#which fits with a like. thing of Joker being a mindset. he's almost a different person

[orcelito]

sometimes in chapter 7 you make a narrative decision for yourself that 34 chapters later you are still upholding for the sake of internal consistency, even as you kinda hate doing it lmao

[theoriginalladya]

Types of kisses #4 for Caleb x Kaidan.

I know, I know...this behavior is totally unexpected from me..

from this prompt list

On AO3 here

HAH!  But thanks to you, I’m getting them sorted out.  Here you go!  Hope you like it!!!

~~~

Bunking together in on the Normandy is far different than the apartment and takes some getting used to.  For starters, it’s a tighter fit, even in a cabin as grand as this, and it doesn’t come without awkward moments, occasional flushed cheeks, and mumbled apologies.  Mix in the fact the relationship is still relatively new and uncertain – so new and uncertain, in fact, Caleb still has trouble wrapping his head around why Kaidan stays when he, Caleb, is still trying to sort things out – and it might as well be a comedy of errors.  But, after three nights of stilted conversations and accidental toe stepping with the occasional elbow in the ribs in the middle of the night, it takes a completely different turn.

Thanks to EDI’s assistance, they have a destination, sort of, and the Normandy is ready to head out to find Dr. Garneau. The flight will take them the better part of a day as well as five relay jumps, then the search really begins.  Still, it doesn’t come without problems.  A last minute repair, additional supplies to onload, and a mix-up with the paperwork the likes of which Shepard has never seen before and decides to let Joker deal with.  Even then, after all of that, their departure from the Citadel is unexpectedly delayed again.  It takes an additional six hours to sort out, and Caleb eventually pulls his Spectre rank on the poor dockmaster when his level of irritation hits boiling point -  what else can he do?  the mission is vital to the war effort – and they finally get underway.  On his way back through the CIC, he sets the galaxy map for the Caleston Rift.  The fact that Traynnor says nothing, doesn’t even look at him, hints that he has his don’t fuck with me mask on, so he continues on and heads up to his cabin to relax.  There are certain aspects of this mission that generate stress for reasons he can’t quite explain, and he’s tired; and that doesn’t include his current rooming situation.

(what’re the odds - it got long! lol)

When he enters the cabin, he finds Kaidan seated at the desk on the lower level.  Soft, calming music plays over the sound system, and Caleb’s mindset immediately shifts fearing that Kaidan is suffering one of his migraines.  He cushions his steps as much as he can, but it’s impossible to keep silent.  When Kaidan turns to face him, however, there is a smile on his face; tired, but pleased to see him.  That’s something.  “Finally on our way?”

Caleb nods.  “Couldn’t you hear Joker telling-off Citadel control all the way up here?”  He doesn’t openly admit he gave the helmsman permission to do so.

Kaidan’s laugh is nearly as endearing as the grin he gives Caleb.  It’s new, nothing Caleb’s ever seen before … but it’s  more and more common, ever since that night.  It is so endearing his belly flutters wildly in response, each and every time.  “It’s kind of hard not to hear him, actually.”

It’s also impossible not to laugh along with him.

He shrugs out of his N7 jacket and tosses it over the back of the chair near the bed for now and turns his attention to stretching.  First, he rolls his shoulders, arms over his head, then he bends at the waist to loosen his lower back.  When he stands straight again, Kaidan is watching him.  Something about the look stirs up the inner impish side inside Caleb, one that hasn’t existed in … well, certainly not since his return to this life, and possibly further back than that.  With a smirk pulling at his lips, his voice drops an octave.  “See something you like, major?”

Kaidan seems startled for a minute, but the sheepish grin that follows is worth it.  “Maybe.”  There’s a hint of his voice dropping too, and Caleb’s smirk grows.  

It takes a few minutes for them to ready for bed, but soon they’re beneath the covers and settling in for the night. Caleb has a datapad in hand, last minute updates on the progress of the Crucible and additional requests from Hackett, but Kaidan lays down as if headed to sleep.  Thirty minutes pass before Caleb sets the pad aside and turns off his light … then realizes Kaidan hasn’t turned off his.  He’s asleep, chest rising and falling evenly, and Caleb is reluctant to wake him.  Instead, he pushes himself up just enough so he can reach over toward the light…

Somehow, he turns it off and the room darkens. Not completely dark, that’s impossible with the fish tank and the window overhead, but enough that they can get some sleep.  Carefully, Caleb backtracks to his side of the bed, but when he’s almost clear and free, his left arm buckles under him and he falls.  It’s embarrassing, really, and there isn’t any pain, but as he drops suddenly and he lands on Kaidan’s right shoulder, his lips brush across Kaidan’s accidentally.  

He freezes, waiting to see if Kaidan wakes. The major shifts in his sleep, rolls slightly toward the inside of the bed.  Caleb holds his breath … and watches a slow, lazy smile curve across his lips.  “Once more with feeling?” he murmurs in a voice rough with sleep.

The words take a moment to register, but Caleb laughs as he lowers himself to kiss him again, this time with purpose.  This time, he takes it slow and easy, warm and tender … at least until Kaidan ups the ante by sliding a hand around Caleb’s head, holding him close until Caleb has to break away to catch a breath.  He stares down into Kaidan’s eyes, sees a twinkle of mischief flicker there, even in the darkness, and realizes that this was planned.  It’s one of those moments that he’s discovered he rather enjoys; the unexpected and subtle joy that comes from being together.  With a laugh, Caleb leans in for one last quick hit and run, all desire and lust this time, then flops back onto his side of the bed.  He falls asleep within moments, though he doesn’t miss the echoes of Kaidan’s laughter or the way the biotic slides his arm around Caleb’s waist and snuggles close.

[seasaltmemories]

Persona 5 Royal Review/Analysis

So I didn’t have a ps4 when the original persona 5 came out, so royal was my first experience with the game, as a result, I will be talking about spoilers for both the original content and Royal bc a lot of the additions seem mixed in aside from just the third semester stuff

let’s get the summary

Prepare for an all-new RPG experience in Persona 5 Royal based in the universe of the award-winning series, Persona! Don the mask of Joker and join the Phantom Thieves of Hearts. Break free from the chains of modern society and stage grand heists to infiltrate the minds of the corrupt and make them change their ways! Persona 5 Royal is packed with new characters, confidants, story depth, new locations to explore, and a new grappling hook mechanic for stealthy access to new areas. 

So one of the things that I picked up really early on into my playthrough was that Persona 5 feels like a very adolescent piece of media, like yeah it is about highschoolers, but more than just its cast and setting, it seemed really fixated on capturing and adolescent mindset, there is this fresh awareness to the injustices of the world and a burning desire to fix it without much understanding of how to even began to tackle those problems, and the fact it stuck so hard to to that worldview made me a lot more forgiving of its flaws then I might have otherwise been, not that there isn’t stuff to critique about the way it tackles controversial issues, but at the same time i just had this mindset of, “well of course they aren’t going to get everything right, what can you expect from teens?”

Anyone who knows me knows I am a pretentious blow-hard, but I think P5 is a perfect example of just how important style is to anything.  So much of the pure glee and joy I got when I booted up the game came from the fun presentation and commitment to the phantom thief aesthetic, I have a lot of thoughts on gameplay that seem to be contradictory to the general consensus but to keep things brief, all the “sneaking’ around a palace, grappling from places, ambushing enemies, and performing all out attacks just all gave this sense of being cool and stylish that was great, even if the writing stronger, without those fun flourishes I don’t think I would have enjoyed my experience as much

I also think the more than any other game, persona 5 does a great job of making me thinking “just one more thing” you got a lot of confidants to fill and stats to raise to fill them so there is always something to do, at most during the story sections things sometimes dragged, but i was eager to finish them to get back to finishing my goals, for as long as the game was, this made it feel so much more manageable

Unpacking an entire 110 hour playthrough is kinda an overwhelming task, so instead I’m going to talk about my four favorite characters and hopefully that will cover some good amount of material

1) Goro Akechi- one of the first things I knew about this game was what a controversial character this bastard was and it turns out I fell on the side that loves him bc I think I have a thing for traitor characters, I have to say though for most of the game I wasn’t sure how I felt about him, I knew his true role going in, so it was hard to get attached to Detective Prince Akechi as most of his interactions with Joker felt like an act, however his Rank 8 confidant link, when he not only pulls out a gun on you and challenges you to an one on one fight but also freaking throws a glove to challenge you in a duel I was like “oh so you’re a little bitch boy then!” and never turned back

To me part of what makes him so compelling is just how stubbornly he is set on his path straight to Hell, a lot of ppl were moved by his tragic backstory but honestly it does little for me, I think it is important to consider, but you have to remember he approached Shido about his powers first and basically volunteered to be his personal assassin, still it is hard to ignore that sense of lost potential, in a way I can see how getting to pretend to be a part of a safe and welcoming team environment almost made things worst because he just kept feeling like, “why wasn’t I allowed to have this earlier” and just too tied to his current path of self-destruction to waver from it, like even the fact the Phantom Thieves and he had the same goals regarding Shido in the end, he couldn’t side with bc that would mean acknowledging all the murder he did was for nothing, so they just continued to be another target on his list, made all the more dangerous bc of the affection he held for them

That said I don’t think I would have liked him so much without Royal’s updates, I mentioned Rank 8 being a key moment for me but aside from that, the fight with him in Shido palace had so much going on, it kinda dulled the weight of any one of the numerous revelations, 3rd semester kinda brought in the perfect amount and balance of the different sides of Akechi, the minute he appeared I swear me and my brother cheered in joy, obvious spoilers for the rest of it

I had seen 3rd semester Akechi called “feral” and while he is still as horny for murder as ever, i don’t really think that fits, there is still a sense of restraint to his actions, yet he doesn’t mask his true intentions and feelings so much, what I like is that his rudeness and outbursts come off as very deliberate and planned, as if he enjoys exposing the contrast between his “pleasant” reputation and his true bitterness, and with the reveal that oops he is supposed to be dead, you still have that determined “don’t be a fucking pussy, just pull the trigger,” attitude, I really like the dynamic that forms between a Joker that just wants the best for him and an Akechi that just emphatically refuses to be saved in anyway, he is an easy character to woobify but I love how canon just at every turn doesn’t let you ever see his true vulnerability even if we all know it exists down there, also just something about hearing him curse is always so much fun and delightful

TLDR: I have a lot of feelings about this edgy bastard and may or may not already have a playlist for him

2) Makoto Niijima- another character I had an interesting relationship with, while from the start she seemed like my type, the overwhelming love for her kinda made my hipster side apprehensive, however predictably I was won over and I did romance her in the end (what can I saw my Joker is into brunettes)

Part of what makes her stick out so much to me, is how the game felt much less afraid to show her unlikable in comparison to other characters, i usually don’t complain or really notice this but more than any other game series I’ve played, there is definitely a lot of self-insert fantasy elements involved, ppl rip the newer FE games apart for that, but I never really saw it as the terrible as the cast had dozens of life changing interactions with other characters, the fact most of the interaction we see are through Joker’s eyes, and the fact that he is the catalyst to changing several adults’ lives made this element a lot more noticeable

But not only does Makoto take an antagonistic role at first, but they let her be so smug and annoying that I probably hated her with the same passion as the characters themselves, yet even when she comes over to or sides, her flaws are still pretty open, like when trying to help out Futuba, she definitely had that air of, “neurotypical trying too hard to make you normal” that was understandable but still annoying, and I appreciate it bc it made the contrast between her good points all the sharper

I kinda wanted to roll my eyes at first at her archetype as an honors student, bc yeah i was a nerdy student who didn’t know how to connect with my peers and just kinda subconsciously sucked up to adults bc I didn’t know what else to do, but in comparison to the teeming tragic backstories involved, you can see a stark difference in scale, yet Makoto is just carrying all this familiar teenage girl anger that reminds me a lot of Serena from Arc V, and getting to see her embrace it is very cathartic, I also really enjoyed her confidant which was surprising after seeing everyone tear into it so much, I feel like a lot of ppl’s confidant’s centered around other ppl and it didn’t just start off with the Eiko stuff, you see her Makoto want to change from the sheltered snobbish life she has kinda trapped herself in and rediscover her dream of being a police commissioner, I also found it fitting for her to also kinda figure that out through her own little investigation and to see that exploration of justice explored through her acting with a third party

The fact she is related to Sae also gives her interesting relationships we get to see from a different POV, and a greater investment in arcs outside her own, it just naturally gives her the feeling of being more well-rounded to have it spread out, and while her romance stuff did have the same sort of fantasy elements (that I greatly self-indulged in) overall I never felt like Joker was “saving” her in some way but growing and exploring along sides her

Overall, a great character and while i think best girl debates are dumb, I will not stand for hearing her described as worst girl

3) Ann Takamaki- honestly before I got this game I expected her to be the “main girl” with a lot of popularity and focus so seeing how little love she gets was heartbreaking for me, bc she is part of what made the early phantom thieves so enjoyable

I’ve heard the discussions about the issues around her sexualization and I think things on that access come out to be a wash, the developers kinda brush near some interesting ideas about the struggles women face with sex and attraction but don’t really know what to do with that, and so I think trying to trace and overall arch one way or another about her and her body issues is kinda a lesson in futility

in the end though what made her click for me is just how much fun her personality is, like I feel like in other stories her cheerfulness might come off as generic, but the fact that she is introduced so depressed and sullen makes her attitude shift come off as refreshing, like we know she can be serious, but the fact she isn’t being repeatedly sexually harassed by her teacher gives her like plenty of reason to goof off and enjoy herself

Again despite all the criticism I really enjoyed her confidants, the Mika stuff was honestly barely a blip in the thing and most of it alternated between her shooting the breeze and just having fun and still dealing with that lingering guilt and issues surrounding Shiho and just not having been able to save a close friend when she really needed her, I think the contrast is very much needed, especially to keep things from feeling like wallowing, which i felt was a problem with some other confidants

In the end though the main reason i didn’t romance her was bc as much as I liked her as a character, I didn’t want her to be with Joker specifically, i wanted to support her and see her finally confess her feelings to Shiho and the two of them go ride off into the sunset lol, still there’s a reason I reached rank 10 with her first

4) Takuto Maruki- lol so in this section I’m going to basically go into all my 3rd semester thoughts, again the first leg of his confidant was kinda dull, but I was prioritizing him bc of the deadline, once we got into his personal past that is where I got interested

On one hand part of the charm was just getting to see a more adult story, while there are other adult confidants I found the grad school and like academic stuff relatable, plus like the little moment with the steamed glasses was very funny, he’s just a down to earth guy and his kindness is genuine

However when he stepped up as the antagonist in the third semester, that’s when he got interesting, I found the conflict itself of a dream world to be kinda simple, aside from the fact obviously we need to oppose this for a plot to happen, Persona 5 is all about this humanist approach to personal growth and change, most of what I found fascinating about Maruki was the kinda self-martyring narcissism to his approach, like aside from treat the phantom thieves with kid gloves at time and just doing his best to avoid being a bad guy, there is this simmering resentment he masks and tries to replace with his desire to basically save the world, rather than deal with his own drama and baggage he tries to invest his energy into solving other problems

And you can see some of the parallels between him and the phantom thieves that points out some of hypocrisy of themselves, calculating the exact risks and harms of altering ppl through the Metaverse is hard to do due to a variety of factors, personally I don’t even have other Persona games to look to, but in general while it is for the greater good, the phantom thieves basically impose their will onto ppl who didn’t consent to that change, and in the end they decide to oppose Maruki purely based on their desires to not live in it, the game doesn’t do much with it, but I found the contrast more interesting than the Holy Grail one, plus his boss battle was more fun bc you actually got to use the main mechanic of the game, exploiting weaknesses and baton passing

But yeah all this comes to a head at the latter half of the boss fight where he just is so desperate and refuses to lose, it is like abundantly clear that this dream world is much more for himself than it is for anyone else, it is a desire to turn all his trauma into something more meaningful than just pain, and nothing shows that more clearly than the fact he fistfights a high schooler even after he has basically lost and tries to let himself die rather than face the consequences of his lost.  All in all I think he was the my favorite antagonist and palace holder

Some last thoughts I couldn’t fit elsewhere: Casino was my favorite palace, while weak story-wise, Okumura was far from my least favorite palace gameplay-wise and his boss fight as frustrating as it was might be my favorite for engaging with the player, if anything my least favorite palace was Futaba’s, my favorite showtimes are probably Morgana/Ann, Makoto/Ryuji, and Joker/Kasumi, Caroline and Justine are a delight and I really miss them, Tycoon is addicting and distracted me from being able to beat the game for a while

I got more hot takes I might elaborate on in length in the future, but in conclusion this is another rec where I can see and understand ppl being disappointed in some of the writing and its quality but at the same time i think there is still value ppl are too quick to dismiss and definitely multiple reasons to still enjoy it, I think this is going to stick with me for longer than I first thought it wound

[noconcernofyours]

Pinning Down My Kind of Movie

Warning: Wanky, self-indulgent ramblings about Hollywood auteurs to follow

A couple of days ago, I sat down with my housemate to watch Miami Vice (2006) directed by Michael Mann (Heat, Collateral) and starring Colin Farrell and Jamie Foxx. Since we moved into our place, my housemate has gradually been exposed to my taste in movies, and the other day, sat in front of a strung-out Colin Farrell ordering mojitos to ‘Numb/Encore’ during an undercover sting, he finally confronted me with a crisis-inducing statement: “You know, I can’t figure out what your kind of movie is.”

If I am to be totally honest, it doesn’t take much to send me into an existential tailspin, but this observation got me thinking enough to want to sit down and write about it, so here we are. My name’s Daniel and I love movies! When I was a teenager, I was certain I wanted to be a film critic, so I started writing in earnest. The problem was I wasn’t that well rounded as a viewer. I confined myself to the world of comic book movies and Disney animation. I turned my nose up at pretty much everything else before realising that I didn’t actually know much or have much to offer about film. Instead, I turned to music criticism because that’s where my knowledge base is.

That being said, I still loved movies, and as the years have gone on, I have been rapidly expanding my film knowledge and broadened my horizons extensively. I got called a “film buff” for the first time recently, which really shocked me. I still don’t feel well-watched enough, or knowledgeable enough to fit a moniker like that. Maybe it’s imposter syndrome, but I really feel like I have a way to go yet.

My Letterboxd bio includes the phrase “admirer of film nerds”, and I think that admiration informs the entire way I look at the world of film. I read a lot of reviews and listen to a lot of podcasts by smart, unpretentious film obsessives like David Sims, Griffin Newman, Katey Rich, Karen Han and Bilge Ebiri, but that same admiration also informs the kind of films I enjoy the most. In confronting the statement from my housemate, I realised that while there are some genres I gravitate to more than others, my taste in movies is largely defined by the extent to which I can pick up on a single authorial voice driving the film. A director, writer, actor, composer or cinematographer who has a real, obsessive love for their craft whose influence and personality can be felt in every layer of a film’s construction. Franchises are a different beast, but it’s usually the entries in a franchise that feel like passion projects for individual filmmakers that I love the most, which is why Iron Man 3 is by far my favourite Marvel movie.

Over the last few months I’ve started building a fairly extensive Blu-Ray collection. I love physical media because I like to have a tangible representation of the art I love, but it also allows me to physically organise my thoughts about film rather than moving things around on a spreadsheet or in my head. It has also had an effect on how I watch films. Spending money on a film makes me feel more obligated to watch it through to the end in one sitting, to not be on my phone at the same time and to pay closer attention. It’s also made my approach to picking the films I watch more considered. I’ve been hunting down the films I haven’t seen by directors I love, fuelled by newfound completionism, and I’ve been subconsciously prioritising this kind of auteur-driven mindset in a way that has revealed, over time, who my favourite filmmakers are.

So, with that in mind, let’s transform this meandering, self-indulgent think piece into a meandering, self-indulgent listicle. Here are the filmmakers that have changed the way I watch movies:

Christopher Nolan

I know this is a bit of a film bro cliché, but I promise I’m not one of those film school douchebags who’s convinced they’re going to be the next great big budget auteur. Like a lot of other people my age, I discovered Christopher Nolan through the batman movies. I was taken to see The Dark Knight by my parents when I was 10 years old, not having seen Batman Begins, and it blew my mind. For years after that, I was one of those arseholes who had a terrible Joker impression that I whipped out at parties, until I became aware of the cliché and never did it again.

In the years since I’ve watched all of his other movies and gained a new love of Interstellar and The Prestige – movies that taught me a lot about the authorial voice and interweaving a central theme into every element of a film. I also learned that just because I find it annoying when the same tropes turn up in every Quentin Tarantino movie, recurring tropes throughout a filmmaker’s catalogue aren’t universally a bad thing.

The Coen Brothers

Representation is important. The tough thing about watching films from an auteur-driven perspective is that so many of the most important filmmakers in Hollywood are approaching their films from a white, Christian, male perspective. Scorsese is a particularly difficult director for me to appreciate because so many of his films are overtly informed by his Christianity. My Jewish identity is the most significant aspect of my identity, so naturally I’m always looking for films made from a Jewish perspective, overt or otherwise.

Whilst the Coen brothers don’t always make movies about explicitly Jewish characters or subject matters, their Jewishness always comes out in their writing, particularly in the totally undidactic way they approach the subject of faith in almost every film they’ve made. Their approach to God, fate, spirituality and religion is never one of moralising certainty, but rather a questioning one, which is a fundamental aspect of Jewish existence. I feel represented on multiple levels in the films of the Coen brothers, particularly in Inside Llewyn Davis which is my favourite film of the last decade, in ways that other directors could never manage. For the same reasons I will forever be excited about the potential of the Safdie brothers.

Stephen Spielberg

Whilst the Jewishness of Stephen Spielberg is a major attraction for me (Catch Me If You Can, his moody Christmas movie, comes across as weirdly Jewish to me), the thing that has solidified the guy as one of my favourite filmmakers is his approach to telling true stories. Unlike the Coen brothers, it’s Spielberg’s self-assuredness and didacticism that fuels my love of his work. His spate of recent, politically switched-on, historical dramas (Lincoln, Bridge of Spies and The Post) are all incredible achievements in effectively giving quiet dramas about people talking in rooms the tension and stakes of great action movies.

It’s the obvious thing to say at this point that Spielberg is one of the few genuine masters of the cinematic language, but while most will point to his massive, populist movies of the 80s and 90s as the definitive examples of that, I would point to his spottier late career with its moralising and earnestness as where his most exhilarating work lies.

Michael Mann

I like that Michael Mann is uncompromising. He makes films which, based on premise and star power, should be commercial knockouts, but they almost never are. He has an incredibly clear sense of self, and like Nolan has a lot of frequently recurring tropes in his films. Michael Mann makes films about Men Making Tough Choices™. He builds detailed, intensely researched worlds and he loves crime!

There’s something special when a filmmaker can tread the same ground over and over again and never convey the same central message twice. Nearly all of Mann’s movies are gritty, neo-noir thrillers with an obsessive attention to detail, but all of them deal with a totally distinct existential question which runs through every element of the film, from meta casting to set design, to music, to Mann’s pioneering use of digital photography. I’m just obsessed!

Stephen Soderbergh

Soderbergh is a hill that I’m going to be climbing for quite some time, I think. This is a guy who is relentlessly prolific, taking on a ridiculous number of roles on set himself, and working so fast that he often churns out multiple films in a year. With limited funds and a determination to watch movies legally, my progress through Soderbergh’s filmography has been slow, but I’ve loved every one I’ve watched so far.

As much as I love the guy’s mastery of the heist movie, and the way he slips those story telling devices into a lot of his non-heist stories, I think what really gets me about Soderbergh is the way his filmmaking style always seems to feel tooled towards portraying his characters with as much empathy as possible. Often his films are about people working or learning to empower themselves and coming to terms with their own identities. Anyway, go watch Out of Sight! It’s a damn masterpiece!

Kathryn Bigelow

Kathryn Bigelow’s career is full of insane ups and downs, but as far as I’m concerned, despite the difficulties she’s had getting her movies made and seen, she has three unqualified masterworks: Point Break, Strange Days and The Hurt Locker. On this list of directors, Bigelow has perhaps the most stylistically varied body of work, but her best work, much like that of other directors that I find myself drawn to, is largely concerned with obsession. Her characters are deeply flawed, but unwaveringly driven. What I love is that despite her drastic genre change from pulpy action thriller to hyper-realistic docudrama, she’s managed to hold on to that fascination with obsession, and an acute, outsider’s understanding of masculinity and its fragility.

Kathryn Bigelow has had to adapt to keep working, but because of that, she’s managed to develop a voice and a personality that is versatile enough to withstand her career shifts, but strong enough that it hasn’t been chipped away at by the difficulties she’s faced as a woman in Hollywood.

So, what was the point of all this?

Honestly, there wasn’t one. This was a piece of self-indulgence that allowed me to navigate an idea over which I was obsessing for a little while. That being said, I think if I had read something along these lines a few years ago, I would have delved into the world of director-focused movie watching far sooner. It’s hard to quickly and easily define the role of a director in contemporary film, particularly due to the ever growing influence of studios, but in the world in which the above filmmakers operate, the director has final say over all the creative decisions involved in putting together a movie. For me, the most exciting films are the ones that clearly and effectively communicate a single creative voice. Sue me, I love auteurs.

[namelessandfamous]

The 2010s

THE 2010s

Ahh, the 2010s. The decade that I became a full fledged adult in. I experienced the highs, the lows, the mids, the joy, the pain, the riches, the squalor and everything in between. I lived in five different states, five different cities. I traveled the nation multiple times around. I jumped jobs, locations, identities like any fledgling twentysomething that possess the gravitas to explore.

Outside of my being, the world experienced a lot. We experienced two terms of Obama only to enter the Trump era during the final three years of the decade. We lost many a legend—Prince being the one that hit me hardest—and gained a few more. Activism reached a visibility not seen since the 1960s—from Occupy Wall Street to Black Lives Matter. Mass murders became a regular occurrence as overall crime rose all across the nation. Global warming made for both Los Angeles and New York to share similar temperatures in December despite being on the opposite side of the seaboard.

And, musically …

Things shifted so much that they remained the same. Record sales reached a record low yet the record industry began to rebound with the rise of streaming. An entire century’s worth of music is only nanoseconds away for a small monthly fee. The decade saw the rise (and sometimes fall) of dubstep, “alternative R&B”, cloud rap, mumble rap, trap beats (which punctuated almost a majority of popular songs regardless of genres throughout the past ten years), etc.  Adele sold the most records than anyone else despite pop getting more and more EDM-influenced by the minute, Drake was easily the most popular rapper as rap became increasingly non-rap in its sound, R&B continued to thrive outside of the mainstream, rock increasingly became a genre of the past and well, everything else remained the same.

Yet, in my headphones, these ten albums provided the aural narration for various times and places and mental explorations and live experiences throughout this past decade. While I listened to hundreds of albums—and liked just as many—these ten stood out the most to me even if my individual interest in a few has dissipated beyond the time that they spoke to me the most. These ten albums remind me that despite the roller coasters of emotions, thoughts, experiences and mindsets I’ve experienced these past ten years, the 2010s was a good decade, overall. Here are my 10 of the ‘10s:

1.      D’ANGELO, Black Messiah (RCA, 2014)

Arriving on the scene when the nation was in tatters after the rash of police brutality targeting black men around the country (which was never a rare occurrence, mind you, but that’s another screed for another day ….) and the Black Lives Matter movement was in full bloom in the mainstream media, D’Angelo re-appeared some 14 years after his last album, the landmark Voodoo. This re-appearance feel right on time even if it was almost a decade and a half late in an increasingly ADHD world. That it spoke to a nation’s frustration as well as its joy despite such an extended wait was almost miraculous and made claim to it’s title claim. Even more miraculous is just how much the music resonates as much as D’s storied past. A D’Angelo album is almost as mythic as the man but like any myth, neither fails to be magical. So magical that Messiah resulted in many album-long reactions by artists that spanned various genres and commercial statuses.

 2.      KAYTRANADA, 99.9% (XL, 2016)

Released just months before the end of the Obama administration, 99.9%, the full length debut by Montreal maestro Kaytranada treated the pre-election tension in the air—then placing Donald Trump and Hillary Rodham Clinton as contenders to replace the nation’s first black president—like the perfect atmosphere for a party. A decidedly Pan-African dance party, at that. Kaytranda, born Louis Celestin, is an obvious student of black music that spans decades, genres and continents. The son of Haitian immigrants, Kay knows the power of rhythm like any Caribbean expat does. This rhythm powers an one hour long song cycle that never lets up despite many variations in groove and voice (Kay gives the floor to a multitude of vocalists which include  everyone from Anderson .Paak and Phonte to Syd of The Internet and Little Dragon’s Yukimi Nagona to rappers Goldlink and Vic Mensa to even 2000s British pop/R&B superstar Craig David). The sheer joy here—peaking with the late-album, Gal Costa-powered “Lite Spots”—is palpable and it’s groove unstoppable. And it will surely remain so for many years to come.

 3.      INC., No World (4AD, 2013)

The Brothers Aged—Daniel and Andrew-- created a quixotic, otherworldly mood piece in their debut No World. The juxtaposition between D’Angelo and especially Maxwell’s largely carnal “neo soul” velvet and the post-punk atmosphere that colored many a classic on the label that released the album made for an intriguing listen. What stands out most about No World is its subtlety. This is a work that requires several listens before it entirely sinks in. And when it sinks in, it completely submerges.

 4.      JESSIE WARE, Devotion (PMR, 2012)

A merger of soignée “diva” vocals, distinctively British tastefulness, dance music rhythms and commitment to low-key R&B of decades past made Devotion a promising prospect even before its spring 2012 release. Jessie Ware had already built a name for herself via cameos on records by fellow forward thinking Brits SBTRKT, The Joker and Sampha but on Devotion that name became emboldened and placed in caps. A set that’s gossamer (the precise Aaliyah channeling on its opening title track; the lush and almost folksy closer “Something Inside”), earnest (the single “Wildest Moments”), funky (“Sweet Talk”, the Little Dragon-esque “110%”) and stately (the single “Running” which piqued my interest in the first place from its blatant nods to Sade’s “Cherry Pie” and so much sophisti-pop of the same era and origin). Devotion turned out to be such a masterwork that its author has yet to match its range and breadth with a couple more follow-ups that were increasingly pop-orientated and plainer in sound. Regardless of Ware’s musical trajectory, Devotion still stands as one of the best debuts that the 2010s birthed.

 5.      KENDRICK LAMAR, Good Kid mAAd City (Aftermath/Interscope, 2012)/ To Pimp a Butterfly (Aftermath/Interscope, 2015)

Kendrick Lamar. The rapper that almost tracked my entry into adulthood and became one of the biggest rap stars in the world by decades end. In a way, Kendrick almost seemed like a kindred spirit. He and I are both young black men from coastal city-suburbs, born the same year (almost exactly six months apart, in fact), introverted, always exploring even if we don’t like what we find. While Section .80 introduced me into me—and many, many others—into the fantastical world of Mr. Duckworth, it was his 2012 major label debut Good Kid mAAd City that showed the world his actual palate. An incredibly well-curated and extremely accessible release, Good Kid tells the story of really, Lamar’s public persona: a good kid in a mAAd city escapes the turmoil around him—narrowly—when he finds a higher power. In his case, that higher power that provided peace of mind was music. If Good Kid showed the world who mainstream rap’s next auteur was, To Pimp a Butterfly showed us all just how much he was capable of. Arguably, the rap album of the decade, Butterfly was a work of extreme vision. It’s 79 minutes packed with rage, depression, remembrance, questioning, soul and resolve all stoked by Lamar’s new found widespread adulation—sparked by his recent rap fame—and his realization of where his black skin placed him in society. Butterfly’s adventurous yet vaunted sprawl could characterize itself as a wild theater of the mind of one of the last gifted pop-rappers we’ve seen. It could also stand as the Magnus opus that is hard to follow up. Lamar’s subsequent work achieved even more commercial success than Good Kid and Butterfly—both of which debuted at the top of the US pop charts and earned platinum status in a climate where such an award had become extremely rare—as well as continued critical adoration but failed to compel as much as its predecessors. This rather swift creative peak wasn’t relegated to Lamar, however, but also applied to many others that emerged as exciting young forces in music—Drake, J. Cole, Frank Ocean, The Weeknd, Big K.R.I.T. , Miguel, Toro y Moi, etc.—at the dawn of the decades but seemed creatively tapped just a few short later despite wildly increased commercial profiles. Still, both Good Kid and Butterfly’s mark on the game is permanent.

 6.      TORO Y MOI, Anything in Return (Carpark, 2013)

Chazwick Bundwick began as an insanely talented hipster recording warm yet self conscious “chillwave” under the name Toro y Moi during the beginning of the decade. Then Anything in Return, his third album,  was released and Bundwick was no lomger a cutesy indie poster boy but a distinct artist in his own right. A swooning, often sensual set of midtempo grooves with hooks that stick like gum, Anything in Return is millennial angst with a sweet aftertaste. Inspired by a failed relationship, While Bundwick’s melancholy is audible, the music’s sexy optimistic is what makes it so hard to shake. Toro’s following releases were all less interesting than the last even if at least a couple tried to follow Anything’s template. Yet, the bar set by Anything may have proven hard for Toro to reach even if the bar for its sheer enjoyment will likely never too high.

 7.      SOLANGE, A Seat at the Table (Columbia, 2016)

On the night of November 8, 2016, I stood downstairs of a LA Fitness in the San Fernando Valley, California and watched with several others on the television screens above as Donald Trump was in a landslide of a lead over Hillary Rodham Clinton as the 45th President of the United States of America. Amongst all of us that stood there, there was a multitude of emotions and reactions. Mine was one of sheer rage, if not astonishment. Prior to this night, I had been living in Glendale, a predominately Armenian-American enclave to the east of Hollywood. The lack of fellow black faces was assuaged by three aural black girl manifestos—Jamila Woods’ debut Heavn, Esperanza Spalding’s Emily D+Evolution and most strikingly, Solange’s third release A Seat the Table. Yet, on this night that the country was beginning a steep decline that it couldn’t retract for another quarter-decade, A Seat the Table acted as an elixir yet again. An album of mood—mainly rage and frustration—that was dictated by tone—delicate, airy, proudly feminine and definitely defined by its culture-Black with a capital AND bolded B, Seat played a feminine yang to the aforementioned Black Messiah (the album that undoubtedly inspired its creation) and Butterfly’s more masculine yin. It was the album that summed up a collective mood of a people even if it was markedly personal. The political has always been personal and vice versa and Solange knew this. A huge turning point for both Ms. Knowles’ career—it launched her as a must-hear artist spanning genres and scenes instead of being just you-know-who’s little sister that also sung—and really, many other artists in its wake.

 8.      THE INTERNET, Ego Death (Columbia, 2015)

The Internet began as a likeable but painfully tentative—and youthful-- answer to the “future soul” of LA of the past decade heralded by the likes of trailblazers like J*Davey, Sa-Ra Creative Partners and Georgia Anne Muldrow. Members of the Odd Future collective, The Internet brought a sense of sophistication to the otherwise “bratty”, then under-25 crew. On each follow-up, The Internet grew away from Odd Future’s “shock” image and into their own as a legit force in modern live band soul. By the time of Ego Death, The Internet were no longer just a legit force but now arguably one of the best bands of their generation. Ego Death is a magnus opus and easily the best album to ever come out of the Odd Future camp (only Channel Orange can match it but it can be argued if Ocean was ever an actual member of the crew). Sleek, sexy, clever, thoughtful and distinctively LA (dizzy, balmy, calm), Ego Death is the sound of a band not only finding its wings but soaring. Syd’s supple soprano is fully realized now whereas it was still in development a couple albums ever before. Now fleshed out into a five-member band, the grooves are all vivid—the bass warm and sometimes rumbling, the guitar prickly, the keys always sweet—and the songs—which were just loose groove sketches before—all fully formed. Ego Death’s peaks with the dreamy “Girl”, co-produced with Kaytranada, and proved to be a career highlight for both acts (and made for my personal favorite song of the decade). Yet, despite “Girl”’’s awestruckness, Ego Death never falters. And even if ego dies, its appeal will not.

 9.      THE WEEKND, House of Balloons (self released, 2011)

I still remember listening to “What You Need” on some music blog back in late 2010 in my college dorm. It’s sinewy sexed up R&B groove and lyrical promises to “knock your boot off” were nothing new but it’s approach was. There was something alien about it and sinister. Very sinister. It was almost like hearing the aural equivalent of a Jodeci video directed by David Lynch. It was sensual but dark. Little was known about the artist that recorded “Need” when I first started to listening to the song. All we were given was the name The Weeknd and a blurry gray picture of an obscured face. Soon enough, “What You Need” was given a home via release entitled House of Balloons which was self released and available for free download. And The Weeknd was given a face via an Ethiopian-Canadian singer from Toronto named Abel Tesfaye.  And both House of Balloons and The Weekend were given a distinct aesthetic; an aesthetic that would inform and influence popular music for the entire decade.

 Listening to House of Balloons nearly a decade later is an interesting experience. Back in the days when I downloaded Balloons on its day of release, it’s sound was incredibly fresh. The noirish, downtempo grooves, Tesfaye’s slightly off-key falsetto, naked references to Oxycontin, drugged out debauchery, empty sex and fatal heartbreak, indie rock samples and unrelenting vibe-over-song structure was all so, well, new. It didn’t take long for The Weeknd to be labeled as the vanguard of something called “Alternative R&B” alongside LA-based auteurs Frank Ocean and Miguel.

 Yet, nearly a decade later, Balloons sounds almost like parody. Tesfaye’s vocals seem almost amateur-ish. The lyrics can feel almost like bad fan-fiction. Its low-slung, vibey atmospheres almost generic. Yet, this reappraisal just speaks to just how massive Balloons’ influence was on mainstream R&B and hip hop. What was new in 2011 had become commonplace a decade later. In other words, House of Balloons set the template for what followed on the charts (alongside the entire oeuvre of another fellow Toronto native who went from teen TV star to the rap superstar of the decade). Even if its follow-ups—released months apart—were stronger and more realized. Even if a sanitized and often altered version of these songs were re-released upon The Weeknd signing to a major label conglomerate within a year of his first three efforts’ self releases and packaged as Trilogy (the alterations were largely due to sample clearance issues). Even if The Weeknd became a shell of himself artistically after Balloons—and its two follow-ups Thursday and Echoes of Silence, respectively--while becoming one of the biggest male pop stars in the world by the middle of the decade. Despite whatever occurred in its aftermath, House of Balloons will always remain a document in time of when the new became the standard. And Abel Tesfaye was an exciting force in music, regardless of how brief.

  10.  KHRUANGBIN, Como Todo El Mundo (Dead Oceans, 2018)

By 2018, I finally caught up with the world and entered into the world of streamimg after having my umpteenth iPod Classic clash. Tired of spending $340 every 1.5 to 2 years because of glitch Apple software, I reluctantly decided to let my android become my new source of sound. I signed up for a premium membership on Spotify (no plug!) for $9.99 and pressed play. One feature on Spotify that I grew to anticipate was the Discover Weekly playlist which collected thirty songs that almogriths decided I’d like based on listening history. I was both startled and delighted by how accurate the selections were. While I was already familiar with a large percentage of the songs compiled, I made several wonderful discoveries. The one that stands out amongst the rest is a lazy but endless little funk groove called “Evan Finds the Third Room”. There was something very “exotic” about “Evan” yet familiar. It evoked a lot of things—early ‘80s Lower East Side NYC post-punk, early ‘70s garage funk, Jamaican dub—but sounded like nothing specific. And that is the magic of Como Todo El Mundo, Khruangbin’s--a Texan trio comprised of bassist Laura Lee, guitarist Mark Speer and drummer Donald Johnson—sophomore album. It is music that conjures up a slew of vibes that you’ve heard before but nothing in particular. In other words, it like nothing that you’ve heard before. For instance, the closer (and standout) “Friday Morning” sounds vaguely like what Ice Cube’s “It Was A Good Day” would sound like if it were on a hell of an acid trip. That the trio created such a wonderful psychedelic musical carpet ride that remains funky and irresistible throughout its duration with few words is even incredible. With Como, there is no need for any psychedelic substance your body when the music here already bends your mind and soothes your spirits so vividly.

 10 That Almost Made the 10 of the ‘10s:

Frank Ocean, Channel Orange (Def Jam, 2012)

Jose James, Blackmagic (Brownswood, 2010)

Erykah Badu, New Amerykah: Return of the Anhk (Universal Motown, 2010)

JMSN, JMSN (White Room, 2014)

Dam-Funk, Invite the Light (Stones Thow, 2015)

Freddie Gibbs & Madlib, Pinata (Madlib Invasion, 2014)

Little Dragon, Ritual Union (Peacefrog, 2011) OR Nabuma Rubberband (Loma Vista, 2014)

Flying Lotus, Until the Quiet Comes (Warp, 2012)

Robert Glasper Experiment, Black Radio (Blue Note, 2012)

YG, My Krazy Life (Def Jam, 2014)

[geniusgub]

told you so//tom holland

warnings: fainting, hospitals, IV, malnourishment, talk of Heath Ledger and his death, sad boi Tom

///

inspired by tom's insta story where he thanked fans for his teen choice award win

///

Tom is always dedicated to his work and will do whatever he can to make the audience believe his character. He works endless hours on his lines, on understanding his character, and getting into the mindset of his role. But something he always dedicated a large amount of time to is his weight.

Spider-Man is an incredibly physical role. Tom was on set and doing stunts every day. He needed the muscle to support that, and he had to keep his weight constant so that his suit fit him and he didn't cause a giant problem for the wardrobe department.

But for Cherry, he's playing a veteran that is riddled with PTSD. He studied up on the disorder and discovered the effect it has on the human body, and decided that he needed to lose some of his muscle and drop some weight.

He didn't tell me this flat out though. I noticed him eating less and less over a week, after a particularly long and in depth production meeting. He decreased breakfast from a full meal to just a protein shake, and refused dinner on most days and replaced it with a workout at the gym. To say this new diet scares me is an understatement.

I'm not an actor. I don't completely understand his world. But I've been dating Tom for a few years, and I know enough to recognize that weight changing is a common practice in Hollywood. But just because it's common doesn't mean that it's right. I've heard horror stories in the media of certain roles burning out actors and ruining their lives, and that is the last thing I want to happen to Tom.

I watch as Tom comes sauntering into the kitchen, passing me with nothing but a kiss to my cheek and a whispered good morning, his voice gravely with sleep. I'm up early to study for an upcoming exam, papers already sprawled out on the island.

I sneakily watch as Tom pulls out ingredients such as protein powder, bananas, and peanut butter, then the blender. "Are you, uh-" I huff out a breath, looking down at my textbook, trying to make the conversation more nonchalant, "gonna have more than just a shake?"

"Don't think so," Tom murmurs as he starts slicing the banana. "I'm on this diet still, you know that." I open my mouth to respond but chose not to say anything, just shaking my head and deciding to drop the subject again. "What?" Tom quips after a moment of silence. "You have something else to say. I know you. Don't lie, you've got something to say."

I drop my highlighter and swing around on my barstool to face him. "Tommy, I'm just nervous about this diet, okay? I know that it's working and you're losing weight and muscle like you want to, but I'm just nervous how this is gonna affect your body and your health in the future. The last thing I want to happen is for this to ruin you."

Tom drops the banana in his hand and rushes over, placing his hands on my cheeks. "This isn't gonna ruin me. I'm okay, yeah? I'm completely fine. I'm just twenty pounds lighter. That's all."

My eyes widen and I grab onto his thinning wrists. "You've lost twenty pounds? Baby, that's too much. That's way too much! You told me ten pounds at first and I said that was too much, but twenty? That's too much!"

"It's not too much. I'm healthy, I promise." Tom swears, leaning his head forward and kissing my forehead. "We're only a week into shooting and the Russo's said everything looks great."

"I don't give a shit what the Russo's think. I care about you and your health-"

Tom huffs out a breath and drops his hands. "I am fine. You don't need to worry about me. My trainer says I'm fine, the medic on set says I'm fine, everyone agrees that I'm fine. I've only got another two months of this diet and then I'll have to bulk up for the next Avengers movie and I'll be back to the way I was before." He turns around and quickly finishes off his protein shake, putting it in a cup and closing the lid. "I'll see you tonight, okay? Good luck on your exam, I know you'll crush it."

He's kissing me and he's out the door before I can say anything else. Okay, so, that conversation didn't go anywhere close to what I had planned.

I pack up my books and head off to class for my exam, which is actually quite difficult. Or maybe I was just too busy thinking (worrying) about Tom to focus on a test. I guess I'll never know.

After my exam, I hurry off to my study of human behaviors class, hoping that today's topic will distract me from worrying about how my boyfriend is doing on set. But, of course, that hope is crushed when my professor pulls up a picture of Heath Ledger.

"Today we're going to be talking about Heath Ledger, and how his preparation for the role of the Joker effected him. Some believe the intense preparation even added to his death." She saunters around the front of the room without a care in the world, babbling on and on about how Ledger got into his character by locking himself in a hotel room and keeping a dark diary, filled with quotes, pictures, and his lines.

"Ledger was so deep into his character that he turned to medication to help him do things as simple as sleeping. Maggie Gyllenhaal even said that she could barely look at him while filming, and the crew was too nervous to be around him between takes because he would still be in character. So I pose this question to you all, did his dedication to his role and the extreme preparation for this role lead to his death?"

Oh god. Please no. This is exactly what I don't need to hear right now. Not today. Not while Tom is filming Cherry and I can't be with him at all times. Not when I get one text a day from him since he's so busy shooting scenes. Not ever.

Multiple hands shoot up to respond to the professors question. She picks a bubbly blonde in the front row. "His preparation definitely led to his death. He pushed himself too far and he couldn't handle the pressure of the movie, the pressure of stardom, the pressure of the Joker being so engrained in his mind. He couldn't shake it when filming ended, and it truly made him become some version of a psychopath."

Another student butts in. "Yeah, it's so obvious. He turned to drugs because he couldn't handle the role."

One other adds his opinion. "It's like Natalie Portman in Black Swan. She had to lose all this weight so she ate almonds and carrots for, like, months on end. And then she was in rehearsals all day and she dislocated a rib, but kept training. She said she thought she was gonna die on most days. It's very possible for actors to get so wrapped up in role that they lose a bit of reality. I totally think Heath Ledger died because of the Joker."

With that last student, I pick up my backpack and laptop and go stomping out of the lecture hall, choking back tears. I dramatically throw my belongings into my car and speed off, wiping my cheeks and trying to keep my emotions together.

I park in the first spot I see and jump out of my car, heading off to Tom's trailer, hoping that he'll be there, although the chances are slim. I've only been to Tom's trailer for Cherry once, and it was the first week of him filming. It's been lived in now, so I'm sure it looks quite different.

I hadn't expected his trailer to be a complete mess. At home, Tom is a little messy but always cleans up after himself. He clearly hasn't cleaned or let anyone clean up after him. There's clothes and shoes all over the floor and furniture, the sheets are messed up on the bed like he's been tossing and turning while sleeping, and the kitchen area is a complete wreck. There's a pile of papers and books on the coffee table that I make the terrible decision to investigate.

Having PTSD just messes up your whole life. I couldn't even get the energy to clean my house, or even my room, or my kitchen, or anything. I would throw things around and I would break things and just leave them. PTSD left me completely unable to function as a human. I couldn't sleep. How would I be expected to clean up after myself when I'm falling asleep standing?

Of course, his trailer like this is to keep himself in the character. I wonder if his costars can stand to look at him between takes.

The trailer door opens a moment later and I'm wishing it's Tom, but it's Harrison coming in, nonchalantly kicking a shoe aside to get to the fridge. "Oh hey, didn't know you were coming by. Tom didn't mention it."

"Is Tom gonna die?" I blurt out, my eyes pooling up with tears. Harrison's eyes widen at the wild question. "I'm scared he's gonna die. He's so into this character and he's gonna die, isn't he?"

"Oh my gosh, breathe, love. Tom isn't gonna die. Where are you getting this from?" Harrison takes a few steps closer to me, but it doesn't comfort me in any way.

"He's not eating, Harrison. I've seen him make food but I haven't seen him actually eat anything in almost a month. He's dealing with this disgusting trailer every day. I barely ever see him because he comes home and either goes straight to sleep or he's out at the gym until I'm asleep."

"Maybe you should talk to him." Harrison suggests. "Honestly, I'm worried about him too and I think you're the only person he'll listen to. You just gotta learn to keep your cool." He places his hands on my shoulders. "Why don't you go home and get some rest? I think you're just as tired as he is because you're stressing about it. I'll make sure that Tom goes straight home instead of going out, okay?"

I throw my arms around Harrison's waist in a much needed hug. "Thank you, Haz. You're the best."

"Yeah, I know I am." Harrison jokes with a shrug, letting me go. "Go, get out."

///

Tom doesn't come home for a while, not until I'm laying in bed, eyelids fluttering, ready to sleep. But the bedroom door creaks open, letting in a little bit of light. I listen as Tom bustles around the room to pull off his clothes, leaving him in just boxers for bed. He climbs into bed beside me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I sigh contently, melting into his embrace.

"How was your day?" I murmur, sleep slurring my words.

"It was fine. Go to sleep, you're exhausted." Tom whispers, placing lazy kisses to the back of my neck. "I love you."

///

The next morning is normal. Tom wakes up before me and takes a shower, leaving me alone in bed. But I get up and throw on a comfy sweater, preparing for my day of classes. Tom is heading downstairs as I'm pulling on my leggings, presumably for breakfast.

But just as I'm finishing brushing out my hair, I hear a relatively loud thump from downstairs. I immediately pause, listening for a yelled sorry from Tom, just anything.

"Tom?" I shout, creeping towards the open bedroom door. When I don't hear anything in response, I panic. I run downstairs and into the kitchen, finding the worst sight I could think of.

Tom is unconscious on the floor, a spot of blood on his forehead, and a whole slew of food on the stove. I drop to my knees, pushing Tom's hair out of his forehead. I reach onto the island and grab Tom's phone, unlocking it and dialing 999. I babble off to the operator that my boyfriend fainted when I was in the other room and I don't know exactly what happened, but that he's unconscious. She promises that an ambulance is two minutes away, that I should keep calm, and not move him.

I put the phone on speaker as I wait, setting it on the floor. And just as I do, Tom starts to stir, his eyebrows scrunching up and his head starting to swivel. I lean over him and place a hand on his cheek, forcing a smile, despite his closed eyes. "Hi, sweetheart. Hi, baby." I coo softly, my thumb rubbing across the skin. "Stay right where you are, okay?"

"What happened?" He murmurs, words slurred.

"I think you fainted. There's an ambulance coming, just don't move, baby boy, you'll be okay." I instruct him.

"Work." He whispers, head falling to the side.

"Don't worry about work. I'll call someone later on and tell them. You don't worry about that right now, okay? Just relax, I've got you."

The paramedics come knocking at the front door a moment later, sending me running over to answer it. I lead the paramedics over to where Tom is still laying in the kitchen, watching the paramedics lift him onto the stretcher and strap him in.

Tom reaches for me, making me rush over to his side. I place a hand on his cheek, moving my thumb against his soft skin, giving him a smile. "I'm right here, Tommy. Do you want me to call Harrison, or your mum or dad? Anyone?" Tom just nods, so I assume he wants someone. "Do you want me to come in the ambulance with you?" He nods again. "Okay, then I'm gonna go get some stuff and get right in there with you." He nods a third time, eyes closing all the way now.

I rush around the house in just a few seconds, pulling on a sweatshirt. I collect a backpack with a sweats for Tom, our wallets, our phones, chargers, money, and whatever I can find that we could need.

Tom is just being loaded into the ambulance when I go to lock the door and jump inside. I'm exiled to the corner while the paramedics start working on Tom, leaving me to send out texts to his family to tell them what's going on.

I'm with him every step of the way. I'm there as he rides to the hospital, I'm there as he gets brought right into a room, and I'm there as a doctor comes in to see him. But I'm pushed out a moment later to fill out paperwork, and I have to be separated from Tom.

I rush my way through the paperwork so I can get back to Tom. He would never leave me alone if I was in this situation, and I don't plan to do that to him. So I return the clipboard to a nurse and she leads me back to a different waiting room.

"You can just stay here until the doctor comes around to get you." I nod but have to hold in my groan. I just want to be with Tom.

I sit down and decide to check my phone, finding a few texts. Nikki and Dom says that the whole family is on their way, and Harrison says him and Tuwaine are leaving their golf outing to get here, but it's going to take a while.

I'm not sure how much time passes from when I get to the waiting room and when a doctor comes. Maybe it was ten minutes, maybe it was an hour. I wouldn't know. But a doctor comes around to get me, thankfully refraining from calling out Tom's name and avoiding any possible fan run-ins.

I jump up and rush toward him, smiling nervously. The doctor asks again if I'm here for Tom, to which I nod, and he leads me away from the waiting room.

"So, it seems that he's very malnourished." The doctor tells me, which is no surprise at all. "He is severely underweight and is also very dehydrated. Do you know why this is happening?"

We stop outside of his room and continue talking. "He's preparing for a movie role. His character has PTSD so he decided to lose a bit of weight. I told him it was too much but he swore he was fine."

"Do you know how much he lost?" I tell him twenty pounds and then a little about Tom's diet, and I can tell but his surprised face that Tom is in for some deep shit. "Wow, that's a lot for someone his age and weight. Basically, his body can't handle the work that he's making it do. If he's working on a film set and he's not eating properly, or at all, his body is going to give out because it can't support him. For now, I've got him on an IV drip to hydrate him and I'll come back in a little while to talk to you two about what to do from here."

"Okay, thank you so much. I can go in now?" The doctor nods and then heads off.

Tom's eyes are closed when I enter the room, but I can't quite tell if he's sleeping. Even still, there's a nurse taking his vitals who smiles at me, quickly finishing up and leaving the room.

Tom stirs when I sit in the chair beside his bed, scrunching up his crooked nose. I grab onto his free hand and move my thumb against his knuckles, taking a deep breath. "I can tell you're awake." I murmur, the tiniest smile on my face. "I know you too well."

The corners of Tom's mouth lift up in the tiniest, his eyes fluttering open slowly. "Hi." He mumbles, the word slurred.

"Hi, sweet boy." I keep my voice sweet and smooth. "How are you feeling?"

"Bad." Tom spits out, sighing. His eyes are squinting and he looks like he's in pain.

"Does your head hurt? The lights hurt?" He nods, so I stand and turn off the light, watching the wrinkles in his forehead smoothen out. "Did the doctor check you for a concussion?"

"I-I don't know."

I let go of Tom's hand again and poke my head out of the hospital room, flagging down a nurse. I tell her my concern and she promises to get a doctor in soon, then goes on her way.

"A doctor is coming, Tom." I take my seat again and lace our fingers.

A silence falls over us for a moment, but the quiet makes me more aware of the way Tom's hands are shaking.

"Are you feeling okay?" I whisper. "You're shaking. I just wanna make sure you're-"

"I'm sorry." And suddenly he's breaking down in tears, sobbing loudly. "You were right, I was wrong."

"Shh, sweetheart." I coo, moving to sit on the side of his bed. "Let's not talk about that right now. Right now, just relax and-"

"I don't wanna be here. I wanna go home." He whines, hand squeezing mine as tight as he can, which isn't much at all. He's far too weak.

"I know you do. But you've gotta be here so the doctors can help you get better so you can get home and get back to work. So let's not cry," I wipe my thumbs over his cheeks, "and just relax as much as you can. You can watch tv, close your eyes, so whatever. A doctor is hopefully coming soon to help you."

Tom looks at me with huge puppy eyes, rimmed red from tears. "You're not gonna leave me, right?"

A smile appears on my cheeks, but it feels forced. "Of course I'm not gonna leave you, pretty boy. I'll be right by your side this whole time and for the rest of your life, you know that."

His lips push out in a pout. "You can still call me pretty boy when I'm like this?"

"You'll always be my pretty boy." I leave forward and press a few kisses to his cheek, hopefully calming him down a bit.

The doctor comes back into the room a few moments later, and Tom forces me to hold his hand while the doctor inspects him again, this time for a concussion.

"Yep, your girlfriend is right, you've got a mild concussion. I'd assume you hit your head on something when you fainted, whether it was a cabinet or the floor. It's not too bad though, you should be fine in two or three weeks. But even still, I wanna keep you for the rest of the day. I know it's early, so we'll see how you're feeling later and see if you need to stay the night or you can go. We've got you on an IV to give you some vitamins and some essential things you've been missing out on over the past few weeks. You know where the nurses button is, if you need anything. I'll see you two later."

///

The rest of the day passes incredibly slowly. Tom's family shows up just a little bit after the doctor leaves. They stay for an hour or two, just to keep Tom entertained, but he's being very quiet and really only wants to talk to me. But his family is babying him and talking to him like a child. And as much as I do that to him when I'm consoling him, he absolutely hates when his family does it.

And then Harrison and Tuwaine show up and wreak havoc. I know it's for entertainment purposes and to make Tom laugh. They show up and throw a backpack onto Tom's bed, what's filled with my laptop, smuggled in fast food, some extra clothes for Tom, and a handful of dvd's. Then they loudly make their way around Tom's room, inspecting every single thing that is on the walls or in the relatively empty cabinets. I'm tempted to kick them out so they don't get in trouble, but Tom is laughing and his spirits are lifted, so I don't bother.

By the time a nurse is coming around with lunch for Tom, he's starving. I can hear his stomach rumbling, but that's a sound I've grown accustomed to.

Tom pushes around his food, not interested in the bland hospital food. "I really want what Haz and Tuwaine brought." He eyes the McDonald's bag on the other side of the room. "I don't want this shit."

"I don't know if your stomach can handle that. You haven't had fast food in months and I don't know if that's good for you-"

"Please, baby, I'm so hungry and this looks terrible." Tom begs, pushing the tray of food away from him.

I easily comply, not wanting to put up a fight with him when he's feeling so tortured at the moment. I open the bag and find a ridiculous amount of food, more than me and Tom could ever eat.

"God, these idiots must have bought the whole store out. What do you want-burger, fries, nuggets?"

"Yes." He responds, making me roll my eyes.

"You're impossible." I pull out a small fry, a cheeseburger, and six piece nugget and hand it over to him, watching him smile happily. "You're nuts. Please eat slowly and drink a lot of water. I don't want you getting sick and throwing up."

"Can we watch a movie too?" He shoves a nugget in his mouth and gestures to my laptop. I agree, pulling up Netflix and starting a random movie, setting my computer on the bed.

Thankfully, Tom doesn't have to stay the night. He's built up enough strength through the IV, food, and relaxation for the doctor to feel good about him going home. So he gets out of his hospital gown and into some sweats, signing discharge papers and wobbling out of the hospital room. And since I rode in the ambulance with Tom, Harrison comes to pick us up and drive us home.

"Looking a bit better, mate." Harrison says, giving Tom a bro hug when we get to the car.

"Thanks for picking us up." Tom mumbles before jumping into the backseat.

"Thank you so much, Haz. You're the best." I give him a tight hug before sitting beside Tom in the backseat and heading home.

///

"Do you wanna go up to bed or stay on the couch?" I ask once we step inside, dropping our bags beside the door. Tessa is off at his parents house, so our house is silent.

"I wanna go shower, and then go to bed." He mumbles, taking the lead upstairs and hobbling into the connected bathroom. I collect him some fresh boxers and a tee shirt, putting them on the counter for him when he's done. I busy myself by changing the sheets and fixing up the bed, distracting myself from the craziness of the day.

"Babe!" Tom starts calling. "Baby!"

I panic, fearing the worst, rushing into the bathroom. "What? What's wrong?"

"Will you come in with me?" He asks like a child, pouting, his curls dripping over his forehead.

"I thought something was wrong." I groan, but begin stripping off my clothes anyways. I step into the warm water and sigh of relief, happy to wash away the stress of the day. I immediately wrap my arms around Tom's skinny waist, burying my face in his neck. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"Yeah, me too." Tom sighs, hand running up and down my back gently. "Thank you for being there for me. You're the best girlfriend ever."

"Thanks." I chuckle with an eye roll. "I'm just glad you're home."

We finish up in the shower not long after, since being exposed to the warm water for too long could make Tom faint again. So we get dressed and crawl into bed, curling up under the cold duvet. I rest my head on Tom's chest and close my eyes, trying to drift off to sleep.

"You can say it now, you know?" Tom murmurs, lips ghosting over my forehead.

I smile softly, letting a beat pass. "I told you so."