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bopbopstyles · 4 years

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ELEVATED SURFACES

RATING: R/smut (sex, heavy alcohol use, smoking, lots of cursing)

WORD COUNT: 11.6k

CATEGORIES: fratboy!harry

MASTERLIST (check it out for extras) | INSPO TAG | PLAYLIST

a/n: as a recently graduated srat girl and lover of a good frat party, this one shot was intended to fill the whole in my heart which is LEGIT frat Harry. he is fratty and hot and long haired and a mess. if u like this try out TEMPTATION which is my other frat!h series and the first thing i ever wrote on this gd website (he’s not as fratty but we love him a LOT)

a/n pt.2: as a note, i want to make very clear that frats and greek organizations frequently harbor predators and abusers. i do not in any way condone that behavior or that reality, and i would like to bring attention to a petition to remove a fraterity that had done truly many horrible things--your signature would be a huge help. for survivors of assault, you are not alone, and it is not your fault.

As you rose up, your eyes locked on a figure in the doorway of the basement. His long hair was loose, curls that had been pulled out from the hair tie he always had on his wrist, a tight white shirt that you knew meant all of his tattoos were on display. Harry was watching you, you realized as you twisted your hips and bounced your arms up and down with the beat, singing the words. So you kept his gaze, and just to taunt him, when the chorus hit again, you dropped down, ass hitting your heels, eyes on his the whole time.

Harry is a very fratty frat boy and Y/N is a really good dancer

pls reblog and share with your friends 💕

“We really should not be still going to our own mixers,” Emily said to you, fluffing her hair and rotating to check her ass in her jeans. You looked up from where you were sitting on your bed, a gin and tonic in one hand to get your blood flowing before the party started. Emily sighed, and then turned from the mirror to you, grabbing the coffee cup that had never seen coffee, just alcohol. “Are people even going?”

You nodded, tossing your phone next to you and leaning against the bed frame. “Alexis is on her way over—she got held up finishing an essay. Maya said she might come, I tried to convince her by promising I’d bring my flask and you’d have your Juul.”

“I swear, she has to just give in and get one of her own.” Emily took a long sip and crossed her arms.

“She claims that will make her addicted.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “She’s already addicted—she uses half my pods and ends up hanging out with whatever guy will let her take a hit. Is it just going to be us and all the new members?”

“No, I think some juniors are going. And definitely the sophomores—they’re all on the little hunt.” You got up, going to your computer to change the song, scrolling through your comprehensive and well-curated pregame playlist. “Plus, who gives a fuck, we’ll only be there for an hour or two for the free alcohol and then we’re hitting the bars.”

“True.” A knock came from the door, and Emily hollered to come in, and Alexis appeared in the doorway, her makeup looking utterly flawless as always. You had always wanted Alexis’s wardrobe and told her constantly, to which Alexis always replied that she wished you were the same size. Unfortunately, Alexis was a solid five inches shorter than you and had a completely different bra size, making sharing quite difficult.

“Bitches, I brought tequila!” Alexis swung into the room in a cloud of perfume, and threw her arms around you and Emily’s shoulders. “Come on, we need to get tipsy before we get to this mixer. Nick already texted me making sure I was coming.”

“Grab the shot glasses,” You replied, nodding to the makeshift bar cart in the corner, which as laden with glasses of all kinds and all your alcohol. “Are you hooking up with him tonight?”

Alexis shrugged, pulling her tequila from her bag and setting it on your desk before turning and going for the shot glasses. “Probably. I don’t know, he’s been weird lately—we hooked up on Monday night, but then he got all weird and left like immediately after and hasn’t texted me since. Barely acknowledged me when we saw each other in the library.”

“Was the sex weird?” Emily asked, unscrewing the top on the tequila so she could pour.

“Yeah,” Alexis replied, holding the glasses steady while Emily poured. “Like weirdly…intense? I let him come inside me which was probably a stupid idea, but I’m on the IUD so we should be all good. And then I offered to let him stay and he just got all flustered and said he had to go.”

You took your full shot glass, and you all clinked before tossing them back, the alcohol burning on your throat. You hated tequila shots but Alexis loved them, and you did admit they did their job. “Do you think he’s caught feelings?”

Alexis’s eyes widened. She had been pining after Nick for ages, his tall basketball stature and surprisingly good fashion sense a dime a dozen. Much less, apparently the sex was insane, so what wasn’t to like? “You think? I thought it might’ve not been his vibe.”

Emily grabbed the bottle. “Another?” You all nodded, and she poured again, The Weeknd crooning in the background. “Just see what happens tonight, feel out what his vibe his.”

“Good idea.” You slammed back another shot, hissing before setting down the glass. “Okay, that’s enough tequila or you two are going to be carrying me home tonight.”

Emily and Alexis laughed, before taking seats on your bed, continuing to chatter about the night ahead. It was a Friday, your favorite night because it was usually just mixers, no general parties, which as a senior you had grown to despise. The fighting for watered down alcohol, packed bodies and horrific gender ratio was simply no longer something you had the energy to deal with. Mixers were your preferred zone, filled with your sorority sisters who you adored, the opportunity to actually hang out with the frat brothers whose presence you enjoyed, and usually pong. Sometimes they even let you DJ because you had the best party playlists. The president of Sig Ep had actually asked for the link one time and you’d heard they used it sometimes when the brothers didn’t want to man the computer anymore.

You surveyed your outfit in your narrow mirror, the black denim jeans and simple white tank that showed a bit of stomach and your tan you’d worked hard on during your winter escape to the Caribbean with your lineage. It was simple, yet it suited your needs—after three and a half years of college parties, you had discovered getting dressed up for frat parties was a useless activity, since your clothes would get drenched in jungle juice and sweat anyways. You left your best outfits for Saturday nights spent clubbing downtown.

If you were being honest, the whole reason you were going tonight was because at the last mixer you’d had with Beta, you’d turned around on the dance floor to find Harry’s eyes on you. You were already dancing with another one of the brothers and ended up making out with him in a corner until you got bored, but you hadn’t been able to get the sight of his eyes on you out of your head.

You’d known Harry since freshman year, your interactions limited mostly to mixers and the occasional run-in in the dining halls when you exchanged pleasantries, or the one time he’d volunteered for a karaoke team for your sorority philanthropy event and you’d been in charge of his team. But the two of you had rarely ever spent time together. That didn’t mean you hadn’t had a lingering crush on him since you’d first laid eyes on him, though, and over the years he’d only gotten more attracted. A body that filled out his white t-shirts and black jeans, hair long and sweeping his shoulders to where he wore it in a bun most times, a jaw that could cut glass. He was hot and he knew it, as did everyone else on campus.

As juniors you had both been on the executive boards of your respective Greek organizations and had ended up in meetings together about housing violations and social calendars, but it hadn’t ever led to much more than you both complaining about how fucking annoying FIJI and their insistent requests for a house was, considering they’d trashed their last one. But this year, you’d found his eyes on you multiple times, and you wondered if perhaps your time had arrived. You’d both always danced around each other and you were curious after all these years if he was finally interested in hooking up. Not that you really expected much more, or were looking for much else—you were a senior, after all, and you were enjoying it.

“Y/N.” Alexis’s voice ripped you from your musings over Harry, her fingers snapping from her spot on your bed. “What’s got you thinking hard over there?”

“Harry?” Emily guessed, one eyebrow raising. “Emmett said he’ll be there tonight.”

“He’s always there,” you replied, because he was. Like you, he seemed to enjoy the mixers, but usually avoided the open parties unless he was on door duty.

“You’d hook up with him, right?”

You looked at Alexis. “Obviously. He’s so fucking hot.”

She laughed, as did Emily. “Then go for it, girl. It’s not like he’ll say no.”

You shrugged. “He might. Never know.”

“I seriously doubt that. You look hot as fuck, as usual, and are the life of the party. Beta adores you. They literally asked you to move in this year when they had an open spot.”

“It was a joke,” you reminded them, because it was—you wouldn’t ever be allowed to live in the house and they knew that. It was true though, you had become a bit of a groupie over the past few years, preferring the more laid back vibe in their house. You’d become friends with all the senior guys, except the weird or obnoxious ones, and had become a regular invite to Bachelor Monday watch parties in their second floor living room. You brought snacks and your friends, they provided the booze and the cable.

“Still,” Emily said, nudging you the toe of her black booties. “Don’t sell yourself short, babes. He is missing a brain if he’s not interested in you.”

“And seriously missing out,” Alexis added. You shot her a look, but she just chuckled. “Bitch, I lived next door to you last year. You are loud.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you said, laughing, but she was right. You were. Guys had told you on countless occasions, but you really couldn’t find it in yourself to care all that much. “Come on, we should go. Maya is texting me asking when we’re leaving.”

“Do you have your cigs?” Alexis asks you, downing the rest of the drink she’d made while you had been staring into space.

It was your vice, one you had picked up during a semester abroad and only did when you were drunk. You knew you should stop, but something about it made you feel powerful, a bit badass, so you kept doing it. “Obviously. Emmett will have a fit if I don’t.” You swiped your pack from your desk drawer and your trusty pale blue lighter, and shoved them into the pocket of your jacket. With one last swig of your drink, your veins buzzing with alcohol just the right amount, the three of you were off, singing an old Hannah Montana song in the elevator down to the lobby of your dorm.

One of the pledges was working the door, but happily let you three into the frat house. The lights on the main floor were off, except for the ones in the front study that doubled as a coat room, where you tied the arms of your jackets together and set them in the corner so you didn’t lose them. Your cigs were transferred to your back pocket, and you just prayed you didn’t forget they were there and crush them again.

Josephine and another junior were the sober sisters, and offered you three hugs before checking your names off the list. You got positive points for being there, as if that was the main reason you had shown up.

“Emmett!” Emily called, and the blond-headed boy’s head flipped up from where he was standing behind the bar. A Gatorade water cooler was sitting on the high bar, stacks of red solo cups and boxes of white claws and beers sitting on top of one another.

Aka, your happy place. “He’s bartending, thank god,” you said, and grabbed Emily and Alexis, weaving through the crowd. Girls stopped you all as you moved, hugs and squeals at your appearance. You had to admit, you were popular in your sorority, but mainly because you had made it your mission to get your money worth. As a result of your exec position, you’d gotten to know the sophomore member class and you adored them all, chaotic messes who always turned up with you and made you laugh hysterically. Honestly, you were sad to graduate because it meant leaving behind so many fun friends and memories.

“We’ve been waiting for you three,” Emmett said when you arrived in front of him. He was wearing the frat’s homecoming shirt from the previous year and his eyes were dilated, obvious that he had smoked before. “What are we drinking?”

“What’s the mix?” You asked, pointing to the cooler.

He grabbed three cups, knowing you would be taking it. “Shit ton of vodka, Kool Aid, water, the usual.”

“My favorite,” you replied, blowing him a kiss. “How is it downstairs?”

He filled the cups and handed them to you all. “They just wrapped up pong so it’s still getting moving.”

Alexis took a long sip before grabbing your hand. “Sounds like we need to get people dancing.” With that she turned around, her long slick black hair moving in a circle. “Let’s dance!” She called, and the girls around you cheered, following the three of you down the slippery steps to the basement.

Downstairs, The Motto was playing and you bobbed your head along with the beat, moving your hips as you entered the large basement space. It was dark except for a glowing sign with the Beta letters in narrow neon lights, casting the room with a tint of green. Your battered frat shoes, an old pair of white Vans, stuck against the beer and jungle juice-covered floor as you made your way to the middle. A couple of other girls and brothers were scattered around the floor, and you broke from Emily and Alexis’s hands as you twirled on the floor.

You raised your cup above your head and started dancing, rapping the lyrics by heart, moving your hands and hips along with the song. Emily and Alexis sang along with you and some of the younger girls showed up, then some other seniors who shared your love for frat parties. All of a sudden your little was screaming and running towards you, Mallory’s arms wrapping around your waist.

“Oh my fuck god, MOM,” she screamed, using the nickname she’d had for you since you’d taken her as your little two years ago. You laughed and threw your arm around her shoulders, screaming the lyrics. There was a specific reason you had taken Mallory as your little, and it was because she lost her shit at parties just as much as you did. You two were a dynamic duo like no other, and if your grand little didn’t have a huge exam on Monday, she’d be here too and you would all be dancing together as usual.

You downed your jungle juice, the sugary drink combined with the loud music blasting and your friends making your adrenaline kick into high gear. And then Maya appeared, arms waving like crazy, and then she dropped it low and you remembered why you adored her, even if she always stole Emily’s Juul. She had a beer in one hand and a white claw in the other, ready for the night ahead.

Then Emmett appeared, trailed by some of the other brothers in tank tops and t-shirts, one carrying a six pack on his shoulder and handing out warm beers to the brothers he passed. Emmett beelined for Emily, his arm thrown around her shoulder, their completely platonic friendship on show for everyone. The song ended and you took a breath, crushing your cup and tossing it into the corner so you could have your hands free. Emily pulled her Juul free and took a hit, passing it to Maya next without a question between them.

The opening notes of Come Get Her started and you immediately grabbed Alexis and Emily, beelining for the bar that the speakers rested on, something you weren’t even sure how it got there, but it was your favorite elevated surface of all time. Wide enough to dance, tall enough to be high but not too high where you couldn’t mostly stand. You clamored up, coming to nearly full height and turning to your friends.

“Somebody come get her, she’s dancing like a stripper!” You screamed, your friends coming in a circle in front of the three of you, some other girls getting up on the bar. When the line came through again, you decided fuck it, and you dropped your ass low, bending your knees and tipping your head back.

When you danced, you didn’t give a single fuck about impressing guys or any of that. You just simply loved to dance with your friends, move your hips, and didn’t care what you looked like. Mallory screamed when you got low, your name falling from her lips in a squeal of joy.

That had him moving. He joined a circle where Emmett and some other senior guys were dancing with some other girls, beers in hand as they shifted back and forth. But you knew what would have them all actually dancing and screaming and jumping along with you. You needed to see Harry like that—loose and free. So you turned around and grabbed the attention of the sophomore on aux, his name something along the lines of Justin, and screamed your song choice to him. He gave you a thumbs up, and then you turned back around. Your hair was sticking to the back of your neck, and you rolled it into a loose, high bun, pulling the elastic on your wrist around it as you swayed to the song.

You could hear the song ending, and with your eyes on Harry, you decided you would get down. He was next to a pledge with a six pack, and you wanted a beer. You were mixing alcohols like nobody’s business tonight, but you’d done worse. You squatted down and kicked your feet out, Mallory’s hand coming out to help you down. “You good?” She asked, leaning in to you.

“Yeah, just hot,” you replied. “Going to get a beer.” She nodded and let you go. There wasn’t a need to watch your friends as much in a normal party, since you knew all the girls here. Maya pulled you in for a hug as you moved, and then the current president called out your name from where she stood with her boyfriend, a white claw in her hand.

Squeezing next to Emmett, you nudged the waist of the pledge next to you. “Can I get one?” You asked, pointing to the beers.

“Yeah,” he replied, pulling one from the case and handing it to you. It was a Natty Light, but you really could’ve given fewer fucks—they were a frat after all, they didn’t buy the good stuff.

You popped the tab and took a long swig, the liquid quelling your rough throat from singing. And then, the song changed, and you smiled, eyes meeting Harry’s. You decided you were going to draw him out. “I got hoes, callin’!” You screamed, the song starting the speakers, and the boys all joined in. Fuck it, you thought, and chugged the rest of your beer so that you could jump, your arms outstretched and pumping up and down. Your bun was bouncing on your head and you were grinning, the music flowing through you.

Harry was watching you, his head tapping, hair swishing back and forth. You needed more. So you moved into the center of the circle, knowing the guys would hype you up, and reached for him. “Why aren’t you dancing?” You asked him playfully, and his eyebrow shot up.

“Fuck! Shit! Bitch!” The best lines of the song ran through the speaker and you just grabbed his hand, which was warm, and pulled on him. Suddenly his body was in front of you, close, and you tried to process what your original plan was. But then, Harry started moving, back and forth, head bopping, rapping the lyrics in time, and you knew you had gotten him. “I be ballin’, like a motherfuckin’ pro,” you sang, starting up to jump, and to your surprise, Harry joined you, a carefree expression finally crossing his face. He was screaming the lyrics then, hair bouncing as he moved. He rotated, grabbing the shoulders of another one of the boys, who joined in with him, them screaming the lyrics at each other.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the change in his demeanor so sudden. When the song changed, T-Shirt by Migos coming on, he turned back to you. All of a sudden, his lips were next to your ear and you choked on air. “Fuckin’ love that song,” he said, accent smooth in your ear.

“You and every other frat boy,” you replied, stepping backwards. You had ended up at the side of the circle closer to the wall, and so you moved towards it, freeing yourself from the heavy circle of boys.

The song was slower, not a jumping and dancing song, but one that suggested the slow grinding of hips and closeness of bodies. Which fuck it, you wanted. Desperately. He was looking at you with an intense stare, smile sloppy from alcohol, Harry sweaty on his forehead, arms straining under the fabric of his shirt. He was following you, taking a step away from his friends and following your body as if magnetic. So you just went for it, putting your weight lower, and rolled your hips back and forth to the music.

Mama told me/not to sell work/Seventeen five/same color T-shirt

Your eyes met his, and the shared intensity of his gaze stirred something inside of you. Desire. A need to know what his skin felt like, a desire that had been lingering since you first saw him. Your hands moved on their own, draping over his shoulders, and his hands found the curve of your waist, and suddenly you knew what his skin felt like on yours. They found the bare skin between the hem of your shirt and the top of your jeans, burning your already warm skin.

Justin-something on aux changed the song, deciding that was enough, and then No Role Modelz was on, and you moved, swaying back and forth, your chests coming closer and closer. His face was inches from yours and you wondered what his lips would taste like. The slow rap and smooth feel of the beat had your eyes fluttering shut, mind twirling from the alcohol and the lowlights, the heat of the packed basement. If you didn’t have Harry under your hands, you might have left for a smoke break, an excuse for air. But you weren’t letting go of him anytime soon. So you turned around and when your ass touched his dick you couldn’t help but smile—he was already hard. You felt his arm move and watched him sip his beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he drank. You rolled your hips against him and then reached up, grabbing the can and bringing it to your own lips, taking a sip and watching him watch you. The two of you were taunting each other, acting on a feeling that had always been an undercurrent in every one of your interactions, a slight sexual tension that if you pulled on would become taught.

Which as you pressed against him, you fucking yanked on. His free hand clasped around your hip, holding you close and swaying in time with you. You could feel the sweat that had soaked through his t-shirt a bit, but you didn’t care—you were sweaty yourself, so was everyone in the room. It was part of the appeal, the fact that everyone was a mess and no one cared. He was rock hard between the denim of both of your jeans, and you could feel the power racing through you, the fact that you had him like this going straight to your head.

When Mr. Brightside came on, you decided that was your smoke break time. You couldn’t stand the song after so many years, and the feeling of bodies pressing together as they jumped was too much for you. “I’m going to get some air,” you said, turning around so you could face Harry.

He was so close to you, just inches away, when his tongue licked over his lip. “Can I come with?”

“Sure.” You grabbed his hand as you moved through the crowd, pushing between frat brothers and your sorority sisters who were all dancing together to the song. When you made it through the exit you sighed, the stale air of the stairwell even feeling better than that room.

“Fuck it was hot in there,” Harry said, your hand dropping from his. He followed you up the stairs and you nodded. You pushed open the door and a Doja Cat song was playing, some people upstairs scattered around, drinking and talking, some sitting on couches together. You waved to Maya, who seemed to have also needed a break, and nodded to the door as if to tell her you were getting some air.

“I’m going to smoke if that’s okay,” you told him as you made your way to the door, pulling your cigs and lighter from your back pocket.

He nodded. “Can I bum one?”

You opened the heavy oak door and said hello to the handful of guys sitting on the steps, who were manning the door and making sure no one random got in. “Sure,” you responded to Harry finally, sitting down on the concrete half wall that lined the landing. You could hear the slight thump of the music, but for the most part it was quiet, the the frat house a couple yards away not throwing anything tonight.

Harry leaned against the wall close to you, taking your offered cigarette. You flicked the lighter and raised it to your cigarette, taking a drag when it lit. Then you handed it to Harry, who accepted it gladly, doing the same. The smoke filled your lungs and your drunken mind considered that you should quit, but at the same time, you liked having something to do when you got air, an excuse to be on the steps. One of the other guys asked for one, and you handed one over, making a new friend.

And then you looked back to Harry. “So,” you said, tapping the ash on your cig. “How have you been?”

You hadn’t seen him since your last mixer with Beta, but you two hadn’t talked in ages. “Good,” he replied. “Busy with classes and stuff.”

“What are you studying again?”

“Political science,” he answered, and your eyebrows shot up. You had expected business or economics, like most of the Beta brothers.

“Why poli sci?”

He shrugged, tapping the ash before taking another drag. “Dunno, really. Took a class freshman year and liked it enough.”

“You don’t want to work in politics or something?”

“I don’t really know what I want to do, honestly.”

“You make it sound like that’s unusual,” you tell him. “Most people don’t.”

He chuckles, a low sound from the back of his throat, and you like the sound of it. “I’ll tell my dad that next time we talk.” You could tell there was a story there, but didn’t push. It wasn’t that kind of moment. “What about you?”

“Psych and pre-law,” you reply, the answer rolling off your tongue with ease.

“Oh? What kind of law?”

You took another drag before answering. “Criminal defense, but I want to work with people on death row.”

His eyes widen, just as you expected. It’s the usual response from people. “Fuck, that’s awesome. What made you interested in it?”

“I just got really into true crime when I was in middle school and ended up doing research on the criminal justice system and what a fucking disaster it is. Death sentences and death row especially. So I want to overturn false convictions.”

He puffed a cloud of smoke, and you watched his lips form a circle, a dark pink color that drew you in. “And you said most people don’t know what they want to do.”

A breeze made the hair on your arm hair stand up, and you rubbed the skin to warm up. It was cold tonight. “I’m unusual,” you told him. “Most of my friends have no idea what they’re doing after graduation.”

You had reached the end of your cigarette, so you dropped it to the ground and stamped it out, the combination of the nicotine and alcohol making your head deliciously hazy. “I’m going back in.”

Harry dropped his cigarette too, putting out the bud. “Lead the way.” He swiped his ID card on the door to let you both in, and you held the door for him, the sound of Post Malone sweeping through the house. “Want another drink?”

You mentally considered how drunk you were, came to the conclusion that you could take some more, and nodded. “White claw, please.” If you laid off the jungle juice you would last a bit longer, and you weren’t particularly wanting to get wasted tonight—you wanted to see where this went.

Harry nodded and walked towards the bar, while you turned to the group of girls closest to you, who were drinking juice and chattering amongst themselves. They immediately started asking you about Harry, about what was happening, and you shrugged because you truly didn’t know. “He’s hot,” one of them, a sophomore named Cat said. “You going to go for it?”

“If the opportunity presents itself,” you replied. You weren’t going to push with Harry, the last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself in front of him. You’d follow his lead, see what he was interested in, matching his flirting and see where it went. Not to say you weren’t forward, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable either. “What about you guys?”

Cat launched into an in-depth analysis of the weird flirtation she’d been having with a junior guy in Beta, how they’d hooked up once but not again, but he kept looking at her. You encouraged her to go for it if she wanted, and she grinned, perhaps just needing an extra push. All of a sudden, you felt a hand on your back, and Harry was next to you, a Black Cherry white claw in one hand, a Heineken in the other.

“If I’d know there were Heinekens I would’ve had that,” you told him, accepting your white claw.

His hair fell behind his shoulders when he tipped the beer back. “Most girls don’t like beer.”

“Well you’ve met one now.” You liked messing with him, dropping flirtations into the conversation and pushing buttons. It made him smirk at you and you loved it, the twinkle in his eyes and the pinkness of his lips.

“H.” A guy appeared behind Harry. “We’re out of vodka.”

“How are we out?” He asked, taking another sip of his beer.

The guy, a pledge from the looks of him, grimaced. “Someone took one of the bottles.”

“Fuck,” Harry said with a sigh. “Have one of the other pledges go get more and keep the receipt. Get more claws while you’re out, we’re running low.” With that, he turned back to you, exhaling sharply. The boy disappeared, sensing that was his cue.

Right as you were about to speak, you heard the opening notes of I Love It from downstairs, and you turned to the girls around you. “Downstairs,” you told them, and they all tossed back the rest of their drinks before tossing them into the trash can a few paces away. You opened the door to the basement and then looked back to Harry. “Coming?”

That made him move, following you down into the dark stairwell that smelled of stale beer and sweat. He stayed close to you, and when your foot slipped on a stair he reached out to steady you, a hand to your side that made your body warm with more than just the temperature of the room. The girls in front of you streamed into the room, screaming the lyrics to the song.

“You’re such a fucking hoe/I love it!” You joined in, laughing at the lyrics in spite of yourself, but the truth is you fucking loved the song. It was absurd and was filthy, but you liked screaming the lyrics in a room with a bunch of your friends.

You twirled around and walked into the room backward, moving your body with the beat, taunting Harry to follow you. Which he did, as if connected to you by a magnet. You could see his lips moving, the lyrics falling from his lips to match you. You stopped moving in the middle of the room and Harry’s hands found your hips. Turning in his hands, a coy smile on your face, you knew what this song was going to involve. Hips moved on their own accord, grinding hard against him. You could feel his breath on your neck, the lyrics I’m a sick fuck/I like a quick fuck/I like my dick sucked/I’ll buy you a sick truck in your ear. Hearing the words on his lips for some reason had your blood pumping, and you wanted to hear them again on a loop.

His dick was hard against your ass and your hands stretched behind you, finding his hips to hold him close. His head fell to your neck, nosing at your skin, his fingers on the bare skin at your waist clenching. Your hips moved in time with each other, his body dropping to be at the height as yours, chasing the desire that was running between you. Your head tipped back against his chest and eyes fluttered shut, letting the alcohol in your veins and the music pounding in your ears take over. All you could feel was him, the cut of his body and the strength of his arms next to you, his hips insistently rubbing against yours and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to actually grind on him.

The song changed, Work Out by J. Cole sounding through the speakers and you pulled away from him and turned to face him. You were going to put on a bit of a show, you decided, because why the fuck not. It was clear at this point that he wanted you as much as you wanted him, so why pretend like anything else was happening?

So when the lyrics Let me see you get/High then go low/Now, girl won't you drop that thing down to the floor? fell through the speakers you dropped to the ground, Harry’s eyes following you came back up slowly, your body just inches from his. His hands fell on your body, grabbing at your waist to keep you close, pressing his hips forward to grind right over the front of your jeans and you panted from both the heat in the room and the pleasure ripping through your body. When the chorus came again, you dropped down, and this time you ran your hands down his legs lightly as you moved, fingers dancing down and then back up the seams of his jeans.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he said and you could barely hear him over the music.

His eyes met yours, searing into yours, a question passing between you. And then you were moving towards each other, an answer to the question in the way your lips met, slotted together and pulled at one another. Your hands were pulling at his shirt, grabbing at the material and the skin underneath, one of his hand holding your head close to his, the other at your waist. It was fast and messy, your lip pulling on his bottom one, before chasing him, his tongue brushing at the seam of your lips before dipping inside.

Kissing Harry was hot. It was like setting your whole body on fire with desire and you just wanted to know what the rest of him felt like because his lips were sending you to another planet. He tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth and a moan escaped you, desperation clear in your throat. You could feel bodies press around you, the notes of Fire by Louis the Child ringing through the room. When the beat dropped, you knew people were jumping, the guys doing that thing where they slammed into each other like some kind of mosh. But Harry just stayed there, pulling his lips into yours, drawing wet pants from your body. He was holding tight to you as if you were going to slip away, even though that was the last place you wanted to go.

But you decided you wanted to tease him a bit more. Not let him get away, but just…push him a bit. So you drew away, enough to where you could dance, your sorority sisters at your back—you had seen Alexis move behind you. You grinding on her, your asses touching, and you could hear her laughter, before moving against you. It was something you two always did, dancing partners since the moment you met.

“If I go down in flames/The smoke going to spell my name,” you sang.

Harry watched you, his eyes burning a line down your body, the ministrations of your hips against Alexis’s. And then he was moving towards you, his front pressed yours and his lips were at your ear. “Drink?”

You nodded, and let him pull you through the crowd and towards the stairs. People were moving down them and you pressed yourself to the wall to let them pass, before following Harry up the stairs to the main floor. “Is there anything better than that shit?” You asked him when you stood next to him, his arm loosely around your waist, holding you to him.

His gaze drifted to the bar and then back to you. “I’ve got some stuff in my room.”

You knew he lived in the house, the result of being on exec last year and having first dibs after the current exec board was placed, the hierarchy the same as in your own sorority house. “Do you have mixers?” As much as you drank, you still hated drinking most straight alcohol, especially if you were going to be sipping on it. When he nodded, you replied, “Let’s go.”

You caught the eye of Emily who was standing on the other side of the room, watching you, and you pointed upstairs to tell her where you were going. After she gave you a thumbs up, letting you know she’d check in before leaving, a silent conversation well rehearsed over the years, you followed Harry up the stairs. Other guys and girls streamed down them, coming from rooms where they were smoking or using the bathroom or drinking just like you.

“What floor are you on?” You asked when you passed the first floor, twisting to go up the second flight.

“Third,” he replied, not pausing no the stairs. “It’s quieter.”

That made sense, as you could imagine if he didn’t feel like partying one night it would be kind of hard to avoid. You followed him up, the sound of the music fading as you made your way higher into the frat house. You passed other girls on the way you exchanged hugs and promises to catch up after chapter on Monday night. Finally, you made it to the third floor, and Harry pushed open the door to a room with his name on it.

You followed him in and the first thing you noticed was how much of a boy’s room it was. Messy comforter, clothes on the floor, alcohol bottles lining the window sill, the frat’s flag above his bed. Some posters and photos littered the opposite wall, a single framed photo of what looked like his family on his dresser, along with some random items like cologne and a brush and hair ties. A pair of athletic shoes and boots were shoved into one corner, and a tub of protein powder sat on top of his mini-fridge, along with a stack of solo cups. On his desk was a bong and a couple of lighters, his computer sitting next to it on a charger. The dorm room was narrow, most of it taken up with a double bed that you were a bit confused by, since most rooms just had a single.

“Sorry, it’s kind of a mess,” he said, shutting the door behind you. If you focused on it, you could hear nerves in his voice, a low laugh in the back of his throat as he surveyed his room. “Didn’t expect to have people up here.”

“It’s fine,” you told him, moving into the middle of the room to get out of the doorway, taking in the space.

“Uh, I’ve got Tito’s, Jack, some gin one of the guys got me.”

It drew you back to the whole reason you were in his room. He was standing next to his mini-fridge, a solo cup in his hand as he looked at you. “What mixers do you have?”

“Coke, juice, and tonic,” he replied. “Sorry, it’s not much.”

You shook your head. “Tito’s and tonic,” you told him. Usually you would’ve been all over the Jack and coke option, but considering how much you’d already drank the last thing you needed was to mix clear and dark liquors.

You watched him pour, leaning against his desk as you waited. He handed you the cup, asking you to try it and tell him if it was too strong. You took a sip and it was strong, but not too much. Then, he made a whiskey and coke you were jealous of, and the two of you stood in his room, not quite sure what to do. You didn’t want to go back down the party, the feeling of fresh air—even though it smelled vaguely like college boy, a mixture of sweat and cologne that you keenly recognized—feeling good on your skin.

“Want to listen to some music?” He asked, moving towards you. There was a bluetooth speaker on his desk, you realized, and shifted away so he could get at his computer.

You decided to sit on the bed, thighs resting on the soft comforter. “Sure.” You pulled your cigarettes and lighter from your back pocket, before looking back at him.

He fiddled with the speaker, the sound of it connecting ricocheting in the small room, before clicking keys to wake up his computer. “Any preferences?”

“I’m good with whatever,” you replied. “I like pretty much everything.” It was true, you had everything from country to Top 40s and rap on your Spotify, a variety of playlists to fit the mood.

He pulled on his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger as he perused his Spotify and you tried not to focus on the sight. Low music began to sound in the room and you immediately recognized the beginning notes of Let Her Go by 6LACK, a smile drifting onto your face. He must have noticed, because he turned around, his cup in his hand. “You like 6LACK?”

“More like obsessed,” you replied and he chuckled.

He sat on the edge of the desk, his knees falling open, his back slumped a bit. “I don’t know a single girl who even knows who he is.”

You took a sip of your drink before replying, resting your body back on one hand. “They must not have good music taste, then.”

Harry gave you a small smile, an edge of playfulness to it. “Where’s home for you?”

“Denver,” you responded. “You?”

“Holmes Chapel.”

“Where’s that?”

He brushed a hand through his hair, the long locks slipping between his fingers and you couldn’t help but wish you were the one doing it. “South of Manchester. It’s a small town, lots of fields and shit like that.”

You’d never been to England so you had no idea of where Manchester was, but you didn’t ask. “Do you like it?”

He shrugged. “It’s fine. I don’t want to like, move back or anything. But it’s a good place to go home to.”

Denver felt the same way to you—it was home, but it wasn’t a place you saw a future in. You’d go where law school took you, and then the work, wherever you could make the biggest impact. “Where do you want to go?”

The solo cup hung in his hands, and he twirled it a bit, the rim of the cup pressed between his fingers. “LA, maybe. New York. Not sure, really. London, most likely, unless I can get a job and someone to sponsor my Visa so I can stay.”

“Do you like the states?” You knew you were asking a lot of questions, but you’d never had a conversation like this with him and you were curious. Curious about him, about who he was, underneath all the frat shit that he loved so much.

“It’s different than home,” he replied, and you understood what he meant. “I don’t think I’ll want to be here forever, but it’s good for right now. Got friends here now.”

You took another sip of your drink, and then pushed yourself up, the need to pee suddenly overtaking your body. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Down the hall. Make sure you slam on the door before locking it—it got fucked up during homecoming and hasn’t been the same ever since.”

You nodded and took your cup with you, four years of college ingraining some lessons into your bones. Down the hall, you found a blond wood door and a doorknob that was barely attached to the door. You pushed it open and shut it quickly, shoving against it with your shoulder so that you could flip the lock. Inside, you wondered for the millionth time why boys were in capable from having a properly stocked bathroom. Head & Shoulders shampoo littered the floor of the shower, a flimsy shower curtain that had come free from a couple of the rings. You squatted to pee, grabbing the toilet paper roll that sat on top of the toilet, no one even bothering to properly put it away.

As you peed, you scrolled through your phone. Mallory had texted saying she was going bar hopping with some of her friends and you told her to text you if she needed anything and a heart, before checking her on Find My Friends to see she was, in fact at a bar. Then you texted your group chat with Emily and Alexis and Maya, who had asked how you were doing. You told them you were with Harry and most likely going to be here for a while, which got excited responses and Alexis sent the eggplant emoji, which made you snort. They told you to text you if you ended up staying the night so they could keep track of where you were, which you agree to do.

When you went to wash your hands, you rolled your eyes because of course they couldn’t even buy hand soap. You went to the shower and found a bottle of body wash, and squirted some into your hands before going back to the sink, rinsing them off. Then you looked at your face in the mirror, eyeliner and mascara still in tact, but your hair was a disaster. You pulled the bun free and let your hair tumble down your back, running through it with your fingers to calm the strands that were askew.

Standing the mirror, you had the opportunity to consider your choices. Did you want to hook up with Harry? Yes. That was a clear answer, despite your alcohol-hazed mind. Did he want to? Most likely—every indication had pointed towards yes. So your mind was made up as you pulled the door open and made your way back to his room, your phone tucked into your jeans and solo cup in your hand.

“You guys really need soap.”

He was still sitting on the edge of his desk, scrolling through his phone and sipping on his drink when you came into the room. At the sight of you, he put his phone down. “I know—it’s fucking disgusting. I have my own, though. Sorry for not sharing.”

You set your cup on his dresser, deciding you were done, and moved towards him. “It’s fine. I made do.” His eyes trailed down your front, the sexual tension thick in the room. When he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and chewed on it, you decided fuck it you were done waiting.

You crossed the space between the two of you in second, slotting yourself between his knees. His hands found your waist immediately, his solo cup moving to rest on the table once your body was pressed to his. Without pausing, you pressed your lips to his, reconnecting them in a fire—you needed him, you wanted him, you craved his hands on your skin. Now that you were alone, it was like you couldn’t hold yourself together and neither could he. His hands moved up and down your back, tugging you into his chest as your hands curled in his long hair. Lips fought for dominance, teeth tugging and tongues pressing for more. When he licked into your mouth a wet moan left your lips and you pressed into the crotch of his pants without even meaning to.

6LACK was still flowing through the speaker, and the smooth RnB just adding to the desire rolling through your body. When his lips dropped to your neck, sucking and biting on your skin, a desperate, filthy noise fell from your mouth and you couldn’t help but smile when Harry grunted into you. “I—fuck,” he mumbled, squeezing at your hips.

Suddenly your clothes were too warm, burning against your skin. You leaned back and pulled at the hem of your tank top, pulling it up over your head and letting it fall to the floor. Harry’s eyes went wide, blown out irises from alcohol and desire criss-crossing over your body. “You can touch me,” you said, confidence coursing through your veins and just desperate for him to do something.

He didn’t hesitate, pulling you back into him and attaching his mouth to the swell of your breast, right above the lace of your bra. Hot breath on your skin had you keening into him, back arching up into his mouth, your fingers tugging into his hair. You loved his hair, having something to hold onto and anchor yourself, and from the pleased hums he liked it too. His hands fumbled with your bra clasp, and when he got it free and pulled the material away, he pulled your nipple into his mouth and you audibly sighed. When he sucked on it, then laved over it with his tongue you couldn’t help but buck into him. You were putty in his arms and he had barely done anything.

Your hands pulled at his shirt, the desire to see his skin overwhelming you. He didn’t make you wait, helping you tug it over his head, and let it drop to the floor. Black ink scattered across his skin, words and images that made a million questions swirl in your mind. The G on his shoulder, the ship on his bicep, the name Jackson scrawled above a rose, the swallows across his collarbones and a butterfly on his stomach. He sat there, chest heaving as he caught his breath and your fingers brushed his skin, curiosity getting the better of you.

“Y/N,” he rasped, “bed?”

“Yes.” The word fell from your lips with ease, and he was backing you into it immediately, hands in your hair and lips on yours. Your bare chests touching sent you into overdrive, the brush of your nipples on his warm skin, a sheen of sweat covering both of you from dancing all night.

The comforter was plush underneath your back as you scrambled up the length of his bed, his body following yours immediately. Your legs fell apart so he could fit between you, and when he did, his dick rested right against your clothed clit and it made you gasp. “Feel good?” He mumbled, the words a haze in your ears as he plucked your lips between his.

All you could do was buck up, your knees finding either side of him. You wanted to be on top, to be in control. You wanted to grind on him properly, after waiting for so long. With a hand at his chest, you pushed slightly, enough for him to move back. He must have understood what you wanted because he flopped onto the bed next to you, one hand on either of your thighs and you mounted him, your ass sitting on the top of his thighs.

When you moved your center over his dick, both of you groaned, deep and drawn out, your head thrown back in pleasure. It was bliss, after so much waiting, to finally be able to do this, his hands crawling from your thighs to your hips to hold you in place, exactly where he wanted you. You put your hands on his chest to hold yourself up, and let your hips find a sinful rhythm, one that was making pleasure curl in your stomach. Pants left your mouth, matched by Harry, who was watching you as if you were a fucking art exhibit, eyes trying to take in every inch of you. Fingernails curled into his skin, red marks that you expected to be there tomorrow, when he nudged at your clit, and you rubbed that spot a few more times, his name falling from your lips in a beg. “Harry.”

That had him moving, pulling your lips down to his so he could kiss you again, his fingers cradling the back of your head. It was just rough enough where you were scrambling to catch up and it felt good, that this was consuming every part of your brain. You rolled your hips again, your hands pressing into the pillow under his head. Then, you felt his thighs agains your ass, and he was pushing up into you, making him snugly flush against you, the only thing between you two being your clothes.

Which you wanted off, and wanted off now. You moved back, crawling between his legs, and his eyes followed you, panting as he watched you pop the button on his pants. He lifted his hips to help you and you tugged the tight skinny jeans that showed every inch of his thickness underneath them down his legs. Then, you pulled on his briefs, and he was bare in front of you, exactly as you wanted him. Your jeans were constricting your movement so you turned tot he side, pulling the denim off of your body so you were left in your underwear.

Then you were on him again, but this time, it was your hand on his dick, fingers running up the length of him.

“Fuck,” he said, voice husky in your ears. He was gorgeous underneath you, desperation making his eyebrows crease, his long hair a mess on the pillow. Why had you waited so long to act on this desire? You suddenly couldn’t remember.

He watched you spit onto his most sensitive part, and then slide your hand over him, spreading the moisture. He hissed at the feeling and you knew you wouldn’t be able to last long here—he was already hard, his tip red and throbbing. The fact that you had him this turned on and you’d barely done anything made your ego soar, to be honest. You pumped him three times before licking up the underside of him, his hands curling in the comforter, a stream of curses falling from his lips.

When you took him into your mouth, a low, rough grunt filled the room and you smiled. You hollowed your cheeks and immediately took him all the way into your mouth, resisting the urge to gag when he hit the back of your throat. “Shit,” he rasped. “You—shit.”

You’d done what you were about to give him just a handful of times before, only with people who you knew you would feel pleasure from too when they did it, and trusted. And Harry fit both of those categories, because he could fucking smile and you’d want to fuck him. So you grabbed his hand and placed it on the back of your head, before taking him all the way to the back of your throat. Your mouth was full of him and it felt so good.

“Want me to fuck your mouth?” His eyes were glimmering in the light, completely focused on you. You were happy you had left the lights on, because it meant you could every inch of him, every reaction you drew from him.

In response, you licked at his tip, hoping he knew that meant yes.

He seemed to, because he curled his fingers into your hair and pushed his hips up, his tip hitting your throat immediately. You groaned around his dick and he cursed at the vibrations. Then, he kept his hips on the bed and instead pulled you up and down him, fucking your mouth just as you had wanted. You couldn’t do much from this position, so you focused on inhaling through your nose and running your hands over his skin, scratching at the butterfly on his torso. Leaving reminders of this night, of you, on his body.

“Shit,” he mumbled, pulling you off. “I—I have to stop. But, shit, you feel so good, babe.”

The pet name made you smile, sitting back on your heels to wipe at your mouth, the taste of his salty precum still on your tongue. “Do you have a condom?” You asked, because all that you had done had left you more than ready—you needed him inside of you.

Harry’s eyes went wide and he scrambled up. “Fuck,” he exhaled, grabbing at his desk drawer and pulling it open. Watching him look through his drawers completely naked was, you had to admit, a bit amusing, but you kept your thoughts to yourself. He wrenched another drawer open, tossing the contents about as he looked. Then he sighed, and looked back at you. “I’m out.”

“Go find one,” you told him, leaning back against the wall, letting your knees drop open to show your underwear. You could feel the wet spot on them and you knew he saw it too. “I’ll wait here.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll—yeah I’ll find one.” He pulled on his jeans, not even bothering with his briefs, eyes flickering to you every once and a while. “Shit, I’ll—I’ll be back.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at how flustered he was, pushing open his door and letting it slam shut behind him. Through the door you could hear him knocking on the door next to his, some muffled words, and then him knocking again. He was going fucking door to door looking for a condom, you realized with amusement. Then, the patter of feet on the stairs, and you knew he was going downstairs, that no one else was in their rooms.

While you waited, you grabbed your phone and scrolled through it. Caught up on texts, liked shit on Instagram, checked Snapchat even though you barely used the app. Most people were at bars, as far as you could tell, but it looked like they’d set back up pong downstairs according to Emily’s story.

All of a sudden, feet pounded on the stairs and you knew it was Harry. You pushed your phone back onto the desk, and when the door opened, he was standing there holding probably ten condoms. “How many did you get?”

He looked down at the wad in his hand and visibly blushed. “I—I thought I’d re-stock.”

You let it slide, even though you knew exactly why he got so many. He was hoping you’d have a couple rounds, and you were not opposed to the idea. “Come here,” you said, and let your legs fall back open.

He was on you in second, his pants kicked down his legs as he moved and you were surprised he didn’t trip. Hands found your skin and he pushed you up the bed, this time he was the one hovering over you, lips drawing eager mewls from you. You pressed your hips into his unclothed erection and he cursed, a grimace crossing his face that you knew was from him restraining himself. “Can I take these off?” He asked, fingers pulling at your underwear.

“Please,” you replied and that made him smile at you. He peeled them down your legs, tossing them to the ground, a forgotten memory. Then he brushed a finger over your slit and you gasped, cool touch sending waves of pleasure through you. “Need you.” The two words made his head snap up from where he was looking at your pussy, eyes connecting with yours.

“I was going to go down on you,” he said, and although the thought was tantalizing, you needed him inside of you.

You shook your head. “Later.”

Harry wasn’t complaining. He grabbed one of the condoms from his desk and ripped it open, rolling it down his dick with a concentrated gaze. Then, he crawled up your body, reconnecting your lips, and you both sighed at the feeling of his dick rolling against your center. “Okay?” He asked, pulling away just a hair to check in.

“Please,” you begged, and that had him moving immediately.

He tugged one of your legs around his waist, and then he gripped his dick, brushing his tip to your slit once, twice, three times. On the third time, though, he pressed in, and your wetness accepted him immediately, allowing him to push in about halfway before he stopped.

It burned a bit—mainly just from his size, which was bigger than most other guys you’d been with. You hands scrambled across his chest, grabbing at his skin, struggling to get your breathing under control. “You’re big,” you said, unable to stop the words that fell from your lips.

A cocky smile drifted over his face and you mentally kicked yourself for adding to his ego. “Can I move?” He asked though and you nodded. His head bobbed down, and you realized he was watching where you two were connected as he pulled back and then pushed in all the way. A choked moan left your mouth and a similar one sounded from Harry’s, although his had a string of curses attached. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he rasped, hands adjusting so they were next to your head, his face above yours. “Fuck.”

You were about to tell him to move when he did it on his own accord, pulling out and back into you, the impact making your body shift on the comforter. There was a very real possibility of you having sore legs tomorrow, but you really didn’t give a fuck because he felt so good. “Holy shit,” you babbled, those words the only ones you could find as he thrusted in and out of you, finding a rhythm that made you both pant with pleasure.

Sounds drifted out of you without you even realizing, something that always happened when you had drunk sex. You couldn’t control yourself as much, unable to process how loud you were being, what you were saying. Looking back you couldn’t even remember exactly what you had said, but you knew it was a mess of curses and his name and God and just pants and mewls that were feeding Harry like a fucking three course meal.

He loved your sounds, used them to figure out what you liked, where to move and shift. You could tell because when you’d let out a sharp gasp he’d say, “Yeah, there? That’s the spot?” and drive in and out of you, hitting your g-spot perfectly with every move of his hips. Your hands were clutching at his hair as he thrusted into you, your ankles hooked around his lower back, and your body was desperate for release.

But you could also tell he was not going to last. His eyes were heavy, eyelids drawing shut with pleasure, fingers curling in the pillow next to you. Shoulders tensing and abdomen tight as he swiveled his hips, a broken moan falling between you. “Close,” he finally said, and dropped down to his elbows, so his face hovered above yours, only a hair away. “You feel so good, shit, oh my god—how do you feel so good?” His words were broken and that made them even better, that he had no control over what he was saying.

“Want you to come,” you babbled, “want to feel it, come on Harry, come for me, please, I need it.”

“Holy fuck—“ that had him snapping into you, hips slapping against yours, the sound of skin on skin overpowering the music that still played in the background. You gripped his shoulders when his head hung in the crook of your shoulder, and you knew he was about to come.

So you said one more thing. “I need you to come, Harry, please.” The words came out as a beg, exactly as you intended. His hips were stuttering immediately, curses falling between you like a broken record, repeating over and over again as he shot into the condom. He smattered kisses on your shoulder as he collapsed into you, sweat sticking to your skin.

He laid there for a second, panting, and you didn’t mind, even though you desperately needed to come. Perhaps it was how you clamped down on him, or you shifted your hips to feel slightly more of him, but Harry seemed to figure out what you needed. He lifted his head, took one look at you, and then pulled out, ripping off the condom and tossing it into his trash before crawling down your legs.

When his tongue licked your slit, you mewled his name, your hands moving into his hair immediately. You tugged and pulled on it as he licked over you, drawing circles that pulled desire from your flesh. And then he went inside, darting his deftly skilled tongue into you and practically thrusting it into you. His thumb brushed across your nub and you let our a shuddering moan, bucking up into his face. You were close—insanely close—the combination of his tongue inside of you and the thumb on your nub drawing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Harry,” you rasped, voice broken from panting. “I’m close.”

He seemed double his effort, tongue moving in and out of you at double time, his thumb brushing a brutal pace over you. You were twisting in his arms, hips bucking, curses leaving your lips. And when he pulled his thumb away and sucked on your clit, that’s when you came, in a mess of his name and broken gasps, choking on air. Your fingers curled tightly in his hair, anchoring his face to your center as you came, bucking up into him. He didn’t mind though, he just held your hips and took it, licking at you to draw out all of your aftershocks. Your eyes squeezed shut and your mind was a mess, swirling without the ability to grasp onto a single thread of thought, just a mess under his lips.

When you finally regained the ability to breathe, you pulled your hands from his hair and he sat up. You watched in awe as he licked his lips, gathering your juice, and swallowed them, a smile on his face. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re really good at that?”

He gave you a cocky expression and then flopped down next to you. “They have, in fact.”

“Good. I’d be concerned about the other girls if they hadn’t.”

He laughed, and then pulled you into his body. You were surprised at his desire to cuddle, but you weren’t mad. “You can stay if you want. There’s people downstairs still and it’s cold out.”

You propped your head up on his shoulder. “There’s also all those condoms.”

“That’s true. Wouldn’t want them to go to waste.”

You trailed your fingers up his torso. “Might have to just stay the whole weekend if we’re trying to use them all.”

His eyebrows quirked, but he wasn’t mad at the prospect. “Wanna be my study break for the weekend?”

You smirked, leaning up to quickly peck his lips. “As long as you’re mine.”

He hauled your body on top of his and curled his fingers into your hair. “We’ll get your shit in the morning, then.”

“It’s a deal.” You kissed him, lips slotting against one another, slower and less hurried than before, but that same undercurrent of desire stringing between you two. You were already grinding into him, hips brushing over his as you moved.

Suddenly, a pounding sound came from the door, and you froze. “Fuck off!” Harry called, pulling the comforter that had ended up at the bottom of the bed over the two of you.

“Fuck—sorry—I need a condom, man.” The words were muffled, but you heard them all the same.

Harry snorted, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Go ask Nick,” he replied, “and leave me the fuck alone.” His hands grabbed at you, kneading into your ass, and you licked at his nipple.

It was going to be a long weekend.

SEND ME CONCEPTS ABOUT Y/N AND HARRY!

#frat boy harry #frat boy au #frat boy fan fiction #Harry Styles #Harry Styles Fan Fiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles drabble #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing

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potteresque-ire · 4 years

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I’d like to talk a little about Gg Assistant fic… (Trigger warning: "Me Too” situation; obscene language)

This fic, understandably, has generated quite a bit of excitement among i-turtles because of certain scenes, because of its closeness in POV to what we call fake rumours today. This fic is also, admittedly, a legend among many c-turtles; believed to be first posted before the airing of The Untamed in one of the earliest BJYX forum thread that has since collapsed, the amount of truth hidden within its fanfic status has always been a point of curiosity—largely because the context of the posting was gone. “Fake rumours” (假料), as a genre, didn’t exist yet at the time of its publication, and so it has been referred to as one of the two legendary 助手文s — with 助手 meaning “assistant” and 文 meaning “essay” and likely referring to 同人文, or fan fiction.

For a long time, these 助手文s have largely been kept-in-the-dark candies, similar to certain BTS clips—discussions about them were forbidden on the BYJX supertopic. Moreover, they were candies so old that few new turtles knew about them … until last week, when the opening of the “Candy Analysis” board in the BJYX supertopic led to their “excavation”.

I’d like to talk about this fic because it is an example of a candy that can, or perhaps, has already hurt Gg seriously in subtle ways, though unlikely the intention of the fic’s writer and its propagators. As an example of a candy that we, as i-turtles, may want to think about what makes responsible candy consumption.

I shall not talk about the certain scenes; they’re not what compelled me to write this post —whatever they are, they fall well within the kind of things people outside Gd and Dd’s fandom expect CPFs to be interested in, to daydream about. Those scenes can be ten times wilder and no outsiders would bet an eye.

What I’d like to talk about is one verb that was mis-translated in the English version. That said, please do not take this post as an accusation against anyone—it’s difficult to incorporate full definitions within a translated story, and readers who didn’t pick up the nuance because of the mis-translation are, of course, not at fault in any way.

The verb in question is this one: …among the higher-ups someone wanted to provide for XZ…

In the original Chinese version, “to provide for” is 包養.

包養 is more than “to provide for”. It’s “to provide for” in exchange for exclusive sex service — the person providing the sponsorship would pay a monthly fee, and/or offer gifts of housing and transportation and other necessities, in exchange for exclusive rights to the sponsored ’s bed. It’s considered one of the better options within the “unspoken rule” (潛規則) that I briefly talked about in a previous post, in which (young and beautiful) entertainers are expected to sleep with those with commercial / political power to get opportunities and survive in the industry. It’s “Me too”, except those with power in the country in question have far more power than even the most powerful Hollywood executives do.

And here’s the thing I refrained from saying in the last post, that I’ve considered over the past day whether I should say anything about it at all. But I think i-turtles should know because as real person CPFs, we are often playing closer to the 4th wall than we think. I think i-turtles should know even if what I’ll say may be very upsetting, very difficult for some to hear, and I’d like to apologize ahead for the pain, the unease I may cause.

This is not the first time I read about the rumour that Gg was given the option to be “provided for” between the filming and airing of The Untamed—the assumed background being that his company was unwilling to invest any more in him, and so whether he’d get the resources he’d need would depend on how much of himself he was willing to trade.

And in some versions of these rumours I’ve read—those propagated by Anti’s after 227—Gg didn’t say no. Have any of you heard about WWYXSZD? It’s a play on, a mockery of BJYZSZD, with BJ substituted by the nickname of one of the owners of Gg’s management company, the man Gg supposedly said yes to. Antis are still spreading rumours about WWYXSZD today. I typed in the phrase on Weibo just now, and here’s a screenshot of the latest post I found (from only a few hours ago) under the WWYXSZD tag:

Translation: #WWYXSZD# WWYZ girls never admit failure. Today, did Aunt Zhan’s anus get thrust by WW again to the point of flowing pus? 😍😍

Please don’t ask why this kind of language is allowed on Weibo; it just is—I suppose it doesn’t contest the power of the ruling class in any way.

(Sorry if I sound a little short: this is upsetting.)

I don’t know where Antis got this idea about WWYXSZD. To be fair, Antis probably didn’t need anyone to give them this idea because the “unspoken rule” is very well-known and commonly believed to be rampant in c-ent, but I still wonder, I still think … is it possible that that one sentence in that Gg Assistant fic had given them the idea, or served as proof at some point that even some of Gg’s fans—the turtles—believe Gg was once given the option to be “provided for”?

“And a lot of people know...”, right? Isn’t that what the fic said? Look, on the week of spring equinox, 2021, some c- and i-turtles were rejoicing when they read the story. Doesn’t that confirm the fic is a candy?

And aren’t turtles the ones who both love Gg AND believe candies contain truths?

I suppose this is the question I wish for every turtle, myself included, to ponder a little more. This fic is now in our hands—how should we engage with it? It’s already got a halo—it’s a prized antique in turtledom; it’s legendary. From the language standpoint, it’s fairly well-written, which makes it especially convincing to those who’re not accustomed to fanfics.

As i-turtles, we don’t have supertopic rules; we’re each our own decision maker as to how we’d like to consume our candies. In some ways, our decisions also matter little, and so this is mostly a question of what we feel like is the right thing to do.

What if there’s no truth in the fic at all—then, are we giving Anti’s ammunition? They’re roaming in i-fandom too. We know that.

What if there’s some truth—which part of the fic has the truth, exactly? Is it where we want it to be? Is it worth it to want it to be there, simply for a sugar high in our imagination? Do we have control over which part is perceived as the truth by those outside the fandom?

What if there are real people behind this fic? What if this fic does allude to real events—events that, no matter who they happen to, are bound to be associated with humiliating, horrifying memories?

What answers to these questions do we want?

#pie metas #yizhan #bjyx

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sillyfudgemonkeys · 3 years

Note

Comic buff with a thought, I notice the P5MM art and composition is more striking and closer to p5's art and style than the other manga, which is fine, but kinda... flat. (I find myself thinking there's something missing when I read it, then I look back at P5MM and I notice how there's more clever paneling, imagery, and stylistic choices akin to the games in it (like that one goro panel ya had a rant about) and I realize what's missing) That could be why P5MM is brought up more, just a guess. I dunno how you feel about all that though, I'm curious.

Under the cut cause it gets long cause of pictures:

I am very big on art style and visual presentation. I do actually judge a book by it's cover (manga, game, movie, show, yadda). If I find something pleasing to my eye I'll read it.....even if the contents are trash. Domestic Girlfriend is one, horrible manga (didn't finish, was holding out for Momo, aka best girl, and getting closure for her....then I bounced). Didn't watch the anime (didn't need to I was way ahead in the manga I think), but I know that opening is wasted on it. ldskfjaf Don't invest your time into it, it's not worth it, you would probably learn better morals from P5.......probably. But yeah I found the art style pleasing enough to try it out (I's not amazing by any means, but I like looking at it....or did.....that writing man....dat was bad ;w;).... *waves hands vaguely in air* yeah.

Fun fact, it's why I got into Persona. I happened across an ad for P4 on the PS2 in the Gameinformer magazine, it showed a screenshot from an animated cutscene plus one of the fully body art for the chars and I was like "Yes this is my jam!" (which only doubled down when I read what it was about, and it was a murder mystery and the article also talked up "the mystery of the glasses" which fakldjsalkfs yeah). So yeah it really clicked for me.

Tbh it's why I'm probably going to get back into freaking Bleach, and it's why I got into it and Naruto over One Piece (I don't think I'll ever read ON I'm sorry). Tite Kubo has sexy art what can I say? Can't trust a thing that man writes now but eh. It's also the reason I read a lot of Shojo (and now Yuri) manga, cause their art style is usually what I find very appealing (even if I've read the same gd shojo love story just by a different name for the 1000th time, give me the flowers and sparkly eyes! they are my life blood!)

And I've mentioned I really like Saito's art style. I've (attempted) to color some of his pieces on top of animate some manga frames (most of which I haven't actually published......I...I should....get around to finishing those up....haha...aha....haaaa). I really like his art, it's pleasant. But even with good art, I can still see past it and see what BS it's peddling and it can hamper my enjoyment of it. If I don't look at the context of the scene or the words on the page, I can be down with it. But when I'm reading.......I get annoyed. I balk at anything with Goro. I guffaw whenever Makoto's on screen (cause Saito nails her from P5, she acts useful but really she's useless but the narrative views her as useful it ironically makes her useless......it's the weirdest thing I've ever witnessed >.>). Like Saito really.....gets P5 it seems, down to it's flaws even (tho he can actually make the good parts of P5 shine, or at least parts that P5 failed to execute....execute in a way). But he also makes the flaws.....shine that much harder for me.

Now the Reg manga? it's nothing special art style wise, in fact it starts off VERY wonky, and while still wonky, has gotten a lot....better/cuter (esp Ryu). Not like shojo cute just.......I wanna squish their wittle faces cute (at times when it's not serious).

Like when it comes to Reg Manga these are the two pieces that have appeared in it that I feel kinda hit the P5 mark in terms of style:

(look at Mona, coming into this world like the pustule that he is 8U)

Which isn't much, but it's something. At least Reg's AOA is better looking than the anime. 8U

But I dunno, as the chapters go on, the Mangaka allows for more cuter expressions, and I just like their neat:

(btw I colored that page)

I dunno, it's not as overtly cutsey as Saito:

But they are still charming in a more simple way (without out having them go full chibi), it subtle but it gives it flavor. "Silly why are most, if not all those pics of Ryu and Anne?" I dunno guys maybe you should ask them how their backs are doing, cause they're the ones who are carrying the Reg manga when it comes to this! 8U

Tho I do think the first ch or two of Reg does a better job capturing P5's feel than the rest of the chapters, I think the mangaka is just.....bogged down by exposition and the game's BS that a lot of text on their pages so it almost reads like a novel:

ALots of text, not the most dynamic of framing with the panels. It's kinda eh. I haven't really read the manga past the 2nd dungeon tbh (I mean......as the residential #1 Makoto hater, I think that's fair.....that I'd start to zone out during my least fav dungeon....and then continue zoning out during my 2nd least fav dungeon askfdjaflk)

But during the first two dungeon arcs, I liked how.....bad the PT were at thieving, I liked how green they were. It was obviously a learning process. I also like some of the fight choreo (Saito did the best hand to hand one in the series in P4U's Yu vs Sho....which I actually animated....spoiler.....no I have no released that...my dumbass wants to tempt fate and see if I can redo it in color even tho it took me 4 days non stop to get that animated in just black and white.....but I am a fool so alas 8U). I mean it's not mind blowing, but it was simple and decently thought out, which is more than I feel like we usually get (esp with the anime shows....or at least P4/5's).

But I think what draws me in is....it's lack of P5 style. P5 style has them being still oh so cool despite being new at everything. It's tired me out. P5's how identity is style. It's....style over substance (gonna rile some feathers with that....Cvit(?) vid title). But P5 is overtly stylish, to the point it......weighs on me. Drags me down. Tires me out. I don't think they're cool, I'm bored with it. Ironically, Reg manga lacks that, which......def would make someone (and me usually) give it much of a passing glance. It's very basic I guess. But.....consider me, being in P5 hell, surrounded by all it's nausea inducing stylishness, sees a small break in the hellish hurricane to see.......normalcy. It kinda makes me connect better with the kids (kinda, it's still P5).

They feel like normal kids, trying to do their thing (sometimes trying to look/act cool and failing), and.....it's just the absolute antitheses to P5's brand......and I think that's why I like it. KLFJDSAFLKJA;

Anyway, who knows, maybe when I catch up on Reg in english and re-read MM with the official translation I might change my mind about a few things, or at least how I rank them. But for post length sake, and my sanity sake, I think I should keep the anime and mangas out of the "Which entry do you hate least" post......because I should just make another post where I go into both mangas as well as compare and contrast the anime! :D I'm just delaying some insanity for later haha....

Wait.........I just remember Day Breakers exists......and I liked it....still do....don't have much issue with it. Well shit, that is probably the one entry I hate the least. fklsdjfalkjdfkla;jsL;FJljsfdlskafaj *sobs* nO NO, I committed, and that's just a sad loophole. fdklsajflakfj *sobs* I still need to the game thing, cause let's be honest, the games are where it counts.

So right now my ranking for manga/anime is:

Daybreakers>Reg manga> MM>>>>>>>>>>TV Show Anime and it's OVAs (may the burn in the hell fire from which they spawned)

Oh, one last thing, forgot to put it in but I dunno where to put it now. I like how the manga tones down the pervyness some:

I mean Ryu is a fellow monkey. u_u .......but it's for the best I don't have to see his ape expression. ;w; (iirc the pyramid scene was a lot shorter/faster, but that's by the grace of reading and books rather than animation I suppose).

#silly asks #silly answers #i can't believe day breakers is what I hate least dfkjsalfjaf

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secondratefiction · 4 years

Note

Ok look that escort anon can be solely blamed for asking Steve's reaction towards someone loudly saying that his s/o is a escort at one of Tony's parties please

- This is the first time you're going out publicly to something like this with Steve. You've actually been together for quite some time actually, but neither of you were quiet sure about going quite that public.

- But it was going to happen sometime, and you finally decided better sooner than later.

- Tony... certainly knows how to throw a party. There's so many lights, and cameras, and people everywhere, it's honestly a little overwhelming.

- You end up holding on to Steve's arm most of the night a little desperately, though you really hope it doesn't look that way... It's just all a bit much to take in.

- Unfortunately, Steve and his team are in fact here for a reason and he does have to step away for a few moments for some photo opportunities with the other Avengers.

- His enthusiasm about the whole affair is tangible. The pleading look he shoots you over Thor's shoulder almost makes you laugh out loud.

- You were standing off on your own, Pepper having just stopped by to check on you, when he approached you.

- You couldn't really place him, but you had the vaguest sense you'd seen him throughout the night at some point. He smiled at you and swayed a little but where he stood.

- Oh good. He was drunk. This should be fine.

"Should have known with a pretty thing like you."

"I'm sorry, what?"

- He makes the mistake of stumbling towards you just as Steve is coming back to collect you, grabbing you harshly by your upper arm.

"So how much does Captain America pay for his girls anywa-"

- His hand is snatched back and he's tossed away so fast he stumbles and skids across the floor as he falls. Steve looks like he's prepared to rip each of this man's limbs off one at a time and beat him with them.

- Does Steve actually speak Gaeilge, or is that something I just picked up from fandom? Doesn't matter. This man is swearing twelve ways to Sunday in English, German, and Gaeilge.

- This is not a scene, this is a public execution by words.

- The only person not surprised here is Bucky, and right now he's torn between wanting to back is buddy, and laughing so gd hard he's gonna pull something.

- After several very long moments, and Pepper hissing in his ear to get ahold of the situation, Tony gets the crowds attention. Leaving Pepper to have the now black listed guest escorted out by security, and you to try and wrangle a still seething Steve Rodgers out of the room.

- The two of you don't come back for the rest of the evening.

- Bucky did in fact pull something, and Sam, unhappily, gets put in charge of seeing him out safely as well.

#marvel #avengers #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #mcu #reader insert #requests

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annqbthchse · 4 years

Text

A potential rewrite of “Beauty and the Feasts”

@pumpkinpaperweight mentioned this in her “No Nuance November” hot takes post and it reminded me of how I’ve completely rewritten this in my head.

Now, I feel that I have to say that I liked the IDEA of this chapter. That it was supposed to be a calm chapter amid the what the fuckness that was QFG. A pause in the ever confusing narrative to allow both the readers and characters to catch up on what’s happened so far if you will. However, I hate the execution of it. So much in fact that I have completely forgotten what happens in canon so heres an outline of what I’ve decided happens in my head instead :D

Ok I haTED how Lancelot has just died (in a pretty traumatic way too) and the gangs just kinda move on and forget about him except for that split second scene w. Guinevere - it's a total disservice to his character and the bond he was beginning to build back up with Tedros

SO how bout instead both Lancelot and tedros survive the attack by the snake

That way we get a scene of happy reunions - Agatha with tedros & Lancelot (of whom she presumably hasn’t seen since the coronation as well) -and so we have a genuinely happy(ish) scene that isn’t punctured by tedros losing another parental figure yet again

They’re all in a good mood and want to celebrate etc

Lancelot and Tedros have this moment where they’re talking about their last fight with the snake

Lancelot says all this stuff about how proud of Tedros he is (but in his own special, unique Lancelot way which means he never uses those exact words)

Agatha and Lancelot reunion!!! He says how he's missed the lass and makes some kind of joke about tedros being an ass about how he ignored her those 6 months - they laugh. tedros doesn't. He gives her one of his giant bear hugs (lancelot would give great hugs prove me wrong)

Rhian comes up to Lancelot being all “you’re my hero 😩 ” “ilysm” etc etc

being the the only character with a braincell Lance just kinda stares at him like “uhhh… aight thanks man” - hes a little sus of this weird lil red head but will obviously take the compliment because he deserves it

Lance is then all like “ahh you kids should celebrate this win” or some other bullshit like that and they do

but before everyone dissolves to get ready tedros and lance share one final moment where they share astrong handshake and lock eyes then hug because fuck it, why not? It would be a quick hug but I want them to hug in their final moment together dammit

Agatha wears that red dress soman wrote in and tedros wears a crisp black shirt with a chest slit ;) - (idk exactly what he wore during this scene but I do remember thinking that it was horribly ugly and that MY tedros would never wear that so here, have this very basic description of mens wear)

Instead of going to beauty and the feasts they go to Maid Marions arrow (because I say so and for reasons I can’t really explain I just hate that gd restaurant) - (it also just seems like the inside of Somans mind and I think that is a very scary place to be rn)

Anyway, they’re all having a hullabaloo of a time - everyones drinking and celebrating - ofc Lancelot, robin hood and his merry men are all there too

At one point tedros convinces agatha to dance - she begrudgingly agrees - it’s an unconventional dance with a lot of fast spins and movements - they’re both laughing, she tells him to slow down. he does not. they continue :)

Meanwhile Sophie still offers Rhian to take her on a date they also go to Maid Marions arrow as well because again I say so - they have their date, sophie is smitten, rhians plan is working

I also hate the idea of dot being drugged (poor babe didn’t deserve that) and so instead they gave lance the keys to the cell seeing as he’s the only reliable adut in a 50mile radius

Instead Dot is dancing with beatrix, reena and some other evergirls while Hestadil are still having their cute marshmallow moment together outside

tagatha are still having a great time on their first (???) date - they decide to go back to their private treehouse a bit earlier than everyone else and ill just leave what happens after that to you shall I? ;)

ANYWAYS as they’re leaving robin notes how much they remind him of Arthur and that hot lady who hung out together that night before Arthurs wedding

Lance is just like “????? tf” because it couldn’t have been Gwen given they were probably together that night - but robin fucks off before he could press him on it any further so lance just kinda leaves it for the morning…

He also notices Rhian briefly leave and since he already found the lad to be a bit sus before, he follows him to overhear Rhian speaking to Kei about the plans and is just like SHITE and goes to tell the rest of the gang that Rhian is weird as fuck

BUT then the snake appears… and lance, kei and snake boy disaper into the forest while rhian heads back to the bar to keep up his facade (i know this bit doesn’t really make sense because how the fuck is the snake there without the key that lance is yet to give them… idk man just humour me ok)

Everyone has a great rest of night and just assume lance went to bed early since hes old… but instead they wake to find Lancelot dead - his throat slashed, blood everywhere and he’s pinned against a tree and its just not a pretty sight

The snake has written a message on his chest in blood saying “your fault” - obvioulsy for our good ol’ friend teddy

Meanwhile, Tagatha is just sleeping in bed, when theres a knock - its the coven trying to break the news of Lancelots death

Tedros freaks the fuck out and runs to cradle Lancelot’s dead body - Agatha's right behind him and ready to cradle tedros while he cries his heart out with everyone standing around watching

They have a funeral (idk why but I just picture a Viking type one with them sending him off on the lake at sunset - its all very aesthetic dw)

after that, everyone starts to leave to get shit ready for the journey to Camelot but tedros is left just still sitting there with Agatha for a lil bit longer

They then very slowly get up and make their way for the boat to head back to Camelot

#sge #The School for Good and Evil #school for good and evil #my posts #my aus #sir lancelot #rewrite #was this a mistae?#idk #i only edited the bits where I said daddy lance #it’s like nearly midnight so #I take 0 responsibility for everything I have said #enjoy this brain explosion of words :D #I just believe in lance supremacy ok

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and-the-world-is-quiet-here · 4 years

Text

Live 2020 debate commentary from a salty, disabled, and VERY pissed gen Z

Yall he just said he’s immune

My dad just left the room

Bitch are u saying Johnson and Johnson is going to make the vaccine?

sir that’s the diaper company…..smh

Biden just said its going to be a dark winter

#winter is coming

“virus.....that came from china” -trump 2020

“were learning to live with it”-trump 2020

apparently “Biden lives in his basement”-your president 2020

totally accurate.....obviously

ohhhh biden just said were learning to die with it

trump interrupted biden

Mam I thought you said you were muting them?

biden laugh count at 3

he all about the once percent till its the dead ones

trump interrupting at 3...nvm its now 4

this debate is making my dog sad

interrupting now at 5 for trump

trump saying his young sons illness just “went away”

bitch he’s may age and no it did not just “go away”

he was in quarantine for two weeks

apparently nyc is a ghost town

its not a ghost town trump I live right next to it

loudest neighbors ever

trump don’t call him Anthony

his name is DOCTOR Fauci

treat him with the respect he deserves

Biden looks so sad

nvm he legit looks like the joker right now

HALFWAY MARKKK

why is this at 9?

sir its a school night

I need time to scroll through my feed for hours before collapsing

Biden don’t use the word sovereignty

trump doesn't know what it means

thats discrimination against trumps

ohhh hes attacking hunter (biden) again

so he has a wee drug problem?

at this point everyone got one!

your the one making lewd comments about your infant daughter on national tv

(look it up he talks about his 6 month old daughters legs but and breasts)

get him big b!!

h876689908776- my dog 2020

he wants to express his disappointment

the light boxs is stealing his mother attention

ohh hes being rude to the moderator again

u a strong independent Indian woman get him girll!

mute his mike

prty plz

I am dissapionted in you

he’s saying he’s not allowed to release his taxs

(that is a proven lie)

“i was put through a phony witch hunt”- you'll never guess 2020

hes going after his BROTHER now

how is this allowed?

who decided trumps strategy would be to accuse his opponent of his own crimes?

look at the insults guys its a crystal ball

stay ahead of the scandal's

WILL YOU LEAVE HIS SON ALONE PLEASE

THESE ARE HIS CHILDREN LEAVE THEM ALONE

“i was a business man doing business”-trump 2020

no sir you were another rich white guy taking advantage of tax brakes and cheap foreign labor in asia

#american jobs as long as i don’t have to pay minimum wage

#you know like a DECENT FUCKING PERSON

Trump interrupted again

I lost count a while ago

Biden is staring into my soul

oh Biden just played the middle class childhood card

I haven't heard a single mute so far?

trump just said his bromance with kim jung un saved america from nuclear war

dont through my boy Obama under the bus

and another interruption

my big bro just screamed “MUTE BUTTON MUTE BUTTON MUTE BUTTON”

honestly same

10 more min guys

hang in there

OHHH trump just got MUTEDDDDDD

Biden is now on legitimate policy

ahhh hes proud of his plan

annd trump just interrupted

trump just kissed up to the moderator

trump just said biden’s more liberal than bernie

ohhh

biden just said trump dosent know who hes running against

hes like “this is joe biden”

like I know bro but slick burn anyway

ohhh they muted trump again!!!!

perfect opportunity to mute missed

trump just blamed healthcare issues on nancy peloski

biden says the the republicans wont pass it

(btw hes actualy right)

2 mins left

and trump is speaking through it

1 min left

omg what a waste of air

I really want him to test his “immunity”

preferably during a harsh winter

ITS TEN GUYSSS

there running over

they still haven't covered immigration

shit

I have just learned there is 30 min left

I think I would rather kill myself than watch the rest of this

I’m seriously have a sensory overload right now

I’m doing this for u

“children are brought here by coyotes”-presedentail cown 2020

what a wack ass sentence

hes like ohIi haven't been putting kids in cages

and then just went but I didn't build them they were built in 2014

(contradiction much)

“who built the cages”

yes it was Obama but guess what

THEY WERNT BUILT FOR KIDS

there ment to house animals, evidence, and adult prisoners in emergency situations

THEY WERNT MENT FOR 3 YEAR OLDS

Biden was just like “well no actually kids come with PARENTS”

(kids hardly ever come over with out parents)

and then he was like and also WHO LOST TRACK OF OVER 1,000 PARENTS

(thats 500+ new orphans at the least)

hes saying only the illegal immigrants with the lowest IQs come back after being deported

we said the same thing in december about you but ya’know

my mum was like “anyone eating chocolate” and I was like “im snaking on this ignorance” and she was like “dont do that you'll get indigestion”

“no one has done more for the black community then Donald trump except for maybe Abraham Lincoln”

oh yeah Biden just brought up how trump publicly campaigned for the execution of the central park 5

WHO WERE CHILDREN

AND OH YEAH THEY WERE COMPLETELY INNOCENT

trump just yelled at Biden, got muted, and just yelled louder

trump just said he cant see the audience but hes the least racist person in the room

“Abraham lincoln here is one of the most racist presidents in american history”- biden 2020

biden just went “oh god”

he just said that he used to not support the blm movement because they chanted rude things about police officers

I would like to reiterate that “pigs in a blanket” has never been chanted in a protest or been a prominent statement in the blm movement nor “fry em like bacon” so what trump is saying is factually incorrect

unless hes on some sort of far right conservative twitter feed were he came across a video of some drunk white college kids chanting it

but you know what ever fits you narrative

plus I would be pretty pissed if I kept getting shot at for no reason so....

Biden making more logical decisions

trump was like why have you never done all this stuff when you were vice president

“we had a republican congress” -biden 2020

we have the cleanest air

we have the cleanest crystal clear water

sir, i know you've been to mexico

don’t lie

the waters gorges down there

and not owned by your smug ass

trump just called china filthy

so you know....

*whispers* racism

ok 5 min left

for real this time

trump just went “aoc plus 3: and then hes like she knows nothing about the climate

ummm.... you dont even believe in climate change

bidens like “are....is...is is”

good for you

correcting your grammar

trump just said “the wind kills all the birds” out of the godamn blue

(he means wind mills and its untrue)

“Whats the next question baba”

“the final question is leadership which he doesnt have”- baba 2020

I feel bad for anybody watching this on the toilet

bidens starring into your soul

he knows what your doing

there officially overtime

its 10 33

they haven't even done the last section yet

btw ITS A SCHOOL NIGHT

why do they host these so late

I should be pretending to be asleep right now

this is generational discrimination

plus trumps supporters are so old there asleep by now

ohhhh its over

1036 final time

okay so thoughts....I generally dont like the party system i think its ridiculous the system was not designed for it, and its now more about loyalty then the actual candidates. I also am really hesitant to put another strait white male in the oval office, especially one thats from “the lucky few” I.E. the smallest voting generation in the country and also the one that already holds the most positions. That being said, at this point its really anyone but trump and I think bidens got the experience to turn things around.

I AM IN SCHOOL I CANNOT VOTE. I am relying on all my older friends, followers, neighbors, and community members. To make an educated decision that wont further degrade the once hopeful future my generation awaits. Please if you can vote VOTE the kids are relying on you!

P.S. sorry i wasn't able to edit this earlier i struggle alot with spelling and didnt have the time to edit this because I HAD TO GO TO BED AND THEN GO TO SCHOOL. Why am I more politically active then people twice my age you might ask? Well, thats because adults are lazy and need to get of their gd asses and VOTE. So kids dont have to do the legwork for them.

I have said my peace now, have a wonderful day!

#2020 #election #covid #trump #biden #debate #byedon #flyden 2020

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obsessedwithbbandsuju · 5 years

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Son Taeyeon Masterlist

*This is my default information on Taeyeon; however, most of it can change based on the scenario (AUs)

*Faceclaim is Kim Taeyeon of SNSD (quite obviously for anyone who’s into kpop)

*All of the ages in this timeline are in South-Korean reckoning, which generally means the people are two years older than they would be in western reckoning if the day of their birthday has not passed for the current year, and one year older than they would be in western reckoning of the day of their birthday has passed for that current year

*Last Updated: 7/19/20

Stage Name: Taeyeon (태연)

Birth Name: Son Taeyeon (손태연)

English Name: Aleah

Group: Pandora // Solo

Other Members: Park Soojin, Han Yuna, Lee Sunbin, Park Minhee

Subunit(s): Arcana (with G-Dragon), Vanitas (with Soojin)

Position: Leader, Main Rapper, Main Dancer, Center/Face of the Group, Vocalist

Agency: YG Entertainment

Birthdate: August 26th, 1993

Debut Date: October 17th, 2006

Zodiac Sign: Virgo

Height: 157 cm (5’3″)

Weight: 43 kg (94 lbs)

Blood Type: A

Nationality: South Korean

Father: Son Chiwon (deceased)

Mother: Lee Jiyu (deceased)

Brother: Son Taeyong [younger by one year]

Facts

Taeyeon was born in Seoul, South Korea and lived there until age 5, when her mother passed away from cardiac arrest, moving away to America (more specifically, Los Angeles) with her father, who was a neurologist, and her younger brother

During the time she was in Korea, she was childhood friends with G-Dragon of Bigbang, but they lost contact after she moved

Taeyeon wanted to be a criminal profiler during her childhood

Since she was young, her father instilled in her the idea of always doing her very best at everything, to the point of surpassing her limits

When she was ten, her father was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, and she began to worry about how she would care for herself and Taeyong if he died

With that worry in mind, Taeyeon in 2004 participated in a singing competition in which YG Entertainment executives were attending; winning first place, she was scouted by them and auditioned

She auditioned by singing Uhm Jung Hwa’s Rose of Betrayal, rapping to H.O.T.’s Warrior’s Descendant, and dancing to BoA’s Amazing Kiss, and passed

When she gave the news to her father, he disapproved and told her he was going nowhere so she’d have to stay, but Taeyeon responded that she would go on her own

In late 2004, Taeyeon moved to South Korea and lived in the dormitory that YG provided

She requested that half of the funding she received from YGE as a trainee went to her family in America as to make money for Taeyong and her father until her debut

She met Soojin in 2004, when they were both twelve years old (in South Korean age) and became friends with her; upon joining YGE, she found out that Soojin was under the company as well

Taeyeon and Soojin spent their trainee days together

As a trainee, Taeyeon reunited with GD and also met Taeyang, T.O.P, Daesung, and Seungri

She rekindled her friendship with GD soon after entering YGE and also became close with the other Bigbang members

She met Yuna, Sunbin, and Minhee in early 2006

Three months before her debut, her father passed away from his pancreatic cancer

After their father’s death, Taeyeon brought Taeyong to Korea, where he unexpectedly joined YG Entertainment as an actor trainee

Taeyeon lived in the dorms with her fellow members during her teenage years

Taeyeon is a fan of BoA, Sechskies and Super Junior; she’s also a giant fan of actress Kim Seohyung

Taeyeon is considered one of the youngest idols to ever debut since she was fourteen (in terms of South Korean age) when Pandora debuted

Taeyeon and Taeyong have a very close relationship due to their father being emotionally distant during their childhood; Taeyong once said that she was both an older sister and a mother figure to him

According to Taeyong, during their teen years, Taeyeon would walk him to school, make sure he ate and slept properly, and help him with his studies, no matter how busy she got; when they were younger she also told off his classmates for picking on him

Because she looked after Taeyong since a young age, Taeyeon is very used to taking care of others and is noted to be mature; Pandora’s other members agree that she is the “parent” of the group, GD stated that she’s great at taking care of others, and Heechul once remarked that despite being much younger than the SuJu members, when they meet she acts like an older sister sometimes

It was because she had to take care of Taeyong that Taeyeon was so determined to become an idol at such a young age; otherwise, she didn’t know how she could look after him, and their father’s death made her even more resolved to be successful

She had her first relationship was when she was sixteen, with a girl the same age as her named Yeon Hyunjung, who eventually broke up with her after about a year

(i) She featured in Bigbang’s Let’s Not Fall In Love MV as GD’s love interest; many people commented that their acting and chemistry were extremely natural, to the point where the dating rumors that had died down started again

(ii) She composed, wrote, and produced the title song for Super Junior’s Mamacita album, Mamacita, as well as the side tracks of the album: Hit Me Up, Islands, and Evanesce

Taeyeon was honored and flattered to compose for and worth with a senior group

(iii) She featured as the “devil” in Super Junior’s Devil MV; according to her, it was funny because by the time of the music video, she was friends with Leeteuk, Heechul, Eunhyuk, Donghae, Ryeowook, and Kyuhyun, but not particularly close with the other members, which made things somewhat awkward during the more touchy scenes

She was a member of the 2017-2018 reality TV show Borrow Trouble Season 2 and the 2018 reality TV show Why Not The Dancer

Taeyeon has worked as a director for Pandora’s concerts since 2015

In addition to being an idol, Taeyeon has starred in a few dramas and movies; (iv) her most well-known roles are Yeon Min-jung in the 2014 MBC drama Jang Bori Is Here, Lee Nayeon/Baek Dohui in the 2016 KBS drama The Promise, Min Chaerin in the 2018 MBC drama Hide and Seek, Yeo Dakyung in the 2020 JTBC drama The World of the Married, and Izumi Hideko in the 2016 film The Handmaiden

Taeyeon works as an emcee occasionally, although she doesn’t often take part in big or long-running shows

She owns a clothing brand called D’apchier, which began as an online store to sell designs that she produces for fun, but it boomed in Korea, Japan, and China and developed it into a full brand

Taeyeon also owns a sushi restaurant on Jeju Island

She is a Chanel brand ambassador

Taeyeon is very comfortable sleeping in the same room or even on the same bed as close male friends because she always slept in the same bed as Taeyong to comfort him since they were young

The other members of Pandora are like sisters to her, because she’s known and worked with them for so long

Taeyeon says that if she could date any of her members, she would date Soojin; the other members also joke that the two of them are in love, which Taeyeon and Soojin like to playfully affirm by saying, “We’re desperate for each other.”

The Bigbang members are like brothers to her

She sometimes jokingly calls T.O.P. and Taeyang “hyung”

Out of Bigbang, Taeyeon thinks Taeyang would be the best husband

Taeyeon and GD half-jokingly refer to the other as "my soulmate”

They call each other this and are partially serious about it because they consider each other to be the person who understands them best thanks to their many similarities

She is friends with all of Super Junior from working with them with the exception of Hangeng, Zhoumi, and Henry, but she’s especially close to Heechul, Leeteuk, Yesung, Eunhyuk, Donghae, Ryeowook, and Kyuhyun

She became friends with Heechul in 2009 when they emceed together during Inkigayo; Leeteuk, Shindong, Sungmin, Eunhyuk, Donghae, Siwon, Ryeowook, and Kyuhyun in 2014 when she worked with them for SJ’s MAMACITA album; Yesung in 2015 during her feature as the “devil” in SJ’s Devil MV

Because of how close they are, Heechul likes to jokingly ask her to marry him to which she jokingly responds that she’ll think about it

The two also like to link arms while walking and call each other “honey”, “my man”/”my woman”

Heechul has a signature nickname for Taeyeon – “devil” – because of how crafty she is, according to him, and Taeyeon has a signature nickname for Heechul – “nutcase” – for obvious reasons, she says

She is friends with Jessica Ho, better known as Jessi, a solo artist

Taeyeon is close with both 2NE1 and Blackpink, especially CL from the former and Rosé from the latter

Taeyeon is friendly with Sunny, Hyoyeon, and Sooyoung of SNSD, and former member Jessica; her shared name with SNSD’s Taeyeon is running joke

She’s also acquainted with all of SHINee’s members and friends with Key and Taemin

Taeyeon has been friends with Song Mino of Winner - also the same age as her - since he joined YGE, because both of them enjoy rap so much

She is also friends with the comedian Yoo Jaesuk

Taeyeon is rather friendly with Rihanna and Beyoncé, both of whom she met while working internationally

Taeyeon loves to write and compose songs, a shared passion that helped in re-establishing her friendship with GD

Taeyeon writes and composes her group’s tracks, sometimes with the other members’ help, and writes and composes all her solo discography; she also writes, composes, and produces other groups’ discography

She had a hand in the lyrics and production of 2NE1′s hit song I Am The Best

According to the other members of Pandora, Taeyeon guides the group, is the strictest one out of them all, has high expectations for her members and those that she works with, and is very meticulous; she also prefers to keep a distinct line between work and personal matters

This is why Taeyeon makes sure to clarify that she and the other members gathered together to work, although they love each other after so long together – therefore, internal or personal disagreements have no place interfering with or threatening their continued existence as a group

What complements and softens her strictness and natural exigence, however, the members and others around her say, is that she’s “warm-hearted” and takes good care of everyone that she works with; also, the results of her attention to detail are almost always very good, making the payoff worthwhile

Taeyeon is an excellent cook

She's an excellent driver and can adjust quickly to driving unfamiliar cars, as seen when she appeared on Running Man

In college, Taeyeon double-majored in neuroscience and anthropology

She and Soojin attended the same college

Taeyeon has a wide range of interests, but she admits that sometimes it’s not a good trait, since it often prevents her from focusing properly on any one topic

By nature she loves to learn, even if what she knows never has any practical application, so she often tries random things for fun; it often annoyed her members when they lived together in their dorm

The other members of Pandora are at a consensus that the most apt way to describe Taeyeon is a ‘renaissance man’ (much to her chagrin)

Her most treasured possession is her wide collection of books

Some of Taeyeon’s favorite books are We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson, No Longer Human by Dazai Osamu, Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky, Demian by Hermann Hesse, Unfinished Tales by J.R.R. Tolkien, The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien, The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms by NK Jemison, Circe by Madeline Miller, The Devil Aspect by Craig Russell, The Silence of the Girls by Pat Barker, Fox Girl by Nora Okja Keller, and Paradise Lost by Milton

She also loves the webnovels Èr Hā Hé Tā De Bái Māo Shī Zūn by Meatbun Doesn’t Eat Meat and Tian Guan Ci Fu by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu

Taeyeon enjoys learning about mythology, particularly Greek and Norse mythology

Taeyeon has an IQ of 189, and consistently maintained the number one spot in her class during her time in university

Out of all the members of Pandora, Taeyeon is the worst at taking photos

She’s also the worst at doing makeup since she rarely wears it outside of work

A complete homebody, when Taeyeon isn’t at work, she’s usually in her house, either working or, according to Soojin, “learning about random new things that will never be relevant to her life”

She and Soojin both agree that extreme sports seem fun and love trying them when the opportunity comes on variety shows

She has played the piano, violin, and guitar since childhood, but has also picked up the cello and flute

Her favorite variety shows are Running Man, Radio Star, Knowing Bros, SNL Korea, and Super TV/Super TV2

She learns choreography the fastest of the Pandora members – about a few hours if she works nonstop

Taeyeon is introverted and has a “naturally calm” personality (according to Heechul); she’s more playful with people she trusts and is close to

The people close to her attest that she has excellent self-control and rarely ever loses her cool, to the point where it’s sometimes almost freaky, and that when she’s angry, she speaks calmly; in Yuna’s opinion, that makes it scarier

When a disagreement occurs, Taeyeon’s method of resolving is almost always to sit with the opponent and talk it out; because of this, she’s Pandora’s go-to problem solver

Taeyeon is agnostic

She believes in aliens because she thinks it’s unlikely that Earth is the only planet in the universe able to sustain life; she thinks ghosts might be real, but if they are, not all of them are malicious or looking to frighten people

She learned Muay Thai since a young age at her father’s strict commands, since he wanted her to be able to defend herself; that learning came in handy when, in 2010, a man tried to kidnap Sunbin and Taeyeon managed to delay him long enough for the bodyguards to restrain him

Her MBTI type is INTJ

Minhee once commented that it’s frustrating to get in an argument with her because of how relentlessly logical she is

She’s very openminded when it comes to differences of opinion, as long as those differences can be well-supported rationally

Taeyeon is bisexual and an LGBTQ+ supporter

Taeyeon is known for being witty and having quick reactions during verbal banter, resulting in her popularity in variety shows; on top of this, she’s not afraid to make the hosts a victim of her wit, either

Heechul, GD, Soojin, and Minhee all attest that she’s also as witty off-screen

When she goes on variety shows with other Pandora members, she usually becomes less talkative because she likes watching what they do on screen, but she steps in when she feels like it could help her members

She doesn’t follow a strict diet due to her fast metabolism, but opts to avoid certain foods and exercise often for health reasons; because of this, she’s a fast runner and is also good at sit-ups

She’s the most flexible member of Pandora

Taeyeon has great lower-body strength, lifting Kim Gura on her back and walking for a few seconds in Radio Star, and lifting Eunhyuk on her back and walking for a few seconds in Strong Heart

Taeyeon is ambidextrous, but slightly favors her left hand

Her favorite food is jjampong, but soondae and kimchi japchae also come close

She can hold her alcohol well, but she doesn’t drink often because it’s bad for her health

She’s a night person and in fact states that she feels more alert when the sun is down

Her favorite animal is the leopard; she’s just been fascinated with them since childhood

As seen on variety shows, Taeyeon has an extremely competitive side because she genuinely enjoys challenges

She’s very good at holding in her laughter

Leeteuk compares her sense of humor to that of Ryeowook or Kyuhyun of Super Junior – teasing and sharp

She’s very firm when she’s talking about serious matters, which is why she’s Pandora’s main representative for negotiations with the company – leading to her nickname “Manager Taeyeon”

Taeyeon is generally a very straightforward person with regards to most things; for example, she’s not the type to hide it if she’s interested in someone else unless there are specific circumstances holding her back, despite the fact that she’s good at hiding her feelings

Sometimes, though, Taeyeon likes to make her feelings obvious as a way of flirting

She treats romantic relationships seriously and tends to meet the same person for a long time, but ironically, she’s good at casually flirting

According to Soojin, Taeyeon is the type to retain her independence and life even in the midst of a relationship, and not someone who obsesses over her partner

She can, however, be very protective of the people that she cares about, and holds intense grudges against anyone who hurts them

She’s prone to keeping her problems to herself, which can sometimes lead to misunderstandings between her and people who are close to her

Taeyeon since childhood has always been rather pessimistic and often imagines the worst-case scenario; as a result, she worried quite a lot, and can sometimes be draining to be around

Taeyeon suffers from depression, but no one would guess unless they knew her well because she makes sure to stay lively and witty unless she’s with people she’s really close to

Taeyeon is and has been a perfectionist since childhood; she is known as a “complete workaholic”, since the majority of her time is spent working in any way that she can (writing lyrics, composing music, designing, etc.)

Her perfectionist nature was only exacerbated by both her father and aunt, who had very high expectations of everything she did

The people close to her attest that she works on one thing or another when any spare time presents itself – in the car, in the waiting room, during hair and makeup preparations, etc.

Because she is such a perfectionist, Taeyeon is somewhat of a control freak; it makes her intensely uncomfortable to lose control of things relevant in her life

This is part of the reason why she insists on participating in every aspect of Pandora’s or her solo discography, including writing, composing, producing, choreography, and directing; it’s still mainly because she has a passion for expressing herself through music, but she also feels anxious if she doesn’t touch on everything

Taeyeon isn’t one to be bothered by hate and likes to read anti comments to get ideas from them, saying that many she comes across are actually very witty

Taeyeon remembers a bit about her mother and thinks about her often; she wonders how her mother would feel to see where she is now, how her mother would feel about her still complicated feelings about her father, and how her life might have changed if her mother had lived

She thinks that her love for reading and writing came from her mother, who read to her every day when she was young

Publically, Taeyeon vaguely admitted that she “felt awkward” around her father up until his death; in truth, though, part of her resented and still resents him for never being there for either her or Taeyong

However, her father still occupies her thoughts, and the unresolved state of their relationship makes it even harder for her to forget him; (v) Her songs Fine and Time Lapse, which she wrote and had a hand in composing and producing, was largely based on her feelings toward him

In Taeyeon’s opinion, she inherited a lot of her father’s traits, namely his workaholic tendencies, perfectionist attitude, love for learning, and his pessimism and tendency to distance himself emotionally

Taeyeon is noted for having a wide variety of concepts when it comes to the songs she writes, composes, and performs; while YG is mainly known for its hip-hop and Taeyeon has gone that route several times, too, she also tends to experiment

Because of this tendency to be experimental, Taeyeon and the rest of Pandora have been noted for being “concept chameleons” by some

When asked if all the songs are from personal experience, Taeyeon replied: “No, not exactly. Some of them are, but others... I like to make up stories and characters in my head and experience things vicariously through those characters that I can’t experience in reality. Some of my compositions’ lyrics come from that, too. It’s kind of odd, but in the end I see it as another form of expression.”

Because of her interest in linguistics, Taeyeon enjoys learning new languages

Taeyeon can speak English (from growing up in America), Korean (from her time in Korea and taught to her extensively by her father), Mandarin (learned during work abroad), Japanese (learned during work abroad), and Spanish (learned in school and during work abroad) fluently; she’s good at Thai and French, and knows some German, Italian, Filipino, and Russian

Taeyeon firmly believes that men and women can be friends, since many of her good friends are male

She's had a lot of dating rumors because she has numerous male friends, although people have accepted now that many of them are just that - friends

When Arcana first debuted, there was an explosion of dating rumors about her and GD, thanks to their chemistry, close relationship, and numerous interactions on/off camera

She is also shipped frequently with the other Bigbang members, most often Daesung and Taeyang (until he got married), due to their interactions on variety shows and award shows

On top of this, Taeyeon is often shipped with Super Junior members –mostly Heechul, Leeteuk, and Eunhyuk – due to being especially close with them despite being under different companies; they are often seen interacting behind cameras or at music broadcasts, and enthusiastically enjoying each other’s performances

Taeyeon is a somewhat controversial figure in South Korea because she (and the rest of the Pandora members) is more outspoken about her concerns regarding the double standards against women in the industry as opposed to men, as well as South Korea’s sexism in general; she has also delved into topics such as LGBTQ rights and the stigma against idols dating

Taeyeon’s ideal type: “Honestly, I don’t really have one. My basic requirements for a relationship are that we love each other, respect each other, and enjoy each other’s company. I think things like ‘ideal type’ complicate matters. I do like humor in a partner, though.”

Kwon Jiyong/Son Taeyeon

— General Information

— Scenarios

Finally // Fluff+Smut

Friends, part i // Angst

Too Late for Regrets // Angst

Not Quite // Angst

You // Fluff+Smut

For You // Angst

Thanks // Fluff

Half of You // Angst+Fluff

Worth It // Angst+Fluff

Park Jungsoo/Son Taeyeon

— Scenarios

I’m With You // Angst+Fluff+Smut

Friends, part i // Angst

No Strings Attached // Smut (preview)

In Love, part i, part ii // Angst+Fluff

In The Night // Fluff

Forever // Fluff

Faker [Mafia!AU], prologue // Angst+Fluff+Smut

Lee Hyukjae/Son Taeyeon

— Scenarios

Growing Pains, part i // Angst

Love Scenario, part i // Angst

Kim Heechul/Son Taeyeon

— Scenarios

Ignore Them // Fluff

No Strings Attached // Smut+Fluff (preview here)

The Two of Us // Fluff

_________________

(i) Obviously not true, since Son Taeyeon isn’t real. The actress who played GD’s love interest in the MV for Let’s Not Fall In Love is Seo Yejin

(ii) Credits to the real people who worked on and created Mamacita, Hit Me Up, Islands, Midnight Blues, and Evanesce, which are:

Lyrics: 유영진 Composer: Teddy Riley, 유영진, DOM,이현승, J.SOL (Jason J Lopez) Arranger: Teddy Riley, DOM, 이현승

Lyrics: 이채윤 Composer: Teddy Riley, DOM, 이현승 for (TRX), Daniel “Obi” Klein, Mage Arranger: Teddy Riley, DOM, 이현승 for (TRX),

Lyrics: 서지음, 이유진, 조윤경 Composer: Ricky Hanley, Alex Holmgren, Andreas Stone Johansson Arranger: 돈스파이크

Lyrics: 신진혜, 이유진 Composer: Jason Gill, Curtis Richa, Emanuel Olsson Arranger: Jason Gill, Curtis Richa, Emanuel Olsson

Lyrics: Misfit Composer: Teddy Riley, DOM, 김태성, 앤드류 최 Arranger: Teddy Riley, DOM, 김태성, 앤드류 최

(iii) The actress in Super Junior’s Devil MV is a model named Angelina

(iv) The first three roles mentioned were played by the actress Lee Yoo-ri, the fourth role mentioned were played by the actress Han Sohee, while the last role mentioned was played by the actress Kim Minhee

(v) The songs Fine and Time Lapse are sung by none other than King Taeyeon of SNSD, and credits to the real people who worked on and created it, which are:

Lyrics/작사: 진리 Composer/작곡: Michael Woods, Kevin White, Andrew Bazzi, Shaylen Carroll, MZMC Arranger/편곡: Rice n` Peas

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itsblosseybitch · 5 years

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The Reel Dunne (Griffin Dunne interview from INTERVIEW magazine, October 1988

Hollywood Wunderkind Griffin Dunne eloped at 18, produced a movie at 23, and has been acting all along. Victoria Hamburg stopped by to catch up.

When Griffin Dunne was 23 and managing a concession stand at Radio City Music Hall, he followed the cultural cues of his native L.A. and, with a couple of close friends, optioned a story for a movie. Nothing terribly out of the ordinary for a Hollywood-wise L.A. youth. What was not ordinary, however, was that the story--Ann Beattie’s novel Chilly Scenes of Winter--was actually made into a film, starring John Heard, and released by United Artists.

Chilly Scenes of Winter marked the emergence of the young Griffin Dunne as an actor and leading producer of American films. Son of writer Dominick Dunne (and brother of the tragically murdered Dominique Dunne), Griffin moved to Manhattan after high school to study acting at the Neighborhood Playhouse. Over the years, his film credits have grown to include An American Werewolf in London, Johnny Dangerously, Almost You, After Hours, and Who’s That Girl, and in his role as a producer, he has been equally canny. Along with his longtime partner, Amy Robinson, he has produced John Sayles’ Baby It’s You and co-produced Martin Scorsese’s After Hours.

This season, Dunne’s dual career is in full swing. He produced Sidney Lumet’s Running on Empty, which was released in September, and is currently producing Lasse Hallstrom’s (My Life As A Dog) first American film, Once Around. He stars in Dorris Dorrie’s controversial second film, Me and Him, playing the part of a middle-aged man with two problems--a midlife crisis and a penis that talks (distributors have decided the film is too controversial for America, and it is being released in Europe this month). Dunne will also appear in the HBO movie Lip Service alongside Paul Dooley.

Dunne is as funny and charming off-screen as he is on. Dark, intense, and boyishly handsome, he is a natural storyteller, whose enthusiasm is contagious. Victoria Hamburg found him at home, in his West Village penthouse overlooking the Hudson. The apartment is airy and sunlit, with oversize windows, a fireplace for the winter, and a terrace with real grass for the summer. It is the perfect refuge from the hustle of the city streets and the madness of the entertainment world on which Griffin Dunne clearly thrives.

VICTORIA HAMBURG: I’ve been having my own private Griffin Dunne Film Festival. I looked at After Hours, An American Werewolf in London, Almost You, and Who’s That Girl. The movies that you’ve produced have more social commentary and a greater basis in reality than the movies you star in. The ones you act in are more like myths or fables about the dilemmas of modern man.

GRIFFIN DUNNE: It’s funny--as a producer, you think about material for material’s sake. You look for really rich characters and movies that have something to say. It’s much easier for me to find movies to produce than to act in. You have more control over material, and there are wider choices.

VH: What’s this film you were doing in Boston?

GD: It’s called Lip Service. It was just a great piece of writing by a guy named Howard Porter. He wrote Boy’s Life. It was on Broadway a while ago. David Mamet executive-produced this film and asked me if I’d be in it with Paul Dooley. William H. Macy, who’s an actor, directed it. [OP NOTE: There’s a misprint in this article, where’s he’s referred to as W.C. Macy. Or maybe Griffin was trying to be funny and make a reference to W.C. Fields]. It’s his first film. He did an incredible job, and it was great to work with a director who was an actor. It’s about these two talk-show hosts on one of those morning shows like Hey, Wake Up, L.A. It’s called Sunny Side Up. It’s been run for ten years by a kind of boring, staid broadcaster who’s like a Walter Cronkite of the morning circuit. They want to spruce up the ratings, so they bring in a sort of Regis Philbin type, and that’s me. It’s Regis and Walter on this morning show, and they’re two very different people. I idolize him, but he hates me. I’m always trying to get him to be my friend. There’s something very touching about it. It’s also very sad, because the public taste being what it is, I blow him out of the water. I’m so filled with energy and kooky ideas. I’m always looking for the lowest common denominator in human behavior, and people love it. They just lap it up. Dooley’s character gets fired.

Anyway, in this movie, for the first time I play a guy who is completely happy. He has a vicious mean streak, and then it’s gone, and he’s the happiest person on earth. I had a great time, because I usually play people with a tremendous number of problems. This guy hasn’t a clue of the problems he has, because he never listens. He never hears a word he’s saying. Somebody will be talking to him and he’ll interrupt them to ask, “How’s my hair? Do you think I’m attractive?” or some terribly vain question.

VH: Do you think that it takes being oblivious like that to be a happy guy?

GD: Yeah, basically, I mean, to not have a clue about anybody else’s suffering or even what color shirt they’re wearing is a different version of happiness. I’ve seen people without any sort of self-doubt. They just amaze me.

VH: When you were talking earlier, I was thinking you sound like somebody who doesn’t suffer from self-doubt.

GD: Who doesn’t have self-doubt at some point?

VH: Well, I know, but it doesn’t seem to paralyze you in any way.

GD: No, it doesn’t paralyze me. It’s a fleeting thought, but it was nice to play somebody so completely confident and ebullient in everything that he’s doing. The guy I played just had no problem offending somebody, because he had no idea he was offending them. Terrible hurt would cross someone’s face and he would just go right on talking. It was endlessly interesting.

VH: It seems as if we’ve reached a point where there’s a new Hollywood. There are people who are our age, in their late twenties, mid-thirties, who are now in a position of making decisions in the studios. Are they doing it differently? Is something going to happen that’s different from the way that people have been making movies in the past?

GD: Probably not. Even though movies are making more money than ever, they are still based on the star system. And the star system is getting stronger and stronger. Having name value is becoming more and more important. People are taking fewer and fewer chances. What I’ve noticed is that it’s getting to be taken for granted that this is the way to go. Even the smaller outfits have now figured out ways to hire major stars with name value. I think part of the problem with film is that the good movies--with interesting stories and actors--are not huge weekend movies. They’re competing against star vehicles with rotten scripts and one charismatic star that make the big kill for two or three weekends and then gradually dwindle away. The movies that don’t fall into that category are racing quicker than ever for the video stores. All this means that they’ve yet to figure out long-run releases. And the attitude is getting to be more and more--even among my peers--”I’ll wait for it on cable.” People look at small or interesting or intimate movies as the kind they’d prefer to see at home on their television sets rather than at a theater. Movies are considered failures much sooner than ever before. The failure rate has really sped up, and the success rate is much further down the line because now you have to look at the videocassette sales and rentals.

VH: I think it’s incredibly frustrating for all the people who go out and kill themselves for six years to get a project to finally happen, who risk everything they’ve got and go out on a limb for it, and then, even if it’s reasonably successful, it’ll probably run for only two or three weeks and end up in the video store, and who’s ever going to look at it then?

GD: It’s extremely frustrating. It’s like they spend six years to make the videocassette.

VH: Right. Whereas if you’re writing a book, even if nobody buys it, it will still be there somehow in a more lasting way.

GD: You notice how books and videocassettes are almost the same size...

VH: How did you feel when you were making Who’s That Girl and people kept calling it “the Madonna movie”?

GD: I assumed they would. She is an extraordinarily huge star, and a great deal of commotion happens around her when she’s out in public.

VH: How did the filming go?

GD: It was pretty wild. I guess I didn’t really expect it to be. I remember there was a marathon race on a Sunday. We were shooting in Manhattan. Here are these people who are nearing the end of a twenty-six-mile run. They could have placed respectably, but they pulled over to the side to watch the shooting and let the other runners go on. By the time they got to where we were shooting on Fifth Avenue, they had been running twenty miles. They took a breather to watch the shooting, to watch Madonna getting in and out of a cab. They just threw it all away to watch this. Everybody had a camera when we were working on that picture. Cabs would drive by, and little old ladies would pull out lenses longer than their entire frames and just whack off a few pictures. It was a bit of a carnival atmosphere.

VH: Which do you prefer, acting or producing?

GD: I don’t know. Acting is what I originally wanted to do. That’s really what I’m supposed to be doing. Unfortunately, the business of being an actor is a lot more disheartening than the business of being a producer. As an actor, you’re beholden to the material and the taste of other people who are developing projects that you may or may not get in. As a producer, you come up with the idea. Everything that my partner, Amy Robinson, and I have done, we’ve thought of and developed. The script for After Hours came from a student at Columbia University.

VH: You get offered a lot of roles that you turn down--if you kept getting parts that you wanted to do, would you end up acting instead of producing?

GD: It depends how far along I am in the producing. I’ve lately had a painful decision to make. I’ve turned down work because I’ve been too far into producing a picture. It wasn’t easy to do.

VH: Do you feel you naturally lean toward acting?

GD: I’ve always leaned toward acting. I’m very good at working on stories, casting, and crewing up, but when the movie’s being shot, there’s always the frustration I feel watching other actors working. That goes away once the film’s finished shooting. It’s almost the reverse of what I feel as an actor. There’s a certain relief that, once I’ve finished shooting, I can be in the editing room or in the screening room, watching the rough cuts develop and watching the picture just get better and better.

VH: Have you ever wanted to direct?

GD: Yeah, I think about that more and more.

VH: The relationships between an actor and a director and between a producer and a director are very different.

GD: The relationship between an actor and a producer is, in fact, one of total opposites. As producer--particularly during shooting--your job is to worry and to predict what horrible things will happen. You worry about time, scheduling, and logistics. You have to fall into a certain logic that does not come to me naturally.

VH: I always think it’s a combination of being the baby sitter, the whip-cracker, and the pacifier. In a way, all the things that you do make you feel like you have no control. On the other hand, you realize that ultimately you do have the control.

GD: What you’re doing is watching other people create and have a fantastic time. Amy and I have always worked with directors who have respected our opinion and relied on us heavily for story development, casting, and the creative part. But once the movie is going, it’s just this big monster rolling along that you have to keep in check. It’s much less creative. I mean, you can look at dailies and say, “Gee, it looks a little dark in that scene” and “Why does she have that expression on her face?” but it’s pretty much out of your control, with the exception of the ultimate ability to slow down or speed up the process. And sometimes even that’s questionable. But as an actor, your entire job is not to worry. Your job is to help others, create an atmosphere where you can be totally spontaneous, get lost in the part, and develop intense relationships with people. When I’m acting and things are going well, I have an extremely good time.

VH: It sounds like the acting and producing provide a perfect balance for you.

GD: Yes. Absolutely. I remember when I produced my first movie, Chilly Scenes of Winter. I was a desperately hungry actor who lived and died by my last audition and what people thought of me as I walked out of an office. That’s what most people think when they’re starting out. It’s an unnatural environment when you go in and read and show your personality to someone and they say yes or no. It takes awhile to get the hang of that. I was not good at it. I would clam up and freeze at auditions. I could not be free. So producing a movie was entirely liberating. There I was, in a casting room, auditioning actors whom I not only admired but envied, wishing I was in their position. I was 23 at the time, and I remember being in this office in Los Angeles, in Culver City, pre-screening the actors before the director, Joan Micklin Silver, met them. Bringing in all these actors I’ve admired my whole life and interviewing them, I thought, This is crazy. They thought it was pretty crazy, too. They thought, How old is he? But I did see how the audition process worked, and I thought, This is not so threatening.

VH: I’ve always thought of you as the boy wonder. I mean, there you were, producing a feature film. That’s not easy, but you were at the point where you and Amy could convince somebody to give you the money to do it. How did you manage that?

GD: We also had a third partner, Mark Metcalf. All three of us were actors. Mark was probably the most successful of the three of us, because he had produced Animal House [He also played Niedermeyer in the film]. We had a really good book by Ann Beattie, and people wanted it.

VH: How did you convince Joan that she should let you guys do it?

GD: She came to us. She wanted to make the movie.

VH: But you didn’t know anything about line-producing, right?

GD: No. For a year before we actually got it off the ground, we interviewed everyone. We called people right up out of the DGA [Directors’ Guild of America] book and said, “We’re doing this movie. Would you talk to us? Will you tell us about line-producing? Will you tell us what this means? Will you tell us what gross and net are?” We knew nothing, but we found that complete strangers were willing to share their knowledge and expertise with us. So we learned a certain amount the year before we actually met Joan. All we knew was that we wanted to make this movie, and we had the material. Several times, people said, “We’ll make this movie, but you three have to go.” And we said, “No, we come with it and you’ll have to go.” We pulled it off, and they let us do it. We had a production manager, a man named Paul Helmick, who was close to 70 years old [laughs]; he was Howard Hawks’ first assistant director, and he had incredible stories about the movie business. We learned a lot from him. We were the producers, but he knew the nuts and bolts--who to get on the crew and what the hourly wages were and all that.

VH: What would you say was the most important thing that you learned from doing the movie?

GD: Well, because I was so young, I sort of learned how the world works. I learned how decisions were made and business was run. The business section of the newspaper became interesting to me: why people were fired and hired. Just the decision-making process, and people taking responsibility for their decisions.

VH: You grew up in Los Angeles, didn’t you?

GD: Yes.

VH: So you must have had some sense of how it all worked. Your father was in the business.

GD: Yeah. I knew my movies. I loved movies. But I didn’t know anything about the details of making a movie. Casting was an instinctual process to me. Amy and Mark weren’t from the movie business. They grew up loving movies, and that’s what the three of us had in common. Being from Los Angeles and having parents in the business was not really helpful. I could talk to my father about what I was doing and the problems I was having, and he would understand what I was saying, but he wasn’t in production then. He was extremely supportive of me, just as Amy’s and Mark’s parents were supportive of them.

VH: Did you ever have moments where you were totally terrified because you didn’t know what you were doing?

GD: You know, I really didn’t. I was having such a good time. Nobody ever once said, “You’re a fraud. You’re 23 years old. Who are you to tell me this?” I knew the material. I knew I had a tremendous love and conviction for this book and for the script that Joan wrote and for Joan as a director. I didn’t really have any doubt in my ability.

VH: You and Amy have been producing together for such a long time. How does that work? Is there a role that she plays and a role that you play?

GD: I guess so. We bounce off each other very well. Whoever calls us knows they’re going to get both of us on the phone, and we’ve figured out how to talk without talking at the same time, so that we build on each other’s thoughts. We finish each other’s sentences.

VH: Do you do good cop/bad cop?

GD: Yeah. It depends who the person is. There are certain people she gets along better with and others I get along better with. People get treated well, so there hasn’t been any real tension on our sets coming from the production. Basically we’re both good cops. But we use that good cop/bad cop routine.

VH: How does she feel when you go off to be in a movie? Does she produce things without you?

GD: The day-to-day stuff is a lot of phone work, you know. Producing is all about talking on the phone. When I’m off acting, Amy is doing the day-to-day work in the office. We talk every day. It’s like I’m in foreign land, acting with complete strangers. I’ll call her, and she’ll fill me in on what’s going on. Then, if I have a few hours left in me, I’ll knock off about eight or nine phone calls. So I’m still doing my work. I never fall out of contact.

VH: You sound driven.

GD: Well, it is a driven thing. Amy is a very driven person, and sometimes I have to work hard to catch up with her if I’m doing two jobs. It’s a lot of work. I’m getting tired just talking about it. [laughs]

VH: I’m always interested in people who are able to make movies in New York. Do you and Amy feel pressure to do something in L.A.? Sometimes L.A. seems like a private club to me: you have to do time there or you have to have been a member.

GD: No, I don’t think so. I mean, the reason we’re doing well is because of the material. We choose to live in New York. We have to go to Los Angeles an awful lot for any number of reasons--to meet writers or talk to the studio about financing--but there’s been no pressure on us to move to Los Angeles. In fact, I think it would be a little stifling, because we could fall into that club atmosphere you’re talking about. A good deal of the time there is spent talking about “Have you read this script that was just submitted that all the agencies are reading? Did you get on top of this? Did you get on top of that?” And it’s a cyclical effect. You start buying something based on word of mouth and who’s attached to it--basically for all the wrong reasons. I think this distance gives us a little perspective on what the story is.

VH: How did you find the script for Running on Empty?

GD: Amy and I had been interested in radicals--the real hardened ones, the ones who had been living underground and thought that they were still fighting a revolution, who surfaced only to kill a bunch of people for a political idea that grew out of the ‘60s and had somehow gone terribly wrong. I had absolutely no sympathy for them. I understood where their politics originated, but I felt that they were in a complete dream world. They were the same criminals that sell drugs, or blow away cops to rob a bank, for no political reason. The idea that they thought there would be some kind of public uprising over killing a couple of security guards was delusion at its highest. We talked about making a movie on this subject, and then we came across an article about the custody procedure involving kids whose parents were radicals--two boys, 11 and 9. They were younger than the characters in our movie. Their parents were found with a cache of weapons, fighting to overthrow the government so that we would all be free. They were a lot harder than the characters in our film, but we were struck by the family aspect of the story. We went to Naomi Phoner [author of Running on Empty] with the article and talked about the origins of the parents and their political beliefs. We concentrated on the case of blowing up a napalm plant in the early ‘70s. Their pictures were plastered in every post office in the United States and they were on the Ten Most Wanted list. What effect would that have on their children?

VH: When I read articles about these people, there’s always something about them that makes you feel as if they could have been friends of yours in college. There’s something very ordinary about the people who did those things.

GD: Yes, but living on the run for so long, living underground where there’s a network of people that can help you--that’s got to warp your idea of society, because you have ostensibly left society to lead this kind of life. The society you’re trying to overthrow is very different from the one you have in mind once you’ve been underground for a few years.

VH: Did you actually try to contact people who were underground?

GD: Yeah, we spoke to a few people--they were hardly on anyone’s Ten Most Wanted list, but they had a lot to hide from. Naomi had some friends from college, in fact--former SDS [Students for a Democratic Society] higher-ups who were no longer wanted by the law.

VH: How did Sidney Lumet become the director?

GD: He read the script. We were at Lorimar, and Sidney had a contract at Lorimar. We had thought of Sidney quite a bit before we seriously approached directors. He read it and contacted us and told us how much he loved it.

VH: It seems like a good time to make a movie like Running On Empty. Here we are, with the Presidential elections before us...[laughs]

GD: When we were testing Running on Empty, we would show it to college kids. Researchers would ask them about their knowledge of ‘60s radicals, and they would talk about Jane Fonda. I guess they thought she was an SDS student or something and that she lived in the underground. There was very little awareness about the people who were trying to end the Vietnam War.

VH: How much does giving people something to think about have to do with your decisions about what movies you produce?

GD: We assume that other people will be interested in thinking about what we think about. What initially attracted us to Running On Empty was not so much making a political statement. What really drew us to the story were the family and the conflicts in the family. The movie is a sort of extreme exaggeration of what happens to boys or girls when they hit a certain age, when they look at their parents and they’re not parents anymore. They’re human beings with a lot of problems, and they become aware of what it took to raise them. It’s the first feeling that a kid might have of compassion toward his parents, of a sense of even feeling wiser somehow. That’s what attracted me to Running On Empty. It’s that story of looking at your parents and feeling in a funny way stronger than them. You suddenly have this knowledge that the decisions you make can hurt them. If you don’t want to hurt them, you make the proper adjustments. The alternative is to grow up and hurt them because you’ve got to live your own life. This movie is about all the complexities that go on in a family. Maybe there will be disappointment for a lot of politically minded people who think they might find an answer in this movie. It comes out in a much more family-oriented way.

VH: Your parents are remarkable people. I remember reading the story that your father wrote about your sister’s death and the murder trial that followed it. I particularly remember the description of your mother. I’ve always thought that she was unbelievably courageous.

GD: My mother’s an extraordinary person. She’s the strongest person I know.

[Ellen Griffin Dunne founded Justice for Homicide Victims in 1984 to support victims of homicide with legal and financial assistance, as well as counseling and referrals. In 1989, a year after this interview was conducted, Ellen was recognized for her advocacy work by then-President George H.W. Bush. Ellen also suffered from multiple sclerosis starting in the early ‘80s. She passed away in 1997. Justice for Homicide Victims is still operating today.]

VH: Do you think being raised by people like that allows you to try things that other people wouldn’t ordinarily try?

GD: It sure helps. I grew up in a very supportive environment. My parents were not easily shocked by the decisions I made. I was sort of a handful; I got into a lot of trouble when I was growing up. They never succumbed to total despair when I fucked up. I think that’s an important lesson for parents. I grew up with the confidence of knowing that my parents always thought I was going to come out O.K. They always thought I was going to make it, whatever I did.

VH: Did you have any heroes?

GD: I grew up idolizing people all the time. It’s harder and harder to find idols, but for as long as I can remember, I was always a worshiper of other people.

VH: Who?

GD: I was only 9 years old, but I had this obsession with John F. Kennedy. I was convinced I would someday know this guy and we’d become really good friends. [laughs] I called his wife Mrs. Kennedy, and I’d call him Mr. Kennedy whenever I talked about him. I used to write him letters--nothing very political, just to tell him that it was my birthday last week, and my brother did this, and that things kind of stank around the house but that I’d work it out. I would get letters back from his secretary saying that Mr. Kennedy had received my letter, and that was perfectly fine. I remember we used to go to church every Sunday, one day I just put my foot down and refused to go. I just said “I’m not going.” Big fights. They went to church and left me locked in my room. When they came back, my brother and sister and the whole family were glowing. John F. Kennedy and his wife had gone to church that day, and they sat right behind my parents!

VH: Don’t you think they made it up?

GD: Well, even as I’m telling you, I find it just incredible.

VH: Were you a gullible child?

GD: I was always gullible. But I can’t believe they’d be that cruel. I used to lie for years afterward--with the conviction of a total liar who believed it--about the time I went to church and John and Jackie were sitting behind me. Even telling you this, the lie seems true. I turned around, saying, “Hi, Mr. Kennedy, I’m Griffin Dunne. I wrote you these letters.” “Oh yes, Griffin. Oh yes, I got your letters. Just wait until after the service. We’ll talk.” And then as soon as the service was over, he tapped me on the shoulder, and I climbed over the pew. I’m between him and Jackie, and he says, “Have you met my wife?” “Oh, hi, Mrs. Kennedy. Nice to meet you.” He says, “Go on, about those letters.” And we were talking as we were walking outside, and we became friends in that moment. Anyway, he was my major hero. It’s been downhill ever since.

VH: Were you raised a Catholic?

GD: Yes.

VH: Has that had any lasting effect on you?

GD: Well, I think there’s something very Catholic about that fantasy. I was raised a Catholic, and it helped me in being an actor in plenty of ways. I hated church. I always thought those priests gave rather weak performances. I think that’s sort of how I became an actor--an early fantasy was if I were a priest, I’d do a much better job. When I became an altar boy, I became the church-clown altar boy and would bring the priest the wrong vestments.

VH: On purpose?

GD: No, it just worked out that way, but I got laughs.

VH: I’m half Catholic and half Jewish. I think that what I get from being Catholic is that I’m always guilty about something I did that I shouldn’t have done. And what I get from being Jewish is that I’m always guilty about something I should have done that I didn’t do. I heard the other day that the movie you were in that Doris Dorrie directed was banned in this country. I have a feeling this isn’t true, but this movie has a controversial reputation. What’s going on here?

GD: Well, I think it’s probably a “European” movie in that it’s going to open in Europe.

VH: What’s this movie about?

GD: It’s a sensitive tale. It’s about this guy whose penis starts talking to him and it just totally freaks him out. You never see it, so I don’t know why it’s banned. It’s based on a book called Two by Alberto Moravia. It’s a very typical tale, about this guy who’s an architect. He’s at the brink of having some kind of boredom breakdown--he’s married and he has a kid and feels trapped. His penis starts talking to him, screaming at him to wake up and enjoy life. You never see it. It’s all in his mind. It’s basically me talking to myself the whole movie and talking to women and the people in my office. I’m a very ambitious guy in the movie who starts to get ahead through the power of the seduction. He’s a philanderer, very Italian, both cocky and confused at the same time. He has all these desires of getting ahead and finding the perfect woman. I thought the part had a certain kind of charm to it. It might be banned because the movie turns out to look like one of those Ralph Steadman drawings with the back of people’s heads blown out, you know, like a shotgun went off in their mouth. Everybody’s totally distorted, and weird shit is coming out of their mouths. Everybody is very unattractive in a funny way. It’s not as funny as people thought it would be. It’s a much harder movie.

[This last part is interesting to read, because as someone who has watched Me and Him, there’s no animation in the movie whatsoever. I wonder if that was the original plan for the film but it got scrapped for the final product for whatever reason, probably due to budget constraints. I know there’s a ‘70s film based on Moravia’s book as well. My friends over at The Projection Booth did a podcast on this movie, and Doris Dorrie was interviewed and I don’t remember a word being breathed about any animation sequences, so this is the first I’ve heard about this. Griffin is not a big fan of this movie (neither am I) so he hasn’t talked much about it since, and he said he didn’t want to be interviewed about it for the podcast.]

VH: Her other movie, Men, seemed to be about how people of the opposite sex don’t really like each other.

GD: Yeah. I hadn’t thought that at the time, but I definitely think that now. It’s a battle of the sexes, but it’s a battle over which is the uglier sex. There’s nothing terribly crude about it, sexually. Emotionally, it’s very crude. But being directed by a woman on something as intimate as this is a little like playing the part of a dog and being directed by a cat about how you’d feel about being a fire hydrant. You know, the dog’s going to look at this cat and go, “What the fuck do you know about a fire hydrant?” How would you know how I’d feel about sex? Both of us sort of drew a blank. We had no idea what the other was talking about. It was a totally non-communicative experience. I did my job and she did her job. There really weren’t many ways we could help each other out.

VH: Do you think that people genuinely believe that the sexes basically don’t like each other?

GD: No, I think they do like each other, and I think that was what we disagreed on. As much as we would verbalize it and have many discussions, it always boiled down to the point that cruelty between the sexes was different. We disagreed on that. The movie is about how the two sexes dislike each other intensely, which was not, I felt, in the script.

VH: What are you doing next?

GD: Starting a movie with Lasse Hallstrom, who did My Life As A Dog. Amy and I are going to produce a movie. I’m going to be in it. Small part. Nice part. It’s a story, set in Massachusetts, about an Italian-American from a big, close family, whose sisters have all been married. She’s the eldest and the last one to get married. Everybody’s encouraging her to finally get married to this guy she’s been with for six years, and this guy turns out to be a real wimp. He finally admits to her, “I’m never going to marry you.” She’s devastated, and she goes off.

VH: That’s not you, is it?

GD: Hell, no. That is a wimp. So she goes off, and she meets a man who’s close to her father’s age. He’s a very outgoing, tough businessman, who is rich. He sort of tries to buy his way into the family emotionally and financially. While they’re happy for the daughter, the family doesn’t like the man. It’s a battle of the patriarchs and how the man gets caught in the middle. The family never can quite let the husband into their hearts. It’s very painful and it’s very funny. It’s a brilliant script. It’s written from the heart by a woman named Malia Scotch Marmont [This is a misprint. Her name is Malia Scotch Marmo, and she’s also been credited as a writer for Hook and Madeline], who was at a Columbia student. We found the script through the Sundance Institute.

VH: What do you play?

GD: I play the brother-in-law. He’s a guy who is heavily influenced by this very outgoing businessman and starts to take on his mannerisms, much to the discomfort of his wife, who dislikes him. I’m the only one who thinks he’s a pretty good guy. It’s going to be a great movie. I’ve been in Boston with Lasse. He’s from Sweden. I’m showing him the difference between Italian-Americans from Massachusetts and Italian-Americans from New York.

[The movie that Dunne is talking about would be released as Once Around in 1991, starring Holly Hunter and Richard Dreyfuss as the leads. Interestingly enough, Dunne would end up playing that very wimp boyfriend in the movie. The brother-in-law would be played by Tim Guinee].

VH: What’s the difference?

GD: Well, as far as I can tell, the Italian-Americans from Massachusetts are more Yankee at heart. They really are closer to the family, the Mayflower, and they sort of cling to that. They feel a little more American than the New York Italians, like they got there first. The dialects are obviously very different. But we’re trying to make those differences clear to Lasse.

VH: This is his first movie in English?

GD: Yeah. It’s set in a very particular region of the United States. We can help him with the research and the regional differences, but when it comes to the matter of the heart, that’s his job and that’s where he will shine.

VH: If you could do anything you want, what would you do?

GD: I would have the kind of life where I could bury myself in work for an intense period of a year and then leave work for six months and travel somewhere, maybe live in a completely different area of the world and soak up whatever differences and experiences I might gather there and revitalize myself, then do it all over again. I’d have the kind of control of being able to walk away from something I’ve created that will be there when I get back.

VH: When we were talking about family and relationships, I wondered how come you’ve never been married.

GD: Oh, I have been. I have been. I’ve never mentioned it. Everybody who knows me knows that I’ve been married, but I’ve never talked about it before. It hardly deserves this sort of melancholy face I have on right now.

VH: You’re smiling. [laughs]

GD: Yeah. That kind of melancholy. I was married, when I was 18, to a girl who was maybe 19, whom I had met in high school. She was the daughter of the--at the time--head of a film studio. She was very, very beautiful and probably still is. I have no idea. I haven’t seen her since.

VH: Since you married her?

GD: Yeah, I married her and then I never saw her again. [laughs] Didn’t work out. We got married in Tijuana sort of on a dare. When I was 17 we crossed the border to go to Tijuana, and the highway patrol pulled us over, and they knew for some reason we were going to get married. They brought us into the office and tried to talk us out of it. It was a humiliating experience because she was older and the highway patrol cop was sort of hitting on her. I mean, she was really gorgeous--there was just something about her; she exuded a real intense sexuality. I was madly in love with her, as anyone who ever laid eyes on her was. So the highway patrolman is hitting on my wife-to-be, and the other guy has got me in a room, telling me that I should hold off and not marry that piece in the other room for a couple of years, until I know what I’m doing. I was in such a rage that when I turned 18--on my birthday--we got in a car and went right back to Tijuana and got married.

VH: And how long were you married?

GD: A whopping one year. I came back to--we were going to keep it a secret--the apartment we had gotten. I carried her across the threshold of this apartment that had no furniture in it and the phone was ringing, so I dropped her on the wood floor and got the phone--

VH: What a guy.

GD: Well, you see, she was voluptuous, so she weighed a ton. I got the phone, and it was my father, and he was saying “So, how are you?” I said, “Fine.” “Anything new?” I went, “No, no.” He said, “I just came back from the most beautiful wedding I think I’ve ever been in my whole life. This boy--Oh, God, he must have been your age, maybe a little older. But he and that bride, my God. You know the parents--very dear old friends. Your mother and I, when you get married, that’s how we want to do it. Everything was done just right.” And I thought, Why is he telling me this? Why did he happen to go to this beautiful wedding of a peer of mine, and why is he telling me about it? He must know. This is a sign. So I just murmured, “Well, it’s a little late for that.” He said, “What?” I said, “We just married this afternoon in Tijuana.” He roared with laughter. And I was silent. And he said, “Now wait a minute.” He had this kind of chilly tone. “I can’t tell if you’re joking with me now or what.” I said, “No, no. We really did.” And he said, in the coolest voice I have ever heard, “I think you had better come over here right now.” We went over, and both he and my mother were freaked out. I finally got a divorce--not because of that but because it didn’t work out.

VH: Did she get remarried to an aluminum-siding salesman and have six kids and end up living in Kansas?

GD: No, actually she is married to Fabian. I haven’t been married since then. It will happen. But when it does, the highway patrol won’t be involved. It will be a simple, private family affair.

[All evidence indicates that Griffin’s first wife was Kate Netter Forte. I actually read about this on the website whodatedwho but since that website is a dubious source, I mentally filed that under the ‘Unsubstantiated’ category and didn’t look into it any further. Kate’s father was producer Douglas Netter, and it’s reported that she met the former teen idol Fabian on the set of the film Disco Fever, where she played a character named Jill. She’s in about the halfway point of the film. Forte was married to Fabian from 1980 to 1990. She was the president of Harpo films for 18 years before being let go in 2013. Some of the films she helped produce include Tuesdays with Morrie and The Great Debaters.]

[Victoria Hamburg is a producer who helped produce the Keanu Reeves film Johnny Mnemonic (1995), directed by Robert Longo]

#griffin dunne #long read #long reads #interview magazine #1980s #vintage magazine #victoria hamburg #an american werewolf in london #after hours 1985 #this is us #chilly scenes of winter #baby it's you #running on empty

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