#sing movie jude

[anadiasmount]

star night - jb blurb

masterlist | jude's masterlist

psa 🗣️: wow. what a week of ucl football! congratulations to all the teams that qualified 🤍 here's a tiny blurb with jude after his win yesterday as requested!! so proud of this man guys i can't :((

the strands on the bottom of your scarf had become your best friend throughout the game. making small knots or twisting strands together. nervous was one way to describe how you felt, but the huge bubble and pit in your tummy said more. covering your eyes when attempted goals were made, and gasping out reliefs when they were saved.

it was a total of 120 minutes, played, and in the end, penalties would determine who would advance. your eyes were glued onto the familiar tall figure, the 5 on the back, the one player who proved their worth after many talks and banters. you could tell he was tired, though he gave it his all.

the stadium went quiet for you, and all you heard was the rapid pulse in your veins as seconds passed. agony, cheers, tears, and laughter. it felt surreal, time went slow, and all you could focus on was him celebrating on the pitch, brown eyes gleaming with delight and relief as his team passed onto the next round.

he was over the moon, clapping, dancing, singing, hugging his teammates, just overridden with emotion. your eyes locked almost immediately, jude not being able to hide a big smile on his lips when seeing you. you waited by the rails, holding a towel and a jacket for him.

jude engulfed you into a tight and rushed hug, out of breath from running on pure adrenaline. you could feel the rapid heartbeat of his against your chest, his jersey clanging tight after running all evening. you laughed, cleaning his neck, sides, and face that glistened with sweat. "we did it baby... we did it," was all jude said as he leaned his forehead onto yours.

you held his face, kissing the bridge of his nose, "you did my love. i'm so so proud of you, look around and take it all in." jude couldn't help but dig into your neck, shoulders shaking as he let himself full relax against you. you could hear a small sniffle, jude pulling back, your thumbs catching the tears, and wiping them away from his pretty face. "i can't- i don't know how to feel. it happened so fast!" exclaimed your boyfriend in disbelief.

"what matters is that you did it, all the way to the end. you made history here tonight, keep it in here," you touched his temple, "and feel it here," placing your palm over his heart. "i love you y/n so much," he relished your love, wanting to stay here with you and never go back. he would die a happy man after this moment. "thank you for being with every time, between the good in the bad. you're the best thing that has ever happened to me, pretty girl."

neither of you could care less about the cameras, stares, or shouts from fans. this was his moment with you, and jude had just that. you held the back of his head, thumb brushing his nape, as all you could do was stare deep into each other's eyes with smiles as if you were kids at a candy store. "kiss me, kiss me y/n," pleaded your boyfriend, closing his watery eyes as you pulled him into a welcoming kiss.

lips molding as you let every sentiment of stress and anxiety from the game fly away. tasting his minty scent, as he deepened the kiss, his hand wrapped around your waist, and one holding your face, just like in the movies, except this was reality. you pulled back and kissed all over his face, jude shutting his eyes tight and crinkling his nose in bliss as you congratulated him.

"congratulations my golden boy."

[plumppies]

Where it Began

 Jude Bellingham

Word count: 900 I think

Drea’s note: Wrote this a while again. Kinda short but I could turn it into a series if requested. Enjoy!

Different coloured lights emanate from outside the busy club building. It’s been booked by a few footballers from Real Madrid and you happened to be invited.

You were somewhat reluctant about joining the boys at the club as you fixed up your hair and headed out of your hotel room. You got into the car that would be taking you to the club and as soon as you got there Vini was first to greet you and walk you in. The loud hip hop music thumps around the packed building and the rhythm slowly merges with your heartbeat.

Clubbing is definitely not your thing. The mere thought of having sweaty, sticky bodies pressed against yours made your skin crawl but you pushed it away as Vini led you by hand and passed a large number of drunk bodies to the football group.

“Y/n!” Jude yelled your name excited as you appeared behind his good friend. His eyes darted to you holding hands with Vini but he pushed any assumptions away as he approached you. Jude was the one who invited you out for the night. You’d much rather spend time with your close friends watching a movie in a small cosy area like your apartment or theirs.

“Jude!” you smile and wrap your arms around his middle as he pulls you in for a hug. You and Jude were not friends per say. He met you through Vini and as you saw him more, you became more knowledgeable of each other but no clear friendship came out of it.

“How are you?” You ask as he passes you a longneck beer, you gladly take it and take a long swig of the bitter liquid awaiting his response.

His eyes concentrate on your lips enclosing the opening of the glass bottle; how he’d love to have your lips on his- concentrate Jude.

“I’m alright,” he shakes himself out of his fantasies, moving his focus back to you, “ how are you, y/n?” he yells back over the loud music but before you could answer, you’re dragged away from him by another one of his teammates who take you to a new group of people.

To your lack of knowledge, Jude curses under his breath at the disturbed opportunity to talk to you.

***

You mingle around the large group of footballers as the hours go by. You dance and sing to your favourite tracks that the hyped DJ plays and chat to the boys and a few girls that they brought along. You’re dancing to a slower track now, Vini’s hands are playfully wrapped around your waist with yours playfully around his neck as you mock a typical romantic dance moment. You giggle as he makes kissy faces to you and you slap his chest jokingly.

Jude’s watching all of this. He is quite tipsy. A mix of jealousy and anger churn in his gut as he thinks of how he should be the one holding you like that, how he should be the one making you smile, how he should be making you giggle. At some point the jealousy has gotten too much for him to handle. He’s fed up with himself for dragging what churns in his heart, so he gets up and strides to you. He places his palm to your shoulder and you turn your head with an arched brow.

“Can I talk to you?” he yells over the increasing volume of the music. You nod confused and leave Vinicius who makes his way to his friends. You follow behind Jude, pushing through the crowd of sweaty, intoxicated bodies before you finally reach the club exit.

He pushes the door open for you and you walk out. The loud music is now only a timid background noise. It’s cold outside. You wrap your hands around your chest to try to warm yourself up.

“Here,” He says, handing over his hoodie, you smile softly and accept it. His rich scent swirls in your nostrils as you put it on and look up at him. You’ve been around him long enough to know when something isn’t sitting right with him so you ask and he looks away.

“So what did you want to talk to me about, Jude?” you stare at him as you play with the hem of his oversized baby black hoodie. He turns his back to you, rubbing the back of his neck and then faces you again.

“There’s something I really, really need to tell you, y/n and I don't know how you say it.” He huffs. “I’m not very good at expressing my feelings and I might ramble and-” he huffs again.

He takes a few steps closer to you and looks down at you. You can feel the heat of his body. His heart is beating hard, so hard he fears you can hear it but he continues.

“What I’m trying to say, y/n is that I have feelings for you…romantic feelings for you and I don’t know how to deal with them,” he sniffles and rubs his nose nervously.

You look up at him and a slightly surprised expression and smile.

“Jude…”

“Yes…” he’s regretting coming out tonight now. He should have kept his mouth shut and maybe gotten drunk instead.

His eyes dart away from you and his body stiffens. You don’t say anything else and before Jude could process what was happening. You wrap your arms around his neck and press your body to his. His own body relaxes around yours and his arms wrap around your waist, completely looking forward to the new relationship that would blossom after tonight.

[macybeckham7]

Jobe or someone recording you and Jude dancing in the kitchen

Jude was shirtless with just a checkered pyjamas trousers working wearing his white shirt. You were in the kitchen making a snack for your movie night with the Bellingham brothers. You were singing and dancing a Tangled song, Jude was into it just as much as you, with you both taking it in turns as if you were in the movie. Jobe from his spot on the sofa had a perfect view of you performance. He captions it ‘come and have a quiet movie night they said’. Fans all loving that the two of you were in your element, kicking your legs, shaking your bum and acting like you were on the West End stage.

[castiwls]

"don't touch my kid"

dean winchester as a girl dad...

Would deffo cry when he first held her

Makes little mixtapes of her fav songs to play in the impala 🥹 (my dad did this 🥹)

Is the parent who screams the loudest at any sort of graduation or awards ceremony. (Sam tells him to shut up)

“WOOO” *loud clapping* “THATS MY GIRL!”

She act embarrassed but actually love it <3

He also very proudly tells the WORST dad jokes

(He thinks there comedic genius)

Determined to be present in her life and keep hunting away.

Going back to the mixtape thing he DEFFO has a guilty pleasure one (he is a HUGE secret swiftie I feel)

(Sam and her found it once and Dean pleaded ignorance)

LOVES to go on late night car drives with her.

Also loves movie marathons

( he will show her all his favs)

I feel like he would give really thoughtful birthday gifts aswell

Deffo made like personal mixtapes or little photo albums and stuff

He would also get like little token gifts from all the states they travel to <3

MATCHING HALLOWEEN COSTUMES

When she’s a kid watches scooby doo with her all the time.

(Biggest dilf)

Sings hey Jude as a lullaby (like his mum did 🥹)

Puts any photo they drew or something they make on the fridge for everyone to see (proud dad)

LOVED playing tea parties

One time she found a stray kitten and brought it home and dean was adamant that it was not staying. Later that night she found the kitten curled up on him.

“Awh look how cu-“ “we’re not keeping it.”

[inlovewhithafairytale]

Promise you wont leave(flashback series)

⛥⛧masterlist

⛥⛧ Supernatural masterlist

Dean Winchester x Little sister

Dean was woken up by a whimper from the other side of the motel room where Yn was sleeping in the couch.

He heard the soft sound of sobbing and frowned making his way across the dark room quietly.

"Yn are you ok?" He asked softly putting a hand on her shoulder.

Yn's body stiffened for a moment before she turned on the makeshift bed to look at him tear stairs on her face.

"I had a nightmare" she said quietly as she hugged Mr. Cottons close to her body.

"Alright then, move over" dean sat down next to her and pulled her into his lap hugging her. The 3 year old leaned into his arms.

"Want to talk about it" dean asked her softly.

"It was from that movie we saw last night, it was scary. I dreamt i saw a ghost and it wanted to kill me" the little girl said quietly sniffling her sobs.

The 15 year old mentally cursed himself. How could have he forgotten Yn had been watching too? "Dont worry. No ghost would even dare to come get you. Dad and me and sammy will stop them"

"Are ghost real."

"No. Dont worry about it" came the short reply. Of course they were. But Yn didnt need to know that. Not now. Not so young.

"But he seemed real in my dream"yn sobbed quietly curling against her older brother's chest. "Im scared Dea"

"its fine booger, im here" Dean said softly, in the voice he only used for Yn.

"you pinky promise you wont leave?" Yn asked her teary eyes looking up at dean in the dark and she held up he pinky.

With a small chuckle Dean interlocked his pinky with hers "I promise" he sighed softly and held her close "want to know what my mom did when i was your age and scared?"

Yn nodded.

And there, in the dark of the motel room, their father and brother sleeping soundly in their beds, Dean brough up the song he treasured most in the world. The song Mary used to sing to him, that she used as a lullaby.

Hey Jude, don't make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better. Remember to let her into your heart, Then you can start to make it better.

Yn curled closer against him holding Mr. Cottons tightly and her tears stopping as she listened

Hey Jude, don't be afraid. You were made to go out and get her. The minute you let her under your skin, Then you begin to make it better.

And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain, Don't carry the world upon your shoulders. For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool By making his world a little colder.

Hey Jude, don't let me down. You have found her, now go and get her. Remember to let her into your heart, Then you can start to make it better.

Up to now Yn was sleep, her eyes closed and her mouth slightly parted.

Dean looked down at her his gaze softening.

"Good night jude"

𓆩⚝𓆪 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑* -⃝⃤ *⭑ ๋࣭⭒𖤐 𓆩⚝𓆪SUPERNATURAL𓆩⚝𓆪 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑* -⃝⃤ *⭑ ๋࣭⭒𖤐 𓆩⚝𓆪

Taglist: @bisforbuse

[wanderingpages]

peach!! can you write a car sex jurdan smut? it can be short but the concept is so sexy 😭 on my knees rn

∞

“You’re trouble,” Cardan had told me minutes prior, but he repeats it now, more wary than he had been when he said it by the bar. Maybe I had used him then, because it sounded like flirting to me and I so badly needed his help. It’s how I’d always gotten what I needed before. Maybe I thought he was no different, so I took him down to a hall no one ever used and pressed him up against the wall. I smiled at him, feeling shy from his attention but not wanting to admit it. My hands had wound around his neck, and his fingertips traced up my shoulder, guiding my hair to one side. He placed a kiss on my throat and I felt it in the pit of my stomach. Then further up he trailed his soft lips and I gasped. I gripped at his hair to guide his lips to mine. He tasted heady and like the scotch I had given him. Cardan had cradled the back of my head, tilting me as he pressed his tongue into my mouth to open and deepen the kiss. He felt like mine, I felt a little guilty answering his question.

“Jude,” he had murmured against my skin, kissing a patch from my mouth to my throat, then his lips were by my ears and he asked, “What do you want from me, princess?” When I told him, he immediately fell back, only half in a daze but vehemently shaking his no – but I won in the end, because here we are, where I asked to be. I feel only a little remorseful and he’s telling me I’m trouble again.

I tilt my body, trying to get a closer look at the scene, but no matter how much I shift and turn, I can’t quite make out who my father is with, nor what he’s saying. My finger absently finds the buttons on the side of the car, but before I can lower the window, Cardan takes hold of my wrist. I’m already practically on top of him, my knees bracing against the console from the passenger’s side, and a hand planted firmly onto his lap. So it shouldn’t bother me when he pulls me closer, tightening his hold on me. Cardan’s warm fingers encircle my wrists, his thumb right where my veins sing.

I’m alive, he should note. I give him a look, eyes unable to stray too far from his still pink and swollen lips. I did that, I think to myself. I wonder how many other can say the same. And then I realize I don’t actually want to consider that at all. Cardan narrows his dark eyes at me, “Don’t even think about it, Jude.” My name on his tongue always felt like sin, but it’s when he teases me with my pseudo-reign that I feel like penance should only a breath away.

“But -” my mouth feels dry, searching for excuses but he shakes his head, halting my explanation.

“We’re not even supposed to be here,” he seethes, “and if you think we’re not being watched right now, you’re sorely mistaking.” I find myself pouting when he firmly guides me back into my seat, forcing me to gather the rest of my surroundings. We’re in a secluded area, backroads lined with trash bags and oily pathways between buildings. My father is currently having a “business meeting,” as he explained before abruptly leaving. I’ve only ever seen business meetings that take place between alleyways in movies that involve the mob.

When I tell Cardan this, pointedly looking at my father’s silhouette, he gives me a dry kind of look I choose to ignore. So long as he’s looking at me, I suppose. He was left in charge of watching over the club in Dad’s absence, but we both knew it just meant watching over me.  I was working the bar tonight, a job my father now is incredibly annoyed with, despite the fact it had been his suggested punishment for my overspending a bit.

“Just because there’s no limit does not mean you get to test that theory, Jude.” I roll my eyes now, because jokes on him; I'm a hit at parties now that I know to mix drinks and do little flairs that I’m quite proud of. I like to impress Cardan with them when he leaves Dad’s office and orders something boring on the rocks. I’m nearly positive that’s the charm that had him following me to that hall and led to him driving me right where we are currently parked.

“Haven’t you heard the saying? Curiosity killed the girl.”

“It does not go like that,” I tell Cardan, unamused.

I’m no idiot, I know Madoc’s club is only half of where our family income comes from, and the guests he entertains in the VIP section are never just guests. Business partners maybe, buyers or sellers, I could never tell. It was the same as usual until Dad had gotten a phone call in the middle of his hosting. It had seemed as if he had been waiting for the call all evening. However, him leaving abruptly made me too antsy to stand idle and make vodka cranberries all night. It always felt like the entire staff was in on a big secret I wasn’t apart of. It didn’t help that lately, Dad had been a little worn down, coming home tired or frustrated, answering calls curtly, stuck in his own head looking haggard. I’m allowed to worry.

“You didn’t,” Cardan says, pausing the sudden gnawing I’d been doing on my bottom lip, “by the way. Your bar tricks are not what got you into my car.” I guess he’s a mind reader now too.

“You’re telling me you weren’t impressed with my juggling?” I didn’t even break a bottle this time.

He sighs, “you probably could have just asked and I’d taken you.” I raise an eyebrow, not believing him since even with all my womanly whiles and eccentric charm, I still had to plead with him to get out here. The side of his lip tilts up in a smirk. “I just like watching you beg.” He shrugs, “So, you would have begged.” His warm voice sends a shiver down my spine. “Maybe I would have gotten you on your knees.” He could still get me on my knees if he asked nicely, but I don’t tell him that.  Cardan glances out the window, making a face at the two men. “There’s no point in being here if you can’t even hear what’s being said.”

I nod at this, finding my composure. “Exactly, Mr. Greenbriar.” I grin, “We should move closer.”

“No,” he tells me. He fumbles for the lock but my door is swung open before he manages to press the button. His eyes widen, “Jude,” he scowls quietly when I give him a triumphant grin. Without waiting, I duck for cover, sneaking up closer to the building. “Fuck me,” I hear Cardan moan. “Jude, you idiot,” he mutters, silently getting out of the car and following me. When he’s caught up, he pushes me behind him as we near the corner of the building. “You’re gonna get us both killed.”

“Are you not carrying?” I ask a bit startled. “Wait so that wasn’t a gun in your pocket? You really were excited to see me?” His hand comes over my mouth, and my eyes widen in shock, absolutely enthralled with the way he’s decided to manhandle me tonight. I’m always the one testing boundaries, so maybe my heart pounds a little faster at our proximity more than the shooters probably ready to gun us down – if Cardan is right about us being watched.

“Have you always been this bratty?” I wiggle my eyebrows at him instead of giving him an actual answer. He looks heavenwards before moving to stand behind me. One hand is now across my chest, the other still firmly over my mouth. I lick him but he doesn’t let off. “Of course, I’m armed, but I’m not Superman, princess. I don’t even think I have 15 rounds,” he says the last part more to himself, but that’s news to me anyways.

We lean closer to the alleyway, bracing our shoulders on to the bricks of the building. Whatever Dad and his friend are talking about is only slightly less muffled than before. Its longer than I expect to finally make out pretty keywords like “shipment” and “missing equipment,” and then something that has me ridged.

“You have three daughters don’t you, Madoc?”

“Don’t bring them into this,” Dad responds clearly. My heart beats even faster, I'm all too aware of Cardan’s palm searing hot against the unsteady thumping. He pulls me even tighter against him. Dad says, “I came in good faith to hear you out. You’re the one who lost my supplies.”

“You’re the one who lost two of my guys,” the other man counters, not really angry and seemingly uncaring for the men in question. He makes my skin crawl on sight alone.

“That’s not my -”

The other man holds up a finger, cutting my father off, offending me in the process. His phone had been ringing and Cardan stiffens, as the man answers, eyes still boring holes into my father. “Yes…really? Okay...” He hangs up and tilts his head, “Good faith? Someone’s tailing us.”

“I didn’t -” whatever my dad says, I don’t get to hear. Cardan is cursing, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me towards the car. It’s a struggle because my entire body wants to run to Dad, but the hold Cardan has on me is iron tight. A shot goes off and my body seizes. My eyes go so wide they hurt. I only wanted to know what Dad was hiding, wanted in on the big secret everyone knew but me – wanted some type of undeniable proof so he couldn’t brush this away, brush me away. More shots are fired and I’m too far to know who’s shooting at who.

Cardan pulls open the car door and shoves me in before rushing to the other side. I don’t even have my seatbelt on when he pulls out of the spot. I hear more bangs ricocheting and panic begins to set in, “Cardan! Dad -”

“He’s fine – Balekin wasn’t lying.”

“Balekin?”

Cardan doesn’t exactly answer me, but continues, “Madoc definitely brought back up. No good faith and all that.” He waves his hand and it freaks me out that both hands are not on the steering wheel. It also unnerves me that Cardan knows my Dad’s tells more than me. “We, on the other hand…” he trails off, shifting gears and stepping on the gas. My heart flies into my throat. I hurriedly manage to snap on the seatbelt, but even then, I don’t think that’ll protect me at all if Cardan decides to bend us into a tree or light pole or worse – another vehicle. “God,” he mutters, “you’re so reckless, Jude” he mumbles, “absolute fucking brat,” he continues. My cheeks flare pink but I hold my tongue, scared I might vomit if I talk. I grip at the leather seats so tight I feel my knuckles start to cramp. “And me – I follow you like a fucking dog.” Outside is a blur of lights and the night sky. I'm too scared to look at the speedometer but I know it’s beyond what the legal limit is. The one reprieve is that the road is clear for now.

“I think where in a fifty zone,” I finally manage in a squeak. Cardan side eyes me and I let out a yelp, “Oh my god, pay attention to the road!”

My hysterical tone eases him somehow, because he begins to relax. He eyes the rear view mirror and shrugs, taking a hand off the steering wheel again. My heart is beating so fast that my eyes seem to shake at every little pump. “We’re good,” he lets me know. He smirks at me and when I look sick at his lack of attention to the road, he tells me, “Crack the widow, let your hair down and all.” He does it for me with his free hand reaching to the top of my head, pulling at the clip securing my bun. It unravels just as the window slides down. Air gusts through my hair and stings my face.

My ears are filled with the rush of wind. “I…” My words are lost in the noise.

“It’s okay, princess, I’m a good driver,” he promises.

“What are you,” I manage, hoarse, “Dad’s getaway driver?” he shifts gears and I'm seeing double. Soon we’ll be doing donuts in the parking lot.

He shrugs, “When he needs me to be.” I remember what he said about curiosity killing the girl and that must explain the stroke I’m having. I feel like an idiot – a little girl trying to be much bigger than she is. What the hell would Dad even say if I go to him about tonight? He’d probably gaslight me. I shakily look back, wondering if we’re being followed. I calm when I see that its just us. “Do you trust me?”  

I nod my head and settle back into the seat. I try to get my mind off of this, thinking about our kiss from earlier instead. Had only an hour passed since then? I should apologize for leading him on only to get him here. Except I hadn’t really led him on. I’ve wanted Cardan since the moment Dad introduced us. I think him working directly under my father only fueled my desire more. It felt very taboo. However, those thoughts only race my pulse for a completely different reason. Slowly, I release my death grip on the seat and hold my hand out to Cardan. He raises a brow, but takes it anyway, letting me squeeze it tightly. “Yeah,” I whisper. I clear my throat, “I trust you.”

There’s a lot to take in, but I'm trying to stabilize my pulse instead. It’s like an onslaught of adrenaline wafting through me repeatedly and I can’t find a release. The car rolls to a stop just off the highway and into the cover of trees and shrubbery, This feels like an illegal spot to park, but what do I know? I watch in a stupor as the slim needle on the dashboard falls from somewhere in the hundreds down, down, down to 0. I find myself absolutely petrified but yet a giggle escapes me. Suddenly, I have this uncontrollable urge to laugh because if I don’t, I think I might cry.

“Are you okay?” Cardan reaches over and unclips my belt. He then brushes my hair back, forcing my gaze to his. He thumbs at my eyes, tearing up from the wind, and not at all because of the emotional turmoil I’m going through.

The rush that had been whipping past my ear had been halted so suddenly that my head begins to sway. I turn to look at him, uncaring for once how unput together I must look. “Dad…”

“He’s fine,” Cardan says again, sure of himself. “Are you?”

“Not dead,” I confirm, and he gives my hand a little squeeze. I give him a dazed look, and then, I smile softly at him. It must have been what he was waiting for. In one swift motion, Cardan tugs me over the console, guiding me to straddle is lap. My skirt hikes up and Cardan only pushes it up higher. There’s a pulse between my legs and when he pulls me down, his breath tickles my skin, filling me with heat all the way to the pit of my stomach.

“You’re okay,” he tells me quietly. “It’s okay, Jude.” I nod, placing my hands in his shoulder, fingers teasing at his dark curls. I stare at his neck, at the tendon there that I want to place my lip against. I bend down to do just that, letting his steady pulse beat against my skin. “Jude,” he murmurs, tilting his head to give me more access. When I press my lips on his skin, he sucks in a breath.

“I'm sorry,” I whisper, leaning up.

His hands run up my thighs, and if I had survived a shootout and a lone speed race, I don’t think I can survive Cardan and the way he looks at me right now. “For what?”

“Using you?”

Cardan chuckles, and reaches one hand up, working at the buttons of my shirt. Slowly, he pushes it off my shoulders, letting the material fall to the floor, all the while he’s admiring the swell of my breasts, contained only by sheer white lace. He looks up at me, gauging my come down from the adrenaline. I’m still utterly tweaked, and every touch of his is no help at all. My skin is on fire everywhere his fingertips touch. He teases a digit over my breast, up my neck and to my chin, pinching it between his fingers and pulling me forward. “I don’t think it counts,” he tells me. “I would have done this anyway,” he reminds me.

“Oh,” is all I can say.

His lips graze against mine and there’s a heat pooling between my legs. I shift, only to find him already hard and straining in his jeans. “Tell me to stop,” he mouths against me. I don’t. My eyes flutter and I hold on to him tighter. I pick at the buttons of his shirt, slowly undoing them until my cool hands can press firmly to his hard chest. His muscle seem to tighten when I graze them. Cardan holds my wrist gently this time, guiding it further down to his navel. “Come on princess, tell me this is a bad idea.” I stay silent. Even if it was a bad idea, I won’t let it stop. “Then open your mouth for me.”

My lips part for him and when our tongues meet, Cardan moans softly. He pulls me in closer, nipping at my bottom lip, sucking on it until my toes curl. His hand on my thigh slides over my ass and between my legs from behind. His fingers deftly rubbing at the already wet cotton and I gasp out, arching my neck, letting him trace his tongue down my skin. He pulls down a strap of my bra with his free hand, meeting my eyes and keeping my gaze as he lowers his head to kiss the tip of my breast. I inhale when his tongue laves my nipple, drawing it into his mouth. He sucks gently at first, finger rubbing over me just as soft. Then, he tugs my underwear to the side, now parting my pussy just as he begins to suck on me harder.

He makes a noise that vibrates against my skin. I hold his head against me, nearly close to weeping. His teeth graze my skin and I jump, hitting my head against the ceiling of the car. He pulls away from me, his lips obscenely wet and his eyes lidded. He reaches up, rubbing my head before feeling the side of his seat and pulling a lever to slowly recline the seat. “Sorry,” he says and I laugh, despite the ache in my breast and the throb in my pussy. I bite at my lip and undo his belt. “You’re so beautiful,” he tells me and my skin heats up. He pulls the other side of my bra down while I stroke his stiff cock. “Beautiful,” he repeats, I'm dripping between my thighs and his finger rubs me faster.

I go in for another kiss. Not short and sweet like I had been intending. This time Cardan kisses me rough and hard. There’s passion and ache between us. He reaches down to align the head of his cock where it needs to be. He rubs the tip between my slit with one hand, the other moves to come between us, rubbing soft circles into my clit. My knees strain on either side of him, and I let out a whimper when he teases the head shallowly. My hand finds his shoulders, and I cry out when he thrusts upwards, impaling me in one swift movement.

“Cardan!” My head falls forward, into his neck, and I try to muffle the cry into his skin. He gives me little time to adjust before he pulls out and slams back in. My muscles pulse when he pauses again, gripping him in spasms. He groans wrapping his arms around my back, moving me to his pace now, and I try to keep up with his steady pounding, but all I can find the energy to do is lay on top of him and take it as the length of him rubs every tender spot within me. I’m groaning and panting and he’s whispering my name.

“Jude…” my nipples feel so tender, brushing against his chest at every thrust, “God – you take me so good, don’t you?” I feel like I’m being spilt in two and its absolutely delicious. “Does that feel good, princess?”

“Yes,” I say, breathing hard. He thrusts into me harder, and harder and swear he’s rocking the car, but I want more of him, so much more. “Yes – Cardan…” my eyes get glassy, and I shut them tight, pressing my head onto his shoulder.  He slows down and grabs hold of my hair, pulling my head back. The slower he moves the deeper he seems to go; the tip of his dick kissing at my womb. I whimper, fingers flexing against his skin

“Look at me,” he whispers, sweat sheening his body now, slick and warm. His eyes are wild and full of lust and I'm so gone for him, so absolutely gone for this man. “Tell me,” Cardan requests in a slur. “Say it again.”

“It feels… so good,” I manage, “ah… more,” I beg and he’s ramming into me now, so hard and rough and then I say, “faster… please…” and it’s so frantic that I grab on to the headrest, bracing myself so I could take everything he gives me. There’s a tight knot at the pit of my stomach, and my cunt is dripping onto him. My heart hasn’t calmed down since the first gunshot but I find that I don’t mind the intense thumping anymore; it makes me feel so alive instead of being on the verge of death.

“Come for me, baby,” Cardan orders. He fucks me so recklessly, and his shaft rubs against my throbbing clit at every deep stroke. I feel delirious, holding my breath and clenching my stomach.

“Ah,” I cry out, back arching. His hand in my hair loosens to roam down my body. “I…Oh,” I bite at my lips, feeling the start of an orgasm that wouldn’t quite come. “I don’t know if I…” my confession trails off as I fall back with his guidance, careful not to honk the horn. He slows down again, torturing me. His finger finds my hardened clit and I scream when he presses down on it.

“You can,” Cardan lets me know. “You will,” he promises, in a breath. “For me, just for me.” My hands are frantic, unsure of what to hold onto. He pulls them around his neck, bringing me over him again. “I can go as long as it takes, princess,” he says into my ear before he kisses me there, then lower until his teeth latches on to the curve of my neck, all while fucking me hard and deep and so dirty, driving into me with little mercy. I’ve forgotten my name, it must be Princess with how much he says it. But it doesn’t matter, nothing matters, just him being inside of me does.

He fucks me endlessly and I bite down on his neck, mirroring him, screaming when I come. It feels so intense, I see stars as I shudder uncontrollably.  Cardan cries out too, slamming into me one last time, his climax mixing with mine and it seems unending when I shudder again, tightening my thighs against his. I gasp again when my stomach clenches, “Cardan,” I whimper, slowly coming down.

Cardans hand brushes down my back, soothing me as we both try to catch our breaths. He gently lifts me up, letting his cock slip from me. Come drips out of me, pouring onto him but he doesn’t care and I don’t think I care either. He smooths my hair back and pulls me in for a kiss, soft and slow this time. He reaches between us, and my body jolts when he pets my pussy, rubbing at the soreness sure to come soon. When we pull away, I ask, “Where did that come from?”

“Long time in the making,” he grins wryly, “you already knew that though.” I roll my eyes but jump at the vibration in his pants. His phone was buzzing. He pauses his hand on me and reaches into his pocket awkwardly. It’s my dad’s name on the screen and my cheek runs from a soft blush to full on crimson. Cardan unlocks it and reads the message. He looks up at me warily. “He’s asking why you left early from the bar.”

“Tell him I went for a ride.” I grin.

Cardan fights a smile, muttering, “trouble,” like a praise as he begins to type.

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day One

So I know this has probably been overdone by lots of people on lots of years but I haven't done it yet and I want to so here goes: I'm going to rewatch get back with the days matched up and catalogue my thoughts as I watch.

We don't get to see George and John saying hi to each other, but I'm struck by how careful they are with Ringo when he comes in. "Hi Ringo, happy new year." From both of them, with full eye contact soft, sweet voices. I wonder if they're really wanting to be so gentle with him after what happened at the end of August. Not like walking on eggshells at all, but just very "we're working on doing better because we care about you."

While Paul's not there, John is giving George full attention, leaning in to him, facing him while they sing, and George seems to really love it

But then Paul shows up and you can tell before we even see him that he's arrived, because suddenly John's gaze is gone from George. His eyebrows shoot up, he chin-tilts, and (this sounds insane I know but it's what I just watched) his singing drastically improves. He's putting effort in, performing.

Paul sits down and the shy little grins and glances and inside jokes (at George's expense and hypocritical of John) ensue immediately.

Ringo's jacket. The black with the maroon velvet collar. It's very cool and it's very unique to him. I don't see the other three pulling it off the way he does. He just has effortless swagger. If the other three wore something like that they'd look like try-hards.

George's sassy little hair flip. "oh, you're recording our conversation?"

Meanwhile John and Paul are back at it like magnets I swear. Turned in to each other, talking gibberish, and strumming

George with the deadpan sass again. "Maybe we should just learn a few songs first." Lol he's so stone cold.

"Oh please believe me." "Yes I will." Come on. Do you ever stop? And then the silent communication when they screwed up. We don't see Paul's face but John makes such a cute "oops sorry" face and they keep going.

Paul's literally so bossy. I find it such a turn on, really, watching it. Just because it's him being a genius who has a vision and sucks at social skills. But if I were in that band and he wasn't letting me hit I'd literally hate him.

John's so delighted with Paul's "everybody's got a hard on... Except for me and my monkey." Because that's one of the ways he often expresses his love for Paul and Paul's giving it back to him here. So John's just "Oh he made a joke about my song. He's teasing me. He does like me."

Paul literally diggs John's part of IGAF so fucking hard though. Like as soon as John's singing, Paul can not be still. Can not. He just thinks John's so so clever (and to be fair he is)

Crazy eye fucking continues

Then Paul's off to talk big boy plans with the daddies for a minute. (would love to know who he waved at then sucked his finger) "Is this your place, Twickenham?" Okay. Feeling out a potential daddy's pockets. I see you.

Obsessed with Yoko's emerald bag and how she got her little boyfriend to wear the exact color of Henley. Ken was literally made to be Barbies accessory and he's doing such a great job matching her purse. She's so pretty and cool.

It cracks me up how extremely nonchalant Ringo is about Magic Christian. (I LOVE that movie. Ringo is so hot in it and it's anti-capitalist so it's a winner). Dennis O'Dell is all "the scripts are marvelous." And Ringo's just "yeah you told me." And then Dennis is like "I'll take up up and show you around these really great sets." Ringo: "yeah okay." It's almost like the other three have no chill so he has to have only chill to balance it out.

They really are so blunt with each other when they don't like something. "I don't dig that." "Scrap that." Which is good. If only they could've been blunt when they did like things too though. And I guess they were sometimes. Like John telling Paul to keep that lyric in Hey Jude. But I don't think they were half as open with their positive feelings about each other's work as they were the other way around and that's so sad to me.

Why does George single Paul out about the sandwiches? It's cute. I love it. But what is it? Is he particularly worried about Paul and food because Paul's picky? Is it just their relationship that they take care of each other in these simple ways because they can't take care of each other emotionally?

Fucking hell why does Paul literally flirt with everyone all the time? "No separation in there." "Rain or snow will do me." "Yeah, you're pretty right, Michael."

Pretty sure John was looking at the lyrics of TOU off that sheet that said "Another Quarrymen Original" at the bottom. I wonder what he thought of that. I wonder if it was there to signal him, and if so what was it signalling? "Hey this is about you."??

"Two of us Henry Cooper." Referencing a boxer in a song about him and John. Why? Because they're fighting?

[1800naveen]

The cruel prince characters as random headcanons!

Jude:

I mean I can see it even though she pays visits to the mortal world at times.

Cardan:

In the mortal world, Jude showed Cardan Disney movies and that man has never been the same since. He's singing it to the top of his lungs in Elfhame.

Taryn:

Very accurate. Wonder what she's singing though. What genres would she listen to?

Vivi:

That has to be canon.

The Ghost:

Just look at any fanart of my boy, he's still in his emo phase. He's rocking it.

The Bomb:

She is immortal so she'll be fine. Very hyper for the rest of the day.

The Roach:

You would love being from New York😔

Oak:

He threw it up and Orianna gave him a scolding for that.

Orianna:

She resides in the mortal world so show her one of the weird chairs we got down here.

Madoc:

I'M SORRY, THIS MADE ME LAUGH.

May be making a part two with other characters!

[hannahssimblr]

“Um, hi, is that Jude Turner?” Comes a voice, trembling with anticipation. It’s a girl whose voice I do not know. 

“Uh huh.”

“Jude Turner, as in-” more giggles, “-Clóda Kearney’s boyfriend?”

“Not exactly, why?” I sit forward.

“Oh, you’re not her boyfriend, okay, well she said-” 

Someone else grabs the phone, “is she lying? Is she lying about that then? We just had to check.”

“Who is this?”

“She said that you’re together, we saw pictures of you but Clóda always makes stuff up, we wanted to find out for ourselves,” there is more girlish laughter, followed by kissy noises and I deduce that there must be at least three of them. Maybe more. The one on the line continues, “she told us that you had sex.”

“Oh! Jude!” Someone imitates in the background, “He’s so fine! And he’s just the best kisser too, he’s so gentle and he holds me in his arms for ages!” They all squeal with salacious excitement while I shrivel with embarrassment, “Well-”

“And she says that you climbed the balcony at her house and came in and stayed all night,” comes a new voice, “Is that where you did it? She said it was so romantic. And that you were going to go to America and buy her expensive gifts.”

“Oh, so much jewellery and perfume and clothes and makeup!” Someone sings.

“It’s all fake,” another adds, “She’s definitely faking it, like there’s no way.”

I listen to them and their stupid teenage girl antics for a while, their unintelligible babble like a group of twelve year olds chortling in shocked delight at the idea of someone having ungodly, sinful sex, and this feels like one of those moments where dating truly doesn't feel all that worth it.

“And if it’s true, then why?” says a voice, who I suddenly recognise as Rachel. “She’s such a bitch.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say eventually. “I don’t know about any of this.”

There is a cacophony of screams, “I knew it!” Someone yelps, and I hang up the phone and then switch it completely off before I have to hear any more. 

My hands are trembling as I chuck it away from me, across the table and onto the other couch where it wedges itself between the seat cushion and the back and then I try to pretend that nothing has happened. It’s fine, I’ll just… 

I’ll just try to finish the movie. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[mattnben-bennmatt]

Matt Damon's interview w/ The Advocate (18 January 2000)

[During promotion for The Talented Mr. Ripley, Matt Damon gives an interview to LGBT magazine The Advocate. He discusses his approach to playing Tom Ripley, same-sex relationships, and the scrutiny around his friendship with Ben Affleck. I first came across excerpts from this fascinating interview when browsing the Damon Affleck Slash Archive using the Internet Archive's WayBack Machine, but my gratitude goes to @kampedupkinks-blog for pointing me toward the full issue. Full transcription under the cut.]

Going to the Matt

Gay people, characters, and subjects are nothing new to Oscar winner Matt Damon. Here's his whole unexpected attitude on it all.

By Brendan Lemon

As the title character in the luxurious, homoerotic new movie The Talented Mr. Ripley, Matt Damon is obsessed with trying on a rich friend's clothing, looking for the right well-tailored suit to reflect his evolving view of himself. Ever since the Boston buddy picture Good Will Hunting won him a screen-writing Oscar and established him as a movie star two years ago, the actor has been redefining his own identity too.

Measuring this metamorphosis is a challenge, partly because the 29-year-old actor is still pondering just how to use the public voice that his fame has provided and partly because his celebrity's outward clues can be a little misleading. For example, he may have just bought a gargantuan—7,000 square feet—apartment in downtown Manhattan, but you sense he wants to make it a home rather than a showplace. And he may go out with another movie star (Winona Ryder), but, refreshingly, the two so rarely make the scene that they seem the furthest thing from a young Hollywood power couple.

The performer talked about both his life and gay-related issues raised by his new movie during a conversation one recent afternoon not far from his New York City home, a discussion in which he displayed his Harvard-caliber intelligence (he dropped out of that university to act, not because his grades weren't good), an attractive blend of sensitivity and seriousness, and the kind of genuine politeness that makes you want to meet, and thank, his mother.

While Damon upbringing has made him highly skeptical of celebrity, he is not about to turn the spotlight away from himself. "Matt is not the sort of actor who refuses to talk about his movies because he doesn't want to talk about his life," said Anthony Minghella, the director and screenwriter of The Talented Mr. Ripley. "In fact, one of the things that distinguishes him as both an actor and a person is that he doesn't duck the moment." Case in point: In the new movie's hottest scene, Damon's Tom Ripley looks lustfully at his friend Dickie Greenleaf (Jude Law) as he emerges from the bath. "Matt didn't ever try to wink at the audience while we were filming that, to distinguish himself from the character," Minghella said. To which Damon replies: "That would have been ridiculous. Ripley at that point was so bubbling over with desire."

Damon sees the homoeroticism of his latest character as an acting assignment, but his matter-of-fact approach to it has roots in his own life. "I grew up in a community house in Cambridge, Mass.," Damon said, "and a number of people who lived there were gay." Respect for difference wasn't the house's only core value; so was hard work a quality for which Damon is still known. "Matt won't always admit the rigor with which he approaches his roles," Minghella said, mentioning that for Ripley the actor learned to play the piano. "I sort of learned," Damon clarified, "just like I sort of learned to sing." The modesty is misplaced: In the movie the actor's wonderful rendition of "My Funny Valentine," aimed at an oblivious, sax-playing Greenleaf, stands as a clear, lonely lament recognizable to anyone—straight or gay—who's known the pain of unrequited love.

Don't expect Damon, however, to star any time soon in a revival of Babes in Arms, and certainly not with lifelong buddy Ben Affleck. The two remain call-each-other-at-all-hours close and make periodic noises about finishing that next screenplay, but any discussion about their friendship strikes Affleck, according to Damon, as "weak." Their bond, of course, still causes some people to regard them as more than pals. In this interview Damon addresses the subject head-on, while admitting that "the speculation isn't quite as much fun as it used to be."

But Damon, whose habit of answering virtually any question directly is reminiscent of Tom Hanks, with whom he had a memorable battle-jitters scene in Saving Private Ryan, mostly wanted to talk about sexuality because of his participation in The Talented Mr. Ripley. The movie which Minghella adapted from a 1955 novel by Patricia Highsmith (the first in a series), tells the story of the aforementioned Ripley and Greenleaf, two young Americans at play in late-1950s Italy. The secretive, hollowed-out Ripley is a consummate social strive. Unlike the wealthy, golden-haired Greenleaf, Ripley is to the manner—but not to the manor—born. In his quest for class he aspires to absorb everything about his friend: not just his clothing and his possessions but his pampered way of life.

But Greenleaf, involved with another young American, Marge Sherwood, treats Ripley disposably. Amused by Ripley's conversational talents and touched by his love of music, Greenleaf takes him along on high-spirited jaunts up and down the Italian peninsula, a series of sunlit, mostly seaside locations that the film caught sumptuously on location. But when Greenleaf tires of his visitor and attempts to toss him off, Ripley reacts tragically. "Maybe no one who sees the movie will agree with me," Damon said, "but as the one who played the character, I thought, This is so unfair. This person deserved better. He was so close to knowing happiness with another man."

In the hands of Highsmith, a lesbian expatriate who like many American writers—Vidal, Baldwin, Williams—came to Europe partly to escape the stifling sexual orthodoxy of postwar America, Ripley is a figure of great fascination but little empathy. Following him as he assumes Greenleaf's personality and attempts to elude his pursuers after the murder is a riveting yet slightly chilly exercise. "We wanted to make Ripley more human than Highsmith did," Damon said. To that end, Minghella pointed out, the character does not, as in the novel, plan to kill Greenleaf but, rather, lashes out at him when he confesses his love and is rejected. In another adjustment, Minghella transformed Peter Smith-Kingsley, one of the book's minor figures, into a gay man offering Ripley love and acceptance.

By fleshing out the book's homoerotic subtext, Minghella has made the story more resonant for a contemporary audience. He has also opened himself to the charge that he has made a movie about a "gay serial killer." "I think that that is a very reductive characterization," Damon said, "but I would urge people to see the movie and make up their own minds about its sex and psychology." To which one might add: Whether you like the film or not and whether or not you find it upsetting, Ripley stands as a sophisticated essay about an identity in formation—economically, psychologically, sexually.

For the movie's Forsterian world of prim Anglo-Saxons smitten with Italian sensuality, Damon's Ripley and Law's Greenleaf were joined by Gwyneth Paltrow as Sherwood and Cate Blanchett as a new character named Meredith Logue. All of them except Damon play roles in keeping with their images. After all, Damon has built his career playing mostly recognizably good guys. "Is my list of credits that heroic?" the actor asks a little disingenuously. To which one answers: Look at your resumé, Matt. Damon's gallery of Hollywood classic male archetypes includes the soldier (Courage Under Fire, Saving Private Ryan), the cowboy (Geronimo, the upcoming All the Pretty Horses), the athlete (School Ties, the upcoming golf fable The Legend of Bagger Vance), and the lawyer on the side of Southern right (The Rainmaker).

As part of his search for new suits, however, Damon has been willing to try some unexpected material. He is the frisky fallen angel Loki in the controversial movie Dogma, and he and Affleck are producing a TV version of The People's History of the United States, an iconoclast work by the scholar Howard Zinn. But it is as Ripley that Damon has most fully revealed in the unexpected.

Some people think it was brave of you, after just having won an Oscar for Good Will Hunting and becoming Hollywood's newly minted leading man, to play a role as upsetting and vulnerable as Tom Ripley.

I don't think playing Ripley was brave of me. I'm an actor who read a great script and who was extremely lucky to have been asked to do the part.

Ripley, however, is a very sad soul, and you appear to be anything but. What personal experiences did you draw on to convey that part of him?

Like everybody, I'm lonely to some extent. Like everybody, I live in fear of not being loved and not having love returned. And I think everybody has a Dickie Greenleaf in his life: someone who is extraordinarily charismatic but who can go away.

Ripley covets everything about Dickie's identity—his way of life, the issue of class, in both the sense of one's social stratum and of one's taste, is, along with sexuality, perhaps the driving issue of the movie. Did you relate to Ripley's cravings for class?

Only to a certain extent. When I was growing up in Cambridge, Mass., people took a certain amount of pride in not being Harvard people. We always thought we were cooler than they were. In terms of relating to Ripley's outsider quality, I have the standard stories that you probably have—of not being invited to the dance and picked for the team. The challenge of Ripley was making the longing to be chosen consistent in my character, despite the horrible things he's doing. Because if you don't stay in sympathy with Ripley—if you go into the theater thinking he's a "gay serial killer" and not a tormented, sensitive human being—then you may as well stay home. You're only going to have your preconceptions confirmed.

What were the key scenes for you to convey Ripley's sexuality?

The chess scene, where Dickie is naked and in the bathtub and Ripley is clothed and out of it. Also the scene where Ripley says he'd take a bullet for Dickie and the scene in the jazz club where, under the cover of music, I shout to him, "It's one big love affair." That's sort of my coming-out in the movie.

The bathtub scene is homoerotic yet slightly enigmatic. Ripley wants to get in the bath, but when he asks and Dickie says no, Ripley has to damp down his desires. Even though, moments later, when Dickie is toweling off, Ripley looks at his ass with a longing that suggests he's just seen the face of God.

When Ripley first got to Italy, if Dickie had taken off his clothes and said, "OK, strip down," Ripley would have just recoiled. Our idea was that he was a virgin. I say that because he's probably never been naked in front of somebody. Remember the first time you were naked in front of somebody? It's terrifying, but you get over it because, hopefully, you have somebody who says, "You're beautiful." But Ripley's never had that. He hasn't crossed the hurdle of deep self-loathing.

But when, at the movie's end, Peter Smith-Kingsley, a sweet, sensitive musician whom Ripley meets...

The ultimate man!

...asks Ripley to take his clothes off and become intimate, he's still struggling with his physical self-image. He is still deeply ashamed of himself, both because of his demonstrated capacity for violence and because of his inability to be intimate—with anyone, male or female. It is this abiding moral sense that makes him human rather than, to be reductive about it, a serial killer. He takes no pleasure in his transgressions.

Right, which is why the ending is so devastating. Ripley still believes that if he showed his authentic nature, he'd be cast aside.

Which is a version of what everyone fears and what some gay people, sadly, fear their whole lives: that as soon as people see our true, hidden natures they will reject us.

So rather than expose himself further to the man who truly loves him, Ripley "rejects" Peter in the most extreme way possible.

Ripley's relationship with Peter is potentially an adult, homosexual one, whereas the one with Dickie is more adolescent and amicable. The movie reminds us that there is a vulnerability involved in same-sex friendships that is just as acute as those in full-fledged gay love affairs.

Same-sex relationships with anyone when you are young entail extreme vulnerability. The first experience most of us have of devastating personal rejection is not with someone we want to date but with someone we want to befriend.

When you were that tender age, was your desire to be an actor looked down upon by your buddies?

No.

You were extremely lucky in that, you know.

I know. A number of people have come up to me and said that because of their interest in theater they were referred to as "drama fags." That wasn't the case in our school. I was supported by my parents and friends in the desire to be creative.

Who were some of the early gay influences on you?

I grew up in a community house, inhabited by my mother and brother and many other adults and children, and a number of people who lived there were gay. My theater teacher was not gay, but I probably had more gay than straight teachers in high school. So being gay, luckily, was not something that I was "introduced" to at some age. It was more that I was introduced to the prejudice against it. I had the reverse of a typical growing-up in that regard.

Your lifelong friendship with Ben Affleck had been endlessly scrutinized since your success with Good Will Hunting. Given how you grew up, was it odd to be tagged as lovers and have that speculation be viewed by some people as a negative thing?

The gay assumption seemed silly to me, a real waste of attention. But I understand that the idea of something hidden fascinates people.

At first, your friendship with Ben was a good marketing ploy. But now that your careers are established, has that strategy gotten tired?

Absolutely. You reach a point where it's your friendship and no one else's.

But you're smart enough to know that the media isn't likely to leave your relationships alone—whether it's you and Ben or you and Winona Ryder, your current girlfriend. You're also smart enough to know that the public has been burned enough times by the media dissembling about homosexuality to be more skeptical than they used to be about the subject. And thus a few people are going to read this interview and still want—still need—to believe that the couple is not you and Winona but you and Ben.

But that's because sex sells magazines and because people are now conditioned to believe that anyone they see on the cover is having sex with everyone in their lives. Given the shallow nature of the packaging and the salesmanship in our culture, it's no surprise that people are lulled into these assumptions.

The unvaryingly sexy packaging is a distraction from ever having to think about the real issues.

Of course.

To go back to you and Ben, would it be so terrible if you were a couple?

The question of whether Ben and I are gay is so awkward in a lot of ways. There is no real right way to answer it without offending somebody. It's offensive to just deny it fiercely, as if there would be anything wrong with it if we were a couple. That would be offensive to the people I grew up with. I don't want to be that person. At the same time, I can't say it's true because it's not. Ben once made light of this type of tabloid speculation by telling an interviewer something like, "I'm sure there are gay people who are in the closet in Hollywood, but also I'm sure that they didn't sleep with Henry's friend." [Laughs]

Yeah, it's interesting how the source for so many tabloid outings always seem to be some Henry guy's pal or some friend of somebody's hairdresser.

That's so true.

One of the strangest things about the media's attempt to disparage your relationship with Ben is that male friendship used to be considered a noble thing. It was not powerful men but powerful women who were divided through the use of the gay rumor. Now same-sex closeness of both genders is targeted.

I guess it's not enough for me to say that I love Ben so much that I'd take a bullet for him.

You also have to say—pardon my bluntness—that you'd take his dick up your ass.

Yeah. It's completely bizarre.

If you were, in fact, in a relationship with another man, would you be in the same position career-wise?

I would like to say that if I were gay, I'd be out. But I think that's not fair because I'm not gay, and I don't know personally what pressure is brought to bear on you if you are. My short answer, without a lot of reflection, is that if you were out, your career would suffer. Would Rock Hudson have had the career he had if he'd been out? No way.

But, of course, we'll never know until someone with your level of leading-man visibility comes out and until Hollywood allows the box office rather than its own internalized prejudices to decide if the public is ready for such a move. With a few test cases, maybe we could move away from this type of discussion. Saying that may be naive, though, given our culture's obsession with celebrities.

And with celebrity bedrooms.

It feels weird to think of the Ripley movie in light of this prurient culture of ours. Because it takes place at a time, the late 50's, when it was taboo for an American guy to confess any kind of affection. That type of unstated longing, of course, is what gives the film so much of its power.

If this were a contemporary movie, the relationships would probably be handled differently. All the people I talked to who are of Ripley's generation—who were young in the '50s—said that you didn't talk that much about your sexuality in any regard. Today, on the other hand, you meet someone, and 15 minutes later he's saying, "You know, my boyfriend and I have this problem with trust." If this were a movie set in 1999, for a tasteful young man like Ripley to admit to a wordly Princeton graduate like Dickie that he has a homosexual side would seem really tame. Especially in our age, when you go home and there, on Jerry Springer, is some guy with two penises.

But in some ways the culture remains alarmingly the same. Highsmith's novel, for example, is infused with homosexual panic. This is part of Ripley's fear of being found out in all aspects of his life—that he's a fake somebody instead of a real nobody. And the fear of thought gay remains a huge fear for some guys still today.

Sure. This makes me think of American Beauty with its theme of the fear of the person next door. Middle America knows that its next-door neighbors could, in fact, be gay. They can't pretend any longer that it's not possible. And that, unfortunately, is very upsetting to some of them. People should recognize that homosexuality just is. Personally, I think it's genetic. That's always been my theory because I have friends who are gay and who really don't want to be and who say they don't have lives that are conducive to it.

What do you mean, "not conducive to it"?

Because being gay makes their lives more difficult professionally.

I'm not going to take the time here to comment on that kind of self-concealment, even though I know from experience how necessary it can seem at a certain time in your life. Are some of these friends actors?

Not just actors. Though it's true that show business is a lot more closed-minded than it may appear. Which is ironic, considering that there are more gay people in the movie industry and in arts in general than in other walks of life.

I think that's a fair and accurate statement. Or at least one that won't frighten the horses.

[Laughs] Right.

Since, in a sense, we've been talking about maintaining appearances, let me raise the matter of appearances regarding the Ripley movie. Specifically clothing. Tom enjoys wearing Dickie's clothes, even though Dickie doesn't always enjoy the fact that Tom is borrowing them. This reflects, of course, how Tom is struggling to assume Dickie's identity in all forms, not just the sexual or psychological ones. The clothing interchange reminded me of one of the real pleasures of being a gay couple: wearing your partner's wardrobe.

But that's not necessarily a gay thing. My group of closest friends and I lived, until recently, in these loose communal situations—in New York, L.A., Boston. And there was a constant raid on somebody's closet. You'd see one of your roommates in a restaurant, and he'd say, "Hey, that's my shirt. You asshole! I just washed that shirt!"

What did the question of clothes mean to you in the making of Ripley?

It relates to body image. Ann Roth, the movie's costume designer, said to Jude Law, "These clothes hang better if you don't wear underwear." So Jude said, "Right, I won't wear underwear." And she looks at me, and I said, "Of course, Tom wears underwear. It would be too exposing of himself not to."

How were clothes key to the formation of your own personal identity?

I remember for my graduation from high school my older brother gave me his leather jacket, which was my favorite thing in the world. He gave it to me in June. I went into my room, put it on, and basically waited for fall. My brother was so cool, and because I was wearing his jacket, I was cool too.

That was a moment not so much of vanity as of validation.

Absolutely.

It's interesting how validation becomes vanity as you grow older. Speaking of which, at what point growing up did you start receiving validation for your looks?

When I got to Harvard. When I got there I thought I was James Dean, wearing my leather jacket. A friend of mine from England, who lived on my dorm floor, and I thought we were very cool. And we weren't afraid to say it to each other.

Some actors consider it a little unmanly to have to obsess so much about their appearance. Do you?

I worry about appearance less than I used to. I look at Brad Pitt. I will never, and could never, look like that. He is just incredible to look at. Period. If I were gay, he would be one of the posters on my wall. Ben and I both have more realistic ideas about what we look like. Not that we're insecure about it. But I know what drop-dead gorgeous looks like, and I know that I'm not it. I also know that I don't want to think, ever, about how I look when I'm in front of the camera. Because then I'm thinking about the wrong thing.

You know, however, that a certain amount of your stock as a movie actor has to do with your appearance.

But if they want handsome, they're not coming after me; they're going to Brad Pitt, Tom Cruise—one of those guys.

I wonder. I can think of a few producers who might think that you would fill the handsome slot just fine.

Well, thank you. Now I feel validated. [Laughs]

You've said that Ripley is a once-in-a-lifetime situation for you. Is that because you wouldn't play a character with Ripley's attributes—repressed rage, class envy, murderousness, homoeroticism, extraordinary sensitivity, aching beauty—ever again?

Anything as original as Ripley I'd love to do again. Unfortunately, people aren't willing to put up the money to make movies like this very often. They were with Anthony Manghella, in part, because he'd just won an Oscar for The English Patient.

Even though you signed on for the movie before Good Will Hunting made you a star, I don't think you should forget the role you and Gwyneth Paltrow played in getting the movie made.

I'm not sure about that. I just hope the movie gets received the way it should. Because, realistically, its box-office chances aren't clear-cut. It needs a strong critical reception to be successful. It's still amazing to me that the studio was so supportive of Anthony's vision. In the wake of The English Patient, he could have directed a lot of movies, but he chose to make this one. He's the one who's brave, not me.

[pixies-love-envy]

Too Sweet: Harlow

Character Intro

Name: Harlow Knight

Nickname: Harly

Pronouns: She/Her/Hers

Role in story: Comic relief sidekick

Bio/summary/description: Harlow is a college dropout who after three years is considering returning to take a few business classes. She hopes to one day move to New Orleans and open up a apothecary and crystal shop. Currently she is living with her best friend, Cricket St. James. She struggles daily with supporting both Cricket and her good friend, Jude Fox, through their recent break up. She’s very fond of Cricket’s new love interest, March Starling.

DOB: June 20, 2001 (Gemini)

Sexuality: Homosexual

Ethnicity: Irish American

MBTI: ESFP-A (Entertainer)

Occupation: Waitress at The Chipped Tea Cup Tavern and Inn

Appearance

Height: 5 feet 6 inches

Hair: Naturally red hair with subtle blonde streaks that fall in fluffy loose curls

Eye: Light blue

Build/physique: Curvy build

Notable features: Freckles all over her body and a nose ring on her left

Clothing style: Bohemian/hippie style

Extra

TRAGIC BACKSTORY

Quote: “It’ll be okay. I’ll snatch up the nicest, cleanest booth we’ve got. You know, the one in the corner, and all night we’re gonna laugh at that bitch Michelle because her big sasquatch ass is gonna have to sleep on the floor.”

Traits/quirks:

She’s flakey and unreliable.

She is deeply afraid of failure.

She does not believe she’s as smart as the people around her

She’s very spiritual.

She has a great love for animals and nature.

She’s a vegan for ethical reasons.

Fun facts/headcanons:

She’s allergic to drugs and alcohol

She never leaves the house without being perfectly dressed and accessorized in her little fashionista hippie outfits

She enjoys foraging for berries and mushrooms and stuff in a forest

She loves watching cheesy romance movies. She totally believes in true love and love at first sight and all that soulmate stuff. She doesn’t even realize the films are cheesy.

She perches in a high place whenever possible. She never sits normally somewhere, she’s always crouching on top of chairs or climbing trees or hanging out on top of roofs

Hobbies/skills: Geology, gender studies, singing, botany and herbology

Likes: Crystals, talking, being in nature, Fleetwood Mac, The Twilight Zone, karaoke, chick flicks, protesting

Dislikes: deadlines, driving, writing essays, moral philosophy, anything she considers too complex or too smart for her to handle

Too Sweet Masterlist

@yourpenpaldee @mundanemoongirl

IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED IN TOO SWEET CONTENT PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!!

[differenteagletragedy]

i was reading through your blog and omg musicals!!!! a theater kid, myself, i'd love if you'd write some headcanons about a broadway/musical star mc, if its not too close to your famous mc headcanons! also, i'd love to hear if you think the ol1 boys can sing and who would help mc practice (both lines and singing)! also who would sing along with mc while they're doing chores/housework/etc or if they'd just listen/hum/etc! you can just assume theyre poly with mc for this, if it makes it easier! :)

Listen. Listen. I love this so much. I am also a theatre kid (so much that I am forced to spell it with the "re" at the end) and I have many thoughts.

Also, Bobby from Company is Baxter after he reconnects with MC and friends, with an MC that ends up with Cove or Derek and this is just a fact. Evidence:

This is a video of single Baxter with his ten friends in five couples: Cove and MC, Derek and Tamarack, Terry and Miranda, Jude and Scott, and Qiu and OLNF MC.

ANYWAY.

-- Cove is such a fanboy. He's there to see your shows literally every time he can make it and will be disappointed if he can't come. He knows all the words to all the songs and a lot of the dialogue too. He is so proud.

-- Did you get to make a recording of your show? Try to get Cove to play something else in the car, I dare you.

-- Derek is also a big big fan, he is telling anyone who will listen about how he's your friend/boyfriend/husband. Jorge might have to tell him to chill a little bit but he's just so EXCITED.

-- He will make a point to pick you up after your evening shows. The crew knows him, so he just comes backstage after and will walk with you out the stage door. It's late and people are unpredictable, and he wants to keep you safe.

-- Baxter, surprise, also a big fan! If you started Broadway after the breakup in Step 3 then he may not figure it out, Broadway stars aren't as mainstream as movie or pop stars, for example. But he'll obviously find out when you're brought back together in Step 4 and he'll have some much research to do on you during those lost years!

-- He'll be streaming your recordings and just feeling so many things.

-- But maybe in Step 3 you've decided to pursue your theatrical dreams! A last summer at home before you move to New York, perhaps. Let Baxter take your headshots for you! He will be so good at it. He will also style you.

-- If this is the case, that you move after Step 3, I don't think Cove will move too. He could! But I can't picture him leaving the California coast. Long distance love. He and Cliff come in to see your big shows.

-- Cliff cries. Cove does too, he got it from his dad.

-- Maybe Derek will blow off a big game because it's his only chance to come see you. He feels bad about it, but he's not going to miss your big moment.

-- I haven't thought about this too much shut up

-- Boys at the Tonys! Baxter is going to KILL IT. I've talked about this with the general famous MC stuff lol, the awards show stuff, but he's going to dress to impress. So will Derek, this is very important and the boy who wore a polka dot bowtie at 13 isn't going to pull out any stops.

-- You're going to have to tell Cove to button all his buttons though, it's not the time for your cleavage baby

-- I think Baxter is the only one who could carry a tune, but he wouldn't try to get technically good. Cove is bearable with his singing. Derek really is not, but he has so much fun with it that no one would ever tell him to stop.

-- They'll all help you with your lines. Derek might actually learn lines instead of reading them from a script so he can help you practice while he's driving or something. And yeah, that's a lot, but that's just who he is.

-- If you're just having fun singing, in the car or doing chores or whatever, then they'll all sing with you. But if they catch you really going for it in the shower or something, they will all just stop and listen because oh my GOD

[ghostismybbygorl]

Alright more headcannons

Pt.1

Ale-ale-jandro

Actually hates the song alejandro by lady gaga. If rudy is mad at him he'll play the song in the car full blast to piss him off

He's 38

Hes got a BIG family. He has 7 siblings he's the oldest out if all if them

hes got a brother (36) with two daughters (6) (8)

A sister (32) with a son (10)

Twin brothers (25) one of them has a daughter (3)

A sister (20) who has a 1 year old girl

A brother (12)

A baby sister (7)

Hes roman catholic and goes to mass regularly with his family

His patron saint is St. Jude Thaddius

Him and soap will go to mass together

He's got a necklace of Guadalupe that his abuelita gave him before she passed. Every time he goes into battle he kisses the necklace and prays to his abuelita for protection

He has a tabby cat named diablo that he rescued off the streets. The cat's a total asshole to everyone but rudy.

Him and rudy are married but no one knows except for his family

This man can salsa dance like nobody's business. Dont get him near tequila or youll be learning how to dance the tango, salsa, square dance everything from him

He's a happy flirty drunk

When he's mad he'll forget how to say english words so he'll just stand there snapping his fingers trying to explain what he's trying to say but getting even more pissed because he can't remember the word.

Accidentally got high off of heroine one time. He was on a mission and somehow a bag of heroine opened up in his face causing him to inhale some. He said it was the best high he's experienced but swore to himself to never do any type of drugs after that experience in fear of getting addicted

Casually pops his neck and it'll crack LOUD

Takes a nap at 3:00 sharp. If he doesn't take his nap he will be bitchy for the rest of the day

He listens to latin r&b when he's relaxing and bad bunny when him and Rudy are alone together.

Being the oldest of the family hes a very nurturing person. When you're sick hes by your side with sopa de fideo, vics cream, and some medicinal tea

This man can and WILL cook. He used to cook with his mom and abuelita when he was younger

He loves to make tamales it reminds him of home

His family goes all out for Christmas everyone has stockings, they all get hella gifts, they sing, dance, bring over homemade food. They all will go to midnight mass and then open presents afterwords when they get home

He's always the best gift giver

His house looks like this and he still lives with his whole family (click the numbers i also have a link to the Pinterest boards if u wanna see more)

1, 2, 3

He has those candies that Abuelas give out

Rudy rudy

Hes actually savage af. He'll absolutely roast the shit out of you and hell say it in the most casual tone

Loves bad bunny

Hes 30

Hes a only child

He has the most obscene slippers

He drinks coffee religiously. He's a regular at starbucks. His favorite starbucks drink is the java chip Frappuccino with two extra shots of espresso and coconut milk

He loves del rosa cookies snd can open them without breaking them. He gets really upset if he does. It happened one time before and he was close to tears

 he loves diablo like its his own child.

He was the one to propose to Alejandro. They where sitting on a couch watching tv when he just pops the question "you want to get married?"

He's scared of anything supernatural. Dont even get him started on horror movies he will legit start praying the hail mary

He gives great massages

He's hella lactose intolerant like reenacting world war 3 in the bathroom intolerant.

since he doesn't have a big family rudy and his family will celebrate Christmas together with Alejandros family.

He absolutely loves the cheesy telenovas

He has a iguana named pakko.

He lives in Alejandro house with his family

He gets really out going when hes drunk he'll start singing and dancing

Price

Religiously plays wordle

He'll bring his bearded dragon into work ever so often. It always creeped ghost out for a while but eventually grew used to it.

He like to put little costumes on his bearded dragon

HE HAS A FAMILY PHOTO OF HIM, HIS BOYFRIEND, DOG AND DRAGON IN MATCHING CHRISTMAS SWEATERS. (He paid ghost big money to make the sweaters)

He doesn't shave his beard at all during november and his beard will get hella long. He usually does this because he dresses up as santa for christmas and goes to children shelter to give children christmas gifts.

He's like hella good with kids, babies especially. If he sees a baby crying he can instantly make it stop crying its like magic dad vibes.

When hes drunk he'll reminisce about the past and tell the same stories over and over. He also gets really nostalgic with laswell

He's the one to throw the christmas parties he takes it hella serious its a requirement that everyone wears a christmas sweater

His house looks like this

1, 2, 3

He has those LOUD sneezes

He takes dad naps. He'll just say he's resting his eyes and then just knock the fuck out.

He saws logs when he naps

Has a squatty potty

Ghost

Knows how to sew and can pretty much make anything. Every year he makes little plushies for everyone for Christmas

He keeps it a top secret but he has a 7 year old daughter that he adopted. Her name is Samantha

When the team first met her they nicknamed her ghoul and she loved it

She has her own little ghost mask and she wears it around the base when ghost brings her to work

Price absolutely adores her and will often volunteer to babysit if ghost is busy with a mission same with laswell

He plays animal crossing in his free time. He says its relaxing or that hes "taking care of the kids island"

His house looks like this

1, 2 3 bonus his daughters room 4

You know the scene in parks and rec when ron swanson was drunk off of snake juice...yeah thats him drunk

He'll face time his daughter when he's away every day

He has chronic insomnia so he'll stay up days on end until hes tired and then he'll pass out on his bed and sleep for a whole day.

He lets his daughter pain his nails. He came in one day with hot pink nails 💅🏼

He has a tattoo of one of his daughters drawing and a tattoo on his ribs of his daughter's handwriting saying "i love you daddy"

His nipples are pierced

He's giving his daughter a puppy for Christmas

Laswell

Her and her wife have a daughter who's 10

She made price her maid (or i guess man of honor?). He was so thrilled and of course sobbed when he saw her walk down the isle

She met price at a football game in london

Shes 40

When shes talking to her wife she'll refer the task as her kids. "Hey do you want to come to dinner with the kids?"

She wears scarfs all the time

Laswells daughter and Samantha are best friends and they will often schedule play dates and sleep over

She gives out the most heartfelt presents. If you talk about something you want 5 months ago she'll buy it and give it to you on Christmas.

Her house

1, 2 3

When theres a party with the boys she, her wife, price, and his boyfriend will watch all the stupid shit they would do and laugh at them

She has a Pomeranian named Annabelle

She does yoga with her wife

She gets sleepy when she's drunk and will probably fall asleep on prices sholder

She loves the smell of rosemary

Soap

He has a apartment which looks like this

1 2 3

He has a girl roommate who keeps the apartment tidy and clean while he's gone. (he very much appreciates her and always cooks and does the dishes for her). She likes to roast the shit out if him when he's home.

He has chronic pain in his right knee which causes him to wear a knee brace occasionally

Hes smokes the elf bars vapes. His favorite flavor is the rainbow candy

He got a tattoo of a heart on his butt cheek. He has absolutely no clue when he got it

He loves tequila drinks

Hes a cocktail type of bitch. The boys will be sipping on bourbon and soap will be over here with like a lemon drop martini or some fancy cocktail.

He wears jockstrap underwear. He says it makes his ass look great but he also wears those funny briefs like the ones that has emojis or cereal theme

When he's nervous he'll start rubbing his stubble

As a April fools prank he grew his beard out and cut it like price's beard. He then proceeded to walk around with his hat and a cigar and act like him for the whole day. He later convinced everyone to do it the next year. Ghost somehow sewed a beard to his mask for this.

He snorts when he laughs hard

He will do any dare someone tells him to do. Gaz jokingly dared soap to snort smarties thinking that he wouldnt do it....he did it......he still smells smarties from time to time.

Ghost and him have matching tattoos if skeletons dancing

He likes to listen to indie alternative music his favorite artist is steve lacy

When soaps drunk he gets all lovey dovey to everyone and he'll start singing sea shanties and pop songs. 

He has a snack stash. Everyone will be debriefing and he'll just randomly pull out a snack and start eating

Hes always hungry and eating. His favorite snacks are gummies, oreos, and Takis 

He will eat ANYTHING i mean ANYTHING. He's tried the weirdest foods out of curiosity and from dares.

Absolutely love's Christmas he wears ungly Christmas sweaters the whole month of december. He has a whole closet full of them

He loves candy canes and will go through multiple boxes of them throughout the month

Hes a nail biter

He's the god father of ghosts daughter.

He has a shower beer after work (a/n: its when you drink beer while you shower very life changing highly suggest it)

Hes really good at soccer

He sleeps in the most random spots and funniest positions. Ghost has a whole folder of all the weird places soap has slept. Everyone will fuck with him in his sleep and do random shit to him here's a few photos of what he would sleep like and what they do

Gazzy

He gets chronic migraines

He is a very VERY emotional drunk. He'll be happy and dancing and next he'll be crying over his goldfish that died 7 years ago

When he's mad his atlanta accent will kick in.

He's very sensitive to certain textures he loves sof blankets and has them littered around his apartment

He's a Very picky eater like the pallate of a 5 year old

He LOVES auntie annes mac and cheese and will eat that on the daily (its his comfort food)

He's allergic to bee's

Loves foo fighters

He can play cello

He's has ocd and will freak out if things dont go his way. Price usually has ti calm him down if he has a freak attack

His favorite anime is darling in the franxxs

He has a whole squishmellow collection on his bed

He really likes to paint him and soap will often chill out in the common room and just do artsy shit together

He loves sending reaction memes

He taught price the woah and now throw the woah at him

If he sees soap the both will look at each other and then do the biggest most dramatic way of the whip

He makes secret handshakes with everyone. Hes still trying to get ghost to do one

He arranges the secret santa and he always gives the most ridiculous presents

He loves to do yoga with laswell and her wife

His apartment looks like this

1 2 3 4

[slaterherms]

             ˗ˏˋ 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

                                              𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒔 ! ´ˎ˗

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑!

hello !! i really enjoyed making these and sharing a little slice of my muses with you all, and i’m happy people seemed to find them useful!! so while i’m at work doing nothing.... here is more AESTHETICS BASED OFF MY MUSES. 

cw: mentions of drugs and injuries 

LINCOLN ‘LINK’ CRAWFORD ashtray with finished cigarettes and empty bottles of alcohol on the windowsill, red LED lights, a collection of CDs, piles of books all over the place, printed out posters of horror movies, a laugh in the face of authority, dark greens and black filling your wardrobe, ripped jeans, thrifting for home decor and clothes, the smell of cigarettes stuck to clothes, an old camera slinging around your neck, lies that sound genuine, found family. 

FLORENCE JACOBS over-sized clothing, constantly saying sorry while repeating the same mistakes, chipped nail polish, showing up late to everything with a large coffee, empty bottles of alcohol all over the windowsill, ripped jeans, a collection of lighters, bags under your eyes, a worn out beanie, still using an ipod for music. 

ROMAN BIRCH dark academia, papers all over their space, a pencil behind their ear, bedhead, lingering smell of coffee, research books and journals, greek tragedies, a worn-down leather briefcase, rolled up sleeves, dark color schemes. 

ASHRAF AL HAFEZ the echo of an empty theatre, a sense of the dramatics in everything, an urge/starvation for the unconventional, thoughts scattered on pieces of paper, a half empty bottle of wine, a small yet cozy apartment, cat hairs all over your sweaters, roaming empty streets late at night, singing to yourself, musicals and theatre. 

JUDE JACOBS a bomb of colours in your wardrobe, worn down hands from drumsticks, loud noise, loud laughter, a smile so wide and contagious, unruly curls / hair, the lingering smell of marijuana, chipped nail polish, messy make-up, glitter on the eyes, the sound of a roaring crowd, 

RIO SMITH colourful bandanas, the lingering smell of fruity bodyspray, glazed lip gloss, eye gems / decor, bright colours, a compassionate love for animals, an urgency to help and assist others, mis-matched nails,  flowing skirts and dresses, festivals and bright lights, music playing 24/7, thrifted furniture, a mini garden, a softness in their eyes. 

NARI PAK black clothing, big combat boots, baggy pants, early 2000′s styled pixie cuts, the sound of a bass, blistered fingers from the bass, the lingering smell of cigarettes, a resting bitch face, sapphic goth, a face full of piercings, heavy eyeliner, posters hung haphazardly, big headphones on 24/7, silver jewelry. 

A FEW BONUS AESTHETICS I JUST LOVE light academia, ribboned hair, always smelling like lavender, a sarcastic tone, sleeves under big t-shirts, fishnets, brightly coloured hair, soft-spoken tones, worn-down sneakers, stacked jewelry, bright eye-shadow, stick-n-poke tattoos, bruises from stunts, leather jackets, driving too fast on an empty street, the peak of a high. 

[lostcryptids]

Every time Hey Jude comes on the radio i no joke start singing the lyrics to the "Hey Dude" version from the Yesterday movie in my head. Hey dude.

[pennielane]

my dad loves hey jude, i never cared much for it. then, about 10 years ago when i had just graduated high school, i went to the cavern club in liverpool where one of those neat but slightly awkward-to-watch cover bands played beatles songs all night. i had my first english cider there and some rather old dudes danced some old school rock n roll with me. it was a blast. but then the band, alas, said they were going to play the last song for the night now: hey jude. i was very confused by that choice bc to me that song was always. idk. mellow. bit bland. an overplayed dad song. and then *i got it*. the w h o l e damn club began to sing along, linking arms and holding hands at the nananana bit, crescendoing into this ridiculously cheesy movie-like sense of community. we were ALL strangers and still, i promise u, for this 7 minute song we kinda loved each other a little.

(this has very little to do with any anon or the poll. i just wanted to share my secret on how i end all my parties, even now, 10 years later, and how it never fails to send guests home with a big goofy smile on their lips.)

ok but for real I love this story thank you so much for sharing 🥹🥹🥹