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HELENA BONHAM CARTER IN CONVERSATION WITH SIMON CALLOW | THE LONDON LIBRARY MAGAZINE | APRIL 2023 Helena Bonham Carter was joined by the writer and fellow actor Simon Callow at home this spring to discuss her new role: Library President. The two are longtime members and met filming the 1985 EM Forster adaptation A Room With a View. Bonham Carter was 19. It was the first of many Merchant Ivory productions for her, including Maurice and Howards End, before Hollywood called, with a role as the suicidal love interest in David Fincher's Fight Club. Work with her former husband, Tim Burton, came next, as well as a contribution to the Harry Potter franchise and more. Callow's acting career includes stage roles in Shakespeare, Beckett, pantomime and contemporary theatre and beloved British films such as Four Weddings and a Funeral. He is a biographer of Oscar Wilde and Orson Welles and a renowned Dickens expert. This conversation has been edited and condensed for clarity. HELENA BONHAM CARTER: Simon, it's very nice to see you here. Welcome to my Presidential home! I'm not having a clever day - do you find that, or are you always clever? SIMON CALLOW: Always. But I think I might be daunted by being the President of The London Library. Such a wonderful title, such a wonderful entity. HELENA: I love the title. The older I get, the more I like having conversations with dead people - for instance my dad, who made me a member when I was 21. For the Library to then ask me to be President... SIMON: Fantastic. HELENA : I used the Library a lot then, which was also when I first met you. I was sort of roaming and feeling lost, having a great time filming but feeling out of my depth everywhere. My peer group had gone to uni, and I was suddenly just on my own path and really unequipped to deal with it. I had a massive chip on my shoulder. So The London Library was my college. I felt legitimate, and I thought I could wander in and dress up like Virginia Woolf. SIMON: It's like going right back to the source, isn't it? There it all is, and there they were. HELENA: There they were! It's not only a conversation with my dead dad, but a conversation with EM Forster. If it was not for him, we wouldn't be here. SIMON: A Room With A View is my favourite film of all the films I've been in, and I'm still astonished by its freshness. HELENA: It still works. SIMON: It really does. It was my second film and I was incredibly relieved - I'd been in Amadeus and detested every second. When I got the script [for A Room With A View] Ismail [Merchant, the producer] said to me: "We want you to play the leading part!" So I thought, "This is great, he sees me as George. I'll go on a diet immediately." Then my agent discovered I was in fact playing the Reverend Beebe. And I thought, "No, outright no." I was terribly hurt. HELENA: And totally miscast. SIMON: Beebe's the fat old parson; I can't possibly play him. Finally I gave in to discover that suddenly I was with the aristocracy of British film and theatre: Maggie [Smith], Judi [Dench] and Fabia Drake, no less. And you. Who was completely new. HELENA: I was a foetus. SIMON: What I remember about you then was the incredible speed with which you spoke. HELENA: Oh, seriously? That's like my daughter. SIMON: You would change tack in the middle of a sentence and contradict yourself. HELENA: I don't think that's changed. I'm interested that I spoke at all. I remember myself as a mute, a total mouse, and so in awe of everyone. I was aware that you were a writer and talking about Mozart a lot, so I thought, "He's the Renaissance man that I have to become." Also, without being too indiscreet, you were one of the kinder adults. SIMON: Fabia was an absolute holy terror. What was great was to be working on a script drawn from such a wonderful novel. Ruth [Prawer Jhabvala, who adapted the original novel for the film] incomparably excelled at weaving the words from the novel into a real script, so that these were really people talking to each other. My favourite scene in any movie I've acted in is our scene at the piano. HELENA: It was the most important scene. You, as Mr Beebe, caught Lucy [Honeychurch, my character] playing in private. He's so tender and I love that. "If only you knew how to live as you play." SIMON: Beebe, certainly as written by Ruth - less so by Forster actually - is essentially benevolent. I remember the first read through, in London somewhere? HELENA: I was terrified. Maybe it was the first time I read with Maggie and Judi. SIMON: Maggie terrified me by saying, "Why are you calling him 'Beebe'? It has to be 'Bee-be'. Beebe sounds as if we're at the Beeb!" Were you always a great reader of novels? HELENA: Quite a good reader, though I was slow. I was taught at English A Level by Penelope Fitzgerald. SIMON: I knew and loved her. Was she a good teacher? HELENA: Extraordinary. Did you ever read Offshore? I love that. But I thought it would be good to look as if I read, because then every heroine in every book or film was a reader or writer. I wanted to be Judy Davis in My Brilliant Career. It was probably quite healthy, instead of fixating on a physique, which is what most people do these days because of Instagram. I wasn't very sexual for a long time. SIMON: You were wearing lots of clothes. HELENA: So many clothes. SIMON: One couldn't even begin to guess what the woman beneath would be. HELENA: No, there wasn't a body. SIMON: It was extraordinary, you were a sort of Oxfam shop on two legs. HELENA: I don't know where that came from. I think I had a real complex. Maybe because I was in such a male world. I went to Westminster [School], which was all boys, so before I even walked into period movies, I was dressed as a Victorian. It was always about pretending to be in the past. I over romanticised or felt I belonged in the past, actually. SIMON: The biggest relationships in my young life were with my grandmothers. I asked one to make me an 18th-century costume for a Christmas present. HELENA: Oh, I love that. So you dressed up as Mozart? SIMON: In effect. I loved the fabrics, the shimmer of it all. HELENA: On Maurice [1987] I did hair and makeup for all the men, which was rather a good way of dating people. It was Tinder then. In terms of influence, how important were your parents? SIMON: The only one of my family that read novels was my grandmother, though she never talked about them. A book can be just for you. You have a relationship with the characters and have somehow subsumed them into your psyche. HELENA: I always feel like you want to share the wonder. SIMON: Your family are very literary, aren't they? HELENA: Well, my grandmother Violet definitely was, on my dad's side. She was [Prime Minister H H] Asquith's daughter [and president of the Liberal Party from 1945-47]. My maternal grandmother was a special character, but found it difficult to read. I think she would have been diagnosed as dyslexic now, but she wrote beautifully. My mum, her whole life has never been without several books. My dad developed cortical blindness, which meant he couldn't see faces, but could read, so he read his way through the last 24 years of his life. We had half of The London Library in our home because they'd send him books. SIMON: Oh, fantastic. HELENA: Violet was formidable and wrote a lot of letters. I came back from filming with Woody Allen in a monastery in Taormina, and Dad was editing them. There was a postcard to her husband in 1940 saying: "Have just finished Morgan's latest Howards End." She knew Edward Morgan Forster. When I came to film Howards End with you, I read Violet's [unfinished] autobiography and thought, "Oh god, she was basically like the Helen Schlegel character, a sort of radical bohemian, a bluestocking..." And would have been the same age. So maybe she was a bit of a model for Helen. SIMON: Forster wasn't a recluse until later at King's College Cambridge, I think. HELENA: Did you ever get a sense of what he was like? SIMON: Everything in his life was the opposite of what he espoused: the passion, the connecting. This gives his work its force, because it didn't come easily to him. He had to struggle to make it happen. HELENA: He did have relationships though, didn't he? SIMON: Famously with a married policeman, Bob Buckingham. But also earlier, in Alexandria, and later, with a Bulgarian art collector, 45 years his junior. All very discreet. As a young gay man, I was impatient with him. Instead of thinking how extraordinary it was for its time, I just thought, "Come on, we've gone beyond all of this". It felt a bit spinsterly. Now I think it's passionate and unbelievably brave and exquisitely written. Then, I was more taken by DH Lawrence, which was all oceanic... My entire ambition was to be a writer. Do you write? HELENA: I've been asked to, and I've written the odd article. My attention span is troubling, but I do enjoy it when I apply myself. SIMON: I have to work very hard at it, and do terrifically long days. I can be at the laptop by seven. HELENA: In the morning? Jeez. OK, so you've got Morning Brain. SIMON: I've got a night brain, too. But no afternoon brain. HELENA: The afternoon is not really good for much. SIMON: Yes. I have difficulty in the theatre, rehearsing in the afternoon. HELENA: I have to have a snooze, no matter what. The snooze has been a pillar of my living. Do you ever write in books when you're reading them, or is that sacrilegious? SIMON: I do when I'm reviewing, but that's with proofs, so I can scrawl all over them. HELENA: I've got a thing about having a relationship with a book, so I will, unfortunately, write sentences in them. Also in the hope that somehow it's going to stick in the brain. SIMON: Let's talk about the Library - its location, for instance. St James's Square is enchanting. HELENA: Yes, and I do think that places work magic on us and influence what we think. It is very creative. Also, just silence. To go and sit with others with no danger of conversation, but you've got the company of other people concentrating. If you're going to seriously write, it could be very lonely. You have to go to battle with yourself, but it's alleviated at the Library because you're with other people who are going into battle with themselves. SIMON: Libraries generally have a very curious combination of this quietness and focus, coupled with a very sexy feeling. It's the silence. HELENA: I was going to raise that, but you start. SIMON: I wonder why that is exactly. It's just because everybody's in their own space and in their own world somehow, and you know that as you drift into that sort of semi hypnotic state, sex is going to be in there somewhere. HELENA: Yeah, it's always there. SIMON: So it's the subconscious. It's sort of milling around the Library. I think I said this before, it's like a book bordello. You just go up and take whatever you want to. HELENA: Have your pleasure. I like that. SIMON: The Library's postal service is also miraculous. And everyone's so sympathetic. Years ago, my dog acquired a passion for 17th-century literature; it turns out it was the fish glue used to bind the spines. One day I came home and there was a priceless volume in pieces all over the place. I offered to replace it somehow but the Librarian said: "I have dogs; I understand." HELENA: How do you use the Library? SIMON: Not for writing or reading. Just to borrow books. The collection of arcana is vast. Writing about Orson Welles, I needed to know what it was like to be a tourist in Morocco in 1930. The Library had six - six! - guides from the period. I don't know anywhere else I could have found that. I love clambering up the metal stairs and finding things that nobody's taken out for 100 years. HELENA: You think George Eliot is going to actually appear. SIMON: It still is enchanting to me to do that. HELENA: As a writer, do you have a ritual? SIMON: Procrastinate as long as possible. I was so relieved to discover that Ibsen could spend four hours rearranging his desk before starting to write. Unlike Dickens. HELENA: He just sat down? SIMON: He was always writing at least two things at once, sometimes more - he wrote the last of The Pickwick Papers and the first chapters of Nicholas Nickleby simultaneously. He worked it all out, I'm sure, on his long walks. HELENA: Have you seen his original manuscripts? SIMON: Almost illegible; you feel the heat of his creative energy. He talks about the characters dancing down the pen. HELENA: I love that - when somebody takes possession. SIMON: As with acting: when it's good, it's not you playing the character, it's the character playing you.

#helena bonham carter #simon callow #the london library #interviews #2023 #interviews: 2023 #the london library magazine 2023

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bramble-rose · 2 years

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Okay, even though I think it's pretty presumptuous on my part to even comment on the situation I'm going to do it anyway, because Helluva Boss has been pretty much my whole life since last year and has brought me back into a fandom I enjoy very much in a positive way .... and the current affair is very much on my mind and has put a crack in my happy little bubble. When all I wanted was to stay in my pink and red bubble! And I still want to.

But I can't keep my mouth shut. So here's my two cents:

Personally, I'm rarely interested in the producers behind a series, instead focusing mainly on the series and the characters within it. Of course, you know the producers and artists and maybe even follow them ... but otherwise I usually hold back and enjoy what a series brings me personally.

But since I'm a big animation fan (and media studies were part of my studies), Vivzi impressed me a lot, as I admire and respect everyone who works their way up from zero to a hundred as an indi artist. It's hard to build a fanbase and create content that you might not even get paid for, especially in the beginning. Especially as an adult. Time and motivation and work and personal physical and mental state play a big role there. So the fact that she made it this far really impressed me, that's why I decided to support her.

I don't know Vivzi personally. I can only judge by what I see or read in interviews. And regarding the criticism that has come up, I have to say that the whole thing rubs me in the wrong way. In different directions.

First of all, I'm not a fan of the current mentality that social media has brought with it. Since everyone has accounts on all sorts of platforms and are thus 'accessible', many people, and especially younger people, seem to think they can interact on a confidential or friendly basis with people whose works they like. Of course, it's great to be within reach of these people ... but that doesn't mean you have any pretensions or you are their friend.

It would never occur to me to send personal messages to an actor or artist, or post a hateful tweet for the whole world to see, just so I can voice my personal little gripe. I don't think that's appropriate. It has something to do with politeness and respect. And with not getting too close to people you don't know. I also respect the privacy of people on the Internet and know what I'm entitled to and what I'm not ... And if there is a conflict to be solved, you have to confront this person at eye level and address the things instead of keeping dead silent or publishing them later on the Internet as a rant post (generally speaking).

But this is just a side note, because I have seen how people leave hate comments and rants under posts without reflection. It's disgusting ... and brazen.

And while we're on the subject, I detest the way some 'fans' act. Not getting their beloved free content? Boo hoo, everything sucks, the artist should be burned! I'll never watch XYZ again!11!!!111!!! Mimimi, the voice actors from the pilot are being recast, the ones who made these decisions are human scum and traitors!

Just like Coldmirror, a well known German Youtuber said: 'In the past I wouldn't have written Steven Spielberg a letter on my diddle paper with the message: Ha,ha, your movie with the dinosaurs was full of shit. It was badly done, you could see that the dinos weren't real and I don't like dinos anyway! Really bad, I'll tell everyone now! You are stupid!!!'

Like ... wtf? Who does something like that? I will never understand this audacity. But probably it's because I'm too old for that kind of shit and at least I got some manners and rules of behavior in the cradle and I transferred them to the internet. The internet is not a big, funny playground where you can thunder your unfiltered opinion at everyone. Grow up.

But enough of that ... I have to say that the current accusations against Vivzi have kept me very busy. Why? Because I've come back to a fandom after years and enjoy it. I thought, this one thing is good. This one thing is nice and the fandom is a little crazy but friendly and I managed to stay out of in-fandom drama. However, now that this statement has been released, I have to put my thoughts down so they are out of my head. Without meaning it maliciously, no matter how it may sound.

According to the said entry, the former Spindlehorse employee was just 18 at the time they worked at the studio, and the whole thing happened about 1-2 years ago.

The things that came to my mind are the following: at 18 you are young. Very young. The person worked 30-40 hours full time and still took the job at SH in addition. Ambitious, I would say! Animation is time consuming af.

But what I also had to think about was, and I don't mean this in a derogatory way, I'm just trying to explain the picture that came up in my mind: such a young person, who has also stated to suffer from mental problems and is already working full time anyway, now has to take on a second job in addition. In an area of work that is very labor-intensive and time-consuming.

In addition, to work for a person to who one looks up, at a show, which one likes. Sounds like hitting the jackpot, but could it also have created false expectations?

Deadlines have to be met. There are deadlines everywhere. So I don't understand harping on that. Nor do I understand that if you don't get deadlines and then explicitly ask for one and get a short time window, why do you complain? Just because you might be a fan of a series doesn't mean that it's a nice tralala job that you do on the side. Because that's kind of how it sounded to me. Last monday I was asked to give out 8 different handouts on various seminars I held – it had to be done til the next day. The agreement originally said otherwise, but the boss wanted and needed them. So it had to get done ... And it did get done. I also didn’t get a thank you very much or get one every time I've done my job. So when a deadline comes up and I work all night to get the deadline for that job done ... then that's what I've done: my damn job. My boss doesn't come running and throw herself at my feet with thanks ...

A job is a job and I think before the person started at SH, the conditions were discussed. Maybe there was a contract or some other type of agreement where it was outlined what the working conditions were. So the person knew what they were getting into as far as that was concerned ....

My further thought was: It is normal that there is a hierarchy in a company. How well it functions and is lived out is, of course, that’s another matter. And of course you have favorites among colleagues, with whom you prefer to work. Just because you're hired as a fan doesn't automatically make you best friends. And it's also natural that when Vivzi's friends have worked with her, she treats them differently. She knows them, there's a different connection.

With such a small, young company, of course the money goes to what attracts the customers: the voice actors. But I think even the payment was somehow agreed upon beforehand, so the person should have known what they were getting into. If Vivzi didn't stick to it, that's another thing, of course, and not okay ...

She can't be blamed for the behavior of her right hand. At most, she could have said something if she knew about it.

As for bashing other series, that's not the fine thing to do. I could imagine it was meant in a more sarcastic frame, but I can't judge that, so I won't say anything about it. The same goes for comments about other artists in the industry. That's not the kind of thing you do, and it's lousy.

On the other hand, I've also gossiped behind other people's backs before. Not even maliciously, but to blow off steam. We're all just people. We all make mistakes. SH is a young company. Vivzi therefore doesn't have much experience as a producer yet. You grow with your tasks and maybe everything is different now ... considering that said accusations refer to a point in time that is at least a year in the past.

The working world is tough. You have to get used to it...

I would really like to see a little statement on this. But I can absolutely understand if Vivzi and her crew don't say anything about it. And that's their right, too. They have a lot on their plate right now and a lot to do (the fact that Vivzi wasn't around at some point could be explained by the fact that she's producing a second series with a big official film studio and has to commute between two projects work-wise ... just as a side thought).

Vivzi took a break from social media because she wasn't feeling well and such accusations could have a corresponding effect. And my selfish ass hopes that this doesn't kill her passion on the project and the series gets cancelled .…

Which would also be her right. It's her fucking show, and she can do whatever the hell she wants with it. And if she turns all the characters into bouncing punching bags from the Muppetshow who only speak telephone language. Her show. Her choice.

For us, as fans, it would suck, of course, because the characters and the show are very dear to my heart.

But I don't want to deny the person their experience either. Not in any way. There are always two sides and everyone perceives situations differently, which is the point of the whole thing. If the person was stressed, that's how it was for them. If they were uncomfortable, if it got to them ... okay. Of course. Understandable, absolutely!!!

Nevertheless it is already very random to come out now completely spontaneously with it and to speak about things, which would have belonged to be addressed internally. Only talking people can be helped.

I wouldn't go and talk loudly on the Internet about my current employer, mentioning all the names and everything that's going wrong (which I wouldn't be allowed to do because of my contract ... cough).

And that was my brainstormed ted talk. I don’t want to offend or harrass anyone... but I needed those thoughts out of my head.

#helluva boss #vivziepop #drama #critique #ted talk #thoughts #hazbin hotel #tired

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starlit-pathways · 2 years

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it's not that i'm not finding the show good anymore, or that i'm not still hopeful for what's to come in it, but my own personal autistic writerly habit is to break apart stories and to want to know what makes them tick is on the clock—and i think i've come close to finding out my own issues with the last couple episodes (since the coughing blood incident):

that is—what i found so clever and interesting about the story before seems, for the most part, to be missing, lacking, or lessened in these past few episodes.

for example, how closely linked the individual episodes (formatted like a mystery) were to young-woo's personal life and journey, seems to have disappeared. the healthy, mostly communicative relationship she's had with jun-ho is currently in a state of crisis—but even outside of that, a part of what makes her character compelling is her strong sense of not only being the one who comes up with a nuance that can turn a case on its head, but her strong moral core of absolutes being challenged by the work that she loves to do.

since the coughing blood scene, i feel like it's been trying to be more of an ensemble-focused show. suddenly trying to reckon with illness, a past relationship breakdown, and trying to reveal a new part of min-woo, as well as su-yeon and her feelings, on top of the plot where min-woo is still an active villain(!!!), with presumably villainous schemes still in play, while there are also (at least two) other villains who also have other presumably villainous schemes, as well as trying to focus on young-woo's interpersonal relationships, inner feelings and lack of worth at the "third act break-up/everything is lost" point—as well as reckoning with the case at hand, and the extra characters, like geu-rami and hairy...

it's all just... so much??? i feel like if these things had been better paced out throughout the show, it could've been done without feeling like we were losing too much of the show's momentum, or without feeling like certain things (like, for me, the focus on young-woo's feelings and journey, as well as the intrigue of the case) were lost, and feeling like a lot of the other plot points (like side relationships, and dimensions of audience-beloved characters like su-yeon and geu-rami, or audience-detested characters like min-woo) were either rushed or contrived.

all this to say... i'm still (more cautiously now) optimistic for the ending two episodes next week; i still love for the most part what this show has done in terms of autism representation, and have seen a lot of myself in young-woo's character. i also feel like (even with everything i said), episode 14 still had a lot of that familiar warmth there. i'm still going to watch next week, but i think i'm already feeling less enthusiastic for what's to come than i was feeling the past few weeks.

#extraordinary attorney woo #performative journaling

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alj4890 · 2 years

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Choices: A Red Carpet Diaries Fan Fic

(Thomas Hunt x OC) inspired by Top Gun Maverick and taken from my A Second Chance AU

A/N: LOL! Okay. Everyone who looks at my fics/moodboards/etc knows that Jon Hamm is my FC for Thomas Hunt. Blame my eternal love of Mad Men, smh. Anyway, due to the violence and sadness going on in my current TRR Dark AU series and that bit of angsty fluff fic with Drake and Olivia and this last angsty one with Riley, I need some fluff, humor, family life, jealousy; all the stuff I normally write for a breather. And now that my husband is out of the hospital and well again (and life has finally calmed down, LOL) I needed a Thomas Hunt fic! I adore the action, romance, and cheesy 80s aspects of the first Top Gun. And yes, I will confess that I saw Top Gun Maverick twice the week it came out. But this sequel knocks it out of the park storyline wise. And maybe because they added a certain Mr. Jon Hamm to the mix makes it even better 👀 So in this fic of mine, it isn't Jon given the role of Admiral Beau "Cyclone" Simpson. It is our beloved Mr. Hunt much to his wife's delight. And yes my OC, Amanda, is given my love of Top Gun and my own personal embarrassing story of what I used to do when playing the original's love song when single and dating as a teenager 🙈 Those poor guys never understood why I insisted on playing such an old soundtrack each date.

@hopelessromantic1352 @krsnlove @trappedinfanfiction @sophxwithers @twinkleallnight @aworldoffandoms @tessa-liam @flyawayboo @moodyvalentinestories

Song Inspiration: Take My Breath Away

Masterlist

Going Method

"Cut!" Joseph yelled out. He had a big smile gracing his lips. "That is exactly the reaction I was looking for."

Thomas tried to be grateful for the compliment. It has been nearly two decades since he had stepped back in front of the camera. He knew the reason for deciding to act just this once was because of a desire to work with Joseph Kosinski. His fellow director impressed him with many of his previous films.

He'd also looked forward to finally being able to work with Tom Cruise. The two Hollywood icons tried for nearly fifteen years to find a free moment to collaborate on a film. Each time Thomas had a new project, it seemed that Tom was in the midst of filming a new sequel to his Mission: Impossible franchise or there wasn't a part right for the actor.

Everything about this should be perfect.

Though this was a sequel, and Thomas typically detested such, there was something about the script that drew him into the storyline. This wasn't your typical action movie. It had heart. It touched emotions he hadn't thought possible for a story about a bunch of hotshot pilots.

Thomas should be having the time of his life, instead of fighting a burning jealousy that could only be sparked by one person.

His wife.

Amanda had no idea how badly he wanted to punch Tom Cruise in his still too handsome face. Her reaction to hearing there was not only a sequel to, unknown to her husband, one of her favorite films but that Thomas would be taking part had taken him completely by surprise.

As Thomas made his way back to his trailer, he could still picture his wife's face when he told her he wanted her to come on location with him.

******************

A month earlier...

"I want it to be just the two of us." Thomas slipped his arms around her. "Rachel and Stephen agreed to watch Kathleen and the twins." He smiled softly at her. "We haven't had a vacation of sorts alone since our honeymoon."

"You know I would love that." Amanda leaned in to kiss him. "But we can't be away from the children that long."

"We'll have them visit." He responded. "If they miss us too much, then we will have them stay."

Amanda's smile twisted into a playful grimace. "We both know once Rachel and Stephen are here that you and I will be easily forgotten."

He snorted, shaking his head. It was true. Kathleen, Ian, and Elizabeth adored their aunt and uncle. Nothing made them more excited than getting special time with them. Most of the requests when they came by for a visit were for their parents to stay home while they went out with their fun loving relatives.

"Perhaps time away will make them remember they love us too." Thomas teased, pulling Amanda closer. "And give us a chance to show each other our own feelings."

"Don't you dare give me that look!" Amanda playfully scolded.

"What look?" His lips skated down her nexk

"You know very well which look." She met his lips in a long heated kiss. "That look plus kisses like that got me pregnant twice."

"Must be powerful." He mumbled, kissing her again.

"Very." She sighed softly as his hands moved along her curves. "You never told me what type of movie you will be starring in."

"Costarring." He reminded her. "It is actually a sequel to one of Tom's old movies."

Her fingers stilled in unbuttoning his shirt. "Oh? Which one?"

"Top Gun." He tugged her shirt up over her head.

"Top Gun!" Amanda squealed, pushing out of his arms.

Thomas stared at her in surprise.

"I love that movie!" She continued, smiling even more at the notion. "Are you his new wingman?"

"No." His eyes narrowed somewhat over her slight pout hearing that. "I play an admiral over the pilot school, Admiral Beau Cyclone Simpson."

"Really?" Amanda sat down at the foot of the bed. "Does your character, Cyclone, like Maverick or do you disapprove of his actions and attitude?"

Thomas folded his arms. He could tell that all thoughts of romance had left by her simply sitting there being unusually inquisitive during his attempt at seduction.

"I disapprove." He grumbled, meaning it in more ways than one.

"I knew it." She nodded. "With your personality and voice, you would be serious and against Maverick."

His eyes narrowed. "Let me guess, you like his character?"

"Of course I do!" Her laughter over what was clearly a ridiculous question turned into a deep, heartfelt sigh. "Who wouldn't love him?"

So like is now love, he thought to himself.

"Do you think he will wear the outfit?" Amanda asked after a few moments of staring off into space.

"Outfit?

"You know?" Amanda prodded. "The Maverick look: blue jeans, tight white t-shirt, brown bomber jacket, and those aviator sunglasses." Her sigh was even louder than the one that came before it.

Thomas frowned while buttoning his shirt. "I don't know what he is wearing in the film."

"If I see him in person wearing that and riding his motorcycle..." Amanda shook her head with a dreamy smile as her voice trailed off.

"I take it you like this particular look." Thomas said with a sarcastic edge.

"It was my favorite look on a man for years." Amanda cut her eyes to her husband. "Right up until I saw you for the first time in a tuxedo."

Thomas stilled in his actions. "Really?"

She nodded, rising off the bed to wind her arms around his neck. "You made every other look and man fade away once I saw you."

His frown eased hearing that.

She pressed a long, tender kiss to his lips. Her hands slid down to start unbuttoning his shirt once more.

"Will you, by chance, be wearing any navy uniforms in this movie?" She bit down on her bottom lip when his kisses traveled along her neck and shoulders.

"I will." He cocked an eyebrow at her.

Her smile turned flirty. "I can't wait to see how you look in them."

His smile reappeared as her lips crashed back against his.

******************

He should have known when he first saw Tom in the stupid white t-shirt and blue jeans that his wife would be thrilled. He heard her slight oh the moment the actor pulled out the leather jacket and made his way over to them.

"You must be Amanda." Tom held his hand out, a big smile popping up.

"I am." Her own matching smile irritated Thomas. "It is so nice to finally meet you."

As the two talked, Thomas could only stand there both grateful for his own aviator sunglasses hiding his glare and cursing the eyeware to perdition because Tom slipped his on. Then he felt heat flare over him as the two walked toward a motorcycle, leaving him to trail behind.

"I know this isn't the GPZ from the first movie." Amanda said, eyeing the new bike. "Is it still a Kawasaki?"

"You know your bikes." Tom replied with a smile.

"I don't." She laughed. "I only know the one you rode in Top Gun." A blush crept up her cheeks. "When my uncle showed me the movie, it became a dream of mine when I was thirteen to ride on one."

"Would you like to try this one?" Tom asked.

"She doesn't know how to drive a motorcycle." Thomas quickly spoke up.

"Then how about I give you a ride?" Tom put the bomber jacket on, then swung his leg over the seat. "We've got some downtime before the next scene."

Thomas was already shaking his head while his wife was nodding hers.

"I'd love to!" She quickly got behind Tom.

Thomas stood there with his jaw dropped. His wife was asking where to put her feet and then where to hold on for safety.

"Just hold on tight to me." Tom told her, starting up the bike. "And lean into the curves."

"Wait!" Thomas struggled to speak. "Doesn't she need a helmet?"

They didn't hear him over the roar of the engine. Amanda wrapped her arms around Tom's waist, scooting much too close in her husband's opinion to the actor's back, and with a quick nod, they took off down the road.

Leaving Thomas fuming.

****************

Later that evening...

"That was the most thrilling ride I've ever been on." Amanda continued to gush. "I've been on motorcycles a few times in my life, but nothing will ever top that!"

Thomas blew the candles out at the table he had made certain was set for a romantic dinner for two. Their bungalow at the beach couldn't have been more perfect for a second honeymoon. Dinner with the waves hitting the shore in the background should have been pleasant.

If only Tom Crusie was not a part of it.

Amanda began to collect their empty dishes while continuing to talk about her teenage fantasy becoming a reality.

"To have him dressed like that while he drove me around was perfect." She sighed softly. "If only my sixteen-year-old self knew it would one day happen."

Thomas eyed her over the rim of his glass. "Sixteen?"

She nodded. Another blush covered her cheeks. "I used to fantasize that I could be the girl Maverick falls for. Takes on rides at night." Her smile turned a tad self-depreciating. "Kiss."

Thomas took a needed gulp of his drink. He welcomed the burn to keep his jealous words from tumbling out.

"I know what I'm about to admit sounds awful." Amanda tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, eyes averted from her husband. "But do you remember the love song in the first Top Gun?"

"Yes." Thomas cleared his throat. "Take My Breath Away."

Amanda's lips curved somewhat. "Gah. That song used to give me chills. When it plays in the movie, and Tom and Kelly start to make love..." She shifted nervously, "I used to play that when on a date."

Thomas frowned somewhat. "The film's love scene?"

"No. Take My Breath Away." Amanda finally looked up at him. "Remember, I was sixteen and well, I used to close my eyes and pretend the guy that was kissing me was Maverick."

Thomas didn't know how to respond. How had he managed to somehow end up in a movie with the one actor his wife not only fantasized about but also felt the need to tell him every detail of it.

"It makes me sound horrible." Amanda mumbled when she noticed the look of disbelief on her husband's face.

"No." He managed to say. "Like you said, you were young and most likely the young men you were dating at the time could have used an upgrade."

Amanda shook her head with a laugh. "It's true." Her smile was warm once again. "I suppose they too imagined I was someone else."

He doubted it.

She wound her arms around his neck. "So..."

Thomas quirked an eyebrow in silent question.

"We are all alone." She threaded her fingers through his hair. "No twelve year old or seven year olds knocking at the door." Her lips found his earlobe. "Whatever shall we do with this freedom?"

His arms locked around her. Eyes closed tight with the way she kissed him.

Thank God that song isn't playing somewhere, he thought to himself.

Her hands drifted down his body.

And then he couldn't think at all.

******************

The next few weeks went quickly. Thomas found himself gritting his teeth anytime his wife and co-star interacted. When it came time to perform his scenes, he had no trouble at all displaying the struggle of keeping his dislike at bay.

Tom and Joseph praised him for somehow conveying that dislike just below the surface.

"I gotta say," Tom patted him on the back after once scene, "that look you gave me was one that made me pause in wondering if you really can't stand me." He chuckled as he parted from Thomas and went into his trailer.

Thomas had to bite back that he wasn't acting, at least not in the sense he used to.

He was going full method for this role.

***************

During Thomas's last week to film for his scenes, a party was given in Tom's bungalow.

Amanda seemed more excited than usual on the days leading up to it. Thomas didn't ask why she was. The last thing he needed was another reason to be jealous. But the night of the party, he was unable to remain silent.

She was actually humming to herself while putting her makeup on. He couldn't remember a time she was this giddy to go out for a night of supposed revelry.

"You seem happier than usual." He grumbled as he stepped out of the shower.

"I do?" Her eyes found him in the reflection of her mirror. "I suppose I am."

He wrapped a towel around his waist, dreading to hear her reasons.

"I know that tonight marks our final days here." A smile played about her lips as she searched for her powder. "I've missed our home and daily routines. Having the children visit us was nice, but I can't wait to get back to them." She lifted her eyes to her husband's. "Though I have thoroughly enjoyed our alone time."

Thomas felt his dread disappear. It wasn't the fact she was about to see Tom Cruise or anything at all to do with her feelings for his character. She wanted what he wanted. To go home and return to the life they had together was still a shared dream.

He came up behind her, tilted her face up, and gave her a tender kiss. He felt her smile against his lips as her fingers tangled in his damp hair.

"You're making me want to be late to the party." She teased.

"You're wrong." He kissed her again. "You're the one making me want to forget about what time we should arrive." His hands grasped her waist, urging her closer as their kisses became more heated. "Hearing you say that you want what I long for in returning home makes it impossible not to kiss you."

She reluctantly stepped back with a frustrated moan. "We better stop while we still can." Her half-smile revealed how little she wanted to. "It would be rude of us not to be on time."

His hands slid inside her robe, pulling her closer than before.

"We'll be fashionably late." He whispered against her skin.

*********************

Perhaps it was the talk the two had or the fact that his skin still tingled from making love to Amanda an hour earlier, but Thomas was doing better at observing from across the room his wife in deep discussion with Tom Cruise.

Seeing Joseph as part of the conversation also helped him keep his jealousy at a low boil.

When she was pulled away by some of his costars, he decided to find out what they had been talking about.

"I bet your ears are burning." Tom teased.

"Burning?" Thomas asked.

"I think you married your biggest fan." Joseph explained. "She was just telling us how much she loves watching you in the scenes you were in."

"She did?" Thomas couldn't stop his smile from forming.

Tom shook his head with a laugh. "My feelings would be hurt if she wasn't married to you. She was blind to the rest of us as soon as you showed up in a scene." He winked at Thomas. "Thank God you weren't in every scene or else she wouldn't have been able to critique my own performance."

"I'd say that you are a lucky man," Joseph added with a grin, "but then that would mean we aren't as lucky as you."

"And we can't have that." Tom teased.

"No, I suppose not." Thomas mumbled, searching the room for his wife.

"She stepped outside in case you are wondering." Joseph pointed toward the patio door.

The two watched in amusement as Thomas hurried off without another word.

***************

He found her near the water. After all these years, he still loved how she would leave a party to get off by herself to think on things and the people she interacted with. He also loved that she never insisted they remain at said party until the bitter end.

He wrapped his arms around her, smiling as she immediately relaxed back against him.

"I was looking for you."

She pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Looks like you found me."

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming out here?"

"You were talking to Tom and Joseph. I didn't want to interrupt." Amanda turned in his arms so she could slide hers around him.

"You," Thomas leaned down until he was barely brushing her lips, "are never an interruption."

She started to laugh when he drily admitted that she was a distraction though.

"I'll try to stop that." She said once calm.

"You better not." He muttered, finally kissing her.

"I'm going to miss this." She mumbled, once more barely brushing his lips with hers. "No interruptions while we sneak away."

"I thought you missed our three interruptions." He pressed her closer to his body.

"I do, horribly." She captured his bottom lip with her own causing him to suck in a surprised breath. "We will have to find a way to have both them and these rare moments alone."

"Agreed." His mouth slanted over hers, drawing a soft moan from her. "We'll have Rachel and Stephen over more often."

"Perfect." She stepped out of his arms.

He cocked an eyebrow at her when she held her hand out to him.

"Where are we going?" Thomas asked, allowing her to tug him further away from the party.

"Back to our bungalow." Amanda cast a coy glance towards him. "I have a very strong desire to be with my favorite actor from Top Gun"

"That better be me you're talking about." He yanked her back into his arms.

"As if there can be any doubt." She looped her arms around his neck. "You were the only one I visited the set for." Her eyes drifted down. "The one I found the most handsome in his uniforms." Her lips curved when she felt his body respond to her words. "The one I couldn't take my eyes off of whenever anyone else spoke."

"What about Tom?" He couldn't stop the question from tumbling out.

Her lifted back to his. "What do you mean?"

"He was playing your favorite character." He reminded her.

"So?"

Thomas grimaced somewhat. "Wasn't he able to steal your attention away from me?"

Amanda tilted her head in a manner that made him squirm as she silently studied him.

"Nevermi--" he started to say.

"Not once." She replied at the same time.

His eyes widened. "What did you say?"

"I said, not once." She returned to her former position of being close against him. "He doesn't even come close to holding my attention like you do."

"But you love Maverick." He reminded her

"True." She turned her head when she heard music begin playing. "Is that..."

Thomas felt his heart drop when he heard the familar song, Take My Breath Away, playing. He'd forgotten that his other costars were planning on using it to tease Tom. He could hear the laughter of the cast mixed with the melody.

Don't kiss me, he silently pleaded. Don't kiss me and think of Tom Cruise while you do it.

Amanda looked up at him with a playful, flirty smile.

"We should go." He mumbled as she inched closer.

"I'd rather have a kiss." She pressed her lips along his jaw. "Beau."

He stilled. "What did you call me?"

"Beau." She muttered between kisses along his neck. She leaned back to meet his shocked gaze. "Or would you rather I call you, Admiral, or your call sign, Cyclone?"

Thomas merely stuttered until her lips met his. He clutched her close when he realized what was happening.

The song, the very one her younger self used as daydream fuel of Tom Cruise while kissing, was now being used to think of his own character. Thomas didn't know he had anything left within him to fall more in love with his wife, but in this moment he could feel it happening.

He took over the kiss, determined to give her one that she would never forget. He tried to imagine how his character would react to having the woman he loved more than anything in his arms. Completely his. He used that inspiration to draw moans from her, glorying in taking her breath away.

How lucky could a man be to not only have his own dream girl to kiss in both real life and pretend?

#choices red carpet diaries #choices rcd #choices thomas hunt #thomas hunt x oc #thomas hunt x amanda #choices the stories you play #song prompt #movie prompts #play choices fanfic

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ilyuu · 11 months

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HELLO FUTURE SPOUSE!!! I'M BACK TO BE A MENACE MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA... hehe... :D

soooooo... it's been extremely rainy for me lately, and i've been so cold bruh </3 (i'm lying down under 3 blankets as i'm typing this). i was just thinking about how nice it would be to have someone to cuddle with, and of course, the first person i imagined was kazuha. bUT THEN!!! another idea popped into my head. i ended up thinking of someone who would probably a lot more awkward and unfamiliar with what they're supposed to do.

the character in question? your beloved meow meow!!! the bbg of bbgs!!!!! that one guy with a huge hat!!!! scaramouche!!!!

just imagine asking him to cuddle with you for warmth for the first time since you start dating. he'd have to resist the urge to go "ew, nO", not because of you but because it's been far too long since anyone has shown him affection. acts of intimacy feel unfamiliar to him now, and he almost feels scared to be near someone else.

but instead of outright rejecting you, scaramouche suppresses his instincts and says yes. he's trying his best to change for you, he really is. he knows he's not great when it comes to showing affection, and you're just so patient with him. even though he doesn't outwardly express it, your understanding makes his heart melt.

either way, after scaramouche agrees to your request, the two of you run around the house gather literally all the blankets and pillows you can find and pile them onto your couch hehe (don't ask how that would work idk either). afterwards, you both end up sitting down together and cuddling.

initially, scaramouche is hesitant. he distances himself just a little bit. it's odd how something as trivial as cuddling can cause someone to have such profound epiphanies. as scaramouche sits down with you, he suddenly can't forget the fact that he has blood on his hands. he begins to wonder if he should even touch you at all. he doesn't want to defile you.

scaramouche is rarely self-conscious, but with you, everything is different. he realizes that you could be doing so much better with someone who has a past that's not quite as dark as his. you could be with someone who could show you love and happiness every day, but instead, you're with him.

as all these thoughts are running through his head, you're just innocently sitting there next to him, unaware of the worries and doubts shrouding his mind in veils of darkness. outwardly he's quite apathetic. not a single crack forms in his collected façade, but on the inside, he's an absolute mess.

however, right when he feels like everything will become too much and he'll break under the weight of his own guilt, he feels you take his hand.

his mind goes blank.

your fingers are cold, and yet somehow, warmth envelops him, and it just feels so right. in that moment, he realizes that no matter what he's done in the past, you're willing to accept him. you're willing to believe he's capable of change. and most importantly of all, you're willing to love him.

so for the first time in centuries, scaramouche chases the feeling of affection. he leans into your touch, seeking a sensation he hasn't felt in centuries. scaramouche knows you want this just as much as him, despite the atrocities of his past, so he tries his best to treat you with the tenderness you deserve.

and soon enough, you end up falling asleep on his shoulder. the frigidness brought about by endless rainfall evaporates into thin air as you share touches reminiscent of threads of golden sunlight.

you look ethereal.

scaramouche allows a small smile to grace his features for once. being with you is true bliss. he stares at you intently, committing each and every one of your features to memory. scaramouche knows that he wants you to stay in his heart for an eternity.

it's ironic. he detests the very concept of eternity, and yet he wants to stay in this moment with you forever.

yeah idk what else to write. this got out of hand... it was supposed to be fLUFFY and take my mind off the fact that i'm freezing.

i'm still cold tho </3

,,,,,,,,rei there’s literally nothing for me to say or add to this because this is all so and too perfect, like, calling it an idea is doing the BARE MINIMUM. THE IMAGE? THE FRAME?? THE FEELINGS??? IT’S CHEF’S KISS. IT’S SO SOFT ALL AROUND, AT ALL CORNERS.

SOBS this is so cute i can just imagine him with that distance he’s putting between you and him and how’d he look to, because you’re right, even if you are close to him in that sense, he’s not going to show or say much on what he’s thinking and BOOM. his thoughts are a clear contrast to his demeanor and then another BOOM you hold his hand and somehow it feels like bits of sunlight peeking through the dark and heavy clouds and YES I SAID “FEELS BECAUSE IT’S EXACTLY THAT

also the entire idea of them making a fort with pillows and blankets is so nostalgic and childish and cute and did i mention nostalgic because yes please (and because i love it so so so much)

KANSKS “it was supposed to be fluffy” those are words i told myself too many times writing some drafts

i’m here for a reason rei; to keep you warm <3

#— 📬.#🖇️. — rei!#💞!#📁.

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catboyrightsdefender · 11 months

Text

got tagged by @the-20th-century-girl thank you bestie 💖

TV Questionnaire

List 5 favourite shows (in no particular order) and answer questions accordingly

the young pope (+ the new pope)

the terror

babylon berlin

the league of gentlemen

ghosts

1. Who is your favourite character in 2?

james fitzjames. my beloved. my babygirl.

2. Who is your least favourite character in 1?

cardinal spaletta my detested. hate this scheming bitch with a passion.

3. What's your favourite episode of 4?

oh this is so hard. im gonna say s1e3 for the mr chinnery + hilary (the pool scene ough agh ough) + all the job center moments but really i love all eps.

4. What is your favourite season of 5?

the second one! but the third one comes very close tho

5. What's your favourite relationship in 3?

alfred/helga. power couple. i4i (insane 4 insane). love them

6. Who is your anti relationship in 2?

there is barely any relationships in it dkjsfskdjksdjf so im gonna say francis/sophie. she deserves better + that bitch francis is gay

7. How long have you watched 1?

i first watched it in 2016. life changing event

8. How did you become interested in 3?

i had heard about it before and was lowkey interested in it because 20s berlin is a topic i LOVE but the police/crime aspect kept me from watching, i think i finally watched because of @roycogaystar and i became completely deranged about it

9. Who is your favourite actor in 4?

for dignity reasons id rather not answer this question

10. Which show do you prefer 1, 2 or 5?

1 will always be my favourite show ever

11. Which show have you seen more episodes of 1 or 3?

3 has more episodes but i watched 1 a lot of times so honestly i dont know

12. If you could be anyone from 4, who would you be?

hilary's wife dave so i can do acting and hang out with phil

13. How would you kill off your favourite character in 5?

cant kill a ghost hehe. but honestly julian had a very good canon death i dont think it can be topped. maybe make it even more embarassing?

14. Would a 3/4 crossover work?

not really. would the league characters be in the bb setting they would all be dead except for hilary i think. i wanna see hilary and alfred scheming together tho that might be fun

15. Pair two characters in 1 that would make an unlikely, but strangely okay couple.

sir john brannox and bernardo. ive been a sir john/bernardo truther since the new pope dropped and i dont plan to stop anytime soon.

16. Overall, which show has the better cast, 3 or 5?

uhm im gonna say 5 cause im more attached to the cast

tagging @roycogaystar @alexanderpearce @jinglebellsmycroftsmells @sonnet-of-anarchy @ghosts-of-love @bunnyandthebull but no pressure of course <3

#tagged

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dimpleddaydreams · 3 years

Text

The Bath House (King!Yoongi x Reader)

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst (sorta?) Characters: King!Yoongi, Servant!Jungkook, Queen!Reader Warnings: Mentions/threats of violence, blood. Sexual acts, dirty talk, slight power k!nk, masturbation, unprotected sex, language, slapping, rejection. Rating: 18+ Word Count: 2k+ A/N: Very loosely inspired by the vibe of Daechwita! This is my first fic I’ve ever written, and I’ve considered making a short series using these characters and this story so if you enjoy it, please let me know! Thank you so much for reading, I appreciate it. xx

“Yoongi? Is that you?” You asked, turning on your side to face the door of the private bath house you shared with your emperor husband. Golden sunlight peeking through the window, draping everything in a honey-like hue.

Yoongi shut the door and his gaze moved to you, lounging back in the giant, luxury in-ground tub. Your hair tied up with the jade and gold comb he had made for you placed delicately in the bun. The water gently moving around your soft skin, your nude, feminine figure exposed to him. The women who served you doing your bathing time adverting their gaze, only to hold your robes and wine.

His scar-yielding gaze softened and he felt himself twitch under his blood-stained garments at the sight of your naked form. He had to have you.

“Leave us.” He spoke sternly to the women. “I need my wife’s company. Alone.”

The women bowed and left the bath house. Yoongi stripped himself of his bloodied linens and joined you in the warm bath, his kisses landing their way to your exposed neck, causing soft giggles to escape your lips. His rough hands delicately pulled you over to him, placing you in his lap so you can face him. Your sex dangerously close to his hardening length.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, my love.” He said, his thumb grazing your bottom lip. “I know you detest when I leave you be, but I had business to attend to, and my delicate flower should never have to concern herself with such matters.”

You felt yourself blush at his words, as he caressed your body under the water. His fingers first tracing your arms, then gently touching your breasts, before landing on your legs, slowly creeping up between your thighs.

You whined as you melted into his touches. Leaning into him, pressing your bare chest against his and wrapping your arms around his neck. You whispered in his ear, “Please, my beloved… I’ve missed you.”

Yoongi smirked. “What do you need, my dear? Anything you want, I’ll give to you.”

“I need your embrace.” You whispered. “I need you to make love to me.”

Yoongi lifted your head and placed a hungry kiss on your lips, his tongue dancing with yours, tasting you sensually. You untangled one arm from his neck, and began softly fondling him under the water. Grabbing his quickly hardening cock and pleasuring him through lightly pressured strokes, relaxing him under your touch, he let out a moan onto your lips.

“Does my queen need her sweet pussy fucked?” He growled, then began sucking on your nipple, tracing his tongue around it.

“Yes… oh, Yoongi…” you whimpered. “This pussy belongs to you.”

Yoongi grabbed your waist, turning you so your back faced him. You spread your legs, leaning into him, your view looking outside the window into the gardens. Yoongi’s hands explored your body before landing one on your breast, and one on your sex, playing with your soft folds, rubbing your sensitive clit.

“That’s it… my little flower… so wet. Give yourself to me... Give your cunt to me.” He growled in your ear.

He slipped a finger in your tight hole, rubbing in just the right spot, causing you to moan louder, your voice echoing across the room. The water moving faster at his movements as he focused on pleasuring you. One finger became two, sucking on your neck, enjoying your trembling legs as he touched you like only he could.

“Please… Yoongi… Fuck me..” You begged through whines and moans.

“You need your king’s cock?” Yoongi teased, two fingers continuing to caress your spot while the other hand was at work on your sensitive clit, giving it perfectly pressured rubs.

“Yoongi… YES!” You cried, eyes shut and head back from your orgasm. Yoongi kissed your neck, slowing his touches between your trembling legs.

“So beautiful.” He whispered to himself, before bending you over in the water, you placing your hands on the side of the tub to steady yourself.

Yoongi stroked himself a few times, staring at his wife bent over in front of him, legs spread, eager to receive him. He positioned himself behind you, sliding his tip over your slick, causing you to whine in impatience.

“I know, my love, you need to feel me inside of your sweet pussy.” He breathily said.

Sliding himself in, he listened to your pleasure-filled whimpers drip from your lips. He wrapped his arms around you, forcing you to stand straight against him while he began moving in and out of you. One hand around your bouncing chest, the other back on your clit.

“That’s it… give your pussy over to me…” Yoongi growled deeply in your ear, giving you fast strokes.

His eyes closed, listening to the sounds of the bathhouse; your moans echoing through the air, the splashing of the water, the sound of his skin slapping against yours. His breath sped up and his heart beating harder as he slid in and out of you.

As Yoongi was lost in his pleasure, you opened your eyes to see Yoongi’s servant boy, Jungkook, outside of the window. His doe eyes bigger than ever, taking in the sight of you and your husband’s passionate love making.

You hated to admit it, but the moment your eyes met his, it made you hot. You noticed the servant lick his lips, and slowly move his hand between his thighs, palming himself.

“This pussy is all yours…” You moaned, never breaking eye contact with the servant boy. Your eyes lit up to see him quicken his movements to your words.

He can hear us. You realized.

“Yes, your pussy is mine.” Yoongi snarled in response. He lightly bent you over further, allowing you to once again grab the side of the tub. He placed one possessive *smack* on your bottom before grabbing your waist with his hands.

His strokes were fast and deep, grunting as he felt you tighten around him. Jungkook watched as you took your husband’s cock, water splashing around your bodies. He continued to pleasure himself, his hungry eyes darting from your unshakable eye contact, to your breasts bouncing with each of Yoongi’s thrusts. Those thrusts became quicker and sloppier as Yoongi’s grunts and growls became louder. You feel his strokes get slower but harder, aggressively smacking himself into you. “I’m so close... Gonna fill you.. UGH... Gonna fill your pussy...” Yoongi roughly grunted. “Let go, my love. Finish inside me.” You whined louder, coaxing him to his peak. With one final *smack*, Yoongi keeps himself deep inside of you, his eyes tightly shut and his head thrown back, legs slightly shaking. He bends over, pressing himself into your back, groaning in your ear as he rides out his release. You look out the window to see Jungkook leave your line of sight quickly, a glare in his eye that’s unfamiliar to you. Yoongi leans back into the tub, the water settling around him. He opens his arms for you to come close to him. You take your place in his arms, one hand stroking your hair, the other wrapped around you, lightly rubbing your back. He places a soft kiss on your forehead. “I love you, my little flower.” He whispers. “I love you, too.” You respond, feeling safe in his arms. You allowed the water to soothe you for a moment, just sitting in comfortable silence before Yoongi got up from the bath. He slipped on a fresh robe before calling in your servant women, requesting they dress you for bed. The women dressed you in a silk robe that Yoongi had custom tailored for you, with beautiful floral embroidery. He then watched as the women combed through your hair before turning to the window, squinting to make out the a figure in the garden. Jungkook. Yoongi shot the servant boy a dangerous look before watching him scurry off. He scoffed to himself, turning back to face you. The women bowed before leaving the bath house once more, carrying Yoongi’s blood-stained clothes to be washed. “Let me escort you to bed, my love.” Yoongi said, taking your delicate hand in his. “Tomorrow morning when you wake, I may already be handling business in the court yard, but I promise I’ll come back to you soon enough. We can take a walk in the garden tomorrow evening...You can show me the peonies you’ve grown. I hear they’re in bloom, is that right?” Yoongi’s thumb brushed against the back of your hand, squeezing it lightly, causing you to look up at him. Your eyes sparkled with that glisten he loved so much; that he’d give anything to see all the time. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The next morning, you awaken to find the bed empty, just as Yoongi warned. You sighed, before seeing a small, hand-written note on his side of the bed. Good morning, my love. I hope the suns warms you well as you wake since I cannot be there to do so. Please be patient for this evening, do not come to the court yard. I will call for you soon. You smiled to yourself, wondering what it was about you that makes Yoongi, an otherwise ruthless leader, so gentle. He walks through the halls of the palace, everyone cowers and avoids meeting eyes with him, afraid that they may be the next victim of one of his court yard executions. He demands respect, refusing to be tolerant of unruliness in his palace. The rules, the violence, the iron-fist style of leadership, it all fades away when it comes to you. Your servant women came in for your morning routine. Your hair was brushed and done while you sipped on your favorite tea. They helped you dress into a beautiful garment your husband had gifted you. The final touch; luxury, imported, scented creams applied to your skin. The women bowed respectfully and left the room, allowing you a moment of alone time before your weekly trip to the market place with your favorite servant, Ji-Soo, and guards Yoongi had appointed as your escort. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. You turned to see Jungkook, doe-eyed and beautiful, cautiously make his way into the room. “What are you doing here?” You ask sternly, walking towards him. “You know you’re not allowed to be in here.” “I know, but I...” Jungkook paused, looking at your features. “I wanted to see you-” “Don’t.” You said, throwing a hand up to stop him. “There’s no reason for you to see me.” “Y/N, you know how I feel about you...” Jungkook said softly. He takes your hand, raising it to his lips and placing a kiss on your skin. “I could be better than him.”

“You need to leave.” You said, refusing to look him in the eye. “I could give you things he hasn’t.” Jungkook paused, debating the next few words before uttering,

“I could give you a baby.”

Your eyes widened and your body jolted up in anger. You raised you hand, slapping the servant across the face, causing him to wince from the sting.

“How dare you.” You spat. “You come into the bedroom that I share with my husband, your king, and disrespect me? I spoke nothing of your peeping antics yesterday, because I was saving your life. If he had seen you, your blood would be on the court yard steps today.”

You take a step closer to him, causing him to back up slightly.

“I don’t have to remind you that your king likes to take his time.” You said, your voice lowering in volume. “Likes to toy with his prey before he kills it. He likes to hear the squeals, like hogs to the slaughter.”

“I’m not scared of him, Y/N.” Jungkook stated, causing a light chuckle to escape your lips.

“You should be.” You said. “I gave you enough of a show in the bath house to keep you satisfied on your own. Don’t expect that again, and if you ever disrespect me like you did today, I’ll tell your king to have your tongue. Do you understand?”

“Yes, your highness.” Jungkook said. “But before I leave, may I ask one question?”

“Choose your words carefully.” You warned.

“If he wasn’t an option... Could it have been me?” He asked, his eyes pleading.

“Jungkook...” You said, your tone warning that he’s still on shaky ground. “My husband’s hands hold my heart so tightly, I can’t even think of another man.”

"Maybe those hands will be mine in another lifetime.” Jungkook smiled before his face slowly dropped. “I pray he doesn’t squeeze too tightly.”

You looked at Jungkook as he bowed and left the room, his bold words echoing in your head. Before you had time to really process them, Ji-Soo and a small group of Yoongi’s guards came into your room, ready to take you on your weekly market place trip. You smiled and nodded, arm in arm with Ji-Soo as you were escorted out of the palace. x

Part II (x)

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dennou-translations · 3 years

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Violet Evergarden: Booklet 3

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At that moment, I found myself thinking, “Aah, maybe if I disappeared, if I vanished right now, nobody would notice.”

Once I thought this, I could no longer think of anything else.

Before I realized, my hands and feet had moved. I slowly moved my whole body and left that place behind.

Nobody called for. Nobody tried to stop me.

Which was why I was now hiding. I was in a corner of a maze of roses in the royal palace of this forest kingdom.

I looked up at the sky. It was overcast. The air was a little heavy, so there was a chance of rain.

Was anyone looking for me by now? No, they might not have noticed. I could bet a hundred of Drossel’s white camellias that they hadn’t. “That wouldn’t be a bet,” someone said from within my mind.

——What will happen to me if I just stay here like this?

I tried to think calmly. Firstly, I would get hungry. My body would get bitten by insects. The sky was looking shady, so rain might come pouring down on me. I would get a fever from the cold, and then... and then... and then...

The power of my imagination was scarce, so the scenario ended there.

Stretching out my dress’s sleeves and removing my long gloves, I plucked the grass with a bare hand. Picking up some rose petals that had fallen to the ground, I threw them into the air even though they would not fly too far. I looked almost like a child trying to contain her bad mood. Most likely, if anyone saw me, they would wonder what on earth the queen of Fluegel was doing.

Why had I grown up to be like this? All I ever did was think big of small matters and be in a state of chaos. It was such a weak mindset, which people most likely wouldn’t expect to come from someone born in a family that was meant to rule a country.

“Members of the royal family are actually not supposed to expose their original selves. Under no circumstance should you forget that you must act with dignity and be a role model to your subjects.”

Even though I had already become a wife, I behaved like a little girl.

“However...”

I had experienced a romance like the ones that young girls dream with.

“...from my long time working in the court...”

I fell in love and won my beloved lord over.

“...these have been the most memorable Public Love Letters. Yes... in a good sense.”

After running and running, I was now living the aftermath of that.

My name is Charlotte Abelfreya Fluegel. Already a year had passed ever since I married off to Fluegel.

Charlotte Abelfreya Fluegel and the Forest Kingdom

Drossel and Fluegel – no matter what could happen to these two nations in the future, they had me as their intermediary princess. If I happened to die in this rose labyrinth without anybody ever finding me, I wanted someone to remember that.

As to why things had turned out like this, I’d have to rewind my life a little to explain. I had to mix up the cauldron of time that made the hours pass.

How far back was I supposed to go?

That beautiful golden-haired girl. My favorite. The ghostwriter who had become a mediator for my romance.

Rewinding to the times of Violet Evergarden’s Public Love Letters would be going back too far. It should be a bit later. Perhaps the appropriate would be around the time when I, who was once the third princess of Drossel – that beautiful country where white camellias bloomed in copious amounts –, went away and changed my surname. Yes, right, that was adequate enough.

Fluegel was a neighboring country of prosperous forestry. I was married to the man who had the priority rights to succeeding its throne. Letting go of everything that I had cherished until then, I married off.

I had transformed from a girl into an adult. Although my appearance hadn’t changed much, that was my status.

My husband was Damian Baldur Fluegel. He was the person who possessed the rights of succession as the next monarch at the beginning of our marriage, but a few days ago, he had inherited the throne from his father and become a king both in name and reality. In other words, I had become the queen as well.

Probably the worst queen in history. After all, I had run away.

Let me try to trace the rewound time with exact precision.

Fluegel’s capital was a city of fresh greenery, which had a castle erected in the depths of a forest. Said royal palace couldn’t be considered sturdy or showy, but it was in perfect harmony with the nature, endowed with a calculated beauty. Unlike Drossel, a country that maintained itself through the tourism industry, Fluegel had much of its national interest shouldered by its forestry. Drossel’s national flower was the white camellia, while Fluegel’s was the red rose.

The two countries were separated by a large river, but one would be tempted to wonder how they could be so different.

Differences were by no means a bad thing. After all, Lord Damian and I had met because we had been raised in such different cultures. That was exactly why I became attracted to Lord Damian’s… albeit artless, uninhibited personality, which was so unlike that of the royals from Drossel and other nations...

Yes, “differences” were not bad. But the so-called “differences”... how should I put it? When they weren’t tolerated, instead viewed as an absence of profits and effort, they would turn into a really bad thing.

Most likely, that was what made me the way I was now.

Was this an excuse? It might be. But that was how it was. That was it.

At first, my life in Fluegel didn’t go well.

Becoming used to even small differences in habit was extremely difficult for me, which caused the chamberlain to sigh often. He was someone who deserved respect for having taken care of Lord Damian’s personal matters for quite a long time.

There was no mistaking that I was in a position higher than his, but I soon understood that he looked down on me. One could tell as much by things such as the movements of the other’s eyes and their attitude.

The chamberlain would tell me: “That is not the way we do it in Fluegel”, “This is for your protection. You will be criticized otherwise. Now, fix yourself up”, “I have said this several times, but...”

I didn’t think I was some idiot. I believed myself to be the kind of girl who could do well if I put my mind into it. But I had to admit that I was a very unstable crybaby.

The differences such as the ones that the chamberlain talked about were, for example, the order in which people were seated at meals, how to lift my dress when hopping into a carriage, and other minute details like that. If I were told such things back in Drossel, I was positive that I could internalize it in the first try. After that, I definitely wouldn’t repeat the mistake. But the moment I tried to do it in this foreign country that I wasn’t familiar with, being watched by the monitoring eyes of someone that didn’t have me in his favor, I ended up failing. It was almost as if I were inducing the failure on my own. What was this phenomenon?

The chamberlain most likely knew this as well. He knew it, and even then he would sigh and speak in a detached manner while watching me go pale. There was nothing good in it for either of us, yet we would find ourselves repeating this vicious cycle.

To be honest, we were so incapable of getting along that the desire to jump off from one of the Fluegel castle’s windows as retaliation surged from within me. However, I had no choice but to keep going. Because I was a newcomer and that person was an elder.

If I didn’t get used to this, it would be the end of me.

Right, and there was also the tea party. The flow of the Cauldron of Time had finally returned to the present.

It all had begun… from the chamberlain suggesting that if I, who had become the queen, held a tea party, I would certainly make myself known as someone who shines like the stars in the night sky. He gave a long speech about my authority as a queen being this and that. That detestable chamberlain.

I did like tea parties, but even after being in Fluegel for a year, I wasn’t able to find myself anyone that I could consider close to me, so I frankly didn’t like the idea. I hadn’t gotten myself anyone to be on friendly terms with, so rather than a display of my power, wouldn’t this be deemed as more of a public execution for me?

Ever since I had arrived here, I was in the position of a foreign princess who had a political marriage with Lord Damian, so both the royal family that I had joined and the people who took care of me were somewhat distant… To make things worse, I was the very person who had tainted the traditional event of the Public Love Letters. People were wary of me as an unprecedented princess.

I had seen that Fluegel had a liberal aspect to it and wasn’t too bound by formalities in comparison to Drossel, but when it came to the royal family, that was a different story.

Whenever I passed the corridors of the royal palace, I could hear one name being whispered. Everyone would have faint smiles on their faces. “Baby Princess” was what they called me.

The one who came up with it was Lord Damian’s younger sister or something. Indeed, I had childish facial features and I was the girl who had married for love, so there was no helping that I would be mocked like this.

Receiving a nickname and having it made into a title meant that it was ingrained in people. Once a knight earned himself an alias, others would expect him to have a conduct that was worthy of it. In that same manner, no matter what I, Charlotte Abelfreya Fluegel, might say… I lived in Fluegel as the princess whom everyone would giggle at.

Whenever I made a mistake, “it’s because she’s a child”. If I happened to rush towards Lord Damian, “it’s because she’s a child”. Whenever I said anything, “it’s because she’s a child”.

If there was some magic spell that could turn me into a twenty-year-old right now, I would have taken it. It’d be great if I could instantly grab ahold of my dignity in a way that nobody would complain. But that was something that people had to be awarded to through the years, along with their efforts...

I might have been the Baby Princess today as well – the day of the tea party.

The chamberlain was in awfully high spirits, which one way or another was an omen for misfortune. I was watching from my bedroom as the elderly man briskly instructed the people around him.

From the room where I stayed with Lord Damian, I could see the castle’s garden, the rose maze that started from the garden’s entrance veering to the side, and the castle town. Back when we had just married, we used to often gaze outside the window together, but now we couldn’t even talk for more than five minutes.

Ever since succeeding the throne, Lord Damian was truly busy. He would be working while I waited for him in our room; by the time that I woke up, he would be by my side without me having realized it; as I stretched the creases that formed between his eyebrows while he was dreaming, he would wake up all of a sudden and then head off to the royal office again.

I was depressed since morning, because why did I have to hold a tea party while my husband was working so indiscriminately? But, well, this was also part of my duties. It was important for me to mingle with other women from a social status similar to mine. The trust earned from them would help not just me but also Lord Damian.

Those who controlled factions also had control of politics. Yes, yes, I knew that much. I had to do this exactly because things weren’t going well. In order to level up my speech skills, I had to start from taking up a stance. As my position was becoming worse, if I could get around here well, I would increase my authority in the royal territory without having to recreate myself.

I understood the reasoning behind this. What the chamberlain said was correct. He was implicitly telling me to do right, and I was the one at fault for not managing it...

The tea party was held in the garden outside at the arranged time.

There were people that I hadn’t seen ever since my wedding ceremony, whom I greeted while turning my head around at an incredible speed. Whenever someone sprinkled the subject of political affairs here and there, I’d throw it back at them with a smile, literally tearing apart and flinging away whatever came at me on repeat. Although the scene actually looked like a peaceful conversation, under the surface, I, the queen, was being evaluated, so this was a battle.

I thought I had done a really strenuous effort up until the middle of it. Instilling the impression that “My, so maybe the Baby Princess isn’t a bad person and is surprisingly smart when she talks?” was quite a success. The signs that I could make them deem me as worthy of standing by Lord Damian’s side were becoming visible. However, the very moment that Her Highness, the King’s young her sister, appeared in the tea party, everything I had set up crumbled down at once.

She was pretty late from the scheduled time – rather, she suddenly showed up when it was already ending.

Although she was close to me in age, she had a very adult appearance and was an awfully beautiful person. Renowned as one of Fluegel’s talented women, she was also involved with the National Assembly, and told us that she had rushed over because the meeting had ended just now. I had not yet been allowed to attend the meetings even though I was the queen, so I was terribly jealous... and a little miserable.

Of course, whatever had been discussed there became the topic, which Her Highness told the women present, explaining in a simplified manner. What a wonderful person she was.

Regardless, it felt like this was going to end as Her Highness’s tea party, even though it was mine. Well, that was okay too. Rather, it might be easier if there was someone to take the initiative to talk like this. I had a bug where I couldn’t speak very well to people whom I wasn’t close to, so I decided to leave it to her.

Despite this being a tea party, I hadn’t eaten anything, so I had the feeling that I would get hungry in the evening. I wondered what we would have for dinner.

Just like that, half of my soul disappeared somewhere else, so I didn’t notice that the subject had changed from state affairs to the next successor to the throne.

“Queen, are you listening? If things continue the way they are, there will be no helping it if a concubine is appointed.”

Since I hadn’t noticed it, I couldn’t react right away, even as I took the tremendous brutality of those words to the face. This had happened just a moment ago, so I didn’t remember very well what kind of reaction I’d had. I had the feeling that I had responded with a somewhat sluggish reply such as “aah” or “eeh”... much like the way that living creatures cried for the first time upon being born.

I could immediately tell that Her Highness wasn’t satisfied with my answer.

“It is because you are so laidback like this that the King has to fight the national affairs alone. You still intend to be here as a guest, not doing what you have to do, so everyone has to hold back and nobody can speak up their opinions. Talk more. Be more useful to the country. Most important of all, it has already been a year, yet nothing has been reported to us. Are you seriously discussing the succession with the King? If this goes on, someone will suggest a concubine for him.”

With such words thrown at me in sequence, I—I had... I had a thought. That perhaps she was trying to make me lose heart. Wasn’t I being attacked right now?

I looked around. Nobody attempted to open their mouths in order to defend me. There was no one. I had no one.

All of them were waiting for my reaction.

I knew this situation. I knew it very well. I wasn’t being treated as a person at the moment. My personality was being denied as well. The dignity that should be granted to the human being named Charlotte wasn’t being taken into account.

However, I didn’t break. Why?

Because I was used to being neglected.

“Yes, I am truly doing a poor job. I believe it is as you say.”

I was smiling.

“However, it has not yet been decided what will be my part of the work and what will be the King’s, as we are in the process of deciding on it as a couple.”

I was smiling mockingly.

“Now that I have talked to all of you like this, I have concluded I should propose my thoughts to the parliament slowly, little by little.”

I was... smiling.

“I was the princess of my country. But now, I am the queen of Fluegel. I did not intend to be here in the position of guest, but it is true that I was restraining myself. But is that not the same for all of you? I am aware. Everyone has been... well, surrounding me from a distance and looking after me. I was fretting, as it would have been better for you to tell me more directly if there was anything wrong... By all means, I would like to have a frank exchange of opinions with you in the future... and I hope that we can help each other... as fellow women.”

This was laughable.

Her Highness was appalled. So was everyone else. She must have spoken so conflictingly due to thinking that it was sure to make me start crying.

I wanted her to stop saying such stupid things. I was the former third princess of Drossel. Did she know what kind of country that was? It was a country where it was okay for women to become political tools. We were by no means granted the position to act freely like she did. As the shadows so-called “women”, we had no choice but earnestly do whatever we could.

I was born in a country were women were consumed and worn down. To top it off, I had been raised mostly by courtiers, away from my biological parents. I hadn’t seen my mother in forever.

Exhausted as a result of her marriage of convenience, Mother had Father build her a palace and secluded herself in it all day long every day. She did show up at the wedding ceremony, but she hadn’t even sent me a single letter after I had married off. She had probably already forgotten that she had given birth to me.

But that was the country I had been born in. I had been raised by one of this country’s strong women – a carefully selected, tough woman. This person patiently educated me, even though my aptitude wasn’t good. She explained things to me over and over again. She scolded me a lot. She taught me so that I would be able to marry anyone and live anywhere. She had also predicted that a situation like this might happen. So she told me how to act during a quarrel with other women.

That was why I smiled at times like these.

My looks weren’t bad. I was no idiot. I knew what effects I would bring about if I smiled. There was little that I could do, but I was going to be the one firing the best shot here.

I was a crybaby. I was a weakling. I was lonely.

However, I had been taught well. No matter what, I couldn’t lose in times like these. I knew that much.

I had been protected through the erasure of my personality.

That day’s tea party was over right then, and thanks to the chamberlain saying that it would soon be time to bring it to a close, it ended well.

At a later date, my feud or whatever with Her Highness would become a rumor around the royal palace, but that was a story of the future. In any case, it was over for now. Therefore, I was extremely relieved.

The chamberlain let me return to my room unusually early and consoled me with a “you must be tired”. “You were excellent today,” he told me. Enveloping my shaky palms in his hands, which had wrinkles just like Alberta’s, he warmed them up. “No matter what happens, do not forget that you have one ally,” he said.

From that, I understood a little something. That he, indeed, worried about me in his own way. I wasn’t fond of his way of doing things, but he had struggled as much as he could in order to do something to improve my position.

He had seen what I had gone through today, so he was commending my brave fight. I had been subjected to violence today. I had been told such terrible things. Even though I—I...

I was in love with Lord Damian.

Both Drossel and Fluegel were aware of this. The citizens of both kingdoms knew it. And yet, aah, how embarrassing. But everyone knew.

I was in love with that person. I was in love.

“You have not sired a child after a year, so there might be need for a concubine. Therefore, if such a woman appears, you should accept it,” she said, despite knowing how much it would hurt me.

I was told off. I was told off by the younger sister of the object of my affections. That was what she said to me.

“Thank you, but please, let me be alone.”

I still managed to keep my smile up, but as soon as I drove the chamberlain out of the room, the tears overflowed torrentially and I couldn’t stop them.

There should be things more painful than that out there in the world. I looked like a fool for crying because of something like this. But right now, I was feeling like the most pitiful person in the world. I wanted to return to Drossel. I wanted to go home to Drossel.

No, that wasn’t it. No, that wasn’t it. No, that wasn’t it.

I wanted to go back to the person who would always allowed me to cry, no matter how much I did so. The person who would stay by my side.

“Alberta...”

I wanted to go back to Alberta.

I knew it was stupid of me. But when I thought that a day might come when Lord Damian, my husband – the object of my affections –, would take another woman aside from me, it was so painful. My chest hurt – it hurt so much that it was hard to breathe. So I couldn’t contain my cries.

I wondered what had gone wrong.

Was it because I had started clamming up, since the chamberlain would always hammer me down by saying, “That kind of unheard-of behavior is not allowed here”, so I couldn’t speak the way I wanted to? Or was it because I was late to find out that not assertively addressing the royal family was bad manners, since I was in a position where I had to wait for people to talk to me first back in Drossel?

Perhaps it was everything.

Apparently, Fluegel hadn’t taken in a princess from abroad in the last sixty years, so maybe it was already difficult for them to accept a foreign object like me in the first place. Things would probably have been different if I were a great woman – yes, a woman like Her Highness –, yet I had nothing but tears. Still, was I such a horrible person that I had to be told such things?

Aah, nothing – just nothing. Nothing was working out. It might be that nothing would go well from now on too.

This thought swiftly made its way into my heart.

All of a sudden, I was able to clearly hear the sounds around me. The noises of someone walking, the whistling of the wind outside, my own breathing. The way that the tears fell down as they dripped from my eyelashes, the way that I was suddenly looking at myself in a holistic manner.

Yes, perhaps things would never work out from now onward. If so, then...

Then, shouldn’t I run away?

Several questions – such as to where, with whom and to do what – came to me, but I ignored them. I had probably broken down at that point.

I dropped my own heart, which I had been cherishing as much as possible in order for it not to break, onto my feet. I had the feeling that I heard a clank when doing so.