#when period dramas collide

[harrysfolklore]

Tom meeting reader at an event and he’s just flirting the whole night and ends up getting her number

i watched the golden globes and got inspired to write this! i hope you like it <3

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

If there was an award for "most nervous person in attendance" at the Golden Globes, you'd have won it by now.

Award shows never failed to make your stomach feel in knots the entire time, specially when you were nominated, like tonight.

The Great had been a huge breakout role, a period drama that had captivated audiences and critics. Now, you stood among the nominees for Female Actor in a Television Series – Musical or Comedy at the Golden Globes, and you could feel your heart pounding as the moment of your category being announced approached.

"Love, are you okay?" you heard a voice calling for you, turning your head you realized that it was Dua (yes, the Dua Lipa) who was sitting next to you.

"Just a bit nervous," you told her with a small smile, "I think I'll head backstage for a minute, I need a breather."

She assured you with another smile and you made your way backstage, a commercial break started just on cue.

You had rehearsed your acceptance speech a dozen times in case you won, and also had a pep talk ready in case you didn't, yet the nerves persisted. You knew you were competing against some big names, and whatever the result people online would have something to say.

Your train of thought was interrupted by your body colliding with someone, almost dropping your clutch in the process.

"Whoa there, careful," a voice chuckled, catching your arm.

"Sorry, I didn't see where I was going," you said, your cheeks flushing from embarrassment, of course you'd run into someone in classic romcom cliche style.

"No harm done. You alright?" he grinned and you recognized him, it was the man who had been flooding your Tiktok for you page for the past month, Tom Blyth, "I'm Tom, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, I'm YN," you smiled back, "And yeah, I'm okay. Just a bit nervous about my category. Oh you're presenting it, aren't you?"

"I'll have the privilege, yes," his charm effortlessly showed, "And just so you know, I'm rooting for you. You were phenomenal in The Great, one of my favorite shows I watched last year."

Your nerves seemed to ease a bit, his presence and charm making you relax. There was something about him that felt comforting, even though it was your first time meeting him.

"Thank you, that's really nice," you smiled at him, "But I don't want to get too confident, the other nominees are just as great."

"Honestly, I'd bet my hat you're taking that Golden Globe home tonight."

Tom squeezed your arm gently and you smiled again, and before another word could be exchanged, a crew member's voice echoed through the backstage area announcing that the show was back from commercial break in 30 seconds.

"Well, looks like it's showtime" Tom glanced towards the exit, then back at you. "Knock 'em dead out there, YN. You got this."

"We'll see."

With a final wink sent your way, you parted ways. You returned to your seat and tried to enjoy the ceremony as much as you could, your nerves still in the back of your head but your interaction with Tom making you feel more at ease now.

"And now, presenting the award for Female Actor in a Television Series – Musical or Comedy, please welcome The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes star, Tom Blyth!"

You heard the host say and you knew t was time, and once again a wave of nerves and uncertainty filled your body.

The crowd erupted in applause as Tom stepped onto the stage, his confidence and charm shinning through.

"Good evening, everyone. It's an honor to be here tonight among such incredible talents," Tom smiled, "Here are the nominees for Female Actor in a Television Series, Musical or Comedy."

A video played showing all the nominees but you felt like your mind was numb, you didn't even realize it had ended until Tom's voice was heard again.

"And the Golden Globe goes to," he paused for suspense, and you could see a small smirk making its way to his face as he read the name, "YN!"

Time seemed to freeze, you tried to process everything as you heard the applause from the crowd and those around you congratulating you and before you knew it, you were on stage taking the award from Tom's hands and giving him a quick hug.

"I told you." He quietly whispered in your ear and gave you a wink, a moment that the cameras had caught.

You gave your speech, thanking your cast mates, directors, family, friends and the rest of the nominees. Once you were done you headed backstage with a proud smile and your newest award in hand.

The night went on and you definitely enjoyed every minute of it, mingling with other actors and thanking everyone who approached to congratulate you.

Once the ceremony wrapped up, you headed to the after party, you were sipping on a fruity drink by the bar when you felt a presence behind you.

"Hey, can I steal a moment with the newest Golden Globe winner?"

You turned around noticing it was Tom, he had changed to a different suit and you couldn't help but think that he looked really handsome.

"Sure, what do you need, president Snow?" you laughed, feeling a newfound confidence around him.

"How about your number? I'd hate to lose touch with Hollywood's latest sensation." Tom flashed his charming smile again, taking you by surprise and making your entire body feel giddy.

"Smooth, Blyth. Very smooth." Blushing furiously, you playfully rolled your eyes.

"Well, when you really really want something, smooth comes naturally."

And just like that, after winning a major award for your career and feeling on top of the world, you found herself exchanging numbers with Tom Blyth, excited to see where that would take you.

[chvoswxtch]

confession

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: one confession changes everything.

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of guns, bombs, blood & violence

word count: 5.5k

a/n: dun dun dunnnnnn. i hope y'all are hungry for drama, bc that's exactly what i whipped up. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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The second you burst through the door to Billy’s office, three sets of eyes were immediately on you. A look of pure annoyance settled on Frank’s face when he saw that you had directly disobeyed his order to wait in the truck, and he instantly began to stalk over towards you while grunting under his breath. 

“I told you to wait in the-“

Something in your eyes must have caught his attention, because Frank abruptly stopped dead in his tracks and the irritation plastered on his face quickly shifted into a look you weren’t familiar with seeing on his hardened features. 

Fear.

The movement of someone hastily rising from their chair caught your eye, and your lethal gaze completely bypassed Billy’s evident look of surprise to land on the culprit of your imminent wrath. 

“Y/N, oh thank God. Where the hell have you been? Everyone has been looking for you for-“

Crack. 

The moment your fist collided with Steven’s face, pain shot through your knuckles, and you tore your hand away as if you had touched a hot stove top, clutching your hand to your chest with a tight grimace on your face as you groaned. 

“Oh, fuck!”

Billy’s dark brows rose significantly up his forehead, and his jaw went slack in astonishment. Frank’s eyes nearly doubled in size as he gawked at you in complete shock. Below you, Steven was on the ground, holding his nose and groaning in agony as deep streams of crimson slipped through his fingers. 

“Jesus fucking Christ! What the fuck was that for?” 

“It was you, you son of a bitch!”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about-”

“No I don’t, what the fuck is your problem? You on your period or something, that why you’re acting so fucking crazy?”

Steven’s words only fueled your rage and made you completely blindsided by your own anger. You weren’t thinking clearly, and when Billy came around his desk to stand beside you to assess the situation, you reached out to quickly pull his gun from his holster to aim it directly at Steven, whose expression of exasperation swiftly morphed into pure panic as he stared up at the barrel of the gun in your hand. 

Billy immediately lept into action, grabbing onto your wrist tightly with his right hand to push the gun’s barrel away from Steven’s face while his left hand gripped onto your arm to lock it in place. 

“Whoa whoa whoa, easy, darlin’.”

Behind you, Frank’s boots thudded heavily against the floor in a rush, and you soon felt the heat of his palm against your lower back through the thin material of your shirt. His other large hand reached over Billy’s to grip onto the barrel of the gun, keeping you from pointing it where you wanted to. Normally being so close to Frank that you could feel the tickle of his warm breath against your ear would’ve sent a shiver trickling down your spine, but the fury you felt seemed to singe every nerve ending that would’ve otherwise been affected by the juxtaposition of his gruff voice pleading gently with you. 

“Easy, sweetheart. Gimme the gun. Whatever you think you wanna do right now, you don’t.”

“I want him to admit it.”

Steven swallowed thickly as you spit your venom at him through gritted teeth. Your eyes hadn’t left his once since they locked onto him when you stepped into Billy’s office. He wiped the blood lingering above his thin top lip with the sleeve of his shirt, staining the crisp white fabric a deep shade of maroon, and raised both of his hands slowly in a show of surrender as he stared up at you in trepidation.

“Y/N…whatever you think I did-“

“I don’t think. I know. You’re behind the Defenders of Freedom. All of this shit-all the people that have been hurt, all the people that have died-I almost died because of you.”

Steven let out a nervous chuckle as he shook his head slowly, moving to sit up on his knees as he stared up at you in bewilderment. 

“What? That’s…that’s crazy. I was attacked by them. I don’t know why you would-“

Before he could utter another lie, you lifted your phone in your other hand that wasn’t still gripping onto the gun and started playing the recording you had, causing the entire room to go silent.

“Price! We got a fucking problem here! You said she was supposed to be alone, man. Well she’s not fucking alone! Someone’s fucking here and they’re-“

Cavella’s voice was cut off by the sound of bullets ricocheting around your kitchen. Steven’s eyes went wide with terror once you stopped the recording, a look of fear flashing through them that you had only ever seen Frank bring out in him. That look had power surging through your veins; to finally have that sense of strength over a man who had tried to make you feel small and brittle the entire duration of your relationship. It was intoxicating to be able to stare down into his petrified gaze.

Frank and Billy both immediately went rigid once the recording stopped. Billy’s look of concern for you all of a sudden morphed into an accusatory glare as he slowly turned his head to look down at Steven. One by one, he untangled his fingers from around your wrist and let go of your arm, turning to face Steven fully and stare him down as he towered over him. 

“Frank, let go.”

“Bill-“

“Let her have it.”

“She don’t know how to use it-“

“She’s about to learn.”

The icy edge to Billy’s voice momentarily suspended your anger, and your lips parted slightly, noticing the look of pure disdain clenched in his jaw. Frank slowly came into view beside you, his large hand still clamped around the barrel of the gun, and when you turned to look at him, you could see the anger and concern clashing in his eyes. A muscle feathered in his jaw as he stared into your eyes, the internal battle displayed in the reflection of his almost like a play. You could see his hesitation to let go as much as you could see his own desire to follow Billy’s direction. 

Glancing down at his own hand on the gun, his brows furrowed slightly, and he exchanged a knowing glance with Billy. Giving you one final look, he let out a deep exhale through his large nose, relinquishing his hold on the gun and removing his hand from your lower back to take a step backwards to give you some space. He immediately turned his body to face forward, staring down at Steven with a menacing glare while his index and middle finger twitched at his sides. Flickering your eyes over towards Billy, he gave you a subtle nod of encouragement before focusing his attention back on Steven. 

Sucking in a sharp inhale, you fixated your gaze back on Steven and aimed the gun at him again with more confidence this time. It felt foreign holding a gun for the first time, and it was heavier than you expected, but the weight of the weapon in your hand was nothing compared to the weight of knowing all the hell you had endured the past several months were because of the man on his knees in front of you.

“I wanna hear you admit it.”

Steven’s eyes desperately flickered between the three of you. It was clear he wasn’t getting any sympathy from Frank or Billy, but he was still egotistical enough to think he had some kind of hold on you that he could use to his advantage. He shook his head quickly as he reached a shaky hand out towards you.

“Y/N, this is all a huge misunderstanding. Look, I asked those guys to look after you because-“

“I don’t want any bullshit, Steven. I want the truth. Cavella outed himself and Walker about being involved with the bombings. They weren’t there to look after me, they were there to kidnap me. Why? First you tried to have me killed, and then kidnapped-“

“Whoa whoa, no. That is not at all what was supposed to happen-“ 

“Then what was supposed to happen, Steven?”

“You weren’t supposed to antagonize them! The only reason you became a target is because you pissed them off! If you hadn’t been so fucking-“

Billy took a swift step forward and backhanded Steven across the face, glaring down at him with his lips set in a hard line. 

“I would watch the way you talk to someone pointin’ a fuckin’ gun at you, dipshit.”

Steven clenched his jaw with a wince as he squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a frustrated exhale. 

“Fuckin’ figures you’d be behind this shit. Bombs are a cowards weapon, and that’s exactly what you fuckin’ are.”

Frank’s voice was dangerously low and absolutely dripping with unfiltered hatred. 

“I never hurt anyone. No one was ever supposed to get hurt at all. Look, Cavella and Walker had this group of vets that were already causing a lot of trouble. I…I thought I could use them to my advantage. I made them a deal that if they would do exactly as I said when I said, I’d fund them and keep them hidden and out of prison.”

“How exactly does a homegrown terrorist group advantage you?”

Steven sighed in frustration as he stared up at you, dropping his hands by his sides. The look of indignation in his eyes made your blood feel like molten lava in your veins. You had seen that look countless times when you were together. It was an expression he gave you when he felt like he was pointing out something obvious to you, or felt the need to mansplain something he thought you weren’t intelligent enough to figure out on your own.

“It would’ve helped me win the election.”

Complete disbelief was shot throughout your entire nervous system like a shockwave as you blanched at him with a curt, humorless laugh. 

“You’re fucking joking. You murdered people-“

“No. I didn’t do that. Cavella and Walker were just supposed to blow up a few buildings and make a few stupid threats that I could use as a talking point for my campaign. They were gonna threaten me publically, and that was gonna gain me sympathy points in the polls. They already had a few guys lined up to take the fall for everything, and it was all gonna go down the week before the election. Can you imagine the votes I’d get for taking down a terrorist group? I’d win by a fucking landslide.”

“You are un-fucking-believable.”

“Look, I’ll admit, they got out of hand, alright? I told you, no one was supposed to get hurt at all. Politics is messy. Sometimes you do things you’re not proud of-“

“You’re really trying to excuse what you did-“

“I made a mistake, Y/N. I was trying to fix it-“

“How does kidnapping me fix it?”

Steven dragged his palms down his face in complete exasperation as he shook his head with a dry laugh. 

“I knew a journalist was attacking them in the media but I didn’t realize it was you. I tried to tell Cavella and Walker you were off limits, but they didn’t wanna hear it. I mean, you taunted them relentlessly in the media. So, I agreed to let them kidnap you, but they weren’t actually gonna hurt you. I told them if they did, I’d pull their funding and expose them. They were just supposed to scare you into shutting up-”

Before you had a chance to react, Frank surged forward and struck his fist across Steven’s face hard, sending him flying two feet away from where he was sitting on his knees. When Frank moved to advance towards Steven to unleash more of his rage, Billy thrust his arm across Frank’s chest to halt his movements. 

“Let her finish.”

Your eyes widened at the force Frank had knocked Steven back with. You watched as Steven curled up onto his side, his hand hovering over the fresh gash Frank’s knuckles had torn into his cheek, and you grimaced slightly at the pool of blood leaking past his lips. Steven let out a frustrated yell of pain while clutching at his face.

“Fuck! God…none of this even fucking matters anymore, alright? We have a bigger problem. Someone else knew about Cavella and Walker showing up to Y/N’s place and killed them, and I would think she would be more concerned that they’re still out there somewhere-”

“I did.”

Steven paused his furious rant to look up at Frank, his bloodied face twisted up in absolute confusion. 

“What?”

Frank took a bold step forward, his eyes wild with restrained fury, and his top lip curled up slightly in a menacing snarl as he grit his words out at Steven.

“I killed ‘em.”

Steven blinked a few times in pure dumbfoundment. The puzzlement swimming in his eyes seemed to swirl like a hurricane into a pool of fear before settling into a tide of anger. As he glared between Frank and Billy, he pointed an accusatory bloody finger towards Frank.

“You…you ruined everything! I staged my car being blown up so Homeland would pull you away from her. If you had fucking done as you were told this would’ve all been over in two weeks! You weren’t supposed to be there-”

“Well that’s your fuckin’ stupid ass mistake thinkin’ I would ever leave her alone.”  

Frank was beyond seething at this point, and the boom of his voice echoed in Billy’s office like a loud clap of thunder. But it wasn’t the volume of his words that made you shiver; it was the truth you heard in them. 

Something about Steven’s argument piqued your curiosity, and you stared down at him with narrowed eyes.

“Wouldn’t exposing them also expose you?”

Steven scoffed at your question like it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.

“No, I’m not stupid. I paid them in cash. We only exchanged information verbally, or through a burner phone, so there was nothing tying me to them. If they even tried, I would’ve buried them in charges.“

Your brows furrowed slightly at his implication, letting out a dry laugh as you watched him spit out blood. 

“You mean you would’ve falsified files to get them locked away to hide your own dirty secrets?”

“I’ve been doing it my entire career. You really think I haven’t lost a case because I’m that good? Come on, no lawyer has that string of luck.”

Every dark revelation coming from Steven’s mouth only made your blood blaze even hotter. You momentarily dropped the gun by your side, taking a few steps over towards Steven with a look of absolute fury in your eyes while you smiled humorlessly. 

“I can’t tell you how much I’m going to fucking enjoy watching you burn for this. Guess I’ll be writing about you after all.”

Steve let out a deep laugh, showcasing his bloodstained teeth in a cocky smile as he looked up at you. 

“Princess, have you forgotten who I am? Who my father is? None of this is coming back to me. I told you, I have no direct ties to those overzealous psychos. That little recording you have only proves I sent two officers to watch out for my ex-girlfriend that was in danger. There’s no proof I knew they were involved. And even with your two little witnesses here, it’s all circumstantial evidence. No one is gonna believe you. You have nothing.”

“I’d say we have a confession.”

Steven rolled his eyes as he turned his head to look up at Billy, that nauseating smirk plastered over his lips. 

“Not exactly how a confession works, pretty boy. This would all be hearsay, if it even made it to court.”

Billy arched one of his dark brows, his deep obsidian eyes narrowing slightly with a sparkle of mischief shining in them as his lips stretched into a wolfish grin. He suddenly held up his phone that displayed a recording that was still currently going. 

“Is it?”

Steven’s smirk instantly disappeared realizing that Billy had been silently capturing the entire conversation. Showcasing a victorious smirk of his own, Billy pressed the button to stop the recording and slipped his phone into his pocket. 

Frank’s face was still contorted in barely contained rage while glaring down at Steven as he barked a command. 

“Names. Now.”

Steven swallowed thickly looking up at Frank, glancing between him and Billy in a newfound alarm.

“Okay…look…I’ll give you everything. If…if we can work something out-“

Frank stalked over towards Steven and grabbed him by his neck, lifting him up like a rag doll and shoving him against the wall so hard, it indented the wall in Billy’s office. 

“We ain’t workin’ nothin’ out ‘cept whether you leave this goddamn office breathin’ or not, you got that? Now you can gimme those fuckin’ names, or I’ll tear ‘em outta you.”

Steven gripped onto Frank’s arms with both hands tightly, coughing from the restricted airflow, his ridiculous shoes thrashing against the wall from where Frank had him suspended above the floor.

“Cavella…was in…charge. Walker…was his…partner…I-addresses. I have… addresses…phone numbers…left pocket-“

Frank reached into Steven’s pocket with his free hand, pulling the burner phone out to toss in Billy’s direction. Billy quickly caught it and opened it, and after a few moments of searching through it, snapped it shut with a nod.

“Got it.”

Frank let go of Steven's neck, letting him collapse onto the floor in front of his boots, the corner of his mouth curling up into a snarl as Steven was sent into a coughing fit trying to catch his breath. 

“Pull the trigger, darlin’.”

All three of your heads snapped in Billy’s direction, but he was only looking at you. Your lips parted slightly in surprise, glancing between Steven’s horrified eyes and Billy’s calm ones. 

“What? We…we have his confession-“

Billy crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against his desk, nodding in your direction. 

“We got a confession, but he could say it was coerced, and we got nothin’ else to pin to him. There’s a very real chance daddy could save the day on this one. You wanna risk that?”

A crease of confusion furrowed between your brows, and Billy’s features took on a more serious expression.

“We’ll back you. It would be cut and dry self defense.” 

A look of astonishment blanketed your face when you realized what Billy was offering.

He wanted you to kill Steven.

Your eyes immediately went wide, and you looked over at Frank, hoping to see the same shock that was shining in your own eyes, but you didn’t find that.

Frank was staring at you in that same clash of hesitation and wrath, but you couldn’t detect a single ounce of disagreement with Billy’s offer. A sudden chill nipped at the back of your neck, and you slowly started to shake your head. Frank took a cautious step towards you, reaching out for your hand still holding onto the gun.

“You ain’t gotta do it. Lemme have it.”

“Frank-“

“Give it to me, and go wait in the truck.”

Your brows knit together in perplexity and disappointment as you stared between him and Billy, shaking your head adamantly.

“No.”

“Sweetheart-“

“No! He needs to pay for what he’s done. He and the others need to rot in prison. They need to spend the rest of their miserable lives in a tiny cell, knowing they’ll never get out. That’s what they deserve. They don’t just get to die and get it over with. They’re not getting away with it-“

“No one said they were, darlin’. Give Frank the gun.”

“He’s going to prison.”

Billy stared at you for a moment with an unreadable expression. Letting out an exhale through his nose, he nodded his head slightly in acceptance and straightened out his tie.

“If that’s what you want.”

Clutching onto the handle of the gun tightly, you glanced between Billy and Frank, noticing the polar difference in their expressions. Billy seemed calm and collected while Frank looked like he was seconds away from unleashing his wrath on Steven. Despite the power the two of them held, the decision was yours.

“Call Homeland.”

»»———　　———««

Watching Steven getting hauled away in handcuffs should’ve filled you with a sense of relief, but as you sat in the large conference room alone and watched Homeland agents scramble around the building through the floor to ceiling glass walls, there was a feeling of unease twisting your stomach into anxious knots. 

Your thoughts were interrupted when a woman with shoulder length chocolate curls and espresso tinted eyes pushed open the door to the conference room. Her gaze was somewhat intense, and captivating, but there was a tight smile on her lips when she approached you and held out her hand.

“Y/N Y/L/N, I’m agent Dinah Madani with Homeland Security. I’ve been working on your case.”

Reaching your hand out to take hers, you noticed she had a firm grasp. When you made the connection with her words in your head, a tiny smile tugged at the corner of your mouth.

“You’re Frank’s friend.”

Dinah lifted one of her perfectly arched dark brows in playful curiosity as a more candid and genuine soft smile graced her lips. 

“Friend is a…strong word. But for all intents and purposes, sure.”

She gave you a knowing look, and you simply nodded in silent understanding as the tiny smile pulling at the edge of your mouth reached the center of your lips. Dinah took a seat beside you and leaned back in the chair slightly, letting out a deep exhale as her gaze flickered between the agents currently interviewing Billy and Frank before landing back on you with a softer expression.

“You know…what you did, it was brave. Incredibly reckless, to taunt two psychopaths with loaded guns and a hobby of blowing shit up, but brave. And extremely clever.”

That lingering sensation of dread crept up your spine again, causing you to shudder. The weight of the past few months, and the last seventy-two hours especially, bubbled in your stomach like bile threatening to erupt. There was a question that had been echoing in your head for the past forty-five minutes, one you were afraid to know the answer to.

“Is it enough?”

Dinah tilted her head to the side slightly as she stared over at you, her dark brows twinged with confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“The recordings…his confession…is it enough?”

Hearing the worriment that trembled in your voice, Dinah’s features softened as the blurriness of your apprehension finally became clear, and she understood exactly what you were asking. She reached a hand over to firmly place on top of yours and leaned in so that she was staring directly into your eyes while she spoke in a strong and confident tone.

“I will personally make sure this son of a bitch goes down, and goes down hard. I don’t care if his father is richer than God, Steven Price is going to pay for what he did. They all will. I promise.”

There was a quiet ferocity to Dinah, and you got the impression that she was a woman with zero tolerance for bullshit, but despite her intensity, she made you feel relaxed. It almost reminded you of your early interactions with Frank. 

“Thank you.”

The blazing passion in her eyes cooled off the tiniest bit when you said that, and you got the feeling those were two words she didn’t hear often. Before Dinah could respond, the door to the conference room creaked open, and that fire was burning brightly in her eyes once again as she stared down the intruder. You thought she might have been glaring at Frank for some reason, but when you looked over your shoulder, you were surprised to see it was Billy.

He stood on the opposite side of the table with his hands in his pockets, looking at Dinah with a faint smirk on his lips that almost looked arrogant, and a rogue twinkle in his eyes.

“Madani.”

Dinah sat up straighter in her seat as she stared intently over at Billy, not even bothering to plaster a cordial smile on her lips.

“Russo.”

There was a tension lingering between the two of them like a dense and heavy fog, and your eyes darted between them in total curiosity. Billy cleared his throat and squared his shoulders as he gestured towards you with his chin.

“Mind if I have a word with her alone?”

Instead of answering him, Madani turned her attention towards you, raising one of her brows in silent questioning. After giving her a subtle nod, she looked over at Billy warily out of the corner of her eye and let out a heavy exhale through her nose, giving you a nod of her own and rising from her seat. 

“I’ll be outside.”

As she made her way over towards the conference door to leave, her and Billy’s eyes were locked on one another in an almost strained staring contest. But while Billy’s eyes reflected amusement, Madani stared at Billy in a look that resembled…suspicion. Once it was just you and Billy in the room, you looked over at him in complete puzzlement with an arched brow.

“What did you do to piss off Homeland Security?”

Billy let out a dark chuckle as he rounded the long, deep mahogany conference table, unbuttoning his suit jacket to take a seat next to you.

“We uh…used to date.”

For some reason, that confession caught you off guard. It was hard to picture someone like Billy with someone like Madani. Granted, she was just as attractive as he was, but their personalities seemed so…different. Glancing down at your hands, you let out a dry and humorless short laugh.

“I guess you really fucked up.”

Billy’s sharp features contorted into a look of faux offense, but the grin on his lips gave away his true feelings.

“What makes you so sure it was my fault?”

Turning your head slightly to give him a pointed look, he let out a deep chuckle and nodded as he leaned back in the chair and glanced around the empty conference room.

“Fair enough.”

Staring down at your hand that you had punched Steven with, you noticed that your knuckles had begun to swell, and the skin was changing into the early shades of a bruise. So much adrenaline had been coursing through your body, you hadn’t felt any pain at all until now. You could barely tighten your fingers into a weak fist without feeling a sharp tenderness, and there was dried blood around the stitches in your palm from clutching the gun so tightly.

A gun that Billy had wanted you to pull the trigger on.

“I wasn’t going to shoot him.”

“I know. You couldn’t have even if you wanted to.”

Shifting your gaze to look over at Billy in total confusion, there was a small smile on his lips as he looked back at you. He slowly crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head to the side while gazing softly at you.

“The safety was on.”

All of a sudden, everything clicked.

That’s why Frank let go of the gun.

He had seen that the safety was on and knew you couldn’t do any damage. A surprised scoff left your lips as you shook your head slowly while all these new pieces fit into the puzzle. But as you ran your fingers through your hair with your uninjured hand, there was one question that was still missing an answer. You turned your head to stare at Billy inquisitively.

“Then why did you say-”

Billy shook his head and leaned over in his seat closer towards you, resting his elbows on his thighs.

“I was just tryin’ to scare him. He spent months terrorizin’ you, I thought it was only fair we scare the shit outta him too. I’m sorry if I took it too far, darlin’. But, I knew you wouldn’t do it, even if the safety wasn’t on.”

The way he said that with such conviction struck something within you, and you sat up a little straighter as you furrowed your brows slightly.

“What makes you say that?”

Billy instantly picked up on the challenging tone lacing your question, and he let out a light chuckle while looking at you with one of his dark brows arched. 

“Besides the fact you don’t know how to use a gun?”

He took a moment to let his teasing words linger in the space between you, letting out an amused snort at the way you pursed your lips and lifted your brows defiantly. 

“Cause that ain’t you, darlin’. Besides, Frank wouldn’t let you do somethin’ like that. He woulda done it himself to keep your conscience clear.”

As if on cue, Frank pushed through the door of the conference room with an ice pack in one hand and a first aid kit in the other. He glanced between you and Billy, his dark brows slightly knit together before his gaze landed on you, and he gestured loosely with the ice pack.

“Thought you might need this for that right hook, Rocky.”

Billy threw his head back and let out a hearty laugh while you struggled to fight the grin that threatened to take over your lips as you glanced down at your slightly swollen hand. Billy stood up from the chair and buttoned his suit jacket, lightly squeezing your shoulder.

“That was impressive. Remind me to never piss you off.”

While Billy left the conference room to speak to some of the guys that worked for him, Frank took his previous spot in the chair next to you and set the ice pack and first aid kit on the table.

“Lemme see.”

Letting out a soft sigh, you slowly placed your hand into his larger one and winced as he gingerly brushed his thumb over your bruised knuckles.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Are we lookin’ at the same thing?”

There was a faint teasing tone to his words, and as you lifted your gaze to meet his eyes, you realized it was because he had repeated your own back to you. You were suddenly brought back to the night at the bar when you had been in this exact same scenario with Frank, only now the roles were reversed. Now he was the one patching up your hand.

A smile bloomed across your lips like the first delicate bud in spring knowing that he remembered that. Frank always remembered the little things.

“Alright, fine. It’s bad.”

Frank turned your hand over carefully, swabbing at the dried blood around your stitches with an alcohol wipe which caused you to hiss from the sting, and elicited a quiet apology from him. To both of your surprise, you hadn’t ripped open your stitches. Frank applied some antibiotic cream to your stitches and gently placed the ice pack over your swollen knuckles, the icy chill instantly offering a little bit of relief to the throbbing under your angry and taut skin.

But it was the way that Frank tenderly held your wrist with his other free hand as he held the ice pack to your bruised knuckles that a heated shiver tumbling down your back. 

“Be sore for a few days, but it ain’t broken.”

Frank lifted his head to look at you, his eyes faintly narrowed as he cocked his head to the side and studied you curiously.

“I thought you said you ain’t ever hit anyone before?”

A look of sheer puzzlement blanketed your own features while looking back at Frank, unsure of the implications behind his question.

“I haven’t.”

Frank’s thick brows lifted up his forehead a few centimeters in surprise as his deep brown eyes wandered over you, a soft chuckle leaving him as he shook his head slowly and looked back down at your hand.

“Coulda fooled me. Hell of a fuckin’ hit for your first try.”

His voice was dripping with pride, and that coupled with the tiny grin on his lips filled you with a giddiness that made the pain in your hand almost disappear. 

But all at once, that giddiness disappeared when a chilling revelation washed over you like a bucket of unforgiving ice water.

The Defenders of Freedom had been caught. Steven was going to stand trial, and eventually be sent to prison.

And there wasn’t a reason for Frank to be your bodyguard anymore.

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawkfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

*if your tag is not working, or you changed your username, please let me know! also if you’re tagged in the comments, it’s bc I can only do 50 mentions on the actual post!

[gureumz]

burn

rating: explicit

member: jungwon

notes: fem!reader, reader is a couple years older than him, acquaintances to lovers, medieval/renaissance (?) royalty au (i made the time period as vague as possible so anywhere from the 1500s to 1700s should be fine i guess), talks of marriage, loss of virginity, unprotected sex

a/n: IMPORTANT! i was hesitant to put this out at first because i know there's tension when it comes to explicit content regarding jungwon, but i didn't make this out to be anything too crazy, so no hard/taboo kinks as i don't feel quite okay writing those for him as of now. i did enjoy writing this piece as i'm a history buff and love the drama. of royal courts so,,,please enjoy!

it was getting too much.

the stares, the "innocent" touches, the silences that followed each strained conversation.

you had been patient. you had been steadfast. you had stood your ground.

but the flicker of desire inside you was slowly catching on, and you know, it would soon be roaring fiercely despite your efforts to tamp it down.

you gather your skirts and trudge on out of the library, knowing the princess would be looking for you, given the length of time you've been away. the hallway is quiet, as you expected. the end of supper time is drawing near, and everyone in the castle would soon retire to their private chambers.

the princess was dining with her family in her father's royal suite, along with a handful of courtiers and ladies-in-waiting, much like yourself. you had excused yourself for a moment under the guise that you were in need of the privy, but in truth, you could not bear to be in the room with him any longer.

he'd been staring, longer than he should be, and you were afraid that someone would take notice.

you had stood behind the princess, curtsying briefly before asking to take your leave. she waved you off without a second thought, though you did not miss the questioning glint in her eye as she did so.

you caught his gaze briefly just before you left.

prince jungwon had smiled in your direction, seemingly amused at your flustered state.

you suddenly blank as you turn a corner, your shoulder colliding with something, causing you to stumble backward. you reach out instinctively to steady yourself, just as a hand grabs you by the arm.

"my lady," a voice croons in your ear, and you feel your dinner churning inside you.

you straighten yourself out, smoothing down the wrinkles in your dress as you look jungwon in the eye.

"your grace," you begin. "i was just on the way back to supper."

"no need," jungwon informs with a tilt of his head. "supper has ended. my sister does seem to want to know where you've wandered off to, though."

you swallow thickly. "i will return to her chambers right away."

you bow, hoping he would drop the conversation, but you feel his hand lay gently on your shoulder. you freeze, acutely aware that no man who isn't your lover or husband should be touching you like this in public.

"i'm sure she would not mind if you stayed out a little longer?" jungwon says as you fiddle with the lace trim on your bodice.

"doing what, your grace?" you question, turning back to look at him.

jungwon smiles, his dimples prominent in the firelit hall.

"take a walk with me," jungwon offers.

"if she asks where you've been, you can always say you were with me."

you draw in a breath. "i don't think that would be wise."

"my sister has five other ladies-in-waiting to attend to her. one would not be amiss," jungwon tries to convince you, taking your hand in his.

"what i meant was, it would not be appropriate to be left alone with you," you protest, watching as he lifts your hand to his lips, brushing them gently over your knuckles.

your skin tingles with a feeling you can't quite place.

"and why not?" jungwon asks, running his thumb over the spot where he had kissed your hand.

you look into his large, cat-like eyes. you're bewildered at how dashing he looks in this proximity, the sharp line of his nose exaggerated by the shadows cast by the torches around you. his lips curve into another one of his handsome smiles, and the way he looks at you is more than enough cause for you to shake inwardly with want.

"you know why," you finally answer. "it is not proper."

jungwon cocks his head to the side as if waiting for you to continue.

"we're not betrothed, or known lovers, for that matter. the direction we're heading..."

you pause, hoping jungwon would understand what you're talking about.

"it's dangerous."

"do you not hold any affection for me, lady ______?" jungwon addresses you formally, perhaps a jest, given the smirk playing on his lips.

"i had thought you did," jungwon continues, reaching out to toy with a loose strand of your hair that seemed to have fallen from the intricate braids that decorate your head.

"why would you think that?" you challenge. your heart beats twice as fast now.

the flicker of flames begins to crackle.

"you do not throw yourself at me like the other ladies in this castle do," jungwon replies, his thumb ghosting over your cheek and down your jaw.

"you avoid me, make any excuse to separate yourself from me," jungwon goes on.

"but when you do find yourself in my presence, your eyes cannot seem to leave mine."

you inhale sharply.

it's true. much like earlier, you make such efforts to create as much distance as possible between you and jungwon. like a fox slinking away from its predator.

but to you, jungwon was like a city cat: sly and clever. despite the couple of years you had on him, he was always one step ahead. you could never escape him. it didn't matter how grand his family's castle was, you will always find your way to each other.

"do you hold any affection for me, your grace?" you ask, raising a brow.

jungwon chuckles at this.

"of course."

your eyes widen at his admission and a laugh escapes the prince's lips.

"you thought i would shy away from such a confession?" jungwon taunts, stepping closer, his hands resting on your waist.

the fire burns brighter, still.

jungwon leans in and panic fills you. you were not in one of the castle's secluded corners where shadows are ready to conceal whatever is to come next. anyone could walk by and find you and the prince in this compromising position.

but all is forgotten when jungwon presses his lips against yours, gentle and cautious, as if wary that he might scare you off.

as a lady of a respectable background, you have always been reminded by your family to keep your virtue with you. you are not to mess with boys and no such inappropriate behavior shall be tolerated from you.

as a lady of a respectable background, you had your way around this.

this is not the first time you've been kissed, but the weak peck of lips against your own when you were but a young girl was nothing compared to the way jungwon's lips seems to be melting against yours.

you pull jungwon closer by the front of his tunic, feeling the firm muscles shifting beneath.

"we mustn't," you protest weakly against his lips. "not here."

jungwon pulls away, breathing heavily, eyes dark as he gazes at you. you stare back at him, anticipation coursing through your body.

what now?

"to my chambers," jungwon whispers, grasping your hand in his. you start to protest as he pulls you along, but he shushes you.

"quickly," jungwon urges, dashing down the hallway towards his room.

luckily for both of you, your destination had been nearby, and no guards are on patrol on this side of the castle. you arrive in front of the heavy double doors of jungwon's room, both of you out of breath and brimming with feelings you did not care to address.

jungwon pushes you against the hard wooden doors, lips pressing up against yours once more. you let out a surprised sound, but it's caught in your throat when you feel jungwon's hand running down the side of your leg. he dips down, grabbing the back of your knee, before hooking your leg around his waist.

you gasp, feeling him press up against you. you feel something hard beneath his breeches.

the flames are catching on, moving up farther and farther.

"your grace," you start, increasingly worried that someone would see you.

"forgive me," jungwon says with a sheepish grin. "restraint is hard to come by when you're around."

you flush at his words, but before you can reply, jungwon turns the knob to one side of the door, hurriedly pushing you inside before letting it close behind him. he turns the lock in place and lets the second steel bar fall across the wood, ensuring the utmost privacy for the two of you.

"your grace," you begin once more.

"jungwon," he says pointedly. "you may call me by my given name."

you gulp, the situation finally catching up to you. "jungwon."

"i...i do not wish to give myself to someone i will not marry," you explain, holding jungwon at arm's length. he examines your face, gently brushing your hair away from your forehead.

"we won't do anything you don't want to," jungwon reassures, placing a kiss on your forehead.

"but that's precisely it," you say, circling your arms around jungwon's neck.

"i want to do everything," you whisper.

"i want to do everything with you."

jungwon raisies an eyebrow, a grin tugging at his lips.

"are you the one proposing to me, my lady?" jungwon teases, his hand pressing gently on your lower abdomen. he travels down further between your legs, rubbing you through your gown.

you sigh, clutching at jungwon's clothes. you lean forward to leave a trail of kisses down his neck, enjoying the way he groans softly.

"is there any other woman you wish to marry?" you ask, smiling against his neck.

"no," jungwon answers simply, taking you by surprise as he pushes you towards his perfectly made-up bed, plush with the finest covers and blankets.

you stumble backward onto the cushiony surface, propping yourself up on your elbows as you watch jungwon undo the strings of his breeches. you gasp as he lets them fall, exposing all of his lower body to you.

jungwon catches your eye and leans down, kissing you with newfound vigor.

the fire crackles, just shy of bursting into wild flames.

"we can stop," jungwon murmurs as he pulls away. "whatever you want, my love, i will follow."

you shiver at the endearment, your fingers gently threading through jungwon's hair. with your other hand, you reach down to gather your skirt around your waist.

"i want you," you whisper, kissing jungwon sweetly.

you lay back down on the mattress, watching as jungwon eyes your exposed core with undeniable lust. jungwon bites his lip, guiding his straining length to your entrance. you feel a mild burn as he pushes in, the wet squelch of your arousal reaching your ears as he slips further into you.

you have had a man down there before, but merely with his fingers. the thickness of jungwon's cock contrasts with anything you've felt before, stretching you painfully, but you urge yourself to persist, clawing at jungwon's sleeves.

"my love, my dear," jungwon says, stilling over you.

"wait," you plead. "just, wait."

jungwon kisses you tenderly, stroking one side of your face with his thumb, perhaps in an effort to soothe you. you take increasingly deeper breaths, letting yourself relax in jungwon's embrace.

jungwon gives an experimental thrust, barely there, and you groan, but at this moment, the pain is mixed with a feeling that has you curling your toes.

"again," you pant, looking directly at jungwon's eyes. "slowly, my love."

jungwon moves again, carefully watching your expression. you gasp, lips parting as the sting gives way to a delicious throb within you.

"more," you beg this time. "please, i need to feel you."

jungwon groans, his hips snapping up as he gives in to his instincts.

"oh!" you cry out as the sensations come crashing down on you at once. it feels good, much better than your own fingers or anyone else's. you watch as he disappears and reappears with each thrust, the image so lewd and new to you that it keeps you in a trance.

"look at me, ______," jungwon says lowly. you obey, peering up at the young man. he has a frenzied look in his eyes, wild with something burning inside him.

the flames roar, engulfing you, him, your bodies.

jungwon grabs your hips, forcing you further down his bed. you throw your head back, relishing in the way he seems to go even deeper. you lock your legs around him, never wanting this feeling to end.

the bed creaks with the effort of holding up your passionate lovemaking, and you worry for a fraction of a second if anyone can hear. as if reading your thoughts, jungwon places a lingering kiss on your forehead.

"i think...i plan to marry you within the year," jungwon supplies between labored breaths. "hell, before the next moon if father allows."

you giggle, elated at jungwon's words.

"hardly a choice now that i've given my maidenhood to you," you comment mischievously. one side of jungwon's mouth raises in a smirk before he dives down to latch at one side of your neck.

"you're mine, love," jungwon declares. "all mine."

you preen at his words, his pace picking up. you're left breathless as he thrusts madly in and out of you. your world is spinning but at the very center of it is jungwon. sweet, handsome jungwon.

"i'm about to—"

"inside," you blurt out without second thought. jungwon's mouth hangs open at your decision, a question evidently making its way out of him.

"you'll get it on my dress, otherwise, and that would raise more questions," you interrupt once more, your breath hitching as jungwon's nails dig into your side.

"by the gods," jungwon curses beneath his breath. "i might have to wed you within a fortnight."

"please," you mewl. "want nothing more than to be your wife, to be yours."

jungwon grunts, pressing a hand down on your abdomen. you yelp, feeling a sudden pressure inside you. it had been a slow thrum of something minutes before, but now a strange sensation grips at you from within.

"s-something's happening," you worry, grasping jungwon's shoulder.

"you're about to finish, my love," jungwon says, pressing down even harder on your belly. you writhe, feeling as if you're about to explode.

"it'll feel good, i promise," jungwon reassures, pressing his lips to your temple. his movements are turning erratic, sweat dripping down his forehead with effort.

"fuck, i'm—"

before jungwon can finish his sentence, he moans loudly in your ear, sinking fully to the hilt inside of you. you feel him spasm inside you and the movement brushes against a spot that has you coming undone, pleasure coursing through every vein in your body.

you cling onto each other, trembling and moaning each other's names.

a minute passes by as you both calm down, skin glistening in the dim light of the dying flames in the fireplace. jungwon is the first to pull away, watching you as you try to catch your breath.

"you look absolutely stunning, my love," jungwon praises, kissing you on the cheek.

you smile, the ache in your body starting to make itself known.

"let me call one of the servants to have a bath drawn for you," jungwon offers, reaching over to the row of service bells next to his bed.

you sit up, letting your gown fall over your legs, concealing any indication of the past hour.

"i think i should be the one to call for them from my own room," you suggest, pulling jungwon back. you snake your arms around his torso, kissing him behind his ear.

"they might grow suspicious," you add, laying your cheek against his firm back.

"very well, then," jungwon agrees, prying himself from your arms. he swiftly dresses, straightening his disheveled hair. he sees you watching and he smiles, taking your face in his and giving you what seemed to be the hundredth kiss that night.

"i suppose you don't want me walking you to your room, either?" jungwon asks, helping you up from his bed.

you shake your head, working out the creases in your skirt and sleeves.

"let's not push our luck, my prince," you warn, patting jungwon's cheek.

---

you enter your bedroom, exhausted and slightly worried. you tried to find the princess to provide a semblance of an explanation but she was nowhere to be found. not in her own chambers, not in the library, not in the parlor. you decided after nearly half an hour of looking that you would handle the situation tomorrow.

you slide the large metal lock of your bedroom door into place, securing you in your bedroom for now. you turn, nearly screaming at the figure standing before you.

"gods!" you shriek, backing into the door, painfully banging your head against the wood.

"oh, shut it," the princess says, pulling you away from the door. she maneuvers you toward your quaint sitting corner, pulling a chair back and urging you to take a seat.

"now," she begins. "i'm not mad. i'm thrilled, to be honest."

"have you worked out a wedding date with my brother, yet?"

[shelli-gator]

Does anyone else ever think about what would have happened if Edward hadn't woken up/stopped in time in A Shed for Edward? It was dramatic even WITHOUT a head-on collision. The way the choir goes from cherubic to downright ominous, ramping up as he gets closer, people cowering at the station because they can see the impact coming. There's a mother there shielding her child, and I think, personally, if Edward had seen that it would have gutted him (what's to say he didn't?). And it's so poignant that it's Percy he almost hits. When Percy yelps in fear after their buffers have connected Edward recoils from him, horrified by what he almost did. Ashamed that he'd scared him at all.

[Personally, I think it's absurd that Edward wouldn't have just wanted to go home to Tidmouth after that. Period. It doesn't matter if Philip stopped keeping him awake. He doesn't have any trouble sleeping at Tidmouth, you know the place where he's spent most of his life? Where he carved himself a place among his peers? Anyway.]

But let's say he hadn't. Let's say he'd collided with Percy; sure, he wasn't going super fast, but I think from the way the scene played out it's implied it would have hurt, at the very least. How catastrophic would it be? Who would fair worse? I love drama and angst, I want Percy to fair worse. James at the works getting repaired and he wakes to his friends around him and it's like his nightmares came to be in the night (he even dreams about almost hitting Philip at Knapford, how relevant is that?). And Edward is beside himself. He's never really hurt anyone through his mistakes, at least not like this. I wanted to write something about this. Maybe I will, but I'm super busy with commissions and everything else so it won't be a while yet. So I'm happy talking about it.

[Side note: I think if anyone is good at empathizing with the pain and regret that comes with hurting someone through his mistakes, it's James.]

[denimbex1986]

'Since its debut screening at Telluride, All Of US Strangers has been greeted with critical raves, multiple awards nominations and filmgoers moved to tears by its quietly devastating story. Set in modern London, though featuring periodic detours to one of its southern suburban towns, it tells of a screenwriter, Adam (Andrew Scott), who tentatively begins a relationship with a charismatic neighbour, Harry (Paul Mescal).

As the romance develops and deepens, Adam is drawn back to the place where he grew up and the suburban childhood home he left when he was 11 after his parents died in a car crash. There, both his mum (Claire Foy) and dad (Jamie Bell) appear to still be alive, just as he remembers them from decades earlier.

Writer/director Andrew Haigh (Weekend, 45 Years) used the home he himself was raised in as the location for the scenes featuring Adam and his parents. It lends a deeply personal resonance to a film that received seven prizes at December’s British Independent Film Awards and is now in contention for six Baftas, including for outstanding British film.

Screen International spoke to the director about four key scenes from the film - spoilers follow.

Adam and Harry meet for the first time

The scene: When a fire alarm drives him from his tower block apartment, Adam sees Harry looking down from a window. Soon after, a drunken Harry turns up at Adam’s door. The pair have a flirtatious conversation, but Adam turns Harry away.

Andrew Haigh: “We found it complicated to find a building to double for Adam’s tower block, because they are usually owned by multinationals who don’t want you to film in them. But we found a building in Stratford, on the edge of London, which suited a person like Adam who has locked himself away from the world and has a routine that keeps him in that aloneness.

“We did the interior of Adam’s apartment on a soundstage, and had big LED panels with the outside of London projected on them. I wanted the film to have a sort of strangeness from the very beginning that felt slightly shifted from reality, and those LED panels gave it that. Director of photography Jamie Ramsey was able to do something slightly different with the focus - the deep background outside is more in focus than it ever would be if you were shooting in a real apartment. That was enormously useful in bringing a slight oddness to being in this room.

“When Adam opens the door on Harry, we first see Harry’s face in a mirror on the wall. There are a lot of mirrors and reflections in the film, and I like it here because it’s as if Adam is being faced with a reflection of himself — someone else who is intensely alone and is reaching out and looking for help. It was a hard scene for Paul — he’s got to play drunk, be flirtatious and sexual, but also some desperation has to be leaking out underneath the surface. It can’t just be a ‘meet cute’, there has to be a reason why Adam shuts the door on him.

“I can’t tell you how many different sounds we listened to with Joakim Sundström and the sound team. There are so many levels of sound going on within this scene — different air vents, different tones, the deep rumble of a lift coming up and disappearing. I love also the moment of silence between them when it gets really quiet. If people are eating popcorn in the cinema, they are going to have to stop eating at that moment.

“There was a bit of dialogue at the end of the scene where Harry got quite angry with Adam. But it just didn’t feel right in the end, it felt like it was pushing it too far in one direction.”

Adam comes out to his mother in the kitchen

The scene: Returning to his childhood home in Sanderstead, Croydon, for the second time, Adam finds his mum alone. Over tea and flapjacks in the kitchen, he tells her that he is gay. Her discomfort and judgmental attitude make for an uncomfortable encounter.

Haigh: “What is important about this scene is that it is doing two things. It is about a son telling his mother that he is gay, but it is also about an adult living now being reminded of what it felt like to be gay in the 1980s. I remember growing up at that time [Haigh was born in 1973] and how Adam’s mum feels is how everybody thought about gay people. It was a rough time to be gay, and suddenly Adam is back there again - all this icky pain starts to bubble up as his mum is talking.

“I didn’t want to demonise the mother. It is clear to me, and Claire plays it exactly like this, that she absolutely adores her son. But she lives in a time when her opinions have been formed and forged by the culture she lives in. Claire knew she had to be that person from the ’80s, and she absolutely threw herself into how her character would have felt. It’s a hard thing to do, and she did it beautifully.

“The role of tea is paramount and we talked a lot about it. When does the mother pour? When do they just hold their cups? When does Adam play with the flapjacks? They’re all fundamental to understanding the subtext. The mother has made flapjacks, something he always loved as a kid, and at the end she decides not to eat them. That’s quite brutal, as if this beautiful, nostalgic thing has been fundamentally altered.

“Costume designer Sarah Blenkinsop wanted all the costumes to have texture. You know what the teal velour tracksuit Claire wears in this scene feels like to touch, and that is another way to drag you back into the past. The whole film is trying to find ways to transport us back to a past, and if your mother had worn something like that, it would be something that you would always remember. The costumes and the way the house is decorated are to remind the audience we are in the middle of the 1980s.

“The house we shot in was not a big house. It’s a small, semi-detached house with a whole crew in there trying to film the scene. But I love the limitations because it means no-one can be in the room apart from you, the actors, the camera [operator] and the boom op. Everyone else is away, and it makes it feel so intimate.”

Adam and Harry go to the Royal Vauxhall Tavern

The scene: After having sex in Adam’s apartment, Adam and Harry go to a nightclub. There they drink, dance and snort keta­mine. The evening becomes dreamlike and euphoric as the drug kicks in. They kiss passionately on the dancefloor.

Haigh: “Before this, there is a beautiful moment with Adam and his dad where you feel a deep connection and that something has been solved between them. There is a lightness to Adam at this point; a burden has been lifted and he wants to go out and show the world he’s in the early stages of a romantic relationship.

“I used to go to the Vauxhall Tavern all the time in the 1990s. There was a night called Duckie on Saturday night, which I was always going to. I lived in nearby Kennington at the time and it was a special place. It was an alternative venue that played such a wide range of music, so for me it felt the only choice to shoot in.

“Club scenes are difficult to get right, and the only way to get them right is to feel like you are in a club — that it’s late at night, you’re sweating and you’ve been dancing too long. So we played music for ages, and everyone was dancing before the camera was even rolling. We shot during the day in the height of summer with 150 people, so it was really hot and sweaty. But it needed to be loud and feel like you were being pushed from one side to another.

“The lighting in the club was limited, so we put in lots of vibrant pinks and deep purples. There is something sexy and dark and erotic about that colour scheme that speaks to gay clubs of the past. The scene feels so different from the rest of the film, but it also recalls colours that we use elsewhere. I love how the lighting scheme develops and how we start to make it stranger and a little bit uncomfortable.

“I don’t think we planned the shot where Adam and Harry kiss, with the light streaming behind them. But I wanted them to kiss each other and the light was behind them and it felt like such a magical moment. It’s like the whole world disappears around them and you’re just focusing on this beautiful, sensual, wondrous moment. They’re gay people in the safe space of a queer club and they can be exactly who they are, in public.

“There’s no point pretending the club scene is not associated with drug-taking — it has been since the dawn of time. You may as well be matter-of-fact about that, rather than try to make a moral argument.”

Adam and his parents go to the High Hat diner

The scene: Sensing their time together is drawing to a close, Adam goes with his parents to an American-themed diner he enjoyed visiting as a child. There they ask about how they died, before departing.

Haigh: “I knew there would have to be a goodbye scene. This film would make no sense if the parents were constantly going to be there. They’ve come back to help Adam, and he has got to the stage where he doesn’t need them anymore.

“Beginning the scene with ‘If I Could See (Through The Eyes Of A Child)’ by Patsy Cline was a bit of a random choice. I wanted a song that spoke to the Americana of the location — a theme restaurant in a brutalist shopping centre that was actually a TGI Fridays. When I was a kid, the height of glamour was going to a Happy Eater or Little Chef by the side of a motorway, which were the British version of American diners. The most exciting moments from when you were young can be so strange when you look back at them.

“I love the triangular composition, where you see all three heads. You’ve got the parents on both sides of Adam, helping him move forward like angels on his shoulder. They’re like an extension of Adam’s mind, and of course you could see the film that way if you wanted to - that all of this is only existing within his head.

“We had a lot of questions about how the parents would vanish. I wanted it to be simple because that is what happens when you lose someone. We used an optical effect to have the light in their eyes gently fade. And then they are gone, and it’s just Adam alone with three milkshakes on the table and nobody else around him.

“Crying on camera is a strange thing — it has to feel real and honest or it looks like it’s been forced. With Andrew, there was no holding him back; there was nothing he could do but cry in that moment. It was an emotional scene to shoot and it took some stamina. We spent a whole day on it, and half of the crew were crying.

“Emilie Levienaise-Farrouch did a wonderful job with the music. She was smart in saying we didn’t want much in this scene, and that overplaying it would make it far too sentimental. It is on the edge of sentimentality anyway, but you’ve got to stay on that edge; you can’t fall over the top of it. It was a real balancing act, and I think the way her score builds and shifts and rises is really powerful.”'

[kzmeru]

Reqs opennn… can i req himeru n reader cuddling to sleep :3

ALSOOK can i be 🔮anon ?

dreaming of you

📨 HiMERU x gn!reader

notes — ! hi.. welcome 🔮anon :3 i could not think of a title oh my god is my title drama series making a comeback .. also not much dialogue erm ,,,, this is kind of. short sincecits like 4 am and im sleep deprived 😞 BUT its all mushy im giggling this means so much to me. THEYRE JUST A CRINGEFAIL COUPLE IM SO NORMAL

Nights like these were — considering the busy schedule the both of you have — were extremely rare. It wasn't often HiMERU gets to hold you in his arms, vice versa. So, when he finally gets the chance to, he's made it an excuse to never let you go and he's making sure to be as close to you as possible.

It was silent. Not in an awkward silence way, but in a comfortable silence where there were so little to no words said, but seemed so meaningful.

With HiMERU holding you close against his own body, it felt warmer underneath the blanket. It wasn't like you were complaining, it was cold outside, after all. Your thumb soothingly rubbing across his, while his other hand gently strokes your head.

It's just as they'd always say; neither of you can really be apart from each other for long periods of time. Despite showing little to no affection when you aren't behind closed doors, everyone around could immediately tell how inseparable the both of you were. Practically attached from one another.

"Meru… I'm going to fall asleep…" You tiredly looked up at the man. His eyes were already closed, yet it was visibly obvious that he was still awake.

HiMERU hums in response, his eyes fluttering open to return the tired, yet loving gaze with a soft smile.

"I'll make sure to make you dream of me tonight." HiMERU chuckles lightly, lips colliding with your temple as he continued to stroke your head, in hopes of making you fall asleep quicker.

You shake your head lightly, pressing your body closer against his — if it was even possible at this point, considering how close you already were.

"Goodnight, my love."

[myfuckingbudapestmovie]

Carriage on Mariahilferstrasse #wien

"Carriage Meets Tramstop: A Timeless Intersection on Mariahilfer Straße"

Ah, Mariahilfer Straße, where past and present collide in the most Vienna way possible: a carriage rolling through cobblestones alongside a modern tram stop. It's like watching a period drama and a sci-fi flick at the same time—except the lead characters are a horse and a squeaky Flexity tram.

The carriage trots in with a certain old-world arrogance, its horses likely questioning their life choices as they share the road with cyclists and e-scooters who haven’t yet mastered the art of not swerving. Meanwhile, the tram sits at the stop, humming its electric tune, its passengers pretending they’re too cosmopolitan to notice the smell of horses wafting through the air.

It's a tourist photographer's dream: the romance of 19th-century transportation juxtaposed against 21st-century public transit efficiency (or lack thereof, depending on how punctual that tram feels today). The carriage riders, typically donning their best "I just spent €100 on this ride" expressions, seem blissfully unaware that they're being outpaced by pedestrians window-shopping at Zara.

And yet, there’s something poetic about this moment. The horses, with their rhythmic clopping, remind us of simpler times when "traffic jams" were just too many carriages at a royal ball. The tram, on the other hand, offers a reality check, whisking people off to their modern responsibilities while they scroll TikTok and side-eye the tourists.

So, next time you’re on Mariahilfer Straße, take a moment to appreciate this peculiar blend of eras. Just watch out for the occasional horse droppings—they’re not as nostalgic as they seem.

[torturedcoveydepartment]

Movie recommendations from an amateur cinephile who does enjoy a broad range of different genres, techniques and feels on a movie. I made sure to get as far away as possible from eventual spoilers, yet describe the arts in capturing ways :)

Stalker (1979), directed by Andrei Tarkovsky, is a haunting and visually poetic exploration of human longing, belief, and existential mystery. Set in a dystopian world, the story follows three men as they venture into the enigmatic “Zone,” a forbidden area rumored to grant one’s deepest desires. With its deliberate pacing and profound atmosphere, the film immerses viewers in a metaphysical journey, challenging perceptions of reality and the human spirit.

Oldboy (2003), directed by Park Chan-wook, is a gripping and intense mindfucking thriller that delves into themes of revenge, identity, and the darkness of the human psyche. The film follows a man mysteriously imprisoned for 15 years without explanation, who is suddenly released and given just days to uncover the truth behind his captivity. Stylish, shocking, and deeply emotional, it is a masterful exploration of vengeance and its consequences. Left me speechless.

The Killing of a Sacred Deer (2017), directed by Yorgos Lanthimos, is a chilling psychological thriller that weaves a tale of guilt, sacrifice, and moral reckoning. When a charismatic surgeon befriends a troubled teenager, their connection takes a dark and unsettling turn of direct threat to his family. With its unnerving atmosphere and stark, deliberate style, the film is a haunting exploration of human vulnerability and consequence. Must add a warning for a particular singing scene of Burn by Ellie Goulding.

Uptown Girls (2003) is a rollercoaster comedy-drama about a carefree young woman whose life takes an unexpected turn from the meeting of a precocious and damn witty 8-year-old girl. As their contrasting worlds collide, both learn valuable lessons about responsibility, friendship, and finding their true selves. With humor, heart, and unexpected moments of growth, this film offers a charming look at how sometimes the most unlikely relationships can change your life.

The Magician (1958) or ‘Ansiktet’ is a captivating psychological thriller directed by Ingmar Bergman. Set in the 19th century, it follows a traveling magician and his troupe as they perform elaborate illusions. When they arrive in a small town, they are met with suspicion, leading to a tense exploration of deception, identity, and the fine line between reality and fantasy. With its beautiful storytelling, striking visuals, and thought-provoking themes, the film delves into the human desire for control and the complexities of the mind.

Marcel the Shell with Shoes On (2021) is a whimsical mockumentary on the tiny adventures of Marcel, a one-inch-tall shell with shoes, a face, and other great qualities. Living with his grandmother in a cozy yet quirky existence, Marcel becomes the subject of a filmmaker’s documentary, leading to a journey of connection, humor, and discovery. With its gentle humor, poignant storytelling, and a charm to capture anyone, the film celebrates the power of community and finding joy in the small things.

Christopher and His Kind (2011) is a compelling biographical drama based on Christopher Isherwood’s memoir, chronicling his transformative years in 1930s Berlin. The film explores Christopher’s search for love, identity, and artistic inspiration amidst the rise of an awfully fascistic society. With its rich period detail and powerful performances, the story captures a personal journey of self-discovery while reflecting the broader tensions of the real events of Germany’s national socialism.

[ahb-writes]

Manga Review: 'The Valiant Must Fall' #1

The Valiant Must Fall #1 by Yu Aida

culture studies

fantasy

historical fantasy

historical drama

historical fiction

Meiji Japan

samurai

My Rating: 4 of 5 stars

Japan is changing. Regional alliances have been winnowed into nothing. Historical family dynasties have been felled by their own blades. Federated police units enforce strict new public codes of conduct. A new government for a new era.

Also, the samurai is functionally extinct.

THE VALIANT MUST FALL v1 pulls readers into the travails of a purpose-driven warrior out of time and place in the age of the Meiji Restoration. Oniuda Haruyasu is ill-fated; he is one of a handful of lingering survivors of failed rebellions and who brandishes a now-outmoded loyalty to a decapitated household. Haruyasu is a talented swordsman. In battle, his nickname was onikuro, or "black demon." Now, however, he has no master, no goal, and no purpose. He has no one to fight for and no one to defend.

Enter Kyuko Shino, a child of mythos. She is a woman in need of a soldier, an ally, and a conspirator. She is also, incredibly, reluctantly, immortal.

THE VALIANT MUST FALL v1 is part historical fiction and part urban fantasy. Readers encounter beautiful, period-accurate renderings of busy street markets, clothes, buildings, and more, alongside dark and clever variations on humankind's perilous quest for eternal youth and power. Tales of a new government seeking to validate its influence over a curious populace collide and merge with inscrutable legends of a people, retainers, descended from mountain-folk who cannot be killed. Japan is changing.

The samurai is functionally extinct. And a wandering, masterless swordsman falls into favor of an immortal woman with vengeance on the mind.

This manga is remarkable but patient. The plethora of period comics, and samurai content in particular, often shy away from the stoic and transcendent darkness of unyielding loyalty. Not so for this book. THE VALIANT MUST FALL v1 is an unsparingly serious and particular manga: swordsmen are not afraid to kill; corruption and abuse are rampant; madness is around every corner; and kindness and fealty are luxuries often afforded to those incapable of believing in themselves.

Haruyasu enters the employ of the young Miss Shino and is tasked to steal a darkness-infused blade from the Imperial Palace. The reason? Shino desires to end the lives of she and other immortals. Why? Because when blessed with ephemeral beauty or eternal youth or self-healing abilities, the garish faces of the government will surely find a way to mar such gifts. Haruyasu ponders this imbricated torment of torments, but agrees to help. And once more, he is a warrior with a purpose.

This is what a samurai manga looks like when its characters aren't effervescent goofballs, when the creative team actually studies the hand placement and footwork required to deftly wield a katana or wakizashi, and when the narrative is directly influenced by the politics of the time, rather than conveniently standing apart from or ignoring it. This is what a samurai manga looks like when taken seriously, and likewise blended with the steady, unblinking wonderment of a secret hidden in plain sight. Stories of immortal protectors of the palace? Held against their will? And of the humans who serve them as well? Also, perhaps, against their will?

THE VALIANT MUST FALL v1 is for readers who pay close attention to how the wrist bends when a sword is swung (e.g., Haruyasu is quick, but he also knows his limits). It's for readers who enjoy meeting characters who don't dither when circumstances demand quick action (e.g., Shino doesn't hesitate to command the death of a relative who interferes with her cause). And it's for readers who are tired of the impracticality of modern storytelling taking precedent (e.g., the comic focuses on older characters: Haruyasu is 33 years old; Hachiro, an old friend of Haruyasu's and a former shogunate retainer, is 31 years old; Shino, though she looks young, is between 29 and 44 years old). This is a samurai manga with the potential to pull readers into an insightful, new and dark direction.

❯ ❯ Manga Reviews || ahb writes on Good Reads

[doubtingthomasin]

🎀✨🎄 Dec. 4 - Mistletoe 🎄✨🎀

@hellcheerxmas

Eddie makes his way to the props room of the drama department, his mind racing even faster than usual. Not only is his brain full of D&D facts and storylines, but he's trying to think of more things he can do that'll make Chrissy smile.

Earlier in the day, he'd noticed the melancholy in her eyes again, even from across the classroom of the one class they shared. He wondered-still wonders-if Jason ever gives her a hard time, and just the possibility of it pisses him off. So he's walking a little faster than usual when he almost physically runs into Mike and Dustin, leaving the props room. They'd been laughing to themselves and still find it hard to stop even after almost colliding with their DM.

"Ah, Shrimp and Stretch," Eddie sighs, gesturing to the door. "To what, do I owe such an early arrival? I said no meeting until five and it is-" He checks his watch briefly. "-three-thirty."

"Nothing, we just forgot," Mike says, suppressing a grin.

Dustin nods too hard to be convincing. "Yep. Hey...are you still meeting with Chrissy first?"

He narrows his eyes at them. They know he does, every Friday. "Yeah."

"Cool, cool, uh...have fun." They part to pass on each side of him, and he turns to offer a confused glare to their backs. He can tell they're silently laughing from the way their shoulders shake.

"Fetuses."

He only has to wait a few minutes inside before he hears her running down the hall-followed by the sound of books skidding across the floor. He's up on his feet and out the door in a second, relieved to see that she didn't trip.

"Thank God," he says dramatically, already bending low to help her. "The only casualties were...Chemistry and Spanish."

She laughs lightly, evening out the edges of her papers on her knee before standing. "Thank you. I am so clumsy sometimes."

They walk as he nods. "They say that's one of the most desired traits in a cheerleader." He makes her giggle again and hopes he always can. "Besides, who would I be, if not your chivalrous...what?"

She's looking up, and that's when he notices they're in the doorway, standing under a sprig of mistletoe that definitely wasn't there a few periods ago.

His confusion turns to silent ire as he stares, remembering his sheep's earlier departure. "Those dastardly little bastards." He looks down to see her wide, piercing blue eyes boring into him, and his sudden nerves make it difficult to read her expression. "Th-This wasn't me, I swear-"

But she's already up on her tip toes and he freezes, her warm hand wrapping around the back of his neck. His eyes close when her lips brush his cheek, planting a firm kiss there.

His eyes stay closed and she giggles. "Eddie?"

He opens them, a bit fluttery, his skin tingling where she'd kissed. "Yeah?"

She smiles, her eyes alight with a hint of mischief. "Ready to start studying?"

[jiannguo]

Beijing Radio And Television News talks about Xiao Zhan ansld Legend of Condor

When @电影空离英雄传奇之大者 announced, it really wasn’t wrinkling a pool of spring water, it was smashing, it was waves curbing a flying boat. The boats from all sides stopped to "eat melons". 

On May 15th, the official issue of this magazine published "When "Xu Guaiguai" formed a group "Xiao Shuaishuai".

"Xu" Tsui Hark, born in 1950 and now 73 years old.

Who is "Shuaishai Xiao"? Xiao Zhan, who was born in 1991 and is considered by many to be "grown on his own aesthetics" @X九少年团肖战DAYTOY

●"Handpicked"? After the official announcement of the film, there is still such a saying: "Tsui Hark hand-picked Xiao Zhan".

"Hand-picked" clearly revealed Tsui Hark's status in the area. Works in the film industry are the most numerous, and Tsui Hark's works are in a basket. Being 73 years old is not a big deal. The accumulated brand effect of good works is estimated to be more than 90 years old.

Encyclopedia has listed a few of Tsui Hark's masterpieces, but in your mind, which of Tsui Hark's masterpieces is it?

Randomly interviewed and found an interesting question: In the era when the funds were not so sufficient and the special effects were rough, compared to the period when the creation was full of vitality and enthusiasm, the works were repeatedly mentioned by fans... At present, Tsui Hark's status in the world is naturally, there is no doubt, but is there any reverse effect of excessive capital and creative inertia? 

And Xiao Zhan has "terrific" traffic, not many film works, TV dramas and drama performances are remarkable, coupled with the blessings of fashion and business fields...

● "Shooting the Condors", the production background of the hard-won film, has been dubbed the scale of the "national team" by netizens...

Does Xiao Zhan look like Guo Jing? Guo Jing who is so graceful? No wonder there are comments: "Tsui Hark invited Xiao Zhan to play Guo Jing, how would Jin Yong feel when he found out?" In fact, when Mr. Jin Yong was alive, there were often things where his works were re-shooted so that he didn't like them, and he let go of a lot of cruel words. , Round after round of copyright did not delay the hot sale. Has Jin Yong ever said harsh words to Tsui Hark? Of course there is, and it's not because of Dongfang Invincible...

Finally, the opportunity came again... Anyway, can playing special effects help, don't want to see the reaction of "Xu Guaiguai" and "Xiao Shuaishuai"? Let's see what Guo Jing will become!

● "Strange" and "handsome", the memory has to collide with the "weirdness" of "Xu Guaiguai", which is really enough for the audience to guess.

The story is not suitable for changing the movie? We can't guess how the story of "Old Monster Xu" is constructed! Can you think of "Green Snake" being shot like that? Can you imagine what "Invincible in the East" looks like? Can you think that "Di Renjie" does not burn brains and burn special effects?

Besides, the "handsomeness" of "Xiao Shuaishuai" is enough to make the audience, especially the fans, excited.

There was an exclusive interview with Xiao Zhan, when he was answering interview questions while putting on makeup. Seeing the makeup artist tinkering with his face and head, the difference between before and after tinkering is just a stage effect that is more suitable for a certain period of time.

As for the "Physique" of "Xiao Shuaishuai", everyone has seen the "Soldier King" in "Ace Force". I have interviewed several actors who partnered with Xiao Zhan in "Ace Force", and they are all praised and distressed...

Film is the art of directors. The director's precise guidance, training, and enlightenment can often receive the touch of gold and magic. effect. "Xu Guaiguai" and "Xiao Shuaishuai" form a group, which is the memory of tricks, long-term achievements, linkage... The

classic "Huang Rong", besides Weng Meiling, Zhou Xun, who appreciates Xiao Zhan, leads the official announcement of the film After starring Xiao Zhan is Zhuang Dafei. The little girl was born in 2001 and graduated from the Performance Department of Beijing Film Academy. With Weng Meiling and Zhou Xun's Huang Rongzhuyu in front, I have to say that this girl is really brave. 

@庄达菲 If you have to keep working hard, why do you say "Zhou Xun"? 

It's not just because she played "Huang Rong", but I asked Xiao Zhan during the interview, who is the actress he admires the most? He replied "Zhou Xun"@i Zhou Xun . The original words at the time were like this:

"I really like Zhou Xun. Her views and experiences fascinate me. Many of her performances make me want to rush into the screen to rescue her. Zhou Xun's performance is very dynamic, as if you are accompanying her to experience the performance. When she talks, my attention will be completely on her, and she has a very great personal charm." Tsk tsk, these words are sincere enough right? 

●It is a good thing to form more groups across the border, and it is an era when "personality" wins... It is a good thing for "Xu Guaiguai" to form a group with "Xiao Shuaishuai". Because film and television production has never been done by one person, especially under the current communication characteristics. Crossing generations and blending traits, everyone concentrates on their superior forces, and has a look at it with sincerity.

[maximumwobblerbanditdonut]

This kiss between Alfie Enoch and Eleanor Tomlinson is more convincing than the one between Eleanor and SH copied from “The Notebook” film

The Couple Next Door wastes no time in telling us that its psychodrama is heading nowhere good.

The new six-part Channel 4 thriller opens with a dramatic flashforward of Gone Girl-esque menace to a woodland cabin in the Yorkshire Dales. Evie (Poldark's Eleanor Tomlinson) emerges clearly unprepared for the elements around her, barefoot, in a negligée and on the run.

In hot pursuit is her other half Pete (Alfred Enoch) and her neighbours-with-benefits Danny (Outlander star Sam Heughan) and his wife Becka (Jessica De Gouw). Evie's crying, Pete has a gun, Danny's wearing an extremely tight jeans and jacket combo. It's all very dramatic, if a tad soapy.

Then we jump back to when this central quartet first met, as a pregnant Evie and her hubby move onto the Leeds cul-de-sac they will shortly meet that titular couple on. The drama bats off the inevitable Desperate Housewives comparisons in the first few lines of dialogue: "I'm sold. Bit Desperate Housewives, maybe, but it's nice," says Pete.

Like that show, it plays on the curtain-twitching and behind-closed-doors intrigue of suburbia, albeit sidestepping the humdrum nosiness and mind-numbing boredom that setting has been captured with on screen before.

Danny, or Tarzan with a Leeds accent and a vast array of muscle tees, welcomes the newbies to the 'burbs by taking their fridge into the house, which he picks up with the ease most people use to retrieve a milk carton from within the fridge.

His wife and yoga nut Becka instantly takes to the couple and when Evie and Pete lose their baby, they turn to their non-monogamous neighbours for support and a friendship between the core four soon blooms.

Danny is a traffic copper taking bribes on the side. Pete is a snarky journalist whose work speaking truth to power will inevitably collide with Danny's dodgy dealings at some point. Evie is a kindergarten teacher desperate to have children of her own. Becka mostly brings the good vibes.

Oh, and Hugh Dennis is also here, down the road from that lot, in the role of a lifetime as a creepy peeping Tom. His main characteristic is a hyper-fixation on Becka, for which he has a telescope station and an ominous Becka-themed folder of JPEGs on his computer, which he has conspicuously named 'untitled'.

Outlander's Heughan and Poldark's Tomlinson are both breaking their 18th century period drama moulds in this psychological couple-swap thriller. However, their chemistry on screen doesn't quite simmer in the way you hope it would from something billed as a drama in which its characters are "chasing deepest desires" and reckoning with the fallout.

It's just a lot of Heughan and Tomlinson staring at each other, often in a way that trends towards cringe as opposed to sexy. When the pair go for a joyride around the neighbourhood on Danny's motorcycle, the thing feels more like an F1 hot lap than seduction by scooter.

The pair told the Radio Times they never did a chemistry test before being cast and questioned what they even really achieve, but maybe the answer would have been better chemistry?

Meanwhile, De Gouw exudes the sexuality required as Becka, so much so you're occasionally left wondering why Danny gives a fig about Evie to begin with. Enoch is solid as the one who's not really down with all of this swinging stuff, questioning whether he's actually as authentic to his progressive persona as he assumed he was.

Both the couples sort of have better chemistry with their own partners in the drama – we get a fairly steamy no-nudity sex scene between Pete and Evie in the first episode, begging the question of whether there's any point in the partner swap that comes later.

A surprising highlight is Dennis with his dark, dead-eyed stare, offering a more family-friendly incarnation of You's "I'll love you to death" Joe Goldberg.

The chief notable absence when comparing this to those other shows is the gaping chasm where some light relief might have gone. Desperate Housewives balanced adultery and arson with both unintentional and intentional gags aplenty, while You has had the biting commentary of Joe's voiceover, particularly in its standout third season.p

But what it does have bubbling underneath the psychodrama is something fairly interesting to say about the way society views non-monogamous relationships, and the unconscious rules we largely abide by in coupledom, which here sex and desire throw into question.

Outlander fans coming over to The Couple Next Door in the hopes of more hot and heavy Heughan won't be disappointed, although this contains less of the romance and never quite reaches the sparky heights of Jamie and Claire.

Ultimately, Pete sort of said it best: bit Desperate Housewives – although perhaps not enough in the ways we would want – but it's nice enough.

She is not wrong! 🤫

She’s not impressed by SH, with zero romantic/sexual chemistry. Could be He does have platonic chemistry with other co-actors. But it means He’s very inconsistent in his approach. Sometimes it goes beyond his acting ability, and it's just the way he works 🤷‍♀️

[chthonicathenean]

How does “wrong genre savvy” fit in here and how many characters each thinking they’re in a different genre are necessary to maximize this potential? I’m sure everyone is sick of “is this ofmd, no? well it is now” nonsense but I’m doing it anyway.

Stede thinks he’s in a romantic dramatization of a pirate adventure. Lucius thinks he’s in a queer workplace comedy. Izzy thinks he’s in a gritty period drama. Jim thinks they’re in a gritty revenge drama.

It starts as a workplace comedy set on a pirate ship with slapstick elements (a la the Muppets) that evolves into a queer romance, leaving off as half queer romance adventure half gritty period revenge drama and I am so excited to see what happens when those two halves collide!

My favourite type of movie is “period piece romance but fantasy-horror hijinks happen and now everyone has to adapt to the new genre or die,” ala Curse of the Black Pearl, Anastasia, The Mummy (1999)

[sciencestyled]

When CRISPR Meets Michelangelo: A Daring Tale of Techno-Bio-Artistic Shenanigans

So you think art is all about splashing paint and sculpting marble? Oh, child, buckle up, because we’re diving into a form of art so outlandishly futuristic that it makes Star Trek look like a quaint period drama. Allow me to unveil biotech art, where technology and biology collide like an Avengers endgame—but with petri dishes and gene splicing instead of capes and infinity stones. This isn’t your typical brush-and-easel affair. No, biotech art is a genre of its own, a Frankenstein's monster of science and expression that breathes, glows, mutates, and occasionally leaves the public either gasping in wonder or ready to call the ethics hotline.

Now, for all you innocent undergrads who still think the cutting edge of art involves arranging soup cans or photographing a nice sunset—prepare for enlightenment. Biotech art is not just an art form. It's a movement, a revolution, a glorious, genetically modified freak show. And if you’re already looking lost, hang tight, because you’re about to enter a world where CRISPR and creativity lock arms like they’re the new Batman and Robin.

Let’s start at the very beginning—or as close as we can get to a “beginning” in an art form that probably has scientists rolling their eyes in mild terror. Back in the day, artists toyed with biological materials to make pigments. They'd grind beetles, harvest plants, even boil bones to produce dyes. Ah, yes, the good old days, where playing with biology meant your palette had the faint whiff of a petting zoo. But then, things got weird. Science picked up the pace, technology took over, and suddenly, the dream of creating life with a paintbrush didn’t seem so outrageous. We went from “Hey, let’s use some crushed bugs for red” to “Hey, let’s insert this squid gene and see if my sculpture glows in the dark.”

And lo, biotech art was born.

Fast forward to now, where we have daring visionaries who treat petri dishes like their own personal art studios. Meet Eduardo Kac, a man who might well be the Picasso of biotech. Only instead of Cubism, Kac is renowned for…well, creating a fluorescent bunny. Yes, you read that right. The guy used genetic engineering to make a glow-in-the-dark rabbit, because apparently regular rabbits were too mainstream. This little critter, aptly named Alba, lit up a storm of both literal and figurative kinds, forcing the world to ask, “Is this the future of art?” Spoiler alert: yes, it is, and it’s about as surreal as an episode of Black Mirror meets Animal Planet.

Another titan in this field, Heather Dewey-Hagborg, dabbled in creating sculptures using DNA samples. Picture this: she’d collect discarded DNA, as casually as you or I might pick up a fallen hairpin, and use it to reconstruct the face of whoever left it behind. Her work, titled Stranger Visions, shows us the faces of unsuspecting strangers, built from the traces they unknowingly left. Dewey-Hagborg's creations are like a gritty CSI reboot nobody asked for but everyone’s curious about. It’s one part art, one part ethically ambiguous science experiment—and entirely fascinating.

Now, it’s impossible to talk about biotech art without mentioning CRISPR, the molecular editing tool that practically anyone with a lab coat can use to rewrite DNA like they’re editing a Wikipedia page. Artists today are wielding CRISPR with the enthusiasm of a kid who’s just discovered the “undo” button, only instead of deleting typos, they’re crafting creatures that would give Darwin a heart attack. And why stop there? Artists are experimenting with bioluminescent bacteria as a medium. Imagine a painting that illuminates itself, like a painting that says, “Hey, I’m here,” in the dark. Technology and art have collided with biology to make these bold statements, challenging every preconception of what it means to “create.”

Ah, but before you accuse me of getting all sentimental, let’s address the ethical elephant in the room. Because while some folks are thrilled by the sight of a genetically engineered masterpiece, others are—how shall I put this delicately?—furious. The idea of altering life itself for the sake of art rubs a few people the wrong way. I mean, what’s wrong with playing God as long as you’re in it for the aesthetics, right? Wrong, apparently. There are critics out there, stern, lab-coated souls who argue that art should not meddle with the sacred “natural order” of biology. These purists believe there’s a line you shouldn’t cross—a line somewhere between painting a landscape and breeding fluorescent cats, though no one’s entirely sure where.

Then there’s the public reaction. Let’s just say it’s a mixed bag, like reactions to Kanye’s Twitter feed or the latest attempt at a superhero reboot. Some people see biotech art as an exhilarating push into the unknown, while others are convinced we’re just one botched CRISPR experiment away from the zombie apocalypse. You might say biotech art is the avocado toast of the art world: half the population is mesmerized, and the other half is convinced it’s the downfall of civilization.

So where is this mutant blend of technology, art, and biology headed? Well, if I had to guess, I’d say the future looks delightfully bizarre. I envision a world where biotech art will have us marveling at self-sustaining gardens growing on skyscrapers, sculptures made of live tissues, and interactive bio-installations that can respond to our touch like some kind of organic Snapchat filter. Imagine attending an art exhibit where each piece of artwork can “feel” your presence, maybe even respond. The boundaries between life and art are blurring like never before, and we’re all spectators at the strangest show on Earth.

At the end of the day, what biotech art does, above all, is challenge our preconceived ideas of what art is and should be. Art, we once thought, was a static thing—a painting, a sculpture, a song frozen in time. But biotech art laughs in the face of stasis. This art is alive, mutable, and as unpredictable as the genetics it manipulates. It mocks traditional art by growing, breathing, and yes, occasionally glowing. It’s not just a painting on a wall; it’s a living argument that maybe art doesn’t just capture life. Maybe, in some mad-scientist, petri-dish-on-steroids way, art is life.

And thus, I leave you, dear students, with this revelation: we are living in an era where art and science are engaged in an elaborate tango—oh, wait, I wasn’t supposed to say “tango,” let’s call it a cha-cha of the ages. Biology, once thought to be the domain of scientists alone, has become the paintbrush of a new generation of artists, mad geniuses who look at a cell nucleus and see a canvas, who wield CRISPR like a hammer and chisel, carving out new forms of beauty that breathe, mutate, and maybe even resist the critics. So go forth, revel in this strange new world where art is alive, and remember, when they finally clone the first Van Gogh cow or grow a self-portrait out of mushrooms, you’ll know who told you first.

And on that day, my friends, you’ll understand that art isn’t just something you look at anymore—it’s something that might just stare right back at you.

[benefits1986]

Wonky Wordy Worldly Wolverine

And so, the man and the beast collide.

Training the bots is like training a puppy with an autoimmune disease. While it may look inviting and truly promising, it comes with so much hassle. The goal is to allow you to hustle more, but, again, the machine is only as good as the man or woman who lights it up. Of course, the hustle comes with hassle as the training season begins. While you're training the bots, you may feel as though you're kidding yourself that it won't take over your algo and eventually, your grind. Weird and wonderful, right? Maddening and pretty marvelous, too.

But, here's the thing. Training the bots to align with whatever your grind and goal is the only way to power through. Think of the days when the seesaw, the cameras, the bikes were first launched in the market. After all, these machines are meant to make the humans' tasks easier, faster, if not better.

I call this era my HER minus the drama era. Still can't believe that it's here and now, but we're here and now. Some crazy stories that make sense are:

A founder using his bot to reply to "usual" emails which saves him 1.5 hours or so, daily.

Faceless content creators that talk about tips on XYZ topics generating X amount of revenue on ads. Not the dubious ones, please.

AI influencers who thirst trap bored people. Not a fan of fucked up adult content at all, but, what if it's going to save so many people who face the shitty people who "love" taking advantage of them, right? What if because of these AI adult content influencers, these fucked up people would lessen their tendencies to try forging a connection with real people and just get lost and die in their "basic fucked up" instincts and fetishes? Mamatay silang mag-isa dahil deserve nila 'yan. Periodddt.

Sole proprietors raking above average net income in using AI-powered repurposed content of their lived experience as they build their brand.

Data management people simply load the audio and voila! Data transcription is done in a snap. (I super can relate to this because I used to transcribe pharmaceutical research interviews ages ago. Back then, I thought that there should be a "tool" that will make this menial task automated.)

And so on, and so forth.

However, as the training unfolds, Hahahahahaha. The wonky bot baby is truly wonky. I know we're still in its infancy stage, and it's a shitshow that I love and hate. Hihihihi. Why so? It feels like wrestling with the beast through words laced with poetry, passion, purpose and poison. WOOHOO. I don't know if it's just me. I'm not even worried that this space and my other spaces will take over me some day. I think that I've already resolved that issue a long time ago. Why so? The name of the game in this era is authenticity, after all. Period. You're only as good as the stories you live for. It may take so much effort because it's easier to stay in your chosen cave and doom scroll and binge-watch. However, the "wordsmith Wolverine" of this era will power through.

It ain't easy. It ain't gonna be pretty. It's surely a blood bath, however, it will come through. It is here and now. And, again, I'm hoping that I'd have a bot version of my thoughtless shitshow so that I can pass it on to those who matter most.

My soul sis and I are talking about this as we're on our usual "unpaid" therapy sessions involving each other's updates about whatever and whenever. She told me that I should try my best to reach 40 because she can't imagine not hearing my signature TACCAAAA among other things I spit out. I told her that in the name of Second Life 4.0, I'm giving her the permission to load all these thought farts and shit on a trusty bot. And boogsh, a bot version of me, complete with the greeting: TACCAA, ANO NA NAMAN? ANG AGA. Hahahahaha.

Nakakatamad talaga kasing magka-pake lalo 'pag mga bagay na walang sense pero akala ng mundo meron, meron, meron. Pero, ganun talaga. It is what it is.

One of our bonding to the grind sessions involved prompting the bot we love most for now with something I can say is her crazy SOS. Hahahaha. Tawang-tawa ako kasi super happy niya. Sabi ko, mala-HER lang 'yan. Panoorin mo ulit. It's just like logic/philo (ayusin ang pagpili ng school of thought because alam mo naman), creative writing, non-creative writing, and the art of persuasion + the art of war + kung ano mang gusto mong matawid. Also, told her to fucking save the SOS prompts para isang click lang, tapos kang ungas ka. Hahahahahahaha. Then, of course, paraphrase mo mainam para ikaw na ikaw pero ayun na nga. Buttered up with no BS by the BEH-BOTS.

Don't get me wrong. This is all about the reality that once someone is marked alive (even a zygote), that being is not never too old to die. It's but a circle of life. OPAK. Umaariba na naman ang philo shit ng existentialist kuno pero SI lang naman gusto lagi. Hahahaha. Sorry, not sorry. Ganun talaga e.

But, again, as I come in peace, let's choose hope. BOOGSH. Kadire. Pero, it is what it is. And perhaps, this probinsiyana life goal is a game changer na sobrang may paganaps na tayo sa mga susunod na araw at buwan. LOL. Jusq. Sana kanyanin ko at ng mga inner children ko. Let's see.

'Yun pala, kaya todo pakawala ng kashitan sa space na 'to is part of my right to die trip na noh? Buti na lang mahal sa mga bansang puwede 'tong ganito. LOL. Need pang mag-grind. CHZ. Kidding aside, I'm trying my best to hang onto my purple people. SHEMAY. It's super tough to open up, honestly. JUSQ. Cringe me, mhieeee. However, let's try to reach 40. SHET. Try lang a. Sana good try pero again, 'wag tayo lahat papakasiguro because, death is but one breath away, always. Ganun talaga.

Kakanood talaga 'to ng Black Mirror na gusto ko pa ring rewatch kaso baka naman mawala na naman 'yung "hopeful" mode ko na tine-train ko talaga ng bongga kahit sobrang hassle. Mas hassle pa sa BEH-BOTS trainings, actually. GAH.

[blossoms-and-petrichor]

this is a completely different type of astronomical object, but on the topic of binary systems, i think it would please you all to know that when galaxies collide and after a very very long time the dynamic friction makes the supermassive black holes in the center of the galaxies begin to draw closer and closer together, according to the math we know, most of the time when the black holes are about 3.6 light years away it becomes rather difficult for them to inspiral and collide. This is called the final parsec problem, and it basically means there might be a bunch of galaxies with two black holes revolving around each other but unable to collide.

unless there's a chance encounter with a star in their path or something. a chance event to precipitate their inspiral past a parsec (3.6 ly).

Many scientists think this doesn't make sense, and are coming up with theories as to what missing variables might allow the black holes inspiral to be more statistically likely. But for the purposes of this post, all of this is to say that supermassive black holes are yuri. in a period drama way.

wait till the tumblr girlies find out that in binary star systems sometimes one star will basically eat the other and kill them both - resulting in the most powerful thing a star could ever do in its life.