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eddiesxangel · 5 months

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would LOVE a follow up to the brother’s best friend eddie fic where adam finds out they hooked up and just kinda loses it. maybe some angst with a happy ending if you do? i love the fic and thought all the details and feelings were perfect!

I'm so glad you enjoyed the first part! I hope this is up to your expectations. 🤗

cw: Allusions to smut, Mentions of depression, angst with a fluffy ending.

Tag list from part 1: @lofaewrites @lavendermunson @imyourdaninow@itsfreakingbats @allthingsjoeq

Wc: 2k

Read Part 1 here

What Adam Doesn’t Know | Eddie Munson x f!Reader

Ten days. It has been ten days since you slept with Eddie, and you haven't heard a word from him since he kissed you goodbye that next morning. He confessed to having feelings, so why is he treating you like a one-night stand? He hasn't taken any further steps since he fucked you. The situation left you feeling angry, frustrated and used. You wanted to talk to him, but you'll be damned if you were the one to reach out first. Sure, you were stubborn, but you also loved him. So you waited to give him another chance.

Eddie thought things would be okay after he got you out of your system. He just needed to scratch the itch that was you. Wrong.

Eddie was even more obsessed with you and didn’t know what to do about it. He knew Adam would be so not okay with this. He has already expressed his disdain about Eddie pursuing you.

Adam and Eddie have been through a lot together. Adam supported Eddie through family struggles and being held back in high school. Adam has always been there for Eddie, no matter what. The guilt is eating away at him...if he's hiding the fact that he slept with you and has developed feelings for you? He was screwed.

You were browsing the junk food aisle at the grocery store. Try to pick up your favourites to help you wallow in self-pity and eat your feelings. Just as you were to reach for the Doritos, you heard your name.

“Tink,” you look over your shoulder.

“Oh. Hi Eddie,” you turn back to face the aisle.

“Tink, please; I’m sorry”

“No, I get it. I’m just another notch on your belt.”

“No. You are the last thing from that, and you know it.”

“Do I, Eddie?”

“Ugh, I know! I know I screwed up. But let me explain? Please?”

“You have five minutes.”

“I’m sorry, Tink. I’m not avoiding you on purpose… it’s just that Adam had said something, and I didn’t want to keep this from him, but I didn’t know what you wanted to do... We didn't get to talk much.”

“What did he say?”

“He said that you and I were never going to happen. That he thinks it’s ridiculous.”

“So what, you believe him?”

“What? No!”

“So what, Eddie? Adam is a moron.”

“And so am I for not calling you. Please let me make it up to you. I want to take you on a date.”

“A date?” Your heart betrayed you by fluttering.

“Yes, a real all-American date. I’ll pick you up; I’ll bring you flowers. I can take you to dinner, then I’ll take you to the movies where we can suck face, and you let me feel you up in the back of the theatre. The whole shebang”

This made you giggle.

“What do you say?”

“Okay, Eddie,” you smiled.

It was late morning, and you were waking up in Eddie's bed. It's been three weeks since you ran into him in the grocery store. You were officially dating' you were Eddie's girl, and I couldn't be any happier.

You weren’t dating secretly because Robin and Nancy knew about the relationship, but you weren’t telling Adam... yet.

"Morning baby," Eddie's gravelly morning voice sent a shiver down your spine. You were both naked under the covers. Eddie's morning wood was pressed up against your outer thigh as you lay on your back.

"Morning," you reply, still sleepy.

"You cold?" Eddie saw the goosebumps pepper your skin.

"mmm hmmm"

"Well, let me fix that," he smirked.

Eddie had you on all fours, screaming his name over and over as he fucked you from behind. He was so deep inside you swore you could feel him in your stomach. He had you so cockdrunk you couldn't form any thoughts. In your opinion, it was one of the best times you've had, but any time you have sex with Eddie, it seems to top that last.

As you flop down on the bed, all blissed out from your orgasm and your limbs feeling like jelly, Eddie gets up to get a damp cloth to clean you up.

You watched as Eddie pulled on his sweatpants and walked out of the room.

Eddie unexpectedly saw Adam sitting on his couch watching TV as he exited his bedroom.

"What the hell?! Shit man, you scared me.” Eddie chuckled uncomfortably. God, he hoped you stayed in the room.

“So this the same chick you keep blowing me off for?” He motioned to the bedroom, obviously hearing everything.

“W-what are you doing here?”

“We were jamming.”

“Shit, oh god, dude i'm sorry, I lost track of the time-”

“I can’t be too mad; she sounded like a really good time.” He winked.

“Adam.”

"What?! You really fucked her brains out. She was all, oh my god, Eddie, you're the best. You're the biggest I've ever had," he said in a high-pitched tone.

You swore you heard Eddie speaking but didn't hear the phone ring?

“Baby, what’s taking so long? I miss you.” You walk out of the room not bothering to put on anything. “Ahhhhhhhhh!” You run back screaming into the bedroom when you see your bother.

“DUDE WHAT THE FUCK”

“Man, I can explain.”

“YOURE FUCKING MY SISTER”

“Well yea but it’s not like that… I like her dude”

“How long.”

“What”

“How long have you been going behind my back”

“Look we were going to tell you”

You bravely walk back out with a shirt and pants on this time

“Adam, calm down, please.” You beg as you intertwine your fingers with Eddie. He needs your support.

“Calm down?!”

“Yes.”

“How long have you been going behind my back, Ed?”

“The first time was a month ago.” You spoke up.

“How did this even happen?”

I found her crying walking home in the rain; she needed a place to stay...”

“Oh well, isn't that romantic... NOT”

“Adam, you seriously need to chill the fuck out,” you ask.

“Fuck you.” Adam directed back to you.

“Hey!” Eddie got defensive.

“You don’t get to be mad right now.” Adam pointed out.

“You’re being so unfair, Adam.” you spoke.

“Unfair? I’ll give you unfair. Eddie you have to choose right now. It’s me or her.”

“What !?” You cried.

“Come on, man...” Eddie begged.

“No, dude. You can’t have us both. It’s either me or her.”

You can't believe your brother. He is being so childish. Can't he see the good in the situation?

“Tink I…” Eddie's voice shook.

“No... I get it. You can’t ever choose me over him.” You tried so hard not to let your voice crack.

Oh, how you wished you were a kid again to wallop Adam.

“You take everything nice thing I have and ruin it. You did that with my stuff and my toys. And now you’re doing it with my real life, and it’s fucked up, Adam. Be lucky that I don’t tell Mom and Dad.”

“They can’t do anything. I’m an adult.”

“Then start acting like one and not some kid who got his truck stolen on the playground.” With that, you slammed the door behind you.

It has been two weeks since you left Eddie's apartment. You have yet to speak to either Eddie or Adam since then. Unfortunately, you both had to go home for Reading week, and your only option for a ride home was with Adam. It was a very silent hour-long car ride as Adam drove home the both of you. You refused to speak to him.

You didn't even know why you respected Adam's wishes; he couldn't tell you what to do! But then again, they were Eddie's wishes as well.

You hugged your mom and dad hello and went to your old bedroom. There, you stayed for the night, not coming down to eat or socialize. Your mother was worried. She knew something was wrong.

“Honey. Is there anything you want to talk about?” She opened the door the next morning.

“Yea. You birthed the spawn of Satan.”

“So this is about your brother...” she sighed. She must be really tired of having to be in the middle of you two fighting all the time. “What happened?”

You can no longer hold in your feelings. The only people who know are Robin and Nancy because you broke down when you returned to your apartment.

“I finally had Eddie! Like he actually likes me back, Mom!” It was no secret to your family that you’ve been obsessed with Eddie Munson your whole life. “He likes me, and Adam made him choose between me and him! So obviously, he chooses Adam!" Now you’re sobbing.

“What? Why would he do that?”

“Because he has to take everything good in my life and ruin it. It’s been that way ever since we were kids.”

“Honey…”

“You know it’s true. So now I’m heartbroken because I got to experience what it was like to be with him, and it was ripped out from under me.” She sighed again as she stroked your hair.

“I’m going to have your father speak to him.”

“Like that will do anything.” You mumble.

The next day, you decide you need to leave your room.

You’re in what you call your depression outfit. A hoodie, actually, it’s Eddie’s, sweatpants, matched with your throw blanket wrapped around you.

You plant yourself on the couch for the rest of the day. Most of your spring break consisted of being depressed and moving from the couch to your bed. Were you being dramatic? Yes, but you needed to prove a point. You needed Adam to see how his selfishness affected you.

"You really still not speaking to me?" Adam finally breaks the silence on your way back to school.

You don't even look in his direction.

"Come on, Tink! This is ridiculous!"

"No! You are ridiculous. You may have your best friend choose between you and his girlfriend.

"Girlfriend?!"

Yea, Adam. We were together. Like together, together. We weren't just fucking behind your back."

"I- I didn't-"

"You wouldn't have because you didn't, let's explain. You made it the Adam special. Like you always do. Newsflash, not everything is about you."

"Well, it freaked me out! I didn't want to lose him to you."

"How could you lose him to me? If anything, you would see more of me, not the other way around."

"Ugh!"

"How is he doing?" You dared to ask.

"He's miserable." He mumbled.

"Oh, Adam."

"Yea, yea, I know I have to fix this."

Adam pulls up to your student housing unit, and you can see Eddie sitting on your front porch. You sprint out of the car before Adam even puts the car in park, running into Eddie's arms, not caring about what Adam sees.

“I can’t do this. I can’t not see you or talk to you. I’ve been miserable without you.” He wraps his arms around you.

“Eddie-” your heart swelled. He was choosing you.

“Please, I don’t care what Adam says anymore. He can get over it. He will get over it. But I have to be with you.”

"Hey, man," Adam greeted.

"Hey," you moved so you faced Adam, but Eddie's arm was still wrapped around your shoulder.

"Look, I uh... I overreacted, and if she makes you happy, then... I guess I'm cool with it." He shrugged.

"Thanks, Man." You looked up to see Eddie smiling.

"I don't want to hear about any more sext stuff between you two. I still have PTSD." He laughed uncomfortably.

With that, Eddie got your bags from the car, and Adam left the two of you to be alone.

You walked into your house, and the girls weren't back yet; they wouldn't be coming back until tomorrow.

"You came back for me." You smiled before tilting your head up to kiss him.

“I was not letting him take away the best sex I’ve ever had; he can get over it.”

“The best sex you’ve ever had, huh?”

“With the best girl I’ve ever had.” He smiled before you led him to your bedroom...

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #Eddie Munson angst #Eddie Munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fic #requests #TJ’s mailbox

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gunthermunch · 4 months

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[Transcript under the cut]

Billie: Max. Billie: Maaaaaaaaax Max: WHAT!!!!!! Billie: could you PLEASE get your phone? i'm trying to sort my stuff here and you know i need extreme concentration Max: can't you just- slam it against the wall or something? i'm drawing. Billie: just pick up your phone girl it's as hard as taking a couple of steps [door slams open] [quick angry steps] Max: you know what? i'm picking it up. but not because you told me so. Billie: sure, it's over there. um. are you trying to drive someone insane? because it sounds like it Max: i am. Randy's been a complete bitch these days and won't leave me alone. Billie: all this just for that punk wannabee rat man? Oh my god you could've told me sooner so i can have an excuse to dislike him coming over. Max sighs Max: … Billie: …soooo Max: shit Billie: shit? Max: it wasn't Randy. It's Lucas Max: i completely forgot to text him back Max groans Max: --and Randy junk. Told you. Billie: i don't see you texting him back Max: Randy? eh, i'm calling him later. Billie: you know which one i'm talking about, boy Max: yeah, yeah… Max: …nooot now. Billie: just like that?? Max: i just think he can handle himself! c'mon, he's a big boy, not a whiny little baby. Billie: hmm that's something Elsa would hate to hear Max: oh come ON!! I'm just kidding! besides, I'm… doing other stuff Billie: if that's not the shittiest thing you've said this week Max: he knows me. nothing has changed since the last time we saw each other Billie: man i sure hope so! Billie: hey are you doing something tonight? thought we could reschedule tommorrow's movie night. Max: i am, actually. you can stick along tho Billie: no thanks. i'm playing Titania Summerdream in like three months and i need to get eerie and whimsical soon. Max: what does that have to do with anything? Billie: the proccess! it's theatre babe.

#HI MAX HI BILLIE #ts4 #munch #ts4 story #max villareal #billie jang #billie remembered she needs to use her spare time to become eerie and whimsical

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toournextadventure · 11 months

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movie night vi

Summary: A theatre full of paraphernalia and a date night with your godmother. What could possibly go wrong?

Word Count: 6.5k Warnings: swearing, Scream-typical violence, grief mention, scar mention, mentions of past Ghostfaces/attacks Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader (pt.i) (pt.ii) (pt.iii) (pt.iv) (pt.v) (pt.vi) (pt.vii) (pt.viii)

“Where are we going again?” You asked as you jogged awkwardly to catch up with Gale.

“Just come on,” she said before continuing to speed walk down the streets of New York.

The day had been chaotic before you had even woken up. You had vaguely been aware of Tara laying completely on top of you, almost like a weighted blanket, and it had been nice. But then you heard yelling, and shouting, and heavy footsteps, and the loud crack of your door being thrown open and slamming into the wall. Both you and Tara flinched, with her pressing down on one (all) of your wounds, and she stood up quickly while you rolled onto your side and tried not to show how badly it hurt.

“Rise and shine, lovebirds!” Dicky said with an annoying smile that quickly turned into a frown. “The hell is wrong with you?”

“Didn’t Ma ever teach you to knock?” You asked, doing your best not to groan when you pushed yourself up to your feet.

“Time for coffee,” he said. “Made a cup special for you, Tara,” he said with a smile before backing out of the door. “Don’t keep her waitin’!”

It was a quick rush through coffee, a berating from Ma about how you “made” Tara sleep on the floor, and then a moment to say your goodbyes before Gale ushered the four of you out of the front door of the brownstone. You pretended not to notice Tara and Sam looking around and trying to figure out where they were.

You all followed Gale through the streets until ending up in an alley that Sam and Tara had been hesitant to enter. Not that you blamed them, they didn’t exactly have the best luck with sketchy situations. It wasn’t an unwarranted fear; you had been jumped in alleys plenty of times, and that didn’t even hold a candle to their trauma.

“How did you even find any of this?” Sam asked when Gale searched at the end of the alley.

“It’s called investigative journalism,” Gale answered with a smile. “Now come on in,” she said, “you’re going to want to see this.”

“Well now you’re sketchin’ me out,” you grumbled when you passed her, forcing open the door she was struggling with. It was heavy and a bit rusted, but you managed just fine.

And if you hoped Tara saw your muscles there for a second, well, that was nobody’s business.

You stood aside as all three women walked into the building that you presumed was abandoned. Honestly, it reminded you of the building you had taken Tara to all those weeks ago. Except hopefully no one barged in unannounced this time. Last thing you needed was three trauma survivors losing their shit.

Again, it was warranted, but you could only do so much to help.

The door slammed shut behind you, leaving the sound to echo in the empty hallway. If you had been alone, you would have gone exploring. There was nothing more exciting than an abandoned building in the middle of New York, especially one you hadn’t been in before. God, think of the possibilities of what could be in there? There were definitely some treasures to be discovered, no doubt about it.

“Hey Tara,” you said as you finally caught up with the group, “this kinda reminds me of our movie redo.”

“What?” She asked, her voice a little quieter than usual.

“You know, when you put on Titanic and we thought we were gonna get disappeared?”

“What?” Sam asked, and you all froze.

“Nice going,” Tara whisper-shouted at you.

“Uh-” you looked around frantically, “-what’s that up ahead?”

You smiled bashfully at Sam as you pushed past her, doing your best not to let her glare kill you. Maybe you shouldn’t have brought up the date, that was a bad decision on your part. Sometimes silence was your best friend. And unfortunately, you continuously pushed that best friend aside until you got in trouble because… well… sometimes you were a little stupid.

Gale walked in tandem with you as you led the way through the rest of the hall until you reached the open theatre. Sam and Tara stopped in their tracks once they caught up. The quiet gasp from your left side was devastating. The deafening thump in your chest nearly drowned it out; you wish it had.

“What the fuck,” Sam said softly before hesitantly moving forward to check out one of the many glass cases in the abandoned theatre.

“Are these props?” Tara asked with a shaky voice.

“They’re real,” Gale said as she, too, moved toward one of the cases.

Tara left your side to go to Sam, the both of them studying each case. You watched her carefully. Watched the way she hovered her scarred hand over her midsection, almost protectively. Watched the way her eyes darted all around the room, almost as if looking for the ghosts that haunted her even though she tried to push them out.

Your heart waged a war with your head as Tara continued to walk around, her hand lightly running over the glass, or almost-but-not-quite touching one of the items. Did you go over and reminisce with her? Or did you let her process everything on her own, without fear of your judgment or pity? If it were you, you weren’t entirely sure which you would prefer either.

In the end, you decided to let her process everything with Sam. They had both gone through the same thing and had already survived two Ghostfaces together, they could be there for each other. You watched her for just a few more moments before shaking your head slowly and walking over to where Gale was still standing in front of a specific glass case.

“That’s Dewey,” she said softly, her eyes glued to a notebook with drawings in it. Beside it was a knife.

Your jaw clenched.

“He had wanted to meet you,” she said, looking up at you with teary eyes and a sad smile. “Before everything.”

You nodded slowly. “I hear he was a good man.”

“The best,” she confirmed.

“Is that the knife?” You asked as you uncrossed your arms from your chest.

“Yeah,” she said with her own nod. “They used it on Tara too.”

You both turned slowly until you were looking at the stage, where both Sam and Tara were standing and looking at the Ghostface costumes. The blood in your veins boiled, leaving behind a deep ache that you couldn’t quite explain. With a forced huff through your nose, you turned back to look at the knife.

Amber had used it. She had used it on Tara. How could she do that? How could she try to kill her own girlfriend for, what, clout? To be known as the one who took down a Legacy? It made you furious and left your whole body shaking. Your family had done many things, but killing someone you loved had never been one of them. It took a real monster to do such a thing.

You had no sympathy for monsters.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Gale said. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see her staring at you. The hair on the back of your neck stood up.

“I don’t want her to see it,” you said slowly.

There was a second of hesitation. “Be quiet about it.”

Gale walked away to go stand beside the girls, and you waited until their backs were to you before you dug around in your pocket. It was a simple tool, one Joel had gotten for your birthday way back in the day. With the practiced ease of a professional, you picked the lock to the glass case and opened the lid. You looked back at the stage to make sure they weren’t watching before you reached in and grabbed the knife.

It felt heavy in your hand. You weren’t entirely sure if it was from the actual weight, or the knowledge of who’s blood it had spilled. Whatever the case, you carefully slid it into your boot, being careful not to knick your ankle. It wouldn’t do you any good to hurt yourself while trying to be sneaky.

The cold steel of the blade was jarring as you finally started making your way up to the stage. All three women were still standing there, looking at all the different costumes stuck in their displays. It was haunting, like they were all staring down at you. How could the three of them be perfectly fine just standing in the middle of them? The feeling made your head spin.

“They’re creepier without anyone in them,” you mumbled. You hadn’t intended for anyone to hear, but everyone turned to look at you.

“That’s because you haven’t seen them kill your friends yet,” Sam said with a roll of her eyes before she stalked away.

“I didn’t-”

“-I’ll go talk to her,” Gale said. She patted your unhurt shoulder before walking off to join Sam on the other side of the theatre.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you immediately said once you were left alone with Tara. She turned to face you with softened eyes.

“I know,” she said before walking over to sit on the edge of the stage. Her legs hung off the side and you noticed her shoulders slump.

You quickly moved to sit on her left, being careful not to jostle your stitches a little too much. It happened anyway, but you tried to keep your pained huffs to yourself. Fortunately, Tara didn’t seem to notice; she was far too lost in her own thoughts.

The score from one of the Stab movies quietly echoed throughout the enormous room. It wasn’t loud enough to truly draw one’s attention, but you heard it. Whatever psycho had created the shrines must have kept a running loop of the movies. What kind of sicko would keep shrines to a murderer? No, scratch that, to multiple murderers?

No one understood murder paraphernalia quite like your family; you knew what kind of money you could get off selling them. Whoever had created the shrine must have dropped massive money on all of the items. Or, which could be likely for all you knew, they knew the owner of most of the items. Which would mean they were a suspect for this next Ghostface crew.

Wait. That might be right on the money, actually.

“You need to go home,” Tara said quietly, drawing you out of your thoughts. You turned to look at her, but she wasn’t looking at you.

“What?” You asked.

She turned her head slightly. “You need to go home.”

“Why would I do that?” You furrowed your brows. That statement didn't make any sense, what did she think you were, a coward?

“They’re after Woodsboro,” she said. “You’re not Woodsboro.”

“So?” You asked with a shake of your head. “Out of this current predicament, I’ve got more stitches than all of you combined, save dear Anika.”

“Which is why you should leave,” she continued. “No sense dying over something that isn’t your fight.”

“What makes you think I’m gonna die?” You asked.

Tara went silent and finally looked at you full-on. There was almost a resignation in her eyes. What could possibly be going on in her head that would have her saying such ridiculous things? You weren’t a coward and you certainly weren’t going to die. Vitales didn’t die, they got their revenge. And you were just one Ghostface call away from losing your shit.

“The love interest always dies,” she finally said with a shrug. It wasn’t very convincing.

“So I’m the love interest now?” You asked. If she didn’t lighten up soon, you were going to lose it.

“I’m not playing this game with you,” she huffed.

“Tara.” You reached out to grab her left hand, but she quickly recoiled as if you had shocked her. Her scarred hand quickly found a new home in her lap. You did your best not to show how badly that simple move had hurt you.

“I don’t want to get hurt again,” she said softly. “So leave before I make you.”

“Then make me leave,” you said. Her head turned sharply. “Because I’m not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.”

She wanted to argue. You could see it on her face that she wanted to refute your statement. Maybe she would have said something hurtful, something to make you regret associating with her. Or she would go low, insulting you and pushing you away until you wanted to leave. She was more than welcome to try; it wouldn’t change your mind.

You heard her swallow harshly. She looked at you for a few more moments, holding your gaze. Her eyes darted back and forth between yours, and you did your best to keep your features soft. Her insistence on you leaving was still raising your blood pressure, but you weren’t going to let her know that. She had enough on her plate anyway.

A soft, almost silent sigh fell from her slightly parted lips. It was a sigh you often heard from your Pop when he was going over reports for the week; a sigh of resignation and acceptance. Extremely heavy underneath the silence of it all. You wished you could take it all away from her, take all the weight off her shoulders.

Tara let her body fall to the side until her head was resting on your shoulder, and you both just looked out at the Ghostface paraphernalia. What did she feel when she saw those things? Was it a fear that she would be attacked again, that maybe she wouldn’t make it to the end again? Or was it anger at the whole situation, at whoever was trying to attack her this time? Or maybe it was just a mix of everything, you weren’t sure and quite frankly, you knew better than to ask.

You were simply angry. Pure and simple.

“You’re really not leaving?” Tara asked, her voice fragile.

“I mean,” you shrugged with one shoulder to avoid disturbing her, “I’ll have to leave to pee at some point.”

“You’re such a dick,” she huffed as she sat up.

“But aside from that you’re stuck with me,” you said with a smile.

“I hate you,” she shook her head and looked at you.

“Sure you do,” you said. Her eyes flickered to your lips, and you leaned down to-

“-ahem.”

You both sat up quickly, separating yourselves as much as possible. Sam and Gale were standing in front of you. Sam very much didn’t look happy and, quite frankly, almost looked like she would rip your head off if given the chance. Which she probably would. Gale, on the other hand, was barely even trying to hide her little smirk.

“Done reminiscing over your daddy issues?” You asked Sam.

“Just shut up,” Tara whispered.

“Done harassing my sister?” Sam asked back.

“Not harassment if she likes it,” you shot back.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Tara said loudly. “What’s our next move?”

“You and I stick together,” Sam said. “We need to go check up on Anika and the twins.”

“Productive,” you said with a nod. “While you go socialise, Gale and I will solve this case.”

“It’s not some murder mystery game,” Sam said with a pointed look at you. “These guys are lethal.”

“So am I,” you said slowly, drawing out each word. “And I’m gonna figure this shit out before someone else gets hurt.”

“You’re already hurt,” Tara said quietly with a frown.

“Before someone gets more hurt,” you corrected. “I’ll find your guy in 24 hours or your money back, guaranteed.”

“Can you ever take anything seriously?” Sam asked with a tilt of her head.

“Not at all,” you answered with a smile.

“We’re really separating?” Tara asked. “Do you really think that’s the smartest thing to do?”

“You’ll be with the trio,” you said. “And Gale has survived, what, 11 Ghostfaces?” She nodded in the affirmative. “So I think we’re okay.”

“Then let’s get going,” Sam said as she crossed her arms over her chest. “This place is starting to give me the creeps.”

Both you and Tara slid off the stage until you were standing with the other two, all looking at each other and waiting for someone to make the first move. When no one did, you decided it would have to be you. Pop had taught you to be a leader, you supposed. If they needed someone to keep them safe and lead the way, you would take that responsibility upon yourself.

The sun was still blindingly bright when you all walked out of the abandoned building. Everyone blinked rapidly, trying to ease their eyes back to the amount of light. It was almost like when you walked out of a movie theatre in the middle of the day; logically you knew it was still daytime, but you weren’t expecting the sun. If everyone hadn’t been so grumpy and serious, you would’ve laughed at them.

“Keep your phones on,” Sam said once you all made it back to the street. “And call if you hear anything.”

“Yes, mom,” you huffed. “God, I almost preferred it when you hated me.”

“I still do,” she said quickly. But you could see the slightest softening of her eyes.

“Seriously,” Tara chimed in, looking directly into your eyes. It was almost uncomfortable. “Call.”

“We got it, damn,” you said, “chill out.”

“That’s not something you say to people trying to keep you safe,” Gale mumbled into your ear.

“Anyway,” you said pointedly, “go check on everyone. We’ll call if we need something.”

“Or if something happens,” Tara emphasises.

“Or if something happens,” you repeat back to her.

She wasn’t very happy with you, it was more than obvious. Not that you could exactly blame her, again, you understood her situation. Well, you mostly understood her situation. If someone had been going after your loved ones - aside from the obvious situation at hand - you would have been paranoid and extra worried too. She had every right to be concerned.

But you knew your shit.

“Okay,” Tara finally said softly with a single nod. “Yeah, okay.” It was as if she was trying to convince herself that you would be fine.

You had this.

“Get goin’,” you teased Tara when Sam and Gale started to go their separate ways. “Sam might go all Ghostface on me.”

“I’m serious about being careful,” she said as her fingers absentmindedly brushed against one of the bruises on your arm.

“I got this,” you said. “I’m Italian, remember?”

“You’re insufferable,” she said even as she gave you a little smirk.

“You like it,” you said with your own smile.

You looked around for a second, just to make sure Sam wasn’t watching, before leaning down and kissing Tara. Her lips were soft, just like they always were. It wasn’t a long kiss; there were too many things going on and, quite frankly, you were both rather distracted. But it was comforting, and you wanted to remind her that you weren’t going anywhere unless the devil himself came and dragged you down to hell.

“Be safe,” Tara mumbled against your lips when she pulled away.

“Yes ma’am,” you answered.

You pressed one more chaste kiss to her lips before standing up. She walked backwards for a bit, keeping her eyes locked with yours. When she finally spun back around to catch up with Sam, your stomach dropped. It didn’t feel right for her to be walking away. That foreboding feeling settled deep in your stomach and you frowned.

“You coming, Romeo?” Gale called out, and you spun quickly to see her standing a lot closer than you had thought.

“Can you be a normal person for just five minutes?” You asked as you both started walking off to her apartment.

“You like her,” she said, the both of you falling into step with each other. A power team for sure, you had no doubt.

“A lot,” you said quickly. “I’m not throwing the L word out just yet, but you know.” You shrugged.

“But it’s likely,” Gale teased. You refused to look at her, but you could hear the smile in her voice.

You paused. “It’s likely.”

The rest of the walk to the apartment was nice. It was just turning into spring and the weather was starting to warm up, and the streets didn’t smell so much like rotting garbage. Hell, the air was practically crystal clear! You had never breathed so clearly in your life! The world was looking up, that was for sure.

You both waved hello to Michael the Doorman when you walked into the apartment complex. He smiled back and waved, bidding you both a good afternoon. You had always liked Michael; he was sweet. And in a fight? There was no doubt he was lethal, you didn’t have that many muscles purely for aesthetic, not in New York. You trusted him with Gale’s life.

That was a hard trust to earn.

“You should tell her,” Gale said when the elevator doors closed and started heading up to the apartment. “Once this is over.”

“Tell her what?” You asked even though you had an idea.

“That you “likely” feel the L word for her.” Her words were teasing, but her tone said something different.

You didn’t say anything in reply. The elevator doors opened and you both quickly made your way to her apartment, and you listened to her lock all the locks while you walked over to the kitchen and threw open the fridge door. If Gale had asked you what was in it, you couldn’t have told her; you might have been looking but you weren’t seeing.

The thought of telling Tara how you felt had you cottonmouthed. Sure, you were fighting against a serial killer together, but that wasn’t near as terrifying as talking about your feelings! How were you going to explain any of that to her? She barely even tolerated you at this point (at least she pretended to). You were catching on that it was a defense mechanism, but still. It was enough to give you pause.

“What do we have for dinner later?” Gale asked, popping up beside you once again. You didn’t even flinch.

“I don’t even know,” you admitted before closing the fridge door. “Wanna just order takeout?”

“That Korean place on the corner?”

“Absolutely,” you nodded, already salivating at the thought of that stunningly beautiful seafood hot pot. Oh, now you definitely couldn’t wait until dinner.

You and Gale separated for an hour, using the time to refresh yourselves and rest. It was a wonderful routine you had both come up with back in the day when you would sneak into her apartment after nearly getting into some deep shit. You had only needed to surprise her the first time before she learned, and she made sure to keep spare things for you.

And thankfully, you had stashed away some of your things too.

You finished tightening the bulletproof vest before heading back to the living room. It was old, a little worn, but it was still good. There was no expectation for gunshots, but you knew it could keep you at least mostly safe from a knife. If those fuckers were going to come for you, you were going to be prepared. The painful stretch of stitches reminded you how important that was.

“I’m going to go ahead and order dinner,” Gale said when you plopped onto the couch and started setting up your laptop. “The usual?”

“Yes please,” you called out. Your fingers flew across the keys, desperately searching for something that you weren’t prepared to see.

Wait.

“Did you just order three meals?” You asked, turning around and throwing your arm over the back of the couch.

Gale froze. “Yes I did.”

“Don’t you dare bring your boy toy in here tonight,” you said with a pointed finger. “I’m not in the mood to play nice.”

“We all need our stress relief,” she shot back, walking around the room until she sat next to you on the couch. “You should try it, you know.”

“There’s a killer targeting us and you’re bringing him?” You groaned. “He’s going to get us killed.”

“There’s strength in numbers, Y/N,” Gale said softly. You sighed and leaned back.

“I’m not afraid to push him in between you and Ghostface,” you finally said.

“I know,” she said with her own small smile. “What are you looking for?”

“My motive,” you said as you turned back to the laptop.

“Is that security footage?” She asked, leaning closer to look at your screen.

“Of Tara’s house from last year,” you explained.

She jolted back as if shocked. “You’re going to watch the attack?”

“I have to, Gale,” you sighed. “I have to see it.”

“You won’t ever get those images or sounds out of your head,” she said.

“I’ve seen attacks before,” you said with a shrug. It didn’t ease the shake in your hands.

“Not on someone you love,” she said far too softly. It was cutting.

“I have to watch this and the hospital,” you said. “I have to.”

“Why?” Gale asked. “Why do you have to put those things in your head?”

“Because,” you said, finally turning to look her in the eyes. You didn’t think you had ever seen her look so sad. “I need to guarantee I’m pissed enough to kill the fucker.”

The sadness on Gale’s face slowly morphed into something else. Her eyes trailed away until she was staring at your laptop screen once again. You wouldn’t dare watch the hospital if she was in the room, not when you knew Dewey had been killed there. But hopefully she would understand.

You knew the images and sounds would haunt you until the day you died. There was no way you would ever be able to get it out of your head. Yes, you were no stranger to death, but to watch someone you… appreciated getting tortured and used for nothing but sadistic joy? It set off something primal, an anger you didn’t think you had ever felt yet.

Those fuckers would have it coming.

“Come get me when you’re done,” Gale said with an absentminded nod. “And stop if you need to.”

“Yes ma’am,” you said just as softly.

She barely let you finish before she got up and left. You didn’t blame her. But when she was finally gone, you weren’t so sure you wanted to watch the footage anymore. Could you handle such a thing? Could you genuinely handle watching Tara get hurt? You weren’t so sure.

But you needed to be sure you could kill if needed.

You didn’t give yourself time to change your mind before pressing play on the footage. The vest dug into the tops of your thighs as you leaned forward to get a better look. Her house was nice; why she was alone, though, you had no idea. You would need to ask her about it. Shouldn’t she have been out having fun with her friends?

Just like Pop had taught you, you ceaselessly searched every inch of the screen for some sort of warning. Tara wouldn’t have known that, of course, but you wanted to see where she had missed Ghostface. If you could find where the fucker usually came from, you could prevent it from happening again. Yeah, they were different people, but they seemed to follow some ridiculous movie pattern anyway.

They needed to be more original.

The moment you saw the fear on Tara’s face and heard it in her voice, you knew the footage had done its job. You saw red before Ghostface even appeared. To watch the struggle, hear her screams, see her blood smeared around the house… it was more than enough. Your stomach twisted in knots and you felt sick.

And yet, you clicked on the next clip to watch the hospital.

That one almost made you even more furious, which you hadn’t expected. Tara was already injured and weak, and yet the bastard came back for more? For what, an added little “fuck you?” You quickly understood why Tara had that almost unnoticeable limp.

You turned the footage off before Dewey was killed. There had already been enough destruction, you couldn’t watch the love of Gale’s life get murdered in cold blood. It was all too much, you couldn’t handle another one. And besides, Gale was right. The sounds of Tara’s desperate cries and screams were already bouncing around the inside of your skull.

Your phone rang on the table beside your laptop, and you subconsciously picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Sick to your stomach yet?”

Fuck.

You slammed your laptop closed and stood up, practically sprinting to Gale’s room. She was sitting on her bed reading a book, and for a moment you just looked at her. She looked so peaceful. There was no stress of a news story, nothing about a new book, she was just… your godmother Gale again. You missed seeing her like that.

“Cat got your tongue?”

You paused. He had used that exact phrase before. Maybe the same suspect was the caller each time.

“Gale,” you whisper-shouted. She looked up at you with a smile before seeing the phone in your hand.

“Is it him?” She asked.

You just nodded.

“I’m not afraid of a little blood,” you said into the phone, waiting until Gale was right beside you before heading back to the living room.

“Are you afraid of me?”

“Not at all,” you said. You quickly reached down to pull the Ghostface knife from your boot. “You’re just a coward in a mask.”

“How did you like the film?”

The knife was heavy in your palm as you stood back-to-back with Gale. “Last movie I watched was Titanic,” you answered. “It was okay.”

“That’s a lie.” A creak had you turning your head to face the balcony. Empty. “You watched Pearl on your date night with Tara.”

How did he know that?

“I was watching Tara, not the movie,” you said. Where was he? “It doesn’t count.”

“I mean the one where dear Tara was the star.” A shiver went down your spine. “She might be the next Scream Queen.”

You saw red.

“The villain was below par,” you said. Another phone rang, and you felt Gale move behind you. “Let the Opening Kill turn into a Final Girl.”

You turned your body slightly to see Gale put the phone on speaker and wait. It was agonising. The static coming through the speaker was like mosquitos near your ear; constant and irritating with no way to stop it. As much as you despised them, you would hand it to them; they knew how to make things hurt.

“Hello, Gale.” The blood drained from her face. “You both look lovely this evening.”

Keep him talking, you mouthed to Gale, who nodded.

“I was wondering if you would ever call me,” she said as you turned back around to look out at the room. “I was starting to feel left out.”

“I figured you were.” You hung up your own phone and texted Tara. “After all, I’ve called your little godchild twice already.”

“Want to ask your question?” She asked. You slid your phone into your back pocket; you didn’t need an answer. “Or are you just going to shoot the breeze?”

“I don’t have any questions for you.” You reached your free hand back until you could touch Gale; you needed to keep track of where she was at all times. “I have one for your little guest, though.”

“Ask away,” you said without taking your eyes off the room. “I’m an open book.”

“How much would you sacrifice for your dear, sweet godmother?”

Behind you, Gale stiffened.

“I’d sacrifice my left nut,” you chuckled. “Maybe my right tit too.”

“How about your life?”

Your blood ran cold. Gale’s hand reached back and grabbed your forearm, squeezing it tight enough to bruise. Her nails dug into your skin when she turned around and stood beside you, looking out at the room. The air was heavy, suffocating.

The sound of boots hitting the wooden floor was deafening.

Your stomach dropped when two cloaked figures stepped into the room, walking in tandem until they stood in front of you.

Sam was right. They were more terrifying with people underneath the masks.

“Let’s play a game.”

“This isn’t Saw,” you said quickly.

Neither of the Ghostfaces in front of you had a phone to their ear. The call was too clear for a bluetooth headset.

There was a third killer.

“Drop the knife and step forward.” Gale’s grip on your arm tightened. “Or I’ll pay your dear Tara a visit.”

The phone vibrated in Gale’s hand, and you both looked at the screen. It was an image. An image of Tara sitting in the hospital room with everyone else, including an awake Anika, laughing at something. Her phone was upside down on the table beside her.

She hadn’t seen your text.

You looked at Gale. She was already shaking her head, but you couldn’t just let that creep get Tara. The whole gang was there, but two of them were injured and it was a hospital. Honestly, the last time Tara had been in a hospital, it hadn’t ended well. And with two of them, you weren’t going to keep Gale safe on your own.

It was a zero-sum game.

“Still have that birthday present I got you?” You asked when you handed her the knife. She nodded once. “Don’t forget it.”

You leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek before turning around and heading to stand in front of the two Ghostfaces.

“Turn around.”

“You’re a bossy motherfucker, you know that?” You called out, but did as instructed.

A sharp pain went through your leg when one of them kicked the back of your knee. Another shot went up your spine when you fell into a kneeling position.

“Let’s play a game.” Gale locked eyes with you. “I’ll ask you a few questions. Every wrong answer leads to a stabbing.”

“And every right answer?” She asked.

“No stabbing.”

You exhaled shakily and your jaw tightened.

“Simple enough,” she said. “First question?”

“I’ll start easy.” You nervously licked your lips. “Which movie is Jack Torrence in?”

“The Shining,” Gale answered quickly.

“Very good.” One of the boots behind you started tapping against the floor. “Who was the very first kill of the Stab franchise?”

“Before the film plot? Or during?” Gale asked. You hid your smirk. She was far too smart for her own good sometimes.

“During.”

“Casey Brecker,” she answered quickly.

“Ooh, not quite, Gale.” Your stomach dropped. “It was actually-”

“-Casey’s boyfriend!” She shouted quickly, snapping her fingers near her temple. “Steven. Steven, uh, Orth!”

There was silence on the other end of the phone. You both locked eyes with each other. Was he going to accept it? She had corrected it before he had, it counted, right? Jesus fuck, is this what he put Tara through??

“I’ll accept it this once.” You both sighed. “But with a small price.”

You hissed when a sudden pain radiated from your thigh. Looking down quickly you saw blood already starting to soak through your jeans.

“Next question.” You looked back up at Gale quickly. She better get the next one right; these fuckers weren’t playing around. “How many kills has Ghostface gotten?”

“I don’t know,” Gale whispered. “I don’t know.”

“Tick-tock, Gale.” Boots thumped on the floor behind you. “Or we’ll add another one to the count.”

“Just give me a second,” she rushed. Her lips were moving as she counted, doing the mental calculations.

You could feel someone standing directly behind you. Not to the side, but so close you could feel their body heat against your back. Could he see the bulletproof vest? Oh god, you hoped not. Oh please don’t see the vest, please don’t see the-

“-time’s up.”

Gale’s eyes went wide before you felt something hit your back with enough force to send you forward onto your hands. Something hurt, but you couldn’t tell if it was the knife or the sheer force of the stab. The room was silent.

You froze.

“It seems you’ve cheated.” You looked up at Gale; you didn’t think you had ever seen so much sheer terror in her eyes before. “You’re not a very good sport.”

A hand grabbed you by the shoulder and yanked you back up to your feet. You bit down harshly on your tongue when of the fingers dug into some stitches. The taste of metal was nauseating. A second hand grabbed you by the jaw.

“We don’t play well with cheaters.”

“Don’t,” Gale said. She wasn’t even talking into the phone anymore. “Please don’t.”

“Birthday gift,” you said through clenched teeth. “Go.”

“Say good night, Gale.”

“Gale just-”

-Gale screamed-

-your hammering heart stopped when the cold steel slid through your flesh. It didn’t hurt.

The blade was cold against your tongue.

Why was Gale crying?

The blade ripped forward, tearing through your cheeks.

Your head jerked to the side as your body fell forward. By some miracle, you caught yourself with your hands, keeping you bent over. Something wet fell down your cheeks.

A red puddle started to form underneath you.

“You should run, Gale.”

You heard something drop to the floor. Light footsteps were quickly followed by heavy boots. It felt like you were trying to breathe through water. The liquid was thick in your mouth but you couldn’t swallow.

Three gunshots echoed through the apartment.

Gale. You needed to go help Gale.

Your head swam as you tried to push yourself up to your feet. There was a slight throb in your entire face. Something felt sticky. You lifted a hand to your mouth to wipe it off as you finally got to your feet.

When you pulled it away, it was dripping red.

Something vibrated in your back pocket. You continued to stumble your way down the hallway.

The vibrating continued.

Gale had to be somewhere close. Birthday gift. She kept it in her closet. In a safe. Ghostface didn’t carry guns. It would keep her safe and she would be okay-

-another gunshot-

-something slammed into your chest. You stumbled back, hitting the wall. Everything in front of you started twisting and turning.

Something wet dripped down your fingertips.

You let your shaky knees give out underneath you as you slid to the floor. The thump of your heart was felt in your mouth.

"Oh my god, Y/N."

Something clashed to the floor.

"Look at me, baby, open your eyes."

But they felt so heavy. You forced them open anyway. Why was Gale crying?

Something solid thumped on the floor.

And again.

"Take another step and I'll gut you like a fish."

She sounded so angry.

Your eyes started to fall shut.

"No, Y/N, don't close your eyes."

Your fingers were cold.

"Wake up, goddammit!"

Just a few minutes.

Your eyes closed.

#tara carpenter x reader #tara x reader #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega

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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 10 months

Text

There are two different versions of ATSV in theatres - and the only difference between them in Hobie Brown.

Okay ya'll I came across something so bizarre.

So I've seen Across the Spiderverse twice now, and my theatre was going to stop showing it this weekened - so I went to see it one more time.

Originally, I had seen version one. I knew there were two out there, but I had only heard of version 2. This time I saw it. And the ALL the differences has to do with Hobie Brown.

My man really hate consistency, I guess.

LOOK: This is the shot of Hobie saying 'I quit' that's most used. - THIS is version one

But when I went this time, this is what I saw:

THIS IS VERSION 2. (omggggggg!!!!)

As you can tell, instead of his normal colors - in this shot Hobie is a violet-pink instead, with a lot more texturing on his model.

And these are common throughout Hobie's screentime!

If you saw the top photo - you saw version one.

If you saw the bottom photo - you saw version two.

Chances are if you watched the movie early in it's release (first week or so), or you watched a fancam you have seen version 1.

I was able to capture most of the changes on camera - and it's kinda jarring to see but omg i find it so interesting!!!

I took photos of all the differences and compare them down below, including an explanation of why this happened.

Please let me know which version you saw, and when you saw the movie! Have you seen both versions? I'm so curious!

For the first half of Hobie's appearance the two version are entirely the same - except for what seems like either a different take or wording of his 'Gwendy, how much have you told him-' line. However, the changes begin at the end of Hobie's scene with Miles.

I spoke here about how in some versions Hobie says 'Don't enlist unless you know what war you're fighting', while others 'Don't enlist unless you know just who you're fighting'.

But the biggest differences are his last scene.

Last week I used THIS screencap that was taken from a Version 1 fancam. In it, Hobie is in full color:

In Version 2, he's pink. Also - it's extremely faint in the photo, but if you look closer you can see there are also red spiderwebs behind the blue ones in Version 2:

You can see his pink color better here:

Later in the scene, Hobie changes colors. In Version 1, he maintains the same normal color scheme for the duration of the scene, however in Version 2 he's changing back and forth - even turning black and white at one point.

Version 1:

Version 2:

And can I just say -

This is to show how Hobie is literally the only one in the room who is 1) Literally and physically 'in Miles' corner, (literally) standing 'in the right' - to the right of Miles,

and 2) the only one being honest to Miles (why he turns black and white, he also turns black and white while talking about Miles' parents.)

As the scene goes on, Hobie stays this color - which leads to one of my favorite differences:

His last shot.

In Version 1 - Hobie is white & black for one shot, as he says 'Here we go'. This is the same.

However - for version one, he returns to his natural color for his final line of the scene - 'Good'. And for Version 2, he turns purple.

So why did this happen?

According to the ATSV there are two (and only two) versions that were released in US theatres. Version 1 was released when Sony shipped early copies to translators so they could translate the script for international viewing. The version sent was about 98% done, and made to give the translators a jumpstart prior to release.

However, that version ended up being released.

Afterwards they swapped it out with the full, correct version - Version 2.

It seems like Hobie wasn't meant to be natural colored for the duration of the Canon-Events scene, and that in the whole film, he was the final thing they were putting touches on.

There are other small changes in version 2 - including when Miguel calls for backup - in Version 1 Lyla points at Miguel, however in Version 2 she takes a selfie with him on a AI cell-phone.

In Version 1 - Miles says 'No, no no!' at Pavitrs chai scolding, and 'Sorry, sorry' in Version 2. There are other small adlibs, and they said they removed Gwen's voicelines when she was searching for Miles and the child in the rubble (?? don't know why).

I also think - and I DON'T KNOW, I haven't checked my recording but I did record it - I THINK the watercoloring in Gwen's scenes have different colors in some shots, or different strokes, but only subtly. It just looked more detailed and vibrant to me, but idk. But the trans colors remain completely untouched in every way.

However, it seems that your best and most obvious way of telling which version you saw is by looking at Hobie's lines and coloring in different scenes.

Mans really hates consistency, damn.

______________________________________________

Outside of some split-second shots and ablids, He's the only things that's largely changed, and when seeing it in the theatre today I was literally shocked as HELL. When he said 'eh, what of it?', I was like 'mfer WHY R U PINK'. I hadn't noticed until right then. But I'm literally over the moon I got to see both, I feel like I found something secret.

Maybe being Hobie obsessed and Neurodivergent pays off.

Oh - and here's two more shots that were also changed that I didn't get footage of. If you have a photo or footage of these shots from Version 2 - PLEASE post or send them to me. Thanks!

Version 1 - 'What of it?' / In Version 2 he is a BRIGHT pink color

Version 1 - Standing behind Miles while talking to Miguel / In Version 2 he is black and white with newspaper around him (also doesnt he look so cute look at that slutty waist ugh)

SO uhhhhh yeah Idk if anyone else finds this interesting but I DO and I enjoyed it so much and I WISH I could get better footage of Version 2.

Had I not watched his scenes everyday for weeks and wrote out a dissertation about every one of his lines I might not have noticed lol

If you're not normal about Hobie Brown and found this interesting like me, thanks! Let me know if you read this far and please tell me what version you saw and when you saw it! Ok thxs again bye :)

#hobie brown #miles morales #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse #atsv #gwen stacy #spiderman #spider man #spider gwen #miguel o'hara #spiderpunk #spider punk

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queenshelby · 1 year

Text

Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART TWO: AFTERMATH

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student

PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS STORY IS UNDERGOING A REWRITE. PART ONE IS HERE.

Just as you saw him again, the stranger you met at a bar and then slept with that very same night, the memories of your sexual encounter came back to you. It was a few weeks ago when you had the best sex of your life with a man more than twice your age and you could not get him out of your head ever since.

Until now, you knew nothing about him other than his first name and his address. He told you that this was a one-off encounter so you never bothered him again, respecting his privacy.

That night, you did not do much more than engage in some talk and incredibly passionate sex. This was pretty much it and, unlike you would usually do, you even lied to him. You lied to him about your age and then allowed him to take you home and literally fuck you senseless.

He was kinky and experienced but having a one night stand like this was out of character for you and, if you would have known that you would see him again, you would have handled things differently that night. You would not have slept with him.

You were now back with James who, as usual, was late for class. James, too, was taking this course and he had no idea about your sexual encounter with Cillian. When you slept with Cillian, you and James were taking a break so you never really cheated on him, but still, you felt rather guilty about it. In so far as he was concerned, you were miserable for two weeks when you broke up but this was far from the truth. You were not miserable at all after having met Cillian and now it was this mid forty-year-old man who consumed your thoughts every night and whenever you were intimate with your much younger boyfriend who, due to a lack of experience, could not compete with this stranger in the slightest.

Unlike you, James majored in literature and drama whereas you studied drama and took a major in dance. You shared some lectures with him and this course was one of them, making it even more awkward for you now that you knew who was teaching you.

***

“Cillian Murphy, huh?” you stammered almost silently before pulling up your hoodie. You looked like you had just rolled out of bed and you certainly did not want to be seen like this. Not by him. Not by the man who had been on your mind for days and nights on end.

“Yes. God, look at him! He looks incredible. Can you believe that he is 46 already?’ your friend Lorraine said, causing you to look over at him again. She was not wrong and if she would have known what you did, she would probably be angry with you as, seemingly, she took this class for a reason. She had a crush on him, as had many other girls in your course.

“He does look good” you acknowledged almost silently and, just as you did, you felt a set of warm arms wrap around you from behind.

“Jesus, are all you girls taking this class because of Thomas Fucking Shelby? That is so fucking sad” your boyfriend said loudly before kissing your cheek and Lorraine immediately began to cringe.

“Shh! Shut up James” she said while some of the other female students began to giggle. They sure thought the same way as Lorraine did about your new lecturer and when you pulled out your phone and popped his name into Google, you were not really surprised by the fact that he had such a large following amongst those young girls in your course.

He was rather famous and you were shocked to find out that he had been in several movies and TV shows to date.

“How did I miss that?” you asked yourself but the fact that you never really watch TV did not help your case. You also could not recall the last time you have been to the movies. It must have been six years ago at least, which is when you were a teenager.

Then, of course, there was his theatre work which you should probably have known now that you were studying drama at university, but your passion was not really in classical theatre. You were interested in contemporary work associated to ballet and musicals and took this class simply to further your general acting skills which meant that, being enrolled into Cillian’s class, was not that important to you.

“Do you think it is too late to change my enrolment?” you thus asked your friends who obviously did not know why you were asking that.

“Yes sweety. It is too late to change enrolments. The semester has already started” Lorraine confirmed nonetheless and you sighed deeply in response.

“Fuck” you spat and, just as Lorraine was about to ask you why you wanted to change your enrolment, the school bell rang and it was time for you to enter the lecture hall.

Your friends and several other girls immediately stormed to the front of the room which sat about thirty students at the most. James and yourself however went to the back of the room and the reasons for this were twofold.

For James, it was the fact that he was unprepared. He had not done any of the prescribed readings. And, for you, it was the fact that you did not want to be noticed. You hoped that Cillian would not see or recognise you while, yet, you knew that this was dumb as all of the teachers had a list of enrolments and, usually, teachers of the drama school were collecting some sort of information from their students on the first day.

***

After taking your seat, you absentmindedly glanced up at the clock at the front of the room. Class should have started by now and you wondered whether, perhaps, all of this was a just a bad dream. Maybe a new lecturer had been assigned to you? Or perhaps this rather well-known actor had gotten cold feet and decided that teaching was not for him.

But then, suddenly, you snapped out of your little world as the arts and drama’s school’s principal came walking through the door with Cillian and began the introduction. Her name was Miss Lens and, according to Miss Lens, it was a big deal for the school to have an actor like Cillian Murphy involved in this class.

She introduced Cillian as a veteran in acting on stage which was what this class was all about. It was an on-stage acting class and, since Cillian had performed in several theatrical plays over the years, he was well suited to be a lecturer for it.

“Cillian is here to help you with your on stage acting skills and he will be working with Professor O’Connell to get you up to speed before this years’ auditions for three major plays in Ireland and the UK” Miss Lens then said before running through some housekeeping matters which, ironically, involved a short mention of the school’s class conduct guidelines.

“Now, I will leave you with Mr Murphy, so behave!” Miss Lens then finally said to wrap things up and even Cillian had to laugh when she made this somewhat random statement. Behave? Really?

“Alright, Welcome to PRAC300” Cillian said after Miss Lens had left and before carrying on with a brief introduction of the unit and, after not so long, the first few questions came up, most of which related to some administerial matters.

During those questions, several young students addressed Cillian as Mr Murphy which, somehow, made him sound old and you could not help but laugh when you saw his face each and every time a student called him that.

“Right, listen up! Mr Murphy is my dad so, for god’s sake, please call me Cillian, alright?” was what he said after the fifth question or so, which made everyone laugh and lightened up the mood.

But the mood was not so light for much longer when, suddenly, James rose his arm and asked a question as well and this was when he saw you and you locked your eyes with his.

His chin dropped, his face turned pale and, if you would not have taken a seat so far back in the room, you probably would have heard his heart beat out of his chest by now. He was clearly shocked to see you and immediately became lost for words.

“Uhm, would you please excuse me for a minute” he then said abruptly after ignoring James’s question entirely. He felt sick to the stomach and, although the class had only just started, Cillian had to take a break.

He had to freshen up, clear his head and take a deep breath and this was exactly what he did. He went to the bathroom facilities and splashed his face with some cold water while telling himself to think.

In the end, Cillian determined that he had to get through this class and then assess the situation. He had to talk to you before making a decision and, with that in mind, he returned to the lecture room five minutes later and apologised to the students before carrying on with his class.

During class, you each had to fill in a two-page sheet with things that interest you and a blurb about what you expect to get out of this class. This two-page sheet had to be handed in before you leave for the day and, just as you tried to sneak past Cillian’s desk at the front of the room, he stopped you in your tracks.

“Y/N, hang on” he said quietly as you placed your form on top of the pile on his desk. “Can we talk?” he then whispered and you gave a him a quick but reluctant nod.

“Sure” you whispered back before telling Lorraine and James to go ahead.

“My office, in ten?” Cillian then asked and you nodded again.

“Yes, see you in ten” you whispered before quickly catching up with your friends.

“What was that about? What did he want?” Lorraine immediately asked as you finally caught up with them and you quickly came up with a little white lie.

“He just had a question about my form. I think he inadvertently gave me one rather than two pages to fill out” you explained to Lorraine before telling her and James that you would sit down and fill out the rest of the form now and then drop it to his office. “I will catch up with you later, okay?” you asked and they both nodded.

“Okay babe” James said before kissing you just as Cillian walked past, on the way to his office.

***

“May I come in?” you asked after knocking on Cillian’s office door about ten minutes later and he was quick to wave you inside.

“Yes, and close the door, please” he said and, before he could say anything else, you spoke up quickly.

“For the record, I did not know that you were going to teach this class. If I would have known then I would not have slept with you or, at least, enrolled into a different subject. In fact, I did not even know who you were so I am sorry that this has become awkward for us now” you began to say after having closed the door, but Cillian was quick to cut you off.

“I realised that you did not know about me at the time which I, admittedly, enjoyed for a change. But you do realise that this is a big fucking problem now, right? I did not know that you were attending this class and I wouldn’t have pursued you that night if I had known. So, I too, am sorry” Cillian said worryingly, causing you to laugh.

“You pursued me, huh? I thought it was the other way around” you winked, to which Cillian furrowed his eyebrows.

“Y/N, please. This is serious” he said, but you continued to give him a cheeky grin which was something he seemingly adored and was bothered by all at the same time. “And don’t look at me like this” he thus added, causing you to bite your lip seductively before bursting out in laughter.

“Seriously Cillian, you need to lighten up. None of this will be a problem. Just forget about the one-night stand and move on. As far as I am concerned, nothing ever happened between us” you told him, causing Cillian to shake his head in disbelieve.

“But something did happen between us Y/N and we cannot change that. We slept with each other and I cannot ignore the fact that we had sex when I am teaching you” he said, thinking that you must be out of your mind for thinking that the night you had shared did not matter now that he was your lecturer.

“Well, you will have to forget about it whether you like it or not, because I cannot change my enrolment now. I will lose my funding assistance if I do. Despite, my boyfriend is in the same class and, whilst we had broken up just before you and I slept with each other, I do not want him to know about our one-night stand” you explained, causing Cillian to roll his eyes.

“James McCabe. Yeah. I saw” Cillian chuckled before changing the topic. “Will it not make things awkward for you though? I mean, if you think back and all…” Cillian asked and you interrupted him quickly.

“Well, the truth is that the sex with you was the best sex I ever had, so yeah, maybe it will be a little awkward at first but I can assure you that I will get over it. After all, it was just sex, right? You said so yourself” you argued and Cillian gave you a quick nod.

“Yes. It was just sex. Nothing more. So, we are good then you think?” Cillian asked and you confirmed that, indeed, he had nothing to worry about. You were mature enough to move on and so was he.

“Yes. We are good. Now, can I go? I have a date, with my boyfriend” you thus said, making it sound as though you no longer cared while watching Cillian cringe.

***

Later that same day, after Cillian had finished up reviewing the introductory papers of his new students, including yours, he met up with his best friend Dermont at a local pub.

As usual, it was buzzing and after they sat down together with a pint a beer, Dermont asked Cillian about his first day at the drama school which he knew was a position he took simply to get his mind of the divorce from Danielle. It was meant to be a break for him, something you to sink his teeth in to.

“My day was interesting” Cillian said and this comment itself rose several other questions.

“Interesting how?” Dermont wanted to know and, since he had known Cillian for over twenty years, he knew that something was not quite right. Something had happened and Cillian eventually opened up to him about his encounter with you.

“Remember Y/N, the woman we met at Temple Bar?” Cillian began to say and Dermont immediately cocked his eyebrows and interrupted him.

“The one you had a one-night stand with?” Dermont said before answering his very own question. “Of course, I fucking remember. You have been talking about this girl nonstop ever since and I keep telling you that you should have asked her for her number because, clearly, she fucked with your head” Dermont laughed but, instead of laughing himself, Cillian sighed with frustration.

“Well, it turns out that she is one of my students” he then blurted out causing Dermont to choke on his beer.

“Bullshit. No way” he said before breaking out in even more laughter than before.

“No, I am serious and I think that I should bring this up with the dean because it is highly inappropriate for me to be teaching this woman. We had sex so I should not be her lecturer. It is morally wrong” Cillian explained but Dermont did not entirely agree with his view.

“Did you talk to her about it?” he thus asked and Cillian confirmed that he did, indeed, speak with you about the situation.

“And what is her take on this?” Dermont then wanted to know.

“Well, she said that it won’t be an issue. She has a boyfriend who, in my opinion, is not suitable for her, but he is also one of my students and I need to be really careful about what I say about him” Cillian explained.

“He is not suitable because you would be more suitable?” Dermont teased in light of Cillian’s observation about James but Cillian sighed again and shook his head.

“No. Fuck. She is in her late twenties man. She is way too young for me. Despite, she is my fucking student now, so nothing will become of this” Cillian made sure to say, causing Dermont to rethink the issue on hand.

“I think that, if she is cool with you being her teacher and you are certain that you can act without bias and teach her without pursuing her, then you should just keep the one-night stand to yourself man. Don’t tell the dean about it because, in the end, this girl is the one who will suffer, not you” Dermont told his friend who gave it some more thought.

“Well, she wants to keep it a secret, so I suppose this could work” Cillian then said, causing Dermont to nod.

“Exactly and, keeping it a secret, is probably in her best interest, so you need to suck it up and deal with it man” Dermont then said just as Cillian spotted a familiar face in the crowd.

***

“Oh for fuck sake” you mumbled as you saw Cillian and Dermont who both had clearly spotted you as well but ignored you nonetheless.

“Look, our lecturer is here too. We should say hello” Lorraine said eagerly causing you to sigh.

“No we should not. We should leave him alone” you told her but both, Lorraine and your friend Nora insisted so, in the end, you excused yourself and told them both that you were heading home.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you

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beautifulhigh · 1 month

Note

Hi hi!! It's unfair of me to ask you to actually write the full essay on the rwrb red room kiss scene, but I saw your tags and am very interested in at least what the main thesis would be, if you feel like sharing!! No worries if not 😊 Have a good night/day/whatever time it is where you are!

The last few weeks have been, well. They've Been™ and I'm going to use this wonderful ask to dust off my overthinking tag and write a meta post on this movie, these boys, and then hope more than three people care what I have to say.

The Red Room kiss scene is Iconic™ and Important™ and in this essay I (really) will discuss agency, framing, and why it always had to be Alex to be the one to make the move.

While book!Alex takes book!Henry to the Red Room, here he's waiting. Bundle of nervous energy. He doesn't know what to do with himself, how to hold himself, how to present himself when Henry turns up. He's backlit in this (which is a theatre technique, I see you Matthew) but it also adds to the drama and tension of the scene.

The (in)famous painting of Hamilton, about to bear witness to things.

We jump cut between Alex trying to find... something. Here he is realising his shirt has come slightly undone and he wants to try and be somewhat presentable. At least for the moment. But it speaks to Alex's physicality in this scene because he is shifting and moving so much that his clothing is shifting. There's also an interpretation that this suit represents the formality of the situation - the Prime Minister's dinner, at which he (the First Son) and the boy he wants to kiss (the actual Prinec) are supposed to be front and centre and the picture of formality.

He's coming undone in this moment because he's the First Son and he's waiting for the Prince, but he's also Alex and he's waiting for Henry.

Ah, yes. The casual lean against the wall. Fancy seeing you here, your Royal Highness, what do you think of the menu? But there's grounding here too. When you're spiralling focusing on a physical point of contact between you and and something can help ground you.

It's also a defensive stance in a way. You shall not pass, I'm not moving. Alex is claiming space and territory and he's controlling it.

"How dare you fucking kiss me, run away, ghost me, then walk into the White House like nothing changed." This is closed off, defensive, protective - probably why it's the quickest of the poses to be dismissed. He's got his back against the wall like he's scared or ready to come out fighting. And, in a way, both of those are true.

Book!Alex is mid-crisis on his bisexuality and while he logically knows he is very much into Henry, he's not gotten to the point of turning theory into reality.

Movie!Alex is more chill about being into guys, but this attraction to Henry is confusing him. He hates the guy. He wants to punch him in the mouth. With his mouth.

(What? That's literally book canon: and if he weren’t already hell-bent on destroying Henry’s infuriating idiot face with his mouth right now, he would consider doing it with his fist.)

Casual lean against the table, less staged and jarring than the extended arm against the wall.

But then Henry walks in and Alex stands to attention and he is... rapt. He is calm and composed and he is focused. We're back to the back-lit position which helps frame him with a near-halo effect.

And you can see that he is relaxed. There's a slight drop in the jaw, his shoulders are sloped and rounded. Because none on what he was trying to convey before matters. Henry is here.

"Look" he starts with - he's expecting a fight. He's expecting Alex to go off on one for the kiss, for the liberty taken. Even if Alex is willing to forget that it ever happened, take Henry's secret to the grave, Henry gets one thing right in this.

"my behaviour was appalling"

Because it was. Look, Hen, I love you and I'm with Alex in the feeling that I will go to war for you to see you happy and safe. But you did kinda kiss him without consent (harsh reading) and you did ghost him without apology (soft reading) and for a boy raised in the Royal Household that... well... it's pretty much top items on the Very Bad Behaviour list. He did not act with decorum or dignity, he did not act in the way that his status and position demands.

(That's OK, Hen. Because the boy under the linden tree wasn't the Prince. It's OK to not be him, and Alex is going to spend the rest of his life loudly loving the man, not the prince.)

"Shut up, stop talking." // “Shut up, shut all the way up, oh my God,” Alex hisses

Because even though both versions of Alex said he wanted to talk to Henry, in the moment that's the last thing he wants to do. And actions speak louder than words, right?

Why it had to be Alex

Henry needed to make the first move, that New Year's kiss, because there needed to be something to make Alex realise that this thing he's feeling is very much reciprocated, and that Henry wants it too. If Alex had kissed Henry for the first time on New Year's Eve/Day then it would have been too much of a leap. Alex, at whatever stage of his bisexual journey, has no clear idea of Henry's orientation at that party. It's only with retrospective viewing that he realises that Henry was low-key flirting, and that the sharing of these deeply personal moments wasn't just a "two bros in a hot tub" thing.

So Henry had to kiss Alex first but then he had to run because there was no way that the mostly-closeted, private Prince could accept that a) he fucking kissed a boy, b) said boy is the one he's been dreaming of since Rio/Melbourne, and c) the boy kinda?? kissed him back?? Henry will have been having a low-grade anxiety attack all through January (and trying to reclaim some control with the date he went on in the book).

In this moment, Alex knows all the pieces. He's played this logic game to its conclusion and he knows all the facts. 1) Henry is gay. 2) Henry is into him. 3) He's into Henry. That last fact is something Henry isn't fully aware of (or at least can't bring himself to believe it to be true) and so it has to be Alex.

He doesn't want Henry to say something that would get in the way of this, doesn't want to hear any kind of pre-prepared speech of "yeah, we're better off as friends" that always happens when the couple get too close to getting together too early in the run time. Alex is full on shutting that down, shutting Henry up, and he gives as good as he got.

"Wait a minute" // Henry’s too shocked to respond, mouth falling open slackly in a way that’s more surprise than invitation, and for a horrified moment Alex thinks he calculated all wrong, but then Henry’s kissing him back, and it’s everything.

And this time it's both of them. Framed between Hamilton and the books. The American political trailblazer and the literary. In the space between? There's our boys.

Alex's hand is on the wall again and he's controlling the space but Henry is very much in it. He's protective but in a different way.

In one frantic motion, Alex knocks the candelabra off the table next to them and pushes Henry onto it so he’s sitting with his back against—Alex looks up and almost breaks into deranged laughter—a portrait of Alexander Hamilton. Henry’s legs fall open readily and Alex crowds up between them, wrenching Henry’s head back into another searing kiss. They’re really moving now, wrecking each other’s suits, Henry’s lip caught between Alex’s teeth, the portrait’s frame rattling against the wall when Henry’s head drops back and bangs into it. Alex is at his throat, and he’s somewhere between angry and giddy, caught up in the space between years of sworn hate and something else he’s begun to suspect has always been there. It’s white-hot, and he feels crazy with it, lit up from the inside. Henry gives as good as he gets, hooking one knee around the back of Alex’s thigh for leverage, delicate royal sensibilities nowhere in the cut of his teeth. Alex has been learning for a while Henry isn’t what he thought, but it’s something else to feel it this close up, the quiet burn in him, the pent-up person under the perfect veneer who tries and pushes and wants. He drops a hand onto Henry’s thigh, feeling the electrical pulse there, the smooth fabric over hard muscle. He pushes up, up, and Henry’s hand slams down over his, digging his nails in.

The sensibility of the suits is on its way out, they're not the First Son and the Prince. And Alex is taking the lead.

Agency

Henry is somewhat passive in this - although he is fully engaged - but it's Alex who set this in motion. Pun intended. Alex who pushed him against the wall. Alex who pushed him up onto the table and hiked his leg up around his hip, Alex who is driving in. Because Alex needs Henry to know that third fact. The one he's worked out, the one that Henry is just catching up with. This isn't payback, it's not some prank. Alex Wants™.

There's a scene I'm writing in my current FirstPrince WiP in which Alex and Henry have a charged moment. And Henry wants to act on it but those princely sensibilities get in the way and he can't let himself be led into doing something that could be used against him. If Henry made all the moves then the accusation of him taking advantage, of the inherant imbalance that comes with status and titles and positions of power. So in the scene, and here, Alex takes the lead. There's no way anyone could accuse Henry of forcing Alex into doing this.

(Good luck getting Alex to do ANYTHING he doesn't want to.)

So Alex gives and Henry takes and he gets the memo very quickly.

Fact number three. Alex wants this too.

Then Movie!Amy walks in on them (which IMO is way funnier than Book!Amy hissing through a crack in the door) and these idiots try to act like they weren't redefining International Relations a second ago. Alex is by the painting, Henry is by the books. They've gone back to their sides and they're playing at being interested in what they find there. But they're not, it's all for show, someone who gives a passing glance at this point sees this part of them, this side of them The First Son and the Prince: the politician and the literary.

They're both backlit, they're in line even if it doesn't look like it, Alex is no longer on Henry's right, and they're both trying to act like the people that others could see them as.

But we - and they - know better. 1) Henry is gay. 2) Henry is into Alex. 3) Alex is into Henry.

4) Everyone is on the same page now.

(Also I know Casey talked about seeing the Red Room on a White House tour and so that's why they included a scene in that room in their book, but I cannot ignore the fact that red = love and passion and danger and fire [the counter to the water motif] and it's a warm colour designed to excite.)

#jen answers stuff #overthinking jen is overthinking #firstprince #alex claremont diaz #prince henry of wales #red white and royal blue #rwrb #rwrb movie #meta post #long post #henry fox mountchristen windsor #otp: history huh

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buckychristwrites · 11 months

Text

Could This Be | Chap. Seven | j.t.

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader

Summary: One minute, you're single and working for AFC Richmond as the team's medic. The next minute, you're in a fake relationship with the team's handsome striker who you know next to nothing about.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Discussions of Previous Emotional & Physical Domestic Violence. Cussing. Fake Dating

A/N: Just a lil chapter. I hope you guys enjoy :)

Masterlist | Could This Be Masterlist | Main Blog

The last week had been a lot, to say the least.

Work had been average, but it was outside of work that had been hectic. With the bomb Jamie had dropped about the movie premiere, you found yourself in a rush to get a proper outfit. From the details you got from Keeley, it was necessary to dress up, but not necessarily in a completely formal fashion. It took the better part of the week, but you eventually found a dress that you deemed appropriate. It took up a majority of your free time, stressing over this stupid event that you didn’t even really want to go to.

Which brought you to this moment, in the car next to Jamie, on the way to the premiere of a movie that you didn’t even know the title of. All you knew about it was that it centred around European football, which meant many big name players were invited, including all of the AFC Richmond players.

It wasn’t until Jamie gently pulled at your hands that you noticed you were picking at your fingernails.

“Ya alright?”

The sudden contact was only jarring for a brief second, but you were becoming accustomed to the touches from Jamie. From cheek kisses to hand holding, they were all becoming part of the routine when around people, but the consequence of that was that the behaviour bled into the moments alone. So much so, in fact, that you weren’t being as strict with making him follow the rule of letting you know before he touched you. For the most part, though, he still did.

“Just anxious.”

You knew that he knew better. He saw it in the way you flinched when he had told you that many Premier League players, current and former, would be at this movie premiere. He saw it in the panic you had shown all week in regards to the topic. And he could see it now, as you sat tense in the seat. You hadn’t outright said anything about it, but the closer the two of you got to the theatre, the more fear and unease filled your chest.

Your fingers were still tenderly held in his. With your tongue pressed hard into your cheek, you were having a hard time looking at him, opting instead to continue staring out the window.

“Hey.”

Letting out a sigh, you finally looked over at him. Underneath his deep blue blazer was a white button up shirt, the top few buttons undone and the collar looking sloppy. But he looked striking in

It. You knew the whole night would be filled with everyone struggling for his attention.

But in this moment, it was all on you, as he leaned his head forward to make sure you were looking right into his eyes before saying, “It’s me and ya. I won’t let anythin’ happen to ya.” When you didn’t immediately respond, he raised his eyebrows.

You didn’t need him to say it. You already knew that much.

The theatre arrived faster than you were prepared for, and before you knew it, the car came to a complete stop. Through the tinted windows, you could see the crowd of people filling the red carpet with a swarm of cameras, photo and video alike, trying to capture every moment. As the driver climbed out of the car, you felt your heart in your throat. Jamie gave you one last look.

“Ready?” It was a whisper. You nodded.

“I am.”

The door opened, and you were suddenly blinded by the flashing of cameras that flooded the world around you. Once Jamie climbed out of the car, you were then deafened by the screams coming from fans, who were barricaded along the sidelines.

Jamie turned, giving you a loving smile and an outstretched hand. Only for a few seconds did you hesitate before you placed your hand in his and climbed out of the car. A moment was needed for your eyes to adjust, but once you could see again, you allowed yourself to have a proper look around.

Over the years, you had watched many movie premieres on the telly, or online. But being on the red carpet yourself was another experience in itself. The feeling was incredibly surreal. Celebrities that you had watched on the big screen surrounded you. Paparazzi were taking pictures of Jamie, but with you pressed into his side, they were also taking pictures of you. Jamie turned his head so his lips were just millimetres from your ear.

“You gotta smile.”

Without intending to, the words made you laugh. When you turned to look at Jamie, he was laughing as well. The flashes from the cameras were so bright that for a period of time, the only thing you could see was Jamie’s laughing face, eyes like crescent moons.

He led you down the carpet as you tried not to look at any of the video cameras that were following his every move. You kept close to him, the smell of his cologne overpowering everything else. In the near distance, photographers were shouting Jamie’s name, demanding his attention. He continued to walk though, with his hand pressed to the small of your back. An area was set up specifically for posing for photos, and Jamie approached the area to wait.

“Do you want me to wait elsewhere?” You asked him, pointing to the other side. He looked at you like you had grown three heads.

“Why would ya do that?” He asked. You put your hands together.

“So you can get your picture taken…” He waved a hand.

“Oh no,” He said, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close. “You’re taking pictures with me.” The surprise filled your face.

“Why?”

He leaned in close to your ear again before whispering, “Gotta include me girlfriend, yeah?”

Your cheeks grew very hot, and stayed that way up until Jamie and yourself made your way in front of the photo backdrop of the movie logo and other sponsor names. The yelling began immediately, begging Jamie to make specific poses or to turn in their direction. You plastered the best, most natural smile onto your face.

“Jamie! Jamie, over here!”

“Give us a smoulder, Tartt!”

“Can we get one by yourself? Step aside, love!”

“Nope!” Jamie called, that being the only comment he responded to. “She’s not goin’ anywhere. So fuck off.”

He turned to face you, his smile wide. It was hard not to return it. Though you weren’t in love with your photo being taken, it wasn’t as bad in this moment, with him by your side.

You couldn’t help but stare into his eyes, as they twinkled in the light. God, is he fucking handsome.

“I can go, if you want,” You said quietly. He shook his head.

“I want ya here.”

The warmth in your cheeks deepened. The photographers were long forgotten about, as the two of you opted to continue to look at each other. Jamie’s smile faltered slightly, his eyes dropping down your face.

“Give us a kiss!” A photographer shouted. The other photographers chimed in with the same sentiments.

It must’ve been the adrenaline, or maybe it was the fact that you were already looking at him, and he was already looking at you, with his eyes bouncing between your eyes and your mouth. But whatever it was, without hesitation, you leaned forward and planted your lips against his. You expected him to recoil, to even pull away, but instead, he brought his hand up to your head, his fingers curling into your hair as his thumb pressed against your cheek.

A chorus of “Oooooooooooo”s came from behind. Jamie smiled against your lips before slowly pulling away. A laugh broke through your mouth as the two of you were swarmed by the other members of AFC Richmond. Sam and Dani grabbed Jamie’s shoulders, excitedly shaking him as Colin, Richard, Isaac, Bumbercatch, Jan Maas, Coach Beard, Roy, and Nate Shelley all surrounded the two of you. It was hard to be upset over the ruined moment when you were surrounded by so much excitement and love, but then it dawned on you: the moment you just experienced? It wasn’t real. There was nothing to be upset about.

So why were you so upset about it anyway?

The cameras were really going off now, the yelling even more intense now that there was a whole crowd of people in the shot and not just two. It was hard not to feel slightly overwhelmed by the whole thing, but you smiled anyway.

“First red carpet, yeah?” Isaac asked you, pulling your attention from the cameras. You nodded. His smile only grew wider.

“It’s weird, innit?” Colin asked. It was clear by his expression that he was sensing your discomfort. You let out a laugh at his question.

“Weird is a bit of an understatement.” You felt like you were living someone else’s life. In their shoes, in their dress, on the arm of their man. But you couldn’t very well tell them that, could you?

As the team began to disperse again, a voice called out from behind you.

“Richmond. My friends.”

Your blood ran cold, feet frozen to the ground below them.

Jamie turned when he realised you weren’t with him, a smile still on his face. When he looked at your expression, it instantly vanished.

“What’s wrong?”

“I- I have to-” You stammered, your eyes wild as they searched for an exit. When they found a bathroom, you pointed in its direction. “I’ll be-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence, the air trapped in your throat as you rushed away. The world around you began to spin, your ears feeling like they were filling with water. You thought you heard someone call your name, but you continued towards the bathroom.

When you entered, you shut the door behind you before throwing the lock. You didn’t even realise how nauseous you were until you were falling in front of the toilet, dry heaving without anything coming up. The pounding in your chest was like a drum. On the other side of the door, you could hear someone knocking loudly, but the panic stopped you from moving.

He’s here.

He’s fucking here.

You knew there was a chance, a high one, that you would see him. But now the moment had arrived, and your mind and body weren’t anywhere near ready.

You’re safe.

You’re fucking safe.

Jamie won’t let anything happen to you.

Slowly straightening, you turned to face yourself in the mirror. The tears were streaming down your face, and you were thankful for waterproof mascara and setting spray at this moment. Carefully, you took a paper towel and dabbed at your cheeks until the dampness was gone. The pounding on the door continued, and you could hear Jamie calling your name. Sighing at your reflection, you gave yourself a nod before heading to the door. Shaky fingers unlocked the door before pushing it open.

“What’s happened?” Jamie asked, rounding on you the second you walked through the door. You opened your mouth to speak as his hands reached for you, holding your head on either side as he searched your eyes.

“Jamie-”

“Jamie Tartt.”

You closed your eyes.

Pulling away from you, Jamie turned towards the source of the voice.

“Zava,” He said.

Opening your eyes, you were greeted by the face that had haunted you for over a year. His long hair was pulled back, as it always was, and he was dressed in a cream coloured suit with a white undershirt. His eyes were trained on Jamie, as if he didn’t yet notice the presence next to him. You cowered behind Jamie, trying to remain unseen.

“How are you, my tiny friend?” Zava asked, holding his hand out for Jamie, who stared at it for a moment before taking it in his.

“Don’t recall us bein’ friends, exactly.”

You pressed your lips together at the bluntness of the statement. Everyone in AFC Richmond knew how much Jamie hated Zava, and it was never appreciated by you more than it was at this moment.

“Nice to see ya, mate,” Jamie said, in a clear closing of the conversation, before turning back to you. You watched Zava intently, waiting for him to leave. He turned to walk away, but at the last possible second, his eyes met yours, causing him to pause.

Your name rolled off his tongue, and your entire world felt like it was going up in flames.

Jamie’s expression changed from annoyance to dumbfounded as he turned back to look at Zava. He was forgotten by Zava now, however, as his attention was completely on you.

“You look lovely tonight,” He said quietly, taking a step towards you. Instinct had you taking a step away, your eyes jumping back to Jamie.

“What-” He said quietly, tilting his head further to understand. Lips pressed together in an effort not to cry, you reached forward and took Jamie’s hand in yours, giving it a squeeze. He stared at the contact, subconsciously entwining the fingers as everything came together in his mind.

The transition from confusion to realisation was a painful one to see cross over his face.

Jamie turned to Zava quickly, placing himself directly in front of you, like a shield. His hand, however, was still holding yours.

“Alright, mate,” He said firmly. To anyone who didn’t know Jamie, they wouldn’t hear the anger in his quiet voice. But you did. Part of you was thankful for the public backdrop, or else you wouldn’t know what he would do with it. He began to lead you away, careful to keep himself between you and Zava.

“I’d love to get together sometime,” He called after the two of you, and when you turned, you found his eyes exclusively on you. “For tea. Or dinner, perhaps. To… catch up.” You began to shake your head, but Jamie was faster with the response.

“I don’t think so.”

There wasn’t time for another word to be said, for Jamie turned and walked so quickly down the carpet that you were almost running to keep up with him, mostly in fear of being dragged. He led you inside the building, where people were slowly starting to file in for the start of the movie. Glancing down an empty hall, he pulled you a great distance down and waited a second before turning back to you.

“I’ll kill him.” He sniffed. “Say the word and I’ll kill him.”

There wasn’t an ounce of humour in his voice.

You watched as he ran a hand down his face, before pointing in the direction of the door. His eyes were filled with a fire you had never seen before.

“If that prick eva comes near ya again, I’ll murder him with me bare hands.” He was damn near shouting now, his hands trembling in anger.

You were overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with fear, overwhelmed with anxiety, but in this moment, overwhelmed with something else, too.

Placing your hands on his shoulders, you brought him back to reality. Back to you. He froze, turning to face you once more. You held eye contact for a second before closing the space between yourself and him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and laying your head on his shoulder. A few moments passed before his arms snaked around your torso, burying his face into your shoulder. All you could smell was his cologne, and it was keeping you centred.

“Let’s go watch the movie,” You mumbled. He pulled away, still close as he leaned down and placed his forehead against yours.

“We can leave,” He mumbled. You closed your eyes as he grabbed your fingers and ran his own across them. “If you want. I could take you home.” You shook your head lightly against his.

“Let’s stay.”

He nodded, taking your hand and leading you back down the hallway. You felt lighter in this moment, lighter than you had in a long time. For even with a person who you viewed as a threat being so near, you knew you were safe.

The auditorium was filled by the time the two of you had made your way in. So much so that the only seats were in the back. The two of you sat down, looking around anxiously. A few rows ahead, you could make out the Zava’s outline, making you recoil slightly in your seat.

“Can’t believe you fuckin’ dated him,” Jamie mumbled, as if reading your mind. “Ain’t he married?”

“Divorced now,” You told him. “After she found out about me, of course.” Though you refused to look at him, you could still feel his stare. Your eyes began to well up again as you wondered how Jamie would react to this news. The idea of him view lesser of you was unbearable.

Instead, he took your hand in his again, filling the space between your fingers with his own. It didn’t feel like an act this time (although, it never really did with him). He brought the topside of your hand up to his mouth and gave it a kiss. A flash from the side let you know that someone caught a photo of the moment, but you didn’t turn to confirm it, and neither did he. The lights went out at that moment, the beginning credits starting on the screen. As everyone else applauded in excitement, you turned to face forward, scooting back in your seat and hoping it wasn’t a long one.

It was a long one, unfortunately, for when the credits began to roll and the audience began to applaud, you were being shaken awake by Jamie, your head laying on his shoulder. Disgruntled, you sat up, blindly joining the rest of the crowd as you clapped and hoped that your makeup hadn’t smudged during your accidental nap.

“After party?” Jamie asked as he rose from his seat. Although by his tone, it was clear he already knew your answer. A snort left your mouth as you shook your head.

“If by that you mean me ordering pizza and laying on my couch in my knickers, then yes.”

He pressed his lips together before saying, “Sounds like the kind of after party I’d want to be invited to.”

You didn’t get the chance to respond as you and him got sucked into the crowd exiting the building. He was looking around as if searching for something, finally pulling you in the direction of the bathrooms.

“Be right back,” He said just outside the door, kissing your cheek before disappearing through the bathroom door. You leaned against the wall and watched the people walk by. Celebrities of all statuses passed by without a single glance in your direction. The weirdness of the day fell over you again.

Somewhere amongst the crowd, you heard someone call your name, and when you turned, you saw Dani, Richard, Isaac and Bumbercatch heading towards you. Behind them was Zava, his intense stare making you shrink inside yourself.

“We are going out for drinks and karaoke!” Dani exclaimed excitedly. “Zava’s treat.” You allowed yourself a glance at the retired footballer, before looking back at Dani.

“That sounds fun!” You said, trying not to sound too strained.

“Are you and Tartt comin’?” Richard asked. You inhaled deeply, looking at the bathroom briefly before turning back to him.

“You guys go ahead, I’ll find Jamie.”

They nodded in agreement before wandering off, but it wasn’t lost on you that one of them stayed behind. Zava approached you, making you press your entire body into the wall.

“Please come,” He said in a low voice, his hand reaching up to your cheek. You jerked away, but he still forced his touch against your skin. It began to burn at the contact, and you felt your breathing rate increase. “I am divorced now. We can discuss… us.” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m taken,” You said simply, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s over.” He let out a loud laugh.

“You can’t possibly think that Tartt is any sort of upgrade.”

“Compared to you? A soggy lunch sack would be an upgrade.”

The both of you turned to see Roy Kent, standing with fists at his sides. Relief overflowed you. Zava swallowed hard.

“This does not involve you, Kent.” Roy shrugged.

“The problem is, I don’t give a fuck,” He said in his most sarcastic voice. You bit back a smile, so grateful for Roy at this moment. The hand dropped from your face, and you felt like you could breathe again. Zava began rounding on Roy, who tipped his chin up towards him.

“What’s going on?”

You turned to see Jamie, who’s eyes were on Zava. Suddenly, he was once again between the two of you.

“Zava here was just leaving,” Roy said, tilting his head towards the doorway as he narrowed his eyes at Zava. Zava looked back at Jamie, who also had fists at the ready by his sides. Though he didn’t have the height that Zava possessed, you knew who would win in a fight, and with Roy by his side? Zava didn’t stand a chance.

Without another glance in your direction, Zava whipped around and stalked out the door. Roy and Jamie stared in that direction until they were sure he wasn’t coming back.

“Thanks, mate,” Jamie said to Roy, who grunted.

“Wasn’t for you.”

You smiled softly.

“Thank you, Roy.”

He nodded, not saying another word before walking off. Jamie sighed sharply before turning back to you.

“Home?” He asked gently. You took his hand in yours. Part of you considered telling him about the afterparty with the team, but, selfishly, you decided not to.

“Please.”

Before you knew it, you were safe in the backseat of the car. A sigh forced it’s way out of your mouth as you laid back in the seat. All of the evening’s anxieties filled your head as your brain finally forced you to feel them all at once. Tears quietly streamed down your face, your eyes trained on the soft roof of the car.

Seeing him… The way he looked at you…

It was too much.

“Hey,” Jamie whispered when he looked at you, turning to face you. Sniffling, you tried to turn your head away from him, but he hooked a finger under your chin and forced you to look at him. Hand on either side of your head, he wiped your tears away. “You’re alright, love.”

Was it him? Was it you? It was hard to say. But somewhere among the tender moment, you found yourself kissing him. The privacy of the back of the car allowed for more passion, more intensity behind the kiss this time. He pulled you out of the lap belt until you were straddling him in his seat. While your hands were still on his face, his found your legs, pushing your dress up your thighs until his fingers were curling around the fabric of the thin thong you wore underneath. Against your thigh, you could feel him grow hard.

The car came to a stop in front of your house, but you barely registered it as your fingers tangled in his hair. He whispered your name against your lips, seeming to pull away, but you desperately leaned forward and caught his mouth against yours once more.

“Stay,” You mumbled between kisses. “Please. Stay."

TAGS

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#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #tedlassosource #ted lasso fanfiction

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haerinari · 4 months

Text

Ballerina - Shotaro

paring: bestfriend!shotaro x fem!reader

genre: friends lo lovers, fluff.

summary: he was always in your ballet presentations, he was always encouraging you to chase your dream. he loved watching you doing what you loved the most, even if it was not him.

Love 119 Series: wonbin, sungchan, eunseok, anton, shotaro, sohee, seunghan.

want to keep reading? click here ⬇️

“Are going to the theatre tonight?” you asked while packing your ballet shoes and clothes in your back pack.

“Of course” your best friend, shotaro, said from your bed. “You know i wouldn’t miss a presentation from you”

“That’s why you are the most wonderful best friend in the world” you told him with a smile.

Best friends, just that. You’re best friend.

“Yeah, bestfriends…” shotaro said in a whisper, allowing only himself to hear what he was saying.

“Did you said something?”

“Oh no, just saying i’m excited to see you tonight”

Tonight you were going to perform one of your favorite ballet dances ever, “The Swan Lake”.

“Gosh i’m dying of excitement” you exclaimed. “If i do something wrong i would die of embarrassment, can you imagine if i fall?”

“You’re going to be perfect, you are perfect. That’s how you’ve been always”

Since a couple months ago, Shotaro started saying those kind of things to you. At first you didn’t pay much attention to it, he has been always the type of touchy best friend, giving you hugs and sometimes holding your hand. But from a few weeks now you have been felling this type of… something in your stomach, butterflies are they called? Of course every time you feel them you drawn them away, but then shotaro said something cute to you and they rise again.

“Thanks Taro”

Hours passed and your presentation finally came, you were playing the white swan, so it was a really important role for you. It was perfect, you pushed yourself so hard that the presentation was incredible, perfect.

“You were a.ma.zing” your bestfriend said emphasizing the last words. “ I bring you this…”

“YOU BROUGHT ME TULIPS!?” you exclaimed, seeing the bouquet of flowers that he was hiding behind his back. “YOU KNOW HOW I LOVE TULIPS!!”

“Yeah i know” he laughed. “That what i bought them”

“I love you with all my heart Osaki Shotaro” you thanked him giving him a big, tight hug. You didn’t knew the impact your words had into him, his heart beating faster due to how closer your bodies were.

He loved watching you doing ballet, he loved you.

“First position… Second position… Third position…—Kazuha keep your back straight— Forth position… Fifth position… Rest” your ballet teacher said.

You had ballet practice almost every day, making difficult going out with shotaro. And the weekends you had free, you spend them with your family.

Although shotaro would rather have you on his bed while watching your favorite movies, he went to see you practice every day he could, taking you to eat something after.

Today was no exception, a few minutes after the practice started, you saw him poking his head through the door with a big smile on his face. He waved at you, you gave him a smile saying hello too. What you didn’t notice was that maybe you smile at him too much, and of course your teacher saw you smiling at the boy that was on the door.

“y/n even tho you did good in our presentation two weeks ago, that doesn’t allow you to spend all your practice smiling at your boyfriend that is on the door” she said with a firm tone.

“Huh? He’s not my boyf—”

“You should probably tell that to him, he comes here every. single. day to watch you dance” your teacher cut you off. “If you’re not in love with him, he surely is with you”

You gave a little glance at the door and shotaro was not there anymore. Shotaro? In love with me? Impossible, we are just friends. Best friends.

Best friends?

Best friends.

And why do you think about him all the time? Why do you want him to hold your hand and hug you forever? If he isn’t in love with you, now you know you are definitely with him.

After practice ended, shotaro took you out to eat your favorite, spicy noodles. Every time you ate that with him, you could spend hours laughing at his poor tolerance to spicy food.

“My tongue is burning” he said poking his tongue out, you laughed.

“It’s NOT spicy, shotaro”

“Yes it is, you just like torturing me. The things i do for you y/n… the things i do for you”

“It’s not my fault you can’t eat spicy food, i do enjoy watching you eating tho, it’s funny how you’re always complaining”

“I enjoy watching you eat too”

“Tsk, why?” you said while eating more noodles.

“I enjoy watching you doing whatever, dancing, eating, sleeping, studying. I love watching you doing any-”

“Stop saying things like that, taro” you cut him off, the butterflies in your stomach appearing again.

You couldn’t ruin your friendship with shotaro, he has been your best friend since you remember. You are not supposed to like your best friend, not in that way.

“Why?” he asked, turning his whole body in your direction.

“Whatever effect your words have on me, you have to stop them. My stomach is doing backflips right now” you confessed.

“That’s not something bad”

“It wouldn’t be bad if you were not my best friend, you are not supposed to make your best friend feel those kind of things” you told him, looking down and playing with your own hands.

“Just get the hint y/n” Shotaro answered, putting his hand in your chin and forcing you to look directly into his beautiful eyes.

“What?”

“I thought you would be smart enough to discover it by yourself” he giggled.

“I really don’t have any idea of what are you talking about right now”

“y/n, me, Osaki Shotaro, i’m in love with you”

“no you’re not”

“yes i am”

“no you’re not”

“yes. i am” he smiled softly.

“Shotaro, I… i’m in love with you too. It’s just that i wasn’t sure if you liked me back, and i didn’t want to lose your friendship so i tried to burry my feelings but-”

Shotaro caught you completely off guard, his lips went directly into yours. The kiss was sweet, it was like if all the feelings both of you were trying to hide, were finally coming out. One of your hands was cupping his cheek while the other one was in his neck, pressing him more closer to you. You have been waiting so much for this momento to come that you didn’t want to waste any second.

“You know, in the bottom of my heart a kinda knew you like me too” he said breaking the kiss, smiling brightly.

“And why is that?”

“Your hand always shake when i hold it”

“Damn it, i thought it wasn’t that obviously” your cursed.

“It’s cute”

“You’re cute”

“Aww how lovely, do you want to go out with me tomorrow?” he asked.

“Are we going to eat spicy noodles?”

“Yes”

“It sounds perfect to me” you answered back, kissing his cheek.

#Spotify #osaki shotaro #riize shotaro #riize osaki shotaro #shotaro #shotaro fluff #shotaro fics #shotaro x reader #shotaro imagines #love 119 #riize love 119 #ballet #friends to lovers #best friends #best friends to lovers #fluff #riize fluff

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ojcobsessed · 4 months

Text

Few actors have endured as fraught a journey as Oliver Jackson-Cohen. Few actors are more in demand than the star of The Haunting of Hill House and Jackdaw

by Maeve Ryan

OLIVER JACKSON-COHEN HAS been doing this a while. He decided to act at the age of six. Joined a theatre troupe and began to climb. He continued until university but didn’t get into any drama schools. Throughout our conversation, he tells me there were no signs pointing him in this direction, no surefire chance at success. But he’s found it, and then some.

He rose to prominence with his highly acclaimed portrayal of Luke Crain in Mike Flanagan’s The Haunting of Hill House.

A character that battled a heroin addiction to cope with past traumas, though addiction was the least interesting thing about him. The show featured stars of the past, and launched new ones into the present, Oliver Jackson-Cohen being one of them. The role of Luke changed the course of his life – for more reasons than one.

It was the first time in his life he no longer had to hide, he tells me. “I could be as fragile as I felt.” He took his newfound Netflix fame and began to carve a path that finally aligned with who he was, not who the world wanted him to be.

Now, he takes centre stage in Jamie Dobb’s new film Jackdaw. When he read the script, he thought he was the last man for the job. When Dobb explained the hyper masculine lead needed someone to bring softness behind it, he signed on.

Jackson-Cohen’s career, and presence, proves that the strength of a man lies in his ability to go beyond society’s standards. He breaks the stereotypes like bread over a long conversation in Soho. We discuss his entrance into the industry, facing traumas, and finding a safe place to land.

sm: What was the first movie you ever saw that made you want to act?

o-jc: Home Alone. I remember seeing that film and saying, oh whoa, so a kid can do this? I remember telling my dad, ‘I think I want to do that.’ I was six or seven.

But it gets dark. So, my mum and dad’s house had a bay window that was on the street. And when I came home from school for a week, I just sat in the window thinking, any minute now, someone from Home Alone is going to walk past, and go, there’s a kid! Let’s get him! I was willingly wanting to get kidnapped. Which is so fucked. My dad came home and was like, ‘What are you doing?’ And then he was like, ‘Yeah, that’s not how that works.’

We found a theatre program – I started going there when I was eight. I was never the golden kid. In the drama clubs, I was always like the snake in the background. Or just the scenery. We used to put on terrible plays. I was such an insular kid. I found a safe place to feel where it’s real, but it’s not. So you can experience it all. I did that for three years, and then I was kicked out.

sm: What! Why?

oj-c: I had an attitude or something like that. I got suspended so many times. I genuinely was not looking for trouble. I was always the one to get caught. Like, I was the kid who someone handed the knife to, and I’d be standing above the dead body, and then the next thing I knew it was 20 years in prison. It was always stuff like that. But it was time to move on anyway.

I found this drama school at Riverside Studios. It was a small group, maybe eight or nine people. It was so interesting, because I’m going to do a gross name drop, but in the group was Carey Mulligan and Imogen Poots. It was incredible.

sm: Those were the kids that were just there? Did you have to audition?

oj-c: No, but I did a trial. It was a lot of devised stuff, like improv. A guy named Andrew Bradford ran it. He really supported kids. It was all day Saturday. We were all teenagers. It felt like another life. It grew and grew and by the time I left I was 17 or 18. It wasn’t one of those places that you were beaten down. No fake bullshit. It was a safe place to try stuff. We’d put on plays and we all got agents from that as kids.

sm: Is that the moment you look back on and think of as the beginning?

oj-c: I think so. But it was such a long period of time. Career wise, it was quite stagnant. I did one job when I was 15 that was some late night soap. Then I didn’t do anything until I was 18. I wasn’t like this is real until later. It started to snowball when I finished school. I went to get a French lit degree, hated it, dropped out, and applied to drama school. I didn’t get in anywhere.

In the meantime, there was a job at the BBC for a silly period drama. I did that, took the money, and went to do a foundation in New York at Strasberg.

sm: Tell me about the audition for drama school. You didn’t get in anywhere?

oj-c: Yes. I’m telling you there were no signs that pointed to me saying, yeah, you’re quite good at this. It felt like everyone was saying, ‘don’t do it.’ Which is a really interesting place to start from. If no one around me believes in me, how do I? And I just keep going? It was a mix of delusion and stupidity.

sm: Did you think about doing something else?

oj-c: When I was still in high school, I worked as a runner on productions, mainly at the BBC. I was revolving through that so when I finished school, that was kinda my job.. I got to see the inner workings of how sets worked, rehearsal periods. I got to see the writers and the actors, how they would construct a joke, and adjust things.

When I was 17, I started doing the European Music Awards. I would go and work in the costume department, I didn’t fucking know anything about how to sew on a bun but it was amazing. I got such a solid understanding of how a production office works, how a schedule works.

Tragically, you see a lot of how an actor is a small cog in this machine. Everyone is working so diligently. This whole idea of superiority that can go on, it was important for me to witness early on. Because when you go onto set and someone says five minutes, it actually means five minutes. But it was also hard because I was watching people do what I love. I didn’t get into school, so I said fuck it, I’m gonna do a foundation for a year and reapply to drama school from New York.

sm: Why choose the Strasberg program?

oj-c: Someone told me about it. I thought I needed to go do something that gives me a playground, a space in the meantime. But when I got there, I was with this small agency, and they started sending me out on auditions. The first or second one I went on, they flew me to LA to do a screen test and I got it. This was six weeks into the program. I was like: what do I do?

sm: What did you decide?

oj-c: There were three or four movies I got, but then the financial crash happened and it all fell apart. So I went back to New York to continue with the program. But meanwhile, I had been signed to WME and my agents were like, let’s go down the studio route because that’s going to be fun. I got an audition for this Drew Barrymore movie, got that, and then I dropped out. Then got another job that moved me to LA. I was there for a year shooting and doing the prep for that.

The whole idea was that I’d do that and reapply to drama school. Then I kept on booking. It’s only in the past couple years I was like, thank fuck I didn’t stop. There were moments that I thought I needed to stop and do three years of training.

sm: Did you feel like you were missing something that other people had?

oj-c: I felt like I was back-footed. Like I had no idea what I was doing, then I realised no one does. There is no arrival point where you’re like, ‘I know how to act!’ A lot of it was becoming comfortable with learning and making mistakes. Some will hurt and some don’t matter.

sm: So you start booking jobs, and then it just keeps going? No break?

oj-c: There’s obviously periods where you’re out of work. Or you really want a job and you do 50 auditions for it and you don’t get it. A lot of that went on. But I was 22. I ended up staying in New York until I was 28. I felt like a deer in the headlights. I was just so grateful that I was working and that people wanted to hire me that I never stopped to ask if it was actually fulfilling.

I listened to a lot of people early on. I needed guidance. I needed someone to say, do this job, this will lead to this, or it’s important you work with this person. Then I woke up one day and was like, is there anything here that I’m actually proud of?

That comes with experience and maybe a little bit of delusional confidence where you go, I think I want to try and do something here that is more aligned with me. It was a weird time to be in LA. I’m six foot three. I look a certain way. People wanted the product. I thought that was how I’d get there. I’ll pretend to be confident, I’ll be a version of what these people want. Keep my mouth shut and pretend. I reached a point where I was like, I cannot keep going this way.

sm: Did you feel that you’d abandoned yourself? Or was it a slow realisation?

oj-c: It became harder and harder to pretend to be this chill guy. I’m not chill. But when you’re handed something, you go, this is fun. Then the more you read and become accustomed to the environment you’re in, you start to feel entitled to have an opinion. To feel entitled enough to say: I actually don’t like this, I actually find this quite soul destroying. Having to make myself small, or block myself off and not be as vulnerable as I feel. To not show that.

It was an interesting time – in the late 2000s, men were men and what I was being asked to do was be an idea of what a tall, white, masculine man was that sort of never really sat. I actually feel really fragile. So I took a break for six months. I was like, I’m just going to say no now and try to re-shape the direction of what I want to do. Then The Haunting of Hill House came along.

sm: How did that audition happen?

oj-c: I’d done a film with the producer before. They sent me a conversation that happens in the show between Luke and his twin sister, it was him asking her to get him drugs. They asked me to read that and literally the following day, they called me and were like yep, you.

means something to people. It was an amazing thing to be a part of.

sm: Did you immediately recognise that Luke was the kind of character you were looking to play on the page?

oj-c: Sort of. If I’m honest, I did quite a lot with the role. Mike was very open to collaborating. I put a lot of stuff in there that wasn’t necessarily there originally.

All of the siblings were there but they were sort of blank canvases for anyone to put whatever they needed to put in it. We all came in and made bigger choices to create this family dynamic. They brought on this incredible writer, Scott Kosar, who wrote The Machinist, to tackle the Luke character because he was in recovery at the time.

sm: The writer was in recovery?

oj-c: Yes. He tackled all those monologues about staying clean and everything. That was him. You know, you’re talking about a family that lived in a haunted house, that’s sort of a silly premise but all the substitutions that everyone did, it was all about trauma. Living and being followed by things unless you face them.

sm: What did you bring to the Luke character that wouldn’t have been there if somebody else played it?

oj-c: Someone else would have brought something amazing to it. But Mike Flanagan had so many tapes come through of people playing the addiction, and you can’t play the addiction. When I first looked at Luke I was like, okay, he’s a heroin addict, but then I was like, actually, to put a label on that, to label him, does such a disservice.

So it became about what he was running from, and what was terrorising him. For me, it became about childhood sexual abuse. How do you escape this thing you don’t want to feel? And if you can’t keep it at bay, it will take over. It became about that struggle, not ‘I need my fix.’ It became about this terrorising thing that’s always present, which translates into the show. We all have things that follow us. It became about trying to humanise it and make it real by using that as a way in.

sm: You’ve been open on social media about the sexual abuse you faced as a child. How did you navigate acting something so close to home?

oj-c: I’m of the school of thought: use whatever is real for you. That’s why I do the job. A lot of us use our own personal experience, but we bring it to a safe space where it’s okay for us to experience it. In a way it calls for that, and it felt important to do for the show.

I come back to this idea of needing to stop and reassess what I wanted to do, where I wanted to go, and what I wanted to say in the work that I do. I felt like I couldn’t keep hiding. We’re all complicated, we’ve all had complicated upbringings. That’s just part of life. It’s unfortunate, but it’s sort of always going to be a mess. I needed to put everything that I felt into something. I do that all the time.

We use the parts of yourselves. Including the darker parts, and some of the stuff we don’t want to look at. I’ve never been one of those people to go half on something. You either do it or you don’t. There’s no middle ground. I’m not going to half step in, or pretend.

sm: Did you have any practices while filming to help you not carry the hurt from that world into your own?

oj-c: What was interesting was that all of that sadness was in there anyway. I wasn’t generating any of it, I was just opening it up. I didn’t whip myself up into a frenzy. It just felt like I didn’t have to hide, or pretend it wasn’t there.

sm: Would you say acting has been healing for you?

oj-c: I don’t think the word healing is correct. But it’s been incredibly helpful in helping me understand myself better. It’s probably not the healthiest but I’ve said this before, I feel like I need the job to lay out all my neuroses and vulnerability. I keep myself so closed off in real life. It’s an outlet that feels necessary. That’s why I go off to work every couple days.

sm: You are cast in a lot of thrillers and horrors. Why do you think you mesh well with that genre as an actor?

oj-c: You know, after I did Haunting of Hill House, it was sort of this big thing where the amount of horror scripts that came through was crazy. The amount of, ‘do you want to play a drug addict?’ It’s incredible how desperate people are to put us into boxes.

After Hill House, I did The Invisible Man. That was a horror but the messaging - we’re talking about gaslighting, we’re talking about toxic relationships to an extreme. It was so much more than a scary film. It felt like it had something to say. That’s the thing about horror. When it’s done well, it’s incredibly impactful.

sm: After Hill House, did you feel you had agency when choosing your roles?

oj-c: To a certain extent. But no matter where you’re at: the job you want, they don’t want you. You can be Julianne Moore, but they’d rather have someone else. It’s constant. But it did change quite a lot. In terms of becoming Netflix famous, which is the strangest, most intense thing ever because you’re the most famous person on the planet and then something else comes out. I felt like I was in a fortunate space where I could choose more, but there were films that I really wanted that I didn’t get.

sm: I heard that when you first read the Jackdaw script, you didn’t think you were right for the role?

oj-c: Yes. I called the director Jamie Childs and told him he was nuts. Because again, here’s this hyper masculine man that felt quite robotic on the page. I met Jamie on the set of Wilderness. He was telling me, ‘I’ve written this movie. I’d love to get your feedback on it.’ So I read it. It was still an early draft. Then he said, ‘Do you want to do it?’ I genuinely thought I wasn’t the right fit. I thought it was just out of convenience that he wanted me.

He said to me, ‘It needs someone to come in and make it human. To give it vulnerability.’ He said the film is about how this man readjusts his life following the death of his mum, and I was like, sold! You need some tears? I’ll bring you tears! I’m never leaving my sad boy era. It happened so quickly. We wrapped Wilderness, and then started filming three and a half weeks later. We were up north in January.

sm: You go swimming in the North Sea quite a bit in the film…

oj-c: Oh yeah. It got to like minus nine. It ended with me getting hypothermia. I think I’m a bit too delicate, that’s why. I had this amazing stunt guy called Jamie Dobbs who’s this gold motor-cross champion, and we had to shoot all this stuff of us in the night. They’d get me on a rig, and then they’d get Jamie and it got to minus 12. He got frostbite on his face. It was unbelievable. It was all night shoots. I am so surprised we all made it out alive.

sm: Had you ever cold plunged before?

oj-c: Not at all. I’m one of those people in August that’s like, I don’t know if I want to go in the sea, it looks a bit cold. We did three days on the water. Some of it was in a kayak. The underwater stuff, that’s where it got brutal. We were all eating every 25 minutes because we were so cold. There was a boat just for food. I couldn’t name one thing we ate. It was just fuel. We were going to work at 5pm, and then wrapping in the morning.

sm: Do you often try new things on film sets that you’d never do otherwise?

oj-c: Yes, all the time! That’s part of the allure of it. You get to learn all these weird things that you’d never do. You get to experience these amazing things. I’ve been doing this for so long, because I’m 150 years old, and someone will bring something up and I’ll be like, oh I’ve done that! But then I’m like wait no I didn’t, the character did.

sm: Was there anything else you learned on the set of Jackdaw? Motorcross?

oj-c: Yes! I fucking loved it. If I’m honest, a lot of it is me jumping on and starting up and then getting out of frame. Insurance-wise, I couldn’t do any of the jumps or anything. But it is so great. There is nothing quite like it.

sm: Do you ever think you’ll get into the writing side of film?

oj-c: I have. I just don’t know what I have to say yet. Everyone reaches a point where they think, I don’t want to forever be a product. It would be nice to be part of the creative. I have a lot of opinions.

You go into a job with the best intentions. This is what they’ve told us, this is what’s been sold and then you’ll see the final product and be like: that’s not at all what I thought it would be. The more you do it, the more you feel like you know what you actually like and what you want to be part of. I’ll get to it at some point.

Jackdaw is in cinemas now.

#oliver jackson-cohen #oliver jackson cohen #jackdaw #jackdaw film #jamie childs #2024 #interview #cw: csa #mike flanagan #haunting of hill house #luke crain #jack dawson #i have that home alone anecdote memorised by now 😭#he writes!

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muldermuse · 4 months

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What would happen if Gator saw reader accidentally in a different light. Like if she’s a high school teacher and he saw her out on a field trip with her class being sweet?

i love this!!!!!!

part of the two sinners world

“Miss! Look! It’s Sheriff Gator!”

You were working at a different school for a few weeks, a local Elementary School had a bout of sickness pass through that had knocked out around half of the school’s usual staff. The kids, as usual, were surprisingly resilient with most continuing to attend school completely unscathed to the local illness. You’d volunteered in this school when you were training to become a teacher so you’d had experience with younger kids. You, however, had not had experience with a field trip to a local museum with around 50 screaming, excitable kids.

The other teachers had been pulled to different exhibits and you were currently being told facts about dinosaurs by a passionate six year old. Because you were with a younger school, you decided to dress up a bit more. At your high school, you’d get away with sometimes wearing jeans and a nice sweatshirt. You really didn’t want local parents thinking you were some degenerate teacher dragged in to teacher their children so you wore a floral dress, your hair in a high bun with a bow and some boots for your day out.

Too distracted by desperately trying to keep tabs on all your children, you’d hadn’t noticed him looking at you with an expression of both shock and awe on his face. He’d never ever tell you this but he fucking loved seeing you like this. He was seeing you in a different way; you just looked so nice. Like obviously attractive and your outfit was beautiful but you just looked like an innocent teacher and unlike someone who regularly broke his heart. This sight was a welcome change. The shrill shouting of the kids and the swarm of them running towards him made you aware of his presence. You smirked at the expression on his face; kids made him so uncomfortable, he held his hands awkwardly out and patted them on the head like he was desperately trying to appease a feral dog. You always heard Glenda talking about having enough kids for a soccer team with Gator but you knew Gator would hate that.

He started blushing as soon as you made your way over to him.

“Well Hi Sheriff Gator, what are you doin’ at the museum today?” you quirked your brow at him, if this was him trying to see you- this was maybe the most desperate thing he’d even done (even including that time he’d waited outside a movie theatre for you).

Your voice sounded so different to him; your usually cutting tone was softened and made child friendly. “Just uh- sorry- just checkin’ some CCTV. There was an attempted stabbi-…I mean, someone nearly got hurt last night”. You had to stifle a laugh, he was so out of his depth surrounded by doting kids. By this point, the museum was long forgotten, your students were shouting out questions for Gator to answer and he desperately tried to answer them in the most wholesome manner.

“Sheriff- is Miss your girlfriend?” all the kids surrounding the two of you giggled scandalously. Obviously, to young children, two adults stood together had to be boyfriend and girlfriend. Gator’s face had progressed from a pink blush to beet red. You smiled sweetly at Gator; patiently awaiting his answer.

“Uh no…no, Miss is very pretty but she isn’t my girlfriend. I h-“ before he could even finish his sentence; the kids squealed in delight.

“Sheriff thinks Miss is pretty!”

***

He arrived unannounced at your home a few hours later. You’d kept the same outfit on and he looked delighted when you answered the door. You spent the evening lying in bed together, you were slowly riding him with your dress on (to his insistence) both in no rush to cum- just enjoying making each other feel good. You rotated your hips on his cock and heard a growl slip past his bitten lips. His grip on your hip was bruising and he smirked as you cried his name; defiling you in the dress you looked so fucking innocent in.

“So, Sheriff” your voice was nasally and teasing, “y’think I’m really pretty?”

“The fuckin’ prettiest baby, I swear.”

#two sinners works #gator x reader #gator fargo #gator tillman x f!reader #gator tillman x fem!reader #gator tillman smut #gator tillman #fargo fx #gator tillman fanfiction #fargofx #fargo spoilers #fargo #fargo s5 #fargo season 5 #fargoedit

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kirain · 10 months

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Saw your comment on a post about Sound of Freedom and I came here to say.....shame on you. Shame. On. You. Since when is child trafficking a political issue? Since when is calling pedophilia bad a political issue? If you have a problem with this movie then maybe YOU'RE the problem. No better than the big Disney fat cats who tried to suppress this movie and keep it shelved. Or theaters messing with the ac and saying seats are sold out when they're empty. Shame on you! God's children are not for sale!

I wish people would do a little more research on this topic. If Hollywood and the "powers that be" didn't want this movie being seen, it wouldn't have been released in over 3000 theatres countrywide. It's being shown in major and minor locations all across America and Canada, and the vast majority of those locations aren't having any problems.

Case and point, my own mother and her friend went to see it last week and everything was fine. No issues whatsoever and the seats were packed. The movie isn't being "suppressed". This is all a marketing gimmick from the production company Angel Studios, a Christian streaming service. The movie is jam-packed with lies and only serves to glorify Tim Ballard, the man the movie is based on, and Christianity as a whole. I truly wish this wasn't political, but it is. They made it political.

Tim Ballard has provably exaggerated or fabricated many, if not most of his "rescues", and his organisation, Operation Underground Railroad, has been widely criticised by professional anti-sex trafficking organizations (including other Christian-based ones) for years. He has accumulated millions of dollars for his so-called "non-profit" organisation, and he runs several for profit organisations on the side. Most of this money is presumably pocketed by Ballard and his cohorts, as millions is unaccounted for and only a sliver goes to OUR. It's not about "saving children", it's about money and spreading Ballard's religious ideology.

This is compounded by the fact that Ballard, before he left the CIA, was almost always the last officer to arrive on any scene where child sex trafficking was involved, yet he somehow has hundreds of stories where he's singlehandedly rescued children. In fact, the "true story" the film is based on, where Ballard apparently saved a five year old boy—who, by Ballard's own account, ran up to him, hugged him, and begged to be taken away—didn't even happen. According to court receipts from the arrest and trial of Earl Venton Buchanan (the pedophile in possession of the little boy), Ballard arrived at the scene long after the boy was rescued and taken into custody, and he was barely involved. The documents can easily be found online under the San Diego incident reports.

Ballard was also caught lying about saving one particular girl named Liliana, the literal poster child for OUR. As it turns out, Liliana rescued herself by escaping her captors when she was seventeen and being trafficked in New York. Even more egregious, every time Ballard told her story, he would lower her age to garner more sympathy ... as if her being seventeen wasn't sad enough. In one instance, he claimed she was 14. In another, he claimed she was 11. Ballard also exploited Liliana's story as a reason for needing stricter border patrols and a better wall, despite the fact that she was being abused in America. There is no evidence to suggest OUR had anything to do with her rescue.

Ballard and his "organisation" have even ruined entire legitimate rescue operations in other countries and put children at risk, like in the Dominican Republic, where he endangered the lives of 26 girls by playing vigilante, being followed around by a camera crew, and causing a shootout that effectively traumatised the children he used as a prop to lure in buyers. His response to the mishap and rightful criticism by the Dominican police was basically, "Well ... you win some, you lose some."

The children were released without receiving any therapy or rehabilitative care, and Anne Gallagher, the leading global expert on the international law on human trafficking, said that OUR has an "alarming lack of understanding about how sophisticated criminal trafficking networks must be approached and dismantled" and went on to call the work of OUR "arrogant, unethical, and illegal". Those children easily could've been shot and killed. This occurred in 2014, but Ballard still insists that his "rescues" be filmed, and he even pitched it as a reality TV show. His reasoning for this, he says, is to "spread awareness", but we all know it's because he loves the spotlight.

Entire law enforcement agencies have actually cut ties with or even condemned OUR, such as Washington State Law Enforcement, as a result of Ballard's proclivity to conflate child sex trafficking with consensual adult sex work. Ballard and OUR regularly set up sting operations and lambasted the men who showed up for kink play, publicly branding them as pedophiles, even though the men in question were under the impression that they were meeting for sex with consenting, adult women. This led to several lawsuits against OUR, all of which they rightfully lost.

Ballard's means of gathering intelligence is also questionable, as he, by his own admission, sometimes consults psychic mediums for information on missing children and asks where they're being held captive. I genuinely wish I was joking about that.

The main actor in Sound of Freedom, Jim Caviezel, also has ties to the Qanon movement, and Caviezel himself is a hardcore conspiracy theorist. He believes that Donald Trump is "the new Moses" and that "liberals [literally] drink the blood of children". This is ironic, considering Caviezel and Ballard both met Trump several times, yet never pressed him for information regarding Epstein's client list. Moreover, Caviezel and Ballard both donate to the Catholic Church, which funds the largest child sex trafficking ring on the southern border and has a history of rampant sexual abuse of children. Even more insane, Caviezel admitted to watching child porn, to apparently "get in character" for the movie. He claimed that if Ballard had to watch it, it only "made sense" that he'd have to watch it, too. To "motivate" him to fight child trafficking.

...Alright, bud.

Surprise, surprise, both men are also outspokenly anti-LGBTQ+, despite the fact that children/teens in that community are statistically more likely to be trafficked. The majority of child trafficking is not the result of random kidnappings, as the movie would have you believe. The majority of children are actually recruited into sexual exploitation by a family member or friend/boss. The majority of those children are also not generally passed around in Mexico, like this racist, white savior-oriented movie would have you believe, but they actually either stay in or end up in America. America is, in fact, the largest consumer of child porn and child sex slaves this side of the globe (and nearly the largest producer), yet the movie depicts almost every pedophile as Mexican or some other non-white race.

At the end of the movie, Ballard comes on screen and asks people to donate/buy tickets for others, so that the movie can spread awareness. This is why so many seats in certain theatres are empty, despite websites saying the seats are sold out. Whether or not Angel Studios is also shadow purchasing tickets to boost sales can't be proven, obviously, but I wouldn't put it past them. These "conspiracies" have all served to market the movie and boost ticket sales.

As for Disney trying to keep the movie shelved, that's also a lie. Yes, Disney did technically shelve the movie when they bought Fox, since it didn't exactly correspond with its family-friendly brand, but they had no problem with the movie being released under a different studio. The actual reason Sound of Freedom was in "production hell" for five years was because Tim Ballard kept trying to milk donations. Despite the fact that filming wrapped up in 2018, he kept asking for more and more and more. He used people's faith and understandably emotional response to something as wicked as pedophilia to rake in millions. That's what Ballard is really about, money and stardom. In the movie, there's even a post-credit message where Jim Caviezel says the movie was held back to "maximize its distribution and raise awareness about child sex trafficking".

Translation: Ballard greedy.

Ballard himself admitted the accuracy of this movie "isn't important", and that he just wanted to get the movie out to "spread the word". By that, he of course means the Christian word—but why should fighting child sex trafficking be tied to religion? At the end of the day, Sound of Freedom is a vanity project, and it spreads incredibly dangerous misinformation. Stranger still, Ballard left the OUR just prior to the debut of Sound of Freedom, a fact he's neglected to mention in every interview regarding the movie. It's not clear why he left, but it seems that he fled after an internal investigation into the organisation began. That's not too suspicious or anything. My guess is authorities are trying to find out were all that missing money went, and Ballard doesn't want to be there when they figure it out.

By the way, that final line you hit me with; "God's children are not for sale", the line from the movie that Ballard claims a fellow agent whispered to him while on a case, as well as the title of the movie, which another agent supposedly said to Ballard after a giant rescue operation—those were lies, too. No agents ever said that to him. The police reports for those cases, as well as the agents Ballard supposedly quoted, all said he was the last to arrive on the scene and those conversations never happened.

Ballard cannot be trusted and Sound of Freedom is based on a lie. It's a scam. Everything he does is a scam. All he cares about is spreading his ideology, making money, and looking like a superhero. And this is only the tip of the iceberg. Look into his other companies, and into the ex-military soldiers and police officers who left OUR because of how poorly trained their people are when it comes to rescue operations.

Every sane person knows pedophilia and human trafficking is wrong, but giving your money to Qanon-adjacent, right-wing leaning, LGBTQ+-hating, Catholic Church-sympathising, fame-chasing, money-hungry, perpetual liar Tim Ballard isn't going to help.

The best way to help out is learning about the signs of child trafficking. Keep an eye out for any children that might be getting abused. If you suspect something, report it, don't be a silent bystander. Volunteer within your community to make sure the children in your area have food and resources, support LGBTQ+ youth, and watch the other adults around you to ensure they're not acting inappropriately. You can also donate to social programs that create safe spaces for children and even apply for jobs that specialise in these fields. Don't go to see a movie just because it aligns with your religious beliefs, feel sad for a little while, then sit on your ass and let Tim Ballard handle everything.

#sound of freedom #tim ballard #jim caviezel #christianity #child trafficking #propaganda #angel studios #I can't believe you made me defend Disney

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nerdyvocals · 10 months

Text

9 People to Know Better (except I'm not tagging 9 people)

I don't normally do tag games, but I got tagged in this twice (by @jealous-kippen and @remmixx, my beloveds <3) so here I am! (also as I'm writing this out I am realizing that while both posts were titled the same way, it looks like they had different question prompts??? So I'm just gonna combine the two)

Favorite Color: Purple! Any shade will have my heart but I am partial to more red-toned purples. (PV, if that means anything to anyone who sees this other than me, you know who you are)

Currently Reading: Three things! In terms of actual books, I've been slowly making my way through the Riordanverse since my university did The Lightning Thief in my second year (first school in my state to do it once the rights were released!) since I somehow never got into Percy Jackson as a kid, and I'm currently on Son of Neptune. I'm also one like my third or fourth re-read of Eurydice by Sara Ruhl, since that's the play I'm designing the costumes for for my senior project. And in terms of fanfic, I woke up to a notification about this yesterday and Actually Screeched.

Last Song: Dial Drunk by Noah Kahan (ft. Post Malone), which was a bit of an accident. I use siri to request music while I'm driving and I asked for Dial Drunk and was singing along until I got jumpscared by the slight difference before Post Malone's verse. Although if you look at my spotify, the ROTPL album has been on repeat for weeks.

Currently Watching (Series): I've been hyperfixated on ROTPL and have watched it over a dozen times at this point, which is probably not healthy, so I put on NCIS last night for background noise while I ate dinner and accidentally watched like six episodes.

Currently Watching (Movie): Saw the Barbie movie the night before the actual opening with my coworkers (We don't cross picket lines people! I was not asked nor invited by any company, and I paid full price for my ticket. There's a one-screen theatre in the town where I'm doing summer stock, this relic from the 50's, and they were able to get access to the film a day early and did a special first come first serve premiere.) and we all sobbed the entire way through.

Current Obsession: Rise of the Pink Ladies. Full stop. I'd seen clips of it when it first aired in April but I was iffy on it in spite of how good it looked. Like most, I'm a little tired of reboots and remakes, and while I did clock Cynthia as being queer within two seconds, (I believe my exact words were "That's either a very butch lesbian or the eggiest egg to ever egg.") I was Convinced it was a queerbait situation. Plus I was nearing finals and didn't have time to get into a new show. But then Crushing Me was trending on tiktok and I realized this was not queerbait, so I put it on to have something playing while I packed for summer stock and it's been the only thing I can think about since mid May. It got me writing fanfic again for the first time in years, if that tells you anything. Speaking of,

Currently Working On: A follow-up to my previous fic, Steady, Steady! I wanted to have it up this week, but it is a behemoth. I'm a little over halfway through my plot outline and I'm at 10,441 words. Fun fact, this will be my longest single-chapter fic so far. Not just in the fandom, not just on AO3, but ever (so far!)

No-Pressure Tagging: @merely-a-player, @penguin-writes-books, @el-fandom-birb, @marley-barnes112, @isweartheyregayyourhonor, and @look-at-those-niceass-rocks (since I've already dragged you back to tumblr kicking and screaming)

#tag game #this was fun #and also longer than I expected

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nervousgardenerkid · 2 years

Text

I wish I knew you wanted me.

a/n: okay i honestly didn't think it was gonna be this long,,,,so i had to split it into two parts LMAO part two will probably(?) be up tomorrow? or on tuesday :D enjoy this steve angst mwah mwah! credit to gif owner!

read part two here!

There was one thing that was clear in Steve Harrington’s crazy upside-down life.

He doesn't get the girl. He never does. He didn't get Nancy, he didn't get the girl he went on a day with last week, and he most definitely, didn't get you. He watched with a glare as you and….you and…okay Steve doesn't even remember his name, he just doesn't know if he chooses to forget it on purpose or if he's gotten in one too many unsuccessful fights.

“Jesus dude,” Robin mumbled as she came back with a small stack of tapes in her arms. “You know, if you stare a little harder a laser may magically appear and vaporize him.”

“You think so?” he mumbled while glaring a little harder as she suggested.

“No, you dingus!”

He let out a sigh and finally looked away from your giggling figure while running his hands through his hair.

“I just don't get what she sees in him!”

“Maybe it's the fact that he, oh I don't know confessed to her, unlike someone I know.”

Steves let out a sigh and tried to fight the urge to look over at you but failed. You were wrapped in the arms of…whatever his name is, smiling while trying to choose a movie.

“For the last time Robin she didn’t feel that way about me, and she sure as hell doesn't now.”

Robin rolled her eyes and clutched a tape in her hands trying so hard not to throw it at him. She can't let the intrusive thoughts win, not today at least.

“My god it's a good thing you're good-looking cause clearly your brain refuses to work.”

Steve turned to her with a smirk and ran a hand through his hair.

“You think I'm good-looking?”

“I think you're an idiot.”

“Fuck you.”

Robin didn't have time to register the fact that you were coming up to the counter before she launched the tape at Steve only to let out a groan as he caught it with no trouble.

“You guys are kinda cute together,” a deep voice said

You let out a snort only to cover it up with a cough.

“Oh, we're not-”

“It's all platonic with a capital P over here Mason.”

Mason! That was his name…ew. Steve thought while he stepped forward ready to take Pretty In Pink out of your pretty hands.

“Hi, Steve,” you said with a smile.

It took everything in him to not fall to his knees and finally confess everything he's been feeling for nearly a year. Who knew saving the world multiple times together could cause so many emotions to bloom? His thoughts were cut short when he felt a foot step on his not so lightly. He curses whoever pissed off Robin today cause he's the one who has to deal with her temper.

“Hey Y/N, just pretty in pink for today?”

You opened your mouth but Mason cut you off.

“Yeah, just that stupid movie for today.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed Mason away from you.

“It's not a stupid movie! I saw it at the theatres with Steve and it was really good!”

Mason let out a snort and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

“Well since you both love it so much then maybe you can watch it with him.” he sneered out.

you let out a sigh and turned to look at him while mumbling “Mason cmon, we were having such a good day-”

“Actually I'd love to watch it with them,” Steve said while standing a little straighter than before. Robin let out a quiet “oh boy” before making herself comfortable against the counter.

Mason scoffed and stepped around you that way he was face to face with Steve. “You know, if I didn't know any better, I’d think king steve is trying to get a date with my girl.”

Steve swallowed hard trying not to say what he wanted to say. Maybe he was asking you on a date despite you having a boyfriend. Hell, maybe he could treat you better. No, scratch that, he could definitely treat you better than Mason could. His thoughts were cut short when you let out an awkward chuckle.

“Okay Mason that's enough,-”

“No, I don't get why you hang out with this loser. He's a high school has been and he doesn't have anything going for him besides this lame-ass job! Doesn't he babysit on the weekends or something?”

Robin let out a scoff and stood by Steve.

“The hell are you talking about with this whole high school has been? What exactly are you doing with your life?”

Mason let out a scoff and said something to Robin that caused bickering between them. Steve tuned them out and looked down at his hands. He knew he didn't like Mason but now he really doesn't like him, although he did make a couple of points. In Steve’s eyes, he didn't have much going for him. Every day was the same. Wake up, go to work, take robin home, pick up Dustin, Mike, and Lucas to take them to the arcade, then he goes home to repeat everything the next day. Oh god, he is a loser. He blinks rapidly trying to push down the negative thoughts and emotions that are stirring inside him.

Don't cry, Steve. Whatever you do, don't cry in front of the girl of your dreams and her stupid, mean ugly- his thoughts are cut off when he hears a loud smack echo throughout the store.

“We're fucking done,” you said with venom replacing the usual sweet tone you have.

“Are you seriously-”

“Yes! Yes, I'm seriously dumping your ass in Family Video in front of my best friends! Get the hell away from me!”

“Have fun walking home then!” Mason shouted as he stormed out of family video.

The tension in the air was thick as Robin cleared her throat.

“Steve you should totally take Y/N home.”

Steve turned his head towards her his mouth slightly opened as he mumbled out a small “huh?”

Robin kicked his shin and tilted her head towards you. “Y/N. Home. Take. Her.”

“Oh. Oh! Y-yeah I can totally take you home!” Steve rushed out while fumbling around for his keys.

“But what about robin-”

Robin waved her hand and insisted Nancy would pick her up cause she needed to rant about Jonathan to someone. Steve nodded his head and jumped over the counter ready to walk out the door with you until Robin said something.

“Hey Y/N?”

You nodded your head at her signaling for her to continue. She put a hand over her heart and glanced at Steve before looking back at you.

“I love you.”

You tilted your head to the side and furrowed your eyebrows. “Thanks Robs…I love you too.”

Robin let out a sigh of relief and chuckled.

“Wow, that just…it feels nice to get off of my chest.” she locked eyes with Steve and cleared her throat “It’s almost freeing in a way! Like, oh I don't know like someone could say it and fix so many problems!”

Steve rolled his eyes as he got the not-so-subtle message from a robin. He flipped her the bird and sent her a sweet smile.

“Robin…did you hit your head today?”

Robin’s jaw dropped and put her hand near her heart. “I just told you I loved you and that's all you have to say?”

“I said I loved you too-”

“Well!” Steve chuckled out “we better get going bye robin I owe you one!” Steve said while he guided you out the door.

“Idiots,” she mumbled. “They're both idiots.”

The ride back to your house was silent. You and Steve we're both too caught up in your thoughts, what if you thought he was a loser and that's why you never liked him? Why the hell did robin randomly say she loved you?

“Hey, so I'm sorry-”

“Steve I'm sorry-”

You both stopped talking and let out small laughs.

“You first,” you said while turning towards him.

He nodded his head putting the car in park once he reached your driveway and let out a sigh. “Um, sorry,” he started “about you and Jason-”

“Mason.”

“Whatever the fuck his name is.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile on your face and grabbed his hand. He tried to ignore the warmth that danced along his face as he turned the other way praying that you didn't see.

“Don't worry about him. I'm sorry about all the stuff he said about you.”

A dry chuckle escaped his lips, he shrugged his shoulders.

“‘S fine. He kinda had a point.”

“Steve no-”

He shook his head as he let go of your hand and anxiously chewed on his fingernails. “It's like everyone was right about me ya know? I-I don't have anything going for me, and my closest friends are a group of high school children. I love them, I do but,” he puts his hands in the air trying to find the right words. “I see everyone I use to know find something for themselves. They found their dream career, and they find the perfect college to attend,” he locks eyes with you. “They find that perfect person who always makes them smile. The person who can make everything seem fine even when the world goes to shit. The person who makes the feel, fuck my mind is blanking.” he mumbles while snapping his fingers trying to find the right words.

"Makes them feel whole,” you whisper.

“Yes! That's the word! God, you're so smart.”

“Have you found that person?” you asked. You find yourself silently praying he says no, and if he says no you pray that he opens his god damn eyes and finally sees you. He nods his head and your heart drops as you see a smile make its way on his face.

“Yeah, yeah I have.”

You nod your head and sniffle while letting out a shaky laugh. “Cool. I mean, that's good. Um, I think I'm gonna head inside now. Pretty sure my parents are wondering where I am.”

Steve feels his shoulders drop and he clears his throat.

“Yeah. Yeah of course. I'll um, see you around?”

You nod your head and mumble “thanks for the ride.” while slipping out of the car and walking into your home. Steve stares at the front door and blinks multiple times. Every bone in his body is aching to run after you. His arms are dying to wrap themselves around you, and his lips crave leaving small kisses on your delicate skin. He wants to run to you, he wants you to be his but for some reason, he can't bring himself to get out of the car. The fear of rejection is much too strong and overpowering every other emotion he's feeling.

He reverses out of your driveway and makes his way home with a heavy heart, mumbling how stupid he was for even thinking he had a chance. He knew robin would kill him for not confessing how he felt but he has a bad habit of biting his tongue in situations like this.

If only he knew how you wished that he wanted you.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington fluff

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