#ashton: i mean. you get the gist

[burr-ell]

yknow when ashton came to talk to percy they had a freshly sprouted, glowing magma arm; visible wounds and burns; and ripped-up tailored clothing, so i have to imagine when they started off the conversation "i just did something really stupid" percy had to restrain himself from the basic bitch comeback of "you don't say"

[utilitycaster]

no d20 spoilers here since i know you know the gist of the drama but the fact that both kipperlilly (and the ratgrinders as a whole) and laudna are sending the their respective fandoms into meltdowns is FASCINATING to me!!! Especially happening at roughly the same time

I am now officially caught up and. not to brag but, called it re: the Rat Grinders, huh, except it's even more stupid. Like. The "but they're literally minors?" argument sort of falls apart given that they're the same age as the Bad Kids, and are actively trying to kill them, the "but redemption" argument doesn't mean shit since at no point did they make any forays towards redemption and indeed sicced a bunch of dragons on the Bad Kids, and so we're left with nothing but an impotent desire to not have a sick-ass battle in the finale of a D20 Campaign. And, perhaps, an uncomfortable realization that they are not unlike the Rat Grinders and the narrative said "lmao yeah you suck".

Laudna's shit? not that different actually. Like there's a lot of reasons why the arguments defending her are bullshit but the biggest one is that the "Laudna has never done anything wrong ever in her life and Imogen is her tether" crowd have painted themselves into a delightfully tiny little corner and they can't hide it anymore. Like, okay, so, is Laudna in control of her actions? Because if so she just attacked Orym in the middle of the night. Is she not? Because if so why hasn't she made the efforts that Chetney and FCG and Imogen (at least sometimes) did to address that? If the issue is trauma why is hers more valid than that of others? If it's abuse tell me how you feel about Caleb, Fjord, Beau, and Percy? Why is Orym shutting down the conversation when he says the Vanguard killed his family but Laudna's not doing the same when she tells Ashton not to speak to her of loneliness and Chetney not to speak to her of loss when she doesn't have a monopoly on either?

Why is it Bells Hells' job to endlessly accomodate Laudna and why are so many people suddenly talking about Bells Hells as an abstract 7-headed entity that didn't deal with Laudna's problems when those same people (if they were around at the time of the gnarlrock airing, and many of them weren't) were like "NO THEY SHOULD MAKE UP AS FAST AS POSSIBLE AND IMOGEN IS A BITCH BECAUSE LAUDNA DIDN'T MEAN IT." Why wasn't it an issue for them when Laudna's ranting about her time in Issylra and how hard it was got shut down by Imogen kissing her because that's why it didn't stay in the spotlight. Why wasn't it an issue for them when Imogen said "if you need her, that's my answer"? Why is it Orym or "Bells Hells" in the abstract who never spent time on Laudna's trauma after months if not years of throwing a fit any time someone (often me) (not always though) pointed out how much Imogen and Laudna were shoving under the rug and not dealing with? What does it say that you can't even expect Laudna's partner to be the one supporting her through this- it has to be Orym? Why doesn't Laudna have any responsibility here? At minimum she could have spoken up about the sword at at least two if not three junctures and she didn't.

There's a lot of things I hold in contempt, and after the obvious things like bigotry, two I really detest are hypocrisy and dereliction of responsibility. It's been extremely telling with both the D20 and CR discourse that people do not like seeing the story and the fandom say "hey actually you need to take responsibility for your actions, you only get redemption if you work for it, and if you leave a room hoping someone will follow you without saying that's what you want? Don't be surprised if no one does." The reason everyone was preparing to stop Laudna was because she was, in every action and decision, showing herself to be a person in need of being stopped. Can you describe this perfect balance of gentleness in which she's never pushed too hard but she does talk about her trauma and work through it and in doing so leaves Delilah? Have you demanded any other member of Bells Hells be granted that same gentleness and patience and kindness or do you think Orym should get over his grief because it's inconvenient to your arguments.

Just as the Rat Grinders show the narrative saying "being an entitled, resentful, jealous person who hurts others from jealousy makes you an easy tool to be manipulated into cruelty and you need to deal with that," I think Laudna shows the narrative (and certainly the fandom) saying "you do have an obligation to deal with your trauma, especially if it causes you to hurt others, and you can ask for help but you can't just sit on your ass waiting for someone else to initiate the process for you" as well as "if you do hurt people because of your trauma they may be angry with you, this may shape how they see you, and they are justified in that because you hurt them" and I think people in both fandoms hate being told that because I think a lot of the people sparking the discourse really do think that you can shield yourself from criticism over your hurtful actions by claiming trauma or neurodivergence or mental illness or whatever and it's like, no, you do still suck, you just also had sucky things happen to you as well.

[j-trow-95]

Six Sentence Sunday

I’m back with words!

Thanks for the tag this week @aristocratic-otter @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @blackberrysummerblog @hushed-chorus @orange-peony and @larkral. The hype for all of your work is so real, and I am especially hyped for all of the COTTA work going on at the moment!

Speaking of, those are the words of which I am here to share! I’ve finally got back on track with the El Dorado plot line ��� and now I may be veering off again in an entirely fic direction. In other words, I am going with original plot ideas rather than following beat for beat the movie, but the general gist is still there. We’re up to the ‘you still have the map?’ moment essentially, for those of you who know the movie.

But that’s not the excerpt I’m sharing. Enjoy this bit of shameless flirting I inflicted upon Ashton earlier this week.

BAZ POV

“So we solved the problem of how to get up onto the deck,” Simons says, his voice low in my ear. I feel the warmth of his breath and vibrations of his words against the sensitive skin there and can’t suppress my shiver. “What now?”

“Lifeboat, then home,” I say, clinically, monotone. Definitely not affected in any way by his proximity.

“No change of clothes?” I swear Snow’s voice has suddenly got husky.

Is he actually flirting with me? Now? Or am I just so accustomed to lusting after him on a daily basis that I’m turning any scrap of attention into affection in my head?

“Not this time,” I reply, silkily.

I swear Snow shudders this time.

“Shame,” he whispers.

“If you’re both done,” Bunce hisses over her shoulder at us, “we have bigger problems to deal with!”

Right, yes, escaping. That’s also important.

They’re so in love … and I am a mean fic writer and refuse to let it happen too soon!

Tagging: @artsyunderstudy @aristocratic-otter @larkral @orange-peony @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @palimpsessed @dragoneggos @prettylightsbigcity @stardustasincocaine @fatalfangirl @cutestkilla @ileadacharmedlife @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @ebbpettier @martsonmars @erzbethluna @hushed-chorus

[pcpulr]

svea and ashton didn't really argue or fight. hell when they had disagreements they knew how to compromise, but these last couple of weeks have been nothing but them but stress. maybe not stress but they definitely were not seeing eye to eye since carmen's party. what ashton didn't know is that the way that ashton had reacted was a slight trigger for svea. jay had raised his voice before at her, and even though ashton didn't raise their voice at her it still made her wince. now seeing that ashton had gotten physical with their sibling, she felt uneasy about it. jay had thrown things towards svea but not directly at her — if that had made sense. her jaw was clenched; hands now on her hips as she listened to the other. " but you did lie, ashton! you just said you had some anonymous person telling you to meet them somewhere when it was daxton reaching out to you to meet them." the latter she knew because carmen had told them. svea knew it all and she was seeing if ashton would be flat out honest with her but clearly that wasn't the case. " so if daxton pleaded you to kill them you would?" it was an extreme exaggeration to make but it was the same gist of it all. not once had she thought that ashton would go out of their way to beat up their sibling. "i don't care that they pleaded because they know your hatred towards them. you take it to a punching bag or therapy or something !" " daxton is not to blame for what happened to you and carmen. i mean...fuck ashton. i don't even..." she really had nothing to say. honestly she didn't want to be in the same room as ashton currently. her blood was boiling but she was trying to remain calm and not to raise her voice as much knowing the girls were upstairs (and most likely listening in). what also ash didn't know was that svea had talked to daxton after reaching out to them. " daxton has been wanting to have a conversation with you since settling back into town. despite how small this town is, they were still trying hard not to get into your way but also wanted to reconcile things." the femme rubbed her forehead. " i know this because i talked to them after finding out about them. i reached out to see where their mind was at and letting them know how you would feel about them being around because i know you wouldn't."

ashton wasn't surprised that svea saw right through them, she'd caught on pretty quickly to their mannerisms. they knew regardless of what they said neither svea or carmen would believe them. the last thing ash wanted was to fight with their partner again, so soon after the argument they had over carmen's party that had them sleeping on the couch. "i said i thought it could have been, i didn't know who it was. i'll show you the damn message if that's what you want from me?"

their eyes fell to the ground hearing her mumble. they could only imagine how disappointed svea was with their behaviour. ashton wasn't one to get physical and if they hadn't have been pushed by daxton, they wouldn't have hurt them, no matter how much pain they caused. "i didn't lie to you!" they simply just left out a few major details. "this is bullshit — don't act like you were there, svea, you weren't!" they through their hands up to make their point, wincing in pain, forgetting for a moment they had actually hurt themself. "it wasn't even my idea and you're right, i wouldn't go out of my way to beat someone up."

they sighed in frustration, no-one was going to believe them and once more, even though daxton egged them on, they would be the one looking like the bad guy. ignoring svea's sarcasmm ashton nodded, "i do actually, yeah." credit to daxton, it was exactly what they needed, to get out the pain and anger their twin had caused. "you don't understand," ashton tried, "they wanted me to! they stood there pleading with me to hit them, to make them feel the pain they caused me. i didn't want to but then they started talking, fishing and they got what they wanted. daxton gave me an outlet to release some of the hatred i felt and fuck svea, i was filled with it. even after be separated for so long, they still knew me well enough to know what i needed. they really listened to everything i had to say but also i got a chance to listen to them, what they went through, they tried to help me understand, see that there was so much more going on with them than what i realised. so yes, it was liberating. they feel responsible for what happened between carmen and i and they want to fix it. that's the truth, svea. i didn't meet them with the intention of hurting anyone but fuck, it felt so good to just release the anger."

[creampiecashton]

do u know where i can find this one fic, it’s like ashtons gf gets caught touching herself after a show and so ashton and the rest of the band fuck get as punishment

!!! THIS IS MY MOST FAVE FIC OF ALL TIME ANON!!! ITS AUDIENCE (pt 1 & 2) BY THE ABSOLUTE DOLL @lukeinblue she’s a lil inactive rn bc a lot of ppl r rlly mean for no reason which is really sad :(( but her choice to stop writing is totally understandable, yknow? her masterlist is still worth the total binge read tho absolutely love and adore it could never forget it, you get the gist 🥰🥰

[remusbush]

Live And Let Die, part 5

Part 1     Part 2    Part 3    Part 4   Part 6

Description: Agent 008 and Agent 009, professional spies for the MI6 with liscense to kill. Partners in both work and love. After an agent goes missing the partners have to once more go out into the field. (It’s a James Bond AU)

You don’t need to know anything about James Bond to be able to read this fic, trust me

Words: 3505

The train cart was filled with silence. Remy looked at the dog tag, the dog tag which had belonged to Roman. They looked up at their husband. He was staring right through them.

"I- I'll call Q. He'll get us home" Remy hastily let out.

They didn't get a reply. Remus sat perfectly still as they talked to Q. He seemed to be looking at a ghost. Maybe he was dissociating, maybe he was reliving the death. His hands wouldn't stop shaking.

Eventually Remy got up and took his hand. They held onto him until the train got to it's next stop. Held onto him the long car ride to an airport. Held onto him the entire flight back to England. Held onto him until they back to their apartement at MI6. They knew he would break apart if they let go right now.

Remy was sure M would give them a break from missions. Remus was barely eating, much less sleeping. No one could except him to work.

And yet here they were, 2 days later in M's office. Remus actually sat in a normal position in one of the chairs which was so unusual it even made M uncomfortable. Remy sat in his lap with their arms around his shoulders to comfort him.

"-I assure you 009 that I would let you two have a break if this mission wasn't urgent. Trust me I would be very happy if you two disappeared from my sight for a while" M aka Deceit said. One of his pet snakes had made itself comfortable around his neck.

"Sure girl. What's so fucking important then?"

Deceit pushed a paper over the desk towards them "This. Your luck was in your favor 009. You brought back a document from Ron Stewart's, the man you killed, room on the train correct?"

"Girl I dunno. 75% of the time I'm just like running on instinct and iced coffee but yeah sure"

"Yes well this document talks about Stewart's company partially being bought by this company by the name of Vigur. I didn't recognize it so I asked Q to do some research and-"

"It's a vampire sex ring!" Remy guessed.

Deceit blinked at them "Close. No it's a new company, actually it hasn't even started yet. It will have an opening this week in Manchester. It's an energy company and apparently it's lead by a young new business entrepreneur. It's strange.....When Q looked him up there was nothing. No history, no photos, no educational records. Only a few articles about him and his dad and that he was the leader of Vigur"

"I didn't catch the name"

"Virgil. Virgil Viverno"

Remus suddenly moved his arms around Remy's waist so tightly their ribs hurt. He buried his head against their shoulder. His spouse' placed their hands on top of his.

Deceit looked at him varily. He really did want to let the agents go on a break, he wasn't heartless, but, well, they had a mission to finish, even if it had become an intricate one.

"I suggest you two infiltrate the opening of the company. Find any information you can because somehow this has to be connected to the killings of agents caused by....Jaws...To aid I asked Moneypenny to follow Virgil around a bit and take a few pictures so you two know who to interrogate"

Deceit called for Moneypenny aka Patton. He entered the office with a stack of photos in his hands before sitting down on the edge of the table and laying out the photos. It was all of the so called Virgil. He was sitting in a car far away in all of them so it was a bit hard to see but they got the basic gists of him having short unkept black hair and sickly pale skin.

"Aww Patty I didn't know you got to work out in the field" Remy commented.

Deceit arched his brow "Don't underestimate him"

"I might not be as good in combat as y'all are but I can be sneaky and take a few photos every now and then"

Deceit sent him an unusually warm smile "You did a good job"

Moneypenny blushed slightly "Oh shush you snakecharmer. I'm married"

Remy grabbed one of the photos and looked closer "Betting on him being gay so time for some guy drag. Just 'cause I'm like tots too lazy to get into womany attire. We'll infiltrate the party, I'll take him to his hotel room and look for anything about why this new stupid company exists"

They were quiet for a few seconds before adding with venom in their tone "Or why they murdered Picani"

Patton leaned over and patted them on their shoulder to comfort them. "Yeah it's a bit weird. I followed him around for quite a few days but he rarely ever left the house he was staying at. He never even walked around. Either he was at that house or he was driven directly to the company building. He never stayed there for long so he couldn't have been working"

"Mhm" Deceit began "It could mea-"

Remus slammed his hand down into the table.

"You're all ignoring Roman"

Patton paled a little. Deceit leaned back in his seat. They were all silent.

"I- I mean the dog tag it- it has to mean this- the company- Picani it must have something to do with Roman doesn't it- I mean- I mean- Maybe- Roman could be alive"

Remus looked around at them while holding the tag close to his chest. He didn't look mad. He just looked like a cornered animal, a hurt prey.

"Kiddo" Patton held out his hand, unsure if to comfort or reason with him.

"Killing a 00 agent is quite a big thing. I can imagine that someone would gladly take the dog tag and keep it with them as a souvenir if they'd been in the same building as where it happened. From your reports of what happened there is no chance your brother is alive" Deceit stated bluntly "It is of far greater importance to try and find this 'Jaws' guy before he kills any more 00 agents"

All of the air seemed to go out of Remus. His arms loosened around Remy. They tried to comfort him and whisper sweet nothings to him.

"M don't be so cold about it!" Patton exclaimed. "It's okay kiddo. I'm sure- Maybe- We-" He pressed his lips into a tight line and tried to think about anything positive to say. He gave up and moved to try and hug Remus at least.

Remus stood up from the chair so quickly Remy nearly fell down on the floor. He banged his hands down into the table and leaned close to Deceit. His furious brown, nearly red, eyes stared into Deceit's cold black ones.

"I'll capture Jaws and I'll drag him back here. I'll drop him right here on your bloody desk if that's what it takes to make you take me seriously. And then I Will find my brother! Even if it's just his rotten corpse!"

He stormed out of the room without another word and slammed the doors shut behind him.

--

Remus was driving a black ashton martin towards the company's building where the opening party was being held. He had on a black suit. Remy sat in the passenger seat. They had on a looser fitting black blazer with a white button up under and pants. They'd styled it with a necklace and a few rings on their fingers.

"Babe you don't have to like do this you know that right?" Remy asked while looking over to their husband "Like it's really understandable if you want a break from work or something right now with the whole Roman thing. I can handle it on my own"

"I have to.........If there's a small chance Roman is...is.....out there I have to follow up on.....And even if he's....even if he's...gone....I want to at least stop the people who...killed....him" He held onto the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white "I want to tear them apart for hours upon hours until they're begging me to kill them"

Remy took his hand and intertwined their fingers "I'll be right here beside you" They pressed a kiss to his knuckles "I'mma be cutting people apart as well!"

Remus sent them a tired smile "Mhm. Love you my rotten lil sunflower"

They scrunched their nose "Gross"

"Nu-hu! You're my dear maggot infested heart"

"And you're the human equivalent of a mad scientist's experiment going wrong"

Remus pretended to blush "Awww you're always at your A game with compliments"

"Somebody has to be"

They leaned in for a kiss before getting out of the car. The tall building had an elegant opening door made out of glass.

Remy held onto their husband's upper arm and leaned on his shoulder as they walked in. The entrance was a grand room looking outmost modern. The reception had been turned into a bar and there were cocktail tables here and there.

The opening party was mostly to establish connectioncs between CEOs and such. It was all fake smiles and empty talking between glasses of champange.

"Let's say we're here for my mom's company" Remus whispered.

"Oh yeah the super legal one with a brilliant name" Remy chuckled back.

"Don't you dishonor the name of Octopussy!" He did a dramatic pout "But we'll say we're from the hotel business side of the company and not the y'know jewel smuggling-"

"Or circus business"

"Or circus business yes"

They mingled among the crowd while looking for Virgil. It was ironic how Remy was better at talking about the Octopussy company than Remus was. He'd always been better at the smuggling part than the business part while it was the reverse for his twin. Roman had been chosen to become the full time leader of the company once their mom retired...well that had changed obviously.

Remy was in the middle of making up an elaobarate lie about Octopussy totally being besties with the owner of this company to some business men when Remus pulled them aside. He pointed over to a dark corner of the room.

"Holy shit!" Remy gasped while their eyes widened "That's a total heart-throb!"

"What- No-" Remus looked at them with a confused look before looking back at the corner.

Remy was looking at a tall, broad shouldered, muscular guy in a slick black suit. He stood near the corner with his arms crossed. They were practically looking at him with heart eyes.

"Awww babe are you trying to find me a date? He's just my type!" They said while holding onto their tall, broad shouldered, muscular husband wearing a slick black suit.

"Sorry darling dearest but I was pointing at Virgil"

Next to the muscular guy a skinny man was sitting by a lone table. He had on a black button up shirt with a purple hoodie over. There was a glass of soda in front of him.

Remy pouted "That's not as fun"

"You can try to flirt with him while you get info from Virgil" Remus moved his hand to their jaw and leaned their head up "You horndog"

"Shut up your bundle of bacteria" They teased back before leaning in to kiss him.

"A demon would be jealous of your horniness......because....y'know....demon horns"

"Girl I could walk into a public toilet and press my finger against the wall and I would get the same amount of filth on my finger from that wall as I would get from your skin"

Remus kissed them again "Love you"

"Love you too" They smiled into the kiss.

"Be careful. If I see you leave with Virgil I'll follow you and cut in if I hear anything fucked aight?"

"Got it gal!"

Their hands lingered together for an extra moment before they both willed themself to let go. Remy walked towards Virgil. They unbuttoned the top 2 buttons on their shirt, dragged up their shirt sleeves slightly and fixed their hair.

They didn't get to Virgil. The tall muscular man stopped them beforehand by grabbing onto their shoulder. They couldn't honestly say that they were complaining.

"Mr. Viverno doesn't wish to talk to any more strangers for the rest of the night. He's already had enough people try to manipulate him with sweet talking and business deals" The man, who Remy assumed was a bodyguard, said in a stern tone.

Remy sent him a cheeky smile "Aww girl I'm not here for some money talk or whateva. I just hate parties. I was forced here just as much as the next boytoy"

The bodyguard sneered at them but from over his shoulder they could see Virgil glancing at them. In the low light it was hard to see the details of his face.

"Theo it's okay. You can let him in"

Remy had a shit eating grin on their face as they gracefully sauntered past the bodyguard apparently named Theo. They slumped down on the seat on the opposite side of the table to Virgil. He seemed okay with just sitting in silence, Remy wasn't.

"I'm Diamandis. Remington Diamandis" They reached out their hand after saying the totally real and not at all made up name.

Virgil just stared at their hand "You already know my name. You wouldn't be at the opening if you didn't"

They leaned their elbows on the table "Yeah well introductions are always nice either way. Know whats not like nice? Parties. Fucking hate them" They lied.

He quickly nodded along "Everything is so....loud....there's so many peoples. I've never been to any sort of party or anything before but I already hate them"

"Impressive. If I could choose I would have tots been...." Remy tried to figure out what Virgil would react to best "Been staying in my room all alone like just calm no sounds. Sadly my daddy is like involved with this like octopussy company so I gotta be here" They saw how Virgil immediately tried to hold back a smile at the mention of the name "It's okay, you can laugh"

He covered his mouth with his hand while giggling "Sorry- Sorry it's just- that's a bad word"

"I'm aware. I've been looking to get a new daddy anyhow. Someone less boring who doesn't drag me to all these stuck up parties"

"....Through....adoption...?...Or...?"

Remy realized they were talking to an innocent lamb and quickly changed the subject "So you wanna buy us drinks? A fancy cocktail would sound nice right about now" They leaned their chin on their hands and moved closer.

"I uh I can't. Maybe some soda I dunno"

"What? You're waiting 'till marriage to drink or something"

Virgil glanced up at him "No I- I'm not allowed. I'm 15. Theo said-"

Remy reared back into their seat. The smug look on their face was instantly gone as they buttoned up their shirt all the way up. Now when they knew he was a teenager it was blatantly obvious. Suddenly they noticed the subtle acne on his face, how his arms clearly had had a growth spurt before the rest of his body, how he still kind of had baby cheeks.

"I'm sorry. You should have said- I didn't think- I'm sorry that's like tots gross of me- The lightning is really bad I couldn't see- Sorry girl" They babbled out.

"What are you apologizing for?" Virgil asked while tilting his head.

"I the adult here flirted with you- which is so disgusting and girl I'm like-"

Virgil looked like he was one step away from slamming his hands into the table and standing up "Flirting??" His eyes widened "That was flirting??"

"Indeed it was. I was close to punching you the entire time" Theo muttered while eyeing Remy.

"This is almost as cool and as when I got to try out a phone for the first time a few days ago" Virgil pointed over to Theo "He has a bunch of games on his phone. They're really fun"

Theo let out a ridiculously tired sigh "The games are just there for my kids I swear"

Remy zoned out of the conversation. The sheer weirdness of someone who apparently is a CEO 1. being a teenager and 2. not owning a phone had taken them right out. Every step of this mission seemed to make it weirder and weirder. It made their head hurt with unanswered questions.

"-my room?" Remy got forced out of their thoughts as Virgil asked them something.

"What?"

"Do you want to go to my room? I have a room on the second floor in case I ever need to stay over for the night. The place I actually live is quite far away from here" He fiddled with his sleeves "You said you would rather be in your room like ehhh being calm so I thought we could go away from all the loud people at least"

"Sure kid" Remy almost felt bad for how easily Virgil had done exactly what they wanted him to.

He got up and mumbled something to Theo before setting off towards the elevator. Remy blew Theo a kiss before waving goodbye as they walked past him. In response he gave them the middle finger, clearly showing of the wedding ring on his finger.

One short elevator ride later they were following Virgil through a long hallway. It was all cold grey walls and light that gave them a headache. It was quiet apart from the muffled sounds from the people on the first floor.

Virgil suddenly reached out and held onto the sleeve of their blazer. He looked up at them with big eyes "Have you ever touched snow?"

"....Yes-"

He held onto them harder and a smile played at the edge of his lips "Can you describe it?"

Remy was a bit taken aback by the weird question but shrugged and began to describe it. Nothing had been worse than the freezing winters with nothing but their mothers and a cheap sleeping bag to keep them warm. From the corner of their eye they caught a glimpse of Remus following them.

Virgil's smile grew wider the more they described it. His blue eyes looked at them as if they were the most knowledgable person ever. Before they knew they'd reached his room. It was mostly bare. Just a bed, a nightstand and a few boxes. The bed wasn't even comfortable as they sat down alongside the teenager.

They glanced around for anything important. Drugging a teenager so he fell asleep so they could search through his room made them feel really disgusting but at least it was better than knocking him out. Hopefully it would just feel like a quick nap. Hopefully they could hide the sleeping pill in some soda.

"Are you looking for something?" Virgil asked.

"Nah girl. Nothing. I was just-"

Remy turned back to look at him. His smile was gone and his blue eyes suddenly seemed cold. It felt like his gaze was piercing through them.

"Oh 009. You should have paid more attention" Virgil murmured.

Their blood ran cold at the mention of their 00 title. They tried to speak but realized their mouth felt numb. Their whole body felt numb and as heavy as lead.

"Do you seriously think Theo would have let you be alone with me unless he knew you were so stupid you wouldn't even care to look at the most important part of this room" He scoffed at them.

Remy fell back on the bed. Their eyelids could barely stay open as they looked up. Their eyes widened as they saw dozens upon dozens of spiders sitting on the roof.

"Ruthie is such a good girl" Virgil picked up a big black spider that had been crawling around on the covers. He patted her while talking "All it takes is a small bite from her and a human can be passed out for up to 6 hours"

Remy wanted to muster up the strenght to snarl an insult at least. Instead all they could do was fall asleep as their eyes rolled to the back of their skull.

Virgil's smile widened "Goodnight"

He let out a few more of his dear spiders crawl up on his arms. He threw the bed lamp down on the ground and let out a few fake muffled cries. It was too trick 009's equally as stupid partner to rush in.

And he did. Of course he did.

Remus stumbled into the room with a neutral expression plastered on his face. His eyes darted around the room but quickly landed on his sleeping spouse.

"Sorry! I was uh looking for the bathroom!" He threw out "Oh wow one of you is unconcious that's not good especially not while in bedrooms! Maybe I should stay"

Virgil looked at him as he was the biggest idiot on earth. A few spiders started to crawl up Remus' legs. He looked down at them and quickly shook them off before stomping on them.

"YOU FUCKER!" Virgil yelled. He shot up from the bed and closed his hands into fists. He nearly teared up at the sight of the dead spiders.

Remus took a step back and raised his hands "Hey kid I'm sorry but-"

He didn't say anything more. A harsh hit landed on the back of his neck. He immediately fell down on the ground.

The whole room was spinning. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Virgil moving to hug a person. He seemed to be lifted from the ground and spun around in the hug.

The last thing Remus heard before he passed out was Virgil happily letting out a "Jawsie!!"

[clumsyclifford]

popularity, or pink flowers

well the good news is i have absolutely no excuse for this. a month ago my dear friend spidey anon send this ask about wicked!5sos and then tonight it was revived when @calumsclifford starting discussing it and now it’s 4am and muke!gelphie exists. SO.

not to pretend this is a Real Fic because it’s literally just the Popular scene but with muke as gelphie, but anyway you can read this as pre-slash or as just homies, i don’t really care. also if anyone cares, kara lindsay is my favorite glinda and this is the video i watched to get the dialogue and gist of this scene down. even if you know absolutely nothing about wicked i recommend you watch it because kara lindsay is fucking hilarious.

anyway, obvious shoutout to maggie, who’s tagged above, for being the bearer of all the great musical!sos aus. this is my humble offering to you. also to spidey anon.

(side note i changed the ending a little bit because you know me. a sucker for a hopeful ending. fuck angst 2k20 baby)

[ao3]

-

Luke is buzzing when they get back to their dormitory, just a few minutes shy of midnight, and Michael sits at the edge of his bed and pretends not to notice the way Luke is literally bouncing on his own mattress.

Finally Luke snaps. “Your very first party ever!” he cheers, as if that’s something to be celebrating, that Michael is college-age and still has never been to a party.

“Do funerals count?” he asks, because if so he’s been to quite a few.

Luke frowns for a moment and then carries on, undeterred. “Your very first party,” he says, emphasis clear, and grins. “Yay!”

Michael doesn’t think the party was as much of a smash hit as Luke seems to believe it was, but Luke’s already leaping off his bed and scurrying over towards Michael’s. It’s possible Luke has had too much to drink; Michael wishes he’d known there would be alcohol. He would have taken advantage.

That, or Luke is just naturally this bubbly, which is an even more exhausting thought.

“I know!” says Luke, clambering onto Michael’s bed, pushing right up against his side. Michael shies away, hugging tighter to the pillow across his lap, but Luke doesn’t get the message and reaches to straighten out Michael’s fringe. “Let’s tell each other secrets. Something you’ve never told anyone before.” Grinning conspiratorially at Michael, he says, “I’ll go first.” Then, in a low whisper: “Ashton and I are going to be married!”

Michael blinks. Luke and Ashton are well-suited, he reckons; both a little bit flippant, a little bit ditzy, and very popular.  “He’s asked you already?”

“Oh, he doesn’t know yet,” Luke says cheerfully. “Now you tell me a secret.”

Michael can’t think of a single secret he wants to share with any version of Luke, but especially not this version of Luke, who’s so ridiculously upbeat it makes Michael want to crawl under his bed and hermit until he becomes one with the dust bunnies.

“Like what?” he asks.

“Like,” Luke says, and then before Michael can react he’s off the bed and reaching under Michael’s other pillow, “why do you sleep with this green bottle under your bed?”

Michael jumps to his feet, cheeks hot. “Give it back!”

“Come on, what is it?” Luke screeches, holding it high up, almost out of reach. Michael grabs hold of it and they play tug of war for a moment, Luke demanding to know what it is and Michael growling for him to return it, before Michael finally wins the battle and the bottle is safely in his hands.

“It was my mum’s!” he snaps. “That’s all. Fuck.”

Luke looks deeply upset. “That’s not fair,” he accuses. “I told you a really good one.”

Michael thinks he’s going to do something violent in a few moments unless Luke does something really redeemable. And then Luke turns back to his own bed and flops face-first into his pillow, unmoving. Like he’s really, truly hurt by this betrayal of Michael’s, daring not to match Luke’s oh-so-secret secret with one of his own.

It occurs to Michael that Luke is trying to bond with him. Or at least be friendly. And to be perfectly honest, that’s not something Michael’s come by too easily at Shiz. Friends, friendly people, anyone willing to make polite conversation...they’ve all been effectively nonexistent for Michael. For Luke, who had been such an asshole to him in the beginning (though Michael had returned the favor), to try and build a bridge despite their past failings, is actually pretty admirable. And Michael’s being cagey.

He caves.

“My dad hates me,” he admits. Luke immediately springs up. “That’s not the secret.” Once again Luke flops into his pillows, disappointed. Michael sighs. “The secret is that he has a good reason to. It’s my fault.”

This time Luke stands up and turns to look at him, and Michael recognizes the faintest trace of concern in his features. Sympathy. Not something Michael expected to see on Luke.

“What?” Luke asks, brows drawn together. “What is?”

This time, when he approaches Michael’s bed, it’s tentative, and maybe that’s what makes Michael shift over so that Luke can sit himself down. Still hugging the pillow close, Michael says, “That my sister is — the way she is.” Crippled, he doesn’t say, because she hates it when people call her that, even if it’s true. Nessarose is crippled for life. 

Luke watches him, careful, and doesn’t say anything, so Michael clears his throat and starts from the beginning. “See, when our mum was carrying Nessa, our father started worrying that the new baby might come out, you know.” 

“Green,” Luke supplements, although there’s nothing mocking in his voice, surprisingly.

“Green,” Michael agrees, looking down at his hands for a moment. When he looks back, Luke’s eyes are still on him. “He was so worried that he made mum chew milk flowers all the time. Only…it made Nessa come too soon, and her legs were all tangled. And mum never woke up.” He swallows, shakes his head. “None of which would’ve happened if not for me.”

Luke is quiet for a moment. Then he says, “But that was the milk flowers’ fault. Not yours.” He grabs at Michael’s hands and Michael is too startled to pull away. “That may be your secret, Michael, but that doesn’t make it true. You’re blaming yourself for something you didn’t even do. For someone you just are.” And then, just as Michael is thinking that maybe Luke is cleverer than he lets on, Luke cuddles into his side, stroking his hair and whispering, “Shh.”

“Uh, Luke,” Michael whispers back, because this is pretty weird.

Luke ignores him. Then he catches sight of the clock on the wall and leaps away from Michael to his feet, clapping in excitement. “Hey, look, it’s tomorrow!” Turning to Michael, he adds, “Mikey — is it alright if I call you Mikey?”

Michael grimaces. “Well, it’s a little childish.”

Luke ignores him again, happy grin fixed into place. Whatever Luke was sincerely reassuring Michael that Nessa’s deformity hadn’t been his fault is gone, and this bubblegum version of him is in his place. Michael’s not sure which one is the real Luke, or if there is a real Luke. Maybe Luke is just a bunch of personalities that slot in and out of place like gobo lenses on stage lights.

“And you can call me…” Luke spreads his arms. “Luke!” Like Michael wasn’t already doing that. “See, Mikey, now that we’re friends, I’ve decided to make you my new project.”

Michael stares. “You really, really don’t have to do that.” Please don’t do that, is what he means to say. Michael can only imagine what that means, and it’s not pretty.

But Luke, once again, is steadfast. “I know! That’s what makes me so nice.”

Michael doesn’t know if nice is the word. “I don’t need to be a project,” he tries, but Luke is already talking over him.

“You see, Mikey, I’m a very fortunate person,” he chirps. “And so when I see someone less fortunate than I am — which, let’s face it, is most people —  my heart aches for them. And when someone needs a makeover — well, I’m amazing at makeovers.” He tosses a grin at Michael. “Clearly. And I know —” Michael opens his mouth to protest and Luke puts a finger over it, “I know exactly what they need. Oh!” He stalls Michael on his return from putting the green bottle back underneath his pillow and reaches for his glasses. Michael winces as Luke pulls them away from his face, examines him for a moment, and then puts them back. Awesome. Michael’s always thought he looked dorky with glasses, but somehow Luke thinks he looks worse without them, which is just great.

“Luke —” he tries again, and is once more cut off.

“No, no, no! Mikey, listen. This is going to be tough. I’m not going to lie. You’re a real fixer-upper, but don’t worry. I have a perfect track record with makeovers. When I’m done with you, I swear, you will be popular.”

Michael frowns at Luke’s winning smile. “Popular?”

“Popular!” Luke agrees brightly. “I’m an expert on being popular, Mikey. I can teach you everything you need to know.” He gasps excitedly. “I can teach you to talk to boys!”

“I’m not really planning on —”

“And we can fix your hair!” Luke continues, growing more excited by the minute. At Michael’s face, he hurriedly says, “Not that there’s anything wrong with it! Except that it’s um, bad.”

“Oh,” Michael says faintly. “Well, if that’s all.” 

“Don’t worry, it’s not!” Luke says. Michael is tempted to try sarcasm again but it obviously sails right over Luke’s head, so he keeps his mouth shut as Luke fluffs a hand through Michael’s hair. Evidently he’s trying and failing to get it to do something — maybe stick up in a quiff like Luke’s does, which Michael could have told him would be a lost cause — and eventually he rocks back on his heels and huffs. “Well. We can work on that later. You look offended.”

“Well —”

“Lighten up,” Luke insists. “Think of it as…personality dialysis!” Which is a big word that stuns Michael into silence. He hadn’t really known Luke knew any big words, much less how to use them correctly. “Don’t be worried, Mikey. I told you, I’m a pro. And now that we’re friends and I can give you advice you have nothing to worry about.”

Michael is worried, although not for the reasons Luke thinks. He can’t picture a scenario where he walks out of this engagement unscathed.

“Luke, this is nice and all, but I don’t really feel like I need…to be popular.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Luke says. “Nobody needs to be popular. Well. Except me. But I am popular, so it works out pretty well!” He giggles. Michael wonders if the alcohol has worn off yet. Part of him hopes it hasn’t; if this is how Luke normally is with his friends, Michael has reason to be concerned. “Just let me help you. Let me try. You can be someone new! Instead of your old self! Well, your current self. Well — you get it.”

Michael sighs. “Okay,” he says, because the path of least resistance also seems like the fastest way to wear Luke out. He’s practically vibrating with excitement, and when Michael gives in he immediately springs into action.

“Amazing! First of all, let me take these —” Luke lifts Michael’s glasses off his nose and folds them up, then grabs Michael’s wrists and tugs him over to Luke’s bed. Michael doesn’t really see why this pseudo-makeover can’t happen from the safety of his own twin, but whatever. “See, Mikey, you just have to think logically. I mean, think about the big-shots you know about. Heads of state, diplomats.” Still chattering away, Luke reaches for something between his pillows, and Michael barely has time to register that it’s glitter — glitter, what the fuck, why would he keep that between his pillows — before it’s being dusted over his face. “Do you think they got those positions because they were smart? Of course not! They were popular. It’s all to do with being popular, Mikey. I know you’re smart, but that’s not enough anymore! It doesn’t matter how smart you are. It matters how many friends you’ve got.”

There’s a lot going on right now, what with Luke babbling about aptitude while he applies fucking glitter to Michael’s cheekbones, so Michael almost misses the part where Luke compliments him. Almost, but not quite. It’s right there; I know you’re smart, but…Michael feels his cheeks flush with pride.

“You really think being — popular is going to help me with my studies?” Michael asks hesitantly.

Luke beams, leaning away from Michael to survey his handiwork, and claps. Glitter clouds around his hands and flutters to the carpet.

“I don’t just think so,” he says giddily. “I know so. Okay. First of all, you need to learn to flirt.” Michael doesn’t really have time to wonder how flirting is going to help him get ahead in class, because Luke’s powering forward, and Michael has no choice but to listen in helpless captivity. “This is a simple two-step move. Step one: hair.”

“Hair,” Michael repeats.

“Yes, try and keep up,” Luke says impatiently. “Step one, you run your hand through your hair. Like so.” He demonstrates, and his hair takes on a charmingly mussed-up look. “Now you try!”

Certain that his hair will either stay the same or get worse, Michael concedes, dragging his hand half-heartedly through his hair. Luke looks unmoved.

“You’ve got to do it like you mean it, Mikey. Here, pretend I’m some hot guy you’re trying to impress. Well, you won’t need to pretend I’m a hot guy, but you get it.” He giggles.

Michael rolls his eyes. “Maybe if you tell me the second step I can put them together?”

“Oh! Right. Step two: bite your lip. Like so.” With a halfway smirk, Luke drags his bottom lip between his teeth, then grins at Michael. “Okay. Put it all together. Come on come on come on! You can do it!”

There’s no denying that Luke looks pretty sexy with his infallible two-step move, but equally no denying that Michael will crash and burn. Luke looks too excited not to at least give it a shot, though, so Michael bites the bullet.

He tries for a smile, which definitely looks more like a grimace, and then pulls a hand through his hair, biting his lower lip as he does. Confused by both things at once, he bites down too hard, and then winces. “Ow, fuck!”

Luke looks so overjoyed at his attempt that he wraps him up in a too-tight hug. When he pulls away he looks optimistic. “Well,” he says hopefully, “you can practice.” Michael snorts. Luke’s eyes light up like he’s struck with an idea, and he pulls Michael to his feet. “Ooh, oh! And now, I shall turn your ratty clothes into a bespoke suit!”

Ratty clothes? “I like these clothes,” Michael says defensively, as Luke grabs for his wand. Skinny jeans and t-shirts are most of his wardrobe, most if not all black. It’s part of his whole look. The emo, brooding loner look.

Luke ignores him, which is becoming a theme for the night. Morning. Whichever. Brandishing his wand in Michael’s general direction, he declares, “Suit!”

Nothing happens.

Luke frowns, taps the end of his wand, and emphatically repeats, “Suit!”

Again nothing.

“Is this thing even on?” Luke grumbles, and starts hitting the wand against his bed.��

Michael doesn’t want to be wearing a suit, but he also doesn’t want Luke to break his wand over this. “Do you want me to try?” he offers.

“No!” Luke says hotly, and throws the wand behind him, where it clatters against the wall and then to the floor. Calmly, he adds, “Just keep the, um, statement clothes. They’re cute.”

His expression says otherwise, but Michael decides not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“And now for the finishing touch,” Luke says, leading Michael to sit again at the foot of Luke’s bed. Michael goes willingly; hopefully this means an end to this nonsense, and Michael can get to bed, and in the morning they can be, like, awkward acquaintances at best. Michael isn’t expecting a lasting friendship out of this. It will be nice not to be constantly hostile towards his roommate, sure, but Luke’s…well, Luke is Luke, cheerful and bubblegum pink and popular, and Michael is Michael, that is, none of those things. In no universe could he and Luke remain friends, whatever Michael might want.

Patiently, Michael sits and watches as Luke reaches for the flower clipped in his hair, pulling it neatly back from his face, and slides the clip into Michael’s hair instead. It probably looks ridiculous — Michael’s all dark colors and green and grumpy, and pink shouldn’t be within a five-foot radius of his outfit, much less in the form of a hair clip flower — but as soon as it’s in, Luke gives a short gasp, and a smile spreads slowly over his face.

“Pink goes good with green,” he says happily. Michael can’t help but smile himself at the sincerity in Luke’s expression. “Michael. Look at you. You’re beautiful.”

In all his years of life, Michael has never once been called beautiful, and he jerks at the word now, sure that Luke must be having him on, that this must all be an elaborate prank. But Luke tugs him to his feet and leads him to the mirror, and the Michael in the mirror is — huh.

Pretty, actually.

Everything fades around Michael until Luke is just a blur off to the side, and Michael stares at himself until his eyes start unfocusing. He’s never been pretty before, never been anything other than an embarrassment to everyone who’d known him. But now his cheeks glimmer when they catch the light, and somehow fussing with his hair has actually made it look soft and inviting, and the flower, somehow, inexplicably, does look good.

Warmth is blossoming in Michael’s chest, and with it, panic. This isn’t — this isn’t him. This isn’t Michael Clifford. This is some bootleg version of him, some bastardized combination of himself and Luke, and Luke isn’t who he wants to be, or even who he should be. He should be Michael fucking Clifford, and that should be enough. His intelligence should be good enough to carry him through his studies; he shouldn’t need popularity, or pink flowers.

“I,” he chokes out, as the world rushes back to him. “I have to go.” Anywhere else, anywhere other than in front of this mirror. He heads for the door but Luke grabs his arm.

“Hey,” he says, pouting. “You’re welcome.”

“Thanks,” Michael says, strangled. “I mean, thanks but no thanks. This isn’t me.”

“It looks like you,” Luke points out, still holding his wrist. “Just a prettier version of you.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to be prettier,” Michael snarls, wrenching his hand free.

“Who wouldn’t want to be prettier?”

Michael groans. It had been too good to be true all along; Luke really is that stupid, that shallow, that daft. “I don’t! I don’t care if I’m pretty, or if I know how to flirt, or if I’m wearing a fucking suit! I want to be enough as I am. This might be hard for you to believe, but some people want to have worth outside of their looks!”

Luke stares at him as Michael cuts himself off, chest heaving from the outburst. “You think all I am is a pretty face?”

“No, Luke,” Michael says tiredly. “You think all you are is a pretty face. But I don’t want to be that. I’d rather be clever than handsome.”

“You can be both clever and handsome,” Luke argues. “You’re not stupider if you put glitter on your face, Mikey.”

“Michael.”

“Mikey. I don’t think you’re being very fair right now.”

“How am I not being fair?”

“I’m trying to help you, and you’re just — yelling and running away!” Luke says, throwing his hands up. “Maybe instead of blaming me, you should acknowledge why you’re really upset right now, huh? Admit it — you’ve never felt beautiful in your life, and now you’re upset because you didn’t realize you could have been pretty all along, and it was stupid, bubbly Luke Hemmings who taught you how to do it! You’re embarrassed that I knew something that you didn’t!”

Michael opens his mouth to retort, closes it, opens it again as the pink rises predictably in Luke’s cheeks — he’s probably not prone to violent outbursts the way Michael is, or confrontation at all, and now he looks like he might start crying — and says quietly, “Okay. Fine. You’re right.”

Luke’s eyes go wide. “I’m…right?”

“Yeah,” Michael says, though it pains him to admit it. “You’re right. I — I’m sorry, Luke. I shouldn’t have tried to run out. You were just trying to help.”

“I did help,” Luke argues weakly, bottom lip quivering. “I did.”

“You did,” Michael allows. “Thank you.”

“You look really nice, you know,” Luke whispers. “Even if pink isn’t usually your color. It suits you.”

“Yeah, well,” Michael says, casting around for something to say. “Maybe you should start wearing green.”

Luke quirks his lips in a smile. “Maybe I should.”

He won’t, and they both know it — Luke’s color is going to be pink until the end of time — but it’s an olive branch for the both of them, and as one they both grab hold of it. Michael gets the feeling that something is going to be different. Maybe Luke isn’t just going to be an awkward acquaintance. Maybe they’ll be friends.

It’s far-fetched, but stranger things have happened. After all, Michael’s wearing glitter.

[tuntematonkorppi]

sex friends stuff idk YOOOO

uuuuh so i started writing this one in like march 2018 and the gist of it is that farah and amanda are roommates and amanda ends up in a friend with benefits agreement with martin or something here have a snippet

“So”, Farah starts with her I-mean-business face. “You and Martin, uh?”

Amanda chokes on her piping hot coffee and grimaces at the burning sensation down her throat. “Ouch, what the actual fuck, Farah?!”

“Well,” Farah calmly starts after taking a sip of her tea, “you've seem to have bumped into each other quite a few times in the last couple of days—”

“Coincidence. It's a small town,” Amanda interrupts. It's too damn early and she's too damn hungover for this conversation.

Farah tilts her head to the side, staring at her roommate in disbelief. “It's really not.”

“Whatever.”

“You seemed really close last night at the bar.”

Amanda folds her arms on the breakfast table and buries her face in them. Maybe if she keeps on hiding, Farah will let it go and leave her alone to nurse her poor life choices? Except that this is Farah and she has never let anything slide in her life ever.

“Amanda.”

“I don't know!” Amanda finally bursts, wincing immediately afterwards as the world is too loud for her still. “Yes, he's nice and I like him but that stops there.”

“Why?” Farah challenges with a quirk of her brow. “He's actually a nice, decent man, we know he has good tastes in music since he was at the concert, his friends are pretty cool although slightly insane and he seems to like you. Like actually like you, not just your boobs or ass.”

Amanda lets her head fall on her arms with a dull thump. “He's tall,” she mumbles against the sleeves of her oversized hoodie.

“O-kay, not what I expected, but yes, he is indeed tall.”

“Stupidly tall. If we're next to each other, I look like a child he's kidnapping.”

“Did you just quote No String Attached?” Farah asks and Amanda doesn't have to look up to know that her roommate's eyebrows are getting dangerously close to her hairline.

“...maybe. Still true, tho. Also the fact that you recognized that reference cancels any further judgment coming from you.”

“Lydia made me watch it,” Farah says a little defensively.

Amanda glances up at her. “Stop using your goddaughter to cover up your terrible tastes in movies.”

“It was her Ashton Kutcher phase! She was marathoning all of his movies and I was there.” Farah shudders, her eyes unfocused. “So many bad movies. Soooo many,” she says slowly.

“Uh-uh.”

Farah snaps back to Amanda. “Wait, why do I have to explain myself? We are not talking about me right now.”

i don’t remember the specifics of the plot but it was basically inspired by all the friends with benefit movies ever made and it’s predictable because surprise they end up together for real

send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you

[smoochcal]

numb without you (part one)

a/n: hello its been a while since I have written something along the lines of a blurb/series but we are gonna try to give it another go. enjoy this piece (1/??) inspired by some late night conversations with my friend el (MAJOR SHOUTOUT TO EL WE LOVE EL!!) about bestfriend!luke and how one night at the club has an odd turn of events. don't have a playlist necessarily for this series, but I was listening to the song numb without you by the Maine while writing this and it fits perfectly with Luke’s POV hence the title so give that song a listen while reading this if you'd like

pairing: readerxluke (initially)

word count: 1.8k

summary: you go to the club with luke and friends

rating: PG-13

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol and smoking, slight suggestive content

———————————————————————

Y/N’s POV:

Just one night. That’s all he asked of you. I mean it’s the least you could do. You can’t even imagine the amount of times Luke had come to your rescue. You owed him this. Besides, best friends have each other’s backs. So, you quickly zip up your dress and put on your heels. He was picking you up at 7:00 and the clock on your phone reads 7:05. Already not off to a good start for the night but you run out the door grabbing your purse.

You meet your best friend at the end of your driveway. You give him a hug as he tucks the stray piece of hair behind your ear. This isn’t something out of the ordinary for you two to do on a Saturday night. His friends were part of a partying crowd and he always invited you so he had someone he could lean on. Partying was one of the last things you wanted to do tonight, but you couldn’t let Luke down.

“Are you ready to go?” Luke asks, smiling ever so slightly your way.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you say smiling right back, trying not to seem as unenthusiastic as you feel towards this night.

He opens the passenger door to his Ranger Rover and motions for you to climb in before getting in the driver’s seat and heading off to the club.

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

The two of you arrive at the club at 8:30, starting the night out early. You and Luke were the first two there, but that didn’t bother you at all. He ordered you some food, knowing you haven’t eaten yet and you split whatever he ordered for you, a common occurrence for when the two of you are together. Although you would much rather spend tonight with him at his place watching Hairspray for the fourth time under a blanket fort, this club isn’t the worst place for you to be. Especially with him.

Around 9:45 the rest of his bandmates and their friends arrived at the club. The guys all gave you hugs and mumbled hellos as they made their way to the bar. You could tell tonight was different than the others, but you couldn’t quiet put your finger on it. You tried to ignore that bad feeling bubbling in the pit of your stomach, blaming it on the two drinks you had consumed prior to the arrival of the rest of the group.

It’s nearing 11:00 now and the crowd on the dance floor is only multiplying each time you blink. Your table consists of almost too many heads to count. Ashton is with one of his reoccurring flings. You’ve been introduced to this girl several times but you can’t remember her name for the life of you. Next to them were Michael and Crystal, who announced their engagement earlier in the year. Two peas in a pod, they’re never not together and you hear the butt of the jokes the guys make about how whipped Michael is for her.

You sit next to Michael with Luke on your other side. Calum sits on Luke’s other side and you can’t help but notice the miscellaneous girls that aren’t a normal part of your crowd taking up the remaining seats between Calum and Ashton. Not that this is particularly uncommon that a new girl or two joins y’all for a night out, but they’re usually familiar faces. You’re sure they know someone at the table, maybe friends of Crystal’s or something, but you decide not to worry about it any longer.

Eventually you and Luke get up from the table, making your way to the dance floor since everyone else has too at this point. You’re dancing around with your mismatched group of friends. It’s honestly pretty embarrassing considering you and Calum are the only ones who can technically bust a move or two. The two of you have always had some kind of unspoken promise to one another that you would never show off around the others purely to save them from the embarrassment of being showed up.

After about an hour or so on the dance floor, you see Calum excuse himself from the group and slip out the club through a side door. You know the routine; he does this every time you’re with him (and Luke for that matter). He went outside to smoke, a nasty habit he can’t seem to quit, but you never minded. The club is insanely packed at this point and you can the bass of the song in your chest. The crowd and the atmosphere is starting to get the best of you. You love closer to Luke and motion for him to lean down so you can say something in his ear.

“I’m gonna go outside to get some air. I’ll be right back,” you mention to Luke, practically yelling directionally into his ear.

He either understood you completely or just enough to get the gist but he nods his head and tells you to hurry back. You nod back to him and quickly slip in and out of bodies in order to reach the door you saw Calum slip out of moments before.

———————————————————————

Luke’s POV:

There she goes disappearing again. I would say that I mind, but I truly don’t. She wanders here and there, it’s just a part of who she is. She looks stunning in that black dress she wore tonight; I should’ve told her that when I picked her up earlier. I should have told her a lot of things that I haven’t in a while. I think I’m falling for her, or rather I think I have been falling for her and I’m seconds away from being completely in love with her. She’s been my best friend for years and I don’t want to do anything to ruin that, but I also don’t want to miss my shot. It’s a very delicate balance and the suspense is nearing the point of me cracking and telling her everything. I just don’t want things to change between us for the worse.

I think I love her, fuck. I love her. She only ever gets her heart broken into a million pieces every time another guy jumps into her life. She always expects them to be in for the long haul, but it always seems like they’re gone just as soon as they appear. And that is absolutely not fair on her part. She deserves the world. She’s been there for me through every heartbreak, every album release, every tour and now that things are slowly getting back to normal, I go and fuck it up again by falling in love with the most wholesome person I know. The person who has been there for me through it all. The only person who could convince me to watch every Disney princess movie willingly with minimal eye rolls. She convinced me to go to Disney World with her twice and I didn’t complain about the number of pictures I had to take of her with her favorite characters. Nor did I mind the number of times she made me sing along to various musical soundtracks on our long car rides to the beach.

I’ve even written a couple songs about her, not to her knowledge of course, but they’re about her. They’ve always been about her. And standing here now, splashing cold water on my face in the bathroom of yet another shitty club that I have been to time and time again I am finally coming to the realization that if it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t be here. She has inspired me to do so many things including moving on when I didn’t think I could even get out of bed that morning. All in all, at the end of the day it’s her. And I feel like a major dumbass for only recognizing this now. I am in love with Y/N.

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

Y/N’S POV:

I finally stumbled outside and took my first deep breath of the night. I really am being overdramatic about tonight, but this scene is getting old quick. Especially this particular club I swear I have been here with Luke more times than I could count on my hand within the past two months. I understand that him and his friends are rock stars or whatever and have been for the past five years that I’ve known them, but this is getting tiring quick.

You take another deep breath and lean against the cold brick wall exterior of the building where your best friend is most likely downing another beer and attempting to groove to the beat. You almost laugh at the thought. You can feel the corners of your mouth turn into a smile. Just then you hear a light chuckle followed by the familiar scent of menthol.

“What are you doing out here?” Calum asks, a sly smile plastered across his plump red lips.

“Just needed to get some air,” you respond coolly, quickly remembering that he can get on your nerves easily if he rubs you the wrong way.

“Well don’t let me get in the way of that,” Calum replies, smirking yet again.

“What is that supposed to mean?” you mutter, crossing your arms for both warmth and in slight retaliation of whatever this man beside you is trying to imply.

“Nothing bad, sweetheart, just used to you getting your way most of the time and I don’t want to be the one that changes that,” he says as he puts out the cigarette he was just smoking moments before.

“Sweetheart? Who are YOU calling sweetheart?” you practically yell at him.

Calum just smiles again, laughing a little at the change in your tone. He looks you over quickly trying to be inconspicuous with his obvious actions and failing.

You shake your head, not knowing if Calum really just looked at you the way you thought he did. You’re four drinks deeps and he’s easily six and you both know this can’t end well if you both keep it up. But what do you have to lose?

“I’ll tell you what. If you wanna go around calling me sweetheart, be my guest but if you better start putting some money where your mouth is,” you state as you keep yourself from letting the drunken giggles overcome your body.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he explains as he puts his right hand on your left hip and catches your bottom lip in between his teeth before quickly attaching his lips to yours allowing you to taste the mix of mint and nicotine on his tongue.

This is gonna be a long night, you think to yourself as he backs you onto the brick wall you were leaning against just minutes before.

[prettywordsyouleft]

The Sex Contract  - Part 14

Genre: friends to lovers au / friends with benefits / mature content / romance / angst

Characters: Shim Changmin x Kaia Ashton (OC)

A/N: Due to the overwhelming request I have followed your encouragement to bring back one of my older stories. This was back in a time where OCs were everything and writing one chapter in each main’s point of view was the trend. I hope that even though I have edited this drastically, that you can appreciate this story comes from my older style of writing. I definitely still read this often and find it enjoyable so I hope you will too.

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 - FINAL

Chapter 14 – Kaia’s POV.

 Two days passed by quickly. Kaia had never truly had access to Changmin’s entire schedule before and although she did nothing but take notes and a few photos here and there, she was exhausted with trying to keep up. She constantly felt like she needed more caffeine in her system, whilst Yunho and Changmin seemed to power on effortlessly. They had an uncanny way to make the most of every minute of the day in Japan, working from dawn to dusk, and last night they had even continued through to nearly five am. It literally felt like Kaia had only closed her eyes for ten minutes before she was violently shaken awake.

“Kai, wake up, we have to get to the studio for our interview this morning.”

“Sleeping,” she mumbled and rolled over, only to feel Changmin’s weight now over her body, his hands prying her away from the blankets. “No Minnie, I need sleep. I’m not a robot like you, I’m human. I can’t sleep on ten minutes.”

“You’ve had four hours, now come on get up.”

“Lies, I just closed my eyes.” Kaia relented and squinted through her tired eyes to find the alarm clock on the bedside table saying it was 9AM. She was sure it was tricking her but the sun shining through the blinds that Changmin had opened proved that she was wrong. Kaia let out a loud groan.

“Now would you get up and shower so I can?” he urged impatiently, hoisting her out of the spare room’s bed and carrying her into the bathroom. He dumped Kaia on the cold tile floors and she gasped at the sensation, glaring up at him. He pointed at the shower cubicle. “Shower. Now.”

“Mr Grumpy pants, why don’t you just shower instead first?” she told him from the floor and he gave her a look.

“Your hair is ridiculously out of control.”

“So?”

“So you’re meeting Kaori Kimura today. Aren’t you going to put any effort in for me?”

Kaia shook her sleepy head. “Why? It’s you dating her not me.”

“What rubbish backup you’re turning out to be,” he grunted and yanked down his pyjama pants, turning on the shower and hopping in. Kaia finally was awake enough to move and got up, glancing into the slowly steaming up mirror and gasped.

“My hair!”

“I told you it was like a bush,” he said matter-of-factly from within the shower cubicle. “And I gave you the opportunity to shower but now I’m just going to enjoy my time.”

“Ugh!” Kaia exclaimed, whipping off her own bedclothes and yanking back on the shower door. Changmin gaped at her, but Kaia didn’t care, pushing her way into the water too. “Share with me.”

“Uh, no I like hot water too much.”

“You also like sex too much and you won’t get any if you don’t share,” she bartered, the taller man groaning at her fact. He complied, stepping an inch to the left.

“Now my side is getting cold!” he complained, shoving her aside instantly and letting the hot water warm him back up. Glaring at his rudeness, Kaia moved in closer to Changmin and reached around to reposition the nozzle head.

“Better?”

He shot daggers at her. “Would be so much nicer if you weren’t in here, but yes I suppose it will do.”

“Sharing showers in movies always seems so easy.”

“Sharing showers with people only works if you’re about to do something in it. You’re not worrying about being out of the water droplets then.”

“Ahhh,” Kaia murmured with a nod, stepping closer to Changmin again. He eyed her appreciatively and she stretched up to his face. “Something like this?”

Kaia kissed his lips and he instantly responded, grabbing her body and pressing it against his. Taking advantage of his weakness, Kaia continued to kiss him and spun them around, pulling away from his lips to smile in triumph. He stared at her for a moment and then realised what she had done. By then, Kaia was happily rinsing the shampoo she had previously put into her hair.

“Goddammit woman,” he cursed and then grabbed for the soap, the pair of them fighting over the water until they were both done.

Kaia could tell that Changmin was on edge as he completed his morning and afternoon schedules. As the time ticked forward, he grew quieter and brooding. She didn’t like this side to him much, whenever he closed her out there was nothing she could do to help him. And since Kaia was there as a press member for SME and Korea Star, she was hardly allowed to overstep boundaries in front of all the professionals surrounding them. All the same, at every opportunity she tried to get his mind off his task ahead. It was fruitless on her behalf; Changmin had been trained too well to keep his mind on his job, even the dirty work.

“You reckon he will crack tonight?” Kaia asked Yunho worriedly as they stopped for a quick dinner and the older Korean shook his head. “But he seems so-”

“He’s psyching himself up to put on the best acting you’ll ever see live. Don’t worry, he’ll do us proud.”

“Right. What will he be like afterwards?” she wondered and Yunho gave her a weird look before smiling.

“You like him, don’t you?”

“W-what?!” Kaia cried and then shoved him playfully. “He’s your friend too, and he’s not happy, why wouldn’t you be concerned?”

“Changmin’s a big boy. He’s survived bigger deals than pretending to date some woman. But you however, how will you cope?”

Kaia frowned. “What do you mean? I don’t have a part in this.”

“Don’t you?” he asked, and leant down to her ear. “What about the agreement?”

“How does that have any implication here Yunho?” she asked weakly, feeling her heart beat slower. It was an awkward topic to be discussing, even though Kaia knew he was aware of it all.

“Emotions are tied into everything we do, Kaia.”

She nodded slowly. “I’m not really following.”

“You will in time.”

Although Kaia wasn’t allowed into the event being held that night, she got to see Kaori Kimura several times that evening. Kaia had been lucky enough to be a part of the staff admitted into the building though, the boys’ manager taking a bit of a shining to her with every cup of coffee she bought him without being asked to. Because of this, he seemed to like having Kaia wherever he was, and thus she was able to watch the monitor in the dressing room of what was happening at the event.

Her first encounter with the woman was on that screen, watching as she brightly smiled at the audience, her thin and elegant face making Kaia let out a sigh in awe. She was truly a classical beauty and for a moment Kaia wondered what exactly made Changmin despise the idea of being with the woman. She was truly envious of her carriage, and could understand why she was so many girls’ inspiration looks wise back in Korea. With this new judgement, Kaia was determined to tell Changmin he was being silly as soon as she saw him. She knew he was stubborn, but from what Kaia had seen, Kaori seemed so lovely.

This view soon changed when Kaia went to the bathroom and managed to see Kaori and an entourage of staff around her in person. She threw her fur shawl at a small Japanese woman beside her, whilst prattling off in the language. Although Kaia couldn’t understand much, the body language and vicious sounds that accompanied her words were enough for her to get the gist of the model’s true nature. Kaia stepped towards the door of the ladies room just as Kaori approached it and she gave Kaia a hard look, her dark eyes travelling up from her legs to her face, and finally settled with a smirk adorning her pouty lips. Kaia dove into the bathroom quickly then, feeling like Kaori’s eyes had attacked her. Taking a deep breath, she shakily went over to a cubicle and then washed her hands, looking into the mirror. A poster of Kaori Kimura was conveniently reflecting from the wall behind her and Kaia sighed, feeling a little inadequate still. She could now understand why Changmin found her so vulgar. She reminded Kaia of UEE’s character in the Korean drama You’re Beautiful with the many faces that she shared with the people around her. Making her way out of the room, Kaia hurried back to the TVXQ dressing room and waited for the pair to return.

The only way Kaia saw them for the following hour was on the monitor and she was unable to take much more of the acting between Changmin and Kaori. Yunho was right; his younger friend was very good at playing his part when requested. To the average viewer, they would be able to see some kind of romance was about to blossom between the pair. Kaia almost started to believe it herself as she watched the show, and the stylist whom Kaia had enjoyed the company of soon clasping her hands together.

“Aren’t they a dream worthy match?” Nayoung sighed happily and Kaia merely nodded in response. “Do you reckon Changmin will like her as much as she seems to like him?”

“Hard-” Kaia stopped her first thought and cleared her throat. “I’m not sure, but I wish them luck if they do end up together.”

“Fans will go crazy over it though.” She seemed to get serious over the matter. “Do you reckon they’d accept it? I mean Changmin is deemed a god in Cassiopeia’s eyes. And she’s truly a goddess. So perhaps fans will be happy that two people in the same league are together?”

“I’m not sure,” Kaia repeated though she felt sad at Nayoung’s statement. It made sense and that was probably what SME was counting on. Even though fans wished to be with Changmin, the likelihood of any idol dating a non-celebrity was as small a chance as winning the lottery twice in your lifetime. Kaia had been incredibly lucky to get as far as she had with Changmin, and they weren’t even dating.

Looking back at the screen, Kaia watched as the glamorous couple danced around under the romantic lighting and nodded to herself. It was a good thing she was not trying to date Shim Changmin after all.

_________________

Part 15

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

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[ghost-town-story]

James sat back on his heels, still hugging his ribs with one arm. “What,” he panted, “the hell was that?” 

Aiden shook his head, not sure if he could form words even if he wanted to. 

“Aiden, please.” James dragged his free hand through his hair. “I’m trying to understand—” 

“You can’t.” The words tore themselves from Aiden’s throat before he could even stop to think. “You can’t even begin to understand.” 

“I’m trying.” James staggered to his feet, and Aiden skipped back a few more paces. “I’m trying Aid, I want to help—” 

“You can’t!” Aiden took a deep, shuddering breath. “You still have your wings.” 

James’s entire body flinched, his dark grey feathers shuddering. 

“And I know,” Aiden panted, “I know that’s not your fault, but you can’t understand what it’s like. I can’t fly anymore James. I am the only person in the entire Sky Kingdom anymore who can’t fly. And now I’m stuck on the ground, and the only way I can fly again is at somebody else’s mercy.” 

“Aiden—” 

“I never asked for this James,” Aiden cried. “I never asked for any of this.” 

“I know that,” James replied. “But I don’t understand how that translates into putting your life at risk like this.” 

“Because it’s the closest I can get to flying on my own,” Aiden responded. “It’s the only way I can get off the ground without help.” 

James looked conflicted as he leaned against the cliff face, still cradling his ribs. “But if you got hurt,” he said. “If you had fallen like you did, but I wasn’t here to catch you. What then Aid? It’s a huge risk for you, and if your father knew—” 

“Do you care because of me?” Aiden cut him off. “Or do you just care because of my father?” Despite how he spat the last words, Aiden knew he couldn’t mask his expression, couldn’t hide how obviously he was pleading with James that his answer would be the former, not the latter. 

To his credit, James didn’t even hesitate before answering. “You’re my friend first Aiden, and as your friend I don’t want you falling to your death. But you can’t just forget about the fact that you’re the prince, the heir of Sky—” 

“Why not?” Tears were starting to blur Aiden’s vision. “I’m not even sure if I am the Sky heir, considering only half of the treaty actually got fulfilled.” 

Whatever reaction Aiden had expected from his words, he didn’t get it. Instead, James went almost perfectly still. “How do you know?” he asked softly.

 Aiden took a step back. “How do you?” he shot back, though his voice shook in anticipation of the answer. 

“My parents,” James explained. “They tend to gossip far too much considering they ended up raising three very nosy children.” 

Aiden let out a sound that was somewhere halfway between a sob and a laugh. 

“And you?” James’s voice had softened. 

Aiden took a shuddering breath. “I—I heard—Dad must’ve thought I was asleep, so he and Fi—Gr—the Flame king were talking about it. I didn’t get many details, I was…” he waved his hand vaguely, “but I got the gist of it.” 

“When?” 

Aiden bit his lip, his hand making its way over his shoulder, feeling scars on his back instead of feathers and wings. 

That was all the answer James needed. “Oh Aiden.” 

Aiden took two more steps back before James could even move. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice quieter than he would have liked. “Fi—The Flame king must’ve suspected something, so at least there’s Ashton to inherit the Flame throne. And it probably won’t be long before Dad has the same thoughts.” 

“What do you mean?” James was frowning. 

Aiden couldn’t help the slightly hysterical giggle that bubbled past his lips. “You don’t get it. For as long as I can remember, Dad’s main focus has been his duty to the throne. Do you really think he’ll let his half-Flame son take the throne now that the treaty’s been effectively rendered useless? No, what’s best for the throne is if he remarries and has a pure Sky heir. He knows that, I know that, so why bother pretending?” 

James shook his head. “Aiden—” 

“Don’t.” Aiden scrubbed at his cheeks, dashing away the tears. “Don’t try to convince me he cares. I’m just a pawn in this stupid game. I’ve just been deluding myself into thinking either of them could actually love me.” His voice broke on the last words, and Aiden screwed his eyes shut, pressing the back of his hand against his mouth to muffle the sobs that were threatening to tear free of his throat. 

[moviemumbojumbo]

12 Hulu Plus Movies that Look Just Bad Enough to Watch

I'm not a weird nerd, so I'm not into bad horror movies and ridiculous sci-fi movies like these:

And I'm also not an idiot who likes stupid huge studio movies:

HOWEVER I do like fun, and some movies are just bad enough to fall in the fun zone. I'm no snob, and there's something fun about throwing on a movie, getting drunk, and watching Catherine Zeta Jones fall in love despite her almost screwing it up because of her recent breakup shenanigans. There's something therapeutic about watching 1981 frat boys objectify women and come sooo close to getting thrown off campus. And hey, sometimes it's nice to watch a hot lady get trapped in a seductive web of lies. And if these movies have big stars in them, it's even more fun. Here are 10 mediocre movies that look kinda fun, are on Hulu Plus (7 bucks a month), and not on Netflix Instant.

1. PASSION PLAY

The cast of Meghan Fox, Mickey Rourke, and Bill Murray, along with the following Netflix synopsis really get me excited about this movie:

Restrained by a ruthless gangster, gorgeous Lily, a circus freak whose incredible wings make her look like an angel, yearns for freedom. After crossing paths with the trapped beauty, down-on-his-luck musician Nate commits himself to rescuing her.

2. AMERICAN BREAKDOWN

This cast is mind-blowing and all over the map: Paul Walker, Steve Carell, Paris Hilton, James Gandolfini, and Josh Hartnett. Steve Carell plays a serious dude with a gangster hat on. And the trailer says "5 strangers . . .bound by fate. . .set out on their own." Woohoo!

3. ADDICTED TO HER LOVE

This is a Lizzy Caplan post Mean Girls, pre Party Down, playing a hot blonde. "How far. . . would you go for love?" The boy who has a crush on Lizzy Caplan would DEAL DRUGS for love.

4. TOO YOUNG TO DIE?

Hell yes! 1990, stars Brad Pitt, Juliette Lewis, who were complete non-stars at the time. Pitt gets Lewis into drugs and hooking. She stabs a dude and goes to trial. This movie has a question mark in the title and also, it's made for TV. This particular cast captured in this particular time is the only reason to attempt this one.

5. SPEAKING OF SEX

This movie from 2001 has a big 'ol cast: James Spader! Melora Walters (from Magnolia)! Jay Mohr! Laura Flynn Boyle! Bill Murray! Catherine O'Hara! Megan Mullally and Nick Offerman make an appearance. Netflix describes this as a "slapstick sexual comedy".

6. THE ALMOST PERFECT BANK ROBBERY

A Brooke Shields action comedy from 1999. The title is self-explanatory.

7. AFTER.LIFE

Ok, wow. From 2009, this super natural thriller stars Christina Ricci, Liam Neeson, and Justin Long. For some reason there's a period inside the title. Here's the Hulu synopsis"

After a horrific car accident, Anna wakes up to find the funeral director preparing her body for her funeral. Trapped with no one to turn to, Anna is forced to believe that she is merely in transition to the afterlife…while feeling still very much alive.

8. TOMBOY

From 1985, this one looks cute, adorable, and sexist. It's about a "spunky" auto mechanic named Tomasina (what?) who goes by Tommy. She goes head to head on the race track with her race car driver crush, but there's a big problem: she's a chick who is capable of things, a.k.a. she's a tomboy.

9. PERSONAL EFFECTS

Cougar Michelle Pfeiffer goes after to a much younger Ashton Kutcher who has recently suffered a loss? Whoa! That's what I call a premise! 

10. WHO'S HARRY CRUMB

John Candy!! He plays a detective who dresses up in undercover costumes and does characters. 

11, MEN SEEKING WOMEN

Here's 1997 Will Ferrell flick. Three bros make a bet on who can get a girlfriend first. Another amazing Netflix synopsis will give you the gist.

A $2,000 bet is at stake in this battle of the sexes. Three single friends place a bet on which of them will be the first to find a girlfriend and live with her for three months. But what you gotta realize from the get-go is that these guys can't even make it past the first date! Stars Will Ferrell (with eyes that have more glaze than a Krispy Kreme donut) and Nia Vardalos.

12. THE WAY OF THE GUN

From the year 2000, this Crime Action Shootout Thriller stars Benicio Del Toro, Ryan Phillipe, and James Caan. Del Toro and Phillipe do a big crime and "run into major problems" according to Hulu.

[bcwallin]

Just Because It Never Happened Doesn’t Mean It Isn’t True

I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve seen the 2015 movie Steve Jobs. It’s the one that stars Michael Fassbender, not Ashton Kutcher. I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve tried to nudge my friends and family toward watching it, too. To them, it’s a movie that was seen and left behind by many in 2015; it’s no big deal. I’ve lost track of how many times my friends said they’d never watch this one pretty well-received, but otherwise, probably unremarkable movie, just because I’d seen it maybe 30 times or more. They’re concerned.

Even if I had the capacity to push them toward trying it (“people don’t know what they want until you show it to them”), my friends, my family, and my exasperated wife would walk away saying “That? That’s the movie you can’t shut up about?” It’s the movie I’ve seen the most under quarantine (including one watch each with the two commentaries that come on the Blu Ray), and possibly the same for the before times. I’ve finished it and started all over again. I’ve played it on the subway, listening only to the audio. I’ve watched or listened to it on more than one continent, up to three times in a day. I read the interviews and watched the New York Film Festival Q&A where Kate Winslet barely gets any questions and I’ve heard Aaron Sorkin’s many different ways of saying he didn’t want a “cradle-to-grave” structure and I’ve read Danny Boyle talking about his reverence for Sorkin. I wasted 2 hours watching the supremely mediocre Jobs, because when you’re stuck in an all-consuming relationship with a movie or a piece of art or a particularly good donut shop, you want to take in every variety and idea that you can. I’m like Agnès Varda and the gleaners in The Gleaners & I; I’m trying to glean. Everything I can.

If I went in order from here, telling how I first saw the movie with my mom, then revisited it 3 years later, then got it stuck in my head like a bad song and then like a really good song, in a beginning-to-end, beat-by-beat telling with all the hit moments along the way, I would’ve learned nothing from Steve Jobs, at least in terms of storytelling. If I kept going on this navel-gazing path of pointedly telling a story in a way that’s not like all those other stories — this story goes to a different school — then I would’ve learned nothing from my feelings toward Aaron Sorkin, whose language I like quite a lot, and who spent a lot of the Blu Ray commentary asking editor Elliot Graham why different bits of his language, which he, too, likes quite a lot, were removed from the movie. My most significant memory of Aaron Sorkin is him saying “Damn it, how could this have happened?” before telling you in his Masterclass ad why you shouldn’t write that. He’s an exacting guy and he probably sees himself in Steve Jobs and Boyle sees himself in Steve Jobs and I don’t see anything of myself in Steve Jobs, but I see some of myself in Andy Hertzfeld (Michael Stuhlbarg) wearing a loose-fitting t-shirt and tying his shoes onstage while Steve Jobs (Michael Fassbender) complains about a computer not doing what it’s supposed to do.

It’s so easy to go back to the old favorites. You hold onto what you’ve already got. For so many people, if their parents showed them a movie that came out before 1985 when they were young, it’s enough to make it a classic, but for any other movie from that not-so-distant past or earlier, they’d rather not come to it for the first time. It’s like what I say every so often, which is that I don’t want to be writing; I want to have written. But that’s not really true. Being stuck inside is concerning. The world is concerning right now. If this is being read in the future, the world may be concerning then, and I hope you’re doing alright. If you’re reading this at any time, I hope you’re doing alright. Jobs didn’t care if people were doing alright, if you’d believe the movie. Jobs didn’t care how most people were doing until he’d pushed them to their lowest point, if you’d believe the book it’s based on, Walter Isaacson’s biography.

Let’s talk about the reality of the movie. Steve Jobs is a biopic. Aaron Sorkin would tell you that it’s not a piece of journalism; it’s a piece of storytelling. (What else would he tell you?) I’ve seen the fictional and the real versions of the movie — or, at least, those versions of parts of the movie, because most of it didn’t happen — because old keynotes are available on YouTube. You can watch the movie, then see how it stacks up against reality, then back again. Sorkin’s big idea with this movie is not to use a “cradle-to-grave” structure (he uses this phrase a lot); it takes place in an approximation of real time before three different product launches that the real Steve Jobs was at the center of. If you watch the B-roll, you can see that Boyle recreated the keynote speeches from those launches, at least in part, but you don’t need to watch those bits and pieces to make the comparisons. You get either a bit of rehearsal, a discussion about a detail going into the launch, or something of the like. Sorkin’s works tend to slip in the bits and the pieces that you need to get the gist of what’s going down.

The presentation of the iMac in 1998 — which Boyle, following filming in the Flint Auditorium Center and the San Francisco Opera House in keeping with history, chose a new venue to shoot in — was fascinating, but there are still the hitches of reality. Jobs walks over to the computer and then a beat and then he clicks the mouse and another beat and then the demo. In Steve Jobs, the 2015 movie, Michael Fassbender plays Steve Jobs in the turtleneck and jeans he wasn’t wearing in 1998 at the launch of the iMac and says “This is the iMac,” and he pulls the cover off in synchronization with the sounds of the lights shutting off and Daniel Pemberton’s electric score takes over the scene, and it’s not just because the exit signs are off (you see? It’s like poetry; it rhymes) that this historical retelling feels so cool. It’s Reality+ and it’s comforting.

The end of the movie is kind of like that, too, but it’s disingenuous. On a rooftop parking lot that’s not actually on the rooftop of the building they shot in, Michael Fassbender, playing Steve Jobs, reconciles with his character’s daughter, Lisa. He brings back the drawing a different actress playing Lisa pretended to draw earlier and he unfolds it from his pocket and she looks at him as the lightbulbs flash and he smiles at her onstage and she loves her dad. It’s probably because the idealized products mimic the feelings we get when we see the unveilings and announcements, unless you’ve pledged yourself to a different phone company, in which case Apple is and always has been a company full of idea hacks and copycats. But people. People are what matter. Unless you’re Steve Jobs.

It can be intoxicating listening to “Great Men” even when you know they’re not great men. I’ve watched/listened a lot to Orson Welles’s The Other Side of the Wind, a movie about a “Great Man” that was directed by a “Great Man.” It’s a movie about the making of a movie, and both movies have the same name. Whether you watch it from the outside-in (production horrors in trying to get this movie to ever be made) or the inside-out (the psychological and physical torments by a repressed alpha male played by John Huston), you see these “Great Men” put their loved ones and acolytes through their onslaughts and then, you hope, it’ll all turn into something incredible. But The Other Side of the Wind wasn’t finished by J.J. Hannaford and the other The Other Side of the Windwasn’t finished by Orson Welles, and maybe everything Welles put cinematographer Gary Graver through (cf. the making-of documentary, They’ll Love Me When I’m Dead) and everything J.J. Hannaford (Welles stand-in-ish) put Brooks Otterlake through (Peter Bogdanovich stand-in) wasn’t really worth the failed end-result. But also I like my iPhone, so I can live with the past, I guess?

One of the pieces of Pemberton’s score for the 2015 movie Steve Jobs that I enjoy the most (and there are a lot of good parts) is what he described as an orchestra tuning up, which turns into a melody. It coalesces. That music plays while Michael Fassbender, playing Steve Jobs, says “I play the orchestra,” which is to say that Steve Jobs was best at getting other people to do things right. He did this by poking and prodding people in his exacting ways, repeating ideas back to people as if they were his, creating dichotomies between “insanely great” and “bullshit.” But was anything great ever made without alienating some people involved? Besides Paddington 2? If anybody walks out of Steve Jobs thinking that the lesson is to push people because that’s how they’ll do the best, it’s not the right lesson, but it’s also not a lesson the movie fully discourages, since everything pretty much works out for Michael Fassbender’s performance of Jobs. Even John Sculley (Jeff Daniels) comes back to give him a Newton (they edit in the words to Daniels’ mouth — if you watch the movie enough times, you pick up that he’s not moving his lips when words come out) because it’s a reconciliation. I also can’t help but love the sentiment of the scene and the way Daniels says “Let’s let it go now,” because even in the less real moments, Steve Jobs is a movie starring people at the top of their game (except in the last scene).

Michael Fassbender doesn’t do an impression of Steve Jobs and he doesn’t try to look like Steve Jobs, and that’s not just because he’s not Ashton Kutcher (who was in the 2013 movie Jobs, a different movie). It’s evocative. None of this happened, Andy Hertzfeld said, according to Aaron Sorkin, as recorded on the Blu Ray commentary. But all of this happened (except for the last scene). It’s art and it’s a masterclass on how to tell a story (a. I’m not really into using that phrase; b. Damn it, how could this have happened?) that doesn’t have to be the story you thought you should tell. And then Michael Fassbender says that line, “It’s like five minutes before every launch, everyone goes to a bar and gets drunk and tells me what they really think.” It’s still not as awkward as the Bob Dylan lyrics projected on the floor and walls (added digitally in post) in the first third of the movie (did you know it’s a three-act structure?), but these are also the thoughts of a person who’s seen the 2015 movie Steve Jobs over 30 times. Boyle likes comparing the story to Shakespeare, so I’ll just say about all this, “Take in what sense thou feel.”

It’s like music. It’s like music that has awkward lines (“I got over the Mac and Woz and Sculley the same way you get over your high school sweetheart; build a new one.”) and that feels like a stage play that had cutaways layered onto it, but not as many cutaways as the 2013 movie Jobs’ incessant need to show people applauding the genius of Jobs, its hero. The more you watch the movie, the more it feels preordained, because that’s how everything is supposed to happen (it doesn’t matter if I come to a satisfied conclusion about why watching Steve Jobs a lot is therapeutic — my wife will still be exasperated). Steve Jobs, the 2015 movie where Kate Winslet takes no prisoners and Michael Stuhlbarg breaks your heart, is my comfort movie, even though it’s an insanely tense movie where your worst nightmares of claustrophobia are filled with quick-paced dialogue and one-upmanship that feels a lot less clever when you start to notice how crafted it feels. But you barely notice it because of how amazing everybody is (except in the last scene — but Fassbender uses his lower teeth like a well-tuned instrument when he says “I’m poorly made”). It’s my comfort movie. I’ve accepted I’m alone in this. For those considering, there are two options the character Steve Jobs offers on one of his computers: “buy it or don’t.” I doubt my disinterested friends are still reading, but I’ll let it go now. Must be time.

Originally published on The Sundae