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avacoleman · 4 months

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when the lights go out || a firstprince fic

summary: Henry Fox’s career is in crisis and his dating life isn’t faring much better either. After a chance encounter with a charming man becomes memorable for all the wrong reasons, Henry throws himself into his next assignment: writing the memoir of a beloved C-list actor. Henry, however, knows Alex best for the role he played as his random, awkward one-night stand. Henry enters their professional partnership keen on keeping their relationship just that. But after Henry confesses that their hookup was less than spectacular, Alex concots an arrangement that Henry is unable to resist. In addition to ghostwriting Alex’s life story, Henry will teach him a thing or two about satisfying a man. As they spend months out on the road together, they must decide if the connection between them is yet another story worth telling.

chapter 2/8 || rated e || read on ao3 *updates every tues. and fri. *

Portland, OR Rose City Comic Con Day 1 [Unknown number] hey, i hope you’ve made it safely [Unknown number] in case it wasn’t clear, this is alex. i’ll catch you later. maybe we can grab a bite or something after today’s panel? Henry saves Alex’s number and confirms that yes, he’s arrived in one piece and would be happy to join Alex after the event. All of this is still wrapped in impossibility for Henry. Even though he’d been fully briefed on the tour and signed his contract, the fact that he’s now embarking on a multi-city tour with Alex hasn’t sunk in yet. The six and a half hour long flight didn’t do much to lessen the surrealness and now that he’s here at the venue, Henry doesn’t see an end in sight to the feeling. The convention center is, in a word, daunting. For as much as Henry loves Lord of the Rings and Star Wars, he can’t say his appreciation for the franchises has ever been this devout or even close to it. All around him people are decked out in elaborate, truly remarkable costumes. Some are easy to ID like Doctor Who and Marvel characters. But others are so obscure that Henry can’t even hazard a guess. It’s overwhelming but also kind of intriguing too, seeing people be wholly themselves and embrace the things they love. He forces himself to focus up as he grabs a directory map of the convention’s floor plan for reference before going up to one of the booths for his credentials. With his badge secured, he looks at the map again and makes his way over to where Alex’s panel is being held in one of the larger rooms. It takes him some time to find it; the convention center is practically a maze. But he spots a blowup outside the door clearly marking the panel, Supernatural in the Mainstream. By the time he gets inside, the room is packed and the excited chatter is practically tangible.

Henry spots a few Crescent Valley fans in t-shirts referencing the show. Admittedly Henry still hasn’t started the series, but before he hopped his flight out of JFK, Pez spent the vast majority of their last few days together giving Henry a pretty substantial rundown of the essentials, including some cast trivia. Most notable from the recap was learning that Alex had dated one of his co-stars, Nora Holleran, during season two. Henry decided it was none of his business– only after doing a Google search on her.

Even with the knowledge that the show resonated with so many people while it aired, it’s strange to reconcile it with the fact that the guy he met on a whim at a bar is part of such a cultural force.

After a few moments, a woman takes to the stage, introducing herself as the moderator. The audience is ravenous as she introduces the panelists and Henry almost goes deaf from the screams Alex earns when his name is called.

Henry studies Alex as he crosses the stage, waving to fans and putting a hand to his heart in appreciation for the warm reception. The large monitors on either side of the stage zoom in on his face and the sincere gratitude Alex feels is plain as day in his eyes.

“Alright, let’s get started, shall we?” the moderator says to kick things off.

Alex in his element during the panel, magnetic really. Even though he’s one of four panelists, it’s so clear to see how he effortlessly draws people in.

Henry takes out his notebook, hoping to glean something in any of Alex’s responses to the questions directed at him that can be a kernel of an idea they can turn into the core of this book.

He can’t shake Alex’s words during their lunch with Zahra, the way it seemed that Alex sincerely wanted his book to be about something real.

Vanity cash grab celeb autobiographies were a dime a dozen. Henry figured for people who lived so heavily in the spotlight, it probably felt like the natural progression of things. But with Alex and his team being so adamant in their search, scouring through profiles in hopes of finding the right person to pen Alex’s story, he had to believe this book would actually stand for something other than more dollars in their pockets.

There isn’t much that Henry is able to take away for research other than noting the way people gravitate towards Alex. More than once, he’d actually seen people in the audience quite literally shift to the edge of their seats as he spoke.

When the panel is over, Henry fights against the current of attendees to make his way backstage. He presents his badge to the man at the entrance who gives it a once-over before deeming it to be authentic and ushering Henry through the curtain.

Alex is easy to spot, holding court just as he’d done on stage before, this time with a small audience of just the moderator and his fellow panelists. He’s got a water bottle in his hands, preparing to take a sip when he catches sight of Henry instantly and politely excuses himself from the group.

“You survived day one. How’d you like it?” he asks.

“Your world is very different from mine, but it’s pretty cool,” Henry admits.

“Good, I'm glad to hear it.”

There’s a lull as Alex looks him over and Henry suddenly feels oddly self-conscious and small. Seeing this side of Alex, the sheer star power, is a bit overwhelming.

“You're done for the day, right? I took another look at the itinerary this morning. You’ve got the signing tomorrow, yes?”

Alex nods. “Yeah, I’m all yours starting now.” The man’s face instantly flushes. “You know what I mean.”

Henry offers up a smile that feels more like a white flag.

“We should head out,” Alex says.

He moves away and heads back to the others in the room, making his parting remarks before touching Henry’s elbow and guiding him to a set of double doors he hadn’t initially noticed when he entered. Henry is treated to a glimpse of the convention center’s underbelly, the private exit that leads them to a secluded area outside on the street level.

Henry is sure it’s probably all in his mind, but now that it’s back to just him and Alex, away from the adoring fans and bright lights of a main stage, the man standing before him now is someone else entirely again. Henry wonders if he’ll ever be able to wrap his head around the two versions of Alex that exist in this world.

“There’s a park not too far from here. Do you want to walk around for a bit?” Alex asks.

It’s a random ask but Henry is glad for it. He’s not sure what to do with himself as they try and find their rhythm around each other.

They make it to the park a few minutes later and walk alongside the edge of a small pond.

Henry turns to attempt starting a conversation and it seems as if Alex had the same thought too; they bump arms immediately and both rush to apologize.

Henry sighs and stops walking.

“I have to ask. Are you still sure about this?”

Alex’s eyebrows furrow.

“What do you mean? This walk?”

Henry crosses his arms and gives him a dry look.

“Ah. You being on this project then,” Alex says.

Henry nods.

Alex looks at him. “Of course I am. I won’t lie, it is a bit of a mindfuck when I stop and really consider it. I’m still trying to figure out how to be around you. But my opinion on your work? My decision to collaborate with you? That hasn’t changed. Not one bit. So, yeah, we had a good night. Great conversation and even better sex,” he muses. “But I can forget it if you can.”

Henry snorts out a laugh in surprise that he quickly tries in vain to cover up as a sneeze. Alex, rightfully, doesn’t buy it though Henry wishes desperately that he would. He hates the way Alex’s face falls.

“Are you…do you mean you didn’t enjoy it? That I wasn’t…,” Alex trails off.

Henry’s basic functions betray him and his mouth merely opens and closes like a landlocked fish struggling for breath.

In the end, no response is an answer within itself and Henry watches the varying degrees of what can only be described as horror play out across Alex’s face.

Goodbye tour, goodbye contract, Henry thinks. All gone before it even truly got started.

For a man that writes for a living, Henry falls short on what to say. How could he possibly salvage this now?

“I…it…,” he flounders.

Bang up job, Henry, he internally chides.

“Oh, my god. Oh, my fucking god,” Alex whispers to himself. “Crap, that’s why you snuck out then, isn’t it?”

Henry winces. While that is an astute, wholly accurate description of what he did last week, hearing it so plainly — and from Alex’s lips no less— just makes it sound that much harsher.

“Maybe it was just an off night. It happens sometimes. But look, we don’t have to talk about it. Like you said, we can both forget it ever happened. Today can be our official day one.”

Alex shakes his head, refusing to let it go.

“No. What didn’t you like about it?”

“Alex, come on. Seriously. We don’t have to get into it.”

Alex takes a step closer.

“Please? I want to know what I did wrong.”

Henry frowns.

“That’s harsh; don’t frame it like that. Just think of it as…areas of improvement.”

Alex crosses his arms. “That isn’t much better, but I guess you’re right.” Alex pauses. “Okay then, what do I need to work on?”

Henry groans and looks up at the sky.

“I…how is this happening right now?” Henry mutters to himself, rubbing his forehead and turning his eyes to the water.

He gets a wild fantasy of jumping into the pond and hiding in its depths to avoid this conversation. Could he hold his breath long enough to wait Alex out? He’d be willing to test that hypothesis if it meant even five seconds away from this talk.

When he looks back at Alex, the man’s eyes are unwavering and Henry’s instantly transported to the night in question. To how wide eyed and earnest Alex had been after they had sex and he checked in. It makes something in his chest crack a little, enough to put a hole in the wall he hoped to build around the truth.

“Well, the handjob was a bit…rigid. And when you were working to open me up, that felt a touch awkward. And then when you were actually inside me, it was rushed and uh, a tad repetitive. You were enthusiastic, which was nice, but I couldn’t quite mirror that.”

He hopes his answer is diplomatic, but he knows there’s simply no easy way to say any of this.

Alex’s brows knit together deeply and it feels like a lifetime before he speaks again.

“So…sex. You’re telling me I’m just straight up bad at sex as a whole?”

Henry groans and slaps the palm of his hand against his forehead.

“Like I said, it could have been an off night. We were drinking, we were both overexcited. The room was cursed or perhaps I really was, remember? There’s a lot at play here.”

Alex is quiet again, too quiet for Henry’s likings. Henry awkwardly scratches the side of his nose and rocks slightly on the balls of his feet as Alex stares off at nothing before turning his gaze back on Henry.

“I’ll take this into consideration. Thank you, Henry. I appreciate your honesty.”

It’s clinical and closed off and Henry wishes he could take back the last few minutes. But the truth is out there, the ball squarely in Alex’s court and Henry can’t help the sinking feeling that he’s about to lose it all.

~*~*~

Rose City Con

Day 2

Much like yesterday, Alex continues to be incredible with fans. It’s only a signing today, but Alex’s energy is on one hundred for each and every person that comes his way. He poses for pictures and makes good conversation with fans. He asks them questions, learns a bit about each of them. It’s clear to see the knack he has for making everyone feel like they’re having a unique, truly personal interaction with him.

Several people come up to him already in tears and overwhelmed, but Alex doesn’t seem fazed by it at all. Henry is impressed with the way Alex puts them all at ease in no time, cracking jokes as he signs merch.

Henry has no clue how Alex manages to keep his enthusiasm going for hundreds of people. The fact that this is only the first city makes his head spin. He’s not even the one engaging with people and yet Henry feels exhausted merely watching Alex in action.

Henry barely managed to sleep last night. Each time he closed his eyes, he was brought right back to the water’s edge with Alex, replaying every painstaking moment of their conversation.

There was no time to talk about it this morning. The last thing Henry wanted to do was throw a wrench in Alex’s day when he had this signing scheduled.

Looking at Alex now, it makes Henry commend actors for their ability to truly compartmentalize and put their focus where it needs to be.

Once the signing wraps and the final Crescent Valley fan is off with a bag full of newly inked merch, Henry sees the first crack in Alex’s mask. His shoulders sag a little and he rolls his neck from side to side before standing.

He hops down from the slightly raised platform he was seated on. Henry walks towards him without really thinking about it.

“Are you heading back to the hotel now?” Alex asks.

Henry cocks his head to the side, adjusting the strap of his bag.

“I was going to…unless, do you have something else you need me to shadow you on?”

Alex shakes his head.

“No. I was hoping we could talk.”

Henry looks around. There are still some stragglers from other signing lines though they’re out of earshot.

“We can go back together,” Alex says decidedly.

They take a car service back to their hotel and Henry is all too relieved once they’re outside again. The ride over was silent and heavy with the weight of whatever Alex wanted to say but couldn’t in the moment.

All that free time merely left Henry with a thirty minute window to dream up scenarios of what Alex wanted to discuss. Every single one of them ended in him being fired and pulled from the tour.

“Can we go to your room?” Alex asks.

Henry nods stiffly. He figures maybe it’s for the best. At least he’d be able to pack his things immediately after Alex chewed him out and sent him on his merry way back across the country to New York.

For now, three thousand miles don’t separate them, merely three feet as they head up the elevator.

A feeling of déjà vu sweeps through Henry, but this evening couldn’t be any more different than the night they met. Instead of crowding each other’s space and making out, they keep enough distance that their clothes don’t even come close enough to touching, never mind any other parts of them.

Henry lets them into his room and pockets his keycard as he steps inside. The door slamming shut behind Alex sounds ominous though Henry fully recognizes that’s probably his irrational brain conjuring the sense of foreboding.

“So…you wanted to talk,” he says, toeing off his shoes and setting them neatly along the wall. The sooner they got this over with, the better.

Alex nods, crossing his arms against his chest, his hands holding firm to his biceps. The positioning makes him look so small suddenly, vulnerable even. It’s such a sharp contrast to the energy Alex had with fans not too long ago.

The enigma of Alex Claremont-Diaz continued to baffle him.

“After we spoke yesterday, I took some time to think about everything. I decided to do some research,” Alex says. “I went back to past partners to see if they shared your point of view.”

This isn’t at all where Henry thought this conversation was going. All the same, he plays along, still bracing for the worst. This could all well be a roundabout way of him getting the axe.

“And what were the results of your findings?” he asks.

“They were inconclusive. They all said they never faked it with me which got me thinking again. There’s a factor to consider here that varies from the others.”

Henry's confusion must register on his face because Alex sighs and rubs his face.

“I’ve recently…uncovered something about myself that probably should have been super obvious to me. But hey, you know what they say about hindsight.”

Alex groans in frustration at himself.

“Can you, like, just face the wall or something? I’d really rather not have to look at you when I say what I’m about to.”

“Your ridiculousness truly knows no bounds, does it?” Henry huffs but Alex quickly levels him with a glare.

Henry holds his hands up in defense, knowing a lost cause when he sees one.

“Fine, fine,” he says, turning away.

He can see Alex in the reflection of the TV screen and a part of him feels guilty for not owning up to this fact when sees the tension in the man’s shoulders and watches as Alex shakes his hands as if warding something off.

“My past partners were all women. It’s come to my attention in recent weeks that I’m bi and the night we hooked up…that may or may not have been the first time I had sex with a guy. So maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t stellar at it for what I think is a pretty valid reason when you think about it.”

Henry turns back so suddenly the soles of his clothed feet scrape against the carpet. He’ll think of the rugburn later, but for now, there are bigger things to focus on.

“Alex,” he says, unsure of where to even go next. His mind is racing so quickly, it’s hard to make sense of anything right now, not with Alex’s confession laying bare before him.

“Your shoulders barely even fit through doorways so I don’t want your head getting big too,” Alex quips, “but…I wanted to be with you that night. It felt like nothing else really mattered to me except getting into bed with you because we really vibed and I wanted to see where it could go. And I know that sounds totally lame and cheesy and probably pathetic as hell or whatever, but it’s true.”

Alex rolls his eyes at himself, stuffing his hands in the back pockets of his jeans.

“This doesn’t have to be a big deal. Hell, it doesn’t even have to be a thing, period.”

“Alex,” Henry says again. This time, something in his voice must stand out because the other man finally stops talking and looks directly at him.

Henry holds his gaze for a moment, needing his words to ring clear.

“It should be a thing because it is in fact a big deal, contrary to what you might think of the matter. Coming into your sexuality, it can be a lot mentally and emotionally. Add in making physical strides…you took a major step that night. That sort of thing isn’t easy to do.”

Alex huffs out a terse laugh.

“It was a swing and a miss.”

“I’ll pretend that’s a cricket reference instead of the tragic baseball one I’m sure it was intended to be.”

Alex’s lips quirk into a reluctant smile just as Henry was hoping it would.

“The only cricket I’ll acknowledge is Jiminy,” he says.

Henry laughs. “I’ll allow that inane response. We’ve got more important things to discuss.”

Alex sighs and takes a seat at the edge of the bed, his head lobbing back as he looks up at the ceiling. All it does is expose his smooth neck and Henry looks away before the sight gets the better of him.

He follows Alex over and sits beside him, his hands resting on the comforter on either side of him. Alex doesn’t rush to speak which Henry grows a little concerned with. Alex is hardly ever quiet or still. Seeing him like this now, Henry can practically hear the whirlwind of rushing thoughts.

“I should hope that by now, you know you can be honest with me. That’s quite literally what I’m here for. Whatever’s on your chest, you can say and it’d be completely safe. Let your conscience be your guide and all that.”

“God, I hate you,” Alex says, but there’s no bite to his words, especially as he smiles softly and rests his head against Henry’s shoulder.

“Thanks for being so cool about this. Part of me is still not entirely convinced I won’t be struck dead from embarrassment later but, if I had to get news like this from anyone…I sure as shit am glad it was you.”

“You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about. This just explains a lot. I’m sure you’ll only get better from here on out, now that you know.”

Alex sits up and snorts a laugh.

“And how many guys will I have to fuck until I get it just right?”

“Is that a riddle? A rhetorical question? Some kind of demented R-rated Goldilocks reference?”

“I’m genuinely asking here,” Alex says sincerely, enough to get Henry to quiet down. “What if I never figure it out and I’m just this trash partner for dudes going forward? How many is standard for it to, you know, click?”

Henry smiles sympathetically. “I can’t answer that for you.” Alex frowns, but Henry continues. “It could be ten or it could be as little as one. It’s different for everybody. You just need to get more comfortable with it.”

Alex’s brows furrow, his lips pinching slightly before he looks away. It’s almost an identical look to his expression that night when he was taking his time in touching Henry for the first time.

“What are you thinking?” Henry asks now, unlike that night. They’re well past that stage of being tentative.

Alex opens and closes his mouth before shaking his head.

“Nothing. It’s nothing,” he says, getting up from the bed and running a hand through his curls.

Henry rises to his feet too as Alex turns back to him and speaks suddenly.

“I’m hungry. You hungry? What do we think the room service situation is like here, hmm? I’m guessing high volumes of quinoa and other rabbit foods. A damn shame. I weep in Texas barbecue. Fuck, what I wouldn’t give for some good barbacoa right now,” he prattles on as he tries to sidestep Henry.

Henry gently catches hold of his arm and stops him in his tracks. Alex sighs defeatedly and looks up at him.

“Maybe we’ll get to a point where I’ll be able to read your mind, but until then, I’d really like to know what you’re thinking,” Henry says. “Please.”

Alex sighs again. “Well, when you ask so nicely.”

Henry lets go of him then and holds his gaze. The stalemate ends as Alex collects his thoughts and courage.

“I was thinking, maybe you’re onto something with that whole ‘one person’ thing. Like…I don’t know, maybe that one person could be you? You could, maybe, teach me. Show me the ropes. Or at the very least, explain how I could be better. You know, give me pointers and stuff…if you’d even go for that.”

Henry’s jaw drops slightly, his blood rushing and pounding in his ears. For all his ribbing and joking before, Henry can tell Alex is completely serious now.

“You know, I can’t read your mind either, right? You’re gonna have to say something. Ideally right this second because if I thought I was out on a limb before, I’m freefalling right now and spiraling is not cool or sexy,” Alex says.

Henry blinks twice, letting Alex’s words fully sink in.

“Wait…you’d want to…with me again?”

Alex rolls his eyes and throws his hands up.

“I feel like you deserve a redo. And besides, do you see any other hot British men around here who know my secret shame?”

Henry startles out a laugh.

“You shouldn’t be ashamed and we British men do not travel in packs.”

“Tell that to the Redcoats. British men traveling in packs,” Alex repeats and shudders. “No good ever came of that. Just open any history book at random.”

“My god, do you ever stop talking?”

“Usually when my mouth is occupied in other ways.”

Henry quirks a brow.

“Down, boy. Get your mind out of the gutter. I was absolutely talking about when I’m drinking coffee or eating food or—“

Henry puts his hands on either side of Alex’s face.

“For the love of God, can you be quiet for two seconds so that I may think?”

Alex mirrors his raised brow.

“Holy shit, you’re actually gonna consider this?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” Henry shakes his head and lowers his hands. “I mean, yes, there are a hundred and one reasons why we shouldn’t. Chief among them being that we’re here for business not pleasure.”

“But seeing as though we kinda shot that to hell without meaning to…,” Alex supplies. “I freaking love loopholes. I really do.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

Henry looks up at the ceiling briefly before shaking his head.

“If we do this, we’re going to have to be very, very careful. I don’t want to jeopardize our working relationship. This book has to always come first.”

“Of course.”

Henry sits once more on the bed, Alex stepping close to him with his arms crossed against his chest.

“If this were to happen, we’d need to establish some ground rules. No staying overnight in each other’s rooms. If, for any reason, one of us wants to call it off—,”

“No questions asked. No awkwardness,” Alex says. “Simply not wanting to anymore would be reason enough.”

Henry nods. “Yeah, exactly.” He purses his lips. “And it won’t be a daily thing either.”

Alex scoffs and puts his hands on his hips.

“Jesus, do you think I’m insatiable? You’re hot, but I promise you, I can in fact exercise some self-control.”

“In the short time that I’ve known you, I must admit that’s coming as quite a revelation, but I suppose I’ll have to take your word for it.”

Alex rolls his eyes and smiles softly, his face a bit thoughtful. Henry can’t look away as Alex speaks, especially as he takes note of Alex’s change in tone, the way he grows more serious and contemplative.

“I’m gonna make it up to you. That night.”

“You don’t owe me anything. Besides, this isn’t even about me. I’ll just be here to help you figure out what your future partners might like.”

“And the best way for me to start with that is by learning what you like. When the time comes, yeah, I’ll figure out how to make another guy come undone. But in the meantime? These next few weeks? It’s just me and you. I want to make you feel all the things you should have when we were together. Every sigh, every moan, every desperate breath. I’ll earn it for real this time.”

Henry’s throat feels a bit dry at the thought, at the determination in Alex’s eyes.

“Is that a promise then? A challenge perhaps?” he manages to say, trying to keep his composure even as he feels himself getting aroused.

Alex doesn’t miss a beat as he says, “Sweetheart, that’s a goddamn guarantee.”

~*~*~

Phoenix, AZ Canyon Con

One of the best parts about agreeing to be the ghostwriter for this project is undoubtedly the ability for Henry to visit cities he’s never been to.

The flight to Arizona with Alex was enjoyable and this time around, they’re set up in an AirBnB for an entire week.

They’ve settled into their temporary new digs pretty nicely and Henry is looking forward to making further progress with Alex and this book.

Neither of them has actually brought up the other day and the deal they’ve struck with each other. Henry hasn’t been sure how to breach the topic, but now that they’re set to stay inside this rental for the week, it feels like it’ll take true Herculean effort to ignore the elephant in the room for much longer.

He reasons that since it was Alex’s idea, he’ll leave it to him to mention when he’s ready. For now, they have been able to tiptoe around it, making conversation about virtually anything else.

Henry takes up residence on the couch with his laptop, headphones on as he queues up Crescent Valley. He’s begun watching the series as part of his research. He’s halfway through season one and he still can’t tell if he likes the show or not. Despite that indecision, he can sincerely say Alex is a pretty great actor.

The show itself is campy at best, but there’s something very earnest in Alex’s portrayal of a newly turned vampire attempting to find balance in the two worlds he’s a part of.

Episode nine begins and for better or worse, Henry finds himself getting sucked into it. He rues the day already when he’ll have to confess to Pez that he should have watched along with him back when they were roommates in university. He’ll never hear the end of it. He’d better start preparing now for the resounding chorus of “I told you so”.

Henry’s so wrapped up in the show that he jumps a little when he sees a figure in the doorway of the living room. Alex is now both on his screen and here in the flesh.

Henry awkwardly makes to get up, hitting pause and taking off his headphones.

“Did you want to watch television in here? I can go.”

Alex’s brows furrow a little.

“Oh, no. I just wanted to hang with you. I know we haven’t really had much time to sit down about the memoir yet, so maybe we could now? But if you’re busy though, we can do it later.”

Henry shakes his head and closes out of Crescent Valley. He switches over to the Google Doc he created, storing away all the notes he’s been taking from various interviews he’s watched and read of Alex.

“Now would be great. It’s been nice seeing you out there with fans, but what I’m still trying to understand is the reason why you want a book at this time. What’s the angle or message you want readers to connect with?”

Alex takes a seat on the single seater across from Henry.

“I want to talk about my sexuality, my ADHD, being a tragic child of divorce, the highs and lows of being in this career. But, mostly the first part.”

Alex takes a deep breath and lets it out.

“I want to come out and maybe in doing so, it’ll help someone else to make sense of the things they might’ve been feeling for years, but never knew how to dissect or put a name to.”

Henry thinks back to their initial business meeting. Alex had made it clear that despite their past, Henry still remained his top pick to ghostwrite. Alex had also said there were different reasons why he hid the truth of who he was. Now it all slid into place since Alex’s admission the other day.

“Alex, that’s incredible. This is huge.”

Alex smiles nervously.

“I can’t believe I’m doing it, but I feel good about my decision. My friends and family know. I feel good about myself, even though I’m still figuring this out.”

“You’re taking a big step and on the world stage no less. That’s pretty remarkable. I’m proud of you. I’d be honored to help tell your story.”

He takes his phone out of his pocket.

“Do you mind if I record? It helps me to get details correct and it’s also useful in getting your cadence right when it comes time to start writing.”

“Not at all. Go for it,” Alex says.

Henry nods and opens his voice memo, hitting record. He asks questions about Alex’s upbringing, the sort of little things a quick Wiki search can’t tell a person.

True to the terms of the contract and Zahra’s assurance, Alex makes himself, for a lack of a better term, an open book. He gets candid about how his parents’ divorce coupled with his relative celeb status has made it difficult for him to put much stock into the concept of dating, especially with people outside the industry.

This fact in particular strikes Henry though he decides not to examine that too closely.

After about an hour and half, Henry decides they’ve covered enough ground to get him started.

“This was great. Thank you,” he says, looking over the new notes he’s taken and saving the recording.

“Yeah, of course.” Alex still looks contemplative and for a moment, Henry merely chalks it up as a side effect of their in-depth conversation until he stands and Alex speaks up.

“Um, could we talk about the other thing too?”

Henry doesn’t need clarification. He tucks his laptop under his arm and sits back down.

“Of course we can.”

Alex lets out a relieved breath.

“I couldn’t sleep last night and I kept thinking about the problem areas you mentioned. One thing you’ll learn about me is that I like making lists and stuff to keep me on track. There’s a neurosy or two in there, but let’s not look at it too hard right now. We can get into that later for the book,” Alex says.

“Point is, I ended up making a sort of…outline for us and these sessions so they have some structure to them. You can talk things out first and then maybe we could have a practical portion. I can link you to the live doc.”

Henry blinks a few times.

“That’s comprehensive. You've made a sex syllabus.”

Alex’s cheeks flush slightly.

“It’s too much, isn’t it?”

“Alex, I’m British. I thrive off structure and formality. I’d quite like to see this outline so yes, please, link me.”

He stands up again.

“Maybe you could come by my room in about an hour?” Henry suggests. “The deal was that the book comes first. I’d say we made sufficient progress today in that area,” Henry says, tapping his laptop.

Alex blinks twice. “Sounds good.”

His tone is almost detached and before Henry can ask if he’s alright, Alex is already on his feet with his phone in hand.

Henry retreats to his room and sets his computer down on the nightstand. He hears the chime of his inbox and he opens it to find an email from Alex, subject line “aforementioned sex syllabus 🍆💦”.

Henry laughs and opens it.

The first lesson, Back to Basics, has subsections for kissing and touching.

Henry closes out of the doc as his eyes look at later topics like fingering and oral. He begins to pace, his neck feeling hot at the road ahead.

In all fairness, at least, this first lesson won’t be difficult at all. Kissing is as harmless as it comes and Henry can attest to the fact that this wasn’t actually an area in which Alex needed improvement.

All the same, Henry knows there’s merit in easing them into this new working relationship instead of jumping into the deep end on day one.

An hour goes by much faster than Henry could have anticipated and suddenly Alex is knocking at his door.

Henry squares his shoulders and crosses the room to let him in. He takes some reassurance in the fact that Alex looks as uncertain as he feels.

“Hey,” Alex says as he comes in, taking a look around himself before landing back on Henry. Even though these sessions were Alex’s idea, Henry gets the feeling he’ll have to be the one to get the ball rolling tonight.

“I will preface this lesson by saying you don’t need any pointers in this department.”

Alex smiles to himself and Henry has to admit, it’s kind of adorable seeing that reaction.

“Regardless, I think your guideline was pretty smart in starting out slowly with these sessions. We can build up from there.”

Alex nods. “Cool, I’m glad you agree.”

Henry stuffs his hands in his pockets. “And you’re sure you want to do this, right? I won’t be offended or anything if you’ve had a change of heart in the past hour.”

Alex shakes his head. “No, I’m still in. I guess I’m just nervous about screwing things up a second time. I don’t know if I could readily bounce back from that level of humiliation.”

Henry steps closer to him, removing his hands from his pockets and instead encircling Alex’s waist.

Alex’s eyes widen but he doesn’t shrink away or look uncomfortable. If anything, he looks curious. Expectant even.

“I think the best way for us to get past the awkwardness might be to simply embrace it,” Henry says.

Alex peers up at him, his eyes drifting to Henry’s lips and back just as he’d done that night right before they kissed for the first time.

This time around, it’s Alex who makes the first move and tugs Henry closer. Henry can’t hide the way this affects him. His breath catches as Alex leans in and presses his lips to Henry’s.

It’s reflexive to kiss him back at once. Alex had left his brain in an absolute fog that night in New York as they kissed on the street and weeks later, Alex hasn’t lost his spark.

This kiss doesn’t mean anything. It won’t lead to anything and Henry thinks that’s what allows him to rid himself of any self-consciousness or second thoughts.

Alex’s kiss grows hungry and quickens and for the sake of Henry’s quickly beating heart, he needs them to take it down one notch or two.

“A bit slower,” Henry says softly against his lips. “I don’t want to rush this.”

Alex smiles and does as he’s instructed. He kisses Henry agonizingly slowly, perhaps out of spite, but Henry relishes in it. Alex’s tongue skims along the seam of his lips and Henry opens his mouth to him at once, gripping Alex’s hips as their tongues meet.

He breathes in deeply, his mind growing hazy in that way that Alex is too good at initiating. Henry feels like absolute putty in Alex’s hands, entirely malleable.

Alex must know it too as he takes control and walks Henry back to the nearest wall. Henry instinctively drapes his arms over the man’s shoulders, lightly threading his fingers through Alex’s hair.

Alex lowers his hand between the two of them and lightly cups Henry. Henry sucks in a surprised breath at the touch.

“Next time,” Alex says quietly, tauntingly.

Henry whimpers in protest.

“Unless,” Alex tacks on in question.

Henry pulls his face back a little and licks his lips.

“Touch was on the agenda, right? We can do a teaser.” Henry sighs. “Rather, selfishly, I really want you to keep touching me. That felt nice,” he admits.

Alex laughs softly but places his hand back over Henry. His cock twitches immediately at the attention. He clenches his jaw as Alex strokes him lightly over his clothes. Henry’s eyes shut, his head resting back against the wall.

His arousal grows with each stroke, his whole body feeling liable to melt. If Alex had touched him like this their first night, it most definitely would have set a different tone for the evening.

He rocks forward as he resumes their kiss. Alex tentatively squeezes his cock. Henry moans against his lips, heart pounding. Alex squeezes him again before continuing to stroke him. Henry can feel himself leaking.

Alex’s hand creeps up, gripping the waistband of his jeans. Henry desperately wants to feel Alex’s skin on his in earnest, but he reminds himself that this is merely their first day. He can’t lose himself like this, no matter how good it feels.

He touches Alex’s wrist lightly and opens his eyes. Alex stills at once and lets go.

“I think that’s good for day one,” Henry whispers.

Alex nods. “Yeah, that was, uh,” he clears his throat and returns his arm to his side as he steps back, “that was enough.”

And yet still, Henry wants more. He wonders if it would be wiser or more efficient for them to blow through the lessons in one go. Maybe that way they could in fact spend the rest of their time together doing what they’ve signed contracts for and are actually getting paid to do.

But the knowledge that he can get access to Alex like this for several more weeks makes him throw away all sense and logic. He wants an excuse to keep these clandestine meetings going.

“I’m gonna grab a shower,” Alex says unhelpfully. All his words do is put images in Henry’s mind that shouldn’t be there.

Henry nods stiffly.

“I’ll get started on dinner for us in the meantime,” Henry says. Maybe getting lost in the rhythm of cooking will make it easier for him to calm down.

“I’ll see you in a bit then,” Alex replies.

Henry sees him out and waits until he hears Alex’s footfalls down the hall before locking his door and undoing his pants to finish the job Alex started.

#rwrb fic #red white and royal blue #firstprince #firstprince fic #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex claremont diaz #userthai #tusersonia #tuserpaige #ronenrubinstein #usernicholas #usersteen #tusersilence #userjamiec #kimmy writes

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noxexistant · 10 months

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Ok so I couldn't always see them great bc the fuckign World gate was in the way but a few things I both saw and remembered:

- Oscar's voice kind of hitched in his throat a bit on the "I guess he didn't take care of me" line. Barely noticeable but I noticed it, I heard The Angst

- Just before The World Will Know when Wiesel gestures for Morris to follow him and Oscar to stay, they started just smacking each other's hats until Morris was too far down for Oscar to reach

- When they were escorting Jack out of Pulitzer's office they wouldn't look at anyone. Oscar was a bit more subtle but Morris very blatantly turned his head away completely

- When the newsies are lining up to buy papers at the end someone (couldn't tell who, they were on the other side of the stage and partially obscured) stole the cash box and jokingly proposed to Oscar with it

- And not a Delancey Brothers observation but Delancey Actors, Owen Stringer was a pro ignoring a Very Big Moth continuously flying into his face when he was playing Bill jskdksd

absolutely screaming over these

owen oscar launched Very suddenly and sharply into aggression on the thursday matinee during the “i guess he didn’t take care of me” line, the idea of his voice hitching is Killing me. it was my first time seeing owen oscar (FINALLY) and he was fantastic, i absolutely looooved how angry and sharp he is

the Acting in pulitzer’s office always kills me too. it’s one of those moments where morris very frequently looks wrought with guilt, while oscar is doing his best to remain cold (ajh oscar used to always keep glancing at morris, his own expression wavering). i have some more notes in my askbox from someone else mentioning how morris basically dissociates in pulitzer’s office, and that always makes me [screams]. that scene, even though they’re both just stood silently, is just a beacon of their dynamic and their character complexities and i want to Eat it

also, i can so perfectly picture albert doing the cash box proposal 💀 oscar snatching it back and muttering, “ain’t even any a’ your money in it” while al just grins at him

and there was a moth at the thursday show too!!! 😭 it was around a lot but Especially in pulitzer’s office scenes, it loved the chandelier - and i believe largely left owen alone thankfully. mans is a Professional though. however, whoever was playing darcy/morris at that point (jack or rory) Fully accidentally chucked their rag while cleaning the printing press

do you remember who was on for morris? :’) was it george? i neeeed to see him and owen together finally. mentioned to owen how excited i was to finally catch him as oscar, and he was like “yeah, this is my first time on as him in…three weeks? i wasn’t sure i even remembered the choreo.” and then he did his lil ending choreo dancey-dance for me 🥲

#i love people sharing their delancey notes with me i genuinely treasure it so much #answered #whistlingstarlight #morris delancey #oscar delancey #uksies

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awesomefringey · 2 years

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Hi Sabine- hope you are having a good day. I have a question about PR relationships. I’ve never really been a fully committed fan of anyone before I discovered 1D and Louis and Harry (except maybe in the early 90’s but that was pre-social media so different parameters) so I’ve never paid close enough attention to one person to follow along with them outside of regular mainstream news, and I gave up reading gossip mags about 20yrs ago when I realised they were mostly bullshit.

I’ll preface this with saying that I absolutely don’t believe Harry is in a relationship with Olivia. My question is surrounding the purpose of some of the ‘sightings’. I get the pap walks and the attendance at high media profile events like Coachella etc. as these make their way into the GP’s realm and assist with PR for both of them (and reinforce Harry’s closet) . I don’t understand the objective behind the side stage/ backstage presence and other more obscure sightings such as these? This seems like something only fans would pay attention to (sometimes the photos only come from fans in the crowd) and I don’t believe the PR is there to convince fans of anything as I don’t think either side of this fandom supports her.

Is this extra ‘togetherness’ outside of the organised for Media outlets pap stuff a normal aspect of a PR relationship? Usually I’m quite good as seeing the rationale behind general things we are shown in different aspects of the media etc. but I don’t see what purpose this serves- am I just being thick?

Hi nonnie, thank you for reaching out because I could ramble about this forever. But I think your guess would be as good as mine since we both share similar experiences around fandoms and observing PR strategies.

This is going to be long, so my apologies in advance. 💜

I think Holivia has huge issues with credibility and image. In the general public they’re far from the iconic Bennifer-fication. They are called a “strange couple” and depending on the POV people wonder why Harry is with her or the other way around.

It must be a great disappointment that even Harry's het fanbase doesn't buy into it and rejects Olivia. I think younger fans can’t identify with her because she’s so much older and Harry’s fans closer to her age are furious about her behavior while dragging her kids into it all and making a show of custody battles like it’s some trashy reality tv. (It’s not helping either that she’s got a long history of treating people poorly.) This all manifests itself in very weak Holivia UAs with like 8k followers at best, of which many only lurk to rant over what they see if we’re being honest.

My impression is that Full Stop planned to market Holivia as this woke ageism-breaking ‘newly single mum succeeding in Hollywood in a male dominated field proving 40 with kids is not the end for romance or beauty or indefinite freedom’ dating this ‘gender bending rockstar aspiring actor who sells nail polish and wears dresses and waves his ally-LGBTQ flags every night but is so so very straight and therefore an icon who ends toxic masculinity’ where brand endorsement deals can be used in double with access to two different target groups/demographics. Harry and Olivia both wear éliou pearl necklaces, Bode, Gucci, Vans, Pleasing, Harry merch. Even better when one wears what seemingly belongs to the other. So outrageous. 🙄

But what happened instead is that people only saw an odd couple with zero chemistry that got together under questionable circumstances (they were still filming DWD due to the delay from closing the set) with Harry as Olivia's subordinate, when she had JUST separated (or had she?), and Harry had only been booked for his second role… And all of it in the wake of Times Up and Me Too as if THIS were the New Hollywood... To me it was the dirtiest kick off for a Pro-mance I could have ever imagined. I hate that Harry is involved in this shit.

Maybe many don’t see it like I do, but to me who takes great pride in feminist values and has worked hard in my profession to overcome the “cute and pretty label” to be taken seriously and now being a team lead in a male dominated field myself, it triggers me to no end. A female in a position of power should never abuse it and call it feminist. Olivia Wilde doesn't bring change when she stands for the same toxic values and creates unsafe work environments that have existed all along.

Why am I pointing it out? Because that part, the beginning of it all is something they still try to make up for. The longer this lasts, the less it looks like a reckless work hook up and more like a super serious love story that needed to happen under any circumstances.

Coming back to your actual question and taking into account what I said above - Olivia hasn’t been offered any deals at all so far.

I'm not aware Olivia is in talks for any scripts to be directed by her. The documentary she planned to do was cancelled? It looks like promoting DWD is the only thing left on her agenda. She has a lot of time on her hands and she attempts to use it.

Their ‘organic sightings’ are being used for articles is the thing. Those fan pics of Harry bathing in Dublin were all over the tabloids. Random ‘Olivia at Coachella’ fan videos were used as well. Harry meeting a fan in South England made it into the press. Harry playing golf didn’t.

So pics from the back of Harry unenthusiastically holding Olivia’s hand in Dublin didn’t end up in the tabloids. So Harry kicked it up a notch and went for a swim in Dublin instead. LOL. I really believe that’s the part that’s unpredictable for their teams. They “offer” Holivia content here and there, walking and walking and walking, but what will be newsworthy is up to the tabloids. It’s an unreliable yet very cheap way of creating buzz and promotion. And Olivia looooves the attention and I’m sure she gets off on the idea that people envy her that she gets to be so close to Harry...

#ask #I don’t even know if my ramblings answered your question #I could talk about this for ages #holivia

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agentem · 1 year

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I had a pretty strong reaction to this week’s “The Last of Us.” Like I still am having trouble posting about it.

I am chronically ill with autoimmune diseases. And it made me think about how reading “The Zombie Survial Guide” in my college days was probably a waste of time.

After spending too much time thinking about it, I decided the only person who could protect me in an apocalypse scenario would be my mom. She is farsighted and doesn’t read well but she is very proud of the fact that she still has “sniper vision” for distance. She’s told me several times her doctor described it that way. She doesn’t have a “real” gun anymore (there are grandkids running around) but she does have a BB gun that she uses to “scare” squirrels in our backyard which I try to remind her is definitely against the law. But I think she’s trying to keep her sniper vision honed. She also grew up on a farm with cows and chickens, growing corn, tomatoes and pumpkins. Since she moved to get married I think her garden, which is more flowers now than on the farm, is her favorite thing in the world—possibly before me and my sisters when we are pissing her off. That’s why she needs to “scare” the squirrels. They eat her seeds and bulbs.

So Bill and Frank, aside from being an adorable queer couple they also sort of fit into “my own” apocalypse story. I wanted to know a lot more details about what Frank did. How did they find out he had Parkinson’s? I guess he must have had tremors. Did they just have Joel and Tess steal some old medicine?

What if you had a disease like mine that takes several blood tests and an MRI to diagnose? Do you take random pills for the disease you THINK you have?

I also had melanoma. And my mom had breast cancer. What do you do if that happens? Try to cut it out crudely yourself and hope it hadn’t spread? Like there are meds that you could find in any drugstore. With enough people dead, you could definitely find obscure ones easier than pain killers which people might loot. But chemo drugs? You’d have to go to a hospital or clinic and I think hospitals would be bad places to go if it’s a VIRUS or infection causing the apocalypse. Clinics might have better stuff but do they just leave chemo bags lying around? I can’t imagine they have a long shelf life.

Anyway I want a whole show about the Parkinson’s and I was kind of angry when we went back to Joel and Ellie. The end of Bill and Frank’s story is sweet the way they changed it. But only because they got to live a full life together that we only see snippets of. I don’t want disabled people to IMMMEDIATELY off themselves in an apocalypse (and I wanted something about how it had gotten worse and he couldn’t enjoy his life anymore).

I liked it. I thought both actors were very good. It just also stirred up a lot of feelings I have about people considering disabled people, like, not worthy of their own story. They are just there to set up Joel’s arc with Ellie.

#the last of us #thou #bill x frank #bill and frank #nick offerman #murray bartlett #spoilers

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grimrester · 1 year

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Sara's Big Review of Found Footage Horror Films You've Probably Never Seen

Tired of googling "found footage movies" and being told to watch Blair Witch or V/H/S again? Already watched all the highly recommended “obscure” films? Me too! I have trundled through the depths of Tubi and The Found Footage Critic to find some stuff that you've probably never heard of before. Now you too can reap the benefits of my obsession with this curated list of hidden gems!

The list is in no particular order, but there will be a secondary list of "honorable mentions" at the end, for movies that I feel don't quite fit the genre or I can only half-recommend.

Accessibility note: Tubi is great about including closed captions/subtitles, so most of these have full subs. I’ll make a note of any entries that have no or limited subs.

Death of a Vlogger

A vlogger accidentally captures paranormal activity on film and goes viral. He teams up with a popular (and possibly fraudulent) ghost hunter to ride the wave of his recent fame. This one is set up mockumentary style rather than solely found footage.

A lot of found footage is more about scares than story, but this is one of the few films I watched with a genuinely compelling story arc. Without spoiling too much, I had some real trouble guessing the ending of this one. It's a fun ride and there's some good scares. There's also some novel camera shots, like a "360" video that's been edited for a flat viewing experience.

trailer | available for free on Tubi

Rorschach

Two skeptics meet up with a single mom and her daughter to investigate the supposed hauntings they’ve been experiencing in their home. Imagine if Paranormal Activity was filmed by someone actively trying disprove the ghost instead of just catching it in action.

I’ll admit this one feels almost directly targeted at me, as a diehard skeptic. It’s a fun perspective to approach the story from and while a few other movies I watched did this, this one felt the best executed. Not terribly scary but pretty believable, which is my favorite trait in found footage!

Accessibility note: no subtitles, only auto-cc.

trailer | available for free on YouTube

(Bonus: if you like this concept but prefer aliens to ghosts, check out Case 347. It was pretty good but didn’t personally appeal to me.)

Hollows Grove

Did you like Grave Encounters? Great news! This one has a similar premise - fake as hell ghost hunters show up to film their show and get a real haunting instead.

I won’t pretend this one is offering anything more than a carnival ride of scares. But they’re pretty competent scares, and at points the acting is genuinely impressive.

trailer | available for free on Tubi

Catskill Park

What if Blair Witch was about aliens and had the budget and special effects of a Sy-Fy Channel Original Movie? That’s Catskill Park.

The actors are all giving off “small time actor doing their absolute best for their highlight reel” vibes, which I actually found kind of charming. And there’s a couple of scenes that genuinely impressed me with how they were shot and the energy the actors brought. I didn’t necessarily find it scary, but it was definitely interesting.

trailer | available for free on Tubi

The Andy Baker Tapes

A high-strung, quick to anger YouTuber meets his eerie, awkward half-brother for the first time. They promptly go on a road trip together.

This is the only psychological thriller I watched that was actually executed well. The tension in this one is absolutely on par with more popular found footage thrillers like Creep. I think if I had to give someone just one recommendation from this list, it’d probably be this one.

trailer | available for free on Tubi

The Unknown Visitor

This is one of the few I watched a trailer for before watching, and I was pretty sure it would probably make this list based on the premise alone.

This one’s a pretty good little ghost story... told entirely through a stationary doorbell cam. This is arguably a movie that shouldn’t work without some pretty smart finessing, but it’s honestly pretty effective! It’s also the shortest watch on the list, so it’s great if you’re looking for just a quick spooky movie.

trailer | available for free on Tubi

Honorable Mentions

Bed Eater: The Movie

I don't know what the fuck this was. It isn't horror, that's for sure. But it sure as fuck was weird.

Bed Eater is a "successful" "blogger" (and also a real Instagram account which exists) who posts pictures of herself eating in bed. Daniel is a film student who is enamored with her work and wants to film the process of making her final post.

If that sounds like some dumb shit, that's because it is. As a former art school kid, I innately understood every single character in this.

I could not find a trailer for this movie when I googled it. What I found instead was the entire film.

Accessibility note: no subtitles.

watch the whole thing on Vimeo

#Screamers

An up-and-coming video streaming site gets an anonymous submission and react as though they've never seen a screamer video before. After uploading it, it goes viral, and they become determined to track down the submitter to pay them to make more videos.

Okay, look. I'm not going to lie, this one is silly, a little dull in the middle, and ALL of the scares are literally just screamers. But the fake-website-talk and random hacking scene are REALLY funny. The actors really put on their best "Sillicon Valley weirdos" impressions.

trailer (WARNING THE TRAILER STARTS WITH A SCREAMER) | available for free on Tubi

The Last Broadcast

Did you really enjoy Lake Mungo? Replace that movie’s troubled teen with a cast of local celebrities and the themes of loss and family with the theme of levels of deception in media and you’d get The Last Broadcast. They have very similar vibes and structures. It really kept me hooked the whole way through.

This one hurts me to put on the honorable mentions, because I genuinely enjoyed most of it. However, the ending makes such a baffling and abrupt tonal/editing shift that I can’t really recommend it without including that as a caveat.

trailer | available for free on Tubi

Deprivation

Three dudes drive up to a cabin in the middle of the woods to film an experiment where they stay awake for 7 days.

For a movie without a lot of actual scares, this one sure had me on edge! The three stars do a pretty believable job of playing off each other. Once the deprivation sets in, it’s hard to tell who might snap and what’s real or not.

It’s in the honorable mentions for the same reason as the last entry. Why do these otherwise competent filmmakers not know how to end a movie???

trailer | available for free on Tubi

#horror movies #movie recommendation #list #found footage

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jadelotusflower · 1 year

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Obscure Christmas Movie Rewatch: A Mom for Christmas

Tired of your yearly watches of Love Actually and Muppet’s Christmas Carol? Underwhelmed by the churn of Netflix/Hallmark Christmas movies that have approximately three plots and only two titles?

Well this year welcome to my Obscure Christmas Movie Rewatch, where I revisit corny tv movies from my childhood, often available in terrible potato quality on YouTube!

First up it’s A Mom for Christmas! Made in that glorious year of fashion and good taste 1990, with a girl who wants (guess what), an Australian mannequin who wants to be real girl, and a witch who brings them together for Christmas.

Meet Jessica Slocum (unclear if she has a blue-haired English Aunt obsessed with her pussy):

Believe it or not, the messy braids/floppy hat combo was peak fashion at this time (look up Blossom if you want to know more).

Jessica’s idea of a good time is to wander around a department store looking forlornly at the other girls shopping with their mothers, to the angelic voice of the late great Olivia Newton John singing “what if?”

Meet Philomena (Doris Roberts, also late and great), a witch who for some reason works in a department store even though she can grant wishes. She also saves mannequins from trash compactors and encourages people to pick up litter. I kind of wish the movie was about her.

She grants Jessica’s wish of a Mom for the holidays, and bring one of the store’s mannequins to life in the form of Amy Miller. Now, ONJ was always a better singer than an actor, and maybe it’s just the childhood nostalgia talking, but she’s exceedingly charming in this.

Jessica’s dad is this dweeb Jim Slocum (Doug Sheehan), who allows her to move in after she shows up at the door claiming to answer an ad he placed for childcare. You can see where this is going.

There’s a wiff of Xanadu about the whole thing, except instead of a Greek Muse awoken from a painting, this time ONJ is given human form from plastic, and sadly there are no roller-skating musical numbers.

What follows are various Born Yesterday tropes, including Amy cooking chicken noodle soup for breakfast, reading Jessica’s diary and inviting her crush over, and trying to put out a fire with eggnog. Jess learns that having a mother comes with conflict, and Amy learns to cry, as another ONJ song plays in the background.

There’s also the drama of taking one of the store’s cars to go tree shopping (driven by a mannequin chauffeur), and Jessica needing to remember her lines for the school Christmas play (the Santa mannequin helps her out).

There is however a genuinely hilarious moment as Doug sits in the aftermath of the Christmas tree fire, surrounded by burned family photos of his dead wife. Amy pops her head around the corner and chirps: “Are you sure you don’t want some gazpacho?”

There are three different shades of pink in this outfit - the early 90′s, everyone!

Since it’s all very low stakes, we need a villain in the form of mustachioed Jacob Carter Mr Morelli (Carmen Argenziano), the store’s security chief who hates Christmas and (for some reason) mannequins, and wants to bust Amy for shoplifting the clothes she left the store wearing when she came to life.

There’s also a subplot about how the mannequins with no faces or souls are replacing the “real” mannequins, treated 100% seriously, accompanied by creepy music.

Was this some kind of social commentary about department stores losing their vibe and becoming mass-commercialised and soulless rather than retaining customer-focused charm, told through the lens of mannequins who come alive at night vs those who don’t? Probably not. This has no bearing on the actual story other than the threat that if Amy turns back into a mannequin she’ll be replaced and destroyed. But this remains unresolved at the end as we can only assume Amy’s mannequin friends, not so lucky to become human, will shortly be relegated to the trash compacter Philomena saved Santa from in the opening sequence.

Amy has the power to bring other mannequins to life, but they all cheer her off at the end instead of asking her to wake them up so they can stage a mass breakout and save themselves. Way to pull the mortality ladder up after you, Amy.

Kids, the 90’s was nothing but hats and scrunchies. It was a simpler time.

And side ponytails. So many side ponytails.

Amy and Jim fall for each other blah blah blah, Jessica has to confront losing another mother so soon after finding her, but at the end of 90 minutes all is well, Jess and Jim’s love for Amy turn her human forever, Morelli gets almost mown down by the mannequin chauffeur and probably has a break from reality, Philomena continues doing her witchy thing, and a Mom for Christmas becomes a Mom for life.

Look, this is not a good movie. There’s only so much work the nostalgia filter can do, and there is a huge amount of schlock and cringe in this. But Olivia Newton John (RIP) is charming, Doris Roberts (RIP) gives an empathetic performance worlds away from Marie Barone, and it’s inoffensive, family fare.

Should your interest be piqued, it can be watched here:

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youtube

#christmas movies #obscure christmas movie rewatch #a mom for christmas #olivia newton john #90's movies #christmas #rewatch #my childhood #nostalgia #jlf rewatch #jlf posts

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nyxelestia · 2 years

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Fic: Drowning Like A Stone

On AO3 @ https://archiveofourown.org/works/40760538

Summary:

“Your life is so weird, Chay,” Ohm finally said. He tried to reach for the story — the lie — that Chay told him, and make it the truth. “Having a secret celebrity boyfriend wasn’t enough, you had to go and get kidnapped by, um, ‘loansharks,’ too?”

He’d hoped that showing he would go along with their would put them at ease, but it did the opposite. Chay’s face crumpled again as he flinched away, while Porsche frowned in confusion.

“Boyfriend?” he asked, bewildered, before looking down at Chay. “You have a boyfriend?”

Ohm opened his mouth to answer, but Chay cut him off with, “Not anymore.”

Five outside perspectives on Chay falling apart, and one introspective from Chay trying to put himself back together again.

So guess who just realized I never actually promoted this fic on Tumblr until now?

Pre-KimChay but Chay-centric for now. (Sequel will be Kim-centric.)

All Five Chapter Previews at once:

Chapter 1: Ohm

For a few moments, they were silent, because what was Ohm supposed to say to that? To any of this? “I saw that picture of your hair,” Ohm tried. Was that because of his break-up with Wik? Or because of the interview? Or was it the whole thing with his brother? Or had Arthee already been dead and Chay was only just now telling them?

…when Ohm thought of it like that, Chay was going through a lot, lately.

Chapter 2: Som

I fucked up and didn't realize the actor who was dyeing Chay's hair and taking him to the club was the same as the one at the open-house event with him. So, uh, meet Ohm's cousin Som!

“You’re sure he didn’t hurt you?”

“Yes!” Chay threw his hands up in frustration. “Why do you keep asking me that?”

“Put yourself in our shoes for a second,” Som said, trying to step forward again. Chay didn’t flinch this time, thank fuck. “If one of your friends had a nasty break-up, but then her ex-boyfriend stalked her, punched strangers away from her, and dragged her away by the wrist even when she didn’t want to leave…what kind of boyfriend would you assume he had been towards her?”

Chapter 3: Porsche I

Porsche started to pull away, but Chay’s grip tightened around him. To the side, Yok jerked away from the scene, fleeing back into her office.

“Take them all to the hospital morgue,” Porsche ordered, wincing when he felt Chay cringe against him. But this was his life, now. He couldn’t just ignore this work, and he couldn’t let go of Chay, and the end result was cuddling his baby brother into his blood-covered chest while telling mafia staff what to do with half a dozen dead bodies. “We had a conflict earlier today at the main compound, and now the morgue there is all full.”

Chapter 4: Porsche II

“A part of me wants to hug you for saving Chay’s life,” Porsche admitted. He tamped down on a smug smile when Kim’s gaze snapped back up to Porsche’s face. “The rest of me, though, kind of wants to take advantage of this convenient privacy you just gave us and drown you in the toilet for breaking Chay’s heart so badly.”

Kim laughed joylessly, a harsh and wet sound only a few steps removed from a sob.

“I deserve that.”

At least he had the decency to admit it.

Chapter 5: Big I

“The mole, Ken, he was…well, I thought he was my best friend. But we still don’t know why or for how long he fed information to Khun Gun. It’s possible that-” Big faltered, then re-gathered himself. “That our entire friendship was a lie.”

Big still didn’t know if he hoped it was, or if he hoped it wasn’t.

“I’m going over every minute of our friendship,” Big admitted for the first time. “Trying to figure out when something changed, or if any of it was real.”

“I’m sorry,” Chay murmured, his hands falling to his sides. “That’s…awful.” He dropped his gaze to his shoes, his blue-tinted bangs falling to obscure his face. “It’s not the same at all, but someone I thought cared for me turned out to have used me, too. It hurt a lot when I found out, but at least back then I didn’t have to worry about trying to figure out when things changed: I knew it was a lie the whole time. I didn’t think until now that it could have been worse.”

#porschay kittisawasd #porchay kittisawat #kimchay #kinnporsche the series #kpts #nyxie writes things #nyxie fics

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kscriba · 1 year

Photo

"Just right in through there, love. Oh, hold on, I need your phone." The receptionist, sitting at a tilted desk with a Macbook, holds out an unmanicured hand.

"My phone? Why would you need that?"

The receptionist's eyebrows disappear into her wig, overlined lips pursing together. "Policy." She snatches a pen about to roll off the side of the desk.

Harriet sets down the phone, grateful for its protective rubber case, and enters the audition room. This one was an online posting on Craigslist, something she would avoid at all costs if it weren't for her desperation to be cast in something. On the cast sheet was "FEMALE AGES 19-26 RED HAIR NOT ABOVE 5'5" - Leading role as upbeat best friend", and she felt like this was too good a fit to pass up. But walking through the undecorated, concrete building and finding a lone man rather than a casting panel and other actors has her second-guessing.

He glances at her, then down to his call sheet. "Harriet, here for the best friend role?"

"That's right."

"Okay, read over this monologue for me, then show me what you've got." It's not the first time an audition has veered off-course from the usual introductions, but usually there's a camera recording and a roomful of people. She ignores the prickles running over her skin and reads over the lines. The part is surprisingly well-written, and when she's ready, she delivers an unmistakingly impactful performance.

The casting director seems to agree, leaning forward in his chair and pushing his glasses up his nose with renewed interest. "Harriet Wade, is that right? You remind me of this famous actor, I can't quite place my finger on it… No matter. Can you just lift your shirt up for me, doll? She's a bit of a curvy character, I need to see if you'd need to put on any weight."

Harriet takes a breath and pulls off her shirt. If shirtlessness was required, it should have been on the call sheet. Maybe it was? She can't remember anymore.

"Very good, excellent! The character has a sex scene, are you comfortable with that?"

"Uh, yes, I mean I haven't had it—haven't had one yet, I mean, but I—"

"Hmm. You've never done a sex scene professionally? Tricky." He leans back in the chair, hand on his chin. Harriet wonders whether she can put her shirt back on. "The first season really culminates with this one scene. The best friend has been carrying on a secret relationship for a long time, so it can't look like her first time performing. How about you give me some improv? I want to see that you're comfortable with it, otherwise it's a problem." He flips through the script, pulls a page out of the clip, and slides it across his desk. "It's a blowjob scene, obscured so you can really see the anguish in her face during this act. Do you think you can do it?"

"Yes, of course," she lies, heart pounding in her chest. Is this a normal audition request? Is this why it isn't being recorded? At least it's not being recorded… Harriet stares down at the paper. There aren't a lot of details on it. She kneels down, opens her mouth and… "Oh, fuck no!" From this position, she can see under the table, and exactly where the casting director's hand is moving. She leaps to her feet, pulling her shirt back on and pointing at him with a trembling finger. "You're not getting away with this, you fucking pervert."

"Really?" His arm pumps faster. "A no-name, agentless fat chick makes an accusation after going to an audition on Craigslist? Good luck."

Harriet takes a moment to up-end the table into the man's face before darting out into the hall. "He's a fucking sicko!" she barks into the receptionist's face.

"Here's your phone back, love." She drops the phone into Harriet's hands. "No need for the dramatics. This is private property. He didn't touch you. He didn't hurt you. You know how many women—"

"You're defending him?! You knew about this?"

"Toughen up, Wendy. With your looks, you have to suck a few cocks to get by in this business. Or are you afraid of being famous for the wrong reasons?" She smacks her gum, laying a challenging stare on Harriet.

Harriet storms out of the office, phone pressed to her ear. She may write 'Wade' on the audition sheets, but she's still a Templeton.

#ts4 #the sims 4 #the sims #sims 4 #sims #hatty #harriet

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blaberid · 2 years

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the funhouse 2022 bonus material thoughts and opinions

i will never forgive shout factory for releasing the new funhouse bonus content only on a region A blu-ray disc and not on dvd, but after spending SO much time and money i was finally able to watch them... and i gotta say... it was all worth the struggles.

(i can’t get actual screencaps cuz i can’t play the disc on my computers and i can’t find the content uploaded anywhere online and apparently you gotta have a phd in engineering in order to get the most out of blu-ray technology but yknow. honestly it’s a miracle i got the disc to play on my crusty old tv at all. like i pictured having to buy an entirely new tv in order to get to play these bonus features. like i know i can’t play the first disc included which is exclusive to ultra hd 4k televisions which i certainly do not have. would i have done it had that been the only solution? um........)

i gained so much new insight from 3 of the actors, absolutely lovely ppl, and craig reardon who finalized the monster mask after rick baker did the initial design!

the monster's design is loosely based on a cleft headed man, apparently baker worried about making a monster out of a real life condition so he really amped up the fantastical monster features! so much care was put into the design!!

they could not afford to have the eyes move so the monster's differing facial expressions are mostly just lighting tricks it seems, doba could hardly see in it and it was very hard to move the hands, he did such an amazing job under those conditions holy frick!!!

they showed some closeup photographs of the mask and hands that made the details so much easier to see, something that had flown past me completely is the fact that one of the monster's hands has two fingers fused together!!! but looking back at the movie scenes i can see it!!

scene from the movie:

you can clearly see the fused fingers!! FUN FACTOID this is an obscure detail even this licensed enamel pin design missed:

i would have liked some insight on the frankenstein monster costume, like how would the monster wear those hands over his own deformed claws? i read somewhere the frankenstein costume was made specifically for the movie but don’t quote me on it.

in the little character analysis they did, they really put emphasis on the monster just being an emotionally driven creature from an abusive household who never actually meant to kill anybody! he killed madam zena accidentally in a fit of rage, and his dad had to negotiate really hard with him to get him to agree to kill the teens, and he only did end up killing liz after she stabbed him.

they use the name gunther a few times so i guess that makes it as canon as it can get. like it was the name used in the novelization that i refuse to acknowledge lmao but fine. it's that or they have no names at all. :o)

overall!!!!! good interviews!!! i feel so fulfilled!!!

#the funhouse #horror #ridijournal

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usergreenpixel · 2 years

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JACOBIN FICTION CONVENTION MEETING 19: MADAME SANS-GÊNE (1961)

1. The Introduction

Greetings, Citizens and Neighbors! Welcome to a special Christmas review of the Jacobin Fiction Convention! Today, January 7th, is Christmas in Russia, even though it��s only celebrated by people of Orthodox Christian faith.

But, guess what, I am an Orthodox Christian and I do celebrate this holiday so here is my Christmas present for everyone. This review is dedicated to @saintjustitude , @stalinistqueens , @suburbanbeatnik , @jefflion , @idieonthishill , @theravenclawrevolutionary , @joachimnapoleon , @josefavomjaaga , @tairin , @fountain-ring , @fireortheflood , @michel-feuilly , @taleonne , @janellefeng , @revolutionary-catboy , @revolution-and-football , @spunkyjacobin , @donpishya , @maggiec70 , @edgysaintjust , @quercusfloreal , @aminoscribbles , @elisabeth515 , @robespapier and a newcomer in our Convention, Citizen @jaeee-e !

Okay, now we can begin! Once again, I found a movie that is Napoleonic and FRev- related at the same time! Thanks, IMDb! Apparently there are two movies with this title but today we’re only discussing the 1961 one, with Sophia Loren.

As I’m a big fan of older movies and I really like it when media tackles obscure people, I knew I had to watch this one and review it for both communities!

Unfortunately, most of you will only be able to find it on Amazon Prime Video so it’s not exactly readily available online, but, if anyone manages to dig something that doesn’t require subscriptions up, call me.

Anyway, I’m excited for this so let’s just proceed! On with the show!

2. The Summary

The titular Madame Sans-Gêne is Catherine Lefebvre (née Hübscher), wife of Marshal Lefebvre and Duchess of Danzig.

This is the story of her journey from a simple laundress to war hero to a noble, and of the trials and tribulations that she has to overcome while fighting for her happiness with her beloved husband.

I’m not a fan of love stories for the most part, but let’s take a closer look at this one.

3. The Story

For once, the pacing wasn’t confusing to me! Yay! The movie doesn’t try to squeeze in too much time chronologically and instead it treats us to a couple of time skips where the subtitles on screen and the narrator helpfully explain the historical bullet points to give us the context.

This is awesome, especially for people who don’t know much about Frev and/or the Napoleonic era, as it spares them the unnecessary confusion. Therefore, more people can enjoy this movie.

I also love the fact that, while romance is basically an essential part of the plot, it’s rather skillfully intertwined with quite a bit of action, comedy and even drama.

Besides, for once, I was actually sold on the love story of Catherine and Lefebvre. I’m sure the actors also contributed to this, but I personally actually believed that the main couple actually was madly in love and ready to do anything to stay together. And trust me, they do some truly ballsy shit, especially Catherine. More on her later.

There is also some filler that does a pretty good job at character establishment and character development, but not so much that it becomes unbearable and is just filler.

(Spoiler alert!)

That said, I kind of wish that the main conflict, what with Napoleon wanting to make Lefebvre King of Westphalia on the condition that he divorces Catherine after the latter’s blunt remarks cause a scandal, wasn’t resolved as quickly as it was and just brushed aside, but I still enjoy this certain naïveté.

Not all stories have to be extremely complex thrillers and I still enjoyed it. Sure, the theme of “the power of love” might be cliché, but there’s nothing wrong with exploring it yet again. Love in any form is indeed a universal concept and, let’s face it, sometimes we do need simpler stories such as this one.

There’s also a bit of foreshadowing about Napoleon becoming Emperor that’s a bit too obvious for my tastes, but that’s not a serious complaint.

Alright, let’s look at the characters.

3. The Characters

(Spoiler alert!)

Boy, do I love Catherine here! She is basically the personification of the phrase “old habits die hard”.

Blunt, witty, rude, hardworking and independent, she is not afraid to speak her mind to anyone, soldier or emperor. That said, she is also loyal and caring. She follows her husband to war, cares for wounded soldiers and even gets wounded herself. I also like the fact that her blunt remarks are picked up by the press and provoke a scandal. It shows that our heroine isn’t some Mary Sue who is completely above consequences.

Moreover, she and Lefebvre BOTH wreak absolute havoc in the camp of Austrians, who had captured them earlier and wanted to execute them. Catherine is a fucking badass! Sure, she still displays realistic emotions like fear and sadness, but she is a strong woman who never goes down without a fight.

Her playful banter with Napoleon and Augereau is also genuinely entertaining.

Lefebvre is a badass here too (in real life he took part in the battle of Fleurus, Citizens), but he doesn’t have the courage to stand up to Napoleon at first. It is indeed daunting because Napoleon is the Emperor and can actually make Lefebvre a King and can make him divorce Catherine.

Realistically, Lefebvre hesitates because he genuinely loves Catherine but also doesn’t find the courage to oppose Napoleon...until he does. This is what I like the most about his character in the movie. His hesitation is understandable but he finds the strength to go straight to Napoleon, tell him he can’t divorce his wife and add that he doesn’t need a throne nor his title if it means that he will have to be without his beloved.

I love characters who fight for their happiness no matter what, and I love the way Lefebvre overcomes his fear in the movie. Plus he has a cute kitten here and there’s a sweet scene involving him and Catherine cuddling her.

Napoleon here is actually complex. As a common general, he has playful banters with Catherine and messes around with her, but later he becomes Emperor, gets arrogant as fuck and even has a few really angry outbursts. One of said outbursts is directed at his own siblings when they’re discussing who should get Westphalia.

Napoleon complains that everyone in his family is a leech and they wouldn’t be where they are without him, which is kinda true but it also looks like here the power went to his head.

That said, when he recognizes Catherine and when she manages to convince him not to make the divorce happen, he reverts back to the way he acted with her before - that same witty banter! He even admits his defeat and he and Catherine have a good laugh while remembering the past.

Napoleon’s siblings (Jerome, Caroline, Elise and Pauline) are shown as petty arrogant assholes who try to put Catherine in “her place”. Jokes on them because she wastes no time ranting about how she did more (on the battlefield) than all of them (at home) and how they all would be nobodies had the Revolution not happened so they end up utterly humiliated.

Augereau, Jourdan and Masséna make cameos and Catherine uses them to prove her point how all of them were commoners before.

Augereau playfully pinches Catherine’s ass at one point, but it’s not portrayed as harassment, more as a joking thing on his part. They seem to be quite friendly in this movie.

Last but not least, F**ché. He literally listens to the Bonaparte family while hiding behind a secret door and skillfully manipulates people and situations. But, like the snake he is, he knows all the right words to say and is polite and deceivingly friendly at times.

In general, the characters feel like real people here. They bicker, they talk about their plans for Sunday or the future in general, they overcome conflicts and they all have something interesting about them!

4. The Acting

I really like Sophia Loren here, but almost every single actor does a fantastic job. Nothing but mad respect for that!

5. The Music

I love music in older movies. I don’t know why but it really appeals to me. Plus, they insert revolutionary songs in the beginning, which is a plus in my book!

6. The Setting

The settings and the costumes are gorgeous, even though I’m not sure they’re always accurate. At least the Frev costumes are on point though, as far as I can tell.

7. The Conclusion

I really enjoyed this movie and I low key wish it was available online for free, but I still recommend it. It definitely has a charm to it. Just a nice relatively simple story that manages (at least for me) to be a truly exciting piece of media and makes me happy that I discovered this gem.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed our Christmas meeting. Stay tuned for updates and stay safe, everyone!

Merry Christmas,

- Citizen Green Pixel

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duskholland · 4 years

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The Fame Game (Part Nine) - Tom Holland

Summary ↠ Breaking up is hard. But breaking up with your fake boyfriend, with whom you’ve fallen irrevocably and painfully in love with? It’s almost impossible.

Warnings ↠ Angst, Y/N’s being stubborn but can we blame her? Cursing and crying. All the good stuff.

Word count ↠ 5.2k

A/N ↠ This part? Emotional rollercoaster and a half. We’re almost at the end of the story, though! :((( Only part ten and the epilogue to go, and I am not okay. Crazy crazy crazy. Anyway, buckle in and enjoy part nine :)

NINE: Expiration Date (Y)

It’s raining in London. Tracks of grey, miserable water stream down the dirty window, obscuring the view of the city beyond. Your fingers are cold as you hold a mug of stale tea, the liquid pale and long-past its best. You’d poured it an hour ago, intending to throw it back and pull yourself out of your stupor, but you’d failed.

Today is the end of your relationship with Tom - the expiration date, as your team likes to call it. In a move of obscene pathetic fallacy, the weather curled across London seems to emanate your innermost thoughts. It’s cloudy and grey, darkness settled across the sky. In the distance, the clouds grow blacker, and a part of you wonders if it’ll thunder later.

You feel a tear slip from one of your eyes, and the warm line traces down your cheek as you sniffle. With slow movements, you finally put down the mug, crossing your arms over your chest as you continue to stare out of the window, vacantly. You’re in your London flat, your belongings in boxes around you. With the conclusion of a final filming project comes the end of your lease, and when you leave London tonight on a plane, you leave behind your flat, your job, and your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend.

Your fake boyfriend, who sometimes acts like your real boyfriend, but has made it all too clear that he is only, only, only your fake boyfriend.

A scowl springs out across your face, and your fingers curl into fists at your sides.

You thought you’d been hurt by Tom before. For years, you’ve felt anger towards him - resentment, irritation, burning frustration. You’ve cursed him out on countless occasions, publicly denounced him, and watched on as he’s returned every move you’ve made against him with equal ferocity. At almost every given opportunity, Tom has launched blow after blow at you, but you’d taken it. You had accepted that that was just your relationship - that sometimes two people don’t get along, and sometimes they thrive off irritating the other. His insults didn’t touch you - not really, not like this. They’d riled you up and they’d made you seethe, but they were just insults - just empty, irritating insults, which you’d returned with a smile on your face. But now…

For the first time, Tom Holland has actually broken your heart.

It’s painful when you think about him, as you cast your mind back to your last day together. You’d been so excited, so hopeful, when you’d turned up at his place in LA, and as he’d laid you down and you’d held one another, you’d felt the love you have for him grow. Each time he’d kissed you, you felt your love deepen. Each pass of his hands over your skin made your heart race, your mind shake. You’d been waiting on the right time to open your mouth, say the three golden words, and then propose giving your relationship a real shot, only for Tom to jump the gun and tell you that he, in fact, loved you.

To have Tom stand opposite you and tell you that he loves you - only to immediately follow it up with a retraction - has shattered you. You can’t stop thinking about the moment that you’d let yourself believe, for one brief, shocking second, that Tom reciprocated your love - that Tom had softened out, and grown to love you, too. His words had knocked you off-guard, but fuck, if they weren’t the sweetest three words you’d ever heard. You’d been fully prepared to drop everything and jump into his arms, only for him to add--

“No… Wait, no.”

You are upset. You are so fucking angry. You are a whirlwind of tears and clenched fists and stiff jaws. The more you contemplate it, the hollower you feel. You have never known heartbreak as pronounced as this.

You hate the power that you’ve given Tom. Hate that you’d walked straight into this, eyes open. You can’t even blame it on blind infatuation, because you’d been aware at every moment how dangerous your budding feelings were, just you’d chosen to ignore the warning signals, too distracted by Tom’s easy smile and his kisses. You hate that you let him break your heart, hate that he’s emerged from this unscathed when you feel the weakest you’ve ever been.

But above all, you hate that you don’t hate him. It would be so easy to slip back into old habits, to return to that blind, festering hatred that used to roar through your veins at the mere mention of his name. You can’t return to that, and every time you try to drum up some anger towards Tom, you’re instead reminded of how nice, and funny, and sweet he can be.

You release a shaky breath. It’s your expiration date, today. All that’s left of your relationship is a visit to Tom’s house to collect your things, and a few pap photographs of you leaving his place, in pieces. There’s no doubt in your mind that the paparazzi will find it convincing: you’ve been a mess for days, your tears will be real. You’re full of apprehension and rattled nerves about seeing him again, about walking back into his house knowing it’ll be the last time and having to act like he hasn’t reached into your chest and ripped out your heart.

You are an actor, to your core, but your role within this relationship has been your hardest performance to date - and you have the sinking suspicion that not even you can pull off the denouement.

The paparazzi are already outside Tom’s as you walk down his front path, raindrops bouncing off your jacket. The flashes from their cameras illuminate the garden, and your eyes hurt as the light glints off the collection of small garden gnomes Harrison and Tom keep in front of their house. You’re quick to drum your knuckles on the front door, tugging on the chords of your hood and trying to shy away from the yelling journalists.

After what feels an eternity, the door is opened. Tom stares out at you, eyes widening as he takes in the pouring rain.

“Shit, it’s wet today, isn’t it?” He mutters, quickly moving aside. You hurry into the house, sighing contentedly as the warmth envelops you. You kick off your shoes, but your fingers are frozen solid and you can’t quite tug the zip of your coat. “Do you need help?”

You glance up, seeing Tom eyeing your shivering fingers as you try and fail to release the slippery zip. “Yeah,” you mutter, quickly glancing away. It’s not your intention to stay long, but you’re not so inconsiderate that you’d traipse through Tom’s entire house in a dripping jacket.

You stay very still as Tom steps forward, one of his hands holding the bottom of your jacket as the other goes up to the zip. His tongue slips out between his teeth, and a deep crease appears between his eyebrows as he grasps the zip and carefully tugs it down. A smile splits over his face, and you sigh as the coat releases.

“There you go.” Tom doesn’t stop there, though. He goes so far as to help you wiggle out of the jacket, and even hangs it up on the peg for you. The same peg you’d used when you’d stayed with him a few months ago. Your peg. “So.” Tom rocks back on his feet, looking at you through narrowed eyes. “Why haven’t you been answering my texts?”

You clear your throat, crossing your arms over your chest. “What?”

“Y/N.” Tom steps a little closer, his eyes wide with hurt. “My calls, too. I really needed to talk to you.”

“Sorry,” you fib. You’re not sorry, not even one bit. Every time you’d watched your phone go through to answerphone, you’d felt a little stronger. “I’ve been busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Oh, you know. Stuff.”

Tom frowns at you. “Well, I needed to talk to you.”

“Yeah, you said that.” You clear your throat, shaking out your arms as you try to lighten the air between you. You hadn’t meant to come into your last encounter with Tom with so much hostility on your shoulders, but being so close to him again makes your chest ache. “Sorry,” you mutter. “What did you want to talk about?”

Tom nods his head. “Well, it’s… It’s complicated.” Now he’s hesitant, with reluctance clinging to his features. You feel irritation stir inside as you watch him fluster. All you want to do is get this over and done with, so you can leave his house before you start crying again. You don’t want to drag this out.

“Well, can we talk about it as I pack my things?” You ask, your voice clipping a little at the edges.

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” Tom moves out of the way, letting you into the main body of the house. “What do they want us to do, again?”

You bite your lip as you see the photograph that hangs from the wall in the hallway. It’s new, and it shows you, Harrison and Tom, laying out together on one of their sofas. You remember the night well: Harry had taken the picture, teased Tom for the way he’d got you wrapped up in his arms and refused to let go for the duration of the scary film you were all watching. On your other side is Harrison, glaring at you and Tom, mock outrage on his face. It was a good night - near the end of your trip to London, back when things were better.

“Did they send you a box?” You say, voice vacant. You can’t stop looking at the photo, at the way Tom has his face buried in your neck. You look so happy. “They want me to put all my stuff in a box. Apparently, paps just need to see me leaving with all of my things, and then they’ll get the picture.”

“Pretty simple, then?” Tom drops down to his knees, beginning to rummage in the cupboard under the stairs until he procures a big red box. “This is the one they sent.” He passes it up to you. “Will that be big enough?”

“Yeah. I only have a few things here, I think.”

“Cool. Do you want to start upstairs?”

“Why not.”

You feel awkward as you slowly climb the staircase. The air between you is unsettled, and you can tell Tom’s hurt that you’re clearly less than enthused to be here. Part of you wants to soothe him, but the other part wants to run, run, run.

“Harrison not here?” You ask as you walk past his empty bedroom. You enter their spare room, which you’d been crashing in back when you’d stayed, and quickly start pulling out the odd book and bottle you’d left. Management had instructed you to leave a few things back when you’d left, and now you understand why.

“Nah, Liverpool,” Tom says. “It’s just me.” He sits on the edge of the bed, watching as you quickly pile everything into your box. “Look, Y/N, can we please talk?”

“I’m listening.”

“No, no.” Tom stands up, and you freeze as he reaches out for your arm. The second his warm fingers touch your skin, a lump comes to your throat. “I need to- we need to talk.” You stay completely still, closing your eyes as you feel him slide his hand up your arm. His palm rests on your shoulder, weighted and familiar, and the contact makes your heart pang.

“What do you want to talk about, Tom?” You ask, voice hoarse. You keep your eyes shut. The scent of his cologne is so familiar it brings back the tightness in your chest. You aren’t sure if you’re so upset because this is the last time you’ll be together, or if it has more to do with the fact that you can’t look at Tom without being reminded that he doesn’t love you.

“Come and sit down. I can make tea.”

You suck in a deep breath. “You know that I’m walking out of your house in ten minutes and probably never coming back again, yeah?” You mutter. “What’s so important that it deserves a cup of tea?”

Tom only chuckles, not seeming to mind the bitterness of your voice. “I’ll tell you. Over tea.” He squeezes your shoulder, and you finally open your eyes. Your vision swims with tears, but if he notices it, he doesn’t comment on it. “You can pack your stuff up here, and I’ll meet you in the living room. Okay?”

You nod. “Alright.”

You try to delay your conversation for as long as possible, which takes you on a short trip into Tom’s bedroom. In your defence, you don’t mean to snoop - you did, in fact, leave your favourite book on his desk - but you do also take the opportunity to have a little look around.

On Tom’s windowsill is a line of very dead plants, their leaves shrivelled and broken. You roll your eyes as you peer into the empty watering can, chuckling softly. Typical. On his desk is a pile of scripts, dog-eared and stained with the round marks of spilt tea, and crumpled clothes hang everywhere, shoved over various armrests and laying in heaps on the floor. Tom’s entire room is organised chaos.

What catches your eye, though, is the large shelf hammered into the wall. You’ve been in Tom’s room before, hell, you’d spent your last night in London in his bed, but you’d never taken the time to look up and examine this shelf. Settled in the middle of it, gathering dust, is Tom’s BAFTA. You sigh, and instinctively, you reach up and take it.

It’s heavy in your hands. You’ve felt it before, but you’d forgotten the weight of the blue glass trophy. When you’d last touched it, it’d been on the night of the show, and Tom had thrust it into your hands mockingly, making some flippant comment about it being a mark of his success. You’d immediately tossed it back at him, almost dropping it in the process, and shut him down with a snide remark.

Now, you run your thumbs over the award. The curves are smooth beneath your fingertips. You blink a few times, and two tears splash out onto the thing. As you rub them away, you take a deep, shuddering breath.

Pull yourself together, Y/N.

You swallow, and when you release a deep exhalation, you feel steadier. The award goes back to the shelf, and you pick up your box. Just ten more minutes. One conversation, one cup of tea, and ten more minutes. Then you can leave him behind.

How much can change in ten minutes, anyway?

There’s something melancholic about the way you find yourself sitting on Tom’s sofa, facing him again. You’re in the same position that you were in back when you’d customised your shoes together, before everything had gone to shit: you, leaning up against one armrest, Tom against the other, both of you with your legs outstretched and meeting in the middle. Tessa has staked her claim sitting on your feet, and as you sip nervously at your tea, you keep your eyes on her.

“So.” Tom’s fidgeting. If he’s not drumming his fingers over the ceramic of his mug, he’s picking at the strap of his watch. “I need to talk to you.”

You wince a smile. “Yeah, you keep saying that.” You take a sip of your tea. It’s still hot, and it burns the tip of your tongue, but part of you wants to down the whole thing just so you can leave. Being so close to him makes your chest sting.

Tom takes a deep breath. “I said something really stupid the last time we were together. I was… I was just going to leave it, but then I realised that doing that would be even more stupid,” he starts. Immediately, you feel yourself bristle. You can’t have this conversation again.

“We don’t need to talk about it, Tom,” you mutter. “What’s the point? I’m leaving soon.”

“Which is exactly why we need to talk about it, love.” Tom’s eyes are wide, a hint of desperation swirling in them. He sets his tea down on the coffee table and sits up straighter. “I didn’t mean it.”

You sigh, rubbing at your forehead as you feel another stab of pain in your chest. He’s really twisting the knife, now.

“I know,” you remind him. “You’ve already told me that you didn’t mean it.”

“No, no.” Tom shakes his head, running a hand through his curls. “No.” He’s visibly anxious, but you’re too perplexed to consider offering him any comfort. “I mean… I said I didn’t love you. Well, I said I loved you, and then I took it back.”

You release a sound somewhere between a whimper and a groan, and it brings on a fresh set of tears. “Yes, I remember, Tom.”

“Well, I was wrong.”

Very slowly, you look up at him. You put down the tea and bring your knees to your chest, staring at him through hard eyes.

“What?” You say, voice dull.

“I was wrong. I shouldn’t have taken it back.” “Tom.” You’re exasperated and confused. “What are you trying to say?”

“I love you, Y/N. I’m in love with you.”

Your eyebrows pull together. “What?”

“I love you.” Tom’s lips quirk into a soft, warm smile. “And- And I know you probably don’t feel the same way, and you probably don’t want to hear it, but I had to tell you before you leave. You have to know how I actually feel.” He sits forward, and his foot nudges your knee. “I love you. I’m sorry for being a dick, I just… I panicked, I guess.”

Your brain feels like it’s running slow, wading miles behind the rest of you. You’ve spent so many days coming to terms with the fact that Tom doesn’t love you that the evidence for the contrary isn’t sinking in.

“What- but you said that you didn’t love me?” You puzzle.

“I was wrong.”

You look at him. You look at him long and hard. Your eyes dissect the soft smile on Tom’s lips, the eagerness in his eyes, and the blush on his cheeks.

You don’t believe him.

“How can you get something like that wrong?” You ask him, frazzled. “Tom, I- I don’t know if I can trust anything that you say.”

Tom raises an eyebrow. “So you want it to be true?”

“What? Shut up, this isn’t about me.” You have a lump in your throat. “Tom, this is- this is about you, not knowing how you feel.”

“But I do know how I feel. I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you-”

“Stop.”

You can’t take it. With every repetition, it feels like Tom’s rubbing it in your face.

“Y/N?”

You stand up from the sofa, displacing Tessa who whimpers in response.

“You’re so cruel, Tom.”

Tom scrambles to his feet too, hopping as he regains his balance. He stands in front of you. “What? What do you mean?” His eyes are wide with hurt. “I’m being honest, Y/N. How is it cruel to love you?”

Tears form in your eyes.

“You don’t get to take it back. You… First, you said that you loved me. Do you… Do you know how happy that made me?” You screw your hands into fists, voice hoarse. “I thought, for a second, that you loved me. I really, really did. I thought that we could end this stupid thing and just be happy. But then, you turn around, and you take it back. You’re not allowed to take back a declaration of love, Tom. Do you know how- how crushing that was?”

“-But-”

“No, I’m talking.” The end of your nose tingles, and you reach up to brush the wetness from your cheeks. “You… You broke my heart, Tom. Because I-” You break off, and you meet his eyes. You speak directly to him. You finally bare your soul. “I love you, Tom. I fell in love with you, and so for you to turn around and take it back-” You break off, waving a hand through the air. “It broke my heart.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice is raw, and you watch as Tom rubs at his eyes. “I didn’t know, Y/N.”

“How am I supposed to believe you?” You look at the floor, vision blurry. “How am I supposed to believe that you aren’t going to turn around in two minutes and take it back again?” You rub at your arms. “Why do you get all of the power?”

Tom steps closer, but you just move away. “Y/N, please. I don’t want to hurt you. I would never, ever want to hurt you. I was confused, but I know now more than ever how I feel about you.”

“But you have hurt me, Tom,” you say, finally looking back at him. “Our entire relationship has been us hurting each other. Why should it be any different now?”

Tom clasps his hands together, his cheeks red and ruddy. “We both know it’s different now.”

“Is it?” You release a dim laugh. “Because I feel, just now, exactly as horrible as I used to feel when we’d argue, Tom. All we’ve ever done is hurt.”

“That’s the past.” Tom’s voice is picking up now, growing in strength. When he looks at you, you see his jaw flexing. “I’m sorry for the ways I’ve acted, Y/N, but I can’t change it now. All I can tell you is that you’ll be making a bad decision if you walk out of the door.”

“I have to.” It’s too much to process - too much to think about when Tom’s looking at you so desperately. This morning you’d woken up expecting an awkward visit and then a plane ride far, far away from him. This revelation upends all of that.

“No, you don’t.” Finally, you let Tom take your hands. He runs his thumbs over the back of your palms and you whimper. “Stay. Stay here with me. Fuck PR, fuck the paps. We can be together. We can love each other.” He smiles again, softly. “Let me love you. Please.”

It’s very tempting. As Tom holds your hands tightly and stares into your eyes, you want so desperately to cave. You want to throw yourself into his arms and tell him that you love him, that yes, yes, of course you’ll stay with him. But you think back to all the tears that you’ve shed, and you look at his face, and you’re reminded of the night at the BAFTAs when he’d thrust his polished trophy into your face and bragged about it. You think about all of the times he’s made moves against you and tried to trip you up. You think about your last day together, and how easily he’d retracted his statement.

How can he stand here in front of you, and ask you to forget about all of that so easily?

“I can’t.”

You step away from Tom and instead grab your big red box. You walk quickly into the hallway, your eyes full of hot tears. He follows.

“Yes, you can.”

You sit on the stairs and start lacing up your shoes, staring at Tom angrily.

“I can’t.” Your fingers shake as you tie your laces. “I have a flight. I have a life in LA that I need to get back to. This was never part of the plan, Tom. You’re my fake boyfriend. You aren’t supposed to be my real boyfriend.”

“But you love me.” Tom’s blocking your way, his biceps bulging from his black t-shirt as he stands in front of you desperately. “You told me. You said that you love me, Y/N, and I’m telling you that I love you too.”

“Love isn’t always enough, Tom.” It hurts to look at him, to think about how easily and foolishly he’s handled your heart. “Let me go.”

“Love can be enough.” It’s his final attempt; you can see it in his eyes. “Don’t let us end like this, Y/N. Please.” He takes your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips. His mouth moves over your skin, dropping kisses to your cold skin.

You feel trapped. You know the car is waiting outside, and it’s all come on too fast, too soon.

“Tom,” you say. You pull your hand from his grasp. “Let me go.”

Tom steps aside. He finally slumps against the wall, pressing his head into his hands. “Is this what you really want?” His voice is raw, broken, and his eyes are red.

You tug your soaking jacket from the peg on the wall as you shrug haplessly. “You can’t drop these feelings on me ten minutes before I’m out the door and expect me to change my life for you.” You look at him. “It isn’t fair.”

“Fine.” Tom stands up straighter. “You should take off your hoodie, then. It’s mine. Wouldn’t be the best impression of the paparazzi to be seen wearing my clothes, would it?”

You drop your jacket to the floor and start shuffling out of the pink hoodie. It’s an oversized fit, and it comes off easily, but you chuckle bitterly. Tom’s taken everything from you - your heart, your sanity - even the very clothes from your back. What more could he possibly want to take?

“There.” You shove it into his hands and angrily pull on your coat. The sleeves are cold and damp against your skin, making you shiver. “Happy now?”

Tom looks down at the jumper. “No,” he says, voice soft. His eyes are round again, widening further as you reach for the front door. “Y/N, please.”

Your fingers linger on the doorknob, cold to touch. You hesitate. When you glance back at Tom, your resolve crumbles. As frustrated and bemused as you are, you love him. You love him, and he’s your best friend, and you’re leaving him.

“Tom,” you whimper. You step away from the door, dodging the box, and fold into his arms, crying with your face on his shoulder. Tom’s arms wrap around your back and he pulls you in tightly. “I’m sorry.” You aren’t sure what you’re apologising for - your departure, your broken heart, your tears staining his shirt. You just know you are so overcome with every emotion that it’s overflowing now, leaving your mouth in ugly sobs.

“Shh.” Tom rolls a hand over your back, patting in large circles. Your jacket crinkles at the action, and you think you can feel his chest shake. “It’s okay.”

You stay in his arms, your face buried in his neck until you stop crying. Even then, you feel clogged up and weakened. He’s so warm - his embrace strong, and comfortable. You feel protected, and when you step back, you feel your heart break again.

“I’m sorry, Tom.” You wipe at your eyes and pick up the red box. Tom’s face falls in response. “I just… I need time. I’m not- I’m not saying that we can never be together, I just… I can’t stay just now. It’s too fresh, I don’t...”

“It’s okay.” Tom steps forward. One of his hands goes to the doorknob, the other rests on your shoulder. He’s near to you - so near that you can see the flecks of pain in his eyes and the freckles on his face. His gaze flickers down to your lips. “I can wait.”

You lean in and kiss him, softly. His lips taste of salty peppermint.

“I… I’ll see you later.” You want to say it, want to tell him so desperately that you love him, but the words choke in the back of your throat.

Tom just smiles, the action not stretching to his eyes. He tilts his head towards the door. “Are you ready?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

Tom looks at the box in your hands and reaches up. He tugs up the hood of your jacket and tucks your hair into it carefully. “Safe flight, darling.”

“Thank you.”

He opens the door and steps aside, and then you’re on your own.

London Heathrow Terminal 5 is very empty. You’re sitting alone in the back corner of the waiting room, hood drawn around your face, sunglasses resting heavily over your nose. You haven’t been able to stop shaking since you left Tom’s house. Feeling numb through bag drop, security, and duty-free, it’s a miracle you’ve made it to your gate on time.

You close your eyes, and you see him. You open your eyes, and you expect to see him. He’s everywhere.

Is this what you really want..?

It plays on loop, lilted in his voice. Is this what you really want? To be sat alone, crying in Heathrow airport, when Tom is waiting back at home, finally willing to take you into his arms?

You sniff as you wipe at your eyes, furiously trying to stem the flow of tears. It had all happened so quickly; it felt almost unfair.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you’re grateful for the distraction.

Tom <3: Have a safe flight. I’m sorry for being such a dick. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I love you. I love you and I’ll wait for you. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to figure it out. I love you. Xxxxxxxxxx

You put the phone down, sucking in a deep breath. Your eyes fall to your feet. You notice, for the first time, that you’re wearing your special personalised Converse.

With shaking hands, you pull off your sunglasses and stare at your feet. The ink has run a little, obscured by the pouring London rain, but you can still make out some of the shapes Tom had drawn over them, all those weeks ago. A love heart, a flower, a couple holding hands. The lump in your throat grows bigger.

Is this what you really want..?

“Now boarding, Flight BA0269, London Heathrow to LAX. We now invite our platinum club to board.”

You sigh. You stand up and pull your backpack over your shoulders. You look back at your feet.

The love heart is wobbly and uneven, and you remember the look of concentration on Tom’s face as he’d tried his best to doodle over your shoes. The room had been so warm, back then. Just the two of you, together, finding comfort in one another’s company. It’d been simple, and you can remember looking up at him and feeling warmth for him in your heart.

Is this what you really want..?

No.

Your relationship has felt like a series of rash decisions lately, and you aren’t about to make the final, irreversible choice of leaving London. You can’t leave - not now, with the path finally clear. You can’t leave Tom, who’s finally told you how he feels. He’s messy, and complicated, and being around him makes you feel like your heart is on fire, but you love him. You love him, and maybe he’s right - maybe love is enough.

You know that you have come too far to throw it all away without giving him a chance.

You’ve never been a fan of bold, romantic gestures, but as they call your gate again, you turn off your phone and you turn around. You turn around, and you run. You run back to him.

↠ next part

#sob #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland #tom holland series #crying on main time #y/n #y/n use #self insert #self-insert #tfg #ahhhhHHHHH screaming truly #what am i gonna do with my fridays when im finished with this series!!#:((( anyways #please let me know what you're thinking :)))#almost didn't include the final scene in this part but :)) i thought it deserved to make the final cut

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travllingbunny · 3 years

Text

Thank you for the tag, @ryder616!

This tag game has unexpectedly led to an interesting discussion about what exactly an “Endgame Ship” means... which seems to be largely open to interpretation. I’m still not sure how I see that term, but for the purposes of this post, but to narrow it down and not mention way too many ships, I’ll take Endgame in two different meanings: for “Favorite Ship(s) That’s Endgame”, I’ll take it to mean pairings that were together and in a happy relationship at the end of the story. But for “Ship(s) You Wish Had Been Endgame”, I will take “Not Endgame” to mean that the ship was not treated as these characters’ main romance at the end of the show, or at least there was a lot of ambiguity and/or a rival ship for one or both characters was instead the current one at the end of the story. (A lot of my favorite ships have the tendency to end up unhappily in spite of being portrayed as the main romance of the story..)

Warning: this post contains spoilers for Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Agents of SHIELD, The Hunger Games, The Leftovers, The Americans and The 100 (though if you’ve spent any time on my blog, you’ve certainly already been spoiled for the ending of The 100) and .

1. First Ship - When I was about 4 or 5, I was obsessed with Lady and the Tramp (I had a book version with a few pictures and it fell apart from how much I was reading it - it may have been my first book that wasn’t mostly a picture book), so I guess my first ship was two dogs (which is really appropriate, since I love dogs). If we’re talking TV, again going back to my childhood, before puberty and before I even knew what “shipping” was, I remember being pleasantly surprised when Raquel first appeared on Only Fools and Horses as a love interest for Del Boy - the show was an episodic comedy where the two brothers, in the early years, usually didn’t have a serious love interest. I thought “oh, he really is in love with her! And she feels the same, and they are so cute together.” I hoped she’d come back and wouldn’t just be a one episode character but a long-term LI. And then I was so happy when that very much did happen. I guess this can be considered the start of my TV shipping (and also an early sign of my love for contuinity and longer arcs on TV).

2. First OTP - Ignoring pre-puberty: at the age of 12, I was really obsessed with Wuthering Heights and Heathcliff and Cathy and read the book who knows how mny times. Regarding TV, I’ve shipped over the years, but I guess the first TV ship I would really call my OTP was in This Life, a 1990s UK drama about a bunch of 20-somethings in London, which I watched on TV in 2001. which now sadly seems almost forgotten. Anna and Miles had an on-off, love-hate relationship throughout - they were sexy, snarky, and it was painfully obvious that they were in love, but these idiots had trouble admitting it to themselves and even more to each other. If it had been a romcom, they would’ve been certain to end up together, but it was a realistic drama.

3. Current Favorite Ship - Bellarke - oh, what an OTP of all OTPs that was before it was stupidly destroyed out of spite. Over the last couple of years, Dark (season 3 mostly) made me really love Jonas and Martha (the first pairing I’ve made gifsets about), and most recently (last month!), I binged Halt and Catch Fire and fell in love with the show and with Joe and Cameron’s relationship (which, I just realized now, shows that my taste in OTPs hasn’t changed in 20 years).

If we’re talking current as in, in current shows rather than finished ones, then Kanej (Shadow and Bone), Harlivy (Harley Quinn), Gereon and Charlotte (Babylon Berlin) and Roy and Keeley (Ted Lasso).

4. Your ship since the first minute - I really rarely ship anything from the first minute (unless we’re talking Morticia and Gomez, who are of course already a perfect couple and nothing ever changes there). It usually takes time for me to fall for a ship. A rare exception is Roy and Keeley - their first one-on-one scene in S1 already had huge OTP vibes.

5. Ship(s) You Wish Had Been Endgame - Do I even have to say it? BELLARKE. A hundred times Bellarke, who were portrayed as endgame before the showrunner decided to retcon and ruin them together with the show overall.

Others: Jessica and Luke in Netfix Narvel shows, May and Andrew on AoS, Willow and Oz; or, depending on how you interpret Endgame, Willow/Tara (some argue that it is Endgame as Tara is definitely portrayed as the love of Willow’s life regardless of everything else). Spuffy (again, there are different opinions as to its status as both the show and the comics ended ambiguously and tried not to have a clear Endgame pairing for Buffy’s character), Xander/Anya (if you take comics into account).

6. Ship You Wish Was Canon - Some would say Bellarke, again, but I tend to consider it canon. It’s debatable, for sure (if you only consider making out/sex and/or “I love you” as markers of canon, it is not canon; if it is enough for the show to make it so blatant in the first 6 seasons that you have to actively search for ways to deny it to make it sound platonic, and for actors to confirm it was portrayed as romantic- than it is.)

So my answer would be: Kastle (Netflix Marvel shows), QuakeRider (AoS), and Octavia and Diyoza (The 100) and maybe Faith and Buffy (mostly in the sense that canon could have explored the nature of Faith’s feelings for Buffy a bit more and a bit more openly).

7. Ship that Most of the Fandom Hates, but You Love - Angel and Darla, May and Andrew, Coulson and Rosalind (hated how it ended though). Miller and Bryan (because they were more interesting than Mackson, and Bryan had a personality), Though “ships that most of the fandom ignores” would be a more apt term. The one that most of the fandom does hate and I like it is Octavia/Ilian - I liked it for what it was, two damaged people finding comfort together in what could have grown into something more - instead of the “we’re ve just met and talked to each other once and we’re already IN LOVE!” trope that the writers of The 100 were so fond of.

8. You Don’t Even Watch the Show, but You Ship It - Why would I ship something from a show I don’t watch?

9. Ship That You Wish Had A Different Storyline - BELLARKE (duh - the ending). Veronica and Logan (the ending, again). Coulson/Rosalind - they had such an interesting and fun dynamic that could have been explored much more; instead, the writers opted for one of the worst tropes there are, and I hated that entire plotline for so many reasons. Tyrol and Boomer on Battlestar Galactica - what they did with Boomer was crap. Baltar and Caprica - all the bad writing in season 4. This is a weird example of a ship that I shipped so hard for 3 seasons and that was given Endgame in every sense of the word, but, by that point, I barely cared anymore, because the writers forgot about their relationship throughout the final season and made it seem like they didn’t even remember each other, and then slapped a last minute happy ending. Plus they retconed/explained their connection in such a stupid and anticlimactic way that ruined it retroactively.

10. Favorite Ship(s) That’s Endgame - Everlark, Nora and Kevin (The Leftovers), Philip and Elizabeth (The Americans), and Josh and Della on Night and Day (a really obscure early 2000s UK show that was watched by maybe 100 people.) Some others worth mentioning: FitzSimmons, Niles and Daphne, Tim and Dawn (original UK The Office), Jake and Amy, Memori (the only bright spot in a rubbish ending). And of course, there’s Morticia and Gomez, though they are less Endgame and more AlwaysGame.

Tagging: @jeanie205 @kizo2703 @poppykru @sheigarche @weareagentsofnothing @sometimesrosy @misskittyspuffy @otp-armada @carrieeve @sexy-zeitreise-detektiv @jonaskanwalds @immortalpramheda @ladyofthefrostfangs @tennyo-elf @fandomkru @natassakar @hadrianvonpaulus @sillier-things @angearia @thekawaiislartibartfast @foolishnymeria @erikiara80 @heartbellamy and anyone else who sees this - sorry I didn’t tag you and please consider yourself tagged. :)

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illfoandillfie · 3 years

Note

Maybe a ben POV one? where bens off on a movie shoot and misses you and wants to fly you out to him but he’s worried it’s too much of a “romantic gesture” like in movies so he doesn’t want to weird you out but then on the phone you say how much you miss him too so he gathers the nerve to ask you and you’re like duh ofc I’ll come you dork (im envisioning this still kinda early in the qpr maybe right after platonically or smth)

Thank you so much babe!!

This is the second of the blurbs for my Platonically themed event! This one follows directly on from the one I posted yesterday so maybe read it first.

Words: 1,759

Warnings: just two idiots being dummies. Minor references to sex and probably some swearing but that's about it.

Reflecting on the situation, Ben had come to the conclusion that it was the perfect time to be in Greece. The run of beautiful weather they’d had over the course of the last month must have set some sort of record, he thought. Every day was blue skies, white fluffy clouds, and the sort of heat that was comfortable and not overly sticky. It made working a dream, especially when half the film seemed to take place on the beach. The sand was warm under his feet and the water clear and cool. They didn’t have much down time since the studio was pushing for it to be finished ASAP so they could release it at the optimal time, but the few days off they did get, Ben spent either fishing with some of the crew or else exploring the picturesque town they were in. There was just one downside. You weren’t with him.

Whenever the thought crossed his mind, whenever he really started to miss you, he’d remind himself that he loved his job, loved that it took him to exciting and beautiful places. And then he’d send you a quick message to check how everything was back home. He called too, mostly in the evenings after he got back to his hotel room. But the deeper into the project he got the more night shoots there were and the later he got back to his room. What brief conversations you had were good but not quite the same as if you’d been there with him. Of course, he’d try to remind himself that it wasn’t like he’d never been away from you before. But those times had all been before you got together, and the changed nature of the relationship made him feel your absence more. He never said that to you though. Mostly, when you could talk, Ben would ask how you were and talk about the exciting things he saw. He’d tell you about the beaches or the trinket shops and say how much you’d like them but he’d never tell you exactly how badly he wished you were with him. He didn’t want you to take it the wrong way and he didn’t trust himself to explain it properly. Whenever he tried to verbalise it (quietly, to his reflection or the dark hotel room he was staying in) he worried it came out too...well, romantic.

The truth was, he’d always been attached to you, since very early on in your relationship. You just got him. His sense of humour and his personality and the way he thought. It took him no time at all to start referring to you as one of his best friends and it was a title you’d held for years. But then he’d realised the way he liked you wasn’t strictly platonic, and it made him feel weird around you. More uncertain than he was used to. He found it hard to describe the relief he’d felt when you agreed to think about his QPR idea or how, when you’d accepted, it had alleviated the uncertainty and doubts that had been plaguing him. To you it would probably sound sappy and sentimental and tat all what you wanted to hear from him. Of course the QPR was really just an extension of your friendship. More or less the same, just a few new ways to show affection like kissing and getting you off (both things Ben greatly enjoyed), and a few new words that made it specific to the two of you. And maybe a new future too, depending on how things went. But again, while he might think those sorts of thoughts, he wouldn’t know how to begin saying any of them to you. Because he was starting to really want that future with you, and saying so might make it impossible to get there.

So Ben allowed himself to miss you quietly. Occasionally an idea of inviting you to join him would pop into his head. But he always let the thought go as quickly as it came. The weeks ticked by like that. Texting when you could between scenes and less and less frequent calls at night, which left Ben’s head swimming with lots of unsaid things. Progress was made on the movie too, most of the beach scenes wrapped and everyone moving to other parts of the script. Until everything came to a screeching halt. Ben wasn’t entirely sure what the problem was – something to do with scheduling conflicts or maybe special equipment that hadn’t arrived on time. All he was told was that things would be back up and running soon but it might take an extra few weeks to complete the project. He didn’t mind so much, it gave him a bit of extra free time after all, but it also meant he wouldn’t get to see you again for a while.

The possibility of flying you out to Greece to join him had been rattling around his brain since his third week on set. You could spend a couple of weeks, maybe a month, together. He could take you to that restaurant he’d sent you photos of and show you the handmade stationery shop he’d stumbled across that he knew you’d have fun exploring. And then there was the rest of the town, thin streets to get lost in together and beautiful views to look out over. Maybe you’d like to walk along the beach with him and collect seashells or rent a little dingy to take out on the waves. Once or twice he’d come close to actually asking you to join him but he always talked himself out of it, sure it would be crossing a line for you. Missing you was one thing but offering to buy you a plane ticket and whisk you off on a getaway to a gorgeous Greek island was surely too romantic. But the news of the delay made him consider it again.

That night he called you, smiling as soon as he heard your voice. At first the call was like any other. He listened to you talk about what had been going on since he last had a chance to call, getting caught up on your mutual friends and your work and whatever else came to mind. “But what about you?” you finally said, “You must be pretty busy since I haven’t had a call from you in a little while.” “Well I was busy except not so much right now,” “Oh?” “There’s some sort of delay, I don’t the details. But it looks like I’ll be here for another few weeks at least.” “Oh.” Ben was a little surprised by how disappointed you sounded. “I really miss you,” “I miss you too,” his voice got softer as he said it, “a lot.” “I really wish I could see you,” “Well,” he said sheepishly, hoping he wasn’t reading things wrong, “how would you feel about coming out here then? I can get you a plane ticket if you want.” “No shit! You can do that? You won’t like, get in trouble or anything?” Ben laughed, not quite understanding, “What are you talking about?” “I don’t know man, I’m not an actor. I just figured it’d be like a partner free zone. Like they wouldn’t want you getting distracted or whatever.” “You fucking dork,” his laughter threatened to obscure the words but he managed to make himself heard, “That’s not how it is at all. You being here wouldn’t be a problem, as long as I’m on set when they need me. Plus it looks like we’re about to have a whole lot of downtime anyway. So does that mean you wanna come?” “Ummm let me think abo- of course Ben!” “Well if I’d known you’d react like this I would have asked sooner,” The laughter had faded, leaving a grin on his face, though the embarrassment at his hesitancy was creeping up too. “Wish you had’ve. Why didn’t you?” “I just didn’t want you to take it the wrong way,” “And what way would that be?” “A romantic way? I don’t know! It’s just the sort of thing that’d happen in a romantic movie or whatever and I didn’t want to come across like that. It’s Greece man, it’s kind of a romantic place. Maybe not like Paris but it’s up there. Don’t laugh,” he groaned, “I’m just saying, white sands and clear seas and lots of pretty flowers in bloom, it’s definitely got romantic vibes.” “It didn’t even cross my mind that it might be that sort of thing. No offence to Greece, I’m sure it’s lovely.” Ben let himself chuckle at his idiocy, “I guess cause I’ve like, y’know, got feelings for you or whatever I saw the romantic side and assumed you would too. Feel silly for not just asking you but I’m glad we have that sorted now.” “I think it’s sweet, Ben. I love that you were conscious of how it might be perceived and I understand you didn’t want to hurt me. But yeah, dude, please get me that ticket, I miss you a stupid amount.” “Alright, I’m on it. When do you want to leave?”

Two days later and Ben was content, sitting and staring out at the waves on a quiet beach as you rubbed sunscreen into his back. He’d greeted you at the airport, feeling ridiculously excited to see you, squeezing you in a tight hug (which you later suggested had cracked one of your ribs). “Okay, all done, now let me do your front,” you shuffled around Ben on your knees, throwing a leg over his lap as he leaned back on his palms. “You’re such a perv,” Ben chuckled, subtly adjusting his posture to push his chest further towards you, “I bet you only suggested sunscreen so you could feel my boobs.” “Oh you caught me,” you squirted some more of the cream directly onto his chest, beginning to rub it in, “Definitely nothing to do with sun safety.” “No I get it, you don’t need to lie to me. You missed my pecks. It’s totally natural. But let me know when you’re done so I can show you the same courtesy.” "Think we might save that till we get back to the hotel, Benny,” Ben laughed at your exasperated expression, raising one arm to pull you toward him for a kiss, barely noticing the cool of the cream still on your palm as you cupped his cheek and kissed him back.

#my writing #my blurbs #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #platonically event #(lowkey have a headache rn so i hope this is alright kdjskdjsdk #i really tried to play up the ~not so good at communicating while separated~ thing #as well as a bffs sharing a braincell thing lmao)#(also please let me know if the formatting on this fuks up #i copied it from a word doc and idk if it's going to cooperate lmao)

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