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1kook · 3 years

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crunchyroll & rail

the 10th installment of my netflix & chill series !

SUMMARY Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. WARNINGS smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… MISC fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality, RATING m (18+) WC 8.7k

NOTE (!) the smut in this chapter is relatively short ! I was more concerned with writing this monumental step in their relationship, so sorry to all the lads who come here specifically for the p0rn but today we focus on the l0ve <333 anyway nc 10!!!!! Can u fuckin believe….

Jungkook mentions it at the dinner table one night. You’re not eating— well, you are not eating; Jungkook has been stocking up on his protein intake like a madman —but finishing up some work you had brought home. Your back aches, your eyes burn. The mere sound of his soft voice has all those feel-good endorphins shooting through your nervous system like a shot of adrenaline. “We should take a trip,” he says, fork clattering against his plate to signify the end of his feast.

Your fingers tap across your keyboard, eyes flickering between an Excel sheet and the report you’re typing out. It takes you a moment to respond, a delayed, “huh,” that even Jungkook doesn’t find convincing.

In the background, you’re listening to what has to be one of the worst voiceovers of the original Sailor Moon series in a language you don’t even understand. But you know the series like the back of your hand, know what exactly is happening even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, because you’ve watched it only about a million times. It’s mostly just there for background purposes anyway, some white noise to try and replicate the noisy soundtrack of your office.

To make matters worse—complicated?—, you had been too lazy to get onto your usual pirating sites and had settled for the five minute, five part, 240p clips of Sailor Moon on YouTube (you know the ones), and Jungkook has to wait until Episode 74: Part ⅖ ends before you grace him with a proper response. “Where do you wanna go, baby?” you ask, giving your eyes a break from the data as you move to scour YouTube for Episode 74: Part 3/5.

He’s stretching back now, arms wound up above his head. His hair— god, his hair —is an ashy color now, a faded version of its golden ancestor from a few months ago. Soon, he’s planning on going back to brown, claims he’s getting too old to be dying his hair, whatever that means. For now, you watch his inked fingers run through his scalp; he looks delectable. Maybe you’re hungrier than you initially thought. Or at least thirstier. “A cabin,” he suggests, and he offers this little half shrug that would otherwise seem normal had you not been well-versed in the art of Jungkook Body Language. His front teeth nibble at his lip, eyes laser focused on his empty plate. Even now, he still gets nervous asking you out. That thought alone makes your ego soar as high as an airplane. “Just something small.”

Usually, “something small” with Jungkook ends up being something big and, in most cases, something expensive. Which you’re totally not opposed to— you’re at the point in your relationship where you don’t even bother trying to dissuade Jungkook from showering you with gifts. It’s one of his many, many, many, many forms of loving you and, well, he knows you like the back of his hand. He rarely misses.

Lo and behold, it is a grander affair than a simple cabin. “Well, it’s more like a resort,” he confesses, reaching across the table for your hand. Immediately, his thumb finds itself rubbing over the simple band of your promise ring. “Just wanna do something nice for you. I know you’ve been tired lately,” he adds on, voice a quiet murmur that nearly gets lost under the intensity of the pout that appears whenever he becomes even the slightest bit bashful.

You smile, the fondness in your heart skyrocketing to impossible heights when he lifts your hand to press those pretty petal lips against your knuckles. “Well, just let me know when,” you tell Jungkook. “So I can request time off from work.”

Episode 74: Part 3/5 starts playing after an ad, and you’d pause it for the sake of preserving this moment with Jungkook, but it’s hidden under so many tabs on your laptop that you lose it the second you leave the tab. Jungkook’s head tilts to the side, sending his ashy locks cascading beautifully. “You know that show is on Crunchyroll,” Jungkook says, seemingly moving past his bout of shyness now. “And you have the password.”

“Do I,” you murmur, but he’s lost you once more, your true talent of typing with one hand showing itself as you return to your Excel sheet, the other still firmly squeezed in his grasp. Jungkook releases soon enough anyway, cleans up the table quickly, and disappears off into the kitchen. He sings when he washes the dishes, likes to pretend he’s a terrible singer even though you’ve told him countless times he could easily take X Factor by storm. (And you know exactly what it takes to wow those judges— you spent the entire last month psychotically watching multiple X Factor seasons from multiple different countries, nearly considered joining the damn audition yourself.) The horribly dubbed Sailor Moon is yelling now, shrieking really, and Jungkook calls from the kitchen, “don’t forget to take your contacts out, sweetheart.”

It’s domestic and it's nerve-wracking.

You want Jungkook, that much is a fact. Aristotle and Socrates and that other guy could debate the philosophical intricacies of the world, turn this dimension in on itself until it was a scrambled mess of emotion and thought, but the one thing they could never change, could never even question, is your love for your boyfriend. You want Jungkook badly, but more importantly, you want Jungkook forever.

And you’re sure Jungkook probably, maybe, hopefully feels that way too. But the way you feel is… slightly concerning to say the least. For starters, you’re convinced your love for Jungkook was meant to be, and that’s saying a lot coming from you. You’re not one for cheesy, soulmate tales— that was more Jungkook’s thing —but the more you think about it, the more you become convinced that you and Jungkook were destined to meet. Like the planets aligned one year, the stars conferred, a tectonic plate somewhere in California shifted; whatever it may have been, something happened somewhere that led to the birth of this beautiful romance of yours.

Lately, being with Jungkook has this inexplicably fiery feeling blossoming in your chest, these waves of emotion that sometimes have you fantasizing about the weirdest of scenarios with him. Like yelling at him for not taking the garbage out on time, or bumping into each other as you make dinner in the kitchen, or buying a new rug together.

(Most drastically, the other day, you had a dream where you were pregnant and Jungkook was there and there was a house and a dog and an annoyingly friendly neighbor and this god-awful tile in the bathroom.)

Long story short, you’ve been fantasizing about a forever with Jungkook. The concerning part is the timing; was this too early? You’re nearly halfway through your second year with Jungkook now, and you know most people date for many, many years before the mere thought of union even occurs to them. In another life, maybe you were the same, would have held off until the very last moment. But with Jungkook things just feel right (at least for you), like there wasn’t going to be anyone else after him. And you sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be.

You slump back into your seat, eyes fluttering shut. Too many thoughts swirl around your mind, and the screech of the Sailor Moon voiceover on screen certainly doesn’t help. How you managed to spiral that far down your thoughts in the span of one 240p, five minute clip of a larger episode amazes even you. To add onto your worries, the clip abruptly ends and Episode 74: Part ⅘ is nowhere in sight, a fact that draws a frustrated moan out of the already sensitive you.

Luckily, Jungkook eventually returns, standing closely behind you. His presence is enormous, the room suddenly overflowing with a shit ton of those feel-good endorphins all over again, except this time they reach an all-time high when he leans over and quietly shuts your laptop. “Come sleep,” he says softly, and it’s a pleasant mixture of his genuinely caring voice and that horndog purr of his that lures you into bed. And it’s that same voice that croons softly into your ear, fingers nestled between your folds until you’re orgasming yourself into a deep slumber.

Much to no one’s surprise, the cabin turns out to be quite the luxurious lodging; two floors of dark oak everywhere you turn, a stunning stone fireplace in the bedroom, and a truly breathtaking view of the resort’s snowy hill (read: front row seats to watch all the snowboarders and skiers wipe out in the snow). Jungkook had splurged quite the pretty penny on it, so you make a point to clap it up for him when he first opens the door to your temporary home for the weekend.

The main bedroom is beyond words. It’s got an attached balcony (that you doubt you’ll be using in this chilly weather), and a wooden canopy bed that makes you feel like a royal (that you will certainly be using). It’s separated into two areas, the bed space and a tiny entertainment area on the other side of the room. Perhaps the best thing about the room— and the cabin itself —is the huge, smart TV mounted above said stone fireplace and the fact it allows the phone mirroring option in lieu of not having any streaming sites. And as is with every and anything to do with televisions, Jungkook is the most excited of the two of you. “Baby, look,” he beams, pointing excitedly at whatever he’s got mirrored onto the television this time. Knowing him, it’s probably another documentary.

You had the forethought to finish your work before the trip, spent two days in the office going absolutely ham on this month’s final reports until your department head promptly sent you home to finish the rest there. You had given yourself a fright upon entering the bathroom that night, the state of your under eyes so severe, you feared it was sufficient cause for a national emergency. Similarly, Jungkook had done the same with his work, cooped himself up in his study until he was free from the shackles of capitalism for the weekend. All this to say you’ve missed him these past few days.

But even though you’re sorely malnourished in the affection department and craving a good kiss or two, you wouldn’t dare interrupt one of Jungkook’s little nerdy, tech-induced fanboy moments. They’re cute, in their own geeky way, providing some insight to a mellower side of your boyfriend who looks on with childlike wonder; Jungkook’s eyes always get so big when he talks about nerdy stuff. You get to work hanging up the silk shirt he packed for tomorrow night’s fancy dinner at the resort, listening to some British narrator’s detailed description of the functionally extinct Northern white rhinos living under 24-hour surveillance in Kenya.

(Jungkook’s really into nature documentaries again, had spent a few nights sniffling as he watched that one Koko the gorilla film.)

The original plan was to head to the nearest store and whip up something small to eat at the cabin. But Jungkook is a little tired from the long drive, slumps down into the couch in front of the now lit fireplace like a limbless blob as he tunes into his documentary. His nose is a little red from the outside chill. It’s so cute. He’s so cute. You love him so much, you fear you’ll accidentally squeeze his cheeks to death. It’s a thought that occurs more times than you’d like.

According to the pamphlet on the nightstand, the resort has its own room-service to order from. Normally you would do that, but not this time; you had gotten into a bit of a squabble with the man at the front desk after he had tried to withhold Jungkook’s reservation for arriving two minutes past your check-in time, called each other all sorts of names before he backed down and gave you your room key. So you’re still a little salty, to say the least. Instead, you settle in for some pizza in front of the huge TV, calling up the nearest place to order some of Jungkook’s and your favorites.

You plop down beside him, instinctively cuddling closer when he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “So,” you start, flipping through the rest of the resort’s introductory pamphlet. There’s a loud roar on screen. In all honesty, you didn’t even know what Northern white rhinos sounded like until then, and you probably never would have if not for the man beside you. “What are you in the mood for tonight, sweet boy?”

You’re not sure if it’s the fatigue or the overall relaxed vibes he’d been exuding since the moment you entered the cabin, but Jungkook is weirdly cooperative today. “Whatever you want,” he responds, head on your shoulder. He even places the remote in your hands, gives your enclosed fist a gentle tap as if he’s just handed you the secret to eternal youth. In other words, it’s a rare sight to behold. “This is your trip, pretty girl.”

You appreciate the sentiment, but feel the need to clear the air, tucking your feet up onto the couch as you snuggle closer. “Our trip,” you clarify, and snatch the remote anyway before he changes his mind.

Jungkook releases a quiet huff of laughter, head rolling back against the couch cushions to display his thick, juicy neck that definitely doesn’t awaken any vampiric tendencies in you. “We can even watch some anime if you want,” he murmurs, casually throwing an arm around your shoulders in a way that would have made any teenage girl in the early 2000s squeal with excitement. It’s one of those barely there touches, but the way he holds you makes you feel so safe and warm and loved. So loved and in love. “The ones on Crunchyroll, though.”

For the sake of preserving these good vibes (and your ears [and Jungkook’s sanity]), you navigate to the Crunchyroll app on your phone, quickly finding your latest obsession and mirroring it onto the big television before Jungkook can react. “Sailor Moon?” he asks with a tone that implies a feigned interest, mostly out of respect for you; he’s, sadly, still not the big dorky anime fan you had hoped to convert him into.

“In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you,” you recite dutifully, snatching up the throw blanket on the end of the couch. It’s barely big enough to cover the both of you, has Jungkook’s outstretched legs and your booty subject to the chilly air. Who cares, Jungkook is a furnace anyway.

He snorts. “Punish me,” he mumbles, as if he doesn’t believe it. His snarky comment wins him a playful pinch against his doughy cheek, not that he particularly defends himself against it anyway, eyes fluttering shut as you tug at the pale skin.

“Don’t fuck with the moon, Jungkook,” you warn him, snuggling closely against his side as your favorite opening song begins filtering through the speakers of the television before you. It’s infinitely better than the 240p YouTube clips you had subjected yourself to the entire last week, the graphics scarily clear.

“Right, of course,” Jungkook says, but a hint of amusement seems to curl around the sound anyway. Nevertheless, he lets it go, cuddles into your side as you pour your full focus into watching yet another group of ragtag teenagers with supernatural abilities kick some ass.

You can tell Jungkook isn’t really into it, and you’re torn between just snuggling him into a well deserved nap or taping his eyelids open so he can become a fan of this show with you.

The loving, caring, adoring side of you says Jungkook deserves the entire world and more (the more in question preferably being a fluffy blanket and a nap). He worked hard this week, just like you, and on top of that he was the one who planned this entire weekend getaway for the two of you to enjoy. You want him to rest up.

The obnoxiously in love girlfriend-slash-best friend in you says Jungkook is sorely missing out on one of the greatest shows on planet Earth and that naps are for the weak.

Your jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a loud sound on the television, a yelp from Ms. Sailor Moon herself that has you jolting up in surprise. Jungkook welcomes you deeper into his embrace, chuckles at your little fright. “Scared?” he teases in that low voice that makes you feel like you’re going crazy, really. So crazy and irrational, and the only thing that stops you from bombarding him with an unexpected outpouring of love is that hard and sharp thing that pokes your side when you get too close to him. It’s not Jungkook, sadly, but something in the front pocket of his hoodie instead.

And for some reason, part of your brain is stuck all of a sudden, rewinding the last two and a half years like a broken cassette tape that had the tape reel hastily stuffed back inside by a toddler. It’s choppy to say the least, and it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook calls your name softly, tenderly. “__,” he murmurs. It’s a little weird; it’s not often he says your name, mostly referring to you with one of the many pet names from that part of his vocabulary that focuses exclusively on terms of endearment. Your heart skips a beat.

Now, if anyone were to ask, it’s approximately around this time that you begin to spiral. The pink curve of his bottom lip is just too close, the mole on his nose too prominent. Paired with the obnoxious tittering of Usagi on screen, you can feel your thoughts begin to overlap, bumping into each other within the realm of your brain until all that comes out are the messiest of messy thoughts.

They go like this:

Most episodes of any anime run for approximately thirty minutes. Take out the commercial breaks, the opening and ending credits, and it becomes something closer to twenty. Twenty minutes per episode, filled with plot and gags and tears and whatever else necessary to make you feel something, anything really.

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask tentatively.

In contrast, it takes approximately two seconds for Jungkook’s lips to quirk up— first the right side, always the right side —and his eyes to crinkle. Two seconds for him to smile, a sweet expression that reminds you of Netflix and college and quiet laughter and tattoos and silly YouTube videos and cookies and cell phones and job applications and blond hair; two seconds to make you feel everything all at once.

“There’s nothing,” he says, but his cheeks are pink, and it’s not from the cold anymore. His smile is so big it makes your own cheeks ache just looking at it. You can’t even hear the television anymore. Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. “It was supposed to be for tomorrow,” he admits, unwrapping his arm from around you.

It’s a little funny, somehow, because his hands are covered in ink, in tiny doodles and intricate pieces of swirls and words that ooze this aura of strength and toughness. But they tremble when he opens it, as unsteady as a wispy dandelion on a windy day, fumbling with the box. And when you look closely, he’s been biting at the skin along his thumb again, that nervous habit you’ve been trying forever to help him overcome.

Someone is saying something on screen, something important to the plot. The volume is loud, but not as loud as your heart. Not as loud as Jungkook’s quiet murmur when he speaks again. “Will you marry me?” he asks softly, looks at you with flushed cheeks and big eyes and his heart on his sleeve.

The answer has always been the same, hasn’t changed since the first time he planted the seed in your mind. Still, it catches in your throat, nearly loses out to a surprised and emotional sob that you barely manage to bite down. You had just been speaking, had just been ready to deliver a whole spiel on the importance of him watching Sailor Moon with you. But when you try now, it’s raspy and dry, as if you haven’t used your voice in years. “I— yes,” you exhale, surprised by the lonely tear that trails down your cheek. You go to wipe it away, but Jungkook beats you with a gentle hand cupping your cheek.

His smile is wobbly, patches of red blossoming across his face that eventually consume his entire appearance as he leans his forehead against yours. Only then do you realize he’s crying, and you laugh out of reflex. “You’re crying,” you say, and Jungkook snorts.

“You cried first,” he sniffles, smiling. “You made me cry.”

He looks like a wreck, but, like, a hot wreck. An engaged, hot wreck who’s eyes flicker back to the TV to remind you to pause your anime, always so considerate. You do, hastily smashing buttons on the remote before remembering it’s controlled by your phone, hands flying back and forth as your nerves actively work to retire themselves after Jungkook’s proposal. “Easy there,” he soothes, eventually catching your hand in his, drawing it up for a kiss against your knuckles.

The ring fits perfectly, snuggly. Vaguely, a memory drifts through your thoughts of Jungkook and Doyeon on a rampant mission to reorganize your jewelry box a few months ago, but it disappears as quickly as it came. You’re taken by the ring, a simple band with a pretty diamond on top. It’s a good mixture of you and him; flashy yet mild.

“You love me,” you marvel, a revelation you’ve had the honor of experiencing time and time again with Jungkook. Still, it never fails to render you speechless. He hums.

“I do,” he says, taking your hand in his. “It’s the easiest thing for me. Like breathing, or existing. I think I was made to love you.” And normally, you’d be the first one to correct him. Jungkook was made for so much more, a fact he’s proven time and time again with his abilities and the sheer size of his heart. He was your golden boy, could do anything he set his mind to. Always amazing you, always making you fall in love all over again.

But now, with the weight of his words sitting heavy in the air, you find yourself incapable of negating the fact, instead sniffling at the meaning.

Pleased with your silence, Jungkook places another chaste kiss against your ring. “I love you, __,” he confesses, voice nearly a whisper. Your entire body feels as if it is doused in gasoline, lit aflame over and over again. Your heart threatens your rib cage, pounds away with the strength of a world renowned boxer. Jungkook’s hands curl around your wrists carefully. “I used to think we were like the moon and the sun,” he admits, “that you were my sun and I was your moon. In love but always separated by those thin veils of the sunrise and the sunset.” He pauses, nuzzling sweetly against your palm once more before gently guiding them down between the two of you. “But that really sucks— saying goodbye to you every night? I hate that, __. I hate watching you leave, I hate watching you run off in the mornings or halfway through the day, having to drive back and forth from your place to mine. I hate having to be away from you when all I wanna do is hold you. I— I want to be by your side,” he rambles, eyes nervously meeting yours. They’re still glassy, dark lashes framing his chocolate irises wonderfully. “Forever.”

Your heartbeat stutters, the simple word looping itself in your mind like that night in his dining room all over again, all the fantasies of having a forever with Jungkook bubbling to the surface. Jungkook pushes on. “You are my sun,” he says softly, mostly to himself. “But… I don’t wanna be the moon anymore. Being the moon means, eventually, I’ll have to say goodbye. In the night or in the morning, it always comes to an end. And I don't want there to be an end with you,” he insists, clutching your hand tightly. “I wanna be another star, the closest one to you. The one who gets to be with you forever. I wanna be by you and shine with you and—“

“Explode into a gazillion little fragments of cosmic dust with me,” you offer, and Jungkook nods along eagerly, too amped up on his speech to bother scolding you for your playful comment.

“Yes, I want to— to—“ The words catch in his throat. So much emotion from the man you once thought was the dictionary definition of calm and collected. “To—“

“Marry me,” you fill in, and Jungkook practically blows a fuse from how emotionally fired up he’s become, exclaiming a resolute, “yes!” that leaves you stupidly grinning back at him.

His outburst leaves him with flushed cheeks. “I do,” he reiterates in a softer tone, averting his gaze from you as if embarrassed by his cheesy outpouring of emotion. Usually, it’s the other way around; you make all the corny declarations of love and Jungkook laughs along suavely. It feels nice to have the tables turned.

There’s so much to say, but the words all fade away when Jungkook shyly looks at you again. You settle on tackling him back onto the couch cushions, taking his surprised little yelp in stride as you suffocate him in your embrace. “Save those words for the big day, superstar,” you giggle, peppering his red face with tiny kisses that make him scrunch up cutely. “I can’t wait to blow up into one huge supernova with you.”

Beneath you, Jungkook groans. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, voice muffled against your shoulder. Begrudgingly, his arms come up to envelope you, pulling you closer until the blanket scrunches up uncomfortably between you two. “That must’ve sounded so lame.”

Leaning back so you’re not completely squishing him, you carefully push his silvery hair away from his forehead. “Don’t be,” you assure him, placing one chaste peck against his pouty lips. “I thought it was cute. I didn’t know you were into astrology.”

A sigh. “Astronomy,” he corrects, “astrology has to do with zodiac signs and placements.”

You run your thumbs over his cheeks, collecting any of the drying tears that paint his face. “Oh, like how you’re a Virgo and I’m a“—

The TV remote you had lost somewhere along the way is suddenly rematerialized beneath your knee, sends the speakers blaring to life with a deafening screech that has both you and Jungkook leaping up like two frightened cats. “You always do this,” he laughs, that loud boyish sound that makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud. He watches you with a gentle smile as you hurriedly shut off the television, the remote haphazardly tossed somewhere behind you afterwards. You return to his embrace, wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into his warmth. His heart thumps a steady rhythm beneath your ear.

“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever,” you warn him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like he’ll suddenly disintegrate before your eyes.

Above you, Jungkook hums, placing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I look forward to it,” he responds, pulling you impossibly closer, until you can feel the wrinkles in his shirt imprinting themselves against your cheek. He’s back to being that suave bastard again, and you find yourself wishing you had milked those big crocodile tears out of him for just a little bit longer.

Fingers gently press against the muscles in your nape, push themselves in deeply until you can feel all the tension seeping out, turning you into a limbless blob over Jungkook. “Jeez,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “And you wanted to wait until tomorrow.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I just thought you’d rather get engaged at a fancy restaurant with a pretty dress,” he defends, and you can hear the grin on his face. “For the photos.”

“Fair point,” you concede, eventually pushing yourself up so you’re not entirely squishing your boyfriend beneath you. Jungkook is already looking at you when you lift your head, has got this funny double-chin from this angle that makes his normally sharp jawline disappear. You find yourself tapping a finger against his chin, on the chocolate chip mole that hides itself beneath his plump bottom lip. “If anything, just propose to me again tomorrow at the restaurant.”

It wins you an eye-roll. “I’m not gonna propose to you again tomorrow,” he laughs, doesn’t even push you away when you become annoying and start tapping your fingers against all his beauty marks like you’re playing Whack-a-Mole.

“Booo,” you frown, but let it go soon enough, foregoing your little game to press your lips against his. “Then I better make this a night to remember,” you murmur, tilting your head to the side.

Your hands dip into his luscious locks, fingernails tracing thin lines along his scalp that are certain to send tingles down his spine. As predicted, Jungkook releases a quiet groan soon after, a sound that’s muffled against your own lips. He’s pliant tonight, but not in a way that would elude fatigue. Pliant in a way that suggests he wants you to take the reins tonight, exhaling softly against you as he parts his lips.

“Let me take care of you,” you hum, the hand that had been mindlessly hovering along his cheek drifting down to caress the side of his neck. Jungkook nods, his irises swimming in lust. You smile at his silent compliance, give his throat a light squeeze that makes his breathing hitch in surprise.

He’s always at his prettiest when he’s beneath you like this, limbs moving in slow motion as you guide him along. You can already feel the beginnings of his arousal stirring beneath the front of his sweats, his cock slowly making its presence known against your thigh. You press your lips against his once more, making sure to make it rougher than the first kiss. Your tongue is met with little resistance, slips past his lips and dips into the hot cave of his mouth where Jungkook releases another trembling breath.

Two hands come up behind you, trail themselves over your back and down to your ass, where he gives the two globes a tight squeeze. It draws a whimper out of you, one that Jungkook greedily swallows up. His tongue rubs up along yours, the wet muscle daringly pushing back against yours. His rebelliousness is only quelled with another press of your fingertips around his throat.

“Slow down,” you tell him. The first roll of your hips against him is slow, cruel in that you cut the motion short just as Jungkook begins to push back. A bratty huff escapes him, swollen pink lips pushing out into that endearing pout you love so much. It makes you grin, releasing the grip around his throat to carefully brush a stray strand of hair away from his eyes.

It’s a gesture that works to soften Jungkook as well, the petulant look on his face melting away as you trail your pointer finger along his cheekbone. It’s replaced with a more tender one, dark lashes blinking up at you slowly. “Open,” you command upon reaching his mouth, finger pressing down against his pink lower lip. Jungkook obeys, opening his mouth until you can see his pink tongue and the dark abyss that leads down his throat. Your finger pushes itself in, and Jungkook certainly doesn’t try to resist. His lips suction around the digit fairly quickly, tight enough to keep you there but loose enough for you to slowly draw your finger in and out, each short plunge pressing down against his tongue.

It’s a rather short affair, one that comes to an end when he accidentally bucks up against you, pressing his hardened member against your core. You retract your finger. “Can you,” he tries, but his cheeks are stained red and he refuses to meet your gaze. “Just…”

You intercept him with a chaste peck, maneuvering your legs until your knees are firmly pressed into the couch cushions beneath him, his thin waist trapped in between. When you sit up, you feel drunk on power and the way Jungkook looks up at you certainly doesn’t help. “Can I sit on your face?”

He chokes. “I— sure, please,” he blurts out. His gaze follows you as you slip off of him, quickly discarding your pants and top on the floor. One pat against his thigh has him hurrying to shimmy out of his clothes, his sweatpants caught around his ankles.

“You’re excited,” you laugh, stripping him of his bottoms when the frustration takes him over.

Jungkook scoffs. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, tugging his shirt off with one smooth motion. The ink around his bicep is as dark as ever, contrasts wonderfully against his warm face. “My fiancée is gonna sit on my face.”

The title makes you preen, quickly finding your place on his lap once more. With your clothing out of the way, Jungkook really does become a furnace. Every inch of his body is hot to the touch, soft too. “Fiancée,” you giggle, hands on his chest. They slide down, fingers playfully nudging his brown nipples. Jungkook flinches at the touch. “Gonna sit on my fiancé’s face,” you parrot back, delicately pinching one nipple between your fingers. A moan spills from his lips, his cock pushing against your thigh once more.

It’s the reminder you need, pushing back dutifully against him as you continue to toy with his chest. He’d look pretty with piercings, you find yourself thinking, watching on in fascination at the way his pert nipples stand at attention. Beneath you, Jungkook begins to grow desperate, his hands finding their place on your waist to encourage you to grind down against him once more.

Jungkook swears up and down that he’s not particularly sensitive about having his nipples touched. But when you’ve got him like this, sinfully laid out before you, you can easily confirm that his claims are nothing but lies. He loves having his nipples touched, squirms beneath you impatiently with each playful tug and twist you bestow upon them.

You duck down, pressing a kiss against his pectoral, just beside his nipple, and Jungkook’s entire body shivers. A few careful drags of your tongue against his warm skin only serve to string him along further, the prettiest whimper pulling itself from his lips when you finally envelope one of them in your mouth. “Wait,” he gasps, clawing at your clothing as if he both wants to push you off and push you closer. You grin, brandishing one mean nip at the sensitive nub.

Eventually, your incessant need to play with Jungkook’s chest is fulfilled. “Lay back,” you instruct, watching as he shuffles down flat on the cushions, silver hair tumbling away from his eyes. He’s so red, eyes hazy. Your panties are discarded, joining the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor.

Once upon a time, the idea of sitting on Jungkook’s face had terrified you, filled you with nightmares of crushing his windpipe or breaking his nose. For the most part, they’re pretty unrealistic fears, ones that can be easily shut down after one careful Google search on safe sexual practices. These days, it’s all too easy; in the mornings, especially, it’s become natural for him to guide you on top carefully, holding your hand as you whimper and sob over his face.

In the current moment, you find yourself stroking a hand down the side of his face, completely enamored with the huge puppy eyes he levels your way. Jungkook likes having your pussy in his face just as much as you do, loves making you feel good in any way he knows how. But there’s a separate matter at hand, one that stands at attention beneath his black boxers and successfully wins your attention.

Truthfully, there is no dilemma to ponder over; you want both to ride Jungkook’s face and suck him off. The solution?

“We’ve never done this before,” Jungkook mumbles in amazement, his voice slightly muffled from his position beneath you and slightly behind you. Still, his arms dutifully wrap around your thighs, guiding you closer to his mouth where his hot breath fans against your glistening folds. You rock back willingly, hands preoccupied with pushing his boxers down and away from his engorged cock.

“Really?” you ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the cock before you and the tongue that gently laps at your folds. Jungkook makes a sound, something between a hum and whimper, his mouth slowly getting to work against your folds. “M- Maybe,” you stutter, all thought processes coming to a halt as you carefully take him in your hand.

His cock is hard and long, his tip an angry shade that weeps with precum. From this angle, you get to watch Jungkook’s huge thighs twitch at the sensation, the tattoo that marks up one of them doing little to hide the fact. Your hand squeezes him, watches in awe as another fat droplet oozes out of his tip. A moan tears itself from his throat, and it’s so goddamn sexy it nearly drives you insane.

It’s one particularly long lap of his tongue over your clit that sends you into action, back arching at the tingles that shoot down your spine. Wasting no more time, you guide Jungkook’s cock into your mouth, let your own tongue shower his mushroom tip in kitten licks that have him bucking upwards. He releases your clit with a lewd pop, hot breath fanning across your lips. “Fuck,” he gasps, voice harsh.

Admittedly, it’s more difficult than you thought it would be.

You’re not one to be easily overwhelmed (says you), but with Jungkook’s twitching cock in your mouth and his teasing tongue dipping into your entrance, it becomes hard to juggle your attention between the two. Even Jungkook, who is quite frankly the master of cunnilingus, seems torn between the two, his breathing shallow and quick against your folds.

With each slow descent around his cock, he shudders, thigh muscles tightening in anticipation. It causes a lull in the pace of his tongue, the generous kisses and licks against your folds subject to a somewhat uneven pace that, surprisingly, leaves you more on edge than you’d ever expected it to; right when you think he’s about to suck your clit into his mouth, you’re met with a harsh exhale instead, one that makes your lips flutter.

You’re both disappointed in yourselves for never having tried this mind-blowing position before, and equal parts understanding as to why you haven’t tried this position before— it’s a lot. His cock is halfway down your throat when it twitches, sends a gush of precum into your mouth that has your eyes rolling backwards, a whine slipping out around him. Jungkook appreciates the vibrations, letting it fuel him as he plunges his tongue into your hole. It’s a two way street, you realize, one that is constantly experiencing traffic.

“Baby,” you gasp, pulling off of his cock with a slick sound, hypnotized by the trail of saliva that connects your lips to his tip. Jungkook’s tongue prods along your slit, makes your eyesight go blurry when the tip of his nose brushes along you as well. The idea of his cute nose buried deep someplace it shouldn’t be has you grinding down on him. “We can— we should stop,” you stutter, your trembling hand reaching forward to grasp the base of his cock.

He’s slick with your saliva and his precum, and your hand makes a squelching sound upon contact. It must feel good, because Jungkook moans against your folds, his thighs unconsciously falling farther apart as you slowly jerk him off. You think you might’ve heard your name slip from his lips, but your mind is fuzzy, lost in your lust as Jungkook licks a sinful line from your hole to your clit, curling his tongue at the end. “J- Jungkook,” you cry, flinching away because it’s become too much, your toes curling as the beginnings of an orgasm threaten you.

Before that can happen, he relents, leaning back with a heavy exhale, his hands loosening their grip against your ass and plopping back down against the cushions. “Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching in your hold. A lonely droplet of precum trails down the side, your knuckles coated in the glossy substance. Beneath you, Jungkook rubs one soothing palm against your hip.

You slink off before he can get any funny ideas, maneuver yourself around until you’re kneeling between his parted thighs, his fat cock standing at attention between the two of you. From here, he looks ravenous, and you begin to question who exactly is taking care of who. Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from pinning you down and swallowing you whole, a thought that makes your toes curl.

It’s with a cautiously horny hand that you reach for his cock again, holding him with both hands. Jungkook growls, head lolling backwards until all you can see is his neck and his chin, thick veins protruding along his skin. Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment longer. “C’mere,” he purrs, hauling you up until you’re clumsily leaning over him, palms framing his face. A lone finger runs down your spine, its faint touch making you arch forward. “Sorry,” he says, securing an arm around your waist. “I know you wanted to take care of me, but…”

You roll your eyes, submitting yourself to his clutches as he masterfully rolls the two of you over. The couch is soft beneath your back, and Jungkook looks pretty from above too. “You just can’t sit still, can you?” you murmur playfully.

Jungkook’s forearms find their place beneath your thighs, the fold of the back of your knee perfectly slotted against his warm skin as he shuffles closer. “Maybe another time,” he laughs along sheepishly, his hard cock gliding over your slit, teasing your clit. You gulp, eyes scanning over his lean build as if it’s the first time. “Sorry,” he repeats, but he’s got this stupidly dopey grin on his face as he glances down at your pussy; he’s insane, he’s got to be, what man makes heart eyes at a pussy?

Your man, apparently. Grasping the base of his cock, Jungkook takes care to drag it along your folds collecting your wetness along his length, a deep shudder wracking his body through it all. “I knew you would do this to me,” he mutters, so low you nearly miss it under the thundering sound of your heartbeat.

“Huh,” you mumble, and you’d like to defend yourself and say you weren’t as cock-crazy as Jungkook was coochie-crazy, but that would be a lie. You’re staring at his cock as if it holds the secrets to the universe right now.

Jungkook juts his head to the side, a motion similar to the one he does when he’s trying to crack his neck. His tongue prods along his cheek, eyes laser-focused on the point where your two bodies meet. “From the moment you walked into my house,” he grunts mindlessly, finally lining himself up with your entrance. He chances a glance up, meets your gaze with a patient look, “all good?”

“All good,” you hurriedly reply, fingers finding their place against his broad shoulders. With the way he had prepared you earlier, mouthed along your clit and your folds until you were pleasantly aroused, the glide now is too easy. Tight, but easy, has the two of you releasing twin moans that echo off the wooden walls of the cabin.

Jungkook’s forehead is covered in a thin veil of sweat, one that glistens when the evening sunset pours in through the balcony doors, highlighting him in a golden light that makes you dizzy. The angry tip of his cock sinks into your walls, Jungkook’s ashy strands sticking to his forehead and his cheeks. For some reason, you find yourself reminiscing on the aforementioned moment Jungkook had spoken of. Of the soft sweater he’d worn that day and the dinner he had made, the blond tips on his chestnut hair and the way he’d clung onto every word you’d said.

It makes you tear up, and, after laughing at Jungkook early for crying, you quickly turn your face away.

Jungkook isn’t dumb. “What now,” he chuckles, though his breathing is labored, every inch of his cock that penetrates you further bringing with it another rush of adrenaline. At the hilt, you’re embarrassed to say there’s multiple tears streaming down your face, so you can’t even play it off as you usually do. “Crybaby,” Jungkook teases, but his voice is so soft and tender you don’t know what to do with yourself.

“Just move,” you bite out, shamefully covering your face with your hands. Jungkook leans over you, the movement pushing his dick deeper inside of you, your walls clenching around him. A kiss is placed over your knuckles, just shy of your engagement ring. Your chest lurches with a silent sob. “Jungkook,” you whimper, sinking further into the cushion, “please, just—“

“I got it,” he assures you, placing one final peck against your handmade (literally) shield. And then, so quietly you almost miss it, he makes sure to whisper, “love you,” before unsheathing himself.

You shudder, your heart feeling so full, you fear it’ll burst. You both love and hate when he treats you like this, like an ice sculpture in the scorching heat that has him doing everything he can to keep you solid. His touch is soft, the roll of his hips too slow for your liking. You feel so small and vulnerable— too pampered. “Harder,” you beg, your voice an airy whine that has Jungkook chuckling above you.

He lives to please you, hiking your leg over his shoulder with a renewed vigor. His hands find themselves on your waist, forcefully pinning you down against the couch cushions as he sets upon fulfilling your latest request. The next series of thrusts are jerky, have you jostling in his grip as Jungkook pounds into you with an all new mindset. “Lemme see you,” he huffs, thumbs painfully digging into your skin. You tremble in his arms, heart swayed by the quiet plea in his voice. “Let me see your face, pretty girl.”

Reluctantly, you do, brandishing your tear-stricken face his way. Jungkook smiles, that stupidly handsome smile, his hips snapping into you roughly. “Fuck,” he moans, the expression never leaving his face, even when run your nails over his chest harshly. “You’re so pretty.”

You ignore him for the sake of your already weakened mental state, focusing instead on the brutal force of his hips, the way his cock stretches your walls out. Each push has you seeing stars, thighs quivering from the sensations that shoot up your spine and down your toes. “Oh,” you mewl, hands gripping his biceps as you lose yourself to him. Your eyes roll back, vision a mess of colors and nothingness all at once.

“Is this hard enough?” Jungkook husks out, and he sounds so close. His proximity is confirmed when his mouth slots against yours, his harsh breath mingling with your own as he continues to frantically buck into your inviting heat, each new round of thrusts leaving you weaker and weaker than before. “God,” Jungkook cries, the sound nearly lost beneath your own moans and whimpers. “Gonna k- keep you forever,” he spits, tongue slipping into your mouth.

He’s messier than usual, moves with unrefined movements unlike his normal self. You don’t care, you love him all the same. His sloppy kisses turn into desperate ones, matching the pace of his hips. “Kook,” you sob, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, pulling him close until his thrusts are reduced to a shallower depth.

“I’ve got you,” he croons, lips against your jawline. His cock presses in and you swear you feel it alongside every inch of your walls, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. He’s layering messy kisses down your face now, lips sucking dark marks any chance he gets.

True to his word, Jungkook indeed has you. His cock pistons in and out at an astonishing pace, each surge into your folds making you dizzy over and over again. It’s a feeling you fear you’ll never grow tired of, in fact, it’s a feeling you fear you’ll begin to crave even more in the future. The good thing is, that future will extend into forever.

You yank him towards you, swallow his low laughter with your lips. Jungkook doesn’t complain, lowering himself until he’s practically squishing you beneath his beefy body, cock ramming in and out despite all that. His tongue glides along yours, makes it his mission to muffle each of your cries.

It doesn’t take long for you to be fulfilled. Given the fact you had sucked him off like a lollipop whilst having him eat you out, you’re not entirely surprised. That and the emotions of tonight have you melting into him sooner than you’d like, his name falling from your lips as your thighs clamp down around his waist. Jungkook takes it in stride, slows the maddening pace of his hips to cradle you in his arms. You’re like jelly, practically flop back into the cushion when he slips an arm beneath you. “You’re so good for me,” Jungkook praises, lavishing your throat in tiny pecks as his orgasm circles around. “My pretty girl.”

“Love you,” you sigh, and your body feels numb, his intrusion but a small touch now that he’s tired you out once more, your walls tender and raw. Jungkook presses a smile against your throat and, moments later, releases inside of you.

Even minutes after the deed, the feeling refuses to return to your legs. He didn’t go that hard— well, you’re not entirely sure. The memories always become blurry toward the end of your escapades. Everything rushes back in waves, and for some reason, your first thought is, “where’s Sailor Moon?”

Your post-rump conversations have never been the most coherent, usually filled with pretty weird thoughts and ideas. Still, more grand things have happened tonight for you to be worried about a magical anime girl. Jungkook draws himself out of your core with a huff of laughter. “On the TV,” he answers, unfazed by the oddity of your question.

That’s how you know he’s a keeper.

It takes a while, but eventually Jungkook responds. “Avocado toast,” he says, though his answer is dripping with uncertainty. He’s naked as the day he was born, snuggled up beside you in bed. He’s propped up on one arm, looking down at you over the ample swell of his manly bosom. It takes everything in you to keep your hands off his chest.

“Correct,” you respond, “and what movie did we watch?”

Without missing a beat, “Transformers, the first one.”

You nod, glancing at the ceiling as you rack your brain for any other trivia questions to ask your fiancé. “The title of the playlist you made?”

A flush paints his cheeks. “Date Night playlist,” he answers through a pout, reprimanding you for bringing up such a memory with a flick to your forehead. You wince. “I was young and silly,” he defends.

You beam, cuddling into his side until he’s forced to lay back down. “Yeah, yeah,” you tease. “We’re only gonna get older from here,” you lament. You’d say it’s difficult to picture him with a gray head of hair, but his current silvery locks don’t leave much room for your imagination.

Jungkook pulls you close. A beat of silence passes, and then, “so who are we telling first?”

Definitely Namjoon.

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aiiwa · 4 years

Text

FRESHMAN YEAR — IWAIZUMI HAJIME.

— iwaizumi hajime.

⤷ genre: college au - fluff / smut

⤷ warnings: cursing, mature content and themes, smut, oral (receiving and giving), unprotected sex

⤷ word count: 6.2k

— a/n: this was an anon request for a reader trying to sneak off away from iwa the morning after and he ain’t having none of that 😈

i had no intention of this being so long, but iwa just gets me going aight!!

freshman year of college had given you many things.

an unrivalled expertise in procrastination - avoiding the overwhelming influx of assignments from your professors was second-nature at this point; party now, cry later, right? carpe fucking diem, no? either way, it had also given you a liver which begged for a glass of water, a drop even, anything but the wretched burn of vodka and the copious amounts of iced lattes at three in the morning. and deities forbid your mother ever finding out her daughter lived off of spicy instant ramen that somehow was always on sale at the campus convenience store. you even considered the discounted prices stemmed from the store owners taking pity on you each time you stood before them counting loose change.

yet freshman year of college had also given you a best friend in the form of matsukawa issei. and hanamaki takahiro, since they were a package deal of course. but mattsun had been presented to you on a silver platter.

butt ass naked, just like the day he was brought into this world.

arriving on campus a week before the start of the first semester, the last thing you expected to see was a hunched over figure, bare ass mooning right in front of you, banging on the fragile door of your dorm. shaking out of your stupor, you had all but cussed him out in the corridor, earning more unnecessary attention from other nosy students, before you dragged him by his arm into your room. in the flurry of your attempted rescue, he’d dropped the hand that was holding whatever sliver of dignity he had left. you had even failed to realise how this strange boy was almost a foot taller than you, and rather being eye-to-eye, it was rather eye-to-waist - and you had made the mistake of glancing lower.

“yeah lil’ big mattsun is a looker, right?” you prayed everyday to forget his first words to you. the prayers had yet to be answered, though your initial reaction had made it somewhat alright to think back on.

you had screamed bloody murder, sending mattsun into a frenzied panic, his own screams harmonising yours. then you had cried, furiously rubbing at your eyes, and sobbing about how your eyes would never be the same again. when he had reached out to comfort you, that’s when you turned on him, jumping upwards to swat at his bony shoulders. after he tumbled over your rug, the two of you halted, eyeing each other before laughing like maniacs.

he left your dorm that day, running off in your pink fluffy robe with plans to meet up later for dinner. when he introduced you to the pink-haired makki - the reason behind mattsun’s nudity at your door, though the specifics were lost - the three of you hit it off like a bunch of crazies.

most days were spent between your dorm and their shared apartment; stress eating over forgotten assignments, binging shitty reality tv shows - the bachelor was just hitting different this season - and pre-gaming a bit too hard before nights out.

it had confused you at first on how, as much as you were over at their apartment, you had yet to meet their other roommate. makki had told you he was a close friend from back home in miyagi, the serious type who spent most of his time training, studying or working; and it was mattsun who had said he was a total mom, “he’s our mommy,” were his exact words, adding to the list of things you wish you could forget.

it was probably around two months into the semester, when you’d finally met their elusive third roommate.

that night mattsun, makki and you were in a rare state of focus, working diligently on your own respective papers, when they’d nominated you to heat up some frozen pizza to snack on. which is how you found yourself, grumbling, bent at the waist to place the pizza in the oven; ignorant to the jingling of keys, and heavyset footsteps entering the kitchen.

“well this is something new to come home to.”

you jolted at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, whacking the side of your skull on the edge of the counter in a haste to stand up to your full height. you cursed loudly, hand pressed against the throbbing pain in your head as you turned to glare at the culprit. though that was cut short, alongside your breathing, by the sexiest man alive you had ever laid your eyes on, entering your personal space.

he towered over you, not in the same way as mattsun or makki, but what he lacked in height, he made up for in brawn. your eyes greedily traced his body; the steel gray gym shirt clung to him like a second skin, eight slight dips outlining his abs and his wide chest. broad shoulders blocked your view from everything irrelevant behind him, and you watched, almost in slow motion, as his biceps flexed under the tight confines of his shirt sleeves, to reach out and place his much larger hand over yours. you felt every fibre in your being going into overdrive under his unexpected touch, and all he was doing was checking over the swelled up island on your forehead.

“are you alright, y/n?” your ovaries were quaking at the deep rasp of his voice- and wait, he knows your name? “you are y/n, right?” he asked, reading the confusion on your face. you nodded absentmindedly, raising your gaze to meet his own.

you groaned inwardly - who gave this man the right to a sexy body and to look this fucking good? taking in the handsome features of his face; wild crop of dark chocolate hair, smooth tanned skin, highlighting the sharp cut of his jaw, and the attractive straight of his nose. his lips were pouty, eyes slanted under shaped brows, olive hues peeking past his long dark lashes to stare at you.

he moved his hand away from the top of yours, the added warmth missed already; and took your lack of reply as a sign to introduce himself and apologise.

“i’m mattsun and makki’s roommate, iwaizumi hajime. sorry for scaring you.”

you were ready to drag mattsun and makki to hell and back for hiding this fine man- no, greek fucking god, from you all this time. in an attempt to compose yourself and avoid anymore embarrassment, you smiled, dopily, releasing an airy laugh while waving off the apology.

“i’m l/n y/n.”

amusement shifted over his features, a smirk painting over his lips as his eyes creased on the sides. you had to hold on tightly to the reigns forbidding you from openly swooning.

“i know.” he chucked lowly.

you had never wanted the ground to swallow you whole as much as then. the heat you could feel radiating off your cheeks was a clear sign of how embarrassed you were, making a complete fool of yourself in front of the man you were borderline prepared to request to be your future baby daddy. so when mattsun strolled in, casually greeting iwa and poking at the bump on your forehead, you hadn’t been more grateful for your best friend.

too bad it wasn’t enough to avoid the wrath you unleashed on him and makki later on; a series of kicks to their sides, and their own personal hell of listening to how badly you wanted to be split open on his dick.

thinking you had scared away the gorgeous iwaizumi, you were ready to be avoided at all costs. yet surprisingly, after that night, he was suddenly everywhere.

he joined in on your hangouts with the boys. group study sessions where you usually did more foolery than studying? iwa was there to knock all of you into gear. late night fast food runs to satisfy your cravings? iwa was driving, kicking mattsun and makki to the back of his jeep when they’d try to steal your designated seat next to him. and the parties he used to avoid? there he was stuck in the chaos of it all, holding your drink and glaring at anyone who dared to approach the two of you.

of course, iwa’s sudden involvement in your life hadn’t gone unnoticed by mattsun and makki - the two of you becoming their favourite victims to tease. and when his threats and your fists were no longer able to get them off your backs, iwa had taken to spending time with you, without them.

you liked to call them not-dates, even though it was just to parry the feelings rapidly developing for him.

going to the coffee shop you two often frequented so he could buy your favourite drink while you ranted about your shitty group presentation, was a not-date. taking him to the drive-in godzilla screenings every friday for five weeks, because you knew they were his favourite movies, was a not-date. him making you dinner every other night because your mom found out about your insane intake of instant ramen and blasted you during a video call while he was over, was a not-date.

as expected after months of this going on, your two best friends constantly called you out for your not-dates being actual dates. even one of your classmates took to informing you each time your ‘body builder boyfriend’ was waiting outside for you. but ignorance was bliss, and you were sure iwa didn’t feel that way towards you. at least that was until the day you had met oikawa tooru.

you noticed that iwa had been more than a bit apprehensive, as each day passed bringing his best friend’s return to japan closer and closer, though he wouldn’t explain why. yet it seemed it was over nothing, since you and oikawa got along great, even if he did comment every other second on you and iwa’s closeness. meeting the pretty setter had been like placing the missing puzzle piece in the dynamic with your favourite boys.

after a loud lunch with the four boys, oikawa had pulled you in for a tight hug as iwa was about to drop you off to your afternoon class for that day.

“iwa-chan talks about you all the time, y/n-chan, but he’s a dum-dum so forgive him for being slow, alright!” he had whispered in your ear, before pulling away with a mischievous glint in his mocha coloured eyes. “iwa-chan you sly dog! keeping y/n all to yourself, hmm? maybe i should just take her back with me to argentina- wait, iwa-chan, i’m sorry! don’t chase me! gah!”

after that, you started to accept the fact that maybe what was once simply physical attraction, had turned into a deep affection for iwaizumi. the only issue was that, like oikawa said, iwa was a dum-dum, and he didn’t mention anything from what oikawa said that day or his extreme reaction to oikawa’s teasing. hell, you didn’t even know if he even realised that the way he treated you, which was very much a stark contrast to how he treated others, was him subconsciously wooing you.

so the not-dates continued, and you inevitably fell deeper and deeper for sweet, oblivious iwa.

the semesters flew by, it was finally the end of freshman year; exams completed, life instantly renewed, and you were ready to attend the shit show of an end-of-year finisher tonight. the plans were for you to drive over to the boys’ apartment, pre-game like never before, and then head off to the party. so you were surprised when your phone pinged with a string of messages from the group chat.

stepping out of the elevator, the click clack of your laced-up stilettos echoed in the tiled corridor, as you made your way towards the boys’ apartment. the better part of you was suspicious of mattsun and makki’s sudden change of plans; though it was shot to the back of your mind as you raised a manicured hand to tap against their door.

shifting around a bit, you didn’t have to wait long before the door was yanked open.

“y/n.” iwa greeted you with a lopsided grin.

you couldn’t prevent the gasp that escaped your glossy lips at the sight of him.

an arm was held above his head, bicep flexing as his hand rested on top of the door frame, the other scratching the back of his thick neck. the rich scent of his cinnamon cologne, mixed with the musk of his aftershave wafted around you; as your eyes followed the droplet from his damp hair, sliding down the side of his jaw on to his bare shoulders. now, shirt-wearing iwa was incredible, with his collection of monotone coloured shirts that always seemed a size too small; but shirtless iwa? had you frothing at the mouth.

you dared your eyes to move lower, skirting over the delicious sight of his bare chest, and willing yourself to commit every stretch of him to memory. the taut muscles of his stomach tightened as you drank them in, the deep v indents cut around his hips, and your eyes followed over the fuzzy trail of dark hair that disappeared underneath the waistband of his jeans that sat dangerously low.

and while your mouth ran dry, you couldn’t say the same thing about the situation between your legs; pressing your thighs together to alleviate some of the pressure.

“iwa, uh...the boys...said to come over, change of plans.” was all you were able to choke out. physically you were standing before him, but mentally you were writhing under him.

“i know, they left a while ago.” he replied, the corner of his pretty mouth tugged upwards. “i’m almost ready to go, come inside.”

he already took up the entire space of the door frame, and when he only moved a bit to the side, you were forced to slip through the tiniest of gaps; shivering as your shoulder grazed against his own. standing in the middle of the hallway, you heard the soft click of the door closing, before iwa turned to face you.

you could feel the intoxicating heat radiating off his body spread across your own. the two of your were so close in each other’s space, chest to chest, and even in heels, you still only reached just under his jaw. when you glanced up to look at him, you swore you had caught his olive eyes lingering on the exposed skin of your breasts, before they moved to meet yours.

something different swirled in the depths of iwa’s eyes, something you had never witnessed before. something kin to a wolf staring at its lamb; a hunger so strong, so...fuck...

“you look beautiful, y/n.”

the compliment strikes you in surprise, feeling the flush rise up in your face, and the fluttering in your stomach. you could feel the pounding of your heart beat, drumming in your ears; watching his adam’s apple bob slowly, as he moved his hand to brush away the hair covering your neck. naturally you leaned into his touch.

“iwa…?” you whispered out to him in slight confusion.

“this dress on you...driving me crazy,” he starts, before cutting himself off with a groan. “sorry, y/n, i-i think i overstepped.” he tries to move his hand away from your neck, but you wrap your fingers around his wrist.

oikawa’s voice ran through your mind in a fleeting memory- ‘...forgive him for being slow, alright!’

“are you drunk, iwa?”

“what? no...i haven’t...i’m sober.”

“that’s good then.”

“y/n? good for what?”

“it’s good because then you can show me.” your fingers reach out to flitter over the ridges of his stomach. “won’t you show me how my dress drives you crazy, iwa?”

the surge of courage coursing through your veins, to be able to call him out like you had wanted to for months and seasons, was all it took for iwa to lose the composure he always kept up around you.

without hesitation, the big hand on your neck tugs you right into him; tits pushed together against his chest, as he dips his head to press his lips against yours.

the kiss is far from simple; there’s no room for it, months of pining won’t allow sweet and slow. your hand slides over his broad shoulder, to pull at the dark tufts at the nape of his neck; mouth slanting over his, tongues brushing against each other sensually. you explore his mouth, tasting him, while his hands squeeze over the curves of your body, eliciting a moan once he grabs at the fullness of your ass. you push up against him further, the hard tent in his pants straining against your belly.

“more, iwa, please...need more.” you pant against his lips.

“i got you baby, don’t worry.” he kisses you again, slower, with just as much passion. bending at the knees, and hiking the end of your dress up under your ass, he grabs at the silky underside of your thighs to lift you up into him - ankles locked at the bottom of his spine. he’s carrying you like nothing, and the amusing thought of his arms not only being for show flies through your head before you’re gasping.

the feeling of being pulled flush against him, the damp heat of your clothed pussy grinding against his bare stomach, has you keening for more. he groans loudly at the feeling of your slick coating his skin, and you jostle about as he begins walking through the hallway and towards his bedroom. as your sucking gently on his tongue, he carries you into his room, kicking the door closed behind him.

once his knees hit the edge of his mattress, he gently lowers you to lay down before him on your back. he hovers over you, the lewd swirling of your tongues has your head spinning before he moves from your mouth to latch onto your neck.

“ah, iwa- fuck,” you moan as his teeth grazed your sweet spot. he rolls his hips into you, spreading your legs to accommodate him more, while tugging at the ribbons of your heels. “what about...the party?”

sitting up from you, he grips your legs, sliding you right into him. through heavy lidded eyes, you watch as he takes in your disheveled appearance, a smirk taking over his features.

“fuck the party.” his large palms work the straps of your dress down, exposing your perfect tits; he groans at the sight, leaning down to take a pebbled nipple into his hot mouth. “this night is for me and you, baby.”

you weren’t necessarily a morning person, so living in the dorms, had been a relatively easy decision to make. you had a room to yourself, away from trees allowing a nice view of the campus grounds, and subsequently circumventing the annoying chirping of nested birds. you even added blackout curtains to block out the morning sun.

so when you were woken up by the itching burn of the sunrise on your stomach and your ears ringing with incessant twittering, you groaned loudly.

burying your face deeper into the fluffy pillow under your head, you were squirming under the heavy weight resting over half your body; irritation growing with your inability to get comfortable. peeking an eye open, blinking away the sleep clouding your vision, you took in the sight of a sleeping iwaizumi snuggled between the valley of your breasts. as you became more aware of your body and its surroundings, you felt the panic settling in.

as if he could sense your consciousness, the arm wrapped around your waist gave you a squeeze as he mumbled incoherently. “mmm, baby...y/n...feels good…” his hand slid down the side of your thigh, goosebumps following his fingertips, before it rested on your inner thigh; and he was drifting back to sleep.

you had to shove your fist against your mouth to stop yourself from screaming.

part of you was in denial that last night had actually happened. you, l/n y/n, had spent the night with the iwaizumi hajime - man of your literal dreams, who you had fallen so deeply for. and you had spent it having sex.

raw. nasty. passionate. earth-shattering. sex.

“fuck.” you whispered to yourself. “how could i be so stupid?” you were cursing yourself internally, certain you had fucked up everything you had built in your friendship with iwa - there was honestly no coming back from what transpired between you two.

and with your fight-or-flight response triggered, there was only one thing for you to do right now - get the fuck out of there.

maneuvering your body from underneath iwa’s big arm, without waking him up was a feat in itself. doing so with the way your muscles ached with each motion was on another level. sliding one foot after the other out from under his charcoal bed sheets, you pushed yourself up to sit.

looking behind you at iwa’s sleeping figure, you felt yourself swooning. half lying on his side, with his cotton sheets draped over his waist, you couldn’t help but admire him. his mouth was slightly open, his big arms cuddling the pillow you were laying on, and the smooth skin of his tanned back were tainted with red, angry marks. gulping audibly, your eyes dragged down to the prominent outline of his half-hard cock.

pushing himself up by his forearms, the desperation swimming in his eyes was begging for your touch. you grazed your teeth across his chest, biting at his hardened nipples teasingly, before moving further down from his lap while your tongue drew circles around the dips of his taut abdomen.

“y/n, don’t tease me.”

you smirked at his order, sucking on his skin and pressing wet kisses on his hip bones, before leaning back. he watched you eagerly as your dainty fingers tugged at his belt buckle clumsily, lifting himself up he could slip out of his jeans.

“can’t wait to have your cock in my mouth.” you cooed, eyes starstruck at the tent in his boxer briefs, wet patch dampening at its peak. hooking your finger under the waistband, you hastily yanked the briefs down to free him, his hard cock slapping against his stomach. “fuck you’re so big, haji.”

he was easily the biggest you’ve seen, ever had the chance of pleasuring - so thick, so long, and so fucking beautiful.

you didn’t bother to dwell on the taste of his name on your lips, when you were too busy tasting the essence leaking from his angry, swollen tip. you could barely wrap your hands around the base of his cock, as you pressed a sweet kiss on the head, pre cum coating your lips, before taking it in your hot mouth, suckling gently.

the groan he releases is animalistic, and his hips buck upwards to shove his cock deeper in your mouth. pressing your hand at his navel to keep him steady, you continue sucking harshly, almost painfully, before lowering your head down. his cock slides down your throat, inch by inch, as tears prick at your eyes and you can feel your drool drop on the thumb massaging his balls. he blocked your airways, but fuck breathing when the look on his face when you take all of him in your mouth like a good girl is so, so perfect.

steadily bobbing your head, you feel every inch of him down your throat; tongue swirling around his length, and he twitches every time you trace the thick vein on the underside of his cock. you suck faster and harder as iwa reaches a hand out to feel around your throat.

“fuck, baby, i can feel me in your throat. so fucking good, just like that.” he hisses out, choking up when you begin to hum. “mmm fuck- ah, shit! gonna cum baby! fuck!”

yanking away your hand you hadn’t realised was brushing around your neck as the vision of him disappeared from your thoughts, you stood up, a bit unsteady on your feet at first. you could still taste him, as you ran your tongue over the hood of your mouth.

knowing you were getting distracted, you shook your head gently, pushing your hair away from your face. you needed your clothes, so glancing around, taking note of the strips of clothing scrambled in his room - your eyes caught the baby pink of your lace panties hanging from his bedside lamp.

one second you were swallowing his cock down your throat, and the next he had torn the rest of your dress off and had you laid out in front of him.

iwa made fast work in manhandling you the way he wanted. stretching his legs straight beside you, he pulled you right into him; you gasped as he lifted you up by your waist, practically folding you with the underside of your thighs tucked under the bulk of his arms, knees by your shoulders, and your lower back pressed right against his heaving chest. he was hunched over you, wrapping you fully in his embrace, while you were spread out right in his face.

“you soaked right through your pretty panties, baby.” leaning down, he presses his nose right into your clothed heat, making you squirm, as he breathes you in. “fuck, you smell so sweet, i wanna eat you up real good.”

“i-iwa.” you whined, staring at him through heavy-lidded eyes as you pressed the side of your face into the mattress.

“no, no baby. when we’re like this…” he starts, reaching a hand to tear the thin, and expensive, material right off of you. before you have a chance to complain, his hot breath blows on your drooling pussy, tight hole clenching around nothing in anticipation. “...you’ll say my name.”

“h-hajime, please, haji.” you beg, feeling embarrassed at how exposed you were. he could see everything, do anything to you as he pleased, and you would just let him. so when he presses his heavy tongue flat against your slit, licking all the way up to your throbbing clit; you can’t help but dig your finger nails into his toned calves beside you. “ah- yes! mmm...haji, oh-!”

sucking on your clit, he digs his fingers into your thighs, deeper and deeper in response to your whiny moans for more. he hums against you, mumbling about how sweet you taste, how much he can’t get enough of your flavour, and you can feel him getting hard again - grinding against your back. he slides his tongue between your folds, slurping you up so good, that it’s no surprise you’re teetered over the edge.

“haji! oh, oh fuck! ah yes!” the waves of you cumming hits hard as your pussy gushes all over the lower half of his face. “daddy! s-so good, f-fuck!”

still up in the clouds from your high, calling him daddy flies over your head, but isn’t missed by iwa. you watch, dazed, as he moves away from your pussy, a lewd string of silver connects his mouth to you, his chin glistening with your juices. reaching around your trembling thighs, his thumbs spread your lips so he can get an ever better view of your sopping cunt.

“i knew you’d be my good baby and say my name.” he grins, before leaning back down to you and delving his tongue right in your pussy, tongue-fucking you slowly and massaging your slick walls, his nose nudging your sensitive clit. “now come again in daddy’s mouth.”

heat pooled between your legs as you stretched, ignoring the iwa-sized hand prints painted purple across your thighs, while you thought about him and the magic his mouth performed. waddling to his side table - you examined the remnants of your panties; the pretty pink lace was all but shredded, and you hopelessly threw the material in the trash.

“fucking hell, iwa.” the glare you aimed his way, softened drastically as you took in his sleeping figure. sighing, you turn and spot what may be your dress halfway under his bed.

shuffling over, you crouch, the burn in your thighs making itself even more known and forcing your eyes to shut in a grimace.

the way iwa’s cock filled your little cunt felt while you rode him was incredible. nothing could ever compare to the way he was ruining you from the inside out, and you were sure nothing would ever come close. his big hands palmed your ass while you were bouncing up and down on his length, your belly jutting out every time he was sheathed inside you, your thighs tremored each time they slapped against his.

“fuck, daddy! feels...mmm…wanna cum, please!” your tongue was lolling out of your mouth, as fucked yourself on his cock, digging crescent moon shapes into his shoulder blades. one of his hands remained firmly on your ass, while fingers of the other reached around to pinch your clit.

with a scream you came undone, creaming all over his still-hard cock, and collapsing forward onto his sweaty chest. you whimpered, while he continued to fuck up into your used pussy. despite the tears threatening to fall down your flushed cheeks; you mewled for more.

“shh, baby,” iwa hummed into your neck, you could feel his grin against your skin, peppering kisses as you leaned into him. “daddy’s gonna make you feel even better.”

his thick arms wrapped almost painfully in a death grip around your exhausted body, as he locked his legs and angled himself into your pussy; fucking deep inside you, and hitting your cervix with each stroke. you came again, harder, legs quivering as your insides spasmed; this time joined by his orgasm, as the mixture of his cum was stuffed inside you.

your eyes shot open, breathing slightly laboured. it hadn’t even been a day, only mere hours, and the way iwa had taken over your mind was slowly driving you insane. dropping to your knees, you reached out to grab at your dress, having to slide the top half of your body under the bed.

that sound of iwa’s big hand slapping your ass while he pounded into you from behind, rung in your ears, but the sting and the pleasure was all your fucked out brain could comprehend. he was absolutely relentless with his too-big cock, tearing into you.

on all fours, you arched your back more to accommodate him. each thrust had him bottoming out in your already leaking pussy.

“fuck baby, just like that, mmm- push back into me.”

everything just felt too fucking good. the harsh pace of his strokes had you blabbering, moaning about how good he felt into the mattress.

“don’t stop! oh fuck, please don’t stop haji!”

but you felt his pace begin to slow just as you were about to climax, and when you tried to move back on him his grip on your waist tightened. with ease, he flipped you on your back, almost skewering you on his cock still inside you. hooking the backs of your knees over his elbows as he leaned over you, his full weight folding your body underneath him, as he wove his fingers with yours into the mattress above your head.

“look at my fat cock sliding into that sweet cunt, baby.” iwa grunts. his arms strained, holding his weight up from crushing you, as he teased your sloppy hole. “fuck, you take me so good, baby.”

you whimpered, looking at the connection between the two of you. with a roll of his hips, you watched as his cock slid into your silky walls, the lewd sound of you squelching with every stroke had you arching up, wanting him deeper in your tummy as you gushed around him.

unlike before when his thrusts were rough, filled with raw feral passion; it was now slow, sensual and so fucking sexy. and when you met his gaze, as he continued to grind into you, gripping your fingers tightly between his; it felt as though he was trying to tell you something.

that intense emotion swirling deep in his olive gaze was searing, burning through you from the inside out. everything unsaid between the two of you. but soon enough your orgasm hit you harder than ever, pleasure electric under your heated skin.

“haji, haji, haji- oh, fuck yes!” you chanted his name like a prayer.

“y/n, baby, fuck i love you-“ he moans out, strokes becoming sloppy. “wanted this...for so long- shit, i’m cumming baby!”

snatching your dress from under the bed, you sat on your knees at the foot of his bed, thinking over everything you just wanted to ignore for the time being. you almost wish you could forget he had told you he loved you. how could you possible believe those three words while he was at the pinnacle of his pleasure?

suddenly the shrill ringtone of iwa’s phone blasted next to him. scrambling to your feet, you snatched the phone; fingers mashing the screen to cut off the sound before he woke up.

“what?” you hissed, holding the phone to your ear as you glanced at iwa. you thanked whichever gods were watching over you that he was still fast asleep.

“oho? y/n-chan? is that you~?” nevermind, the gods were out for you.

“tooru?”

“the one and only!” you winced at the smug teasing in his tone. “i was hoping to speak to iwa-chan, but i heard he was a naughty boy last night!”

“uh...what?”

“as in i literally heard him, and you, last night when i came back to the apartment!” oikawa recalls in a sing-song voice, rambling on about how he was here to surprise the two of you. “i always knew our dear iwa-chan had a daddy kink!”

placing the phone between your ear and your shoulder, you attempted to fit your dress over you, while oikawa continued on his spiel of how it took way too fucking long for the two of you to do something about the sexual tension. you had no chance to even peep a word in.

“damn baby, now this view i could definitely get used to.”

you almost shrieked, bumping into iwa’s naked body, and tripping over the dress dropped around your ankles. you had no idea he’d woken up, sneaking right up behind you in all his naked fucking glory; forcing you to try your hardest not to eye his cock standing at full attention.

“is that iwa-chan?!” oikawa all but screams into the phone. iwa raises a questioning brow, hearing his best friend on the other line. “tell him to be good and wrap it up! no glove, no love!”

you had no business feeling embarrassed at the brat king’s words, while iwa snatched his phone away from you.

“too late for that, shittykawa.” oikawa’s screeches are the last thing you hear before iwa ends the call.

you almost dare to chuckle at the thought of oikawa’s reaction; but falter under iwa’s stare. it’s the same look he gives mattsun or makki when they’re in trouble, but it’s mixed in with the same scorching look from last night, and you shift on your feet nervously, wrapping your arms across your chest.

“going somewhere?” iwa gruffs out, the raspiness of his morning voice had you tugging your bottom lip between your teeth.

“um, home…?” the uncertainty was clear in your voice, especially as he scowled when you mentioned leaving. “iwa, i-”

“oh so it’s iwa now?” he cuts you off, taking a step closer into your space. “i liked it when you called me haji, though daddy follows closely after that.”

you gasp when a thick arm snakes around your waist, pulling you up against him. his other hand caresses your cheek so sweetly, before he grabs your jaw to tilt your face up to his, taking your lips with his own. the kiss is gentle, soft lips moving against your own as his tongue brushes yours sweetly. you’ve fully melted in his hold, eyes still closed when he breaks the kiss.

“i meant what i said last night, y/n.” he whispers against your mouth. “i love you.” your eyes shoot open, and you can feel your heart trying to beat itself out of your chest.

“i-i love you too.” you murmur back, and the smile he gives you has you ready to combust right before him. after all this time, a party had been the reason you finally admitted your feelings for him.

“now come back to bed.” you squeal as he lifts you up and over his shoulder, the grip he takes on your inner thigh is ticklish making you squirm about. “i’m gonna cuddle you back to sleep, and then when we wake up i’m gonna take you out on a date, okay baby?”

you giggle as he tosses you back on his fluffy mattress, dropping himself right on top of you and nuzzling his face into the dip between your neck and shoulder. running your hands softly over the muscled panes of his back, one reaches out to thread your fingers in the tufts of dark hair at his nape.

“okay, haji.”

freshman year had given you a lot of things, but iwaizumi hajime was the best thing yet. you couldn’t wait to see what sophomore year had in store for you.

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi imagine #haikyuu smut #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu college au #iwaizumi hajime x reader #oikawa tooru #matsukawa issei #hanamaki takahiro #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#iwa x reader

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letterboxd · 3 years

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In Focus: The Mummy

Dominic Corry responds on behalf of Letterboxd to an impassioned plea to bump up the average rating of the 1999 version of The Mummy—and asks: where is the next great action adventure coming from?

We recently received the following email regarding the Stephen Sommers blockbuster The Mummy:

To whom it may concern,

I am writing to you on behalf of the nation, if not the entire globe, who frankly deserve better than this after months of suffering with the Covid pandemic.

I was recently made aware that the rating of The Mummy on your platform only stands at 3.3 stars out of five. … This, as I’m sure you’re aware, is simply unacceptable. The Mummy is, as a statement of fact, the greatest film ever made. It is simply fallacious that anyone should claim otherwise, or that the rating should fail to reflect this. This oversight cannot be allowed to stand.

I have my suspicions that this rating has been falsely allocated due to people with personal axes to grind against The Mummy, most likely other directors who are simply jealous that their own artistic oeuvres will never attain the zenith of perfection, nor indeed come close to approaching the quality or the cultural influence of The Mummy. There is, quite frankly, no other explanation. The Mummy is, objectively speaking, a five-star film (… I would argue that it in fact transcends the rating sytem used by us mere mortals). It would only be proper, as a matter of urgency, to remove all fake ratings (i.e. any ratings [below] five stars) and allow The Mummy’s rating to stand, as it should, at five stars, or perhaps to replace the rating altogether with a simple banner which reads “the greatest film of all time, objectively speaking”. I look forward to this grievous error being remedied.

Best, Anwen

Which of course: no, we would never do that. But the vigor Anwen expresses in her letter impressed us (we checked: she’s real, though is mostly a Letterboxd lurker due to a busy day-job in television production, “so finding time to watch anything that isn’t The Mummy is, frankly, impossible… not that there’s ever any need to watch anything else, of course.”).

So Letterboxd put me, Stephen Sommers fan, on the job of paying homage to the last great old-school action-adventure blockbuster, a film that straddles the end of one cinematic era and the beginning of the next one. And also to ask: where’s the next great action adventure coming from?

Brendan Fraser, Rachel Weisz and John Hannah in ‘The Mummy’ (1999).

When you delve into the Letterboxd reviews of The Mummy, it quickly becomes clear how widely beloved the film is, 3.3 average notwithstanding. Of more concern to the less youthful among us is how quaintly it is perceived, as if it harkens back to the dawn of cinema or something. “God, I miss good old-fashioned adventure movies,” bemoans Holly-Beth. “I have so many fond memories of watching this on TV with my family countless times growing up,” recalls Jess. “A childhood classic,” notes Simon.

As alarming as it is to see such wistful nostalgia for what was a cutting-edge, special-effects-laden contemporary popcorn hit, it has been twenty-one years since the film was released, so anyone currently in their early 30s would’ve encountered the film at just the right age for it to imprint deeply in their hearts. This has helped make it a Raiders of the Lost Ark for a specific Letterboxd demographic.

Sommers took plenty of inspiration from the Indiana Jones series for his take on The Mummy (the original 1932 film, also with a 3.3 average, is famously sedate), but for ten-year-olds in 1999, it may have been their only exposure to such pulpy derring-do. And when you consider that popcorn cinema would soon be taken over by interconnected on-screen universes populated by spandex-clad superheroes, the idea that The Mummy is an old-fashioned movie is easier to comprehend.

However, for all its throwbackiness, beholding The Mummy from the perspective of 2020 reveals it to have more to say about the future of cinema than the past. 1999 was a big year for movies, often considered one of the all-time best, but the legacy of The Mummy ties it most directly to two of that year’s other biggest hits: Star Wars: Episode One—The Phantom Menace and The Matrix. These three blockbusters represented a turning point for the biggest technological advancement to hit the cinematic art-form since the introduction of sound: computer-generated imagery, aka CGI. The technique had been widely used from 1989’s The Abyss onwards, and took significant leaps forward with movies such as Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991), Jurassic Park (1993) and Starship Troopers (1997), but the three 1999 films mentioned above signified a move into the era when blockbusters began to be defined by their CGI.

A year before The Mummy, Sommers had creatively utilised CGI in his criminally underrated sci-fi action thriller Deep Rising (another film that deserves a higher average Letterboxd rating, just sayin’), and he took this approach to the next level with The Mummy. While some of the CGI in The Mummy doesn’t hold up as well as the technopunk visuals presented in The Matrix, The Mummy showed how effective the technique could be in an historical setting—the expansiveness of ancient Egypt depicted in the movie is magnificent, and the iconic rendering of Imhotep’s face in the sand storm proved to be an enduringly creepy image. Not to mention those scuttling scarab beetles.

George Lucas wanted to test the boundaries of the technique with his insanely anticipated new Star Wars film after dipping his toe in the digital water with the special editions of the original trilogy. Beyond set expansions and environments, a bunch of big creatures and cool spaceships, his biggest gambit was Jar Jar Binks, a major character rendered entirely through CGI. And we all know how that turned out.

A CGI-enhanced Arnold Vosloo as Imhotep.

Sommers arguably presented a much more effective CGI character in the slowly regenerating resurrected Imhotep. Jar Jar’s design was “bigger” than the actor playing him on set, Ahmed Best. Which is to say, Jar Jar took up more space on screen than Best. But with the zombie-ish Imhotep, Sommers (ably assisted by Industrial Light & Magic, who also worked on the Star Wars films) used CGI to create negative space, an effect impossible to achieve with practical make-up—large parts of the character were missing. It was an indelible visual concept that has been recreated many times since, but Sommers pioneered its usage here, and it contributed greatly to the popcorn horror threat posed by the character.

Sommers, generally an unfairly overlooked master of fun popcorn spectacle (G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra is good, guys), deserves more credit for how he creatively utilized CGI to elevate the storytelling in The Mummy. But CGI isn’t the main reason the film works—it’s a spry, light-on-its-feet adventure that presents an iconic horror property in an entertaining and adventurous new light. And it happens to feature a ridiculously attractive cast all captured just as their pulchritudinous powers were peaking.

Meme-worthy: “My sexual orientation is the cast of ‘The Mummy’ (1999).”

A rising star at the time, Brendan Fraser was mostly known for comedic performances, and although he’d proven himself very capable with his shirt off in George of the Jungle (1997), he wasn’t necessarily at the top of anyone’s list for action-hero roles. But he is superlatively charming as dashing American adventurer Rick O’Connell. His fizzy chemistry with Weisz, playing the brilliant-but-clumsy Egyptologist Evie Carnahan, makes the film a legitimate romantic caper. The role proved to be a breakout for Weisz, then perhaps best known for playing opposite Keanu Reeves in the trouble-plagued action flop Chain Reaction, or for her supporting role in the Liv Tyler vehicle Stealing Beauty.

“90s Brendan Fraser is what Chris Pratt wishes he was,” argues Holly-Beth. “Please come back to us, Brendaddy. We need you.” begs Joshhh. “I’d like to thank Rachel Weisz for playing an integral role in my sexual awakening,” offers Sree.

Then there’s Oded Fehr as Ardeth Bey, a member of the Medjai, a sect dedicated to preventing Imhotep’s tomb from being discovered, and Patricia Velásquez as Anck-su-namun, Imhotep’s cursed lover. Both stupidly good-looking. Heck, Imhotep himself (South African Arnold Vosloo, coming across as Billy Zane’s more rugged brother), is one of the hottest horror villains in the history of cinema.

“Remember when studio movies were sexy?” laments Colin McLaughlin. We do Colin, we do.

Sommers directed a somewhat bloated sequel, The Mummy Returns, in 2001, which featured the cinematic debut of one Dwayne Johnson. His character got a spin-off movie the following year (The Scorpion King), which generated a bunch of DTV sequels of its own, and is now the subject of a Johnson-produced reboot. Brendan Fraser came back for a third film in 2008, the Rob Cohen-directed The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor. Weisz declined to participate, and was replaced by Maria Bello.

Despite all the follow-ups, and the enduring love for the first Sommers film, there has been a sadly significant dearth of movies along these lines in the two decades since it was released. The less said about 2017 reboot The Mummy (which was supposed to kick-off a new Universal Monster shared cinematic universe, and took a contemporary, action-heavy approach to the property), the better.

The Rock in ‘The Mummy Returns’ (2001).

For a long time, adventure films were Hollywood’s bread and butter, but they’re surprisingly thin on the ground these days. So it makes a certain amount of sense that nostalgia for the 1999 The Mummy continues to grow. You could argue that many of the superhero films that dominate multiplexes count as adventure movies, but nobody really sees them that way—they are their own genre.

There are, however, a couple of films on the horizon that could help bring back old-school cinematic adventure. One is the long-planned—and finally actually shot—adaptation of the Uncharted video-game franchise, starring Tom Holland. The games borrow a lot from the Indiana Jones films, and it’ll be interesting to see how much that manifests in the adaptation.

Then there’s Letterboxd favorite David Lowery’s forever-upcoming medieval adventure drama The Green Knight, starring Dev Patel and Alicia Vikander (who herself recently rebooted another video-game icon, Lara Croft). Plus they are still threatening to make another Indiana Jones movie, even if it no longer looks like Steven Spielberg will direct it.

While these are all exciting projects—and notwithstanding the current crisis in the multiplexes—it can’t help but feel like we may never again get a movie quite like The Mummy, with its unlikely combination of eye-popping CGI, old-fashioned adventure tropes and a once-in-a-lifetime ensemble of overflowing hotness. Long may love for it reign on Letterboxd—let’s see if we can’t get that average rating up, the old fashioned way. For Anwen.

Related content

How I Letterboxd with The Mummy fan Eve (“The first film I went out and bought memorabilia for… it was a Mummy action figure that included canopic jars”)

The Mummy (Universal) Collection

Every film featuring the Mummy (not mummies in general)

Follow Dom on Letterboxd

#the mummy #brendan fraser #stephen sommers #action adventure #fantasy adventure #action adventure film #the green knight #david lowery #dominic corry #letterboxd

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realcube · 3 years

Text

ARCADE

summary ★ she needs to get the action figure that's in the claw machine for her sister’s birthday, so saiki does her the favour of using his a telekinesis to win it...along with a few other favours.

trigger warning ★ gambling, god, swearing, fem!reader & reader has a younger sister

construction on the new arcade near pk academy had finally come to an end. the grand opening was today after school so of course, nendou suggested that they attend as a squad. usually, saiki tried to avoid getting roped into outings like this but for a change, he actually agreed without the need for any further prying. that's because the arcade was attached to a small cinema where they'd be premiering the latest action movie — based on the TV show adaptation of the game — 'Olfana's Story X-2'. as it turns out, a few months after saiki gave the game a shot, it became a craze and a massive hit among speed-runners. so from it's new-found popularity, they developed a TV show series which inevitably flopped so now they have created a movie. only the most elite people among the gaming community were allow to see it before the official release date and they all said it was incredible; but there was not a doubt in saiki's mind that they were being paid to sing it's praise. a crappy game turned into a crappy show, now adapted into a movie was sure to be crappy. so you may be wondering why he even wanted to view the movie if he was set on it being awful. Well, there are two simple answers; curiosity and the mystery. since it was so exclusive, he had yet to overhear spoilers through his telekinesis and he now had a germanium ring in his possession so he could watch the movie in peace. also, having played the game but not seen the show, he was curious to see how bad the movie is going to be and perhaps he'd be able to get a good laugh out of it. but he made the mistake of mentioning his plan to see the movie which screened a few hours after the opening of the arcade, as now kuboyasu, nendou and kaidou were all going to see the movie along with him. In theory, it shouldn't be a problem since he'll have his germanium ring on but in practise, the world seems to be against saiki so one of his friends will probably end up stealing his popcorn or chatting throughout the entire movie. he'll just have to wait and see. kaidou and nendou did not even stop to take breaths as they raced on about how excited they were while they were all walking to the arcade. "i'm sure the movie is going to be sick!" kaidou exclaimed, followed by rapid head nods from nendou as he replied, "yup! And i can't wait to see what sort of games they have!" saiki was a bit excited himself but he didn't care to show it like the others did. but when he saw the vaporwave building covered with bright neon lights come into view, his lips curled into a small smile. though it was short-lived as he noticed the massive queue to get in; it appeared as though they weren't the only ones who had the idea to visit the arcade after school as he noticed many familiar faces standing in line, amongst crowds of others. all of their cheery auras dissipated for a few moments until kuboyasu perked up, approaching the doors to the arcade with a smug smirk, cutting in front of everyone in the line and gesturing for the boys to follow him, "don't worry about the queue, guys. follow me." nendou followed without any further questions but saiki and kaidou were a bit apprehensive. all three of them watched as kuboyasu stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the guard by one of the doors, muttering something in the man's ear, causing him to sweatdrop and hesitantly open the door with a shaky smile; allowing all four of them inside. "woah, that was awesome, aren!" kaidou yelled, not only out of awe but so he could be heard over all the cheering, laughing and game noises from inside the arcade. "yeah, that was so cool! but what did you say to that guy? he looked freaked out!" nendou inquired, surprising saiki with his actually intelligent observation. kuboyasu's hand found it's way behind his neck, rubbing it awkwardly as he chuckled, "oh, nothing! it's not important-- hey! how about you guys start playing your games and i'll go get the tickets we reserved, yeah?" "yeah!" kaidou and nendou cheered in unison, high-fiving the purple-haired boy before the all ran off in different directions, leaving saiki standing alone at the entrance. he fidgeted with his germanium ring, contemplating taking it off as he stared at kuboyasu; he really wanted to know what the teen boy could've said that'd incite such fear into a grown man, but he decided against it — merrily making his way towards the claw machines, leaving kuboyasu's secrets alone. ★★★★★★★★★★ "shit." he cursed under his breath as he watched the cyborg cider man plushie that he's been trying to win — for yuuta — for half an hour straight slip out of his grasp once again. 'these things are rigged. and what's the point in having psychic superpowers if i can't use them.' he thought to himself but had to quickly shake off the idea, as there was no way he could risk using his powers in such a crowded place, especially for a plush that wasn't even for himself but rather for an annoying kid. he sighed, slipping another coin into the slot and about to find the right state of mind until he heard a loud "fuck!" from in front of him. his head jerked up, scanning the area for the source of the noise until his eyes landed on you. the claw machines were lined up, back-to-back, and playing on the machine diagonal from him was a girl with enchanting (e/c) eyes which contrasted greatly with her disheartened expression as she stared at the box. the only emotion she wore was sadness as she stared at the machine, so out of curiosity, saiki slipped off his ring in order to read her thoughts; feeling no guilt in listening to the affairs of a complete stranger. 'c'mon, stupid claw machine, i need this!' your silky yet whiny voice rung through his mind, 'what's she gonna think about me tomorrow when i tell her that i couldn't get her the gift she's wanted? she's gonna hate me- even more than she already does. and now i've spent all my money on this silly game so i can't even try get her a crappy gift with the little money i had. Wow, (y/n), you're the worst big sister in existence.' saiki cocked his head to the side, peering through the glass of the machines to see the contents of the claw machine you were standing in front of and when he saw the limited edition, silver cyborg cider man action figure sitting on a pedestal — almost as if it was taunting the poor girl — he finally connected the dots. your hand dug through your pockets until you found the smooth metal surface of your final coin, 'just once more try. if i win her this action figure, maybe she'll finally respect me as her big sister! and this toy will surely make her more happy than any gift mom could've possibly thought of. i'll make her sixth birthday one to remember!' the dejected look on your face slow lifted into a determined one, but it wasn't very convincing as saiki — and anyone else — could see the worry and shame in your eyes as you dropped your last coin into the slot of the machine, giving you one more chance to redeem yourself and claim the title of 'best big sister in the world'. saiki watched you maneuver the claw of the machine with bated breath, admiring how your pretty nose crinkled and your tongue poked out from the corners of your perfectly glossed lips in concentration — 'ew, stop being a simp, kusuo.' he mentally rebuked himself before engaging with your scene one again. your fist slammed down against the big red button, followed by the claw opening and lowering over the box of the cyborg cider man action figure, slowly closing it's jaws around the box and grasping it perfectly, resulting in a slight gasp to escape your throat as your lips pulled into a grin. the claw kept it's grip in the toy as it lifted up, slowly making it's way over the hole where it would drop the action figure, straight into your possession. that is, if the grip didn't falter hence allowing the toy to fall down, off it's pedestal and onto the bottom of the compartment to join the rest of the more average action figures. "fuck!" you screamed in an almost identical way to which you did earlier, expect this one held more pain. 'this can't be happening; is this the third year in a row that i'm going to show up to my little sister's birthday party empty-handed?' you thought, your bottom lips quivering so you quickly bit down on it, staring at the damned toy before turning on your heels, shuffling away from the game with your head hung low, the thoughts which cried in your head about how much you budgeted and how hard you worked made saiki's heart sink. 'maybe i could take out a mortga--' your thoughts were abruptly cut off when you heard the noise of something falling behind you. whipping your head around to see what happened, you exhaled a sigh of relief upon seeing nothing out of the ordinary. however, you caught a glimpse of inside the machine which you had been cursing at and realised that the toy wasn't with the packaging peanuts where you left it, as if it magically disappeared in the few seconds you had averted your gaze. creeping up to it, your gaze darted around in search of anyone who might've won it in less than 5 seconds but that was unlikely. now that you were closer, you peered through the glass once more to confirm that the toy was in fact missing and you were right. recalling the noise of falling you heard just before you turned around, you dropped to your knees and lifted the flap to the compartment which held the good that people would win from the machine. you almost screamed with delight and shock when you laid eyes on the limited edition, cyborg cider man action figure that was tucked snugly inside. yanking it out, you pressed it to your chest and the tears you were choking back finally came running down your cheeks, but now they were from joy. "thank you, god." you whispered to yourself, making saiki chuckle from his spot at the claw machine which he hadn't moved from. he wasn't god — nor was he friends with god — but he didn't mind not being able to take the credit for his kind actions of using his psychokinesis to drop the box into the hole for you. honestly, he found that seeing you happy, sitting on the floor with brightest beam gracing your features along with your now cheerful thoughts in his head, was enough of a reward for him anyway. also, he appreciated how you didn't question how the box ended up in the hole and instead you just deemed it a miracle as you were too overjoyed to use logic; that sort of thinking saved saiki a lot of trouble. 'i should probably go home and wrap this.' your internal monologue had now calmed down slightly as you were now able to produce a thought that wasn't just a squeal of delight, 'hm, maybe once i am done i could come back and see the new movie that's premiering-- but i've not got much money left so i guess i shouldn't get ahead of myself.' you hummed, picking up the box along with yourself, dusting yourself off before heading towards the exit. saiki must've been staring for a tad too long though as you caught his gaze while brushing off your clothes. he cringed, instinctively darting his eyes away so you didn't think he was an ogling creep but the fact he appeared defensive probably didn't help. so he fully expected you to frown or cast him a dirty look, judging him for his actions but to his surprise, you simply chuckled. waving at the pink-haired boy before strolling off with the box under your arm. 'he seems cool. where i can get clips like those?' why were you thoughts making him blush like an idiot? time to put the germanium ring back on. ★★★★★★★★★★ as it turns out, nendou is surprisingly good at poker. he figured this out after he stumbled across the casino section of the arcade, and since he looks way older than seventeen, nobody questions it when he took a seat at one of the slot machines, under the impression that it was a fancy, old-timey arcade game. he was then offered a round of poker with some old dude with way too many gold teeth and nendou ended up taking the poor, stubborn guy's entire fortune. god-knows how many games with how-many people later, nendou was sitting on stacks of cash at a round table with a tired dealer, and two grown men — one crying into the shoulder of his arm-candy and the other weeping into the sleeve of his suit — while the three boys who had came to give him his ticket stood by, all wearing matching confused expressions. "uh, nendou." kuboyasu tapped his friend on the shoulder, waving the ticket in front of his face, "the movie is gonna start soon, we should start heading over there right now so we can buy snacks and get good seats." nendou raised an eyebrow, puzzled until he recalled that he was supposed to watch a movie today, "oh, that sounds cool and all but i'm having a lot of fun right here." he smiled, motioning to the large casino area. kuboyasu chuckled awkwardly, backing away from nendou slightly as he turned on his heels, ushering the two other boys away, "alright, well, have fun, nendou! don't stay out too late!" nendou sung an okay in response, sliding a kaidou some cash for the extortionate theatre snacks before he was rushed away by kuboyasu, the purple-haried boy not wanting to spend anymore time in the casino than needed. "if nendou isn't joining us for the movie then we have a spare ticket. here, saiki, you should have it!" "why me?" "uh, because you said you saw reita earlier. so if you see him again maybe you could offer him the spare ticket." 'absolutely not.' was vocalised as "sure." by saiki as he took the ticket from kuboyasu's outstretched hand, fiddling with it before stuffing it into his pocket along with his own ticket. "what i said to nendou was kinda an exaggeration" aren mused, glancing at his watch before looking up at his two pals, "we still have some time left before the movie starts. i'm gonna go handle some business — you two have fun, and try find reita!" kuboyasu said before pivoting on his heels in the direction of the staff only closet. the only thing saiki could think to do during this free-time was escape kaidou's pestering to play dance dance revolution — since saiki didn't want to dance, dance or revolute, he darted outside as soon as kuboyasu left, leaving kaidou alone and confused in the middle of the arcade. 'finally, fresh air.' saiki inhaled, filling his lungs with the cool air rather than the stuffy, arcade oxygen. scanning the surrounding area, his eyes caught a glimpse of a figure standing by the ATM, which he immediately recognised to be that of the girl he had helped earlier. so naturally, he flicked of his ring to figure out the reasoning behind the awkward look on her face. 'do i really want to withdraw money to see some stupid movie? i mean, i could leave that money to accumulate and buy something nicer later.' without thinking, saiki hummed in agreement with your thoughts as he had been in your position many times before. 'but then again, i should treat myself! when was the last time i saw a movie that wasn't pirated? hmm..' your indecisive thoughts matched perfectly with your conflicted expression as you stared through furrowed brows at the screen of the ATM. a soft breeze passed, followed by something light smacking against you face. you winced slightly, your hand snapping your cheek and grabbing at whatever it was; just by the texture, you could tell it was paper. holding it in front of you, upon further inspection you realised that the mysterious sheet that had flew into your possession was in fact a ticket to tonight's showing of 'Olfana's Story X-2' row G, seat 9. you double, triple checked it out of fear that this may be a cruel prank but no, this was completely real! you cheered, bouncing up and down and away from the ATM since you no longer needed it's services as god had blew the desired item straight into your hands — or your face, rather. either way though, you were over the moon, clutching the ticket to your chest and basking in your second miracle of the day. unbeknownst to you, saiki's smile was almost as wide as your own. you thanked god for your relief and saiki had no problem with that; seeing your little happy dance and squeals with your free ticket was enough for him. but actually, perhaps he might benefit himself after all, since the ticket he had given you previous belonged to nendou. meaning that saiki was seated at row G, seat 10; right beside you. ★★★★★★★★★★ saiki forgot to send a few notes flying your way in the wind, so you walked into the theatre and took your seat, completely snackless since you couldn't afford the exorbitant prices that they sold food for at the cinema. but perhaps that wasn't all bad as it revealed the possibility for saiki to offer you some of his popcorn as a conversation-starter, as he's usually not too good at socialising with new people — forget starting a conversation. however, he didn't need to work up any sort of courage to talk to you as the first thing you did when you plopped down in your seat beside him was turn to him and chirp, "oh, you're the guy i saw at the claw machines earlier! i love your clip thingies." your buoyant-adrenaline allowing your to be more bold than usual. the movie had yet to start, low murmurs of chatter coming from across the theatre as the trailers played in the background, "yes. and thanks." 'good grief, curse myself for not being more talkative. she probably thinks i'm dull now. perhaps i should channel my inner nendou..if i have one.' instead of ending the conversation right there like he assumed you would, you continued talking and saiki was..glad? why did he want to interact with you so much? he spends most of his days trying to avoid interacting with people; why were you any different? "no problem- also, did you get what you were playing for?" you inquired, tapping your lip in genuine curiosity. his ring remained on his finger, despite the fact he wanted to know what you thought about him, he didn't want to invade your privacy any more than he already has. "no. did you?" "yeah, i did, actually!" you chirped, not noticing the smirk creeping onto saiki's lips as you were too engulfed in your memories, "i thought those games were rigged but maybe they're not 'cause i managed to win this super special action figure that my sister has been on the top of my sister's wishlist for like- forever! and her birthday is tomorrow so i'll be a--" you cut yourself off, crinkling your nose in embarrassment, "sorry, i'm over-sharing, aren't i?" your enthusiasm made his heart flutter in a way he wasn't used to, if you didn't know any better, he would have thought he was having a medical emergency. his eyes widened slightly as you halted in your speech, "no, you're fine." he said, the uncharacteristic softness in his voice catching the attention of his two pals sitting on the other side of him. you shook off his comment, "i mean, i'm telling you my life story and i don't even know your name." you said, laughing sheepishly at the reality of the reality of the situation.

“saiki kusuo.” he blurted out without a second thought.

you blinked a few times, shocked that he’d give his details away so easily as you somewhat expected him to be more of a reserved type of guy but evidently, you were wrong. “uh, i’m (l/n) (y/n).” you choked, biting down on your bottom lip slightly before continuing you story as he seemed to wait expectantly, “as i was saying, today’s just been the best day ever! everything has been going so well, i’m a bit scared as to what is going to happen when it hits midnight.”

saiki nodded along, popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth before remembering his plan, “oh- would you like some?” he asked, offering you some popcorn from his bucket. unfortunately, the plan was a last-minute thing so he had only bought a small, but he still wasn’t opposed to sharing.

you shook your head, trying to grin foolishly wide at his kind offer, “no thank you.”

saiki nodded, about to open his mouth to reply until the blaring music from the beginning of the movie started, putting a swift end to your conversation — despite the fact saiki would much rather talk to you than watch the crappy movie — out of theatre etiquette.

★★★★★★★★★★

it was worse than you or saiki could’ve ever imagined.

it was painfully trying not to burst out laughing right in middle of it or lean over and giggle in each other’s ear at the silly dialog but out of respect for the other people in the cinema, you both stayed silent and just cast each other occasional knowing glances whenever something cringey happened on screen.

you both let out audible sighs of relief with the credits began to roll, accompanied by a slow indie song. “that was..something.” you mumbled, grabbing your purse and jumping to your feet, wanting to exit the building as soon as possible and hopefully leave your memories of the movie behind you.

“definitely.” he snickered, absently flicking the side of his empty popcorn bucket, “i stopped paying attention once i finished my popcorn.” it felt weird to vocalise — or rather, telepathically communicate — the comments he’d usually keep to himself; why did he feel so comfortable speaking to someone he only just met?

he began gathering his things, stuffing all of his rubbish in the bucket so he could dispose of it all at once. his mind was fixated on crappiness of the movie and how a five-year-old could’ve shot a much better film, until you grabbed his attention by calling out his name, followed by a question which made him blood run cold.

“before i go, it gotta ask’ how’d you do it? or more importantly, why’d you do it?”

he blinked several times before putting on his best bewildered expression, with the idea that maybe if he played dumb, he could gaslight you into thinking that it never happened or that he had nothing to do with it. “what?”

“oh, don’t give me that!” you scoffed, narrowing your eyes at the boy, “i’m not stupid. every time something good happened to me, you were nearby. i’ve connected the dots so fess up. why did you do all those nice things for me? was it out of pity or are you that nice to everyone?”

“i’m that nice to everyone.”

“i don’t believe you.” you snapped, fixing your tone when you remembered that even though he was lying to you, he still helped you get the present for you sister and gave you his spare ticket. “i don’t care if you’re not gonna give me a straight answer, but at least let me make it up to you.”

he huffed, an unimpressed look covering his features before you even proposed your idea. there was really nothing he could possibly need from you. what were you going to give him that he wasn’t capable of obtaining on his own? so he frowned, ready to decline your offer.

“i saw that you bought one of those jelly pots from the snack stand and i actually work at a little café in the town, so i might be able to get you few things for free or discounted?”

“yes.” wait, that wasn’t refusal.

“great!” you chirped, glad that you wouldn’t have to pry further, “does later this week sounds good? we could meet up here then i can walk you to the café- or i could give you my number and we can arrange a date later?”

“sure.” saiki said without thinking once again.

but it wasn’t as though he regretted it when you slipped the piece of paper you had scribbled your number onto, into the front pocket of his shirt, tapping it with a smile. “alright! i’ll see you later then- unless you want to walk home with me?” you fidgeted with your fingers slightly, instantly regretting what you just came out with. not because you didn’t want to walk with him, but due to the fact you highly doubted he was going so say accept so you mentally prepared for the impact of his harsh rejection.

“sure.”

★★★★★★★★★★

BONUS

saiki ended up walking home with some girl he met at the theatre so that left kuboyasu and kaidou to fetch nendou once the film finished. they both searched the casino area for almost half an hour but neither of them had any luck finding nendou. that was, until kuboyasu had to take a step outside to escape the casino as he noticed an old friend of his playing on the slot machines, and he found nendou crouched by the garbage cans, on his phone.

“nendou! we’ve been looking all over for you- why are you out here by the trash? and what happened to all your money?!”

nendou chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with his spare hand, “fun story actually. i was doing so well and i was on my way to becoming a millionaire until these schoolgirls came marching in and absolutely slaughtered me! it was so embarrassing and the only way i could escape them was by running away so i hid back here.”

kuboyasu’s aura just screamed ‘disappointed but not surprised’, “so you’re telling me that you lost millions to highschool girls?”

“they might’ve been middle-schoolers, i’m not too sure. i didn’t get a very good look at ‘em but they were all wearing creepy red uniforms.”

all kuboyasu could do was massage his temples to ease his headache at the stupidity of his friends, “so you lost all your money to school girls in creepy red uniforms?” he repeated aloud, just to make sure he was hearing things correctly.

“yes. but not all my money.” he said, pulling out his wallet and grandly opening it to reveal a few notes and a button, “i’ve still got enough to spend on ramen with my bros!”

#the disaster of psi kusuo saiki #saiki headcanons #saiki kusuo no psi nan #saiki no psi nan #saiki k x reader #saiki x reader #kusou saiki #saiki imagines #kusuo x reader #kusuo saiki x reader #the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki k headcanons #psychic kusuo #kusuo saiki

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calzona-ga · 3 years

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In her unauthorized book, Lynette Rice explores the stories behind some of the ABC drama's biggest moments, including — in this exclusive excerpt — the factors that led to McDreamy's shocking death.

In How to Save a Life: The Inside Story of Grey’s Anatomy, author Lynette Rice recounts the ABC medical drama’s eventful 16-year history, revealing new details behind some of the show’s biggest departures. Included in the unauthorized, 320-page oral history (St. Martin’s Press, Sept. 21, $29.99) is a chapter that offers new insight into leading man Patrick Dempsey’s shocking exit in season 11 of the Shonda Rhimes-created drama. In the chapter, Rice speaks with Dempsey’s co-stars and exec producers who were present during filming of his final days on Grey’s Anatomy, and reveals claims of “HR issues” that contributed to the death of his alter-ego, Derek “McDreamy” Shepherd.

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“After 17 seasons, fans still can’t get enough of Grey’s Anatomy,” Rice tells THR. But what went down behind the scenes was just as dramatic as what viewers saw every Thursday. I’m excited for fans to read what I learned about those early days, along with what it was like to work for Shonda Rhimes, and why the drama was so freakin’ headline-prone.”

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(Reps for ABC, ABC Signature, Shondaland, and Dempsey declined comment on the reveals in Rice’s book.)

“He’s Very Dreamy, but He’s Not the Sun,” Or, How Grey’s Anatomy Loved — Then Learned to Live Without — Patrick Dempsey Ellen Pompeo may have played the titular role, but for many fans over many years, Patrick Dempsey was the real draw to Grey’s Anatomy. Some of it had to do with his celebrity: Dempsey was the most famous member of the original cast at the time of the pilot and brought with him quite a cult following from his 1987 movie Can’t Buy Me Love. But a lot of it was due to the way Rhimes wrote her McDreamy and how Dempsey depicted him. James D. Parriott I would say, “The guy would never say that,” and Shonda would say, “He’s McDreamy. He’s the perfect man. He would say that.” I’d say, “Okay. It’s your show.” Eric Buchman Shonda had a very clear idea of how important it was to keep Derek as this almost idealized love interest, not just for Meredith but for the audience. Naturally, the writers—especially writers who had been working on one-hour dramas for a while—were like, “Well, maybe have McDreamy make a big mistake in surgery and kill somebody. Or he develops an addiction of some kind. What is his deep, dark secret?” Shonda was very insistent: that’s not the character we do that with. Even when you find out he’s married, that was done in a very sympathetic way that kept him being a hero. He was wronged by his spouse and in spite of it all he was still gonna give his marriage a second chance. Stacy McKee Shonda was protective of McDreamy, but it was really with an eye toward being protective of Meredith. I don’t think the two were separate from one another. I don’t think she wanted to put something out there that maybe on the surface might seem a little frivolous. At its core, there was something really substantial that she wanted to say. She wanted to be very specific about the type of relationship values that she put out there. Tony Phelan I was in editing with Shonda once, and it was the scene where Meredith and Derek had broken up. He comes over and she’s like, “I can’t remember the last time we kissed.” And he says, “I remember. You were wearing this and you smelled of this …”

Joan Rater “Your shampoo smelled like flowers, you had that sweater on …” He described their last kiss. Tony Phelan Typically in editing you start on Derek, then you cut to Meredith for a reaction, and then you’ll go back to him. I noticed that we weren’t ever cutting back to Meredith. I asked why. Shonda said, “Because the woman in Iowa who’s watching this show wants to believe that Patrick is talking to her, and if you cut back to Meredith, it pushes them out of it.” In those special moments, we would just lock into Derek and let him do his thing. Joan Rater And he was a master at it. Patrick Dempsey He’s the ideal man, and that’s what Shonda constructed. There’s a projection [of him] onto me when you come in contact with fans, certainly with the younger and older fans. There is a certain amount of expectation. There is a responsibility to it. It made me grow, too. There were good qualities [of his] that you work on to obtain. Off camera, Dempsey was equally as charismatic to his fellow actors, crew members, and anyone who would come to visit the set. Lauren Stamile I was going in to meet him, and I remember I had this little cardigan sweater on and I took it off before I got into the room. Dempsey is one of those people—it’s almost like there’s a light shining around his body, and you feel like you’re the only person in the room. I got so hot and I remember saying, “Gosh, I would take off my sweater if I had one on because I’m so hot, but I took it off.” I was just babbling. He said, “You look nice,” and I said, “You look nicer.” I felt so awkward and he was so gracious and lovely. I was having a nervous breakdown. It’s like this “it” factor. I was like, God, whatever he has, I wish I had. I think it was very obvious how nervous I was, and he went out of his way to make sure he introduced me to everybody and made sure I felt comfortable, which he certainly didn’t have to do. But he did. Joan Rater He knew I had a giant crush on him, and he loved it. And when we’d go to table reads—I was an actress at one point in my life—they would always give me Meredith if Ellen wasn’t there. And I’d be getting my chicken tenders at craft services before the table read and he’d come up behind me and say, “Are you reading Meredith?” in my ear, like, so sexy. I’d be like, Oh my God. I mean, I could barely … I could not look at him. Tina Majorino I worked with Patrick a ton. I love him so much. We had a really great time working together. I think he’s such a great actor and he really made me laugh a lot. I feel like we had a good dynamic in scenes together, and it was always fun to play opposite him. Yes, he’s that charismatic in real life. Yes, his hair is that awesome. Yes, he is dreamy up close.

Chandra Wilson Patrick Dempsey will forever be known as Grey’s Anatomy’s McDreamy. Derek Shepherd is a permanent part of television history.

Norman Leavitt He is a big, personable guy.

Jeannine Renshaw We all love Patrick. Patrick is a sweetheart. If I saw him on the street, I’d give him a hug. I love the guy.

Mark Wilding I’ve always had a soft spot for Patrick. He really does try to do the right thing. Brooke Smith, who played Dr. Erica Hahn, remembers how Dempsey defended her when the decision was made to fire her from the show in 2008. Brooke Smith I remember calling him and saying, “Oh my God, they said they can’t write for me anymore, so I guess I’m leaving.” And he was like, “What are you talking about? You’re the only one they’re writing for.” Which at that time, it kind of did feel that way. But I guess someone didn’t like that. They gave me a statement [to release, about her departure] and I never said it. Patrick said that he actually took it out of his jacket on The Ellen DeGeneres Show and read the statement. He won’t let me forget it. He was like, “I defended you, see?” And it was true.

By season eleven, however, fans saw a disturbing break in MerDer’s once unbreakable bond. Six episodes had gone by without a peep from Derek, who was supposedly in Washington, D.C., where he had apparently made out with a research fellow. Fans began threatening to bolt if their hero didn’t return soon to Seattle. “I have never missed one episode,” wrote a fan on Dempsey’s Facebook page. “But I swear if [Rhimes] kills you off I’m done.” But there was a critical reason for Derek’s strange absence: behind the scenes, there was talk of Dempsey’s diva-like fits and tension between him and Pompeo. To help manage the explosive situation, executive producer James D. Parriott was brought back in to serve as a veritable Dempsey whisperer.

Patrick Dempsey [That] was the first year that I haven’t been in every episode. I [was] in every episode since the pilot— close to 250 episodes. That [was a] huge run. James D. Parriott Shonda needed an OG to come in as sort of a showrunner for fourteen episodes. There were HR issues. It wasn’t sexual in any way. He sort of was terrorizing the set. Some cast members had all sorts of PTSD with him. He had this hold on the set where he knew he could stop production and scare people. The network and studio came down and we had sessions with them. I think he was just done with the show. He didn’t like the inconvenience of coming in every day and working. He and Shonda were at each other’s throats.

Jeannine Renshaw There were times where Ellen was frustrated with Patrick and she would get angry that he wasn’t working as much. She was very big on having things be fair. She just didn’t like that Patrick would complain that “I’m here too late” or “I’ve been here too long” when she had twice as many scenes in the episode as he did. When I brought it up to Patrick, I would say, “Look around you. These people have been here since six thirty a.m.” He would go, “Oh, yeah.” He would get it. It’s just that actors tend to see things from their own perspective. He’s like a kid. He’s so high energy and would go, “What’s happening next?” He literally goes out of his skin, sitting and waiting. He wants to be out driving his race car or doing something fun. He’s the kid in class who wants to go to recess.

Patrick Dempsey It’s ten months, fifteen hours a day. You never know your schedule, so your kid asks you, “What are you doing on Monday?” And you go, “I don’t know,” because I don’t know my schedule. Doing that for eleven years is challenging. But you have to be grateful, because you’re well compensated, so you can’t really complain because you don’t really have a right. You don’t have control over your schedule. So, you have to just be flexible.

Longtime Crew Member Poor Patrick. I’m not defending his schtick. I like him, but he was the Lone Ranger. All of these actresses were getting all this power. All the rogue actresses would go running to Shonda and say, “Hey, Patrick’s doing this. Patrick’s late for work. He’s a nightmare.” He was just shut out in the cold. His behavior wasn’t the greatest, but he had nowhere to go. He was so miserable. He had no one to talk to. When Sandra left, I remember him telling me, “I should’ve left then, but I stayed on because they showed me all this money. They just were dumping money on me.”

Patrick Dempsey It [was] hard to say no to that kind of money. How do you say no to that? It’s remarkable to be a working actor, and then on top of that to be on a show that’s visible. And then on top of that to be on a phenomenal show that’s known around the world, and play a character who is beloved around the world. It’s very heady. It [was] a lot to process, and not wanting to let that go, because you never know whether you will work again and have success again.

Jeannine Renshaw A lot of the complaining … I think Shonda finally witnessed it herself, and that was the final straw. Shonda had to say to the network, “If he doesn’t go, I go.” Nobody wanted him to leave, because he was the show. Him and Ellen. Patrick is a sweetheart. It messes you up, this business.

James D. Parriott I vaguely recall something like that, but I can’t be sure. It would have happened right toward the end, because I know they were negotiating and negotiating, trying to figure out what to do. We had three different scenarios that we actually had to break because we didn’t know until I think about three days before he came back to set which one we were going to go with. We didn’t know if he was going to be able to negotiate his way out of it. We had a whole story line where we were going to keep him in Washington, D.C., so we could separate him from the rest of the show. He would not have to work with Ellen again. Then we had the one where he comes back, doesn’t die, and we figure out what Derek’s relationship with Meredith would be. Then there was the one we did. It was kind of crazy. We didn’t know if he was going to be able to negotiate his way out of it. It was ultimately decided that just bringing him back was going to be too hard on the other actors. The studio just said it was going to be more trouble than it was worth and decided to move on.

Stacy McKee I don’t think there was any way to exit him without him dying. He and Meredith were such an incredibly bonded couple at that point. It would be completely out of character if he left his kids. There was no exit that would honor that character other than if he were to die. Patrick Dempsey I don’t remember the date [I got the news]. It was not in the fall. Maybe February or March. It was just a natural progression. And the way everything was unfolding in a very organic way, it was like, “Okay! This is obviously the right time.” Things happened very quickly. We were like, “Oh, this is where it’s going to go.”

So that was that: McDreamy would die in episode twenty-one of season eleven, even though Dempsey was in year one of his recently signed two-year contract extension. Rhimes wrote a script that was befitting of her lead’s heroic persona: she began “How to Save a Life” by having Derek witness a car crash and helping the injured. Once it appeared everyone was out of harm’s way, Derek continues on his road trip but is suddenly broadsided by a truck.

Rob Hardy (Director) The paramedics leave. He’s there by himself. He’s having a moment. The nice music is playing, and all of a sudden, bang. It comes out of nowhere, which, you know, is how accidents happen. So as opposed to watching it as a viewer, we saw the accident happen through Derek’s perspective. Derek ends up at Dillard Medical Center, a hospital far from Grey Sloan and the talented doctors who work there. His eyes are open, but his brain is severely damaged. No one hears his plea for a CT scan; he can’t speak. To help keep the episode a secret, the scenes were shot in an abandoned hospital in Hawthorne, California, about twenty-two miles from the show’s home studio in Los Feliz.

Mimi Melgaard It was really hard on all of us because it was so secretive and we had so many different locations. We shot at this closed-down hospital that was absolutely creepy haunted. All the scenes there were so sad anyway, and in this yucky-feeling haunted hospital? It was really weird. His whole last episode was really tough. Patrick Dempsey It was like any other day. It was just another workday. There was still too much going on. You’re in the midst of it—you’re not really processing it. Rob Hardy Here’s a guy who’s immobile. Now you’re inside of his head. We were trying to make that feel scary from the perspective of a person who’s used to being in control, from a person who usually has the power of life and death in his own hands. But now he doesn’t have the ability to speak on his own behalf.

Samantha Sloyan When I went to audition, I didn’t recognize any of these doctors’ names. I assumed they were just dummy sides so people wouldn’t ruin the story line or anything like that. All we knew is that we were dealing with a man who’s been in a car accident. I had no idea that it was going to be Derek. I just figured I was going to be a guest doctor and that whoever this person was who was injured, was going to be just a character on the show. Once it became clear what we were working on, I was like, Oh, my gosh. I can’t believe this is the episode I’m on.

Mike McColl (Dr. Paul Castello) I signed an NDA before they would release the script to me. I was reading it in my house, and I was like, “Oh, my God.” I didn’t tell anyone, including my agents. I just said, “This is a really great booking. It’s a great role on Grey’s.” And they didn’t know anything until it aired.

Savannah Paige Rae (Winnie) The first scene I shot was actually the sentimental scene when I’m saying, “It’s a beautiful day to save lives, right?” I’m in the hospital room with Derek and talking to him. Even though I never watched the show, I recognized the value of the episode I was in and just really took it to heart. It was so special that I got to be a part of it.

Rob Hardy [Patrick] had a lot of emotions during the whole shoot, which evolved. I think when we first started, he was very calm and cool … the same Patrick that I remembered when I worked on the show a year or so before. With each passing day, he was a lot more emotional. A lot more was on his mind, and that would show itself in different ways. The finality of the episode and for his character was setting in. You’ve become a global icon on this show and then in five, four, three, two, a day … it’s over.

James D. Parriott Patrick was very cooperative and good.

Mike McColl When I met Patrick, he’s lying on a stretcher and we’re rushing him into the ER. I just introduced myself, shook his hand, and was like, “Man, I cannot tell you what an honor it is to be the guy to take you down.” He loved it. He could not have been nicer to me and was funny through the whole shoot. He was on the table in front of me there when I cut his chest open and all that stuff. He gave me a hug at the end. It was a real privilege to be a part of TV history in that way.

Samantha Sloyan I remember him being incredibly kind. They had his neck in a brace, and he’s strapped down to the board, so there wasn’t a ton of chatting. I remember him being really kind, but it was clearly intense for him.

Stacy McKee It was such a beautiful piece of storytelling. I knew this event was going to be a really sad, horrible event for Meredith, but I also knew it was going to be the beginning of such an incredible chapter for Meredith.

Dempsey completed his final hours of shooting on a rainy night. There was no goodbye party, no goodbye cake. Maybe that’s because some cast members were left out of the loop. James Pickens, Jr., told ABC News that the cast “didn’t know a whole lot. It was kind of on the fly. So whatever information we got, we pretty much got it kind of right before it happened.”

Caterina Scorsone (Dr. Amelia Shepherd) I didn’t get to say goodbye to Patrick when he left. I do think that helped, because I’ve been using the character of Derek in my internal landscape since Private Practice. Derek was the stability in Amelia’s life. He became a father figure after they watched robbers shoot their father. When he was suddenly gone from the show, we didn’t have that closure, so I got to play it out. She’s about to use drugs again before Owen confronts her in a way that she finally talks about her feelings about losing Derek. She doesn’t end up using.

James D. Parriott The day he left, that was my last day. There was a certain sadness to it, but I think he was relieved. I mean, I think it took a toll on him, too.

Rob Hardy I didn’t see other actors showing up and saying, “Hey, it’s the last day! Wanted to come and wish you well.” I didn’t get that. It was more the Patrick show. We were in the Patrick world, and then Ellen came, and there was definitely a lot of emotion that both of them had individually … not necessarily together. It was more so her being there on the day that he died. He had his own way of being with that, and the same thing with her. It was like two people who grew up together and … here we are. They had their own way of reflecting.

Patrick Dempsey I very quietly left. It was beautiful. It was raining, which was really touching. I got in my Panamera, got in rush-hour traffic, and two hours later I was home. Big news like this doesn’t stay quiet for long. Both Michael Ausiello—who left EW in 2010 to launch the news site TVLine—and Lesley Goldberg of The Hollywood Reporter learned two weeks prior to Dempsey’s final episode that he would be leaving the show. No reporter worth their salt wants to sit on a scoop—least of all one as huge as this—but Ausiello and Goldberg didn’t want to spoil the outcome for fans, so they agreed to hold the story until after the episode aired. I eventually found out, too, but in the nuttiest way imaginable: I was standing on the set of CSI: Cyber, watching Patricia Arquette talk about some droll techno-criminal. Unfortunately, the publicist also cc’d Dempsey’s manager and ABC publicist while trying to give me a major story, so I couldn’t immediately report the scoop. But I did use the information to successfully negotiate the one and only exit interview with Dempsey. Two weeks before his final episode, I met him and his publicist at Feed Body & Soul in Venice, California, for a story that would hit newsstands on April 24. He seemed a little shell-shocked and at one point choked up, but at the time he said nothing about how his on-set behavior may have contributed to his ouster. My editor, Henry Goldblatt, wanted to put him on the cover of Entertainment Weekly, but he couldn’t guarantee to ABC that no one would see it before the episode aired. Good thing we didn’t: some subscribers got the issue on the morning of Dempsey’s final episode— and one actually tweeted the story. Our PR department tried to get the tweets removed, but the cat was out of the bag: some fans found out early that McDreamy was about to be McHistory. Outlets like Variety reported how the story got out early, while our PR department released this statement: “We are surprised that an EW subscriber may have received their issue a day earlier than planned. We always try our best to bring readers exclusive news first. We would like to apologize to fans of the show that learned the news ahead of time.” Dempsey’s final episode was watched by 8.83 million viewers—the show’s largest audience since the premiere that season. Variety even pontificated whether the ratings boost was due to my exclusive with Dempsey.

Lesley Goldberg (The Hollywood Reporter) I’m used to working with networks to hold news as part of their efforts to guard against plot spoilers. But the way Patrick Dempsey’s exit was handled involved a layer of paranoia and secrecy that has been unlike anything I’ve seen in my reporting career. News that he was leaving, and his character being killed off, would have been a major story considering how big the show is domestically and internationally. However, it also would have meant spoiling the episode and, more important, damaging key relationships I’ve worked hard to build. At some point, publishing the news of Dempsey’s exit before the episode aired became an ethical question of what was more important—a big story and its subsequent traffic, which would have come no matter what, or the relationships and trust that it took years to craft. Ultimately, I still published early because EW subscribers received the issue with Lynette’s Dempsey interview before the episode aired.

Mike McColl The morning after Derek’s last episode aired, my daughter sent me a link that was on YouTube or Facebook or something. I actually pulled it up to look at it, and it was a Grey’s Anatomy showbiz cheat sheet. It asked the question “Who is the attending doctor who killed Derek ‘McDreamy’ Shepherd?” It included a photo that I posted from the set. I had on a bloody rubber glove and was in my scrubs and mask. I never obviously would have posted this before it aired. I posted it well after the episode aired, and I [captioned it] “McDeadly.” This writer said something like, “Kill McDeadly.” Maybe that’s why the producer didn’t choose a big-name actor to be the one who killed our beloved McDreamy! I want to be ultrasensitive to these hard-core fans because it means so much to them, and I certainly didn’t mean in that case to make light of it. It’s just, I’m an actor, and I recognize it for what it is. Is everybody clear on the fact that this is just pretend and Patrick knew he was going to be leaving the show? It was just like, “God. He’s okay. He really is okay.”

Peter Horton Derek was going to be there forever with Meredith because you went through a whole journey with them. That was incredibly fulfilling. So even if he’s not there, he’s there. I don’t think any of us really worried about that going away because by then you were so invested in it. The show can last as it has for years.

Patrick Dempsey Lots of people [miss him]. “It’s good to see you alive” is the comment I get. I’m like, “Yes, I’m very much alive in reruns.” People were really invested in that relationship. I knew it would be heavy. Very happy to have moved on with a different chapter in my life.

Samantha Sloyan The montage just killed me, when Meredith says, “It’s okay, you can go.” God, I’m getting choked up just thinking about it. The chemistry they have as a pair and the way they were able to build that and sustain it! So many of these relationships are, like, “Will they, won’t they,” and then it wears thin. They sustained it for the duration of their relationship on the show, and it’s just, I think, a testament to what those two created. It was just unbelievable.

Pompeo addressed Dempsey’s departure with a tweet that focused solely on his character, not on how she spent eleven years working side by side with him: “There are so many people out there who have suffered tremendous loss and tragedy. Husbands and wives of soldiers, victims of senseless violence, and parents who have lost children. People who get up every day and do what feels like is the impossible. So it is for these people and in the spirit of resilance [sic] I am honored and excited to tell the story of how Meredith goes on in the face of what feels like the impossible.” Meanwhile, fans futilely created a Change.org petition to reinstate McDempsey, while other, more desperate ones simply tweeted “We Hate You” to Rhimes.

Shonda Rhimes Derek Shepherd is and will always be an incredibly important character—for Meredith, for me, and for the fans. I absolutely never imagined saying goodbye to our McDreamy. Patrick Dempsey’s performance shaped Derek in a way that I know we both hope became a meaningful example— happy, sad, romantic, painful, and always true—of what young women should demand from modern love. His loss will be felt by all.

Talk about the mother (father?) of all postscripts: In November of 2020 Dempsey reprised his role as McDreamy in the season opener—but only in Meredith’s dreams. Stricken with COVID-19, an unconscious Meredith “imagined” reuniting with her husband on the beach. After talking exclusively to Deadline and saying how it was “really a very healing process, and really rewarding,” Dempsey would return for more beach-based episodes that would ultimately stand out as the best moments of season seventeen. “It was a second chance thing,” one ABC executive told me at the time. “Shonda likes a comeback. Also, they wanted him in their last season.”

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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 292: You Say Jeans

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “well anyway here’s that Touya reveal I foreshadowed like a million years ago, viva la 2020.” Dabi was all “hello world, I’ve killed 30 people and today I’m going to explain to you all why” before he proceeded to explain ABSOLUTELY NOTHING but everyone was so distracted by his tale of child abuse and hero conspiracies that they didn’t much seem to notice. Can’t Ya See-Kun’s Shark Friend was all “IS THIS THE END OF HERO SOCIETY AS WE KNOW IT”, and Horikoshi was all “STAY TUNED”, and then Dabi set himself on fire and leaped off of Machia’s back like the chaotic evil, I-just-bleached-all-my-brain-cells weird little fire man he is, ready to burn everyone to crispy bits before they could even react properly to his whole big revenge speech. Fortunately he did not succeed on account of THE RETURN OF THE JING, THE JOAT, BEST FUCKING JEANIST, back from the dead by popular demand in what critics are calling “the best fucking comeback since Jesus himself.”

Today on BnHA: Best Jeanist snatches up Machia and the rest of the League with his fiber steel cables before you can say “more like BEAST JEANIST amirite.” Dabi gets all worked up and lights Hadou on fire which is a real JERK MOVE, and is all “THIS RIGHT HERE IS ALSO ENDEAVOR’S FAULT”, which, NOT SUPER CONVINCED ON THAT, BUT OKAY. Anyway so then he burns up all the cables holding him which is crazeballs btw, and then he and Shouto start fighting, and so basically the whole thing is a literal hot mess and we’ll see how that goes. Meanwhile Tomura wakes up and summons some Noumus, and poor Jeanist has to deal with those on top of the still-attempting-to-rampage Gigantomachia, and everyone else is all “we can’t help you on account of we’re all half dead”, and so it’s looking really bad. And then -- and I can’t stress enough how much I don’t even have the faintest idea how to segue into this next part -- the chapter ends with Mirio!?! just sort of POPPING UP OUT OF THE GROUND all, “SURPRISE, BITCH”, and it literally was so surprising that I am still just kind of speechless. WELL-PLAYED, I GUESS, lol wtf.

lol okay so the first page in the RHA scan is just the “three musketeers” movie promo image that we all already saw a few days ago. but it does confirm that (a) it is indeed a movie, and (b) that it’s set for a summer 2021 release! how exciting

okay so now back to our special Dabi edition of Making a Murderer

“ray of hope” oh hell yes. SAVE US MR. JEANIST

I guess he had a TV in his private hero jet or something?

gotta say, “dammit Dabi” does not even remotely sound like Authentic Best Jeanist Dialogue to me though. gonna need Caleb to see to this. well but what do you guys think? does Best Jeanist curse?? I personally feel like he’s one of those guys who NEVER EVER swears no matter what, except under the most hilariously trifling circumstances. like he’s eating an avocado one day and he accidentally stains the cuffs of his beloved jostume green and he’s all “FUCK”

btw how fucking rich is Best Jeanist though that he has his own fucking plane? the thought just suddenly occurred to me, you know? like even Endeavor, whose agency has its own on-site luxury apartment suites for all of his interns, still drives around in a dinky little car that Bakugou has declared to be too small. which, I guess we know why he felt that way now, seeing as the guy he previously interned with apparently gets around in Jeans Force One

anyway so back to the part where Jeanist shows up to save the day!! YEAH JEANIST WOOOOO

ILU JEANIST YOU REALLY ARE THE BEST!! HUGS AND KISSES!!!

lmao we just saw Gigantomachia take out like a hundred guys not ten chapters ago. and Best Jeanist shows up and takes him down in like two seconds. HOW DO YOU LIKE THEM APPLES LEAGUE OF VILLAINS. BET YOU’RE WISHING YOU’D TAKEN HIS QUIRK NOW, AFO. GET FUCKED YOU OLD SPUD

KACCHAN IS SO HAPPY TO SEE HIM AWW

SIDE NOTE, IIDA, YOU AND I ARE GONNA HAVE WORDS LATER ABOUT YOU ACTUALLY AGREEING TO PUT HIM BACK DOWN. YOU DO UNDERSTAND THAT THIS CHILD IS STILL DRIPPING BLOOD ALL OVER THE PLACE FROM HIS MULTIPLE STAB WOUNDS, RIGHT? WAY TO ASSERT YOUR AUTHORITY THERE. I THOUGHT YOU WERE THE CLASS PRESIDENT NOT THE CLASS CLOWN, COME ON NOW

LMAO DABI IS FRANTICALLY TRYING TO DO THE PLOT MATH

SHOULDA CHECKED MORE CLOSELY MY GOOD MARK. LOOKS LIKE YOU MISSED THE “MADE IN CHINA” STICKER ON THE BOTTOM. YOU HAVE BEEN BAMBOOZLED. OR ACTUALLY, I GUESS THE MORE ACCURATE WORD HERE IS JAMBOOZLED, AHAHAHAHA. JEANS

HOLY SHIT DABI

I legit almost thought that was Tomura for a second. you two look so alike now with the white hair and the crazy eyes

meanwhile, Shouto is still crying and it’s a lot to take, you guys. lotta feels

ffff come on Jeanist you better do something awesome again here, the mood of the chapter is starting to slip now

YES, GOOD, THAT’LL WORK

WELL YOU TELL ME, SPINNER. I GUESS THAT MEANS BEST JEANIST IS OFFICIALLY THE STRONGEST CHARACTER IN THE SERIES NOW. SORRY I DON’T MAKE THE RULES

ffff now Spinner is trying to wake Tomura back up. nah, how’s about we not do that

OH MY GOD HADOU YESSSS

MY GIRL OUT HERE WITH THE “NO THANK YOU” BOUT TO CURBSTOMP THE BIG BAD WITH HER QUIRK KSFHLKLK WHO HERE HAD “HADOU SAVES THE DAY” ON YOUR WAR ARC BINGO CARDS, YOU LOVE TO SEE IT!!

HEY!!!!

fucking son of a... fffkfkff... someone please reassure me that fire isn’t Hadou’s weakness. someone. anyone. also could someone please dial an ambulance and send them to Horikoshi’s house. but not just yet. first I’m gonna need you to wait about fifteen minutes or so while I take care of some things

well all right then, Dabi. so you wanna go on then and explain to us all how this, too, is somehow Endeavor’s fault?

oh I see, you’ve decided that since he’s responsible for “creating” you, everyone you hurt and kill is in truth really being hurt and killed by him! well now, that sure is convenient as fuck I guess

(ETA: that’s a nice effect with the panel sides getting all warped by Dabi’s quirk though, just noticed that.)

amazing how quickly you used up that sympathy card my guy. Shouto please kick his ass, I’m fucking done lol, you can all sort out the rest in therapy later

CAN SOMEONE PLEASE DIAL BACK DEKU’S EMPATHY STATS JUST A LITTLE BIT, HOLY --

“TODOROKI-KUN IS HURT THE MOST”, HE SAYS, WITH HIS ARM BONES SHATTERED INTO LITTLE TOOTHPICK-SIZED PIECES. I MEAN, HE’S PROBABLY TALKING MORE ABOUT MENTAL ANGUISH GIVEN THE CONTEXT HERE, BUT STILL. THAT’S ENOUGH HEROICS FROM YOU ALREADY FOR ONE DAY

NOOO JEANIST

LOTS OF SMOKE IN THE AIR RIGHT ABOUT NOW AND MY BOY’S STILL DOWN A LUNG. GOD DAMMIT

“if the number one suffers a total loss here, this country will fall to pieces” well okay, real talk though, I think the “country falling to pieces” part is pretty much unavoidable at this juncture. you all are just gonna have to try your best to pick up those pieces after the fact and see what you can do with them. if I were you I’d be less worried about the number one’s reputation and more concerned with the half-dozen child soldier interns who are still on the field and very much at risk of being burned to death should you suffer that “total loss.” please try to keep it together here for them

OH FOR FUCK’S

I really thought RockLockRock was gonna come into play here. USE YOUR QUIRK TO LOCK THE ROPES IN PLACE YOU DIP!! if he seriously just sits there and does nothing when his quirk could be the deciding factor I am cancelling his useless ass cute kid or no cute kid shfkjdls

(ETA: is he even there?? did he and Manual just hightail it out of there?? “well good luck, children.”)

also, we’ll put this aside for now to perhaps speculate about later, but what’s with Tomura remembering his dad’s house yet again in that far right panel?? and being itchy again?? I still have yet to fully work out the psychological mechanisms at work as far as his itchiness goes, so I’ll admit this is intriguing to me. it seemed like it was connected to his decay quirk, but then why is it acting up again now. what is this lol

yuh oh

forgot about these guys. looks like these heroes aren’t having such a fun time

oh fucksticks

excuse me ma’am but I don’t like this. you do know that my kids are all there, right. all burnt and impaled and broken-boned and the like. well except for Iida. he’s fine still. BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN I FEEL LIKE WATCHING HIM GET TORN APART BY FOUR HIGH ENDS, WTF

HORIKOSHI YOU MOTHERFUCKER I SWEAR TO GOD

god fucking... okay look. Horikoshi. you win, okay!? congratulations, you win, this is your show and we’re all just sitting here at your mercy. fine. go ahead and just kill off everyone ever, then!! what am I even gonna do about it. stop reading?? fuck

this whole thing really went from zero to fucked before I could even blink huh. I really thought this was gonna be a turning point chapter for the heroes. shows what I know I guess??

meanwhile this motherfucker is just SCREAMING

ngl, if I wasn’t currently terrified on account of things suddenly taking such a drastic turn for the worse, this would be the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Jeanist my man, I hype you up like it’s my job because you are the greatest fucking meme character in the history of time, but make no mistake, you are also highkey WORTH ALL THE HYPE AND THEN SOME

seriously, though. don’t fucking mind him you guys, he’s just standing here in the coolest pose of all time taking on Gigantomachia all alone with one fucking lung because the substance pumping through his veins is COLD-BLOODED LIQUID DENIM, and DENIM FEELS NO FEAR

Best Jeanist really needs to get his own theme song. -- oh my god I just finally thought of a title for this post. lmao and it’s the dumbest thing. omg

MEANWHILE THE TODOROKI BROS ARE OFF IN THEIR OWN DRAMATIC LITTLE FIRE WORLD

which one do you think is the Mario and which is the Luigi. well, but I mean, Dabi clearly thinks that he’s the Luigi though and that’s why he’s so mad. nobody wants to be Luigi. what a life

THAT’S IT, SHOUTO!! POINT OUT ALL OF HIS HYPOCRITICAL BULLSHIT, I WANT ANSWERS

JUST TO CLARIFY, IT’S THAT NATSU, NOT SOME OTHER NATSU!! SO WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF!!

OH, WELL IN THAT CASE

BUT OF COURSE. THAT WOULD MAKE IT ALL WORTHWHILE, holy shit. okay I’m just gonna go ahead and say it, Dabi is a piece of work. I really thought this arc would make him more sympathetic at long last, but it seems like it’s doing just the opposite?? this is like an anti-redemption arc. I don’t relish the thought of venturing into the fandom tags once I finish reading this lol

(ETA: well folks, I’ve done it. and actually it was pretty interesting because there are apparently like ten different things that people are mad about, and so it’s like. each post is a new adventure lmao.)

so Shouto is all “BRUH HAVE YOU COMPLETELY LOST IT” and Dabi is all “YES”, basically? like, he says he’s completely lost his feeling for anything. omg. but you were so sweet. how does that even happen

“finally I can kill you” okay for real what the heck is your damage bro?? can we not. I like Shouto just the way he is, un-killed

oh shit and now the Noumus are here

cue Bakugou diving in to save his mentor, STAB WOUNDS BE DAMNED!! actually it would make more sense for it to be Iida, but if Kacchan is really fixin’ to go full Shounen Dumbass here then he might as well go all out, y’know

-- unless of course, Deku decides to activate another quirk??

“last I checked, the main character of this series was still me” OH? WELL I SUPPOSE THAT IS TRUE, SO PRAY TELL, WHAT HAVE YOU GOT LEFT UP YOUR SLEEVE YOU SUICIDAL BRUSSELS SPROUT

fucking love how he’s all “HAHAHA WITH MY NEW QUIRKS I CAN STILL DO STUPID SHIT EVEN WITH MY ARMS AND LEGS GROUND TO A FINE POWDER” btw. what can I say. Deku gonna Deku

FMMFHDKUHK W H A T

HOLY SHIT. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. WHAT THE WHAT. QUE THE FUCK

(ETA: okay look, all the love in the world to the brave scanlators who take time out of their lives to translate the leaks every week just so we can read the chapter a couple of days early like the addicts we are. that said, translating Mirio’s signature “POWER!!” -- which was already written in English in the original scan -- to “POG-CHAMP” is just a whole new level of wtfuckery from them lmao. is the Lida person back at it again?? amazing.)

MIRIO!?!?! SHOWS UP TO SAVE THE DAY?!?! POGS HIMSELF UP OUT THE GROUND TO BEAT THE NOUMUS LIKE IT AIN’T NO THING. JUST LIKE WE ALL PREDICTED!? I’M SORRY, DID YOU NOT SEE THAT COMING?? YOU MEAN TO TELL ME YOUR DAILY HOROSCOPE FROM ASTROLOGY DOT COM DIDN’T HAVE THAT ONE IN THE CARDS?? WAS IT NOT OBVIOUS?? TODOROKIS PLUS BEST JEANIST EQUALS MIRIO??

hot damn. Tintin really saw the writing on the wall with the impending Dabi Discourse and was all “NOT SO FAST” lmao. “HERE’S A BRAND NEW THING FOR YOU ALL TO DISCOURSE ABOUT” MIRIO YOU WILD CHILD. YOU GLORIOUS THUG

MEANWHILE LET’S NOT FORGET WHAT MIRIO HAVING HIS POWERS BACK ACTUALLY IMPLIES. HOLY SHIT. SUDDENLY WE CUT BACK TO ALL MIGHT’S OFFICE, ALL THE WAY BACK AT UA. ERI BRANDISHES HER TOKOYAMI-GIFTED BUSTER SWORD, A DETERMINED GLEAM IN HER EYE. “I HEARD YOU WERE TRYING TO HAVE A GIRL POWER ARC WITHOUT ME.” OH. MY. GOD

#bnha 292 #best jeanist #todoroki touya #dabi #todoroki shouto #midoriya izuku #hadou nejire #toogata mirio #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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negandarylsatisfaction · 3 years

Text

[SUMMARY: PREAPOCALYPSE. Negan lies to Lucinda about not being able to have children. She takes matters into her own hands and during a sexual encounter makes him finish inside her. (Inspired by Bridgerton series)

Smut

TW: rape/ non con

Negan and Lucinda

Negan and you had met almost a year ago. Being a manager at a supermarket he shopped at, he always made it a point to act like he had something to talk to the manager about. Eventually asking you out on a date, in time the two of you had become serious with each other.

"How does this look?" You asked Negan as you placed a small frame of seashells in the bathroom.

"Well...you sure gave the place a womans touch," his response making you laugh.

The two of you enjoyed dinner together and a movie at home. A commerical of a pregnant woman came up and it made you smile. Children was something you had already been thinking about with Negan. The conversation had never really been spoken of as you noticed Negan would react strangely to the topic.

"Negan...dont you ever think we're missing something?" The question instantly making him clear his throat, he knew where this conversation was going.

"Not at all, sweetheart. What could we be missing? We're fucking great."

"I know we're great...but I still think we can be greater." Remaing silent he took a sip of his beer making you sigh.

"Negan dont you want to have children?" The question making him choke on his drink.

"Lucinda..that's a conversation for another time."

"What other time, you cant just tell me if you want children or not?" With a serious expression he ignored your question watching the show, his reaction making you annoyed.

"Come on Negan. It's not like we will make one at this moment, you cant just answer the question?"

"Lucinda-"

"You never want to talk about this and it's not fair to me, this is something that we should've spoken about long ago."

"Lucinda!" He suddenly yelled as he stood up in frustration.

"Lucinda. I fucking cant." He looked away as you frowned in confusion.

"What do you mean you cant?" You looked up at him as he turned his back to you with his hands on his hips.

"Lucinda I cant get you pregnant."

"But....I dont understand.." you looked down puzzled. If Negan could not get you pregnant, why did he always pull out every time he had sex with you? What was the point in that.

"What's there not to understand?" He aggresivly turned back to you, clear frustration buried within him.

"I can't give you a damn baby. Now drop it."

Never had Negan spoken to you in such a way. It wasnt fair for him to drop something of this magnitude on to you and just want it dropped without conversation. Leaving you alone in the living room you still wondered how accurate what he said was. You could feel it in you, something did not sound right.

After giving him some time to cool off you approached the bedroom. He lay with one hand behind his head, his eyes on the tv.

"Come here." He unexpectedly spoke shutting the television off. Walking into the room, slowly he pulled you into bed beside him and began kissing you.

"I dont like arguing with you." His deep voice penetrated your ears as he kissed your neck. His hand roaming over your thighs as he nibbled on your ear lobe. Before you knew it both of your clothes were off and Negan was on top of you. Passionately thrusting into you, you moaned against his lips. Gripping tightly onto his back as he continued to move, you could hear him breathing heavily against you. Usually when Negan finished you were either on your back or your knees, today you insisted on trying something different. Knowing his body language and the sounds he'd make when he was close to cumming you waited beneath him as he slammed into you. Screaming against him Negan cursed to himself. It was obvious he was trying his best not to blow. Without him expecting it, you rolled yourself over on top of him and began to ride him. If Negan really couldnt have children you didnt see why your plan would be a problem at all. He looked down at the sight of you hopping on his cock, you noticed him begin to break a sweat.

"Lucinda-" he groaned and you knew this was it, he was about to cum.

"Lucinda...get off.." you felt his hands on your hips attempt to pull you off but the feel of you riding him faster weakened him. Negan turned as red as you had ever seen him as he moaned loudly. Squeezing his eyes shut and tightly grabbing onto your thighs his deep moans filled the room.

"Fuck-" you felt his hips uncontrollably jerk up against you as you slowed down. Throwing his head back, you stopped your movement until he weakly looked down at you.

"Shit....why did you do that?" He asked breathlessly as you remained still on top of him. You could still feel his cock throbbing inside you. The feeling was something you had never felt before and god did it feel amazing. But, the shocked expression in his eyes distracted you from completely enjoying it.

"What's wrong?" You whispered.

"Get up." He responded bluntly making you feel confused. Without saying a word you stood up and watched him put a towel around his waist and light a cigarette.

"Negan?"

"I'll go to the pharmacy and get you that fucking pill." He spoke in a dry tone as you covered yourself up with the blanket.

"What pill?"

"That morning after shit."

"Why would I need one?" You responded stepping close to him. Your question making him look at you at a loss for words.

"Negan....why would I need one? Unless.....unless-" you frowned as you came to realization that Negan had lied to you. Tears welling up in your eyes you looked away feeling shame.

"If you didnt want to have children with me you could've simply told me."

"No, Lucinda its not-" before he could finish you ran to the bathroom slamming the door shut. With a sigh of frustration Negan pulled up his pants and made his way to you. Knocking on the bathroom door, Negan called out for you. Regret in his voice as you remained silent wrapped in the covers sitting on the toilet.

"Lucinda open the door."

Wiping away a tear you could hear him taking a deep breath on the other side.

"Baby, it's not about you alright? It's not the way you're thinking-"

"Yes it is!" You suddenly opened the door yelling at him in frustration.

"Stop lying to me, I'm not a little girl. You dont want me to be the mother of your child and that's fine, that's how you feel." Negan frowned listening to you speak with the voice of a broken heart. You truly had no idea how this man felt about you.

"You think I wouldnt want to see you as the mother of my child?" Negan stepped close to you as you looked up at him.

"Look at me. What kind of a fucking father do I'd look like I'd be?" His words were filled with self disappointment and sadness. It crushed you as you realized that it was himself that he didnt believe in.

"You would be amazing." You whispered placing your hand on his chest.

"You dont even give yourself a chance, Negan." Looking down at you as he took in what you expressed, he pulled you close.

"You really think I could be a good dad?"

"The best," you smiled as you looked down at his lips.

"But...if you still want to get the pill. We can do that."

Negan felt conflicted, wanting to have a family with you but doubting himself ate him alive.

The next day Negan purchased the pill. Without saying anything of it you found it sitting at the dining table. You understood Negans way of feeling but boy did you wish you could change it. You wished you could make him see himself from your point of view. Negan stood at the kitchen doorway silently watching you stare at the pill packet in your hand. Not being able to hold himself back he unexpectedly rushed into the kitchen and pulled the packet out of your hand. Throwing it to the side, you gasped as Negan grabbed you and began to kiss you. Roughly he picked you up and sat you down on the counter. Moaning in excitment you felt him reach under your skirt and pull your underwear off. His kisses were intense as you heard the heavy buckle from his belt break open.

"Negan, what's gotten in to you?" You laughed as he kissed your neck. Negan was always a very sexual man but something seemed more aggresive in his nature today. You didnt mind it at all, you loved feeling wanted by him. The two of you moaned simultaneously at the feel of your bodies coming together as one. Negan did not hesitate and pumped into you hard.

"Oh my God-" you gasped wrapping your arms around him. His eyes intense, never taking them off yours.

"This what you want?" He moved aggresivly knocking down things off the counter with each thrust. Moaning and gasping against him you heard him mumble something to himself you couldn't make out. He was an animal, grunting against you but it only aroused you more.

Negan grabbed your neck by one hand and looked directly into your eyes.

"You want to have my baby?" He suddenly asked breathlessly as he held your face.

"Yes, Negan. Yes." You cried out when he bit down on his bottom lip and grunted with one last hard thrust. The look he had as he held onto you tightly making you take in every drop of him made your lips part. Another hard thrust making you squeal as he made you take all of him in. Furrowed brows as he concentrated on your expression, the thought of releasing himself in you unexpectedly turned him on.

Negan pulled out as you leaned back against the wall, the two of you attempting to catch your breath.

"Negan.." you whispered in shock.

"Are you sure...?" You asked before he took the pill that was thrown on the table and got compeltely rid of it. Never had Negan been so sure with what he wanted and he was sure he wanted it with you.

#jeffrey dean morgan #the walking dead negan #negan twd #negan x you #the walking dead fanfiction #negan fanfic #negan x reader #negan x oc #negan imagines #twd

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multimetaverse · 3 years

Text

HSMTMTS 2x07 Review

The Field Trip was a campy ep that recaptured some of the charm of S1. Let’s dig in!

S2 has often struggled with taking itself too seriously but finally we got some good campy fun that reminded me of why S1 was so great. North High finally come into their own as villains. The Howie reveal was very well done, poor Kourtney inadvertently being the source of the leaks. I can’t tell if Antoine’s accent is bad on purpose or not but he was funny tonight when he dragged Big Red and I loved how forward he was with Ashlyn. It’s good that the trio of new characters finally feel like they’re part of a larger plot rather than being somewhat random additions to the cast.

Lily continues to act like she’s on Glee which is exactly the right energy for the role. The stick to the stuff you know line was great as was Seb’s bop to the top retort. North High clearly won the dance off though Gina being in a skirt limited her. Lily was doing it with bad intentions but she was absolutely right that the rose song was a dig at Ricky and didn’t fit the musical and that they’d be disqualified for performing it. Miss Jenn should have already known they’d be disqualified for adding it and Ricky should have already been able to tell that the song was about him. I think it’s more and more likely that Lily is the party crasher who Ricky re-evaluates in 2x12 and she could well be the unexpected face time call he gets in 2x10.

It took 7 eps but we finally got an ep where Gina wasn’t upset over Ricky and thank god for that; the constant angst was sucking the life out of her plot. Of course, the reason she wasn’t going through it is because she was spending her time with EJ. I think this ep should put to rest any notion of Portwell just being platonic. Some people are still clinging to Matt’s interview where he refers to EJ and Gina as friends but he was clearly being misleading, even if nothing else happens it’s clear that Gina is not just a friend to EJ. I’ve seen people try and claim that Gina and EJ are like siblings with each other or that they’re practically related because Gina is roommates with EJ’s cousin as if there’s some sort of Westermarck effect by proxy but family members don’t pretend to be dating.

The morning show was a lot of fun and the fake dating was cute. In contrast to the last time they fake dated back in 1x05 we can see how much happier and more comfortable they are with each other now. Notably they had EJ circle back to it well after it happened which led to Gina’s line about everything going back to normal which is a tell that everything has not gone back to normal for them. We can see EJ’s inherent goofiness shining through with the Risotto inside joke they now have. Much like Joshaya on GMW there are valid reasons to not go ahead with the ship, although Portwell doesn’t have the creepiness or borderline illegality of Joshaya, but the chemistry between the characters is real and can’t be ignored.

Rini hurtles towards a breakup which could come as soon as next ep. Hard to tell if Ricky was in denial or just too stupid to understand the songs meaning. I'd prefer the former since a 17 year old would have to lack basic comprehension skills to not understand that the lyrics were a thinly veiled attack on him.

Nini trying to claim it was just a song at the end was disingenuous, she didn’t want Ricky to hear it for a reason. Her deciding to use her given name Nina for her music account is obviously meant to symbolize her independence from Ricky since he first gave her that nickname back in the first grade. However, it makes Ricky seem like some malign influence on her basically her entire life when it’s not like he forced her to go by Nini or prevented her from going back to Nina during the 10 odd years of their friendship/relationship together.

Miss Jenn and Zachie were fun but such a risk on his part to steal the mask, that’s trespassing and theft and a sure disqualification not to mention the very real risk of being criminally charged. The door is now closed on Jike and Jachie and the path for Jazarra is open.

Rouge Grand was funny but I hope this Redlyn angst isn’t dragged out too long.

Mob song wasn’t good, the skrillex beat drop was not needed. Around You was good though. I just noticed that Tim abandoned, or was forced to by covid, his plan to have 3 songs per ep instead of 2 which is for the best I think.

Looking Ahead:

Looks like next week will be a big one for Portwell and EJ in general. We get Gaston, career day with EJ’s dad, and then EJ hanging with Gina and helping her knit which is very domestic. I’d bet if you showed that clip of them knitting to someone who had never seen the show they’d assume the character were dating. So it looks like Mr. Caswell has bought EJ’s way into Duke which is no longer EJ’s dream, if it ever was.

As I said last week, there’s a clear path forward for Portwell to get together in the season finale and next ep will probably take a big step towards making it happen. We have the chemistry, we’ve gotten moments between them, and we know EJ’s feelings, we just need Gina to recognize her budding feelings for EJ. I think Gina running into Jack at the airport in 2x09 will help her clear her head on what she wants and a part of that will be whether she still wants to try and be with Ricky or does she want to take a chance with EJ.

Obviously S3 will almost certainly leave Portwell in the dust in order to do Rina for a bit which will piss off a lot of fans but Tim’s screwed himself over here; there’s really no way that this series ends without a large chunk of the audience being bitterly disappointed over who’s endgame. Love triangles are a done to death trope but they typically involve some minor characters who can written off once the triangle is over, not main characters who have to be in every ep no matter what.

More Redlyn angst next week as well as the wildcats being benched for a week due to trespassing at North High.

A lot of people think that the show is having Nini get into songwriting because of Olivia’s success but the scripts would have been written before she released Driver’s License and shot to stardom. She’s also still contracted for two more seasons though she’d clearly leave before that if Disney would let her.

The Rini treehouse scene could well be the breakup, gotta go my own way would fit well if that’s the case. This is another area where Tim needs to tread carefully. He can’t have Rini hate each other or avoid each other for the remaining 20 odd eps of the series but also can’t fully close the door on them since he’ll almost certainly have Rini be endgame as they graduate from East High at the end of S4.

At this point it seems pretty unrealistic that East High would win the Menkies but this is a tv show so who knows. There’s one big song left that would work for some of the couples they, Something There, which could work for Portwell, Howell, or Rina so we’ll see if we get it.

2x07 marks the last of the clips we saw in the original S2 trailer so we’re largely flying blind now.

Until next week wildcats.

#HSMTMTS #Portwell #Rini #Redlyn #Gina Porter #EJ Caswell #Nini Salazar-Roberts #Ricky Bowen #Big Red #Ashlyn Caswell #HSMTMTS Reviews

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jjmaybanksbaby · 3 years

Text

Where It Leads (Rafe Cameron)

Summer II

Part 04: I Should Just Tell You To Leave

series masterlist | previous part

summary: Against your better judgement, you seek out Rafe to talk about the Fourth of July party but things inevitably spiral.

a/n: I don’t really have anything to add!! Enjoy the angst! :))

word count: 2.2k words

The warm Outer Banks sun streamed into your room waking you from your sleep like a subtle alarm clock. The sounds of the air conditioning whirling away in the background was the only noise filling the mostly quiet house. You rolled over in your bed and finding a cool spot drifted back to sleep.

This time the loud chimes of the front door bell pulled you out of your slumber. You sat up onto your elbows curiously. No one ever ringed your door bell except for the delivery person and never this early in the day. A pair of footsteps padded across the foyer to the front door and your mom’s familiar voice echoed through the house moments later.

With your door closed, the conversations was muffled and you could only make out pieces of it.

She didn’t just say “Cameron,” did she? You wondered.

You were surely just being paranoid. It had only been two days since everything that had happened on the Fourth and your brain felt scrambled from overthinking just about every detail of that night.

Your curiosity officially got the best of you and you slipped out of your bed, quietly as not to make any of the floorboards creak in the old house. You cracked open your bedroom door just enough to hopefully steal a glance at the front door but your mom's figure was blocking the face of whoever she was talking to.

The voice though. It sounded so familiar, like you should have been able to place it.

You watched from your bedroom as your mom stepped forward and gave the other person a hug, bringing their face into perfect view.

It was Ward Cameron. What was he doing here?

You watched your mom exchange a few more worlds and close the door behind him. You slide your feet into a pair of throughly-worn through slippers and stepped out of your bedroom.

Your mom was still standing at the bottom of the stairs tapping away at her phone. You wanted to ask her about Ward but you couldn't give away that you had been eavesdropping.

"Morning mom," you said, kissing her cheek, your eyes fluttering down to her phone screen. Her text with your dad were pulled up but it didn't look like anything important. "What’s for breakfast?"

"There's some bagels on the counter,” she replied, not looking up from her phone.

"Okay," you paused. "Was someone at the door?" You asked, hoping your mom missed the eagerness of your question.

"Oh, just Mr. Cameron." She said.

"Ward?"

"Mmmhmm."

"What did he want?" You pushed.

"He's helping us with Midsummers,” she replied.

Midsummers? You thoughts. Isn't that usually in June?

"I thought Midsummers already happened this year."

Your mom sighed and you could pick up on her slight annoyance with your questioning.

"It was. He's helping us with next summer. The board sends out invites the August before."

The bulk of your mom's statement went over your head except for two words: next summer. As in you would for sure be back in the Outer Banks next summer.

"Isn't Nonna already a member of the Club?"

“Yes, she is. But Midsummer is put on through the Island Club which an even more exclusive part of the Club. Our family used to be a part of it when I younger. Ward's helping us get back in."

"I thought our family didn't like the Camerons?" The words were out of your mouth before you realized how it might sound.

Your mom finally looked up from her phone at you. "Why would you think that?"

"Oh," you paused, unsure how to proceed exactly. "Nonna said Mr. Cameron broke your heart your senior year of high school," you said hesitantly. "She said you were so upset you didn't talk to her for like two years.”

Your mom scoffed. "Your Nonna is always so dramatic. That's where your older sister gets it from. My mother told me she wouldn't pay for my college if I followed Ward to UNC. I guess she didn't realize I wanted to go to the west coast for college anyway and was going to break up with Ward when he was home over Thanksgiving break. Things with Ward didn't end with any bad blood, contrary to my mother’s belief. She’s never liked the Camerons for some reason but that's just her."

"So then we're going next summer? To Midsummers?"

"That's what I'm trying to make happen." Your mother went back to typing furiously on her phone.

"And the Camerons go ever summer?” You asked. Your mind defied you, conjuring up an image of Rafe waltzing into Midsummers in a perfectly tailored suit with a matching baby blue bow tie that made his eyes pop.

"What's with the sudden interest in a party?" Your mother asked back.

You forced the corners of your mouth up into a casual smile. "No reason. I'm going to eat breakfast." You quickly disappeared down the hallway before you gave yourself away.

☼☼☼

You hummed along softly to the music coming from your phone as you ran a straightening iron through your thick hair. The summer humidity made it a disaster to deal with. You knew two minutes outside would send it right back into looking like an untamed mess but most mornings you still stood in front of the mirror straightening it anyway.

Your phone which was sitting on the counter to your right buzzed with a new notification. You picked it up and unlocked it. There were two unread text sitting in your messages: one from your dad and another from an unknown number. You opened the second one.

Hey y/n! It's Cleo. Have you heard from Rafe recently? He's been acting weird and ghosting on our plans. I realized I had your number so I figured I'd shoot you a text and ask!!

You reread the text from Cleo before switching to your messages with Sarah.

y/n: Do you know where your brother is?

s: he's in his room moping i'm guessing for the same reason i couldn't find you after the fireworks

y/n: Sorry about that. How about I'll buy you ice cream this week and make it up to you?

You paused for a moment before typing out your next message.

y/n: Do you think I could come talk to him?

s: go for it

s: and i like mint chocolate chip with sprinkles :)

☼☼☼

You stood on the Cameron's front porch, not sure if you should knock or just walk inside. You settled on knocking and seconds later the door swung open revealing a younger-looking blonde woman holding a stemless wine glass with thick gold hoods hanging from her ears.

"Hi," you said, feeling like coming here might have been a very bad idea. "Um, is Rafe home?"

She glanced over her shoulder. "Yeah, yeah he is. Who are you again?"

"I'm y/n, one of his friends. Sarah said I could stop by."

She stepped back opening the door wider. "Sure, come in. I'm Rose. Rafe's in his room."

"Thank you," you said, stepping into the house. A sweeping staircase climbed up to the second floor. "Up here?" You asked.

"Mmmhmm." Rose nodded, bringing her wine glass up to her lips.

You walked slowly down the long hallway, most of the doors were closed except for one at the end.

You saw Rafe before he saw you. He was sitting in his unmade bed pushed into the corner of the room, only the light from the video games on the tv illuminating the space. You raise your first and knocked lightly on his doorframe, his attention snapping up to you.

You lingered in his doorway. Crossing into Rafe's room felt like it should mean something, you wanted it to mean something. His eyes were glued to the floor, watching your hesitant movements. You took a small step forward. He went back to the game, unpausing it, his fingers flying across the controller, no longer focused on you.

“Hey, I think we should talk,” you said as you crossed the room until you were just few feet away from him. When he didn’t move his gaze from the tv, you glanced around his room looking nervously, unsure where to rest your own eyes. The room was so distinctively his. Everything fit together in a way that made sense and the years he had spent growing up in it were obvious.

“Does your boyfriend know that you’re here?” He snapped back.

You ignored his comment, pressing on. “Sarah said you were moping.”

“Sarah says a lot of things.”

“Rafe.”

“Y/n.”

“Jesus, why are being such an asshole? Are you even gonna look at me?”

You expected your comment to earn you at least a glance in your direction but his head stayed firmly facing forward.

You stepped in front of the tv, forcing him to meet your stare.

“I’m sorry Rafe. I should have told you about Evan earlier. Or made it clearer.” You stumble on your words. The air in the room was hot. The words in your throat felt sticky like it was taking everything in you to get them out.

Rafe stood up from where he was sitting on his bed. Before you realized what he was doing, he was standing in front of you, his arm slipping behind your waist, pull you in until you had to place a hand on his chest to keep some distance between you. God, you cursed the way your body instinctively arched against his, the two of you fitting together like you were perfectly shaped for each other.

“I’m not an asshole,” he growled, his voice lower than you had ever heard it. “Because an asshole would kiss you right now even thought you’ve made it very clear you’re not available to be kissed.”

He looked down at you, his lips no more than two inches from yours. If you tilted your head up anymore your lips might land on his.

He lowered his head to whisper in your ear.

“And to be very clear, I would fucking love to be kissing you right now,” he paused, not moving his mouth from next to your ear. “Actually, I’d like to do a little more than just kiss you, sweetheart.”

A deep blush spread across your face. You whole body responded to his words.

Rafe took a sudden step back, releasing you from his grip. “So you can either call up your boyfriend and tell him you’re over and kiss me like I can tell you want to. Or don’t and leave.” Rafe crossed his arms in front of his body, his tshirt straining against his biceps muscles. How had you never noticed just how built he was? You tried to shake off the feeling of being pressed against him, held in place by his strong arms.

Your phone felt heavy in back pockets, weighting you down. “Rafe, you know I can’t do that. I can’t just pick you or him.”

“I’m not gonna be some side piece y/n. And I’m sure as hell not gonna share you with some kid who probably doesn’t deserve the time of day from you, much less to be your boyfriend. You have thirty seconds. Make a choice.”

“We’ve been together 6 months...7 next week.” You blabbed, practically pleading with him. You hated to hear the words Rafe was saying because you knew they were every bit true. You couldn’t have both boys. But if you were being honest with yourself: you didn’t want them both.

Rafe Cameron was intoxicating. He made your brain swirl and held your whole damn emotions hostage. You should have known after he’d gotten you into a car crash the first night you’d met that he’d end up tearing you apart in every way. Not to mention your own grandmother had quite clearly warned you to stay away from him. But something about his beautiful face made you cling to him and welcome your downfall.

Your eyes danced from Rafe’s lips up to meet his glare. You could see him counting down the seconds behind his stare.

10...9...8...

It was all moving too fast. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t breathe.

7...6...

But hadn’t you known coming here would lead to this? A part of you did. You knew the second you walked into the big Cameron house with the shiny marble floors you weren’t gonna leave it any bit the same.

5...4...

The voice in your head was screaming at you to walk away. You didn’t hurt people and Rafe was right: staying here would hurt Evan and it would hurt you just as much, maybe more. The voice yelled at you to get out. Run away from trouble back to Evan who wouldn’t ever hurt you. Back to your perfectly nice boyfriend.

3...

But no matter how loud or persistent that voice telling you to leave was, it couldn’t shut up the part of your brain pushing you to take what you really wanted. The boy you really wanted. The boy standing in front of you.

2...

You spun on your heel and kept your eyes down as you across the threshold of Rafe’s room back into the hallway.

1...

Rafe’s door closed behind you with a definitive click. That was it. He’d told you to pick and you had. There was no going back. No do-overs.

You stood frozen in the Cameron’s hallway, blinked away the tears threatening to spill down your face, trying to reassure yourself of your decision.

Your life would be easier without Rafe Cameron crowding your thoughts, you told yourself. Evan was the safe choice, he was good for you.

You let your legs carry you down the grand staircase and out of the front door of the Cameron’s house. There you were, for the second time in a week, fleeing from Rafe Cameron with your heart in the kind of pain that just might actually kill you.

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astrovian · 3 years

Audio

Richard Armitage interviews Harlan Coben for the Win audiobook (released 18/03/21)

Full transcript under cut

RA: Hi, I’m Richard Armitage. I played Adam Price in the Netflix series The Stranger, which was adapted from Harlan Coben’s novel of the same name. With me is the man himself, Harlan Coben, number one New York Times bestseller, the author of over thirty novels, including the one you’ve just listened to. I’m delighted to be talking to Harlan about his book, Win.

Okay Harlan, thanks for taking the time to chat about your audiobook and thanks for sending me a copy of the book. Um, it was so nice I ended up wrapping it up and giving it to my brother for Christmas.

HC: *laugh* You’re supposed to read it first, but okay, thanks Richard.

RA: No, I got the electronic version so uh, so I’ve had a good read. Congratulations, a great story. Brilliant, brilliant central character. I mean the first question I’m gonna ask is – because people listening to this have just been listening to the audiobook – are you, um, a big audiobook listener yourself?

HC: I – I go through stages, um, because my mind wanders, I sometimes have trouble focusing. But when I’m in a car, um, that’s most of the time that I’m- that I really love to use the audiobooks because it does make the ride just fly by. However, I’ve set up my life that I don’t have to commute to work every day, so I don’t have it steadily – it’s usually when I’m doing a nice long ride, I get a really good audiobook and time just flies by.

RA: And have you- have you got any favourite audiobooks that you’ve listened to recently, or any podcasts or what is it that floats your boat?

HC: You know, it’s funny. I still remember when I was a working man, way back when, when audiobooks were really first starting out and we had them on cassette tapes, I listened to the entire Bonfire of the Vanities by Tom Wolfe, um, it was about thirty hours long, going back and forth to work for almost a month. And I still have memories of that experience, and it’s probably, well god, it’s probably 1990 I did that, 1989, something like that.

RA: Mm-hmm. Yeah, I mean I’ve got a- I’ve got a few journeys up and back from Manchester this year, we’re about to start working on Stay Close, so I’ll happily – I’m happy to take any recommendations of any good books, so maybe I’ll listen to Bonfire of the Vanitites.

HC: Well I tell ya, a lot of people – first of all, it’s a brilliant book, it’s maybe a bit dated, but I doubt that, um. I think Richard, I get more people telling me to listen to any book that you read.

RA: *laugh*

HC: I said, “Hey, I spend a lot of time with this guy, I’m about to do my second television show that stars Richard Armitage. No one I think has starred in two shows that I’ve done ever, so I get a lot of him anyway.” *laugh*

RA: You don’t need my voice in your head when you’re driving, that’s – that’s torture.

HC: That’s right, I’ll be hearing notes on, on scripts in my head if I hear you going. For those who don’t know who are listening, y’know, Richard starred in The Stranger, um, and now is going to be starring in Stay Close, uh, based off two of my novels which I’m sure you can get on audiobook.

RA: And on that note, what um, you’ve had so many adaptations now that have moved from page to screen – what is it like when you go through that process? When you’re – ‘cause you’re very hands on in the way that you kind of collaborate with not just the actors, but with the producers and y’know, the writers. I mean, you’re – you’re writing it yourself. Um, what is it like through, through that whole process, from starting to developing to seeing it kind of realised on screen?

HC: I think the key for me is not to be slavishly devoted to the novel. I think that’s a mistake that a lot of people who are trying to make an adaptation make. So, I go into it, ‘what is the best TV series we can make?’, if it’s true to the book, great. If it’s not true to the book, also great. Um, so I move my stories to various countries, we’ve changed characters around, we’ve changed motivations. Because they’re two very different mediums – a book is a book, and a TV series is a TV series. They should not be the same. One is a visual medium, one is not. Even, even um, audiobooks are slightly different um, than what you read. And they should be. Um, y’know, there’s a performance involved.

Also, because I’ve spent most of my life alone in a room coming up with writing a book, um, where I am just everything – I’m writer, director, actor, key grip. I don’t even know what a key grip is, but I’m that. Um, it’s really nice to collaborate. So um, you’ve worked with me, I hope you agree – I like to collaborate, I like to hear the opinions of other people and um, I really enjoy that aspect of it. I look at it like I’m – like I get to be captain of a World Cup football team, rather than being a tennis player where I’m standing there on my own, which is what happens with a novel.

RA: Yeah, and actually it’s the same when I get to narrate an audiobook, like you say – you get to be director, you get to be the cinematographer to an extent ‘cause you’re setting the scene, but one thing that I’ve – I really appreciated about working with you was having read your, your books and sometimes you’ll pass by a character that is useful to the, to the narrative that you’re telling, but when that comes to developed for TV or film you’ll take a bit more time to investigate that character, and you’re very open to treading those paths, which makes for a very kind of dense narrative with the screenwriter.

HC: Well that’s what I think we’re trying to do. If you think about The Stranger, um, y’know in the book the Stranger is a sort of nerdy teenage male.

RA: Mm-hmm.

HC: And that just – we even tried out some people, and that just didn’t work. And it was really my idea – and I don’t say it in a bragging way, I say it as a way to show how open we all are – to change the character from being male to being female. And once I saw Hannah John-Kamen do it, then I pictured her in a room with you in that first great scene in the bar, um, or at the club when she tells you the big secret, it just worked. Um, you have to be willing to, to sort of stretch your imagination all over again and re-think your story. Which is also fun.

RA: Yeah, and also I suppose because y’know, as much as we love a faithful adaptation of a novel, um what you don’t wanna do is just deliver the novel in screenplay. You want to, for everyone that has read it it’s a new and exciting surprise, and for everyone that hasn’t it’s, y’know, it’s gonna be the same. So, um, it’s nice to kind of have a, to have your audience ready for people who have read a lot of your work, and there were, y’know, a guaranteed audience of people that had, had looked at The Stranger but what you gave them was something really surprising.

HC: Yeah, it was a lot of fun. A lot of fun. And Stay Close, there’s a change in the ending to that which will hopefully shock everybody but especially the people who have already read the book, who will smugly think they know exactly what’s going on.

RA: *laugh* And me, probably. I haven’t read it yet. Um, so when you’re writing – I’m gonna double up on this question now, so when you’re writing, do you write in silence? Do you have any music playing in the background or are you – do you have like a, a kind of sacred writing space?

HC: Um, my routine is not to have a routine. Uh I, I do whatever works until it stops working and then I change up. It’s like I’m riding a horse really fast, and then the horse dies so I gotta find a new horse. So most writers will tell you ‘yes, I use this space, I do it at this time’. Um in the days before Covid, I would go to different coffee shops all the time, I would try out different… any place. Y’know, my favourite example is the end of – when I was writing The Stranger, um with about three weeks left to finish it, I had to take an Uber for the first time. This was a number of years ago. I had to take an Uber in New York City, and I felt really guilty about spending the money on an Uber and trying to justify it, so I was sitting in the back of the Uber and I was writing down notes, and I start writing really well. So for three weeks, I took Ubers wherever I went just so I could finish the book *laugh*

RA: ‘Cause that was the magic formula.

HC: Yeah, that worked! Then that stops working and then I have to find the new, a new place. So my routine is not to have a routine. If you’re trying to write out there, the key to anything is ��does it make me write more?’ – if the answer is yes, it’s good. If the answer is no, it’s bad. It really is that simple.

RA: I’m gonna make a note of that for when I start writing myself. Um, do you – do you speak any of your characters out loud, your dialogue or your prose passages, do you say it out loud?

HC: The very last stage um, of editing. Okay first of all, no writer gets it right the first time. I know a million writers, I don’t know any writer who doesn’t re-write and re-write a lot. Well, I know one but he’s the guy none of us wanna hang out with, you know what I mean?

RA: *laugh*

HC: So um, the last stage that I do, and it’s usually after I’ve done all the editing with my editor and everything like that, we’re ready to go. I will sit in a room and I read the entire novel out loud to myself. Um, because what happens is, it’s a little bit like a musical score. Where you can – if you read it out loud, I can detect false notes that I may have missed along the way. Um, I can hear them. So the last step is that. I rarely y’know, I’m not – I’m not crazy, I’m not sitting there maybe talking out loud to myself, I’m maybe testing out lines by doing that, and I do that a lot when I’m helping with the screenplays on our shows. But um, for the most part that’s how I do it.

RA: So, in that case, would you ever narrate one of your own audiobooks?

HC: I did narrate one, uh, many years ago called Promise Me. What had happened is we had - my Myron Bolitar series we did seven with the same reader and he retired. I hadn’t written um, I didn’t write Myron for about five or six years it was. And so they said, ‘hey, why don’t you do it?’ which was a huge mistake in many ways. One, I’m not a professional. But two, the people who were fans of Myron Bolitar liked the first guy, and it felt to them liked they had tuned into their favourite TV show and every actor had changed.

RA: *laugh*

HC: It’s really difficult to re-do or start a series, uh, when people know the- the old reader. So um, I also figure- it was also, Richard you know this of course, so for people who don’t know, it’s a lot of work. I’m a guy from New Jersey. I speak very quickly, which does not go over well in audio. I don’t do voices. I would have to sit with a pillow on my stomach because uh, my stomach would sometimes grumble and that would be picked up- *laugh*

RA: Oh, yeah!

HC: By the microphone. And it took me um, a week to record it because – and I don’t know if this is still the case – but back then, the abridged version wasn’t just a cut up version of the unabridged, I had to do a whole different reading for it. So um, it was – it was a lot of work. Um, and it’s a skill that I’m not sure I’m best to do.

RA: Yeah, it does take a lot of stamina. I mean what’s interesting is, having gotten to know you, and when I, when I now read your work, I can hear your delivery, I can hear your voice. And there’s humour in the dialogue, and there’s humour in the as well, and I – it’s an instant ‘in’ for me, so I – ‘cause, ‘cause often I read and I speak aloud when I’m reading alone in the dark, I say things out loud but I think people approach it differently. But I definitely hear your voice in, in these characters. And I think particularly in Windsor Horne Lockwood.

HC: That’s so interesting because Win, I think of my heroes that I’ve had, Win is probably the least like me. I mean um, when you think about Adam-

RA: *laughing* You have to say that! You have to say that because he’s such a badly behaved person, isn’t he?

HC: *laughing* Yeah! ‘Cause I usually like to think of myself as more of like Adam in The Stranger, who you played, or some of the other characters that – the ‘I’m a father or four’ or those kind of guys. What I love about getting into Win of course is that Win is something of an anti-hero. Um, he sort of says and does things that are not necessarily prudent or appropriate, and he can get away with that. Um, so I really loved – I loved getting in his head, it was really an interesting experience. But on the surface anyway, he’s probably the least like me of any uh, main character that I’ve ever written.

RA: Yeah, I mean I- I relate to that totally. It’s a little bit like- it’s probably a side of you, you daren’t investigate, but- but when you get the chance to do it in a fiction um, you can tap into those things that we’re not allowed to do or say in your, in your regular day. But um, where did that character spring from? What was the seed that germinated into his story do you think?

HC: Rarely is this the case, but um, Win is actually – y’know, he’s the sidekick in my Myron Bolitar series but um, when I first created him I based him off my best friend in college roommate, who has a name equally obnoxious as Windsor Horne Lockwood the Third-

RA: *laugh*

HC: Very good looking, blonde guy who used to say before he would go out to parties when we were in college, he would look in the mirror and say, “It must suck to be ugly”. And so I took him and I tweaked him and made him more dangerous, uh and that’s how I, I kind of came up with Win.

RA: And does this person know that you’ve based this character on him?

HC: Oh yes! In fact, some people know who he is, he uses it. He’s still a-

RA: Oh, really?

HC: Owner of all these fancy golf clubs, he’s president of one of the most famous golf clubs, um, in the world right now. He looks the part. In fact, he one time came to one of my books signings years ago and um, he’s sitting in the back, and I tell people the story of how I created Win, and I say, “I’m not gonna tell you who, but Win is actually in this room right now”. It took the crowd about four seconds to figure out who he was, and he had a longer line to sign books that I did *laugh*

RA: Amazing. I mean I have to say, it’s- you, you start reading the story and thinking, ‘I don’t know if I’m gonna like this guy’ but he really grows on you, warts and all. I wonder how many people are gonna go into Saks on Fifth Avenue and go looking for the vault.

HC: *laugh* Yeah, no, I made that up. But there is place in Saks-

RA: I know, so brilliant!

HC: -but the rest of it is completely made up, this involves an app that you’ll read about when you- hopefully when you, when you read book. But yeah, it was fun to do an anti-hero where he makes decisions and does things that you don’t like, and yet you still wanna hang around with him. I always think the key to a fascinating character is not um, that he’s likeable necessarily, but that you wanna spend time with him. Not that he’s a nice guy, but if you were at a bar and you could sit with somebody and have a conversation with them and learn about their life, would this be a person you’d wanna do that with? And that’s sort of the test whenever I do a character. And Win, I think, passes that with flying colours. There are people who love Win and wanna be just like him and there are people who loathe him! But everybody, or I hope many people, are fascinated by him and his life.

RA: Well, also you’ve given him such an incredible kind of tool kit, like a skill set. I mean, I think everybody would look at that character and wish they could do the things he does, maybe not in the way that he does them, but I mean he’s- he’s exactly the kind of character that you’d hone in on, certainly from an acting point of view. I look at that and if I was, y’know, like fifteen years younger, I’d be leaping on that character to play. Which is, it means – it means he’s sort of relatable or aspirational in a kind of anti-hero way.

HC: I’ve heard this a lot, and I think it’s one of the most flattering things that I hear from my actor friends – I think everybody would want to play Win. I mean, I think the- it’s an interesting challenge, um, for a lot of actors. More so than even Myron Bolitar who is my lead series character. Um, everybody kind of wants to play win and kind of wonders who would play Win. Uh, and I take that as a – as a compliment.

RA: Are we gonna see more of him? Is he ge- are you writing more stories for him?

HC: My guess is the answer’s yes. I plan each book as it comes, so I never know until I’ve started. Is it gonna be a stand alone? Is it going to be a Myron Bolitar? Is it gonna be a young adult? Mickey Bolitar is now going to be a Win, and I don’t know until I – each book, y’know when I finish a book, I’m like a boxer who’s just gone fifteen rounds and can’t even lift my, my arms anymore, I gave it everything I had, I can’t even imagine fighting again or writing another novel. So I don’t know is the answer. Probably? I do wanna see Win again, separately or at least back with Myron, so I do think we will see Win again. But the book I’m writing right now is a sequel to The Boy From the Woods, which is the book that came out in 2020, so that’s what I’m writing now. Will I return to Win? Maybe. Maybe. We’ll see how- we’ll also see how people react. Not that I would work necessarily off of commercial interest, but it people really love this book, y’know, we don’t live in vacuum, that would probably somewhat influence what I do.

RA: Right. I mean, because so many of your- your books are being developed and being snapped up to be turned into film or television – I mean, Myron Bolitar is, is a recurring series waiting to happen, and then you’ve got your spin off of Win – I, I- I wonder if, y’know when your first ever, uh novel, did you write with kind of cinema television in your head? Is that something that as modern storytellers we can even avoid? Um, did you ever dream that these would ever turn into sort of film and TV?

HC: Well, everybody dreams, but there’s sort of two answers to it. The first answer is when I’m writing a book, I never ever, ever, not for one second do I think ‘Ooh, this would make a really good movie’ or ‘Ooh, this would make a really good TV series’ because that’s the kiss of death for a book. It really is. It’s, it’s- it’s just a disastrous thought, and if you’re out there writing really don’t try it, because it’s, it’s a big mistake. At the same time, to be realistic and honest, I grew up watching TV. Who didn’t? That’s my – I mean this is what we grew up with. To pretend you’re only influences – y’know you ask a writer ‘What’s your influences?’ “Oh, Shakespeare and Proust and Yeats” – come on. You watched TV growing up. And so that’s an influence on how you tell a story. To deny that is silly. So writers today do think in terms of cinema more just because they grew up with it. Where writers of a different generation did not, so they wouldn’t have that influence.

RA: Yeah, I mean I- I think this all the time – it’s impossible to even de-program your brain not to imagine scenarios in terms of cinema. I mean I- I often think about sort of Victorian novelists that didn’t have y’know TV, and their trying to describe something that they’ve never seen or experienced. And we have references for so many things – I mean it’s almost impossible not to, we’re- we are and will always be influenced by one or the other, especially in the written word. But I- I find that it means that you can kind of uh, put aside the investigation and just get on with the storytelling. And maybe go even a little bit further. It’s like instant access. Y’know, I know exactly the world that you’re talking about when you’re y’know at the beginning of Win, but- but y’know at the same time I felt there was something very Agatha Christie like about the um, the backstory of uh, of this book, I really liked the fact that there was a historic event that was really informing what was happening right now.

HC: Well, y’know when I start a book, there’s- I’m always- I have a bunch of ideas and I’m trying to think which ones are going to go in the story, and it ends up being several. So for example, in this book, I wanted – I’ve always wanted to do an art heist. Y’know, like the Gardner Museum Heist, where they still haven’t found the paintings that were stolen, the Vermeers and the Picassos that were stolen in that particular – I can’t remember if it’s Picasso now, I know it was a Vermeer – um, stolen in that- that, heist in Boston years ago, I wanted to write a book about 60’s radicals – the Weather Underground and what would happen to people who were involved in that so many years later. I also wanted to write something about a kind of Patty Hearst-type character who was a famous kidnapping here in the 70s. So those were like three of the things that I wanted to like – to delve into. And I ended up delving into all three *laugh* which sometimes happens.

Oh, and the last one I wanted to do – I always wanted to do um, a hoarder that was actually someone famous. There was actually um, something of a case of this in New York City where somebody died who was living in a top floor of an Upper West Side building, and it ended up being the missing son – not really missing, but had just kind of gone off the rails – of a very famous American war hero. And so, I took all of these aspects, which would seem to make three or four different novels, and I make it into one novel if I can. It’s not that different from – again, I’m referencing um, um – The Stranger y’know, because you’re here and provably a number of the people listening to us have seen The Stranger on Netflix, but it’s the same thing with The Stranger a little bit, where I had a lot of ideas for secrets that could be revealed by the Stranger, and each one could have been a separate novel. And instead, the challenge is put them all in one story and find a way to hook them together.

RA: Yeah. I mean, it’s rich in a way that when I- I’m reading it and the producer head in me is saying ‘gosh, this is gonna be a great TV show’ ‘cause you know, you’ve got the present day, you’ve got the near-past and the um, the heist story, which uh, is kind of crying out for – you just want more of it, which is brilliant in a book. When you’re – you’re leaving the reader wanting to know more and wanting to, to know more about that family and what happens to them. It’s – it’s the perfect recipe, really.

HC: And so much of it does come from your life in ways that you don’t expect – right now, maybe a lot of people are watching this uh, the Aaron Sorkin movie about the Chicago Trials from the 70s, Abbie Hoffman, who is played by uh, I think Sacha Baron Cohen played him in, in the movie. When I was in college at Amherst, Abbie Hoffman was on the run, um, but he still showed up one day at our college and gave a speech, then disappeared again. And boy, that stuck in my head always. Man, I’d love to write a character that’s kind of like Abbie Hoffman. ‘Cause he had that charisma even then, y’know on stage he was funny as heck, I must have been eighteen or nineteen um, when I – when I heard him speak. And so that – I never consciously back then, I didn’t think that, but every once in a while those experiences come to head and you wanna write about it.

RA: Mm-hmm. You’ve been writing for quite a few years now-

HC: *Laugh*

RA: -you’re – I don’t know if you can even remember what it was like when you first stated your very first book. Um, and some people have said that books are like children in a way, you sort of rear them and then the more you do, the more familiar you are with that process. But would you – I mean, it’s difficult for you to answer this, but would you say you have a favourite book that you’ve written?

HC: I don’t have a favourite book that I’ve written. Um, this – this sounds self-serving, but it’s usually the book, the most recent book, that I like the best. Um, it’s a little bit like – and the way I try to explain this is – maybe you wrote a paper, an essay when you were in college which you thought was brilliant. You remember that moment in school and you wrote a paper and you thought it was brilliant and you find it now and you re-read it and you go, ‘wow, this wasn’t good after all’. It’s not that it’s not very good, it’s just that you have sort of moved on and you’re not that sort of person and so you see all the flaws. So in the older books, which I don’t re-read, I see all of the flaws. I always think, y’know even if you think of yourself, what you thought ten or fifteen years ago – you sort of go ‘ugh, what did I know back then, I’m so much smarter now’. So the same thing a little bit with books, where I think I’m learning more and the current book is better. One of the interesting experiences of working on these adaptation is having to go back and read a book – in some cases we’re doing one, the next one I think uh comes out in France for example, is Gone for Good, which I think was released in 2002! Or 2003. So I wrote it twenty years ago. And to have to go back and read it now, I’m always kind of cringing at some of the stuff-

RA: Mm-hmm.

HC: -some of the stuff I’m kind of thrilled with, like ‘wow, that’s an interesting twist. You don’t have that kind of ending anymore’ and some of it I’m like, ‘wow, why’d you go there?’ so it’s an interesting experience.

RA: Yeah, I feel the same. I very – I, uh, very early on in my career I would watch my work back in quite a lot of detail, thinking ‘I’m gonna learn something’ and then as I got older it was – it was almost unbearable to just do that. And I actually haven’t been able to do that, but it’s because when you’re – when you’re first starting out you throw everything you’ve got into that first breakout role that you do, and then your realise that you’re always in danger of repeating yourself and you think – ‘gosh, people are gonna suss me out that I’m only capable of doing one or two things’, but you live in hope that you can, y’know, find that one thing that you can completely reinvent. Y’know I still hope for that.

HC: I still think that everyone who I’ve ever met who is successful at what they do has imposter syndrome. If you don’t um, you’re prob- you have a false bravado and you’re in trouble. I always say, “only bad writers think they’re good”. The rest of us really suffer with that, and really questioning and always think we’re gonna be sussed out. And I can tell you, um, Stephen King sent me a book not that long ago because he’d nicely put my name in it and wanted my reaction. But even Steve, after all his success and whatever else, he still worries about the reaction, that he’s as good as he used to be, that people will still like it, he’s – I know him. He still worries about it. And when you stop, that’s when you’re in trouble I think as an artist, when you’re starting to doubt what it- when you don’t have the doubts, you start having an overconfidence that you sort of got this. It’s a little bit like my golf game, frankly.

RA: *laugh*

HC: There’s moment’s when I’m about to swing, y’know, I’m gonna be okay and then you get out there and you stink all over again. So-

RA: Yep

HC: -you’re constantly trying to get better and so I imagine it must be difficult to look at your old roles and you – you’re kinda cringing, right? You see all the mistakes you’re making. You see through you so to speak, right?

RA: Yep. Absolutely.

HC: And then someone will come up to you, right, and they’ll say, “Oh, my favourite thing you ever did was-“ and then they’ll list something you did twenty years ago, and you want them to pay attention to what you’re doing now *laugh*

RA: Yep. Yep. Seeing through you is, is one of the things that is quite haunting because I do, I see through me. I can’t shake myself off, if you know what I mean.

HC: Well, you are very cool, you don’t watch any of it until it’s all over. Uh, that’s correct right? You never watched any of our rushes or I remember trying to tell you that you’re doing great and all that-

RA: No, I watched, I watched the first shot-

HC: -and you had not seen any of it and I watch you every day when you’re on set working on our shows and I’ll comment if I see something or whatever, to either you directly or the director, uh, and most of the time I’m – I’m complimenting you, but you don’t – you don’t know either, because you’re not watching, you’re not getting lost in that.

RA: Yeah, I don’t like to watch or be somebody that studies myself to much, I don’t think that’s my job. I think my job is to be inside the character looking out, rather than the other way around. I leave that to the experts like you and the director.

HC: Also, I think it’s- I think if you start worrying about what – you’re right – and also you don’t have the distance. This is always an issue when I – I first start watching the cuts of the first episodes, and I read the book while I’m editing it, while I try to take time between my writing it and then seeing it, I have to sort of put myself in the position of being somebody who knows nothing about this, and doesn’t come in knowing the story already that I’ve already read or seen a thousand time. How do I keep it fresh in my head when I’m trying to be objective and watching it so we can make edits. Uh, both on the screen or on the page.

RA: Mm-hmm. What draws you to crime/thriller? What – I mean is that – I, I can’t often imagine you writing a romantic novel, but what is it that draws you to this particular genre?

HC: Well, y’know to me it’s uh, not really a genre. It’s more like – it’s a form. It’s more like saying it’s a haiku or a sonata.

RA: Mm-hmm.

HC: And within that form I can, and hopefully have, done everything. Um, I think The Stranger for example is more a story about family, uh, and the secrets we try to hide, rather than it is about who killed who – y’know, the mystery angle of it.

RA: Yeah.

HC: One of my most, uh well-known books, my first bestseller, was a book called Tell No One which was made into a French film starring François Cluze, and that’s really a love story, it’s about a man who’s madly in love with his wife and eight years earlier, she was murdered. And then eight years passed, he gets an email, he clicks the hyperlink, he sees a webcam and his dead wife walks by, still alive., And the pursuit, the wanting to get back, the hope for full redemption is really what drives the story more than ‘who killed who’.

RA: Mmm-hmm.

HC: So different stories do different things. But the great thing about the form of crime fiction is that it compels me to tell a story. I’m not getting lost in the beauty of my own genius, my own kind of navel-gazing. I have to continue to tell a story and entertain you. So any of the themes that I wanna tell, any of the things I wanna discuss, has to be slave to that story. And I think that’s probably a rich tradition. If you think about Dumas really, wasn’t that all crime fiction? Even Shakespeare is mostly crime fiction.

RA: Yeah.

HC: Most great stories, if I ask you to name a favourite novel that’s over a hundred years old, Dostoevsky, whoever, you will find that there’s almost always a crime in it. There’s almost always a crime story.

RA: I mean it’s one of the things that I get very excited about, um, I mean obviously I haven’t read your entire canon but I – there’s a signature, or a theme that you love to play on which is this idea that – that um, the people you know aren’t telling you everything about themselves, or that there’s something to hide and that in our modern world, with technology, we have this sort of ability to – to sort of lead multiple lives of truths or lies. And it’s something which I think we immediately recognise. ‘Cause I think we – we’re living that, that reality, and it’s a theme that I really enjoy about your writing.

HC: Well, first of all, thanks. Second, um, there’s a lot of things we’ve heard about the human condition. One of my favourites about the human condition that I used to write, is that we all believe that we are uniquely complex and no one knows the inside of us. And yet we think we read everybody else pretty well. We all think we are uniquely complex and the person across from us, we can kind of figure out. They’re not quite like us. Um, and that’s something I love to play with when I write. Because you’ve gotta remember that everybody is uniquely complex and on a humanity level, and on an empathy level, I raise my kids and I’m always teaching them that every person you see, the richest, the poorest, the happiest, the saddest – everybody has hopes and dreams. Just think that, when you see a stranger on the street, when you’re going to interact with somebody, when you’re getting angry at somebody, whatever it is – just remember, they have hope and dreams. Um, small little thought, but it helps me create a character as well.

RA: There’s also a- a kind of very strong level of self-deception involved, which I think can be quite surprising. Because you always read a character and go, ‘I’m not like that’ or ‘I would never do that’ and then if you really think about it, we – there’s a truth we tell ourselves about ourselves which isn’t always honest.

HC: Well, exactly. It’s really come to fruition in the world the last few years, where I kind of joked that I’ve been working too hard on making my villains sympathetic, the villains in today’s world don’t seem to be very – very complex at all.

RA: *laugh*

HC: But for the most part, people don’t think they’re bad guys. Even the bad guys don’t think they’re bad guys.

RA: Yeah.

HC: They have some way of, of justifying. It’s one of the great things about human beings, or one of the most prevailing thing about a human being, is we all have the ability to self-rationalise, to self-justify. Um, and so I’ve always tried with my villains, and I hope that I did it in everything that we’ve done together, to try to make even the villain – you may not like the villain, but you get them. I don’t really write books – I don’t write books where the serial killer is hacking up people for no reason, that doesn’t really interest me. I prefer the crimes where you can say, ‘Yeah, I wouldn’t have done it maybe, but I can see why that happened. I can see if I was put in that position, um, where I may have done something similar’. That to me is a much more interesting villain than somebody who’s just cruel and evil.

RA: Yeah. Um, final question actually, is – I mean, as a listener/reader yourself – are there any other authors whose books you love and just go back – I mean, you’ve mentioned Stephen King, um I’m with you on that one – but are there any other authors who really kind of inspire you and, and y’know, like a little guilty pleasure reading for yourself and not for work?

HC: Yeah, well the problem always is that I start listing authors, and then someone will say, ‘well, what about so-and-so who’s a friend of mine’, and then I say ‘oh shoot, I forgot – I forgot that one’.

RA: *laugh*

HC: Y’know I saw recently that it’s the eleventh anniversary of the death of Robert B. Parker, who wrote the Spencer novels, if by any chance you haven’t found the Spencer novels, and I don’t know how popular they are overseas – they’re fantastic, wonderful detective series. Um, so that’s one guy I would go back in time and try to find for audio. But I actually like Philip Roth a lot on audio, even though he doesn’t do crime fiction. I’m a big Michael Connelly fan and I like Lee Child, um and Laura Lippman. Y’know, I could sit here just naming um, people all day. I’m always curious also – who is reading – who does it because of the reader and who does it because of the writer. I know there’s a number of people who will listen to anything you read, Richard, because it’s you. Um, which is really quite nice, but it’s interesting the combination of the audio reader. I have Steven Weber, he’s been reading most of my novels, though I’ve had a female lead – a woman named January LaVoy who’s fantastic – and I think Weber captures my voice. He sounds a little bit like me, we both have a similar background, similar sense of humour, so part of it with the audio is also the match you end up making.

RA: Yeah. It’s interesting, isn’t it? Because I certainly find I don’t often get to read something which is purely my choice, I have a stack of things that are work-related, or that I’m about to record. So I don’t think I’ve – I’ve chosen a book recently which is just been- I don’t know how I would pick something, it’s usually a recommendation, so I’ll certainly have a look at the Spencer novels, they sound – they sound brilliant.

HC: Yeah, and they’re fun – there was a TV series in America for a while called ‘Spencer for Hire’ – this is s or going back to the, I guess the 70s or 80s I think. Um, those were not great, but the novels themselves were sort of – Raymond Chandler to Robert B. Parker to the guys who are working now. So he’s a huge – he was a tremendous influence on most of your favourite crime writers. I said in his obituary eleven years ago, I said, “90% of writers admit that Robert B. Parker was an influence and 10% lie about it”. So um, if you can find Robert B. Parker Spencer novels that would be a good clue for everybody out there.

RA: Brilliant. Well, that just about wraps it up. And uh, thanks for talking to me. I really enjoyed the book and no doubt it will be another best-seller and fingers crossed it ends up as a TV series.

HC: Well, thanks Richard, and I look forward to seeing you work on uh, Stay Close. I know that uh, Armitage Army out there *laugh* that – your, your loud uh supporters and fans who just adore you are going to go gaga cause you get to play somebody quite different from Adam in The Stranger. Um, it’s-

RA: Yeah. Looking forward to it.

HC: Yeah, it’ll be a lot of fun. Thanks very much.

#this was actually more interesting that I thought it would be #sorry the audio ain't great I had to compress it a lot #it is longgg #richard armitage #harlan coben #win

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