#but my sweetheart of an art director texted me and said he’s having a conversation about everything w him and leadership so

[itoldsunset]

rewatching ipytm episode 2: thoughts

apologies in advance for this very messy, very long bullet scene-by-scene commentary!

summary: this was a very hard episode to watch and rewatch. the frustration with teh is real, the hurt for oh-aew is real. but the fear of change and abandonment, and the fear of admitting your own insecurities, is SO coming of age and i love that we get to see teh grappling with what happens when the idealistic vision you had for your life slowly starts to crumble.

also, this episode (and possibly the entirety of part 2) was 100% the writers' and p'meen's love letter to comm arts students/graduates, and even though i am a total outsider to that world, it really touched my heart to see the diversity of experiences and struggles reflected here.

i love that we see how much closer teh has become with jai and khim!! this doesn't translate in the subs, but i thought it was interesting how teh used respectful pronouns with them when he was a first-year and now for the most part uses rude (familiar) pronouns with them as a second-year, even though they're still technically his seniors. i think it goes to show how close they've become since he first joined the drama club.

goy was so fucking CUTE in that scene when she said "oh, lots of boys are peeking at me, i'm shy" i think i'm in love 😭 also the cinematography of that scene!!

this episode does such a great job at making you feel uncomfortable along with the characters. i hated how uncomfortable teh was at the birthday party, and i could feel how out of place he felt there.

when mangpong talks about how easy it is for celebrities to make money and teh is clearly offended by that and speaks up against it (which results in yet another awkward uncomfortable moment), i feel like he's speaking up on behalf of khim who we later realize is basically his idol and the person he identifies the most with. i feel like p'meen and the writing team are really trying to represent the lives of people who go into communication arts, especially those who go in with an interest in performing arts. and for me that scene with mangpong communicates two things: 1) the defensiveness that comes with having your chosen career path misunderstood or reduced into something that's easy money, and 2) how close-knit and protective the drama club is of each other, because teh speaking up in defense of actors to me feels like he's defending this identity they all share as people who are struggling to make it in the industry.

oh-aew is SO sweet. getting a tattoo that resembles your partner's name gives me so much anxiety, but i guess he's 19 and has always been sure of his feelings so it does make sense for him. at first glance teh's reaction really just makes it sound like he's against tattoos, drinking, all that, like he's super old-fashioned, but it's not REALLY about the tattoo and we learn that later when they have their big fight and he blows up with all the nitpicky little things he's noticed about all the ways oh-aew has changed. i thought it was so cute how au basically showed off his tattoo to open the conversation for oh-aew to show teh his tattoo though. we love a supportive friend group!!!

"this tattoo is pretty. thank you." this is teh being as genuine as he can, as someone who is seriously not in touch with his own feelings and can't understand why he's so upset at oh-aew getting a tattoo. because again it's not the tattoo itself that's the problem, but what it represents for teh, which is oh-aew's world slowly expanding to include people and things that are foreign to teh, and he worries that one day that world won't have a place for him anymore.

drunk oh-aew speaking mandarin, and teh taking care of him!!! the only fluff we got all episode and i will cherish it forever and ever, like the aquarium scene from episode one. the fact that teh brought over the stuffed animal, kissed oh-aew on the forehead, and then decided to sleep over on the floor next to him? making him kimchi jjigae? so soft!! our boy has got a lot of issues to work through but he loves oh-aew for sure.

the scene where oh-aew is receiving feedback on his performance from his professor is so... oof. the fact that his classmate got positive feedback for portraying a gay man in a way that isn't stereotypical (read: masculine? i wonder?) and the fact that oh-aew was critiqued for unsuccessfully portraying the tone and mannerisms of a man who doesn't understand gay people? it's a bit subtler than what we hear from the casting director but i swear it's the same shit. and it really doesn't surprise me at all to see oh-aew not believe in himself and his ability to perform because of it.

teh saying "both of us" and being so excited about their casting opportunity!! 😭 and also, khim being such a sweetheart and helping them get this opportunity in the first place!

the contrast with how happy oh-aew looked when the advertising professor told him he had the right answer, compared to how torn down he looked after being critiqued and told he got a C by his acting professor (in front of the whole class!!). which tbh for me is subtle commentary on how much influence professors have on students' self-confidence and whether they believe in their own ability to succeed in their field.

the commentary on sexism and homophobia in the thai entertainment industry!! khim being told she looked too old, not smart enough, not believable, honestly all coded ways of saying she didn't fit in with the beauty standard they were going for. and while khim is saying this we see oh-aew is already getting nervous, because he's already had his confidence shaken by his experiences in class. and then when we get to the scene where the casting director says he's too girly and asks him to act more manly, we see oh-aew's mood shift completely, and honestly it hurts to watch. pp did such an amazing job here because i felt it, like the way oh-aew's eyes change, and then he swallows right after, and how unsettled he sounds trying to deliver the line again after hearing that critique.

oh-aew listening to khim tell teh about how hard it's been for her to break into the industry is so impactful, because you can already tell what he's thinking. is this really worth it? do i want this enough to endure people telling me over and over again i'm not masculine enough for them? is that going to be me in the future, being rejected from hundreds of castings and still not making it?

when teh hugs khim and says "we will get through this together," it's so clear that he identifies with her struggle. teh is someone who has worked his ass off to get to where he is (remember his fight with his mom where she said he lost sleep and was getting sick from all the studying he did?), and he sees himself in khim and her passion and ambition. meanwhile, we see oh-aew really doubting whether this is the right path for him.

i love how teh immediately asked if oh-aew was okay after oh-aew told him about what the casting director said, and how teh reassured him that he liked oh-aew the way he is. it's like, he so clearly cares for oh-aew and loves him so much and sometimes knows how to show it well, and then other times just fucks it up. it's so real??

oh-aew deciding to change majors three months into it is a very oh-aew thing to do, and what i mean by that is, this is a character who is super in touch with himself and his feelings and trusts in himself to make the right decisions. he's not afraid to change his mind (remember when he was testing out his feelings for bas and teh and then turned down bas once he knew?), he's bold and goes for what he wants. and i envy that about his character so much. but it makes me sad to know that the thing that was making him nervous during this scene was the fact that he was worried about how teh would react. like he went through all that questioning and critique himself, to finally discover his answer, only to now have to worry about whether his partner will accept him.

teh, on the other hand, has had his whole life planned out since forever. he feels the need to know and control everything. he has so much fear and insecurity. and he is stubborn and doesn't believe in giving up, which he believes is what oh-aew is doing. and on top of that, he sees this as another way in which he is losing oh-aew. one more thing oh-aew has in common with his friend group that doesn't include him. one more way that he's becoming a smaller part of oh-aew's world. oh-aew looked so small in the bathtub scene and i just wanted to hold him 😔

the 8 month time skip is a little jarring because of all the things we don't get to see, but i guess it makes sense if teh has been bottling up his insecurities about their relationship that it would all blow up in everyone's face in the way that it did at the dinner scene.

it was interesting to me how teh hesitated when oh-aew texted that he would join them for dinner, like teh didn't want oh-aew to come along with his drama club. and then once oh-aew arrives at the restaurant, we see that teh isn't totally happy either. it's like as much as teh feels like an outsider in oh-aew's world, he seems to also see oh-aew as an outsider in his own world too. and when top says he wanted to get into comm arts at anantasart but he didn't get in, we see teh's expression and it's like, a reminder that he gave up that spot for oh-aew, that teh didn't pass the admissions exam either, and that oh-aew who did pass has now "given up" on it (in teh's eyes) to pursue another major. it's like teh also feels betrayed on behalf of all the performing arts kids who are struggling to make their passion into a career.

i feel like i sort of get why teh said all that shit about oh-aew at the dinner table now. i'm not excusing it at all, that was super shitty of him. but i wonder if it's like, this is a thing they deal with in the performing arts, people giving up because it's so hard to make it in the industry. and you watch your friends leave one by one, and it keeps causing more and more doubt in yourself about whether you can make it. and now that teh sees oh-aew as someone who's given up, he doesn't want that energy at the dinner table with his drama friends, like he wants to protect them from that and keep up with this "we can get through this together" mentality that he keeps saying. so it's easier for him to try to dismiss it as oh-aew's personality flaw, rather than a legitimate change in career path, because he's worried about how it might affect his own friends in the drama club. and we see how protective teh is of khim, when he says "what the fuck did you just say?" like he really shares an identity with his drama club and it's clear he thinks oh-aew doesn't understand it or belong there.

needless to say, i was extremely stressed that entire dinner scene which i think means the writers, p'meen, and the actors did an excellent job.

their fight scene was really amazingly done and i am just stunned by teh's response when oh-aew asks him "what if this is who i really am, would you not like me anymore?" and teh thinks about it for a bit, and says "maybe." that's him being genuine, he's not trying to hurt oh-aew in saying that, and we can see him internally asking himself that question. but he doesn't know the answer, because he can't even be honest with himself about why he's upset at oh-aew. so he says the first thing he thinks which is an honest "maybe," and then he immediately regrets his words, and at some point he's going to have to learn that he can't just say the first thing that comes to mind, when other people's feelings are at stake. also, the fucking piano that plays? the violin? goddamn.

khim's character is really here to teach teh, and all of us, some life lessons. she is so real. her struggles are so real. life is fucking hard, and it's not fair, and no matter how hard you work or try you can't have it all. "the conditions for our lives are not the same" holy shit yes. she wants to take care of her family and her dog, she can't just think of herself. i feel like teh, who comes from a relatively modest background but has always had hoon as a father figure to support his mom, probably doesn't feel that same burden.

teh being frustrated and going to the bridge was beautiful. the crying hug scene at the dorm was so beautiful.

i love that in the end, teh finally owns up to his own insecurities and apologizes and admits he was wrong. of course, this was after oh-aew reached out to him first. i think it's totally realistic that we see his growth happening kind of slowly, but before the series ends he's going to need to be the first one to reach out, because oh-aew can't hold all of that on his own.

the last score when they hug under the moonlight, i love it!!

[ironwoman18]

We found love in a hopeless place part 3

Chapter 3: Encouragement.

Spencer was at his apartment with a cup of tea and looking at his phone like it was going to talk to him in any second.

He typed Max phone and saved it before taking a shower. But he was not sure if he should call her or not.

After all they just met and had a nice conversation but he was not sure what should be his next step so he decided to make a call.

He searched for the number and pressed the call button. He waited three seconds and a voice he knew so we'll answered it "hey pretty boy"

Spencer laughed "Hey Morgan" he smiled softly "how are you doing? How are Savannah and Hank?"

"I'm great and so are they. Hank missed you kid and so did I" Spencer had some tears, he missed them too "how are you doing? Especially after three months in jail"

"Amazing... Gosh that was the worst time of my life" said Spencer taking a deep breath "I'm out of service because the bureau want me out for a month to make sure I'm solid"

"Of course you are. You deal with the worst of this world and you have to get into their minds. You are as solid and the Great Canyon" Spencer laughed "how is your mom?"

"Well she and I decided to take her to some place where she can have the right medicines and someone who will treat her good. Not like I didn't do it but I was overwhelmed by her situation"

"Yeah also this work can't let you take proper care of her" Morgan said looking at his son sleeping "I can't imagine having Hank and still be in the BAU. This make me admired even more Hotch. He dealt with a baby, being the director of the BAU and Strauss"

"Then losing Hayley and stay in the BAU while he was single dad" added Spencer "Hotch knew how to mix both lifes and be good at both"

"Totally" there was a silence and Derek said "so why did you call me kid? Because I don't think you just did it to talk about the good old days"

Spencer laughed "well it's always good to remember the good old days" Derek laughed "but you're right. I need a big brother's advise" Derek smirked. I could imagine where this will go but he will let him continue "I had to go to therapy as part of my deal with the FBI bosses. Today it was my first meeting but the doctor decided to do a group therapy to made us relax a little" Spencer drank some tea and continue "one of the activities was talking to someone who was part of the group and I ended up with a woman... Her name is Max. And we had a good conversation and at the end she gave me her number but I don't know what to do..."

"Oh boy... I knew something like this will happen someday" said the former agent "my little brother is growing so fast" Spencer rolled his eyes "ok kid... Listen up... You have to text her so she can save your number ok?"

"Yeah..."

"She will wait for your first move so just act casual and ask for a coffee date. You can plan it for this weekend. Maybe even a walk in the park" Spencer did some agreement sounds as he remembered everything his friend said "don't be shy and be yourself"

"That's what makes me more nervous"

"Reid... You are amazing and even when I was annoyed by some things at work, I always admired how you kept true to yourself" Spencer smiled.

"Thank you so much Derek" he smiled big "good night"

"Alright kid good night and keep me posted ok?"

"Ok, see you" then both hung up and before he went to bed he did what Derek told him, he typed a text for her 'hey it's Spencer, the guy you met today' and hit send.

Some minutes later he got an answer 'took you long enough huh?' he could picture her with a smirk, which made him laugh then another message from her arrived 'I'm glad you texted me, I was getting nervous' he smiled softly.

'honestly I was nervous as well' Spencer was about to send but decided to make a bold move 'I was wondering if you would like to go out for a coffee?' he sent it to her.

Some minutes later her answer arrived 'sure I would love to. Is it ok at afternoon?'

'yeah it's ok. See you tomorrow' he sent it and smiled at that.

'See you tomorrow, Spencer :)' was her answer and he smiled more. He hoped to not screw up anything with her.

The next day Max texted him where to meet for there coffee date.

"So how was your psychology appointment?" Asked Max dad that morning.

"It was great. She did a group therapy as an introduction for her new patients. Next week will be my first private reunion"

"And how was it?"

"Pretty good. I met new people and I even made a friend"

"And may I know the name of this friend?"

"Spencer" her dad smiled softly but hide it from her "he's nice and very interesting man"

"And how did you meet him?" He kept a straight face.

"The doctor asked us to join with someone from the opposite sex and talk with them. He and I ended up together and we talked about random things. It was nice"

"I'm happy sweetheart. It's important that you don't lose your capacity to make friends with men. Especially after Mike"

"Yeah. It was so easy to talk with him. The conversation was back and forth and I liked it. Maybe I can introduce him to you sometime and we can watch a movie"

"Sounds great. I can't wait to meet your new friend" he smiled at her "and I was wondering. Are you going to tell your sisters?"

"No... Michelle and Eloise are going to overreact if they know and think he is my boyfriend so I prefer not to tell them"

"Oh come on Max. They deserve to know it. I mean they don't need to think he is your boyfriend. You have other men that are your friends"

"But you know that Mauro doesn't count. He's gay and Edward is married"

"And this Spencer is single, I assume huh?" Max suddenly blushed "oh yeah he is" smirked Dom "Max if you like him, don't be ashamed"

"Dad!" Said her even redder "it's not that. Well yes but I want to go slow because last time I went to fast and I ended up heartbroken"

"Sweetheart I understand and I can tell you like him so I will respect you"

"Thanks dad" she hugged him tight "now I have to leave. I will go to see him" her father nodded and kissed her cheek.

"See you sweetie" then she left his house.

OOooOOooOO

This chapter was more to make them talk about this new person they just met. I hope you liked it. Let me know what you thought.

Next chapter will be their second conversation. What should they talk about? Also I'm not sure the timeline so I was thinking about making this fic right before the beginning of the school year. Which I think it's September.

So I wanted Max to be working in a community center or in a summer camp as art teacher during summer. And she could talk about it to him.

Let me know what you think. Oh and thank you for the people who like, subscribe and review this story. There aren't a lot but still want to send my love to them.

[everlarkbirthdaygifts]

Happy Birthday alliswell21!

Firstly, we want to apologize to @alliswell21 for the delay of her gift. We hope you had a lovely birthday on the 21st of October! To ad further cheer to your day, the wonderful @wildlyglittering has written a special Everlark fic just for you! We hope you enjoy it :)

Title: Into the Woods

Gift for: alliswell21

 Rating: M

 Trigger warnings: swearing, sexual situations

 Author’s note: I’m so sorry for the delay. I am an incredibly slow writer. Please slap my wrists for this one.

“Is that a Pumpkin Spice Latte,” murmured the voice, honeyed and low, in my ear, “or are you drinking the blood of your enemies?”

               “Ugh,” I made a sound of disgust and shrugged away from him, making sure my shoulder collided with his jaw as I moved. Great, I thought. Golden-douche is here. One hour without him was all I wanted today, just one solid hour. 

               He moved around the table to sit opposite me, completely uninvited, not that he cared, and began removing his coat. When I knew he couldn’t see I took a glance down his body and noticed that water had splashed his trousers and the coat that was now hanging on the back of his chair held a thick, woollen scent. He’d obviously been caught in the rain. I felt a sliver of mean spirited joy but hid my smile behind my mug as a I took a sip.

               “Not looking so dry, Peeta,” I said. “Did your face collide directly with a rain cloud?”

               As he sat he shook out his hair, water droplets bouncing onto the table, he grinned at me, unbothered by my comment. His arrogance probably meant he thought he still looked good. I took another quick glance, this time at his face and noted that, unfairly, he didn’t look too bad. His golden-douche hair had been turned a darker shade by the rain and his usual loose waves had begun to curl more around his ears.

               A drip on one of those newly darkened strands dripped onto the side of his face and travelled down to his jaw before he reached up to wipe it away. My brain told my eyes to stop looking.

               “Yes,” was all he said, “I suppose it’s a little wet out there.”

               My eyebrows went up. It was one of the rainiest afternoons that our District had on record and he had ventured outside in it. Peeta gave a nonchalant shrug and looked over at me and I noted how his eyes glanced down, very briefly, to my mouth as I took another sip.

               “So, Katniss, what are we doing?” This time his eyes met mine, his obnoxiously blue ones shining and I fought the urge to roll my own. On second thoughts, there were no prizes for restraint.

               “We, are doing nothing. I, am having a coffee and reading my emails. You, are interrupting me.”

               “Is that the one from Haymitch?” Before I had the chance to reply, Peeta had reached over and grabbed the paper placed in front of me. When he first found out that I liked to print out my emails and colour code the relevant text he had mocked me for days. Now though it seemed like they were useful.

               I protested at the intrusion, “Hey! I was reading that!”

               “Sorry,” he replied but didn’t seem anything of the sort. He was reading his way through the print-out and about a third of the way down he began to chew on his lip, worrying the flesh with his white teeth. That was... interesting. Peeta never showed anything other than relaxed cockiness. He must have gotten to that paragraph. The one that I’d highlighted in red which meant ‘panic.’

“Yeah,” he said. “It was shit the first time I read it and it’s still shit now.” He sighed and sat back, running a hand through his hair. Some more errant drops of water slid down his neck, trailing down the pale skin.

I snatched back the paper, the words swimming out at me, black on white. The key ones burned into my eyeballs, ‘two dumbasses,’ ‘professionalism,’ ‘working relationship,’ and worst of all, ‘off the project.’

Though I had anxiety digging a hole in stomach I wasn’t expecting Peeta to be worried so his concern came as a surprise. We’d both been sat in the downtown office when the email came through. I’d known that Haymitch was irritated and it was all down to the fairy woods set. Or more to the point, the disagreement we’d had on the set.

I knew there would be a rebuke but the email stated, in no uncertain terms, that if Peeta and I couldn’t find a way to work together then we’d both be off the project.

When I read it all I wanted to do was run, so I printed off the email, grabbed my bag and announced that I was heading to Sae’s Café. One look at Peeta’s face behind his desk gave nothing away. His calm stuck in my throat and I stormed off, the clouds matching my mood, but I made sure to grab his umbrella beside his desk before I left.

I took in Peeta’s face again and now saw the furrowing of his forehead and the way his lips drew down. I found myself saying, “I didn’t think you’d care about being off the project.”

His face smoothed itself back into a careful neutrality. “I happen,” he stated, “to love this project.” I snorted and his eyebrows shot up. “Why is that so funny exactly?”

“Well you say you love it yet you were planning on butchering it with your designs.” A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Why couldn’t you just let me lead on the woods? Everyone knows that’s my area! You were deliberately sabotaging my idea and...”

“Sabotaging!” he interrupted. “Like hell I was!” He leant forward, his jaw clenching and unclenching. “You are the best outdoor set designer, I’ll give you that, and you have an excellent eye for realism but dammit Katniss you are so goddamn stubborn! You won’t admit when you’re out of your depth and you were with this set. Frankly, you fail at anything imaginative!”

I tried to ignore the sting that came with his words. “It’s a wood.”

“It. Is. A. Fucking. Fairy. Wood.”

Here we were again. Glaring at each other and re-hashing the argument that got us into this situation in the first place. My fingers itched and I curled them into my palms. I fought the urge to stand up, grab my bag and storm off. Again.

The disdain had been simmering along at a level that we had managed to ignore but the recent argument had boiled everything over. I knew there was no return to before, if we didn’t try and resolve this we both had something to lose. It seemed that Peeta reached the same conclusion at the same time, and I watched as he rubbed a hand over his face.      

It was as though he had wiped away his frustration and I saw his face lose its hardness. “Listen,” he looked tired. “I suggest that we try and put these issues aside and find a way to work together. Hell, we’ll get Haymitch to mediate if needed.”

I pulled a face at that but thought of the email again, ‘off the project,’ floating around in the pool of my memory. I swallowed any bitter response down and nodded. That seemed to buoy Peeta and he continued talking, “We’ll apologise to Haymitch, profusely, bash out the project and then we can hate-fuck it out to celebrate. Agreed?”

“Excuse me?” My voice came out like a hiss even though a weird little thrill travelled through me. “What the actual fuck?”

The goddam shine was back in his eyes. Whatever apprehension he’d experiences had evaporated like water and he was clearly getting one last goad in. Well fine, I would bite.

“No,” I ground out. “We’ll work on this project, which by the way is based on my original design, and then you can go hate-fuck yourself and cry about it afterwards. Agreed?”

He flashed me a grin. “Well, that just doesn’t sound as fun.”

 ****

 By the time I arrived the set was a hustle of activity. I waved a hello at Rue, possibly the sweetest set runner I had ever met, and then made my way over to where I could see Haymitch and Peeta standing. It didn’t particularly look like a conversation I wanted to join with Haymitch gesticulating at something above their heads whilst Peeta frowned, hands resting on his hips.

               It looked like Peeta had been running his hands through his hair, strands of blonde waves were sticking up all over the place. But then, that’s probably exactly what he had been doing. In the three weeks since Haymitch sent his email, and after the individual chew out’s we’d received, we’d made a point to cooperate and if that meant working closer together then so be it.

               The constant contact meant I was beginning to pick up on a few of Peeta’s ‘tells.’ He was one of the calmest people I had ever met but there was an undercurrent of frustration that occasionally ran through him. This frustration, which I’d once thought was solely because of me, was based on greater things, including his never-ending sense of perfectionism. In a way I was disappointed, I didn’t know why but the idea of it being me that was getting under his skin was slightly enticing.

               Haymitch saw me approach. “About time, sweetheart,” he grumbled. “Where the hell have you been?”

               I shot him a look that hopefully conveyed exactly what I thought about that nickname. “I was dealing with Glimmer.” The ridiculously named, blonde and beautiful art director who I had to have yet another meeting with.

               “There was a meeting with cotton-for-brains and you were the one that went?” Haymitch looked incredulous. “Why the hell didn’t the boy go?”

               Out of the corner of my eye I saw Peeta frown harder, clearly just as enthused about his nickname as I was mine. Despite us getting on better I couldn’t help but squeeze a small dig in. “Because, the boy didn’t want to go.”

               Peeta stepped forward towards me. “Hey, I’d appreciate the demeaning nicknames be kept to an absolute zero, sweetheart.” He held no humour in his voice and when he met my eyes head on there was no jest there either.

               Fine. I would play. I opened my mouth to retort but Haymitch jumped in first, throwing his hands up to the ceiling. “Jesus Christ, are we fucking back to this?” He looked between us. “Do not start this again because I swear to god if you do, I will smack your heads together faster than you can say ‘over fucking budget.’”

               “You,” he pointed at Peeta, “sort out the damn trees, do it cheap, and do it now. And you,” he turned to me, jabbing a nail bitten finger my way, “do not piss Glimmer off, she’s already gunning for us for some goddamned reason and having you turn up to make good is not exactly what I would call a plan.” With a final piercing look at us both he said, “Don’t fuck this up.” I watched his back as he went.

                “Well, that was rude.”

               I turned to face Peeta. The little muscle was going in his jaw and his eyes flashed with irritation but, as quickly as it appeared, it was gone and then he was sighing and running a hand over his face. I felt a pang of sympathy for him. This project was bigger than we both originally thought and he was taking the lead on a difficult set. His blue eyes were puffy and his broad shoulders seemed to sag. The urge that I would have once had to comment on his stressed appearance was no longer there. Instead, I found myself asking, “Are you ok?”

               Peeta looked at me, eyebrows raised and I felt a blush rise to my cheeks. Why did he look so surprised? Was it unusual to ask how someone was feeling? Was it that unusual for it to be me that sked how someone was feeling. For a moment I thought he would make an acrid remark and prepared myself, feeling somehow sad that he would. But he just glanced at me, thoughtful eyes swept over my face, lingered on my pink cheeks without comment before falling to look at my lips. He quickly glanced away.

               “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Haymitch is just being... Haymitch.” He let out a little laugh. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

               “He’s a pill when he’s like this. I think I preferred it when he was drinking.”

               I saw Peeta’s eyebrows stretch up to his hairline even more. “You did not just say that.”

               “Didn’t I?” I said, feigning innocence.

               A slow, wicked grin crept onto his face. “Katniss Everdeen, such unexpected sass.” He winked at me, “I think I like it.”

               The blush that was on my cheeks burned again and the flush bloomed down my neck. You are, I thought to myself, a grown woman. Get a grip. It wouldn’t do blushing like a virgin schoolgirl and it wouldn’t do to start flirting with Peeta.

               “Yeah well,” I replied with an eye roll, “try not to.” I waved my hand towards the set, ignoring the fact that he was still looking at me and smiling. “Don’t you have to go fix some trees?”

               “I thought you were the forest expert?”

               “It’s a fairy wood, aren’t you the expert at things that aren’t real? Don’t be such a golden-douche.” It slipped out before I meant it to but my tone held no bite. I looked over at him from the corner of my eye only to see his shoulders shaking in laughter.

               “Golden-douche?”

               “Yeah,” I shrugged. “On account of your hair and your general douchebaggery.”

               “Oh... I see.” His wicked grin grew lazy and spread wider on his stupid, handsome face. “You refer to my hair as ‘golden’ huh? What do you refer to my eyes? Azure? Cerulean? How about... Sapphire?”

“And there is that general douchebaggery I was referring to.”

“Ah, Katniss,” he replied. “That hate-fuck is beginning to look more like begrudge-fuck.”

I flipped him the bird. “Go begrudge-fuck yourself,” and then I walked off, the sound of his laughter ringing like a bell in my ears.

****

 If there was anything I hated, it was being wrong.

               Months ago, I’d been sat in Haymitch’s office, pouring over the designs for the set we all hated. The fairy woods. It needed to be grandiose, it needed to be ethereal and it needed to be done on budget.

               “Katniss,” Haymitch had said to me. “There is no one here that can compare with you when it comes to nature designs, but...” and he seemed hesitant for the first time I had known him.

               “But, what?”

               “They’re dull.”

               “Dull? What the hell does that mean?!”

               He’d told me that I had a great eye for realism but fantasy elements and outside the box thinking weren’t my strengths and so they were bringing in someone from one of the other teams to work with me. That was where it had all started, Katniss Everdeen and her wounded pride.

               Receiving criticism was not my strength. Nor was giving praise. It had bothered me that we needed Peeta’s more imaginative eye but what bothered me more was that he deserved praise I had to yet to give. Not that he would have cared about what I thought, I’m sure.

               The set was nearly completed and I still hadn’t said anything. Every time we were on set I was awed at what we’d managed to achieve. The trees somehow stretched into an endless colour changing sky, the lichen on the trees glowed a deep, molten silver and gold seemed to pour out from beneath the tree bark.

               I wondered if my face took on the enthusiasm and delight of a child when I looked at it all, because that’s what I felt inside. Still, when I thought Peeta was looking I attempted chilled neutrality. It seemed that I had to do that a lot lately, attempt chilled neutrality, as I swore he was looking at me an awful lot more. Problem is, I only knew this because I was doing an awful lot of looking back.

               We’d found a strange balance along the way and as long as nothing threw off the equilibrium we would be fine. Absolutely fine. Which is why I surprised myself by doing just that.

                               The laughter I could hear across the set wasn’t Peeta’s usual booming one but was light, giggly and sounded flirty. There, deep within the woods, past a few of the silvery trees, stood Peeta and Glimmer side by side. A thought came to my mind to turn around and leave them alone, it is never a good idea to go into the woods, it only leads to disaster. But I shook the thought out, these weren’t real woods and it was only Peeta.

               I affected a look of disinterest as I approached them. “Hey,” I said.

               They both stopped talking and watched as I stepped over fake roots. Glimmer’s face slipped from pleased to pissed while the smile lines around Peeta’s eyes deepened.

               I held out the takeout cup to him, “I got you a coffee.” I made sure he could see where Sae had written ‘golden-douche’ on it. He took it with a grin and a wink and for a moment by stomach pitched downwards. “Sorry Glimmer,” I said to her, not at all sorry. “I didn’t know you were here.”

               Glimmer’s pretty pink mouth turned upwards into a saccharine, and completely fake, smile. “Not at all,” she waved a hand at me. “I was just coming to see how my favourite set designer was doing with my favourite set.”

She turned, smiling at Peeta and gave his bare arm a squeeze. I caught how her fingers trailed lightly on his skin and clutched my own coffee a bit tighter. “Katniss, I was just telling Peeta how amazing his design is and what a talent he is. Don’t you think?”

I gave a grumble behind my hot beverage barrier that sounded like an agreement.

“Well, I just added some bits to Katniss’ original design,” I heard Peeta say. “I added the fantastical elements, but if it wasn’t for her base we wouldn’t have had much of a set to work on.” His comment surprised me and I looked over to see him watching me. I offered up a small, appreciative smile and he surprised me further by offering a small - but warm - one back.

“But it’s the fantastical elements that really make it come alive,” Glimmer continued. “If we wanted normal woods we wouldn’t have needed to bring you in.” She waved a hand around the set again. “This is so much more effort than normal, boring woods, don’t you think?”

I seethed behind my coffee, steam either coming from the hot liquid or my ears. My usual conversations with her were like this, barbed comments aiming for the jugular but hidden underneath a sugary sweet tone. This was the first time that she had tried to embarrass me in front of someone, and it was Peeta no less. For some reason that made it worse.

“Glim,” I heard Peeta say, his voice low but not honeyed. “I think you should be more respectful of Katniss’ work.” I looked up and saw the smile melt off her face.

“It takes an incredible amount of effort and an observant eye to replicate reality and get it spot on. I mean, have you seen the tree bark?” Peeta gestured out to the tree next to where he was standing. “Do you know the amount of time it takes to get the texture correct? Or the colours? It’s not just brown you’re looking at, it’s the right shade of brown, and the green and silver and red.”

Glimmer’s mouth drew itself into a straight line. “Sorry Peeta, I didn’t realise that you felt that strongly about.... trees,” she looked over at me. “I have to go. I was only passing to say congratulations on a job well done. To you both.”

We watched her retreat and I let out a sigh. “You didn’t need to say all that you know. I’m a big girl. I can cope with her petty little knock-backs.”

Peeta shrugged and didn’t look at me. “Well, it was bothering me. You did just as good a job so she didn’t need to be like that.”

We stood there on the set, in the middle of the woods, in silence. Guilt started to gnaw away at me. If he could be complimentary about my work why couldn’t I just swallow my pride and say ‘well done Peeta, it looks beautiful.’ This was the moment if there ever was one. But I couldn’t. My mouth stayed shut until I decided to go ahead and ruin the balance we had earned.

“I know she didn’t but you didn’t need to defend me. I know my work is good and I don’t need you to tell her it is, it should speak for itself.”

Peeta’s mouth pursed and he spoke slowly, as though I was a child. “It does... speak for itself but I just wanted to point out the obvious to her. I think she is a little... biased and it doesn’t hurt to have someone on side.”

“I don’t need you on side.”

His eyes slid over to me and narrowed, the shining blue darkening. “What exactly,” his voice dangerously low, “is your problem here?”

I didn’t know. I didn’t know if it was because I had busted my ass on this project before Peeta turned up and he was now being hailed as some wonder boy, I didn’t know if it was because no one apart from Peeta had praised my actual contribution to the design and I was pathetically jealous and insecure. I didn’t know if it was because Peeta had called Glimmer ‘Glim’ and that she had trailed her fingers all over his skin. I didn’t know if it was because he seemed comfortable in letting her.

“She rode me hard for weeks,” was all I said. “All she did was bust me for the overspend, the design quality, how long it was taking to get the damn thing done and here she is singing your praises like I had nothing to do with anything.” I shook my head and went for the throat. “She rode me hard but honestly from the way she was panting at you I could wonder if you had been doing the same to her.”

It was a nasty comment, not meant to mean anything apart from cause hurt. I expected Peeta to protest in angry indignation and fight back. Except... he didn’t. I looked up sharply at his silence and felt a tremble of something in my stomach.

His eyes remained dark and angry and were boring into my face but his cheeks had gone a faint pink, the tips of his ears too. I watched his throat as he swallowed, the Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Oh,” I said. It came out soft. “Right.”

“Katniss...”

“No, I’m sorry I said anything.” I looked at the ground, at the fake grass, covered in fake leaves. “It’s not my business who you have relationships with.”

“We’re not in a relationship.”

“Or who you’re fucking.” I cringed as I said it.

“We’re not fucking.” He sighed, “Katniss...”

The ethereal beauty of the set now just seemed fake. All those pretty silvers and golds were just grey and yellow. The coffee tasted like mud and whatever I had with Peeta was...nothing. That was where I had gone wrong. For some reason I’d thought the growing joviality between us, the looks, the smiles, had meant more than it did. That was my fault, not his.

“I’ve got to go,” I told him. “I’m sure Haymitch wanted to have a progress update.”

Without waiting for a response from him, I walked off.

The project was almost completed, ‘we can hate-fuck it out to celebrate,’ Peeta had once said about when it was all over. At the time I’d been both angry and thrilled. Not that I wanted to hate-fuck it out at all, but if I was being honest with myself there was obviously something there that appealed to me.

I chucked my half-full coffee into the trash as I exited the studio and rolled my eyes at myself, feeling stupid. If there was anything, I said to myself, it would have been a pity-fuck. A sad, Katniss can’t get the job right, pity-fuck. I went straight home.

 ***

  It was late and I was cursing myself. Haymitch had called telling me there were problems with the meadow set and that ‘I get my ass down there first thing tomorrow morning and sort it out.’ My charming boss with his charming way with words.

               I’d rolled my eyes, confirmed I would, hung up on him and tried to enjoy the rest of my evening doing nothing at home. It was half an hour later that a sinking feeling hit my stomach. Shit, I thought. My binder wasn’t here. Racking my brains, I realised I’d left it at the last place I’d been, in the studio at the woods set.

I groaned. The meadow set was in a completely different studio halfway across the district. Trying to get from one place to the other in the morning would be impossible with the traffic. Haymitch would kill me if I wasn’t there on time but without that binder he would kill me anyway because I couldn’t fix anything without knowing what I was supposed to be fixing.

               I had one option and that was to collect the binder now. I shoved on some leggings and pulled an old sweater over my camisole thanking my stars I had the code to the building. If I was quick I could make it back in time to watch my programme before it started which was the sole highlight of my evening.

               When I arrived the night security guard recognised me and waved me in. “Busy night tonight,” he told me. “Only two of you but still, that’s busy for this time of night.”

               I frowned wondering who else was at the studio at this time of night and got my answer as soon as I pulled into a parking space. Two spaces down sat Peeta’s car. Great. I debated not going in but knew that was ridiculous. What was the point of driving all the way here to turn back empty handed? If I was lucky I could get in and out without him seeing me and if he did, well I was an adult. I was sure I could be civil.

               I wandered in, feeling nervous. I didn’t want to bump into him but then, some part of me did. We’d had that awful conversation on set three weeks ago and since then we’d gone back to playing the avoidance game. Well, I had. Peeta seemed to keep trying to talk to me but I always had a good excuse to get away.

               The studio wasn’t lit up fully but enough so that someone could make their way around the set and I wondered why Peeta was here. On the table to the side I could see my binder, all I needed to do was pick it up and leave. No one, aside from the security guard, would know I had been here. And then, for some inexplicable reason, I cleared my throat. Loudly.

               “Hello?” I heard Peeta’s voice from the set and his loud footsteps as they walked towards me. “Who’s... Katniss?”

               I turned to face him, noting his confused expression. “What are you doing here?”

               “I forgot my binder.” I picked it up and waggled it. “I need it for tomorrow, problem with the meadow set, so....”

               “Right,” he nodded. We stood opposite each other in silence.

               “What are you doing here? It’s a bit late.”

               Peeta sighed. “I honestly hate this set. I got a call from Haymitch telling me that some water damage had happened to some of the trees. God knows how, and now I’m just trying to get it sorted.”

               “This late?”

               He shrugged. “I had nothing better to do.”

               It was on the tip of my tongue to say, ‘what, not ‘Glim?’ but that was cold and unfair and completely borne from a place of my own jealously.

               “Do you want help?” My brain cursed at me.

               He seemed surprised but not unhappy and he let out a breath. “If you don’t mind?”

               “Sure.”

               We walked to the damage and I saw that some bark had begun to peel. I laughed and touched it, “It’s not at all funny but it looks just like real bark, except it’s sodden.”

               Peeta sighed again. “My wood got wet.”

               I gasped and looked over to him, “Peeta!”

               “Sorry, sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Completely inappropriate,” but there was a small twinkle in his eyes that told me he wasn’t that sorry.

               “We could get some heaters to dry it out,” I said, turning back to the tree and choosing to ignore him, “but if we don’t know where the leak is coming from then it wouldn’t...”

               “Katniss.” He said my name with determination but I could detect a slight tremor. “I’m sorry.”

               I paused. I didn’t understand why he was apologising to me, I wasn’t too sure what he had done wrong, not really. I turned back to him. His eyes implored me to hear him out, his palms outstretched in a calming manner. “Why are you sorry?” I asked.

               “Because I think somewhere along the way I’ve screwed something up.”

               I looked down at the ground. “No, you haven’t. I just...,” I paused, not too sure how to continue. “It’s none of my business about you and Glimmer, really it isn’t.”

               “I’m not seeing her,” he said. “And I’m not sleeping with her. I have slept with her, months ago. A couple of times. There’s nothing I can do about that, it’s happened. I just don’t want you thinking that’s why I ended up on this job, that I slept my way into it. I was already on the job when Glimmer and I hooked up.”

               His statement did funny things to my stomach but it just added onto the guilt that I was already feeling. It wasn’t his fault I was a pathetic mess.

               “Peeta, shut up.”

               “Excuse me?” He laughed a little disbelievingly. “I’m apologising and you’re telling me to shut up?”

               “Yes, exactly!”

               “This is going well...”

               I shook my head. “I mean... you don’t need to apologise. I should be apologising to you.” I took a deep breath. “I don’t think you slept your way into this job, I mean, look at your design,” I gestured around us, “it’s quite obvious that you’re here because of your talent. I was jealous.”

               “Of my talent?”

               “No.” I took another deep breath. “Of Glimmer, actually.”

               It took a moment and then his face changed, confusion blended into understanding and then a soft, warm smile appeared on his face. “Oh, I see.”

               “This whole conversation is embarrassing me. I know I said I was going to help but I think I might just take my binder and go home.”

               “You know,” his voice was low and honeyed and wonderful as he stepped towards me, “I had a lot of inspiration to draw on when designing this place. An artist takes inspiration from everything.”

               I snorted, “Right, like what?”

               “Well, the gold from the trees is inspired by my hair,” he shook his head as he came closer, the blonde waves bouncing. “Obviously.”

               “Obviously, I see we’re back to being golden-douche.”

               “But hearing you talk about the woods you knew as a child really helped draw out my creative side.” He stood in front of me now and he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. It lingered for a while as his eyes bore into mine before a fingertip trailed down my neck and onto my collar bone.

“And the silver in the trees? Well, that’s pretty special too.” His fingertip ran a pathway across my skin, tracing the bone and I shivered.

“That tickles,” I said. “But go on.”

He smiled and leant in, his broad shoulders stretched out in front of me, his blue eyes dark and delicious. The pupils were fat and black, squeezing out the colour. Peeta’s mouth was inches away from mine and all I needed to do was stand on my tiptoes and then our lips would meet.

“That particular shade was inspired by the eyes of someone who spent most of their days glaring at me.”

“I didn’t glare!”

“Who says I’m talking about you?” But he was grinning and his hands were now cupping my face, tilting it upwards to meet his. My hands dropped the binder I had been holding and I brought them up to grasp at his shirt. His chest was warm and hard beneath my palms and I clenched the material in my fingers. It was slow, how we were moving, and I just wanted to grab him and wrench him downwards.

“Peeta,” I whispered.

“Uhuh?”

“This isn’t going to be a pity kiss, is it?”

His nose was tracing a path on my temple. A slow kiss was pressed against my cheekbone. “Nope.”

“Are you sure?”

His nose skimmed across the bridge of mine to my other cheek where another kiss was planted. “Yes.”

I could hear his breathing deepen, as though being so close to me was exciting him. His body burned beneath my hands and I just wanted to slide my palms under his shirt and let them explore his skin. The thumbs that rested on either side of my face gently rubbed back and forth and it was almost ridiculous. Two adults standing in the middle of a fake fairy wood, almost kissing, but not quite. My stomach had changed its mission and swooped low in anticipation. The guilt and the jealously had long dissipated and all I wanted to do was press his hard body against mine and indulge in... something.

“Peeta?”

“Uhuh?” There was a smile on his face and I could feel it pressed against my ear.

“Didn’t you promise me a hate-fuck?”

He pulled back and I saw the shock on his face. My hands trailed down his shirt to his hips and I looped my fingers in his belt, pulling his body close to mine. My pelvis pressed against his and I slipped my hands to his backside to pull him even closer. I was being more forward than I ever had in my life. I didn’t know where this side of me had come from but I wasn’t too worried about stopping.

“I’m not going to hate-fuck you, Katniss.”

My heart dropped. It was probably for the best, we had no established relationship, we didn’t know what we were and besides, we weren’t anywhere remotely suitable. Just as I was about to pull away, Peeta’s hands left my face and skimmed down my neck, past my shoulders and down to my lower back. “That’s not to say I won’t fuck you,” he murmured.

My eyes widened as his hands slid down to my ass and pushed me in tighter to his groin. I gasped as I felt his hardness press against my pelvis and then he was bridging the gap and leaning forward to catch my lips with his own.

His were soft but insistent and they slanted over mine, pulling and sucking my lower lip between his, nibbling gently with his teeth. I groaned and shifted, tugging his hips further towards me and undulating mine against his. We pressed together and released and pressed together again, more urgent this time. His breathing grew harsher.

I pulled my mouth away, but not far. “We shouldn’t do this here.”

“Yeah, you’re right. We probably shouldn’t.” But then he was capturing my mouth again, his tongue sliding against mine, our hips flexing and pushing. I could feel his erection straining against the fly of his jeans which pressed against the thin material of my leggings. He was so hot, so hard and my heart thundered in my chest. Our hips sped up, crashing against each other and I relinquished the hold I had to do what I wanted, slide my hands under his shirt to press against his flesh.

Peeta’s hands reminded on my ass and I let him drive me into him over and over as I felt the heat of his skin on my palms. I smoothed them over his stomach and towards his back and he made a low, male sound that made my stomach swoop. His tongue left my mouth and he bent his head lower, trailing across my throat as I tipped it back, trying to breath more air into my lungs.

He smelt of Peeta and it was intoxicating. Forget air, all I wanted to do was breath him into my lungs. I whined and sunk my nails into his bare sides, hearing him grunt against the dip in my throat. “Peeta,” I said again. “We’re on set.”

He pulled back, eyes so dark they were almost black and his lips were deliciously swollen. “Do you want to stop?” he asked, but his tone made it sound as though it was the most painful question ever. Which it was.

“No, but we can’t take our time.” I glanced around quickly, worried that the security guard would come check on us at any moment.

Peeta licked his lips, my saliva clinging to them and he nodded. “Ok, so hard and fast it is.”

I made a noise, something close to a whimper and he lifted me from the ground, my legs wrapping around his waist. Our lips met again, whilst our hips met with hard and fast presses. There was no time for tenderness, not now. Peeta walked us backwards and lowered me towards the base of a fake tree.

I looked up and laughed, “At least it’s romantic in a way.”

Peeta grinned down at me. “You get to have sex in the woods.

“Oh, I’ve had sex in the woods. The real woods.”

Peeta moaned, “Don’t give me this information Everdeen. I can’t handle it right now.”

I stripped off my sweater, leaving me down to my thin camisole. “That’s no good, there’s lots I’m going to need you to handle.”

He grinned and surged forward, his hands on my waist sliding upwards as he did. The air met my bare stomach but he didn’t stop there and continued to slide the silky material up towards my bare breasts. His head bent low and captured a hardened nipple in his mouth, his tongue sliding over it whilst he rolled the other between his fingers.

I sunk my fingers into his hair, marvelling at the softness of the strands all the while marvelling at how his mouth was shooting bolts of electricity down to my core. I ground up against him and he pushed back into me, but it wasn’t enough.

Tugging at his shirt loosened it enough for his skin to be exposed and the bare flesh of our stomachs pressed together, a thin sheen of sweat accumulating.

“Peeta,” I gasped out, digging my fingers into his back once again. If my nail hurt him, he didn’t let on.

               He released a wet nipple with a pop, “What do you need?” he panted. “Tell me.”

               “You said hard and fast.” I flopped back to the ground as he sat up and I grasped at his body like mine was starving.

               A growl emerged from his throat and then he was grabbing at his belt, his fingers making quick work of the buckles and dragging his jeans and underwear down just enough to release his erection. With haste I yanked at my own clothing, pulling down my leggings and own underwear in one swift motion, managing to pull it free of one leg completely while it dangled off the other.

               My chest heaved and I watched his face as he looked towards where my spread legs met. What a sight I must have been. Camisole pushed up to bear my breasts and my centre spread out for him to see. As he looked at me I looked at him. Thick, muscular thighs and a toned stomach. Dark blonde hair trailed down from his belly button to his groin and there, something else thick and hard jutted out.

“Fuck, Katniss!” I heard him say, but the words were faint to my dizzy mind. His fingers trailed down to my core and dipped between my folds. I groaned and arched my back at his touch. A thick finger slid into my body, the slick wetness welcoming him. It was soon joined by another and I could feel my body stretch to accommodate. Peeta moved them, pumping slowly in and out and I tried to grab his cock but it was too far out of reach. A thumb was pressed against my clit and I could feel little stars shoot behind my eyes.

Whilst one hand moved between my legs another went back to my breast and continued to pluck the nipple. I could feel the pressure beginning to build in my stomach, my neck and back arched as far as they could go, my legs stretching wider and wider. I deaf to everything aside from the noises I was making and the harshness of my breaths. In the distance of my hearing I could make out Peeta’s noises of encouragement, his appreciation of how wet, how warm I was.

The pressure reached eruption and I yelled out Peeta’s name, my legs and arms squirming underneath him, my body clenching around his fingers as more wetness flooded out of me. As the quakes dimmed and my body twitched I felt Peeta remove his fingers and bend over me.

“Katniss,” he murmured and I could feel him press his hardness against my bare centre. I nodded greedily and in one movement he pushed himself inside me. A guttural noise came from us both as we joined and I clenched his shoulders and he begun to move.

We agreed on hard and fast and so that’s what Peeta gave. His hips pounded into mine and I tried to meet him thrust for thrust but could barely match his pace. I could feel him, his girth stretching me further then his fingers and he moved quickly and easily within me. The smell of our sweat and mixed arousal flooded my nose and I could feel my sweat mingle with his wherever our bare skin could touch.

Peeta’s hands gripped my knees and he suddenly sat up, his thighs, still glad in rough denim, splaying mine further as he continued to piston into my body. His face and neck had gone a deep red from exertion. “Katniss,” he grunted. “I’m close.”

I arched my back again and grabbed at my own breasts and Peeta’s eyes couldn’t seem to settle on one place, switching between my face, breasts and the place where our bodies were joining. With one last thrust, I heard him swear and then he was coming and holding himself over me, trying not to collapse.

“Shit.” He withdrew and flopped to the ground next to me and we just lay there, half undressed and completely dishevelled. I turned to look at him as our breathing evened out, our chests still rising and falling quickly.

My hand reached out and touched his hair which was now darkening from sweat. I let out a little giggle at seeing the strands curl more towards his ears.

               He looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “Something funny?”

               “Not really, just when you joked about hate-fucking me all those weeks ago your hair looked a little like this then too.”

“As I recall someone stole my umbrella.”

               “As I recall someone ventured out in the rain without one.”

               “You were upset. I couldn’t let you sit in Sae’s alone.”

               We lay there facing each other, underneath a fake tree in a fake wood, surrounded by silver and gold. Large, black studio lights were positioned above the tree tops.

               “I still need to grab my binder and head down to the meadow tomorrow. Ugh.” I sat up, reluctant to leave but knowing we couldn’t stay like this.

               “Hmm.” Peeta sat up too and we both begun re-dressing. “The meadow you say? We should probably add that to the list.”

               “There’s a list?” I asked him.

               He shrugged, “Well there is now. Ok, so hate-fuck isn’t going to make it...”

               “Isn’t it?”

               Peeta gave me a look, one that said ‘you know it isn’t.’ “...but it doesn’t mean that we can’t add others on.”

               “Oh,” I said, “what else is on the list?”

               Peeta stood and helped me up. At least sex in fake woods meant that twigs didn’t end up in our hair. “Well we can cross off fake woods but we need to add in real woods.”

Ah, I thought, best prepare for the twigs. “What else?” I asked him, feeling a tingle at where all this was going.

He smiled at me. There was a lovely pink flush on his face, his hair was in complete disarray and his belt hadn’t been successfully looped back correctly.

“When Katniss Everdeen realises how mad about her I am - sex,” he replied and he bent down to kiss me.

[hornsbeforehalos]

Anytime, Sweetheart: Part 19

Pairing: JDM x OFC, Slight Corey Taylor x OFC Features: Ackles & Padalecki Families, R2, Misha Collins & Vicky Vantoch, Norman Reedus, Andrew Lincoln, Kim Rhodes, Briana Buckmaster, Ruth Connell, Corey Taylor and other cast members & OFCs* *THIS IS AN RPF FIC**

Series Masterlist Summary: (I’m horrible at summaries, but let me try): Kylin Ackles runs to her brother’s house after leaving her abusive boyfriend of 3 years, where she meets Jeffrey. Events unfold that bring them together, as well as push them apart. Warnings: Emotional abuse, Physical Violence, mentions of rape, cursing, drinking, recreational drug use (weed), Strip Club, RPF, NSFW**, GIFs, implied smut, Age Difference, Slow burn, Emotional rollercoaster, poorly written smutt, etc… 18+ please

(A/N: This is strictly a work of fiction that I came up with off the top of my head. For fictional purposes his S/O & Son are not mentioned. I love him and his little family, though, so no hate intended. This is the first time posting anything on Tumblr, but I couldn’t get it out of my head since my ao3 fic is currently on hiatus because writers block. Feedback is appreciated. unbetaed, all mistakes are mine.) TAGS: @jml509 @jesbakescookies @daddy-kink-confirmed @aquivercactus  @xagateophobiax @sorenmarie87 @missghoul18@jdmfanfiction @jeffreydeanneganstrash @through-thesilver-lining@beffyblueeyes @docharleythegeekqueen

   "I FEEL NO SHAME, I’M PROUD OF WHERE I CAME FROM, I WAS BORN & RAISED IN THE BOOOONDOCKSSSSSSS" I sang loudly, dancing around Jensen’s trailer as I cleaned it up for him, ignoring the sound of the door opening as I continued to prance around

   "-And here we have you’re lovely girlfriend, Jeff, putting on a show for us in Jensen’s trailer,“ Misha laughed, holding his iPad up over his face as he walked into the small living room area.    "WHAT? Dmitri!” I screeched, snatching the tablet away from him as fast as I could and turning it around to face the screen.

Sure enough, there was Jeff, laughing his fucking ass off.

   "Shut your fucking mouth, Morgan. You too, Collins,“ I snapped, eyes darting from the man laughing on the screen to the mean laughing on the couch, "Fuck you both.”    Misha raised a finger to say something, but thought better of it with the scowl I shot him and kept his mouth closed. “Never took you for a country girl, darlin’.” “I’m from Texas, Jeffrey.” “Touche.” “What are you doing talking to Misha, anyway?”    "Well, I tried to call my girlfriend about 10 fuckin’ times, but it seems like someone didn’t want to answer their phone.“    I quirked an eyebrow and walked over to where my phone sat on the counter. Sure enough, I had 9 missed phone calls and 5 unread texts. "Sorry, babe. Got distracted with cleaning Jensen’s nasty ass trailer.” “Why are you cleaning his shit? He’s a grown man with a wife.”    "I was bored, and I already cleaned Misha’s, speaking of which,“ I turned to Misha and glared at him, "Does Vicki know you stole her vibrator?”    Misha quirked that infamous left eyebrow, but couldn’t avoid his face pinkening slightly, “Yes, she does. Do you need to borrow it?”

   I scoffed, looking back to the screen where Jeffrey’s face had both his eyebrows raised in question. “I hate the two of you, so fucking much.” “We love you too” they both replied in unison.

“Hey there, beautiful.” Corey beamed from his end of the phone. “Hello yourself, handsome.” I smiled, replying back. “You ready for Vegas?” “As I’ll ever be, ha. Are you picking me up from the airport?” “Yes ‘mam I am. Meeting you over by the baggage claim.” “Good, I’m not tryna get lost and have to search everywhere for you.” “Are you excited?”    "Of course, this is gonna be awesome. Never thought I’d be in a music video for one of my favorite bands.“ "You’re makin’ me blush.” “Whatever, rock star.” “Well, you are!”    I rolled my eyes as I packed my bag, making sure I had everything that I thought I would need. I was heading out that afternoon to shoot the new Slipknot video for Vermilion and would be gone another week. Jeffrey had given me the side eye when I told him the schedule over Skype, still not feeling 100% comfortable with me being around Corey knowing his interest in me, but I had assured him that I could handle myself with him, which I could. Although I wish Jeff was able to be with me like he was in New York, he had his schedule and there was no room for negotiation in it. I missed him like crazy, and it had been almost 2 weeks since I had seen him now. We talked everyday but the distance and working had made us both irritable, and the last conversation I had had with him was us snapping at each other.    "Whatever.“ I repeated into the phone, coming back from my thoughts and into the conversation I was having with the blonde singer at the same time my phone beeped, signaling I had another call coming in. Looking down at the screen, Jeffrey’s face popped up 'Think of the Devil’ "Hey, Cor, um, I gotta go. Jeff’s calling.” “No problem, tell the lucky guy I said hello.” “Will do. Talk to you later” I replied before switching calls. “What’re you doing?” Came his familiar greeting the moment I said 'Hello’    "Packing" I replied, sorting through my makeup bag and checking that everything was there. “Mmmm. Don’t go marrying that boy while you’re in Vegas, now, ya hear?” I rolled my eyes. ’We’re going there already?’ “Don’t start, Jeff” “I’m not starting anything, sweet pea. Just teasing.” “You’re so fucking jealous, dude.”    "Like you said, I have no reason to be jealous though, right?“ He rasped, tone lower. I could almost hear his eyebrow quirking. "No, you don’t.” “And why is that, honey bunch?” I rolled my eyes again, “Because I’m yours?” I said it like it was obvious. “Good girl.” I rolled my eyes again. “Stop rolling those eyes at me girl, they’re gonna get stuck back there one day.” “You sound like my father.”    "Not quite, even though I do like it when you call me Daddy.“ He drawled, raspy chuckle slithering through the phone line.    "Well, Daddy, I’ll roll my eyes at you if I want. What are you gonna do about it from all the way across the country?” “Brat, I will get on a plane right now and fly over there and whoop that ass.” “By the time you get here I’ll already be in Vegas. With Corey.” “Yup, your'e gonna get it.” He growled. “Oh honey, I can get it whenever I want.” Another growl. I was getting to him. Always so much fun.

“He…he…he.” I giggled devilishly.

“When am I even gonna get to see you again?”    "Ummm, well, I’ll be back here in a week, we’ve got the scoring to do still for Gish and then I should have a couple weeks free time. Don’t you have a con in Houston soon?“ "Yeah.”    "Well, I’ve been meaning to go see the family, maybe I can fly out to Dallas and then Drive down there to see you?“ "That could work” I could tell he was smiling now. “Good.”

   When I arrived in Vegas late that night I was greeted with multiple reporters lined up at the gate waiting for me. “Kylin, Kylin! Where’s Jeffrey? What are you doing here in Vegas?”    I smiled and waved but didn’t say anything, worming past them to the baggage claim to look for Corey.    When I found him, he himself was being bugged by 2 women with cameras and notepads, them asking questions about what he was doing here, how things had been, et cetera.

   "I’m here waiting to pick up a friend. Oh, there she is!“ He instantly through his arm over my shoulders as I approached, pulling me into a tight hug. Naturally, a picture was taken that same moment.    "Here we go,” I muttered, rolling my eyes for a second before throwing on a fake smile.    "What are you two doing in Vegas together, Kylin? Does Jeffrey know you’re here?“    My mouth dropped open as I choked out a disbelieving laugh at her and raised my eyebrows, "Good try, Red. Good Try. Corey is a friend of mine and I’m helping him out with a project he’s working on here. And to answer your second question, if Jeff didn’t already know where I was, then he sure would know here shortly, correct?”    The red headed woman stuttered for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts. We didn’t give her a chance to figure out what to say next, though, because with perfect timing my suitcase came circling around the belt and Corey grabbed it before hurriedly leading me towards the exit.    "I guarantee you I’m about to get a phone call in three…two…one.“ I said once we were in the car and had driven down the highway a little bit. My phone vibrated on cue, displaying Jeffrey’s face. "Hello, Darling.” “Well hello to you too, Dear”    "As you probably already know I have landed and have been successfully captured by Mr. Taylor.“ "Oh he’s Mr. Taylor now, is he?”    "Dude, are you on your period or something?“ I snapped, not wanting to deal with this right now. "Woman.” He growled warningly. “Well,?” I challenged. “I’m going to hang up the phone now. Call me when you have a moment alone.” “You’re a fucking brat, Jeffrey.”    "Only when you’re one, Sweetheart.“ and with that he hung up the phone. I turned the screen off and shook my head at it, Corey looking over to me from the driver’s seat. "Everything okay?” I sighed, “Yeah, Jeffrey just being Jeffrey.” “Thing’s good between ya’ll?”    "Oh yeah, things are great, he just gets bitchy when it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other.“ "Completely understandable. Long distance is defiantly hard.”    "Yeah, that’s for sure. Not too much longer 'till I see him though and can work all that grumpiness out of him.“ I laughed, shaking my head again. "L-M-A-O” He replied, laughing.

   I was flipping and contorting myself around the pole, flinging myself upside down and holding onto poses as the camera man whirled around me, catching the shots he needed as I made my way around the metal to the time of the song. The director had been thrilled that I needed very little direction and was so well skilled in the art of pole dancing. Corey moved to his place in the shot, moving to pull me off the pole and into his arms as the 'scene’ called for. I felt his arms wrap around my waist as I held myself out, letting myself fall into him so he could catch me. I suddenly felt a bout of nervousness sweep over me as he set me down on my feet and spun me around to the time of the beat, he dipped me down and lowered his face to mine. 

You’re just fucking acting, Kylin. Get it together.    Our lips met as he swung me back up upright, him twirling us around in a dance with our mouths pressed together. Per script, my eyes stayed blank and expressionless, but my heart was hammering in my chest. Corey’s fingers gripped my waist through the flowy dress I was wearing, pinching the fabric between his fingers. I don’t know if he meant to or not, or if he even really did, but I could swear I felt the vibration of his lips against mine that muffled a groan into his mouth. When he finally pulled away and opened his eyes, his pupils were dilated and he dug his fingers into my hip again, before spinning me away from him so I could climb back up the pole.    The director called cut and the volume lowered at the same time that I did, just in time to see someone I least expected plop themselves into the chair beside where the director sat.    "What the fuck are you doing here?“ I asked, shaking my head as I walked towards him. Corey instantly followed and clapped him on the back in greeting nervously.

   "Playin’ spy.” He answered honestly, ignoring Corey as he wiggled sideways in the chair and stretched his legs over the arm as he leaned his head back and stuffed his mouth with a handful of popcorn from Craft Services, “You tell your boyfrien’ about that little scene there, Ky?”    My eyes narrowed at him as I swallowed thickly, looking from him to Corey before replying “It’s not like he tells me when Negan has scenes with his wives, so I didn’t think it was important.”    "He also hasn’t been on a date with any of those women either, now has he?“He retorted sarcastically, finally moving his attention to Corey, "How’s it going, man?”    I sighed as Corey gulped and nodded his head at Norman “Going good, man. Nice to see you.”    Norman’s eyes went back to me from him as he dug his phone out of his pocket, “Mmmmhmmm.”    "Is this my fucking life?“ I mumbled, before spinning on my heals and wandering off to find something to eat, anything to get away from the awkwardness.        But of course the awkwardness was unrelenting, because as soon as I made it back to the craft services table, my phone rang. Here we fucking go. "Hey honey,” I answered innocently, playing it cool. “Really, Kylin? Fucking really?” he, on the other hand, was not very cool at all.    "I see you’ve spoken to your agent.“ I said, narrowing my eyes in the direction of Norman, who was still sitting in the chair I left him in, speaking with Corey. "You’re God damned right I did, what the fuck? You couldn’t even tell me?”    "Tell me, Jeffrey, when’s the last time Negan kissed one of his wives?“ I snapped back, irritation growing. "It’s not the same.” he growled    "How in the Hell is it not the same, Morgan?“ I growled right back, teeth clenched together.    "Well, I don’t know, Kylin, let me go grab Elyse, or Chloe, take them out to dinner and show them a good time before the next scene, huh?”    "What? Really, Jeffrey? I don’t understand why you’re acting like you don’t trust me.“ "I trust you, Kylin. It’s him I don’t trust.”    I rolled my eyes and cocked my head with a sigh, the need for a cigarette growing rapidly with the frustration. I walked back over to where my purse was by Norman, flipping him off while digging for my smokes. He laughed, which made Jeffrey laugh in my ear. “You’re gonna give him shit, aren’t you?” Jeff rasped as I began walking away    "Oh living Hell, darling. Living Hell.“ I giggled menacingly, opening the door and stepping outside.    "You really wanna know why I sent him?” Jeffrey asked, voice kinder and sincere, “Hmmmm?” I asked, pressing a cigarette to my lips and lighting it. “After what happened in New York, baby doll, I ain’t takin’ no risks.”    My lungs tightened from his words, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end as I leaned against the side of the building. It almost felt as if someone was watching me, but I chocked it up to Jeffrey’s reminder and my general nervousness. I shook my head of the feeling and took a drag of my cigarette, sighing loudly on exhale. “I miss you,” I said mournfully, not wanting to argue with him anymore. “I miss you too, baby girl, so fucking much it hurts.” “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I didn’t want you to…react that way.” “Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?”    "Wow, Jeff. Fucking wow. I’m trying to apologize and you say that shit? You know what? Fuck this.“ I seethed, sliding the disconnect button with a grunt, not believing that he actually had said that to me. "Fucking asshole,” I muttered, taking another drag.    The feeling someone was near attached itself to me again, but when I looked around I saw no one. There was a noise, like the sound of a door closing near by and I squinted my eyes in the direction of the sound but was instantly distracted as the door beside me opened suddenly as Corey and Norman walked out.    "Jesus Christ you two scared the shit out of me.“ I gasped, jerking back at the sudden motion.    "Sorry, princess.” Corey apologized, smile quirking on his face. Norman glared at him.    "You okay?“ Norman grunted, moving in between Corey and I and leaning into my personal space, "Ya’ll okay?”    I looked up at him and nodded silently before tearing my eyes away and looking back into the parking lot, dragging the cigarette to my lips to finish it before stomping it out. “Yeah, uh, we’re fine. ” I nodded again, speaking up to break the awkwardness.    "Look, uh, we’re done for the day, you two wanna go get something to eat?“ Corey asked, turning the attention back to him. "Yeah man, I could eat.” Norman answered, looking to me for my approval.    "Sounds good.“ I replied as we Corey opened the door for us, chancing one last look over my shoulder before stepping back into the building.

   Dinner went by sullenly, my mind dancing away from the conversation that the two men were having to other thoughts, like why I was still feeling put off. Norman of course noticed, leaning into my side in the booth we were at and whispering in my ear, "You okay?”    "Yeah, I’ll talk to you about it later, don’t worry for now.“ I replied, looking down to my plate of food and then to Corey’s confused stare. "Everything okay, Ky?” Corey asked, suspicious of the way Norman was acting.    "Huh? Oh yeah. Just….off, a little today, sorry.“ I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the stubborn feeling in my chest as I glanced around the restaurant one last time.    The men when back to their conversation and I went back to daydreaming until Norman’s phone began to vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out and smirked at the screen, answering it while holding a finger to his lips in my direction.    "Hey Keagen, what’s up?” he answered, smirk on his face that told me all I needed to know. “Uh, yeah, I’m in town.” his eyes shifted to me and I gave him a knowing look.    "Oh, you are? Well than, um.“ I pinched his arm with a smirk of my own, teasing him as he swatted my hand away.    "Well, I’m kinda looking after a friend right now,” his eyes shifted to me with a pleading look, and I shook my head, waving my hands at him to not to worry.    "Well, yeah, they should be okay for a little bit, where are you staying?“ he smiled at me, moving the phone to his shoulder to bring his hands together in prayer formation, mouthing “thank you” "Okay, yeah, I’ll meet you there at around 9?” “Okay, sounds good.”    Norman ended the call and returned his attention to me, eyes flicking from mine to Corey’s, “You’ll be able to get her back safe, big mouth?”    "Yeah, I got her, no worries.“ Corey replied, brows furrowing as another look of confusion crossed his face.    "I shouldn’t be back too late. I’ll meet you at your hotel later?” Norman requested, arm wrapping around me to pull me into a hug.    "Yeah, sounds good, Norm.“ I assured, dipping in to reciprocate the gesture. He threw some cash down on the table for his tab and left, leaving Corey and I alone.     "You wanna come back to my place for a little bit? I got a buddy of mine coming over who got some super dank.” Corey offered, picking up his glass of tea and finishing it off.    I thought about it for a second, unsure of if I should let myself be around him by himself. He did say his friend was going to be there though, so I agreed, “Sure, always down to smoke.”

   Corey’s penthouse suit was gorgeous, it over looked the strip and I could see all the thousands of lights flickering in the distance. I gazed out the window while he fixed us drinks before plopping down on the fluffy leather couch to take the glass of wine from him. He smiled at me and sat down, flipping on the TV. “Mind if I ask you a question, Ky?” “Sure” I replied, sipping the blood-red liquid. “Is Jeff….I don’t know how to say this…” “What?” I asked, curious. “I mean, he sent Norman all the way out here to keep an eye on you?”    I gulped, knowing where this was heading but not wanting to fully explain Jeffrey’s concerns for me. “It’s difficult to explain, Cor. He is the way he is because of…reasons.” “Involving me?” “Not really, honestly. He’s just…protective, is all.”    "Seems like he’s more controlling than anything. Surprised he even let you do this.“ "Jeffrey doesn’t let me do anything, Corey. He’s not controlling, he’s protective.” “He sent someone to spy on you, Kylin.” “There’s more to it then that, Cor. Just let it go, okay?” “you’re my friend, Kylin, and I just want you to be happy.”    "I am happy, hun. Just don’t worry about it. Jeffrey and Norman have their reasons, okay? Just leave it at that.“    Corey looked like he was about to say something else but was interrupted by a loud knock at the door. He sighed, sitting his glass down on the nearby table, "That must be Tony.”    He got up and opened the door to greet his friend, I rose as well and sauntered back over to the window, slightly irritated with Corey’s alligations about Jeff. Corey lead the man into the living room, me not really paying attention as my gaze had been diverted back to the skyline’s glittering stars. It wasn’t until he spoke that I whipped my head around at the sound of his voice. “Well, Well, Well, Look at this.”

   The glass slipped from my hand and came crashing to the floor, spilling the blood-colored liquid onto the pretty white carpet as I gasped in horror at the face before me.    A gun was swiftly lifted from the back of Anthony’s pants into the air to aim directly at Corey’s temple. Corey froze, holding his hands up while questioning, “What in the fuck are you doing, dude?” Ignoring him, Anthony’s attention focused on me, “Darling, how have you been?”    I remained pressed against the window, panic rising in my gut and forcing my body to shake involuntarily. I gulped as Anthony stepped closer to me, weapon still aimed at the shorter man. “H-h-how…"I started, but trailed of as my voice broke.    "H-h-how…” He mocked, face contorting in sarcasm before looking back to Corey, “She didn’t tell you about me, did she, Cor?”    "Kylin, what the fuck is going on?“ Corey asked, serious expression on his face as his eyes met mine, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. "Um, I-I…"I began again, but couldn’t, "I’m sorry, Corey.”    "I’m sorry, Corey’“ Anthony mocked again, face back distorted before he erupted in a fit of giggles, "Tell him, Kylin. Tell him who you really belong to.”    My eyes left Corey’s to look at Anthony’s face, the psychotic chuckle behind his pupils prominent as he licked his lips and danced his gaze across my frame, “Lookin’ good, puddin’, you know that? Sugar Daddy been feeding you right, huh? So what are you doing with ol’ leather face over here?”    I swallowed as I glanced back over to Corey, who still had the stoic expression on his face as he stared at me, “This is why Jeffrey’s so protective, huh?” he asked, understanding coming into his eyes as he put the pieces together.    "Oh yes, see, Cor, the only reason why I even was working for ya’ll is because I knew that you had befriended my beautiful fi-an-ce here, and, you see, she’s always too busy for me, so I figured I’d go to her“    "I’m not anything to you, Anthony, ” I spat, seeing red as I pushed myself away from my position to step in front of him. Brazenly, I grabbed the barrel of the pistol he was holding against Corey’s head and moved it in the direction of my own, “If you’re gonna shoot someone, shoot me, Anthony, I’m tired of fucking dealing with your sociopathic bullshit.”

   With the same Cheshire grin that I had picked up from him displayed across his mouth, he tilted his head, cocking the hammer on the gun and running his tongue over his teeth, “Sounds like a plan, baby doll.”

Corey screaming was the the last thing I heard before everything went black. 

[ladudeski]

A Neighborhood Journey By: Matt Ladewski

This idea I have to travel around a neighborhood in west Chicago, North Lawndale, holds a potentially positive experience based on learning new things through urban culture. Within my travels, my assignment directed me to take a bus or train, walk around a residential area, hang out at a park, eat a meal from a local business, converse with some residents, observe the environment and pick up an object from the surroundings. A combination of all these steps can give me a personal relationship and experience with the neighborhood.

Day before my journey:

A classmate asked if we could get a group together for the experience, I said I would ask some other students and see if we could arrange her plan. I had originally planned to go alone. Over my time in the city as a Chicagoan I have ridden my bike through almost every neighborhood, North Lawndale being one of them. North Lawndale through media has quite the well known background of crime. It is always on the local news channels with robberies, car jacks, shootings and fights in public places. It has been projected to be a place of one race, which over time has much action with Chicago police. It’s difficult to say if it’s truly dangerous, but I believe if a person keeps to themselves and solely travels, nothing negative would be placed upon them. I’ve been told the opposite, but don’t necessarily agree to the full extent. After a few calls we got a group together and planned to journey tomorrow morning.

Meet up:

I woke up and texted a classmate from the group. He isn’t from Chicago; in fact, he is a world traveling student! He is from Palestine and he used to live in East Jerusalem. He always tells me interesting stories from his past experiences growing up in his hometown that possibly relate to our new experience. We decided to meet on the train in our neighborhoods, north west of where our school is located. We arrive at school by 10:00 AM. Our other group members are in the lobby. As we begin walking to the train, conversation about the “possibility of danger” takes place. We instantly put the topic to rest after we all agree traveling as a group is different than traveling alone. It has become a natural reaction to the current media in our country. In media and news there is always the reaction to the idea of “being alone while traveling” or “having valuable items while traveling alone.” The question of safety that doesn’t become the topic in news would be, “what time of day is it dangerous to travel alone?” One of the most valuable assets of this assignment is seeing, feeling and participating with urban culture within the neighborhood. This experience can answer the beginning stages of those questions in media about North Lawndale.

Train ride:

Our group all board the train with our train passes. I can feel the excitement of having this experience together. We begin talking about the SAIC studio and gallery space in Homan, which is in the direction that we will be traveling for the assignment. We begin seeing graffiti cover-ups that we talked about in class last week. It’s funny beginning to experience things urban culture already. We laugh, take pictures and make jokes about how obvious these urban culture settings can be. We all begin a conversation on traveling on the train to places we’ve never been before, why we use the train for our personal schedules, as well as the continued placements of the graffiti removals. I said to one of my classmates, “I have ridden this train southwestward for the past 12 years, I’m familiar with where the neighborhood is located, North Lawndale, but there were no true reasons for me to get off at that stop.” We then realize we have gone past the Kedzie train stop and make more jokes about how it’s a normal thing to miss a train stop because we enjoy the view of urban and public artworks, along with the relaxing setting of train noises and vibrations. We’ve all become numb to riding the trains. We get off at the next stop and wait a few minutes for the train back to the Kedzie stop. As we get off at the Kedzie stop we see that one of the guards has a confused look on his face. It didn’t have a negative portrayal, but more of a curious facial expression. We begin the walk toward the Homan Avenue exit, on the west side of the train stop. When we get up top at street level I looked south, straight ahead was the Nicols Tower, where SAIC has a space.

SAIC Homan Square:

We begin walking toward the location of SAIC Homan Square at Nicols Tower. It is a 14 floor building with a thin width, it resembles a church tower or bell tower. It was at the head of the Sears company industry building, an old retail department store from Chicago. One of our group members called the director of the SAIC Homan Square and asked if we could have a short tour. The director had us come up to the 12th floor and gave us an introduction and description of their services and position in the neighborhood. The important piece of the conversation leads to the acceptance of what they are trying to achieve within their location in Homan. Currently it seems as if these neighborhoods aren’t used to the idea of an institute buying space and trying to succeed in helping the community. The content that was explained to us is the idea of giving children and young adults a chance to be safe in their neighborhood while having the opportunity to participate in art and design classes. The program provides a new experience with subjects they don’t receive in Chicago Public Schools in their neighborhood. The inside portrayal as she explained, can have such a positive outcome, but the relationship to the community is so new, they are trying to find the way to make it succeed. We then went to the 14th floor, there was an inside balcony that had an amazingly beautiful view of the city and surrounding neighborhoods. As a looked out at North Lawndale, it made me think about SAIC proving something to the community. I cannot say whether I would accept it or not as a member of the neighborhood, I have never experienced something like this situation. Especially in terms of the lines being drawn in the neighborhood from what to accept and not accept from outside businesses. By trying to understand I can use relatable memories of where I’ve lived in Chicago and undergo what I experienced in terms of community. Over 12 years I’ve lived in East Pilsen, Wicker Park, East Ukrainian Village, East Humboldt Park and Logan Square. Once the portrayal of business space began, the prime retail space areas were practically cheap, then it began exploiting the customer and refining the neighborhood from outside sources. The original communities became unhappy and were driven out in terms of rent or changes in ownership. I would never want a course of business in my community to assist outside sources to believing it’s a comfortable place to start a new business. I feel SAIC has to adhere to a tough situation by showing the community they are only there to offer positive assistance to their community.

North Lawndale Journey:

We left The Homan Square tower and began walking south on Homan Avenue. We begin looking at the ground to see if there are any items to pick up. I keep seeing Newport cigarette packages, fruit juice bottles of all types and brands, McDonald’s wrappers, empty beer and liquor cans, mostly Icehouse and Colt 45. We reach a major intersection at Roosevelt Road, right there was the place one of the group members mentioned to eat, Red’s Hot Dogs. We decide to stop and get some local neighborhood food. As we get inside, it is dim, with some old wooden booths, posters on wall of past events, ads for local services, insurance and entertainment. I kicked right up to the line and looked at the menu. My server was such a sweetheart to me, she was old and seemed as if she was doing with for quite sometime. The deal was a hot dog with onions, peppers and mustard with a side of fries for $4.75. I ordered three of those with two pops (Chicago language for soda) she said, “Thanks baby, have a nice day.” We then walked outside and continued toward Douglas Park while eating on the run. We were now on some crunch time because I had class in an hour and another classmate had to reach a meeting back at school as well. We went east down Roosevelt, next to a parking lot that had an Auto Parts store, a movie theatre and a McDonald’s. When we reached the park there were three older men sitting in folding chairs toward the shade. They directed us toward the Riot Fest, which is a metal and rock music festival. We all explained we were just there to walk the park, I’m not sure if they understood. I told them they looked like they were chillin and taking it easy, laid back in the shade because the sun was really hot at that point. They had some Colt 45’s in the drink holders of their lawn chairs. The one man responded, “yeah it sure is hot out, hope ya’ll have a nice day.” He was very nice to us, the other men were smiling and kind of gave us some funny grumbles and laughed. One of our group mates said she heard one of the grumbling men say, “yeah, just keep on walkin’.” In my mind I had a feeling they were acting, just to be cool with us. I know it’s not our groups neighborhood, we’re visitors. We then reached another group, who again directed toward the Riot fest. I saw a group of people parking and locking up their car, checking the doors twice to make sure it’s locked and all good to go. They were headed to Riot Fest. It’s funny how they checked their car twice, I don’t know why he did that, I can only assume why. The thoughts entered my head about the media news that North Lawndale or similar neighborhoods get. We reached the end of the park on that block and needed to leave because of the time crunch. I ordered a cab for all of us and we headed out. On the way back to school we sat on the highway in traffic and shared funny thoughts about what we saw on the ground, encountered at Red’s and how the old men were great actors, probably so used to that situation because it’s become a major part of their urban societal skills.

Questions:

This experience also led me into a pool of thoughts and questions, that as an SAIC student how can we explain that the program won’t impose on their neighborhoods? Is SAIC capable of their goals for the youth? Do they need to readdress that this isn’t a motion for business, but a positive program for art education? Is being above the neighborhood something the residents are comfortable with?

[rkbahuja]

From Tales to Talkies, the Terribly Tiny community isn’t so tiny anymore. What started with incredibly enticing stories narrated in just 140 characters has now grown to memorable short films that touch all the right chords. Helming this transformation in storytelling are Chintan Ruparel and Anuj Gosalia, the Co – Founders of Terribly Tiny Tales and Terribly Tiny Talkies.

On a rainy evening, I caught up with Chintan, who had just returned from the edit of one of their Father’s Day films. As the office bustled with energy, we sat down for a freewheeling chat about all things Talkies. As Chintan passionately spoke about films, the journey that it has been for TTT, the various film formats they are experimenting with and more, I couldn’t help but feel amazed and inspired. With such hearts and minds involved in the art of filmmaking, we can surely look forward to a revolution in cinema, one that has already begun.

Here are excerpts from our conversation.

Chintan Ruparel

What prompted the expansion from Tales to Talkies?

Anuj (Gosalia, Co-Founder) and I always wanted to expand storytelling to different formats, and films were such a tempting segment to explore! Anuj loves cinema, he also ran a blog called Popcorn Friday where he reviewed films. Coming from an advertising background, I’ve seen films happening in front of me. You think of an idea, a story and then see it happen in front of you, you see the magic on the sets and it just sweeps you off your feet. With writing, it’s just the paper and you; you are everything. But when it comes to films, there are so many people involved; to control that, bring that to the table, have a shared vision and also make money out of something like films is a huge challenge. So we thought of dabbling with films, short films to begin with. The challenge was to adapt the 140 characters (from Tales) to something like film. Because, what is terribly tiny when it comes to film – is it 10 sec, 50 sec, 1 minute or 10 minutes? There was nothing to define it. So we thought of starting with five minutes.

We contacted all our friends in the advertising industry, film industry, writing community etc., as we knew quite a lot of them who were very talented. But they were not really able to do what they liked or make films the way they wanted to. They were all frustrated in their work and had expressed an interest in working with us if we were to expand to film. So we called four filmmakers and I was the fifth, because if I had to give feedback to a filmmaker, I had to know how to make a film. So I made my first film with the first edition of Talkies. We made five films of five minutes each on the theme of love. The first edition premiered at Matterden where we had a full house of people. It was a great sign and that encouraged us to make more films.

The challenge was to adapt the 140 characters (from Tales) to something like film

You started off with a 5-minute bracket and now have 10, even 15 min films, what determines the stories you’d like to back as a platform?

One is the honesty in storytelling. The idea should be close to the maker in some way and should be something that he or she really wants to make. Apart from that, it should be an idea that hasn’t been done before, or hasn’t been said in this way. It should be fresh. The last and the most important thing is that it should be engaging. Initially, we began with 5-minutes but we realized that a lot of filmmakers suffered as a result because they felt that if one more shot or one more sequence could have been included, it would have added to the overall telling of the story. So, we decided to relax ourselves on time and told them to keep it under 15 – 20 minutes, with 7 – 10 minutes being ideal. But if the film is engaging enough and needs more time, we will not let length kill an idea.

Chintan Ruparel with Anuj Gosalia (Left)

A large number of your films are very red-letter day/occasion specific, what is the thought behind this approach?

Our films are designed for social media and not necessarily designed for virality in terms of the content. These red-letter days are a good time when people want to share stuff. The Internet is bombarded with content, so much is being thrown at you on a red-letter day. So we didn’t want to be those people who curate or collate or distribute content that is designed on virality. We wanted to keep it occasion specific. Other content creators go the whole viral route, they are designed in a way to make people laugh, they create sketches and so on, but we were never those people. We wanted to tell a story that has value. That was a tough call but that is what defines us.

We have a Terribly Tiny community that looks forwards to these films on all occasions.

Our films are not necessarily designed for virality in terms of the content

Which brings me to your recent Father’s Day films. What was the thought that went into these heartwarming stories?

The relationship between fathers and children is very special. It’s a given that mothers do more – give more, express more etc. But there is something so amazing about these species called ‘Fathers’. They apparently don’t do enough and while there is a whole patriarchal side to them, if you leave that aside, they are sweethearts who need to be celebrated. We have all had those special moments with our dads while growing up.

What we also realized is that the relationship between a father and son is more strained than that between a father and daughter. These films will mostly touch upon that and how fathers are awkward in expressing what their feeling. They don’t say a lot of things but do feel them.

So, we’re releasing two films this time, because in addition to passion and love, we need to take on meaningful brand collaborations that add to our portfolio and also generate revenue to fund the other films that are produced solely by us. We’re doing one film with Ola Cabs called ‘Rear View’. It’s about two fathers colliding – a passenger who is a single father and a driver, who is an expectant father. The conversation they have and how that changes the course of their lives in one day and how they end up touching more lives around them because of that, is what the film is all about.

The other film is called ‘Aamad’ which means ‘invitation’. It is the story about a son who returns home after many years, in his 30s, and finds his father on the deathbed. Their relationship was strained in the past and what efforts the son makes to mend things with his dad and whether he can make up or not forms the crux of the story.

When it comes to these movies, what is the making process, how do they come together?

We’re currently doing three kinds of films. One is for our YouTube audience, proprietary films that are not backed by brands, films that we want to put out regardless of brand or no brand. These films define what Talkies is all about. And people look forward to these films and we make it a point to surprise and delight them in some way.

The other is branded content which keeps money coming into the bank, but we aim to collaborate in the right way. Several brands want to do ad films with us, but once you go down that route, it’s hard to come back. So we stick to collaborating with brands that are interested in telling meaningful stories. It has been very good so far but budgets are still a challenge because brands don’t see the returns in this, what such a film can do for their brand. It’s a fairly new way of telling stories for them. So we’re taking one step at a time.

The third is the film festival route. This year, we’ve already commissioned a few films, one is ready and the other is going on floors next week, which are purely for film festivals. We wanted to test ourselves against the best out there. So we will not be in a hurry to release these films because they may give us a new audience, a new reputation and open more doors with VOD platforms.

We’re launching a fourth kind, which is contest-based. This Friendship’s Day we’re opening up Talkies to college campuses. We’re asking students to make films (under 5-minutes) on friendship and submit them. We’ll choose the best and put them online under TTT Campus. A lot of these kids aspire to make films and we’re fairly known in that (student/youth) community. So it’s worth exploring.

We co-incubate, co-create, creatively produce, platform the film, promote it and oversee the creative process

While making proprietary films, solely backed by TTT, do you’ll approach filmmakers or does it work both ways?

We get a lot of queries and I have script readings everyday. Thankfully, we now have Sharanya Rajgopal on board. She is a fantastic writer and has worked on several feature films earlier. Sharanya is the Chief Writer here and anything that come to us, first goes to her. When any script comes to us, we first assess if it is the kind of film we’re looking at, if the scale is right, it is not going over budget and so on. A lot of writers send us their scripts, so we see if they want to make their first film or are they fine with us giving it to somebody else to direct. We prefer writer-directors because they’re more in control of their craft.

From this year onwards, we’re having more emphasis on the script and Sharanya is the best gatekeeper for that. She’s also creative producer, so both of us work very closely. We sit with filmmakers and try to understand what they want to make. Sometimes we call filmmakers whose work we like and ask if they’d like to attempt any of the upcoming red-letter day films. From there on, it’s a collaborative effort. But we don’t get into production. We are like the studio, we co-incubate, co-create, more importantly creatively produce, platform the film, promote it and oversee the creative process. We outsource production depending on the film and the maker.

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Is it a conscious decision to stay away from production?

Yes. Even if it’s writing, we call ourselves ‘enablers’ as a platform. We want to enable more storytellers. If we get into production, there is another round of headaches; permissions, taxes, several risks. We may get into it in the future, but as of now this model gives us scope to do more. Unless the team expands and we feel a dire need to have a production of our own, we would rather outsource it.

People don’t understand how to treat sex in India

Coming to your audience, while the younger crowd is hooked on to TTT, your target is not restricted to them alone, Khujli being a successful example. Is it important to target this new demographic that includes our parents?

With platforms like AIB and TVF, you may not or cannot necessarily watch that content with your parents. But we want our films to be enjoyed by everyone. We’re okay with going edgy like in Khujli as long as the story and content is good. It was a conscious decision to make a film like that because people don’t understand how to treat sex in India. Sex and humor haven’t gone well together, and you have films like Masti and other very bad films being made. So, to have that right balance of a good story with good performers and then make it well and make sure it reaches the right audience was a challenge but we enjoy such challenges. We wanted to move on to different genres and experiment with different kinds of films. One of the films that we’re making this year is a horror film. Again, horror is not a genre that is explored well in India. We’re doing a horror film for Raksha Bandhan (smiles). It’s a very different take on a brother-sister relationship, and we can’t wait for it!

With so many players in the short film segment, what does it take to keep it sustainable?

Not many people know this, but for one entire year, we didn’t make films at all. After making around 13 films; five films in the first edition for Valentines Day 2015, five more films on Mother’s Day in the same year, and then three films on Independence Day, we realized that we’d put in a fair amount of money, but it was not coming back! We realized that passion is one thing, but economics is a completely different ball game. And these films consumed most of my time, so we needed to have some returns on investment. After a lull year in 2016, we are back in 2017 doing more films. We’re making a comeback of sorts. Economics was a huge reason why we stopped films for a year. Also, there is a way to smartly package content and deliver it well. With so many VOD platforms coming up, there is potential to sell content and recover or even make money.

Our ‘Backspace’ videos are a new way of telling a story in a video

Going forward would you’ll be open to exploring other formats like features, web series et all? If so, will it be in a similar space to the content you’ll are exploring now?

A lot of people ask us if we would do feature films and I say why not?! We don’t want to rule out anything. We’re already experimenting with various formats. As I mentioned, with TTT Campus we’ll be exploring student short films though it’s a risk because they don’t know how to package films and do QC but it is a new format for us. Another thing we’re really proud of is called ‘Backspace’ videos, which you can see on our Facebook and Instagram account. These videos are executed on the basis of WhatsApp chats that people have. Because a lot of times, you type something but erase it and send something else. That psychology of hesitation, how our minds work, is a very interesting concept that can be explored around various themes. It is a new way of telling a story in a video. Some of these videos are backed by brands and we’re getting a phenomenal response.

We’re trying to crack new formats and are open to things. The moment we find a story that we feel is different from what’s out there, and we need put our hearts and money in it, we’ll make it happen.

Revolutionizing storytelling with each tiny step: Chintan Ruparel on TTT From Tales to Talkies, the Terribly Tiny community isn’t so tiny anymore. What started with incredibly enticing stories narrated in just 140 characters has now grown to memorable short films that touch all the right chords.