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#and having to learn that part and how it fits with like. one rehearsal before opening night.
sixpennydame · 1 year
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Make. Believe. ❖ Act 2
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Actor!Levi x Fem!Reader
Levi has always kept his professional and private life separate…until you came along.
Warnings/Content: NSFW, Minors do not interact, vaginal sex, creampie, angst, mentions of AoT final season episodes
A/N: You know it wouldn't be me if I didn't add a little angst in there. ;-). This story will have a final, third part.
Act 1 | Act 3
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“Levi! Levi! You’re needed in hair and makeup in 5 minutes.” His assistant knocked on the locked door of his trailer.
“Yeah…yeah..I’ll be right there. We’re just working on a script analysis.”
Levi currently has you hoisted up against the small kitchen counter, his pants down around his ankles as he’s pounding into you. You’re both sweaty and disheveled, and definitely not doing script analysis of any kind. 
“Don’t go, not yet..” you purr into his ear before nibbling on his earlobe. 
“God, I wish I didn’t have to.” He grabs the sides of your waist and starts thrusting even harder, his breathing becoming short and erratic. His climax comes intensely, even with a quickie like this. It’s just how his body reacts with you, he can’t explain it.
He lays his head on your shoulder. “You vixen, see what you do to me?” He looks down at his watch. “Shit, I’m gonna be late. Aaliyah is gonna kill me.”
He pulls on his pants, runs his hands through his hair, and gives you a quick kiss. “I’ll see you on set later.”
A sigh escapes his mouth as he leaves his trailer. What the hell is going on with him?
Levi had always prided himself on being a professional. He took his job seriously and others respected him for it.
He was sad that Attack on Titan was coming to a close; he’d met some of his dearest friends through the show and it allowed him to make a true living from acting. On the other hand, it had catapulted him into a spotlight he never truly wanted. The paparazzi, the tabloids, the constant prying into his personal life - it drove him mad sometimes.
The press was always trying to pair him with his female co-stars. If he was seen having dinner or even a coffee with any of them, suddenly they were a couple and the rumors would fly. Sure, he’d had some flings here and there, but nothing serious, and certainly nothing he wanted the public to know about.
Between filming Attack on Titan and his various other film projects throughout the year, Levi barely had time for romance or a relationship anyway.
And then he met you.
His first impression of you was that you were cute. But there was no shortage of pretty faces in this industry, and he wondered if you were just another one of those young actresses chosen more for their looks than skill.You fit the physicality and persona of the character of Anna well: you had a timeless, classic look about you that fit perfectly with the 1920’s time period and bright, beautiful eyes. In fact, it was your eyes that he first noticed, because he could see every emotion you were feeling through them. As time went on he’d get to know you better, and would learn how to read your emotions through your eyes. You were like an open book.
Any concern about your skill was quickly dismissed the first time he rehearsed with you. You were serious and hard-working, and you had done your homework on your character. Initially he’d offered to spend time with you because he wanted you to feel comfortable with him, but as the days passed he found that he just ‘clicked’ with you.
He’s not sure when he began to desire more. Maybe it was that first intimate scene when you threw him off guard by taking his fingers in your mouth. More than likely, it was in the quiet moments you two shared together - reading lines to each other, the way you would bite your bottom lip when you were concentrating. Or when you’d rehearse blocking, feeling your warm body against his, weaving your fingers together as your characters held hands.
When he felt himself get hard while shooting the sex scene, Levi knew he was in deep. It was the first time that he’d just allowed himself to lose control, for a brief moment. But seeing you there, your beautiful body displayed before him, your eyes wild and yearning, he couldn’t help himself. Even rubbing against you like that felt like a dream; and then you moaned his name in his ear…
God, he’d loved that. He’s not sure how he was even able to stay in character. Maybe he hadn’t. It was all starting to get mixed up.
——
Levi leaves his trailer to find Aaliyah, his assistant, waiting for him with her arms crossed and a to-go cup of tea in hand.
“Seriously, Levi?” she huffs, handing him his tea. “A locked door again?”
“I know, I know, I’m sorry. We just…needed privacy for the blocking.”
“I thought it was script analysis?” Her eyebrow raises.
They stop walking and stand in front of the makeup trailer. “Right..script analysis AND blocking. Thanks for the tea - is this English Breakfast?” He sips the drink, attempting to change the subject.
“Levi, it’s been four weeks of locked-door-script-analysis-blocking-whatever…I know what’s going on between you too.”
Aaliyah moves closer. “And it’s fine. You’re both adults, do whatever you want. But don’t get too distracted.” She puts a hand on his shoulder. “And people are starting to talk. I know you hate that.”
It’s true, the last four weeks he had been distracted. He just couldn’t get enough of you; or rather, you couldn’t get enough of each other. He loved kissing you, holding you, being between your legs. But he also just loved being with you: your loud laugh, your ability to make everything a dumb song, your kind and caring nature. Everything about you was just magic to him.
And he should have known people would start talking: the chemistry was undeniable between you two. The following week included shooting scenes of the two characters being hopelessly in love. There were montage shots of the both of you lying naked in a field, him brushing over your hip bones with flowers; next, it was swimming in the creek, your wet summer clothes clinging to your body as he teased you to jump from the rock; another yet was the two of you reading by firelight in his cabin, your legs propped on his lap as you both laughed at the story. Watching the two of you act together was like watching something intimate and special; even crew members that didn’t work that day would come and observe.
At the end of the day, one of you would end up in the other’s room, opting to be with each other rather than go out with any other cast and crew members. People probably were talking, but for the first time in a long time, Levi wasn’t thinking about what others thought - he was just doing what felt good and right in the moment. For a seasoned actor such as Levi, it was reckless and selfish…
…and very likely driving his assistant Aaliyah crazy.
“If this gets out, the rumors may overshadow the publicity events we have set up for Attack on Titan next week. Just..be cautious,” she warns with a concerned look on her face.
——
The following week, the film’s final, pivotal scenes were scheduled to be shot. Since these concentrated mainly on Anna and her husband, Levi had some free time that his publicist decided to fill with some promotions for Attack on Titan’s final season. Filming wrapped for the last episode months ago, but he and a few others were also called in for some last minute voice over work. Interviews, talk shows, and social media events were the least favorite part of the job for him, but he happily obliged to be able to see some of his closest friends again.
As he boarded the plane he thought about you, like he often did these days. Maybe he could bring you to some of the AoT premiers and introduce you to Erwin, Hange, and the others. It surprised him: he was planning a future with you after filming. He’d never done that with anyone before and it honestly scared him a little.
When Levi arrives at the studio where AoT is filmed and edited, he instantly feels like he’s at home. So many memories shared with such amazing actors. Only a few minutes pass before he sees a familiar face.
“Oh shit.”
“Levi fucking Ackerman.” Zeke steps out of the sound booth. “Look at you, still have a tea in your hand and a scowl on your face. I think you’re becoming more like your character every time I see you.”
“Well I drank it so much on set it just became a habit. But hating you might be the other thing I grew accustomed to.”
They both stare at each other intensely then break out into laughter. Levi reaches out to shake his hand. “Damn, I’ve missed sparring with you. How’ve you been?”
“Good, man. Can’t complain. You?”
“Not bad, not bad. Good to be back in the studio with you all. I’ve missed this.”
“But you missed me most of all, right?” Zeke puts an arm around Levi.
“I never get a chance to miss you, Zeke. They always put us in interviews together.” Levi laughs. “Did you see we’re doing the Vanity Fair one next month?”
Zeke nods as he walks down the hallway with Levi. “Yep. And then we have the WIRED one in a few weeks where we read the google searches about us. I wonder how many of mine will be monkey related.”
“I had to do one of those Tik Tok Challenges with the kids yesterday. God, I shouldn’t call them kids anymore, they’re all in their 20’s now. Anyway, it made me feel incredibly old.”
“Speaking of being old…” Zeke's eyes shine with mischief, “what’s a grandpa like you doing with that new, young co-star? Please tell me she’s single.”
“She wouldn’t be interested in you. She’s definitely not your type.” Levi found himself getting defensive. “And I’m not that old.”
And Zeke saw it immediately. “Ah, fuck. You’re into her.”
“Oh come on…” Levi tries to blow it off with a wave of his hand.
“No no - I’ve worked with you long enough to know that look. But good for you, man.” Zeke pats him on the back. “Press is gonna have a field day with it, though. I can speak from experience. And then there’s the constant juggling of schedules, trying to find time to see each other. You’re in your prime and she’s just starting out - who knows when you’ll ever have time for one another, especially with the schedule we’re about to have. It can strain a relationship.”
Levi’s schedule was packed the rest of the day with recording and media events, but Zeke’s words had planted a seed of doubt in his heart, and it had him troubled. He was right, dating another actor is difficult, especially if they’re both steadily working. Was getting in a relationship the best thing right now, even if it felt so right? Were you both rushing into something neither of you were prepared for?
____
Levi returned to set later that week, his mind a jumbled mess of thoughts and worries. It was late, but he’d texted you to say he was on his way so you were more than likely waiting up for him.
When he arrives to your room, you practically jump into his arms. “I missed you.”
“It was only a week,” He chuckles, then squeezes you a little tighter. “I missed you too.”
You grab his hand and lead him out of the foyer. There were candles lit and a bottle of wine and two glasses on the table.
“What’s all this?” he asks.
“I have big news.” Your face is beaming and you grab both his hands. “Remember that series I auditioned for before we started filming?” She pauses, building up the tension. “Well…I got it. I got the part!”
This was big. It was a huge HBO series that was already being talked about before casting had even started. Actors from all over were competing for roles, so the fact you got a part just solidified for Levi what he already knew:
Your star was rising.
“That’s amazing! I’m so, so proud of you. You deserve it.” He hugs you tightly.
You pour the wine and give Levi a glass. “I just can’t even believe it. First this role, and now the series? It’s happening all so fast.” You clink glasses with him and take a sip. “I’ll have like two weeks at home and then I fly out to London for costume fittings.”
Levi can feel the excitement radiating off you. “When does filming start?”
“In two months. It’s being filmed in Iceland, so I’ll be spending the rest of the year there, from the looks of it.”
His heart sank. He knows how the industry works, and he wasn’t naive enough to think that they could be together forever. He just wasn’t ready for this all to end yet.
“But I have some breaks in between, I think.” You’ve already got your phone out and are looking through your calendar and appointments. “You’ll probably be doing a lot of publicity for the final part of AoT, so maybe we can try to coordinate our breaks to be together?”
“Yeah, I’ll leave for Japan after we wrap here for the start of the publicity tour, then Europe and the U.S. once the final episode comes out. It’s gonna be difficult.” There’s a worried look in your eyes so he cups your cheek. “We can talk about it later. Right now, we have some celebrating to do!” He takes a drink of the wine and gives you a reassuring smile.
That night, he makes love to you softly and lovingly, kissing down your chest, your hips, your thighs. He wants to take in every part of you, treasure every moan and sigh. While you sleep in his arms, he runs his fingers through your hair. He wishes they could stay in this room forever, that the filming for this movie would never end. But the real world - and their careers - are waiting, and it’s not slowing down, for either of you.
It’s selfish of him to want you for himself. He knows that this film will bring a lot of attention for you and that will bring more and more jobs. To ask you to be with him, to make time for him, it isn’t fair to you.
Plus, he’s quite a bit older than you are. He can already hear the tabloids having a field day with that one. They would probably blame your rising celebrity on being with him. You don’t need that kind of negative attention.
He feels a heaviness in the pit of his stomach, fearing what is inevitable.
____
The final scene of the film is shot deep in the mountains, where Levi’s character has moved. In the script, he’s left the estate in order to escape his feelings for Anna, but in the end, she leaves her husband and seeks her lover, choosing to be with him.
It’s a beautiful moment. The sun is just rising over the mountains as you walk towards the cabin. Levi turns around and sees you, but neither of you say anything. The wind whips your hair across your face as you approach him, and he pushes it back, cupping your cheek and bringing you in for a kiss. All the crew watches in silence.
“And cut! That was perfect, you two.” The Director gets up to face the crew. “And that’s a wrap, everyone!”
There’s applause, then the crew starts taking apart equipment and loading it into trucks. You look at Levi and smile. “I guess that’s it then.”
Crew members start coming by to congratulate you both and to spread information about the wrap party later that night. Levi wants to get you alone, to talk with you privately, but you’ve already been whisked off by your assistant.
You ride together back to town in the same car, but since you’re not alone, Levi decides to text you:
Can we talk when we get back to the hotel?
Sure. <3, was your reply.
____
Levi’s palms are sweaty and his heart races as he waits for you in his room. When you knock, he opens the door to see your beautiful, smiling face. He can feel his heart breaking already.
“Sit down. We need to talk.”
“Ok,” you sit down next to him and he takes your hand, “what’s up?”
He knows he has to just say it, even though it’s hard. There’s no way to ease into it. “Now that filming has wrapped, I’m thinking we should cool things off.”
She pulls her hand away. “What do you mean, cool things off?”
“We had fun together, but once this is over we’ll be in two totally different parts of the world. It’ll be that way for a while.” He looks down. “You don’t need to worry about seeing me or being in a relationship.”
That makes her scowl at him. “Don’t put this on me, Levi. Because that is not what I want. I want to be with you,” she pauses, searching his face, “I thought you wanted that too.”
“I-“ he thinks carefully about what he should say next. “It’s not realistic.”
He looks into your eyes - those beautiful eyes he’s learned to read so well - and knows he’s hurt you deeply.
He cups your cheek. “You are such a talented actress. Working with you, getting to know you, has been the greatest experience the last few months. But you are about to do big things. You need to focus on your career, and I don’t want to get in the way of that.”
“So this was just a fling for you? Something to pass the time?”
“Of course not.” Levi’s stomach is in knots. “I haven’t felt this way about someone since…God, I don’t know if I ever have. But I don't want to start a relationship I can’t give one hundred percent to. You deserve to be taken care of and treasured. I,” he struggles to say the words, “can’t give you that right now”
He sees a few tears running down your cheeks and he wipes them away with his thumb. Then he brings your forehead to his. If this is the right choice, why does it hurt so badly? He thinks to himself.
Levi expects you to yell or push him away, but you don’t. “What we had - it was good, wasn’t it?” you ask, sweetly and sadly.
His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard, pushing down all the things he wants to say. “It was. Really good.”
He can still feel it - the pull you have on him. He tries to will himself to move, but he can’t, he doesn’t want to. You plant a soft kiss on his lips, then another. He opens his mouth and feels your soft tongue mingle with his, as the kisses grow more passionate.
Your leg moves across him and you now straddle his lap while Levi’s hands grab your ass, pulling you closer to him. You wrap your arms around his neck as you both continue to kiss and Levi’s hands move under your shirt to cup your breasts.
You begin to grind on top of him and Levi adjusts himself on the sofa so that his hardening cock can rub you exactly where you want it. God, he can’t get enough of your body.
There’s a sudden stop in your movements and then you’re hiking up your skirt and pulling off your underwear. In answer to your actions, Levi undoes his pants and pulls out his cock right as you sit back on him. In one fluid motion he slides into you; you’re already so wet but tight, so he wants to take it slow, but you won’t allow it. You raise up your hips so that only his tip is inside you and then you sit back down, taking him in fully.
You undulate on top of him and he can feel you tightening around his cock as you move. Maybe this is your way of punishing him or just a way to use him, but he doesn’t care. If he can be with you, just one more time, then he’ll let you do whatever you want.
He grabs your hips as you move up and down, your pace turning fast and relentless. When he leans in to kiss your neck, you push him away, forcing his back against the sofa. Your hands on his shoulders, there’s not much Levi can do other than let you have your way.
Neither of you say anything, not even through moans, but your sad eyes stay fixed on him. You’re so warm and so wet, Levi can feel one of those intense climaxes coming again for him.
He cums inside you, and a deep guttural moan escapes his lips. Your movements switch to a deeper grinding motion as you pursue your own end.
You lay your head in the crook of his neck as he puts his arms around you. Minutes pass and neither of you say a word or move a muscle.
He’s a fool to give this up.
“Goodbye, Levi.”
You get up, quickly slip your underwear back on and leave without another word.
——
Levi reluctantly goes to the wrap party later that night, only planning to show his face then get out of there as soon as possible. Maybe if he only stays for a brief moment, he won’t have to see you.
But then you show up with a few other cast members. He can tell you’re already drunk because you're talking loudly and hugging everyone. Either you haven’t noticed he’s there or you refuse to acknowledge him, and both pain him. He has to get out of here, but before he can make his exit he’s grabbed by the Director.
“Everyone, let’s give a round of applause for our two leads…hey where is our Anna? Get over here!”
You walk out of the crowd and stand next to Levi. As the Director pushes you two together, you smile and take turns thanking the crew and supporting cast. Your smile is radiant as you speak, but Levi notices one difference:
Your eyes, once so easily readable, were now closed off to him.
You work your way around the room and Levi decides he shouldn’t leave the party yet, especially since he thought a guy from the supporting cast was flirting with you. Jealousy begins to build up in his heart as he watches you from afar; you laugh, placing a hand on the man’s arm then pulling it away. Levi’s own hand grips his whiskey tightly before downing it in one shot.
When you’re finally by yourself and ordering another drink at the bar, he can’t resist walking over to you.
“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” he says with vitriol and a hint of inebriation in his voice.
You don’t look at him. “Yeah, that’s what you do at parties.”
“And you’re flirting with everyone here…is that what you do at parties too?” The words start falling out and he does nothing to stop them. “Looking for the next person you’ll fuck tonight?”
You turn your head at that last remark, as your eyes flash and shoot him a pained look. “You don’t get to judge who I talk to tonight,” you move closer to him, your voice lowered to a whisper as you speak, “or who I fuck.”
All he can do is watch as you turn your back to him and join your group at the table.
——
The next morning, Levi is awakened by a knock on his door.
“Levi! We need to leave in 30 minutes to catch the flight to Japan. I hope you’re packed in there,” Aaliyah says in an authoritative tone.
Levi rolls out of bed and grabs the water on his bed stand. He shouldn’t have drank so much last night, but it was the only way he could deal with seeing you. He’d refused to leave that party until he knew you went back to your room safely - and alone.
He opens the door to see Aaliyah waiting for him, tea in hand, as usual.
“Ugh, you look like shit. Please put these on.” She hands him her Rayban sunglasses.
As they walk down the hallway, Levi stops at your door and almost knocks. Maybe he can take back what he said last night; maybe they can make this work.
“She already left. A few hours ago.” Aaliyah puts a hand on his slumped shoulder. “Come on, we have a flight to catch.”
Levi sighs, then something shifts inside him. This is over. And he has work to do.
He puts on the sunglasses and prepares to face the growing crowd of fans that have heard he’s leaving the town today. “Right. Let’s go over my Japan schedule on the way to the airport.”
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lostgirlmuseum · 9 months
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The Swan and the Soldier
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^made w/ pinterest
Pairing: tfatws!Bucky x f!dancer!reader
Summary: Bucky is signed up to act in the Nutcracker against his will. But it isn’t all bad. At least not after he meets the cute costume designer. 
Words: 5.6k (oops)
Warnings: Mention of an injury + brief description of pain, poor writing at times, lemme know if I missed anything
A/N: I really hope this isn't complete dog shit
(Dividers by me😎)
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“You want me to what?”
Bucky dropped his sandwich back onto his plate.
“I was gonna do it but I’m too busy to make every rehearsal.”
Bucky had been staying in Louisiana for the past month, finally taking a break from going from fight to fight. Sam encouraged him to stay with him at Sarah’s place, which Bucky did for a while, but after a couple of weeks, he decided to rent his own place. He was still near to Sam, and was at his house nearly every day, seeing as he was only a fifteen-minute drive away. Bucky just felt like less of a burden this way. 
“And I’m not busy?” Bucky countered, staring at Sam from across the kitchen table, where they were taking a quick lunch break before getting back to the boat.
“Well—” 
“Shut up.”
“It would mean so much to AJ. It’s his first dance recital and I think he would be a lot less nervous if someone he knew was on stage with him.”
“I’m not a ballerina, Sam.”
“You don’t have to be!” He quickly uttered, putting down his own sandwich. “They just need a couple of parent volunteers to step in and play the adults at the beginning of the show.”
“I haven’t liked dancing since the 40’s. And I don’t know how I feel about being on stage. Would I have to wear a costume?”
“It’s the Nutcracker.” Sam raised an eyebrow and gave Bucky a judgmental once over. “I don’t think it fits the show to have you dressed like an angsty motorcyclist.”
“Sam, I don’t think I can—”
“Uncle Bucky!” A cheerful voice entered the room as AJ came bounding up to the table.
“Hey, kid,” Bucky smiled, giving the boy a quick fist bump. 
“Uncle Sam told me you would be a part of my recital!”
“He said what now?”
“What?” AJ asked, oblivious.
“Nothing, I—AJ, could you give Uncle Sam and me a second?”
AJ nodded and skipped back outside into the sun. Bucky glared over at Sam.
“So maybe I jumped the gun a bit…”
“Samuel.”
“You can say no,”
“You know I can’t say no now!” Bucky flung his hands out, exasperated. 
“You can! You’ll just disappoint him. But if that’s what you want to do—” Sam trailed off, taking a bite out of his turkey and provolone. 
“This is manipulation.”
“Is it working?” Sam mumbled and swallowed.
Bucky shook his head and stared at his plate. “You owe me.”
“Big time! Promise.”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Bucky mumbled, planting his face in his palms.
“Rehearsals are Tuesdays and Thursdays,” Sam got up from the table and grabbed his now empty plate, “you’re making the kid really happy.”
“Yeah, yeah. To be clear, I am doing this for him. Not you. I don’t give a shit about you.” He pointed.
“Love you too, Buddy.” 
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Bucky found himself that very Thursday at the ballet studio, in a small group of parents, as a petite young woman—well, she looked about 60, but compared to Bucky, she was young—introduced herself, a southern accent clear in her cheery tone.
“Welcome parents and volunteers! Most of you already know me, but I’m Ms. Cindy, the head of this program and this year’s Nutcracker! I’d like to start by thanking all of you for taking time out of your busy schedules to be here and support us and your children. It’s you who keep this dance studio up and running, and I’m so grateful for that. Throughout today, you’ll each get called to get your measurements taken so we can be sure that the costumes are ready before the performance. And as for roles, we’ll figure that out at the end of class. I have to go teach the little ones, but feel free to take a seat and watch the choreography your students have been learning all season!”
Bucky followed the others, who seemed to already be acquainted with each other, into a small observing room attached to the studio where AJ was practicing. Bucky stuck himself in the back corner and watched AJ through the one-sided mirror for only a couple of minutes when his name was suddenly called.
“James Barnes?” 
Bucky looked up to see a woman standing in the doorway. He ignored the glances that turned his way as he followed the woman out the door.
Did they know who he was? Did they know what he had done? Or maybe they had no idea. Maybe they were judging him for not engaging with them in polite conversation, maybe they thought he was weird for hiding silently in the corner. 
Bucky pushed the thoughts out of his head as the (attractive, he might add,) woman opened the door for him into a new room. It wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t a closet either, and Bucky immediately noted the lines of clothing racks stuffed with colorful dresses that lined the walls.
“I just need to get your measurements quickly for your costume. I can take them now, or if you’re more comfortable, I can send you a list of measurements I need and you can get those numbers to me on Thursday if you’d prefer.” 
Bucky thought for a moment. He wasn’t entirely sure how to take his own measurements, and he sure as hell did not want Sam of all people helping him. On the other hand, having a stranger so close to him sounds embarrassing and stressful. But he saw the kindness in her eyes, and oddly enough, he felt he could trust her.
“Now is fine."
“Sounds good.” She gave the sweetest smile he had ever seen and told him where to stand. He took off his jacket with ease, feeling somewhat comfortable knowing he had a long-sleeved shirt under to hide his metal arm. He kept his leather gloves on, and she said nothing.
She demonstrated to him how to hold his arm, and he obeyed, holding his right arm out and bent at the elbow. She chatted as she brought the tape measure along his arm. “Which kid is yours?”
“Oh, none of them.” 
He noticed the subtle tilt of her head.
“I mean, I’m not a dad, but I’m AJ’s uncle. Well, a friend of his uncle but,”
Luckily, she stopped his ramble before he could truly embarrass himself.
“Oh, you’re Bucky?” She dropped the tape to her side and smiled. “I’ve met Sam a couple times, but I’ve heard all about you and him from Sarah.”
“Oh? All good things I hope?” 
He asked in a lighthearted tone, but in reality, he was terrified of the things she’d heard about him.
“Only good things.” She grinned and grabbed the pencil behind her ear to scribble a number on a chart.
“That’s a relief.” His eyes scanned the room, trying to think up conversation to fill the silence. “So are you a parent volunteer?”
“Not a parent, no. I used to be a part of this program growing up. It’s done so much for me, and I wanted to stay connected, so I help out here and there when I can. I mostly fit the costumes.”
“That’s cool.” 
Cool. Cool. Cool response Bucky. Ask her a question, dammit.
“Do you still dance?”
“Not anymore. Can you put both arms out to the side please?” She asked, and Bucky lifted his arms so she could measure his chest. She continued to make conversation as she wrapped the tape around him. “AJ is a great student. He has a lot of potential, he just needs to find his confidence. And he’s a great kid. You’re a lucky uncle.”
“I am,” Bucky responded, trying desperately to not freak out at how close she was to him, and how she was only going lower, as she moved to his waist.
She took a break to write down a couple more numbers and returned to him.
“Now I need a hip measurement, so I have to measure around your butt. Is that okay?”
Bucky gave a convincing nod. “Do what you gotta do.”
‘Do what you gotta do’? What the hell am I saying?
He avoided looking at her and held his breath as she brought the tape around his hips.
“Just a couple more measurements and you’ll be out of here,” she assured, dropping the tape from his hips. “You can put your arms down now.”
Bucky let his arms rest at his sides.
She quickly went about measuring his legs and finished a couple of minutes later.
“You’re all good to go, Mr. Barnes, thank you!”��
“You can call me Bucky,” he tried to hide his bashful smile and started to exit out the door, but stopped and turned at the last moment. “What was your name again?”
“Oh, I’m Y/N.” 
“It was nice to meet you, Y/N.” 
He liked the way it felt on his tongue. With that, he said goodbye and returned to the observing room.
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Thirty minutes later class was nearly over. All that was left on the agenda for the day was to form the groups.
“So it seems we have an odd number…Lois, is this everyone?” Ms. Cindy asked, looking over to her assistant.
“Everyone that signed up, yes.” Lois, a shorter girl with an auburn bob, tapped on a clipboard.
“Let’s just see how this goes. Mr. and Mrs. Tudor will be group one, Mr. and Mrs. Malone will be group two, Mrs. and Mrs. Cardoza will be group three, and that leaves Mr. Barnes…”
“We could have him be a single parent to his group?” Lois offered, looking up from her list.
“We could, but then who would he dance with at the party scene?”
Bucky swore he saw a literal lightbulb light up above Ms. Cindy’s head as her gaze fixated somewhere in the back of the room where you were simply passing by.
“Oh, Y/N? Dear?” She called in a uniquely falsetto voice.
“Yes, Ms. Cindy?” Y/N answered, pausing.
“I realize you’re already doing our costumes, but would you be interested in volunteering as one of the parents? We are short a person.”
“Oh, um…”
“You can think about it Dear. It’s no trouble if you feel that it’ll take up too much time, we appreciate you for your dedication to the costumes.” Ms. Cindy was careful to add.
Despite her initial hesitance, Y/N spoke up.
“I can do it.”
“Are you sure?” Ms. Cindy blinked, surprised by the answer.
“Yeah,” she breathed, “yes. I’ve already got measurements, all I need to do is submit an order. And I can’t tailor anything anyways until the shipment comes in.”
“A round of applause for our beautiful and dedicated Y/N, everyone!” Ms. Cindy cheered and began clapping her hands in a circle. The parents all joined in, and Bucky gave a quiet few claps. “That means Mr. Barnes and Y/N will play the fourth couple. Splendid!”
Lois tapped Ms. Cindy on the shoulder and pointed to her watch. Time was almost up. Ms. Cindy was fast to get back to business.
“Now let’s quickly assign each group their children, and then we can end rehearsal.”
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“Buck, I’ve got some good news.” Sam’s voice flowed through Bucky’s phone.
It was Tuesday morning, and Bucky had been up and dressed since seven in the morning, eager to pick AJ up, even though class wasn’t until 5 p.m. He was currently lying on the couch, watching the clock tick by.
“What, you finally learned to use the potty like a big boy?” Bucky mocked.
“It was one time. ONE. TIME. You know I don’t fuck with clowns!”
“I don’t like clowns either, but you don’t see me shitting myself at the Halloween Festival.” Bucky quietly chuckled.
“First of all, I didn’t ‘shit’ myself. I peed. A little. And second of all, I had a lot of hot chocolate beforehand, and my bladder was at max capacity, and—why the hell am I explaining this to you?”
“Because you know I’m never going to let you live it down.”
“Moving on,” Sam sighed, “I was calling to tell you that you don’t need to be in the performance with AJ anymore.”
Bucky shot up from his lying position. “What do you mean?”
“My schedule freed up a bunch so I can take AJ and be in the show now.”
“Oh.”
Bucky slumped back onto the cushions, dejection dripping from his voice. Sam clearly picked up on it.
“What do you mean, ‘Oh’? I thought this was good news for you. I know I forced it onto you and all, and your thing isn’t really being on stage in front of a bunch of people.”
Bucky picked at the edges of his fingers, carefully considering his next words.
“I mean it’s not my thing, but—I don’t know, I feel like I’ve committed. And I get to spend some time with AJ, y’know? And, truth be told, it’s not all bad.”
There was a pause on the line before Sam’s voice rang through.
“That’s awfully sweet Buck. And very out of character for you.”
“Shut the fuck up, I can be nice.”
“Yes, of course. Bucky Barnes, the world’s famous sweetheart, how could I forget?”
“I’m hanging up now,” Bucky warned.
“Bye, metal man.”
“Fuck off bird brain.” Bucky was about to hang up, but quickly added in a serious tone, “I’ll be there this afternoon to pick AJ up.”
“You’re a good man.”
“Whatever.”
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“Welcome back everybody!” Ms. Cindy’s high voice rang. “We are going to practice the beginning of the show where the families enter the party. We’ll take it group by group, so let’s start with group one, the Tudors. Your family is super excited for this party, so we’ll have you enter stage right and I need the children to be skipping and bubbly.”
Ms. Cindy instructed the groups one by one. Eventually, she got to Bucky’s group, which he shared with you and four kids, including AJ.
“And our final group, group four, is the family that does not want to attend. The parents should be trying to get the kids to smile, and at least act like they are happy to be there.”
Bucky let you take the lead and simply followed what you did. He walked beside you, stopped when you stopped, turned when you turned.
“Good, now make it look like you are trying to get the kids to smile.”
Bucky copied the way you pointed to your cheery smile and did his best to ignore the embarrassment bubbling in his chest. 
The comically grumpy—and much better actors than him—kids sighed and plastered on cheery expressions. 
“Good, and you can continue walking.” Ms. Cindy ordered.
Group four finished the short trek across the stage successfully. For such a simple task, Bucky had felt surprisingly nervous. 
Ms. Cindy quickly gave her praise and ordered everyone to start over. As Bucky and his group were going back to the line, she offered some advice.
“Y/N and Mr. Barnes, could you try holding hands? You don’t look as ‘coupley’ as everyone else.”
Bucky gulped. Of course you don’t look as ‘coupley’ as everyone else, all the other couples are actually couples, and married for God’s sake!
You, on the other hand, simply said “Okay.”
“Group one, go,” Ms. Cindy called, and the Tudors began to cross the makeshift stage.
The line moved forward, and Bucky with it. He began to sweat a little. 
Hold your hand? With my left hand? My metal hand?
She simply glanced at him and gave him a small smile.
“And group two,” Ms. Cindy called.
Everyone stepped forward.
The good news is that Bucky was wearing his gloves, but surely she’d notice his hand felt different and think he was weird. Although, did she already know about his arm situation? She did mention that she’d heard about him and Sam from Sarah. Maybe she already knew, and wouldn’t care?
“Group three!”
Bucky looked back at the kids trailing behind him and spotted AJ beaming right back at him. Suddenly, Bucky felt ridiculous. 
Bucky, you’re being an idiot. Be a man and hold her hand. It’s not that deep. You’re doing this for AJ.
“And four,”
He grabbed her hand and started to walk with her. The first thing he noticed was how small her hand felt in his. It gave him an unfamiliar tingly feeling in his chest. He wasn’t sure he liked it, but it was better than anxiety.
He tried his best to puff out his chest and mimic her confidence as they walked. Bucky stopped halfway through, like they were supposed to, and turned to face the kids like last time. He pretended to point to his smile and finished the walk across the stage.
“Excellent! Let’s move on.”
Bucky managed to make it through the entire class without sweating his clothes off from nerves. 
“You ready to go, AJ?” 
AJ yelped, “Wait! I want you to meet one of my friends!” He dramatically waved over to a little girl with a sunflower barrette in her hair who came skipping over. “This is Ava.”
“Hi, Ava.” Bucky gave an awkward smile.
The little girl looked up at him unphased. 
“Hi, Mr. Bucky. So are you really a superhero?”
Straight to the point, huh? “Oh—um,”
“He is!” AJ butted in, “He’s friends with my Uncle Sam, they save the world all the time!”
Ava crossed her arms across her chest and jutted a leg out.
“So can you fly?” She squinted.
“Nope, I can’t fly.” Bucky began to rub the back of his neck.
“Can’t your Uncle Sam fly?” She asked, looking at AJ with skepticism.
“Yep!”
“So if you can’t fly, what can you do?”
Before Bucky could even begin to stutter, Y/N appeared.
“Hey, Ava! I think your mom is looking for you.” She said, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder.
“Okay, I gotta go. Bye AJ,” Ava quickly spouted and ran off towards the doors.
“Bye!” AJ shouted.
Bucky noticed Y/N holding his blue cap out to him.
“I think you forgot your hat.” She spoke softly. 
“Didn’t even realize, thanks.”
“It’s no problem, Bucky.”
Bucky was about to give a lopsided grin when AJ interjected,
“Only friends and family call him that.”
“Oh, I’m sorry! James, then.” She brought her hand to her cheek.
“No, no, Bucky is fine,” Bucky quickly corrected, “you can call me Bucky.”
“You’re sure? I don’t mean to overstep,”
“You aren’t, I like it when you call me Bucky.” 
He instantly felt his cheeks get warm at his confession. Before she could respond, he quickly changed the subject.
“Oh, by the way, I wanted to let you know that I can’t be here at the next rehearsal. AJ will be here, but I completely forgot that I’ve got an appointment that day.” A monthly check-in with Dr. Raynor that he forgot to move. “I don’t know if you want me to meet somewhere instead, or I can just come early on Tuesday and you can catch me up to speed or…I mean whatever you think is best.”
“If you want, we can meet on Friday at my place. I can send you the address if you’d like?”
“Yeah, yes, sure, let me get my phone—” he fumbled while grabbing it out of his pocket, “what’s your number?”
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“Hey, come on in!” Y/N appeared behind the crisp white door of a cute house, not unlike the Wilson’s, and gestured inside before grimacing. “Sorry, I should’ve asked before, are you cool with dogs?”
Bucky nodded.
She gave a sigh of relief and fully opened the door. Bucky couldn’t help but smile at the graying corgi staring back at him.
“This is Frank,” Y/N said, bending down to bring the panting dog into her arms.
“Hi, Frank.” Bucky greeted, giving the dog gentle pets with his right hand. “Your house is lovely,” he added after catching a glance around.
“Oh, thanks!” She smiled, walking into the living room area to set the dog down on the couch. “This is actually my parent’s house, I’m just house and dog sitting for the week while they’re out of town. Usually, I live in my apartment.”
“Is this where you grew up?” Bucky asked, eyes searching the place. He noted the multitude of picture frames lining the wall and the slightly worn couch.
“The first eighteen years of my life. I told myself I’d be out of Louisiana by the time I went to college, but clearly that didn’t happen.” 
“Where did you want to go?”
“New York, San Francisco, I don’t know, maybe even Australia or France.” she laughed at the absurdity and sighed. “C’est la vie,” 
Bucky stuck his thumbs in his pockets and stared down at his feet, unsure of what to do next.
“Can I get you anything? Water? Iced Tea? I can make some coffee. Are you hungry?”
“Just water is fine,”
“Sure, one second.”
Bucky took the opportunity to explore the room. His curiosity was set on the shelf beside the fireplace, and the multitude of shiny awards it adorned. 
Several faux gold figures of ballerinas and a plaque filled the space, as well as what looked to be a photo album. Bucky thought better than to touch it, however, he did notice the significant lack of dust on it compared to the trophies. 
“I see the obnoxious shrine of my dancing days has caught your attention.”
Bucky spun around, cheeks a little pink at the notion of being caught wandering. He was looking for the right thing to say as you took a seat on the couch and placed the water on the coasters.
“Looks like you’re an amazing dancer.” He nodded, hoping that it was the appropriate thing to say.
She ducked her head at the compliment. “I was okay.” She pointed to just beyond his shoulder at the photo album. “You can look at it if you want,” she offered, clearly sensing his curiosity.
Bucky grabbed the binder from its spot on the shelf and took a seat next to her. He slowly opened the book to the first page. 
There you were, 4 years old in a bright pink tutu, beaming at the camera. The page was covered in cute stickers and artistic swirls. 
“My mom has a knack for crafty things,” she said, vaguely gesturing to the book.
Bucky hummed and began to gingerly flip through the pages. It was odd but endearing seeing you change through each photo and page, but one thing that stayed constant was your eyes. In every photo they had the same sparkle, the same light. It looked so right on you, but he didn’t recognize it in you now.
Bucky stopped on the page dedicated to age 17 and marveled at the costume you were wearing. He couldn’t look away from the intricate feathers and sequins.
“That was for our Spring production of Swan Lake.”
Bucky turned to see a subtle smile on her lips. She was looking at the book, but it seemed as if she was seeing right through it.
“You were the swan?”
“Odette, yeah.”
Bucky turned the page once more, except this time there was no photo—just the outline of where one would be on a mostly blank page, minus the glittering bold number “18”.
“Anyway, the choreography,” she quickly chimed, her attitude dramatically changing, “I’ve got the video right here, we can watch it first.”
She snatched the album up and placed it back on the shelf before handing him her phone. Bucky watched the thirty-second clip of two of the volunteers—possibly the Tudors if he remembered correctly—as they danced a shockingly simple routine.
“That’s it?” He cocked an eyebrow. 
“That’s it.” She assured. “Ready to try it?”
“I might be a little rusty, it’s been a while since I’ve danced.”
She turned on the music and started counting under her breath.
They started by facing each other, their right palms in front of them, and placed against each other. They both took a step in, a step out and circled around the other to which they were now in the opposite places. She curtsied, he bowed, and then they repeated the step in, step out, switch. Now they stood next to each other, and she held her arm out over his. They took three steps forward, and the music grew into a faster tempo.
“Easy enough?” Y/N asked, grabbing her phone to stop the music.
It was suspiciously simple, Bucky thought, but then again, the adults were just a small addition to the show. It’s really about the kids.
“We can make this more interesting.” He remarked.
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s try it again.” Bucky gestured to her phone.
She obliged and restarted the music.
They went through the routine again, all the way to the end at which the music began to speed up. As Y/N went to pause the music again, Bucky grabbed her arm and pulled her in. She gave a surprised gasp, but Bucky wasn’t regretful once he saw the smile on her face. He pulled himself back and began to spin her around and basked in her soft laughs. After pulling her back in again, and dancing around each other, he dipped her. She wrapped her right leg around him in response and he hoped she didn’t notice his smirk transform into a blush. 
“Alright Mr. ‘I might be a little rusty’, someone has moves!” 
Bucky helped her up once she removed her leg. 
“I used to be better,” he mumbled.
“None of that,” she softly chided, bringing his chin up, “where did that confidence just go?”
Bucky shook his head. “I’ll keep practicing, then you’ll see,” he simpered.
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Time went on and not a day went by that Bucky didn’t think of you. After weeks of practice, it was finally dress rehearsal. Bucky was surprisingly calm even though they were no longer practicing in a studio, but in the local high school’s theater, in full costume. You held his hand through it—literally, for some parts—and Bucky was grateful for it.
It was Friday night, the final rehearsal before the show the next day, and Bucky was just about to drive off when he realized how cold his hand felt against the steering wheel. He cursed himself and ran back inside, luckily finding his leather gloves sitting on a chair in the wings of the stage. Right as he was about to scamper off, he noticed a figure at the very front of center stage. He recognized her immediately, and without a second thought, he approached from the darkness of the sides and into the light of the stage. She had already changed out of her ballgown and was back in black leggings.
“Hey.” He uttered, slowly taking a seat next to her at the end of the stage. He let his legs dangle over the edge.
“Hey,” she gasped, bringing a hand to her heart. “Sorry, I thought everyone had left.”
“I forgot my gloves.” 
“Seems like you have a habit of forgetting things,” she teased.
“Only when it comes to clothing, apparently.”
“Is AJ not waiting for you?”
“No, he left with a friend. He’s got a sleepover with Marshall tonight.”
“Gotcha.”
A thoughtful quiet settled over them, but Bucky couldn’t ignore the somberness in her eyes, gazing over the expanse of empty velvet seats.
“Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
“Shoot.”
“Why’d you stop dancing?”
She was quiet for a minute. Bucky started to think she wasn’t going to answer, but eventually, she whispered,
“I didn’t have much of a choice.”
She began mindlessly rubbing her knee.
“I tore my ACL my senior year. It was our annual production of The Nutcracker and I was cast as the Sugar Plum Fairy. There was a rumor that some influential talent scouts were going to be attending. So when my knee started hurting I ignored it. I didn’t tell anyone. I worked my ass off and pushed myself harder when I really should have been resting, but I was stupid.” She gave Bucky a short glance. “Opening night came, and so did my solo. Everything was going fine until I heard a pop. Next thing I know my leg is on fucking fire and I’m hitting the ground.
“I embarrassed myself and our entire company. My knee took longer to heal than it should have because of more poor choices I made. What should have been nine months of healing turned into years. By the time it was safe enough to start dancing again, it was too late. I was too far behind my peers. Even still I sometimes have issues with it.”
Bucky simply nodded, taking in her words.
“I tell myself I’m over it because it was so long ago. But deep down I know I’m not. I’ve asked my parents to take down all of my stupid awards, at least store them away somewhere, because it’s just some sick reminder of what I lost. Actually, the whole reason I started volunteering in the first place is because my mom told me I should. Said it could be good for me. She never said so, but I really think she was hoping that by being surrounded by ballet again, I would feel motivated to begin training again. But it’s a pipe dream.”
She took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling.
“All I ever was was a dancer. And a good one. It was the only thing I was good at, besides sewing, but I only learned that after I injured myself. The whole town knew me as the dancer. I guess the problem with having my entire identity wrapped around one thing is that when that thing goes away…well, who are you? Who am I, if not the girl who’s going to be on the stage one day? My entire identity was ripped from me.
“I’ve just been wading through life. Time keeps moving and crashing around me, but I haven’t changed. I still don’t know who I am, besides the girl who could’ve been great. And now I’m just—stuck.”
Her eyes went wide for a second before squeezing them shut as if she had forgotten she wasn’t alone.
“God, I’m so sorry, you didn’t need to know all of that—”
“No, I—” Bucky stopped her and hesitated to rest his hand on hers. “I can empathize. I hate that you had to go through that. That you’re still going through it. I can understand not knowing who you are anymore.
“A long time ago, I used to be someone else. I used to be charming, independent… happy. But after I was drafted my identity was no longer my own. I was a fighter. I belonged to the army. And then I belonged to Hydra. And even after, I belonged to the Avengers, the world, whoever needed me to fight, I was their soldier. But I’m tired.” At those words, Bucky slumped. “I don’t want to fight anymore. But I have no fucking clue who I am if not a soldier. I’ve been trying to figure that out.”
“I can’t tell you who you are,” she whispered after a moment, “but I can tell you that whoever you are, I like you.” 
Bucky blushed.
“I like you too. It’s kind of embarrassing actually,”
“What is?”
“I didn’t really want to volunteer for this. Sam forced me. And while I love being here for AJ, I’d much rather hang out with him outside the theater where I’m not expected to be looked at on stage. But then I met this pretty costume designer…and suddenly it wasn’t so bad.”
“Pretty?” She asked, tilting her head.
“Beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous.” He specified.
“What a coincidence. I also met the most handsome and charming man recently.”
“Charming?”
“He doesn’t realize how charming he is. I guess that’s part of his charm.”
“He sounds great.” He turned to face her more directly. “Just to be clear, you are talking about me, yes?”
“Yes, you oaf.” She laughed.
Bucky pursed his lips.
“Would you be willing to let this oaf take you out on a date sometime?”
“More than willing.”
“That’s a relief,” he sighed, falling back onto the stage. “I figured it was 50/50.”
She gave him a silly grin and shook her head in amusement.
“You underestimate yourself, Bucky Barnes.”
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The final performance was perfect. Well, as perfect as it could be with a production of the Nutcracker with dancers ages ranging from 6 to 106. Most importantly, AJ had fun and did a fantastic job. After the show and final bows, Sarah, Sam, and Cass came rushing onto the stage to congratulate AJ (and Bucky of course. Sam made sure to tell him that he was very proud of how brave he was, and Bucky rolled his eyes. He secretly appreciated it, though.) Cass handed one bouquet to his little brother and the other to his uncle, who funny enough lit up in a similar way as his nephew at the gift. But Y/N lit up the most when Sarah handed a third bouquet to her.
“For keeping Bucky in line, and giving a beautiful performance,” Sarah clarified.
“You’re so sweet,” she beamed, pulling Sarah in for a quick hug. “I have the perfect vase for this.”
“Can we go get ice cream now?” AJ jumped. 
“Let’s get you out of your costume first,” Sam said and gave a quick wink to Bucky before herding his sister and Nephews backstage. “We’ll see you by the car Buck.”
Bucky nodded and turned his full attention to Y/N. He felt weirdly high after the performance. “Wanna join us for ice cream?” He asked, placing his hands on her waist.
“Gladly.” She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck.
I like dancing with you.
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A/N: If you've made it this far, tysm for reading!!! I really hope this doesn't suck complete ass, idk what happened 😰 Im going to go hide in a hole now and question everything
If you'd like to read more, here's my Masterlist
Happy holidays!
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Sorry to post something more than drawings and this might be an incoherent post but,, everyone has touched on it without actually linking their very similar ideas together, so I wanted to do that for all of you. If it wasn't clear, I will be talking about Sanders Sides.
The importance of every side is a very nuanced subject that barely gets touched on anymore by the fandom. @beauty-and-passion has made a lot of very good analyses, theories and headcannons about the sides and you should definitely check her posts out.
However what I don't understand is how everyone can touch on the importance of Virgil without actually linking every piece together. It had always been confusing to me (ever since I joined the fandom in 2018) what the sides can do and what they can feel. I now understand that what they feel has nothing to do with what they can do, for Thomas. Virgil, despite being anxiety, can feel happiness, can have empathy, can be logical. He understands all the points made by Logan once they're explained to him in a way he can understand.
A lot of people have also talked about ego, id and superego, and how Freud's theory on them is supported by Sanders Sides. I won't go on too much detail but basically, ego is the logical part of your brain, superego is the moral part of your brain and id is the creative part. You can see how that beautifully ties in with Sanders Sides.
However a lot of people have written about how anxiety and your fight or flight can be used as a weapon for self care. Anxiety is a fight or flight response, so it obviously can get you out of harming situations (see: aa part 2). Anxiety can also worsen intrusive thoughts, something we've seen before. But worsening them for a person means making intrusive thoughts (ehem, ehem, Remus) stronger. In AA part 2 we also saw the contribution anxiety makes to the creative process, by making (specifically) Thomas "rehearse and rehearse". Not to mention that ever since his acceptance, he has been siding with morality a lot more, because it's the fear of getting caught that stops us from breaking most laws, it's the fear of being judged (by a higher force) that stops us from being immoral ("Similarly you fear being perceived as a bad friend" -Deceit, SvS). Even Thomas himself has said that Anxiety probably plays the most crucial role, not only with the consequences being so very severe of him "ducking out", but also by his own admission ("You're the one that pushes me out of bed in the morning"). And forgive me for talking from a personal point of view, but as someone who studies science, anxiety is the drive I need to study, contributing to my overall ability to learn.
Virgil, as a lot of you have pointed out before, is one of the most character developed sides of them all. And I doubt that it's because he's so well liked by the public, and more because he is literally the driving factor of the series. Virgil isn't a "dark" side or a "light" side because, as we've seen from 'Fitting in', he can't be boxed in a specific label. He is the one who makes Creativity act, Intrusive thoughts more powerful, Morality abide, Logic work, Self care active and so so much more.
I can't wait to see how Mr. Sanders will continue the series, but I also can't wait to observe more invisible strings of all the sides to Virgil. No wonder he's that powerful, is all I'm saying.
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nso-csi · 29 days
Text
240822 MCountdown Mini Fan Meeting — Taemin translation thread.
MC: If a fatal charm is born as a person, it will be this person. A word to your TAEMates. T. Hello everyone, this is Taemin who is back after a long while with my 5th mini album. Nice to meet you.
MC. Applause! Congratulations on your solo 10th year debut anniversary. T. I have been busy carrying out activities and before I knew it, it’s my 10th year since debuting solo. Looking back at it, it’s because of the love given by so many people that I was able to continuously promote. I will non-stop develop myself and be the Taemin that can present everyone with good music. thank you.
MC. Do introduce Sexy In The Air T. It’s song with various genre and it’s a song fitting for the summer. The summer is hot so I will be thankful if you can listen to it and spend this summer refreshingly.
MC. (Talks about the MCD’s concept today, Vampire) With that vibe, we would like to see a part of sunbaemin’s Sexy In The Air. T. If I were to say a little about it, the beat for Sexy in the Air is one where you can dance well if you dance to the beat. You can just do it like that and I think that would be good.
MC. That’s so cool. Shall we be Taemin sunbaenim’s wings and dance with him on both of his sides T. Oh that would be a great honour to me.
(After dancing to SITA)
T. How did you guys prepare this? You guys danced well. Thank you.
MC asked Taemin to review them with the stickers T. While I was doing it, I was able to feel how cool he danced on the side, and I could hear his breathing too and it sounded cool. And on this side, he did it sexily with the gaze and all… Hot guy. thank you.
MC. (Asking Taemin the questions MCD collected)
MC’s Qns. Congratulations on reaching your 10th year anniversary. In 10 words, what’s the aspiration you have for the future or what are your thought on the promotion this time. T. Oh in 10 words. Hmm…. I will be the Taeminnie that is always up for challenges. That’s my aspiration.
MC’s Qns. Second question. Matching the song title ‘Sexy In The Air,’ if there’s a time that you thought ‘Oh I am kinda sexy huh’ recently, when is it? T. (Checks the openings of his top) I think there was a time that I felt myself sexy. If you are asking when is it… I am actually working hard in preparing my concert rehearsal and when I saw myself when I was doing my rehearsals I would think ‘Wow… this is no joke though? I am kinda sexy though?’ If you guys are going to come watch my concert, you guys would probably able to see it too. Please do come and watch it a lot.
MC. I want to go too.. T. Thank you.
MC’s Qns. Third question. You will probably be everything from sexy, charismatic and chic on MCD today. So looking forward to it. In that case, can you be a super cutie after a long while and show us your aegyo? Please T. Ah… aegyo… Uh huh uh huh… well if you were to request for it, I can’t refuse right. (Does a peace sign, rabbit look) So do I just need to do this? I learned that there’s a front teeth flirting. Yes… thank you.
MC. Thank you. That’s all the questions we prepared today. We have TAEMates here with words for Taemin today. Are the TAEMates ready? 1, 2, 3!
TAEMates. Lee Taemin! x3
MC. Taemin’s sunbaemin’s stage will be revealed in a bit so do look forward to it. We will look at SF9 and Hyori’s stage first. SF9’s… T & MC. Don’t worry be happy!
cr. iheartshinee_
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iamthecomet · 10 months
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What if….whats if aether takes Virgin ghouls virginity???
🌑
Aether/Aeon virginity kink below the cut.
Aeon's new. Wide-eyed. Not innocent in pit terms. But on earth? Aether has a hard time pacing himself. It's been so long since he's been in this position. Teacher. Mentor. Elder. He wants to savor it. Wants to savor the way Aeon looks at him as they go over guitar parts. As Aeon learns how his magic works top side. As Aether puts one big hand on the small of Aeon's back. Heavy. Warm. Persistent. Aeon makes little noises when Aether touches him. Tiny huffs of breath. A hitch. A shudder when Aether presses a little closer. Fits his arms around Aeon's body and positions his hand on the Fantoman. Pressing up just tight enough. Not so much that Aeon can feel how hard Aether's gotten in his pants. But enough to really feel him--the weight of him. Aether doesn't want to play all his cards just yet. They spend so much time together. Alone. Aether makes sure of it. Aeon has a full schedule. Days filled with learning, with chores that Aether supervises. Full band rehearsals followed by extra moments where Aether goes over the little things he stumbled on. And Aether is always close. Gentle. Guiding. Aeon isn't stupid. He knows what's happening. Knows why Aether keeps resting his hand on Aeon's thigh--looking at the size difference. Knows that Aether is trying to sink his fangs into Aeon before anyone else can.
It's late, hours after rehearsal has wrapped up. Aeon's determined to nail a particularly tough part and Aether is willing to indulge him. Every moment spent is a moment closer to having Aeon spread open for him. Aeon's fingers hurt, his spine aches. He doesn't actually give a shit about this particular guitar part anymore. He's been feeling the weight of Aether's gaze on him for a week now. Swiss has been sniffing him out too. Doing the same things. Sitting too close, nuzzling up against Aeon during movies. Hand dragging up over his thigh to rest on the front of Aeon's sweatpants. Almost enough--but nowhere close. And Aether has been helpful. He's guided Aeon through everything else. He's gentle, trustworthy. And if Aeon is going to trust this unfamiliar body to anyone--Aether is the right choice. He just isn't quite sure how bring it up. How to ask. Aether's watching him like he's hungry. Eyes heavy lidded, no longer focusing on the stumbling movements of Aeon's fingers. Aeon stands. Aether sits back on his stool, watches as Aeon puts the guitar back in its case. He cocks an eyebrow as the smaller ghoul walks toward him. Hesitation in his step, but Aether can smell the want on him. Ozone, sparked with menthol. Aether's cock twitches in his pants. Aeon sinks to his knees between Aether's legs. Presses both palms against Aether's thighs, drags up and down, thumb grazing over the chubby head of his cock where it rests against his thigh. "What are you doing, bug?" Aether asks, reaching down to drag his fingers through Aeon's hair just as Aeon's hands drag high. Palm covering Aether's cock. Hard and twitching in his jeans. Aeon's hard too, Aether can see that. He's straining against those skin tight jeans Dew's been lending him. Aether tries not to sigh in relief, tries not to look too excited despite the way his cock jumps against Aeon's palm. "Dunno," Aeon muses, eyes wide and innocent as he looks up at Aether. A ruse, Aether knows, but it doesn't matter. "Teach me?"
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Snowed In - Part I
1996
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Pairing: Dave Mustaine x f!reader
Summary: When a festival gets canceled for inclement weather, Y/n–the young guitarist from an up and coming band selected to tour with Megadeth–is stuck at a vacation rental. Her bandmates get stuck in town and Dave comes back just in time to get snowed in together with her. Dave doesn't mind showing her a few tips and tricks on the guitar, but there is another tune a-hum between them.
𝓦𝓐𝓡𝓝𝓘𝓝𝓖𝓢: power dynamic/mentorship, Dd/lg, age gap, size
read Part II here
.。❅*⋆⍋*∞*。.。❅*⋆⍋*∞*。.。❅*⋆⍋*∞*。.。❅*⋆⍋*∞*。.。❅*⋆⍋*∞*。.。❅*
It started innocuously enough. When Dave first reached out to my band inviting us to tour with Megadeth on their upcoming tour, I was beside myself–it was the dream: to go on tour with such a successful rock band as their opener. I figured we wouldn't be spending much time with the big shots, but once we were on the road Dave actually spent time with us–chatting, jamming, sharing meals at backstage catering. He had advice for us. He took a liking to us–he took a liking... to me.
Now I stood by the window, watching the snow out in the field. We had the rare break in the tour schedule and this vacation rental was the perfect place to rest for a few days when one of the festivals got canceled due to the report of a possible blizzard–how could such a light dusting of flurries take down a major concert? "Inclement weather"... it seemed silly. But my thoughts drifted to Dave's warm smile, melting the stiffness of disappointment that had been filling my chest. 
Hopefully the Megadeth guys would be here soon, returning from any PR obligations and from jetting away for a few days. My bandmates had gone to town to get groceries and it was my job to get the fire started in the hearth. In my heart, I wish time would burn up like the fiery logs, until Dave would arrive. I thought of the promo photoshoot we did before the tour, his biceps playfully wrapped around my small frame and how I fit right under his chin, framed by his apricot hair–he was a lot more experienced at posing for the camera than me and knew exactly where to put his hands. I can still smell the cologne he wore that day–my body warmed to the thoughts I play over in my head night after night, my heart a skipping record, hearing that first nonchalant utterance of "sweetheart" on his tongue. I wonder, had I fallen right into his knowing checkmate in this game he must have played so many times before?
At first, our practice sessions were purely musical–honing my skills on the fretboard and learning the intricacies of his compositions. But gradually, other elements crept into our exchanges. The warmth of his fingertips tracing delicate patterns along my exposed flesh, sending shivers down my spine. His voice, low rumbling whispers in my ear, making my heart race faster than any riff. 
I knew I was playing with fire–every compounding moment when I sent him one more burning doe-eyed gaze, every rehearsal I showed up effortlessly braless bouncing breathless, every playful tilt of my head onto his shoulder. This man held my dreams of 'making it' in his callused palms, but after years of staying on the straight and narrow path, putting everything into my music, I let myself be intoxicated by his nearness whenever I could steal the moment.
The familiar crackling of the gravel driveway broke through the quiet snow-dampened stillness, followed by the creaking of the front door. I felt the frigid outdoor air draft through the old farmhouse, tickling my neck, my breath puffing a small fog in front of me. 
"Daddy's home!" called out the familiar snarky voice, "Heeey-llo?"
"Dave? In the living room!" I called back.
Dave kicked off his boots, hung his stiff leather jacket on the stair railing, and walked up behind me. "The guys left you all alone?" he purred with a smirk. "Do they expect little you to shovel all this snow by yourself?" 
"It's not that bad." I shrug.
"Well, we're not in Cali anymore. It's going to get much worse tonight. I hate driving on these icy roads, so I decided to beat the storm," Dave said, "...and I wanted to make sure my Cali girl has everything she needs here." 
Dave encircled me with his chiseled arms from behind, holding out a box of graham crackers in one hand and a bag of marshmallows and cacao powder in the other. I couldn't help but breathe in, lifting my chest closer to his offerings of s'mores and hot cocoa supplies, grazing his arms. 
I lift my chin to look up at him, "In the mood for something sweet?" I ask.
"Mmmm… you could say that…" His voice was deep, almost hungry sounding. "So where are your ‘mates anyway?" 
"Went to town to pick stuff up."
"They better hurry or they may be spending the night at town hall until the roads are clear…" Dave looks at his watch, furrowing his brow. "It may just be you and me tonight," he smirks, his hazel eyes penetrating me. He leaned over to the little radio on the mantle and turned it on.
"18:00 2 INCHES. 20:00 5 INCHES. BEEP BEEP BEEP MONROE COUNTY: 18:00 2.5 INCHES. 20:00: 7 INCHES…"
I turned around in his loose embrace, "Maybe you can show me the fingering for the chords in Sweating Bullets?"
Dave smirked down at me, recognizing my desire for his attention. Biting my lip, I gently shifted closer to him. He put the groceries aside and wrapped his arms around me tighter, giving me a slight squeeze, his muscles flexing. He put a finger under my chin and tipped it up so that my eyes were forced up to his sultry gaze.
"You want me to show you the fingering, sweetheart?"
I blushed, gazing back at him, his lips slightly curled but otherwise poker faced. Typical Dave.  His eyes were like nets for my quickening breath. 
Dave chuckled with a smirk. He looked down at me, admiring my flustered cheeks. He slowly dropped one hand to my hip and pulled me closer, holding me against his strong, worked out body.
"Don't be shy now... You asked for some help with the chords and you'll get it. But I have a few conditions–" The lights flickered and then the room was darkness. 
Dave looked around the dim room, the only light now coming from the soft glow of the fireplace. "Fuck..."
The sudden fading of the room around us felt like floating in a sensory deprivation chamber, every rise and fall of his breath against me sending shivers down my spine in the absence of our surroundings.
"Looks like it's nothing but the two of us for a while, sweetheart. Hope you're prepared to spend a long time in the dark with me. It'll give me plenty of time to show you the… chords."
"BEEP BEEP BEEP REPORTS OF POWER OUTAGES IN MONROE…"
Dave was absolutely enjoying the effect the darkness had on me. He always saw right through my best efforts at rock n roll toughness–I was so easily flustered, and being in the dark was definitely exacerbating it. I could hear my own nervousness and excitement in my little breaths and undoubtedly he could hear it too.
"Come on…" He leaned into my ear with a whisper, giving my hips a squeeze. He put his lips against the side of my neck, just barely touching the skin. The vibration of his words against my throat awakening my heat. "Let's sit on the couch over there and get comfortable. You still want to learn the chords don't you?"
Dave grabbed a guitar and carried it over to the couch. He could see the way I stumbled around in the darkened room, bumping into chairs and things as my feet tried to feel their way. He gently placed a hand in front of me and guided me over to the couch.
"Watch your step, sweetheart. You're all over the place…" He teased in a soft tone, still enjoying how the darkness had me flustered. As we got to the couch he laid the guitar against the edge of the couch and sat down, stretching his arms out and pulling me close to him, situating me between his legs and wrapping an arm around my waist. I could feel his smirk in the air, but in the cold room he was warmth. 
"There we go." He said, his lips tickling my ear. "Much better." He slowly traced the tip of my inner thigh, his touch feather-like, before putting the guitar across my lap.
I tried to regain my cool. "Oh, so the secret to Dave Mustaine's playing is having an extra pair of hands?"
"You've figured it out, sweetheart. That's my big secret. I just need a pretty, little thing to have on my lap while I play..."
"For warmer tone, of course..." I replied slyly.
He pulled me tightly against his lap, his hands snaking under my shirt and pulling up at the hem until the heat from his chest radiated against my bare back.
"Very observant, sweetheart. You're picking up on things fast. Seems like someone is ready for a more… advanced lesson." He whispered in my ear.
Dave gently reached out and put his hands over mine, situating them into the correct position for the chords. His large, muscular, and callused hands held my own small, lithe (albeit callused) hands. He curled his lips, noticing how the size difference made me look so small compared to him.
"There we are. Now try it, sweetheart." He said, keeping his hands over mine, his lips brushing against my ear. His chest lightly grazed my back as he spoke, the faint scent of cigarettes and ambrette filling my nostrils.
Dave smiled, watching me play. He couldn't help but admire how my body moved and how I concentrated on the chords while his muscular frame was pressed against me from behind. I struggled to focus on the music with the electric feel of his hand on top of mine, his arm around my waist, and his warm breath against my neck. His every touch made my skin tingle.
"That's it… keep going… mmm, you're doing great sweetheart…"
I could feel Dave's steady gaze. I loved getting to show off in my element, passionate and focused and skilled; He slowly moved his hands away from mine, allowing me to play on my own while his arms curled around me, keeping me pulled against his chest.
"'Atta girl. You know what you're doing, sweetheart. That's right. Like that." He muttered into my ear, nuzzling the side of my neck as I played, his nose and lips setting my skin alight while his wavy hair fell around me, perching on my bare chest. I couldn't help but gasp lightly at his tender sensuality, giving me the kind of attention I craved from him.
"Mmmm… don't tense up now… keep your hands relaxed." He teased as my body reacted to his grazing hands. I felt him lightly nip at my earlobe before speaking again, his tongue just barely flicking against my ear.
"Keep going, sweetheart. You're doing so well. Let's try it a little faster." 
I picked up the tempo. He shifted his arms tighter around me, my back against his chest with no space in between, the sturdiness of his muscular torso scaffolding his embrace. I could feel his body already responding in his jeans and couldn't help but shift into him every time I changed chords.
"BLACK ICE DANGERS! GAS PUMPS OUT OF SERVICE IN THE FOLLOWING COUNTIES…"
"m'uugh just like that, sweetheart. Keep going…" He whispered, his hot lips brushing against the side of my neck as his hands crept along my body, tracing every contour.
"You like it when I touch you like this, don't you?" He whispered.
"m'Dave. Show me something harder." I whine.
"Something harder? I think I can work with that." He chuckled, pausing for a moment before continuing. "Why don't you put down the guitar, sweetheart?"
.。❅*⋆⍋*∞*。.。❅*⋆⍋*∞*。.。❅*⋆⍋*∞*。.。❅*⋆⍋*∞*。.。❅*⋆⍋*∞*。.。❅* ...to be continued... read Part II here
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submission for @mustainegf contest #1
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Decisions, Decisions
Rex x reader | 1.4k words
Content: light angst, fluff
Inspiration (from @rosemarynightmares): Also I find it so interesting how non-commitical Rex actually is; like, who would've guessed that a guy with such a spit-death-in-the-face attitude on the battlefield would be so scared to let someone into his heart.
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Rex wasn't scared.
That's what he told himself.
He was just... cautious? No, that wasn't it either. Cody was cautious. Rex had learned long ago how to embrace risk and spontaneity, having Anakin as a leader.
Considerate? That might be it. Careful thought was part of the definition he brought up on his holopad for it. That sounded about right. He wasn't being hasty and irrational. He wasn't being thoughtless or stupid.
And he definitely wasn't scared.
Rex sighed, running a hand over his fuzzy hair and down the back of his neck. Putting a word to his feelings hadn't helped like he thought it would. He still had that gnawing ache in the middle of his torso. Right above his stomach, right below his heart. Combining butterflies and heartbeats into something truly uncomfortable.
"Sir?"
Rex turned to see Tup standing at attention by the door. He stood from his bunk, letting his holopad fall next to the pillow.
"Is she here already?"
"Yes, sir," the soldier nodded. "She's waiting in General Skywalker's quarters. He said he won't let anyone bother you there."
Tup and Anakin were the only two who knew about you; his little... "friend." Tup had a habit of accidentally walking in on conversations at the wrong time, but once he'd finally understood what the private meetings and hushed whispers were about, he'd promised not to tell a soul.
And Anakin hadn't been able to hide his romance with Senator Amidala from him, so it was only fitting Rex let the Jedi in on his own predicament. You truly had started out as just friends. But over time, bonds strengthened and affections grew, and most importantly, the war changed. Your trips to the Dominator as an ambassador were no longer justified as the threats were simply too great. Anakin helped get around all that. He said it was a favor to a friend, but Rex knew the Jedi was waiting for something more to blossom. To no longer be the only one in the army with a secret.
Rex strode quickly to the General's room, not wanting to give himself too much time to think, even though he hadn't a clue what he was going to say to you. He'd been kept up all night mulling it over. Going back and forth on whether to confess his feelings and ask for more than he possibly deserved, or whether to let you go like he ought to have done a long time ago. The decision was maddening. He couldn't live without you; he knew that without a doubt. But to keep you was to be selfish...
Right?
"Good luck, Captain!"
Rex halted in surprise. He turned to find Kix peeking out from the doorway to the med bay behind him.
"Come again?"
Kix looked a little embarrassed, but only for a moment. "Tup told me about your... friend. You know the boys talk a lot when they're in here."
"Do they now." Rex folded his arms disapprovingly. "And what about doctor-patient confidentiality?
Kix shrugged. "Just thought you could use some luck is all," he mumbled before disappearing.
Rex shook his head. Well, that made three people who knew about you, then. Not ideal, but he supposed Kix could be trusted.
He finally reached the desired door and took just a few moments to collect his wits. His head was sweaty all of a sudden; how long had he been perspiring like this? And his breaths were coming out way too shaky for his liking. Perhaps he should go back to his bunk for a while, meet up with you later, after he'd had a chance to decide what to say and maybe even rehearse a whole speech he could simply memorize...
The sound of your laughter on the other side of the door pulled him out of his trance. For a second, his spirits were lifted and a relieved smile fell into place. He loved hearing your happiness. The warmth you had rivaled any sun in any system.
But then it occurred to him, you wouldn't laugh for no reason. Were you watching a video of some sort?
Another's muffled voice joined your own and his stomach clenched. You were not alone.
Fantastic.
"There you are!" your cheerful voice called out as soon as soon as he opened the door. You were sitting across from none other than Ahsoka Tano, the two of you looking for all the world like best friends as you leaned in over whatever laugh you were sharing.
"You know it's rude to keep a girl waiting," Ahsoka said, getting up and starting to make her way out. She gave him a look as she passed, which Rex knew meant she was aware of everything going on between the two of you.
"Remember what I said!" she called back over to you. You gave her a little salute, and then Ahsoka left and Rex was alone with you at last.
You were beautiful. You always were. Rex clenched his fists behind his back, needing to ground himself while he still toyed with all the decisions he had yet to make in his mind. How could he let you go? How could he ask you to stay? There was no right answer here and he hated that.
"Rex," you supplied the conversation first, stepping forward confidently and bringing your hands up to grab at his arms. You pulled them apart, brought them forward so you could wrap your hands around his fists. He slowly relaxed them and you wormed your fingers between his.
"I know you are in a difficult spot," you said, equal parts softness and assertiveness. You knew exactly what to say. Where he stuttered, you filled in the gaps. When he paused, you pressed on.
"I just need you to know that this isn't a decision you have to make alone. In fact, you shouldn't make it alone. This... thing... we have, it includes me, too, which means I should have some say in what happens next."
Rex nodded. Of course, of course. But he still couldn't speak. He still didn't know what to do.
"And I get it. I know this life you have is hard. And dangerous. And full of risks if anyone finds out."
"Oh apparently several people have found out," Rex finally found some words he could say. He huffed in annoyance. "Tup, Kix..."
"Cody, Obi-Wan," you nodded, as if he'd known about those.
He started panting from the stress of the thought that there were now people outside of the 501st who knew. You snickered a little and started rubbing his arms soothingly.
"Thankfully it's only the people we trust," you reassured. "And thankfully there are a lot of people we trust. But to my point, I know it's risky. And I know there's challenges that will come with that kind of life. And...."
You gave him a smile, and for some reason, Rex knew that regardless of what you said next, everything would be okay. He smiled back.
"And..." he prompted, holding your hands just a little tighter.
"And even if this war goes on forever. Even if you're always a soldier, and I'm always the secret you keep hidden away. And even if you age quickly or I get sick or we're on the run or any number of other awful things happen... I think it'll be worth it."
You whispered the last part, scrunched your nose up endearingly. Rex found himself leaning forward just as you were, and you rested your foreheads against each other.
"Well, how could I disagree with that decision," was his response to the question that'd been gnawing at him for so many rotations. "I'm still... scared."
"Me, too. But we're in this together."
"Together," he agreed.
"Yes!" suddenly came a clone's voice from beyond the door. A chorus of other identically sounding hoops and hollers and "finally!" -s joined in. Rex groaned and you started laughing as a pile of 501st brothers burst through.
"I knew you'd make the right call!" Fives clapped him heavily on the back.
"Yeah, if you couldn't get the girl, ain't no hope for the rest of us," Jesse chimed in with a smirk.
"That was painful," Dogma shook disapprovingly. "You could've said all this weeks ago and saved us the angst."
"Sinker owes me fifty credits for this," said Hawk, already thumbing out a message on his holopad.
The hubbub continued and Rex squeezed your hand for reassurance amidst all the anxieties they were conjuring up. You squeezed back and simply mouthed the word together.
"Together," he repeated.
~ ~ ~
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iam93percentstardust · 6 months
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Pop Star Fics
In honor of the Eras Tour movie finally being complete on streaming, here's a rec list of (mostly) Stevetony pop star and pop star-adjacent fics 💚💛💜❤️🩵🖤🩷🩶🤎💙🤍 Anyway, we don't have enough of these in this fandom so I'm hereby declaring that we should all write more of them (I'm doing my part; I'm almost done with the Fearless era for This Life Is Sweeter Than Fiction)
Written by Others
One Step Closer by scottxlogan (E) Tony Stark was pushed into popstar fame by his ambitious father early on, but over the span of more than two decades Tony has seen the highs and lows of stardom hitting rock bottom in more ways than one. Through it all there was always one person that Tony felt was his saving grace. Steve Rogers was always the one that got away and no matter how many times they tried to cross that line into love they couldn't quite get there. As Tony's once close friend and brief roommate, Steve turned Tony's world around in all the right ways until fate intervened and they were pulled in separate directions. Now fresh out of rehab on his 45th birthday and looking to keep from making the same mistakes, Tony reflects on his past and follows his heart to new beginnings hoping that it's not too late to find his way back to Steve in his hopes for a second chance. -I love that this Tony is closer to his canon age. It's a look at the pop star life from the other side once you're not the shiniest, brightest thing on the block anymore. The smut is great, the romance is lovely, and the ending is delightful ❤️
Baby, Just Say Yes by betheflame (M) In a world where Tony's life looks a lot like Taylor Swift's, Steve realizes there always more to omegas than meets the eye. -Everything flame writes is always amazing, even the things I never in a million years thought I would like, but this is just so lovely. It's soft and sweet, and I love the take on second gender dynamics that flame explores 💛
at his side by areiton (M) He meets Steve on a Sunday, wearing his old Eagles jersey and shorts so short his Mama fusses at him, and he grins, tousled curls and a devil may care grin, bare-faced and bare foot. “Hi,” he says, and then, like an introduction is necessary, like the whole world isn’t learning his name, he adds, “I’m Tony.” -I love bodyguard AUs so much, and arei absolutely delivers with this one. Top-notch pining, great use of the non-linear narrative (which arei is always fantastic at, in my opinion), and I love how the eras were changed to fit this story 💙
Written by Me
This Life is Sweeter Than Fiction (series) A series of interconnected fics, following Tony Stark from his time as a country singer to the world's biggest pop star. Loosely inspired by Taylor Swift. -I feel weird hyping up my own fics, but if you're willing to follow me as I explore multiple relationships, second gender dynamics, and reinterpret the fandom's hatred for Tony after Civil War through the lens of the Reputation era, I feel like you'd really like this series. Like I said, I'm almost done writing the Fearless era, so that'll be coming in the next few weeks 💚
False God (E) The first time Steve meets him, Gillian has all sixteen dancers sitting in a circle on the floor of the rehearsal studio, where she makes them go around the room and introduce themselves. Tony is the youngest of them at nineteen, has two cats currently in his sister’s custody, and got his start in ballet before being so inspired by the 1989 tour that he cross trained just in the hopes that one day he could dance with Sharon. Steve had made a note of it in the way that he makes a note of everyone he works with, felt a little old because he had been a dancer on the 1989 tour and now this baby is saying he was inspired by them, and then gotten distracted by the next girl. -In which neither of them is the pop star! They're backup dancers for pop star Sharon instead, which I think is very fun of me 🩷
When Emma Falls in Love (G) “Nice?” Kamala exclaims. “It’s way past nice! It’s the cutest thing ever because his bracelet had his phone number on it! He was hoping to ask you out!” Tony blinks. Steve Rogers, All-American good boy and quarterback extraordinaire, wants to throw his hat in the ring? He wouldn’t be the first person to toss his name out there, but most of them have just tried to DM him or tag him in their posts. No one’s shown the kind of thought and effort that Steve apparently put into his declaration. It’s a level of understanding and appreciation of who Tony is and everything he’s cultivated in his career that no one else has put in. It is, to use Kamala’s word, cute. -In your life, you'll do things greater than dating the boy on the football team... or maybe not? Anyway, this is just a very fluffy romance with instantly smitten Steve and Tony 💜
Glitch (T) “Ms. Potts, my name is Steve Rogers, and I’m Justin Hammer’s roommate," Steve says. “Oh, what does that asshole want now?” she asks. “I don’t think he wants anything—except to make a quick buck and ruin Mr. Stark’s reputation.” -This is a pop star AU in the loosest definition of the word. Tony is a pop star but he doesn't get to do anything pop starry things in this AU. It's mostly about Steve, but if you like throwing popcorn at the screen whenever Justin Hammer shows up, people getting their comeuppance, and Steve being the standup guy he is, then this is the fic for you 🖤
Death by a Thousand Cuts (T) “Tony?” Pepper asks, and he can tell just by the look on her face that whatever she has to tell him, it isn’t good. “What?” he asks. She looks uncharacteristically hesitant. Pepper isn’t supposed to be hesitant. She’s supposed to be barge-in, guns-blazing, unapologetically confident. “The news leaked,” she says eventually. -One of my favorite tropes, breaking up and making up! Idk I just really like writing stories where neither of them did anything wrong, they just couldn't work things out in those circumstances, but turns out being apart is even worse 🩶
Aaaaand a bonus winteriron fic for you!
Kissed by a Muse (E) Two years ago, Bucky returned home from the war, disillusioned, injured, and angry. Two months ago, he started working at Rogers Records, recording other bands when all he wants is for his band to be the one performing. Two minutes ago, he ran into a mysterious stranger at the grocery store who argued with him over the last box of Eggos, kissed him, and ran off with the waffles. And now he can't stop thinking about him. Bucky sees him everywhere: on the album cover he's recording, walking by his sound booth. And then, as he's staying late at work one night, he hears someone singing down the hall. But that can't be right - because that's his song, one that he's never performed for anyone. He isn't really surprised though to find that it's the stranger who kissed him in the grocery store that night. Only someone who can seemingly appear and disappear like this stranger can could possibly be singing a song he's never sung for anyone. The stranger offers him a chance: a chance to get his life back on track, to perform for the owner of the biggest record company in the world, a chance to get his band back and make it big. With an offer like that, how could Bucky refuse? -If you're familiar with the 1980s film Xanadu with Olivia Newton John, Gene Kelly, and that guy from The Warriors, this is that but with Bucky and Tony being, well, Bucky and Tony 🤎
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LWA: Just some random stuff on a Sunday morning!
Missing scenes: Furfur's book of angels includes "bishop" as one of Aziraphale's jobs, and as we've already seen all the others on the list, even if only in deleted lines (the music tutor was originally in the Rome scene), I would guess we'd see that one as well. Not necessarily a good fit for 1650, though, although since Gaiman has done things like have the Bastille still standing in 1793, anything's possible.
Assumptions about character progression: I think there's a tendency to assume that Crowley and Aziraphale develop or ought to develop towards something "better" as the series progresses, but that's not quite right. They become more /complicated/, which is a neutral--dare I say grey?--concept. The novel and series both deny that good and evil are steady-state aspects of character: you /aren't/ good or evil (or something in-between), you /do/ good or evil (or something in-between). S1 Crowley, as both Gaiman and Tennant have said, has no real character arc, but one of the reasons I think the fandom needs to pay attention to my favorite bugbear, the child murder manipulation subplot, is that it is also about moral complexity. Flood-era Crowley offers the moral absolute "you can't kill kids." Armageddon-era Crowley runs Aziraphale over with a trolley problem in order to duck the more unpleasant reality that if you're fine with someone killing a kid for you, you're fine with killing kids. (I have to say that the sentimental "Crowley wuvs Warlock" headcanon is one of those instances where supposedly-positive fanon constitutes outright character assassination, right up there with "Aziraphale had an affair with Oscar Wilde" [oh, do /not/ get me started on why that's horrifying].) The series is on the side of Flood-era Crowley and Madame Tracy, not the "developed" Crowley. Meanwhile, Aziraphale learns how to lie, which is a skill that can be put to different moral purposes in different contexts. Sometimes it's unambiguously good, like saving Job's children; sometimes it's ambiguous-to-evil, like concealing the Antichrist's whereabouts from Crowley (revealing this knowledge to Crowley would mean more pressure to murder the child, but his rehearsed speech suggests that he's willing to let Heaven handle it, perhaps, which is not a viable moral alternative).
AWCW and being "impressionable": one of the funniest things about Crowley is that in some respects, he's every bit as conformist as Aziraphale is, and sometimes more so. His unreliable narration about the Fall hints very strongly that, as you say, he just went along with the "cool kids"--which, despite his protestations to the contrary, /is/ a moral failure on the terms set out by the novel and series. Even later, both Crowley and Aziraphale rebel in ways that maintain the fiction of the overarching system (the Arrangement) rather than dismantling it entirely. Crowley also enjoys his job, especially in the novel. Which, to be clear, is also a moral failure: slacking off is, hilariously, the most moral choice he and Aziraphale can make. FWIW, for me, neither the novel nor the series are "burn it all down" narratives, in part because they both advance a theory of humanity that suggests burning it all down just gets you the same thing from a different direction. The most radical political ideas are given to a conspiracy theorist and to children, and the Antichrist concludes by rejecting all of them and hitting a literal reset button. Pratchett may have co-written the book from a place of "anger," but anger can lead to a lot of different political practices. Obviously, YMMV.
LWA✨ woke up today and chose analytical violence, what a legend
1. see, i feel like 1650 could work for aziraphale's bishop occupation, even if only mentioned retrospectively. theoretically, he could well have been a bishop before the abolishment in 1646, and exploring the episcopalian polity vs presbyterianism argument of the time could be really interesting narratively (especially if handled somewhat like the resurrectionist episode)... but detail aside, even if by the time we see him in 1650 it's only mentioned casually that he was a bishop "a few years back", i don't think it would be entirely out of field. we don't necessarily need to have everything played out on screen!
2. okay, a lot to unpack here, but essentially i agree. the issue it seems to me is to posit moral absolutes in the first place; there will almost always be a contextual 'except'/'but' clause that comes along with it that turns it on its head.
it's bad to kill children, except when they are the antichrist and could bring about the apocalypse.
it's bad to lie, except when it would prevent unimaginable cruelty and grief being wrought on those that don't objectively deserve it.
it's bad to manipulate and brainwash a group of people, except when there's no lasting harm done, and you were only trying to demonstrate to someone that you love them.
it's good to try to further human medicine and prevent needless suffering, except when doing so puts the desperate as the first to fall in the figurative battlefield.
it's good to forgive a huge debt when you don't have any necessity of it being paid, except when it's primarily borne out of materialistic selfishness.
neither character does anything so completely reprehensible, or alternatively so inarguably irreproachable, that someone, somewhere, can't or won't argue a justification for their actions. we individually, according to our own moral compasses borne of our experiences, may justify or condemn what they've done in the narrative - objectively, the morality behind their actions as we've seen them so far is never absolute.
eg. for me, crowley's plan on killing the antichrist, a child, in the specific context of GO is not the condemnable action here; its the manipulation of getting aziraphale to do it because he, personally, will not do it himself. i understand why, but the thing that i personally consider to be unambiguously bad is not killing the antichrist itself, but instead the fact that crowley considers that the only solution to the hellhound being named - ignoring the 'running away' that crops up later, for a moment - is to underhandedly manipulate someone he cares about into doing it instead of him. however, others may see it differently.
who is to say what is 'better', anyway? what even is 'better'? is 'better' to do things only when it's for the benefit of other people? is doing 'better' for your own self not also worthy of consideration? is 'better' wholly only when doing something that is kind or generous to others, rather than being kind or generous to yourself?
whilst crowley hits certain moral epiphanal milestones before aziraphale does, neither have the full right of it - aziraphale should not hold morality to being plainly black or white, dictated to by a set of absolutes that are so basic and lacking in complexity that they are by all accounts redundant. and crowley should not dismiss alternative choices or solutions just because they do not fit his perspective or reasoning, nor hold that his understanding of morality is the only viable one or is the only one with any weight or validity. ep6 imo succinctly demonstrated this.
both of them are still so young at the flood. aziraphale holds that whatever has been decreed by the source 'of all that is good' must therefore be good (and choosing to not see beyond it) and crowley acts so incredulous that something he sees as being absolutely bad would ever be entertained (despite, you know, having been cast out of heaven for 'just asking questions'....). both of them by the time of job have had a pretty seismic shift in that respective naivety - aziraphale begins to question what god actually intends, and crowley acts stoutly bitter and unsurprised by the assignment. neither reactions are compatible still, they constantly circle each other, and literally indicate that some level of understanding (of god, of her will, of morality 'in the real world' itself - take your pick) is still lacking.
re: Oscar Wilde and warlock hcs (i couldn't let these stroll by without comment)... god, where to start. re: warlock, i never begrudge any hc where it's borne out of a developed fanon background. that's arguably one of the main benefits of having the fanon side of things: to develop a point/event/gap in the story for yours and others' amusement - that's cool! for this example, any fic that gives more insight into their years in warlock's life, and therefore gives legitimacy to crowley having a fondness for warlock - yep, i like that! that's awesome, i could see it as an unrealised narrative, but that's where it firmly stays, for me - in fanon.
but i do get frustrated when certain narrative points are pointedly ignored in order to establish a character trait that would otherwise not exist. crowley in canon does not - to me - demonstrate any fondness towards warlock. he literally proposes the option of his murder! i don't think him refusing to entertain killing warlock himself indicates any sentimentality towards the kid - thats a bit of a stretch, imo - but instead it reflects on his character being, put reductively, a bit of a knob sometimes.
as for aziraphale and oscar wilde... yeeaaah. i think anyone that holds that hc seriously needs to reevaluate the implications of it, and whether or not beyond professional (?) respect for his work aziraphale would willingly want to associate with him... ultimately, i refer back to my above point about "...anything so completely reprehensible...". and, respectfully, perhaps there needs to be a little more separation between michael sheen's filmography and aziraphale's narrative - whether in hc or canon.
3. right, AWCW time. i agree re: his conformity to the 'cool kid group' being something that is deserving of scrutiny on his own morality, but i feel like this only is viable once that association goes beyond a certain point (and an arguably arbitrary one at that). essentially, i think it's possible to still see AWCW's decision to associate with the group as understandable and empathetic. we know from the narrative that a) AWCW starts hanging out with them at some point, and b) that lucifer et al. are in the end considered bad people. but were they actually bad at the time that AWCW comes across them? if they were, did AWCW himself know? we don't really have enough narrative to reliably confirm this.
but we do know that AWCW fell, and it's therefore rather likely that he continued associating with them past a point where he would have known that they were Bad News Bears. in the beginning, he may have just been glad that these people seemed to listen to him and make him feel valid for having questions - that's understandable. but as time goes on, as lucifer etc. hypothetically get more and more questionable in their actions and beliefs, AWCW presumably choosing to stick with them, possibly even defending them, confers the deserving of negative judgement onto AWCW in turn (presuming there's no element of coercion or blackmail involved, mind you).
i like the point you raise of aziraphale and crowley respectively not conforming to their inherent purposes (being an angel or demon respectively) when it benefits them personally, being an almost accidental 'good thing', especially when the story puts forward that, however you look at it (ie. whether bc they are lazy, or it poses more excuses to see each other - immaterial), the arrangement is entirely self-serving. 10/10 narrative irony. but this is kinda going back to one of our first asks, LWA - it is for me once again the key difference between rebellion, and revolution:
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(never been more grateful for making the LWA masterpost, thank you past-me)
so whilst i agree to a certain point that the 'burn it all down' narrative may not be a viable option, or is at the very least a reductive one, i think that the question is what it is replaced with, if at all. adam hit the reset button and put earth back to how it was, because what humanity and earth was - by my interpretation - was just fine as it is. it's not perfect, but not worthy of being destroyed in totality.
so what can we say about heaven? is it a mirror to earth in this respect? i don't think it is. heaven may well have been intended originally as a neutral party with the best of intentions, and then pigeonholed into being the 'good side' following the fall, but it has been allowed to fester and corrupt. maybe we will see more in s3 that there are other angels that feel that heaven as a system is flawed (personally, i think we see this in saraqael's introduction to GO, but that's just my interpretation of the character so far), and maybe those angels will represent the part of heaven that is still redeemable.
so okay, yeah, maybe heaven shouldn't be completely gutted and dismantled, but it is not in the same place as earth is at the time of adam's reset. earth and humanity were arguably the innocent parties in their prospective destruction, whereas heaven has sown their own seeds for it. i don't think the two are entirely comparable. heaven does need a major realignment, and i personally don't think this can happen without some form of systematic reform, without revolution (especially if the wider fandom's evaluation of metatron is true come s3!). it needs reworking with an alternative system that works to be fairer, and removes any binary rhetoric of good vs. evil. don't ask me for the minutae of how this should happen, because i have zero idea (well, very little, anyhow), im not that clever.
but this is what i hope aziraphale will actually be successful in come s3. he can't just - in anger at the injustice of it all - set heaven on fire and walk away from the ashes; it will invite for the original regime to rebuild or something worse to take its place. that being said, it's not just him that needs to do it - to build an alternative to heaven in his own image is equally questionable. again, this is the suggestion that i liked in the armageddon 2.0 meeting in ep6; the idea of democracy in heaven, even if the current board is less than ideal (and the point could poetically hark back to the hypothetical 1650 flashback...?).
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consistentscreaming · 11 months
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I think jon would play the violin. it was another thing his grandmother signed him up for, in the hopes that it would occupy him for a while.
And occupy him it did.
The first few lessons, he hated the damn thing. It was hard, and squeaked, and he couldn't get it to work right.
then, his violin teacher invited him to a symphony with her other students. the rest of them groaned and complained about how boring it was, but as jon watched the swell of the bow , and how it floated above all the other instruments, he fell in love.
it wasn't easy. his fingers hurt. it squeaked and croaked and made all the wrong sounds, but he persevered. he joined his schools orchestra when he was older, but while the other members messed around and got distracted, he worked and perfected his part.
his old violin teacher came to his first performance, while his grandmother stayed home.
in college, he majored in english literature, but he joined the symphony, and took great pride in balancing school, a job, violin practice, rehearsal, and working up the courage to ask out the pretty girl he shared a music stand with.
he and georgie liked having the same part, but they loved having seperate parts that weaved and danced together, sometimes touching and crossing and flirting over the page.
he told her about his grandmother and his first violin teacher.
she told him how much her family liked it when she pulled out her fiddle after dinner.
she was faster than he was.
he was more precise than she was.
after they graduated and got jobs, they didn't have time for a symphony anymore, but sometimes they would pull out their violins and play a duet, just the two of them and the Admiral.
after they broke up, jon didn't touch his violin for over a year. it sat in his closet, dusty and out of tune.
the anniversary of their breakup, he pulls it out. he tunes it, and plays their duet again.
it's pretty by itself, but it feels like it's looking for something. missing its other half.
he puts the violin back into his closet.
years later, tim asks him idly if he plays any instruments. jon is quiet, before admitting that he used to play the violin.
tim asks why he stopped.
jon doesn't answer.
then, he is moved down to the archives. he starts staying later after work, and buys a cot to keep in his office.
the violin sits in his closet.
jane prentiss comes, bringing with her scars and walls between them, and when she leaves, she takes sasha with her.
as jon sits in his apartment, forbidden from returning to work, he cleans out his closet, and finds the violin. he cleans it, and tunes it. his bandaged fingers are clumsy and it hurts, but muscle memory is an incredible thing. this time, he plays his favorite piece he ever learned. it was a song he'd done in orchestra as a teenager, and it had remained one of his favorite prices since.
he stops halfway through.
he does not put the violin back into the closet.
more time passes.
he runs into his apartment, the image of a dead man seared into his brain. he grabs everything he can fit into his backpack, shoving it in as fast as he can. without thinking about it, he puts his violin into his case, and takes it with him as he flees his apartment.
later, georgie will ask him if he still plays. he will give a noncommittal answer, and she will tell him that she goes to the park sometimes to play.
he says no when she asks if he wants to join her.
late at night, he will walk into the staircase, and practice fir the first time in years. the violin flows and swells with familiar music and grace.
he finishes the peice and he does not cry.
he moves out. he gets kidnapped. he goes to china, then america, gets kidnapped again, returns home, and then jonathon sims, head archivist of the magnus institute dies in an explosion at Madame Tussaud's Wax Museum.
when he wakes up six months later, georgie will argue with him and leave.
his violin is next to his hospital bed.
he returns to the archives, and he misses people. he misses his beginning violin teacher, he misses georgie, he misses sasha, he misses tim, and he misses martin.
one night, he will wake up. someone is playing a violin somewhere in the institute.
it is his favorite piece.
he picks up his violin, and tuning it quickly, he joins the mystery violinist. the two of them play in unison, until the other violin falters, quieting. jon continues, though. he needs to finish the song.
basira will ask if he heard the violins last night.
he will nod.
two weeks after the buried, daisy will sit in his office and ask if the violin is his. he will nod. she will ask him to play something for her.
he thinks about what to play, and decides on a song he heard basira listening to.
daisy will say he sounds nice.
in the chaos after escaping the lonely, jon doesn't notice that martin is carrying a violin case until they are at the safehouse. martin will blush, and say that he's not very good.
jon will offer to to teach him.
as they walk across the landscape of fear and horror, the violins are strapped across their back. salaesa will request an old sailing tune that jon doesn't know, but martin plays it with only a few squeaks, and jon will watch, smiling.
it is a strange thing, to smile during an apocalypse.
in the tunnels, georgie will ask if he wants to play their duet.
he will admit that he's forgotten some of it.
she will smile ad say that she has also.
the rest of the tunnel people enjoyed the performance anyway.
in the rubble of the institute, there are two violins. the body of one was crushed by a peice of concrete, and the bows are nowhere to be found.
georgie, basira, and melanie will leave them there.
together.
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rhysdarbinizedarby · 1 year
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Relax, I’m From The Future
A conversation with writer-director Luke Higgingson
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Relax, I’m From The Future was a surprise fav of mine at last year’s Fantasia Fest, and it’s finally getting a theatrical release! The movie is a punk rock sci-fi comedy with a lot of wit and even more heart starring Rhys Darby (Flight of the Conchords, Our Flag Means Death) and Gabrielle Graham (Possessor, Twenties) as an unlikely duo trying, sort of, not really, to save the world. I got a chance to speak with writer-director Luke Higginson a few weeks ago about all the work that went into his debut feature. Read our (lightly edited for clarity) conversation below!
Tell me, how do you describe this movie to other people?
It’s very much my attempt to work through my anxieties about the future and the state of the world in a way that might bring me some comfort without eliminating the very real cynicism I have about it. [My short film in 2013] started as a simple joke idea — the idea of an unprepared timetraveler — and then when people sort of liked that film more than I expected, I thought about how I would make that meaningful enough to expand it. And as I noodled on that, Trump got elected, and Covid happened, a lot of terrible things happened… It really became a source of therapy for me to write this ridiculous film and pump my anxieties into it. That’s really where I found what the film was about.
There is an incredible dynamic between Rhys and Gabrielle — how did you work your story with them?
Gabriel Graham was the first person that I knew I wanted to cast [as Holly]. I saw Brandon Cronenberg’s Possessor, and she had such presence, but I didn’t know if she was funny, so I watched Twenties… it was clear she had comic chops.
For Casper [Rhys Darby’s character], you have to be on board with following him even when he does some questionable things. And also, he’s on screen for so much of the movie that it had to be someone with real energy, especially in a script that’s mostly people talking to each other. There weren’t a lot of people that I felt fit that. Then when his name was floated, it was immediately like omg holy shit that would be amazing! My producers at Wango films are phenomenally gifted at getting scripts in hands. I spent a couple of days building up a dossier of arguments for why he should do the film. And when we got on the call and he was just like “Hey, so I just wanted to meet ya and make sure you were ok with me doing this movie”, I was blown away. He had this tiny little window where we could get him for 15 shooting days and he agreed to come up [to Hamilton, Ontario] and do it. I’m still pinching myself about that, it was amazing.
In terms of working with them, because of that window of time, there was no time for rehearsal. There was barely time for Rhys to learn his lines. I got one hour of Rhys and Gabby in a room together before the first day of shooting… Something clicked, it was like Oh it’s Casper and Holly, they’re hanging out!
The scene in the playground — where the two of them are sharing a bottle of booze and talking — was incredibly cold, absurdly cold. And they were both very underdressed for that weather. They were both improving and bouncing off of each other. That was the scene where I felt like ah there’s something special between these two in particular. It was cool, it was really special, both of them are just amazing.
Wait, the shooting schedule was only 15 days?
We had Rhys for 15 days, and we shot for 18 days, but Rhys is in almost all of the movie.
How did the music in the movie play into writing your story and how did you manage to clear all those songs?
I knew a ton of people in the Toronto indie-rock punk scene and I always knew that if I ever got to make a movie, I knew all these great songs that no one knows. I listened to a lot of that stuff writing the film — Holly being part of the punk scene was very important to the character. I gave [Gabrielle] a playlist of a bunch of 70s CBGB stuff, she watched a documentary on Poly Styrene. That really embodied the vibe of the music. I wanted it to be all Toronto music on the soundtrack, it’s basically a split between songs from bands that I played with or went to see back in the day and bands that are still operating right now. The big coup was getting Pup involved, which was really exciting. They didn’t have to say yes at all, but they really were big fans of Rhys and [because of Covid] I think they were a little itchy to get on stage in front of a bunch of people. We got to use a few of their songs, as well as Metz and Bad Waitress and a couple of other great bands.
In terms of the licensing side what I didn’t expect as a problem was that many of those bands no longer exist and never had any kind of official existence in terms of paper work or legality, so I perhaps foolishly did not see that coming as a problem. Anagram, Sailboats Are White, Lunchmeat — all great bands that I love, but [licensing their songs] was a trickier thing than I thought it was gonna be.
What are some of the challenges or joys that you encountered in the editing room, putting this thing together?
The editing process was long, longer than I expected. My baby was 6 months old when we started shooting, which was a real challenge for me and my wife. I literally edited the film with my baby next to me, so it took a while. But really, it was about matching the film to Rhys’s rhythm. When we [cast] Rhys, who’s one of the best improvisers comedically in the world, I knew that [for the edit] I was gonna want both sides of the conversations he has with Gabby. So any time that Rhys is talking to another person, there’s two cameras going at the same time and that really allowed us to use the little moments of inspiration and improvisation. If Rhys gives you a piece of gold, you know that you have it covered. That was big, I think both in the shooting and in the editing.
Time travel can be a tricky narrative device! How did you build the rules of this universe?
I knew right off the bat that I was neither capable nor interested in doing something scientifically “accurate”, but you also don’t want the audience to feel like you don’t give a shit. It has to feel like there’s an internal consistency. So my guiding principle was that rules of time travel are going to be what serves the humour and the story, and then once I have those things, to make sure it’s internally consistent. It actively subverts what I felt was the most common tropes — like in Terminator, you have to be naked to travel through time, in my movie you have to have no skin showing of any kind. In most time travel movies you can go back and forth, in mine you can only go back. When drafting it out, I went with the ideas that I found funny, then once I had the beats, I worked very hard to make sure it was internally consistent within that.
What was screening your film at Fantasia like?
It was incredible, I can’t say enough good things about Fantasia. I wanna shout out programmer Carolyn Mauricette, who saw a very rough cut of the film without any of the sound mix or special effects. She saw it, she got it, she connected to it. It just meant so much, that phase of the editing process, you’re very emotionally fragile, you have no idea if you’ve made something that works or not, and that was such a vote of confidence.
What are you hoping people take away from this?
I am genuinely very excited for people to see Rhys do this. I feel like he uses some muscles that you don’t get to see him use normally, he’s such a star. And I think Gabriel Graham is incredibly slept on, like she’s a successful actor but I think way more people should know her. I’m gonna sit in on a bunch of screenings — I never need to watch the movie again, but I do love watching the audience watch it, and there are some moments in the back third of the movie that I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing an audience react to.
I didn’t even ask you about Julian Richings!
He’s incredible! I got him [cast as Percy] by recording a video begging him to be in the movie because he’s a legend! I first saw him in Hard Core Logo when I was a teenager, he’s so captivating. So ya, I recorded a shameless message and sent it to him, and luckily he is the sweetest man in the world, just the easiest person in the world to work with — I can’t say enough nice things about him.
I think this movie has a lot for a lot of different crowds of people — you got the gays, you got the nerds, you got the horror fans -
Those are all my people! Those are my favourite type of people!
I’m excited for people to see it!
Me too!
Source: Bad Critic
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I have reason from the dead (sleep) to drop more lore.
The start of MiniMegs, which has been building in the background.
Rodimus's six months depressive isolation moment that no one talked about in which he worked solely from his bedroom is interupted not by his corpse but within a month of departing Cybertron they get hailed by the Peaceful Tyranny and he, Megatron, and Ultra Magnus are freaking out preparing for a fight staging the landing platform like a fre for all battle like they did with Overlord.
Only instead of fighting, Tarn and the DJD in a synchronized and definitely practiced movement (except the small blue Minibot, that's new who is slightly slower) drop to one knee in front of him, declaring they are here to follow their Lords example and wise words and as he has seen fit to seek out the Knights of Cybertron to seek their Wisdom in judging him and that these mechanisms are apparently worthy of sharing in his journey they will of course escort him and the Lost Light while learning from his and the Autobots assembled here, clearly the best of the best of they are escorting their Lord, how to move on and make Peace not War.
It is clearly very rehearsed, incredibly theatrical like something from a period drama and both not at all what anyone was expecting and very damning for Megatron who is supposed to be person non grata to Decepticons now. So he doing some quick mental gymnastics on how to handle this and reject them without setting anyone off when Rodimus comes barrelling forward having smelled weakness, missing his own former Decepticon, senses they are sincere if definitely shady (his exact type), and having not slept since Cybertron.
He graciously excepts citing that they aren't the first former Decepticons or neutral agents on the ship, but, of course, the ship is under Autobot Law and they would need to pass the same test any defector passes to prove they can do it and then looks at Ultra Magnus, who is horrified but automatically starts citing requirements to qualify.
Which Tarn counters quickly, offering up datapads and citing lines within the Tyrest Accord that legalize his Squad under Decepticon Law, offer some intel, and is confident they can pass the test which UM is familiar with given he'd worked within it before as both sides were under the TA.
What follows is a very tense hour of the DJD sitting taking the Autobot SATs while everyone stands their tense. Every comment, including Helex singing a stufy song under his breath and Vos muttering to himself, or movement, Teserus counting with his fingers as he figure out and answer and Tarn tapping to the rhythm of their theme song, makes everyone flinch.
(This is of course after Whirl mutters, "You're fucking joking." When Magnus brought out the test papers.
Tailgate meanwhile is sympathizing with Helex's struggle on Question 17 with Cyclonus noting the song would have been useful to learn.)
Finally they pass and are tenporarily shown to their ship to wait while its graded and a surprise Command Meeting ensues.
MiniMegs are actually yelling and arguing because Ultra Magnus is utterly convinced this is a plot against them as he doesn't trust Megatron yet and Megatron is defending himself trying to explain the DJD are genuinely just like that and overzealous while Rodimus watches the ping pong conversation with relish and then grinning asks if they passed.
Ultra Magnus, through clenched teeth admits, "Yes. And Tarn's essay on certain elements was particularly inspired, especially the portion on self-identification and removal of leftover protofunctionalist language I will be quoting to the board as he has eloquently risen concerns I have attempted to cite before. Nickel, the Minibot, has also supplied a scathing essay on bodily autonomy not being accurately covered that I will be asking be submitted to the Medical Board."
Megatron doesn't quite understand UM ironclad rules are rules and attempts to convince, all silver words and charm, them to allow him a moment to persuade the DJD to leave but then UM locks down that they are required to accept anyone requesting asylum and as they have passed they are considered proto-Autobots and will need to be assessed by Rung and mentored.
They follow procedure unlike some.
(Ultra Magnus's bitterness over Drift and Megatron's inclusion in their ranks does in fact come from a place of them not having gone through proper onboarding.)
Thus they start at each other's throats.
And then Nickel mentions the Autobot they "found" and everything goes even more tits up because that's Minimus's perfect big brother.
Cur bluescreen.
(MiniMegs Part 1)
So
Wait yes this so yesssssss
"(MiniMegs Part 1)"
This is a wild ride and I feel like it's gonna continue to be because holy shit yes
Poor Megatron is wondering how he'll explain so hard that this isn't some plot of his to start the war again when Roddie just damn swoops in like a Lightning McQueen flavored phoenix.
Tarn held so many study sessions to prepare for the autobot test, damn I'm actually wondering how good of a study buddy he would be because you're certainly gonna learn the topic.
Ohhh Mags, Megs... You two are gonna be dragged under just like the rest of us— no mech will be unaffected by the end of this lmao.
Everyone is bluescreening and Tarn and Roddie are sitting in in the corner making goo goo optics at each other
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your OCs are invited/challenged to do something like Naked & Afraid: who agrees? what would it take for any of the others to agree?
Ooooh, interesting! Thank you!
Rae: On the one hand, she's always down for a new adventure and there's very few things she wouldn't try at least once. On the other hand, she doesn't have much survival training and wouldn't be thrilled about having her uncovered body just broadcast on television, so I really can't tell with her. It really depends on the timing of it and how she feels about it.
Robin: Pass. Really not her thing. She's never been much of a wilderness person, there's a lot of risk just... for fun? Without much real gain? She'd do her best with wilderness survival if it really mattered, like for her genuine safety or survival, but I can't see her signing up just for fun. She has opera rehearsals to get to!
Madison: Wilderness survival is kind of her thing, and the premise of the challenge would absolutely intrigue her. She's not thrilled about the "naked" part, especially since the premise of the show is that your survival partner is a stranger (I think she'd be more likely to sign up for Alone than Naked & Afraid), but I could definitely see her enjoying a challenge like that. Hell, she lived like that for five years!
Ophelia: Absolutely not. She's always been a city girl, she'd hate to be without technology for longer than a few days, and that's not even accounting for her bad knee and the challenges that would prove. I could see her researching some survival tips just in case, but she's definitely not signing up for the show.
Gia: Absolutely not. You think the girl who can barely leave her home due to intense unresolved anxiety issues is going to spend three weeks in the middle of nowhere without even clothes to wear? She'd probably laugh in your face if you suggested it, but she wouldn't want to be rude.
Jasper: Hm... another tough one. They grew up out in the bayou (the boonies, as they'd say) and have been camping a few good times, so brushing up on those survival skills wouldn't take too much, but... the whole "naked and afraid" concept wouldn't be great for their dysphoria, especially on camera, and they'd rather be back at their warm, cozy apartment with Kyle and their pets
Kestrel: Oh, in a heartbeat. Like Madison, wilderness survival is a big tenet to who they are and they'd excel at the challenge. Really, the hardest part would just be remembering not to shapeshift or use magic on camera.
Katherine: Eh, no thanks. It's an interesting premise, but really not within her interests or capabilities. She wouldn't mind trying out for some game show or other TV show, but it wouldn't be a survival show
Quinn: Nope. Similar to Ophelia's, really - the combination of living her whole life in an urban setting and just physically not being fit for a hardcore survival situation like that.
Eris: Sure, why not? It's been a while since they've been in the thick of true wilderness survival, but he won't shy away from a good challenge (and you know she wouldn't be at all self-conscious about the "naked" part lol). Honestly, I could see him trying to get Rick in on it too, like Eris' weird idea of a couple's retreat lmao
Nikoletta: Hard pass. She's never been a wilderness kind of person, she has no interest in learning, and especially not now. She's finally at the point in her life where she is comfortable and safe, why would she give that up just for some gimmicky show? No thanks. She'd rather be safe at home, cuddled up with Abner and the cats.
Jimmy: Disqualified for being a ghost, there's no point.
Vivienne: Disqualified bc TV doesn't exist in her time.
Spider: Pre-apocalypse, I think he'd probably go for it, honestly. He enjoys trying new things, and this seems like a neat opportunity. He'd struggle to be surrounded by so many unique sounds and not have his tape recorder, and he'd definitely need to do some wilderness survival training before he signed up, but I could see him giving it a go.
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Text
Daminette Corpse Bride AU
Well AU-ish
Original Post
So we left off in the land of the living and learned that Marinette's groom is hoping She's not found so he doesn't have to get his hands dirty.
In comes in either Luka or Felix (whichever fits your preference) as they have known the Dupain-Cheng's for some time.
For drama purposes, they could have romantic feelings for Marinette or you go the platonic love route where they are there to see if her groom is worthy of their friend. (He's definitely not worthy.)
When they arrive, they hear the news bellower shouting out the most recent news while ringing the bell.
"EXTRA! EXTRA! The only daughter of the Dupain-chengs goes missing after disastrous rehearsal!"
That has them booking it to the bakery where both families are sitting together trying to figure out how to find Marinette.
However, they notice that it her groom seems to have no interest in finding her as he seems to be zoning everything out. That pisses them off.
After introductions are made, they ask the groom to walk with them, in the guise of finding and clues as to where Marinette could have gone.
They reach the church and go around back to see if there's anything there, and that when Luka/Felix pin her groom to the wall.
"What the hell is your problem?! Your bride is missing, and you don't seem the least bit worried! Don't you love her?! Marinette is an amazing girl, and anyone would be lucky to have her as their partner!"
"If I didn't know any better I would say you love my bride. If she's such an amazing girl as you say then why don't you marry her?" - The groom
This pisses off Luka/Felix more, resulting in the groom getting a black eye.
Now this seem entertaining to the groom, and now wants to marry Marinette out of spite. Just to rub it in their faces.
Perhaps marriage does has its benefits.
When they get back to bakery, they fawned over Marinette's groom. Which he resumed them the black eye was caused by his own clumsiness.
Luka/Felix really don't like him.
In the land of the dead:
Marinette is honestly kinda terrified, but at the same time living her best life
Ever since spending time with the Wayne family she's seen a change with herself.
She's more outgoing and relaxed around them. Especially with Damian.
She honestly thinks that perhaps if she met Damian when he was alive, she would choose to marry him instead.
Damian and Marinette spend a lot of time together. He discovers her interests, the things that make her laugh, her fears, and the fire that hides within her heart.
When he told of her of his family's demise. She didn't show sympathy but rather angled that someone would do such a thing to them. Especially after learning all the good they did for their community.
It almost looked like she was about to commit murder.
Just when he thought he couldn't fall for her anymore.
Meanwhile his family are spying from a reasonable distance. Some are even hiding in some of the coffins lying around the area.
They are so invested in this relationship. More than they should be.
"I never seen baby bird fall this hard for someone before" - Dick
"Tell me about it. He didn't even show half of the emotion he's showing her to his ex-fiance" - tim
"She could do better." - Jason
"Shut up, Jason" practically everyone in the batfam
"Fuck you!" - jason
Don't get Jason wrong her loves the "demon spawn," and loves Marinette, bit he's a realist.
He's read the vows, and come on, Damian's a dead dude.
"Till death do us part." Dpnes anyone else remember that line? No? Just him? OK then.
He really hates the fact that they are setting themselves for heartache.
One day, Marinette asks Damian why they haven't moved on yet.
He tells her it is because he knew his family was so excited to see him get married, and when it was about to happen, they all died. He wanted to make them proud, and show them that they didn't need to worry about him no more.
"Eell, if you want I could marry you." - Marinette
"I couldn't ask that of you Marinette," - Damian
"But I want to." - Marinette
Damian swears his long since dead heart skipped a beat .
They announce the wedding and Marinette says it will be upstairs.
Everyone is excited.
Cue the scean where everyone is getting ready for the wedding here.
In the land of the living
Everyone is freaking out the dead is brought back to life.
Then, realise they mean no harm. Live relatives get to spend some time with those who have long since passed.
Luka/Felix see Marinette in her wedding dress in the crowd of the dead and can't help but feel a sense of dread wash over them
Her original groom sees the Wayne family with Marinette and can't help but feel fear and anger.
At the church, the ceremony is being held when Luka/Felix come in when they said speek now or forever hold your peace woth her original groom in tow
* insert shocked wedding guests here*
A dual breaks out between luka/Felix between Damian.
Marinette's original groom hold her back to keep her from interfering. He's high-key hoping that Luka/Felix die
Some how they talk it out during the dual and Damian realizes that luka/Felix what the same thing as him; for Marinette to be happy.
He turns to Marinette, and getting a good look at her original groom, he says their name.
"Hello, Damian. It's funny seeing you and your family here when you should all be 6 feet under." - Marinette's original groom, he says, pulling out a knife and holding it up against Marinette's throat.
It is here we find out the Original Groom and his family worked for the Wayne's and where the ones to poison them.
Turns out the original groom was greedy, always wanting what he couldn't have. Thus, he manipulated his family to help him commit murder and steal the Wayne family fortune.
He fights with the Wayne's + Luka/Felix and is able to hold his own.
He tires and gives Marinette up,
congratulating her on having such great mates.
They all glare at him and watch as he drinks from the chalice that Damian told Marinette only he would drink from.
*insert dying noises here*
Everyone dead minus the the Wayne's and Alfred go to give Marinette's original groom a "warm welcome"
Spoiler: it was not welcoming at all.
Marinette hugs luka/felix as Damian watches.
Damian sees she's in good hands and can't help but feel at peace knowing that.
Turing to him, Marinette asks if he still wants to continue the wedding, but he says no.
Little my little he and his family start to turn into butterfly.
Damian then tells her that he no longer wishes to be married bow that he is happy and at peace. It is then revealed that that is why the rest of his family stayed behind.
All they wanted was to finally see him happy.
Marinette gave him a bone crushing hug which he reciprocated, and one by one the rest of his family joined in.
Marinette cries when they all disappeared, and all that was left between her arms was air.
Luka/Felix held her until she felt better.
After the event her original groom's family was held accountable as accomplices to murder.
The Dupain-Cheng bakery saw an influx of customers and were able to expand their business, with the help of Luka/Felix
Marinette happily stays single, and lives out her wildest dreams.
Maybe even adopts in the future
Alternative ending 1:
Marinette and luka/Felix spend more time together after the event
Slowly fall I'm love
Marinette is still able to live out her dreams with a supportive partner.
They get married
Alternative Ending 2:
Rather than moving on Damian and his family come back to live, able to once more walk amongst the living.
"If I had a nick for every time I died and was brought back to life, I'd have two Nicole. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it's happened twice," Jason
"The first time doesn't count as it was faked," tim
"I'm alive! How many years has it been? Do you think Barbara and Wally are older than me now or..., " Dick, just happy to be alive and able to contact friends.
Duke and Cass are smiling, happy to be alive, and for Marinette and Damian, finally able to be together.
Damian is hugging Marinette happy he is able to hold her in his arms. Happy that he can be with her
Alfred and Bruce have to interupt them, so they can formally meet Marinette's family, and press charges against her original grooms family.
A year later Marinette is walking aboung the aisle with her father.
Luka/Felix is her best man
Damian feels like he's the luckiest man in the world.
Alternative Ending 3:
The boys don't make it on time to object.
Marinette decides she'd rather be with someone eho makes her happy.
He drinks from the Chalice even though Damian tried to talk her out if it.
" I'd rather be with you in death rather than later marry someone who I can not bring myself to feel the way I do when I am with you." - Marinette
"Are you sure this is what you want?" - Damian
Marinette smiles and drinks from the chalice.
When the boys arrive, those of the dead are long gone, and so is Marinette
She and the Wayne's live happily ever after in the afterlife.
The end.
Tags:
@zalladane @draco-kasai @heldtogetherbysafetypins @emilykeys
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look-at-the-soul · 2 years
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Look at the soul- Part 5 I run to you
Cillian Murphy x reader
Series Master list
🎭 These two are getting closer! I hope you like this story and if you do, your feedback is highly appreciated.
Thank you @heidimoreton once more for the moodboard you created for this story! 🥰 I wish you could know for real how much it means to me, you captured the essence perfectly and your theater input has been a great help!
And we get to meet a new character today too! Please note using the readers names, is as a thank you! For your constant support and encouragement to this or any other of my stories and it doesn’t reflect the reader/writer’s reality or background 💕 I’m just adapting their names to fit the storyline.
Song: I run to you by Lady A
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Marianne adjusted her coat over her chest, the weather seemed to change a lot during the day, now it looked like the rain would start to fall at any minute.
“Hello Marianne!” Greeted the owner of the café leaning against the brick wall, she was finishing her cigarette.
“Hi Alex -I-know-your-name’s-not-Alex.” She joked, anticipating the usual reply the girl with rebel hair gave.
“Oh, damn you won my answer now I can’t use it.” Both girls laughed at the inside joke they started to share every time she visited the coffee shop. “Are you getting your usual?”
“Yeah, I’m just dropping my bag at the theater first, and then I’ll come back.”
“Perfect then, can’t wait to show you the new mugs with quotes I got, it was a great idea!”
Marianne smiled at her, they clearly spent a good amount of time chatting. “I’m sure you’ll have to order more.”
And with that she walked one more block, until she was in front of the theater, in an unusual turns of event, that venue ended up feeling so close to home, giving her the opportunity to learn new things, meet incredible people and do something she never imagined she would be doing, she now knew her spot, learned a bunch of things and terms she had never seen in her life, how to move on stage… Marianne kept staring at it for a few minutes until she reached the steps and noticed a couple of people waiting outside.
“Are you here for the auditions too?” A girl pulled her from her thoughts.
Marianne shook her head. “No, I already got a part.” She felt like saying she had the leading role was a bit presumptuous, it still felt surreal.
“Really? That’s so cool! This is the first audition I go to, took some time off, so I’m freaking about it.”
“I’m sure you’ll do it amazing, trust your talent.” She tried to help her ease her nerves, just like Cillian and everyone else had helped her. “I’m Marianne.”
“Lee.” The girl answered. “Thanks.”
“What role are you auditioning for?”
“One of the women, you know.” She added moving her fingers as the quote marks.
“You’ll get the role, I’m sure. Best of luck, even though I’m sure you don’t need any.”
Lee thanked her as Marianne walked into the theater, the door to the stage was closed so she walked through another way, stopping midway as she found a photo that caught her attention, one she hadn’t seen before.
“You’ll probably say you won and arrived earlier, but I’m sure I won this time.” Cillian joked about an inside joke they had of who arrived earlier to rehearsal and approached her. “How was school?”
And her face lit up. “Great! In one of my clases we already got a business case of a company with all the financial information, each week we’ll get different balances like the Cash Flow statement, revenue, expenses… to build a financial strategy that fits their needs better.”
“That’s amazing.” She talked about it as if he knew a shit about the meaning, but he smiled and asked more about her assignments. And he loved to learn more about her world.
“One of my Professors won the Economic Nobel Price a few years ago.” She stated, excitement oozing through every pore.
“That’s impressive, I’m sure you’ll make the most out every course.”
Cillian had invited her to see the auditions, he mentioned it was one of the greatest way to learn acting tricks and tips from each performance, so she was really excited and willing to do anything in the books to improve.
“You kept this a secret.” Marianne pointed at the photo hanging from the wall, with a younger Cillian.
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He blushed and looked down, hiding his hands in the pockets of his jeans, too self conscious, avoiding his portrait staring back at them.
“You know, Heidi recommended me watching a few plays could help me… your performances are out of this world. Remarkable.” She didn’t want to overdo with the compliments, but his performances weren’t just completely different from one character to another, but also he seemed to be like a different person. “I’ve a lot to learn from you.”
He was truly an institution in theater, a great mentor to her, she was really grateful for all the time he was dedicating to help her improve.
“Thank you, it means a lot.” He looked at her, feeling so humble about her words.
But Marianne disliked uncomfortable silences and as she stared back at the photograph, one thing kept running in her mind…
“In this photo you look like you’re part of the movie Interview with a vampire.” She couldn’t stop the words flying out of her mouth.
And Cillian couldn’t stop the laugh that was produced from the deepest part of his soul.
“I can’t remember the last time I saw him laughing like that.” Heidi pointed out to Enda as the pair stepped into the theater.
Enda squinted his eyes while he cleaned his glasses with his shirt. “Yup, it’s been a while.”
“I’ve bad news… Laureen, I tried to talk to her about the leading role, but she was adamant to be in LATS* with the main role.”
The screenplay writer shook his head. “We got that role covered.”
“I tried to make her understand she would get a good role here and she could get back her leading role for the next play, but she said no.” Heidi looked between Enda and Cillian and Marianne, a few meters away.
“Most of the people from the previous play are staying right?”
“Yes, but we need to choose soon to complete the cast, so I booked all the castings already, we start in twenty.”
“My Adria.” Enda left all his worries behind as the pair walked towards them.
“Sorry I didn’t get the memo.” Marianne looked from Cillian to Enda, both dressed in striped tshirts and black jeans.
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Heidi snorted.
“Are you teaching her about theater or how to tease like you?” Enda faked an insulted look and turned to Cillian.
“Man I didn’t say anything!”
As Heidi left them to organize the audition, Marianne asked if she could see the performances from one of the seats in the boxes.
Taking the opportunity that they were left alone, Cillian took the chance to speak with his friend about something that had been running in his mind.
“I need to ask you for a favor.”
“I don’t babysit.” Enda jumped to declare.
Cillian rolled his eyes. “It’s about the contract, I need you to switch Marianne’s salary with mine.”
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Enda’s head snapped to look at his friend. “It’s the amount we’ve agreed for you.”
Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Cillian lowered his voice. “She has offers from Google and Amazon for her grades, what makes you think what you’re paying her is enough? It barely covers for expenses.”
“I can’t compete with companies like that, you know it.”
“All I’m saying is, if she gets a better offer and decides to take it, what will you do with her character? We’re weeks away from the big opening.” Cillian pondered.
Enda seemed stressed out with every second passing by. “Why?” Enda wanted to ask why was he willing to cut down his own salary over someone who wasn’t a professional actress. But he left those words hanging in the air.
Internally, Cillian was asking himself the same question.
“Because I want her in this play as much as you do. And you need to remember how you trusted me back then for a play nobody believed in years ago.”
***
“This is indescribable.” Marianne whispered watching the actors move across the stage as Cillian joined her in the box. “They’re so professionals.”
Her point of view was so refreshing, for him it was like rediscovering theater for the first time.
“Can’t wait till the cast is complete, to finally do a proper rehearsal, you’ll love it.” Cillian could already imagine the venue full of people, the lights off…
She took notes and asked him endless questions during the auditions, until they came down, ready to go to the café to keep working on her character. But Marianne stopped a few rows behind Enda, looking at the woman on stage.
“Do you know her?” Asked Cillian in a low voice.
“I just met her earlier today, but she was really nice… she seems to be more the type for the role of the waitress if you ask me.” That role was fundamental for Adria, since the character would be the one suggesting her to use her beauty to get the money she needs to help the prostitutes, and she would be also Adria’s confident.
“Why?”
“Because that role needs to reflect someone you can trust, someone who helps Adria to see the positive side when she’s struggling with her demons.”
Cillian stared silently at the woman on stage, reading the lines for one of the prostitutes complaining about not finding anything.
Trying to not disturb the process, he took a seat behind Enda, leaning against the row of seats in front of him. “Did you find the waitress already?”
Enda shook his head first, then let out a loud sigh, still taking notes about the on going audition.
“Why don’t you try her for the role? Maybe you’ll find your Rebeca.”
Turning around in his seat, Enda gave him a long look, then looked back at Marianne, who was making him a pleading sign with her hands.
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
Mumbling something to himself, Enda stopped the lecture and asked Lee to change her character. She immediately moved to gather the tray and empty glasses focused as the man leaning on the bar of the club complained about not getting Adria’s attention.
“Barry, Barry…” she shook her head dramatically, pretending to pour him a drink. “You don’t understand what a woman needs.”
“What does she wants then? I gave her a sapphire!”
“If I’ve to explain her… then Adria’s not the one for you.”
Later after finishing her shift a the bar, Rebeca rushed to Adria’s flat.
“Barry told me he gave you a gift.” She poured them the remaining of the bottle of wine, a luxury these days and accepted one of the sandwiches Adria prepared.
“Yes.” Adria sighed. “But why do I want that for? I gave it to the doctor who attended Rainbow, I didn’t have any money to help her, he told me he’d give it to his wife and he would pay Rainbow’s hospital bill.”
“God, she got a terrible beating.” Rebeca stated. “I don’t know how you do it… after all the troubles you’ve been through.”
“Someone once told me that no matter how much damage the world causes, you shouldn’t let your heart turn into stone.” Marianne murmured Adria’s words, most of the script now in the back of her mind, and watching it through Lee’s performance was a completely different turn.
Enda turned around in his seat, staring at Cillian with open eyes, a big smile on display. Standing up from his place in the front row, he rushed to the stairs on the side of the stage.
Cillian turned then, to look at Marianne, a wide smile reaching his eyes, “looks like we found Adria’s best friend. Well done.”
It was now Marianne’s turn to blush. Sometimes the intensity of his eyes was too much, so she decided to suggest a visit to their regular café to keep practicing her lines, tones, she had a lot of things to keep up, to learn…
“How are you enjoying Ireland?” Cillian asked as she took a sip of her coffee. “Have you done the beer tour yet?”
But she shook her head. “I mean, I’ve been to the factories and done the tour, but I skipped the tasting.”
Cillian leaned back as if he had been hit by a truck.
“You don’t drink?”
“Occasionally, yeah a glass of wine or a martini, but I don’t like beer.” She scrunched up her nose in a way that made Cillian laugh, but his good mood quickly changed as his phone interrupted their chat.
“’Lo?” Marianne saw his features tense suddenly, followed by a firm no. He walked then to the back of the café, to an empty spot, during a few minutes, Marianne decided to focus on the script and the notes she had been doing, but her eyes decided to do something different and she found herself sending quick glances at Cillian, the man who had been helping her build a confidence on stage she didn’t know she had, showing her how to articulate properly so the soul siting in the last row of the theater would be able to understand her dialogue… but that was just one side of him, the other part was a complete mystery.
I run from prejudice
I run from pessimists
“Sorry, you were saying?” He took his place in front of her one more time, thanking the boy who arrived to pick up their empty cups.
“Everything alright?”
But I run too late
I run my life
Or is it running me?
Run from my past
In an instant, his eyes screamed that no, things weren’t fine. And he found himself shaking his head, after taking a deep breath, Cillian intertwined his fingers over the table and decided to open a door he rarely held open for other people, he told her that his wife passed away a little over a year ago and how he had completely focused in his sons ever since, canceling several projects in the process, he talked about how his family didn’t think twice to help him with everything; school runs, food, everything they needed, sometimes even stepping on the line, making him feel useless, he talked about his sons and the things they liked to do and for a brief moment, his eyes seemed to sparkle.
This world keeps spinning faster
Into a new disaster, so I run to you
But then he mentioned Andrew wanted to go somewhere on a school night, that was the call he just got, and by saying no, he was automatically the worst parent of the year.
She now was able to understand the sadness she found occasionally in his eyes, rare moments like flashes, but she definitely had seen them there, in the surface.
“I’m really sorry.” She offered her sincere condolences and an apologetic look.
“The hardest part is… thinking am I doing it right? Am I educating them well? I’m torn between been too soft or too strict, there’s no point in the middle.”
And she listened as he expressed out loud for the first time his fears and doubts of being a good parent, of not being there enough for his kids, for dropping his career to focus on his family, he might even had been a bit rude to his sisters and mother at some point.
“I’m sure you’re doing it great, you probably worry more than you should, but that’s part of being a parent.” Marianne tried to comfort.
And when it all starts coming undone
Baby you’re the only one I run to
Cillian leaned his head against his palm, over the table and finally, looked at her.
By the look of his eyes, he didn’t believe her.
“If you give yourself to your kids the same way you’re giving it all into this play, I can assure you, you’re doing a good job.” She insisted. “And I think you should accept all the help you can get… you shouldn’t carry out all of it by yourself.”
Cillian realized then, that he never talked to anyone like this.
He stared at her, directly into her eyes. How did he end up talking to her about such an intimate thing like his grief? When did he open up his heart to her like that? To trust her with things he didn’t dare to say to anyone else?
“I can’t just break right in front of them.” He shuddered, used to the constant pressure now. “Like what will happen when my family stops helping? What the fuck am I supposed to feed them 24/7?”
“Cillian one day it will blow up. Right in your face.”
He sighed. “I just want to raise them right.”
“I’m sure they are good people, having you as the role to follow…”
Cillian gave her a sad smile. “All they say is yeah, whatever,” he imitated, ��and then their noses are glued to their phones.”
“If you’ve been a good father, which I’m sure… sooner or later they’ll go back to you.”
Having someone tell him he was doing a good job was a balm to his heart, in a non cocky way, he was relieved to hear some positive words.
“Thank you for listening to my shit,” he now felt slightly embarrassed, “I feel a lot lighter now.”
He really did, she didn’t seem to be judging him despite his sudden outburst of parental panic, no, she helped him put his feet on the ground and focus on things that really mattered.
Placing her palm over his arm in a soothing motion, she wanted to give him back all the things he was helping her with, but this was different. Oblivious to her worries, Cillian stared at her hand still on his arm as he felt a comfort he didn’t found in anyone before, something ignited.
But when Marianne removed her hand, he had to stop himself from reaching out and place it back to where it was. Instead he saw her looking at the window, it had been enough of him, so he decided to change the topic. “Are you ready to do the lecture with the whole cast?”
“Ugh, don’t tell me or I’ll get nervous.”
Cillian chuckled, easing her nerves. “You’ve nothing to worry about, you’ll do it amazingly!”
“Ow stop flattering me, I’m just a rookie.”
“You’re learning everything at a surprisingly pace, trust me… now I’m going to tell you something that might help you bring to life Adria and take her to the next level.” He leaned forwards as if he would be sharing a secret.
Marianne mirrored his move.
“Take a look at photographs, magazines… anything that makes you think of Adria.” Cillian smiled when he saw the way she was processing his words. “Think of a mirror breaking, pearls, a lioness… that’s how I see her protecting the prostitutes just as they will later protect her back, quotes also can help you, the more visual you can make it, the better.”
“As some kind of collage?” Marianne asked enthusiastically, already seeing it in her mind. Cillian nodded. “I like it!”
“It might sound simple, but small things like that can help you get in the right mindset of your character, you’ll focus Adria better…” he encouraged her. “Actually, I can already see her already in the back of your mind, you just need to bring her to the front row.”
Surprised, Marianne leaned back, crossing her leg she asked; “do you think so?” A head tilt and holding his gaze and Cillian felt goosebumps running up and down his body.
“That,” Cillian snapped his fingers and then pointed one at her, “that’s Adria’s look.”
He knew it from the start, Marianne just needed a little push.
****
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A/N: LATS= short version for Look at the soul ☺️ the title got long haha 😆 hope you enjoyed this part 🎭♥️
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Nancy Gryspeerdt: On my second day earwigging for Michael Gambon, I found myself lying under the bed in which the legend of stage and screen was portraying Winston Churchill. It was 2015, and we were on the set of Churchill’s Secret. Hidden this way, I was out of view for the camera, but not out of earshot, so I could shout out his lines for him to repeat. The idea was we’d cut my bellowing out of the scene afterwards. Earwigging is the process of reading an actor’s lines into a microphone. These are then fed into a tiny earpiece in the actor’s ear. The tech is imperfect and sometimes it fails, as it had that day when I was forced to improvise by hiding under the bed. Certain movie stars are said to opt for an earpiece purely to save the time and effort of learning lines, but I find that hard to believe. Line-by-line feeding is tricky. It can cause random pauses and actors often look distracted as they listen. The frustration Michael felt about the whole process was profound.
Michael had lost the ability to learn lines several years before. He would often recount how he’d been rehearsing Alan Bennett’s play The Habit of Art at the National Theatre in 2010 and suddenly collapsed, in fear. Memory decline was what he was afraid of, a slippery slope he would indeed begin to slide down. He was replaced in The Habit of Art and only returned to theatre once more in a one-man play, Krapp’s Last Tape, that relied upon his recorded voice more than live monologue. Developing a method for memorising and recalling lines is part of every actor’s practice. For all but the most demanding jobs, it’s a basic requirement before the real work begins, not a proof of acting talent. Occasional lapses happen, like an ill-timed cramp might for an athlete. But when an actor loses the ability to learn lines, it’s a career-ending injury. If you don’t have your lines, it is all you can think about.
Becoming an earwig hadn’t been my plan. Before stepping in to cover for Michael’s regular earwig in her absence, I was a director’s assistant and budding script editor. I got the gig because the director saw how much I loved watching actors work. It is a very well-paid role, partly, I think, because everyone involved feels reassured by the extortionate fees, as they might by paying a Harley Street doctor. The plot of Churchill’s Secret centred on the ailing prime minister being brought back from the brink after a stroke by the tough love and care of a young nurse. It’s possible that at the time of my peculiar meet-cute with Michael, the part of the nurse rubbed off on me. It was Michael’s last leading role, and the fact that Churchill’s situation spoke to his own paid off. He was proud of his performance. I continued to work with him until he fully retired in 2018, my work becoming palliative. The jobs ranged from a high-budget period drama (Victoria and Abdul), to indie projects done on a shoestring, to an almost walk-on part in Renée Zellweger’s Judy Garland biopic.
Though it was never properly defined, my job included telling Michael what the script was about and how he fitted into it. Then, we would run his lines over and over, in the back of cars and hotel lobbies, in an attempt to allay his massive anxieties. Despite this exhaustive prep, he was unable to retain much. And when we stepped on the set, we were starting virtually afresh. I would usually take my place in some cupboard within radio range and, watching him on a handheld monitor, I’d cue him, using exaggerated emphasis to suggest where we were in a sentence, while trying to keep my meaning somehow neutral.
Sometimes he’d find my intonation inoffensive; he would have less trouble interpreting the sentence and could make it his own. Sometimes he’d contort my emphasis, resulting in unusable takes for which we’d both feel guilty. He often said he wanted me to read lines “straight, like a machine”, willing me to be less of an encumbrance to his expression. But when we experimented with less signposting, he couldn’t gain sense from my sounds. Ever the precision engineer he had trained to be, he was insistent that if he had the use of his younger brain he could build the contraption he needed to compensate for its gradual decay.
Michael’s desire for autonomy was based on what he’d achieved, an incredible career characterised by versatility and power. Of his TV work, he was best known for The Singing Detective; of his films, for his role as Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts in Harry Potter (a film that “changed everything”, not necessarily for the better). But his humane presence enriched movies as various as The Cook, The Thief, His Wife & Her Lover; Gosford Park; Layer Cake; The Wings of the Dove; The Life Aquatic and Quartet. In the 1960s, his work on TV series The Borderers led to him being sized up as a candidate to play James Bond. But he thought of himself as a stage actor first. Over the decades, he’d interspersed Shakespeare with Brecht, Pinter, Ayckbourn and Caryl Churchill, at the Birmingham Rep, then the Royal Shakespeare Company, then everywhere else that mattered.
[Financial Times]
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