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#after already winning a couple awards as part of a duo
yonpote · 5 months
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i spent the majority of 2016 with another person, dan howell,
so i think it's only fair that he comes up here and shares this with me
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andypantsx3 · 3 years
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statistically significant | 7 | bakugou/reader
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length: 23,490 words | 7 chapters
summary: You’re the scientist who developed a neural net to model the value of assists. Now that your work is feeding into the hero rankings, pro hero Ground Zero has a bone to pick with your results.
tags: romance, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, reader-insert
warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, m/f threats of violence, problematic behavior
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One month later
The Hero Awards certainly did not disappoint the second time around.
Though you’d spent the last few months in the company of some of these heroes, you couldn’t help but linger on the sidelines as they stalked their way down the walkway, staring in awe. As before, they were decked out in their absolute best, glimmering in jewel toned dresses with daring cutouts, or carving dashing profiles in well-fitted suits. Reporters and fans swarmed the sides of the red carpet, roiling like a pot reaching an agitated boil.
Their excitement was so palpable it hung heavy in the air, absolutely contagious. Maybe it was the fact that you knew some of the heroes up for awards tonight personally, but the potential of the evening simmered under your skin, a soft but constant hum of frenetic energy.
Or maybe some of that was due to the fact that this year, you’d been able to convince your boss to shell out the extra cash for the full dinner option. No longer would you need to smuggle snacks into your dress--this evening, you were a solid professional.
Which was a good thing, really, as the dress in question was not altogether any more secure or supportive than your dress from last year. You’d tried to angle for a thicker fabric and a little more of a conservative design, but several people had aired opinions on your choices over the course of the last few weeks, and you’d ended up in a thin swathe of delicate fabric that was really quite pretty, if you did say so yourself, but would support a grand total of maybe two popcorn kernels.
“You’re looking awfully forlorn over here,” someone chirped by your ear.
You startled, whirling to find Mina behind you, looking rosy and radiant in a form-fitting dress only a few shades lighter than her skin tone. Tiny pearls and clusters of glittering pink diamonds were stitched carefully into the fabric, winking at you as she moved, as bright as the conspiratorial grin she wore. She looked absolutely fabulous--she was one of the people who’d bullied you into the snackless gown, and you could begrudgingly admit that the girl had taste.
“Is it because a certain hotheaded blonde isn’t here yet?” she asked, a pink eyebrow going up.
You flushed. “Mina--oh my god, no. Not everything is about him, you know.”
She idly inspected a nail, looking supremely unconvinced. “Someone should tell him that, then.”
You huffed a laugh. The last time you’d been at the Awards, you’d said as much to him yourself. But a year later, the message was still not exactly being received.
“I’m actually thinking about dinner. I’m literally starving,” you complained, trying to divert the subject.
Mina nodded sympathetically. “I have a six pack and I still had to suck in to fit into this shit.”
As if on cue, your stomach growled sympathetically. You weren’t proud of what it was going to be like when you were finally unleashed on that multi-course dinner, but god it was gonna be worth it.
Several shrieks went up in the crowd of fans behind you, and you looked over your shoulder in alarm. Your pulse relaxed slightly when you realized it was just another pro sauntering down the walkway, but then the lights flickered off ashy blonde locks, and your pulse jumped violently. You jerked in surprise.
Mina didn’t even try to suppress her snort as you turned around fully, eyes pulled like a magnet to Bakugou as he stalked down the red carpet. Even looking like he would rather be anywhere else, and moving briskly over the carpet like he was going in for a kill, he still looked better than he had any right to. The charcoal of his suit--stitched with deep ruby flowers so dark they were almost black--brought out the piercing scarlet of his eyes, and your heart leapt into your mouth when those eyes cut over to meet yours.
His expression didn’t change, and he kept moving, but you flushed all the way from your head to your toes at the intensity behind his look.
Mina made a disgusted noise. “You’re both like a dog with a bone.”
You glared at her accusingly. “We literally just looked at each other.”
She clicked her tongue. “Please, he all but just pissed on you to mark his territory.”
Before you could reply, she called out, catching sight of Kirishima, and seized you to drag you over to say hello.
You let Mina drag you around for the next half hour, making polite conversation with her high school friends, a couple of friends from other agencies, and one fashion journalist who Mina had converted into a weekly drinking buddy. Mina kept the conversation light and easy, and you enjoyed yourself for the most part, though you almost passed out when a very distinct head of green curls materialized over her shoulder and then Midoriya Izuku--better known as the number one hero Deku--was smiling at you eagerly.
Things got even weirder when he appeared to not only already know who you were, but knew a great deal about your work, enough to ask some very detailed questions about your training model software that was going into production a couple months from now. Mina had the gall to cut into the conversation to call you both huge nerds, though she’d directly benefited from the model herself.
The conversation was unfortunately cut short when a calloused hand flung itself in front of your face and a rough voice sounded from over your shoulder. “Stop sticking your nose in my fucking business, Deku.”
You whipped around to find Bakugou glaring over your head at his former classmate. His hand closed around your shoulder and dragged you closer to him.
“I was just asking about her model, Kacchan,” Midoriya said patiently. “It’ll be great to be able to compare my movements directly with some of the other heroes in almost real time! Ojirou’s been trying out some new fighting forms and I was thinking I should try to adapt them to work into my shoot style--”
“Just because you couch it in nerd shit doesn’t mean you’re not trying to spy on me, fuckstick,” Bakugou said. “Stop poking your nose into my relationship like the town fucking gossip.”
Midoriya flushed a little, looking slightly chastened when you turned back to him in question. He gave you an embarrassed little smile. “I did want to meet you for reasons other than your model. Kacchan’s been my friend since I was little, and I wondered what kind of person could interest him so much he wanted my perspective on your work--”
“Shut the fuck up,” Bakugou demanded, but he wasn’t fast enough.
You perked up in interest. “He asked you what?”
Bakugou bristled like a cat being dangled over a bath, but Midoriya was paying him no mind. “Right after the last Hero Awards, he’d done all this research and he asked me about whether your model results lined up with some of the personal analysis that I was doing--”
“Deku,” Bakugou’s fingers tightened on your arm, growing alarmingly warm. “If you don’t shut the fuck up right now I’m going to punch all of your teeth straight down your throat and into your stomach.”
“Kacchan,” Midoriya protested, but he was interrupted by a call on the overhead for everyone to start taking their places in the theater interior for the awards to begin.
Bakugou used the distraction to pry you away from Midoriya. In the blink of an eye, he’d gotten you across the theater and was corralling you towards the Miruko agency tables, looking like he’d sucked on a lemon. You stifled a laugh. You’d wondered a couple months ago exactly how and when he’d figured out you were quirkless, and he’d once asked if you thought you were the only one who’d done their research.
If things were anything like you were starting to suspect, your demands that he do better at the Hero Awards had apparently aroused his interest in more ways than one.
You and Bakugou hadn’t exactly settled on formal terms for your relationship yet, and he still more often than not answered any of your interest with the assertion that you were the one with the crush on him. But this was more evidence--beyond the mysterious coffees that showed up at your workstation almost every morning--that your interest was more intensely reciprocated than he was willing to own up to.
By the time you’d settled at a table and been flanked by a grinning Mina and Kaminari, the awards were getting underway. They were thrilling to watch, something you’d had to miss out on last year when you needed to sneak out with a giant hole in the front of your dress. The heroes you’d worked with this year raked in an insane number of awards, and their elation was palpable, so thick you could almost taste it in the air. The pair of men with satyr horns were named the Best Rookie Duo, Miruko was awarded Takedown of the Year, and Kaminari clocked the Fastest Fight Win for a battle last month in which he’d rendered a villain with an aluminum quirk insensate only seconds into the fight.
A very unfortunate match up, you thought.
Mina nabbed an award for Fan Favorite, and in almost no time, it was the moment that you’d been nervously awaiting since nominations had gone out. You’d cheated, doing your own calculations behind everyone’s backs just to get a clearer picture of what his chances were, and you rather liked his odds, but there was always a chance it wouldn’t go how you thought. But this was the moment that Bakugou was up for Most Valuable Hero.
You barely heard any of the words the host was saying as he trotted out the names of the nominees, detailing some of their key accomplishments. He covered Bakugou's latest slew of assists and rescues, stats that made you feel kind of weirdly warm and proud, and then your ears strained for the syllables you’d hoped to hear.
And then:
“The winner is...our explosive number six, Ground Zero!”
It took everything in you not to leap out of your seat in joy, though something like a strangled squeal managed to escape you. Bakugou gave you an evaluating look as he got to his feet, stalking up on stage with his usual intensity.
As soon as he was up there, it struck you that allowing him time for an acceptance speech was maybe not a great idea. Graciousness was not exactly a strength of his.
“Obviously I’m the most valuable,” he growled into the mic. The stage lights glinted off his hair and teeth, making him look slightly more predatory than usual. “I didn’t need you fucks to tell me.”
A choking noise could be heard from Kirishima’s seat a couple tables over, and Mina put her head in her hands.
“What’s important is that I’m number six now and it only took me a month,” Bakugou’s head swiveled in the direction of Midoriya and you suppressed a groan. “Don’t get fucking comfortable. I’m gonna wipe the floor with every one of the top five, and next awards you’ll all be kissing my ass.”
He didn’t seem like he had much more he wanted to say, which was an incredible relief as both the host and nearby security looked about ready to wrestle him offstage.
He leapt neatly down from the stage, and when he made it back to the table, he didn’t take his seat again. Instead, he grabbed your arm, hauling you out of your seat, and then he was pulling you down the aisle and through the door to the reception area.
He pulled you past the snack table and you thought he was steering you towards the stairwell again, but at the last second he took a sudden turn, shoving you through a door into the women’s powder room. You didn’t even have enough time to formulate a question before he had you backed up against the wall, your shoulders hitting the cool stone at the same time his mouth hit yours.
His kiss was hot and demanding as always, and you lost yourself in it easily. He trailed a line of burning kisses down your neck and over your shoulder, making you shudder and shake when he lingered too long over any particular spot.
It was hard to think past the press of his body on yours, but you tried your best to formulate words.
“Katsuki--it’s--we’re in the women’s room,” you panted, embarrassed by the fact that even as you spoke, you were clutching him closer. “This is--what are you--? S-someone’s gonna come in.”
Bakugou broke apart from you just long enough to level a searching glance around the room and--spotting what he’d been looking for--hefting the trashcan in front of the door with a forceful kick to stop it shut.
“There, nerd. Now stop fucking complaining,” he rasped, immediately attaching his mouth back under your jaw. You shuddered.
“What the fuck has gotten into you,” you demanded, seizing a fistful of his blonde hair to pull him back from where he was leaving what felt like a very deep bruise over your collarbone.
He leveled you with a burning, red-eyed stare. “Like you don’t fucking know.”
You looked at him in question. “...I actually don’t.”
He tried to lean in again but you gripped his hair harder. “What? You can’t just keep throwing me up against walls, especially here. What is it with you and shoving me into weird places at the Hero Awards?”
Bakugou growled. “If you don’t shut the fuck up and let me do what I want, I’m gonna burn throught this dress too.”
You froze up, then glared at him accusingly. “I literally write the code that processes your rank. If you ever wanna come within sniffing distance of the top three, you won’t touch a single thread of this dress.”
The hands on you grew hot, but not hot enough to burn. Bakugou slid a calloused hand over the curve of your waist, thumb brushing the underside of your breast.
“God, the fuckin’ attitude on you,” he said, almost reverently.
You felt your face warm under his scrutiny as he leaned closer. “You wanna know what's gotten into me? I wanted to melt that entire fucking thing off you last year. You were so fucking mouthy, such a little brat to me. Wanted to rip your dress off and fuck you right in the stairwell until you forgot you’d ever even heard of numbers.”
You shivered. Bakugou smirked, eyes darkening, leaning back in to bite under your jaw. You realized you’d lost your grip on him and willed your fingers to cooperate again.
“I fucking won that stupid award because I let you boss me around. I've waited an entire year. Now you’re gonna let me do whatever I want with you.”
Your legs went out from beneath you but Bakugou was already there, catching you under your thighs and hauling you up onto the countertop between the sinks. Your back brushed the mirror, glass cold under your shoulder blades.
“Y--you know, if you actually want to be number one, you can’t make speeches like you did,” you babbled nervously as he filled the space between your thighs. “Your public approval rating is part of your ranking, right? It’s weighted right below rescues…”
Bakugou paid you no mind, fingers already searching over your back to find the zipper to your dress. He yanked it down with little ceremony, seizing the front of your bodice to pull it off of you.
“I don’t need to be fucking nice if I’m the one saving the day,” he announced imperiously, leaning down to capture a nipple with his mouth.
Your hips jerked, and he pressed a hand to your thigh, holding you back down against the counter. Dimly, you registered that the words were familiar. “N--not--ah!--not this again.”
Bakugou didn’t deign to respond, instead doing something absolutely mind-bending with his tongue. You swore loudly, catching a fistful of his jacket. “Fuck, Katsuki!”
A hot palm slid up your thigh, gathering up the soft material of your skirt until he could slip a hand underneath. Calloused fingers trailed over your core with obvious intention. You inhaled sharply when he pressed them into you, leaning up to cover your mouth with his again.
Bakugou had you squirming wildly against him in barely a minute, snorting when you tried to get a hand on his zipper.
“Want me that bad, nerd?” he asked, pressing forehead to yours in an oddly tender move.
“If you don’t hurry the fuck up I’m gonna finish things myself,” you threatened, though Bakugou did not look at all as if he believed you.
He helped you get his zipper down, taking himself in hand, but he stopped just as he brushed your entrance, leaning forward to bite another kiss into your mouth.
“Now it’s time for you to make good on your end of the bet,” he growled, a smirk growing over his features. “You’ll tell me I’m the best and I was right all along.”
You stilled underneath him, disbelieving. “Are you--are you fucking serious.”
Bakugou pressed forward, just enough for you to feel the pressure of him on your clit. You fought down a noise like a whimper. Damn him.
“I jumped two ranks,” he said. “You’ll tell me I’m the best if you want me, nerd.”
“I am not gonna beg for you like this,” you announced, though it sounded a little more like a question than you had wanted it to.
Bakugou brushed his thumb over your clit again and little sparks danced over the corner of your vision. “Mmm, you’re gonna scream.”
You felt something like a tension snap inside you. Fuck it. He was so annoying but holy shit if he wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever encountered. If he needed his ego stroked, well it wasn’t nearly as much as you needed your own stroking.
You grit your teeth. “Ugh, fine--just--you’re the best, and you were right all along. Now will you please--”
You didn’t even get to finish before he was sinking into you, narrow hips fitting flush with your thighs. You swore at the feeling of fullness, and then he was moving, picking up into a frantic pace. He leaned forward, sealing his mouth over yours to swallow all the little noises you were making. It was mere minutes before you were shivering underneath him again, moving your hips to meet his, desperate for more, Katsuki, more.
“Ah fuck--so fucking good for me,” he grunted against your mouth, giving a particularly hard thrust, and that was all it took to unravel you.
You stifled a scream in the thick fabric of his jacket, arching up into him. He cursed and followed after you with a few more short thrusts, crushing you against the counter when he let his weight go slack.
You panted underneath him, catching your breath while your fingers slowly unclenched themselves from the hem of his suit jacket. Bakugou rubbed his face in the hollow of your shoulder, radiating smug satisfaction.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it, nerd?” he rasped, biting down lightly where he’d left the hickey earlier.
You pulled back, looking into his face again. He looked far too pleased with himself, but he was so handsome like this, all messy hair and a kiss darkened mouth. Your irritation with him fizzled out a little.
He flashed you a predatory grin. “You said it yourself--I'm the fucking best.”
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop your hand from coming up and tangling in his hair. “Shut the fuck up.”
Bakugou, predictably, did not look as if he was going to shut the fuck up at all. So you took matters into your own hands, and leaned in and kissed him again.
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blahkugo · 4 years
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Biggest Fan
DABI x HAWKS x READER
Music! AU inspired by THIS photo set...or, the one in which Dabi, Hawks, & Endeavor are a famous rap group, and the reader gets VIP treatment. 
NSFW begins after the ~~~ for those of you who don’t care for plot! 
Warnings: 18+!, SMUT, cursing, threesome, rough sex (? not sure what your definitions of the word are but they do be slapping you around…), just pure filth basically 
You’ve been squealing into the phone for the past ten minutes. Honestly, you can’t believe the words coming from your best friend’s mouth, even after asking her to repeat them a fourth time. 
“Babe, even if you weren’t my agent, I would have found a way to get you in,” Rumi scoffs into the speaker, unphased by your relentless questioning. Though she’s always been a bit impatient when it comes to your antics, she knows how big of a deal this is to you. “How could I not? You talk my ear off about them.”
“I owe you for the next thirty years!” Your screech turns the heads of a few other customers, and you can feel the irritation radiating off the glare of one particularly peeved woman seated near you. But who cares? You’re too excited for a few middle-aged drags to dampen your mood. 
“Remember what you just said the next time I try to skip out on an interview,” her laugh echoes loudly; she must be at the studio.
“Yes! Whatever you want, Twinkle Toes. It’s yours!” She begins to grumble at the use of the old nickname,
“How many times have I told you not to-” You catch the scowling woman turning towards you.
“Got-to-go-text-me-the-details, love you!” The parting phrase comes out a hurried ramble. Unbothered as you are by a few stares, direct confrontation definitely isn’t worth the trouble. You’re out of the bistro and in your car before anyone can open their mouth. 
The cup of iced coffee you press to your flushed face does nothing to curb the elation threatening to bubble over from inside you. Rumi really has outdone herself this time. Being that she’s both a long-time best friend and client of yours, you know just how hard she’s been working to book a job of this caliber. Images of the two of you icing sore feet after hours of grueling practices spring to mind, making your bad ankle throb. If you could tell your younger selves who they are now— an internationally acclaimed dancer and a talent manager with a novel’s worth of influential clients— they wouldn’t believe it. And the work was paying off in more ways than one. Soon, Rumi will be making her music video debut...and you’ll actually be in the presence of your favorite artists, Suns of Icarus. 
The rap trio’s been all you can talk about forever. No, like really, forever. Even back at arts school, Rumi had to talk you out of choreographing dances to their music practically once a week. You can still hear her promising you that your 70 year-old ballet instructor did not, in fact, want to see you pirouette to a song that's chorus consists of Hawks saying the word “pussy” over and over again. Usually the memory would drown you in embarrassment (especially considering the story is Rumi’s favorite icebreaker), but now even that can’t hamper your mood. You sigh cheerily, pulling into your reserved parking space. Tomorrow, you’ll be surrounded by your idols.
-
“Are you sure I look okay?” You ask for the third time in an hour, tugging at the hem of your silk tank. Though you’re wearing your favorite suit, you can’t help but feel out of place in the large dressing trailer. After all, it’s  not every day that you accompany your clients on their gigs. Your job is getting them the gigs, and usually you prefer it that way.
“(Y/N), quit stressing! If you looked any hotter the guys would have a heart attack,” your best friend bellows loudly. “Doesn’t she look smokin’?” She questions the hairdresser who, apart from a nod and reassuring smile, you can’t quite understand over the sound of the blow dryer. “Who’s the bad bitch that got me this job in the first place? Oh right, that was you,” she pumps a manicured finger towards you to echo the claim, “so woman up!” 
She doesn’t put her finger down until she sees your face soften. It’s not like she’s wrong. “Professional smooth-talker” is basically your job description. In Hollywood people are afraid of you, the woman who can make or break a career. Who are you to let a couple of talents get you riled up? You allow your body to relax in your seat. Even if those talents are the group of boys that you’ve been crushing on since you were 16. Recalling that fact has you scrambling out of the trailer, face beet-red yet again.
“I’m going to grab something from the coffee cart. Be right back!” The door shuts behind you with a loud thud. Rumi should be spending this time going over the routine, not talking you down from the ledge you’re attempting to throw yourself off of over a few stupid guys. Besides, you’ll probably receive a polite greeting at best. The world’s favorite musicians have more important things to do than indulge your fantasies. 
Having iced coffee and a bagel in your hands is all you need to feel the tension in your shoulders dissipate and your smile return; truly a working woman’s comfort meal. The spring in your step is restored as you walk back to the trailer, too entranced by the savory goodness to properly hear the voice that hollers from your right. You do, however, hear the scolding that follows the catcall,
“How many times have I told you not to hit on people that work for us, birdbrain.” Your entire body swings towards the familiar nickname and a piece of bagel nearly falls from your mouth. Not even a few feet away, Dabi holds your favorite vocalist in a one-handed headlock, attempting to ruffle the blonde’s hair while keeping a cigarette balanced between his own fingertips. 
“Not the hair, man! The stylist’s already had to touch it up twice today!” Hawks’ shrieks are muffled beneath the bicep of his counterpart. 
“Go apologize,” The lanky man shoves Hawks towards the spot your feet are now cemented to. Though he’s reprimanding him, you swear you detect a hint of amusement in his tattooed face. “I’m sorry about him, sweetheart,” he calls, lips contorting into a smirk that should be illegal. You feel your thighs press together on their own; the situation isn’t made any better by the pretty boy walking towards you, hands threading through his golden locks in an effort to fix the havoc Dabi wrought. 
“My bad,” he flashes you an award-winning set of teeth you’ve previously only had the pleasure of viewing through your laptop screen; somehow they’re even pearlier in person. The glimmer of a tiny gem catches your eye and you notice one is sealed to his canine, only dazzling you further. “I meant what I said though, you’re gorgeous,” his hand moves from his own hair to twist a piece of yours between his fingertips. The lack of boundaries leaves you feeling stupefied, but he doesn’t let up, going as far as wrapping the lock around his polished index finger. God, even his hands are pretty...What if they were trailing the inside of your thigh and—  Your mind shouts at you to behave, a fruitless undertaking when the object of your adolescent desires is touching you ever-so softly. 
“Um- I- Thank you?” The stuttered phrase comes out confused. Where the hell is the professional smooth-talker side of you when you need her? “I’m Rumi’s agent and uh- I-I’m a big fan!” Heat blazes through your face and chest; you’d slap yourself for the outburst if they weren’t here. 
“Oh, really? She told us all about you!” He waves a hand towards Dabi. “Oi! Matches! She’s not an assistant, she’s Rumi’s manager!” The gloomier man extinguishes his cigarette before making his way towards the two of you, smug expression wavering only when he glances at Hawks. A short wheeze leaves the blonde when his chest is smacked lightly by his partner. 
“I told you not to call me that.” Dabi turns his attention towards you. “(Y/N), right?” He sticks a hand out to shake and you quite literally drop the remains of the bagel to reciprocate the motion, a move that makes you redden and him snicker. “Rumi told us you’re our biggest fan,” his sly grin tells you your loud-mouthed best friend had probably spilled too much information their way. Oh, she’s definitely going to get an earful later. 
He doesn’t drop eye contact the entire time he’s speaking to you, and you find yourself enchanted by the deep sea-blue of his irises. You would literally swim in those pools if given the chance. Only when Hawks clears his throat do you realize you’re still shaking his friend’s inked hand. After dropping it rapidly, you urge yourself into composure out of pure distress. 
“Sorry, I’m honestly a bit starstruck. I’m sure Rumi told you how much I love your music,” you finally sound a bit like your usual self. 
“She didn’t really mention our music, did she Matches?” Hawks chirps, dodging Dabi’s fist this time.
“No, I don’t think she did, dipshit,” he spits the insult through gritted teeth as a final warning. “But I do remember her telling us something about being your first two crushes...or was it your ‘sexual awakening’? I can’t really remember the term she used…” Your knees almost buckle at the obvious teasing, and you silently swear to murder Rumi when she’s done shooting this video. It’s evident that the mockery is highly amusing to them— the glints in their eyes border on ravenous. 
Because you’re not typically someone whose presence is taken lightly, the thought of being toyed with by a few arrogant men has your blood boiling. You’ve already dealt with too many pretentious assholes who don’t believe women, especially younger ones, belong in management; you didn’t claw your way to the top of the industry for all of that hardship to go to waste. Ever the more perceptive of the duo, Dabi seems to realize the shift in your mood. 
“Relax,” he reaches a hand towards you before thinking better of it, choosing instead to tug at the thin, silver piercing adorning his bottom lip. “We’re only teasing. She didn’t say anything like that, obviously.” You stare at him incredulously, arms crossing your chest. “Why don’t we give you a tour?” Though he’s the one who makes the offer, it sounds as though he’d rather be doing anything else. 
“We’re not really assholes, promise,” Hawks jumps in, crossing his fingers over his heart in a show of good faith. “This one just gets too big headed around beautiful women,” he points at the heavily-inked man, who simply rolls his eyes at the accusation. You’d thought the blonde was…well, nothing more than the stereotype his hair color implied, but he’s sharper than he seems. It appears that unlike Dabi, who comes off curt and ungenuine, Hawks’ wit stems from his charm. 
You can’t help but think of how the two of them compliment each other beautifully. That’s probably why their entire fanbase thinks they should be dating. With that ludicrous thought, your exuberance returns. After Hawks assures you they don’t have to be on set any time soon, you find yourself taking them up on their offer. They seem to be a handful, sure, but how long have you dreamt of spending uninterrupted time with your favorite members of the group? Besides, it’s only a tour. What could go wrong?
-
It’s apparent only five minutes into your time together that Hawks (despite his insistence you call him Kiego, it’s difficult after years of referring to him by the stage name) does not know the meaning of personal space. He spends the better part of the tour hooking an arm through yours, touching your hair, or pestering Dabi. While some may take this over-familiarity as a sign of disrespect, it feels more to you as though he’s simply comfortable in his skin. 
Rude or not, his bold actions do nothing but spur your heart to beat out of your chest. Every time he guides you towards an attraction with a cheerful comment, you swear his fingers purposefully dash under your layers of clothing, brushing faintly at the skin of your waist in a way that makes your heart (among other parts) flutter.  
“And as I’m sure you know, we’re filming this music video mid-tour,” his hand flits away as swiftly as it skimmed you, prolonging the torture of wondering whether his movements are purposeful or a figment of your twisted imagination. After showing you most of the fabricated scenery— and even the gorgeous, cherry-red convertible that was rented— for the video, you’ve arrived at the group’s infamous tour bus. You once read that most of their concerts end with the vehicle being mobbed by ruthless fans, one of the sole reasons you’ve never attended a show. Someone as busy as you doesn’t have time for all the horrid traffic the mobs cause. “Wanna see inside? It’s actually pretty roomy.” 
You nod, eyes trailing towards Dabi, who’s busy stomping out the most recent cig he’d been puffing on. Aside from the occasional chuckle at your flustered blunders or annoyed curse thrown towards Hawks, the taller man had kept mostly to himself. His indifference confuses you, makes you wish you hadn’t reacted so bitterly to the loose smile and banter he offered you upon first meeting. At the same time, part of you is irritated by his standoffish personality. From what you’ve seen so far, his remarks serve the single purpose of humiliating others for his own amusement— a stark contrast to the misjudged softy he’s portrayed as on camera. 
You’re guided onto the bus and Dabi follows, cursing under his breath at something or other. Sociable as he is, Hawks begins to chatter again, seeing no issue in being the center of your attention. You realize the space is much roomier than it seems. State of the art technology allows the bunk beds to fold back with a press of the button, leaving room for a decently sized couch. It’s also much cleaner than you would expect three young men living on the road to allow. 
“And the lowest one was my bunk, just in case you’d like to see it again later,” he whispers the sentence as though it’s his best kept secret, wagging his thick brows exaggeratedly to key you in on his joke. “Hey, why are you laughing? I’m totally seriou–” The doors swivel open and your giggles are cut off by heavy footsteps and a booming voice,
“Oi! Keigo! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You have to crane your neck to see the pillar of a man’s scrunched, stoic face. Endeavor, the pyrotechnic-obsessed “hype man” and third part of Suns of Icarus’s trio, stands a few feet from you, clearly exasperated by something his bandmate has done. Hawks must know precisely the reason for the bottle-redhead’s tone, because his face pales. 
“Enji, we made a new friend!” He pulls you into his chest in an obvious attempt to shield himself from the giant, but your face heats at the close contact regardless. 
“You were supposed to be on set for your solo scenes ten minutes ago,” he crosses his sculpted arms, “so let’s go.” The lively man is being whisked away by the larger one before he can utter a word of rebuttal. “Nice to meet you,” he calls casually to you over his shoulder. 
“Dabi, keep (Y/N) company! I’ll be back!” Hawks shrieks with a dramatic flare. The man was truly born to be an entertainer. 
An unbearable awkwardness envelops the two of you once you’re alone. Without his best friend around, Dabi drops any semblance of amiability, but it’s not as if he was trying very hard before. He plops down on the couch and pulls out his phone. You sit as far away from him as possible, but realize you don’t have your own device to keep you busy. After a few nervous minutes of twiddling your thumbs, you attempt to break the silence.
“So, Haw– Keigo and Endeavor use stage names, why don’t you?” You spout the first question that comes to mind, hoping it’ll spark an interesting conversation.
“Dabi is my stage name,” he answers curtly, without looking up from his cell. 
“Oh...but– even your bandmates call you by it?” 
“Yep. Don’t care for my real name,” his eye roll sends ice through your veins.
“Excuse me,” you snap, “have I done something to offend you?” The frustration in your tone wins you eye contact, at least. 
“Nope.”
“Unbelievable….I’m going to need your publicist’s information.” 
“Huh?”
“Well, anyone who can make you seem like the world’s most ‘misunderstood heartthrob’ on camera certainly deserves a pay raise, dontcha’ think?” His eyes drop to send a steely glare your way, but you’re too fed up to feel intimidated. You smirk at him, a single eyebrow raised in twisted satisfaction. There’s the bitchy self you know and love. 
“You don’t know the first fucking thing about me,” he sits up, “but I know everything I need to know about you.” 
“Oh? Enlighten me then, sir.” 
~~~
“You may think Keigo likes you, but he likes everyone. You’re, what, thinking you’re special because he’s throwing some attention your way?” Dabi inches closer. “Hoping he’ll get in your panties?” 
“It’s not like that at all–”
“Don’t lie. The idea of being with someone you’ve idolized for years is thrilling, isn’t it?” The heat that rises on your cheeks is enough to confirm his suspicions. “He doesn’t like to see people for who they really are, but I know your type...just another tramp that’ll use him and move onto the next,” his smug expression returns after that little rant. Paired with the tattoos covering most of his face, he appears every bit as wicked as the skeleton his ink emulates— devilish, even. 
“You’re wrong.” You can’t think of a proper argument when he’s so close to you, basically breathing down your neck. 
“Am I?” His hand trails up your clothed thigh, and an unwelcome shiver crawls up your spine. “So you’re going to stop me when I do this, right?” Then, he kisses you. 
It’s not at all soft, or compassionate, or anything resembling your naive teenage fantasies of the artist in the slightest. Rough, slender fingers wrap around your jaw and yank your lips to his. He doesn’t stop at a peck either, choosing instead to assail your mouth with all of his pent-up rage. The cool, hard metal of his lip ring strains against you, a pleasant contrast to the quick heat traveling the rest of your body. You want nothing more than to prove him wrong— to throw him off you, tell him to go straight to hell— but he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and- God, it just feels so good. Your mouth parts in a breathless moan and Dabi takes the reaction as an invitation to swipe his tongue against your teeth. With your bodies melding together violently, the make out feels simply a continuation of the intense argument you were having moments before. 
Pulling you between his lap, he shifts you so that your back is flush across his chest. Nimble fingers make quick work of your clothes. You just barely raise your hips so that he’s able to take your pants off with ease, but you’re sure he notices the eager movement. When you’re left in nothing but your panties, you feel the rumbling of his solid body behind you as he laughs, the sound bitter and pleased all at once.
“Oh you really are a whore,” he chides. “Who’d you wear these for, hm?” He runs his fingers across the band of your red lace thong. 
“Not you,” you bite back, feigning disinterest towards the dangerous position he has you in. The asshole’s not going to get to actually hear you admit defeat so easily. One of his hands kneads your chest and the other grabs your cheeks harshly, pushing them together so that you’re unable to speak.
“Not me? Take a good look at yourself, sweetheart.”  He lifts your head upwards and your breath hitches; the entire ceiling of the bus is covered in a dark, reflective surface. “Who has you naked in their lap right now?” he whispers onto your neck, licking a long stripe upwards until his teeth graze your ear. You watch fervently as he strokes his digits across one of your perked nipples, tweaking the bud roughly. “Who are you being such a slut for?” He’s aware he won’t get a response because his left hand still grips your face, demanding you watch his every move. 
Dabi then snakes his fingers down your midriff tortuously slowly, brushing lightly in a way he hasn’t touched you yet; as if the skin there is delicate, worthy of his valuable adoration. The ink traveling his arms makes him appear so ethereal, so sinister and compelling, that you can’t help but let out a muffled mewl. Once he reaches your panties, his fingers dart beneath the material and the tender moment is lost. An onslaught of pleasure wracks your body when he begins to draw quick circles on your clit. He lets go of your cheeks, now sore and reddened from both pressure and bliss. 
“I’m going to ask one more fucking time,” his fingers glide against your soaked slit, “who are you being such a dirty slut for?” You contemplate not giving him the answer he’s looking for, and part of you is sinfully curious about what may happen if you enrage him further; however, that idea is put to rest immediately when he snaps his head up to look at you through the mirror, blue eyes pooling with lust and a hint of something animalistic. That stare, paired with the relentless strokes across your clit, provokes your moaned answer,
“F-for you, Dabi.” He uses his free hand to insert two, thick digits inside you.
“Say it again.” 
“I’m- fuck– a s-slut for you,” you practically sob out. You press the back of your head into his shoulder harder, squeezing your eyes closed and biting your lip. 
“Not going to keep your eyes open? Fine.”  The fingers are removed from your clit and you’re about to let out an unsatisfied whine, only for him to grab the back of your head and mash your swollen lips to his once again. Then, after another brief caress of your abdomen, he’s back to touching your sensitive bud. All of your moans are silenced by his mouth, and you feel the vibrations of a low groan from his own throat when your ass grinds against his clothed member. When your stomach pulls taut you know you’re seconds away from feeling that all-encompassing pleasure, the tidings of an orgasm so close to washing over you. 
“Oi, Matches! You didn’t throw her out did you?” Hearing Hawks’ voice call out from the front of the bus has you reeling your lips away from Dabi, and though he slows his movements, he doesn’t remove his fingers from your core. Rather than push you away, he takes the other hand off your clit to hold you tightly against him. “(Y/N)? Dab–”
For a few seconds, the only sound you can hear is your own heart beating out of your chest. Takami takes in the scene in front of him— your bare body splayed across his best friend in the lewdest of positions. You know your face is blooming in embarrassment as you wait for a reaction, for his face to drop in disappointment, anger, anything. Instead, he smirks. 
“Starting without me? That’s no fair,” the golden-haired boy actually pouts, but there’s something deeper swimming in his eyes, something almost bloodthirsty. Though this is happening right in front of you, you can’t truly believe it. Dabi relieves the pressure of his arm from your chest.
“Look Kiego, the whore’s fucking drenched for us,” he lifts his fingers towards the beautiful man in front of you proudly, as if showing off a trophy or a new toy. Then he pops the damp fingers in his own mouth, humming at the taste of you. Hawks’ tongue dips out of his mouth, darting across his bottom lip. 
“I want a taste,” he leers at your bright panties, now soaked through. You think you must have died and gone to heaven, what with the two Adonises staring at you as if you’re their last meal. Hawks kneels at the foot of the couch, brings his face right up to your navel, and licks a long, cold swipe. His digits toy at your waist like they were earlier, except this time the movements are decisive and fierce. Just as he’s about to tug your panties down and place his mouth where you want it most, Dabi seizes his jaw and pulls his partner into a long, sloppy kiss. You let out a sigh at the view and— teases that they are— the sound doesn’t go unnoticed by either of them.
“Is watching us turning you on?” Dabi taunts cruelly. 
“Looks like she’s a bit of a pervert, hm?” Hawks retorts, sliding a finger across your clothed slit. The movement causes your entire body to quiver, your senses on high alert. Without another word, he leans down again, shifts your panties to the side, and takes your clit between his lips. The way he laps at you hungrily makes you believe your initial judgment of him was completely inaccurate, and when he inserts two lengthy digits inside you, the thought is confirmed. Hot, white pleasure consumes your body as your core clenches around his digits. He simply cocks an eyebrow at you and chuckles darkly, holding you tightly against him by your waist so that you’re unable to wriggle away. Gone is the lovable persona you were introduced to, replaced now by someone entirely foreign, deviously lewd. 
“Fuck, Hawks,” you whimper, greedy for more. 
“Thought I told you to call me Keigo,” he scolds beneath you, biting the inside of your thigh so that a sharp gasp leaves you. 
“I-I’m sorry, K-Kei–” You’re cut off mid-moan when Dabi kisses you, wrapping one slender hand around your throat and squeezing. His other one threads through your hair and tugs harshly. A painful hiss leaves you but the sound only makes him pull harder, smirking against your lips.
It’s as though they’re competing for your attention. If one of the men evokes a sob or whimper, the other attempts to outdo him— and they have no regard for your body, becoming instead the battleground for their lascivious rivalry. You lose yourself in the intense sensations, unaware of time or its passing, instead focusing solely on the coil tightening in your abdomen. Every gasp, every moan, only pushes them further, and soon your legs are shaking as you feel yourself nearing the delicious edge. 
Just as you’re about to let go, allow yourself the mind-numbing relief of an orgasm, Kiego withdraws his fingers. Rubbing your bruised thighs together is a desperate attempt at friction, but the momentum is completely lost. Your core clenches around nothing, and you cry out, hopelessly bitter at the emptiness between your legs. 
“Sorry, princess,” his hair is sticking up, golden locks tousled from the harsh grip of your fingers. And yet he still looks perfect. He wipes your juices off his chin with a thumb, “but that’s for starting without me.” Despite the apology, he sounds absolutely delighted at your loss. You whine again, hoping it’ll change his mind. “What do you think, Dabi? Should we let her cum?” 
Hearing his name, the tattooed man takes his attention away from your chest and the onslaught of purple marks his lips’ were just peppering on your throat. 
“I don’t think so,” he tweaks at one of your nipples, eliciting a soft groan from you. “I want the bitch begging for it.” Dabi pushes you away from him and stands to unbuckle his belt. “Besides, don’t think she’s done enough to earn it.” You should be outraged at the way they decide your fate as if you’re not even present, but in reality it only thrills you, your clit throbbing at the lack of control. 
“You’re right,” your idol sneers, canines bared and gleaming as he unzips his own pants, “and I wanna see those pretty lips wrapped around me.”
They switch places, shifting you so that your breasts are pinned against the couch between Kiego’s legs. Dabi grinds his hips against your clothed center, and you mewl at the long-awaited friction, hard member straining against his briefs. 
“Get to work, princess,” Kiego calls to you, boxers down to his knees. You can only balk at the sight in front of you. His cock is thick and long, essentially everything you could’ve ever hoped for, but that’s not it. 
Rather, it’s the shiny, silver ball pierced through the shaft and poking out from the top of his head that stops you dead in your tracks. He notices your eyes widen at it, but only snorts, wrapping your hair around his hand and yanking you roughly towards him. 
“Oh, that little thing?” Now he’s shoving you against his length, using your face as nothing more than a means for friction. “Just a drunken dare from Matches.” The nickname provokes the other man into leaving a stinging slap against your behind. And just like that, the angered man drives himself into your cunt. 
“I told you,” slap, “not to,” slap, “call me that.” With each thrust into you, Dabi releases an onslaught of pent-up anger onto your rear, the biting pain causing you to cry out around Kiego’s member. 
“Yeah sweetheart, just like that,” he leans his head back against the couch with a deep groan. “Such a pretty little whore, choking on my cock.” One of his free fingers shoots out to wipe at your tears, hand moving ever-so-lightly to cradle your jaw. The gesture might have been sweet if his other hand wasn’t forcing you down further to swallow him whole. 
“Mmmph–” you scrape carelessly at Kiego’s thighs in an attempt to secure yourself, moans coming out garbled with his cock down your throat. 
“Not done with you yet, slut” Dabi still pounds into you relentlessly. You’re overwhelmed with the feeling of being stuffed from both ends, knees on the verge of giving out until he fastens his hands around your thighs, pulling you into him with even harder plunges. “Fucking take it.” Something hard and cold grinds inside you, and you’re acutely aware of the ridged piercings now pressing against that perfect, spongy spot in your heat.
When he reaches an arm around to rub furiously at your clit, you’re sobbing. Kiego’s deep, golden eyes watching you, Dabi’s unrelenting fingers and thrusts, it’s all too much. 
And then you’re finally letting go. Legs shaking, mind wracked with white as you clench your eyes shut. Your mouth moves away from Kiego’s shaft, only concerned with riding out your high. The tattooed man behind you doesn’t stop his movements either, still pressed deep inside you until your tongue lolls out of your mouth and you’re tapping furiously at his waist. Kiego smiles, taking himself in his hand and slapping his cock against your cheek while he strokes himself. 
“That’s it, baby,” he smooths your hair back, grunting. “You look so pretty when you cum.” He pumps himself a few more times before he finishes, sticky liquid spurting across your lips and into your hair. You reach around to grab at Dabi’s waist again, willing him to stop. He removes himself from inside of you only to flip you around and your cunt clenches at the feeling of emptiness. 
Pulling you into a long, winded kiss, he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip to taste Kiego’s release. Then he’s pushing you to your knees once more, hands threading through your hair roughly.
“Suck,” he scowls down at you. Though you’re breathless, still reeling from your orgasm, the simple command spewed at you has your lips wrapped around him in a second.
He isn’t as girthy as Kiego, but just as long. A trail of piercings go down his length, and your tongue brushes against the cool metal while you wrap your fingers around the area you can’t reach. You stare up at him through thick lashes, piercing blue eyes ogling you as you take him further in. His hand is still perched on your head, but he makes no movement to push you down— instead, basking in your slow seduction. 
You’re sure you look a mess, dried mascara down your cheeks and still covered in Kiego’s cum, but Dabi only revels in the power he has over you, positively thrilled at the way you no longer fight for dominance. He breaks eye contact only when the blonder man tugs him into a kiss, deep and passionate, and the sight only urges you to swallow him deeper. 
“I like her with her mouth so full,” Kiego whispers against Dabi’s lips. 
“Just as long as the bitch isn’t speaking,” the other man groans, rutting into your mouth so that you know he’s close. 
Soon he’s pulling out of you to pump his shaft, your mouth wide open so that the head of his cock brushes against your tongue. Kiego reaches down to move Dabi’s hand, grabbing at his partner’s length so he can stroke it himself. It doesn’t take long after that for the brooding man to cum, head thrown back in a loud grunt while the tantalizing male next to him coaxes him through the orgasm. Kiego angles him so that his hot, white liquid gushes onto both your face and tongue; you suck at Dabi’s head until he forcibly pushes you off him. 
“Fuck,” he sighs, running a hand through his sweaty locks. “Knew you were good for something.” With that final statement, he turns away from you, pulling his pants back on and returning to his spot on the couch as though he wants nothing more to do with you. 
Kiego walks away as well, and you’re sure you’re about to be kicked out now that they’ve had their way with you. A part of you is angered, but a larger part is still processing what just happened, savoring the earth-shattering orgasm the pair blessed you with. 
You look for your discarded clothing, trying to compose yourself so you’re able to get out of their way as quickly as possible. Kiego walks back into the common area, wet rag in hand. He doesn’t speak until he pushes you into the couch, rubbing the clean towel over your face softly.
“So, you’re coming to our concert next week, right?” 
---------------
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Top 5 Brotps
Ahh... to be a pair of bros trying to survive the dreadful world of the apocalypse together...to have a bro who watches your back so that walkers don’t get the drop on you, and to have a bro who is willing to actually listen to you when things are extra rough and you need support.... to probably watch your bro die a super shitty death because it’s twdg and you have no control over the situation...
Good times. 
So yeah, I wanna talk about some of my favorite brotps across this series. We tend to put more focus on romantic duos rather than friendships, so why not shine a spotlight on some platonic love, y’know? 
Also wanna note that I’m more talking canon brotps... as in I’m using what the actual games gave us rather than going off of headcanon... if that makes sense. So like, as much as I could like to put something like brotp Clementine and Mitch on the list since they’re one of my favorites to write, there isn’t enough in the actual text to justify putting them in a top 5. Understand? Cool? Cool. 
5. AJ and Tenn
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I have such a soft spot for these two... which is super unfortunate since Tenn always ends up dead whenever I replay TFS because I refuse to have a dead or tongueless Louis by the end..... but that doesn’t mean I don’t love the friendship between these two before tragedy strikes. 
If you’re brave enough to not trust AJ, therefore sacrificing Louis or Violet, Tenn survives to the end of the season where he and AJ have a really nice heart to heart. If you haven’t at least watched how the scene plays out, I recommend it. 
I love the idea of AJ having someone closer to his age that he can have as a buddy, and I love the idea of Tenn learning how to be a better survivor from AJ. They can teach each other how to be better, y’know? 
Plus, it’s cute to hear AJ say that he likes Tenn the most, that he’s his first real friend. Somethin’ real wholesome about that. 
...Which again, adds to the tragedy of trusting AJ. Sigh. 
4. Javi and Tripp
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I know I’ve said in the past that I wish these two could’ve had an actual romance, but y’know, we gotta accept that it’s never gonna happen in canon.... sigh. 
However, it’d be a sin to overlook the bromance these two have. 
Sure, they got off to a rocky start after Clementine kinda murdered that dude, but that doesn’t stop them from developing a friendship over the course of the season. 
One of my favorite moments between the two is when Tripp confides in Javi about his feelings for Eleanor, and in turn, Javi can explain what’s going on with him and Kate. While I disagree with the love interests actually being talked about, it’s still a quiet, real moment between them. Tripp isn’t afraid to be a bit of a poet when talking about his feelings, and Javi is supportive of that. Two bros who listen to each other? Love that. 
Also there’s something so damn tragic about Javi wanting to save his bro when Joan decides to be a proper antagonist and does the ol’ switcheroo on him. 
All in all, love this bro dynamic and will be forever salty that Tripp has two unpreventable deaths. 
3. Lee and Doug
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I won’t talk too much about this one because I already covered it in my Top 5 Reasons Doug's Pretty Great, but I gotta put them on the list. So, to summarize:
Lee and Doug are the real bros of S1. Y’all thought it was Lee and Kenny? Nah man. When you’re friendship is so fragile that it could totally break with one single disagreement, then I can’t say it’s all that great. And yeah, you could argue that Doug is only Lee’s bro is you save him, and that’s true because otherwise, he’s super dead.
But after saving him, if you disagree with Doug on anything, he doesn’t immediately get all “Ya saved me ONE time, Lee! What have ya done fer me lately?? >:(” In fact, I’d argue that even if things went down differently, Doug would still be a good bro to Lee. 
So Doug wins the bro award. 
The two of them care about each other, from Lee worrying about Doug’s mental health, to Doug going out of his way to save Lee’s life at the dairy, to them having genuine feeling conversations. 
Again, want more details then go read the previous T5F. Just know that they’re best bros and I’ll die on this hill. 
2. Michonne and Pete
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The Michonne mini-series gets a bad rap and that’s not okay. If you're one of many who skip this one when going through the series then shame because you’re missing out on one of the best pair of bros in this series-- Michonne and Pete. 
Listen, Michonne and Pete are great. They’re a couple of bros who have each others backs at all times, Pete cares so deeply about Michonne’s mental health and making she she has what she needs, Michonne feeling comfortable enough with Pete in confide in him about her daughters and the visions she has of them, and they’re more than willing to fight and sacrifice themselves for the other if necessary. 
Sure, they disagree on things, but their friendship isn’t built on “you have to agree with me” so they can actually work things out and be better for it. 
I just love them, okay? Pete wants her to feel like part of the crew and give her a safe space, and Michonne wants to help him in anyway she can, I just.... no one talks about them and it’s not okay. 
Go play Michonne, even if just for these two. They’re worth it. 
1. Clementine and AJ
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Surprise.... but not really. 
C’mon, I think we all know that Clementine and AJ are the ultimate bros. Do I even need to explain? Probably not, but I will anyway. 
Clementine has know AJ since he was born, she has cared for him and did everything she could to get him back-- good and bad things. She could’ve said, “A baby? Fuck that.” but she didn’t, she took little baby AJ and protected and raised him. And we already know that AJ would do whatever he had to in order to protect Clementine back. 
True, the relationship isn’t perfect and miscommunication is, uh... a thing sometimes, but together they grow and become better. Even AJ makes terrible mistakes [y’know... like murder] she promises to help him atone... unless you’re one of the ones who tells him he’s justified which like no judgement or anything but..... y’know. Maybe a little side eye.
Anyway, more than that, they play off each other well and feel like two people who have know each other for years, they feel like a pair of siblings trying to survive in this shitty world and find a home together. 
And can’t forget to mention the cave scene. Not the one with James, but the one where AJ gets upset and the two of them talk some shit out. Don’t get me wrong, I love the James cave scene for how wild it is, but there’s something about the cave scene where it’s just Clementine and AJ, and the choice to trust him or not. 
Oh, and the barn scene? I mean.... c’mon. 
Over all, as far as platonic relationships and brotps go, Clementine and AJ are my favorite. Could write an essay on them and why their dynamic is one of the best parts of TFS but that’s not what we’re here to do. 
Clementine and AJ.... bros for life. 
---
Honorable Mentions
- AJ and Louis.... bros even after everything that went down with Marlon and Tenn.  -Clementine and Rosie. Rosie is best girl.  -Lee and Omid. Two history nerds who should’ve have more bro-time.  -Kenny and his mustache. -Lee and Ben. Yeah, I stand by it. I won’t shut up until someone gives me my Lee and Ben buddy cop dramedy.  -Mitch and Willy until the dumb thing happened.  -Clementine and Lee would count, too, but only really the second half of s1. -Nick and Luke but only for two episodes. -Louis and Violet’s friendship routes are pretty good, too. 
---
What are your thoughts? Do you agree or disagree with my picks? What are some of your favorite brotps? Lemme know! 
Have any suggestions for future T5F’s? Feel free to send ‘em in! :D
Next week’s T5F Top 5 Best Executed Deaths
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tabloidtoc · 3 years
Text
Star, March 1
You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks
Cover: Humiliated Jennifer Lopez used for money and fame by Alex Rodriguez
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Page 1: Princess Eugenie and her husband Jack Brooksbank, who is a UK ambassador for George Clooney and Rande Gerber's tequila brand, welcomed a son on February 9 at London's Portland Hospital
Page 2: Contents, Robin Thicke in front of a piano at Gold Diggers studio in L.A.
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Page 3: Star Shots -- Serena Williams honored late Olympic gold medalist Florence Griffith Joyner by rocking a one-legged Nike catsuit at the first day of the Australian open, Chrissy Metz brought some vibrancy to the virtual SCAD aTVFest where she discussed This Is Us and was honored with the Vanguard Award, Olivia Culpo checked out the view before heading to the Shaq Bowl in Tampa
Page 4: Inside Britney Spears' nightmare -- a shocking new documentary exposes how Britney was used and abused by people she trusted -- Britney's unable to communicate with fans directly without permission -- fans flooded Justin Timberlake's Instagram to demand an apology for what one called profiting from trashing a woman
Page 5: Facing a lawsuit from her estranged older sister has rattled Mariah Carey -- Alison Carey alleged to a NYC court that Mariah had intentionally inflicted emotional distress by writing about her in the 2020 tell-all The Meaning of Mariah Carey and Alison is seeking $1.25 million after the singer accused her of, among other things, throwing boiling hot tea on her and trying to sell a 12-year-old Mariah to a pimp -- now Mariah has become wary of even those in her inner circle and is making longtime employees re-interview for their jobs -- Mariah's always been on the paranoid side but everyone is a suspect now and she's grilling everyone from bodyguards to chefs to stylists and household staff who have been with her for years and if anyone pushes back they are shown the door -- her great fear is that people could cross over and spill secrets to the enemy because she's been caught off guard before by those she trusted
* Catching ZZZs has become a real problem for Kelly Clarkson -- between her gig as a daytime host, trying to sell homes in Nashville and Encino, and battling her ex Brandon Blackstock over custody of their two kids, she is beyond stressed and she can't sleep and nothing works; the most shut-eye she gets is two to three hours -- it's gotten so bad she's even tried hypnotherapy but her workaholic brain outwits it -- meanwhile her legal woes including a lawsuit with her husband and ex father-in-law's talent agency are getting nastier and Brandon has told her in no uncertain terms that he's not going to stop until he gets what he wants which is a ton of money and time with the kids
* She was the most loathed mother in America and now Casey Anthony wants her say -- 10 years after she was acquitted of murdering her two-year-old daughter Caylee, Casey is making a documentary about the trial and she thinks she can clear her name -- she's not looking for sympathy but she believes she's a victim too and was unfairly convicted in the public eye -- she is planning on dropping bombshells in the doc including her take on the theory that the toddler accidentally drowned in the family pool as well as shocking secrets about her own abusive upbringing but don't expect much remorse
Page 6: Just over a year after her father Kobe Bryant and sister Gianna Bryant perished in a tragic helicopter crash, Natalia Bryant who is Kobe's oldest daughter, has signed a modeling contract with IMG Models who also represent Bella Hadid and Gigi Hadid and the just signed Inauguration standout poet Amanda Gorman
* Rumer Willis was heartbroken when her months-long relationship with Armie Hammer fizzled out in December but after harrowing reports of Armie's alleged abuse of women including asking to barbecue their ribs and carry their severed toes in his pocket, Rumer is telling friends she feels lucky -- she wanted to defend him when the cannibalism stories first came out because she thought they were outrageous and now she feels badly for all of the victims and she's really grateful she didn't get caught up in the Armie nightmare
* Star Spots the Stars -- Eva Longoria, Mandy Moore, Demi Lovato, Dan Levy, Dorinda Medley
Page 8: Star Shots -- Meg Ryan wore some wide-legged trousers and a cute cap on a nature walk in Santa Barbara, Gavin Rossdale wore pink socks while playing tennis in L.A., Ciara holding six-month-old son Win during a family getaway to Hawaii
Page 9: Delilah Belle Hamlin and Love Island's Eyal Booker removed their masks for a quick street smooch during a coffee date in L.A., Sofia Richie enjoyed some PDA with shipping heir Gil Ofer in Miami
Page 12: Kate Upton doing yoga, Tia Mowry-Hardrict and her husband Cory Hardrict shared dishwashing duty after cooking at home, Robin Roberts tasted a treat on Good Morning America in New York City
Page 13: Pregnant Brittany Cartwright brought her dog along to retrieve the mail in L.A., Victoria Justice showed off her toned tummy post-workout in L.A.
Page 14: Goldie Hawn turned quality time with granddaughter Rani into a workout toting her in a backpack, Madonna and Guy Ritchie's son Rocco Ritchie waded in during a vacation in Tulum in Mexico, Lucy Hale on a stroll with her dog Elvis in L.A.
Page 16: Chris Noth put in a day's work on The Equalizer in Paterson in New Jersey, Flavor Flav and Flo Rida at The Super Glow Super Bowl kick-off party in Tampa, Bradley Cooper kept daughter Lea close as the two ran errands in NYC
Page 17: More than a week after celebrating 18 months of sobriety Lily Allen enjoyed a snack on-the-go in London, Jessica Alba lifted her son Hayes while riding scooters with husband Cash Warren in Beverly Hills
Page 18: Normal or Not? Cody Simpson got physical with new girlfriend Marloes Stevens during a romantic getaway in St. Barts -- normal, Selling Sunset's Christine Quinn picking up a portrait of herself in L.A. -- normal, Jack Black raised Thor's hammer in a parody posted on Instagram prompting Chris Hemsworth to call it the greatest thing he's ever seen -- not normal
Page 19: The Crown's Emma Corrin looked intrigued by a leafy object she stumbled upon during a stroll in London -- not normal, Sarah Jessica Parker kicked back in heels during a break from assisting shoppers at her flagship store in NYC -- not normal
Page 20: Fashion -- stars look sweet in tiered dresses -- Maude Apatow, Logan Browning, Margot Robbie
Page 21: Julianne Moore, Camila Morrone, Saoirse Ronan
Page 24: After months of quietly dating, Aaron Rodgers and Shailene Woodley are ready to marry and they announced it in the most low-key way possible and the couple are madly in love and feel unequivocally that this is the real deal -- Aaron and Shailene were friends long before sparks flew in August last year and having to endure a long-distance romance during football season actually made their bond stronger -- Aaron and Shailene are already planning to start a family and they're at that stage when they feel ready to be parents and are keen to have a baby
Page 25: Olivia Wilde and Harry Styles have found another dynamic duo to spend their downtime with which is Florence Pugh and Zach Braff -- the foursome hit it off on the set of Don't Worry, Darling which Olivia is directing and in which Florence and Harry star -- they have the best time together and know how to forget the world outside -- as it turns out bearing witness to Florence and Zach's happy relationship despite their 20-year age difference played a part in Olivia taking a chance on dating Harry who is nine years her junior following her split from Jason Sudeikis and seeing them together inspired Olivia to go for it with Harry and she's so glad she did
* While some couples are overwhelmed being with their kids 24/7 in lockdown, Prince William and Duchess Kate have enjoyed the extended family time with Prince George, Princess Charlotte and Prince Louis -- having the kids at home during the pandemic has given Kate baby fever and she loves being around them and wants to have one more and she and William are trying for another, with Kate saying she's hoping for a girl -- as for raising four young kids, the pair are up to the challenge because Kate's a pro at multitasking and William is a devoted dad and they'll split parenting duties
* Matt Damon is hoping a change of scenery will save his rocky 17-year relationship with wife Luciana Barroso as the couple and their three girls have set up house in a lavish $7000-a-night rental in Australia's tony Byron Bay while the actor films Thor: Love and Thunder -- the beachy new surroundings are just what the couple needs after hitting a rough patch and Matt is working overtime to make sure Luciana enjoys herself Down Under by arranging date nights and buying gifts for her to open every day and even when he's working he's got time set aside for just them and the gestures seem to be working and it's the shot in the arm they both needed
Page 26: Cover Story -- Jennifer Lopez humiliated and used -- shocking cheating allegations rock J.Lo's world as fiance Alex Rodriguez's mistress Madison LeCroy tells all -- while Jennifer is putting on a brave face the affair rumors are devastating to her whether she admits it or not -- after revealing she and Alex exchanged DMs Madison said she doesn't want anything bad for his family or for hers -- Alex says it was innocent and that nothing happened but Jennifer is not fully buying it -- Jennifer and Alex's relationship is personal but it's also business; together, their fortunes have doubled
Page 30: Chip and Joanna Gaines -- inside our farmhouse reno -- Chip and Jo are expanding and renovating their Waco home and it may be their toughest job yet
Page 32: Celeb Parenting Fails -- these celebrity moms and dads share their hilarious hapless moments -- Anne Hathaway, Brad Pitt
Page 33: Willie Geist, Mila Kunis, Pink
Page 48: Parting Shot -- Despite it being her first concert in over a year, Miley Cyrus was ready to rock while headlining the TikTok Tailgate Super Bowl pre-show event in Tampa -- the show treated 7500 Florida-based healthcare workers to a set that included guest appearances by Joan Jett and Billy Idol, who both collaborated on Miley's latest album
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yulmoldauer · 4 years
Text
its better not to say such things out loud (Tyson Jost/OC): Chapter One
part 2
Story summary: Mason Wright was recently traded and because an Av. Sometimes a fresh start with a new team across the country is what a guy needs, right? It seems to work out, going to a place where no one truly knows you. That is, until someone finds out what you’re desperately trying to hide.
Chapter 1
Summary: Mason’s had a rough game, to put it simply. It was never the best idea to get into a fight with someone bigger than you. They won even with him taking a five-minute major for fighting halfway through the third period. The team goes out to celebrate his 23rd birthday post-win and Tyson takes care of getting him home and to sleep safely.
Warnings: None, I believe! Just some drinking mentioned and there’s a drunk character if that makes you uncomfortable. There’s also a slur against lgbt people used.
Words: 1,968
Notes: The title is from The Stigma (Boys Don’t Cry) by As It Is. This is the thing with the LGBT main character that I’ve had a few different people tell me they’d be interested in :) I’m having a lot of fun writing and plotting this so far, so let me know if you enjoy!
There were perks to being smaller than most other people in the league. Being an extremely fast and skilled defenseman was one of them.
Being outmatched in every possible articulation, being compared to a chihuahua yapping at a pitbull, everything like that. Which is how he ended up in the penalty box for five fucking minutes, the asshole in the box next to him chirping him the entire time, it seemed like.
“What are you, a fag?”
That was what Mason heard fly by him, aimed at Jost who wouldn’t get into a fight to draw a penalty. Mason knew for a fact that’s what the guy was trying to do. He still took the bait when Tyson didn’t.
Mason was smaller than nearly every player he knew. Watching him get into a fight was exciting yet painful at the same time for anyone with a brain. The other guy was at least six-foot compared to the five-foot-eight Mason. To say it was outmatched…
Mason was going to be lucky if he didn’t come out of this with some scrapes and bruises. A broken nose was pretty likely as well, once he thought about it.
But hearing that word ignited something in him that overtook the reasoning section of his brain and both of them were dropping gloves. Sure, he’d definitely have a black eye tomorrow, but he’d gotten a few good licks in as well.
They still won the game, which was nice.
“Dude, you gotta at least get into it with guys in your weight class.”
“You’re funny, Landeskog. Whole fucking league is out of my weight class,” Mason huffed as he stripped his padding off of his lean torso.
“Yeah, kinda the point,” Zadorov shrugged. “Not your fault you’re smaller, just the way it is.”
“I get it, I’m short,” he ran a hand through his wavy helmet hair and reached down to unlace his skates. “Z, you can fight for me, then. I’ll run my mouth and you can do all the hitting.”
“With you? Don’t take it, man, Wright can go on and on for hours,” Tyson chirped from across the room. That earned him a glove chucked at his face.
“Fuck y’all. I don’t even have a good comeback.”
“Because it’s true!”
Okay, maybe it was true. Mason was just a talker, it’s how it was.
Tyson gave him endless shit about it, but really he didn’t mind. He actually enjoyed just being able to turn his brain off and absorb whatever stuck from what Mason was going on about. Usually it didn’t even matter--ranting about how a show got robbed of some award that doesn’t even matter, spewing information about whatever book he was reading, going off about whatever asshole did something stupid during his day-- Tyson would just let him go until he ran out of steam. Conversations were nice, too, when he was in just a talkative mood as well.
Mason did know how to shut up, though. Sometimes. (Hint: that’s what made him the favorite out of the Wright/Zadorov best friend duo. He could be quieter than Z. They’ve threatened to separate the two on multiple occasions, though.)
“What’d that guy even do to rile you up? You looked pissed,” Nate broke Mason out of his train of thought.
“Just called someone something stupid. I’m not gonna repeat it.”
“He called me a fag because I wouldn’t take the bait for the penalty,” Tyson said soon after. “He’s just a fucking moron because he got a longer penalty than any of us.”
There was an uncomfortable moment as that sunk in, then a few “what the fuck” or “that’s gross” phrases before people moved on to heading to the showers.
Mason was about to sneak away when Tyson called out his name.
“Hey, I wanted to catch you before you hit the shower. You got a second?”
“Yeah, sure. I just have to do some pt kind of stuff before I shower. What’s up?” he offered with a friendly smile.
“I just wanted to thank you for sticking up for me. You definitely didn’t have to, but calling him on it drew a ton of attention to it. I think it’s really important to start weeding that shit out of the sport, y’know?”
“Yeah,” Mason smiled. “I--thanks, man. That means a lot to me.”
“‘Course,” Tyson gave a nod. “And you know if you were, like… y’know, gay or… anything, really, I wouldn’t care. And neither would anyone else on the team. It’d totally be okay.”
Mason wanted to give him a reassuring “I know” but couldn’t. Hockey was definitely not the environment known for welcoming lgbt kids and turning them into well-adjusted, accepted adults.
“Thanks,” Mason murmured. “Really, that means a lot.”
“Of course,” Tyson breathed, like he was getting a huge weight off his chest. “Um, yeah. I’ll let you go do your physical therapy stuff now. I’ll see you at the bar after everything’s done here?”
“Yeah, I’m not gonna ditch you for my birthday, idiot.”
With an excited smile, Tyson turned and headed in the opposite direction.
Once he reached an area to chill out while waiting for the showers to clear out, Mason sighed, plopping into a chair and resting his head in his hands.
Obviously he knew why Tyson brought up starting to call out homophobia and other bigoted shit they were all used to just overlooking. But why did he bring up the whole ‘we’d accept you no matter what’ thing?
The thought of ‘he was very sensitive to a slur so maybe he’s gay’ never crossed Mason’s mind. That would simply be too easy and rational.
Did Tyson know he was different? What exactly did Tyson know? There was no way Tyson would out him, but still. Trusting people to keep a secret was hard. It was just easier to bottle everything up.
God, he needed to figure this out.
Maybe he’d get drunk enough tonight to just forget for a little while. He didn’t get drunk or even drink all that often, he could let go every now and then.
At the beginning of the night, Gabe took his keys, promising that he’d give them to whoever would be driving Mason home. They all knew for a fact Mason wouldn’t drive drunk, it wasn’t even in the realm of possibilities. Honestly, they were more worried about the newly twenty-three-year-old losing them or putting them somewhere so he’d ‘remember where they are later’, which was proven ineffective at the last gathering Gabe threw.
“If you can’t figure out where the stupid keys are, he can come get them in the morning or I can drop them off to him or something,” Gabe rolled his eyes.
“You’re sure you don’t remember where you put them?” JT triple-checked. He’d been the designated driver for a few of them, including Mason, Tyson, and a couple others who had already gotten out to the car.
Mason shook his head. “I’m not even that drunk,” he insisted.
“Uh-huh. Gabe, just let me know if you find ‘em and we can work something out for him in the morning.”
Twenty minutes later, Gabe sent a picture and “anyone know who these belong to?” in the group chat. It was, without a doubt, Mason’s keys, adorned with a keychain reading “DETROIT” in graffiti lettering. He was from Detroit, and everyone knew that he refused to take that keychain off until it literally fell off for some sentimental reason, most likely.
‘Lol where’d you find it?’ someone texted back.
‘My dishwasher. His wallet was there too’
Mason has still never heard the end of that. No matter how hard he tried to explain that when he put them somewhere, it meant that he wouldn’t lose them or buy something stupid online (last time that happened, he bought a thing to hang on a window so your cat could sit on it and sunbathe. Mason has not owned a cat at any point in his life.) and he’d remember where it was once he sobered up.
Of course he still gets relentless shit for it. He wouldn’t expect any different.
Currently, Mason and Z were arm wrestling over a table in the back of the bar, people beginning to call it quits and going home. And with his pride hurt that he could not beat Z in an arm wrestling match, Tyson stole the other’s keys and wallet from Gabe, saying goodbyes and forcing Mason to as well.
“You are blasted, man.”
“Mmph,” he shrugged and laid his head against the passenger window. “I wanna lay down and sleep.”
“You can when I get you home. Gimmie your seatbelt so I can buckle you in.”
Mason followed the order with a small pout, not drunk enough to the point of incoherence but… definitely a little fucked up. Tyson had done this before: dealing with the mopey friend at the end of the night. Mason was definitely one to get mopey or clingy once they left the main event.
“My face hurts.”
“That checks out, buddy. I’ll get you some ice for it back at your place. What?” Tyson continued to ask when Mason stared out the windshield all angsty.
“Still can’t believe I couldn’t beat Z.”
“That guy could slam most of us through a table, don’t beat yourself up.”
“Can’t. Someone already did.”
“You’re full of jokes, huh?”
Mason just grinned sleepily as they pulled into the apartment complex and Tyson had an arm wrapped around his friend to keep him steady. Getting a drunk person to go to bed was usually one of the hardest parts of the night.
“Would you just--”
“I got it,” Mason huffed, fumbling with his keys near the lock of the door.
“Dude.”
“Shut up, you’re gonna wake up my neighbors,” he grumbled, finally getting the door open with a triumphant “see? I’m an adult.”
“I see. Go be an adult and get ready to go to bed,” Tyson rolled his eyes, taking the keys out of the door and locking it behind them.
“I don’t wanna sleep,” he replied quickly.
“You’re drunk, what do you mean you don’t want to sleep?”
“Not tired,” he flopped down on the couch.
“At least get out of your clothes. That way if you fall asleep it’s in pajamas.”
Mason was sprawled out, already clicking through Netflix.
“Fine, I will go get you pajamas. Here,” Tyson pressed a cold compress to a bruise on his face and headed to the bedroom.
“Thanks for driving me,” he heard from the other room.
“‘Course,” Tyson called back. “Here, put these on,” he tossed the clothes at Mason.
“Are you staying here? You can take the guest room, if you want.”
“Sure. Probably easier than trying to get home this late,” Tyson shrugged and headed for the kitchen. As he heard the rustling around of what he assumed was his friend changing, Tyson got a glass of water and painkillers for when Mason woke up.
“I can drive you home tomorrow,” Mason slurred even more heavily as he began getting more tired. He’d managed to get his jeans off and a pair of shorts on before moving onto the shirt. He’d just pulled his shirt off when Tyson walked back in the room with the water.
“Woah,” he said quietly, stopping quickly.
For whatever reason, he’d never realized that he had never seen his teammate and friend shirtless. That was weird, especially when you played sports together for a living. He assumed it was due to the faded scars along his chest, almost in a u-shape under each pec.
He didn’t even know what kind of injury would cause that kind of surgery.
“When did you get surgery?”
Fuck was all that ran through Mason’s head.
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rkxjongsuk · 4 years
Text
Final Post ||
I spent most of yesterday evening and this morning just kind of mentally processing the actual closing of rookies after seven years. Seeing the amazing plans that would have come to fruition makes me a bit sad but also kind of happy that rookies ended where it ended. Thank you to the mods for prolonged effort to keep this rp running as long as it did and I am glad to have been here as long as I was. 
I first joined rookies six years ago on the 15th of October, 2014. 2014 and subsequently 2015 had been a chaotic formative years for me. At the time, I was in my third year of college, constantly questioning whether or not I should be doing my degree, watching my parents get divorced in the summer of 2015 and moving out of the house where I’d lived for twelve years. Rookies (at first through Sungjong in October and then through Kevin in March (03.04.2015) and Kris in April (04.29.2015)} was a writing escape and somewhat of a comfort. Over the years at rookies, I have grown, graduated from college with a business degree and ended up completely a different person then I was five years ago.  
My writing improved a lot and I can confidently say that it was mostly thanks to Rookies. I had been completely scared off writing after an English teacher bitched at me for my skills but thanks to rookies, I got more confident in my own skills. Sure, there’s been other rps before rookies and at the same time as rookies, but they had never lasted quite as long. Through the years, I have made some incredible friends through rookies and I am glad to have them in my life. You guys are genuinely the best and I’ll always love you. I have no intentions of ghosting any of you and hopefully, we’ll write again together somewhere else. 
Now, onto what everyone actually wants: rkmuses future and taking in the ideas and everything set out by Bianca in account, where they would end up?
rkxjongsuk: the trc vocal king, easter bunny, princess diva of youtube fame - formerly rkkevin 
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I know I always used to say that I wanted him to debut the most since he’s my oldest muse,  but in all honesty, he would have never fit in the idol bubble. Going off the ideas set out by Bianca, however, his future would have been pretty satisfying. 
He would have ended up staying in TRC (since he had signed his contract for the second time back in may) and debuting as part of the rkmonstax group with the other trc boys in early 2021 (most likely as their main vocalist). Jongsuk would have felt pretty accomplished by this, and had been ready for the idol life. However, he was not ready for the rules and restrictions that would come into play with the group.  
he’d always had a kind of laissez faire approach to everything and so the idol life is kind of shocking to him. it wasn’t what he’d fantasized it would be. so, jongsuk would probably become the first member to officially leave the group before their six-year contract would expire citing personal difficulties and mental health issues (three years and a bit after debut) 
During those three years with the group, however, he’d make a name for himself as the King of OST. He would have gone on to King of Masked Singer (making it to R2 and shocking everyone with the high note octaves), gone on to be one of the trainers on the Voice of Korea partnering with Dynamic Duo, and make multiple appearances on Immortal Songs (a la Kyuhyun). Simultaneously, he’d also be collabing with idols across companies, most notably fellow former mga 3 contestant Gyeoul of And*Roma and Jiyeon of HEARTZ. 
Upon his departure from the group, he moved back to San Francisco and resumed his Youtube life and career. He would still support the rest of the boys, as an international fan and would always buy up a lot of their cds to support and tell his followers to stream. However, being back in his element, Jongsuk would feel a lot more relaxed and a lot more comfortable. 
A few months after his return home, he’d gain a collaboration with Smashbox or Morphe for a makeup line and he’d release an eyeshadow palette, two lipsticks and three eyeliners with the branding Smashbox x Stark: Rave on Mad (an homage to his youtube name: starkravingmad). He’d most likely send it in packages to his best friends in Korea. Jongsuk would find success in other fields outside of music and delve into what made his channel tick and what made him the happiest.  
Eventually, I think, he would have found love (maybe in the form of another tall actor who was in school 2013 with him) and been a happy youtuber, taking constant new challenges all over the place and always stepping to his own beat. 
As for his friends, he would have definitely gone back to Korea for Kangjoon’s eventual wedding and Jiyeon’s eventual wedding as well. The invites to visit him in San Francisco, California would have been extended to all his friends and even in his busy schedule, he’d always find time to show them all around the city that he’d been born. He’d even always be happy to see his former groupmates if they came on tour to California and would always be the first one for the backstage/VIP passes. 
rkxrm: the kt chaebol, nsg’s main rapper and actor extraordinaire - formerly rkkris, rkkmh, minhyukxrk
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namjoon had always been the unwilling debut, since I honestly never saw him actually debuting before jongsuk and instead, here we are. he’s the established idol. 
With NSG’s debut having just happened, he would probably stick around as the rapper before KT began shoving him into acting everywhere. Most likely, would have ended up as leader of another subunit (maybe?) in the future putting that leadership expertise to the good use. After the first two successful comebacks, he would have gone into acting officially with the first main role on a web-drama as Cha Gihyun on A-TEEN. 
His charisma would have definitely shined and stolen the screen time since he’s a former actor already. Following initial drama success, he would have tried his hand in modelling and endorsement, with Honda and Skool Looks. He would have gone further in modelling and acting, eventually becoming more known as the actor Kim Namjoon than the rapper of nsg. 
He would have had his share of crazy fans (mostly noonas, pretty girls and drama grandmas) and even probably taken the top bias spot for quite a few people when they would have found out his past. Of course, during the course of promotions (I envision this would happen during Regular-Irregular promotions), it come to light that he’s an actual chaebol (he’s never hidden it but netizens think this is a big deal) and the heir to Kim Securities with a former Canadian award winning actress as his mother. It also comes to light the dysfunctional family dynamic that he’d always had with them.  
It caused some hardship between him and his family but he had the support of nsg behind him (his ride or die brothers and family) but in the end his family did began treating him a lot better and he eventually gained their support. 
He would have stayed with NSG all through their first contract, but probably wouldn’t have renewed and most likely would have either gone to acting agency where he could focus on acting or go back to that chaebol life and actually fully embrace it as a future heir. 
In terms of his love life, he would have officially asked Jiyeon to date him at the Halloween party and they would starred in a few dramas side by side (Cinderella and the Four Knights being their first). They would kept secretly dating and eventually after their mutual dating ban was over, would probably reveal it in a cute couple shoot for Ceci or Dazed and Confused (like E Dawn and Hyuna). After Joon would have left NSG (post contract non renewal), he would have probably still kept acting and modelling alongside Jiyeon. NamYeon would have been a lot like the Rain/Kim Taehee acting and visual power couple. 
He would have definitely still kept in close touch with the rest of nsg (since they’re like brothers) and even with all his former kt friends, loving the time that he had spent in the company. 
rksxngyeol: nova’s artist, the mangaka 
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sungyeol had been an incredibly refreshing muse to write. he’s always been someone who actually doesn’t want to debut and he just wants to draw. i initially got him because minhyuk (joon) and jongsuk were getting really exhausting.  
there’s not much to say about sungyeol’s future. his contract with nova would have expired in november and he would have left the company on his own terms with the two years behind him. he learned a lot during those two years at nova and even realized a lot about himself. 
following his contract expiry, he would have asked his boyfriend (myungsoo) to move in with him over christmas with a key in a box  attached to a black butler keychain. if the other said yes, then the new year would have kicked off with the duo moving and cooking together and spending time with each other. 
sungyeol would have resumed drawing manhwa and mangas, combining his webtoon comic into a more professional looking five volume manga series with the same title. eventually he would have gotten an anime deal again and even a live action deal on his works (if your muse would have wanted to be in the live action of the Princess’s Sword, go for it). That would have propelled his family to actually recognize him as a talent and he would have been reinstated into the family. 
This would have led to myungsoo officially meeting Sungyeol’s family. His parents would have loved him to bits and his grandparents would have been iffy on it, but  his grandmother would end up dying three years after of heart attack and his grandfather would have followed her a year later of old age. 
After having dated Myungsoo for about five years, Sungyeol would have proposed to him and they would have most likely gotten married on the beach while on vacation somewhere warm. (we love a happy ending ;.;)  Also, he would have moved into a bigger house and brought Haebin with them so that they could be a cute happy family. 
Eventually, he would have come back to work for Nova as a producer and creative direction artist under Wendy as CEO (if that would have happened), and if not, he would have taken over his family’s company despite the lack of education and simply learned on the job. (Can I say that he would have been Myungsoo’s sugar daddy at some point even though they would be married or engaged at this point???) 
Thank you for reading to the very end and I love you all. Let’s stay friends and meet again in another rp. 
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waejinyoung · 4 years
Text
Can’t Swim - EP . 8
Can’t Swim 8
word count: 3.2k+
a/n: you might be questioning where I have been for the past couple of months. I have one word to say that should be a good enough answer. College. I’ve been studying none stop and found no time to write the next episode after university started. The posts will no longer be regular so just keep yourselves updated. Hopefully I will have another 2 episodes up between now and the end of the year at least but don’t quote me on that. I hope you enjoy! 
I’m deeply sorry for my absence again x
warnings: nothing
EP . 1 , EP . 2 , EP . 3 , EP . 4 , EP . 5 , EP . 6 , EP . 7 , EP . 8 , EP . 9
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THIRD PERSON POV
The afternoon continued with Y/N and Jinyoung discussing life and getting to know one another whilst Y/N replied to her emails.
“It’s mind b-boggling how you and J-Jackson may have crossed paths back in 2012…” Y/N had just mentioned how she was training for the London 2012 Olympics to compete for swimming.
“Similar to Jackson, I switched career paths and decided to study architecture. Dad wasn’t the biggest fan until he saw the passion and success I had gained in the industry. He soon came to terms with everything.”
“Wow… do you r-regret it at all?” The clock marked 10:30 pm. You guys had been talking for the past 90 mins, getting to know each other.
“I think I regretted not swimming after deciding to study architecture. I didn’t choose to not compete in the Olympics because I no longer liked swimming so I do regret not continuing although I must say, studying architecture might be the most time consuming degree out there. That’s why later on I decided to apply to become a licensed swimming teacher to undergo lessons. I’d be teaching people how to swim whilst fulfilling my love for swimming.”
“Best of both w-worlds, r-right?”
“Exactly.” Y/N had now placed all her work to aside with her back against the wall, legs crossed enveloped into the conversation.
Some seconds went by and Y/N wanted to know about Jinyoung’s initial dreams.
“What about you? Did you always want to be a singer?”
“Always. I took up d-dance lessons when I was around 15. Then went to a-audition and got in to JYPE. That was when I met J-Jaebeom. We actually d-debuted together as a d-duo group called JJProject to later on d-debut with the r-rest of the g-guys as GOT7. Since t-then they’ve been my f-family rather than just my m-members. I think it’s g-getting to the p-point where I might have spent m-more years of my l-life with them then I did without. Time flies…”
“I could definitely sense the brotherly love you guys all have for each other. So how did becoming an actor happen?”
“I r-requested from the c-company to find roles I could take part in a couple years b-back. First it was small roles in small d-dramas and then being c-casted by more known d-directors to p-play bigger roles. All of that has l-led me to play s-second male lead for ‘When My Love Blooms’.”
“When do the episodes start airing?” Y/N had grown eager about Jinyoung’s talents.
“Hold your h-horses… we haven’t e-even started f-filming yet and won’t be until I r-recover… The original airing d-dates will probably be p-pushed f-further.” Jinyoung’s words drifted into a sudden realisation for his career.
“If only-“ Y/N was about to blame herself again.
“We’ve been through this m-multiple times Y/N. None of this is your f-fault so s-stop blaming yourself for t-things you have no c-control over.”
Y/N had her mouth open ready to retaliate but if she had to be honest… she couldn’t be bothered to fight back considering it was now coming up to 11:00 pm.
“Fine.” Y/N yawned and covered her mouth. Work had been extremely busy today especially with all the news floating around now.
“S-someone’s tired.” Jinyoung eyed Y/N’s tired state and decided to call it a night.
“I still have so much to do. I can’t fall asleep now.”
“C-could you n-not spare an e-early n-night just for t-today?” Y/N recollected her thoughts weighing up if she could possibly sleep early tonight and get all the work done tomorrow.
“I could…”
“Problem s-solved then. Clear up your b-bed and get your pjs on. I d-don’t want to f-face a t-tired Y/N tomorrow m-morning.” Y/N eyed your mean comment and huffed to your orders.
“Yes, sir.”
2 WEEKS LATER
Y/N’s POV
“Miss, Jinyoung has been recovering quicker than expected. He should be perfectly fine to attend the event. If anything unsettling happens you can give me a direct phone call.”
“Thank you so much Doc.” You gave the doctor a large smile and she reciprocated a reassuring smile.
You entered Jinyoung’s room with your outfit for the architecture awards festival along with you.
“Am I allowed to come?” Jinyoung asked as soon as you entered the room. You gave him a nod.
Jinyoung’s voice was more or less back to 100% and his eye had completed healed by the end of last week. There wasn’t much left until being fully recovered. Possibly parting from the hospital quicker than the original 2 months the doctor had estimated.
“I knew I’d get the green light. I even prepared my outfit because I was so sure I’d be able to come.” You hadn’t seen someone so ecstatic for an awards festival.
“As expected… I’m not even surprised. Will you be able to get dressed? Need any of my help?” Jinyoung was still a little instable since he’s been lying in bed for the past 2 weeks. His legs tend to give out for the first 30 mins.
“I think I can manage. I’ll get dressed quickly and then the bathroom is all yours.” You chuckled at his assumption that you’ll take really long in the bathroom for the event.
Jinyoung heads towards the bathroom and you are left there practising a speech you’ve written for all the awards you and your company have been nominated. This isn’t because you knew you were going to win any of them but… the unprofessional scenes if you guys were to win an award and to not have a speech ready daunted you. There was nothing wrong with being prepared.
15 MINUTES LATER
You must say… I don’t think you had ever laid eyes on someone so handsome in your life before. You could swear that this man was carved by God himself.
“How much deeper are you going to fall into my looks?” You hadn’t realised but you had been staring Jinyoung up and down for the past 30 seconds of him leaving the bathroom. Hair all styled. The suit was literally made for him. His cute bow tie was a little wonky leading you to let out a chuckle.
“What?” Jinyoung’s face turned serious thinking something was wrong with how he looked.
“Your bowtie is wonky.” You stood up from your seat and reached out to fix his bowtie. Your eyes were fixated in straightening the bowtie and all Jinyoung could do was analyse your face and how focussed you were.
“There you go. Looks better now.” You lightly let go off the tie and looked up at Jinyoung who was already staring right back at you. Those bambi eyes were going to be the death of you.
“Thank you. Now go and get yourself ready.” He pinched your nose and then you entered the bathroom with your dress, makeup bag and accessories.
20 MINUTES LATER
“Jinyoung~~” You called out for Jinyoung. You were done with everything but couldn’t reach the zipper on the back of your dress. You had been procrastinating on what to do and just gave up. There’s no way you could zip the dress up alone.
“Yes, Y/N. Is everything alright?” You could hear his footsteps come closer to the bathroom door.
“In a bit of sticky situation… could I ask you to do a favour?”
“Sure, what is it?” You went ahead and unlocked the door for him. He took a step back and couldn’t contain the sight in front of him. You were in a red bandeau strapless dress which had a structured skirt that was shorter at the front and longer at the back with. A very slight trail. Unsurprisingly your makeup was the bare minimum and you had left your natural hair out. His mouth was agape as you stepped out of the bathroom.
“How much longer are you going to stare for Mr Park?” He had been in the same awe you was when he had stepped out of the bathroom earlier on.
“Yes…right… the favour?” His soul re-entered his body trying to compose himself. You could only smile on the effect you had on the prince himself.
“I can’t reach my zipper, could you zip up the back of my dress for me?” You saw his cheeks blush a light pink below the thin layer of bb cream he had on. Without the zip done neither of you were going anywhere so he had to do it.
He wasn’t able to give a verbal response and just nodded. You turned around to have your back facing Jinyoung. He moved your hair to aside exposing half of your back to him. He was blushing so hard right now and was happy to have you facing away from him even though in a matter of seconds you’d be facing him seeing the shades of red planted on his cheeks. Jinyoung gently placed one hand on the zipper and the other hand on your back holding the fabric of your dress still. His fingers grazed your skin and they were a little cold leading you to jolt a little by the surprising cool touch. He notices.
“Did I hurt you?” His voice was a little worried. The slightest worrying reaction you make, and he’s so concerned. He’s too sweet.
“Nope, your hands are just a little cold that’s all.” You say whilst you chuckle.
He apologises with his soothing voice and zips up the dress, letting out a quiet done when finished.
You turn back round and thank him for his kind gesture. You also noticed the flush of his cheeks. He’s so cute, you thought. You quickly put your heels on and left Jinyoung’s patient room and entered the hall of the hospital. Expectedly, you guys received some stares and some whistles by the old women sitting outside their patient rooms. The event manager had organised a limousine to pick up each nominee for the awards hence why there was a lovely jet black limousine parked at the entrance of the hospital. The driver spotted you two and guided you the way and kept the door open for you two to enter the fancy vehicle. He ran back to the wheel and started driving towards the venue.
“Anything I need to know beforehand? Who should I present myself as?” Jinyoung had started with the questions during the car drive.
“Who’d you like to present yourself as Jinyoung?” You wanted to fish out his intentions from him.
“Preferably your boyfriend in order to stop those punks from hitting on you but I’d never want to force you into a relationship with me…” He side eyed you as he kept looking out the window. You so wanted him to be your boyfriend.
“Logical. Agreed. If anyone asks, you’re my boyfriend.”
“What an honour.” You slap his thigh due to his sarcastic tone.
“Whatttt? I’m serious. I’m going to be the boyfriend of an amazingly talented architect who’s bound to receive an award tonight. It’s a genuine privilege.” You could only look at him in awe as he described the so called ‘privilege’ he was taking part of.
“If you say so…”
The humming noise from the motor of the limousine was really calming but Jinyoung broke the silence once again.
“Are you nervous?” His tone was much deeper and serious compared to how he was a second ago.
“A little. These awards happen once a year and we’ve progressed so much as a company but so has everyone else in the industry. It’s hard to tell if we’ll be receiving the major validation from the institute. With or without the award tonight I’m so pleased with my company, but it would be nice to get a recognisable achievement for all our hard work.” Jinyoung listened to you as you let out your insecurities for the upcoming night.
“In the little amount of time I’ve met you, I think you’re the only person who deserves all the awards you’ve been nominated for this year. No one can change my thoughts and it’s going to be a pleasure to witness your achievement first hand. I can’t wait.” He rubbed his thumb over your knuckles trying to calm your nerves down. It was going to be a long night.
30 MINUTES LATER
Your limousine had rocked up to the red carpet laid out on the floor outside of the venue of the awards. You took a deep breath as the driver ran around to Jinyoung’s side of the limousine to let him out. Jinyoung agreed to open your door for you so he exited the vehicle first. Like he had planned, he went around to your side and opened the door for you to step out. The cameras started capturing every single moment as you wrapped your arm around Jinyoungs, and he gave you a reassuring nod. You gave him a smile and the two of you walked towards the entrance of the building slowly as you waved to the cameras and press greeting the two of you. The cameras were close to blinding, but you pulled through until reaching the entrance where the bodyguard escorted the two of you to your spaces in the main hall.
The building was full of white and gold decorations. You could definitely tell that the theme was highly influenced by Greek culture. The budget of the awards keep growing as the number of sponsors increase. The bodyguard escorted you to the table that Beck was already sat at with his fiancé. Beck realised your presence as well as Jinyoung. He stood up to give you a hug and shook Jinyoung’s hand. Beck’s fiancé shook both of your hands too and took your seats.
“The famous Mr Park. It’s nice to meet you in person. I’m Beck, the other shareholder.” Beck gave Jinyoung a warm smile.
“It’s nice to meet you to Beck. It seems like you already know of my name, but I’ll reiterate for the norm. My name is Park Jinyoung, you can call me just Jinyoung.” You let out a scoff because of how formal Jinyoung was being with Beck.
“He’s younger than you so you can ignore the formalities.” You said to Jinyoung and then Beck and him opened the conversation about age and their Chinese zodiac signs.
The evening began at 7:30 pm with the award winners due to be announced at 9:00 pm. Until then there was butterflies in your stomach ready to be set free any minute now.
Jinyoung came closer to your ear and whispered, “Loosen up a little. There’s no need to be this tense. Here hold my hand.”
Jinyoung offered his hand and you took it immediately as he gestured his open palm. Your hands were tiny compared to his manly hands. They encompassed all your digits giving you’re a sigh of relief because of the security they exerted. You let out a large sigh and continued with the discussions on your table with the new clients that were interested in your company. Having Jinyoung at the event really helped scare away the useless men who would only be interested in your physique and nothing more. His presence filtered out all the nonsense that would usually be taking place at the table.
The clock finally struck 9:00 pm and everyone went back to their designated seats in order for the awards to be presented. The event holder went through all the minor rookie awards to then move onto the company categories.
“Here are the nominees for Best Project of the Year.” The event holder signalled to the larger screen behind him as the nominees including your company are mentioned in no specific order.
“I was personally really fond of this project myself too. The meaning behind the design and the immense detail put into the façade really makes me excited for the future of this company. I’ll stop blabbing on and open the envelope.” You looked at Beck and then back at Jinyoung who was really eager to know the result.
“The award for Best Project of the Year goes to…” The event holder lifts the flap of the envelope and takes out the white sheet of paper inside. You hold your breath waiting for the result to be spoken.
“The Chamberlain project, designed and constructed by Chevrel Architects.” The whole community around your table started roaring and cheering for you and Beck to claim the award. That was one award written down in the books for Chevrel Architects, a company you and Beck had started years back. You and Beck had decided that if this award was given to you guys then he’d give the speech for it. Beck was the reason for the Chamberlain project happening and hands down you could state it was because of him the project turned out well. You, Jinyoung and everyone else in the hall stood up clapping as Beck walked up to the stage and shook hands with the event holder along with receiving the award. He then walked up to the mic and started his speech.
“I’d like to first start off with a large thank you to everyone at Chevrel Architects. The amount of hard work that was put into the Chamberlain project is indescribable, without everyone’s help it wouldn’t have been possible to achieve such a great outcome. I’d like to also thank Y/N for coming on this journey with me and trusting in me when I said that this company will create its own legacy. This is only the beginning…” Beck continued to thank more or less everyone he knew and came to an end with another roaring applause by everyone.
He jogged back to your table and you admired the award he placed on the table. You felt Jinyoung squeeze your hand in encouragement for you to realise how much you guys are capable of although he still knew you were a little iffy because the individual architect awards hadn’t been announced yet. You couldn’t help but smile at the gleaming object right before your eyes. Having received this award you doubted that another award would be given to someone of the same company.
Minutes went by and the event holder had reached the most awaited award of the night. Architect of the Year. You were surprised that you hadn’t left to use the restroom to throw up all this anxiety already. You were so ready to go home and relax. You wanted your normal heart rate back. You looked at Jinyoung and he gave you a look that melted your heart in seconds. He started massaging your knuckles with his thumb again and you could feel your body ease into his touch. The event holder for the last time of the night directs our attention to the screen for the listing of the nominees. Beck unfortunately wasn’t nominated so he was rooting for you to win the award.
“I know for many of you this is probably the most important part of the night. I’d like to first mention that to be able to be nominated for this award is ana achievement in itself so, you architects should all be proud of yourselves. It was a very hard decision that the committee made but we were able to make a decision. The award for Architect of the Year goes to…”
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I think it was mean of me to have ended this episode here, but it is 2:30 am right now as I write this episode. I hope you guys liked this episode. I shall be back somewhat soon so make sure to come back to check if an episode has been uploaded. Like always let me know your opinions on the story line and check out the other episodes if you haven’t. It would be nice to get some feedback :)
See you next time
writer-nim x
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hockeylvr59 · 4 years
Text
Life Changes Part 10 || Paul Bissonnette
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Author's Note: So this one was tough for me because Paul’s head is a tough nut to crack so go easy on me. This is from his POV because I felt like we needed some insight as to where he stood in all of this because so far we’ve only see Leigh’s thoughts. Let me know what you think. We’re covering quite a bit of time fairly quickly now. In fact, there’s probably only 1 more chapter before the event everyone has been waiting for happens *hint hint*. Also, I updated the playlist for this story so feel free to go take a listen and let me know what you think and feel free to send me any songs that make you think of Leigh and Paul because I’d love to hear them. 
Requested: [ ] yes [x] no       Warnings: swearing      Word Count: 2,389
_________
Paul’s POV
“Only the wisest and stupidest of men never change.” 
Something had been different with Leigh since the awards but I couldn’t put my finger on what had changed or why. We still talked almost every day but where before she would be an open book, now it seemed like a glass wall was between us. Knowing that she would reach out if she needed me, I came to the conclusion that it was something to do with the pregnancy and tried not to dwell on it. 
Hopefully, this trip would make not dwelling a little easier. Thanks to some networking at the Awards and a little help from CCM, we’d finally landed our white whale for the podcast. And not only had we secured Crosby, but we’d also gotten MacKinnon as well. Having arrived in Nova Scotia yesterday, Whit and I were slotted to face off against the local duo in a round of golf, dinner on the line, before sitting down to record the interviews. 
It was a gorgeous June day on the course, and I was absolutely buzzing. This was potentially the best game of golf I’ve ever played in my life. But before we had even finished the front half of the course I was already being accused of being a sandbagger...fucking ridiculous. Nate was getting all sorts of worked up while Sid just laughed saying they’d have to wait and see what the back half brought. 
Needless to say, the second half didn’t go as well as the first...the damn yips taking over. Though we’d had the lead and secured dinner, for some reason Whit felt like giving the losers a second chance to redeem themselves so it was determined that we were only up 1 hole with two remaining. Whit came up just short for birdie leaving us square to start the 18th hole. 
Just as we reached the final tee, my phone rang, Leigh’s picture filling my screen. If it had been anyone else I would have ignored it but there was no way I could ignore her so I grabbed my phone and stepped slightly away as I answered. 
“What’s up?” I questioned. “We’re on the 18th hole with Sid and Nate.” Before she even responded I could hear the hitch in her breath and my heart raced with concern for why she would be crying, though lately, it didn’t take much to make her cry...pregnancy hormones. 
“I forgot.” She admitted, her watery voice cracking. 
“It’s fine. What’s up?” I repeated my question, my stomach twisting as I waited for her answer. 
“It’s a girl.” She whispered. Immediately my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest.
“What?” The word slipped out while my brain was rushing to process. 
“Dustbunny...she’s a girl.” I had totally forgotten that Leigh had a doctor’s appointment scheduled for today. Without even realizing it, tears had pooled in my eyes and I let out a shaky laugh as I tried to blink them away. Deep down I knew that she was hoping for a girl and so I knew just how much this news meant to her. 
“That’s incredible.” I finally managed my throat tight. “Congratulations.” Though the concept of her really having a baby had become more concrete for me in Vegas seeing her bump, now it really did feel real. In just a few months there would be this little human who looked like her mom hanging around and the thought of that was almost too much. 
With Whit calling my name from the course, I signaled for him to give me just a minute but it was clear that Leigh heard it and she murmured that I should get back to the game. But before she hung up she made one final statement. 
“You can tell the guys if you want. And uh...let them know I’ll make a public announcement in the next couple days but to keep it to themselves until then please.” 
“Course.” I murmured, my brain still operating mostly on autopilot as it worked over the news she’d just dropped on me. “I uh...I’ll talk to you and dustbunny later.” 
“Yeah.” She agreed. “Now go have fun.” She added just before the line went dead. Frantically I tried to pull myself together, wiping at my eyes and pocketing my phone.
It was my turn up at the tee and as I tried to focus, laughter came at me from all directions. Whether it was the laughter or the thought of Leigh and her daughter racing through my mind, as I swung at the ball I sliced it way left and the laughter took full force. 
“Fuck off okay,” I mumbled, moving to sit on a bench, my nails scraping over my scalp. 
“What the fuck was that?” Whit demanded. “You take one phone call and make the worst shot of the day?” There was nothing but silence as we made our way down to the green and as we waited for Sid to putt Whit looked over at me. “Everything okay?” He asked, voice calmer. “I’m assuming that was Leigh.” 
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Everything’s good.” Whit looked at me skeptically before taking his turn and after sinking his putt for the win he paused. 
“Okay, Biz...spill.” He stated, leaning against his club. “You’ve been all hyped up all day and now you’re quiet. What was that call about?” 
“She’s having a girl.” I breathed, tossing my club back in the bag before reaching for a bottle of water to try and calm my still racing heart down. 
“Who’s having a girl?” Nate inquired, clearly confused by the statement. 
“Leigh. Our business manager.” Whit explained. “That’s awesome, I’m sure she’s over the moon.” 
“Wait...she’s pregnant?” Sid asked, having obviously paid no mind to her growing bump when they met just a week or so ago. 
“Yeah. It’s complicated.” I expressed. “And she is over the moon. She was crying over the phone.” I added, once again scratching my head. It was left unspoken, but not unnoticed by Whit that I had been crying over the news too and we made our way over to a little cafe to record both interviews, my mind gradually refocusing as I focused back in on hockey and the world surrounding it. 
~~~
It wasn’t until we were a few drinks into a delicious dinner courtesy of Sid and Nate that Leigh was brought up as conversation again. 
It had happened casually, Sid inquiring as to what we had upcoming for the podcast. Whit went into a ramble on the secret project we’d been working on for months, a Pink Whitney vodka, and how we had a launch party for that planned for Labor Day weekend. Then RA brought up how each of us was working to pick up some of the management job duties so that Leigh could have a proper maternity leave when the time arose. That triggered Nate inquiring about the whole baby thing and I quickly had to vaguely explain that Leigh wasn’t with the baby’s father and that we were close friends because she’d been with me in Arizona when she found out. 
We’d just downed another round of drinks when Whit threw the first real punch. 
“So Biz….when are you going to tell her you’re in love with her?” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about...we’re just friends.” I lied, doing everything I could to keep my facial expressions neutral. 
“That’s bullshit and everyone else can see it besides the two of you.” He tossed back. “You look at her like she’s the goddamn stanley cup. I haven’t seen you even look at another woman in months. If you aren’t talking about work you’re talking about Leigh and the baby so stop playing. You’re in love with her.” 
If it weren’t for the drinks I’d already consumed I probably wouldn’t have admitted to anything. But with the drinks, I felt my palms start to sweat and my filter let a few too many thoughts slip through. 
“Of course I love her,” I mumbled. “She’s smart, she’s funny, she’s absolutely stunning, and she has one of the biggest hearts I’ve ever seen. She’s handled everything thrown at her with far more grace than I ever could have and she’s going to be an absolutely incredible mom.” Downing the rest of my last drink I sighed heavily. “But we’re just friends and it’s going to stay that way.” 
“So you love her and you obviously love her baby...what’s the fucking problem?” Whit pushed. 
“The problem is that she deserves more. Better.” At those words, every head at the table turned to look at me. 
“What the fuck does that mean?” RA questioned, his tone brusque. 
“It means that she could do so much better than me. I don’t exactly have the best reputation with women or in general. She deserves someone that can match her in intelligence and who won’t fucking stain her name with his own. She deserves someone who isn’t mentally fucked up...who doesn’t experience episodes where he can barely take care of himself let alone her and the baby. She deserves stability.” 
After spilling out all of the reasons why friends was all we were ever going to be, I expected some resistance, what I didn’t expect was Whit to bust out laughing at me. Glaring at him I clenched my jaw and he just shook his head. 
“You’re a fucking moron Paul. You’re making excuses as to why you aren’t good enough for her and she’s making excuses as to why she’s not good enough for you when in reality you’re perfect for each other.” 
“What are you talking about?” I pressed, swirling the ice in my glass aimlessly. 
“I’m talking about the fact that she told Brie she didn’t think that you’d ever even have sex with her because she’s not your type. She minimizes anything you feel for her proclaiming that it’s just the baby you’re attached to. She thinks that all you’d ever want to be is Uncle Paul so how could you possibly want to pursue more when a relationship with her would come with the baggage of a baby that’s not yours. She’s just as insecure as you are….but I guarantee you that the way you’re shaking your head about the things she’s worried about would be the same way she’d react to the things you’re worried about.” 
It baffled me to think that Leigh thought I wouldn’t want her. At the same time, I couldn’t help but wonder if that expression meant that she actually did want me. For a while, conversation traveled back to less serious topics but before we headed back to the hotel for the night Whit pulled me aside one more time. 
“Look I get you have your own concerns and that you’re worried about unnecessarily dumping something else onto her plate but don’t let either of those fears keep you from something that could be great. Now may not be the right time, but I’ve seen the two of you together and you both bring out the best parts of each other...so just be patient and things will work out like they’re supposed to.” 
It wasn’t until I was settled into bed that I was able to watch the ultrasound video Leigh had sent me. Between that and dinner’s conversation, the moment that I closed my eyes, too many thoughts, thoughts of Leigh and the baby she was carrying, filled my mind making sleep impossible. Was it really possible that she felt the same way I did? Did I want to play a role more than Uncle in this baby’s life? Was she ready to move on after having her heart crushed not once, not twice, but three times? 
~~~
Just like she had said, Leigh dropped her pregnancy announcement as we were leaving Nova Scotia. Swiping through the photos I couldn’t help but be mesmerized at the way her bump had grown in the short time since I’d seen her last. She was very obviously pregnant now and though her photos only barely showed her face it was easy to see how much pregnancy suited her and how she was glowing because of it. 
Unsurprisingly the announcement garnered some attention both positive and negative. There were people both in her personal life and around the league that were absolutely thrilled for her. Then there were people that had very much jumped to conclusions as she expected they would and though there really wasn’t anything I could do, I was angry that I couldn’t protect her from their harsh words and suspicions. If I thought she’d let me, I’d chew out every idiot on the internet but deep down I knew that kind of attention would only make things worse. Instead, I focused on distracting her away from that content, asking questions about her plans for a nursery while trying to hide the feelings that were getting harder and harder to suppress.  
By the time her birthday arrived in the second week of July, I was determined to do something special for her. Though we were once again on opposite sides of the country I had been planning for her birthday since we left Vegas. In addition to sending flowers, I’d booked her a pregnancy massage session hoping to help alleviate some of the aches and pains she’d been complaining of. It didn’t seem like much to me but when she called after her appointment raving over how much better she felt, it was evident that my gesture was appreciated. Though I didn’t generally make posts for others on their birthdays, I felt compelled to share a few photos of the woman who had brightened my life up just by being a part of it. It was a little sappy but if anyone deserved it, it was her. 
Though we talked almost daily and her selfies came more frequently as dustbunny continued growing, I still found myself counting the days until I would see her in person next. And to be frank, it couldn’t come soon enough. I was completely screwed...but to be honest there was a part of me that knew that the moment I first laid eyes on her. 
Chapter 10 Social Media:
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sondpyo · 5 years
Text
𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙮𝙪𝙡 𝙖𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙤𝙮𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙
a/n: this is kinda long phew ,,, i just love hangyul tOo much :(( enjoy !!
warnings: !!!!cursing
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let’s put the jokes aside
hangyul is probably the best boyfriend ever
like
he just IS
he does everything to make you feel comfortable
he buys so you food
he gives you piggy back rides when you‘re too tired
just,,,,,what a man
he cares about you 24/7
and likes to baby you
squishing ur cheeks and kissing ur puckered lips is part of his daily routine
but we ain’t complaining
because who doesn’t want to get hugged and kissed by hangyul
lucky YOU
and let’s not lie here
when was the last time you wore YOUR clothes
yes bitch im talking to YOU
you hang out in hangyul‘s hoodies and shirts everyday you literally robbed this man
but he loves it ngl
only when he has to go out with his friends and his closet is just....
...... empty
so he always takes his things back
but the thief you are 🤫🤫🤫
„what’s inside that bag"
„my love for you“
„ haha,, lmao,,, put that shit back to where it was."
and u just 🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️💨
because what can he do haha
run after you and pick you up
haha
yea that‘s exactly what he does so why did you even try honestly
and he just picks you up and throws you onto the couch
but ur mad like how can you not let ur own gf succeed in stealing ur things
at this point hes just asking himself why he’s even dating you
but yk he loves you so what can he do
y’all raised a cat together
like
that‘s how you two even met :(
one day you were walking down the street on a rainy day when you heard a little ᵐᵉᵒʷ
so you were like hold tf uP and looked around
only to see a little kitten on the street being comepletely wet and lost
when you crunched down you just could feel sadness radiating from her
yes it’s a female 👀
you were about to cry ngl watching a sad kittie made you sad
so you picked her up
buT sissie was a little wild 🤥
she tried to climb up your chest so you had to use ur other hand too and let ur umbrella fall
„nO kiTtIe stOP ah shit we‘re both wet now“
but after some time struggling she kinda calmed down but was still moving
you were comepletely wet
the shower you wanted to take later ?????? already done now
as you wanted to pick up your umbrella
another hand reached picked it up and held it above your head
you turned around and saw an extremely good looking guy
„ive seen a lot in my life but never someone walking outside in the rain with their kitten“
he was obv amused by the situation
you looked down to the kitten
„she’s not mine i just found her“
as you wanted to grab ur umbrella back
he pulled it back and insisted holding it for you as you walked back home
he just saw that u didn’t know anything about cats
so on the way back he told you a lot about cats and everything and you kinda started talking
and u were patting her head
when u reached ur house u were kinda unsure of what to do
because u cant just pull up to your family like lmAo look what I found
„i cant just leave her outside again“
so he just took her
„I already have two so why not a third I guess“
„but i found her >:("
„but you cant keep her“
true 😔😔
so he gave you ur umbrella and hid the cat under his jacket
so when he was already going you were like somethings not right
so you yelled excuSE ME
and he turned around
so you ran to him and gave him the umbrella
„no don’t worry I don’t need it“
but you just shoved it into his hands and walked back
before you would open your gate and get in you yelled that he should take good care of her so you waved him and went in
and he honestly just stood there
that was the moment where he kinda fell in love with you I guess
in the next days he brought you u ur umbrella back and u asked him if u could visit boba once
( i had to crackle at that name ne ways)
and he obviously was interested in you so he was like suRE !!!!!
and you eventually also started falling for him
so here you are 3 years later
a happy couple
confirmed mom & dad of a cat
boba sometimes still kinda attacks you but whatever I guess
and he always tells that story his and ur friends saying that he thought u were crazy
when he literally thought u were cute since the first second he saw you wbk
his fav places to kiss you is your face
when ur being too overly cute in his eyes he just kisses ur cheeks like a 100 times
and when ur being sad or stressed he usually kisses ur temples
but hangyul litterally is your emotional support boy
when ur sad or crying he just hugs you and doesn’t let go
he sometimes cracks up some stupid jokes just so he can hear a small laugh from you which always works tbh
there just isn’t a day where he isn’t by your side when you‘re in the wrong place
but when your upset or mad he usually gives you a little space since he knows that people usually need to figure it out themselves first before they talk to others about it
but if you want him to be with you he’s there in a second
and you appreciate that a lot
you two are the crackhead duo everyone fears
the last time played mario kart with the rest of his friends it ended with you and him laughing about some dumbass shit AGAIN
everyone is just tired by now and sighs,,,,,,,,
„is it crack???????? is that what you two smoke“
but u cant unsee the little smiles they have after watching you two for awhile bcs ofc they are also kinda happy that he found someone he can have fun and be himself with
h e e h e e fun 😼😼😼 18+
just kIdding
im keeping this family friendly
but lemme dRoP thAt real quick
hes a dancer so he sure knows how to work his hips o o p 👀👀👀👀
moving ON
teases you
all the time
„you‘re so tiny can u even see something down there.“
„you kinda grew.“
„vertically.“
„that girl there is kinda pretty don’t you also think?“
and let’s just say
at this rate
his kneecaps are pretty much injured
but he doesn’t mean it like that
when he even senses that he’s going to far he simply kisses you and apologizes
personal hypeman
you don’t know iF you should wear that dress outside because you don’t feel pretty in it????
not with hangyul SWEETIE
hes like
👏🏻you 👏🏻are👏🏻slaying👏🏻that👏🏻dress👏🏻and👏🏻thats👏🏻on👏🏻PERIODT👏🏻
physical fights with him happen a lot and are normal
fun fights
cause my man ain’t abusive 😔
and ofc he wins
once he even threw you off bed
and u eventually hit your head
and he was literally caressing your head while trying to hold back his laughter
he calls it training for actual fights
smh
hes pretty much overprotective
and swears that he’ll never let you out alone in the dark
so you kinda doubt these fights he talks about will ever happen
but whatever floats his boat 🤡
this is getting long
should I just make a part two
. shit
okay over all
hes soft for you
like everyone at first is kinda intimidated by him because he looks really manly compared to other guys even you were
but when they see how he treats you and looks at you and smiles at you and everything it’s just kinda gone then 🥺🥺
he deserves an award as best boyfriend
he also deserves all the love he gives back
don’t let him down
because he wouldn’t do that to you either even if u had a big ass fight
juST FUXKING LOVE HIM
508 notes · View notes
francisp0rter · 3 years
Text
The Grammy Awards are Decadent and Depraved
By Blunted
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Before writing anything about the Grammy Awards, it should be duly noted that nobody really gives a shit. Everyone knows that the nominated artists are nowhere near the best the industry has to offer, but at the end of the day (8PM EST, to be specific) we all tune in to watch the big train wreck in the hopes that at least a couple of shining moments will come through. 
The whole thing was off to a bleak start when, in an astoundingly bone-headed move, the Grammys decided to relegate the Rap Album of the Year awards to the pre-show, forcing one of the greatest emcees who ever lived to accept his first Grammy nomination in complete silence. The argument in the Grammys favour is that none of the nominees are popular enough to warrant a spot on the main show, but that doesn’t seem to matter so much to the Grammys when they drag out H.E.R, who elicits a collective “who the fuck is that?” anytime she appears on screen. 
And even if it’s a case of the nominees not being popular enough, why nominate them in the first place? Freddie Gibbs and Royce Da 5’9 don’t need the Grammys, we already know that they’re two of the best poets this great genre has to offer. And Nas CERTAINLY doesn’t need the Grammys, as he’s gone his whole illustrious career without even receiving one. How are you gonna make him accept his first ever Grammy award off-air like he’s winning Best Classical Compendium or some shit? 
For the Grammys to nominate these incredible talents and then stick them in the pre-show is not only an insult but just downright fucking dumb. Letting Nas on the Grammy stage to accept his first ever award would have done a hell of a lot more to remedy the Weeknd boycott situation than having Harvey Mason Jr. come on screen and beg everyone not to be mad at him.
With that being said, the 63rd Grammy Awards were pretty god-damn weird. You could probably chalk the strange vibes up to the lack of a real audience and the battle-of-the-bands style layout the Grammys opted for, but that’s not entirely it. Something else was off, something nearly intangible. After about an hour of this uncanny-valley feeling, I realized where it was coming from: Trevor Noah. 
Possibly the least funny person on the entire planet Earth, Trevor Noah bumbled his way through over three hours of jokes that would have bombed even if they were performed at an open mic night in Tacoma, Washington. The only funny thing that left his mouth was, 
“Gobble me, swallow me, drip down the side of me. We’re back at the 63rd Grammy Awards,” and it was only funny because it didn’t make any fucking sense. 
Worst host of all time aside, the show ranged from pretty good to downright cringe-inducing, with some moments of greatness sprinkled in. Billie Eilish kicked the show off with a sleepy performance of her Record of the Year nominated track “Everything I Wanted,” in which she sang on top of a luxury car submerged in a cloud of smoke. Eilish, as always, left little to be desired and delivered her performance with the precision of a well-trained theatre kid. There’s an inherent starry-eyed quality to Eilish’s music, but her talents make it easy to look past. 
Haim’s blistering performance of “The Steps” was stellar. The group’s musicality was on full display as Danielle Haim led the track on drums and vocals, before quietly switching out with her sister Alana to take centre stage, proving once again that the best way to make a splash at the Grammys is simply by playing music and playing it well. 
Bruno Mars and Anderson Paak also gave two incredible performances as Silk Sonic. The first was a Soul Train-inspired rendition of their brand new track “Leave the Door Open” that looked like it was equally as fun to perform as it was to watch. Later, the duo took the stage and set the place on fire with a tribute to Little Richard. Anderson’s drumming was the highlight of the performance, and whoever was running the sound seemed to know this too, centring the rhythm section in the most prominent part of the mix. 
There were plenty of moments that were good, but not overly special that I’m gonna run through really quick here. Harry Styles came through and did his cool gender-bending thing. I really like “Watermelon Sugar,” I think it’s a perfect pop song, and I think Harry Styles is way too good to have ever been in One Direction. I’m excited for his next album and that’s all I really have to say about him.
Taylor Swift’s performance was excellent, and it was great to see her bring out Aaron Dessner and Jack Antonoff and give them the credit they deserve for helping her expand her sound on her stellar 2020 offerings “Folklore” and “Evermore.” 
Meg Thee Stallion, Cardi B, and Dua Lipa banged out some hyper-sexual performances that didn’t really seem to have a point other than being shocking. But the songs are nice and at least Meg can rap.
Oh, and Beyonce broke the record for most Grammys ever. Does anyone really give a shit about that? I thought it would be a bigger deal. 
The rap performances left something to be desired, which is an absolute fucking shame considering the emcees they had nominated in the Rap Album of the Year category. DaBaby came out and did his one flow, and then Roddy Ricch joined him, which was nice. Roddy’s solo performance was actually really great. He’s one of the first rappers I’ve seen play an instrument while rapping. Scarface is the only other one to my memory. Maybe Mac Miller, too. 
Lil Baby’s performance was, at first, captivating and powerful, but upon further inspection feels kind of weak, especially considering the weird diatribe from neoliberal grifter Tamika Mallory that he placed halfway through the performance. Re-enacting a police killing with paid actors was also a little tasteless in retrospect. Baby rapped his ass off though, and hopefully his performance will show clueless rap fans that trap music isn’t just a genre meant to soundtrack frat parties.
The worst performance of the night belonged to Post Malone, as it so often does. The Texas troglodyte appeared on stage in the worst Blade costume I’ve ever seen to deliver a dead-in-the-water rendition of his abysmally bad single “Hollywood’s Bleeding.” I remember there was a time when Post Malone’s whole thing was being this pop-crossover Bob Dylan type with rap aesthetics. I didn’t like it, but it was infinitely better than whatever weird gothic thing he’s doing now. 
All things considered, the Grammys were the Grammys. You can’t really expect too much from them. While the highs were really high, the lows were so unbelievably low that it was almost embarrassing. Before I sign off, I just wanna give another quick “fuck you” to Harvey Mason Jr. You’re the worst, man. 
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xx-thedarklord-xx · 5 years
Text
Thine Enemy is Sweet (Part 9)
Part One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight
Harry Potter to Sue the Ministry with Ex-Death Eater Boyfriend?
Harry Potter, the Wizarding World hero, has a pension for Slytherin men it would seem. Last night, lead reporter for the Daily Prophet, two-time award-winning Journalist of the Century, Melanie Turner, spotted Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy out on a date in Hogsmeade.
Malfoy was adamant about suing the Ministry over a perceived slight against Potter. With the lack of integrity he possesses, one would not be surprised if he did. With the new policies and procedures the Ministry has in place, and their strict attitude towards change, Malfoy’s hatred for the Ministry shows his true character.
Reliable inside sources have given insight into the unlikely duo. The start of their relationship has not been revealed but they seem to be relatively comfortable with each other. Hands had groped, lips too loose and smiles far too happy to be anything but real were seen.
Potter has never been too bright, but some would wonder what he sees in Malfoy. Especially when one considers the type of disposition the latter has. Opposites attract, but we are all thinking the same thing; should they?
Will Potter sue the Ministry alongside his troubled boyfriend? How serious is their relationship and will it last? Neither Malfoy nor Potter was available for commentary so only time will tell.
More speculations on page 3
 --
“Never been bright?” Harry scowled at the paper before he balled it up and threw it behind him on the floor. Turner was up there with Skeeter as his least favourite reporters. The Quibbler and the Daily Prophet had arrived together, both foreboding enough to make him paranoid. He wasn’t sure what to expect with Luna’s report but knowing her, it would surely be an experience.
 --
Harry Potter Taken in by Burrowing Amares and Fallen in Love?
Reports have been made that Harry Potter, most sought after Chocolate Frog Card owner, has recently fallen in love. The sources cited in those reports is none other than the Quibbler’s very own Luna Lovegood, Quibbler Journalist of The Year six times running.
It’s unclear whether Burrowing Amares were spotted with the happy couple or not. Due to the nature of the energy they release into the atmosphere, the chances are high. The Ministry refuses to admit the validity of the intelligent creatures but their knowledge on the matter has been widely documented as sources inside the Department of Mysteries have alluded to over the years with subtle gestures and exaggerated winks.
What the Ministry refuses to admit is, unfortunately, a list that would be too long to report on. Dacken Malfoy can attest to that if the rumours are true.
Will the Ministry ever admit the existence of Burrowing Amares? Is the Minister a front for Muggle Aliens? Has Dacken fallen in love? What really is the cause of love outside emotional dependency?
Find out more on Page 5
 --
Harry tried not to find it funny, he did, but, “Dacken.” Malfoy was not going to like that.
The sound of someone coming down the stairs had him leaning back in the kitchen chair to watch Malfoy enter the room.
“I’m going to kill Lovegood,” Malfoy grumbled, hair dishevelled, clothes the still mess from the night before. There was a red mark along his cheek, as if his hand had been pressed against his skin the whole night.
“Right after I kill this headache I have,” he finished with a yawn, arms stretched above his head. Harry was distracted by the way his hair stood up; it was almost like looking in a mirror.
“I don’t know, Dacken, I didn’t see anything wrong with the article.”
“I’ll kill you too.”
Harry didn’t doubt it, not with the way the temperature in the room spiked and Malfoy’s jaw tightened. It was chilling but way too amusing to back down.
“You don’t look that threatening to me, Malfoy.” He leaned forward across the table to where Malfoy was standing, arms crossed, and eyes narrowed.
“You’re lucky I need you,” Malfoy said as he plopped down on a chair with little to no grace. “Or I wouldn’t put up with you.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
There was silence as Malfoy’s brows furrowed. “Why? Did we do something last night? I think I’d have remembered that, I remember everything else.” He cocked his head to the side and his forehead wrinkled. “My arse doesn’t hurt, so if we fucked you might need some Murtlap Essence, my girth can hurt.”
“No we didn’t—wait—Murtlap Essence? Just how big are you?”
“Ah, so we didn’t fuck.” Malfoy picked up the Daily Prophet, one side of his mouth quirked upward.
“No, really,” Harry pressed, far too curious for his own good. “How big—”
“You want to find out?” Malfoy peered over the top of the paper, eyes twinkling in a way that was new. “I can show you.”
“Erm,” Harry flushed as he looked down at the table.
“I promise I’ll bite.”
“That’s not how the saying goes.”
“What saying?” Malfoy frowned. “I’m into biting.”
Harry snorted. “Oh, well in that case, no.”
Malfoy pointedly raised the paper until it covered his face in what Harry assumed was a silent snub.
“I hate Turner,” Malfoy grumbled before he began muttering too quietly for him to hear.
“I imagine a lot of people do.”
“I can’t believe I threatened to sue the Ministry.”
“It was very sweet of you,” Harry said with a straight face as Malfoy bent one side of the paper over to glare at him.
“You really do want to protect me,” finished Harry with fluttering lashes and a hand on his cheek.
“I will break up with you.”
“Draco—”
“Whoa,” Malfoy held up a hand before he stood up to rummage through Harry’s fridge. “We are not on a first-name basis.”
“You were the one who said you weren’t sure if I knew it.”
“Sarcasm, please learn the definition.”
When Malfoy shut the fridge with a grimace and settled on toast, Harry pushed away from the table and caged him against the wall.
“I know the definition,” Harry whispered, pleased to see the surprise on Malfoy’s face. “How could I not around you?”
“What are you insinuating?”
“That I never know what’s real with you.”
Malfoy’s eyes narrowed briefly before they widened in a way that made Harry uneasy. Hands slowly—far too slowly to not be calculated—trailed up Harry’s stomach up to his neck where they intertwined tightly.
“That’s the beauty of liars,” Malfoy leaned up till his lips were pressed against Harry’s ear. “The truth is often laid out, but no one can ever see it.”
“Which one of us is supposed to be the liar?”
“Oh,” Malfoy exhaled deeply, the sound almost delighted. “Now that’s interesting.”
A bite to his ear had Harry jerking forward in surprise.
“Looks like I’m not the only one who likes biting.”
The warning sound of his floo went off but Harry’s focus was solely on Malfoy. He tried not to think of what else Malfoy would bite.
“You can call me by my name when I get what I want.”
He knew it was bait, he did, but he couldn’t help but ask, “And what do you want, Malfoy?”
The slow creepy grin on Malfoy’s face and the way his arms tightened around Harry’s neck was concerning.
“I want what I deserve.” Malfoy tilted his head back, lips moving along Harry’s skin in the process. “I want more than I deserve. I want everything. I want it all.”
“I might—” He shivered when Malfoy nipped at his throat. “I might be the saviour, but I can’t get you all that.”
“Then don’t call me by name, Potter. That’s an intimacy you haven’t earned.”
“Earned,” Harry repeated, the sound far more breathless than he intended.
“You like earning things?” The grin he had previously turned into a smirk and Harry definitely regretted saying anything. “You like being good?”
Harry tilted his head away from Malfoy’s wandering lips. He wasn’t going to respond, nope, not happening.
“I think you’re already good.”
“Fuck.”
A low chuckle, more air than anything could be heard, and it had Harry closing his eyes. Fuck Malfoy.
“You like praise,” Malfoy stated confidently, as if it were a fact. “I can work with that.”
“No,” Harry shook his head. “You will not.”
The creepy grin was back, and it was ominous in the way that Harry wanted nothing to do with it.
The whoosh of the floo had him turning his head only for Malfoy to grip his chin and force it back.
“Maybe I’ll have you begging for it,” Malfoy’s teeth scraped his bottom lip and he wasn’t sure if it was a tease or if it was on purpose. “Maybe on your knees, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Yes, yes, he would. “No, I don’t—"
“Ah, fuck, not this shite again.”
The sound of Ron’s voice had Harry jumping slightly but he couldn’t move, not with the grip Malfoy had on him.
“Can you two do that elsewhere?”
“It’s my flat, Ron,” Harry said, eyes still on Malfoy as he tried to appear unaffected. The small quirk of Malfoy’s lips let him know he had failed.
“It’s not very hospitable,” Dean argued, and Harry knew that meant the rest of them were there too.
When Malfoy’s hands went lax, Harry was able to step back. “What are you doing here anyway?”
“What do you mean what are we doing here?” Neville asked as he sat on the couch, knees tucked underneath him.
“Where’s Finnigan?” Malfoy asked as he stepped beside Harry and wrapped an arm around his waist. 
“I told him we’d meet him at his house.” The satisfied smile on Neville’s face was enough to have Harry snorting.
The sound of the floo went off and out came a very frustrated Seamus.
“I want it to be known that I have the worst friends.”
“Whatever do you mean?” Ron asked, tone aghast. “We told you we’d meet here.”
“Liar,” Seamus pointed an accusatory finger at Ron before rounding on Neville. “I just know it was your idea.”
“It’s what you get for smoking my last batch of Belladonna leaves. You know how poisonous it is.”
Finnigan waved his hand back and forth. “I stippled most of that out.”
“That would still leave hallucinations,” Malfoy said. “Possibly leave you delirious too.”
“That’s the best part,” Seamus argued. “No one smokes Belladonna for their good health.”  
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” Ron interjected, frown on his face and hands on his hips. “Your last check-up was pants, I told you to lay off—”
“Oh Merlin,” Seamus groaned as he collapsed on top of Neville. “I didn’t come here for another lecture.”
“What did you come here for?”
Seamus lifted his head to stare at Harry incredulously. “What do you mean? You told us to come.”
“What? No, I didn’t—”
They all turned toward Malfoy with varying degrees of annoyance.
“Now that you are all here,” Malfoy clapped his hands together. “How about we continue with the plan?”
“You could have just sent your own Patronus and we’d still have showed up,” Dean said with a yawn as he too sat on Neville.
“Oi, get off me!”
“There’s no fun in that, Thomas.”
“Can we make it quick?” Ron asked as he checked the time. “I’ve got a nap scheduled in about a half-hour.”
“No.”
“I don’t like you.”
“I’m sure that will keep me up at night,” drawled Malfoy as he rested his head on Harry’s shoulder.
“You know what’ll keep me up at night?” Seamus asked, still on top of Neville. “What the bloody hell are you wearing?”
Harry could feel the heat of Malfoy’s cheeks and he hated that it was endearing.
“My students helped style him.”
“Certainly looks like it.”
“I’ll have you know,” Malfoy sneered. “That bright colours are in this year.”
“Are they though?” Ron’s eyes were squinted, and doubt was all over his face.
“I’ll be sure to let my students know,” Harry said as he arched his brows. “They happen to adore Malfoy.”
“Did he confund them?”
“Finnigan, I will kill you.”
“Can we move this along?” Dean talked over whatever comeback Seamus came up with. “I don’t have any naps scheduled but I do have to be at the museum later.”
Harry cleared his throat when it looked like Malfoy wanted to keep arguing.
“Alright, Weasley, would you still happen to be a part of your wife’s Equality Movement?”
Ron narrowed his eyes as he crossed his arms. “Yeah, didn’t know you knew about it.”
“Every pureblood does,” Malfoy mumbled. “Usually, it’s made fun of in private.”
“Charming.”
“Your job for the party is recruitment.”
Ron looked around the room before he theatrically cleaned out his ears. “Pardon? You want me to recruit bigoted blood purists into an Equality Movement?”
“We both know no one will sign up for it.”
“Right, so why bother? Why waste my time?”
“You are a distraction,” Harry said with a little laugh. Malfoy was smart. “You get to harass them about their choices while we have the rest of you do something else.”
“Excellent,” Ron’s grin was bordering on a smirk and he almost worried for the people at the party.
“What about me?” Dean asked. “I can’t just be the person who brings in the painting.”
“I have something special for you, Thomas.”
“Oh God, why does that make me nervous?”
Malfoy pulled out his wand as he fished out a small box from his robe pocket. With a swish of the wand, the box expanded up to Harry’s thighs.
“What the hell is in that? It’s massive.”
“This is where I keep Bandit.”
“Bandit?” Neville asked warily as he clung to Seamus and Dean. “It sounds foreboding.”
The box required a key and Harry had to agree with Neville. What on earth needed to be locked in?
“Bandit isn’t as sweet as he looks, so don’t let him fool you.”
The warning had Harry taking several steps away.
“I keep him in here for his safety. The box is charmed on the inside, so no worries, he has all he needs.”
“But what exactly is he?”
Ron had his wand already raised and his other hand covering half of his face. Harry was tempted to pull out his wand too until Malfoy lifted a baby Niffler above his head.
“Oh, he’s so cute,” Harry cooed. “I want to pet him.”
“No,” Malfoy moved Bandit away from Harry. “I wouldn’t advise that. He doesn’t like people to see him.”
“See him?” Dean asked, head barely peeking over the top of the couch. “What do you—”
Bandit’s whole body started to change, and Harry couldn’t help but walk closer to investigate. The brown of his fur started to lighten in colour until it was a pale white that blended in with the wall.
Malfoy lowered Bandit to his stomach, where he cradled the Niffler in his arms and they all watched Bandit shift colours to match the gaudy robes. If one didn’t know that Bandit was there, it would be hard to spot.
“I’ve never seen a Niffler like that,” Neville pushed Seamus and Dean off him to the floor. “What happened to him?”
“He’s a special breed,” Malfoy tightened his hold on Bandit and Harry could have sworn he heard a low purring. “I got him off a Magical Breeder.”
“Which is illegal,” Ron threw his hands in the air. “Why am I not surprised?”
“I saved him, okay?” Malfoy sneered “He was bred with a Fire Chameleon and no one wanted him.”
“With good reason,” Neville backed away towards Ron. “Fire Chameleon’s are outlawed in Europe.”
“Bandit only hurts people I tell him to.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Ron said, eyes on Malfoy’s arms. “Honestly it makes your case worse.”
A low whine left Bandit before a puff of fire left his mouth, a mouth that they couldn’t see.
“Ahh,” Dean was already on the floor, but the fire caused him to rush backwards so fast he got tangled in Ron’s legs.
“Oh, he’s hungry.”
“For what?” Seamus asked curiously from his spot on the ground.
“Same as all Nifflers,” Malfoy said slowly, as if Seamus was stupid. “Plants are his favourite.”
“I’ve got a little garden out back,” Harry said, trying to ignore the way Ron looked between them with narrowed eyes. “He can find something to eat out there.”
“You hear that, Bandit?” Malfoy whispered. “Food is outside.”
When Malfoy lowered Bandit to the ground, Dean let out a little whimper. Bandit changed to a light brown to match the hardwood floor before he zoomed to the back door where Harry opened it wandlessly.  
“Hagrid would like him,” Harry mused. “Exactly the kind of animal he’d enjoy.”
“Oh really?” Malfoy asked, eyes a little brighter than before.
“That’s not a good thing,” Ron argued. “Any animal Hagrid is interested in, is one that should be kept at arm’s length.”
The light left Malfoy’s eyes and Harry kind of missed it.
“What exactly am I supposed to do with Bandit?” Dean asked, still on the ground and behind Ron’s legs. “And why me?”
“You, Thomas, are going to let him loose inside the party.”
“What?”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“He’s a Fire Chameleon!”
“He’s kind of cute though,” Seamus said, eyes on where Bandit had left. “In a dangerous sort of way.”
“See,” Harry pointed at Ron. “Hagrid would say the same thing.”
“That’s not helping, Harry.”
“Shut up all of you,” Malfoy yelled. “Tell me something. If any of you sorry lot were Aurors, and we steal the ring, how easy is it to come up with suspects?”
“I almost became an Auror,” Ron grumbled.
“But,” Malfoy continued, ignoring Ron completely. “If everyone there is stolen from, there is no obvious target. No one will know that Astoria was our main mission.”
“Wait,” Harry shook his head. “I didn’t want to steal from Greengrass in the first place and now you want us to steal from everyone.”
“They’ll get it back,” Malfoy shrugged. “Mostly.”
“What do you mean mostly?” Ron asked.
“Yeah, and do I get any of it?” Seamus asked curiously before Neville smacked him on the back of the head.
“Ow, you fucking—” Neville smacked him again and the two began pawing at each other. “I’m just saying, I’m not getting paid a whole lot and I could use—”
“No, Seamus,” Neville argued. “We aren’t keeping their shit.”
“I don’t like this,” Harry said. And he didn’t. It made him uncomfortable. Part of him still believed that if he talked to Greengrass, she might just give him the ring.
“Well, you are the one who wanted the ring back, you get to pay the price.”
Malfoy’s eyes were cold and familiar. They could talk about it later; he wasn’t done with the discussion at all.
“Can Bandit steal without anyone noticing?” Dean asked as he stood up. “People are going to notice a fire breathing Niffler.”
“Not with the Chameleon blood in him,” Malfoy shook his head. “He doesn’t like to be stared at, the chameleon part of him kicks in on instinct the moment he is uncomfortable.”
“That only covers one aspect,” Neville argued. “Does he have experience stealing?”
Malfoy’s lips twitched and Harry was already concerned. “He might come to work with me.”
“You steal from your patrons?” Seamus’ mouth parted.
“Only the ones that refuse to tip my girls and are less than polite.”
“That’s—”
“Illegal, yes I know,” Malfoy rolled his eyes. “I think we’ve established by now that I’m not the best morally.”
“Have you ever had morals?”
Malfoy shot a stinging hex at Ron who yelped and rubbed his buttocks.
“Anyways,” Malfoy glared when Ron opened his mouth. “Bandit can do it and he can do it without getting caught. I’ve trained him to take more than just shiny things, he can wipe them clean.”
“Well, that’s just lovely. Remind me to never go to your club.”
“Who said you’d be allowed in Weasley? My club has standards.”
“Okay,” Harry held up his hands when Ron raised his wand. “That’s enough of that.”
“If Ron is the distraction, Seamus is the entertainment and Dean releases Bandit, what’s my job?”
“Ah,” Malfoy’s brows wiggled. “You, Longbottom, are very important.”
Harry rolled his eyes when Neville puffed out his chest.
“The Party Planner’s chosen Herbologist company has conveniently fallen through and they are in need of some plants.”
“How convenient?” Ron crossed his arms.
Malfoy’s nose scrunched up with how wide his smirk was. “I have my ways.”
“Merlin, you are scary,” Seamus mumbled. “It’s hot, but scary.”
“What kind of plants?” Neville’s thumb rubbed his chin. “I mainly grow plants used in potions and sell them to Apothecaries. I have my own personal greenhouses but not a whole lot for a party.”
“I want plants that stink.”
Ron’s forehead wrinkled and Seamus’ head tilted to the side as a silence broke out.
“What?” Neville snorted. “You want me to provide ones that smell?”
“The stronger the smell, the better.”
“The only plant I can think of that would smell bad enough is Witch’s Ganglion. It’s usually found in swamps. I have a few in stasis charms for the wealthier clients, the ones that refuse to travel to get it.”
“Perfect.”
One of Neville’s eyes was closed as his teeth sucked on his bottom lip. “The problem is the climate difference causes the bulb of the plant to wither. Without a stasis charm, the bulb of the plant will release fumes that are bad for the body.”
“I know,” Malfoy said, face emotionless and tone serious. “I need it.”
“You want to poison them?” Dean asked aghast.
Neville waved a hand back and forth. “The effects of the fumes are mild. Only repeated exposure is worrying. I’d say the worst anyone at the party gets is a headache.”
Headache. Harry frowned, something was niggling at the back of his mind, but he wasn’t quite getting it. When he looked up to see Malfoy’s eyes boring into him, he felt like he should know.
“Which is why I also want you to provide peppermint plants.”
“Oh,” Neville’s shoulders relaxed. “That will ease most of the effects of the plant.”
If the peppermint would counteract the Witch’s Ganglion, then why have either plants in the first place? Something else was happening, only Harry couldn’t figure it out. But the way Malfoy was still staring at him made him want to find out.
“That’s all I have for you today,” Malfoy said, eyes still on Harry. “Any questions? No? Good, now leave.”
“Actually,” Seamus piped up with a mouth full of whatever liquid he carries in his flask. “I still am not sure about what I’m supposed to do for the entertainment.”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
“That’s not helpful.”
Malfoy shrugged. “Never said I would be.”
“Some master planner you are,” Seamus grumbled as he made his way to the floo. “I have to do everything around here.”
“Merlin help us if you ever plan anything,” Neville said, stepping behind Seamus in the fireplace.
“That hurts, Neville. I’ve never been anything but kind to you.”
“Ha! That’s—”
Whatever it was, Harry wouldn’t be able to hear it as the floo turned green and the two of them were gone.
“You coming, Ron?” Dean asked over his shoulder, hand holding some floo powder. “We can stop at yours first if you’d like.”  
“Nah, you go ahead.”
“I’m going to go get Bandit,” Malfoy said with a curious glance towards Ron. “Be back in a minute.”
It wasn’t until the door shut behind Malfoy that Ron leaned against the fireplace and looked at Harry.
“Weird that Malfoy didn’t know you had a garden, huh?”
Harry looked at the ceiling as he debated what to do. He could admit the truth, but he didn’t want to hear the lecture, didn’t want to hear the reasons why it was all a bad idea.
“I spend a lot of nights at his place.”
“Do you?” Ron didn’t seem to buy it at all. “Not to mention Bandit came as a surprise to you.”
“Bandit is new, he would have told me eventually.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
“Is it supposed to?”
Ron huffed, head shaking and hands gripping his robes. “I’m trying to understand this; I am but it makes more sense that it’s all made up than to think you’d actually be with him.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It’s Malfoy.”
“Yeah, the same Malfoy who is my boyfriend, my partner.”
“I don’t want to be rude—”
“Really? Could have fooled me,” Harry closed his eyes as his fingers clenched. He didn’t want to argue with Ron. Not over Malfoy. Not when he was lying, not when the whole situation was a mess.
“You don’t know him, Ron. Perhaps that’s on me, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t question my choices.”
“You like him?” Ron asked seriously. “You truly like him?”
Harry looked at his feet as he thought about Malfoy. There was so much to Malfoy that he was wary of, so much that he didn’t trust. But there was a lot that was appealing, a lot that made him curious and made him stop to think.
Malfoy was a prick, an egotistical one who thought of himself first. But he was also a prick who offered to help Harry with funding, one who was kind to his students and wasn’t afraid to make a fool of himself around them. He was a prick who drunkenly declared to sue the Ministry on his behalf and one that kept smiling into his skin. Malfoy was a whole lot of contradictions. There was a lot Harry didn’t like but then there was—
“Yeah, I think I might.”
Harry jumped when he felt an arm circle his waist and his cheeks pinked in embarrassment. Fuck. Malfoy was never going to let it go.
“I think it’s time you go, Weasley.”
“Harry—”
“It’s alright,” Harry peered up at Ron. “I get it.” He could tell Ron wanted to say something, possibly even apologize but Ron glanced at Malfoy before throwing in floo powder.
Ron took all the noise with him and all that remained was silence. One that was stifling.
“So,” Malfoy began with way too much enjoyment. “I caught the end of that discussion.”
“Drop it.”
“And if I don’t want to?”
Harry turned to look at Malfoy and a small squeak left Bandit the moment Harry looked at him too and now the Niffler was the exact shade of Malfoy’s robes.
“You like me?” Malfoy teased, a small quirk of lips drawing his attention.
“How do you know I wasn’t just saying that to get Ron off my back?”
“I don’t.” Malfoy began to pet Bandit and a small purr could be heard. “Could be both or neither for all I know.”
“And yet you are cocky already.”
“That’s me,” Malfoy’s brows wiggled. “Always cocky and confident.”
“You’re wrong, I don’t like you.”
“I don’t know if I believe you.” Malfoy’s eyes were bright.
“I don’t know if I care.”
Malfoy took a step forward and Harry tried not to be concerned about Bandit.
“Harry.”
Harry sucked in a sharp breath. “Why do you get to use my name, but I don’t get the same courtesy?”
“Do you want me to stop, Harry?” Malfoy grinned when Harry said nothing. Loud breathing could be heard, and he knew it was Bandit, the breath was hot on his arms, far too hot to be normal.
“We can do fair,” whispered Malfoy. “I’m not good at it, but if you don’t want me to, I’ll respect that.”
With Malfoy inching even closer, words were lost on him.
“Is that what you want?” Malfoy prompted. “You want me to stick to surnames?”
Did he?
“No,” Harry admitted. “I don’t.”
“Harry,” Malfoy breathed, eyelashes glittering in the sunlight.
“Stop that.”
“You like it.” A small smile accompanied the statement and Harry didn’t want it.
“Maybe.”
“I want to know what else you like.”
“Maybe you’ll have to earn it,” Harry repeated Malfoy’s words back to him. He had to look away from the knowing glint in Malfoy’s eyes.
“I think I just might do that,” Malfoy said before he shrunk Bandit’s box and put it away. “How about you come see me sometime at the club.”
Harry arched a brow. “You want to spend more time with me.”
“Maybe,” Malfoy shifted Bandit to his hip before making his way to the fireplace. “Or maybe I want to give you a private dance.”
Harry choked in surprise and all he heard was laughter as a flash of green signalled Malfoy’s departure.
What did he get himself into? And did he even want to get out?
---
Hello! It’s been a bit longer than I’d have liked but I am here bringing you a 5k word update so there :P The beautiful and amazing @snortinglaughter was my beta. I love her. 
I hope you liked Bandit, he stole my heart the moment I thought of him and I just adore him to pieces 
I’m hoping the tag list works just fine, I am just copying and pasting it over. 
@biconpotter @ive-been-found @h2octopuppy @watermystic78 @its-soupin-time @a-couchpotato @meghansm @portiamarie02 @irishbeings @lilyinthebreeze @rumpixel @idgiedw @tommydarlin @dolewhipdreamer @trans-nik-sion @mistydeath @yourspookysoul @bubbleblower @renas @silver-mercurials @puffbts @jasmine-tw @victorieinthesmallthings  @gens-venturia  @unicornhair-core @orkedad @juju092118 @pilesofriles @drarryybabyy @sweetlialia @bughug1999 @thesimplethingsaresweet
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introvertguide · 4 years
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Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969); AFI #73
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The next film for review is one of my very favorite Western style films, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969). This is an incredible film that is directed by George Roy Hill and stars the charismatic colossi Paul Newman, Robert Redford, and Katharine Ross. The film won four Academy Awards including Best Editing, Best Cinematography, Best Score, and Best Song. The AFI ranked the male duo #20 on the 100 Greatest Heroes list and the movie was ranked the 7th greatest western despite arguably not really being a Western but a semi-biography that is set in the Old West. As American as this film is, it actually did the best at the BAFTAs where it won 8 awards from 9 nominations and swept the major awards including Best Film, Best Direction, Best Actor (Robert Redford), and Best Actress (Katharine Ross). Before singing any more of the accolades for the movie, let me break down the plot. Of course that means...
SPOILER ALERT!!! THIS MOVIE IS GREAT AND DESERVES TO BE WATCHED AND NOT SPOILED!!! STOP READING AND WATCH THE FILM IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY!!! IT IS GREAT TO WATCH FIRST AND THEN COMPARE TO HISTORY AFTER SO GIVE IT A TRY!!!
The film is set In 1899 Wyoming, and begins with a quick sepia toned introduction to the characters. The major players are the quick talking Butch Cassidy (Paul Newman) and the quiet and short tempered Sundance Kid (Robert Redford). The color corrects and the two are riding together back to see their gang and it turns out that one of the other men wants to take over. Butch wins in a fight for the gang leader position by cheating along with the help of Sundance keeping the others at bay. Butch retains his job but he does like Harvey’s idea to rob the Union Pacific train. This robbery takes place with a comical interaction between Butch and an accountant/safeguard named Woodcock. The robbery goes well and the two celebrate at a whore house while watching the local sheriff try to enlist men for a posse. 
This is the end of act 1 and it is punctuated by a musical number. This happens throughout the film. Butch rides a bike around to try to impress the lover of Sundance, Etta Place (Katharine Ross), after stealing her away in the morning before the Kid wakes up. It is quite unusual and stands out from the rest of the film as Butch is not the love interest of the woman and the bike does not show up again. The music number is “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head” by Burt Bacharach with an almost Benny Hill style circus outro. It really exemplifies the experimental nature of the film as the scene would likely have been cut today.
The train robbery went so well that the gang tries it again, but this time everything seems to be going wrong. Woodcock is coincidentally guarding the safe again and one of the passengers starts mouthing off. Butch is able to get into the safe car, but the safe is much thicker forcing him to use a bunch of dynamite to break it. He uses too much and blows up everything sending paper money blowing around in the breeze. To make matters worse, another train pulls up releasing a posse hired by the owner of Union Pacific. This posse kills two of the gang and chase Butch and Sundance into the mountains and the two can’t seem to lose them. They finally are able to jump off a cliff into a river and escape back to Etta. The two are worried that the posse is still coming so they take Etta and go to South America. Cue the end of act 2 so we have a fun musical travel montage. 
This is a travel montage shown through sepia tone still photos of the three going to New York and seeing the town before catching a boat south. Again, the music is far out of place for the genre and only works because of the overall experimental feel of the film. It is a very short interlude in slide show format and carnival music, but it does the trick and brings the group to Bolivia. 
On arrival, Sundance is not impressed at the conditions. They try to rob banks and are at first held back because of an inability to speak Spanish. Etta teaches them and the two men rob banks becoming known as Los Bandidos Yanquis (American Bandits). Here is another music interlude of all the successful robberies set to pleasant choir music that sounds like something out of an industrial instructional film, which tells the audience the mood is again about to change. After a while, Sundance becomes paranoid because he sees a man that looks like the leader of the posse that drove them out of America and the two decide to go straight and get jobs guarding the payroll instead of robbing it. Unfortunately, the are held up on their first job and Butch is forced to kill which he reveals he has never had to do before. Butch wants to have one more big score and Etta heads back north, sensing trouble with a return to crime, while Butch and Sundance complete a “jungle robbery” of the payroll.
The robbery is a success and the two take the money and the mule to carry it. This is a mistake because a local kid recognizes the brand on the mule and tells the police who also inform the Bolivian military. This is bad news for Butch and Sundance as they are pinned down in a small church by what seems to be a hundred Bolivian men. Butch makes a run for the ammo but both are shot in the attempt and it seems there is no way out. The two continue to banter about going to Australia after leaving Bolivia, but they both know they are done. They load up their guns the best they can and run out into the massive volley of fire and the frame freezes not revealing the final fate of the two. Roll credits.
This seems like a strange way to end a movie, but it mirrors the unknown fate of the real Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. The whole movie is pretty historically accurate as far as what is known about the lives of the three main characters, but the musical interludes and the quippy dialogue make the film feel much more fictional. The movie is also split into definitive chapters with music breaks so it really has good pacing. Fine visual story telling. 
There is a strong connection between Paul Newman and Robert Redford, which is apparent throughout the film. Paul is the amiable people-person who likes to talk and be friends with everyone while Robert liked to keep to himself and was all business. It just worked well. Director George Roy Hill used this dynamic again when he had both men star together in The Sting, which was even more successful and garnered 7 Academy Awards. A great connection and an example of a cinematic “bromance” in which two lead male characters act almost like a married couple. 
The film seems to be strongly inspired by the works of Sergio Leone like A Fist Full of Dollars; For A Few Dollars More; The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly; and Once Upon A Time in the West. It takes the western film and gives a more complicated plot, more stylized cinematography, and great soundtrack. The Leone films were shot in Italy and didn’t have all the restrictions that American films had in the 60s, so Hollywood looked to these films for content ideas when the Hayes code was finally replaced by the MPAA rating system in 1969. The major difference was American film makers had access to big name Hollywood actors and the actual American west. Also, Leone hired Ennio Morricone who used period piece instruments to give each character a theme while Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid was scored by a hipster and then shot in a way to try and incorporate the music. 
In American film history, the year 1969 was very experimental with the Civil Rights movement and the “free love” hippies affecting the box office draw at the same time. The former group preferred a more realistic filming approach while the latter wanted a more psychedelic fantasy. Many of the films blended both and America ended up with The Wild Bunch, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, Midnight Cowboy, and Easy Rider. It was a year of genre mixing and experimentation that makes for some fascinating film watching. Really embodies the turmoil of the country and the new age of Hollywood films. 
So should this film be on the AFI 100? Of course. It was experimental, influential, fun, and fascinating. It was perhaps the first “bromance” in Hollywood and a well established part of Americana. It also showed that context is completely unnecessary for a song to work in a film. Would I recommend it? How could I not? It is one of the few films that I have seen more times than I can count and still have not had to check the time while watching it. It is fun from beginning to end (sometimes weird, sometimes funny, sometimes dramatic action) and gorgeous to look at. It is a little anachronistic and abrupt with the music interludes, but engaging and enjoyable throughout. Definitely a film on the list that is more than just a time capsule or a lesson in film making (although it is that as well).
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gibelwho · 4 years
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Reflections on Authenticity: A Star is Born
Remaking a film that has been done three times before sets up a baseline challenge for a film’s success. Throw in a major actor’s directorial debut, casting a novice actor to portray the star, and you’ve got a film that is destined to either exceed its potential or completely fall apart. Thankfully, A Star is Born (2018), directed, co-written, and starring Bradley Cooper, alongside a headlining debut of Lady Gaga, delivers on many fronts - artistically, musically, and perhaps more importantly - authentically. 
Singer-songwriter Jackson Maine (Bradley Cooper) is a world famous, hard drinkin’ country artist who is just past his prime. After a concert, he meets Ally (Lady Gaga), who is performing at a drag bar; he is instantly smitten and convinces her to spend the night talking, where he discovers that she is a talented singer-songwriter herself. The next day, he flies her out to his show, where they perform the song she shared with him the night before. This performance kicks off her singing career, as well as their fiery relationship. As Ally’s star begins to rise, Jack’s descent into alcoholism becomes more apparent; despite their shifting paths, they decide to get married. However, their troubles only intensify, culminating in a drunken and embarrassing event at an awards show that lands Jackson in rehab. He successfully goes through the program and is welcomed back by Ally, but he ultimately recognizes that his addiction will only hold her career back, so he makes a choice to end his life. Ally, devastated, performs a tribute song to her man; his star has fizzled out as hers continues to shine brightly, although a bit diminished from heartbreak. 
Bradley Cooper set himself up for a double challenge in this film - directing himself in a lead role in his first directorial debut - and he rises to the occasion. His character spends the majority of the film on a spectrum of haze from being drunk or high and Cooper is able to capture this altered state, even showing the difference in his eyes; however, the heartbreak of the film wouldn’t work without his winning over the audience with his genuine heart. The performance is truly amazing, not only considering his significant amount of screen time, but also the majority of those in difficult and vulnerable scenes; he has set the stage for his future directorial career, even more notable if he can pull off this duo role additional times.
There are also stellar turns from other players, from Dave Chapelle to Sam Elliot, both who contribute to the film’s tone of being grounded in reality. More credit must be given to Cooper, who co-wrote the script and knew the story inside and out, but also has emerged as an actor’s director, understanding the language necessary to speak directly to his fellows. A highlight is the authentic interplay between Elliot and Cooper, who felt like true brothers with weighted history. Even after their falling out, when they see each other again at a loud venue, the way that Elliot’s character is conscious of Jackson’s hearing difficulties is such a small detail, but one that demonstrates the residual care and deep understanding of these siblings. Also, their final scene, where Elliot drives away after an emotional Jackson tells him a truth that was hard to say and yet means everything, the look on his face as he drives back in reverse...well, that is some good acting while operating heavy machinery.
And finally, the star of the show, Lady Gaga, a worldwide mega-star herself who must capture the journey of a nobody, rising star, and transformed diva, all in her first starring acting role. A herculean effort, but one that she pulls off with humor, strength, and vulnerability. The audience will surely be aware of her queen of pop status when entering into the theater - talented singer-songwriter with outlandish costumes (that include a meat dress), and songs with hooks that get stuck in your head for days. Lady Gaga herself has crafted her career on constructing her image and brand, clothing and making up her body with extravagant concepts and creating pop hits with a clearly studio produced sound; at the same time, she is an accomplished piano player, sings with skillful technique, and has collaborated on jazz albums with Tony Bennett - so her musical bonafides are also legit. This interplay between constructed image and underlying authenticity is at the heart of this iteration of A Star is Born, and Lady Gaga was perfectly cast, as her star persona and career is already a mixture of these two concepts.
The first time we glimpse Lady Gaga as Ally, she is performing at a drag bar, where she is dolled up on stage, performing La Vi En Rose. She catches Jackson’s attention, who is intrigued enough to visit backstage and, in an intimate moment, assists in taking off her fake eyebrows. She emerges from the dressing room as a subversion of her current star persona - she appears with no makeup, regular hair, and street clothing. Once Jackson pulls her onstage and ignites her career, Ally has transformed into the Gaga we know, with outlandish clothing and dyed hair, pop beats that overwhelm perceived musicality, and appearances on popular talk shows. Once tragedy has unfolded, we are presented with a new sophisticated Ally, singing a torch song in an elegant dress and with an orchestra, the focus of the music on her powerful voice.
These various iterations of Ally set the stage for the exploration of the theme of authenticity - what defines it, who controls it, and what is allowed within image, music, career, and love. What can be considered real? The film’s narrative posits the belief that acoustic rock is natural and that the world of pop, with its outrageous outfits, designed makeup, and vapid lyrics, are a construct and therefore not as real. Jackson clearly resents that Ally chooses that path in her career - they have the same conversation three times in the film - on the rooftop in full view of her billboard, an epic fight in the bathroom, and finally her visit to him in rehab - and each time he asserts his disappointment in her choices; only in the final conversation does she see that he won’t back down from this belief. While she defends her career and brand, she does show some early reticence about adding dancers to her act, stating “I don’t want to lose the part of myself that is talented,” implying that adding elements that contribute to spectacle takes her further from the authentic music.
And so, the question is posed - is she asserting her own personality in the pop star version of Ally? Is it an act that she is even conscious of making? When Ally is first presented on-screen, she is completely made up at the drag queen bar and Jackson’s first act is to remove her stage makeup - and they never really break out of this pattern until the end of the film. Does his death shock her out of a constructed inauthentic state - so much that in tribute to their love, she asserts a new star persona - abandoning the roles of the rock sidekick or designed pop star - and evolving into a refined singer in a beautiful dress, backed by an orchestra, and singing a torch song to the man she loved. The film seems to pass judgement on the type of career that Lady Gaga herself personifies and yet, must acknowledge that any presentation on stage is a constructed image, just as the composition of the film itself is a construction as well. Striving for authenticity is a noble task in all works of art, but what defines something as authentic? When asked in an interview for the film about whether it was scary to show her face on-screen with no makeup, Lady Gaga responded that was a representation of Ally and that she herself, as Lady Gaga, felt more authentically herself when dressed up in makeup and hair done. In the end, authenticity is a representation of one’s true nature or belief - who am I (or Jackson Maine) to question someone’s true definition of themselves - whether sans makeup or outrageously painted, expressing studio produced pop music or live acoustic ballads.
Speaking of music, the soundtrack for this film is delightful, not surprising given the talent of Lady Gaga writing the songs, but Cooper contributes to his long list of accomplishments for this film by adding his guitar, voice, and musicality to the songs. Music is integral to the dna of this film, which takes time to feature the multitude of songs, not just in clips or sequences, but sometimes highlighting an entire set piece. To justify spending that much film time, the songs must carry weight in the storytelling. For example, a song lyric that Jackson croons - “maybe it’s time to let the old ways die” - captures the story arc of Cooper’s character in a single melodic expression; he is the old, Ally is the new, and the song is almost a predictive, mournful lament to his future. The variety of the soundtrack is also notable, tracking the various stages of Ally’s persona and career - demonstrating the talent of Gaga’s ability to craft songs that serve story and character, but also that can be listened to and enjoyed on their own merits. 
Another aspect of the film that shows a thoughtfulness of direction was the use of light, adding a layer of commentary on character to the scenes. For example, the beginning of the film shows Jackson performing a concert while high and the bright, blurry lights and constant camera movement captures that feeling and invites the audience to (almost) share that experience. After he returns from rehab and enters his dark house, a sign that reads La Vi En Rose turns on and floods his empty house with red light and a burst of Ally’s energy and spirit, a touch that reminds the character and the viewer of the beginning of this couple’s journey. Additionally, when he is settling into the house, sober and playing with the dog as Ally watches from afar - this is literally the most pure that he’s been and the light shows that quality; it is warm and golden and shines bright, almost taking over the entire frame with its radiance, but only for a moment, which parallels his character’s trajectory. Pure in that moment, but winking out soon, for when the camera returns to the house later, flooded with the police’s flashing red and blue lights, interplaying hauntingly with the red sign in the house, the audience knows that this light means death.
The bookends of the film show the crossing of the two people’s careers, life, and energy. At the beginning of the film, Jackson invites Ally to attend one of his concerts, and he sends her a car to pick her up; here, he has the power in the relationship, but by the end, she is the one with the concert, she offers to send a car, she has the complete power in the dynamic. The narrative is truly one of his star falling and hers rising.  
The final conclusion to Jackson’s fall from stardom is a heartbreaking one, pushed by a music executive that is selfishly concerned with his pop star’s career rather than a human being’s fragility. Tragically, rock stars too often live the story that is dramatized by Jackson’s character - extremely talented, leaning into the rockstar lifestyle, only to flame out from drugs. For Jackson, addiction is a powerful disease and the chances of relapse could be high; he is vulnerable and listens to a voice that expresses all his fears out loud, internalizes that message, and then makes his decision. At the same time, it is infuriating that this person (who has dragged down multiple people he loves), who put in some work and had been making amends with those people, to be so completely in a vulnerable place and to be thrown down by a ruthless stranger was heartbreaking to watch. Because you want to root for people. But old habits die hard. And he really did love her and want the best for her and so decided to take his potential destructive behavior out of the equation so she could go on to better heights than he could ever have achieved.
This film may be the fourth remake and may be telling a familiar story about artists rising and falling, but ultimately, it is about the journey of that story, the music that is created, the moments that are captured, and the chemistry of the players. A Star is Born, 2018 edition, captures the essence of these characters, highlights the stellar music, and delivers a heartbreaking ending that leaves viewers thinking about the question of authenticity in art, love, and oneself.
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citizenscreen · 5 years
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Out of the blue I watched a new-to-me movie the other day about a retired Army Colonel who takes on corrupt politicians in his hometown in Georgia. The movie’s title is Colonel Effingham’s Raid, a 1946 comedy directed by Irving Pichel starring Charles Coburn as the title character. Colonel Effingham’s Raid has a lot going for it with charm high on its list of attributes thanks in large part to Coburn, the Georgia native with a talent for comedy and an English accent. It was then that I decided to dedicate an entry to him because I enjoy him so…and…lo and behold, this week would have been his birthday.
Charles Coburn (June 19, 1877 – August 30, 1961)
We have an embarrassment of riches in the character actor department of classic films. There are numerous memorable actors who deserve praise for bettering films simply by their appearance no matter how small a role. One of those is Charles Coburn who enjoyed a popularity many of the other character players did not. Indeed, thanks to Coburn’s 3-decades-long screen career during which he appeared in nearly 100 movies and television shows, his name recognition rivaled that of the stars whose names appeared above the title. Coburn was also highly regarded critically receiving three Academy Award nominations for Best Supporting Actor, taking home Oscar once for his delightful portrayal of Benjamin Dingle in George Stevens‘ wartime comedy, The More the Merrier (1943). More important than awards, however, was Charles Coburn’s undeniable ability to delight greatly with his talent.
Charles Douville Coburn was born in Macon, Georgia on June 19, 1877 and grew up in beautiful Savannah. He was the son of Scotch-Irish Americans Emma Louise Sprigman and Moses Douville Coburn who were not entertainers, but that didn’t stop young Charles from taking odd jobs at the local Savannah Theater starting at the age of 14. He was bitten by the entertainment industry bug early and did everything from handing out programs to being the doorman to theater manager by the age of 18. Failing to make his mark in Georgia, Charles left for New York at age 19. Although Mr. Coburn didn’t hit the big time immediately, his Broadway debut in 1901 was an inevitability as was his forming The Coburn Shakespearean Players in 1905. His partner in that endeavor was another actor, Ivah Wills, who became Mrs. Coburn in 1906. The two had six children together.
In addition to managing the Coburn Players, Charles and Ivah starred in and produced many plays throughout the decades during which the troupe traveled to college campuses across the country and appeared on Broadway. The couple met when he was playing Orlando to her Rosalind in As You Like It. They continued to work together until her death in 1937 performing Shakespeare and French and Greek dramas and comedies. In her book, Greek Tragedy on the American Stage: Ancient Drama in the Commercial Theater …, Karelisa Hartigan mentions how the Coburn Players would give over 100 performances every summer mostly outdoors. The popularity of their performances created an interest in outdoor theaters with other companies following their lead. Charles Coburn played most of the male leading parts with Ivah, billed as Mrs. Coburn, playing the female leads. The productions were often called “amateurish” by critics, but the performances were always praised. These scholarly productions likely led to Charles’ English accent despite being a Southern gentleman.
I’d be remiss not to mention that although few know her name, Ivah Wills had a long list of credits in her own right both as an actor and producer in a career that spanned 35 years. Ivah garnered positive reviews along with her husband and both were highly regarded members of the acting community. To put it in perspective, consider that George M. Cohan was among the honorary pallbearers at Ivah’s funeral.
Cobrun and Wills in The Taming of the Shrew
Ivah and Charles
After Ivah Wills’ death, Charles Coburn moved to Hollywood to start a movie career. He’d already appeared in a 1933 short film and in The People’s Enemy, a crime drama directed by Crane Wilbur. However, the roles that would cement his legacy as a screen star began in earnest in 1938 with comedic performances far removed from his classical training, but roles in which he excelled. Coburn’s best movie roles are the ones where he perfectly balances the high-brow snootiness with a touch of bumbling fool. Roger Ebert described him as a toned down Charles Laughton and that’s exactly right. Coburn paved the road to stardom at the age of 61 and became a steadfast presence that could be counted on for his comedic timing as charming old men with affected manner and accent – always with a monocle, which he removed only to eat, and sometimes chomping on a cigar. One cannot help but smile when he appears on screen.
Clarence Brown‘s Of Human Hearts (1938) offered Coburn his first substantial role alongside a first-rate cast led by Walter Huston, James Stewart and another terrific character actor, Beulah Bondi. Although that film is a Western, Coburn played a doctor, the type of professional role along with several judges, business men, a couple of “sirs,” and rich guys that he enjoyably brought to the screen throughout his career.
Charles Coburn’s memorable big screen credits are too numerous to list, but he made important contributions to such enduring classics as John Cromwell‘s Made for Each Other (1939) and Garson Kanin‘s Bachelor Mother (1939). A personal favorite of mine, Preston Sturges’ The Lady Eve (1941) wherein Coburn plays “Colonel” Harrington, father to Barbara Stanwyck’s Jean Harrington, a duo of card sharps adept at swindling the rich, would not be the same without him. The actor followed that Sturges gem with his first Oscar-nominated performance as an irascible tycoon who goes undercover as a shoe clerk at a department store to try to uncover agitators trying to form a union in Sam Wood’s The Devil and Miss Jones (1941). Starring Jean Arthur, Robert Cummings and a slew of fantastic character actors like Spring Byington, Edmund Gwenn, S. Z. Sakall, and William Demarest, you must make time to watch The Devil and Miss Jones if you’ve not seen it. It is bewitching fun.
Coburn and Jean Arthur in THE DEVIL AND MISS JONES
The 1940s served several standouts for Charles Coburn who appeared in 4 to 5 pictures a year in the early part of the decade. Of course, his Oscar-winning performance in Stevens’ World War II comedy The More the Merrier stands tall above the heap. Opposite Jean Arthur and Joel McCrea, Coburn is wonderful as the retired millionaire who finagles his way into a room during the wartime housing shortage. Coburn’s blustering but endearing manner in this film typifies the greatest gift he brought to the movies, by my estimation, and it is hard to resist. Variety agreed with me as of this movie they wrote, “A sparkling and effervescing piece of entertainment, The More the Merrier, is one of the most spontaneous farce-comedies of the wartime era. Although Jean Arthur and Joel McCrea carry the romantic interest, Charles Coburn walks off with the honors.”
Another worthy 1940s turn for Coburn was Ernst Lubitsch‘s Heaven Can Wait in 1943. Here he plays another grandfather and another millionaire with usual memorable flare alongside a stupendous cast led by Gene Tierney and Don Ameche. Once again I must mention Pichel’s Colonel Effingham’s Raid in which Coburn co-starred with Joan Bennett and William Eythe and several other veteran character actors like Donald Meek and Cora Witherspoon. This was a fun discovery.
Charles Coburn received his third Academy Award nomination for what TCM’s Robert Osborne described as a “rip-roaring performance” as a gruff but loving grandfather in the coming-of-age tale told in Victor Saville‘s The Green Years (1946). Following that performance, Coburn’s big screen appearances slowed down significantly. He had signed a contract with Columbia Pictures in 1945, which required only four films in two years. This meant that the actor had more time to return to the stage and to dedicate time to television work, which he did with gusto starting in 1950 as a premiere guest on many anthology series. Still, Coburn made a few notable pictures in the 1950s delighting audiences with a comedic millionaire performance as Sir Francis “Piggy” Beekman in Howard Hawks‘ Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953), a role that could have easily been creepy portrayed by anyone else. He also played against type in John Guillermin‘s murder mystery, Town on Trial (1957), which I must get my hands on.
Coburn with Jane Russell and Marilyn Monroe in a publicity shot for GENTLEMEN PREFER BLONDES
Coburn’s final screen appearance was in The Best of the Post, an anthology series adapted from stories published in the Saturday Evening Post magazine. The March 1960 episode is titled “Six Months More to Live.” That seems a somber ending to a stellar career, but one to be proud of for many reasons not the least of which is that Coburn appeared in five Oscar Best Picture nominees: Kings Row (1942), The More the Merrier (1943), Heaven Can Wait (1943), Wilson (1944) and Around the World in 80 Days (1956). Only the last of these won, but they were all improved by the Coburn brand.
At the time of his death Charles Coburn was married to Winifred Natzka who was forty-one years his junior. The two were married in 1959 and had a daughter together. The actor’s final acting role was fittingly on stage in a production of You Can’t Take It With You in Indianapolis, Indiana a week before his death at the age of eighty-four. The previous year he had been honored with a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame located at 6268 Hollywood Boulevard. If you ever pass that address be sure to look downward at his star – it was well earned.
A Tribute to Charles Coburn Out of the blue I watched a new-to-me movie the other day about a retired Army Colonel who takes on corrupt politicians in his hometown in Georgia.
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5hfanfiction · 5 years
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Why Did I Get Married? (Camren)
Part Twenty Nine: I cant see a life without you
Do you believe in soulmates?
Or maybe, love at first sight?
I believe that there’s a very few selected moments in your life that you’re going to meet someone who was exactly right for you. Not because she or he; whatever you’re into, was perfect, because no one is perfect. But rather when both your flaws were combined and arranged in a way that created a bond so strong, that it could’ve only been described as love.
Do you remember your first love?
Maybe you’re both no longer together. Maybe you still are. Maybe you’re still friends and can look back, reminisce and laugh at the times you once shared together.
Or maybe, you hate the person, and you hate the memories you once shared.
But, if we’re being honest, at one point in your life, you liked the person, even if they turned out to be someone you never thought they’d be.
And in some cases, you probably still love them. I’m not saying that you may have felt sparks when he touched you, or your heart might’ve skipped beats when she were around. I don’t even know if that’s real, but I’m sure you’ll be lying if you said that you didn’t scoot closer to her whenever she sat next to you, because she made you feel safe.
Or that you didn’t randomly wake up during the night just to kiss his forehead. You’ll be lying if you said he didn’t make you happy, and that you weren’t going to miss him.
I’m not saying that it was love, and I’m definitely not trying to say that it didn’t hurt you, but you can admit that at some point in your life, she did matter and possibly still matters to you.
But sweetheart, it’s time to let them go. I know you want to hold on to those precious memories and the time together that you once shared. You want to keep the hope alive, that one day she’s going to find her way back into your arms. You can’t keep making up fantasies of how happy you’re both going to be, but deep down, I know that you know, he’s never going to come back.
You know she doesn’t feel the same way she once did, and yet you keep trying to force something that’s not there anymore.
He’s your security blanket, that’s why you’re so damn terrified to let him go, so you keep lying to yourself instead of facing reality.
I know it’s sad the way you both act like strangers now, after everything you both had.
You act like you’ve never met….but it’s time to let go.
***
“Well isn’t it my favourite niece,” Becky stooped to her niece’s height and ruffled the child’s already messy hair. Tonight, Becky and Hailee would’ve been babysitting the child as Ariana wasn’t in the country, nor was Maggie. “How are you doing, Squirt?”
Izzy wrapped her arms around her aunt and placed a kiss on the girl’s cheek. “I’m great!” She said happily, looking around for someone else. “Is Nugget with you?”
Becky laughed and shook her head ‘no’. “I’m starting to think you don’t actually like me.”
“No!” Izzy said hurriedly. “I like you, very much. But I miss Nugget and you don’t bring him around anymore.” The child pouted cutely. “Can you ask your mummy to bring him?”
“Princesa!” Camila called out from the living room. “Stop bullying your tía with your cuteness to get your way. It’s not fair. No one can resist you.” She smiled when she saw her younger sister. “Hey, Beckster. C'mere and give me some love.”
Becky laughed and went to wrap her sister into a long overdue hug. Due to both of their busy schedules; Camila with her career and Becky with school, it had been quite some time since they had last seen each other. “I miss you, loser. It’s been so long.”
The older Cabello sister sighed dramatically. “I know. I’ve missed annoying your ass. Just drop out of school and let’s become a singing duo. The Cabello Sisters.” They posed back to back with each other, they formed a gun with their fingers as Izzy watched their shenanigans.
“Can I join too?” The child asked. “I can sing and you and my mummy can play the instruments.”
Becky laughed. “Of course, Squirt. You’re the real star here anyway.” She picked the child up in her arms, and began to mindlessly play with her hair. “Will Hailee be here soon?”
Camila checked her watch. “I think so. She texted that she’ll be running a bit late. Do you think you can handle being alone with Izzy until Hailee comes? Or do you want us to wait?”
“Your daughter is an angel,” Becky smiled. “I think I can survive a couple minutes without help. You and Lauren should go be on your date.”
Lauren popped out of the kitchen at the mention of her name. She was preparing dinner for the babysitters and her daughter. Izzy wanted pizza, and not just any pizza, she wanted her mother’s famous Hawaiian pizza, and as any good mother, Lauren obliged.
“I heard my name,” Lauren said. “Y'all gossiping about me, huh?” She fake glared at her newly discovered sister in law. “Hey, Beck,” she wrapped her in a side hug. “How are you? I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen you. Can’t say the same about my sister, she’s literally always in the house.”
As soon as Maggie Jauregui was mentioned, Lauren’s phone dinged.
“Aw,” Lauren cooed. “Look at this. I think our Maggie is in love.”
Becky sighed heavily. “And to think, if I were a couple years older or she a couple years younger, we could’ve been a power couple.”
Camila scrunched her nose at her sister. “Wouldn’t that be kinda weird though? You’re both technically, I don’t know, sister in laws?”
“I’m Lauren’s sister in law, not Maggie’s,” Becky winked at her sister.
“Okay,” Lauren pretended to faint from the cuteness. “Maggie is in love. I literally never thought that we would live to see the day.”
“Why do you have Maggie’s notifications on and not mine?” Camila pouted at her wife. She helped her off the couch, still pouting. “I’m your wife for Christ’s sake!”
“I do have your notifications on.”
“But you never like or retweet any of my stuff!” Camila continued to pout. “You’re literally the worst wife ever.”
The photographer laughed. “Becky, can you give us a moment? I need to borrow Camila for a second.” She pulled her wife back upstairs and into their bedroom. “Let’s get you ready!”
“But, I’m already ready and I think I look pretty cute,” Camila gestured to her blue skinny jeans, green crop top and her wife’s favourite leather jacket. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
Lauren walked towards their shared closet and pulled an outfit out of it. It was a blue wildflower skirt suit, with some red pumps to complement the outfit. “Where we’re going, I think you’ll like to dress differently. And plus, I picked it out for you. Isn’t that cute? Isn’t that romantic?”
Camila laughed. She saw that cheesy smile on her wife’s face and her heart couldn’t help but melt. “Yes, amor. It’s very romantic.” She placed a lingering kiss on her wife’s lips. “It’s actually a very cute outfit as well. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Lauren wrapped her arms around her wife for a quick hug. “Now get ready. I don’t want us to reach too late.”
Ten minutes later, Camila descended the stairs again, her wife waiting at the bottom of it. Once green eyes locked with brown, Lauren smiled brightly, her heart beating wildly against her chest. “You look absolutely gorgeous, Mrs Jauregui. Stunning, spectacular, show stopping, beautiful. You’re utter perfection.”
Camila blushed, and tried to hide it, as she took her wife’s arm.
“Wow,” Izzy popped out of nowhere. “You look very pretty mummy.” Becky stooped next to her niece and whispered something into the child’s ear. “But not as pretty as aunty Becky.”
Camila laughed and playfully shoved her sister. “Stop corrupting my child.”
“But it’s fun,” Becky laughed.
“We should probably get going. Call us if you need anything, okay?” Lauren directed at her sister in law. “Hailee said she’s picking up some food and dessert, I think. After I told her she doesn’t need to.” She shook her head. “So she’s going to be here soon.”
The couple said their 'byes’ to their daughter as they left on their way for their date.
“Have fun on your date, kids,” Becky and Izzy waved at them, as Lauren’s car sped away from the driveway. She turned to her niece and smiled. “Let the fun begin!”
***
“Where are you taking me?” Camila asked Lauren as she was blinding leading the woman into an impending doom. Lauren had her hands over Camila’s eyes, so she wasn’t able to decipher what their date was going to be as yet.
“Can you relax?” Lauren chuckled. “I’m not going to murder you.” She leaned in closer to her wife’s ear. “Yet.”
Camila stopped walking. “Lauren, I swear…” But before she could even start protesting, the photographer uncovered her eyes.
“Tada,” Lauren said excitedly as she gestured to where they were. They were on a street in Miami that looked as though they were gearing up for a full fledged Cuban/Latino party. The street was already beginning to fill with people, there were a few good vendors who were selling their delectable foods from Cuba or other Latin countries.
And last but not least, the guest performer tonight was going to be, non other than the Grammy award winning, Cuban singing legend… drum roll please.
Gloria Estefan.
Also known as, Camila’s greatest musical inspiration.
“Lauren…what…the…fuck,” Camila breathed out as her eyes moved over everything within her view. When it landed on the stage and she saw Gloria Estefan’s name, she almost passed out. She took a moment to collect herself before she grabbed her wife; who was beaming from ear to ear, by her shirt and pulled her in for a searing kiss. “I am utterly in love with you. I cannot begin to put to words just how happy I feel right now. Thank you. Thank youu!” She kept repeating to Lauren who was beyond happy that her wife liked her surprise.
“I’m so happy you’re happy,” Lauren admitted. She intertwined their fingers once they separated from their embrace. “Once I saw Gloria was coming to Miami, I knew I needed to take you.”
“You’re making my date seem lame now.”
Lauren laughed at the adorable expression on her wife’s face. “You cannot compare our dates, babe. What you did for me, meant a lot to me. And what we’re doing tonight, means a lot to you. As long as we’re experiencing these moments together, I think that’s all that really matters.” She looked into her wife’s beautiful brown eyes, and placed a kiss on her forehead. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Laur,” Camila smiled. “How did I become blessed with such an amazing wife? What did I do to deserve this?”
“Quite frankly, I think you hit the jackpot,” Lauren smirked cockily.
“Wow, and humble too?” Camila rolled her eyes playfully and laughed. “The whole enchilada.”
The couple decided to walk around and enjoy the entertainment before Gloria Estefan came to perform. Truth is, Lauren had remembered when Camila talked about the Cuban singer in therapy, and how she had won a competition singing 'Rhythm Is Gonna Get You.’ She remembered how Camila said she was freaking out before actually performing and her mother came onstage with her.
That’s the thing about when you’re in love, you always remember the little things about them. It’s the littlest things that seems to mean more than the grand gestures. Don’t get me wrong, we all would love for someone to rent out a movie theatre just for the both of us to watch a movie and enjoy each other’s company. However, sentimentally speaking, it means more when someone remembers something you said and to you, it might seem like such a tiny, irrelevant thing, but when the one you love remembers it now that’s special.
That’s love.
You should be treated the way you deserve. You should be loved the way you love, and you should be fought for the way you fight.
When there are more tears than smiles, leave.
When there are more fights than jokes, leave.
When it hurts you more than it feels good, leave.
They don’t have the right to destroy you just because you’re in love with them. And loving them, being hopelessly head over heels in love with them, doesn’t mean you have to stay.
Remember that.
“Stay there,” Lauren pulled out her phone. “You look too beautiful right now not to take a picture.”
Camila blushed and rolled her eyes. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
“I’ve only ever said that to one girl, and she ended up being my wife,” Lauren looked at her wife, with love in her eyes. “I think my charm won her over.” She snapped a few photos and swiped through them. “You look perfect in all, but I’m posting this one.”
Camila gasped. “You mean… you’re actually going on Instagram?! I am shocked. The last time you posted wasn’t it Christmas?”
Lauren flipped her wife off and typed away on her phone.
503,783 likes @ lmjauregui I cant see a life without you. Even though you’re annoying as hell 🙄🖤
Camila laughed loudly when she checked her phone. “After all the cute things I’ve told you today, I take it all back.”
Lauren pecked her on the lips. “No takesies backsies. You think I’m great and you love meee.”
“Ugh. I’m married to a child.” Camila felt a tap on her shoulder, when she spun around, she came face to face with two teenagers. “Hi there!” She smiled at them.
They returned the smile. “Hi, Camila…we don’t want to interrupt but my friend and I have been looking at you since you came here, and we finally built up the courage to talk to you.”
“Aw! I don’t bite,” Camila cooed. She was always so happy to talk to her fans. “What’s your names? Oh this is my amazing wife, Lauren, by the way,” she slipped her arm into the woman’s. “She’s just so shy when it comes to meeting my fans.”
Lauren blushed red in embarrassment. She was never one for the limelight. Every time they had gone out and Camila met a fan, she would always slink into the shadows. “Hey.” Lauren muttered, she nodded in acknowledgment at them.
“Hi, Lauren! It’s nice to meet you. My name is Chloe, and this is my friend Sasha. I love your photography, by the way! I’m so glad you’re finally working with Nicholas. Since I’ve been following you, I knew it was like your childhood dream, right?” Chloe started talking animatedly to Lauren and Camila. Lauren was a bit shocked to say the least, because of this fan knowing about her. She had never really come across any 'fans’ even though she had a few times, so it was always a bit shocking to her.
“We should probably leave you to your date now,” Sasha said after spending about ten minutes talking to the couple. “Is it okay if we get a picture?” Lauren nodded and was about to take the girl’s phone but that’s when she stopped her. “No, I mean like a group picture.”
“Oh,” Lauren kinked an eyebrow. “Um, yeah sure.” They had asked a random stranger to snap the picture of them. A few tries later, the girls thanked the couple for entertaining them, and left. “That was…different.”
Camila smiled and placed a kiss on her wife’s cheek. “You’re always so adorably awkward when you meet my fans.”
“I just don’t do well when it comes to socialising,” Lauren shrugged. “And it doesn’t matter anyway, I have you and Izzy. I don’t need to meet knew people.”
Camila laughed. “I guess you’re right, babe.” Her eyes landed on an Argentinian stall and she dragged her wife to it. “Oh my god, Laur!” She squealed in excitement. “They have Choripán, Lomito, Empanadas and oh my god! Sandwiches de miga. When my dad used to take me for our daily walks, he would buy this for us from this old guy named Pablo. It was so delicious.” Camila sighed dramatically. “I miss Argentina.”
Lauren wrapped an arm around her wife’s shoulder. “Hi!” She smiled politely at the vendor. “Did you hear everything she said?” The elderly woman, who was selling the foods smiled and nodded her head. “Can I get one of each?”
The vendor began to make and package the street foods for Lauren as her wife began to reminisce about her old country.
“I don’t think I ever heard you say that you miss Argentina,” Lauren admitted.
The singer shrugged. “I know. Life is better here, for sure, but I miss how life was so much simpler and peaceful back home. I guess I just miss the memories.”
“We’ll visit again one day soon,” Lauren told her. “Izzy needs to know about her culture, and you need to go home once in a while.”
Camila turned to look at her wife. “You’re my home.”
Lauren cupped her cheeks. “That may be true, but Argentina is part of who you are, and I’ll be a terrible wife if I didn’t take you back there ever so often. So once life is quiet again, we’re going.”
Camila smiled. “You’re perfect.”
“What would you like to drink?” The vendor interrupted the couple.
“Do you have any Chimarrão?” Camila asked. “I always loved that.”
The elderly woman nodded. “Sí.” She whipped up two cups of Chimarrão and handed it to the couple. Lauren paid the woman, and gave her a huge tip. She thanked the woman for her generosity and even offered to give her more food for the money, but Lauren kept refusing. “Gracias.” The woman smiled fondly at the couple.
“I need you to try like every single one of these,” Camila said as she took a bite of her empanada. “I know you guys have like this in Venezuela, but the Argentinian empanadas outsold.”
She fed Lauren a piece. With every single bite of these traditional Argentinian street foods, it brought back a lot of fond memories for Camila when she and her family lived there many years ago.
“Okay, it’s delicious,” Lauren admitted. “But being true to my country, it definitely isn’t better than the Venezuelan empanadas,” she stuck her tongue out playfully at her wife.
Camila laughed and rolled her eyes. She finished eating the empanada and took a sip of her drink. “You just lack taste, babe.”
They couple shared the other various foods and enjoyed the music of a Mariachi band.
“I swear, I always loved Miami but I love it even more after tonight,” Camila reached across the table and took Lauren’s hand in her own. “Can you stop eating for one second and let me be cute?”
Lauren laughed and placed the Lomito back on her plate. “You have my full attention, amor. Lay the cuteness on me.”
The brunette smiled. She knew her wife was only messing with her. Camila had loved how their relationship had gone back to the typical banter and sarcastic remarks that they once shared. “You know when a house becomes a home.” The singer said randomly. “You know which stair creaks more than the others, you know exactly where you can find the pots and pans with your eyes closed. You know every turn like the back of your hand. And truth is, I’ve never had a home before…until now. Home is green eyes that sparkle a little brighter than the sun. It’s a scar right above your left eye after getting injured from playing soccer back in high school, because you were pretty uncoordinated back then. Home is when you smile and your eyes crinkle. I know what home feels like…home feels like you.”
Yet again, Lauren was at a lost for words. Her wife always did this to her; left her speechless.
The butterfly effect.
I’m sure most of us are familiar with the term, and if you’re not, it’s simply an interesting concept. To think that every single decision you’ve ever made has resulted in you being exactly where you are right now.
A complete mess.
Someone who’s successful.
Head over heels in love with someone.
Everything you did led you to where you are right now.
And if the smallest thing in your past, you would’ve done differently, it would’ve impacted your life in another way.
Everything Lauren did in her past led her to this very moment. Sitting across the table from this very beautiful woman who owns her heart. The mother of her child and the love for her life.
“Camz…I..don’t know what to say,” Lauren admitted. “I don’t know where we’re going to be five years from now, but I hope it’s somewhere next to you. I hope we’re still in love with one another. I hope Izzy never has to doubt her parents love for her and each other. I hope I never make you question my feelings for you ever again. I hope that we still love each other the way we do right now, right this very moment. I want to love you until I can’t love you anymore, and when I can’t, I’ll find more love to give to you.”
Camila wiped at her eyes, smiling through her happy tears. “I thought you said that you were speechless?” She laughed.
“Speechless and having so much to say,” Lauren smiled. “Come,” she stretched an arm out towards her wife. “Gloria should be performing by now.”
“What about the food?” Camila looked at the remaining Argentinian food and then back at her wife.
Lauren laughed. “Okay, let’s finish these first and then we can go.”
When they were finished eating, the couple went closer to the stage that Gloria Estefan was expected to be performing at. A crowd had already gathered; murmurs of excitement about seeing the legend herself perform could’ve been heard throughout the crowd, despite the blasting of music.
“I swear, if Gloria makes eye contact with me,” Camila yelled over the music to her wife. “I will faint. This is a trust exercise, if you let me fall, I hate you.”
Lauren looked at her wife and shook her head in amusement. She had never seen Camila fangirl so hard to seeing a celebrity before, well besides that one time she had met Ricky Martin; another singer she had grown up listening to. Camila was a stuttering mess, and was a lost for words. Ricky, however, found her reaction cute so it saved Camila from being too embarrassed. “I’ll catch you, babe. I promise.”
Camila didn’t have the chance to respond because the lights had dimmed, a single spotlight came on the stage, and the music to one of Gloria’s hits 'Conga’ started playing.
“OH MY GOD!” Camila screamed along with the hundreds of other fans who were there.
The moment Gloria’s mouth opened, Camila felt everything else fade away. She started swaying her hips to the beat, and danced along with her wife.
She was happy.
She couldn’t help the huge smile that didn’t leave her lips the moment she came here.
Lauren’s eyes didn’t once leave Camila. Even when they had stopped dancing together, she kept watching her wife. She was so lost in the music, and filled with pure happiness.
The purpose of this entire night was to remind Camila that Lauren saw her. That Lauren was still her biggest fan. She wanted to bring Camila back to the time when she sang for fun. Not because it was her career, not because she wanted to make others happy, but rather when she was just singing because she loved it. And even though she still loves what she does, this entire night was sentimental.
Lauren was Camila’s person.
For the love of all things good, Lauren wanted to be the person who woke up at 7am every morning next to this beautiful human being. She wanted to look at Camila every morning, with tousled hair, and sleep filled eyes but somehow she still managed to be effortlessly beautiful.
Camila wanted to be the person Lauren would text throughout the day and tell her how much she missed her. She wanted to randomly pop into her wife’s photography studio, to deliver food for her and to get a kiss because she missed the taste of her lips.
But most importantly, Lauren wanted to whisper into Camila’s ear at 3am, telling her 'I love you’, causing her to stir awake with a sleepy smile on her face as she would say 'I love you too.’
And even then, Camila would cuddle into Lauren and fall asleep in her arms.
They just wanted to be each other’s person.
“When I first met you, I thought I was sent to save you,” Lauren said to Camila but she knew her wife couldn’t have heard her. “But then your soul opened up and welcomed me in, that’s when I knew you were sent to save me.” A small smile found it’s way on Lauren’s lips. She reached out and gently ran her fingers down Camila’s spine; the brunette shivered and turned to look at her wife. She placed a kiss on Lauren’s lips and went back to enjoying the show. “You love me even though you know I’m not perfect. You love me even though I’ve hurt you on more than one occasion. You encourage me to achieve my dreams because you know exactly what I’m capable of.”
Gloria stopped singing for a moment, her eyes locked on Camila. Lauren was standing directly behind her, hands on her wife’s shoulders.
“I’m seeing someone here in the crowd,” Gloria Estefan began. “And her loving wife personally asked me, to bring her up on stage to help me with this song.” She pointed at Camila who gasped.
“Lauren, what the fuck?!” Camila turned to look at her wife, then back at a smiling Gloria Estefan. “You met her?! You fucking met my idol and you told her to bring me on stage?! Without a warning?!” Despite the initial shock, Camila was beaming with excitement. “Oh my god! I can’t sing to save my life. I’m going to embarrass myself.” She said completely forgetting the fact that she was a singer.
Lauren laughed and kissed her wife’s cheek. “C'mon, amor. Don’t keep Gloria waiting.” She gave Camila’s hand a light squeeze and released it as she walked towards the stage.
Gloria pulled the woman in a quick embrace, whispering something into her ear, which caused Camila to grin widely.
The beat to 'Rhythm Is Gonna Get You’ began to flow through the speakers, and before long, both singers voices began to fill everyone’s ears.
“You’re flawed but you understand it,” Lauren shook her head smiling as her wife performed on stage. “You’re beautiful, but it’s not just skin deep, your heart is one of the most beautiful things about you. You’re magic and you know it.”
Camila finished the song with a rowdy sound of applause from the audience. She and Gloria snapped a quick selfie on stage, before Camila rejoined her wife.
“I can’t believe that just happened!” The brunette was still bubbling with excitement. She threw her arms around Lauren, who spun her around. “I’m so fucking happy.”
The couple connected their lips in a slow, sweet kiss. Savouring this moment, savouring the feel of each other’s lips against theirs.
“I’m glad you’re happy, baby.”
Date someone who’s interested in you. I don’t mean someone who just thinks you’re cute, or you’re funny. I mean someone who wants to know every insignificant thing about you. Someone who wants to read every word that you write. Someone who wants to hear every song that you have to sing.
Date someone who wants to watch your favourite movie even if it’s something cliche and super lame. Someone who wants to know your favourite brand of toothpaste, or know if you prefer your sandwiches with or without the crusts.
Date someone who wants to know what quotes you love and which ones resonate deep within your bones.
You see, the thing is, there’s a difference between attraction and interest.
Find someone who wants to know every single aspect of who you are.
“You are who you are, and that’s what saves me everyday.”
*** Wattpad: Commander_Camren
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