#will update as the fake movie continues??
Goncharov Lore Thus Far, based on the top tumblr post results
Main cast are Goncharov himself, his wife Katya (née Michailov), and Andrey 
One side character is named Mario Ambrosini. He is described as a “sad boi” and is involved in gambling. 
Set in Naples and involving a drug ring/mafia. The plot seems to involve Russian organized crime attempting to get a foothold in Italy. 
There is a Boat Scene. Katya survives via resourcefulness. 
Andrey and Goncharov have a substantial amount of homoeroticism. Andrey also has an internet in Katya. This forms a true love triangle. 
At some point, Katya threatens to shoot Goncharov. This is framed as a Girlboss Moment. 
There is also a Beer Bottle Scene. 
Katya fakes her death. 
99K notes · View notes
irabelaswriting · 4 months
halcyon 1/2
pairing: morpheus x f!reader  |  rating: E  | words: 5.2k |  ao3
tags: #1 emo boy’s coping strategy being avoidance?, checks out, halloween party, the mask comes off, pining, angst, jealousy, possessiveness, semi-public sex, exhibition kink, fluff, no use of y/n,
summary: Getting ghosted by a literal dream felt... very small. A niche subgroup that you couldn’t really turn to anyone about – and that you’d rather not even belong to in the first place. 
That time Morpheus doesn’t keep his promise. 
Until he does.
a/n: the sequel to influx is here! tags will be updated when part 2 is posted. hope y'all enjoy, let me know what worked and what didn’t<3
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The party has been going on for a couple of hours now. Your friend has all but abandoned you to go after some situationship, leaving you with acquaintances who you barely recognize beneath the layers of greasepaint and masks of different movie slashers. 
Weight shifting on your feet, you look around. 
The guy your friend has roped you into seeing rounds the corner, mask tilted to the side as he grins at you. He’s dressed as that slasher from Friday the 13th; or at least, you think so. A hockey mask sits tilted to one side of his face, jaw and jowls smeared in sticky fake blood, costume haphazardly put together with a bloodied orange prison uniform. 
Everyone needed a costume to get in – your friends had made sure you weren’t able to sit this one out because of a lack of it. And so, you got put in a deliberately skimpy outfit — bare shoulders with a low cut, and stay ups. 
Pretty. Flattering. Inviting. 
Even if it still was up to interpretation as to exactly what you were supposed to be. 
“Thought I lost you.” He holds out the can of generic brand hard seltzer towards you, smiling. 
That was unlikely. You hadn’t moved on an inch from where he’d left you, and you fight the urge to raise a doubtful brow. 
You don’t really remember his name (was it Josh? John? James? … Jason? the outfit would be eerily fitting, in that case, maybe even on the verge of bad taste), just that he’s shown interest before at some mutual event. Hung around, asked about you, added you on your socials afterwards. Liked every picture posted and swiped up on every story, heart and fire emojis in abundance. 
You’ve blown him off with that easy, breezy way that you use on people you have no real interest in. Let him down easy, not wanting to cause a scene. He is, after all, on the fringes of your friend group, and it would be sad to make that circle any smaller than it already is. 
So, you’ve let Josh put his hand on your hip, fingers splaying out against the small of your back. Let him get a good look down your cleavage every time he so much as turns to look at you. Let him guide you into conversations with that hold on you, like you might vanish into thin air if he lets you out of sight, or as if you might get stolen away by some other adversary. 
With a small thanks, you accept the drink. The crack and fizz as you open it and take a sip fills the void for long enough that Josh starts talking again, ushering you back into the crowded living room with his hand on your hip, too low to just be friendly.
And why not? It wasn’t like Morpheus had been around. 
At first, the visits had continued. As he had suggested. 
Morpheus would appear at the oddest times – in the middle of your living room, or in your bedroom. One time, you’d stepped out of the shower and gotten a real fright, much to his smug amusement. 
And it wasn’t as if he’d just show up and fuck you through the nearest available surface, as you might’ve suspected first. No, he was good company, too. 
If you offered dinner, he’d accept, even help (he would, however, not eat much, only poke the food around, despite trying everything). If he was still around in the morning, you’d wake up with his arms around you. It had even gone so far that you would make enough coffee for the both of you in the mornings – a new addition to your daily routine.  
Perhaps you had grown a bit attached, as he had alluded to. More days than not he would come around. And you had certainly grown accustomed to having him around; that there would be twin pairs of cutlery and plates in your dishrack at the end of the day. 
And if you didn’t want to… well, you hadn’t found yourself in that particular predicament yet.
If you asked, he’d even come along on errands. He wouldn’t say much to anyone else – just listen in on your interactions with cashiers and clerks, observe those around you with a slightly guarded expression. One time he had even joined you on some silly little non-errands; collecting parcels and treating yourself to coffee and cake. 
Hadn’t even protested or pulled away when you wrapped your arm around his on the way home. You had, of course, done everything to make the gesture seem natural and not the carefully planned and orchestrated action it had been, heart thumping in your chest the entire time. 
In fact, you had thought he looked rather pleased at the casual affection.
After getting home that day, he managed to run up your water bill some more. Barely let you get into your apartment before he was on you. 
Hair wet and clinging to his face, eyes glimmering up at you as he let you dangle on the precipice of yet another orgasm. 
You wet your lips with another sip of your drink, trying to rid the image of Morpheus on his knees in your shower.
It was as if he had vanished without a trace. Slipped through your fingers like sand. 
A month had passed. From the beginning of October to the end of it — only really dragged to this particular Halloween party by your friends because you were a moping mess most of the time that refused to elaborate as to why your mood was so depleted. 
Morpheus had used you. It— it had worked. You were out of his hair – no longer his problem. He had taken back what had been unwillingly bestowed upon you at that first meeting, so many weeks ago, and left you high and dry. 
It had been what you wanted; the ability to get your rocks off had definitely returned. But now, you acquired another, different, problem. Every orgasm was fueled by thoughts of him; making up for lost time, masturbation statistics shooting up faster than rent in a gentrified neighborhood. All of them subsidized with new fantasies, no– memories replaying across your retina. 
Still quivering from the comedown, Morpheus lodged inside you, grinding deep, almost too deep for comfort. Lean arms wrapping around your torso, slender fingers digging into the softness of your sides, pulling you down in union with his raised pelvis. Hips pistoning, tapping repeatedly upwards, until you wail into the crook of his neck, unable to do anything but letting him take what he needs. 
Thighs rubbing together, you shift on your feet, inhaling through your nose, steadying yourself from thinking more about any sexual ventures. 
As the days turned to weeks with no further call or interaction from Morpheus, not even the merest whisper in your dreams (that had all returned to the same boring routine of your teeth falling out or other mishaps) that he cared, you had started to suspect that he... had forgotten about you. 
Used you for the purpose he had stated and then left. That you were nothing more than a means to an end. 
And sure, that happened. Not like you’d been a virgin, or even inexperienced in the one night stand department—
It just—
He had not seemed like the type to instill false hope into you. 
But as time passed you couldn’t help but feel as if that was the case. 
Why had he stuck around then?
Getting ghosted by a literal dream felt... very small. A niche subgroup that you couldn’t really turn to anyone about – and that you’d rather not even belong to in the first place. 
Was it something you said? Something you did? You had recounted every interaction, every exchange like a heartbroken teenager, trying to find a reason for the abrupt end. Even shed a few tears about it in the dark of night. 
Maybe it had been true, what he had called you – lonely girl. So desperate for a connection that this mere fling of intimacy had your heart soaring, had brightened your days enough to make you actually look forward to them. 
Suddenly despondent, you take another sip of your drink, feigning a smile as Josh finishes yet another story that has the cluster of people surrounding you laughing. Again. 
Really, you had thought you’d even gotten better at reading Morpheus’ cues. The little telltale signs that he wanted to touch you, wanted you to touch him, that he needed to leave or that he found whatever it was that you dragged him along to was particularly amusing. Even with your limbs entwined in bed, you had gotten better at figuring out his cues – exactly how he wanted to be kissed, wanted to have you. 
Had you been wrong all along? 
Perhaps it was the same as what you were doing to Josh. Leading him on by not swatting away his hand the moment it landed on your hip, by laughing along at a bad joke he told. Instilling him with hope, the promise, that you would go home with him, maybe even let him pull you into one of the many vacant bedrooms on the floor above and let him do as he pleased. 
Maybe you were the same as Morpheus. 
Maybe you deserved what he’d done to you – how he’d left you. Alone and hoping. A thin layer of something like sand in his wake you’d spent the good part of two days finding scattered across your apartment and which you had subsequently vacuumed up, cursing him under your breath the entire time. 
Thoughts turning dark, you zone out all the noise, the music, the people, around you; the bass is the only thing you feel, thrumming through your system. 
In the peripheral of your vision, something moves. Barely, you turn around in vice like grip Josh still has on your hip, eyes searching in a crowd of muddled and masked faces–
A person, dressed in all black moves through the crowd, just a few feet away. A mask so unusual that it’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen before covers their face; made up of a long, boney appendage and tinted pieces of glass shielding the eye sockets. Around you, people stop and stare, almost startled as they’re passed by. No one makes any moves to approach the mysterious figure, letting them pass by as if all they’re seeing is a mere stranger on the street. 
The stranger doesn’t seem to mind, no– notice, any of the odd looks. 
Instead, the scarlet glass covered eyes lock with yours, eerily familiar. 
A shiver races through your system. 
As if nothing has happened, noise fills your ears again, loud music reverberating through your system, everyone around you seemingly forgetting the sight of the wispy form of a stranger. 
What was that?
“Just gonna get another drink,” you mumble, barely giving any mind to pleasantries for the moment, untangling yourself.
“You just got one.” Josh’s brow furrows momentarily. Instantly, you’re reminded that he was the one who got the can for you, that hurt tinges the fringes of his voice. Like he’s a puppy you’ve just kicked. 
“Not a big fan of cherry.” You lie on the spot, scrunching your nose up and shaking the can back and forth. “I’ll be right back,” you add over your shoulder, hitting him with the most charming, reassuring smile as you leave to investigate. 
The eyes that you feel lingering over your rear are unmistakably his. 
Quickly, you act, intent on not losing track of the figure. 
You don’t know what you saw — just that you feel inexplicably drawn to it. The mask was weird, in an uncannily familiar way; as if you’ve seen it somewhere, passed it by in a shop window without sparing it a single thought. With its giant bug eyes it would’ve looked like an overgrown dragonfly if it wasn’t for the spine-like mouthpiece – and surely, you think you would remember seeing that. 
Getting through the crowd is easy; and as you move into the hallway you swear you catch something moving towards the end of the staircase. 
Tendrils of black smoke lick at the varnished wood posts going up to the second floor. They curl upwards and inwards like tails, a soft beckoning motion, before vanishing into thin air, one after another. 
And like a dog on a leash – you follow. 
The last wisp of dark shadow sneaks around the bend, just enough that you don’t miss it. Drink willfully abandoned at the bottom of the stairs, you start the climb upwards. 
A long corridor greets you, filled with large wooden doors in the darkest of oak, dimly lit and foreboding. 
Hand on the stair post as you twist around, already forming a plan to start your search at the shorter end of the hallway when you feel it.
Maybe it’s some primal instinct from when humans were prey more than predator – but the hair on the back of your neck prickles, feeling the weight of a presence behind you.
Your breath hitches. 
Slowly, as if any sudden movements would scare them off, you turn around. 
Your own reflection stares back at you, painted red like guts. It’s even stranger up close, the mask; all metal and stone, glass and bone. Much more of a helm than a mask, you note. 
“... Morpheus?” 
A ruby dangles around his neck, crimson like thick blood. 
“Take off the mask, it’s creepy.” You say, suddenly uneasy at seeing yourself in the bugeyed reflection. “You look like the cryptkeeper.”
“That’s my sister.” The voice is distorted through the helm, but sure enough – it’s him, the baritone familiar, intimately known to you. And he obliges, hair even more tousled than usual as he removes it.
“...What?” You blink, shaking that off as you take him in. Despite it all, he’s still gorgeous – the mere expanse of his neck sends a tingle through your body, trying your hardest not to stare at his Adam's apple, the lips you know are soft, that you know has kissed parts of your body that even the skimpy outfit isn’t showing off. “W—what are you doing here?”
“Attending the party.” Morpheus motions to the helmet in his hands. 
“No— very funny,“ his reply shifts you off key, like it’s impossible that he would be here for that simple reason alone. Regaining your footing in the midst of emotions filling you is harder than it should be, and all you manage is a scoff, shrugging. “I wouldn't know. Not like you’ve been around.” 
His eyes roll over you, taking in the costume, the carefully guarded tone you’ve chosen, before he replies. “Circumstances have gotten… complicated.” 
 By your sides, your hands form fists, jaw clenching.
“Great fucking excuse,” you smack a hand into his chest. Him being here doesn’t make you feel any less jilted, any less upset– 
The impact doesn’t even seem to faze him, only meeting the resistance of his chest, but momentarily, his dark brows pull down. “I do not expect you to understand.”
Maybe it’s the alcohol in your system making you braver, angrier, but you voice raises above the conversational volume you’ve kept, no longer able to keep the hurt in your chest contained– 
“Understand? How hard is it for you, of all people, to let me know in a fucking dream or whatever that you didn’t want more than—“
From the foot of the stairs, someone calls out your name. 
You’ve taken too long. Now, Josh is looking for you, intent on leading you towards the end he has imagined all evening. 
“It’s Josh,“ your whisper sounds panicked, even to your own ears as you turn towards the sound. 
“A friend?” 
You don’t hide your eyeroll at his terse tone. “Just some dude—“ 
Morpheus scoffs. 
At once, your head whips back to meet his gaze. 
He’s frowning at you, like a skulking child. 
“Are you serious?” You’re still whispering, and you’re not sure why. “You can’t be seriously upset that I– that I–” 
What was it that you were doing, really? Replacing him by leading along a guy who's had it bad for you since the moment he laid eyes on you? At the realization, the way you’ve clipped your own tongue, you decide that you don’t particularly feel like talking to Morpheus anymore. 
“You left me.” You simply hiss, turning back to hurry down the stairs. 
You’re gearing up to answer Josh’s call, air rushing to your lungs – when slender fingers wrap around your elbow. 
Instead, all that leaves your lips is a startled sound as Morpheus shoves you into an empty bedroom, seemingly exerting no strength while doing so. 
“Hey!” You protest.
Morpheus hushes you, actually hushes you, as he leads the way with you in front of him, out on the bedroom's adjoining balcony. 
Below, the garden is alive with people. Fairy lights twinkle, people in masks and costumes laughing and drinking, music still loud enough to be heard outside. The lights are a bit redundant; a full moon sits fat and round in the sky, illuminating the scene in pale light – a perfect addition to the Halloween party. No one thinks of looking up – or at least, you hope so as Morpheus presses you against him, your back to his front. 
Now, he was the one with a front row seat to look down your cleavage. 
“Stop,” your fingers snag around his wrist, about to struggle to get free, to make the distance more controlled, “let me go.”
“Quiet,” he retorts, “they’ll find us.” 
“It’s all your f—“ the words are cut off as his fingers smarts a garter against the soft plump of your thigh. 
You gasp, momentarily stunned before you’re readying up to turn around and smack him again when his grip tightens. 
“Quiet.” The command is repeated in a whisper right by your ear, punctuated by a pinch to your thigh. Pulling you tighter against him, slender fingers digging into the natural curve of your waist, making sure the two of you are shielded from the inside of the bedroom. 
Warm fingers soothe the hurt on your thigh, even warmer breaths hitting the soft skin of your neck. Gods, you’ve shivered for less. 
And, you feel compelled to listen to him, heart beating at the pit of your throat, adrenaline surging through your system. 
Like a bloodhound on a trail – Josh has followed you. 
Even from out on the balcony, you hear him in the hallway, looking for you, accompanied by someone. 
The hands on your midriff move upwards.
“Where could she have gone?” Josh’s weary sigh is audible enough that you realize he’s right outside the bedroom door now. 
Fingers with light pressure behind them trail up against your ribcage, taking their time before reaching their goal. 
“Not over ‘ere,” responds the other voice, slightly slurred. 
Tucking his head against your shoulder, Morpheus’ hands curve up from below, cupping your tits in his broad hands. Pushing them up like the most scandalous push-up bra would, molding them against his hands as you wriggle in his hold and you think you could curse him now. Heat starts flowing through your veins, and he has to know, feel it through the layers of clothing separating you, embarrassment and want stoked like a fire by his attention. 
“So responsive,” he whispers, a thumb following the natural curve on the underside of one breast, a hot trail left in its wake, testing the plumpness of you with easy pressure.
Deftly, the soft pads of his fingers shift ever so slightly, hooking in the hem of your already low neckline, and slowly, slowly, drags the fabric down. 
Stiff and aching, your nipples tighten even further as your breasts spill out and meet the cold night air. 
Finally, you gasp out loud. 
Anyone could look up from the garden below, see you– 
Morpheus tuts, right by your ear, a quiet reminder of his earlier command.
The door handle to the bedroom is pulled down. 
At once, you freeze. 
You hear Josh tentatively call out your name again, peeking around the room. 
Warm hands move downwards, gleaming eyes following the path from the valley between your bared breasts. 
“Do you think she ran away?” 
Beneath the layers of your skirts, fingers ghosts over your mons pubis, stroking your innermost thighs with a soft touch, until he’s cupping your cunt in his hand. Toying with the crease of wetness that’s obviously there, that has the gusset of your underwear sticky, fingers skirting against your folds as his palm grinds down, pressure applied to your clit. 
“Be just like her to just vanish, wouldn't it?” 
It feels so good, warm honey spreading across your limbs, and you’re hazy with want, body reacting with a full body rush as his touch ignites your body, a thin sheet of sweat breaking out across your skin. Even when your hand grasps around the wrist moving under your skirts, it’s half hearted – you don’t actually want him to stop. He knows exactly what makes you tick, what makes you putty in his hands. 
Perhaps it would feel like losing a battle if it didn’t feel so damn good. 
His touch has that effect on you – soothing the anger, overpowering it with pleasure. 
The conversation, the noise, the people below in the garden, is all buzzed out from his hands on you. 
Someone sighs something – and this time you hear nothing, only the small huff from Morpheus by your shoulder, the low whisper of your name as your legs start to tremble. 
His head buries into your neck – incisors finding soft skin and biting down, tongue slowly alleviating the trail of stinging sharpness he leaves in his wake. A large hand comes to rest against your sternum, keeping you to him tightly, fingers tracing against your collarbones, thumb slowly drawing circles at the divot of your throat, protective, possessive.
A digit strokes around the perimeter of your still covered core, but stays withholding. You bite your lip to keep from whining, eyes squeezing shut as you swivel your hips, trying to entice it to enter you, give you anything to clench down on.  
If they– if they stepped closer to the balcony, leaned out the expensive lead framed windows, they would catch you. They’d find you entangled with a stranger; one of his hands tucked under your skirt, tits out on display like a heathen. Embarrassment courses hotly through your veins, the mere prospect of getting caught making a new rush of wet soak Morpheus’ fingers. 
It’s not something you should want – but it’s been part of your daydreams enough time that Morpheus has to know, has to be intrinsically aware of what this does to you, the thrill of being seen. Just how little he seems to care if someone catches you is only reinforced by the press of a digit to your center, willing you to come apart under him, coaxing– no, daring more sounds to spill from your lips. 
Blood pounds in your ears, almost deafening, shutting out everything around you, making you careless–  
Before the first, proper moan has time to make it past your mouth Morpheus has it covered with a hand, as if he had felt it vibrating in your throat. The ministrations between your legs don’t even pause, no reprieve awarded you. Two fingers even make it past your lips, pressing down on your tongue, muffling more sounds – it’s mere instinct, but you still suck on the digits, wrapping your lips around them. 
You melt into it, into him, a puddle of want as he unravels you, working you like only he knows how to. 
The click of the door shutting reverberates through the room.
Instantly, Morpheus' hand is off your mouth.
Gossamer spit still connects your mouth to his fingers. He presses them together in front of the both of you, spit glistening as he inspects them. 
“You were saying?” He breathes by your ear. 
The haze that’s settled over your mind is dispelled. 
“Forget it.” You pull away from him with a start, wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand, tugging the neckline back up over your bare chest. In the stark moonlight his eyes glimmer as if there’s stars in them as he watches you right your clothing. 
“It seems you have moved on.” He remarks, too casually. As if he deliberates on congratulating you on finding someone interested in you.
“Stop it. You’re the one who hasn’t—“ 
A million demands for explanations, reprimands and sour, hurtful words fill your mind, all of them sitting at the tip of your tongue. A hot sting of tears also tetters dangerously on your lower lash line, ready to burst through – you force that down deep, deep inside. Gods, were you that desperate? Maybe that was why you’d thrown yourself at the first person to show you an ounce of attention as soon as the realization that Morpheus had left you settled in.
Except… he hadn’t. 
He was standing in front of you, on the balcony of some Halloween party you got dragged to. Even brought a mask for the occasion.
The cold breeze lightly tousles his dark hair as he peers down at you imploringly. You knew what that hair felt like, the texture of it, had wrapped locks of it around your fingers. Had run your fingers through it, tugged and tousled and smoothed it and done everything in between to it. 
Wrapping your arms around yourself now that his heat isn’t there to shield you from the chilly night air, you start again. “Is that why you’re here? Because someone took your spot?” 
You wish you could text him, or had some way of contacting him that wasn’t dependent on him being receptive to your advances (or on him simply making those advances first). All this had done was leave you with a feeling of being stranded – no way of knowing when or even if he was coming back. Stuck in a rowboat in the middle of the ocean. 
You huff. “It’s not like I can get a hold of you.” 
“I am not available at mosts’ beck and call.” The way he says it makes you feel like you’re getting a parental scolding. “My realm is vast, my duties never ending. Other matters have needed my attention–” 
Nails dig into your palms. Imprudent, you cut him off.
“If you wanted to, you would.”
He looks like he’s never been interrupted in his entire life. Probably hasn’t – being who he is.
What he is.
Where he came from is the place between the stars and the sky, the unexplored trenches of the sea, the still hidden places of this earth that you knew nothing of. 
Endless, an ebb and flow you can’t even begin to comprehend. Millenia of consciousness in one person– no, in one being. 
Suddenly, you feel stupid. Infinitely small and insignificant. An amoeba in the grand scheme of things. 
The tears feel a lot closer to spilling over your lash line than they did before. 
“And,” Morpheus finally says, as if he’s been privy to the thoughts racing through your mind, “I tend to forget how differently time is perceived by mortals.” 
It’s not an apology. But you feel as if he’s admitting something he never has to anyone else, ever. 
You fight away the unbidden fat tears with the back of your hand, voice only wavering slightly. “How– how did you know where I was?”
“I haven’t been completely idle in seeing to that your well-being was kept,” he pauses, scowling at the wetness of your eyes, words hanging in the air before he continues, “up to standards.” 
Not that you’ve been well – he’s not using that particular terminology to describe the state you’ve been in. Because well, you hadn’t. Probably, he knows exactly how mopey and depressed you’ve been, sitting around waiting for him to arrive, to make good on his promise. 
It– it must’ve been something urgent needing his attention if he didn’t come to you, didn’t let you know, despite that. 
Intuitively, you sense that he doesn’t want to discuss that with you, what had caused him to be so swallowed up he couldn’t even bother giving you a dream version of a wyd? – atleast, not now. No matter what kind of talents you may have acquired for the arcane, there were many things you didn’t understand, that you didn’t know about Morpheus. 
“How?” You ask instead. 
“A raven.”
“A raven?”
As if on cue, a raven takes flight. Almost silent, the large wings spread out as it takes off, the leaves from the tree it had been perched in parting softly to let the watcher in the canopy pass. 
“His name is Matthew.” 
The raven circles high above you, cawing again in greeting, corvid outline stark against the brightness of the full moon.
“I’ve never met a crow named Matthew.” You say, eyes stuck on the bird in the sky. 
“I’ll have to introduce you.”
You laugh at that – the first unfeigned laugh of the evening, of the past weeks. 
Morpheus’ face cracks, if only slightly. A secret uptick of his mouth as he takes in your smile, the sound of your joy. 
Without any further prompting, you feel your walls fall. It’s disarming, seeing him again. Hearing him. Being near him. It’s as if your magnetic field shifts – you want to orbit closer to him, want to stray from your already pre-designed course if it meant being just an inch closer to him. A gravitational pull as natural as the ocean’s ebb and flow controlling the tide. 
Slowly, you inch closer to Morpheus. Arms wrap around his narrow middle, pressing closer, resting the side of your head against his chest, nuzzling into the dark fabric, the feel of coarse fibers against your skin a reminder that it’s real. He feels warm — decidedly warmer than the chilly, almost November air. 
You whisper into the textile, voice small as you speak, as if he’ll disappear if you let him go.
“I’ve missed you.”
For a moment, nothing happens. 
Then, his arms circle your frame, keeping you tight against him. 
It feels wonderful, being in his arms, being close to him after so long. Breathing in his scent, as ineffable as everything about him. 
The full moon sits fat and round in the sky, painting the both of you in pale light. It frames him well, you think, enhancing the dark of his hair, his gleaming eyes. The cloak, almost night itself, shields you from some of it, covers your sides as he cages your form, envelopes you.
If someone looked up from the garden, they would only see two lovers embracing. 
Quick, and before you lose your nerve, you rise up on your tiptoes, giving him a peck on his chin, soft and unassuming. 
At once, Morpheus has your face cradled in his hands, thumbs tracing against cheekbones, brushing away remnants of wetness still lingering, lips ghosting over your forehead, before he leans down and finally, finally, kisses you.  
The wind tousles both of your hair, chilly and cold. You don’t notice it, barely feel the icy needles digging into your exposed skin – only feel the fire inside you, the molten core reginiting, atoms vibrating from the exchange of heat between you, returning the kiss in kind. 
You think he missed you too.
thank u all for the love on influx<33 i am so happy so many of you liked it! please let me know your thoughts, i love comments and tags and hearing your opinions, it fuels me. let me know what worked and what didn’t.
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weoris · 1 month
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄! and a shit ton of crack.
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sometimes, jungwon absolutely hates his friends (not srsly ofc u jungwonphobes), the teasing, the annoying banter, the constant chaos. but it was times like this, where he was thankful their parents didn’t sleep that night.
“Oh! Sorry..” Hanni spoke as she bumped into another girl on their college campus.
“No worries.” The bumped-into replies as she turns around to face Hanni.
“Wait—y/n?” She yelps slightly.
Jungwon whips his head.
“Look at him, I pour my heart out to him and he ignored everything, but at the mention of her name he’s all ears.” Ni-ki dramatises.
“You were complaining about your school banning your favourite illegal movie website on the Chromebooks and not being able to watch the my little pony movie.” Jake sighed.
“My heart is made for twilight sparkle.”
And their whole conversation went unnoticed by Jungwon as he stared at your interaction with Hanni. The two of you were laughing and talking together—about god knows what but all that went though Jungwon’s head was, Woah the loml is fine af.
“He’s right there!” Hanni said pointing at jungwon.
Hold on, pointing at jungwon??
he immediately coughed and looked at the two boys in front of him, pretending to converse while Ni-ki glared at him and Jake smiled in disbelief as he waved at the girls. Y/n waved back with a chuckle at the others’ silliness. “The love of your life is starring at us.” He said through his teeth while continuing to wave as Hanni held in her laugh.
“What’s she doing now?” Jungwon asked while pretending to laugh and be deep in conversation with a still angry-twilight-sparkle-mourning-Niki glaring at him.
“Well.. she was laughing at you two.”
“Oh-hoh! god that’s terrible!” He said through his teeth while still fake-laughing.
“And now she looks weirded-out and is probably asking Hanni why you’re fake-laughing to Ni-ki who looks like he’s about to beat the shit out of you.”
“Jesus.. ok im gonna run away. On 3 ok?”
“Ok run fast cause she’s coming.”
“Of course I’ll run fa- huh?!”
“Uh..” and he ran, sprinted away while holding Niki’s arm and dragging him with him, embarrassing the two young boys miserably..
well fuck.
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TAGLIST! @kohakun @quokkasunggie @nyfwyeonjun @mynameisnotlaura @kange3939 @yenqa @hanniluvi @urszn @invusblog @starcubes @strwberrydinosaur @rosabella1009 @w3bqrl @boowoowho @felixsburntbrownie @sunoksunny @sd211 @ahnneyong @mutlishipperfangirl @lonewolfjinji @b4mbidoll @jungwon-kitten @yunki4evr @silcry @son4taa @sserafimez @wonniestars @silcry @bubblytaetae @ja4hyvn @dimplewonie @xiaoderrrr
a note from xin ☆ sry for not updating 😭 promise the story is never gonna be discontinued and I’ll try to update more often !
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yesimwriting · 8 months
Business Practical
A/N debated writing this bc i already have so many things in my draft i want/need to finish but the new Elvis movie has completely taken over my mind. Austin Butler’s Elvis only though, real life Elvis is super sus. Also this may not be perfectly historically accurate,, but we’re accepting that bc it is not that deep and not worth my stress!! Also this taught me that I will never understand the spelling of ‘colonel’ like it just doesn’t sit right with me. 
Summary: After the release of your hit single, you think that the rest of your career is set. Or at the very least, you’re guaranteed an easy release of your next album. Too bad your label thinks your record’s going to fail if you don’t find someone famous enough to record a duet with you. Fortunately for you, your squeaky clean, America’s newest sweetheart image is just the kind of thing Elvis needs around him to protect himself from his own controversy. (i set this up to have a part 2 but i’m on the fence about it lol, so ig if you’d like to be tagged lmk) 
Update: Chapter II  
Y/n’s POV
I may not know everything, but I know music. I know my music, and I know I know how to perform my music. That’s the only reason I’ve never experienced stage freight when it comes to performing. Because of that, people assume that I’m confident all the time. Now, I’m not one to shy away at the drop of a hat, but my nerves have been tangling my stomach since this morning. 
Will had made it sound like the easiest thing in the world when he pitched his idea in my living room. The label’s sending you to his show, you’ll be escorted backstage right after. It’ll be easy for you since we both know you don’t know how to take ‘no’ as an answer. Everyone in my house was ecstatic. Sure, there’s controversy around him, but no one can deny his talent and success. 
I might be pushy when I need to be, but it’s not like I can strong arm a phenomenon into recording a song with me. I insisted that he’d be better suited for this. Will is a professional and he looks the part. I still feel like a child whenever anyone starts talking business. Will said that was all the more reason to go. It’d be a learning opportunity and feel much more natural.
Maybe I would have fought him harder on it if he hadn’t dangled those tickets in front of me. Everyone in my house knows how badly I wanted to see Elvis perform. 
I didn’t think this through. His performance was as captivating as I thought it’d be, which is a bad thing. There is no way I can go backstage and ask him to record a song with me. I know that his manager is expecting something, but I don’t think they’re picturing me. There’s a good chance that I won’t even get backstage--I look like most of the other girls here. 
“Y/n, you alright?” I can feel Maisie’s cool fingers on my forearm. “He’s definitely back there, and I think you should hurry before you miss him.” 
I’m frozen, not even my best friend’s voice is enough to snap me out of this. “I can’t.” 
“What do you mean you can’t? He was amazing, and you saw the way the crowd reacted, he’s perfect for--” 
“I know, that’s exactly why I can’t.” She doesn’t release my arm. “He’s like a real famous person and I--I thought coming to the show would be fun, and it was, but now I can’t stop thinking about how good he was and--” 
Maisie’s walking forward, pulling on my arm as she moves. “I have never seen you scared to do anything.”
“Maisie,” I sigh, trying to resist her, “This is different. This isn’t some school presentation or even performance. It’s--ugh, it should have been Will. He’s the professional.”
She’s completely ignoring me. Maisie continues to walk, forcing me to take a few steps.  “You don’t need Will, you don’t need anyone. Now go back there and don’t take no for an answer.”
I start walking, but Maisie doesn’t release me. I guess it’s fair, a part of me still wants to escape. With each step towards the back of the venue, my stomach drops a little more.
Maisie’s confidence can’t be faked, because she’s not even bothered by the security guard that’s standing in front of the door that leads to the backstage area. She continues forward like the large man in black isn’t going to attempt to stop her. 
He does, of course, he’d be terrible at his job if he didn’t. Two young girls who just have to have a word with Elvis Presley after his show, that’s not suspicious at all. 
“Excuse me, ladies, you can’t come back here.” 
Even now, Maisie remains determined. “You should be expecting her.” 
The man looks me over with little reaction behind his eyes. “I’m here on Will Walters’ behalf.” 
He blinks at me. “You his daughter?” I shake my head, preparing to explain the situation. “Niece, then? Distant cousin?” 
“No, sir, I--” 
“Oh my,” a voice gasps, “Y/n  L/n.” A girl I’ve never met before with styled mousy brown hair. “I heard your radio interview the other day! And don’t even get me started on your song!” She turns towards the security guard before I can speak. “Let her in, David, and her friend, too.” 
Maisie squeezes my arm gently. The security guard, David, looks me and Maisie over again, and then he steps out of the way. Being recognized by someone because of my music has brought back some of my confidence. 
I approach the girl that waved me in. “Thank you for that.” Part of me wants to let her know how much she’s actually helped me, but that feels awkward, especially considering the way she’s looking at me. 
“Oh, don’t even think twice about it.” with a flick of her wrist, she dismisses it all. “If someone like me’s allowed by here, someone like you should be more than welcomed.” 
“Someone like you?”
She smiles politely, “I’m not anything special, I just follow the tour around. I’m dating someone in the band.” I nod, following her as she begins to walk. “My name’s Annette.” 
“Oh, I’m Y/n, but you already knew that.”
“And I’m Maisie.” 
“Well, nice to meet you both.” She pauses long enough to give me a chance to look around. For a private space, it’s surprisingly crowded. I guess that makes sense when you factor in how many people probably have to work on the show and how many have girlfriends and family members in the area or on tour with them. “Now, you must be here t--” 
Everything, including Annette’s voice, fades into the background. It all blurs into white noise that I don’t care to distinguish because now that I’m looking at him, everything else feels like it doesn’t matter. I thought most of his enthralling nature came from his stage presence, but now that he’s only feet away from me he’s just as attention drawing, and somehow even more attractive now that I can really see his facial features. 
Of course his presence would melt away the tiny bit of confidence of developed, reducing me into the fan girl that can’t help but squeal at his existence. I clamp my mouth shut to avoid falling prey to my destiny. Look away. Stop staring. I don’t seem to have enough self control because my gaze remains frozen. 
At least he hasn’t noticed...and he’s turning his head. Of course he’s turning his head, anyone could sense the kind of staring I’m subjecting him to. It’s only when our eyes meet that I find the strength to look away. But those few seconds of actual eye contact...I could write an entire song just about the blue of his irises and the chill that just ran through me. 
Maybe I’m not insane, maybe he has this kind of affect on everyone. Maisie moves to grab my forearm, which is a good indicator that she’s seen him to. “He’s over there,” she whispers. 
Okay, she sounds shocked and slightly in awe but nowhere near as mesmerized as I am--was, because I’ve snapped out of it, and I’m going to stay that way. I can’t imagine seeing Will again and telling him the reason I didn’t ask his question to Elvis is because he was cute I just couldn’t get the words out.
“Yeah,” I nod, dropping my head, “I see him.” 
Annette hums once. “Oh, that makes sense.” 
Heat runs through my body. “Oh, no--no, it’s not--” My stuttering isn’t convincing her, and it’s not like that’s unfair. “My manager actually set all this up--” 
She nods, “Go on up and talk to him. He’s real nice, not too egotistical like some of the other singers I’ve met.”
I can feel Annette’s warm eyes on me and Maisie’s still squeezing my forearm and everything feels like it’s rushing to my head. “Okay,” I say, making absolutely no effort to move. 
Maisie’s hold on me loosens. “Y’know, hon, to talk to him you’re gonna have to walk up to him.” 
Good point. I mean he’s just standing there, and the person he’s talking to is walking away. I pull my arm away from Maisie while rolling my eyes. “I would’ve never guessed.”
I start walking forward, forcing myself to take even breaths as I approach him. He turns to face me a little quicker than I expected him to. My mind goes blank, no coherent sentences forming in my mind. 
My mouth opens. “Hi.” Really? 
The corner of his mouth turns upwards, like he’s trying to keep something in. “Hello, Miss...” 
He’s offering me a space to provide my name, but before I can speak, a low sounding squeak interrupts us. 
“You’re her,” a soft voice gasps, “Oh, you’re as cute in person as you were in that magazine photo.” 
My smile feels awkward. The last thing I need right now is for Elvis to think I staged something to make myself look like a bigger deal than I am. Will has some connections and after my song took off, I did two interviews, both different magazine features. “Thank you, that’s kind of you to say.”
“I love your song,” she continues, her voice raising enough to catch the attention of others near us. “Is it true you wrote it yourself?”
I struggle to not fidget. “Yes, I--” 
“Aren’t you the July song girl?”
My posture straightens under the new scrutiny. “Yes, that’s my song--”
“Oh when is your album coming out?” 
My lips part, but I have no good way to answer that. “If everything goes well, soon--” After that, the voices of a cluster of strangers beat me out. 
“How’d you get your hair like that in your magazine shoot? I’ve been trying for days, but--”
“Do you dress yourself? I love the modern modest look with all that lace detailing, it’s--” 
“Are you and Elvis together? You’re both--” 
“Your makeup--”
“When’s your next song coming out?” 
I swallow. This is what rabbits must feel like when they’re trapped by predators. Where’s Maisie when I need her? She’s under no obligation to be polite to anyone and has more than made it clear that she has no problem telling people to give me some space.
“Hey,” the deepness of Elvis’s voice cuts through all the overlapping rambling with practically no effort, “Let’s give Miss July here some space.” 
He places a warm hand on my shoulder. I dig my nails into my palms to avoid melting. With all the confidence in the world, he guides me away from the semi circle that formed with no notice. Elvis keeps his hand where he first put it as he leads me down a narrow hall. I can’t see Maisie but I know I’ll never hear the end of this. 
Elvis stops in front of a wooden door and opens it casually. He leads me inside, lets go of my arm, and moves to sit on a stool in front of a lit vanity. It takes me a moment longer than it should to realize we must be in his dressing room. The reality of the situation crashes into me--Elvis Presley just walked me to his dressing room and closed the door behind him.
Okay, I’m being kind of ridiculous. He took me here to save me from having to answer a thousand questions. A thousand questions that people were asking me backstage at his concert. “I am so sorry Mr. Presley, I don’t even know what happened back there. I swear I--” 
“I’m just surprised someone managed to pull away that much attention from me.” The corner of his mouth tilts upwards again. Okay--he genuinely doesn’t seem mad. “No need to apologize for keeping me humble, but if you’d like to make it up to me, I’d appreciate it if you told me how you managed that, Miss July.”
His easy going words paired with that half smile of his are enough to almost make me forget why I’m here. Almost. “Well, I should probably start off by letting you know my name’s not July. It’s Y/n L/n.” His expression still hints at just barely being amused. “That girl was just referencing the title of a song I--” 
“So you’re a singer?” 
The assumption feels false coming from someone like him. I fold my hands in front of me. “Trying to be, at least.” 
“Considering the way people reacted out there, I’d say you’re doing a little more than just trying.” 
The implied compliment warms my chest, but I’m here on a mission. “I’ve only released the one song.” My hands unclasp, falling uneasily at my sides. “That’s actually part of the reason I’m here. Well, at least the reason I’m backstage here, I wanted to come see your show before I’d even really written anything.” Shaking my head briefly, I take a settling breath. “I’m rambling, sorry, everyone at home’s always calling me out for it.” I try to force a polite laugh, but I think it comes out as more of a sigh. “I um--there’s kind of a long story about my label and my manager that I should probably preface what I’m about to say with, but I know you’re a busy man, so I’m just going to say that my manager sent me here to ask if you’d be willing to record a song with me.” 
I feel myself deflate as the question comes out. My own words sound beyond childish and naive in my own ears. What could he possibly get from recording a song with me? One radio popular song is nothing compared to what he has. Even with all the controversy surrounding him, he can fill up any venue he books.
His silence forces me to hold my breath. “Like a duet?” 
“If you’d be willing, but I realize who you are and the kinds of things you’re working on and Will, my manager, just insisted I give it some kind of chance, so I did.” I nod awkwardly, taking a step back. “I won’t take up anymore of your time, Mr. Presley. Thank you.” 
My hand reaches for the door handle of the dressing room. This may be the most mortified I’ve ever felt. I’m never listening to Will again. From now on, business is business and performing is performing. He takes care of his end and I take care of mine.
“You gonna give me a chance to answer before runnin’ off on me?” His words come so suddenly I almost convince myself I imagined them. 
I release the door handle. “Does that mean...you’re considering something?”
Elvis pauses, studying my expression. “It means I’m considering considering something.” 
That’s more than I thought I’d get. “Really?” 
“Anyone that can cause such a stir up with a single song’s worth consideration, Miss July.” 
The fact that he called me that again makes something in my stomach flutter. “I really appreciate that, Mr. Presley.”
“If you wanna work together, you should get used to the idea of calling me by my first name.” 
The invitation is coy, edged by his sharp blue eyes and something else I can’t distinguish. “You’re right. Thank you, Elvis.” 
He smiles a little easier at that. “Now, I can’t promise anything, I’d need to talk to my manager and then depending on that he’d talk to yours and then they’d try to work out the legalities for both our sakes.” 
“I owe you a thank you regardless. Thank you for not laughin’ me off and thank you for pulling me outta there when I didn’t know what to say.”
Elvis’s expression isn’t easy to read. “Like I said, no need to thank me.” He hesitates before searching the vanity for a spare scrap of paper and writing utensil. He finds an old receipt and a pen after a minute. “Just leave your contact information and then your manager’s.” 
I barely manage to take the pen from him in order to give him what he needs. After that, I say a quick goodbye, not wanting to give him a chance to regret his actions, before leaving. 
I close the door behind me when I leave. There are a million things I should probably be thinking about, but the only thing on my mind is getting back to Maisie and telling her everything.
Narrator’s POV
The Colonel and Elvis were back at it again, discussing how to turn anything into ‘snow’ in order to move Elvis’s career even further forward. After all, his ability to keep his audience entertained isn’t enough to combat large scale public opinion or keep him out of jail.
Though their conversation veered away from long term strategy in favor of discussing new merchandise and tour opportunities. Elvis even managed to bring up that girl, the one with the soft appearance that seemed like a magnet to everyone in her presence. He mumbled her request to The Colonel, expecting it to get brushed off. 
It’s a shame in a sense, the girl, y/n, seemed as warm as the July from the title of her song. He liked the idea of having the excuse to reach out to her. He kept that receipt, tucked it into the pocket of his pants the second she left the dressing room. 
“The girl--is she the same one that had all those people after her?” Elvis nodded, unsure about his manager’s interest. “Her manager told me she was coming. He didn’t give me any specifics. I wonder if that was planned or if he wanted to leave it up to us.” 
Elvis sat up a little straighter. “Are you saying you think it’s a good idea?” 
Tom Parker shrugged. “You know music and I know snow, and with you, that girl could be turned into a blizzard while she fixes our problems.” 
“I’m not following.” 
“I saw her in the newspaper. She wears knee length skirts and she smiles when she’s supposed to smile. She’s what America wants to love, you are what they do love. Paired together, America feels like they can love you.” Elvis drew his eyebrows together, still confused. “She could be the treatment your image needs.” The colonel stopped, playing through ideas in his head. “I need to make a call and I need you to trust me.” 
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trudyhopehunter · 2 years
Denial ~ MCU Cast x Reader
A/n: Hi guys! Sorry I haven’t updated in a while, just got a little swamped and my motivation wasn’t helping much. 
I hope you all have been staying safe and taking care of yourselves! 
The format of writing I’ve used this time is a bit different, so let me know if it’s too confusing. The reader can be whatever age you want them to be. Not too much of a child though. 
Maybe 16+. You are one of the younger ones in the cast.
I’ve kept it gender-neutral so if you see that I’ve used any pronouns that says otherwise, please let me know. 
Requested by: @catsandbooksandsstuff
feedback is always appreciated! I hope this satisfies you! 
Send me asks if you just wanna chat and talk about stuff or ask me something other than fic requests. I’d love getting to know my readers.
Sorry for typos, I’ll proofread later. 
Words: 2k+ 
Warnings: offensive questions, creeps...swears? i don’t remember but let me know if there r more.
Also all scenarios here are complete fiction.
(disclaimer: any act of translation or plagiarism will not be tolerated. this oneshot is not available anywhere other than tumblr so if seen somewhere else, please do notify me)
You've been part of this wonderful family for more than a decade. And these people that you’ve worked with for so long mean the absolute world to you.
And even though you are one of the youngest there and everyone else were protective and whipped for you, you were just as protective about them, if not more.
Currently you were at home reading a novel that you finally got around to after putting it off for months when your phone dinged. (This was exactly why you couldn’t finish this book, you got distracted quite easily).
It was a message in the Avengers Group Chat. Evans had sent a link to a YouTube video titled,” Y/n being the protector of the MCU Cast”. He captioned the link saying’ Y/n/n, you are exposed’.
You huffed, typing a reply ‘I am not!!’.
Tom Hiddleston just sent laughing emojis saying,’ denial at it’s finest.’ You rolled your eyes as you saw the rest of the actors join in on teasing you before you clicked on the video to see what it had.
Clip 1:
It showed you at an award show which you realized was from Age of Ultron after a couple seconds.
You were posing to all the cameras when suddenly you look at someone who was later shown to be Lizzie with furrowed eyebrows, giving an interview. You soon make your way towards her and somehow managed to pull her away from that interviewer soon afterwards.
 The fans didn’t exactly know what had happened at that time but the fan who edited, captioned it saying 'Y/n was being protective over Elizabeth ' which transitioned into the interview clip right before you pull Lizzie away.
You remembered vividly what had transpired that night. You had just entered the carpet, eyes nearly blinded by all the flashes when you caught Lizzie looking around with an uneasy smile. You gave a quick smile to the photographers before making you way to her.
“Oh come on, don’t be shy. Marvel is filled with these godly men. You must have hots for one of them at least” you caught the interviewer prodding, a fake smile on her face as she tried to find some sort of gossip for her article.
Latching you arm around Lizzie’s you entered the camera frame, ”Hi!!” Lizzie seemed relieved as she returned a bright smile as you said your hi to the interviewer as well. After the greetings got over, you saw the interviewer trying to come back to her previous question so you interrupted her before she could,” There’s Scar and Robert! Come on, we are going to have a group photo.”
Lizzie nodded her head as she smiled a goodbye to the camera before leaving with you.
“God, you have no idea what you just saved me from” Lizzie sighed as she hung onto your arm, causing you to chuckle,” I think I can guess. I caught the last bit of the question.”
She could hear the slight frustration in your tone as she softly nudged you,” Don’t let her ruin your mood. Come on, let’s greet the others!”
Clip 2:
This was an interview for infinity wars with you, Chris Evans and Chris Hemsworth.
One particular question being the highlight of the video.
“So Chris Evans, heard you got a new girlfriend. Finally deciding to settle and set down roots?” the interviewer asked.
Before he could conjure up a reply you spoke,” Why? Are you envious?” you had a sly smirk on you face and the next second it was a zoomed in screenshot of Chris H covering his mouth trying not to laugh at your remark with the caption reading ‘Yas Queen’.
You laughed at the meme the fan had edited and took a screenshot of it to save and use it against him one day.
You had been paired with Chris Evans and Chris Hemsworth for that particular day.
You three had been giggling and joking around, frustrating the interviewers by dodging all their questions so as to not give away spoilers and potentially be fired by Marvel.
Y’all had even made a game out of it, trying to see who could hold out the longest without giving any sensible answer. So half the time whenever someone tried to pry something about the movie, you’d turn to each other and ask about each other’s personal life or act as if you don’t even know English.
Sometimes the interviewers were good sports and laughed at your antics, sometimes they’d sigh in defeat and leave.  
When that question had popped up, something just didn’t sit right with you. The tone used by the interviewer just screamed judgemental and that bothered you. And you felt Chris Evans was sometimes too nice and oblivious to it.
You were more than satisfied when that interviewer’s face turned red as a tomato before ending the interview. As the interviewer left both the Chris’s high fived you as they laughed about the scene that had transpired.
Clip 3:
The quality of the clip was quite low but you could make out your and Scarlett’s figure. You were holding her hand as you lead her to the stage while glaring at someone who was being escorted somewhere farther from you two by the security guards.
You scoffed as you remembered what this event was from, feeling frustrated all over again. It was at comic con for civil war. You and Scarlett had been standing near the stage, having finished your panel. Both of you were hungry so you had asked a volunteer if they would be kind enough to get them a few snacks who had excitedly agreed.
You would’ve gone yourself but the place was packed and you all had to leave soon so you were told to stay put by your managers and other crew members.
Lizzie and Tom Holland had gone to the washroom and all the others were standing around scattered.
Scarlett had dropped something and bent down to pick it up before continuing the conversation you two had going on.
But you eyes had caught a guy who seemed like a volunteer loitering around suspiciously which you soon realized was because he was creepily checking out Scarlett.
Scarlett didn’t seem to notice him but saw that you weren’t listening to her,” Hey Y/n/n? You alright?” she asked concerned. You snapped your eyes back at her as you smiled,” Uh yeah. I’m fine Scar. Just thirsty. I’m going to get some water from that dispenser. Would you like a glass as well?”
She smiled and nodded before finding a couple stray chairs for both of you to sit on.
You quickly made your way towards the dispenser near the guy and filled two glasses. As you passed him on your way back to your seat, you “tripped” and split both the glasses of water on him who shrieked in surprise as he had still been busy staring at the actress.
“Oh I am so sorry!” you exclaimed in fake surprise as he looked at you in annoyance,” You should probably get that changed before you catch a cold.” You gestured for two guards to come over ,” Would you please escort this gentleman to a washroom”.
They nodded as they took him away.
Scarlett who had been watching the entire thing came over to where you were standing, glaring holes at the guy. She had originally wanted to ask if you had been hurt but when she saw your expression she asked,” Di-Did you do that on purpose?”
You looked at her with a teasing smile as you shrugged your shoulders. She looked at you curiously,” Why?”
“Seriously?” Anthony asked as he walked over,” Did you really not notice that guy ogling at you like a creep?”
By the stunned look on her face, you knew she had remained oblivious.
Anthony continued as he patted your back,” I think Y/n did him easy. I was almost ready to get him kicked out of here.”
“I just couldn’t do nothing about him.” You sneered before you felt soft arms wrapping around you,” Thanks Y/n/n.” she whispered with a smile before slightly kissing your head.
“ Though next time I’d prefer you told me so I can give these people a piece of my mind too” she winked as she pulled away, you both going back towards the stage before you turned one last time glaring to see if he was out of your sights.
Clip 4:
It was the interview panel for Thor: Ragnarok and you were sitting beside Tom Hiddleston and Tessa Thompson.
“Hello, I’m Roger. This question is for Tom Hiddleston. I wanted to ask how you feel about playing such a deceitful character and why would you say yes to such a role? I feel like you might’ve inherited some of his characteristics after playing him for so long.”
You took over the mic before he could,” Damn, deceitful is quite a strong word. Honestly, I feel like its misused here since from what I’ve observed over the years, people seem to absolutely love Loki.”
You statement was soon backed up by a loud cheer from the crowd before you continued,” If anything, I think people love you more because of Loki, Tom.” You teased as he laughed.
After the excitement had gone down, he had answered the guy politely.
It had been a long day and that was the last panel of the day. All of you were ready to go back to the hotel and call it a day.
And thankfully there had been no irritating questions until then.
Tom seemed a bit startled even though he gave a polite smile as he searched for the right words. But you did not like one bit of how distastefully that question was asked. So you intervened.
You could tell by Tom’s expression that he was trying not to laugh out loud when you mentioned people loving Loki because he knew you were specifically referring to that part of the fanbase who thirsted over the God of Mischief.
You had shown him a few Reels and Memes on it just before this panel so both of you now had an inside joke on how the entire timing for it worked out.
Tom had honestly been quite flattered and shy by all the posts you had shown and you were having the time of your life.
Since then you have been spamming him with these posts whenever they pop up on your explore page.
Clip 5:
This was an interview during the promotions of Captain America: The Winter Soldier. It was you and Sebastian Stan.
You were playing a game of “surprise chits” where there was this jar filled with chits that held dares, fan questions and fan-made memes of you two.
What you two didn’t know was that they had also added a few hate tweets about both of you as funny surprise chits.
Sebastian took out a chit that was a hate tweet reading,” Sebastian Stan is not funny. His interviews are dull as potatoes. They only get attention because he hangs out with Anthony Mackie a lot who’s the only one carrying the entire thing.”  
“Well, they sure lack a sense of humour then” you sassed back, making Sebastian laugh before stealing a bit of your popcorn you had gotten as a dare to finish.
That interview was quite old and it had been the first one with only you and him. You remember how dejected he had looked at that tweet and couldn’t help but feel like you wanted to burrito wrap him in a fuzzy blanket.
The dares had all been fun and you had no idea hate tweets would be included. But making Seb laugh made you feel better and you two went to have ice cream after that so both of you didn’t remember the incident for long.
The video ended soon with a few montages of smaller clips and photos where you acted protective over your castmates.
‘Hm, seems I am aggressive when it comes to them huh..” but you’ll never admit it to them. They’ll never let you live it down.
Taglist: @mrsweasley06 @boba707 @calimoi @nevaehss-heaven @catsandbooksandsstuff @darlingangel-17 @magic-source  @heyarely16 @originaldragonalmondflap  @supercorpendgame100 @sleepyheadssss @sleutherclaw @deadrhee @graciecliffx @seggsyburrito @sweetlilbambi @bi-lmg
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aftgficrec · 8 months
what are your (new or old) fake dating andreil favs?
Love some fake dating!  Here’s a nice long list of previously recommended fics from which we’ve pulled some favourites, plus some new fics getting their first mention here.  Have a great time reading! - S
Also see …
long cute fake dating here
fake dating (K)andreil here
‘In My Defense, I Have None’ here (completed) (feat. fake dating Jean & Neil, leading to Andreil)
‘Let the bells ring on a fool’s holiday’, ‘I Found Love Where It Wasn’t Supposed to Be’ and ‘For He’s a Jolly Good Felon’ here
‘You've Begun to Feel Like Home’ here
‘Fake It ��Til You Make It’ here
‘Married to the Game’ here
‘At The Prince's Behest’ here
‘Bittersweet & Sugar Free’ here
‘Friday Night Big Screen’ here
‘Wanted: Random Guy’ here
‘For Better or For Worse’ here
‘Heaven We're Already Here’ here
‘Chemistry Experiments’ here
‘The Bodyguard’ here
‘Like A River’ here
‘I'll Follow You (into the light)’ here
‘If it puts food on the table then so be it.’ here
‘stone heart (broken open)’ here
New recs:
A Thousand For a Kiss & Fifty Cents For Your Soul by NikNak22 [Rated M, 11619 words, incomplete, last updated July 2022]
Neil Josten and Andrew Minyard, two movie stars in their own right, have never had the pleasure of working together - and neither is sure if this is a good or a bad thing. But when Kevin Day comes calling, providing a unique opportunity, they both jump at it. Cautiously, they begin filming together for the first time on set, both slow to trust and quick to deny the spark burning between them.
But as time goes on, neither can continue pretending that what they feel is an act. That they're merely playing a part. Not when they've both been given a glimpse of what can happen when you overcome the fear of being known and finally let someone else in.
tw: panic attacks, tw: homophobia
racing hearts by josten_minyard [Rated T, 3486 words, complete, Aftg Summer Exchange 2022]
Andrew asks Neil to go on a date - only, it's a fake date, to enter a running competition (couples only) for a chance to win the golden prize of a month of free ice cream. Still, Neil will take what he can get.
Now, if only he could get his stupid feelings under control.
Fire and Ice by alexis_needs_sleep [Not Rated, 26400 words, complete, 2022]
Andrew was Neil’s best friend in the whole world. When his usual friend-date canceled on him, he knew Andrew would be the perfect person to keep him company at his track team's banquet. What started as one friend-date spiraled into several dates and an entire fake relationship, which Neil was 100% sure was the most convincing fake relationship that ever existed. All he had to do was not tell Andrew that he was actually in love with him the whole time. Easy enough, right?
Just for Show by butitknewme [Rated T, 1294 words, incomplete, last updated June 2022]
alison turned abruptly towards andrew from her perch on a stool, and asked suddenly: “is it true you’re dating neil?”
neil was, in that moment, infinitely grateful for andrew’s persistent poker face and their friends’ collective inability to see past it. to neil, he saw the slow blink, the register of surprise, the flick of his eyes toward neil’s. to alison, all she saw was unshakeable apathy.
though the answer shouldn’t have come as a surprise (neil knows how much andrew loves to create chaos, and how unwilling he would be to throw neil under the bus), the easy response still sent a jolt down neil’s spine. it must be because it's the first time he’s heard andrew lie.
masking his own surprise, he turned to nicky and alison, hands spread before him. “see? i can’t believe you guys thought i was lying.”
or the one in which neil josten fake dates his best friend andrew minyard... and it goes about as well as you would expect.
Old(ish) faves:
Read between the lines series by butallmystars [Rate E/T, 39169 words, complete, 2022]
Part 1:  Read between the lines (E, 32722 words)
In which Neil has a work conference across the globe and Andrew is not above lying to corporate for a week in Italy with his best friend.
Part 2: I wasn't pretending (T, 6447 words)
Read between the lines chapter five from Neil’s point of view. Radio silence, the gala & drunk texting.
A Book for Christmas by CurvedYellowFruit [Rated T, 13736 words, complete, 2021]
Andrew joins an online book club to stave off boredom. None of the other book club members have any opinions worth engaging with, but one person is particularly infuriating. Andrew decides he hates Smart_Alec10 - right up until he suddenly doesn’t. Cue adoptive-parent Nicky pestering Andrew about Christmas dinner, and you have a recipe for fake dating and a trope-filled Christmas.
dating & other disasters by lolainslackss, moonix [Rated T, 51086 words, complete, 2019]
Andrew thought it couldn't get any worse than having to watch Neil go on disastrous date after disastrous date with other people. Until Neil had the bright idea that they should fake date to mess with their friends.
tw: alcohol
Nine Weddings and No Funerals by gluupor [Rated T, 28578 words, complete, 2019]
Neil's just been unceremoniously dumped by his longtime boyfriend before a busy wedding season where it seems like everyone he knows is tying the knot. Desperate not to look like a pathetic loser in front of his ex, he goes along with a plan to bring along a fake boyfriend to the weddings. Since neither Neil nor his date Andrew are interested in pursuing a relationship, there's no chance that anyone's feelings will be hurt.
tw: acephobia
The Bokeh Effect by fuzzballsheltiepants [Rated T, 13239 words, complete, 2019]
Neil is struggling as a freelance photographer when the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself. Unfortunately, a casual lie told during his initial interview leaves him scrambling to find a "partner" ASAP. His best option? His ex-best friend/ex-roommate, who ghosted him the day after graduation.
Neil is in some serious trouble.
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bizarrequazar · 6 months
GJ and ZZH Updates — September 25-October 1
<<< previous week || all posts || following week >>>
This is part of a weekly series collecting updates from and relating to Gong Jun and Zhang Zhehan.
This post is not wholly comprehensive and is intended as an overview, links provided lead to further details. Dates are in accordance with China Standard Time, the organization is chronological. My own biases on some things are reflected here. Anything I include that is not concretely known is indicated as such, and you’re welcome to do your own research and draw your own conclusions as you see fit. Please let me know if you have any questions, comments, concerns, or additions. :)
[Glossary of names and terms] [Masterlist of my posts about the situation with Zhang Zhehan]
09-25 → Gong Jun posted a douyin of himself. Caption: “Shock! It turned out to be...”
09-26 → Kangshifu posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.
→ ELLE magazine posted a trailer for the short film Guardian of Alpine Plants. The caption included, “Gong Jun said: ‘I also feel that the things I love will not be consumed in the process of working hard for them. There will always be problems and even burnout in the process of climbing, but I always feel that there are more areas worth exploring.’ This day is different from every day in the city, Gong Jun described it as feeling like entering another world.”
→ Zhang Zhehan requested to dissolve a company he established in 2019. In the paperwork, it is listed that the company is not under investigation, owed any debts, involved in any lawsuits, or listed as a bad creditor, and it is up to date on its taxes. This is the first news we’ve had about him himself since January!
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This directly contradicts Xie Yihua and co.’s claims that Zhang Zhehan’s name is not in the brand’s paperwork because his assets have been frozen, that he is not psychologically able to handle his own business affairs, and/or that he has signed over power of attorney to Xie Yihua. Instagram believers responded by saying that this legal document publicly available on a government website with a signature that actually matches his is fake.
09-27 → ELLE magazine posted nine photos of Gong Jun from Guardian of Alpine Plants.
→ Kuaikan, ELLE magazine (English subbed), and the Shangri-La Alpine Botanical Garden all posted the full Guardian of Alpine Plants short film. Gong Jun’s studio reposted it from Kuaikan with the added caption: “Follow boss @ Gong Jun Simon into Shangri-La, listen to the stories of the guardians of alpine plants, and feel the charm of nature.” Gong Jun reposted it from the Botanical Garden’s account, with the added caption: “Walking in Shangri-La, we are amazed at the majesty of the mountains and the tenacity of the flowers and plants. On this beautiful planet, every tiny life deserves to be respected and guarded.”
This was filmed in early to mid-June in Shangri-La, northeastern Yunnan. It was publicly displayed on a large 3D screen outside the Wuhan Sanlian bookstore, and is scheduled to continue to do so until 10-07.
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→ ELLE posted an article to their WeChat about the short film. [translation]
09-28 → The Shangri-La Alpine Botanical Garden made a post expressing surprise and thanks for the surge in public support garnered from the short film.
→ Kangshifu posted an illustrated ad featuring Gong Jun.
→ Gong Jun posted a promotional video for Downy to his Xiao Hong Shu.
09-29 → Colgate posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.
→ The Instagram posted 10 wildly different photos of “Zhang Zhehan”, several of which include a kitten that we can only hope will be treated better than Kele.
→ The NRTA posted a list of movies and shows that showcare Chinese core values and the “China dream”, which included Gong Jun’s drama The Flaming Heart.
→ Kangshifu posted an illustrated ad featuring Gong Jun.
→ Gong Jun’s studio posted his schedule for October: only drama filming, no public schedule. Caption: “📣Boss @ Gong Jun Simon's October schedule is here! The small studio wishes everyone a happy National Day in advance and a happy holiday~” BGM is eight by IU (feat. Suga) (check the lyrics). [background about the song] Fan Observation: 18:00 timestamp; 10-18 was the date of Zhang Zhehan’s 2020 I Met Me mini-concert, a name that referenced the origin of soulmates from Plato’s Symposium. On 2020-09-29, Gong Jun posted a douyin of his reflection in a mirror with Making a Lover by SS501 as the BGM. [full candy breakdown]
→ Gong Jun’s studio posted the two photos used in the schedule. Caption: “It’s here it’s here”
09-30 → Gong Jun reposted a post by CCTV for Martyrs’ Day with the added caption, “Deeply remembered! Salute to the people's heroes!” His studio did the same, caption: “Don't forget the legacy of the martyrs and pay tribute to the people's heroes!”
→ Kangshifu posted three illustrated ads featuring Gong Jun.
→ 361° posted two photo ads featuring Gong Jun.
10-01 (China National Day, start of Golden Week) → Just after midnight, Gong Jun reposted a post by CCTV for National Day with the added caption, “I wish my dear motherland prosperity ♥” His studio did the same, caption, “The country is peaceful and the people are safe, China is splendid! Celebrate the 73rd anniversary of the founding of New China!“
→ Also just after midnight, the Instagram posted two photos of “Zhang Zhehan” with white hair and a photo of a windmill. Fan Observations: -  The white hair is possibly meant to shade the 3D artist YDS, who has art of Zhang Zhehan with white hair as her pfp and has done other such art. Back in the spring, YDS was approached by Sophie and co. who tried to coerce her into helping them, and she has subsequently been repeatedly attacked by them for refusing. The day before this, she posted two new pictures inspired by Zhang Zhehan’s song When The Glaciers Disappear and admonished Xie Yihua and co. for capitalizing off the song without his permission. Update 10-04: YDS was accused by solos masquerading as CPFs to be involved in the making of the Instagram photos.  -  The windmill looks very similar to the one in the pfp used by 不想匿名, a Zhihu account that some CPFs think might be Zhang Zhehan and/or Gong Jun (it’s the account that posted the frog picture at the end of July). The presumption is that the Instagram is trying to discredit this account.
→ 361° posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.
→ Hsu Fu Chi posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.
→ Kangshifu posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.
→ The brand’s Weibo supertopic was deleted and its “ootd” tag was wiped citing “relevant laws, regulations and policies”. [screenshots] Update 10-04: The supertopic returned but is unavailable.
Additional Reading: → Flora’s daily fan news thread → Douyin recently added a reporting option for video fraud specifically aimed at combatting deepfakes, as they are illegal in China under image use laws. Zhang Sanjian videos, including the 07-17 “fanmeet” videos, have been removed without fail when they’re reported for this.
<<< previous week || all posts || following week >>>
This post was last edited 2022-10-04.
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meltwonu · 1 year
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24. “Behave.”
25. “What did you just say?”
41. “You make a sound and its game over.”
notes; actor!chan, actress!reader, dom!chan, fingering, loads ‘o teasing! WELCOME TO THE NEW DRABBLE CYCLE!! ����🥂 This time we will be exploring the world of actors, idols, and everything in between~ heheh~ 😈 🤭  Also happy late lunar new year~! 🎊🎉 I hope y’all had a good one! I spent it… well, if you saw my work update you know how i spent it LOL ROugh but y’kno HAHAH 😭😮‍💨 Very excited for this cycle, I've got some ideas up my sleeve so 😵‍💫 very excited to hash them out~ Thank you for your patience as always as I struggle to get on my feet 😭✨💕 And thank you for requesting! Enjoy 💕
*queued post.
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“What did you just say?”
Chan rolls his eyes, script in hand as he sighs. “I said, we should practice.”
“Practice… The sex scene?” You raise a brow at him - your own copy of the script clutched tightly in your hands. “W–why would we need to do that?”
Your cheeks are warm as he laughs and advances towards you, walking you backwards until the back of your calves hit the sofa.
You and Chan were both cast as lovers in an upcoming film and the two of you had taken the time to rehearse some of the scenes together to make it seem more believable on screen. 
And while the chemistry had definitely been there - you were definitely shy when it came to being around Chan who had more experience with faking it on screen.
“I checked out your previous roles, you don’t seem to have much experience with it.” 
He chuckles softly when he sees the look on your face, “Not that it’s a bad thing. But if we’re going to be pretending, don’t you think we should practice? We have to make it believable, right? We’re supposed to be lovers.”
“Y–yeah, I–I suppose so but how–”
He reaches a hand out and pushes you gently; a soft gasp escaping your lips as you stumble backwards and find yourself lying against the sofa cushions.
“Mm, in the scene, I’m supposed to be upset with you after you don’t show up for our date. Let’s start there.”
Chan smirks and eases himself over you; his knee between your parted legs as you hold your breath.
“‘You know I waited for you all night, baby? Why didn’t you show up for our date?’”
He waits a moment, urging you to say your line as your head becomes scrambled with each second that passes with him hovering above you.
“A–ah… ‘M–my boss asked me to stay later at work, so I–I couldn’t say no…’”
Chan shoots you a praising look before he continues - his hands dancing all across your clothed torso as you let out a small whimper.
“‘You know how jealous I get, baby… I don’t want you to forget me, y’know? You’re always doing overtime at work lately and spending less time with me.’”
Gulping, you reach a shaky arm out, placing it on his own forearm as you guide his hand between your legs.
“‘I–a-ah, I could never… I’m sorry, how can I make it u-up to y-you?’”
Your body heats up when you feel his fingertips flexing between your shaky thighs; stuttered breaths on your lips at the feeling of him inching closer and closer to where you wanted him.
You’d obviously been intimate with lovers before and had one or two sex scenes in movies, but something about the way Chan looked at you made it feel real and made your panties wet just thinking about him and his fingers knuckle deep inside of you.
Up until you remembering the scene would be fake and all camera angles.
“Wait–Chan, we–we’re just practicing the scene so…”
He chuckles under his breath and moves away only slightly - licking his lips as he watches your expressions.
“Ah, you’re right… Silly me, I forgot. I was about to… Ah, well.”
Chan’s about to move away when your grip on his arm tightens.
“I-I mean... We should m-maybe practice the c-camera angles...”
He smirks, shaking off your hand as he drags your skirt up far enough until it starts to bunch up around your waist.
“You’re right... We have to be sure it looks real from any angle, right?” 
You hold your breath as he gently drags his fingers up and down your clothed mound - legs already trembling from his teasing touch. 
“If the camera is filming from the side, you’ll have to make sure your legs are spread nice and wide... And pull them up closer to your chest too~ It’ll make it easier for your legs to cover my hand.”
Nodding, you do as you’re told as a rush of wetness soaks into your panties. 
“W–what if the camera, m–mmh, is f-filming from above...?”
“Then I’ll just have to bring my hand down further... Like this~”
You let out a whimper as Chan’s hand moves downward; teasing you through your wet panties as he pokes and prods until he finally moves your panties to the side to touch you properly.
“O–oh, Chan, I–”
“Behave.” He grits out, “Our managers are in the waiting room next to us, remember?”
“W–we can just s-say it was p-part of, ngh, rehearsals...”
Chan throws his head back laughing as he slowly runs his fingertips through your wetness - collecting it on his fingers before he positions his middle finger at your entrance. 
“Your moans and whines as part of us rehearsing?” 
You swivel your hips, trying to get him to give you what you wanted. 
“B–believable, right?” 
A clipped moan rolls off of your tongue just as Chan’s middle finger starts to inch into your wet cunt - his thumb simultaneously on your clit as your walls tighten around the digit on instinct.
“Sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t think they’ll believe that if you start getting too loud once I get you to cum on my fingers. And the second you get a taste of my cock, they’ll come running in here.” He grins, “You make a sound and it’s game over, okay~? Let’s keep this rehearsal going as long as we can~”
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gogotti · 4 months
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@hamburgerslippers I am so sorry this has taken this long but I’m getting my ass beat by writers block 🥲🥲
I thought that instead of stressing about it and not finishing it, I’ll post a snippet of it as an update. Please keep in mind that this isn't the finished product and I promise that it will be perfect when I actually get it done.
Marcus rushed down the hackerspace stairs, excited energy following him as he practically bounced to Wrench’s workbench. He stopped in front of the picture of Naomi and plucked it off the wall, Wrench quickly grabbed it back from him and held it close to his chest. His display turned to question marks, and behind the mask, he squinted at Marcus.
“What’s up with you?”
Marcus smiled, leaning against the counter and speaking “Wow, I can't believe that you don't know what time it is.” He shook his head with fake disapproval. Wrench tilted his head, then suddenly he realized. His display turned to exclamation points before he placed the photo down and ran up the hackerspace stairs, almost knocking a pile of posters from Sitara’s hands.
“Uh, Excuse you?” She laughed, looking over at Marcus confused before placing the posters on the table. “Some friends of ours are free today, we promised to pick them both up after work.”
“Oh, okay.” Sitara smiled and she pushed/patted Marcus on the shoulder and toward the door. “Have fun and don't do anything I wouldn't do.”
Marcus laughed as he made his way to the door, saying a quick “Like what, actually go on a date?” Sitara stood still, an insulted look slowly coming to her face. She was prepared with a comeback but Josh stepped in, saying a quick “She actually went on a date the other day but you and Wrench were too busy binging Jimmy Siska movies to notice. Again.”, before continuing a pet project he was working on.
Sitara attempted to push Marcus up the stairs, hoping that she could get rid of him before he started asking more questions, but he stood immobile, his mouth falling open in surprise. “Oh, so you got you a little boo-thing now and think that you can't tell us?”
She was still trying to push Marcus out and through labored breaths let out an, “Yeah yeah, don't you have a date to get to?”
“Nah, don't try changing the subject. Josh!”
Josh didn't raise his head at his name, instead, he responded with a quick, “I already have details on the person, don't worry.” Sitara stopped, staring at Josh from across the room, allowing Marcus to sneak up the stairs and out of the hackerspace. “You have WHAT, Josh?!”
Marcus slid into the passenger seat and put his seatbelt on, Wrench didn't hesitate to take off, his mask showing his angry slashes. “Dude. You’re so lucky Naomi texted me that they were being held back by their boss, otherwise, we would be late. What took you so long?”
Marcus tilted his head in Wrench’s general direction as he sent the “omw!” text and spoke. “Did you know that Sitara has a little thing going on with some stranger?” He turned his head toward Wrench after clicking send. Wrench sat up straight, “Hm. They won't be a stranger for long. After this, we should totally find out everything about her secret lover.” Marcus hummed, “Josh already knows everything, and you know how thorough he is.” Wrench slowly nodded in agreement and the car ride went silent for the remainder of the ride, both men thinking about their respective crushes.
When they arrived, you and Naomi hurried into the back seats, smiling and greeting the men. When you both settled in Wrench pulled off heading in a direction that only he knew. Naomi leaned back into her seat, letting out a large, comical, breath of air. You laugh, and let out a soft, “You’re telling me.” in agreement. Marcus looked behind him and squinted at her and she responded with a sweet smile. Naomi shifted in her seat as Wrench pulled turned a corner, saying “We had a pretty rough day today. Really, really busy.”
You nod in agreement, “We seemed to get a bunch of rude first timers. Some prissy office workers who are probably too stressed to even realize it.”
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frankenhookersmonster · 7 months
stop making sense - chapter one, “shot in the dark”
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warnings - 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (no smut here but this series + my blog are 18+ so minors kindly leave xx), eddie munson x afab!fem!reader, slowburn, fake dating!, kind of enemies to lovers!, catcalling, jason being gross, eddie being a reckless driver, mention of drug use
word count - 1.9k
series masterlist - main masterlist
got something to say? a request or concept? speak!!!
i have a twitter now! follow it for fic updates and sneak peaks
a/n - very excited about this series :) reblogs are highly appreciated! add yourself to my taglist!
It was the third time this week Jason made a comment when you walked by. He’s always propped up against his car, surrounded by guys who all look identical: same beady eyes, same stupid swoopy hair. They’d all stare as you walked to your car, almost like they were waiting for you to leave your last class. They’d perk up, snicker to each other as Jason would straighten himself out and clear his throat. “Y/n! When are you gonna let me take you out?” 
You completely ignored him, not really sure what reaction he was looking for. Maybe he thought it was romantic, some story to annoy your future children with about how he won you over after consistent pestering. All it was doing was grossing you out, giving you something to talk to Robin about. 
You continued on to your car, already seeing tufts of red hair and dark earthy clothes, not dissimilar to your own, hovering by the passenger side door. Jason persisted though, turning himself to face you fully. “Just give me a smile and I’ll leave you alone, sweetheart.” His voice was almost sing-songy, rhythmic, and his words made the group beside him erupt in laughter and words of encouragement. He was lying, even if you did smile he wouldn’t stop bothering you, both of you knew that. You thought you would be embarrassed, all of your peers heading home for the day just to catch Jason Carver attempt - and fail - to woo you. In reality, you were embarrassed for him. 
It wasn’t a secret that he and Chrissy Cuningham had broken up. Though the two of them kept everything relatively private for a while, they just so happened to be the most well known people at Hawkins High School, so rumors spread. The most popular one was that Chrissy wouldn’t put out and Jason dumped her, you didn’t necessarily believe it. Chrissy was a nice girl, you had known her since you were kids, small town and all. You weren’t friends by any means, but you would occasionally make friendly conversation if the situation led to it, sometimes you’d even pair up for group projects. You never understood what she saw in Jason, and when you’d happen to eavesdrop, it wasn’t often but her and her friends could be loud, she always seemed to complain about him. So you doubted he initiated their breakup, and the thought of him crying over a girl did make you smile. 
Jason was a dick, always had been and likely always would be. He was something out of a movie, a villain who thought he was a hero, and though some people treated him like royalty, most realized how strange he was.
You weren’t sure why he picked you to be his next target. You were pretty, but that’s about where the similarities ended with you and Chrissy or any of the other girls Jason had dated. More often than not they were cheerleaders, got good grades in all of their classes, popular with the student body and teachers, who came from neighborhoods where all of the houses looked exactly the same with yards with flowers that never seemed to not be fully in bloom, perfect girls to bring home to mom and dad. 
You didn’t necessarily think you were all of that, you weren’t a cheerleader, you didn’t have any interest in most of the extracurriculars your school had to offer. Your grades were decent, you certainly had the time on your hands to get your work done, and get it done well. Friends weren’t your strong suit, you had a handful of people you were friendly with but only confided in a number of them that you could count on your fingers. 
As far as suburbia goes, you had hardly even stepped foot in a neighborhood that had a picket fence. You lived your whole life in a trailer park, first one your mom shared with your grandparents and then, once she had gotten her footing in a job that underpaid her, a trailer for the two of you a couple hours away in Hawkins, Indiana. It wasn’t The Ritz, but it was good to you. 
As you made your way through the parking lot, the boy’s harassment got drowned out by tires screeching against the pavement and chatter from various sports teams heading to their respective fields. Your car was close, Max Mayfield finding you in the crowd and shining you a rare smile. Once you unlocked the door and you both made your way into your seats, she turned her music off. Usually you noticed she would just remove her headphones and drape them around her neck, the faint sounds of synths and vocals still ringing from them. Even then, there were some days she wouldn’t even take them off. In your car, though, she’d always take them all the way off and rest her walkman in her lap.
Your mom was the one that offered for you to start giving Max rides around. She had started taking the bus, but after seeing how early she’d have to get up to walk to the stop and how late she’d get home in the afternoon, your mother felt bad. Though you protested at first, she sweetened the deal with the promise of gas money. Max turned out to be a good kid, she acted a little bit older for her age, so much so that you would forget she wasn’t a friend to confide in and slip up about something mildly inappropriate. You liked your drives together, even if they were very long, and you could tell Max liked them too. 
“Did Jason give you a compelling enough case today? Ready to take him up on that date offer?” She was clearly joking, poking fun. She didn’t have a lot of people she got like this with, her mom worked a lot and all of her friends were fifteen year old boys, so not really the best company. You turned the keys in the ignition, immediately fumbling with the radio with a deep groan. “God, that dickhead’s gonna be the death of me.” Max giggled at your words as you settled on a song before quickly pulling out of the school parking lot.
“I don’t understand how he just doesn’t let up. Like, is he convinced that one day you’ll just change your mind and give him a big wet kiss?” The thought of locking lips with Jason Carver made you legitimately sick to your stomach. You mustered up a gag. “Just tell me something about your day that’ll distract me, please.” You watched Max tilt her head back from the corner of your eye, searching for something to say. “All of my classes were boring, Lucas is sick so I didn’t even get to see him today.” 
You both went quiet, you could feel her staring daggers into the side of your face. “How is Lucas?” Her eyebrows furrowed. “I just told you, I didn’t see him today.” You could almost hear her blink at you. “No- I mean, how is Lucas?” Max pressed herself into the seat, grumbling. 
The two of them had been pretty hot and cold, after a particularly bad day Max had told you all about it. It was clear to you that he was still into her, but she had gone through a lot over the past year and probably wasn’t ready for a relationship, as juvenile as it might be. Nonetheless, you liked to tease her. 
“I’m not talking about this.” Her face was in her hands, voice a little muffled. “I’m just messing with you. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” She shuffled in her seat, a hand fidgeting with the seat belt before she spoke again. “There’s nothing to talk about, I guess. But once there is, you'll be the first to know. In return, I expect every detail about you and Jason’s passionate love affair.” You reached a hand over to smack Max’s shoulder. 
“Not funny, Maxine. The thought of him is making me nauseous, do you want me to throw up and drive us off the road?” She continued to laugh, and though you agreed that Jason going after you might be entertaining from afar, being involved in his little game was anything but. His comments, though initially made you angry, made you feel dirty. He probably thought they were harmless, but when you were alone in bed late at night, lights off and curled up in blankets, his words, his voice, they rattled around in your head. You tried not to let things get to you, but how could you not let this creep up and make your chest heavy? You wanted to stay strong, make it seem like it didn’t faze you, especially in front of Max, but it did. 
“He’ll get bored sooner or later, or maybe he’ll get back together with Chrissy.” You nodded at her words, realizing how reassuring she can be. You paused at the light only for a moment before it went green again. 
You hit the brakes fast, though, because to your left a van flew by and turned down the road you were headed. Your arm flew to Max, stopping her from moving too far in her seat. “You alright?” You asked, a little out of breath and adrenaline running. She nodded, loosening her grip on the side door handle. You both watched the van bump down your road, headed into the trailer park. “Fuckin’ Munson.”
You met Eddie Munson when you were ten. He was a little bit older than you, swore like a sailor, and claimed he knew how to drive. He moved into his uncle’s trailer, the one diagonally across from yours, though despite this you hardly interacted. He was always up to something, lighting firecrackers outside of people’s windows, playing his music so loud in the middle of the night that all the dogs in a hundred mile radius bark for what seems like hours. Your mom always told you to stay away from him, that he was just trouble. So you’d watch him and his antics from your bedroom window, more fascinated than anything. That fascination slowly turned to annoyance, sometimes you just wanted to sleep and not hear Ozzy riffs mixed with dog whines. 
At school, Eddie was a smart ass. Always talking back to teachers and picking fights. He was in the right a lot of the time, and you had to admit that his quips could make you laugh. That didn’t mean it wasn’t obnoxious, coupled with the loud theatrics he’d display through the halls and in the cafeteria. 
His driving had always been bad, he drove too fast, swerved, and never paid attention to the road. This wasn’t the first time he had cut you off, it actually happened quite often. You never brought it up, never had the chance to since the times you’d interacted in the past few years was in the single digits. And as you and Max crawled up to your house, you both looked on as Eddie waltzed up to his house, nonchalantly. “He must almost hit a million people to not be fazed by that.” Max muttered, and though she was joking you could imagine Eddie nearly hitting every car he passes on the road.
You parked, waving Max goodbye as she gathered her stuff and trudged over to her front door. You pulled your bag out of the backseat and caught yourself looking over to the Munson trailer again. It looked as if no one was home, all the lights were still off even though you knew Eddie was inside. Your gazing didn’t last long, you were tired and your bed was calling, only for you to lie in it and think about that dickhead Jason Carver.
taglist - click here to be added!: @maresmiley @molllybc @jaidarei412 @theroyalbrownbarbie @flowerbox @cherryandsugar @joshkiszkal0ver @ezzynf @wheaty-melon @vyralew18 @theirkenfiles​ @myranda222 @mil0fl00d @rapnunster @dazedgxth​
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hdlynnslibrary · 1 year
The B-List
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Pairing: Dieter Bravo x fem!reader Warnings: SMUT, two chaotic switches, dry humping, protected sex, fingering (fem receiving), some oral sex (male receiving), semi-public sex in a closet, some praise kink, hint of a come kink, cursing, fake movie blood and gore described, **filming of a Cliff Beast's 6 character's fictional Death**, so much swearing, passing reference to early 2000s unhealthy social ideas about weight and thinness, brief reference to past substance use issues, references to stress and anxiety (career/work related), secondhand embarrassment, general talk about the Pandemic/quarantine measures, talk about being fired/furloughed due to COVID, reader is coded a millennial and is thus coded in that age range Words: 23K (no that isn't a typo) Tags: Romcom, Meta, adult/middle aged romance, very mild Enemies to Friends to Lovers trope, Humor, Movie and TV show references, Insomnia, Stage Names, Customer Service!Reader, B-List actor!Dieter Bravo, Dieter has Tritanopia (Blue-yellow color blindness), they both can be brats, movie references and also 1990s pop culture, sunshine x grump tropes, some easter eggs for a project by @princessbatears 👀
Special thank you to: @princessbatears @maybege @max--phillips and @shadesofshatteredblue for letting me yell at you all about this fic and for helping some many of the little delightful ideas that I had to include which just help give this fic that extra bit of depth <3
When you had been hired at the exclusive hotel tucked away in the countryside, you had considered it a boon. Your years of honing your customer service skills had finally landed you a rather cushy job. You were now part of a concierge team that catered to mainly the rich and famous.
That had been just three months before the world had shut down. It had all been total chaos.
The lead concierge, who had been with the company for thirty years, decided it was time they took their retirement. You couldn’t blame them for not wanting to deal with this shit. That had left you with a team of two, yourself and the concierge who had been there for two years, John.
As waves of cancellations came through as the lockdowns rolled over one country after another, you had tried not to worry about being laid-off… but it was hard not to. Every day there was little to no business coming in, there just weren’t people traveling at all. Be they rich, famous, or otherwise, no one was traveling and you knew it was a matter of time before the shit hit the fan for you financially.
So when John, newly appointed lead concierge, had called you into his office? You assumed the worst.
You, of course, did the only logical thing you could do in about ten seconds; text your bestie.
You: Guess who is getting fired/furloughed! 😬
Nat: Oh fuck! Im so sorry hon! D: Keep me updated, I can drop everything and get you some emergency wine or ice-cream or whatever you need <3
You: I’ll let you know how it goes, prob will need that wine… Going in! :{
Stuffing your phone into your pant’s back pocket you went in to meet your fate.
(Continued on AO3)
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nerdsbianhokie · 5 months
I am sorry I don't have a better prompt for you, but I loved your fic about Maya and Alex and Maggie. I wonder if you might consider giving us a little Halloween update on it. I would love to know how Alex is doing with her addiction, are they liking National City, where is Alex going to go with her career?
oh, this is a wonderful prompt
on AO3
Maggie opened the second bag of candy and tipped it into the large bowl, making sure it covered the mechanical hand inside that would eventually pop up and scare some kid.
The ‘Scare Free’ bowl was already outside and labeled so parents could guide younger kids to it.
Hand properly covered, she opened the door and set the bowl on the porch.
When she stepped back inside, Maya was bouncing down the stairs.
Her astronaut costume reflected in the light. She held her hands up in claws and roared through her T-Rex mask.
Maggie faked fearful surprise and turned to Alex as she walked out of her office.
"Be careful, there's a dino-naut in the house."
Maya turned and roared at her mother.
Alex just raised an eyebrow. "It's a good thing I know how to handle dino-nauts, then, isn't it?" 
She swooped Maya up into her arms for a few moments before setting her down.
Maggie knew just how much Alex was dreading the day she couldn't even lift Maya that much, but how glad she still could for the time.
"Are you ready to go?" Alex asked.
Maggie rolled her eyes. Since turning eight, Maya's attitude had gotten stronger.
She was going to be a terror as a pre-teen.
Alex tapped on the nose of the T-Rex mask.
"Be good, don't run off like you did last year."
"I won't. I promise."
"Won't be good, or won't run off?"
"Won't run off."
Alex laughed. "Good. Now…" she pulled her phone out. "I need some pictures before you go."
Maya turned and ran to Maggie. She grabbed Maggie's helmet and shoved it into her hands.
Maggie put it on, the world distorting around her through the round plastic.
"Alright, my dino-naut and my astro-saur, say cheese."
Alex took a few pictures, then the family filed out of the house.
In her scrubs, Alex probably looked like everybody else dressed up for the night.
If only.
They stopped at her car. Maggie pulled her helmet off.
Alex said goodnight to Maya, then sent her towards the neighbors before turning to Maggie.
"I'll see you in the morning," Alex said before softly kissing her. "Have fun tonight."
"You, too."
"We should. The kids are all dressing up and getting treats, and we're gunna get the older ones together for a movie night."
Maggie grinned. Working with the kids really fit Alex.
"Now," Alex continued, "I need to go before I'm late and you need to go before a certain astro-saur runs off."
"Excuse you, I'm the astro-saur, Maya is a dino-naut," Maggie corrected with fake indignation. She featured down to the dinosaur onesie she was wearing. "Is that not obvious?"
"Oh, I apologize."
They both laughed, then Alex pulled Maggie in for another kiss.
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
Maggie watched Alex slowly pull out of the driveway, then inch down the road as kids rushed in every direction in search of candy.
Then Maggie pulled her helmet on and joined an impatient Maya in the neighbor's yard.
I don't get too much into everything you asked, so here you go.
I do think Alex slipped once on her addiction, but with alcohol, not drugs. It wasn't long after starting her fellowship, possibly after a child she worked with died. It was small, and she went right to Maggie after.
Since, Alex is doing really well in her career, and is loving her fellowship (other than when she slipped). All of them are really enjoying National City.
Maya is doing great in school. Maggie's truck is really popular.
The year before this, for their first year in NC, Maya dressed as an old school ice cream truck driver... with a dinosaur mask
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cherrykindness · 2 years
let's make babies |
pairing: Harry Styles x Actress!Reader
summary: you and harry are doing a live on instagram, you've drunk a lot of wine and now the world knows that the future Mrs. Styles is ready to make babies.
warnings: mostly cute, but the title tells you what you need to know 🤪
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"What is your favorite song from the Fine Line album?" Y/N read aloud, twirling in her right hand the second glass of wine of the evening, the one already halfway through. "Adore You and Watermelon Sugar, of course."
Harry giggled, rolling his eyes upon hearing his fiancée's statement.
"Y/N will always choose Adore You because it was obviously written for her." He accused. "She wouldn't give that answer under different circumstances."
The comments climbed up the screen continuously, most fans gushing about how cute Harry Styles and YN/LN could be while the other part was concerned with wringing even more information out of the slightly inebriated couple who had decided to do a surprise live one early Sunday morning.
As expected after being away for some time to begin filming Don't Worry, Darling in Southern California, Harry enjoyed a lazy weekend in the house he shared with his fiancée and her pets. The days were filled with late naps and relentless Netflix marathons, sublime and ethereal evenings, marked mostly by unexpected declarations and rounds of sex that used to last until the beams of light were shyly coming through the linen curtains. They were not a monotonous couple, so this order could easily be changed.
"Watermelon Sugar is nothing more than about my love for watermelons, don't get too creative." Harry replied to a fan while sporting a corner smile, the message standing out among the rest for its dozens of emojis and large print, questioning the singer about erotic content behind the lyrics of his latest hit. "I really don't know what you guys are talking about."
Y/N laughed, shaking her head before leaning it against her fiancé's chest, propped up on the soft white pillows that were spread practically all over the bed. The air conditioner was on at a minimal temperature and a light rain whipped on the panes of glass camouflaged by the cream-colored curtain, that being the projection of Y/N's favorite nights.
"You can tell them, I'm not shy." She joked, nudging her fiancé's waist.
"You know what it was written about and who it was written for." Harry replied, raising one of his eyebrows. "That's what matters."
It went without saying that much of Harry's newest album, as well as some of his earlier work, had been done in exclusive dedication to his future wife. Y/N had been the muse for a vast repertoire of romantic songs, and even though the singer preferred to keep the story behind his more explicit compositions a "secret", the relationship the two had shared for more than three years was already solid and known enough for the media and fans to distinguish hidden messages in small details.
"It's a song about what usually comes before the act of making babies." Y/N laughed as he pointed at the display. "Honestly, you guys are impossible."
"No, we make babies every day." Harry joked, making a funny motion with his eyebrows. "I would spend my entire career writing just about that."
"Harry!" The actress exclaimed incredulously, slapping her fiancé weakly on the chest. "Children might be watching this."
"You don't want to have babies with me?" He asked falsely offended, accepting the cup that Y/N offered him. "Because I want some babies with you."
Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes as she watched the internet freak out at the dialogue that had suddenly emerged. Since the beginning of the quarantine, it was kind of inevitable that the couple of artists would not become the darlings of all social media; they were fervently active with photos, videos, and lives that depicted step by step daily life in isolation, gaining more and more followers and making the media more and more fascinated by the relationship they both shared.
The wedding was scheduled for the summer of next year and it was perhaps the most anticipated event in the tabloids. Bets about what the model of Y/N's dress would be and lists presuming who would be selected for the short list of guests stood out among countless news stories about the famous people influencing pop culture today.
The possible arrival of a Styles baby was an inevitable topic in interviews. Harry and Niall were the only members of the ex-boyband that had not become fathers yet, and because they had maintained a solid relationship and were seen as one of the most enviable couples during the last four years, Y/N and Harry had gotten used to all this openly asked questions. They didn't mind, they even had fun with the montages and all the anxiety that dominated the whole internet, often mentioning the fandoms' efforts to represent them as such "cool" parents in perfectly edited pictures.
"No, guys, I'm not pregnant." Y/N amusingly clarified the doubt of dozens of new comments. "Please don't believe so many controversial news stories that appear out there. I was on twitter last week and saw several people theorizing about a possible pregnancy, most of the arguments based on a website that used photos from the set of How to Get Away with Murder in the season where I was actually playing a pregnant woman as Laurel." She laughed. "It's so funny! I know you guys love to guess these things, but we won't hide something so special when it actually happen, I promise."
"Especially because Y/N can hide absolutely nothing from anyone." Harry accused, leaving his drink on the corner table before settling into a comfortable position for the two of them. "Anyone who's a Marvel fan knows that. That's one of her most characteristic quirks."
"They gave me a fake script for the last two movies." Y/N agreed, shaking his head. "For me and Tom."
"We agreed to keep the engagement a secret for a while. The plan was to travel to Holmes Chapel to break the news to my family in person, but guess who got a call at ten o'clock at night from an angry Anne because she learned of her son's engagement from an interview Y/N gave the next day?"
Y/N gave a guilty smile, winking gracefully at the camera. "It was all James' fault! I'm sure he already suspected something, those questions were very suspicious."
"Of course the questions were suspicious, babe. You literally said you had a secret that involved both of us but that you couldn't tell because it was important that our families knew first."
"I thought he would think about a pregnancy or something!" The actress defended herself, feeling very convincing in her intonation bordering on obviousness. "That's a mania I can't get rid of, it's in my genes."
"Did you all hear that? Further proof that you guys don't have to worry about guessing when Y/N's pregnancy will be, I'm sure our baby will make sure to tell you everything while still in the womb, mom's genes will make sure of that."
"You are so funny, Harry Styles." Y/N sarcastically stated, holding back a giggle as countless messages with laughing emojis were frantically up. "Yeah, I know I talk a lot and all, but you have annoying quirks too."
It was obvious that live would be news the next day. Although they were completely open about matters concerning their relationship, nothing seemed better than receiving so much exclusive information from a Harry and S/N drunk on expensive wine.
"You wake up in a bad mood and you're dangerously sexy, that should be illegal."
Harry laughed, holding his fiancée's waist a little tighter as he felt her tumble a little further to the side, getting closer and closer to the edge of the bed. Y/N was dangerously weak for drinks, and the singer knew that the actress' body was already near its limit.
"You're the only sexy person here, love." He declared with a corner smile, evidently finding the whole situation funny. "Do you want to go to sleep now?"
"No." Y/N shook her head. "Can we watch some movie? Can we watch Sweet Home?"
"Of course, love." He murmured, giving the woman a quick kiss on the forehead.
Even though Harry knew that his fiancée was unlikely to make it past the five-minute mark of the episode, he made sure to restart the korean series at exactly the scene where she had stopped, the first chapter still halfway through after Y/N realized that it would be impossible to watch such a macabre work without a drop of alcohol in her blood.
She had been so excited by the taste of Argentinian wine and the idea of updating her fans after a few weeks away, that she had forgotten the main purpose of the live. Harry and Y/N had been apart for a few days due to the new movie the Brit was shooting in North America, all happening in an unrestrictedly careful manner due to the restrictions caused by the pandemic.
He was slowly migrating towards acting and the future Mrs. Styles couldn't be prouder. Y/N had felt on cloud nine when Harry had given her the news of his upcoming job, but her only pronouncement on the subject had been a succinct post on instagram. Just a photo of the couple on a trip to Germany with a simple heart emoji didn't seem enough for the actress' exhibitionist soul, and coming to that conclusion was the main reason she decided to invite him, already relatively changed, for a live appearance. Y/N wanted to go on and on about how much she loved that man and work on that whole honeyed speech that would bring her (once again) the title of "cutest bride of all time," but of course Harry had to come home from his trip with his favorite red wine and poison her with those sweet caresses that took her out of orbit, turning the degree of alcohol content into the least of her problems.
"You're going to kiss Florence." Y/N exclaimed suddenly, as if only now realizing that her fiancé would share the screen with Florence Pugh, one of her closest friends in that industry. "Kiss on the mouth."
The MacBook was still open and hundreds of new comments were going up every second, but Harry didn't bother one bit to warn her about the possibility of her becoming a meme the next day. He was having too much fun with the situation to worry.
"Are you jealous?"
"Yes." She stated with a pout. "I am jealous, I just don't know if I'm more jealous of her or of you."
"But you kiss me every day, babe." Harry laughed. "And you've been kissing other people's men for almost ten years." He joked.
"But I only think about you, I already told you that."
Harry shook his head negatively at the camera, knowing he was sharing with the fans the funniest side of his fiancée.
"I know that, honey." He assured, lightly stroking the actress' back. "I think we'd better turn off the TV and go to sleep now, I'm sure you'll have a terrible headache tomorrow."
The brit planned to bid his audience goodbye and put an end to that recording, but Y/N was drunk and her sense of right and wrong had already gone to space. Harry should have been quicker, however, because his fiancée's speech would be cause for new tags and the only subject for the interviewers for at least the next few months.
"I don't want to sleep, how about we make babies?"
That's what Watermelon Sugar was all about, after all.
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theficblog · 7 months
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Prologue: How far will things go with this random guy you met online? It might not always be as simple.
Genre: Fluff + Social Media AU
Wordcount: 1,808
Warnings: Mild language
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It wasn't too long ago since you started stalking this one account, banana_brushes. All their feed ever had to offer was art, which was probably their own, and cats, which you assumed were also theirs. You were sure you had seen a hundred other profiles updating with the same thing, but this just felt different from day one.
You still consider yourself very lucky though, the astonishment on your face was very real the day the same user slid into your DMs. No, you never interacted with any of their posts so there was no chance of getting caught, all you ever did was simply view. 
"Hey there, I hope I'm not being annoying but would you let me know what medium did you use for the watery thing effect in your last post?" You thought it was a genuine query, which it was, making you leave an immediate reply.
"Thanks, I run an art account too, though."
It was from that very moment you started talking with this random guy online. In a week or more the talks matured from arts and cats to somewhat general ones, you see, how any two strangers would get to know each other.
The two of you now held deep conversations, as time passed. Even though it was only via typing on a social media platform. Maybe it was due to the fact that you knew things would always stay anonymous. There was an absolute zero possibility of seeing or meeting him in the flesh, your real identities would never be revealed, thus blessing you with the freedom to not hold back any opinions, or to spit out whatever the fuck your heart wanted you. You knew you could always block him or report him if things ever went south. To you, it was so much better than having to interact with real-life people. Yeah, call it living in a fake world or whatever, but at least this was something that made you feel at ease.
Your conversations with banana_brushes still continued as smoothly as a rom-com movie, and it was not until this fine evening that you started to see him in a different light.
Your attention was diverted to your notifications as soon as you came home from a trashy day of work, it was him again, and you didn't know for what reason in the heavens, it made you smile.
"Since I've never seen you, I drew what I think you would look like."
He captioned a picture with another one of his works, which he made keeping you in mind, making your lips curve themselves again. Just pondering over the thought that a person did put in some sort of effort while thinking of you was beyond precious, provided the fact that he was not "real". You never saw him, let alone meet him in the flesh. The art piece was phenomenal, as expected. He really knew his brushes. It was not like he traced an angel onto the canvas, it was what anyone would label as "ordinary" but maybe that was what made you resonate with it in a flash of a second.
"Hmm, well full marks for the effort, and that's actually quite pretty! thanks." You replied back without wasting a minute.
"And, I kind of think I look better than that." You teased him, and the text was sent along with a tongue-out winking emoji. 
"Oh! I would have no clue." He was still typing as you glued your eyeballs to the screen. "The only thing I have ever seen is your art."
With a raised eyebrow, you ran your fingers across your keypad. There was no way you were going to let this sassy stranger win. 
"The only thing I have ever seen is your cats". With this, you dropped your phone onto the bed. This was one of the many perks of talking to people online, disconnecting at any time you felt like.
The next morning was nothing special. The same cycle of waking up, getting ready, and leaving for work. There were times you really sat and pondered something interesting happening in your life, at least for once as you sipped on your coffee. Life was no better than the stagnant lake waters. 
The last time you remember having an adrenaline rush was probably the night before your job interview. It has been two years since then.
"No way in fucking hell!" You cursed under your breath, making sure you blinked a dozen times and pinching yourself. 
You took quick steps towards the table, grabbing the canvas in your hands. It was the same that the Instagram guy sent you last night. What on earth was it doing here at your office? Did he manage to track your address down? What if he were a creep? Oh, how could you ever be so stupid to forget the dark side of this alluring internet?
It also seemed like your morning wish had come true, for the adrenaline hormone kicked it, along with this strange feeling in your gut.
"Excuse me?" You heard a voice from behind, you turned back out of reflex, with a pale face and mouth hanging open.
The man looked at you with an uncomfortable stare, pointing to the article you held in your hands. "Ummm, that?" He questioned. Did it by any chance belong to him? For the sake of God, let it be his.
"Ten?" You asked in disbelief.
"You know me?" He inquired back, with a change of tone.
Of course, you knew him. Even though this was the first face-to-face interaction you both had had in the last two years, you were well aware of his presence.
"If I'm not wrong, you are Y/N? I think I've seen you at the cafeteria a few times, you're a part of the-"
"Wait, you have cats?" You cut his unnecessary words off.
He was taken aback, how did you come to know about his precious babies? Before he could comprehend, you thew another question on his way. "And since when do you draw?"  This guy was not understanding a thing, his face showed that he could not make out, as though you spoke Greek. 
There was no time to waste. You hurriedly rummaged through your tote bag, pulling out your phone. 
"User banana underscore brushes?" You flashed your Instagram screen right before his eyes, which kept on getting wider and wider.
"User i know my underscore brushes?"  He took a long breath, nodding his head. "That was you?" He reciprocated the same reactions you displayed about a minute ago.
"Now you know embarrassing things about me! Hold on you also know my life problems?! Please don't tell the boss I called him a dick the other day!" He blurted out in a single breath, eyes wandering from left to right at the speed of light, palming his face out of embarrassment.
But it was not only you that had this advantage, texts had always been mutual.
"Only if you don't tell him that it was me who changed the PPT link to that of Dora the Explorer last week, and also just ignore all the bitching I've ever done about this place." You declared, resting your hands on your hips. 
"What the fuck? That was you!?" He burst into a shrill laugh.
"Huh?" You exclaimed.
"I mean that was super fun, also, I won't tell anyone. Deal?" His offer only made sense.
"Deal!" You raised your hand up, earning a high-five from him.
Before you could go back and continue with your otherwise boring day, ten interrupted. "Y/N!" 
"You're good at drawing and stuff." This came out of nowhere, why was he trying to make it awkward?
"Thanks, you've told me that before, and so are you!" You shined a tooth-wide smile as you turned back again, signalling your leave.
"Do you have any pets?" He asked abruptly, as though he had been caught with a gun near a corpse.
"I already told you that I did not." You laughed awkwardly again.
"Then let's go get some coffee." Ten offered. 
"Right now?" This was not a confirmation from your side but a denial. You stood there as you looked at him with a confused face again. 
Confusion has reigned supreme in this scenario throughout.
He took out his phone with the Kuromi phone grip out of his back pocket, his fingers were running like crazy, and there were visible beads of sweat on his forehead. You thought he had just offered you coffee.
You too started to do the same, smartphones turned out to be lifesavers in awkward situations. 
The first thing you noticed was the unseen messages from Ten yesterday, you must have ignored them last night until it turned out they were not meant to be ignored.
Ten, on the other hand, buried his face in his palms, not having the courage to face you, he was too late, by now you had read it all.
"You what?" You questioned in disbelief. "Yo-you have a crush on me?"
He was ready with an explanation even before you finished. "I think it's a bit more than that now that I know who you are, Y/N." He expressed, his tone sincere, looking at you directly and making eye contact with you.
He shook his head. "I'm sorry Y/N I did not want to let you know like this, who confesses like this-"
He talked a lot, and you were cutting him off, a lot.
You took steps closer, inches away from his body, holding him by the shoulders, trying to lean closer.
"Are-are you going to kiss me now?" He stammered. 
"May I?" You asked.
Ten nodded before shutting his eyes. You did the same and brought yourself closer, his awkward hands held you by the waist. The touch was sweet, creating a tingling sensation in your body. No, this was not your first kiss, but it sure felt special.
It felt like the blow on a wound, comforting. It felt like a scratch on the neck, satisfying, and it felt like a glass of wine, soothing. 
You caressed his pink lips with your thumb as you pulled back. 
"Does this mean you like me back?" He asked with curious eyes and now you could clearly appreciate his cat-like features. Soft, yet sharp.
"I think it means that most of the time, so yeah." You said.
"Makes sense." Ten giggled, his sassy self seemed to have melted away with one kiss.
"Also" he continued "That painting stands nowhere in front of you, you're way prettier." He remarked with a subtle smile.
"No no please this doesn't suit you!" You hit his hand playfully before the laughter erupted between you two once again.
Finally, in the midst of a boring life, a bright spot.
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the cockles masterlist, part 3
split in six for link limit reasons
WARNING: this post glitches and crashes on mobile. it’s recommended you view this on your desktop, or at least on your mobile browser rather than the app. if my desktop theme is hard on your eyes, try an extension such as Just Read or Reader View to customize the layout and colors.
if you’re still having trouble viewing, or if you don’t want to have to switch between the five posts, here’s all of the links compiled into a google doc.
welcome to the cockles masterpost, a labor of love/insomniac hyperfixation.
i recently wrote this cockles manifesto, but after it got a lot of notes and i kept adding more links to it, i decided i should just go through my 8 years of archives and compile all the cockles posts in a much more accessible and navigable way. after everything with the series finale and destielgate, i figured we could use some happiness, and it turns out there are a lot of people who’ve never heard the cockles gospel.
important disclaimer: yes, i do think that jensen and misha have a private romantic/sexual relationship, but no i do not, in any way, think that they have ever cheated on their wives. we think they are polyamorous, which is a real and valid thing, and misha is openly poly. some people love more than one person, and that’s okay. their families are close and we love and support all of them.
second important disclaimer: despite the amount of innuendo below, this is not about fantasizing about two hot guys fucking. cockles is about the joy of witnessing two people who love each other and make each other happy and are disgustingly cute together. we’re not fetishizing, we’re just appreciating what they publicly share with us.
third important disclaimer: because some of y’all don’t know, the cardinal rule of cockles is that we don’t talk to cockles about cockles. DO NOT leave any comments on their social media accounts implying anything. not even green and blue hearts. they know that we know, but it’s on us not to make it weird. if we’re too obvious and say too much, they might start sharing less. don’t say anything.
NOTICE: if this list is too long or you don’t know where to start, i wrote a post that one might call an illustrated guide to cockles that breaks down many of the most important moments and what i think they mean.
for the sake of my sanity, these are in no particular order.
last updated: 12/13/22
🐚 denotes new content
part 1 (That’s Suspicious, mishananigans)
part 2 (#pray4jensen, gag reel hijinks, some posts i’ve written about cockles and rps)
part 4 (the glory of jibcon)
part 5 (just for cute)
part 6 (jibcon continued, just for cute continued)
know your cockles history:
The epic love story of Jensen Ackles and Misha Collins | that time misha accidentally (?) tweeted it out
that fucking tree | more gifs
the ten-year anniversary post
the matching bracelets/first ring jensen gave misha | more ring photos | better view of the bracelets/charm
different matching bracelets
another ring jensen gave misha | bonus | also: it’s a thing for queer people to wear their wedding rings on their right hand
matching necklaces jensen bought
the sunset photo | the jumping sunset photo | telling the story of the sunset photos
that time misha reenacted the fake orgasm scene from when harry met sally and jensen..... liked it | a lot | more gifs | callback years later: “if you could do any movie together, what would it be?” | ”i’ll have what he’s having”
misha’s boat trip photos | jensen’s boat trip photo | jared: “and they haven’t released the nudes!”
the boat trip story | jensen closeup | more on the boat trip...
“dmitri, bring it out”
alona tal: “have you ever kissed jensen?” misha: “umm...”
the story of jensen draping his whole body around misha while misha signed autographs + blurry photo
the valentine’s card | video | more gifs 🐚
jensen telling the story of how they met misha (for the hundredth time)
jensen talking about his first scene with misha
the story of the first time the went to dinner together (despite jensen otherwise insisting he can’t remember that far back)
jensen reminiscing about when they met
the mirroring compilation
the infamous reverse french mistake edit
jensen calling misha his ‘pebble’
the chest-to-chest selfie
that time they had a private mass at the vatican??
the family ice cream date
“hey big boy”
people’s choice award acceptance video (gifs)
selfie at the last spn sdcc panel
the time jensen pied misha to haze him when directing his first episode | more gifs | more gifs | jensen complaining that jared pied misha too roughly :(
the cat video dramatic reenactment | more
“would you just drink your fucking water and get off the stage?” | more gifs
the bridal carry photo op
clothes sharing compilation
“i couldn’t see you for a while. got a little nervous.” | more gifs
the temporary breakup speculation
detailed breakdown of events surrounding the potential breakup
misha gave jensen west’s old baby blanket for jj
west took his first steps in jensen’s garden
a collection of favorite cockles moments
some cute moments from the early years
YANA campaign videos: 1 2 3 4 | gifs
cas looked so happy because jensen was making misha laugh
“what were you born in a barn?”
“if your characters had dating profiles, what would they say?”
“i’m not normally one to talk about coworkers, but jensen just let me take this picture of him shirtless”
old interview moments
the time jensen jumped on misha’s back
“it feels like there’s this angel standing over me” | more gifs
the “are these engagement photos?” photo ops | close-ups
jensen looking heartbroken when fans said they didn’t want misha to come back to spn | further context
the mr. and mr. smith photo op
the time jensen walked into radio shack and found a portrait of his face done in skittles (because of misha)
the rugburn™ | the rugburn visible in 8x07
jensen made spn shut down filming because misha was too sick to go on
jensen getting in the question line to ask misha to do a dean impression
the already infamous anal sex fart joke
jensen’s more intimate photo op touches the weekend misha was mugged
last dead guy robe picture
jensen and misha's last on-set photo together
jen crashing misha’s panel with seb
jensen kissing misha just behind the green room door at jib3 2012
eyes like the sky beer
very early smiling at each other onstage
the cockles easter egg in the last of us 2 | full explanation | misha’s tweet  🐚
my alma tag
early years pictures and gifs
the head-leaning hospital photo
misha’s blanky
i’m one of the poor souls who didn’t know that jensen and misha lived together in a vancouver apartment from 2017-end of show | further details
jensen released the song “angeles” on september 18 2012, the fourth anniversary of cas’s first episode. lyrics include, “so glad to meet you, angeles.”
what “aloha, cowboy” actually means
danneel’s photo of jensen reading misha’s poetry book by a fire
my denvercon cockles tag, for everything cockles-related that happened on october 16, 2021, at the first in-person spn con since covid, the destiel confession, and the series finale.
video of misha crashing jensen’s denvercon panel
misha walking out to hug jensen from behind at denvercon | video
discussing how when they hugged, misha was surprised by jensen’s muscles and jensen was surprised by misha’s softness; “like an angel plushie”
the way jensen turns, leans back, and spreads his legs at denvercon | another angle
unicorn laugh at denvercon
leaving together at denvercon
jensen... had his car sent to misha’s house in washington?  
video of jensen draped over misha’s shoulder, discussing fanart they’d seen at the con and how they’d each defaced it. “you drew the black penis?” | gifs  
everything cockles that happened at nov 6-7 ‘21 charcon: “whatever you say, mish” and “i live it”  
“okay, babe.”
the “possessive” photo ops from nolacon ‘21 
the tender and loving way they hugged for photo ops in 2021 
sunrise photo shoot from dallascon ‘22
misha and jensen discussing how they’ve given up saying no to photo op requests
misha stating that jensen’s song ‘watching over me’ is about destiel 
everything from the njcon ‘22 cockles panel | complete panel video
“This guy is always partially-obstructing my view of sunsets” 2019 tweet 
misha telling the story (again) of how jensen made him break with kissy faces | talking about the face/doing the face jib2 & jib6 | imitating the kissy face | more imitating the face | jensen talking about the kissy face | it’s jensen’s favorite ‘prank’
cw upfronts misha Gazing at jensen photo | edit
jibcon12 misha/jensen panel transition hug | video | more gifs | photos | more photos | MORE photos
fighting over whose sunglasses they are | video
jensen: “and you looked AMAZING”
misha posing as audience member to ask, “do you usually at night watch misha collins videos with your wife?“ | jensen discussing the lazarus rising watch party: “had like a three-way... video conference”
@theyarebothgunshot‘s “and they were roommates” timeline of cockles cohabitation
the ew photoshoot of champagne + cheek kiss fame | outtake photos  
misha’s detour at ‘22 denvercon to hug jared and jensen | more gifs | mooore gifs | photos | video 
jenmisheel tag 
"[danneel] does refer to misha as her boyfriend. which is funny, because so do i." | video |
jensen serenading misha with "angeles" | video
the destiel song they improvised together | video |
2009 highlights
2010 highlights pt 1
2010 highlights pt 2
2010 highlights pt 3
2011 highlights pt 1
2011 highlights pt 2
2015 highlights
2016 highlights
2019 highlights
2021 highlights  
2022 highlights
the i n t i m a c y:
misha tenderly caressing jensen’s back (jibcon) | more
misha tenderly caressing jensen’s back (phxcon) | another angle | hd photos | yet another angle
jensen wrapping his arm around misha’s waist | followed by an ass slap | sharper gifs: x, x
hands on thighs
the neck kiss
whispering compilation
more whispering
jensen shoving misha face away | alternate angle  
hug + cheek kiss (ew photoshoot) (photo)
head boops
kisses compilation
jensen dropping his head to misha’s shoulder
slow dancing
touching compilation
beginning/ending of panel
heads on shoulders | video of jensen laying his head on misha’s shoulder  
the way they shake hands | bonus | a breakdown of a handshake
face stroking
more face stroking
comfortingly rubbing each other’s backs
a hug photo
the sdcc hug/head lean (gifs)
patting jensen’s head | more gifs
undercover hand lovemaking | another angle 🐚
jensen’s hand sliding down misha’s arm
eyes closed hugs
His. Hand. Was. Determined. To. Stay. On. That. Leg.  
excessive hand touching
how they hug
hugging/rubbing each other’s shoulders
hug compilation
jensen's hand sliding down misha's back  🐚
and lastly... please, nobody tweet this at misha (or any other cast member), but misha, if you do see this... please don’t tweet it either. thank you.
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toiletpotato · 4 months
hello fellow cinema appreciators. there's now a new york times article about Goncharov (1973). since they can be a bit temperamental regarding free articles, I'll paste the text below!
It Happened Online
The Fake Scorsese Film You Haven’t Seen. Or Have You?
Tumblr is obsessed with the mafia film “Goncharov.” The problem is it isn’t real.
By Madison Malone Kircher Nov. 22, 2022 Updated 2:13 p.m. ET
[A large image of the Goncharov poster]
"On Tumblr, users have created an entire universe to support the idea that “Goncharov” is real. An artist in Prague, Alex Korotchuk, created a realistic poster for the film. Credit...Alex Korotchuk"
Tumblr cinephiles have a new favorite movie this week. It’s decades old, so maybe you’ve already seen it. It is called “Goncharov” and stars Robert DeNiro in the titular role as a Russian hit man and former discothèque owner. It takes place in Naples, Italy. Cybill Shepherd plays his wife, Katya, and rounding out the cast are Al Pacino, Gene Hackman and Harvey Keitel.
The 1973 film, billed as “Martin Scorsese presents,” has everything: murder, a love triangle, homoerotic undertones, a striking original score and a dramatic final scene that film buffs have been debating for years.
There’s only one other thing to know about “Goncharov.” It does not exist.
The story of Tumblr’s beloved fake film began with a shoe. Several years ago, a Tumblr user posted a photo of a pair of “knockoff boots” they ordered online that arrived with a strange tag. “The greatest mafia movie ever made,” read the top line. “Martin Scorsese presents GONCHAROV.” “Domenico Proccacci production,” it continued. “A film by Matteo JWHJ0715.” “About the Naples Mafia,” read the final line. (The user’s Tumblr is no longer active and attempts to reach the user were unsuccessful.)
In August 2020, Aveline McEntire, a college student in Missouri, reblogged the image on her personal Tumblr after seeing it on a friend’s page.
Ms. McEntire added an additional image to her reblog, a screenshot of a comment from a third Tumblr user, reading, “this idiot hasn’t seen goncharov.” Ms. McEntire, 20, had not thought much about the post until recently when it suddenly started gaining popularity, with tens of thousands of people beginning to reblog it earlier in November.
As of Monday evening “Goncharov” was the No. 1 trending topic on the platform, with Mr. Scorsese taking the second spot. Pokémon was in third.
Even Tumblr has gotten in on the act. “Goncharov” was ahead of its time “and it’s contribution to cinema is remarkable,” the platform tweeted on Sunday from its official account. “Rarely does a film tell as many diverse-yet-interconnected stories. Hard to imagine so few ppl have seen it.”
On Tumblr, users have created an entire universe to support the idea that “Goncharov” is real. A poster for the film, riddled with bullet holes and crediting Matteo JWHJ0715 as the director of the “greatest mafia movie (n)ever made,” was created by Alex Korotchuk, a 20-year-old-artist in Prague, who said 50 people have placed orders to buy a print version of the poster. Alix Latta, a 25-year-old music teacher in Indiana, composed a theme song — a waltz inspired by the theme from “The Godfather.”
[A wonderful piece of fan art depicting Goncharov and Andrey kissing.]
"Elena Asofsky, 23, has been making fan art inspired by the imaginary movie, focusing on the alleged subtle sexual tension between Goncharov and Mr. Keitel’s character, Andrey “The Banker” Daddano.Credit...Elena Asofsky"
There are Tumblr posts full of lore about the film and vivid details about the plot, including stills and GIFs pulled from other films and TV shows being repurposed as scenes from “Goncharov.”
“It’s essentially a Russian gangster coming to Naples, and it’s a long story about his eventual downfall and betrayal by everyone in his life,” said Erika Paulson, 27. “To quote one of the posts that’s been going around, it’s him coming to Naples to try and escape his life of violence.”
A frequent Tumblr user, Mx. Paulson, who lives in Philadelphia, remembered seeing the “Goncharov” boots years ago and was excited to contribute to the story, posting several pictures of a cat, now known by some on Tumblr as Patchka, with the caption, “anyway i think we all know who the true best character in Goncharov (1973) is.” People have pointed out the cat could be another nod to “The Godfather,” but Mx. Paulson was inspired by street cats spotted on a trip to Rome. “What’s a gangster movie without a cat?”
Lynda Carter got in on it too on her Tumblr. The “Wonder Woman” star posted two black-and-white photos of herself and Henry Winkler captioned, “Me and ‘The Fonz’ at premiere of Goncharov (1973) at Grauman’s Chinese Theatre.” The image is actually a photo of the two actors at the 1977 Golden Globe Awards. A representative for the movie reviewing platform Letterboxd said it had removed multiple user reviews of the fake flick.
Elena Asofsky, 23, initially fell for the mythmaking. “I start asking my roommates. I’m like, ‘Hey, have you heard about this ‘Goncharov’ thing? What is this? Can we get in on it?’ And my roommate’s like, ‘I know, it’s fake. It’s all not real.’” Since then, Ms. Asofsky, a substitute teacher and illustrator in Columbus, Ohio, has been making fan art inspired by the imaginary movie.
Mx. Paulson pointed out Tumblr users have a rich history of this very particular brand of creativity, recalling how users several years ago created a similarly real fandom for “Squiddles,” a fictional TV show within the universe of the web comic “Homestuck.” But for some Tumblr users, it can be frustrating to be on the outside of inside jokes when other users refuse to cave and admit the thing they are talking about isn’t real.
That’s not what’s happening with “Goncharov” though, according to Dani Mays, an illustration student in Kansas City, Mo. “When that happens, it feels like they’re laughing at your expense, watching you get increasingly frustrated at the dissonance and taking that frustration as part of the bit, turning you into part of the punchline,” Ms. Mays, 24, wrote in a popular post on Tumblr. “I’m not seeing any of that with Goncharov, at least as far as the more popular users participating in it.”
“The fact that people are so willing to break the joke long enough to tell people what’s going on and then bring people into the fold, so to speak, is nice,” Ms. Mays added in a phone interview with The Times.
How the title “Goncharov” came to be on the boot’s tag in the first place continues to be a mystery. Michael Littrell, a musician from Minneapolis, has a theory. After seeing the boots floating around Tumblr for years, Mr. Littrell, who studied journalism in college, started investigating in October and eventually came across an Italian producer named Domenico Procacci. (The same producer named by the boots.) From there, he connected the dots to a 2008 film called “Gomorrah,” about Italian organized crime.
Mr. Scorsese was not the director, but according to Mr. Littrell, 24, and a years-old story from The Hollywood Reporter, “Gomorrah” had a presentation credit from the famed director when it arrived in the United States.
A poster Mr. Littrell found in his search reads “Martin Scorsese Presents” at the top and is stylized much the same as the boots’ label, with Mr. Scorsese’s name in red and the title of the film in capitalized black letters. The director of “Gomorrah” is Matteo Garrone. Who shares a first name with Matteo JWHJ0715.
A tagline proclaims “Gomorrah” to be “BASED ON THE BEST SELLING EXPOSÉ BY ROBERTO SAVIANO ABOUT THE NAPLES MAFIA.” Details that bear a striking similarity to the boots that started this whole saga.
“I really want Scorsese to see this and maybe make Goncharov,” reads a reply on Mr. Littrell’s Tumblr post documenting his findings.
Madison Malone Kircher is a reporter for The Times. She writes about the internet for the Styles desk. @4evrmalone
Source: NY Times
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