#usually getting the script in advanced is being lucky

[taechaos]

Silent Treatment

from Textbook Love drabble series

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you.

warnings: slight angst, drugs, arguing, dubcon, cunnilingus, mild degredation

word count: 4.2k

tags: @mwitsmejk @1-in-abillion @kooookie

a/n: the request (contains some spoilers). i'm gonna take a very short break from this couple to write other requests!! hope u enjoy 💗

The shift in the Spring weather is unpredictable. One moment it’s chilly, and the other sunny. Humans can only adapt so much, and it causes an outbreak of common colds. Most people recover easily, handy medicine soothing their sore throats, syrups suppressing coughs, and nose sprays ridding the blockage. You, on the other hand, are not that lucky. With a weak immune system, you’re very careful to not get sick, but there must have been a slip-up because you’ve somehow lost your voice after catching a cold.

You sniffle and cough, but you can’t speak. It’s advised to not exert your vocal cords in cases like these, and that is just so unfortunate for you. The last thing you’d ever want to do is spread your sickness to Jungkook, and that meant not getting too close to him; it meant no kissing. 

A very large white placard is spread out in front of you on the wooden table, and you’re plastering printed images of a specific global issue on it. You’re sitting on a bench with two of your friends as they chatter mindlessly while you work. Jungkook has a project about climate change due in a few days, and it’s supposed to be very important for his final grade. You’ve already written him a script for his presentation along with a stick prop to point at specific pictures. It’s fun, glittery and he’s going to love it. 

“Hey,” Minnie, your friend, calls for you, “we’re going to get some coffee from Starbucks. Want us to get you green tea?”

Soyeon laughs when your eyes light up; it’s your favorite beverage, and it’s supposed to help with your sore throat. They leave with a smile after you give them a hyper nod and you’re alone as you adjust your woolen scarf around your neck. You need to heal as fast as you can so you’re no longer missing your beloved’s affection.

Jungkook has been feeling more inclined to approach you without reason lately, but that doesn’t mean it’s a common occurrence. Getting teased by his friend, specifically Taehyung, about having a sissy crush on a girl like yourself angered him to no end. A hit always got him to shut up, but not for long. He’s walking your way today because there’s no one around to judge him for talking to you. 

You’re tearing a double-sided tape when he sits on your table, carefully avoiding your materials. Your breath hitches as his eyes gloss over your work in progress. “Working hard, I see,” he comments with disinterest. He doesn’t say anything about your efforts, but he’s impressed. The corner of his lip tugs upwards before he leans in for a kiss. You have enough self-control and concern for his well-being over your desires to lean back before your lips make contact. His face is close to yours as he pauses and slightly frowns before trying again. He receives the same results and finally pulls back. 

“You did well,” he frowns at you and speaks as if you’re a child, “I’m praising you.” Your eyes are darting back and forth awkwardly and you don’t know what to do other than sit in silence. You put your hands on his knees as a resort and his frown deepens as he watches you. “I can take a hint, you know. You don’t have to fucking ignore me.” He roughly shoves your hands and stands up before storming off with a scoff. You’re torn between following him and being responsible over your belongings. You can’t let his grades go to waste because of a small misunderstanding, so you decide to text him instead. There’s always a possibility someone might steal his project. Or maybe after he’s cooled off? You delay the message, but somewhere in your heart, you’re satisfied by his reaction because it’s clear that he wanted to kiss you.

Heavy footsteps clomp against the sidewalk before Jungkook slumps on the seat next to Taehyung. It’s an isolated area for smoking students at the back of the campus, and his friend group is no exception to this role. They’re taking drags of cigarettes individually as Jungkook glares at his boots. They’re chunky and a bold black, and his dark outfit paints him as the big bad wolf. It fits, because he’s ready to attack when he’s filled with so much resentment. Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you. It doesn’t make sense, but you also grimaced at him, but then why were you doing his homework? He’s feeling frustrated, and upset all the same.

“Someone’s troubled,” Seokjin points out with a mouthful of smoke. “Kookie?”

Said boy only grunts in response.

“Did the lousy girl finally see you for who you really are and leave you?” Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to mock him with a pout. “Tragic.”

“Shut the fuck up, Tae,” Jungkook spits and sends him a death glare, fire flaming in his fierce eyes. “Go actually talk to a girl or something, and leave me alone. I can’t take your shit right now.”

The low blow doesn’t affect Taehyung in the slightest as he holds up his hands in defence with comically wide eyes. “Relax, tiger.”

“Moving on from Tae’s inability to talk to girls in broad daylight, what’s up with you Kook?” Namjoon butts in, earning a fake cough from the receiving end of the insult.

He pauses for a moment before babbling, “I hate those bitches. My mother for one, couldn’t stand wearing clothes whenever she saw a dude. Moving on from guy to guy, unless they’re a fucking asshole. What do they want? Why are they never fucking satisfied?!”

A moment of silence passes among the huddled friends before Yoongi breaks it with a joke, “Who’s the lucky girl?” It doesn’t land as Jungkook deeply sighs in response. “Did she cheat on you?” he tries again.

“No,” he murmurs.

“Then…?”

“She… I don’t fucking know, she gave me the silent treatment. She leaned away from me too,” he shakes his head with a quiet groan, “it just doesn’t add up. I got mad and left.”

“No way that could’ve ended up badly,” Taehyung chuckles but purses his lips when he’s sent another dirty look.  “How long was the interaction anyway?” 

“Like 30 seconds.”

“Are you coming out tonight?” Yoongi asks and puts out the burning tip of his stick. “Could help you feel better.”

“And we’ve got molly,” Namjoon adds.

“Yeah, fine, whatever.”

Alcohol’s effect on a person differs in moods, and Jungkook is usually a horny drunk. Being a sad drunk is a first for him tonight, but he’s just so confused. It made his heart drop when you outwardly refused his advances and anxiety blossomed in his chest, which he has no idea how to deal with. It kicked in fight or flight instincts, and he just… hated the idea of you not loving him, even if it’s momentary. He can’t bear staying in a situation that makes him feel so insecure, and that feeling is supposed to be left in his childhood. You just about brought out the worst in him without doing anything. 

You didn’t do anything.

It’s 10PM and he’s waiting on your usual good night text that he never responds to. It’s so pathetic, and he hates himself for being so used to your affection that it worries him when he’s deprived of it. He’s never doubted your love for him, but his insecurities are churning his gut. It’s an overflow of all of his pent-up emotions, and he can’t handle it.

“Here,” Taehyung pops in out of nowhere, clutching a pill in his hand. There’s a bottle of water in the other as he holds them out for Jungkook to take. “Stop moping and get laid.”

“I’d say the same to you, but you’d probably start crying during sex,” he mumbles and uncaps the bottle before throwing in the pill and washing it down with the water. “Thanks.”

“See that girl over there?” he ignores him and steps behind his miserable friend to point at the owner of the sultry gaze directed at Jungkook from the bar. “She wants to fuck you. Or maybe me, but I’m passing her onto you.”

“How kind of you,” he sarcastically replies.

“Uh-uh, so you’re gonna be in ecstasy in about 10 minutes. Don’t fuck this up.” He slaps his shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen. It’s a lonesome party because not a lot of people are allowed in when drugs are involved. Causing a ruckus, receiving a noise complaint and then getting arrested is out of the question. 

He isn’t interested in sex with a stranger - not today at least -, but he hopes for it to change as he waits to approach her. Maybe drugs will rile him up enough to have fun with someone else and rid his mind of you. It’s an annoying itch on his brain, so he rests his head against the couch to comfort himself with the soft fabric. He’s sleepy from the beer he drank earlier, and he doesn’t know how time goes by so fast when he closes his eyes.

A few minutes must have passed, because he’s starting to feel dizzy in his seat. A smile carves on his face as his mind grows slightly fogged, and he opens his eyes to find the girl quietly chatting with a friend. When she glances at him, he beckons her to come over. She mouths a “be right back” to her friend before strutting in his direction.

“Hey,” she smiles down at him before sitting on the couch. She’s aristocratic, chic and pretty. “Sorry if I weirded you out earlier.” Her voice is sweet like honey, and her words flow out of her tongue so naturally. A dream girl, really, and Jungkook is starting to get horny.

“I don’t mind,” he reassures with a subtle seductive tone, “what’s a girl like you doing with this crowd? You look too innocent.” He wraps a finger around a strand of her hair and twirls it. It feels strange.

“My friend sent me here, told me to watch over someone,” she lowly speaks. “I’m Soyeon.”

“Nice to meet you, Soyeon,” he breathes before crashing her lips with his. His hand reaches down to grip her thigh, tongue poking out to swipe the sticky gloss. It’s flavored, and it tastes of strawberry. When she kisses him back so slowly, innocently, it turns him on so much. His pants feel tight around his crotch as he runs another hand through her soft hair. Compared to him, she’s passionate whereas he’s sloppy. He’s starting to get dizzier, and it feels so fucking good, but he hates it.

There is not a single reason for him to not enjoy this, not when his mood is lifting so high. The hand on her thigh lands on her cleavage instead and she’s so submissive and shy, but something’s off. He groans into her mouth before biting her lip, ripping a whine out of her. Why does she sound so sexy and annoying?  

He pulls away from her before sighing in irritation. “Fuck, I can’t do this.” 

“Did I do something wrong?” she asks worriedly.

“No, just, fuck.” He starts laughing before rubbing his palms on his eyes, “I really want to fuck, but I just can’t.”

“We can just chat,” she softly suggests. “What’s your name?”

“Jungkook.”

He removes his hands from his face when she goes silent. Her eyes are wide and she’s gaping at him… guiltily? “Crap,” she hisses quietly, “I was supposed to make sure you were okay. My roommate is like, super in love with you and asked me to come here.”

He says your name in a question, wondering if it’s you. When she nods, he asks for your dorm instantly.

“She’s in room 124… Why?”

When he stands up, there’s a sway in his posture but he recovers quickly. There’s an involuntary grin on his face as he thanks her ignorantly. He’s out of the villa in a rush, and he has the overwhelming urge to just run. The campus is a bit far away from the house, but he doesn’t care as his footfalls echo in the dark streets. He has so much energy to waste, and with his current stamina, he’s confident he’ll find you before dawn. It’s stupid but it’s fun, and he doesn’t care for catching his breath as the corner stores pass by him in a blur. 

Throughout the two hours of his reckless jog, where he mixed up directions multiple times, his mind is starting to clear up little by little. He’s happy because of what Soyeon told him, and he feels relieved upon seeing the familiar college building. He’s not allowed in dorms at this time, but he’s done this too many times to get caught. Except he was drunk in those instances, and being on MDMA was different. Sneaking past security was tough because he couldn’t bring himself to tiptoe without making so much noise. When they glanced at him, he thought it to be the only choice to just run past them. He’s in the elevator by the time they catch on, and the numbers look wonky in his eyes but he presses the button for the right floor. 

He’s shifting his weight repeatedly in an attempt to contain his excitement; he wants to see you so bad. The moment he hears the ding of the elevator, he’s running past the halls and stops upon seeing 124. He has to squint, but he knows this is your dorm. 

You wake up with a silent gasp when there’s a pound on the door. You clutch your sheets in fear until someone starts to sing your name. “Jungkook?” you mouth to yourself. You stand up and look through the peephole and there’s a man on the other side who’s bouncing on his feet impatiently.

“Open up,” he sings loudly. You’re worried when you swing the door open and yank him inside so he doesn’t wake up any other students. You try to talk but only a wheeze comes out, so you switch on the light to see him instead. The brightness hurts your eyes as you close them for a few seconds. “Well, well, well, look who we have here…”

He starts to circle around you slowly and stumbles behind you. “Sending people to spy on me after rejecting me like that.” His words are slightly slurred and you turn around to face him with a pout. You point at your throat to give him a hint, but his eyes don’t waver from your pleading ones. “What are your intentions, huh?” he weakly pushes you, “Sending me mixed signals. Who- who do you think you are?”

You hold his hands and place them on your neck, trying to communicate with him by mouthing, “I’m sick,” but he only chuckles. He seems sickeningly joyous, but he’s not over his anger. “Still not going to talk to me? What did I even do?”

You deeply inhale from your nose because he’s not paying attention to you. You’re frustrated with yourself until he yells, “WHY WON’T YOU TALK TO ME?” The surge of serotonin, his state of euphoria is crashing down on him the more you ignore him. He had believed the drug would only make him happy, but it intensified his sadness and anxiety just as much when he saw you. It helped him forget you in a social circle, but you confused him so much after he was reassured for so long - coupled with your silence, he’s raging.

“Why are you ignoring me?! What did I do that was so bad that you can’t bear talking to me anymore? You told me you loved me, please,” he chokes and tries to swallow the lump in his throat. “I-I’ll make it up to you, I’m so sad right now. Just say something…”

You’re watching him in shock and a hint of fear from his fluctuating mood. You want to cry at how pitiful he looks, but instead you aim to grab a piece of paper from your bedside table. He misreads your actions and pushes you against the wall. “Stop this. Stop!” He has your arms pinned and he’s trying so hard to intimidate you so you give in. A dry sob leaves you because he's going mad, but then he has a sudden epiphany. “Maybe you’ll love me again if I fuck you hard enough and engrave it in your brain that you’re mine. Yes, yes!”

He starts unbuckling his belt and you immediately try to stop him; he’ll get sick! He shoves you again and pulls down his jeans before mashing his mouth against yours. All of your efforts have gone to waste when his tongue forces its way down your throat. There’s no point to denying him now, so you hesitantly kiss him back. You’re so guilty, and he’s so careless as he roughly pushes his hand down your white cotton shorts. You’re wearing a navy blue sweater to match so you don’t get cold in the night, but the shorts are meant to prevent a fever. What’s the point now, then? He hasn’t even read your texts that you only remembered to send before sleeping. He missed a whole paragraph of your explanation and confronted you so angrily.

“I’m going to fuck you all night,” he growls against your lips, “then you’ll remember how much you love me.” Your moans are quiet and hitched as he presses down on your clit through your panties. His other hand is on his cock as he strokes it eagerly, ready to get inside you. “I missed you so fucking much in one day,” he whispers in a croak. Hearing it makes you feel even warmer inside as you nudge his hand to urge him to enter you. “You missed me too, huh?” he takes notice of your neediness. “Shouldn’t have fucking brought it upon yourself then.”

He removes his hand from your shorts and taps your thighs before demanding, “Jump.” You bite your lip in consideration until he taps them harder and you quickly wrap your legs around his waist. Your shorts are relatively short, resembling loose boxers, so when your back is pressed against the wall he only pushes them and your underwear to the side before thrusting into you. A scream gets caught in your throat, and you forget all about your aches as he roughly fucks into you without caring for protection or lube. It stings only slightly, but the pleasure in feeling so full of him outweighs the pain.

Jungkook is moaning and groaning as he bruises your thighs in his hold. Your panting is all he can catch, and though the feeling of you is an amplified sensation because of the drug coursing in his system, he wants to hear you chant his name as well. “Still quiet?” he tuts and carries you to your narrow bed and you cling onto his shoulder while trying to catch your breath after the sudden attack. “Your cunt is throbbing though,” he says as he pulls out of you and drops you on the bed. He manhandles you by flipping you on your stomach and holds up your ass. He finally takes off your bottom clothing, but he’s slightly dizzy as he yanks them off your ankles. He spreads your thighs apart and you’re on your knees with your head against the mattress. “I wonder why that is,” he says before slapping your pussy, making you whimper quietly. “So wet, yet you don’t even make a sound. Some whore you are.” You purse your lips and muster a whine, but it’s interrupted when he pistons his cock inside you without warning. Your sounds are hoarse as he pounds into you from the back, hands kneading your ass to the shape of his hands. He gives it a spank as he moans loudly; the new position makes it feel so much more intense, and Jungkook loves it. His ears finally get to hear your pathetic mewls as he thrusts so deeply inside you that your vision blurs with tears and your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You feel like a doll that can’t speak or move, and he’s evidently enjoying it going by his rushed pace. You’re challenging him with your silence, and he loves proving himself.

All of a sudden however, he stops moving. You look behind you with a pout and he quirks a brow at you. You grit your teeth because you know he's waiting for you to tell him to continue, or rather daring you to do something. A sudden surge of confidence overcomes you and you gently slam your hips against his, fucking yourself on his cock with your eyes screwed shut.

“Yes, baby,” he strains, “show me that you're still my good girl.” At his encouragement, you meet his thrusts faster and you're seeing stars at how amazing it feels. You want to be his good girl so bad, and you arch your back to savour the pleasure. “Your pussy is mine, all mine,” he affirms to himself and stills your hips to turn you around without removing his length. His fingers are digging into your flesh and your tits bounce under the fabric as he rams into you restlessly. Your mouth is open in a silent scream and he can barely make out your pupils, the whites of your eyes stirring his climax at how attractive you look under the poor lighting. “I love you so fucking much,” he cries, “say it back, baby.”

You try to, but you can only dryly cough. “You fucking bitch,” he hisses at your defiance and pulls out of you to pump his length. He’s close to his release, and he pushes up your sweater to see your hard nipples that make him salivate. He crawls to slide his cock between the valley of your breasts and it hurts when he harshly pushes them together. “Stick out your tongue,” he commands in a whisper, and you do so while panting like a dog. Every time he thrusts upwards, the tip of his head grazes your tongue and leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. He’s massaging your tits as he stutters between whines, and eventually his load spurts out to land on your chest and cheek with a particularly loud groan. His cum surges down his shaft as he rides out his high with the last slow thrusts. 

“Oh fuck,” he sighs airily and collapses next to you in the tiny space available. You clumsily turn on your side to give him more room and he pecks your swollen lips. He zips his pants back up and you’re still naked from the waist down. You’re staring at each other adoringly in the romantic, fragile atmosphere; another first.

“I love you,” you croak finally. It’s quieter than a whisper, and it makes you cringe at how hideous you sound; it’s painful as well.

His face lights up once he registers your words before noticing the tone. “What happened to your voice?”

“Sick.” You can’t bring yourself to say anything more as you snuggle into his side and he instinctively wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Shit,” he murmurs, “why didn’t you tell me that sooner, idiot?”

You slap a hand on his front pocket where his phone is, and he hastily takes it out to see a bunch of notifications from you. “You sent it at night, you’re still the idiot.” You giggle and roll your eyes. “A promise is a promise, though,” he purrs before cupping your bare heat. “I did say I would fuck you all night.” You widen your eyes when his head lowers down to face your sopping wet cunt, and he slowly licks up a stripe over your soaked folds, making you shudder and grip his hair. He’s leaving kitty licks all over your sensitivity, the tip of his tongue lightly brushing against your clit every now and then. Your hips lift involuntarily, and he finally takes your clit in his mouth and sucks on it loudly. He slurps your arousal before spitting it back on your hood, and you can only squeak in response. Your hazed mind only tells you that you want more, and he doesn’t fail to provide.

Two fingers enter your clenching hole, and he’s scissoring your walls as he messily eats you out. The pleasure from earlier returns all too soon and you know you won’t be able to last long. His lids are hooded when you glance down at him and the way he’s looking at you makes it even harder to resist your orgasm. The knot in your stomach picks back up right before unraveling and your moan is raspy as you start twitching under his relentless mouth. He grows gentle and leaves kisses all over your vulva until your body falls limp on the sheets.

After another round of penetrative sex, the two of you fall asleep from exhaustion in your bed. It’s a first for the both of you, and Jungkook decides in his drunken mind that tonight won’t be the last. It feels so intimate when he cuddles you, and you won’t ever forget his love confession.

The next morning is not so pleasant however, as Jungkook wakes up with a loud sneeze and in his now nasal voice says, “God fucking damn it.”

[lol-jackles]

Did you like the latest episode of Walker? And what about Dan, going from rival to ally?

I liked the episodes 5 minutes after watching it.  Initially the limited Cordell screentime c-blocked me from fully enjoying the episode because 1) I kept wondering what the hell happened to him and James when they were ambushed by mysterious baddies, and 2) the obvious 11th hour change to the script to fill in the gaps that previously held Cordell interaction scenes.  

Nonetheless  "Search and Rescue" finished strong by tying the 4 seemingly different storylines together neatly in the end by setting up resolutions in the penultimate where secondary characters are usually provided closure in advance of the finale focusing on the primary characters.  The show will never be accused of dragging out a plot to the point that I wouldn't mind if they spend just a little more time stewing in it.

The first "search" is Cordell and James finding Cassie’s presumed dead partner and rescuing him from baddies who wanted him dead and nearly killing Cordell and James in the process.  The bullet hole in Cordell’s hat is a chilling reminder to fans that Jared was lucky to survive a serious car accident prior to filming this episode.

The second “search” is Liam and Ben finding their way through their first date and eachother’s judgy attitude, which gives Liam the idea to pull a lawyer trick on Dan and Denise to see if a lone wolf or the whole family was in on sabotaging the horse race by cutting Cordell's saddle. 

The third “search” is Stella and Colton’s first date on a hiking trail that ends up being a “race” between them that led Colton getting injured by falling off a rock face.  Like typical Texans, the Walkers and Davidsons spring to action to search and rescue their own instead of asking for help from the government. My favorite scene is Liam telling Dan to search for “all the kids” and not ~accidentally leave behind a non-Davidson. 

Dan exasperatedly is ....

The fourth "search" is Trey and Cassie looking for new places to live as the lease on Micki's bungalow is up and Cassie's aptly located crossroad motel is being torn down.  Both are forced out of their comfortable limbo existence and into putting down new roots, but not before jumping into a helicopter to rescue Stella and Colton. 

The 1st and 4th storylines bring closure to Cassie now that the mystery of her missing partner is coming to a head, likely in the penultimate episode.  The 2nd and 3rd storylines bring Dan Miller to the Walkers' side in their quest to restore their good name, land, and legacy in the finale.  The twist of Dan defecting from the Davidson is a surprise but also inevitable; the Walkers never tried to win over Dan, they only tried to be fair people who constantly put aside their pride in order to do what is right.  Doing what is right without expecting anything in return is supposed to be its own reward.  Dan also had to put aside his pride in asking Bonham for help to run the ranch and perhaps witnessing the Walkers' action over talk finally influenced Dan to do the right thing and serve as the right hand of Justice to balance the scale.  However they handle Dan's redemption, I hope it comes with an explanation for his weird closeness with Gale.  

My score: 7.5.  The good storylines were hampered by the execution, perhaps brought on by the last minute change in order to accommodate Jared's reduced screentime while he recovers from a serious car accident just prior to filming this episode, and also helicopter scenes are hell to film because they're complicated machines that are inherently unstable aerodynamically and dynamically unstable in flight.  It has often been said that helicopters don't fly, they beat the air into submission.  2 point deduction for execution, 1 point deduction for limited Cordell screentime and interaction, half point return for beautiful helicopter scenes.  Helicopters are among my favorite aircrafts, they look like giant dragonflies.

[queenshelby]

The New Assistant (One Shot)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Smut

Words: 3985

Summary: You are Cillian Murphy’s new assistant for Season 6 of Peaky Blinders.

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

Your First Day at the Peaky Blinders Set

‘Mr Murphy, I am Y/N, your new assistant’ you said as you stood 1.5 feet across from him, complying with the social distance requirements.

‘Please, just call me Cillian’ Cillian said with a smile before telling you that it is nice to meet you.

‘Sorry Mr Murphy, uhm Cillian’ you said, causing him to laugh.

‘So, here are the scripts for today and a coffee’ you said. ‘Rose told me that this is how you drink your coffee, but if you like something else just let me know’ you added.

‘Thanks Y/N, it’s perfect’ Cillian said as he took a sip and getting on with his work.

You only recently began watching Peaky Blinders as you applied for the job and you couldn’t believe that, when you met Cillian, he had as much charisma as he displayed on camera.

His piercing blue eyes and smile were almost hypnotising, yet he seemed kind and down to earth.

You noticed that he was lost in his own little world as you observed him work for the morning. It was like he transformed into Thomas Shelby and, every time he spoke to you, it took him a little while to lose his Birmingham accent.

After you accompanied him on set for five hours, he asked you whether you could prepare the scenes for the next day for him.

You drew up a schedule for him, putting together transcript for each scene. You made two copies and placed them in small folders.

You were very organised and he appreciated it.

‘Two folders? Please tell me that they are not both for me’ he said with a slight worry as he stepped back into his trailer after finishing off for the day.

‘No, just one is for you. The other one is for me. Rose said that you like to rehearse your scenes in advance’ you said before offering him to rehearse the scenes with him.

‘Yes, but I usually do this alone’ Cillian said with a smile.

‘You sure? I mean, I am not a good actor but I did take some drama classes back in high school many years ago and I could point out any mistakes with the lines as I read along’ you said with some slight laughter as you pointed at the script.

‘Well, I suppose why not. This could be fun’ Cillian said, gladly accepting your offer. After all, it was better to have some company than talking to himself in the mirror.

‘Alright let’s do it then’ you said as you sat down on the small lounge in his trailer, giving him little time to prepare.

After Cillian took 15 minutes to read the scripts, he put the folder down on the table. You couldn’t believe that he remembered the lines already.

‘Alright Y/N, Scene 7, let’s go’ he said with a cheeky smile, waiting for your acting skills to surface.

‘Thomas, you cannot be serious’ you said putting in a terribly bad Birmingham accent, causing Cillian to a have a slight chuckle. You tried very hard to stay serious.

‘You should know that I am serious Lizzie’ Cillian responded, having memorised his script, Tommy’s thick accent surfacing.

‘You are going to get us killed Thomas. But you don’t care, do you? You never cared’ you said, improving slightly in your tone.

‘When have I not cared for you Lizzie, ey?’ Cillian said before continuing on with his lines.

The script was slowly moving towards the intimate scene between Tommy and Lizzie but you were only rehearsing the words, not the actions. A shame you thought, but you knew you had to remain professional.

‘Lizzie, you need to understand that this is what I need’ Cillian said as he went on. In the script this would be where Tommy steps closer towards Lizzie, wearing nothing but his black suit pants.

‘Oh trust me Tommy, I know what you need. Just fucking kiss me already’ you said, biting your lips and feeling slightly awkward as you spoke the line with such passion. Your thoughts wandered to the scene, playing it out in your head.

‘You should consider a career in acting Y/N’ Cillian smirked as he didn’t continue with the script. He became to notice that you were feeling slightly awkward.

‘I don’t think so’ you said shyly as you starred into his deep blue eyes. There was an awkward silence between you until Cillian finally spoke again.

‘Can we do this again?’ Cillian asked as he noticed that he missed a couple of words within his lines. You didn’t want to point the mistakes out to him as, in your mind, he was perfect.

You agreed to another round of rehearsals and all went smoothly the second time around until you reached the final line.

‘Oh trust me Tommy, I know what you need. Just fucking kiss me already’ you said, inhaling deeply before taking a break.

‘You sure do Lizzie’ Cillian said as he finished off the script for Scene 7, causing you to simply stare at Cillian.

‘And then Tommy gets to romp Lizzie’ Cillian said laughing before he suggested that you rehearse the next scene with him.

‘Lucky Lizzie’ you giggled just before you realised what you had just said.

‘I am not so sure, it looks pretty rough’ Cillian said as he flicked through the script.

‘Well, some women like it like this’ you said.

‘So I’ve heard’ Cillian said, not sure where this conversation was going.

‘How do you do it, acting scenes like this?’ you asked curiously, causing Cillian to laugh.

‘Well, you just switch off and do it, I suppose’ Cillian chuckled.

‘You know you still missed a word here’ you said shyly. ‘Do you want to try again?’ you said, causing Cillian to nod.

Without missing a single word, Cillian acted his entire script for the scene until your line came up once again.

‘Oh trust me Tommy, I know what you need. Just fucking kiss me already’ you said.

‘You sure do Lizzie’ Cillian responded, but you weren’t finished with your script this time.

Having read on from the last time, you knew what was happening in the script. Tommy and Lizzie were getting it on but not before Tommy grabs hold of Lizzie’s throat, looking into her eyes without speaking a word. His eyes were doing the talking in the end of the scene. So, you went on, finishing Lizzie’s final line before the cut.  

‘Don’t you want to fuck me?’ you asked with your eyes full of fire.

‘What?’ Cillian asked surprised.

‘That’s Lizzie’s last line and the final line in the script for Scene 7’ you answered.

‘Right, yes’ Cillian said, blushing slightly before an awkward silence erupted once again.

‘Shall we go the next scene now?’ you asked, causing Cillian to nod.

Acting it Out

The next day, you got to watch the scene you had rehearsed with Cillian the evening before and you couldn’t help it but be amazed by his acting skills.

At the same time, you were somewhat turned on by watching him with Lizzie, roughly throwing her onto the bed before taking her from behind.

You would have loved being in her shoes for a moment, but for real.

‘I watched your scene with the script in my hand, it was perfect’ you smiled as you gave Cillian some clothes to cover his half naked body.

You couldn’t help it but gaze over his freckled chest as he stepped closer and he was sure to notice.

‘Well, I had some good practice’ he smiled, not bothered by the fact that he was half naked and that you were clearly staring at him.

‘I am always here to help Cillian’ you said as you handed him the script for the next scene.

‘Thanks Y/N’ Cillian said before getting ready for the next scene.

The day went fast and Cillian pretty much disappeared to his apartment right after the day was finished.

As you went into his trailer to get your handbag, you noticed that he left his notes.

You knew that he was going to look for them to rehearse before tomorrow and decided to drop them off to him.

You were staying at the same hotel building so it wasn’t an inconvenience.

As you arrived at the hotel, you knocked on his door and he was quick to open.

‘You left this on set’ you said as you handed Cillian his notes.

‘Thank you Y/N’ he said before taking a pause.

He noticed that you were gazing into his apartment through the open door and raised his eyebrows slightly, smiling at you. It was like his eyes were asking you what you were doing without his mouth actually moving.

‘Oh sorry, I was just trying to see what the score was. I don’t have pay tv in my room’ you said with embarrassment, pointing at the TV.

‘Uhm, right. Would you like to come in and watch the game with me? I’ll even put on a shirt’ Cillian asked with smirk.

‘You know we aren’t allowed, with social distancing and so forth’ you said.

‘I won’t tell if you don’t’ Cillian said with a chuckle. He knew it wouldn’t have mattered as you spent a lot of time together already.

‘Alright then, it can stay our little secret’ you said as you walked inside his studio apartment.

Cillian was quick to put on a t-shirt, although you would have preferred if he didn’t.

‘You never mentioned that you liked soccer’ he said.

‘It never came up’ you responded, still somewhat nervous by his presence, being in his apartment.

But, you soon relaxed and sat down on the lounge with him.

Cillian offered you some wine as you were watching the second half of the game.

It was a tight finish with a score of 1-0. The last goal was scored in the final 10 minutes and it was nerve wrecking.

Cillian’s team won and you couldn’t help it but be a little disappointed as you were cheering for the opposite team.

‘Tomorrow is going to be a busy day’ you said as the game had finished, not knowing what else to say.

‘Yes, I am not looking forward to it’ Cillian said leaning forward to pour some more wine, cringing a bit as he moved.

‘Are you alright?’ you asked as you noticed that he seemed uncomfortable as he leaned forward.

‘Yes, I just hurt my back earlier during one of the scenes’ Cillian said.

‘Where does it hurt?’ you asked as you began tapping over his back, causing Cillian to look at you with surprise.

‘Oh god sorry’ you said, removing your hands quickly. ‘Bad habit’ you were quick to say.

‘Bad habit ey?’ Cillian asked with a smile.

‘Before COVID I was a physiotherapy student’ you explained. ‘I like to fix people’ you added with a laugh.

‘Right’ Cillian responded with a warm smile.

‘Would you like me to take a look and see if I can fix the pain?’ you asked.

‘Now that would defiantly break social distancing requirements’ Cillian chuckled.

‘I won’t tell if you don’t’ you said with grin on your face, causing Cillian to laugh.

‘Alright then, give it a crack’ he said.

‘Take off your shirt’ you said, causing Cillian to raise his eyebrows again before obliging with your request. It wasn’t like you hadn’t already seen him half naked.

You climbed behind him and couldn’t help but stare at his freckled skin again as you began to run your hands over his back, pressing hard on several trigger points until he eventually cringed.

‘Is that where it hurts?’ you asked.

‘Yes, fuck’ he said after you pressed down on the area harshly.

‘Sorry, but this might hurt a little’ you said while beginning to massage the area.

After about two minutes, the pain subsided but Cillian didn’t think to tell you. Instead, he let you continue with the movements. He began to enjoy the massage you were giving him.

‘That feels better’ you said, noticing the tension in his back disappearing slowly.

‘It does, but I don’t think I want you to stop now’ Cillian said jokingly.

‘I can keep going, if you like’ you said, moving your hands to other regions of his back while breathing in the sweet scent of his aftershave.

As your hands moved to his shoulders and over, slightly towards his chest, Cillian could feel a tingling sensation emerging in between his legs.

Hoping that you wouldn’t notice what was building up in between his legs, he placed his t-shirt across them, hiding his emerging erection.  

As you continued the massage for a few more minutes and he noticed that his erection would not go back down, he felt the need to tell you to stop, but he couldn’t bring it across his lips. It felt too nice and pleasurable.

Your hands were roaming across his back, up and down and you began to notice his breathing getting heavier.

As your hands suddenly stopped on his lower back he looked back over his shoulder, not realising that this was exactly where your face was at this moment.

His blue eyes gazed into yours for a moment as there was an awkward silence between you.

As you starred at him, your hands moved up again, causing him to breath in heavily once more.

In that moment, with your hands still wandering up his back, you leaned forward in sixty-degree angle, pressing your chest against his back and brushing his lips with yours.

Cillian gave into the kiss, turning around slightly to caress your face and pull you closer towards him. The kiss was intensifying and became more urgent with every moment.

‘I think all of the social distancing is out of the window now’ Cillian chuckled as your lips drifted apart and you climbed away from behind him.

Within just seconds, you pulled your t-shirt over your head and climbed onto his lap with one leg placed on each side of him before leaning in for another kiss.

Cillian ran his hands over your back as you exchanged a passionate kiss and you could feel his erection beneath you.

‘Let’s take our rehearsals a bit further, shall we?’ you said in between kisses as you grinded yourself against him.

‘We shouldn’t, you are my assistant’ Cillian responded while running his hands over your breasts, without any intention of stopping.

‘I won’t tell if you don’t’ you giggled as you stood up, taking off your jeans as well and letting them drop to the floor.

Cillian gazed over your body, taking in everything and admiring your curves.

‘I suppose it can stay our little secret, although I think it’s a bad idea Y/N’ Cillian said as he stood up in front of you, pressing his lips against yours while you reached for the zipper of his jeans.  

‘I think it’s a great idea. We both want this and need to get it out of our systems so that we can work well together. Despite, you are stressed, let me be a good assistant and relief that stress of yours’ you smirked as your hand ran beneath his briefs, taking hold of his erect cock.

Without responding to your comment, he pressed his lips onto yours again before guiding you backwards towards his bed.  

‘If I'd have known we'd be doing this I wouldn't have worn this’ you added, looking down at the underwear.

Cillian grabbed your chin lightly and pressed his lips to yours for a short moment.

‘It’s coming off anyway’ he winked at you before reaching behind you to unclip your bra. His gaze dropping to your small but perky breasts.

He took them in his hands grabbing onto them gently before pushing you onto the bed.

Next his hands went to your panties and pulled them down your legs and before you knew it you were laying on his bed completely naked and Cillian’s deep blue eyes devoured you.

You didn't feel self-conscious like you usually would because you could tell from that look in his eyes and his facial expression that he clearly liked what he saw.

Cillian’s eyes locked on yours as you sat up against the pillows and his fingers went into his waist band pulling down his briefs.

His erection stood proudly pointing at you and you weren’t disappointed with that either, he sure was packing down there!

He climbed onto the bed and pulled your legs apart, kneeling in between.

‘Is it bad that I’ve been fantasising about this?’ Cillian asked, still gazing over your naked body.

‘No. I've wanted this too’ you admitted, your eyes fixated on his hand moving up and down that cock of his.

‘I always had to touch myself whenever I went to bed because I wanted you so much’ you said.

‘Show me’ he breathed out, your eyes closing at his words and then opening as your hand slid down your body and stroked through your already damp folds.

He groaned as you pushed two fingers into your wetness.

With a quickness you had never witnessed before he grabbed a hold of your wrist and raised your fingers to his mouth, his eyes closing as his full lips wrap around your fingers sucking off your juices.

He then grabbed onto your other wrist and pinned them both above your head as he leaned down and ran kisses over your breasts and trailing them all the way down to your wet folds.

His hand went in between your legs, instantly finding your clit. He began to rub it, in small slow circles while his tongue ran through your wetness.

‘Fuck, Cillian’ you moaned as your hands reached down and grabbed onto his shoulders.

His movements became quicker and he increased the pressure, pressing down harder and harder. He then replaced his finger with his tongue on your clit as he shoved two fingers inside you, pumping them slowly in and out.

‘You're so fucking wet Y/N’ Cillian groaned, his eyes never leaving yours.

His fingers soon curled upwards against your g-spot as he continued to pump them in and out of you.

You gasped out at the sensation and could feel yourself racing towards your first orgasm of the night and you had a sneaky feeling that it most definitely wouldn't be the last.

As his force and speed increased so did your moans and you reached down and gripped his hair, pulling on it.

‘That’s it, oh god’ you moaned loudly as your walls began clenching around your fingers while your orgasm washed over you.

Cillian slowed down the finger action and let go of your clit then wickedly flicked his tongue against it once more making you flinch.

He grinned at you as he moved up your body and then took your mouth in a deep kiss.

You shoved your tongue into his mouth, tasting your own arousal and then somehow flipped him over so you were straddling his hips.

You tasted the skin of his neck. Then you made your way down that freckled chest, gently biting his left nipple on the way down.

You licked at his toned abs and then reached that hard as steel erection that was already oozing precum. His breathing was becoming deeper as you encircled your hand around him and pumped a couple times before flicking your tongue against the head.

‘Fuck’ Cillian moaned as his hand reached for your hair while you began bopping up and down his shaft.

You enjoyed the taste of his precum as you continued your movements for several moments while using your fingers to play with his balls.

He loved every moment of it but, after a while, had to ask you to stop for obvious reasons.

You obliged. You wanted him inside of you badly.

Cillian then reached for the bedside table, grabbing a condom from the draw and putting into his hard cock.

Before he could change position you climbed on top of him.

‘No need to be gentle, I like it just like Lizzie does’ you smirked, causing his eyes to roll into the back of his head as your pussy slid over his hard cock and you guided it inside of you.

You were unbelievably tight causing Cillian to moan out load on that first stroke.

Your hands were resting on his chest as you slowly raised yourself up and then dropped back down over and over teasing him to the point where his hands were digging into your thighs.

You began to quicken your pace, riding him faster and faster.

Cillian held onto your hips as he thrust his up to your stroke by stroke unknowingly getting faster until he was holding you up and thrusting into you so hard and fast that you were crying out his name.

It was obvious to you that he also liked it rough and, as soon as your walls began to contract around him, he flipped you over onto your back.

He wanted to take control and you were absolutely fine with that.

Your legs wrapped around his waist as he continued to thrust into your tight hole for several more minutes.

Unhooking your legs from around him, Cillian leaned up and rested them over his shoulders before increasing his pace.

His hand reached down and began rubbing your swollen clit, making you cry out once again continuously.

‘Oh god yes’ you moaned as you were so close again.

Just as your walls began tightening around his hard cock, he pulled out of you.

‘Not yet’ he smirked before he told you to get on your hands and knees.

‘Please Cillian, just fuck me’ you pleaded as he was tasing your entrance with his hard cock from behind you.

‘As you wish’ he said as, all of a sudden, with one deep thrust, he buried himself inside of you again.

You cried out as he entered you and his thrusting was slowing down for a moment as he pushed his hips into you as deep as humanly possible.

The thrust was hard and deep, but he soon picked up pace again.

‘Oh god yes. Fuck me hard’ you groaned out into the pillow beneath you.

That was all he needed to hear, his hips slamming into you harshly as you pushed your back.

Second later, remembering the scene between Tommy and Lizzie, he grabbed a handful of your silky hair and pulled on it, making you arch your back as he fucked you from behind.

‘Yes, don’t stop’ you moaned as his speed picked up more and more with each thrust.

‘Fuck Y/N’ Cillian groaned, his hands regaining their grip on your waist.

‘Oh my god Cillian’ you moaned, your voice muffled by the pillow and your walls tightening around his cock.

Your orgasm came running over you like a speed train as you screamed loudly, sending Cillian over the edge also.

Within seconds of your own orgasm, Cillian found his release, his thrusts slowing down as he rode out his orgasm.

‘Fuck’ was all he managed to say as he pulled out of you and disposed the condom filled with his sweet cum.

You were still huffing, your body limb just as he collapsed next to you.

‘Feeling better now?’ you grinned.

‘Yes actually’ he smiled before giving you a quick kiss.

After you spent about ten minutes curled up with each other it was time for you to leave. After all, you both had a busy day ahead.

‘So, just let me know if you ever need some more stress relief’ you smirked as you said goodnight.

[thoughts-on-bangtan]

What’s going on with JK interjecting himself into everything v does? I hate the narrative of Jk being jealous. However you could see this coming to a head with JM. jm looked done during a recent clip of them in green. He kept looking at TK and V arm around Jk and tonight’s muster Vmin had a moment and jk grabbed v. Taejin moment and jk grabs v. Vmin moment jk pours water on JM. Then JM separates TK. I’m starting to feel bad for JM, cause Now he’s being branded jealous. Tae has to see JM hurt.

Usually we ignore asks like this because this constant need for drama and making yourself worry due to things that are not really there is just too much on every level and the only real answer that comes to my head is a single word: No.

But, you know what, here are some of our thoughts beyond that single word, even if it all still boils down to it anyway:

Bangtan are a seven member band and MUSTER is the celebration of them all, their 8th anniversary and a show to entertain us and to give them what they are so dearly missing even if only in an ontact version. They aren't paid actors playing a script, and concerts/MUSTER isn't an episode of some TV show with the question of will they or won't get get together or will the jealous secondary character get in the way of their love once more. JK isn’t jealous and he also doesn’t “ruin” moments, the way some claim (you know who I mean), nor does he try to pull Tae away from members or display some kind of possessiveness over any of them in any manner. 

Why do you insist on basically character-assassinating JK over and over again when we know he isn’t that kind of person based on everything we know about him and have seen of him and his interactions with the members and people around them?

In the past JK said he is basically like an amalgamation of all the members along with parts of himself, that he loves his members dearly and that they all take good care of him (BTSxGame Caterers). Just yesterday for FESTA did JK say that Tae is his friend and Jimin said JK is his younger brother/dongsaeng. Why, instead, can’t we be happy seeing JK and Tae interact again so freely and happily like they used to years ago before their awkwardness arose (according to them)? Why, instead, must you come into our asks and twist the situation into something it isn’t?

How many times do we have to turn around and around and around and think of this question and narrative just phrased differently until we finally stop? Until we can finally lay to rest the evil JK trying to destroy vmin narrative or the weird notion that somehow Tae, Jimin and JK have been living in the worlds most convoluted, unrealistic and dramatic love triangle for the last ten years? These things only happen in teen dramas but not in real life. This isn’t Vampire Diaries Bangtan Edition where at the end of season eight basically every character had a thing with every character or whatever.

Vmin are something special and their closeness and the love they have for each other has no relation to JK, or any of the other members, nor do their interactions with JK, or any other members, change that fact in any way. We’ve seen so many cute and fun interactions today, and just like all the other vminnies and OT7s, we are now going back to enjoying those instead. ByeBye.

From anon: I hope you saw how Jin directly told Joon to hop off the car and he called Taehyung instead. But I guess that goes against the Namjin agenda 🤣

Another Ta*j*nist, hello, only the second time we’ve had one of you come to us. Since I can’t add the video, here is a description of what it shows: Namjoon, Seokjin, Hobi and Tae walk toward two of the Chicken Noodle Soup cars for the next performance. Hobi gets into the first car, Namjoon in the one behind it, Tae without much thought gets into the first one while Seokjin approaches the second car, communicates something with Namjoon who gets out of the car and swaps places with Tae.

The ultimate proof of Ta*j*n being real, is that it, since that’s what the tweet claims? None of this goes against my/the “Namjin agenda”, since there is no agenda to begin with, and everything this moment tells me is that there was a plan for who was supposed to go with who but either Namjoon or Hobi made an error and Seokjin/Tae fixed it. Just like Jimin and JK automatically stayed behind and Yoongi walked toward the third car. Do you really believe that with an expensive and extensive production such as MUSTER something even as “trivial” as who will go into which car with who isn’t planned and discussed in advance? Can you imagine what chaos would take over the stage if everyone would do what they want? And no, this isn’t be “explaining away” “””evidence”””, it’s me being rational when faced with nonsense. Sorry. I usually try to be friendly, nice, but this is ridiculous. 

Also are you really naive enough to believe that moments such as this one, or what the first anon described, on stage can challenge these bonds built and nurtured for nearly a decade? That something as trivial as this (this being the moment anon talked about, not the bond Tae and Seokjin have) is somehow stronger “”proof”” than everything we have of the last eight years? Is this some kind of joke? Are we just being pranked?

EDIT: Since some people love twisting words in my mouth--the anon and the video/profile that the video for this moment came from was a shipper, so if I “trivialized” or downplayed something, then it wasn’t Tae and Seokjin as friends and how much they love each other in that way, there is no doubt about that in my mind even for a second, I merely wanted to show that such a small moment of them taking a car together isn’t “””proof””” enough to discredit both vmin (and everything we have about them that leads us to believe what we believe) and namjin (same case) and “crown” ta*j*n (in a romantic sense) as winners or whatever. Tae and Seokjin are wonderful together and one of my favorite duos (my bias wreckers even) so don’t even try to come for me for trivializing them or downplaying their bond, since I didn’t, just because I basically said I don’t ship them nor see any potential/”proof” for their supposed romance in that moment (or any other one).

What is it with people that instead of focusing on how fun the show was, how much the members enjoyed it, and how lucky we are to see them on stage again, people just focus on either negativity or trying to create ways to have their gotcha moments against other shippers? Aren’t you tired? Are you really ARMY at all?

Just like everyone else we want to enjoy MUSTER and celebrate how fun these two concerts were, so these asks? Any new ones coming in will simply be deleted if they are equally as nonsensical. If you want drama, find someone else who is as into it as you are because we are not.

[scarletarosa]

Thoth

Egyptian god of knowledge, wisdom, writing, mathematics, science, magic, truth, integrity, time, and the Moon

Thoth (Egyptian: Djehuty) played many roles in Egyptian myths and held many different roles. There are several different versions of the myth of his birth, one being that Thoth was born from the lips of Ra at the beginning of creation, another that he was born from the forehead of Set. However, as Thoth’s popularity grew, another myth arose which claimed him to be the Great Creator. This myth says that Thoth, in the form of an ibis, laid an egg from which the god Ra was born. Yet another myth claims that Thoth had been born by his own will through the power of speech. In all of these variations, the common theme is that Thoth was born asexually.

Depictions of Thoth usually show him as a man with the head of an ibis (a sacred animal of his), though other times he may be shown as a baboon. He is shown holding either a scribe’s palette and a stylus or an ankh and sceptre. The wife of Thoth is Ma’at, the goddess of truth and justice, with whom he fathered Seshat, the goddess of knowledge, wisdom, writing, calculating, and sciences, as well as the Ogdoad deities: Nu, Naunet, Hehu, Hehut, Kekui, Kekuit, Qehr, and Qehret. As the “Voice of Ra” Thoth would sometimes be shown with the “Eye of Ra” symbol and as a god of the Moon, he could at times be seen depicted with the crescent Moon on his head.  

Roles: Being one of the most complex and important of the Egyptian gods, Thoth holds many roles and abilities. He is credited with being the one who taught the Egyptians how to write after Seshat (Thoth’s daughter) invented the hieroglyphics. He is also credited with being the inventor of the calendar, and the one who controls space and time. Since he is also a god of the moon, he has celestial functions as well and replaces the sun god, Ra, in the sky at night. He is also said to be the creator of every work of knowledge and is even claimed to be the author of the spells in the Egyptian “Book of the Dead” and the “Book of Breathings” (with the latter also given credit to Isis). Legends tell of the “Book of Thoth” which Thoth had written to include all the secrets of the universe. It is believed that anyone who reads this book becomes the most powerful sorcerer in the world, but would be cursed by their great knowledge. This god was believed to have knowledge of every single thing and would use his profound wisdom in order to be a mediator during troubling events. With his gift of speech, Thoth was excellent in both persuasion and counsel.  

Weighing of the Heart: One of Thoth’s many roles was as a messenger and bookkeeper for the funerary deities, with one of these responsibilities having him be the recorder of the verdicts during the heart-weighing ceremony in Duat (the Underworld). During this ceremony in the Hall of Ma’at, Thoth would assist Anubis as a white feather of Ma’at is placed upon the golden scaled of truth along with the heart of the human spirit. If the heart was found to be heavier than Ma’at’s feather, it would show that the spirit had been evil during their life, and would then be thrown to the goddess Ammit. Once devoured by this goddess of doom, the spirit would be put through eternal suffering as punishment for their corruption. 

If the heart was simply neutral, the spirit would be put through reincarnation until they resolved their karmic debt and learnt their lessons. If the heart was balanced with the feather, then the spirit would be granted passage to the Field of Reeds- the Paradise realm. Thoth would be the one to record and report each result to Osiris and the fourty-two judges, all of whom preside under the goddess Ma’at. Once a verdict was reached, the sentence would be carried out accordingly. Thoth always provided guidance for the deities and regulated common everyday complaints and created new laws. Thoth suggested that if a problem couldn’t be solved, then a group should get together as an assembly and discuss it.  

Myths: In the myth of how Thoth lengthened the year (which was originally 360 days), it tells of how Nuit, the goddess of the sky and daughter of Atum, was prophesized to give birth to the new King of the Gods. Seeking to stop this, Atum the Creator cursed Nuit to never have children on any day of the year. The distressed goddess then went to Thoth for comfort, who promised her that he could find a way around the curse. He went to the Moon god Khonsu (in some versions it is Iabet) and challenged him to a game of dice in which Khonsu would bet his own moonlight. Thoth proved to be more lucky and won, so he gathered up the light of the Moon and used it to create five extra days of the year, allowing Nuit to have five days available for the birth of her children. In the myth of Osiris, Thoth helped protect Isis during her pregnancy with Horus, and later healed the eye of her son which had been damaged by Set during a battle.

Personal experiences: Thoth is deeply kind-hearted, patient, studious, wise, polite, curious, diligent, and balanced. He strongly values temperance in everything- remaining moderate and maintaining a healthy balance in all matters. Through his wife, Ma’at, he is balanced even further and his expansion towards knowledge is kept more steady. Thoth usually keeps to himself, but can be quite friendly in social matters and engages in dialogue whenever addressed. He provides very useful insight in a multitude of topics, seeming to have knowledge on practically everything. His mind is deeper than the ocean and is utterly unfathomable to humans.

Thoth strongly believes in the evolution of one’s self through learning, laborious efforts, and enriching one’s own experiences. These challenges are all seen as aids on the path towards spiritual rebirth and evolution. While many view Thoth as knowledge just for the sake of learning, he is vastly more complex than this as he represents the absolute understanding of the cosmos and the experiences needed for one to advance above being an ordinary person through the trials of Illumination. Thus, Thoth is the granter of all knowledges, both mundane and illuminating, making him an excellent mentor to the gates of true understanding.

Thoth is an excellent tutelary deity for all seekers of truth and knowledge. As patron of the scribes, people who struggle with writing can call upon his guidance as well. A lesser aspect of Thoth is his unique understanding of mathematical principals in language. Therefore, Thoth can create dozens of different scripts (magical or mundane) according to need, all being equally powerful due to their unique mathematical principles.  

Regarding his marriage to Ma’at, this bond between their two essences represents balance, knowledge, and science. Thoth has explained that he has united with his daughter, Seshat, as well (nonsexually, in order to create new necessary creations). This unity with Seshat represents curiosity and the search for wisdom, and with their combined energies, they created Khonsu, the god of the moon and healing (as well as representing the initiate on the path of Illumination). 

Epithets:

Author of Every Work on Every Branch of Knowledge

The Mysterious One

He Who Proclaims Laws

The One who Made Calculations Concerning the Heavens, Stars, and the Earth

He Who Determines Time

Moon of Beautiful Risings

Creator of All Things

Excellent Scribe

Scribe of the Divine Book

Protector of the Two Lands

Governor of Books

Ra that Shines in the Night

Ender of Strife

Eloquent Judge

Counsellor of Ra

Orderer of Fate

True of Heart

The Reckoner of Time and of Seasons

The Witness

The One Who Measured out the Heavens and Planned the Earth 

Offerings: earl grey tea (plain), cold water, orange juice, honey, tangerines, lemons, apricots, blackberries, raisins, salmon, tuna, lamb ribs, chicken, onions, chives, garlic, basil, parsley, cashews, walnuts, orange liquor cakes, hyacinth, lily of the valley, mastic, ibis feathers, quills, fountain pens, stylus pens, scrolls, papyrus, hourglasses, scales, leather-bound books, chrysoberyl, imperial topaz, selenite, lapis lazuli, silver, poetry, ibis statuettes, and baboon statuettes.   *no alcohol or drugs (he desires to have clarity of mind at all times)

Information on Ma’at

[aphrodite-would-be-proud]

@ava-sr said: EE i do apologize that this is late, but maybe a small request because of my moblit-brainrot. which dates he would like to take you on? maybe like one of those guided painting classes? aGh all i know is that man is the absolute sweetest and i love him with all my heart

Types of dates with Moblit pt.1

{ Moblit x reader | tw:none | fluff | modern }

{ "Vanitas Still Life" 1662 by Edwaert Collier c. 1640 - after 1707 London or Leiden }

Ideal dates : these are dates he plans up ahead, makes sure they go smoothly and you're both are having fun. He really looks forward to these dates, they're like an event for him. He saves them up for important occasions like your anniversary, valentine's day, birthday.

I. Cuddling for hours at a time

you have to understand that in Moblit's overworked and stressful life, moments of respite are rare and far. He's so deprived of touch and love that it's a miracle how he has managed to function without even a beep. The thought of having someone to warm his bed, cradle his worries and put them to rest by simply combing through his hair, never crossed his mind despite having a hundred thoughts running through it per minute.

Some days he manages to forget your existence even, not out of some selfish desire or to belittle you, but out of disbelief, after all it's too good to be true.

You're too good to be true to him.

Your tender words pull him back each time he blindly steps closer to the edge, a never-ending spiral of self-destructive work tendencies awaiting him at the bottomless abyss. Your warm embrace shutting out the swarm of nagging voices meant to guilt him out of rest, to act as if the key to curing his sleep deprivation was to not acknowledge its existence, that fatigue symptoms could be erased by his own homemade placebo remedies.

As if your mere touch could turn anything to gold, and in his case, it did. 

It was what made the difference between an anxiety inducing catastrophic day, and a mere rough stepping stone he could easily manoeuvre around leaving his pace steady and undisturbed.

Reminding that it's okay to fail, to give something your best only for it to crumble to dust. It's a process of trial and error, it takes time and patience.

You don't get to choose how well things end up working out, it's not up to you nor is it your place.

And that's why for him, his ideal place in the world is in your arms, to simply let the rise and fall of your chest lull him into comfortable numbness. His features softening as the oxytocin levels rise, courtesy of your warm embrace, soft skin providing just the right pressure against his own.

Laying on your shared bed together, the soft breeze coming from the open windows moves the thin curtains. Moblit is Holding you close as one of his arms sneak around you, fingertips tracing shapes up and down your back. Face buried in your shoulder as yours rests on top of his head, stray hairs almost tickling your nose when you brush against them.

The passing of time does little to his cotton filled mind, occasionally attempting to pull you even more closer as if it's possible. Legs tangled with yours under the heavy blanket despite him hogging most of it.

Every now and then, when a certain amount of time passes, he'd look at you with half-closed eyes, a lidded look of satisfaction before murmuring in his sleepy voice.

"Do you want to get up?" And despite his sincere words and warm tone, his body makes no move to detach itself from your side.

Does he know the soothing effect of the circles he keeps drawing up your back? Or how much him talking with his lips still pressed against your neck makes you melt just a bit.

Whatever it is, Moblit seems confident in his ability to keep you snuggled against him, tucked underneath the warm blanket and fluffy pillows almost muffling your answer.

II. Visiting a music bar

Preferably something with soft yellowish lights, small enough spaces not meant for dancing but to create an intimate atmosphere akin to a music venue.

A jazz club, maybe a brewery.

Dimmed sunlight seeping through the thin curtained window, shadow traces of people smoking outside while making small talk, cushioned bar stools placed around the long bar with a mirrored wall behind it as several aged bottles and fancy glasses with signatures decorate the wooden shelves.

The quiet chatter of people blurring behind the mellow music the band is playing on the nearby stage, smooth movement with relaxed postures as if they've done this a hundred times before, and they probably have.

You're sitting in one of the booths near the window, a private spot where you're far enough for people not to notice yet close enough to still hear the music flowing.

The beat is slow, hypnotising even that the minutes blur together. 

Moblit giving you a smile as he comes back with your drinks, sitting opposite of you before handing you the cold glass, ice cubes clinking against each other as you raise the frosted rim to your lips, sugary sweet filling your senses, the cooling sensation of the drink slides down your throat.

There's a hint of citrus in it.

You've learned to trust Moblit's choice in drinks after being together for so long, he just knows what's going to taste good and which kind of drink you seem to need without having to say a word.

He seems comfortable here, even referring to the bartender by his name like they've been friends for a while, and maybe they have judging by the out-of-script welcoming he gave Moblit.

One conversation starts another and both of you find it so easy to talk to each other without boundaries or second thoughts, the smiles and occasional chuckles almost never leaving your features while nursing on your drinks.

He tells you stories from his work and about his co-workers. You find yourself entranced by his seemingly abusered line of work and the amount of chuckle worthy instances a single work day can offer.

That one time Hange knocked the liquid incense oils that someone Levi brought to freshen the place, well to their luck the oils fell directly on an open flame from the nearby scented candle which resulted in the fire spreading through the liquid alcohol between the broken glass.

And despite the feeling of dread, from seeing his files catch on fire this story brings him, the sound of your chocked laughter as you almost spilled your drink over your clothes, made it all worth it for him.

III. Antique shop

There was something to be said about Moblit's yearning for especially old looking things, trinkets, crumpled maps, tea stained letters and silvered mirrors.

You can't miss the gleam in his eyes as he opens the antique store door open for you the chime of the door bells following after. The smell of burning incense lingering in the air alongside the slow ticking of an old wooden clock.

The look on his face is of pure fascination, his eyes following the trail of the objects lined on the tables, from the old oil paintings with hand carved frames to the crystals reflecting sunlight next to the colourful stones. Observing as he carefully walks behind you through the narrow spaces between the tables and shelves. 

Pulling your attention whenever he finds a particular curious thing to show you as if it's an offering, it can range from music boxes with a really familiar melody that you can't quite remember or a beautifully shaped rose quartz stone that feels cool against your palm.

Whatever he brings, it often manages to intrigue you in some way. Moblit could always notice things other people would skip over otherwise, scanning the tables was like a small treasure hunt.

He'd always pick one or two leather journals, almost filled to the brim with ink scribbled pages and tea stained spots, personal diaries dating back to the 90's and if he's lucky they might edge towards the 80'. He likes to read them, live in someone else's shoes even for a split second, puzzle pieces falling in place as he figures out what kind of person the author was.

Of course sharing his discoveries with you while having lunch later, not out of pride nor to show off, but out of genuine respect to other people's lives and their dedication for leaving behind a piece of their soul.

IX. Roadtrip 

It's something he plans months ahead in advance, he genuinely wants to make the best out of the few weeks off both of you got to spend together. Making sure to plan a set of destinations, preparing snacks and food, packing your essentials and renting a big enough van.

A small getaway even, to completely leave everything behind and set out on a carefully planned adventure with the one he loves most, you.

Enjoying the fresh weather, the high sun and fast wind as both of you roll down the windows, fields of green and yellow meet you alongside the road the further away you move from the city.

Although be careful; the Moblit behind the wheel is a much much more different than the one you know, he's using all what remains of his self-restraint not to speed down the highway and swirl, the thought crosses his mind every hour or so and he's visibly agitated when you're forced to drive behind a particularly slow driver.

You might even have to remind him of the speed limit occasionally just so you don't end up with a pile of speeding tickets at the end of the trip.

It's like all his usually cautious and calculating demner evaporates into mist the second he touches the steering wheel, Temptations of just flooring it while high on adrenaline still linger in the back of his mind.

Beside that, the trip is a relatively calm one as you get to bask in all the new and different places you'll get to visit. Try new food and walk through different city streets, just the experience of something out of the usual is enough to satisfy Mobilt. Not to mention the fact he gets to experience it with you and just wander around without a purpose or care as long as you're together.

He'll definitely keep in mind what sort of things you seem to like, what intrigues you and the kind of reactions you show. He even started an album filled with mostly your pictures and the things you've seen.

It's most relaxing and filled with low stakes, nothing too fancy but nothing too boring either. Walking the thin line perfectly.

X. Visiting a museum

But not just any museum you see, one centred around natural history. Displaying everything from ancient fossils to full on skeleton displays of a 122 foot titanosaur, depictions of distant relatives of homosapiens and modern evolution trees of the current animals.

Moblit guiding you through the shiny tile floor and between the exhibits while holding your hand, eyes gleaming with passion as he goes on and on about each thing you glance at. Making all the trivial facts seem more fascinating than they have any right to be.

The squeaking sound of footsteps echoing on the too clean floors as four children pass you by, racing each other towards the iron suits of armour on display. They almost fall over the red ropes from leaning too close in, their caregiver seemingly busy talking with a security guard over the 'smoking not allowed' sign. 

You spare them a final glance before following Moblit through the corridor leading to the world history & old inventions section. Soon enough he steals your attention again as he begins talking about the first airplane prototype that you can't help but be enamoured by.

Despite there being a sign framed on the wall that sums up the jest of Moblit's lecture, he manages to make it not only less boring but add his own twist and uncommon known facts to it that it feels less of a history trip and of an interesting conversation.

He has so much knowledge that he's so eager not to only share but hear your own opinion and take on it, valuing your view no matter what amount of knowledge you have over the subject.

XI. Painting together

It's an idea that you offhandedly suggested after your museum visit, after all spending an hour in the Impressionism era gallery did leave an impression on you. And so the suggestion of checking out an art store for some acrylics and a couple brushes left your lips on the way home without a second thought.

Well little did you know that the small suggestion managed to latch into Moblit's brain for weeks after, making him spend his free time searching and gaining information on painting and how to start, he even managed to find some really good classes having a limited time course sale

That's how both of you end up in a guided painting class, seated next to each other with aprons on and a pallet to mix paint tubes in. You'll find out how much of a fast learner Moblit is, so much that most of the class he spends guiding your hand through the steps and offering his help whenever possible, although he still remembers not to be overbearing and still gives you space.

Both of you are in your own bubble from the class, being with him makes you feel easy and more reassured. He's like your very own comfort corner that you seek in every party, except that he can walk around with you and always looks out for you.

And whatever you end up putting on that canvas, Moblit will cherish more than any renaissance painting, will even insist on hanging it somewhere in the apartment.

[gukyi]

the courtship chronicles (post-script) | ksj

summary: or, the one where seokjin goes from being your plus-one at a friend’s wedding to the one you’re getting married to at your own. 

{established relationship!au, friends to lovers!au}

pairing: kim seokjin x female reader genre: fluff word count: 2k warnings: alcohol mention (champagne), wedding nerves! a/n: again, major shoutout to @aurawatercolor​ for sticking with me even though it’s taken me months to write this drabble that i promised them. i hope it’s everything you dreamed of!

The plus side of being the person getting married at a wedding, as opposed to being the person who’s going to watch, is that you don’t need to worry about bringing a plus-one. 

Granted, you have not seen Seokjin all day, too busy sitting in your budget bridal suite hotel room getting your hair and makeup done while all of your bridesmaids drink champagne and celebrate, so maybe you should be worrying about him. This wedding couldn’t have been pulled off so smoothly if it weren’t for his uncanny ability to make everything he touches absolutely perfect, and without him, you feel like a fish out of water. 

He’s texting you constantly, if that’s any consolation. Keeping you updated on all of the mishaps happening over in his hotel room. One of his groomsmen does not have any shoes. At all. 

In hindsight, you’re not sure if knowing Seokjin’s whereabouts will make you more or less stressed. 

The fact of the matter is that, like most things in your life, you’re absolutely terrible at planning major events like weddings. House parties you host usually end up with someone pulling out the fire extinguisher and the food going cold, so to place something as paramount to the rest of a couple’s livelihoods as a wedding in your hands would be a trainwreck. The upside is that weddings, unlike house parties, are usually planned by multiple people months in advance. Though you wouldn’t doubt something going horribly wrong today. 

Not getting to see Seokjin is the most ridiculous part of the whole day anyway, because he’s your fiance, and the love of your life, and the only one who can keep both of your heads screwed on straight. This wedding wouldn’t be nearly as good if it weren’t for him. He handled everything from the venue to the photographer to the invitations. You just joined him for the cake tasting. 

“Is it normal to feel sort of weird about this whole thing?” You ask as the makeup artist applies powder onto your face, baking you like the wedding cake sitting at your wedding venue. 

“Weird how?” Cynthia asks from where she’s seated on the bed, fixing the clips in her hair. “Like, an uneasy kind of weird feeling? Or a jittery kind?”

“Like, Seokjin and I have been best friends for years. I don’t know, I feel like us dating was basically us being friends but with kissing,” you say with a shrug. The idea of marrying your best friend still puts an unidentifiable taste into your mouth. It is by no means unpleasant, but it certainly makes you feel something fierce. 

“That’s kind of what dating is,” Cynthia points out unhelpfully, though you suppose she’s right. 

“Is this how you felt when you got married?” You ask. Cynthia’s wedding seems like eons ago, even if it was only a year and a bit. It only feels so far removed because between her wedding and yours, you fell in love with, began dating, and got engaged to your best friend. Time moves fast. 

“Everyone feels different,” Cynthia tells you. “I felt like I was going to throw up the entire time until I said ‘I do.’ But you and Seokjin have been best friends for what, like eight years? You know everything there is to know about each other. Give yourself some credit, Y/N. The history that the two of you share is ridiculous. It’s not like you’re just marrying some rando off of Hinge.”

“I just… I guess I feel like Seokjin and I have sort of always been married, in a way. And that all of this is just a formality. We’re best friends before anything else. Sometimes, it’s still weird for me to think about the fact that we love each other.”

Cynthia grins fondly. She knows better than anybody, having watched the two of you pine after each other for years. “Then don’t think about it like you’re marrying your best friend, or the person you’ve been dating for the past year. Think about it like you’re marrying Seokjin. It’s just Seokjin. You love him.”

It’s just Seokjin. 

It is. 

It always has been. 

 To spare yourselves the drama of revealing yourselves to each other the moment that the bells start playing and you prance down the aisle, you and Seokjin have decided to do a first look, deciding that if you’re going to cry (and you definitely will), it’s better in private than when all of your friends and family are watching you share the most important moment in life. Seokjin’s been waiting at the venue for the past five minutes already, with you running late, as always, but with every turn the Uber driver takes, you feel the thing that Cynthia was talking about. Feel the nerves rushing through your body, the bile rising in your throat. You’re getting married today. You think you’re about to hurl. 

Eventually, you arrive, hopping out of the Uber driver with your massive wedding dress behind you, train dragging along the pavement as you scurry towards the venue, desperate to see him and praying that the minutes go by slower all at once. You miss him. Is that weird? You see him every day, and in a few hours you’ll be promising the rest of your lives to each other, and you miss him. 

The truth is that you don’t think you’ll ever be able to live without him. Not freshman year of college, not after you graduated, and certainly not now. Not ever. 

Even though it’s private, the few people who accompanied you to the venue still want it to be as dramatic as possible, Cynthia reaching up to cover your eyes with her hands as she leads you inside, the air conditioning sending shivers down your spine as you get out of the early summer humidity. All you can do is feel around, hands in front of you for balance as Cynthia slowly guides you towards who you can only assume is Seokjin, with his eyes covered as well. You can’t wait to see him. You already feel yourself sinking whenever he’s not around. 

“Three, two, one!”

Cynthia pulls her hands away and you nearly break down into tears at the sight of him. 

There he is. Standing there in a crisp black suit, tailored to fit his figure perfectly. There’s a white rose wrapped in the boutonniere pinned to the lapel of his jacket, golden arrows interlocked beneath it. You had no idea what Seokjin had ordered for his suit, but it’s perfect, and so is he. He’s standing there, right in front of you, ready to marry you. Ready to be by your side for the rest of time. 

Seokjin doesn’t seem to be faring much better. He immediately bursts into tears when he sees you, overcome with love, with joy, with admiration, as he sees you in your white dress, with the veil tucked neatly into the top of your head, spreading outwards like angel wings. 

“Oh, wow,” Seokjin says, speechless. 

“Wow yourself,” you tell him back. You’ve seen Seokjin in everything from a chef’s apron to a college hoodie and gym shorts, to a police officer costume, but this blows all of those out of the water. He doesn’t look like your best friend, your college confidant, your fiance. He looks like a celebrity, like he should be in a magazine modeling Rolex watches, like he should be standing on a red carpet as cameras flash and paparazzi shout, desperate for him to look their way. 

 “I—I’m,” Seokjin begins as he opens his arms for you. You gladly accept his invitation, walking towards him as if in a trance, letting him pull you in close, the scent of him filling up your senses. “You’re beautiful, did you know that?”

“You’re beautiful,” you tell him. “I’m so lucky.”

He presses a kiss to your lips and it still feels like the very first one, still makes you feel like you’re enveloped in his warmth, like sparks are flaring through your veins. He still makes you feel the way he has always made you feel: loved. Treasured. Cherished. 

“I can’t believe we’re getting married,” you confess, the words a weight off of your chest. 

“I can’t believe it’s taken so long. I would have married you right out of college if I had known,” Seokjin admits. 

You lean down to kiss him again, a soft, sweet one that lasts no more than a second. How many of those you have shared, you’ve lost count. You hope that, when the world comes to an end, it will be something close to infinity. 

“You don’t have to wait any longer,” you promise. “We’re there.”

 The ceremony goes off without a hitch and with more tears than you are personally willing to admit, leaving only the reception for there to be any opportunity for mishaps and mayhem. Luckily, now that Seokjin’s here, you feel as though your bad luck has vanished, like he is all of the good karma you could ever need. 

Neither you nor Seokjin have ever been particularly good at getting down, as evidenced by any time the two of you are presented with an opportunity to show off your collective four left feet, but the good news is that the waltz is terribly easy to learn. 

“Everyone’s watching us,” you whisper as he dances you around the ballroom. This first dance thing is ridiculous, and it’s making you more nervous than you were when you were about to get married to him. 

“They better be,” Seokjin says. “We practiced in our living room for this.”

“I feel like I’ve stepped onto your feet twice already,” you tell him. 

“Three times, actually.”

“Wait, really? I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Seokjin says with a laugh. “You’re so nervous that it doesn’t feel like anything at all.”

“I’m no good at dancing.”

“You said you were no good at love, either, and look where we are,” Seokjin retorts. 

“That’s different, I had help with that,” you defend yourself. Is Seokjin really comparing the weeks-long journey it took you to realize you were in love with your best friend to the fact that you haven’t mastered a stupid ballroom dance?

“And? Who says you can’t have help with this?”

With a flourish, Seokjin spins you around the room, making you gasp as all of the guests cheer at your apparent display of waltz mastery, before pulling you back into him. You don’t have time to chide him before he twirls you once more, then dips you low as the song comes to an end.

“What was that for?” You ask, giving him a lighthearted shove. 

“I was helping you,” Seokjin explains. “Because loving someone is like dancing. You follow each other’s leads, and you trust each other. You just need someone to show you how.”

“You’re an idiot,” you tell him, even if you don’t feel like fighting the smile that’s growing on your face. 

“An idiot who loves you,” Seokjin says, commemorating the end of your first dance as a married couple with a kiss. 

Loving someone is like dancing. You put full faith in each other and tune the rest of the world out. Let the music play in your hearts and guide you along, down a path decorated with flowers and smelling sweetly of your future. You may not know where next to place your feet, or what notes will be played, but you need not worry. So long as you have each other, to have and to hold, so long as you both shall live. 

↳ links are broken, but don’t forget i’m still taking commissions!

[jamielea81]

Just a Simple Lie

Chapter 10

Description: Having worked on small independent films for the better part of a decade, your friend tells you about an opening for a script supervisor with a large studio. Wanting to advance your career, you apply and get an interview. The only downside, they prefer to hire crew who are married. It’s just a simple lie, right?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, minor angst, FLUFF!!

A/N: This is NOT the final chapter. There is one more after this one that we’ll call a mini chapter or epilogue. Per the usual: this fic is simply for fun and I mean no disrespect to any of the actors mentioned in the fic. I am also totally guessing regarding the studio talk. Comments, reblogs, and likes are always welcome.

Word Count: 4,167

Catch up with Chapter 9

***

Avoidance really wasn’t the word that you would use to describe what you were doing with Chris. You just didn’t know your place in his life and every day was getting harder to define that line. He was hot and cold with you. So, you kept your head down, figuratively of course, and tried to maintain that friendship line that he had put in place a couple of months ago.

After that night you agreed to work on his film, he came back to the bar during your next shift and hung out with you until close. He crashed your lunch date with Scott a few days later, showing up with a smile on his face and Scott lagging behind with eyebrows raised. But after that, you didn’t hear from him until a month before filming was to begin. It was a brief call to let you know you would receive your contract via carrier and that your flight would be arranged shortly. Filming would last two months but he wanted you to stick around an additional month when editing began because per Chris, he wanted your input. This project was his baby. His exact words were “I need you here.” How could you say no?

You were staying with Chris which is what made the avoidance or non-avoidance, whatever you were doing, hard to actually accomplish. You were fine with staying at the hotel the non-local crew were staying in, but Chris refused. He got very alpha with you on that topic and you had to admit, it turned you on a bit. But you couldn’t go there because Chris didn’t see you that way anymore.

The hot and cold thing was hard to describe. He’d casually throw his arm around you when the two of you were going over scenes, whether other people were around or not. He’d pull you into conversations with the AD and cinematographer to get your opinion, often keeping hold of your hand. The next day he’d be in a mood and barely speak to you, let alone glance your way. The cast would often look to you to be the go between because they knew he was in a mood. You knew it was stress. It had to be, but it doesn’t mean it didn’t confuse you. On those days you’d grab a bite to eat at a restaurant to give him space, often returning to your room in his house at night without as much as a hello.

Friendships are hard. That’s the bottom line.

***

“Adam! Reset! Jesus!” Chris yelled causing you to visibly wince. “Y/N!”

“I’m on it. I’m on it,” you mumbled mostly to yourself walking briskly towards Adam Scott who was getting touched up by makeup.

“He’s in a mood,” Adam sighed.

“It’s been a long week.” Why you were making excuses for Chris was beyond you. That’s all you been doing lately. “I think he wants a little more…” You gestured wildly with your hands. “Gusto. Yeah, gusto.”

Adam raised and eyebrow to you. “Gusto?”

“You know what I mean. He wants a big reaction, so give it to him. I thought the take was fine, but I’m not directing. Let’s give him that additional option.

Adam gave you a hint of a smile and nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Maybe I can do it better.”

“You’re the best,” you said over your shoulder as you walked back to Chris who chugging down a cup of coffee and going over notes.

“All good?”

“Yep. We’re ready whenever you are.” You plopped your butt in Chris’ chair since he preferred to stand during takes.

The scene ran again without interruption and the next scene was called for setup meaning you had about fifteen to twenty minutes.

Getting up from the canvas chair, you made your way to the coffee station in the far corner of the sound stage. The small liquid cream containers were missing from their designated bowl again which made your eyes roll. Someone was hogging them; you just didn’t know who.

“Shoot.”

Craft Services was an option, but you didn’t feel like making the trek across the lot. You picked up the powdered cream and mixed it into the paper cup. Powder is always a last resort. It never mixed properly and you could always taste it. But you were desperate for your caffeine fix.

“Liquid all gone?” Chris asked, stepping up beside you, grabbing his own fresh cup.

“Yes. Again!”

“I’ve got some in my trailer,” he offered.

“That’s not any closer than Craft Service, so you’re not helping,” you said dryly.

Chris chuckled lightly, turning to lean against the table as you mixed your cup with a flimsy plastic straw. “Glad to be done with that scene.”

“I’m glad you were happy with the last take,” you replied, turning around to lean next to him.

“Once Scott quits flirting, he does pretty good work.”

You choked on your coffee causing Chris to chuckle again. “Flirting with who?”

“You.”

“Adam is not flirting with me!” you shouted. “He’s married and has kids,” you said much softer, trying to control the level of your voice. “His wife was here last week. She asked me to join her book club for goodness sake.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he said, bringing the cup slowly to his lips, but keeping his eyes on you.

“You’re ridiculous,” you added with a head shake.

Yes, you fangirled when you met Adam for the first time. Parks and Recreation was one of your favorite shows. Still is.

“Adam is not a cheater and neither am I.”

“Maybe so, but you’re a liar.” Chris challenged.

Tears instantly welled in your eyes. You thought he was over it or at the very least accepted your apology. You bit your tongue, trying to find the right words and willing yourself not to cry at his remark.

“You’re lucky we’re at work, otherwise I’d tell you to go fuck yourself,” you said harshly before walking away.

Fuck him.

“Fahck. Y/N! Wait!” Chris called after you, quickly catching up.

You stopped abruptly, swinging around to face him. The action caught Chris off guard as you heard him suck in a breath as his eyebrows shot up.

“Not now,” you warned before turning back to where the next scene was being set up. “Are we all set?” you asked to no one in particular. It wasn’t your job to ask, but you needed the distraction and you weren’t in the mood to talk to Chris.

A couple of non-committal hums and murmured words were spoken. You kept your eyes on your script, scribbling nonsense among the various notes you had already written. Chris’ eyes were on you. You could feel them. But now was not the time to dive into what was going on between the two of you.

***

Immediately after the scene, you tucked your script in your armpit and pulled your phone out of your back pocket, hightailing it to your office.

Y/N: Can I stay with you tonight?

Chris wasn’t behind you, which was a good thing. You snuck out of there when you saw that he was stuck in a conversation with one of the producers. Making it to your office in record time, you shut the door and finally took a breath. Today was a day that you really appreciated having a door. Chris made sure that you had one, after you mentioned only having a desk on the last shoot. It really needed a lock though.

Darn lockless door.

Scott: I’m not staying with Jen. I’m at my mother’s.

You were desperate.

Y/N: Would she mind if you had a guest??

Two seconds later, your phone rang.

“Hi Scott.”

“Hi Y/N. Whaaaaaat’s going on?” Scott asked with amusement in his voice.

You blew out a breath, plopping yourself down on the small loveseat next to your desk. “He’s still mad at me.”

“Who’s mad at you?”

“Your brother. Who else?” Hearing the annoyance in your voice, you followed that up with a quiet, ‘sorry’.

“Oh boy. Well, I’m staying at Ma’s and don’t you think that would be an awkward conversation to have with her as to why you want to stay at her place?”

“Yeah,” you said softly.

“How do you know he’s still mad at you?” Scott asked.

“Well, besides the fact that he called me a liar this afternoon, he’s been hot and cold with me. He’s been real pissy at the crew as well.”

“You two.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, getting a little defensive.

“It means you really need to work your shit out.”

“Yeah, I know…But I don’t wanna.” Scott chuckled at your comment. “Could you come over? I could use a friend right now. I know he’s your brother, but if he’s just going to be moody, I don’t even want to go home.”

“He is my brother, but even I’m inclined to think he’s jerk now and again.” That made you smile. “I’ll stop by. Even pick up some pizza.”

“Thank you, my favorite Evans.”

“Appreciate the flattery sweetheart. See you later.”

“Bye, Scott.”

Taking a deep breath and closing your eyes, you let yourself sink into the sofa. Avoiding Chris forever was not an option, but at least with Scott there, you’d be able to keep your emotions under control for the night. The buzz of your phone brought your mind out of the fog like haze.

Chris: Are you heading home?

Home. Now that was a funny thing. When Chris wasn’t pushing you away, it did feel like home. But it wasn’t your home. Not really. You are a guest and Chris is your host.

Y/N: Yeah. Getting ready to take off for the day.

You chewed on your bottom lip waiting for his reply. You really hoped he wasn’t planning on stopping by your office before you left.

Your cell buzzed again indicating another text was received.

Chris: I have a few things to finish up here, then I’ll be home.

Deciding not to reply, you grabbed your bag, stuffed your script and laptop into it, and left the studio.

***

You cleaned up your room a bit, even though it wasn’t particularly dirty. The bed was made and besides a few pieces of clothing that didn’t make it into the hamper, it was mostly clean. Dodger was fed and you had let him outside when you first made it back to Chris’ house. Scott would be at the door any minute and you really hoped he’d beat Chris home. Why? Because apparently you were twelve years old again. You were one step away from locking yourself in your bedroom with angsty music from the nineties playing on full blast.

The doorbell rang and along with it, your body relaxed. Jogging to the door, you threw it open to let Scott in, who came armed with two cardboard pizza boxes.

“Hey sweets!”

You grabbed the boxes from his hands, bringing them both into the kitchen so that Scott could step out of his shoes.

“Thanks for dinner, bunches,” you replied.

“No problem.”

“Two though?” you asked, while grabbing a couple of plates from the cupboard.

Scott walked into the kitchen, giving you a hug from behind. “Even the jerk has to eat.”

“I suppose your right. I’m not sure when he’s going to be home. I’ll turn the oven on low and stick a few pieces on a cookie sheet to keep them warm.”

“So domestic!” Scott teased.

“Shut it bunches.”

Scott gasped out a laugh. “Are we throwing darts at Chris’ old head shots. I know where he hides them if that’s part of the plan.”

You turned around and threw your arms around him in a fit of giggles. “I’m so glad we’re friends.”

“Yeah, me too sweets,” Scott mumbled into your hair.

***

Scott had insisted on watching Spice World since you had never seen it, but you mentioned watching the Sandy Duncan version of Peter Pan when you were a kid and Scott couldn’t get it out of his head now. So, that’s what the two of you decided to watch. After a quick search YouTube, you found it and watched it through the Roku on the large flat screen in the living room. Sandy was flying around the Darlings’ bedroom when the front door opened.

“Hey. Didn’t know you were coming over tonight,” Chris said, presumably to Scott.

“Yeah, sweets and I are hanging out. Your welcome to join us,” Scott replied.

You kicked his foot with your own. Scott scowled at you and you shrugged your shoulders in return.

“There’s a…there’s pizza in the oven for you,” you said keep your eyes on the screen.

“Thanks,” Chris replied, flicking the back of Scott’s ear as he walked by.

“You can’t avoid him. And this is house, of course I’m going to offer that he joins us.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled, eyes going back to the TV.

Chris walked back in the room a few minutes later, sitting in the arm chair that was angled toward the side of the couch you were sitting on. He kicked up his feet on the cushion your body was half laying half sitting on. Turning your head to look at him, he bounced his eyebrows at you before turning his head to the TV.

“Sandy Duncan? God, I used to love this.”

Scott shushed Chris and you smiled.

***

The video ended and you stood up to stretch, Scott following suit. Chris disappeared into the kitchen, presumably to grab another bottle of beer.

“Welp! I’m out of here,” Scott announced, walking to the door to slip his shoes back on.

“What?” you whispered yelled, following after him.

“You two need to talk. And I mean really talk. None of this, I forgive you bullshit, let’s be friends. You know it. He knows it. We all fucking know it.”

You stood there with your mouth agape letting his statement sink in.

“Night Chris!” Scott yelled with the door already open.

Chris jogged back into the room, two beers in his hand. “You taking off already?”

“Yeah, I’m beat. Talk to you both tomorrow,” he said, stepping out and closing the door.

You stood there starring at the closed door, clearly not sure what you were supposed to do in that moment. Turning around and facing away from a closed door was a good option. Deciding you’d been standing there a second too long, you turned around to see Chris looking at you with beers still in hand. A small smile tugged on your lips.

“Beer?” He offered taking a step closer to you.

Taking the last few steps to meet him, you took the bottle he offered from his hand, fingers grazing his. “Thanks. I’m probably going to head to my room for the night.”

“Wait. Please? Could we…talk for a minute?”

Bringing the bottle to your lips, you took a long pull before lowering it and nodding. The two of you turned back to the couch Scott and you had occupied moments before. You sat on opposite ends, but both turned to face one another. You finding comfort in your bottle which you drank from again, before noticing it was half gone.

Chris licked his lips, finger tapping audibly on the bottle. “I didn’t mean it. What I said earlier today when I called you a liar. I don’t truly believe that. I was being an asshole. I’m an asshole sometimes. I know that about myself.”

His honesty surprised you. You didn’t know how to answer, so you simply nodded.

“This movie is stressing me out. When it’s your movie, it’s a lot of pressure. I want to put out a good film, it needs to be good. So, all this pressure puts me on edge. Everyone’s doing a good job and doing what they should be doing, but I have these moments where it doesn’t feel right. It’s not perfect. If it’s not perfect I have to take the fall. Who’s going to fund a film with a shitty director who puts out a shitty product?”

“It’s not shitty, Chris. The play backs I’ve seen have been amazing.”

“It’s in my head though. I don’t think I’ll stop being stressed until it’s released to be honest.”

“I get it, but…”

“But that’s not the only thing,” he interrupted. “It’s us too. You.”

“Me?” you asked, eyebrows creasing.

“I’m honestly and completely not upset about the engagement thing. It was something you had to do for a job and I’m over it.” He runs a hand through his hair. “But we went right back as if nothing happened.”

“If you’re over it and you’ve forgiven me, why can’t we move on?” you asked honestly.

“I don’t want to move on as if nothing happened.” Chris closed his eyes, mouth opening as he pulled in a big breath. “That night where you told me the truth, I told you my truth as well. I’m crazy about you Y/N and it seems like we’ve forgotten all about that. And you kissed me! How can we act like none of that happened? That none of that mattered?”

“Figured you didn’t feel that way anymore,” you mumbled before clearing your throat. “That the lie was too big and the secret was too big that you didn’t see me like that. Like someone you could care about. More than a friend.”

Chris set his bottle on the coffee table and scooted closer to you on the couch. He grabbed the bottle from your hand, placing it beside his. He took both of your hands in his, playing with the ring on your right hand with his thumb.

“Not possible.”

The words were so simple yet so deep that you felt your heart banging wildly against your ribcage.

“I still want you. Want us,” you whispered.

Chris’ lips curved up into a hesitant opened mouth smile. He brought your hands to his mouth, kissing each one, before lowering them back down between you. “That’s all I want.”

You lifted yourself to your knees, leaning in closer to him, but wanting him to decide what happens next. You kissed him the first time, it was his turn to make the move.

It didn’t take him long to decide as he let go of one of your hands, bringing it to the back of your neck and pulling you down to his lips. They were as soft as you remembered. His kissed you tenderly, with no rush, as if the two of you had all night. You pulled back slightly and gave him a smile.

“That was nice,” you said softly.

“I’m not done.”

Chris pulled your mouth back to his, kissing you gently until you felt his tongue skim along your seam. You opened immediately, allowing him entrance. He rolled his tongue along yours as you trailed your hand up his chest, along his neck, and into his hair.

The two of you made out for what felt like hours. You straddled his lap and eventually he positioned you both so that you were laying on the couch. It was kept mostly PG13 with kisses, whispered words, and a lot of cuddling. It was nice. Better than nice and you knew this wouldn’t be the end of it.

***

Chris: Can you come to my trailer? We need to go over scene 28.

Scene 28 was code for ‘I want to kiss you’. The two of you had been sneaking around on set for a week. You still hadn’t gone further than second base which was fine by you since you wanted to take this slow. Plus, you were working together. Working together and starting up a relationship could be complicated. Filming would be wrapped in a couple of weeks, and you had already committed to staying an additional month for the start of editing.

Your relationship with Chris right now was in this tight fairytale bubble that you didn’t want to pop. There was no talk of the future. Not even talk about how you’d spend the holidays. Whether it was Chris or if it was all you, either way, you wanted to stay in this bubble.

You quickly grabbed your script along with a pen and made the quick walk from the studio offices to Chris’ trailer. The sneaking around was thrilling. It was your own private secret that only you and Chris shared. No one was following you, but you couldn’t help but glance behind you every few seconds.

You reached Chris’ trailer, knocking twice on the closed door. Chris opened it wide, looking around to see if anyone was watching the two of you. They weren’t.

“Hey! You wanted to go over that scene?” you asked too loudly.

“Ye-yeah. Come on in Y/N.”

They two of you were so good at this game.

You stepped in, shutting and locking the door behind you. Chris grabbed your script and pen before you had a chance to set them down. With his free hand, he grabbed your elbow and brought you to him, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered against your lips.

You gave him a chaste kiss. “I just saw you this morning.”

He kissed you again. “Yeah, that was hours ago.”

You laughed, wrapping both arms around his neck as Chris started walking the two of you backwards to the bedroom, his mouth never leaving yours. Your calves hit the end of the bed, so you lowered your bottom to the soft mattress. Chris lowered himself over you and dragged the two of you up the bed until your head hit the pillows.

“Can’t wait until we don’t have to hide this. Us,” he said against your ear, mouth leaving wet kisses along the length of your neck.

“Me too. This is fun though,” you moaned when his tongue traced the shell of your ear.

“It is. But I want to take you out and not have people whispering about us,” he said, causing you to giggle. “What?” His face pulled back to look at your own.

“Well, you are Chris Evans. They’re going to stare and whisper about you no matter what.”

“Shut it,” Chris replied, kissing your nose.

***

“Are you ready babe?” Chris called from the hallway outside your room.

“Just about,” you called back finishing your hair in the mirror attached to the closet door.

Grabbing your lip balm from the dresser, you stock it in the pocket of your jeans and joined Chris in the living room.

“Wow. You look great,” Chris drawled out.

You looked down at your dark jeans, boots, and burgundy sweater. “This?”

Chris wrapped you in his arms. “Just beautiful.”

You kissed his perfect pout. “You’re too kind Mr. Evans. Now, let’s go. I’m hungry.”

Chris interlaced your fingers and pulled you to the door.

Dinner was at Chris’ mother’s house tonight. It wasn’t the first time; in fact, it was the fifth time not including brunch one Sunday since you came to town. You had met the whole Evans clan minus his father and you truly liked them all. You missed your family back home in the Midwest, so being around a close bunch such as the Evans made you happy.

“Ma! We’re here!” Chris yelled as the two of you walked into her home.

“You don’t need me to make yourselves comfortable,” Lisa said, peeking her head outside the kitchen.

“Hi Lisa,” you said with a wave, Chris still holding your other hand.

“Hi sweetie. Dinner should be ready in five. You know where the drinks are.”

“Sure do.”

You pulled Chris in the kitchen with you, not that you needed him to accompany you, but he wouldn’t let go of your hand. Chris released your hand when you gave him a look. You needed both your hands to grab glasses from the upper cupboard after all.

Digging into the fridge, you pulled out a pitcher of lemonade no doubt made by Lisa that afternoon. You poured two glasses and put the pitcher back in the refrigerator before handing Chris his glass, only for him to set it on the counter. He took your free hand in his once again.

“Ma,” he said, Lisa turning from the stove to look at him. “I’d like you to meet Y/N.”

Lisa chuckled as did you. Her face one of confusion. “Christopher, are you feeling alright?”

“I’m feeling wonderful ma.”

Lisa stood in front of the two of you. “Then why are you introducing me to Y/N who I already know?”

“Well,” Chris started, coy smile on his face. “I’d like to introduce you to Y/N, my girlfriend.”

A surprised smile sprung up on your face as you squeezed Chris’ hand tightly.

“Oh! This is quite the development. When did this start?” she asked pointing between the two of you.

“A little more than two weeks ago,” he replied, throwing arm around your shoulder.

“Well, then I say, it’s about time,” Lisa replied, giving you a wink and turning back to the stove. “But how’s this going to work when Y/N goes back home to California?”

That was a question the two you in your fairytale bubble hadn’t yet discussed, but would need to.

***

Tag List: @tanelle83 @pinknerdpanda @allaboutthebooz @estillion14 @panicfob @patzammit @xoxabs88xox @heartislubbingdubbing @twittytelly​ @linki-locks11 @ab-baybay @impalaimages @jesseswartzwelder @rainbowkisses31 @xostephanie @smoothdogsgirl @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @xxloki81xx @thenormreedus @firstangeldragonranch @soitmightgetweird @maeleeme @denisemarieangelina @rvgrsbrns @icanfeelastormbrewing @velvetwonderbucky @kitkat1690 @smilexcaptainx @dangerouslovefanfic @dwights-new-plague @kelbabyblue @sweetlittlegingy @dont-need-another-fandom @chrisevansforever @evansxxx @southerngracela @bitterstar88 @squirrelnotsam @kitkatd7 @marvelislove10 @the-doctors-fallen-angel @hista-girl @cocomel0613 @also-fangirlinsweden @chrisevansfanfic @zsuzstyina @peach-acid @trynnabemultifandom @mrsshiddleston@tfandtws @heyyouwiththeassbutt @evanlys19 @cheeseburgersstuff  @evemej @whymalu @straightforwardly @deidrashouseofpain @samsgoddess @fanfictionaffair @lakamaa12 @imaginesofdreams @captnstarryeyed @the-walking-daryl​ @benedicttcumberbabe @michellemybelles-world @lorilane33 @divadinag @bellaireland1981 @illi-vanilli @the-walking-daryl @dezzylou24 @jennabenna12 @tinycertain @perplexed3001

[kirk-spock-in-the-impala]

Wanna write about Geralt thinking he’s ugly like in the books? Everybody else thinks he’s scary ugly but I want him to feel the softness of our love that says he’s a handsome lil baby boy. You don’t have to. I just love the way you write and bet you’d come up with an amazing story with his self deprecation as a theme

OMG YES I DO. the books are awesome, btw.

PROMPT FILL: GILDED LILIES (on AO3 here)

Summary: 

The world tells Geralt he’s a monster. Jaskier shows him he’s not.

CW: Geralt’s headspace; prejudice and xenophobia; deals heavily with finding oneself unattractive, so please read with care if you have issues with that.

Slightly canon divergent.

——————————

It wasn’t that Geralt wanted to be beautiful.  No, he understood that only sorcerers gained beauty along with their inhuman powers, but he wished that he could have remained unremarkable in his looks.  The distant memories of Geralt’s childhood told him he had once been perfectly average looking.  A dark haired, dark eyed boy of middling height and build.  Neither ugly nor handsome, he passed without comment wherever he had gone. 

 Among the boys at Kaer Morhen, looks were irrelevant to the training process, but even there, standing among boys ranging from Lambert’s strong, handsome features to the scarred visages of those struck by the pox in their youth, Geralt had felt neither confident nor insecure about his appearance.  He was so normal, so average, that the thought to consider his looks never cross his mind.

 The mutations changed that. 

 Not only was he one of the few boys to survive the Trial of the Grasses, but he was the only Witcher in history to receive additional mutations.  Because of that, not only did he have a Witcher’s characteristic, unnatural, cat-like eyes, but his hair had been bleached white, his teeth elongated, his features sharpened, his very bones thickened to accommodate the enhanced strength afforded by his mutated muscles.  The other Witchers had unnatural eyes that flashed in the darkness.  He was nearly as much of monster as those they hunted.

 Geralt understood the stark difference, the sheer hideousness of his appearance, the first time he left Kaer Morhen after completing his training.

 Before, where he had passed without notice, now villagers pointed, stared, and spat.  Gasps of shock, expressions of violent disgust, and whispers of “freak”, “mutant”, and “monster” dogged his steps.  On his first day, passing through the village at the base of the mountain below Kaer Morhen, he’d heard an elderly peasant woman whisper to her companion, “they’re making them uglier every year, ain’t they?  Those thrice damned mutant freaks.”

Compared to the havoc the mutations had wreaked on his body, the impact on his looks should have been insignificant.  But it still hurt.  Back then, he was young enough to still be idealistic.  To still dream of being a hero, a knight protecting the weak and vulnerable in the world. 

 But the decades that passed showed him that dreams were not for the likes of him.  The first time he saved a girl from bandits intent on stealing her virtue, he’d imagined she might be grateful.  And she had been.  Until she saw Geralt’s face.  Then, she’d screamed and thrown her shoes, rocks, dirt, whatever she could lay her hands on at him until he’d retreated. 

 Once could have been a fluke.  A terrified girl reacting to protect her life and her virtue from an unknown stranger.  But it happened again, and again, and again.  Travelers he saved on the road would chase him off once they got a look at who – at what – saved them.  Aldermen who contracted him would curl their lips and sneer when he showed up to accept the contract, giving him the barest of details before hurrying him back out of town to complete his task, the only purpose for which his existence was tolerated.  Villagers he’d saved from monsters would throw stones at him, chasing him out of town with vile words if he was lucky, and with pitchforks if he was not.

 Geralt knew from the other Witchers that prejudice was common, as was a certain lack of gratitude from those served, but none experienced the depth of vitriol that Geralt suffered.  Geralt had long since concluded that the difference was due to his appearance, his hideous, monstrous, inhuman appearance. 

 And so, he did his best to avoid human settlements.  He limited his interactions to the bare minimum required to complete his contracts.  He made sure to never raise his voice, to never show his anger.  He was unfailingly polite and soft spoken when he was forced to speak.  He kept his eyes averted and stayed in the shadows and corners of human settlements.  He entered villages only when absolutely required, and spoke to innkeepers and merchants only when his supplies were utterly exhausted.  He made sure to keep a supply of gold and precious gems on hand to compensate a healer in the rare event he couldn’t heal himself, knowing they would charge a premium for interacting with him, and even more of one if they were forced to touch him.

 After nearly a century living in the shadows because of his monstrous nature, Geralt was resigned to his lifestyle.  On occasion, in a quiet village that was more tolerant of him than most, he would take a chance and see if the tavern keeper would be willing to serve him.  Every once in a great while, they were, and he would sit in the farthest, darkest corner of the tavern to nurse his ale in silence, hood up and eyes down, trying his best to blend into the background.

 It worked well for him.  He’d get to enjoy his ale and he’d yet to have a problem with the other patrons, if they noticed him at all.

 But all good things must end.

 In Posada, on a bright, sunny day before heading out to complete a contract for a “devil” (it was not a devil, but Geralt suspected it might be a sylvan), Geralt sat in his usual dark corner, enjoying a surprisingly good ale.  The bard playing for the patrons crowded around the tavern’s large windows was as skilled with his lute playing as he was terrible with his lyrical composition, but Geralt let the words pass through his ears without listening to them, content to enjoy the music alone. 

 He was shocked to his core when the bard, having completed his set to a rain of bread and jeers, not only came up to him, but sat down.  Geralt immediately stood to leave, head down to hide his face in his hood, taking his half-full tankard with him, when the bard stopped him.  “I know who you are.”

 Geralt froze.  The tavern keeper knew, of course, but exposing his identity, his presence, could potentially cause a violent reaction amongst the tavern’s other patrons, who doubtless would want to clear him out of their space as soon as possible.

 “You’re Geralt of Rivia.”  The bard said, clearly pleased with his identification skills, and, fortunately, quietly.

 Geralt leveled a quelling glare at him before he could stop himself.  His face fully lit by the sunlight coming through the windows when he raised his head to do so.  He took a quick glance around the tavern, seeing they’d not been noticed yet, and stalked out the door, leaving his ale behind, his rare moment of peace shattered.  Luckily, he always paid in advance in case he needed to make a quick exit, so the tavern keeper let him go without comment. 

 Walking swiftly to Roach, he checked her tack before unhitching her from the post, leading her out to the road.  As he moved to mount, he heard light, quick steps behind him. 

 “Wait!”  The bard called out, lute banging on his back as he hastily stuffed bread into his shoulder bag, “I’m coming with you!”

 Geralt took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm, to remain soft, inoffensive.  “No, you’re not.”  He said, mounting Roach and turning his head away from the bard.

 “Yeah, no, I totally am.  Meeting you is the most exciting thing that's ever happened to me, and I’m not going to let this chance pass by!”  The bard said brightly, moving to stand at Geralt’s left stirrup. 

 Geralt heaved a sigh, looking down at the young man, and he was a young man, unsure whether he should be annoyed or pleased at his persistence in keeping Geralt’s company.

 The bard looked up, meeting his gaze fully for the first time.  “Wow, yeah, you’re gorgeous.” He said, staring up at Geralt with an expression Geralt didn’t recognize.  Gorgeous? Geralt didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t. 

 He kicked Roach on, setting her off at a quiet walk toward the village gate.  Wouldn’t do to move any faster, no matter how much he wanted to leave this odd bard behind.  Faster meant more attention.  Faster was dangerous.

 The bard kept up, walking more swiftly in his fancy shoes than he had any right to, chattering away about anything and everything, from his latest doublet, to some character named Valdo Marx, to how pleasing Geralt’s hair was when the sun hit it just so.

 After a long hour of walking, followed closely by the young bard, Geralt arrived at the hill close to the site of the reported “devil”.  He stopped and dismounted Roach, securing her safely to a tree branch with ample room to graze. 

 The bard trotted right up next to him.  “So, where to next?  I’m Jaskier, by the way.”  He said, thrusting out a hand to shake.

 Geralt just looked at it.  No one had ever wanted to shake his hand before, but he wouldn’t play into whatever this bard – Jaskier – had planned by going off script. 

 He just moved on with his hunt, heading out to look for clues on his quarry’s location and identity, tossing a gruff, “stay with the horse” over his shoulder at the bard.  If he couldn’t get the bard to leave him, at least he could try and keep him safe.

 Jaskier didn’t listen.  Not then, not after they eventually escaped from Filavandrel, and not for the next several months he followed Geralt all about the Continent, sharing camp sites, meals, and the occasional room at an inn.  With Jaskier’s presence, one in every dozen innkeepers or so was willing to lend Geralt a room, with the understanding he was under the supervision and control of his human keeper.  When he was alone, asking for a room was a useless exercise.  Geralt wasn’t sure if Jaskier understood that or not, but he wouldn’t risk losing access to more frequent hot baths and comfortable beds by pointing it out. 

 The oddest thing about Jaskier though was not his persistence in following Geralt, but his persistence in complimenting him.  It was always “your hair is so soft” or “gods, your eyes are to die for” or “you’re so attractive, it’s not fair.”  More than that, more than those incomprehensible words, was the fact that Jaskier touched him.  Freely and often.  A pat on the shoulder, gentle hands combing through his hair while he bathed, a warm body leaning against his by the campfire.  People didn’t touch him.  Didn’t like to look at him.  And yet, Jaskier did.  Geralt didn’t understand it. 

 He knew he was monstrous; he knew he wasn’t fit for human companionship, and yet, Jaskier was seemingly unaware of that obvious fact.  At first, Geralt had thought the compliments and the touching were all a great, cruel joke to Jaskier, but months of exposure showed him that Jaskier was as genuine as he was foolhardy, and he held nothing back when he felt Geralt did something that deserve censure.  If Jaskier complimented him or touched him, it was because he wanted to, and that was beyond Geralt’s comprehension.

 Geralt’s confusion, his frustration with Jaskier not following the script, all came to head when they were preparing to attend a fancy banquet, hosted by one of Jaskier’s friends from Oxenfurt, which Jaskier had convinced Geralt to attend as his companion.  “I can’t just show up alone, Geralt!”  Jaskier had said.  “Besides, I can’t resist a chance to show off my lovely muse.”

 As Geralt bathed, scraping drowner blood out of his white hair, Jaskier flitted about the room, laying out finery for Geralt to wear, commenting how nice everything would look on him and how jealous his friends would be when they saw him on the arm of such a gorgeous companion

 Geralt couldn’t take it anymore.  “Stop it!” He growled, turning a frustrated glare on Jaskier.  “Stop saying things like that!”

 Jaskier froze.  He must have seen something in Geralt’s expression, because he immediately dropped the ribbon he was inspecting, one of his many choices to use on Geralt’s hair, and knelt at the side of the tub by Geralt’s left side. 

 He reached for Geralt’s cheek and Geralt flinched away, hiding his face behind a curtain of wet hair.  Tension thrummed through his frame and his posture was abjectly miserable, fists clenched around the edges of the bath, knuckles white.

 Jaskier frowned, uncertain where this upset was coming from, but knowing how reserved Geralt was, he knew the cause was substantial to create this strong a reaction in his normally stoic friend. 

 He reached out again and gently turned Geralt to face him.  Geralt flinched, but didn’t pull away. 

 Geralt’s eyes remained firmly down, brows drawn together, shame flooding him.  He’d shouted at Jaskier, growled at him like an animal, all over the little, innocuous lies Jaskier liked to tell himself about Geralt’s appearance.  If he was lucky, Jaskier would simply leave.  If he was unlucky, he’d be getting a visit from the guards.

 “Geralt?”  Jaskier prompted, concern clear in his voice.  “Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

 Geralt’s jaw clenched, daring a glance up at Jaskier before averting his eyes again.  “Forgive me.  I shouldn’t have shouted at you.”  This time he did pull away.

 “No, you shouldn’t have, but I’m more concerned with why.  Have I upset you?  Hurt you?  Please, tell me.”  Jaskier waited, watching as Geralt’s eyes darted about, jaw clenching and unclenching.

 Geralt didn’t know what to say.  This wasn’t how things were supposed to be.  He had a role, a script, and Jaskier just came in and flipped the papers out of his hands, setting his own, improvised pattern instead.  Geralt didn’t know what to do.  What to think.  He just knew it hurt that Jaskier kept giving him glimpses of his childhood dream, a dream he knew was forever out of reach.

 But he had already behaved unforgivably, so he might as well get some information about Jaskier’s incomprehensible actions before he inevitably left.  Could serve him well in the future if he ever met anyone else willing to tolerate him for more than a few moments.

 Geralt drew in a breath and went for it, heart racing in his chest.  “Stop saying things that aren’t true.  I don’t understand why you do that.”  He spoke to the bathwater, unable to look at Jaskier.

 “Whatever do you mean?”  Jaskier asked, anxious to ease the pain he saw on his dear friend’s face.

 “You call me ‘gorgeous’, you compliment my hair, my looks.” Geralt shook his head, bewilderment evident in his tone.  “I know it’s not true, so why do you keep saying it?”  Geralt finally looked up, searching Jaskier’s expression, face lined with pained confusion.

 Jaskier’s heart clenched in his chest, aching for his friend, for the decades of suffering that simple ask revealed.

 He placed a hand gently over Geralt’s where it was clenched around the edge of the wooden tub, meeting Geralt’s eyes calmly.  Geralt’s hand jumped beneath his, but did not pull away.

 “Because it is true.  You’re one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met.  And one of the most noble, to keep fighting to protect people who will never appreciate all that you do and all that you sacrifice.”  Jaskier said, firmly and kindly.

 Geralt shook his head sharply, looking away.  He knew what he was.

 Jaskier leaned forward to keep Geralt’s face in sight, thumb rubbing gently over Geralt’s clenched fist.  “What do you think you look like?”  He asked.

 Geralt scoffed.  “Like a monster.”  He stated it like the indisputable fact he knew it to be.

 Jaskier closed his eyes briefly, devastated to hear confirmed what he always suspected.  Geralt had no idea of his own worth, his own beauty, having internalized for far too long the fear and hatred dumped on him by villagers unable to accept that something could be different and still be worthy.

 Jaskier squeezed Geralt’s fist, reaching out with his other hand to turn Geralt’s face to his again.  Holding his chin gently so he could not look away, Jaskier said firmly, “there is nothing monstrous about you.”  Geralt huffed in disbelief, trying to avert his eyes, but Jaskier held him in place.  “Your mutations made you unique, gave you the ability to do your job, to protect all of us from the real monsters.  Your hair, your eyes, hell, even your teeth, they show the sacrifices you’ve made to protect our Continent.  From a purely aesthetic perspective, you are stunning.  But as a person, you are beyond compare.”

 Geralt stared, unable to respond, unsure of what to say in the face of Jaskier’s firm belief that he was worthy, that he was not monstrous to behold.  When he was young, he knew he was unremarkable.  After his mutations, he knew he was a monster.  Yet, Jaskier seemed equally sure that Geralt was neither of those things. 

 Jaskier saw the conflict in his friend’s face.  He knew that one conversation would not change a lifetime of conviction.  He gently leaned his forehead against Geralt’s, closing his eyes.  “One day, you’ll believe me, and until then, I’ll remind you every day that you are worthy, that you are gorgeous, and that you mean the world to me.”

 Jaskier pulled back, keeping his eyes locked with Geralt’s.  Geralt saw nothing but calm assurance in Jaskier’s eyes.  No matter how remarkable, how unprecedented his words, Jaskier believed them to his core. 

 Geralt didn’t believe them.  He had nearly a century of evidence to the contrary.  But if this one remarkable man believed him worthy, believed him beautiful, then at least in Jaskier’s world, Geralt didn’t have to be a monster.

[thedeaditeslayer]

Crash Palace Interview: Catching Up with Dana DeLorenzo.

This interview briefly brushes over Ash vs Evil Dead and Dana’s latest projects.

Even though it has been over two years since Ash vs Evil Dead has been on the air, fans still clamor for their favorite badass, Deadite slaying heroine, Kelly Maxwell. Dana DeLorenzo, the actress behind her is equally adored and cherished by admirers of the Sam Raimi legendary horror franchise.  

So, as always, I was thrilled to speak with her about life after Ash, her latest movie, the heartwarming holiday comedy, Friendsgiving and what she has on the horizon. Welcome to the Crash Palace Interview with Dana DeLorenzo…  

The Denouement of Ash vs Evil Dead Crash Palace: Thanks for speaking with me, Dana. It’s always a pleasure. Let’s talk about life after Ash vs Evil Dead. As you know, Lee Cronin is helming the latest installment in the Evil Dead franchise, Evil Dead Rise. Fans were hoping that the Ghostbeaters would be a part of that venture. While we know it is going in a different direction, do you think Kelly Maxwell could show up some time in the future?  

Dana DeLorenzo: One can dream, right? Let me take this moment, right off the bat to say something I say often because I mean it, and I can’t say it enough. People who know me know this is not fan service. I say it when I’m not doing interviews; I say it to my closest friends and my family on the regular.

I am so grateful to the fans of Ash vs Evil Dead and the Evil Dead franchise all over the world. They have truly been my Jiminy Crickets throughout this insane, bizarre year that is 2020. They have gotten me through so many of the toughest days, just by keeping the bloody love alive. With every year that passes, even though we haven’t filmed a season of the show for three years, it feels like it’s fresh because of the fans .

So, to all you Ghostbeaters out there: I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I hope I get to meet all of you someday. But I can’t convey enough how your passion and love of the show has gotten me through this 2020 roller coaster; thank you for keeping Kelly’s ass-kicking spirit alive! On that note, I have really missed the show, I’ve missed playing Kelly. I posted some things recently about Ash vs Evil Dead, photos I hadn’t looked at in a while. I miss it a lot. I like to keep hope alive that someday, somewhere, the Ghostbeaters will be reunited. Even just for a quick Ghostbeaters fist bump.

Is Kelly Maxwell going to show up in this film? No. I won’t say never, but from what I understand, this is an alternate universe for Evil Dead Rise, separate from Fede Alvarez’s movie with Jane Levy and it’s separate from Ash vs Evil Dead. It’s a new adventure in the Evil Dead universe. And I can’t wait to see the new blood and guts journey Lee Cronin takes us on. I would like to think in the Ghostbeaters’ universe, we’re still kicking it and we’re still fighting evil. But I am loving that the fans are clamoring for it! They can keep pestering Rob, Sam and Bruce the way they have for twenty-five years before Ash vs Evil Dead came to be — their persistence is what got me that dream job.

So, if they want to continue to pester to bring us all back, I won’t stop them! Because we know the fans have the power to persuade. It might take another twenty-five years. But I am always down to play with those guys and our great crew.  

CP: Do you keep in touch with anyone from the show?

DD: Yeah, I try and keep up with what everyone is doing and shoot them a message to tell them I miss them like the sap that I am. I just miss seeing their faces every day, you know?  I miss Lucy’s face pretty hard, and not just because she’s ‘Lucy Flawless’! She’s got new shows left and right, she never stops! Ray and I randomly text Pablo and Kelly’s catchphrases to each other. “How are you holding up? / What is happening?!” We said that pretty much every episode so it still makes me laugh. Arielle and I chat often even though she lives in Australia, she’s like my little sister! Bruce often responds “ in character” with the latest Snapchat filter. He loves those — just check his Twitter feed — and it’s all my fault. I showed him how to make them while filming Season 3. He could probably do a show solely with Snapchat characters — I’d watch.  

Fall from Perpetual Grace

CP: Let’s shift gears for a moment and talk about another series that you appeared on. You had a great run on EPIX with Perpetual Grace, LTD working with the talented Jimmi Simpson, Luis Guzman and of course, Jacki Weaver and Sir Ben Kingsley. There was some talk about a possible movie to tie up all the storylines after the show ended. Do you know if that is in the works?

DD: I have no idea, but I really hope that happens. Steven Conrad is a genius and so was that cast. If you haven’t seen or become a part of the cult following of Patriot on Amazon or Perpetual Grace, you should. But the people he casts and the stories he writes and the beauty of the cinematography, all  create a piece of art that is in its own category. He has such a strong point of view, aesthetic and vision, you always know when you’re watching a Steven Conrad show.

I’ve been very lucky to be part of two shows where both casts were like extended family. Like Luis Guzman. We  talked recently, I adore him. Side bar: I feel like in a crazy, crossover world, Luis could be Pablo’s other uncle because of his giant heart and comedic delivery. Anyway, we’re both working on my friend Joe Ahern’s indie comedy, The Disappearance of Toby Blackwood, which he co-wrote with Doug Mellard. And I can’t wait for people to see Luis slay the screen, yet again. The filming process is pretty innovative during COVID, where everyone but the two main characters filmed their parts at home using an app. These guys were doing it before anyone else, so kudos to them.  

Friendsgiving: The Gift that Keeps on Giving

CP: I had the pleasure of watching Friendsgiving the other night and it was an enjoyable holiday film. You had some hilarious bits as Kat Dennings’ wise cracking sister, Barbara. What drew you to the project?

DD: Thank you for watching the film and I’m so glad you enjoyed it! It’s the kind of original comedy we all need right now.

I knew I was auditioning for Kat Dennings’ (Abby)  sister Barbara, whose part of Abby’s Jersey-Italian family. Within the first two lines of that family exchange, I was cackling. I’m drawn to anything that grabs my attention on the page and holds it for the entire sitting of reading the script. Those lines of dialogue, the way the family members are unapologetically who they are, and the fact they mean well but are constantly giving you their two cents when you don’t want it or ask for it, hooked me. And that kind of art-imitating-life comedy held up for the rest of the script for me. Nicol Paone hit it out of the park, both on the page and behind the lens. And I’m pretty sure it’s loosely based on a Thanksgiving that Nicol and Malin Ackerman shared.

The subject matter was also relatable. I’ve celebrated Thanksgiving with my family as well as a couple of Friendsgivings. And the bottom line is, the holiday is just dysfunctional, always. It might be a lot more fun with your friends but it’s still going to be dysfunctional.

That concept makes me laugh. It’s not funny when you’re the one going through the stress and drama of Thanksgiving. However, it’s very funny watching someone else go through it. It’s cathartic. That’s why I loved it.  

CP: With so many talented actors in the cast, do you have any behind the scenes anecdotes?

DD: There was a lot of laughing in between takes. It’s always a good sign when the crew laughs. Abby’s (Kat Dennings ) Jersey-Italian family was cast perfectly, and the actors were so damn funny! Rose Abdoo plays our mom, Nadya Ginsburg as Aunt Anna and Johnny Williams plays Uncle Sal. Like I said, it was already funny on the page, and Nicol being a New Jersey Italian herself really captured the essence of those family conversations. The actors brought Nicol’s words to life, and on a few takes she let us riff.  In one scene the Aunt Anna character was telling the scripted story of a sexual gesture; I remember laughing so hard at her adlibbing additional euphemisms for that particular act by referencing Italian food.

One of my favorite things Nicol did was add some of the funniest ad-libs and bloopers in the end credits. I love seeing those! Now everyone who sees the film will get to see those behind the scenes moments.  

The Show Must Go On

CP: When we were coordinating this interview, you told me that you were going into the studio to do voiceover work. Can you give us a hint about this upcoming effort?

DD: The show features a cast of familiar faces that might have worked together recently. I just realized what everyone is probably going to think when they read this.  

CP: Sorry everyone, it isn’t Ash vs Evil Dead. However, you have more work on the way. According to IMDb, you have completed a short film called PCH. What else can your fans look forward to?

DD: The Disappearance of Toby Blackwood which I mentioned before but we’re still filming that. I am so excited about this voiceover project because it’s completely original in every way, it really hasn’t been done before. And of course, Friendsgiving is out now in select theatres and VOD. It’s the perfect film to watch this Thanksgiving when we can’t celebrate as we usually do. You can laugh at the characters’ holiday drama and maybe even be grateful to take this year off.  

CP: Will you be appearing at any virtual conventions like Bruce and Ted are doing for Wizard World events?

DD: There are a couple in the works. But in the meantime, I’ve teamed up with this new platform called, Real Talk Live, which is both an app and on the web. It’s like a virtual convention where you can live video chat one on one, basically like a Zoom call. You can schedule the video call in advance or whenever catch me whenever I’m live. I think it’s a great solution, and personally I’m really looking forward to connecting with Evil Dead fans this way until live events pick back up. And it’s accessible worldwide so this will be great to finally see the amazing fans I hear from overseas. I miss interacting with them in the flesh, hearing their stories and seeing their badass cosplays! And do I miss pose-punching them in our epic photos. So I end with this, because I can’t say this enough: “Thank you, Ghostbeaters! I love you more than Ash Williams loves his Delta!”  

Many thanks to Dana DeLorenzo for spending time with me at Crash Palace. For those of you that haven’t had the chance to catch Friendsgiving, it is available online by buying or renting it as a video-on-demand on iTunes, FandangoNow and VUDU.

[elenatria]

OKAY BUT FOR FUCKS SAKE WE NEED ALL THE DETAILS OF WHERE, WHEN AND HOW YOU MET THE GOD!!!!!!!!!!!

I still haven’t processed everything, not because I’m starstruck that I saw Stellan for 3,5 seconds but because it was a miracle that it even happened. So this is not a “Stellan made me feel like a queen for five minutes” story (there was no time for that), it’s a “setting an impossible goal and achieving it” type of story. 

 @alyeen1 and I were discussing Stellan attending the Gothenburg festival back in January, and I was lamenting the fact that, despite learning about it three weeks in advance, the beginning of the new year had left me broke. I was totally regretting not having the money for that trip and Alyeen1 and I were comforting each other, making “what if” scenarios for the veeeery distant future, like “hey, don’t you guys have the Berlinale...? What if Stellan attended the festival for one of his new films...? Just an idea.”

Not long after that, Google alerts notified me on “Hope”, Stellan’s new film, having its European premiere there. Talking of getting my wish granted right away, I mean I had talked to talk, now I had to walk the walk, right? I’ve never taken such a big decision on such short notice - super scary, super urgent.

“Soooooo is Stellan coming?” was the obvious question. There was no way for us to know. We started spamming the Berlinale people with emails until someone pointed at the right direction, the film’s PR agent who said that the cast would be attending the premiere. Then @stellan-pip-69 suggested I should ask Andrea Bræin Hovig herself, Stellan’s co-star in “Hope”. Andrea is a total sweetheart, she answered right away and said that they would indeed be there. I mean, I couldn’t possibly be taking two days off work, spending four days and 500 euro on a whim no matter how much I love Berlin. 

However, we had no further info on where exactly Stellan would be. What we did know according to the Berlinale site was the time and place of “Hope”’s press conference and premiere. Thank god for Alyeen, the Valoris fandom’s resident Berliner, who had bought tickets for “Hope”s screening at the box office.

One day before the screening we were making plans and thinking of routes and timetables, and also we gained some experience from Hildur Guðnadóttir’s talk (who is an absolute darling as you can tell from her vids and acceptance speeches). 

See, after Hildur’s event we waited for her in the cold rain for about an hour and realized it’s not enough to be there early enough or to know which exit the celeb will use, or to run fast enough to get to them first: we also had to deal with autograph hunters who were bigger, stronger than us, outnumbering us, pushing us aside to get dozens of autographs signed by Hildur. They were pushy and persistent and had control over the situation, over what Hildur signed and for whom. Giving me permission to get  that selfie with her. It was almost nightmarish. 

After that, and as we dragged our feet back to the subway soaking wet, we were dwelling in despair and uncertainty. There was no way we could fight off guys who were doing this for a living. And what if Stellan had HUNDREDS of fans screaming his name? What if Stellan lost his patience with all those autographs he had to sign, like Hildur lost hers?

However, I got a glimpse of hope while waiting for the metro when I thought... “You know what? We’ve come so far. We’re doing everything right. We even rehearsed our moves, elbowing people and stomping on toes and screaming Stellan’s name as loud as we can to get his attention. We’re even willing to camp outside the fucking press conference hotel. We can’t possibly fail.”

But for all our meticulous planning, I was responsible for an almost-failure because of my delay the following morning. Remember what Stellan said? Never be late. Never ever. 

So, although my goal was to be at the press conference almost an hour and a half before, we got there only an hour before. That almost cost us everything.

Alyeen knows her way around Berlin and she knew the hotel had various entrances and exits, not just one. Lo and behold, as we approached it from the side, we noticed the road was closed and alongside the pavement there were bars draped with red and yellow Berlinale banners, with small groups of people hanging from them like ripe fruit. As we kept walking, I noticed a spot close to the hotel’s exit where it was getting a bit more crowded, so I peered across the street to see which celeb had attracted their attention and--

-- f-uuuck.

When you see Stellan Skarsgard’s head for the first time in your life hovering over a bunch of fans who are shoving things to sign in his face , there’s only one thing to do.

RUN, MOTHERFUCKER.

That’s all I could whisper to Alyeen1 in utter panic. 

“--run. Run! Ruuuuuuuuuuun.”

I’ve never left a friend behind so quickly.

So we ran like hell. 

We got behind the crowd and I tried to pull my cellphone out but it was too late, Stellan was already thanking the fans and disappearing into the building. If only I wasn’t late that morning!

Years of stress and running and being late have taught me to take a deep breath, give myself a second chance and try to find peace in the eye of the tornado, so I pulled out of the bag a piece of cardboard Alyeen had given me to draw “Hope”s poster with a sharpie. That would calm me down a bit and the wait wouldn’t be so unbearable. Besides we were front row and there was no one between us and the hotel exit, although we still didn’t know which side of the corridor Stellan would pick first, left or right?..

So here’s my reasoning behind the drawing: the previous evening I had wasted my sleep trying to figure out how Tom Hiddleston’s fans were able to stalk him in filming locations (you see, Tom has a wide network of fans reporting on his every move, Stellan doesn’t). Also I wanted to see how his fans got front row on the red carpet and how they got his attention, how they made him do things like kneel for them. I noticed that in order to do that you had to 1) be a flashy cosplayer who catches the eye 2) nag Tom persistently with a voice that’s higher than your usual tone until Tom indulges you. It has to work, right? Like a baby crying for food.

But I’m no cosplayer, I’m an artist, so the idea was to hang a big-ass drawing of mine in front of the barrier to get the attention.

Turns out... I didn’t even need it.

After waiting for about an hour and a half and worrying that Stellan had already left through another exit,  after watching the door open and close half a dozen times and seeing busy celebrities rushing off without signing a single autograph, we were on the brink of despair. 

Until the door opened one more time and 

Stellan was there.

I don’t remember what we did or what we said,  all I remember is that we called his name and dammit, that did get his attention. So we were the first he approached. Fuck.

As soon as he heard us calling him he gave us a broad welcoming smile and was ready for the selfies -  but guess what! I had forgotten to turn off the fucking timer, so Stellan moved on before the pic was taken.

God no. Not now. 

As he was taking a pic with Alyeen I begged him to come back for another try. He said he was too busy and had other fans waiting for him, there were too many of us, but I begged for like 2-3 seconds (a lesson I learned from that Loki cosplayer) so he came back and indulged me one more time.  X__X

After that I was dead inside, not only because I had to beg (I don’t do begging) but also because I had to be a burden to Stellan Skarsgard himself. Like, give me what  I want but please kill me afterwards, okay?

So yeah. Dead inside.

This is why I couldn’t relish the triumph right away, and to Alyeen’s enthusiastic “We did it, we DID IT!!!” my response was a numb “... Did we...?” >__>; 

Inevitably, I had my stress attack after I got what I wanted. Also, I was just realizing that my stupid ancient phone couldn’t use the data I paid for before flying to Berlin so I had to desperately look for free wi fi and post the selfie before... someone stole my cellphone or something. 

For all the mishaps, we got to the red carpet so early that there were very few people waiting before us. Lucky for us 1) this is Berlin, not L.A., where people flock from all over the U.S. to take selfies with celebs they don’t even care for 2) this is Berlin, in February, so it was freezing cold and not many people were willing to freeze their asses off at the red carpet 3) this is Berlin, and crazy screaming fans are scarce. Unless you’re Johnny Depp but thank god Stellan is not Johnny Depp.

Andrea was the first to walk the red carpet and I was really bewildered by the fact that no one was screaming her name. So I called her. And she came! I thanked her for answering my PM and asked for a selfie (I must admit I take better selfies with women than with men). 

She was so sweet with me that I actually gave myself time to think and pull the cardboard sketch out of my bag to show her. I was like, whatever, you have it there, just show her.

She was so excited that she pulled out her phone and took a pic of my sketch. *___*   Crazy, right? I went to Berlin to find a king and found a queen instead.

The rest was like playing out a script. A couple of minutes later, Stellan came out of the car and started signing autographs and taking pictures so I had my second chance at a better selfie. Phew.

So nice of him, so so nice of him.

And oh, look at us lol.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Stellan Skarsgård Fan Acc (@stellanskarsgarddd) on Feb 24, 2020 at 11:32am PST

After the red carpet we could finally breathe. To my surprise, we even had access to the photo call itself in the Zoo Palast lobby.

Stellan was being playful with the photographers, knowing it was his job to pose but also being “whatever” about it, having done it a million times. He gave them one last pose going “Hey hey heyyyy!” and disappeared behind the blue panel until we saw all of them again after the end credits.

The only thing I kinda regret is the fact that Megan was right there, right there, a few meters away from me as her husband was being photographed, but I didn’t dare ask for a selfie because the seats weren’t numbered and we had to rush into the theatre to find a good place. Damn. 

Until next time, I guess. Because there will be a next time, dear comrades. And hopefully Alyeen1 and I won’t be alone. 

[kittae]

Bottoms Up

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x reader

Side characters: Min Yoongi, Jey

Summary: A drabble series where Taehyung is a successful artistic erotica actor but has to expand his areas of expertise in the rapidly evolving world of adult film. Lost and inexperienced in everything that doesn’t involve classy settings, flattering lighting and romantic scripts, he basically has to start from scratch to make it in the online porn community. As a highly demanded A-lister in that community, you take him under your wings (or better yet, between your legs).

Genre: Smut, fluff, a bit of comedy here and there. Maybe some angst, who knows.

words: 1368

Disclaimer: Slight alcohol intoxication, dialogue-heavy, foul language, both of them had too much to drink and are being annoying lmao

« previous — next »

“I trusted you! You’ve betrayed my trust!” Taehyung wails, dramatically flinging himself against the wall of Yoongi’s living room.

“Stop acting, you’re going to drain yourself.” Yoongi murmurs as he pours himself another drink. “Besides, why are you being like this in the first place? The shoot went better than expected, you should be celebrating with me instead of fake crying.”

“I’m not fake crying.”

“Yes, you are and you know what else you are?” Yoongi takes a sip of his whiskey, “Killing my buzz.”

Taehyung merely pouts, knowing his crocodile tears aren’t going to coax sympathy out of the slightly tipsy older man. “You should’ve discussed this with me in advance.”

“You know, I totally would’ve if you hadn’t been such a stubborn baby about the whole ordeal from the beginning. I could barely get you to agree to the shoot, heavens know how you would have reacted if I told you about the seminars.”

“You know what?” Taehyung scoffs, heated, “I’m sorry if I inconvenienced you by showing my true feelings towards your off-putting suggestions.”

Yoongi snorts, rolling his eyes and taking a rather large gulp from his glass.

“But I am who I am and I thought you supported me! You’re making plans behind my back instead.” Taehyung presses on, crossing his arms in displeasure. He didn’t come here with the intention of making a fuss considering everything went shockingly well today, yet he needs to make sure that Yoongi knows how he feels about the secretive way he handled things.

“If I don’t make plans behind your back sometimes, we’re not gonna get anywhere,” Yoongi calmly explains, gesturing with the crystal glass in his hand, “You only got to expand your boundaries today because I arranged it like that and that’s what being partners is all about.”

“No,” Taehyung slowly counters, “Being partners is about trust and honesty, which is the opposite of what you did today.”

“Noooo, I really don’t feel like arguing right now,” Yoongi groans as he slouches further into his padded couch, “Can’t we just hold hands and call it a day?”

Taehyung squeezes his eyes to slits, “Don’t try to bribe me into forgiving you, hyung.”

“Why not? You do it all the time.” The manager grumbles, reaching for the bottle to prevent his glass from getting empty.

After fiddling with the buttons of his silk, albeit questionably patterned shirt, Taehyung sighs and collects himself. He then goes over to Yoongi’s liquor cabinet to fetch a glass identical to that of his manager.

“What are you doing?” Yoongi asks, an amused look on his face.

Tae shrugs as he flops down next to his friend and plucks the bottle right out of his hand. “Getting a drink.”

“You hate alcohol.”

“Correct,” Taehyung responds matter-of-factly, “I just like the aesthetic of swirling scotch around in a crystal glass while I ponder over what you could do to get my trust back.”

Yoongi scoffs. “How about not kicking you out of my apartment? Sounds good?” He raises his brows, briefly letting the amber liquor tickle his tongue, savoring the slight burn when it hits his throat. “You’re here more than at your own place. You’re lucky I’m not charging you for rent and unwanted sleepovers.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Taehyung gasps.

“You are the only one allowed in my apartment and even you will lose your apartment privileges if you won’t quit it.” Yoongi warns seriously. “And those include storm cuddles and hurricane hangouts.”

Taehyung look absolutely horrified and gulps hard before taking a big swig of the whiskey in pure misery. Needless to say he instantly regrets it, the liquid too sharp and the vile taste of alcohol burning through his throat. He coughs dramatically as if he’d just drank poison, with Yoongi already on his way to the kitchen to get him a diet coke to wash it down –although not without an eyeroll or two.

“I swear you’re worse than a baby sometimes.” He sighs as he opens the can for his teary-eyed younger friend who reaches for the soda as if it’s his only lifeline. “Bet seeing you like this would burst more than a few bubbles of the women who love your films.”

Taehyung says nothing, too busy chugging the coke ad fundum. Only when any trace of the whiskey taste is gone, can he relax. And he does, with a big, content smile on his face.

“Love you, hyung. You know that, right?” He coos, nestling his head on the older man’s shoulder, who responds with a barely suppressed sound of disgust.

“Fuck’s sake Taehyung, did you get drunk from that one sip already?” Yoongi frets, exasperated.

“Sometimes... people w-won’t never adjust to changes.” Tae offers a vague explanation, followed by a hiccup as he makes himself cozy against his manager’s side to take a nap.

Yoongi gives up, sighing, simply patting the younger’s head and accepting his punishment. “Alright buddy.”

“–and then he just flipped a switch or something! Woah, you should’ve seen it, it was really incredible.” You conclude before you wash down the spicy food with some more beer.

“Yeah, it must’ve been...Seeing how it’s the only thing you could talk about for the past hour,” Jey chuckles, reaching for another snack. The dining tent is crowded this evening, lots of noise and ruckus of other drunk customers filling your ears while you talk.

“Ah, sorry… Do I talk about it too much?” You grimace.

“Nah, you’re fine,” she waves away your concern with a laugh, “It sounds like it was a whole experience. I’ve never seen him like that either so it is kind of fascinating to me to hear this.”

You gasp, snapping your fingers when you recall something. “Right! You once told me you sometimes work for him!”

She frowns. “Told you twice… Actually, Yoongi called me today asking for my help but I was booked.”

“Is he usually shy like that? When you fluff him? No, wait, not shy– Uh, you know, super careful?”

Jey full out laughs at your rambling now, “Honestly, I’ve never seen you so invested in one of your projects before.”

You pout at that, “Don’t call him that.”

“Oh my god, ___, are you in love with him or something? You’re creeping me out.” She pulls a face before cupping your hot cheeks with her palms. “Oh, nevermind. You’re just super drunk.”

Shrugging, you shake off her hands like a child, only to replace them with your own when you rest your chin in them, elbows on the wonky, iron table as you lean over to her, smiling wide. “I still haven’t seen his dick,” You whisper-shout and Jey snorts at your drunken obliviousness. “Tell me about it.”

“Alright, sweetie, you’re making it weird,” she flicks your forehead and you whine, “It wouldn’t be very professional of me if I told you, hmm? Besides, didn’t you binge his films last week? I think you have a good enough idea of what his dick looks like.”

“But I’m so frustrated!” Your whining gets louder and more heated as you put up your index finger and practically shove it in Jey’s face, “I just wanted to feel it once, Jey. Just once.”

“Time for some water I think,” Jey raises her eyebrows and calls the owner of the tent for a bottle, “I don’t get what you’re getting worked up about. He’s going to be taking your classes, right? You’ll have plenty of chances to suck his dick later so stop crying about it, jeez.”

You clap your hands and giggle, the alcohol really starting to get in your head, “That’s true! I can still suck his dick then!”

“Shhh!” A hand instantly comes to cover your mouth before you can say more. “You don’t have to shout! What’s wrong with you?!”

“Mmmight be getting a little bit tipsy,” you helpfully suggest as if she hasn’t been trying to sober you up since you started talking about Taehyung’s dick.

“No shit, really? After only six beers?” She jeers sarcastically while forcing the bottle of water against your lips, sighing in relief when you allow it and start swallowing. “Let’s get you home, messy girl.”

Heliotrope masterlist

[anasuisprisonwife]

awkward first time with narancia?? 🙏👀

I may or may not have asked my followers 2 send me this request ;) thank u once again, lovely anon for hearing my prayers…In these hc’s, reader and narancia are both virgins, and you’re in the back of a van.Take me back 2 my high school days in the library parking lot…

***I have to include this disclaimer*** because if you’re an adult, plz don’t have car sex on public property. I’m from a small town, and that’s how i got away with it from my strict parents in high school. If you’re a kid, getting caught by the cops is a slap on the wrist and a phone call to your parents. If you’re an adult, you end up on the sex offenders registry…But I firmly believe that in fiction, you’re allowed to indulge in any form of fantasy. Your own personal fantasies don’t affect/hurt anybody. Sometimes it’s the perfect outlet for acts that should not take place in the real world. Such as this one…

PS happy 18th birthday 2 naranciaOrange Boi is now an Orange Man

I can’t think of anything that rhymes with NSFW:

It started with one kiss, but you and Narancia have clearly taken a liking towards one another. When given the short window of opportunity, it seems both of you can never get enough affection. Some sloppy lip action and light touching were the most you’ve had the opportunity to enjoy, with the rest of the gang constantly coming from around the corner.

Several times, you’ve been caught by other members, who will usually shoo you away like misbehaved animals. One lucky evening, the two of you were instructed to pick up a parcel before the packing facility’s scheduled closing time. It was a short-lasting task, but before driving back, Narancia pulls over behind an empty building.

He reaches into his pocket and reveals a square aluminum wrapper in the palm of his hand with an eager smile. It takes you a moment to realize what it is. Narancia clears his throat and proudly announces that Bruno gave it to him.

It doesn’t take long for your lips to crash, just as they have many times before. This time, the two of you crawl into the back of the van where there’s a decent amount of floor space. Narancia’s mouth begins to move around yours with a different motive. His motions are slower, and he guides you onto your back. 

At first, he ends the kiss and begins to pull his top over his head. With yearning eyes, Narancia hesitantly undresses your top-half. He drops a couple awkward kisses onto your neck as your clothes are peeled from your bodies by one another. Narancia’s hands move everywhere. He can’t decide what he wants to enjoy first.

Once you’re both bearing everything to each other, Narancia squeezes himself below from the strain that your naked body is causing him. As soon as you decide to wrap your hand around him for the first time, a thankful sigh escapes his throat, and he clasps your lips into his while your fingers explore this unfamiliar zone. This is by far, the sloppiest kiss you’ve ever received from Narancia.

He presses a hand to your chest and indiscreetly moves it towards your own privates. At this point, Narancia’s lips are motionless, as his mind is too occupied trying to process everything that his fingers feel.

When Narancia decides that he wants to advance, he looks you straight in the eyes and talks dirty, although it sounds scripted and unnatural, like he’s reciting a cheap porno.

He scrambles towards the front seats where he left the condom and tears open the packet with no mercy. It’s noticeable that he’s never put one on before, but somehow manages to roll it down to his base.

He arranges himself over you in the missionary position, and Narancia initially struggles to get himself inside of you. You guide his length to the correct position, and the two of you finally come together as one. Narancia loses any composure he may have had, as he’s only able to produce guttural noises while his mouth hangs open.

As soon as he’s adjusted to his sensations, he thrusts his hips at anything but a rhythmic pace. His movements are certainly quick, but they’re inexperienced. A couple times, he slips out by mistake and has to put himself back inside of you again.

He attempts to arrange you into a few different positions that he’s more than excited to try, but it doesn’t take very long for him to reach his limits.

Even with an attempt to avoid his climax, his motions come to a halt. Narancia decides to moan directly into your mouth as you feel him twitch aggressively against your muscles. He basks in the feeling of being inside you for a few moments longer and then sprawls on the floor to catch his breath.

On the drive back, Narancia can’t stop talking about how much he loved it. So much, that you have to remind him to refrain from the subject once you both make it home.

[lifeascaty]

Omg I can't believe you wrote a feature in 3 days! Do you typically write fast? Also, any tips for writing fast? I have a draft due next week but with everything going on, I've been procrastinating and slower than usual. Ty.

I typically write fast! I’m very lucky but this also means I can be very lazy, because I know I can spend time procrastinating and still write pages I am happy with. Also, once you write fast once you know you can do it again, so you just need that first time to blast you through (at least in my experience). I had a professor who I thought hated me (she didn’t) with very high standards, and I had to rewrite 50 pages in one day/night. And I did. And she liked the pages! After that, knowing I had to write 30 pages a day for the feature didn’t seem so bad. 

It’s totally okay to not be a fast writer, but if you want to speed up, hopefully this helps:

1. Don’t be afraid to suck. Sometimes I have to write bad pages to figure out the good pages. Sometimes I start writing and know the first two pages are gonna be bad. That’s fine. I get into my groove after those two pages, write the stuff I need to, then go back and fix or delete those two bad pages. I’d rather have bad pages to fix than an empty page with nothing on it because I was so afraid of getting it wrong. 

2. Don’t be afraid to suck publicly. I was in multiple classes where students would end up not bringing pages to class (or not bringing many pages to class because they’d been writing too slowly) all because they had been so paralysed by the fear of sucking in front of others. And then they fell behind and their work didn’t grow and advance. It’s okay to have sucky pages. It’s okay to suck in front of others. Especially in a writing group or workshop environment. You want notes so you can grow as a writer. You want notes so you can get perspectives other than your own. Once the fear of being bad in front of others went, I was freed to write faster because I wasn’t scared of making the wrong decision. 

3. Have a great beat sheet. I once wrote a 50-60 page pilot in a day. And it was a really good pilot. It was one of the two scripts to get me a manager and I placed Top 5 at AFF with it. But that’s because I’d spent a LOT of time on the beat sheet. Beat sheets are indispensable to me when writing pilots (but for some reason I hate them when writing features). I can get notes on the beat sheet and fix problems early, work out pacing etc. And then when it’s time to write the pilot, it’s literally just making the beats larger. Just filling them in with more detail. I already have the road map for my pilot, and now I just need to flesh them out. I can write pilots quickly when I want to because of the time I’ve spent working out my beats, and then I can just let everything flow. So if you’re not someone who spends time on beat sheets then maybe experiment with them!

4. Sit your butt down and fucking do it. I can be quite mean with myself if I’m struggling. You wanna pee? Tough, write another two pages. You need to eat? Shower? Check your emails? Sure, but first you have to meet your page target. Sometimes I need to use the stick instead of the carrot to achieve my goals. It’s a “stop making excuses and fucking do it” mentality that I only use when I’m really crunched for time, but it works for me. 

5. If I’m stuck, why am I stuck? If I’m struggling to write, it’s usually because there’s a problem earlier on in the script. I take a moment and think about it, work out where I start to feel uneasy and my writing slows. Usually, it’s because something’s not working but I can only see that further down the line. That’s fine. I either go back and fix the problem then and there, or I write on as if I’ve already fixed that problem, and then go back and fix it later. 

But basically: don’t be afraid to suck and have a good road map. That’s how it works for me. And remember that it’s okay to be a slower writer. Everyone works at their own speed and still produces good work. But, if you’re in a crunch with a draft due this week, just free yourself from all anxieties and let the words fall as they may. And then fix them in the extra time you now have from your increased writing speed!

(Please feel free to ask me questions if you’re quarantining and bored! Happy to chat!)

[okay-j-hannah]

My Life is a Mess Without You

Smosh : Prompt

Damien x Reader

Word Count: 1968

Warnings: Just the most classic Damien Haas fic scenario... but I made it ENTIRELY in his point of view

Request: “20 with Damien Haas” - @caswinchester2000

Prompt:

20. “You are the least subtle person I know. Your ‘I have a secret’ vibe is literally visible from the moon.”

A/N: Damien just didn’t get it - what could he have done that would make you ignore him for so long?

Damien sighed, moving his eyes from the TV to the phone in his hand, his fingers hovering over the keyboard.

He was completely disheveled – his hair unkempt and the blue streaks fading. He had reverted to only wearing old sweatshirts and faded jeans, his glasses worn more frequently as the task to order more contact lenses seemed daunting compared to other problems.

His house was incredibly untidy with plates stacked by the sink, movies and games littering the living room floor, and piles of miscellaneous garbage speckled every surface. 

Even his cats had noticed the decline in activity as Damien remained more sedentary, normally retreating to the couch upon return from work.

The Smosh Family helped with what they could, also noticing (Y/N)’s avoidance. Damien could hardly manage to keep up with filming and script reads when all his focus was residing on her.

(Y/N) wasn’t talking to him. And it was wrecking him.

Pushing his glasses back in place, he scrolled through his unanswered text messages, a pain in his chest. It had been weeks since their last sincere conversation, a moment he had replayed in his mind over and over.

It sat at the forefront of his mind as if it was yesterday. Something was definitely wrong with (Y/N), that much he was sure of.

With their daily carpool to work together, she didn’t say a single word that day. She normally was running on slight caffeine adrenaline or singing at the top of her lungs to the morning radio.

Today? Absolutely nothing.

She just stared out the window, her arms folded very tightly across her chest. It was apparent that she hadn’t been getting her caffeine; her eyes were dark and heavy from the possible lack of sleep.

Damien even attempted at a conversation, “No new ‘Ian did this’ or ‘Monica said that’ this morning?” He had a smile on his lips even if concern was consuming his gaze, flickering from the road to her turned head.

She vaguely muttered a dull response, “Haven’t seen them. Been very busy.”

“You’ve been busy? Is that why you look so tired?”

Something clicked in her brain and she finally faced him, “Hm? Oh, my coffee maker sparked a few days ago – haven’t been able to get my morning fix.” She attempted at a makeshift smile, but Damien saw right through it.

Why in Heaven’s Above would she try to hide something from him? He hated it when she felt like she had to hide from him.

As soon as they parked in the Smosh Office lot, Damien turned to give his full attention to one of his best friends.

“What’s wrong?”

She seemed taken aback, “Nothing.” She tried the handle of the door, finding it continuously locked.

“Something is obviously wrong, and I don’t think you should bottle it up.” He was leaning towards her, almost hovering over the seat compartment between them.

“I told you, I’m busy and stressed and tired,” she sneaked a half-way smile, shrugging her shoulders. “I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

Damien raised a suspicious eyebrow, “What kind of stuff?”

She seemed strained between answering and jumping out of the vehicle, “Sh-Shouldn’t we get inside? We still have work today, you know?”

He sighed at the humor she was forcing through her teeth, “You’re worrying me, (Y/N).”

“And I’m telling you there’s no reason to be.” She met his gaze but swallowed hard. Was that a blush creeping onto her face?

“And I’m telling you that I know you better than you think. And I know that something is bothering you! You can trust me – I’m your friend.”

Her gaze immediately dropped from his face at that statement. Her hands were starting to fidget in her lap, “Well… there – there might be something.”

Damien bit the inside of his cheek, anticipation consuming his worrying thoughts, “I told you I knew it.”

She let a small laugh escape, “How do you always know?”

“You are the least subtle person I know. Your ‘I have a secret’ vibe is literally visible from the moon.”

“I – I might… there’s th-this boy. And I can’t s-stop thinking about him.”

He tried to have a relaxed reaction, his focus on her continuously fidgeting hands, “A guy? You have a crush on a guy? Do I know this guy?”

She resisted a smile, “Maybe. He’s a friend.”

“Hm.” He wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about this. Something pushed him to make a retort, that she didn’t need to like another boy because she already had one right there, “Is he a good guy?”

She nodded a little more enthusiastically than he liked, “He’s very sweet and very kind. He’s always a gentleman and always does whatever he can to make me smile.”

Damien found himself holding his breath, “Do you hang with him often? Like does he consider you guys friends?”

“Oh, yes,” she sighed, keeping her gaze away from Damien’s. “I see him every once in a while and we always have so much fun. We surprisingly have a lot in common – we both like filming, we both like reading and playing games, we even have similar views on less partying and more movie nights.”

“Sounds like a great guy,” Damien gave a close-lipped smile, he had to decide between this strange feeling of jealousy and his fierce friendship with (Y/N). “You should definitely go for it – I mean, if that’s what your dilemma is. If you can’t stop thinking about him maybe you should make your move.”

He chose to be her friend first.

“I don’t know,” she bit her bottom lip, “I don’t think it’d work out – I don’t think he sees me like that. I guess I make a better friend than anything else.”

Damien scoffed, catching his genuine reaction to her words. This caused her to whip her eyes to him, confused.

“What are you talking about? Any guy would be lucky to have you! The only reason he would ever turn you down is because he’s too blind to see the perfect package right in front of him. And if that ends up being true, then good riddance because you deserve someone who thinks about you just as much as you’re thinking about him.”

Damien found his hands flailing around slightly as his smooth conversation turned a little heated; but the expression on (Y/N)’s face softened him again.

“You really think that?”

He found her wide eyes staring at him with desperate confirmation, “Why would I ever think otherwise?”

But very quickly he realized that there was still something incredibly wrong. Ever since that conversation (Y/N) had made it a special mission of hers to completely dodge every advance Damien made.

Their usual friendly greeting with the crew? She was excusing herself for the bathroom.

The walk Damien made to see how her directing was going? Matt Raub said she asked to help with editing.

The spot he always saved for her in the meeting room? Neglected as she sat far from him.

Their frequent lunch breaks together? She was nowhere to be found.

The hours they spent recording Smosh Games? She ignored his smile, plastering on an expressionless face.

The special treat he got her to cheer her up? She found him coming towards her office, so she skidded off in the opposite direction.

It was a pattern that continued throughout the entire week, something Damien was fed up with. What could he have possibly done to drive one of his best friends away?

Now as he sat on the couch sulking and dismissively scratching behind Zelda’s ears, he kept his mind trained on (Y/N).

First a confession about a boy. Days of consistent avoidance. And now it was like she hadn’t ever existed.

Damien never realized how big of a part she played in his life, staring at these past text messages with more and more regret:

III AT&T LTE 5:58 PM 23% 🔋

Mon, Aug 5, 11:26 AM

“You felt like editing today?”

1:40 PM

“Hey, are you feeling okay?”

“Is it about that guy? 😉”

 Tue, Aug 6, 10:14 AM

“Has your coffee maker been fixed yet?”

3:52 PM

“I was thinking we could hangout this weekend, you down? 😊”

6:51 PM

3 Missed Calls

“Are you ignoring me?”

 Fri, Aug 9, 11:38 PM

“No, seriously, (Y/N). Are you ignoring me?”

“(Y/N), if Shayne and Mari put you up to a practical joke like this, it’s not funny anymore.”

12:22 PM

2 Missed Calls

“I couldn’t find you for lunch, so I left something on your desk. Your favorite. ❤”

Wed, Aug 14, 5:09 PM

“You seemed off in SG today. Did something happen?”

7:44 PM

“I applaud your efforts in pranking me, but can you please talk to me?”

Sat, Aug 17, 10:31 AM

2 Missed Calls

“(Y/N), where are you?”

1 Missed Call

2:15 PM

“I bought you a little something to cheer you up – I left it by your bag. Will you please tell me what’s wrong? I miss you.”

 There was a knock at his door – something not uncommon recently. Courtney would usually bring over some Chinese take out or Wes would drop off an early release of a game Smosh received.

So Damien thought nothing of it as he reluctantly shuffled to the door, opening it carelessly.

And there was (Y/N) – wringing her hands and cautiously looking into his shocked gaze.

“Damien,” she muttered, her face blotchy and obviously raw from crying.

He didn’t even let her a second to explain before he ran over to sweep her into a bone-crushing hug. He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her easily off the ground and hiding his face into her shoulder.

“I thought… I didn’t think…”

She pulled away, heat rising to her face as she cast her eyes down, “I… I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t know what to say or how to say it. So I just ran. But I – I’m trying something here.”

“(Y/N),” he felt his tired eyes burn, his glasses askew. “What did I do? Where have you been? I feel like I haven’t seen…”

“I’m in love with you.”

She had whispered it so quietly that he was afraid his ears didn’t hear correctly, “What?”

She swallowed hard, “I am utterly and completely in love with you Damien. And I didn’t know how to tell my best friend that I wanted to be more than just that with him. So I avoided you in hopes I’d stop getting so flustered being around you, but that only made it worse. And honestly, running away sounded like a pretty good idea until about ten minutes ago when Joven gave me an awesome pep talk – and I just…”

They stood there in silence for a few seconds, (Y/N) wringing her hands and Damien’s limp at his sides.

“This might have been the most pointless mental breakdown I’ve ever hand,” Damien finally muttered, replacing his shocked expression with a slight smile. “Did I really neglect getting more contacts because of secret feelings we have for each other?”

She didn’t seem to process what he said, “You know I’ve always liked your glass… wait – did you say…?”

“I’m in love with you too, (Y/N).” He grinned, taking a few steps towards her, “Please don’t you ever try to hide something like that from me again. I thought I’d just lost the greatest thing that ever happened to me.”

She let out an unexpected giggle, wiping at her eyes, “Greatest thing that ever happened to you?” She reached out and ran her fingers through his hair, bumping his glasses into place, “But you’re looking kinda rough.”

He reached up and grabbed her hand, holding it tightly in his, “Because there were four weeks and three days where I hadn’t talked to you once.”

“I had to bunk with Mari for a week just because I couldn’t stand not coming over here every other day,” she responded, laughing.

“We’re gonna have to change that.”

~~~

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[rgr-pop]

Re: canvassing for Bernie. I guess mostly advice on being effective. I went canvassing in Va before Super Tuesday and felt pretty ineffective, we used the minivan app which just showed us dem voters which makes sense right before the election but I’m wondering if I should widen the net going forward? Idk I’d be canvassing in md and wv thanks in advance you truly are the only smart person on this site

i actually did not have the best experience today, but some of my friends did. my friend the one from flint who went on msnbc to tell chris hayes he didn't vote for hillary because he's from flint, he had a really good day and he felt really good about everything. he gave me some good points, which i will share with you in a second. the reason you didn't feel effective in VA is because everyone in VA is a CIA asset and you shouldn't internalize that. i'm thrilled that you get to talk to people in WV and I think policy and talking points are really going to be on your side, and the people are going to be cool as hell (even if they are not-already bernard voters). 

 i think bernard kinda fucked over michigan in a few ways this year (no beef but it's true), but i am lucky because my city has some extremely experienced campaign people, and i have never really had to experience doing canvassing for any kind of campaign that wasn't run by them, so i was kind of confused about how little direction you were given. they keep asking me to do higher-up stuff like drawing up the voter lists and strategizing and hosting canvasses, but i keep being like, put me on the doors dude that's where i belong. (my palestinian libra dirtbag is exactly the same, he did like three turfs today lol.) i can probably ask my campaign people for tips if you feel like you don't have any guidance. 

since we're so close to election day, we'd normally be only targeting likely/confirmed voters to get out the vote, but because things are so crazy, we're also hitting up voters identified as undecided or previously soft-opponent or i think even independent and we're actually still trying to change minds. this is not super usual but it's crisis time! so, to answer your question, i would say i think you should widen the net, especially in WV. the dem voter problem isn't a huge issue where i am because people in lansing flint and detroit are literally just always democrats no matter what, but in other states i think it's more nuanced.

most of the following advice pertains to actually talking to people, but it should cover the range of voters you may encounter. i think i feel the least effective when i "fail" to engage people in a conversation, so i recommend talking to them in more open-ended ways. i share some of our script down below, but in general i like to ask people questions to draw them in, rather than telling people what we're about. get them to talk about themselves, and they will remember bernie sanders as the candidate that listened. i swear to god that works. 

today they gave me a sheet (i gave it to a new girl so i can't remember exactly, but) that focused on swinging those voters. it's still "don't shittalk opponent" territory but it's a list of ways to explicitly contrast sanders and biden on the policies, and it made me realize that we're extremely lucky to be put in this position because those contrasts are stark, and they are convincing to poor people in particular. 

what's interesting is that i'm no longer leaning into medicare for all to do my arguing, and i think that's gonna make me more effective. obviously bernie is stronger (literally: strongest) on this issue, but the messaging around biden's work on the ACA and his recent dodging about the issue doesn't help us convince anybody. healthcare is the most important thing on the table but it remains inscrutable: i would say dig into it with voters only if they bring it up as an issue that matters to them, or if they're healthcare workers (non-doctor probably), or if you are going to talk about an experience of your own. when you do talk about healthcare, especially in WV, remember bernie's position on medical debt. this is one of his clearest contrasts with biden. make sure you're familiar with biden's history with bankruptcy and debt, because i'd be willing to bet that that's something that's gonna resonate with WV and MD voters. 

the trade deals and NAFTA are, simply, the most important thing to talk about at this point, and imo (based on the critical states, michigan most of all) that's what's going to win us this election, if we talk to people about it. hillary clinton lost the election because she did NAFTA--simple as that. biden, too, did NAFTA, but the thing about him--as i'm sure you're noticing--is that people seem to forget absolutely everything about him, and no one knows that he did NAFTA. joe biden is behind loads of policy that was outright bad for industrial workers and ruined lives. it is simply enough to argue "bernie sanders did not do NAFTA" but you'll want to look into his trade deal positions and history, contrast these with both biden and trump. if you're worried about the xenophobic underbelly of this problem, frame it as exactly what it is: a position that resists giving corporations free reign to do whatever they want, to abandon communities, and stomp all over workers. 

look over some of bernie's positions on unions and labor in general. neither of the states you are going to are strongly right-to-work states right now, but where i live that's a really important thing. both biden and bernie, interestingly, have proposed a ban on right-to-work laws (it rules that we are in a place where this was mainstream for candidates, but it remains to be seen who will actually pursue this! the literal birthplace of the UAW went right-to-work while biden was VP soooo.) bernie also wants to end at-will employment and has a slate of proposal to strengthen unions. you should tell this to almost everyone. biden claims to support many similar plans, but he has not historically been especially strong in these areas, and his plans are generally less encompassing. 

you should be prepared to confront concerns that bernie's strong environmental positions will hurt workers in WV. talk to people about a "just transition" and really emphasize the point that industry, and coal companies in particular, have been empowered to come and go as they please without any consequences. bernard's plans in general are job creators, and the idea is to bring sustainable--as in, sticking--jobs to appalachia and the rust belt, as well as universal healthcare for people made sick by their jobs. universal healthcare is an engine for jobs. 

the war in iraq, support for veterans, and social security are extremely huge issues for poor people, probably specifically in WV. 

you will also talk to another major electorate: people who just want to beat trump. this is advice from the msnbc friend, who knows: give them all the bernie beats trump lines. only bernie beats trump. convince them that biden will have all the same problems hillary clinton had against trump. if they bring up the alleged low youth turnout on super tuesday, remind them that the south has particular voter suppression issues that impact young and college voters, and that thus far young people actually have been turning out in the north and west. and the youth turnout on super tuesday was still higher than average! remind them that a democrat without the so-called youth vote has never beat a republican in the general in this century. most importantly, remind them that because of our flawed electoral system, you could win every single person on the west coast, but you're essentially never going to win the election if you can't win macomb county, michigan. and macomb county, michigan is full of working class voters who were really hurt by the policies of joe biden and hillary clinton and, increasingly, donald trump, and they are interested in bernie sanders, and it's life or death for them. tell them you have a friend in michigan who has seen this first hand :). (hoping march tenth bears this out for us lol.) 

gonna round out the hard issues section here by suggesting you read this, which i think is pretty convincing: https://newrepublic.com/article/156819/rebooting-bernie-sanders 

 today i talked to a guy who said, "bernie sanders, i think i heard obama likes him." and i said, yep, bernie worked really hard to pass some of obama's best policies. and that's true :) 

in general, the sanders campaign relies really heavily on the "bernie story," the personal narrative. i think it probably works. it really works for me, because i can talk to people about the stuff that isn't just the green new deal and loan forgiveness--although you will definitely also end up talking to educated people who will need to be reminded that bernie sanders wants to forgive their loans and joe biden wants them to be saddled with them until the end of time. remember to talk to people about where you work and where you live. work and homes is the most important thing to absolutely everyone. tell them you have a teacher friend lol. talk to people about other people you've met. tell other people's stories. 

 in case you need guidance in this area, try a script that looks something like this (sorry if this is condescending and you already have seen the scripts, but i kind of modify them based on my strengths as a canvasser): 

i'm so and so and i'm with the bernard sanders campaign and we're out reminding people to vote on [date]. 

do you plan on voting? do you know who you're voting for? can we count on you to vote for bernie? [remind people of the stakes of the election, it's gonna be a close one, talk to your friends and family.] [then get them to think about their election day plan: do you know where your polling location is? what time are you going? do you have transportation?] [try to have support info available for them if they do not have these things. if they're worrying about not being able to get off work, commiserate/be empathetic and don't blame.] [let them know how they can get involved in the campaign.] 

if they say they are not voting, sometimes you can respect that (shoutout to jehovah's witness), but if they're on your list, they're probably registered, so you can ask them what kind of issues prevent them from voting. a lot of people will tell you that voting is stupid. you should agree with them (they are right). remind them that you would not normally be canvassing for a democratic candidate or any presidential candidate. you're working with tons of people who never canvassed, or maybe never even voted before. this is the first time in my entire life that i had the opportunity to vote for a candidate that addressed the issues that weigh on me on a day to day basis. a major candidate that hates the two party system and refuses to submit to democratic party nonsense. who has a plan that might actually work. a candidate that has a plan to make everybody's life better, even people who aren't out here canvassing for him. poor people. remind them that bernie sanders is the strongest candidate among non- and first-time voters! this area is a strength of mine because all of this is 100% true for me. i hate electoral politics and i hate the democratic party! if they have other reasons for not voting, see if you have any info that can help them. also remind them that this is a close race, an uphill battle, a difficult fight, and their vote is going to REALLY make a difference. but if we try, we will win. 

if they say they "think" they know who they're voting for, they're probably thinking about someone else. you'd be surprised--i am so surprised--how many people have no idea, even up til they get to the polls, or they change their mind last minute. try to prepare a few sentences that are really personal but probably relatable that they can chew on. mine looks something like this: i'm from flint michigan and i've seen the way the government has started to let companies get away with absolutely anything, abandon families that have worked for them for generations, and weaken unions. i want fair wages, fair taxes and for companies to be accountable to their workers and the communities that make them run & make them rich, and that's the bernie sanders platform, and i fear joe biden's ideas are moving us in the same direction that we're already moving. my husband's family worked for GM for four generations but we can't get jobs in flint much less find a place to live. being from flint, and in my own working life, i've watched the power of unions just totally erode. i myself am in a teacher's union and just recently, for the first time in my life,i feel like we can move in a direction where workers have real power in their workplace. especially watching teachers and support staff rally behind sanders, or these huge strikes. sometimes here i also say something about schools! etc.! ! sometimes that's all you get, but sometimes people want to hear more! in either case, this will stick with them. 

if they say they are undecided, ask them what kind of issues motivate them to vote, or ask them what they think about sanders. refer to all of the above, but don't argue, use bernie's positions to add to what they are saying, be a good empathetic active listener etc. but also make sure they know that you have shared experiences, agree with them. 99% of the time their issues will be better addressed by bernie, if they are working class people. sometimes they will reveal that they are nervous to vote for sanders. remind them of the size and energy of the base, and the electability arguments listed above. one of the reasons we want to canvass is to remind people--especially in conservative communities, where their neighbors may not even be voting in this primary--that it's okay and in fact very popular to vote for bernie, and we're competitive, and if we make it to the general we're gonna win. but it's not going to be easy [talk to your friends and family get involved go online etc.] 

if they are leaning biden but undecided, sometimes it's fine to ask them why, ask them for a pitch. you can tell them that you agree, and that we have had a really strong contest this year, and maybe in another year biden would have been the strongest choice, but bernie's just better in all these areas, etc. 

please lmk if you want more ideas! i'll try to take a picture of some of our documents tomorrow when i'm out.