hit tho john winchester from spn and both walter white & todd from breaking bad are all in my crew of hated characters. i jusT… the reani novel is difficult to read because i have to deal with this old sack of shit.

FANDOM THAT YOU WERE ONCE A PART OF BUT AREN’T ANY LONGER Supernatural :-)

… AND THIS CONCLUDES A DEEP DIVE WITH INDIGO!! //

#||: && the mundane ( ooc );#( get to know a bitch!! )#( this was... a lot of me rambling about weirdly personal shit at 2 am )

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jlf23tumble · 6 years ago

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1D Day, Hour One

God only knows what this hellscape will look like on December 18, so if I’m gonna recap each hour of 1D Day, I might as well do it now, eh?? 1D Day is a gift that none of us really deserved, and yeah, it has a ton of shitty moments, but much like X Factor itself, the true gem is Louis Tomlinson and how much he runs this entire show (and lbr, the band itself), Jesus, god, do I love him.

Anyway, 1D Day aired 7 hours of live content on November 23, 2013 to promote Midnight Memories, and yes, yes, we’ve all seen the gifsets, but like anything else with this band, it’s tremendously better in context. I watched this whole thing a couple of years ago, when I first got into this fandom, but I didn’t know all of the dynamics then, so it’s extra fascinating to me now. We’ve all binged worse shit than this that took way longer, and I promise you won’t regret an hour a night for a week--but if you’d rather read my hot take, here you go, under the cut! Note: these are really shitty screengrabs, and for that, I am truly sorry.

A horrible announcer introduces the D by saying they weigh in at a collective 792 pounds, and all I can wonder is does this mean they have daily weigh-ins, why is it that specific? This focus on their weight is just gross to me. C’mon, writers, you’re better than this (j/k, you aren’t).

The three-foot bubble between Louis and Harry is established pretty early on, with Harry doing the prettiest sitting in all the land before bolting to his feet immediately because Louis happened to walk by his couch. A very real question: Was this bubble a requirement that Ben Winston constantly whispers into their headpieces, or did sbb decide, hey, let’s make it obvious that we have to CONSTANTLY adjust where we stand, even if it’s two feet away because that’s not enough room for Jesus?

There are some truly hilarious guest “stars” to announce, the first being the giant video head of David Beckham, which pops up and immediately starts speaking, so we're already off to the races with a) fuckups and b) Louis’s annoyance at said fuckups.

Liam takes a good hard look at his future:

Harry isn’t allowed to gaze at Becks, he’s off by the listening booth, which is a giant red call box because they’re Briddish, pip pip, cheerio. Unrelated, but I low-key feel like Harry's coked up or else really taking the piss with all his “LIVE BANDDDDDDD,” JERRY! JERRY! JERRY!,” etc., not to mention how fast he’s speaking, the way he grinds on the guitarist’s lap while Louis fonds at the sky, and all the yelling with arms aloft.

The best part of the rundown of the guest “stars” (or breast stars, if you’re Niall) is that we’re only in the first 10 minutes, so everyone’s giving it a go, but then we get to Mr. Simon Cowell, and Niall claps five times to stony silence (me as Harry constantly staring at Louis from three feet away):

Piers Morgan comes out to describe the “grilling” he’s going to give them later, all angry—genuinely angry—that they’re trending on twitter because they keep saying that he smells. And they don’t stop, even here, they keep yelling, “What’s that smell? You stink, etc.,” and he’s such a dick that I want to bottle this moment and spritz it around my house daily.

This mild trash talking continues, with Piers promising “tears from Piers,” but Slytherin Niall pulls the fingernail out of his mouth, smiles that sneaky smile, and says, “Yeah, but this isn’t Piers Morgan Day, is it, this is 1D Day,” and I want a transcript because there’s so much talking, but all of it trashes Piers, and god, I love my sons.

Anyway, they keep winding Piers up (Piers: “I’m going to find out what you’re most embarrassed about,” Liam: “The way you smell,” Piers, genuinely in a rage: “Don’t say that”), and he keeps talking about how he’s interviewed heads of state, etc., the implication being that this is below him, but Niall counters that Oprah and Barbara Walters have, too, and they would have much preferred Oprah, to the point where Piers admits they couldn’t afford Oprah (lmaooooooo).

We move on to Harry, spinning a twitter wheel that means they’ll follow whoever it lands on, which seems like a cute idea. I’m guessing it’s the official twitter handle?? I don’t know or actually care!

Louis can’t read the teleprompter, and he mutters later that it’s because it makes no sense rather than being too hard to actually see, but me as Niall, already yawning at the 25-minute mark (the bubble is preserved, though, whew):

I’m guessing Scott Mills is the “host” of this show because he comes out with a stick (??) and an agenda (Scott’s no Dermot…he has a face for radio, as they used to say back in the day). This whole section just features a lot of Harry and his pinned sleeves staring at Louis, and honestly relatable:

The next task is toilet paper roll stacking, with two judges from the Guinness Book of World Records on hand to see if this band of hyenas can beat the current world record and stack 28 (!!!!) rolls in 30 seconds. Two reasons to love Louis: he interrupts this idiocy to ask, “How did you two get into this, is this a full-time job you do every day?” (I was wondering the exact same thing), and this is his face for this challenge:

Sadly, they fail, and Harry’s the one who has to tell the judges, “Well, sorry for wasting your time!” with a cheery wave from the ladder. Uh oh, though, the bubble, we’re at two feet:

Much better!

This is still too close for Ben Winston’s comfort, so we split up the teams in what feels like a college course with a lot of money to run fake broadcasting drills. Zouis gets to report from the field, with some tweet rapping; the weather guy, sports guy, and lead broadcaster experience some technical difficulties, prompting Harry’s infamous, “SOMETHING’S GONE WRONG,” and we’re off to Poland:

For a production company that seems hell bent on “no homo,” there are lots of things that raise my brows, like this big “handsome” (Harry’s words) he-man who’s going to pull a “boohs” full of 1D fans over a line, so the boys have to guess how long it’s going to take him…by writing all over his mostly nude body (I’m the eye contact that Harry and Louis maintain during this):

Dude pulls the boohs successfully, so yay! Next up is Wrong Direction, the world’s worst lookalikes (HONESTLY, I’m embarrassed for everyone in this segment on Hollywood Blvd: the idiots who are “fooled” by this, the guys themselves and the low-key insult of it all, myself because this went on for way too long):

I’ll spare everyone the individual matchups because yike, but the real Wrong Direction comes to the studio, with all the guys dressed up like their matches, and the real D is polite, albeit mildly “wtf are we supposed to do about this” (me, too, Zayn). Points to Harry for at least trying to strike up some conversation: “Did you have foon, acting like us?” We’re supposed to vote for the best one on Google+ (lolololololol).

Scott takes two girls who look like they’re legit about to pass out into the red call box so they can be the first people to listen to the new album. While they listen to something none of us can hear, we get some VT (that’s “videotape,” god, I hate the whole lingo lesson we got earlier) of Spain and some fans, all of which feels like lengthy filler. I feel for the people Scott mentions as being asleep during this because there is a LOT of fill. Maybe make this shit shorter, just a suggestion!

Next up is Jamie Scott from his home somewhere in the middle of the night; he wrote most of Midnight Memories along with Louis and Liam, and he gives them an 8.5 in terms of how they did on a scale of 1-10 (and that’s AFTER Louis insults his pillows with the alphabet on them, “In case you forget”). There’s a lot of Lilo hand-shaking in celebration, and some enthusiastic clapping from Harry (a little too enthusiastic…I’m gonna imagine that someone tells him to tone it down in his earpiece because he looks around quite a bit):

A few things happen that don’t really interest me: the first listen of “Through the Dark” (this is skipped in the vid), a remote report from Radio Disney (Harry: “HOLLYWOODDDDDD!”) and a fan who wins the chance to come visit them later in the day, and then we’re back to Scott, who looks exhausted, and it’s only been 40 minutes.

All is not lost, because the next VT is the totally unnecessary yet extremely vital coverage of the D’s exercise regime. I’ve seen so many gifsets of hottttt and sweaty Lirry, but you haven’t lived until you’ve heard Niall’s American accent while he stretches: “Welcome to my workout dvd! I’ll be with you for the next 45 minutes to give you the lowdown of how I stay in shape.” PLEASE @ NIALL, DO THIS.

I really WANT to be Harry and effortlessly pump out pushups, but in reality I’m Zouis, popping some robot dance moves and drinking Red Bull. The weird shorthand throughout this is that Liam is an animal (Ziam + a whip = fire), Harry’s into flirty sexercise, Niall wants an arse like Kim K’s, Zayn’s a slender boxer, and Louis…just fucks around? Missed opp for footie Louis.

The first performance is “Story of My Life,” and we’ve all seen it before, but godDAMN, Zayn sings like an angel. Lots of technical problems in the audio, prompting quite a few Louis/Harry hand gestures, but still, in spite of it all, they sound amazing individually and together.

Even local asshole Piers Morgan is impressed, as he comes out to tell them that they were surprisingly good, along with a bunch of other neg bullshit. This is another one of those segments that it pays to watch the whole clip of, and Jesus, do I want a transcript. They head over to the couches, and Piers points at Louis and says, “You have the most reason to be nervous,” but Louis’s like, “Yeah, but I’m not,” and wow, #goals.

Everyone gets a couch, and the upshot is that Piers is a terrible egoist who thinks he’s a fantastic interviewer, but he really isn’t…all the questions are shit, and these five eat him alive. Everything he asks falls flat, and it’s so masterfully, subversively handled, from Louis’s iconic “define girlfriends” (and the underappreciated attempt by Harry to define it for Piers later: “Like in primary school, if you hold hands with a girl and you're eight, is that a girlfriend?”) to the obsession with smells (Piers asking Niall, “Why do you always smell,” claiming it’s a fan’s question, and Niall answering that it’s because he had colic as a child, so can only fart; Piers asking Zayn, “Who stinks the worst,” and Zayn saying that they all smell quite good, actually) to Piers demanding to see Zayn’s tattoo and relentlessly attacking him for it being a gun (Louis keeps interjecting that it’s a watergun, but go off I guess, paraphrasing).

But the best is always Louis. “What’s the weirdest thing a girl has done to impress you?” “Tweeted Piers Morgan.” Later, he says pointblank to Piers, “You do stink.” But then…but THEN, it’s the Four interview 1.0, only instead of Ben trying to get Louis to deny gay rumors, it’s Piers, who does it twice: “What’s the one rumor you wouldn’t want to hear about yourself?” Louis’s answer: “That I’m not good at football.” “Are you good?” “No….I just wouldn’t want it confirmed.” Piers tries AGAIN: “What’s the worst thing you’ve had to read about yourself?” but Louis turns it around and says he hates reading about one of the other boys being dead (!).

Because he’s the worst, Piers takes it to the ladies and asks how many girlfriends they’ve had and how many times they’ve kissed a girl. Harry says he’s kissed 8 ladies (which prompts a good scoff out of Zayn), and everyone else says 5 or 6, 3 or 4, etc., with Louis declaring he’s only had one proper relationship (no genders mentioned), so maybe 2 (lmaooooo). Piers gets all excited that he’s kissed more girls than this hot boyband has, and I wanna say, you’re almost there, “friend”…keep working it through.

There’s more antics w/r/t Piers, like his poor 2YO daughter crying, and him trying to blame it on Harry Styles not answering her dad’s sex questions or stupid questions about embarrassing things they’ve caught the others doing, and yeah, I don’t think they’ll get into the big ot5 gang bang on live TV, but ask anyway, I guess?

The last person to suffer sitting next to Piers is Liam, and I love him always, but especially for saying, “How’s it going there, stinky?” when Piers takes a seat to ask him why he’s so sexy. Piers tries to “joke” that the sexy question is for him, but nobody says anything, and then he asks Liam AGAIN before admitting that it’s a shitty question, so then he asks about them all wearing tight jeans, and godddddd, why does anyone let him interview anyone??

The good news is that Piers can tell he lost, so as he tells them that he thinks they’re pretty okay, actually, but, “You’ve gotta stop calling me stinky,” and you know they never will.

Scott says it might feel like much longer, but it’s only been an hour, and Zayn’s lookalike won, so we can all rest easy. This hour closes with a review of the highlights, and it’s ham-fisted and awful. Shocking!!!!

I can’t do one of these every single day, but I’ll do hour two sometime soon! Hope you enjoyed this, @justlarried, lol!

#recap #1d day #hour one #it really did feel like a full day

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justanoutlawfic · 7 years ago

Note

I dunno if this is the type of prompt you're looking for, but could you perhaps do a little one shot of a conversation Snowing might've had about naming their son please? Like, them squabbling over names they like, dislike, know someone who had that name who *insert action here*, suggestions from the rest of the family, etc. This would be when they've had the baby so there's no speculation of girls' names. Please and thank you.

I am going to ask that if anyone dislikes Neal Cassidy/Baelfire to not read or leave any negative comments about him or the name Snowing chose. I’m not exactly a fan of them naming their baby after a man they barely knew (even though I loved Nealfire), but this is canon.

Takes place shortly after David brought the baby to the hospital.

Also on AO3

Snow looked down at the baby in her arms, letting outa content sigh. Her son was back in her arms. She could hold him properly andnot worry about a wicked witch stealing him from her. Here he was, her sweet,perfect little boy. All this time she had been convinced that he was a girl,but David had been right this time around. She leaned down and kissed thecenter of his forehead.

“I bought so many bows,” she whispered. “Sorry aboutthat.”

David chuckled from his spot in the doorway. Regina hadtaken Henry and Emma to get something to eat, Hook went to the docks, they werefinally alone. “This is why most of what I bought was neutral.”

Snow rolled her eyes. “Shush, you were convinced it wasa boy.”

“True.” He walked closer to her. “We could’ve foundout, you know. There are ways in this realm.”

Snow shook her head. “The surprise was much more fun.Though, knowing ahead of time with Emma meant I had a name.”

“I always meant to ask how you chose that.”

“It means universal, whole. That was how I felt when Irealized that George’s curse on me was broken, like I would finally be wholesomeday. I finally had you and then we were going to have a baby.”

David nodded, carding his fingers through her pixiecut. “It really does fit her.”

“That’s why I think we need something just as powerfulfor this little one.”

“Does this mean you’ve given up on Leopold?”

“That went out the window as soon as I learned what heand my mother were really like.”

David bit his lip, trying to fight off a frown. “I’msorry. I know that’s not easy, finding out that our parents weren’t what we thought.”

“It’s fine. I mean, it’s not…especially not how they treatedCora and Regina, but I’m finding a way to move on.” She let out a deep breath. “Wecould always name him after your dad.”

“Robert? No. He was a weak man, I don’t want that puton our son.”

He moved his fingers to stroke his son’s cheek. He wascompletely bald, but had the brightest blue eyes. Most babies had blue eyes,but he secretly hoped that these would stick. Maybe he’d be the opposite ofEmma, with Snow’s hair and his eyes. He couldn’t wait to see who he’d turn outlike, what his personality would be.

“What about Joshua?” He suggested.

Snow instantly shook her head. “I knew an arrogantknight with that name. Silas?”

“Sounds like another name he’d get made fun of over.”

She rolled her eyes. “Walter?”

“Do you actually like our child?”

“Hey, Walt Disney is a pretty amazing guy.”

“He screwed up our story.”

Snow cuddled her son closer. “ Right. Not naming our sonafter him.”

David laughed, perching himself on the bed. “Emma suggestedBeckham.”

“I don’t like that. Henry gave me a list of literary ones.”

Snow pointed to the piece of paper on the bedsidetable and David scanned it. He found a few that would be potential middlenames, but none really stood out to him as the first name for his little boy.

“You know, Emma’s middle name is Ruth, after mymother. Maybe we could name him after someone too.”

“Ruth was the reason why Emma could exist in the firstplace, this little guy too. It’d have to be another hero, someone that withoutthem, we all wouldn’t be there.”

They were quiet for a few moments, the only soundscoming from the baby. Snow realized it was time for him to eat and adjusted himso he could feed. He had been gone for an hour and she worried it would messwith his schedule, but man he could eat. She wasn’t sure that she’d need thelactation consultant that Whale had recommended.

“Neal,” David whispered.

Snow tilted her head. “Huh?”

“A hero, the person that without him we wouldn’t behere. It’s Neal. He sent a message so Hook would go to New York and get Emma.He gave his life so Rumple could tell us who the Wicked Witch was.”

Snow slowly nodded, looking down at her son. He didkind of look like a Neal. “He is Emma’s ex, though.”

“An ex she loved. I know he hurt her, but in the end,he turned out to be a pretty amazing guy.”

“His real name was Baelfire. Neal was a name he madeup when he came to this world.”

“And, in my opinion, for a pretty good reason. I likeBaelfire, but it doesn’t seem like a name that really fits in this world.”

“Neal,” Snow whispered. “Neal David?” David smiled abit and then nodded. He had never saw a child being named after himself, but itdid have a nice ring to it. “I like it.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “I think we have our name.”

“Should we tell Emma? Or Rumple?”

Snow pondered that for a moment. She had come up withEmma’s name shortly after finding out that she would one day have a daughter.She had kept it to herself for over a year. This time, David knew and she’dhave someone to confide in.

“Nah, let’s wait. We’re having the naming ceremony atGranny’s soon, just like we would back in the Enchanted Forest. It can be ourlittle secret for now.”

“Whatever you want.” He pecked her lips and then gentlytook his son back into his arms. “Hello there, Neal,” he whispered. “Welcome tothe world.”

#snowing #charming family #daddy charming #mama snow #neal charming #neal nolan #prince neal #baby neal #stark-park #asked and answered

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scary-noodlesblog · 6 years ago

Text

Hunters Guide To Love Chapter 3

Hollywood Babylon Part 2/?

Sam's POV:

I lean back against the wall, watching Tara act along with my cousin and the other actors. McG telling them different commands and orders. Tara's character, Wendy, walks into the prop abandoned house.

"Wendy?" Mitch calls out.

"Oh Mitch!" Wendy exclaims feigning shock, "you're alive!"

"Cant get rid of me that easily," Mitch smirks.

McG called out to the FX guys, rumble rumble rumble.

Wendy begins to pace a little, "salt. Okay we need salt. I read in that book that it keeps ghosts away!"

Mitch nods and turns to Charley and the other two actors, "Linda, Kendra, Logan, you guys go check the back."

Next to me I can hear my "coworker" Marty whisper to the producer, Jay, "Jay, the poor bastard killed himself. Like, for real. Shouldn't we shut it down or something?" At least this guy has some common decency.

Jay shrugs, "we had a moment of silence for him at breakfast, plus he's just a studio guy."

I shift my weight and side glance Jay, "How charming" I mutter sarcastically.

McG turns around, shushing us before I hear Wendy yell to Mitch, "I love you!"

Mitch nods, "I know." Aaand they ripped off Star Wars. My critical thoughts were interrupted when I hear Tara break character and sigh, "can we- can we cut or something?"

McG gives her a small look, "uh...yeah, cut. Cut!"

I jump slightly as I hear Dean yell "cut!" from my right. I look over and he seems to be having the time of his life, eating his taquito. McG pouts, "only I can say cut!" Then he turns to approach Tara. I listen to the crew argue about if salt would make sense to use on a spirit, to which I smirk a little. If only they knew.

I notice Sam heading over to talk to Dean. I move away but stay within earshot of the two. Dean speaks up, "Walters a little testy for a PA, huh?"

"How is it going in here?" Sam asks.

"It's going really good man. Tara's really stepped up on her performance. I think its probably from all the sense memory stuff she's drawing on."

Sam looks at Dean confusedly, "sense memory?" Dean nods. "Dean, you, you know when I ask how it's going on in here, Im talking about the case right? We dont really work here. You know, I thought you hated being a P.A."

Dean shuffles his feet, "I dont know. It's not so bad. I kind of feel like part of the team, you know? It's good," he holds his plate out to Sam, "oh, taquito? They're wonderful."

His brother declines again, "ummm, I conned my way into the morgue."

Dean raises his eyebrow, "and?"

"News reports are right: Brads a doornail, no question."

I smirk slightly, "perfect." I turn away and head off to find Maggie and Charley.

Maggie's POV:

I take off my headphones and point it out to Charley and Sam. "See! Its a class A EVP right there!"

"I took electromagnetic reading earlier, they were off the charts insane," Sam spoke up.

"I also saw some of the tapes from when Brad was hung, I saw a woman with rope burn around her neck, she looked pretty young too. I did some research, her name was Elise Drummond, an actress from the 30's. She had an affair with a studio exec. and he used her, so she hung herself." Charley chimes.

"Perfect, and her grave?"

"The 'Hollywood Forever' Cemetery."

"Alright girls, we're digging tonight."

Charley's POV:

We enter the cemetery, shovels in hand. Maggie is holding the map while Sam keeps a lookout for any guards.

"Where to?" I ask.

"Just up ahead. Make sure--," Maggie's sentence is cut off by two male voices. All three of us hush each other and crouch slightly behind a bush.

"Of course its the goddamn Winchesters," Maggie curses quietly.

We see Dean gesture to a memorial for Humpty Dumpty, "this map is totally worth the five bucks! Hey, we've gotta go check out Johnny Ramone's grave when we're done."

Sam gives him a skeptical look, "you wanna dig him up too?"

"Bite your tongue heathen!"

Maggie starts to snicker and we rush to silence her, but its too late, the boys had pointed their shotguns at us. They slowly move toward us and we ready our shovels, as that is the only form of weapon we have.

As soon as they move the branches, Sam's face softens and Dean just looks even more pissed off.

We all freeze, and try to come up with a clever explanation for why we're hiding behind a bush. I frantically glance at Maggie because she's usually the one with the plan.

"Why are you following us?" Dean asks us, fuming.

"Wait, Dean I think I've seen them around the set a few times. She's a PA, she's an actress, and she's a technician." Sam says pointing at each of us.

Dean sighs, "well, names?"

Maggie stands up and extends her hand, "Maggie Davis, this is Sam and Charley"

"Well Dean and Sam." Dean gestures and shakes her hand.

"Thats gunna get confusing," our Sam says.

"Youll just be Samantha," I giggle as she groans.

I go and start digging up the grave, Maggie and Samantha following, the boys come soon after.

Once we get to the coffin, Dean pulls up the lid to it, revealing the corpse of the dead actress.

I cringe and Sam salts the bones before Dean tosses his lighter onto it.

Meanwhile.... 3rd Person POV:

Jay tries to find his way around the dark set, when he sees the shadowy figure of a man walk by. "Hey! Hey, pal! Can you, uh, show me to the exit? I can't see a damn thing in here."

The man turns away from him and doesnt respond. "Hey! Hey, putz! Im talking to you! Somebody could get hurt here!" Jay exclaims.

Suddenly the man turns around, his face slashed open and grotesque, a section of his skull split open. Jay screams and falls back on the ground.

"W-what the hell?" He stutters.

The fans suddenly turn on by themselves. The man starts to flicker before he vanishes, Jay tries to crawl away but the fan starts to drag him backwards. He gets sucked into the fan and torn apart by the blades, his blood spraying everywhere.

#supernatural x reader #supernatural #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #samwinchester #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam #deanwinchester #dean #dean winchester #castiel #misha collins

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allthephils · 7 years ago

Text

Repose

Chapter 11

Rating M word count: 2036/ 32497 so far

Read on Ao3

As the day wound down, no one came. The next day, Phil wondered if Dennis would show. He wondered if he’d ever be allowed back there. Dennis did come though and the day proceeded as usual, with no interruptions. Still, as Phil wandered the room, watering the plants, a knot of nervous energy grew in his stomach. He’d grown fond of his strange new normal, but any minute, it could all be taken from him. He could lose this little home away from home. He’d put energy in to this, he’d put love into it, and it hurt to think of walking away. He still assumed Dan would wake up but now he wasn’t sure he’d be here to see it. Then there was a small dark corner of his mind that questioned his own assumptions. The curse could be real. It absolutely could be and Phil may be the only answer for Dan. His feelings were complicated enough without this responsibility. Add fear to that and he ached for Dan, in a way that he hadn’t in years.

He didn’t know what to make of it. He paced the room, quieter than he had ever been, trying to remember the last 5 years. They’d been full of accomplishments and memories but it all seemed to fade to the background.

He inventoried his romantic history, trying to make sense of the magnitude of emotion he was experiencing now. Online dating never yielded more than one or two dates. There had been hook-ups, nothing to write home about, mostly with people he met at industry parties. There had been the time he ran into Jimmy at the garden center. It was just a few weeks after the break up and Jimmy was familiar and pretty and kind. He’d invited Phil to see his new place and one thing led to another. Phil had cried in Jimmy’s arms afterward. Of course, Jimmy was lovely and understanding but Phil had been so mortified, he never called him after that.

Then there were the relationships. Michael was a friend of Phil’s manager. He was beautiful, funny, confident, and he adored Phil from the start. He loved him with an intensity Phil just couldn’t match, however hard he tried. Phil ended it after a year, telling Michael he deserved better. Michael didn’t agree. Breaking his heart put Phil off dating for a while. The next time was only last year. Phil had loved Sebastian, he really had. All his friends loved him too. He felt the relationship grow around him, watching Sebastian get comfortable and make plans. He just couldn’t see a future with him though. Phil’s family didn’t get it, it all seemed to be going so well. Even Louise didn’t understand but she was supportive anyway. The thing was Phil couldn’t really see himself with anyone. He broke it off after 8 months. It didn’t seem that unusual at the time. Now, here with Dan, he had to wonder if his inability to fall deeply in love was because his future was already written. Maybe he had never truly let go of Dan.

There was Dan and Phil at the start and there was Dan and Phil now. What came between felt out of focus. If you had asked him a couple weeks ago, he would have said that 5 years is a long time. Now it was a flash. Back then, he’d known that the depth of feeling between he and Dan was irrational for a relationship that lasted only months. He had believed in love though, with his whole being, and he trusted that these things are bigger that two people. He had believed they were meant to be. Now that everyone else agreed, he was frightened. This situation was manipulative. It had shaped and molded Phil’s heart and mind into something he recognized from all those years ago. He couldn’t be sure which pieces were genuine and which were nostalgia. He couldn’t be sure if what he felt was love or fear or if there was even a difference.

That night he lay in bed, contemplating what he’d do if they told him he couldn’t come back. There had to be a way around this. He texted Louise. Hey Lou, sorry it’s so late. I’m scared Lou. Prince Walter definitely doesn’t want me there. I don’t know how much longer he’s going to let me come.

Louise answered immediately, of course. You know you can text me anytime Phil. That man is an absolute bell end. I’m with you. Let’s just take it day by day. Try to get some sleep love.

“Hello?” What a strange thing, answering the phone.

A sigh came from the other end. “Hey.”

“Hey Dan. Everything ok?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to hear your voice.” He sounded exhausted.

Phil warmed at the sweet thought of Dan making an actual phone call to hear Phil talk.

“I’m really sorry I’ve been so busy. I may have bitten off more than I can chew. All these projects add up to a full-time job. I miss summer.” Dan said, glumly.

“That’s ok. I understand. Besides I saw you three days ago.” Phil really did miss him but this slower pace was probably a good thing. His heart had been rolling downhill, picking up speed, ever since that first wink. He was grateful for the time alone, to work and consider what exactly all this was.

“Was that only three days ago? Huh. Feels like longer. Anyway these lunch dates, they just aren’t enough.”

“I don’t know, it’s kinda romantic, our stolen hours together. I’ll take anything you can give me.” And he would. Phil would run away with Dan today if he asked or take only the thin scraps left of him after everyone else in his life got first pick.

“I know you will. You’re amazing, but you deserve better.” Dan sounded frustrated, almost defeated.

“Are you kidding me? Better? Dan, the hour I spent eating lunch with you the other day was the highlight of my whole week. What’s going on? What’s happened?”

“Nothing new. I’m just tired of having my life designed for me.”

Phil wished he had any idea what that was like. He didn’t know how to help. “You’ll get some freedom at university, won’t you.”

Dan mumbled, “fuck university. It’s just the beginning of the end.” There was silence on the line. Phil didn’t dare respond to that. Finally, Dan spoke, “I miss you Phil. I want to introduce you to my brother. I want to take you places.”

“You have taken me places.”

“I want to be alone with you, really alone.” Dan said, lower, obviously trying not to be heard.

“I know. I want that too.” Phil closed his eyes.

“I have to attend some meetings with my father, which means I’m trapped at bloody Windsor for the week, then this stupid benefit party on Halloween.”

“Oh. Ok.”

“Promise me I can see you after that?” Dan asked.

“I promise.”

“I have to go. I’ll text you when I can get away from Prince Vlad.”

Days went by without a text. Dan had told Phil about his father . He was a taskmaster, idle hands are the devil's workshop and all that. Phil didn’t want to get Dan in trouble but he missed him and he was a little scared from his Halloween week movie watching habits. Mostly, he just really wanted Dan to know that he was thinking about him. When it was late enough that he assumed Dan would be alone, he sent a message.

Phil: Just thinking about you, wanted you to know. I hope you are having an ok time.

Dan: Phil. Thank god. How is the real world?

Phil: I watched some freaky horror anime and I wasn’t scared watching it but now I’m sat in my room with the light on and I think I’m just gonna have to sleep like this.

Dan: Lol. I wouldn’t be any help at all if I were there. I’m a complete coward.

Phil: I still wish you were here.

Dan: Me too.

Phil: Are you feeling any better?

Dan: Better than what?

Phil: Than the last time we talked?

Dan: I don’t know. I’ve just been focused on work.

Phil had a a question nagging him, running through his head all day. He typed it fast and hit send before he could change his mind.

Phil: What did you mean when you said that uni was the beginning of the end?

Dan: Just that, after uni, there are expectations. No one cares what I do right now, as long as they still believe I’ll end up where I’m supposed to.

Phil: Where you’re supposed to?

Dan: Married

Phil stomach turned.

Phil: To Iris?

Dan: That’s their pick yes.

Phil: So I’m just your gap year then?

Dan: What? No.

…

Phil watched the dots, waiting for a reply. Instead the phone vibrated in his hand.

"Hey." Phil huffed.

"Phil, listen..."

Phil cut in, unleashing all the thoughts he'd been carrying, “This is why I wanted to talk. But we just kept kissing instead and then I guess I decided I didn’t care. But I do, Dan. You’re not interested in Iris but that doesn’t mean you aren’t promised to her. Uni will come and you’ll leave and then after you’ll have to get married or whatever. England’s not ready for a gay king. And I just wanted to know all of this before I let myself admit all these things I’m feeling. And now fucking Iris is your future and I can’t even dream of a future with you, but I never should have to begin with because it’s all so new.” He took a deep shaky breath, “But it feels so real.”

“Phil.” Dan was practically whispering, hiding in his bathroom with the fan on, desperate for privacy. “It is real. It is. And it doesn’t matter who I’m promised to. They won’t force me to marry.”

“They won’t?” Phil squeaked out.

“No. It’s complicated, but let’s just say, I have an out.” Dan spoke slow and soft, doing his best to reassure Phil. “They wanted me to bring her as my date to the benefit and I said no. I said I wouldn’t string her along anymore. She knows how I feel, please don’t blame her for any of this. She’s actually really smart, incredibly strong, and she’s been a decent friend to me. Her life has been mapped out since before she was born, just like mine has. She is doing the best she can with the options she’s been given. My parents don’t even really know her, she’s just from the right family is all.”

Phil’s breath had steadied, the initial flood of emotion subsiding. “And what would your parents think of me?”

Dan sighed heavily. “They don’t need to know about you. You’re none of their business.”

This did nothing to assuage Phil’s fears. He was quiet.

“Phil, when the time comes, I will tell them about you. I’ll tell everyone. I swear.” He sounded frightened, whispering and rushed. Phil wished he could take back every word and just wrap his arms around Dan. “It’s just going be hard, mostly on you. I just want to keep you to myself for a bit longer, ok? I haven’t even decided what I want to do for the next few years, for uni. You are the only thing I’m sure about right now. Please don’t doubt this. I know it’s new, but I...we’ve come this far. Please trust me.”

Embarrassment took hold now that Phil was calm. This was exactly what he had been trying to avoid, too much too soon. “I trust you. Of course I do, I’m sorry. You must think I’m crazy, saying all that. You probably want to get off the phone.”

“Phil, do you not hear me? I feel exactly the way you do. It’s fast but it’s real. I’m not scared, Phil. I’m not going anywhere.”

They kept talking, in hushed tones, easing into normal conversation They talked about what Phil had planned this week, about the food at Windsor castle, and about Dan’s brother and how his voice was cracking. They talked until Phil was nodding off. Their goodbyes lingered, dancing all around the words they both wanted to say.

#phan #phanfiction #phanfic #sleeping beauty au #wip

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meetmeatthecoda · 7 years ago

Text

Grifting with the Enemy: Chapter 4

Hey all! :D Here is the next chapter of GWTE! I know, I know, it’s been 84 years. I’m hoping there’s still some interest in this fic! In the coming days, I will splitting my writing time between this and Amethyst, which is Part 2 of Facets containing all my soulmate and AU prompts. Super pumped :) That said, this is a bit of a return to writing for me since it’s been a while since a substantial update cause of real life and it’s CERTAINLY been a while for an update on this fic, in particular. So, as usual, I would love any feedback you can give me, especially concerning continuity with previous chapters, flow, and pacing. I’m hoping I picked it up okay but, as always, I await your responses with baited breath :)) Anyhoo, please enjoy if you can and this will also be posted, as well as the previous 3 chapters, on my FF.net and AO3 profiles! :D Thanks guys! :) Much love! <3

Liz walks into the restaurant, standing on her toes as she scans the room for Red. She sees many diners, all dressed in casual, mid-day finery, and paying her no mind. Liz purses her lips. Only Red would invite her to a restaurant like this knowing full well that she would be wearing a leather jacket and a blue beanie.

Typical.

Red had left a day in between their last meeting before calling again – Liz tried to ignore how happy she was that he didn’t wait a full three days like the last time – and inviting her to lunch to discuss the heist. In a public restaurant. In broad daylight.

Unbelievable.

She had assumed that he had reserved the whole stuffy restaurant or something ridiculous for the sake of privacy (that was something rich people did, right?), thinking there was no way he would discuss secret illegal plans surrounded by potentially eavesdropping diners.

She was wrong.

He apparently didn’t think anyone would care enough to listen to their heist plans or, if they did, he obviously didn’t care enough to do anything about it. He was happy to sit and enjoy what will probably be a delicious lunch – if the small portions and pristine table cloths are anything to go by – out in the open, where anyone can see him.

Except Liz, apparently.

She continues to crane her neck, struggling to find him in the busy restaurant. She sees the host spot her and start to make his way over to seat her. Great. She was hoping to slink in unnoticed, feeling very out of place in her current attire, every inch the careless, fresh-out-of-college, youth she pretended to be. She doesn’t even know what name Red gave when reserving his table and it could be anything. If she could just catch a glimpse of him –

“Hello, can I help you?”

The host interrupts her desperate search, looking at her with undisguised interest. Hm. Well, at least he’s not snobbish and rude. He is cute, after all, despite being several years younger than her, probably actually fresh out of college, as opposed to her. Oh well. Perhaps he can help.

“Um, maybe, I’m looking for a, well, he’s a, uh, he –”

But Liz is saved from struggling to describe the walking enigma that is Raymond Reddington by the sight of a fedora perched on a hat stand near the back of the restaurant. She swears it wasn’t there a second ago but, if it was, it’s no wonder she didn’t see it. He must have secured a private table if he’s all the way back there. She can’t see him but there’s no mistaking that hat, probably worth more than her monthly rent costs.

The host is still watching her hesitantly.

“Oh, never mind, I see him,” she says kindly, relieved, and flashes the young man a smile which seems to dazzle him a little. “I’ll just go and join him.”

She leaves the stuttering waiter behind, catching a quiet little “oh, okay” before she saunters out of earshot, not sorry to be going. He is sweet but much too young for her, even if an on-looker wouldn’t be able to tell. Besides, she’s not interested in a boy.

She is having lunch with a man.

(Oh, bad, Liz, bad thought.)

Liz weaves her way carefully through the tables, minding the messenger bag slung across her chest, catching a few stares from elegantly dressed man and woman with her bright blue beanie and wide rimmed glasses, as expected, before she finally rounds the corner to a table situated out of the way in a little alcove. It is still within sight and earshot of a few tables, all of which are suspiciously empty. Perhaps reserving the whole restaurant wasn’t such a far-fetched assumption, after all.

“Lizzie!”

His warm, welcoming voice washes over her, as it always does, making her feel much less out of place than she did in the open dining area. Amazing.

He sits in a fancy chair at the beautifully laid table, looking just like all the other elegant, rich diners in the outer area. She sighs.

(He’s so out of her league.)

There are only two places at the small table, all the dishes empty, save two goblets of water at each place. Both glasses contain the same amount, however, meaning that Red waited for her to arrive before eating or drinking. Somehow, she’s not surprised. He is an unfailingly polite criminal. She smothers a smile.

“Hi, Red,” she says happily, slinging her bag over the back of the vacant chair across from him. “Where’s Dembe today? Won’t he be joining us?”

Red smiles easily at her, taking a moment to watch her remove her beanie, stuff it a little self-consciously in her bag, and smooth a hand over her ponytail before answering.

“Dembe is rather a connoisseur of fine foods and he enjoys watching professionals at work. He’s in the kitchen observing.”

Liz raises her eyebrows, surprised and skeptical. She thinks it’s more likely that Dembe is watching over Red’s meal at all stages to make sure no one slips anything in it. That fits with her current profile of Red, appearing completely at ease while really going to all lengths to assuage his paranoia. Poor Dembe, being quarantined to the kitchen to watch his boss’s food, how unfair –

“I know what you’re thinking, Lizzie, and it’s nothing like that. Dembe is quite an enthusiastic chef. You should try his dishes, they’re exquisite. His mushroom ravioli with sun dried tomatoes and white wine sauce is to die for. And don’t even get me started on his desserts.”

Liz smiles, amused by Red’s gushing over Dembe. Perhaps their relationship is something deeper than it appears at first glance. She’ll be sure to observe them more closely from now on.

“I see. So, he is a willing student of the kitchen, is he?” she questions, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Very much so,” Red says happily. “I’ll tell him you were worried for him though, he’ll be touched. If you’re lucky, he may even make you his famous crème bruleé as a thank you.”

“Good, is it?”

“Positively indulgent,” Red hums, his voice deep and his eyes dark. Liz stares back at him, entranced. The air warms between them.

(Liz suddenly wonders what would happen if she took advantage of their seclusion at this private table, out of sight, alone, together –)

And then a male waiter materializes out of thin air – luckily a different young man than the one Liz talked to before – and the heated staring contest between Red and Liz comes to an abrupt end. Liz can’t help but feel both relieved and disappointed.

She reaches for her water goblet and takes a fortifying gulp.

“Are you and the young lady ready to order, Mr. Kershaw?” the man asks professionally, completely unaware of what he just interrupted. “Would you perhaps like some wine to get you started?”

“Yes, please, Walter,” Red says smoothly, turning away from Liz to address the waiter he is obviously familiar with. “I think we’ll share a bottle of ’76 Merlot, if that’s all right with you, of course, Lizzie?”

Liz, who hasn’t even glanced at the beautiful menu covered with curly writing, nods easily. “Sure, I’ll have a glass.”

“Very good, ma’am,” the waiter nods and disappears again.

Liz sighs, turning to the menu, on the hunt for something that looks good. She doesn’t even know where to begin. But she certainly doesn’t want to admit it to Red.

“If I may, Lizzie, I would recommend the chicken marsala with roasted potatoes and red wine sauce. It’s delicious, easily my favorite thing on the menu.”

Well. That sounds lovely. How convenient. But she doesn’t want to admit that either.

“Hmmm,” she hums noncommittally. “Thank you for the suggestion. I’ll keep it in mind.”

Liz pretends to read the rest of the menu thoroughly, already having settled on the chicken marsala. Then she thinks of a way to tease him more. She can’t resist.

“Red wine sauce, you said?”

“Yes. Why, are you not a fan of wine?”

“Oh, no, certainly, I am. I love a good glass of red before bed just as much as the next girl,” Liz smirks at him over the rim of her glasses. “I’m just sensing a theme with your suggestions here, Red. Not trying to get me drunk, are you?”

Red only grins at her, his eyes sparkling. “Perhaps I am,” he murmurs.

Another moment starts to grow between them but is quickly stopped once again by the return of their waiter with their ordered bottle of wine. Liz is starting to feel a distinct distaste for this poor server and his timing. But then he pours her a generous glass of wine and she feels a little more friendly.

“Are you perhaps ready to order?”

“Lizzie?”

“Yes, I am. But you first, please.”

“Of course,” Red agrees easily, wasting no time in ordering his preferred chicken dish.

The waiter simply nods, making no move to write the order down. Liz tries not to be impressed by that. This order will probably be the least complicated thing he serves all day. He turns to look at her expectantly.

“And I’ll have the same, please,” Liz says politely. The waiter just nods again before taking their menus and moving off.

“Well, well. You took my advice, after all,” Red says to her slyly, regaining her attention effortlessly.

“Well, you know, there’s a first time for everything,” Liz says cheekily, reaching for her wine glass.

Red smirks at her, picking up his own glass and clinking it gently with hers before she can bring it to her mouth. “Indeed,” he purrs, holding her eyes as he takes a sip from his glass.

She blushes.

(Oh, my.)

“Well, I was under the impression this was a working lunch. Am I mistaken?” Liz prompts after another long moment, struggling to break Red’s gaze long enough to form coherent words.

Red continues to stare at her for a second even after she looks away. She can feel his gaze on her, a warm, drugging thing, before he nods to himself and slips into his businessman persona.

(Liz can see the change in him easily, another person sliding into place as if a switch has been flipped.)

“No, you’re absolutely right. A working lunch it is,” Red confirms, straightening in his chair. “Details are coming together well for the heist.”

“Excellent,” Liz murmurs. “Any chance you want to fill me in on those details? I’m used to running solo on gigs like this. I feel quite left in the dark.”

“I’m sorry, Lizzie, that’s not at all my intention,” Red frowns, leaning forward to convey his sincerity. “It’s only logistical things that I’ve been organizing. I invited you to lunch today for the very purpose of filling you in.”

“Oh, good,” Liz says easily. She doesn’t feel any animosity towards Red for the lack of information. She believes him when he says he was intending to tell her. She just wants to prod him along a little, with the heist date drawing closer every day. “So, what do I need to know?”

Red gives her a little smile of thanks for understanding and takes another sip of wine before answering her.

“We’ll rob AM&R Bank at two o’clock in the afternoon on September the twentieth.”

Liz almost chokes on her mouthful of wine.

“What? We’re robbing one of the most secure banks in D.C. in broad daylight? Are you crazy?”

“Quite possibly,” Red grins at her a little madly. “But this is a perfectly sane decision, I assure you, Lizzie.”

Liz puts down her glass and pushes it far away from her. Perhaps drinking wine at a working lunch with Raymond Reddington is not a good idea.

She crosses her arms. “Care to elaborate?” she asks primly.

“With pleasure,” Red answers happily. “As demonstrated beautifully by your response, the best time to commit any crime is when the ones who would stop you least expect it. This is especially true with a robbery. If the guards aren’t expecting a break-in, they won’t see one. The human mind is a remarkable thing, as I’m sure you’re aware, Lizzie.”

Liz purses her lips, mulling over his logic and the obvious reference to her psychology background. She has to admit he has a point. But that doesn’t mean she agrees with him.

“All right,” she says a little tersely.

Red frowns slightly. “You don’t sound completely on board.”

“That’s because I’m not,” Liz answers simply. “I admit that your logic is sound but only in theory. In reality, it simply can’t hold up.”

“And why is that?” Red challenges, seeming intrigued by her defiance and genuinely interested in her opinion.

Liz stares at him evenly. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my studies of the human mind, it’s that people rarely do as they’re expected. There’s so many random variables that you’re not taking into account in this situation.”

“Like what?” he asks immediately, an odd sparkle in his eyes that pulls Liz forward in her seat, leaning towards him and lowering her voice into something more intimate.

“What if the guard on duty decides to have an extra espresso shot in his coffee that morning, making him more observant and on edge than he usually is? What if one of the cameras needs unscheduled maintenance and it’s left tilted two inches further to the left than you originally anticipated, at the perfect angle to catch our faces? What if Amos Rodfield himself decides to show up and inspect his bank that day and we’re caught? There are simply too many unknowns.”

Red nods seriously, leaning forward to match her posture, placing his forearms on the table, and looks earnestly into her eyes. “Absolutely. We need to be able to control as many factors in this situation as possible if we are to be successful in our operation.”

Liz nods, pleased. Good, she’s convinced him to see her side of things, excellent, perhaps now he’ll –

“Which is why I’ve planted a guard to be on duty that afternoon, a most trusted friend named Amilo, who, as it happens, abhors coffee. I’ll have one of my own men check the cameras and install fake feeds during the morning shift to avoid any unexpected technological mishaps. And, as far as Amos goes, I know his schedule. He’ll be on vacation with his young girlfriend Bridget in the Bahamas on the day of the heist.”

Liz blinks.

Oh.

“Do you agree with me now, Lizzie?” Red asks, a slight taunt in his voice as he leans closer conspiratorially, a dark twinkle in his eyes.

Liz stares back at him for a moment, mouth agape, entranced and in wonder at his brilliant mind, before looking down at her empty plate with a huffed little laugh. Impressive. But she can’t let him off the hook that easily.

“No,” she murmurs, looking up to catch his expression.

She sees his self-assured grin slips in an instant, the corners of his mouth pulling down in an unexpected frown.

How satisfying.

“You can only control so many factors, Red. And as impressive as all those things are, committing a robbery in the middle of the day is still a large and unnecessary risk.”

They stare at each other in silence, both sets of eyes flicking back and forth to watch the other.

(There is no anger or resentment between them, only good-natured tension and excitement, a friendly debate to see who wins. Liz loves the feeling.)

“But,” Liz suddenly breaks the silence with a careless shrug, moving abruptly to sit back in her seat, secretly lamenting the new distance between them. “It’s your heist, Red. So, I’ll show up whatever time you tell me to.”

She grins teasingly at him. She wants to make it clear that there are no hard feelings between them, at least not on her end.

Red seems to get the message, returning her smile after a searching look and a slow nod, easing back in his seat to copy her posture.

“That’s good to know,” he murmurs finally. “And, while I accept your reasons for thinking otherwise, I’d still like to perform the heist during the day.”

“All right,” Liz says easily, taking a sip of wine.

(She was right to save it. She needed her wits about her for that round.)

Red follows her lead, sipping his wine as well, observing her as he does so.

“So, you would never perform a heist during the day?” he asks, the teasing back in his voice, happy that they got through a mild disagreement without serious complications.

“Well,” Liz lilts, unable to resist playing with him a little. “Not by choice, no.”

“And why is that?”

“I’ve found that I always perform best at night.”

She looks up at him coyly, making her innuendo clear, pleased to see his lips quirk and his gaze darken as he looks at her.

“Oh, I have no doubt,” he rumbles.

Liz lets out a breathy laugh and they watch each other in rapt fascination until suddenly their waiter reappears with their identical lunches.

(And she is sure that in that moment they were both contemplating a “night performance” and the thought alone heats her cheeks.)

Red turns to their waiter, making a show out of thanking him for the quick service, using no shortage of flattery as he does so. Liz, grateful for the personal moment, takes a deep breath and attempts to steady her heart rate. Who knew lunch with Raymond Reddington could be this exhilarating?

(Oh, but she is enjoying herself.)

Liz looks back up as the waiter moves off again, feeling a little more in control and ready to tackle whatever disarming looks Red may choose to throw at her next.

(And perhaps throw some of her own. She can’t let him have all the fun.)

“This smells amazing,” Liz says. And it’s true. The chicken looks perfectly done with just the right amount of sauce. Her stomach grumbles. She suddenly remembers that she’s only had some buttered toast to eat today and that was this morning.

Red smiles at her. “I hope you enjoy it,” he tells her sincerely, picking up his wine glass and holding it towards her. “Cheers.”

Liz quickly picks up her glass to clink it against his once again. “Cheers.”

They dig in, Liz starting with her potatoes and Red going right for the chicken, cutting it up into neat pieces before delicately dipping it in the sauce.

(He is a methodical eater, Liz notices, much like herself, further reinforcing her suspicion that they have similar minds, detail-oriented and organized. The thought that they have things in common thrills her.)

They eat in silence for a few comfortable minutes before Red speaks.

“So, Lizzie,” he begins.

Liz looks up from her half-empty plate with her eyebrows raised politely.

“Yes?”

“Now that work is out of the way for now, should we indulge in some pleasant meal-time conversation?”

“Certainly, if you like,” answers Liz with a grin, amused by his playfully formal attitude. “Or, we could continue to sit in companionable silence until it gets unbearably awkward from lack of speech and one of us excuses themselves to the bathroom in a desperate attempt to get away.”

Red chuckles warmly at her. “Yes, we could also do that, although I must admit I would prefer the former.”

Liz smiles back at him. “Yes, I would as well.”

(She can’t imagine even a hint of awkwardness permeating the air between them. She just suggested it to be funny. Red is simply too comfortable to be awkward. Too suave and confident and handsome –)

“So, what should we talk about?” asks Liz, out of both genuine curiosity and an effort to halt that line of thought in its tracks.

Red takes a moment to drink his wine, swishing the liquid around in his mouth for a moment before swallowing, clearly pondering her question. Then, having come to a decision, he looks up at her suddenly, his gaze direct and piercing.

“I’d like to talk about you.”

Liz blinks in surprise, her fork, chicken and all, stopping halfway to her mouth. “Me?”

Red’s mouth twitches. “Yes, Lizzie. You.”

Liz puts her fork down and takes a drink before answering, a little confused. “I’m not sure what there is to talk about that you don’t already know. I’m a professional grifter. I pick locks and do brush passes and steal things. That’s about it.”

“Those are your professional qualifications, Lizzie. I know all about those. I’m talking about more personal things.”

Liz frowns. “Personal things? Are you telling me you didn’t already have your henchman look up everything little thing about me?”

This time, Red’s eye twitches instead of his mouth. Hit. “Intel, for the purposes of the heist, mind you, only tell me so much,” Red murmurs. “I want to know more about you, Lizzie, as a person, not as a grifter, impressive though that side of you may be.”

“Oh,” Liz murmurs, feeling a little touched that Red would even be interested in her that way.

(She tries to tamp down the little flutters in her stomach at words “Red” and “interested in her”.)

“Well,” she says, feeling more at ease now. “What would you like to know?”

Red smiles a kind smile, his eyes warm and attentive. “Where did you grow up?” he asks softly.

Liz smiles back. “Nebraska.”

And it goes on from there, Red asking questions and Liz providing answers, opening up more as time passes. Red is an active participant, making it a true conversation, adding comments or occasionally sharing a related story of his own.

(He is a fantastic storyteller, engaging but not overpowering, and she thinks that she could listen to him all day, would like to, in fact. But, for some reason, he’s more interested in her right now and that creates a different but equally pleasant feeling inside her.)

Liz does most of the talking, the rest of her meal going cold on her plate while Red picks a little more at his own before abandoning it completely to give her his full attention. And Liz doesn’t mind not finishing her plate; she was getting full anyway and she can have the leftovers for dinner tonight.

(And the fact that Red values what she’s saying over their delicious lunch of chicken marsala – and he was right, it is fabulous – speaks volumes to her.)

Liz isn’t sure how long they talk but she knows she never wants it to end. She’s never enjoyed talking about herself very much but with Red, she doesn’t feel like something on display to be picked at and dissected, like she does with most people. She can feel his attention on her but it is polite and courteous and interested, a warm, flattering thing. It doesn’t suffocate her or pressure her like other people’s eyes do and instead gives her just the right amount of welcome to feel safe.

(It’s a lovely feeling.)

Liz isn’t sure how long they would have sat there talking and sharing and laughing if Dembe had not suddenly appeared by Red’s elbow, staring at him meaningfully until Red finished his current story (which left Liz holding a stitch in her side from laughing so hard) and managed to tear his openly adoring gaze from her.

“Yes, Dembe?”

“We must leave now if you are to make your three o’clock meeting, Raymond,” Dembe says quietly.

Liz’s mouth falls open in shock and she quickly turns to root around in her bag for her phone, needing to see the time for herself. She manages to extract it with minimal struggle and unlocks the screen. Dembe is right, of course. It is half past two. Her and Red have been eating and talking for just over two hours.

(Time flies when you’re…well.)

Red nods, gently dismissing Dembe, and takes a moment to shift back into his business man persona. Liz watches quietly, lamenting the return of Raymond Reddington and the departure of Red.

He turns to look at her. “Well, Lizzie, I’m truly sorry to say it but I do have to be going.”

“That’s all right,” Liz says, trying not to let disappointment bleed into her voice. “I didn’t realize how long it’s been. I can’t expect to steal any more of your time.”

Red shakes his head at her. “You of all people should know, Lizzie. The word ‘theft’ implies that you took something I wasn’t offering. And that was certainly not the case.”

Liz blushes lightly at his words, feeling quite light-headed at the clear insinuation.

(And perhaps it’s best that they part ways now; she’s not sure how much more overt flirting she can take without breaking out into childish giggles. How much wine has she had anyway?)

Red raises a hand to signal their waiter, who was apparently waiting nearby, unnoticed by Liz, and he hurries towards the table.

“Yes, Mr. Kershaw?”

“Walter, could we have the rest of the young lady’s meal to go, please?”

“Absolutely, Mr. Kershaw. I’ll be right back, sir.”

Red thanks the waiter who, to Liz’s surprise, whisks her plate out from in front of her and takes it away. Well, the service in this restaurant is certainly something. At the eateries Liz frequents, they usually just toss a flimsy box in her general direction. What a change.

Liz takes a breath. “Thank you for such a lovely afternoon, Red. The meal was delicious and the company was…better.” She smiles at him, trying to make her feelings clear.

“You’re very welcome, Lizzie. I assure you it was my pleasure. We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

(And Liz thinks she might hear a bit of a tremble in Red’s voice as he says this, just a hint of uncertainty. It’s so unfounded that it’s almost laughable.)

“Oh, I think so, yes,” she says with a kind smile.

He smiles back at her gratefully and they just look at one another until the waiter re-appears, placing a small take-out bag on the table in front of her. She thanks him profusely and, once he’s gone, finally moves to stand. Red follows suit.

“Well, I expect I’ll be hearing from you?” Liz inquires cheerfully.

“Oh, yes,” Red hums, looking into her eyes. “I’ll give you a call.”

“Excellent,” chirps Liz, finding it hard to pull her gaze – and body – away from Red and his magnetic presence.

(Well, she has to leave sometime, doesn’t she?)

“I’ll talk to you soon then,” she says happily, and he simply nods at her. She turns to leave.

Liz makes her way back to the front of the restaurant, weaving through the tables in same way she came in. The only difference is that this time, she can feel Red’s eyes on her back until the door closes behind her.

Liz kicks the door of her apartment shut with a sigh, heading right for the kitchen to drop her bag of leftovers off in the fridge. As it happens, she’s not hungry, even after a full day of errands and shopping after leaving Red at the restaurant. It’s early evening now and she can always eat later.

She turns on some lights as she makes her way through her apartment, growing dim in the evening light, and tosses her bag on its usual chair, somehow managing not to stub her toe on any furniture as she goes. Amazing.

Liz enters the kitchen and sets the bag of leftovers on the counter, reaching in and feeling around for what should be a small box of chicken marsala, only to be confronted with what feels distinctly like two boxes.

She frowns.

Liz pulls out both boxes and sets them on the counter, squinting at them in confusion. After a moment’s deliberation, she opens the box on the left to reveal her entrée. So, then what is in the other box? Did the waiter perhaps give her Red’s leftovers as well? No, Red’s plate was still on the table when she left. So, what –

She carefully opens the mystery box and gasps aloud. A huge slice of tiramisu sits there, looking absolutely delicious. The scent of coffee meets her nose seconds later and her mouth waters. Liz loves tiramisu. How did Red –

Ring, ring.

Liz jumps, a little startled, and goes running for her discarded bag, her phone’s muffled ring tone luckily still audible from inside. After a brief struggle involving her car keys, a pair of earbuds, and her lockpicks, Liz finally manages to extract her phone and glance at the screen before pressing accept.

Unknown.

Her heart flips in her chest.

“Hello?”

“Lizzie.”

“Red,” she breathes, not realizing how she sighs his name until she’s already done it.

“Is this a good time?”

Liz can’t help but smile. Polite criminal. “Yes, perfect actually, I just got home.”

“Wonderful,” Red says and she’s sure she can hear a smile in his voice. “Did you, uh, get a chance to get settled?”

“If you mean look in my bag of leftovers and find the tiramisu, then yes, I did,” Liz can’t help but get straight to the point.

“Ah, yes, that’s rather what I meant,” he sounds a little hesitant, though Liz can’t imagine why. “Did you, uh, are you, well, do you –”

It takes a second for Liz to understand what he’s trying to ask. “Oh, yes, I love tiramisu!” she hurries to reassure him. “Yes, I could hardly believe it, it’s my favorite, how did you do it?”

Red gives a relieved chuckle, so deep she thinks that her phone might have warmed a little in her hand. “It was just a lucky guess. I know you’re a fan of coffee, at least in the morning, since I had some with you in your apartment last week, so I figured it was a safe bet that you’d like tiramisu. And I just slipped a note to Walter when you weren’t looking, that’s all. I’m surprised you didn’t catch me, to be honest.”

“So am I,” murmurs Liz, truly impressed that Red managed to perform what was basically a brush pass right in front of her without her noticing. “Well, thank you very much, I can’t wait to dig in.”

“You’re very welcome, Lizzie, and I’ll let you get to it in just a moment. I was just calling to see if you’d like to practice a little tomorrow.”

Liz frowns to herself. “Practice?”

“Yes, for the heist,” he answers, excitement now clear in his voice. “I was just thinking it might be a good idea to see how we work together under pressure before the big day. Just to be safe, you know.”

Liz has to admit it’s a good idea. She hasn’t done too many joint gigs – since she definitely prefers to work alone – but with the few partners she’s had, it’s never quite worked out.

(She has a funny feeling that Red is different though. In more ways than one.)

But, it can’t hurt to practice, as Red says.

“All right,” she agrees eagerly. “Do you have anywhere specific in mind?”

“Not really,” he says idly. “I figured I’d get your opinion on that since you’re no doubt more experienced in the field than I am. Of course, we could always meet at outside your apartment and wander until we find an appropriate location to steal a little something. Or is that too spur-of-the-moment for you?”

He sounds genuinely concerned that this won’t be to her liking, apparently oblivious to the fact that that’s exactly the sort of thing Liz had so much fun doing with her friends in high school. Besides, what better way to test themselves as a team than not planning a thing, all the while knowing that the actual heist will be planned down to the last detail?

“No, no, that’s fine,” Liz assures him. “Spontaneous crime is my favorite kind of crime, as it happens, however did you guess?” she quirks her mouth up in a teasing grin even though he can’t see her.

“I seem to be on a winning streak today,” he hums.

Liz presses her phone close to her ear. “One could almost say you’re getting lucky.”

Red’s delighted chuckle at her innuendo fills her whole body and she laughs breathily along with him.

“One can only hope,” he murmurs, making her smirk. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

“Yes,” Liz says, happy at the prospect of seeing him again so soon. “Does nine-ish sound okay?”

“It’s a date,” he murmurs.

“Excellent,” she hums. “I’ll see you then.”

“Good night, Lizzie. Enjoy your dessert.”

“Good night, Red, and thank you again.”

Liz hangs up, breathless and tingly, and does nothing but stand stupidly in her kitchen for a second, a ridiculous grin on her face.

Oh, Red.

Then she gets another whiff of the tiramisu and snaps out of it, turning to grab a fork from the drawer next to the sink. She wastes no more time digging into the tiramisu, spearing a generous forkful and putting it in her mouth, closing her eyes with a tiny moan as the coffee flavor explodes on her tongue. As she swallows, already helping herself to another bite, she catches herself having the oddest thought.

She wishes Red was here to share dessert with her.

Oh.

Oh, she’s got it bad.

4 notes · View notes

timebuzzer · 4 years ago

Text

Ever After Chapter 14.7

THE WEDDING

Finally, Mr. Park welcomed the bride as everybody stood up in anticipation. When the door opened, Sage was on the verge of tears when he saw the most beautiful bride before his eyes, his bride, Alex in a beautiful gown.

Fresh tulips were beautifully decorated all over the place as IU sang “I GIVE YOU MY HEART” as Alex walked down the aisle.

Alex personally invited IU sunbaenim to her wedding. She wanted her to serenade their wedding as she walks down the aisle. Song Hana came together with her.

While Alex was finally walking down the aisle looking like an ethereal goddess who descended from the heavens, Sage recalled everything he has gone through in the past. From the time he was jealous and broken because of Liam, to his lonely years in the US, to his confession as a pizza delivery man, to the small room where they held their registration and now this. He was now on the verge of tears as he closed his eyes to stop them from pouring. He firmly pressed his fingers on his eyes to stop himself from crying any further.

He could hear his loud heartbeat as she walked slowly towards him. He thought he had seen his Alex at her prettiest, no, she was always the most beautiful in his eyes but right then, Sage just couldn't find the right words to describe her. All he knew was that at that moment, Alex was taking his breath away.

Alex on the other hand was never better. She recalled how long Sage has waited for her. She felt disappointed that it took her too late to realize that the man of her dreams was just there with her from the beginning. She recalled how she used to follow him when they were still kids. How he always pampered her in the best possible ways that made her not want to have any boyfriend at that time because having Sage was enough.

And now, as she was closer to him, seeing his handsome face in front of him, Alex started to become teary-eyed as she looked upwards to stop herself from crying because she doesn’t want to ruin her make up. She was shivering in anticipation. She couldn’t control her heartbeat. It seemed like it wanted to come out due to pure bliss.

Finally, after today, they would become a married couple to the public. They no longer need to hide from anyone. This in itself made it truly liberating.

Sage finally took a bow to her parents and took her by the hand and Alex did the same to his parents as well. The latter could see his hands shiver slightly and when their hands finally intertwined the shivering stopped and all she could feel were strong, comforting, and secured hands that won’t let her go. She tightened her grip to match his as she looked at the man in front of him with semi red-eyes.

“For all four seasons, and twelve months,

with you every day, till we run out of breath,

we shall be in love and stay together... “ IU’s voice echoed in the room.

As the bride finally was with the groom, all the people inside were teary-eyed because they all witnessed the struggles of the two in their relationship especially Aira who was already crying big time while fanning her self making sure her make up is intact. She was with Alex in all the stages of her relationship. She was finally happy that her best friend no longer needs to hide from anyone. She looked like a mother who finally turned over his daughter to the man she wanted her to marry. Hans was rubbing her back gently to pacify her.

“Babe, relax, your reaction is more dramatic than auntie and uncle. They might think you are Alex’s real mother and not them.” Hans tried to joke to pacify Aira’s emotions. As a result, Aira pinched him on the waist and finally leaned on his shoulder and wiped her tears away.

When the couple reached the platform, Mr. Park officially started the ceremony after everybody was seated.

"Good evening everyone. I am Walter Park, Dean of the College of Fine Arts, professor of this couple way back in college. We are gathered here today to witness the union of two people whom I have known personally before they became huge celebrities.

When Alex became a freshman, I noticed the change in Sage. The aloof Vice President of the student council that time suddenly became sensitive to a junior’s needs. Sage was a campus heartthrob in the university back then but he talks to no one else unless it’s school related, if I remember correctly only Hans could talk to him casually. Other than him and to his professors, he was silent. I even received a lot of applications from the student council because of him. Because he only talks to his council members, but still school related.”

Everybody chuckled after hearing these. Those college friends knew these full well because they were mostly Alex’s friends and only a few council members of Sage and Hans were invited to this wedding. Then Mr. Park continued.

“After seeing his ‘extra’ efforts I thought he finally had a girlfriend. But when I asked him, he would always say that they were just friends. However, his action says otherwise.The president of the student council who would excuse himself to the toilet and would return 20 mins later. I acted as if I didnt know that he usually goes to the toilet in "another building" which I bet would be the auditorium."

Alex laughed at Mr. Park's story while Sage looked down shyly.

"After hearing my aloof and introvert student delivering his graduation speech commending two important women in his life. I thought, finally, he had confessed. But life was indeed full of surprises. When he asked my thoughts about entering the showbiz industry, I realized still no progress? I thought after hearing his speech, Alex would realize her worth in his life? They then became Sage and Elle, who seemingly drifted apart. I was curious but wasn't brave enough to ask as respect to both of them. I'm merely a spectator too. I thought, maybe they really will be just friends in this lifetime.

"But life made another turn, TBn production company contacted me if our college is open to be a shooting location of their drama. And I bet I'm not the only one who hoped that the right time would finally come. And now, here we are. They took a long road, a long journey before they have reached where we are now. And I know, that journey, those lessons and realizations along the way, prepared the two of you for a longer journey of a lifetime." He paused for a while and look at the couple, nodding in front of him.

"My wife and I are already married for 20 years, we still have a long way to go. It was far from a perfect marriage, but I know it is a happy marriage. Two things that I could impart from that are, one, always respect one another, as husband and wife, and as a person, whom their parents' loved dearly. When you respect your partner, you will not hurt him or her, you will take care of each other, you will treat each other right, you will not take one another for granted. It entails compromise and loyalty. More so, you will also put high regards to this day. The day you vowed for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, til death do you part.

And the second thing is, today is not only for the couple but it also requires participation of the people here. We are here not only to witness their union, to celebrate, to eat sumptuous meals, to take pictures for instagram. We have a greater role, responsibility, than that and that is to remind them when they forget their promise, a guiding light to the right direction before and when things get tough, when these two get derailed from the track. We serve an important role in this marriage too, the sound of reason when they can't find one." He scanned around the hall to look at everyone present.

“Sage and Alex, married life is a lifetime commitment and always a work in progress. Being an ordinary couple is already tough but being a celebrity couple under the scrutiny of the public at all times makes it even tougher. But I know you will thrive because you’ve been best friends even before you became a couple. I presume you’ve known each other well enough to build a solid trust that would not be easy to topple down even under public pressure and that in itself is something that doesn’t waver over time. When difficult times occur always remember this day and the vows you made to one another before all of us.

In life, we cannot choose our families as we are born with them but we have the option to chose our lifetime partners, yet you chose one another and you have to continue choosing each other anytime, all the time.

And I would like to request everybody here present, when the time comes that one of them comes to you for any advise when they are having marital problems, please advise them not to give up on each other.

But at the end of the day, Alex and Sage everything will always be your decision. Always continue to remind yourselves that friendship is the most sturdy foundation of marriage. Before you decide to do something you’d regret later on, ask yourself, “Am I ready to lose not only my partner but also my best friend because of this?” Always bear that in mind.

This has been a very long speech already so I think I’ve said enough or Sage might not let me stay for dinner because I talk too much. I wish for the two of you to have a happy marriage. Thank you and good evening.”

The crowd then made a thunderous applause as Sage and Alex gave meaningful glances at each other, taking in all those words Mr. Park has spoken.

He gave a great speech, words of wisdom, that would benefit every husband and wife, even soon to be husbands and wives, in the hall.

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