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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years

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Title: In The Act {3}

Chris Evans x Famous OFC Cassia Drake

Warning: Plot, Cursing, Plenty of Words

Word Count: 5.5k

Summary: After the release of your hit movie “Roman Holiday,” you’ve become Hollywood’s new “It Girl.” Everyone wants a piece of you. While at a Hollywood event, you get pulled into an epic selfie similar to the one from the MET Gala with the megastars of Hollywood. The next day all anyone can talk about is this epic picture but not because of the star power in it, but what was happening in it.

Note: Yep, another one.

**Loosely Edited/Proofread**

**Heavily Interactive**

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Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 |

Thank god for slow mornings. You couldn’t think of the last time you were able to wake up without Pieter either standing over you or walking into your bedroom. He was the only one your mother trusted with you, and he just so happened to be a big shot entertainment manager. When you told your mother that you intended to pursue a career in acting, she was livid. She went on a tirade of the number of black actresses who either had to do questionable things to even have a minor break and those who just were used and turned away. She stressed the vast inequalities in the entertainment industry and worried for your mental and emotional health in the cruel industry. She didn't want you anywhere near the entertainment industry. She wanted you to fall into her second career field and be a lawyer.

It took months of you doing it on your own before you got your first role, it was small, but you played the shit out of the third black friend to the white lead actress then did it again and again and again. After your fourth role, your mother came around and brought Pieter into the mix. You knew of him from the industry. He’d been in a few tabloid magazines standing next to a few actresses. Your mother introduced him as her school friend from back in the day. You wanted to question her, but you knew better than that and just accepted the story she fed you. You always suspected there was more to it. The two of them sat you down for three hours to have a meeting on your goals with the industry.

After you went on and on for an hour, they went on and on for the next two outlining what needed to happen, how you needed to take things seriously, and put thought into the roles you auditioned for and so on. By the end of the meeting, you were on information overload, and that was when your mother told you the only way she’d be okay with you in this cutthroat town was if Pieter managed you. There was nothing in you that wanted to say no, so you said yes. That was two years now, and it had been a rollercoaster from the beginning.

Once in your kitchen still in your bra and panties, you perused the shelves in your fridge and took out the huge fruit salad you found there. After smelling it, you settled that it was still good and hopping onto the kitchen island and turned on the TV. As you ate, you flipped through the channels determined not to go to anything that required a brain cell. After a few moments of searching, you decided to finish the episode of Castlevania you’d started weeks ago.

You got lost in the lore of the Dracula themed animated series and the deliciousness of the fruit you were eating. You’d tuned everything out so well that you didn’t even hear anyone approach.

“Cassia!”

“What!”

You looked back to see Tiffany with her head poked around a corner looking at you.

“I think you’re gonna want to come out here,” she said with a look on her face you didn’t recognize.

“Uhh—why?”

“Just come look.” With that, her head was gone. Sighing, you pressed pause on the show, hopped off the counter, stabbed a piece of honeydew, and walked to where she’d disappeared. When you walked out of the kitchen and down the hall to your foyer, there sat a rather large floral arrangement.

“What the fuck is this?”

“What does it look like?”

“Flowers,” you answered before you shoved the fruit in your mouth to stand beside Tiffany.

“Duh.”

“Who are they from?”

You both stood there, just staring at it. They were gorgeous.

“I don’t know. I have been trying not to grab the card,” tiffany added. You looked at her; there was a wide ass grin on her face.

“It’s probably from Vouge thanking me for the photoshoot yesterday,” you surmised as you approached the arrangement. The scent of roses was powerful but not overwhelming.

Grabbing the card, you glanced at the front to see your name written across it. You didn’t recognize the handwriting. When you opened it, you scanned the words written, expecting to see “thank you.” Instead, you saw the words, “I’m sorry.” Bringing the card closer to your face, you read the words. Each word you read, your eyes bugged out even more and more until your jaw had dropped.

“What? Who’re they from?”

“Not Vouge.” Tiffany walked to you and took the card from your hands and read it aloud.

“Cassia, allow me to begin by extending my most sincerest apology to you for first my behavior the night of the fashion event and second the position I have put you in with the press. I am embarrassed and ashamed of my actions and behavior,” Tiffany began before she looked at you with eyes wide.

“Is this who I think it is? Oh my god, Cass!”

She dropped her eyes back to the card and continued. “I am embarrassed and ashamed of my actions and behavior, and I deeply regret them. I am very sorry, and I want you to know that in no way did I mean to objectify you or your body. I have two sisters and a strong Italian mother, and I was not raised that way at all. I hope that you can forgive me and my actions and not hold it against my family. Please accept these flowers as a token of my most heartfelt apology. Sincerely Chris Evans,” Tiffany finished with the squeal of his name.

“Oh my god! Cass!”

You’d been frozen in place for the last two minutes as she read the card. There were a plethora of things running through your head. One of which was the number of formal words he’d used.

“Oh my fucking god! Cass, is this his handwriting? It looks like it could be, it’s legible. Oh my god.”

You heard Tiffany reread the card, and as she did, you turned back to the flowers and observed them. You took notice that the flowers were all in your favorite colors. That made you wonder if he knew your favorite colors, or this was just a florist’s decision.

“Why are you so quiet? Why aren’t you freaking out?”

“Do you think he knows my these are my favorite colors?”

Tiffany looked back to the arrangement then let out a “hmm.”

“Do you think he specially researched you in order to send these? It is possible. this card sounds like he put a lot of thought into it.”

You took the card from her and reread it for yourself. She was right; the handwriting wasn’t horrible, by no means was it gorgeous, but it was nice. You began to wonder if he had, in fact, written it himself.

“Are you going to reply?”

That was the million-dollar question. You didn’t see a need to. Even if you did, what what you say? Thank you, Mr. Evans, for apologizing for looking down my dress. Though I enjoyed the attention, and I am flattered, It was highly inappropriate? Somehow that didn’t seem right.

“No need,” you answered before you walked away toward the kitchen and your fruit salad.

“What!”

Tiffany’s footsteps were loud as she trudged behind you.

“Why wouldn’t you reply? This could be one of the cutest meet-cute stories for your grandkids.”

“Oh my god, Tiff, grandkids? Are you insane right now?”

“Girl, don’t even try and lie and say you don’t think the man is fine.”

“I never said he wasn’t attractive.”

“Attractive? Cassia Anjelique Drake, you know you a damn liar. The man is more than attractive. He is gorgeous,” Tiff corrected.

“And he knows it, Tiffany. You can tell. I bet part of him thought he could have gotten away with x-ray visioning me, and no one would have called him out for it.”

“Cass,” Tiff began before you cut her off.

“—We’re not responding,” you finished turning back on Castelvania.

You knew Tiffany did not approve and also knew you hadn’t heard the end of it. You tried to focus on the show, but it was useless. Your mind only wanted to think of one thing—or person. Chris Evans.

Your day was just for meetings. Pieter had set you up with six meetings for the day. The first three were about movie roles he thought would suit your brand. They were all varying roles, one the lead in an action flick, another the love interest in a rom-com, and the third in a sci-fi type dramady. He said the worst thing in the world was being typecast. With Roman Holiday being a romcom, you knew he’d want your next role to be on the far opposite side of the spectrum.

The roles sounded exciting, and the scripts intrigued you. When they began talking about the expected salary for the films, you were impressed. They were practically throwing their money at you. You couldn’t believe the money actors actually received for a few months of work. Yeah, the schedule could be daunting and preparation never ending, but millions of dollars for maybe five to six months of work was just fine by you.

After the three movie meetings where you agreed to take the scripts and reread them before you got back to them, you moved on to a meeting with your team to discuss the next three months for you while going over the last three months. This happened quarterly, and you found the meetings insightful. They kept you on track with your goals and kept things in perspective. Your mother always said you are only as good as a capable team around you.

Your team comprised of your agent, Eduardo, whose job was to hunt down all the roles he could for you and field calls and interest from anyone and everyone in the business. Second, your publicist Julez, her domain was everything concerning your PR. Her job was to make sure that everything about you in the public remained favorable. She was good at what she did, and took her job seriously. Then was your lawyer, Martin, who was the second-best entertainment lawyer in the business. The best as far as you were concerned was your mother. His job was to keep everything legal and make sure no one tried to take advantage of you business-wise. Fourth, was your accountant, Greg. He was your money man. He made sure every cent you agreed upon with your contracts, was sent to your bank account and that every dime in your account was accounted for at all times. He even helped you invest that money, so it always grew. Then came your part-time stylist, Frenchie. Her job was to keep you looking incredible when she was needed. Finally, there was Pieter who oversaw them all. Tiffany nicknamed them Star Team, in honor of your name.

Though you’d learned to listen and follow along when they talked, you had to admit most of the information was boring to you, so you often drifted off. You never felt guilty about it because Tiffany was always recording the meetings and inventorying them for you if you needed to reference them later.

“Okay, is that all?” Pieter looked around at their faces around the conference table.

“One more thing, Julez began. “Have you decided how you’d like to move forward with eh-em, Boobgate?”

The murmurs around the desk picked up before Julez went on. “The media seemed to love your snarky, comedic comeback, Cassia. They are now doing most of the work for us by calling you good-spirited and easy-going for shrugging it off. A lot of the comments since are in good fun. I don’t see anything negative to come through, so I’m going to say we’re staying in good parameters. I have noticed though a great increase in searches about you and your overall name being mentioned. People love talking about you and Chris,” Juelz finished.

“Why wouldn’t they? They look gorgeous together,” Frenchie added.

“That seems to be the overall consensus. It is fascinating even those in his fandom do not seem to be spinning this negatively, which is always a concern with him and his team,” Juelz informed.

That was not news to you. When you had yet to make your big break, you followed celebrity discourse, and the Chris Evans fandom was insane. It seemed any little thing set them off, and once a fire was sparked, it would burn for weeks. With your rising fame, you worried about things like that on your end and being swept up in someone else’s insanity.

“So let’s leave it there. Let the media run with it where they will. We’ll do and say nothing on it. We’ll let this work for us,” Pieter finalized.

Everyone nodded before he called an end to the meeting, and everyone began to leave the room. Before you left, Pieter took the time to remind you about your last meeting of the day and share the news about a few other side projects he’d been working on for you. He shared that within a week or two, he hoped to be able to share the full news but that he was excited at the turn talks had taken today. You were curious but knew if you asked him to elaborate, he would only shoo you away, promising it would be a good surprise. He had your mother’s trust and had earned yours, so you allowed him to keep his secrets—for now.

After your last meeting, you found yourself home alone before midnight. This was the first time you'd been able to get any alone time. As you made it in your bedroom, you realized the flowers were now perched on your bedside table. They were even more beautiful in the glow of the moonlight that was shining through your balcony windows. Tiffany must have sent a message to the housekeeper to move them there.

You took up the card and reread it, all the while smiling. It was a sweet apology note and a kind gesture. You were surprised Julez didn’t bring them up in the meeting until it dawned on you that either she didn’t know which meant they came directly from him and not his assistant or team or she didn’t want to put you on the spot. While she technically answered to Pieter, she knew your money was what paid her salary. That meant you and her had an understanding about your PR needs. You liked discretion on things that no one else needed to know. This—you didn’t want Pieter knowing about. There was no need for him to know. It meant nothing.

The next day before you left your house, there was yet another bouquet and the card that accompanied it read; “Just in case you didn’t believe the first card I sent with the first arrangement I wanted to double down to make sure you knew that I am very much sorry.”

Tiffany didn’t say one word, all she did was give you a look, and that one look said plenty of things in one. “Heifer, you better reply to that man and live your life while swinging from his chandelier butt ass naked.” You had no intention of doing anything that look said.

The next day, another bouquet was waiting for you. this card was a little more amusing. “The first bouquet I could say you possibly didn’t receive. I know your life is busy, and anything can happen, but the second one, eh, less believable that you didn’t get no matter how much my pride is screaming at me that you didn’t just to save face. This one, I am sure you got, I had my assistant take care of it and attach a delivered and received receipt. So you responding is a purpose thing, and that makes me think I fucked up really bad, so bad that flowers won’t fix it, and you don’t forgive me. So I propose an alternative option. Allow me to apologize in person and explain myself. You pick the time and the place, and I’ll show up.”

When Tiffany saw this one, she lost her shit. She went on a full twenty-minute speech on why you should respond and accept his proposal. She went through exhibits A to Z as to why this was a good idea. She conveniently skipped the letter P knowing damn well the only thing you both could think of was Pieter. You knew that if he knew about any of this, he would flip his lid. When she included in her argument that you could make all of his dreams come true that he’s had all his life but was too afraid to inquire about.

You allowed her to go on her rant but still decided against responding or meeting him.

~~~~~~~~

-2 Days Later-

“So Cassia, everyone wants to know about this picture that is still the talk of the town. You haven’t made a statement, Chris hasn’t made a statement. What gives?” Ryan Seacrest’s question had you giggling.

“Nothing gives, Ryan. Not everything needs an explanation. Sometimes as humans, we have to learn to be okay with what is,” you philosophized.

Silence stretched for a full ten seconds before everyone around you busted out laughing, including yourself.

“Wow, I almost fell for that,” Ryan added, making you laugh louder.

“Darn, I almost got away with it.”

“You would have if I really didn’t want an answer,” Ryan slid in.

“Ah, everyone wants an answer, Ryan. I don’t have an answer to give.”

“You weren’t there?”

“No. It was my twin sister, Alicia.”

Another long stretch of silence filled the room. You could tell they were trying to figure out if you were telling the truth. “See, you guys are easy,” you teased, making them laugh again.

“So, you’re really not going to make a statement?”

“I went to an event and met a lot of cool people and had a great time.”

“Did you and Chris Evans leave together?”

“Not at all.”

“Did you exchange numbers?”

“Nope.”

Another silence befell the room, and you knew they didn’t believe you. For the next five minutes or so, you finished the interview while keeping tightlipped about the hottest topic. When you left, you were met with the paparazzi yet again, who were shouting new questions.

“Cassia, are the rumors true?”

“What rumors, guys?”

“That you’re in a relationship with Captain America himself.”

You tried to hide your shock before you quickly spoke.

“Who said that?”

Tiffany snorted beside you, no doubt thinking of her favorite gif.

“It is all over social media,” one of the paparazzo informed.

“That’s news to me,” you finished as your security got you to your truck. Before you got in one more question was screamed at you.

“How’d it feel to have Captain America checking you out?”

You couldn’t hide your smirk this time, and it was a smirk that only got bigger and bigger. Before you cheesed like a full-on idiot, you ducked in the truck.

“Your smirk said it all,” Tiffany said as you facepalmed.

After a quick trip to the market for some essentials, you made it home to finish reading the scripts you needed to have done in two days. When you walked inside, you ignored the second bouquet of flowers, Chris sent you the day after the first and went upstairs. Once in your bedroom, the third bouquet he sent yesterday caught your eye. The first one was a shock, the second a surprise, the third confusing.

After your shower, you walked back into your bedroom to find another bouquet that wasn't there thirty minutes ago. You knew they were from him. This was now amusing. What was his angle, you thought to yourself as you crossed the room to the flowers. Taking a deep whiff of them, you moaned. You loved the scent of Gardenia. They always put you in the frame of mind of romance and sensual rolls in bed. With that thought, you paused. Was he trying to tell you something?

Grabbing the envelope, you noted it was a lot bigger than the cards that accompanied the other bouquets. Once opening it, you saw a sheet of paper that felt heavier than standard paper, and with it came what you now knew was his handwriting. “Okay, after thinking about this for the last week trying to figure out what it is about me that you don’t like or won’t even entertain. Let’s start with the massive elephant in the room; I’m white.”

You had to laugh out loud for that. After almost a full minute of laughter that made you have to sit on your bed, you continued. “I know a major turn off, and unfortunately, it’s not something I can change. However, I can assure you that though I am white aesthetically, I am not fully white in any other department, and yes, that includes dancing.”

Again you laughed, dropping onto your back while flailing your legs in the air. He was on a roll; you thought before you continued. “Second, it must be you’re not into white guys. For that, the only thing I can offer is I’m not against wearing a paper bag to hide the fact that I am, in fact, white. It would be a case of none are the wiser. If, however, your gripe with me is my behavior from nights before, I promise I’m not a sleaze twenty-four hours of the day. I am capable of looking directly into your eyes for an entire conversation, I promise. Let me prove it to you. 424-947-5639.”

Your jaw dropped. Chris freaking Evans just gave you his phone number. You couldn’t move for the next ten minutes. You just sat there in a stunned stupor. You couldn’t believe this was real. Half of you was fangirling because hello not too long ago; you were a fan. You still were. The other half was freaking out because Chris Evans just gave you his phone number. Was he just being friendly, or was he shooting his shot?

MSG: Question.

MSG Tiff: Answer for two hundred Alex.

MSG: How does one shoot their shot?

MSG Tiff: What? Cass, has it really been that long since you’ve made the first move?

MSG: Do you know who you’re talking to? I’ve never made the first move. That is beside the point. I’m not talking about me shooting my shot. I mean when someone shoots their shot at you. What exactly does it look like?

You saw the bubbles knowing she was probably writing a long ass message. Almost a minute later, the message came in.

MSG Tiff: Uh, were you not present at the Laker’s game when the Sixers were in town, and Jonah Bolden stopped the game to come over and shoot his shot?

You laughed. You hadn’t forgotten that, mainly because it was everywhere the next day. The two of you talked for a few weeks, but your schedule and his had things fizzling real quick.

MSG: Yeah, but he was black, Tiff.

That was when the facetime call came in. you rolled your eyes but answered it. “So are we asking what it looks like when a white guy shoots his shot? Is that to lead me to think you mean a particular America’s ass?”

“Oh my god, Tiff. Just answer please,” you pleaded with exasperation.

“I need to know who first. White guys shooting their shot do not come in one size fits all. So who?”

Rolling your eyes again, you told her and prepared for the scream. It was as loud as expected.

“Okay, I knew he was feeling you. A man doesn’t look at any ol breasts like that,” Tiffany joked before she continued. “He looks like he could have game, but it could be cheesy game. Did he send you more flowers?”

You turned the camera to the new bouquet, and she melted. “Oh my god, those are to die for. They just get more and more beautiful. He definitely put research into this one. you love gardenias.”

It was true, and the thought had crossed your mind. When she asked what the note said this time, you read it to her. It had her laughing just as hard and long. When you mentioned that he ended it with his number, she screamed again.

“Call him!”

“No!”

“Cassiopeia Anjelique Drake! The man has shot his ultimate shot,” Tiffany shouted, using your entire full name.

You rolled your eyes and dropped back onto your bed.

“I can’t call. Pieter will freak,” you excused.

“Fuck, Pieter!” It came from the depths of her soul, you could tell. “This is your life, your pussy!”

You face palmed yourself again. She had to go there.

“I’m serious. I know you’ve heard the rumors from that comedian he dated, and he swears his fingering is accurate, and you have seen his beard. A man with a beard like that is good for one thing.”

You screamed and died again. She was in prime form right now.

“Cassia.”

Groaning, you sat up and sighed out. “I gotta go Tiff, I’m supposed to have a video conference in ten minutes, and I’m sitting here in a towel. I’ll call you later.”

“When you call me, you better be telling me that you talked to that man,” Tiffany shouted out as you were ending the facetime call.

You quickly got yourself together, and presentable then made it to your office to prep for the conference with the scripts. Seeing how far behind you were with the scripts, you show the participants a quick email to push it back by a few hours. Then you buckled down to actually get some work done instead of thinking about the real reason Chris Evans had a beard.

Two hours later, you were on the conference and going through the script line for line, film direction after direction. If one script would have taken an hour to go through, then three took you triple the time. By the time you’d finished for the day, you were all talked out, exhausted, and starving. Glancing at your phone, you saw missed calls from Tiffany and your mother and groaned at the fact that it was after one in the morning. If you’d have known following your dreams meant bye-bye to normal sleep hours, then you may have thought twice.

With the craving for the most unhealthy crap raging within you, you got into your car and went for a drive. While the time meant not many were out, you knew anywhere in the heart of LA would be a mistake. You drove half an hour out of the way to Pasadena to the burger spot you found by accident. It was no Shake Shake, but it offered two of your favorite things in one place, Burgers and Pies.

As you walked inside the small shop, you smiled, grateful it was practically empty. You walked to the back of the retro style burger joint and sat in the last booth. Deciding it was safe to drop your disguise, you took off your hat and sunglasses and took a deep breath of the glorious smell of burger and pies. You weren’t waiting long before a waitress came over with a note pad.

“Welcome. Can I take your order?”

“Yes, the Big Ben burger with the works, please.” She looked at you like you were insane.

“Are you sure? That’s a big plate,” she warned. You smiled and nodded.

“Oh yeah. I haven’t eaten all day,” you assured.

“Okay. How would you like it?”

“Very well done, please.”

She nodded as she jotted your order down. “Anything to drink?”

“Ginger Ale with a lemon slice, please,” you finished before she nodded and walked away.

You really liked this place. It was one of the few places that still had a jukebox. Digging into your purse, you pulled out a quarter then walked to the device that wasn’t too far from the booth you’d chosen. As you perused the selections of old and new music, you tried to gauge the mood you were in. It had been a while since you were able to sneak away on your own. You were in the mood for some relaxation but a bit of fun. You tapped in the key combination and turned the knob, and waited for the tune to play. When the oldie by Rihanna “Pon de Replay” came on, you began flicking your hips from side to side until you began winding it. You heard the distant ring of a bell that signified someone else had entered the restaurant, but it didn’t register, you were too into the song.

When you really got into it, you dipped it low as instructed and began singing along. That was when your entire body got into it, and you tapped into your own inner bad gyal. When you turned around, you yelped loudly, drawing the attention of the waitstaff to you. Before you stood the person, you least expected to see. The crooked quirk of his lip gave him the most roguish look you’d ever seen, a look that shouldn’t have turned you on the way it had—but it did.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Chris teased with an impossibly deep voice. It never sounded that deep in interviews, you thought to yourself before your teeth sunk into your bottom lip. His cerulean eyes fell from yours to your mouth, and you watched as his tongue slowly slid across his lips. Your nipples beaded painfully, and you didn’t need to look down to know that if anyone looked, it would be more than noticeable.

Why are you turned on right now, you questioned in your head. There was no logical reason for it. Yes, he smelled—incredible. There was no way anyone should smell that good; it was impossible. He smelled like fruits, sea salt, sunshine, vanilla, and a very appealing musk. He smelled like he took four showers a day and took pride in being groomed to perfection. The more you thought about it, the harder your nipples got.

“Cat got your tongue?”

Clearing your throat, it came out most exaggeratedly with a long high pitch. Chris’s brows wrinkled as he looked at you as if there might have been something wrong with you.

“Uh—are you okay?”

Instead of words, it was terrifying giggles that came out, making you sound like a deranged, cackling Hyena. The look on Chris’s face only became more concerned. You cleared your throat again this time more naturally and straightened your back.

“What’re—what’re you doing—here?”

“In a public restaurant?”

“Yeah, this public space,” you clarified before you crossed your arms over your breasts. “It’s mine.”

“Yours? You own it?”

“No, but it’s my secret place.”

“Ah, I see. If it was so much of a secret, then how did I find it?”

He was contesting you, challenging you. It was at this moment you got the vibe from him that he was the type of man who liked to debate, compete, and win. A man like that should have had your red flags blaring, but no red flags were waving. The only thing that was waving in front of you was a deep curiosity to know this man in a way that you hadn’t wanted to know anyone before.

Shrugging, you walked back to your table and sat. He approached you all the while, never taking his eyes off of you. You bit your bottom and tried to keep your thoughts boring. Before either of you could speak again, the waitress came back with your order.

“Big Ben burger with the works and fries and a ginger ale with lemon slices.”

When she put it down, she looked to Chris, who dipped his head low and pulled down his hat. The woman looked as if she might have recognized him, but she didn’t speak; she just peered closer. You cleared your throat and slid your plate closer. It was enough to distract the woman.

“Will there be anything else, honey?”

“No, thank you.”

“And you? Will you be staying or going?”

Chris looked to you with one eyebrow raised. Your eyes met, and you saw the question in them. It was a mix of a question and a challenge. He expected you to answer. It would give you the control of the situation, and it would also make it so you’d have to blatantly turn him down in front of his face rather than ignoring him as you’d been doing the last few days. You bit your bottom lip and took a deep breath. You had enough balls to turn him down right here. You’d done worse to other guys—a lot worse. The question was, did you want to do it to him.

When you locked eyes with him again, an amused smile spread across his lips. You bit your bottom lip again and sighed.

“He will be staying,” you answered.

The waiter looked to you then to him and nodded. Chris slid into the booth before you still keeping eye contact. The longer he looked at you; the more unnerved you became.

“All right, what can I get you sugar?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#In The Act fic #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x ofc #black fanfiction #slow burn fanfic

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janiedean · 3 years

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Wait they fucked the SPN ending for Walker? How? And now the show is more conservative than the original, which was headlined by known conservative dumbass Chuck Norris? Ugh

tldr (I can attest in the sense that I did watch the very last episode and with everything I've seen until now...... it holds up)

basically from what it seems like they pushed so that the finale ep was sam focused so it would make ppl idk stick with jared and they didn't give dean time to shine or a basic excuse of a storyline at all before the dumbest death he could have had and jensen's obviously pissed

like... can imagine why he would be

also like nothing happened in that ep is2g I watched it live while it was happening and it was all..... filler? like I swear even the fillerest filler episode for any show I've watched had more stuff happening in it than the spn series finale which... was... bad

and like I remember walker promos airing every ten seconds when the ep was airing sssoooo

anyway apparently the cw got heavy on walker promoting and shit and got both jensen & misha shafted which like... I mean misha was def in vancouver for the finale but he wasn't in the ep and jensen spends 15 years playing dean for that?

and like now idk if the background rumors re jared not opposing any of that and basically screwing them over because it was convenient for his new show are true or not but if he is like... ofc jensen is pissed off

anyway like as stated I'm catching up on the whole thing now and with that in mind the finale looked like 'okay we wanted to do a thing but you execs told us that we couldn't and we had to do this this and that so we're going to do it in a way that sucks ass on purpose but that delivers what you wanted' even moreso than it did in the beginning like... it's not bad in the way any other bad finale I watched is bc AT LEAST SOMETHING HAPPENED IN THE OTHERS LITERALLY NOTHING HAPPENED IN THIS ONE I'm still trying to wrap my head around it tbh

NOW with this in mind I'mma gonna say what I told @emilysnora when the first walker casting stuff came out but basically

the remake has jared being walker blah blah and honestly I'm not even pronouncing myself on the whole 'I got the idea when reading the interview with the ICE policeman who felt conflicted abt putting kids in cages' because it's not my place to but honestly as your resident white european person it's... really... I mean the nicest I can say it's that it's a very privileged way of looking at it and he probably didn't mean it to be a racist thing buuuuuttt thaaat kind of iiiiisssss so there's that and on top of that we have that it's him plus: - hispanic partner in the force - gay brother who's like AN ATTORNEY FOR THE STATE so like... right wing gay dude? okay - his wife was dead before the entire shebang began so hello fridging before the plot even starts - I gave a quick look at the main cast and like there's one biracial dude plus lindsey morgan and they're the only two nonwhite ppl in the entire main cast (idk about the recurring but I'm talking about the MAINS) add to that the... background premise it's really not as progressive as it looks like honestly

now not to be like your resident person who's like BUT THE REP but like if y'all gonna do a show in 2021 about ppl in texas doing that job having to deal with keeping children in cages or latin american immigrants having all white ppl in the main cast except two of them is like.... kind of... not exactly what I'd do in this time and age

now with the premise that as stated I hate chuck norris's politics and I don't thing great of him as a person or anything else so like pls don't take this as chuck norris endorsement or anything

my grandfather used to be obsessed with it same as like apparently 90% of italian grandfathers bc everyone I know had at least one who loved that show so like I've seen my fair share of it back in the day and to my best recollection - basically no one was presuming it was like.... there to make a political statement it was basically chuck norris roundhouse kicking bad dudes coming from whichever background and saving the day the end but - walker himself had native american ancestry bc he was raised after his parents' death by his uncle who was played by floyd westerman who was like a prominent NA actor so like technically you had the lead who had NA ancestry himself plus there was like actual NA actors having a relevant role which like... bros not to be that asshole but last time I saw that in pseudo mainstream tv in the last ten years it was on a netflix show that lasted one season so make of that what you will, also there were at least two other NA supportive chars from the reservation they all came from like one was the sheriff and the other was a spiritual leader or smth but anyway it had three NA chars played by NA actors - walker's police partner/bff was black - he had the ongoing willtheywon'tthey romance with the district attorney or smth but she didn't get fridged actually she lasted the entire show but anyway like... there was no 'ah he had a wife who DIED BEFORE THE SHOW EVEN STARTED' plotline - in the last two seasons they had rookie rangers showing up and like I went to check on wikipedia to be sure but the girl is half filipina which again not a category that gets exactly much rep on american tv - there was a recurring dude who helped them out in cases but was from another police branch who was def latino (don't remember the background sorry but he def was) also like walker was a vietnam vet which imvho would be an improvement over 'I was undercover for eleven months and my wife died :((((' when it comes to give your main like.... a srs background but anyway the point was that new walker in between the mains has like two nonwhite ppl and if I look at the recurrings it looks like there's four ppl who are latin* but three of them are undocumented immigrants so like... bro there's some typecasting going on I see, old walker had NA/black/hispanic/filipino people in the main/supporting cast and none of them was like... typecast in the sense that they were all cops except two of the NA ones so it's not like they went out of their way to typecast and like obv og walker wasn't making the whole thing a political statement but looking at it...... it's still way more progressive than whatever the new one wants to be

yes even if chuck norris was headlining it

and I mean... again when you manage to reboot a show starring chuck norris of all ppl and you manage to make it less progressive than the og while thinking you're being progressive while rebooting it I mean as we say here ask yourself a few questions and give yourself a few answers, also like the entire point of og walker was crack where he kicks ppl and says doing drugs is bad, I honestly don't get why the fuck they had to reboot it instead of like having the guts to say we wanna do an original thing, bc like in order to say hey I wanna do a show about a conflicted cop on the texas border you really can just make it an original thing and own it not go like I'M REBOOTING WALKER TEXAS RANGER ROUNDHOUSE KICK CENTRAL EXTRAORDINAIRE but that's my two cents make of that what you will

#anonymous #ask post #sorry for the infodump i just watched a LOT of wtr back in the day #i'm here to provide the info for everyone who wasn't fortunate enough to experience 90s television #truly something™#i mean idt this was a hill anyone should have died on #esp when then THEY FUCK UP A 15YO RUNNING SERIES FOR THAT

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finleyjayne · 4 years

Text

Break A Leg

{Chapter 1: Auditions}

Summary: After your accident, everything in your life changed. Your shared dream of being on Broadway with your best friend, Amanda, was over. But just because YOU don’t think you want the same things in life doesn’t mean that your friend won’t see through you. Taking matters into her own hands, you end up at an audition you’re sure that you’ll fail since SHIELD Theater Company is known the world over for typecasting. And you don’t fit any of your typical actress types. Little do you know that the company’s new writer - nihilistic, pessimistic, and resident drunk; Bucky Barnes- is looking for someone out of their normal choices.

Characters: Female Reader, OFC Best Friend, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes, and all your other favorite Marvel Characters, hopefully in the long run it will end with a Bucky Barnes/Reader ship.

Series Warnings: Guys, this is based on my own experiences within the Acting community after gaining weight and height after an accident. There will be fat-shaming, mentions of eating disorders, unhealthy expectations, unhealthy coping mechanisms, also like bias based on looks.

A/N:this originally was inspired by @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan s follower celebration challenge. I was given the opportunity to use the text prompt “No fucks given, Next please.” Thank you Star! Thank you Thank you. Also a big thanks to the lovely @cavillanche for giving me a gentle nudge to write for myself and for being an amazing sounding board.

"Come oooooon, Y/N. I don't care if you don't want to go out. I haven't seen you in what feels like literal months. That's saying something since you know we LIVE together. I won't take no as an answer." Your best friend, Amanda, said as she flopped on top of you.

Amanda burst into your bedroom this morning at way-to-fucking-early o'clock in the morning, on a warpath to get you to come out with her. It didn't matter to her that you were finally getting some sleep after working all-nighters for the last week. There was no way to ignore her either, her sunny personality and eager persistence would cause you to roll over in your grave if she wanted you to.

With a groan, you smothered your complaints behind a gasping wheeze. "Kay, Manda, where are we going?"

She rolled off of you with a high-pitched squeal and used the momentum to pull you out of bed. "Yay! I have so much planned. I was talking to my manager about how well we used to work as a pair on stage. I may have mentioned how much I would kill to be the Penny to your Tracy. Or the Meg to your Christine. The Judy to your Betty. The Glinda to your Elphaba." Her words started to fade into background noise as she milled on about the parts you had once wanted to play together.

The dream used to be that you both would move here, to New York, and play in all of the big theaters on Broadway together. Sadly, your broadway dreams were not as much of a reality as Amanda's were. And you were okay with that. You were thrilled for Amanda. Living vicariously through your best friend, helping her prepare for her shows while working as a Math tutor and Accountant for a local firm.

It didn't help that you weren't necessarily what people consider the typical standard of beauty. Standing just under six feet tall, a little plushy about the middle, and some nasty scar tissue leaving one of your legs in a constant state of ghostly paleness. Not that people notice since you tend to find yourself just as pale as the damaged tissue. After so many failed auditions, you figured your best life was lived outside of the theater. You were happy, and honestly, you are kinda glad that you are where you are.

"....So hurry up, I'll pick your outfit, we have an appointment with Rijah in half an hour." Amanda finished pushing you into the little cubical shower. When did she turn it on? Where are we going? Needless to say, you did what she asked and stuffed down your confusion, focusing on waking up more before you accompanied her to yet another one of her 'private' lessons with your pianist friend.

Thirty minutes later, you were dressed, primped, polished, and not all that much more awake. Amanda stuffed a binder of music into your hand as Elijah spread his copy over the lip of his pristinely kept upright. "You know this song, I think it will be perfect. A little overplayed, but with a fresh interpretation, they'll overlook it. All you have to do is sing. They are bound to cast you. I've worked with them before, and Director Rogers values skill over appearances. So we'll show them your ability, and he'll love you."

Looking at your rambling best friend, Your confusion amplifies. Your jaw cracks as you don't even try to stifle another yawn. You rub your eyes, not questioning her pushiness. "Uuuuhhhhh, okay?" You scan through the score, making note of the cut before looking to the triangular-shaped man sitting on the piano bench. Since you had already been taken through the typical vocal warm-ups by Amanda while she played dress up this morning. You smile at your expectant friend/accompanist. "Will you give me a playthrough with the melody line in it as a refresher, please, Rijah, Repeat, and I'll join you?"

"Of course," He said sweetly with a nod, turning to the keys and playing. Quietly you hummed along, mentally noting which registers each phrase should be sung in. Where the notes would be stretched, what you would use to your advantage. The accompaniment was simple, repeated strummed chords like most modern musical use. It gives freedom rhythmically when it comes to melodies. You could have fun with the piece. Smiling to yourself, you open your mouth and join the simplified accompaniment on the repeat.

When the second run-through finishes with a very extravagant arpeggiation. There is a moment of complete stillness as the resonance leaves the space. You are high on the feelings of intense emotion and absolute peace, yet somehow buzzing with unlocked energy. You miss this feeling, of connection with everything and nothing, The feeling of knowing that you did something right, it's heady, and it drives you to ask yourself why you ever stopped performing for a brief second. Amanda was always saying that she would drag you to an audition one of these days if you didn't get over yourself.

You are knocked out of your musical high by Amanda's enthusiastic clapping. Elijah looks at you with a smirk, opens his mouth, and is swiftly cut off by your friend. "God, Y/N. They won't be able to stop themselves as soon as you open your mouth!" You smile at her very biased opinions. Before she can get any crazy ideas like dragging me along to more than just her sessions with Elijah, you place the binder the music into her hands, "Why don't we go over Take me or leave me? After all, this is your rehearsal time, I'm just here to help you."

Amanda gives you a devious smirk as she nods. "Sure. You heard the woman, 'Rijah." She sends him a sly wink that you are too tired to really read much into. He just nods with a conspiratory smile and spreads the music for the RENT song over the previous.

"Whenever you are ready, ladies," He says when he's ready. Sighing internally, you place yourself back into your 'supportive friend' role, playing out the simplified blocking of Amanda's latest show.

Before you even fully realize it, your hour with 'Rijah was over, and Amanda was pulling you into a nearby taxi to your next destination. "If you don't let me at least have a coffee, I will not be held accountable for my actions, Woman." You warn your best friend as you eye her. You were starting to worry that you would need to be more awake for whatever plans she had for the rest of the day, You were now to the point where you could see her scheming something, but were still too out of it to figure out what it was.

She looked at you, trying to hide behind her mask of sickeningly-sweet innocence. I knew this look and all that it implied, and it worked to shake me into a slight panic of what she was walking me into. "I don't know what you mean, Y/N. I told you where we were going this morning, I promise this is the last stop before we can go home and you can sleep the rest of the night away. But if things go as I hope, we may have a repeat of this occasion sooner rather than later." The taxi pulls up at a building with a line heading out the door and around the corner.

That's when it hits you; That promise that Amanda had made to you all those months ago about dragging you to an audition wasn't just one of those 'get moving your ass, or I'll move it for you' speeches to get you out of bed, she was going to do it. No, she wasn't going to do anything. Amanda had already done it. She had gotten you into an audition.

You were suddenly wide awake. The knowledge that you were at an NYC Broadway audition, with your best friend hitting you like Celie's babies being alive in The Color Purple. It is unexpected but brought with it such excitement and fear all at once. You grasped onto Amanda's arm. "Amanda Jenivive Brendon, if this is some kind of joke, I don't know if I can forgive you. Please say this is not some kind of joke." The words are a desperate snarl. The hope pressing against your chest mixed with the fear that you jumped to incorrect conclusions was absolutely unbearable.

Amanda lets out a loving laugh before playfully scowling at you. "You really haven't been listening to a single thing I've said to you all day, have you?" The accusation was slightly bitter, but you knew she was laughing on the inside.

You squeeze her arm as your panic escalates. What am I going to do? How am I going to do this? What if they don't accept me just because of how I look? Shit, what am I going to do about a resume? Your vision blurs as you watch your best friend take your hand, leading you into the building past the line of girls and down a hallway to a dance studio styled room.

She leads you to a table set before the long wall of mirrors where a cute little redhead sits. Taking out a binder and handing her two sets of papers, "Hey Wanda, It's good to see you. Is it standard issue today?"

With a bright smile, Wanda accepts the papers. "Sure is Amanda, Do you need a copy of the company notes, or do you still know them by heart?"

Amanda chuckles before shaking her head, "I don't need a set, but you probably should give one to Y/N here, She could use the distraction of going through all the legal jargon while we wait."

Wanda's eyes grew wide as she turned to face you. "Y/N? As in 'shower singer Y/N'? Oh my Atlanta, Buck is going to lose his shit!" She jumps up and claps her hands. "I gotta go tell them!"

Amanda's hand snaps out to stop the woman from leaving. "Hey, none of that. I want to see their surprise when they hear her, especially after Tony's last casting rant."

Wanda immediately calms, her face splitting into a devious smirk. "OOOOooo, you are evil. I love it. Want me to film it for you?"

"It's like you read my mind," Amanda says, turning to see your expression of confusion. "Y/N, hey, Y/N/N? You in there?" She snaps her fingers lightly in your face. "Come on, girl. Wanda here is the Stage Manager for the SHIELD Theater Company."

"Wait, what?" Your voice cracks as your heart hammers even harder into your ribs. SHIELD Theater Company was one of the prominent troupes in New York. They were world-famous, they were the equivalent to The Royal Shakespeare Company in America. Were you at an audition for them? I thought you had to be part of a Union to even be considered for an audition with them!

"Really, Y/N? Still not paying attention? Come on, let's take a seat, stretch a bit. before they put us through our paces." Her eyes are bright with amusement as she sticks your number on the left side of your dress.

"I'm sorry? In my defense, I have had a total of 8 hours of sleep in the last week. So not the point, though!" You follow her to a set of chairs in the room. At her reproachful glare, when your voice breaches into a louder panicked screech, you take a few breaths before continuing in a harried whisper. " I mean, how am I even here? I am not Unionized, I haven't paid my dues for months! I don't have-" Your internal concerns continue to pour out of your mouth as Amanda slams her palm over your mouth.

"Hey, take a deep breath for me, Y/N. I need you to stay conscious... maybe I should have gotten you a coffee before we came, but you always complain that it makes your vocals all gummy." You rip her hand off of your mouth, eyes flashing with annoyance.

"Hey, you're the one who woke me from my first decent sleep this week, you can't really blame me for being a little lack-of-sleep drunk. And Coffee does make me phlegmy, but, again, that is not the point. The point is now that I know what you've set up, how can it be possible?" You whisper scream at the aggravatingly calm Amanda.

She rolled her eyes, "Well, I told you I was going to make our dreams come true, and I have had enough of your lame excuses about how you don't want to get back on the horse. But I saw you today. You WANT to be here. I've seen your secret tears when you go over our old cast photos. I hear you belting in the shower, so I've taken it upon myself to continue paying your dues to the AEA, and cashed in a favor with my agent to sign both of us up for this particular call."

Before you could make a rebuttal, seven people walked into the room that had slowly filled with fifty or so women while you were distracted. A short brunette plants himself in the center of the mirrored wall as the others take seats next to Wanda behind the white foldable table.

"Welcome, ladies, It is inspiring to see all of your beautiful faces. Before we start, I wanted to say a few words. First, thank you for taking the time to come and audition with us today.

"As you know, we only hold one set of auditions for the full season and look at that, all of you have made the initial cut for this season. Now it's time for the fine-tuning. Just know that even if you don't make it into our troupe this year, it's nothing personal. We have a specific set of personalities and abilities that we are looking for. If you don't make it this year with us, don't be afraid to come back next season.

"Now, to kick off this lovely party, let's have you line up, no particular order." The man smirks, and you gasp as you realize who the cocky man is: Tony Stark. You were being lined up for your first NYC cattle call by the eccentric, theatrical genius Tony Stark. You didn't know whether to be honored or terrified. He had a notorious reputation as a type-caster, and the only type he favored was the short, petite woman. FUCK.

Amanda dragged you into the line as she plastered a knowing smile on her face, "Just remember, sing. if you open your mouth, let that beautiful song sing from your heart."

"Sure, whatever you say," you reply to her whispered reassurances, holding your head up high as the legendary man started down the line."No, No, Yes, Yes, Yes, Sorry, Sure, Yes. Not this time, sweets. No, Sorry, Yes, Yes, Yes... " And so on until he reached Amanda. "Miss Brandon, nice to see you again. I look forward to hearing your choices today."

"Same to you, Mr. Stark, and I look forward to showing you my progress from last year."

"Good, good" His eyes crinkled as he smiled at her for another few seconds before skipping over you entirely, "yes, yes, yes, No…"

Well, it looks like you made it through the first cut, Amanda drags you back to where you left your purse and Amanda's backpack. She shares a conspiratory glance with Wanda, who just rolls her eyes. "Take a deep breath, then they'll start pulling us up in small groups to rotate through our song choices."

"Amanda, I'm pretty sure you voodooed Stark into overlooking me." Amanda just laughs.

"Sure, whatever you wanna tell yourself. I think it was just you being here, it's fate." Now it's your turn to roll your eyes at your friend's everlasting optimism.

Once Stark finishes going down the line, he takes his place back front and center. "Okay, ladies, now it's time for the fun bit. I'm sure you were all smart cookies and gave Wanda your music cuts along with your resumes, so now it's time to put those voices to work. We'll call you up in trios. Wanda will read out your name and call number, Thor will wait for you to count out a tempo before playing for you. Wanda?" Stark calls out the woman before taking his seat behind the table.

Wanda smiles brightly, calling out the first three people as the Hulking blond man stands from the table and makes his way to the piano. Wow, I hope I don't mess this up. It's not just my ass on the line anymore. You are brought back out of your thoughts by a gentle tug on your arm.

"Stop overthinking things, you'll do fine, Your resume is prime, your song choice is brilliant, and like they couldn't choose someone more theatre conscious if they had hired Idina Menzel."

You shudder at the actress's name, "I would hope so, she's terrible."

"Yet she had been a mainstay in theater for years."

"So what, just goes to show people don't necessarily want talent. They want beautiful mutants who can screech out songs without killing their vocal cords."

"Y/N, Shut the fuck up. You can do the same things, you may not sing in a scream like she can, but you know how to sing, you can dance- don't give me that look I caught you practicing your fouettes last week- and more importantly, you can connect. You connect in everything, you have so much to offer, and I know that once these people hear you, they will hire you. I know it."

You sigh, you weren't sure that everything she was saying was true, but you knew that she believed the words with all of her heart and didn't want to be the reason her hope died. So you just sighed in resignation before turning to the group that was in the midst of their auditions. They were outstanding, and the longer you went on, the more self-conscious of your own lack of preparation. Subconsciously you reached out to grab Amanda's hand and ended up clutching onto her dress front.

"Amanda, Amanda, I don't deserve to be here." Your hushed whisper, dragging harsh against your throat. Your chest tightening, your panic acting as a hangman's noose. "Amanda, I don't know what I'm singing. Amanda, what is it from? What is the song's name? How will I slate if I don't even know the name of the song? Wait, what is MY name? " Your breath started to tear through your lungs, your sinuses stung with oncoming tears.

"Y/N, take a breath, let go before you give everyone an unexpected flash." Amanda's whispered reply was almost biting in its directness. Even if you consciously didn't hear the words, her tone cut the noose from your neck. Your lungs immediately expanded with much-needed air, your fingers loosening their grip to let her replace the fabric with her own firm grip. "Good girl, now, Y/N, what is your name?"

"Uhhhhhh…" Even if you were calming down, your brain was still coming back to grips.

"The next three are as follows: Y/N Y/L/N, Amanda Brendon, and Savannah Moffat." Wanda's lyric call cut through the silence that had filled the studio while you were trying to remember your name.

You stood automatically, all your years of auditioning kicked you into performance autopilot. Your shoulders take their place slightly back, head high, chest on display, the skirt of your dress flowing around your thighs as if they were the mist rolling over the valley at dawn. Your face hid the horror that was filling your mind, it didn't matter that you didn't remember the name of your song, you were Y/N Y/L/N. You could fake it till you make it to perfection. Amanda was right, all you have to do is sing, and they will see you. It doesn't matter if you don't look like you used to, you are still capable, and even if you don't make it, you can't say that you didn't try. Just remember what Doctor Ellis said, 'every audition is a performance, even if they don't choose you, you were able to perform.' You can do this. After all, you sang it this morning, you could see the sheet music just behind your eyelids when you close your eyes. Just keep breathing.

Amanda gave your hand a final squeeze as she recognized the look of horrified determination in your eyes. Smiling to herself as she saw the bored looks on the panelists' faces. She met eyes with Wanda, who gave her a smirk nudging the blond man sandwiched between her and Tony. Turning his attention to your regal appearance before Tony also decided to look up from whatever was so important on his phone.

You opened your mouth to introduce yourself, and Tony's voice filled the space clearly, saying the words that had shattered your own will to find your auditions.

"I'm sorry I must have missed you before. There is no need for you to sing today, collect your things."

Your face fell into an imitation of a polite smile as your brain processed the rejection. Guess Amanda really did save me from being culled. Before you can say or do anything, though, the blond man sitting next to Tony spoke.

"Tony, you had your chance. Now it's my turn to decide whether or not she is cast. Now sit down."

"No, it isn't too late, Steve. I bankroll this group I get to have a say. And I won't have someone who looks like her representing my Acting Company."

"You already had your say. Now sit down and let the girl sing."

"No," Stark turns from the blond man and back to you. "No fucks given, Next, please."

CHAPTER TWO

#Marvel #reader insert #star's celebration challenge #Theater Company AU #Slow burn Fanfiction #stole my boyfriend's computer to write this.#he wasn't happy #It died twice #what even #also like leave me an ask or something #ofc fic #fins reads #fins' fic recs #fins' recs #fins recs fics #fanfiction #fic reblog

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that-thing-that-feeling · 6 years

Note

Charlie's IMDB is pretty dry other than New Mutants he hasn't booked anything. Joe is suffering the same thing on his IMDB. Do you think the older teens on Stranger Things are cursed?

ha, anon, well…

okay, so post s2, of the older “teens,” Natalia has done really well; she has a number of projects coming out, and several of them are particularly interesting (Velvet Buzzsaw with Jake Gyllenhaal, Tuscaloosa, Yes God Yes feature). I don’t know what the deal is with Joe–given his fame post s2, you’d think he would have done something before they started filming s3. I wonder if it could be he’s getting offers that are Steve/Ferris Bueller, and he doesn’t want to be typecast/wants to get far away from meme-ing. But maybe someone has a better guess on that.

As for Charlie…I mean that seems potentially complicated. He hasn’t been cast in anything since s2, whereas he had been on a roll getting cast before then (like he had basically been working back-to-back since he started acting until now). It’s true that s2 wasn’t exactly a great showcase for his talent, but, of course, it’s release also coincided with LAX and in the combination, it seemed like his popularity, and potential marketability, might have taken a hit (and I think that stuff does matter to casting directors, though, I’m not sure how much that would affect things like indie films, etc.) Also, obviously, he wasn’t allowed into the US for about four months, so that could have affected things. And then, ofc, he started filming ST pretty soon after he was back. So, yeah, I’m really curious to see when he’s hired again and to what extent LAX impacted him getting roles. But I don’t think we’d have a sense of that until after ST is done filming in October–it will be interesting to see if he has any new projects after then. although, also, new mutants reshoots (if they happen) could complicate that. But, yeah, in any case, hire him, you cowards.

#charlie heaton #good topic imo #point is to see these people act #anon

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degenezijde · 6 years

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Warning: rant about teaching ahead. It boils down to me wanting to be a better teacher with engaged pupils, Facebook throwing ideas, and me going 'nnnnnno not like that' (as a pupil I like it best to be taught the theory, shown an example, and to follow that. No 'discover by yourself' bullshit; I'm way to insecure for that)

Teacher one: I have pupils take the 16 personalities test (you know, the 4 letter one tumblr loves so much) and then adapt my classes to each personality

Me: you prepare 16 versions of the same class?? Also, isn't it boring for pupils to always have to be 'an explorer'? Aren't you typecasting them? I dislike the thing where people go 'everyone is an individual and their specific needs should be catered to' and then divide those individuals into 4 groups (learning styles, if you know those. 4, 16, same difference). Could the teaching community please stop taking pseudopsychology as gospel truth. I'm having my pupils take a phrenology test next year, and I'm throwing everyone out that doesn't have language bump.

Teacher 2: I motivate pupils by having everyone take a test at the end of every class. If you get 80%, you're exempt from the real test.

Me: firstly, way to fuck people with bad short time memories. Secondly, I had a friend in high school who never studied for tests, only read what she had to know 5 minutes beforehand and it was enough for her to pass. Ofc, she forgot everything after and sucked at implementing the knowledge on exams. You need to sleep on what you learn to get it to stick. Thirdly, how the fuck do you have time for a test after every class? You can probably make it 10 minutes max - so it's nowhere near comparable to a 50 minute test. You can't compare someone acing a 10 minute test on something they pulled out of their short time memory to someone studying for and finishing a test of 50 minutes.

Anyway, that was my rant. I started writing it while waiting on my interpreting client, and finished it after. And as the job was interpreting a 50 minute history class, my views haven't changed. The poor teacher didn't get anything done. The more teachers I see, the more I'm convinced teaching hangs on a combination of charisma and sheer dumb luck.

#koni is a terrible teacher #long post #There is no magical formula I'm just a small lady with a small voice

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namjoohyuk · 3 years

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i mean yeah i totally agree w hsh being typecast, but calling it white woman victim-y is kinda weird ngl esp bc she obviously plays asian women and asian women can also be flawed 😭 despite whatever spoilers you’ve read abt nevertheless (idk anything myself), i hope you’ll be able to warm up to her eventually bc at the end of the day she’s just an actress who’s doing her job y’know

ouh I apologize I don’t think I realized the repercussions of what I said when I said it. you’re absolutely correct that asian women are def allowed to be flawed and I won’t ever label that white woman victim-y ever again.

I simply haven’t enjoyed her past characters and ofc it’s wrong to take it all out on her, but like I said I don’t hate sohee. I haven’t backed out of watching anything simply bc she’s in it. I don’t necessarily enjoy park shinhye’s acting (miss girl is ALWAYS crying) but I still watched MOTA and some of her movies. it’s just simple annoyance that I’m sure I can get over after a couple of projects.

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prinzenhasserin · 6 years

Text

Chocolate Box Exchange

Dear Chocolatier!

Please don’t feel obligated to use my prompts! This letter is just in case you might want to poke at some more of my prompts/likes. Generally, I’m open to a lot, and I will be delighted with any rating from gen to explicit. My AO3 account is here.

My prompts may tend to the longer side, but I’d love just a snippet or a scene from any of them, or illustrations of any of the scenes, too ❤️

(If this letter cribs a lot from my other letters, it’s because I’m lazy, and my likes don’t change around that much :D You can find some of my other letters under the exchange letter tag. I hope you have fun creating!)

General likes:

loyalty

odd couples!

found family, dysfunctional families that nevertheless love each other

historical stories for same-sex pairings that aren't unhappy but that fit with the society of the time (so like, spinster ladies living together; bachelors-for-life)

cultural differences! age differences! height differences!

heists, rescue missions

character driven narratives

dragons, fairy tales, magical realism, urban fantasy

Space AUs

competent characters

people not realising they’re the most competent at their job/hobby

people failing their way to success

happy endings, earning your happy ending, open yet hopeful endings

cynical humour

mutual pining

everything is better in suits, corsetry, fancy dresses

Identity shenanigans (secret identities, mistaken identities)

Blatant Lies

Enemies becoming friends and/or lovers

outsider POV

epistolary, poetry, unusual narrative formats

orange/blue morality (that is, not entirely human morality); grey/grey morality

non-verbal expressions of affection

Art likes:

sketches!

textures!

background!

lavishly designed worlds and setting!

Kisses! Sleeping Together!

Trees!

Colours! Black and White! Sepia!

Explicit art! beauty spots and scars! hair!

Kinks:

wall sex

shifting power dynamics

semi-public sex

lots of foreplay, drawn out orgasms, edging

desperate sex, drunk sex, we-just-can’t-help-it!sex, sex for life-affirming

sex toys

sex toys in public (though I get embarrassed if someone else notices)

General dislikes:

infidelity in mentioned pairings

suicide

non-con (dub-con is totally fine though; as are consent issues due to power imbalances, people not knowing all the facts, or drunken sex-pollen-escapades)

permanent character death

unrequited love between requested pairings

non-canon nicknames

Gokusen (art+fic)

(Pairing: Sawada Shin/Yamaguchi Kumiko)

How do I love this so much? I have no idea. I’m not even near high school age anymore, and yet the plot (and tbh, sometimes its ridiculous nature) always gets to me. I’d read more about any aspect of this canon though I am a little more partial to the manga, for giving me more content ;), and if you want to bring in any other characters, feel entirely free to. Post-canon would be great, but anything goes really.

How does Shin convince Yankumi to have sex with him? (A wonderful fic I got was with plenty of bad yakuza movies, which :D :D :D but I am always open for more! Maybe Shin speaks to Kumiko’s competitive spirit? Maybe he asks her to spite the police commissioner, by doing it in his house? Maybe there is some heavy kissing because they are trying to escape thugs/police/Kumiko’s students?) Is he getting kidnapped left and right before they actually get together because all and sundry already think they’ve been doing each other for years?

If they are already in an established relationship, how does Shin deal with Yankumi’s students (especially when one of them develops a crush)?

I’d be also super interested to see how other people view their relationship, like Shin’s father, Kumiko’s grandfather, the other yakuza groups, her students-- or simply Kumiko and Shin setting out to fight an up-and-coming group of delinquents, rescuing kittens, or Shirokin, from an overzealous school commissioner?

I have no problems about depicting violence, or graphic criminal activities, but please no major crimes involving children.

Inuyasha (art+fic)

(Paring: Inuyasha/Sesshoumaru)

I am here for all the contrived reasons to get them together. Hate!sex? Yes! Sex Pollen? You got me! Arranged marriage by their dad to keep dog demons with dog demons? I am here!

What I like is their contemptuous relationship with each other, that nevertheless evolves -- I like that they claim to not spit on the other if they were on fire, but when push comes to shove, they do help each other, and defend the other from their enemies. I like that they are halfbrothers, that they clearly recognise the power in each other, the underlying class issues, and all.

How about a small snippet of them teaming up together? Surprised by sex pollen, or a gender-changing well? time loops would be awesome! as would Inuyasha and Sesshomaru meeting again in the future, with Inuyasha time-travelling and Sesshomaru getting there the conventional way. Would also read soulmates!fic, or a sleeping beauty AU

I see both Inuyasha and Sesshomaru as fairly aggressive and forthright, and would prefer you not to characterise either of them as submissive (outside the bedroom).

Miss Marple (art+fic)

(Pairing: Miss Marple/OFC)

I am a fan of Miss Marple. I, too, have lived in a quiet town where you can see into the abysses of the human condition :D

I’d love to read something that lead her to the person we know her as, maybe when she went to the girl school in Switzerland? Maybe during her time in the cypher division, during the war — maybe the cypher division was really a cover for Miss Marple’s spy activities for the war office?

I’d also love fic about her as we know her: spending time in St. Mary Mead’s and solving crimes, quietly knitting her nephew another sweater. Was she maybe in love with a woman the whole time? Did she quietly retire into a cottage with her best friend, and everyone knows but doesn’t really?

Depending on when you set it, I would also love Miss Marple in a relationship one wouldn’t expect of her -- with a rival maybe? An enemy spy? A crossdressing motorcyclist, or a authoress of mystery novels. I would love an outsider POV on that! Or a 5 Times someone was surprised by Miss Marple’s companion thing.

Harry Potter (art+fic)

(Pairing: Amelia Bones/Minerva McGonagall)

I’d love to see a slow blossoming romance in the halls of the ministry, when they both started out as Aurors. Or maybe they are rivals, always competing for the same spots on specialisation teams and then, sparks fly, and there’s tension filled hate-sex? Maybe Minerva is Amelia’s auror trainer, or her superior officer, and Amelia keeps breaking the spirit of the rules while following the letter in the interest of capturing a culprit?

Would also read a story set later, when Minerva is already a Professor at Hogwarts! I love tiny extra bits of worldbuilding that show the inherent magic in the setting (like magic knitting needles, or self-filling tea sets)

(Feel free to disregard their entire backgrounds on Pottermore.)

Original Works (fic)

If you’d like to go wild with the pairings alone, that would be delightful! Otherwise, here are some thoughts:

Bored Female Physics Prof who Built a Time Machine Last Week/Female Human Intergalactic Ambassador

Long suffering Intergalactic Ambassador trying to reign in the mad genius that’s been time-travelling across history! What is there not to love?

Or; Intergalactic Ambassador is stranded on Earth and now this remarkable (beautiful, brilliant) woman has built a time machine with which she can get back to her people

adventures through time and space! physics prof trying to woo her lady love and getting stuck in time loops instead, and her lady love having to rescue her!

Classic Hollywood Female Screenwriter/Classic Hollywood Actress

they have a longterm relationship behind scenes

Screenwriter keeps writing roles for Actress, who is very annoyed at being typecast all the time and keeps bugging the writer about being a hack, and the Screenwriter is very condescending about her acting talents --> hatesex ensues

a happy ending for expies of Greta Garbo/Mercedes de Acosta maybe?

5 Times the press walked in on them having sex and didn’t realise it

Demon Brother/Half Demon Brother | Demon Hunter

idk, idk (I WANT IT LIKE BURNING) uhm, yes.

tempestuous relationships! drawn out seduction that devolves into physical confrontations!

xeno? vaguely inhuman anatomy? yes! sex pollen! ritual sex to do stuff!

maybe demon hunting together, demon brother freaking out that he’s a traitor to his race? demon hunter brother freaking out that he’s a traitor to his people? yet both of them not being able to resist each other

soulbonds

I’d like a happy or open ending, please!

Down-On-Her-Luck Aristocrat Forced to Become Barista/Emperor in Civilian Disguise

... this would be great set in SPACE. Fantasy? or 19th century Austria, either way, I am here for it

I am not to set on any gender! (The civilian disguise could even be crossdressed, for extra tropey-ness)

secret dates that lead to more! sneaking around to find a place to have sex in! and then it turns out they met before, and they have been lying to the other the whole time!

escaping bodyguards -- one thinks they are there for his debts, the other to collect him to the palace!

revolution? weird government shenanigans? reams of paperwork? beleaguered bureaucrats?

Fake Paranormal Investigator TV Host/Trolling Supernatural Creature

maybe the supernatural creature thinks the hotline for the show is a real helpline, and asks for help with the infestation of pixies, and then falls in love with the host and trolls him forever?

maybe the tv host keeps accidentally stumbling upon their real lair

prank calls: “Uhh, there’s a werewolf in my kitchen” and when the film crew arrives, there’s only the caller (who happens to be a werewolf)

Female Detective/Female Supervillain in Disguise

moral quandaries! maybe the detective figured it out way before, and didn’t say anything for plausible deniability

maybe the supervillain seduced them to keep her off track, and fell in love for real? and now she’s scared of saying anything at all?

maybe they both go to the same club to relax, sex happened, and now that they wake up they realise what they have done! most awkward morning after ever

Female Mob Boss/Female Undercover Detective

in SPACE! modern times! 1940s on the home front!

is it a planned seduction? does the detective set out to get secrets during pillow talk?

is it an unplanned seduction? does the detective have no other explanation for being in this gay club rn, and they have sex?

are they trying to seduce secrets out of each other, and more importantly, does it end with the both of them blowing this entire popsicle stand and eloping together to the wilderness?

Also here for pure smut: hate sex, switching power dynamics, ill-advised drunken one-night stands, sex for blackmail reasons

Female Pirate/Female Naval Officer

I would love this pairing in any setting, Mediterranean pirates of pre-Roman Empire, Egyptian pirates, Chinese pirates, privateers, pirates of the Caribbean, pirates in SPACE, smugglers…

Did they know each other before? Is the naval Officer perhaps a point of contact for the crown for a privateer? I like an aspect of danger in my ships, but I don’t like totally unredeemable characters.

Does the pirate capture the naval officer for ransom? To seduce her to the dark side? hate!sex! stranded on an island/planet with sex pollen!

Does the naval officer capture the pirate, and the pirate seduces her for her freedom? Or both at once?

Female Regency Crossdressing Rake/Regency Bluestocking

They meet at a ball, and flirt. Then they meet again at the next ball (or the theatre, or gambling halls) and their relationship continues. The crossdressing Lady is very worried about being actually a woman, and pretending to be a man, but the other Lady found out the very first night and is totally cool with it.

How does the crossdressing work? Is she pretending to be her own brother because he’s off to Gretna Green (or wherever) to get married, or do people dismiss the rumours that she’s a lady because of her general attitude?

There are no tropes that could make this bad for me! :D

I would enjoy this in a world without homophobia, just as I would enjoy this if they had to pretend to be a heterosexual couple forever (though I would enjoy it more if they had the support of at least one of their friends/family, or a community behind them)

Female Selkie/Original Female Character

I did not have space for the anglerfish selkie or the squid selkie, so clearly i compromised. Plain selkies are also awesome!

OFC is manning a selkie rescue station -- she steals back stolen skins; and never has she been so tempted to keep this one

OFC is a ship captain, who is rescued by the selkie and falls in love

OFC is a fisherwoman, who catches a selkie accidentally, and then retires in the lighthouse

King (Elderly)/Evil Vizier

hatesex! confused boners! a scheme plotted out by the King to secure the reign of his heir

the King is blackmailed into a relationship by his vizier, and he could try to resist, but doesn’t because he likes to be submissive in bed, and it’s so hard to find good doms at his age

they have been pining for each other for all of the King’s reign, and during a terrorist attack (?) they are sex pollened

Librarian/Patron With A Very Overdue Library Book

Librarian is part of a secret cabal of librarian assassins, and they hunt the patron down

The book is alive and doesn't want to go back to the library. It keeps on sneaking back into the patron's backpack to leave with them,

the patron is a ghost, trying to return a book from 200 years ago

hatesex

Patron with late book is actually using it in his attempts to summon the Old Ones and has already lost some sanity points in his attempts, he refuses to return the book until he is successful

The book is one of a kind and contains some secret ciphers and codes that are needed in the on-going plot to save the world. However, the patron ends up needing to also borrow some other unique books from the same library and struggles with explaining this to the unamused librarian who has a waiting list for that first book.

idk, idk, i have no ideas, but i’d love absolutely anything, and i am thirsty

time-travel! set in space! passive-aggressive notes back and forth! the patron tries to insist on their perceived superiority! and then they have to donate enough money to fund an entire new children’s department!

Loyal Knight/Professional Gambler Crossdressing As a Woman

confused boners

why the crossdressing? just because? does it confuse his gambling partners? the people he’s in debt to?

i can only tell you that i’d be into it

set in space! set in a fantasy hub! Star Wars AU! Italian Renaissance! 18th century France!

New Male Supervillain Struggling to Control Superpowers/Superhero

supervillain becomes accidental villain because of their destructive powers, superhero tries to redeem him

supervillain’s power is mind altering, and he thinks he is influencing the superhero with his powers, but the superhero has a really terrible crush on them

supervillain thinks his power is mind altering, when in fact it’s something else

supervillain’s powers are mind altering, and he seduces the superhero, and rescues him from the government who had them working for free? idk, this isn’t planned out that well

superhero seduces supervillain to do good

Pirate/Pirate

I would love pirates absolutely anywhere, Scottish smugglers, piracy on rivers, Mediterranean pirates of pre-Roman Empire, Egyptian pirates, Chinese pirates, privateers, pirates of the Caribbean, pirates in SPACE.

f/f pairings would be great, just as m/m pairings, or f/m, whatever floats your boat (heh)

Two different pirate ships try to stop a ship of loot/weapons/high profile people from arriving at its location. Two of the opposite crew fall in love along the way.

The First Mate oils their muscles, and it’s the best thing that ever happened to this bosun (or the worst, depending). There are various bets about the futility of this most obvious crush.

The smuggling cave is only accessible during low tide, and it’s only known to the pirates, yet their stash of high-grade alcohol/sauerkraut/sails/unobtainium keeps vanishing, and so they set out a trap, and it turns out to be another pirate who needs it to help heal some other dudes.

The captain is so throughly annoyed by two of his crew members, he makes them sleep in the same cabin (or the hammocks nearest to each other) for the entire voyage, and they keep falling into the wrong bed because of reasons. (Optionally, hate-sex — or they are united by their hatred for this clearly unreasonable captain and overthrow him.)

Regency Lizard Monster Coffee Shop Owner/Down-on-His-Luck Aristocrat

here for xeno! or urban fantasy! or space coffee shops!

is the lizard monster pretending to be a human, and the aristocrat finds out but nobody wants to believe him?

does the aristocrat want a job, but fails at How to greet a Lizard Monster 101?

Royal Uncle Looking to Inherit/King's Pirate Captain Identical Twin

identity shenanigans! hate sex! court intrigue!

does the royal uncle know about the identical twin, or was he raised in secret for assassination prevention, and now he roams the Seven Seas, or the space equivalent of that

the identical twin seduces the uncle, so that they can inherit together

the King deliberately introduces his two heirs to each other so they can fight it out, and they have plenty of hatesex

Successful Businesswoman/High School Rival

hatesex behind the bleachers on their 10th highschool anniversary

hatesex during their unexpected meeting at the new gallery opening in town! and then their best friends get married to each other, and much embarrassment all around

Supervillain/Superhero's Sidekick

hatesex, sexpollen

trying to seduce secrets out of each other! identity shenanigans! moral quandaries!

Female BNF/Female fandom newcomer

... look, i just want to know where this is going, okay? I’d love something inspired by Mina de Malfois; or like, whatever!

is there fandom wank about it? is it just a quiet lovely back and forth?

Crossover Fandoms (art+fic)

Victoria Winslow (RED)/Female M (Bond)

Victoria as one of M’s double Os; headstrong and stubborn and a loose canon

did they know each other before M became M? (was there hatesex, and now it’s an awkward relationship that might turn into more?)

Victoria Winslow breaks into M’s apartment with the intent to seduce her; M is prepared for the entry, but expected a man, and now Victoria is there

Victoria is in trouble somewhere, and M accidentally rescues her; Victoria has to show her her appreciation someway

Susan Pevensie (Narnia)/Minerva McGonagall (HP)

They could have met when they were young, being roughly the same age, or later. Childhood friends!

Susan Pevensie becomes the first muggle to enter the Department of Mysteries, on account of her crossing worldstreams before, and that’s where she meets Minerva, who has to open the doors for her every day

Susan is the first muggle to ignore the anti-Muggle charms on Diagon Alley, and Minerva is sent to investigate

Phryne Fisher (MFMM)/Jane Marple (Marple - Christie)

teaming up to solve a murder!

teaming up to drive a poor inspector up the wall

teaming up during the war, codebreaking! and seeking comfort with each other

they went to girl’s school together, and now have to relive old glory days!

definitely here for Phryne and Jane being each other’s lesbian experience

John Constantine (Hellblazer)/Severus Snape (Harry Potter)

they’d be so glorious together! I’m here for all the fucked-up-ness this pairing can generate

hatesex? sex pollen? :D i hate repeating myself, but really, anything would be great; I’d love a AU in which John convinces Severus to not join the death eaters because they are all wankers anyway

or a AU in which Severus survives and joins John on madcap adventures trying to survive eldritchs horrors

or like, a one-night-stand that ends in Severus hearing the prophecy and defecting from Lord Voldemort

or like, anything, please, i really want this like burning, and i saw this in the tagset, and how is there only one story of this yet, really, anything, please

also, I’d love if they’d bonded up over their chavness, or something. really, anything would be great

Jane Marple (Marple - Christie)/Minerva McGonagall (HP)

I’d love Miss Marple snooping her way into the Scottish ruin, and finding out there’s a Wizarding World

maybe they are childhood friends?

maybe working at the cypher division is a code word for Department of Mysteries, during the war?

I’d love outsider POV for this; maybe Harry noticing that Minerva is living together with another woman, and it turns out to be Miss Marple? and they bond over having books written about them

Cher Horowitz (Clueless)/Elle Woods (Legally Blonde)

Do they meet in law school? Or before, or after?

I want them to be competent, and brilliant, and dazzle each other with their excellent taste in clothes. I want them to be besieged by terrible human beings, and persevere. I want them to cuddle on a sofa, and inspire so many girls to do great things. I want them to grow as human beings, and be kind and positive, and succeed. (And I want one of them to be President.)

Also excellent would be: Elle does criminal law, Cher is in charity work, and they need to solve this embezzlement case.

But I’m also here for the porn, because that would also be amazing. Or like, buying a house together. Getting married. Deciding to adopt a puppy together.

#exchange letter

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ofstormsandwolves · 7 years

Text

skyler10fic

replied to your

post

dewpointmonkey replied to your photo I mean, I...

here here! I know it’s probably more interesting to play “edgy” people and he probably does the kids stuff because he’s a dad, and steady jobs are great, and ofc, there’s always the risk of being typecast so they go to the extremes of playing wildly various roles…. but I want another romcom, dammit. lol

Yes! I still have yet to watch The Decoy Bride, and I'm figuring that's a nice role.

But I just miss being excited about his work- in the last two years, the only things he's done I've been excited about/ interested in were Broadchurch (which was a third series, as opposed to a new show), and Richard II (again, he was returning to the role). All his new roles seem to be either stuff for kids (which I totally get because he has young kids and tbh I like the fact he's doing a lot of kids' shows, even if I don't watch them!), or dark/ gritty/ edgy adult things that I for one don't want to watch. I'd just like him to return to happier roles that are more for everyone, you know? Like in What We Did On Our Holiday; yes, Doug cheated on Abby, but the film was a fun family film, Doug was a great dad, and it was generally upbeat. I would love for him to do more stuff like that.

Tbh I think I'm a bit biased though because I used to watch DT things with my mum (she died 6 years ago) when I was still only in my teens, and a lot of his recent stuff (Jessica Jones, Don Juan, CoD) wouldn't have been stuff I'd have been allowed near. Casanova and Secret Smile etc. was fine because in Casanova he's still a bit cheeky and a bit Doctor-ish, and in Secret Smile my mum knew I'd be more fascinated with the plot than anything else (I've always been into writing and stuff so that plot is so amazing to me, how they do the framing of the 'murder' and stuff) plus she'd seen it before and knew that Brendan wasn't a character that would scare me. I wouldn't like him (and really, you're not meant to), but I feel like Kilgrave is more terrifying because he physically controls people. Brendan emotionally manipulated people, but as a viewer you were aware of it. As for CoD, I was never allowed any sort of shooting games. I could play games that had shooting (like the Lego Star Wars/ Indiana Jones films etc.), but games where killing is the sole purpose wasn't something my mum was keen on.

And so recent projects of his have probably been great for him (yay!) but I don't think I'm the only fan who's had to skip watching him in certain things/ haven't even been interested in watching things even with him in a main role because it's a role that's kinda 'exclusive' in who would actually enjoy the project. I want him to play another Doug, or another Dave Tiler, or another 10th Doctor.

But hopefully this Takin’ Over the Asylum sequel goes through and we get adult!DJ!Campbell Bain!

I WANT CAMPBELL BACK.

#skyler10fic #reply

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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years

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Title: Kismet {1}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Plot, Slow Burn, Mild Cursing

Words: 3.9

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

Note: Okay, y’all, this has been in my Word file for about a year and a half now, and I have no idea why I never posted it, but I’ve been inspired. It is mostly finished, but I will be tweaking it a little with each post. I hope you enjoy this. As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘 As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

**Very Interactive**

“Everyone, welcome, Aliya Taylor!”

The clapping and cheers were deafening as you walked down the long corridor to walk through the set doors. Once in full view of the studio audience, they stood and cheered even louder. You took a few moments to wave at them before walking down the path that led to the talk show host. Once there, you hugged Wendy and prepared for the antics.

“They love you.”

“It appears that way. Thank you so much for having me.”

“Girl, everyone wants a piece of you. why is that?”

You shrugged and scoffed. “Hell if I know.” The audience erupted with laughter. They thought you were kidding. You weren’t.

“Are you being serious?”

“Absolutely. I have no idea why. I am just this normal girl. At home, I’m Liya, the baby, the one who wears sweats and high buns. I don’t get it.”

“Oh, so this that we see now is not how you are when the cameras turn off?”

Again you scoffed. “Absolutely not. Most days, unless I’m working, I don’t wear makeup and heels I try to stay away from,” you explained.

“Wow. I mean, I’ve seen plenty of paparazzi pictures of you, and you always look so put together,” Wendy complimented.

“They must photoshop,” you joked to the audience's amusement.

For the next several minutes, she asked you questions about your latest projects and what you had planned for the next few months. After pointing out you were seen as a fashion icon, she began inquiring about your fashion inspirations. That conversation almost went on for the rest of the segment, but like the pro she was Wendy roped it back in to the hard-hitting stuff.

“So, I have to bring this up,” she began giving the audience a look that had you giggling. “For the last few months, we’ve been hearing from a particular Hemsworth who has been preaching from every ledge how you are the love of his life. Anything to say about that?”

You were prepared for this, it was expected. It was Wendy Williams, after all. Shrugging, you have a clueless look. “Nothing to say. This is actually the first I’m hearing about that,” you lied.

Wendy didn’t buy it, and the look on her face said it. Holding your ground and tapping into that acting skill, you kept a straight face and let the stare down run its course.

“Wow, you have an unwavering poker face.” The audience laughed around you, but you still kept a straight face.

“I don’t know what to tell ya’, Wendy,” you responded with a shrug for emphasis.

“All right. So, are you single?”

“I’m single, not looking and very happy,” you announced. The cheers around you were unexpected, but you liked that they were on board with it.

“Any particular reason why?”

Sighing, you sat back in your seat. “Relationships are hard. They take a lot of work, and I require too much to be in a relationship.”

Wendy cackled, which sent you into a tiff of giggles. When the two of you settled down, she continued.

“What does that mean?”

“Not much really just relationships are distractions, huge, huge distractions, and I would just rather enjoy my time, my life and work which includes helping people, changing lives, making lives better and focus on me. Relationships are just not for me, so I don’t want em,” you declared.

Wendy looked shocked and speechless, but she began nodding. “I understand. After my highly publicized divorce, I am also in the mind frame of nothing serious. I’ll have my fun, but a serious relationship is a turn off for me.”

You raised your hands in the air to praise her statement. “So you’ve been traveling a lot, right? We see pictures of you with your two best friends Amaya and Alicia.”

Your smile was wide then. “Yes, yes. We’ve been traveling and enjoying life. I’ve worked so hard for so long, and rarely do I take a vacation, so I took a little time,” you explained.

“That’s good. What do you think about the polls fans have created about who they want to see you with?”

That was news to you. “What?”

“Yeah. There are so many polls that are fan-made asking who people want to see you date,” Wendy explained.

“Who are the contenders?”

“Zac Efron, Robert Pattison, Theo James, Michael B Jordan, the names are endless,” Wendy listed off. You could have laughed, but you kept it in and just decided to nod.

“Any preference?”

“Who am I to have a say?” The laugher erupted around you again.

Thankfully the conversation steered back to your work, and that was where it remained for the next five or so minutes until the end of the interview. After signing a few autographs and taking a few fan pictures, you made your exit and toward your next engagement. It was going to be another long day. This was the eighth straight day that began at four in the morning only to have your head hitting your pillow well after two in the morning.

After three more interviews and two meetings, you made it home at the time you expected. Sleep was not in the cards for you, especially since it had been years since you’d had a good night’s sleep without sleeping pills. Insomnia is what the doctors diagnosed you with. While everyone in LA slept or got six to eight hours of sleep, you rarely got four. It was a condition you’d managed to find a way to live with after all these years and resigned yourself to never being normal in that department. You didn’t dwell on it because that meant opening back up the box you’d neatly put away out of sight that was wrapped in pretty bows as tight as possible. You’d worked hard to keep your Pandora’s box bound tight, and it was an endless daily struggle to keep it that way.

-Two Weeks Later-

“I’m not used to be early,” you whispered to your assistant, who nodded. She knew it was true.

“What time is this supposed to be?”

“Two,” Pamela responded. Your golden Cartier watch said it was four till. Just as you were going to speak, the doors opened up and in walked three men, one of which was your manager Rob.

“Aliya, so glad you could make it.”

You shook their hands and exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes before getting down to the nitty-gritty. They spoke about a movie project that was planned for filming in the fall that they believed you were perfect for the lead role. As they described the plot and the intentions of the filming, you nodded along and took a few mental notes. As they spoke, several boxes on your list were checked off. You hated roles where black women were typecast, hated roles that degraded black women, and hated those cliché movies that were so predictable one usually regretted seeing them. These days you liked more adventurous roles, even roles that had you getting into the action genre. Why should men have all the fun of being action stars?

After a chat about the film, they gave you a rough draft of the script which you read through on the spot. It read like a classic action romance that had the lead female tackling female stereotypes of being the damsel in distress then turning around to being able to hold her own. You were intrigued and told them such. After asking your questions, the conversation turned to salary. You were prepared for them to lowball you because you were a woman and a black one at that. When they came in with five million, you didn’t bother speaking. Rob knew that you wouldn’t take it. You knew for a fact that other actresses would have been offered more. Their second offer of ten million sounded a lot more reasonable, and that was the contract you signed on for.

Three hours from the start of your meeting, it ended. As Rob finished up the details with the director and producer of the film, you made your way to the elevators with Pamela beside you. As you walked, your face was buried in your phone checking email after email and sending off message after message.

“The creative team is wondering if you’re still okay for the photos for the next publication,” Pamela inquired.

“Uh---was that the set that was done at the Botanical Gardens?”

“Yes.”

You stopped for a moment and thought about what she was asking while never taking your nose out of your phone. After a few moments, you nodded. “Yeah, tell them to send me the complete issue, and then I’ll get back to them in a few days,” you instructed.

You heard the “ding” of the elevator and waited the amount of time you expected it would take for the doors to open, then you stepped forward. Slamming into a hard wall, you began to fall backward with a yelp. “Oh my god!”

You prepared yourself to make impact with the floor, but that impact never came. Instead, you felt strong, muscular arms wrap around you. Those arms held you close, and you felt like nothing in the world would dare hurt you while there. When you looked, you were held captivated by the most intense pair of blue eyes you’d ever seen. They were eyes you’d seen in passing before, but eyes you must have overlooked until now. Henry Cavill.

The man was gorgeous. You’d always thought he was attractive the few times you’d see him in magazines or even watched his movies. It was a fact that you didn’t dare dispute. Why would you? With him, this close you couldn’t believe just how gorgeous he was. One man definitely had no business being this beautiful, you thought to yourself. You couldn’t believe his attractiveness. You should have been immune to it being an actress who’d dealt with some of the industry’s finest but here and now you felt like a fish out of water. You’d never had this strong of a reaction to a man before.

“Are you all right?”

You saw his mouth moving, but you couldn’t hear a word he said. His arms around your waist tightened. You now had a perfect view of his completely symmetrical face that had the most chiseled jaw you’d ever seen. His skin was flawless, and the stray curl on his forehead was calling your name, begging you to reach out and just touch it.

“Hello? Can you hear me?” His voice finally broke through the hormone-induced haze in your head.

“Oh my god. Yes. I’m okay.”

Henry’s eyebrows were etched together, giving you an inquisitive look.

“Are you sure?”

“No.” You sounded as if you were faint, and honestly, you kind of felt like it too.

“Let’s stand you up. Here we go.”

Slowly Henry set you up onto your feet before he let you go. Once he did, you wobbled, which had him reaching his arms out to you again to steady you. “I’ve got you.” His British accent was heaven. It was enough to have you staring at his mouth every time he spoke.

“Are you okay?”

Realizing how you were behaving, you remembered just who the hell you were and cleared your throat while straightening your back.

“Yes, I’m okay. I’m—I’m sorry,” you began.

“No, it was probably my fault. I was so wrapped up in my phone.”

“Me too,” you blurted out. The two of you smiled together, and it was right there you felt your heart skip a beat. Again, you cleared your throat and looked away from his hypnotizing eyes. “Uh, I’m sorry again. However, I am—uh—late for another meeting,” you finished.

“Absolutely.” Henry stepped to the side, giving you access to the elevator. After bending to retrieve your phone that had made its way into the elevator, you leaned onto the wall of the car, waiting for Pamela to file in. As she did, your eyes met Henry’s again, and that was where they stayed. It wasn’t until the doors closed, and you were somewhat alone, did your body begin to relax. Slouching back, you pressed your palm to your belly, hoping to calm the butterflies you felt fluttering away.

“Holy shit,” you whispered out loud while fanning yourself.

The remainder of the day, you were not your usual self. Normally you were a force to be reckoned with and able to charm any exec or paparazzi. That was not the case after you left the building. You were dazed and flustered. You even had a hard time following the meetings that followed. Your head just simply was not in the game, and that was a first for you. Your father had taught you long ago that keeping your head in the game was the best way to achieve all your goals. He taught you everything he knew, and your mother taught you then some.

You knew just who he was. Henry Cavill. You’d seen all the movies he’d been in regarding Superman because he was your favorite superhero. You’d seen his Mission Impossible movie and even his Man from U.N.C.L.E movie. He was all the buzz now because of his massive casting as Geralt of Rivia in The Witcher. Everyone had his name in their mouth.

At the most inopportune time, you found yourself thinking back to his face, his eyes, or his mouth and reminiscing about the feel of his arms around your waist. It was embarrassing. You felt like an amateur. You didn’t get starstruck. It wasn’t a thing for you because you’d been around celebrities since very early in your career. This was a first, and it was quickly getting old. Thanks to how long the day ran, you only had time to run home to quickly change your clothes in order to make your flight out of LA that night.

Once the plane took off, you were reclined back in one of the luxurious seats with a glass of fruit-infused Perrier water and a bowl of kettle corn. It was then you were finally able to catch your breath and relax for the first time for the day. Moments of quiet and slow were far and in between for you. For the most part, it was done purposely so you didn’t have too much time to think. You’d quickly learned that an idle mind invited painful memories.

Grabbing your phone, you snuggled in the seat and opened it up, ready to either scroll through Instagram or work a little bit. It didn’t take you long from unlocking it to realize this was not your phone. Once you unlocked it, the wallpaper was of an adorable dog on one side and a picture of a large family on the other.

“What the hell?”

Sitting up, you tucked your feet under you and continued to scroll through the phone. Immediately you went to pictures. The first few were interesting shots of pieces of tech and then several pictures of the same adorable dog. The more you scrolled, the pictures got more and more interesting. When you came across a picture of Henry audibly gasped.

“Oh shit! Shit, shit!”

Slowly you put the phone on the table before you and looked around the cabin to see if anyone was watching you. You felt as if you were doing something wrong. Realizing no one was paying any attention to you, you drank down the water and raised your hand for the stewardess.

“Yes, Ms. Taylor.”

“Have we taken off?”

“Yes, we’ll be landing in London in six hours,” the stewardess informed. Clenching your jaw, you nodded.

“Okay, can I have a bottle of champagne, please.”

“Absolutely. Any particular brand?”

“Surprise me.” She nodded and walked away. In her absence, your eyes stared at the phone on the table and contemplated your options.

A few moments later, the stewardess returned with the bottle and a filled glass.

“Thank you.” you dumped the fruit from the bottom of one glass into the champagne flute and gulped down half of the glass. Your eyes again landed on the phone.

“Don’t do it Aliya, don’t do it.”

Flexing your fingers, you tried to suppress the urge to go against your better judgment.

“It would be a major invasion of privacy, Aliya. Don’t,” you reiterated.

Before you even finished the sentence, your hand was reaching for the device.

“Oh, screw it.” Grabbing the phone, you unlocked it again, and while thanking the tech gods, there was no passcode on it. “Technically, I don’t know whose phone it is. I do have to get some information. Right?”

You nodded your head, accepting you were having a full-on conversation with yourself. You continued to scroll through his pictures. The majority of them are of him smiling, showcasing those perfect teeth and his perfect face. Some were him in makeup chairs, others in a house with perfect lighting, others were him at random times. After a few swipes of your finger, you’d entered pictures that looked to be of family. You could see the resemblance between him and the men and a little bit around the eyes of an older blonde woman.

Noting that they all looked happy and loving, you continued looking through more. Your finger stopped moving when you came upon a brunette with dark eyes and blonde with blue eyes. Both women looked relatively young but somewhat attractive in a simple way. You began to wonder who they were. After scrolling a little more, you got your answer seeing a few pictures of him kissing both women. That had you stumped and wondering who the women were and if Henry Cavill was a good-looking playboy.

You didn’t know how long you scrolled, but when you ventured into the shirtless ones, you scrolled a lot slower. The man was built like Greek God by Hollywood standards. He had like zero percent body fat and one hundred percent muscle definition. You didn’t even realize you were practically drooling until you got to a picture of him suggestively nude. He laid in a bed with a blanket aimlessly thrown across his groin, which left little to the imagination.

“Lord have mercy up in haven for all things that are holy.”

Pressing his phone to your chest, you closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths then continued. You quickly transitioned to his messages. Most were work-related. Six names down, you saw a woman’s name—Francesca. Not too far below hers was another—Abby. Though your curiosity was at an all-time high, you ignored it and exited his messages. For the next fifteen minutes, you scrolled through the remainder of his pictures until you dropped it back into your purse to alleviate any more temptation to ogle his body. That was when you used the champagne to distract yourself, but it was no use. All you could think about was Henry’s literal ten pack.

~~~~~~~~~~

-Henry-

“Bollocks!”

The flowery wallpaper that stared back at him was the only thing he needed to see to know this was not his phone. It was then he realized his phone must have gotten mixed up with yours due to the mishap in front of the elevator. Leaning back in his chair, he groaned and stared at the ceiling. The thought entered his mind to look at it, especially since there was no passcode on it.

“You can’t. That’s a massive invasion of privacy. She’s a lady,” he drilled to himself.

Raising to his feet, he paced the floor of his hotel room. Most days, he felt like he lived in hotel rooms rather than his flat in London. He groaned, feeling the ache to his muscles, he needed a vacation. Working every day, nonstop was staring to wear its toll on his body. He got lost in thoughts on a possible vacation for a few minutes before the light of your phone on the table brought his attention back. His struggle was something real. On the one hand, he wanted to look so badly, but on the other, he wanted to respect your privacy.

The battle waged on for an hour until he gave in to curiosity and delved into your phone. The first place he went was to your pictures. As soon as he scrolled, he was blown away. You were gorgeous. The first few rows of pictures had you all dolled up in makeup, lashes, lipstick, and all. He spent a lot longer examining those pictures than he should have. When he got to the ones of you fresh-faced, he found himself drooling. While you were gorgeous with makeup, you were breathtaking without. He marveled in the way your skin looked to be glowing, and the way your lips looked so supple—kissable. It took everything in him to move on.

There were pictures of you with who he assumed were your friends, in these pictures you looked happy and it wasn’t long before he found a favorite one of you.

“Christ, she’s too beautiful.”

As he scrolled, he stopped in his tracks at one of you in a bikini, and his jaw dropped. Every inch of you was perfect. You had not one flaw. When you bumped into to him earlier, he realized you were beautiful and that there was a draw between you that triggered a reaction for him, one that he hadn’t fully noticed until the elevator doors closed. Sitting here now, he was fully aware of his reaction to you. Quickly he scrolled on then dropped the phone when he came across a shot of you in heels with your back turned to the camera in your underwear alone. He found himself biting his bottom lip as his imagination took over. That was when he got out of your pictures.

When he got into your messages, he began admonishing himself for what he was doing, but he couldn’t stop. He wanted to know more about you—everything really. He scrolled through those messages that looked like work until he came upon two names, Liam, and Jesse. Though he was curious, he still decided against reading them. Instead, he slide the phone to the farthest corner from him and contemplated all he’d seen and the best approach to this situation. He had to get his phone back and give you yours, but he also was filled with an overwhelming desire to know you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lee’s Note: What do you guys thing? Continue?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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