#i just love films scores guys okay?

[mochalottie]

I wanted to make a larger post about ATSV because I've been listening to the soundtrack on loop for the past week, I'm going to see it again tomorrow, and I just made a very astute observation about the film and its music (and no, this is not a chance to show off my music film degree shut up--)

So, in the previous Spiderverse-film there was a lot of focus placed on the Original Soundtrack. I mean the songs used in the film (diegetically) and which were inspired by Miles' story. It included stuff like Sunflower and What's up Danger.

It meant that there was less emphasis on the film score, written by Daniel Pemberton. Apart from only Miles' theme throughout his journey, and his fight theme in the collidor 'Miles Morales Returns' there isn't much of a focus on the score itself. It falls to the wayside unless people actively go to listen to it. I mean, the cover art for it was actually really simple until recently. The big 'Spider-man' graphic wasn't there a few weeks ago.

Now, there's nothing bad about this at all, and in fact I haven't come here to criticise this, only to observe and possibly gush about how it's changed. Because it has changed; this time in ATSV there's less of a focus on the OST and more on the score. It's far more prevailent, to the point where each Spider person is getting their own theme.

That includes Gwen, Miguel, Miles, Pav, and Hobie. And each actually sounds really well characterised.

Gwen's, which is heard really prevalently during the battle with Vulture at the beginning is very drum heavy (obviously), but the main melody rises in quick succession in what could be a slide, but nearly couldn't because you hear each individual note. We know for a fact that Gwen is the only Spider person in her Earth, so it could almost be a nod to her rising to the challenge. Learning to defend her city whilst also always getting back up. Someone also pointed out that the drum solo heard at the beginning is used at the end, and is part of her theme. It also makes sense why she would form the Spider band, because the drums form the foundation so that the other instruments can build upon it.

Miguel's is first heard when he steps through the portal, and obviously it sounds ominous and menacing. But, I don't believe he's a bad guy. Someone said here that there's a difference between an antagonist and a villain. Miguel is the antagonist, which is reflected in his theme, because he is far different to the other Spiders. He's a vampire, for one, his world is set in 2099, and he was the first to figure out the canon events. The setting is why, I think, his theme is so techno in style. It also has the same rise and fall motif that is similar to Gwen's, a bit of word painting in a sense.

We then come to the main character Miles, who's theme we did experience before in the first film, but it's far more developed in this one. For one thing, it's longer in time, second, it's set during the chase scene with the Spot. We know from the last film that Pemberton is a master at meshing the diegetic music into his score (for example adding in some of Miles' theme into What's up Danger) and it's no different here. At one point, he changes the record scratches (which are literally him scratching the vinyl recording of the score) to the screeches the goose makes whilst Spot and Miles are duking it out in Foam Party. And obviously more rising scales, and epic orchestration but meshed with the record scratches and errant cowbells.

I think Pav and Hobie are my favourite new characters. Like Pav 'Just coconut oil, prayer, good genetics' 'chai tea? chai is tea! Do you want some coffee coffee with a side of cream cream?'. He makes me laugh every time and he's such a sunshine boy I wanna squish--

ahem. anyway.

Obviously, Pav's theme is very culturally accurate, but he hasn't been able to get away from the traditional record scratches and hints of techno like the other Spiders. It doesn't have the rise and fall motif (yet) but that could be because he hasn't been Spider-Man all that long (six months and he still got a badge) and he hasn't experienced any of the major sacrifices Spider-Man usually does. And we hope that he doesn't anyway, cause they need a bright and smiley Spidey that's not weighed down by the weight of his fecking responsibility.

What can I say about Hobie's theme. What can't I say about Hobie's theme. It is downright headbanging screaming at authority fuck the monarchy english punk!! I love it to bits, the way it reminds me of so many other great bands whilst also being really bloody original. Good drum runs like holy shit, good guitar riffs (you can bet their fingers might be bleeding by the end of it) and it just gives the vibes of late 70s. It just fits so so well.

All of it does, the whole score is amazing and I would absolutely adore to pick Daniel Pembertons' brain in finding out how he decided each Spider would sound. Like, the tiny details every creator put into this film is insane.

Each Spider even has their own unique thwipping sound how specific can you get!!!

Anyway, I'm done. For those of you who read through this, know I did it during half of my lunchbreak because this film is giving me brainrot.

<3

[the-90s-music-colosseum]

Quarterfinals, Match 2

expand to see all propaganda received! (wall of text warning oh my god this is a severe cautionary message)

Lauryn Hill:

"she paved the way and was hot as fuck the whole time"

"Girl c'mon. Look at her. You're gonna try and tell me that isn't the most beautiful and attractive person alive? Okay. You're lying but okay."

"if u freaks don't give ms. lauryn hill the respect she deserves..."

"actually one of the prettiest women ever I'm such a lesbian for her. like irl I'm already a lesbian but she is helping"

Damon Albarn:

"Don’t think Damon should be here? Why don’t you get your head checked by a jumbo jet? Maybe you’ll feel heavy metal and calm down."

"If Damon is in the “some guy” category, he’s the heavenly and heartbreaking version. Damon is the sort of significant stranger I’d see on the train out of Colchester but could never speak to, just a face seen in passing yet too radiant to be real. I’d fall in love for an hour and carry the ache for a month."

"Damon sets the standard for me. I think he’s the most fascinating man alive. What I find attractive in Damon is not just his gorgeous bone structure and boyish charm, but how wholly he’s committed himself to music. Damon is an artist who walked the walk: in one of his roughest years with some of his rawest songwriting, he said he was no longer excited by anything except the creative process. He was disillusioned with the celebrity of it all, with his relationships suffering for it, and only wanted to make art: nothing more, nothing less. He would go on to compose film scores, write operas and stage musicals, produce other artists’ records, form collectives to fulfill his passion for world music, and create some of the most globally successful music of his career in a completely innovative format that placed him as the phantom behind the characters. Whenever one band takes a break, he makes a solo record or puts together a supergroup to stay busy. He’s uniquely collaborative and still writes personal letters inviting artists to record with him, and yet can function as a one-man show, acting as a multi-instrumentalist, a singer-songwriter and a producer. He’s been a constant voice of bringing British music to the world *and* bringing world music into Britain. Sure, he’s won Brit Awards and a Grammy among others, but he also has a Guinness World Record and was named an Officer of the British Empire for his services to music; his long work with Africa Express earned him respect even from peers who’d previously dismissed him, and his commitment to support his Malian collaborators in the face of violence earned him the title of Local King in Mali. There is so much talent in the world, but there is truly no one else with a career that looks like Damon Albarn’s. Damon is far more than just a prettyboy to look nice on a magazine cover, but looks are the ultimate point of this tournament, so make no mistake: he was terribly, terribly pretty. You watch him performing in the 90s, you sift through photoshoots and interviews and documentaries, and it feels *cruel* how beautiful he was. If his talent was god-given, so was his face. To put a bow on this thesis: I don’t know if Gorillaz and Damon’s musical universe would be the experimental, globe-trotting, boundary-pushing community affair it is if Blur hadn’t become such a central figure in Britpop and if Damon had not been made such a media spectacle, and I don’t know if Damon would have been that spectacle if he wasn’t so ungodly pretty. The domino effect is that Damon’s cherubic face launched a thousand multimedia art school projects for decades to come."

"I wish I was basically any bloke in the 90s so I could tongue Damon Albarn down. Damon will see a man and ask “is anyone gonna kiss that?” and not wait for a response."

"I have a pillow with his face on it. I sleep with it every night 😊"

"“I’m more homosexual than Brett Anderson, always have been. As far as bisexuality goes, I’ve had a taste of that particular fruit, or have been tasted you might say…” is just the rawest most Shakespearean statement ever"

"he is the ultimate Pretty Boy ™. his glorious golden locks, his electric blue eyes. he is if Princess Diana was a Britpop Dude. he is the Regina George of Britpop. he is if Aphrodite took male form. Zeus would come down to earth to fuck him if he knew. he is a caffeinated orange cat let loose. he is deranged. he is unhinged. you never know what will come out of his mouth. he had sexual tension with every single man who knew him. he pulled justine fucking frischmann. his aura knows no bounds. he is a siren. he is a weird guy. but being so gorgeous stunning ethereal didn't stop him from also being one of the most prolific songwriters of his generation"

"THE MAIN BLUR"

"literally where do i even begin. i could write entire essays on this man. a good place to start would be the beetlebum music video, i suppose. i'll never forget the first time i watched that music video. something in me changed, my brain chemistry was altered, my life was never the same, i view the world a lot differently now. and a lot of the viewing i'm doing is of pictures of damon albarn's face because of boy do i have a lot of those saved. every time i try to look for a photo of something on my phone i can't find it because there's so much damon. okay that's maybe an exaggeration but this man has the most unfathomable beauty ever. his eyes? HIS EYES. god dammit i love his eyes i want to stare at them until the end of time like nothing else exists. i'm so normal about this man (lying) and while i'm usually very shameless about my interests i'm actually incredibly glad this propaganda is anonymous because otherwise. yeah. but the world deserves to see damon albarn's beauty and also hear his fantastic voice because what the fuck. his voice is literally the most gorgeous sound ever produced like bro sounds like that and expects me not to fall in love? i want this man to sing his silly songs and talk absolute nonsense to me until the sun eventually blows out and the world ends. cmon damon girlies let's demolish this tournament i know there are a lot of you."

"He’s beautiful. He’s a little rat. He’s a sweetheart. He’s a dickhead. He’s a musical genius. He’s a dumb bitch. He’s a jock. He’s a weirdo. He’s real. He’s an illusion. He’s everything. He’s just Damon."

"DAMON DAMON DAMON where do I begin oh jeez I've hyperfixated on this man for a solid 4 years and still going strong. Damon makes me wish that British people are real. That says A LOT. This man created a whole ass ANIMATED BAND WITH A SHIT TON OF LORE as a SIDE HUSTLE??? Not to mention, what other man has collaborated with Stevie Nicks, MF DOOM, Del the Funky Homosapien, Snoop Dogg, AND Beck?! People, we're literally in the presence of a god. And he's STILL GOING. Anyways, TL;DR, damon is so so so neat and cool and he should definitely win this competition. Thank you."

"Okay 90s Damon is The Perfect Boy yes yes, but the people who parrot the Daily Mail and say "he's ugly now" will never understand. I would still suck every drop from him on his deathbed."

"Vote for whoever you want to. But Damon is so pretty."

"i did not spend hours admiring this beautiful man's face on pinterest just to see him lose."

"Damon Albarn just brings me joy. When I'm watching him perform, following along as the camera lingers on and adores his pretty face, I get butterflies like I'm 15 again. It's nice to still feel that totally unguarded giddiness sometimes."

"God let the intrusive thoughts win making Damon. What if he's a beautiful blond twink with eyes like saucers and dick to his knees, he reads Herman Hesse and plays footie and is insufferable about both, he'll be the most prolific musician of his generation and write operas and seminal albums in 5 different genres and also he's gonna be the dumbest bitch alive? He'll also be kinda bi, but only kinda. And send."

"when i found out about his existence, my life was changed forever. i wish i could use him like the hannah montana boot milk pillow and chuck him at the wall so he makes a loud thud"

"Think of the drama and anon fights it'll cause if Damon wins it all! And think of how quiet it'll get after Damon's out. You'll miss him when he's gone, like memories of a noisy house years after it's grown silent. Choose Damon, and keep the messy train chugging."

"Even the Gallagher brothers have the hots for him."

"Kiss kiss I love him also you can't vote for any of the Seattle men they're literally copy and paste it's not fair. We need Brit representation"

"I want to take care of him, I want to provide for him. I need to gauge his baby blue puppy dog orbs out to I can clean them with wood varnish, paint shades of Pantone 320 C in his eyes, spray eau de parfume by dior in them and sew it back into his eyes like that scene in Toy Story 2."

"Seeing as simply filling the page with ‘Damon’ written 10000000 times isn’t going to cut it 😅 may I admit/submit: I DO have him tattooed on my being (no descriptive, is this anon?); he’s inspired somewhat unhinged late night/early morning fandom conversations in which I’ve served as ‘parish’ priest hearing confessions from all manner of folk about what they’d like to do to him/receive from him; sadly I lost an essay where I detailed why the letters that make up his name suit him so well, and described him as the hot caramel sauce to Graham’s cool vanilla ice cream. He’s a faerie princess with a nose that makes people weep and a voice that feels like the warmest home and he gives amazing hugs. He loves trains and chickens and his tuxedo cat. He’s annoying and sweet and somewhat unhinged and his music saves people and all this is on top of that fantastic dick. He’s a dream yet very real and we’re fucking blessed to be on earth at the same time as him, amen"

"Damon Albarn was a beautiful, beautiful boy. The world saw that, regardless of if every individual reading this has the same taste in men; it felt like a truth of the universe at the time. They don't make celebrities that angelic in face and erratic in personality anymore."

"I need to touch his eyebrows, nose and prostate just one time JUST ONE TIME COME ON"

[tim-shii]

📱 break the internet !

sypnosis: you, blue lock boys and tiktok trends. what could possibly go wrong?

features: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, itoshi rin

a/n: not proofread i apologize also let me know if you want a part 2 !

okokokok / lalalala — isagi yoichi

isagi is the lalalala and the okokokok. he is both. he rambles to you a lot. talking about the things he passed by while on the way to you or maybe he'll talk to you about his most recent game where he scored the last goal. you don't know a lot about soccer? that's okay! isagi is more than happy to discuss to you how the game works and the terms commonly used on the field. 

however, isagi is also a great listener. he looks at you and focuses only at you as you talk. maybe you're complaining about your professor who loves torturing his students by assigning a new homework every hour. or perhaps you were telling him the latest gossip in the hollywood scene, god knows a new one pops up every two days, or maybe minutes. 

he's attentive to every word you say. and when you bring up the topic again another day, he butts in and smiles widely when you applaud him for remembering. it's like he has the key words and important notes listed in his head. of course, this also applies to everything you say in passing, whether you said it intentionally or not. 

on a monday morning, isagi will randomly knock at your door. a necklace in hand, one you mentioned during your date night five weeks ago.

heart photobooth — bachira meguru

bachira was the one who showed you the trend. braging in your shared room with a wide grin on his face before belly flopping beside you on the bed. he pushes the phone in your face, excitedly chanting let's do it! let's do it! so you say yes, of course. who can ever say no to him anyways.

he proposes to do three videos of the same trend. one with him doing the frames, another with you and one with both of you alternating to do the frames of four sides. you start off with being the frame. as you follow your arm along the line shown on screen, bachira runs around behind you trying to pose quickly as the timer before each snap is no longer than five seconds.

you laugh under your breath as bachira runs around, almost toppling over several times until he finally does. he slips on a lone sock laying on the ground and fell on his back. gasping, you run to his side and grab his face, silently muttering if he has a concussion or not. bachira only laughs at you then pulls you down with him, you head resting on his chest.

at the end you guys only got to film one video. but on the good side, said video went viral and many comments talk about how you two are such a cute couple and bullying the hell out of the sock bachira slipped on.

half and half heart on each other's cheeks — itoshi rin

convincing rin to do this was easy. just say you want a wallpaper and he's agreeing almost too immediately. he has thoughts of backing out when he sees you pull out a tube of lipstick though. he scoots closer when you usher him to. phone stood on a water tumbler, recording each passing second. 

you grab his face with one hand, turning so his left cheek is facing you. you drag the pigment in an almost c shape pattern along his chiseled features. smooshing your cheek with his as soon as the lipstick leaves his face. he grunts as he was taken aback, grabbing on your waist for support. he looks at you with a love in his eyes when you pull away and saw a matching c shape mark on your cheek. 

reaching out to stop the video, you pull rin closer to you again. this time, angling his face so a heart forms in between you two. seeing you struggle to take the photo, rin takes the phone into his arms and stretched out his arm, clicking it after. he pulls away from you to admire the picture. exiting the camera app and opening his contact to send the picture to himself at that very moment. he kisses your cheek while you're editing the video, chin propped up on your shoulder, warm breaths hitting your neck.

unfortunately, his teammates saw the video going around tiktok and constantly spams his phone. best believe, the only thing they're receiving from him is his cold shoulder and death glares. he's happy he has a new lockscreen though. and a cute one at that.

likes & reblogs are appreciated !

[reiniesainyo]

IN BETWEEN. charlie bushnell x reader – 03

03 | ENCHANTED previous | next | masterfile

SYNPOSIS. when a girl's co-star is good to her and now she wants it more than everything in between. (smau)

A/N. i'm going through a rough / stressful period and i find this series and writing it very therapeutic so here we are! this chapter takes place around episode 7 release, i'm not really inclined to write about the filming in between for some reason (unless you'd be interested)

liked by walker.scobell, thelnarchives, and 262,287 others rickriordan With the release of the new PJO series on Disney+, I'm happy to announce that to celebrate I've partnered with some of your favorite authors and close friends of mine to present to you all a new look into the lives of our favorite demigods!

WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A HALF-BLOOD will go online for free this February 20, 2024!

Click the link in bio for more info! PS: A sneak peak from our writers on the other slides

thelnarchive ... WHAT THE??? i have to manifest a chapter for my girl, manifesting a chapter or more please or even just one mention ↳ iamcharliebushnell YOU DIDN'T KNOW EITHER?????

user1 HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT????

user2 1) more stories about characters and 2) WRITTEN BY OTHER AUTHORS???? WHO COULD BE IN THIS PROJECT ↳ user3 i'm manifesting a story about tahlia and jason as kids oh my god

iamcharliebushnell imagine releasing a whole anthology to celebrate? that's the best author right there

user4 ohhh we're eating so good

walker.scobell another book and there's still not enough percy jackson in this world keep it coming i love your work ↳ aryansimhadri Imo too much percy maybe some more grover ↳ leahsavajeffries wrong there should be more annabeth

dior.n.goodjohn the gc going wild with this news

🃏 @CHILDOFHECATE what are your guys guesses for the stories in what it means to be a half-blood??? 🗨 32 comments 🔁 150 retweets ❤️ 456 likes

user1 a jason and tahlia story about them as kids, just a delve into their childhood

user2 more stuff on luke and rina, as individuals and as a couples- like i totally see a luke perspective on some situations or a conversation they had being in the book ↳ CHILDOFHECATE honestly i think it'd be so cool if they went like contemporary and also gave us maybe a poem or transcript / screenplay of a conversation between luke and rina

user3 stories about annabeth, tahlia, and luke's time before camp maybe fighting monsters together or just trying to survive ↳ user4 watch me cry over this one

user5 i just see a lot of delving into the lives of the original trio and also like the original supporting characters to like tahlia, luke, rina, even rachel

user6 grover's childhood! i really wanna see that or some parts of the story from his perspective

user7 Angst.

liked by iamcharliebushnell, aryansimhadri, and 320,372 others thelnarchives celebrating with the half-bloods

iamcharliebushnell when you're so excited over new lore you go and have dinner to talk about it ↳ thelnarchives this means so much to us

user1 YN IN THE SECOND SLIDE OH SHE'S GOREGOUS

user2 her face card never declines ↳ user3 it even has like benefits and a perfect credit score

dior.n.goodjohn fans first cast second ↳ thelnarchives this show has more more dressed up than my wedding

user4 this cast is so cute it's crazy

walker.scobell the 3rd pic >>> ↳ iamcharliebushnell oh so true ↳ i.am.andrew.alvarez a banger photo ↳ thelnarchives phone hijackers.

user5 the little black dress is doing so good for her, if i saw her in public i would've fainted ↳ user6 i can't believe i live in the same city as this girl like we breathe the same air???

leahsavajeffries i'm sat for the release, we're sat ↳ thelnarchives this is MY superbowl

aryansimhadri i feel excluded out of the 3rd photo ↳ thelnarchives that's okay because you're one of the girls ↳ iamcharliebushnell wait that's not fair

user7 aryan being part of the girls is so real and charlie wanting in is so cute

[upsidedownwithsteve]

hi love! for modern au could I please request modern!eddie dinner/movie date where r and eddie see a horror movie and r getting super scared and spending most of the movie hiding her face in eddies chest?

“This completely defeats the purpose, y’know,” Eddie whispered to you, his breath warm in your ear. You shivered despite the anxiety clawing at your chest, ‘cause the lights had lowered after the trailers had finished and an unsettling film score had started creeping through the speakers.

You’d immediately turned to the boy beside you, face in his chest as you took quick peeks at the screen, trying to work out if the opening credits were already too much for you to handle.

You frowned at him, pouting despite the mouthful of popcorn you’d shoved past your lips. “I told you,” you hissed back, wary of the surrounding audience already glaring at you. “I don’t mind a horror film, but this is like, big leagues.”

Eddie snorted, grinning at you when your grip on the front of his hoodie tightened as the title flashed across the screen, dripping and oozing red in a typical eighties horror tribute.

‘Evil Dead Rise.’

He managed to prise your fingers from the material, bringing your hand to his mouth to press a kiss over your knuckles. He kept it in his, his own fingers soothing over your own, pulling softly until he felt you wilt a little under his touch.

“What’s your level, babe? Gremlins? Scary Movie?”

Eddie was joking but you side eyed him, cheeks warming as you whispered, “look, the Exorcist scene in Scary Movie 2 was just as traumatising as the real thing, alright?”

Eddie smothered another laugh, rolling his eyes when someone in front of you both huffed in annoyance. He mined the threat of launching some popcorn at them, but he was distracted when a jarring screech from the movie made you jump. Your hand was a vice around his.

“Baby,” Eddie soothed. “You shouldn’t have said you’d come if you didn’t wanna see it.” He felt bad, taking in your stricken expression, eyes wide and now glued to the screen as if you couldn’t look away.

“I wanted to spend time with you,” you replied sweetly and well, didn’t that make Eddie feel even fucking worse? “You went to the cinema with the guys last week to see that Joe Quick thing-”

“John Wick,” Eddie corrected but he was smiling, amused.

“-so it’s my turn for date night,” you whispered and Eddie could hear the pout in your tone. “Not Steve’s. Or Dustin’s.”

“You get all my date nights, sweetheart,” the boy assured you and secretly, he was a little pleased at how you jumped when the theatre gasped, another shrill spike of music making you tug him closer. “You okay?”

Your face was against his neck, lips brushing the skin there when you hummed what he thought was a hesitant sound agreement.

In typical fashion, it didn’t take long for the movie to be kicked into high gear and by the end of the first hour, you’d never been more glad to be late to a showing, with the only seats left up the back. You were practically on your boyfriend's lap, back pressed to the cinema wall as you curled into him, feet pressed onto the seat between his thighs and your hands gripped his sweater, the collar of his denim jacket.

“Babe,” Eddie whispered, a fond smile on his lips. “Baby?”

You made a sound, questioning, but you didn’t move from where you’d tucked yourself into Eddie’s shoulder, eyes definitely not looking at the screen. There was a woman crawling along the ceiling and that shit just wasn’t for you.

“You wanna leave? We can leave, I don’t mind.”

And you knew Eddie was telling the truth. He truly wouldn’t have minded, seeing as it was you. But he’d been waiting an age for the film to release and he’d looked forward to it all week. So you shook your head and mumbled a small, “I’m fine.”

You weren’t fine, there was something going on with a cheese grater and a possessed woman and you weren’t down for that. Eddie waited a beat or two, bit down on his lip to hold back his laughter when someone on screen screeched and you wriggled your way even closer in response. He could feel your heartbeat against his chest, double the speed of his own.

“We can go home after and watch whatever you want, alright?” He promised, sneaking a hand up the back of your T-shirt, warm, wide circles drawn over your skin in an attempt at comfort.

He felt you nod. “We’re watching New Moon.” He groaned. “And Eclipse. With the lights on. All night,” you added for good measure.

And who was he to say no to you?

…

[wosowrites]

Always Here (Vivianne Miedema x Reader)

Warnings: None

A/N: Sorry this took so long for such a bad and short fic. Based off this request:

Prompt: Reader doesn’t know much about soccer but still always supports her girlfriend, Vivianne.

You had never known much about football even though you had been watching your girlfriend, Vivianne Miedema play since you were both 17. While Vivianne was a professional football player, you played D1 university hockey. You had just finished university, graduating with a degree in psychology and a masters. The next steps of your life seemed blurry, so you had moved to London, finally putting a stop to the multiple years of long distance with Viv. Today, you were sitting in the stands of an Arsenal versus Aston Villa game. You were sat by yourself, repping your girlfriends name on your back. The score was 3-0 in favour of arsenal in the 70th minute. That’s when you saw someone run onto the field, someone that wasn’t a player.

You watched in confusion as a teenage boy ran on the field, his phone in the air, filming. "What’s going on? Is this normal?" You asked a man on your right. "No. It’s a pitch invader. So rude." The man said with a thick british accent. He was wearing a Williamson jersey. "This doesn’t happen in hockey." You told him. He turned his head slowly too look at you weirdly. "Okay…not into hockey. My bad." You said, looking at the pitch. Your eyes locked on your girlfriend who was standing with her hands on her hips, looking murderous. The boy stared walking up to Leah, and he obviously said something because Viv came flying out of nowhere and body checked the boy to the ground. The whole crowd started clapping as your mouth dropped open. "That’s my girlfriend." You told the man again. "Sure." He said, obviously not believing you.

Eventually, security got the boy off the field and the game continued, although Viv was now on a yellow for her tackle against the boy.

Once the game ended, Viv was quick to make her way towards you. People knew you were dating, you just never talked about it specifically. You would both talk about your relationship in interviews without specifically mentioning any names. You leaned over the railing and kissed her cheek, holding her head to your chest due to the height you had over her because you were in the stands. "Come down." She said. "I wanna hug you properly." Viv added. "You sure it’s okay?" You said. "It’s more than okay. You’re with me." She said. Before climbing down onto the field, you looked back at the man who was staring at you both in shock. "I told you." You said to him.

You climbed down and Viv smirked at you. "What was that about?" She asked you. "I was confused about the… what’s it called… field invader?"

"Pitch invader." Viv corrected.

"Yes. Anyways i asked him what was going on and he told me and i told him that that never happens and hockey and I think he was judging me. After that when you bodied that guy-it was really hot by the way- i told him you were my girlfriend and he looked at me like 'okay crazy'." You told Viv. That was the thing about you, you were extremely quiet but when you started to know someone, you could not be shut up. And that was fine with Viv, she loved hearing you talk, and loved knowing how your brain worked.

"Well that’ll show him." She said, bringing you to a group of the Arsenal girls. You knew them well despite only moving to London a few months ago. You hugged a few of the girls and answered their questions about school and hockey, and eventually you and Viv drove home under the night sky.

[justjensenanddean]

Jensen Ackles and Danneel Ackles Panel | Brighton UK (Crossroads 6), March 11, 2023

( sicparvis87 )

Jensen: IT’S ONLY SATURDAY WE GOT A WHOLE OTHER DAY, PACE YOURSELF! (to Danneel) have YOU been pacing yourself? Danneel : No! (x)

“are you ready for this?” - jensen to danneel  (x)

Ok, so. Danneel’s first con was a Starfury. Jensen said she shouldn’t brag. And a bit later Jensen said he had the dancing covered. (x)

“as long as there’s no dancing i’ll be fine” “it’s okay i have that covered”  (x)

“we’ve got to develop some projects currently in development”  (x)

Jensen saying he’s really proud of what they’ve been doing with the Winchesters and what’s in the work.  (x)

“i wanna work with the people i know i trust and who are outstanding human beings”  (x)

Dream projects? Jensen: “Ruth would obviously be the star.” (Ruth is watching from the balcony.) “Oh hey, Ruth, didn’t see you there.” He wants to work with the people he trusts, outstanding human beings. (x)

Jensen: “we’ve had 15 years to weed out the bad people, I’m not sure how Mark Sheppard is still here…”  (x)

Jensen just wants to work with the people he’s got to work with who are just good people. It’s gotta be grounded in love, family, a tad of humor and a little magic.  (x)

“it’s gotta have heart, humour and a little bit of magic” the unofficial tagline of their company  (x)

Jensen helping Danneel count for how many years they’ve been together when she started as Anael on SPN  (x)

How was it working on set. Danneel struggles with how long she’s been together with Jensen. Jensen knows it would’ve been 12 seasons when she came in at 13 and is proud he knows. (x)

Jensen immediately asked “IS THAT ON THE GAG REEL” when Danneel fell during her first scene on SPN  (x)

“i did not act like a husband in that moment” jensen too focused on getting danneels gag reel moment on film instead of helping her  (x)

Danneel put together a whole playlist for The Winchesters before they even cast anyone, and a lot of it actually made it onto the show. They chose “I’d Love To Change The World” which in the pilot FIRST.  (x)

Which scene with music from The Winchesters did they like most? Danneel put together a playlist before they even cast, a lot of it made it on the show. “10 years after”/I love to change the world” (?) really set the tone. (x)  But a lit of songs they wanted were too expensive to afford. On SPN, as production got more expensive, they had to stop using music so much, used more score to save money (x) 

“i get to go and destroy some robots in a warehouse? i’m in. i’m easy” (x)

Jensen is easy. When he heard he gets to come on the set and destroy a bunch of robots, he was in, but doesn’t play a lot of video games. Danneel snitches that he plays Mario Cart with the kids almost daily. (x)

Jensen said he doesn't play video game anymore but Danneel said he plays Mario Kart almost everyday with the kids  (x)

In his old house pre-Danneel he had a special dark room with two TVs and two couches to play Halo with his friends. (Danneel snitches again.) He plays “blue shy guy” on Mario Cart. (x)

Fan asked if Jensen plays video game and Danneel went “well you play one every day”. And Jensen went “Wordle? … BACKGAMMON?!” (The answer is Mario Kart because he plays it with the kids)  (x)

help jensen is so excited to introduce his kids to his fave videos games when they’re older and he also doesn’t always let his kids win video games which danneel finds mean considering he’s competed by 6 year olds (paraphrase)  (x)

“I know your next question, it’s ‘what character do I choose on Mario kart’, the answer is blue shy guy. I’m a shy guy ” (x)

Q person reccs Red Dead Redemption. Jensen really wanted The Last of Us, but when he heard Pedro got the job, he knew he had no shot. (x)

Jensen really wanted to be on The Last of Us, then he heard Pedro Pascal got the part and went “oh no he’s PERFECT” (im paraphrasing but he was nerding out )  (x)

They’re talking about recreating the music video for their anniversary. Their friend did it first as a birthday gag. So he suggested they do it “for instagram”. Danneel was like “let’s go”. and they got into a serious fight over who would be Paul Simon  (x)

Danneel says they do zero work for instagram content. Q was about the music vid years ago. The Ackles’s argued who plays Chevy and who plays Paul Simon. Jensen complains about having to be the short guy again. He’s gonna get a complex. He yells for Mark to come down. (x)

Danneel telling Jensen he was so good on their anniversary video, and telling him “you were made to play Paul Simon”  (x)

“it was very rare for him to be home during the week… for 15 years”  (x)

He also said he was really sad his kids wouldn’t get to experience the whole ‘taking the cartridge off and having to blow on it for it to work again’ (x)

Danneel didn’t wanna be in The French Mistake bc it’s “Jensen’s thing”  (x)

Karaoke. Danneel only did it once. Sang “Band of the run” and there was a very long musical interlude. It scared her so much she never did it again. Jensen went with the Dawson’s Creek gang and sang “El Paso”.  (x)

Everyone put their glass down either in amazement or shock. There’s a plate in a corner of that bar with an etching how great that night was, Jensen jokes. (x)

Editor, director, actor walk into a bar, you can only buy one drink? Danneel: Editor, they can make you look good. Jensen: Would buy himself a drink. (x)

Danneel once got handed a bag with her as a doll filled with fish hooks. She blindly reached in the bag and straight into a hook. (x)

They’re talking about creepy fans, and Danneel just said “they’re not fans of the show, fans of the show don’t do these things”  (x)

danneel is telling a story abt her accepting a gift off a fan of her being made into a doll out of fish hooks and she accidentally got hurt and jensen said ‘you know how much i had to PAY for that doll?!’  (x)

Weirdest thing given to Jen and Dee, someone left a dead kitten on their door step  (x)

jensens talking about how performing radio company concert for the first time was a very different experience to acting or performing other peoples songs bc with those other two you interpret it your own way but it’s still other peoples words but these were his and steve’s  (x)

Playing in Nashville and performing words he actually wrote himself with Steve was “next level”. Danneel adds that he was nervous and he doesn’t get nervous. (x)

“to get out there and perform something you created it’s certainly more of a vulnerability”  (x)

danneel watched the concert with the kids on stageit. “they thought it was cool” (x)

The kids were pretty impressed seeing him on stage, but they see him play a lot, because he plays them songs on the piano at home all the time.  (x)

their kids have watched the scoobynatural episode so many times  (x)

Jensen is talking about fighting to have Dean dying while he was standing instead of how it was originally planned with Dean dying on the floor. (x)

Jensen about Dean’s death: “I don’t have to LIKE it, but I’m proud of it.”  (x)

Jensen would change how they handled the Leviathans and get rid of them sooner if he got to change something  (x)

What would Dean from s15 tell Dean from s4? Danneel: Beware of vampires!  (x)

question about what directors inspired them the most! (Jensen’s answer has been long but he mentioned Kim Manners, Bob Singer and John Showalter)  (x)

jensen ensuring he was conscious of every crew members job so that they felt like they had purpose.  (x)

Kim Manners and Bob Singer, they both set the tone on the show. Micromanaged. Kim said “you’re gonna direct one day” to Jensen and it got him thinking. It was becausehe was interested in the lenses, lighting & such. (x)

Bob and Phil Sgriccia helped him a lot. Phil said “always have an answer, even if it’s wrong.” Because when you say “you pick” or “whatever” to a Q from someone working for you, you dimish the other person’s job. And you can always change your mind & that tells them you thought (x)  about it, thus making their job even more important. (x)

To Danneel; how did you know he (Jensen) was THE ONE? Jensen; *cracks up* Danneel: It was on Ten Inch Hero, I always knew he was cute and all of that, but… It was one of those, we were driving back and forth, and just talking about our future, and our career (x)  Danneel: I’m a girl who likes to do things first. (…) At the end of the movie, there’s a scene where I walked up to Priestly and gave him a kiss… That was NOT scripted.(x)  Danneel: but obviously Jensen had read the script, he knew it wasn’t scripted. I just knew I had to do something else or it would be too late. (x)

danneel knew by the end of filming ten inch hero once they’d spent time doing long drives talking about their futures and everything and then in the scene where she kisses priestly wasn’t scripted and jensen was like “oh!!!!!! i caught a BIG fish let’s go!”  (x)  “i like your talent your cute your-” “you were like this one can give me good kids” “yeah i saw you with your nephews and-“ “and you were like this is a good pedigree!” (x)

J-yeah but after we dated when did you know I was the one to marry They went on vacation and her mum knew then D needed to marry him. J-i knew I needed to spend the rest of my life impressing her  (x)

When did Danneel know that Jensen was the one? They were friends before but thought they would never be together. They carpooled to the Ten Inch Hero set. 40 mins each way, just talking about the future, how they were raised, carreer… (x)  She always knew Jensen was cute, but those talks really did it. In the last scene of the movie, the little kiss between their characters wasn’t scripted, that was Danneel making the first move. (x)  Jensen immediately knew it was a big fish snd went “bzzzz” (reeling in noise). Jensen prods when she knew he was the one to marry though. They went on a family trip. Then Jensen knew he’d spend the rest of his life trying to impress her. Danneel’s mom knew they were it too. (x)

Jensen: “I’m gonna try to impress for the rest of my life… Still hasn’t done it! I’m gonna keep trying to.” (x)

Danneel said she was really nervous up until she did her first photo ops and everyone was so nice to her  (x)

( MurielFPhotos )

[rd0265667]

Kazuha X Reader: If there was an afterlife

TW!: Dead Reader, Suicide

A/N: There will be stuff in chinese at the end since I kinda based this off a quote that you guys will see later, so I know it's not true in real life, but for this story, let's assume Kazuha knows Chinese

Kazuha walked out from her room, stretching as she yawned. She was still stuck in her half asleep stupor, walking mindlessly towards her members at the dining table as Sakura was handing out breakfast, Eunchae and Yunjin heading to the TV.

As she mindlessly listened to Chaewon and Sakura discussing some of their usual shenanigans, suddenly, something on the TV caught her attention.

"Eunchae-ah, could you change the channel back again?" Kazuha asked, moving towards the TV hastily, Eunchae a little confused at the question but doing as she was told

On the TV, a solemn looking news reporter and a picture of a person Kazuha had not seen in a long time

"We are saddened to announce that Celebrity Y/N L/N, known for the 2025 film "Espionage" has sadly passed. Sources reporting that after a long battle against depression and anxiety, they committed suicide."

All eyes in the room fell to Kazuha, who sat stunned, staring at the TV

Whispers and murmurs filled the room, slowly suffocating Kazuha, who ran to her room, slamming it shut behind her.

"Is she going to be okay?" Yunjin looked worriedly, glancing at Chaewon to see what could be done.

"Just give her some space for now girls. I think we all know what Y/N meant to Kazuha" Chaewon whispered, as the girls nodded in agreement, all feeling a little distraught at the news too. In a way, they felt they were indebted to you.

Kazuha curled into a ball in the corner in her shared room with Sakura. Were you really gone? Just like that? As she buried her head into her arms, there was a timid knock on the door, and a voice Kazuha recognised to be Sakura's rang out

"Zuha, there's someone here for you"

Without an answer, Sakura quickly opened the door, fearing something had happened to Kazuha, only calming down when she saw Kazuha.

Beside Sakura was an older, maybe middle aged man, someone Kazuha didn't recognise

As Sakura beckoned Kazuha to step out, Kazuha obliged, dragging her feet as she sat at the table, opposite to the middle aged man.

"Good Afternoon, Miss Nakamura. My name is Pak Hyun Shik. I'm the executor of Y/N L/N's will. I'm sorry for your loss, but I'm here with you to handle an affair. Y/N has granted you 25% of their properties to give it to a charity of your choice, also, this." He slowly set an object on the table

"I understand Mr Pak. I will get back to you soon." Kazuha bowed, grabbing the object and quickly scurrying to her room, setting the object on her bed

On Kazuha's bed laid a box all too familiar to the idol, for it was hers, a long time ago.

A beautiful maroon blue box, designed like an ancient chest rested on the idol's bed, as she reached forward, tracing the ornate design on the box, slowly opening it to see 7 items, 6 familiar to her, one she wished was not, as well as a scroll above them.

Kazuha chuckled softly to herself, you always loved these fancy scrolls, it made you feel royal, you always claimed.

Taking a deep breath, Kazuha undid the bow over the scroll, unravelling it to reveal a letter.

我最爱的和羽：

如果你正在读这封信，那就意味着我已经选择了去胆小鬼的出路了。很抱歉，我现在要向您发送这些东西，我知道这可能是垃圾，您甚至都不记得了。

My Dear Zuha:

If you're reading this letter, it means that I've taken the coward's way out. I'm sorry that I'm sending you these things now, I understand it's probably junk that you don't even remember anymore.

"Wrong" Kazuha thought to herself, the things in the chest were things she still had vivid memories of.

The Test Paper.

Kazuha slowly pulled out a dusty exam paper, a Chinese test that she still recalled taking. her tidy handwriting and a 100% score adorning the top right hand of her paper still made her feel a little proud.

Kazuha was always horrible at Chinese. She wondered why she took the damn language as her third language in the first place when she already was fluent in English aside from Japanese and Dutch. But she didn't really have a choice, groaning as she repeatedly banged her head on the table, her materials not free from the full frontal assault. Suddenly, she felt her forehead collide, not with cold metal, but a warm hand. Looking up in shock, she turned to see your concerned face looking at her, confused. "Are you okay?" You asked, as Kazuha turned her head in confusion, muttering some nonsense about looking like an idiot. "May I?" You asked, giggling as you gestured to the chair opposite Kazuha. She quickly nodded, as you took the seat opposite her. "So, what troubles you?" Kazuha groaned and passed you the document in her hand. You looked it and stifled a chuckle, Kazuha puffing her cheeks up in mild displeasure at your reaction, before shooting you one of her "judgemental face", though she claims it's just her normal face "Don't be offended, I'm not looking down on your score, I'm just laughing because I've found another fool who chose to take Chinese as their third language. I got lucky since my mom's Chinese, guess you don't have that fortune do you?" Kazuha shook her head in despair, before crashing her head onto her hand again.

"Tell you what, how about I tutor you? I've been told I'm a great tutor." You offered, as Kazuha looked at you in disbelief. "You would do that?" You quickly nodded, as Kazuha quickly turned to skepticism "Why are you doing this? Are you usually this nice to everyone?" She asked, to which you only shot back a goofy grin. "Nope, only to pretty girls." Kazuha couldn't help but blush, looking downward to hide her rosy cheeks, mumbling "flirt" under her breath Regardless, she took you up on your offer, and thus began a friendship that would not last too long. Every week, before class started, you two would meet up, studying and hanging out, and as time went by, Kazuha found her chinese improving, and her feelings growing.

One of those days, Kazuha could recall you being extra nervous, something that didn't escape her notice. A little prying from her revealed that you intended to ask her out on a date, to which she replied snarkily, "If I can ace a test, which I can promise you won't happen, sure!" She would soon eat her words, as you hosted a day long intensive revision session that somehow, someway, got Kazuha full marks on her test.

The look on your face when Kazuha handed you her paper, priceless. She still remembered it to this day. "Guess I owe you a date. Don't disappoint me and there may be more." She said teasingly, before leaving you in a state of shock

The Movie Tickets.

Kazuha pulled out two ticket stubs from the box, the afternoon showing for "Infinity War" at the theatre near where the two of you used to study. She never understood the hype around those silly Marvel Movies, but you insisted that it would be a good film to watch, even for someone who had never watched any of the Marvel movies before. She was inclined to agree, though the company was better than the film

Kazuha stood outside the movie theatre, holding two tubs of popcorn and a drink, looking around impatiently for you, who had disappeared a minute ago to locate a toilet. As quickly as you disappeared, you reappeared and relieved Kazuha of the popcorn in her hand, entering the theatre together with her as the two of you hurriedly found your seats in the darkness. As the movie went on, despite not knowing any of the characters, Kazuha found herself tensing up whenever any of the main characters were in danger, squirming in her seat, before she found an effective way to curb the nervousness. As the Red Robot with a glowing stone in his head got impaled through the back, Kazuha jumped in her seat, her right hand moving out and finding it's unintended location. Your left hand. Drawing your attention away from the movie, you looked at Kazuha, who was trying to nonchalantly act like nothing happened, and you smiled, lightly squeezing her hand in reassurance, an action that did not go unappreciated, as the light of red witch's magic illuminated Kazuha's beautiful smile.

As the movie went on, you suddenly heard a light shuffle toward your left, as Kazuha lifted the arm rest back, instead opting to move closer to you, leaning her head slightly in front your shoulder, an action you reciprocated by putting your arm around her shoulder and pulling her close, feeling her get comfortable against you.

The movie went on as the two of you held each other, Kazuha still remembers how you had to comfort her because the insect guy turned to dust. After the movie, Kazuha took you by the hand, an action she had previously deemed, only for people in serious relationships. You two never really said anything, but this was the end of your friendship, and the beginning of your relationship.

The Membership card

Kazuha pulled out a small card from the box, a faint inscription on it showing a laundromat. Your parent's laundromat, that is. Your parents ran a small laundromat, nothing too big or fancy, but good enough to help them live comfortably and get a child through the education system.

Kazuha still recalls how weird she initially found it when you handed her a membership card to your parent's laundromat card. Kazuha would hang out with you there, helping out when necessary, but mostly the two of you would be seating around, just chatting and joking around, regulars at the laundromat calling you two a lovey dovey couple, an allegation you wore like a bag of honour while Kazuha loved it, but was still shy about it. There was once when your parents were away for a gathering with some old friends, leaving the running of the laundromat to both you and Kazuha. Surprisingly, the two of you were efficient and great at it, you even joked that if both your dreams failed, the two of you could run the laundromat together (You guys can kinda see where this one is going can't you)

The Letters

From the box, emerged another, this one sloppier and less intricate then the bigger box, filled with small pieces of paper. Paper with words that had since faded, but words that remained etched in Kazuha's mind

Kazuha had missed you. Dearly. She wanted nothing more than to call you, her beloved, but her phone was off limits, only available on the weekends, at least according to the trainer for HYBE. Few months prior, Kazuha had passed an audition to become a Kpop trainee. What she did not anticipate was how tough it would be, especially since you wouldn't be able to frequently contact her or meet up with her. To counteract this, you came up with a brilliant scheme, as you loved to call it. The day before Kazuha went to become an official trainee, the two of you went for dinner together, where you handed her a small box. Inside the box was treasures beyond Kazuha's greatest and wildest imagination. She still chuckles as she reminisces about it now. You were always such a dramatic. What was in those boxes, were letters, handwritten letters that you had wrote for Kazuha, 20 to be exact. Letters for Kazuha to read in any situation. Her personal favourite? "Read this when you miss me."

In that letter was you writing about how she could "not miss you as much", ideas like hugging the jacket that you had given her, looking at your pictures together, and contained sweet nothings about how Kazuha was the greatest and was the love of your life. Kazuha read that letter so many times she could basically recite it from heart.

The letters for Kazuha helped her through the tough times of being a trainee, and it would keep her sane enough till the weekends, where she was given one free day to go out, a day she would often spend with you, you being sure to clear your weekends up too, a task made difficult by trying to make it big in the film industry, but you made it work, for her. When Kazuha debuted, she handed the letter back to you, along with another small stack of hers.

A single red rose

From the depths of the box, Kazuha pulled out a rose, plastic to stand the test of time, but well made it enough that it could be passed as a legitimate rose.

Kazuha recalls finding it in her bag at her debut performance at music bank, realising that you must have snuck it into her bag the last time you snuck into the LeSserafim dorm. The other members knew of you of course, Chaewon initially disapproving knowing the repercussions if the two of you got caught, but ultimately supported the relationship, as long as you two didn't get caught. She wanted Kazuha to be happy, after all. The night before the debut performance, Kazuha found herself cuddling into your arms, shaking with nervousness at her debut performance, filled with terror on what would happen if she messed up. Nothing that couldn't be solved by your love and affection of course. Kazuha smiles as she remembers the pride on your face when you claimed that your kisses were magic, a kiss from you scaring away any bad thoughts that dared invade your beloved's mind. As she slowly vented to you, you were sure to comfort her, whispering sweet nothings into her ear to calm her down, something that proved effective as she slowly fell asleep in your arms, you carrying her to her bed being the last thing she remembered. What she would only find out at a later year was that as you left the room, you were intercepted by Chaewon and Sakura, both with worried expressions on their faces. Their manager was growing suspicious of your relationship, and you would have to be more careful. Before heading out for her dance, Kazuha quickly took her phone out, recording a short message thanking you for the cute gift. She didn't know it, but that message got you through some tough times, even after the incident. She also gave you the rose, as she insisted it served as great decoration in your room

A Bracelet

A small bracelet, it's magnet long grown rusty, rests in the box as Kazuha picked it up, an identical pair lying in her bedside drawer. She couldn't bear to throw it away

This was the gift you had gotten Kazuha for your second anniversary. While it seems pretty underwhelming, you had actually made the bracelets yourself, spending hours on it in your free time. Kazuha loved it, she was never one for expensive gifts, preferring gifts that hit her close to the heart. Kazuha loved that bracelet, wearing it almost everywhere except for MV or commercial shoots, always keeping it on her person. You also always wore it, incorporating the bracelet into the outfit of whichever character you were playing at the time. It all went well, so you thought. As the days went by, Kazuha's manager grew more suspicious, then one day, she spotted the bracelet that she always saw Kazuha wearing, on your wrist. This prompted her to confront Kazuha. Kazuha cringed, that night was horrible. After much probing and Kazuha trying to deny, Kazuha finally admitted to dating you, something that did not bode well with her manager. The company had a strict no dating policy, and after the manager reported it to HYBE, an ultimatum was delivered and Kazuha had a week to decide

The 4 leaf clover

The final object emerged from the box. The object that reminded Kazuha of the worse night of her life.

You had successfully snuck into LeSserafim's dorm once again, clutching in your hand a small trinket. As you entered your girlfriend's room, you were surprised to see her with a frown on her face, as opposed to the smile she always had plastered on when she saw you. You didn't pay it much heed at that point though. As you climbed into the room, you set the trinket onto the table, a 4 leaf clover, you wanted to gift Kazuha a good luck charm, as Kazuha beckoned for you to sit next to you. She had thought of every possible outcome, bargaining with management, quitting to be together with you, anything, but there was only one way this could ever really go. "Management wants me to break up with you, and cease all contact with you." She quickly spat out, shutting her eyes tightly, unwilling to look you in the eye

You sat there stunned, unsure of how to respond to that. "They've threatened my members, Y/N. If I don't do what they want, they're going to disband the whole group, something about group image. I'm sorry Y/N." She muttered out, tears dripping from her eyes "So we're done? And you're not going to fight for us?" You lightly scoffed, still in disbelief at what was going on. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I can't sacrifice my group member's dreams, or my own, just for you." Kazuha mumbled through her tears, as you slowly got up, grabbing the clover and shoving it into your pocket. "I guess I'm just not worth it then..." You whispered spitefully. You knew this had to be done, of course. If you were given this scenario, break up with Kazuha or her and her members would suffer, you knew that you were the right choice to let go. But that didn't make it hurt less. It wasn't easy for Kazuha either, and you could see that, your comment making her break down even further. " I guess you were right all those years ago, 童话里都是骗人的( Fairytales are a lie)" You said, moving to leave through the window. "Y/N, I still l-" Kazuha could barely spit out, before you interrupted her. "I hope this is worth it. Goodbye." You said, turning to look at her one last time, tears streaming down her face and your face too. Closing your eyes, you muttered out a last, "I love you.", before climbing out of the window and heading back to your dorm. Kazuha was inconsolable that night, crying in Sakura's arm through the night, as the rest of the members heard what had happened from outside the door, powerless to do anything about it.

Finally looking through the items in the box, tears coming back to Kazuha's eyes, memories she had buried 3 years ago now bursting to the surface. Through her tears, she continued reading the scroll

随着岁月的流逝，我非常高兴地看着你的事业蒸蒸日上，我真的为你感到高兴。我想你可以说我的职业生涯也相对顺利。我能够让我的父母退休，过上舒适的生活。但我很抱歉你不得不这样看待我。我希望你知道，即使到最后，我都在努力战斗，为明天而战，为迎接明天的决心而战，但我已经筋疲力尽了，和羽。媒体每天都以他们可以编造的任何理由抨击我，我不能走出家门而不受到不喜欢我的粉丝的威胁，仅仅因为我不是他们的最爱。我累了, 和羽，太累了。我好希望你能现在在这里和我在一起。你不知道这些年我有多么想念你，多么想靠在你的肩膀上哭泣，多么想在累了的时候靠在你的身上，多么想有一个人来疼爱我。我要说的话，请你理解，我说出来，是不想因我没告诉你而后悔。 虽然我们两个的事业很成功，尽管你那天打破了我的心，我想告诉你，如果有来生，我还是会选择和你在一起，报税，开我父母的洗衣店。我很希望我们能做到，但现在已经太晚了。虽然我现在要走了，我希望你会永远自得。你拥有了我的心，我是会永远爱你的。 您的最爱，Y/N

(As the years have gone by, I've watched with great joy as your career prospered, and I'm really happy for you. I guess you could say my career has gone relatively well too. I was able to retire my parents, and live comfortably. But I'm sorry you have to see me in this light. I hope you know that even till the end, I tried to fight, fight for the next day, for the resolve to face the next day, but I'm exhausted, Zuha. The media blasts me everyday for any reason they can concoct, I can't step outside my house without being threatened by fans who dislike me simply because I'm not their favourite. I'm done, Zuha. I wish you were here to be with me. You don't know how much I've missed you these past years, how much I've wanted to cry on your shoulder, lean on you when I felt tired, or have someone to love me. What I'm about to say, please understand that I say it as I do not wish to regret you not knowing my feelings. Though we both have successful careers, and even though you broke my heart that day, in another life, I would have loved to spend it with you, paying taxes and running my parent's laundromat. I always wished we could do that, but it's too late now. Though I'm gone, I hope you will always remember, that my heart is yours,  and that I love you. Forever, and always)

Your love, Y/N"

Kazuha couldn't hold it anymore, breaking down into a sobbing mess as Sakura, hearing the commotion, barged into the room, running to hold Kazuha, her other members following close behind

"It's not fair! It's not fair! I miss Y/N! I want them back now! Please! Please!" Kazuha could only scream in her desperation, tears streaming down her cheeks as punched her bed, Sakura and Yunjin holding Kazuha tightly as they tried their best to console her, the other members trying what they could to calm the heart broken girl down.

Truth is, she wanted it too. If she could go back. She would have loved it too. She would have loved just running your parent's laundromat with you, doing taxes with you, growing old with you.

You would have loved her, and she would have loved you.

[julianalvarez9]

meant to be / martin ødegaard

requested: yes

wc: 1.1k words

summary: you're an aspiring actress being interviewed by jimmy fallon at the tonight show. you can't possibly imagine where tonight would take you, though.

author's note: sooo my first request for martin 🥹 i'm was actually really excited to start writing for him, he's just the cutest little guy isn't he ☹️ hope you like it!!!

"so, y/n, how is it that you're married?" the interviewer asked, jokingly tone heard through his voice. "stop!" you giggle, repositioning yourself on the sofa to keep comfortable. you had done a lot of interviews over the past few months, but still being an aspiring actress, sometimes, the nerves got to you. especially on shows like the one you were at currently, where you knew that it was watched by millions.

you weren't mad at the topic being brought up, but you were surprised that he had done enough searching before interviewing you to find the video he was alluding to. the fact that you had married on a holiday with your family when you were just a kid was spilled by you as a joke, while filming a video of 2 lies and 1 truth with florence pugh, your co-star. ever since then, it had become almost a meme to try and find the kid your younger self fell in love with during the family vacation.

"your turn now!" your co-lead yells, excited about how her inevitable win. it had been fun until now, your chemistry clearly showing on camera, and you were quite entertained about the whole challenge. but being a deeply competitive person, you knew you had to win this round to even have a chance of taking the lead on the score. "okay so, this one's hard," you earned mischievously, before listing the options. "i went skydiving during the summer, i married young, or i have two older brothers," you sentenced, trying to keep your face hard as stone to avoid giving away what the truth was.

"you went skydiving!" florence assured, so sure about her answer that she was squealing, thinking she had won the round, and consequently, the game. "no! i'm actually afraid of heights," you laughed, and her face fell when she realized she had lost. "it's quite a tricky one, but i'm married," you laughed, and her eyes widened in surprise.

"not really married, though, that's why i said it was a tricky one," you laughed, and continued to explain. "one summer i went on a cruise with my family and fell in love with this one kid. we jokingly got married. i think my mom even has a picture!" you laughed, and florence furrowed her eyebrows immediately, pouting at your cheating. "yeah but you're not really married, dummy, that's cheating!".

"we have some news! your mom found the picture and she kindly sent it to us!".

your face turned bright red when the audience started cheering, and you turned around to see the picture showing in the screens behind you. two little boys were seen, holding hands under a tree. you didn't remember it clearly enough to recognise where you were, but you remember that the cruise had stopped once on the coast before returning back home, and you guessed that's where the picture was taken. "that's so embarrassing! i had never seen it" you commented truthfully. "i hope he doesn't recognize himself," you laughed while blushing, and tried to fan air into your face to make your cheeks calm down. the entire studio was cheering, and jimmy was pleased to see your reaction and how excited the whole crowd was about his discovery. "you didn't get to him yet?" he asked curiously, and you shaked your head in negative.

meanwhile, internet was going crazy about it. the search had started when you joked about it months ago, but now, with photographic evidence, it didn't took long until someone recognised who the little kid by your side was.

the interview was about to come to an end, but minutes before, jimmy clapped his hands excitedly. "we have a surprise for you, y/n!," he squealed, and the crowd let out a "oooh" in anticipation. "oh my god!" you exclaimed, while smiling widely, "i really like surprises". his eyes glinted mischievously, "well, we hope you like this one! we've found your husband with the internet's help!". the sound in the studio was deafening, cheers and screams filling your ears, but the only thought that you could form was a simple question. what? it couldn't be.

jimmy went on, this time, explaining to the camera and the viewers. "on the line is martin ødegaard, arsenal's captain, welcome!".

after what felt like too long, but probably, was only a couple of seconds, he answered a shy "hey", thick english accent lacing through his deep voice. "so, martin, is it really you?" the interviewer pushed, and you were glad that the focus had turned from you, because you still were in shock about it. you never even considered that the little five year old guy would ever find you, let alone, be someone in the public eye as you were. it seemed unreal, and you still were having problems believing it.

"i guess so," he laughs, and you are one hundred percent sure that you look like a tomato now, after hearing the beautiful sound heard through the line. "my mum always watches your show, and she told me she recognised me in the picture you showed earlier," he explained, and after jimmy showed the picture again, a few tweets were also shown on the screen; various fans pointing the similarity between the little kid in the photo and what you could guess was a picture of martin as a kid.

you were taken back to reality from watching the screen showing the tweets by his sweet voice alluding at you. "how's my wife doing? haven't seen her in so long," martin joked, and the whole crowd yelled in delight. you laughed, while trying to shake off the feelings erupting in your stomach after being called his wife. "it's been like 20 years, no?," you asked, already knowing the answer. "yeah, i think so".

you didn't want to think too much about it: you knew it was only a joke. but 20 years is too much time, and he could be actually married and with a family of his own. you shifted uncomfortably in your seat at the thought, and it was like the interviewer had read your mind. "martin, are you actually married? kids?".

"apart from y/n, no," he joked, and the public laughed. "i'm focusing on football currently," he pointed out, and a few pictures of him wearing a red jersey and celebrating appeared on the screen behind you. so he was really arsenal's captain, wasn't he? "that's great! y/n, do you like football?".

"yeah, my dad's actually a diehard arsenal fan," you said, matter of factly, remembering how your weekends went when you were a kid, seated at the sofa with your dad, while cheering on his favorite red team. it really seemed too good to be true. "you were really meant to be, weren't you?," quipped jimmy, buzzing at the thought of actually being a matchmaker between the two of you.

"i guess so," you smiled.

[oyesmendes]

message in a bottle

a/n: sadness, anger, breakups; and words, lots of it. this was inspired by a couple of new songs i've heard, and you can find them in a playlist i linked below! as usual... comments and love are much appreciated <3

in which singer!y/n leaves five messages on her new album for her ex-boyfriend, charles leclerc. 

masterlist here! | playlist here

"mate! did you see?" pierre opened the door to his best friend's apartment, eyes glued to the screen as he set the borrowed clothing items down. 

charles looked up from the piano score to him, "see what?" 

"razzo's new album, she just put it out last week." charles stared blankly at pierre. he hadn't heard your nickname on such a long time, it almost didn't register to his brain. but of course, how could the universe let him forget about you? 

his razzo. his little sky rocket. the nickname you'd gotten from his grandma the first time you visited monaco. and it stuck ever since then. 

"do you want to listen to it?" pierre asked.

charles felt like a deer caught in headlights. because he in fact, did really want to listen to the sound of your voice again, but will he ever admit to it? 

"no- no, no. there isn't a need to." 

"are you sure?" pierre asked again. charles nodded, distracting himself by arranging the score sheet that sat perfectly on the piano. 

"okay, i'm just dropping these off. gotta go." 

the door closes, and charles takes out his phone immediately, typing your name into the search bar on instagram. of course, you pop up almost instantly, and charles doesn't hesitate before clicking on your name. 

his heart flutters when he sees the first picture on your feed. a picture of you smiling from ear to ear, champagne in your hand - classic album release picture; 

thereal_y/n: more than a million streams in two days. you guys are unreal! 

he reads the congratulatory messages in the comments, scrolling through all your mutual friends until he stops by one that catches his eye. 

fans_ofy/n: tell me that cover isn't of monaco?

there's a flurry of other comments following it, and charles couldn't help but to continue scrolling through. 

then he sees it in the next post. 

the title of the EP - message in a bottle. it was in your handwriting, covering the center of a picture which made charles gasp. that picture. the one he was all too familiar with. the one you took using your film camera in the summer of 2019 - the sunset in monaco, with charles back view being the focal point of it all. 

his heart nearly plummets to the ground.

this is why pierre asked if he wanted to listen.

now charles couldn't help but to click on the link in your bio, which led straight to the album on spotify. twenty tracks. ten of which were your voice notes. 

he connects his phone to the bluetooth speakers, and pressed play. 

go the distance - 

"ahhh the opening of an ep. it has to be a banger, right?" you chuckle, "i wrote this a couple of years back when i was in a long distance relationship. It was tough, the both of us having to travel the world for our jobs, we hardly got to see each other." 

charles had to hit pause, the sound of your voice too shocking to his system. he covers his mouth with his hand. you sounded so soft, so gentle, like the calm in the absolute chaos of the world. he pressed play.

"and even if we did, it was usually only for a couple of days. it was rough, being so far from the one you loved, but i knew that deep down it was always worth to hold on, because we were so good, and we had the chance of going the distance."

it goes silent for two seconds, before jumping to the tune he knew all too well.

deep down i know, we'll go the distance. charles knew every word to that song. the familiar melody echoing through his house all those years before. hell, he had that song even before it was put together like this. the raw vocals, the squeaking of guitar chords was all he could remember. the way you both slow danced in the kitchen to the stripped down version of it. 

he knew the meaning behind every word, the story each line held. it felt like a cruel trip down memory lane, the silhouettes of you and him now floating around the apartment you once shared with him. it was your song with him - yknow the one that every couple has? yeah, this was it.

it wasn't long before the three minutes and forty seconds are up, and the song ends, allowing your voice to come through the speakers again. 

heart won't let me -

"now this one," you sigh, "it's a complete switch of moods, a switch in timeline. go the distance was very much at the start of a relationship, when you think everything would work; but then comes heart won't let me, which shows how things don't work. how you're constantly arguing about the same things over and over again. how you struggle to work things out with your partner and you should probably leave but your heart doesn't allow you to." 

charles heart squeezes at your words. it went back to you and him, standing in this very apartment, arguing about something he didn't remember - 

"why the fuck are we doing this, charles?" you stand, back pressed against the counter top, your arms folded in front of you. 

charles rubs his face with his hand, "i don't know! you're the one making a big fuss out of it." 

"yeah because you promised to come to the show, charles! my parents, friends, they were all there, excited to see you again-" 

"i had a bad race, y/n. forgive me if i didn't want to entertain your people." he said sarcastically. 

"then maybe i should leave." you mutter. you grab your keys, one hand on the door, but charles grabs your arm, pulling you towards him. he closes the gap between the two of you, resting his head on top of yours, whispering softly, 

"no, don't go." 

tears now ran down his face, and he wipes them with the back of his hand. everytime i try, everytime i try to leave, my heart won't let me.

"fuck me," he pauses the song, grabbing a beer from the fridge that he shouldn't be drinking. he scrolls through the tracks, reading each one of the titles. but it doesn't give him much hints, or any form of preempt for his heart. 

the next song plays. 

what a time -

"what a time - this one has got to be my favourite. it literally came about with one chord and one phrase from me. ahaha, we were in the studio pretty soon after my breakup, and mikey just looked at me, asking why i looked so grim. he was playing a chord over and over again and i told him about my breakup, about everything." 

"fuck." charles mutters, taking another swig from the bottle. he didn't know if he could take it. not hearing your voice for six months straight, and he's now listened to it for ten minutes.

"but yeah, this is about a night i had with someone. we were in belgium, it was literally in the middle of the night-" you laugh breathlessly, "we sat in a park and talked for hours upon hours about our future. and when i look back at it now i just think - what a time, yknow?"

"mmm, and i thought it would be good to have a male perspective of things; because breakups or relationships, they always involve two people, and i wanted to hear the other side, his side of things. that's how niall came into the picture. we wrote this, pretty much in twenty minutes? now i'm just rambling, haha- hope you guys like this one as much as i do." 

charles holds on to the neck of the beer bottle so tightly that his knuckles turn white. i admit that i think about it sometimes. your voice start to turn into white noise.

you both sat on a park bench at 2AM in the morning, just after the belgium gp. charles head was in your lap, your hand massaging his scalp. the air was cool, and quiet; the perfect setting for the both of you.

"how many kids should we have?" charles asked.

"i want two, at least."

"a boy and a girl?" you nod.

"where should we raise them?"

"monaco." you stated simply. he sat up to face you, "not in the states? or france - where your parents are?"

"oh never in the states. i live there because of my job, and besides, france is literally a stones throw away from monaco- we can decide when the time comes, love." you smile, cuddling into his arms.

irrational anger bubbles in his chest - who was this niall? and who the fuck is he to give his perspective on a breakup that he wasn't even involved in? what a lie, what a lie. charles disconnected his phone from the speakers and put in his airpods.

he needed to get out of here before he drowned in painful memories.

when you lose someone -

the elevator ride down seemed to last a lot longer than he remembered.

"more sad ballads...i probably should put a warning on this thing."

"this is about losing someone that you love. well to be honest, it was meant for my grandma, the light of my life that i lost last year. but in between then and the million things happening, the song got morphed into losing the love of your life. and yeah- i, i think it speaks for itself." 

your voice echoes in his brain now, fogging his mind. and he doesn't realise that pierre, his every loving best friend, was waiting downstairs. charles stops right in front of him, and the dejected look on his face tells pierre everything he needed to know.

"you listened to it?" pierre was stating the obvious. he knew charles would listen to it. he knew he didn't have the control to stop himself. he knew he still cared.

"i'm left with the last two." charles tells him.

"give me the keys."

"you're not driving my-" 

"then we'll take my car," pierre readily unlocks the honda. charles didn't protest, climbing into the passengers seat. 

he connects his phone to the speakers in the car, and the song plays while pierre drives into the night. It feels like a Ferrari racing. pierre hears the lyric, his eyes darting to his friend who's expression falters just slightly. he wants to press the radio button, but charles swats his hand away.

"maybe this was a bad idea." pierre mutters.

charles just looks out of the window, the skyline of monaco passing him, "just drive, please." 

he had to listen to it all, he had to know how much he hurt you. 

"maybe we should break up."

"excuse me?"

you had been arguing over the last ten minutes, over something so minuscule it was ridiculous. charles had had a bad race weekend, and you, well you had just lost your grandmother. the both of you in the worst frame of mind possible.

but you hadn't expected him to say those words.

"maybe i should leave." charles repeats. you frown, trying to close the gap between the both of you but he moves away. you knew the words were no longer an empty threat. they held weight; very heavy, heavy weight.

"why are you doing this, charles?"

"its for your sake, y/n." he couldn't even look you in the eye when he spoke.

"bullshit. don't put this on me when you stopped fighting for us. you stopped loving me."

"i love you, razzo."

"then why now? why after the funeral? why at my lowest, at my breaking point did you decide it was right to break up with me?!" you screamed so loud, charles was afraid the entire family was going to barge into the room.

"because i can't do this anymore, mon ange. but i promise-" he reaches to grab your hand, but you pull away quickly.

"get the fuck out of my sight."

charles takes a huge inhale, and pierre is at the verge of muting the radio. when you lose somebody you love. the hardest thing i've ever had to learn.

"charles-"

"pierre, please. just let me listen." but pierre hits the pause button on the speakers, stopping at a red light. he turns to his best friend.

"i have to tell you something." charles nods slowly, looking into his friend's eyes,

"she's in monaco."

time freezes for him. pierre doesn't have a choice but to turn back to the steering wheel and keep driving when the light changes. he sat in silence, unable to play the last voice note, the last song. the car pulls to a stop at a building, one that charles knew all too well.

and they let the next track play.

come back home 

"come back home," you sigh, "if you haven’t noticed, i wrote this for him." you pause, "this entire EP, from start to finish was a message for him. for us. i don't know. i thought alot about it, before i released this EP. i thought about the consequences of my actions and words. but the more i let these songs sit with me in a closet, the worse i felt. so i decided to release this, as a message in a bottle. you know? like the ones that you find at the beach? i don't know if it only happens in movies but yeah. this is for the both of us, for him, if he ever listens - to come back home."

from the outside, it wasn't clear who he was, because god knows you had your share of exes. but charles knew.

pretending that we don't care, but tension cuts the air. you never stopped caring. in fact, you cared more than ever. getting regular updates from the rest of the drivers on the grid about charles. watching every race, every interview, just to get a glimpse of him.

"why don't you ask him yourself, razzo?"

"we're not together anymore, pierre." you paced around your apartment in LA, the 2021 abu dhabi gp podium ceremony playing in the background.

"but you obviously still care." pierre sighs.

"i never stopped caring, pierre. charles was the one that left, remember?"

charles finally had the courage to speak, "she's up there?"

"she's with daniel and lando. but they're on their way back, if you want to see her."

he nods. hell, what do I know where you and I go? damn it, I hope you come back home.

both of them had gotten out of the car, resting on its hood in a comfortable silence until they hear a commotion.

they turn their attention to the noise, and there you stood, in all your glory. laughing at something the boys had said, arms linked with the both of them as you strut down the pavement. lando nudged you to the direction of the two drivers.

your breath is caught in your throat.

charles' heart races.

daniel and lando take the hint, unlooping their arms from yours, bidding you goodbye. charles had to admit that you looked amazing - dress hugging your curves in all the right ways, your hair cut till your shoulders, the way it framed your face so well. oh, how he missed you.

pierre pushes him forward, and they make their way towards you; giving small waves to the mclaren drivers as they leave.

"hi razzo," pierre hugs you, "hi pierre."

he pats you on the shoulder, then charles, and they exchange something in french before he leaves.

leaving you alone, with him.

you laugh nervously, "guess you listened?"

"razzo-"

"charles-"

"ladies first," charles chuckled. it felt too real.

"would you like to come up? for a coffee?" you gestured to the lobby of your apartment, "i really just want to get these heels off."

charles nodded, following you up to your home. he operates on autopilot, taking off his shoes, then kneeling on the ground to help with the straps of your heels-

"charles..." you breathe out, a pained expression on your face. then he panics. he pulls his hand away from your ankles, standing up quickly. you hurry to unbuckle the straps on your own, padding towards the kitchen.

"water, coffee, tea or beer?" you peek from behind from the fridge door.

"water." charles replies. you hand him a bottle, settling for a beer for yourself. it was awkward, standing in an apartment with your ex, after releasing an entire album for him- to him.

"razzo. i- i je suis désolé. i'm sorry." charles sighs, sinking his forehead into his hands. you squeeze his forearm, a sad look on your face.

"je ne trouve pas les mots" i can't find the words. he tells you.

"then use your actions."

it almost felt like a taunt, as if you were mocking him. but charles took his shot, leaning forward and kissing you softly. something that he had been yearning to do the day you packed up your bags and left. and you let him, gave him permission to continue. his hand cupped your face softly, and he could taste the same strawberry chapstick on your lips.

he pulls away first, forehead still pressed against yours.

"pas besoin de s'excuser," no need to be sorry, you finally tell him. you caress his cheek with your thumb, "i'm just glad you got the message."

taglist: @primadonnasdream @dr3lover @chicadelapartamento512-blog @thebagginsofbaggend @starlightoctavia @d0ntjudgemy50shades @cowspew @justthatgirlxox @ggaslyp1 @fromthedeskofjoii @lorenakaspersen @words-4u @o0itsjustme0o @ambrosialilly @totowolfff @gulsolsikke @enjoymyloves @rmaddens @care2703 @katcontrreras @tattered-tales @luvrboygaslys @piceous21​ @shristi-jaluka @kyomihann @sgkophie @jpotterdilf @guardians-ofthe-lastyoungkilljoy @idkiwantchocolatee @monte-carlando @bigdiccricc @organasith @anthonykatebridgerton @icecoldtires

[sunderlust]

this is me trying iii (rooster x reader)

masterlist part 1 | part 2 | part 3 pairing: bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw x reader synopsis: bradley bradshaw has always been the bane of your existence... and you wouldn't go as far as saying he's the object of all your desires, but he's most certainly become your rock in the storm you're weathering as you try to navigate the murky waters known as your future. poetic ramblings aside, you're determined to make it up to him and take charge of your life for once. if only he'd pick up the damn phone... warnings: 18+ ONLY, detailed description of a panic attack, explicit language, mentions of alcohol consumption, explicit sexual activity (piv, oral f recieving), angst, realizations, talk about therapy, happy ending <3 note: as always, so much love to seasonsbloom and gretagerwigsmuse for beta-ing, supporting, dealing with my insanity. I wouldn't be posting my writing without them, let alone have created this series, so please give them some well deserved love

Your laptop remains closed on the coffee table, taunting you right where you left it after that phone call. It’s been impossible for you to muster up the courage to open it, let alone investigate the unread emails collecting dust in your inbox. You know they most likely carry sage advice and words of affirmation from the colleagues and professors you reached out to last week, but you’re completely overwhelmed with a wave of self-consciousness, almost embarrassed that you contacted them and did grad school research. It feels like your anxiety has shut down all the hope you had for your future.

And the more you look back on that night, the more guilty you feel at the way you handled things with Bradley. It’s not like he explicitly said to you that you were destined for failure - it was more so the presumptuous tone he spoke with and his words lacking the usual energy he had when he was conversing with you. You felt like a burden, like you’d be stuck in this fucking town forever while he jetted off to be successful elsewhere, earning Medals of Honor and shacking up with pretty girls in dive bars. (You try not to think hard about why you’re so concerned with his dating escapades.)

Bradley had texted numerous times after you hung up on him. On that fateful terrible night, you ignored his messages purely out of spite, simply turning your phone off and distracting yourself with whatever film Netflix suggested to you until you drifted off into a dreamless sleep right on the couch. But by morning, the guilt settled in like a heavy fog - and by the time you clocked into work at Java and realized he wasn’t gracing the coffee shop with his presence, you weren’t sure if he wanted to hear from you. 

You don’t know why it feels like a breakup. Not when you guys were just friends, just old rivals trying to have a fresh start, just two people with a lot of weight on their shoulders- okay. It might have started becoming a little more than friends to you. And you blame Bradley for being so wonderful, and kind, and thoughtful, and pretty. It’s like you saw a completely different side to him the past week, one you saw glimpses of back in undergrad but were too proud to try and investigate further, get a closer look at the wonderful man underneath. Now you regret not giving him a chance to explain, regret your biting words, regret thinking that he’d reverted back to the Bradley who used to rub his higher exam score in your face at the end of the semester. 

Because he was so kind to you - taking you out for drinks and planning quality time with you and getting to know you and taking you on that hike. He fully honored his promise to make a fresh start with you. And you just threw it back in his face. 

The guilt swarms you, and you feel more alone than ever now that you’re back at square one, still feeling overwhelmed thinking about your career and your future. You were supposed to be leisurely treading water, but you’re haunted by Bradley’s words swimming around you, taunting you, pulling you under the surface. 

-- 

Everything comes crashing down on Thursday near the end of your shift. You’ve especially been on edge for the past few days, but something feels especially off right now: the acrid smell of burnt coffee hits your nostrils too sharply, the sound of the coffee bean grinder feels like you’re being knighted with a chainsaw over your head, and you’re hot, it’s so fucking hot in this stupid coffee shop and this stupid city and you can’t seem to cool down, can’t seem to catch your breath, can’t seem to slow down. 

The moment the clock hits one, you’re shucking off your apron in a frenzy and just barely missing the hook you usually hang it on, sending a one word farewell to Britt and Todd before dashing out the door and towards your car. With shaking hands, you pull out your keys and blink rapidly, sensing an onslaught of waterworks the moment your ass hits the driver’s seat. 

You haven’t had a panic attack in a while. In all honesty, you thought you forgot how to have them - but you realize now it feels like every little thing over the past few years has built up into a towering skyscraper that is not up to your mind’s building codes. And it’s all about to come tumbling down right now. 

As predicted, the moment you slam the door shut the tears start to fall, and you start heaving for breath and wonder if you should maybe roll down the windows - if you’re willing to risk having other people hear your biggest fucking meltdown in favor of getting a little fresh air for yourself. Do you even deserve it right now? You’re not sure. All you know now is vibrating nerves and constricting lungs and wet cheeks and for some reason you don’t know if you can remember where you are-

Ground yourself with your five senses, you vaguely recall reading about on the internet - and you try to pull your head out from where it is, try to regulate your breathing enough to remember how this fucking grounding exercise is supposed to go. 

5 things you can see. Easy enough - you open your eyes to count off your steering wheel, the silver Honda Civic parked in front of you, the old empty iced coffee in your cup holder, the traffic light at the intersection turning red, the bunny-shaped cloud in the sky. 

4 things you can feel - the leather seat under you, the California sun warming up your skin, your nails digging into your palms (unclench, you consciously think), the tears sort of drying on your cheeks. 

3 things you can hear. Cars on the street? A dog barking? Your breathing, which is slowing down now. 

2 things you can smell. Coffee on your clothes. Your favorite car freshener from Bath and Body Works.

1 thing you can taste - matcha. Caramel and matcha, because you remember thinking about trying to craft the monstrosity and tasting it earlier, and somehow it still lingers. You force out a smile, thinking bitterly about whether you’ll get the chance to tell Bradley about it. 

You’re not completely calm - not in the slightest. But you need to get out of here, get some air, and now that you’re physically stable, you finally start your car, roll the windows down, and drive. 

-- 

At a stoplight, you have an epiphany and pull out your phone to search for directions on how to get to Sunset Cliffs Natural Park - perhaps a hike would do you some good. A small part of you worries about going on your own, but you’re somehow still feeling numb enough to ignore it.

Once you park your car and step out, you feel a cool breeze whip around you, soothing your hot skin and easing some of your worries. Slipping on a pair of sunglasses, you make your way down towards the trail, thankful you wore comfortable shoes to work. Twenty minutes later, you find yourself sitting down on a rock closer to the ocean, and you glance down at how far away the water looks. 

And you think back to when there was a moment you weren’t grinding yourself down to the bone, to when you weren’t constantly itching to cross off the next thing off your to-do list, to when you weren’t so occupied with completing a project in hopes that it would secure you a ticket to a supposedly better career position - when you weren’t lost in the constant grind of a job that gave you no work-life balance whatsoever. 

The sound of the ocean rushes into your ears, and you look out to try and pinpoint the farthest point a wave starts forming and follow its journey towards land, watch as the foam crashes down on the ocean before retreating back into deeper waters. And you feel like in some sense you’ve been a wave all along, and now you’re just drifting back out into open waters to let the current carry you elsewhere. 

For the first time, you don’t wipe away the tears forming. You let them fall down, cascade down your cheeks and drip onto your shirt. The ocean breeze You feel chilly, your ass hurts, and you can’t believe you let yourself believe, for even a second, that there wasn’t more out there for you. 

-- 

After returning to the guest house, you make a beeline for your computer, ignoring how sweaty the anxiety attack and walk made you and how desperately you wanted to shower the whole drive over here. You’re filled with a sense of determination - a genuine drive to make a plan for yourself, something you haven’t felt in ages. 

First things first - you locate an email from Cam dating back to a month ago when you first settled here: therapists in San Diego, cognitive behavioral specialists and group therapy options for anxiety. It’s been on the back burner for long enough, and you resolve to ask Cam for more guidance, more support, more help because you’re realizing now you can’t shoulder the burden yourself.

After this, you turn your attention to the unread emails in response to career advice requests. Gradually, you sift through them and bookmark sites for grad school, creating an excel sheet just like you did back in undergrad when you were shortlisting all the companies you wanted to work at. 

It feels cathartic - having a clean inbox and a new sheet of possibilities. But there's one more thing on your docket: you pull out your phone and unlock it, navigating to your chat history with Bradley. Your heart sinks slightly looking at the unanswered apology texts he sent, urging you to talk to him - but you swallow down the guilt and tap the call button, listening to the rings until you get his voicemail. You frown, furrowing your brow. Maybe he’s busy? 

You elect to draft him a text message instead, hoping he’ll catch you later tonight. Hey, you type, pausing to ponder your next words. I’m sorry for how I left things and for not replying, just needed some time to think. Can you give me a call sometime? 

After hitting send, you feel an urge to launch your phone across the room, but you fight it in hopes that he’ll reply right after, that he just missed your call by accident. But you don’t hear back from him that night. Or the next morning. You sent him another text around noon (Hope everything’s okay. We don’t have to talk, just at least let me know you’re alright) - but by the time evening rolls around, you’re wound tight and ready to explode. None of your messages look like they’ve even been delivered. 

Did he fucking block you? 

“Hey!” Cam calls out when you trudge into the house for dinner. “What’s up? You look like shit.” 

You heave out a sigh and situate yourself on a barstool at the kitchen island, burying your face in your hands. “I feel like shit.” 

They look up from where they’re chopping tomatoes and nod slightly in agreement. “Sounds about right. Rough day at work?” 

You groan. “No. I sort of... blew up at Bradley earlier this week. I just wanted to call him to apologize but I think he’s blocked me or something.” 

“Oh honey, I don’t think... he’d do that,” Cam attempts to reassure, setting a kitchen knife down and leveling you with an unreadable expression. 

“Why not? I was a complete bitch to him, just went off on him because of one thing he said and I’d really like to apologize, but he’s making that a little difficult. I don’t even think any of my messages sent to him because none of them will deliver-” 

“Bradley left,” Cam interrupts, their face morphing into one of deep sympathy. Your stomach drops, waiting for their next words, assuming the worst. “Nat told me they were going off for some mission. They’ll probably be back next week though-” 

And your heart drops into your stomach, forming a pit. And you hear a faint buzzing in your ears - maybe that’s Cam saying your name? - but nothing seems to really register with you except for the fact that Bradley’s gone, and he never said goodbye and he didn’t even tell you and everyone kept saying this mission was life or death. If maybe you’d listened to him earlier when he’d called, maybe you could have instead said something encouraging, something inspiring, something to give him hope, something to make him want to come back for you. Not blown up at him for something you misconstrued as a taunting reminder of your failures. 

You’re not sure if you’ll ever get the chance to share your grad school news with him, or apologize, or make him a matcha monstrosity, or hear him call you Buttercup with his mustache cocking upwards in that endearing half smile he always sends you. 

What truly strikes a feeling of emptiness in you is the heavy, constant worry that you should be holding onto something - at first you think you’re missing your keys or your phone or your purse, but it dawns upon you later that all you want to feel is the comforting weight of his hand in yours. 

-- 

You try your best to go about your regular schedule with a hazy mind - coffee shop in the morning, grad research and emails in the afternoon, a small solitude walk down by the beach after dinner with your friends. Over the weekend, you consider numbing the pain of not knowing with a couple (or three, or six) drinks down at the Hard Deck, but Bradley’s absence at the piano would surely be noticed no matter how much liquor you down. And you’re not sure if excessive alcohol and your anxiety are the best match at this moment. 

The next Wednesday evening’s shenanigans consist of rosé and Notting Hill playing on the tv while you comb through Reddit and other forums for GRE overviews and timetables. You’re interrupted suddenly by a flurry of knocks at your door. Figuring Cam forgot their house key and didn’t want to bother texting, you heave yourself off the couch to open the door, not at all expecting to see Bradley on the other side of it. You freeze. 

“Hi,” he breathes out. He’s wearing his signature blue jeans and a white tank with an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt - the same outfit from when you first met almost a month ago (maybe a different shirt print, they all look the same to you). This time, you take the time to appreciate how fucking good he looks, how he fully manages to take your breath away, how you kind of want to reach out and poke his abs to make sure he’s real- 

“Cam told me they told you about... Well, you know. We got in two nights ago. I uh.. Would’ve come earlier, but I think I crashed from all the adrenaline and shit. I think I ended up sleeping for about fourteen hours-”

This sends you into motion. You leave him on your front porch mid-sentence and dash a couple steps back into the guest house to grab a throw pillow from the indoor bench in the foyer (bless Cher for her furnishing skills, sponsored by HGTV). 

With your plush weapon in hand, you stomp back over to him, where he looks as confused as ever before you start raining blows onto him with it. “Are - you - fucking - KIDDING - me?!” you grit out, punctuating each word with a hit from the pillow. Bradley’s holding up his hands to shield his body, and if he weren’t so caught off guard he probably would’ve had the bright idea to wrestle the offending object away from you. Maybe he also felt like he deserved it. “You go hop off on a mission without telling me! Without a heads up! And you come HERE,” - three hits in succession - “What the fuck, Bradley!” 

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry!” Bradley cries out, finally reaching a hand to tear it away from you, holding it behind him just out of your reach. He finally looks up to meet your angry gaze and his confusion softens, melts into compassion and warms you up from the inside out. 

Jesus Christ, you’re crying. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, slowly lowering his hand grasping the pillow. “I just... I didn’t want to make you worry. And I thought you were angry with me and I didn’t want to make things worse-” 

“Right,” you whisper, closing your eyes and trying your hardest to find your breathing exercises to help regulate your rapidly increasing heart rate.

“I didn’t want to make you feel obligated,” he says quietly. “Believe me, I kept trying to remind myself of that, but as soon as I was up in the air-” 

“Oh my god,” you groan and squeezing your eyes shut, remembering the gravity of the situation - life or death mission echoes through your head on repeat and you feel all the anxiety you had shoved down start bubbling up, all your muscles clenching-

“I’m here right now sweetheart,” he reaches out to grasp your hands - which you’d started unconsciously nervously wringing and squeezing together like a kitchen sponge - and he takes a step closer towards you. His right thumb is rubbing gentle circles over your pulse point, and it’s somehow doing a much better job at calming you down than those stupid exercises you got from the internet. You breathe him in - all woodsy and musky mixed with a hint of sunscreen and vanilla. “Is this okay?” he asks with bated breath. 

You nod in an answer and at last, you open your eyes, finally agreeing with what your eyes were showing you, finally accepting the reality that he was standing there safe and sound in front of you, yet you’re still unable to find any words; even if you could, you’re not sure you possessed the energy to be able to sound them out. 

“Can we go inside? We can sit down for this, maybe get you some water.”

Again, you nod, vocal chords still frozen. Bradley hums soothingly in acknowledgement, takes a soft hold of one of your wrists and leads you back into the house, makes sure to close and lock the door behind you. With his tangible presence and the grip of his fingers, you can feel your mind feel less fuzzy, more alert, more aware of Bradley gently pulling you towards the kitchen. 

“Where do you keep your cups?” he asks finally, opening up a cupboard at random and wrinkling his forehead upon seeing an air fryer instead. 

“I can make us some tea, I think,” you say, stepping around him to grab a couple kitschy cat mugs from the cupboard next to them. “Think some chamomile might do me some good.” He nods, moving to the side to let you take charge. You flip the electric kettle on and pull out tea bags and honey while the water heats up. 

“I got your texts. Didn’t have access to our phones on the ship but uh... I’m sorry to have worried you,” he says sheepishly, leaning against the kitchen island with his hands in his pockets and you hum, not wanting to let on to the fact of how terrified you were (as if he didn’t already know, as if he didn’t see you completely freeze up and almost lose your mind at the actual sight of him). 

The kettle clicks, and you reach over to pour the hot water into the mugs to steep the tea. “I just...” you start, and fiddle with the mugs, pushing one with a cartoon cat drinking coffee printed on it towards him along with the bear-shaped bottle. Bradley accepts with a small “thanks,” and then goes on to squeeze an egregious amount of honey into the mug, clinking the metal spoon loudly against the ceramic as he stirred. You raise an eyebrow, then shake off the judgment - a topic for later. (Seriously. That had to be, like, four tablespoons. Is he okay?).  

“I wanted to apologize,” you say to him, and his eyes dart up to meet your determined gaze. “I think I - rather unfairly - lost my temper with you. I think that conversation just reminded me that I’m still sort of stuck in this limbo with my career, with my life being completely on hold. And I wrongly assumed that you were trying to let me down easy, that you had your own misgivings about me making my way out of here. I’m sorry.”

Bradley nods slowly with a furrowed brow, bringing his mug up to blow lightly over the surface of his drink before taking a tiny sip. “I think... I replayed our conversation in my head the entire night and I saw where you might have gotten that idea- I mean, first things first, I was just worried about the mission. And getting too close to you and leaving you here if things went south. I just didn’t want my whole shit with Maverick and the mission to get in the way of you finding yourself, because you’re just treading water, right?” 

You’re silent for a minute, grasping your mug just a little bit tighter and choosing your next few words carefully. “That was the plan. But I think I’ve had... an epiphany, of sorts...” he nods, encouraging you to continue. “I was thinking about going back to school. I think… I love engineering, but I hated industry. So I thought maybe I could go back for my masters, PhD after, maybe become a professor. Or do research. I thought Caltech or Stanford would be amazing, since I’m starting to like the west coast now. And I’ve already reached out to some colleagues and professors who think it’s a good idea.” 

A week ago, it felt silly to even say out loud. But here and now, with Bradley nodding encouragingly and with the hint of a smile on lips, you wonder why you always berate yourself for wanting to be open about your dreams. 

“That sounds perfect for you, sweetheart. Are you… are you gonna go for it?”

You take a sip, ignoring the butterflies taking flight at the term of endearment. “I think so. I just... I don't know if I’m good enough for it. Plus, I’m not sure if being back in that environment would be good for me, especially being so much older going in. There’s a lot of shit I have to get through which is why...” you pause, wondering if you’re ready to admit this to him. “I’m looking at therapy. Cam had some suggestions for some San Diego specialists and I made some calls yesterday, but I’m trying to figure out where I might end up long term first.” 

He nods slowly, puts his mug down, ponders the news you’ve just broken. At long last, he looks up at you. “I think that’s really great for you. And it means a lot to me that you felt comfortable enough to share that.” 

You look down bashfully into your mug, trying to lose yourself in the steam trails rising up from the water. “You’re the first person I wanted to tell,” you admit and immediately cringe at how lame it must sound, how clingy you must seem for wanting to divulge all your future plans to him. 

“That means the world to me,” he says softly, and you look up to see his serious, thoughtful expression. “I uh… I think that’s something I’m looking into now too. Therapy. I mean. I did some grief counseling when my mom passed away - wasn’t too big a fan of group sessions, never really liked talking in front of so many people about my crap. But the individual talks helped, just never really stuck with it when things got busy. And I figured I was okay until... this assignment, I guess. All the shit with Maverick - which, we’re okay now. But I think I have some doors I want to close. So... same boat, huh?” 

You hum in acknowledgement, taking a few steps forward to lean against the countertop across from him. 

“You don’t have to go into the details,” you say softly, swirling the tiny amount of tea remaining in your mug. “But... are you okay right now? After getting back?” 

Bradley shrugs his shoulders. “Still feels like a dream. Sometimes I close my eyes and I find myself in the backseat of that F-14 trying to figure out the radio - but, again, I’ll be unpacking that in a more professional setting soon,” he sends you a crooked smile. “But ah... I feel terrible about not telling you-”

“Oh, that’s fine! I understand-” you interrupt, putting your mug down and waving him off, but he cuts you off again with further rambling, waving his arms around as he speaks. 

“No, really, I do! I should’ve told you, and the moment we were on the home stretch and flying back I was thinking about what the hell I was going to say to you - oh, and I didn’t even mention that then morning of Jake said he patched things up with his girl and I was fucking pissed that Jake of all people managed to say goodbye but I was too much of a coward to do the same - and I’m just so sorry, sweetheart-” 

You surge forward to cut him off, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a bruising, crushing kiss. Because fuck it if you’re not going to show him how much you don’t care that he didn’t say goodbye, that he didn’t even send a text because he’s here right now and it feels like everything’s all right.  

Bradley kisses back with fervor, reaching around to press his hands on your lower back and pulling you into him, and you can’t get closer, can’t get enough of him, almost want to have your hands handcuffed around his neck so that you never have to let go. His lips are chapped but warm and they leave yours tingling with every brush together and he smells so fucking good, just as you remember from your hiking day and he tastes so fucking sweet because of all the honey he poured into his tea before (you really have to check with him later to see what kind of sweet tooth you’re signing up for). 

Your hands travel upwards to tangle into his hair, tugging slightly and making him gasp into your mouth. He pulls away slightly to rest his forehead against yours - “Fuck,” he groans out your name - your real name - and you think you might explode because your name has never sounded so beautiful rolling off someone else’s tongue, and because the last time he said it he was breaking your heart and now here he is, holding you together, supporting your whole body now that you’ve gone completely weak kneed. 

It’s certainly been a long time since you’d been kissed this fucking good, so you linger in the moment just a little bit longer, breathe in his cologne one last time. With your lips still tingling and your hands still tangled in his hair, you open your eyes to see his blissed out expression. His eyes are still shut, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath and he’s still fully holding you up - if he lets go, you’re sure to collapse in on yourself. 

“Sorry,” you whisper, feeling a little bashful at having attacked him like that, but Bradley squeezes you tightly and presses his forehead into you. 

“Don’t be, I’ve been... I’ve thought about that for a long time,” he smiles, and you huff out a laugh.

“Sure.” 

“No, seriously! Even in college I was thinking about it-” 

“What?” you interrupt, pulling away to look at him, aghast. “In college? You had a thing for me then?” 

Bradley’s eyebrows raise so high you’re surprised they don’t shoot off his face. “Y-you’re kidding, right? I told you I was trying to impress you back then-” 

“What, that’s supposed to mean you were into me?” 

“Yeah!” he defends, pulling away further to look you straight in the eye. “I was totally into you! Why do you think I asked you to Formal?” 

“To be an ass!” you tell him like it’s the most obvious answer in the world - and it is, because all you remember about that day was him coming up to you with a bouquet of buttercups and delivering what sounded like the most rehearsed speech you’d ever heard. It wasn’t like he’d ever indicated any interest in you before, so why would he even bother asking you? 

Bradley looks annoyed now, if his mustache is any indication. “Buttercup, I... I don’t know what else I can say but Jesus Christ - I was into you. You just had so much integrity and dedication and you were so smart and so fucking pretty. I didn’t know how to talk to you then, and even after fifteen years, when I saw you in the bar and at the coffee shop I still managed to make a fool out of myself in front of the brightest fucking girl I’ve ever known-” 

You cut him off again, unable to handle being apart from him and not being able to feel him and breathe him in and it’s cliche and way too fast but you’re so fucking sick of being stuck in your head all the time and second guessing every move you make. For once, you just want to be a girl standing in front of a boy and kissing the ever loving bejesus out of him because that’s all your mind is telling you. 

Again, Bradley matches your intensity, pressing his mouth to you and this time lightly tracing your bottom lip with his tongue - the contrast between his soft mouth and the sharp bristles of his mustache and the feeling of his hot skin against yours makes wetness pool into your underwear, sends tingles throughout your body. You don’t think you’ve felt this crazy, this horny for a guy in fucking years. 

Bradley’s gripping your hips tightly, and suddenly he’s steering you backwards towards the kitchen island, and when your back hits the edge of the countertop you ignore the pain and reach a hand back to steady yourself on the smooth surface, trying to maneuver hopping up on the granite without letting your slips disconnect from Bradley’s. You think you might explode if you ever stop kissing Bradley. 

He pulls away slightly (kaboom, you mourn sadly), a smirk playing across his features. “May I?” he asks, sliding his hands down to the back of your legs, right below where your thighs meet the curve of your ass, and you nod quickly. 

You’re surprised at how empty your head is, how easy it is for you to go with the flow and let Bradley give you the makeout session of your life. But you’re even more surprised at how easily he’s able to lift you onto the countertop, then subsequently situate himself between your knees, grab your face in his hands, and pull you in for another kiss. 

Holy fucking shit if you don’t get this man’s clothes off him right now you’re going to explode. Again. 

So you mindlessly let your hands trail to the collar of his Hawaiian shirt, gently nudging it off his shoulders, now letting your lips trail kisses down his jawline to his neck. Bradley starts to remove the button-down, then pauses. You freeze. 

“You sure about this, honey?” he asks you, and you look up at him with a terrified expression, wondering if you’ve gone too far, hoping you can try to dig yourself out of this- but it’s like Bradley can see the fear strike in your eyes and he quickly backtracks. “I mean, do you want to do this?

“I don’t... I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more,” you confess in a whisper, nervously toying with the fabric of his shirt before pulling your fingers away. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking-” 

Bradley shakes his head, placing a hand on your chin and tilting it upwards. “Let me rephrase: do you want me to fuck you?” he asks, and it’s so brazen and open and you’ve never heard someone ask you this openly for your consent, haven’t felt this comfortable with someone in so long, and without another thought you start nodding your head. “Use your words, sweetheart. Can I? I mean - do you?” 

You gulp, closing your eyes and nodding again. “Yeah,” you breathe out, and the smile on Bradley’s face makes everything go away, makes your anxieties disappear. Suddenly he’s shedding his button-down and draping it over the barstool next to you, then shucking off his white undershirt and holy fucking shit he’s jacked, he’s tanned and muscled and you remember seeing this before, but the close up view is so much better than the memory from volleyball that you’ve replayed in your mind over and over - 

“All good, Buttercup?” he’s smirking, leaning in to peck your lips and you roll your eyes and move to take off your old UVA t-shirt. 

“If you call me Buttercup, I’m calling you Rooster,” you threaten between kisses, now fighting to take off your bra.

He laughs. “Sweetheart, I won’t complain if you call me Rooster in bed,” he reaches both hands around to bat your hands away and gently unhooks the stuck clasp. His hands, as warm as his gaze, slowly move down your body to return to your waist as you slide the straps off. Bradley’s eyes darken at your chest, his fingers dig into your skin. “Goddamn, Buttercup.” 

“Shut up,” you say bashfully, glancing down at his beautifully sculpted chest, the deep lines of his abs, and the silver chain carrying his dog tags glinting in the kitchen light. You feel the nervousness settle in, feel incredibly shy being this exposed in front of him, being this naked in front of another person after a long time. 

“It’s, uh...” you start, folding your arms over your chest. Your eyes dart around; you don’t want to look at him, don’t want him to see the scared glint in your eye, don’t want him to sense the nervousness boiling inside of you. You’re all up in your head again, thinking so much and suddenly he brings you back down again, just as easily as he always has. 

“Hey,” he taps your hip with one finger and that grounds you a tad. Bradley’s voice is gravity, pulling you down from where your anxiety sent you, unpinching your tensed nerves one by one. “Tell me, honey.” 

“I just... haven’t done this in a while,” you confess and you can barely hear yourself say it, the shame and anxiety buzzing loudly in your ears and drowning out everything. But Bradley doesn’t react with disgust or discomfort like your brain is preemptively warning you he will - instead, he looks up to meet your gaze with a soft, yet determined look. 

He reaches up to softly brush your cheek, and you close your eyes to lean into his touch. “Sweetheart,” he tells you. “We don’t have to go any further. But let me take care of you. Get you out of your head for a bit,” his words shake you to your core and you feel another gush of wetness at the realization that he is wholly and entirely here for you. 

You nod again, turning your head to press a soft kiss to his palm, and Bradley smiles at your gesture. “I want you to fuck me,” you admit, and you swear you see his eyes darken, pupils enlarging as he lets out a low groan. 

“As you wish, Buttercup,” he replies and it sounds familiar, it sounds like straight from William Goldman’s novel and the Cary Elwes film and you resolve to ask him if that’s why he calls you that. “I think I’d much rather fuck you into your mattress, though,” he murmurs lowly, and you clench down on nothing, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath to steady yourself. 

“Oh,” you hear yourself say, like you’re across the room - but you’re not. You’re with Bradley, and now he’s gently helping you hop off the island and kissing you fervently, letting you pull him towards your bedroom. 

“Shorts,” he orders softly into your mouth and your brain short-circuits, wondering why the hell he’s bringing up the most useless numerical data type in programming until you realize he’s talking about your bottoms, about taking them off and exposing yourself further in front of him. 

“O-okay,” you whisper and pull away slowly, hooking your fingers into the sides of your athletic shorts and pulling them down to pool on the floor, and then your step out of them wondering if there was a sexier way you could’ve gone about that. But Bradley’s eyes are locked onto your face and he’s smiling like he’s got everything he could ever want right in front of him and he’s steering you backwards to your bed. He then gently nudges you down to lay down on the mattress, following suit and kneeling down on the bed and hovering over you as he presses hard kisses down the side of your neck. Another hand reaches up to knead your breast, fingers pinching and rolling your nipple and you exhale shakily. 

And your brain short circuits again when you feel his hardness pressing up against your cunt; the sizable bulge in his pants make you let out an involuntary moan. Bradley’s teeth come down on your neck and you can feel his mustache pressing against your neck as he smiles. 

“Sweetheart, let me eat you out?” he asks. You freeze, thinking about whether you had ever been with a man who offered to eat you out before anything else, who wanted to make you cum first instead of jumping into jackrabbiting for a miserable five minutes and passing out right after. Bradley’s not like them. Not in the slightest. “Y-yeah. You can.” 

He hums, hooks his index fingers into your underwear and attempts to slide them off after you lift your hips in an effort to help. “I mean, you really don’t have to, Bradley,” you say, feeling embarrassed once the cold air hits your core and you’re made aware of how your slick must look smeared across your folds and leaking down your thighs. 

But in true Bradley fashion, he just raises an eyebrow and shakes his head, then trails a series of kisses down your stomach and presses his hands into your thighs. “I’d never turn down the chance to make you feel good. Relax, pretty girl,” he replies. And as you lock eyes with him between your legs, he hesitates for a moment - waits for a sign that you’re okay with this, that you want him to consume you. 

Finally, you nod, and Bradley wastes no time diving in. He leans forward - the warmth of his breath on your wetness makes you shiver, and the laugh he huffs out sends another jolt up your spine. Impatiently, you raise your head to look at him and see what the hell’s got him so distracted, but suddenly he’s pressing his broad tongue against your folds and tracing a long line up towards your bundle of nerves and your head slams down against the mattress, a squeak leaving your lips. His mustache rubs hard against your skin, but the prickles feel so damn good and a part of you wonders what it’ll look like when he comes up with his facial hair soaked in your release. 

“Taste so good, Buttercup,” he says and instinctively, your legs start to close in on his head but Bradley repositions his hands to the inside of your thighs. He pushes them further apart and keeps them separated long enough for him to lick another strip up your cunt and begin kitten licking your clit eagerly, excitedly, desperately. He alternates between flattening out his tongue and fashioning it into a point, and each motion sends a new wave of pleasure throughout your body, setting fire to your nerves and making you clench down on nothing. 

Then, as if he can sense the emptiness, he removes his hand from its position on your left thigh. You realize just where he plans to settle it when you feel his palm on your stomach, thumb joining his tongue near your clit, and he starts circling it slightly while he shifts his tongue to move down to your opening. He’s slurping, it’s messy and loud and the brush of his mustache is adding an extra layer of pleasure. You're almost embarrassed at how wet this has made you but it doesn't matter because Bradley is diving in, pressing his tongue into you and coordinating the movements with his fingers.

“Bradley, fuck, it’s too much,” you tell him and he shakes his head, the movement making you clench. 

“You can take it,” he replies, and you believe him as he continues his ministrations, continues fucking you with his tongue. “You sound so fucking pretty, honey,” he adds, and you suddenly realize that in addition to the slick sounds echoing out through the room, you’re whimpering, moaning, cursing out Bradley’s name and trying to make sense of what the hell is going on, how you're able to feel this much pleasure, how a man is this willing to make you lose your mind like this. And Bradley’s shaking his head, letting his tongue hit spots inside of you that you never knew existed and your back is arching off the bed, head pressing so hard into the mattress it hurts. 

“Sweetheart, this feel good?” you vaguely hear him say, vaguely feel the vibrations of his words shake your core. 

“Mmhmm,” you manage out, punctuating it with a gasp as he moves his fingers down to prod at your entrance slowly and slide through your folds easily. And it suddenly becomes too much, too good, too wonderful and you know it’s entirely because you haven’t been with someone (besides your vibrator) that’s this attuned to all your spots. With a cry, you feel the white-hot tell-tale sign of your high coming and you arch your back again, moving your hand down to grab Bradley’s head and push it into your core, almost grinding your cunt against his mouth and nose and fingers. He doesn’t cease his motions, doesn’t stop, just moans again into you and lets you ride out the wave. He reaches out his other hand to grasp your free hand where it’s fisting the bed sheets and squeezing comfortingly. 

And suddenly, it’s quiet. You’re catching your breath. You’re holding his hand and he’s removed his face from your pussy, looking up at you carefully, gauging your response.

And once the nervous thoughts start rolling in your head, you banish the anxious ones and focus on telling him exactly what you want him to do. “Pants off, Bradshaw. I need you inside me,” 

Bradley laughs, eye crinkles making their signature guest appearance and making you feel giddy. “Yes ma’am,” he chuckles and he stands up, then starts undoing his belt buckle and removing his pants and boxes in one fell swoop. He steps out of them just as you did with your shorts (huh, maybe you can look sexy doing it that way). 

When you catch sight of his cock, your eyes widen, and you’re not sure if you’ll even be able to handle it. But he just smirks at your expression, takes note of your eyes on his cock, and settles down at your headboard to wait patiently for you to join him. 

“Take your time, Buttercup,” he says, eyes full of mischief. “Or I’ll take care of it myself.” 

You level a glare at him, finally mustering up the energy to sit up and crawl over to him. "I, uh... I have an IUD. And I'm clean. But I should have condoms in-," you start but Bradley cuts you off.

"Nah, I mean... I'm clean. Tested last month. I'm okay without if you are?" he asks and you nod, kissing him passionately and letting his tongue slip into your mouth as you position yourself over him.

You settle a knee on either side of his thighs and take his cock in your hand, pumping it briefly. A honey-like moan sounds out from Bradley and it’s all the encouragement you need before you align his cock with your entrance and slowly sink down on it. The two of you moan in unison - and the stretch isn’t painful, but there’s no way you can take it all at once without something hurting, so you take your time, lowering down slowly inch by inch until you’re fully seated on top of him, feeling full and warm all over. 

Bradley has his eyes locked on you, eyes lidded as he tries to control his breathing. You look up at him, sending him a sly smile before reaching up to grab his shoulders and rooting your knees into the mattress before rising up slightly and sitting back down on him. The friction is mind-blowing, but the sound that Bradley makes is even more incredible. 

“Holy fuck,” he gasps out, moving his grip to your hips and squeezing tightly. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he breathes as you start to bounce up and down on him, reveling in the feeling. 

“Your cock feels so good,” you tell him, swinging your hair out of your face and increasing your pace just a little bit, angling your hips more so that his tip brushes just right against your most sensitive spots. 

“It’s yours, sweetheart,” he groans, firmly grasping the soft skin on your hips and reaching his thumb to stroke your clit in circles. The contrast between his bruising grip on you with one hand and the gentle touch of his thumb sets every cell in your body on fire. “You’re s-such a fucking tea... tease,” Bradley gasps as you bounce on his lap, rising off his cock slowly and slamming your cunt back down on him with a swirl of your hips.

“Bradley, if you can’t handle it,” you lean down to murmur in his ear, adding a counterclockwise swirl for good measure. “Maybe you should take charge.” 

“Yeah?” he asks, gaze trained on you, hands moving up to the bottom of your ribcage. He’s got a mischievous glint in his eye mixed with pure awe - like you’re a goddess claiming her throne. 

You nod into him. “Yeah. Might be for the best, my legs are starting to- Oh!” Bradley quickly pulls you into his chest, rolling over and twisting so that you’re on your back and he’s on his knees between your legs, cock still buried deep inside you. He first hikes your legs up so that they wrap higher around his waist, then he snakes his left hand underneath your back to grip you tightly. He leans down to deliver a bruising kiss, pumping his cock in and out of you languidly. He’s all around you and inside of you and the only thing keeping you from overheating, from completely combusting 

“Such a pretty girl,” he grunts out against your lips, hips undulating slightly faster - forget treading water, you’re just riding the fucking waves as they come - “My girl, my pretty little- Jesus Christ.”

You let out a long, breathy moan as Rooster tightens his grip on you and starts mercilessly pounding into you. The slap of your skin together echoes throughout the room - and you can feel just how wet and sticky and warm it is down where he’s driving his cock into your soaking cunt and it’s too good, too fucking good it’s all him and you and he’s suddenly burying his face into your neck, his mustache prickling your damp skin and sending tingles throughout your body, making you clench down on him- 

“Fuck,” he grunts out, squeezing his eyes shut. “Is this good for you sweetheart?”

If you could, you’d roll your eyes. Is this good? he asks like he’s not fucking you so hard you’ve forgotten your own name. “Oh, I think it’s okay,” you manage to sarcastically bite out, 

“Such a brat,” he huffs out, slowing down his thrusts slightly to give you a look. His mustache even manages to look unimpressed, and you lazily smile back, taking in all the pleasure until he pulls your nipple teasingly. 

“What, you gonna punish me? Teach me a lesson?” you manage to choke out half-jokingly, and you swear you feel his cock twitch inside of you as his eyes painfully scrunch closed. 

“Fuck,” he grunts out. “No. Next time. If you want.” And you’re lost in the meaning behind that, in the possibility of more, the idea of being this entwined with him for the rest of your life until suddenly, Bradley leans back and unwraps your legs from around him. Breathing laboriously as he tries to keep the same pace, he hooks both over his shoulders and presses in, folding you nearly in half in the process. He balances his weight onto one hand that’s fisting the sheets next to your hips and sneaks the other hand down to circle your bundle of nerves. 

“Ohmigod,” you whimper, his cock now grazing your g-spot on every thrust, the touch of his hand on your clit setting you aflame. The sound of skin on skin reverberates through your ears and it’s so fucking hot and you don’t remember your own name- 

“I’ve got you, honey,” he reassures, not slowing down his thrust or the circles on your clit. “Just let go.”

“I-I’m yours,” you babble, gripping his back tightly, almost digging your nails in. You feel so full and you can’t get enough of him, can’t imagine being without him, can’t imagine letting go because this is the most whole you’ve ever felt in a long time - “I’m yours, Bradley. Fuck.” 

With one last brush of his finger on your clit, one last push inside of you, you peak and cry out his name again. It’s instantaneous, the wave of pleasure that washes over you as you cum and you don’t remember a time when you or anyone else was able to make you feel this level of toe curling, eye rolling, body tingling sensation of a full-blown orgasm. The only thing grounding you now is the weight of Bradley’s body on you, his dick inside of you, the sudden warm, familiar feeling of his hand in yours as you gasp out his name over and over again. 

“Fuck, you’re everything,” you breathe out, and Bradley groans loudly into your ear. 

"Where do you want me to cum?" he chokes out and you move your hand from his shoulders down to the trough of his lower back, clutching him tightly.

"Inside. Please, give it to me Bradley," you beg and with another moan of your name, he climaxes, burying his face into your neck and pushing deep inside you. You feel him come undone, his warmth shooting into you in hot spurts, heating you up even more than you thought you could feel. He shifts his hips in and out as he rides out his orgasm, pressing small kisses to your neck the whole time. You smile lazily at the feeling of his mustache hairs brushing the underside of your jaw, remembering how it felt between your legs. 

As you catch your breath, all the events just overwhelm you, making goosebumps appear on your arms, making you feel cold. “Can you...” you trail off, suddenly embarrassed to ask the question, but Bradley’s been pretty well attuned to your nervousness tonight and he nuzzles you gently to continue. “Can you just... kiss me?” you ask and it feels juvenile, almost lame to ask, but Bradley already placed his fingers under your chin and tilted your head upwards to press a slow, loving kiss to your lips that warms you up all over again, brings you more comfort than you could’ve asked for. 

And later, after he’s taken the liberty of gently cleaning you up with a warm washcloth from your bathroom and you pulled on fresh pair of underwear you’d managed to grab on wobbly legs (Bradley seemed all too pleased to watch you stumble around your bedroom like Bambi) - you’re tangled up together underneath your sheets with him laying on his back, arms around you and your head resting on his chest. 

And the subtle beat of his heart is the most grounding sound, a metronome you wouldn’t mind falling asleep to every night. 

A thought strikes you, something he said earlier in the night coming back to you. “Hey, you said something about Jake and his girl before?” 

“Oh,” he taps out a pattern on your bare back. “They patched things up.” You think back to when you last saw them - remembering a heated conversation at the Hard Deck ending with her looking absolutely broken, him looking barely unsettled. 

“Didn’t he break it off with her at the bar two weeks ago?” 

“She dumped him,” he corrects with a half smile. “And he kept telling us it was nothing, but then they were friends and then they weren’t and it’s a whole mess - they got it all worked out the night before we left. And I realized when we got back that it would’ve been really embarrassing if Jake, of all the jackass pilots I know, was able to patch things up with his girl but I couldn’t with mine.” 

You nod slowly, tracing patterns on his chest thoughtfully. “I’m your girl?” you ask softly with a smile, and Bradley looks down at you hesitantly. 

“Do you want to be?” he asks in earnest, and you think about it for a moment. 

“Is this what you call patching up?” you gesture towards your naked bodies twisted in the bedsheets and he shrugs. And you’re joking, really - but it’s not like everything between the two of you gets resolved with mind blowing sex and real orgasms. 

He snorts. “You’re not mad at me anymore, right?” he states matter-of-factly and you roll your eyes, resting your head back on his shoulder. “No,” he continues. “I know you’ve got a lot to deal with - grad school and GREs, and therapy. And I’m not sure where I’m headed next, but... I’ve put in a request to stay on North Island for some time. So I can be here. If you stay on the west coast.” 

You feel the hope in your chest bubble up again, feel so incredibly touched that he decided to make that career choice (didn’t he say he might get moved to Panama? Myanmar? Manama - that sounds right). But what really does your heart in are his next words - “You can stay here and be a barista for the rest of your life sweetheart - I mean, if you did, I’d love if you could use some kinda employee discount for me, shit’s getting expensive. Or you can study for your GREs and go to grad school wherever you want or go back to working in industry - or honestly, if you wanted to go up to LA and start taking mime classes, I don’t fucking know - I’m here for the long haul. You’re the most hard-working person I know. And I’m behind you whatever you choose to do. So like... I’d love it if you’d take a chance on me, Buttercup.” 

You feel tears rolling down your cheeks now, and you move to straddle Bradley and bury your face into his neck. His arms wrap around your back and he holds you as you clutch his chest. It’s overwhelming how glorious this man is. “I don’t fucking deserve you,” you choke out, not sure if he can make sense of your garbled words but you feel him shake his head in response. “Really. I’m sorry I kept holding a grudge and didn’t see it before but if you’re willing-” 

“I’m willing,” he says, rubbing your back and pressing a firm kiss to your temple.

“Shut up,” you smack his chest lightly. “If you’re willing, I’d like to see where this can go. And make it up to you.” 

“... So you mean you’ll be my girl?” he asks, and you choke out a laugh through a watery smile, looking up to see the most giddy smile on his face. It warms you up for a third time tonight, makes it feel like the sun has burst through your window and is bathing the two of you in its light. 

You press a kiss to his lips, smiling all the way. “Yeah. I’m your girl, Bradshaw.” 

simultaneously so happy and sad this series is (mostly) over! I'm working on a lil snippet of bradley's pov in which we hear about what he lamented to phoenix after their first fight at the coffee shop.... and in jordan's wonderful words, it'll really highlight the 'this is me trying - nothing new' ennui of this series! thanks to everyone who commented and reblogged!

For anyone who missed it, Jake’s girl is Mojito from Bad Habit by seasonsbloom - they’re all in the SCU (Soy (Sol + May) Cinematic Universe). This quite possibly the greatest crossover since That’s So Suite Life of Hannah Montana (eat shit, marvel) (i’m half kidding i love u bucky barnes) 

[neengareadynaaready]

Salaar Part 1 (FULL SPOILER-Y REVIEW)

I finally saw Salaar on Netflix, and as promised, I am going insane over the guys Varadeva.

MUSIC

Music is by Ravi Basrur, same guy who did the scoring of KGF. Let me start by saying that I absolutely loved the songs of KGF. They were high-energy songs perfect for getting yourself hyped up for something. I went into watching Salaar expecting the same thing, but I was proven wrong.

The songs in Salaar are actually more varied. The children in the school singing, "Prathi Gaadhalo" gave me goosebumps. I applaud the fact that Ravi Basrur has such range and versatility in the music he composes and arranges but you can still see his signature in his creations.

KGF & SALAAR?

Speaking of signatures... The visuals are beautiful. Obviously, Prashanth Neel's style is coming through in KGF and now Salaar. Also, there was something in the way the story is told to Shruti Haasan's character, just like how Rocky's story is narrated in KGF.

90% (or more) of mass action films have a flashback portion where the hero's backstory is revealed. In most cases, it's to clarify the hero's motivation or to show us his heroism/what he suffered/his traumas, etc.

In Salaar and KGF, the flashbacks are the entire story. In KGF, it's through an interview for things that happened in the past. In Salaar, the present and the past are more connected. It reminded me of Baahubali Part 1 where the present-day events make up the first half before we then dive into the entire backstory of Amarendra Baahubali. Mahendra's/Shiva's story in the present only really starts in the 2nd movie.

So this is where my ramblings lead to: we all know SS Rajamouli is thinking on a bigger scale. He's thinking epics. With KGF and Salaar, it feels like Prashanth Neel is gearing up for that, too. A lot of the people who dismissed KGF said it was because it was style over substance, which I'm fine with, to be honest, because what PN was trying to do in that movie was obvious, from the storyline to the music especially. He was trying to create a legend, the Legend of Rocky Bhai. Even if the story is not that unique and/or cringe, the fact is Rocky Bhai will now go down in history as one of the most unforgettable mass action characters of Indian cinema.

Here, in Salaar, we get a new world. It is in Khansaar where our epic unfolds.... (At least that was the vibe I was getting while watching.) I mean, Prithviraj said Salaar had Game of Thrones vibes. I'm a sucker for court politics in an interesting new world, so I was hooked. Also, that revelation of Deva being the rightful heir to the throne? C'mon, it's obvious, but it's a classic for a reason. It's such good angst and how Varadha and Deva navigate this revelation when it's revealed to everyone in Part 2 is gonna be amazing.

VARADHA and DEVA

In general, I think most of the characters are very interesting. Not gonna lie, I lost track of some of them midway through the movie. I was consumed by Varadeva every time they were both on screen.

Look, I kinda wished Ranga was still alive so there's that one character that has it out for Varadha and Deva would have to come to his rescue again in Part 2. Anyway, he was an interesting character because he spiraled so fast, and he was always clinging to Rudra's arm and going "I have never asked you for anything since childhood. I want Varadha." and then he was bawling his eyes out, like what a certifiably insane character.

Prabhas and Prithviraj's interactions were really very interesting and fun. I wish we had more. They bantered while fighting, and you can feel they're the type to make fun of each other and have fun. But you can also see how much they truly care for each other that time when Naarang was wielding his sword. They're like, "No, kill me, spare him." DUUUUUUDE. I loved that.

And when Varadha made up his mind, Deva was ready to support him. Who knows what's gonna happen in Part 2.

Action is okay. Was very nice to see them fight side by side.

OVERALL

The cast of characters, the story, the premise, the subplots going around... I'm excited for Part 2!

[dragon-chica]

Kent the Siren - Fluff Alphabet Part 1

Fandom: Wednesday

Fluff! Some fluff! been doing a lot of smut lately. This pretty boy definitely needs some more love, how is he so slept on??

I haven't read the few Kent fics I've found yet, which means I'm going into this blindly. Something I usually hate doing, so I hope you guys enjoy my characterization.

Safe – What makes them feel safe and comfortable around you?: Kent's pretty comfortable in any setting, but if he does feel a little iffy or nervous (like when the teacher's handing out grades) he automatically reaches to hold your hand, just twining his hand with yours and everything is good again.

For the physical aspect of safety, he feels pretty good about himself. He's got some muscle, he likes wrapping his arms around you and using his body to 'protect you from the wind' likes to think he's intimidating.

But his ego did take a hit when he first got netted then knocked out by a severed hand in the same day. But you were there when Divina went back and fished him out of the lake, and made sure to kiss him better.

Dance – Do they like to dance with you? How good of a dancer are they?: He loves to dance. He's pretty good too, and it's all fun and goofy moves. He will practice tiktok and fortnite dances until he has them memorized, killer Moonwalk. He definitely tries to get you to join him, you don't have to be good! Just have fun! and he's so excited that you just might try.

If not though, it's okay to just watch, film him too if you don't mind! Honestly he's used to others making fun of his dancing, other sirens often begging him to stop. But he's good at not taking it to heart and enjoying himself.

He's good at more traditional dances too if you'd like to dance with him. Says it's a Siren thing, he hums along beautifully and will even sing to you while you step on his feet.

Excitement – How do they act when they’re excited? What excites them?: Kent is not a person of subtle gestures, when he's excited it is full-body joy. His face lights up with a bright smile that makes his eyes shine, he will do a little jump and fist pump and loves picking you up and spinning you around, his excitement is infectious!

Anything from beating someone's score, a good grade, or deciding to get pizza. Kent is pretty chill and happy, and also like a golden retriever. If you're excited about something? so is he! he's so happy for you it's made his day! If you have a big accomplishment or win something he will cheer the loudest, unashamed.

[bengiyo]

Theory of Love Rewatch Ep 1 Stray Thoughts

This rewatch is sponsored by @lurkingshan. Shan has the rare honor of being the only straight white person to respect my tastes in the last 15 years and successfully convince me to watch two things that I went on to enjoy immensely. She convinced me to try Coffee Prince when I was willing to engage with kdrama and pushed me over the episode 10 slump. She also convinced me to watch the Pornographer series again, which I found essential. I've given her coupons to use to recommend things to me, and she's chosen to make me reengage with Theory of Love.

I didn't walk away from this show feeling great about it or myself in 2019. I identified with Third a lot, and also hated their entire friend group. I also thought Earth and White went to waste in BL again (I watched Water Boyy the series). So we're going into this on shaky ground. I kindly ask that you not argue with me in my notes about why you love this show.

Let's get started.

Right away I am reminded that I am not immune to Gun Atthaphan mooning over classic romance films that his character has protected way too much into.

Khai choosing to not mess around with folks in his faculty is a pretty good boundary for a player.

So, it's not Khai's fault that Third fell in love with him. Still, I understand the stress and angst of crushing on a straight boy who loves you platonically. Coming out is not easy, especially when you're one of the boys.

Okay, Third pouring a bottle of water over his head to be dramatic is too much. He is unwell.

Gun having second billing on this show is homophobic.

Ep 01: Best Friends

I wonder if Gun wants to produce and direct.

That line about having hundreds of girls if not for Khai feels kinda funny. Like are you gay, sir?

Goddamn this GETSUNOVA song still fucking slaps.

I forgot how this seaweed snack kept the lights on through Bad Buddy.

12,000 baht to see Blackpink? Couldn't be me.

I don't feel bad for Third about these tickets. He said no to getting them, so Khai isn't a dick for getting them from a scalper.

This is extremely tacky of Khai to start shit at someone's screening like this.

They curb stomped Khai for that behavior. You love to see an instant comeuppance.

Okay, but sending Third to reject Milk is clearly his specialty.

I wanted to know what they said about the Toy Story trilogy, especially since Khai did a Vulcan salute.

Third has a Winnie the Pooh, Astro Boy, and Chucky doll in his room. I have questions.

Khai ditching Third on a lie isn't cool and also feels unnecessary since he canceled on Third for a girl earlier. Is it because it was Milk?

Okay, but Khai is also right that he didn't tell Third to throw her shit away.

Ah, Two finds him at the end of the episode to try and keep Third invested.

This show is very different for me in 2023, because now that I'm older I'm doing what I can. I'm not trapped in a spiral frustrated and pining after a guy I struggled to get over. My living situation is also different. There's also so much more BL better suited to my tastes. Me reading Gun a certain way doesn't cover for Third the way it did in 2019, so his bisexual angst about the girls he hasn't scored because of Khai doesn't track as sympathetic this time. I'm also struggling to see what holds Third to Khai. He's just like most dudes I know. Sometimes he's a good bro and recognizes your efforts when you do something he asked for, but they never notice what you do that they didn't ask for.

It'll be interesting continuing this watch, because I've never been an OffGun girlie, and now that I've projected my gay angst into other projects I feel less connected to Third. Now I'm just frustrated for him and also a little irritated.

[wheelcr]

i'm curious if mike/finn in your desired realities got jealous about someone before because you're close with them or for other reasons! can you tell us how he acts and what he says when that happens?

finney doesn't get jealous a lot, he's super chill and laid back and we're not really dating?? aside from all the romantic tension we have to endure during filming certain scenes. so like, he has no particular reason to be possessive over me, especially since he knows i'm a naturally affectionate person ^^

though, there are very rare moments, like that one time i gave caleb a little kiss on the cheek once when we were hanging out because he complimented my outfit n was being so sweet!! i couldn't help it :c

he didn't do anything immediately, but i did soon feel his hand snaking it's way onto my thigh and giving it a light light squeeze akhsjshd

that same hand later moving around my shoulders to pull me against finn's chest so i could watch him playing minecraft pe ( also so he could whisper to me about how pretty i look today, totally not trying to outdo caleb on the compliments )

"you look so pretty today"

"yeah bambi, i know"

"i'm telling you again because you need to hear it from me"

"oh?? but caleb told me pe—"

"oh my god shush and accept the compliment.. you smell really good. stay here for a little bit"

my dear friend mike wheeler, on the other hand, isn't so chill about it, nor is he very subtle. y'know for a guy who's generally really shy, he's super possessive over me and it's so funny to watch him, his ears burning redder and redder until he bursts

i was talking to jason carver because he was talking about how good i was at cheer rehearsals and i got super blushy and giddy because hello!! i love love love it when people compliment me on my hard work it makes me so happy :c

it just so happens though that lil ol mikey had just been dismissed from his final period and was on his way to pick me up, since we had plans to head to the arcade after school that afternoon! and when he saw me going all gooey from jason's compliments he did not hesitate

our little convo was interrupted by him calling out to me and nodding his head in the direction of the exit. jason was about to speak up again but then mikey fuckin held my wrist n said in that soft voice that i really like "rose, c'mon let's go" and i just gave in and told jason we'd talk another time ^^

"what was that?" i asked as we were walking to the arcade

"what was what—"

"that? that whole thing, that was weird dude"

"i just.. we need to get to the arcade! there might be a lot of people n stuff.."

".. oh my god you're jealous! mikey you're jealous of little ol' jason!"

"ro, no i was not, okay? i was just worried like, what if he like.. what if he asked you to hang out? then you'd ditch me and i'd have no one to go to the arcade with—"

"okay okay, one, gross. jason and his friends are nice but they stink and have trash taste, and two, i would never pass up another opportunity to beat your score in frogger!! hello??"

"whatever you say rosie"

[teddybeartoji]

my latest films!!!

hi hello citizens of loserville i bring you a few ramblings about a few movies bc why the hell not!! very much not proofread i just wrote down whatever popped into my head so yk bear that in mind

fight club (1999) -

this was my tenth rewatch............................. THIS IS MY COMFORT MOVIE OKAYY DON'T JUDGE ME second time to see it on the big screen too!!! this is the perfect movie for me - it has the soundtrack (btw when i first saw this film i got so addicted to the score that the artist ended up being on my spotify top5), it has the actors, it has the outfits, the pacing, THE JOKES, the visuals etc etc etc it's very good for me

NOW this is very niche this is special but just yk stay with me here.... i am driven by two things - curiosity and spite. and my curiosity is very... extreme..... meaning that for like many years now i've been telling my friend about how i need to get punched in the face at least one bECAUSE I JUST NEED TO KNOW WHAT THAT FEELS LIKE OKAY NOTHING MORE TO IT THAN PURE CURIOSITY and then i'm watching fight club..... and The Scene comes. brad pitt goes i want you to hit me. huh? edward norton goes huh? and then pitt just tells him that he's never been to a fight and drops the line of how much can you know about yourself if you've never been in a fight - the way my mouth just hung open i think a couple of flies flew in there. bc what. he... he gets me..... I JUST NEED TO KNOW OKAY it's stupid i know i know and yet......... here i am + somewhere on tumblr there's a post that says "touch starved but for physical violence,, touch starved but in a sensory seeking way,, AUTISTIC FIGHT CLUB WHEN???" and this just sums it up pretty well i think

i love the narrator btw. super loser. i like his final outfit and i like it when pitt calls him "ikea boy". he's literally me. + i don't like brad pitt he can die but his outfits in this one thoughhhhhhhhhhhh ULTIMATE GENDER GUY when he has that shorter shirt on and it lifts up when he raises his hands broooooo insane

oke anyway i really like this silly little movie i won't go too in depth bc this post is already long i am writing this after i already did the last two parts lmao

when harry met sally (1989) -

MY FIRST WATCHHH!!!! absolutely loved it. i was doing breathing exercises as to not BAWL MY FUCKING EYES OUT i am a changed person now.

had the amazing oppurtunity to see this at the cinema too and let me tell you - it just made it so much better. it feels... so fucking good.... to laugh with people. no better feeling than just a room full of strangers, laughing and enjoying a film together. hearing a chuckle from a row over or a whisper followed by a quiet giggle or just having the entirety of the room laugh together as one is just so so so good i'm sorry my vocabulary is just good and amazing but yk it's about the fucking point okay. i loved it. made me feel good, made my heart warm.

the movie itself. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. yeah. the main characters were so fucking great, felt like real people yk. and the dynamic between them???????????????????????? ouch. there's a point in the film where she says that she's difficult while bawling her eyes out and the guy responds with you're challenging with hearts in his eyes while gently brushing the hair from her face. look whatever i might be biased here - as a Challenging person myself, it just felt so reassuring to hear that like that. ++ while she's very stubborn and like things to be the way she wants them to be, he's so fucking patient with her and i think that's my favourite thing of the whole movie. how patient he is. how when everybody else is rolling their eyes, sighing, listening to her tell her very specific order - he's just calmly waiting with a smile on his face. yeah no i'm like super normal about this btw.

the same scene where's she's crying, she's ranting at first, right? she's pacing around, yapping his ear off while he's sitting on the bed with a tissue box in his hand, offering her one the second she throws the away. his eyes are glued to her, he's literally changing and turning himself on the bed so he could be facing her at all time. I'M SOOO NORMALLLLL. when she finally sits down, his eyes are still on her; i'm talking tilting his head just to catch a glimpse of her eyes. + how he kept touching her - a hand in her hair or a hand on her shoulder/thigh sighhhhhhhhhh this guy is the new rolemodel love how i say new when this film literally came out in 1989....

NOWWWW THIS MOVIE AND SATORU MY BELOVED. I THINK. HE WOULD FUCKING LOVE THIS ONE. I THINK HE WOULD ABSOLUTELY ADORE IT. i kept thinking about him during the movie too (smh down very bad) but i just.... i feel like he actually fits the male character very well. he's annoying. he's funny. he has a staring problem. he's touch starved. he's sensitive. he's silly. he's patient (yes while gojo can be very impatient with a lot of things i think when it comes to his beloved... he's ready to take all the time in the world). he's thoughtful. he's a bit childish. he's gentle. he's funny. yes i said that twice what about it. i love him i love them. there's a point in the film where the guy is talking about a hookup and he goes "i made her meow." and i just shghashagsahshgashgahg like c'monnnnn how is this not the most gojocoded thing ever. and he was super chill about it too; his friend had to ask three times you made her meow? and everytime he went i made her meow

this is genuinely a film that i recommend to everyone. it's so fucking sweet and i just had the biggest smile on my face throughout the entire thing ahhhh i really did love it please please lovers watch it<33

dune (2021)

this was my sixth time seeing this movie............. fourth time at the cinema too...... ANYWAY i love denis villeneuve this man is a fucking genius i love all of his movies soooooo much they always look amazing and they sound amazing

the sound design aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa sorry to get weird about it but hearing this is like having a real braingasm. especially at the cinema. my eyes were rolling back inside my head this is not a joke ++ the soundtrack. HELLOO???? i mean ofc it's good it's the god himself hans zimmer for fuck's sake he always delivers he's so fucking good

NOWW i neeed to talk about oscar isaac. very important. my most watched actor of last year btw i think he's wonderful. in this film - i think he gives the best performance out of the whole cast and you can't even argue with me bc i'm literally right. his character is so stoic and he seems so strong and powerful and yet whenever he's with his son or his wife you can just see the love. okay this is mostly villeneuve's directions but knowing oscar's work it's 10000% him too.

it's the small touches and gazes - right in the beginning, it's this important Thing and he's the duke of house atreides he needs to look the part, he looks tough he looks serious but then he looks over to his wife and gives THE most reassuring little look wahh and then he does the same with paul. and it's the other way around bc he looks at paul (his son for who don't know btw), kind of asking for reassurance too although he's literally the duke??? and they can't even stop the deal, it's already happening but he still wanted his son's approval...

i mean then it's the obvious "you'll still be the only thing I have ever wanted you to be- my son." LIKE WHAT AN INSANE LINE my daddy issues are crying a bit i think. and when they're talking he has his hand on his shoulder and it just sooo refreshing to see a father-son relationship like that.

and when he's with his wife, jessica..... godddddd the hand holding when they arrive on arrakis.... the way he lays his head on her lap while she massages the skin between his brows and he reaches up, just to hold her too................. FUUUCKKKK and it's just his eyes man he acts with his eyes and he's sooo fucking good

talking about his eyes- eee wait this paragraph contains a big spoiler ig so if u haven't seen it don't read this one. anyway... when he's paralysed and he can literally only act with his eyes.............. HE DOES IT SO WELL AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA when the baron gets close and talks about how his family will die how his son will die and the one singular tear falls broooooooooooo i can'tttt he's sickk i love him a lot

this is such a simple movie while simultaneously being like light years away from simple. not a lot happens while a lot happens??????? first time u might be a bit confused (this is questionable though bc i haven't read the book but i thought that villeneuve made the story rather easy to understand but my dad (who also hasn't read the book) didn't understand shit and i had to explain everything to him????) while again - not a lot is happening. everybody knows that this is a two and a half hour INTRO to the next part, it's just setting the tone for the next one but it's still so fucking good on its own it's insane.

+ shoutout to stellan skarsgard too!!! i feel like he's a bit underrated in a sense that i rarely see anybody talking about him even though he's in so many big things and he's sooooo good??????? absolutely devours every single role of his and this was no exception. LOVEDD the scene where the baron is first introduced (the sound design and the soundtrack were crazy in this scene too), he's just immediately sooooo off-putting??? he's a bit scary and like weirdly calm and a bit uncanny and well, something is just not right about this guy and you're just hooked. cool guy. a+

good movie. i like. super excited for the new one!!!! oh wait also also they showed us a secret little clip from the new one and i had chills it looked so fucking good and then villeneuve talked a few words too and i was just looking at this guy talking about his movie with a big big smile my cheeks hurt after that i hope he's having a wonderful day